#just breaking in my Apple Pencil y’all

[dindjarindiaries]

— “He is my only priority.”

#cuties <3 #we love some two dimensional coloring #din djarin #grogu #the mandalorian #the mandalorian fan art #din djarin fan art #grogu fan art #star wars fan art #star wars #my art #just breaking in my Apple Pencil y’all

[cup1dxzs]

Darling little puppet

Wally Darling X Reader

It had been an early Saturday morning, the kind of morning in which the mourning dove could faintly be heard cooing from a tree it chose to perch upon and the morning sun slowly rising to shine it’s light across the land.

You’d decided to lounge around in the living room of your decently sized abode, located in the suburbs but not too far from the city yet not too close, it was just right in your opinion. For now you decided to pick up on a little doodle you had been doing just the night before, the silence of your living space had made you a little bit anxious so you’d settle on grabbing the remote to your Tv and leave a show running as some background noise to help keep you at bay.

Smiling fondly at the show, it somehow made you feel nostalgic and reminiscent of your younger years where your only concern had been getting home in time to watch the newest episode of your favorite show, the good ol’ times as you would put it. Finally breaking gaze from the screen you’d go back to your drawing as well, giggling a little bit as you’d felt similar to the blue haired fellow you saw just a second ago, leaving your current drawing of a blue jay bird unfinished you’d flip the page of the sketchbook and began your new journey of drawing the unnamed puppet.

‘Jeez am I really obsessing over a children’s show? I should get out more often…’ You thought to yourself as you snickered a little bit at your strange antics, maybe you should actually get out more often? But I mean who could even blame you? This life was as cozy as it could get, you were content with how things seemed to be going so far, laying down your pencil you’d look back up at the Tv in hopes to see your muse for the artistic drawing and in your favor there he was!

“Hello neighbor, I’m finally finished up with my painting, do you like it? Isn’t it just the most!” The pompadour adorning puppet spoke as he turned a piece of paper with an Apple drawn onto it, you gave a small grin as you credited yourself for doing such a good drawing despite having little reference as the yellow puppet had barely been on the screen. Finally tuning into the show you grinned at the silliness of the show presented before you, but the more you payed attention to more uneasy you felt, it was a small and slight feeling, only ever happing when that puppets gaze seemed to linger longer than it should’ve, staring right through you, almost as if it could actually see you and was just simply observing you from the inside the Tv.

“I really should get out more…”

———————————————————————————

HELLO EVERYONE!! This is indeed my first fanfic I’ve ever written, pls lmk if I should continue, I’m open to requests but Idk how to open my ask box :( hope y’all enjoyed it!! :D

#wally darling #wally x reader #welcome home #fanfic #should i continue? #pls let me know #constructive critism welcome #pls be nice #i will cry #x reader #reader is a simp #like all of the time #just like me <3 #and everyone else

[fuumiku]

Catharsis

This thing legit took me like 2 months bc it got corrupted twice and I had to start over again and again haha,, But I finally got my new ipad + apple pencil!! So you know this is the first thing I’m going to finish with it hah. Y’all can have different versions as a treat because I’m indecisive af ALSO I KNOW that the way I drew Metal’s upper quill isn’t right, it’s heresy I know I know, I prob won’t draw it this way again but I just wanted to. It’ll also be higher resolution next time I swear... Dropping 2 Metal Sonic angst fics I wrote here too bc why not:

Forget Me Not:  https://archiveofourown.org/works/39893574  “Sometimes, even though Metal Sonic has an infallible data card with undeletable memory files, he wishes he could forget. “ / Soft angst about Eggman being an abusive parent. No metamy

(And so,) I Mourn the World and Myself:  https://archiveofourown.org/works/40428456 / angst with a touch of comfort, major theme of suicidal ideation and depression, pre-established metamy.

There’s something paining about how Metal Sonic can’t cry. Like...

"Crying is an excellent way to release stress and pent-up negative emotions and turmoil.” Metal: haha, guess I’ll die

It’s pretty much canon that Metal channels his pain into (emotionally-drive) impulsive self-destructive acts and goals, and ties it all in a neat bow of anger that hides envy and bitterness. What I love about Metal Sonic particularly is how he’s so fully denied any sort of catharsis. His only parental figure shuns vulnerable emotions like sadness and compassion and pushes him to be an hypercompetent tool of war. He physically can’t cry, talk nor make facial expressions, so he can’t even talk about himself or his feelings at all, he’s so isolated with his own thoughts, he has so little capacity for self-expression. What else is there than smashing things up to be seen? He has no one, people wouldn’t lend him the ear he needs even if he could talk probably, and the person people assume is his biggest ally and most positive relationship (Eggman) damages his mental health more than anyone else. He seeks catharsis through unleashing anger, but it makes him make bad impulsive decisions that cost him both victory and his own health, that feel unsatisfying after the fact, and that reinforce the evil image people have of him. He struggles with his identity, self-esteem, rigid thinking and world view, and his parental figure set the basis for that from day 1 and encourages his instability, he ends up coping through delusions that become huge and so destructive most notably in Sonic Heroes. He wants to be free. He wants to be someone. He wants to be seen and acknowledged for all the efforts he makes and all his objectively great achievements and abilities. Mostly, he wants to be loved, hoping even through his self-delusions that one day he could be, without having to always prove that he’s worthy of it

So yeah I wanted to do something with that, I really like the idea that he’d cry through electricity discharges like this. It’s a system dysfunction, like an uncontrollable overspill of emotions and energy, it’s big and bright because of his subconscious & vulnerable want to be seen, and it’s dangerous and angry like the power he wants to emanate. Harsh rough inhuman edges that scare, but in truth it’s just very sad and desperate. Loss of control my beloved, he’d either be so afraid of that or convinces himself that he intended it all along. Meltdown? Meltdown. (Anyone love how meltdown is a term used with nuclear reactor dysfunction as well? Me too) 

Might as well say this too but usually when Metal is "crying", tbh moreso having a metldown yeah, but like needing to externalize his pain and sadness, I imagine him a lot like Whitty from Friday Night Funkin’: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hU4jB8OIG-U&t=34s&ab_channel=ChrisuGaming You love to see a guy break down because of an overwhelming mess of emotions, because anger is a bad ✨coping mechanism✨. I just imagine Metal a lot like some silent pariah, crying in a way that is so invisible, until he explodes. Which, for this pic it’s definitely more on the silent pariah side, but pretty much on the verge of cracking yeah.

Tldr: Mob psycho 100% meltdowns is just autism culture

Also if ya like the vibes of this and how I see Metal, here’s my spotify playlist of  him if you want to listen! I’m huge on the theme of emotional suppression and breakdowns heh: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/2IzscWh2HsWPZE5sgJUbt1?si=2bc8943c91474476

#fuumiku art #fuumiku fics #my content #sonic #Metal Sonic #autistic metal sonic #metamy #sonic the hedgehog #character playlist #character analysis #angst #metal sonic angst

[julzrulz]

MHA boys with crushes pt.2

˙˚ʚ(´◡`)ɞ˚˙

How I think these MHA boys would act if they had a crush on you but make it part 2. Boys being sweeties make me go brr. bruh I'm on a roll, next stop todo and shoji (my baby)!!!

Rating: G (General Audiences, All Ages Admitted)

Pairings: Kirishima x Reader, Kaminari x Reader, Iida x Reader

TW: N/A

Notes: Headcanons, Gender Neutral Reader

───── ❝ 𝐞𝐢𝐣𝐢𝐫𝐨𝐮 𝐤𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐦𝐚 ❞ ─────

blushy blushy boi

really doesn’t want you to know how he feels about you until he knows you feel the same

the bakusquad makes it so painfully obvious, making kissy faces, bothering you about how you feel about kiri, asking if you’re free anytime soon, calling you you guys’ shipname-- and worst part, he can only sit back and watch 

poor baby

he becomes very hyper aware over stupid stuff about himself-- like getting super self-conscious if his breath smells, does his hair look funny, everything and anything

overanalyzes everything and anything, what he said, how he looked, any voice cracks

he swears you are so out of his league-- he takes advantage of every second he gets to be with you 

likes to spend time with you and makes an effort to touch you when ever he can (of course in a manly™ manner)

like sitting way to close to you, touching elbows while eating lunch, tickles you by surprise, puts his arm around your shoulder, playing with you hair alittle

doesn’t stutter around you often but when you catch him off guard he will quickly become a mess

he rubs the back of his neck and fidgets when he’s around you

likes eye contact with you but sometimes its too much for him.. he’ll get lost in them loose focus and forget what y’all were talking about

really likes to train with you, you complemented his quirk once and now he always wants to use it around you

loves to help you where he can 

even if its just holding the door open for you... and you’re at the other side of the hallway

oh god

mimics your body language subconsciously-- smiles when you smile, tilts his head when you do, moves his hands like you do  please he’s so cute

cleans up a little nicer when he knows he’s going to be around you

likes when you spend one on one time with him, there’s less pressure without his friends around because they make his crush so obvious to you

he would call you bro by accident and then beat himself up about it-- seriously it keeps him up at night

───── ❝ 𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐤𝐢 𝐤𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐫𝐢 ❞ ─────

the slickster™

he works to make his crush on you so painfully obvious and make it everybody's problem

lets be real he started making moves on you as soon as he laid eyes on you

he claims there was “an instant connection”

you’re different from all his other crushes, this one was not shallow

usually he would rush in and just flat out ask a chick out, get rejected and repeat

but no he wasn’t going to be rejected from you

he always showers you in praises and compliments because damn shawty kinda fine ahaha 

anything from how beautiful, to how smart, talented you are, how cool your quirk is

he really does live to serve your ego

he gets so excited around you he might just short circuit

blushy around you but loves eye contact, god why are your eyes so stunning

always flirting with you non stop, it’s so embarrassing how he does it too, but if it makes you laugh its good enough for him

he definitely preens around you, playing with/styling his hair, “accidently” flexing his arms when he stretches wants to look his best and show it off 

he lights up when you walk into class

talks and whines about how he can’t find the “right person” (spoiler: its you) he does this to try and get a reaction out of you and give you an opportunity to flirt back

as much as he's very forward with his advances, he’s always a pinch away from throwing up 

always finds a way to relate himself with you, you (for whatever reason) hate apples? well now so does he

is really insecure about going stupid on you-- he only wants you to see him at his best, after all that's what you deserve

becareful with this one he gets his advice from mineta

───── ❝ 𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐲𝐚 𝐢𝐢𝐝𝐚 ❞ ─────

Another boy I think would be clueless, not because he doesn't understand his feelings or know what a crush is, but because his brain probably goes a mile a minute 

he looks after everyone in 1-A so it takes a while to notice you’re the break in the blur

he’s WAY more mature with his crush, iida is a man not a boy

it doesn’t happen too often but when he gets nervous he starts to ramble and its always something big brain that you can’t understand

he likes to spend time with his crush anytime he can-- without being overbearing

you tell him he can call you by your first name and he makes sure to say it so softly, as if it were made of glass. compared to the yelling he always does

you’re a BIG deal to him 

he would offer to walk you anywhere you needed to be, craving some alone time with you--to get to know you better and try and gage on how you feel about him

would also offer to carry things for you

is always the first one to stick up for you, even if your in the wrong

he would also slip in a couple gifts here and there but in a discreet way

he wants you to think of him just as much as he does you

oh you need a pencil? welp iida’s got one for you and it just happens to be in your favorite color.. and he “forgets” to ask for it back, now you use it all the time

yes he gets alittle smug when he sees you use it

he would constantly be reminding you of rules and not to break them, it may come off as a nag but rules are there for a reason, to keep you safe, and that's all he wants for you

if you do break any though he always lets it slide

in his eyes you can do no wrong

any mistake you make will be praised by this man. you trip during combat? he’s got you, fail a test? he’ll study with you and say that you’re so much smarter than your grade.

has an over whelming need to care for you, always checking if you ate, drank enough water, got a good sleep

if you laugh at his weird-cute habits like the arm chopping or when he pushes his glasses up he would do it a lot more often-- ugh he loves your smile

𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐭'𝐬 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐧𝐨𝐰! 𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐤𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐩𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐛𝐲! ( ˘ ³˘)♥

#kirishima eijirou #kirishima fluff #mha kirishima #kirishima x reader #kirishima eijiro fluff #denki x female reader #denki x you #denki fluff #denki kaminari #kaminari headcanons #kaminari x reader #kirishima headcanon #iida x reader #tenya iida x reader #mha tenya iida #iida tenya #iida fluff #tenya fluff #mha headcanons #mha imagines #mha x reader

[yeocult]

ATEEZ as students studying

HONGJOONG:

king of self-care! but studies for 15 minutes then take a 2 hour break and calls it self-care (omg he thinks he’s me or smth)

has power naps every single day at least 30 mins because he’s Stressed

always thinking of ways to drop out during the middle of lectures

that one kid that talks to nobody & sits at the back of the class with his hood on to hide his airpods

doesn’t do it anymore bc one time it disconnected and “there’s some whores in this house” blasted out loud & now he’s paranoid

shows up to group studies but lets the group carry him,,, but he puts out One Really good idea to get his name on the paper

only cares about topics he’s interested in, other than that he’s just astral projecting

“yo can you send me your answers so i can compare mine?” but he copies it and says “we got the same answers” (all men do is lie</3)

calculates his marks; “ok so i need at least a 80 on this...oh wait no, a 95...damn okay...”

the type to arrives late with ice coffee

SEONGHWA:

wakes up at 5 am to study instead of staying up

scented candles and lofi music for the ~studying mood~

a linguistic learner

learns best by teaching others so he’ll do group studies often to help other people

teaches people without making them feel dumb

uses grammarly for his emails with 3 paragraphs asking 1 question with a proper greeting and a ‘sincerely, park seonghwa’

professor: ok - sent from iphone

you’ll never see him during exams week, he’s Gone

a loyal user of the outline method

his desk must be cleared at all times! a clean workspace makes it easier to focus

brings extra pencil just in case anyone needs them bc he’s the sweetest person ever (he’s fully aware that he’ll never get them back but it’s okay bc sharing is caring)

does his readings on time (you’ll never catch him slacking)

actually has his shit together for the most part 1/2

YUNHO:

writes “i love you” or “sorry” at the end of his tests (that he bombed)

the type to ask you to print “just one thing real quick” and it’s 15 page and at 2 am

uses emojis like :D & \(^o^)/ when sending emails to his professors

has a bad habit of copying word for word on the slide and he doesn’t actually understand/learn anything

goes to the library bc he thinks that’ll help him be in the ~studying vibe~

it doesn’t. ends up texting or watching youtube gameplay

has never heard of the colour-coding system in his entire life and ends up with a page filled with neon highlight

snacks breaks are the only thing keeping him Normal

leaves himself an encouraging note at the end of the reading page so when he’s finished he feels good !!

friends with all of the professors and uses all office hours

strongest points are his guessing skills in multiple-choice questions (process of elimination ftw!)

he tries his best, doesn’t care about marks that much because he knows it doesn’t determine him (and he’s right!)

YEOSANG:

probably runs a studyblr/gram

has the cutest note ever, his handwriting is so pretty!!

he thinks that buying an ipad pro & apple pencil will make him smarter

likes it bc he can doodle on it then erase them easily :”)

has to wear blue ray glasses because of how he looks at a screen so much

mildliners, muji 0.38 gel pen, 6 ring binder, minimal planner, washi tapes, you name it! he visits muji and daiso every other week

buys wayyy too many planners and notebooks which he never ends up using

only uses pastel mildliners because they’re easy on the eyes. cringes every time he sees yunho’s highlighters v_v

his flaw is that he spends 10 mins writing his header with brush tip pens

mutes the group project gc but gets his part done like the good classmate he is

sweats every time he gets an assignment back, takes a whole ten minute to mentally prepare himself

a visual learner; makes mind maps, flow charts, etc

actually has a working printer that he uses pretty often to prints lessons before class just to be Extra prepare

tells everyone he slept well but his bullet journal habit tracker for sleep says otherwise (plz rest!!)

exclusively uses college ruled paper like the sane person he is

SAN:

uses wide-ruled paper (unfortunately not everyone is perfect</3)

starts off very positive, motivated, and organized

then everything goes downhill by the second week

will definitely set byeol on top of his keyboard, take a picture, and send it to his professor as an ‘excuse’ as why he needs an extension (it works)

can’t sit still for any longer than 30 mins, his legs are always bouncing or fidgeting with pen

flashcard king! spends a lot of time on them but it’s worth it

a utensil chewer (always willing to share his pencil but when ppl saw the bite marks they’re like No Thanks >_>)

can’t study well with groups or himself bc he’ll be distracted,,, so he needs one person that can ground him bc when they’re in the zone, he will too be on his x game mode

sends his assignment at 11:58 pm hoping his professor will take the Hint (plz don’t be afraid to ask for help u_u)

prefers listening to ghibli studio soundtracks but then he either gets emotional or sleepy

sometimes forget to mute his mic and we just hear him groaning in frustration

“haha sorry i just stubbed my toe...”

then mutes his mic and goes back to his mental breakdown

MINGI:

the only person that studies every single day just to get his brain used to the information and running

probably listens to anime op or edm music for that Energy Boost

everyone either hates or love him because...

1. loves him bc he always comes clutched with study guides (and willing to share if he likes you enough)

2. he’s good at everything even if he’s not paying attention/doing it last minute

just naturally good at retaining information and applying them

asks Big Brain question that even the professors are shook

sometimes he gets super into the topic and wants to know Everything

“i’ve never failed an exam in my life” and he’s right! big brain mingi

fetal flaw is that he forgets easily (hence why the last minute) and has to write on his palm as a reminder

clicks his pens All the time so he switched to pens with caps just to keep others from jumping him

takes naps 10 mins before classes

actually has his shit together for the post part 2/2

“if no one got me, i know khan academy and quizlet got me. can i get an amen”

WOOYOUNG:

y’all know that one mf that doesn’t have a pencil?

yea he’s been using the same one someone lend to him before a test and never returned it

it’s been two months and it’s still working well and they’re never going to get it back

a minimalist,,,, but in a bad way</3 bc he carries his stolen pencil and paper that he spilled his energy drink over and that’s about it

just throw loose papers in his bag and forgets about their existence

doesn’t do binders or notebooks, just crumbled up paper

sometimes carries a textbook just to show everyone that he’s got his life together

really noisy for No reason, always wants to know other’s marks

a kinesthetic learner

hides his screen with he gets the kahoot questions wrong (you’ll never catch him slippin)

plays coolmathgames.com during class

doesn’t really know what to study/prioritize so he overwhelms himself with every single topic ever

thinks he’s god by pulling an all-nighter to look at the 60+ slides last minute

Swears he’ll change and do better next semester,,,</3

goes to the cafe, takes pictures of his notes & laptop, post it on his story, then leaves

JONGHO:

thrives off of red bull and ice americanos

gets notes and study guides from his upperclassmen because everyone loves jongho

an audio learner so he’ll probably work out or go on a jog while listening to lessons/audiobook

never pulls all-nighters bc it messes up his sleep schedule and says he’ll do it in the morning but he never does

doesn’t even own a highlighter, he’ll circle or underline stuff with a red or black pen

has never touched a textbook in his life

only the study guides and slides, his textbook is collecting dust rn

his notes are literally Only for him because his handwriting only makes sense to him

has questionable handwriting,,, it’s like decoding

multitasks a lot but it ends up taking a lot longer than he wanted to (bc it’s a myth)

very spontaneous; he’ll grind for 5 hours straight but sometimes he won’t even touch a pencil

works best when he talks about the work in groups and share information with each other, like having a convo about the topic

unmutes his mic Once after the lesson to say “bye”

does his work right after the lessons but then takes a short break & doesn’t even Look back for the rest of the night

-

a/n: tag yourself ! i’m a bit of hohong (i projected myself on all of them in some way lmaooo)

#ateez #ateez scenarios #ateez imagines #ateez drabbles #kim hongjoong #park seonghwa #jeong yunho #kang yeosang #choi san #song mingi #jung wooyoung #choi jongho #ateez writings #ateez hongjoong #ateez seonghwa #ateez yunho #ateez yeosang #ateez san #ateez mingi #ateez wooyoung #ateez jongho #tried to put both online and in class stuff so yea :>

[silentxxsoul]

The “my sinus infection gave me a tooth ache so Lone Star better be good or I’ll throw hands, Tim” reaction dump:

I hurt, I’m tired, and there’s ice-turning-to-snow in the forecast tomorrow evening so everyone’s in a panic like we don’t live in the Midwest and this is the first ever snow 🙄

Anyway putting my grouchy ass in time out while Grace threatens Crusty McGee with violence 🥰 love you girlie!!

Weasel hands ahahahaha YES GRACE ILY

Yes dipshit you are a weasel, glad you’re finally picking up lmao

Oh yea this weird coma thing is still happening.

Man y’all nurses need to have some better situational awareness jfc poor Caros

Carlos is literally going to kill me 😭

“A man who doesn’t even want me”

Y’all I’m not ok because even though I had a feeling tk was behind the breakup seeing Carlos like that has me in my FEELS

Rafael is such a fucking phenomenal actor, I’m not even kidding. I love him.

I know I dunk on Owen a lot, but come on man how tf are you going to turn TKs heart stopping into your fault for his stopping???? Stop the martyrdom dude no one wants or needs it.

This poor TK is gonna wake from a coma just to have Andrea take him out for breaking her baby’s heart 💀😂

Grace relentlessly roasting Man-Bun-Charlie-Swan gives me so much life ahhhhh lmao

“Billy Tyson is shady. Knock me over with a feather.” Idk how but imma make that into a sticker and toss it on red bubble because Grace has me cackling.

Fuck it, I’m going to figure out how to make a sticker for all her zingers at his expense. That requires motivation and finding my Apple Pencil, but—

This dude really is gonna siphon gas and hot wire a TOUR BUS like it’s going to redeem him even an inch. I see you, but I’m ignoring you

Let’s not get distracted by the fact that Carlos really went through it alone. I mean the 126 and fam were aware of it and I have no doubt they reached out but he didn’t even have his parents to help him through what is still eating him alive. Man I need to give that poor fella a hug 🥺

At least he’s got his momma by him 💛

….and she left and I feel that’s on me my bad

When Ronen teased the best Tarlos moment I didn’t consider it might be one sided. But tbh I’m digging this, mostly because I’m trash for the bedside confession trope.

