#HE HAS FACIAL HAIR AND WRINKLES WE ARE SO FUCKING BACK

[mitzysmitzy]

VIL'S DAD IN THE NEW EVENT GODDHDAHGSGDHSHDBDBDBSHS HOLY SHIT YOU GUYS

[rodolfoparras]

and what better way to celebrate that with some writing /lh no beta as always we balling!!!

You've worked with the TF141 for quite some time and close enough to tell some past stories from childhood or funny awkward ones from college, that include the Captain itself. There's a gnawing feeling deep inside you albeit, Price reminded you of someone.

And your confirmation admits true when he showed you a picture where he played bass for fun before he enlisted and in college.

Blood turns cold, face drained of colours as you stared at the image for far too long— the brown messy hair tied to a hairbun, and he was just a tad skinnier back then, face clean of the facial hair unlike now. But that black with metal band t-shirt was what caught your eyes.

It was one of the nights that took a mighty toll on you, work and personal affairs and people, you were so mentally exhausted. Then, Price and some of his friends back in uni came to the bar to perform, and let's just say with the way he boldly plays the bass, the cheeky wink where he notices you're blushing especially at him, a slight gesture to the back after the music— and you both find yourself in the alleyway, fucking the night away.

Oh, you remember that night very well.

Sure, it was dirty beside the dumpster barely covering the action shined by the nearby streetlights, it was unsanitary— the way your cum keep leaking onto the floor as you go for rounds after rounds (the young age), it was *fucking loud* and the filth of the words spluttered by Price was unmistakable to what you're both up to.

*"God, ahh.. like that, dude, give it to me!" "Don't you dare fucking stop— nghs, fuck!" "Yeah, you like that? I have a pretty talented hand, I'll admit." "Y— you're pretty big aye? Fill me up good, I'm flattered you like my play that much you get your fucking dick this hard."*

How long was it? How much times even did you come that night? Incomprehensible, and uncountable to the times you've gone to other people, that's for sure.

You snapped out of thought when Price called out your name and title in a loud commanding voice, eyebrows furrowed and those wrinkles frowned as he scrutinizing you. "You have been staring at the picture for long there, mate. You good?"

A hesitant nod given to him as an answer, and the conversation after that went along.. just fine.

And the after that.

Your head keep replaying the intimate memory over and over again after you've come to the realization that you had the best one night stand with this very man who is the Captain to the elite special task force you're working with/to. And it's not easy to forget.

That was ages ago. He wouldn't remember it, old age plays partially into the part.

That still doesn't excuse why your heart aches to how...normal he's acting with you. This should be the best outcome, imagine how awkward it would be if he knows? *"Oh you've fucked our Captain before in his youth?"* Not only the future missions would be jeopardize indirectly by that unnecessary fact, it'll also ruin the bonds you have with the team. It's for the best.

.. Did you know Captain Price remembers it?

He can't let you know that yes, he knows you not only as teammates but also the one man he's been pinning over the decades after that one night? Imagine how ecstatic was he when it was announced by the higher ups when you would be joining/working along his team— sure he was skeptical at first, he doesn't trust anyone easily anymore. But once he saw your face, all that negative feelings disappeared into thin air. He remembers your handsome face anytime, and the way it have gone rougher by the years of military treatment, boy does it jog that little memory very well.

But no— he can't let you know. Even if by everyday he has to ride himself on the largest monster dildo he ever purchased while gagging his mouth with a pair of your boxer that he stole, or to resort to stalking you through the live security feeds, or to have recordings of your commands whenever he could.

The fact that you both remembers that night, unknowingly to each other, lingers in the air like the deadly lust.

(see how I looped it to the pervert price au CUZ IM OBSESSED falls to the floor)

-🪂

NONONON DOTN SORP PLEASE I NEED MORE PEAXH IM LOSIJF IT HEREHESUSCHRIST

[male-body-swap-lover]

Becoming the Old Man Next Door

Carter Austin was annoyed that he had to be home for his parents 30th wedding anniversary. The model was only in town for one night, and even that was too much. He hated Fairview and missed the fast life of New York. The 28-year-old was one of the hottest models on the scene and couldn’t believe he was wasting his weekend in his childhood bedroom.

Hon, we are so excited that you are home. We’ve missed you.

You know how busy I’ve been mom. I’m one of the hottest models. I’m constantly booked.

I know. We told Mr. Jarvis that you were coming home and he was so excited to see you.

Mom, I’m 28. I don’t want to go see our old neighbor.

Oh, just do it Carter. It’ll make him happy. He’s lonely. His wife has been dead for 20 years and he has no children. Just do it.

Fine.

I went next door and rang the doorbell. Mr. Jarvis answered the door. I forgot how fat he was.

Austin my boy. So good to see you. Come in come in. Sit down. I’ll get you a drink.

As I sat in his living room, I looked around at his depressing life. The room seemed straight out of the 1970’s, and it reeked of tobacco. 15 minutes. That’s all I need.

Here’s a coke. So, tell me about New York.

It’s fun. I travel the world. I’m one of the top models out there.

I know. I’ve followed you. You are quite the good-looking young men. I bet ladies throw themselves at you.

I get my fair number of women. And men. I don’t discriminate.

I wish I had your life. My life was always boring. And it’s been worse ever since Marian died. I live a lonely life.

Well not everyone can have my life. This coke tastes weird.

That’s because it’s not coke at all. It’s a special potion. You see Carter, I’m tired of being an old man who never did anything with his life. I want a life in the fast lane. So, I am going to steal yours.

What. That’s not possible

I stand up and try to move, but I can’t. It’s like I am frozen in place.

Carter, look in the mirror. Can’t you see the changes have already begun.

As I stared into the mirror, I could see the wrinkles start appearing on my face. Suddenly I started breathing heavier as I felt myself get older. I ran my hands through my hair and it came out in chunks in my hand. I tried to run, to get out, but couldn’t move. My skin was aging. I could feel my youth leaving my body. Passing 30. All of my hair fell out. Passing 40. Stubble appeared on my face. Then it stopped. I looked in the mirror. Damn. I’m fucking old, but I’m fucking hot.

Haha old man. I’m still fucking hot. Look at me. Your plan failed.

You aren’t very smart are ya Carter. That was just step one.

Step one! I turned to him and saw that somehow his hair had grown back in and he looked middle aged. It’s like my hair and age went to him!

Yes, there are three steps. Let’s start step number two.

With that he clapped his hands and suddenly I felt bloated. My stomach was starting to rumble. I looked in the mirror and my face was bubbling. Suddenly it felt like I was blowing up like a balloon. 10, 20, 50, 100, 150, 200 pounds of fat just suddenly appeared on my body. For some reason as I grew, my clothes grew with me.

I was a whale. No one would ever recognize me. It was absolutely disgusting. I used to make fun of people who looked like this. Now I was one of them. I turned and looked at my captor. He looked good. He was so skinny. It’s like all of his weight transferred to my body! He was hot! I was so jealous. Wait he said this was step two, what was step three going to be?!

Damn, I never even looked this good when I used to be in my 40’s. This is amazing. I bet you are wondering about step three. Well, I suppose it’s time to start the final step. Get ready to say goodbye to any remaining part of your old life.

A wave suddenly washed over me. I could feel the life force draining from my body. My facial hair was turning white. My back pain was killing me. I could feel pain everywhere in my body. Arthritis. But I’m only 28. What is happening. I didn’t even think this was possible.

I’m Marvin Jarvis. Wait what! No I’m not Marvin… I’m um….i’m um. What is going on. It’s like I am losing my memories.

What are you doing to me. Why can’t I remember my name. Why do I think I’m you.

Because, Marvin, that’s part of step three. I become you and you become me. We might not look exactly the same, but the world will change to suit us. Why don’t you look at your license.

I could barely reach my wallet. I pulled out my driver’s license. It still said Carter Austin, and then it changed. Marvin Jarvis. 81 years old. 375 pounds. I looked at the photo and then at my reflection in the mirror. There was the same old man. Me!

You’ll never get away with this.

I already have. Your old memories will continue to slip away until you become Marvin Jarvis. Meanwhile, I’ll get your memories and live out my life again. A world-famous model. Carter Austin. My life is set.

Suddenly my mom entered the house.

Hello Marvin. I just came to get Carter. Dinner is ready.

I wanted to scream out. To tell my mom what happened. All that came out was “Of course Karen. It was lovely seeing Carter again. What a fine man he has become.”

Mom, I am just going to hug Mr. Jarvis goodbye and then I’ll be home.

Okay. See you soon honey. Goodbye Marvin.

The new Carter came and hugged me. Good luck Mr. Jarvis. You’ll need it. Don’t forget to take your heart pills, and back pills, and all the other pills. Don’t drive at night. Also, your social security check barely covers basic living expenses. Haha. Better get one last look at me. This is the last time you’ll see me. I’m never coming back to this hodunk town.

I started crying as the new Carter Austin left. He may not have looked exactly like me, but what does it matter. The world believes he is Carter and I am Marvin.

I sat down because my knees were giving out. I tried to remember everything about my old life, but I could feel it slipping away. I’m trapped. There is nothing I can do. You know what sounds good right now. A good pipe. I wonder if NCIS is on. 6:30pm. Almost time for bed. Well, maybe being an old man isn’t going to be so bad after all.

[unexpected-character]

Butter Knife and Blake Time

Fallon Carrington x Reader

CEO!reader and Fallon meet after all these years, what do you think would happen next…

Warning: implied sexual themes, kinda toxic old relationship, rivalry (if you think there’s more, kindly tell me so I can it here)

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

Fallon's pov

"Who are we meeting again?" I told Kirby while scrolling through my phone looking at news and articles about what people are saying with Dad's fiasco.

"For fucksakes Fallon! Do you even listen?! This is like the hundredth time. We're meeting Y/N Y/L/N. She's the CEO of Y/L/N Industries." I can feel her irritation but I ignored her. I know who we were meeting but I was bored and she annoys me so I annoy her even more.

"Fine. What time do we have to go then?"

"We have to leave in 30 and Culhane is ready."

I followed her to the car, closed my phone. Tried drowning out everything to try to make me relax before this meeting with y/n. I haven't seen her in years, and now because of my stupid father, we will see each other again. How can my father be such an idiot and announced to everyone in Atlanta that he’ll have a "Blake time" what the hell is it even about.

Ugh! The audacity of that asshole to fucking give up everything he built. He really is a selfish imbecile.

—————————————

Y/N's pov

Mean while in Y/L/N Industries, you were in a meeting with your own mother because she bought the Carrington Atlantics. It is now one of your subsidiaries.

"For godsakes mother! I told you I didn't want to do business with CA because of the scandal they have." I said to my mom, not even hiding how frustrated I am with her.

