#soa scenario

[mysticalmallard]

♥︎ Spending the night for the first time ♥︎

SoA Taglist: @arkytiorlecter @aimkatsz @ravennaortiz @darqchilddaydreamz @mischiefnevermanaged89-blog

♥︎ If you wish to be added or removed from this taglist comment or message me ♥︎

🦆: This is a new thing I'm trying, group drabbles, so I can write for more characters at once with the same scenario to challenge myself to make each drabble unique from the others....let me know if you want more like this and what scenario you want next ♥︎

♡ This one includes: Tig Trager, Herman Kozik, Jax Teller, Opie Winston, Chibs Telford, Juice Ortiz, Happy Lowman ♡

-> MainMasterlist <- ♡ -> SoA Masterlist <-

Tig Trager

He yawns as he looks at the clock on the wall, noticing the time.

"Damn, it's late. You can take the bed, darlin'. I'll just crash on the couch."

He heads over to the couch and falls, landing on his back. He kicks his legs back and forth dramatically, getting comfortable.

"You don't have to do that Tiggy, is your bed not big enough for two?" She giggles

He smiles and sighs.

"Oh no, it is. I just didn't want you to feel awkward or nothin'. But if you don't mind sharing the bed, I don't mind at all."

He stands and walks into the bedroom, flopping down on the bed.

"But I do wanna warn you. Snorings a huge problem of mine."

He grins, looking up at her.

"And I'm a bit of a cuddler, too."

she laughs, joining him in bed

Tig lays down, pulling her to him. He sighs, resting his chin on top of her head.

Herman Kozik

Koziks girlfriend was spending the night at his place for the first time, and she was both excited and nervous. As she got ready for bed, she couldn't help but feel a little self-conscious in just a oversized T-shirt and panties. "Do I look okay like this?" she asked Kozi, who was already in bed.

Kozi looked up from his phone and smiled warmly. "You look perfect," he reassured her. "I like seeing you in my clothes." He patted the bed next to him. "C'mere."

She smiled back and climbed into bed next to him, snuggling up against his side. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close.

"Relax," he whispered, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "You being here is all I care about."

Kozik chuckled and gave her a playful nudge. "You're so tense. What are you worried about? we've shared a bed before and you know i don't bite... unless you ask me to." His eyes glinted with mischief as he gave her a wink.

She laughed, some of the tension in her body easing at his joke. "I don't know," she admitted, pressing her face into his shoulder. "I guess I just want everything to be perfect. I don't want to mess this up."

Kozi's expression softened. He stroked her hair gently and said, "Hey, there's no such thing as perfect. And you're not gonna mess anything up. I want you here with me, that's all. Just be yourself, and we'll figure it out together, okay?"

Jax Teller

Jax had been seeing his new girlfriend for a few weeks now, and he was falling for her hard. But he was a man who was used to living a certain way, and he knew that spending the night together would change things.

He had a rule - he never let women stay over. But he wanted her to, this time.

He watched her as she got ready to leave, his eyes roaming appreciatively over her body. She looked so beautiful, her hair down and cascading down her back, but there was something deeper than just physical desire.

As she looked up at him, he saw a vulnerability in her expression that tugged at his heartstrings. He wanted to have her close, to protect her, to wake up with her in his arms.

"Stay tonight. Stay with me." His voice was soft and low, the words coming out more like a plea than a demand. Jax knew he was taking a chance by breaking his own rule, but it felt right. The connection he had with her was different from anything he'd ever experienced before.

She looked slightly taken aback by his suggestion. She hadn't expected him to ask her to stay, but now that he had, she found herself contemplating the idea. Staying the night seemed like a big step, a move that would bring them closer together. She knew that if she agreed, things would never be the same between them.

She looked back and forth between his eyes, her expression a mixture of surprise and uncertainty. She had never seen this more vulnerable side of Jax before. For a long moment, it seemed like she was contemplating what to do.

Then, slowly, she nodded her head, her mouth curving up into a small smile. "Okay. I'll stay."

Opie Winston

Opie had never been one for emotional attachments they just didn't seem like a good investment anymore. But then she walked into his life. He hadn't been expecting it, but he found himself drawn to her, the way she smiled, the way she laughed, the way she carried herself.

And now, after weeks of dating, he felt something shift. He found himself wanting her to stay the night. It was a big step for him. It would be the first time sleeping next to someone since Donna.

He nervously cleared his throat, looking down at his hands as he spoke. "So, I know we've been dating for a while now, and things are going pretty well, right? And I was thinking... well, I don't know, maybe you could stay the night? Tonight?"

The words came out more like a question than a statement, and he didn't look up to meet her eye. He was feeling uncharacteristically vulnerable, and he didn't know how she would react.

The silence that hung in the air between them felt like an eternity, and Opie couldn't bear to look up. He braced himself for rejection, ready to laugh it off and brush it off as a joke. But just as he was about to speak, he heard her voice.

"I'd like that."

The words were simple, but they were like a breath of fresh air to him. He looked up, surprise written on his face, as if he hadn't really expected her to say yes. But there she was, smiling at him, her eyes warm and gentle.

"Really?" he asked, still a hint of disbelief in his tone. He ran a hand through his hair, feeling a mix of relief and excitement wash over him.

"Yeah." She confirmed with a laugh. "I'd love to spend the night here with you. I just wasn't sure if you were ready for something like that."

Opie exhaled a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding. "To be honest, I wasn't sure either," he admitted with a sheepish grin.

He reached out and took her hand, intertwining his fingers with hers. "But i'm ready now. I want you to stay. I want to wake up next to you."

Chibs Telford

The evening had drawn to a close and it was well after midnight. Chibs was sat on his couch with his lass, wrapped in his arms and cuddled under a blanket, the two of them watching a random movie on TV. Chibs was slowly tracing patterns on her hip with his thumb as they both stared at the screen in front of them.

“Ye staying over tonight?” He asks in a low voice, glancing down at her.

“Yeah, if that’s alright with you.” She responds, tilting her head up to look into his eyes.

Chibs smiles and nods, resting his chin on the top of her head. “Absolutely.” He says, shifting to pull her tighter against his chest. “That’s fine with me.”

The movie continued on, though Chibs was more focused on his girlfriend than the plot unfolding in front of them. Every now and then, he’d place a soft kiss on her forehead or the top of her head and rub small circles on her hip.

Once the movie finally came to an end, he grabbed for the remote and shut off the TV before shifting to look down at her again. “Ready for bed, darlin’?” He asks in a low voice.

Chibs chuckles softly under his breath as he looks down at her already fast asleep, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. He reaches out to brush a few strands of hair out of her face before carefully maneuvering around her to pick her up in his arms bridal style.

She stirs slightly, burying her face into his chest and wrapping her arm around his neck. He carries her towards his bedroom, kicking the door open with his foot and entering the room. He sets her down on the bed carefully before going around to the other side to lay down next to her.

Chibs wraps his arm around her waist and pulls her closer towards him, her back pressing against his chest. He nuzzles his face into her hair, inhaling the scent of her shampoo.

As he pulls the covers up over them, he can’t help but think about how nice it was to have her there with him. It had been a while since he’d had a woman spend the night with him and he found himself getting comfortable with the idea. He places a soft kiss on the top of her head before closing his eyes and drifting off to sleep with her in his arms.

Juice Ortiz

Juice laid in bed, shirtless with his boxers on. Rubbing his eyes he looked over at his phone and read the time, 10:46pm. He heard the water running in bathroom, he knew his girlfriend was taking a shower.

He groaned and tossed his phone down on the bed, he laid there staring at the ceiling patiently waiting for her to come out the bathroom.

The water finally turned off, he turned to glance at the bathroom door. He heard her humming. He rolled on his back and groaned impatiently. After 10 more minutes of waiting she came out the bathroom, with her hair in a towel already dressed Juice frowned realising he wanted her to stay.

"What are you doing?" Juice mumbled, she glanced over at him smiling. "Getting ready to go home." She stated.

Juice grabbed her wrist and tugged her back down towards him. "Stay." He mumbled with a pout.

"I can't, i have work in the morning" she pouted back, but Juice tugged her until her back was against his chest and his arm was wrapped around her waist.

"Stay the night." He mumbled into her ear.

"Juice" she whined.

"Just this once?" Juice pleaded.

She was about to protest again but his pout and puppy dog eyes made her melt. "Fine" she mumbled, rolling her eyes and juice smirked.

He kissed her shoulder and tightened his grip on her waist. "Good." He mumbled into her skin. He shifted them so they were both laying down and he was spooning her.

"Juice, you got to let me up so I can change again. I'm not sleeping in jeans," she laughs.

Juice groaned and tightened his grip. "No, stay like this." He mumbled, and she laughed some more.

"Come on, I'll be quick." She said while trying to move. Juice gripped her hips and pulled her back to his chest, wrapping his arms around her torso.

Juice buried his face in the back of her neck, inhaling her scent. He kissed a few spots and then planted one final kiss on her shoulder before mumbling against her skin. "You're not going anywhere."

Happy Lowman

Happy was in his apartment on the couch waiting for his girlfriend to arrive. It was the first time she was staying overnight, and he had spent the evening tidying the place up and making sure everything was perfect.

As the clock ticked on as he sat in silence watching it, there was a knock on the door. Happy jumped up from the couch and went to answer it. Standing on the porch was his girlfriend, drenched from the rain.

"Hey Hap, thanks again for letting me crash here I didn't wanna deal with my roommates drama tonight" she says backpack on her damp sholder.

Happy grins, admiring her wet appearance before pulling her inside and closing the door behind her. "It's no problem. I'm glad you're here."

