#Chapter9

[ardwick]

EDUX: Chapter 9: Page 3

The keeper of Mt. Kurgan.

Full View Here: https://reduxwebcomic.com/comic/chapter-9-page-3/

[midnightwriteson]

https://archiveofourown.org/works/61994635/chapters/169723738

You're Trying To Save Me Chapter 9 is Up. URL above (AO3 linking has been down for weeks and I can't seem to get it to work with tumblr anymore :( )

Hope you all enjoy!

[vasanthasworld]

WBBSE Solutions For Class 9 Geography And Environment Chapter 9 Maps And Scale

[outdooradventureblissblog]

[sa-characters]

King Mijararos (Amphytrionas) - Deceased

GENDER - Male

AGE - Young Adult

King of Manthos

ASPIRATION - Rambunctious Scamp, Super Parent, Leader of the Pack

TRAITS:   Angelic, Vegetarian, Insider, Self-Assured 

SIGN: Libra

PARENTS - King Ifiklis, Queen Memilia

PARTNER - Queen Euthalia

CHILDREN - Radhamanthos

Download: Not available

Story: Once Upon A Time - The first ones

Family tree: The first ones

YOUNG ADULT: The problems with the neighbors was large test for Mijararos. It aged him, but it also gave him experience. Now, in the best years of his life, he feels he can handle most problems that should come his way. He is still uncompromising about certain things, but he is also more pragmatic and relaxed as to what he can achieve. He has a good relationship with his wife, which he respects and admire. It might not be a passionate marriage, but that's fine.

Unfortunately he died young, it was a great loss to his family and the whole country. It is said that he died of burns after trying to save the unfortunate chef who was in flames when a pot of olive oil caught fire.

TEEN: If you knew his father Ifiklis you can't help but notice how incredibly similar Mijararos is to his father on the outside, and yet how completely different he is on the inside. He is strong and decisive, but find it vulgar to use violence when it's not strictly necessary.

CHILD: He lacks the usual bloodlust of his male relatives, and typical for royalties at this era. He is teased for it, but he stands his ground. He does not want to hurt neither man nor animal, and his parents wonder (and worry) if he will fulfill his military education. Is he fit to be the next king?

TODDLER: Like his father he is very handsome, almost too pretty for a boy. But very unlike his father he seems to have a good compassionate heart. A little angle in human form, isn't he?

INFANT: He was kept well hidden from the public eye the first year of his life, so we really don't know much about his development.

[revserrayyu]

One HSR Character a Day Day 22: Himeko

[chleem]

Flashing Lights #8

Series; actor Drew x actress reader

Summary: Drew gets involved in the worst scandal of his career. One way to solve it? Proving to the whole world that he’s the sweetest lover to exist. Who better to help than the one person he can’t stand? You, an A-class actress with an alcohol addiction. So, will Drew clear up his reputation, or leave with a bigger mess to clean up?

Genre: fake dating, enemies to lovers, slow burn, angst, smut, fluff

Warnings: mentions of alcohol, swearing, mentions of k!lling oneself, mentions of rape & sa, mentions of drug usage, smoking & vaping, (read at own caution

⋆.˚ please dont copy or translate my work!

♡⸝⸝ chapter7 | index | chapter9

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

9:04 p.m

“I ordered, um, room service,”

You start, to which Drew just nods, while drying his hair with a towel. 

You sit awkwardly on the couch, not sure of what to say now. The two of you rushed back to the hotel due to the pouring rain, and now that both are done showering, the realization of what was said is sinking in. 

How does one start a conversation? You had no idea. 

But, you’re glad Drew knows. 

“What did you order?” He asks, coming to sit down next to you. 

You glance at his naked upper body, quickly averting your gaze back to his face. He looks flushed from the shower, and he smells really good. “Um, just the usual.”

“‘The usual’?” The corner of his lips curl up. 

“Wine, steak, etc,” you shrug, lazy to elaborate what you usually eat. 

“What about mine?” His blue eyes stare into yours, a mischievous glint in them. 

“Whatever I can’t finish,” you smile, leaning back in the couch. 

He shakes his head, reaching for the tv remote. The tv opens, and there’s Netflix on it. The both of you stay silent as he logs into his account, and soon, you see his homepage. 

Oh.

Oh. 

A series that you filmed recently released, and it was in the category of shows he was currently watching. 

It was the only show that was in there. And if you looked down, you could see some of your other movies in his watchlist. 

You snicker, glancing at Drew.

You don’t miss the redness forming on his ears, and his clenched jaw. His eyes stay glued to the screen, his hands clicking on the remote. “Someone’s a fan.”

“I share this account with my siblings,” he replies, eyes still glued to the screen. “They…they like you.”

Is he lying or being honest right now?

Either way, you feel good knowing he (or his siblings) like watching your shows. You don’t know if the movies are good or not, but at least someone’s watching them. 

You turn back to the screen, watching him scroll through the different lists of shows underneath. 

“These shows suck,” you mindlessly comment based on their covers. Truth was, you knew nothing about these shows. 

A loud scoff leaves Drew, and you watch the screen as he stops at Nottinghill.

“I met her once,” you brag, the words rolling off your tongue carelessly. 

“Of course,” he murmurs, pressing the play button before laying back and letting the credits roll. 

