#soa preferences

[brunettemarionette]

𝐇𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐒 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐡𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮

☾‧₊˚ ⋅ ― female reader. no description of features. no mentions of size, race or age.

🇲​​🇦​​🇮​​🇳​ ​🇲​​🇦​​🇸​​🇹​​🇪​​🇷​​🇱​​🇮​​🇸​​🇹​ 💜​🇸​​🇴​​🇦​ ​🇲​​🇦​​🇸​​🇹​​🇪​​🇷​​🇱​​🇮​​🇸​​🇹​

𝗝𝗮𝘅 ☾‧₊˚ ⋅

Jax spots the guy leaning in too close to you, spouting off some pathetic attempt at a pickup line while tossing in a jab about “wannabe biker boys.” His lips twitch into a deadly smirk as he struts over, confidence oozing with every step.

“Hey, babe,” he says smoothly, wrapping an arm around your waist, his icy blue eyes locking on the clueless idiot. “This clown bothering you?”

When the guy stammers, Jax leans in, his voice dropping low. “Y’know, I’d think twice before badmouthing my club. Especially when I’m the President. But since you didn’t know…” He gives a sharp, humourless laugh. “You’ve got about three seconds to walk away before this gets messy.”

The guy practically trips over himself as he scurries off, and Jax turns back to you, flashing that charming grin. “You alright, darlin’? Let’s get outta here.”

𝗥𝗲𝗹𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗼����𝘀𝗵𝗶𝗽 𝗧𝗿𝗼𝗽𝗲𝘀:

Aggressively Supportive & Protective

𝗖𝗵𝗶𝗯𝘀 ☾‧₊˚ ⋅

Chibs doesn’t even bother hiding the cold steel in his gaze as he hears the man flirt with you, his Scottish accent turning sharp as glass when he interrupts.

“Yer sure talkin’ a big game for someone who doesn’t know whose girl he’s chattin’ up,” Chibs drawls, stepping between you and the idiot.

The guy scoffs, mentioning something about “bikers and daddy issues,” and that’s all it takes for Chibs’ deadly smirk to surface. “Aye, that’s cute. Now, I’ve got a wee bit of advice for ye: you leave now, or I’ll give ya somethin’ to cry about.”

The guy falters at the glint in Chibs’ eyes, backing off immediately. Once he’s gone, Chibs tilts his head toward you, his voice softening. “You good, love? Let’s grab a drink.”

𝗥𝗲𝗹𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻𝘀𝗵𝗶𝗽 𝗧𝗿𝗼𝗽𝗲𝘀:

Snarky Power Couple That Can, And Probably Will, Destroy You

𝗧𝗶𝗴  ☾‧₊˚ ⋅

Tig hears the guy’s comment about how “guys in leather are overcompensating” and loses it. He storms over, practically buzzing with energy, his wild eyes daring the guy to say another word.

“Excuse me? You got somethin’ to say about me, buddy?” Tig growls, his tone loud enough to make everyone turn and stare.

The guy freezes, trying to laugh it off, but Tig’s already in his face, pointing at you. “You see her? She’s with me. Me. So if you’re gonna keep running your mouth, you’d better hope you’re faster than I am. Spoiler alert: you’re not.”

The guy stammers out an apology and bolts, leaving Tig to turn back to you with a grin. “See that? Chased him off. No one messes with my girl.”

𝗥𝗲𝗹𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻𝘀𝗵𝗶𝗽 𝗧𝗿𝗼𝗽𝗲𝘀:

Thinks They're In Charge (Tig) x Is Actually In Charge (You)

𝗢𝗽𝗶𝗲 ☾‧₊˚ ⋅

Opie hears the guy call SAMCRO a “bunch of thugs” while shamelessly flirting with you. He clenches his fists, his jaw ticking as he approaches. He towers over the guy, his deep voice calm but dangerous.

“Got a problem with my club?” Opie asks, his sheer size and quiet intensity enough to make the guy gulp.

When the man stutters, Opie steps closer, his eyes like granite. “And you think hitting on my girl is a good idea? You’re either real stupid or looking for trouble.”

The guy quickly backpedals, muttering apologies as he slinks away. Opie watches him go, then turns to you with a small smile. “You alright? Let’s head out before I change my mind about letting him walk away.”

𝗥𝗲𝗹𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻𝘀𝗵𝗶𝗽 𝗧𝗿𝗼𝗽𝗲𝘀:

Home Is Wherever You Are

𝗛𝗮𝗽𝗽𝘆 ☾‧₊˚ ⋅

Happy doesn’t need to say much. The second he hears the guy say something about “bikers being all talk,” he strides over silently, his expression as unreadable as ever.

He steps between you and the guy, looking him up and down with cold, assessing eyes. “You like your teeth where they are?” Happy asks, his voice low and gravelly.

The guy blinks, confused, but the pure menace radiating off Happy is enough to make him reconsider whatever dumb thing he was about to say. “N-no problem, man. I was just leaving.”

Happy watches him go, then turns to you with a rare smirk. “You good? Let’s go.”

𝗥𝗲𝗹𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻𝘀𝗵𝗶𝗽 𝗧𝗿𝗼𝗽𝗲𝘀:

Unaware in public (you) x Overprotective in public (Happy)

𝗝𝘂𝗶𝗰𝗲 ☾‧₊˚ ⋅

Juice hears the guy call SAMCRO a “bunch of wannabes” while trying to charm you, and he immediately stiffens. He’s not the most intimidating at first glance, but the second he speaks, his tone is sharp.

“You might wanna rethink what you’re saying,” Juice says, stepping up beside you, his eyes narrowing. “That ‘wannabe’ club? That’s my family.”

The guy laughs nervously, trying to brush it off, but Juice isn’t backing down. “And her?” He points at you. “She’s my girl. So why don’t you take your crappy lines somewhere else before I make you regret opening your mouth?”

The guy stumbles over an apology before fleeing, and Juice exhales, turning back to you. “You okay? Let’s get out of here before I really lose it.”

𝗥𝗲𝗹𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻𝘀𝗵𝗶𝗽 𝗧𝗿𝗼𝗽𝗲𝘀:

You Fell First, But He Fell Harder

𝗧𝗵𝗲𝗺𝗲 𝗦𝗼𝗻𝗴

Bad Company by Five Finger Death Punch

[witchthewriter]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐥 𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐬/𝐨 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐛𝐞

⤷ gender neutral, ambiguous race, and any size reader. Requests are open, thank you for reading!    

a/n: all are sfw except for Tig’s, so minors ... don’t read Mr Trager’s part. Oh and swears

ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ    

𝑺𝑭𝑾🌿    

𝐉𝐚𝐱

・He loves dates outside. It doesn’t even have to be on the bike. You can take the car and he’ll have one hand on the steering wheel and the other on your thigh

・You never know when or where you’re going to stop. But it’s usually somewhere with a huge tree

・There’s a picnic blanket in the back, and when there isn’t, Jax lays out his jacket for you to sit down on 

・Jax always automatically lays his head in your lap and closes his eyes (but not before winking at you) 

・He isn’t falling asleep, only taking in the sun’s warmth and the softness of your thighs, basking in the feeling of contentedness 

・His ideal date is literally just spending time with you. Talking, not talking, joking around, delving deep... he just loves your personality. There’s no topic too outrageous or off-limits

・Jax would have your favourite drink; alcohol, energy drink, soda etc whatever you like. Alternatively, he would go through the drive through so that you can munch down together and look completely unattractive while tomato sauce drips down your chins 

・He doesn’t like restaurants because people are very judgemental, and he isn’t going to take off his cutte for anyone 

𝐎𝐩𝐢𝐞

・Didn’t really think about actual dates... you guys kinda just ... got into a relationship. 

・He didn’t need to woo you, he just knew who you were and wanted you

・It was the same with you; you knew Opie and wanted him. No frills, no dancing around the subject. 

・You were both very straightforward 

・But after being in a relationship for 6 months, you saw the other Sons’ relationships and brought it up with Opie - curiosity with how he would plan a date 

・He was a bit taken aback because he loves doing the mundane things with you; grocery shopping, bathing together, watching tv 

・But then he found this place, ax-throwing, and you were both so excited to go

・It ended up being one of your new favourite hobbies 

・And then the place had a separate section with a smashing section and GOD you two were there for hours

・It’s a weekly thing now 

・Even if the week hasn’t been too heavy, you still both want to go and let off some steam. Whether it’s because of something small ... or not 

𝐂𝐡𝐢𝐛𝐬

・Has dated a few women in his lifetime, but never loved one as much as Fiona. Until he met you. 

・You drew him in and he’s been loyal ever since; even on the road, with the crow-eaters, he’s never looked at anyone but you. 

・It may come as a surprise but Chibs is quite romantic. 

・Flowers, buying your favourite food, jewellery etc

・He knows that although it’s traditional, you still enjoy it. (And it’s not just roses and heart necklaces. He knows your favourite flowers and your taste in jewellery)

・You loved how he showered you with gifts, but you wanted to do something together 

・And that’s when you showed him brewery tours. 

