#especially when around either cars or roman

[garlic-sauc3]

its thinking of brian o'conner hours tbh

#literally thinking about him so hard #and i know my friend is too because he told me he was going to go home and read fast & furious fanfiction #its kind if funny how hes mostly frowning or making a blank expressiom in fast & furious #until somebody mentions cars #like he was frowning through all the fbi talk and then when he was shown the different cars he could choose he was beaming #but in like 2 fast 2 furious he was smiling so much #especially when around either cars or roman #he was just happy to be there #also #completely off the point #but its like funny to me how brian keeps being on the fbi or the police or whatever #like in the second movie its just fucking wild because they go 'oh hey brian we know you betrayed us and broke the law a million times but #how about you become an fbi agent? surely you wont betray us' #and then he steals their money in the end with roman yknow #and then in the fourth movie hes an fbi agent again SOMEHOW because he literally keeps betraying and stealing from them #and then betrays them agsin #hes just a funny guy i guess #you know that hes only doingn it because he can do illegal street racing and get away with it and also they give him cars #anyways hes on my mind i think

[cobragardens]

Aziraphale's Ascot: An Analysis

What's most interesting to me about the ascot Aziraphale is wearing when he turns up in Crowley's car in 1967 is that it's very fashionable.

An ascot (American), or day cravat (British), is a band of material meant to be worn inside the shirt collar, terminated on each end with a long wide tongue of that same fabric.

The band goes around the back of the neck, and the tongues are tied in the front and tucked into the open neck of a collared shirt. An ascot displays a wide sweep of color just below the wearer's face to flatter their complexion and show their personality.

And the late 1960s was the ascot's peak of popularity. The Duke of Windsor wore them; the mods wore them; British Invasion bands wore them. Fred wears an ascot in the Scooby-Doo cartoons. Lance Corporal Shadwell wears one. They were a huge trend.

On the surface this doesn't seem like Aziraphale at all. His previous appearances indicate his stylishness in ancient Rome is merely serendipitous overlap of Roman fashion with his personal preferences for white robes, blond hair in a Brutus cut, and gold wing-themed jewellery. In 1601, 1793, 1941, and all contemporary scenes, his style is decades to more than a century off the fashion of its time. We know he's into bow ties by 1941, and he's hardly one to adopt a style merely because it's popular; so why the ascot in 1967?

One possible explanation is that Aziraphale misses the clothing of the Victorian period and leaps at the chance to wear something that harks back to a time when he felt at home, sartorially speaking.

I don't think that's it, though, at least not in Show Omens. For one thing, traditional ascot ties (what a British person would call an ascot or an ascot tie, rather than a day cravat) are not at all the same accessory as the ascots of the 1960s: they're formal rather than semi-casual daywear; they're made of thicker silk, often with a woven rather than printed pattern; and they're worn outside the shirt and collar. More importantly, we've got two scenes of Aziraphale in the Victorian period, and he's not wearing an ascot tie in either of them: he's wearing a long cravat tied in a wide bow, a precursor to his bow ties.

I therefore propose a different explanation for the ascot of 1967.

As Aziraphale has clearly never been anywhere near a polyester fibre in the whole of his celestial existence, and as he always affects an appearance of idle hereditary wealth, we must presume that this--

--is silk. (In fact in the 1960s, a silk ascot in light colors was a signal of upper-class status.)

And we know Aziraphale likes silk, because by 2023 he's been wearing a silk velvet waistcoat for 200 years.

I again advance the argument that, despite himself, Aziraphale is a voluptuary by nature: a person who directs their energies toward the pursuit and enjoyment of pleasure, especially (but not solely) sensual pleasure.

He can control his appearance at will, and yet he has a barber; that means he enjoys the pleasure of a haircut and maybe a hot shave. (I have similar suspicions about his manicured hands.) The barber has recommended new cologne, which means Aziraphale has an old cologne, which means he likes to smell beautiful scents. He eats for sensual pleasure. He drinks for sensual pleasure (much more so than Crowley, who drinks for the pleasure and escape of inebriation). He listens to music for sensual pleasure. He attends the theater for pleasure. Reading is as much a sensual pleasure inside your own head as it is intellectual self-stimulation (which is its own kind of pleasure in turn); and believe me, collecting books is as much a sensual pleasure as a logistical and a philosophical one.

Aziraphale even agrees to an Arrangement with a demon to give himself more spare time for his pursuit of human pleasures. And then he and the demon become friends, because what could be a greater pleasure than indulging yourself in the good company of someone clever and kind and beautiful, who flirts with you and tells wicked jokes you mustn't laugh at--except perhaps for the pleasure of making that person smile in return?

Fun fact: The silk of which casual ascots are made is finer than the silk of either traditional ascot ties or neckties, because ascots/day cravats are made to be worn inside rather than outside the collar.

In 1967, instead of his usual crisp bow tie around his usual tightly buttoned collar, Aziraphale wears an open collar and a day cravat because the fashion of the 1960s lets him keep silk against his skin.

And there's one other thing, too. Compare Aziraphale's ascot to Lance-Corporal Shadwell's, or to the standard ascot knot:

The edge of Azirapale's ascot sits below the edge of his shirt collar where it should sit above, and the cascade spills almost an inch in front of his Adam's apple instead of flush against his neck. Aziraphale has tied his ascot low and loose.

It allows him to bare more of his throat to Crowley than has been sanctioned by custom for 2,000 years.

How long after Aziraphale reverted to bow ties did Crowley think about that?

#good omens #good omens 2 #ineffable husbands #aziracrow #aziraphale #aziraphale's ascot #good omens 1967 #good omens s2 #aziraphale's day cravat

[littlegaydruid]

@crunadh regarding this post here. This is a long post so hold on to your hat.

Thank you for your question! I honestly felt much the same way starting out. It's kind of a hard practice to get into if you don't join a group for it.

I’ll point out first that my practice is solitary, so what I do likely looks a fair bit different than those who belong to a grove or order. I'm also in no way an expert. If anyone else wants to reblog or comment with their own resources, please do.

It's also my opinion that, much like with being a witch, there’s no “wrong” way to practice druidry exactly. The fact is modern druidry (or "druidism") is really just an inspiration of what we think the historical druids did because we have so little information on them. The information we do have almost entirely comes from roman sources, and that was usually in the context of like, conquest. So if anyone tells you they know the one true way to be a druid, side-eye them because they either don't know what they're talking about or they're being highly disingenuous. With that out of the way…

I personally try to do three things (and feel free to try any of them to see if they work for you):

On a spiritual level, I go out into nature when I can. I believe humans are very much a part of nature and unfortunately, we've become disconnected as a society because of greed, capitalism, and the mindset that we are somehow better than nature. For this reason, rebuilding and maintaining a connection is very important. (This was easier when I lived in the mountains instead of the city but I make do with what's around, whether that's in a park or with the birds who come visit the trees outside my apartment.) At most I’ll bring a sketchbook, and I’ll walk among the trees or wherever I am, perhaps sit with them a while. And I’ll just observe, and meditate. I like to take notice of the sounds around me- the leaves rustling, the birds, the squirrels, the deer, the stream. Sometimes I talk to the trees. They don't literally talk back, but very occasionally I notice a subtle shift in their presence if that makes sense. (If there are any gods/goddesses you believe in, this is where I might suggest you could incorporate them or leave plant/animal-safe offerings in some way, but you don't have to.)

While I'm doing these things I try to maintain an awareness and respect for the fact that I was not the first one here. Both in the sense of "hey, this is not my house, but my grandparents' house," and in the sense that, "hey, Indigenous folks were here before me," because I'm from the US. Imo it all goes hand in hand and is a simple step but a necessary precursor to physical action.

On a mental level, I study. I like to research herbalism and how to identify the different types of plants and animals. Not necessarily to forage (though I do enjoy that, too), but I found it's a good way to get to know the plants and wildlife in an area, especially if it's hard to get outside sometimes. I also like to research both local folklore, and "Celtic" histories and mythologies (I'm a bit of a reconstructionist). This includes researching what we do think we know about the historical druids and the history of the modern druidic practice and spiritual concepts like Awen. I also like to study philosophy, ethics, and morals because I've found that it ties in quite well.

Then finally on a physical level, whenever I go out, I try to give back to nature. To me, picking up trash is a perfect offering to nature/land spirits. If I can, I try to find a new use for it so it doesn't end up in a landfill (recycling is a bit of a lie, so to me "reuse" takes priority). If I see an animal that was hit by a car, I try to see if there's any way to (safely) move it from the road. Little things like that can go a long way.

I also take action at a voter level and monetarily where I can. I mentioned in my other post that I greatly enjoy the concept of solarpunk. The mentality behind it (one of hope) is one that I like to embody, and I like to use it to help spread awareness about the environment and potential solutions to many of the climate problems we face, especially in the areas that I'm most knowledgeable (for me that's the construction and housing industries).

I do small things as well in observance of the solstices and equinoxes. I don't exactly follow the wheel of the year, but I want to mention druids do have one that is similar to the Wiccan wheel of the year but with different names for the festivals.

Resources

For getting into it yourself, I can point you to a few places.

OBOD (druidry.org) - You might have found this one already because its one of the first to show up when you search for druidry on google. The Order of Bards, Ovates and Druids was founded in the 1960's by Ross Nichols and currently lead by Philip Carr-Gomm. They have distance learning kits that you can buy if thats your cup of tea. You can also join their order. If not, they still have a fair bit of resources and information on their website for free. They also host lives on their facebook and youtube. Philip Carr-Gomm has his own youtube as well.

The Druid Network - A resource founded by Emma Restall Orr after she left OBOD. It has information you can read about regarding practices, events, and has a whole list of books that you can read to get yourself started.

Living with Honour, A Pagan Ethics by Emma Restall Orr - She has quite a few books actually and you'll find some of them recommended on TDN, but I wanted to mention this one because it's not listed there and I think it's still relevant.

What do Druids Believe by Philip Carr-Gomm - This one IS mentioned on TDN, but I wanted to highlight it in particular as a kind of supplement to the info you can find with OBOD.

If you're interested in incorporating Celtic reconstructionism into your druidry, I recommend you check out Alexei Kondratiev's Lorekeeper Course as a potential place to start. Its an entirely free online resource.

Mhara Starling has a nice little video here talking about the differences between witchcraft and druidry with a friend of hers so I'd recommend giving it a watch.

Unfortunately, there aren't really set rules on how to do druidry like there are with organized religions, but hopefully what I've mentioned here will help point you in the right direction and get started. <3

#little gay druid thoughts #druidry #celtic paganism #paganism #pagan #witchcraft #green witch #druidism #druid tips #witchblr #environmentalism #environment #solarpunk #baby witch #forest witch #spirituality #meditation

[mamirhodessxox]

Hey There Delilah (Part 3)

Cody Rhodes x Fem OC!Reader

(Delilah Jones)

Storyline: Delilah was born and raised by the beach in L.A and grew up in a home where her parents expected her to go to Harvard & become a well known woman who marry’s a man who is a lawyer after high school. But that’s not what she wanted, She always wanted to own a boutique/flower shop & she did, once her parents discovered she wouldn’t attend college they left her to fend for herself but allowed her little sister Kinsley to visit or sleep over whenever, Her little sister always had an eye for WWE but Delilah never understood why but little did either of them know one of Delilah’s customers would become well acquainted. (Creds to @alyyaanna for helping me w the storyline)

Contents: Toxic parents, Angst, Fluff, Smut in later chapters, Based in May 2023, Alcohol, Violence, Corruption Kink, Size Kink, ETC.

{~I'm very serious with you guys interacting with my writing!!!! it would make me so happy & excited, the more comments & reposts the more inspiration i have to write :) likes and comments are strongly appreciated so please COMMENT COMMENT COMMENT COMMEENNTTT the more comments the more content <3!!!~}

So far the summer had been going well, Cody introduced the sisters to his well known backstage friends like Jey, Roman, Rhea, Randy & Seth, They would all often come by the store on their own times or all as a group to visit the girls whenever they had time. Rhea was super close with Delilah and even discussed with Cody that she was to kind for her own good especially when it came to mean people.