She shivers, and he wraps his arms around her, drawing her close to him."Cold?" he asks, rubbing his hands up and down her back.

She nods, leaning into him, her body still shivering. "Freezing."

Happy smirks and leads her further into the apartment, towards the bedroom. "Let's get you out of these wet clothes then."

They enter his bedroom and he reaches out to unzip her jacket, his hands skimming over her curves as he helps her out of it. Her shirt is next, and he pulls it off over her head, exposing her bare skin to his gaze.

He tosses her one of his shirts from his draws as she pulls her jeans off. She slips the large shirt over her head and onto her body, the soft material falling down to cover her thighs.

He watches her admiringly, his eyes tracing over her figure. "You look better in my shirt than I do," he says with a smirk.

She smiles and rolls her eyes as she playfully swats at him. "Shut up."

He chuckles and pulls her closer, his arms wrapping around her waist. "I mean it, you look good in anything - or nothing."

"Come on we agreed, no more fun stuff until we figure us out" she pouts looking up at him.

Happy sighs and rests his forehead against hers, knowing she's right. "Fine, no fun stuff. But that rule doesn't stop me from being able to admire you." He runs his fingers through her damp hair, his touch gentle as his hands trail down her neck and settle at her hips. He pulls her closer against him, their bodies pressing together.

"I'm still gonna enjoy having you here though," he murmurs, his voice low and gravelly as he pulls her towards the bed.

They crawl into bed together, under the covers. He wraps himself around her, his strong arms enclosing her in a protective embrace. She snuggles into his chest, feeling warm and safe in his arms.

"Mmm, this is nice," she sighs, her breath fanning across his skin.

[prnc-avon]

Something about SOA that I don’t see many people talking about (or i happen to be oblivious to it if they are) is:

How initially, Patroclus is offended by Odysseus’s implication that Achilles is merely a weapon to the army, with the whole “You can use a spear as a walking stick but that doesn’t change its purpose” (i’m paraphrasing here).

But later on in the war, once Achilles refused to fight, Patroclus sees how it impacts the army and pleads with Achilles to fight again.

Could it be possible that Achilles and Patroclus feel equally betrayed in this scenario? The fact that Patroclus is bearing the emotional toll of caring for the injured and dying men as a result of Achilles’s refusal to fight, but also the fact that Patroclus is sharing the perspective of Achilles that he had originally refuted?

I feel like this adds another layer to Achilles character and motive for his lack of action, as opposed to him simply being offended by Agamemnon. It would give a more legitimate reason for him to ignore Patroclus’s pleading beyond his pride.

Please discuss/debate this with me since i haven’t much better to do :)

[bilightningwhumper]

Whump Writing Intro

People who use AI in their writing (generating scenarios, generating story text, etc) please DO NOT follow me or interact with my posts. I absolutely DO NOT consent to any of my writing, posts, or reblogs being used as inputs or data for AI.

Seriously, don't. I don't care your reasoning. Theft is theft. End of story.

Whump writing side blog to @bilightningwriter

Generic writing blog is @bilightningwriter-writing

My blog is majority labeled as Mature or 18+. If you're a minor and interact anyway, on your own head be it.

Ask box is open, but if you do anything with an ask game or prompts list, please tell me which one because I share a lot that inspire me randomly. A lot of the ask games I'll come across I've been tagging with #just tell me it's from this or I'll forget, so that's a good tag to check if you want to do those! Questions about my WIPs are also welcome!

Main writing whump tropes used in no particular order:

institutional whump (partially inspired by the BBU community)

noncon/ nsfw (majority of my noncon scenes are kept to whumpee's perspective only, not the whumper), more explicit in consensual situations, but I am a descriptive writer regardless

Female/lady whump, as well as male and enby whump

Captive whump

Creepy/intimate/manipulative whumpers

Torture whump (more mental and emotional than physical but I do write all of these)

Conditioning whump

Nonhuman whump

Lab whump

What I don't write:

gore

main character death (unless it's a whumper)

explicit underage (try not to, anyway; will have warnings if that occurs)

I also write LGBT+ and/or neurodiverse characters. I enjoy happy endings, so hurt/comfort is big for me. Basically a lot of whump eventually followed with a lot of fluff.

{IMPORTANT NOTE: Because of AI scrapers, all of my fics on Ao3 are avaliable to user-readers only. Remember, you can make an account for free on Ao3 (it's not money-subscription based, it really is just free) with your email.}

My Ao3 Psueds

Works below the cut

[Starting Nov 23rd, 2024, I plan on queuing parts of stories for 5pm EST each Friday/Saturday (Friday if completed in time, Saturday if delayed) to hopefully write at least one piece a week; with the exception of writing events that I join in with]

All characters are LGBT+ and/or neurodiverse unless stated otherwise. If you want to be on a taglist, feel free to dm/pm me or comment on the post, as I don't update on a schedule (just whenever I finish a piece/chapter).

~ ~ will be around whichever story/masterlist I'm fixated on at the moment

Whumpees Masterlists-

~My Lady/Female Whumpee-led Story/Fic Collection~

My Male Whumpee-led Story/Fic Collection

My Enby/Nonbinary Whumpee-led Story/Fic Collection

Main works-

~Belonging to Nightmares: a "12 Dancing Princesses" inspired story~

~BtN Masterlist~

The New Eden Institution series: Omegaverse institutional/nonhuman-adjacent/conditioning whump, retelling Fairy Tales in a Modern Dystopia AU with LGBT+ and neurodivergent characters (more modern than medieval, but you'll see why as stories go on)

TNEI Tumblr Masterlist Ao3 link to series TNEI Ao3 link Masterlist Mangst 2024 Masterlist with this series

Shadow of a Shield: Omegaverse AU with alternate ending to Endgame where some Avengers had unknown children

SoaS Series Masterlist Ao3 link to series (in the process of being rewritten) SoaS Ao3 link Masterlist

Temptations of Fate: Sapphic Romeo and Juliet-inspired angels/demons story

ToF Masterlist

Completed writing events/challenges-

My AI-less Whumptober 2024 Masterlist

Current writing events/challenges I'm doing or finishing-

My Angstober 2024 Masterlist

My Flufftober 2024 Masterlist

Corresponding Ao3 Collections for October 2024 events

I don't know what's going to happen in the coming years, as I live in the USA (even if I'm in a relatively "safe" state). But I plan on writing as much as I can until I can't anymore. If I stop, it won't be because I wanted to.

[garbinge]

Riding With Angels

Jax Teller x F!Reader

Request by: @justreblogginfics​ Scenario #1 Decorating the tree Dialogue #4: "I know we said no presents this year but..."

A/N: Okay so I’m either 2 months late for a holiday fic OR 10 months early... you decide lol. If you know me, you know I can’t write anything without making it angsty. This can be read as a standalone but is meant to be a continuation of Home. Thank you for submitting this... I had a really great time brainstorming this up and writing it!!!

Word Count: 4.1k words

Warnings: All my fics are 18+ regardless of content. Cursing, angst, mentions of death, car/motorcycle accidents. Canon-level angst. 

SOA Taglist: @drabbles-mc (happy to add anyone to any future SOA fics!)

The atmosphere had everything going for it to be the perfect holiday evening. There was Christmas music playing lightly in the background, the kids and you had baked cookies and attempted to make gingerbread houses during the day. You had started to hang up some string lights throughout the windows in the house, but currently you were staring at the tree. Abel was dancing around the fake pine roping tinsel around it as Thomas was picking through the storage bin of Christmas items with likely no thoughts but what would taste good. It was a picture perfect moment, but you couldn’t help but miss Jax. You hoped the kids didn’t feel the absence of their father as much as you did but unfortunately that wasn’t the case. A little hand tugged at your shirt, the motion caused you to shake yourself from your thoughts and look down at Abel. 

“When’s daddy coming home?” 

The question left a weight on you. Your eyes moved over to the clock that sat above the entryway table. 8:17PM. It was technically still early, you thought, even though you knew you were kidding yourself. You always found yourself in this position, waiting on Jax. You were brought back to reality when the doorbell rang. 

“Daddy will hopefully be home soon, baby.” You picked him up to offer a little bit of comfort to the kid before making your way to the door. 

“Is that him?” Abel said as the doorknob turned. Gemma appeared through the door with her keys in hand. “Grandma!” he called out and wiggled out of your grip. 

Gemma hugged the boy as he collided with her while you went to grab Thomas to say hello. 

“Sorry to drop by unexpectedly,” Gemma said as she made her way to the living room. 

“Are you?” You subtly snapped. 

Gemma looked at you with annoyance and a little shock in her eyes. It wasn’t like you to act like that, while you had your opinions on Gemma, especially after reading John Teller’s manuscript, you never showed your cards to her. It honestly had nothing to do with being scared of her, which is what Gemma probably thought, it had to do with the kids, with Jax, the family you built together and the plans you and Jax had for the future, not showing your true thoughts and feelings was for that reason only. And even with all of that in mind, you did love the woman, just not her choices in life. But at this moment, you were taking out your anger on Jax and the club on Gemma. 

You quickly responded “I’m sorry, I’m in a mood.” 

“Rare for you.” The statement usually would have been sarcastic out of the older woman’s mouth but she meant it, because you always were able to put on a face. Before you could continue to talk, Abel was dragging both you and Gemma into the living room begging for you to help with the tree decorating. 

