#jeb recalls

[js-sunflowers]

reminders of home, before the fall

[distressedwalnut]

I find it really funny that Jeb is jealous of Sanford in Miitopia while in Tomodachi Life Sanford was Jeb's only friend if I recall right, or at least from the one post

YOU'RE SO RIGHT!! In my old game Jeb's ONLY friend was Sanford. Even in my new game he's still good friends with Sanford (tho his bff is Hank which is even funnier). Then in Miitopia he's seething at Sanford and Emi's level 3 friendship

[satureja13]

Last night shift before the first play test of the Therapy Game.

They are so excited ^^' I'm glad Saiwa is his old self again. It's so hard for me to see him suffer. They are so cute! ^^'

Jack noticed that Ji Ho is sad and exhausted: "Let's take a break, hm?"

And as soon as he said it, Ji Ho ran out. It still hurts that Vlad rejected him. Saiwa: "What happened?"

And so Jack explained that the idea was to get physical with Vlad so Ji Ho can gain access to his buried feelings. And that Vlad rejected him... Saiwa: "Vlad!" Vlad: "But - how was I supposed to know? I didn't attend your therapy session and no one told me. He tried to kiss me out of the blue and you know I can't resist him and then we'd go to far and ..."

"I just can't treat Ji Ho like this. He only should do such things with someone he loves. Not to cast bond magic and not to find his feelings. There is no need to do this anyway. Because there is another way - and we are just working on it -> this game."

Saiwa sighed: "Uhm right... I should probably go and look after him then... By the way: Is it ok for you to stay here for so long? How are Jeb and Kiyoshi doing? If you need to check on them, just leave." Vlad: "Uhm - no, it's actually fine. I can stay and finish the game with you." Saiwa sensed there is something foul: "What?" Vlad: "Ehm... actually they now live together at Jeb's apartment and care for each other..." Oh oh. (Jeb and Kiyoshi knew each other long before we met them. And Saiwa and Jack had always been jealous. Jeb had even joined Kiyoshi in the tree to take a part of the burden off of him while no one else of them knew where he was...) Jack regained his composure before Saiwa: "It's all my fault! I go and run!" Saiwa: "How is this your ... ohhh"

(That's Saiwa and Jack's way to deal with things ^^' Jack doesn't care to be Saiwa's scapegoat to hunt down. He knows it's the only way for Saiwa to let his frustration out and he's glad to help haha And Jack too needs a good run right now after this revelation...) Saiwa: "Ok. You look after Ji Ho then, Vlad."

Vlad: "Ehm, ok..."

And then they ran.

Vlad instead went to look after Ji Ho... How embarrassing - again. Will it never end? Vlad doesn't even know if it's a good idea to dig out Ji Ho's feelings. It kept him sane for all these years burying them deep deep down. Do the others even consider that it's not possible to just dig out the feelings of love? Ji Ho would have to open Pandora's Box and all his surpressed feelings would hit him - all at once.

Vlad: "Forgive me."

Did you notice that it rained again? And did you know that mermaids can change the weather? And that it only rained when Ji Ho was sad? And when the sun came out the other day, it was when Ji Ho was happy that Vlad was there and Vlad was happy to see Ji Ho happy?

'If I kiss you like this And if you whisper like that It was lost long ago, but it's all coming back to me If you want me like this And if you need me like that It was dead long ago, but it's all coming back to me It's so hard to resist, and it's all coming back to me I can barely recall, but it's all coming back to me now But it's all coming back'

Pandora's Box - It's all coming Back to me now (You might know this song from Celine Dion, but this is the original, written by Jim Steinman (who also wrote songs for Meatloaf)

From the Beginning  ~  Underwater Love ~  Latest 🕹️ 'Therapy Game' from the beginning ▶️ here 📚 Previous Chapters: Chapters: 1-6 ~ 7-12 ~ 13-16 ~ 17-22 ~ 23-28

Outtakes

Vlad being overly theatrical ^^'

And maybe they kissed because Vlad is unable to resist Ji Ho :3

[prolix-yuy]

Chapter 6: You Gave Me the Strength to Keep Going

Pairing: Jack “Whiskey” Daniels x F!Reader “Sugar”

Summary: It's only perfect.

Word Count: 3.7k

Warnings: T, more yearning for Jack and his ranch, a kiss!, will be E in later chapters so full series is 18+ MINORS DNI.

Notes: It's time to see what Jack's ranch is all about, and to find out exactly what he's keeping in that barn. Hint: my horsey girls will be very excited about it! There's been a dearth of horse content in this sequel but we're about to change that.

Cross-posted on AO3

Decoherence Masterlist   ||   Whiskey & Westworld Masterlist

The conversation on the drive back to Jack’s ranch is peppered with questions about Lacey’s wedding, your life in the “real world” as you both have taken to calling it, and observations of the landscape as the town thins out. Jack listens to you describe your job, tedious as it may be, and the hobbies that fill your free time. They pale in comparison to the cozy warmth of this town and Jack’s life commingled with it. The cool grays and blues of your apartment, the shimmering glass and steel of skyscrapers, the distinct coldness of how easy it is to live your life without ever interacting with another human being. None of it entices you home. 

“It must all sound boring after what you’ve been through,” you muse, Jack chuckling softly. 

“I don’t know, Sugar, I think you had some trials of your own,” he says as he parks the truck. You look at him curiously, making a smile quirk on his lips. He shrugs, shifting in his seat to face you better. 

“When we were…there…you told Mary and Jeb about a husband.” 

Mouth drying out, you recall the story with the thrum of anticipation that moment brought. Jack’s body so close, a lie because the truth was too hard to weave. The twin emotions of relief and disgust at how easy it was to imagine Eric removed from your life. 

“Now, I realized it may not have been true, but on the off chance it was I took my time making sure.”

“Sure of what?”

Jack chews his mustache, hand smoothing around the steering wheel.

“That you weren’t happily married. That I wouldn’t ruin your life by barging in if you found someone in the time it took me to find you.” 

Your cheeks heat up, embarrassment and curiosity warring.

“How?”

Now Jack’s cheeks are pinking, eyes darting to the barn outside and back to you.

“The private investigator I hired. I asked if you had a marriage certificate, and he didn’t find one. Then, I went to see for myself. Had a list of places you might be, and a few times I found you.” The hazy mist of half-formed memories drifts in - broad shoulders passing you by, a cowboy hat in the corner of your eye. You must look shocked because his eyes plead with you. “I’m sorry Sugar, I know how bad it sounds, I just…I told myself I’d walk away if I had proof.” He nods down at your hands worrying in your lap. “That tricked me for a while.” 

You look down, the muted teal of the ring on your left hand pouring realization over your head.

“It’s not a…” you stammer, but Jack interrupts with a placating wave.

“I heard. You and Lacey were talking about it. She got it for you?” 

It dawns on you that most of what you’d discussed in the past two days was Jack’s year of awakening. He knew nothing of yours. Spinning the ring on your finger, you find words that hurt less every time you speak them.

“I was engaged when I met you. Really unhappily, but I couldn’t admit it. You…you changed something for me. I went back and left him. Lacey helped me through it, and it was this ring she got me on her own Westworld adventure that made giving his back more bearable.” 

Jack’s eyes harden and soften in record time, hand flexing in his lap. You wish he would reach for yours. 

“I’m sorry you went through that, darlin’,” he says, shifting in his seat and putting one hand on the door handle.

“I’ve been a lot happier since then,” you say, a wider smile blooming on Jack’s face.

“Good,” he says, warm and thick like honey. Yanking on the handle, you find a little bravery that’s less foreign in your mouth.

“There hasn’t been anyone since,” you add. Since you sits on your tongue, but you swallow it back. His quick glance, edged with a heat that sends a frisson down your back, responds as loud as you need it.

Good.

Traipsing out, Jack saunters around the truck. A lightning bolt of white and brown streaks out from between the buildings, Russell bouncing in a tight orbit around Jack’s feet.

“Yeah, yeah, missed us Russ?” he says, the casual roll of us off his lips making your heart pound. He scratches Russell between his floppy ears as his tongue lolls out wildly. Straightening up, Jack shifts nervously with his hands on his hips.

“I thought before you head back, you might want to see the rest of the place?” he offers, your heart clenching at the way his jaw ticks side to side as he waits for your answer. It’s barely past noon, sun high and hot in the sky, the deep earthen scent of dust and clay in your nose. You wait for an objection to surface, some hard and fast desire to run from how messy and strange this all has been. 

For once, your mind is silent. 

“Yeah, show me around cowboy,” you say, and the bashful smile that one agreement elicits makes you want to kiss him.

Holy shit, you’ve never wanted to kiss someone so badly. 