Today was a very special day because He was leaving tomorrow to spend the week of summer slam in Arizona so he wanted to have a little Cody & Delilah day together, yesterday he spend the day at a water park with her little sister & now it was time for his attention to be with Delilah, He had Rhea & Jey watch over Kinsley for the day while he was with Lilah, she was so over the moon & excited! The held onto his hand giggling about her excitement while they drove around Santa Monica together, & then Cody parked somewhere “C’mon sweetheart let’s switch your gonna learn how to drive.”

Her face dropped a little “Cody I dunno how to drive” he nodded and got out waiting for her to leave the passengers side “I know baby, That’s why i’m teaching you.” She nodded nervously and got out switching over to the drivers side while he had her start off slow, he followed the car for a bit while she would accidentally slam on the breaks “Baby your not even anywhere near something to be breaking yet just keep going.” She nodded & started driving but she ended up speeding up “Wai- Slow down ba- okay..” he stood with his hands on his hips while she breaked but bumped into a light pole just a smidgen.

“How about I just keep driving, How’s that sound angel?” She smiled and threw a thumbs up out the window & got up scampering back over to the passengers side, in which he did take over, They went to go get ice cream but she insisted they shared whatever in his choice since she felt bad he was trying to pay for her cone. They walked around & took turns finishing the sweet treat before he cleared his throat “If there’s an emergency you know who too call right? Seth & Jey are gonna be here instead of summer slam so if anything were to happen you call them & then you call me alright?”

She frowned nodding her head before tearing up a little bit which made him stop “Oh princess I promise it won’t be that long, I’ll be back faster than you know it.” She pouted and flopped her hair on his arm “Cody I don’t want you to go I’ll be so bored when you’re gone.” He chuckled and hugged her tight while kissing her head “Sweetheart I promise every night we’ll call and talk about our days okay?” She sniffled nodding her head while he made her look up at him “It’ll be alright pretty girl, I promise I’ll be back and you can have all of my attention for as long as you need.” She smiled especially when he gave her a kiss & rubbed her back assuringly before spending the day together before his exit into Arizona..

And then he finally left, it had been going smoothly for the first 3 days until 1 specific night, Delilah was shutting down the store after waiting all day for him to text her back, for the last 2 days he had been slacking on texts or calls which caused her to already distance herself a little bit since she assumed she had annoyed him or upset him in someway, so she would distract herself by cleaning up the store & emptying the register while her little sister was already asleep upstairs, Usually Delilah would look on her phone for latest updates on pop culture in general until she saw one specific article where the headliner began with “Cody Rhodes & Nikki Bella rumored to be dating?!” And the poor things heart dropped, Usually at this time Cody would be FaceTiming her and that he did which made her panic more.

Lilah’s heart hurt a lot, she had become way too attached to Cody & ended up feeling a little foolish after seeing the headliner. She didn’t know what to do in this situation so she went completely radio silent, She shoved the phone in her pocket and let it buzz while she made her way upstairs to go to bed, for the next few days Cody would be trying to get ahold of her but he would never get a response which left him in confusion, this gave him more of a reason to stop by the shop when he came back, Jey & Seth would keep him updated as they reported to him that the little angel would seem down in the dumps and would only keep the shop open for half a day which was never ever like her.

Meanwhile Lilah would be a sobbing mess, She cried her little heart out but still kept her kindess towards others feelings first before hers, she would stuff her head in a pilow & whimper about it and just feel utterly awful for becoming so attached to a person she shouldn’t have, She didn’t know exactly when he was coming back but she assumed soon, Today she was in the back planting a few flowers distracting her mind while Kinsley sat in-front of the register coloring & doodling but suddenly the door chimed, “Hey Kins, I haven’t heard from your sister for a bit have you seen her?” The little girl scoffed while Lilah listened in with an intrigued ear “Delilah’s very busy, maybe youu! Can turn around & Leave!” Kinsley glared and threw her star dust figurine at his head, He furrowed his brows at the sudden sass “Well aren’t you just a little ball of joy huh? I’ll be back tomorrow.” He addressed before leaving while Delilah peeked her head out of the backroom “Kins that was a bit mean don’t you think?” She shook her head & continued drawing.

The next day Delilah was standing in the boutique area picking out certain laces for s new dress to make while Kinsley was in her usual spot, Cody saw them from outside of the window & rushed inside “Jesus christ Delilah I was worried sick why haven’t you been answering your phone?” She turned around startled as if she was a deer in head lights “I- Store! I really have to get something from the store!” Kinsley glared at Cody while he crossed his arms “Sweetheart if you’re gonna lie at least make it sound believable.” He grabbed her hand and dragged her off to the back “Now why in the world are you not answering my texts baby? It’s almost as if you’re avoiding me.” She had no idea what to do as she never knew how to properly communicate so as to be expected she was overwhelmed and stumbled on words he couldn’t even make out until he squeezed her hand a bit

“Angel you need to breathe before you give yourself a migraine.” He warned softly and practiced his breaths with her until she randomly started tearing up “Nikki- you! Girlfriend! You have a girlfriend!” She cried out which made him frown a bit but immediately stopped when she made her self start to cry and pick at the ends of her hair “Oh baby no, no, no no” he wrapped her in his arms “While some of it is infact true most of it isn’t, we had a moment for 1 single night and that was it, me & her aren’t dating or anything it was just some dumb hookup, I felt horrible despite us not being together I only want you Lilah, Your the only girl I could ever want in my life.” He assured her "I’m sorry you had to read that baby, you didn’t need to find out in that way" she whimpered nodding her little head while he chuckled "You okay Angel?"

she sniffled rubbing her eyes that were already red from her constant daily sobbing "S-So i'm not annoying?” He shook his head cupping her face “oh baby no, never, you’ll never annoy me angel.” He frowned wiping off her face with his thumb “Baby if you’re upset about something you can’t just shut down & store it all in, you absolutely need to say something.” She nodded very meekly before curling into him “I know ‘m sorry” she mumbled but he gripped her face “I don’t want you apologizing to me one bit baby.” She nodded before pulling away while he cleaned up her face “Let’s just hope your little sister becomes my #1 Hater yeah?” She smiled softly and held onto his hands “and you need to start voicing out and using your big girl words kapeche?”

Sh sniffled nodding her head “Kapeche.” she smiled softly & held onto him while he started to sway them side to side to help calm her down, hopefully this would help her realize she’s the only one that could have his entire heart.

🏷️ list: @ginswife @coolpastelartshoe @greatkoalawizard @cokolin044 @kotoriarlert @alicerosejensen @bunnybot55 @agent-dessis-posts @adollonyourshelf @valkyrurr @alyyaanna @niknakbucks92 @mini-rhodes @southerngirl41

xtripleiiix’s Masterlist

#cody rhodes x you #cody rhodes fanfiction #cody rhodes edit #cody rhodes gif #cody rhodes smut #cody rhodes fic #cody rhodes imagine #cody rhodes #dashing!cody rhodes #american nightmare #wwe liveblog #wwe imagine #wwe live event #wwe gifs #wwe fanfiction #wwe x reader #wwe lb #wweedit #wwe smackdown #wwe superstars #wwe raw #wwe #wwe nxt #wwe royal rumble #anon request #anon <3 #send anons #thanks anon! #anonymous #anon ask

[romeulusroy]

Succession Preference: Baby Listening To Screamo

A/N: I love screamo music, especially female screamo. I feel like Baby Roy would, too, just like blasting it in their headphones/room/any car they're in, lol. I think it would definitely be jarring for their siblings to say the least 😂 Feedback is always appreciated!!! 💜💜💜

Connor can't believe what he's listening to. Is this what's considered music these days? You turn it up as loud as possible, screaming along. He doesn't want to be rude, but he absolutely fucking hates it. He very kindly suggests maybe you should put on your headphones instead, but you're not understanding what he means. It isn't until a few weeks later when you're blasting it through the apartment do you realize he's cringing. He questions why you like, what you like about it, if there's anything to like at all. You just shrug. It scratches an itch in your brain. It feels good to be angry, to scream. He doesn't like a swearing or any of the sexual innuendos either. He doesn't think you should be listening to any of this despite being a grown adult capable of your own decisions. He thinks Logan should be monitoring this, but you remind him it's just music. That's all. Nothing to get worked up about, definitely not something to drag your father into.

Kendall thinks it's hilarious. He's not sure how or when you got into screamo, but it's great. Fitting, really. No one would ever expect it. The first time he hears it and sees how much joy it brings you, he can't stop smiling. Surely every time you're in your room and blasting it you're slowly killing your father. It blasts through the walls of the apartment, annoying the hell out of Logan. He orders you to turn it down, but there's no way you can hear him. Kendall can't help but smile. Out of all of you, you definitely give Logan the hardest time. He's older now, not as scary as when him and the others were kids. He definitely asks what you're listening to, what artists you like, just to see the joy spread across your expression when you talk. From what he heard from Connor, he thought it was like, devil-worshiping-satanist music. This stuff is harmless, just angry. Everyone feels angry. You need to get it out somehow. This is far better than any coping mechanism he has.

Shiv doesn't consider it music at all. She doesn't consider what Kendall listens to as music either, so it's nothing personal. She doesn't stop you from listening to it or tattles on you to Logan like Connor would, but you definitely know to use headphones around her. When you don't have them, you have no choice but to play it out loud. When you share a car she pretends she doesn't hear it, though you swear you see her mumbling along to it. Tom hates it. He's constantly turning it down, and then you turn it up, and then you argue. Regardless of how she feels, she always takes your side. She doesn't understand what's so appealing about it, why you like it, or how the hell you get away with it with your father around, but she's not going to stop you. You've had a mind of your own since you could talk. No one was going to forbid you from doing anything you wanted, especially listening to your music. It's not her taste, but she admit's some of very specific songs are a teensy bit catchy. You'll take it.

Roman, quite frankly, eggs you on. He doesn't care what you do or listen to as long as it's annoying to everyone else. The fact that it brings you so much joy is just an added bonus. He always lets you play your music in the car or jet, on any speakers at a party, etc. He likes it. He likes the anger. At first it used to make him jump, make him flinch, but the more he got used to it, the more he likes it. Now he can guess right almost all your songs. He likes that it makes Connor squirm. Come on Old Man, like you wouldn't have listened this in your younger years. No, I don't think I would have. He loves to see the look on Marcia's face when it vibrates through the apartment. When she urges him to tell you to turn it down, he just goes into your room and gives you a thumbs up. They're out of control. Won't even listen to me. Me! Of all people! She just rolls her eyes, realizing it was no use. Does he like your music? It's not really for him. Does he like the reaction it gets? Of course he does. They hate it and you love it.

#prefrence #headcanon #connor roy #connor roy imagine #connor roy headcanon #connor roy x reader #kendall roy #kendall roy imagine #kendall roy headcanon #kendall roy x reader #shiv roy #shiv roy imagine #shiv roy headcanon #shiv roy x reader #roman roy #roman roy imagine #roman roy headcanon #roman roy x reader #succession #succession imagine #succession headcanon #succession x reader

[lookismfanfics]

HELLO can you PLEASE write a fluff for Jason yoon i love your works btw 😊💋🫶

yes

𝐂𝐚𝐫 𝐖𝐚𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠

G/N Reader Notes: I’ll die for Jason. He’s my roman empire. Anyway- some fem pronouns mighta slipped in there! Fluff... sorta!

Jason Yoon- the average-height drink of water that usually glues himself to someone else’s side. Anyone’s side… except for yours… it seems. Dark, brooding, intelligent; Jason could be found hovering around Jake Kim, rolling his eyes at the boss’ stubbornness and ill-timed humor. When he wasn’t with Jake then he was with Brad Lee; the two of them would walk wherever and whenever they wanted. Jason wasn’t even an extrovert… and yet you always saw him in the company of someone else. Well, actually, maybe he was an extrovert. Either way, he seemed to keep away from you. It was bothersome really. Jason had an attractive, captivating personality. A little brash sometimes, quiet and intuitive, but also stupid and hotheaded. He was a piece of work, honestly. Besides that… all he seemed to do was Taekwondo. You had nothing against it initially, but after a while it became the most attractive thing on the face of the planet.

That dark, sharply-angled glass of water… that stalky hunk, that mass of eye candy, never seemed to bat an eye in your direction. It’s not that you wanted his constant affection… but it was true that you hung around Big Deal more often than most. You were even considered friends with a majority of the highest ranking members. You weren’t overly attracted to any of them though. I mean… they were nice… but…

You sat on the stairs outside of a flower shop. Leaning against your knees, hands cupping your face, and feeling a little drowsy. It’s been thirty minutes since you arrived today to the street. Not very long. Half of that time you’ve spent here. On the stairs. Eavesdropping.

