#Wheat Suit

[elvispresleywife]

Ahhh just another one of my personal favorites from 1972.

The Wheat Suit was first worn in 1972, and was worn in one of his famous Madison Square Garden Performances if you didn't already know. It was also worn again in 1973 and this warms my heart greatly, Elvis personally gave this suit to Dotti Rambo in February 1973 as a birthday present! AWWWW💗💗💗💗💗💗.

Now it's time to appreciate the way it looks on him. I just LOVE the way the blue makes his hair and once again the tan of his skin so much more evident and beautiful! Like OH MY GOODNESS!! Not to mention the absolute colour match to his eyes they just stand out. I need to stop before I make everyone cringe or something but I'M IN ACTUAL LOVE! 💗💗💗🥵🥵💗💗

Love you baby forever and always!!💗💗💗

[khepritheshepri]

I’m back from my holiday and back to posting! I hope everyone has had a good few weeks!

[misfortune-plays-love-nikki]

I'm finally back! And... Don't get mad at me, but I'm kinda sorta considering changing my persona lol. I don't think I'll go back through and put the new one in all the outfits, but I just might 👀 I'll probably also finish dressing up this avatar first, tho

[lovekia]

[shithitsmynipples]

The ramen place up the street has gluten free noodles god fuckin bless

[incognit0slut]

Tempting the Cowboy

Summary: The team has been trying to bring Spencer back to the BAU after he hung up his badge to live on his ranch peacefully. It’s a good thing you’ll do whatever it takes to persuade him, even if the rugged cowboy wants to bend you over in the barn.

warnings: (MDNI, 18+) softdom spence, nipple play, handjob, fingering, female and male oral, semi-public sex

word count: 6k (i had too much fun, okay?)

a/n: This is such a random plot. Cowboy spence seemed so impossible, but then again, so did prison reid and look what happened.

Never in a million years would you ever have thought that a certified genius with an IQ of 187, after fifteen years of dedicated service to the FBI, would change career paths and settle down in the countryside. Yet here you were, driving to the middle of nowhere, trying to find that man.

The GPS led you down dusty backroads, past fields of golden wheat and weathered barns until finally, you arrived at his ranch. The scent of hay and the distant sound of cattle filled the air as you stepped out of the car and you couldn't help but feel out of place.

Your usual black pants and fitted blouse seemed like a striking contrast to your surroundings, especially with the sleek boots on your feet. Adjusting your shirt, you finally approached the farmhouse, the gravel crunch beneath your feet echoed with every step you took.

A group of men caught your eyes as they emerged from a weathered barn at the end of the road, and you found yourself approaching them instead. Clearing your throat, you called out to them.

"Excuse me, gentlemen," you began, "I'm looking for Spencer Reid. Is he around?"

The men exchanged knowing glances before one of them, a weathered cowboy with a straw hat shading his face, spoke up.

"You must be lookin' for the doc," he said, nodding towards the stable. "He's over there tendin' to the horses. You can't miss 'im."

With a grateful nod, you followed their directions. Nerves fluttered in your stomach as you walked into the stable, unsure of what to expect from the man who had once been your colleague but now seemed like a stranger in this unfamiliar setting.

As you pushed open the creaking door, the scent of leather and hay washed over you. Inside, you finally spotted him, his back turned as he tended to a horse in the corner of the room. His familiar profile was a stark contrast to the rugged surroundings, and for a moment, it felt surreal to see him in this new role.

Gone were the suits or knitted cardigans; instead, he was clad in well-worn denim and leather that gave him a distinctly different, yet undeniably attractive appearance. His sleeves were rolled up, showcasing the definition in his arms and a cowboy hat was perched on his head, its brim casting a shadow over his features, while his tousled hair peeked out from beneath it.

It was a side of him you had never seen before—one that seemed more at peace, more connected to the land than the city. And as you watched him work, the soft murmur of his voice filling the room as he spoke soothingly to the horse he was gently brushing, you couldn't help but feel a tinge of guilt knowing you were going to ruin his peace.

As if sensing another presence in the room, he suddenly turned his head before his gaze fell on you. A genuine smile curled at the corner of your lips as you approached him. "Howdy, cowboy."

A hint of surprise flashed in his eyes as he straightened himself, which was quickly replaced with realization at your sudden visit.

"I was wondering when they'd send you here," he remarked, his tone a mixture of amusement and resignation. You returned his smile, the tension in your shoulders easing slightly at his familiar demeanor.

"I guess today is your lucky day." Your eyes scanned the rustic surroundings of his ranch, taking in the simplicity of his new life. "Well, this is quite the change of scenery."

He chuckled softly, a hint of pride in his tone as he gestured around the farmhouse. "It's definitely a far cry from the city," he admitted. "But it suits me."

"It does seem like you've found your place here. It's... different, but in a good way."

Spencer's smile widened at your words "It is different, and I like it here," he agreed. "Which is why I'm going to say no to whatever reason you're here."

You raised an eyebrow. "I haven't even said anything."

"You didn't have to, everyone else has already said their piece." He turned and focused his attention back on his horse. "And the answer is still no."

You silently studied him as he finished his task. He was right; your other teammates had already been here before you, trying to coax him back to the BAU. But you couldn't help but feel a sense of determination rise within you. Spencer Reid might be a stubborn cowboy now, but you knew deep down that his brilliant mind belonged with the team.

But knowing no one else could crack his stubbornness, you knew you needed a different approach and the only way you could think of was to reel him in with his current interest. "He's beautiful," you acknowledged, nodding towards the horse he was working on. "What's his name?"

"She's beautiful," he corrected. "And her name is Mildred."

The name didn't sound foreign to you. "You must really have something sentimental with that name. Didn't you name one of your mugs Mildred?"

He tipped his head back. "You remembered?"

"Of course, I do," you replied with a grin. "I remember a lot about you, even if we didn't have much time getting to know each other."

The memories of your time at the BAU flooded back. The way you joined the team right before Spencer had decided to take a break, which had turned out to be more permanent than anyone had anticipated. Although it was hard to forget a guy like him. You remembered when your eyes first fell on him and how your heart fluttered at his awkward yet charming smile.

There was something about him, something magnetic and intriguing that drew you in from the very beginning. It was a pity he had to leave shortly after you joined the team because you swore your admiration wasn't one-sided, but with Spencer gone, any hope of exploring those feelings had faded away.

As you stood before him now, you couldn't help but study how different he was yet still managed to look the same. The rugged cowboy attire he now wore seemed worlds away from the suit and tie he had once donned as a profiler, yet there was a familiarity to his features that remained unchanged.

But one thing was for sure, despite the time and distance of not seeing him, you were still attracted to Spencer Reid.

"I remember a lot about you too."

You laughed. "That's because you have an eidetic memory." Spencer simply flashed you a sheepish grin, his eyes crinkling at the corners. You slowly took a step forward towards him. "Can I touch her?"

He nodded, gesturing towards Mildred. "Go ahead. She's quite friendly."

You approached the horse cautiously, extending your hand to stroke her mane gently. Mildred nuzzled against your palm, her warm breath tickling your skin. A sense of calm washed over you as you felt the gentle rhythm of her breathing.

Spencer watched you with a soft smile, his gaze warm and reassuring. "She likes you," he remarked, his voice low and soothing.

You smiled back. "I like her too," you replied, your fingers trailing along Mildred's soft fur. Then your eyes glanced over to him and the gears in your head started to move. You needed to act as stealthy as possible. "So... how fast can horses go? In general?"

His smile widened at your question. "Well, it depends on various factors like breed, training, and terrain," he began, falling into his familiar role as an educator. "On average, horses can reach speeds of around 25 to 30 miles per hour, but some breeds can go even faster, reaching speeds of up to 40 miles per hour."

You nodded, absorbing the information as you continued stroking Mildred's fur while keeping your true intentions hidden behind a facade of innocent curiosity. "Are mammals usually that fast?"

"Actually, yes," he replied. "While horses are known for their impressive speed, they're not the only mammals capable of reaching high velocities."

"...how about bulls?"

Spencer raised an eyebrow, his curiosity piqued by your sudden interest in bulls. "Bulls?" he echoed, studying you intently.

You met his gaze, trying to appear nonchalant. "Yeah, bulls."

He continued to scrutinize you, his sharp intellect picking up on your evasive behavior. Spencer may not work as a profiler anymore, but he could tell when someone had ulterior motives.

"Alright, what is it?" he finally asked, crossing his arms.

You sighed, trying not to focus on the way his arms flexed at the movement, and took another step towards him. If you were going to convince him to return to the BAU, you needed to be honest with him. "Well, you see, the current case we're working on is... it's a bit unusual."

Spencer's curiosity was piqued, his interest evident in how he leaned in slightly, waiting for you to continue.

"Three victims were found dead under suspicious circumstances," you explained, choosing your words carefully. "The strange part is, all three victims were found with injuries consistent with being trampled by bulls."

"Trampled by bulls?" he repeated, disbelief coloring his voice.

"It sounds bizarre, I know. There have been reports of aggressive behavior from a nearby ranch, and the local authorities suspect that the deaths may be connected to the bulls on the property. But the thing is, the autopsies showed that it might not even be caused by any type of animal."

"And you want me to help with the investigation," he summarized.

"We could certainly use your help," you admitted, hoping that he would see the significance of his involvement.

Spencer fell silent for a moment, his gaze distant as he considered your words. Then, without saying another word, he turned on his heels and began to walk towards another part of the stable, a hidden corner shrouded in shadows. Your heart sank as you watched him move away.

"I don't think I'm the person you should be looking for."

You followed him, determined not to let him slip away without a fight. "You're exactly the person we should be looking for! With that smart brain of yours and your knowledge of farm animals, we could profile the Unsub in no time."

His steps faltered momentarily as your words reached him, but he didn't turn back to face you. Instead, he continued walking, his silhouette fading into the shadows of the stable.

"I appreciate the sentiment," he called back over his shoulder, his voice tinged with resignation, "But I'm not sure I'm the right fit for this anymore."

"Reid," you called after him, quickening your pace to catch up. "Please, just hear me out."

"Y/n," he warned dangerously low. The way he spoke your name affected you more than you'd like to admit. You cautiously took a step forward.

"Do you know how long it took me to do a geographical profile of the crime scenes? Or how Alvez spent two nights going through stacks of documents when you would've finished it in like an hour?" You let out a sigh. "It's so different without you, we miss you."

He slightly faltered at your words again but remained quiet, so you tried again.

"We could really use your help, Spence, at least on this case. The team needs you." You watched him try to do some other task as if trying to ignore you. "I need you."

He remained silent for a moment longer, the only sound the soft shuffle of his boots against the stable floor. Then, slowly, he turned to face you, and there was a subtle shift in his expression, a flicker of something unreadable in his eyes.

"...you need me?"

You faltered for a moment, taken aback by his unexpected question. The room seemed to shrink around you, the walls closing in as you became hyper-aware of the proximity between the two of you. Your gaze involuntarily flickered over every detail of his face, taking in the curve of his stubble jaw, the flecks of gold in his brown eyes, and the lines etched on his brow.

You also noticed his lips. Those damn kissable lips, pressed together in a thin line as he waited for your response. You found yourself inexplicably drawn to them, a surge of desire coursing through you at the mere thought of what it would feel like to press your own against them.

Shaking yourself from your inappropriate thoughts, you forced your gaze back to his eyes, feeling your cheeks flush with embarrassment at where your mind had wandered. You swallowed hard, feeling a lump form in your throat.

"Yes," you finally replied, your voice barely above a whisper. "I-I need you."

As the words left your lips, a heavy silence fell upon the room. You could feel his eyes on you, his gaze intense and searching, as if he were trying to interpret the depth of your confession. For a moment, neither of you spoke, and you could hear the sound of your heartbeat echoing in your ears, the rhythm erratic and unsteady.

"And you missed me?"

You held his gaze. While your words might not have been an outright confession, it wasn't exactly a lie, and there was no reason to deny the truth.

"I missed you," you admitted, your voice sounding more breathless than you intended. He smiled. Then, slowly, he reached out, his fingers gently brushing against your cheek. His touch sent a shiver down your spine, the warmth of it searing through you like a flame.

"Fine, I'll help you," he whispered, his voice barely audible in the stillness of the room. "On one condition."

Your heart skipped a beat, anticipation coursing through your veins as you waited for him to continue. His gaze held yours, unwavering and intense. You could feel the weight of his scrutiny, from your wide eyes to the slope of your nose, before lingering on your lips. For a moment, there was silence, broken only by the sound of your shallow breaths. Then he finally spoke.

"Be honest with me," he responded, his fingers tracing a gentle path along your jawline, "Do you need my help with the case or do you need me for something else?"

You met his gaze, searching for the right words to express the truth of your intentions. "Both," you admitted after a pause, your voice barely above a whisper. "I need your help with the case, but I also... need you."

A satisfied smile curled on his lips as he gently cupped your cheek, pulling you closer. But just as you thought he would close the distance between your lips, he paused, his warm breath teasing against your skin. His next question hung in the air between you, a challenge and an invitation wrapped into one.

"Tell me what you need me for then."

Your breath caught in your throat as his lips hovered tantalizingly close to yours. "I-I need you to kiss me," you breathed, your voice barely above a whisper, your words tinged with urgency and desire. "Please."

His gaze darkened. "I never took you as one to beg," he remarked, his voice laced with a hint of amusement. "But I must admit, I quite like it."

Then slowly, almost hesitantly, he closed the remaining distance between you, his lips brushing against yours in a feather-light touch. You could still feel the smile playing on his lips, but only briefly before he moved them slowly, capturing every curve of your soft lips.

He swiped his tongue along your bottom lip, holding your jaw in place. His hand cradled your face, holding you gently but firmly, while his other hand explored your body. It trailed down your back, sending shivers of anticipation coursing through you, before settling on your hip. You gasped at the sudden contact and he seized the opportunity to deepen the kiss, his tongue delving deeper.

With a boldness that surprised even yourself, you wrapped your hands around his neck, pulling him closer. Your fingers tangled in his hair, knocking off his hat onto the floor before tugging lightly at the roots, eliciting a low moan from him that vibrated against your lips.

What had started as gently molding your lips together turned into a passionate dance of tongues, leaving you moaning and breathless. He slowly pulled away, his eyes slamming shut as his forehead met yours, both of you gasping for air while you tried to regain your composure. His breath mingled with yours, a heady mix of desire and need, as he spoke in a ragged voice.