But he’s turning and ushering you towards the barn, a steady stream of tour guide-worthy tidbits matching his stride.

“...barn wasn’t in good shape, so I fixed it up with a few other guys in town. I mostly keep the machines I work on in here, some hay and feed, you know.” Pulling open one of the large doors Jack leads you in, your eyes adjusting to the dimmer light. What looks like a delivery drone rests on the floor, a toolbox and tablet on a table nearby.

“That’s a new generation seeding and fertilizing tool, though they don’t make ‘em to last. Blades always get damaged or the motor burns out. Parts are cheap, but not many people know how to fix complex machines.” Your body continues to warm at this blatant display of knowledge and competence, being careful not to step too close to the drone. Catching Jack’s eye, you quirk an eyebrow at complex machines and he shrugs. “Lots of older folks just trying to make a living. I help them, they help me. It’s…familiar.”

Looking up, you startle as a handful of glossy glowing orbs point at you from the hayloft. Jack follows your line of sight and tsks.

“How are there even more of you now?” he exclaims, and from above a chorus of mewls tickle a laugh out of your throat. “I swear they’re making my loft a den of ill repute, but damn if they aren’t cute.” 

“Soft spot for animals?” you tease as blurry shapes move away from the edge. Jack shrugs but it’s even shyer now, Russell settling at his heel and staring adoringly at his master.

“They’re easier than people sometimes,” he says, colored with subtle melancholy. You kneel and hold a hand out for Russell, which he sniffs before allowing you to scritch his princely head. 

“I always wanted a bunch of animals when I was a kid. My parents never let me have any, didn’t want to end up taking care of them.” Russell’s tail wags furiously as he lets you roughhouse him a little, wiggling his little lean body under your hands. When you look up at Jack there’s a thick layer of fondness on his face that he hurriedly tries to wipe off.

“Well then you’ll love the rest of the zoo I’ve got here,” he says, clearing his throat as inconspicuous as he can. You bounce to your feet, excitement thrumming in your veins.

“I can’t wait,” you say, giddiness washing away the lingering anxiety in your shoulders. Jack motions you out of the barn with a flourish.

Once back outside he leads you between the house and the barn to a domestic vista that swells around you. There’s a delicate wire fence corralling about fifteen chickens, a perfect row of henhouses lined up in the sunshine. A caramel colored is strutting outside the fence, head snapping quickly to you and Jack. He tips his hat and rumbles a “Ma’am” at her, little head cocking with a cluck before returning to her strut.

“She’s the boss,” he says, brightening at your giggles as the hen patrols…well, like a mother hen. 

It’s easy to see Jack is in his element here, amongst the animals and a small town that doesn’t ask for much beyond what he can give. His eyes are bright and mirthful, hands moving quickly, and he’s lighter than you’ve ever seen him. He’s clearly home. 

“Now, for the piéce de résistance,” he jokes, opening the wooden gate around the second barn and ushering you in. 

Sunlight filters in through an opening in the roof, the rays speckled with hazy dust motes. Your nose fills with the scent of sweet hay and horse musk, and you can’t stop a smile from beaming on your face. The short walkway is lined with stables, many without doors and stacked with hay or saddle racks. A few saddle cloths drape over the partitions, sable browns and rust reds you observe as you step quietly behind Jack. 

Then, a sound that makes your body spark to life - the plosive snuffle of a horse’s snout.

“I didn’t mean to hide them from you so long, didn’t get a chance to show you before,” Jack chuckles at your open expression as a long black nose pokes over the top of the stable door. “This here’s Jet. He’s my work horse, always carrying my ass around.” He pats the onyx horse on the neck, earning another whuffle as you smooth your palm between his eyes. Jet moves with the calm self-assurance of an experienced creature, sure-footed and even tempered. 

Another, almost indignant snort comes from behind, and you turn to investigate. Just across the walkway is another stable, another occupant, and one that takes your breath away.

An Appaloosa. A long, delicate snout speckled with chestnut brown and buttery white, nostrils flaring as it tosses its silvery mane. Unbidden you walk over to it, barely aware of Jack by your side. It stomps and shifts in the stable, shaking its head again as you come within reach. 

“She’s new,” Jack says quietly, your eyes still locked on the mare as she watches you with one unblinking glossy eye. “Folks selling her said she was too ornery, but she warmed up just fine to me.” Jack reaches out to pat her neck and she settles down, still shifting on her feet. You reach out a hand to stroke between her eyes, just as you did with Jet, but she jerks her head up to smack her nose into your palm. Snickering, you redirect to stroke her soft muzzle. That touch settles her, content to let you coo at her quietly. When you finally look at Jack he’s just shy of beaming, trying to hide it beneath his dark mustache.

“Seems she warmed up to you just as nicely,” he muses, shifting a fraction closer. The heat of his body calls for yours, magnetism and comfort pulling you towards him. A sudden push from the Appaloosa’s snout knocks you off balance, stumbling a step back as you bleat out a laugh. Before you can trip any further Jack’s arm is around your waist, hands closed around your elbows to steady you. His face is just by your temple and if you turned you could be kissing him in a breath’s time. 

“Can we ride?” is what you say instead, two facets of your mind screaming at each other, but Jack’s smile only grows. 

“I thought you’d never ask, Sugar.”

Tacking up is quick and mostly silent except for the natural noises of the horses. Jack pulls out equipment for you, sweat staining the center of his shirt and curling the hair at the nape of his neck. You prepare the Appaloosa, watching for her shifting feet. She’s definitely been ridden before but there’s a bratty energy in the way she tosses and wiggles while you work. Soothing her a few times, you get her squared away before leading her out of the stables. Jack waits for you outside the barn door, Jet’s reins loose in his hands as he sits atop. 

With the afternoon sun starting to lengthen your shadows, Jack is every bit the cowboy you remember. Faded leather riding boots fit snug into the stirrups, threadbare jeans hugging his thick thighs. The sun-bleached gray of his button-up is dark with sweat, but that only intensifies how much you’d like to bury your nose in his chest and inhale him deep. He’s rolled the sleeves, exposing corded forearms dusted with hair. Wide palms and blunt fingers rest on his pommel, and the shade his black hat affords his face can’t hide the simmering pride in his eyes.

“She’s never let me tack her up that quick,” he comments as you walk up beside him. 

“She have a name?” you ask, patting her shoulder to earn an affectionate huff.

“Not yet, nothing’s come to me,” he muses. 

“I’m sure we can find something that fits you,” you placate, putting a foot in the stirrup to lift yourself up. In one forceful push you mount, swinging your leg and settling on the Appaloosa’s back. She shifts under you but stays still as you adjust your position. Satisfied, you flash Jack a scandalous look.

“What, no offer to help me up?” you tease. Jack’s eyes crinkle as a sideways smile twists his lips.

“I would never presume to be so bold with an experienced rider,” he drawls. 

“You could,” you shoot back, your own confidence surprising. “You could be bold, Jack.”

Jack’s smile softens, eyes turning contemplative.

“I guess I could, Sugar.”

You hold your gaze, electricity sparking between you on the precipice of the unknown.

Jack leads you off the main property and into the sprawling plains. He mumbles that he doesn’t own all of it, but no one else does either so he’s chosen to watch over it. The gentle sway of the horses’ gait undulates you back and forth, closer and further apart, as he points out ridges that lead to other homes, fences he’s helped build. When silence creeps in it’s comfortable, the clop of hooves a constant. 

Cresting a hill, a rust-colored valley opens up at your feet. Miles of land uninterrupted, only patches of dry desert grass and spindly trees to dot the landscape. Side by side with Jack something shifts in you, matched by the Appaloosa’s stamping feet. You lean down to stroke her neck, head tossing with a whinny.

“What do you want, girl?” you ask, the barely restrained thrum of her muscles twitching under your hand. She takes a step forward, then stops and shakes her head. You look at Jack over your shoulder, and he jerks his chin at you with a smirk.

“You wanna run?” you ask, loosening the lead on the reins. She swings her head back like she can’t believe you have to ask. “Okay, girl, let’s fucking run.”

A nudge of your heels is all she needs to take off like a shot, your body lifting and tensing as she sprints, then canters, then breaks into a full-on gallop across the dusty plains. You lean forward, outstretching your arms to move with her neck and taking your weight off her back. Thighs burning, wind whipping across your face, you let the elation of hooves slamming into the ground rip a wild laugh from your throat. Your form, your control, the magnificent beast below you and the world whipping by are all that matter. If you wouldn’t lose all balance you’d throw your arms out and try to fly. 

