#jaxon's junk

[valdiis]

FFXIV Site Write #13: Butte

(No apologies at all. Never. I know full well what the word means.)

Daephrin Astramente was a bit odd. For many reasons, really, but one of them happened to be his pants. Unlike most men who liked a little room for their junk, he wore pants that were almost uncomfortably tight almost all the time. Truth be told, he did it because he liked the constriction, the feeling of being lightly squeezed. It tripped one of his peculiar sensors that enjoyed pain. See, I told you he was odd.

The other reason, however, was even simpler.

He had a magnificent butt, cupped lovingly in black leather. And he knew it. He moved like a man aware of his body and its effects - grace and a little swagger. More often than not, he made sure his shirts stayed short enough to not pass his waistline and ruin the presentation.

And if he liked to lean his elbows on the kitchen counter and stick his rear end out for show when he was expecting his lover to turn the corner into the kitchen, who could blame him?

At that moment, Jaxon did exactly that. He rounded the corner and stopped, his single blue eye narrowing at Daephrin. "You're doing that on purpose," he accused.

"Is it working?"

Jax growled and stalked across the kitchen to grab Dae's hips.

"I'll take that as ye- mmph!" The ever too talkative sky pirate found himself yanked upright from behind, his head pulled back for a kiss that silenced his flirting. Not that he needed to flirt anymore. He already had Jax's attention. Dae wriggled his backside against Jax playfully. To his delight, it earned him a swat on the arse.

"Go back to the living room, Lark, before you make me burn dinner. Again."

Dae laughed and relented in his flirtatious teasing. Mostly. "Don't be surprised if you find me naked on the couch."

"Am I ever surprised to find you naked in various places in my apartment?"

(Jaxon Tavard belongs to the delightful @briar-ffxiv)

[ajinsbf]

people who draw rei//mob need the

gif credit

( this includes anyone who ships p/dophilia or inc/st or anything of that nature. dont be that person )

[vityacristo]

I Found || MONTYA

Who: Vitya Cristo & Monty Prescott @montyprescottjoy​

When: July 10th, 2020

Where:  Alpha Xi Lambda house

What: Monty punches Bryce for over-serving Nikko. Vitya spots him, very intoxicated, forgetting he was meant to be avoiding Monty after their previous fight. The alcohol has both dropping their shields, getting closer on an emotional level, instead of a physical.

Triggers: General mental health; talk of underage drinking/sex, minor injury/blood.

MONTY

The past three days had been some of the most uncomfortable in recent memory for Monty. He'd paced his room and chain smoked all day while his cell phone sat silent on his bedside table taunting him while he waited for Vitya to call. But the call never came and by the end of the week Monty was wound so tightly he knew he needed to get laid or he'd resort to violence. He was a volatile person at the best of times but when he was frustrated he became even more unpredictable. He knew he should be going to the gym to get out some of his anger and whatever this pain in his stomach and chest was that seemed to turn everything in his sight green. In the end Monty agreed to go to the frat party that had been brought to his attention by his brother if only for a distraction and the chance to get laid. Frat boys were easy, they drank too much and were horny and needy. 

Seeing Schuyler being cutesie with Jaxon had taken Monty from frustrated to angry. But it went from bad to worse when he spotted Vitya talking to Schuy. He saw red, and it wasn't just the sight of the most beautiful hair he'd ever seen. His gut twisted at the sight making him want to throw up the piss-week beers he'd already consumed. 

Monty stormed away to the side of the house away from the main crowds trying to straighten his thoughts and then there was a frat boy in his face, introducing himself as Bryce and without thinking his fists were flying, connecting with exposed skin. The blonde went down fast, unsteady from the alcohol in his system and it shook Monty from the anger he was consumed by. His body went lax and he felt drained both emotionally and physically. It was time to go home. Without thinking Monty walked back around the yard, searching for the exit, searching for home, but instead he found himself beside Vitya. Yeah. He was home.

VITYA

Vitya was forcing himself to have fun. After his blow-out with Monty, he collapsed on his couch and didn’t get back up. He ignored Monty. Every time he even thought of the other man, butterflies would flutter in his chest. He chose to drown them, wallowing in a pit of junk food, sleep deprivation, and shitty anime. He did not move from his couch for the full three days since Monty interrupted his work. So this frat party, as much as he didn’t want to see anyone, was the perfect opportunity to forget the confusing emotions in his head, and just be free. He drink quickly and heavily. Challenging people to do shots, getting Anthony to match him drink for drink, even going as far as to steal one of the whiskey bottles that was at the bar as his own. Whatever occurred that night, he couldn’t think of it, let alone the past few days. He was warm, inside and out, drunk beyond comprehension. So, when he spotted Monty, a lopsided smile was on his face.

He stepped to Monty, clearly struggling, placing a hand on his shoulder for balance. He looked him up and down, eyes clearly having a hard time focusing. “You... look like shit.” Vitya said, laughing an inhuman giggle, soft and bubbly. He leaned forward and laid his forehead where his hand was. “Oh my God, the grass is dancing, and everything is a little swimmy and bouncy-“ Vitya brought the half-empty bottle of whiskey to his lips and took a sip before pressing it to Monty’s chest. “Here. For you. Happy birthday, fuckass... Ha! Fuck ass. We do that. A lot. I like it when we do that, it’s...” He stopped, losing his words the more he went on. “...The grass is dancing.”

MONTY

Montys breath hitched in surprise at Vitya’s touch. After a days of no contact they was suddenly touching again and it felt so good even if he was clearly out of his mind drunk. They’d been avoiding each other all night so this change was welcome but entirely surprising. He’d honestly expected to be ignored but apparently Vitya was so far gone he didn’t even remember he wasn’t speaking to Monty. In a way Monty was glad, maybe they could have this night and Vitya wouldn’t remember how much Monty had needed him tomorrow.  “I look like shit huh?” Monty raised an eyebrow, “ya not doin much better ya’self, ya in a worse state than them sorority chicks tryin’ ta strip over there” Monty indicated a group of drunk stereotypical girls in the middle of the party with a grimace on his face. 

“Yeah we do man, ya do have a nice ass,” he murmured in Vitya’s ear  with a smirk on his face.

Monty shifted under the weight of Vitya leaning on him but despite his discomfort he didn’t move. The warm weight felt like a calming force and he needed this even if he couldn’t express it.

“Yeah thanks, not my birthday though, don’t recon ya need any more of this” he took the bottle and a long drink, head tipped back and eyes closed, not pausing in chugging until he felt a hot burn in his throat. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and winced a little having not realized how messed up his knuckles were.

VITYA

Vitya was buzzing inside, from the booze, and the butterflies starting to flutter again. This time, though, Vitya didn't suppress them. He was too drunk to think of doing that, instead he hummed when he felt Monty's body heat, holding him even closer by placing his now bottle-less hand on Monty's hip. He laughed softly, looking over the girls dancing their clothes off and raising an eyebrow. "I could do so, so much better than them," he said with a laugh, swinging his hips from side to side.

Vitya watched as Monty drank the bottle down, smiling the entire time. He giggled again, this time against Monty's ear. "See, you'll feel so much better once you forget everything," he hummed, looking down at the empty bottle in Monty's hand, then freezing. He reached and took the bottle, dropping in on the ground absentmindedly, and then taking Monty's hand. He looked closely at Monty's knuckles.

"Did you fucking hit someone?" he asked, looking at Monty's face with a foreign look that hadn't crossed between them; concern. Worry. Vitya stood up straight, taking both of Monty's hands into his, looking at them closely. "Why haven't you fucking dealt with this yet, the bloods already drying. You fucking idiot, come on," Vitya snapped, grabbing Monty's wrist and moving them inside. He barely knew the layout of the frat, but he knew where the bathroom was, burning that into his memory in case he ever needed to throw up.

Once in the bathroom, he closed and locked it, tossing Monty against the counter. "You... You stay right there, I need to..." he looked around the bathroom, opting to start searching cabinets. "It's gonna get fucking infected because you're a dumbass and go punching random shit- Did they drink the fucking peroxide? Where is it?”

MONTY

"I don't doubt it, fuckin' sexy," Monty whispered, unable to stop himself as he leaned over, ghosting the word into the shell of Vitya's ear, not caring who saw as he drank in the sight of those sinful swaying hips and ass. Monty let out an involuntary moan when Vitya's hand grasped his hip, a shiver ran through his body and his cock twitched with interest. It seemed his whole body was in tune with Vitya and it was terrifying. But the alcohol he'd consumed tonight was clouding the fear and elevating his attraction to the redhead. 