YALL SHUT UP IM LISTENING TO THE TEA DAMN IT

GO BACK TO BEING ONE SIDED

a sweet power move that y’all needed to communicate about ughhhhh

COMMUNICATE COMMUNICATE COMMUNICATE

Like I see both sides, wanting to do something sweet for your partner and surprise them but I also see how TK would feel like it was an imbalance of perceived power in the relationship. Especially with his cautious history, and history of self sabotage. They need a good long talk after this for sure

Y’all Judd gets to be there 😭😭😭💛💛💛

There’s parallels here, like when Jee was born in OG and Albert lived

Y’all that is a miraculously clean baby

Also are we just going to forget that Weasel collapsed earlier or ???

TK reaching for Carlos 😭😭😭 IM DEAD TIM OK IM DECEASED WHITE FLAG WHITE FLAG

Wait wait wait so we’re just gonna speed back into this relationship like nothing happened ? I mean I’m not exactly surprised but damn, I really needed them to mend some shit before falling back into this.

The continuity with the baby is so bad. One shot she’s all swaddled and the next she’s half out of the blanket 😬 and like I rarely catch this stuff

Lindsay’s dad totally funded them I love it 💛🖤💛🖤

Y’all they look fiiiiiiine in those dress uni’s I mean damn

What was it Hen said in OG “she’s not my ex I don’t have to like her” or something?? Applicable to Billy. Forgive him all you want but imma keep side eyeing him.

Oh, that’s a pleasant surprise! And puts the “she dead” theories to rest, which admittedly would have been an interesting storyline.

Little Charlie’s outfit omg 🥰

8/10 this was a solid wrap up! Points docked for Tarlos jumping back in, but I’ll pretend they COMMUNICATED off camera for my own benefit. Also points docked because the sfx for the snow because as someone who sees snow regularly that was painful lol

#911 lone star spoilers #911 lone star #I’m not kidding my fucking face hurts and my tooth hurts and I’m not about to drop hella money to go have a doc give me a zpack #American healthcare is the gd worst #and I pay hella money to have health insurance 😤 #anyway these tags are off the rails whoops

[jzixuans]

you ever so close to freedom that you’ve got your face pressed up against the metaphorical window to the point where your breath fogs the glass

good happy things:

finished my fourth exam an hour early today!! just got one more tomorrow!!!!

both my ipad pro and my apple pencil are finally here y’all once i get time and my hands back you’re gonna get so much art

i’m finally gonna have so much time to deep dive marwan and luca’s filmographies ahhhhh

also i’m logging out at a decent time for the first time in how long?? wowowow

chanukah cat 

thinking about mister yusuf al-kaysani, professional love of my life

also marwan’s eye crinkles

also also the fact that every so often it’ll hit me out of the blue that we have. actual canon gay superheroes. who are so in love. and kiss on screen. ahhhhhhhhhhhhhh

this is gonna be my first semester break in a while where i have absolutely zero homework hanging over me i’m so excited

retrograde by pinkninja bc i Cannot stop thinking about it

fics where joe and nicky are ridiculous and giggly and silly i love those

#i'm so emo abt joe and nicky lately #okok gonna clock out now so my brain's not sleepy all day tomorrow #gn!

[heartofsnark]

This Is Love (Chapter Eleven): Angels of Doubt, Bearing Broken Halos

Notes; The chapter title is pretentious as fuck, but I don’t care. I’m very happy with the beginning of this chapter so I’m very excite to finally let y’all read it fully. Overall, this chapter definitely is more of the build up that this uhhhh nice little religious family mayyyyyhaps be a bit less nice than originally thought.

Word Count:  10451

Chapter Warnings: Cult Angels, Animal Death (in the context of dangerous wildlife needing to be put down), A Judge Wolf, Indoctrination, Assault, Me Awkwardly trying to write himbo Nick Rye for the first time

For chapter one and the warnings about this fic’s overarching themes, please click here!

For the previous chapter; click here!

They don’t go to The Spread Eagle that night, staying too late making plans. But it’s all for the best in the end, Casey would be more busy in the evening and if she’s interrupting his work, he’ll be less likely to listen. It’ll be easier to talk to him tomorrow just as the bar opens, before anyone arrives and during down time. Regardless, when she comes back to the trailer park. She breaks next to the registration building, checking her mailbox in case Cassie or Joseph had wrote her back, but no such luck. Maybe it will take a while for them to even get it?

A breeze passes through as she leaves the building, that familiar flower smell itching at her nose. The trailer park has fields of those white flowers surrounding it, the delicate petals seem ghostly in the moonlight. Moonflowers, the trailer park has to be named after them, these flowers that haunt her in her dreams. A shift of movement, far back in the expanse of flowers catches her eye. Someone tending to the flowers with a hoe, but she doesn’t know anyone in the trailer park who takes care of the flowers. Surely, if they had a grounds keeper, they’d start with the trash within area; not the flowers surrounding it. 

Dahlia decides to park her bike before investigating, not wanting to leave it in the open while she journeys through the flowers. She pulls out her phone once she’s parked, tucking one earbud in. If only to ease her nerves as she walks to confront the odd stranger. 

“When you told me I should text your brother.

I was walking with a blunt in my hand.

Double Jameson was in the other.

I was drinking like a spiritual man.”

She stands at the edge of the field of flowers, little the scent tickle her nose, watching the…person in the distance. Their gender, or at least presentation of it, unidentifiable. She blinks her eyes, when did she start seeing spots? Her tension eases, body and mind relaxing. 

“I was just talkin’ to Jesus in my hotel room.

I was just talkin’ to Jesus in my hotel room”

And she walks further through the flowers, brushing through them, fractals blurring her vision with every step. Her head swims and floats away, fuzzy as the smell surrounds her. She drags her fingers along the blossoms as she walks, grounding herself with their velvet touch, the contrast of her black painted fingernails against them. 

“And I could barely stand

He said, "Get some water, man"

'Cause they don't understand

I'm not what they think I am”

As she nears them with every unsteady step, she sees them more clearly. And truly they’re a ghastly sight. Shaved head and dirty white clothes; the smell of the flowers strengthens as she nears them, turning acrid with an edge. That smell comes from them, like they’d bathed in chemicals infused with the flowers. The mask latched around their grime coated face, covering their mouth is marked with the Eden’s Gate symbol. They pay her no mind, focused on tending to the moonflowers, their eyes are glazed nearly white and milky. Like Dahlia’s eyes looked her first night in Hope County, when she dreamed of Faith despite having never met her. 

“They can never ever understand me, no

What I came from, what I was before”

“Are you…okay?” She asks them, despite her own swimming vision and weak knees. 

“HelpmeFaithhelpmeFaithshieldmefromsorrow.” 

They grumble, not sing, the lyrics to one of Eden’s Gate’s songs. Their voice a rasp as if they can hardly breathe, each word running into the other, energy manic.  The moonlight shining on gaunt cheeks and white eyes makes them look dead, a walking corpse before her. She reaches out, gingerly touching their shoulder, hoping touch can break through whatever state they’re in. 

And then they scream, swing the garden hoe and bashing it against the side of Dahlia’s head. She’s knocked to the ground, head hitting rock and dirt. The creature screams out and jumps on her, trying to maul her. Vacant eyes staring down at her, her body and head too fuzzy to even give it the reaction it deserves. She should be scared, she should be terrified, but she isn’t. 

Gently, she puts her hands on each side of the person’s neck, applying pressure, not enough to strangle but to hold it at slight distance. It tries to dig dirty fingers into her flesh through her jacket, screaming mangled cries of pain or anger, she can’t tell as she looks over its face. The haunting glow of moonlight on their dirty face. 

“How you get to heaven with a broke halo?

How you get to heaven with a broke halo?”

“Help me, Faith,” Dahlia sings the song it used to soothe itself, “help me Faith, shield me from sorrow… From fear of tomorrow…”

And a switch has been flipped, it stops screaming. Body going lax, fingers no longer trying to tear her apart as she sings the church song, own voice overlapping the contrasting melody of her music. 

“Help me Faith, help me Faith, shield me from sadness…From worry and madness…” 

And it’s slipping out of her loosening hold and climbing off her, resuming it’s gardening work, as if she never existed at all. On trembling legs and with her vision still blurring, she leaves, not sure of what else to do. A part of her knows she should be more panicked, more concerned, more anything, but then she takes another inhale the floral scent around her and she can’t find the energy. It fades as she leaves the flowers and their scent behind, vision steadying as she enters her trailer, the full reality dawning on her just as she shuts the door behind her. 

“What the actual fuck!?” She screams at her empty living room, because what the actual fuck did she just see?  Her mouth is dry and her brain a mess as distress finally shines through the haze. 

Dahlia digs her phone out, shutting off her music and doing a search. Her vision is still fuzzy with prisms of shifting colors, body still light and floaty. They were there the first time she saw Faith, they constantly itch her nose and make her eyes see things. The church compound was covered in bushels of them.  

Moonflowers, she searches, and sure enough the images show the white trumpet shaped blossoms. Also called datura, angel trumpets and it’s down a rabbit hole. They’re toxic and hallucinogenic, can be harvested for either medication or poison. Scopolamine and atropine are in them; Dahlia does not even remotely know jack shit about chemistry. But a quick search shows scopolamine has been used in everything from nausea medicine to truth serum. So…she may have just hallucinated the person? From the flowers… but when she touches her forehead, where the person stuck her, blood stains her fingers. She really did get hurt…

Dahlia grabs her sketchbook, sitting down on the floor before her coffee table as she’s done so many times before, and she draws what she saw. Painstakingly she tries to recreate them, to draw the gaunt of their cheeks and the grime on their skin. To catch the white emptiness of their eyes. And she dates the drawing, scratching out the date in as neatly as she can. And on the next page she draws her first weird dream, sketching herself vomiting flowers and blood, those moonflowers. She adds the rough date she remembers it happening in the corner when she’s satisfied. Then she draws herself burnt and marred with flowers blooming from her mangled remains, hand moving of it’s own accord to match the details, shutting out the rest of the world as she works to carefully craft every line. She dates it as well and then draws the newest one, smears of ink on bare skin with flowers blooming from them. 

Once each image is created with a date etched in its corner, she sits back and rakes a hand through her hair. She’s had nightmares before this, certainly, but never as frequent or vivid as these. Flowers are the recurring theme and she’s not sure why; maybe the datura are doing it? The scent of them always present, making her sleeping brain conjure odd images. She already has a list of things to do; the apple festival is the highest priority, but she still wants to know what each flower means and what on earth is working in those flower fields, what connection it has to Eden’s Gate. 

She’s exhausted, graphite from her pencil smudged and sticking to her hand. But she feels more at ease having put her demons into art, having created something out of this. There’s still a lot of questions in her mind. This constant back in forth of trusting the church only to doubt them again is frustrating. 

Dahlia barely manages not to fall asleep in the shower that night, exhaustion clinging heavy to her leaden muscles and pulling at her eyelids when she lays down on her couch. 

The junior deputy is running on two hours of sleep, coffee, and an energy drink the next morning. But that doesn’t stop her from swinging into The Spread Eagle as soon as it opens, Pratt in tow since they’re technically on shift. 

“Something wrong, deputies?” Mary May asks when they stride in, Dahlia can already see Casey through the kitchen window, prepping food for the later in the evening. 

“No, we actually just wanted to talk to you and Casey about something.” 

“What’s up?” Mary May raises an eyebrow and the chef’s head perks up. 

Dahlia explains Debbie and Doug’s situation, that John is trying to buy them out, at the very mention of the Seed sibling’s name she can see Mary May tense. But the tension lessens, smiles on the bartender and cook’s face when the deputy mentions their plans for an apple festival. 

“I know we could use more cooks selling food there and Debbie mentioned you work with the Testy Festy, Casey.” 

“Plus, figured the band that plays here, might be willing to work a night or two if you talked to ‘em Mary May.” 

“Look, you had me at pissing off John Seed,” Mary May says, grinning, “I’ll talk to the band and Casey, you damn well better help them out.” 

“Come around here, sister,” Casey calls out, voice deep and booming as she walks around into the kitchen already warm as starts prepping food, he spares her a glance as he minces vegetables, “your destiny hangs off you like a coat, the soul of a warrior, and the heart of a hero.” 

Dahlia blinks, taken aback by his unabashed and weirdly soulful compliments. She doesn’t really believe in destiny nor does she see herself as a warrior or hero, but she certainly appreciates the thought. Her heart, that of a hero apparently, warms and she smiles after another second.

“So…you’ll help?” 

“It’s important for people to gather, to bond, and feel a sense of community.  I’ll call Deb and Doug to offer any help I can.” 

“Thank you so much!” Dahlia grins: Casey is definitely an odd duck, but he cares about the community and willing to help. So, a fantastic guy in her book. 

“Happy to help, sister.” 

First two people dragged into their plan, Pratt and Dahlia give some friendly goodbyes before being on their way. This is already coming together and Stray is nearly vibrating with excitement as they leave the bar. 

The pair continue to do their patrol while swinging in to talk with folks about the festival. They swing by Lorna’s Truck Stop, Dahlia unable to resist snapping a picture of the giant cheesy cow statue outside of it before they walk in, door chiming.  An older woman is talking to someone in a green hood, the woman with chubby cheeks and blue eyes pushing a little bag of mini pies into the hooded person’s bruised hands. 

“Here you go, Jess, on the house as always.” 

“Thanks,” the hooded girl responds, an awkward gruff to the words before she leaves. When Dahlia catches a sight of her, Jess has a face of mottled bruises and cuts. 

“Anything I do for you, Deputies?” 

“We were hoping you could help us out, Lorna,” Pratt starts. 

And just like Casey and Mary May; Lorna’s all bright smiles and kind eyes, happy to help. Even pushing bags of the free small handmade pies into the deputy’s hands before they go. There is something undeniably heartwarming at everyone’s willingness to help. She crams one of the little pasties into her mouth, sugary berries on her tongue as they get back into the cruiser. 

The shift passes by with ticketing traffic violations and stopping in to rope people into helping out. Hudson and Brennan sending texts letting Dahlia know that Grace has agreed to help and Adelaide will too if only so her boytoy Xander can have a smoothie stand during the festival. Riding through the valley, Dahlia sees a billboard advertising gun lubricant, Grace Armstrong’s face plastered on it, though her eyes on the board seem off. Dahlia too far away to put her finger on it, but it looks like that part of the advert has been damaged.  An award-winning sniper and veteran; well loved in the community. Dahlia only saw a glimpse of her at the barbecue, talking with Hudson, but it seems clear just how important she is to the county. 

Within an hour of their shift ending, Doug and Debbie have them called out to the orchard. Their smiles are bright, the middle-aged couple holding each when the deputies pull in. Pratt’s still trying to pretend to have a grumpy face but there’s still a slight smile pulling at his lips as they get out of the cruiser. 

Arms are wrapping around Dahlia in a second, Debbie pulling her into a tight hug, the young deputy tenses hands hovering awkwardly at the woman’s sides. 

“Thank you, so much,” Debbie says, pulling away but her hands still on Dahlia’s shoulders, “we’ve been getting calls all day, everyone wants to help us do this, thank you so much.” 

“Uh, yeah, it’s no problem…just happy to help,” Dahlia flusters under the attention, proud of what she’s done, but squirming under the weight of gratitude. 

“Well, we certainly appreciate it,” Doug tells her with a smile, “but we called you out ‘cause we got some flyers made, figure’d it help advertise, though word of mouth already seems to be doing us a lot of good.” 

“We could definitely hand them out, see if some places are willing to hang them up too.” 

“And now we’re the flyer brigade,” Pratt grumbles under his breath and Dahlia jabs her elbow into his side. 

“I’ve already been coming up with everything I wanna sell at the festival, but if you two have some free time Sunday, I could use some taste testers too,” Debbie offers, with a smile, “least I can do is feed you for all your help.” 

“Yeah, I can do that,” Dahlia agrees readily. 

“I…could probably swing by.” Pratt tries so hard to sound above it all, but free apple pie can apparently draw even him in. 

“Can’t wait to see you both then!” 

They wave goodbye to the couple, Dahlia packing the flyers with her into the cruiser car. The ending hours of their shift and the day is spent finding places to hang them up. Mary May posting them in The Spread Eagle, hanging in the window of the garage and general store, Whitehorse even letting it be posted up in the window of the department.  Dahlia’s ride home that night takes longer as she stops at places to ask if they’d hang up the advertisement; after getting Lorna’s Truck Stop and Audrey’s Diner to put them up. Dahlia stops at the Hollyhock Saloon, bartender agreeing to hang it up in the small bar, the rookie deputy giving a quick hello to Brennan and some of the other officers gathered at his table. The 8-bit Pizza bar hangs them up without any question, happy to help, and Dahlia manages to convince Darcy to hang it up in the registration building of the trailer park before she heads in for the night. Dahlia crashes easily that night, sleep finding her as soon as she hits the couch.  

The next day Stray is hit with déjà vu as they’re called out to deal with Eden’s Gate blocking another road. She’s still not sure why this is apparently a thing they do. And to her misfortune it’s not Waylon or members of the church she likes waiting behind the cement block when they pull up this time; but Theodore and Lonny. Because of course. 

“Deputies,” Lonny forces a smile, “to what do we owe the pleasure?” 

“Well, you’re breaking the law, so there’s that,” Pratt says with a roll of his eyes. 

“Yeah, heard you two gave some of our members a hard time about blocking off a road,” Theodore comments, arms crossed over his chest. 

“I’ll refer you back to the fact it’s against the law,” Dahlia grumbles, “why on earth are you blocking the road anyway?”

“Got some property nearby that needs some work.” 

“The church own a lot a property?” Dahlia raises an eyebrow, that was Waylon’s reasoning too. 

“Soon to be even more when John secures the orchard for us,” Lonny has too wide of a grin as he looks Dahlia over, “though rumor has it some little cop is trying to get in the way.” 

“Irrelevant, you’re breaking the law. Just scram and there won’t be any issues.”

“Look, h-“ 

“We’ll be going then, deputy,” Theodore puts a hand on Lonny’s back, reigning him in. Though the way Lonny sneers tells Dahlia that their conflict is only resolved for the moment. 

Regardless, Pratt and her watch as the men yet again pack away the blocks and clear the road out. Dahlia still can’t quite figure out why on earth they’d need to or would want to block the roads. Between that and the strange person she saw in the flowers, bearing the churches symbol, things just seem to get weirder and weirder. She considers for a moment asking the church members there about the person with the shaved head, but she has a feeling asking more questions will just put her higher up on Lonny and Theodore’s shit-lists. 

“Still don’t get why they keep blocking the roads,” Dahlia comments when they get back in the patrol car. 

“They’re assholes, what more reason they need.” Pratt shrugs before starting the cruiser engine and Dahlia just doesn’t feel like it’s that simple. 

“Well, if they do it again, we don’t really have a choice but to arrest ‘em do we?” 

“Can’t let them get away with shit forever; three strikes seem fair.” 

Questions still run through her mind; but there’s no way of getting answers at the moment, left to bury her curiosity as they leave back down the winding roads. Hours pass and bright blues shift to pastel pinks as the sun sets upon Hope County. 

That evening at The Spread Eagle, she’s listening to Pratt and Hudson argue about something; she can’t even be sure what but she’s just amused to not be at the butt of the humor tonight. She’s cramming fries into her mouth when she feels eyes on her. 

“That’d be her right there,” Mary May says, pointed out at Dahlia as she talks to a man the young officer has only seen in passing. Shaggy dark hair under a cap and beard on his face, though the last time she saw him he’d been wearing glasses. She thinks it’s Nick, only having seen a glance of him at his own barbecue. 

“If I’m in some sort of trouble, I’d like fair warning, Mary May.” Dahlia comments, unsure why anyone would be trying to find her in a crowd. The blonde’s smile eases her nerves as she comes across the bar, the man walking Dahlia’s way. 

“No trouble, Deputy, Nick here was just wanting to know which one of you started the apple festival. He’s going fly a banner ad around for Debbie and Doug.” 

“Oh, that’s awesome.” 

“I just wanted to find out who was helping them out, Nick Rye,” he introduces himself, sticking his hand out for her to shake. 

“Pleasure to meet you.” 

“I’ve been crop dusting for Doug and Debbie for years, last thing anyone needs is for John to get his hands on that place.”

“That seems to be most people’s sentiment.” 

“Told ya just about everyone is sick of his shit,” Mary May says with a shake of her head, “it’s about time he doesn’t get what he wants.” 

“That son of a bitch has been hounding me and Kim for months now, trying to buy our place.”  Nick’s jaw clenches, irritation coming off him in waves. 

“I know Kim damn near broke his nose for it.” 

“Wait what?” Dahlia raises an eyebrow; how often does John harass people? 

“Listen to this,” Nick gesture emphatically, now sitting down next to Dahlia, “asshole shows up to the house while I’m gone, trying to bully Kim into selling the damn place, while she’s pregnant. What kind of sick fuck shows up at a man’s house while he’s gone and tries to strongarm his wife into signing the place over. Fuckers lucky I wasn’t home.” 

“You not being home was kind of the point of when he showed up.,” Mary May reminds him, “besides, no offense, but even ready to pop I think I trust Kim’s right hook protected her more than yours ever could.” 

“Now, that’s just mean,” Nick says with a slight pout to his face, reminding Dahlia of a tall puppy dog. 

“It’s okay Nick, anything you lack in strength you make up for in…” Mary May seems to have to search for the next word, normally brains would be the natural contrast, “well, you just keep being you.” 

“Never really thought about being anyone else; well except maybe an eagle, but I don’t think that counts.”  

“No, it doesn’t really count, Nick,” Mary May says with a slight laugh.

