#sons of anarchy is. an experience

[oh2e]

You can pan to the manhole covers reading Belfast all you like but if the very first thing you show is is a car blatantly driving on the wrong side of the road you’re not going to be very convincing

[screenshot-thoughts]

Some people aren't good at asking for help because they're so used to being

'the helper'. Throughout their life they've experienced an unbalanced give and take, so their instinct is usually "I'll figure it out on my own". The self-reliance is all they've ever known.

[cursed-40k-thoughts]

Hermiatus, the Second Son

Unlike many Genestealer Cults, the Malstrain was not formed by a cunning vanguard organism that made its way to Necromunda aboard some derelict space hulk or echoing cargo vessel. Instead, it was the result of sheer human hubris, blame that we can place firmly at the feet of one Tech-Priest Biologis Hermiatus. 

After his increasingly deranged experiments went wrong and the Genestealer he had brought to Necromunda got loose, the hive around him rapidly fell to anarchy and sedition. Once the Tech-Priest’s crimes were uncovered, he was captured and purged by the Inquisition… but an echo of Hermiatus lives on, captured in the gestalt psychic consciousness of the Malstrain.

As if cursed by some cosmic irony, the entity known as Hermiatus the Second Son is the creation of the Malstrain Patriarch, a genetic memory dredged up and given form over and again. Also referred to as Hermiatus Reborn, Son of the Malstrain, or the Hermaphage Magos, this accursed being carries on the work of the true Hermiatus, continuing to tinker with Genestealer DNA in an attempt to spread the infection.

[wishesofeternity]

“You toil still in service to men. Your father, your husband, your son. You desire not to be free, but to make a window in the wall of your prison. Have you never imagined yourself on the Iron Throne?”

A couple of things:

1)  Alicent is a queen consort and is a Hightower by birth, so no, she cannot imagine herself on the Iron Throne, because Targaryen succession does not work like that. This is basic knowledge that 5-year-olds would presumably be expected to know, and I am astounded and embarrassed that Rhaenys, with her age and experience, lacks this fundamental bit of common sense.

2) Alicent has been the functional regent of Westeros for the past six years. In the previous episode, we see her actively governing the realm and overseeing all royal matters (while Rhaenyra sits on her ass with her loser husband in Dragonstone). We also literally hear Vaemond tell Rhaenys “It’s not a king who sits the Iron Throne these days, good sister. It’s the queen”, so I can assure you, Rhaenys, that Alicent has physically sat on the Iron Throne just fine. She lacks authority, obviously, as she is the consort and not the king, but she certainly did not and does not lack power, to say nothing about influence. This ridiculous show, however, does not seem to be able to differentiate these terms.

3) Does this show not understand that Alicent installing her son as King is not just beneficial to him (which the show acknowledges) but also directly beneficial to her? This is a patriarchal and patrimony-inclined world; Alicent’s son being King would not only mean immense prestige for her family; it would also mean the ultimate peak of power and influence for her (which we see her unapologetically wield in the books). In Westeros, we see Visenya Targaryen supporting her brother and her son’s kingship rather than angling for the throne in her own right, and wielding absolute power and authority in their reigns. Historically, Empress Matilda (the female claimant to the throne in the Anarchy, the war this story is based off) relinquished her claim in favor of her son, Henry II, presumably because she recognized he stood a better chance at gaining the throne (which he did) and continuing her legacy. Joanna of Flanders, who commanded troops in battle, did it to support the cause of her husband in direct opposition to the claim of his niece. Yet according to this show’s logic, every single woman who has fought for their fathers and brothers and husbands and sons subscribes to internalized misogyny rather than, idk, supporting their families and gaining power, security and status in the process. Not to mention, Alicent relinquishing her children’s claim and stepping aside would not only be utterly humiliating and degrading for her from a political and personal standpoint, but also legitimately life-threatening for her children and her family. More competent writers would understand that she did not have much of a choice.

4) “You desire not to be free but make a window in the wall of your prison” is the MOST SICKENING PIECE OF VICTIM-BLAMING BULLSHIT I have ever heard in a long, long time. Alicent was a teenager when she had to marry the much-older King (her best friend’s own father) because of his desire for her. He repeatedly raped her and forced at least four pregnancies on her that she did not want. She was utterly isolated at court after her marriage, lacking comfort and friends (including Rhaenyra, who abandoned Alicent for three years after learning that she was being made to marry her father and, based on the comments she made, did not even stop to consider the awfulness of Alicent’s predicament). She had to endure the humiliation of her father being fired and made to leave court, leaving her even more alone than she previously was. She had to endure her husband constantly favoring his firstborn and his grandchildren by his firstborn rather than Alicent’s children who were a direct result of her rape by him. Her son was maimed and bleeding and her husband chose to defend his firstborn’s moronic decisions rather than bring him justice.  She is not a Targaryen, she does not and cannot ride a dragon. WHAT WAS ALICENT SUPPOSED TO EXCEPT TRY AND SURVIVE? HOW ON EARTH IS SHE BEING JUDGED FOR IT?

(And this ridiculously condescending comment is coming from Rhaenys of all people, lmao. A dragon-riding Targaryen who was an actual claimant to the Iron Throne, unlike Alicent. So, what was stopping HER from seizing power, pray tell? After all, she even has the Velaryon forces to back her claim. Instead, in her own words, she made peace with her sidelining. She constantly disagreed with her husband’s ambition regarding her claim and her family’s power. She volunteered her 12-year-old daughter as a child bride for her own aging cousin. The hypocrisy and double standards here is pathetic, and the lack of self-awareness on the part of the show is even worse)

Alicent was legitimately terrified for her children and her family’s lives, and she was entirely justified in doing so: if Rhaenyra ascended the throne, Alicent’s children would inevitably become threats to her whether or not they directly opposed her. This is unavoidable. Look up any historical usurpation, and that’s the inescapable result - and that’s not even going into the fact that Rhaenyra and Daemon are people who are reckless, cruel and indifferent to violence, and would not hesitate to kill any opposition to their reign. The show’s so-called claim that Alicent is upholding the patriarchy falls apart when you consider the fact that this is the only solution that guarantees the security of her children and herself. How is Alicent’s perfectly understandable motivation written as internalized misogyny? 

And moreover, from a writing perspective ... why give her this arc at all? Fire & Blood was badly written, but it doesn’t change the fact that they looked at an ambitious woman who wanted to enhance her power and improve her family’s standing, who directly defied her husband’s wishes in terms of succession in favor of her own, and rewrote this choice into one borne from internalized misogyny. They wrote her as a child bride, a rape victim, an abuse victim and a teen mother and then used this backstory to say that she was conditioned to become the so-called agent of patriarchy (which they do not support with believable evidence) who opposes their so-called feminist protagonist (whose primary enabler is Alicent’s rapist and abuser, btw, not that his abuse is acknowledged nearly enough by the narrative considering how heavily he was romanticized in the last few episodes) It’s a heinous, disrespectful, absolutely terrible writing choice, and I cannot emphasize this nearly enough.

(Oh, and speaking of Rhaenyra, let’s talk about how her queenship solidifies Viserys’s claim over Rhaenys’s. Let’s talk about if she truly cared about women inheriting the Iron Throne - as opposed to just herself - she would have considered this. Let’s talk about how she disregarded the claims of Baela and Rhaena in favour of her son when it came to Driftmark. Rhaenyra is not challenging the patriarchy, her ascension to the Iron Throne will not change anything for anyone except for herself, do not make me laugh by claiming otherwise)

ON TOP OF THIS, the show can’t even decide on a consistent motivation or characterization for Alicent. They repeatedly show us her visceral and justified fear for her children’s lives, which is somehow forgotten in episode eight in favor of her saying that Rhaenyra will be a good queen. Her desire to see her son crowned and thus ensure her children’s safety is disregarded in favor of her actually wanting to fulfil Viserys’s half-baked wishes on his deathbed. They have her say that everyone knows Aegon will be king, and then act surprised when the Green council plots to install him as King. They do not care about Alicent’s personhood and individual character; what they care about is her position as a foil and antagonist to Rhaenyra.

In conclusion: this show sucks. It shows absolutely no understanding regarding the politics of its own world and our medieval history and is a parody and a travesty of respectful storytelling. It has inconsistent and baffling character motivations and downright misogynistic writing, and this is not acknowledged nearly enough by the fandom.

[mystra-midnight]

Lost Boys & Golden Girls

summary: it was a known fact that if any of the Sons wanted his dick sucked, he could go to cara cara, and one of the girls would be on their knees in a heartbeat. such was the joy of working with pornstars.

warnings: 18+ only. pornstar!reader. spitroasting. voyerism. reader is pining hard for jax & opie. fake orgasms and a wild imagination.

words: 711.

notes: honestly if every there was a world for pornstar!reader it would be sons of anarchy. of course reader works for cara cara. it's not exactly smutty with the boys but rather her wanting it to be them.

It was a known fact that if any of the Sons wanted his dick sucked, he could go to Cara Cara, and one of the girls would be on their knees in a heartbeat. Such was the joy of working with pornstars. Usually, if Jax needed a release, it was Ima who rose (or rather kneeled) to the occasion, but tonight his focus was entirely on you.

