#he doesn't make any friends outside of there

[shanastoryteller]

Happy birthday Shanaaaaaa! Can you continue Jiang Chen time travel please?

a continuation of 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18

Jiang Fengmian has known Nie Haoyu since they were children sneaking away from their parents to get into trouble together. The Nie and the Jiang get along, historically, by being the only clans that that aren't either insane or stuffy to the point of insanity or, in the case of the Lan, both. They weren't especially close, but there has always been a sense of ease and camaraderie between them that endured through to their adult years.

Time and duties as sect leaders means they see each other rarely and correspond even less, one of those friendships never seems to suffer from time spent apart.

When he hears that his friend has taken on a wandering cultivator as a husband, he doesn't think anything of the tawdry gossip and is only pleased for him. Ziyuan makes several disparaging comments that he ignores with the ease of long practice. Nie Haoyu has already married twice for duty and has two heirs to show for it. A match such as this can only be for love.

Then hears the name of the husband is Wei Cheng and he wonders - but no, Wei is common enough, and Changze hadn't spoken of any family outside the walls of the Jiang.

But he hears that the cultivator has a child, a boy the same age as his own son by the name of Wei Wuxian, and he writes to Nie Haoyu immediately.

The response is both quick an apologetic - he'd thought that Jiang Fengmian had known, otherwise he would have written him sooner.

Wei Cheng is a cousin of Changze and his son is not his son by blood, but is the son of Changze and Cangse Sanren, the one that Jiang Fengmian had thought for sure had died on the streets.

It's an aching relief to know that his friend's son still lives. When he meets Wei Cheng, he'll have to thank him for doing what he could not.

[wei-meddling-wuxian]

I didn't expect a response to my tags - I just left them there on a whim for me to get back to and ponder (hence the lotus pods tag for myself) so this response is going to be scattered. Some of it is based on the minimal experience I have with danmei, my lot of experience with fantasy (and my own upbringing in an Indian/asian household)

I don't expect JFM "being better" to fix the whole problem - YZY is still there causing her own problems - going back to "attempt the impossible" the importance is for JFM to still try, and try visibly (I don't know about you but if my mom yelled at my dad for not caring enough about me and he did nothing to actually refute it or didn't refute it convincingly or at least didn't come to talk to me about it after, I'd be pretty hurt. sure there's no point in arguing with YZY who will continue to yell about it but either take her out of the room so you don't argue in front of the kids or fight back to show you care in anyway isn't good enough) - if he fought back off screen or sat down with JC, there's no evidence of it that I've seen (and considering how jc keeps revisiting the past, I would expect to see something)

I also don't think JFM is a bad guy, just flawed, - he's arguably the best dad, consider WRH and JGS spoil their kids while not raising them, JGS neglecting and abusing his illegitimate children and QHJ just didn't raise his kids at all. I also think he loves JC as his son, he just didn't like him as a person and he made that very clear to the point JC and people outside of the sect realized it too. And yes its a character flaw and make him more real that he's strong in his conviction but also refuses to intervene but my point is that there are somethings worth breaking the mold for and your child should be one of them

I do think at least 70% of jfm and jc's relationship issues is just finding the right wavelength to settle on - like the conversation at wwx's bed with jfm and jc after wwx is rescued from the cave - jc was very insensitive with what he said but his tone and behaviour (especially after we see that he drastically shortened the journey back to get aid, travelled tirelessly and carried wwx on his back) shows that he was worried about jc (his priorities throughout the series is clearly family > sect > everything else) show something different - which wwx can see but jfm can't - and clearly jfm was right to point out that jc's words were insensitive and wrong but there's something called framing - and that comes with knowing someone (the way I would say something to my mom is very different than how I would talk to a friend or my boss). JC has just come from a very tense and exhaustive situation (to be fair, I tend to give jc more grace because 90% of the situations he's in are high stress and exhaustive) and he's panicked and worried and the praise wwx's receiving for killing a mythological creature doesn't negate the risk or the injuries or the danger wwx is in and that should be called out too but isn't (or isn't to the degree that it should be for jc) . also one thing that grates my gear with parents and jfm too, is the belief that you can't teach them or nurture them - this interaction feels like jfm believes jc has "bad traits" too close to yzy and there for are innate flaws that can't be addressed and I just don't believe parents should be allowed to settle for this . adding this miscommunication + jc feeling like he doesn't get support or attention from jfm (the dogs getting taken away it seems without any meaningful convo, the only handful hugs) and you don't get a really good picture (again there are biases here but there's some basis for this too)

Arguing about CSSR Rumors - one thing mdzs makes very clear is that rumors matter, even if they aren't true but aren't fully lies either - wwx did create a heretical form of cultivation that is detrimental to the psyche of a person and he did kill a shit ton of people in Nightless City and he did house Wens in the burial mounds - contexts tell us his motives weren't malicious but was done in desperation but doesn't erase the people that died and the consequences of his actions --- kind of off tangent but asoiaf has a similar scenario where catelyn stark has to raise her kids along side her husband's bastard child - she was cold to him because he was a threat to her kids inheritance (precedent exists in universe re; blackfyre rebellion) but she didn't abuse him or hurt him in anyway (just didn't interact with him) - so in a patriarchal society, jfm's actions and behaviour has a lot of weight and while yzy is toxic in her own right, most women are aware of their station and what it means and if she truly saw WWX as a threat to her children (and it happens canonically - jgy got to lead llj by his intelligence but also blood claim through the paternal side) and not good to have close to them and hated those rumors, the least that JFM could have done was publicly affirm who WWXs parents are and deny any allegations - again it might not have fixed things but at least we can see he tried

taking into account yzy's reaction to wwx would be another thing - jfm rooming wwx (a servant's son) with jc (sect heir) probably pushed the situation into the "too late to do anything about it category" but still, at least get them out of there | kind of tying into the head disciple thing (and I do get this could have been done to position him to be the right hand of the sect leader and also give him a place to belong in ymj) , I didn't expect that jc would be head disciple instead, in my head it was another shixiong - with respect to the duties of a head disciple, since they're still kids, I put it at camp councilor with bit extra and as someone who was one while I was a teenager, yea you need to be engaging and fun and creative but you also need to be organized, patient and establish the rules early on and the latter half of these traits are more important - i think WWX is very much a trendsetter but doesn't really have the mindset or traits of an effective leader in the longterm; I brought up some sort of talisman station as an idea, I don't think he should be solely responsible for it either - basically some way to get out his creative juices and let him belong in another way in a way that won't so easily put him in comparison with jc who is the same age as him, is the sect heir and is "falling behind" because he can't keep up with a once-in-a-lifetime genius wwx- his blatant favoritism of wwx is making things worse - as for yzy taking it out on disciples, jfm is the sect leader, his word is essentially, if she's able to do all this, it's with him not actively stopping it. and normally i would be against using power like this but when it comes to children who can't protect themselves? you do what you have to do

I personally don't only look at just the text and take it at face value - at least the way I read, it requires some extrapolation to speculate and grow theories and its just more fun to discuss so sure we don't have enough information for a full picture but there's enough to at least create an image of some sort - that includes politics, sexism, racism, classism and more - so yea I think yzy is the worse parent but I also want to take into account her role as a woman, female cultivator and a mother. which adds layers - yzy is an abusive parent but context is important, just like it was for wwx (as for JGS pulling on JC's strings - we are told that JC is going into this meeting super tired, is stressed out by being a sect leader so young with the right hand he was promised and cared for skimping of his duties - he's not really in the mental state to decode an adult sect leader who is skilled at manipulation

i do think the jfm hate goes over the top and there isn't enough calling out yzy on her abusive behavior but I also think a part of it is the difference - yzy is overtly and clearly abusive, jfm isn't abusive but the way he goes about things and the favoritism and resulting comparisons stings in a different way that I relate to as an Indian kid with a very impressive older brother and a very impressive friend (both of whom I love to peaces but coming to terms with myself did impact my side of my relationship with both of them (not to the degree it did these characters tho)) - a little bit of a side tangent with favoritism and it's political impact is shown when wwx punches jzx in the face for acting lackadaisical towards jyl but also points out how its widely known that jfm favors wwx over jc who is the sect heir and then we have the following scene where jc states that he was close to punching jzx as well and wwx comments that if he did, at least jfm wouldn't come (this entire scene shows how other sects are perceiving jfm's favoritism and how, probably through rumors, it's impacting their dynamic) - so if someone inside the sect (wwx), outside the sect in their cohort (jzx) and someone outside the sect from a different generation (jgs) call out this dynamic, then its clearly more longstanding than a few jabs here and there and yzy's explosive tantrums.

Overall, I do think JFM is a good person, it's the "is he a good parent?" debate that's more grey (and if the bar is yzy, then yea he's fine but is that where we're keeping the bar?)

to each their own 🤷‍♀️

The reason I keep banging the Jiang Fengmian drum so hard is not that he did nothing wrong--he's definitely in contention for best parenting in this book but that bar is in the ground--but because most of the takes I see about him are so extremely bad.

If you want to slag him off for trying to make choices that would hurt no one, and winding up properly protecting no one as a result, that's valid! That's an interesting and text-based critique, which opens into his parallels with Lan Xichen!

If you want to blame him for being weirdly over-invested in Wei Wuxian and Jiang Cheng being bffs, that's fair, that definitely contributed to the weirdness between them. If you want to say he was a poor communicator, that he fundamentally misunderstood his son, that he failed to be emotionally available in a way his kids could get much use out of, even that he should have figured out a way to stop Yu Ziyuan from creating such a hostile environment, all of that is fair game!

If you want to tackle how the worst thing he did to his kids was die I am so interested in how Wei Wuxian went on to abandon A-Yuan by going to his death, and how that might be tied to how his primary adult role model tied him to a boat and went off to a fight he knew he was going to lose.

After his parents had already left him like that once before, presumably less intentionally.

But no, instead I keep seeing that Jiang Fengmian didn't care. That he never expressed affection. That he actively participated in Yu Ziyuan's fucky game of forcing proxy conflict onto the boys instead of constantly trying (and failing) to shut it down, or that he ignored her bad behavior because it didn't affect him, or that he fought with her constantly, or that he was too much of an unmanly coward to stand up to her when she wanted something.

All of which are directly in contradiction to every scene he's in, and several of which manage to invert or erase the actual conflicts between him and his wife that were the source of all that tension.

And which are really interesting, because some of the most intractable elements are ideological--Yu Ziyuan is fundamentally a conservative and Jiang Fengmian seems to want to be an egalitarian, which ofc matched poorly with his hereditary authority as patriarch of a large sect.

The fact that the bit where we get to actually see him failing to parent Jiang Cheng consists of him gently and firmly trying to correct Jiang Cheng's ethics when what was actually needed in that moment was reassurance for the well-founded insecurities that were causing him to be a little bitch, only for Yu Ziyuan to charge in and make everything fifty times worse, is so much more interesting than literally any version of this family dynamic I have seen in fic. It's to the point I'm relieved when writers kill Jiang Fengmian off, because it means they probably won't feel the need to character-assassinate him too badly.

The number of people I've seen come right out and say some variation of 'men can't be abused' is killing me here. No, Yu Ziyuan wanting to hurt her husband does not constitute sufficient proof that he abused her first and deserved it! That's not how anything works!

[chaniyahs]

Human

Bucky Barnes x undercover!reader

w.c: ~3.5k

summary: Stalking your best friend is sort of driving a wrench in your super secret mission. Who would have thought.

tags & warnings: (in no particular order) suggestive content. adult themes. making out. fem presenting reader (heels, stockings). race neutral reader! Reader is a little creepy in the beginning ngl. implied self-slut shaming. self-harm in the form of sex that doesn't happen. hurt/comfort. reader is kind of a drama queen. so is Bucky. no use of y/n. not proofread.

a.n: Hi, nice to meet you. This is just a little something while I work on something longer. Thank you for reading! Means so much. Can't promise I'm a steady writer, as I'm a freak college student with a job and many time-consuming hobbies. But I hope I can drop by sometimes and provide something for others to enjoy, or at least share my favorite pieces. The formatting of this post will probably change as I figure out what I want it to look like. Didn't think that far ahead. Okay, thank you bye ha.

