I was a tall gangly kid with short, untidy brown hair… shy, nerdy, and eager to please. My clothes were all Goodwill purchases - grass-stained blue jeans with pockets full of snail shells, used sneakers, and ill-fitting tshirts with other people’s names written on the tags.
My godsister was short and rather stout, with vibrantly red hair that fell to her thighs. She picked fights, flirted with boys left and right, carried a sword, and got what she wanted - above most things, she wanted to be tough. She wore handmade blouses, beaded earrings, buckskin skirts, and would not be caught dead wearing shoes, even in public.
Request from @crystalbaby12 for a Jax x Reader using the following prompts:
#13 - “Looks like we’re gonna be stuck here for a while.”
#88 - “After everything…I’d still choose you.” - A/N - I left this one out as I didn’t know how to put it in. Hope that’s okay!
“I can’t believe this shit.” you curse, pulling at the restraints on your wrist. Swearing loudly, you kick over a stool near your feet, the wooden chair smacking against the floor. You listen, waiting to see if your detainers come to see what the noise is about, but everything remains silent.
“I’m gonna rip his fucking heart out as soon as we get out of here.” Jax snarls from behind you, his back pressed up against the opposite side of the pillar. Even though you can’t see his face, you know his forehead is scrunched up in anger, the way it always does.
“If we get out of here.” you correct him, resting your head against the immovable post. “I dunno about you, but it looks like we’re gonna be stuck here for a while.”
“Now ain’t the time to talk smart.” he snaps, referring to your sarcastic tone. You roll your eyes, huffing in annoyance yet keeping your thoughts to yourself.
Minutes later, Jax sighs loudly, the silence broken by his now softened voice. “Sorry.”
“It’s fine.” you reply quietly, not knowing how much longer you’re going to be able to last, your back stiff and stomach rumbling from being kept hostage for well over a day now. “You think they know where we are?”
“I dunno, but we better hope they do.” You close your eyes, his response truthful yet lacking the hope you’re aching to hear. “Unless the club can somehow come up with half a mil in two days, we’re fucked.”
“Wow, great pep talk. I can see why they chose you for president.” you say, rolling your eyes. Jax brushes his hands up against your own, his restraints stopping him from holding your hand in his own.
“I’m gonna get you out of this, (Y/N).” he replies, determination in his tone. Tears prick at your eyes, heart heavy with panic, body heavy with fatigue. “I’ll never let anybody hurt you.”
“Bang up job you’re doing.” you sniff, your nose tingling as your vision turns misty, defeated tears falling down your cheeks. “I forgot, only you’re allowed to hurt me, yeah?”
You know it’s a low blow, the past between you and Jax still raw even though it’s been a good six months since you found out he was sleeping with Colette behind your back.
“You really wanna do this now?” he questions, his voice surprisingly calm, as if he knows you’re on the edge.
“What better time, Jax?” Your voice cracks as you say his name, frustration thick in your veins as you try to hold yourself together. “Might not get the chance after he slits our throats.”
“Jesus Christ!” He tugs at his restraints mercilessly, the pain in your voice like nails on a chalkboard, his skin crawling with red hot fury. You flinch as he shouts, more tears escaping from your eyes.
He remains silent for what feels like forever, the tension level high as you try to face the fact that you might not make it out of here alive.
Your head pounds as you cry silently, unable to bear the thought of never seeing your family again, or never seeing the club again.
“I argued with Tig before we got picked up.“ you start, your throat thick with emotion, the lump refusing to budge no matter how many times you swallow. “What if he blames himself?”
“Fucking stop it, (Y/N).” he warns, defiance in his words. “We’re not gonna die here.”
“How can you be so sure?” you argue, your bubble of hope completely deflated, your mind screaming at you to be realistic. “We live in the life, Jax. This sort of shit happens all the time.”
“Not to us, alright? This isn’t how it’s gonna end for you, (Y/N).“ Shaking your head, you wish his words could cut through the negativity in your brain. “I promise I’ll get you home safe.”
“Okay.” you agree falsely, tired of the same empty promises.
You feel yourself being shaken awake, the throbbing in your skull the first thing you feel once you begin to stir. Blurry vision focuses on Jax, a worried expression on his face as he studies you. “Shit, I thought you weren’t going to wake up.”
“What happened?” you ask groggily, your throat dry due to the lack of fluids. Taking in your surroundings, your eyes widen in horror as you spot the bleeding body near the door. “Oh my god.”
“Hey.” he calls, his cold hands cradling your face as he tries to direct your attention back to him. “It had to be done. Once I cut loose, it was either me or him.”
You know it’s true, though it doesn’t make it any less horrifying. Nodding, you try to blink away the black spots dotting your vision, cold sweats creeping up your body as you try to remain calm.
“Jax, I don’t feel right.” you complain, nausea sweeping over you in waves. Jax presses the back of his hand to your forehead, his icy touch bringing you temporarily relief. “I think I’m gonna pass out.”
