genre: fluff member: park jihoon word count: 820 requested: no side notes: i rEALLY need to finish my cafe series
- inspired by a post i saw on instagram lol - you were at a local cafe - and you rarely go to cafe’s but you decided to go to it because you felt like you needed a different place to begin studying - despite your room being extremely comfy, it distracted you a bit too much that the bed is just rIGHT THERE - plus cafe provide coffee so - typing away there was a cute boy whom sat at an angle from you - for some reason you couldnt help but smile - bUT WHO CANT HELP BUT SMILE WHEN YOU SEE - PARK - JIHOON - you found him extremely cute for some reason - “fckinghell i just came out here not to be distracted but hE JUST OWKDOWSOWKW” you quickly type on your keyboard to only soon erase it all - you immersed yourself into your work again but every time you’d glance around to think of what to type out next your eyes would always land on him - his face was small as his hair was naturally curly - almost bed-hair like but it just looked too perfect to be just - bed hair - HHH PARK JIHOON IS TOO PERFECT I CANT - WHATTA BIAS WRECKER - MUST STAY LOYAL TO DANIEL - you sighed as you leaned back onto your chair and went on your phone scrolling through social media for a bit when a thought crossed your mind - lightly biting your lip, you opened the camera app as you acted as though you were texting as you angled your rear camera to the boy who sat across from you - but right before you were about to hit the button a thought crossed your mind - “is this creepy? should i really be doing this? what if i get sued or something?” you asked yourself - “oH WELL as long as i dont share it to 103920 people i’ll be fine,” you also replied to yourself - making sure the ringer was off, you hit the button quickly as you returned to your normal spot naturally - opening albums you clicked on the photo and noticed how the bed-haired boy also held his phone in the same direction you did - you looked at him as you both made eye contact - panicking, you look back onto your laptop as you begin typing whatever came to mind as you wanted to scream and smile but held it back - you ended up only typing gibberish as you then erased it all like always - finishing up your essay, you ordered one last cup of coffee - packing up your stuff into your bag, you headed towards the pick-up area and waited for your cup of coffee to be finish brewing - taking one last glance at the boy whom will just be strangers in the end - you couldn’t help but stare blankly - he was fixing up his bangs a bit as he also packed his books into his bags - “one small iced coffee!” the barista yelled as you snapped out of it - you grabbed the coffee, slightly thanking them as you puffed up your cheeks and was about to head out the door - the boy walked in front of you as he opened the door and held it opened as you walked out, thanking him as you couldn’t help but grin to his polite gesture - you were taking the 187 bus nearby as he followed your presences - “h-hi!” you blurted as he got flustered and sharply stopped his steps - “h-hey there,” he replied shyly as he slightly blushed - still walking the same way, you scattered through your head questions to ask - “what school do you go to?” you both asked in synced - you both chuckled - “shujin academy,” you both replied in synced once again - “really?” you asked, quite shocked to see how you could miss such a sight there - “yeah, i’ve never seen you around before,” the boy spoke - “oh, i forgot to ask what your name is,” you blurted as you both arrived at the bus stop - “i’m park jihoon, 2nd year,” he introduced - “and you?” - “i’m y/n, also 2nd year,” you replied slightly smiling - he stared blankly as your smile slowly faded away into confusion - “hhh sorry, you’re smile is justreallypretty,” he spoke as he glanced onto the floor - the bus arrived as you both got on without saying a word - he joined his group of friends who greeted him happily as you sat in the back - and from there, you guys never interacted again - you didnt see him in the school hallways - nor his friends who you saw on the bus - which made you pout a bit - time skip wooshwoosh - like hella but not rlly time skip - 6 months time skip - scrolling through twitter you came across a tweet that caught your eye - the caption titled “omg wannaone’s jihoons wallpaper lolol” - you noticed that name but it didnt ring a bell - you clicked onto the picture to see - he took a picture of you too that same day
SWEPTAIL, bespoke Rolls-Royce for one specific customer
Every aspect of the material treatment of ‘Sweptail’ exudes handcrafted quality and exacting attention to detail. In short, it is a Rolls-Royce – but like no other before. The owner of this car, who doesn’t wish to be named, obviously has deep pockets. Very deep pockets, since the special Rolls is rumored to cost around $13 million. The unnamed gentleman came to Rolls-Royce to realize his vision of a one-off luxury motor car that would evoke the beauty of coachbuilt Rolls-Royces of the 1920s and 1930s. He asked for a two-seat coupé featuring a large panoramic glass roof.
“Sweptail is the automotive equivalent of Haute Couture,” comments Giles Taylor, Director of Design at Rolls-Royce Motor Cars. “It is a Rolls-Royce designed and hand-tailored to fit a specific customer. This customer came to the House of Rolls-Royce with an idea, shared in the creative process where we advised him on his cloth, and then we tailored that cloth to him. You might say we cut the cloth for the suit of clothes that he will be judged by.”
Inspired by the beautiful coachbuilt Rolls-Royces of the 1920s and 1930s, the client’s desire was for a coachbuilt two seater coupé featuring a large panoramic glass roof. Amongst his inspirations were the dramatic 1925 Phantom I Round Door – the svelte tapering glasshouse, dramatic dash to axle proportion and up-sweep of the rear departure angle of the 1934 Phantom II Streamline Saloon. Other classics from the marque’s golden age informing this car were the 1934 Gurney Nutting Phantom II Two Door Light Saloon and the Park Ward 20/25 Limousine Coupé.
The grille is the largest fitted to any modern-era Rolls Royce. It’s milled from a single piece of aluminum, before being hand-polished to a mirror shine. Further back you’ve the “swept-tail” that gives the car its name, while Rolls says the way the bodywork wraps under the car “with no visible boundary to the surfaces” is “akin to the hull of a yacht”. Meanwhile the “bullet-tip” centre brake light and lower bumper “combine to create a greater feeling of elegance in motion”.
The “highlight” of the exterior though, says Rolls, is the panoramic glass roof. They claim it’s “one of the most complex ever seen on a motor car”. It’s certainly among the biggest. Creating the ambience of the interior of the motor car, the glass of the roof is framed by polished aluminum rails that channel it into a vanishing point at the rearmost extremity of the cabin. The panoramic glass roof illuminates a minimalist interior, ‘decked’ out in materials as rich as you’d expect from the marque. Dark ebony wood and ‘Dark Spice’ leather are complimented by lighter paldao wood and ‘Moccasin’ leather. The minimalist ethic is taken to the extreme with the dashboard, which ditches everything except for one single physical control – everything else is hidden away to allow the materials to star.
Behind the two enormous front seats, instead of a rear bench you’ll find an vast expanse of wood, ideal for storing designer suitcases. The center armrest is a chiller for a bottle of vintage champagne and two crystal champagne flutes.
“Oh my god! Shiro Turn it up!” Lance reached for the radio and turned the volume dial up to the point where the car buzzed to the beat.
