#Zion my man

[idle-skull]

I was trying to get some refs for a drawing and… Why is he built like that…

[atomic-bomn]

I hate how you can't talk more about yourself in the game, especially about the DLCs

Imagine the courier just dropping random shit about themselves/their travels to the companions.

Cass: That Madre place looks pretty neat, wish I could go.

Six: Ehh, the poster looks better than the actual thing. Its actually pretty small.

Cass: Wai-you- You've been there??

Six: Yeah, there was this old guy and a ghoul old guy and a red cloud or something.. I dunno the ghoul was making some rancid ass Martini's and I was pretty plastered the whole time. Someone about Veronica too don't tell her I forgot what I was supposed to let her know.

-

Arcade: You've been to the Big MT?! That place is sought after by almost every technological group! Do you have any clue how much this discovery could help the followers?! Let alone the wasteland?!

Six: Eh, the dudes there were dicks. All floating around pretentious-like. I killed 'em. One crazy guy he was pretty chill though. Talked to my brain too. Oh yeah they took that out. Also my spine. I asked the machine to make my dick bigger but he didn't have the "Proper equipment".

-

Raul: Boss, You were in Zion? Heard that place was in some sort of war.

Six: Yeah, It was cool. Got a neat ass tattoo. Killed someone named Gobbledegook, I dunno the Tribals had some alcohol I was pretty plastered.

-

Boone: You just came the divide? Thats a hellscape from my recollection.. used to be NCR.

Six: Yeah, don't remember much honestly I was drunk going in. Someone had a big boner for me though. Bullshit, Bearshit I dunno. I convinced him of something and he nuked some tribe.

[cosplayamaradolce]

Just two New Canaanites remembering to leave enough space between them for Jesus as they get their picture taken. Amen.

[a-slut-for-leon-kennedy]

That moment when she’s a primordial ancient goddess who’s the embodiment of Time itself and has been around since before the universe was created and you’re just a sad little bug man

[muniimyg]

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹ bbydaddy!jk (24) ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹ *nsfw*

series m.list // taglist request closed

note: hihi ,, sorry this update took so long (>'-'<) hope u like it <3 personally think it could've been freakier but also planning on another extra of pregnant oc n bbydaddy jk fucking LOL so i wouldn't worry abt it... ch is lengthy fyi … also,, bby2’s name reveal 😝

warnings: pregnancy mood swings, hot tub sex (oc is in her 2nd trimester) pregnant oc, jealousy, dirty talk, breast play, some slapping, kissing, and fucking

🏷️ permanent taglist: @joonsjuice @pamzn @defzcl @maryy1300 @whoa-jo @taetaecatboy @jksusawife @un06 @firesighgirl @rrosiitas @butterymin @parkinglot-nights @musicjournalsjdb @kissyfacekoo @jkslvsnella @vampcharxter @bloopkook @somehowukook @bbystarcandykoo

//

so much happened before the wedding. 

for instance, you two pulled zion out of daycare and enrolled him in preschool. with all your leave time from work, this allowed you to spend more precious moments with him and while still having time for yourself. another thing is that you and jungkook finally pushed through packing up and moving homes. truth be told, you two bought the penthouse a few years ago but paused on the mini renovations due to your busy work schedules and personal circumstances. on top of that, when jungkook came back from new york he talked about leaving the company to start something of his own. 

if that doesn’t feel like a lot… you two got married. 

married. 

in the midst of the aftermath of your wedding and moving process; you and jungkook are expecting another. and wow, does it feel like you two can’t catch your breath. the timing of everything has truly never felt more chaotic yet so right. 

you and jungkook deserve every bit of this new chapter.

this new life. 

so, with everything in motion, you two decided to take a take a moment and slow things down.

to catch your breath, step away, and spend some intentional time together before the next wave of change rolls in. a cabin trip, tucked away from the noise, just the two of them and the growing baby you carry, is the perfect escape.

when the car slows to stop, you take a moment to admire the soft snow that coats the cabin’s rooftop and blankets the surrounding pine trees. jungkook turns off the engine and gazes out the window. as he marvels at the sight, he turns to you and thinks; 

there’s no comparison. 

you catch his gaze and scoff at him. 

“don’t look at me like that,” you warn. “we haven’t even made it inside the cabin. i’m 5 months pregnant, jungkook. i can’t fuck in this audi like—”

“you’re so beautiful,” he leans over and kisses your forehead. “that’s all.”

you tighten your lips and nod. 

he’s been awfully good at making your heart flutter these days… could be the pregnancy hormones. could be the fact that you married the right man. somewhere in between, you can’t even find it in yourself to question it or think any deeper. you’re just thankful. you’re so grateful for him. 

jungkook steps out first.

he inhales deeply and stretches. taking in the stillness of the mountains, the snow beneath him crunches under his boots. he hurries around to open the car door for you. offering his hand, you smile and take it. your gloved finger curls around his as you carefully step out of the car, one hand instinctively resting on your round belly. 

"oh.. wow. honey, this is beautiful,” you murmur in awe. 

jungkook tugs you close and kisses the top of your head. "it's aight. i think you're—"

"oh, my love..." you look down at your belly and pout. "your daddy is so annoying. he's such a yapper. i hope you take after me and know when to shut up."

the first day passes faster than you expect.

after settling into the cozy cabin, you and jungkook decide to explore the small downtown area. it’s a charming place, with snow-dusted streets and twinkling lights in every shop window. you wander hand in hand, stopping to sample street food—warm, savory bites that fill the crisp air with delicious smells. then there’s dessert, sweet enough to leave you both way too full but completely satisfied. by the time you finish, the sun is setting, and you head back to the cabin before 6pm, ready to settle in for a cozy evening.

the two of you curl up on the couch, binge-watching bad romcoms. between the predictable plots and over-the-top drama, you’re both laughing harder than you have in weeks. every ridiculous twist has you snorting, and you spend half the time arguing over the characters’ choices, tossing playful jabs at each other’s taste in movies. you haven’t felt this light, this refreshed in each other's company, in what feels like forever.

it’s a stark contrast to the year before, which was filled with more ups and downs than anyone should have to endure in a lifetime. even now, it’s still hard to look back at those difficult times without a weight settling in your chest. but it’s moments like this—when you’re playing a board game with jungkook, battling over a meaningless win—that make your heart soar.

jungkook, of course, refuses to let you win, which might be the funniest thing he’s done in a while. he’s always been competitive, but when it comes to you, he usually doesn’t mind losing, letting you take the victory just to see you smile.

but tonight?

tonight’s different.

you’re both teasing each other mercilessly, throwing out fake strategies and dramatic groans every time someone gains an advantage.

“you’re really gonna make me earn this, huh?” you laugh, shaking your head as he shoots you a smirk.

“you better believe it,” he replies, eyes gleaming with playful determination.

"does the fact that i'm carrying your baby—"

"no, no, no—d-don't pull the milf card," he panics. "don't be a cheater like that."

"what's it to you? if i'm a milf, you're a dilf."

the back-and-forth banter fills the cabin with warmth, the kind of joy that’s rare and precious.

every time he tries to outwit you, you only love him more for it. this is the jungkook you fell in love with—the one who knows how to make even the simplest moments feel special.

as you look at him mid-game, you think to yourself; you win no matter what.

this is the love you fought for, and right here, in this cozy cabin, surrounded by snow and laughter, you wouldn’t have it any other way.

when the next morning comes, you and jungkook wake up slow together.

over the past 5 months, you’ve been so nauseous, your feet have been swelling (you cried the other day because your old snow boots wouldn’t fit), and your body just... feels less like your own every day.

between the sleepless nights and aching back, you’ve been longing for a break, something to help you feel even just a little bit more like yourself again.

he’s constantly touching your belly and making sure you aren’t bending your knees or lifting a finger. you’ve always known him to be an acts-of-service type of guy, but he surely is a different man when you’re pregnant.

he’s so fucking clingy...

but you are too.

jungkook knows how much you’ve been struggling; he sees it in the way you wince when you stand up too fast, or how you press your hand to your lower back after a long day. when he suggested a babymoon—an escape to a peaceful spa retreat—you didn’t hesitate to agree.

he planned everything perfectly, even down to booking a specialist renowned for her prenatal massages. you both have been counting down the days, excited for the chance to unwind together.

before heading to the spa, you and jungkook decide to grab some coffee.

today, the weather is cool with a crispness in the air that feels refreshing after yesterday’s warmth.

jungkook parks the car at a nearby café on the corner of the street and helps you out. the small bell above the door jingles as you walk in. the vibe inside is laid-back and peaceful—wooden tables, soft lighting, and a chalkboard menu that gives it a homely feel, but the low hum of conversation fills the space with a quiet buzz of life.

you both are a little more sensitive this time around, but who could blame you? between the pregnancy hormones and the life changes, things have been tough. but it’s okay. things are better now.

life has never felt more full.

jungkook squeezes your hand before heading up to the counter to order, while you take a seat by the window, a few tables away from the barista station. from your spot, you can watch him as he approaches the counter, where a young woman with bright eyes and an easy smile greets him.

"good morning! what can i get for you today?" she asks, her voice chipper and smooth, a little too warm for your liking.

maybe it’s the pregnancy hormones, but… truly, there’s something in her voice you dislike.

she leans slightly against the counter, brushing a lock of hair behind her ear, her attention fully fixed on jungkook. you tilt your head and sit back in your chair a little more. this is interesting.

jungkook offers his usual friendly smile. "one iced americano, and one matcha oat milk latte, please."

the barista starts punching in the order, her eyes flicking up to meet his. "iced, even in this weather? bold choice. i like that."

jungkook laughs softly, the sound filling the quiet space and making you smile unconsciously as you fiddle with the napkin in front of you. you can hear snippets of their conversation from where you sit. the barista's tone shifts just slightly—casual but laced with subtle flirtation.

"so, aside from iced coffee at 8am, do you ever drink coffee at 4pm?" she asks, her eyes lingering on him a bit longer than necessary. "my shift ends at 4pm. how do you like your coffee then?"

you feel your shoulders tense, a little twist in your stomach forming as you watch. it’s harmless. you know it’s harmless, but something about the way she’s looking at him makes your heart squeeze uncomfortably.

jungkook, ever the oblivious sweetheart, glances toward you. his gaze softens when your eyes meet. without missing a beat, he grins and says, "with my wife."

the barista falters for a moment, caught off guard. her smile tightens, and she forces a laugh, quickly recovering.

"well, aren’t you… committed. that’s nice to see."

you catch the way jungkook's lips twitch, clearly proud of himself for the quick response. he gives you a little wink, and despite the initial rush of warmth from his words, the insecurity starts to creep in again. you glance away, pretending to be interested in the view outside the window, but you can’t shake the way your stomach churns. it’s a familiar wave of self-consciousness washing over you.

it’s stupid, you think to yourself.

but... why does this bother me?

even if he always says the right things... fuck.

your hand then drifts down to rest on your belly, the growing baby inside serving as a constant reminder of the changes you’ve been going through. the swelling, the mood swings, the way your clothes don’t fit the same anymore—it’s all there. it bubbles just under the surface. seeing someone so effortlessly pretty and carefree—someone who hasn’t been carrying another human for months—playfully flirting with your husband only magnifies that feeling.

jungkook pays, grabs the drinks, and walks over to you, placing one in front of you as he takes a seat.

"got your favorite," he says, flashing you that same smile that always melts your heart.

you force a smile back, but it doesn’t quite reach your eyes.

"thanks, honey."

he narrows his eyes slightly, reading you like a book.

"everything okay?"

"yeah, i’m fine," you reply, taking a sip from your cup, hoping it hides the tiny lie. the weight of your feelings lingers, leaving a heaviness in the air that jungkook can sense, even if he doesn’t fully understand.

for now, he lets it slide, though you know him well enough to recognize that he’s not going to leave it alone for long.

the spa day is as luxurious and blissful as you imagined it to be. 

you tried your best not to let your waves of jealousy and insecurity get in the way of experiencing this with jungkook… but it’s a lot easier said than done. 

you couldn’t help but feel self-conscious the entire time. you couldn’t help but notice the longing gazes the staff had as jungkook walked by your side… it made you feel sick to your stomach. 

… like, yes! he’s handsome. 

but he’s also mine? so close your eyes. 

aside from that, you and jungkook had a great time with the massages and truly felt relaxed. it was so nice to spend time with him like this… which is why a part of you immediately feels guilty when he helps you get dressed at the end of the session. 

“honey, you okay?” jungkook says, as he helps zip up your jacket. 

you look at him, trying to blink the thin layer of your teary eyes. “y-yeah.”

he blinks at you. 

“is your body feeling okay? was the massage too much—w-what’s going on? why are you about to cry?”

“no,” you step closer, your arms slowly sliding around his neck and draw him in. your fingers lace gently at the nape of his neck, brushing against the soft strands of his hair. “it was perfect. thank you so much for bringing me here, honey. i love you.” 

“i love you too.”

instinctively, jungkook leans into you, your forehead almost touching. his gaze softens, and there's a tenderness in the way you hold him. he loves this. it’s like you’re grounding yourself in his presence. even though he knows you’re withholding some truth, he’ll take this for now. 

“you sure?” he attempts once more. 

“mhm,” you nod, making an effort to lighten your tone. “let’s get some dinner, yeah?”

dinner was lovely. 

it was the kind that left your heart and stomach feeling equally full. jungkook had made you laugh so much, telling stories and cracking little jokes that slowly but surely melted away the weird mood from earlier. you’d almost forgotten about the lingering unease as his laughter filled the cozy cabin, a warmth settling between the two of you. 

now, as you both lounged comfortably in the soft glow of the fire, jungkook’s playful grin returned.

“you know,” he said, nudging your knee, “we’ve got that hot tub just waiting for us.” his eyes sparkled mischievously. "let's take advantage of it."

you tighten your lips.

"come on," jungkook grins, tugging gently at your hand. "the hot tub’s waiting for us. you know you want to."

you hesitate, glancing out toward the balcony where steam rises into the cool evening air. the idea of sinking into the hot water sounds tempting, but the lingering weight of your jealousy from earlier makes you feel uneasy. you haven't said anything about it yet, but it sits at the back of your mind. 

jungkook’s eyes search yours, his expression softening as he steps closer, wrapping his arms around your waist. 

“you deserve to relax, honey. this whole weekend is for you,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your temple. "let's enjoy it."

you want to tell him. 

you want to explain the knot in your chest, the little twist of insecurity that made you feel silly. but instead, you just smile—small and tight—because he's right. this trip is supposed to be about unwinding, about feeling good again, and you can’t bring yourself to ruin the mood.

“okay,” you say, your voice quieter than usual. “let’s do it.”

jungkook’s face lights up instantly, a boyish grin spreading across his lips. 

“love you, mama.” he pulls you in for a quick kiss, his excitement infectious as he heads toward the balcony to get the tub ready.

the outdoor hot tub and sauna sit on the edge of the property, steam rising into the chilly air. as you stand at the edge of the hot tub, you strip down your robe. jungkook, who has been sitting in the hot tub mentally preparing himself for you—is more than delighted to watch you lower yourself into the bubbling water. 

jungkook looks up from the water with soft, adoring eyes. his expression is completely relaxed yet focused, entirely captivated by you. the steam rises around him, but it’s the warmth in his gaze that stands out the most. a kind of quiet affection that radiates with every glance. his lips are slightly parted, and though he says nothing, the way his gaze clings to you speaks volumes. he's utterly consumed by you. every detail of your presence pulling him deeper into that gentle obsession. (gentle… yeah right). his tattooed arm rests casually on the edge of the hot tub, but even with his laid-back posture, there's an intensity in the way he watches you. 

truly, you're the only thing in the world that matters to him. 

offering him a small smile, you finally sink into the water and sit. jungkook moves from his spot to in front of you. he opens his arms and you let out a giggle as he wraps himself around you. you can’t help but giggle… you aren’t blind. 

jungkook comes to you—wet, tatted, and toned. 

as his arms envelop you, the warmth of his body against yours sends shivers down your spine. you can’t help but admire the way the water glistens on his skin and how hot and bothered his tattoo sleeve is making you. for a second, jungkook pulls away to smirk at you… when he does so, it ignites a flutter in your stomach. you find yourself lost in the depths of his eyes. 

you’re convinced that the glint in them can heal your soul. 

in this intimate space, the world outside fades away, leaving just the two of you wrapped in your own little bubble. you can feel the steady rhythm of his heartbeat as he pulls you closer, a reminder of the love you share, a bond that only grows stronger in moments like this. the steam swirls around you, but it’s the connection between your souls that truly warms your heart, making you more and more aware that this is where you belong—right in the center of his gaze.