"You," he gasped, his words laced with raw intensity, "Taste better than I imagined."

Your head was spinning. How could he consume you with just a kiss? You had dreamed of this moment, of being close to him, but you never imagined it would affect you as deeply as it did now.

"Do you even realize," He pressed on, his voice low with pent-up longing. "How much I've wanted to do this?"

Your head was swimming in a haze of desire as his lips trailed along your jawline, sending shivers down your spine. "Yeah?" you breathed out, barely able to form coherent thoughts.

He nodded against your neck. "Ever since I saw you."

"Wh-Why didn't you say anything?" you managed to stammer out, the words barely audible amidst the dizzying sensation of his lips on your skin.

"Wasn't sure you felt the same way."

You took a moment to process his words, the warmth of his breath against your skin adding to the whirlwind of sensations coursing through you. "You should've said something, it would make this whole convincing you a lot easier."

He paused, his lips leaving a trail of soft kisses along your neck. "I don't know," he finally murmured. "I think I need a little more persuading."

His words sent a jolt of desire coursing through you, igniting a fire that burned hotter with each passing moment. You swallowed hard, trying to gather your thoughts amidst the intoxicating sensation of his lips on your skin.

"I can persuade you in other ways."

Spencer lifted his head, his gaze meeting yours. "Then show me," he breathed, his voice thick with desire.

There was no room for hesitation. You leaned in, capturing his lips with yours in a desperate, passionate kiss, fully aware of the risk of being caught, but his mouth on your body felt too good to care. It wasn't like you hadn't fantasized about this exact moment, about the feel of his mouth on your body, the way his hands would explore every inch of you with a hunger that mirrored your own.

His hands found your hips, pushing you to the nearest wall before his fingers fumbled with the buttons on your blouse. It was clear you both decided that the risk was well worth the wait.

"May I?" He asked, his fingers still working on your front buttons.

You laughed amusedly. "You already are."

His response was a chuckle of his own before he buried his head in your neck again. The opening in the front of your shirt chilled your body, sending goosebumps all along your skin as his hands caressed over your lacy, black bra covering your breasts, thumbing your hardened nipples.

He leaned further down, trailing his lips over your cleavage, before sucking softly on the spot. The sensation made you gasp, knowing well enough that there would be marks left behind, but you didn't care. Wanting to give more to him, you reached out between your bodies and pulled down your bra, granting him more access to your skin.

His eyes drank in the sight before him hungrily. He gently rubbed against the small pebbles on your chest, wetting his lips as he did, eyes completely trained on them now. Without warning he surged forward, tongue darting out to lick a long, flat stripe against one of your nipples. You let out a surprised moan at the action, fingers tugging at his hair tightly and head tilting back before snapping down to look at him.

A choked moan left your lips as he continued sucking, licking, twirling his tongue around it while playing with the other with his hand. "Spence..." you whined, your voice sounding clear in the room.

"Shh," he mumbled against your skin. "Keep your voice down."

You nodded helplessly as he released your nipple before wrapping his lips around the other one, giving the same attention. He repeated the motion, rolling your wet nipple under his calloused palm, having you arch your back and push your chest into his face. He didn't have to be told twice, immediately giving it a hard suck while pinching the other one.

The sensation traveled along your body before it lowered between your thighs, forming an ache the second his hand trailed down your stomach. His fingers finally found the hem of your pants, before dipping underneath the material, slipping right underneath your panties. Your breath hitched when two of his long fingers slide between your folds, spreading your slick before finding its rightful place on your clit.

"You're so wet," he whispered in a daze, trailing his lips back up your collarbone. He couldn't believe how drenched you already were. "All this for me?"

You nodded, gasping when he stroked up and down your folds, coating his fingers with your arousal. Your hips buckled against his touch and he didn't hesitate when he started rubbing your clit, feeling your body writhe under him. A sudden pressure of his fingers sent pleasure shooting through you, and your head fell back to the wall, mouth agape, face flushed.

But before you could relish the pleasure, he suddenly pulled his hand out of your pants before tugging you, urging you to follow him. As he led you deeper into the stable, your heart raced with anticipation. You followed him silently, feeling a rush of excitement as he pulled you behind the stacks of hay, sheltering the two of you from prying eyes.

The rustling of the hay beneath you echoed in the room as he pulled you closer, his touch igniting a fire within you as you pressed your hands on his chest. With trembling hands, you began to undo the buttons of his shirt, and his gaze never left yours, his breath coming in shallow gasps.

As your fingertips brushed along his skin, you felt the warmth radiating from his body, his chest rising and falling with each breath. He wasn't muscular in the conventional sense, but there was a lean strength to him that was undeniably attractive. Your fingers continued their journey downward, skimming lightly over the softness of his stomach before teasing along the line of hair that trailed further down.

Your hands found their way to the buckle of his belt, fingers deftly working to undo it. He made no move to stop you as his gaze remained fixed on you. There was a hunger in his eyes, urging you for more, yet he remained patient, allowing you to take the lead. And then you tugged down his denim, not much than an inch but enough for you to pull his cock out.

He was warm and achingly hard, and a low, guttural sound escaped his lips as his hips bucked into your palm. His eyes fluttered closed momentarily, a shudder passing through him as he surrendered to the sensation. You looked up at him through your lashes, the corner of your lips quirked up in a smirk.

"Shh," you whispered, echoing his words. "Keep your voice down."

He chuckled softly, eyes meeting yours. "You're enjoying this, aren't you?"

"Not as much as you are."

You proved your point by tugging his cock harder, pumping up and down his length. His head fell back, his breath coming out in ragged gasps as he fought to stifle his moans. You couldn't help but find it endearing, the way he struggled to keep quiet, his brows creasing in concentration. It was a pity, really, because you liked hearing the raw, unfiltered sounds of his pleasure.

You swiped your thumb along the tip of his cock, gathering the slickness before rubbing it along his length. His head snapped down to look between you, his eyes taking in the way you quickened your pace, pumping him in your hand. A sense of urgency overwhelmed him the moment your tongue darted out to wet your bottom lip, and he leaned in, shoving his own tongue into your mouth.

The way your fingers gripped his cock had him moaning into the kiss which you happily accepted. As he felt that familiar knot tightening in his stomach, he knew he had to act quickly. With a gasp, he pulled away from the kiss, his chest heaving with ragged breaths as he reached between you to halt your movements. With a sense of urgency, he shrugged off his shirt and laid it carefully on the stack of hay behind you.

"Turn around," was all he said as he pushed down his pants to uncover himself, leaving you empty for the moment.

You obliged, turning while gripping the hem of your pants and slipping them down your legs. Without hesitation, you pushed your panties down before kicking them off, giving him the perfect view of your soaked slit. It didn't take long for him to drop onto the floor, his hands running along the back of your thighs.

"Look at you." He leaned closer, his breath brushing your damp skin. "Aren't you a pretty little thing?"

You leaned forward and arched your back at his words, earning a deep, low sound of approval from him. One of his hands gripped your ass, slowly kneading your supple skin as his other hand grabbed onto your right leg, hiking it over the stack of hay. He had a better view of your wetness in this position, and you bit down your lips when you felt his fingers brush over your entrance.

A finger slipped inside you, then two, and when he started to pump them in and out of your tight walls, you pressed yourself further onto the stack of hay underneath you, trying to hold yourself back from making too much noise. Your arousal dripped from your core to coat his fingers and he was mesmerized by how eager your body was for him, how your hips rocked back against his hand.

But you needed more. His touch, his warmth, his presence—it wasn't enough. Your body ached for him, every nerve alive with desire.

"Please..." you breathlessly begged him, wanting to feel him inside of you, wanting him to rid your body of the tension, of the ache between your legs. Your jaw slacked open when you felt his mouth press against your clit before giving a slight suck.

"Tell me what you need," he ordered, breath deep and raspy and strained against your wet skin. He sucked onto your aching nub once again as his fingers continued to pump in and out of you. "And I'll give it to you."

"Please," you gasped, overwhelmed with the sudden force of his fingers and tongue between your legs and the pleasure that coursed through your body. "I w-want to f-feel you."

He pulled his fingers from within you, but his mouth was still exploring the wetness of your skin. His eager tongue worked wonders against your pussy, drawing out every second of pleasure as your hips rolled against his mouth. A whimper slipped from your lips as his tongue worked on your clit faster and you found yourself unable to contain yourself any longer.

"S-Spence..." You whined, not caring how desperate you sounded. All that mattered was your need for him. "Please..."

He placed a kiss on your swollen clit. "Be specific, baby, tell me what you need."

His endearment sent shivers down your spine, and you felt yourself spiraling further. Without hesitation, you begged shamelessly, "I-I want to feel y-your cock."

A low groan fell through his lips as he got off the floor, positioning himself behind you. "Say more words like that and I may lose the hint of self-control I have."

"I just—I just need you to fuck me," you didn't recognize the choke in your voice when you whined again.

He had no intention of protesting as he slipped between your legs, finally allowing you to feel just how hard you made him. For a moment, he pushed his hips toward you, grinding his cock against your folds, feeling your arousal soak his flesh.

"Is this what you wanted?" His hand gripped his cock to ease the tip over your entrance, pushing into you slowly, gasping when your walls clenched around him eagerly.

"Fuck, yes," was all you could manage to whimper, eyes screwing shut as he filled you up. And when you could barely stand anymore, becoming a quivering mess beneath him, he finally thrust deeper, pushing his hips against your body, earning a gasp with your mouth falling open.

"Oh my god." You could barely speak, barely form words, or even think as he pressed a hand to on your lower back, holding you in place as he dragged his cock out of you, only to ram himself back inside.

"Harder," you begged him, so breathless once again, "F-Faster."

He listened to you; he listened to the way your body moved against him, the way your walls tightened around his length. The way you stifled a moan and curse and huff anytime he thrust just right to have you pushing your hips back to him, your body trembling, shaking, and your legs nearly giving out because the pleasure became too much to bear.

"D-Don't stop." You had no shame in begging him. Not when he could make you feel so good, not when he was holding onto your hips as he continued to thrust into your dripping cunt.

"That's it," he encouraged, hips beginning to fall into a steady rhythm. "Tell me how good it feels. Beg me not to stop."

"So-so good," you babbled. "Don't—don't fucking stop."

He obliged your words by pushing apart your legs even further. Your face twisted in pleasure, so sensitive and overwhelmed as his hips smacked against your ass and he thrust himself harder into you. Sweat began to bead against his forehead once he pumped his cock into you harder, faster, earning every little whimper, even the ones you lacked the strength to release.

Thoughts of getting caught, of knowing anyone could walk in when he was buried deep inside you, left both of your minds. Neither of you cared when you were so wrapped up in one another. Not when you hiked your leg higher, allowing his cock to hit the spot that had you quivering in his hold when he slammed into you again.

Then he suddenly released his grip on your hips, slipping a hand between the two of you to press his fingers to your clit. The sudden increase in pleasure had you gasping in pure bliss. The room began to spin, air rushing to your head and the harder he fucked you, the deeper he thrust, and the faster his fingers rubbed against your clit, you knew you wouldn't be able to hold your sanity any longer.

He sensed your desperation in the way you gasped his name over and over again, and he thrust into you with more force than before. You tightened around him, squeezing him so damn hard he was tempted to lose all control right then, but he persisted in bringing your pleasure first. The sloppy sounds of your arousal coating his flesh filled the room, and with one, final thrust, you gasped before the pleasure finally consumed you.

He abruptly released your clit as he took hold of your hips again, keeping you in place while ruthlessly thrusting in and out through your bliss. His fingers pressed harder, drawing out every breathless moan, every strained whimper, every gasp of his name until your body grew too weak.

But he was far from done, slowing his hips to hit deep within your walls with aggressive thrusts, bringing his own high closer and closer as you whined from the overwhelming sensation, too sensitive, too far gone to handle much more, shuddering with every push of his cock within you.

"Where—" he groaned, your slick cunt too much for him, your juices drenching along his pelvis. "I'm close—"

You managed to snap your head over your shoulders. "Pull out, pull out."

You watched through fluttering lids as he gripped himself in his hand, and with trembling legs, you kneeled before him, gripped his cock in your hand, and took him fully in your mouth. He gritted his teeth at the sensation, sucking a breath in through his teeth as he felt your tongue dragging along his length.

You pushed further, hollowing your cheeks as you continued to swallow him down until the tip of his cock finally reached the back of your throat, nose pressed against his pelvis. He tipped his head back as you started to suck him, gagging around him when you felt him thrust his hips into you.

His eyes flicked down again at the sound only to find you looking up at him through your lashes. Spencer sucked in a sharp breath, before cradling your soft cheeks in both his large hands, and began thrusting his cock in and out of your mouth. Obscene noises filled the room as he continued to use you, tears welling at your lids and saliva building at your lips, seeping down your chin.

He continued to pump himself into your mouth, slowly starting to lose control, getting so lost in how warm your lips were wrapped around him. His jaw fell open as he released a final groan, brows creasing and eyes screwed shut, thrusting so deep before the first shot of his release filled your mouth.

Then a few more shots followed and you swallowed every drop down your throat as he continued to look at you in wonder. His breath was punching out of his chest in ragged, overwhelmed gasps, sweat glittering at his temples while he silently groaned through the pleasure.

His head dipped low as you dragged your tongue up his length for the last time, from the base of his cock to the tip, and you finally licked him clean. A few moments of catching your breaths passed before he gently pulled you back to your feet.

As you both quickly fixed your clothes and adjusted your hair, he retrieved his cowboy hat from where it had been discarded on the floor, placing it back on his head with a grin. Then, without hesitation, he drew you close, his lips peppering your face with sweet, tender kisses.

You laughed at his sudden affection. "What's all this for?" you asked, smiling up at him.

"I feel obligated after... all of that," he confessed, his lips brushing softly against yours before he withdrew slightly. "You're amazing."

Your smile widened at his words, a soft warmth blooming in your chest. "And you're not so bad yourself," you replied teasingly, wrapping your arms around his neck. "So, was that enough to convince you to come back?"

"Almost," he murmured, his voice low and filled with warmth. "I think I need a bit more convincing."

You quirked an eyebrow. "I don't think I have it in me for round two."