You can barely hear him talk, his words muffled as a loud piercing sounds in your ears, beads of perspiration dripping from your neck down to your back. No matter how much you try to fight it, you feel yourself slump to the side, reality slipping from you as you lose consciousness.
The unmistakeable fumes of disinfectant fill your nostrils as your eyes flutter open, a white ceiling greeting you as you do so. A hiss escapes from your lips as you shift, the hefty needle hanging out of your arm being the cause. “Welcome back, sleeping beauty.”
You turn your head to the side, a smile slipping onto your lips at the sight of Gemma. “Gem.”
“I’m so glad you’re alright, sweetheart.” she mumurs, standing to place a loving kiss upon your forehead. The simple gesture brings tears to your eyes, relief flooding though you at the realisation that you’re back where you belong.
“Where’s Jax? Is he okay?” you ask, a million and one questions sitting on the end of your tongue. Gemma smiles knowingly, before nodding, a heavy breath leaving your lips.
“He’s been worried sick.” she says, squeezing your shoulder comfortingly. “I’ll send him in.”
A minute or so later, Jax slips into the room, your heart skipping a beat at the sight of him. His eyes look tired, though they spark once they land on you, his skin looking a little less pale. “How you feeling?”
“Alright, considering.” you respond quietly, pushing yourself to sit up as Jax sits on the side of your bed. “How long have I been out?”
“Couple hours. You scared the shit out of me.” he admits, running his fingers over his beard. You reach up bravely, taking his hand within your own, squeezing lightly.
“Thank you for keeping your promise.” He’s taken aback by your actions, not expecting you to greet him with such warmth. “I shouldn’t have doubted you.”
“I’m sorry I gave you a reason to.” he says, his eyes flickering to your lips before he clears his throat, pulling away. Leaning down, he places his lips upon your forehead, lingering for a few seconds. “I’ll leave you to rest.“
You wrap your hand around his wrist, stopping him from exiting. “Will you come back later?”
“You want me to?” You nod shyly, unsure where you stand with him. He raises his brow in surprise, before a small smirk appears on his face. “Then I’ll see you later.”
“Alright.” you reply lamely, a hopeful flutter in your chest that maybe you can work past the hurt, and maybe there is a silver lining to this situation after all.
A/N - Ahhhhh I’m really not sure how I feel about the ending of this but hopefully you guys like it! Thank you for being so patient, and thank you for reading❤ let me know what you think!!
Hello, my name is Katherine. I’m an 18 year old queer Canadian girl and I’ve opened an etsy store called Kat’s Creation Korner!
I make earrings and beaded bracelets, with a focus on pride flags, including optional letter beads! My store is also aromantic and asexual inclusive.
Some things you can find there are:
With many flag options! I also have a stealth option where every second bead is black, so the pride colours are broken up and look less like a pride flag.
You can also find OTP braclets, such as:
Every bracelet is made with pony beads, bamboo cord or stretch cord, and glue to hold the ends. Custom orders are available too!
Why support my shop? Any income I make from this will go towards things I need like university, food, and keeping my animals happy and healthy - and this way you get something from it too, instead of just donating.
Feel free to reblog and spread this around too! Thank you!
Bronze Bust of Sassanid King (Shapur II), Persia, 4th Century AD
The Sassanid King Shapur II is represented by a cast bronze torso which originally belonged to a composite statue that showed him majestically enthroned, his finely articulated hands resting on a sword (cast separately and now lost). He wears a high, crenellated, tripartite crown with ribbons attached at the back and his forehead is encircled by a diadem adorned with two rows of pearl beads. He wears a tight-fitting, long-sleeved tunic marked by sinuous rills; over this, he wears a belt and halter, both double-beaded with pearls and clasped at the waist with a large circular medallion bordered with the same gems. He is richly outfitted in large bead-and-pearl earrings, pearl bracelets, and a heavy pearl necklace with two round jeweled pendants, one intact, the other preserving traces of a sun disc.
The Sassanids were a Persian dynasty originating in Fars, who established a powerful empire that extended throughout the Iranian plateau between AD 224-226 and AD 651, making their capital at Ctesiphon. In western chronicles, the most celebrated event in Sassanid history was King Shapur I’s victory in AD 260 over the Roman emperor Valerian, who was taken prisoner along with several thousand of his soldiers. Comparison with similar stepped, crenellated crowns on coin portraits supports the identification of this bust as that of Shapur II (reigned AD 309-379) whose glorious seventy year tenure fortunately had a Roman eyewitness, the historian Ammianus Marcellinus, an officer in the army of Emperor Julian the Apostate.
KAYAPO COURAGE: “The Amazon tribe has beaten back ranchers and gold miners and famously stopped a dam. Now its leaders must fight again or risk losing a way of life.” ~ Chip Brown. photography by Martin Schoeller - full story & gallery via National Geographic (January 2014)
“YNHIRE expresses his identity as a warrior with a headdress of parrot feathers.”
“BEPRO wears the beads and cotton-wrapped earrings that boys receive as part of their naming ceremony.”