"this was a good idea," you breathe. “i needed this."

jungkook kisses the top of your head before he moves and slips in beside you. his arm naturally rests around your shoulders. 

“anything for you, mama,” he whispers, breath visible in the cool air. he tilts his head, sneaking a kiss on your cheek. you smile as he does so, feeling like you could melt. “i’m so happy you’re happy.”

you laugh softly, resting your head on his shoulder. "you make me happy.”

jungkook’s face lights up. 

it’s moments like these where he feels his heart is lifted. there’s nothing better than hearing you say shit like that. it’s so simple but it wholeheartedly gives him the will to live.

jungkook’s hand drifts to your belly. 

“i miss zion.” 

you laugh. “even though he’s your number 1 hater?” 

jungkook scoffs at you. though what you said is true, he refuses to accept it. 

“he’s gonna have to learn to love us equally… or at least, need me a little more,” he sighs. “to be honest… i’m kind of worried about when you go into labour and the entire new shift in our family. don’t get me wrong—i think zion is a great kid. as unbias as i can be, he truly is kind. he’s curious and understanding at the same time. he’s funny and sociable… but i’m concerned that if he isn’t into me right now and he’s been awfully clingy with you… w-well, i’m not sure how we’re gonna navigate through that. our baby is going to need you and i want to protect your peace of mind and recovery… but i also want to be an accessible father to zion and leave enough time and things for myself. i d-don’t know if i’m making any sense but—”

you nod, listening to him. everything he mentioned makes sense to you. you feel the same way and have also worried about how zion will be as a brother. he’s completely capable of it and he has shown excitement regarding your pregnancy—but it’s different when it happens.

“i feel the same way,” you admit, taking your hand and resting it on his cheek. “everything is so new and there’s so much more than just welcoming a new baby… all your feelings are okay and i appreciate you being able and willing to talk about them even when they don’t make sense to you. see, when you do and say things like this—it eases me. we’re not going to get everything right. we’re going to mess up and there will be times where our priorities rearrange and the adjustment sucks… but we’ve been through worse and made it through. this is our life together, honey. we’re going to make it work. we’re going to be okay.” 

jungkook takes your words in. 

they give him a rush of comfort and feels instantly better. there’s no other way of describing the kind of relief you give him.

he believes in you so much. 

you reach over and kiss him. he kisses you back, happily and deeply. when you pull away he lets out a sigh of relief.

“in other news… yoongi and his new girlfriend? don’t they remind you of us?” jungkook begins. “like when we were dating and how dramatic we were about always being together? she lives two cities away and he’s constantly driving back and forth.”

you laugh, recalling all the lovestruck texts yoongi sent you. not too long ago, he asked for anniversary date ideas and it made you feel funny. with his past girlfriends, he never bothered to ask for help or even get his friends involved. he was usually quiet about them… but with this new one, he’s on blast. 

you and jungkook met yoongi’s girlfriend a few months ago. just before the wedding actually. she was really warm and brought a brighter part of yoongi out. you’ve never seen that side of him. he would glow while she smiled. it was decided then and there that she would be invited to your wedding.

“yoongi is falling in love again," you say with a laugh. "maybe a little fast but it’s also really nice to see him passionate about someone… and he’s grown.”

jungkook chuckles, nodding. "yeah, he’s head over heels this time."

you pause, then casually add, “she’s really pretty and kind… so i understand why he’s lovestruck.”

the silence that follows is enough for jungkook to realize there’s more on your mind. you glance over at him before finally asking, “she’s pretty right?”

“i’m married.”

“you’re allowed to think other women are pretty… l-like the barista from this morning. she was pretty, right?” you repeat. 

jungkook’s eyes slightly widen. his body stiffens, not expecting the shift. 

“i think you think she’s pretty.”

you bite your inner cheek. “because she was pretty—”

“no.”

“it’s okay,” you attempt to sound cool. “you can admit it. i won’t be mad—”

“i think my wife is pretty. the prettiest.”

“she was pretty—”

he shrugs, eyes beginning to panic. “honey, i couldn’t tell ya—“

“jungkook,” you groan. “be serious—“

“i am,” jungkook lets out a harsh scoff. “are you?”

you feel a little sick. 

not because of the pregnancy but because you know you’ve provoked him. suddenly, his gaze lowers and the unbothered expression he had on a second ago is long gone. 

“___, my love—my wife… you know you’re carrying my child, right? not only have you carried my first, second, and now third—holy shit. i don’t mean to sound so angry right now, but if what you’re insinuating is that i haven’t fucked you deep enough to feel the love i have for you then—fuck. we have an issue here. i am angry.”

you heart stops the moment he mentions your second pregnancy. “no. that’s not what i—“

“tell me now,” jungkook demands. “have i not kissed every inch of your body enough for you to understand how in love i am with it? with you? have i or have i not, huh? or should i fuck you right now so i can prove shit? fuck, ___. am i not a grown-ass man that falls at the feet of his wife—no. don’t look away. i want you to fucking look at me when i’m talking to you.” 

you tighten your lips and look up at him. for a moment, you look down and away. he caught your look and pulled you back into reality. his reality. 

the atmosphere shifts. 

“are you okay?” he asks for the nth time today. “are we okay?”

jungkook chases for your eyes. you look at him and feel overwhelmed. you can’t help it. before you know it, tears stream down your face. 

“i d-don’t know,” your voice shakes. “i don’t mean to pick a fight. i don’t know why i’m so insecure right now—i just… i didn't mean to be so sulky the entire day. please, jungkook... i love you and appreciate everything you've done for this babymoon... and i know that the barista flirting with you this morning was nothing. i know it was nothing. girls have hit on you way more than that but i think because i’m pregnant and she was so pretty—”

you let out a sob. “i know you love me and there are more important things in our life than to be crying over stupid shit like this… but i can’t help it. w-why do you have to be so handsome?” 

you hit his bare chest and he moves back, pretending like it hurt. pouting, you cross your arms at him.

“a-and you can’t blame me. you always flirt with me and get me all hot and bothered but haven’t actually fucked me in 2 months. 2 months, jungkook! what the fuck! this is literally your fault. i look and act like this because of your fucking cum—”

“oh my god,” he hisses. “honey, do you know how hard it’s been for me to not rip your clothes off? do you have any idea how i feel when i touch you and all you do is glow? as much as this makes me sound like a pathetic loser—i’m scared to. if i fuck you while you’re pregnant, i’m literally going to cumbust. i’m going to fall in love with you even more. i don’t know if i can handle that—can you? god, do you know how much this all means to me? you think it’s just me being inside you again—which, fuck, i miss that too—but to me it’s so much more. i can’t even find the words to say how utterly sick my mind gets when i think about us fucking with you pregnant like this.” 

you stare at him blankly.

“you’re pregnant—your body is changing,” he pauses. “... and i’m so grateful for you. for this divine body. you can be insecure all you want and i will do anything and everything to prove them wrong—but the truth is… i’m selfish right now. ___, i love how needy you are. i love how your boobs overflow in my hands. i love the bump. i love how flush your cheeks are. i love that you can’t bend and i get to do more things for you. i love that you want me more. so fuck. sorry if i don’t give a shit if a young barista hits on me or if yoongi has a girlfriend—i’m captivated by you. i only know you and your beauty. i only want you.”

jungkook has always loved you.

over and over again, he has shown, fought, and waited for you with his love like no other. to be frank, it feels like every day there is a new reason for him to love you. 

when you became pregnant with zion, he didn’t know how to function. he was genuinely mindblown and breathless from how much he loved you. then, as you two went through your second pregnancy and continue to heal together from the circumstances, he thinks; this must be it. 

because there is no way he could love you any more than this. 

… but he does. 

there’s something about seeing you pregnant that makes him fall even harder. seeing you in this light—happier and safe… it strikes him differently. the feeling plunges right into his heart and fills it with more admiration and appreciation for you. 

you see, it’s in the little things. 

how you absentmindedly rub your belly when you talk about the baby, or the way your eyes soften when you feel a kick. he’s in awe of how strong you are, how you’ve adapted to every change with grace, even when it’s tough.

watching you carry his child, seeing the way your love has grown to make room for this new life, has only deepened his devotion. to him, you’ve never looked more beautiful, more radiant—more divine.

the steam swirls around you and jungkook. 

instead of saying more, he leans closer. his eyes lock with yours and you gulp. he brushes a damp strand of your hair behind your ear, his fingertips lingering against your skin. 

it feels like he’s taking forever to kiss you. 

he looks at you needy and desperate. leaning in, he tilts his head and closes in on you. time stops when his lips met yours. he kisses you with such demand.

opening your mouth ever so slightly, you allow him in. he deepens the kiss, melting away any lingering tension. he pulls you closer, his abs touching your bump. jungkook moans into the kiss and you smile. then, he slides his hands around your waist and his fingers play with the hem of your bikini bottom. you let out a gasp when he pinches your ass. he pulls away from the kiss and laughs, before placing a kiss on your shoulder. 

then, he lifts his face and kisses you again. pulling away once again, you giggle as his fingers tug down your bottoms. 

“need you.”

you scrunch your nose at him.

it’s so strange to you because pregnancy isn’t that glamorous. you aren’t blind and jungkook doesn’t exactly do much to wipe the drool that dribbles down his mouth when he sees you paddle like a penguin… but seriously? the hot tub?

“in the hot tub?”

“in the hot tub?” he mocks you. 

you squirm as he successfully takes your bottoms off. he smirks as he tosses them to the side. jungkook then squats and lifts you to switch positions. as he sits, he settles you on top of him. he bites his bottom lip as he concentrates on taking his shorts off. 

"come on," he whines. "it's sexy."

“im pregnant,” you remind him. “i don’t know if i can—”

“you can,” jungkook assures you. “you will.” 

just like that, you fold.

you trust him. 

when he takes his shorts off, he helps you get more comfortable. as you sink into his cock, you plant both of your hands on his shoulders. you wince as you hump and grind on him. 

he feels so big. 

jungkook playfully pouts. “what’s wrong, mama? you were crying about not having me inside you—now that i am, what? what is it? too big?”

you nod as you come down. 

“should’ve prepped.” 

jungkook’s pout turns into a mischievous smile.

“why? this is for me. i like that you’re so sensitive. don’t you? you feel it, right? you’re so tight, mama. can feel you clenching. your fucking pussy has grip… and look at you. fucking yourself onto me like a good girl cos you love this fat cock so much. you love this.”

you nod, feeling his length in your guts. “yes, daddy. love this cock so much. thank you for my baby.”

he inhales sharply before wrapping his arms around you. jungkook rips off your bikini top and stuffs his face into your breasts. he kisses them, taking his time to lick and suck your nipples. when he pulls away, he brings his hands to them. 

he squeezes them tightly and watches the way your flesh spills in between his fingers. your breasts got so fucking big—he loves them. 

“god bless these breasts,” he hums. “you like that, mama? you like it when i play with your tits like this?” 

slap.

“say thank you to me,” he insists. “with my fucking cum, your tits wouldn’t be this delicious.”

you ride him slower. 

“thank you, daddy.”

slap. 

“again. say it like you mean it.” 

you moan as he smacks them once more. 

“thank you, daddy—oh,” you pant as he twists your nipple. he looks at you, mouth slightly opened and eyes darted at you. “t-thank you for my tits. thank you for cumming inside me and always stuffing me full. you’re so big and i’m so thankful. thank you, thank you, thank you—mmfphh—”

jungkook pulls your hair, tilting you back.

he shoves his face back to your tits before licking his way up to your neck. you feel him throb inside you and suddenly think that the jets and led lights in this hot tub add to the tension. it feels so good. 

pleasure is an understatement.

the way jungkook fits inside you is incredible.

it’s near indescribable actually. you must have saved an entire nation in your past life to deserve dick this good. you ride the high, feeling the tightness in your stomach knot more and more. then, finally, jungkook tells you to get off. 

as you do so, he lets go of your hair and takes you by the waist. he bends you over. you plant your hands on the edge of the hot tub as he hisses, smacks your ass, and shoves himself back inside your pussy. 

he fucks you, making sure to have a handful of your boobs as he does so.

it’s what he deserves.

jungkook bites your shoulders as you moan. cheek to cheek, you both begin to pant. he digs himself deeper and deeper, you swear the curves of his dick have engraved themselves into your pussy. 

“f-fuck yeah, mama—t-that’s it,” jungkook murmurs into your ear. “my dirty fucking slut. so needy and bratty when you’re pregnant. you’re my fucking princess.”

“n-not a princess—”

“you are though,” he breathes our sharply. “my babymama… god, i love you. i love this fucking cunt so much. i’m sorry i haven’t been fucking it. practically fucking self sabatoge… didn’t wanna obsess over you even more—f-fuck. you feel so good. i was a fool. i’m sorry, mama. i’m s-so fucking—nghh—”

jungkook slams himself into you harder and harder. the water splashes and the sounds of the hot tub jets are put into second place. you whimper and moan, matching his pace. he feels like he’ll lose his mind soon. 

you sound so pretty.

you are so pretty.

right then and there, jungkook reaches for your clit. he rubs on it, elevating your pleasure. 

"my pretty mama."

"oh my god—"

jungkook lets out a big exhale. “mhmm. feel good, mama? you like the way i touch you? so fucking pretty. the prettiest. f-fuck, ___... daddy’s got you.” 

he lets you enjoy for a few more seconds before bringing his wet hands to cup your cheeks. he tilts your face up and squishes your lips together. he kisses you before moving back to your neck. there, he nibbles on your skin to leave marks. 

“i love you,” he pants. “i love you, mama.”

“i love you too, daddy.”

what bliss. 

jungkook cums first and feeling the way his cum shoots inside you finishes you off. you cum seconds after and reach for kisses. jungkook lowers his face and kisses you. against your lips, he murmurs;

“10 minute break. can we have sex inside for round 2?”

the babymoon turned out to be everything you needed and more after you and jungkook talked (fucked) through your feelings. truth is, all you can really recall is cumming so much you were afraid your water was going to break. for the past 2 months where you two didn’t fuck—he’s made up for it.

once the air was cleared, any lingering tension melted away, and the rest of the trip was filled with small, intimate moments that made you both fall deeper into this new chapter of your lives. there was that one morning when jungkook woke up early, made breakfast, and brought it to bed with the most endearing, sheepish grin. 

“thought we could start the day off cozy,” he said, climbing back into bed beside you. his warmth immediately soothing. you spent that morning feeding each other bites of fruit between soft kisses, the world outside feeling distant and irrelevant.

every night, you two facetimed zion. watching his bright little face light up the screen as he excitedly told you about his adventures with his grandparents. 