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁🫧⋆｡˚

IT'S BEEN SIX MONTHS since Bucky Barnes has last seen you, and roughly three days since you’ve last seen him.

The first time was coincidental. You were in the backseat of a tinted black SUV. Stocking-clad legs had crossed one over the other, the airborne heel dangled haphazardly off your foot, though it was nothing if not intentional. The way the man sat across from you dug his gaze into your flesh almost made it burn with revulsion, but it was one of many testaments to your intentions. You could tell he propped up his left hand on purpose, an awkward position to flash his tacky, yet no doubt expensive, watch in your face to impress you. Your intention. Even the enthusiastic turn of his laptop towards you as he recklessly explained the backgrounds and products of his weapon suppliers; just as you intended.

You'd stored away many of the names in your head. Having a good memory was an important part of your training. The rest of it, though, began to coalesce into background noise. This one had a way of going off on tangents in some way that highlighted his wealth. He wasn't the target by any sense of the word, just a dirty stepping stone, a meager means to an arms-dealer end, and so you were less diligent than you probably should have been. Not that he cared -- you're sure he doesn't think you have much of a brain to listen too long anyway, so you didn't bother to.

Amid your boredom, you'd tilted your head to lean against your hand, elbow digging into the side of the car. Catching a glimpse of the outside world behind him was bittersweet. Your nights were now spent pretending to be interested in one of many forgettable corrupt rich men in the world instead of out there doing anything else. You watched longingly as the people sped by: a group of girls chasing each other and giggling in sparkly skirts, an arguing couple trying to be inconspicuous, a dog half-leading and half-dragging a skinny man along, a new father pushing his baby's stroller as far away from the road as the sidewalk would allow, a leather-gloved hand running through familiar brown locks to drive them away from a familiar stubbled face-

You sat up suddenly. The airborne heel slipped back snug onto your foot as it stabbed into the ground, breath slowing to what felt like a complete halt; heart seized in its beating with a well-known comfort that lied just outside the van. Your eyes followed him as the car raced by, head turning to see him disappear out the back window. Time stops just for you two when you swear he locks eyes with you, but you realize it's probably disbelief at the speed the driver is going on such a crowded street, as this car is far past the legal amount of window tint to be able to see in to. Just as it started, the moment is gone, and he's disappeared into the downtown bustle.

The man you're with doesn't even notice anything changed.

That was roughly a month ago, and it's become something of a problem ever since.

You were meant to be deep undercover, four months of lying and flirting and manipulating undercover. Despite this, in between emotionally draining performances, you'd sneak out to linger around spots you knew he frequented. One of your favorites was the bakery some blocks away from the compound, where he'd sit at the table next to the window and play with the chair that used to be where you sat. Like you were still there, rambling about how unfair the daily New York Times Connection answers were. The only thing new was that he'd swipe any crumbs into a leftover napkin when he got up to leave. That was what you did. Then he'd let his eyes linger on the cold, empty chair and leave, and a couple of minutes later, you'd go in and occupy the same table. On your side.

Weeks of seeing Bucky left you more disheveled than when you began. What started as a one-time thing to get out of your system became a necessity, engrained into your routine and the highlight of your monotonous days. You'd even started to get as reckless as you dared to, wandering closer and closer until this Wednesday when his nose twitched from the familiar scent of you, and you had to duck behind a corner to avoid his searching. You can't help but realize how absolutely out of your mind this op has made you. Pretty much stalking your closest friend. How much lower could you get. Yet you don't stop. Part of you wants him to catch you just once, and so that Friday, you're in his room in the compound while he's out with Sam and Steve, just like he was the first night you saw him.

It hasn't changed much at all. It was still uncannily clean, barely signs that it's lived in if not for the couple of framed pictures on the bedside table. One is of Bucky, Sam, and Steve. Another is of a white cat, one you recognize from a nearby shelter that you, Bucky, and Sam had been to a couple of times. He might have finally got her in your absence, the snowy baby that had captured his heart with her insistence on wrapping herself around his metal arm. Cute. The third, a group picture of everybody in the compound. Towards the front left sat you and Bucky, side by side, your bright smile next to his more straight yet amused expression. Instead of sitting up by the wall, this one laid face up, closer to his pillow. You decide to spare yourself and not think too much into that.

You're about to leave, but something from his bathroom beckons you. Tired fingers drag along his wall as you enter, feeling in the dark for the light switch. When the room finally erupts with light, your gaze is dragged towards the only difference in the room; a folded picture tucked into the mirror's frame, and when you pluck it out to inspect it, its the picture Natasha had taken of you two in some corner of the Quinjet, leaned up against each other. You remembered that day.

Multiple dead-end HYDRA bases had left everyone depleted and disappointed. It had taken Bucky aback when you searched him out and sunk to the floor next to him, filling the quiet he'd found for himself with nothing but your soft breath. At some point, your head lulled to the side, and he began to suggest you go to your sleeping quarters if you're tired, but he can feel your breath deepen, and your weight depend completely on his shoulder, and he can't bring himself to say anything. He would not be able to sleep, certainly not as easily as you had, but in your calming presence he could relax, if momentarily. He could even, remarkably, close his eyes without seeing the bloodstains of his past, and so he did. He listened to the light footsteps that approached without surging up in defense of a perceived attack, though he still opened his eyes again to see Natasha grinning with her phone out, shaking her head.

"Clint owes me $10 now."

There's a small ripped piece of what you assume to be printing paper inside the fold as well, with words written in Nat's handwriting. A date. The exact date you were supposed to be finished with your op, to uphold the timeline of taking down the arms dealer. You knew Nat had a way of knowing things that she should not have; it was her livelihood, but you could only dream of why she'd share it with Bucky. Her teasing of the friendship between you two? If so, certainly spurred on by Tony or Yelena or Sam. Or -- surely not -- had he asked?

A vibration from your phone breaks you out of your thoughts, and glancing at the lock screen, you realize you've spent much longer reminiscing than expected. Like you were never there, you disappeared out the window you came from.

The next week progresses the same. You become somebody else entirely, loosing all parts of yourself, until those fleeting chances at normalcy tempt you again. Eve's apple, your newfound Achilles heel. And when the next Friday rolls around, your heart beats wildly against the confines of your ribcage, itching to claw it open and escape while you climb up towards his window once more. When you finally haul yourself in, you're sure your heart has succeeded at tearing your chest open and abandoning the bloody remains to drop to the floor because you're staring at stormy blue, furrowed eyes instead of an empty room.

The only thing you can manage to do after what feels like an eternity of eye contact is to turn back towards the window. You hear a huff and the scuffle of him standing from the chair he was sitting on, dragged across the room to face the window.

"Don't." His gruff voice calls out, and you almost feel a sense of pleading behind it, but there's not nearly enough emotion to diagnose that.

Your hands grow clammy, and you're suddenly aware of everything: the wind rushing past your face from the night breeze, the way your black jacket hugs you too tightly now, the speeding of your breath, but still you turn back to him in anticipation.

For another eternity, he stares at you, taking in your entire form and then tugging his eye line back up to yours, until finally, finally, he sits again and speaks.

"What are you doing here?" The words are cold and distant and rip the moisture from your mouth. Any response you could have had dies in your throat. You break eye contact with him and lower yourself to sit on the ground in front of the window. After a minute of silence, his voice rings out again, forcing your gaze up with another, louder, "What are you doing here?"

"I don't know," You finally shake your head, throat already burning with shame and eyes threatening to spill over with guilt, "I miss you. I miss us."

Bucky's eyes soften momentarily, but he looks away, and now you're wondering if you imagined it. He tries not to let you see how that word affected him: "us."

"You could ruin your entire mission." He practically mutters it, yet it's the loudest thing you've heard in months. He's completely right. You've dedicated many of your personal resources to making sure your escapades stay secret, but what if you weren't careful enough?

"I could."

"And for what?"

"You." The word tumbles out before you can catch it, and his eyes meet yours again. He purses his lips and rolls them out again, sliding his metal hand through his hair like the night you first saw him.

"Me?" He repeats it under his breath again, more to himself than you. Before you can respond, he pipes up again. "How long?"

You shake your head this time, "I was only in here once. Last week."

Another beat of silence, then, as if reading your mind, he answers your question, "You were wearing the scent you always wear. I know it," a pause, "and you left the bathroom light on."

That makes you wince. Reckless. Stupid. Kind of deserved. Then again, that was what you wanted, right? To get caught? The longer you writhe under his unwavering stare, the more you think it’s absolutely not what you wanted. He doesn't even let you hang your head in humiliation for long.

"You've been around other times too?" He poses it as a question, but it's more a confirmation that he wasn't going crazy that day he smelled you. You know he doesn't need your answer, and instead, you try to answer his question of why again.

"I don't think I can do this without you."

"That's bullshit." He scoffs, leaning down to rest his elbows on his knees while his hands hang between his legs. "You've done it a million times before."

The bluntness of his words make a playground of your already bloodied heart. "I have."

He doesn't respond to this one, only leans back in the chair once more, and you know all this movement comes from a place of frustration. You don't let him keep hammering you with questions before you speak again.

"I know who I am now, Bucky," you trail off as a blur of unoriginal recent months curse your brain, "I did. With you. I don't out there."

He quirks an eyebrow up slightly, allowing quiet room for you to gather yourself and continue.

"I am a really hot assistant."

He grunts in sarcastic agreement, but keeps his composure. As he does. Still staring. Still silence.

"It doesn't matter if it's the government or Fury or the millionth rich asshole, Buck. I am a piece of meat-"

To this, he sits up straight and furrows his eyebrows again, rushing to correct you. He doesn't bother to govern his tone this time. "No, you're good at your job. You're luring the arms dealer out. You're going to save hundreds of thousands of people-"

"Bait is still just meat, no?" You're looking down now, in your head, barely registering when Bucky sinks out of his chair and towards you. The call of your name goes completely over your head; the second call goes in one ear and out the other, until finally, on the third exasperated call of your name, he uses his finger to softly guide your head back towards him. At last, recognition seizes your face as you realize he's saying your name, and the expression makes him painfully aware that you didn't even respond to your own name;

you'd nearly forgotten your own name.

The toll of the mission that you'd been holding back for months suddenly breaks free, surging through you like hurricane flood waters, bubbling up and filling your eyes once more. Bucky only allows for one sniffle before he pushes you by the back of your head into his chest, legs caging around you, shielding you from the world with broad, hunched shoulders and wrapped arms. Just like this, he allows you to let out all your sorrows into his fitted black shirt while he holds you, staring out into the night.

When you've finally gotten past the fit of tears, you push gently on his chest. He gets the hint and releases his hold on you, hands floating away from the back of your head and to either side of your face. He can barely stand to see you so broken like this, but holds your reddened gaze intently, waiting for you to feel comfortable enough to break the quiet, and you do.

"I didn't.. feel like that often. Before you. Human."

He uses a thumb to swipe away a stray tear.

Your expression hardens in determination, and you grasp his wrists with your hands. "I need you to make me feel human again, Jamie."

Jamie.

You've only called him that once before, bringing him down from a rough mental snap that threatened to regress him back into the winter soldier. He sucks in a breath and uses his flesh hand to massage your temple gently. He watches intently as you lean into the action. "You need me?" He's back to muttering.

"I need you, Jamie."

Softly, as if scared to spook a wild deer, he brings your face into his, lips ghosting over yours. He only looks up momentarily to search for any indecision in your eyes, and when he finds nothing but pure need, he guides his mouth to yours.

At first, he's feigning innocence, pressing slow and sweet into you. His flesh thumb draws taut circles in your cheek, metal hand skimming the side of your face and curling itself around the back of your neck. Testing the waters. Then your lips part to moan softly into him; he swallows it, and suddenly, the water is scorching his entire body, overrunning his thoughts. His tongue darts out desperately, pushing past your teeth and savoring your taste. He swells up to his knees, drawing your face up and looming over your sitting form in want. Your hands paw at his still damp shirt wildly, tracing the defined curves and muscles under it.

As he explores your mouth and caresses the back of your head, your finger painting descends lower and lower. The curves take a sudden dive, and you follow them, breathless, fueled with a similar scorching fire to his boiling flood, down the low 'v' of his torso, until his hands leave your head and grab your wrists, stopping them in place. You freeze in fear, looking up at him in confusion. You've misunderstood him, somehow. Surely, you think, you've ruined your relationship with the only thing grounding you, but he runs a metal thumb over your lower lip and chuckles lowly. "You're cute, but don't pout, please."