"Could you just calm —"

"Calm down?! How would I fucking calm down with this? I don't even see why you'd even want it." my secretary knocked on my door, signaling that my next meeting is in 5 minutes.

"You have to go, mom. Let's talk about this at your home. I'll be there for dinner and will continue everything." I gave her a curt nod, didn't even look at her when she left.

I smoothen out the imaginary wrinkles on my suit and looked if my blouse was tucked well. I made myself presentable for my next meeting. I made them wait to the last second of the 5 minutes and pressed the intercom and spoke,

"Donna, show them in." You've been dreading to see her again after so many years.

The woman you didn't want to see entered your office as if she owned it. Still as beautiful and sexy as ever with her a redhead following her. You didn't even sat up your chair to greet them, not because you didn't have the etiquette but because it's Fallon and you just didn't want too. You looked at the red haired woman seeing as she's checking you out not as subtle as you may add. You raised your brows and got up and introduce yourself to her,

"Hello, I'm Y/n. To what do I owe such pleasure Ms.?"

You told the redhead completely ignoring the other woman inside your office who has been studying you closely and staring at you as if she wants to kill you. Jealousy ah green is a beautiful color on her.

"Anders, Kirby Anders, I'm Fallon's executive assistant among others." She told you, slight pink covering her pale face.

"Anders? Like Jo's daughter or something?"

"Yeah? You know him."

"Of course. He's an amazing man, very organized even the smallest of details."

"Yeah that's Dad." Before you were going to reply, the bubble you both had was burst by the ignored woman in the room.

"Have you both forgotten that I'm here too." She looked at you annoyed. If you didn't know her well, which you do, you wouldn't catch the small hurt in her facial expression that suddenly was schooled like it wasn't there before, bug you caught it. You look at her and raised your brow letting her know you saw it too. It's been years and she still thinks she had a claim on you.

"We didn't, we just decided we want to ignore you. What do you want Fallon?"

"I want to buy the company back."

"As much as I want you to have it so I don't have to see you. The contract stated you can't. I seriously don't know how your family sign such without reading the fine print."

"Well why didn't you?"

"I wasn't here you idiot. I gave mom the ropes as I had personal matters to attend to. She fucking accepted the deal. Hell, I didn't want what was written in it."

"Then give it back."

"I can't Fallon and you know it. I'd let hell freeze over before I'd work with you again, we both know that."

"What? Work together?"

"You didn't know? What happened to you? You just don't do stuff without knowing. Are you sick or dying?"

"Stop being dramatic, y/n! I'm trying to think. This can't be it."

"Well that's hopeful. You don't think, you scheme."

"Fucking shut up, Y/n! You don't know me!" She yelled. Kirby flinching as she haven't seen Fallon to be this enraged at someone other than her own family.

You clenched your jaw and looked at the redhead that's been standing awkwardly among you both. You walked around your desk and stop in front of Kirby and said,

"Ms. Anders, would you be a dear and let Ms. Carrington and I have a moment alone. You can ask Donna to show you around or get whatever you want." You smiled at the woman sweetly as if nothing is bothering you at all. You directed the redhead woman to the door. She nodded and smiled, leaving you both alone in your office. You locked the door after she left.

You studied the brunette woman facing away from you. Even after years of not seeing each other. She still has the same physique. Looking like a work of art. You admire her features. Maybe more defined ass but still the same old Fallon you know years ago. You approached her from behind. Your breath so close to her, her breathe hitching. It's been years but you still have that affect on her. She has an effect on you too but you know how to school yourself with all the years of practice.

"You still haven't change, have you pretty girl." you whispered close to her ear. She let out a breath as she felt you nibbling her lobe.b"Y/n..." she whimpered, trying to move away from your proximity. Yet you left open mouth kisses along her ear, neck, and jaw. The sexual tension in your office could be cut with a dull butter knife.

"Still bratty aren't you, love?" You put both your hands on her hips and gave it a hard grip. You heard her groan, finally having your hand on her body. Leaning her body over yours trying to feel anything to help her in her predicament. "Y/n, please..." she tried grinding her ass to your front. She was so frustrated and you can feel the heat. She needed relief and fast. She wants you. You both want each other so much.

"Be a good girl and bend over baby."

To the people outside, they thought nothing of it. As they thought that it was you getting frustrated due to your mother visiting you. It wasn't unusual for them to see your cold demeanour after being in a meeting with her or with old stupid men. Maybe you were angry again and the loud scream they heard and the banging that they can hear from inside was just that. Kirby on the other hand, knew what was going on. Her face looking like a tomato, knowing what's happening but a bit confuse on why it's happening now. Did you both know each other since back then?

[dollya-robinprotector]

If it's alright to know, can I ask how you got to draw boobas and abs so well? Any references/tutorials you can share?

Or maybe tell us your secret on how to draw clothes, folds and wrinkles?

I really admire you and your art. I tend to look at your blog for inspiration for my own drawings haha

That's a lot to unravel on just one ask isn't it? But, hm... Well let's talk about abs, or more specific, how I draw men.

Would you believe it if I said I did NOT know how to draw men? Male, boy, guys, dudes,... I just did not know how to draw them, and I don't even know for certain if I know now.

I'm serious. It's not just that "never good enough" thing every artists have, it is what it is. I just didn't know how to draw men, so I avoided entirely drawing any men-related stuffs if possible. Female are easier, they're soft and delicate and dainty and just vibe with my way more. I love gesture and dynamic, so doing men's strong and huge and stoic anatomy is torture, if they don't have at least some more feminine trait like long hair,... Almost any attempt I made to draw them are just miserable I can barely look at them second time.

My attempts at drawing men since 2018. You can already compare the fem character is more relaxed than the stiffy stuffy male O)-( And this is already my most proud piece I could show

So, what happened?

✨I brute forced myself✨

I joined this segg game fandom and forced myself to draw hetero nsfw, not very often as it should, but I really tried.

I created male designs that are challenging to me and forced myself to👏just👏fucking👏draw👏them.

That's why you can see very clear how M!Robin (which I drew first and tend to draw the most) has soft and round features, resemble to how I draw females. Next is M!Sydney with his long hair and soft face but more solid body underneath soft and covered clothes, that's how I practiced the "outline".

Next is Kylar, Whitney when I started moving to "facial expressions" and "abs" since Whitney needs to look the most solid out of all the school LIs. From that on you can see how I created Homestead AU and Alex design, which combined many factors I listed above. Andddd now I'm working on the Great Hawk for more "furry" look :D

But, honestly, the game was on since I created Lyah. I actually had him in mind very early, but just after the dance pieces and the Nymph comic did he took his shape correctly.

Lyah was truly a challenge, so everytime I draw him I went absolutely wild and then discovered something new :D

Like, how thick should his neck is to be just enough, to let people know he's a muscular man but not the Rock level

How to make his tits or his ass look bouncy and plump even when he's wearing clothes

How the fuck do muscles work when his hand turn like this, or like that, or round the back,... Those subtle lines on his arms cost me my fucking life O)-(

Like that and that... The wrinkles? Fold? Abs? His penis? Everything, I fucking brute forced myself to just search for the refs, muscles chart, and draw my shit out. But that's exactly why I still don't even know if I'm doing good enough.

Well, according to my friends, who are WAYYY better than me, I'm still having very very VERY far to go O)-(

So, yeah, I guess the first and formost thing is just keep practicing and moving out from your comfort zone, little by little. I'm honored that I can be inspiration to someone, anyone, and I hope we could keep moving forward together ✨

[milogreer]

For that thing you just reblogged (I'm sooo good explaining myself), Lasko? ^^

hi morgan! 👋🏼 ty for letting me talk about lasko again hehe ↳ send me a character!

My first impression: so … i almost didn’t get into the DAMN arc when i should have chronologically 🫣 when i saw that there was gonna be new characters i was so reluctant to get into them bc i just wanted the ones i already knew. but he had me hooked in his first audio cause the way he went “shit- i mean damn- DARN. ah fuck” made me laugh 💘

My impression now: LASKO 🥰🥰 my number two guy!! he’s made me so genuinely rabid sometimes that i don’t even know how i’ve survived it. i really really love how his character has developed & still is developing now with his coworker. i miss him so dearly, i hope he comes back soon despite the pack weddings on the horizon

A favorite thing: i always think it’s so funny when he swears and then tries to correct himself even outside of work settings. babes it’s okay!! you can say fuck! this is a safe space beloved swear all you want bc i swear like a fuckin sailor

Least favorite thing: not least favorite in an “i don’t like this” way but in a “this makes me so so sad” way: oh man. the ways he puts himself down, like. when he says “i don’t know if you should have to see the ‘nothing special’ side of me yet” ??? oh my god. there was a similar line in the FL/gavin/lasko BA that made me hurt so much i had to pause and walk away for a minute ☹️

Favorite line/scene: “being with you, how i feel when i’m with you, how i feel right now… it’s proof that new isn’t scary. i don’t have to be scared of something just because it’s unfamiliar.” …. i actually haven’t ever relistened to the first time audio bc it did psychic damage to me LOL but i had to find the exact quote... this audio and the “slowing down” audio i feel gave him a lot of depth beyond “nervous sub who gets freaky sometimes” and i love it for him!!

Favorite interaction that character has with another: listen listen listen okay. i love gavin/lasko as much as the next person. i eat up every single interaction like it’s the most expensive dessert on the menu. HOWEVER. lasko inviting huxley to join his dnd campaign when they're first reconnecting makes me so happy 🥺💕

A character that I wish that character would interact with more: milo ummm hmm…. tbh i always love when lasko and damien get like Real Interactions. i think they should have more one on ones that aren’t about DAMN or damien worrying that he’s freaking lasko out/lasko being nervous about damien’s intensity

Another character from another fandom that reminds me of them: i have forgotten every single other character i’ve ever met 🫣 i think i'm gonna take this option out for the other asks i got unless someone rly hits me lskjdgsd

A headcanon: i know it’s popular fanon already but i really do love when he is tall and bespectacled. mwah. also i think he likes vocaloid. it’s just a feeling i have

A song: against the kitchen floor by will wood !!!! i’ve posted it before but it’s always the first one i think of for lasko

An unpopular opinion: we need less twinky baby-faced white boy laskos. being submissive doesn't automatically make you a skinny twink!! giving him fat, facial hair, wrinkles, etc will not kill him i promise

[melancholicheart]

All This Time- Chapter 8

cw: implied/referenced transphobia, trans male pregnancy (past, mentioned), angst, miscommunication, fluff and happy ending

Simon hears Johnny loud and clear. Nods his head a little and sits back into the couch. He tries to speak, no words coming from his mouth, and he eventually commits himself to silence.