You feel a flash of irritation, but you keep it in check. Drew's comment is subtle, but the way his tone is makes it clear that he's not impressed by your fame or connections. 

“We talked a lot,” you mumble, eyes glued to the screen now, pretending to focus on the movie. “I have her personal number.”

His continued silence only seems to make the air thicker; the narration of the movie filling in for it. 

You glance over at him, catching him in the act of rolling his eyes—just barely, but it’s enough to get under your skin. His posture is so relaxed, as though he couldn’t care less. Maybe he really doesn’t care. 

A ding is heard; not from the movie. 

Drew stands up, walking to the door. 

You ignore the staff as he walks in to place the food on the living room table; at least, you try to. The staff keeps glancing over at you, with curious eyes. 

Drew sits down next to you, the staff leaving as soon as he’s done. 

You immediately reach for the wine over at Drew’s side of the table, but a gentle slap gets sent to your arm. “Ow,” you comment, to which Drew ignores, opening the bottle himself. 

“Let me do it,” he mumbles, pouring it into the wine glasses. 

He hands it to you, and when you stare into his eyes, the curl of your lips automatically goes up. 

“What a gentlemen,” you tease, taking the glass from him. You take a sip, the wine smooth and cool against your tongue, but your gaze never leaves his.

The familiar feeling of relief curses through your bones, comforting enough to feel like ‘home’. 

You glance at him; watching as his Adam’s apple throb as he drinks his. 

It’s awfully weird; this calm atmosphere.

Screw it, this whole day was weird. Crying in front of someone? Staying sober? Shit, you must be going nuts. 

Drew starts cutting the steak, and you watch as his biceps flex with every move. You try to focus on the movie, letting the smoothness of the wine distract you, but your eyes keep darting back to him.  

“That’s mine,” you whisper, poking his shoulder. It feels just like how it looks; firm and solid under your touch. 

You pull your hand back quickly, but the warmth from his skin lingers on your fingertips, making your pulse pick up.

Drew glances at you, his brow lifting, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "What’s mine?" he asks, his voice low, teasing. His eyes flicker down to the steak, then back to you.

"The steak," you say, your voice a little sharper than you intended.

Drew shakes his head, pushing the cut steak over to your side of the table. He steals a fry, before redirecting his attention to the movie. 

You start eating, just realizing how famished you are.

Right now, Julia Roberts kisses Hugh Grant, after reclaiming the bag she forgot. 

You snicker at that; finding the plot boring and predictable. “It’s like she wants to get caught,” you murmur, reaching for the bottle of wine again. 

You lean forward, your body angling toward him, stretching just enough to grab the bottle from his side of the table.

As you do, you feel the heat of his presence behind you, his breath faint against your skin.

Your arm brushes his as you grab the bottle, and you catch the faintest scent of his shampoo. You pause just a second too long, fingers gripping the neck of the bottle. Fuck. 

You pull back quickly, pouring the wine into your glass. 

You can almost feel the weight of his gaze, even though he hasn’t said a word. 

Then, he speaks up, just as Hugh Grant apologies for his word choice of ‘surreal’. “Just..watch, it gets good.”

“That usually means it’s bad,” you shoot back, gulping the wine down. 

“Internet's’ not gonna like you for that,” he says. 

You hate how you chuckle at his lame joke, the sound slipping out before you can stop it. The pit of your stomach feels uncomfortable; an easy feeling flowing through you that for once, isn’t because of alcohol. 

“You enjoy this shit?” You ask instead, suppressing your smile. 

Drew’s eyes remain on the tv. “Guilty pleasure,” he mumbles between chews. 

“Really?” You fail to hide the skepticism in your voice, “this predictable, unrealistic shit?”

That makes Drew lean back, turning to face you. His blue eyes stare into yours in amusement, and there’s a slight curl on his lips. “Like your taste is any better.”

That makes you scoff, ready to challenge him back. 

Except…well, you don’t have a favorite movie genre. 

You don’t even have a favorite movie. 

The realization hits you in the gut, unexpectedly cold. You pause, your lips parting to respond, but your mind is blank.

What is your taste, anyway? An easy question, yet you can’t answer.

The tension in his eyes further adds to the ache, so you turn towards the movie. “Not this, for sure.”

There’s a long pause before Drew speaks up again, the screen now showing Hugh Grant going to visit her at a hotel, also a press event. “Thriller. Second best.”

You don’t respond; trying to drown out this conversation. Is he trying to needle you, or is he genuinely curious?

“I know a great thriller movie,” Drew presses, “we can watch it after this.”

No response. 

"I think you’ll like it," he says, quieter this time, but his words feel heavy, as if he's saying more than he means to.

Finally, you turn to look at him. His eyes are steady on you, and there’s something comforting in the way he’s watching you, like he’s not just offering a movie suggestion but a kind of unspoken support. 

It’s the same comfort from earlier today—the same softness in his gaze that almost makes you feel safe in a way you’re not used to.

“Better be good,” it sounds restrained, reflecting the feeling you have in your stomach. 

“The best,” he assures, a small smile slowly appearing on his face. The familiar feel of warmth coarse through you just like at the beach; all because of his simple smile.

You turn your gaze back to the movie, hoping to play it cool. That him spending time with you, is nothing. 

——

11:26 p.m

The Conjuring. You never thought much of it, shrugging as Drew pressed play. 