Your eyes were focused on the dish in front of you. It was sparkling clean but you were scrubbing furiously as a way to get your frustration out. The kids were in the living room still with Gemma, you weren’t sure if they were still decorating the tree or had moved on to something else, but as long as Gemma had them under her supervision, your mind couldn’t bring itself to focus on that. You took the opportunity to be by yourself and be upset, you didn’t like showing that to the kids, between that and everything with Gemma you felt like there were rare and few times in between that you could be your true self. If anything, Jax was really the only person you were your true self with and with him being MIA more often than not these days made you feel like you were losing a part of yourself. Which is why you were taking it out on the dishes. You hated the fact you were losing yourself over a boy. And yes, you understood it was deeper than that. It wasn’t just a boy. It was your family. But nothing took the sting of that away. 

“Looks pretty clean to me.” Gemma’s voice sounded from behind you.

You took a large sigh and looked back at her over your shoulder. “Where are the kids?”

“Playing in the living room, Abel wanted to wait till Jax came home to finish the tree.” Gemma said, leaning against the counter with her arms crossed. 

You mumbled under your breath, something that Gemma didn’t hear but she definitely understood what was happening.

“You gonna keep sulking or tell me what’s on that pretty lil mind of yours.”

You kept your mouth shut and moved back to a different dish in the sink, you weren’t going to entertain her on this because she wasn’t approaching the situation from a place with care, she was being nosy. 

“You know that ring on your finger doesn’t change anything.” 

And apparently now she was being mean. You stopped dead in your tracks, your eyes moved down to your left hand where the silver engagement band glistened under the running water. 

“It’s the same Jax. Same club. Same ways of working. There’s gonna be late nights, sweetheart, that’s why you’re here, for the kids, for the house, you keep the foundation solid and they bring the money home for you to keep things solid. The ring doesn’t change that, if anything it makes it more prevalent.”

Boiling. Your blood was boiling. Now your thoughts of losing yourself were being taunted by the thought of being just a housewife, just someone’s old lady. 

Gemma might have been right in her time, even if the irony of the fact that she had never been one to sit on the sidelines, she might as well be patched with the sway she had on the men in the club, Jax included. 

“You realize you’re lecturing me because I’m upset Jax wasn’t here to decorate the tree with his kids.”  You turned to her, you started out the night giving her attitude and you weren’t going to stop now. “You talk about keeping this solid,” you waved your hands around the room, “how do I do that when my kids are asking about Jax all day long?”

“Your kids?” Gemma smiled.

You turned around again back to facing the sink and shook your head. “Why do you start these conversations when you just want to argue, your goal in this is to just come out on top. Those ARE my kids, Gemma. I feed them, I spend my days with them, my nights with them, I placed them in the best schools, best daycares, they call me mom for fucks sake.”

Gemma walked over to you, in a Teller attempt to apologize and clarify herself. 

“Those ARE your kids.” She said, “It’s just shocking to hear you say it.” 

“Shocking?” you turned realizing now, how close she was to you. 

“You’re very hard to read, you know.” She cocked an eyebrow up. 

That made you laugh, “I know what you’re saying, about keeping things solid, but you out of all people should know that it's different when they’re at the position they’re in. I’m not just a Son’s old lady. I’m the VPs old lady. I’m Jax Teller’s old lady.” 

“You aren’t just marrying the man, baby. You’re marrying the club.” 

Those words weighed heavy on you. You weren’t marrying the club. You and Jax had long conversations about leaving the club which is why you were feeling how you felt. Everything felt backwards, he was spending long nights doing club things, it seemed like he was getting deeper in the club when he was promising you that he was getting out. But in Gemma’s eyes that was fact so you quickly flipped a switch. 

“You’re right, sorry Gem. Just the holidays and stuff make it harder, you know.” You shrugged and dried your hands off. 

“C’mon, let’s get back to the boys.” Gemma tried to move past this whole conversation like nothing happened. 

“I’m gonna make myself a cup of coffee, I’ll meet you there in a minute.” You said with the best smile you could. 

You made your way to the kitchen table with your cup of coffee. Slamming your head against the table seemed like a viable option right now, but instead you opted to rub your temples. 

The door opened, causing your head to jerk up to see who it was. Even though there was only one person left who it could be, it was still surprising to see Jax at the door. Opie was behind him, both of them looking like they had the longest night of their life. Abel’s voice filled the entire house as he screamed in joy. 

“DADDY!!!!” His little feet making quick stomping noises as they darted toward his father. 

A smile grew on Jax’s face immediately, he bent down to catch Abel in his arms. At this point, Jax was already past the opening in the entryway that led to the kitchen, leaving you unnoticed in the kitchen. 

“Someone was waiting for you to come home so you could decorate the tree.” Gemma’s voice was low but you heard it. Your anger boiled in your throat again, that wasn’t for Gemma to tell, that was for you to tell, but you didn’t even get greeted in your own home yet so what did you honestly expect. 

Opie looked into the kitchen, his eyes taking in the scene of you. Clocking your frustration straight away, he called to Jax and nodded his head into the kitchen. Jax’s head peaked in and his expression dropped seeing you at the table. With a deep sigh, he entered the kitchen. 

“You want a cup of coffee?” Your feet were pushing up from your seat and making their way to the coffee machine before you could think, you knew that one hug from Jax and you’d be pushed over yet again. 

“I wanted to say hello to my wife.” You could hear how he was trying to work you in the tone of his voice. 

“Fiancé.” You corrected him and handed him a mug. 

His eyebrows raised, and a smirk played on his face. “I stand corrected.” A hand moved up in surrender while the other one gripped the coffee mug. 

You could hear Gemma and the boys playing together and Opie’s voice with them too. Now that was rare. Opie barely played with his own kids let alone Jax’s, which got you going down the rabbit hole of what that meant and how if Jax’s best friend could so easily dive back into the club after being so against it, was that what was happening with Jax. 

“What’s going on with you?” He asked genuinely. 

“What’s not going on, Jax? It’s fucking Christmas time and you’re barely home,” you paused to whisper your next sentence, “you told me you were done with this shit and now you’re deeper in than ever and you’re pushing me out, I don’t know anything that’s happening.” 

Jax understood your pain, but he wasn’t going to subject you to the club dramatics, he knew what he had to do to get out and he was doing it, despite what it might have looked like. 

“I’m sticking to our plan” His voice was firm. 

You shook your head and rolled your eyes. “Our plan.” You laughed like that actually meant something. 

“Darlin’.” He was getting annoyed but trying to meet you halfway or somewhere.

“No, Jax. This isn’t something you can just sweet talk your way out of. This is our fucking life.” 

“Do you trust me?” He said, stepping towards you. 

“Less and less everyday.” You said truthfully and it pained his heart but he did understand. “But, yes. I do.” 

Jax peered into the living room, seeing Gemma in deep conversation with Opie. 

“You out of all people should know why I can’t just leave, why I have to leave everything in a good place. This was the last thing my dad had. I didn’t get a house or some real estate investment when he died,  this is what he left me. The club was his and I can’t just let it die because I want out.”

There was so much to argue with what he said, you read that manuscript and even though JT had blueprinted a way for the club to earn legit, you also knew that he ended it wanting to burn it all down. Jax believed that was just a desperate man angry at the world who knew he was on borrowed time, but you knew it was the writing of a man who had exhausted every option. The only reason you didn’t have it in you to say that to Jax was because you got it. This was what bonded you two. This was how you met and got to talking all those years ago…bonding over dead fathers and the irony of how they both had gone from motorcycle accidents. That day you met in the Harley shop, you both stood in the plaque aisle getting something to honor them. The very thing that glued you two together was the very thing tearing you apart.

You understood the pain of trying to live in their honor, do things to carry out their legacy. In fact, it was probably why you were so eager to get out of this horror of a town. But the same very thing is what was keeping Jax here. 

“I know I didn’t know JT, but, I can’t imagine he’d want you drowning, Jax. Exhausting your options is exactly what he did, there becomes a point where you have to recognize that before you end up like both of our fathers...” 

“Riding with Angels.” He finished your sentence looking at the two plaques that had brought you two together that hung in the kitchen. “That’s not gonna happen. Please, that’s why Opie’s here, I briefed him on everything tonight, I’m gonna give him JT’s book and just it’s gonna be fine, I need you to believe that.” Jax was begging you. 

Looking into his eyes, you saw he needed that faith. You thought back to what Gemma had said, that you need to be solid, be the foundation and keep things stable at home. Hating to admit it, but she was right. Even though she had no clue what was truly happening, she was right. And you hated that. 

But there was nothing you could do, and that’s what you hated even more. 

Feeling defeated, you stepped towards him, letting your hand raise and sit on the left side of his kutte, your fingers lightly swiping over the redwood original patch. Slowly your hand moved down to  grip his arm that was holding the coffee mug, your gaze moved up to his eyes, blue as ever, you wished you could get lost in them like you used to, before looking into Jax’s eyes felt like euphoria, it felt like young and wild passion, but lately it felt like you were drowning, looking into them was like a high tide pulling you back in deeper and deeper each time until you were drowning. And they did, because as you looked into them, you gave up and let the waves of baby blue take you in. “Tell your mom to go home, give Opie the manuscript, and decorate the tree with me and the kids.” You demanded those three things, if you were going to give him another chance you at least needed to feel like you were in charge. “I’ll be in the bedroom, waiting, I can’t look at either of them right now.” 

Truthfully, you would have said that about anyone associated with the club. You felt defeated, broken, and like you had lost the biggest game of tug o war. Realizing the club took priority over you was a reality that slapped you across the face every time and looking at Gemma and Opie was just pouring salt into that wound.

He tried to smile down at you, trying to offer compassion even though truthfully he was glad that a fight didn’t escalate and he had the opportunity to show you he had everything under control.