You're still regaining your breath, chasing the warmth of his hand rapidly leaving. Pouting is in your nature. Natasha hates it when you do it, you and Yelena. Your voice quivers slightly as you move to stand up, fingers finding comfort in picking at one another. "I don't understand."

He looks up at you from his knees, blowing stoutly out his nose. You can't help but admire him like this; out of breath, hair messy and casting handsome shadows down his face, his muscles bulging under his jeans as he remains on his knees for you. One hand reaches out from their place on his thigh, slithering around the back of your own and pulling gently until you step forward voluntarily. The same hand dips under your jacket and rises it just enough so that the skin under is exposed to his mouth, where he plants a gentle kiss. His lips linger at the junction between your lower stomach and hip, eyes fluttering closed and then reopening to peer up at you through his downturned lashes. Finally, he uses your hips as means of steadying himself as he stands.

"Fucking me isn't what will make you human, doll." It's under his breath, but tunnels into your being deeply.

You look down in shame, but can't dwell in it for more than a second before he plants a chaste but just as gentle kiss to your lowered forehead. Then his hand shoots up and he flicks the same spot.

You drive your neck back, head following, and go to rub the spot. "Ow? What the fuck."

He laughs again, louder and less intimately this time, and turns away from you to move to his drawer. You watch with your hand on your forehead as he digs through it, pulling things out every few moves: sweatpants, a sweater, workout shorts. He peels his jeans off casually, only giving you a second to sheepishly admit the definition in his legs to memory before he's replacing the jeans with his sweatpants. The corner of his mouth quirks up when he turns back around, throwing the other two items towards you. You catch them dumbfounded as he takes long strides towards his door, opening it to reveal a small snowflake of a kitten. She meows loudly, like she was waiting a long time to be let in, and struts past him, and Bucky scoffs in response, "Yeah, whatever, Alpine. Be nice."

"You adopted her." Your gaze sinks down to watch her kittenish investigation of you.

He hums in affirmation, still staring down at Alpine as she begins to meow repeatedly in recognition. His voice is low and introspective. "Reminded me of you. We both missed you." He observes her rub up against your leg for a beat longer, then looks back up at you. "Change and get comfy on the bed. Movie night."

He's so agonizingly casual about it all. Doesn't even flinch when you let out a confused, strangled noise in response. He only drives the door open more and begins to disappear around the corner, his voice getting louder to counteract his retreat. "I'm getting snacks. Pick something. No war movies." It's said blandly, but you know it's supposed to make you laugh, and you can see his proud grin in your mind when you do.

This sort of ruins all the dramatic yearning you've been doing, but you suppose you don't mind too much. You'll be back to playing a ditsy someone tomorrow, but tonight, you allow Bucky to serve as your personal lighthouse, guiding you back to your own shore; and you allow Alpine to step on your chest as you situate yourself under the covers, even if the weight of her small paws feel like two elephants crushing your ribs.

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁🫧⋆｡˚

[grogumaximus]

Getting here was his lifelong dream. Is it how he imagined it?

"When you're a kid, you dream of just driving. Instead, I realized that F1 isn't just about getting in a car and racing, but there's also a lot more outside to learn to manage."

Did you also have to adapt your character, which has always been very friendly and open?

"I've changed a lot in the last year, to protect myself. I've realized that private things should remain private and I try to be careful."

Your debut in the rain surprised everyone. What do you like about racing in the wet?

"To be honest, I don't know. It's always come naturally to me in single-seaters. And to think that I didn't like it at all in karts."

In the rain in 2020 he had a bad accident in which he broke his leg. How do you get back into wearing a helmet after an episode like that?

"Maybe that's also why I didn't like the rain in karts. When I returned to the track the year after the accident I really struggled in the rain. I kept going thanks to passion and experience but initially it was a shock."

Was it difficult to overcome?

"Yes, because when something like this has never happened to you, you don't think it could happen to you. It takes time to accept it and to understand how to move forward, how to run without fear again."

This weekend he will be racing his first home race in F1. How exciting will it be?

"I'm so happy. On Friday I'll arrive directly from my house in Bologna and sleep in my own bed before going to the track. It's also my little sister's birthday, so I can celebrate with her."

Will there be someone special by his side?

"My whole family, my best friends and even my classmates. Since I can't go on school trips, I thought I'd take them to the track with me over the weekend."

His father is following him in all the races of the season. How does he help him?

"We analyze each session together to see where I can improve. And then dad is my rock, he is the one I can always count on and having his support in this very important year for me is fundamental."

Among the challenges of this year there will also be the Maturity exam to take. Are you ready?

"I'm a little nervous. Unfortunately I won't be able to take the exams with my classmates because I have competitions in that period, but I want to get there, also to make my mother proud, she means a lot to me."

He has an extraordinary memory: He can remember all the times he has achieved on the track over the years. Is this talent a help in F1?

"I'm not sure where this ability comes from. When I want to beat a time it sticks in my head and remembering the ones from previous years allows me to understand the conditions of the track. Let's say that in general it helps me to arrive prepared, but I don't do it on purpose, it just happens."

We often see you with Verstappen. Do you get along?

"I think people can get the wrong idea about Max: on the track he's an animal but off it he's a very nice guy. We really like GT and simulator racing, we have a lot in common."

You took Hamilton's place at Mercedes. Does the comparison weigh on you?

"No, because I know I'm not his replacement. I simply feel like the new Mercedes driver and I'm grateful for the opportunity that has been given to me."

His girlfriend Eliska was a go-kart racer. Is it important for her to know the environment?

"A lot. She doesn't compete anymore, she's chosen to focus on her studies, but the fact that she understands everything that goes into it helps me. And then when she comes with me to the paddock she knows how to move, I know that if I leave her alone she won't have any problems".

How is the relationship with Peter Bonnington, your race engineer?

"Very nice. At the beginning I saw him a bit tense because I'm a very physical guy, I like to hug people, touch them, and "Bono" wasn't used to it, he's more "British". Now that he's opening up I'm very happy when he comes to hug me".

Are the goals you set before the start of the season the same ones you have today?

"No, now they've got up. We have a competitive car and we've achieved some great results. Now I want the first podium, that's the next goal. And then we'll think about the first win."

Is there anything you miss about having a normal life?

"Since I was little I've gotten used to living a life different from my peers. But running is what I love, what I've always wanted to do and what I'll want to do for the rest of my life. Nothing really weighs me down."

[gotaksboyfie]

Hiiii ! I LOVE your work o(^o^)o

Can i request a go hyuntak fluff

real or fake?

gif creds: @billornot

pairing go hyuntak x gn reader

summary baku and his big mouth leads people to believe you and hyuntak are dating after a small misunderstanding. for some reason, hyuntak doesn't want to deny it?

word count 1.3k

warnings/tags fluff, no angst

it starts with baku walking in at the worst time possible.

you and hyuntak were in the library. you were helping him study for his upcoming quiz (he really needs it) when you noticed something.. moving in his hair?

"gotak, stay still for a second." you mutter. eyeing you suspiciously, hyuntak freezes in place.

you scoot closer to hyuntak and search his scalp, was it a bug or just a trick of light? you tug on hyuntak's collar to bring him closer and he lets out a small yelp of surprise.

"ow-! what was that for?" he scowls, scooting his chair closer. you're too busy focusing on finding what the fuck was in hyuntak's hair to notice baku entering the library, somehow missing the sound of this thunder stomps coming towards you.

"yah, yah, yah—! reader!" hyuntak pats your hand repeatedly to try and warn you to let go, but you're locked in on his scalp. you finally pluck it out, and it turns out it was just a small piece of loose fabric. huh.

you glance up to see baku staring at the both of you. flicking his eyes around, his jaw drops further and further down. he brings a staggered hand to point between you and hyuntack.

you stare at him with a mild look of confusion. it's not uncommon for baku to freak like this but literally what is there to—oh. you're still gripping hyuntak by the collar of his hoodie, and the two of you are still leaned towards each other.

to any normal passerby, it looks like you guys were about 0.5 milliseconds away from making out in the library. you quickly let go and shove hyuntak far away from you, creating a bit of distance and making hyuntak fall to the ground.

the damage is already done, though.

baku sputters, "you.. you and gogo!? i knew it, i fucking knew it! gogo you fucker, how long were you going to keep this a secret?"

hyuntak is still recovering from tumbling to the floor after you shoved him, clambering back to his seat. "what are you talking ab-"

"wow.. it's fine gogo, i'll go give you guys some. room," baku speeds out of the library, and you could've sworn he winked at you before leaving. you blink hard once, twice, and then sigh. putting your head in your hands, you start complaining to hyuntak.

"he thinks we're dating. he's going to tell everyone, gotak."

"just let them."

you freeze and look up slowly, an exasperated expression on your face.

"you really want to fake date to our friends? we're not in a fanfic."

hyuntak grins, "it'd be funny, no?"

your heart flutters at the idea of dating (albeit fake) hyuntak, and you can't find it in yourself to say no.

"what the hell, sure," you roll your eyes as you start to pack up your materials, missing the way hyuntak's face lights up at your words.

walking side by side, you and hyuntak make it outside to see baku, juntae, and sieun waiting for you two (more for hyuntak, but you tag along anyways). baku is talking almost animatedly, and juntae is following along nodding to his words. sieun is.. sieun—he's just there.

"look! there they are," baku shouts "how could we have missed it the whole time?"

juntae gasps with his eyes wide with surprise, "oh! i see it now!"

you scoff and walk towards juntae's side and baku immediately wraps his arms around hyuntak's shoulders. the five of you start walking towards your houses.

"how long has it been going on for?" juntae asks, "and how did it happen?"

baku pipes up from your left, "my sweet, sweet juntae, you don't ask a new and fresh couple that. give it time to marinate, let the relationship soak in a few weeks," he starts making odd motions with his hands, to which you grimace and turn away, making eye contact with sieun.

sieun's eyes stare into your soul, all-seeing and all-knowing.. you shudder and turn away, slightly scared of him. he reminds you of an owl, just constantly peering at you unblinking.

"s-sorry reader and hyuntak!" juntae stammers, embarrassed.

"don't let this dumbass baku get to your brain, it's fine." hyuntak reassures juntae. throughout the whole time, hyuntak was awfully silent. this was out of character for him and you wondered why.

spotting your street around the corner, you head home after saying your bye's to everyone. as you got home and freshened up, you began texting hyuntak.

you: wtf are we supposed to do now

hyuntak: i'm gonna be the best fake boyfriend ever, just watch

you: i don't think theres much of a competition in that field..

hyuntak: what the hell does that mean

you: how many people are fake dating each other dumbo

hyuntak: errr

hyuntak: still, lets make it believable! we got this

you: sure.. whatever you want ig

hyuntak: i don't like your tone

you: im Sooo sorry. yes i am so excited to make our fake dating thing very believable.....

hyuntak: yay :)

you: anyways goodnight, go get some beauty sleep. god knows you need it

hyuntak: shut up

hyuntak: goodnight, reader❤️

you stare at hyuntak's last message for far longer than you'd like to admit before going to sleep.

waking up groggily, you mentally prepare yourself for whatever hyuntak has planned. knowing him, you'll be dragged right into it.

opening the door to your classroom, you lock eyes with your friends swarming your desk immediately. you feel their gaze burning into you as you slowly approached your desk, only to see a strawberry milk carton with a note attached to it.

for you - gogo ♡

you blinked as you processed what the note read, and sat down before grabbing it and stuffing it into your pocket.

"we all saw it," donghyuck says blandly. "no point in hiding it now."

closing your eyes, you mentally cursed hyuntak as you thought of an excuse to make. you took in a deep breath—it was too early in the morning for this.

"earth to reader? you gonna explain yourself or..." beomgyu taps on your desk with his knuckles, making you open your eyes.

"well.. you see—" the sound of the door opening cut you off as your homeroom teacher stepped in, and you smiled as your friends scattered off to go back to their seats. saved by the bell, you laugh to yourself.

by the time lunch rolls around, you dart off to find hyuntak and avoid your friends' pestering. spotting him at the lunch tables, you push baku over slightly and start to whisper in his hyuntak's ear.