・At first he didn’t like it (not a wine fan), but then you found one that was based on whiskey, rum - brown liquor, and he adored it 

・So basically his ideal date it getting drunk together?

・He also enjoyed going to a pub with you; it had the feeling of Scotland and Chibs was so excited to show you the similarities:

     “And that righ’ there sweetheart, all those pictures; they have ‘em in every pub back in Scotland-” 

𝐓𝐢𝐠 (NSFW! 18+!)

・Despises anything formal

・He doesn’t like the feeling of not being good enough to be in fancy places

・Plus, he just doesn’t think it’s “his style” 

・So a lot of your dates are spontaneous and always start on his bike (and ugh ... end in his bed) 

・Very sexual and cannot keep his hands off of you. Having alone time together is sparse since being apart of the club takes up most of his time

・Every night he gets to spend at home means a night full of love mak- okay it’s full of fucking. 

・Drive-ins are another of his favourite though

・When he was younger, he used to go when his home life got too rough. Some place to escape, and it was easier to sneak in than a movie theatre

・That’s where he likes to take you when you’v had a rough day. But he also has an extensive movie range. So when you can’t be bothered to go out, you just stay at home, snuggle up and have a movie marathon 

𝐇𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐲

・Something low-key but sentimental 

・Happy doesn’t have a lot of money, but it doesn’t stop him from creating a romantic atmosphere. 

・He’s one of the more emotionally charged Sons

・Not afraid to show his affection and love for you

・Happy first arrives by bike out the front with a bouquet of (stolen) flowers, a helmet for you and a backpack with drinks and food. 

・He takes you to ‘the look out’. It’s on the outskirts of Charming that overlooks the woods and houses below 

・He has a blanket, gives you his jacket and asks about your day while setting everything up

・You know he cares he’s put a lot of thought into it 

・Maybe it isn’t a fancy restaurant, and the food isn’t 5 stars, but you know that he put a lot of effort into it 

・On special occassions like being together for a certain amount of months/years. Happy will take on extra work/shifts so he can saved up a bit of money and take you somewhere fancy

・Not just a nice restaurant, but a hotel for a few nights. 

・When you enter the hotel room, he runs the bath for the two of you. Afterwards you order room service and have it sitting in bed, white robes on, watching a rom com (he lets you choose from ‘This Means War,’ ‘Mr & Mrs Smith’, ‘Pride & Prejudice’ or ‘Leap Year’)

𝐉𝐮𝐢𝐜𝐞

・A lot of thought is put into his dates. More so than the others

・You are the light of his life, and contrary to the others, you’re more important that the club

・So his ideal date foremost, is uninterrupted by a call from Clay

・With you and him taking a trip somewhere out of Charming, possibly near a beach or somewhere exotic

・See, Juice can be very romantic, once he gets over his nervousness around you (it took a year into your relationship for him not to stumble over his words. You thought he had a stutter, but it was because he’s so anxious about you leaving him)

・He packs everything; orderly and neatly. 

・Not forgetting anything of importance. If you take medication, than he has extra just in case, obviously extra pairs up underwear, because Juice too does that thing (you know what I’m talking about)

・Oh, and he wants everything to be a surprise. So he makes sure that your work has given you time off 

・And he has at least three of your favourite things; a book, a figet toy, a puzzle, a gameboy, whatever it is - he has it all ready for you while you’re waiting for your plane 

・Gives you the window seat, has ear plugs for you when you take off and land because of the pressure 

・If you’re a nervous flyer than he never leaves your side, holds your hand the entire time and 

[justanoasisimagines]

Sons of Anarchy; Big Spoon or Little Spoon

Hey lovelies, back with another Preference. My requests are open and you can find my request guidelines pinned to the top of the page! Credit to cafekitsune for the banner and the divider

Jax Teller; Big Spoon - Likes to curl himself around you, protecting you. He likes feeling your body pressed against yours.

Bobby Munson; Big spoon - Likes to hug you. Easy access to your neck, for some lazy kisses. Also always has his back to the door just in case.

Alexander "Tig" Trager; Switch - Tig is open about the things he likes and dislikes and he's proud to say sometimes he's the small spoon. He likes feeling your arms wrapped around him. Other times, he likes to know you're safe and protected.

Filip "Chibs" Telford; Big Spoon - Likes to hold you close. Likes the reassurance it gives him knowing you're safe and protected. Likes to have his body pressed against yours.

Clay Morrow; Big Spoon - Feels natural for him. Uses his body as a shield because he never knows when someone may attempt to attack. Also a good position to kiss your face and neck.

Harry "Opie" Winston; Switch - Sometimes Opie likes being the big spoon, wrapping his body around yours while he holds you tightly. Other times, Opie needs to be held. He needs to feel safe and that's in your arms. While Opie is aware of your differences.

Juan "Juice" Ortiz; Little Spoon - Juice likes to have your body pressed against his arms sprawled over his chest, legs entangled together, Juice's hands placed ontop of yours. Juice likes it when you whisper sweet nothings, kissing the side of his neck and head.

Happy Lowman; Big Spoon - Likes to have your body pressed as close as humanly possible, legs tangled. Your head laying on Happy's arm. Happy rests a hand under your nightwear for physical contact.

David Hale; Switch - The majoriy of the time, David's the big spoon. Enjoy's the position, especialy when he comes home late. However, when things are getting tough at the station, he needs to be held as he discusses what's going wrong at the station.

Herman Kozik; Big spoon - Likes the position and the physical contact. Shielding you from the world. Can run his hands up and down your body. Often will swing his leg over your body to draw you closer.

[ravennaortiz]

Love these!💜

Being Juice’s Old Lady would include…

- You two wouldn’t be this movie-like couple who had been highschool sweethearts or anything

- It all started pretty simple, you met at TM, where a friend brought you to a party but from there it went faster than you could have ever imagined

- Juice was head over heels for you, he could barely stop thinking about you for a minute. Luckily, it wouldn’t be much different for you

- After a bit over a year the two of you knew that what you had was special, and Juice asked you to marry him

- You married at the cottage with the club and your closest friends and family members and the day after your wedding you got your crow tattoo

- Your life together would be easy going and loving. Juice would tell you everything he could without putting you in danger. An agreement you both settled for after he came in the first time covered in blood that was certainly not his own

- Spending rainy Sundays cuddled up in bed, watching movies and eating junk food was one of your favourite guilty pleasures

- Juice would love to take you to club parties whenever you would agree to come, making everyone jealous by showing you off

- Though he would always make sure that you knew how much you actually meant to him, that he wouldn’t just want you as an arm candy

- He would bring you breakfast every time a run would take all night or pour you a bath after a long day 

- Juice would love your cooking! He had tried himself every now and then, but after terribly burned steaks and hard potatoes you two decided that cooking should probably remain your thing

- When you knew that Juice would have a long day at work or was too busy to take a break in time, you would sometimes bring over some home cooked food for the guys

- The other members, especially Chibs, would totally adore you. They would love your cooking and just in general what a sweet person you were

- Chibs always liked you best, also because he kept urging Juice on that very first party to finally get his ass up and talk to you

- Juice wanted to make sure you knew that you were the best thing that ever happened to him, which is why he surprised you to your first wedding anniversary with a tattoo of your name right above his heart

- You two would be loving and sweet with each other, yet neither of you would doubt the other’s strengh and that your partner would be there to have your back at any time

[secretlysamcro]

What are your thoughts and feelings on Tara, and also their relationship?

I know Jax was not perfect and he did some shity things but I feel Tara should have taken more accountability for the way her life went.

She was never all in so she shouldn’t have had a baby with him.

Jax gave her a couple of outs yet she stayed.

Like I feel she blamed Jax for her staying but she chose too.

And she knew how much the club and the guys meant to Jax but she looked down on them like shit on her shoe.

I hated her and kind wish she got killed earlier than she did.

Tara was not a good match for him.

Ha! Buckle up cause this is gonna be a long one.

First time I watched the show, 15/16 - no life experience no actual understanding of any fucking thing (even though I thought I knew it all) & when it came to SOA I literally watched it for Jax.

I liked how he looked, how he talked, fuck even how he walked. I would have backed JAX all fucking day, no matter what he did, who he killed, who he hurt I’ll forever be team Jax 🤭(I still do just with more of a level head now, I know right from wrong lol)

& with obsession comes jealousy, I hated Tara, couldn’t fucking stand her. Didn’t care what he did to her I just ??? Could not connect with her at all, I would physically roll my eyes whenever she appeared on the screen. (Sorry Tara lovers don’t drag me again I’m just being honest) & this happened for a while lol even when I rewatched AGAIN, same feelings.