You escaped to the bedroom, not even glancing up to Opie and Gemma as you walked down the hallway, their eyes were burning into you but still you didn’t even look through your peripheral vision. 

As you stood in your shared bedroom, part you thought to pack your shit up and leave, you could go through the window, take only what you needed and just leave it all behind. You stared at the open closet where your suitcase sat, it was covered by Jax’s duffel, the irony behind it all. Before you could have a thought more, you felt a tug at your pants. As you looked down into the little eyes that were staring back up at you, every thought of leaving escaped you. There was a slight giggle out of his mouth as he tucked his head into you. A pang of guilt hit you for a moment, that you even thought about leaving. If Jax’s eyes were the high tide drowning you, Abel’s were the breath of fresh air to save you. 

“Daddy says to come out to the tree.” The boy hid his face again with a giggle.

“Oh, really? Are we going to finish decorating it all together?” You asked bending down to his level. 

“He said Santa gave him something to give to you.” 

“Santa, huh? I can’t believe daddy knows Santa!” You teased the boy, he laughed and pulled your arm because he seemed eager to see what it was. “Come on, let’s go.” You said picking him up and walking out to the living room. 

Jax had been placing ornaments on the tree with Thomas who was trying to pull them off. 

“I hear Santa gave you a gift for me.” Your voice had changed, it wasn’t as lively as it was when you talked with Abel but it also wasn’t as rigid as when you were talking to Jax. Somewhere in the middle of that was where you were now. 

Jax smiled, and bent down to grab a black bag that was under the tree. "I know we said no presents this year but...Santa doesn’t listen.” Jax smirked as he handed the package over to you. “Santa also didn’t have time to wrap it.” He smiled, his grin was shit eating and if he didn’t have Thomas in his arms you would have pushed him back slightly but you just shook your head and took the black bag in your free hand, the one that didn’t have Abel. 

It was a pretty big package, decently heavy. You placed Abel down, he started decorating the tree, handing ornaments up to Jax and Thomas as you stared at the bag. 

“You gonna open it or what?” Jax asked, still grinning. 

“Open it! Open it!” Abel jumped up and down. 

With a deep sigh you grabbed what was inside the black bag to find another bag around whatever the item was. This bag however, was clear with the words ‘EVIDENCE’ printed across it. There was some writing on the white printed square on the front of the bag. A frown filled your face, a fucking evidence bag? What was Jax thinking? Your eyes scanned over the bag reading the red marker notes. 

April 28th, 1994 Highway 99 Marker 78 TOD: 11:37

This was all the information of when your father died, your heart started beating faster as you started to come to terms with what this was. Your hand opened the evidence bag and met the fabric from inside. The feeling of the worn leather and patches felt like the cure you needed. It sent something over your entire body. Just when you thought that nothing could beat this feeling, you took it out of the bag. The smell of your father’s cologne was still faint on the fabric but strong as it hit your nose. The tears built up as you let the evidence bag fall to the ground and the leather jacket fully drop open. The brown leather was so worn, it had seen a lot over the years of your father wearing it, many highways, many states. The patches each had a story of their own. Most of them coming from the different states he had traveled to, Nevada, Texas, Arizona and more. Some to honor his time in the military and service to the county. Some just for decoration, a skeleton’s middle finger, a bear with it’s teeth showing, a compass. Then your hand passed over the patch you gifted him when you were a kid. #1 Dad. It was worn, more worn than you had remembered, but that’s when you saw the scuff from the accident. It had ended where the #1 Dad patch was, expanding across a large amount of other ones, making them have loose stitching where the leather was scratched. The pavement probably ripping the threads from them off as he slid against it from the accident. It offered you a bit of closure, seeing how it all happened. You had begged the police department for more information besides a crash, the report you saw didn’t even have an officer sketch of the accident and since foul play was a potential factor, they had kept all the evidence. You gave up years ago trying to get the evidence from lockup, but somehow it was sitting in your hands right now. 

Looking up from jacket, your eyes blurry from tears, you stared at Jax. 

“How?” It was the only word you could get out of your mouth. 

Jax placed Thomas on the ground to crawl around, and turned up the Christmas music so it would be harder for them to hear what he was gonna say. 

“Unser owed me one. He was able to pull a few strings at the Stockton State Trooper station. That’s why I was home late tonight, Ope and I went to pick it up and got stuck in traffic on the 99, construction shit.” 

You were in awe. After everything you tried, after all these years, you had his jacket in your hand, you had closure in your heart, something that almost felt unreal. 

“Unser has the police report, the real one. Figured you’d want the choice to look at it,” he started to explain, “that and it wasn’t up for civilian grabs.” He shrugged his shoulders. “Thought the jacket would be more of a heartwarming gift. There’s something in the inside pocket, too. Pictures. I didn’t look through them, I just wanted to make sure it was really it, based on what you’ve told me.” 

“Jax–I,” you had no words, you brought your hands up to wipe the tears from your eyes. 

“Why is mommy crying?” Abel said trying to raise his voice over the music. 

“Santa got me a really good gift, Abel.” You said looking directly into Jax’s eyes. “Something she’d been asking for for a long long time.” 

“Does that mean Santa is going to get me a skateboard this year?” Abel asked excitedly. 

You and Jax both let out a laugh, yours was cutting through the tears. “Thank you. So much.” You mouthed to him, it was all you could offer up with how much emotion you were feeling. 

Jax just shook his head with a nod, like it was nothing, a simple favor but he knew how much it meant to you.

“Come on, let’s finish decorating this tree.” Jax’s voice got higher as he spoke to the kids, picking Abel up to get the candy cane ornament near the top of the tree.

After placing the jacket safely on the couch for now, you picked Thomas up, so the 4 of you could all be at eye level. You looked over at Jax who was laughing about something with Abel. The music had changed, one of your favorite Christmas songs playing in the background. As the latest laugh left Jax’s mouth, his eye caught yours and he looked at you. Like really looked at you.

The blue eyes you were staring at weren’t trying to drown you in that moment anymore, they had a tint of hope and glimmer in them. You didn’t feel like the tide was trying to bring you in, you felt like maybe they were saving you. So for what you told yourself would be the last time, you forgave Jax, and more importantly you believed Jax. Because he had proven to do the impossible tonight for you, he must have been able to do it again for your family. Right?

[forestshadow-wolf]

Another ghost+soap idea because I apparently can't stop giving them the ouchies. This one's a long one.

Ok a while back I on here I said that I hc that soap has a scar on his hand that he got b4 he met ghost. I'm changing that now because I can't stop hurting my boy bubbles

They're sent out on a mission, just the two of them. Price didn't want to send them, it seemed shady, but the higher-ups forced his hand. Intel was limited, backup would be unable to reach their position for days should it be needed, and exfil would be too far to reach in an emergency.