He agrees with Johnny. He doesn’t want to die in the field, lose his life on foreign ground, potentially not even get a slither of his body back to even bury, and he can’t imagine Elizabeth having to cope with that. He doesn’t want her to end up as fucked up as he was.

Before he can comprehend even making a full sentence, his phone vibrates on the chair beside him and Price’s name lights up the screen.

“We can carry on talking later,” Johnny assures, “I know you’re going to want time, Si. Take Price’s call.”

Simon nods and grabs his phone, placing it to his ear and managing a small ‘yeah’ as he answers the call.

“I have answers.” Is all Simon gets. No hello, no ‘how are you?’, just work. “Gaz and I are going to come over, we need to talk in person. I take it you’re with John and the kid?”

Simon mumbles another ‘yes’ before Price can be heard by both men in the living room, “Wheels up in 30. Be with you in about an hour, two tops. Be good to see Soap again, more excited about meetin’ the little ‘un though.”

“She’s great, Price.” Simon mutters and Johnny watches him from the side, a small smile creeping onto his face.

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Elizabeth peaking around the corner and she jumps back when Johnny spots her. He smiles at her and beckons her over, the little girl racing to Johnny and jumping onto him as she dives for the couch. He catches her under her arms and swings her up onto his lap. Simon places his phone down and sighs. He turns and sees Elizabeth sat on Johnny, playing with his hair and squeezing his face and smiles.

“Price and Gaz know something.” He informs, “They’re on their way over, wanna talk in person. I bet you’ve missed them, Gaz especially I presume. He’s missed you, I can guarantee that.”

Johnny nods and smiles, cuddling Elizabeth close and nuzzling her chin with his nose, making her squeal with laughter as he tickles her, “Papa stop!”

“Never,” Johnny growls, tickling her more and she shrieks out again, “I’m never letting you go!”

“Daddy, help!” She wails and Simon chuckles, snatching his daughter from Johnny and holding her away from him.

“He’s so cruel to you isn’t he darling?” Simon muses, holding Elizabeth like a baby and kissing her forehead lightly, “Such a meanie.”

“A big meanie.” Elizabeth agrees as Johnny pouts.

“Hey!”

For the umpteenth time in Johnny’s life, time seems to both halt and fly by. Before he knows it, there’s a knock at the door and Johnny’s breath stills completely. Five years. Five fucking years since he’s even spoken to his best friend and former Captain, never mind seen them. His stomach sinks as Simon clambers to his feet and answers the door.

Johnny grabs a tight hold of Elizabeth and stands, slowly making his way to the door too where he sees Price and Gaz. Price is carrying a folder, tucked under his arms, and a casual jacket covers his arms. His facial hair is most certainly within ‘old man beard’ territory now with his hair curling a little behind his ears. Certainly longer than Johnny’s ever seen it.

Gaz is timeless. There isn’t a hair out of place on his head, not a single wrinkle or crease extra to be found. His biggest change has nothing to do with aging at all, more like trauma. Blunt force, to be specific. There’s a bump on his forehead, no doubt aging now since it isn’t bruised, but fresh stitches cover a slight cut in it. Likely from the butt of a gun. Johnny’s own head aches as he remembers the many injuries of the like he himself sustained.

“Papa,” Elizabeth mutters, eyeing the men cautiously and nervously tucking her face into his neck, “They the men in the pictures?”

Johnny nods, “Yeah sweetheart, they’re mine and Daddy’s friends. Uncle Gaz and Grandpa Price. He ain’t really your Granda’, it’ll just drive him mad if you call him that.”

“Soap,” Price says, pushing past Simon with Gaz in tow. Gaz claps a hand onto Simons’ bicep before following after the Captain. Johnny feels like he’s about to be chewed out for dangerous decision making or the likes when Price stands before him until he takes note of the man’s eyes. Relief, “It’s bloody good to see you son.”

“You too, sir.”

Price turns to Elizabeth and holds a hand out to her, “I believe you’re Miss Elizabeth, is that right?”

She nods and gently puts her hand into Price’s, him shaking her hand with a warm smile on his face, “A pleasure to meet you, kiddo.”

Elizabeth wiggles out of Johnny’s hold and runs over to Simon, wanting to be held by him instead, and Gaz takes the opportunity to throw himself at Johnny. Johnny holds onto Gaz and feels tears brewing in his eyes.

“You’re a fucking moron, Soap,” Gaz mutters, “You and Simon. God I’ve fuckin’ missed you, brother.”

“I’ve missed you too, Gaz,” Johnny whispers, “Coulda done with you throughout all o’ this.”

Gaz chuckles, “I bet.”

Simon taps Gaz’s shoulder and gestures to the angry looking child in his arms, “She wants you to stop swearing.”

“Oh shit, uh, I mean, yeah, sure kiddo! Bad first impression of your Uncle Gaz, ai?” Gaz rubs the back of his neck and smiles sheepishly. Elizabeth giggles at him and nods.

“Papa swears all the time!” Elizabeth chuckles.

“No I do not!” Johnny yelps.

Price chortles, “Nothing’s changed there then has it MacTavish?”

“No Sir.” He sighs.

Before long, they’re all well acquainted once more and Elizabeth takes her time playing with each of them and gauging how she feels about them all. She has taken a liking to Gaz, mainly because he does silly voices when she plays with him, but she keeps gravitating towards Price and climbing into his lap when she gets tired.

Eventually, she only wants the embrace of her Papa and climbs up into his arms. She seems tired, presumably from all the running around and playing she’s been doing, and she starts to nod off whilst tucked in between Johnny and Simon on the couch.

Simon, always believing in ‘no time like the present’, turns his attention to Price and clears his throat, “Are you going to tell us what you found or just sit and make small talk all day?”

Price chuckles at the Lieutenants tone but his smile quickly falls, “Yeah it’s- well, it ain’t pleasant stuff.” He turns and looks at Elizabeth who is pulling on Johnny’s shirt and dancing one of her dinosaurs on his stomach as her eyes flutter slowly. “Perhaps she’d be better in bed?”

Johnny nods and goes to move with Lizzie but she just whines and clutches onto Johnny tighter, “Baby, don’t you want to go to sleep? I will tuck you and Ricky in.” Ricky is her dinosaur pal.

She shakes her head, “A wanna cuddle.”

“We’re going to be having a rubbish grown up conversation,” He tries to reason, “Are you sure?”

She nods fervently, “I go sleepy here, Papa.”

“Alright, love, come here.” He holds her more comfortably and strokes her hair softly as she goes back to drifting off. He gestures towards Price and allows him to proceed.

“I’ll cut to the chase then,” Price clears his throat and stretches back into the chair, “Gaz and I did some digging, got in touch with Laswell too. All the calls are recorded and such and, well, the ones from you were locked away. When we listened, it was General Sutton that shut you down. I think he heard about your ‘situation’, John, because the last thing we picked up on was you saying you were expecting before the line went dead.”

Johnny shrinks into himself, “I- I already thought they hung up on me. That was the day I found out, I was sat on the bathroom floor crying and begging for them to let me speak to you or Simon.”

Price nods, “We know, son. Turns out, Sutton had plans for Ghost. Sent Simon out near enough the following day. Every call of yours, every letter, it’s been blocked or returned. Sutton wouldn’t let this slip up. He had heard what you said and knew that if Simon caught wind of it, he would’ve left and he didn’t want that.”

“That prick,” Simon grumbles, “Damn near killed me on those jobs and kept me away from this? From everything!”

“Sutton didn’t want to admit it, but Gaz and I- well- let’s just say we ‘forcefully’ took him, and we questioned him about it. He spilled his own secrets pretty quickly. Told us how he hated MacTavish, couldn’t believe the 141 took him in, hated the image we were giving the military by having John yet he recognised that you’re a bloody good soldier, Soap. He said that with you gone, we couldn’t afford to lose Ghost too and so, he elaborated this whole coverup so Simon would never find out about Elizabeth. Made you think that Simon forgot about you and Simon- he made you think John moved on.” Price finishes.

Simon looks at Gaz who is staring at his lap. He has anger seething from him and Simon recognises that they’re all hurt by this.

He turns to Elizabeth, tucked into Johnny’s side snoozing away, and sees his daughter. He’s not exaggerating when he says he could’ve died. There were a few close calls, a couple near misses and some poor timing over the last few years that nearly stripped his baby girl from ever meeting him.

Just like Johnny said, regardless of what he thinks of himself, his daughter looks at him like he’s made of gold and the thought of dying in the dirt without ever seeing her beautiful face or without ever making her smile the way she does around him almost kills him there and then.

He clenches his fist and mulls over Price’s words. It doesn’t fully sink in before Johnny speaks.

“Y’know when I was a kid and I first came out, I thought about the other kid’s reactions. How I was gonna be treated by them was all that mattered. I didn’t think I’d still be dealing with how people treat me just because I am who I am.” Johnny mumbles, curled up on the couch. Elizabeth is flat out and panned across Johnny whilst Simon is tightly pressed on the other side of her, practically cuddling Johnny.

He reaches behind the couch and grabs a hold of the scruff of Johnny’s neck. He pulls him towards him and Johnny gets the message and rests his head on Simon’s shoulder with a soft sigh.

Gaz clears his throat and speaks up. His tone indicative of his fighting tongue; “Sutton has been discharged. Dishonourably.”

“Good fuckin’ riddance if you ask me.” Price mutters. He clambers to his feet and gestures to the sliding door that leads to the barely-there balcony of the flat. Smoke break. Johnny nods as he strides over to the door.

“Swear,” Elizabeth mutters, “No swearing.”

Johnny and Simon look down and Johnny pouts, “Oh sweetheart, you don’t look comfortable at all. C’mon, let’s get you comfy.”

He stands up and sits her on his hip, her head pressed to his neck as he carries her through to his room.

Gaz turns to Simon, “He’s a natural Dad, huh?”

Simon nods, “He’s fuckin’ perfect, Garrick. Could do it all on his own if he had to.”

“But you don’t want him to?” Gaz asks.

Simon shakes his head, “God no.”

Johnny sits on the floor beside Elizabeth’s bed, knelt on his knees as he ricks her in and makes Ricky the Dinosaur kiss her nose. She giggles sleepily and grabs ahold of Ricky.

“Love you, Papa.” She mumbles, snuggling her toy.

Johnny leans over and kisses her forehead, brushing her crazy hair back as he smiles, “I love you more, darling girl.”

He sits for a while, just watching her as she sleeps. He strokes her hair repeatedly and sighs softly, a warm smile on his face.

The door clicks behind him and his shoulders tense.

“Is she asleep?” Simon’s voice breaks the silence.

Johnny nods. He hardly trusts his voice right now. Simon sits beside him and a hand snakes around his waist, “Johnny? Talk to me.”