Then, my latest rewatch the end of last year. Oh my god? I honestly think it’s cause I had a baby of my own by then, when it came to her wanting out for the boys etc omg I fucking understood it. I finally saw it from her perspective and it hit me I was like omg I’ve been blinded by my love for Jax this whole time I haven’t actually let myself understand her as a character AT ALL.

so NOW, an actual adult I fucking get it man. & yeah she may have gone around shit the wrong fucking way but overall she just wanted her babies safe (towards the end of the seasons anyway,)

He did give her many outs even before she got pregnant by him, married to him etc & your right she should have took them, but it made me think if it was me??? Would I have taken those outs??? Probably not, (but when I had babies - yes)

BUT love for Jax aside, I dunno if I think they were the right match either, but they had their cute times!!! and if they WERE I don’t think we got to see enough of it man, I now I WISH they showed us more of just them. Like their younger days etc. I know there’s tiny bits mentioned or like on their rap sheets they were both arrested together for drunk & disorderly behaviour and stuff but I think we didn’t get to SEE enough of that you know?

& I DO have a heart btw lol. The scene when he finds her? Ugh the acting by Charlie there is - chefs kiss. & such a sad fucking scene - I did cry lol.

So overall, NOW (ten+ years later lol), she’s aighttttt. Not one of my favourite characters but I get it. Still prefer Wendy tho (AFTER she got her shit together of course)

Thank you for these questions, they’re so fun to answer hehe 🤭🖤

[bellaxgiornata]

During my rewatch of SoA - I cannot decide which version of Jax I prefer more lol Long haired Jax or short...... its such a terrible dilemma to have hahah

No, but seriously!! This is a REAL dilemma!! It happens to me EVERY TIME I watch the series over! But it's more than just long or short hairstyles that I mull over, though I think I usually personally love the later season look with his slicked back hair. If you make a decision, I'd love to hear which one wins 🤣

But every rewatch for me goes like:

Ohhh, baby pretty boy Jax. He's still got this little sweetness to him with the long hair and little bit of scruff. He's so damn cute.

Then we get depressed, troubled Jax with the longer hair and longer beard and I get hooked on him (plus bonus brief man bun).

Short haired Jax is always such a dramatic shift for me, but after a moment, I'm always feeling that Jax. Cause he seems happier and more playful than all the other seasons, so I think that draws me to him.

But then we get the longer haired, slicked back, beefier Jax in the later seasons who is so troubled and so messed up that I just find him incredibly hot. So it always ends up my favorite version of his look--and probably of him in general. He's just so dark and off the rails and I just want to destroy that perfectly styled hair...

[im-just-a-mississippi-girl]

Love it!!

The guys reactions to accidently hurting you- SONS Version

Chibs- "You broke my toes" you stated as the nurse wheeled you out of x-ray. "All of them. Our wedding is tomorrow Filip you continued in a monotone voice. Chibs cringed as he took in what you were saying. "I'm sorry kitten. I only meant to surprise you with my dance moves....I should have taken my boots off" he apologized as he knelt next to you and kissed your hand.

Halfsack- He has apologized a half dozen times as he presses the bag of frozen peas to your left cheek. He had only wanted to show you some self defense techniques like you had asked. He had not expected you to step forward when he swung at you while he was explaining how to duck. The sound of his fist hitting your soft skin almost made him vomit as the scene replayed for him. "I took that hit well I think" you murmured as you wiped away the last remaining tears making him snort. "You did cry less than most of people I hit" he joked as he kissed your forehead.

Happy- "So sorry baby girl" murmured Happy as he fed you ice cream in bed. "Its okay. Was an accident" you replied as you offered him a sincere smile. Your tough biker had taken your injury harder than you. The ribbing from the rets of the club had not helped either. "Should have explained the kickback better. Hell should not have let you try that gun. No need. Just thought you looked hot with it in your hands" ranted Happy before you cut him off with a kiss.

Jax- The silence as you made your way slowly through the clubhouse is honestly loud. Rolling your eyes you see Jax sitting at the head of the table alone. "I am going to start therapy and anger management classes" he stated when he saw you leaning against the door frame. "Yeah, good call. I know you were going for Happy. Weak as tables fault for collapsing under all our weight" you tried to joke. "Good news nothing broken on me at least. Bad news you fucked my crow tattoo up"

Juice-What was suppose to be tipsy, sexy time turned into tipsy where is our medical supplies quickly. He is beside himself as he holds gauze to your ass cheek. Your attempts at humor were not helping the guilt train he had himself on. "Baby, I'm good its not even bleeding" you laugh as you try and turn over on his lap but he keeps you firmly face down. Sighing you stop trying to move. "Juice it was a belt buckle. Not like you stabbed me or meant to do it. Can we please get back to what we were doing?" you pleaded as he mumbled sorry again.

Kozik- Sitting by your bedside he is somber. He cant help but replay the crash over and over again. Trying to decide what he could have done different. What if he hadn't grabbed your arm? Would you have been fine or would you have sailed over the side of the cliff? Was he going to fast? Should he have expected the drunk driver to be coming at you guys around the blind curve? "I'm sorry" he murmurs again as he kisses your hand. The doctors said you will be fine but he's not sure if he will.

Opie- He is beside himself, after the loss of Donna he cant believe he has love. He cant even bring himself to get on the ambulance and his phone call to Jax has the whole club screeching to a stop in front your house. "I killed her" he sobs as Jax kneels next to him. "She asked me to buy a step stool and I was like I'm a step stool. Lifted her up and lost my grip and she hit her head. Before Jax can say anything a paramedic is hovering. "Sir, your wife is demanding you get in the ambulance. She said and I quote stop acting like a blubbering mess or she will give you a reason to act like this."

Ratboy-He cant believe how dumb he was. Has suggested you break up with him a couple times as he carries you down the mountain the two of you had been hiking. You can walk and are fine. Its bruised and scraped knees not broken bones you had told him. "I'm sorry for proposing to you" he blurts out once you guys are at the car. "I mean I love you and want you forever but like for how I did it" he adds as you glare up at him.

Tig- "Well we all learned something today. There is a reason you use certain candles for wax play. Don't go cheap or you end up in the ER" stated Tig with a chuckle as he helped you onto your bed. Careful not to brush the burns on your back and hips. A low growl and the middle finger is all you offered your old man. Tig swallowed hard and sighed. "One day we will look back on tonight and laugh" he tried again as he squeezed one of your butt cheeks playfully. "Go away" you demanded.

Return to Headcanon Masterlist

[olderthannetfic]

Random gush about the Art of the Crackship... i feel like theres a linearly measurable Point in any particular fandom where i start to prefer Crack-taken-seriously over "obvious" ships and fanfic premises Completely. Its like YEAH okay the so and soa probably kissed in between those scenes, yes of course those are the general type of jobs theyd have in a modern au Fair Enough Observation of their Traits.... but can we please start playing Fandom Wipeout trying to run through the trials and tribulations it would take to get the Primary Big Bad and some joe shmoe tertiary side character to have a compelling love affair within the context of their original universe? Its so much fun. Its like putting a huge puzzle of teeeny tiny little pieces together, painstakingly with love and care with the intention to frame it once it's done. The downside being this metaphor is perfect in that puzzles are not Known for being a favorite past time for most people 8"] there's also 100% something to be said for how Powerful it feels to be the Only person posting art and fics for a particular ship. This city is ramshackle and abandoned and it is Mine. King of my pile of lovely dirt 💙

--

[brunettemarionette]

𝐇𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐚 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐞

☾‧₊˚ ⋅ ― female reader. no description of features. no mentions of size, race or age. Requests are open.

🇲​​🇦​​🇮​​🇳​ ​🇲​​🇦​​🇸​​🇹​​🇪​​🇷​​🇱​​🇮​​🇸​​🇹​ 💜​🇸​​🇴​​🇦​ ​🇲​​🇦​​🇸​​🇹​​🇪​​🇷​​🇱​​🇮​​🇸​​🇹​

𝗝𝗮𝘅 ☾‧₊˚ ⋅

Jax wakes up immediately when he hears you cry out, his protective instincts kicking in. He gently shakes you awake, his voice soft but firm. “Hey, babe, it’s just a dream. I’ve got you.”

He pulls you into his arms, tucking your head against his chest as he strokes your hair. He whispers reassurances, letting you hear his steady heartbeat to calm you.

If you’re still shaky, he’ll sit up with you, lighting a cigarette and holding your hand while he talks about anything to distract you from the nightmare. His presence is warm and grounding, and he won’t leave your side until you fall asleep again.

𝗖𝗵𝗶𝗯𝘀 ☾‧₊˚ ⋅

Chibs reacts calmly, and his experience with danger helps him keep a level head. When he wakes to your cries, he softly calls your name, cupping your face in his hands. “It’s alright, lass. I’m here. Whatever it was, it’s gone now.”

He kisses your forehead and wraps you in a snug embrace, rocking you slightly to soothe your nerves. His Scottish brogue is a constant comfort as he murmurs sweet nothings and cracks a gentle joke to lighten the mood.

If you want to talk about the dream, he listens intently, offering his wisdom and reassurance.

𝗧𝗶𝗴  ☾‧₊˚ ⋅

Tig wakes up startled, his eyes darting around the room like he’s expecting a threat. Once he realizes it’s just a nightmare, he turns all his attention to you. “Damn, doll, you scared the hell outta me. Come here.”