“Oh my god no-” Keith protested but it was too late. Lance and Shiro had already started singing.
“Y'all haters corny with that illuminati mess. Paparazzi check my fly and my cocky-fresh.”
Keith groaned and knew there was no getting out of it. He turned to hear Hunk softly chime in.
“Not you too Hunk!”
It’s a good song, man.“
“My daddy Alabama; my momma Louisiana. You mix that negro with that creole make a Texas-bama! I like my baby heir with baby hair and afros. I like my negro nose with Jackson Five nostrils!”
The car slowed to an intersection stop light and continued to buzz along with the rhythm and beat. Lance danced in his seat and grabbed Shiro’s left hand and made him wave it in the air.
Shiro and Hunk roared with laughter and Keith could barely hold it in much longer. “You’re ridiculous.” Keith sighed and tried to look away.
This only made Lance sing louder and turn the volume up. “I see it I want it! I stunt, yellow bone it! I dream it, I work hard, I grind ‘til I own it!” Lance turned his head towards the back seat. “Sing, Keith!”
“No.” Keith crossed his arms in an attempt to shield his dignity.
“C'mon, Keith. Have some fun.” Shiro met his eyes trough the rear-view mirror.
“No.” Keith said more firmly this time but still looked away.
“It’ll only get louder~” Lance reached for the volume dial tauntingly; a smirk creeping on his face.
“…Okay fine!” Keith shouted. His ears couldn’t take anymore or they might explode along with the car.
“I’ll sing this next part with you.” Hunk offered. Keith nodded and mentally prepared himself for the utter humiliation he was about to endure. He knew Lance was never gonna let him live this down.
“Get ready, Keith!” Lance smiled still moving to the rhythm. Shiro inched the car forward when he light turned green, the few cars infront of them moving forward as well.
Hunk started a beat before Keith who quickly caught up. “Okay ladies, now let’s get in formation, cause I slay! Okay ladies, now let’s get in formation, cause I slay! Prove to me you got that coordination, cause I slay! Slay trick, or you get eliminated!”
“Woo!” Lance laughed from the front seat amazed that Keith was better than decent.
Keith knew he wouldn’t be able to stop himself. “When he fuck me good, I take his ass to Read Lobster.”
“Cause I slay!” Lance cackled.
“When he fuck me good, I take his ass to Red Lobster!”
“Cause I slay!” Lance and Hunk now fully chimed in with Shiro quietly singing along as he drove the car smoothly into the intersection.
“If he hit it right I might take him on a flight in my chopper!”
All four boys were fully invested in the song that they didn’t see the speeding car come up on their six and swerve to the left lane. They didn’t see it try to speed past and merge into their lane.
But they did feel it when the car rammed into the passenger side of the car and flip them twice. They felt it when the car crashed into the road island and hit a tree on the driver’s side.
Glass shattered and the car looked deformed and beyond hope.
The radio belched fragments of the song. “Cause I– Bill ga– se I slay–” before completely shutting down.
Lance opened his eyes to a horrific pain. Huge glass shards stuck out of his right leg and arm. His chest hurt from the seatbelt and he felt sick. “Ugh…” he croaked. “Shiro? Shiro.” He lifted his already bruising left arm towards Shiro.
Shiro looked worse. Horrible. The tree curved the car on impact so the door was right up against the trunk. Shards of glass scraped and penetrated Shiro’s neck as blood sprayed across what was left of the window and the tree. “Oh god- Shiro!” Lance shook Shiro’s right arm violently with as much strength as he could.
“Hunk! Keith! Shiro’s gone!” He felt a lump form in his throat. When he heard no response, he tried turning his head towards the back but found it excruciatingly painful. He shrieked and tried to catch his breath.
With his left hand still in working condition, he reached for the rear-view mirror and angled it to see Hunk. He looked fine except for the car door crushing his arm against him and glass scattered on and around his body.
Lance angled the mirror so he could see Keith. He had forgotten Keith didn’t put on his seatbelt when they left. Keith’s body was leaning over his legs and his head pressed against the back of Shiro’s seat. His eyes were wide open and glazed over.
Lance threw up all over himself and began to cry. He felt the blood on his arm trickled down and hit his shirt, staining it.
It was then when the sirens were heard. A million things happened at once and Lance tried to focus on waking Hunk up. “Hunk! …Hunk wake up! Come on, please wake up!” Lance shouted through salty and bloody tears.
Paramedics and firemen worked to get Lance and his friends out of the car. The put a neck brace on him and lifted him out of the car as he screamed and told them to get his friends.
He was put on a stretcher and rushed to an ambulance and told them he wouldn’t shut up unless he knew Hunk and Keith were okay. “TELL ME! PLEASE TELL ME IF THEY’RE OKAY!”
“Sir, please call down we need to get you to a hospital.”
“NO! HUNK IS STILL IN THERE. KEITH… HE WASNT WEARING A SEATBELT. PLEASE JUST TELL ME THEY’RE OKAY.” He screamed. A woman jogged over to him and the paramedic he was with with a grim face.
“Sir I’m sorry, none of your friends made it.” She closed her eyes.
“No. No! NO THEY CANT- HUNK! KEITH! SHIRO!” He squirmed as they closed the bus doors and drove him to the hospital.
Lance went through a surgery and when he recovered he opened his eyes to see Pidge and Allura sitting with him. They stopped crying when they saw Lance stir.
“Lance!” Pidge reached for his hand.
“Hey. I got into a car crash.” Lance said.
“We know.” Allura sniffed and placed a hand on top of Pidge’s.
“Then you know where Keith and Hunk are? Shiro didn’t make it…” Lance looked down at the foot of the bed.
The girls looked at each other in worry. “Lance… you’re the only one who made it. Hunk and Keith are…”
“What? No, Hunk was fine.”
Pidge shook her head. “No, Lance. Keith’s neck snapped on impact and Hunk had internal bleeding.”
“You’re lying.” Lance took his hand away and felt that lump come back.
“Lance we’re sorry-”
“This is all my fault.” He began to cry again and put his hands over his face.
“Lance it couldn’t possibly be your fault.” Allura reassured him.
“Yes it is! I distracted Shiro! That car… it’s all my fault! I killed them! I distracted them and we got hit!” Lance wailed. The monitor beeped faster and nurses rushed in to restrain him and sedate him. “Stop! Let me die! Let me die! Stop it! Let me die!”