Honestly how can you not eavesdrop? The boss is washing his junky car, and his idiot goons (affectionate) are helping him. Lots of drama is bound to ensue.

At present Lineman and Jason are bickering about… the mental capacity of the other. You sit there, listening to them banter back and forth. While you admit, it’s not easy to tire from listening to Jason’s voice, or Lineman’s for that matter, it’s getting a little excessive. Especially when you try to interject and defend Lineman (who you’re pretty close to), only to have your words snuffed out.

Not glance your direction; not even a hint of acknowledging your words. At this point you’ve given up. You just watch as the two talk back and forth. “Don’t use the rough side of the sponge you idiot-”

“There’s no wrong side of the sponge! Look… they’re both soft-"

You sigh and refrain from smiling, watching as Lineman sheepishly realizes Jason was, once again, correct.

“Good try Lineman,” you chuckle. He turns to you with a slightly embarrassed smile. Jason, sure enough, ignores you again. He plows right on with a playful insult (at least it sounds more playful).

You furrow your brows slightly. You’re little hurt, actually. You understand, you can’t be friends with everyone. You’re probably not going to ever pluck up the courage to confess to him. Chances of ever being a couple are near zero. But still… something about him is starting to bug you. The hose nearby has fallen limp to the floor as the boys scrubs suds onto the car. You notice it’s still on.

Jason swats Lineman’s hand away as he begins invading his side of the car to wash. He shakes his head and tries not to smile, and succeeds. Lineman gawks, “What?”

“You missed some spots over there. Look-”

“(Y/N) might stare if you bend over…” Lineman mutters.

Jason whacks him with his soppy washcloth, glaring. Like he cares. He continues washing the left door of the car, shooting Lineman tiny glares when he can. “Hey Jason, d’ya think L-”

SQUIRT.

The entire side of the car is suddenly drenched in water. Including Jason. Lineman jumps backwards in surprise, staring down at his sopping wet arms and then back towards the car. The water turns off and drips from the hose, which then clatters to the floor as you awkwardly retreat.

Jason (and Lineman…. And Jerry now too-) stare back at you, exasperated and confused. Number Three stars to form a bitter glare, dropping the cleaning supplies and beginning to stalk towards you.

You take a couple steps backward, “Just… stop being such a jerk.”

You’ll admit… he was actually kinda… when he was all wet…

Arms wrap around your waist and you’re hoisted off the ground, carried and forced against the car… drenched in water yourself by Lineman and Jerry as Jason holds you in place.

Your sides hurt from laughing by the time they’re finished… and all you mind can think of is that Jason’s actually being chill for once.

Lineman turns off the hose, letting the water drip off to the side and grinning at your sopping wet selves. Jerry pats your head politely while you and Jason begin ringing out your clothes.

“I’m not a jerk,” Jason says.

“…Hey-! So soaking me out of spite isn’t jerky behavior?”

Jake calls from the opposite side of the car.

“He’s just being petty!”

#Anything forJason Yoon 😩 #Jason Yoon x Reader #Jason Yoon x GN reader #Jason Yoon x fem! Reader #Jason Yoon x Male! Reader #Big Deal #lookism big deal #Lookism x reader #Jake Kim #Jerry Kwon #Brad Lee #Lineman #(Y/N) #Reader Insert #lookism manhwa #lookism webtoon #lookism spoilers #jason yoon

[writingplotbunnies]

Best Served Cold (5/?)

Pairing: Jax Teller x OFC

Summary: Sophie shows up to her first SAMCRO party complete with fighting and a conversation with Gemma.

Word Count: ~4400

Warnings: angst, illegal activity, possessive behavior, sexual content, canon typical violence

A/N: This is my first SOA fic, so let me know what you think. This is a multipart fic, so let me know if you want added to the taglist.

Later, Sophie stood in front of her bed, hands on her hips, glaring down at the rather small pile of clothes scattered across the mattress. She’d never been good at picking an outfit, doing her hair, finding out if her complexion allowed for warm or cool tones in her makeup. That had been Olivia's job. Over the years, she’d simply do whatever it was her sister had told her. Like adding layers to her hair, and texturizing the ends - whatever the hell that meant. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to look good because she did, especially tonight, it was that the Corps didn’t care, and anytime she’d been forced to dress up, well they provided a uniform for that, too. Raking her hands through her hair, Sophie wished she knew someone in this town she could call for help. Jax would likely make some suggestion about not wearing anything, which, while flattering, wouldn’t exactly be a practical solution to her current dilemma. 

“Maybe if I close my eyes and point…” 

She needed a dog. At least then talking to herself wouldn’t make her feel quite as crazy. But, she talked to herself a lot. Wasn’t anything else to do when she was staked out in the middle of nowhere waiting for her target to finally decide to show up. 

Growling in frustration, she snagged a pair of skinny jeans Olivia had given her for Christmas a couple of years ago, and a burgundy racerback tank top with a screen-printed dandelion on it. Once dressed, she slid on her well-worn black, low-heel ankle boots. Glancing at herself in the bathroom mirror, she figured it looked good enough. Never quite the smoky eye her sister always managed to paint on her face with perfection, but she didn’t look like she’d just been sucker punched either, so she took the win. 

Stopping at the couch, Sophie pulled her ankle holster from her duffel before lifting her foot onto the arm of the couch and attaching it. She didn’t want a repeat of earlier if one of the other Sons or whoever else she met at the party hugged the wrong side of her body. Tucking her phone and ID into her back pocket, she grabbed her keys and locked up behind her. 

Sliding into her car, Sophie took a deep breath. She wanted to make a good impression. After Jax had dropped her back at the station, she’d done a lot of thinking. Maybe it wasn’t forever, this thing with Jax, but she wanted to do her part to make it last - see what it could be. Just because she’d never had roots, at least, not as an adult, didn’t mean she didn’t want some. 

Pulling into the TM lot, Sophie took a moment to take in the whole scene. A far cry from the quiet, but busy auto shop, the place had transformed into a veritable den of debauchery. It kinda reminded her of a few mid-deployment parties she and the teams had set up when they needed to blow off some steam. Excitement thrummed through her veins at the prospect of letting off some steam and having a good time. It had been this part of the MC life that she found most surprising when it came to Olivia. They’d done their share of partying together, but her sister had always been the more reserved of the two. Not a wallflower, but not the cannonball into the swimming pool with a Roman candle in her hand type either. Hers had been a quieter chaos. Maybe that’s why Olivia had been drawn to Drifter - the balance. 

Shaking herself from thoughts of the past, she slid from the car, tucked her keys into her front pocket and walked towards the madness. Fire-filled drum barrels were scattered around outside. Women half naked stood, or sat, with a court of men around them. One leggy blonde had her arms wrapped around a young man who seemed content to do nothing more than suck her tits while she ground herself against him. Off to the left, shirtless men threw punches at each other inside a boxing ring while some of the others, beer bottles dangling from their fingers cheered them on from the sidelines. She noticed some money exchanging hands. 

Glancing around, she tried to locate Jax. She spied who she thought were Tig and Chibs sitting over at some picnic tables. Since they were the only other two faces she recognized, she moved towards them, careful to weave through the small packs of bodies. 

“Hiya, love,” Chibs called when he caught sight of her. 

Tig grinned up at her. “Hello, beautiful.” 

Sophie smiled, but looked behind her. “I kept my car parked far away from your perv eyes, Tig. No more flirting with my baby. She’s too young for you.” 

Chibs laughed and knocked his shoulder against Tig’s. “Got you by the balls.” 

“I wish,” Tig mumbled under his breath. 

She sat on the table next to Tig and gave a friendly pat on his shoulder. “Sorry to disappoint you.” 

He gave her a flirty look. “I’m sure you can find a way to make it up to me.” 

Sophie laughed. “Keep dreaming, man.” 

“Aye,” Chibs said, voice a bit sharp as he glanced down at Tig. “You know how this works.” 

Tig nodded. “Yeah, man. I got it.” 

Chibs shook his head before necking his beer and taking a long swallow. “Not me you’ve gotta be worrying about now is it?” 

Clearly looking for a way to change the mood, Tig looked at a young blond man sitting near them. “Prospect, get the lady a drink and be quick about it.” 

The blond looked at her shyly and offered her a smile. “What’s your poison?” 

“Rum and coke, or a beer.” 

“Go on,” Chibs called as the prospect stood from the table. “Be quick about it.” 

She laughed as he scurried into the clubhouse. “I’d say be nice to the poor boy, but something tells me he’s used to a little hazing around here.” 

“It’s good for them.” 

They all turned to watch the fight, and the kid brought her a drink more quickly than she expected. Taking a sip, she nearly coughed. Sophie had expected a strong drink, but it was like they’d filled the Dixie cup with rum and walked a can of Coke next to it. Rum with an essence of Coke. Now that she knew, she took a smaller sip from her cup as she continued to watch the two in the ring duke it out. The bald one had decent form. He had a wildness in his eyes that commanded her attention. 

Sophie slid from the table, and wandered through the crowd to get a closer look at the fight. She’d always enjoyed the boxing matches the Navy boys engaged in during cruising days. For a few moments, she stood among the other spectators sipping her rum with a splash of Coke and watching the exchange of punches. Both men had grins on their faces. 

“Hey, sexy,” a voice slurred in her ear. His hand wrapped around her waist, fingers inching up her torso, just shy of her breast. “Run inside and get me another beer.” 

Ignoring him, Sophie moved out of his grip, figuring he’d wander off to easier, more willing entertainment. She continued to watch the fight. Not taking the hint, the drunk guy behind her reached out, grabbed her arm and spun her around to face him. 

“Listen, bitch, go get me another beer or get lost.” 

Looking him over, she noticed the kutte, but there weren’t any patches on it. He had dark hair and a stupid-looking face, or maybe that was just the expression on it. The kutte looked the same as the one the blond guy, the prospect, who’d been sent off to get her a drink wore. Seemed prospects were lower in the chain than guys like Chibs and Tig. Not that it would make any difference for her personally, but she wanted to avoid making Jax’s life more difficult if it could be avoided. 

Shaking his grip loose, she moved through the crowd back towards the table. Just as it came within view, the majority of the crowd behind them, the idiot grabbed Sophie’s ass.

“Don’t walk away from me, sweetheart. I wanna have a good time tonight.” 

Eyes at her hairline, Sophie spun around to face him. “The fuck did you just say to me, asshole?” 

“You heard me. Croweaters do as they’re fucking told around here.” 

Sophie rolled her shoulders. “Look, go find someone willing. No isn’t exactly a complicated word - means no.” 

When he reached forward again, Sophie’s patience was shot. She landed a right hook across his cheek, feeling her knuckle split on one of his teeth. Sucking a breath in through her teeth, she cursed. It hurt like a son of a bitch, but seeing the way the idiot’s face snapped to the side made it worth it.

“Go find Jax,” she heard Chibs tell someone. 

Her moment of distraction cost her. The guy backhanded her with enough force for her head to whip to the side. 

“Bastard!” 

Sophie spat on the ground. What kind of an idiot slapped someone in the middle of a fistfight?

Before she could return the favor, arms wrapped around her torso, pulling her back. Across from her, a lumberjack-looking guy with a beanie on his head had his arms wrapped around the idiot who thought no meant please touch me more. 

“Alright, lass, leave him be.” 

Thrashing in his hold, Sophie wanted nothing more than to cover her hands in his blood. “Let me go. Bastard needs to be taught a fucking lesson about respecting boundaries.” 

“Aye,” Chibs agreed. “That he does, but not by you. You got your shot.” 

She stopped struggling only to whirl around and poke her finger into his chest.

“That love tap I gave him?” 

Sophie knew she was screaming, knew she was likely making a scene, but she couldn’t stop herself. 

“Bastard grabbed my arm, then my ass, and took a grab at my breast all without my permission. He’s lucky I haven’t ripped his fucking balls off and shoved them up his ass.” 

She watched Chibs’ face darken the more she spoke, but before either of them could say anything else Jax, closely followed by Tig, came jogging up to the group.

“What the fuck?” Jax asked, eyes moving between Sophie and the guy. 