Monty looked down, following Vitya's gaze to his hand that was indeed a little bloody. "Had worse, no big deal, 'll be fine," he shrugged, feeling small under the weight of Vitya's gaze which held an emotion Monty had never seen there before. It was one he'd only ever recognised on Nikko and it sobered him.  "Fuckin' frat boy gettin' Nikko drunk then hittin' on me fuckin' asshole thinkin' it's fuckin' funny." Monty muttered viciously, not paying attention to where he was being guided, his entire focus was on the way Vitya grabbed him and was now holding his shaking hands. But the shakes weren't from his injuries, they were from the way Vitya was staring him down with that look on his face and tone in his voice. It was the way Vitya had gone from sloppy drunk to concerned- concerned what? concerned friend? lover? Who fuckin' knew because Monty sure as hell didn't. 

"Relax man." The words were for himself as much as Vitya. "Above the sink, this is Nikko's frat, he always kept that shit there at home." He shrugged, not really caring about cleaning his hands but wanting Vitya to stop moving, it was making him dizzy. He just wanted Vitya to come back and press their bodies close again.

VITYA

Vitya rolled his eyes at the story, then laughing out loud. It wasn't his normal laugh, but a childish giggle. "See, I clearly have not drank enough, because-  Remember when you clocked me and gave me this?" Vitya pointed to the scar on his cheek left behind by the ring on Monty's finger. "It was literally because you went all man-banshee on me for telling Nikko to not take random drinks from people. See, I was fucking right!"

Vitya shook his head at Monty's insistence to calm down, relax, slow down. Instead, he looked above the sink, and sure enough, there was peroxide and bandages. He pulled them out, dropping other bottles onto the counter. He didn't care, it wasn't his bathroom. "You, you sit, here," Vitya said, making Monty sit on the toilet seat. Bringing the bottle of peroxide close to his face, he started trying to unscrew it, having trouble with the child-safety cap before strong-arming it, yanking it off. "Fucking piece of shit."

Vitya dropped onto is knees in front of Monty, looking up and him and smiling. "No funny ideas, okay? Normally, this is when I put your cock in my mouth, but I feel like I'd throw up if I gag." he admitted, pulling Monty's hand closer. He paused before starting to pour the peroxide. "M'sorry, just, my head is fucking swimming," he said softly, a true sense of sadness in his voice. "It's gonna sting," he said, gently, and messily, pouring the peroxide over Monty's split knuckles, the excess dribbling onto the floor. Again, not Vitya's bathroom, so not his problem.

"I had to do this all the fucking time in boarding school," Vitya said as the peroxide did it's work. "I picked fights a lot. The faculty would do nothing besides break up the fight, they never told our parents. We were the kids of the richest people in Russia; one bad word, and the school loses funding. So, yeah. A lot of fist fights, bloody noses, broken fingers."

MONTY

"Yeah ya remember when I socked ya but ya pro'lly can't remember what ya were doin' twenty fuckin' minuets ago." Monty rolled his eyes, shaking his head. "This idiot was one of their fuckin' frat brothers so not a stranger this time an' yet the little blonde prick still managed ta get on my wrong side." He babbled, continuing to talk far more than he usually would, or maybe it was just because it was Vitya and even with whatever weirdness was going on between them Monty just felt comfortable talking to him.

"I've spent my life protectin' Nikk an' that ain't about ta change any time soon. Lucky for me ya walked away from Nikko an' ended up bein' fucked by the asshole Prescott brother not the nice one who ya gave would've hurt." Monty shrugged, letting Vitya pretty much destroy the bathroom finding what he wanted. It was funny to see the usually composed young man blundering around, and Mont couldn't help but smile as foreign thoughts clouded his mind yelling in his head how cute the drunken red head was, especially as he was trying to help. He tried to take the bottle to undo the cap but clearly Vitya had a one track mind and Monty laughed the way he destroyed the top to get into the bottle.

Another shiver rippled through Monty seeing Vitya on his knees but he restrained himself from running his hands through the gorgeous red hair by squeezing Vitya's hand that was holding his while he cleaned the cuts. "Fuckin' rich kids." He grumbled, eyes flicking between their hands clutched together and those yellow-green eyes. "In another life we'd have either beaten the shit outta each other or been best friends if we went ta the same school." He chuckled, letting his mind wander to an all together different childhood.

VITYA

Vitya laughed, nodding. "I really don't remember, like... Fuck, did Anthony make it to his room, I was supposed to get him there when he blacked out- Shit, I haven't blacked out yet, that's the whole fucking reason I'm here," he admitted in a pathetic huff, his drunken ramblings unable to be suppressed. He shrugged at Monty's suggestion. "Your brother's too fucking soft for me. He looks like if he pulled my hair, he'd apologize, even if I told him to," Vitya joked.

Vitya dabbed at the peroxide with a nearby washcloth, blood staining it red. He wasn't deterred by that, reached for the bandages he grabbed from the cabinet. He opened them with his teeth, starting the whole process of covering Monty's knuckles. Vitya smiled at Monty's suggestion, his movements slowing down as the thought about it. He sighed, his voice shaking slightly.

"You would have been a better dorm mate than the one I got. He's insignificant now, but he was the first person that ever fucked me, got me high, got me drunk. I wouldn't mind if that was you, instead," he spoke softly, as if the walls could hear. His fingers carefully worked the bandage, the speed less to do with being accurate, and more to do with the fact that he couldn't keep focus is he moved quicker.

MONTY

"Not hard ta guess, ya were prolly shootin' liquor." Monty laughed, apparently it really was contagious like people said. "Fuck that guy! Ya know he's the asshole who got me my last night in the can, right? Fuckin' prick stickin' his nose in where it don't belong." He half shouted, anger flaring more at the memory of what transpired between himself and Schuy than at Anthony personally. Though he had been forced to spend his stash of emergancy money on his bail and fine so he felt he had a right to be angry. 

"Ya couldda just got black out drunk in ya dorm instead'a this lame fuckin' party ya know." He shrugged, trying not to care about the reasons Vitya might have wanted to get that drunk but being drunk himself it was hard to repress those thoughts.

"He's soft but he's the only one who gives a shit about me so I'll take it." Monty shrugged, still watching Vitya work carefully.

"Every fucker in that place wouldda been a shit dorm mate- wait- got ya high an' drunk as in drugged ya against ya will or did ya want it?" Monty's eyes narrowed, not liking where this was heading and he attempted to stand up as if he was going to fight this person who'd done something years ago and was thousands of miles away. It was just the way he was wired, to protect the ones he loves.... Wait, what?

VITYA

Vitya simply laughed at Monty describing his issues with Anthony. "He is the type to do that! It's okay, I need to find him and draw a dick on his forehead- You can, too, if you want. That'll make it even, right?" he joked, putting the last finishing touches on the bandages. He sighed, matching Monty's shrugged shoulders. "I've been drinking, just not enough. You get drunker with people, and I wanted to forget... something." He laughed, coldly. "I guess it worked, then." Vitya cocked an eyebrow, the butterflies in his stomach nearly spilling out of his mouth. "The only one, huh?"

Vitya had finished with Monty's hand, not just holding it and inspecting his handiwork. it was not clean, by any means, but passable. Someone more sober should have done it, but Vitya was quite proud of himself. He shook his head at Monty's question, then shrugged unknowingly. "I was sheltered for so long, I did everything I could. Some of it, yeah, I chose to do that. Like breaking into the girl's dorm, or starting fights. The rest of it... If I didn't do it then, would I ever get the chance? So, I guess, yeah, I was forced. but not by other people. By myself." He sat more on the tile floor, his back against the wall of the bathroom, a soft smile on his face, still pink from his intoxication. "It's fucking pathetic. But, I'm not there anymore. I'm here with you. So, fuck it all."

MONTY

"Yeah no, drawin' a dick on his head ain't near enough equal for that shit unless he's payin' me every red cent it cost me." Monty growled, shaking his head, ignoring Vitya's laughing. He did look down at his hands then, his insides churning as if on a rollercoaster at the softness of Vitya's touch as he wrapped the bandages. "Couldn'ta been that important if ya really did forget. Takes more than alcohol ta really numb the kinda pain ya wanna black out ta forget." He added knowingly. 

There was so much of his own life he'd tried to forget but there were several thing that happened -that he'd done- recently that he wanted to forget in the moment but somehow knew if he really did try to erase them it would be much worse.