Request: Imagine your Gemmas niece and your back in Charming. Chibs smut
The car pulled over to the side of the road and you angled the rear-view mirror to look at yourself. You rummaged through your handbag and pulled out your lipstick, and drew it across your lips. You grabbed your eye liner next and redrew your wings and after re applying your mascara you looked over your work. With a wink and a pout to your reflection, you shifted the mirror back into position and lifted the handbrake, driving smoothly back into the traffic and past the ‘Welcome To Charming’ sign. It had been years since you’d left. You had been naive and innocent then, just a young girl searching for herself. But now, you were back. The last few years had been kind to you, and your body had developed into that of a full blown woman. Curves in all the right places, soft skin and long legs. Your hair fell graciously down your back and anywhere you went all eyes were on you. Confidence radiated from you and you bathed in it. You loved the way heads turned when you walked into a room and the way other girls envied you. Sure, some of them were bitchy, but you had been raised by your Aunt Gemma til you were fifteen, and she had taught you to be the biggest bitch of all and not take anyones shit. You were similar to your Aunt in many ways. Neither of you gave a shit what anyone else thought, and nothing could stand in the way of getting what you wanted. You were fiercely loyal and you would do anything to protect the ones you loved. When you left she was still the Queen of SAMCRO, but you had heard that things had changed. A smirk spread across your face as you wondered who the poor bitch was that took Gemma’s place. No matter where your Aunts old man sat, everyone knew that as long as Jax was in SAMCRO, Gemma would always be queen. The familiar streets began to flow past you as you drove, the windows down and the warm air swirling through your car. You knew the way to TM like the back of your hand and before you knew it you were pulling into the lot, the row of hikes a welcome sight. No one knew you were coming and you smirked as you saw what you suspected were Prospects eyeing you from the garage. You didn’t see many familiar faces so you hopped out of your car an headed for the Office. The sound of your heels echoed across the pavement and you smirked as you felt the eyes on you. The door to the office was open and you could see Gemma sitting behind the desk, her head buried in the paperwork in front of her. You leant against the door and knocked lightly. “I’m busy.” Gemma said, without glancing up. A smile spread across your lips and you crossed your arms over your chest. “So you’re still a bitch, huh?” You asked. Gemma’s head snapped up but once she saw you her mouth dropped. “(Y/n)??!!” She gasped and stood up, tossing her glasses to the desk. “Hey Gem.” You grinned at her. You both moved closer and she embraced you in her arms. You squeezed her tightly, realising just how much you had missed her. “What are you doing here?” Gemma asked you, stepping back to look at you. “I heard there was a bitch trying to take your place.” You said with a smirk and Gemma smirked right back at you. “I am so glad your back.”
The clubhouse was exactly the same as you remembered. From the wall of mugshots to the strong smell of liquor and cheap perfume, and the same old rock songs playing through the speakers, just like they had so many years ago. You smiled as you looked around the room, taking in the familiar sight. You were home. “Chucky, get us a drink would you sweetheart?” Gemma called to a man behind the bar and he nodded immediately before grabbing two glasses. You smiled warmly to the strange man and he stuck his ‘hand’ out. You shook it gently and he grinned at you before passing you and Gemma your drinks and she smirked at him. “Thank you, Chucky.” She cooed and he blushed slightly before moving away. “So where is everyone?” You asked as you took a sip, your eyes glancing around the empty room. “Church.” Gemma explained and you nodded. After an hour of catching up with your Aunt both of your attention turned to the large doors as you heard them open, and SAMCRO began to file out. You rested your elbows against the bar behind you and leant back, a smirk on your face as you studied the familiar faces. Jax was the first to notice you and his face lit up with joy. You hopped of the stool and ran towards him, throwing your body into his open arms. He swung you round, squeezing you tightly and you threw your head back and laughed loudly, letting your hair fall down your back. He placed you back on the ground and you both grinned at each other goofily. “Long time no see, Teller.” You smirked and nudged him playfully. A large hand ruffled your hair and you turned only to be wrapped up in a bear hug by Ope. You had always been close with the two, being only two years younger and you had spent a lot of your childhood with them. You grinned and hugged him back. “What took you so long?!” Opie beamed and you grinned back at him. Slowly the familiar faces began to swarm towards you and you embraced each of them dearly. Bobby, Tig, and Uncle Clay. Chibs stood near the back and you smirked at his wide eyes before moving forward and throwing your arms around his neck. “Hey Chibby.” You purred in his ear. His arms held you awkwardly and you fought back a laugh, knowing it was your appearance that was having this affect on him. When you had left Charming you were a young girl, with too much attitude for her own good. But these guys hadn’t seen you in years, and all their jaws were practically hitting the floor as they looked over your now developed figure. He fought to keep his eyes away from your curves and your cleavage and he smiled at you warmly. They introduced you to the others you didn’t know yet, Juice, Happy, and Kozik. Each of them looked you up and down, smirks on their faces as they took you in, but you were used to it. “So how long are you here for?” Jax asked you as he threw an arm over your shoulder and you all walked towards the bar. You shrugged. “Til I get sick of seeing your ugly face.” You smirked up at him and he shoved you playfully, both of you laughing. Soon the drinks started flowing, the music played louder, and the air began to merge with the smoke from ciggarettes and joints. Laughter filled the room and you say with your SAMCRO family, catching up and laughing together about all the things you’d missed.
The sun began to set outside, but you were oblivious. You sat around the clubhouse, all of you well on your way to being drunk as you all belted out the words to ‘You shook me all night long’. You had always been the life of the party, and your friends had always said you were like a chameleon, able to fit in with any crowd no matter your differences. People seemed to relax around you, and tonight you had had everyone in fits of laughter, and for the first time in a long time the boys had forgotten there problems. No one noticed the door to the clubhouse open, and no one notice Tara walk in, her hands on her hips as she looked at the chaos. You were on the table, the boys around you, all of you screaming the lyrics to each other, grins on your faces. Chibs’ eyes were locked on you as you swayed your hips and moved to the music. However you had a habit of getting a bit too excited when you heard ACDC and after swinging your head around the table, your hair flowing, you slipped and your cousin Jax caught you, all of you erupting in laughter. Tara stormed across the room, a scowl on her face as Jax lowered you to the ground. You didn’t see her coming, your back was too her and she stormed up to you. From across the room Gemma watched, a smirk on her face. Tara pushed your shoulder roughly, making your body turn to face her. you looked her up and down, a wicked smirk on your face as you looked her over. She had never met you, and she stepped closer to you, her fists clenched by her sides. “Stay the fuck away from my man.” She spat. You raised your eye brows, and scoffed. “Excuse me?” “Jax is mine, bitch.” She said coldly and she shoved you once more. That was the final straw. Fire filled your bones and your fist collided with her jaw. Her head snapped to the side and she clutched her face in shock before it turned into a scowl. She swung her fist, but you were faster. This time, you got her right in the nose, and a cracking noise confirmed a break. Tara fell to the ground and you leapt on top of her. Fists were flying and you could feel arms trying to lift you off her. But you resisted, despite Tara having her hands wrapped around your hair. With one final blow to her jaw you stopped resisting, letting the strong arms lift you. Before they could carry you away you stared down at her as she looked up at you in shock, blood pouring from her nose. “Your standards have dropped, Jackson.” You said loudly before squatting in front of her. “But luckily for you, bitch, I’m not really into fucking my cousin.”