“Don’t know exactly what happened, man,” the lumberjack-looking man spoke. “But, your girl landed one hell of a punch on Shepard’s face before he backhanded her.” 

She watched Jax’s jaw work as he closed in on the guy who’d slapped her. “That right? You do that to her face?” 

“Never seen her around here before. Wanted a new piece of ass tonight.” 

Sophie started struggling in Chib’s arms again, and managed to slip his grip. Faster than Jax could stop her, she’d lunged forward and punched Shepard in the face and then the kidney. 

“Sophie!” Jax pulled her back. “Come on, stop.” 

He pulled her a few feet from the group, pressed her back against the wall and glared at her. 

“I’m not apologizing for beating the shit out of that fucking creep.” 

Jax shook his head, small grin on his face. “No one’s asking you to.” 

Sophie opened her mouth, but closed it. It hadn’t been the response she expected. 

Jax grabbed her chin and tilted her head to the side, noting the red mark on her cheek. 

“He do that to your face?” 

She nodded. “Asshole didn’t even have the decency to punch me. Little bitch slaps like a fucking girl.” 

Jax pressed a gentle kiss to her cheek. 

Sophie released a deep breath. “Look, I know there are rules or whatever for the girls at these things, and I tried to get him to stop. If he’d just been drunk and handsy and left when I said no, it wouldn’t have been a big deal. But he followed me. I moved away, walked back to where Chibs and Tig were sitting, but he kept following me. No one touches me without my permission, Jax. No one.” 

He nodded. “No one should be touching you. I’m gonna go deal with that, and you’re going to stay with Chibs and Opie while I deal with it.” 

“Jax - ”

He narrowed his eyes. “I’m gonna deal with it, Sophie.” 

Searching his face, she saw the tension in his shoulders, the way his jaw ticked. She nodded. “Make him bleed.” 

With a smile, Jax pulled back from where he’d crowded Sophie into the wall. “As you wish, darlin’.” 

Taking her hand, Jax led them back over to the table. By now, the boxers in the ring had stopped, and a large crowd gathered to where Opie still had Shepard restrained. 

“Jax?” Tig asked, a hopeful expression on his face.

Jax pulled Sophie closer to him, arm wrapped around her in a clearly possessive gesture. 

“He’s gonna pay for that bruise on my girl’s face.” 

“You’re choosing some croweater over me?” Shepard asked, voice incredulous. 

Jax tightened his grip on Sophie in warning. She forced herself to relax knowing he needed to handle this himself. Later, she’d have him explain the hierarchy of this whole thing to her. 

“She look like a croweater to you?” Tig asked, sounding actually curious. “Does she act like one? Use your brain, man.” 

Shaking his head, Jax glanced up at Opie. “Tape him up.” Turning to Tig, he grinned. “Take bets, boys.” 

Grinning like the Cheshire Cat, Tig placed a hand on his chest. “Love you, man.” 

Chibs handed Sophie a roll of tape. “Get him ready, lass.” 

Nodding, she turned to Jax and pointed to the picnic table. “Sit.” 

“Yes, ma’am.” 

She swatted at his arm. “I’m not an officer, but I might let you salute me later.” 

As Jax tugged his shirt over his head, she swallowed, her throat suddenly dry. He caught her watching and winked. 

“What the hell’s going on?”

Glancing over her shoulder, she saw an older man with a gray beard and a cigar in his mouth walking over to them. “I’m teaching the prospect a lesson about touching things that don’t belong to him.”  

Sophie wanted to snort because honestly, who the fuck said shit like that? Still, she enjoyed the way Jax’s voice went low and deep. She focused on wrapping his hands, making sure the tape would do its job to protect his hands. 

“Clay, this is Sophie, Sophie, this is Clay.” 

She smiled over her shoulder at him. “I’d shake your hand, but they’re a bit busy at the moment, but it’s a pleasure to meet you.” 

She heard Clay’s deep chuckle behind her. “Likewise.” 

“What’s going on?”

Sophie recognized Gemma’s voice. 

“Jax is gonna teach the prospects a little bit of a lesson tonight.” 

Even with her back to the woman, Sophie could feel the deep frown on Gemma’s face. Sophie finished wrapping Jax’s hands. Pulling back a bit she motioned for him to hold his hands out. 

“Test it.” 

She watched the way his hands moved as he flexed his hands. Nodding, she smoothed her fingers across the edges of the tape. 

“Looks good.” 

“You’ve done this before.” 

Sophie winked. “Once or twice.” 

Standing from the table, he walked over to the ring, Sophie on his heels. Before entering the ring, he turned and wrapped Sophie into his arms and kissed her like it was his dying wish. When he released her, she staggered back a couple of steps before she felt a gentle hand against her back. 

Glazing over her shoulder she smiled at Opie as he steadied her. 

“He likes you.” 

Sophie nodded. “You got that impression, too?”

“Yeah, it’s good to see him happy.”

The bald guy who’d been fighting earlier in the night entered the ring and gestured for both fighters to approach. 

“Let the ass-kicking begin.” 

He’d barely moved out of the way before Jax lunged at Shepard. She wanted to wince at the sound his fist made against the man’s face, but she couldn’t muster enough sympathy for it. Jax fought like a man possessed. Unlike the earlier fight, this was clearly not for entertainment. Seemed as though Jax decided to work out a few of his demons on Shepard. After a brutal combination of hits, Shepard managed to knock Jax back with a lucky southpaw. Sophie saw the grin on Jax’s face. Watched the sweat slide down his torso, noted the small cut on his eyebrow. Most of Shepard’s face was littered with bruising, and small cuts. Both men had blood on the tape on their hands. When Jax had Shepard on the mats, she grew concerned. He’d clearly won the fight, but if he kept going - 

“He’s gonna kill him.” 

“Happy won’t let that happen,” Opie responded. 

Sophie startled, not realizing she’d spoken out loud. Instead, she nodded dumbly, eyes fixed on the fight. It wasn’t that she held Shepard’s life as sacred or anything, but she didn't want Jax to commit murder in front of this many witnesses. Just when she was going to step in and put an end to it, she saw Happy pull Jax off the now unmoving body beneath him. She couldn't make out what he said, but he whispered something in Jax’s ear that had him relaxing. 

Around her, the crowd went wild with cheers, and many slapped Jax on the back as he left the ring, swagger in his step. She grinned as he closed in on her. 

“Hey, champ.” 

He smiled at her before turning to Clay, face serious. “He’s out. I’ll never vote that piece of shit into my club.” 

Clay took a puff from the cigar in his mouth before nodding, a pleased sort of pride in his eyes as he looked at Jax. “Whatever you say, VP.” 

Jax nodded. 

Clay looked at Sophie, something unreadable in his eyes. “Get him cleaned up.” 

Sophie nodded, knowing something important had just transpired, but without understanding the rules, she didn’t know exactly what. Whatever it was, she thought it was good. Jax swung his arm across Sophie’s shoulders and led them into the clubhouse. They maneuvered around couples in various states of sex before moving down a hallway in the back. He led her into a room that smelled like him, and looked as though no one had ever taught him how to clean. 

“Sit.” 

“You like giving me orders.” 

Sophie grinned. “Occupational habit.” 

She walked into the adjoining bathroom and soaked a washcloth in warm water before coming back into the room. As she’d asked, Jax sat on the bed, eyes hooded as he watched her move towards him. He spread his knees in invitation. Grinning, she moved to stand in front of him, and he brought his hands to rest on her hips. Letting him enjoy the feel of her body beneath his hands, she began to wipe the blood from his face. He hissed when she pressed against the cut at his eyebrow, but didn’t make a move to stop her. Quickly clearing the rest of the blood and the sweat from his face, she threw the towel to the ground before sinking her hands into his hair and tilting his head back. Unsure who moved first, their lips crashed together as his hands moved to lift her onto his lap. 

Sophie moaned into his mouth, loving the way his arms felt wrapped around her. Again, she thought this was all too fast, but when his fingers snuck under the hem of her shirt and began to lift it from her body, she quickly pushed the thought from her mind. Even if it was too fast, too soon - it was also too late. Might as well enjoy it before the other shoe dropped. Breaking apart so Jax could pull her shirt over her head, Sophie looked down at him, loved knowing she’d put that look on his face - the one that told her she was the only thing in the world that mattered to him in that moment. Before he could pull her bra off, she took his hands in hers. 

Kissing his tape-covered knuckles, she met his eyes. “Let me.” 

He nodded. Keeping her eyes on his, she slid from the bed onto the floor to kneel in front of him. She saw the way Jax’s throat worked as he swallowed, eyes dark with desire. Carefully, Sophie began to unwind the tape from his left hand. When it was free of tape, Jax moved to touch her, but she held a hand out, mock frown on her face. He pouted but offered her his right hand. She removed the tape more quickly this time. 

“You should ice them. Tape did a good job, but you really went to town on his face. Nothing’s gonna keep you from swelling and being sore tomorrow.” 

“Later.” 

“Jax - ”

“Later.” 

He hauled her up onto the bed and moved them towards the headboard, settling her against his body. Jax’s fingers teased up the exposed skin of her spine.

“Not packing?”

Sophie chuckled. “Always. Ankle holster. I was kinda hoping this blonde biker would want to wrap his arms around me. Didn’t want anything getting in the way.” 

Jax kissed her. She reveled in the feel of his skin against hers. The sweat on his torso cool between their bodies as she writhed on top of him. As his fingers once more reached for the clasp on her bra, a knock at the door drew them apart. 

“Zip it up,” Opie called through the door. “Bobby’s here. Clay wants you outside.” 

She felt Jax’s sigh as he threw his head back against the pillow. She muffled a laugh against his chest before pressing a kiss to his skin. 

“Gotta do what the boss says.” 

“Clay can fuck off.” 

Sophie laughed. “Come on. You and I both know they’ll just send someone else, and Tig doesn’t seem like the knock politely type.” 

Jax groaned. “Picked up on that?” 

Sophie slanted him a look. “Yeah, he’s real subtle.” 

Figuring he’d not get up on his own, she rolled from the bed and looked around for her shirt. Glancing over at Jax, he stood from the bed and ran a hand through his hair as he walked into the bathroom. She realized he didn’t have a shirt with him. 

“You keep spare clothes here?” 

“Yeah. Should be a clean shirt in the dresser.” 

She opened the drawers until she found the right one; she pulled out a white shirt with SAMCRO screen printed on it. Pulling it to her nose, she sniffed it just to be sure. It smelled like him, and, thankfully, it also smelled clean. When he came out, she tossed it at him and ignored how domestic the whole moment felt. Too much. Too soon. Too easy. 

“You coming?” Jax asked as he stood at the door. 

Sophie picked up her shirt. “I’ll meet you out there.” She paused and pointed at him. “Someone got blood on my shirt.” 

“Just grab one of mine, babe.” 

“Thanks. I’m still gonna see if I can get the blood out of this one. Go on. I’ll be fine.” 

Jax nodded. He stepped to her and kissed her gently before leaving the room. Sophie sighed and shook her head. Had Olivia felt like this? In the early days with Michael, had she been this overwhelmed? They’d met while Sophie had been deployed, and when she made it home, they were already pretty established. Even though Michael understood Olivia had been holding back, waiting for Sophie to meet him. He’d joked about being more nervous meeting her than he had been their parents. She’d just grinned because while her parents could be intimidating, Sophie could’ve killed him and he’d never have heard the bullet. 

Making her way into the bathroom, she glanced down at the shirt. It was a lost cause, and she hated washing blood out of things. Better just to burn it and move on, but she also hated shopping for clothes - especially without Olivia here to go with her, or more specifically to make her go at all. 

“Fuck it.” 

Sophie tossed the shirt in the trash can she saw under the sink before walking back to the dresser. She pulled another one of Jax’s shirts from the drawer. This one was dark blue with SONS screen printed across the front. Sliding it over her head, she sucked in a deep breath, loving the way the shirt smelled. After all the posturing outside, she should feel something she thought. Some sort of feminist bullshit about belonging to a man, but she didn’t because the feeling didn’t suck. 

Closing the door behind her, she walked down the hallway towards the main room of the clubhouse. She saw Gemma at the bar. Sophie watched her eyes widen ever so slightly before her lips pursed into a thin line. Maybe wearing Jax’s shirt wasn’t such a good idea. It wouldn't have been the first time she’d wandered around with someone else’s blood staining her clothes.