"No, not that," he said with a laugh. His hand slid down to rest on your lower back, drawing you closer to him. "Have dinner with me tonight and I'll come by the office tomorrow."

You smiled up at him, a flutter of excitement dancing in your chest as you took in every detail of his rugged features—the subtle crinkle in the corner of his eyes, the hint of stubble along his jawline, and the warmth of his brown eyes that seemed to shine brighter in the light.

Your gaze lingered on his cowboy hat, and with a mischievous grin, you reached out to grab it, placing it atop your own head.

"Then you've got yourself a deal, cowboy."

[fingertipsmp3]

Spent way too fucking long not writing and now I can’t write anymore

[asunflowerana]

brownie bonding — Nanami Kento

summary: kento makes most of his quality time with his baby daughter.

warnings: pure fluff, dad!nanami, cooking.

wc: 800.

A warming melody of jazz echoes on the portable radio in the kitchen, filling the bonding moment perfectly. Nanami is just finishishing tying a cook’s apron around his waist, feeling a bit awkward to wear such a flowery print, but it was a request from his baby daughter. There’s no way he would refuse her. 

“You look pretty, daddy!” His sunshine compliments him, sitting in the high chair at the counter with her head covered by her tiny cook’s hat. She isn’t a kid that plays around: if she’s going to cook, she’ll wear the proper clothes for it.

Six years old, acting that way already. Imagine when she’s sixteen.

He can’t help but send her a fondly smile. One of the good things about having a kid is that you will always receive an honest answer from them. His little girl it’s saying he looks pretty, so maybe flower prints actually suit him. 

He moves his focus to the counter, checking the ingredients on display: sugar, butter, wheat flour, powdered chocolate, milk, eggs, chocolate chips. The mixer is set, the oven is heating up, and they have everything they need to start the day’s recipe:

Brownies

You’re on your way home from a business trip today, and they both came up with the idea of ​​surprising you with some brownies. In addition to welcoming you home with a delicious gift, Kento also takes this opportunity to spend more quality time with his daughter. She’s growing up so fast that he’s been feeling guilty for missing some moments of her life because of work. He wants to make sure that as long as he has time, he’ll make the most of it alongside her.

“Alright sweetheart, what’s the first step?” He claps his hands, giving her the task of leading and guiding them through the recipe. She bows to read the children’s cookbook she got for her birthday last year, and points her little index to the first illustrated step.

“We need to mix eggs with sugar.” She says, cautiously taking the mixer’s bowl and placing it in front of them. “Can I put them in, daddy?”

“You can, but you need to be careful with the eggs. Break this way.” He demonstrates to her, tapping the tip of the fork against the eggshell until it breaks a small part. He then opens it halfway, and pours the yolk and whites into the bowl. “Your turn now.”

Eri picks up another egg, and tries to imitate exactly what her father did, but ends up hitting the shell too hard, causing the egg to break right on the table and smear the wood with white and yolk. The dirt definitely doesn’t please her father, but he isn’t going to make a big deal of it. These things happen, even to adults, and he doesn’t want to make his daughter feel guilty about something like that. So when she looks at him with those fearful little eyes waiting for a scold, he starts to chuckle at the situation, making her visibly relax as the moment passes by.

They continue with the recipe, now with Nanami directly helping her put the ingredients into the bowl, and his heart warmed to see his daughter having fun cooking, her mini apron’s all dirty from chocolate. “Now we have to add the flour.” He takes the bag from the counter, and gives it to her. “Think you can do it, sweeheart?”

She nods eagerly, and starts pouring flour into the meter. A small amount of flour escapes, but she manages most part of the process, placing the measured flour into the bowl. “I did it!” She announces as soon as she’s done, a huge one missing tooth grin on her face.

Nanami smiles at his daughter’s delight, caressing the top of her head. “Yes sweetheart, you did it.” He presses the ‘on’ button on the mixer, and it starts to churn all the mixture into the bowl. The two watch together the mixture incorporate and become a smooth brown dough, which soon after was put on a platter to bake in the oven.

Since the brownie would take about forty minutes to bake, Nanami thought it would be a good time to give his sunshine a bath and get her ready before the sweet is done.

But his daughter has other plans in mind.

“Daddy, you have flour on your face.” She points in the direction, making him run his hand over his whole cheek. “No, missed.”

“Where’s it?” he asked, leaning his face close to let her clean it for him.

She puts one of her flour-covered hands to his nose, laughing when she sees the art she’s made on her father’s skin. “There.”

His first reaction is deadpan, not believing he fell for a six-year-old child’s trick. But he’s definitely not a quitter: as soon as she gets occupied laughing at his face, he places his hands on her sides and holds her, giving her a mischievous smile. “So this is how you want to play, huh? Very well, young lady… You shall be defeated.” He starts tickling her body, making her squirm and laugh even more. He releases her eventually, and the two soon start a big flour fight around the room, running and throwing flour everywhere.

Not only they’ll give you a brownie tray, but also a pretty messy kitchen to deal with afterwards. But you can’t deny that it’s worth the price. 

© asunflowerana 2024 — all rights reserved.

[boolger]

A lapdog at a farm - chapter 1

AO3 link. next chapter -> Call of duty. Explicit, 18+, minors do not interact. read the tags. wc: 4,147

Farmer!John Price x Hybrid!Reader, hybrid! Kyle Gaz Garrick x hybrid! Johnny Soap MacTavish x hybrid! Simon Ghost, John Price x Nikolai.

Summary: When Price was young and left his childhood home, a farm in the middle of nowhere in England, he didn’t enter the military. Instead he moved to London, got a degree and a good career, earning good money. He got you, a human dog hybrid as a pet, after feeling lonely - and you lived your best life for years, spoiled and pampered, Price’s lapdog who got praised at every party. Loved and fucked every night. That was until Price decided to return to his roots and go back to farming - dragging you along to the middle of nowhere, away from all the wonders of the big city. Expecting you to accept this sudden change in lifestyle and pretend to be a farm dog. Bad luck however, because you fucking hated it, and became more and more unruly. In hopes of getting you to calm down and to keep his live-stock and farm safe, Price then got three working dog hybrids - and all at once, your life was even worse than before.

tags: Rape/non-con elements, dub-con, dog!hybrid!people being kept as pets, alternative universe - farm, dark, farmer!John Price, working-dogs, punishments, mating cycles/rut/heat (no omegaverse), the dove isn't dead but its dying, reader is a brat, knotting, animal tails and ears, mentions of trauma, violence, angst, hurt/comfort, collars, rough sex, breeding kink, biting, threesome, foursome, everyone is fucking your honor, enemies to lovers, chubby reader, reader has a pussy

author's note: Hi sinners <33 Just a heads up; the reader is gonna be a spoiled brat. If you want a smart and sweet reader who isn’t mean at times, well. Bad news. This ain’t it.🥰The reader is she / her and has a pussy and is chubby. I tried my best to keep the descriptions somewhat vague otherwise. Reader is a cocker spaniel hybrid. I will tell the others along the way. In this universe, hybrids have ears, tail, claws beneath nails and canine fangs. There will be heats and ruts but there is no omegaverse. They will have personality traits of their dog breed and so on. Now. I know there aren’t wild wolves in the UK… but in this fic there is, ok? mwah.

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

The countryside was peaceful compared to the city; the absence of the bustling streets and constant traffic, created a quietness that was indescribable.

Out here, at the new farm, the noises only came from animals that lived in the stables and barn or the occasional rumble as a tractor turned on. The wind caressed the never ending fields of wheat and the long rows of fruit trees, under which the goats and sheep walked most days.

The stress here wasn’t the same kind as in the city. Sure , there were stressful moments and sometimes Price looked like he needed to sleep for more than just the few hours he got everyday.

But he didn’t have to worry about the morning traffic, waiting in a queue for an overpriced, questionable tea or coffee. There was no need for him to wear a suit, no noisy, overfilled train cars in the underground. No crowded dog or hybrid parks, no meetings or rules to follow - except those John Price decided for himself.

He was happy, so much was clear to you. It had been three months since the move - Johnhad gone back to his roots, buying back the farm that his parents had used to own a little while ago, using some of his endless wealth on renovating the place. There was no step on the stairs that was loose, like it used to when he was a kid - sure they still creaked, but you weren’t afraid they would disappear from beneath you.

It was modernized, but most of the old charm left. Price fit right in; the furniture he had inherited and never believed he would use was suddenly in the living room. His knowledge of the business world was abandoned in the city, for the knowledge of farming that he still had left from his youth. John got a couple of farm hands and workers, who helped him with the big place.

It was like he reclaimed his own self that had been buried beneath the suits, ties and paperwork. Now he didn’t smoke his cigars from stress, but from pleasure, clearly much content.

It was like the farm had truly made John Price happy once more; his smiles more genuine, his true self stepping forth. Returning to his childhood home and taking over the farm had been the best decision Price had made. There was no question about it.

… and you hated every bloody day at the farm.

The early morning hours in bed with him, being disturbed by the farm waking up, the rooster crowing and John leaving the bed, giving you a pat in between your ears, taking all the heat with him. The constant bugs, the muddy stables and the big animals, the helpers who always teased you for not fitting in, the lack of friends you had out here. The foxes’ screams in the night, the wolves howling, and the cows occasionally mooing sounded like creatures stepping out of nightmares.

You were not made for farm life. Literally. Simply not made for it.

Some would argue that you, as a hybrid pet, didn’t have a say in it and sure , legally you didn’t. But you were a lapdog, an elegant pet. Not a farm dog. Created to be cared for and cuddled, you were a purebred cocker spaniel hybrid; you weren’t made to run around on a farm, following John on his duties And doing work. 

Sure, you had the instincts to hunt a few things here and there, but it was mostly balls and the occasional bird or squirrel. You weren’t a guard hybrid, not really a working dog.

You had had enough trauma throughout your life - you deserved not to be forced into this! You had grown up being trained to be a lapdog, not a working-dog like you felt like John expected you to act like now.

You wanted John to be happy, you really did - you loved your Master! When he bought you a few years ago, when you were still aggressive and unruly (… more than now at least), you had thought he would tire of you like everybody else had. But with patience, rules, training, praise and punishment and a whole lot of sex later, you were a perfect hybrid pet for the city! People always praised how well you looked, laughing when Price said you were really a little troublemaker. You would follow him throughout the fancy apartment, on your daily walks, sometimes for meetings.

But why the fuck did it have to be a farm? He worked somwwhat the same time that he did before, genuinely seeming to enjoy himself. Forgetting about poor you!

Out here, there were no hybrid daycare that you would go to when he had long days, there were none of your playmates nearby, everything stank of animals and there were no places nearby for you to get your hair and fur styled and pampered! No nail technicians, no fancy cafes, no shops for John to buy you things in! No special made coffee or chef-made meals every other evening, no freshly baked croissants.

You felt like you had tried . You really had. 

But after the first week, you had your first breakdown - and as the weeks passed, they didn’t stop. At first, John was sympathetic, like the perfect owner he was.

Cooing at you, kissing your forehead, as he gently scratched your ears. Kissing away any tears, saying it was okay - that you were just overwhelmed, that it would be okay. That you would come to like it out here.

Big fucking joke.

He had tried every trick in the book, in an attempt to please you and made you less upset, but as days turned into weeks and tantrums began to appear, you knew his patience began to disappear.

He followed professional advice and then the advice of the neighbors down the street, Rodolfo and Alejandro (who had caught you running away at one point), tried some of the workers’ advice. He had given you your own room, and it was mostly designed like your own, perfect to the pale green paint on the wall, all your toys and dog beds, your CDs - everything. He had tried hauling you along every day, trying to give you a routine to follow - but after two weeks, he gave up, not having the energy to deal with a tantrum that got worse and worse each day. He went on walks with you, fucked you silly, tried his best — and you didn’t want it.

No, you wanted to go back to your old life. Not this country life that you hadn’t signed up for, with horses that neighed loudly whenever you passed them; they were definitely going to trample you at the first chance, you knew that. You could hear foxes scream in the night, warning you of the dangers. The goats and sheep were so fucking loud and no you didn’t want to go pick fresh apples off the trees - had he seen the size of the spiders crawling on them?

When you in one of your biggest tantrums took off and bolted from the farm in distress, Rodolfo and Alejandro had almost hit you when you emerged from the corn fields onto the road. 

You had cried the entire drive home, no matter what the two men had tried saying, especially as Rodolfo called Price in advance — your master was livid . The worst thing was, that it was not that kind of anger where he yelled at you before punishing you - no, this one was almost silent, a sharp grip on your collar as he dragged you along after thanking his neighbours.

He had belted you then, ignoring your crying and screaming, only stopping when you broke, sobbing and going quiet. He had explained it to you then, what could have happened, what dangers you could have ended in - and as you sobbingly apologized and tried to explain, that you wanted to go back to the city, John had sighed .

Said that he had pampered you too much since he got you, which had made you greedy and attention seeking. Which only made you cry more, as you hid your face in his neck, fingers digging into his shirt, ass cheeks burning.

“Spoiled rotten, little birdie,” he mused, though you could hear the softness in him, your tail wagging a little, hoping to get him to be less mad.

“‘M sorry,” you had whined in distress, upset with yourself as well, ears tipping down, “wanna be good but I don’t like it.”

Your rather dull escape attempt resulted in several things. An AirTag on your collar, so that he always knew where you were. A remarkable lack of treats, sex and then… the crate .

You fucking hated the dog crate. 

Sure, it hadn’t been nice of you to bite one of his pillows into a simple pulp of fabric, feathers everywhere. Or create chaos in the kitchen… or get drunk on his fancy whiskey (that one had ended worse for you, hangover was a bitch and there wasn’t much sympathy from John). And yes, you might have ripped most of the flowers surrounding the house up, until one of the workers had caught you. Maybe pissing yourself in the middle of the living room while staring him in the eyes and ignoring his warnings had been a little…excessive. 

But the dog crate? You hated that thing with a burning passion. 

Hated it when he locked you up, ignoring your whimpers and whines, your promises to behave, ignoring your little howls as he left. 

Mean. The farm had made him mean. Perhaps you had become a bit unruly too, but it was like he didn’t take your clear suffering seriously.