Dahlia stifles her own laugh raising an eyebrow at the ridiculous turn of the conversation. Nick is sweet and willing to help out with the festival, so she won’t spend too much time questioning his desire to be an eagle. It’s not long before Pratt and Hudson fall into conversation with the pilot; allowing Dahlia to comfortably settle into the background as the night winds down.

It’s not even the noon the following day before things around Hope County manage to pick up pace.  Sirens and lights flashing as Pratt rushes them up north towards the mountain; there’s a palpable tension. Crisis situations are rare; most days filled with handing out traffic tickets and dealing with roadblocks. Hell, the county is boring enough that the sheriff would allow them to actively work on a festival during shift hours. So, a call requesting EMS, all deputies and units, and the F.A.N.G Center; is definitely out of the normal. 

They see the gathering of people as they pull up, Whitehorse is talking with workers in F.A.N.G Center shirts, Hudson and other officers gathered around and EMS workers carrying someone into the back of an ambulance. 

“Pratt, Rookie; over here now!” The sheriff calls out for them and they rush over. 

“What’s going on?” Pratt is the one to ask. 

“Wolf, possibly rabid, but we don’t know. It attacked a pair of hikers. We tried to tranq it but nothing is bringing it down, we gotta find it and put it down before it hurts anyone else.” The F.A.N.G Center employee explains to them. 

“No way to get around killing it?” Dahlia asks, she understands it can’t always be avoided, but she would prefer not to.  

“We hit that damn thing with enough tranq to take down an elephant and it still tried to maul us before running off; tried to get it with a snare pole and it broke it. We can’t rehabilitate an animal we can’t get near and if we let it go; it’ll hurt someone else.” 

“You heard the man, alright,” Whitehorse’s voice booms as he starts addressing everyone, commanding attention “we got a wolf to find, grown wolf, white fur and aggressive. I want everyone to stay in groups; we have tranquilizers, snare poles, and what’s used to put ‘em down. We want to try to do it as humanely as possible but protect yourselves and keep an ear to your radio. We need to make sure the trails are safe and can’t let anyone else get bit; move out!”

The deputies are given tranquilizer guns, the snare poles, and syringes filled with pentobarbital. Though, given what they’ve been told, she’s not completely sure how effective any of it will be. If the wolf has enough tranquilizers to take down an elephant in it already and is still moving; as well as having previously broken one of the snare poles, then how on earth is any of this suppose to work? 

But she doesn’t voice these concerns as she follows after Pratt, Hudson, and another police officer tagging along so they can maintain a decent sized group per Whitehorse’s instructions. 

The mountains are beautiful, she thought that when she’s gone hiking before, but even during this tense situation she finds herself amazed by how gorgeous it is. Bright green summer grass and towering trees as far as the eye can see. Mountains that reach up to kiss the bright blue sky. 

Dahlia stays at the back of the group, letting Pratt and Hudson lead as she keeps her ears and eyes peeled for anything suspicious. The sneer pole is across her shoulders, her wrists on top and holding it there as she walks. She half listens to Pratt and Hudson talk; something about people making up werewolf rumors because the wolves have been acting wilder and wilder lately. She’s reminded of her meal at the Grill Steak, that man who warned a group of people about wolves. He claimed they were trained by Eden’s Gate; but those still just sound like conspiracy theories. 

Tension crawls up Stray’s spine, skin forming goosebumps at the sensation of being watched, then the sound of snapping branches coming from forests that surround the trail she walks along. She moves without thinking, leaving the trail and her group behind, following where she heard the noise. 

Branches and brush scratch at her arms as she ventures deeper into the wooded area; then she sees his back. Jacob Seed, why does there always seem to be a member of their family just around the corner when trouble happens? 

“Something you need,” he says, not bothering to turn and face her, examining his red rifle. 

“You shouldn’t be out here.” 

“I shouldn’t be,” he spares her a glance over his shoulder, blue eyes rife with condescension, “last time I checked it’s a free country, ain’t it?” 

“That’s not what I mean. There’s a wolf running around; possibly rabid. It’s not safe for you to be out here alone.” 

And he laughs; dry and deep, the sound making her raise her eyebrows. Why is the idea of being mauled by a rabid wolf so funny to him?

“You worrying about me?” He asks, finally turning to face her in full, shifting the bright red gun to the holster on his back. 

“I mean, yes? My job is keeping the public safe and you are a member of the public.” 

“Pfff, you’re just a pup,” he says walking past her, “be better off watching out for yourself.” 

His hand is large and rough as it ruffles her hair while he walks by; his palm and fingers nearly encompassing the entire top of her head. His hand is probably bigger than her face she realizes, heat flushing up her face though she’s not sure of why. He’s so condescending and patronizing and fucking giant; the last point isn’t entirely relevant but it’s still true. 

“I’m a deputy, don’t patronize me.” She says, reaching up to grab his hand from her head, capturing it in her own. His rough scarred hand is nearly double the size of her own; warm calloused skin against her own. 

“You having fun there?” He asks, when she doesn’t let go of his hand right away, instead pressing her small hand back against his palm, comparing the immense size difference. He really could probably wrap one hand around her entire head. 

“Your hands are so big, wow.” 

“’Preciate it pup.”  

And he laughs again, still dry and brief in it’s sound, pulling his giant hand from her smaller one before he leaves. She glares at his back; corded muscle shifting beneath his black tee shirt. Despite her pout, she can understand why he’d see her unable to defend herself in comparison to him. She’s been confident in her physical abilities for a while; but she imagines a man like Jacob isn’t scared of anything. 

“Rook, where the hell are you?” Pratt’s voice crackles over her radio as Jacob walks off. 

“There was a hunter out here, I was warning him about the wolf,” Dahlia explains herself, she wasn’t suppose to leave the group per Whitehorse’s orders, but no one could blame her for warning a civilian. There’s something odd about thinking of Jacob as just a hunter or civilian; though she’s not quite sure why. 

“We’re in the woods near the Visitor’s Center, get over here, you pain in the ass.” 

The radio crackles out and Dahlia gets on her way; she knows the Visitor’s Center is south of where she is. Though she has no sense of direction, so that has little bearing on her ability to find it. She hikes down, feeling that’s the closest approximation to south that she can get, sticking a little closer to the woods than the paths. She prefers the shade and atmosphere of being surrounded by the trees. 

But the further she travels down, the sparser the trees grow, exposing Dahlia to the sun. Green grass and branches crushing underfoot as she stumbles down the terrain. She can just imagine Pratt and Hudson’s frustration, but warning someone about a rabid wolf is certainly understandable.

A drawn-out howl echoes through the woods, making the deputy freeze. Sunlight is warm on her face and stinging at her eyes as she turns towards the sound. A spire of craggy rocks coming off the mountain; the silhouette of a wolf howling with the sun behind it. She uses her hand to shield from the sunlight, straining to see more detail. Seven distinct darts stick from the wolves back; tranquilizers. 

Dahlia quickly tugs her uniform shirt off from over her black tank top, wrapping the fabric around her forearm. Not quite the cushioned guard they use for training police dogs, but it will provide some barrier between it’s bite and her skin. Worse case scenario, she’ll be taking rabies shots once everything is done. She holds the syringe of pentobarbital in one hand, she has her firearm too if that’s unable to bring the wolf down, but she prefers to let it go peacefully if she can. 

She stays crouched down as she approaches the peaked edge of the mountain, craggy rock building up to a spire, levels to climb up to reach the clearing where the wolf sits. Dahlia stays low as she climbs, moving as quietly as she can, using a blue grappling hook handle to help lift herself up to the final level. There’s a gap in the clearing; a log showing a passage between craggy rock to craggy rock; boulders surrounded by grass. She can see the wolf, but it’s yet to noticed her, another howl echoing out as it cries out to the sky. 

It’s beautiful and she’s all at once ashamed that it has to be put down. Matted white fur with a black nose and lips; it’s eyes are luminously silver, like moonlight. Red is mottled across it’s face, red frothing around it’s mouth, as well as a brighter crimson stroked across it’s brow and down it’s nose. Across it’s furred shoulder blade and spine are seven different tranquilizer darts that were shot at it, how has it not passed out? It doesn’t see her not right away, then it’s nostrils twitch and it’s lips pull back to snarl, red tinged drool dripping down it’s maw. Then it’s gaze is on her, growling and baring it’s teeth. 

And then it pounces.  

She puts up her cloth wrapped forearm, the force of it’s body hitting hers knocks her onto her back. It’s teeth snap into the fabric, as it tries to chew through her arm, the edges of fangs just grazing the flesh beneath. One large paw presses against her wrist, attempting to pin her limb down so it can rip the meat off her bones. 

Dahlia pulls back the plunger on the syringe before slamming the needle into the thick of the wolves neck, sinking through fur and flesh before she pushes the chemical through. The wolf snarls through it’s bite on it, then she watches that shine in it’s silver eyes die. It’s mouth goes slack and then it’s body falls limp on top of her. 

The deputy pushes the wolves dead weight off of her, getting up onto her feet, she touches the torn shirt wrapped around her forearm. Drool and blood has stained the green, small damage done to her skin under. It stings but nothing she can’t deal with; the idea of getting rabies shots worries her more. She crouches over the wolf and looks at it’s face, the red around it’s mouth is darker, rusted and clearly blood. But the brighter more purposeful crimson looks like paint. 

She remembers the warnings she overheard in the Grill Steak before; someone warning conservationists about wolves owned by Eden’s Gate. Though, he called them a cult. It’s not for sure or a real connection; conspiracy theories and paint. But, who could have gotten close enough to paint the wolf’s face? Who would want to? 

“Rookie,” Pratt’s voice crackles over her radio. 

“Pratt…” 

“Rook, if you’re not here in five minutes, I’m gonna kick your ass,” Hudson threatens in the background. 

“Please, she’d probably like that.” 

Dahlia’s face flushes at Pratt’s teasing, she can’t say he’s completely wrong, but that’s not the point.  She hefts the wolf’s corpse up onto her shoulder, carrying it’s heavy weight, the head of the furry creature beside her head. It’s fur is soft and thick despite the matted nature. She’s not big on hunting culture, but the wolf would make a nice rug. 

“I got the wolf,” she says into her radio, holding it in one hand while the other keeps the carcass steady on her shoulder as she carefully makes her way down the craggy rocks. 

“What?” 

“I got the wolf,” she repeats to Pratt’s flat question. 

“What? Wh-where the fuck are you?.” 

“I’m on a big ass like spirally mountain thing.” 

“That tells us literally nothing,” Hudson informs her.

“Uhhhh,” Dahlia looks over the edge, of the elevated mountainside, “I think I see a helipad nearby?” 

“Fuck, I know where you are, stay put. Okay, do not approach the wolf.” 

“Uhhh, I think you misunderstood me.” 

“What do you mean?” Pratt asks and she can just imagine his raised eyebrow. 

“I mean, I got the wolf, I already put it down. We can call off the search, but, uh, I think we have bigger issues.” 

“Did you get hurt again?” 

“Hey,” she objects to his tone, “you make it sound like I’m always getting hurt.” 

“You didn’t answer me.”

“No, I did not get…seriously hurt.” 

“Oh lord,” Hudson grumbles in the background. 

“Look, that’s not the issue, alright. Just get up here and let Whitehorse know what’s going on, okay?” 

“Yeah, yeah.” 

Dahlia finds a steady rock in the clearing to pull herself up onto as she waits, since apparently Hudson and Pratt have figured out where she is. She tries to look for anything else on the wolf that could indicate it being owned; but nothing. Dahlia does find herself wondering why it’s fur is white? Aren’t white wolves usually those in snowy climates, for camouflage? 

She doubts she’ll receive any answers, so she tries to quiet her mind. The sun warms her skin where she sits on the rock, white wolf still up on her shoulder, ripped uniform shirt still wrapped around her forearm. It all forms an odd picture, she’s certain. 

It’s less than an hour or so before she hears the rustle of footsteps; Hudson and Pratt along with the other officer walking up the way to her. Pratt just stops a second and shakes his head, Hudson is rolling her eyes. 

“Hello,” Dahlia says with a soft wave. 

“What the actual fuck, Rook?” 

And she cracks up; unable to help but laugh at the absolute absurdity of the situation and Hudson’s flat response. She may have already hit the highlight of her career here. 

“Stop laughing; it’s not funny, you could have gotten seriously hurt!” Pratt tries to scold her but he’s laughing through his words, the oddity of it all must be hitting him as well. Dahlia presses a hand to mouth to try and stifle her laughter as Hudson gets her radio out. 

The senior deputy radios Whitehorse, letting him know they’ve gotten the wolf. He tells them where to meet him with the body, so the veterinarian and F.A.N.G Center workers can examine it. Dahlia will be reliant on actually listening and following obediently behind the older deputies.

“C’mon, Rookie, let go.”

“Alright.” Dahlia hops down from her rock and starts to follow after them down the mountain. 

“You need help packing that?” Pratt offers, probably because the wolf is nearly the length of her entire body. 

“Nah.” 

“You just feel cool packing the wolf on your back, don’t you?” Hudson is the one to call her out, raising her eyebrow with a soft smirk on her lips, looking entirely too pretty. 

“Uhhh….” 

“God, you’re a dork.” 

“I can’t really argue with that,” Dahlia admits with a red face and shrug of her shoulders, happy to see Pratt and Hudson smiling at her dorkiness. 

“What happened with the hunter you were warning?” Pratt asks after a beat of silence as they keep walking, helping her over a craggy step with a hand on her hip to keep her steady as the weight of the wolf limits her movements.  

“Uh, asshole just patronized me and left. I don’t know why I still talk to him, he’s always a dick,” she says, rolling her eyes when she thinks about Jacob calling her a pup. He likes to comment on her being a puppy a lot. 

“Someone you knew?” Hudson asks, offering a hand to help Dahlia get over a large branch in the way of the path. The ease at which the two older deputies silently help her, makes a soft smile pull at Dahlia’s lips. Silently grateful for them as she answers their questions. 

“Jacob Seed.” 

“Seriously?’ 

“What?” 

“You don’t find it a little fuckin’ weird how the Seeds are always around you?” 

“I mean, they’re not around me anymore than anyone else.” 

“They really fucking are; you went to the barbecue, John jumped at the chance to rope you into that.” 

“Churches like new blood, it’s n-“ 

“You’ve apparently talked to Jacob more than once; I didn’t even know he could talk,” Hudson says rolling her eyes, “all he ever does at anyone outside the church is glare.” 

“She’s talked to Faith a lot too, apparently.” 

“I still don’t even know where she fucking came from.” 

“I’m still not fully convinced she isn’t a ghost,” Pratt tells Hudson. 

“She’s not a ghost,” Dahlia says with a roll of her eyes. 

“And you would know, because they cling to you like leeches, right?” 

“Shut up.” 

“You know what I think it is,” Hudson says after a moment, “you put up with Joseph’s creepy ass speeches and they realized you’d put up with anything.” 

“He’s not….that…creepy…” Dahlia says with zero conviction, because, well. He’s definitely off, but despite all the weird little red flags, he did help her and Cassie. So, he can’t be all bad. Even if his brother is taking people’s shit…and well…she still doesn’t know what the hell was up with the shaved head person. 

“You can’t even say that with a straight face.” 

“Look, we’ve had run ins with him before, he’s the weirdest creepiest person in this whole damn county and that is saying something,” Hudson shudders, “I’d take Zip lecturing me on being a government shill for nine hours over Joseph even looking at me for even a second.” 

“His stare is weirdly intense…” 

“All of them are weird; John’s skeevy, Jacob looks like he skins people alive in his spare time…Faith’s kinda cute, but at what cost,” Pratt tells her and eh, Faith’s not really her type. The Church Mouse is pretty, but a bit too delicate for the young deputy to really get those weird stomach feelings she gets around women like Hudson or Mary May. 

“Really, I didn’t think you liked women who are taller than you?” Hudson asks. 

“Faith is like barely taller than me,” Dahlia says with a snort, watching the pure look of offense on Pratt’s face, how could she be taller than Pratt? 

“How short do you think I am, Joey?’ 

“What?” Hudson raises an eyebrow, confused by their confusion, “ heard she was like six foot something with black hair.” 

“She’s like this tall,” Pratt puts his hand maybe two inches above Dahlia’s head, “and blonde.” 

“Kinda blonde,” Dahlia corrects, thinking of the youngest Seed siblings dirty blonde hair that fades to a slightly light color at the ends. It toes the line between brown and blonde fairly well. 

“Whatever.” 

“Someone told me she was taller than John, I know they did, am I losing my mind?” Hudson tries to think for a moment; gears visibly turning behind her green eyes. 

“Did you ever really have it?” Pratt taunts her. 

“Keep it up, asshole, see what fuckin’ happens.” 

The trio makes it down to where the sheriff asked, a parking place within the northern area of the county with little gas pumps but not much else. The F.A.N.G Center employees and the veterinarian with a stethoscope around his neck waiting for them as they make their way over. A worker with the center helps get the stiffening wolf off of Dahlia’s back, putting it into the back of a van so they can take it to be examined. 

“Good work, Deputies,” Whitehorse congratulates them and Dahlia grins at the praise. 

“To be completely fair,” Hudson interjects, “it was Rook who was able to get him.” 

“Hey, we helped…move the body…” Pratt jokes, in their own ways they’re both ensuring Dahlia gets her due credit and she can’t help but smile. 

“Well, outstanding work, Rookie.” 

“Thanks, but uh, I’m kind worried about something.” 

“What’s that?’ The sheriff asks, the attention of him, the veterinarian, and center workers all falling on Dahlia. 

“The wolf has paint on it’s face, like a cross or something…which kinda makes me think someone owned it or…something?’ 

“Yeah, that’s definitely not all blood.” A worker looking over the wolf’s face in the van confirms. 

“There’s nothing else on it, but we definitely will have to keep that in mind.” 

“But, uh, what happens from here?” Dahlia asks. 

“I’ll test to see if it’s rabid or if anything else might be the cause for the aggression,” the veterinarian, his name tag she finally catches says Dr. Charles Lindsay, “I’ll let the hospital know and if needed, the hiker will get treated for rabies.” 

“Ah, uhh, is there any possible way you could let us know at the same time…well let me know…?” 

“Why…?” 

“I may have been slightly bit.” 

“Slightly?” Pratt is the one to yell out, incredulous at Dahlia’s description of her injury. 

“Just a little bit,” She brings two fingers close together in front of her for added effect. 

“Jesus fuck, can you just not get hurt for like a week?” 

“No, clearly not.” 

“Pratt, take her out to the clinic,” Whitehorse says with a heavy sigh and pinching the bridge of his nose. 

“I don’t need a doctor.” 

“Yes, you do. Even if the bite ain’t too bad, you never know if it’s infected. Not only could the wolf be carrying something, but it had someone else’s blood in it’s mouth. This isn’t optional, Rookie, you’re going to the clinic and that’s an order.” 

Dahlia can’t and won’t argue with the sheriff on that. Instead shrinking slightly at the realization that her own disregard for her own safety has gotten her scolded despite her accomplishment. She doesn’t think about risks to herself; she needed the wolf put down to save others and if the worst case scenario is her own well-being being sacrificed, that’s worth it to help others, isn’t it?

“C’mon, Wolf-Bait lets get going,” Pratt says, giving her a light smack on the shoulder to follow him. 

“I’m coming, asshole.” 

She follows behind Pratt, back to the cruiser where they parked at the beginning of this day. The sun has long since set, the moon now bright and high in the sky as she climbs into the passenger side seat. Unable to stop herself from pouting slightly that she’s being forced to go to the clinic again. Even if she understands why. 

“Hey,” Pratt gets her attention as he starts up the cruiser engine, “if it makes you feel any better. I’ll be happy to put you out of your misery if it turns out to be a werewolf.” 

“Fuck you!” She yells out through a laugh; his dumb joke bringing a smile back to her face as they go off to the clinic. 

She’s at the clinic late that night, her injury doesn’t need stitches just some bandaging, some bloodwork and tests done to account for anything that could be wrong. Then she’s sent home with antibiotics; the entire time Pratt making jokes about werewolves and silver bullets like a nerd.  All that’s left is crashing for the night and eventually hearing if she has rabies. 

Dahlia sleeps easily that night; thanks to her adrenaline crashing down. She sleeps in the night morning, Saturday never being such a blissful treat for her as she manages to not wake up until around noon. 

The young deputy takes her time when she gets up, eating cereal and grabbing a shower. Faith mentioned her being able to see Cassie at the convent this weekend spending a day together, so that’s her plan on top of doing the rounds on roping folks into the Apple Festival. 

The Convent isn’t far from the trailer park, two buildings seated before the edge of a cliff with craggy staggered mountain range covered in trees beside it.  So many mountains and cliffs within the county. The larger of the buildings has dark roofing, a smaller white church with white latticing canopies between them. Like the material used to construct a gazebo and fields upon fields of the white moonflowers. 

Before Dahlia can step too far onto the property, a woman with long baby blonde hair with flower tattoos spiraling up her arms and the sin of GREED across her chest runs up to stop her. 

“Hello, is there something I can help you with?” 

“Yeah, I was here to see Cassie.” 

“Oh, I’m so sorry, but our sister Cassandra is busy today.” 

“Sister?” Dahlia asks, blood running cold for a moment. She can’t seriously mean…Cassie wasn’t interested in joining, she just needed shelter.

“Well yes, she’s opened her heart to the Father, a child of Eden’s Gate now.” 

“Interesting…” Dahlia clenches her jaw, “Faith said that I could come see her today.” 

“Well, I’m afraid that’s not possible, she’s been busy with finding salvation. She’s with herald John, giving her confession, she can’t possibly be bothered right now.” 

“I-”

“Deputy~!” Faith’s sing song voice rings out and Dahlia can’t help but still feel angry, they were supposed to help Cassie, not convert her. The youngest Seed sibling rushes over, nearly floating with the ethereal energy only she can manage. Her white floral dress of the day has a halter neckline and flowers are woven into her braided hair. 

“Faith…” 

“I’m so sorry; I heard, I know you were excited to spend time with me and Cassie today, but I’m afraid things just became too busy with her deciding to join us here.” 