“look, daddy, i made a painting for mommy!” he shouted, showing off a messy splash of colors that had you both smiling. 

of course it was a painting for mommy. 

jungkook asked for his and zion said; “i don’t know. maybe baby will make you one.”

during those quiet nights—heads close together, watching zion through the phone or lying side by side, soaking in the peacefulness—you realized just how "married" you felt. this trip wasn’t just a getaway; it was a reminder of the life you were building together, the love that had deepened through every challenge.

as the sun began to set on the last day of your babymoon, the golden light streaming through the windows bathed the cabin in a warm glow. you and jungkook had spent the afternoon doing nothing in particular—just enjoying each other’s company. lounging in comfortable silence, sharing lazy conversations, and occasionally stealing soft kisses.

“hard to believe it’s almost over,” jungkook murmurs, his fingers gently tracing circles on your back as you rested against him. you hummed in agreement, feeling completely at ease as if all the worries and stresses from before had melted away during your stay.

“i could stay here forever,” you replied with a soft smile, half-joking but meaning it more than you’d care to admit. “but i miss zion and the mom guilt is hitting so hard right now.”

jungkook chuckled and kissed the top of your head.

“do you think he misses me?”

you laugh and then cover your mouth. “did you get funnier or something?”

“haha,” jungkook rolls his eyes. “i really fucking hope this baby likes me more.”

you laugh again, sinking further into him. you rest your hand over your belly. your eyes widen when you feel a kick, you grab jungkook’s hand and place it on top of the spot. 

“i think baby will.” you say softly. "hey, we can talk about baby names on our way home! i’m excited.” 

and just like that, the babymoon comes to a quiet, contented end. nothing dramatic or grand—just the two of you, basking in the love and peace that had surrounded you for the past 10 days. 

as jungkook drives, the soft glow of the setting sun filtered through the car windows. jungkook hums to a the music playing. the gentle melody soon turns into him singing softly, his voice filling the car with a soothing warmth.

your hand rested on your belly, and almost as if on cue, you felt a tiny kick. the baby reacts to his singing, little movements following the rhythm. you laugh quietly, placing your other hand over his. "someone’s already a fan of your voice," you said, glancing at him.

he grins, continuing to sing as he squeezes your hand. "oh? i guess i’m the favourite. in your face, mama," he jokes. “finally…” but there’s a hint of emotion in his eyes. as though the simple act of singing to your baby makes everything feel even more real.

you laugh and gaze out the window. 

"yeah. baby likes your voice," you reply, giving his hand a squeeze. 

“you okay?” jungkook asks. “what’s with that look? what’s on your mind, honey?”

"i was just thinking... about names."

jungkook raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "oh? got any ideas?"

you hesitate for a moment, then the name just slips out. 

"zia,” you reveal. “what do you think of zia? i saw it a few times online and in the baby name book… i called her zia once last week and she kicked. the name itself connects to light, family, and brilliance… radiance."

he repeated it under his breath, testing it out. 

"baby zia… i like it." jungkook smiles warmly, taking your hand and kissing it.

you smile back, feeling a sudden surge of love for both jungkook and the tiny life you were bringing into the world.

the name feels right, like it had been waiting for you all along. you can’t wait to get home and share the news with everyone. you can’t wait to go home together, hug and kiss zion, and fall asleep next to your husband.

everything has fallen into place and life is truly so beautiful.

[count-on-mi]

My Dear Brother Part 2 (Chaeyoung)

A/N: Sorry that I am being too busy at work recently, so I really don't have anytime to write. So just another short one for those who have waited for me so long. This will be the end of this mini series.

In Chaeyoung's new home, Chaeyoung sat on the sofa with her long hair spread to the left, her eyes staring at Zion. T who was slowly approaching in front of her. When Chaeyoung's tender lips touched Zion. T's lips, a magic power seemed to be generated that deeply attracted Zion. T.

Zion. T held up Chaeyoung's pink and red face and continued to suck the sweet saliva from her mouth. Chaeyoung also began to kiss back gradually, while she felt a pair of hands reach her chest. Although Zion.T's hands are on top of her clothes, he can still feel Chaeyoung's plump breast curves, and the soft touch is really admirable for a man.

Chaeyoung looked like a shy little girl with a blushing face like she was giving her first time to her boyfriend. Zion. T slowly put his hand into Chaeyoung's clothes, and clearly felt the hot body temperature radiating from Chaeyoung's skin, until Zion. T slowly reaching her back, the cold buckle of her bra formed a clear contrast with the hot body temperature. With a small unbuttoning sound, the bra that tightly wrapped Chaeyoung's plump breasts was loosened. Chaeyoung still held back slightly Zion. T's hand nervously. This slight resistance further aroused Zion. T's desire to conquer as a man.

"Ding dong! Ding dong! "

Just as the two people's passion and desire rose, a loud doorbell rang at an inappropriate time in the house. Chaeyoung and Zion. T had no choice but to suppress their desire and hurriedly got up to tidy up. As the owner, Chaeyoung pretended to be calm and opened the door.

“Jeonghoon”

"Noona"

The person who came was Jeonghoon, Chaeyoung’s younger brother.

"Noona ... Congratulations on moving to a new home ...This is a housewarming gift ... " Before Chaeyoung could figure it out, Jeonghoon handed Chaeyoung a large bundle of toilet paper and a gift box, then closed the door and changed his shoes.

"Huh ... I'm going to prepare some food ... " Things finally became clear. Chaeyoung couldn't just kick her brother out who came to congratulate him, so she had to get up and walk to the kitchen.

Two men who were staying in the living room could only chat awkwardly, especially Jeonghoon, who knew that he and his sister usually had a sexual relationship in private, but this time they were in front of Chaeyoung's real boyfriend. Although he knew Zion. T didn't know the truth but felt an inexplicable feeling of guilt.

Chaeyoung, who was in the kitchen then, also sighed in embarrassment. This seemed to be the first time that she, her boyfriend and her sex partner were face-to-face together. Running to the kitchen would be a temporary way of avoiding this Shura field.

After a while.

"Jeonghoon... you should eat more ... "

"Well... hyung, you should eat too ... "

At the dinner table, Zion. T and Jeonghoon got closer after their brief chat.  Zion. T is treating Jeonghoon like his younger brother, meanwhile, Jeonghoon went out of his way to accommodate Zion. T because he felt inexplicably apologetic. At this time, Chaeyoung became the most embarrassing person at the dinner table.

"Ah...By the way... I brought something good ... " Jeonghoon suddenly stood up and took the housewarming gift box that Chaeyoung had just put aside casually to the dining table and opened it naturally. It was a bottle of fine wine with a high unit price.

Seeing the good wine, Zion. T hurriedly called Chaeyoung to get a glass of wine and happily shared it.

After a round of drinking, the three people looked half-drunk and in a daze. Zion. T’s mind was on the glass of red wine in his hand, which he usually couldn’t drink. Chaeyoung was avoiding Jeonghoon, and taking care of Zion. T who had already drunk. Jeonghoon, already in a daze, saw that his sister Chaeyoung, who had always taken care of him, was now taking care of another man in front of him, and an inexplicable unknown fire arose.

"Noona..." Jeonghoon leaned over, pretending to be drunk and leaned on Chaeyoung's limp body, while calling Chaeyoung coquettishly.

Chaeyoung was busy stopping Zion. T to keep drinking wine, so she didn't have time to resist Jeonghoon's coquettish leaning. Chaeyoung just thought that Jeonghoon was drunk, clinging to her, and acting coquettishly as usual, so she didn't care too much and focused most of her thoughts on Zion. T.

Jeonghoon didn't know if it was the smell of body scent or shower gel, he just felt that the smell emanating from Chaeyoung's body was extremely attractive at that moment. The lust in his heart gradually turns into desire. After drinking enough, Jeonghoon felt Chaeyoung's warm and soft body and smelled the delicious smell. His cock in his pants suddenly became energetic.

"Ah ... Jeonghoon ... don't make trouble ... Oppa is still here ... He is your hyung... right?" By the time Chaeyoung realized it, it was too late. Jeonghoon 's hands had already reached into Chaeyoung's white T-shirt, deftly unbuttoning her bra, holding those plump breasts in his hands and rubbing them, it was a pity that Chaeyoung had to pay careful attention to blocking Zion. T. At the same time, she had to pay attention to the sound of her movements, completely unable to handle Jeonghoon's increasing tease.

"Who is my hyung ... I just want to fuck you in front of him ..." Chaeyoung didn't know whether it was because the men's friendship was so fragile, or because Jeonghoon was so drunk that he was talking nonsense, thinking that the two of them were still calling each other brothers. However, what Jeonghoon is thinking about is that he can't wait to fuck Chaeyoung in front of her boyfriend. Of course, Chaeyoung doesn't know the dirty thoughts in Jeonghoon's heart when she starts to fall into Jeonghoon's touch.

"Oppa... why don't you go to the room and rest first... " Chaeyoung thought that she couldn't go on like this. The clothes on her body were becoming more and more messy, and even one of her breasts was almost exposed. She covered a wet towel on Zion. T’s eyes, pretended to be massaging him gently. But in fact, she was just afraid of Zion. T would see Jeonghoon ’s hands groping her body wantonly. If he wasn't here, Chaeyoung would already have turned around to respond to Jeonghoon and started fucking him, but it is impossible for her to be fucked by another little boy next to her boyfriend.

Zion. T refused Chaeyoung's persuasion. While enjoying Chaeyoung's massage, he raised his head and opened his mouth to taste the red wine again. Zion. T, enjoying the wine, did not notice that Chaeyoung's movements paused for a few seconds.

"Nouna ... so wet ... don't worry, I will satisfy you ... " Jeonghoon leaned his head on Chaeyoung's shoulder and whispered, at the same time, he stood up and dangled his wet fingers in front of Chaeyoung's eyes. Jeonghoon was no longer content to play with Chaeyoung's soft breasts. He quietly unbuttoned the cuff of Chaeyoung 's jeans and put his right hand tightly inside. Chaeyoung is already wet when she is caressed by Zion. T earlier. The nervousness that her boyfriend might notice at any time made Chaeyoung's pussy even more soaked.

"Jeonghoon ... Ummm ... " Chaeyoung resists gently, half drunk and unconscious, has been aroused by Jeonghoon, with only a trace of reason that she cannot be noticed by Zion. T. Having been trained by her sister for many years, Jeonghoon also noticed Chaeyoung's hesitation at this time. Jeonghoon turned over Chaeyoung's red face and kissed Chaeyoung's lips, which were about to speak. He sucked Chaeyoung's tender lips, his tongue kept inserting into Chaeyoung's small mouth, stirring and intertwining fiercely.

This kiss made Chaeyoung fall into the alcohol and Jeonghoon completely. Even though her boyfriend is still here,  she responds to Jeonghoon's kiss, the entanglement of their tongues also moves from Chaeyoung's mouth to Jeonghoon's. Her left hand still gently rubbed her boyfriend Zion. T's face with the towel, her right hand quietly retracted to grasp Jeonghoon's cock, which he had already taken off his pants and stroked it up and down as gently as he was his boyfriend.

Chaeyoung and Jeonghoon kissed passionately for several minutes. From the corner of Chaeyoung's eyes, she glanced at Zion. T who just sat next to them. Her mind, which was originally hazy, suddenly became agitated again. She hurriedly pushed Jeonghoon away and wiped the saliva from the corner of her mouth with the back of her hand.

"Oppa...the towel is cold ... I ... I'll get another one, please wait... " A belated sense of betrayal and shyness hit Chaeyoung, so Chaeyoung panicked and thought of a reason to escape, but Zion. T didn't respond.

"Nonna ... I'm going to fuck you ... Don't moan too loud or you'll be discovered ... " Chaeyoung was in a panic and wanted to escape. After taking a few steps, she was hugged by Jeonghoon behind her and pressed against the wall. When she heard Jeonghoon whisper teasingly in her ear. Chaeyoung subconsciously wanted to refuse but found it was too late. Chaeyoung felt a chill in her butt. Jeonghoon had already grabbed Chaeyoung's little hand behind her butt to block it and held Chaeyoung's plump butt. A familiar cock was inserted into her pussy. Chaeyoung felt the cock gradually going deeper into her body, and Chaeyoung was powerless to stop it.

"Wait ... wait ... no ... no ... ah ... ah ... " Chaeyoung realized that she was really a slut. She was being fucked by another man's cock just a few steps away from her boyfriend. The shameful thing was that even though she said No with her mouth, her body was enjoying the incomparable tension and pleasure, and deep in her heart she seemed to be begging for the cock inside her body to move faster and fiercely.

"Jeong... Jeonghoon... pull out... pull out... no... ah... ah ..." Chaeyoung was unable to resist and had to plead, but can't too loudly in case Zion. T would hear. As a result,  Jeonghoon couldn't hear what Chaeyoung said at all, but even if Jeonghoon heard it, he wouldn't pay attention to Chaeyoung's plea. Because at this time, Chaeyoung's pussy is several times tighter than usual. Jeonghoon couldn't guess that Chaeyoung didn't want Jeonghoon to stop at this time.

As if to show his sense of victory and excitement, Jeonghoon played with Chaeyoung's body. He asked Chaeyoung to kneel on the ground and raised her plump ass high. He pulled out the cock inserted in Chaeyoung until only the glans were left, and then pushed forward fiercely. Pushing deeply and hard, he grasped Chaeyoung's waist with both hands and pulled back, so that Jeonghoon 's cock was perfectly inserted deep into Chaeyoung's body again, and Chaeyoung's whole body slowly crawled forward a short distance.

Jeonghoon fucked her effortlessly, and the strong and intense numbing pleasure forced Chaeyoung to stuff the underwear that had just been taken off by Jeonghoon into her mouth, otherwise, Chaeyoung's uncontrollable moans would have been heard by Zion. T.

Although Chaeyoung's crawling forward had little effect every time, Chaeyoung unknowingly finally realized that the direction they were heading was exactly the chair where Zion. T was sitting. The strong panic and tension made Chaeyoung look back and want to stop it. However, Jeonghoon has long been addicted to tightening feeling from Chaeyoung's pussy that is several times stronger than usual.

"Huh ... It feels so fucking ogg ... " Fortunately when Chaeyoung's forehead was almost touching the leg of the chair. Jeonghoon cummed inside Chaeyoung's tight walls while grabbing her ass hard.  Jeonghoon let out a small groan from the satisfying pleasure that was even more exciting than usual.

Feeling relieved, Chaeyoung glanced at Zion. T, raised her foot and kicked Jeonghoon who was still behind her. His cock was forced to withdraw from her body,  without the clogging of the cock, a large amount of nectar mixed with white semen poured out of Chaeyoung's clit. No man wouldn't be excited to see this look.

"Snor! Snor!"

Chaeyoung was about to explain to Zion. T who was waiting for the hot towel, but Unexpectedly, Zion. T moved even faster, leaned forward and lay on the dining table, snoring loudly.

When Chaeyoung saw Zion. T moved, and her body tensed up immediately. When she saw he had fallen asleep, her body relaxed again. The instinctively tense and loose action makes more cum gush out of her pussy. Jeonghoon got up and wanted to run when he saw Zion .T was moving, Seeing such a lustful look of Chaeyoung, he came to Chaeyoung with his cock that was excited again.

"Let's make a deal... I'll let you cum once more and then you should go to sleep ... " How could Chaeyoung not guess what Jeonghoon was thinking? She looked at her boyfriend who seemed to be sleeping soundly and thought that he wasn't noticed even though they fucked such intensely. It is better to solve Jeonghoon 's desire as soon as possible, so Chaeyoung knelt down next to her boyfriend and looked at Jeonghoon with her face half raised.

Jeonghoon 's cock was so engorged and hard that it was trembling with excitement in front of Chaeyoung's face. Chaeyoung sighed deeply and stretched out her hands to hold the ferocious cock that was covered with veins tightly. Her soft lips gently slid over the huge pink glans, and then her small mouth completely contained the entire sensitive glans and sucked, her flexible tongue rubbed all over the glans from time to time, and occasionally she raised her head to look at Zion. T direction.