You figured you’d probably doze off halfway through, especially after two bottles of wine.

But you’re…wide awake, next to Drew, your gaze fixated on the screen. The camera focuses on a dark, deserted hallway of the haunted farmhouse.

You’re completely oblivious to how close Drew is. 

Who scooted closer was unclear; just that there was no space between you two. 

Drew could feel the tightness in your posture, the way your body stiffened with every creeping moment on screen. His arm brushed against yours, but neither of you moved away.

Suddenly, the camera zooms in on a cracked door. The tension builds as the whispers grow louder—until the door slams open and the spirit appears.

You gasp, and before you can even think, you bury your face in Drew’s shoulder, finding sanctuary in his arms.

The loud noise goes on, but you just press yourself deeper into his warmth. 

He freezes for a moment, caught off guard by your sudden movement. His gaze shifts to you, seeing your face pressed into his shoulder. 

For a split second, Drew just watches you, his chest tightening as he feels the way your lips, nose, cheeks, everything, brushes against his skin.

He stays still, caught somewhere between wanting to hold you closer, or move away. 

Then, a soft chuckle escapes him, as if breaking the tension. 

“Shit, you scared?” he teases. 

Realizing how close you are to him, you pull away, scooting back to your side of the couch. 

Drew catches the subtle shift, noticing the space that’s opened up between you.

And he almost wishes you hadn’t moved. 

You lift your chin, eyes darting to the TV screen, trying to act casual. 

“I’m not scared,” you mutter, your voice light but a little defensive. 

You try to steady your breath, glancing at the screen. But just as you do, the spirit’s face suddenly flashes across it, its hollow eyes staring directly at you.

You scream again, louder this time, and practically jump out of your seat. Heart racing, you grab for the cushion next to you, clutching it like a lifeline.

Drew watches you, and a chuckle escapes him, “right. You’re the bravest.”

You send him a glare, meeting the blue eyes of his through the dark. “Shut up,” you say, eyes flickering back to the screen. 

An amused grin tugs at his lips, his tongue pressing against his cheek. You’re hiding behind the cushion, eyes wide in fear as you stare at the screen.

After a beat, he speaks up, “I can’t watch this.”

He leans toward the remote, and when he clicks exit, there’s no fight from you. 

——

11:40 P.M

Andy makes his way upstairs with his new toys, the toys in his room freaking out. It’s his birthday party, and the thought of ‘newcomers’ send the toys into a full-blown panic attack. 

The toys scurry to hide, to return to their original places. 

You’re focused on the movie, and you find yourself more intrigued than you’d admit. It’s a children’s movie, but in your drunken state, everything feels a little more intense.

But you can feel something burning the side of your face, a warmth that doesn’t fade. Even when you sip your drink, it lingers.

Turning toward the source, you catch Drew’s gaze. He’s staring at you, intense and unwavering.

“Stop that,” you immediately say, eyebrows furrowing. 

“What?” He blinks, acting innocent. 

“Doing that—staring at me," you say, your tone sharp but betraying a hint of nervousness.

The door of Andy’s room bursts open, and something is placed on the bed, causing Woody to fall underneath the bed. 

“Hey- this part, this part’s good,” Drew comments, his attention back to the movie. 

You scoff, shaking your head before shifting your attention to the screen as well, “you’ve watched this before.”

“Yeah, and it never gets old,” he replies, and you could almost hear the smirk tugging on his lips. 

A new toy comes into the screen, one that’s in an astronaut suit. 

‘Buzz-Lightyear to Star Command, come in Star Command. Star Command, do you read me?’

You feel the same heat on the side of your face again, and turning once again, Drew’s staring at you. 

“Oh my god- stop staring!” You practically yell, the frustration in your voice unmistakable. You turn back to the screen, doing your best to ignore the heat creeping up your neck.

“Sorry- just wanna make sure you’re focused,” he murmurs, yet, he can’t pry his eyes away from you. 

As Woody and Buzz meet for the first time, Buzz freaking out and pointing out his laser, you can’t help but let out a light laugh.

Drew laughs too, but not because of the scene.

Woody proceeds to crash out about the ‘cool new toy’, and you’re still smiling, clearly enjoying the scene.

Drew notices the way your eyes light up with that simple joy, and for a second, he’s quiet. 

Then, he smirks, leaning a little closer, “you’re kinda- kinda like Woody.”

You lean back into your seat, a pleased smile spreading across your face, “Really? Because I’m such a hero?”

He chuckles, shaking his head, “because you freak out just like that.”

Your smile drops at the sudden insult, and you quickly come up with something lame to save face, “well…well you’re such a…Mr Potato Head.”

Drew raises his eyebrows in amusement, the smirk on his lips only growing wider. 

“Because…because, you’re such a loser!” You hear it in your own mind, the lamest comeback to ever be said. 

‘To infinity…and beyond!’

His throaty laugh echoes through the room, adding to your embarrassed state. 

“Fuck off,” you murmur, hitting his shoulder. 

It doesn’t get him to stop, his chest vibrating with laughter. 

Annoyed and flustered, you turn your head to the movie, watching as Buzz makes the perfect landing on the bed. 

“Hey, don’t get me wrong,” he gives your shoulder a playful poke, his voice teasing, “I’m honored to be Mr. Potato Head.”

“Yeah right- getting teared apart every five seconds.”