A blur of black comes up beside you, Jack urging Jet to keep pace. You can only glance at him, but what you can see of his handling and posture lets you know he’s giving Jet the lead to chase you. Your eyes water against the wind (or maybe something else) as the Appaloosa begins to flag, slowing as a grassier hill grows before you. With a final push, you ride her momentum to the top, gasping along with her explosive pants. Without the wind your skin is hot and sticky, legs tight from the effort of riding. Shaking your hands out, you dismount as Jack comes to a stop. 

“You sure let her out!” Jack shouts as you spin in a circle, the high of speed and freedom making every nerve sing out.

“Sure fucking did! That was…shit, yes, that was…” you try to articulate, but all you can make come from your lungs is one exuberant, primal scream that echoes through the valley. In that noise is all of the tightly-gripped pain, the fear, the disbelief that you could ever be happy thrown into the air, never to sink into your flesh again. This is joy. You are capable of joy again, and it’s thanks to a man now standing behind you, smiling like you’re a miracle he never thought he’d experience twice.

“Jack…”

His name is soft in your mouth, and when you say it his smile only deepens. Nothing could come between the pull of your bodies now, so you let yours go to him. In two steps your head is tucked under his chin, arms around his waist. He’s surrounding you, warmth and musk pressed into your cheek. Dipping his chin down, he buries his nose in the top of your head and inhales, large hand cupping the back of your neck. 

“I missed you, darlin’,” he says in a whisper, like he’s afraid you’ll spook. Your throat is so tight you can barely croak out, “I missed you too Jack.” His hand cups your cheek as he guides your foreheads together, hat tilting back on his head. Your noses glide against one another, lips barely brushing but the featherlight caress awakens a need in you that begs to be quenched. Jack’s proud nose drags along your cheek as he presses a kiss at the hinge of your jaw, worshipful in his offering. You grip his shirt, bunching the fabric in your fists as he noses up to your temple, another kiss tattooed on your skin. Tilting your chin up, your eyes open to his searching your face, and he must have seen the plea in your eyes because he cradles your head in both hands and presses his lips to yours.

It’s everything and nothing like the first time you kissed Jack Daniels. There’s no tension, no anxiety, no worries coloring how you taste him. Instead there is a clawing need to be swallowed whole, to suffocate on his affections and let him devour you. The first kiss is full, promising, pulling away only enough to slip in a breath. The second is overwhelming, hard and demanding as he swipes over your lower lip and crowds your body. Opening for him, his tongue finds yours and strokes lazily against it, a choked groan pooling heat in your cunt. You press back and suck on his lower lip, the harsh pant of his breath on your cheek spurring you on. His next kiss has teeth, a forceful press into your mouth, and hands wandering to grip your waist. You accept it all greedily, stumbling into him and burying your fingers in his hair. He rips his mouth away with a gasp, chin tilting up to offer his long neck. You accept with wild abandon, licking a stripe before placing a wet kiss at the base.

“Fuck, fuck, Sugar, you sure can drive me to distraction, slow down for a second,” he pleads.

“Can’t, Jack, fuck, I can’t…” you pant, crashing you lips back against his when he tips his chin down. The groan in his chest is half frustration, half elation. Hands slide up your spine in soothing paths, tugging you flush while his lips ghost over yours.

“Not going anywhere, sweetheart,” he rumbles, rocking you on your heels while his hands sweep up and down in a gentle pattern. “Slow down, we got plenty of time. I’m right here.” 

Finally the choking need to crawl inside him dissipates, traded for the marshmallowy softness of his lips on your neck, grazing the swell of your cheek. You’re lost in the limbo of kissing Jack until a sharp nudge knocks you in the center of your back. He chuckles.

“Seems like our company is growing tiresome for these two,” he says while you turn in his arms. The Appaloosa is standing behind you with the horsey equivalent of rolled eyes and “can we go now?” energy. You ruffle her forelock affectionately as Jack’s arms wind around your waist, chest solid against your back.

“She was my sign,” Jack says quietly as she flicks her tail at a troublesome fly. “Was at an auction, not looking for anything in particular, and I saw her. She was pulling at the reins, giving them a run for their money, and I thought you’d like her.”

Your fingers rest lightly on her muzzle, breath hitching in your chest.

“See, I was debating on whether I was going to go about my plan at all. I got myself established, safe, functioning in this new world. I told myself I was going to find you once I was ready. But then I thought, what if she’s happy? What if she doesn’t want anything more than what we shared that night? I would be ruining your life by trying to find a way back in it.” Your hands fall to clasp around his, a skyline stretching with miles and miles of potential before you. 

“But then I saw her, and…well, I guess I don’t have quite the same belief in a higher power as some. But this was too great a coincidence for me to ignore. If the world was giving me a sign, I had to at least try.” 

She turns one eye to you, amber and gold in the afternoon light. 

“Daybreak,” you say, smiling as she nickers quietly. Jack’s hum urges you to add, “You should call her Daybreak.”

The beginning of a new day, and all its possibilities still laid before you. 

“Daybreak it is,” Jack agrees.

PREVIOUS || NEXT

[truthdogg]

In his first campaign, Donald Trump famously confused Jeb Bush with Ted Cruz during a debate.

Trump tried to reference the widely known conspiracy theory that George HW Bush was personally and directly involved in JFK’s assassination. It’s a classic conspiracy theory, as far as they go, with lots of great coincidences, reliance on the secrecy of the CIA and general distrust of government overall.

It was odd to see a presidential candidate bring it up, but he had already been bringing up things that candidates simply had not done. For example he pointed out in interviews that Israel had nuclear weapons and we all know that, which no candidate had done, because the US’s official position is to never comment on that, and the press happily stuck to the US position and gave him a pass.

When he bungled who Jeb & Ted were, he simply accused Ted’s dad of killing JFK. That’s nonsensical, unless of course you follow what the nutjobs are saying here and there. And anyone who does immediately knew he meant Jeb.

So what did the coverage focus on? “How will Cruz react to Trump calling his dad a murderer?”

Totally asinine way of looking at the flub. But it was a feeding frenzy clamoring for Ted’s response. I believe that they simply didn’t know how to highlight something they were afraid to touch. That conspiracy theory was too hot to mention without looking like a conspiracist too. I don’t recall a single reporter or news outlet asking Trump about wtf he was thinking. (They may have, but it didn’t rise above the din of Ted questions.)

There has been some improvement in coverage. Eight years ago I think we would’ve seen reporters demanding Biden respond to Trump’s confusion. The fact that this is raising tepid questions about Trump is a major change and a welcome one. There’s a long way to go in covering Trump’s idiotic rambling without cleaning up his quotes, but at least this one thing is finally breaking through the wall of deference that Trump has inexplicably enjoyed.

[yanderes-galore]

I loved headcanons with Sanford and Deimos with a sibling, can do a similar thing with yandere!2bdamned but with a darling!daughter (platonic of course!!!), it's funny because every time I think of Doc I can't stop seeing him as a dad friend of the group

I guess he is kind of a dad, lol. Shorter than I wanted but it's honestly pretty cryptic.

Original 2BDAMNED Concept

Yandere! Platonic! 2BDamned with Darling who's his kid

Short Concept

Pairing: Platonic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Overprotective behavior, Drugging mention, Isolation, Jealousy implied, 2B is a twisted dad, Manipulation, Darling's origin is vague.

2B is a yandere that takes a long time to form an obsession normally due to his job.

He's always busy and struggles with personal connections.

But with you already being his kid?

It just skips half of his obsession time since he's known you even before he was shoved this job.

Per usual he's skilled in hiding his obsession.

It's easier with you since you're probably used to his behavior and think it's normal.

2B can get away with a lot if you're his kid.

Father knows best, right?

His protective behavior just feels like dad behavior.

There's obvious reasons he keeps you in the lab!

His lies to you aren't manipulation... he's looking out for you.

He also keeps you away from people like Hank simply because they could hurt you!

2B has a much easier time controlling you if you're his kid.

He's taken care of you since you were young.

Your home has always been in his lab.

You barely have time to converse with the others as he sends them away on missions so quickly.

There's a good chance your birth may have been through cloning since you... can't seem to remember anything but the lab?

He may have also just drugged you if you misbehaved, it's impossible to say.

I feel 2B is actually worse as a dad.

This is because he has so much more control over you.

2B is all you know.

You've been able to chat with the others at times but for the most part but 2B usually calls you back over.

Hank's silent around you but appears to enjoy your company since he's so comfortable around 2B.

Deimos likes to tease you and Sanford treats you like a younger sibling at times.

2B tolerates them around you... but ultimately likes you alone with him.

2B feels comfort when he knows you're beside him.

He could be hard at work and you just hugging him or standing beside him makes him calm.

2B appears to be mentally distant at times, often coming across as grumpy.

However... 2B does offer affection.