Chaeyoung looked at Zion. T, made up her mind again. She moved her hands, caressing and stimulating Jeonghoon's nipples and asshole, which are also sensitive points at the same time. Her small mouth took Jeonghoon's cock deeply and took the entire length into her mouth, and then pulled back the glans, then swing her head back and forth from the base to the glans, sucking back and forth.

"Ah ... ah ... oh ... oh ... " Chaeyoung's oral sex skills are really good. Jeonghoon was quickly defeated. He pressed the back of Chaeyoung's head with both hands and shook his legs rapidly, shooting out a large amount of hot cum into Chaeyoung's tight-sucking mouth.

Finally making her brother cum again, Chaeyoung sat on the floor and spit out a large amount of thick white semen in her mouth onto the underwear that had just been stuffed in her mouth. Jeonghoon also sat on the dining chair with a satisfied look on his face. Chaeyoung saw the expression on Jeonghoon's face, and she whispered to Jeonghoon to go to the room and rest. She turned around and knelt down on the floor with her underwear in hand, wiping the bodily fluids that had just been accidentally scattered everywhere.

However,  something she suddenly discovered lifted Chaeyoung's calm mood up again. The pants between his legs were held up by his erection. Chaeyoung looked at Zion. T in panic and confusion, thinking that the man would have a physiological reaction when he was sleeping.

[wtftaylr]

I MAKE MY TRIMPHANT RETURN with a bunch of outfits. I'm very happy they're finally done!! Click for higher quality!

A few notes under the cut bc i did not work on this since October to not yap about my thought process /silly (i say with peace and love)

Bounty Hunter's Duster: Her first love. She liked being able to shoot that guy right in front of Gomorrah on behalf of Francine Garret. She was loathe to part with the cool hat, but anything for Francine fr.

Daniel Sadie's Outfit: Sadie is the founder of the He-Man Daniel Hater's Club (most of the companions are part of it despite not knowing who Daniel is. It's difficult to get anything more than a sneer and, "a fucking asshole," from Sadie when asked, but for some reason we trust Sadie's opinion). Anyway, despite Daniel being Daniel, we like his outfit. I like to think she stole it off his back in the night before leaving Zion.

Dr. Mobius' Scrubs (+ Glasses): Something she wears a lot post-game while researching the Tunnelers. I just love this outfit. Also the glasses are, through some miracle, her exact prescription. She's never seen clearer.

Vera's Outfit Redux: I redesigned Vera's Outfit bc Sadie would not be caught dead with a giant flower on her hip, respectfully. I referenced a few of Marilyn Monroe's dresses! The jewelry is designed after the Tops logos, gifted by Benny. Sadie doesn't wear much jewelry but, unfortunately, she likes Benny enough to make an exception.

Courier's Duster + Wasteland Designs: Sadie sews and assembles clothing! Expanded on here, but tldr: she's 5'0" so she has to adjust a lot of things to fit her. The only outfit that's ever fit her without her needing to adjust it was the Courier's Duster that Ulysses made for her. She was both surprised and just a little creeped out. Anyway, she'll take parts and pieces from some outfits and combine them together, as seen in the last two designs.

She also made the other two New Vegas outfits from scratch, using fabric and clothing she found throughout New Vegas. A lot of clothing from the Ultra Luxe conspicuously went missing, but don't worry about it. If you tell on her she'll tell you on Benny (not the biggest threat in the world but if you piss off Benny, you piss off Sadie by extension so... not worth it.)

[cracktopus]

Wanna go for a walk?

[inbabylontheywept]

Would you mind sharing the psalm and why you felt that person was the most humanist Mormon? I'm not religious at all but I find these sort of things very interesting.

In exchange I could offer the reason for my url ?

I'm warning you, this is kind of a mega essay, and it's fucking unhinged. Click at your own risk.

(Alright. You clicked.)

Psalms 137

By the rivers of Babylon we sat and wept

when we remembered Zion.

There on the poplars

we hung our harps,

for there our captors asked us for songs,

our tormentors demanded songs of joy;

they said, “Sing us one of the songs of Zion!”

How can we sing the songs of the Lord

while in a foreign land?

If I forget you, Jerusalem,

may my right hand forget its skill.

May my tongue cling to the roof of my mouth

if I do not remember you,

if I do not consider Jerusalem

my highest joy.

Remember, Lord, what the Edomites did

on the day Jerusalem fell.

“Tear it down,” they cried,

“tear it down to its foundations!”

Daughter Babylon, doomed to destruction,

happy is the one who repays you

according to what you have done to us.

Happy is the one who seizes your infants

and dashes them against the rocks.

———

Mormonism has layers. Different cores of believers, cultures within itself. The largest group of Mormons also dominate its image within the larger culture. You know them as the nerdy, cheerful, bubbly dorks on South Park, or the hopelessly naive childlike weirdos from the Book of Mormon musical. Strangely sanitized, "wholesome" people that are, clearly, unwhole. Missing some essential part of the human experience.

(Pain, maybe?)

I think that embracing this image is letting Mormonism view itself as what it wishes it was. A group with all its rough edges sanded off, all its raw and desperate humanity scrubbed away. A clean and godly and slightly unsettling image of joy.

That isn't how it started.

Now, most people know the story of Joseph Smith. Fourteen year old farm boy starts a cult because the whole world if full of idiots, I won't repeat it because you've probably already got it from South Park. But at some point that weirdo cult did become a religion, and I would point to that moment as the Mormon War of 1838.

I don't know how far after the founding that was. Enough that Joseph Smith was a grown man. Enough that the Mormons had around 15-25 thousand members. They'd moved to the Illinois-Missouri area and were establishing settlements.

(They creeped the locals out. Of course they creeped the locals out.)

Eventually, they got pushed out of the county they'd claimed. Jackson County, it was. The state couldn't actually take that county from the people that expelled them, so to try and make the Mormons "whole" for the land they'd bought (ignoring the houses and farms they'd already set up) it gave them a new county.

Next election that came around, that county was sieged. Voting was blocked. Now, the people of the state were terrified that this weirdo voting block was going to take them over. They probably weren't wrong. Some former Mormons had straggled in from the county revealing a frankly corrupt land dealthat the early church had used to transfer resources to itself, and that served as a tipping point. To prevent their state from becoming a religious basketcase, a mob sieged the Mormon county during the next election.

The state tried to return order by sending the militia in to break up the siege, but the militia mutinied. They joined the siegers. A ground of strange, extremist violent Mormons known as the Danites rode out and attacked local settlements that were known to house the families of the militia members.

The Governor at the time - Lilburn Boggs - sent out an executive decree. The Mormons were traitors, and were to be killed on sight. It is the only religion in the US to have ever had such an order made against it.

The Mormons surrendered their county and went to Nauvoo, Illinois. There were again expelled from that city in 1846, and traveled west.

They died in great numbers and they never forgot the homes they lost.

———

I tried to tell the story as sympathetically to the people of Missouri as I could. The Mormons made messes wherever they went, and they unsettled everyone they interacted with. But they were attacked as well, and had a history of violence against them. It should not be totally surprising that they became insular and strange.

Many (most?) Mormons that learn all of their history wind up leaving the religion. It has twists and turns and knots and it is incredibly, overwhelmingly human. I think that's where the facade of Mormon perfectionism comes from - the shame of that. The desire to be something else. But being human is all I've ever wanted. And occasionally, there are people faithful in the church - layers upon layers deep - that know their history.

And they are angry about it.

I think it's more common than people realize. Did you know that until 1930 Mormons swore literal religious oaths of vengeance against the US government for the deaths of Joseph and Hyrum Smith?

I always felt like these were, in some way, the real Mormons. They knew their history, and they loved their church, and they hated what it had suffered all those years ago.

They scared me, those people. But they seemed complete. More complete than the people that had carved out everything that didn't make them smile. They'd walked into the mirror, and touched their shadow, and danced with. Melded with it.

And I knew a few like that. I was taught by one. And he didn't convince me, but he interested me. Gave me some respect for the people I left behind.

———

In the game Fallout: New Vegas, there is a character named Joshua Graham. He's a Mormon. Not like the silly children in adult bodies that they always use on TV. He has gravitas. He has put away his moral compass before, to pursue the dream of one powerful man. Poured his soul into it, helped that man conquer the whole west in piecemeal. He's a somewhat on the nose analogy of the Mormon people themselves, following Joseph Smith. And when he finally failed, when he fought a battle he could not win on the gates of the Old World Hoover Dam, he was lit on fire and thrown into the Grand Canyon to die.

But he did not die.

He says he survived because the fire in him burned brighter than the fire around him. And it seems that way when you speak with him in game. There is something compellingly bright to him. Not shiny like a new toy, or a Utah teenager that hasn't seem just how grim the world can be. He's something blinding, compelling.

But that brightness casts shadows.

He is vicious. He was saved in the canyon by the family he left, the old Mormons of a new world. And he's trying to find that part of him again, regain the soul he lost pursuing someone else's vision. But that old vicious animal part of the covenant is with him. I see Joshua Graham and I see the animal that the Mormons became to survive the West.

And in the game, there is eventually a choice given.

You can lead the tribe Joshua has joined up with out of their Zion. Their Jackson County Missouri. Peacefully and perfectly and inhumnanly transcendant, the way the Mormons wish they actually were about everything. You can give him the chance to be what Mormonism has always wished it could be. Or you can fight with them and help them reclaim their paradise, but get your hands stuck deep in the muck of this world.

Joshua Graham knows his history. He knows all the homes his people lost. And whatever brightness he's trying to regain, whatever soul he's trying to win back from the world that takes and takes and takes and takes - he wants to give it all up again to let these people keep their home.

He knows his past and he is angry.

And as the player, you help him make peace with one of two things: Being human by being fallen, or keeping his soul at the cost of reliving the ancestral trauma of losing Zion yet again.

Both were pretty visceral decisions for a Mormon teenage Babylon to make.

(Tagging @boonebignaturals in this because I need a witness to my madness.)

[uzumaki-rebellion]

Spinning the Block Part 4

Pairing: Terry Richmond x Officer Jessica "Jess" Sims

Warning(s): 18+ Explicit Sexual Content.

Summary: Jess takes Terry to The Pit to find Zeb.

Word count: 6.2K

"Give him cornbread

Whatchu gonna give him?

I wanna know"

Beau Jocque And The Zydeco Hi-Rollers – "Give Him Cornbread"

The heat of the club blasted Terry's face the moment he stepped inside.

A muggy dampness clung to his skin that made the air outside seem like the draft of a closing refrigerator door. He paid twenty in cash for entry, and took in the fast music, fast dancing, and fast service of drinks and spicy Cajun chicken wings. His head automatically started bobbing to the sounds of the accordion and the foot stomping. French Creole peppered his ears with the call and response between the band and the audience.

"There are some seats over there," Jess said.

He led her through a dense crowd that watched the clogged dance floor and noticed right away the stares coming from other men and a lot of women. Jess gripped his hand tight. The topknot she had on her head fell into disarray around her shoulders, making her look so much different under the lights…softer. Almost ethereal.

A couple took the seats they were after, and Terry placed Jess in front of him at the edge of the dance floor. He had to press into her because the place was overly stuffed with wall to wall people hoping to find a bit of real estate to move their hips. The midnight hour had passed and the real partying had begun. He lowered his lips to her ears.

"Keep your eyes open."

She nodded and scanned the room, searching for Zeb. The people surrounding them rocked their bodies in time to the uptempo music and he shook his hips, too. It had been a minute since he took time to party, and zydeco was in his blood. The Pit had the perfect down-home ambiance and décor that shouted locals-only. It touted itself as a club, but it looked like an old run-down restaurant that expanded into one. He could see where they added the expansion to create more space for the bandstand and dance floor in the ceiling's demarcation line between the gray and beige walls.

Jess swayed and shimmied her shoulders. Her backside bumped against his crotch. Her tight denim couldn't keep him from feeling the plushness of her ass, and once she started winding her hips, he stifled a groan and the urge to thrust into her to match the rhythm. He chastised himself. The old party scoundrel revved up in his bones, but he had a mission to complete first. They were there to find Zeb. He stepped closer to Jess, preventing her from moving. If she kept giving him all that friction, eventually, his dick would start poking on her. It was bad enough that he could look down over her shoulder and get a full view of her breasts propped up high like big ole country biscuits. His large hand could probably fit all in her cleavage comfortably. He tried to push libidinous thoughts from his head, but Jess tested his slippery restraint. Her hair fell to her waist like a silky swathe of nighttime sky and he fought to keep his hands from touching it to see how it felt against his fingertips.

She tapped his chest, and he lowered his head next to her lips.

"He's on the dance floor…wearing the blue baseball cap with the alligator on it. With the woman in the red blouse."

Terry clocked them both.

"Let's dance," he said.

He clasped Jess's hand. They passed through the crowd again.

"Hey…Jesss."

A big dude with a broad chest, wide smile, and clean-cut appearance approached her. He glanced at Terry, and the grin on his face slipped away.

"Hi Zion, excuse me for a minute," Jess said with haste.

Zion glared at Terry, but then Jess tossed back her hair and the man looked smitten again.

"You can just follow my lead," she said.

Terry ignored her words and held her hands like the experienced dancer he was. He started cutting up right away and that dimple in Jess's cheek popped out.

"Never mind," she said.

Her expression made him laugh. She definitely wasn't expecting him to be good. Her body followed his lead the way it was supposed to, and he swung her out a few times, pulling her in close. The position of his dick rested against her stomach and she acted like she couldn't feel the weight or heat of it so near. He knew for sure that if she were topless and took her bra off, her breasts would drop to where his dick would be if it were erect and ready for her. His mind drifted off, imagining her standing there rubbing her big tits all around his dick with her hair lightly brushing against his skin.

Fuck.

His dick jumped, and the first pooling of blood thickened him slightly. He played it off by spinning her around and working his feet in a box step to keep from bumping bellies again.

Damn. She kept distracting him. Keep it together.

Terry locked his focus on Zeb and his partner. The music segued into another number. Zeb left the dance floor, and Terry followed with Jess on his heels. He overtook the man and pretended to know him.

"Aye partna, long time no see," Terry said, all friendly.

Zeb looked at his shades, trying to figure out who he was. Jess patted his elbow.

"Follow us outside," Jess said.

Zeb balked and took two steps back from them like they had the cooties. Terry pulled off his shades.

"You know who I am, right?"

"I said a private place, Jess," Zeb hissed.

"Follow us to my car," she said.

Jess headed toward the exit. Zeb didn't move. Terry yanked out his wallet and kept his voice calm.

"Lemme pay you that money I owe you."

The word "money" lit Zeb's eyes up. He checked to see if anyone watched their interaction. Folks were busy slow dragging, drinking, and chasing tail.

"Yeah…c'mon," Zeb said.

They walked out together. Terry headed for the Durango.

Jess handed him her car keys. She opened the back passenger door for Zeb and patted her purse. The man climbed in without hesitation. Terry jumped into the driver's seat and adjusted it. From the outside of the SUV, it only looked like Terry and Jess were in the vehicle. Slipping his fingers in his wallet, Terry pulled out five hundred dollars in fifty-dollar bills. He handed it to Zeb.

"I want ten thousand," Zeb said.

"This is all the cash I have right now, but getting more is not a problem. I can pay you ten thousand."

Zeb's Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed. Once he knew his asking price wouldn't be haggled over, he relaxed his shoulders.

"I don't want to talk about it here. Too many eyes who may recognize him," Zeb said.

"No one can see you here," Terry said.