VITYA

"Only one I know of." Monty replied, avoiding Vitya's gaze as best he could, despite wanting nothing more than to get lost in those eyes which sounded absolutely ridiculous to his own mind.

"But he didn't- ya know..." He trailed off, not wanting to think of Vitya in the position of something being done to him against his will even though clearly many of the things Vit had done in school were not things he'd really wanted to do looking back but to be physically forced against his will was a thought that made Monty feel sick and angry. 

Monty looked down, running his hand through his own hair nervously, wanting nothing more than to reach out and hold Vitya. "Ya know- ya know I'd never force ya ta do shit right?" He asked hesitantly, his whole body and mind relaxing at the way Vit had said I'm here with you it sounded so sure and confident, like nothing could keep them apart, though what kind of together they were Monty didn't know.

MONTY

Vitya reached into his pocket and pulled out his Sharpie. "But it will help, right?" he asked, raising an eyebrow before losing his composure and drunkenly giggling. His face sobered a bit at Monty's inquiry, rubbing at one of his eyes with the heel of his hand. "It probably wasn't. Something made me feel like shit, enough to get wasted. Knowing how fucked my head is, I was over-reacting... Because of course I was, fucking asshole- I don't know how you stand me, honestly."

Vitya let his comment go, bringing his knees closer to himself. "Then fuck me, I guess," he said, knowing it was petty to say such a thing. But Vitya was petty, and an asshole, and no where near his rational sense of mind. He was going to say what he wanted, how he wanted to. he looked at Monty's face, unsure what his intent was for digging at Monty like that, but it felt good.

"Rape me? No," Vitya stopped and breathed in, relaxing more into the floor. "No, no one has. I know I'm lucky, considering how often I fuck, and my job being what it is. Worst that ever happened was one client said they'd pay, then robbed me of the payment. But nothing like that happened in boarding school."

Vitya sat there, silently at Monty's question. He swallowed, and sat, avoiding eye contact. Yeah, he was not drunk enough, because hearing that vulnerability in Monty's voice had him swimming in my he was even drinking in the first place. God, all the fear, all the heart-pounding passion, all the vicious want he was repressing... It was swarming his drunk mind, lacking all his normal mental blocks and seeping in. His breathing at picked up, and his cheeks went from a drunk pink to an embarrassed red. "I wouldn't be with you so much if I thought you would."

An admission of trust. Vitya's heart, metaphorically, skipped a beat.

MONTY

"Ya don't have a fuckin' clue ya've been ignorin' me for three days do ya?" Monty laughed, full of sarcasm and disbelief. It was an ugly sound that matched how he felt. He couldn't believe Vitya had managed to forget the entire reason both of them were so messed up. "I can't fuckin' stand ya but for some fuckin' reason I can't stay away." He admitted, feeling far too exposed and vulnerable but he still was intoxicated enough to let down that wall. 

"I didn't- I didn't know man." Monty stuttered, shocked expression overtook his face. Vit looked so small curled up like that so without a second thought Monty leaned down to join Vitya on the floor and pulled him close so Vitya was basically sitting in his lap. Monty never wanted to let him go. Monty let out a breath he didn't realise he was holding when Vitya confirmed it had never happened, he was relieved and let his guard drop so he was no longer in fight mode. 

He avoided Vitya's eyes, not really sure if he even wanted the younger man to answer. The idea of someone placing their trust in him was completely foreign, but at the same time Vitya seemed to be an exception. He wanted Vitya to have someone to trust, even if Monty didn't feel worthy, he wanted to try, for the first time in his life he wanted to try. 

"Don't- don't leave me again..." He croaked out.

VITYA

Vitya thought a moment, trying his best to wade through his drunken haze. “...I wasn’t trying to ignore you, I just couldn’t say anything. Like, I physically couldn’t do it.” He chuckled darkly. “I fucking watched High School of the Dead, non-stop, to get the voices in my head to shut up. I haven’t fucking slept, because you-“ Vitya pointed at Monty. “Got inside my head again, and I can’t get you out. It’s like you’re stuck there.”

Vitya let Monty move him, settling himself in the other man’s lap, to feel that familiar heat. It only reminded Vitya how cold he was, how much he missed the other man’s touch when he wasn’t there. It confused him that, of all things, just being this close again made things so much more clear.

Vitya tensed at Monty’s request. Leave him? He didn’t leave him anywhere besides... Oh. Leaving him in bed alone to go work. Leaving him on read, not messaging back, forcing him out. Yeah, he guessed. Perhaps he did leave him. Vitya’s hand found home on Monrty’s neck, gentle and hesitant.

“...I’m fucking lost,” Vitya said quietly. “I thought I came here to America to die, to get away from home to ruin my last few years on my own terms. So, why is it, when you’re around... All of that just goes away? What did you do?” Vitya bit his lip, closing his eyes and laying his tipsy head on Monty’s shoulder. “Can you do it now?”

MONTY

"Couldn't huh?" Monty asked rhetorically and raised his eyebrow but absorbed the words. It reminded him of his mom in a way, when she'd get lost in a haze of whatever she'd been shooting up. She favoured downers like Heroin that left her stuck in bed, unable to care for herself or her children. But it didn't sound like Vitya was on downers this was something else though he didn't know what. "Me too." He mumbled, not meeting the accusatory look on Vitya's face.

Monty traced his hands over Vitya, no destination in mind only the need to map him out and bring back the memories of the man beside him. It had only been three days but it felt like an eternity. He'd been empty and aching without him but being pressed together again felt like coming home. The hand on his neck felt firm and grounding and mindlessly he sought out more affection, nuzzling his face into the hand. 

"Ya don't gotta be lost, just be here with me." Monty murmured quietly, sounding shy for probably the first time in his life. He ran a soothing hand through Vitya's hair, taking a long moment to process the words. Could he make it all go away? All of Vitya's fears and pain? He knew he didn't have to words to fix all of that but maybe he could do something... He lifted Vitya's face by placing both his hands on each side of Vitya's jaw and pressed a gentle kiss to his lips.

VITYA

Vitya's world was spinning around him, but slower now. A gentle push and pull once he was in Monty's arms, his body humming with satisfaction at his touch. The numbness of isolation, the fear of intimacy, all of it, was washed away while his veined pumped with all the drinks he had. The hand he had on Monty's neck slid up into his hair, not gripping, just holding there. Like a doe fearing his next step, Vitya came in even closer, wrapping an arm around Monty's waist and properly placing himself on Monty's lap.

Vitya didn't falter when Monty kissed him. He, at first, thought Monty was just touching him, but when he kissed him... Vitya melted. God, it was what he wanted so badly, so desperately since their argument. A gentleness he didn't realize he was missing. Someone was truly wanting him, and not just beyond the next few hours; no one had kissed him the way Monty did. He closed his eyes, and just let go. A blossoming warmth in his chest bloomed, making his limbs tingle, and his breath struggle in the best way.

Vitya broke away suddenly, eyes wide when he felt something on his cheek. He reached up and touched it, laughing at himself. It a cold, embarrassed laugh. Vitya had started crying. He wiped at his eyes, only spreading the tears around, making his eyes puffy and red. "I'm sorry, shit... I am fucking wasted, I shouldn't be fucking- It's not you, it's-" Vitya motioned to his face, hoping his drunkenness was a good enough excuse for this. He wasn't weeping, or truly crying, but the tears just flowed. He couldn't finish a sentence, too concerned with trying to make himself stop. But, he couldn't.

MONTY

Feeling Vitya pull himself closer made all of Montys fear melt and disappear. Never in his life had he felt so calm and collected. It was as though nothing and nobody existed outside of this bubble they created together here on the hard bathroom floor of a frat house where a party was raging around them. But Monty could no longer feel the cold hard tile, or hear the shouts of drunken frat boys or the pounding music. All he could feel was Vitya’s warm pliant lips, the comforting weight of his body, the sound of his breathing. Monty was lost in Vitya and he never wanted to be found. He was at peace even as his chest constricted and his head and stomach spun he felt content. Whatever these feelings inside his body were he knew, somehow, that they were good, that feeling these things with a boy -a man- pressed against him was exactly how he should feel. 

Monty let out a breathless chuckle and gently batted away Vitya’s hands from rubbing his eyes and softly placed small kisses to his eyelids and continued down the tracks the tears were making on his unusually pink-tinged cheeks. 

“Let’s get outta here.” Monty whispered, as though speaking at a normal volume would break some spell they were under.