“Yeah…what the fuck?” 

“Excuse me?” Faith says, her pretty little smile fading for a moment. 

“Cassie needed shelter, not Jesus, so I reiterate…what the fuck?” Dahlia gestures wildly, anger tinging her words. Her blood pressure rising and heat crawling up under her skin like pins and needles. 

“Cassie is an adult, she made a choice to join us. Surely, you can’t deny her that freedom, deputy?” Faith’s face pulls into a pout, making Dahlia feel unreasonable all at once, but Cassie was never interested in the religion aspect. 

“Yes, she’s an adult, but she was vulnerable, and I don’t think leaping into a religion when you’re in a shitty place is the best move. I-I wanna talk to her myself.” 

“Well, I’m afraid that can’t happen, not today. But, maybe next weekend or you could write a letter of course.” 

“She still hasn’t responded to my last letter…” 

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Faith puts a hand on Dahlia’s shoulder, meant to be comforting but the deputy flinches away, “as I said, it’s been impossibly busy, she’s been studying our beliefs and methods of joining. It’s a long process at times, very time consuming, but I assure you…Cassie opening her heart to the Father doesn’t mean it’s been closed to you.” 

“Yeah, sure, just too busy.” 

“Well, you’ve certainly been busy too, haven’t you?” She tilts her head delicately to the side, still smiling. 

“I have?” Dahlia raises an eyebrow. 

“Mmm hmm, John’s already learned of you helping put together an apple festival.” 

“Oh, yeah, Debbie and Doug wanna save that place so why not, I figure.” 

“Yes, we’ve been hearing all about it, John’s not exactly thrilled.” 

“Nothing personal to it…” 

“I figured, I’m not upset, I promise,” Faith offers a soft smile, “the orchard will end up in the rightful hands no matter what. John just worries a lot about getting land for our church, after all we’re growing by the day and need space for our people.” 

“And Debbie and Doug worry a lot about keeping their livelihood, ya know?” 

“Like, I said, I have no ill will over it, I’m just interested to see you’re so full of surprises.” 

“I am?” 

“Mmm hmm,” she giggles, but offers no more information, like she knows a secret that Dahlia doesn’t. But before Dahlia can ask another question, a sight among the convent makes her breath catch in her throat. 

Shaved head men and women; tending to fields of those flowers, masks across their face. So, they’re definitely with Eden’s Gate as if she really had to question. They work silently, tending to the fields of moonflowers in their white sweaters. 

“Who are they?” Dahlia asks, giving Faith a pointed look. The girl’s eyes move back and forth from the deputy to the workers. 

“Oh, those are our angels,” she answers, grinning, “they’re high ranking members of our church, so devoted to The Father they’ve taken vows of silence and dedicate their lives to helping The Project. Amazing, aren’t they?” 

“Vows of silence, huh?” Dahlia says, more to herself than Faith. Then why did they mumble lyrics and scream out…why would they attack Dahlia? Is Faith lying to her, she’s got to be, right?

“You know, deputy, if you’re so interested in The Project, The Father would still happily let you join our family.” 

“Hmmm, I’m sure, didn’t realize there was a huge process to it though…” Dahlia comments, hoping Faith will elaborate, what the hell kind of hoops did Cassie jump through? Confession, is all she really knows. 

“Well, “ Faith grabs both of Dahlia’s hands in her own, smiling, “we ask for our new family members to prove they see the truth of our faith, to prove their dedication, rid themselves of their sins and make sacrifices in order to truly cut their ties with sin.” 

“That’s-“ 

“Faith, there’s a call from the conservatory!” Someone calls out and Dahlia’s words die on her lips; the notion that Faith’s description is vague and generally unhelpful. 

“I’ll be right there, see you later deputy, hopefully we can meet with Cassie next weekend.” Faith waves her goodbye and then leaves. 

Stray straightens her jacket before leaving the convent, a flood of unanswered questions and doubts in her mind. Everyday something new worries her about Eden’s Gate. If Faith’s lying…that’s fucking bullshit. She doesn’t want to imagine that Faith would lie to her face like that. But, why would their oh so special angels, even the name makes her roll her eyes, be screaming and murmuring despite vows of silences? Why would they attack her?

The rest of her Saturday is spent speaking to people about the Apple Festival, roping Chad from the Grill Steak into it. At least, she believes she did, she’s not completely sure of anything he says. His dialect unintelligible, so she just upped her cajun dialect until she barely knew what she was saying either. Its good busy work, getting places to hang up advertisements, though her heart and mind are somewhere else the entire time. She’s thankful that most people are just genuinely invested in helping; because she certainly isn’t getting by on her charisma. 

Her night is spent with trying to distract herself, but thoughts always coming back to the weirdness of Eden’s Gate, to her doubts. Wondering what exactly led to Cassie’s conversion… She’s being silly, she tells herself time and time again, but something just doesn’t feel right lately. Maybe she’s overeating; seeing connections and red flags where none exists. But, the case remains that no tv, manga, music, or drawing can distract her that night. 

There’s still a slight cloud looming over Dahlia when she arrives at the orchard Sunday, ready to taste Debbie’s baked apple goods. The sun is high in sky and the smell of apples lifts her mood slightly; but she finds herself still distracted as she parks her bike. 

“Deputy!” Debbie greets her and Dahlia gives the warmest smile she can muster. The older woman’s smile helping lift some of that cloud. 

“Hey.” 

“Staci’s already here, c’mon, we’ll sit in the market stall,” Debbie gushes bring Dahlia over to the picnic tables that are under the covering; where they first talked about the festival. 

Pratt is already there; the smell of baked sugar and apples hits Dahlia’s nose before she even sees the array of food Debbie’s put out. Apple pie, apple dumplings, apple scones, and she’s sure that’s just the beginning. 

“Hey dumbass,” Pratt greets her around a mouthful of apple pie as she sits down next to him. 

“You couldn’t wait like five minutes?” 

“Nope.” 

“Ass.” 

The deputy’s feedback is predominantly noises of happiness; neither really food critics but happy to be shoving it in their mouths. The gloomy cloud is starting to lift by the time they’ve finished off a pie; cinnamon, sugar, and apples warm on her tongue. Apple dumplings settle warm in her stomach and she forgets why she was ever upset. The scones are munched down next; cream sticking to her fingers and lips as she eats. 

“God you’re a mess,” Pratt taunts and she sputters a laugh when she turns to face him. 

“You have food in your beard, asshole.” 

“Fuck,” he curses under his breath and starts wiping at his face. 

The stuff their faces for a long while longer; strudel, apple cake, apple cobbler, candy apples, and fritters. Pratt leans back from the table, pressing a hand to his face after a while. 

“You alright?” Dahlia asks, raising her eyebrow. 

“Debbie is gonna have to roll me out of here at this rate; are you not fuckin’ full yet?” 

“…No…” She pauses, before shoving more cobbler and whip cream in her mouth. Debbie and Dough are off rushing to get more goodies. 

“Jesus fuck, Rook.” 

“You’re just a baby.” 

“Shut up,” he leans back away from the table and runs a hand back into his hair, “hey, Rook?” 

“Hmm?”

“You ever gonna shoot your shot with Joey?” 

“What?!” She chokes on her food, just barely stopping it from flying out of her mouth, where the actual fuck did that come from? 

“Your little crush on her, you ever gonna do something about it?” 

“Like what?” 

“Ask her out, you know, like people do.” 

“Yeah…why the fuck would I do that?” She cannot grasp his logic here. 

“I don’t know how to explain to you that when people have crushes; they ask the person out.” 

“I don’t know how to explain to you that that would be really fucking stupid.” 

“Why?” 

“Because I already know the answer, there’s no way she’d say yes, and frankly if she did I’d be concerned.”

“Concerned?” 

“Yeah, who in their right fuckin’ mind would say yes to me?!” 

“So, you wanna act weird around her forever and never deal with it?” 

“That was the plan.” 

“I’m just saying the sooner you rip the band-aid off, the quicker you can act like a normal person around her.” 

Dahlia sighs, she doesn’t want to act like a freak around Hudson for the rest of her life or for her little crush or whatever to get the way of life. Pratt knows more about this crap than her, because everyone does. So, if he’s saying this would help, maybe it would? But, her brain still is struggling. 

“But I already know she’s gonna say no, you know she’s gonna say no, literally anyone with a functioning braincell knows she’d say no. So, why would hearing her say no make a difference?” 

“Its like closure and shit; I think it’d help.” 

“Ugh, just sounds like an excuse to make an idiot out of myself.” 

“Compared to the genius you usually are?” 

“Fuck off.” 

She swallows down a mouthful of strudel before the conversation can continue, but Pratt’s words stick with her. It’s not as if she needed any more on her mind, but she got it anyway. The two continue taste testing for Debbie, though the subject of Hudson never comes up. She’s not sure why Pratt is suddenly so keen on helping her work through her little crush, a friendly gesture, she figures. Maybe her life would be a little easier if she could stop turning into a red-faced mess around the oldest deputy. 

It’s late when they finally finish tasting everything; Dahlia giving friendly goodbyes to Pratt and the couple before she goes back home. Her weekend coming to a close with her falling asleep with a stomach full of baked apples. 

She’s woken up to her phone ringing; instead of her alarm. Dahlia already knows well that despite shift hours, the nature of their work and the higher level of being deputy means that being called out at odd hours is expected. But her blood runs cold when she sees sheriff Whitehorse is the one calling, something is wrong. 

“Sheriff?” She answers, sitting up on the couch. 

“Rook; I already called Pratt and Hudson, I want you all at the clinic now! It’s an emergency!” 

And that’s all she gets before the call ends. She throws on a uniform and runs out the door, jumping on her motorcycle. Mind racing with each passing second. The hurried and frantic tone in Whitehorse’s voice flaring anxiety inside of her. A million possibilities shooting through her mind as she rides towards the clinic; is it about the wolf? Has there been a murder? Is someone she knows hurt? Could it be an officer? 

She’s practically tripping over herself as she climbs off her bike, running into the clinic. The staff is a mess, nurses rushing frantically to attend to someone. Words of transferring, stabilizing, blood transfusion. Something is wrong. Each word swims around her head, but she doesn’t know who they’re talking about. Then she sees Whitehorse, Hudson, and Pratt at the front desk. The three living closer than her. 

“What’s wrong?” Dahlia asks running over; all three’s expressions are tense. Pratt shaking his leg, Hudson digging her nails into her arms until her knuckles turn white, and Whitehorse looking a moment away from collapsing. 

“It’s Pastor Jerome,” Whitehorse tells her, “someone attacked him.” 

“Left for fucking dead,” Hudson interjects, a crack in her voice that Dahlia’s never heard before. 

“They’re trying to stabilize him long enough to transfer him to a hospital in Missoula. We need to make sure it stays secure, no telling if whoever did this won’t try to do something again, and we need to be there to ask questions once he’s out of the woods. I don’t want this slipping through the cracks, Jerome’s a good man and he damn well deserves our best effort.” 

“Got it,” Dahlia nods in agreement to the sheriffs words.

Images of the man in the priest collar coming to mind. She’s seen him in passing, never a conversation between the two. But she saw him speak with Whitehorse; Pratt implied that both him and Hudson went to Jerome’s church as kids. He means something to them all and that’s clear in just how serious it’s being taken; obvious in how shaken up they all seem to be. 

She stands next to Pratt, squeezing his shoulder in an attempt to comfort, wishing she could offer more. He tries to give her a small smile, but it doesn’t reach his eyes, too worried about the pastor. 

Why would anyone attack him? His church is modest, nearly dying out from everything she’s been told, it wouldn’t make sense to rob him. Hope County has some less than accepting residents; but the idea of a potential hate crime is a hard pill to swallow…

All Dahlia can do is wait with her coworkers, listening to the frantic yells of nurses struggling to save a man’s life. Heart in her throat, anxiety telling her that any second this will become a murder investigation as she watches the hands on a clock ticking away…

#far cry 5 #fc5 #jacob seed #staci pratt #faith seed #uhhh they're the most prevalent this chapter

[floraisann]

ateez reaction: filming an asmr video with an asmrtist s/o

➣ requested? X

➣ genre: fluff(prolly not but we’ll go w it), humor

➣ masterlist

A/N: yeah this was made entirely bc i was thinking about seonghwa getting scared over the fact that he made a nice sound in his one asmr vid so,,,, yeah. enjoy! :)

❅♩♬♩❅――

❥ kim hongjoong

was iffy about the idea until he realized hey, the two of you could still make music, just much quieter

you’d probably film like,,,, asmr songwriting,,,,, where it’s just you two working silently on a song

in the beginning it’s really quiet, but you do get some sexy pencil/keyboard sounds 🥰💕

once he gets into the groove of things he’s very calm and focused, and that relaxing vibe transfers into the video

tries to do actual asmr triggers, but everything gains rhythm and before you know it heyyy this a pretty sick beat 😳

the song he ends up writing uses only asmr triggers for the instrumental along with very soft vocals, and bc this man lives and breathes music ITS A WHOLE BOP

10/10 content. would nap to again

❥ park seonghwa

could not find gifs of his asmr video smh but anyways seonghwa, we know ur hot already, we get it. pls calm down

kq sir where’s the seonghwa asmr series the people don’t just want it, the people NEED it

was ready for this since before he exited the womb

since this man is already a whole asmrtist you’d film something like that “asmr friend tries giving me tingles” video 

very excited by the expensive mic

“is this how you do it” except he really doesn’t have any reason to ask you, he already knows what he’s doing

gets REALLY shook whenever he makes a god sound

like remember the plastic wrap/facial mist moment he had in his own vid?? that x10

the video you post with him ends up your most viewed. not because of the emotional support kpop boy you got on the video, no it’s the extreme quality 

❥ jeong yunho

you guys would probably film SOMETHING with talking, maybe one of the asmr interviews w magazine does

except there’s a real asmrtist asking questions and a kpop boy to answer

REALLY good at soft spoken asmr. like the low rumble in his voice!?! mmm. 23/10 would tingle again

probably really good in general. like even if he doesn’t watch asmr normally will probably watch a number of videos before filming to make editing easier on you so the video is actually VERY GOOD

honestly he probably makes the best sounds in the video and you’re just like :o

“jeong yunho, where’d you learn how to do that” “👀 the nice russian lady on youtube”

overall a very relaxing experience

he’d probably end up filming w you again because of how smoothly it goes

well done jeong yunho

❥ kang yeosang

does not have the slightest clue what the fuck he’s doing but he’s already quiet and gentle so you wouldn’t be able to tell

the very definition of fake it til you make it!

anyways you’d also probably have to film a semi-crackhead video with him to keep him engaged

yk the crush on 9 fast tapping relay thing w his 3 friends? i imagine that but w yeosang

maybe not the same exact concept, but like you’d definitely make something with the same relaxed “just playing around w my friends :)” energy

that being said yeosang is a package deal. if you have yeosang, at least one other member will make an appearance

but he’ll make sure it’s at least not the chaos lord wooyoung

idk his humor’s kind of underrated but it would definitely show in smth like that

like he’d actually produce good content, but his bloopers would be so funny that you can’t remove them, you just quiet them

the people would want him back anyways so he’d get better with time

10/10 recommend this mans as an asmrtist kq where’s the ateez asmr-

❥ choi san

i was looking for a certain gif of him from the woosan tingle interview and i was unsuccessful but you know what? this is just as good if not better because SAN

a lil too psyched for this relaxation joint but issokay, he cute

y’all probably make some type of ear cleaning video bc remember how excited he was when they gave him the earpick 🥺 

very focused on sound quality

squeaks whenever he makes a somewhat unpleasant sound

gets shiber into the video as an object to make triggers with

probably gets tingles somewhere along the way and just giggles to himself. it’s a little loud but please don’t edit it out

can and will recite ateez intros/outros. like he’ll just be vibing petting shiber then suddenly he’s leaning into the mic and just

“the freezing winds may make us-” he starts shaking shiber to emphasize his point “-shiverrr”

and what can you do but smile when all that separates you from the only man ever is a binaural mic?

one of the members whose end video is actually super high quality

❥ song mingi

clueless. there are three question marks floating above his head at all times

like he’s actually trying, he’s just big and loud

follows you around like a lost puppy

tries VERY hard to copy whatever you do and it’s VERY cute

phases in and out of whispering but completely on accident, he’s lost

like yunho, actually has a nice soft speaking voice once he figures that shit out

cute smile when he’s actually producing good content

honestly tho for mingi to stay engaged you might have to play some sort of game 

the video would probably be one of those “guess the trigger” games

like the one co9 made w his one friend? yeah that

mingi would end up with the chicken toy though

you’d have a lot of bloopers bc he either hits something/talks too loud/laughs but it’s okay, we stan song mingi!! and you know he wasn’t nearly as bad as a certain sagi groupmate he has!!!!

❥ jeong wooyoung

my good nctzens, my fellow grass, you know the jsmr jeno filmed w jaemin that absolutely went to shit? that’s what you’re filming with wooyoung. 

he’s jaemin, obviously

you’re probably gonna film some type of cooking asmr so he’s not BREATHING DIRECTLY INTO THE MIC

PLEASE don’t bring the electric mixer PLEASE make him whisk the batter like a “real man”

you probably get a shot somewhere along the way of him tossing an ingredient wrapper into the stratosphere or several

will lean into the mic to bring up a random tmi he remembered, all while breathing VERY heavily “ATINY DO YOU WANNA HEAR MY YOSHI IMPRESSION”

when he does that too he probably phases in and out of whispering in his excitement. your ears? wasted. 

probably whisper yells too

the video ends up really short because wooyoung is too chaotic for this type of thing. record a normal cooking video with him next time, please.

❥ choi jongho

actually relaxed, even gets the art of not breathing at the mic down very quickly and picks up filming tricks along the way

but since he’s still part of the chaos line you’d film something like the gibi/marno/goodnight moon collabs.

50% asmr misc. roleplay, 50% comedy film

an apple would make its way into the video YES he’ll break it

but far enough from the the mic that it doesn’t break you ears

and mr jongho is the master of keeping a straight face. the one pulling the stupid shit would be both of you, but ALL your noise cuts would be because YOU laughed, not him

maybe if you two had a brain this would’ve been the most successful endeavor but nope y’all take “no thoughts, head empty” way too seriously for that to happen

anyways stan choi jongho, aka my fav grocery store

❅♩♬♩❅――

#ateez #atinyforatiny #ateez reactions #ateez scenarios #ateez imagines #ateez headcanons #ateez writing #ateez fluff #ateez humor #ateez hongjoong #ateez seongjoong #ateez yunho #ateez yeosang #ateez san #ateez mingi #ateez wooyoung #ateez jongho #perhaps i clowned wooyoung a lil too hard #eh #love u wooyoung

[wherefunsurvives]

The Ultimate College COVID Packing List

Okay kids, you’ve seen the post about packing light for college, so here’s some specifics for all of you incoming freshmen or returning students who will be living on campus! This is NOT the year to bring extra furniture, decorations, etc. This is the year to pack light and be ready to get on out of there at a moment’s notice if you have to. i proudly present to you -

“What to bring and what not to bring when going to college in a global pandemic!!!”

STORAGE

i used to swear by my camp trunk when i packed for school and while a trunk can be useful because it has more space inside it’s going to be harder to take on a plane or bus. If you go for a trunk, make sure its combined dimensions (length+width+height) are 62 inches or less (the size requirement for checked luggage). The ideal size would probably be a 32x17x13 inch trunk.

Instead of trunks or big containers, go for a combination of suitcases and duffle bags. Your goal should be to minimize luggage - you want be able to carry everything through an airport without any help. So let’s say in theory at MOST you should have a combination that looks something like:

2 checked suitcases + 1 checked duffle + 1 carryon duffle + one personal item backpack

1 checked suitcase + 1 checked duffle + 1 carryon suitcase + one personal item backpack

1 checked suitcase + 1 carryon suitcase + 1 personal item duffle

Get creative, mix and match, calculate the costs for each combination, which will vary depending on if you’re flying, taking a bus, driving, or taking a train. 

Checked and carryon luggage should ideally have 4 spinner wheels and a handle, this will make it easier to move all by yourself. Put your duffles around the handles of the luggage so you can carry everything yourself with minimal effort. If you have checked luggage and carryon luggage, consider a bag connector like this one! You can find surprisingly decent luggage at Costco and from Travelpro, which is designed for pilots and flight attendants but has massive markdowns all the time. 

A good duffle should be spacious with multiple compartments or pockets. If you’re an experienced camper or backpacker, maybe use those types of bags! If you’re not, get something that’s 40 liters of space or more. i bought this 50L duffle for $30 and it’s absolutely absurd the amount of stuff i can fit in it.Leave all other storage options at home. 

Don’t bring your own desk, drawers, furniture etc. Use only the furniture provided by the dorm. Don’t even bring a laundry hamper! Get a fabric laundry bag that you can easily fold. 

LEARN HOW TO PACK EFFICIENTLY. Choose your fighter, the army rolling method or the KonMari folding method (Marie Kondo also has a great video on how to organize what you pack and choose only what you need). This will allow you to bring the amount of clothes you need while taking up minimal space. Speaking of which -

CLOTHING

Your goal is to minimize both items and travel (meaning you shouldn’t plan as if you’re going to travel home every break to swap out clothes). Now is a great time to learn how to build a capsule wardrobe of basic items that can be mixed and matched. Keep it simple. Obviously if you’re in a warmer climate, this will be easier. For colleges with seasons, i’d say aim for 2 pairs of jeans or trousers you like, 1 pair of dress pants, and 1-2 pairs of leggings/joggers/comfortable pants. 1 pair of shorts, no more than 2 skirts, no more than 3 dresses (1 nicer, 1 more casual and comfortable). 10-12 shirts or less (include a variety of tanks, tee shirts, long sleeves, button downs, sweaters, etc.) and 3-5 “layers” like a blazer, cardigan, hoodie, etc. 2 pairs of pajamas, one for warmer weather and one for cooler weather. One raincoat, one fall/spring midweight jacket, one good winter coat - if you’re in Chicago, NYC, etc. invest in a warm parka, and i don’t mean Canada Goose. Just something sturdy that will keep you warm.