"Can I trust you to pay? What if I tell you what I know and you fuck me over?"

"I have plenty of money. Trust me."

"Zeb, you can have my word that he'll pay," Jess said. "Terry is the type to do what he says he's gonna do."

Terry glanced at her. She kept her eyes on Zeb.

"I'ma need more than five hundred in my hand."

"How do we know you're telling the truth? You could be lying to us," Jess said.

"I told you I ain't runnin' no con, not with the shit I know. I need that ten thousand to get up outta here. Your cousin was just the tip of the iceberg of the foul shit goin' on in that prison."

"Tell him about the weapon," she said.

Zeb stayed silent. He seemed to wrestle with what to do.

"We ain't got all night, Zeb. I got the man in front of you. Talk," Jess grumbled.

"I know where the weapon is that killed your cousin. It was a shiv made from prison fencing. The killer gave it to me to dispose of. I hid it instead."

Terry ground his teeth together, and his jaw tightened. Jess looked at him with concern. Zeb leaned forward.

"It wasn't a prisoner who did it," Zeb said.

Terry exhaled, and Jess gripped the shoulder of the passenger seat.

"What are you saying, Zeb?" she whispered.

"A guard stabbed him. It was a set-up. Word came down, and I was told to take the shiv after it was used. But the guard cut his own hand by accident. He had to cover himself by pretending he was saving Mike and applied pressure to the wound. But he let him bleed out first. His blood is on the shiv with Mike's, and I'm pretty sure his fingerprints are on it too, because he only used a tiny piece of rubber glove to make a handle. It must've slipped, and he lost the grip, cutting his palm. DNA is on that shit. I wrapped it up in plastic —"

Terry lunged forward and grabbed Zeb by the throat.

"Terry! Stop! Stop choking him…he didn't kill Mike!"

Jess grabbed on his arm.

"Terry, please! If you hurt him, you won't get what you want!" Jess begged.

Her shrill voice stopped him. He released Zeb.

"Easy…everybody just… stay easy," Jess said.

Zeb gasped and rubbed his throat. He sat back in his seat with wary eyes on Terry.

"They threatened my family, bruh. My mother…my brother. I didn't help kill your cousin. They told me to dispose of the weapon or risk losing my parole and my family. But I had to keep it for insurance or else they'd pin it all on me!"

"Where is it?" Terry said.

Zeb shook his head.

"Nah, I need my money first. I'll tell you the name of the guard and where the shiv is. If you can't get all cash, I'll take a cashier's check for half of it. Make it out to Zebediah Chapman."

Terry pondered the honesty of the man.

"If you're lying, I'll come for your family myself."

"I'm a dead man if I don't leave this place soon. The longer I stay, the more danger they'll be in, too. I don't trust anybody in this town. I took a chance on Jess because she saved you."

Jess tapped her nails on the seat. She lined her gaze with him. He almost got lost in her sultry eyes.

"Tomorrow is the big cookout over at Landrieu Park. You could give him the money there. Lots of different people will be there from the church. It'll be safe and we'll all blend in. There's a basketball court… Terry could put the money in a gym bag for you Zeb, and it'll look natural. Y'all can talk in my car and make the transaction in the parking lot," she said.

Zeb nodded.

"That'll work. It's close to my mama's house. What time?"

"Better to do it early. It starts at three. Let's say two o'clock," she said.

Zeb jumped out and headed away from them with his hat pulled down lower.

"What do you think?" she asked.

"I believe him. He's scared out of his mind and isn't interested in trying to rob me, even though he knows I won a settlement. This is the first big break in this case after two years. Thank you, Jess."

"He found me. It wasn't like I was actively trying to solve anything."

"You came to me right away. That's good enough."

Terry leaned back in the seat and closed his eyes, grateful for any hope of getting justice for Mike and his aunt. He bit his bottom lip and a wet trail of tears rolled down his cheeks. He wiped his face.

"I need a drink," he said.

He climbed out and wiped his eyes again.

A lead. The possibility of concrete proof. The Edgewater Correctional Facility was a private prison doing all it could to fight his aunt Rosa for the death of Mike. If Terry had the weapon to turn over to Rosa's lawyer, it would be a bombshell case he could slam dunk.

The tension he carried in his neck and shoulders for two years loosened a smidgeon. Jess walked in front of him to the entrance, and he placed a gentle hand on her lower back as he bent to open the door for her. Over at the crowded bar, patrons made space for them. Jess leaned over and whispered something in Creole to the bartender, a plump man with cherub cheeks and a buck-toothed grin.

"Gotcha, Jess," the bartender said, turning to fetch a bottle from the top shelf.

He placed two shot glasses in front of them, and a liquid resembling molten gold filled them.

"What's this?" Terry asked.

"The best thing we have in the house," the bartender said.

Jess lifted her shot glass and held it in front of him. He picked up his.

"May tomorrow go well for you," Jess said.

They clinked glasses and tossed back the first round.

"Goddamn!" he shouted.

Jess giggled as he pounded his chest, feeling the fire go down.

"One mo' for the floor?" the bartender asked, tilting the bottle his way.

"Oui," Terry said.

"Tu parles créole?"

"Un petit peu. Ça fait un moment," Terry replied, tilting his hand back and forth indicating how little he spoke in awhile since being away from home.

"Vous le comprendrez très bien ici."

"You really think I'll understand good here?"

"We conversatin' well, and you got Jess with ya. She can help you pick up what ya don't remember."

"Stop volunteering me to be a translator, Andre. He understood every word you said with no problem."

Andre poured her fresh whiskey to the lip of the glass and did the same for Terry.

"Hurry up and drink. The music is extra spicy right now," Andre said.

Terry and Jess didn't bother to tap glasses the second time. The whiskey bloomed a sun in his chest, and lightness permeated his limbs. A forward momentum appeared in his life once more, banishing the stagnant cement block that felt like it was stuck in his spirit and would drag him down into a lonely abyss.

He rose from his stool and reached back for Jess's hand. She held it and he glanced at her fine ass, acutely aware that her admirers were throwing daggers at him with their stares cutting his way. A glassy shine of beautiful brown eyes peered back at him from her. On the dance floor, he pulled her in close to make sure she was real because the liquor had him floating already. The zydeco sound this time was funky and drum-heavy. The lead singer's voice had a rhythm and blues drawl to it.

He slipped his right leg partially between Jess's thighs and they swayed together. She held onto his upper back and he squeezed her waist, enjoying the perfect fit. The sight of a tall, strapping man and a short round woman throwing down forced others to give them room. The liquor heightened the experience heavily because they stepped in tandem, touching each other with an intimate familiarity. Each time they separated to do their own syncopated moves, the crowd urged them to cut up some more.

"Get it, Jess!" Andre called out.

A few women shouted her name, letting him know she was well known there. Jess shook them wide hips and her titties bounced. He matched her energy. Her eyes lined with his and he knew she was feeling him. Big time. They danced together with one hand connected, and he snapped them in time to the beat, watching Jess turn and drop her hands to her knees, throwing that ass against his crotch in time to the music. When she spun back up to face him again, he dropped his knees low and playfully snapped his fingers toward her body, letting the crowd see how sexy she moved for him. It stirred up a little competition on the floor and the lead singer started talking to the dancers, egging them on by describing how quick they moved.

They both spun away from each other and danced separately. Jess had her eyes closed and threw her hands up in the air like she was doing a praise break in church, letting her long hair swing on her back. Winding her waist up, she looked angelic and sinful at the same time. Sweat poured out of them, but they kept moving until he snagged her hand again. He twirled her out and pulled her back fast, sliding his thigh between her big legs again.

They danced the night away while sipping liquor between songs.

"Where you get him from, girl?"

A skinny woman with a pock-marked face and friendly grin stared at Terry, and Jess gave a toothy smile, not bothering to answer. They were in synch and danced as if they both had to exorcise some demons through rocking hips and ass shaking. Her face glistened with perspiration like his, and she looked even more beautiful. Her hair puffed up, losing its length as it curled at the root. She shuffled feet with skill like no other, and he wondered why he never ran into her over in the Greenwood clubs he partied at in his youth. He'd messed around with plenty of Shelby Springs girls before he joined the marines. Had Jess walked around his neck of the woods, he would've been on her in a heartbeat.

"Secoue-le!" he shouted.

She grinned and shook her body like he told her to.

"Donne-moi plus!" he added. Give him more.

"Tu en as assez," she teased.

"You sure I have enough?" he said.

"Oui. You do."

She rolled her eyes at him and clutched his shoulder. A boldness surged through him. Terry stopped dancing in the middle of the floor and cradled her face. Her eyes widened, and she touched his waist. She had to have sensed his palpable attraction to her. It sat around him like a heavy shroud of fog ready to engulf her. Jess's eyes stayed connected to his like she was trapped by his allure. She made it so damn hard to remain a gentleman.

He kissed her.

His lips smothered hers and she tilted her head back, accepting the offering of intimacy. She opened her mouth, and he slipped his tongue inside, tasting the strong whiskey they shared all night. The kiss didn't last long, but the satisfaction of going for what he wanted was enough. If nothing else ever happened between them, he was pleased to have finally sampled those delectable lips. He pulled back and her eyes were still closed. The corners of her lips crooked up into a smile, and that dimple appeared.

"Let's go have another drink," he suggested.

She nodded, but before they reached the bar, another man slipped his arm around her waist and led her back to the floor.

"You owe me a dance, remember?" the man said.

"This is Zion," Jess said.

"W'sup? I'm Terrell," Terry said, using his full name.

"Oh, yeah? Well, I'm 'bout to steal her for a minute…you mind?"

His tone tested Terry to say different. Jess didn't appear to take the guy serious, but she averted Terry's direct gaze. She had to ride home with him regardless of what Zion may have been hoping to get into with her. Let him have his little dance.

"Nah partna, I need a rest."

"Be right back, okay?" she said.

"I'm going to the restroom. Have fun," he said.

She walked with Zion back to the dance floor. He meandered around until he found the men's room and voided his bladder at a smelly urinal with half a pink urinal cake. Afterward, he bought himself bottled water. His buzz ended an hour ago when he cut himself off in order to drive sober, because Jess stayed tipsy. He didn't know her tolerance level, or where she lived, and figured he'd drive her home, or take her back to his motel and book a room for her.

He'd need to get to the bank by twelve noon, and luckily there was a branch of the one he used off the highway exit near the motel. Rosa's lawyer would be in his office on Monday, so whatever Zeb gave him, he'd pass on to the law office instead of the authorities first.

Terry took a seat at a small table and surveyed the crowd. Two white women sauntered near him, flirting with a few men. The club was entirely Black and the women stood out like fetish thrill seekers by the way they interacted. A BBC prowl is what it looked like to him. Several patrons with pinched faces and eye rolls made it very clear that the two interlopers were not welcome because of their sketchy behavior. The ladies didn't care, strutting around like they were the shit. Up close they looked older, forty-ish by his estimate, their faces carved with severe lines and sharp angles, but their clothing tried to appear youthful. One of them with a beauty mark above her lip stared at him in the half-light as she approached.

"You have such beautiful eyes," she slurred.

He nodded with a polite smile and looked past her, searching for signs of Jess and Zion. The music had him bouncing in his seat and he caught sight of Jess eventually. She gave Zion two songs before she left the other man's side. Zion watched her walk away as Terry waved her over to him.

No more seats were available at the table, but Terry pulled her onto his lap side saddle. Jess acted shy but he held onto her waist with both arms, in the front and back. He enjoyed how his arm rested on the puffy part of her belly like a cushion made for him. What he wouldn't give to rest his head there while she rubbed on his scalp. He stayed respectable with her like that, not tempted at all to rub on her booty. Zion stared at them from a distance.

"Whenever you're ready to go," he said.

"I'm not good to drive," she whispered in his ear.

"I'll get you a room at the motel," he said.

She nodded.

They listened to the music, but he delighted in holding her. Her backside sank into his thighs and she draped an arm around his shoulder and neck.

"I had fun with you tonight," he said.

"I haven't been out like this in a long time. You helped remind me of what I've been missing…fun."

He checked his cell and decided they should head back. Jess stumbled a little as they headed out. He held her arm to keep her steady. As they approached the Durango, he noticed the white woman who spoke to him inside the club, fucking a hard-faced man with locs in the driver's seat of a white Honda. The window stood cracked open, and they were loud. Jess looked at them for a second and ignored them as she handed him her keys.

Climbing in next to him, Jess buckled up and sighed.

"That's all they come here for. We call 'em marshmallow hoes, cuz they always sniff around for hot chocolate."

"She told me I had beautiful eyes."

"She wanted some dick."

He grinned. Jess stared at his face.

"You do have beautiful eyes."

"So do you," he said.

"Stop flirting with me."

He laughed, and she reached under her seat and pulled out her purse.

"I drank way too much."

She took out her cell and texted a message to someone.

Terry drove them onto the highway, and they listened to a gospel CD.

"My grandfather's music," she said.

She reached to turn it off.

"Let it play," he said.

"He likes listening to it when I take him around to do his errands. I live with him."

"It's cool that you still have a grandfather around. Both of mine died when I was in junior high."

"He's been a widow for ten years now. My grandma had breast cancer. He took care of her to the very end. Retired early from his job to look after her when she first got diagnosed. We thought she beat it, but it came back. I told myself I would take care of him the way he did for her. They were so cute together."

She stared out of the window and then rolled it down, making waves with her hand in the warm air stream.

"He's my best friend," she said. "My family and friends used to make fun of me, always wanting to be around my granddaddy when I was little, but he's always been my favorite person in the whole world."

"Mike was like that for me. He was more like my brother than a cousin. Wherever he was, that's where I would be, and vice versa."

"Pull over…"

"What?"

"Quick, pull over!"

Terry drove the car to the side of the two-lane highway and Jess jumped out, retching violently into the dirt. A bunch of liquid spewed from her and she heaved several times until she stopped and wiped her lips.

"Sorry…sorry…" she said.

"No problem. You feel better?"

She wiped her hair back and inhaled the summer air.

"I'm good…I'm good…I'm—"

Vomit flew out again, and she fell over into the dirt from the unexpected force.

Terry put the SUV in park and hopped out to assist her. He lifted her to her feet and rubbed her back. The strands of her hair were soft satin.

"This is so embarrassing," she lamented.

"We all over-do it sometimes."

He helped her back into the SUV and chuckled under his breath.

"At least you didn't get any on your clothes," he said.

The parking lot at the motel was full of cars.

"The hell," he said.

He had to park her car in front of the manager's office. A No Vacancy sign blinked in bright neon blue.

"Be right back.'

The night manager smiled at him as he walked inside.

"Are there no more rooms available? I was here a few hours ago, and the lot was nearly empty."

"A lot of people showed up last minute for the Crawfish Festival this weekend. All booked up."

"Do you have a rollaway bed I can rent for my room?"

"We're all out, unfortunately. Rented the last one two hours ago."

"Okay, thanks."

He stepped back in the car.

"Looks like you'll be bunking with me. No extra rooms available. Crawfish Festival going on."

Jess palmed her forehead. He drove to find parking on the side of the motel near the garbage dumpster. She moved slowly when he opened her passenger door. He held her purse for her as she limped out. Her color had drained from her cheeks, and she pushed back her hair.

He opened the motel door, and the room was warm. Flicking on the air conditioning, he guided Jess to the bed.

"I'll loan you a shirt and some shorts. Maybe you should take a shower to feel better?" he suggested.

Jess looked down at the king-sized bed. He grabbed the extra blanket in the closet along with the clothes to change into.

"You can put this blanket down the middle as a divider…y'know…if you want."

"We're adults. It's fine. Thanks for the clothes."

She took them and went into the bathroom.

"Need help with the water?" he called out.