[unholyhelbig]

It’s an Errand, Kid

[A/N: It’s been a hot minute since I’ve actually written Junksen, and no, I don’t really know what this is... but it’s something.] 

READ IT ON AO3 HERE 

Aubrey’s father explained to her at a young age that the reason all the floors in the house were marble, had everything to do with the fact that blood didn’t stain as easily, and not for the lavish home décor magazine that did three pieces on the lavish architecture that it possessed.

The marble was cold and mostly a phantom white. But then there were specks of gray that Aubrey used to maneuver onto with socked feet like the stark color would burn her toes if she were to slip off. But then something much redder than imaginary lava would spill across the tile and her game didn’t’ seem so fun anymore. But her father was right- it was easy to scrub and never left a pink residue that was sure to stick against linoleum.

“Please close the door.”

Aubrey let the large slab of wood softly shut behind her as the metallic scent coated every inch of her lungs like a thick casing. The soapy water that was spilled against the puddle of crimson diluted it to the point of bubbly acid burning.

The girl scrubbing the mess with a bristled brush glanced up from her work. Her hair was thrown into a messy bun atop her head and a slight brine of sweat beaded against exposed skin. The black of her t-shirt covered the blood that had soaked so easily into the fabric, speckles against white cheeks. Her eyes were a kind chocolate despite the task at hand. A tattoo stretched across her forearm in the shape of a stretching crow and her perfect features acknowledged Aubrey’s presence.

“I thought my father wasn’t supposed to bring work home anymore.”

“He didn’t,” She responded, “your brother did, apparently didn’t get the memo.”

Aubrey hummed in response and stared at the girl. Emily Junk was the closest thing the Posen family had to an errand girl, or maybe in an intern if she were keen enough to throw a professional term at it. She had been working for Victor Posen for almost a year at this point and grew past her childlike wonder into a strong young woman not afraid to scrub blood from the floor while someone, Chloe, no doubt, disposed of the body along with the rug that was mysteriously missing.

Aubrey felt the edge of exhaustion creeping into her bones, a slowly setting sun casting a demon-like glow against Emily’s soft expression. She had learned to not ask questions about her families after school activities long ago, pouring herself into her work and attending the lavish parties that they threw when the doors to their home were opened for councilmen and high-ranking members of society. She  

“What?” Emily asked. Aubrey blinked, not realizing that she was staring.

“Nothing, you’ve just got-“The older girl knelt down, not letting her knees hit the tile like it was molten soup from her childhood. Instead, she leaned forward just a tad and used her thumb to wipe a few specks of blood from Emily’s cheek. It smeared into the blush that crept against her neck. “A little something right there.”

“Oh, uh, thanks.”

The lawyer nodded before rising to her feet to leave Emily to her chore. Her heart was in her throat and stretching down to her fingertips from more than the rushed haste to climb the stairs to her room. Careful not to track any color that had spread to her boots. She listened, not daring to take a breath until she heard the methodic scrubbing of a brush against marble floors.

That night at dinner, no one spoke of the blood that had been spilled earlier. A table with an equally delicate cloth was covered in large bowls filled with her mother’s cooking. She spooned a scoop of green beans onto her plate and passed it towards Jaxon, who always sat to her father’s left, ready to kiss the diamond on his hand.  

Chloe shoved a forkful of chicken into her mouth, chewing slowly, no doubt working up an appetite from earlier activities. Beca tore open a roll with her fingers and slathered a helping of butter onto the pastry. Emily sat, sandwiched in the middle as she pushed her mashed potatoes around her plate until it covered the subtle pink flowers completely. Everyone else chatted evenly about their days, about the traffic, and that they had decided on a rezoning policy for the docks.

“Emily,” Victor spoke evenly, his eyes over the rim of his champagne glass. “Tomorrow I need you to pick up a package on Grand. No earlier or later than half-past seven. Take Beca with you.”

She swallowed the food in her mouth and nodded in acknowledgment. Beca raised a brow at the interaction, or mainly the part where she had to wake up before the sun decided to rear its head. None of them were in a position to question the action but she frowned for a moment, regardless.

“I can go with her,” Aubrey said, breaking the silence in the room. “I mean, my office is a few blocks away and I can take care of myself better than Beca.”

“I resent that statement,” She said lazily, moving her arm over the back of the chair. “I can dismember a man with my index finger.”

“And I can do so with my pinkie, but that’s not my point.” She adjusted her stare to her fathers curious one. “It’s pointless to send her to the drop zone when she works across town. A waste really.”

He wrinkled his nose, possibly the only trait that Aubrey inherited from him, as he thought about it. Her office was a few blocks off and Emily was new enough that she hadn’t had the pleasure of much one on one time with Aubrey. She was always at Victor's side, rushing to make his favorite malt- taking out a man with the pearl edged pistol that was always in a holster against her hip. An intern. An errand boy.

“Fine,” he yielded, “I don’t care who goes as long as I get what I want.”

That was the endgame and Aubrey knew that much about her father. He had taught her enough to take care of herself and anyone else who decided to try something against them. It had never been about safety to him and that worked in her favor in this case. Emily lifted both eyebrows before focusing her attention back on the meal in front of her, Aubrey suddenly finding her appetite again.

It was early the next morning when they set off. Emily was leaning against the concrete steps of the Posen household with her hands in the pockets of her peacoat. Her breath was steaming in front of her and a cigarette hung from her lips, the tip burning an angry red. Her nose raw from the cold. The city was barely starting to stir, and Aubrey could only hear her blood rush past her ears.

They fell into an even pace, “Do you even know what he has you getting?”

“It’s not my job to ask questions. Besides, the way I figure it, I’m better off not knowing.”

Aubrey scoffed, that was lesson number two about living in the Posen household. The less you know the less you can give up in a pain-filled torture session. Aubrey had never been subject to one herself, but there was always less to give up if she didn’t have the information in the first place.

“Right… what got you into this anyway? If you don’t mind me asking.”

“Into getting the package. Or the highest-ranking crime family in the city?”

“The latter,” She was meant with a rough swallow and silence. “When I was sixteen, Chloe came over for Christmas dinner. Her parents were out of town and we were naive enough to believe that the Holiday’s were off-limits, you know?”

Emily glanced over at her with curiosity.

“We were in the middle of our meal when bullets started to crash through the windows and we all huddled under the table. It probably lasted for less than a minute, but afterwards, we all busted out laughing- I swear, Chloe thought we were actually insane. But later that year my father initiated her- protected her, and suddenly she was more than a friend.”

“She was family.”

“Exactly, even though it was a fucked-up family that had to pull glass out of the Christmas ham before they actually ate it. It was family.”

There was another lull of silence and Aubrey wondered what it was like. She grew up wanting for nothing, in a home that hid rolled up thousands in the shower rods, but nonetheless, it was a home. A home where there was always food on the table and cars in the driveways, and a makeshift community that she could call her own. Only people who were truly lost ended up at Sunday dinners, and for that matter, running errands for her father.

Emily nudged her shoulder and gave her a dazzling smile that changed the mood completely. “You’ve got a lot going on in that head of yours, don’t you?”

“That obvious huh?”

“A little.” She shrugged “I mean, you were born into all of this and you decided to lock away the ammo and fight the city in a different way. Figured you need quite a brain to go to law school. To open up your own practice.”

Aubrey had another name under hers on the sign that hung next to that of a small café and a sub shop. But it was close enough to her own and she had gotten it all by herself. Not through thinly veiled threats or otherwise. She was the black sheep of the family- Emily’s words made her chest swell. They were at the building before she could respond.

Two men stood not in the threshold, but in the alleyway. It was laden with rancid trash from the sticky dumpster to their right. Tobacco leaked from cracked lips. Aubrey noted the ink that was against exposed skin- a fox. Its oranges were vibrant and paws dipped in charcoal. Her own marking burned under her jacket like it had been retraced in venom.

“I suppose both our bosses have enough sense to not send us alone.” The first man spoke. He was shorter than his counterpart but carried himself well. “Do you have the money?”

Emily nodded and pulled a small envelope that had some bulk to it from her pocket. It looked golden under the early morning light. The taller of the two matched her package with one equal in size but flatter in stature. The trade was seamless despite the weight of the handgun against the back of her jeans. Her fingers twitched but she didn’t reach for it.

An errand for an errand boy.

The two of them turned away, but only after the men did first, stepping back out onto the sidewalk, into the real world that was starting to stir from its slumber. The street lamps flicked off and the sound of distant engines buzzed against their eardrums. Emily had pushed the package in place of the money.