Well, not exactly.

You wished with every fibre of your being and beat of your heart that it was Jax kneeling behind you. You imagined the way the mushroom head of his cock would feel pushing through your slick folds and the stretch as he pushed inside. You already knew that he was big and that you'd feel him in the pit of your stomach. You imagined it was Opie kneeling in front of you, his pre-cum being smeared against your lips. You knew he was big as well, enough to fill your mouth and hit the back of your throat.

Imagining them would be the only thing that would get you through this scene. It would start with Jax's hands landing heavily on your ass, one cheek at a time, then both together, making them jiggle before he'd roughly palm them and spread you open just so he could watch your cunt swallowing his dick. He'd leave your skin stinging and tears ebbing in your eyes.

And then it would continue with Opie's hands grabbing fistfuls of your hair. He'd gather your hair in a messy ponytail to hold while he fucked your throat, making you gag on his cock and leaving drool dripping from your chin. Between the two of them, it wouldn't take long until you were riding the beginnings of an orgasm.

You imagined the way they would mock you for cumming so quickly. They'd talk to each other as if you weren't there, about to fall apart on their cocks. They would use you like a toy and treat you like holes to fill with cum, and you would relish in the attention.

"The sluts gonna cum already." Jax would laugh.

"How long has it been?" Opie would answer.

"About twenty-six seconds." Jax would reply.

All the while, your legs would be trembling and shaking as you struggled to keep yourself from collapsing as Jax fucked you hard and fast, as though he were attempting to rearrange your guts. Your cheeks would be streaked with mascara and tears as Opie held you down on his cock, your nose pressed into the wiry hairs at the base of his shaft.

And when you came, it would be a religious experience. You might not have been religious, but at that moment, you'd believe in heaven. You knew that they would fuck you through your orgasm, making it last longer than you thought possible and leaving you a cock-drunk whore. Jax would abuse that spongy sweet spot until your cum dripped from your cunt and coated your thighs, the way Opie would hit the back of your throat again and again.

You'd take all of it like a good girl just to hear their praise. Opie would stroke your hair, pulling it out of your face, so we could watch the way your eyes would roll back into your skull. Jax would grab greedy handfuls of your ass as he buried himself to the hilt, cumming as deep as he could.

"Such a good whore." Jax would growl the words between his teeth as he came, filling you completely. He'd watch the way it would spill out around his cock—too much to fit in your tight cunt.

"Swallow it. All of it." Opie would instruct, keeping his cock buried in your throat. He'd groan when he felt you swallowing around him, and then again when you gagged and moan and swallowed down as much of his cum as possible before it leaked from the edges of your puckered lips.

Hearing Luann's voice brought you back to the moment—the feeling of a dozen pairs of eyes on you as you performed. The scene resembled what you had been imagining: one man behind you, one kneeling in front of you, and then spit-roasting you into oblivion. Unlike your imagination, it wasn't nearly as good.

[rayslittlekitten]

hartkeene Excited to announce that I was brought in as a consultant and “hand double” for a new Prime series starring Charlie Hunnam (Sons Of Anarchy, King Arthur, The Gentlemen, Rebel Moon, Triple Frontier, and many more). Such a fun experience working with him and some other big names! Stay tuned…😜 . . . . . #magicians #mentalists #handjob #charliehunnam #sonsofanarchy #thegentlemen #magician #mentalist #sleightofhand #rebelmoon #prime #amazon

Source

[farsight-the-char]

Unlike many Genestealer Cults, the Malstrain was not formed by a cunning vanguard organism that made its way to Necromunda aboard some derelict space hulk or echoing cargo vessel. Instead, it was the result of sheer human hubris, blame that we can place firmly at the feet of one Tech-Priest Biologis Hermiatus.*  After his increasingly deranged experiments went wrong and the Genestealer he had brought to Necromunda got loose, the hive around him rapidly fell to anarchy and sedition. Once the Tech-Priest’s crimes were uncovered, he was captured and purged by the Inquisition… but an echo of Hermiatus lives on, captured in the gestalt psychic consciousness of the Malstrain. As if cursed by some cosmic irony, the entity known as Hermiatus the Second Son is the creation of the Malstrain Patriarch, a genetic memory dredged up and given form over and again. Also referred to as Hermiatus Reborn, Son of the Malstrain, or the Hermaphage Magos, this accursed being carries on the work of the true Hermiatus, continuing to tinker with Genestealer DNA in an attempt to spread the infection. Although he is afforded an unusual amount of autonomy by the Malstrain Patriarch to continue his research, Hermiatus also fills the role of a more traditional Genestealer Cult’s Magus, providing tutelage to his creations and ushering them across the ash wastes.

The Clones Are Psykers.

Fear.

.....

I wish GSC a very "Get Something Like This In Plastic".

[k3nnedycurse]

hello friends! just wanted to toss my hat in the ring and put out some feelers.

i’ll preface this as I’m not looking to replace any current partners, just looking to add some more!

my name is bria, i’m 26, and a dog mom to the cutest pitbull alive! pronouns are she/her. Currently in the EST timeline, living in the land of snow and he best football team. i’ve been roleplaying almost half of my life so i have tons of experience to bring to the table.

preferable to fandoms, which i have a extensive list of, but am quite literally down to do anything.

my list of fandoms off the top of my head would be:

-succession

-game of thrones / hotd

-marvel (would actually die for netflix mcu???)

-law and order svu

-sons of anarchy / mayans

but wait! there’s more! no really, there is. name it and I’m probably in it. i am also very comfortable with anything slice of life, original plot, creating our own verse.

i prefer canon x oc pairings if we're going to do fandom and i am doubling friendly. primarily mxf, but am comfortable doing any type of pairing. my favorite genres would be angst as an former baby emo and fluff, and everyone's favorite.. slow burn. romance is definitely wanted as well!

please be 21. i'm pretty flexible on length but i do tend to hit character limit and get a bit wordy for a lack of better wording.

but that’s all for me! If you are interested, feel free to message me or react to my post!

[minnophee-writes]

Safe and Sound - Part 1

Fandom: The Purge: Anarchy

Pairing: Leo Barnes x Fem! Reader

Series Warnings: Violence, gun violence, assault, non-consensual touching, death, character death, murder, breaking and entering, knives, blood, mentions of abuse, mentions of past abusive relationship, single mother trope, slight smut, dry humping / grinding, strangers to lovers, attempted kidnapping, smut, oral sex, p in v, size difference, taller man / smaller woman, attempted sexual assault, attempted assault, attempted murder, sharing a bed trope, strangers to lovers, kissing, Leo being a good father figure, Leo is sexually pent up, rough kissing & gentle kissing

Chapter Warnings: Violence, gun violence, assault, non-consensual touching, death, character death, murder, breaking and entering, knives, blood, mentions of abuse, mentions of past abusive relationship, single mother trope, slight smut, dry humping / grinding, attempted sexual assault, attempted assault, attempted murder, sharing a bed trope, Leo is sexually pent up

Summary: When you're trying to bunker down in your poorly barricaded house with your young 8-year-old son it doesn't go to plan. A gang of unruly criminals come breaking into your home and you're forced to take your son and flee down the street toward your brother's apartment. On your journey there you're corralled into an alleyway, certain of death, but then a lone saviour comes to your aid.

Word Count: 4,413 words (damn, one hell of a part 1 o-o)

A/N: I love the purge series so much and when I first saw Leo Barnes I knew my horny ass was doomed. I haven't seen many new fics of this man and I'd like to fix that. Street names and apartment / house addresses mentioned in this story are made up and fictional but I did mention 2 well known places in America due to where the Purge: Anarchy takes place in (roughly).

You huddled with your young son Justin in your bedroom when the siren blared on the TV and speakers outside. The annual Purge had begun and you were terrified. You had been struggling to juggle being a newly single mother and working 2 jobs to provide for your child. Your salary at both jobs weren't the best and so with the money you did save up you could only afford a cheap, scrap metal barricade security system for your house. You highly doubted it'll completely keep out the looters that come out during the purge but you hoped you'll be able to keep Justin safe.

With Justin cuddled into your left side, on the right side laid a large axe, a hand gun, and a hunting knife. You wanted to be prepared in protecting your son so you weren't going to shy away from using force if necessary. The Purge was a brutal bloodbath, every year seemed to get worse and worse with disgruntled employees seeking revenge on their employers, old exes murdering in a sick act of "love", and twisted people who just like to watch others suffer for entertainment. It scares you, scares Justin, and this year would be his 8th year experiencing the Purge.

Distant gun shots were fired and you felt Justin flinch, his head burrowing into your chest for comfort as your body tensed around him. You wished he never had to experience this. If you had stayed with your ex you would be protected, fortified by the highest security technology only the rich could buy - the only downside is that you'd be going back to the abuse. The name calling, the subtle insults, quick taps to the face that escalate to forceful slaps, and hiding bruises that would slowly litter your body.