He worried about her still being unbalanced and cracking her head open.

"I got it."

The shower water ran.

He pulled out some sweats to sleep in and turned on the TV, waiting for his turn to shower. Plopping a seat on the bed, he watched an old movie. Jess came out wearing his clothes with her own bundled up against her chest.

"I used some of your mouth wash since I don't have a toothbrush," she said.

"That's fine. Drink some of the bottled water I have over there."

She glanced over at the six-pack he bought in town and took one. He entered the bathroom and let lukewarm water rinse him well before lathering up. Exhaling deeply, he let the day run down the drain. Drying off, he pulled on his sweats and night shirt.

Jess tucked herself under the covers. The extra blanket sat on the chair.

"Okay?" he asked.

"Yeah."

He adjusted the air conditioner temperature and turned off the lights.

"TV remote is on your side. You can watch what you want," he said.

He climbed in on his side of the bed and the space between them was wide enough for two strangers rooming together. Jess turned the sound down and he set the alarm on his phone.

"Night," he said.

"Night."

He turned on his side. His stomach was jumpy and the self-awareness about being in bed with her kept him awake.

The TV droned on for an hour and he yawned. He dozed off. A woman in a movie wept, and he wondered what Jess watched. The weeping went on for a minute longer, even after a commercial came on. He sat up and looked over at Jess.

The crying came from her.

She left the remote in the middle of the bed. He muted the sound.

"Jess? What's wrong?"

Her body shuddered while faced away from him.

"Jess?"

He gently pulled her to his side. Wet eyes peered up at him.

"I feel so bad for you," she huffed out, choking on the last word before scrunching up her eyes.

Her head fell against his chest, and he held her close.

"I'm sorry for everything, Terry…so sorry…"

She sobbed and he let her get it all out. He stroked her hair.

"All we can do now is get this information from Zeb, Jess. We're taking steps to get Mike justice. You're helping me. Hold on to that and nothing else in the past."

"I didn't trust you…I didn't act soon enough…I just…I failed you as a citizen."

"Chief Burnne failed me and you. Alright?"

She hid her face from him, too full of shame. He tilted her chin up and forced her to look at him.

"I hold nothing against you, Jess. I swear. You were one woman up against an office full of sketchy men. Once you knew the deal, you acted on my behalf. I'm still here because of you. Remember that."

He used his thumb to wipe away the tears that pooled under her lids.

"You saved me," he whispered.

He kissed her forehead to reassure her. She trembled and sighed with relief.

"Get some sleep," he said.

He continued holding her, allowing his body to enjoy her warmth and softness under the covers. She reached up and ran the back of her hand down his cheek.

"Thank you," she said.

This time, she kissed him. Pried his lips open with her tongue. The full weight of her breasts pressed into his chest. He gave her back the rising passion in his mouth that she shared with him. Something ignited in her and their long, wet kisses seemed to go on forever. He slanted his head to taste her mouth deeper and went against his better judgment by palming her breast. There was so much to hold. He played with her nipple until it stiffened in the borrowed shirt. The need to see them overpowered him.

"Take this off," he said.

He didn't have to ask twice.

Jess pulled it over her head and, with the light of the TV, she revealed to him the full glory of her breasts. His dick twitched in his sweats. He cupped both of them with his hands and lowered his head to suck on them, groaning as he did so. His dick hardened so quick listening to her soft pants. She raked her nails over the back of his neck. He sucked and played with her nipples, putting as much titty in his mouth as he could, stretching it wide. His dick started leaking pre-cum. He could feel it sliding down his hip.

He pulled the covers down from her body and then reached over to turn a lamp light on. He wanted to see everything. Her breasts were better than he imagined. Sizeable reddish-brown areolas. Plump nipples. She noticed the tent in his gray sweats…and the pre-cum stains soaking through.

"Can I eat your pussy?" he asked.

"Yes."

He groaned so loud, grateful that she gave him consent to taste her. She shimmied out of his basketball shorts, and the puffy roll of flesh across her belly made him happy. He tugged on it and moaned when he saw how fat her vulva was under it. She shaved herself closely down there and he could already see the pink inner folds glistening from between the puffy outer lips. He slapped her vulva playfully and sought her clit that already retracted from its hood, looking like a tiny pink diamond all exposed. His mouth watered, and a bit of clear saliva flew out.

She laughed at him, and he grinned, wiping his lips.

"Can't help it. Look how pretty this pussy is," he said.

He pushed her fat thighs back. She opened up to him like a pink rose in bloom, the soft pubic hairs already sticky near the inner labia. Shucking off his sweatpants, he lowered his face and feasted on the most succulent pussy he ever had in his life.

Jess moaned his name and told him to eat her pussy good. She started whimpering when he watched her face while he sucked, licked, and kissed the pussy he craved all night. He knew how to work his eyes whenever he ate a woman out. They melted every time. Jess was no different, however, he felt different doing it this time. She made it feel more erotic with her loving gazes and the soft sighs of his name falling from her lips. He spit on her folds and licked his tongue all around her sensitive parts, paying attention to the delicate clit. She was ultra sensitive, and her legs trembled every time he licked circles around it or kissed it. His lips were sticky with her slickness. He rose to suck on her tits again. They spread some on her chest and the volume pleased him. Backshots with her would look so pretty with her tits smacking together.

His dick bobbed and her eyes looked excited to see what he was working with. He was girthy and above average, and if her pussy felt as good as it looked, he was going to bust a tsunami in her. Kissing along her neck, he nibbled on her earlobe and whispered in her ear.

"We can go as far as you want. You tell me what you want, Jess."

She moaned and threw her hands around his neck.

"I want that big dick," she panted.

"I can put it wherever you want," he teased in her other ear, "Your pretty mouth, all in that fat pussy," he moaned.

He gently rubbed two fingers on her clit as he spoke. She arched her back. He glanced over at the closet. Had he known they would get into it, he would've pulled some condoms out earlier.

"I have condoms," he whispered into her mouth with urgent kisses, letting her taste her pussy.

She nodded. He jumped off the bed and fetched two. Sitting on the edge, he started tearing the gold foil packaging open, but she slid down to the floor and engulfed his dick with her hot mouth, making his fantasy come true. She wedged his thick dick between her breasts, rubbing and sucking him off.

"Oh…shit…." he mumbled.

"You like that, Daddy?"

He could barely see the tip of his dick. Her big tits swallowed his length. Pre-cum spilled out, adding more lubricant.

"You gonna let me fuck that pussy?" he asked, just to make sure it was all good.

She slid her tongue across the tip of his dick and spit on the slit like the nasty girl he needed. Jess nodded and he fisted her hair, pulling her head back so they could make deliberate eye contact.

"Tell me," he said.

He put some extra bass in his voice. She gave him a sly grin, and that dimple melted him.

"I want you to fuck me until the sun comes up," she said.

Say less.

Terry lifted her up and tossed her on the bed, ripping the condom open with his teeth.

Part 5 Soon Come...

Masterlist

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[cosplayamaradolce]

Old man is chuffed!

[mybeingthere]

Georgian artist Merab Abramishvili (1957-2006) started drawing very early. He studied at the Art School in Tbilisi, Georgia, but his real artistic skills were acquired in Alexander Bandzeladze's private studio. Merab often recalled the years spent there with gratitude - Alexander was not only an outstanding teacher, but also a good and kind man.

In his youth, Merab took part in a scientific expedition organized to study the frescoes of the temple Ateni Zion (the Church of the Virgin in the village Ateni, near the town of Gori, Georgia, built in VIIth century). This expedition was headed by Merab's father, Guram Abramishvili, art historian and doctor of philosophy. The expedition had profoundly affected Murab: "For me Ateni is the primary source, here I am filled with energy so I work most of the day and night," - said the artist. He began painting copies of frescos in the temple Ateni Sioni and continued this work for many years.

Merab Abramishvili painted on board, primed with gesso, with tempera paints, using traditional (egg yolk) technique. The method is complex and time-consuming, the results are reminiscent of medieval frescoes. Merab Abramishvili often said: "My paintings are stories of peace in the world".

http://oilpaintingsforme.nordblogs.com/.../artist-merab...

[abbysimsfun]

Sims In Bloom: Generation 2 Pt. 103 (Lavender is Adorable & Malcolm Follows a Lead)

Finally back home after the end of Winterfest break, Conrad caught Heather looking at her ring with a grin while she cleaned up the kitchen. "Did you think you want to set a date yet?" he asked.

She grinned, practically giddy against his charming smile. "Still no."

He laughed, heading into the living room to play with Lavender, where she sucked her slippered toe and chewed her toys. She'd sat up on her own on Boxing Day morning, but she was still more comfortable getting a bird's eye view of the world. Conrad and Heather didn't want to push her; she'd pull herself up with regularity when she had places she wanted to get to.

Heather got dressed and returned from the bedroom to find Conrad chatting with Lavender on the sofa. "It's so much fun to crawl around, sweet girl. You're gonna want to try it soon. I know it."

Heather smiled. "I thought instead of breastfeeding, I could help Lavender explore foods this morning."

Conrad set her up in the high chair as Heather opened a jar of crushed carrots. But Lavender was totally uninterested, batting away the spoon and sticking out her tongue, ejecting the orange mush from her mouth with a grimace.

Heather sighed. "I think we have a picky eater on our hands."

As it turned out, Lavender hated the texture, and sometimes the taste, of most baby foods, so Heather kept breastfeeding. "When she's ready for finger foods, maybe she'll be less picky," suggested Conrad with a hopeful smile.

Lavender's three infant quirks: Loves Wake Up Time, Picky Eater, and the lesser-noted Frequently Hiccups (because it's been mostly inconsequential since Lavender's such a happy baby).

Soon enough, Lavender was upright all the time, and Heather and Conrad chalked it up to her wanting to be tall enough to hang with Gord. The beloved Bernese loved Lavender, often moving in for pets from Lavender's tiny palms. He offered nose rubs in return while the infant giggled wildly.

Conrad, meanwhile, had chased too many leads for Rafa to precisely nowhere, and Ximena had stayed undetected throughout the holidays. As far as Rafa was concerned, he was beginning to fear he was looking for another dead body, but he couldn't let himself rest until he knew for sure.

Trying to relax in the living room with his family, he took a call from Zion Spangler. "George and his wife extended their time in Sulani," reported the young detective. "He won't be coming home for questioning any time soon." Conrad hung up and rubbed his temples in frustration.

Heather frowned in their crowded living room. Ash was practicing a speech for class in the mirror and Lavender was playing with Gord, so she couldn't talk to Conrad about the case. He hadn't shared much, but the police detail lingered outside their home and the clinic, so she knew Ximena was still at large.

She wanted him to be able to find Rafa. She knew how much it meant to him, and how it tore at him not to be any closer to learning what happened. They were both ready to put all of this past them.

In San Myshuno, Malcolm had done some digging into the murder at the docks from his penthouse. Law enforcement wouldn't speak to him about the confidential file, but he'd managed to uncover George Brindleton's shady investment in the company's crooked books, and tracked down the man himself at his tropical villa in Sulani.

"Thank you for talking to me today, Mr. Brindleton. I gather with your secrecy, you don't talk to many reporters."

"This is off the record," grunted George. "I want to get to know you before I tell you anything about my work. You are a Landgraab, after all."

He frowned. "Malcolm's fine."

"I told the detectives I don't know a single damn thing about a murder at the docks. I'm a good businessman and I know where to trim the fat from my investments. Demand. Supply. It's not my fault that for the first time in decades, someone died of anything other than old age or rabies in Brindleton Bay."

"Do they think it was someone from your company?"

"No, they've asked what we know about some cartel called Los Tigres. Hey! Hey Rafael, bring me another soda with extra lime!" He turned his attention back to Malcolm over their video connection with a sneer. "The wait staff at this villa is horrible, but the booze is strong and the sun is hot!"

Malcolm curled his lip at flagrant George Brindleton, taking note of the name of the cartel. "I'm sure the wait staff would be better at a more expensive villa, Mr. Brindleton."

George sneered. "You're a punk reporter, I see. Think you're better than me just because you've got that Landgraab elitism running through your veins?"

Malcolm shrugged. He'd always been a snob, and most people were right when they called him an ass, but he'd found reasons to smile after becoming a father and marrying his wife. He didn't want to spend his night arguing with an angry old man. "It's been a pleasure, Mr. Brindleton. I think I have everything I needed from you, but if you have more to say, by all means, call the news station anytime."

"What does some big city national reporter want with a story about a body in Brindleton Bay, anyway?"

"The story is important, but my son lives in Brindleton Bay. On a personal level, I care that he's safe, and if your company isn't doing their job, I think my mother would love to know there's an open business opportunity at the docks. Demand and supply, and all that."

"You have a son in Brindleton Bay?"

"I do. The local vet is his mother."

George froze as the waiter named Rafael approached with his drink.

"Your son is Heather Nesbitt's son?" He stammered. "Listen, there's no need to start a competing security company in Brindleton Bay...as a matter of fact, I'm gonna tell my guy to go back to the old schedule, effective immediately, so don't even bother."

George ended the video call with a click. The names of Heather's kids had been redacted in the restraining order, but the order had covered the school and the daycare, as well as the house. It's not like he really needed to be able to single them out from any of the other squealing brats in his town - despite his threats outside the courthouse, he preferred to stay away from all of them.

George was more focused on the bigger picture than scaring kids - asserting his importance to the safety of Brindleton Bay served him far better. He'd expected a rise in hooliganism, not a murder, when he pulled his guys from the docks, but the sequence of events had played right into his hands while he sipped cocktails in the sunshine.

He had no reverence for most of the Brindleton Bay Police Force. They'd been in his pocket for decades and they needed him now more than ever. But the Landgraabs were a bigger fish than any he pulled from the Simlandia Sea in his fishing days.

He smiled, taking the drink from Rafael. "Thank you, amigo. Here's a tip to keep 'em coming."

June stood and pleaded with her husband. "Don't drink all morning, George!"

"Don't tell me what to do, June."

Rafa smiled. "Yes, sir. I'll bring round number two before you fall asleep in the lounge chair again for your afternoon nap."

With the Sulani sun beating down on his forehead, George Brindleton considered what he'd learned from Malcolm Landgraab. ->

<- Previous Chapter | Gen 2 Start | Gen 2.1 Summary

Gen 1 Start | Gen 1 Summary

NOTE: Some may recall my side project to flip Malcolm's evil trait to good. That hasn't happened yet but he has added cheerful as a bonus trait - Snob, Evil, Music Lover, and Cheerful is who Malcolm is right now. Good-hearted Miko helping change him is maybe sorta slowly working! He did finish with George and did the evil cackle animation because George was mad and he reveled in it, however...

WCIF Serving Poses: @tenyrasims' Serving With a Smile Posepack and @someone-elsa's cocktails tray accessory (also available at the link). Seriously fantastic, thank you so much for creating and sharing this! it's exactly what I was looking for when I needed to shoot this scene.

[muniimyg]

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹ bbydaddy!jk (9) ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹ *nsfw*

series m.list // taglist request closed

note: some smut. some angst. some fluff <3

🏷️ permanent taglist:

@joonsjuice @pamzn @defzcl @maryy1300 @whoa-jo @taetaecatboy @jksusawife @un06 @firesighgirl @rrosiitas @butterymin @parkinglot-nights @musicjournalsjdb @kissyfacekoo @jkslvsnella @vampcharxter @bloopkook @somehowukook @bbystarcandykoo

//

when you arrive home, zion is fast asleep in jungkook's arms.

you tiptoe towards them and kiss zion's forehead. he shifts a bit but jungkook automatically pats his bum. he's literally asleep, yet his daddy senses are on. you aren't sure why, but your heart tugs at the sight... that's okay, right? for you to feel some type of way when you see them asleep together in your bed?

jungkook and zion truly look so alike.

from their doe-eyes to jungkook's cheeks—even their freaking hair! you can't help it. whenever zion gets hair cuts, he looks like a little man. a mini jungkook... and who wouldn't want that? jungkook has and will always be the most handsome to you.

yet, zion acts exactly like you. it's like the biggest bite in the ass ever. his pickiness and sensitivity root from you. the way he compromises and admits defeat (rarely) are completely you. his sweetness is copied by you but his cheekiness is definitely from jungkook.

zion is the perfect mix.

sometimes your heart aches. sometimes your heart fills up with joy. sometimes it makes you second-guess everything. sometimes it gives you gentle clarity.