There's times where 2B hugs you and strokes your back.

You have your own room in the lab.

2B often tries to have you help him with work to keep you entertained.

Even as a dad he still struggles to understand kids... but loves you dearly.

Others will notice 2B's strange behavior before you.

Deimos often comments to the others that 2B is a bit... obsessive.

No one in the group but 2B knows when you've been outside last.

You don't even recall an outside.

That's all 2B's business.

You shouldn't want to go outside if Jeb and Tricky are out there anyways.

You could say 2B's restricting your freedoms... that's what the others say

2B reasons that you're happy with him.

You haven't wanted to go outside so why force you....

Doesn't help that he wipes your memory.

The others don't get to parent you in 2B's mind.

That means they don't have a say in how he treats you.

You love him, that's all that matters.

He means every hug... he means every word he says to you.

You should only need him since he's the one who take cares of you.

2B would actually break his composure if you went outside with one of the others.

He's normally so calm... so stoic towards everyone.

He actually begins to show fear before hunting you down.

If one of the others took you out... 2B is tempted to kill them.

He holds back, however.

He brings you back inside his lab, scolds you, and locks the others out for awhile.

2B is controlling, obviously.

He wants full control of his kid and isn't really one for you making friends.

Nevada doesn't have many good grunts for friends anyways... so just listen to him.

2B keeps his kid oblivious.

If you ever got hurt, he patches you up.

If you ever cried, he cheers you up.

If he found out who hurt you, they're a dead grunt.

2B tries to be a caring dad.

In your eyes he IS a caring dad, he's just made you too oblivious to know the truth of his actions

[girlwiththenegantattoo]

Hey guys!! I've gotten an itch to write about Jeb again despite needing to finish the second part of Hoover, Nobody Does it Like You and my JT fic (I was worried I've just stopped enjoying writing but thanks to the Hamfam it's just a slew of things going on atm). Anyways this baby is mostly all written I just want to make some edits and give y'all a sneak peek. Hope it strikes your interest and any input is welcomed.

Juror #6

“Let me guess, you don't recall?”

The once quiet courtroom, save for the sound of clicking cameras, suddenly came alive with low laughter and conversations that could only be about the man, Jeb Magruder, sitting ever so uncomfortably in front of them all. In Sheila’s opinion Jeb was far from innocent however, witnessing dismissive gestures from men in illy fitted suits and women with beehive hairdos that reminded her of her grandmother, only exacerbated her frustration.

The front of Jeb’s face was perfectly visible from the seat Sheila was assigned to. She could see the embarrassment build up from behind his blue eyes, eyes of which would be alluring in any other circumstance. The rosey color that blossomed across his cheeks and the awkward twitch of the corner of his lips (in an attempt to smile?) also brought on an emotion Sheila dared not to think about.

If only for once Sheila hadn’t let her emotions influence the decision she made. Honesty would have revealed her disgust for Republicans. Perhaps that would have disqualified her from being a juror in this trial. Instead there she sat, stuck in a courtroom full of people determined to get justice for criminal acts committed by the US government. In another life this would be an easy guilty verdict from Sheila Anderson. That was of course in another life where Jeb Magruder hadn���t sat down at that god awful looking wooden table.



[cosmica-galaxy]

How would jebus,skinner,doc and hoffnar react to them spotting fem player take out her ovories?

TW: Surgery, organ mention, and minor blood. -- JEB: Seeing you taking out your reproductive parts is nothing short of startling for the man. He doesn't have a good grasp on human anatomy, but aren't those the organs that are required to make little players like yourself? He's curious at why you would commit to removing such a thing from your body, but it's your body and you can do whatever you want with it. Who would he be if he considered jurisdiction over your own body? A tyrant. Just like Phobos. So while he helps you get surgery to remove your unwanted parts, he finds himself curious about your anatomy while you go under the knife. With careful supervision over the AAHW units working on your body, Jeb finds your anatomy both eerily similar to grunts and surprisingly unique at the same time. He had to snap at the medical unit that stabbed into your flesh just a little too hard, showing that your body was indeed not as resistant as grunts are. With his guidance, the surgery was success and you were stitched back up and sent to recovery. Instead of discarding the unwanted organs, Jeb decides to keep your dispatched sex organs to study...if you allow him to, that is. He'll respect your wishes above all. SKINNER: Skinner is not overly surprised. In fact, he's the one that did the surgery to take them out! He's done plenty of surgeries on his patients, this is nothing new to him. Except it kinda is? When was the last time he ever took out a grunt's breeding bits? He can't recall. Still, with your permission, he preforms the surgery and it's successful! He doesn't understand why you wanted them out, but maybe there is a godly reason that he just simply can't understand as a mere mortal. The removed organs looked rather interesting if he did say so himself. It's amazing how little gods can come from these. With your permission, he would like to keep them in a jar to study and look at later. What? What do you mean he's so weird? Why? You don't want them! It's better than throwing them in the garbage!

DOC: Doc was trying to make sure that you were 100% certain that you wanted your breeding bits ripped out of you before he commits. He's not a true doctor, but he knows enough about anatomy of grunts to stitch one back together over and over again. Operating on a human, however, was a much more tricky process. With your permission, he's allowed to cut you open and remove the bits from your body. While he's both worried and disturbed, I mean this was his PLAYER he was cutting open, he couldn't help but be fascinated by the organs and hands on research he's getting about the human anatomy. He has to control himself, however. You only have so much blood to work with. So, he safely removes the ovaries and stitches you back up. Once you come back around, he makes sure you're okay and lets you know the procedure is done. He even asks if he could keep the ovaries for research purposes. HOFFNAR: Hoffnar is worried about you going under the knife, especially since most grunts don't know much about your anatomy! What if they cut something wrong or they split you open and can't get you back together? He's a fretful mess about the possibilities of something going wrong, but with the right reassurance, he slowly comes around to the idea. Upon watching you undergo the surgery with the Nexus medical staff, Hoffnar is stressed beyond belief as he watches them rip out organs and riffle through your body looking for parts. He didn't even realize that his hands were shaking until Jeb points them out to him. However, once the surgery is complete and you are safely put back together to recover, Hoffnar gets wind of some of the staff talking about Phobo's interest in the discarded organs. Hoffnar can only watch as the Nexus staff take the organs and head elsewhere with them. While he's concerned about what they were planning to do with those, he was more concerned with you. So he puts off the ovaries in favor of visiting you while you wake up from surgery.

[askmadcomcrew]

I drew all of you

laugh or something idk

Hank: Cool.

Sanford: Hey, I'm lookin' pretty good there. My chin isn't that big, though.

Deimos: You really captured my award winning smile. I think it's one of my more underrated qualities.

Doc: Ah, seeing myself with the mohawk brings back fond memories.

Tricky: OH BOY!!! AM I ABOUT TO EAT HANK'S HEAD!?!? I'D HAVE EATEN HIS BRAINS A LONG TIME AGO, BUT I'M AFRAID I'D HAVE GONE HUNGRY!!! HAHAHAHAHA

Jeb: Hmm, I do not recall my beard being so...Bushy, but I do appreciate the generous addition.

Sheriff: Oh, so lil' ol' sheriff don't get t' be included none? I see how it is.

Crackpot: Wow, I'm very...Birdlike here! I kind of like it.

Auditor: I do enjoy how prominent my visage is here.

Phobos: While any and all depictions of my Holiness are appreciated, must I be so out of the way and in the corner? Any pieces depicting me should have me as the primary focus.

[js-sunflowers]

what i remember about tubbo

[x x x] [x x x] how to begin. my little brother, the sibling i found and the one i couldn't keep tubbo was creative. an inventor, he loved to tinker with whatever he got his hands on i remember we would go looking for scraps to make stuff out on the streets, and in the woods, and along the riverside and when it'd get late, i'd carry him back to puffy's or phil's house on my back. he wasn't heavy, no matter how old he got ambitious and bold, he was ready to do whatever he put his mind to i taught him how to cut hair (i was not the best at it. tubbo learned more from wilbur than he did from me) tubbo, puffy and i would play games on puffy's living room floor on the occasions when she'd be home he'd come home with new embroidery on all his clothes from tom, and eventually started doing it himself he wasn't very comfortable with talking to people when he was younger. we used to try and play slight-of-hand tricks on each other, stealing coin, playing cards, little trinkets tubbo was always covered in dirt from tommy. he hated it /lh tried to get me to come close to his bees. would not get close to his bees i was too afraid i wanted to keep him safe in manburg. i lost the plot along the way, i think. i wish i hadn't. you dont have to come home if you don't want, tubbo. i know that i broke my promises. i love you, tubbs. i'm sorry for hurting you, and i'm sorry turning into somebody you didn't recognize.