You left when you finally had enough. The last straw for you was when Kyle dared to stump out a cigarette on Justin's arm when he was only 2 years old. That night you waited until Kyle fell into a drunken slumber before you packed your bags, strapped Justin to your chest, and snuck out the laundry door then out the side gate. You fled down the road to the gas station where a nice elderly couple gave you a ride from Beverly Hills to down town Los Angeles. You had secretly been stashing some of your ex's cash so that you could afford a roof over your head but you knew that the money wouldn't last long which is why you work 2 jobs just to have enough for rent, food and any other basic needs. It didn't help that you lived in down town L.A but your brother lived in the area and you wanted to be close to family since Kyle made sure that you had cut ties with your family before moving to Beverly Hills.

Your brother Daniel was the only one who knew what Kyle had done and did everything he could to help you get on your feet. Daniel helped you raise and look after Justin, babysitting when you had a late shift at the diner, and sparing money for you when you needed it. He lived about a block from you, giving you the invitation to crash at his place whenever you and Justin wanted. Daniel opened the offer earlier that day, before the Purge commenced, but you declined. You lied about having a good quality security system but you didn't want to worry him, you knew you could get through this and protect Justin but as the night dragged on you started to doubt yourself.

"Mommy, I'm scared." Justin murmured as he clung to your shirt.

"Shh - its okay, sweetie. Mama's here."

You stroked his hair to calm him a bit, humming the tune of 'Bleed to Love Her' by Fleetwood Mac to coax your son to sleep. You hoped most of the night might be slightly peaceful so Justin could rest, you were tired yourself but made the effort to stay awake and alert for anything.

As Justin slept beside you your eyelids grew heavy after hours of nothing. The occasional gun shots and screaming could be heard from afar but nothing to be worried about. With nothing to stimulate your brain it was hard to stay awake and the echoing lullaby of slumber was calling to you. Your head dipped forward only to jerk up again as you fought it but soon your mind finally succumbed to sleep.

~~~☆~~~~~~~☆~~~~~~~☆~~~~~~~☆~~~~~~~☆~~~~~~~☆~~~~~~~☆~~~

A sudden crash woke you, you were a bit hazy from sleep but you were brought into the presence by the sound of glass crunching from within the house. Your pulse was racing as was your mind over what to do. You heard Justin's breath hitch and so you huddled him into your walk-in wardrobe before grasping your collection of weapons and hiding in the wardrobe. You hoped that it would possibly be one person deciding to rob your home, only one person to worry about - you could handle that.

A male voice rang out down the hallway and a second male voice responding, color drained from your face at the realization that there was more than one person - probably many more as more glass being smashed could be heard in the guest bathroom down the hall. Your mind raced with conjuring up a plan of escape, if you were lucky you could get Justin to crawl under your bed before quietly vaulting out the window into the front side garden while you kept watch.

"Okay sweetie, we're going to play a little game called 'Statues'." you grasped Justin's shoulders gently to grab his attention as you explained the plan. "We're gonna crawl to my bed and hide under it, once we get there we freeze like statues. When I say so we'll crawl toward the window and Mama will help you get out into the side yard, okay?"

"Yes, mommy." Justin nodded cautiously before laying on his belly.

At your signal you both inched to the bed while you glanced out your bedroom doorway to make sure none of the men had seen you or Justin. When you were under the safety of your bed you surveyed the hallway again, freezing and listening for movement from within the house. Rattling noises came from in the guest bedroom, porcelain shattering and rustling of cabinet drawers being opened aggressively. You nodded to Justin again to move toward the window while you trailed behind him with your stare aimed at the doorway.

Justin reached the windowsill and slowly tried to pry open the window. You assisted him once you crawled up behind him and prayed that it wouldn't creak as it widened but it seemed that whatever God was above wanted to spite you. The wooden frame stuttered loudly in the room, echoing down the hallway and all movement down there stopped abruptly. Your breath picked up as you shoved the window open and lifted Justin out and into the side garden in a panic, footsteps were approaching fast and so you tossed yourself out the window next to your son.

"We need to go - now!"

You grasped Justin's hand as you ran for the gate to get out to the road, the voices from in your home shouting at each other while a few stray bullets whizzed passed you. You picked up Justin and held him in your arms for protection, your legs carrying you as fast as possible - heading in the direction of your brother's apartment. Justin started hyperventilating in your ear from the shock of the sudden violence and narrow escape, his little mind racing to understand what was happening and where they were heading while your brain was rattling with the different thoughts of the fastest and safest way to reach Daniel's place.

You had passed a few other houses on the block when a loud explosion erupted from a couple of parked cars that sat down another street across the road, an armoured vehicle charged toward the T intersection before breaking hard in the middle of the road. You ran behind a tree on the block as a group of people hopped out of the small truck, large assault rifles at the ready and masks covered their faces. Some were cheering while others searched the area, you guessed for prey, to feed their sick idea of entertainment. You weren't sure if they'd kill on sight or capture you both to be tortured for pleasure and you didn't want to stick around to find out, you just wanted to take Justin to Daniel's and know he'll be safe when the sun rises in the morning.

Your body shook slightly from fear of being caught, you couldn't risk Justin being hurt - he was your little bundle of joy, your baby boy, and you weren't going to let anyone take him away from you.

Justin's sniffling and whines were getting loud and you tried to shush him, some of the masked men turned in your direction and alerted the others.

"Shh, baby, shh... we need to be quiet..." you whispered in desperation but a harsh yank of your hair shot to your scalp.

Rough hands grabbed you while ripping your son from your arms causing you to scream in distress. You thrashed in the men's arms to get closer to Justin when a blow to the left side of your face disorientated you enough for them to drag you to the middle of the street, more masked men surrounding you as another man held Justin in a tight grip. The stranger aimed a knife next to Justin's neck and your heart rate spiked in fear.

"No, please!" You begged, "I-I'll doing anything, please - just don't hurt my son!"

A man walked toward you and chuckled at you, finding your pleading to be amusing. He got down on one knee and leaned over you in a menacing manner which made you slightly shrink into yourself.

"'Anything', you say? Well I can think of a few things you could do to save your son." The man then suggestively groped his own crotch to imply his meaning.

A shiver shook through your body at the thought of doing anything sexual for these men and hoped you could convince them otherwise.

"My boss is the owner of the Drunken Duck bar, he has a safe in his office-"

"I don't care about his shit. I've got plans for you."

You were then shoved onto the asphalt, your back and side of your face pressed to the ground as you struggled to get the man off of you. Justin cried at the scene and your heart clenched at the thought of him witnessing something so horrific so you put more effort into fighting your attacker. The man had managed to jerk your pants and unzip his but you twisted your legs so that he couldn't remove your underwear which frustrated the masked man. He began to squeeze your legs to get you to release your hold but you screamed in defiance, swinging your small fists toward his face with all your might.

"Get off of me!"

"Shut up, slut."

The man gripped your throat harshly, choking you and making you lose focus. Your body flailed as you fought to get more air into your lungs, your legs kicking to get leverage, and your arms clung to his in an attempt to remove his hand from around your neck. Your vision was starting to fade but a distant roar of a car engine ricocheted through the streets, the man above you pausing his actions while his head swivelled to the right.

A black, armoured car darted from around the corner and swerved toward the group of men.

"Shit - open fire!" He boomed as the car rammed into a few of his men and into their own vehicles.

It was all a blur for you as oxygen entered your body, you rolled onto your stomach and surveyed where Justin was. He was laying on the ground a distance away from you and crying out for you.

"Justin! Mommy's coming, baby." You shouted.

You made your way over to him as bullets flew in all directions, your swollen eye made it hard to navigate but you pushed on as you got closer and closer to Justin. You got within a few inches from him when a swift kick to your stomach winded you and you were then shoved to the side, a heavy weight laid on top of you in the process.

"Mommy!"

The terror in your son's voice had your mind in a frenzy, you fought back against whoever was above you but you couldn't fight back against his hard-hitting blows to your face. Your consciousness was fading in and out, the bad seeming to spread across your body, and your strength dwindled with each punch. When the surrounding light growing faint the sudden pressure on top of you vanished - you could breath but you just laid there unable to move from exhaustion. Small arms wrapped around you and cold, wet droplets began to fall onto your exposed skin as Justin attempted to cuddle you but the shock coursing through his body was making it hard.

You cracked open your left eye, barely in better shape than your right, and gazed up at Justin, wheezes rattled your throat while you made an effort to move your arms to reassure your 8-year-old. You struggled to lift your upper body to sit up and fell back, Justin sobbing then exerted himself to lift you with his tiny strength.

"Hey, hey - stay awake, little momma." A calm male voice instructed, "I'm going to get you and your son out of here but I need you to trust me..."

Larger hands then touched your arms, your eyes shooting toward the culprit and seeing a slightly older man with messy dark hair, a sharp jawline covered in rough facial hair, as well as piercing brown eyes. Your mind went blank and you were suddenly aware of your dry mouth when no answer came out so you resorted to nodding your head cautiously. If you wanted your son to be safe and protected then you'll have to give some trust to this new stranger who seemed to have saved you from death.

"Good." he nodded then offered his hand." Leo Barnes at your service."

"Y-Y/N..." your voice croaked out painfully.

"Alright, Y/N just stay calm. I'm going to pick you up and carry you to my car - okay?"

You nodded again to save your voice and felt your body heating up at the strong, muscular arms that wrapped around you and lifted you with one arm tucked under your legs and the other supporting your back. You leaned your head against his upper chest hearing his heartbeat which started to lull you to sleep. Leo shook you slightly to keep you awake in case you have a concussion, Justin trailing behind the both of you to the car. Leo gently set you down on the passenger seat before helping Justin into the back seat and buckling you both in. The seatbelt pressed against a wound that you hadn't noticed before - guessing you must have been grazed by a bullet during the shoot-out, you fidgeted from the small, stinging pain as Leo got into the driver's seat and starting up the vehicle.

"M-my brother... lives on the corner... of Mcroyle street..."

"Just down here, yeah?" Leo pointed further down the street where a large apartment complex stood and you nodded.

Leo drove the few feet to your brother's place and helped you and Justin up the stairs to Daniel's apartment. As the three of you reached Daniel's floor Leo noticed that your brother's door was slightly ajar and he knew something was up.

"Wait..."

"What? Daniel's apartment is right there-"

"The lock is broken and the door is open." Leo stared at you for a moment before continuing, "Stay out here - I'll check it out and make sure it's clear."

You agreed and watched Leo creep into Daniel's apartment, the eerie silence made you anxious as no voices could be heard - not even from the other apartments which put you on edge further. Oncoming footsteps caught your attention and you saw Leo emerge from the apartment with a sorrowful expression. His face told you what you needed to know and the tears blurred your vision while they streamed heavily down your face, your hands covering your mouth to muffle the pitiful sobs from echoing the hallway you stood in. Justin watched on in confusion and distress - he was smart enough to understand something was wrong because of your visual state but wasn't aware of 'what'.

You hugged Justin for comfort as Leo strutted toward you both, giving you a few seconds to grieve before gently placing a hand on your shoulder. You looked up into his dark eyes with your teary ones.

"C'mon, it's not safe here. I have a secure place that you two can hide in until it's over." Offered Leo.

You swallowed while debating the option in your head but you knew it was your only option for Justin's sake.

"Okay..."