“ROPNI, an internationally known chief, is one of the few Kayapo who still wear the mahogany lip plate.”
“PHNH-OTI has an inverted V shaved into her scalp, a ceremonial female practice.”
“BEPRAN-TI wears an impressive display of feathers for his betrothal ceremony, a Kayapo rite of passage.”
“MEKARON-TI, the great chief, speaks Portuguese and is a powerful advocate for his people.”
“In short, tonight is going to be lit,” Peggy said as she led Alex and Laf into the living room.
Angelica, Eliza, and Hercules were already there.
“Where is he?” Angelica asked as soon as Alexander came into view.
“Wow, hi to you, too, Angie,” Alex said teasingly.
“You better have come through with your end of the deal, Ham, or else I might just have to––”
“Relax, mon ami,” Laf interrupted. “I was there when our dear Alexander invited him. All is well. He will be here.”
Angelica visibly relaxed at that. Alex noticed that she was dressed up–– a peach colored dress, beaded dangling earrings and a matching necklace and bracelets.
He then turned his attention to Eliza, who was more dressed up than Alexander ever remembered seeing her outside of a formal event. She had on flawless yet subtle makeup, a white collared shirt, and a high-waisted teal skirt that she tucked the shirt into, some of the fabric puffing out, hiding exactly where the shirt ended and the skirt began. She also had a long necklace on a silver chain with a single teal teardrop shaped stone dangling on the end of it. Alex couldn’t help but stare for a moment.
Eliza tucked a strand of her dark hair behind her ear and looked Alex’s way, as if she felt his gaze.
“You look beautiful,” he said before he could think.
She blushed, smiling shyly at him. “Thanks. That sweater looks really nice on you.”
“Laf chose it.”
“I figured,” she said with a laugh.
“So,” Alex asked, sitting down on the couch next to her, “you suddenly got really dressy on us. Are things different at that fancy school of yours?” He was clearly just teasing her, but he was also curious. Eliza had always been more of a tomboy–– a t-shirts, leggings, and converse kind of girl.
Eliza blushed an even deeper shade of red. “I, well, first of all I discovered that I like to wear dresses.”
Alex beamed at her. “And you look gorgeous in them, clearly!”
“Thanks,” she said with a nervous laugh. “And, well, Peggy may have invited someone here tonight that I have a crush on…” She began to fiddle with her hair anxiously.
“Peggy is quite the handful,” Alex said with a sigh. “But who is this mystery person?” He gently nudged her in the side with his elbow, eliciting another soft laugh from her. He always thought that Eliza’s laughs were the audio version of fairy lights–– soft, gentle, and beautiful.
“Her name is Maria,” Eliza whispered.
Alexander grinned at her. “She’d be silly not to like you, Sweet Lizard.”
Eliza’s laugh appeared again, widening Alex’s smile. He always felt warm inside when he managed to make Eliza laugh. It was such a glorious feeling.
The two friends were distracted by the sound of more voices filling the room. From the way Eliza froze and her face turned a brighter red than Alexander had ever seen (and that was saying something), he figured the girl he didn’t know, who was dressed in what looked like an incredibly soft red sweater and dark blue skinny jeans with a few gold bangles around her wrist, and who had dark brown hair that fell to her shoulders in luscious waves, was Maria. The other girl with her was Adrienne de Noailles, the other ⅓ of the Laf-Herc-Adri trio.
He was about to ask Eliza if she wanted to go over and say hello when a third new person walked–– no, sauntered–– in.
The boy was tall, dressed in a deep purple cardigan with black jeans tucked into golden high-tops converse. His puffy dark brown hair bounced as he made his way over to the couch and smirked down at Alexander.
“Hamilton,” he said.
“Jefferson,” Alex grumbled.
“Thomas!” Angelica exclaimed, conveniently coming in from the kitchen at that exact moment. “I am so glad you could make it!”
He leaned down and they air-kissed each other on each cheek. Alexander rolled his eyes and Eliza gave him a look.
“I would never miss an opportunity to be in the presence of the dazzling Angelica Schuyler,” he said smoothly.
“Ugh,” Alex muttered. He motioned to Eliza, and the two of them made their escape as Angelica and Jefferson started flirting with each other through an exchange of witty remarks that neither Alexander nor Eliza had any desire to overhear.
“I’VE GOT THE GAMES!” Peggy hollered from the hallway. She then entered the room with a stack of games that was almost larger than she was.
Eliza and Maria rushed forward at the same time to help her, and, from the look on Peggy’s face, it was evident that that had been her intention all along.
Alexander went up to Peggy once the games were safely in Eliza and Maria’s hands. “Hey, uh, where’s John?” Alex scratched the back of his neck.
Peggy just smirked. “He and his sister Martha are coming, don’t worry your butt off or anything.”
“Mon ami, if you worry anymore butt off you will have none left!” Laf came up behind Alex with Adrienne on one arm and Hercules on the other. They winked at Alex in unison.
Just then, the doorbell rang.
Lafayette beamed at Alexander. “Are you ready to meet your, how you say, Prince Charming?”