[stinkcapsule]

keenan has eloped with honey and had a science baby, kustard! + random photos of honey's spoiled cat.

cella has aged up into a mean cheerleader with no friends🤷

caprese during a slumber party with kids that her mom randomly invited. most of them went home as soon as the sun rose, so caprese was only able to take photos with miki and nanami :(

misael has aged up into a teen with a compassion for animals, and adopted a stray named bernese.

during a vet visit, misael met leila. turns out, leila was his schoolmate despite never recalling seeing her at school. during prom, leila insisted to dance outside the auditorium. although curious, misael didn't bother asking for a reason and just went along.

-

rocio and jeb started having a mid-life crisis. jeb, being the good and loyal sim that he is, wanted to try something new and divorce rocio. the most stupid thing that ever happened to their silly sim life as he still became sad right after, so they got back together and remarried.

meanwhile rocio only wanted to be more creative during her crisis and started to try cross-stitching and knitting. caprese even joined in the fun :)

such is life, rocio & jeb are now in their elderly era. most of their days are spent with family, and reminiscing inside their dragonfruit garden that helped them be where they are today.

[thinksthatit-sbesttonotlookback]

Final Log

I’m dictating this as my final entry of my journal. I have a lot to say, but not enough time to capture all of my thoughts, feelings, and emotions from the last two weeks. I will cut to the chase, and start at the beginning of this nightmare.

The Company offered a new contract to the interns, with a major twist. Instead of the usual three day quota we were given one for twelve days, and the crew could be more than the usual four, however it had to consist of “all-stars”; or at least that’s the phrasing one of my future teammates used. The Company wanted to test longer expeditions and chose to use the best of the best to test it out. I can vividly recall meeting my team in a sterile-white room owned by the Company. There I met my teammates. Interns #034, #69943, #101, #393, #939, #1245, #202, #102, #005, Additional Asset #2, and…

To hell with this, if our employers aren’t going to respect their sacrifices, then I won’t discuss them in an unattached way. Besides, we never respected the numbering system anyway. I knew them by their name, age, and what they did or how they acted.

Adam - 25 - Relaxed under pressure Ozzie - 18 - Studious medic Mike - 19 - Bug enthusiast Jessica - 29 - Animal Hater Patricia - 6 - Stowaway Derrick - 52 - Stone-faced Captain Sally - 78 - Veteran Survivor Frida - 31 - Florist Norman - 29 - Seismologist Reggie - 22 - Skittish Dayani - 32 - Headstrong Calico - 28 - Paranoid Haley - 34 - Bubbly Hugo - 21 - Playful Griffin - 22 - Defensive Engineer Killdane - 24 - Vigilant Polly - 27 - Clueless

I met them all in the office where our employer Jeb, who never physically appeared, rather spoke to us through the intercom in the wall, laid out in short, curt terms of what our goal was and the new tweaks to allow it. Afterwards we boarded our deluxe spacecraft, designed to fit all of us, food, extra storages for scrap and more. It was here we found our little stowaway Patricia, or Patty as we called her, who was Miss Sally’s granddaughter. We couldn’t drop her off due to the ship’s autopilot, so she stayed with us for the trip. God I wish she hadn’t.

Our first landing was one of the moons in the Experimentation cluster, and we faced no problem other than a few hisses of steam. We celebrated an easy trip and let our guards down, cracking jokes, partaking of some snacks. The real shit began when we landed on one of the moons in the Vow Cluster. Jessica, Frida, Calico, and Mike went out for the excursion. Along their way to the facility they had ran across a Baboon Hawk and the occasional Circuit Bee nest, complaining about it as they went inside, with Calico whimpering that they didn’t think this was going to be as easy this time around. I would have thought that this was going to be a fairly easy trip like the prior moon, but Calico’s screaming through the walkie-talkies proved otherwise. She had been devoured by a Thumper, the crunching of her bones in its jaws echoed through the small handheld device of ours; Miss Sally cupped Patty’s ears to prevent her from hearing it. Then things became worse as the remaining three were separated as they escaped. The Baboon Hawk from earlier had not forgotten about Jessica nor her complaints about her (or was she the one doing the complaining? She hated animals so I assumed so, either it doesn’t matter) because a pack swarmed her and pecked her to death. And on the topic of swarm, I had the misfortune to witness Mike get stung to death by the Circuit Bees. He tried to walk right by them but he was too encumbered, and we all had to hear him cry out in pain as he was shocked and stung to death; a shame for a young man whose family’s past involved beekeeping, it would’ve been an ironic laugh had he not perished. Frida came running past him, narrowly avoiding the bees. Tears were painted on her face, while fear was etched into her features. A loud booming thud was echoing across the ground, shaking the ship with each one. A Forest Keeper, or Guardian as they were often referred to as back at base. Frida tripped and fell prone, using her remaining strength to throw her lighter scrap into the ship’s loading bay before she was grabbed by the curious giant and bitten in half. Her screams still reverberated in my ears as her waist and legs crumpled to the ground. The keeper began to walk off and was tagged in by the bloodied horde of Baboon Hawks. The Circuit Bees I believe injected a kind of venom in Mike, as his skin began to bubble and he began to rise up again. Sally shut the door and Derrick started the ship and we flew off.

In a single moon we had lost four of our team, a near fifth of our numbers swallowed up in mere moments. Haley asked that we prepare a small memorial for them, but Derrick scorned her, chewing her out for being distracted from our main mission of the quota. We were falling behind and charged for their deaths. We silently resolved to do better at our next moon, which was in the Assurance cluster. Ozzie, Reggie, Griffin, and Adam went out to the dusty planet. Only two of them came back.

According to Ozzie, everything was fine until halfway through, where Bunker SPiders emerged and gave them chase. Griffin was getting into an argument with some Hoarding Bugs at the time, and the presence of the spiders initiated an aggression spike, so Griffin went down attempting to reclaim some of his stolen scrap. Adam and Reggie were defending Ozzie as he quickly moved some scrap outside the front entrance. Adam got injured but Reggie was overwhelmed, injected with some venom and rolled up. Ozzie says he would’ve gone back but that the webbing was pulsing, and he didn’t like the idea of what had become of Reggie. We had some casualties but some profit. Derrick wouldn’t let us recover Griffin’s body, and instead took off as soon as Adam and Ozzie stepped foot onto the ship. Speaking of the two, they seemed to kindle some type of romantic attraction, as they were staring deep into each other’s eyes as Ozzie tended to Adam’s wounds. Perhaps if we all survived they would have married…

Augh. My wounds are flaring up, so I will lump the next few moons into one. After we spent a “day” off moons for Adam, we then visited a moon from the Dine cluster and then one from Titan. I was a part of both scrap retrieval teams on those moons, adventuring with the likes of Sally, Dayani, Hugo, Haley, Ozzie, Adam, and myself (for both trips). On Dine we all had to hear Haley’s panic as she got cornered by a NutCracker, and hear the gunfire and subsequent splat as her chest was forcibly shot open by a shotgun. Dayani lost autonomy of her body as she was taken over by a Snare Flea. I still don’t know why some of them were being….transformed, i suppose, into new creatures or hybrids, but it doesn’t matter. No amount of intellectual curiosity will shake me from my sadness, for we still lost Dayani. As we were leaving the sound of metal halted Sally and I. She… she told me to go on without her. To make sure that Patty could survive this whole ordeal. We argued but eventually I complied and left the facility. I can only imagine that she slowly closed her eyes as the Coil Head removed her head from her body, and replaced it with that accursed spring. Explaining what happened to Patty was tough, and Derrick’s cold cynicism was NOT helping.

Hugo, Adam, Ozzie, and myself were at the Titan moon when our bad luck streak worsened. Ozzie and I stayed together and managed to deliver some scrap back to the ship a few times, and we had initially thought our luck had finally turned, but we could hear in our comms the accursed wind-up sound, and realized that Hugo wasn’t with us at the entrance. We began a small search for him, but the sudden stoppage of music made us fold, and we had to leave him behind. Outside we saw Patricia,playing around the railing. She jumped in happiness to see us, only for the railing to give way. I dove for her hand, but missed her by a few seconds. After that is a blur, but I do remember searching for her body as best as I could, screaming for her name before Derrick forcibly moved me into the ship and started it up. I had failed Sally. I had let a little girl perish. Ozzie tried to console me. It didn’t help but I lied and told him it did.