“So you can pay attention,” Drew says, stretching his arm across the back of the couch, his hand brushing your shoulder.

“I am, so stop distracting me,” you say, your voice tinged with agitation.

He chuckles under his breath, and as the movie goes on, his eyes still find themselves attached to you, watching your every reaction. 

——

12:34 A.M

‘You are a cool toy!’ Woody exclaims, looking over at Buzz. Then, the realization slowly sinks in, ‘as a matter of fact, you’re too cool.’

‘I mean- I mean, what chance does a toy like me have against a Buzz Lightyear action figure?’

‘All I can do is…’ Woody pulls on the string behind his back, initiating his voice box that plays his most famous catchphrase. 

‘Why would Andy ever want to play with me when he’s got you?’

It’s a sad moment, sure, but not enough to jerk a tear out of you.

However, you do hear a sniffle beside you. 

The faintest kind, the kind that you think you might’ve hallucinated.

You turn back, seeing Drew fixed on the screen, but there’s a slight tightness around his jaw, and his eyes are shining. 

Shining with tears. 

“Are you- crying?” you ask, your voice a mix of disbelief and amusement.

He doesn’t look at you at first, his gaze glued to the screen, but the corners of his mouth twitch, and you can hear the slight hitch in his breath.

‘I should be the one strapped to the rocket.' 

“I’m- I'm not crying,” he mutters, though it’s clear from the way his voice shivers that he’s not fooling anyone.

Your gaze doesn’t leave Drew as you watch the slight tremble of his lips. A single tear slips down his cheek, betraying the tough act he’s putting on.

Your lips curl up in a teasing grin, and you happily exclaim, “you’re crying!” 

His eyes (teary eyes) meet yours, and he furrows his eyebrow, denying, “I’m not.”

“There’s a tear right here-“

“I’m not crying-“

“Please, you so are-“

“No-“

"You are!” you insist, leaning in and poking his cheek. His eyes narrow, the softness disappearing, replaced with a sharper look. “You’re a little bitch.”

Drew’s lips part, ready to say something, but you stop—just for a second. Your gaze lingers on his face, noticing how the tear glistens on his cheek, how his eyes, even with the sharpness, still hold something vulnerable.

You suddenly feel too close.

A flush creeps up your neck as you realize how pretty he looks like this, the mix of emotions playing across his features. Your teasing grin falters, and something gentler takes its place.

“…you’re…a little bitch,” you say, your voice softer now, trailing off. 

You don’t know why, but your heart races, caught in the intensity of being so close to Drew.

Sure, you’ve shared tight spaces before, but this… feels different. 

This time, it’s real. 

No cameras, no crowd, just the two of you, alone in this moment.

Maybe it’s the alcohol in your veins, or just purely Drew, or something else entirely, but you’re convinced you should kiss him.

Kiss. Drew.

Your eyes flicker down to his lips, noticing how red and plump they look in the dim light due to his soft crying. 

Then back into his eyes- and how they stare deeply into yours. 

You close your eyes, leaning in, heart pounding as you brace yourself for the contact you’re certain will change everything.

Then—ding. 

The doorbell rings, cutting through the tension like a cold splash of water.

Your eyes snap open, and you jump to your feet, the sudden rush of clarity sobering you up.

Shit, shit, shit. 

“I’ll- I’ll get it,” you force out, your voice a little more high-pitched than you intended.

You don’t look back as you head to the door, not even bothering to check who it is. Your mind’s still buzzing from the near-kiss, and you just need something to pull you out of the tension.

When you open the door, it’s the second round of room service. 

You let the staff in, unloading the food onto the table. 

You stand there by the doorway, suddenly hyper-aware of your senses. Your heartbeat feels too loud in your chest, and the sound of the movie starts to feel suffocating.

You almost kissed Drew. Drew? Out of anyone, are you serious?

“Y/n?”

You blink, snapping out of your thoughts to realize Drew’s still seated on the couch, his eyes fixed on you.

It’s also when you realized the staff left, and you shut the door lightly. 

“Yeah?” you ask, trying to act normal, though your voice feels tight. You’re standing awkwardly in the doorway, the last few moments replaying in your mind.

Drew tilts his head slightly, studying you, a small smile playing on his lips. He doesn’t move from the couch, just watches you from where he’s sitting. 

“You good?” His voice is low, almost playful, but you can tell there’s an undercurrent to it—something more serious.

“Yeah…” you force out, your voice sounding more unsure than you want it to. You look away, avoiding his gaze for a second, your eyes flicking to the food, to anything that can distract you from this.

It doesn’t help with how naked his upper body is. 

“Then come back, back to my side,”

He almost purrs, while his hands mix the sauce of the pasta. His biceps flex with every slow stir. It’s almost hypnotic, the way his arm moves, but you quickly look away.

You hesitate for a moment, but the gentleness in his tone pulls you toward him. 

Quietly, you walk over, and sit down on the other side of the couch, the space between you two wide again.

The table full of foods sitting between you now, and the movie’s playing, but your attention is still fractured.

The silence stretches.

A push of plate across the table echos through the room, and it’s the plate of pasta that Drew just mixed. 

The pasta that you ordered. 

You steal a glance at him, his jaw tight as he focuses on the tv. 

Your breath catches. You should say something. Anything.