“Those were Wilson boys,” Aubrey confirmed what both were thinking. “I wonder what Victor needed from them.”

“I’m not sure, but it’s not my place to ask.” Emily was quick to answer. “Whatever he wants to do… whatever he’s done. I’m not privy to.”

“And that doesn’t bother you at all? That you don’t know what you’re doing for him?”

Emily stuttered in her steps, her fingers tracing the collar of her jacket just enough to smooth out an edge that was already smooth. “Do you, Aubrey?”

[maxhoemo]

“I’m Chad.”

“And I’m Max.”

“And this is Cold Ones on channel 12.”

“We’re here today with Drop Bear. They’re touring in promotion of their new record, Teenage Angst. Chad, why don’t you hold that up?”

“Right here... Here it is... Uhh, Scott, zoom in on this shi-seriously....”

“What inspired this album? Like, it’s really crazy...”

“Well, Jaxon and I were like, at home, right?” the blonde Aussie explained.

“We grew up on a farm.”

“Yeah... Well, anyways... Our parents were always like, trying to tell us what to do. They were totally against the band, the whole thing and... Can I swear on here?”

“No,” Chad shook his head. “It’s public access, mate.”

“Well, anyways... Yeah...”

“Mum’s just really annoying, I guess is the point.”

“Yeah.”

“Well you boys came a long way.”

“Basically trying to get as far away from her as possible, really....”

“What’re a couple of Aussies like you doing in freaking Canada anyways?” Jaxon asked the hosts.

“College exchange, mate,” Chad answered.

The brothers just rolled their eyes.

----

“Drop Bear are playing tomorrow night at the Junk Club, they’re opening for Vomits-Ville....So...Be there...”

“And Max and I will be there too, where we will be selling these Cold Ones buttons. Scott, please get a shot of these buttons... I stayed up all night making these.”

“What? I didn’t know you were doing that.”

“Here boys. Max give some to Jaxon and Lachlan.”

“Nobodies gonna buy these...” Max commented, as he passed the brothers each one of the shoddily made pins. 

“Max. We are the sixth highest rated music show on channel 12!”

----

Max really didn’t like going to these after-show parties. Mainly because they took place at the house of “DJ Killer Keemstar”. Local radio personality/promoter/massive douche. But it was just where things seemed to naturally migrate a lot of the time. Especially since the bands that would roll through town often stayed at his place instead of paying for a hotel.

Max was leaning against a counter in the kitchen, chugging some disgusting American beer. He wore a baggy black-t shirt, a pair of denim shorts, bright green fishnets and Doc Martins. He’d attempted to add some blue highlights to his hair with Kool-Aid before heading out that night, but it didn’t really work. 

He scanned the room. There was Chad, wearing all of the stupid Cold Ones buttons he’d made on his denim jacket. Chatting up some goth chick. Then there was the Fairbairn boys. Max felt bad for them. Nobody had really paid much attention to their set. They’d been totally overshadowed by the headliners. That new wave band Vomits-Ville....Speaking of, they were here too.

Max stole a glance at the lead singer. A gorgeous Japanese dude with a long fringe of black, red-tipped hair hanging in his face. His tight t-shirt clung to his body in a way that made Max lose his senses. He had just stared at him the entire set. Hardly even hearing the music at all. Just watching him sing. God, Max wanted him! 

He didn’t even know the fuckers name! He’d have to change that. He tossed the empty can away and wiped his mouth. Shouldn’t be too difficult. Max had never once been rejected. Not by chicks. Not by “straight” guys. Chad said he was a typical groupie slut, but Max preferred to think of himself more as an irresistible sex God.

He made his way to the living room where the action was. Someone handed him a paper plate and a piece of plastic straw. Max happily accepted and snorted a line of coke from the plate, passing it on to Chad. He twitched his nose a little and turned his attention to the Japanese singer. “Hey, I’m Max.”

“Joji.”

God. He was so aloof. Like he didn’t even care. It was hot. 

“You guys were really great up there.”

“Thanks.”

Hot!

“Yeah, thanks man.”

Oh shit! It was the guitar player. Max hadn’t recognized him at first but he did now. He was so unassuming. He looked like Buddy Holly or something. Aside from that little lip ring you’d have to really look for to notice. 

“Totally,” Max smiled politely. 

As the paper plate made it’s way over to Jaxon, Max panicked. Without thinking he just yelled. “Aye! No! You two’re too young for that shit!”

Jaxon laughed.

“I’m serious! Don’t do that shit! Chad, get these boys a joint.”

“I’m not your fucking slave...”

“You just did it!” Jaxon argued.

“That’s different! I’m a grown up.”

“You sound like our mum,” Lachlan mocked.

Max thought about snatching the plate away but by the time he thought of it Jaxon was already doing a line. Max frowned. He hated seeing kids doing hard drugs. It really bothered him. Even if he had done it himself at their age...Or maybe that was the reason... He wasn’t really sure, but he knew it bothered him. 

“Don’t listen to Matt!” That garden gnome chimed in.

“It’s Max....”

“He’s fucked in the head. You know. From the syphilis.”

“Oh, good one you fucking gnome....” But Max’s comeback was drowned out by laughs. He crossed his arms and fell back against the wall.

The night continued on with the crowd growing smaller, and more waisted.

“Ugh....” Joji groaned, causing Max to turn and look at him. “I’m goinabed...”

“Hey...J-joji... Hang on....”

[mytrashemo]

Our little game

 she still can't believe that he caught her. the striking red jacket she wore - the one she decided to wear to simplify that X marks the spot - gave so much away to him. He decided that she wanted him to find her, in the field where all this junk are, just for them both "Well done, Jaxon," she applauded, smiling even, as if congrulating him is supposed to be funny. He decipers on how is he supposed to react - give in and gloat on this endless chase he supposedly ended, or did she just gave in and let him win this round of the game she initiated?  "It has been quite fun being the mouse," she added, as if prodding him to speak.  "Is everything always a game to you? How did you even intercept my commissions in my vessel? How did you manage to outsmart me in every turn? How is this even happening, are you even for real-" At every moment he spoke, he is drawn to her like a magnet, finally touching the edge sleeves of her red jacket, trailing his right hand to her own - how tiny in comparison, letting his forefinger trace the scar under the sleeves, to the palm outstretched to him. He realized how quiet she became, how suddenly it came to him she is a woman, smelling like swear with a hint of lilac, the sweetness of her scent. Her breaths became as real as the hand he touched.  "You're holding my hand already," she says bitterly, bringing him back to consciousness, "isn't that real enough for you?" She wouldn't reveal all her secrets in the game they played, as those were hers to share, not his to know. She had come to endear his persistence of grasping her in his arms, prolonging the game of cat and mouse of hers, his timely efforts of finally catching her. She decided to make it easier for him to do so, and he probably realized that by now - that smart cookie. This hand holding thing, is probably a plus.  "You're real," he mused in amazement. "People say you are a legend of the night, like a ghost in the wind." "I do gain quite a reputation, Jaxon," she smiled mysteriously, "but I am *certainly* not a ghost."  "How did you keep outsmarting me at *all* my plans?" She gazed down at their touching hands, "Hard to believe, but are you going to keep holding my hand, Jaxon?"

[kylerfey]

Post-Easter-boy, Danny nails me

So a couple hours after the kid from work—the one who fantasized about getting pregnant by us—went home (see last post), Danny wanted to fuck again. I offered to try to attract someone on Grindr or Hornet if he wanted a second random dude that day, but he told me that I would do just fine. “But you need to put out that ass,” he said. “I don’t want you to just try to give me a blowjob and make me cum like that, Ky-Ky! I want to fuck your hole.” He was referring back a couple months—probably the last time we had actual one-on-one sex with no third or fourth dude with us—when he wanted to fuck my hole but I was resistant. I won’t go into the gross details, but I was having a rectum situation that day which made me feel not much like having Danny’s giant hog stuffed into it, so I pretty much forcibly blew him with the intention of making him cum, making his hard-on go down, perhaps making him lose interest in jamming his dick into my cunt. That worked that day, but he wasn’t having it last night. Honestly, if he insists, he can do whatever the fuck he wants to do with my body. I gave him pre-consent for any sex act he wants to do with me many years ago, but I had no problem at all with this plan last night anyway. My husband peeled off his tank-top and dropped his shorts and went to refrigerator. He snapped open a liter bottle of club soda, sipped some of it, spilled some more of into the sink. He added to it a heavy shot of vodka and then handed it to me. “Fill it, Ky-boy. Can you? Do you need to piss?” I told him to get on his knees, get ready in case I overflowed. And I did: I managed to aim my stream into the bottle’s opening but it filled to the top well before I was empty. Danny caught the rest in his mouth, only dribbled a little bit over his chin and onto the floor. “The perfect cocktail,” he said, standing up, taking back the bottle, sipping from it: “Vodka, club, Ky-Ky’s piss.” He chugged it.