March had myself, Ozzie, and Adam exploring. When we entered the facility we split up to cover more ground and Adam was accosted by the Hygrodere. At this point I had grown to accept that this was a doomed mission. According to Ozzie, the slime reacted abnormally and created a tendril-like appendage and snipped Adam’s oxygen tube and began to enter it, filling him up. I pressed Ozzie for more details but his flushed face did paint a picture, especially based on our conversations nights prior about more personal matters. We tried to continue exploring, but Ozzie ran off, only mentioning in his comms, “I see him!”. Ozzie had confided in me that he was only an intern at the Company to recover his father, who went missing years prior. I was on the ship when Ozzie’s voice rang through our comms, “I found him! I found my lost dad! I’m bringing him back to the ship!”. Derrick grumbled but didn’t take off, and I watched with Norman to see Ozzie return. To my horror, he was walking back to the ship with the Bracken! The same creature that hated prolonged eye contact and snapped necks, yet here he was, hand held by Ozzie, who was leading him with a smile to the ship. I had heard rumors of there being the original Bracken who couldn;t disintegrate when killed, I wondered if this is who it was. After all it seemed to be way more in control then prior Brackens. But Derrick wasn’t thinking this, as he pulled the lever and started the ship. We tried to reverse it but couldn’t. Forever in my brain will be Ozzie’s shrinking face: Despair, hurt, hopelessness, anger, and fear.

A fight broke out as Norman clocked Derrick for abandoning Ozzie. It actually got intense, but we put that aside to do a run on an Offense moon. Killdane, Polly, and Norman did the run into the facility. Polly ran into a Spore Lizard and spooked it. Like normal, a cloud of pinkish spores covered her goggles and her coughing could be heard throughout the comms. I could hear the beep of the landmine, but she didn’t. She survived the blast, but not the turret she stumbled into. Killdane was taken down by a fake, one of the Masked. He fought it valiantly, but I was able to hear the blood being spat onto him as a new mask formed. As Norman left I could feel the rumblings of one of those fucking worms. Norman made a comment that he wished he could study the seismic activity here, and unfortunately his wish came true, as a Earth Leviathan erupted from the ground and swallowed him whole. I remember screaming his name from the ship’s balcony before I heard the growls from behind. I ran back inside and ducked into a corner. Derrick snapped at me for being a wuss before the Eyeless Dog that heard me snatched Derrick up and tore him in thirds. The dog walked to the entrance of the ship and laid down, forcing me to act carefully. I slowly reached for the control panel and initiated take off, pulling the stick back so that gravity would send the beast out. It worked, but the flailing dog swiped one of our fuel boosters and shit went down.

I survived the crash, which I believe now to be more of our curse. I have to laugh, how could I ever think we’d all be able to survive? We’d just be put down later on by the Company anyway. Now I dictate this from an unknown moon’s facility. I’m wounded from a turret and honestly losing hope. I have just enough energy to finish this, and then I will take a very, long, nap. To anyone who finds this, know that we did not die in vain. Our deaths and disappearances should change, bare minimum, how the Company runs things. Please remember us, please save yourselves, please find what we couldn’t. I have no time to explain our side goals, or go into the sanity pills debacle, but please use what I have left behind to survive. Please?

Now, this old man must take a nap. A spore lizard is sniffing me, and I think it either wants to share this sleep or nibble on me. This is the final log of Sigurd, signing out.

[satureja13]

The gates to the Other World are open on Beltane, like on all festivals in the Wheel of the Year and it's common to set up an altar with offerings for the spirits. But here they are welcome to serve themselves at the table. Jeb's family is not that fancy and more down-to-earth with their magic ^^'

Ji Ho hadn't had the chance to swim for a while, so he sneaked away after dinner. Vlad followed him. Just to be sure. Ji Ho almost drowned here once.

(And because Vlad loves to see Ji Ho swim. Since he knows Ji Ho is the happiest then.)

As soon as it got dark, they gathered at the holy well. Barfolomew was responsible providing the May Pole this year. Something that represents a phallus and has something to do with Star Wars of course... But they arent picky and most of the boys like Star Wars anyway so they left their offerings and Jeb cast his spell to bless the water.

'The first water drawn from a well on Beltane was thought to be especially potent, and would bring good luck to the person who drew it.' (source: wikipedia) Then they filled a bottle with the holy water each.

Greg lit the fires and they danced. 'Lighting the Beltane fires on the first of May was a symbolic move to recall the growing power of the sun and cleanse the community of the dark months spent indoors.' (-> source)

Ji Ho and Vlad had been told that they didn't have to charge the bond beforehand because it would be more efficient to do it here. Vlad was hesistant. He feared Ji Ho would be rough again ö.ö But he wasn't. Francine did a good Job with the spells ;)

'Give me again all that was there Give me the sun that shone Give me the eyes, give me the soul Give me the lad that's gone'

The Skye Boat Song - Kathryn Jones Which was also the Opening Theme of 'Outlander'

From the Beginning  ~  Underwater Love ~  Latest

[pegplunkett]

gaslit might be over but hot jeb summer is only beginning

Long Hot Summer

part one | part two | part three

ao3 link here

pairing: haimgruder x OG val (my beloved!)

word count: 2746

rating: pretty f*ckin explicit as usual, my dudes!

middle image of our boy jeb by @plainlo-inthemorning

Val pulled into her driveway on Saturday morning, singing along to Deep Purple on the radio to find her next-door neighbour out watering his lawn. She had woken up early and decided to take a trip to the hardware store to make a start on painting her new living room, one of the many plans she had for her house. When she saw the tall figure of Jeb Magruder out in his garden, she remembered with a jolt that she’d had a dream about him the night before. She had woken up in the dark, squeezing her thighs together as she lay in bed. The image in her mind had been as vivid as the ache between her legs, and she remembered feeling his mouth on her neck, his breath on her skin. She hadn’t seen him since the evening she moved in and had convinced herself in the few days in-between that she was remembering him wrong, that he probably wasn’t quite as handsome as she recalled. She was pleased to see that she was wrong. If anything, he looked even better than that first day, dressed casually - for him, at least - in a blue polo shirt and slacks. The early morning sun cast a golden glow across his dark hair and his forearms as he concentrated on his garden. She clambered out of the car and waved at him.

‘Good morning, neighbour!’

Jeb looked over, seeming startled by her appearance for some reason. Must have been lost in thought, Val supposed. She could have sworn a panicked look flitted across his face for a split second but then he smiled weakly and waved back at her. 

‘M- uh-', he cleared his throat, ‘Morning!’ he called back. Val turned and grabbed her bag of supplies from the backseat of the car. When she straightened up with her bag of sandpaper, paintbrushes and rollers and turned for her front door, she noticed that Jeb had managed to drop the hose he was holding and seemed to have thoroughly soaked his shoes. Poor guy. 

An hour later, Val stood back in her mostly-cleared living room and realised that she had everything she needed to get painting, except for a ladder. She had thought that maybe standing on chairs would do the trick, but it turned out she still wouldn’t be able to reach high enough. She chewed her lip and considered another trip to the store, before realising that surely a friendly neighbour should be able to help her out, right?

_______________________________________

Jeb took a deep breath and tried to pull himself together. He’d managed to avoid seeing his new neighbour since that first night, hesitating at the front door every morning before leaving for work, trying to put her out of his mind as he went through the motions at the office, but he couldn’t put off running into her again forever. When he’d gone out to tend the lawn that morning, her driveway was empty, so he figured he was safe to do some watering. Maybe he’d wash the car, too. Gail had taken the boys to visit her parents for a few days and he’d been planning what he’d do with his free weekend when suddenly there was Val, greeting him as she got out of her car. And then she’d bent over to pick something up from the backseat and all he could do was stare at her ass and marvel at how it looked in yet another pair of shorts. An orange pair this time. God, her hips, her thighs. She looked so good bent over and he tried not to picture himself right behind her, sinking his cock into her while she looked over her shoulder at him, telling him to go harder, harder. Jesus Jeb, get a grip, he told himself, and in his panic at almost being caught staring, he’d dropped the hose, which was why he was now changing into dry socks and shoes. 

Back downstairs, Jeb felt a little more composed and wandered into the garage. He raised the door to let the sunlight in and after pottering around for a while, tidying and reorganising, focusing on small achievable tasks that would take his mind off her, he thought he’d treat himself to a mid-afternoon beer. He had a little mini-fridge stowed under a workbench and two comfortable chairs in the corner. Gail had decorated the house, but out here, this little corner was Jeb’s domain. He had considered putting in a bar, but even though Gail claimed not to care what he did with the space, he knew she'd disapprove. Just as he had settled into his chair and found a Yankees game to listen to on the radio, there she was again. Val. His heart felt like it lurched in his chest at the sight of her. Silhouetted in the sunlight, standing outside the garage. Her hair gleaming, her shorts curving along the sweep of her hips and he had to blink to make sure he wasn’t imagining her. 