You’re going to repeat outfits. That’s fine. You’re not going anywhere important and you’ll be spending a lot of time in your room online. Being able to get out is more important than looking cute.

Pack an appropriate amount of underwear, socks, bras, etc. Bring a hat or two, one for sun and a thick beanie for the cold. Bring one tie and one pair of snow gloves if you need either. Bring a scarf or two for cold climates (they can be an extra layer of protection over a mask). If you wear jewelry, choose up to 10 items you really want and put them in a bag or a small portable jewelry box.

You only need 4 pairs of shoes maximum - one pair of sneakers/gym shoes that you could easily walk two miles in. One pair of of easy slip-on slip-off shoes for going to get mail or do laundry (because you don’t want to walk the dorms barefoot these days) and bonus points if they can double as comfortable ‘nice’ shoes such as cheap loafers, TOMS, basic flats, etc. One flip flops or sandals if you’ll be using communal showers and bathrooms. And one pair of boots that can double as rainboots AND snowboots (duckboots are great for this!) You don’t need heels, wedges, or multiple pairs/styles of shoes for the same reason you don’t need multiple dresses or a full tuxedo - you’re not going anywhere this year! Or at least you shouldn’t! Parties, formals, conferences, etc. are all a terrible idea unless you want COVID-19.

What you should have multiples of are masks and gloves! Have a few reusable face masks you can wash (RedBubble has them in every style, almost every clothing brand sells them, and VogMask/Camridge Mask are great options for something a little more heavy duty). Invest in disposable gloves and one pair of reusable gloves such as dish gloves. Some basic eye protection doesn’t hurt either - i love blue light glasses because they provide some coverage while also being great for reducing eye strain during all your Zoom calls!

SUPPLIES

Keep it basic, and that means you too studyblr kids! You don’t want supplies to take up all your space. Buy a spacious pencil case. Buy a basic back of black Bic pens and put 10-15 in. Those things last forever. Put in 5 presharpened pencils and 5 unsharpened pencils. Bring a pencil sharpener, 1 pink eraser, and 10 eraser toppers. The eraser always runs out before the pencil does. Pack 1-2 glue-sticks, 1 pair of good scissors. Fill the rest of it with your non-essential favorites like mildliners, highlighters, felt tip pens, markers etc. But no more than what can fit in the case. And nothing too expensive, just in case you can’t bring it with you.

Small multi-subject notebooks y’all!! Just get one or two. You never use as many pages as you think you will in your notebooks and multiple full size notebooks are a pain to carry and pack. For my last two years of college i would buy 1 or 2 Five Star 5x7 inch notebooks with 5 subjects for each term. They came with pocket folders inside and i never once used all the pages. i’d often re-use at least one from last term into the next term. It also means you never have to run back for a notebook if you’re at the library and want to do homework for that other class because all your notes for all your classes are right there!!

Bring 2 rolls of scotch tape and 1 roll of masking tape in case you need to repair anything. Pack any essential medication you take, a first aid kit with bandaids, wipes, tweezers, etc. Pack 1 small bottle each of ibuprofen, Tylenol or acetaminophen, any multi-vitamin you prefer, and a vitamin C supplement to help keep your immune system strong.

1 pack of pads/tampons. You can buy more when you get to school, save the space for packing.

1 reusable water bottle. Buy plastic ones periodically/accept reusable free ones given to you at school that you can take if you need to go to the doctor/hospital/etc. so you can throw them away if needed afterwards. 1 mug, if you use one. Make it one you’re willing to leave behind if you must.

1 small set of non-breakable plates/bowls and utensils. i like the Ikea KALAS ones because they’re plastic but can be microwaved or put in the dishwasher. And it’s $2 for a set of 6. 1 small set of tupperware - again IKEA has some good cheap options - that is also microwave safe. You’ll want these solely in the event it’s unsafe to eat in the dining halls. This will let you bring food back to your room and eat, save leftovers from the dining hall or takeout orders, etc. Buy a small bottle of dish soap when you get to school to be able to wash your dishes.

If you use liquid detergent, wait to buy until you’re at school. It takes up more space. If you use detergent pods, choose your own adventure. Buy your shampoo and conditioner at school if you can, same with soap. Same thing with toilet paper, paper towels, and so on. Buy it there, be prepared to leave it behind. Do bring hand sanitizer with you though. Keep a small size in your personal item for your travels and always keep some in your bag at school.

2 disposable toothbrushes, 1-2 tubes toothpaste, 2 toothbrush travel cases. Store the toothbrush you’re using in a travel case while at school to try to prevent contamination. If you become sick, throw your toothbrush away once you’re feeling better and thoroughly wash your travel case. Buy new disposable toothbrushes as needed once at school.

A small wallet or zip ID case with a lanyard. Make sure you can fit your state ID/driver’s license, student ID, transit card, insurance card, credit/debit card, and a little cash in it with ease. One with a clear window is great because you can put your student ID in it to easily show it when required without needing to open your wallet up. A lanyard makes it harder to lose and lets you put your keys on it if you have a physical dorm key.

Your phone charger, with a wall plug. And a mobile charger of some kind (many schools give them away at some point during your first few weeks, orientation, etc. TAKE THEM). You don’t need an Apple branded one, you can find sturdy and cheap ones at Target, etc. You’ll want these in case you get stranded anywhere. And you’ll especially want these because if you need to go to the ER/doctor, you never want to let your phone die while you’re there.

1 cheap tote bag or small backpack or knapsack, etc. that you’re not too attached to. This will be your hospital go-bag. Keep a mini-notebook with your name/birthdate, emergency contact information, relevant medical information, etc. written in it in the event you cannot communicate this yourself. Keep one packed and ready. Other helpful things to have in this bag once you’re at school are a pair of shorts, a t-shirt and underwear; a granola bar, and a disposable water bottle.

1 pair of cheap but reliable headphones, ideally with a microphone. In-ear headphones take up less space than over-ear headphones. These will be great if you’re on a Zoom call or something and don’t want to be heard by your neighbors. Also great for listening to music or podcasts in the event you’re at the doctor/hospital, because just like you never want to forget a phone charger, you never want to be without something to listen to while you wait for a few hours.

DORM STUFF

Now is NOT the time to decorate your dorm. i’m sorry, i love a good Pinterest dorm board and DIY project as much as anyone else. My dorm had a whole aesthetic. It was great. But it was a nightmare to pack up when COVID hit.

All you really need is a duvet/comforter, 1 set of sheets (ideally dark color so they won’t stain, just make sure you wash them regularly), and 1 pillow.

If you want stuff on your walls, don’t bring anything. When you get to school, you’ll likely get some free swag like a college pennant you can put up. Or at the least you’ll get a bunch of papers and maps and things. Hang up the maps. Make them look cool. Draw or do calligraphy on the blank sides of the papers for DIY art and signs. Order a wall calendar with fun art or images on it. Go to Walgreen’s website and use their photo system to order a bunch of photo prints. They almost always have a discount offer happening which makes it super cheap. You can upload photos of your friends and family to surround yourself with nice memories, or upload pictures of art, landscapes, quotes, images you found on Pinterest, your celebrity crush, and literally anything else. Voila, wall decorations.

The key here is to never put up too many things. Everything you put up should be able to be taken down in 15 minutes or less and without any help.

If you really really want some decoration - buy a cheap thing of string lights from Target or something to put up. They add ambiance without much effort and don’t take up too much space. If your room is freezing with concrete floors, a small rug can help if you really think you need one. But - and you already know what i’m gonna say - BUY THEM THERE AND BE READY TO LEAVE THEM BEHIND.

No chairs. No hammocks. No lamps. No furniture. No bulletin boards. No extra bookshelves. Keep it as simple as possible.

The caveat is to bring one small grounding item from home. Maybe it’s a souvenir from a vacation you took. A mug your mom got you. A framed photo of your best friends. Choose one, and make sure it is small.

BOOKS, ETC.

Buy your class books once you get there, either from the campus bookstore, a local bookstore, ThriftBooks, Amazon (if you really must), etc. Or download them online ;) Either way, they’ll take up space while going to school so just get them later unless you have to do reading in advance.

As a book lover it pains me to say this but leave your books at home. Bring at most 4 books with you to school. i’d recommend at least one you haven’t read yet and at least one that’s a “comfort” book you like to reread. Books are one of the hardest things to move and you won’t have that much free time anyways.

Pick one hobby to pack for, and keep it basic. If you like drawing, make it 1 small sketchbook and a mini-pack of colored pencils, markers, watercolors, or crayons. If it’s photography, make it 1 single camera with 1 lens. If you like gaming, bring something small like a Switch lite. If you need a hobby to keep you busy inside, grab yourself a pair of wooden/bamboo knitting needles or a crochet hook, 1 ball of yarn, and go wild. The bottom line is only what you absolutely have to have to not lose your mind.

Have 1 large (32 GB or more) flash drive or SD card to back up your files from your laptop or tablet onto. This will be a huge help in the event something happens to your computer.

Finally, always have a plan with friends/family in the event you need to evacuate. How will you decide if you need to leave? How will you get home/to a safe place? Who will help you get there? How will you afford it? And so on.

Feel free to add anything tips that might be useful!

#college #university #studyblr #uchicago #university of chicago #covid #coronavirus #covid-19 #covid19 #packing #college packing

[resetmypatientviolence]

Control (Drake x MC) [M]

Pairing:  Drake x Jaela

Word Count: 8,178

Rating: M

Warnings: Language, Sex

Song Accompaniment: Motivation-- Normani

Description: With weeks of meetings and morning sickness with the royal heir, it’s been a while since Jaela and Drake have had time as a couple. But when their schedules line up and Jaela hopes this little heir can stay calm for a moment... it’s time to show Drake whose in control. 

Author Note: Happy Thirsty Thursday and FINALLY some goddman new material from me. I hope y’all like it! Nothing too crazy, but Drake likes those handcuffs....

Ko-Fi: https://ko-fi.com/drakewalkerwhippedMasterlist is found on my blog bio.

“You know,” Drake says, leaning on the bathroom doorframe while Jaela brushes her teeth after the latest bout of morning sickness. She turns, surveying him with a raised eyebrow. “This is the first day that… our schedules actually line up, Abdi.”

There’s something… silky smooth and husky to his voice all at once, making her stomach turn. Not from the royal heir… but… his meaning isn’t lost on her. Jaela turns, spits out the toothpaste and rinses her mouth, Drake coming behind her. His calloused—still—hands come to her hips, fingers slipping under the bottom of tank-top on her so hot skin. It sends shivers down her spine, and even more so when his hips press flush to hers, his excitement at what could happen evident.

But, Jaela glances at her watch. They’ll be late. Yet… she meets his eyes in the mirror, a smirk on her lips. “We’re going to be late, Drake.”

“I know,” he chuckles, lips ghosting across her skin, sending a trail of fire wherever they offer the lightest of touches. He brings her hips back and she grinds her ass against him, biting her lower lip. The familiar—and much missed—heat flares low in her abdomen, warm and tempting, fire in Drake’s eyes. “Why not a little bit of some--”

But, he’s cut off, Jaela breaking free from his sensual hold to kneel over the toilet, the wave of nausea striking her faster than a bolt of lightning. Drake holds back her hair and rubs her back, murmuring quietly to her, the deep longing and need for her body gone. Instead, it’s the comforting, kind, and so very patient father to be that Jaela’s grown accustomed to over the past thirteen weeks.

Nothing really comes up, but Jaela groans, head in hands when its passed, allowing her to breathe for a moment. “So… that kinda killed the moment….”

Drake kneels himself and chuckles, wrapping his arms around her body, hands resting on the stomach that’s just starting to grow. “Well… maybe not right now but…” He kisses her cheek and Jaela giggles at the way his stubble feels against her. “We have meetings together… you don’t have any late-night ones… I don’t….”

“And I don’t have to even have to face another day of the paps trying to get a picture of me and see if there’s a bump…”

Drake smiles, nuzzling her, hands tightening around the small bump that’s formed. Easy enough to hide when she doesn’t want to deal with the press yelling at her to see the evidence of her pregnancy, or to turn on the news and hear the speculation over her latest outfit and what it shows or doesn’t. No public engagements today. “Who would have thought we’d be so busy. You’d think we’d always be together, being the parents of the royal heir…”

Jaela laughs, hands falling over his. Together, they squeeze. “Mm… well, right now I don’t have to waddle around and can do everything. I’m sure once I start showing… we’ll have to be together and put on those smiling faces. But for now… we’re just busy… and I can’t stop puking…”

“But…” His hand slides down… down… every second feeling like an eternity, his trail blazing—then bursting into a ball of warmth when two fingers press over her clit, the fabric between feeling like nothing as he circles, slowly. She gasps, voice caught in her throat. It’s been far too long. “Tonight… we actually have time to spend together, Abdi.”

She’s about to tell him to wait, stay—they have time, they can be late—but he kisses her cheek and stands, stretching, leaving her panting. “You—”

“Like you said… we’ll be late,” he says with a wink, stepping out of the bathroom. “Besides,” he adds, popping his head in the doorway, Jaela glaring at him now that the waves and tease of pleasure subsided—but only in the slightest. “Didn’t you say we have some meetings together? Should be fun.”

The wink he offers and his grin tells Jaela all she needs to know, the familiar warmth and ideas of sneaking away running through her head. “Fine…” she finally says, getting up on shaky legs. “I’m holding you to that promise, Walker. And no using fucking me in a closet as an excuse to not make tonight happen in our bed. You better not be rusty.”

Drake laughs, putting on a shirt. “Do you have that little faith in me, Abdi? Do you really think I’d refuse to make love to my wife as many times as I can in a day? Bush league.”

Jaela rolls her eyes, waving him away, and goes back to the sink to brush her teeth… again.

Yet, as she brushes, there’s a sparkle in her eye—and a burning desire coursing throughout her veins, ready for the day—and night—to come. After all, it’s been weeks due to their schedules, the fact that she certainly didn’t want Drake to even think of touching her with how shitty she’s felt… and well, their little royal heir certainly isn’t making the times she wants to make love easy with well-placed waves of nausea, leaving Drake to handle himself.

That said, when Jaela gets dressed, she makes sure she highlights her breasts just right in her top.

*

Yes, she’s the Champion of the Realm and the head of the Royal Council… but god, if Jaela has to hear Godfrey drone on for another minute about taxation of apples, she’s about to fall asleep and not be sorry for it one bit. She blinks slowly, hand in chin, seeing two of him.

“If we propose a two-cent tax increase on our apple exports….”

Godfrey’s voice fades away… but not because she’s asleep. No, this is much better.

Drake’s hand falls on her thigh, squeezing it. Godfrey’s words disappear, Jaela electrified by Drake’s touch. Out of the corner of her eye, she notes his smirk, the quiet laughter contained in a single breath. He draws his finger along the edge of her pencil skirt, slipping the tip of his finger under it, shocks doing laps throughout her body.

After another few seconds, Drake pushes up her skirt—just a bit—fingers brushing against her inner thigh. He’s far from his goal, but it’s enough to make her jump in her seat, thighs untouched like that for so long. For a second, Godfrey’s eyes linger on her, but then he continues talking about apple exports—but she doesn’t hear a word, Drake’s hand moving higher, offering her thigh a squeeze and brush of his fingers, making a perfect circle with each deliberate motion.

Jaela bites her lower lip, looking ahead. Hana offers an eyebrow quirk, glancing between the two of them, understanding in her expression. Jaela’s face warms (though, this certainly… isn’t the first time they’ve played this game), and she tries to reign in her excitement, hands clasped together, shooting Drake a warning look.

Yet, he only smirks more. Of course he wouldn’t stop. She knew this. It would pointless, really. Well, she tried. Jaela tightens her jaw, trying to keep the sounds of anticipation for pleasure under wraps, letting Godfrey drone on, clearly the only one passionate about this subject.

Drake’s damning and tantalizing hand moves higher… higher… so damn close to where she’s the warmest, warm radiating out from her, the coil within her tightening further in on itself, ready to burst at the lightest touch from him. She gulps, hard as Drake’s hand pauses, warm against her inner thigh. His face is stone-cold, looking intently at Godfrey, but Jaela notes the slight pink flush to his cheeks that betray him in the slightest.

She snaps her attention back to Godfrey—good god she doesn’t ever want to think of him while she’s this worked up, but Drake forced her hand—and Drake lifts his fingers, ready to find their long-awaited purchase, black thong on for a reason—

“Oh--!” Jaela covers her mouth, but it’s too late.

“Yes, Duchess?” Godfrey asks, eyebrow raised, looking her up and down. “Is there something you’d like to add?”

What? She couldn’t help herself at the tiniest of touches Drake offered. It’s been a rough first trimester. She shakes her head and slowly lowers her hand. Drake removes his from her and clears his throat. “N-no,” Jaela says, crossing her legs. “I—I—just a bug flew by me. I was startled.”

Hana holds back her laughter, looking away. Godfrey narrows his eyes. “I didn’t see—”

“Got it!” Drake says, clapping his hands together, cheeks still pink. “So, uh… importing the apples…?”

“Exporting,” Godfrey sighs, irritated, rolling his eyes. “As I was saying…”

And Jaela returns to tuning him out, shooting a glance at Drake, eyes sparkling. Despite their almost slip-up, it only makes Jaela want him more… the anticipation almost too much to bear. In fact, fuck it. He’s horny. She’s horny. What’s stopping them?

“Oh—” Jaela stands, suddenly, then claps a hand over her mouth, other on her stomach. Godfrey grits his teeth.

“What is now, Duchess?”

“I—” Who said having notoriously bad morning sickness was a bad thing? It makes a believable cover. “I-I need to excuse myself,” she says, trying her best to sound sick. “Morning sickness—”

“For the love of…” Godfrey mumbles. “Go.”

“I’d better go with her,” Drake says, not missing a beat. Jaela fakes a heave and Godfrey winces. “Come on Jae…” Drake says with mock concern, the smile on the corners of his lips unmistakable. He places a hand on her back and escorts her out of the Royal Council chambers, the two in a clear hurry.

The palace hallways are empty—and they don’t want to wait—so Drake opens the nearest door, a closet, and pulls Jaela in, lips on each other as they shut the door, bumping into supplies. His lips taste like honey and smoke swirled together, just sweet enough, but not too much, heavy on hers. He kisses her hard, hiking one leg of hers around his waist and twisting his hand in her hair. “That wasn’t our most slick escape…” he says between kisses.

Jaela smiles against his lips, tongues flicking against the other. “But it worked. Now—”

She’s silenced with his kiss and a sharp hit against her ass. She grips his hair and tugs, hard, more than satisfied by the moan that Drake emits, breath hot against her mouth. Jaela bites down on his lower lip, silencing his moan and pulls him closer to her—if there is any space left—and trails her lips down his neck, the taste of him on her tongue, salty and familiar—god, she missed this.

His Adam’s Apple bobs as he throws his head back, lost to the feel of Jaela’s lips against his neck. “It’s been so long, Abdi…” Drake murmurs, rough hands sliding up her body. One slides back down to her ass, kneading the flesh over her tight skirt, hugging every curve. The other settles on her left breast. There’s some pain, a familiar soreness over the past few weeks, but Jaela embraces it, the sensation of his massaging making her nipples stiffen.

“Mm… who knew that this kid would already be interrupting our alone time…” Jaela whispers, but she doesn’t mind. Of course she doesn’t. She loves this child already.

But she also misses the way Drake pushes her against the wall and his lips simply devour her, like a man whose gone without food and water for weeks, drinking in everything about her: taste, feel, smell, her sounds, small moans as he kisses her and slips a hand under her shirt, over her lacy bra. His thumb brushes her stiff peak and she shivers, back arching against the wall at how the smallest of touches could make pleasure run from her nipple to her lower belly, warm and wanting more.

Jaela gasps, but Drake’s hot—so, so hot—mouth covers hers, only for a brief second—because it finds its way to her ear, tracing the shell before whispering, his breath a fiery prickle of pleasure in her ear, “I’m going to fuck you till you can’t walk, Abdi.”

If only words could make her orgasm—because that would, flashes of what he could do to her, what he’s done to her in closets and hidden spaces in the palace flash through her mind. Moment later, he’s kissing her again, starting to unbutton her top. Her stomach drops and rolls.

The first button undone and Jaela’s stomach twists again, and it has to be from anticipation—

Another button and her skirts pushed up to her mid-thigh, and there’s another turn of her stomach—

“Shit,” Jaela gasps and pushes Drake away. This isn’t from pleasure. It’s from—“I’m gonna be sick—”

There’s only a second to roll down her skirt before she darts out of the closet, Drake close behind her, hand over her mouth. The nausea is the strongest it’s ever been, and she swears there’s bile in her mouth. The halls are a blur as she runs past servants and guards, maybe a noble or two, she can’t see because she’s only focused on the upcoming bathroom—

A swift bump breaks her hyper focus on the bathroom and containing the vomit that comes up and onto Godfrey’s polished shoes. “What the—Duchess—”

Jaela looks up, wiping her mouth, into the furious face of Godfrey. Her cheeks warm, but not because of how Drake made her feel just a minute ago. Drake stands behind her, hands pushing back some of her hair. “Uh, she’s got sick again—”

Godfrey’s eyes look them up and down and he scowls, shaking off his shoes. “Next time you try to sneak off and shirk your duties for some needless pleasure, use the bathroom.” He stomps off, grumbling, and Jaela buttons back up her shirt, gulping the remnants of her vomit. It’s not pleasant, but she’s used to it by now, the taste barely phasing her.

“That was the most embarrassing thing of my life,” she sighs, looking down at the mess, lunch on the floor. Some passerby’s pale and scurry away, but her and Drake only look down at the mess, both used to Jaela’s latest… trick. “And on Godfrey no less…”

Drake kisses her cheek, hands lightly on her hips. “You don’t feel sorry.”

She doesn’t try to contain her smirk. “Not a bit.”