“Still haven’t worked out what you’re doing here,” Gemma began as she pulled the tops off of two beers. 

Sophie took the hint and moved to the counter. Taking the offered beer, she saluted with the neck before taking a swallow. 

“You’re clearly not one of them - ” Gemma gestured to the various women scattered around the room having what appeared to be a good time with the available men. “Even without his crow you act like his Old Lady and you don’t even know it.” 

Setting the beer down, Sophie met Gemma’s gaze. “I’m not gonna sit here and insult you by pretending I understood the details of what you just told me, but I know a hierarchy when I see one. Regardless of what position I do or don’t hold on it - no one has a free pass to my body unless I want them to. That’s not what I came here for.”

“Seemed just fine with my son having a free pass to your body.” 

Sophie smirked. “He’s got good hands.” 

Gemma smirked. “I think you’ll be just fine, but you might want to avoid punching any more guys in kuttes.”

Sophie held her hands out. “So long as they keep their hands to themselves, we have no problems.” 

“This club,” Gemma said. “It’s Jackson’s life. It’s in his blood.” 

Sophie frowned. “I know. But, it’s been like a week. Don’t be picking out China patterns just yet. What I feel for him it’s intense, but it’s also new.”

Gemma lit a cigarette. “Does it scare you?” 

“Of course it does. Scares the shit out of me,” Sophie answered. “It’s real.”

Part 6

Master List

#sons of anarchy #sons of anarchy fanfic #sons of anarchy fanfiction #soa fanfiction #jax teller #jax teller x oc

[fangirlwriting-stories]

They Say You Can't Fight Fate (I Say Fucking Watch Me)

Chapter One

Chapter Two:

Roman and Remus were both experts at cheating the system by now.  Roman showed up here often enough that he was trusted to take Remus out on day trips sometimes.  They didn’t happen nearly as often as Remus liked, but they happened every now and then.  They’d gone to rage rooms and carnivals and on long drives through the countryside.  The memories were some of Remus’ happiest.

Roman told the people in charge of Remus’ care that he wanted to take him out on their birthday the next month, to get Remus a cake he could shove his face into (that part was actually true.  Remus had always wanted to do that during a year when he could remember it instead of just as a one-year-old, which he could not remember and was therefore completely unfair).

They gave him the go-ahead, and it was like a weight suddenly lifted from Remus’ shoulders.  Suddenly nothing was so bad, because all of this absolute bullshit had an end date.  Remus made sure not to show his relief, but holy shit did he feel it.

When the day arrived, they gave Remus a set of normal clothes and a day pass, and Roman showed up as soon as visiting hours started.

Remus wasn’t quite sure what to feel as he was walking towards Roman’s car.  The whole world seemed slightly off kilter somehow, as if someone had boxed Remus on the ears and now they were ringing.

As the car came into view Remus felt a gentle hand on his arm.

He turned to see Roman mouthing his name— no, wait, he was talking.  Okay, maybe the ringing ears were actually happening.

Remus shook his head, trying to clear it.  “What?” he asked.  His voice sounded like he was underwater.

Roman looked at him for another minute, and then just shook his head, took Remus’ arm, and pulled them both towards the car.

Remus stared out the window as they drove away, at the building getting smaller and smaller behind them.  Was he really never going to see it again?

Roman’s hand on his arm again finally snapped his brain back to reality, and Remus glanced over at him.

Roman was looking at the road, but the concern was still obvious on his face.  “Are you okay?” he asked.

“I don’t know how to exist outside that fucking place, Roman,” Remus said weakly.

“It’s okay,” Roman said, squeezing his arm.  “I’ll help you figure it out.”

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Remus asked, turning in his seat to look at him more directly.

“A little late to be asking that, isn’t it?” Roman asked.

“Well, no, not really.  We could just go get a cake and you could take me—” Remus stopped and swallowed the words, unable to say it.

Roman gave him a look.  “Yeah, sure I could,” he said.  “You’d be fine.”

“But you’re giving up your life,” Remus said, looking back out the window.  “Mom and Dad, your future, your friends.”

“What friends?  You’re my friend.”

Remus turned to stare at Roman again.  “What, are you telling me you don’t have any friends?”

Roman’s hands tightened around the wheel.  “No one could figure out how to stop making fun of you long enough to make a good impression.”

Remus kept staring at him.

“I do not want,” Roman said firmly.  “Anything this stupid town gives me.  And more than that, I don’t want to stay here if it means I might lose you.  The only thing this place has ever done for me is make me feel worthless, and then it took away the one person who didn’t make me feel that way.  Why would I want to stay here a second longer than I have to either?”

Remus reached across himself with his free arm and squeezed Roman’s hand.  “You’re not worthless,” he said quietly.

“Maybe,” Roman said.  “But I do know that I’m never gonna find out if I stick around here and keep waiting for things to change.  I’m tired of letting other people tell me what to do.  Especially when it comes to you.  So let’s go shove our face in a cake and then we’re gonna head west until the car gives out.  Sound good to you?”

Remus took all that in for a second and nodded, looking back out the window.  Even though he couldn’t see the mental hospital in the rear view mirror anymore, it still didn’t feel real.

Roman drove through town, which looked different from the last time Remus had seen it a couple years ago.  The ice cream shop was closed down in favor of the Dairy Queen that had moved in, which was just the worst.  The school was shabbier, with still no repairs in sight.  Their house, that Roman drove by once for the heck of it but Remus barely remembered, looked the same as it apparently always did.

(Roman slowed as they approached the house, and asked Remus if he wanted to say goodbye to their parents.  Remus flipped off the house, said “There, said it,” and then they drove on.  The experience did remind Roman to turn off his Find My Phone app though, so their parents were good for one minuscule thing after all.)

They stopped at the cake shop, where the baker waved at Roman as he walked in and disappeared into the back, likely to get the cake.  Roman must have set this up beforehand.

He reappeared with a simple cake, since obviously Roman couldn’t tip anyone off what they were planning.  So it just said “Happy Birthday To Us!”  It was a sheet cake long enough for the two of them both to fit alongside, so Remus lined up next to Roman, the two of them shared a grin, and then shoved their faces into the cake.

The baker sighed, seeming a tad irritated, but Remus stuck his tongue out into the section his head was in and managed to get a couple bites of cake down.

He pulled his head up to a universe covered in cake and very difficult to see.  His face was covered in cake and frosting, and he tried as best he could to lick it off, laughing at Roman standing next to him doing the same.

The baker passed them both a couple of towels, and they both used it to wipe a decent amount of cake off of their faces, though Remus still managed to eat some of it.

“There’s a bathroom in the back,” the baker said with a sigh, picking up the ruined cake that Remus got the feeling he didn’t like having ruined and carrying it into the back, followed by Roman and Remus.

They both headed into the bathroom he directed them to, and Remus used the towel and the sink to wipe off the rest of his face and hair.

“How is he in the cake business if he doesn’t want to make smash cakes?” Remus asked Roman as he stepped back from the sink.

Roman raised his hands in a shrug and started cleaning off his own face.  “Maybe they’re just not a big part of his business.”

“Or maybe he just wants to have his cake and eat it too,” Remus said with a grin.

Roman gave him a deadpan look.  “Dude, come on.  Don’t go for the low-hanging fruit.”

“Don’t tell me what to do,” Remus said brightly.  “I’ve missed all the opportunities to make terrible jokes that don’t have to do with mental hospitals.  Let me broaden my horizons.”

Roman shook his head, but he was wearing a fond smile, and he didn’t say anything else.

They headed back out to the car, grabbing the real cake Roman had gotten them to eat on the way out, and then Roman drove them back the other direction, towards the edge of town.

Remus watched the houses fly past with a growing grin on his face, and when they finally passed the “Come Back Soon” sign, he rolled down his window and flipped that off too, then stuck his head out the window and screamed, just for the hell of it.

“Careful,” Roman said with a laugh.  “We’ve got a ways to go before they can’t track us with ease, you know!”

In answer, Remus screamed again.

He did climb back into the car after a second though, and beamed out at the signs of the countryside starting to pass them.  Remus couldn’t ever imagine living in a city.  It might have been easier to hide, but Remus was never going to live surrounded by walls ever again.  No walls, none.  He needed space space space.

They drove for three hours before stopping for gas, and Remus didn’t stop smiling once.

“How are we gonna afford gas by the way?” he asked.

In answer, Roman flashed three of their parents’ credit cards, and Remus cackled.  Yes, they’d probably shut them off eventually, but not before they both got far, far away.

They bought a bunch of snacks from the gas station too, and Roman bought two sets of pocket knives.

They got back to the car, but before they headed out again, Roman grabbed Remus’ arm.

“What?” Remus asked.

“Well, you won’t need this any more,” Roman said, and Remus looked down just in time to see him use the pocket knife to cut off his day pass bracelet.

Remus stopped smiling, and looked down at his arm with nothing wrapped around it.  Roman pulled away and drove off without seeming to give it much thought, but Remus turned to the window so Roman couldn’t see the faint look on his face as he stared down at his arm.  His soulmark was still there, but the medical bracelet he’d taken off when they gave him the day pass was gone, and the day pass was gone now too, meaning nothing anyone could see could instantly tie him to that place, and no stranger they met would know Remus was supposed to be behind cold stone walls living his life by someone else’s assumptions of how he was feeling.

He wasn’t quite sure when he started crying, but eventually he was looking away from his wrist and out at the fields racing past them, tears dripping down his face.

They made it a good way from the exit of the highway before he started to sob, but Roman pulled the car over anyway, turning to Remus in alarm.

“Re?” he asked.  “Re, are you okay?”

Remus didn’t have the first clue how to articulate anything he was feeling, so instead he held up his wrist, gestured to it, and made vague broken sounds.

Roman got it, because Roman always got it, so he put the hazard lights on, parked the car, and reached across the space to pull Remus into a hug.  Remus sobbed into Roman’s arms for a good ten minutes, and Roman thankfully didn’t say anything, just held him close and let him.

There were stories about your soulmate understanding you more than anyone else, and Remus had always thought those stories were bullshit, because Roman got him better than any stranger he hadn’t met ever could.  But if this was really what they were doing, if they were deciding they were soulmates because they fucking said so, and the universe could piss off, then Remus… well.

He could almost get it.

...

Chapter Three

#sanders sides #remus sanders #roman sanders #creativitwins #tw mental hospital #soulmate au #my fic

[with-my-murder-flute]

One of the things I really like about Alpennia's ~magic system is that it's historically coherent with Western history, where the Catholic church held total supremacy over much of Europe for over a milennium, BUT, you can definitely see the cracks that mean an alternate interpretation would totally blow the whole system wide open.

One of the things about being an ex-Catholic history nerd is, it's hard for me to really invest in "our world, except magic" AUs where magic is this totally separate branch of institutional power in Western society, where there is the monarchy/government, there is the Church, and then there is The World of Magic—because the Church, being the largest branch, has always tried to eat its lesser kin; there has been so much warfare about whether the Roman Catholic Church holds precedence over secular governments, or whether secular governments can tell the Church where to GTFO. So it is very fundamentally implausible that, if magic truly exists, the Church has not annexed it and claimed to be its only true source.

Daughter of Mystery is about the "mysteries" of the saints, where "mystery" means both "a secret ritual" (like the Elusinian mysteries) and "an act of religious ministry" (like medieval "mystery" plays). It's an adaptation of things that exist in our world, where Catholic veneration of the saints has always included asking different saints for different things, and honouring them with specific actions, prayers, pilgrimages, and items. That means everything from walking hundreds of miles with bare feet to worship at a shrine, to sighing and chanting, "Anthony, Anthony, turn around, something's lost that must be found" while spinning in a circle, before continuing to look for your car keys.

In this world, the mysteries work. Not all the time, not for everybody, but just often enough to be miraculous. And the Church traditionally holds that God and the Saints are just very choosy about when they bestow those miracles, and it's the job of ordinary people to pray humbly and dutifully and bow their heads when the blessings fall down.

But slowly over the centuries, theologians, philosophers, and eventually, thaumaturgists, have been observing that there is a pattern to when and how the mysteries generate miracles. There are some people who are especially sensitive to seeing or hearing the working of miracles, who can say whether a prayer was answered or a mystery was successful; and there are some people who, much more reliably than others, have their prayers answered. If they work together, they can use trial and error to create far more effective mysteries that produce more reliable results.