Danny foreplayed with me in bed a little bit, sliding down the mattress and nestling his face into my crotch, licking the underside of my dick from root to tip, pushing the tip of his tongue into my pre-jac-drippy piss-slit. He told me my junk still smelled like the Easter boy’s cunt, and it probably did even though I’d rinsed off a little bit after I was done with him. Danny remarked that he thought the Easter kid was super-cute, that he looked “like that Russian boy.” Danny has watched repeatedly over the last year or so a video of a pretty big-eyed glossy-eyed young Russian boy, or maybe some other kind of Slavic kid, sucking a cock and getting fucked bareback. The vid is shot as if it is from the POV of the top, so one never sees the top dude’s face or whole body, just his cock and his belly. Danny thinks this video is the hottest thing ever and he has jacked off to it dozens of times since he discovered it on PornHub. I mentioned that the Easter kid and probably the Russian kid, too, were younger than Jaxon (my son), a fact that rocks hard my cock.

Danny says this: “Actually, Ky, that kid we fucked today is probably young enough to be your grandson.” Oh hell no! I said. I knowyou did not just say that I am old enough to be a fucking grandfather whenyou, in fact, are by far the oldest dude in this bed! I rolled Danny onto his belly and open-palm spanked his bare ass quite hard for nearly a full minute until it was sweetly red. When he recovered from the giggling fit that receiving a spanking from me always causes he said, “Well, do that math on it. It’s technically possible!”

We worked through it: it was physically possible for me to have sired a son when I was eleven, though I did not actually do this until I was in college. I had my first real ejaculations shortly after my eleventh birthday. I had been jerking off and dry-cumming for a long time already, and I was even having some wet orgasms when I was ten, but the fluid was clear like my current copious pre-jac. Shortly after my eleventh birthday, I documented in my journal a change in my ejaculations to where they become thicker and whiter and I concluded that I was releasing sperm like a more mature male. By age eleven-and-a-half I was consistently having this kind of ejaculation, not just sporadically but every time that I orgasmed, which was generally daily since I was already a daily masturbator and had been for years before I became ejac-capable. So, assuming that this sperm was viable, I could have gotten a woman pregnant at age eleven-and-a-half had there been one who actually wanted me to fuck her and squirt my kid-goo into her at that age. If the resulting son, who would have been born when I was twelve-and-a-quarter years old, had followed my path exactly and had himself sired a son when he was eleven-and-a-half, then my grandson would have been born when I was about twenty-four and he would now be about seventeen, the age of the mpreg kid we nailed yesterday (that’s a legal age here—we are very careful about the age thing, and I checked his ID before we got to work on him). So Danny, I admit, was technically correct but only if the highly unlikely scenario of both me and a hypothetical son both siring children when we were only eleven had actually happened. But in real life, I was twenty when I impregnated my son’s mother and that kid has, at least so far, not fathered any children, and he is gay as fuck and probably has never even had any hetero sex in his life.

I spanked Danny again, harder this time, and he laughed and cried out loudly and the pain on his ass pushed him over, over to right where he needed to be, and he put me on my back, his knees spreading mine apart, and he hawked spit onto his cock and more of it into the palm of his right hand and slathered his shaft with it and I braced myself for pain because he wasn’t going to use any lube other than his spit and his pre-jac, but it didn’t hurt that much once he passed through the ring and was all the way inside. The fuck, like a lot of Danny-fucks, was really rough and fast, faster and faster, banging the fuck out of my prostate, making me cry out, making me scream his fucking name. “Do you love me, Ky-Ky?” he said, and drooled a streamer of spit onto my lips. I told him I love him so much. Say it louder, baby, he said: “Tell me you love me, Ky!” I screamed it, screamed it so loud, so loud, and I sobbed and I said, “I love you so much, Danny-boy!” and he grunted and cried and a couple tears fell from his eyes onto my face and he gasped and shuddered and released and released harder and I knew he was losing his nut all the way inside me. Even before he withdrew, I grabbed my cock and tugged it a dozen times and squirted a fuckload on my belly. Danny pulled out and then lowered his face to my belly, smeared his scruffy chin against my belly skin, raised his face and showed me the cum-glaze on his chin and cheeks.

[mistress-thor]

@metanoia1x1

Earlier on in the day, Aiden found himself at the Jackson’s helping out. His best friend Erik was at work, and his wife was home and sick. Aiden went to help out because he knew that Serenity needed the help, for the simple fact that she did not want her toddler boys getting sick at all. His niece Ana was busy doing some homework in which he was trying to help her with. It was something he eventually picked up on while watching Serenity. As the day went on, dinner time was approaching, and Serenity had just made her way downstairs only to find the place in a mess. This was bad news for the male, as he knew was coming and his best friend Erik wasn’t home to save him this time. Before he could say sorry he’d clean it up, his ass was kicked from one corner of the room to the next. Sometimes he wondered how Erik survived the wrath of his wife, who was pure.....evil at times. 

The evening, Aiden found himself running and not towards his apartment but to a friend in common, Cassandra. Aiden didn’t ring her doorbell like a normal person, or call to see if she was home, but instead he broke into her home, in which it wasn’t the first home he broken into. He did break into the Jackson’s, Jaxon, and now Cass. Picking up her laptop he placed it on his lap, firing up Google Chrome. Typing in a site he found on her laptop before, his head whipped to the door, eyebrows raised. “Alright here me out, Ser kicked my fucking ass so hard I should be in a hospital right now. But, I needed to use your laptop. Did you know your pornhub membership is about to expire? Shall I renew it?  I need to see if my junk is still working, so I needed some assistants, which requires your pornhub subscription.” 

[jaxmorgan]

@lilianapisano

Challenge accepted.

Two words, seventeen letters, stared back at him through the screen of his phone. A flip-phone, an outdated one. Simply, he didn't see the reason or need to have anything more then what he had in his hand at the current moment. He didn't call, or even texted people often. If he could have it his way, he simply wouldn't speak to the outside world at all. This was why he had brought the building he lived in, the whole building. It was just him, and whatever project he desired upon that day. This was how he lived, and as far as he was concerned, it'd be how he'd continue to live. But he couldn't quite deny the twisting within his chest; the frustration, the slight rage. He was doing just fine. He was doing him, and that was how it needed to be done. The Pisano family was supposed to be nothing but a memory. If he even wanted to acknowledge that it had happened in the fact place. Truth be told, he didn't. He hated Arabella Pisano, and at this point, he hated Liliana as well. At least that was what he was going to tell himself, instead of accepting the emotion that tap at the organ in the middle of his chest, he hated her. And he hated that he now had to prove a point to her. Although, it was more a point needed to be made for himself then it was for her, but that wasn't a fact Jax allowed to cross his mind. No, instead, he found himself doing exactly what needed to be done to cut this reunion short. And short it would be.

Night fall, it had come rather quickly to Lanford, New York. As it often seemed to for the 6'0 male. It was the time he felt the most at ease in, the darkness washed over him and gave him a sense of comfort he often lacked through out the day. Yet, tonight, it was different. Despite being in his own territory, there was an irritation that ran through his being. This made more evident as he slammed the trunk door of his junk shut, and made his way around to the driver's side. Before whipping the door open, and sliding in, Jaxon had pulled out his phone and sent a text to the current ghost of his past.

'Lets talk. Meet me outside. Five minutes.'

Apart of him almost wanted to believe she'd decline that offer. That she'd come back with an 'I'm busy, or I can't.' Really anything along those lines would've made more sense to him then her actually getting in the car with him. But then again, he had his point to make --- and she had hers. Pulling up to the address he had of hers, he killed the engine, and threw the door open, allowing himself the access to get out of the vehicle. Shoving a hand into the pocket of his jacket, he moved slowly towards the other side of his jeep, dark hues falling upon the familiar figure he used to know so well. One he wished would be nothing but a bad dream, if only he could be that lucky. "Lets go for a ride." He spoke, as he opened the passenger side door and waited for her to make the next move. Once she was inside the car, Jaxon shut the door and proceeded to move around the vehicle, reclaiming the driver's side. There was a momentarily pause, he turned his head slightly towards the other. Silence. That was all he could return to her in those few seconds. And then finally he spoke, "You want to know me?" He asked, not allowing her the time to answer. He knew the answer, he had been listening. "Fine,--" Reaching in between his seat, he pulled out a rolled up stack of paper. Three, maybe four at the most, and tossed it upon Liliana's lap. "--lets get to know me, Liliana." He finished, in the same moment there was a clicking sound that echoed through the jeep. One anyone would recognize in any car they sat in. That of it being locked.