~~~☆~~~~~~~☆~~~~~~~☆~~~~~~~☆~~~~~~~☆~~~~~~~☆~~~~~~~☆~~~

The car ride to Leo's secure hideout was quiet. Justin fell asleep in the backseat a few minutes ago, you were leaning against the passenger door looking at the passing scenery as Leo focused on the road. The humming from the car engine was the only sound even if it was muffled, the air around you and Leo was gloomy from the previous events.

Before leaving Daniel's apartment Leo had searched for some pants for you since your encounter with the masked man had ruined them, your jeans had been ripped and torn in many places so Leo had found you a pair of your brother's gym shorts. The car's air-conditioning was starting to freeze your exposed skin on your legs and arms, the cool air causing you to feel the slight throbbing pain of your many bruises and wounds but you tried to focus on anything else but the discomfort. Without warning a warm, large hand rested on your bare thigh which caused you to jump in your seat - Leo apologized swiftly removing his hand trying to explain himself.

"Sorry, you looked cold so I wanted to offer some heat..." Leo's voice trailed off, probably thinking about how idiotic his reasoning sounded but you just shook your head with a small smile.

"Thank you." you caressed the spot where his hand once was, "I'm a bit cold, now that you mention it."

He gradually placed his hand back on your thigh and rubbed it to warm it up occasionally switching legs after a few minutes one each one. His body heat helped a lot with keeping your legs warm, the touching and caressing was shooting to your crotch making it pulse with want. Your face slowly started to blush at the thought of a rough looking man like Leo would be petting you and making you feel certain emotions that you haven't in quite some time.

Your logical brain was turning into mush has your horny thoughts flashed through your mind with multiple different scenarios which had your pussy throbbing and dribbling in your underwear - a little thought mortified if Leo were to feel the wet spot if he moved his hand more to the inside of your thigh but that didn't stop your body from relaxing and slightly adjust your legs to spread a little wider. An unexpected squeeze to your thigh jerked you back to rational thinking and you clenched your things abruptly.

"Woah, didn't mean to startle you." Leo glanced over at you with slight concern.

"I-I'm okay... Just a little jumpy I guess."

Leo quickly glanced down for a brief moment before staring back at the road ahead of him, you looked down to see his hand trapped between your thighs near your drooling pussy which made your eyes widen in embarrassment. You were too scared to move your legs because your anxiety would then reason that it would bring attention to the touch and you'd lose the warm press of his hand close to where you needed it.

Before you could continue your internal struggle the car slowed to a stop outside of what looked like an abandoned house in an old part of the city where not many people lived and the house was concealed by foliage and a long gravel driveway. Leo got out of the car to then unbuckle Justin from his seat and carried him inside while you gradually made your way inside after them. You saw that Justin was sleeping in the only bedroom you could see - that Leo had placed him in, while you crept over to the old, beat-up couch to sit on, finally giving your sore body a rest. Leo sat beside you with a relieved expression as he groaned, his legs spread wide and slightly nudged into yours causing your heart to shutter and your body to heat up again.

"Sorry if the place is a bit small. The house only has one bedroom but you and...?" Leo trailed off in an implied question.

"Justin."

"You and Justin can share that room - I can take the couch."

"Oh no, no, no! You've saved my son and I, and brought us to a safe place. You deserve the bed after all you've done for us." You pleaded, feeling guilty.

Leo shook his head with a chuckle, he admired your caring nature but could visually see that you needed the rest. Dark, heavy bruising littered your face and exposed skin, blood dried on your skin and a few cuts looked irritated from being dirty so his first priority was to clean you up and care for your injuries.

"Come on, let's get you cleaned up."

During the whole process you couldn't keep your thoughts innocent when it came to Leo. From his rippling muscles, his messy hair, the way he would touch you, praise you when you winced at the sting of the disinfectant; and even the way he would stand close so you could smell his scent of gun smoke, leather and an earthy, cedar aroma. It made you light-headed, you subconsciously leaned into Leo's touches and embrace - every so often you would drift off to sleep in his arms only to wake up when Leo would wipe an antibacterial wipe on one of your wounds.

You were so drained that you barely had any energy to exert to move out of the small bathroom which lead Leo to picking you up again and carrying you to the bedroom Justin was resting in. When Leo settled you on the bed he went to move out of the room when you tiredly grasped his wrist and wined.

"Please don't go, you're warm..." You slurred, your tired state making you a little delirious.

Leo glanced at the bed, sizing it up and mentally calculating if there'll be enough room for all three of them. He looked down at your hazy eyes, you looked adorable when you begged and he just couldn't resist disappointing you. He moved toward the bed so you shuffled over to the middle of the bed as Leo climbed in, his body heat already warming you up better than the blanket that you were tucked under. When you both settled again you were facing each other, your breaths fanning over your faces, and your eyes were locked in an intense stare.

"Comfortable?" Leo asked.

"Yes, just a bit chilly but better than before..."

"Okay, good."

Your body gave a short shiver from the cold air that caressed your shoulder that wasn't under the blanket, you moved to remedy the issue when a heavy object wrapped around your waist before you were tugged into a toasty body. You hummed in approval, snuggling into the warm surface when a chuckle vibrated through your body causing your eyes to shoot open and look up at Leo, his eyes were closed as if to mimic sleeping but his deep laughter told you he was still awake.

"Goodnight, Y/N."

"Goodnight, Leo..." You mumbled until sleep finally sunk it's claws in, dragging you into its embrace.

Leo could hear faint snores coming from you as he made sure to keep you warm and to make sure you and your son were protected. Your soft skin and smooth legs pressed into him causing him to exhale in distress when he could feel a certain body part getting a little too excited about the physical contact. Leo's arms strained from pulling you closer into him but his cock began to throb in need in his pants. He tried to resist but you fidgeted in your sleep, rubbing your lower stomach and crotch against him and his body would respond the same - his hips would angle forward to press against you while you slept.

You gasped in your sleep except you didn't wake up, your breathing began to be somewhat laboured and your hips thrusted toward Leo's to chase the subconscious sensation of his rough jeans against your stimulated clit that was puffy and sensitive. Both hips worked in tandem with each other, your breathing getting louder and Leo's body tensing from the rising orgasm but suddenly his rational mind screamed at him.

'What are you doing, you bloody idiot!?' After what she's just been through and you do that? He stopped immediately but the sound of your unconscious whine at the loss of stimulation had Leo shushing you and cuddling you further to make up for teasing you. Movement behind you also reminded him of your son sleeping at the other side of the bed, a fair distance from you both but guilt and irritation wracked his mind at his thoughtless decision yet he just couldn't let you go.

His eyelids finally grew heavy, a yawn made its way out of his mouth before he rested his head on top of your head, his face burrowed into your hair because the flowery scent of your hair products lulled him into sleep. The three of you sharing a bed, Leo's shotgun propped against his side of the bed next to his pillow, and you and Leo wrapped into each other's arms.

Unbeknown to you or Leo, your three man group would be rudely awoken by a malice gang looking to cause more chaos before the night is over...