Price was told that the higher-ups needed soap and ghost's exact skill set. As much as price hates it, he is unwilling to send someone incompetent, so he sends his two best soldiers.

~~~

Soap lay flat next to ghost, scope to his eye, as he'd been doing for the last 3 days. They were stationed deep in some foreign mountain range, watching a small group of buildings. Price said he thinks it's a research facility. They were meant to figure out what was being researched, gather what other info they can find, then blow the place sky high.

The place was heavily gaurded, which is what attracted their attention in the first place. Normally soap would be capable of soloing the mission, but there were aspects that would put ghost's skills and experience to use. With the terrain and his pack full of explosives he'd need to be extra careful, which ghost could help with.

They'd been sat in their position for 3 days, watching the guard rotations, trying to find an opportunity to slip inside. Higher-ups had put him in a tight spot in terms of method of explosion, with regulations and everything, they refused to loosen up on. With such short notice, Soap grabbed what he could, as he packed but...

They'd been there for 3 days, ample time to run the numbers and do the calculations. Ample time for him to think up twenty different ways to not succeed. The gaurds would make positioning and timing difficult, not to mention the size of area he had to demolish with his limited supplies, and there was always the chance of underground expansion that they couldn't account for. There just wasn't enough to go around, and it was making him antsy.

---

For 3 days ghost lay prone, next to soap, looking through his scope trying to map out gaurd routines.

Six days and fifteen hours ago price had called both himself and Soap into his office. He informed them of a mission, pushed to priority on short notice. It required the best of their skills.

They had barely three hours to pack, before a twelve hour flight, which led to a three day hike, plus three days of waiting lead them to now.

They had limited supplies, the higher-ups hadn't bothered to clear them for more than the standard. Which was fine for ghost's part, he'd had to do far longer with far less. But soap wasn't so happy. It seemed okay until soap began running numbers.

There wasn't enough material, and too much space. Soap was getting agitated, he could tell because he'd been quiet for 2 days. Mouthing numbers, and scenario to himself, but none of it worked. He never said anything to ghost though.

---

On the 4th day they packed up, they'd move in come nightfall. Soap would follow ghost's lead, planting what he had along the outskirts. He still couldn't figure out how to blow the rest of the area. He'd just have to hope to find something along the way.

They stashed their packs, tents and other supplies a few miles down the mountain, where they could quickly grab it on the way to exfil. The trek back gave took enough time that they had just enough time to check their weapons and ammo one more time before they needed to move.

The tower guards were easy enough to snipe from their elevated position, and they were far enough away that there was no one to hear their shots. As soon as they were down ghost set about, clearing the area in a spiral pattern, stopping when soap signaled just long enough to set the charges.

By the time they reached the middle, soap had long since run out of all but one charge, and he warned ghost as such. The man paused, and the bottom of his mask shifted slightly, before he nodded and continued forward.

The large center building, evidently used for some kind of research, was more heavily guarded that the rest of the area. Not really a problem for them though, nothing they haven't handled before. Again Ghost took point while soap watched his 6, it was routine. They went room by room, slowly, collecting whatever intel of other information they could.

One room they came across looked to be a storage room for chemicals and other such materials. Ghost was about to move on, but Soap stopped him. Maybe he could see if they had any kind of chemical accelerant, or atleast make one. If he could they'd have to go back and reset all the charges, it was a risk, but if it meant a mission success...

Ghost took watch while he scanned shelfs of chemicals. He got lucky with a number of them, and immediately he began doing calculations. This could work. Only thing he needed now was a bunson burner. Which evidently was not in the room, as he searched more and more frantically.

Ghost seemed to notice his agitation because he told him to grab what he needed at move of, soap listened, if slightly unhappily.

The next few rooms they cleared were, luckily, pretty sparce. Much to their luck they did stumble across a lab room, which soap made them stop in. The chemicals he took, if done correctly, could be made into a highly reactive sticky paste. A paste that if he used efficiency could spread their charges up to twice or even 3x the area.

If time was on their side he'd have had half a mind for proper protection and measuring equipment for the chemicals, but it wasn't. So in lieu of personal safety he shucke off his gloves, as it was easier to feel out the correct measurements without them.

In a too quick pour a spash of chemicals landed on the webbing of his hand between the thumb and forefinger. It burned as it it foamed down the back of his hand, and ran a stripe down his palm. Too focused on watching two liquids thicken as he mixed them together to notice.

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

This isn't done yet, but I want to get it out of my drafts and this is a kinda good stopping place. I'll probably just reblog this when I have the next part... maybe

[shallowrambles]

Soas not to hijack this lovely post about Ruby's manipulation...

This goes back to the generic-fandom tendency to see absolutist truth in the mouths of villains instead of a layer of truth or an unflattering reflection of a character's hidden anxiety.

The villains so often chisel out the most uncharitable, two-dimensional explanation of a situation, and even utilize an underlying hang-up, like Sam's issues about feeling like a poverty-stricken, podunk outsider, "a freak."

And the thing is, sometimes the villain's interpretation is just flat-out wrong!

///

Other times, it's a flattening of multiple complex, sometimes competing, truths, like how AU Michael acknowledges Dean's probably-real, underlying issues

of feeling like Sam is a burden who abandons him

that Jack is a burden he didn't ask for

that Cas is someone he owes everything to but who also hides things and makes mistakes over and over

But those are just a tiny portion of what Dean feels, and so you get this messed up, black-and-white, face-value interpretation of a situation.

Everyone has fleeting feelings of negativity. Sometimes, we even have drawn-out pity parties and languish in our worst thoughts. Sometimes, we all long for escape and easier lives, and that includes the love and work we put in to maintain our cherished relationships. We wish it could be easier, or that we could get away from it all.

But the thing is, we know Dean wasn't happier when it was just him and John, and extrapolating that, we know he was indeed grief-stricken by Jack's death and he does indeed want Castiel around just as much as he is grateful for his heroics and frustrated by their past baggage.

Real relationships have baggage. This is a theme that optimism and Amara's idealization of her nursery warn us about! We are supposed to beware of this kind of figmentary Apple White Romanticization/White Picket Fence Idealization.

Anyhoo...

///

Ruby uses insecurity to great effect. She plays Sam, disrespects Sam, and puffs up her plans as the right ones.

///

So does Zachariah, throughout his entire tenure.

We got our vintage, classist Zach, who showed Dean a world where not protecting Sam led to a devil-incarnate-Sam. And the other half of this nightmare scenario is the degradation of Cas, that staying with Cas would literally turn him into a performing!Dean 2.0 to the power of ten.

This never never happened, because it was a reflection of Dean's fear. In fact, when Cas broke bad, he broke bad in his own unique, tyrannical Chuck-adjacent way, not Dean's mode of fatalism. He never even saw it coming the way that it came!

///

We also saw Zach turn his shit on Adam, hurling classist stereotypes about his half-brothers and trying to demean them in such a way as to get Adam to lose hope in them and in their hope of rescuing him.

///

Then, we got the cruel, torturous Good Intentions AU version of Zach:

JACK: What about Sam and Dean? ZACH!CASTIEL: Well, if only they’d accepted you, instead of teaching you to fear your powers. JACK: My powers… ZACH!CASTIEL: Because they feared them. Now, if you’ll just do as I say—

We know that Sam, Dean, and Jack's powers is more complicated than simple fear, though fear is an undeniable layer of it!

///

Anyhoo. This tension.

It's why characters like AU Michael and season 15's Belphegor do what they do!

You're supposed to wonder, "Hey, wait a minute. That's not the full scope of the situation here, is it? That's not how life is. Life is waaaaay more complex. My feelings are letting me see the absolute worst of the situation!"

[might-be-tiny-gt]

G/t WAC: Prompt 1

Post Your Comfort Fic

Super late to this, I know but better late than never.

Firstly wanted to shout out @creatorofuniverses Spirit of Adventure and its sequel Winter of our Discontent which I’m linking bellow

Any murder mystery lovers out there? These are the fics for you! The story follows Nettle a viri (basically a borrower) who can speak to ghosts. Imagine what happens when he gets roped into helping a bunch of cops with a case they thought was open and shut but is way more complicated than they could have ever anticipated. Add in Sheila, Nettle’s ghost friend AND BEST GIRL and you have a fun time.

Love rereading this one it’s just a fun take on the typical tiny gets found by human scenario and god I love Nettle so much. Like he’s tiny but he’s not gonna take shit from anyone, he has so much sass in him I love it. Please go read it!

[drabbles-mc]

black yellow white for the fic ask game :3

ahh hello! 💞

🖤 Black: Do you think about your story when you're not physically writing it? Does it help with plotting scenes, character arcs, etc.?: I am thinking about stories all the time!! pretty much anytime i am passively daydreaming, i am thinking about different fics. i think it definitely helps with my writing process. thinking about stories and characters outside of the time when I'm actually sitting down with an open word doc takes some of the pressure off and helps me think about a lot of things that might not make it into the story but still really help me feel out certain plots and characters!

💛 Yellow: Do you ever alter, highlight, or de-emphasize certain canonical traits in a character? If so, why and describe how.: I think this is something that almost all fanfic writers do to varying degrees. depending on the canon and character you're writing versus what kind of fic you'd like them in, it's almost just naturally bound to happen. i try not to do this so much that a character becomes unrecognizable, though. certain characters i will downplay certain traits if I'm putting them in scenarios really far outside what we see them doing/dealing with in canon. or if i think certain traits will really help move a story forward i'll lean into them more than what we see on the screen. being a fan of a lot of Criminals Doing Bad Things Media, and writing mostly romance stories for them, it is borderline inevitable that i make these dudes a little more lovey and soft than their canon selves. 😂 i like to think that it's not too unbelievable though. but then again it's what a lot of us are here for lmao