“I’ll get a mop from that closet…”

“And I’ll get back to work… after the bathroom.”

They part and Jaela sighs, the promise of a good old classic fuck in the palace closet dashed by the impeccable timing of their baby. Jaela shakes her head and rests her hand on the little bump, imagining that this kid is swimming with delight. “I agree, he’s an asshole and deserved that, little love, but can you at least calm down enough for your parents to cuddle tonight?”

Maybe her words will do something or maybe…

Thank god she made it to a bathroom in time, this time.

*

After the whole Godfrey incident, Jaela’s grateful that she didn’t need to leave her office for the rest of the day, meetings outside of her office non-existent, because she’s spending half of the time in the bathroom either throwing up water she just drank or hovering over the toilet wondering if the saltine crackers she had would make their grand appearance. It’s not fun—at all. She knew this royal heir would be a hassle (what baby isn’t?) but this early? Not that she isn’t grateful for this miracle of a baby but…

Really, she just wants to spend quiet time with Drake, to enjoy their last few months as a pair without any interruptions. Maybe that’s selfish of her... and she can’t be selfish anymore as a parent... but damn, he riled her the hell up and she wants to spend time in bed with him without worrying if she’s going to throw up on him. She’s certain it’s a kink he’ll never have. Or anybody, for that matter.

So, while Jaela stews in anger and sickness and she’s still fucking horny all afternoon... the sun falls and a rich twilight spreads across the land, city lights twinkling in the distance from the palace.

“Hey,” Drake says, popping in her office. Jaela looks up and a grin spreads across her face. Despite the flustered and angry mood she’s been in all day, he makes it go away just like that. And she hasn’t made a bathroom run in an hour. She shuts off her computer and hurries to him, meeting him in the middle of the room, arms wrapping around his neck, lips meeting each other without hesitation.

He chuckles against her lips, holding her close. “How are you feeling?” He asks when they part. “You taste minty.”

Jaela rolls her eyes and turns getting her purse and jacket, more than ready to go home. “I mean... what’s there to report? There’s a reason I’ve been in here all day.” She glances down and touches her stomach. It’s a small bump but she’s still on awe of it. Still though, she smiles, hand resting there as Drake takes her other hand and they walk together.

“I’m sorry you’re... not feeling well. Can’t help but think that some of that is my fault…”

Jaela chuckles and Drake follows, a fond smile on Jaela’s lips. “I mean… without you there wouldn’t be a little royal heir having the time of their life in here so…” He laughs fully, bumping her hip as they exit, their car already pulled up.

“Fair…. But we’ll have a nice dinner tonight and if you’re up to it…” The arch of his eyebrow is enough to send a spark down her spine and right to where it matters.

“Oh, I’m up for it, Walker. Morning sickness can’t last forever, right?”

*

It’s a weird dinner.

Weird because Jaela’s ready to pounce at any moment but Drake’s right. They should eat, she needs to eat, and then they need to wait and see if she’s in the clear—even though Jaela’s already in silk shorts and a tank-top that makes her breasts pop and she touched up her make-up, hair ready for him to pull and grip and stare at in awe when she rides his dick.

What?

It’s been a few weeks.

Her legs rest on his as they read in the living room. Well, she’s not reading, glancing up at Drake every few seconds while he absently rubs and brushes his fingers up and down her legs, never going too high… but high enough to make her thong wet, already. Yet, he doesn’t look, nose buried in a book.

She’s going to burst… and she gently taps his book with her foot, making it hit his nose. “Hey!” he jumps, but chestnut eyes glitter. “It was a good part—”

“Um… better than my pussy?”

His eyes widen in surprise and the works he wants to say get caught, but there’s excitement there, the twitch in his jeans evident enough. “… Nothing in the world is. So, uh—do you think—”

“Fuck yes.”

She’s pretty sure they’ve never ran that fast—not even when fighting Anton—but they beeline to the bedroom. They didn’t talk about what they planned to do, but somehow, they work as one, words unspoken as Jaela dips into the closet to change into that lingerie he loves so much, tits just a bit too tight—but nice to look at while Drake lights some candles, flicks on soft music, and turns off the lights, making the large bedroom cozy as can be, warm and inviting for his wife.

Jaela only pauses to catch her breath after she’s changed, looking herself over. She smirks, feeling… sexy, for the first time in forever. There’s been so little time to do this little number and to even feel the want to be pleasured by Drake during this pregnancy… that damn, it feels just nice to look and feel as sexy as he makes her feel even at her worse.

Slowly, Jaela peeks her head out to the warm, magical glow of the bedroom. Drake’s stripped down to his boxers and lays on the bed, propped up on an elbow, eyebrow raised. “You gonna come out of there…?”

“It’s just so…” Jaela steps out and takes in the candles—so much of it reminds her of their first time at the Homecoming Ball, the world coming together so perfectly before a near disaster—and for a moment, she forgets the goal they ached to achieve. Drake gulps across the room and then stands up, taking her hands. This pulls her out of her amazement at the sight. “It’s so… perfect… Drake….”

He walks back, bare feet padding softly on the carpet. Jaela follows, brown eyes warm as the candlelight that surrounds them, the rest of the world falling away to just the two of them in this room where so much love—and so much more to go—has occurred. “Only for you,” he breathes and sits on the bed. He releases her hands and sets them on her hips, pinkies dragging over the fabric. “I love you, Jae…”

“And I love you…”

At that, Jaela slides on his lap, straddling his hips. Soft hands come to his neck and cheek before her lips meet his—but when they do, god, it’s like they’re kissing for the first time in that study, passion, a rough tenderness, and love—one that was always there—bubbles up and into the kiss, Jaela lowering her hips to his, grinding against him, already hard as a rock for her. Somehow, even with all the puking, she still has it.

Drake pushes down on her hips as they kiss for minutes on end, guiding her grinding against him. Sometimes he slips a flinger in-between her legs to feel the slick fabric—and he shudders—but no, Jaela wants this slow, and she removes his hand, putting his back on her burning body. “Be good,” she whispers, kissing his neck.

“Yes ma’am…” Drake mutters and leans back, bringing her down to him, chest to chest. His hands slide to her ass and gives each cheek a firm squeeze before he drags his nails up from her ass to upper back. The music drifts in and out of Jaela’s conscience as they kiss, soft and hard, on the lips drifting down. She feels his firm body, taunt and tight, fingers brushing over his covered member.

God, she missed this.

Missed of it. All of him.

There was something about having real duties carrying the royal heir—but most importantly, their perfect baby—that took away their control of their lives. Yes, she wanted to help and make Cordonia better and she knew what a duchess would entail—but Drake’s the most important person in the world—she just wants to show him how much she loves him. How much she wants him. How much he means to her—but yet—

It all happens so fast. Drake’s making a move to unhook her bra, she’s biting his lower lip, tugging on it, ready to show him how much she wants him—but the next moment, she feels the familiar lurch, the one warning, and she gets off of him in a flash. She barely makes it, but she makes it, over the toilet and gagging, then feeling the familiar acid slide up and out of her.

This time though, there’s tears. Hot, hot tears that escape with her.

Drake, like the morning, is behind her, rubbing her back. He even kisses between her shoulder blades, offering words of love. “Do you need a washcloth? Anything… oh, oh Abdi… don’t cry…” But she cries, folding into his arms when the puke finally stopped.

“I-I just wanna—I just wanna be sexy for—and spend time—but I-I can’t s-stop being sick—” she hiccups. “I-I even wore this—and I can’t even use it—b-because I’m just sick—” He tries to speak, but she continues as he rocks her on the cool tile. “I-I’m not in control o-of anything… this pregnancy… I can’t sto-stop throwing up… all of these d-duties—”

At this, he pauses his gentle rocking, sucking in a breath. “I-I barely have time t-to spend with you, it’s been crazy since our wedding, Drake, not a-a chance to be husband and wife and—and—” White hot tears spill out as the confessions that she’s been bottling up escape, too. “And w-we really didn’t have a choice to have the heir, Drake, the HEIR—and once their born it’s gonna be all… all of these fucking rules and lessons—and I just wanted to enjoy our time b-before they’re here, and we-we don’t have any control bu-but I can’t even do that because I’m so sick and… and I just wanna be with you, Drake, n-not as a duchess and duke or parents yet… just… just us—we’re so good….”

For a few minutes there’s nothing but the sounds of her sobs dwindling as Drake rocks her, lips to the top of her head. Soon though, they stop and she basks in the warmth of his body. Finally though, he breaks the silence.

“Jaela… I… I understand exactly how you feel. That… that once this baby is born, our lives will change—change more than we planned for or can even expect. And… and yeah, we’re gonna lose that control.” There’s an edge of sorrow there, but it’s quickly gone as he tilts up her chin and looks in her eyes. “But you are the most beautiful woman to me. The most in-control person I’ve ever met. I don’t care if you throw up every day until they’re born. I’ll want you all the same and will wait until you can handle sex. That doesn’t matter. The only thing that does is you and your well-being. I’m not going anywhere, and I know that we’re going to make our child the most down to earth and kindest heir there is—and one that is in very much control of their life. So… let’s get some tea, we can cuddle—”

“No,” Jaela says, sitting up. Drake looks confused, hand resting on her exposed bump. He’s right. And also, fuck her sickness. She’s an expecting mom, but she’s still his wife—and she’s very much in control of how she wants to fuck her husband and when. Jaela tilts his chin towards her, smirk forming. “Go in the bedroom. In front of the mirror. Wait for me. Fuck this—I want to fuck you and I’m going to take control and get what I want.”

A spark goes through the both of them at the same time, electricity spreading out from her fingers through their bodies as one. He grins. “Yes, Duchess—” Oh, he knows what she likes. “Anything else you’ll request?”

Jaela grins and resists kissing him. “Boxers off. On your knees.”

“Mm. Yes.”

He goes for a kiss but Jaela backs away and stands up. There’s a cheeky grin of excitement and he’s off, boxers off before he leaves the bathroom. Jaela’s ready to strike, but first she needs to brush her teeth and wipe at her red, puffy eyes that twinkle with the promise of what’s about to come—full control, through and through. It’s been a while. And she’s about to feel all the control she yearns with the man she loves till the end of time.

As expected, —well, commanded—Drake is naked and on his knees before the full-length mirror, facing her. Oh, he knows exactly what she wants. Sure, her eyes are a bit red, but the sadness and tears are long gone as power and control ooze from Jaela who is more than determined to have a night for the books.

She grips his hair and tilts his head back. A visible shudder races through him, hands rising to her thighs. “Mm... Jaela… you’re even more beautiful…”

“Enough talking,” she playfully snaps. “Take these off. Eat me out until I come all over that pretty little face.”

She holds back a shudder when Drake responds, “As you wish, Duchess…” voice silky smooth and low, slowly removing her panties. She’d tug on his hair to make him go faster but the feeling of the silk and his hands sliding down her legs is a sensation to memorize, every hair on her body standing up with the tantalizing and teasing touch.

Once she steps out, Drake obeys, mouth to her exposed pussy, bare for him to savor. And savor he does, hands on her ass, pulling her closer to lap at her juices, flowing long before this moment. Jaela’s grip loosens (but doesn’t let go, of course) on his hair and she throws her head back as his tongue flicks and dances around her clit, teasing it with expert care, knowing all that makes her weak in the knees.

When he flattens his tongue and slides it long and deep up and down her slit, Jaela gasps and opens her eyes to look at the sight before her in the mirror. Drake, on his knees, holding her place—while she controls him, ultimately, hand wound in hair—mouth at her pussy like he loves, moaning and groaning against her, adding to the pleasure of his tongue.

“Good—good…” Jaela manages to mumble, fixated on his head moves in the slightest ways between her parted legs, starting to shake from the pleasure he creates for her. Briefly, Jaela watches his back muscles, how his whole body is putting itself into bringing her to pleasure, determined by the way he licks and gently sucks on her clit, teeth the lightest and best of sensations.

Drake hums against her as she moans, calling out his name again, gripping his hair for support, if anything, because she’s about to lose it. “D-Drake, I— oh!”

And finally—fucking finally—she comes from him, cumming over his tongue. She shakes, head back, while Drake eagerly laps her up, Jaela feeling his smile while he compliments how she tastes and how much he missed this and how he can’t wait to make his Duchess cum again and again tonight.

She could have him lick her pussy all night, really, but Jaela pulls his head back, breath ragged. “G-get on the bed,” she breathes, chest heaving, body still shaking from him, nail indents on her ass. “Lay down. Arms up. I want to see how good that dick is without you helping.”

Drake hesitates for a moment—but just one—as the meaning of her words come to light. “Oh god good… yes, Jaela… yes…”

“It’s Duchess to you, sir,” she winks, tapping his ass as he obeys, unable to contain his excitement, dick hard as can be again after seeing her a sobbing, freshly thrown up mess. Jaela unhooks her bra and drops it to the floor, slinking over to him, hand instinctively on her bump—but only for a moment, for she pulls the handcuffs out of their toy drawer—they’ll need a baby lock on that soon enough—and he can barely contain himself as he lays on the bed at her mercy.

“Ja—Duchess—I certainly don’t deserve this punishment…”

Drake loves the handcuffs. There’s no doubt it’s his favorite to be cuffed to the bed, or just handcuffed in general, while Jaela has her way with him. “Mm… oh… I think you do, sir. You’ve been such a bad boy…” Jaela teases him while she cuffs him, pussy close to his face, still dripping with her essence and his salvia, walls pulsing from either her lingering orgasm… or the promise of what’s to come. “And you…” A glance back at his dick is all she needs. “Don’t seem to mind.”

The cuffs click, loud in the room, and Drake shudders, letting her take complete control, arms stretched overhead, body laid out under her. She nods to the cuffs, running her finger along where the metal meets his skin, a familiar and wordless question and answer exchanged between them. He only nods, brushing his thumb against hers for a brief moment. Perfect. Tight, but not tight enough. Just enough to dig at his skin as he’s desperate to touch her. “Mm… think you’re ready for this, Walker?”

The veins in his forearms pop out as his fists clench together, desire plastered on his face, looking her nude form up and down with hungry, ravenous, nearly black eyes, pupils dilated.

“It looks like I have no choice to be at your mercy… completely under your control… Duchess….”

Jaela smirks, sliding back along his body, making sure to brush her pussy against his chest and stomach… and lower, hovering over his erect dick. “Do you really think you deserve your punishment?”

“Yes—god, please—” Drake begs, however, he’s cut short when she turns around, showing off her ass. “Huh? What…”

Jaela straightens up, still with her back facing him, as she lines her pussy to his dick, letting the tip brush between the folds. She flips back her hair, smirking. Oh, he’s in for it. “You’ll get the sight you want when you earn it,” she says, voice low and sultry, then finally—oh god, finally—she lowers herself on his dick.

She’s so wet that he slides in with ease, girth stretching her walls in ways that have been long neglected. “But I want to—”

“You’ll see what you want when I decide that you can.” She turns her head, hands on his thighs, pussy fully filled to his dick, unmoving. “Beggar can’t be choosers.” Jaela smirks, eyes bright. Drakes his lips and moves his hips up, but she keeps him in place, not giving into the temptation that makes her heart skip a beat and a familiar warmth in her stomach. And a roll, but fuck it—she’s going to ignore this. “So for now, keep your mouth shut—and for every sound I hear, I’ll stay turned around. Also, you can’t cum until I say so. Understand?”

His mouth opens… but then Drake’s eyes flash and he nods, adjusting himself, settling into the bed, wrists cuffed above him. Satisfied with his obedience—his offer of giving all control to her, and only her in the bed tonight—she turns back around. With a painstaking pace, Jaela lifts herself up—just to the very tip—then grinds herself back down on his dick, giving him a show with her ass. What can she say? She knows he likes it, loves it when he pounds her from behind, hitting and gripping her ass—worshipping it as much as her pussy and tits.

Sure, maybe he wants to see her ride him, tits bouncing, but he has to earn it. And really… is watching her bounce on his dick reverse cowgirl really a sore sight? Judging by the sharp intake of breath as he tries to stay quiet, it’s not.

Jaela bounces with expertise on his dick, steadying herself, keeping her pace nice and slow— drawing out his want, his desire, so clear by the way he moves his own hips up, wanting to go deeper, cuffs clinking as he flexes and tenses, moving, fighting the desire to remain still, wanting nothing more than to touch her, to give her his love.

However, as much as Jaela wants that, she relishes in the feeling of control while she rides him, not giving him the gift of her body bore before him. She pushes back more of her hair and exhales, a moan escaping from her as his dick curves just right, hitting the spot. In response, Drake groans to, a small plea escaping, “Jae… pl-please…”

Was that on purpose or no? Jaela smirks, the fire of control back and blazing in her equally dark pupils, desire dripping off of her. She turns, pausing, his member barley brushing her pussy lips. Drake’s mouth is half open, chest heaving while he pants, eyes pleading for his reward. And already? Jaela digs her nails into his thigh and swallows back a bout of nausea. No. This isn’t happening. She refuses. “Now what did I say?”

“T-that I can’t—”

“Make a sound.” He moans when she lowers herself onto his dick, toes curling at how thick he is. “I meant it. Now, I’ll be here longer before I decide if you’re worthy of seeing me. Understand?”

Jaela knows Drake wants to burst, to tell her screw that and he wants to watch her ride him into oblivion, but his only reply is shifting his wrists in the cuffs, blue veins bright as they can be against his slick and taunt skin, red around where they metal lays. “Good boy,” Jaela purrs, gently squeezing his balls, and then turns, beginning her countdown.

As much fun as it is to tease him, she wants to see his face, too. To watch as he marvels over her, to see how he moves his hands, unable to touch her, but still trying to anyways. The desperation to touch and validate her so clear on his face—she wants that. But… she’s not ready to give up willfully messing with him. And after all, with all of her bathroom breaks in the middle of meetings, she’s gotten good at knowing the time without a clock.

So, Jaela bounces on his cock with a languid pace that makes him shake—but not cum—keeping him invested and on edge—just where she wants him. For now, she enjoys the sensation of how he feels, savoring those moments when she slides onto him, bodies meeting in a perfect harmony. But then… times up, the two minutes going by, just like she planned. Drake’s about to give up on staying silent, breathing so damn hard, barely containing his whimpers and begging for more. Jaela pauses, then removes herself, hovering over him on her knees when she turns to face him, pushing more hair back to give him a view of her breasts.

“I think you’ve been good enough…”

“Can I tou—”

She presses a finger to his desperate lips, silencing him. His eyes widen as she leans over, getting into position. She slips in two fingers and his tongue does just as she wants it to, tasting her fingers, ones with a hint of her essence on them. “You’ll touch me when I want you too. You did good, but you’re not out of those cuffs yet, Walker. But…” She removes her fingers and slides her hands down his chest, nails leaving faint pink marks. “If you’re really good here, then maybe you’ll get your reward.”

Drake gulps, hard. “Which is…?”

Jaela smirks, running hands down her curves and down to her thighs, tight against his hips. “You can have me… anyway you want me for as long as you need. But only…” Her eyes dart to the cuffs he loves yet wants out of all at once. “Only if you’re good and let me ride you until I cum—but you can’t. You can only watch. Understand?”

He groans, head thrown back, long hair plastered with sweat on his forehead. Maybe to some it doesn’t seem like much, but Drake always—and always—loses it when she comes on his cock while riding him. It’s like clockwork once she orgasms on him—he follows within seconds, shaking and crying her name. But now? Well…

Jaela lowers herself onto him again, biting her lip as she watches his expression—like he’s died and gone to heaven—as she gives him what they’ve both been craving for weeks. On top of it, this is both their favorite position—only this time, heightened by Drake’s inability to touch her and her ultimate control over his body, his pleasure.

They lock eyes and Jaela doesn’t waste time this time, riding him. Her hands fall to his chest as she bounces on his dick, riding him like she’s never rode him before, the sounds of their bodies meeting again and again—in a fast, furious pace—drowning out the music. This time, Jaela’s not quiet—she’s loud, head thrown back here and there when it hits just right. Drake’s moaning too, crying out her name, nails digging into his palms, straining against the cuffs as his hips rise to meet her over and over, just making him sink deeper into her.

“Fuck, Drake…” Jaela gasps, the coil deep within her tightening with each roll of her hips against him. His cock is definitely hitting her g-spot and fuck, she’s going to lose it. Drake smirks despite the need to touch and love her as he wants and his eyes rove her over her body, starting to erratically ride him, hips twisting and circling on their own accord. Her tits bounce and the sweat just makes a sheen that the candlelight reflects off of, highlighting every curve she has, framing her body perfectly. While he looks at her, she looks at him, savoring the sight of her husband writhing below her.

His pecs and abs are defined, tensing as they move as one, watching his wife do her work. His wrists are red, but she knows he likes the twinge of pain that comes with being unable to touch her, pulling on the cuffs and nearly begging for her to release him—but it’s all part of the game. Finally, his face. Oh, his face. It’s overcome by an intoxicating mixture of lust and love and it gets her drunker than anything before by just a glance at it. Sweaty and pink, but his lips are full from her kisses and teeth, pupils dilated to the very edge of his iris, only a sliver of that chestnut brown that drank her in visible.  And his mouth, oh his mouth open and filled with gasps and groans of pleasure, her name the sweetest thing on his tongue, wanting more and more from her body.

“God… you’re so fucking beautiful,” Drake says, then glance down at her clit. “Y-you should play with—”

“Wanna make me cum faster so you’ll get your reward, huh, Walker?” Jaela doesn’t know how she manages that, but she’s touching her clit as he wanted. His eyes widen and his shudder lets her know that he’s dangerously close—but to be fair, him watching her pleasure herself further (and be unable to do anything about it) is about to send her over to edge herself.

In fact—Jaela’s head throws back as she comes, hard as hell, the two points of pleasure exploding all at once and working its way up her body, toes curling, body shuddering, and a broken set of cries escaping between her lips—all while Drake watches with hunger and her pussy clenches around him—rapidly at first, then it slows as it pulses.