Johnny turns to Simon, makes momentary eye contact, and tears immediately trickle down his face. Simon falters but quickly bundles Johnny into his arms and holds him tightly.

“I’m sorry Simon, I’m so so sorry.” Johnny hiccups, “If I’d have just- I don’t know. You would’ve known her, you would’ve been here from the beginning if I’d have just been- if I hadn’t-”

“Johnny don’t you dare say that,” Simon shoves him aside a little and grabs his face, staring into his eyes, “Don’t you think for one second that this would’ve all been fine if you hadn’t of been yourself. We would’ve never met, Elizabeth wouldn’t even bloody exist and you- Johnny you wouldn’t have been you. Shit happens, especially to us, but we’re here now and we have a beautiful daughter to look after. Let’s leave the past where it bloody belongs.”

Johnny nods a little, not breaking eye contact, and the tears just coat his lashes whilst his eyes remain shiny with unshed pain. Simon pulls him in close again and feels Johnny hug back. A slight chuckle sounds from Johnny, “Never thought I’d hear the day you, of all people, would say to leave the past in the past.”

Simon laughs a little too and rests his head on Johnny’s, “Yeah well I’m a little sick of living in the past. I want to live in the present, right now, where I have you and I have Elizabeth. I have the two things I’ve always needed but didn’t know what I was missing out on until I had it. Until I had you both.”

“We need you, Simon Riley,” Johnny sighs, watching his daughter as she breathes peacefully through her sleep. Simon does the same. “We need you so much more than you’ll ever know.”

[fuckyeahdindjarin]

Cee!!!! Congrats (again)! You’re absolutely amazing and i love all these game ideas!

And I’m sorry, I can’t stop thinking about sending Pedro Boys to Shiv’s salon. I have to know, how would she (and Frankie) be with Marcus Moreno? Sure, he can be sweet, but the man has a playful edge to him that’s hard to deny 🖤

Shiv’s Salon: Marcus Moreno

Thank you for sending this request (and that hot dilf pic) in Cat, I’m so flattered that you trust me enough to send your man to Shiv 🥰 As I mentioned, I loved the dynamics between Marcus and his mum, and this pretty much wrote itself ❤️

580 words | warnings: meddling mother, harmless flirting, I only watched Marcus clips so apologies if he’s OOC

‘Are you single, honey?’

‘Mum!’ Marcus pinches the bridge of his nose and looks up at you apologetically. ‘I’m sorry. That was wildly inappropriate.’

You grin, putting away the layering shears. ‘I’m afraid not, ma’am.’

Mrs. Moreno clucks. ‘What a shame.’

‘No, mum, we’re happy for her,’ cuts in Marcus. ‘I’m terribly sorry about this.’

‘I mean, if I wasn’t -’ you trail off suggestively with a wink.

He chuckles. ‘You don’t need to flatter me. I’m already paying for her birthday makeover.’

Squeezing Mrs. Moreno on the shoulder, you say, ‘Alright, birthday girl, your hair is perfect, and Ashton will take care of your mani pedi next in our backyard spa.’

‘Thanks Shiv,’ the older woman gives you a kiss on the cheek before she follows Ashton out back - who brazenly winks at a visibly amused Marcus and mouths I’m single, call me as he closes the door behind him.

You tap Marcus on his shoulder as you meet his eyes in the mirror. ‘Something I can do for you while we wait?’

He shakes his head. ‘Oh no, don’t worry about it. I have to go pick up my daughter in fifteen minutes.’

‘C’mon, I don’t have any other customers right now.’

Marcus smiles at you, corner of his eyes wrinkling behind his thick black frames as he surrenders easily. ‘Ok, uh, I guess - can you show me how to style my hair? Like for a date?’

You rub your hands in exaggerated excitement. ‘Alright, mister, now we’re talking. What kind of look do you wanna go for?’

‘No idea,’ he shrugs and swipes at his untidy locks a bit self-consciously. ‘I’m just a single dad who struggles to even condition his hair - show me what looks good.’

Taking a fine-toothed comb, you trace a parting down the far right side with the pointed end, then you start combing down the hair so it sits tidily on his scalp. Marcus watches you in the mirror, attentive but relaxed, as you turn his face slightly to the left so he can see what you’ve done so far.

‘See how your natural hairline follows the sideburn right down to the beard to your jawline? I like how smart this looks.’

Brushing the pad of your index finger on his prickly facial hair, you feel his jaw twitch and a flash of heat under your skin. You arch an eyebrow at him, ‘Down, boy.’

He clears his throat. ‘Sorry.’

You wink at him. ‘You don’t want to get my boyfriend jealous.’

Marcus grins. ‘I can take him - probably.’

Moving to the other side, you show him how he should brush the rest of his hair and to tease a bit of height on his fringe with hair mousse. A couple of spritzes of hairspray, and you’re done.

Marcus stares at you intently in the mirror. ‘How did you do that?’

‘Do what?’

‘Know what looks good on me?’

You grin. ‘I’m old and wise.’

He teases, ‘You sure you’re not single?’

‘Save that charm on someone who actually is available, Mr Moreno,’ you reply in mock admonishment.

With a glance at his watch, he gets onto his feet and gives you a two-finger salute. ‘Appreciate this Shiv, I’ll be back with Missy to pick my mum up later.’

You give Marcus a wave as he walks off with a spring in his step that reminds you of Frankie strutting away from the salon when you cut his hair the first time.

You grin to yourself proudly. Damn, you’re good at your job.

Fuck Yeah 1.2k Sleepover

[proselles]

This is an updated compilation of all stories I have written under the pseudonym roselles. I've been writing a fairly long time, under a lot of different names, but I've finally come back to this account, where I think I will stay. I think it is more convenient to post everything I write here, rather than make separate posts. Only works I post under roselles will be posted here.

I hope you enjoy my stories! Thank you for reading!

Jujutsu Kaisen:

Future Less Vivid

Status: 9/17

Summary: They’re tangled together on the couch when Satoru brings up the boy with the sweetgum hair.

“He’s sorta scrappy looking,” Satoru describes poorly. “Short.”

“Short?” Satoru doesn’t need to see Suguru to know he’s giving Satoru a look - the one where he wrinkles up his chin and mouth, the one that says stop being stupid Satoru. It’s a common enough facial expression in the apartment. “Satoru, it sounds like he’s six. They’re all that height. It’s not their fault that you’re ungodly tall.”

--------

There are a lot of secrets being kept in Tokyo.

Death the Conspiracy

Status: 1/1

Summary: (Dear whoever it may concern,

We regret to inform you that your loved one, Nobara Kugisaki, has passed away.)

--------

After she gets a devastating email, Fumi starts an unrelenting search for her girlfriend.

S4 EP1: Dead Giveaway

Status: 1/1

Summary: There’s a man that looks like Megumi on Nobara’s favorite guilty pleasure show, Extreme Cheapskates. They steal Gojo’s credit card to go investigate.

Meanwhile, Gojo resumes body-building.

Resident Evil:

A couple years the better of me

Status: 1/1

Summary: Both of their soulmates are dead by their bloody hands. Maybe it’s fate.

Albert Wesker v.s. the Institution of Holy Matrimony

Status: 1/3

Summary: “I cannot be co-parents-in-law with Wesker,” Chris insists, jabbing his finger at the man.

“If he were here,” Wesker shoots back waspishly, “I’m sure he’d tell you it’s no great dream of his either.”

They glare at each other. Chris resists the urge to pick back up where they left off in Africa and dropkick the fuck into an active volcano. Or, considering there probably weren’t any active volcanoes in his vicinity, nuke him into the next planetary system.

“What the fuck is a co-parent-in-law?” Muller finally snaps, banging his hand against the table.

---------

(chris is married to leon who’s adopted sherry and sherry’s marrying jake whose father is wesker and its all really petty)

My Hero Academia (old)

float on. - discontinued

Status: 24/?

Summary:

There's something exceedingly strange that's changing the world around him, but Izuku can't quite put his finger on what it is-

He probably should be able to. If he wants to live, that is.

Turns out that no one is to be trusted and the world is out to get him. He knew the last part, but the first part? Not so much, not as intimately. Maybe he had never gotten close enough to anyone to know. Maybe he had never really trusted anyone before. Maybe they had all betrayed him without his knowledge.

Maybe...

Through lies and murder, maybe Izuku could final carve his way out of hell.

Please don't stop smiling. Please.

Baiseman

Status: 1/1

Summary: Izuku’s soul mark broke almost seconds after it had appeared. It was a few months after his own birthday, on January eleventh, which told him three things about his soulmate;

One- They were born on January eleventh.

Two- They were watching for the soul mark just as closely as Izuku had been, if not for the same reasons.

Three- They didn’t want him.

[polyklok]

Next up on my list in all of our favorite Swedish fish-

Skwisgarr Skwigelf, physique/appearance headcanons

Nathan

Pickles

Toki

Murderface

It took me like four tries to spell his name wtf

26 years old. Why? Idk, he just has those vibes. 26 year old vibes.

6’7, though he usually wears boots that puts him at, like, 6’10. It’s absolutely ridiculous how tall this guy is. Insulting, even.

We all know the line ‘Skwisgarr Skwigelf, taller than a tree.’ Right?

More like a beanstalk cause this motherfucker is like 140 lbs. That’s not too low, but it is when you’re nearly 7 feet tall!

Growing up, he was gangly as hell, and had some seriously clumsy habits. But he grew out of it, and is now very graceful. It’s one of the ways he’s very attractive, even his simplest movements seem sort of like a dance.

I added pointy ears because him with lil elf ears is just so funny to me. Let’s just say he hides them in his hair or something.

Speaking of his hair- FUCKING GORGEOUS

Seriously, he’s got long, straight locks that might very be made out of gold. He has an extensive hair routine using only the most high-quality of products. Usually, he spends an hour a day on his hair alone.

That being said, he will not hesitate to smack anyone who tries to touch it. Strangers or otherwise.

He also takes pretty good care of the rest of himself as well. He’s the only member of the band without any obvious wrinkles, only paper-cutting cheekbones.

His pale skin is actually fairly scarred. Some are from fights, some are from mentioned childhood clumsiness, most are from sexual endeavors that got too out of hand.

Piercing blue eyes that could probably kill a man. He has many different glares. You know in Zoolander where they talk about, like, facial expressions? The Dethklok fans do that with Skwisgarr’s many different glares.

He does the old school trick of putting Vaseline on his eyelids so they shine more. Also wears mascara. He wouldn’t tell a soul, though.

Dummy thicc lips. I said what I said.

At some point during his early twenties, he began dying his eyebrows cause he was sick of people not being to tell he was pissed at them.

How do I say this…uhh, absolutely no ass. His hips naturally thirst foreword when he’s in a relaxed position to compensate for his supreme lack of ass. Long back.