Mean and happy - unruly and suffering. What a pair you were. One of the workers, KAte Laswell, who was a big helper and often stayed over for dinner, suggested a fucking shock collar. You had growled, only stopped when John sent you a sharp look. 

You had even heard him talking over the phone with somebody, saying that he didn’t want to rehome you, but he didn’t know what to do.

That had made you melt a little and you had cried as you had crawled into his bed a couple of hours later, begging him to not abandon you. Fears of never getting to see John again or being loved again by him made you cling onto him as he kissed away your tears, gently fucking you.

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

It was a random morning a couple of days later, that you found him still in the kitchen, reading the newspaper, humming to himself while smoking a cigar.

He looked nice like this. Despite how he sometimes muttered about being too old, he wasn’t really that old. Late thirties, and perhaps it was the peace on his face or the sun rays that kissed him, which made him look younger. But still. There was a decade between you, but days like this, you were reminded that it didn’t matter.

“Are you going to stare all day or are you going to join me, Darling?” He asked teasingly, pulling you from your thoughts. You let out a little huff and kissed him good morning, receiving a pat on the ass before you sat down on your own seat. It had been a while since the two of you had eaten together - often he was up at the crack of dawn, so his calm behavior and gentle humming was unusual to say the least.

“Why are you not working?” You asked carefully, as you ate some of the bread, trying to ignore how it wasn’t a fancy sourdough one - though you were pretty sure he had picked it up from a local bakery in the village which was a little drive away.

“Because,” he put the paper down, then tapping some ash off the cigar into his ashtray, before looking over at you, a pleased smile on his face, “you and I are going on a trip.”

“A trip?” You didn’t even bother to be embarrassed about how your voice got higher with excitement or how your tail thumped against the backrest of the chair as you wagged it, “where are we going? When? Can we go now?”

Price had laughed, a happy sound that you knew not many got to hear; it made your heart beat a little faster, made you feel butterflies in your stomach. 

“Well, we got to do a few things first to get ready, and you ,” he used the cigar to point at you, your tail wagging a little faster, “need to not freak out when I tell you where we are going.”

Despite the warning, tears streamed down your cheeks when he told you. John didn’t get mad as a part of you had expected; he knew your abandonment issues first hand, knew how you had been left behind before, from one bad owner to another. 

“You’re going to sell me and leave me with a mean owner and I’m gonna die of hunger and thirst - and - and —“

“Not gonna leave you, princess,” John crooned, covering your face in kisses as you hiccuped and sniffled, clinging to his clothes, “you know that. My favorite puppy. Pretty girl.”

Despite your tears and small sobs, your tail wagged at his words, “silly puppy,” he mused with a smile, gently scratching your lower back, “‘m not gonna sell you. Ale and Rodolfo are looking for a hybrid, I figured we could go look at the auction as well.”

“What if - what if - what if you’ll like them more?” You sniffled dramatically, sure that your life was only going to become worse than it already was. One thing was this bloody farm and the crate, another thing was having to share Price. You didn’t like the idea one bit. If that happened, you were going to show him how a proper tantrum was thrown - the crate would probably be the least of your worries.

As if to prove his love, John bent you over the table, fucking you in between the clattering dishes and cutlery, tea and coffee almost spilling over. Despite how many times your owner fucked you, it made you lose control of your mind every single time. His cock reached so deep inside you that it bordered on pain, your mouth open as you panted and moaned at each thrust; your soft stomach being pressed against the edge of the table, one hand holding onto the back of your collar, the other on your tail. The table rattled, John groaned and moaned, your fingers desperately trying to hold onto anything. 

“My princess,” he snarled darkly into your ear, “you’ll always be mine-“ a moan, a grunt, “- no matter what happens, yeah?”

“Yes ye-ah- yes, sir, I’m yours - ah ah - I’m yours!” you managed in between pants and wails of pleasure, fear of abandonment forgotten in the ocean of euphoric satisfaction. 

You came harder than you had for a while; the reminder of your worth, of how you deserved his worship, making you cream around his throbbing length, legs in spasms afterwards. He pushed deeper, filling you up with a loud roar like sound, his hands moving to grab onto the fat of your ass and hips as he came. Pain and pleasure made your toes curl and a content sigh left you, your tail wagging against Price as he chuckled.

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

The auction hall was filled to the brim with humans and hybrids alike. Every owned hybrid followed their respective owners, all wearing mandatory leashes so no pets would be confused with the ones that were being sold. You wore your own pink one with pride, gem stones sparkling. A matching leash connected to the D-ring on it, that also bore your tags. You were convinced yours were the most beautiful in this entire place.

“They’re bonded,” Laswell pointed out, pointing to the papers that hung nearby, showing off general information about them, “gotta get all three.”

You dared to look at the little board with the informations about the three hybrids they were looking at.

“Ah, we don't have space for three, mi amor.”

“eso es una pena,” Rodolfo answered, while you looked over at John - who kept looking at the three hybrids. You dared to peek over at them.

All three of them were enormous .

Two of them wore muzzles, meaning they were biters. At least at the auction. You shouldn’t judge then, not really, but you did... Even though you had worn a muzzle five years ago, when Price had chosen you. You hadn’t tried biting people out of malice; you had been scared and angry at the world. Angry for being abandoned once more, over the fact that you were most likely being passed on to another abusive master. You leaned a little closer to Price, taking in his scent.

Even from the start, despite all the problems and your attitude problems, he had been sweet. Strict at times — probably not enough — but kind.

The biggest one looked like a Great Pyrenees breed, most likely. The fur on his ears and tail looked shorter, badly cut. Probably due to matting or if he refused to get it cut. His hair, a dark blonde almost brown, was in a buzz cut. He had scars, all over - unable to hide because of the lack of clothes most hybrids were given, only underwear. There was a lot in his face, though you suspected a bunch were hidden by the muzzle. He stared into nothing, his ears curled back, though they moved now and again, listening to different sounds.

“Hard to get sold,” Laswell commented and you looked over at her in synchronicity with John, “they’re ex-military.”

Like he had been called to them, a man who wore one of the seller badges appeared.

“They’re obedient once they fall into place,” he happily explained, going full seller-mode, “they’re just not too fond of the auctions - too many people.”

“Makes sense,” Price mused, clearly interested - much to your annoyance. The fact that he asked follow up questions made you frown, fingers tightening in his shirt. He was here to look. To help Alejandro and Rodolfo, who both had continued their walk. You dared to look over at the hybrids again. All three were staring at you and John. 

“How come they were discharged?”

“One of them got a hearing loss -“ he nodded towards them, “the one with the mohawk. And they’re a bonded pack.”

“So only retiring him was out of the question,” John concluded once more looking over at them.

You felt your tail go in between your legs. He couldn’t be seriously considering those three . you couldn’t help but let out a small whine. Price gave your leash a little tug.

“They’re working dogs,” the seller continued, his eyes flickering to you, making you huff, “so they’ll need something to do, not just be pets.”

“Oh I know. I have a farm. Need some work dogs - this one isn’t guarding much.”

They all laughed, your tail going even further between your legs with embarrassment.

“You can’t be serious,” you whined in a whisper to John, not caring that you sounded needy - spoiled would Laswell had said and you ignored her as she rolled her eyes.

“Hush, Princess.” John didn’t even look at you.

“You have animals there?” The seller asked, “one of them is a herding dog - the border collie.”

“I do - several. That’s why there's a need for guarding dogs as well, bloody wolves have been terrorizing us.”

You knew he was telling the truth; he had muttered about dead sheeps and goats several times - even a calf had lost its life to the wolves in the area, despite he and Laswell having shot two already. Even foxes had gotten into the coop, despite the fences.

“They’re good at that too, with their training,” the seller offered, clearly interested in selling them or at least getting John to bid on them. “The one with the mohawk, Soap , will have hearing aids with him, so you don’t need to worry about that.”

You looked over at this “Soap”, scrunching your nose. They were still staring, the biggest one bending down to listen to the third one, a beautiful black man, whisper in his ear. No doubt judging you.

“It says here they don’t do well with others,” you muttered, in a desperate attempt to sway John, pointing to the board with their papers. It did indeed say so, to which you wanted to argue that YOU should be his main focus in this whole thing - how would he even consider adding them to your household if these dogs could get a hold of you?

“It’s in the sense that they’re not really housetrained to be social family pets,” the seller swooped in, pushing your argument away, annoying you even more, “they’ve had missions all their lives. They need to have something to do.”

“I’m sure you’ll get along with them, sweetheart,” Price answered, giving you a small scratch beneath your chin as he finally looked over at you, a glint in his eyes, “some company will do you good.”

You huffed, crossing your arms. Hardly . Price’s smile told you that he thought this was a great idea however. You dared to look at the men again. Still staring, fucking bastards.

The black man seemed like a mix of some breeds, German shepherd and… you looked shortly at the board. Belgian malinois. Fancy. He wasn’t as tall as the big one, but broad and with scars as well. There was a more slender look to him, but his six pack proved he was strong. His curly hair wasn’t too long, probably cut not too long ago. He was looking at you curiously, making you raise your upper lip a little, as if to warn him.

The one with the hearing loss looked like some sort of border collie - covered in scars as well, some of his skin looking like it had been too close to fire. He was broad like the two others, his upper arms the size of your head. He even sent you a cheeky grin, even daring to wink at you. You just looked away, tipping your chin up a little.

“You can look closer if you want, sir?”

You were pulled back into the conversation at once and before you could argue, John had already passed on your leash to Laswell and walked towards the men with the seller. You whined, distressed that he was really, actually considering this.

“You’ll be fine,” Laswell commented calmly, with empathy in her voice for once, though she didn’t look at you, merely at John and the others.

“He is gonna lose interest in me,” you whined, perhaps a little dramatically, bottom lip wobbling a little as you could feel tears welling up in your eyes, “then he’ll leave me in the crate all day and only care about them an—“

“Calm down,” Laswell said, “you’ll work yourself into a fuss.”

“He can’t do this to me,” you argued in a sullen voice, already imagining John forgetting all about you, focusing on these three hybrids for the rest of his life, leaving you cold and lonely inside the dog crate - maybe even rehoming you, “he promised he wouldn’t get rid of me.”

“You’re being dramatic,” Laswell answered just as calmly as before, “John loves you too much, you’re just being spoiled. Hanging out with some working dogs will do you good.”

“They probably have fleas,” you said, your prejudices seeping into your words, knowing you’re being mean, judgmental against your own kind, “they’ll kill me and eat my dead body.”

Laswell laughed. “No they won’t. Worst thing they’ll do, is probably knock you up.”

A high pitched, scandalized sound left you, despite knowing you had an implant. Laswell laughed again, giving your leash a little yank and then scratching you behind your long ears.

“Settle, Princess. That won’t happen without John’s permission.”

You almost cried at the sight of John shaking the seller’s hand.

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

They all met up again for the actual auction part and you sat at John’s feet, sniffling a little. Crying hadn’t helped, in fact John had just petted and kissed you, calling you sensitive. Alejandro had gotten a hybrid earlier that they didn’t need to bid on - she was for sale for a certain price. Something about being too intense without enough space to roam, having attacked others before.

Fucking great. Beasts all around you.

John won the bidding on the three working dog hybrids he had been interested in - because of course he did. He spent way too much money on them too, according to you.

One more - or well, three more fucking things to hate about this “farming life” that had been forced upon you.

Maybe John had gone mad.

next chapter ->

[dunmeshistash]

Dungeon Meshi - "Dungeon Meals" from volumes 1 to 4

More info under the cut

Decided to compile the dungeon meals anyway. These are from chapter 1 to 28 (Volumes 1 to 4)

There were a total of 24 "meals" (counting the special panels) in the 28 chapters. Meal is anything that gets the named panel, so kelpie soap giant frog suit and Falin skeleton count (cause that's funny). I'm using EHScans pages because they have a better resolution usually (and for consistency)

Anyway here's the meals of each chapter and who made them.

Chapter 1 - Hot pot Meal: Huge Scorpion and Walking Mushroom Hot Pot Cooked by: Mostly Senshi but Laios started it.

Chapter 2 - Tart Meal: Man-Eating Plant Tart Cooked by: Senshi

Chapter 3 - Roast Basilisk Meal: Roast Basilisk Cooked by: Senshi

Chapter 4 - Omelet Meal: Mandrake & Basilisk Omelet Cooked by: Senshi

Chapter 5 - Kakiage Meal: Mandrake Kakiage & Giant Bat Tempura Cooked by: Senshi and Chilchuck

Chapter 7 - Living Armor II Meal: Living Armor Full Course Meal, consisting of: Dwarf-Style Stir Fry, Steamed Living Armor, Living Armor Soup and Grilled Living Armor Cooked by: Senshi (Others helped with prepping)

Chapter 8 - Simmered Cabbage Meal: Vegetable Lunch, Fresh off the Golem Fields, consisting of: Simmered Whole Cabbage and Turnip Salad. Cooked by: Senshi (Others helped with prepping)

Chapter 9 - Orcs Meal: Stolen Vegetables, Simmed Cabbage & Chicken with a side of Plundered Bread Cooked by: Senshi, Marcille, Laios, Chilchuck, Zon and other Orc Ladies

Chapter 10 - Snacks Meal: All Natural♡Delicious Treasure Bug Snacks, consisting of: Treasure Bug Nest Jam, Coin Bug Crackers and Pearl Centipede Skewers Cooked by: Senshi (Laios helped by.. watching)

Chapter 11 - Sorbet Meal 1: Deluxe♪Multicultural Holy Water Cooked by: Senshi Meal 2: Protective Ward! Spirit Dispelling Sorbet Cooked by: Senshi and Laios

Chapter 12 - Palace Cuisine Meal: Palace Cuisine Full Course Meal, consisting of: Sautéed Fish with Soybeans, Pumpkin Soup, Fruit, Golden Wheat Bread, Golden cow Cheese and Roast Duck Cooked by: Palace Cooks? Painter? Magic?