"we need to talk, follow me."

unfortunately nothing can be kept under wraps with baku around. he starts cackling like a madman, "poor gotakie is getting scolded right now!"

you shut him up with a glare, and pull hyuntak to a secluded part of the school.

"if we're gonna.. do this, shouldn't we like," you pause as you glance up, meeting hyuntak's gaze. you cough and look away, turning slightly pink as you continue. "shouldn't we lay some ground rules so we can keep up a fake backstory?"

hyuntak nods, "i was thinking we should just say we started dating a week ago, which is why we never told anyone."

that sounds believable, you think to yourself. "if anyone asks, you confessed to me while we were studying, okay?" it was hyuntak's idea, so he should be the one to 'confess' first.

agreeing on other ideas, the bell rings and you guys leave for class. you looked back at hyuntak once, but you missed how hyuntak had looked back twice.

you manage to evade most of the questions thrown your way throughout the rest of the day. curse baku and his loud mouth, practically all of eunjang knew at this point. your phone buzzed when school ended, and it was a text from hyuntak.

hyuntak: let's go on a fake date today :) wanna get some tteokbokki?

you: sure, see you at the school gates

fake this, fake that, wasn't this pushing it a little too hard? any more and you might start believing hyuntak actually likes you. (please, something in you hopes. maybe it wouldn't be so bad if he actually did)

fin

a/n my tumblr crashed halfway through writing this and i lost most of the story bc i forgot to hit save. i'm so sorry for the long wait 💔 remember to save your drafts guys (μ_μ) alsooo small cameos as your friends hehe :3

will definitelt do a part 2 when i have the time but i just wanted to get this out because its been rotting away in my drafts 😔

[secretlysamcro]

Part 1 | Part 2

Female reader x Jax Teller SPOILERS, explicit language, talk of DV, & lil bit of angst/emotions & of course, smut. If you're under the age of 18, dislike any of said topics or have not finished the show, then please read no further. Please remember, anything written between the barbed wire is a memory!

"What happened after I left?" Opie's voice cracks through the quiet. He’s leant up against the railings in the lot, arms crossed with a heavy gaze set on his best friend.

Jax doesn’t look at him right away. Just breathes out slow, cigarette burning down between his fingers. "I told her"

Opie straightens up "Told her what?"

Jax's jaw moves. His eyes are somewhere off in the distance, like he's back in that moment. "Everything" he pauses, dragging again from his smoke. "Why I stayed with Wendy. Why I pushed her away. Apologised for a lot of shit I didn't handle right. Told her all that"

Opie raises his brows, surprise flickering across his face "All these years later, you finally let it out, huh?"

Jax chuckles, but its dry. "Yeah. And she told me some shit too...shit I never even knew…" He shifts his weight, glancing over at Opie, his eyes narrowing just a touch, like he already knows the answer but needs to hear it anyway. "…but you knew, didn't you?"

Opie meets his look but doesn't flinch "Yeah…I knew"

Jax doesn't bite, doesn't get pissed, just shakes his head with a tired smile "You coulda told me brother. Coulda saved a lotta pain"

"Could've..." Opie agrees "But it wasn't mine to tell. I was holdin' both your secrets. Couldn't betray either one of you. Figured when the time was right...shit would figure itself out"

Jax nods slowly, like he respects it, even if it does sting. "Kissed her too" the confession comes out fast, grabbing Opie's attention, his head whipping round to Jax.

"Fuckin' hell Jax" a short laugh comes out "How'd that go down?"

Jax breathes out hard through his nose "She kissed me back...then we spoke about us, about all that time in between" he wipes at his nose with the back of his hand "told me about some pink diary you found when we were kids"

Opie barks out a laugh at the memory. "Shit... I forgot about that. Had your name written across every page. Hearts n’ sparkles and all that shit. Confessin' her love on every damn page"

Jax grins, breaking into a laugh. "Said she threatened to beat your ass if you ever told me"

Opie nods, somewhat embarrassed for his 13 year old self "She wasn't bluffin either. Had me pinned to the wall and shit" They both laugh but its short lived, the silence heavier.

"After that, I just...tucked her in, kissed her forehead and let her sleep. She's been through hell Ope, she's not there yet. Not fully"

Opie looks at him, understanding in his expression "She will be" he uncrosses his arms, stepping away from the railing "Anything been said since?" Jax shakes his head, as clueless as Ope is, "Nah...nothing. I dont wanna push her, and I guess she feels the same...its still...fresh, ya know?"

Jax pulls up outside his house, noticing Gemma's car parked out front. He laughs to himself, she'd been here more than ever now that you were back in town, staying with him. She loved you. Always has, always will. In some ways, she looks at you as the daughter she never had, especially back in the day when you were constantly around.

He walks through the kitchen door seeing Abel sat at the table next to you, excitedly showing off one of his new toys. Gemma, leaning against the counter, coffee cup in hand. He begins making his rounds, a kiss to his moms cheek, then one to Abel's head. He hesitates the slightest when he reaches you, but still he places one to your head too.

Since that first kiss and the unload of confessions, neither of you had really talked about it. It's been a week since that night. Since you, Jax, Opie and Happy collectively put an end to the chaos that had once haunted your life. Jax had insisted you stay with him while you figure out your next steps, and you hadn't argued with that. How could you? Jax has always made you feel safe.

"What is this, show and tell?" Jax teases, ruffling Abel's hair.

"y/n wanted...wanted to see" Abel chimes in, his face lighting up. Gemma chuckles over the rim of her coffee mug.

"I did indeed" you respond, smiling warmly at Abel, your eyes crinkling with genuine joy.

Since that night at St. Thomas, dragging Wendy's OD'ing ass through the sliding doors alongside Jax, this was the first real time you'd met Abel. And even though it's only been a week, the kid had already latched onto you like he'd known you his whole life. You sat at the table, letting him chatter on, showing you some beat up toy truck like it was the coolest thing in the world. You laughed, genuine and easy, letting him climb halfway into your lap to tell you all about it. Across the room, Jax leans against the counter, arms folded across his kutte. Gemma stands next to him, mug in hand, both of them watching, silent. The same thought probably running through both their minds. Jax broke the quite first with that dry voice. "You hear from my crazy ex wife at all?" Gemma takes a sip of her coffee, shaking her head. "Not directly, no. Word is she's still tucked away in that rehab joint. Might actually be takin' it serious this time" Jax scoffs, low and bitter. "Good for her, but she ain't comin' near Abel. I don't give a fuck how sober she gets" Gemma doesn't argue, just gives a little hum in agreement, setting her mug in the sink before crossing the room to Abel "Come on, sweetheart. Lets go see Uncle Unser" "Uncle Unser?" Jax mimics, laughing at the nickname. Abel hesitates, looking up at you with big eyes "But...but I wanna stay with y/n" Gemma crouches down beside him, smoothing a hand over his messy hair. "She'll be here when you get back baby, come on" She shoots you a knowing look, before taking his hand and guiding him towards the door.

Jax ruffles his sons hair again on the way out "Later buddy...be good for Grandma...and uncle Unser" he laughs as the last words leave his mouth, Gemma punching him jokingly as she leaves.

Jax stays leaning for a second, his eyes on the door like he was still in that moment. Then he pushes off, walking over to you and dropping into the seat across from you. No words right away, just that look. The kind that says everything he didn't know how to say yet.

He leans back in the chair, his thumb rubbing absently against the wooden table. For a long second, he doesn't say shit. Just watches you with that familiar expression he wears so well.

Then finally, his voice sounding almost curious. "You holdin' up alright?"

You shift in your seat, picking at the frayed edge of your shirt. The memories crashing into you all at once. The motel, the screaming, the sharp crack of the lamp, the blood. You hadn't talked about the relief when Jax and Opie kicked in that door, or the quiet knowledge that Jax and Happy had finished what you started. And then, Jax's mouth on yours like it was the only way he knew how to keep you grounded.

You clear your throat, forcing yourself to meet his eyes. "I'm gettin' there"

He pauses, long enough for the words to settle. "I’ll never let anyone ever touch you like that again...you know that right?" The ferocity in his voice leaving no doubt in your mind that he meant every word. But the unspoken hangs heavier, because the part neither of you were mentioning still sat between you, glaring, waiting to be acknowledged.

Finally you break the silence, softer this time "And the other thing?"

Jax lifts his head, something unguarded flicking over his expression. He slips a hand over his face, like it might wipe away everything he's feeling. "You talkin' about the over due confessions...or the kiss?"

You nod, slow and steady, your chest tightening with each inhale. "Both" you say with a quite laugh, trying to ease the tension.

He makes a sound, a mixture between a groan and a sigh as he rubs at his stubble like he's trying to stall. "Look...it happened" His voice is low and gravelly. "But we aint gotta dig into it right now. I know your heads still all over the place. And this...whatever the fuck this is...I aint tryna complicate shit for you y/n" He shifts uncomfortably, frustration seeping through the cracks.

"Fuck...I dont know what im sayin" Jax was always different with you. Never reckless, never cold, for the most part. Just careful in a way most people never got to see.

You reach over, laying your hand over his, soothing him like you always have, even without meaning to "whatever this is Jax...I want it. I just...gotta get my head right first. Figure out where the fuck I'm standing"

He nods, no words leaving his mouth. Then, he places his other hand over yours, holding it like something solid within the chaos. His voice is rough when he finally speaks. "Figure your shit out darlin', but I ain't goin' anywhere, however this works out, I'm here"

You nod in quiet understanding, comforted by the lack of pressure. He's not asking you to say more than what you want to, not pushing you for answers or feelings that you're not ready to lay bare. It's just easy. Like it used to be.

Pushing away from the table, you gather the empty plates and cup left behind by Abel, walking them over to the sink. The water runs warm over your hands as you rinse, lost in the rhythm of it. You don't hear him move, but you feel him.

He leans against the counter beside you, arms braced back on either side like he's still holding the weight of the conversation. "There's somethin' else I wanna ask you"

You glance up at him, rolling your eyes with a smirk that doesn't quite reach the eyes. "Here we go..."

He grins, catching your look, bumping your hip lightly with his own. "Relax. It ain't anythin’ deep darlin" he laughs, crossing his hands over his kutte. "Moms had this fundraiser planned for months..." he's watching you, but not pressing too hard "...she wants you to come. Shit everyone does. But I get it if you're not up for that yet. Lotta faces. New, old..." He shrugs, looking down for a moment, like hes not sure how to word it without sounding needy. "...If you'd rather stay here, chill out...I won’t hold it against you"

You laugh a little under your breath, the sound laced with memories "I'll come" you say after a moment, drying your hands on your thighs "Haven't stepped foot in that clubhouse in years...plus I still need to meet Lyla, see if she's actually good for Ope" you say slightly teasing, but your smile fades. Just enough for Jax to notice.

"What?" Jax asks, his tone calm but suspicion evident.

You blink, caught off guard "What?"

"That look..." he says, tilting his head "what's goin' on in that head of yours?"

You hesitate, chewing your bottom lip for a second before the words finally slip out. "I just...Donna. The funeral. Me not coming" you exhale hard through your nose, eyes dropping to your feet "you think he hates me for that?"

He doesn’t answer right away.

“I should’ve been there” you continue, your voice smaller now. “I wanted to be. I just…He wouldn’t…”

The air between you both was still. Heavy.

His mind drifts back to Donna’s funeral. You weren’t there. But Tara was. She stood beside him that day, handing him his pride to place back over his shoulders. Her hand tucked into his like she belonged there. A picture you’re not yet privy to. A part of the story he has yet to tell you.

You’d witness Tara break Jax’s heart before. The time she left for Chicago, and on your last visit to Charming, she was back again, like nothing had happened. Dressed in scrubs, hair tied back working Wendy and Abel’s case. What you didn’t know though, is that night, when you left without a goodbye, Tara was the one who stayed.

It was her who helped Jax pick up the pieces in the weeks that followed. Her who sat through the night feeds, who whispered calm into the chaos while Abel fought to heal. She showed up when you didn’t…or couldn’t. Like some twisted mirror of the past. You stepping out, Tara stepping in. The roles had reversed again.

Jax shakes his head slowly, his jaw working as he chews over his words. “Back then, yeah…he probably didn’t understand it. We were all pissed and broken. Tryna keep our shit together and failing at it”

You look up at him, seeing how his face flickers between honesty and restraint.