This has led to the creation of "mystery guilds", because the guild was the medieval framework for a closed group of people who meet to work together for a specific cause; in this case they were not tradesmen regulating a profession or philanthropists raising money for a cause, but people working to celebrate mysteries in hopes of creating a desired miracle. (I don't know if it comes up in later books, but I imagine the Freemasons in this world are buck wild.)

The Church officially condemns what is called "the mechanistic heresy", which says that miracles don't come from God, but are the sum of the people involved and the thoughts and words and actions they perform. Thaumaturgists have to step very carefully around this issue, because it is actually pretty clear that either case is equally possible, but they want to not die at the hands of the Inquisition. So there's this very real tension where thaumaturgy that was scandalous and near-heretical in its day (which I'm guessing to be the 12th century?) is now essential to understanding modern philosophy, so a nun who disapproves of the field as a whole nonetheless has to teach parts of it if she wants her student to understand why Christian thought and worship of the early 1800s is the way it is—but she won't give that student access to the entire book, just carefully chosen excerpts. And even if that book can be obtained from other libraries, other books of thaumaturgy are so at risk of being deemed heretical that reputable printers won't print it, and reputable booksellers won't sell it.

It reminds me a lot of the practice of human dissection in European history. During the Early Middle Ages, the Church discouraged the practice, which had been more common in Ancient Rome; it held that human bodies were sacrosanct, and could not be in any way damaged or altered after death, because when humans will be given our "new flesh" on the day of the Resurrection, it will be our actual physical bodies that will be revived—so your body had better be in a revivable state, and not cremated or taken apart or anything else.

But slowly, in the 11th and 12th centuries, it became clearer and clearer (thanks in part to physicians from Jewish and Islamic traditions) that dissection was a necessary part of medical science, because doctors and surgeons will just be fundamentally worse at their jobs if they don't have the kind of detailed knowledge of anatomy that only human dissection can provide. So in fits and starts, various regions and bishops and popes made the procedure more legal, even as they limited who could be dissected to those least likely to be deemed fit for the eternal hereafter.

Which, like... it is completely off the chain for us to live in a world where autopsies are performed on everyone, good citizen and hardened criminal alike, in the case of suspicious death; where it is routine to take the vital organs of a dead person out of their body and transplant them into a new one. We couldn't imagine law enforcement without forensic pathology, and we're comfortable with medical science experimenting with the human body in a way that treats nothing as sacrosanct, except knowledge and truth.

So Alpennia is at the jumping-off place for this brave new world. They've been a solidly Catholic country, wedged between France and Switzerland, only slightly touched by the wilder excesses of the Enlightenment and the French Revolution; Napoleon's wars ravaged them somewhat, but a new generation that barely remembers them is coming of age, with the knowledge that all the old truths can be thrown down—if you throw hard enough.

These books are so deeply nerdy. So very much. I love them so.

#daughter of mystery #heather rose jones #alpennia

[lasbrumas]

WTW GHOST GALA ; days 9-16

this week's prompt wrap-up!

day 9; candy corn ↳ Tell us how you chose the title for your WIP.

The thing to know about me is that I cycle through titles like a washing machine, so Burning of the Apiary might not be the final title. That being said, I chose it because symbolically it reflects on the themes well, I think, especially regarding burning down the old, starting with a clean slate, and the feelings of the protagonist toward the end of the novel.

day 10; witch ↳ Write or brainstorm the opening paragraph.

Notes: Dolores’ mother dies, leaving her with no ties to her home or the land around her. She dies after a particularly rough winter, one full of floods and poor crops and a sickness that swept the valley. Dolores believes the valley is diseased, so she leaves it for the safety of an isolated convent.

day 11; bats ↳ How would your WIP change if a minor character became the protagonist?

For this exercise, I decided to view the story from the point of view of Abadesa/Abbess Ana Isabel, and realized wow it would change a lot. The reason for this is that the Abbess is a minor character because she’s got her own plot going on, technically separate from the main plot, though it is related. From her perspective, she would be less focused on the cult and the well-being of the students (though she tries to remember to ask about them), and she would be more focused on the eerie premonitions that haunt her. Bad news for her, though, because if she’d paid a little more attention to her students, she might have figured out what her visions were trying to tell her to prevent.

day 12; candles ↳ After naming all of your characters: tell us the meaning behind their names.

Dolores - sorrows, pain

Cecilia - Derived from Caecilius, possibly from Latin caecus or “blind”

Camila - Unknown meaning, derived from Roman cognomen

Ixora - A large genus of tropical shrubs or small trees (family Rubiaceae) that have leathery evergreen leaves and terminal corymbs of showy salver-shaped flowers and are often cultivated as ornamentals in the warm greenhouse

Ana Isabel - Anna comes from the Hebrew Channah, which means “favor” or “grace.” Isabel is derived from the English Elizabeth, which itself is a derivative of the Greek form of the Hebrew name Elisheva/Elisheba. Means “my god is an oath.”

Adriana - Feminine form of Adrian, which is derived from Hadrianus, a Roman cognomen that meant “from Hadria.”

day 13; coffin ↳ Where's your favorite place to write?

Thanks to work and having limited access to certain places, I don’t have a favorite place to write. Basically anywhere I can get decent wifi and focus on writing is the best place for me. When I was a student, I often wrote either in my dorm room when no one was around or in the library. Now, I typically write at home, sometimes at work (when I can sneak onto Google Docs) and wherever I go. I’ve even written during a road trip. Fun fact: the year I won NaNo with Saintless, I was writing in the car on my laptop as someone else drove lol.

day 14; haunted mansion ↳ Describe a setting in your WIP.

A short description of the convent from my WIP notion: The Abbey of the Sacred Heart is a small, isolated religious school located in the high mountains.. Girls of all ages and from across the country attend the convent’s school to become proper ladies. It is a combination finishing school and temple to the Mother. Sacred Heart is known for its apiaries and sweet honey, the latter which is used as a source of revenue and sustenance for those who live there.

day 15; black cat ↳ Flesh out your antagonist: Who are they? What are they? What do they want?

Highlights: The antagonist is Sor Adriana. She is second in command to the Abbess and oversees the school. She is also one of the last nuns to have joined this convent and stayed. Her main goal is to serve the Mother, and her surrogate mother, the Abbess. With an unwavering devotion to her deity and the woman who oversees the convent, she is willing to do anything to please them.

day 16; pumpkin spice latte ↳ Write a basic plot synopsis for your WIP.

Using the one I pitched for another server.

On the same day that the Valley’s eligible debutantes arrive for their first term at convent school, a young woman arrives begging to be taken as a novitiate prospect. Isolated and far from home, the young woman has no choice but to befriend the seemingly vapid group. But as she develops feelings for the top debutante, something dark lurks in the corners of the abbey. The Valley’s daughters have brought their world of secret societies with them, and soon, the novitiate may be forced to choose between destroying them or succumbing to the terrifying, yet seductive, realm of the elite.

#wtwcommunity #wtwevent #w. burning of the apiary #writing.

[omnivorousshipper]

Hi Omni!

If you still do request can you please do one where Deckard is just being cute.