[bullet-clubs-bitch]

Enough

Chuck Taylor X Fem reader (Chuck is referred to as Dustin)

You taught me how to love, I was broken, shattered into a million pieces and you put me back together. I don’t want to be with anyone else but you. You are enough, more than enough.  

Word count: 2215

Main Masterlist

Every now and then I would get asked why I married Chuck Taylor? What was it that I saw in him? How was I still with him? The internet was a ruthless place, I would see the comments, people were always shocked to find out that not only Dustin and I were married but we shared a son. People would say that I deserved better, that it was a miracle that he pulled someone like me and I hated it. Everytime someone said he was undeserving of my love it honestly broke me. 

I know for a fact that Dustin saw what was being said of him online, and as much as he pretended it didn’t bother him I knew it did, because I knew it bothered me.

Today was All In, in London. Dustin and I decided to take our son Damian along for the ride, wanting him to experience the historical event. We flew straight from dynamite to London, arriving a few days before the event in order to prepare. On the card Dustin would be a part of the stadium stampede and I would be defending my AEW women’s world championship in four way. Before the show I did a press conference, talking about the difference between the first All In all those years ago and now. 

***** 

“So, Y/n. You will be defending your AEW Women’s championship in a fatal four way. How is today different from the first All In all those years ago?” A reporter asked me. 

“Well, something that is different is that I have a kid now” I told the reporter truthfully 

“Um, well, I have been honored to be a part of the ever growing womens division in AEW. Kenny, Matt, Nick and I had this vision back in Japan to create our own wrestling promotion and to see what it is today is something I would have never believed if you told me five years ago” 

“As you said, something that is different is that you have a kid now. How do you balance being a mother and a wrestler?” 

“It’s difficult, especially since we are traveling more now that everything has opened back up. In all honesty it’s not too bad, some shows I will bring my son with me but other times he’s staying with my parents or someone. It’s like you said balance, when I’m gone for weeks at a time then I would bring him, where as if it were a few days I probably wouldn't” 

“ How do you feel about your match tonight? Walking in ready to face three other opponents has your chances of winning smaller.” 

  “Well for starters I don’t think that this being a four way puts me at a higher chance of losing. Statistically speaking I have a good track record with these kinds of matches. If you look back at the first All In I successfully defended my ROH Women's championship in a fatal four way. One of which was Britt Baker. I will be going into this match like I do all my other matches, cool, calm and collected. Although this is a huge match and I have a lot of pressure on me, it’s nothing I haven’t felt before.” 

“One last question Y/n  your husband will be a part of the stadium stampede match, what are your thoughts on the match?”

“I personally love a good bloody brawl.  Anarchy in the arena, stadium stampede, blood and guts, they are my favorite. I know Mox is going to do some insane things and I’ll be on the edge of my seat watching this amazing murder scene unfold before my eyes. That being said, as much as I adore the Blackpool Combat Club I will be on the side of Best Friends tonight. I know people think that Best Friends are all hugs and rainbows but I think they have proved time and time again that they have a dark side. The parking lot brawl being a perfect example, Chuck and Trent have bathed in their own blood before and can be just as ruthless as the BCC. I do hope, for the sake of my mind, that I have my match before theirs so I can watch it and not stress about my match. Regardless it’s going to be a great match and I hope nobody gets hurt too bad” 

**** 

Soon it was the final hours before we went on air and for once I began to grow nervous. Not nervous about my match but Dustins. This wasn’t anything new, Dustin has had bloody brawls in the past but something about this one felt different. 

“How ya feeling Champ?” I didn’t even hear Dustin enter the room. I only noticed him when he wrapped his arms around my waist, hugging me from behind. 

“Nervous” I replied 

“How so?” Dustin asked

“Not sure, I know my match and I’m genuinely really happy that Saraya is going to get her moment and all but…” 

“But what?” 

“I’m more nervous for you” I told Dustin before turning around so I could bury my face in his chest, holding him in a tight embrace 

“Why are you nervous for me doll? It’s nothing I haven’t done a dozen times over?” 

Truthfully I didn’t know why I was so nervous, the match itself didn’t worry me too much but it was what came after. This would be a bloodbath and right now I was questioning that bringing Damian along was a good idea. Did I really want him to witness his father bloodied and bruised? Imagine trying to explain that to a 3 year old. 

“I know, but I just have this feeling. It’s hard to explain, I just have this gut feeling that somethings going down tonight. I’m not necessarily talking about you, Dusty,  but in general I just have this feeling” 

***

Well boy was that feeling right. Other than the backstage beef that went down, as I expected I knew the people would talk. Dustin’s match went great, no bad falls, no stitches needed but for some reason no matter how good the match was you would always have those negative people. 

I returned to the hotel around 1am, exhausted. All I wanted to do was have a hot shower and sleep. Although Dustin and I both washed up at the arena after our matches you still are left feeling a bit gross. That final shower before bed calming your burning muscles. 

As Dustin was In the shower I put Damian to bed, just then I got a text on my phone. 

I looked and saw a message from Matt. Looking at the text I noticed it was just a link to which I clicked and ended up on a chain of tweets. 

I guess an old image resurfaced of me and an ex boyfriend of mine. I read the messages and they all said the same thing. “Y/n should have stayed with him” “They were perfect together” “She settled for Chuck” just to name a few. 

Looking back at the image I could feel the tears start to form in my eyes. That Ex boyfriend of mine was none other than Tyler Black. Tyler and I had been together when we were teenagers. We were dumb kids trying to make it in the industry. The people loved us not only as our characters but as us as a couple, the thing was all of that quick fame can get to your head. Yet we never broke up, that was until I found out he had been cheating on me for months. I remember when I found out, oddly enough it was Chuck Taylor himself and Dalton Castle who told me about it. But that was years and years ago, since then so much had changed. 

Dustin and I got together later on in 2009 when he debuted in Pro Wrestling Guerrilla. I fell in love with him 14 years ago so why is it now that all of a sudden people have a problem with it? 

My brain just couldn't seem to comprehend it. Yeah of course people change, everyone has changed, in 14 years we have both changed. Physically that is, through it all Dustin still had that sense of humor and smile that would light up a room. 

Just then I heard the shower turn off. I quickly hid my phone pretending like nothing happened. 

I then quickly grabbed my things and headed for a shower, Dustin could tell something was up I knew he did. “Is everything alright? You seem on edge” He asked, blocking me from entering the washroom to escape. “yeah , everything is fine, I’m just tired that’s all” I responded. Dustin knew I was lying straight to his face but decided to leave it. 

***

The hot water felt perfect against my sore muscles, that match was definitely a brawl. Although I lost I was happy Saraya won. I remember when she got injured all those years ago, being able to help her get back in the ring after seeing what had happened made me happy. During the match I did not get pinned, Toni did which meant that I would get my rematch at some point and who knows maybe become a 2-time champion? 

After I noticed the tips of my fingers becoming a bit pruney I got out, wrapping myself in a fluffy towel and finishing getting ready for bed. 

When I returned, I saw Dustin under the covers, scrolling on his phone. 

“Whatcha looking at?” I asked, as I jumped on top of the bed, joining him under the warm covers

“Nothing” He said, trying to hide the screen 

“Okay then” 

“By the way Matt was texting you when you were in the shower” 

Shit, do you think he saw the texts from Matt? Looking at my phone I saw more messages from Matt. ‘What is wrong with people’, ‘I can’t believe this is still going on’, ‘I’m sorry that you have to deal with this Y/n’ 

I only now realized the sad look on Dustin’s face, he definitely saw them. 

“What’s wrong honey?” I asked in a gentle tone, being cautious  of my next words

No response

“You know you can tell me anything right? Whatever it is that’s bothering you, I can help you”   I hated seeing him down like this. Tonight was supposed to be a night of celebration, not pity. 

“Can I ask you something?” Dustin asked, with a sad puppy dog look in his eyes 

“Of course, anything” 

“Why do you love me? Why are you still with me when you could be with someone else. They can treat you better, what about Matt, you should be with someone like him but your stuck with me” 

His words felt like daggers, it killed me. 

“Well, I love you for many different reasons Dusty. You are kind, loving, you're really funny, I love everything about you. I think you forget just how long we have been together. You have been with me through everything. You were there when I got signed to New Japan, you were there when I founded bullet club. I remember how scared I was to move to Japan by myself, you were there for me, supporting me through it all even on the other side of the world. You are always so supportive of me and my crazy ideas. Heck, you believed in me when I said I wanted to start my own wrestling company. Do you know how ridiculous that sounds?” 

“14 years is a long time” 

“It sure is, and I wouldn't trade any of it. You are always looking out for me, protecting me, without you I would probably be in some Psych ward trying to get clean or let’s be honest dead. Do you remember that you saved my life, quite literally. You never once judged me for my problems, instead you helped me through them, every single one. You taught me how to love, I was broken, shattered into a million pieces and you put me back together. I don’t want to be with anyone else but you Dustin. I love you so much.” 

“I love you too Y/n” 

“Just look at us, sure yeah we have changed but to loved is to be changed. We have a son, I never wanted kids before you changed my mind. We have accomplished so much together. I love you for you, always have, always will. So stop reading that stupid stuff online, it doesn’t matter what they say. You are enough, don’t you ever forget it” 

“Even if I’m fat now?” asked laughing to lighten the mood

“Shut the hell up boy, you are not and plus I love me a dad bod” I said laughing 

“Thank you Y/n, sometimes I just need that reassurance” Dustin said as he shifted in the bed, laying his head on my lap. 