And then they were moving, going from zero to a hundred within a couple of seconds. Jaxon's attention faded onto the road, while the info that laid upon Liliana's lap was that of an article. At least three years old, printed from a news site. 'Male beaten to dead, in front of his two young children.' Followed by another one, 'Local drug dealer charged for the fatal beating of a father of two in North End.' And then another, 'Father of two, could his ties to the selling of drugs be the cause of his brutal death?' And then on the last page, it wasn't so much an article, as it was a picture. A picture of the same man on the first few pages, but this time he was accompanied by a female. She looked happy, elated, but there was a glaze in her eyes, a far away wonderment. And it would almost seem that the male was gripping her tight, as if to keep her upright. The girl was older, not by a lot, but definitely older. Her features hadn't really changed, however, no, within the picture, standing next to the murder victim was Mika Morgan.

[caramelcarmel]

INSTAGRAM

caramelcarmel: Finally cleaned up the spare office and re-arranged my cooking necessities so I can share the space with Jaxon’s techie junk :p. p.s: thank you @jaxon-wynne for the help especially the shelves!

❤ 21 LIKES  ✐19 COMMENTS— view all.

[princessnelrita]

I was tagged by @harleyqiunzel

rules:  enter your answers then tag 10 people! use the first letter of your name to answer each question. real answers only. if the person who tagged you has the same initial, you must use different answers. you cannot use the same word twice.

name: jessica

a four letter word: jerk

a boy’s name: jaxon

an occupation: junk yard worker or janitor 

something you can wear: jumper

a food: jello 

something you find in a bathroom: jar of face cream

a place: jacksonville

a reason for being late: just woke up

something you shout: JOLLY GOOD MATE

a movie title: jeremiah johnson

something you drink: juice

an animal: jellyfish

a type of car: jaguar

title of a song: jesus take the wheel // carrie underwood

I’m going to tag: @emmacharming @parksandresistance @backseatfreedom @minipsychologist @leslieburke @eponizzl @dinahgrandes

[ajinsbf]

mod cycle 1000 aroace alignment chart

these are our hc, pls dont bully us

[swordofvengeance]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐀𝐒𝐈𝐂𝐒 𝐅𝐔𝐋𝐋 𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐄.    gideon alistair knight. 𝐀𝐊𝐀.    gideon, gid, giddyup  𝐀𝐆𝐄.     26, born november 20th, 1993.  𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑 & 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐍𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐒.     cis-male. he + him.  𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍.     bisexual / biromantic.  𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐂𝐈𝐄𝐒.     demigod.  𝐎𝐂𝐂𝐔𝐏𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍.     former bartender, mma fighter, law school student.  𝐏𝐇𝐘𝐒𝐈𝐂𝐀𝐋 𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄 

𝐇𝐀𝐈𝐑.     brown  𝐄𝐘𝐄𝐒.     brown 𝐇𝐄𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓.     6′3  𝐁𝐔𝐈𝐋𝐃.     mesomorph / athletic.   𝐒𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐒.     none. 𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐎𝐎𝐒.     none, yet.  𝐏𝐈𝐄𝐑𝐂𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒.     right nipple and tongue. 𝐅𝐀𝐂𝐄 𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐈𝐌.     brenton thwaites. 

𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐘 

𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐆𝐍𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓.     neutral good. 𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐓𝐒.     adventurous, brave, passionate, comical (at times). 𝐍𝐄𝐆𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐓𝐒.     secretive, jealous, prone to violence, impatient. 𝐇𝐎𝐁𝐁𝐈𝐄𝐒.     mixed martial arts, yoga, running, staying active, reading, painting, attending comic conventions, a plethora of sports.  

𝐌𝐄𝐃𝐈𝐂𝐀𝐋 𝐑𝐄𝐂𝐎𝐑𝐃 

𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐀𝐋.     used to see a therapist once a month during his teenage years for slight anger issues. 𝐏𝐇𝐘𝐒𝐈𝐂𝐀𝐋.     good health. 𝐏𝐇𝐎𝐁𝐈𝐀𝐒.     he’ll tell you he’s not scared of anything but he’s scared of his loved ones dying and enclosed spaces.  𝐄𝐘𝐄𝐒𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓.     20/20. 𝐃𝐎𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐓 𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐃.     right. 𝐃𝐑𝐔𝐆 𝐔𝐒𝐄.     recreational marijuana. 𝐀𝐋𝐂𝐎𝐇𝐎𝐋 𝐔𝐒𝐄.     yes. 𝐃𝐈𝐄𝐓.    healthy food. occasional junk one off days, but pretty healthy.

𝐁𝐀𝐂𝐊𝐆𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃 

𝐁𝐈𝐑𝐓𝐇𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐄.     perth, australia. 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐒.     holden knight (biological father), electra knight (non-biological mother), nemesis (biological mother). 𝐒𝐈𝐁𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒.     jaxon knight, older brother.  𝐏𝐄𝐓𝐒.     a tuxedo cat named harper. 𝐄𝐃𝐔𝐂𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍.     was attending law school. 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐀𝐁𝐋𝐄 𝐒𝐊𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐒.     mixed martial arts, gymnastics, painting. 𝐁𝐈𝐎𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐏𝐇𝐘      

will write that and add it in later. 

[jetfuel-cantmeltsteelbeams]

“West World?”

Timeline: New Court 

Location: Ashlae Summer’s rooms inside the Drigulian Castle

Characters: Arik Avalon, Ashlae Summers, Jaxon Mile 

Song Used: None

Summary: Arik checks in on Ashlae, finding a putrid smell and more hardware than he’d delivered. 

Arik Avalon walked with his hands resting in his pockets. The directions Jake had given him had been complex, the pack leader even confusing himself at times, but really- it had just been a formality. Arik knew the layout of the kingdom as well as he knew the breakdown of his own computer system back at home. Some areas were dark to him, but they were few and far between.

He whistled as he made his way down the thin hallway, knowing exactly how he appeared to the hired help. His jeans were faded and worn down to the threads, though his dressy button down screamed wealth. The gadgets he wore were a startling contradiction to his permanent five o’clock shadow and messy salt and pepper colored hair. There were lines on his face, but his skin was healthy as it was dark from the sun.

He’d just finished whistling on the final note of the Song of Exile when his hand reached for the handle and turned it.

“Holy shit, Rave.”

Ashlae didn’t turn from where she sat at the desk against the far wall, her face uptilted to the five stacked monitors that constantly bled information in the traditional black and green. The room was dark, but everywhere there was a monitor, light poured in just enough for him to see what an utter disaster the room was.

Her desk was pushed against the far left corner, with motors and routers and the Gods knew what else mounted flat against the walls in a maze of wires. To the right corner was a bed under multiple piles of blankets, another monitor mounted so that it hovered over. In the middle of the room sat some sofas and chairs surrounding a coffee table that’s surface reflected a computer with loaded apps.

From where he stood, he could see into the open bath chamber to the right. The entire wall mirror looked like a reflective monitor itself, with marker remains of a half-finished formula hovering mid air.

And in the remaining corner of the room, a literal pile of junk sat piled high as his waist. It all looked like scrap metal and motherboards; the kind even he had trouble getting his hands on.

But it was the smell that hit him hardest. Covering his mouth and nose with a hand, Arik stepped into the room and shut the door behind him. “When was the last time you took a fucking shower?”

Ashlae rose slowly, her eyes never leaving the monitors, as she unfurled from the chair. Her curls had been tied back into a greasy bun, the fly aways matted down with natural oils and a headband he knew must include some new tech gadget she’d incorporated into the design. Her pants were baggy materials- what might have been white sweats once- and held stains of every color on the lap. Her shirt sported an old X-Men logo from the early 2000’s, but it was too dark to really make it out.

Finally, she peeled her eyes off the screens, but he could tell she was having trouble focusing on something that wasn’t back-lit. “Merlin?”

“Come to make real magic happen,” he answered in a choked cough. “This is really disgusting, Ash. You need a bath.” And bleach, but he kept that note to himself. “And where’d you get all of this from, anyway?” She’d only sent him requests for the type of hardware only he could provide, but nothing as big as multiple monitors and full tech gear.