Always moving. Usually, it’s picking at his guitar. But if he doesn’t have access for whatever reason, he’s pacing or fidgeting, or grinding his teeth even. He can’t ever not be moving, it frustrates him.

His hands alone are worth millions of dollars, so he takes extra precaution to make sure their in top shape. Trims his nails regularly, applies hand sanitizer and lotion at least 10 times a day, won’t paint his nails or even wear rings just in case.

But he does like jewelry. Actually, he mostly likes collecting expensive pieces and not ever wearing them. He just wears whatever hot topic sends him for free.

He doesn’t really like wearing what he wears at all. He prefers form-fitting, plain, white clothing. But that doesn’t match the band’s aesthetic, so he settles.

All his clothes are still perfectly tailored, though. Never too loose, never too tight.

Despite not completely wearing his preferred style, he’s still aware that he looks good in pretty much everything and anything, so he wears it with enough confidence to make it seem couture.

Similar to Nathan (not exactly), he also shaves himself, the whole body. Except he hardly grows any body or facial hair. But as soon as one does show up, it’s gone.

He smells…clean. Obsessively clean. Like hand sanitizer, mint, and maybe pine or citrus, depending on his cologne. It’s a little off-putting but certainly not unpalatable.

Overall, definitely puts the most into his appearance and hygiene than the other boys. And it’s worth it, clearly.

[sighingmagnolia]

I'm pressed against myself again. Alone in my own inner cavern, throwing solutions against the wall and feeling pressure rise. I guess that's when writing makes sense the most these days-when there is no person but myself to solve my own woe. Explaining would be to fraught, and navigating another persons opinons to muddying. I need my blank space to understand my own challenge. And here it is.

I've changed. Physically and energetically, and I feel at odds with excepting those changes.

Physically. After birth my body has changed. The length of my vagina lips, my vagina minora, the shape and pressure in my belly button when I shift (hernia), the shape of my butt, the length of my breasts. The look of my hair. The wrinkles and sag of my face. And I haven't changed. my life long insecurities remain the same. And under the weight of these secondary changes, I'm gasping to feel aesthetically beautiful. I know. Stupid fucking beauty and everything that it means. I just don't want to catch a glimpse of myself in a reflection and think all the awful things I do about the way I look. Haggard. Masculine. Goofy. Awkward. Old. Dissheveled. Unattractive. Lacking glimmer or redeeming aesthetic quality. I feel that. I'm not sure if it matters or it doesn't matter, but damn do I feel it. Well I think it, and then I feel it. And honestly, I feel like my reaction is honest. Maybe when we add all those insecurities together, they are there for a reason. I've never been the most attractive girl in a group. And I'm smart enough to recognize that. And somehow that story still matters past puberty, and teenagerhood, and young adulthood, to me now. Partnered and with a child. And it's not for my Adam, I mean I think it's a 2 part thing 1. I know he is someone who doesn't find people who focus on beauty attractive 2. I don't feel attractive and I'm not sure that he finds my attractive anymore either. I don't think he finds me attractive-not because the way I look--but who I've become. (See energetic changes for reference.

Anyways--I thinking of doing something about the things I feel negative about the way I look. Like get more plastic surgery. I'm scared that I won't like the outcome, or have medical concerns. But the best outcome, is I think wow-I don't feel uncomfortable when I look at my face. I like the way I look again. I feel attractive. Here's the list and in order of plan: mole removal on face, 2 part surgery with otoplasty and forehead reduction with brow lift, nanobrows for eyebrow fullness. And I could more-I could get the corner of lips lifted, and filled, I could get botox, I could get extra skin from the top of my eyelids removed, I could change the shape of my eyes so they don't turn down. I could go to a plastic surgeon that has a superior understanding of facial symmetry and say "do your best". But honestly-I don't have the finances to transform into a swan. I have 5,500 from reselling, that will cover an otoplasty. Then I'll have to finance the rest. And if I pay it off in 12 months, I won't have any interest on it. I could do that. If I can convince Adam and others, that my financial scheme makes sense. And if I can convince myself that this make sense.

Not # 3, but automatic formatting is too clunky to mess with. Energetically. God, energetically. I feel like I'm a woman with no sex-drive, no zest, or goals, who is in the domestic daily groove. Everything that seemed appealing before, like trips away, exploring new landscapes, hitting a physical goal, all feels hard. I can read. I can list things. I can bead. I can write. I can stay in this warm cave of a home where it's safe. I went on a 10 mile hike yesterday, and 5 miles in I thought..I didn't sign up for this. I'm tired. I'd like to stop walking now. All this seeing the same flora and fauna in the alpine Eastern Sierras isn't worth this discomfort. Take me back to my smartphone so I can check my reddit plastic surgery feed. Just kidding, I didn't think that. But I felt low, and sad, as if I could be reactive--but wasn't going to because i have emotional control. Thank god I have that sometimes. I think that my inconsistent sleep (which has been more lately), breastfeeding, and learning to be a mom and a "wife", as well as sweet hormones. As well as being isolated without a community, YET. All these things stack up and I again feel like a hollow human (as said in previous posts).

I didn't know that I could feel bliss every day when I hold my child. When I look at Jesse and study his beautiful face, I am taken into a peaceful garden. Unless he is crying and throwing a tantrum, of course. Being a mom is bigger than I am, and I wish I was more prepared, capable, equipped, to give him everything he needs. He is everything to me. Words that I have seen written but never knew what they mean. He is my sun, that I rotate around. He has become my why, my reason. Love seems too small a word. He is breathing.

Thank you page. For the space.

[boxofteethrpg-blog]

To Have and To Hold Chapter 3

"Sir, I am going to need you to move," Dr. 'Selleck' groused and squeezed Barney's withered bicep. Once the dumbstruck man complied, the physician slipped around him with an air of hauteur, saying, "fuck, we can't have you folks going and removing this stuff on your own." He continued onto to the bedside, vexation oozing from his words as he ranted, "it's all there to keep you safe. Did you remove this yourself, ma'am, or was it your husband? Nurse! I need a nurse!"

Estelle remained oblivious to the doctor's protests, and terrible facial hair. Instead, she graced her executioner with an adoring smile, before she inspected the grate above her bed. The thin wisps of her eyebrows creased together.

Dr. 'Selleck; fussed with her arm, saying "We're going to have to strap you down if it was you, ma'am. I have to be honest. And if it was you, sir, then you and I are going to talk, and you won't like it. Nurse!"

Barney's reality fractured. His senses only half-returned when the arriving nurse let out a gasp bordering on a scream. He shrank away and sagged against the wall. Cold sweat saturated his wrinkled flesh. Estelle turned from the vent and pinned him in place with a smirk. She always got that impish look when she had a sweet secret to share.

"Vicky?" The doctor stepped over to the portly nurse, one step from slapping her hysteria away. However, this wasn't one of those old sci-fi flicks Barney used to drag Estelle to back in the day so they could neck in the car. After Vicky calmed herself, she set her hand on the doctor's arm and leaned in to whisper. He tried to hush her with a self-important huff, but the woman articulately responded with a hard gesture to Estelle's charts.

Estelle spider-walked her fingers along the steel railing of the bed while the exasperated doctor snatched up the record. Her brittle nails tapped out of sync. The resurrected woman never took her eyes off her husband, even as more staff crowded into the room. Clearly, they were beneath her, akin to ants crawling by. The conceited expression was so alien to his beloved that the seed of terror in Barney's chest rapidly germinated. As it grew so did the strain on his beleaguered heart. Meanwhile, the physician smoothed the edges of his lip-wig while reviewing the charts. Occasionally he looked up at the woman in the bed, and back down to the facts. The clipboard ended up under his arm as he stalked over to Barney.

"Mr. Schell? I need a moment of your time," he ordered. Without waiting for approval Dr. 'Selleck' led Barney out into the hall faster than his diminished legs were comfortable with. The walker was left behind. The gaggle of staff flowed out after them, unwilling to be near the spritely crone.

Dr. 'Selleck' took a moment to collect his thoughts before saying, "sir. I... I am at a loss. Your wife shouldn't be up and about, am I correct? She's scheduled to be unplugged tomorrow, brain death. I... is there some sort of mistake on the charts?"

The last question came across more as a desperate plea than anything else. Barney wanted to pretend that this was all a mix-up. Instead, he spoke the terrible truth, "no mistake."

"There has to be," the doctor said, stroking an awful mustache. Barometric pressure rose as the storm intensified. The air conditioning rattled. The doctor continued speaking aloud, "I'll call Dr. Walters, order some new tests. I..."

No sunlight remained now. Lights flicked on in various rooms, but not Estelle's.

The staff conversed in low tones. They spat out conjectures, yet no one suggested this was a marvel. The air in the building continued to thicken. Dread infected all of them, festering deep in the marrow like the very illness they combated.

An agony-drenched scream echoed from one of the rooms at the end of the ward. Yet none of the staff was startled. On a primal level they all understood it was coming; they were just disappointed it brought no relief from the creeping anxiety.

The blonde tike burst from the room. Driven by blind fear, the little girl bounced off of the opposite wall before righting herself to a stumbling run. Her mother came soon after but only made it halfway through the door when her knees gave out. As she clung to the frame, gouts of bland hospital food gushed from her mouth amid choked sniveling.

Vicky moved for the child. The young doctor and the rest sprinted for that doorway. One of the orderlies lost his footing on the spreading pool of vomit. The vents shuddered again. Barney's fitful gaze traced to Estelle's door. He swallowed hard, and against better judgment trudged back in. His legs felt leaden with age and fear. Vicky dashed for the lift with the youngster pressed to her bulk.

Trembling, Barney considered fleeing, but he needed to know his wife was not the cause of this. He knew she was as soon as he slipped inside, even though the feeble light from the hall didn't stretch further than two feet in. He rested on his walker as soon as he could. Her vague outline perched unnaturally on the bedrail, facing him.

"Close the door behind you, Barney, and turn on the light. I have a surprise for you," she said with the same squeaky voice she'd had for the last decade-and-a-half. Her husband struggled to try to find menace in her tone to match the unholy implication saturating her words but there was none. So, he did as she asked.

[bloodsalted]

dean grips the blade tighter in his palm. defiance clear in every twitch of each facial muscle that yields to the burning rage that threatens to devour every last shred of his patience that he's clinging to by mere threads. hatred spits from a pair of green eyes. intolerance. he's not bowing down. he's not backing off. he's not giving up. there are people who rely on him. rely on the fight. too many to turn his back on. too many to fail.