“Anything for you my love. I will always love you” 

“Always?” 

“Always” 

[diamondzoey]

*Kicks out the door* more questions for the bug army!

1. Your bug was doing something and than hear a small voice

Asher: Hello! I’m Asher yearwood it’s nice to meet you!

2. So this one is kinda angsty, so how would your bug react if one of the scientists (Who experimented on jemma) ask them where jemma is and how would they react or say?

3. If they were to meet a westhaven (one of siren’s son asmr series) character which one would it be

4. If they were a dragon or gator what kind would they be

@willowve01 @astralbulldragon13 @aspenm00n @rozeliyawashereyall @proxdragon @littlesiren79 @kaiamtt @dreamyshape @rozeliyawashereyall @idontevenknow7878 @castbracelet240 @insignificant-anarchy @stxph-artist @strayharmony943 @fennaboysenberry @keyaartz @threeweekinsomnia @wilderrorcard @redacted @iistxrmyskyii @asmrbrainrot @lunaritychuwolf

A/n: hopefully I tagged everyone and if I didn’t let me know

[riskyalt]

ORDEM IN QSMP THE SAGA CONTINUES PART 4 YEEHOO

I did my studying and i do sincerely hope this is accurate boy oh boy

q!Jaiden chose Energy for her element, and that's also something that's been sitting in my mind for a while. I've had to struggle a bit to connect the dots for this one as well, but ultimately I think it does actually make sense.

Energy is the intangible - the transformation and chaos, the anarchy and constant antithesis. It's the unexplainable and the unexpected, the arbitrary and impulsive. q!Jaiden is chaotic, in her jokes and references its most apparent, but theres something else in there that I think needs to be looked at following that train of thought.

I think Bobby's death led largely to q!Jaiden being Energy. That torrent of inner anarchy and conflict, that chaos and transformation was part of q! Jaiden's struggle after witnessing the Federation take her son from her. It's the intangible grief and complete retraction from all the other islanders that makes sense for the intensity of Energy to me.

That being said it is important to mention that q!Jaiden is NOT pro-Federation please lads. She believes that it's for the greater good that she makes the Feds trust her, and is actively aware that she might be manipulated.

Energy overloads the effects of Death, removing that detached apathy towards cessation and replacing it with the arbitrary and anarchy instead. Energy doesn't loose time in spirals, it lives each moment for better or worse.

q!Jaiden did have denial about the death at some points. It was just so hard to believe - her son. Bobby. Was dead. She accepts the tasks from Cucurucho because she wants to protect all the other eggs so fiercely that it could be mistaken for something like Blood.

Though I don't think Blood fits someone like q!Jaiden. She experiences powerful emotions don't get me wrong - yet it's never been her core to me. I've never seen that as a central aspect to q!Jaiden's character as we see in, for example, q!Roier. I don't think Knowledge fits either, q!Jaiden doesn't strive information as much as someone like q!Cellbit who makes it a key detail of himself - rather q!Jaiden would be the type to live in a hopeful delusion until being forced out of it. That doesn't go to say that q!Jaiden is naive or overly optimistic, I think she always had the undercurrent subconscious telling her that it's wrong, but she didn't see point in listening to it.

I don't see her as Death either. As I previously mentioned, she has no apathy towards death. She is constantly grieving and caring and worrying over the prospect of loosing someone or something, far too often to be Death.

So that leaves us with Energy. And I fully agree with that choice.

I hope I'm writing this not OOC please prayge 🙏

[willinglyghoulified]

Guys, I did a thing! I WROTE! (:

"With the Brotherhood and the Institute out of the picture, the Gunners are the last biggest threat to the citizens of the Commonwealth. It's time for Gwen to make good on her promise and wipe the cutthroat mercenaries off the map for good. But she's looking beyond the big victory and planning for the long-term future. After amassing a sizeable team consisting of a two hundred citizen soldiers, a prewar doctor, an Institute scientist, a Vault-Tec sales representative, an ex-Brotherhood soldier, a die-hard Minuteman, a Synth who's handy with a wrench, and General Atomics' finest butler, Gwen's ready to take the fight to the Gunners and restore the Commonwealth to a livable state. However, Hancock's power-struggle in Goodneighbor is just beginning. After the Brotherhood's recent escapade pushing drifters into safer territory like Goodneighbor and Hancock losing his right hand, Fahrenheit, someone's keen to push Hancock out of office -- for good."

Newest chapter for my Fallout fanfic Book 3: Hope Restored can be found here on Wattpad and here on AO3. If you haven't read my other installments, I beg you to read them and give me your honest feedback. ♥ More info on each book under the cut if you're curious.

My Fallout 4 series:

Book 0: The Diaries of Anarchy - a presequel that focuses on Hancock's backstory and covers roughly 37 years of his life.

Book 1: Bombs on Monday Morning - the classic Fallout 4 origin story of my Sole Survivor (Gwenora Rose Isham) with a twist where synth-Shaun isn't a synth and isn't her son (no spoilers!)

Book 2: For the People - my SS finds inspiration in her newfound love, Hancock, and decides to kick the Brotherhood out of town and put someone new in charge of the tech-crazed army all while finding her way into motherhood again.

Book 3: Hope Restored - the Minutemen take on the Gunners to finally free the Commonwealth of the last of the Terrible Three, and my SS amasses a team of specialists to plan for a healthier and more sustainable future. Meanwhile, Hancock is having a power struggle in Goodneighbor and attempts made on his life without Fahrenheit's protection.

Book 4: Forgotten Paradise (UPCOMING) - the Nuka-World experience where my SS and family take a trip to Nuka-World on a family vacation, except Hancock is forced into being Overboss with an ex-girlfriend looming over him while my SS is locked behind bars. "Shaun" has his own adventure, too.

Book 5: How to Cure Eternity (UPCOMING) - My SS is obsessed with her own mortality after marrying a Ghoul, and since Hancock's forbid her to attempt ghoulification, she desperately searches for a cure for Ghoulism. She also finds out that sentient Ghouls are sterile after beginning her battle with baby fever. A fluff piece but still an important installment for the next book.

Book 6: Nuclear Mystery (UPCOMING) - the Far Harbor experience. Nick needs the help of his old partner and my SS agrees to help "just this once" because she recently announced she wanted to enjoy a life of retirement to keep up her health while battling Molerat Disease, skin conditions from untreated sun exposure (she's albino), and war wounds. Walking through the thick mists of Far Harbor leaves much to the imagination as you can barely see in front of your face and giant Gulpers prowling the abandoned streets. What happens there changes Gwen forever...

Book 7: Locked Inside (UPCOMING) - after leaving the Commonwealth and traveling the Wasteland, Gwen and Hancock uncover the existence of other Vaults throughout America and attempt to save anyone who may still be trapped inside. What she didn't count on was encountering all the experiments that were still going on, including "curing Ghouls" and even using them as their nuclear reactor...

[joels6string]

More Than My Father's Son

Joel Miller x f!OC

Chapter 3 - A Helping Hand

Summary: Settling in Jackson has proved far more difficult than you originally imagined.

Rating: E

Word Count: 3.2k

Content: NSFW, high levels of violence normal to the TLOU world, angst, fluff, slow burn, miscommunication trope (it’s Joel Miller…), Joel’s traumatic childhood, getting together, eventual smut, canon divergence after SLC, fix-it fic

“I had asked you,” you continued, voice shaking and hollow as the scar on the side of your leg began to twinge, “for one thing…and you didn’t—“ “You’re damn right I didn’t! I have lost enough,” his tone was hard and unwavering, unapologetic but desperate, “I don’t need any more blood on my hands.”

Chapter 2 || Series Masterlist

What exactly did it mean to acclimate? Was it an actual change that slowly rippled through your body and psyche alike rewriting scripts and forging new paths to lead you to new emotions, new experiences, a new life? Or was it simply taking the old and shoving it behind a door, your new reality boarding it up with whatever small blockades it could find to keep the past at bay? Every slam of it against the feeble barrier threatening to send you rappelling into ruin. That’s what it felt like. 

Tommy and Maria had agreed to let you out on patrol with one catch, you spend half your required working time training up the patrolmen on what Tommy had referred to as a “dying art.” Three days a week you rode through the paths of the mountains that still felt more like home than the four walls that housed you, the other two or three dragging along as you tried to harness what little patience your frame contained to help the hopeless with the collection of bows and quivers that went unused in the armory. 

“No,” you sighed, stomping over to a kid that couldn’t be more than 17 and lifting his elbow, “you’ll go straight into the ground.”

“Sorry…” he mumbled, guilt joining your agitation, the dark clouds rolling in representing your souring mood just as much as the storm you’d been warned about this morning. 

“Pack it up!” Maria called, relief flooding you as she stopped beside you, “Not you.”