🤍 White: What's a fanfic scenario or idea you'd like someone else to write so that you can read it?: oh my god i feel like there are so many of these that i can't even try to narrow it down 😂 i think that a lot of story ideas that i'd love to read from someone else are just different takes on things that happen pre-canon in a lot of the shows that i watch. doesn't have to be full-fledged back to childhood or whatever. but like with mayans or soa, the years that spanned angel, coco, and gilly prospecting??? or what it was like in the club right after jax and opie patched in?? idk i just love that kind of stuff. i know that tumblr tends to be a pretty readerfic-heavy site (i say this as someone who reads and writes a lot of it lmao) but i dooooo love those sort of canon-character-based fics and twists on canon

thank you so much for these! they were a blast to answer 💖

Put a color in my inbox!

[mysticalmallard]

Katherine Luann Morrow

☆★-> // SOA Masterlist// <-★☆

All posts where Katherine appears:

(each can be read as a stand alone or as a series, and I will do my best to keep them listed here in chronological order)

♡ Fun and Responsibility

♡ Princess Band-aids Can Fix Broken Hearts

♡ Muffin Dragon and Blue Bunny (new)

♡ Hopscotch Headache

♡ Too Young For Boys

♡ Freedom and Florals

♡ Boxes and Orange Juice

♡ Flower Crowns

♡ Flower Crowns Pt.2

Daughter to Clay and Gemma

There is a 14 year age gap between her and Jax she was born a year after JT died 👀

Works as an assistant to the town florist Mrs Miller she is very stern and disapproving of the club and their activities.

Mrs Miller and the florists v

Her parents, Jax, and all of the club are very protective of her she doesn't hang around the club house much outside of lockdowns and charity events.

She has her own apartment on the quieter side of town, which she has turned into her own cosy sanctuary, and occasionally used as a place for an outer chartermember to lay their head, wash their clothes, catch a shower and some food as they only have 2 dorm rooms at the club.

(As I think that's what the family members of the club would do its just expected of them I think, and as she is the daughter of a founding member and the president anyone who stays are very respectful)

Her apartment inspo:

Chibbs, Bobby, Tig, Otto, and Piney are like her Uncles as they watched her grow up from a baby and often watched her when her parents asked.

Out of all the other club members, excluding her dad and brother, she is closer to Juice as when he was prospecting he was told to help her move out into her apartment and whenever the florists had a big order she'd often borrow the club van and he'd be the one to drop it off and stay for a chat.

If you have any questions or want to request a scenario about Katherine, feel free to put them in my ask box. I'll do my best to answer them as quickly as I can.

[ghostofadragon]

pspspsps tell us more about the dragons pspsps. Do the dragons see their riders as siblings since they grew up together? Are Sinclair and Queen bonded since they werent raised together?

DRAGON RIDERS: yes and no? i hadn't been mentally comparing them to siblings as such, though it's probably not far off; dragons and riders have a kind of exclusive interpersonal bond that is hard to categorize by comparison. think, like, pacific rim jaeger pilots, almost, but if the jaeger was also sentient. dragons are dubiously sentient in the SoA universe: they're not unintelligent, but so many of their mental pathways and communication methods are fundamentally alien from how humans operate that they're not really thought of as one-to-one the same thing.

when left to their own devices dragons communicate mainly through a dragon-specific body/sign language that could be compared to human sign languages (they've developed a modified (lack of tail wings etc) version of this to communicate with humans) and a sort of natal version of the neural link, which bonds mothers to their children - in dragons this fades quickly with age, but when humans originally arrived on alcoritrés they began to develop over the generations a kind of permanent interspecies version of it - sort of like how cats will meow at humans as they would their kittens.

the kind of dragon-rider neural bond that's seen in the Institute is cultivated specifically for combat reasons and isn't particularly common to see in other places: most "civillian" bonds are either a milder version of an infant bond, developed over extended exposure and/or a shared violent trauma (this is what Sinclair and Queen have), or a "true" infant bond, which often occurs when a baby and a wyrmling are raised together in a place where they have regular contact. outside of the institute dragons are treated as free citizens alongside humans, and while not a universal standard by any means, joint dragon/human households or communes are common enough to be thought of as fairly normal.

civilian infant bonds are made of the same building blocks as Institute bonds, but civilians are not exposed to the same kind of rigorous lifelong bonding and training exercises as Institute kids, and thus their bonds very rarely reach the same complexity and depth - unless in some scenario in which they were left alone and had to depend on the other for survival, hunting, etc. Institute dragon/rider pairs are very much thought of as "freaks" by their respective populations - the riders are too 'dragon' and the dragons are too 'human'.

human riders are stereotyped as stoic and odd - in reality they share a kind of sub-dialect of the human commontongue and dragon body-language that often results in them communicating the same ideas with far fewer spoken words. Institute dragons are 'othered' much the same by the outside dragon population - they have uncommonly 'human' mannerisms and often default to speaking in a dialect of their body-language that is modified to read easier to humans, and relies more heavily on complex forelimb signals than movement of dragon-specific anatomy like tails and wings.

[razrbladekiss]

TYRANTS | Chapter Eighteen - Tolerate It

WORD COUNT: 2.2k

WARNINGS: just some almost smut, strong language, jax and tig, the usual SOA shit. enjoy :)

And come morning, Tig's stomach was in knots.

It was a full-throated affliction. Like he had been struck with a machete, beaten and bludgeoned, left for dead in one of Charming's many arid backstreets as the perpetrator got away.

Only, the convoluted scenario that festered away inside of his brain was but a convoluted scenario. Something that he had spent hours curating, dwelling on while Isla had remained sound asleep and fastened to the left side of his chest, blissfully unaware of the way that her profession had rocked his entire fucking world.

He felt the walls of sanity collapse around him, the more he thought about what she had said. Like he was completely unable to uphold even a mask of lucidity, or something remotely reminiscent of calm.

And all he wanted to do was extrapolate his innermost thoughts to Isla, though he was certain she hadn't managed to cling to a single memory from the night before.

Partially because, had she recognized the weight of what she once blurted, she would have blushed her way through the morning and cringed all the way to the Clubhouse. 

But she didn't do that. Any of that. And today, like most others, started with Isla in a very compromising position, and Tig's tongue anywhere but his own mouth.

"Don't be scared, baby. Ride it."

"But..." Isla shifted so that her legs were either side of Tig as she straddled him, feeling his cock hard beneath her. "But won't it hurt? Wouldn't you just rather regular sex—"

"Angel, listen to me." Calloused palms slid over her thighs, soothing gentle, concentric circles into the supple tan flesh that he couldn't seem to get enough of.

She was, objectively, perfect in every way.

"Isla." He said, watching her silently mull it over.

She let out a soft breath and nodded with a warm, completely comfortable smile. "I am. I'm listening."

Tig waited for a few moments, until her eyes had finally found his and her visible anguish had subsided, before making his next move.

"It's not gonna hurt me, alright?" He guaranteed, slowly veering himself down the bed until he was able to rest his head on the pillow that was once untouched. "If it hurt, I wouldn't have even suggested it."

"How do you know it's not gonna hurt? It's, like, my whole weight."

"I've done this before." Isla's eyebrow raised as he spoke, waiting for him to further build on his response. "Babe, seriously. Just sit on my face, and ride my tongue."

"Sit?"

He nodded.

"Like—like sit on your face? Don't you mean hover—"

"Stop." Irked, he plucked her from his lap and yanked her forward. Until she was situated atop his sternum.

Trembling.

"I said sit on my face. K? I don't mean hover. I don't mean holding off from putting your whole weight onto me. I said sit on my face, and ride my tongue. Now."

"Tig—"

"If you don't do it, I'm sure I can find another bitch with a crow tattoo that'd be more than happy to let me eat her pussy this morning—"

"Oh, wow." She cut him short, feeling her heart wrench inside of her chest.

It was a pain rooted in anger—fervor—as Isla saw nothing but a red hot rage. Blistering fury. Like the embers of resentment from last night hadn't quite burned out yet, and Tig's mindless riposte had ignited a fresh flicker of that same inimical passion.

And, truthfully, he didn't know why something so harsh had bled from his tongue in such a churlish manner. Because not even twenty-four hours ago he had professed his love for her, hadn't he?

Last night, while she was deluged in one of her most vulnerable states, Tig told her that he loved her and held her hair back as she threw up.

Idiot.

"That's all you really see me as, huh?" Isla spat, promptly peeling her frame away from him.

Like being stuck to Tig was the worst fucking thing she could've thought of.

"I'm just some bitch with a crow tattoo?" Affronted, she said. Isla slid off the bed and onto the freezing redwood floor of his dorm room. "If that's how you feel, then maybe you should go fuck Ima like Jax suggested—"

"Don't fucking do this, Isla!" He barked, sitting upright when she snatched her jeans from the ground. "Do not fucking go there. You know I can't stand that slut."

Indifferently, she shrugged.

As she shimmied back into her Levi's and fastened the zipper, Isla's focus was wholly laid upon trying to wrangle her boundless impenetrable thoughts before they began to sputter from her lips.

"I didn't mean to sound like such an asshole there, baby—"

She snorted.

Tig rubbed his lips together, watching her shrug on a crisp white bardot top with broderie anglaise detailing along the hem. He had to stifle a smile at the sight, actually.

"You can hate me all you want, but you know that I'm gonna have you speared on my cock when I get back from this run. 'Cus it always ends the same way."

"And you're so sure about that?" She said, fighting a stippling blush. "You're gonna be gone for, like, three days, Tig. That's plenty of time for me to think about what you just said."

"This is true." He nodded, getting out of bed. "But it's also plenty of time for you to think about how much groveling I can do to get back on your good side."

That unbelievably suggestive eyebrow raise had sent a scorching heat to her core. Isla's stomach flipped.

But she snapped herself out of it. Promptly remembering that he had, essentially, told her that he would have been willing to sleep with another woman when she didn't particularly feel like doing what he wanted.

And, once again, she glared at him like he made her sick.

"No amount of amazing sex is gonna make what you just said any better. You're gonna have to really fucking pull something outta the bag when you get home."

"Oh, trust me." He smirked. Wickedly. "I know exactly what I can pull outta my bag to impress you—"