“But now?…” he adds, his voice a little less harsh “Now he gets it. He knows why you never showed, even if it did hurt him at the time”

You nod, the guilt still weighing heavy in your chest. You didn’t no show to be a bitch. You didn’t go because your asshole of an ex had started the controlling behaviour, manipulating you in ways you couldn’t even see.

“It’s in the past, darlin”

You swallow hard, letting the silence stretch a little longer before asking what you’ve wanted to for years. “Still haven’t got a straight answer from either of you…” you murmur “…about Donna’s death”

That made him freeze, the inside of his cheek bulging where his tongue moves along it idly “drive-by gone wrong” he mutters “you already knew that y/n” he shifts his weights and you catch it.

“Yeah, that’s what I was told. Doesn’t mean it’s the truth” you raise an eyebrow.

Jax doesn’t say anything, just stares at you. A look you knew too well. One that he gave right before he started lying through his teeth or shutting down completely. He held your gaze, unflinching until he looks away first.

“You gonna help Mom with the fundraiser chilli?” He asks, his voice almost teasing “like old times?”

And there it was. The shift. That thing he always did. When the air got too heavy or the questions too close. He redirected. Changed lanes. Diverted you into nostalgia like it was the safest option. You saw it happening from a mile off, but you let him have it.

You smile, “yeah” the corners of your mouth lifting “I’d like that”

You stood beside your car, your hand twisting your keys between your fingers like you were trying to distract yourself. Everything was packed. Suitcases shoved in the trunk, bags loaded in the back seat. Every piece of your life that mattered crammed into your car. Everything else... you were leaving behind.

The clubhouse was your last stop. Final goodbyes. Closure, or some weak version of it. It was a Friday night, so you knew the place would be full, just enough noise and bodies to hide behind. You hadn't seen Jax or Opie since the night they found out you were leaving. The fallout was minor but it lingered in the air like smoke.

You stepped inside.

Pool balls clinked somewhere in the back, old rock hummed through the speakers. Just another night at the SAMCRO clubhouse.

"Come here sweetheart" Gemma's voice cut through the air like it always did. Soft but edged with iron. She wrapped her arms around you before you could even respond, holding you by your lower arms, looking you over like a mother trying to read the truth through your eyes.

"You certain about this?" She asked, voice low, like she already knew the real answer.

You forced a smile, swallowing down everything that wasn't a yes "I'm sure"

Her grip on your arms tightened. Her eyes not softening one bit. "You're gonna be missed round here. You know that right?"

"I know"

She leaned in a little closer. "You make sure that man treats you right. You hear me?" her tone dropped, and then she glanced over her shoulder, just once, towards the far back table.

"Cause if he doesn't...It wont just be me on his ass"

You follow her gaze. And there they were.

Tucked in the back corner, the table that once felt like home. Jax sat next to Wendy, Ope sat across from them, Donna curled into his side, their kids half asleep but still buzzing, refusing to shut their eyes while the grownups talked.

"Look who finally came to say goodbye" Opie muttered, nudging Jax with his elbow, his tone light, but not without a little edge. Jax didn't answer at first, but his eyes caught yours.

"She's really leavin'?" Donna asked, her eyes drifting towards you, brows drawn together.

Donna was never part of the trio back in the day, not until Opie grew up enough to realise she was everything he needed. You'd been wary of her at first. Not jealous of her, just unsure how she'd fit in. But over time? she did. Until things started changing. Until she got pregnant, and Opie stopped coming around as much. Until you started spending more time alone with Jax. Time that never quite felt innocent.

You gently pull yourself away from the conversation with Gemma, pressing a grateful kiss to her cheek, thanking her for everything she'd done for you over the years. She doesn't respond right away, just gives you that familiar look. The one she’s given you since you were a kid, showing more care in one glance than most people could manage with words.

Gemma's been more of a mother to you than your own ever was. Your real Mom barely noticed when you were around, let alone when you weren't. But Gemma? The time spent at her house, at the table with her and her boys... that was home. A real home. Somehow always finding room for you in the mess of her world.

You took a breath slightly deeper than usual, mentally preparing for the possibly storm ahead.

“Hey” your voice is quite, just about heard over the hum of music and conversation.

You step to the edge of the table, leaning closer to Opie and Donna's side of it. Donna immediately gets up and pulls you into a hug, arms tight around your shoulders. "God, y/n I'm really gonna miss you" she says, her voice wavering with emotion. "We all are"

You smile faintly, pulling back just enough to see her face. "Its not like I'm never gonna see you again" you laugh playfully.

"I know...but still..." She laughs, brushing your arm affectionately "It wont be the same without you around."

You give her a short smile, then glance past her and kneel slightly at the table so you're eye level with the kids.

"You two..." you say, smiling mischievously toward Kenny and Ellie "Be good for your Mom, okay?" They nod giggling as you turn your head toward Opie "But keep being lil' shits for your Dad alright, don't make it too easy for him" Both of them bursting into laughter, even Opie cracks a smile.

"Alright, come on you two" Donna says through her own laughter, ushering the kids away, leaving just you, Opie, Jax and Wendy.

Opie offers a small nod your way, tapping his knuckles once on the table. "Glad you came by"

You smile towards him, "Would've felt wrong if I didn't"

Jax is sitting back in his seat, relaxed but still unmoved. He hasn't said anything, hasn't even looked at you properly since you walked over. He's got a toothpick in his mouth, twirling it between his fingers like it’s the only thing keeping him sane. Wendy hasn't moved either. She stays leaned in a little too comfortable against Jax, her legs crossed towards him, on edge like she's waiting for something to start.

"So..." you cleared your throat, trying to keep your voice steady, though your hands were already trembling. "...I just came over to say my goodbyes"

No one says anything at first, Opie just stands, towering over you like he always had, a solid presence that always felt like home.

"Come here" he says, pulling you into a hug without waiting. One of those hugs that wrap around every crack in you, like somehow he was trying to pass on his strength and safety through touch.

"You ever need anything...anything at all you call me" he murmurs into your hair "We're here for you alright? you got us...always". You nod against his chest, try to thank him but your voice is gone. The tears already started slipping down your cheeks, hot and slow, soaking into the fabric of his shirt.

Still wrapped in Opies warmth, you hear movement behind you. The scuff of a chair, a murmur of voices. You turn your head slightly, just enough to catch a glimpse of Jax rising from the table, Wendy beside him, her hand ghosting across his arm as she whispers something in his ear. Jax doesn't look your way, doesn't say anything. Just walks off with Wendy towards the dorm without so much as a glance back.

Your hearts drops, leaving a slow sinking feeling in your stomach. Heavy but numb. Opie pulls away slightly, eyes following yours towards the direction Jax had just left in.

You force out a laugh, but theres no humour in it, just ache. "Guess he doesn't wanna know me anymore"

Ope sighs, resting a hand on your shoulder "Nah. He's just...stuck. Caught up in his own shit. Doesn't mean he doesnt care"

You roll your eyes, wiping at your cheeks with the back of your hand. "You always do that"

"Do what?"

"Make excuses for him" you say, turning again to meet Opies eyes. "We've been through everything together, thought he'd atleast say bye, whether he's pissed at me still or not"

He looks at you with that quiet sadness in his eyes, like he wishes he could fix things for you, but he knows he cant. "He's not good at this part" he says finally "Never has been"

You shrug, trying to swallow the lump in your throat "Yeah, well...thought I meant more than that"

Opie gives your shoulder a squeeze, and places a goodbye kiss to your forehead "You do" But it doesn't feel like it. Not tonight.

You move away from Opie, wiping your face again before anyone else can catch the tears still clinging to your lashes. You make your way around the room, weaving through laughter, music and the haze of smoke that always fogged the clubhouse. Your next stop is Clay. He was never warm with you. Not like John was. But once Gemma’s house became his, he still let you in, fed you, let you crash whenever and back then, that counted for more than you’d like to admit.

“Take care of yourself” he mutters, giving you a raise of his beer.

Next, is Piney. Puffing on a cigar as his oxygen tank hissed faintly beside him. He was always harder to crack, but you knew he watched over you in his own quiet way. Just like he did with Opie. With anyone he considered family.

Then, Chibs and Tig. Posted up near the bar. Tig deep in some half drunk debate about why dogs are better than humans. You talk a little and listen to their drunken wise words of wisdom about the big world beyond Charming.

“Good luck out there lass. Not too much trouble, yeah?” Chibs pulls you into a side hug, pressing a kiss to your temple.

Tig grabbing your hand dramatically to his chest “Don’t miss me too much” he laughs before kissing your hand.

You look around the room for a moment, taking in the faces, the sounds, the weight of years in every corner. This place, this life…letting it all go hurts more than you thought it would. As a teen, you resented all of this. The Kuttes, the calls, the runs. When Jax and Opie prospected, it was like losing them. Like the club had taken them away and given them new priorities, different rules to live by. You’d been left on your own again. But then they got patched. Fully integrated within the club, not just hanging on to the edges anymore. They were the club. And you watched them rise, watched them stop taking orders and start carving their own path. But now? You were walking out of it. Out of the clubhouse. Out of Charming. And away from them.

You hadn’t intended to chase after him. You’d made peace with leaving it as it was. But when you saw Wendy leaving the dorm, that stupid fucking smirk on her face, something in you snapped.

Maybe it was pride. Maybe it was closure. Maybe it was the years between you that deserved something more than silence. You pushed open the dorm door without knocking. He looked up from where he was sat on the edge of the bed, hoodie half zipped, elbows resting on his knees like he’d been stuck in that exact position since Wendy left the room. His eyes met yours, startled slightly but not surprised.

“Ope said you're going through some shit right now, but that doesn't mean you should fucking ignore me Jax..."

Jax exhales, sitting up straighter “y/n…”

"You couldn't even talk to me at the table? not even a fucking goodbye?"

Jax stood slowly, not defensive yet...but close enough "I didn't know what to say"

"Bullshit" you seethe. "You've known me since we were six Jax. You've never shut up in all these years that I've known you... but tonight, the night I leave you suddenly go mute?"

"It's not like that"

"Then explain it!" you shouted, stepping towards him "Cause right now, it feels like you couldn't give a shit"

Jax stepped forward, the space between you shrinking. "Don't pull that shit y/n. You're the one leaving. You're the one walking out with that asshole no one can fucking stand!" he stops abruptly, he obviously had lots more to say.

You laugh bitterly "Go on, say what you really think"

"I think he's a controlling prick who doesn't deserve to breathe the same air as you" he snaps "and you're making a fucking mistake"

Your laugh is louder this time, more sharp "You've got a fucking nerve"

"What's that suppose to mean?" he says, his brows furrowed together in the middle of his face.

"Shes a fucking druggy!" you shout "Wendy doesn't give a shit about you. She loves the high more than she's ever loved a person, and you fucking know it!"

"People change" he says, so fucking casual.

"She wont" you hiss "You wanna be careful Jax, shes the kinda girl to trap you with a kid or something. Lock you in for life"

That did it. He didn't yell, didn't argue. He just stepped back, slowly like your words landed right in his chest. And that's when it hit you. Your stomach dropped, because his face gave it away before his words ever could.

"Wow" you laugh breathless, shaking your head as the weight of it sinks in "She’s…she’s already pregnant?"

He stands there, somewhat deflated. Eyes unable to meet yours "Wasn't planned" he says eventually.

"How long have you known?" you ask, your tone sharper now, like you already know you're not gonna like the answer.

"A few weeks..."

"A few weeks" you repeat, your heart rising into your throat "So all this time you've been pissy at me for not telling you about leaving...and you've been sitting on this?"

He starts pacing, clearly uncomfortable "I didn't know how to tell you, I..."

"Does Opie know?" you interupt, arms now folded tightly across your chest.

He sighs "Yeah"

You let out a bitter little laugh. "Course he does"

Theres a silence between you both, long enough to hear your own breathing until he finally speaks up, his voice softer now "This really what you want?" he asks "To leave Charming to be with...him?"

You look away for a second, the truth almost slipping off your tongue, nearly breaking free. But now you know Wendy's pregnant, what's the fucking point? You laugh softly, but there's no humour involved "I could ask you the same thing"

He rolls his eyes at your tone, his jaw clenching in frustration. You don't give him the chance to respond "Yes." you say, the lie rolling off your tongue "Its what I want" you lie again.