He pulls you close, wrapping you up in his arms. He might tease you a little to make you laugh, but it’s always affectionate. “What’s this nightmare got on my crazy ass, huh?” His voice softens as he kisses your temple and strokes your back, humming a tune or telling you one of his wild stories to distract you.

He stays awake as long as you need him to, rubbing your back until you feel safe enough to fall asleep again.

𝗢𝗽𝗶𝗲 ☾‧₊˚ ⋅

Opie’s a light sleeper, so he’s already awake the moment you stir. When he hears you crying or screaming, he gently shakes your shoulder, his deep voice soothing. Hey, I’m right here. You’re safe.”

He holds you close, his large hands stroking your back as he lets you cry into his chest if you need to. He doesn’t push you to talk but lets you know he’s ready to listen if you want to share.

His presence is solid and steady, like a rock in a storm. He might hum a soft tune or tell you about a memory that makes him smile just to pull you out of the dark headspace. He won’t let go of you until you’re peacefully asleep again.

𝗛𝗮𝗽𝗽𝘆 ☾‧₊˚ ⋅

Happy wakes up instantly, his instincts on high alert, his hand reaching for a weapon when he realizes you’re having a nightmare; he doesn’t say much at first, just gently shaking you awake and pulling you into his chest.

“It’s okay. I’ve got you.” He holds you close, his hands running soothing patterns along your back. His silence is comforting, letting his steady presence speak louder than words.

If you’re still trembling, he’ll sit up with you and offer to make you a drink or wrap you in his hoodie to make you feel safe. He doesn’t push for details, but he’ll reassure you as many times as you need.

𝗝𝘂𝗶𝗰𝗲 ☾‧₊˚ ⋅

Juice wakes up in a panic when he hears you screaming, fumbling to turn on the light. “Babe! Are you okay? What happened?”

Once he realizes it was a nightmare, he calms down and pulls you into his lap, cradling you like you’re the most precious thing in the world. He strokes your hair and kisses the top of your head, his voice soft and full of concern. “Whatever it was, it’s gone. Won’t let anything hurt you.”

Juice will stay up with you, offering to watch something funny or play soft music to distract you. He’s incredibly attentive, making sure you feel loved and safe until you can drift off again.

[abernathyvalois]

I just finished circe by madeline miller & i have complicated feelings about it

hmmm guys tell me what you’re reading at the moment and your thoughts on it. or tell me about a recent book you really loved. Or any book. Plz

[mysticalmallard]

Brother To Brother

Word count: 686

Description: Opie is falling for a waitress and he feels guilty about it and seeks advice from Jax. Part 3 of the opie and the waitress mini series.

SoA Taglist: @arkytiorlecter @aimkatsz @ravennaortiz @darqchilddaydreamz

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

Parts:

1 • 2 • 3 • 4 • 5 • 6 •

SoA Masterlist ♥︎ Main Masterlist ♥︎ Series Masterlist

Opie was never good with words, more of a man of action as they said. So when it came to his emotions he preferred to stuff them deep down where they wouldn't bother him.

But this was different. Something about her just got under his skin.

He walked across the mechanic shop to his best friend- brother, Jax Teller.

"Hey Jax, can I ask you something?"Jax looks up from the engine he was currently working on and turns to him with a bemused expression.

"Yeah, what's up, Ope?"

Opie takes a deep breath and shoves his hands in his pockets.

"I have a question. And I need you to be serious and not laugh, alright?"Jax stands up straight and wipes his hands on a rag, his curiosity piqued.

"Alright mate, I promise I won't laugh," he replies, his expression now serious.

Opie ran a hand through his hair, looking around to make sure no one else was close enough to hear them.

"I think I'm falling for someone," he said quietly, his eyes fixed on the garage floor.

Jax raised an eyebrow, not expecting that.

"Falling for someone, huh?" he says, crossing his arms. "And who might this 'someone' be?"

"A waitress at the cafe on the outskirts of town," Opie mutters, a slight blush coloring his cheeks. "Ever since I went there I can't stop thinking about her."

Jax lets out a low whistle.

"Wow, the waitress at the cafe huh?" he repeats. "You've got it pretty bad, don't you, brother?"

Opie scowls at him, his usual bravado faltering.

"Shut up, man. I'm being serious. I have no idea what to do," he says, the corners of his mouth turning down into a frown.

Jax chuckles and pats his shoulder.

"Calm down, Ope. I'm just messing with you." He grins at his friend. "So, tell me about this waitress. What's she like?"

Opie's frown turned back up into a shy smile.

"She's...perfect," he said, leaning against a desk. "She's sweet, funny, and gorgeous. And she's got these brown eyes that just...I don't know how to explain it. You'd have to see 'em for yourself."

Jax smiles, noticing the dreamy expression on his friend's face.

"Sounds like you really do have it bad," he teases. "But seriously, if you like her so much, why don't you just ask her out?"

"The kids..Donna...Donna has only been...gone...for a year and now I'm....I don't know man...it's too soon right?"Jax's expression softened, understanding the guilt Opie felt.

"Ope, you can't think like that," he said gently. "You're allowed to move on and be happy again. Donna would want that for you."

Opie nods, his chin dropping to his chest.

"I know you're right," he says quietly. "But I can't help feeling guilty. Like I'm betraying her memory or something."

Jax lays a hand on his shoulder, his voice firm.

"You're not betraying her memory. What happened to her was tragic, but you can't let it define the rest of your life. You deserve to be happy again, brother."

Opie looks up at his best friend, appreciating his support.

"Thanks, Jax," he says, his voice thick with emotion. "I just can't shake this feeling of guilt. Like I'm doing something wrong by even thinking about another girl."

Jax shakes his head, his grip on Opie's shoulder tightening.

"You're allowed to have feelings, man," he says firmly. "And it's not wrong for you to have feelings for someone else. Everyone moves on at their own speed, and that's okay."

Opie takes a deep breath, trying to absorb Jax's words.

"I know. I just need to let go of this guilt. It feels like I'm trapped in my head, you know?"Jax nods, his expression understanding.

"I get it, Ope. But trust me, letting go of that guilt will be the best thing you can do for yourself. You deserve to be happy, and if this waitress makes you happy, then you should go for it."

Opie manages a small smile, feeling a sense of relief wash over him.

"Maybe you're right, Jax," he says. "Maybe I need to just take a chance and see where it leads."

[imninahchan]

⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ ˖˙ ᰋ ── part II. Διόνυσος

⠀⠀ ⠀⌜ 𝔖𝔢𝔫𝔞𝔱𝔲𝔰 𝔠𝔬𝔫𝔰𝔲𝔩𝔱𝔲𝔪 𝔡𝔢 𝔅𝔞𝔠𝔠𝔥𝔞𝔫𝔞𝔩𝔦𝔟𝔲𝔰 𝔑𝔢𝔮𝔲𝔦𝔰 𝔢𝔬𝔯𝔲𝔪 ⌝

⠀⠀ Em 186 a.c, os cônsules Quinto Márcio e Espúrio Postúmio proibiram em toda República Romana os rituais delirantes ao deus Baco devido à desordem e aos escândalos.

﹙ ʚɞ˚ ﹚ 𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐒𝐎𝐒: swann!dionísio, mitologia greco-romana, bebida alcóolica (bebam com moderação), literatura erótica (sexo sem proteção mas se protejam na vida real, dirty talk, lingerie, dumbification, um tapinha). Estou adorando escrever esses especiais porque posso ficar pesquisando horas sobre os cultos aos deuses e ficar colocando referências igual easter egg da marvel.

⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀.⸙

⠀⠀

𝐃𝐄𝐏𝐎𝐈𝐒 𝐃𝐎 𝐓𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐑𝐎, você aceita prolongar o encontro na casa dele. O apartamento é espaçoso, bem decorado. Honestamente, se depara com mais cores do que esperava. Diversas almofadas, mantas e tapetes fazem com que a sala de estar conjugada se mostre convidativa, aconchegante. Quadros se espalham pelas paredes, e embora o tamanho varie, todos refletem a mesma estética renascentista.

Ele retira o seu casaco, pendura junto a bolsa no cabideiro próximo à porta, cortês. Os seus olhos correm pelo cômodo e se interessam na adega intimista à frente. As garrafas se acumulam nos expositores, ocupam uma parede toda num tom de madeira que se aproxima ao dourado. Parece que está diante de um baú recheado com joias e és um pirata que, finalmente, encontra sua fortuna. Quer beber um?, a voz dele soa suave por cima dos seus ombros, pode escolher qualquer um. “Qualquer um?”, você repete, e mais uma vez ouvindo outra resposta positiva, pende a cabeça para estabelecer contato visual. Se senta no divã, o olhar afiado, “Então, eu quero o melhor, o mais caro.” 