"respect?" it's laughable. how these celestial assholes just come down here and make their lives living hells and then demand RESPECT. far as he's always understood? respect's earned. not given freely. make that times ten in john winchester's book and you have one hell of a stubborn hunter standing taller as michael does the same. "earn it. you all sit on your god damn high horses. relying on us to finish what you start so we don't suffer for whatever war all of you decide to entertain yourselves with. at the cost of us. respect," his lips twist into a bitter smile--head tilts to the side. "fucking joke."

the verbal punch to his gut that michael deals only has him crinkling his nose. corner of an upper lip pulled into a frustrated, angry snarl. dean starts to charge but is slammed in place by the images that fill his mind. booted feet come to an abrupt halt and a wrinkle of heartache stamps itself between his brows. image after image of failure following failure. a thick swallow and he digs the heel of his free hand into one eye and then the other.

"..and i'm not gonna let that happen to them again. not for you. not for---," oh he can smell jo's hair as he buried his nose into the cool, soft strands begging in his mind that she forgive him for her fate. that he couldn't save her. that he couldn't save her mom. frantic eyes blink wildly as he tries to shake the flashbacks from view. sammy. it's the mention of sam's name that has him snapping back. "i swear to whoever the hell is listening and whoever isn't--that if any of you bastards from heaven or hell hurt him again? i'll tear you apart myself.." there's no acknowledgement to the bending to his will part. no hint that the threat landed or what it did to him. shook him to his core but only solidified his resolve once sam was thrown into the mix. again.

his gaze lands solid, sure on the archangel. "..why can't any of you finish your own battles? why do you sons of bitches keep needing us?"

@bloodsalted Asked:

you’re not my dad. ( michael. lol! )

【༶•⛧┈♛】     ――――    Michael's   eyes   flashed   with   celestial   fire,   his   vessel's   face   contorting   into   a   mask   of   righteous   anger.   ❝   I   think   we’re   both   aware   of   that   at   this   point.   But   I   am   the   sword   of   Heaven,   and   you   will   show   me   some   respect.   ❞

The   room   crackled   with   tension   as   hunter   and   archangel   faced   off.   Michael's   voice   lowered,   taking   on   a   dangerous   edge.   ❝   You   have   no   idea   of   the   forces   at   play   here,   Dean.   This   is   bigger   than   you,   bigger   than   your   petty   human   concerns.   The   fate   of   all   creation   hangs   in   the   balance.   ❞

Michael   stood   tall   and   unfurled   his   wings,   their   shadowy   outline   stretching   across   the   walls   of   the   dingy   motel   room.   The   air   humming   with   raw   power.   ❝   With   all   your   bravado   I   know   you’re   going   to   say   you   make   your   own   choices…   blah   blah   blah.   But   tell   me,   Dean,   how   many   of   your   choices   have   led   to   ruin   ?   How   many   lives   have   been   lost   because   of   your   stubbornness   ?   ❞

The   Archangel   snapped   his   fingers   filling   Dean’s   mind   with   Jo   and   Ellen's   sacrifice,   all   of   Sam’s   numerous   brushed   with   darkness.   ❝   I   could   take   you   now,   break   you   to   my   will.   I’d   like   to   give   you   the   choice   to   make   the   right   choice   here,   but   time   is   wearing   thin.   ❞

Michael's   head   tilted   slightly,   his   piercing   gaze   boring   into   Dean.   ❝   You're   running   out   of   options,   and   you   know   it.   The   world   is   burning,   Dean.   Lucifer   grows   stronger   by   the   day.   How   long   before   he   destroys   everything   you've   ever   cared   about   ?   Including   you   darlin’   Sammy   ?   You   know   there   is   a   darkness   in   Sam   that   he   can't   shake.   It's   only   a   matter   of   time   before   he   gives   into   the   devil.   ❞

[tennessoui]

can we please please get an immediate follow up to Anakin's post-kiss reaction?? What does he do?? What does Obi-Wan do?? I cannot sleep without knowing

look its an actual snippet this time (1k)

On principle, Ahsoka has enjoyed almost every one of Professor Kenobi’s lectures. Really. She wouldn’t have kept taking his classes steadily over the past four years if she didn’t.

But this lecture has proven to be the most interesting and down-right entertaining lecture Kenobi has ever given. Even Cody, Ahsoka’s TA who always sits in the front row and takes diligent notes for his section lessons, has stopped writing and instead is looking at Kenobi with both amusement and concern lining his face.

Someone’s managed to really fuck Kenobi’s focus up today, and Ahsoka is reaping the benefits.

It’s only twenty minutes into the hour, and already Kenobi has trailed off three times mid-sentence and said F. Scott Kissgerald instead of Fitzgerald.

“By most accounts, in his early years Fitzgerald was a Skywalker--”

Cody coughs loudly. Ahsoka adds another little tally mark into the margins of her notes.

“Smooth talker,” the professor corrects himself weakly. “Apologies.”

The poor man runs a hand through his beard and stares sightlessly down at his notebook on the podium. The microphone he’s using to project his voice picks up his fervent curse.

“He was actually quite an asshole, to be frank,” Kenobi says, tapping his fingers on the wood. “He aged with disgrace, we could say and fell to drink and meanness as the people around him...left. His actions were reprehensible and it is no wonder that he died of a heart attack in 1940, probably due to his own alcoholism. Probably alone, probably...lonely.”

Ahsoka blinks and hesitates in adding a tally mark to her collection. She’s not sure if this was a planned part of the lecture or not, but Professor Kenobi sounds so sad, and it’s probably not because of F. Scott Fitzgerald.

The doors to the lecture hall open very loudly. Kenobi’s eyes widen as he sees the newcomer, which makes Ahsoka turn around in curiosity.

Anakin Skywalker is making his way down the stairs to the bottom of the room where Kenobi’s standing, holding a paper bag in his hands and facial features set into a scowl.

Ahsoka’s babysat for him for about three years now, but she’s never seen that expression on his face. She doesn’t blame Kenobi at all for the few frantic steps he backs up across the floor at the front of the room. She’d try to get away too if Anakin was looking like that and coming toward her.

“Anakin,” Professor Kenobi cautions, holding up one of his hands. Ahsoka’s so glad she chose to sit in the second row today, because that means she can hear everything, even without the microphone. “This is neither the time or pla--”

Anakin ignores him as he gets level with the other man and comes to stand directly in front of him. Poor Professor Kenobi looks like he’s about to die and he knows it. It’s a mix of sadness, defiance, and resignation as he seems to wilt in front of Anakin’s person.

Cody, good-hearted Cody, stands from his desk with a wrinkled brow, as if he thinks Anakin’s going to assault Obi-Wan or something.

With that intent, intense expression on his face, Ahsoka has to admit that his concerns don’t seem that far off base.

But instead what happens is that Anakin thrusts the bag into Obi-Wan’s hands. “You forgot your lunch,” he says angrily.

“Oh,” says Obi-Wan, looking down at the paper sack he’s now holding gingerly. “Thank you?” he asks, shooting a glance up at Anakin, as if the other man is a dangerous predator who has done something extremely unexpected.

And then Anakin does something that is perhaps even more unexpected.

He threads the fingers of one hand through Obi-Wan’s hair and places the other hand gently against Obi-Wan’s cheek before he leans down and kisses him soundly.

After a few seconds, Ahsoka has to look away because it feels like she’s intruding on something beyond personal.

Even if what’s happening is happening in front of at least a hundred undergraduates.

One of whom whoops loudly from several rows back. “Get it, Professor!”

That makes Anakin and Obi-Wan break apart, both blushing a sort of worrying shade of red.

Obi-Wan coughs into his fist as Anakin wipes at his spit-wet mouth with the back of his hand. They’re making some intense eye contact with each other, but heaven only knows what they’re communicating.

Anakin turns to go just as quickly as he had entered. “Lunch is the most important meal of the day,” he mutters into the microphone as he passes it, and Obi-Wan turns redder at that, a feat Ahsoka hadn’t known to be possible.

The professor stands right where Anakin left him, completely still until the doors close behind the man.

The lecture hall falls silent, as if everyone is waiting on the edge of their seats to see what their prim and put together Professor Kenobi is going to do after being tongue-kissed within an inch of his life in front of his students.

Ahsoka for one is not surprised at all when Kenobi’s first instinct appears to be pretend that that didn’t just happen.

He goes to stand behind the podium again and clears his throat as he looks down at his notes, very obviously trying to gather his thoughts.

“Right. My apologies. Well. Where? Where was I?” he furrows his brow as he scans his writing, but his mind probably couldn’t be further away. Ahsoka wouldn’t be surprised if his knees were weak.

Finally he sighs into the microphone and rubs at his forehead in defeat. “Class dismissed,” he tells them. “But do the reading please.”

There’s a cacophony of noise as Ahsoka’s peers break into laughter and teasing, already talking loudly amongst themselves as they start to pack up their things and leave.

Ahsoka goes along with them all the way to the doors at the top of the stairs. Then she looks back at Kenobi, who hasn’t moved from his spot behind the podium but is smiling distractedly down into his notebook.

[archersartcorner]

Oh GOD another character focused comic. My brain moves at 1847297329 MPH but my dreadful hands draw so slow…

I had more to this but I wasn’t feeling the direction so I’m just gonna leave it at this. TLDR, Val is struggling with a broken heart and is confused and somewhat angered as to why Ingo isn’t. But I suck at conclusions so here we are LMAO

IDs below cut!

[ID: A digital, non-colored, sketchy comic spread across 5 images.

3 characters are featured. The main character is Valerio, who has jaw-length, wavy black hair, parted in the middle by a widows peak; a triangular face, rounded at the edges to highlight his youthfulness; a thin, hooked nose; and two healed facial scars, one above his right eye, one on his left jawline. He has a thin and lean frame, with slight musculature, and a large scar on his left hip. He’s only wearing briefs, having been trying to get to sleep. The other two characters are Ingo and Emmet, twins with only some slight differences. Both of them have more oval-shaped heads, wrinkled around the eyes, mouth, and brow to show age; thin, long noses that are slightly upturned; strongly receding hairlines, although not completely bald, hair short and slightly fluffy; and sideburns that look almost like an insects’ mandibles, cus that’s how my brain wants to describe them. Ingo appears to be slightly more muscular than Emmet, who’s more on the thinner side, and Ingo’s mouth tends to be depicted like an upwards triangle, a constant frown, while Emmet’s mouth tends to be depicted like a downwards triangle, a constant smile. It’s implied both of them sleep near-nude as well, and are shirtless throughout the comic.

The first image contains three panels, one on the left and two to the right of it, one on top of the other. The first panel shows Ingo and Emmet in bed, Emmet resting on Ingo’s chest, while Ingo looks off panel at a ringing noise heard to his right. The second panel shows the source of the ringing, Ingo’s phone, being held up by Ingo off panel. The incoming call is from Valerio. The third panel is Ingo and Emmet again, but Ingo’s answered the call, a tired and confused look on his face. Emmet scrunches up his face in annoyance. Ingo says, “Valerio? Sorry, it’s late over here, but are you okay?” In small text, Emmet whispers, “Why the fuck is he calling?” Ingo whispers back, “Emmie, hush.”