"where's my kiss?" jungkook murmurs, eyes still closed.

your lips curve into a tired smile.

"have you guys been sleeping in my bed for the past 2 nights?"

jungkook rubs his eyes, sitting up. he then pulls his arm away from underneath zion's head. "yeah. he wouldn't sleep on his bed and i couldn't sleep on the couch. sorry, did i overstep—"

"no," you interrupt him. "what's mine is yours. it's always been like that."

he nods.

"still waiting for my kiss..."

you roll your eyes but give in. jungkook purses his lips, waiting for yours. instead, you kiss his forehead and pinch his cheeks.

"can you put him back in his room? i've been sleep training him to be more independent... and i miss my bed. he usually climbs into bed with me by 7am anyway."

sleepily, he complies with your request.

as he leaves with zion in his arms, you grab your flimsy nightgown from your closet and go to shower. then, as you step into your bathroom, you think about your closet... it definitely was a mess when you left.. yet, everything is folded so nicely. did he organize it up for you?

huh.

as you turn the water on and step in, you can't help but wonder what will happen tonight. sure, the nightgown is an obvious tell to jungkook that you're down to fuck—but aside from that... you wonder what else he could say or do tonight that will have you tossing and turning.

truth be told, the 2 nights away that was filled with work was exhausting. like, so beyond tiring that you felt miserable. it was so weird to be indulged in work and not come home to your boys... not that jungkook has been home with you since the separation; but the thought of it... it just... it felt good.

for the first time in a while, you felt it.

the want to be together.

as in, the desire to be a family in one house... all together... all over again.

it shook you to your core.

but there was also a relief that overcame your mind. you've never been the type to fight peace anyway (which is also why you asked for a separation 8 months ago... because you didn't feel any back then).

perhaps the poets are right.

time changes things.

people change.

... and so does love.

jungkook has a fistful of your nightgown while you have a fistful of his hair.

his tongue has been nothing short of perfection against your clit. there isn't a single inch of your pussy he hasn't devoured. he does it so well too. what you said was true... him eating you out is never relaxing.

of course, jungkook knew how to tease the shit out of you. how to drag your orgasms and make you last as long as possible. if he felt mean, he'd do it until you cried from how much your pussy throbbed from the edging. god, he was so mean sometimes.

but tonight, he's so nice to you.

he flicks his tongue at all the right spots. you squirm and all he does is wrap his arms around your legs and tug you closer. moving your pelvis to the rhythm of his licks; you feel yourself tighten and the need to close your legs. so, you do so. you close your legs, burying his face deep into you.

jungkook loves it.

god, he fucking loves this.

he eats you out like there's no tomorrow. he slurps you up as if you're the freshest thing to drink. he spits in between his sucking (completely unnecessary. you're literally drenching your sheets already) because he knows you feel it. you feel the heat of his saliva and the way it drips down your folds. how nasty it must make you feel because you like it so much.

again, jungkook loves this.

"that's it, honey..." he praises you. "doing so good. so fucking pretty—y-you're just the prettiest, aren't you? you know that, right? the absolute prettiest."

"s-shut up!"

"come on! ... my little starfish," jungkook chuckles. "say you're mine and i'll let you cum tonight."

you attempt to shoot him a glare. "t-thought you're gonna b-be nice to me tonight..."

he shrugs, reaching up and brushing the sweaty strand of hair off your forehead. "i'm whatever you want me to be."

you don't answer him. instead, you moan and murmur; "fine.. fine. yours. i'm yours."

sigh.

he loves this.

he loves you.

there is literally no other way of putting it.

he loves every hair pull you accidentally jolt to doing. he loves the way you mumble his name in between hitched breaths. he loves the way you watch as his head bobs up and down, right and left, and right in the middle. he loves the way you react to his nose, gliding and causing your pussy to pulsate like crazy. he loves the way you gasp when he slips his fingers inside you and the way your walls tighten around him.

it's everything.

to see you completely fall apart against his touch. to feel the way you let go of his hair and search for his hands, intertwine them, and need them the way you do. to see you come so undone; you release everything you have. you squirt, making a mess on his fingers. your gasps come out like stutters, but your moans take over.

a huge relief is lifted off your shoulders.

you can always count on jungkook for the most mind-blowing orgasm. he just knows your body so well. he does it so good. he's so good to you.

as you catch your breath, jungkook gets up to grab a towel from your cabinet. he returns to you, wiping your inner thighs and then your folds. he then lifts you up a bit to place the towel underneath. without an exchange of words, you open your arms and he collapse in them.

there, you two lay.

his head is on your chest as you play with his hair.

mumbling against your skin, he asks; "what time is it?"

"like.. 1am?"

"oh," jungkook yawns. "kinda early."

though it's true, you know you aren't as young as before. before, you two used to leave the house at 1am... now, with zion's routine and your career; you were usually asleep by 11pm.

"you're gonna regret saying that when zion comes in at 7am and jumps on the bed." you laugh, tugging on his hair a bit. "and when he demands for pancakes so you have to get up and cook them—"

"i can cook them."

"i know," you remind him. "you like making them heart-shaped... cos you like to show off."

"cos i love you, actually."

"yeah, yeah."

he chuckles and you kiss the top of his head.

then, a silence falls upon you two. a part of you wonders if he's asleep already and if you should shut your eyes and follow... but then, he speaks.

"are you okay?" jungkook asks you, as gentle as possible. "you just... you seem really stressed these days. you're handling everything well, by the way.. i just want to check up on you... cos i can take zion on the days you're busy, you know? it's no problem. i can also come by and help out in the house—"

"yeah," you think for a moment. "did you do my laundry? i saw everything in my closet was folded."

"i did."

"okay. thank you. you didn't have to."

"i know."

"okay."

jungkook sighs. "so... are you okay?"

you pause.

"should i quit?"

jungkook pulls away from you. he sits up and stares at you.

"are you kidding me?" is all he manages to say even though a million and one things run through his mind. "is that what you really want to do?"

"i d-don't..." you shake your head, eyes beginning to gloss with tears. "i just.. i feel so drained? like i'm not here for zion enough.. like i'm not present in moments with him. sometimes i cook breakfast without even realizing i'm burning the food because i'm daydreaming of a different life—i d-don't know. i don't know anymore. i'm so tired of winning all the time too. does that even... does that even make sense?"

jungkook looks at you sincerely. with all his heart, he can feel your pain and wants to do anything and everything to ease it. he knew something was up with you. he fucking knew it. you were like this before you asked for a break. you were like this when your best friend moved away. you were like this before graduating from law school.

it's a lot.

he knows it.

you have a lot on your plate and you've always been on the go. jungkook has been fortunate enough to have had time in his career and projects to pace himself... whereas you've always been the best of the best. the demands are crazy and coming home to wanting to be the best mom possible (which you are) must be completely exhausting.

he can't imagine how stressed you must be. he can't imagine what it's like to be you. he can't imagine what it's like to not be with you in moments like these.

"hey," he reaches out for you. you tighten your lips before burying your face to his chest. he wraps his arms around you, stroking your hair and easing your mind with his words. "you're brilliant, you know that? you have completely paved such a life for zion. you did it for yourself too... and it's tiring. i can't imagine how tired you are, honey. it's okay to rest and it's okay to need help. it's okay to put things down and it's okay to pick them up again when you're ready. you don’t have to do big things just because you’re capable of it… doing the right small things is good too. it’s more than enough, actually. ___, if you want to quit, if you want to lose, if you want to not want anything—so be it. do it all or do nothing at all... do it and let me be beside you through it all. i'm always going to believe in everything you do. i'm always going to give you what you need. i don’t want you to burn out. i’m here to protect you, you know? i'm always just... going to be... and you're... you're always going to—"

"shut up." you place your finger on his lips. "c-can you just hold me tonight or something? put me to sleep."

"okay, baby. should i sing you a lullaby too?" he chides as he kisses the top of your head. a little sleepy, he shuts his eyes as he rests his chin on top. as you pull yourself closer to him, you rest your head on his chest.

"... and can you leave more clothes here?"

jungkook's eyes shoot open. his heart flutters and in every possible way there is; he falls in love with you all over again.

"y-yeah," he clears his throat, attempting to hold himself together. "i can do that. i can leave more clothes here."

"okay," you yawn. "i love you... always."

"always," he repeats. "... forever too! i love you forever."

you snicker, teasing him about how cheesy he is. he laughs, blaming you for starting it. soon, you two talk about each other's day and little things zion does that make your heart glow. suddenly, then all at once, you two fall asleep.

it's beautiful, isn't it?

to be falling in love at the same time (once again).

you were right.

not that jungkook doubted you or anything—but you were right.

zion climbed into bed with you two at 7am. his eyes were barely open as he dragged mr kookie along with him. a few whines escaped his lips as he's frustrated and half asleep. to soothe his son, jungkook pulls him in and wraps him in his embrace.

you're still asleep when this happens but the slight movements make you responsive. shifting, you put your arm around jungkook and nuzzle yourself into the crook of his neck. he stretches his neck and kisses your forehead. then, he turns to his other side and does the same to zion.

zion then lets out a sleepy giggle from jungkook's kiss. his eyes are fluttering shut, but it's obvious he's fighting the sleepiness.

"dada?"

"mhm?"

mid yawn, zion asks; "you stay?"

"i'm staying."

jungkook breathes this moment in and holds you and zion tighter. he can't believe how lucky he is. how blessed he is for this second chance. how happy he is for this new beginning.

he’s so grateful for his forever and always.

[lushandlamb]

Notes on Krittika Nakshatra

*Krittika nakshatra is a Sun ruled nakshatra located in Sidereal Taurus.

Krittika’s shakti is the ability to burn or purify impurities. Krittika is ruled by Agni, who is the God of divine fire. From my own research, I’ve seen Agni as destructive or as nourishing. Fire can cook food, warm people, and in a spiritual sense, motivate people. Fire can burn, kill, destroy everything in its path, and in general, cause harm. It’s all about how the power is wielded.

On Astro Tumblr and Twitter, we’ve seen a few people mention Krittika’s connection to the vampire, which can represent a tempestuous bodily desire that makes one feel unclean, dirty, immoral (i.e Nosferatu, Interview With the Vampire) and the need to find discipline, control over one’s power/ability to cause chaos (i.e Twilight). In conjunction, it should be mentioned that the Sun is an enemy to Venus (those pleasurable comforts, for brevity) and friend to Mars (harnessed power, ambition, and action). Therefore, Krittika often has these dilemmas on morality (good v. bad), how to properly conduct themselves, how to not succumb to their own desires and their image. And if we follow the understanding of Krittika as the first man or Adam, it makes sense!

Many Krittika natives will be able to understand the feeling of being unable to keep up to the moral standard / personal and societal expectations, debating whether or not they are acting in good faith. This could lead to going the path of a lone wolf, nomadic, not beholden to the obligation of any tribe / being afraid of taking care of their responsibilities. The Sun is prideful, but ultimately provides light to everyone. It has to show its face and is aware of their duty and power, their potential to rise/fail. Krittika natives can often be self-critical, anxious, and want to burn away all of their impurities to show a better version of themselves to the world. As a result, they may be highly self-conscious, when underdeveloped. Potentially, this could lead to having very strong feelings / reactions and then rationalizing them because Krittika’s symbol is, of course, the knife. They make sense of the world by cutting through their beliefs, trying to get to the root of themselves and being self-aware.

And, for a real world example, I think it’s interesting that Zion Williamson, an American basketball player, (AA rated birth time) has Jupiter conjunct Saturn in Krittika (3H). Williamson is often mocked for his weight, being overly indulgent with food and women, being undisciplined and not being a team player (he didn’t even introduce himself to a new recruit for the New Orleans Pelicans.) Williamson was highly lauded in the beginning of his career, but did not know how to take care of his power, and became prone to various injuries that kept him out of commission. To be fair, he has a Purva Phalguni Moon, but it’s something to look at.

[nevadancitizen]

-> CH. 3: OF TRUE AND FALSE MEMORIES

synopsis: you hitch a ride to the heartlands. hopefully your driver doesn't mind you leeching for just a while longer.

word count: 3.6k

ships: Arthur Morgan/Modern!Reader, Van der Linde Gang & Reader

notes: hey ummm merry christmas eve here's an early present. also zion as a concept of faith is mentioned but i am not a zionist trust it's just that joshua graham is unfortunately a mormon 🙏

TOSoA taglist: @one-green-frog , @photo1030 , @mavenhavenn , @fathermarama , @its-yummi (if you'd like to be added to the taglist, just ask <3!!)

THE OLD SOUL OF AMERICA MASTERLIST

You know the trail to Dead Horse Point well by now. Something is a bit different – but still, Joshua and Daniel and the Dead Horses and Sorrows welcome you and your mules, Rook and Bishop, all the same.

Follows-Chalk, Drumming-Storm, and a few other Dead Horses crowd the mules, offloading everything you had on them: books, kettles, blankets, guns (and accompanying black powder), tobacco, and alcohol. They mostly crowd Rook, as she’s the heavyweight of the two and carries more – Bishop’s more of a riding mule. The Dead Horses wander off soon after, arms full, taking everything to its respective place. 

Joshua approaches you, adjusting the bandages near his eyes to see you better. “You’ve got on well.”

“Yes, sir,” you say. “Happy Trails treats me well. I’m their employee, but I’m also their friend.”

“Yes, but this?” Joshua gestures at the people putting up what you’ve brought. “All this product? They must have put a lot of trust in you.”

“They put more trust in my steeds,” you say. “Both got some burro in them. And they can kick as hard as them, too – especially Bishop.”

“That, I don’t doubt,” Joshua says. 

You watch as Rook shakes her coat out, causing her carrying gear to jingle. Bishop wanders closer to Joshua, nudging at his shoulder and nipping at the bandages that cover Joshua’s arm. Joshua lifts his arm (slowly – again, he’s bandaged all over) and pats the side of Bishop’s face.

“They like it here,” you say. “Maybe it’s something about the canyon. Or maybe they just like you.”

“Zion is a godly place,” Joshua says. His voice, though deep and abrasive, carries a heavy tone of affection. “Wherever man may be, he always dreams of Zion. These creatures may share our same dreams.”

“That’d be nice,” you hum softly. You reach out and place your hand under Rook’s jaw, and she leans forward into your touch. Her big, brown eyes blink slowly as she looks at you, then around the campsite, like she’s appreciating the sight.

“We should probably get going,” you say. You look over at Joshua. “I need to load up on daturana and datura hide. That’s what Happy Trails wants in exchange, anyway.”

“Go talk to Winding-Path,” Joshua says. “She knows what you’re owed.”

When you look to your right, Follows-Chalk is hurrying over, a hand raised and a smile on his face. The painted markings on his face crease and stretch with his smile – rather than spider legs creeping up his cheeks, they look like laugh lines.

“Hoye!” He greets. “It’s nice to see you again.”

“Nice to see you, too,” you say. You reach out to grasp his hand, and as soon as you brush it – 

A bump in the road jolts you awake. You let out a small, confused sound, then settle. 