‘Hello again!’

‘Hi, hello, what- uh, what can I do for you?’

Jeb scrambled to stand up, feeling like he’d been caught out somehow, even though he was perfectly entitled to have a beer in his own garage during the day. He realised then that he really just wanted Val to like him. Her eyes went to the beer in his hand and to his relief, she grinned pleasantly.

‘Sorry if I’m interrupting, I just wondered whether you had a ladder I could borrow? I promise I’ll bring it right back when I’m done.’

A ladder! Yes, this he could definitely help her with. Everyone appreciates a helpful neighbour and while Jeb was starting to realise he would probably do anything she asked, he was glad that this was something he could easily provide.

‘Yes, yes of course, I’ll just, uh, I’ll grab it for you now.’ Jeb pulled his folded-up ladder from the wall and leaned it against the worktop. ‘Would you.. would you like a beer?’ Jeb wasn’t sure what came over him, but surely it was the neighbourly thing to do, wasn’t it? Being hospitable? She probably just wanted to get the ladder and go though, she was busy, had things to do, he could see that.

‘You read my mind, I would love one Jeb, thank you! This heat is killing me.’

Wait, what? With a start, Jeb realised he was just standing there, so he beckoned her in and pulled another bottle from his fridge, motioning for her to sit down. She walked in and took the beer from his hand, and Jeb was acutely aware that this was the closest she had been to him. He could see now that there were freckles dotted across her nose and she smelled of something smoky but sweet. Some kind of incense, maybe? Val took the other chair and Jeb settled back into his, trying to appear cool and collected. Trying not to look at her breasts because the way they moved when she bounced into the chair made it clear that she wasn't wearing a bra. This was fine, wasn’t it?

‘Thanks for this, I haven’t even started painting yet but I already feel like I have a day’s work done,’ Val sighed. She looked around appreciatively. ‘Nice set-up you’ve got here. So, Jeb Magruder, what is it that you do for a living?’ 

Jeb hesitated for a second. ‘I uh, I work in the White House. Campaign stuff.’ Val’s eyebrows raised as she drank her beer and Jeb shifted in his seat. From what little he knew about her, it seemed highly unlikely that Val was a Republican voter, and so far she seemed to like him well enough so he tried to change the subject. 

‘Is Val short for Valerie?’ Jesus Jeb, what’s the matter with you. He immediately felt stupid for asking, but Val didn’t seem to mind.

‘Nope, Valentine,’ she grinned. ‘I was born on February 14th and I guess my parents are hopeless romantics.’ 

‘That’s, oh, well that’s lovely.’ He meant it too. It seemed like whenever he thought he could guess something about her, or get some kind of handle on her, she twirled away and instead revealed something he didn’t expect. 

‘Is Jeb short for…’ she cast around for a second. ‘Jebediah?’

Jeb chuckled, finally feeling his nerves around her ease a little bit. ‘No, just Jeb.’ His father had named him after a Confederate general, but he didn’t want to tell her that. They’d just managed to get away from the subject of his work and the last thing he wanted was to risk that even his name might be a disappointment to her. 

They talked about her time in college, him growing up in Staten Island and before he knew it, almost an hour had gone by. Val only just seemed to realise it too, when she asked him what time it was and said she’d better get going. 

‘I’ll carry the ladder for you,’ Jeb insisted. ‘It’s heavy, and I can help you get set up.’

‘You’re a lifesaver, Jeb Magruder.' He didn't know why she kept using his full name, but he found that he liked it. How her mouth looked as she said it. It was better than a nickname somehow. 'Also, I meant to thank you earlier!’

Jeb lifted the ladder under one arm and looked over at her. ‘You did?’

‘Yeah, your tip about making the bed the day I was moving in! Genius! It was the first thing I did and lemme tell you, I was so glad it was done when it was past midnight and all I had to do was take off my dusty clothes and drop into it.’

Jeb almost spluttered in surprise. She was making fun of him. No, she.. she was smiling as always, but this smile was different. Wicked, even. He could feel his face burning and was glad when she turned and started towards her house, calling that she’d get the front door for him as she walked ahead, hips swaying in those goddamned shorts. 

_______________________________________

Val, Val, Val, what are you doing? She felt reckless and giddy as she led Jeb into her house. There was something so hot about how easy it was to get him flustered and she just couldn’t help herself with that last remark. She knew it was wrong of her to flirt so brazenly with a married man, but she’d seen the way he looked at her and now that she knew he was almost certainly a Republican, the idea of putting those typical conservative family values to the test sent a thrill of excitement through her. And god help her, she just really wanted to fuck that man. To have him come apart beneath her, bring him to tears with her mouth, hell, maybe even make him come so hard that he has a liberal awakening. She led him into the living room, where her few pieces of furniture had been covered with sheets and she pointed to a corner of the room.

‘Over here would be great, thank you so much.’

She savoured the sight of his arms once again as he carried the ladder to the corner and stood it upright for her, making sure it was steady. She bit her lip and tried to come up with a way to stop him from running out the door.

‘You’re the best. While I have you though, what do you think of this light fixture? I was thinking of replacing it, but maybe I should leave it?’ She pointed up at the old fashioned light that hung from the centre of the ceiling that she genuinely couldn’t have cared less about.

‘I like it,’ he said, looking up. ‘It’s um… timeless.’ He stepped around to look at it from different sides, like he was giving it serious thought. Val was looking up too and stepped back, not realising that Jeb had circled around behind her and was standing so close. She collided with him, both of them exclaiming in surprise, and managed to send them both crashing into one of her soft armchairs in a tangle of limbs. 

‘Oh my god I’m so sorry, are you okay?!’ she asked, laughing too hard to get up. Jeb was laughing too and between giggles assured her that he was fine, but then stopped abruptly. And Val could tell why. The way they landed had left Val sitting on his lap and now she could feel an unmistakable bulge hardening beneath her. Jeb’s entire body had frozen, as if in fright, but Val made no move to get up.

‘I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I’ll just go, I’ll, uh.. if you could just..’ The words rushed out of him and Val could hear the embarrassment in his voice. But instead of standing up, she leaned back against his chest, pushing her ass into his lap, eliciting a strangled whimper from him. ‘What..what are you..’

‘It’s okay,’ she whispered. 

She turned her face and dropped a kiss on his cheek, then shifted her position, sitting forward and still facing away, her knees either side of his thighs and slowly started to grind against his growing erection. Knowing how much she turned him on was sending sparks through her limbs and the friction of their clothes rubbing against her pussy, with his hardness so rigid under her was giving her a delicious twist of pleasure. But what was really doing it for her was the ragged breathing and helpless whimpers coming from Jeb behind her. She looked over her shoulder at him to see him transfixed by the movement of her ass on his lap. He looked up at her, eyes wide and mouth open in disbelief at what was happening. 

‘Should I stop, Jeb?’ Her voice was low.

‘N-no, please… please don’t stop,’ he breathed, blue eyes almost looking tearful. 

His hands fluttered on the arms of the chair, clearly unsure as to whether he should touch her, even though she was literally grinding on his dick. She took his big warm hands in hers and put them on her tits, guiding his fingers to pinch her nipples through her t-shirt. He gasped as he felt them harden under his touch, and she moaned, arching her back at the pleasure it sent spiralling through her. She felt his body stiffen again, but this time it wasn’t from fright. Even through the layers of clothing she could feel his cock twitching under her and she knew that Jeb had just come. His shuddering breath would have given him away even if everything else hadn’t already. Well, that was almost too easy. Val hopped up from the seat and turned to see Jeb looking stricken, his face pale and mortified. 

His mouth opened and closed and he stood up in a hurry, running his hands through his hair and looking panicked while Val watched him with interest. 

‘I, uh, I’m..’ He was stammering and clearly had no idea what to say. 

Val decided to cut him some slack and reached up, taking his face in her hands. She pulled him down into a kiss, his soft lips parting to allow her tongue into his mouth and she could feel rather than see that his hands were about to start flapping uselessly in confusion again. She pulled away and tilted her head. 

‘Thanks for all your help, Jeb. You can go out the back door if you’d prefer, seeing as.. y’know,’ she gestured to the front of his trousers.

Jeb nodded wordlessly and turned to go, then stopped. ‘Th-thank you, and I’m.. I’m sorry,’ he said, his eyes still wide, as if he still wasn’t quite sure what had just happened. 

‘Nothing to be sorry for,’ Val grinned. 

Jeb opened the back door and turned around again. ’This is probably a dumb question and out of the blue I guess, but.. you.. you’re a Democrat, aren’t you?’ 

Her smile grew even wider and she looked thoughtful for a second. ‘You know, if anything, I’m really more of a socialist.’