You look down at the plate. The pasta looks perfectly mixed—cheese and sauce swirled in just the right way. It’s simple, but it feels oddly... thoughtful.

A knot in your stomach tightens, in a way you’re not used to. 

And so you reach for the bottle of wine, finding it the perfect solution to these weird thoughts you’re having. 

The warmth of the liquid as it swirls in your glass is a small comfort, something to hold onto while your mind races.

You take a slow sip of the wine, the bitterness slipping down your throat, trying to ignore the way your thoughts keep circling back to Drew. 

Your eyes fixate on the screen, watching Buzz sit at a tea party with Sid’s little sister.

There's something unspoken between the two of you, a silent agreement that whatever almost happened is just... off the table. 

An agreement to act like that moment never existed, and neither of you is going to bring it up. Not now, not later. 

It’s gonna be locked away somewhere, sealed off behind a wall neither of you are willing to tear down, even though the tension lingers in the room, thick as ever.

Instead, the movie plays on in the background, the clinking of silverware and the occasional chuckle at the screen filling the gaps where words should’ve been.

——

1:03 A.M

After Toy Story and way too many bottles of wine, you’ve officially fallen asleep. 

Your gentle snores catch Drew’s attention, and he glances over at you. It’s the way you’re curled up on the couch, eyes closed, breaths steady, lips slightly opened that draws him in. 

He watches you for a moment, not wanting to disturb you. 

Drew replays everything from today, his mind circling back to how it all felt too real.

The ‘date,’ if you could even call it that, the movie marathon, the way it all seemed to blur together in a mix of laughter and quiet moments. 

But then there was the almost-kiss, too. He can’t stop thinking about it.

If there were no interruptions, he definitely would have kissed you. 

And then there's the memory that stays with him, sharp and vivid—the way you looked, eyes red and teary, standing in the raining beach. Your crying wasn't ugly, not at all, but it hit him in a way he didn’t expect. 

Even through the storm, he could see your vulnerability, raw and open.

He’s careful not to disturb the stillness as he reaches for the remote. He turns the TV off, the soft click almost echoing into the room. 

A soft sigh escapes your lips, your head tilting slightly against the armrest. Even in your sleep, your brow is furrowed, that familiar expression Drew's come to know so well— you're either annoyed, confused, or tangled up in some unwelcome thought.

Without thinking twice, he shifts closer, leaning in just enough to carefully slip his arms under you. One hand slides under your knees, the other curling around your back. 

He lifts you with surprising ease, trying not to jostle you too much.

You stir slightly, but your eyes don’t open. 

His heart skips a beat at the way your body relaxes against him, even though you’re asleep. Your head rests against his chest, and he finds himself pausing, feeling the weight of you in his arms. 

The closeness, the softness of your breath against his chest, makes him feel oddly protective, in a way he’s not sure he understands.

He carries you to the bedroom, and when he finally sets you down on the bed, he tucks the blankets around you, making sure you’re comfortable. 

He lingers for just a moment, watching your peaceful expression, before he steps back, quietly leaving the room.

And when Drew sits back down on the couch, he knows for sure that after today, something shifted. 

Something, that he hates to admit, has shifted inside of him. 

-------------------------------

word count: 4.2k

ִ ࣪𖤐 a/n: this chapter took me wayyy too long to write T_T anyway, this is my attempt at writing a movie marathon

and yes, this story has plot holes which i chose to ignore

elevator | other | index | ch7 | ch9

official taglist for this series aka the best ppl ever: @maybankslover @ditzyzombiesblog @xcinnamonmalfoyx @haruvalentine4321 @wearemadeofstardust0 @akxkr4st4l @percysley @stars4birdie @padf00ts-l0ver @sadheartjellyfish @darklove2020 @claudiamoscatoo

[cupcakeinat0r]

Me when I maladaptive daydream #chapter9 of my Dadbod! Genetics Professor! Mig series to help get through my long ass graduation ceremony n pretend he’s in the stands supporting me………………..

[jinxfixeseverything]

9/26 Inventory Sheet (Chapter9)

Notes and disclaimers: Story is JINX/FEMALE READER. Most chapters contain SMUT and or FLUFF, there is LIGHT ANGST in a few.

Important notes: Jinx is canonically bisexual in this story. I do not own any of these characters, I just play with them. 

Warning: Story will contain VERY graphic depictions of WLW, main coupling will consist of two switches to keep everyone happy.  I’ll shut up now and I really hope you enjoy!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Life in Zaun had been pretty good for the past two months. You and Jinx had made it official, most nights were spent at her place, but you were still officially staying at the inn and kept most of your stuff there. When Jinx didn’t want you to go, her methods ranged from giving you sad puppy dog eyes, to sulking or some times coming on to you so you couldn’t resist. Travelling funds were starting to dwindle on renting the room, you hadn’t banked on staying in Zaun this long but you’d figure it out.

A couple of nights a week you’d both head over to Cait and Vi’s for dinner or you’d all meet up at the Undercity to hang out in ‘The Last Drop’ and play pool. You had a nice routine going. When Jinx finished work you’d head to the arcade and cook dinner for her on her little rickety stove, while she hugged your back and kissed your neck to distract you. A distraction you usually welcomed.