Chapter 13 - Boiled in Salt Water Meal: Boiled Mimic Cooked by: Senshi

Chapter 14 - Kelpie "Meal": Kelpie Tallow Soap Cooked by: Marcille

Chapter 15 - Porridge Meal: Zosui Made from Dropped Barley Cooked by: Laios

Chapter 16 - Broiled with Sauce Meal: Giant Parasite from Giant Kraken: Grilled Plain and Kabayaki Style Cooked by: Senshi (Laios Helped with prepping the skewers and ate one raw and suffered)

Chapter 18 - Grilled Meat Meal: Grilled Kelpie Cooked by: Senshi

Chapter 19 - Tentacles "Meal": Tentacles With Vinegar Dressing Cooked by: Namari (with Laios instructions)

Chapter 20 - Stew Meal: Tentacle & Kelpie Stewed in an Undine Cooked by: Marcille (With Senshi's help)

Chapter 21 - Giant Frogs Meal 1: Tentacle Gnocchi Cooked by: Senshi Meal 2: Frog Suit Cooked by: Laios and Chilchuck

Chapter 23 - Red Dragon I Meal: Let's Cutlet the Dragon to Pieces! Cooked by: Senshi

Chapter 27 - Red Dragon V "Meal": Falin & Warg Skelletons Cooked by: Laios & Marcille (Red Dragon helped clean up the bones really well)

Chapter 28 - Red Dragon VI Meals: Roast Red Dragon, Pizza Bread with Onions and Dragontail Soup Cooked by: Senshi

The chapters that had no "meal is done" panel were chapters

6 - Living Armor I

17 - Raspberries

22 - Above Ground

24 - Red Dragon II

25 - Red Dragon III

26 - Red Dragon IV

Mostly the multipart chapters, there was food eaten in 17 and 22 but no special panel for them, 17 is the titular raspberries and 22 the barmaids serve them a meal they eat right at the end

The chapter with more than one "meal" panels (not more than one meal prepared just more than one special panel for the meals) were:

11 - Sorbet with Holy Water and Sorbet

21 - Giant Frog with Gnocchi and Frog Suit

And the party stats are:

Senshi: 17 meals cooked, all of them food

Chilchuck: 3 "meals" cooked, 2 of them were food, 1 of them was a Frog Suit

Marcille: 4 "meals" cooked, 2 of them were food, 1 of them was soap and 1 of them was Falin skeleton reconstruction. She made the soap by herself and the stew mostly by herself

Laios: 5 "meals" cooked , 3 of them were food, 1 of them was a frog suit and 1 was Falin skeleton reconstruction. He also helped with 4 other meals (kinda) and 1 of them he made by himself (The zosui)

Out of the 24 meals in these 4 volumes, 21 were food and 3 were "other"

Out the 21 food meals Senshi made 17 of them, Laios made 1 Marcille made 1 and the other 2 was Namari and Living Painting Cooks.

I often get confused with numbers so if I said anything wrong feel free to correct me! Might do less volumes for the next post we'll see

[ophanstears]

Undertale YELLOW ReImagined!

I wanted to put my own spin on how the cast of UTY would look in my style! :) I'm new to pixel art, and I had a blast trying it out! [Just to clarify, this is NOT an attempt to "fix" UTY's designs; I have immense respect for all the artists and developers working on UTY, and their work is incredible! I LOVE the cast, their animations, art and designs! This is all just for fun!] A ton more thoughts and comparison under the Read More! if you feel like reading a lot.

Flowey the Flower: I gave Flowey flushed, freckled cheeks and a tooth gap to make him look cuter and more approachable! Just a ruse, though - fluster him enough, and he might revert to that typical pale face and frown.

Clover: Clover is the iconic player character of the game so I changed as little as possible. I simply adjusted some colors and added details, including the adorable blush they have in a lot of promo art!

Dalv: I aimed to showcase Dalv's lightning powers through his design, so I gave him glowing horns and some subtle markings, including a pinkish nose. <3 While he’s originally based on Vlad, I added some minotaur elements because they really suit him. I Like in the original story, the minotaur trapped in a maze, unsure of what else is out there.

Martlet: I'll be honest, I saw some art of chubby Martlet and was inspired. To bring her passion for woodworking across, I gave her some tight but comfy overalls! She has some cool goggles that she always forgets to wear when flying - typical Martlet! Since a martlet is said to be a bird that never rests or settles, I gave her some cool glowly ghost legs! They're translucent!

Starlo: I revamped Starlo's cape by changing the patterns and adding tassels! I also removed the piece of wheat sticking to his hat because, honestly, I tend to forget to draw it. ^^* The inner fabric of his cape has a fun star pattern, tying into his previous obsession with space! And of course, big boots!

Ceroba: I made Ceroba a bit furry-like and taller, sort of to mirror Toriel! I wanted to give her a more traditional kimono with beautiful patterns, and I added eyebags to make her look a bit tired. She also has large paws now; I considered giving her sandals but ultimately decided against it.

Axis: To be honest I wanted to push his design even further but!!! Then it wouldn't be Axis anymore! :( I kept most of his original features but added some pink highlights. His antennae now have pointy tips, resembling bunny ears! I couldn’t resist the idea of a fox monster creating a bunny robot to apprehend humans - it’s just too cute! He's also taller now for intimidation factor and in case a larger human comes along.

And that's all! Thank you so much if you made it this far! More is to come soon! :) here is a wip!

I also have an AU in the works! And lots and lots of art!!!

[justpoliteconversations]

Apple Merchant [BOTW!Link x Isekai!Reader] (Part 4)

Link learns some things. And so do you.

Yet another for the ever growing pile of self-indulgent garbage refuse. Enjoy the process of decomposition with me for a while.

Part 1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6

Alternate Extras: Embrace

Masterlist

TW: Choosing not to display warnings. Read at your own discretion.

Disclaimer: Don't own The Legend of Zelda franchise.

---

The yiga. A faction of Ganon worshipping traitors formerly of the Sheikah clan, whose main objective is to kill the Hero known as Link (in other words, himself). Known for their distinctive red body suits and white masks. And, strangely enough, their love of bananas.

They were also currently at the very top of Link's (until recently non-existent) shit list, because AM had deemed their threat level too great to allow them to meet each other freely. As Blue had told him, AM's profession placed them at greater danger than the average citizen to the assassins' blades. What that profession was, Link was not told (despite his pleading and intense stares and even one memorable attempt to bargain for the information), but it was deemed necessary to maintain distance because of this.

There were plenty of other useful things in the book too. Not a letter or a note or even a small bundle of documents. A book. An honest to Goddess book. Because there was nothing else the ridiculously thick, neatly piled collection of leather bound miscellaneous papers, maps, diagrams, notes and documents could be. It was the thickness of Link's hand for goodness sakes.

Thankfully, Blue had taken mercy on him (and his desire to get moving as soon as possible) and bookmarked the pages and maps that would be most useful to him. All while giving him that bland, graceful smile of hers and explaining that AM was a very proactive information gatherer, but that they didn't always consider that not everyone wanted to know the exact region Sneaky snails bred in or where the highest priced wheat could be found.

Link very deliberately didn't tell her that he did, in fact, find those very interesting topics to learn about (and that he would be reading through the entire book when he got the chance. later). Because he was still stung that she'd given him a condescending little smile (smirk, it was a damned smirk and Link knew it) when he'd tried to bargain with her for more information on AM.

In total, he'd spent three days in Hateno, gathering information (as though the book wasn't enough), gathering supplies (because as many as were in the slate, it didn't have everything a warrior would need to maintain his gear. Blue's words, not his) and getting to know the people around the area.

Also, armor. Costume fitted (Link didn't think too hard about how Blue had gotten his measurements) as to AM's specifications before they'd left town. The order arrived a little later due to his (apparently) small size causing complications with some of the straps.

Honestly, it felt good. It felt familiar with a hazy kind of comfort that spoke of his body's remembrance of such armor resting upon it often. And suddenly, in that moment, the thought that he had once been a knight didn't feel so far off, despite having no memory of it and very little desire to become as such again.

Ready to go (finally) he put on his boots, tightened the straps of his new (fitted. maybe he'd see about getting his Sheikah armor fitted as well if he was in the area) hyrulian armor set, and took one last shot before departing.

"Where can I get more bananas?" Link tried, going for casual but coming off far too intense for it to be anything but prying. "For the Yiga problem."

Blue just smiled (small and condescending, and so frustrating) before replying evenly. "AM has that well in hand I'd imagine." The knowing glint in Blue's eyes put a pout on Link's face. "It's best you focus on your mission, Courageous One." Then she smiled genuinely. Just a bit, but enough to ease Link's heart as she continued. "Fear naught for your beloved AM. No harm shall befall them while my sister haunts their shadow."

Link believed her. And with that little bit of reassurance, the Hero of Hyrule set out into the world once more. With courage in his heart and his goal ever at the forefront of his mind.

Defeat the Calamity guy. Meet AM. Travel this vast, wondrous world with them for the rest of their days. Or, maybe one day settle down more permanently in Hateno and open a food stand.

Anywhere life took them. Whatever you wanted. This was the beginning of his new life after all, and he was so eager to spend it with you.

---

You stared up at the quickly growing pile of bright yellow fruit with something like regret stabbing at your heart. Just thinking about how much rupees you were about to drop on this one purchase alone was enough to put a hitch in your throat. It was enough to have you contemplating a long walk off that equally long (absurdly long) wooden bridge just next to the stable.

When you'd stopped at Lakeside Stable for the night and told Adino you'd pay him market price for any bananas he brought back to you before you left. You hadn't expected him to take that as a challenge. You hadn't expected Skims to get involved in it as well. And you most certainly had not expected Red to show up out of nowhere with a pile rivaling (and maybe even surpassing) Adino's.

And thus, within the span of a few short hours, you were suddenly several thousand rupees poorer (not that that pantry amount even scratched the surface of your accumulated wealth, but you digress) and many, many bananas richer.

At least they tasted good.

"Not that I'm against your presence. But why are you here, Red?" You asked the red clad woman after (with a heavy heart) passing out everyone's pay for the bananas they'd brought you. (Skims and Red didn't even have the grace to look ashamed for muscling in on the quick profit either, the jerks.)

She didn't even pause from where she'd been fingering through her newly acquired (ill gotten) gains when she hummed playfully. "Oh. Gran thought it'd be wise to send along a little extra protection to ensure The Hero's benefactor remained unmolested during these most crucial of times."

The look on your face must have been confused enough to spur Red to explain. "Gran told us to keep you in the dark about our motivations, but I like you. So I'll tell you the truth, since you seem like the reasonable sort." She finally put the rupees down and turned to face you, eyes hardening into a serious shade of near black as she explained.

"The Hero is without his memory, and until recently, was without motivation to see his mission through with the urgency it requires. Had he been as he was before, just the mention of the Princess would have been enough to send the guy running, if you believe the rambling of nostalgic old gossip crows." Her lips twisted into something too complicated to decipher before it was neutral again.

"But he's not the man he used to be. He's not the princess's knight anymore for all his destiny would push him to be. And so, he needed a new motivation to get him moving." She gave you a smile, but it wasn't a nice one (it was one full of spite and pity, though only the pitying part was directed at you). "That's you. The guy loves you already. Call it situational stockholm or just that damned knightly instincts of his, but you are the apple of his eye." She tried to soften her smile into something humorous, but it fell short.

"Bottom line. You're the replacement motivation. Just until he gets enough of his memories back to get invested in the Princess' wellbeing." She flicked a rupee off the stump she'd gathered them on, expression very closed off as she continued.

"Whenever Mr. hero gets a little too comfortable playing house, we're supposed to dangle you in his face and get him interested again. That you seem invested in his success was just a bonus. Be it the Will of Hylia or just simple coincidence, doesn't matter. You're useful, and if it gets the Princess out of that Hell, we're willing to use that."

Another smile, sharp but honest. "It's our duty after all, to serve the royal family. I'm sure you understand." Despite the way the information settled sourly in your stomach you nodded, keeping your expression as even as possible.

She noticed though, and suddenly her hand was on yours (you hadn't noticed it tightening into a fist). "Don't fret, Apples." She smiled again, softer this time. Eyes lighted with a compassion that held such raw honesty despite her earlier words. "My sister and I are not going to let the elders use you like that. You might have asked yourself why Bluey isn't here instead, since, you know-" She smirked, side-eyeing Adino who'd gone some distance off to try to find more bananas (to take more of your rupees, the little bastard).

"We will fulfill our duties. For the protection of Hyrule and everything we love. But not at your's or your dear Hero's expense. At least, not like that. You see, Bluey has something I do not, and that is a gentle touch. She'll take care of the Hero in the way he needs, not the way that'll get the fastest results." Her smirk widened. "And she's got more of a rebellious streak than me too. Trust in her. She'll protect your dear Hero. Even if she has to spit in the elders' eyes to do it. She never could put her heart aside for the sake of duty."

You were silent for a time, digesting her words with the weight and attention they deserved, before looking back to her. A smile on your lips, and your hand out before her in the gesture of a shake.

"I look forward to doing business with you then, Red." You began, letting the edge of your resolve sharpen your eyes and embolden your words. "Let's do our best to protect Link and save Zelda. We'll give it everything we've got."

Red grinned, full and bright and smug (so unbearably smug, like she had won the lottery. which they didn't have here, and you were not interested in introducing any time soon either). "I knew you were gonna understand. The Goddess wouldn't choose just anyone to guard her chosen's heart."

You blinked. "What?"

Red picked up another rupee, flicking it at you. "What~?"

---

Now, off to work! And then the shadows to rest.

[misfortune-plays-love-nikki]

Honestly still considering changing my avatar, but... Idk what I would do lol

[loveharlow]

SEVEN [SEASON 2] - 002 (PART 1)

PAIRING ‧₊˚ JJ Maybank x Fem!Reader

SYNOPSIS‧₊˚[8.2k] A trip to Charleston leads to a wild chase through Kooksville and an unexpected reunion that turns the pogues worlds upside down, amongst other heartbreaking events...

WARNING(S)‧₊˚ swearing, mentions of death, mentions of firearms, unestablished relationship, poor communication, tw // jiara mentioned, mild angst

NOW PLAYING‧₊˚

A/N‧₊˚ don't shoot me pookies, it's for plot value😬

˗ˏˋ series masterlist ˎˊ˗

IT WAS THE NEXT MORNING AND THE FOUR OF YOU WERE RIGHT BACK IN MR. SUNN’S CLASS. You had a permanent smile on your face from last night and something had shifted between you and JJ in the hours between then and now. While you were driving to school in the car you two had fixed up together, you’d made a joke about him being your passenger princess, the blonde laughing and then absentmindedly planting his hand on your thigh for the rest of the ride.