Jeb looked like he was about to pass out as he wordlessly turned to leave and shuffle back to his house. Living in the suburbs was shaping up to be much more fun than Val had expected.

[homenecromancer]

had the short thought “man it’s wild that Jeb outlived Dr. Martinez”

briefly recalled an AU idea i wish i could just project onto paper, involving Jeb being like… sort of a ghost haunting his own cloned body

then had one of those flashes of inspiration that only occur when you don’t have writing materials:

AU where Valencia’s angry ghost first haunts Jeb — then gets thermonuclear furious when, after his death, she can’t find his ghost anywhere — and all that interwoven with recollections of her own life and death

the core, like, thesis statement would be along these lines: The funny thing is, I can’t find a trace of you anywhere — and you were always the one who couldn’t let go.

[girlwiththenegantattoo]

I wrote this in honor of @everythingbutresolved over the holidays we write smut but got motivated by @aherdofbees Jeb drawing to make it Christmas themed. Bringing my girl Mila back but neither have history.

Smut, praise kink and Jeb being a sad dad ensues

How To Catch A Reindeer

There was such a gentle grace in the way the little girl's red dress billowed with her twirling movements, causing the small gold reindeers at the bottom to look as if they were prancing with every wave of its fabric.

Her laugh, a joyous sound like any eight year old's, brought smiles to many of the attendees, both on the dance floor and seated at their tables. Though the little girl was what your typical definition of adorable was, it was the man that stood towering above her, swaying in an awkward attempt to dance, while holding her hand; that really caught Mila's attention.

Jeb Magruder is the name Mila hears from whispers of excitement over the duo and although she just started working for that company, she was also able to come to the conclusion that the amount of attention he was currently receiving was not a common occurrence. That fact alone struck Mila as odd. Another alluring question, of the many that were beginning to pile up.

Timing had never really been a skill set of Mila’s, not really, but as red lips met the rim of her now empty glass, the timing of which she chose to refill her beverage fell perfectly in between the changing of events. Turning from the bar Mila watched the girl hop in excitement as a woman approached Jeb. Judging by his drastic change in demeanor and the way she spoke to him Mila was willing to bet it was the ex wife others spoke about. Their conversation was brief but as Jeb reached down to give his daughter a hug his cheeks were painting red. A woman's venom could be given in very few words.

As Mila continued to watch from the bar, a feeling of something she usually refused to acknowledge, softly tugged at her heart. Maybe it was the way he sought out a table, only settling for an empty one in the back. Or the way others looked on in feign pity. Whatever it was, perhaps an invitation to a place less formal would perk things up.

Pun intended

"I couldn't help but notices your stellar dance moves up there, with your daughter I presume?"

Jeb's eyes snapped up from their downward gaze while he suddenly tried to sit up a little straighter.

Mila gestured to the empty seat next to him, "anyone sitting here?"

"Yes! I mean no, no one's sitting there."

---

Jeb seemed to know quite a lot about politics though it never dawned on Mila to ask why. She couldn't recall how they got onto the subject, but the topic was how the hierarchy of the White House worked, o r something like that . All she understood was how he chuntered on about this guy being above another guy and thank GOD Jeb could read the smallest hint of infoxication on her face.

Shoulder sagging a little lower he suddenly realized what was happening, "I'm boring you aren't I? I'm so sorry."

The same deep blush that blossomed onto his cheeks earlier, was now making the blue in his eyes more prominent. Truth was, his little government lesson was actually quite endearing but Mila was enjoying his show of embarrassment too much to say so.

The ice in her drink made a soft clink once it met the surface of the table and Mila took the opportunity to turn and fully face Jeb, pressing her kneecaps into his outer right thigh. The sudden contact was clearly a surprise by the way he squirmed in his chair.

"Hey. This is my second one." Raising her eyebrows Mila held up a half empty glass of some milky looking drink, most likely to be eggnog. "And I'm thinking my third could be a bit more fun if you joined me at the after party."

Wether he was truly in awe over the invitation or surprised there was such a thing, Jeb quickly looked around in puzzlement. Leaning in as If prying ears were all around, he softly whispered, "they have after parties at these things?"

This should be an interesting night

---

"Here, hold still."

It had been surprisingly easy to get Jeb to wear her reindeer headband and had his nose been half as red as his cheeks, Jeb surly could pass as Rudolph. From his spot on the end of Mila's bed, Jeb sat slouched, while a sheepish grin covered his face.

Placing her right knee between Jeb spread legs, the body heat from her chest settled mere centimeters from his face. As she continued to fiddle with an imaginary fold Mila couldn't help the feeling of uncertainty that began to nest itself in the back of her mind. He hadn't made a move to touch her yet. In fact he hadn't made any type of move at all. Leaning back, Mila examined the work she never actually did.

"Look at you"

It was supposed to be a statement, an acknowledgment that by putting on the headband, he was humoring her, however, the sudden glint of pride in his eyes told Mila that it meant more to him.

Oh

Taking a step back, she threaded her fingers through the newly formed curls at the nape of his neck. "What would you do if I told you, ever since I saw those big hands wrap around your glass at the party, I've thought about what they'd feel like on me?"

Jebs eyes widened in surprise, "You...what? I mean...I...I would want to show you, I can show you!...please?"

Bringing her lips next to Jeb's ear, Mila whispered, "you can touch me Jeb."

A noise akin to a held breath being released flowed through Jebs nose as he tentatively placed his hands on her waist. It was as if he was deciding on the next step when the sudden feeling of weightlessness, quickly followed by her back meeting the mattress, pulled a squeak for Mila.

Throwing the headband somewhere off to the side, his hair was now a disheveled mess. There was something so pleasing about seeing Jeb In such a state. Removing her top and coming to rest on his left hand Jeb ran the fingers of his right from under her armpit to the side of her breast. Tracing the underside with his thumb he then brought his hand underneath them, continuing his path down her torso with fingers splayed. His touch sent a current through Mila that had been long since forgotten causing her back to arch into his touch.

Jeb was thankful for the elastic of Mila's skirt, the otherwise sturdy material very well may have ended up a torn piece of fabric atop the heap of clothing collecting on the floor. When his right hand finally reached the junction of Mila's thighs, her excitement was evident from the wetness he gathered on his pointer and middle finger.

"That's all you," Mila uttered as she watched his eyes light up in question then wonder.

"Really?"

The question came out as an incredulous huff. Thankfully, it hadn't stopped his fingers exploration.

Soft lips left a heated trail from under Mila’s ear to her collarbone, now bare after removing her bra. Finding her lips, Jeb’s danced upon hers between breathy moans. The sound was driving him absolutely insane.

“You're so beautiful.”

Now it was Mila’s turn to blush.

The rough tug of Jeb’s belt was a silent demand that he needed to lose the pants and as he began to pull them off his legs Mila grabbed his wrist.

“I need you now.”

“Oh…ok”

With his pants and boxers hanging mid thigh Jeb settled between her legs, guiding himself to her entrance. In one slow thrust, Jeb was buried to the hilt while a sudden stream of panic curses all but halted any further moments.

"Jeb! What's wrong?"

"Shit. I'm sorry. I'm sorry...I just...I haven't done this in awhile..." his once hooded eyelids were forcefully scrunched shut as Jeb tried to take in a deep breath. "It's been a long time since...and...I...you're just so tight."

Not quite there yet but she'd take that as a compliment.

His body shook in a desperate attempt of what could only be to restrain himself. Mila placed her hand on either side of his cheeks, waiting for his eyes to meet hers. "It's ok, you can let go."

Lowering himself where the only thing keeping his complete body weight off of her was his forearms, Jeb started a steady pace. As he began to fall into a comfortable rhythm his thrust picked up speed along with power. Head buried in her neck whimpers of you feel so good and thank yous flowed across Mila's skin.

Normally, Mila liked to draw out times like these, where the man knows he found the right spot by just her reactions and repeatedly hitting it at that exact same angle but tonight she only had the blinding need to cum. Whispering praises in his ears did just the trick.

A white, hot wave consumed Mila about the same time as Jebs thrust began to stutter and a guttural moan fell from his lips. Straightening his arms, Jeb settled back on his hands while keeping his hips flush with her.

“Can I hold you for a bit?” Jeb’s request sounded hesitant, his eyes now looked to be forming tears. Nodding her head, Mila replied with a quiet sure.

The light brush of the tip of Jebs nose tickled Mila’s shoulder blades but she couldn’t be brought to care as she sunk into the comfort of the muscular arms that were currently wrapped around her chest.

“Can we do this again? Sometime soon?”

Leaning her head back against his chest she looked up at him with warm green eyes.

“Sure. And this time Jeb Magruder, meet me under the mistletoe”