As much as Maria Miller was trying to become a friend, she was also the leader of Jackson, although she hated the title. Maria made decisions when she had to and never more, leaving the residents of the town to figure out as much on their own without risking anarchy, the rules established long ago and abided by without much resistance. On most days, she felt like an equal, but when it was time for business it was made very clear. Her face hardened, spine straightened, and her intonation sharpened, it made your stomach drop to the dirt.

“When’s the last time you went to the market?” she asked, arms crossed over her chest, “Joel says you haven’t been by. And Indy told Tommy you gave her your voucher last week.”

“Tommy gave me a bunch—“ you began, but Maria’s hand shooting into the air snapped your lips shut. 

“We gave you enough for a week, maybe two. It’s been almost a month.”

And you still had more than half of it left. Although your fresh produce was eaten quickly so as not to waste it, the meat had gone untouched and the dried goods were used sparingly, meticulously rationed and stored for longevity. As Maria awaited a response you wouldn’t give her, the words you knew she’d respond with echoed in your ears. You’re not out there anymore. 

“Go see Joel,” she finally conceded in your silence, “He wants his freezer back.”

If Joel wasn’t at the Tipsy Bison, he’d wait another day. Your stomach had yet to adjust to the food that was served, but scotch was something that had always gone down easy. The fire at the back of your throat was a comforting heat, that warmth radiating out from your belly to your fingers and loosening tension you always seemed to forget was there. 

“When are you gonna pay this tab, Deacon?” Seth growled as he slid a second your way, the almost empty bar quiet enough to almost welcome his attempts at debt collection.

“Here ya go,” the sound of a plan backfiring drawled from your left, “Should cover it.”

The stool creaked beneath his weight as he took a seat, the glass perched between your fingers no longer feeling like a chalice of relief as Seth hummed in approval at Joel’s currency of choice. 

“Fan of venison, Seth?” you taunted before draining your glass, sucking air through your teeth as you passed it back to him, “Trade ya.”

“He’s got more than enough to cover it,” Joel growled, Seth’s gaze sliding over menacingly to find an unwavering hazel stare only a fool would argue with, “You drink too much.”

“How would you know?”

“Cause I just paid your debt.”

“Technically I paid…”

“Technically.”

The silence, it was always so easy. Maybe it was because you both enjoyed it, that had already been established. The confidence of familiarity was a balm. This mutual respect born from the instinct to survive had morphed into whatever sat heavy in the inches separating your body from his, a constant weight that was both comforting and tangible. 

“You got a haircut,” you finally chimed, enjoying the way the lines around his eyes deepened as he furrowed his brow. 

“Yeah,” his voice practically vibrated in your chest, “Better than doin’ it myself.”

“I like it when it’s longer.” 

He paused, your statement catching him off guard and derailing his intentions. You were looking just as thin as you were a month ago while both he and Ellie had packed on a few healthy pounds. The purple beneath your eyes was still dark and your skin sallow, and he hadn’t been the only one to notice. 

“Ellie says there ain’t shit to eat at your place.”

Was everyone watching you? 

“Guess it’s a good thing I’m not hosting a dinner party anytime soon,” you replied, eyes focused forward though you could feel his own fixated on your face. 

“Funny you mention that. Ellie insists you come by tonight, she found herself a cookbook. Tommy and Maria’ll be there too.”

“My ceiling leaks. So, might have to accept.”

“It what?”

The change in his face wasn’t subtle. His body went rigid as his attention snapped entirely to you, the speed at which he moved causing you to flinch and your eyes turn to find the source of his alertness. Then, you realized it was you. 

“My ceiling leaks. It’s not a huge deal,” you brushed off, remembering the first summer rain that had woken you from a rare deep sleep a few days after moving in, “it’s just upstairs. I sleep on the cou—“

“Jesus Christ,” he muttered, “Why the hell are you livin’ in a house with a leaking roof?”

Because it had been more than anything you’d been given before. Misery hadn’t turned you around on the map to gratitude as you’d begun navigating this new, disorienting life. The same four walls welcomed you home every night, gates and guards protecting a space you didn’t fear the people walking between like the ones before it. You’d smiled here, laughed, and despite your instance that you didn’t belong, the residents of Jackson had done nothing but prove you wrong at every turn. If the roof leaked, then so be it. 

“I didn’t know who to ask,” you answered after a pause, just needing something to say, and you immediately regretted it the moment his nostrils flared. 

“Me!” He sounded almost offended that it needed to be stated, “You ain’t eatin’, I’d bet my last dollar you ain’t sleepin’—“

“Yeah well, you don’t have a dollar so…”

Every muscle fiber in his body twitched with the urge to walk the hell away from you until the forests captured in the color of your eyes welcomed him home again. 

“You drive me fuckin’ crazy,” he muttered, getting a drink of his own from Seth who still lingered close by, “Put this on her new tab.”

The amber liquid burned on the way down, igniting the fire kindling in his belly further. Muscle defined the freckle-dusted stretch of your arms, the tank top you wore snug across your torso, and your hair hung down from the half-braided updo you sported like a curtain cascading down your shoulders. You looked tense enough to snap, did he piss you off that bad? 

“Hey Joel,” a voice too sweet called out from the door, his attention snapping instantly over to a woman you had yet to be introduced to, “Tommy needs you. Horde.”

“God damnit.”

“Maria is going to see Ellie.”

“Alright then.”

He felt you leave before he saw it, the rush of air your quick departure blew against his back had his attention snapping from Francine in front of him to you storming out of the door. The way your fiery locks stood in stark contrast to the darkened skies like an eternal flame, not even the rain pouring from the skies enough to snuff you out. 

“Ready?” Francine asked after an awkward pause, her voice wary and confused.

“Yeah,” he grunted, pouring a second glass Seth had clearly sensed was necessary back in a single toss before venturing into the downpour.

Drip. Drip. Drip. Drip. 

Finally, those kitchen pots had a purpose. Enshrouded in the dark that had settled over the town, you sat on the edge of the bed, your eyes following each droplet of water as it plunked down against the metal, each pop immersing you back to a more familiar world. The putrid smell of the damp underground tunnels you’d found yourself crawling through more often than you’d liked transported you back, a shiver shooting up your spine as the reminder of the bone-chilling cold and decaying remnants of a world long-dead burrowed in your chest. 

It was like a siren song the way that curved bow of wood sang out from the night. It sat right beside your back door, your hands aching to feel its taut string and tattered quiver. If the rain soaked you to the bone, at least you had a healthy supply of dry clothes to put on upon your return home. And a hot shower. 

Your boots squeaked along with the old stairs as you stampeded down, a clap of thundering masking the slam of your door against the siding as you ran out into the rain, the drops cooling your sweat-slicked skin. The air was heavy and humid, the petrichor filling your nostrils so comforting you contemplated bottling it up and saving it for the next episode of melancholy that overtook you. 

Upon moving in, Joel had somehow ensured a few bales of hay made it to your backyard. With the first fire of your bolt into the dense, compacted grass, you were reminded you had yet to thank him for that. It was too late for it now. 

Within minutes you were soaked to the skin, your clothes clinging to your body in ways that felt too familiar and too pleasant. This shouldn’t be satisfying, but the flashes of lightning across the sky illuminating the mountainscape before your eyes welcomed you into its treacherous embrace. 

Even through the pouring rain and booming thunder, you heard the crunch of a rock beneath a boot, your own feet too solidly planted to be the culprit. Your hand shot to your belt as you whirled, the blade of your knife mere centimeters away from a figure kept hidden by the darkness. When a white-hot blaze seared across the landscape again, the hazel eyes you’d seen haunting your dreams boring down on you flared, his expression nothing short of perturbed by his current predicament. 

“Why do you have that?” he asked with an air of annoyance, his rough, calloused fingers plucking the weapon free from your iron grip.

“Never know,” you snapped, turning your attention back to the collection of arrows accumulating in your target, “Why are you here?”

“Walkin’ home.”

“Your house is closer to the stables than mine.”

“I took the long way.”

The arrow’s song as it soared through the air broke the silence that had reclaimed the space, and despite his intrusion, it wasn’t lost on you that your grip was slightly more relaxed, your jaw less tense. 

“Lemme look at the ceiling,” he sighed, your fingers freezing as they ran along the feathers perched between them. 

“It’s fine,” you lied, knowing the pot you’d used to catch the droplets was probably near full, “I’m already soaked.”

“Your god damn roof leaks—“

“I don’t care!”

He’d begun to close distance, the way his sodden T-shirt stuck to his body not lost on you as you dared a peek through the corners of your eyes. When he pulled the bow from your hand, you didn’t protest, instead widening the crevice left between you into a canyon as you approached the edge of your yard and plucked each arrow free carefully. The heads were still dry, the innermost layers of the bricks of hay still dry, unaffected by what was happening at the surface. 

“Why don’t you go inside and dry off?” he suggested, this time you hadn’t heard him approach.

“I prefer it out here,” you replied.

“I’m startin’ to pick up on that.”

“Aren’t you perceptive?”

That quip had his face hardening. His nostrils flared before his palm swallowed his chin and mouth, his attempts to regulate his irritation failing. It had been weeks since you’d spoken to him, hell you’d barely held a conversation with him since you got here, and he hated how much that bothered him. He’d kept up with you through Ellie, and even she’d grown worried. When the initial shock of settling here had worn off, it had been replaced with something far more sinister. Something everyone had come to find concern in.