Jax nods slowly, trying to make sense of everything he's feeling, trying to hold it all down. "Okay" he says simply

"Okay" you echo back.

You take a step closer, your hand reaching out, fingers resting gently on his arm. "You'll be a good Dad, Jax" you say with a smile that hurts. He looks at you like he wants to say something, but instead he just pulls you into a hug that nearly folds you. He holds you like he's afraid to let go, his arms wrapped tightly around you.

"Take care of yourself darlin" he whispers, his voice still rough around the edges. That's his apology, his goodbye.

"Yeah..." you whisper back, your breath catching in your throat "You too”

The rooftop was quieter than you remembered. No piney shouting up from the lot below after catching you with one of his cigars again, no Clay pacing and yelling for Opie and Jax when they were supposed to be doing whatever stupid prospect duty they had been assigned. Even the wind felt softer up here, moving slow past your ears.

You made your way up here not long after Gemma had loaded Abel into her car, muttering something about giving the grown ups a chance to be reckless again. She winked at you before she left, like maybe she knew damn well you needed it. And maybe she was right. After the shit you’ve had going on, after everything with your ex, after everything you survived, you deserved a night of recklessness.

You’d spent most of the afternoon helping Gemma at the chilli stand, just like you did when you were sixteen and trying to prove you had what it took to be an old lady. Bossing the prospects around, elbowing Tig when he tried to steal just a little bit. Flicking napkins at Opie when he teased you every time he walked past. Lyla had been kind and sweet, you felt yourself warm to her faster than expected, especially once you saw how Opie looked at her.

You’d apologised to Opie for not being there at Donna’s funeral, finally said the words that had been weighing in your chest for a while. Told him the truth, how your ex wouldn’t let you come, how he used his control like a weapon and by the time you realised how far gone it all was, you felt like you didn’t have a choice. The apology was small, but honest. No drama, just raw, simple truth between two people who’d been through too much.

“You’re here now” he said, pulling you into a hug.

The first few hits of the joint sank deep into your chest, loosening whatever tension was left in your shoulders, mixing with the effects of the whisky you just downed not long ago. You lean your head back against the brick wall behind you, eyelids heavy, lips parted as you watch the smoke disappear into the sky.

And then you hear them, the footsteps of someone making their way up to the roof. You didn’t even have to look.

“Didn’t think you’d come up” you say low, already passing the joint to the empty space next to you.

His hairs a little messy, in that awkward growing it out stage, his eyes glassy from the drink. He doesn’t say anything, just took the joint from your fingers, sinking down into his usual spot.

For a while, neither of you spoke, until your voice cuts through the silence. “I cried you know”

Jax doesn’t say anything, but you feel the way his body stills. Waiting for you to continue.

“The night I left. From the clubhouse to his place. I cried the whole way…” you weren’t even sure why you were telling him now “…I couldn’t breathe. My hands were shaking on the wheel, felt like I was driving away from something I hadn’t figured out yet”

And still, he said nothing. Just let you speak, the way he always had when he knew it mattered.

“I kept thinking…why am I leaving? Why am I running towards someone I don’t fully trust?” You laugh under your breath “then I realised what I was running away from too”

He turns to look at you now, forgetting about the joint burning away.

“You told me Wendy was pregnant, and it was like something inside of me just…collapsed. I didn’t know why. I had no reason to be hurt. You and I weren’t…We never even…” you stopped yourself.

“I know” he nods once.

“It’s my fault” he says softly, like he didn’t mean to say it loud.

“What is?” You turn to him slowly

He drags a hand down his face “That you ended up with him. That whole mess. It’s on me” he looks at you deeply, his eyes flickering over you features “If I’d just been straight with you from the start…if I’d just said something that night, maybe you wouldn’t have gone runnin’ to someone else. Wouldn’t have gotten stuck with someone like him”

“Jax…”

“You left and I just let you go. I didn’t stop you. Sat there like a fuckin’ idiot and told you Wendy was pregnant while you were halfway out the door, like that wasn’t the worst possible moment”

“I left first…” you sigh “…I thought it would hurt less if I left first. Told myself it was time…needed a new start, something stable, someone outside of this life. I was scared of feeling too much Jax, being second to everything you already had going on. Tara, then Wendy…I was scared that if I stayed, I’d spend the rest of my life pretending you weren’t the only person I wanted to be with”

He was listening, deep in thought but still not speaking, still giving you your time.

“It didn’t hurt less” you laugh “Think it hurt worse. Every day I was with him, I kept thinking about how easy it used to be with you. How safe I felt. Even when shit was messy, club chaos or whatever, you were always there” your eyes are glistening now, not from the high, but the tears threatening to spill.

"Its not your fault Jax" you say quietly, your eyes strictly on him. "Don't carry that like it is. You aint the only one who stayed quiet. I didn't say anything either"

He looks at you but says nothing, but you can tell the words land where they need to.

"And about that night...at the hospital...I'm sorry"

He lifts his chin, taking in what you're saying. With everything that has happened since you've come back to Charming, you still haven't given him a reason why you left so suddenly.

"I shoulda waited. Shoulda said goodbye properly. But standing next to Gem and Clay, seeing you holding Abel like that...so small and so fucking...fragile I...my head was fucked Jax. I wanted to tear Wendy apart. I always knew she would...." you stop yourself, now still isnt the time. "...plus, he didn't even know I was in Charming, I needed to get home before he noticed or he..." You trail off, your voice portraying the unforgotten ache. "I fucked up, I know. I Shouldn't have left you alone with all that shit Jax"

He shakes his head, and lets out a deflated laugh. But its not amused, its more sad "I wasn't alone, y/n"

Your brows crease together, the expression asking the question for you.

"Tara" he says bluntly, eyes now fixed on the lot below, the memory of how easily she slotted back into his life after everything she had already done to him, clear in his mind. "After you left...she stuck around. She knew I was breaking, knew I'd take help from anywhere...anyone"

You process the words slowly, the pieces falling into place "You and her...?" you ask gently, trying to sound neutral, but there's a tiny thread of disappointment in your tone.

He nods "For a bit. I still loved her...or thought I did...I don't know" he pauses, his jaw stiffening "She had this ex from Chicago. Obsessive type. Scared she couldn't shake him and she knew if she came to me with it...I'd handle it" he doesn't look at you, but you don't need him to.

"Handle it" you say back to him, saying the words out loud making the meaning much more obvious.

He turns his head finally, eyes meeting yours. And in that look, you know. You know what he did.

"So i'm not the only woman you'd kill for?" You nudge him with your shoulder, easing the tension just a small amount, he cracks a stiff smile.

"I don't regret what we did for you" he says, his tone confident, unwavering. "Not for a fuckin' second. But her? She played me...knew how to get through the cracks, I just didn't see it till it already happened"

"She still around?"

He shrugs "In and out of St Thomas, haven't seen her for a while though...haven't wanted to"

You want to be mad for him, to rip both Tara and Wendy apart with words, and hands. But instead you just lean your head slightly against his shoulder.

"I'm sorry for everything" you whisper.

"I'm sorry you felt like you had to leave" he breathes the words back.

And that's it. Thats all that needed to be said. You both sit there, quiet now, staring out at Charming like you used to. It's not the same, nothing ever is. But for a few minutes, sitting head to shoulder again?

It feels close enough.

Hours pass, the fundraiser burning itself out into the kind of night samcro always end up with. One too many bottles passed around, someone half naked on the pool table, Tig getting head in the corner like its a performance. Chibs is blackout drunk laughing at his own joke as Juice sings along to a song no one even remembers putting on. There’s smoke in the air, sweat on the walls and the sound of someone throwing up behind the garage.

Somewhere between that last rooftop silence and now, you and Jax both had more whiskey in your system, more heat in your blood, your laughter louder and limbs heavier. The kind of drunk that made you feel warm and reckless, like you could say anything, do anything. You both peel away from the noise and drift towards the dorm, just like old times. Except when that door closes behind you?

Everything was different. It started off with that look.

That slow, heavy Jax Teller look. The one that always came with a slight tilt of the chin, that 'I've already fucked you a thousand times in my head' look. Eyes low, and his voice rough but smooth at the same fucking time.

"You know..." his eyes dragging down your body, lingering where your dress hugged tightly at your hips "I used to jerk off thinkin' about you in shit like this" No smile, no shame just quiet truth. The whiskey clearly catching up to him, making the truth easier to confess.

That hit hard. Not because you've never wondered if he thought of you like that, but because he finally fucking said it. You swallow hard, heat prickling across your chest, and for a second you almost let the silence hang.

But then, you stumble forward, letting it slip. "I used to think about you when he fucked me"

His mouth parts, but he says nothing.

"Every single time" you continue, eyes darting over his expression "I'd close my eyes...pretend it was your hands, your voice..."

His nostrils flare, and you catch the way his jaw ticks at your confession "You sayin' that to piss me off?" the crease in the middle of his brow returns, as he takes another step towards you, real fucking close now.

"No. I'm saying it cause its true"

And that was all it took. It wasn't rushed, but it wasn't slow either. It was drunk, desperate and years overdue.

The back of your knees hit the edge of the bed, and you don’t hesitate. You let him press you down, let him crash over you like a wave that had been building since you were fifteen. His mouth found yours fast, sloppy, rough and hot with the taste of whiskey and want. His hands were everywhere. Under your dress, up your thighs, while your fingers yanked against his belt like it was the only thing between you and everything you both needed. You were a mess already, breathless, laughing into his mouth as his teeth caught your bottom lip and he groaned against you, a sound you were new to but already couldn't get enough of. You didn't know where to start, and neither did he.

You panted, still grinning as you work to undo his belt buckle, you were laughing, frustrated and breathless fighting with the damn thing.

Jax smirks, barely lifting his head from where he was sucking at your neck "need help?"

"No...I got it" you tug harder, making a strained noise, grunting completely giving up.

Jax chuckles leaning away from you "you're pullin' the wrong way"

"I know how a fucking belt works" you snap, laughing as he sits up just enough to do it himself

"There..." he says, finally popping it open with a flick of his wrist "...Jesus christ"

You've seen him naked before. Back in the day, drunk nights, long summers, dumb dares. It wasn't every day but it wasn't rare. Jax never gave a fuck. You'd walk in on him pissing behind the clubhouse, stripping off in the lot after a job, passed out bare assed on Opes bedroom floor more times than you could count.

But this? this wasn't the same.

Because now you were laid back on the dorm bed, dress hiked up around your hips, the fabric of your panties glistening with desire, your thighs open wide, Jax Teller nestled between them, shirtless, breath heavy and his belt finally unfucking done.

You feel the head of his cock slide through your folds, slow and teasing. Catching against your clit before slipping lower. He was soaked in you, you were already shaking and then, he pushes in.

Slow.

Just the tip at first, but it was already enough to knock the air from your lungs. Your whole body tenses, your back arching away from the bed as a gasp breaks free from your throat as the stretch hits you hard. Deep, full and perfect. He was thick, so fucking thick and he didn't stop. He kept going, inch by aching inch, burying himself inside you like he belonged there.

"F...fu..fuck" You choke out, head falling back against the flat as fuck pillows.

Jax groans, deep in his chest, One hand sinking into your hip, tight enough to leave marks, and the other placed on the matress just beside your ribs.

"Jesus fuckin' Christ y/n" he grits out, voice already wrecked "You always been this fuckin' tight?"

You let out another moan, fingernails scraping over his reaper.

The weight of him pressing down against you, feeling every inch of him, every breath, every shudder that rolled off his body and into yours. His dick buried deep, his hips grinding slow and heavy like he couldn't bring himself to stop, even if he wanted too. His hand found your neck, his thumb at your jaw, holding your head in place like he needed to keep you right there beneath him. Your hips roll, matching the drag of his cock like your body had memorised this rhythm in a dream. You tilt your hips just enough to catch him deeper, your waist moving in desperate waves meeting each thrust with one of your own. It was filthy and perfect, the way your bodies collided, the slaps of wet skin, the quiet, gasping moans pressing into each others mouths. You could feel him shaking above you, the way his muscles locked tight trying to keep from spilling too soon. Every time he sinks back in, you push up to meet him, grinding against him, slow and purposeful, letting him feel just how fucking badly you’ve wanted this.