O homem sorri, brevemente, a audácia banha até as suas palavras, o seu tom. Mas caminha até as prateleiras, abre a porta de vidro que sela a repartição e busca por uma garrafa em específico. Recolhe, também, a taça cristalina destinada àquele sabor. Você sente falta de autenticação no frasco, não há nomes, datas, desenhos. Nem mesmo consegue flagrar a coloração do líquido por causa do recipiente escuro. É somente quando te é servida a bebida que pode notar pigmentação levemente rosada. “Este é bastante especial, o último”, te diz antes de deixar a garrafa na mesinha de centro e acomodar-se no sofá adjacente, “Chama-se néctar dos deuses.”

O nome te faz erguer o nariz, metida. “E o que acontece se eu beber?”, pergunta, a taça próxima à boca, “Viro uma deusa, ou algo assim?”

“Não, infelizmente”, ele responde, “Mas é o mais perto que vai chegar do divino.”

A borda fria toca seus lábios, e o líquido desce mais cálido garganta adentro. Doce, de fato, semelhante à substância que ele mencionou. Só que existe um quê a mais, um certo je ne sais quoi que você não consegue definir. Capta um agridoce, ao fim da degustação, uma herança porosa à textura. O aroma, quando inspira, te lembra o frescor de jardins abertos, talvez os campos elísios nos quais os poetas descansam. Algo em ti se transforma depois do gole. “Não vai beber?”, questiona-o.

O homem saca dos bolsos da calça um maço de cigarro e um isqueiro. Guarda o maço sobre a mesinha enquanto o pito se isola entre os lábios. Risco o isqueiro, acende. É só a pós o primeiro trago, a primeira bufada de fumaça para cima que a voz mansa retorna pros seus ouvidos, “Gostei da peça hoje”.

Você não se incomoda com a pergunta ignorada, mantém os olhos de predadora sob o corpo magro no sofá. No movimento dos dedos amassando os fios grisalhos quando correm pelo comprimento. Na postura relaxada, como se oferecesse o colo. Fala calmo, escolhe termos bonitos de ouvir, cujos significados passam longe do seu raciocínio porque prefere perder-se na aura pegajosa dele. E não é nem de longe exagero dizer que nenhum mísero fio de pensamento se constrói na sua cabeça. Swann tem dessas coisas, não? Ele tira, mesmo que inconscientemente, bagunça o seu tino, te revela uma bacante de guirlanda de hera e tirso nas mãos; furiosa e primitiva. Sente uma intensa repulsa por não possuí-lo, por vê-lo interagir com outros senão você mesma. Chama pelos seus instintos selvagens, a doce vontade de comer acima de qualquer juízo. É o vinho que estava na sua taça e esquentou a goela. Dos quais as propriedades se misturam às entranhas e denunciam o calor que te incendeia desde a primeira vez que colocou os olhos nele.

Jamais desejou alguém com tamanha urgência. Por mais entretida que pudesse ficar com a ladainha sobre artes, não se permite desfrutar do assunto pois te é mais divertido pensar no quão prazeroso seria foder com ele aqui e agora.

Sem pensar duas vezes, ergue e repousa a perna no encosto do divã.

“E é legal pensar que...”, ele pausa no meio da cena, ao visualizar as suas pernas espaçadas. Traga mais uma vez, expulsa a fumaça. A barra do seu vestido se embola, é possível ver, agora, a cinta liga se conectando as meias 7/8. Não sorri, porém o olhar sério não é repreensivo, pelo contrário, a aparente indiferença te excita. “Tem algo por baixo desse vestido que queira me mostrar?”

“Se vier aqui e tirá-lo, vai poder ver.”

O cigarro é apagado no cinzeiro. Swann se levanta do sofá e caminha até o divã. Tem delicadeza para beijar as costas das suas mãos e te erguer, mas lhe falta fineza ao agarrar a sua cintura e te colocar de costas. O vestido cai fácil, expõe as curvas delineado pelo conjunto rendado. Deixa um beijo no seu ombro, “estava guardando isso tudo pra quando?”

“Pra quando cala-se a boca e me comesse”, se vira de volta para ele.

Swann sorri, “Não escutou uma palavra que eu disse, escutou?”, sussurra pertinho do seu rosto. Não, você nega em outro sussurro. Ao passo que ele mesmo desabotoa a camisa, os seus dedinhos nervosos desafivelam o cinto, se preocupando em despi-lo da cintura pra baixo. “Pensei que tivesse um pouco de cérebro”, faz questão de estar com a ponta do nariz relando na sua bochecha enquanto fala, com charme, o indicador apontando na sua têmpora, “mas é tão morta aqui dentro quanto todas as outras putas.”

“O que eu posso fazer quando tudo que me faz pensar é no quanto quero que me coma?”

“É?”, o sorriso aumenta. Cata as suas mãos no ar antes que possa tocar na nudez masculina, “Quero te ouvir você pedindo, então.”

“Já não demonstrei que quero o suficiente?”, não o olha nos olhos, mas nos lábios, sedenta.

O toque áspero da mão pegando o seu maxilar te faz arfar, “Quero ouvir você pedindo”, demanda, “Quero que diga exatamente o que quer que aconteça aqui, de joelhos. Só concedo o que me é pedido.”

Você, então, se ajoelha. Se apoia com as mãos nas coxas dele, os olhinhos parecendo duas vezes maiores, pedintes, nesse ângulo. A atenção se alterna entre a vontade de encará-lo e a concentração roubada pela ereção pulsante a poucos centímetro do seu rosto. “Quero você”, diz de início, “Quero que foda cada partezinha do meu corpo, até que não consiga mais levantar, ou que sinta doer... Quer que eu seja mais específica?”, a sua ousadia conhece o pesa da mão dele na sua nuca, quero que peça por favor, e, por isso, você pede, sem rodeios, “Por favor, me come.”

O ego masculino se satisfaz com o seu apelo. Deita as costas no encosto do divã, te convida para o colo, “Obedece bem”, as mãos circulam o seu quadril, “agora merece se foder até não aguentar mais, não é isso, meu amor?”

Você tem fome, ânsia, mal escuta o que ele te murmura, assim que pode escorregar tudo pra dentro, se empala e movimenta-se de imediato. Os olhos cerram, a boca entreabrindo, ofegante nas primeiras sentadas. Arranha as unhas nos ombros dele, os gemidos soam mais altos que a orquestra do seu corpo se chocando ao dele. É só com o estalo do tapa na sua bunda que o seu compasso diminui, arfando, tonta de tesão. “Tão estúpida que nem consegue manter um ritmo, hm?”, ele continua falando, totalmente dono de si e da situação. “O que foi, ahm?”, ainda tenta acompanhar o seu rosto perdido, a cabeça pendendo de um lado pro outro, molinha. “O quê? Não sabe montar? Quer que eu te ensine?”, sorri, “Melhor: quer que eu te pegue pra foder, pra que possa deitar aqui e apenas ficar paradinha recebendo a quantidade de pica que tanto sonhou?”, e agora um sorriso domina a sua face, “É isso que quer, não é?”

A mão ocupa o seu pescoço, é o impulso firme necessário pra que te tombe sobre o estofado. A boca não abandona a sua, coladas o caminho todo até as posições se inverterem. Te beija, sorri contra os seus lábios, devasso. A experiência aguda o faz ajeitar uma almofada na altura do seu cóccix antes de começar a meter. Tem velocidade e segurança, te acerta por dentro de modo que apaga de vez a mente.

Está domada, completamente levada pelo prazer que te é proporcionado. Os olhinhos revirados encontram a beleza classicista dos detalhes no teto. As bordas douradas em arabesco limitando um mural colorido: o cortejo feminino e bêbado, a nudez regada às videiras e as jarras douradas espalhando vinho pelo percurso. Centralizado, o deus roga por seus súditos e pelos crimes rituais que cometeram em prece. Vê, nos olhos esbugalhados da corte, a insanidade de se entregar ao festim. Geme, arranhando a nuca do homem, puxando os cabelos dele entre os dedos. Se provar da loucura também, se ganhar o néctar divino na pontinha da língua, jorrando quente e libertino, será que amanhã ainda vai se lembrar que fez parte do brado báquico?

⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ 𝔑𝔢𝔮𝔲𝔦𝔰 𝔢𝔬𝔯𝔲𝔪 [𝔅]𝔞𝔠𝔠𝔥𝔞𝔫𝔞𝔩 𝔥𝔞𝔟𝔲𝔦𝔰𝔰𝔢 𝔳𝔢𝔩𝔩𝔢𝔱.