The second image contains four panels in a 2-2 format, top to bottom. The first panel is Ingo and Emmet again. Emmet is smiling, but in an irritated and annoyed way, and Ingo appears less confused and more worried. From the phone, Valerio asks, “… Do you… feel real, Ingo?” Ingo replies, “… What?” In small text again, Emmet mutters, “Does he have to do this shit right now.” Ingo mutters back, “Emmet. Hush.” The second panel shows Ingo worriedly getting out of bed, looking back at Emmet who’s sitting up, still appearing annoyed. Ingo says to Emmet, “Just give me a second, Em.” Emmet replies, “Fine. Fuck off.” Ingo says, “Emmie…” and Emmet replies, “Just go and help the fucking kid out, Arceus fuck.” Ingo replies, “Alright, alright…” The third panel shows a cup of coffee with Ingo’s hand laying over it, leading into the fourth panel where Ingo is speaking with Val over the phone, coffee in his other hand. Ingo says, stretching between both panels, “Talk to me, Valerio. What doesn’t feel real? Is it just being back home? Do you maybe feel a little… out of place, being away so long?” Valerio responds, “… didn’t you?”

The third image contains only two panels, side by side, mostly dialogue heavy. The first panel contains Ingo, calmly talking into the phone. His dialogue stretches into the second panel, finally showing Valerio, who’s crying heavily, laid on his side in bed, phone next to him. Ingo says, “Not particularly, actually. I know, I’ve been there for a decade, but… I saw Emmie, and it all came back to me. I realized what I missed, who I missed. I still have my memories of Hisui. The people there will always be in my heart, the time I spent with them will always be important to me. But I’m glad to be home now, Valerio. This is our home.”

The fourth image contains four panels, 2 on top and 2 on bottom. The first panel shows Ingo, still speaking into the phone. There’s not really a whole lot of dynamic movement here lol, sorry. Ingo says, “… Why do you think you feel so differently, Valerio?” Val responds, “Fuck if I know. I just feel so… hollow. Wrong, here…” The second panel shows Valerio, who moved to lay on his back, staring away from the phone, his left hand grabbing at the bed blanket. Ingo asks, “… Do you miss anybody, Valerio? … You miss Volo, don’t you?” Val responds, “I… goddamnit.” The third panel shows Val sitting up, dangling his feet off the edge of the bed. He’s holding his phone now in his right hand. Val says, “… I went to Hisui the other day - “Sinnoh,” I mean…” Ingo asks, “How was it?” Val continues, “… I went to Volo’s grave.” The fourth panel closes up on Valerio’s face, panicked, confused. Sad. Val continues, “It… it didn’t - I was JUST talking to him, just a few weeks ago, I… fuck, it’s like there’s the rational part of my brain, that reminds me that was all 200 years ago, but… It - it can’t be, he can’t be dead… he was just here…”

The fifth image contains 4 panels, two on top and two on bottom again. The first panel shows Valerio, quieted from his previous panic, replaced by an overwhelming sadness. He holds his face in his left hand, phone in the other. Val finishes, “… I do miss him. A lot…” Ingo replies, “Oh Valerio… I’m sorry. I visited the burial sites for the clans some time ago as well. It was cathartic, for me, at least… but it sounds like it was too soon for you.” The second panel shows Ingo, still talking through the phone. Valerio says, “Fuckin’ seems like it, huh?” Ingo replies, “Valerio… do you have someone to talk to about this?” The third panel shifts back to Valerio again, still sad, but now confusion shows in his expression. Val responds, “… I’m talking to you.” Ingo says, “Valerio, I can’t help you with this. I’m sorry, I don’t have the means-” Val interrupts, “So what, some shrink would? Ingo, please, you’re literally the only one on earth who understands…” The fourth panel shifts back to Ingo, who says, “Valerio, I get the weird space-time bullshit, I do. You’re dealing with a broken heart, son. You’re dealing with grief. Maybe a therapist wouldn’t totally understand, but they know how to help with grief. Just… consider it, please, Valerio. A therapist, or your mother, your cousin, anyone.”

It ends there. The comic was purposefully left incomplete.

END ID.]

[rayslittlekitten]

You Got This - Part 2

I recommend reading Part 1 first if you haven't.

Plot: After having a heart to heart, you and Jax re-live your youth.

Pairing: Jax Teller x F! Reader

Contains: a lot of fluff and fluffy sex, also a shit ton of Jax smoking porn, and you see his butt 🙃

A/N:  Thank you Anon for this request.  I hope you and the other readers enjoy this (if not more) than the first part. This took me longer than I expected to write this, but it's finally done.  I kept going back and forth on trying to decide what to include and what not to.  Also, had I known I was going to be writing a part two for this, the beginning of this would have been at the end of part one, but hindsight is 20/20. I actually did already write out most of the beginning but decided to leave it out of part one because I thought where I left it was a good place to end it. I also thought about eliminating it completely but I really like the interaction that happens with Gemma.  To me it's like a beauty shot. Is it necessary and does it move the story along at all? Not quite, but it looks good so let's just leave it in there anyways. Also to squeeze a little bit more angst out of Jax.

Also, I had a bit of trouble writing this as well because as strange as this sounds, I couldn't find the perfect song to pair with this.  Sometimes I need music to help me get into the mindset and mood.  I was going for like a nostalgic summer love kinda thing. I had actually thought to use a song form the mid-90s because to really make it feel nostalgic and Shanice's "Saving Forever For You" was the winner for that but I decided it was not right for this. Maybe their actual first time, yes.  Then it was a toss up between "Honey Whiskey" by Satica and "Take Me Away" by Sinead Harnett/EARTHGANG and the latter won given the situation. I'd recommend giving it a listen below (or any of the songs listed) to get the mood I was going for while writing the sex scene. I really thank you for reading my ramblings if you've gotten this far. I just want to give the readers the best experience to my stories and how it was intended when I wrote it.

A loud commotion outside interrupts the moment and you both realize you need to get dressed before someone finds the both of you.  He pulls out of you and you both quickly get yourselves together. You hop into the bathroom inside the bedroom to clean yourself up. When you walk out, you see Jax sitting on the bed smoking a cigarette with all his clothes and hair in place, like he had been sitting there this whole time and didn't move from his spot when you first walked in.  He glances over to you and you're reminded of how his handsome charming face is something you miss so much.

"I should probably go before someone starts looking for either of us." You walk out of the bathroom and towards the front door.  Jax grabs your hand and pulls you back to him.

"Hey." He stands up, cups your face and looks at you. "It's really good to see you again."

Suddenly you both hear the door knob rattling and then a knock following it.

"Jax, are you in there, honey?" You both hear Gemma on the other side of the door. 

You both separate and smooth yourselves out and Jax walks over to open the door. 

"Honey, what are you doing in here? Tara--" Gemma's facial expression shifts when she spots you. She looks at the both of you suspiciously. You both thought you were so slick when you were younger but if there was anyone who knew what you both were up to, it would be Gemma. Nothing slips past her. In fact, she’s always secretly hoped you two would get together. You were born into SAMCRO, making you MC royalty. The Princess of Charming.

"Oh, I didn't know you were in here too. I'm very sorry about Opie, sweetheart." 

"Thank you, Gemma." You walk closer to the door and Gemma pulls you in for a tight hug and a kiss on the cheek.

"Where's your fiancé?" Gemma asks curiously.

"Fiancé?" Jax glances over at you.

"I came by myself this time," you answer. "We're kind of on a break." You wrinkle your nose.

"I'm sorry to hear that too. Must be one hell of a break." Gemma's knowing eyes are boring a hole into you. "Lyla tells me you're staying a while?"

"Yeah, I'm gonna help her out with the kids for a week or so until she can figure it out.  I know you and the club will be a big help, but with everything going on, I think her and the kids can use another familiar face."

"Family is important and I'm very happy to see you here." Gemma's eyes shift to Jax with the same knowing look she gave you. "Well, whenever you're ready, Tara's looking for you."

"Thanks, mom." Jax runs his hand over the top of his hair. Gemma glances at you both again once more before she walks away.

You start making your way out the door when Jax pulls you back in.

"You're engaged?" Jax asks with wide eyes.

"Was," you reply. 

"Was it to that pretentious English prick you brought back with you last time?" Jax snarls.

"Ray is a good guy and he treats me really well. We're just going through a bit of a rough patch right now," you tell him. "Also, the last I heard, you're married with two children, Teller."

Jax just looks at you, knowing he has no right to be upset about you being with another man.

"And I believe your wife is looking for you," you say before walking away from him as you see your nephews and niece running up to you. "Hey guys!"

Jax takes a drag of his cigarette while he continues watching you as you kneel down to greet the kids.

A few days later...

The sun is beginning to set and Jax is at the clubhouse. Most of the people have already left. He needs some quiet and alone time after spending a few days earlier in the week not just watching his best friend get killed, but also saying goodbye and laying him to rest. He climbs up the ladder onto the roof of the clubhouse, one of his favorite places to think and reflect quietly while smoking.  What he didn't expect to find is someone else had beat him to the spot.

"I didn't know you were here," Jax says as he walks over and sits next to them. "You've been avoiding me like the plague all week."

"I miss watching the sunset," you reply without looking at him.

"The sun doesn't set where you are?" Jax asks as he lights up a joint.

"It's not the same."

Jax takes a long drag and then offers it to you. 

You look at it for a moment and form a small smile before taking it from him.  The roof was also a place you both frequented in your youth to smoke pot, away from your parents and the adults. Eventually they figured out your secret spot, but it didn't stop you guys from coming back. You take a pull and hand it back to him.

"I also miss this.  There is nothing like California-grown weed."

Jax takes a hit and blows out the smoke from the corner of his mouth.

"Do you ever miss me?" Jax looks over at you and passes the joint back to you.

You look over to him and squint an eye to prevent the sun from blinding you.

"Yeah, sometimes I do."

"Does your English weed taste like fucking tea and crumpets?" Jax jokes.

"Oh, I get the best shit there is over there. Trust me." You chuckle. "But... it's not home."

"So why don't you come home?" Jax looks back at you with the same squinty face.

You look at him for a moment deciding what you want to say. "You know, that's the reason why Ray and I put the engagement on hold. With everything happening here, I wanted to be closer to family. Figure my shit out." You take another drag and return the joint back to him.

"There's more than family that would love to see you back home too." Jax reaches for your hand and squeezes it.