"Don't." She held a finger up to silence him, grabbing her keys and sunglasses while he simply stayed grinning at her. "Just head out on this run, do what you've gotta do, keep yourself safe and your dick in your pants, and I'll see you when you roll back into Charming."

Tig smiled, bowing his head a little as he reached for his jeans.

"So, you'll be there when I get back?" He asked.

Isla nodded and slid on her black frames, hoping that her (kind of) better half didn't heed the way her lips began to contort into a small smile.

She pulled herself together and cleared her throat, nodding again.

"I'm always here when you lot get back." Tig opened his mouth to speak, but she silenced him once again. "I'm always here for my father and Jax."

And, with that, Isla wrenched the handle between her polished pink fingertips and pulled open the door. Leaving Tig absolutely dumbstruck as she sauntered away.

"Holy shit, man." He mumbled to himself, fighting with the slightly taught denim. "I love this woman."

—

"No fuckin' way." Jax snorted, flicking his cigarette butt to the ground. "No way am I gonna apologize to that—that psycho bitch. She tried to hit me—"

"She Did hit 'ya." Chibs corrected as he passed by, feeling Gemma's piercing glare burn holes into his silver hair. "Had it comin' though—"

"Fuck you."

Chibs chuckled, letting the left side of his lips curl upwards.

"Regardless of that." The matriarch said, side-eyeing the Scot. "You still provoked her, Jackson."

His eyes rolled.

"Now, I don't know what went on or what was said—'cus I wasn't there—but what I do know is that Isla is pissed off."

"When isn't she pissed off these days, ma?" He huffed out, plucking another Marlboro from the breast pocket of his kutte. "She's like a new person. Ever since..."

"Ever since Tara rocked up into Charming in those goddamn scrubs. I know." Gemma hissed, though managed to reign in any ill feeling she had for the doctor. "But can you blame her? She ran away from you and then came prancing back into your life like nothing happened."

"She didn't do that—"

"But, to Isla, it might look that way." Softly, she mentioned. "And because you don't make the effort to talk to your best friend anymore, she probably does feel like that's what's happening."

He was sick of this. Being dubbed the villain—the bad guy—for simply not having the time to converse with a woman that, truly, had no interest whatsoever in making small talk with him anymore.

Or, so he felt, anyway.

"The effort does work both ways, y'know?!" Jax snapped.

His mother was speechless.

Gemma's face fell while she tried to collect her thoughts, to compose even a hint of a response to such a riposte from the man that she made.

But now...Now it seemed as though his traits and attitude and just his demeanor had started to mirror Clay's, and Gemma was far from impressed that her impact had started to wear away from her son.

Turning into Clay was the very last thing that she wanted for John's boy.

"Christ, Jax. Now I can see why Isla avoids you like the goddamn plague." She asserted, taking a step back when she saw the blonde in question padding her way toward Chibs.

He'd never been so brash before. Not when it pertained to Isla Telford.

"Listen to me." Gemma grabbed at his arm, pulling him closer. "You either apologize to that girl and let this whole thing slide, or you keep her name out of your fucking mouth unless someone mentions her first. Got it?"

He scoffed, ignoring his mother's tight grip.

"She's not your kid, y'know that?"

"I know." Bluntly, she asserted, letting Jackson go. "But she's been more of a daughter to me than what you've been a son these last few years."

His face fell.

"Sort your shit out, Jax. Don't take it out on Isla."

Gemma turned on her heels and began walking toward Clay, ignoring the violent exhale of the man she had completely intentionally started to maim.

Much like how he hated being dubbed a villain, Jax Telled hated his mother turning against him...Choosing another's side.

But, it was Isla. And, to the club—to his mom—Isla couldn't do wrong.

She was perfect in their eyes. A complete angel. A gift from the Gods.

And he was absolutely fucking sick of it.

He was sick of her.

Jax didn't know exactly why he was so disgusted by the mere thought of his childhood best friend anymore, really. Because he didn't feel this way about Opie.

He didn't feel this way about all of the people he'd known the majority of his life.

But, right now, Isla boiled his fucking blood. The sight of her pissed him off more than he'd like to admit, and he hated it.

Resenting Chibs's daughter simply because his brain had trained him to, not so much down to a specific rhyme or reason.

And, really, if anybody should've despised a member of this "family", it should've been Isla loathing Jax.

He killed another man and forced that poor woman to dispose of his dead fucking body, no questions asked.

"Fuck this."

He grunted, throwing his roach to the ground and stamping it out with his sneaker. Jax sauntered over to the clubhouse.

"Isla!" He shouted out. Aggressively, actually.

Chibs lifted a brow, nodding toward the Vice President.

He thought it best to stick around. Just in case his daughter wanted to leather her comrade, more than anything else.

"Hey, Telford!" Jax yelled again, storming over to the duo. "You got something you wanna say to me?"

Isla had actually reached the end of her tether with the men of SAMCRO today. She was done.

She didn't fucking care. She didn't have it in her to care.

"Not particularly." She sighed. "But I suppose that you think I have, no?"

Jax glared at Chibs, but the Scot held it. He wasn't intimidated, nor was he particularly bothered. Much like his offspring.

"Alright." Isla rubbed her lips together. "Good luck for this ride, and I hope you don't crash and fucking die." She spat out, storming away toward the bar.

Isla turned around, walking backward for a second. "Good luck, dad. I'll see you later. Love you." She called.

Chibs blew her a kiss, she caught it, and continued stomping into the clubhouse.

He had raised a bitch, that was for sure. And everyone knew it.

"Isla--" Tig began.

"Fuck off." She barked. "Be safe today, but fuck off, seriously. I don't wanna talk to you, I don't wanna see you, and I really really don't wanna think about you until you roll back into Charming."

He nodded with a tight-lipped, stoic expression, and watched her hold back tears.

"I am really hurt, Tig. I think you know that."

"I know, baby, and I'm sorry--"

"If you were sorry then you wouldn't have said all that you fucking said." Despite her tone, she had managed to remain calm. "But it is what it is. And I'll be fine after we have this little bit of time apart."

He reached for her hand. "If that's what you need, then that's alright baby."

"Tig!" Clay yelled from the front door. "Come on, you jackass! We're not gonna make good time if you're yackin' here!"

"Yeah, I'm comin'!" He called back, not turning to see his superior. "I promise I'll be safe, but you gotta promise that you'll forgive me when I get back."

Isla stared at him blankly as he held her hand to his lips, and gave it a gentle peck.

"I don't expect you to forgive me right now. Just at some point. Okay?"

She nodded.

He dropped her hand, and kissed her cheek.

"See 'ya later, angel. Stay safe."

Isla nodded again. Smiling slightly. "You too. Make sure Jax is looked after."

"Will do."

Tig left her, making his way out of the bar and toward his bike.

There was nothing that Isla wanted more than to tell him that she loved him, but she couldn't. Not after this morning.

[keyh0use]

Your SOA/OBX fanfic is my Roman Empire! And I love your writing, and I can't wait for you to update it!

But I gotta ask what made you come up with the idea? Like just watching both shows around the same time? Or, like, did you have other SOA fanfic ideas in mind? I gotta know your inspiration for it!

Also, thank you for the follow back! ❤️

Sorry, I spam like your posts, too! 😭

oh wow that's so sweet 🥺

SOA is my favorite show and I'm constantly re-watching it, and rafebarry is my favourite ship so they just naturally overlapped in my mind when I was writing about Rafe, Topper and Kelce's dynamic. In fanfiction it's whatever we make it, but he's pretty alone in canon, besides Barry.

So I started imagining what it would be like if he had people all his own, not ones that wanted to get with his sister or wanted his money or wanted his compliance, etc. that he would constantly have to worry about losing. My original rafebarry SOA AU was about Rafe running away to the south side to hide from Ward and being picked up by the scruff of the neck like the lost little kitten he is by Gemma, who loses her shit at a boy a couple years younger than her own being mistreated and well, Clay goes to have a chat with Ward. I never finished it but the idea was Rafe would grow straight into SAMCRO alongside Jax, who was like a big brother. I think under Gemma and Clay he would've been a completely different person, I mean imagine how far Rafe could go with a father (figure) telling him how proud he is of him. In this scenario I wasn't sure which direction to take Barry, though.. I considered making him a Mayan but they aren't as lax with their rules as the Sons, so I don't think that would work. Like I think the Sons would allow Rafe to live quietly with his roommate Barry but other MCs wouldn't. Just my piece.

I gave up on that story and started working on Delicate after listening to White Buffalo - House of the Rising Son from season 4, which screamed SOA Rafe to me. I won't bore you by picking apart all the lyrics but "my sweetheart, he's a rambler. Lord, he rides an old machine." stuck with me, especially because it's sung by another man.

I wasn't sure about the story at first but it was exciting thinking about Barry and Rafe seeing eachother after all those years, so much tension between them that they have no choice but to keep distance or they'll lose it, end up fighting or whatever. They haven't even bumped shoulders or brushed hands or knocked knees. But then Barry's on break getting lunch at some hole in the wall sandwich shop and there's Rafe and some big, scary-ass biker talking and then biker guy leans in and kisses Rafe's temple?! Cradles Rafe's face?! And then all the scenarios I could throw them into; lockdown at the clubhouse is my fav!! just the idea of Barry being holed up with all the Sons families, having no clue what's going on but not being allowed to leave is so 😋😋 like he gets bossed around by rafe a lot in delicate and I actually love it where usually I prefer it the other way around, badass biker Rafe is just different. but also a fundraiser at Barry's garage because his coworkers mom needs treatment and Rafe has the Sons show out for it, which is all fine and cool but there's a girl all over Barry, so Rafe stands off to the side with a scowl while Happy & Tiggy talk about how they'd love to help solve the problem. There were so many outlandish positions I felt comfortable writing them into in this AU which was so fun and refreshing.

It was also a way to work out my own feelings towards Barry's betrayal and the alternative route the show could've taken, where Rafe does time for his crime (despite getting out early, obviously, but that's solely based off being in the MC) and has to deal with how he feels afterwards, about what happened between them and about Barry in general, dodging his father and his past at the same time. While also working out my feelings for SOA, putting my observations into Rafe so I can flesh them out properly, like how significant some of the losses were or how unfair their lives are or the downfall of certain characters.

Thanks for this ask!! I loved getting to talk about this <3 and don't apologize about the spam, I don't mind (:

[garbinge]

Bad Haircut

Jax Teller & Opie Winston & OC Joanne Teller

From these August Prompts: Bad Haircut

Words: 1.2k

Warnings: Light angst. A/N: Not a Charming life chapter but using that taglist since it's my girl Jo. I love creating these one shots that stray from my original scenario for the Charming Life story!