Your thighs clamp tighter around his hips and your ankles lock just behind his lower back, keeping him close as he grunts into your neck, fucking you harder now, less rhythm but more need. You move with him, catch his vibe and fuck him right back. In the clubhouse, Opie was drunk too.

Not face down in the dirt drunk, just that slow heavy buzz that settled deep. Behind his eyes, in his chest, in the memories he hadn't thought about in years. The drunk that made you nostalgic, stupid and curious.

The lot was still loud, the party just about winding down but not done. Music still playing low, croweaters doing their job. But you and Jax? you'd dissapeared. He finished his beer and started wandering. He checks the rooftop first, your old hangout. Empty beer bottles, finished whiskey glasses and an ashtray with half smoked joints. Then the kitchen, the back office, even the damn garage for some reason. Still, nothing.

So now he was zig zagging his way towards the dorm, muttering under his breath, mostly to himself.

"Dumbasses probably passed out somewhere" he grumbles.

He didn't knock, cause why the hell would he?

The door creaks open on the old hinges, and there you both are. Right in front of him.

You. Naked, flat on your back with one leg now hooked over Jax's shoulder.

Jax. One of his hands wrapped around your throat, the other gripping your thigh as he rams straight into you like the rest of the world didn't exist. Your moans filling the room, loud, wet and desperate. Jax looking like a man fucking possessed.

He backs out slowly, carefully. Pulling the door shut with quiet movements of a man defusing a bomb. It clicked closed, and he stood there in the hallway, blinking like he'd just seen a ghost.

Then he laughs, low, rough and tired.

"Bout fuckin' time" he mutters to himself, before taking a seat back at the table, lighting a smoke and trying to burn the image of his childhood bestfriends fucking eachother.

💀 photos & gifs do not belong to me, just edited together (apart from the cute lil diary entry hehe) so credit to all original owners.

When I put out part 2 of this I was just shy of 300 followers, and today I fucking made 600 followers. Six hundred? Six hundred of you I don’t even know why or how. But I love you all, each and every single one of you. Thank you for all your likes, comments, reblogs, requests, questions & support honestly love u guys with ma whole heart.

I’ve been a lil slow I know, apologies writers block is a bitch! But I’m still here, writing (&struggling) behind the scenes lol. 🖤

JAX TELLER MASTERLIST

xoxo secretly samcro

[another-goblin]

There is a thing that makes Dr. Ratio fundamentally different from most other characters and puts him into a special little category that arguably also includes Black Swan (and maybe Sparkle to a lesser extent).

The thing is that they don't exist "inside" the story but rather "above" or "outside" of it. They appear wherever they want, and they just know things.

(And what a coincidence that both he and BS were shown to be some of the first people who woke up from Ena's dream. But it kind of looks like maybe they weren't affected by it at all, existing "outside" the story)

And while BS is a powerful and mysterious memokeeper, what's Mr. "Normal Mundane Person"'s excuse? (let's face it, it's probably "because the things we want to happen wouldn't have happened otherwise," and "just don't think about it," and "he's just smart and mysterious, deal with it.")

And for a guy literally called "Truth," he has an interesting relationship with truth and knowledge. Namely, he doesn't seem to seek it, probably because he seems to already inexplicably know everything there is to know, including but not limited to: Ruan Mei's bug, the fact that she "employed" us to deal with it, Duke Inferno's plans concerning Herta's station, the information about Ruan Mei's lost Phase Flame, knowledge of how to use it to teleport himself and others, the true nature of Something Unto Death, and so on (and TVTropes has a whole list of the things he seemingly predicted) .

He had his "Doctor's Advice" prepared in advance (and I don't think the plan they discussed and agreed on included Aventurine ending up inside a black hole, desperate and depressed so much that only an encouragement from a friend would save him from ending it all for good.)

Even when helping Screwllum with the Divergent Universe, he didn't actually seem interested in the results of the research. He just helped Screwllum with it a bit, gave him a new idea of how to approach this study, and then seemingly removed himself from the project completely.

What made me write this is that I finally started version 3.2 story. I've heard people saying that Anaxa is basically Ratio 2.0 (mixed with Aventurine). And I'm glad to say that it doesn't seem that bad, at least for now. There are definitely some puzzling surface-level similarities, but it made me realize one of their main differences. Anaxa operates inside of the constraints set by the story, alongside with all the others.

BTW this is why it would be very in character for Dr. Ratio if the Bug from version 3.0 weren't a bug. If he were to get involved, he absolutely would just stand there contemplating without any explanation of how he got there, and how does he even know about Amphoreus.

[bossuary]

There's no universe where I accept that Lucanis knows anything about seduction. Sorry.

He recognizes flirting. That's it.

No innuendos, no natural smiles, no mirroring of gestures. He simply doesn't have the range, darling. And how could he? When would he have spent un-structured, non-training time with his peer group in a social setting? What peers? What friends?

To develop comfort and ease with this sort of thing it can't be a single interaction, it has to be repeated, sustained. It has to be iterated upon. There's just...no fucking way Caterina (or anyone in her employ) let Lucanis wander around making friends outside the Crows, or pursuing any of the dumb shit that people naturally pursue to fulfill themselves and be a part of society.

The fledglings probably steal time away to rebel, to goof off and get in trouble. But not Lucanis. Not the First Talon's demon of a grandson. All the knowledge he has, his skills of observation, his contacts...that's work shit. He never went to school with someone who became an accountant or a bricklayer. Never traded silly stories about pets or vacations. His socialization was limited to whatever served the role Caterina assigned to him.

The only reason Lucanis developed 'cooking' as a hobby is because he has to eat anyway, and so does everyone else. You can't get beaten for learning how to feed yourself. His only other hobby is knives. Because he doesn't understand hobbies. He didn't 'train to be an assassin,' he was forced to be THE ASSASSIN. Like, the platonic ideal of an assassin. The wiki entry.

He makes it clear that his life did not allow for personal pursuits. He says it in a lot of ways, sometimes literally but often just in how he reacts to Rook and the others. There wasn't purpose in becoming interested in things just for the fun of it, for self-actualization. Without that, he lost out on the development of interpersonal skills most of us would take for granted.

A non-comprehensive list of things most people learned to do while Lucanis was sweating and starving and not crying out at the impact of Caterina's cane:

how to work with a diverse group of people

how to resolve conflict

how to process failure

how to identify needs and boundaries...and express them

how to engage in social conversation

how to daydream

how to play

how to love

Stuff you would pick up without even realizing it, from your friends and schoolmates, your co-workers...your parents. I don't want to make it seem like I think Lucanis' life was wall-to-wall shit. He is wealthy in a way that is beyond the reach of every companion (save Dorian) we've ever had, across all four DA games. He has a support system. His kindness, humor, and ability to make a place for himself at the Lighthouse post-Ossuary mark him as a man of unimaginable resiliency. So, he must have carved out some goodness in his life.

My point is that the good moments were the exception, and in my view, they wouldn't have given him a foundation on which to build any kind of meaningful experience in terms of desire, seduction, romance, and sex.

He reads a lot! That's helpful. And I credit Lucanis' training for likely giving him a sharp insight on body language and facial expressions. But knowing HOW to read doesn't mean you've understood WHAT you read. Romance novels aren't primers for physical relationships any more than sci-fi books are manuals for technology you just haven't encountered yet.

He's 36 and he's never been on vacation, gone ice-skating, raised a pet companion, or had a relationship. He doesn't know how to send flowers, dress provocatively, or plan a romantic weekend in the countryside. He KNOWS that he doesn't know how. The Lighthouse is full of people who have done these things, and more. Rook included.

HERE, in the pantry, Lucanis moves forward without a single piece of lived experience to guide him. The man who plans his every move six weeks advance, and has a knife for every occasion is absolutely flying blind. What he knows is that he wants Rook (a thing as deep as it is new) and Rook has been so clear about wanting him that even if this goes Wrong, Rook will make it okay, somehow. And I just can't reckon that any version of him as secretly suave and confident is preferable or more alluring than this one: the weird little guy who, deSpite all of the above factors, still fucking Goes For It.

That guy can get it.

[snailsgoingdowntown]

Reader at times (once in a blood moon) giving in to Dion’s affection due to how touch starved she is (not being able to be with friends and family you cherish and can hug freely does a number on you) and maybe even pent up JUST A THOUGHT!

I’m just looking for any excuse for him to be given attention

Also, I did in fact make a tumblr account solely due to the AO3 fic…. It’s TEW good

Minors/blank blogs, etc, etc. Dni.

Yan! Dion x fem! Reader

WARNINGS: slight toxic themes, slight yandere themes, toxic marriage, toxic marriage/relationship, arranged marriage, implied murder (Dion), POSSIBLE implied depression. OOC Dion <3 (lore reasons I promise).

Suggestive.

= = =

I'd like to think it'd start off small - purposely grazing your fingers against his/doesnt pull your hand back immediately when he does it as you pass by each other/you're just happened to be sitting next to each other. They're cold, rough and calloused. Thick and long. They're just... Him.

It's foreign.

When you're especially touch starved (depending on how far you're into the marriage), you'll wipe off any blood that's on his cheek with your sleeve, almost used to it. Takes out the leaves and brushes off the dirt in his some fucking how soft hair - seriously, was everyone in this family blessed by Gods of beauty or something? Even when they're dirty they look like super models.

HOWEVER, the smell, on the other hand... Blood and musk don't mix well. Or the smell of outside. But hey, at least he doesn't stink as bad as Jeremy whenever the younger brother comes back from missions. Or that one sibling who was sent into the most dangerous part of the forest for two days, covered in scars and slime and drenched in blood, stingers and teeth from wild monsters in his injured hands. Bro smelled like literal death and was shaken up for the following few days.

On those days, you'll become more lenient with how much he touches you once he takes a bath. Blood is no longer there. The metallic smell is gone. Your husband almost looks like a normal man. Nice and clean.

A hand on the small of your back, you allow him to escort you away from the crowed areas at assemblies and balls and into quiet stairways barely anyone uses. You don't avoid it. You don't shake him off. His hands are cold but his body is warm.

He only does it when eyes are off of of you. When Lante isn't around.

It feels... Nice.

.... You must be going crazy.

Sometimes you'll let him play with your hair. When you pretend to be asleep and his fingers start to wonder, twirling a strand when he's close enough. It reminds you of when your mother or sister would try out new hairstyles on you, gently pulling.

Remember that one bath ask I got? Happens rarely, but sometimes it just feels nice to not be alone at inappropriate times. Thoughts happen. Memories resurface. The bath is a place where you are truly alone, you think. No one to talk to. In the past, when you were a small child, your sister or mother would help you bathe. You didn't like it all, saying you were a big girl - you were 6. But now that you're alone in a psych ward, you miss those innocent times.

You're the one to invite him. A quick bath, no perverted intentions... Sort of. Dion is handsome so maybe a small part of you also used it as an excuse to get some eye candy. You don't let him wash you, wary about nimble fingers that might venture into certain areas that are starting to crave... Something. You're worried you'll let him cross that line and you're worried it would just make everything worse. But if he acts nice enough, you'll wash his hair. He goes stiff, uncomfortable at first, not used to another person helping him bathe. It's a bit funny, seeing as how he's like a (dangerous, violent, disobedient towards Roxana and sometimes you even though you never asked for his leash in the 1st place) begging dog. A dog that hides it's teeth, pretends to be nice to get some treats. A dog that's only nice with it's master.

When you do bathe with him, you sit across from him. While you are touch starved, the idea of pressing your back against his chest...

No.

You do, however, push him away whenever his lips graze your ear. Too warm. Too intimate. Has your fingers grasping at his sleeve as you remind yourself he'll take a bite if given the chance, the opportunity. The shivers that run down your spine are warm and not cold.

You don't hug him, though. He doesn't really attempt to hug you either. You don't hold his hand unless you decide to spoil him a bit and wrap up any stray cuts he might have gotten (he barely does and honestly, it's a hit to his pride no matter how rare or small). Spread a balm across his fingers and palms. You always sit there in silence, neither breaking it. Everything would shatter otherwise.