Yes I can!! Deckard deserves to be cute all the time!

~~~

Deckard could never have predicted where his life was heading as a child. He had never thought of himself in any kind of profession when he a smaller, only that he would be taking care of his family and future family.

He never would have thought he'd become an assassin, an agent, or a traitor. He had gone through so much he was glad his younger self didn't know about.

But, once he had become what he was, he also would never have predicted where he would end up after that.

For example, he never thought he'd be baking a birthday cake inside a house he had personally blown up. 1327 had been rebuilt bigger and better- of course with Deckard telling Dom to make the kitchen larger.

Smiling, Deckard had already taken the cake out of the oven and begun stacking the three tiers. A large bowl of icing sat next to him, with a few different piping bags filled with different colors.

Both Dom and Mia had told him not to go all out, but they obviously didn't know who they were talking to.

Carefully placing the second tier onto the base, Deckard wasn't aware of the audience he had.

--

After their heist in Rio, Tej had actually used their little RC car trick several times through his own little stints. It came in handy, especially when he wanted to be sneaky.

Like now.

Tej wasn't sure what to think of Deckard Shaw, only that he was glad the guy was on their side and willing to out his life on the line for them. But, other than that, he had no idea what to think.

Thus, the sneaking.

Of course, he hadn't been the only one. Roman stood just beind him, his chin nearly resting on Tej's shoulder while the kids stood next to his chair. Jack and May had fallen in love with Deckard, while Baby Brian thought of the man as a fourth parent. And of course, he was Sam's step father now.

"What's he doin?" Roman whispered. "This man can't seriously be doing this!"

Tej would agree if they weren't watching on his laptop of Deckard Shaw, a badass assassin, baking a cake.

The man was wearing an oversized sweater (they were all convinced it was Luke's) with an apron that was covered in flour. The apron read "kiss the chef" with a bunch of hearts all over it. A present from Sam.

There was a streak of red frosting on Deckard's cheek but he didn't seem to notice. Instead, hid face was screwed up in concentration as he worked on the cake. While anyone else would think he was performing heart surgery with that kind of intensity, Tej couldn't help but find him...

Adorable.

There was no way around it. Deckard Shaw was absolutely and completely adorable when he baked. Or cooked. Or just worked in the kitchen in general.

It was very known in the crew that when Deckard cooked, everyone had to take a sneak peek at the man when he did so. He was like a wizard, creating amazing concoctions in the kitchen.

It was no wonder everyone usually stayed huddled near the kitchen door watching him work. He was so cute doing it.

Checking his laptop, Tej made sure he was recording so he could make a compilation later. He was sure it would either make great blackmail or Christmas present if he ever got on Luke's bad side.

"Do you think he'll let us lick the bowl?" Jack asked hopefully.

"Only if you ask before uncle Owen." Roman chuckled.

#deckard shaw #toretto crew #tej parker #hobbs and shaw #fast & furious #omni writes #request friday

[nobodydeviates]

Nancy had been doing research as she always does, pouring herself into articles, pictures, and videos trying to find answers to a question no one seemed to know the answer. Where have all the past Honey Queen's gone? Bigger and better places! But where? Where was that and why hadn't anyone heard from them? Had they really just turned to a nicer life and forgotten about their roots in Hatchetfield? Surely someone would have heard from one of them over the years after winning... no one just left because they won some money and a pageant title. Especially something as small time as the Honey Queen Pageant. And if they did? Usually they posted something about it after. This was the twenty-first century and gloating was everyone's favorite thing to do.

She had attempted to interview the judges from the past several years, but everyone just shut her out-- Roman Murray had invited her in with a grin, but after some creepy comments she made herself scarce. She went to past contests after that, but mostly they all wanted to talk about themselves rather than the pageant itself. She was hitting dead end after dead end and she knew if she didn't think of something she wouldn't have any answers. And mind you she wasn't doing this for anyone but herself, her own curiosity dragging her along with desire to know.

It's how she came to entering the building for signups with the pageant. She'd considered going in as help, but she knew if she wanted answers then she'd have to put herself into the shoes of a contestant. It was... a risk to say the least, but she didn't have hopes of winning. That wasn't her intentions, no. She wanted to know and understand the steps towards winning... then maybe do some post-show stalking of whoever does win. She had a plan in place and it was going to work, it had to. People just didn't leave everything behind after winning one lousy event.

The problem was Steve. He kept telling her over and over he had a bad feeling about all of this, but she kept writing it off as him being overprotective. Nothing was going to happen to her. She didn't stand a chance in winning with who else was up for the spot. Zoey Chambers. Linda Monroe. Not that the latter seemed the type to be crowned the Sweetest Woman in Hathcetfield, but... she had a higher chance than Nancy did. Again, Nancy wasn't going to win. She didn't want to either... she was just here to observe, embarrassingly participate, and get answers.

Rehersals had let out five minutes ago, Nancy pushing out of the theater's front doors with a few women following behind. They were locked in whispering conversation about what they'd all seen tonight, Zoey's unbelievable performance. Nancy could appreciate it, but she didn't care much for it. She had bigger things to think about than whether or not Zoey sounded too pitchy or not-- she didn't, but women were savage creatures. Instead she was glancing around the parking lot, scanning the cars until she was spotting @53min5sec's car. She shouldered her bag higher and moved towards it, glancing over her shoulder at those still lingering in conversation. Maybe it was odd for her to not stay and be part of it, but she wasn't interested in talking to the new contestants just yet. She had to know them as "competition" before anything else.

She reaches Steve's car and quickly slips in through the passenger door. Her hands moving to settle her bag on the floorboard so she could lean back into the seat, palms smoothing over the bottom of her dress. She exhales a breath and tilts her head back into the seat, turning it when settled to look over at her boyfriend, "Are you going to ask how it went or continue to tell me to drop out?"

#53min5sec #♕ ⭒ starter #♕ ⭒ verse 003 ➤ ʰᵒⁿᵉʸ ᵠᵘᵉᵉⁿ ᵖᵃᵍᵉᵃⁿᵗ

[mx-lamour]

Food and Death: An Outing With the In-Laws

If you're ever at a place called Tavern Grill, I recommend their brunch. The roast beef is a juicy medium rare, the bacon is crisp, the strawberries ripe, and the potatoes are loaded with butter. There are blueberries in these pancakes*, chopped vegetables in scrambled eggs, and the caramel rolls are brought out by request so they don't dry out on the table. I love to be in a place called "Tavern", and their recipes do not disappoint. I've eaten several things here, all delicious.

*Roman's Cafe has the best pancakes, though, bar none. Best place for made-to-order breakfast, but Tavern's brunch is a solid buffet option.

My husband and I met his parents (my in-laws) there. Of all things, of course, they were in town for a funeral. Death must have been on their minds, then, especially for my father-in-law, because he regailed us with a few casual tales of real-life hauntings while we were gathered around these products of succulent cattle and trenched earth.

For context, he lives in a rural woodland area. The place is literally a village by population count. The village has two bars and a gas station—and the school, which trucks in children from surrounding farmland and doubles the town's population while class is in session.

My father-in-law works or volunteers at a local history museum in an adjacent village, which houses relics and stories from the pasts of many of the little towns in the area, including his own. There is a little cafe in the museum—once an old school building, itself—called the Mermaid.

Because the population is so small, there are people he sees regularly. One of them, a thin old guy who seemed to be distracted, would come in everyday to order takeout from the Mermaid. At least once, he had stumbled in and asked the waitress why he was there. The waitress set him up with his usual fare in a bag, so we wouldn't need to awkwardly juggle the containers, and sent him back home to his wife.

One day, the thin old man did not visit the Mermaid. He didn't order food, and he didn't carry it home to his wife. His car was found on the side of the road, next to a snowmobile path leading into the woods.

In the meantime, his wife, whose weathered mind was going, simply waited for her husband to return. She waited for five days. And then she died. She hadn't eaten in that time, and starved to death.

They held a funeral for the woman. They're still searching for the thin old man's body, hoping to bury him alongside his emaciated wife.

In contrast, my father-in-law had also encountered a man who had come into the history museum (he did so regularly) and, one day, could not leave. The man made the winding circuit of its exhibits multiple times, until my father-in-law asked him what was going on.

"I can't find my car," the man had said.

He was trapped in the museum, cycling through its corridors like an echo on repeat, and did not have the wherewithal to recognize the front door. There had been no escape.

This was when I started buzzing. We had finished our fabulous meal and lingered in our booth while, luckily, the morning rush was coming to a close. There was no escape for me, either, so I scrambled through my husband's go-bag and found myself a pen with which to write. A pad of thin brown paper tickets with build-your-own omelette or bloody mary orders was handy on the table, and their backs were blank.

It would have been rude to pull out my phone and type furiously on its screen, despite the act of record-writing being the same task either way. I had forgotten about my husband's fountain pen phase. That rich ink and brown paper in the Tavern setting propelled me back into Ezra, and my Craft way better than any keyboard could have in that moment.

My mother-in-law talked about our neices. She and my sisters-in-law had bought a house even farther north, in a slightly bigger town, where my brother-and-law, his wife, and their four children had migrated to before them.

But my father-in-law likes his house, in his tiny village, where he has lived for many years. He knows people there, and helps them out. The man's a fixer—and, as I said, he is involved with the local history museum. He doesn't care to leave all that behind. So he retains the house, and lives there mostly by himself these days.

They talked about the class sizes in the school that year, from which my second neice will finally be graduating. She hasn't told us of her plans beyond that, keeping them close to the vest, and I don't blame her. I hope that wherever she goes is spectacular.

My father-in-law used to be the school's janitor, when my husband and all his older siblings had once been students, too. He's worried that the school, with its dwindling population, will perish. If there aren't enough children there to keep the school running, it might close. No influx of parents would come into town to bolster local business. He's worried that, if the school dies, the village dies with it.

The general store Mercantile that my husband grew up in, trading his quarters for candy bars, has already been turned into a museum, too.

The rural woodlands are a ghost town of museums and memory. A fly trap for the waking dead.

#rural gothic #midwest #food and culture #tavern #creative writing #creative process #i was not expecting this #ghost stories #the waking dead #old age #this seems relevant #lamour dms cos #lamour stories

[lindsaystravelblogs3]

Days 76-77 – Tuesday-Wednesday, 8-9 August

Tuesday

The ship spent the day at anchor in Corfu, but we didn’t go ashore.  We had not booked a tour and didn’t feel like just wandering the streets aimlessly, so stayed aboard and worked on our photos and blogs.  They had a few activities on board, including a special White Night Dinner (when everyone is supposed to tog up in their finest white gear – we don’t have anything even slightly resembling that), followed by yet another Casino Night, but apart from sampling a couple of pastries and taking a cocktail or two from the bar back to our cabin, we kept ourselves to ourselves all day and thoroughly enjoyed it.  Some people, especially the women, dress up for the White Nights in pretty extreme gowns, exposing acres of bare skin, but it is just oneupwomanship and definitely not a scene that resonates with us at all.

Wednesday

We sailed along the Albanian coast early in the morning and proceeded to Montenegro.  We didn’t land in either country, but I did see a few birds from the ship – just a few Yellow-legged Gulls in both countries, so I have two additional Country lists, each with a single species recorded.

There is quite a large inland body of water in Montenegro called the Bay of Kotor and we spent a few hours cruising around it and its Fiords.  The town of Kotor was obviously the focus of the Bay and it is quite a beautiful small town spread along a stretch of the coastline.  It was really quite stunning and we watched as pretty villages and high rugged mountains sailed past us.  It was a very gentle, laid-back morning but quite delightful as we sailed up some narrow passages and around open bays before making for the entrance and out into the open sea again.

Then it was on to Dubrovnik where we had a tour booked that gave us quite a good view of the city.

In 1999, Heather had a Neuroscience Conference in Jerusalem, and I tagged along as her ‘Accompanying Person’.  We had a few days in Rome and Florence and had planned to visit Dubrovnik on the way to Jerusalem, but there was a war on at the time that did a lot of damage to the city so we had to change our plans.  In view of that, it was particularly satisfying to visit it, if only for a day, on this trip.

We walked around the UN Heritage-listed township and our guide pointed out several places where the walls are still pock-marked with bullet and shrapnel wounds from the 1990s war – how could they?  It is such a pretty and peaceful place now that it is hard to imagine the intensive shelling that destroyed such a lot of the city so few years ago.  It has all been rebuilt as it was before the war, but it is pitiful to think how such a pleasant peaceful city could have endured the terror and destruction just a few years ago.

We did the usual tour of a few churches (all Roman Catholic now, after several weeks of almost exclusively Greek Orthodox churches), the central Square, an archaeological museum or two, water storages and fountains, and sat in a bar for half an hour enjoying a cold drink before climbing quite a lot of steps up to the funicular.  (I will continue to post pics of churches and city ramparts as and when I feel them noteworthy, but we are quite over them ourselves, and most aspects of our tours give rise to ‘not another one’ feelings that anyone reading this probably shares.)

An interesting feature of one of the monasteries we visited is that it remains the longest continuously operating pharmacy in Europe, dating from 1317.  Imagine how Chemist Warehouse would fit with that – almost seven hundred years to match that record!

(And if there are more than the usual number of typos in this, put it down to gross incompetence on my part – compounded by a few problems with my PC keyboard – particularly the ‘n’ key that is not (ot) operating as it should)

There were approximately ten million tourists lined up, tickets in hand, to ride the two thirty-passenger funicular cars to the top of the mountain.  Fortunately for us, but sadly for all the poor plebs left waiting for ages, tour groups got priority and we were the fourth tour group in the queue.  It took about half an hour to board one of the cars but we were then up there within a couple of minutes – but perhaps some of the people in the queue are still waiting for the tour group priorities to clear so they can get a ride.  It seemed pretty unfair to me even though we were given a priority.

My acrophobia made the trip up and back in the cablecar a little uncomfortable, but I held on tight and avoided looking out too much - and with thirty other people surrounding me, I felt pretty safe. In fact, on the way up, I found myself assuring another sufferer that the funicular was perfectly safe and there was nothing to concern us. If only she knew.....

The view from the top was fantastic – and made more so because our tour was regaled with bubbly (and more bubbly) and canapes (pretty uninspired to my palate) while we took our photos and had various landmarks pointed out to us.  We could see our ship in one of the three (maybe four) harbours and it was a great vantage point to see the stereotypical Dubrovnik terracotta-tiled roofs that feature in every promo for the city.  Looking to the south, we could see some buildings in Bosnia-Hertzogovina just across the valley – and behind them were the mountains of Montenegro.  What an amazing sight – three countries over a couple of glasses of bubbles! There was a little time to kill up on the mountain because our tour was scheduled to follow four others lined up for the funicular, but in due course, we alighted the car and strolled down to the main city and port and onto our tender to go back to the ship.