You were starting to feel like yourself after weeks of walking around like a ghost and you were holding out hope that after this was all over, once the cloud passed fully, that you could give JJ the answer he deserved. 

Right now, you were muffling laughs as Mr. Sunn rambled about the current unit topic, you and JJ sending tiktoks back and forth, phones hidden under the desks. 

“Mr.Sunn,” A man emerged in the open doorway, dressed down in a suit with an envelope between his fingers. Your laughter died as your attention went to him. “Can I borrow Mr. Heyward for a moment?”

The teacher looked dumbfounded between Pope and the man at the door, chalk clutched between his fingers. “Uh, we’re in the middle of a lesson.”

“My apologies, it won't be long. I’m from the Vanderhorst Foundation, Mr.Heyward was previously in the running for our scholarship.” He pressed once more, Mr.Sunn sighing and giving in, motioning for Pope to get up. Pope looked at the three of us before getting and leaving the room. 

Your eyes met JJ’s across the room, both shrugging. Kiara was too engrossed with trying to peek out of the door from her seat. Even though the classroom was fairly quiet, it was still too far to hear any part of the conversation. 

Maybe he was there to offer Pope another chance which would be, for one, great but also impeccably poor timing. You glanced up at your teacher as his attention turned back to the board, slouching in your chair and shooting a text in the group chat the four of you had.

You

think they’re giving him his spot back?

Kie

doubt it, the deadline’s more than dead :/

JJ

maybe they still want him, pope’s a certified genius

Just then, Pope came power walking back into the classroom, turning a few heads as he did so. He practically fell into his seat, turning around to face you, JJ, and Kie, holding the envelope the man from the foundation had in his hand just minutes ago — flipping it to reveal the very same wheat symbol that was branded into the gold bars.

“What the fu-” JJ started, gaining the attention of Mr.Sunn who had very teacher like expression of warning, causing JJ to trip over his words. “Fu-fudge…” He cleaned up. The teacher gave him a look and turned back around in his chair.

“We’ll talk about it after class.” Pope whispered, nodding and turning around his seat. 

THE FOUR OF YOU BOOKED IT TO THE LIBRARY AS SOON AS THE BELL RANG, the middle-aged hag of a librarian shushing you at the door. You found an empty table and crowded it as soon as possible, all ears waiting on Pope.

“That was the guy from the scholarship committee.” He started, putting the envelope in the middle of the table. “But that’s not all. Read it.” He urged, JJ being the first to swipe up the letter but he hesitated to read. You were sat next to him, the both of you across from Kie and Pope, so you leaned over his shoulder.

“What? What’s wrong?” You asked. JJ angled the paper in your direction, eyeing the two people in front of him nervously as you immediately spotted the problem — the letter was written in cursive. JJ couldn’t read cursive. “Oh, it’s fine, I got it.” You reassured, gently taking the letter from the blonde’s hands.

“What?” Kiara asked, brown eyes fleeting between the both of you. JJ shook his head, wiping his palms on the fabric of his cargo shorts.

“Nothin’. I just, I can’t read cursive.” He dismissed cooly but you could tell the subject made him slightly insecure. “What does it say?” He deflected, looking back at you.

You cleared your throat before reading, paper clutched between both of your hands. “Dear Mr.Heyward, I am reaching out because I may have material evidence that can exonerate John Booker Routledge…” You trailed off, shocked eyes meeting those around the table before you continued reading. “...It is of vital importance that you come and meet with me in person at my offices at twenty-seven King Street, Charleston at eight PM sharp, tonight. Please come alone…?” Your face twisted at that. No way in hell was that happening. “Regards, C.Limbrey.”

“Charleston?” JJ exclaimed incredulously, eyeing Pope’s endlessly pacing figure. “That’s like an eight-hour drive.”

“Plus, the ferry.” You added. “If you want any chance of getting there tonight we’d have to leave, like, right now.” 

“I have a free period.” Kie shrugged, sighing. “I gotta tell my mom, though…”

“Alright but guys?” You piped up, meeting each of their eyes before continuing. “If we get it this time, there’s no way in hell we are giving it to Shoupe. It's gotta go to higher ups or some shit.” 

“Agreed.” JJ nodded, standing from his seat and grabbing his backpack, you following his lead before Pope, who was crouched in front of the library computer, spoke up.

“I think whoever this Limbrey person is, they might be related to the captain of the Royal Merchant.” He told the three of you, JJ and you sharing a look before rounding the table to stand behind the boy at the computer, a webpage pulled up — a biography for ‘Captain Herman Limbrey’. 

Well. Charleston it is, then. 

“I AM SO SICK OF THIS SHIT!” Kiara’s mom’s voice traveled through the rolled down windows of Heyward’s truck. You, JJ, and Pope were sat with the music playing lowly as Kiara attempted to reason with her parents about where she was going. 

The family of three was visible from the driveway, but you could no longer hear the conversation as their voices lowered. 

“They’re takin’ it really well.” JJ quipped sarcastically. You were sat in the middle of the two boys, Heyward’s truck not having a backseat made this drive even more dreadful. “How’d you get this rig?” The blonde asked the boy in the driver’s seat, referring to his father’s truck. “I know your old man didn’t let you have it.”

Pope spoke absentmindedly, eyes too focused on the girl arguing with her parents some feet away. “I undid the intake valves on the carburetor, made it start pinging.” 

JJ nodded his head in approval, shifting his weight in the seat. “Mm, and now you’re just gonna 'take it to your cousin Jeff’s house, just gonna get it fixed, and crash overnight’.” He suggested to which Pope agreed. “I think I’m rubbin’ off on you, Pope. Lyin’ to your old man, stealin’ his truck…”

You quickly nudged the blonde in his side, shooting him a look. He held his hands up in mock surrender and bowed his head. “Ma bad. Sore subject.”

Pope simply sighed, tipping the hat on his head. “I’d say we have about eighteen hours before my pops loses his shit. So long as we get it back before then, we should be good.” Just then, Kiara came storming in the direction of the vehicle, yelling at her parents over her shoulder.

“I’m not going to boarding school!” She shouted, JJ opening the door for the both of you to get out and allow her into the car but she paused in her tracks when her dad began shouting.

“Look at your life, right now! Look at your life!” Kiara looked around at the three of you and then back at her father, shrugging carelessly and not sparing a word. Pope then peeked his head out of the driver’s side window. 

“I, um, I promise to have her back at a reasonable hour and safe.” He threw out, holding his hand up as if he was asking permission. Kiara looked at him, shaking her head. 

“Kiara, listen to me,” Her mother started, not exactly yelling but her voice traveled clearly. “You wanna go? Then go. But if you don’t come back at the proper time, then don’t. Come back. At all!”

You turned to Kie from your place next to JJ. “Hey, don't even worry about it. It’s the same threat each time, you know they won’t go through with it.” You told her quietly, in hopes of not offending her parents but offering her some sort of comfort. 

Kiara didn’t say a word as she ducked into the car, you piling in as JJ squished himself in next to you. 

“This shit would be so much easier without parents...” She scoffed, throwing her bag down on the car floor as JJ shut the passenger side door.

You and him both shared a look, knowing Kie probably didn’t fully think about what she was saying or who was around. You both grimaced at one another before looking away.

“God, 's so hot in here.” She complained throwing her head back. “Remind me why we didn’t take your car again?” She directed the question at you. “I mean, isn’t it drive-able now? You and JJ spent like every day working on it…”

“Yeah, but it doesn’t have the willpower to make it to Charleston and back just yet.” You told her with a small shrug. The girl simply groaned, trying to adjust herself in between you and Pope so it wasn’t so tight.

“Okay, could you stop moving like that? It’s making it hard to drive.” Pope inquired, pulling out of her driveway and heading down the road.

“There’s no space dude, there’s twice as many people in here than this car was built for.”

“Okay, JJ and Y/N, can you guys lap up or something?” The suggestion almost made you cough. Sitting on JJ’s lap for the next few hours did not seem like a good idea, considering recent events.

“Why can’t she sit on my lap?” Kiara asked, cocking an eyebrow.

“Because she’ll block the rearview.” Pope threw out, annoyance growing in his tone. 

You looked to JJ for some kind of reassurance, he simply nodded and motioned his hands for you to come on. The car was still moving so you tried your best to be careful, the blonde spreading his legs to make a little more room for you to sit between them.

Once you had yourself settled, it was almost like JJ didn’t know where to put his hands. He had them planted on his on thighs beforehand so he accidentally laid a hand on your thigh before quickly removing it.

“My bad.” He muttered nervously. You could see his face faintly in the passenger side mirror.

“It’s fine. I don’t mind. I’m the one kind of in your space, right now.” You shrugged, trying your best to come off nonchalant, as if this whole scenario didn’t make your heart go crazy. 

“You sure? I mean, I got pockets, I can just-”

“It’s cool, JJ.” You cut him off reassuringly, the blonde hesitating before letting his hand make home on your thigh. You didn’t know how to sit, if you should lean back on him, anything. But you figured if you made it awkward, it was going to be awkward. So you took a deep breath and simply leaned back into him, the boy making no protest about the movement. 

The only thing you couldn’t ignore was the growing erection that was pressing against your leg, harder by the minute. Heyward’s truck was no smooth riding vehicle, so the ride was quite bumpy. You could still see JJ’s face in the passenger side mirror and he looked mortified.

Neither of you were stupid — if you could feel it, you knew he definitely could. And if he could feel it, he felt terrible knowing you could too.

“I’m so fucking sorry.” He muttered out, coming out more like a sigh as he ran a hand down his face. You shifted your eyes to the left to see Kie on her phone and Pope was too occupied with driving, probably deep in thought about how much trouble he was going to be in if his pops found out about all this.

“It’s-” You cleared your throat before speaking, shrugging one shoulder. “It’s fine. Shit happens.”

“Nah, it’s not.” He groaned. “I can try and move so you can sit more on the seat-”

You cut him off quickly. “We’ll be at the Ferry dock soon. Honestly, JJ. Don’t sweat it.” You said finally.

The action did make a small well of discomfort bubble in your stomach with your last sexual encounter being non consensual and traumatizing. Just because it was JJ didn't quell any of your anxiety but you were trying not to live life as a victim.

A few deep breaths and you were calming down.

You could understand his humiliation and had your relationship with him been in different place, maybe you two would have laughed it off. But with this newfound depth of your “friendship”, it had you both sitting in silence the rest of the ride.

“MY PARENTS ARE SO PARANOID ABOUT ME BEING A POGUE LIKE IT’S THE WORST THING THAT COULD EVER HAPPEN…” Kiara complained leaning against the passenger door of the truck. The four of you had it made it to the ferry just in time to catch the current ride. You and JJ, who was rolling a blunt, were sat in the back of the pick-up truck across from one another, Pope leaning on the side paying the three of you no mind. The awkwardness between you two had alleviated by the time you reached The Ferry, but the situation still lingered in your mind.

Seagulls squawked as the boat sailed the water, the sizable ship making its way slowly but surely. 

“Hey, I hear they got good weed at boarding schools, though.” He replied optimistically. “Y’know, ‘cause all the rich kids got a shit ton of money to blow.”

Kie shrugged, dismissing the blonde’s hopeful piece of information. “I’m not going to boarding school.” She protested firmly. “If they want me to go, they’ll have to kidnap me. I don’t even know what their problem is. I mean, my dad was a pogue, you know that, obviously…” She trailed off, throwing an arm out in your direction. “They’re so hypocritical and overbearing. Why can’t my parents be more like yours?”

You couldn’t contain your expression of offense at Kiara’s words, the statement flowing so freely from her lips. So carelessly. “...You want a dead father and an underlying criminal mother who couldn’t give less of a shit about you?” The question was rhetorical but you wondered how she planned on explaining herself.

“Of course not, I didn’t mean it like that.” She cocked her head as if you were being unreasonable. “It’s just that, you can’t deny that this whole thing has been easier for you without parents watching your every move and breathing down your neck. That’s... all I was saying...”

You drew your lips into a thin line, arms crossing defensively. “Okay, well, my dad was murdered and my mother probably had something to do with it. Not to mention she tried to kill me, so not having two parents hasn't really been a choice for me, Kiara. But hey, ‘can’t deny that this whole thing has been easier’ for it, right?”

“I wasn’t saying-” She tried to defend with half a scowl on her face before Pope jumped in, JJ tapping your shoulder and offering you the blunt he’d been preparing. You took his from between his fingers, taking a long drag as Pope spoke.

“Okay, can we not argue? Please? I’m already mildly seasick enough as is.” He suggested, Kiara muttering a ‘fine’ under her breath as she adjusted her ponytail. “Kie, have you tried to hit JB back on that number?”

“Like, twenty-million times.” She groaned. “Some random lady at a hotel keeps picking up the phone.” 

Pope sighed, shifting his weight. “Well, until they contact us again, we gotta keep trying to clear John B’s name. Right now? This letter is our best bet.” He concluded, rubbing his hands over his head. You turned slightly to be able to see him, offering the joint to the boy.

His eyes fleeted between Kie and the smoking object, contemplating. She simply crossed her legs and arms, offering the boy a mischievous smile. “What Pope are you gonna be today?” She asked.

He seemed to ponder for a few more moments before shaking his head, you retracting the blunt and passing it back to JJ as he spoke to Kiara. “I’m good, gotta stay focused.” 

“I’ll take that.” JJ offered himself up, plucking the rolled object from your fingers with a smile.

Kiara simply nodded, her smile flattening out into a grimace. “Good Pope…” She said. “Boring Pope.” And you didn’t miss the way Pope’s face fell.

“I’VE READ THIS LIKE A THOUSAND TIMES AND IT STILL MAKES NO SENSE.” Kie explained from her place between Pope and JJ, you once again on the blonde’s lap as Pope cruised through Charleston. You’d gotten off the ferry a few hours ago, the sun now lower in the sky. “The Limbrey’s own like half of Charleston. What do some elite Kooks from Charleston known about a murder on Kildare?”

“I’m more concerned about why Pope specifically?” JJ questioned, eyes looking up at the driver. 

“Yeah. ‘Please come alone’? That’s off-putting, to say the least.” You added, sitting almost slanted in JJ’s lap in order to lean on the door. You were both a little hazy from the weed so your nerves were a lot calmer. 