“Go eat somethin’” he sighed, “I brought you food—”

“For fucks sake,” you muttered beneath your breath, “Just give it up already.”

“Give what up?” His voice thundered along with the skies. “We ain’t out there anymore! Stop acting like it!”

“I’m not your responsibility anymore!”

“I just wanna help—“

“I never asked for your help, Joel!”

From the moment you’d fired that arrow off to land between his feet as he approached the building you’d been hidden in, you’d never asked him for help. It was Ellie that had insisted you tag along, and who were you to give a kid the weight of guilt to carry? You were burdened enough by it, saving her from that had been worth any cost. So every time he’d offered to keep you going, to find you a better place to settle, you’d accepted. And that landed you here, in a house you knew nothing about leading a life you were ill-suited for. 

There was an undeniable tug you felt towards the man standing three feet away, staring at you with confusion and apprehension. It terrified you. The way your eyes shot around your empty bedroom searching for him when you woke with a scream and how your fingers brushed over his neat handwriting in the patrol logs; it made you want to run. You just couldn’t be sure in which direction. 

“I had asked you,” you continued, voice shaking and hollow as the scar on the side of your leg began to twinge, “for one thing…and you didn’t—“

“You’re damn right I didn’t! I have lost enough,” his tone was hard and unwavering, unapologetic but desperate, “I don’t need any more blood on my hands.”

“Am I your penance then? The balm to your scathed conscience? Fix me and you’re absolved of your sins?”

“It ain’t like that…”

“It is exactly like that. You should have left me where you found me.”

It was like a knife to his chest. Your face was unreadable, hardened like stone, the night too dark to see if that flicker of vulnerability was sparkling in your eye. He’d seen it before. But even that might not have been enough to convince him that your words had been a lie. 

“No,” was all he gave, it was all he needed to say, and when your mouth opened to retort he was already prepping to stop you in your tracks. 

“What are you two knuckleheads doin’ out in the rain?” Tommy’s lighthearted voice sliced through the tension, both of your shoulders relaxing as he came into view, “You know there’s a whole house behind ya?”

“I was just going in,” you answered, eyes still locked on Joel, his not willing to lose whatever battle of wills you’d entered. 

“Well, before you do, be ready at 0700 tomorrow. Both of you. We’re cleanin’ up.”

“Cleaning up what?”

“Oh, you didn’t tell her?”

No. Joel had somehow forgotten about the horde of 60 he and Tommy had stumbled upon. Not that informing you of that was why he’d come here in the first place. He listened as Tommy filled you in, begging your face to change, the corners of your lips to lift even slightly, any hint that the rage you’d been hurling at him had subsided. But you gave him nothing, simply nodding at Tommy’s instructions to be at the stables and leaving him to dwell on this exchange overnight. 

“What’s the deal with you and her anyway?” Tommy inquired with a mischievous lilt as the light of your bedroom began to glow.

“How do you mean?” Maybe playing dumb would work. 

“I ain’t ever seen you so smitten before.”

The reaction was too over the top, Joel knew it and Tommy certainly did. A theatrical wave of the hand and too loud a scoff was telling, Tommy’s smirk signaling the failure of his ability to keep the lid on whatever was brewing and ready to burst. 

“The hell are you on about?” Joel snapped, just because he had given himself away didn’t mean he had to admit it. 

“Oh c’mon Joel, I’ve known you most of your life. You think I can’t pick up on a thing or two?” 

“Boy, you forget I’ve done all this already?”

“Please. We both know Rebecca wasn’t real. That was obligation. This is somethin’ different.”

Ire blossomed across his cheeks, that wasn’t a name he ever wanted to hear again. It didn’t matter that the wounds she’d left behind were over three decades old, they’d never quite scabbed over, the slightest scrape enough to reopen them entirely and send blood oozing over every clean surface he’d been able to wipe the evidence free from. 

“Don’t…” Joel cautioned, malice thick in his gruff timbre.

“You brought her all the way here,” Tommy pressed, “Why?”

“Hell if I know.”

“Because you feel somethin’. That’s why.”

Your silhouette caught the corner of his eye, the curtains maintaining your privacy as he watched you pace past the window. He could practically feel your anxiety, the urge to storm in and quiet these demons that ran rampant in your head quelled by your final words to him. 

You should have left me where you found me.

“Tell me the ground doesn’t feel more solid beneath those boots when she’s around.” Tommy’s insistence was only making this worse, harder to ignore. 

“I ain’t listenin’ to this,” he sneered, it was his turn to run now, “You got your happy white picket life. Don’t shove it on me.”

“Shove what? God forbid you be content for a god damn moment of your life, right? Can’t be Joel anymore if you crack a fuckin’ smile.”

“That’s enough.”

Tommy’s hands went up in surrender, but Joel was well aware the war was far from over. In the years after Rebecca, he’d done the same thing, attempts at hooking Joel up with the women that threw themselves at him, each date ending in disaster until he’d finally put a stop to it. He hated that Tommy might finally be right this time, the ground did feel more solid when he found himself wandering through your gaze, the weight of you clinging to his torso a comfort he’d come to miss. 

“Her ceiling leaks,” Joel parted with as he turned, his bed calling him in from the rain, “Fix it.”

Chapter 4

[cozzzynook]

Hi I have a rather depressing dribble

I want to preface this by saying I have a little I guess headcannon for when bots spark merge

That afterwards they kinda have telepathic abilities like in sense8 where they can experience where the other bot is no matter where they are

And so roddy is sparked by megs and is with megs when they escorts him to get executed per his sentence and after Roddy sees them carry him off he goes into emergence so drift and other bots that were with him rush him to go see ratchet and first aid in med bay and as roddy is pushing out his sparklings out megs in another place is about to be excuted and for a few second before his spark is eliminated roddy sees him standing over him (due to the sparkbond) and hes crying happily seeing his sparklings being born and megs can see roddy standing over him also crying and they both share one last kiss in their spsrkbond telepathy connect then Megs right before he dies says they're beautiful and I love you Rodimus of nyon then their connection is severed when megs spark is snuffed out and rodimus is is agomy feeling his conjunx die while drift and first aid (holding roddys twin sparkling after roddy pushes them out) and other bots there watch in horror with drift asking ratchet if there anything he can do for him but unfortuanly rodimus has to ride it out and they have to hope the spark sever wont fully kill him

So while Roddy is having his and megs sparklings he also experiences Megatron dying

The song I was listening to while thinking of this was Day Is Gone by Noah Gundersen & The Forest Rangers (song is from the sons of anarchy soundtrack lol)

If you would like to add more please do I'm horrible with coming up with new ideas lol

No you are incredible with ideas 😭

I don’t want you anywhere near my transformers party 😭

You have a beautiful mind

[transman-badass]

The Prince in Yellow

450 words

“He knows of you.”

An incline of the other’s head, a gesture that meant nothing to Niel, neophyte he was to the Court. The figure lounging on the plush yellow fabric drummed slender, glittering fingers. In the light streaming from the windows nearby, the masked figure, draped in gold, shone as his father did. The son of the King, beautiful, terrible, spoke.

“Does he?” the Prince said. Something inside Niel shivered. 

“He mentioned you by name,” Niel said. “I’m not sure how he knows all this, but I’m trying to figure it out. You know - I don’t think he’s a spy or something but, he… Nobody normal should know about any of this.”

The Prince shifted, rolled over onto his stomach. Niel tried very hard not to look at the body revealed beneath the fabric, the jeweled piercings and delicate chains accenting that divine body. Maybe he should’ve tried harder. The eyes beneath the mask shone with amusement.

“You’re right,” the Prince said, kicking his upright legs in the air. “He must have previous experience with the Court - and that could be trouble.” A hand propped up his chin. “This friend of yours is trouble, isn’t he? But not to us.”

Niel shifted. “O’Tipp wants him dead,” he admitted. “And in Arkham, when he wants a man dead, that man won’t have the time to write up his will. He rules that place, everywhere, except for the University.”

“And you’d come this far to save your friend’s life.”

“A little king,” the Prince said, voice heavy with his smile, “A man who thinks he can rule without consequences.”

The Prince reached out and picked up the goblet on the table between them.

Niel breathed.

“Lazarus is a good man,” he said. “At least, that’s what I thought. He helped me get my job. I never wanted him dead. I want him safe. But if he’s a runaway from the Court, or a spy, or a traitor-”

“That isn’t something for you to worry about,” the Prince said, shifting. His legs crossed as he pushed himself upright. Lifting up the mask, Niel glimpsed human lips opening, and closing, as the liquid of the goblet flowed into the Prince’s throat. The mask settled in place again. “A human being, living or dead, is a better offering than I expected you to make.”

The goblet set down with a thud.

“I accept it.”

Niel jolted. The Prince raised his head, the long hair streaming down over his mask. His eyes locked with Niel’s, and the world began to sway, with fear, with relief.

“He doesn’t know it yet,” the Prince said, “But whether he be traitor or pet, Lazarus Core will be mine.”

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