Charming Life Taglist: @livingdeadblondequeen @drabbles-mc @justreblogginfics

Jo had been working her way through beauty school while Jax was making his way through the formality of being a prospect for the club. Everyone knew him and Opie would patch in, their legacy was strong between JT and Piney but everyone in the club just needed to bust their balls for a few months, build character, ya know. 

Most everyone in her family cared more about that than Joanne’s stretch at the Stockton Beauty Institute and School of Cosmetology. That was fine with her, she’d take everyone saying nothing over them giving her shit for it, which they definitely would have, especially Gemma. She was just days shy of getting her license and the boys were just hours shy of their patch in. 

“Don’t you wrap up school soon?” Jax asked as he sat in the salon chair Jo had set up in front of her vanity. 

Jo was standing in front of the vanity mirror grabbing scissors and a comb from the barbicide jar. “Two days until the ceremony.” She nodded and grabbed a towel to wrap around his neck since she knew that he wasn’t going to put a smock on to catch the hair. 

“So it'll be like your college graduation?” Opie asked as he sat at the edge of Joanne’s bed, arms resting on his knees. 

“Except significantly less people.” Jo laughed and shook her head as she tilted Jax’s head around looking at what she was working with. “There’s like 15 people in my class.” 

“Oh thank God.” Jax let out a big sigh. 

“You weren’t going to come.” Jo pushed his head. 

“We both were, just weren’t sure when and where it was.” Opie now looked up at Jo, his beanie snug over his head despite the weather in California. 

Jo just shook her head and began to cut Jax’s hair, taking half an inch off the ends. “It’s at the School in Stockton, 1PM.” 

“Afternoon?!” Jax piped up, excitement in his voice. “15 people, 1PM call time, free haircuts for life, this is way better than college.” He teased. 

Joanne let out a laugh. “What about you, patch in party tonight, is it better than you thought?” 

“Ask us in a few months.” Opie smirked before getting up to look at the photos Joanne had tucked behind the frame of her vanity mirror. 

“Wish Dad was here to see you patch in.” Joanne spoke to her little brother who just nodded slightly.  

“Let’s hope I live up to the weight of the legacy.” Jax’s voice turned solemn. 

“Make your own.” Jo said sectioning out his hair, finishing up the layer of hair in the back. “Don’t let the club decide your legacy, make your own. That’s what Dad would want. He never wanted us living in his shadow.” 

“You comin’ to the party tonight?” Opie turned around with something in his hand. 

Joanne’s eyes moved down to see what it was but as her gaze moved it landed on the prospect patch that sat on the left side of the kutte. She thought things would be different, she thought she’d be Opie’s old lady, which was extreme wishful thinking considering they had never even dated. But the signs were there. Things worked out the way they were supposed to, if she had gone down that track, she wouldn’t have gone to school, both times, she was making a life for herself on her own, something her father would be proud of. But staring at Opie wearing that prospect patch made old feelings stir. 

“Can I have this?” Opie was now holding the photo up in the air. 

It was a photo of the three of them on bikes as kids. Despite Jo being a little over a year older than Jax and Opie, they both towered over her in the photo, much like now. She was the only one in a helmet, more of her own fear of wiping out and hurting herself. Her bike had a pink basket on it with a SOA “A” sticker on the basket. 

“Yea, I have a few copies of it.” Joanne combed through Jax’s hair making sure all of it was even. “You know you put that sticker on my bike basket.” She tried to hide her smile. “And Jax put the reaper on the back of my bike.” 

“Protection.” Opie laughed knowing the exact reason both of them put those stickers on her bike as kids. “From those neighborhood kids, right?” 

“Yea the ones who’d throw glass in the street hoping to pop our tires.” Joanne let out a laugh. 

She moved now to start brining Jax’s hair back into a low bun, styling it wet since she knew he’d argue the second she went to grab the blow dryer. 

“Didn’t you beat them up?” Opie asked as he plopped back onto Joanne’s bed. 

“I did, after they popped Jax’s tire.” Joanne looked over at Opie waiting for Jax’s argument to start. 

“You threatened them.” His voice drew out a little as he tried to call her out. “There was no beating up involved.” His head turned to face Joanne in protest. 

Her and Opie let out a chuckle. “They never fucked with you again, did they?” Joanne asked while Jax rolled his eyes. “Now turn back around I’m almost done.” 

Jax clicked his tongue in his mouth and turned back around to face the mirror while she wrapped a hair tie around the man bun she styled for him. 

“This haircut makes me feel like a douchebag.” Jax asked as he leaned forward out of the salon chair. 

“You always look like a douchebag.” Opie chimed in, his tongue poking through his bottom lip as he teased his best friend. 

Joanne pulled Jax back into the salon chair and tucked the few stray strands behind his ears. “It’s not the cut, I styled it, the girls will love it.” 

“It’s my patch in party, the girls will love me regardless.” Jax spoke while eyeing himself up in the mirror. 

“I think it’s your personality that speaks douchebag, douchebag.” Joanne pushed him out of her hands and went to place her tools back in the barbicide and wipe her hands off. 

“Hey! Shouldn’t you guys be leaving for the patch in party?” Gemma’s voice got louder as it got nearer and the door to Jo’s room was being open. Her eyes moved from Jo, to Opie, than fell on Jax. “You look like a douchebag.” Her face twisted up in disgust.

Joanne took a big sigh at that and held her hand out knowing Jax was going to take the hair tie out and she would be prepared to put it back on her vanity. 

The smile grew on Jax’s face, it made her want to punch him but she had to admit it was kind of funny. As his hair fell out of the tie he looked at it in the mirror. “You’re right the cut does look good.” He handed her the hair tie as he checked himself out in the mirror. 

“Whatever, douchebag.” Her eyes rolled. 

[wantcn]

list of plots/ aus i'm always down to write! ( any plotlines, any relationship, any additional themes )

alpha omega plots, one muse going into heat/rut and the other just happens to be within reach, soulmate themes where alphas seek their mates, mating chase,

hotd / got plots, a mistress & a king/prince/lord, inc*st connections, secret relationships, enemies to lovers,

hades & persephone plots,

vampire plots, vampire and their human pet - could be for se.x only or bl*od and s.ex themes, immortal soulmates finding each other or one immortal finding their mate in the human,

mc / soa plots, a tara & jax vibe, my muse being a stranger who falls for yours that is a vp/pres of a club, my muse being affiliated with the club (a member's daughter maybe) and your muse beng one of the brothers,

pregnancy plot, my muse is pregnant with your muse’s baby and your muse’s wife is just so supportive bc she doesnt know the baby is his,

night club plots, my muse as the stripper and your muse as her boss, my muse as someone working at the club and your muse being a rich & dangerous client,

free use plots, a world where a new law is passed, a world where it's just a widely known thing that it happens to certain women,

royal pet plots, available for the king to use her however he wishes & whenever he wishes. she sleeps in his bed if he wants her to, kneels at his feet during important meetings,

king’s heir plot, the king/jarl needing an heir and since his wife cannot give him a child he turns to his step/daughter/niece/etc to fulfill the task.

boss and secretary plots,

priest plots, anna coming in to confess her sins and your muse deciding the best way to prove she’s sorry is to have her deepthroat him and then fuck her in the booth or over one of the benches in the front row of the church.

sister’s husband, dad’s best friend, mom’s new bf, etc. just - yes, all the naughty shit those scenarios could entail,

step/dad & step/daughter ; bonus points if the dad is married and they have to keep this thing a secret

any and all of those could be mixed, changed and adjusted - we can add any k*nks , relationships, taboo themes or ideas we wanna :)

[furiousofpanda]

Salutations Stranger

》Oc Asks, Art shitpost and repost blog.

◇ Click to read more ◇ if it's your first time here!

About OP

PLEASE do not use feminine things to refer to me, I'm just not a feminine construct, sorry!

I don't have a set name or gender, see below

Autistic Gendersatyret Demisexual Enbian

Animation Arts and Visual Science Student, Art is my thing.

Memory issues, remind if I forgot something important

Think of this as a "Stew" blog. You'll get a bit of everything here including reposts from my art blog.

Sometimes i'll post my artwork, doodles, you can even ask about my ocs and stories and I'd love to talk about them. My art blog is @plantjester

TAGS

Commissions Here | Toyhou.se | Strawpage

#Freerealestate - Free to use art I've made

#Oc posting - Original character content

#SOAS - Oc story, Sonet of a Singularity

#Ask Posting - Answers to asks

Untagged or fandom tagged posts are shitposts or ideas related to thoes topics, take them lightheartedly

ASKS

Always open, I answer them when I have the time!

I'll do SFW topics/questions

No campaigns or advertisements, even if "vouched"

Headcannons, Ocs, I can write up little stories or scenarios if I'm familiar with the characters (I'm not the best of writers so it will be scuffed a bit)

I'll ignore asks I don't like or ones that go too far

I don't really write fanfiction but I can give a short story thing if asked

Requests for my Ocs are 100% ON THE TABLE AND ENCOURAGED. Will be slow in response depending on the answer since I'll be drawing the response

You can ask about me irl, I really don't mind!

I won't draw characters I'm not familiar with or other people's characters (except close friends or my hubby)

HOUSE RULES

Take everything I repost or say in a comedic manner unless it's a long text post.

Do not send campaigns through asks.

All art tagged under #freerealestate is free to be used without my permission, I'd prefer if you credited but I don't give a care as long as you aren't posing it as your own work or editing it.

Do not use any art that's not tagged as #freerealestate, that's just personal stuff.

This is my house. Criticizing my content offhandidly gets you blocked.

I love interacting and shitposting, if you say something funny in my ask box I'll draw a response back even if I want to.

No original species/Furry discussion on my page unless its a character from a game or show or etc. My comfort of this blog is to have a space away from furry subcommunity drama. Even if i somehow bring it up but don't bother asking about it.

I don't give a care and neither should you, I'm only here to have fun anyways.

[zalrb]

Hi! i love ur fics and i was wondering if you can give some advice on making sure ur not writing characters ooc in fanfics? i can't really tell if im just biased lol

thank you! for me, i just listen to them speak so like for SOA, i hadn't written a fic of jax and tara before so before i did, watched a few clips of jax and tara and gemma to get their voices in my head so i could mimic the cadence and the words they'd use. and even if the scenarios are entirely different from the show (or if you're doing a book/movie) i still act as if it's a part of the show, which means the characters act the way they would in the show, like when i did the whole stefan takes elena to a ball thing i broke that down as to why i thought that woudln't be ooc