[yakuly]

𝐒𝐮𝐫𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐚 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐝𝐚

[ 𝐅𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐚𝐥𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐨 ]

𝘽𝙖𝙣𝙜 𝘾𝙝𝙖𝙣 𝙭 𝙇𝙚𝙞𝙩𝙤𝙧𝙖

𝙋𝙖𝙡𝙖𝙫𝙧𝙖𝙨: 2.961

𝘼𝙫𝙞𝙨𝙤𝙨: Mask kink; tentativa de suspense; sexo desprotegido (pessoas gostosas usam camisinha!); sexo no espelho; palavrão; sexo explícito;

𝙉/𝘼: Olá! Caso você tenha caído de paraquedas por aqui, esse é um imagine de final alternativo para esse imagine aqui! Antes que você prossiga preciso informar: esse geralmente não é meu gênero de escrita, porém resolvi tentar, pois acredito que também se encaixa na história. Então peguem leve, por favor! 😅

01° de outubro, e para Christopher Bang isso significa apenas uma coisa: uma namorada feliz e levemente assustadora. Outubro é simplesmente seu mês favorito do ano todo, trazendo consigo as melhores temperaturas, as melhores atividades, as melhores maratonas de filmes, e claro, o arrepio na nuca do terror e do horror do halloween.

Uma das primeiras coisas que Chris aprendeu sobre – e amar – você foi a sua paixão pela época do ano, tratando a festividade quase como um feriado religioso. Todo final de setembro você começa a preparar um planner bem detalhado e recheado para outubro, e claro, maratona de filmes clássicos estão sempre presentes, independente da ordem.

Como um bom namorado, Christopher sabe exatamente qual a sua franquia de filmes favorita: "Pânico". Mais especificamente, o primeiro, lançado em 1996. Quando te perguntou em um dia qualquer, o rapaz não esperava ver seus olhos brilharem tanto, com tanta animação que o pegou desprevenido.

"Meu Deus, esse filme é o melhor! Olha, eu sei que muita gente prefere os outros, mas esse é um clássico dos clássicos! Os primeiros ghostfaces, as falas icônicas, a Sydney..."

Chris percebeu também a sua paixão pelo assassino mascarado. Não somente pelos personagens Billy e Stu, mas pela figura mascarada. Ele não conseguia ignorar como sua respiração ficava descompassada sempre que ele entra em cena, pronto para levar a vida de um personagem; ou omodo como você acabava por esfregar uma cona ma outro, pendendo a cabeça para o lado, no que pareciam ser suas cenas favoritas.

E apesar do seu interesse fictício ser um pouco incomum, seu namorado Christopher que te ama tanto quer fazer uma bela surpresa de Halloween!

...

É uma sexta-feira qualquer na sua vida, seguindo rigorosamente seu planejamento mensal, com um balde de pipoca e sua franquia de filmes favorita, mas sem seu namorado, que precisou cancelar a noite do filme pois tinha uma reunião muito importante na JYPE. Uma pena mesmo!

"Quem foi o assassino no primeiro ato?" Você assiste a voz mascarada perguntar à personagem da Jena Ortega. "Billy Loomis!" No momento em que a garota diz ao telefone você rola os olhos colocando mais pipoca na boca.

"Ah, desculpa Tara, mas não está certo..." Absorta na cena você repete as falas junto ao assassino "A resposta certa é Billy Loomis e Stu Macher. São dois assassinos no ato original"

— Viu? Se não tivesse esquecido do Stu você não morreria, vadia burra!

Infelizmente seu telefone começa a tocar, mas no identificador consta apenas um número desconhecido que você ignora. 1 vez... 2 vezes... 3 vezes, até você atender frustrada com a interrupção.

— Alô? — atende passando o filme. Nos primeiros segundos só consegue ouvir uma respiração abafada, então decide desligar, mas a voz se manifesta do outro lado da linha.

"Olá S/n." a voz abafada soa arrastada, e um arrepio sobe a sua espinha. Você olha novamente a identificação apenas para encontrar as palavras "número desconhecido" brilhando.

— Quem é você? —pergunta obviamente confusa, e já deixando o pote de pipocas de lado.

"Alguém que te conhece muito, muito bem"

Seu coração começa a bater mais forte e rápido. Você tenta se recordar se viu alguma notícia de morte suspeita, mas nada, e apesar de seu consciente começar a brigar com você mesma, não consegue deixar de lado o pensamento de que finalmente um louco da cabeça resolveu trazer Pânico para a vida real, e escolheu logo você como sua primeira vítima.

— Você acha que eu vou cair nessa brincadeirinha? Uma cópia mal feita do filme...— Você tenta soar o mais confiante possível, apesar de já estar duvidando da realidade.

"Tudo bem, vamos brincar de verdade ou verdade..." a voz diz, e você se agarra ao telefone, enquanto a imagem congelada do próprio ghostface te encara no filme pausado. "Eu falo um fato sobre você, e você me confirma se é verdade, certo?"

— T-tudo bem...

"É verdade que você ama Halloween" a primeira pergunta é feita, e você demora um pouquinho de tempo para responder, deixando a pessoa estranha impaciente "Responde S/n, é verdade?"

— Sim...é sim.

"Ótimo. Próxima pergunta...é verdade que você ama os filmes de Pânico?" Dessa vez você confirma mais rápido, e o outro lado da linha parece bem satisfeito. Você sente seu coração bater mais rápido a cada segundo que passa, assim como sua respiração, e você tenta ao máximo não deixar transparecer, ao mesmo tempo que decide se deve olhar na janela ou não. "Você está indo bem...é verdade que você tem um namorado?"

— Sim, é verdade...o-o que você quer com ele?

"É verdade que seu namorado faria de tudo por você?" Meu Deus, o que essa pessoa tem com Chris?! Você confirma pensando no seu namorado perfeito e no quanto você o ama. "Lembre-se disso, pimpolho." E com isso a ligação é encerrada.

Pimpolho? As únicas pessoas que te chamavam assim eram seus pais até os seus 12 anos, e nunca mais ninguém soube disso...A não ser...Christopher. poderia Bang Chan estar por trás disso?

A sua mente gira em círculos tentando entender o que está acontecendo, quando um vulto surge no seu corredor entre as escadas e a sala, sendo iluminado pela luz da cozinha. A primeira coisa que você vê é a máscara de ghostface te encarando, mas ao invés da capa e luvas, era uma roupa e um corpo que você reconheceria em qualquer lugar. Calças pretas justas, e a camisa preta que você o presenteou, que felizmente era incrivelmente justa ao corpo, com um coração vermelho se derramando no peito.

Você finalmente entende. Seu namorado perfeito armou um jeito de ser o seu ghostface no seu mês favorito, do melhor jeito possível. E de repente, o nervosismo se tornou excitação, e você estava pronta para pular nele. Bang Chan do lado mascarado, lê o seu comportamento corporal, percebendo que você entendeu o que estava acontecendo, observando como seus olhos o devoravam, como a sua cabeça pendeu levemente pro lado, e você passou a morder seu lábio. Excelente! O plano deu certo!

Os dois se encaram por longos segundos, enquanto um sorriso malicioso surge no canto do seu lábio, enquanto Chris faz o movimento de cabeça igual ao do personagem cinematográfico. Você se levanta do sofá, e anda lentamente, se aproximando do rapaz, aproveitando para movimentar bem os quadris no ato.

— Então, você me me ligou...— não é uma pergunta, apenas uma estatação da situação, que é confirmada por ele — eu tenho um namorado, sabia?! — você argumenta tentando ser convincente, mas piscando "inocentemente" para a máscara impassível — mas você não se importa, não é? — é como resposta o homem nega com a cabeça. Sorrindo, você repete uma das cenas icônicas do filme: — Você quer brincar de assassino psicopata? — Chris confirma com a cabeça, e você continua, fazendo uma voz falsa de vitima de filme — tá, tudo bem... por favor não me mate Sr. Ghostface! Eu quero estar na sequência!

Sorrindo você tenta passar pelo corpo do rapaz, acreditando que ele iria te seguir, mas ele te pega de surpresa, te pressionando na parede do corredor, com a mão firme em seu pescoço, pressionando no local certo para arrancar o ar dos seus pulmões, te fazendo revirar os olhos.

— Que tal uma brincadeirinha diferente? — Abafada pela máscara a voz de Christopher fica aindamais atraente, e o fato do rosto do homem estar tão próximo do seu não ajudava em nada na sua excitação. Perdida em pensamentos impuros e ávidos para as brincadeiras de verdade, você demora va entender que ele tinha começado a contar, e então precisou de um esforço maior para perceber que você precisava correr e se esconder.

...5... A escada que liga os andares do casa pareciam ter dobrado de quantidade, e mesmo subindo 2 de cada vez, eles pareciam não ter fim ...

...4... você só tem duas opções para se esconder : seu banheiro, ou seu quarto. Ambas as portas te encaram, mas você não consegue se decidir qual a melhor opção...

...3... ao olhar o banheiro, seu cérebro tenta enlistar os possíveis lugares para se esconder, mas apesar da falta de luminosidade, você não tem muitas opções...

...2... tem o gabinete embaixo da pia, mas você não cabe, já que ele é pequeno de mais, e ir para atrás da cortina da banheira, é a ideia mais ridículo do mundo! Então você só tem uma opção...

...1... tudo bem, você conseguiu chegar a tempo no quarto! Está tido sob controle, você ainda tem tempo! Mas onde se esconder? Embaixo da cama? Dentro do armário? Atrás do guarda roupa?