He does the same for you, but it's slightly awkward, hesitant, too gentle. Sometimes you wish he would grab you like how he had with Roxana, hard enough to reopen her wound. Give you a reason to push him back further, to find someone else to give attention to, to remind you that your husband isn't a man but a vile beast.

But in the end, you know he would never let that happen. And thus, you give into his affections, return them even, knowing he holds your leash tight by something called 'marriage.'

After all, he's the only one you can touch.

= = =

I'm honored you made an account for me!!! Thank you for supporting me and I hope you'll enjoy future chapters/content

[pokemonblack3white3]

Question for the bad end au:

Do any of the Evil teams get into conflicts with one another?

Like Plasma attacking Rocket for Pokemon smuggling or Macro cosmos fighting against the Aether foundation to see which eldritch horrors is more eldritchy?

OHHH OK THIS WAS A SUPER FUN ASK TY. I think generally the teams are able to keep to their own on accounts of all being completely seperated. BUT. Yes there are still some conflicts, but also alliances between teams!

Team Galactic and Volo, being in another dimension, is completely isolated from the outside world. Team Star certainly does not like any of the evil teams, especially Macro Cosmos, but they're a gaggle of teenagers. None of them even know Team Star exists.

Team plasma tries to keep a good working relationship with all the other evil teams, but when he's alive Giovanni and Ghetsis are constantly looking for ways to sabotage each other. Ghetsis throws a party when Giovanni is assassinated, and immediatly tries to get involved in the Team Rocket power struggle that follows.

I'm a bit torn between Team Aqua and Magma still being enemies without Rayquaza acting as a divorce counselor but it may also be interesting for them to have come together and merged as a survival necessity? Anyways Hoenn has more or less been left for dead so they only ever interact with each other regardless.

Turo does not fuck with any of the evil teams they will be staying OUT of his sci-fi utopia thank you very much. His biggest issues come from Lusamine who wants a slice of that paradox pokemon pie. He adores Team Star, though. Yeah his son's friends! And what a smart girl that Penny is do you want me to arrange a play date for you.

Marco Cosmos was very much doing dealings with Team Rocket and Plasma or at least parties associated with them as a "necessary evil" for business. They just stopped caring about hiding it as much after Rose snagged Eternatus.

Team Skull and the Aether Foundation have an incredible blood feud. Whenever their grunts see each other it is on fucking sight. Guzma isn't getting tricked by this woman again.

I'm not too sure about Team Flare? I believe Rose and Lysandre get along in Masters get along in Masters so I could see Rose helping him rebuild Kalos but besides that Lysandre is very selective with who Team Flare associates with. He might be cool with Lusamine as well. They both appreciate the finer things in life. Catch Lysandre in that stupid machine he wore during his final battle, Nihilego fusion Lusamine, and just regular Chairmna Rose having tea complaining about poor people.

I think generally Ghetsis and Rose are the ones who really have their finger on the pulse and are actively making dealings with other evil teams. Giovanni likes how he benefits from his alliances with the two but is fine with just Kanto and Johto and doesn't care for fucking around with gods. Maxie and Archie are trapped between a war between gods. Cyrus and Volo are in another dimension. Lysandre is too snobby and egotistical to associate with dirty peasants and common criminals. Lusamine doesn't really care about anything but her zoo. Penny, Turo, and Kieran aren't evil. The Loyal Three and Pecharunt just want to fuck around and find out.

[cedarwrought]

just thought about how yang cheng hasn't had a proper birthday celebration since his parents died and im going to weep .

like yeah his uncle's probably given him the night off or free boba or something small. but he had no friends before xia qing, xiao youzi, and shang chao. and we all saw how well thats gone (still hoping its a fake out or that shang chao is alive somehow btw).

but i think hes very touched if you make him longevity noodles. i dont think he's ever really thought about his future outside of meeting e-soul again one day you know. he doesn't really have any future career ideas or aspirations.

i think . cooking noodles for him . putting in the work to make the broth and homemade noodles makes him a bit teary. someone wishing him a long life- and expressly wanting to spend it with him of all people- is very touching to him.

[lheslie]

You're my first boyfriend Toji

(A bit of insecure reader who wonders how you two stay in a relationship.)

---

You wonder how you pulled a man like Toji, he was a tall broad man who looks like a greek deity that had fallen down to earth.

You were sure that any women would give themselves or serve themselves on a silver platter to Toji once they'd see him.

Whenever you and Toji were out, many women looked at Toji gushing about him, on how handsome and tall he is.

Which makes you insecure about yourself because you wonder what he saw in you.

He could've had any women he wanted, but he had chosen you.

And Toji had picked up on this, normally he'd never notice it, but you were being too obvious about it as it often happens whenever you go out.

Although he had notice this, he doesn't know how to talk to you about it.

You've never had a boyfriend before, so you never knew how to approach him about your feelings in your relationship.

You and Toji were sitting next to each other in your room since Toji doesn't have a place for himself. He was sitting by himself while cleaning his weapons as you were typing away in your laptop.

Then you just sat there, as you looked at him as he also looked at you.

"What?"

"Nothing." You said

"You like what you seeing?"

You giggle as you look away.

Your relationship was normal, it's like nothing really changed about you two being friends.

Except that you two were in a relationship.

You walked two decided to talk a walk outside together and there it comes again, people looking at you two. Talking about Toji and how different the two of you are.

He immediately picked on this as he also heard the women talk about him.

"I'm not in a relationship with them aren't I." He spoke as you looked at him. Those words had made you soften with realization.

He started to continue to walk as you just stood there shocked, as you smiled to yourself.

Toji isn't good at comforting, you know that. But he spots and gets it. Sometimes.

You two were bad at communicating your feelings, Toji was broken and you never had a relationship before, other than that some other problems as well.

But you two try to talk to talk with each other, understand and love each other.

[soyokaze-sword]

in defence of the Earth Eleven and the whole Tsurufake thing

so. i think we can all agree that the fact no one finds the Tsurugi impostor (whom i'll call Tsurufake from now on) is very frustrating as viewers. however, i think people are a bit too harsh on the Earth Eleven in that regard, so i'd like to give my thoughts on the matter.

very long ranting under the cut:

the fact that Tsurugi was replaced by an importor is made obvious in every way possible for the viewer, and i insist on the word viewer. the scene where Tsurufake replaces him is shown to us, and we see Tsurugi go to Falam Orbius.

i'll first cover Tsurufake's appearance, since it's my weakest point. Tsurufake has purple eyes and eyebags to differenciate him from Tsurugi. and that's something i've always seen as just a way for the viewer to tell them apart? what i mean is that i think the Earth Eleven still sees Tsurugi's usual eye colour, it only exists in the viewer's perception to remind us that this is not the real Tsurugi. remember that the target audience is young children, after all. this makes even more sense in the game, as Tsurufake becomes playable in the postgame, so there needed to be a difference in his portrait and 3d model.

so, the Earth Eleven doesn't see any difference in Tsurugi's appearance. but what about his behaviour? surely this should've triggered a reaction. and it did, but not the one we wanted. before i go through every member likely to figure out Tsurufake one by one, i'd like to make a general statement.

how likely is this situation to happen? maybe i'm crazy or too socially awkward to understand, but if one of your friends starts acting weird all of a sudden, especially in an unknown environment where the future of the ENTIRE GALAXY is at stake, them having been abducted and replaced by an impostor is the last thing that will come to your mind, right? of course i get that in the world of IE what's unlikely for us isn't so much for them, but STILL. can you really blame them for not thinking about this scenario, when the most obvious answer was that this new environment and the stakes were making Tsurugi anxious?

i see you're still not convinced. so i'll talk about each character who was likely to find out one by one.

let's start with Aoi, Shinsuke and Shindou. Aoi and Shinsuke, despite having been around since the first season, aren't that close to Tsurugi. they've barely interacted alone, so i think it's safe to assume they don't know him well enough to notice. plus Shinsuke's too busy having a repeat of his CS arc to care (why does this character exist).

as for Shindou, in my opinion, it's because they've already grown appart during the first half of Galaxy. while Tsurugi kind of acts as a middle ground between Shindou and Tenma, it quickly becomes obvious's he's on the latter's side. which is why, while Shindou is seen talking to Tsurugi at first, he doesn't do it as much later on. this division, while minor, between the main trio, is what made them grow apart, probably without them even realising. Shindou still puts his full trust on Tsurugi on the field of course, but outside, i'd say he started to feel Tsurugi wouldn't understand if he tried talking to him.

now, on to the biggest part... Tenma. Tenma was the most likely to figure it out, Ozrock even mentions it. Tenma is the one who knows Tsurugi best, who was able to see through his facade and notice his real love for football.

well, first of all, there's the obvious 'Tenma had too much on his plate to worry about Tsurugi'. he's gotta lead a team of beginners in a space tournament that will decide the fate of the entire galaxy. the poor guy never gets to catch a breath in this season.

but, to go beyond that, i'd say that Tenma knowing Tsurugi well actually played against him. because Tenma knows Tsurugi is very quiet and doesn't talk when something's bothering him. so when he saw Tsurufake acting strange, his first instinct was probably "Tsurugi must be feeling really nervous, and miss his brother. i should give him some space". and, again, with so much to worry about already, he didn't try pushing further. it's frustrating of course, but understandable.

and finally, there's Minaho and Konoha. some were probably surprised that Konoha was the one to pick up on Tsurufake's weird behaviour and not Minaho, but i think it actually makes sense. Minaho analyses behavioural paterns and draws conclusions based on them. he needs to watch carefully someone in order to understand how their mind work. but we never see him examining Tsurugi's behaviour. the only thing that could've alerted him was Tsurufake staying away from Tenma, as those two were always together during the first half, but he probably put it on the account of the change of environment and the fact that Tsurufake said he felt sick.

as for Konoha, she doesn't analise, she understands people's heart. she's good at reading emotions. and, of course, while Tsurufake can copy Tsurugi's behaviour, he can't copy his emotions, which is why Konoha notices, FEELS something's off. problem is, she lacks the confidence to trust her instinct. and bad luck makes it so when she decides to tell Sakura, Tsurufake receives Tsurugi's memories, which allows to copy him better. so Konoha immediately thinks she must be seeing things and doesn't look further.

and that's all. while Tetsukado and Ibuki spent some time with Tsurugi in the first half, it's not nearly enough to notice something's off. of course i get why so many people are getting mad over the Earth Eleven not figuring out Tsurugi was replaced. i've actually been there. but i hope i managed to explain well enough how i think it's understandable on their part. galaxy's my favourite season, and while i understand why some didn't like it, i feel like the community is being too harsh at times. maybe i'll make another post to explain my thoughts on the Earth Eleven as the main team, if people are interested.

thanks for coming to my tedtalk.

[hadesknockedupintheunderworld]

One day

One day I hope people realize that Kitsunami already "broke through his programming" back by issue #56 of Idw Sonic

He had an entire mini arc where he dealt with being without Surge for the first time, and in the real world. He met Sonic and his friends directly, tried to work out what his purpose would be without Surge in his life (gave it a shot trying to devote himself to Sonic, seeing him as the next best thing after Surge). And when it was all said and done, he decided after experiencing more that at Surge's side is where he wanted to be.

As of the recent IDW issues, Kit isn't sticking with Surge "because of programming" and "because he just needs for other characters to friend him and turn him into a better person". He is at her side because he wants to be. He protects her and aids her because he cares about her, not just because he's serving the strongest guy in the room. And he's not interacting with others because he's decided not to give a shit about anyone else other than Surge (because from his pov, even the "good guys" are fake. From his pov, everyone is someone trying to lie and manipulate their way into pulling him and Surge to their side)

Kit already has decided what he wants to do with his life. And he decided it on his own. Not because of anyone else's wants or wishes. That's the whole point of his speech at the end of #56.

He's burying whatever his and Surge's past is and moving forward with his conviction to be with Surge because it's what he wants.

[possibly-evil]

(had a very big Think in the notes. pls read them.)

funnies aside about the catboy episode im starting to see a pattern

[nenoname]

wait did people actually interpret the stan o war ending as them not going back to gravity falls for a few months every year and instead as them only ever staying on the boat?? i thought that them staying for summers or just regular breaks + them constantly having video chats with family and friends was something everyone just assumed lol

(people tend to forget their motto of 'growing old doesn't mean growing up' too huh)