“I had the same thought.” Pope chipped in. “I was thinking it’s probably because-” He cut himself off as a cloud of smoke erupted from the hood of his dad’s truck, blinding the road ahead. “Aw, shit, come on!”

“Pull over.” Kie demanded. “Jesus, that’s a lot of smoke. Even for your dad’s truck…” JJ began cough, you using your hand to cover his mouth as he rolled up the window. When he had it successfully rolled up, he gently removed your hand from his mouth. 

“Pope, I got sensitive lungs, dude.” He coughed out. A filter of smoke filled the car, you trying to wave it from in front of your face as it made your eyes burn. 

“I’m pulling over, okay?” Pope assured, but the car wasn’t slowing down. Pope swerved to the side but instead of pulling over, the car kept going off the curb until it was cruising through a patch of grass next to a quiet farm and you didn’t miss the rim that fell off of one wheel fly by the driver’s side window.

“Every time we let Pope drive, nothing goes right.” You muttered as the car came to an abrupt stop, the hood still smoking. You heard the engine die as Pope put both hands on top of his head. 

“No, no, no…” He whined as he hopped out of the car, JJ following suit and helping you before jumping out himself.

“It’s gonna blow up.” Kie worried, crawling out of the passenger side herself. 

“It’s not gonna blow up.” JJ told her, coughing one last time and rounding the hood as Pope attempted to fan the smoke away with his hat. “You most likely unhooked the radiator, Pope.” JJ suggested, eyeing the state of the vehicle. “Damn, you knocked the entire hubcap off.”

“Yeah, the Limbrey’s might have to take a rain check for tonight.” You added, scratching the back of your neck and eyeing Pope pitifully. The boy had a look on his face — somewhere between terror and disbelief.

“There’s still, uh, public transportation?” Kiara tried to reason, not seeming completely sure about the suggestion herself. You took it upon yourself to life the hood and examine the parts yourself, picking up a little bit about cars here and there from JJ.

“Yeah, it’s definitely the radiator…” You said aloud, sighing. Pope groaned loudly behind you.

“My dad’s gonna kill me!”

“No, he won't. I’m sure-” You were about to reassure the boy before you took one glance back at the car. The smoking, hubcap-less, mess of a car. “Okay, he might. He might…”

“Look, Pope, buddy, I’m sure there’s somethin’ we can do, right?” JJ offered, putting a hand on the solemn boy’s shoulder. You took the time to pull out your phone, you didn’t have many bars out here but enough to open up the ‘Maps’ app on your phone.

“There’s a mechanic garage about fifteen miles south of here.” You announced, looking out at your three friends. “Think your dad’s truck can make it fifteen more miles?”

THE SUN HAD COMPLETELY SET BY THE TIME THE FOUR OF YOU MADE IT TO THE GARAGE. What should’ve been a mere thirty-minute car ride took nearly an hour, Pope being too afraid to drive more than twenty miles an hour and making a pit stop to check under the hood again.

The boy in question was inside, negotiating with the owner of the shop. It was some place called Archie’s Auto Repairs, right next to a gas station and rest stop. You figured you were killing about three birds with one stone – car repair, refuel, and food.

JJ and Kiara were waiting in the truck while Pope spoke to the man in charge and you went inside to relieve yourself and get snacks. You were in the gas station bathroom, finishing up with washing your hands when you looked at yourself in the mirror.

Surprisingly, you didn’t look like complete shit. Your hair was a bit frizzy and you look tired but you looked better than you had in the last month. You felt better than you had in the last month. Ever since that text from John B came through, it felt like everything was returning back to it’s normal state, like your life had hit the refresh button.

And maybe after everything settles and John B is cleared, things could be different but in a good way. This new life you were building, with JJ and Marley, it was starting to make you envision you had never really seen before. A life with JJ as something more than a best friend. You’d thought about him like that a few times throughout your friendship but it was JJ. You needed him and you didn’t want to ruin something so special because you had an on and off crush. But this one stuck. Maybe it was the kiss, or the almost sleeping together, you didn’t know. But something in your head was screaming at you to give it a shot. Something inside of you was reaching for him, calling out for him.

So maybe, once everything was okay again, you could figure that out.

Leaving the restroom, you cruised down the aisles of the shops — candy bars, chip bags, and sugary drinks, the whole selection look appetizing when you hadn’t eaten in over five hours. You grabbed four sodas and two family sized bags of chips and took them up to the register, the older, gross looking man eyeing you up and down as he scanned your items.

“That’ll be nineteen sixty-eight.” He slurred, bagging your goods as you fished for the twenty in your back pocket. “You’re a pretty little thang, aren’t ya? How old are ya, darlin’?” He asked, leaning his arms on the cashier’s counter, bumping the register. You cringed, sliding the bill across the surface.

“Not old enough.” You sassed, snatching the bag from the counter and leaving out the door, the bell ringing above you as you left. “Perv.” You scoffed, rolling your eyes as your rounded the corner of the shop to see the truck come into view.

Just as quickly as you rounded the corner, you hid behind it. Your heart had stopped for a moment as your registered exactly what it was you had just seen. Biting your bottom lip, you slowly peeked your head around the corner to find that your eyes had in fact not deceived you — Kiara and JJ were kissing in the trunk of Heyward’s pick-up. She had both of her hands on his cheeks, pulling his face into hers as his own gripped the side of the truck for stability.

You immediately tore your eyes away when they pulled apart, hiding behind the wall once more. You couldn’t hear them. Maybe you were grateful for that. You were torn between wanting to cry and wanting lash out on them both. But maybe you had no right, maybe you were the fool in this situation.

It was JJ. JJ Maybank. Half of the female pogue population could probably describe in detail what was hidden beneath his pants. And Kiara? Well, who would turn her down? But she was supposed to be “with” Pope and JJ was giving you all types of green lights. But maybe you were blind and couldn’t see them for the red flags that they clearly were.

But you refused to cry. But that didn’t mean you weren’t pissed. You felt a bit played, in all honesty. And by JJ of all people. And how could Kie do that to Pope when he’s less than ten feet away? They weren’t together or anything, sure. But rules of friendship and respect just seemed so thrown out of the window in the past sixty seconds. 

So, shaking it off, you rounded the corner with the bag in hand. JJ was scratching the top of his head while Kie fiddled with her fingers in her lap before his eyes found you, immediately perking up.

“And the potty princess returns!” He threw his hands up in celebration. “Ooh, did she bring snacks? What’s in the bag?” He asked, coming closer. When he reached you, you pressed the bag into his chest, attempting to keep him at a distance. Letting him have the bag and not even sparing the two another glance, you hopped into the passenger side of the vehicle, absentmindedly slamming the door shut in your silent rage. You hadn’t realized that one of your hands was balled into a tight fist. Loosing your hand, you left crescent-shaped marks in your palm.

You didn’t know how you felt or what you wanted to do about. So you just sat there, listening to the night air, the crickets, the cars that passed by. You felt like JJ had just stomped on your heart and you weren’t even sure if you could be mad at him for it. But you should’ve known.

You’re a pogue. There’s always a calm before the storm. Nothing good comes without something bad.

A COUPLE HOURS HAD PASSED. Pope had found an empty field to park the truck in — shaded by a large, thriving willow tree. None of you really had enough money for a hotel and the money spent on one would be a waste, anyway. 

Surprisingly, there was no night chill in Charleston. The four of you opted to sleep in the trunk of the pick-up, using your jackets and flannels as blankets for comfort. You hadn’t spoken since witnessing what happened at the garage, even Pope was taking weird glances at you the entire ride.

At this moment, Pope was knocked out, Kiara right behind him. You felt a snarl of disgust edge your way onto your face when she leaned over to peck the curly-haired boy on his cheek before closing her own eyes and drifting off. What was she doing?

A part of you was angry that she and JJ kissed, of course. JJ had led you on with this ruse of giving yourselves time to figure out what was going between you two — whether is was grief-driven or genuine. And Kiara had been playing tug-o-war with Pope’s feelings for weeks, months almost, and the moment he has his back turned, she locks lips with his best friend.

As a friend group, you all had your moments. But you never went behind each other’s backs. Especially never like this.

So, you slept alone. As alone as you could, anyway. You were curled up in the farthest place in the trunk from the other three, closest to the front of the vehicle itself. The pit in your stomach was finally starting to settle as the beginning of sleep started to overtake you when a warm hand curled itself around your shoulder, startling you.

Your eyes shot open as you whipped your head to the side to find JJ’s face hovering over yours.

“Jesus.” You whisper-yelled, rolling your eyes before looking at the blonde once more. “What do you want?”

At your standoffish tone of voice and straight to the point question, the boy drew his lips into a thin line, letting his hand slide from your shoulder. “Okay, someone’s grumpy.” He tried to joke, a lazy smile on his face.

You stared blankly at him for a few beats, blinking. “Goodnight, JJ-”

“Okay, sorry sorry…” He protested quickly, looking behind him to make sure he didn’t wake the other two when the volume and pitch of his voice raised before looking back at you. You shifted to lay flat on your back, staring up at JJ as he stared down at you, leaning his weight on one of his arms. “What’s wrong with you? You’ve been actin’ weird since we left that sketchy ass gas station.”

You simply cocked your head. “What’s wrong with me?” You whispered in response, an air of frustration surrounding your voice. “What’s wrong with you?”

He reeled his neck back at your reversal, his face twisting in confusion. “Wh-Nothing’s wrong with me. You basically threw a bag full of snacks at me and jumped into the truck. Did I say something? Was it the potty princess thing ‘cause you know I was just messin’ around.” He guessed, taking your lack of reaction and response as a sign that maybe that wasn’t the problem. “Did I do somethin’?”

“I don’t know, JJ. You tell me.” You pressed, eyes never leaving his own. He genuinely seemed to rake his brain for answers before settling on one that made your blood boil.

“No, I don’t think I did.” The statement sounded more like  a question when it tumbled from his lips. You couldn’t do anything but scoff and roll your eyes, prompting the blonde to try and clean up his answer. “Yes? I don’t know what you want me to say here-”

“Nothing.” You snapped. You were so hurt and angry that you could feel your eyes twitching as you looked at him. “I don’t want you to say anything else to me.” You warned, shifting to turn on your side and effectively away from him. “Ever again.”

“...C’mon, Y/N. Are you just fuckin’ with me or somethin’?” When you didn’t reply, he put a hand on your shoulder, attempting to pull you over to face him. You just shook him off. “Can you tell me what I did?”

The sadness in his voice almost made all the anger fall from your bones but you couldn’t allow yourself to be the weak and vulnerable. Especially not for him. Not anymore.

“No. Now, leave me alone.” You mumbled, shifting to get comfortable for the last time, hearing him sigh and lay down himself behind you. You felt one single tear fall across the bridge of your nose before you closed your eyes. Maybe it was a misunderstanding or something, but your brain couldn’t come up with any explanation of excuse that could explain what you saw. You wanted to talk about it but then again you didn’t. But you knew eventually you’d have to, tonight just wasn’t that night. In a million years, you never thought you’d feel this way because of your best friend.

For the first time in your entire life, you didn’t trust JJ.

“THEY’VE RUN CHARLESTON FOR, LIKE, THREE-THOUSAND YEARS.” Pope explained as the truck pulled to a stop in front of a large, three-story, gated property. It was the next morning and the sun had quite literally just set in the sky. Pope had woken the three of you up at the very first crack of dawn so you could make it there ‘on time’. You’d tried to remind him that ‘on time’ would’ve been last night, but you let him hang on to hope.

It didn’t help that the truck was significantly more crowded. You weren’t eager to sit on JJ’s lap this time around and surprisingly, Kiara wasn’t eager to take your place. Thankfully, the house was only a couple hours from where you slept.

“These Kooks make our Kooks look like Pogues.” JJ proclaimed, staring out of the window and up at the large, standing building. “You sure this is the place, Pope?” He asked, in awe of the property.

“Pretty sure.” The boy sighed, opening the driver’s side door and exiting, JJ following right after as you and Kie exited the vehicle as well, closing the doors behind them. The four you walked up the black, wrought iron fence. Pope held the note in his hands, reading off the address in confirmation.

“Talk about home security…” JJ trailed off, looking at the rather sizeable, sharp points at the top of the fence.

“Are those spikes to keep people out?” Kiara inquired.

Taking a good look at the property through the bars, you noticed a couple of things. You shook your head, a look of disappointment on your face. “No.” You spoke for the first time in hours, the three of them turning to you as you pointed to a section of the yard. “The slave quarters are over there.” You explained, looking at the three of them. “The spikes were to keep people in.” Was the last thing you said before heading up the steps to the front door, the three of them following behind you.

You let Pope take the reigns when you reached the door, him knocking three times on the structure before you heard heavy footsteps coming towards it from the other side. Despite the footsteps, almost a whole minute went by before anything happened.

Pope, nervous and jittery, went to knock again — getting two good ones in before someone opened the door. A middle-aged white man with small, beady eyes and short light brown hair. The expression on his face didn’t look like one of someone who was expecting guests.

Leaning against the door frame, he eyed the four you individually before settling on Pope, an odd smile growing on his features as he pointed at you friend. “You must be Pope.” He said almost excitedly, crossing his arms. Pope stumbled for a response. “Ms. Limbrey was expecting you yesterday.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. My car…broke down on the way up here.” Pope explained, trying to mask his  uneasiness. 

“Carburetor blew up in the middle of Nowheresville.” JJ voiced from behind Pope. He didn’t look nervous at all, he looked ready for anything. “Sorry ‘bout that.” He said, little emotion to his voice despite the apology.

“Yeah, she was, uh, real upset when you didn’t show up.” The man told Pope, a southern twang to his voice, almost as strong as Shoupe’s. 

“We tried to call but there’s no number on the invitation.” Kiara piped up smally, looking at the invitation as she spoke. “We got here as fast as we could…”

“She also expected you to come alone.” The male said, eyeing you, Kiara, and JJ as he said it. 

“Well, he didn’t, so…” You added in, crossing your arms and eyeing the man up and down. “Where’s the ‘she’ with all these demands anyway?”

Pope edged in front of you when the man took a threatening step forward, JJ also shuffling forwards. “Look, these are my friends. They helped find the Royal Merchant, too-”

“The instructions were explicit.” He cut Pope off mid-sentence, eyes boring into yours as he leaned forward, his voice lowering to a condescending whisper. “Your friends…can stay outside.” He reprimanded, straightening out and turning back to Pope.