É o momento em que você percebe que o andar de baixo está muito silencioso. O mascarado não estava mais contando e você não ouvia passos. Tentando raciocinar o que pode ter acontecido, seus olhos se movem pelo quarto, até pararem na janela, que no momento também parecia um espelho, mostrando a figura de preto logo atrás de você.

— Por favor...— Você súplica se virando de frente para ele, e as mãos do rapaz vão direto para seu pescoço novamente, te fazendo revirar os olhos. Tentando continuar no teatro, e não demonstrar o quão excitada está, usa a sua voz mãos desesperada, segurando o braço que te segurava. — eu faço o que quiser...

— Ah...música para meus ouvidos...

Usando a outra mão livre, o homem a prende nos seus cabelos na nuca, te puxando para baixo, te fazendo se ajoelhar. Você entende o comando de cabeca lhe dado, e abre o cinto que segura a calça preta justa, e assim que abre a peça, a desce até seus joelhos, junto com sua cueca, liberando seu membro já ereto. Sua boca saliva com a visão: seu namorado com a máscara mais atraente do mundo, com a camisa mais gostosa do mundo, com o pau mais delicioso do mundo, te encarando.

Pegando o pênis que já estava melecado de pré gozo, você o coloca na boca, sentindo o peso delicioso na sua boca. Movimentando sua cabeça lentamente, em um movimento de vai e vem, o olhando com grandes olhos pidões. Mas o rapaz não tem planos de te deixar no comando, usando a mão na sua nuca, para se forçar para dentro da sua boca, te surpreendendo enquanto ele solta um grunhido alto de satisfação.

Christopher estava cada vez mais incisivo com seus movimentos, não só com a mão, pressionando seu rosto contra o dele, mas também movimentando os quadris contra sua boca, fazendo seu membro chegar até a ponta da sua garganta, e voce pressionar suas unhas nas coxas masculinas, tentando nao se perder na situação. Seu namorado sempre foi mais dominante no quarto, mas dessa vez a máscara parecia ter libertado uma fera que ele tentava prender. Fera essa que fodia sua boca e preenchia o quarto com gemidos roucos e abafados pela máscara

Você sente as veias do seu membro ficarem mais grossas, e o pênis do rapaz se contrair na sua boca, indicando que ele estava perto do orgasmo, mas ele se retira da sua boca, ato que você não gosta nenhum pouco, tentando o pegar novamente, mas recebendo um leve tapa na mão para te afastar. Bang Chan observa seus olhos vítreos, as bochechas vermelhas, e o modo como a saliva se mistura com seus próprios fluidos ainda conectaram seu pênis com a sua boca. Como ele queria poder gravar essa cena para sempre!

Ele passa a mão por seu rosto, te acariciando, e claro você aproveita o momento. Com uma ordem abafada, ele te auxilia a ficar de pé, te fazendo caminhar até o pé da sua cama, onde te coloca de quatro, de frente para um espelho que você tinha certeza que ficava do outro lado do quarto. O rapaz enrola seu cabelo no pulso, fazendo como um nada eficiente rabo de cavalo, mas um cabresto bem útil.

Bang chan puxa sua cabeça pra trás, te fazendo grunir de dor, excitação e surpresa, sua máscara se aproximando lentamente do seu ouvido. "Novo joguinho, vamos ver se você vai ser melhor nesse, tudo bem?" Apesar das palavras ameaçadoras, você não conseguia sentir nada além de excitação. Ainda no teatro, você confirma com a cabeça avidamente "Você só pode gozar, quando eu disser, entendido?"

O corpo do moreno se afasta de você apenas para poder te livrar dos seus shorts e calcinha, que estava extremamente molhada com a sua excitação. Se posicionando atrás de você, Christopher afasta suas pernas, se alinhando na sua boceta. Ao invés de te penetraram de uma vez, o mascarado brinca com o próprio membro, o melecando com a sua excitacao, ao mesmo tempo vendo sua reação através do espelho. O modo como tombou a cabe��a, jogando sua bunda delicioso para trás, em busca de mais dele.

Com um forte tapa em uma das suas nádegas ele te segura pela cintura, e te penetra, arrancando o ar dos seus pulmões. Suas estocadas começam lentas, mas precisas, saindo completamente de você, só para poder entrar novamente, mas ainda mais fundo. Ele coloca o corpo sob o seu, puxando seu cabelo novamente, mas posicionando sua cabeça para que você veja bem o reflexo de seus corpos se movimento em cada estocada.

— Olhos no espelho garotinha, se você parar, eu paro. Entendido?

Com você repetindo sim, e implorando pra ele não parar, Christopher sorri dentro da máscara. Ele sempre amou a garotinha obediente dele, e sabia que hoje não seria diferente.

O rapaz levanta a camisa grande do seu corpo (que na realidade você o roubou), e massageia seu seio, brincando com um de seus mamilos, arrancando um gemido mais agudo da sua doce boquinha. Ele então passa a estocar mais rápido, te fazendo revirar os olhos, e quando você os fecha por dois segundos para se concentrar em não gostar, ele para. Abrindo os olhos, você resmunga "não...por favor..." e Chris repete o movimento de cabeça dos personagens que você tanto ama, sentindo sua boceta se contrair com ele dentro.

— Olhos no espelho princesa! — ele avisa, arrastando o modo de falar, cada segundo se parecendo ainda mais com os primeiros assassinos.

Bang chan volta com as estocadas, mas ele estaria mentindo se dissesse que não estava prestes a gozar. A visão de te ter de quatro, seu rosto no espelho se contorcendo de pazer, com a bochecha ainda molhada com fluidos dos dois, as bochechas ruborizadas e os olhos lutando para ficarem abertos, o encarando com um desejo hipnotizador. Sua boceta tão quente e molhada, o fazendo deslizar como nunca, e sua própria excitação melecando não somente sua bunda, mas também como a virilha e as coxas dele. Você está em todo lugar, e é por isso que ele decidiu fazer essa surpresa em primeiro lugar.

Seu namorado mascarado abaixa seu tronco no colchão, fazendo seu quadril ficar mais alto, e ele ter acessos mais profundos. Aumentando a velocidade das estocadas, mas sem te dar nenhuma permissão. Como imaginado seus gemidos aumentam de volume, e suas unhas se prendem no colchão, e a cama passa a fazer muito barulho, batendo contra a parede.

— Por favor...por favor, eu preciso gozar! — você começa a pedir quando sente o no no estômago começar a ficar cada vez mais forte, e Bang Chan acertar seu ponto G. Você não poderia aguentar por muito tempo.

—Implora pra mim, meu amor. — Christopher comanda, parando apenas para te ouvir pedir, com mais clareza. — Auto e bom tom. Auto o suficiente pro seu namoradinho te ouvir implorar pra um cara que você não conhece terminar de te comer de jeito! — ele manda e você o faz.

— Por favor! Por favor senhor ghostface! Me faz gozar como nunca! Por favor!

Satisfeito, o moreno volta a estocar como antes, rápido e preciso, te segurando firme contra o colchão. O nó no seu estômago, volta a se apertar, o ar dos seus pulmões some, e você não consegue mais manter o olhar no espelho. Seu namorado não estava muito atrás, tendo a mesma sensação no próprio corpo, sentindo seu abdômen se contrair, e seu membro começar a se contrair também. Em questão de segundos, com ambos os gemidos preenchendo o quarto, os dois gozam juntos.

Satisfeito, o moreno volta a estocar como antes, rápido e preciso, te segurando firme contra o colchão. O nó no seu estômago, volta a se apertar, o ar dos seus pulmões some, e você não consegue mais manter o olhar no espelho. Seu namorado não estava muito atrás, tendo a mesma sensação no próprio corpo, sentindo seu abdômen se contrair, e seu membro começar a se contrair também. Em questão de segundos, com ambos os gemidos preenchendo o quarto, os dois gozam juntos.

Tentando se recuperar, seus olhos lutam para ficar abertos, mas é difícil. Bang Chan permanece dentro de você, te observando respirar com dificuldade. Só então você percebe que não usaram proteção, mas fica mais tranquila pois sabe que é Bang Chan.

Ele finalmente sai de dentro de você, e começa a se arrumar, enquanto você o observa confusa. É quando um barulho no andar de baixo, e percebe que é a sua porta abrindo, e mais um barulho de sacolas. Você se senta lentamente tentando entender a situação.

—Amoor! Desculpa a demora! — a voz de Christopher soa na sua sala, e você arregala os olhos, coração disparando em pânico. Se o seu namorado Christopher Bang está lá embaixo, então quem é o homem mascarado com quem acabou de transar pensando que era ele?!

Lentamente você observa a figura misteriosa, que estava de costas para você, cabeça baixa enquanto terminava de fechar o cinto da calça. O homem lentamente se vira para você, e pela primeira vez o sorriso distorcido começa a te espantar. O mascarado então avança em sua direção, que tem a única reação possível diante a situação:

— AAAAAH!