The strong arms held you firmly and you were marched across the clubhouse. When you turned around you saw it was Chibs leading you and you didn’t mind so much. He led you in silence to the hallway and you walked with your head held high. Tara had managed to get a couple of good hits on you but nothing too major. You might have a couple of bruised and scratches in the morning but you’d been in worse fights before, and you knew you’d look better than her. Chibs opened the door and you followed him in, your eyes scanning the room you realised was his dorm. “Ye alright lass?” He asked you softly. You walked to the bed and flashed him a grin over your shoulder. “Couldn’t be better.” You winked and he chuckled lightly. “Where’d ye learn to fight like that?” He asked you as he moved across the room and both of you sat on the bed. You looked at him and raised you eye brows. “You do remember who raised me, right?” You asked playfully and you both laughed. Chibs reached into the bedside tables drawer and pulled out a bottle of whiskey. His strong hands unscrewed the bottle and he took a long swig before passing the bottle to you. It was smooth down your throat and you passed it back to him. Your fingers touched his as you passed the bottle and you felt a spark of electricity run through you, and warmth began to grow inside you. Chibs placed the bottle on the table and you both sat in silence. Neither of you could deny the sexual chemistry burning in the air. It was just a matter of who would make the first move. Of course, it was you. Slowly, you stood and stepped in front of Chibs. His eyes met yours and you smiled at him, your hands reaching out and running along his shoulders. You lifted your knees onto the bed and sat in his lap, straddling him. His hands touched your thighs and you bit your lip as you looked into his deep eyes. You both moved your heads together, teasing each other, his hands caressing your thighs and your hands running through his hair. His breath was in your lips and you licked your own lips before moving your head forward. His lips were soft on yours, cautious, almost, but the feel of him lit a hunger inside you. You pressed your lips against his once more and ran your tongue across his lip. His hands moved to your waist and he gripped you firmly as his mouth moved with yours. Your hips rolled against him and you moaned softly at the friction, you could feel how hard he was already through your clothes. His hands explored your body, searching desperately across your skin and he lifted your shirt, tossing it behind you. His lips moved down your neck and he sucked roughly at your skin, making you tug gently at his hair. Your hips continued to grind against him and you clutched desperately at him as his lips explored your neck and the curve of your breasts. His hands moved up your back and he unclipped your bra expertly before letting it drop to the floor. You pushed him back on the bed and lay on top of him, your hips grinding against his and your lips pressing against him. His hands were warm on your skin yet they sent shivers through you. His hands dipped under the waist band of your jeans and he held you to him as you rolled your hips against his, both of you moaning. You pushed his kutte off his shoulders and impatient hands unbuttoned his shirt. Chibs rolled you onto your back and you moaned as he pressed his hardness against your core. His lips moved to your breast and he sucked roughly at your nipple, and you gasped as you felt him bite it gently. His hands moved to your jeans and he tugged them down your thighs roughly. His eyes took in every inch of you as he unbuckled his belt and dropped his jeans to the floor, his boxers following instantly. His member stood proudly and you licked your lips as he moved onto the bed and hovered over you. You reached up and kissed his lips softly. His hands moved to your panties and he pushed them to the side before lining himself up at your entrance. You moaned as he rubbed himself against your folds and he pushed forwards slowly. A gasp escaped your lips as he pushed into you and he paused for a moment, letting you adjust to him. You both looked into each other’s eyes before kissing deeply. A list burnt within you and you moved your hips, signalling him to continue. He took the hint and moved his hips against you, both of you moaning at the sensation. His thrusts became deeper and his whole length pulled out of you slowly before slamming back in. Your back arched off the bed and Chibs began to pound into you relentlessly, his hands gripping your legs and his mouth wrapped around the skin in your neck. You felt every inch of his length enter you and you moaned his name. His thrusts became faster, harder, more desperate. “Chibs.” You moaned as he filled you and he growled. Your nails scratched down his back as he moved inside you. His hand ran between your bodies and his thumb reached your clit, rubbing soft circles. “Cum for me little girl.” He growled and you moaned loudly at his words. His thrusts shook your body and you both moaned as you both reached your release. His movements slowed and he rested over you as you both caught your breath. After a moment he lifted his head and pressed his lips to yours softly before rolling off you. You rolled onto your side and smiled at him through hooded eyes. “Well, that was fun.”
Are the sloped backs and bent legs on show German Shepherds from breeding or is it just a stance they're trained to stand/walk in? I can't really find a definite answer for that.
I had an answer I wrote on this but I cannot find it for the life of me!
The structural aspect people commonly label as a “sloped back” has nothing to do with the back at all and is not a accurate term. Rather the slope is created by several things, the major one is rear angulation, and the manner of the stack (if the dog is leaning into itself, etc), some things such as overangulation and weak ligamentation can make it more extreme. This is where you must learn to develop an eye for structure, and you cannot always judge from a picture.
To show you what I mean, this is my dog who I know has strong ligamention and could actually use a bit more rear angle in two different stacks. Notice how his rear and topline are exaggerated in the lower one? This is simply because he is leaning into himself, which dogs are often taught to do for conformation. Taken only a couple months apart. Fairly mild example.
Now looking at this dog, this dog is not stacked it is just standing this way. This would be a dog with weak ligaments that do not properly support its weight. I personally feel the strength of the dogs’ ligaments overall plays a huge roll. As I’ve seen dogs with far less angulation who were still quit weakly built, and I’ve seen dogs who had a lot of angle but were still quite firm.
Compare these two dogs, the dog is a dog who looks to be overangulated and potentially has weaker ligaments. Notice how the dog looks to “sag” in the rear, like there isn’t much support.
Compare to this dog, still a good amount of rear angle but notice how much stronger he looks. He moves quite nicely as well.
Same dog in a more moderate stack.
Hopefully that gives you a better idea, it’s not something that’s easy to learn overnight but rather you must develop an eye for.
Since hip dysplasia is a hot topic in the post-Westminster dogblr, I figured I would look up OFA’s current statistics on German Shepherd Dogs. The results may surprise you.
GSD hips may not be as bad as some may lead you to believe. They’re certainly not good, but they aren’t nearly as bad as other breeds that get hardly any criticism. Seriously, they don’t even make the Top 10. Or Top 20, or 30. German Shepherds are #38 on OFA’s list of Hip Dysplasia rankings by breed. (OFA’s list technically says 39, but for some reason OFA lists Maine Coon cats as #19. Meow!)
The trends in GSD hip dysplasia are actually kind of cool! When OFA first started recording GSD hips, 22.2% were dysplastic and only 2.6% were Excellent. The percentage of Excellent evals has steadily increased ever since, and is currently at 7.5%. Dysplastic evals have decreased, and are currently at 19.2%. 2001-2005 was actually a great period for GSDs, where dysplastic eval percentage fell to just 18.6%. Are these numbers ideal? No, but the important take-away here is that they’re moving in a better direction. And this is a great time to remind everyone that Rumor, the 2017 Westminster BIS winner, has OFA Excellent hips! Let’s celebrate that, folks!