"Jackson, what happened the other day, we both acted out of impulse. We were both just... vulnerable.  I'm sorry if it gave the wrong impression."

Jax shakes his head, then takes another long pull of the joint. “Ope was like my moral compass, kept me grounded and always pointed me in the right direction, and now he's gone, because of me."

"Jackson, you can't--" You start shaking your head.

"You’re the closest thing I have left of Ope. I need you." Jax holds your hand.

"Jackson, in your heart, you always knew what was best. You don't need me." You push a loose chunk of his blonde hair away from his face and tuck it behind his ear.  "I know you're hurting, but I can't fill the void that Opie left. Nothing ever will. Just focus on what's important to you and you'll figure it out.  You always did." You smile at him while caressing his cheek with your thumb. "You got this." He closes his eyes and leans in to your hand, soaking in your touch.

"You still have too much faith me." He turns his head slightly to kiss the palm of your hand.

"Yeah, maybe. Besides, our boat sailed a long time ago," you add, pulling your hands away from him and looking away. Jax takes the last drag of the joint and tosses it off the roof.

"Maybe that boat can make one last stop before sailing away for good?" Jax gently grabs your chin and turns your head to him to look into his slightly droopy eyes.

Even all this time, it's still hard to not get lost in his baby blues. It's even harder with the perfect setting: the firey orange sky, the slight California breeze, the clubhouse rooftop. Maybe it's the weed, but it feels perfect in the moment. It's all taking you back to the summer when you were 14, when the only care in your worlds were right in front of each other. It's also the perfect setting for cruising around. Jax use to "borrow" one of the bikes from the clubhouse and take you on joyrides, basking in the sun while the wind hits your faces.

He slowly leans into you, and you close the distance, pressing your lips against his. Jax immediately responds and kisses back, his tongue slipping between your teeth. You can taste whiskey mixed with a faint linger of cigarettes and marijuana. Jax cradles your neck and pulls you in closer to him.

The loud roar of a motorcycle driving by and backfiring breaks you up.  You both are brought back to reality that you are both still on a rooftop and a bit baked.

"Come on, let's get inside." Jax jerks his head towards the latch.  Jax helps you down the ladder first and he follows behind.  He quickly makes a sweep and doesn't see anyone except for a few guys at the bar with their back turned towards the both of you.  Jax grabs your hand and leads you back into the spare bedroom you both were in earlier in the week. This definitely feels like you both are hormone-driven teenagers again, sneaking around the clubhouse. 

Once Jax closes and locks the door, he turns his attention back to you but he stops in his tracks to really look at you. All of you. He never thought he'd ever be with you or see you like this again.  What happened the other day was different.  Like you said, it was a moment of weakness, an impulsive move on both of you because of shared pain.

This time, there is no urgency, there is no hurt, just the two of you re-living a moment the two of you wish you had the opportunity to experience over and over again. This time it's intentionally and purely for the most selfish reasons. He walks over to you and presses his lips onto yours, taking his time to actually taste and feel your soft lips on his.  He pulls you in close to his body as his hands explore yours.

As the both of you continue to deliberately and slowly make out, Jax grabs your ass and presses himself against you, feeling his erection through your clothes. Jax pushes you backward towards the bed and you fall back when you feel the edge hit the back of your knees. He falls on top of you and expertly starts disrobing you while making out with you.  In one quick swift, Jax pulls your shirt over your head, leaving you in a satin black bra.  He takes his time with you, starting with his lips on your neck, licking and kissing it, even nibbling at it.  He's always wanted to leave a hickey on you, letting all the guys know you're taken. He then makes his way down to your collar bone, the top of your chest and then pulls down your bra on one side to reveal a nipple.  He puts his mouth over it and swirls his tongue around it.  Jax looks up to see your reaction and find you looking back biting your lower lip. He smirks and pulls down the other side of your bra and gives that nipple the same attention, making you arch against his mouth. 

"Oh, Jackson," you moan.

He lets out a low growl.

"As much as I want to hear all the sexy noises coming out of your mouth while I'm pleasuring you, you gotta keep it quiet, darlin'." He kisses you while he unhooks your bra and tosses it aside. He then unbuttons your pants and backs himself off the bed. He slowly slides your pants and thong off your hips and down your legs. He licks his lips, excited to unwrap you like his present. You watch him as he lowers himself to his knees and kneels at your feet to help you with your boots and removes the rest of the clothes off your body.  Suddenly feeling a bit exposed and shy like it's your first time with Jax, you keep your legs together. Jax places his hands on each of your knees and coaxes them open. He looks at his gift and licks his lips.

He dives in between your legs while looking up at you. His soft lips and warm wet tongue are licking and sucking you on all the right places and his beard tickling your inner thighs.  That's new to you.  He barely had peach fuzz in his teens. You feel him slip a finger inside you as his lips are pulling at your clit.  Your breathing is getting shorter and more shallow.  Jax inserts another long finger in you and finds your g-spot, rubbing circles on it.

"Jax, I..." Feeling your orgasm building, you are rendered speechless. Jax continues sucking and stroking you until you come undone into his mouth and on his fingers. He watches you squirm and thrash as you scream quietly in ecstasy. He doesn't stop until you are sensitive to his touch and you push him away.  He wipes his beard and smiles at you, proud of his accomplishment. Jax surely still knows his way around your body.

You glance up to him as he gets to his feet.  You watch him strip his clothes off, first the kutte, then his shirt pulled over his head.  He kicks off his sneakers as he takes his time unbuckling his belt and unbuttoning his jeans.  You're glad he's taking his time though because it allows you to soak up and remember every second you have with this gorgeous man in front of you.  He finally pulls his jeans and boxers down.  Besides from the other day, the last time you and him were this intimate, the both of you were shorter, slimmer and clearly less experienced.  Now you’re both grown, gained curves and muscles and are far more seasoned in the bedroom.  He's also certainly grown in other places as well.

"Back up," Jax nods his head as he climbs onto the bed and  hovers above you.  You scoot back so your whole body is on the bed.  Jax lays on top of you and smashes his lips against yours again, cradling your neck and grinding against you.  You can feel the head of cock teasing your opening.

"Maybe we should use a condom this time," you tell him in between kisses.

"I'm not gonna lie.  You did feel amazing without one the other day," Jax admits.

You and Jax had always been careful and taking the right steps when you were younger, using condoms at all times so that time was the first time you both had sex without one. Thankfully you are on birth control and both are STD-free, but you know you shouldn't take any chances.  

You give him a knowing look.

"Anything for you, darlin'." Jax gives you a kiss on the cheek before getting up to put on a condom.  He climbs back on top of you and looks at you as he caresses your face, still not believing that you're beneath him.

You gently grab his face with both hands and kiss him deeply. You then feel him slip inside you. All of him.  You moan into his mouth and move with him, both of your hips slowly thrusting in unison. Jax grabs your hands and brings them above your head. He intertwines his fingers with yours and thrusts deeper into you.  He watches you while you relish in the moment, as he pulls these lost emotions from you with each deliberate push.  You wrap your legs around his waist and it encourages him to pick up the pace.  You try to do the same and meet his rhythm.

Jax releases your hands and reaches for your legs behind him and brings them in front of him to rest on his shoulders, deepening his access to you.  His hand reaches up to cradle your neck as he pounds into you. You then feel his thumb slide over the front of your throat.  You start to feel his fingers tighten slightly around your neck. This is also new for you and Jax, but you're loving it.  You can feel yourself getting closer to achieving another orgasm.

"Jackson..." you pant.

"Come for me, darlin'.  I know you're there," Jax grunts.

You close your eyes and feel bliss as you let yourself go, letting your body take over you.  After your orgasm subsides, you open your eyes and find Jax is no longer making love to you, but just smiling at you while still inside you. Now it's time for you to show him a few tricks you've learned.

"Get on your back," you tell him.

Without any protest from Jax, you both switch positions.  Jax lies on his back with this hands behind his head, waiting for you to take the wheel.  You straddle him and take your time sinking yourself onto him.  You feel a lot more confident about being on top than you did when you were younger.  You were shy and inexperienced.  Now? You're going to ride him like the sexiest Harley you've ever had the privilege of sitting on. You slowly start riding him, rocking back and forth, grinding on him and teasing him. You enjoy the feeling of him filling you up to the hilt as you push down on him.

Jax looks up at you, watching you take charge and own his dick.  He definitely notices you're a lot more comfortable in this position than he remembers.  He reaches up and runs his hands over your breasts, massaging them and caressing your nipples as you enjoy the ride. He's certainly enjoying the view.

"You are still as fucking beautiful as the day I fell in love with you," Jax says, mesmerized by the image in front of him.

You smile and then lean back, placing your hands behind you on his thighs. Jax looks at you curiously. You roll your hips and start sliding up and down on him, giving him a clear view.  He looks down and watches himself disappear in and out of you.

Jax groans and runs the palms of his hands over your thighs and settles on your hips.  One of his hands then slides over between your legs and he starts rubbing circles on your clit with this thumb. You moan and gasp. You then lean forward, placing your hands on the pillow of each side of his head and lean down closer to him.  You start bouncing your ass up and down as you look down on him, your hair forming a curtain around your faces.  Jax grabs your ass and starts thrusting up to meet your movement. The only sounds echoing in the room are your pants and your bodies slapping against each other.  Jax speeds up and watches your face as it distorts.  He knows you've got another one inside you and you're very close.

"Come on, darlin'. Let it go." Jax coos.

You let out a loud moan as your legs shake and feel like a firecracker exploded inside of you.  Jax clamps a hand over your mouth as he continues to drill inside.

"There you go, Y/N." Jax smiles watching you fall apart on top of him.  He then swiftly flips you onto your back and roughly drives into you a few more times until he finally gets his own release.

As he slows down, you both look at each other, savoring the moment and then kiss softly.

Suddenly the door knob starts to rattle and the person on the other side is banging on the door.

"Yo, hurry it up! I gotta take a shit!" an unrecognizable voice shouts.

"Hey asshole, the bathroom is further down!" You both hear Chibs shouting. You place your hands over your mouth as you start to laugh.

"Shh!" Jax puts a finger over his pursed lips as he tries to suppress his own laughter.

SMASH CUT TO BLACK

A/N: I never put notes at the end but I figured I'd let you enjoy the fic first before mentioning I currently don't have plans to expand this story. I might in the future, but not in the near future.  I originally intended the first part to be short and be a one off, but I just kept writing and writing and there were so many places and opportunities to keep expanding. Same for part two.  There were so many directions I could have gone. I had a bit of struggle with this for some reason. It's not quite exactly how I pictured it ending but it works for what it is.

If you haven’t read it yet, I wrote two short scenes titled “Carry Me Home” and “Joyride” which are like flashbacks in this universe.