“We’re kind of a package deal, man.” JJ turned his nose up at the man standing between the four of you and the inside of the house. 

Pope turned to the blonde. “JJ, it’s okay. I got this.” He assured, sending a small nod his way. JJ took his words at face value, sending a nod in return and taking a step back. 

“We’ll be right here…” Kiara trailed off in support, sliding a gentle hand down the length of Pope’s arm. You simply rolled your eyes, something JJ didn’t fail to notice. 

“We’ll keep the car running…” You warned, eyes never leaving the suspicious man in the doorframe. 

“Well, c’mon now. Ms.Limbrey can’t wait to see you.” He said, stepping aside to allow a weary Pope into the mansion. The boy in question entered the home, not without a glance back at the three of you out on the front step, the door closing menacingly slow behind him.

“Fucking creep.” You scoffed, turning and heading down the steps swiftly.

“Hey, where are you going?” Kiara asked, running after you, watching as you walked the length of the wrought iron fence, examining the spikes. 

“What does it look like? I’m gonna find a way into this…house of horrors.” You mumbled, shaking each of the poles for a weak spot, failing to find one. You resorted to attempting to climb the fence but didn’t even manage to get both feet up onto the structure at once. 

“And do what exactly? What if you trespass and ruin all our chances at clearing John B’s name?” The girl asked, her face twisting in annoyance as you sighed and hopped down off the fence, turning to face her. Shifting your weight, you shoved your hands into your back pockets before speaking.

“Oh, like you did when you made Pope drop the camera?.” You shrugged, jutting out your bottom lip. “Y’know, the one that had the video of Ward killing someone-”

“That wasn’t even my fault!” She defended.

“I think we all collectively agreed that it was…” You argued nonchalantly, shooting the girl a grimace before walking off in the direction of the parked truck that JJ was leaning against, watching the entire interaction occur.

Before you’d turned away you could’ve swore Kiara opened her mouth to reply, but one warning head shake from JJ and her lips were sealing themselves shut. You were about to open the passenger door when JJ’s hand gripped your upper arm, the blonde staring out in front of him with a stoic yet pointed look on his face.

“Can you let go of me-”

“Does that look voluntary?” He asked, tone deep. You followed his unwavering gaze to find a blonde woman and the man who opened the door leading Pope further into the yard behind the gate. Pope was looking back pitifully at the three of you as the man pushed him forward and the woman, a cane by her side and a limp in her walk, led them both further into the greenery.

“Not at all.” You practically whispered back, attempting to take a step forward when JJ tightened his grip. 

“Hold on, hold on.” You turned to him an impatient and questioning look on your face, throwing a hand out as a way to ask ‘what?’. “They’re goin’ around the back alley.” He said hurriedly, rounding the driver’s side of the truck as you hopped in the passenger side, Kie piling in beside you. “We’ll meet ‘em on the other side.”

JJ started the car, driving it slowly in order to draw too much suspicion — with the Limbreys or surrounding neighbors. You could almost hear all three of your hearts beating in panicked unison with every turn made. You didn’t know what these people wanted with Pope, but if they didn’t drop this whole super secret act, they wouldn’t be getting anything.

Driving and driving, and still no Pope. JJ eyes were focused ahead as you and Kiara looked to the sides of the road for any sign of him. “Where did they go?” Kie asked, peering out of the window. She sounded sad. The trio of you continued driving around, Pope nowhere in sight. You were starting to get worried, extremely worried.

If the Limbreys were like the Camerons of Charleston, there was no telling what they could be doing with your friend right now.

“Okay, stop the car.” You said, putting your hands on the dashboard.

“What?” JJ asked, although he slowed the vehicle down, bringing it to a stop on the side of the road. You reached over key and threw the passenger door open before climbing over the girl. “Where the hell are you going-”

“Ouch, that’s my- Ow!” Kie shouted.

You threw yourself out of the vehicle before standing up and dusting yourself off, looking side to side before deciding to go back in the direction the alley was in. Even if you didn’t see Pope, there was a way in and there was no way in hell you weren’t taking it.

You set off quickly in the direction of the alley, Kiara and JJ calling out for you before two pairs of footsteps were trailing behind you. You passed a few people on the sidewalk, unintentionally shoulder-checking them in your haste.

“Watch it!”

“Hey! Rude…”

Reaching the alley, you made a sharp turn into the greenery. You could hear grunts and groans that stopped you in your tracks — you were no stranger to the sounds of violence. Your power walk turned into a sprint, pushing leaves and branches out of your path before reaching Pope, who was beating on the creep who opened the door.

He had him pinned down to the concrete, both of them reaching for what seemed to be a taser. Your eyes fleeted between the two brawling guys and the weapon before you decided to kick the object behind you in the direction of Kiara and JJ.

Pope delivered one last blow to the man’s face before getting up. “C’mon.” You demanded, being the first to run away, back in the direction of the truck. The four of you took the short way — hopping over a cement wall that guarded a small portion of the yard. 

The car was a few feet away since you ditched the scenic route, the four of you wasting no time in jumping in. JJ in the driver’s seat with the three of you piled in as well.

“Who the hell were those people?” Kiara panicked, out of breath as she slammed the passenger door shut.

“I don’t know but they’re crazy as shit!” Pope’s voice cracked as he settled into the vehicle. “We need to get out of here now.” He warned, wide eyes drifting in JJ’s direction as the blonde started the engine and hit the gas almost all in one motion as the vehicle leaped forward, sending you all down the road.

Near moments after JJ had hit the gas, leaving a smoke trail in his wake, you looked behind you to see a car speeding behind you, the fishbowl windows allowing you to see the driver clearly. “Creepy guy recovers fast.” You panted, looking back ahead of you and prompting JJ to peek in the rearview mirror, pressing the gas a little harder.

“Here we go now!”

Heyward’s truck was going faster than you ever deemed possible, flying down the road. “Hey, JJ, slow down. This is a one-way.” Pope warned, the truck never slowing down. JJ was too focused to hear much of anything, you were gripping the seat for dear life. “This is a one-way!” Pope got louder as JJ started to reach a busier part of the town. A car suddenly appeared in front of you, the headlights blinding.

“Car, JJ! There’s a car!” You warned, grabbing a hold of the steering wheel yourself and making a right turn before the truck could collide with the SUV. Rounding the corner, you almost collided with two pedestrians — the two heads of blonde and light-brown hair looking eerily familiar for the slightest of moments.

“Jesus, look out!” Pope and Kiara said in unison as JJ took back control of the wheel and avoided hitting the two people.

“Get out of the road!” JJ shouted as he redirected the car on the street.

“Those were pedestrians!” Kiara reprimanded, gripping the passenger door for stability. 

“That was evasive driving technique right there, y’all!” JJ patted himself on the back as you turned to look out of the rear window to see the man still hot on your trail.

“You sure about that ‘cause he’s still following us.” You warned, looking at the blonde for the briefest of moments.

“Hang on, I’ll lose him.” JJ assured you all, making a sharp turn that sent the three of you crashing into each other. Just as he turned into an empty alley, a pop sound following a hiss of air and smoke came from the truck. “I thought you said he fixed carburetor!”

“He did!” Pope said as the car came to a stop of its own.

“No, Pope, he clearly did not!” JJ retorted as he opened the door, Kie doing the same on the passenger side. The four of you got out of the truck, fanning the air and coughing.

“Number one rule, never trust mechanics.” JJ spoke mainly to himself as you all grabbed whatever you brought along with you out of the trunk of the car just as the car following you pulled in the alley as well. “Shit. Go, go, go!”

The four of you booked, the smoke hopefully giving you a bit of time as you ran through the alley. You and Kiara looked behind you as you ran, seeing the man get out of his own car and tuck something into his jacket.

“He has a gun.” You muttered, looking back ahead as you ran. “He has a fucking gun!”

Pope and JJ glanced behind themselves, past you and Kie to see the man not far behind. The squad of you picked up the pace, making the first turn available but you swore you heard someone calling your names.

The man was picking up the pace as well, getting closer to you all. “We might have to split up!” JJ suggested from the forefront of the group.

“Are you crazy?” You shouted, being right behind the blonde. “No way!” You continued, almost tripping over an unleveled section of the concrete. JJ, not paying attention, ran into a mailman, sending the packages in his hand flying into the air.

“Sorry ‘bout that!” He apologized over his shoulder. JJ led you all into another alley, this one much narrower causing you all to run in a line. The guy was falling behind, which was a plus.

Coming out of the alley, you all came face to face with a couple on a bike almost getting run over by them. But after taking a longer look at the two people who almost pummeled you all with their bike, your heart dropped farther down in your body than it ever has.

Every single one of your five senses seemed to cease to exist in this moment. You couldn’t hear anything, white noise filling your ears as your vision blurred on the edges, only allowing you to see what you could only logically explain as two ghosts standing in front of you — a very much alive John B Routeledge and Sarah Cameron standing in front of you, covering in mud and dirt and who knows what else.

Whatever breath you had been holding in your lungs released itself, the release of air allowing your senses to return, almost like coming up out of the water.

All of your expressions were somewhere in between a blank stare and a smile. You wanted to reach a hand out to see if they were real.

“...Get in. Get in! Get in!” John B broke the silence. His voice hadn’t changed. It was exactly like you remembered. The four of you did as he said, still partially in shock, piling into the bike. You, Kiara, and Sarah crowded into the cab of the pedicab as JJ and Pope pushed it from the back as John B pedaled as hard as he could. 

You couldn’t take your eyes off of his back as he pedaled, unless of course it was to direct the same blank stare in Sarah’s direction. The Limbrey guy plus two other men were chasing the group of you now, JJ and Pope hopping onto the sides after it gained enough speed to ride smoothly with the six of you on it.

The entire ride to the boat, your friends were whooping and cheering. And on the inside you couldn’t be happier or more relieved at how well the universe seemed to work in your favor but for some reason, your body wasn’t so eager to show it on the outside. 

For a whole month, you’d grieved someone who wasn’t dead.

Once you reached one of Ward’s boats the Sarah knew the location of — My Druthers Too, you all wasted no time jumping into it, sailing in the direction of The Outer Banks. Back home.

feedback is appreciated! thanks for reading.

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[mysteryshoptls]

SR Vil Schoenheit - Playful Dress Voice Lines

Summon Line: Do try not to completely lose your heads... Is what I'd like to say, but it's difficult to not feel excited at an amusement park.

Groooovy!!: I don't come cheap, you know. A spur-of-the-moment show like this is just a special one-time case.

Home: A show? How fascinating.

Swap Looks: This hurts me to wear.

Home Idle 1: Anyone can easily become a star? What a thing to say, Fellow. You know nothing of the efforts that people will single-mindedly put forth for that chance.

Home Idle 2: I see they have a haunted attraction here as well. Let's head there, I may be able to find some good inspiration for movie makeup or props.

Home Idle 3: Just as I thought, Leona sticks out like a sore thumb at an amusement park. He seems more suited to be the uninterested parent who was dragged to chaperone.

Home Idle - Login: I've been to an amusement park many times for work, or photoshoots, but it's been many years since I've been to one for leisure. Come now, let's get a move on.

Home Idle - Groovy: Are you hungry? Then, you should try this hamburger. It's quite healthy, with whole wheat buns and plenty of vegetables.

Home Tap 1: I have a traditional jacket paired with more modern boots. The tulle accentuates my silhouette. What do you think?

Home Tap 2: I used waterproof makeup today. So, we should go and line up for a water ride!

Home Tap 3: They have an attraction where you fly through the air in a bug-shaped cart? I feel as though if Jamil were here, he would be screaming even before the ride started.

Home Tap 4: The cricket mascot is dressed like quite the gentleman. That badge on his chest is nicely stylish, as well.

Home Tap 5: You want to ride the roller coaster? Alright then, I don't mind. My hairstyle today is set so as to not be tousled by the slightest bit of wind.

Home Tap - Groovy: Don't tell me you've grown tired of spending time with me? I thought not. Now onwards, we must hit every attraction.

Requested by @farfalla049.

[probablyasocialecologist]

As urban populations boom, urban agriculture is increasingly looked to as a local food source and a way to help combat inequitable food access. But little is known about how productive urban agriculture is compared to conventional, rural farming. A new study digs in, finding urban gardeners and hydroponics can meet and sometimes exceed the yields of rural farms. “Despite its growing popularity, there’s still quite a lot we don’t know about urban agriculture, like whether the yields are similar to conventional agriculture, or even what crops are commonly grown,” says Florian Payen, an environmental scientist at Lancaster University and lead author of the study, published today in AGU’s journal Earth’s Future. The new study compiles studies on urban agriculture from 53 countries to find out which crops grow well in cities, what growing methods are most effective, and what spaces can be utilized for growing. The researchers find that urban yields for some crops, like cucumbers, tubers and lettuces, are two to four times higher than conventional farming. Many other urban crops studied are produced at similar or higher rates than in rural settings. Cost efficiency remains an open but important question. Most studies on urban agriculture have focused on green spaces, such as private and community gardens, parks and field growing operations. Payen’s work includes “gray” spaces — places in cities that are already built but could be used for growing, such as rooftops and building facades. In both green and gray spaces, the study examines a suite of crops grown in soils versus hydroponics, horizontal versus vertical farming, and natural versus controlled conditions. “Surprisingly, there were few differences between overall yields in indoor spaces and outdoor green spaces, but there were clear differences in the suitability of crop types to different gray spaces,” Payen says. Certain crops like lettuces, kale and broccoli are more naturally suited to be grown vertically in indoor spaces than others. “You can’t exactly stack up apple trees in a five- or ten-layer high growth chamber,” he says, “though we did find one study that managed to grow wheat stacked up like that.” Other crops, like watery vegetables (e.g., tomatoes) and leafy greens, performed well in hydroponic environments. And crops grown in fully controlled environments can be grown throughout the year, allowing harvests to happen more times per year than in open-air environments, which leads to higher annual yields. But scientists will need to keep studying these systems to plan cost-effective agriculture solutions. The finding that urban agriculture can have similar or greater yields to conventional agriculture “is exactly what we have been waiting for in the urban agriculture research community,” says Erica Dorr, an environmental scientist at AgroParisTech who was not involved in the study.