The percentage of dysplastic Cardigan Welsh Corgis, Pembroke Welsh Corgis, and English Shepherds (just to name a few) are currently higher than the percentage of dysplastic GSDs. The percentage of OFA Excellent GSDs is higher than the percentage of OFA Excellent Beagles.
It’s also interesting to note that many of the breeds with the highest incidence of hip dysplasia do not share the GSD’s extreme rear angulation. Most actually have quite moderate rear angles. Some of these breeds are larger than the GSD; some are smaller. There’s a lot we don’t know about hip dysplasia, so blaming it on structure or a particular group of breeders isn’t realistic.
if you get a chance could you talk about conformation differences between moya and rou? i was looking at the stacked pictures and can't see much difference except that rou maybe has more depth of chest?
Pictures for reference:
Comparing the two overall they are quite similar but I like Moya’s structure more. She has a very nice topline, strong straight back, nice chest for her age, she has more front and rear angle than Rou. She also has a more appropriate tail set.
Rou is not bad in any of those categories but her structure just isn’t quite as nice as Moya’s.
Lance’s heart vanished from his chest as Shiro went on.
“There was a wreck and he was hurt.” Lance’s blood turned to ice. Shiro took a shaky breathe. “We’re at the hospital. I think you should come as soon as you can.” Lance choked on a sob as he tried to stand. His legs felt weak as he fell to his knees. Biting his lip, he tried to speak.
“Is he-” Lance sobbed again.
“No, he-” Shiro took another breath in, “Just get here when you can. And Lance, be careful.” Lance nodded as he cried, cupping his hand over his mouth to stop the noise. Shiro paused for a moment before bidding him goodbye and hung up. Lance let the phone slid out of his hand as he pulled his knees up. Burying his head in between them, he felt his sobs break his ribs open. Why couldn’t things just go his way for once? It seemed that when everything was nice and perfect something bad would happen. Lance cursed Fate as he tried to stumble onto his feet. Even if things were never perfect, he had to get to Keith. Lance cleaned up his face and grabbed Pike. Pike whined and grumbled at being woken up, but soon fell back to sleep against Lance’s shoulder. Quickly grabbing the diaper bag, his wallet, and his keys, Lance rushed out to the car. With Pike secured safely in the back seat, Lance angled the rear view mirror down so he could see Pike. He needed the constant reminder that the baby was in the back seat so he would drive safe. He couldn’t lose the other person he loved. Pulling out, Lance headed towards the unknown fate that waited for him at the hospital.
When he arrived, he grabbed the bag and car seat and rushed inside. As he entered the waiting room, he was greeted with the sight of all of his friends. Everyone was seated except for Shiro, who paced the room. Matt’s eyes followed Shiro’s distressed footsteps with a sad look in his eyes. Pidge, tired from being woken up from their daily nap, was dozing on and off against Allura’s shoulders as Hunk gripped Shay’s hand tightly in his. Lance’s bare feet slapped the tile floor harshly as he rushed over to them.
“What happened? Where Keith? Is he okay?” Lance rushed the words out of his mouth, afraid that if he didn’t his voice wouldn’t hold. Matt stood slowly and walked Lance to the line of chairs. Pushing him down, Matt turned to grab Shiro’s arm. Shiro seemed surprise until he noticed Lance’s red eyes and quivering lip. He ran his hands over his face as he tried to take a deep breathe. Pike made a soft noise as Lance set the car seat down.
“Keith was in an accident.” Shiro started quietly. “He was on his way home from Lord knows where when a car ran him off the road. He flipped his bike and hit his head hard enough to knock his helmet off. I don’t know much about his condition. All they have told me is that he hasn’t regained consciousness yet.” Shiro sighed as he looked up, trying to stop the tears. Lance gasped for breath as he gripped his hair.
“He was leaving my house. We-We went back to my house to watch a movie after we ate and-and by the time he left it was dark. I shouldn’t of let him go. I-I should had made him stay. This is all my fault!” Lance pulled on his hair harder as he folded in on himself. The room fell quiet at Lance’s break. Slowly, people began to move. Allura nudged Pidge up as she crossed the room. She pulled Lance into a bone crushing hug as she shushed him softly. Pidge pulled open their computer and started to type in it frantically. Hunk and Shay looked at each other as they whispered out a plan. Matt gripped Shiro’s hand and counted to bring Shiro’s breathing back to normal. When Lance had calmed down enough to be reasoned with, Hunk and Shay walked over. Picking up the car seat, Hunk patted Lance’s shoulder.
“We will take Pike back to my house. Call me if anything comes up.” Lance nodded as he handed Shay the diaper bag.
“Please be careful.” Lance’s voice broke as he tried to smile at his friend. Hunk patted his shoulder once more before reaching out for Shay’s hand. Lance watched them walk away until the doors closed behind them. Pidge pushed up their glasses as they turned to the group.
“It was no accident. I hacked the police files and got the eye witness accounts. There’s no mistaking the car that was described. It was Nyma.” Pidge looked at Matt with stone cold eyes. “We are going to the police department now. We may get in trouble for messing with her car, but she is not getting away with this.” Matt looked up at Shiro before nodded at Pidge. Matt gripped Shiro’s hand tighter before letting go. He reached up and pulled Shiro down into a kiss.
“I’m just one call away. I love you.” Shiro kept his eyes close as he nodded.
“I love you too.” Matt kissed him one last time before he walked away. Allura grabbed Pidge’s hand and kissed their knuckles.
“Be safe,” Allura sighed as Pidge kissed the top of her head. The Holts rushed out of the door. Shiro sat down next to Lance. “I’m going to go call Coran.” Allura stood up and walked to the nearby hallway.
“Now all we can do is wait.” He sighed as he leaned his head back against the wall. Lance as he looked down at his hands.
It seemed like hours before the doctor emerged from the back. By that time, Allura had left to go see what the situation was with the police and the Holts. Lance was fighting sleep when the door was pushed open.
“Family of Mr. Kogane?” The doctor called out. Shiro was up on his feet before Lance could even blink. The air turned heavy as Lance leaned forward to hear the doctor. “He sustained some minor wounds across his body, but our biggest concern is the damage done to his head. We do not know the exact amount of damage done until he wakes up, but we fear that some of it may not be reversible.” Shiro nodded as he squared his shoulders.
“Can we see him?” He asked with a surprisingly strong voice. The doctor shook his head.
“I’m afraid not right now. He has just come out of surgery. The left side of his face had many broken bones that need repair. Once he is out of the recovery room, a nurse will come to get you.” Shiro nodded as the doctor turned and left. As Shiro turned to sit back done, Lance felt as is his body was turned to lead. He couldn’t move or think properly. He couldn’t even remember if he was breathing or not. Shiro must of noticed his situation for he grabbed Lance’s forearm and pulled him up.