You’re in the back of a wagon, crammed between folded-up lodgings and kitchen supplies. Your knees are drawn to your chest, and your back is to the wooden side of the wagon. 

Before packing up and making yourself fit into the space left on the wagon, you weren’t really told much of anything. From what you’ve gathered, the men (“men” being the young-ish, able-bodied ones) robbed a train, and now you and the gang have to flee. It seems like you fit right in, because they have a penchant for pissing off the wrong people, just like you.

“Hey, you’re finally awake!” Hosea calls from the front, where he sits next to Arthur.

“Yeah.” You shift and take a quick, deep breath as you rub the sleep from your eyes. “Yeah, I’m up.”

“We’re nearly to the Heartlands,” Hosea says. He turns so that he’s facing you with his arm resting on the back of the seat. “You ever been there before?”

“No,” you say. You sway with the trail in the dirt road and the way Arthur drives. 

“We’re settling up in Horseshoe Overlook,” Hosea says. “It’s near a livestock town called Valentine – all mud and morons, if I remember right.”

“Huh,” you hum. You look away from Hosea and around you. 

It’s different from when you were up in Colter. It’s warmer, for one. The trees aren’t dredged in snow – instead, their branches are covered in leaves, each one green and upturned. Grasses and flowers sprout from the dirt ground, which is now soft and malleable instead of frozen and cold to the touch. Everything is just nicer. 

For a minute, you just listen to the sounds around you. It’s calm. Birdsong fills the air, and you can see animals bounding through the trees of the forest and grasses of the valleys (for the first time in a while, honestly – cities don’t lend themselves well to wildlife). 

What was that dream about? You wonder silently. I was… in the Dead Horses’ camp. But that place is completely fictional, even in this… timeline? Coma-fever-something dream? I don’t even know at this point.

You hear the sound of moving water and look to the front. Arthur is guiding the horses into a stream, which the rest of the caravan has cleared without a problem. 

In the middle of the water, you feel a shock and hear something break. You clutch to the side of the wagon and feel that the driving is a little… off.

“Get us out the stream,” Hosea says. “You gotta keep us moving, but calm.”

Did you just ask Arthur to be calm? You shout in your head. Arthur is the epitome of everything that isn’t calm! He barely feels things, and when he does, he’s meaner than a gas station tweaker – and he’s not even on anything!

Arthur (yes, carefully, you’ll admit) pulls the wagon out of the stream. Just as he does, you feel another shock and a shift. You scramble to hold onto a canister as it nearly falls out of the back of the wagon. 

“Ah, shit!” Arthur curses. He draws the wagon to a stop.

“Okay, let’s take a look,” Hosea says. 

You move and shift the items so that they’re pushed further up the wagon, where you were sitting just before. You hop off the back of the wagon. Sure enough, the wheel has just popped itself right off. 

“You alright back there?” Bill calls from up ahead. 

“Does everything look alright?” Arthur snaps as he hops off the driver’s seat. 

You can see Javier shift in his seat in the wagon ahead of yours, trying to get a better look. “Well, what’s going on?”

Arthur walks closer to you, accessing the damage. He throws a hand up in the air and groans. “I broke the goddamn wheel!”

“Alright!” Hosea chimes. “Let’s get it fixed.” 

“You need help?” Javier calls. 

Hosea waves him off with a hand. “I reckon we can handle it.”

You quickly step back as he and Charles make their way to the back of the wagon. Arthur hoists up the wheel so he can roll it towards the wagon. Hosea and Charles pick up the back, and Arthur forces the wheel back into place. 

You hurry over and pick up a crate, putting it in the wagon. You hop up into the bed of the wagon and take a small chest from Charles, placing it where it belongs.

“Hey, look at you.” Arthur says as he checks the back of the wagon. “You ain’t so useless after all.”

“O-oh,” you say after a second. “You’re talking to me?”

“I am.” He looks up at you. The brim of his hat casts a harsh shadow that partly obscures his eyes. “Did I… offend you, somehow?”

“No, no!” You laugh nervously and take another crate from Charles. “I just wasn’t sure. Sorry.”

“Uh-huh,” Arthur hums. 

“Hold on,” Hosea almost hisses. 

You look over at him, and he’s looking to the side. You follow his eyes and see three figures on the ridge of a cliff, each perched on a horse. You can barely make out their facial features, but they look like Native Americans.

“What you think?” Arthur says lowly. 

“If they wanted trouble, we wouldn’t have seen them,” Charles says. 

“Poor bastards…” Hosea raises his arm and waves, but doesn’t call out to them. “We really screwed them over down here.”

Yeah… You think to yourself, still looking at the figures on horseback. It’s not much better in the future, either. I’d tell you all the details, but then I’d be put in an asylum.

“Come on,” Hosea says. “Let’s not push our luck.”

You take your eyes away from the figures. Instead, you help Charles pack up the last of what’s meant to go in the back of the wagon. 

As Arthur and Hosea hop on the front of the wagon, you make yourself comfortable on top of a trunk. Charles sits across from you on a rectangular crate. 

“Not too far now. Stay on this trail,” Hosea instructs Arthur. “We’ll follow the river, then cut left inland.”

You look around as Hosea starts telling Arthur about how the poor the natives were treated in this area. “Stolen clean away from them it was, every blade of grass,” he says. Even though it’s wrong (reprehensible, even), you understand why white men wanted this country. It’s breathtakingly beautiful – or maybe it just looks that way because it’s not what you’re used to. It’s not asphalt and smog and a concrete jungle in place of real land that lives and breathes.

“I heard some of the army out here was particularly, uh…” Hosea thinks for a second. “Unpleasant about it.”

“Unpleasant?” Charles echoes. “How do you rob and kill people pleasantly?”

“You… say please?” You try to joke. “And thank you?”

“Something like that!” Hosea laughs. “That’s the perfect way to simplify something more complicated for the benefit of our blockheaded driver here.” 

You cringe a little. You don’t really want to be roped in while Hosea’s insulting Arthur so freely and carelessly. 

“Hey, don’t blame nothin’ on me,” Arthur says. “Never forget, y’all – this here’s a conman, born and bred. Just ‘cause it sounds fancy don’t mean he knows a damn thing ‘bout what he’s talkin’ ‘bout.”

A nice pseudo-quiet settles over all four of you. (Pseudo because while it’s true that none of you are talking, the noise of the forest around you fills that silence well.)

“So…” Arthur starts. “Charles. What happened to your tribe?”

“I don’t even know if I have one. Least, not that I can remember,” Charles says. “My father was a colored man. They told me he lived with our people for a while – a number of free men did – but… when we were forced to move from our lands, the three of us fled. I was too young to really remember much.” 

His expression hardens a little. “All my life I’ve been on the run.”

You feel your face twist a bit and a pang of empathy. Empathy – not sympathy. You don’t feel pity for Charles. You know a feeling familiar to his. Maybe you weren’t literally pushed from your land, but you sure as hell know how it feels – skipping from shelter to warming center to temporary housing to shelter.

Addicts, even child addicts and children of addicts, are liabilities. You were a liability.

Charles’ voice brings you from your thoughts. “A couple years later, some soldiers captured my mother. Took her somewhere. We never saw her again. We drifted around. My father was a very sad man, and the drink had a mean hold on him. Around thirteen… I just took off on my own.”

His eyes flit over to meet yours. “What’s that look for?”

“Sorry.” You duck your head and look off to the side. “It’s just… I understand.”

You leave it hanging at that. Then, you look at Charles out of the corner of your eye. He’s waiting for you to continue. You glance at Hosea and Arthur. Neither have turned around to look at you, but you can tell they’re waiting, too. 

“My dad wasn’t around. Like, at all,” you say. “And my mom liked to go to trap houses to get stoned out of her goddamn mind.”

“Trap houses?” Hosea echoes. “What d’you mean by that?”

A cold shock shoots down your spine as you remember that, yeah – this is 1899! And you’re from the future! And you can’t let slip that you’re from the 21st century!

“A trap house is a house where people go to buy and sell drugs,” you say as you think of a lie. “Sorry – it’s slang from the Frontier, I guess. Hasn’t made its way eastward yet.”

“Huh,” Hosea hums. “And what did you do before you found yourself here? If you don’t mind my asking.”

The dream! The dream! Your mind screams at you. Remember the dream!

“I worked for a company called Happy Trails Caravan,” you lie. “Had two mules – Rook and Bishop. I spent most of my time travelling alone, and delivering to the tribes in the Mojave.”

“And how was that?” Hosea asks. “I can’t imagine travelling all the time leaving a lot of room for friends.”

“Oh, yeah. It was nice, but still a little lonely,” you say. “I started doing more local runs across the north of the Mojave around six or seven years ago. Made friends with some of the tribes in Zion Canyon. I started working that job when I was maybe… fourteen? And spent around a decade going cross-country before I did more local deliveries.”

“That was about the age we found young Arthur here – maybe a little older,” Hosea says. “A wilder delinquent you never did see! But he learned fast.”

Arthur scoffs. “Not as fast as Marston, apparently.”

You and Charles exchange a look and he speaks up. “I don’t understand. What’s the problem between you two?”

“Eh…” Arthur shrugs. “It’s a long story.”

You cup a hand by your mouth and half-whisper to Charles. “Marston’s the wolf guy, right?”

He just nods in response. You drop your hand and lean back, looking around at the scenery again. Arthur leads the wagon right by the wall of a sheer cliff drop. You look up at the ridge and the trees silhouetted there. 

“We still headed the right way?” Arthur says. 

“That depends,” Hosea says. “Are we still heading west, in search of fortune and repose in virgin forests, as we planned? No. Are we heading in the correct direction on our desperate escape from the law, eastwards down the mountains? Yes, I believe so.”

You smile to yourself a little. You don’t really know him all that well, but so far, Hosea’s shaping up to be one of the people you can trust. If not, he’s a nice storyteller, at least. You guess that counts for something.

“You know this area?” Charles asks. 

“A little. I’ve been through a couple of times. There’s a livestock town not too far from here, called Valentine.” Hosea hooks his thumb over his shoulder at you. “Was telling them and Arthur about it earlier. Cowboys, outlaws, working girls. Our kinda place.”

“O’Driscolls?” Arthur asks. 

“Probably them too,” Hosea says.

“Pinkertons?”

“Let’s hope not.” 

“And this place we’re going…” Arthur shifts, giving the reins a light snap. “Wait, what’s it called again?”

You turn and watch the riverbed pass by as they continue to talk. The place is called Horseshoe Overlook, like Hosea told you earlier. They talk about the Blackwater job and about Dutch doing things that weren’t like him. (That confuses you a bit. He’s a nice guy, as far as you can tell. But everyone has their limit, and from what you can infer, the ferry was Dutch’s limit.) A few more sentences later, you get the distinct feeling you shouldn’t be listening in on this conversation. Instead, you turn to Charles. 

“Are you doing okay?” You ask. 

“I’m fine,” Charles says. “Do I… not look okay?”

You laugh awkwardly and scratch your cheek. “No, no. I’m just… asking to be polite.”

His eyebrows draw together a little and he frowns a bit. “Okay.”

You inhale deeply and draw your lips into a thin line, then nod, then look away. 1899 is such a weird year to be alive. Or… to be in a coma in? Like, you’re in a coma and your coma dream is set in 1899. This is so confusing.

Javier’s voice from up ahead breaks your thoughts (and keeps you from going into a spiral, really). 

“There you are, brother!” He points further down the trail. “Head in there and follow the track for a bit.”

“Thanks,” Arthur says. 

“Hey, slow up,” Javier calls. “I’ll jump on.”

Javier catches up as Arthur slows down. He hops up onto the tailgate step, holding onto the side of the wagon for extra support. You give him a smile and he nods in return. 

“Any trouble getting in here, Javier?” Hosea asks from up front. 

“No, it went well,” Javier says. “This is a good spot.”

“Excellent!” Hosea says. “I think this’ll work for us. For now, anyway.”

You lean to the side and watch as Horseshoe Overlook comes into view. It’s a nice spot, like Javier said. Some of the grass has already been worn down from all the recent moving around the people and the horses have been doing. A few tents have already been set up, but not all of them.

“Here we are, folks,” Hosea says. “Home, sweet home.”

“You weren’t wrong, Hosea!” Dutch calls from inside the camp. “This place… is perfect.”

Hosea climbs off, and you take that as a hint to get off and start unloading. Charles looks inside the trunk you were sitting on before and tells you that it’s bedding. You take it from him and head over to the tents. 

Most of the rest of the day passes like that. Everything needs to be unpacked and worked on. There was a small interruption when Dutch got up on his soapbox and gave a quick speech about everyone pitching in. He told the gang their fake backstory – that you and the rest of them are a group of itinerant workers whose factory got shut down up north. 

Evening comes quietly and quickly, and night follows it. The sheer drop on the outskirts of camp serves as a nice place to sit and think. 

The stars are so much more bright than they are back in your time. (Your time? Or is it real life? Waking life? Who knows? And, at this point, who cares?) They twinkle and blink and almost seem to dance. They group together and look like they’re spilling from one center source. The moon is nice and full on the horizon. You can see the craters and indents in her surface. It’s like you’re looking up at millions of silver nails driven into dark blue velvet, with the white head of a spike serving as the moon. It’s beautiful, for lack of better words. 

“Hey.”

You gasp and tense, glancing over your shoulder. It’s Arthur. 

You return to looking up at the sky. “Jesus… What do you want?”

“Charles told me to ask you if you’ve eaten,” Arthur says. “Well? Have you?”

“Uh, yeah,” you say. “I’m good.”

Even though you think the conversation is over, you can still feel Arthur behind you. It seems that these people either don’t know how to end a conversation or it’s just different in 1899. 

“The stars.” You glance over your shoulder at Arthur, then away again. “I’m… I’m looking at the stars. If you were curious.”

“Uh huh?” Arthur hums. “And what’s so fascinating about them stars?”

“It’s just that, uh… I couldn’t see them as well out west,” you say. “Where I’m from. Here, I can see them so clearly. They look so real.”

Like I could just reach out and touch them… I mean, this is a coma or something like that. Maybe I could. Maybe I can. 

“I mean, I know they’re real,” you say, your voice laced with laughter. “I’m not – I’m not stupid. They’re just pretty. That’s all.”

“Whatever you say,” Arthur says. 

He steps forward into your peripheral vision. You glance at him, then away, like a child after they’ve been scolded for staring. You push down the instinct to shrink away and look at him.

He takes out a hand-rolled cigarette and puts it between his lips. He strikes a match with the bottom of his boot and lights it. The cherry of the cigarette lights up his face, casting warm light and soft shadows. 

“You want one?” Arthur asks. 

“Huh?” You blink, then look away. “No. No, thank you. I don’t smoke.”

“If you say so,” he says. 

You can see Arthur look up at the stars out of the corner of your eye. He takes a deep drag from his cigarette, then exhales the smoke through his nose. The cherry of the cigarette flickers, then resumes glowing softly. 

You join him in looking up. Sure enough, the stars are still there, and the stars are still real. All seem to spill from a single source. The moon is a little higher above the horizon – no longer touching it, but hovering in the sky. 

 Usually, you’d never get moments like this. You’d usually work from sunrise until sunset and pick up extra shifts and overtime where you could. It’s nice to see the world like this. Natural. Raw. Even if you have to ignore Arthur’s presence extra-hard, you still manage to enjoy the moment. 

Everything’s just so slow back… then? Back now? Back now. Everything’s so slow back now. It’s like a break. A break from the jackrabbit-style, too-quick, so-fast-it’ll-give-you-a-heart-attack type of living you’re used to. A forced break, but a break nonetheless.

Breaks are nice. You watch a star flicker, twinkle, then blink into darkness. 

Maybe you should take breaks more often.