When the bright points of light stop obscuring her vision, Jaela slowly brings her dazed gaze back to Drake, body trembling, still connected with Drake, their pelvises slick with… just her juices, Drake not come yet. Jaela laughs weakly, raising an eyebrow, pussy still pulsing. “Y-you didn’t come, hmm?”

“You said I get to have you… any way… if I’m g-good so….” He shakes but takes deep breaths to calm his rock hard member. Jaela could deny him that… but… she grins leaning over him, already missing how he feels within her. But his lips find her breast and she giggles, releasing the cuffs.

“You’re only free because I’m letting you, you know that, right?”

One click. Two clicsk. And he’s free. She expects it to be like this, letting his hands come to her while he lavishes her breast, but she taken by surprise, as gasp escaping as he sweeps her into his arms and her back hits the bed.

No frills, no tricks, just the two of them pressed as tight as they can be, lips crashing together. He’s not in her—not, not yet—for without breaking his kiss, he gently pushes her legs up, knees to her shoulders, letting the kiss linger as he pulls away to look down at her. “I love you,” he says, hands soft on her brown and burning skin.

Jaela smiles, one of warmth and sincerity unlike the playful minx she was before. “And I love you…” she replies, hand bring his head down to meet hers as he thrusts in her—long, slow, and deep—so, so deep, filling her to completion, connected through and through. Her legs ankles link around his back as he works, teeth tugging hard on her lower lip, meeting her eyes.

She laughs through the kiss and tugs on his hair as he squeezes her breast, bodies plastered together, pleasure radiating from every inch of her. Hell, she can ignore her stomach, too, caught in Drake’s embrace, one of love and everything that’s good in the world.

They don’t last long in this position, Drake deep as he can be, feeling every twitch her walls, feeling every ragged breath from her—but neither mind. Jaela’s spent for the meanwhile, but she has enough for her to kiss him hard and full on the mouth as he comes in her, the two pausing their frantic hips, meeting as one—letting this one linger.

Jaela loses track of time as they kiss and Drake shudders here and there, lingering in her, the world starting to settle after their much needed romp. But, time passes for he pulls out and collapses next to her, over the covers. Jaela giggles and reaches out a hand, brushing his wrist. “Did you have fun?”

“So damn much, Abdi,” Drake grins… taking her hand. “Been a while since we used the handcuffs… and seeing you…” He sighs in happiness, looking to the canopy for a moment, then settles back on her, hand on her little belly. “I know you’ve been feeling gross and didn’t want me to look at you or touch you for a while… but you look good. Really damn good, Abdi.”

Jaela laughs quietly. It’s hard to believe… but she has to admit that the little bump is pretty cute. “Well… I’m glad… oh shit…” Jaela gets off of the bed, stomach back at its full force. Drake sits up, ready to get off, but Jaela shakes her head. She manages, “I’ll just be a second, stay there, I’m fine, it’s worth it, anyways,” before she darts to the bathroom. It’s quick handling her business and getting washed up for a moment, soreness starting to hit her from the vigorous sex that clearly let out a few demons and pent up anger.

By the time she comes back, Drake’s blown out the candles and he holds the covers back for her. Jaela smiles and slides in, laying on her side. Drake spoons her from behind, both naked, and his hand finding its new favorite spot to rest, over that bump that causes so much annoyance… but brings so much joy, even at her worst.

He kisses behind her ear, snuggling close to her. “I love you, Abdi. I… I know we won’t get many more months to do things like that…”

“That’s why we’ll have babysitters, namely named Maxwell…”

“I told you we’re not leaving our kid with Maxwell alone…”

“Liv will be there…”

“They will not learn how to throw knives by six months…”

Repressing a giggle, Jaela turns her head, just a bit, to look him in the eyes, moonlight streaming in the dark room. He’s amused, lips turned up into a smile. His hand flexes over her stomach, protective. Her hand joins his. “We won’t get nights like this as much… but we’ll make every moment we have with each as a couple and as a family count, won’t we, Drake?”

“Of course,” he says, smiling wider. “And… and even though our baby will the heir to Cordonia, Jaela…” Drake kisses her cheek and though she feels tense… she relaxes against him, legs wound together. “We’re still the parents. Not Liam. We’ll have all the say in how they grow up. We… we’ll be in control. I know we’ll both make sure of it.”

Despite her outburst, and yeah, there’s some fear… Jaela nods, returning her head to the side and closing her eyes, more than content. “I… I know. Cordonia will be in good hands because they’ll have some kickass parents behind them, raising them.”

“Exactly.”

With satisfied bodies and quiet exhales, Jaela and Drake drift into the best sleep they’ve both had in weeks, completely and utterly entwined with each other, unwilling to let each other go, savoring the closeness they so dearly missed for weeks on end, time lost to meetings and excitement and preparation for the one thing they so long yearned for: the future.

Disclaimer: All characters and rights belong to Pixelberry Studios.

Permatag: @youwontlikewherewewillgo​, @mfackenthal​, @hhiggs​, @enmchoices​ @the-everlasting-dream​, @hopefulmoonobject​, @krisnicjack​, @ladynonsense​, @innerpostmentality​, @thatcatlady0716​, @lizeboredom​, @choicessa​, @boneandfur​​, @tmarie82​, , @thatspicegirlssong​​ @craftytacotrashdream​​, @blackcoffee85​​, @akrenich​​, @trr-fangirl​​, @client-327​​,  @thewolvesss​​, @aworldoffandoms​​, @desiree-0816​​, @birdlovesafish​​

Drake: @fairydustandsarcasm​​​​

Fic: @jens-diamondchoices​ @drakexnadira​

#the royal heir #drake x mc #trh #playchoices #choices #long post #n*fw #read more #drake x jaela #drakewalkerwhipped fic #playchoices fic #choices fanfic #playchoices fanfic #choices fic #trh fic #the royal heir fanfin #drake walker

[leoswritingcorner]

an oracle in olympus pt. 4

wow, this one didn’t take as long! nice.

lucky meets another olympian

part 4 of ?

A week goes by, and then another.

Lucky thinks it's safe to breathe again. No deities have appeared, or tried to spirit her away - save for Lucy and Jamie who occasionally stopped by. The day after they brought her home from Olympus, Jamie had gifted Lucky with a new phone.

“This is, like, one of my older Iris-Phones! It still, like, totally works great though!” Jamie explained, holding the cell out to Lucky. 

Lucky took the phone and looked over its sleek and advanced design. 

“So it’s an...iPhone?” she asked. It was dusty pink and had various heart stickers Jamie had stuck around it. Jamie blew a raspberry. 

“Apple, like, wishes it could be an Iris-Phone. But, like, mortal phones can’t, like, connect to our devices or get service from Olympus. I cleaned out, like, all the contacts, except for Lucy and me. So you can like, keep in touch with us!” She said, smiling brightly. “Also, we’ll keep you, like, posted with Cherry too.”

The phone buzzes and a text pops up on the group chat. Two ½ Immortals. Lucy thought it was a hilarious group name. 

good morning, charmz! xoxo

Jamie’s message pops up right after. 

Happy Fri-YAY!!!! You made it through your second week of work!!! (ten heart emojis followed).

Lucky leans against the wall of the breakroom and types a quick reply. Thanks, y’all! I’m about to start so I’ll text ya both after. Still nothing from Cherry? She taps send and Jamie responds promptly.

Nothing yet, dear :( :’( 

Of course. Nothing. Lucky tilts her head back and sighs. She’s relieved. She thinks for a moment, she might be okay with Cherry never finding out anything concerning Tyche and herself. She could go on being normal Lucky Siddalee Day, twenty-four year old from Savannah, Georgia. Someone who didn’t have anything fantastical happen to her. 

The sight of the ceiling darkens as she closes her eyes, and lets herself a moment of peace before the likely hustle of today’s work. Completely normal. 

It begins slowly, a gentle tingling in her chest. At first, she passes it off as remaining nerves. But this felt different. Her skin prickles as if pins were being poked against her, only then to feel a brush of something light as feathers. It makes her breath hitch in her throat. Lucky’s hand presses to the spot on her chest that kept Hades in question. It felt warm, and only grew warmer as the sensations she felt intensified more and more.

Wake up. Remember. Wake up! Remember!

The words flash through her mind like lightning. They repeated over and over frantically, as if a voice begging from somewhere hidden.

“Lucky! Hey, are you here?”  Rebecca’s voice calls. Lucky’s body jolts and her eyes fly open to see her friend’s head poking through the doorway. “C’mon!” Her coworker urges. “You got three field trips today. Two elementary classes, and one middle.”

Lucky can barely remember the sensations she had felt and her thoughts are her own again. She nods to Rebecca. “Yeah, I’ll be right out.” She answers shakily, slipping the phone into her vest pocket. Taking one last glance into the mirror, she adjusts her work clothes. Blouse and vest, neatly pressed, pencil skirt and short heeled shoes - professional, but comfy for long tours. Especially leading groups of hyper primary students. 

“Welcome to Jurassic World.” Lucky sighs at her reflection.

*

4:30 PM comes around and only thirty more minutes stood between Lucky and the freedom to enjoy her weekend. The museum is mostly empty. A few people here and there, but mainly all moving towards the exit doors. She spies around the Grecian Mythos and Art exhibit, feeling a swell of pride flow through her. Each piece here carried a piece of history on it. Sculptures and painters from centuries ago, able to live on in the artwork they created. She was able to be part of it all. Lucky smiles proudly to herself and sits down on the bench, across from Apollo Sauroktonos and lets feeling come back to her feet and legs with a relieved breath. 

The peace only lasts a moment when she feels someone’s presence by her. They take a seat next to her and huff. “I never liked that.” They mutter.

“Hm?” Lucky blinks, glancing at them. It was a young man, likely around her age. Even from just his profile, she can tell how striking his looks were. Almost just like a well carved statue that stood the exhibit. He turns his head to her and grins.

Lucky stares at him. His eyes practically shine and glimmer in the setting sun from the window. “That statue,” he says motioning his head towards Apollo Sauroktonos. Lucky blinks and takes a quick glance at it. “It...I dunno, it just didn’t capture something,” he continues, leaning back. “Or...too much of something.” 

At that, Lucky laughs lightly. “Well, funnily enough it’s still debated if it’s of Greek or Roman origin,” she begins. “I mean, it is a copy of an original work of Praxiteles,” she explains. Now he’s the one laughing.

“You were a nerd then, T,” he says, “And you’re a nerd now.”

At that, Lucky freezes. Any relaxation that came to her body left, and each muscle within her tensed in alert. He just called her ‘T’. She turns her head back to him and he’s watching her. His eyes really were shimmering gold, as if they held the sunlight within them, practically dancing. That’s when she notices the soft golden hue against his skin. Another Olympian was making an appearance to her.

“I heard you were back, Tyche,” he says with a smile. “Why didn’t you tell me? Hell, I thought I’d be the first one you’d get a hold of.”

Lucky opens and closes her mouth, and shakes her head. “I don’t...um.” 

All words of the English vocabulary have suddenly left her, except for  ‘uh’, ‘um’, and ‘er’ all coming together in a mash of indistinct muttering.

He pauses, looking over her and realization begins to come over. “Shit, you don’t remember, do you?” He questions. Lucky shrugs helplessly. 

“But you gotta remember!” He insists. “I mean, like, we totally love each other!”

Lucky feels her breath catch tightly in her throat. “Y-You’re Clyde?” She asks in a small voice. 

At that he pauses and lifts a brow.

“Clyde?” He repeats, nearly offended. “No! T, it’s me. Lucas.” He says, pointing to the statue, then to himself. “Y’know, Apollo.” 

Apollo, god of the sun, music, light, and oracles…

If anything, something should have stirred within her if she was really Tyche. Lucky stares at him, and tries to imagine, to remember. She takes a breath and he looks at her hopefully.

“I’m so sorry, dude.” Lucky breathes out. “Nothin’ is clickin’. There’s a chance I ain’t even Tyche. My name is Lucky.” 

Lucas frowns, and the light that seemed to shine from him slowly began to dim. The glow of his skin fades slightly. He sits back, looking forward. 

“This can’t be. The best oracle…,” he says quietly to himself.

“Um.�� Lucky starts awkwardly, standing up. “I’m really sorry. L-Listen, it’s sunset and it’s close to closin’-”

“That’s it!” Lucas snaps his fingers. Suddenly, there’s a brightness to him again. “I have an idea. We- uh, Tyche and I used to love to do this when we could. It’d piss off Zeus.” 

Lucky looks at him puzzled. “Anythin’ pisses off Zeus.”

Lucas chuckles, reaching into his pocket. He pulls out a pair of keys, flipping them around his finger. “Not as much as taking a mortal for a ride across the sunline.”

Lucky feels her mouth drop open slightly. Lucas jingles the keys. “C’mon, one time across the horizon. If anything, that’ll jog your memory for sure.”

*

Oh what in the blazes was she doing? Was she really about to get into some strange yellow Camaro that was actually Apollo’s chariot? With updates? Lucas opens the door for her and with a resigned sigh she carefully slips into the car and buckles up. 

Guess she really was doing this.

Lucas gets into the driver’s seat and looks to her. “This was one of our favorite things to do. If you don’t remember this, I don’t know what the hell you will remember. Ready?” He asks, starting the engine.

“Ready,” Lucky nods, strapping the seatbelt a bit tighter. 

Lucas revs the car a few times before peeling out. Lucky gasps, her body sinking against the seat. His hands move the steering wheel with grace and ease. Lucky dares a glance out the window. No one seemed to notice the car speeding by. A song pulses through, with Lucas tapping a hand along to the beat. “Lost in Yesterday by Tame Impala.” He calls over the music. “One of my favorites to work to.” Lucky’s eyes dart back and forth between him and the road ahead. Still, they manage to avoid cars, people, traffic of all sorts until it all becomes a blur. The sun seemed to come closer to greet them. Lucky cringes, holding her hands up, hoping to block away the brightness.

“Oh, shit. Sorry.” Lucas says, fishing around the middle console. “Here, Izzy helped me make these. Totally able to block out the sun rays and all that harmful shit,” he says, holding a pair of sunglasses to her. Lucky puts them on. They were tinted a brownish color but she could see everything before them now, sun included.

“We should be over the Pacific now,” Lucas informs her.

“What?” Lucky questions. Sure enough, the road was gone and the car moved over the waving waters of the ocean. Lucky covers her mouth, and looks to Lucas. He grins, turning the car just when it seemed to come to the curve of the horizon. 

“Now for the fun part,” Lucas says, as he changes gears with a loud noise. “Sun’s locked.” He nods, revs the engine, and they take off again.

They drive across the ocean, complete darkness before them, and Lucky watches in awe as night gives way to dawn. Beams of light breaking through clouds that rolled and swirled before vanishing. Hazes of orange and yellow flew along beside them and over the car. Her eyes go wide with wonder as she laughs. “Oh my stars.” 

Lucas chuckles. “Open the window.” He encourages her. Lucky shoots him an unsure look, but he lowers the windows of both sides. He reaches out an arm, keeping one hand steady on the wheel. Lucky watches with wide eyes as the mixing colors of dawn fly around his hand. “It’s safe.” Lucas assures her.

 The wind whips into the car and sends her curls flying back as Lucky leans closer to the window. Hesitantly she reaches out, and feels the cool of the air and spray of the ocean below. Colors seem to dance around her hand and fingers. A stunned and excited look comes over her face. She was practically touching the sunrise. Growing up she had always watched the sunrise back in Savannah, and even a few times on Tybee Island over the beach, but all of those sights now fell short to being the one who lead the dawn across the skies. 

Lucas stops the car, and shifts the gears again. There’s another loud noise and he settles back. “And done. A new day here on the other side of earth,” he says proudly. He gives her a grin and presses his fingers to his lips, making a chef’s kiss. “one of my best.”

“Wow.” Lucky breathes. She tips the sunglasses down, and looks at the forming colors of pink and purple of morning. “That was...i-incredible.” 

Lucas laughs. “I guess. Tyche freaking got a kick out of it, just like you are.”

“Well who wouldn’t?” Lucky laughs. “Thank you for that experience.”

Lucas shrugs. “Thought it would help,” he says, glancing at her. “So...did it?” Lucky looks away from the scene outside and to him. She doesn’t know what to say. Her heart sinks and her stomach feels heavy with a sort of combination between sadness and guilt. She honestly wished that she could say yes. Lucky shakes her head.

He sighs and leans his head back. Lucky isn’t sure if it’s the sunglasses and the light of dawn messing with her, but she thinks she sees growing tears in his eyes. “Well,” he finally says after a moment. “guess I’ll just have to bug you till something clicks.” 

“Ah, join the club,” Lucky huffs. But she flashes him a good natured smile. “Why don’t ya tell me, a bit more about you and Tyche?” She asks. “It might help. Was she a good oracle?”

Lucas turns to her. “A good oracle?” He repeats. “She was the best, and I worked with the girls at Delphi. But Tyche,” He sighs “Tyche was meant for something great. She was favored by most of the gods in Olympus. But mainly me.” Lucas adds. 

Lucky snorts, rolling her eyes. “Course.”

“You got her attitude I see.” Lucas chimes. “So we’re on the right path.” 

Lucky giggles, resting back. “Guess so. Any stories with y’all?”

Lucas thinks for a moment before laughing. “Oh yeah, there was this time when we went cow tipping in Hermes’ herd and one of them turned out to be a minotaur…” He tells her between laughter as he starts up the car, driving off again. 

The sun lingers behind them as they drive back into the night. The reflection of the rising moon catches Lucky’s eyes. A thought like a whisper comes through her mind before it leaves just as softly.

Where are you Tyche?

*

Saturday morning arrived and Lucky missed it. Lucas had brought her home around 10 pm, and who knew traveling through bended time and space would tire her out? At least they stopped for burgers. Lucas had told her some more stories about Tyche, and some of their misadventures; including accidentally setting off a fire at the Theophania festival. He added his information to her phone.

Now Lucky has three gods on speed dial.

A consistent knocking from the door echoes in the small apartment. Lucky snorts awake. She was on the pullout couch, lost under a swarm of quilts and blankets. The Forrest Gump DVD menu played on loop. “Ugh.” She groans, pushing herself up. 

She doesn’t see the half drunk bottle of Rosé at the side of the couch, and she barely pays mind to the scribbles written in a notebook that she kicks under the couch as she stumbles to the door. “Who is it?” She calls out.

The knocking continues. Getting louder and harder.  

“I said ‘who is it’ for, Pete's sake!” Lucky snaps, flinging the door open. 

Eric stares her down and Lucky stares back up at him.

“Mortal.” He greets sharply.

“Trophy husband.” Lucky retorts.

Eric sneers. He’s not dressed as primly as he was in the underworld. This time he wore a dark peacoat and casual clothes underneath. On the lapel of his coat, however, was a silver pin of a skull covered with rose vines.

“What do ya want?” Lucky asks, keeping the door half shut. “Did Cherry find somethin’?”

“No.” He shakes his head.

Lucky scoffs. “Then why are ya here?” She asks, shutting the door. His hand flies out, blocking it from shutting completely. With a surprising strength he opens the door. Lucky stumbles and glares at him. “What is your damage, flower-child?”

“I’m here to get answers for myself. Are yah really Tyche, or not.” He says, stepping inside. “This is a shit hole.” He states, looking around the studio apartment. 

Lucky glares at him. “Ya didn’t have to come in, ya know.” She crosses her arms. “What do ya mean you’re here to get answers?” She demands. Her eyes follow him as he takes a step further into the apartment. 

Eric doesn’t answer her right away, he instead surveys the room, as if trying to find something, a clue of some sort. Finally he turns to her, “I want to see if you’re really Tyche or not. Not just some hack mortal.”

“How will ya do that?” Lucky asks, hoping he didn’t catch the slight waver in her voice. She crosses her arms tightly and tries to muster up a glare. 

Eric grins, answering her lowly. “I have my ways.” 

#an oracle in olympus #lucky day #lucas shaw #again shout out to erica for being the best beta ever!!! #apollo!lucas stole my heart as i wrote this

[dubersbutt]

Nerves - Jamie Benn

Anon Asked: Hi there! I am really into Jamie Benn lately and was wondering if you could write a fic where the reader and Jamie have gone on a few dates and are going to hook up for the first time but both are nervous. The more fluff, smut & detail the better! Thanks :)

A/N: This was oddly difficult for me to write but I hope y’all like it 

Warnings: Smut

(thighs thighs thighs thighs)

Jamie wiped his hands on his knees. He had just finished practice was currently taking off his gear. Tyler was sitting next to him. He cleared his throat before asking what he wanted.

“So, Ty, you’ve been with girls before, right?” Jamie says quietly, to make sure the other guys don’t overhear.

Tyler gives him an odd look, “No, Chubbs, I’m a virgin. Why?” He takes a deep breath, “There’s this girl that I’ve been seeing and I really don’t want to screw it up.” “You’re asking me for relationship advice?” he raises an eyebrow.

Jamie lets out a small laugh, “No, I’m not that stupid. It’s just that this is the first time that we’re gonna...you know…”

“Have sex?” he gasps in feign shock, “Chubbs, are you a virgin?”

Jamie just rolls his eyes, “Forget it, I knew I shouldn't have asked.”

Tyler laughs, “Relax. Why are you so nervous about this date?” “I don’t know, I just really like her and I don’t want to disappoint.”

“Okay, well here are some things that have yet to fail me.”

~~~

You and Jamie had decided to go mini golfing for your third date. Had you known what a big cheater he was, you would have chosen something else.

“Jamie, I can see you dragging the ball, that’s cheating,” you laugh.

“That was one tap. I have no idea what you’re talking about.” “I’m going to put you down for like 10 hits then.”

“Give it to me,” he uses his long arms to reach for the piece of paper and the small pencil from your hands. You stretch your hands behind you. He grabs your hands and pulls you closer towards him, tilting your head up to kiss you. The two of you stand there before you hear some throats clearing from behind you.

You pull yourself away from Jamie and snap your head towards the noise. A group of junior high students are looking at the two of you, giggling. Both of you, embarrassed, quickly grab your golf balls from the hole and move onto the next one.