“Let’s go for a walk.” He whispered as he pulled Lance down a hall. They walked the maze called a hospital until they arrived at the cafeteria. Shiro ordered two coffees and forced one into Lance’s hands. “If Keith doesn’t wake up soon, I want you to go home and get some rest.” Shiro spoke firmly with a soft undertone.
“No.” Lance bit out over the coffee lid.
“No!” He slammed the coffee down, splashing some up on his hands, lightly burning his skin. “It’s my fault he’s in this hell hole. The most I can do is be here when he wakes up.” Lance looked away from Shiro’s eyes. “What else am I to do? Go home and wallow in self pity?” He knew he should be so harsh, but he was hurting. “If I hadn’t come here in the first place Keith wouldn’t be hurt. Nyma would never got mad or jealous and would never had run him off the road. He would be fine if I never showed up.” Why should he be nice if the world wasn’t nice to him?
“Lance,” Shiro sighed. “Keith wouldn’t be fine if you never showed up. He would had continued to fall in and out of depression just like he had before. With you and Pike around, he has something to fight for again. You reminded him why life is worthwhile.” Shiro drank the rest of his coffee before meeting Lance’s eye. “Go home. Sleep, shower, do something. Frankly, you look like shit. You don’t have shoes or a shirt and the bags under your eyes are bigger than Keith’s ever been, and he is an insomniac.” Lance glanced down. Shiro reached across the table and started to whip the coffee off Lance’s hands. “We don’t know when he will wake up. It could be minutes or it could be days. Butt if you are not here, I swear I will call you the second anything changes. Keith would want you to take care of yourself and Pike first.” As Shiro spoke, Lance started to notice how tired he was and how much the coffee had hurt. “Keith needs you, but he needs you to be functioning and at your best. So, take care of yourself, if not for yourself than for Pike and for Keith.” Looking at his red spotted hands, Lance nodded slowly.
“Call me no matter what. I-I just need to know that he is going to be okay. I can’t lose him.” Shiro nodded as Lance stood up. “I’m going to go call Hunk to get Pike.” He said as he walked away. Shiro watched him as his heart felt heavy. These poor boys had been through too much.
When Lance go to Hunk’s place, Hunk forced him into a chair and started to treat the burns on his hands. Then, he made Lance lay down and watched over him until he fell asleep on the sofa. Pulling a blanket over him, Hunk silently prayed that his friends would be okay in the end.
Sadly, Keith did not wake up during the night and, as expected, Lance was back in the waiting room the first thing in the morning. Laptop in hand, Lance started to work on the magazine ads that were due soon to keep his mind off of things. Allura played with Pike quietly after making Shiro leave to go get some sleep. Before Shiro left, she informed them that the Holt siblings and Hunk would have to remain at the police station for a while for questioning. She also said that the police would be calling Lance soon to get his side of the story.
Lance pulled up the ads pictures for Legendary Life magazine. They were doing an issue for LGBTQ+ matters and wanted to feature Allura’s company in the magazine. They wanted to include a few of the previously used photos along with an interview with Allura with the two full page images. The images would be the opening for the article, which was to be titled “One Love, One Life, One Family”. Scanning through the lines of picture of Matt and Shiro, Lance decided on one where Shiro held Matt in his arms. The brilliant bouquet of flowers hung from Matt’s hand at his side as his other arm wrapped around Shiro’s neck. The two had their eyes close as the leaned towards each other to touch their noses together lightly. Lance smiled at the picture as he toned down the colors slightly and adjusted the lighting until it had a soft, holy glow to it. He then typed out the words “One Love” in a curly font and colored them white. Dragging the words up, he placed them on the picture above Shiro’s head. He then reopened the picture file and scrolled down until he reached the ones of Pike, Keith and him. He froze for a moment when he saw Keith’s face, unharmed, awake, and happy. Drawing in a quick breath, he clicked on the photo of Keith and himself lifting Pike up by his arms. Keith had that soft smile on his face as he glanced down at Pike, who was caught mid-giggle. Lance smiled a little as he saw the love that was present in both Keith’s and his eyes. Giving the picture the same heavenly glow, Lance moved the white “One Life” words above their hands. As he typed out the “One Family” words across the bottom of both pictures, Lance wondered if Keith and him could still have a life where they gave Pike a complete family. Finishing off the pages with a muted rainbow banner, Lance sent the pages off the Allura’s company email for approval.
Closing the laptop, Lance took Pike from Allura so she could get some rest. He set Pike on his lap and smoothed down his hair. It seemed with each passing day, Pike was growing up. Lance smiled sadly at the thought that soon Pike wouldn’t be a baby anymore. Lance moved his hands in front of them both and started to teach Pike a new sign. This sign brought tears to his eyes for it meant so much more than the name it stood for.
It would be three more day until Keith woke up. By that time, Lance had gone to the police station and told them how Nyma tended to be abusive in their relationship and how she threatened to take Pike away from him. With Keith still out, the trial would have to wait, but the police were in the process of arrest Nyma as Lance and Shiro sat in the hospital’s waiting room. The Holts and Hunk were let off with a warning since Nyma threatened Lance and since no one was harmed by their modifications.
Lance was running through signs with Pike when the doctor came out. He walked right over to Shiro and Lance with a soft smile.
“Keith is awake. So far, most of the test have come back with wonderful results. By some miracle, there is no damage to his brain. But, I must warn you before you go back. When the bones around his eye socket broke, there was damage done to his eye. Most of the damage can not be repair and it is likely that he will not regain sight in his left eye.” They both nodded as the doctor directed them to stand. “Now, if you promise to be calm, I can left you in to see him.” He looked over at Lance. “Just out of curiosity, what is your relation with Mr. Kogane?” Lance stuttered about for an answer as Shiro laughed.
“He’s Keith’s special someone.” The doctor nodded as led him to Keith’s room.
“I did not want to assume. My husband has been trying to get me to stop depending on my ‘gaydar’ as he says.” The doctor pushed the door open and let them in. Shiro entered first and greeted Keith with a soft ‘Hey’. Lance stopped for a moment before turning to the doctor.
“Thank you.” He said as he shifted Pike higher up his hip and walked through the door. Keith laid on a bed covered in white sheets. He only had a few wires and tubes connected to him, but Lance knew that this number was much lower than it had previously been. White and beige bandages covered various parts of Keith’s body and a black brace covered his left wrist. Half of Keith’s face was covered in bandages, but it did not stop his smile from pulling up when he saw Lance. Walking over to the bed, Lance reached for Keith’s hand, holding it tight in his.
“Hey, good-lookin’.” He smiled softly as he whispered. “Decided you didn’t look bad-ass enough without a few scars?” Keith snorted as Lance sat down on the bed with Pike in his lap. Pike looked at Keith for a moment before clapping his hands and reaching out. Lance tried to discourage Pike by bouncing him lightly on his lap. Pike made a whining noise in the back of his throat as he signed something that Keith did not know. Pike stacked two ‘k’ on top of each other and then brought them to his heart. He repeated the sign before clapping and reaching out for Keith again. Lance made a startled noise as he glared down at Pike. Darn his kid for being a fast learner.