It was early morning. You sat at Jinx’s work station, pouring over sheets of paper of your travel inventory. This was the third morning in a row you’d tried to take a look and start calculating what you’d need going forward. Jinx sat on the bed cleaning her teeth, she usually slept in longer than you, even when she had work. She casually sauntered over and sat on the desk. She was wearing a pair of your boxers that you usually slept in, baggy on her thin hips so she’d tied a knot in the side and white vest, also clearly too big for her. It was long and the neckline dropped low, the under arms were so low cut that if she turned to the side you could see her whole boob.

“What ya got there, Sweet Cheeks?” She asked tucking one knee up to her chest and swinging the other leg.

You try to remain undistracted by her creamy thigh. “I’m just checking my finances.” You replied pensively. “Paying for the inn is cleaning me out. I’m sure I have some shards in there somewhere. I need to try and rustle some coins up…”

Jinx pushes your chair back a little with her foot and lifts her leg over your lap. She plopped herself down on you. Locking her arms behind your neck.

“Hi.” She smiled sweetly.

“Hey.” You reply distractedly, trying to look over her shoulder at the piece of paper again. She begins kissing your neck. You blink trying to stay focused, placing a hand on the small of her back, you swallow hard and try your hardest to ignore the needy girlfriend in your lap. “You’re going to be late for work.” You remind her, trying not to get pulled into her new morning game.

“Why are you pretending you don’t wanna fuck me on this desk right now?” She said softly in between kissing your neck.

You screw your eyes tight for a second then put your hands under her thighs and lift her up easily, placing her gently onto the desk.

She smiles with satisfaction saying “This is what I’m…”

Then you let go of her and pick up your inventory sheet, walking away to the other side of the room.

“… talking about.” She says in a dejected tone, watching you walk away. She blows out a puff of air, flipping the long piece of hair from her face. “Why are you being boring?” She questions, her tone more irritated than disappointed.

“Pj, I have to concentrate. You’re gonna be late and I need to figure this out.” You try to reason. Before you can even blink, Jinx rushes you in a blur, snatching the paper list out of your hand. She whips back to sitting on the desk, her legs spread in a territorial position, holding the paper list up.

“Not fair. I need that back.” You warn, pointing to the sheet.

“Oh this? Come get it.” She goads with a predatory smile.

You take a step forward, sighing. Jinx crumples the sheet and pushes the wad of paper down the front of her boxers.

“Oops.” She says innocently, her eyes glinting with mischief.

You walk to her, slowly putting your hand in her underwear, she smiles a cocky, satisfied smile at you as you do so. You pull out the crumpled list, tossing it on the desk. Jinx leans back on the desk with her hands. Putting the heels of her feet to the back of your legs, biting her bottom lip in anticipation. You place your hands either side of her on the desk, leaning closer, you brush your lips to hers, her eyes fall closed expectantly and she tilts her head, parting her lips for a kiss.

“You’re late for work.” You whisper on her lips, still not kissing her.

Her voice is husky, as she tells you. “Well if I’m already late, I can be later.” She nips your bottom lip before gently kissing it.

You brush your lips together gently, neither of you wanting to be the first to cave. She reaches around and puts her hand on your butt cheek, pulling you towards her. She smiles against your lips. “You’ll get fired if you keep being late.” You say softly, kissing along her jaw.

“They can’t fire me, I’m doing them a favour.” she says, in a cocky, breathy tone. Hands finding their way under the back of your shirt, running them up your back. “Why do you always have to be such a goody two shoes?” She teases you, running her fingernails lightly down your back. You feel a tingle over your body that made your nipples hard. You slide a hand around her back lightly guide her down, laying her onto the desk, lifting her shirt up, leaving the material to bunch up above her naked tits. “Why do you always have to make trouble?” You asked, against her skin before kissing and licking her nipple.

“You love it.” She states with a breathy relish. Smiling to herself she wraps her legs around your waist and strokes her fingers up through your hair. She presses your mouth to her breast and you appease her desire, moving between each of them, lavishing the same attention on both. Jinx puts her hand under your chin and guides you back up to eye level.

“You want it just as much as I do. I don’t know why you bother playing hard to get.” She said finally capturing your mouth in a kiss. She wasn’t wrong.

“I want you inside me so bad.” She whispers against your lips as you kiss. The inventory list can wait ‘til later. You start to pull down her boxers while you kiss her, she shuffles around so you can get them passed her butt. Breaking apart for her to kick them off once you’ve got them low enough. She pulls you back by your shirt to kiss you using her tongue. Both of you breathing heavily with excitement.

You run the back of your hand up the inside of one of her thighs, kissing a trail from her cheek to her ear. “Say please.” You whisper, teasing her.

“Get bent!” She chokes out in a raspy, defiant shock.

“Ok…” you say, starting to pull back from her.

“Fuck! Don’t!” She yells out of frustration, pulling you back. “I fucking hate you sometimes.” She laughs out of exasperation.

“No you don’t.” You say kissing her and stroking along the length of her thigh. “Be nice.” You tell her.

“Please.” She eventually whispers, squirming below you, the tension was really becoming unbearable for her. Still you caress her thigh just a little longer, tongue kissing her.

“Please.” She begs louder, pulling out of the kiss.

“Wasn’t so hard.” You say pushing three fingers into her.