~~~

The last hole on the golf course was one of those ramps that you have to shoot directly up the middle, or the machine eats your ball. Jamie hit once and missed, you hit once and the ball came back to you so you lined up your shot.

You were ready to swing when you felt Jamie push you lightly in the ribs, throwing you off balance. “Jamie! Stop cheating. I know you’re a sore loser but I’m gonna win regardless if I get this in or not,” you tell him as you poke him with your club.

“I haven’t done anything. You’re the one who added all those extra shots on my turns.” “That’s because you were cheating constantly!”

“I did not!”

You roll your eyes and line yourself up again. Much to your surprise, when you hit the ball it goes directly where it’s supposed to go. The lights on the machine light up and you throw your club down in celebration.

“I did it! That’s the first time I’ve ever done that before,” you do a little dance in celebration. Jamie’s watching you with a smile on his face, “Come on, dork, we gotta go return our stuff.” He picks up your stick for you and starts walking to the counter.

“Don’t call me a dork, you dork”

“So, where we off to now, captain?” you ask as you get into Jamie’s truck.

“I was thinking my place. I mean we totally don’t have to if you don’t want to, I was just thinking-”

“Jamie,” you cut him off, “I would love to.”

The ride to Jamie’s house is pretty silent, but not uncomfortable. You listen to Jamie’s playlists and make fun of his taste in music. It’s not a far drive from the mini-golf course to his house.

“You want anything to drink,” Jamie asks as the two of you walk into the kitchen.

“No, I’m good.”

He gets a glass and fills it with water from the sink. You watch as he drinks, Adam’s apple bobbing as he takes a sip.

“I had a good time tonight,” you say.

“So did I,” he replies.

You get up and walk over to him by the counter. You put your arms around his neck and pull him into a kiss. His hands grip your waist and pull you closer to him. You deepen the kiss and his hands move to the zipper on the back of your dress.

“Is this okay?” he asks.

“Yeah,” you reply, short of breath.

“Do you wanna go to the bedroom?”

“Please.” He takes your hand and leads you to his room. It has a large king bed in the middle, but it’s fairly plain otherwise.

His hands find their way back onto your waist again and he walks the two of you back to the bed. He falls back and you’re being pulled on top of him. Your legs land on either side of him and you tangle your fingers in his hair. You deepen the kiss as you grind down on the growing tent in his pants. His hands are back on the zipper of your dress and he hesitantly starts to pull it down.

You slip your arms from the sleeves and remove the dress, leaving you in your bra and panties. You slide your hands under his shirt. He gets the message and soon he’s taking off his shirt the way all guys do, lifting the back and pulling it over his head.

You lean down and kiss your way down his neck, making your way down in between his legs. You undo his belt and start to push his pants down his legs when he stops you.

“Stop,” he pushes you away, “I don’t think I’ll last too long if you do that. And, I want this to be nice.” You nod your head and allow Jamie to flip you over onto your back. He unhooks your bra and slides his hand into your underwear. His finger circles your clit slowly and you throw your head back. He dips his finger lower, spreading your wetness.

“Is this for me?” he asks, voice low.

“All for you, Jamie.” He inserts a finger, slowly pumping it in and out. Soon he’s adding a second and then a third. He uses his thumb to massage your clit at the same time, sending shockwaves through your whole body.

“Fuck, Jamie, I-” you stop, unable to make a coherent thought.

“If you wanna...cum now, then do it,” he says almost hesitantly.

When your orgasm hits you throw your head back while moaning Jamie’s name. He keeps his fingers inside you, pumping slower now. When your head clears you ask Jamie for a condom. His face falls as he makes a sudden realization.

“I forgot to pick up a box,” he hangs his head.

You can’t help but feel disappointed as well, “That’s okay, we don’t have to have sex tonight.”

“I’m sorry.”

You lean up to kiss him again, but this time you get him against the pillows. You pull down his jeans and his penis, fully erect, springs out. You work for your hand up and down his shaft, thumbing the small bead of precum at the tip and spreading it. Jamie lets out a contented sigh from above you.

You slowly drag tongue over the tip before putting your mouth around it. You slowly bob your head up and down, he was thicker than anyone you’d ever had before so you had to take the time to adjust yourself. Whatever you couldn’t fit in your mouth you were pumping with your hand.

“God, (Y/N), I’m gonna-”

He doesn’t finish his sentence before your mouth is full of his cum. You swallow, trying not to let your dislike of the bitter taste show.

“I’m sorry, I-I should have warned you first,” he stammers.

“It’s okay,” you reply as you get up to press a soft kiss to his lip. You settle into the spot next to him to sleep.

~~~

When you wake up Jamie is no longer in the bed with you, but you can hear noises coming from down the hall. Deciding to investigate, you get out of bed and find the sweatshirt Jamie left on the counter. Pulling it over your head you walked down the hall to the kitchen. When you get there you find Jamie, in sweats, making something on the stove. You walk up behind him and wrap your arms around him.

“Morning,” you greet.

“Good morning,” he replies, “why are you awake? I was gonna bring this up.” “Whatchya makin?” you ask in a singsong voice.

“Pancakes.”

You finally untangle yourself from him to look at what’s cooking on the stove, “They look delicious.”

When the two of you finished breakfast  - which included you asking if Jamie had any Aunt Jemima syrup and Jamie almost breaking up with you on the spot, Canadians were so dramatic- the two of you settled on the couch.

“I want to tell you something,” he says rubbing his hands on this thighs.

“What’s on your mind?” “I was really nervous about last night, so nervous I might have lied about the condom.”

“What? Why?”

“Don’t be mad, I just didn’t want mess things up because I really like you.” “I’m not mad. Why couldn’t you just tell me?” He shrugs, “I just chickened out. But if you're still willing to date me, then we can try this again.”

That’s how you end up on Jamie’s couch, the two of you kissing frantically as you try to remove each other's clothes. You’re sitting on his lap and you grind down on him to try and get any sort of friction.

“Jamie,” he acknowledges you with a soft mm, “condom?”

“Right,” he pulls it out from his pocket and opens the foil package. After he rolls it onto his dick you slowly lower yourself onto him. You moan when you bottom out, he was bigger than anyone else you’ve ever had and you were going to need time to adjust.

“You good?” Jamie asks sneaking a hand in between the two of you, rubbing your clit. He uses the other hand to gently pinch your nipple.

You nod frantically, “Harder.”

“What?”

“Pinch me harder,” you pant. He does so simultaneously speeding up the hand that’s on your clit causing you to let out a yelp.

You start to lift yourself off his deck, so just the tip is inside you, then you drop yourself down again, moaning as you do so. Jamie’s breath hitches and he moves his hand to your other breast.

“Jamie,” you moan, “you feel so fucking good.”

His hands eventually hold your hips and all of a sudden your being flipped over so your back is on the cold leather of his couch. His he thrusts into you with a newfound boldness, and you can no longer hold back your moans. Each thrust pulls whimpers from your mouth. Soon you’re being pushed over the edge, your mind reeling in your orgasm bliss. Jamie’s now erratic thrusts causing extra shockwaves of pleasure to be sent throughout your body. Jamie calls out your name as he cums, spilling into the condom.

“You still nervous, James?”

#nhl imagine #nhl smut #hockey writing #hockey oneshot #hockey smut #jamie benn #jamie benn imagine #stars #mine

[fortherisingsun]

Top: flat colours

Bottom: scanned/adjusted lineart

Medium: .5 mm and .3 mm technical pencils on 8”x8” smooth multi-media paper, colours done on an iPad Pro with an Apple pencil in Procreate.

So -- this drawing took me way too long. I started it probably 6 months ago, and have been chipping doggedly away at it, despite the fact that I wanted to abandon it several times. The truth of the matter is that I used to draw all the time -- like ALL the time -- and somewhere along the way I just stopped. I’ve been doing my noodle-doodles on and off over the last couple years, but I hadn’t produced anything that challenged me or let me indulge of my love for teeny tiny details on clothing. Anyway - when I started actually getting on to tumblr again after a long break, I stumbled on @luwha’s art and was absolutely floored. Their lineart is so crisp and clean, their colours are beautifully executed, and their art exudes an animated joy that charms and delights me. The long and the short of it is, looking at their stuff made me want to start making my own art again, and this drawing is the result of that. I had to erase so many times with things like their hands and various bits of clothing and things that I was afraid I was going to start rubbing away the paper, but I didn’t want to give it up. Honestly, I’m really glad that I didn’t, and I’m really glad that I’m drawing more often now. So thanks, @luwha, for giving me the inspiration to really pick up my pencil again. (Also, happy birthday!!) Also, if y’all wanna see all the stupid tiny details, open the image in a new window. Tumblr’s format is terrible. :(

OH -- the characters in the drawing! The shorter one in blue is my human archmage (frost, yo!), Celune ( @sconesandsorcery ). The taller character in the back is her 16-year old daughter and apprentice, Eleanor. They are here to be badasses and hold staves, both of which are integral parts of magery. 

#My art #Celune #Eleanor #World of Warcraft #Original characters #frost mage #archmage #pencil art #flat colours #storytime

[softboywriting]

Summer Heat

Hello, I’m extremely new to this fandom. I used to write a lot of fics, blurbs, imagines and what not for the one direction fandom but had since moved on from that. Really it’s a long story of how I ended up here. But please enjoy, I’ll continue if y’all really like it.

Synopsis: A fic where you and Shawn are camp councilors and you hate his guts. Sexual tension ensues. 

Part 1 (you are here)

Part 2

Part 3

____________________________________________________

This was hell. Officially hell. It feels like fire burning through your veins and settling in your stomach. He makes you so angry, just the sight of him makes you want to throw something. He’s got that fucking smirk on his face, knowing how he affects you. You look away, he doesn’t. It’s the first day of summer camp and you can't believe he is even here.

You signed up to be a councilor ages ago, before school was even over. You knew it was what you wanted to do with your summer to make a few extra dollars before starting college in the fall. The work was easy enough, make sure the kids don’t die and have fun and the kids were always a joy to work with. You had gone to this camp as a child and it held fond memories, aside from the hell spawn that was currently standing a few feet away from you.

Shawn Mendes.

Since grade three he’s been your arch nemesis. You grew up only a few houses apart, went to the same schools, attended the same classes until high school and went to this camp every other summer. In high school you only had to share five of your eight classes with him, for four years, which was just the worst and honestly what were the chances of that anyway.

The thing about Shawn is that he seems like this sweet do good boy. he’s handsome, smart, athletic and would literally give you the shirt off his back if you asked. But that wasn’t the Shawn you know. Oh no. The Shawn you know would tug your braids and get you in trouble for talking to, no, scolding him in elementary school. Without a doubt you would always get in trouble, not him. No. He was the prized student, the apple of every teacher's eye, and of course nobody ever saw him do it. So you would look like a liar every time you said he pulled your hair or took your pencil, or he hid your backpack. The guy was invisible to everyone but you it seemed.

In high school he was the worst. He shot up about a foot, filled out very nicely and had girls going gaga over him every couple minutes. As much as it killed you, you couldn’t help but notice these changes. It was sickening to watch him smile at those girls and lead them on with flirty winks and cheeky grins. Absolutely disgusting. But what was more disgusting was how his teasing of you evolved. He was long past braid pulling and pencil thieving. Oh that was just too easy, too expected by then.

No. He would do something else. Embarrass you. Shawn’s favorite tactic to tick you off was holding hands. He would sneak up beside you or behind you in the crowded halls during passing periods and grab your hand, threading his fingers with yours and holding tight. You would tug your hand away, call him some foul name, and he would laugh. Of course people would notice this gesture and of course the girls who had the hots for him would come to you day after day asking if you were dating. To which you would vehemently reply a stern, “No, he is disgusting, I hate him.”

His other favorite teasing tactic was note passing. Better yet, note passing very obviously as to get caught and have the teacher read what was written as consequence. Of course you never wrote him any notes, but he would write the note for you, and write his reply after it before ‘passing it’ and getting it caught. The first time it happened in sophomore year you denied writing the note and even compared your handwriting to his imitation of yours. They were no match and Shawn got in trouble. By junior year, he had managed to mimic your handwriting and contesting the validity of the note via handwriting went out the door.

Senior year was the worst. it seemed that you couldn’t avoid him at all. He made friends with your friends, sat at your lunch table, kicking your feet beneath the table for a solid half an hour everyday while you glared at him. He would steal your homework for your classes together and then pull it out after you realized you didn’t have it, announcing loudly that you had left it at his house last night. He was just insufferable.

Insufferable until you blew up at him in the middle of the lunch room on the last week of school. Something in you snapped and you laid into him, getting yourself in a world of trouble that you talked your way out of, chalking it up to stress about finals and college selection. After that day, he didn’t so much as show his face around you, not even at graduation did he try to bother you. Nope, nothing happened and two weeks passed before you went to the camp to work for the summer. Not once did he prank call your house or knock on your bedroom window at an ungodly hour, absolutely nothing happened.

In those two weeks you felt bad. You shouldn't have, he deserved the blow up he got, but part of you missed him in a stupid, sick to your stomach kind of way. At first you wrote it off as it just being the sudden change in your daily life, the quietness. It wasn’t that though. You knew it wasn’t. You actually missed him. The way he smiled too big, the way he laughed at your annoyance. How his hand was so damn big when it wrapped around yours, and always really warm. Why was his hands so fucking warm? You came to the realization that maybe you didn’t hate him. Maybe...maybe he was trying to get your attention in some stupid way but you were so hell bent on being frigid to him, you couldn't see that before.

So here you stand, feet apart from each other and seeing his face is giving you a burning feeling of annoyance mixed with fondness in your stomach. He hasn’t spoken to you, or you to him. You don’t even know why he’s here. You can only assume he got wind that you were going to be working there all summer, and he just couldn’t leave you alone.

The camp director, Ms. Miller, is assigning cabin numbers and you hear your name called. You’re the last to be assigned and you hadn’t been listening so you don’t even know who your cabin companions will be. “Cabin 15, Bear Cabin.” You're elated, but also confused. It’s the farthest cabin from the main hall, close to the lake and very quiet. It’s usually only used for meetings and if the senior councilors want a break from everyone.

Before you can ask why Cabin 15 is being used, the director keeps talking. Turns out you weren’t the last to be assigned a cabin. “Shawn Mendes, Cabin 15, Bear Cabin”

Your heart sinks, face pales and you look at him. Hes grinning like an idiot, like he can’t believe his luck. Surely, some god somewhere in the world was having a laugh right now. There was no way you would be bunked with him. Besides, coed pairings weren’t allowed.

You go to protest but the camp director cuts you off, holding a hand up as she speaks, “It’s unusual to have a coed cabin pairing, but we had no choice due to overbooked campers needing three of our councilor cabins for the summer. You will notice cabins 12, 13 and 14 are all housing three councilors at this time, the maximum allowed by park regulations. There will be no fraternizing allowed in the coed cabin. If word gets to me that there is relations going on in that cabin, you will both be sent home.”

Shawn steps forward, you pray he is going to say something to get himself booted right then and there, but he doesn’t. Instead he says, “Ms.Miller, I would never fraternize with my co-counselor. How could I do such a thing and leave our group of campers with no one to lead them. You have my word.”   

Ms. Miller buys his huge grin and charming words as she takes his hand and shakes it. It’s not until he turns away, walking toward you that he licks his lower lip, taking it between his teeth as he looks you over. There was no way in hell he was laying a finger on you. No way in hell. But then again, this was hell.

#shawn mendes #shawn mendes fic #shawn mendes imagine #shawn mendes writing #summer heat #my fic

[8bityeol]

Enunciate [m]

Smut  // How does one function upon knowing that their next door neighbour, Citrus134 (Kyungsoo) is the audio porn star of their dreams?

Follow up to Audiophile

So, what is the first thing you do when you've discovered that your new neighbour posts audio porn online? You lie back on your back and plug your earphones in then go through all of his audios...all of them. You listen to his breaths, laughs and groans over and over until they're imprinted into your mind. that's what you do.

Then you imagined him. You imagined his plump lips clamped between his teeth as he stifles a groan. You imagined his bare chest rising up and down as he tried to suck as much air as he could. You imagined his black hair sticking to his forehead after he spends 10 minutes edging.

In the week that Citrus - wait, should you call him Kyungsoo? Well, in the week that Kyungsoo hadn't posted you just about been able to go about your days. You'd often find yourself trying to dodge him although the task was proving quite difficult considering he just about appeared at every damn corner.  

"Ah, Kyungsoo," you said as you watched him hurtling through the glass doors with an umbrella in one hand and groceries in the other.

He looked up and smiled at you, and might you add, his smile was glorious. It was almost easy, breezy Covergirl material.

"Hey neighbour," He said, looking you up and down, "You've just come home?"

"Yeah, uh, work was hectic," you said, staring down at your rain speckled pencil skirt. "And you've just come back from doing the groceries, at midnight?"

He cleared his throat. "It's the best time to go, there’s less people around," he said. "I like to be able to hear my own thoughts you know."

You nodded, "I see what you mean."

"So, are you getting in the lift?" he asked, "We might as well ride together."

Now, that was something you hadn't thought off.

"Sure," you said.

Being that you were the nearest, you pressed the call button. There was a comfortable silence between the both of you as you waited for a ding and the doors to open. When those two incidents did occur you both stepped inside the lift.

"Floor two for me," you said.

He snorted, "We're on the same floor. Did you forget I was your neighbour, guess I wasn't that impressionable."

You face was flushed with a surge of heat as you watched him press floor two. "Guess I wasn't really thinking."

"Watch, we'll be stuck now," He said.

"Oh, I hope not," you said smiling up at him. "I don't think the emergency call button in here works."  

"Yikes, but at least we get good signal," he said. "My last place had the shittest signal ever, it took eons just to post one thing."

Amidst your conversation, you heard a beep and the doors opening.  "Ah, we're here, on floor two."

Next Day

Being that Kyungsoo consumed most of your thoughts, you find yourself scrolling through his profile, constantly refreshing the page, waiting for a new post.

"Come on Citrus," you mumbled to yourself as you poured yourself a glass of apple juice.

On your fifth try, you noticed an unclicked link citing: A welcome home audio.

"Surely..." You'd begun.

You grabbed at your earphones and pressed play.

The audio started with a low sigh. "I'm back, and I'm in my new apartment and things are going well. so, of course, it's time to post an audio! Being that I haven't had time to read a script or anything like that, it'll be a normal one but I will indulge you in my new fantasy. It's nothing too freaky but...well...the person in mind would probably think it is."

You heard the pop of lube in the background.

"Alright, I have this neighbour...she's really fucking hot. Fucking cliche huh?" he said. "And of course I keep thinking about her, and the things i would do to her. I know, I'm a perv."

You could feel your mouth becoming dry as he continued talking.

"But...ah, if you could only see her. Last night, I came into my little lobby thing and she was there, wearing this pencil skirt that should really be illegal...fuck...my cocks just twitching thinking about it," he said with a moan at the end of the sentence. "Just to make go even crazier, I rode the elevator with her and all I could think about was the lift breaking down."

"My hand would be travelling up her legs and over the tight ass skirt so I  could feel her ass her in my hand. Her lips would be all over my neck, whispering dirty little nothings into my ears as I unzipped her skirt," he said. "But that's all elevator stuff, what I really want is to have her on my bed."

"God...this feel so good," he groaned. "I want to feel her legs, rub my hands all over them and kiss them...ha, confession time, we were walking to our doors but i walked slower just so i could watch her ass."

Your face flushed, did he watch your ass...or could he be talking about someone else? Stupid, of course, he was talking about you.  You wanted to scream into the pillow but you simply couldn't tear your focus from his voice.

He audibly swallowed. "Back to my fantasy. So we're on the bed, and I've shimmed her out of that skirt. Her plump breasts are spilling out of her bra and of course I flick her taunt nipple with my tongue, maybe suck them for a bit," he said. "Then I'd kiss my way down her chest, to her stomach and only stopping at the lace trim of her underwear."

He chuckled to himself and then drew a sharp breath. Beneath the groans, You could hear him quickening his pace. "M-my fingers would caress her panties, and her wetness would be seeping through the fabric...literally begging me for a taste."

"I'd be mad to decline. So, I'd take those panties off and just got at it. Lick that perfect pussy until she starts pulling at my hair and screaming my name...fuck!" his voice had become scratchy, and his breathing was loud.  "Oh god...fuck, I don't think you know what I'd give to just taste her, and have her juices running down my mouth."

"Hmm..." He had his lips between in mouth, you could tell. "Fuck..fuck...I'm."

You had to suppress yourself from fainting as you heard a stream of groans and grunts coming from him. There was something powerful about hearing him coming undone to the thought of you.  And he was right there, behind that wall, ever so oblivious to the fact that the girl of his latest session was listening and thinking about him too. It was though you'd taken the strongest drug known to mankind.

"Ahh..so...I hope you all liked that," he said. "I really needed to come, it's been like five days since I came so yeah, it was kinda explosive. Right, I need to uh, clean this up. Thanks for listening guys!"

The audio had ended ten minutes ago and you were still in the same position, staring up at the ceiling and unable to process anything. "Damn," you muttered.

You lifted yourself from your bed and slipped on the nearest pair of jeans you could find. You need to talk to Kyungsoo. And so, you left the apartment and walked to the next one over. You pressed the bell and waited for a moment till you heard the beep of the intercom and Kyungsoo voice.

"Oh, it's you. Let me just open up," he said.

With a few clicks and beeps, Kyungsoo cracked the door open. His torso was draped in a black and white sweater paired with sweatpants. Sitting gracefully on his neck were a headset, maybe for games, you thought.

"Hi,  sorry were you in the middle of something?" you asked, pointing at his headset.

He looked down at them and shook his head, "No, not really. I was just playing around, so what brings you here?"

"Well, I wanted to talk...probably ask you about something."

A/N

AHHHHHHH, well here’s that follow up y’all asked me for!

#kyungsoo smut #exo smut #kpop smut #kyungsoo scenario #kyungsoo one shot #exo oneshot #kyungsoo fanfic