“What’s that sign for?” Keith’s voice was a little rough as he spoke. Lance meet his eyes as he felt his cheeks grow red.
“It’s your sign name. I guess he really missed you.” Lance laughed a little as he rubbed the back of his neck. Shiro barked out a laugh as Keith turned bright red. “It took awhile to figure one out, but I didn’t expect him to pick up on it so fast. I kind of based it off of the sign for babysitter, if that is okay.” Keith slowly pushed himself up more and picked up Pike. He smiled at Lance. He reached out and placed his hand on Lance’s cheek. Shiro grinned as he turned around, covering his eyes with his hand.
“Go on and kiss. Just remember we are in a hospital.” He laughed as Keith’s face turned bright red.
“Shiro!” Keith yelled as Lance giggled softly. He leaned forward and weaved his fingers into Keith’s hair. Keith sighed as Lance leaned down more and let their lips touch. Pulling away, Keith meet Lance’s gaze.
“The sign,” He spoke softly against Lance’s lips, “ It’s perfect.”
A few years passed and the bond between Keith and Lance grew. Nyma was sent to jail and was never heard from again. Shiro and Matt had a beautiful wedding where Pike was the flower boy, for no one trusted him to carry the rings down the aisle. That job was left to Black, who they knew would not through the golden bands. Just as expect, Keith never gained his eyesight back in his left eye, but that never stopped him. The kids at the daycare seemed to find the scars amusing rather than being scared of Keith’s big, bad biker persona. It probably also helped that the kids were head over heels for Keith’s service dog, Blue, who was also being trained to help Pike too.. When Pike was three, Keith moved in with them. When Pike was four, he started going to special classes in the next city over so he could start learning to read and learning more advance signing. The school also offered speech classes for Pike, but Lance turned them down. Later that night, Keith asked why. Lance looked up from the signing pamphlets he was given with a smile.
“They want Pike to adapt himself to the hearing world, but he doesn’t need too. Pike doesn’t need to be the society’s standard of normal to be wonderful.” He looked back down at the pamphlets. “Pike can decide for himself if he wants to be like them when he is older. Right now, he is perfect just the way he is.” Keith leaned over and kissed Lance soundly. He couldn’t be more in love with this man than he was right now.
One Saturday, while they all were watching a movie, Lance looked up at Keith with a nervous smile. Keith had Pike sitting in his lap and Lance leaning on his legs from the ground. Tapping Keith’s shin, he drew Keith’s attention away from the TV.
“What do you think of one day adopting him?” Lance asked softly, nodded towards Pike.
“I don’t know,” Keith started off slowly. “I never really had a home. How can I give something that I never had? Plus, I’m not the ideal image of a parent. How can I give him the home he deserves?” Keith sighed as he brushes a piece of Pike’s hair back.
“Homes don’t have to be perfect, Keith.“ Lance looked up from his place on the floor with love in his eyes. "They just have to be full of love, and I know you love him.” Keith pondered the question in silence for a moment as Pike watched the show on tv from his lap. Absentmindedly running his hands through Pike’s hair, Keith accidently grabbed his attention. Pike turned and looked up at him as he signed ‘what’. Over the years, Pike had grew use to signing and almost perfect the language at even a young age. Keith smiled and signed ‘nothing’ with a shrug of his shoulders. Pike smiled at him before turning back to the tv.
“Yeah, one day I would like him to be mine too.” Keith sighed softly as Lance stood and kissed Keith on the head. He reached over to the left of Keith and grabbed a box, bringing it into Keith’s line of sight.
“Good, cause Keith, will you marry me?”
Perfect : having all the required or desirable elements, qualities, or characteristics; as good as it is possible to be.
Their home may not had been perfect by definition, but it was perfect to them.
Summary: She hated him, for everything he had done to them, the damage he had caused, the suffering and pain he had left behind. She hated him… Didn’t she? Emilia comes face to face with the leader of the Saviours and is confronted with his true nature, which in turn has her questioning her own.
Warning/s: Eventual smut, slow burner, profanity/swearing, graphic descriptions of violence.
No gifs are made by me unless otherwise stated. All credit goes to the original creators.
The Sanctuary/The Saviours
He rolled his shoulders and grinned as a tingle shot up his spine, whilst leaning forward in the passenger seat he re-angled the rear view mirror to watch her. Dwight shot him a look from the drivers seat, but didn’t dare question him and refocused his eyes on the road.
He rubbed a gloved thumb over Lucille’s handle as he saw Emilia watch the trucks go before she turned to Rick, placing one of her small hands upon his back. The smile fell from Negan’s face and his jaw jumped as he flexed it in anger, he watched from the growing distance as Rick turned to her and embraced her, his head resting atop her chestnut hair.
He was unaware he had growled in irritation until Dwight looked at him again and uttered a quiet “Boss?” In question.
He returned the rear view mirror to its original position and reclined in his seat, his eyes unfocussed on the road ahead. He could feel Dwight’s curiosity coming from him in waves and he sighed and rotated his head to face the man, scarred side on, he admired his handiwork for a moment before speaking.
“You gotta question you wanna ask me Dwight?” He felt his fury bubbling deep within his chest. Any rise he had gotten from Rick, any victory his submission had given him, had all been snatched away as he’d watched their embrace.
Dwight must have heard that in his tone for he gulped once and gripped hard onto the steering wheel. “I was just wonderin’ why you didn’t bring her with you.”
Negan’s jaw flexed again and as her face flashed in his minds eye he swiped his lower lip with his tongue. “The Duchess?”
Dwight’s brow furrowed as he glanced sideways at him. “Err, the one who beat on Arat. I don’t know her name. The English bitch.”
Negan’s grip on Lucille suddenly tightened and his gaze darkened further. He looked up in the rearview to see they were a considerable distance away from Alexandria and made his decision.
“Stop the fucking van.” His voice was quiet. Deadly. Lucille was begging for a taste of flesh, even if it was the twisted, charred kind. When Dwight didn’t immediately obey he yelled again in his mangled ear, leaning forward. “STOP THE FUCKING VAN.”
The brakes emitted a high pitched whine and the tyres squealed as Dwight jumped and slammed the breaks on fast. The vehicles behind followed suit, but no one was stupid enough to come up and ask why.
He could see Dwight’s hands shaking even as they gripped the steering wheel so hard his knuckles were white.
“What. Did. You. Call. Her?” He leaned forward emphasising every word, his elbow was now propped upon Dwight’s shoulder as he ground the words out into his mutilated ear.
“I-I’m sorry Boss. I-” Suddenly Negan moved, his much larger frame pushing against Dwight, his elbow was lodged under his chin, forcing him back with a loud bang into the window. The force of the impact cracked the glass and Dwight wheezed as his air supply was cut off by Negan’s large forearm.