[futurecorps3]

angel:(

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐨𝐧𝐬’ 𝐩𝐞𝐭 𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮

⤷ female, ambiguous race, and any size reader. Requests are open, thank you for reading!  

a/n: lil short one <3

ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ

Keep reading

[monstersdownthepath]

Herald of Shelyn: The Spirit of Adoration

CR 15

Neutral Good Large Outsider

Inner Sea Gods, pg. 308

This gorgeous gal is said to be the incarnate of Shelyn's hope and love, born directly from the emotions of the Goddess of Love, and it shows. The Spirit of Adoration (who's title I will be shortening to 'the Spirit' or SOA from now on) is one of the rarest of the Heralds to ever see, as she spends the majority of her time in Nirvana, frolicking among the gardens of her mistress and creator. For vast swaths of her existence, the Spirit does little but entertain and interact with people coming and going from Blossomheart, the divine domain of Shelyn, putting her +22 to Perform and her Bardic talents to use. The only times she leaves are on diplomatic relationship missions with other planes... and as the occasional muse for a mortal in dire need of some beauty in their life.

Able to take the shape of any Small or Medium Humanoid, the Spirit masquerades as a bright and beautiful Bard when cavorting among mortals. She exists to lift spirits, dispel darkness, bolster love, inspire art, and preserve beauty, all things she excels at. Not over is she an incredible marriage councilor, but a phenomenal wingman, standing by the side of someone hopelessly in love but unable to pursue it, either because they physically cannot or simply don't know how; in either case, the Spirit provides answers and guidance.

Whether it's helping a budding relationship or helping an artist hone their skills, the Spirit can hand hand out upwards to six tokens of Inspiration, which often take the form of jewelry. So long as someone carries the token, they're blessed with a +4 insight bonus to Will saves, as well as Craft and Perform checks. Any Bard holding onto the token also gains +6 rounds of Bardic Performance per day regardless of their level, and the Spirit always knows the condition and emotional state of a token holder, arriving to their aid if they ever begin slipping... and if they put the token down for too long, she will know that it's because her job is done and they no longer need her blessing, letting her free up the slot for the next soul in need.

The Spirit is a noncombatant for the majority of her life, a far cry from most Heralds and very fitting for the servant of a goddess who holds out hope for even the most vile of souls. Even when pushed into battle, the Spirit seeks to end it as quickly as possible via diplomacy, charm, and calm explanations, saving violence only for creatures which cannot be reasoned with--namely, mindless Constructs and Undead--but even then preferring to fight only until they pose no danger to an innocent, going so far as to knock out and imprison the likes of daemons rather than dispatching them. While some may see her all-loving nature as foolish in such a universe, like her goddess she maintains that redemption, beauty, and love can be found in anything and given to anyone.

Remember that she's a merciful being as I explain to you just what could happen if that mercy ever stopped.

It takes a while to get there, mind. The Spirit's entire kit is devoted to keeping fighting to a minimum, to the extent that she has a Charming Aura that causes any creature within 30ft of her that fails a DC 24 Will save to be charmed for a day if they fail. A power like that would certainly be useful in the hands of a nefarious fiend, but the Spirit only uses it to get on everyone's good side to make them more amenable to her attempts at Diplomacy (which she has a +17 in).

She's also got Calm Emotions at-will for the same reason, and her aforementioned 40 rounds of Bardic Performance to distract or fascinate hostile crowds long enough for her to try and talk them down from their rampage. Should that fail, she has Good Hope and Inspire Courage +4 to aid any nearby allies in efforts to pacify the opposing force. She will refuse to kill any thinking being and will hesitate to harm even unthinking ones beyond the point of healing, using her at-will Cure Moderate Wounds to spare both ally and enemy from death in the hopes that her enemies will see the folly of their actions and begin walking the road to redemption.

While 40 rounds is usually enough to last her an entire day, there is the small but amusing interaction with her Inspiration power, in that she's not restricted from giving herself her own token, granting herself a +4 to Will saves and Craft/Perform checks, as well as +6 rounds of Performance if for whatever reason 40 isn't enough. If the DM allows her to do that, it's important to note that the stat enhancement is an insight bonus, meaning it STACKS with her own Unearthly Grace, which adds her Cha mod to her AC and all her saves; this means her saves go from an already impressive +17/+20/+24 to +17/+20/+28. She doesn't have immunity to mind-affecting effects, but between her 26 SR and a +28, she may as well; foes of a similar level to her simply can't affect her with anything that targets her Will unless she rolls a 1.

Her DR 10 is bypassed by Evil weapons like most celestial Outsiders, but she's immune to the common Fire and the typically-reliable Sonic, and has 30 Resistance to Acid and Electricity. She's not just sturdy, but she's also fast, moving 40ft a round on the ground and a 60ft fly speed with a proper +17 to Fly, allowing her to make impressive and often beautiful aerial maneuvers. Even beyond that, if she can see you she can just be there because she's got Teleport at-will, letting her appear directly next to anyone who's posing a threat to her or her charge. She's got a 10ft space and 10ft reach... but her statblock is a little ambiguous as to whether her 10ft reach is because of her weapon, a +2 Dancing Glaive, or in addition to it (which would make her reach 20ft). The downside that the glaive can't be used to attack creatures directly adjacent to her, but that's mitigated by the fact it's a Dancing weapon, allowing it to fight entirely on its own even when she moves, and leaving her hands free to cast spells, go full-defense, or open-palm slap someone for 5 nonlethal damage.

Whether she's wielding it herself or letting it dance around her, the glaive can attack up to four times a round for 2d8+8 damage, tripled on a critical hit. While she tends to go for nonlethal, the real use of her weapon is to disarm her foes; she's got Improved Sunder and a weapon strong enough to make that hurt, smashing apart her foes' weapons and armor if she just doesn't reach over and take them once she has them calmed, charmed, fascinated, or stunned.

"Stunned?" Oh yes. At will as a standard action, the Spirit can make a Stunning Ray ranged attack at anything within 180ft, blasting a target with a dazzling beam of light that deals 1d8 untyped and irresistible damage. Any creature impacted by the beam must make a DC 24 Will save or be stunned for 1d6 rounds, time the Spirit uses to rid them of their gear whenever she can... and, as the book states, time she uses to talk to them. Yes, for the entire duration of your stun, a 10ft tall beautiful woman will be trying to talk you out of continuing the battle. If you say "no, I'm going to keep fighting," guess what? There's no 24-hour immunity on her ray, so she may just blast you again... and again, and again, and again, and again, all the while relieving you of your equipment and perhaps even breaking it in front of you, until you either succeed the save (only to fail it again next round) or finally break down and surrender.

I don't know about you, but I think if I was some nameless soldier ready to kick some schmuck's teeth in, and the incarnate of resolute love and beauty descended from the heavens specifically to tell me to knock it off, I might begin questioning 'are we the baddies?'

And you know what? I've said all this without revealing the Spirit's nuclear option: Bardic Magic. 3/day, the Spirit can cast any Bard spell of any level. Do you know what most Heralds lack? Level 7+ spells. Do you know what the Spirit of Adoration has? 3 castings of any level 8+ equivalent spell in the game. Besides simple and silly utility options, the Spirit of Adoration can simply end any fight by casting oh, say, Overwhelming Presence, Waves of Ecstasy, or Hymn of Peace. And that's just defensive; offensive it's even worse, because Bards have access to spells including Shadow Evocation, Shadow Enchantment, and Shadow Transmutation, effectively meaning the Spirit of Adoration's spell list is "all of them." Bardic Magic is basically 3 castings of Limited Wish, except even stronger since the Bard's lower spell levels allow some sneaky power houses like Irresistible Dance, Mass Suggestion, Brilliant Inspiration, and Greater Shout, which are normally outside the power of Limited Wish. The DM is essentially encouraged to let the Spirit pull out whatever insane nonsense she needs to at a whim... but note that Bardic Magic is actually casting a spell, NOT using a spell-like ability! She has to provide components, if any are needed!

It's still a powerful option, and it makes her considerably more versatile than she already appears to be, in AND out of combat, and makes her just as dangerous as any Bard can be while surrounded by allies with fewer qualms about using lethal force. If you think she's dangerous on her own, just imagine how obnoxious Stunning Ray will be when there's a hasted Barbarian bearing down on you...

You can read more about her here.

[greenyvertekins]

Yes and the description fits you to a tee, you kiss up to sega of JP in the hopes they'll one day notice you, and see you as one of them.

Why is it you SoA/Flynn Stans equate preference for SoJ's work with having some deep-rooted desire to actually work for them? Is pulling at straws like this and projecting your delusions regarding your "enemies" the only thing you can resort to?

The irony is, this actually applies to Flynn. Who shamelessly begged his cult to get the ball rolling for him to write the games. Probably partly because he's a Small Name Big Ego who only got to his posiion through luck and who's only achievement was writing for a shitty in-name-only comic that SEGA didn't give a damn about. Unfortunately, SEGA took notice and gave him what he wanted over far more qualified, far less arrogant, far less sexist people. Allowing him to stick his dirty finger into tons of pies he isn't the least bit qualified for.