After dinner, there was a great short concert on the stern deck. It was a musical performance by a men's group, playing mostly traditional instruments, with a couple of singers to add to their brilliance. It was quite magical sitting and listening to them, with the breeze blowing and the slap of the waves on the hull - quite delightful.

It may not seem a big deal to many, but to actually visit the magic of Dubrovnik after the disappointment of 24 years ago (and maybe twenty or thirty years of ambition prior to that) gave me a big buzz. It was a good day, if pretty tiring with lots of steps and walking.

[servin-up-surveys]

survey #120

When was the last time you spent over $100 in one transaction? What did you buy? Uh... I don't remember? I'll do that soon though for my first tattoo appointment.

Do you sleep with a stuffed animal? Would you judge a grown adult for doing so? No to both.

Would you rather read an erotic novel or watch an erotic film? I mean, honestly neither, but if I had to pick one it'd be a novel.

Do you still have both of your parents? Thankfully, yes.

Do you play video games? Yeah, but not nearly as much as I did as a kid and teenager.

Does your significant other boss you around a lot? Hell fucking no, he knows I wouldn't allow that and I also know he doesn't want to do that to me.

Have you ever been put to sleep for surgery? Twice, yeah. I recently learned that I WON'T be able to be put to sleep for my wisdom teeth extraction because it is just impossibly expensive for us, and one especially HAS to come out because it has a very deep cavity that is going to kill the tooth and cause me hell if it stays in.

[TW: SUICIDE] Have you ever attempted suicide? Yes.

Have you ever skipped class before? No, not just one specific class. I'd rarely skip school by staying home, almost only ever because of mental health or more rarely being absolutely insanely tired, but Mom normally wouldn't allow that. Oh, I think I also usually did get to stay home on my bday.

Who, in your life, makes you feel discouraged? Myself, more than absolutely anyone else. I don't let (other) people stay in my life anymore that do that to me.

Have you ever lost anyone close to cancer? Well, my grandmothers died of different cancers, but neither I was very close to at all (I actually hated Mom's mom) for multiple reasons. Did Dad's dad die of cancer too? I can't remember, but I barely knew him either.

Have you ever been in a car accident? Yeah, when I was way younger. We actually got real close to big trouble on the road Friday; we were the first in line at a stop light and across from us, an 18-wheeler carrying some metal stuff turned in front of us, but way too sharply, and he tipped entirely onto two wheels, very barely managing to get back upright. Both Mom and I nearly had a fucking heart attack and both of our anxieties were very elevated for a while, like she was about to shift the car into reverse to back the hell up.

What was the last film you watched, that made you feel emotional? I have no idea. I basically never watch movies.

Does anyone you know ever recommend books to you? No.

What traits/behaviors do your pets have, that you find cute? Strongest is Cookie's tendency to get EXTREMELY excited when she merely suspects Mom or both of us are leaving. She is crazy for car rides, and she'll immediately start running between us, pushing our legs, doing this weird hyperventilation thing chihuahuas do when they get so excited their tiny bodies basically can't handle it haha, and will jump right into her carrier and stare at Mom, waiting to be picked up. Cookie also tends to prefer toys that are bigger than her, and watching her try to beat up like her big sloth or cow is the cutest shit. As for Roman, when we get home, he'll saunter into the living room and just plop down onto the floor in this uniquely content way, like he's just happy we're home and wants to chill with us. He stretches out and will frequently start rolling around/playing on the floor basically, lol. Also since being a kitten, he loves to sleep like as close to my face as he can get, normally. Lastly, Venus. This isn't exactly super unique to a snake, but it's still cute: when I handle her, oftentimes she loves to try to go into my shirt to be against my skin and stay warmer (I'm very convinced this literally saved her life once in a power outage we had), and back when I used to use my laptop in bed, she was great about snuggling up against me and just chilling there for basically ever, lol. She's a sweet girl.

Is there anyone who "likes" a lot of your posts online, but you don’t talk? Yeah, ig.

What was the last song that you recall singing along to? Pretty sure it was "Love Stuck" by Mother Mother the other day.

Have you ever been in your kitchen naked? No.

This time last year, what was your relationship status? I was still with Girt.

Did you reject or accept your last friend request? Reject, I think. Pretty sure it was some random guy I'd never met and had no mutuals with, gotta love those.

Are you sure of your sexuality? I AM sure I'm at least queer, and while I'm quite certain I am specifically pansexual, I don't think I'd ever truly know until I had a legit sexual experience with a feminine person.

What was the last compliment that you got? The person who worked with me for PT today told me I did great.

Do you know anyone with a really weird name? In almost all cases, I don't like to think of names as "weird," because generally they are given with great love and consideration and are important to those who named them, so I think it's pretty mean to consider someone's name weird. Now yes, there are exceptions, there are rare cases where names are given carelessly or even as a "joke," but generally, you get my mindset.

Has a boy/girl ever cheated on their boyfriend/girlfriend for you? Basically.

What’s the worst hangover you’ve ever had? I've never had one, actually.

Who in your family are you closest to? My mom.

Ever sat in someone’s lap because there were no more seats in a vehicle? I remember doing this with Jason once.

What do you tend to drink a lot of? Flavored carbonated water.

If you were going out for a meal, what restaurants would you typically AVOID going to? Seafood and foreign, generally. There are times I'm fine with some foreign food, but on your average day, if you ask where I wanna go, I'm gonna pick American cuisine.

Name a song you enjoy that’s in a language other than English. Basically Rammstein's entire discography lmao but for this question I'm gonna go with "Zeit," I think the vocals are fucking fantastic and sincerely beautiful in it. I feel like German has a rep for being an ugly-sounding language, which I don't agree with in general, but I cannot imagine someone calling the vocals "ugly" in that one.

Did you ever have head lice as a child? Quite positive no.

Do you like/listen to Queen? Do you have a favourite song by them? I adore Queen; Freddie Mercury is my favorite vocalist to ever live. This is probably like, EVERYONE'S answer, but I adore "Bohemian Rhapsody," but also "Killer Queen" and "Headlong" are high up on the list.

Do you have any idea when you’ll next attend a wedding? Whose will it be? Nope, but if I had to guess I really do think it's probably gonna be my own lmao. Girt visited his grandmother two days back and she's officially joined the party of asking when we're getting married haha.

What was the best job you’ve ever had? I've never had a job I even liked.

Do you have a troublesome medical condition? Above all, severe depression and anxiety. My AvPD is also very noteworthy with how it affects my life, and I still deal with the effects of relationship trauma. OH, I was so focused on my mental stuff that I almost forgot uh hey, my leg health also MAJORLY affects my life and what I can do, etc. Lastly, my weight plays a massive part in my poor self-image and super severely contributes to my depression.

Magenta, aqua, or coral? Coral; I consider that my second-favorite color. I love all of these, though.

Do you like the color orchid? Yes! I love basically every conceivable shade of pink, haha.

Would you rather be a wedding photographer or a nature photographer? It's my literal dream to be a nature photographer. Once upon a time I was aiming for wedding photographer, but only for the pay; I'm just not social enough for that shit.

Have you ever had an ulcer? None other than those you sometimes get in your mouth from like, biting your cheek.

Do you enjoy writing essays? I actually do, quite a lot.

What is your favorite name that starts with a "Z?" Probably Zane.

Do you believe that God’s plans for you are better than you could ask, think, or imagine? "God's" plan involves giving kids cancer and allowing pre-teen girls to be knocked up by rapists, fuck his "plans."

Would you want your first child to be a girl or a boy? If I decide I want children, I want a girl so much more than a boy that I'd almost be tempted to do IVF so long as my husband was still the biological dad, I've no idea how the rules of that process work. Super unlikely I'd actually do it though because I don't care quite enough to invest money in that.

Do you think you have what it takes to be a good salesperson? I've been in this position and I can ASSURE you I am the worst salesperson imaginable lmao.

Which name do you like better: Jessica or Jennifer? Jessica.

To you, what is especially distracting? People talking when I'm trying to count something. I physically cannot do it. Numbers just DO NOT store in my damn brain.

Have you ever contemplated cheating on anyone? Nope.

Who do you go to when you need comfort? Mostly Girt or Mom. Sometimes Tez and Mazzy.

Has anyone you know started a new job recently? Do they seem to enjoy it? Uh I feel like somebody has, but idr who.

Have you seen a butterfly at any time recently? No.

Have you drunk any fruit-flavored beverages today? Yes; the water I drink is usually strawberry-flavored.

What carbonated beverages do you have in your fridge at the moment? None, not even my aforementioned waters right now.

Has anyone you know got into a new relationship lately? Um maybe, idk.

Do you have any sisters? How is your relationship with them? Ashley, Nicole, Katie, and Misty. Katie and Misty don't live here and I barely ever see them, but I am A LOT like Katie (more than any of my other siblings) so connect to her a lot, though we don't talk enough. I like Misty enough, but she can also be incredibly fucking stupid and self-important as hell. I get along fine with Ashley and Nicole too, but we also don't talk a lot and I've never in my mature life known how to properly interact/connect with them. Nicole and I were very close as kids, but not anymore.

What was your favourite class in high school? Art.

Do you have any plans to buy any furniture in the near future? No.

Do you know anyone who has a matching tattoo with someone? (including yourself)? I'm sure I know more than I think I do. I know Ashley and her husband Nick got each other's first initial tattooed on their ring fingers on their honeymoon. Colleen and I each got "ohana" tattoos dedicated to each other (which I now want to rip directly off my fucking skin, especially when you consider I don't even believe in unnecessary loyalty to family just because they're family), but they were styled entirely differently and in different spots.

What type of milk do you like to drink? Either 1%, 2%, or whole.

Do you have a first aid kit at home? Yeah.

Are your parents dog or cat people? Is that different or the same as you? I know Mom's a dog person, and I think Dad is too. Since leaving us though he's never owned another, just cats because of Kim, and he's loved both of them very much.

Are there sounds that bother you on a visceral level? Vomiting.

Would you ever get a matching tattoo with someone? I will never, ever, get another tattoo that will lose meaning if that person leaves my life. It's a terrible fucking decision. I'm perfectly fine with getting one with somebody that will still be a perfectly relevant, important tattoo to me if our relationship spoils, though.

What would be worse for you, unplanned pregnancy or cancer? Gah, I guess cancer, but both would fucking suck. I'm pretty sure the abortion I would inevitably get would traumatize me, but cancer could straight-up kill me.

Have you ever popped another person’s zit? oh my fucking god no

Have you ever told a friend to dump their SO? Did they? Yes, and eventually, yes. She was my best friend and her boyfriend (who I knew via school) was an ABSOLUTE piece of shit. Summer's always had a thing for people who aren't good for her... Even now, her partner she's been with for many, many years is complete trash, but it really does look like they're staying together no matter what.

What do you think is the coolest piercing on someone else? Generally lip kinds.

#survey #surveys #random questions #personal questions

[rebelwrites]

Into The Flames

Dominic Toretto x Reader

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This Months Writing

I have no idea where this came from, the words @withmyteeth sent for the 100 Drabble just made the words flow.

You watched as the blast took full effect, flames engulfing the car. If it wasn’t for Dom holding you back, you would have ran straight into the fire, trying to salvage whatever you could of your grandpa’s car.

It was too late, the last thing you had of his was now gone. Burnt to a crisp, whilst your ex stood near the blaze, a smirk on his face, your ex-best friend by his side.

“You fucking rat!” You screamed as hot tears ran down your face. “You said you wouldn’t tell him where I moved. I will fucking kill you.”

“Darling, you need to calm down,” Dom whispered, with his cheek pressed against your head.

“How the fuck can I,” You sobbed struggling to get your words out, “How can I calm down, that was the only thing I had left of him,” You screamed, your chest rising violently as your lungs burnt, screaming for air, “It’s fucking gone.”

“I know sweetheart, I know.” Dom sighed, trying not to let the tears burning his eyes fall, “But you know if I let you go, you will end up beating the shit out of them.”

“Damn right I will,” You cried.

“I can’t let that happen,” He whispered, “You are on your last chance with the local PD and plus you are on probation.”

“I can’t let them get away with it,” You screamed, pounding your fists against Dom’s chest. “I just can’t.”

“And I won’t let them get away with it,” Dom whispered, kissing your forehead, before he nodded at Roman, who quickly stepped in, pulling you from Dom’s arms and into his.

You tried to put up a fight, but he was stronger than you, so you quickly gave up, especially when you saw Dom and Letty storming over to the people you once held close to your heart. As much as it pained you to see the flickers of the flames you couldn’t take your eyes off your boyfriend and someone you saw as your sister.

Three punches, that's all it took for your ex to be floored, allowing Dom to climb on top of him, keeping the punches colliding with his face. You watched the shade of crimson coat his face along with Dom’s knuckles. Glazing over to Letty as was in the same position as Dom, your so called best friend screaming for her to stop.

It wasn’t until the sirens were heard in the distance that either of them stopped. You couldn’t hear what Dom said to your ex but you knew it wasn’t going to be pretty, and more than likely threatened to kill him.

Somehow you found the strength to escape Roman’s grip, running straight into the flames you didn’t care anymore. The one thing that meant the world to you was gone, there was no saving the car, every panel of the car was scorched, the interior had completely disintegrated, the photo you kept on the dashboard had burnt to a crisp.

Talking a few more steps closer, you were ready to climb into the car and let the flames take you as well, you had fully given up. If it wasn’t for Dom wrapping his arms around your waist, pulling you back from the blaze you would have gone with the car.

“Don’t be stupid,” Dom shouted, panic laced in his voice.

“I have nothing,” You wailed, “I have noone, I am nothing.”

“Is that what you really think?” Dom screamed, he knew raising his voice wasn’t the way around this but you needed the tough love right now. “Do you think that no one would care if you went with the car? Because let me tell you this, we fucking would,” He yelled but lowering his voice “I would.”

“So don’t even think about calling this the end,” He said, holding you as tight as he physically could, “I can’t survive without my girl, I lost you for three years and that was too long in my books, so I am not losing you forever.”

The two of you stood a few feet away from the flames, watching as the fire department put the flames out, neither of you moving as you watched the flames die down letting you see the full extent of the damage.

“We can fix it babygirl,” Dom whispered, kissing the top of your head, “The damage isn’t as bad as I thought it would be.”

“It won’t be the same,” You sighed, your eyes stung from crying, your voice horse from the screaming, “I will never be the same.”

@chibsytelford @phoenixhalliwell @galaxysanduniversesinmymind @withmyteeth @jessprins13 @rightwhereiwantyou @jasonbabymama @pumpkin-spice-hate @garbinge @zozebo @pancakeisreading @phoenixhalliwell @band--psycho

#Dominic Toretto #Dominic Toretto x reader #dominic toretto imagine #Dominic Toretto oneshot #fast and furious #fast and furious x reader #fast and furious imagine