“Ah, fuck!” She moans as you enter her needy pussy. “Mm.” she moans as you pump your fingers into her. She is so wet her pussy makes an audible sound with each thrust. She rests one leg over your butt as she gasps, her whole body rocking upward with each of your thrusts. Her hips meeting each thrust with a fever. You can feel spasms inside her already, sucking your fingers, trying to pull you in further. Feeling a rhythmic pulsing inside her as her walls contract around your fingers. She desperately pulls you to her.

Jinx cums loudly, her head pushing back, against the desk, making her body arch. You wrap an arm under her body and pull her down on to your hand by her waist again and again as she rides out the last of the spasms. Leaning over her you kiss her softly as she pants to gain some air, kissing you back between breaths. You consider staying like this all day. But you know you both have other things to do today. Important things. As you pull out of her she bites her lip with one final moan, her arms flop either side of her head, onto the desk. “Well that was quick!” You tease. Jinx flashes you a sexy smile. 

“I don’t know about you but I needed that.” She said suggestively, finally sitting up and pulling her shirt down to cover her body again.

“You always need it.” You grin, starting to change clothes from what you slept in. She skipped down off the desk, walking to you placing her hands on your chest.

“Then don’t be so good at it.” She replies simply, giving you a peck on the lips, before turning to walk away.

You swat her butt with your hand, making a small smacking sound, to which she squeals an ‘Ow!’ in mock pain. Smiling at you over her shoulder. Jinx starts to dress too. She pulled some overalls off the floor and threw them over the vest she slept in. You throw her a bandage that was rolled up on the desk, motioning to her boobs.

“What, you don’t want the guys looking at my tatas?” She jested. Lifting the vest and wrapping her chest. She walked over to you leaning into your chest. She teased by saying, “Don’t want their big, calloused hands running all over my...”

“Come on.” You interrupt, screwing up your face and pulling it away from her. The unsolicited thought disgusting you. It just made her laugh.

“Chill out, they’re all like fifty and married, no one would even notice they’re so zoned in.” She assured you.

Jinx lets out a loud contented sigh, a wide grin on her face. “That was great! Thanks babe. See ya later.” She kisses your lips again making a ‘mwah’ sound this time, before heading towards the door.

“Pj?” You call after her. “The inventory sheet.” You say holding out your hand. She stops dead in her tracks.

“What inventory sheet, Lollypop?” She asks with wide eyed innocence.

“Powder… seriously. The one you just put in your pocket about 5 minutes ago.” You say opening and closing your palm. “Fork it over.”

“Oh… that inventory list, I forgot about that.” She grins, lying unconvincingly, coming back to hand you the crumpled page. “So serious when you use my government name.” Jinx joked sheepishly.

“Thank you.” You say, taking the page before shooing her off.

“Don’t mention it.” She grumbles, side eyeing you as she leaves.

[roxetta23]

The 3rd and last commission art for @ouch-ness illustration to PF fanfic : Dragonkin Chapter9 The fic is finished, read it, I recommend! (In case you're interested, see my commission sheet)

[ardwick]

REDUX: Chapter 9: Page 6

The servant.

Full View Here

[lostshepherd1]

One of the benefits attained from the element

“Acknowledgment of the Favour (al-minna) of Alläh” - It prevents the heart from feeling egoistic about the good deeds performed because when a person acknowledges and affirms that Alläh, Most High, is the One who guided the servant to Him and that it is His favour upon the servant that he is a believer,

he will consequently not be fascinated by his good deeds or even feel superior to other people because of that;

therefore all such debased feelings are instantly removed from his heart and so neither does he talk about them nor feel better than others because of them; and this is the nature of any accepted good deed.

'Risalatu ibn al-Qayyim ila' Ahadi Ikhwawanihi' [(Heartfelt advice to a friend- Imăm ibn Qayyim al-Jawziyyah (d. 751H)] Chapter9, P.no: 54

[foreverisntenough]

NEW CHAPTER OUT NOW!

Go read ⇨ Chapter9 - His Angel

The ninth chapter of my newest Jude Bellingham fic ‘Act II’ is out for you to enjoy :)

🪩🫶❤️‍🔥��🌞🍒 Act II Index 🍒🌞🍹❤️‍🔥🫶🪩

[strawberrylegend]

Lingering Fragrance

chapter10:Loved ones catching up with happy hearts - war follows the heart

chapter9:Midnight Invitation - Revisiting Old Faces

ao3 Reverse villain Link.

Updated to chapter 9 (website shows chapter 10).

[miyaniacs]

Corrupted by Darkness

- Chapter 10 -

Chapter9 ; Wattpad ; AO3

A/N: hello … sorry for not updating, but I was busy with life tbh. But here it is and I finally have some ideas and motivation again to continue this story ^^ so I try to update more in the future :) thank you all so sooooo much for all of your feedback and the Votes - it means so much to me and I'm so thankful that you’re supporting me <3 

Noctis POV

I was shocked, I did not knew how to act or what to say. 

I haven't seen those eyes in centuries and now they are starring up at me. 

A nostalgic feeling rushes though my veins. All the good memories we shared, when humans and fae weren't even in their early stages, come back to my mind. Her eyes were full of joy, hope and light. I could stare at them for ages and get lost in the thousands of universes they showed. When the first fae walked this earth she was enlightened, happy to help them with their needs and they worshipped her. I knew it was wrong, I knew that things could turn, yet I couldn't bring myself to stop her, seeing her so happy was all I wished for, 

But now, those eyes hold nothing from that light anymore. All those years spent in isolation made her go mad, made her loose any sense of what's right and what's wrong. 