“Jaxon gave me his black card.”

“Did he also show you how to work the shower? Or is that beyond your skill set?” Keeping a healthy distance away, lest the smell overpower him, Arik used both arms to show her the open door to the right. “In your go, before this room is condemned with you still in it.”

Without a fight, she led the way into the bath. Arik followed, stretching his hand as far as he could for her to set her non-waterproof tech in his palm. Both earpieces, the bands around her ankles and wrists, the health patch on her neck and hip.

As she stripped, he rummaged around in the other room for wipes to safely clean the grime off of her gear. “Would you like to catch me up to speed on what exactly it was that kept you from obeying the natural law of hygiene?” As his hands worked to wipe away what looked like days of dirt and grime, he explored and probed around the mess she’d lived in for weeks. With the toe of his boot, he lifted a piece of scrap metal to find what looked like a poorly rendered mechanical spine lying beside the mechanical rendering of a human skull.

He’d always known the caramel goddess had a morbid side, but this was a bit much even for her.

From the next room, he heard the shower turn on. Over the sound of falling water, she shouted her reply. “There’s cats everywhere. Big cats. Like lions.”

Moving to stand by the door, he was careful to keep his eyes averted from the see-through shower curtain while they talked. “Sounds like home to me,” he mumbled to himself as he grinned down at his task.

“There’s angels too,” she continued, “-with wings. Big wings.” In his peripheral, he saw her bend down to pick up a large bottle of what he hoped to be bleach. “I’ve written them into the database for years, Arik. I just… never saw one in person.”

In what he hoped to be a casual tone, he replied, “You’ve known me for years.”

He didn’t have time to duck the bar of soap that came flying from behind the curtain. “Yeah- and thanks for that. I had to find out from Jaxon Mile that you’re one of them.”

Setting the cleaned gear on the counter, Arik picked up the soap and lightly tossed it back over the lip of the curtain without focusing too much on the details of her naked body. “Does that change anything? Are you any less in love with me than you were a few months ago?”

Her scoff sent him into a bout of low chuckles. “If you keep saying shit like that, people are going to think I’m unavailable.”

“Oh, now. That hurt.”

She drew the curtain back to look at him. It was a true test of will to keep his eyes locked on hers. “Can you do it?”

“I can do it very well, from what my partners have told me.”

Her colorless eyes rolled- though he knew there was color in them, if you looked hard enough. The lightest hazel he’d ever seen in the irises of a woman. “Can you shift into… into-”

Leveling his eyes, Arik lowered his chin just a fraction of an inch. “Do you want to see?”

He could see her throat bob as she swallowed, then finally gave the tiniest of nods.

Arik waited until the tension between them built before letting his lips turn up in a feline grin. “Sucks to suck, doesn’t it? I don’t shift without a damn good reason away from my alpha. Those are the rules.”

“Convenient.”

“Disappointed?”

“With you? Always.” She returned the shower curtain as she ducked again under the water.

“Hey- what are you working on in that corner? Are you going West World on me?”

“It’s a surprise.”

“The sexy kind of surprise? Are you making a sex robot? I’m only a call away, you know. I can upload my data into your software anytime, with only a few strokes of my hard drive-”

“This is why I hate men. You’re all pigs.”

“Oink oink.”

[allcheatscodes]

guitar hero on tour nintendo ds

http://allcheatscodes.com/guitar-hero-on-tour-nintendo-ds/

guitar hero on tour nintendo ds

Guitar Hero: On Tour cheats & more for Nintendo DS (DS)

Cheats

Unlockables

Hints

Easter Eggs

Glitches

Guides

Get the updated and latest Guitar Hero: On Tour cheats, unlockables, codes, hints, Easter eggs, glitches, tricks, tips, hacks, downloads, guides, hints, FAQs, walkthroughs, and more for Nintendo DS (DS). AllCheatsCodes.com has all the codes you need to win every game you play!

Use the links above or scroll down to see all the Nintendo DS cheats we have available for Guitar Hero: On Tour.

Genre: Simulation, Musical Instrument / Band Sim Developer: Red Octane Publisher: Activision ESRB Rating: Everyone-10 Release Date: June 22, 2008

Hints

Guitar Hero III Refrence

When in guitar duels and fan says “sign my book”look on the top and it will say Lars Umlaut and onthe bottom it will say Cassy Lynch.

Easy Way To Wammy

Strum a long note, then wammy, and then hold the pick or styles in the center of the guitar and it will wammy for you. NOTE: You cannot use this for star power.

Guitars And Finishes

If you want to find out what you have to do tounlock a certain guitar or guitar finish simply goto the store try to buy said item and then amessage will appear with the requirements.NOTE: (There are only four ways to unlock an item;get 5 stars on 1 song in a certain difficultysetting, get 5 stars in every song in a cd on acertain difficulty setting, completing every songon a certain difficulty setting, and get 5 starsin every song on a certain difficulty setting.)

Easy Way To Sign T-Shirts

When you are in a Guitar Duel, a kind of attack is an exited fan wanting you to sign their T-Shirt. You have to sign your name during the battle you are in which can make you loose points. But the easy way to do it is just to scribble for 2 seconds. That way you can get back to playing the duel!

Easy Way To Wammy

First, find a real long note and wammy like you usually would, then while wammying move your stylus up and hold it at the top of the screen and it’ll keep wammying. If it doesn’t work, then do this,without lifting the stylus wammy a little at the top and stop then it should work.

Easy Way To Hit Two Or More Of The Same Notes

Its simple hold down one button and just strum!

Cheats

Air Guitar

At the main menu, press Blue, Red, Red, Yellow, Yellow, Green.

Unlockables

Johnny Napalm Anarchy Outfit

Get five stars on a CD on hard.

The Real Way To Unlock I’m Not Your Gameboy

Beat Guitar Duels on any difficulty to unlock I’mNot Your Gameboy by Freezepop

Dani California (Red Hot Chili Peppers)

Beat Knock me Down on all difficulties with 5 stars.

Master Of Puppets (Metallica)

Beat the game with the band name Master P.

Crazy Train (Ozzie Osborne)

Beat I don’t wanna stop on all difficulties with 5stars.

Welcome To The Jungle (Guns N Roses)

Beat all songs in career mode with alldifficulties with 5 stars.

Es-335 Guitar

Get a “5 Star” rank on all songs on a CD in Medium mode.

Les Paul Dbl. Cutaway Guitar

Successfully complete all songs in Hard mode.

Moderne Guitar

Get a “5 Star” rank on all songs on a CD in Easy mode.

Synapse Guitar

Get a “5 Star” rank on all songs on a CD in Expert mode.

Vanguard Guitar

Get a “5 Star” rank on a song in Expert mode.

Blue Synapse

Get a “5 Star” rank on all songs in Expert mode.

Custom Cherry Es-335

Get a “5 Star” rank on all songs in Medium mode.

Custom Rising Sun X-plorer

Get a “5 Star” rank on a song in Easy mode.

Ebony Firebird

Get a “5 Star” rank on a song in Medium mode.

Orange Vanguard

Successfully complete all songs in Expert mode.

Pale Yellow Moderne

Get a “5 Star” rank on all songs in Easy mode.

Rootbeer Les Paul Double Cutaway

Get a “5 Star” rank on all songs in Hard mode.

Get Random Junk

You have to beat the first 4 songs and the encore song that’s it. Use the character Gunner Jaxon.

Rootbeer

Earn 5 stars on every song on Hard to unlock a Rootbeer color for your Guitar.

New Guitars

Beat the subway section of any difficulty with all five songs having five stars to unlock a new guitar.

Guitar Hero On Tour

Beat the game on expert and beat guitar duels on expert and unlock the Grim reaper!

Get the song ” I’m Not You’re Gameboy.”

Beat Medium on Guitar Duels.

Easter eggs

Currently we have no easter eggs for Guitar Hero: On Tour yet. If you have any unlockables please feel free to submit. We will include them in the next post update and help the fellow gamers. Remeber to mention game name while submiting new codes.

Glitches

Currently we have no glitches for Guitar Hero: On Tour yet. If you have any unlockables please feel free to submit. We will include them in the next post update and help the fellow gamers. Remeber to mention game name while submiting new codes.

Guides

Currently we have no guides or FAQs for Guitar Hero: On Tour yet. If you have any unlockables please feel free to submit. We will include them in the next post update and help the fellow gamers. Remeber to mention game name while submiting new codes.

[ajinsbf]

heheh