Nea... even though she took control of her body, she has to be in there somewhere. 

Reaching through the bond, I try to find just some glimpse of her, but all I see - or all Sanguis shows me - are memories... memories of all those dying humans and fae, how she burned them alive, showing me how much fun she had doing it. 

I couldn't control myself anymore. Rage clouds my mind, rage that I held in my heart for all those centuries. A rage i once held against myself, blaming myself for all the wrongs which happened. Now that I feel how much she enjoyed it, how much she enjoys torturing and using Nea's body... It all shifts to her and I can't stop the fire inside of me. 

Something blue catches my eye and in less than a second my flames hit the ground, where Sanguis stood just before. 

Azriel? Why would he be here and save Sanguis?

No... No... not Sanguis. Nea. 

Immediately my mind becomes crystal clear and I realized what I did. Sanguis couldn't burn... but Nea can. 

Sanguis knew exactly what would happen if she keeps on provoking me, trying to get me to kill Nea... something she can't do apparently, otherwise I'm sure she would have done it herself. 

Her powers... when she settled in Nea's body all those years ago, she must have accidentally given her some of her powers - Sanguis would have never allowed her to be able to control her blood manipulation skills. It's an ancient power which only runs in her family. 

But if she lost some of her powers, that means... 

Taking a deep breath I channel all of my powers into this one command I thought I've never say to her. 

"LEAVE"

Power rushes through me, into the bond and straight into Nea's soul. 

I was right. Sanguis was weaker that she used to be. Immediately the ghost of a white dragon leaves her body and flys out into the sky. 

"So you choose her?" A whisper of her voice echos though the wind. 

'I do.' I think to myself and close my eyes. Deep inside of my heart, I knew that I lost her now, even though I may have lost the real her all those centuries ago. 

But now, something inside of me shatters and I feel our connection crumble until there is nothing left. 

A pain I've never felt before, consumes every cell of my brain and I cry out. 

The ground and the mountains around us shake, rocks start falling to the ground, but I couldn't stop, I couldn't stop until l there was nothing left anymore. No pain, no hope, no light, just darkness. 

Darkness and a small little light, showing me that at least I didn't lost my bond to Nea. 

As I open my eyes again, I see various humans rushing from the college towards us, next to me crouching over two lifeless bodies, is Rhysand and some other Illyrian Fae. 

The two body's belong to Nea and Azriel. 

But no... she can't be dead. I can still feel our bond. 

Desperately I look for it inside of my mind, look for the small light - but it's not there anymore. 

Darkness rushes out of me, surrounding the whole college. 

I killed her. 

Sanguis won.

Xadens POV 

'WAKE UP NOW' Sgaeyl screams. 

My bed shakes, the walls around me shake, the whole college seems to shake. 

And the there is this deep roar shaking up every vessel inside if my body. 

Jumping out of the bed and grabbing my jacket I sprint out of the room. There is only one dragon powerful enough get the whole college shake. 

Small pieces of stone fall onto my head, other riders rush out of their rooms, horror written on their faces. 

"Xaden!" Garrick and Bodhi run towards me while I make my way out into the night. 

"What is happening?" Bodhi asks and sprints down the corridor next to me. 

"Noctis." I scream over the voices of the other students. 

"Are you sure?" Garrick asks as we finally set our foot on the grass outside and see the whole disaster. 

The college is breaking down. 

"If he doesn't stop now, we're all going to be buried under rocks here." Bodhi whispers, fear shown in his eyes. And he was right. One of the towers starts to slide towards the ground we are standing on. 

"Oh no.. no no no-" Garrick grabs my arm and drags me backwards. 

But before the tower falls to the ground, Noctis stops. 

"What the hell" Liam, who arrived next to us with Imogen, Rhi and the others, voices what we are all thinking. 

'Sgaeyl?'

'I'm fine, they are on the flying grounds.' 

"Where's Nea?" Rhi asks and looks at me, "She wasn't in her room, I thought maybe she was with you.." her voice is laced with panic as she realizes that Nea wasn't with me. 

"Flying Ground." I reply. 

But when I'm about to start running again, darkness wraps around us. 

Pure Darkness. 

I lift my hand, holding it right in front of my face but my eyes aren't able to see anything. 

It's a kind of darkness I've never seen before. 

I scream out for the others, but nothing. 

There is no sound.

Nothing. 

Searing my mind, I try to find the door connecting me to Nea, yet it's gone. 

'No.. No, No.. - Sgaeyl, tell me this isn't the reason for his outburst.'

'I'm so sorry... I - I don't know. We're stuck in the same dark as you are.' Her voice is barely a whisper inside of my head. 

'Is it shielding our magic too?' 

'It is.' 

[whinlatter]

Hello! I loved the sneak peek of chapter9 and I cannot wait to read it! Can you tell us, without any pressure, how it is coming along, if I’m not rude :) I can’t wait to see the party and what costumes everyone choses 😁

not rude at all — i’m hoping to have it with you at some point next week! (you’d have it earlier but my mother invited herself to stay. please direct any and all complaints to her. she recently announced she is midway thru a deathly hallows reread a propos of nothing so clearly she’s fandom girlie and yet she is yet to give me any kudos on ao3… sus)