“Be careful Dwighty boy.” His voice was deep and rough with fury and Dwight was too afraid to meet his eyes. Too afraid he’d see the same look he’d seen there when the hot iron had approached his skin.
Then as quickly as he had moved he was back in place again, nonchalantly tapping his fingers on Lucille’s handle as he whistled a tune and looked out the window as if nothing had happened. Dwight rubbed at his neck as he sat up, his chest heaving with terrified gasps, and released the hand break.
Once they were moving again Negan spoke, his tone devoid of the fury Dwight had just been witness to.
“Her name is Emilia.” His voice caressed the name as if enjoying the taste of it in his mouth. “And I didn’ bring her back yet because when I do, it will be because she chose it.”
Dwight frowned again, worried about inciting Negan’s wrath again but also not quite understanding what he meant. “You think she’ll come voluntarily?”
Negan chuckled, his dark, rich tone filling the air around them. “Oh I know she will. I’ll just need to give her a little nudge in the right direction.”
Dwight kept his eyes on the road, probably wondering what plan Negan was concocting, but he most certainly wasn’t brave enough to ask.
Once they reached The Sanctuary Negan was quick out of the vehicle, swinging Lucille beside him as he barked orders to the men unloading their loot. As he made his way past the walkers out front, deliberately not breathing through his nose so he didn’t catch their rotten stench, everyone who saw him dropped to their knees. He couldn’t remember when that had begun, but he liked it, it gave him power over them and showed newcomers what behaviour was expected of them.
The sudden kneeling continued as he made his way through the halls, Lucille firmly gripped in his hand, he ignored anyone he may come across as he made his way to his office. Once he closed the door behind him he laid Lucille on the couch and poured himself a drink from the crystal decanter which was always kept filled to the top on his desk. He raised the whiskey to his mouth and took a deep drink, once he had swallowed he released the breath he felt as though he had been holding since he’d first seen her.
He didn’t miss a thing and certainly hadn’t missed her as she’d bashed her way past fat Joey on her way out of Rick’s house. Hm, what had she been doing in there anyway? She’d told him they weren’t a thing but they seemed awfully fucking close to him.
She had been a breath of fucking fresh air in that place and he’d be lying if he didn’t admit to wanting to fuck her as soon as he’d seen her. But then she’d approached them and looked at him with such disgust that is interested was piqued beyond that. Hell as soon as she’d fuckin’ talked he knew he was screwed. That voice. That accent.
She had held herself like fucking royalty and his brain had immediately coined her ‘The Duchess’. She was too badass for ‘Princess’ and deserved far more than his regular phrase of ‘doll’.
He chuckled to himself quietly as he took another drink, letting the whisky burn his through as he recalled her first words to him.
‘Go fuck yourself.’
She really was something and he wanted her bad. He’d very nearly done as Dwight suggested, swooped her up and stolen her for himself, but he knew he had to be patient. She may not realise it but his charm had worked, he knew he was a charismatic motherfucker naturally, but when he put real effort into it… Hell even the larger chick had been creaming her pants for him.
Though that was probably due to her not seeing a lot of action. He’d bet The Duchess saw plenty.
His dark brows furrowed as he tried to get that picture out of his brain, he couldn’t think of her in that type of situation with any man. Which drove home to him just how screwed he was. He’d been in Alexandria, in her company for a couple hours and here he was jealous over her imaginary conquests.
He drained his glass and slammed it on the table. And to think he had to wait a whole week before he could see her again. He thought of her gleaming chestnut hair and her stormy blue eyes, he was sure a bruise would be coming up on that smooth cheek of hers, her heart shaped face would be marred by purple, green and blue and her perfect little lower lip would swell.
He smirked slowly to himself as he turned and look at Lucille in contemplation. He picked her up and made his way out of the door, he had things to do, besides perhaps they could pay a visit to Alexandria a little earlier than planned to keep Rick on his toes. Of course that would bring the added benefit of seeing her a little sooner.
And in the meantime he had the resource right in these very walls to try and find out more about his Duchess.
It turned out that said resource was galvanised from seeing his boyfriend Rick and had been pounding away at his cell door for hours. He’d had to have a conversation with Dwight about that. Even tried to tempt him with Sherry… He hadn’t caved, but also hadn’t accepted the invitation the fuck anyone else willing. Then showing what a good boy he was, ran off to do grunt work and left fat Joey in charge of Daryl, after Dwight had left Negan went to have a conversation with his favourite prisoners current babysitter.
“Boss!” Joey dropped to his knees quickly, his considerable weight making a loud thud and one of Negan’s eyes squinted in an almost wince as he thought about the pain that would have caused his knee.
“Get up fat Joseph, I want to test whether our guest is gettin’ the way things fuckin’ work around here.” He swung Lucille so she balanced on his shoulder. Joey glanced between her and Negan in fear, sweat breaking out on his upper lip.
He watched from afar as Joseph left the door unlocked and walked around the corner, pursed his lips and sighed in disappointment as Daryl made a break for it. He followed from a distance, bemused at his escape attempt until he glanced around a corner and saw Sherry whispering into his ear. All amusement vanished as rage descended, he watched intrigued as she told him to go back, told him it could get worse.
Damn fucking right it could, and would for her if she wasn’t honest with him.
He remained where he was as Daryl fled round the corner, heard her heels click on the floor as she approached, she came round the corner and slammed straight into his chest. He didn’t put his hands out to steady her as she stumbled but instead remained impassive as he looked at her.
“Why hello, my darlin’ wife.” Irony laced the word and her eyes shot up to his. She wasn’t dumb by any means but it took a little longer than he would have expected for her to get it. When understanding finally lit her eyes he only quirked a questioning eyebrow at her and rocked on his heels, Lucille still balanced on his shoulder and his other hand in his pocket.
“Daryl is out.” She said reluctantly. “He went that way.” She pointed behind her and Negan only nodded once as he looked over her appearance.
“You look like a schoolgirl in that sundress, go fuckin’ change it.” He barked and stormed past her as she flinched backward. He knew why he was being an asshole to her. Her eyes held only fear and resignation, not the fire and defiance he had seen only hours earlier in those stormy blue eyes which he was sure would stay with him. That sundress would have been perfectly acceptable to him in the hours before he’d seen Emilia in her white tank top and those tight camo pants which were perfectly moulded to her ass and thighs, leading down to her black leather boots.
He stood for a moment and closed his eyes at the memory, tracing every curve in his minds eye. Boy was he glad she hadn’t seen fit to zip up her jacket.
He jolted back to himself as he heard a door slam and continued on his way outside. He was really fucking disappointed in Daryl, but maybe he still had a chance to redeem himself.
Negan whistled as he walked slowly up to the circle of his man surrounding Daryl. He’d made it as far as the bikes, but the keys weren’t kept in them so had never stood a chance of getting away on one.
He meandered his way into the centre of the circle, like he had all the time in the world. He held Daryl in his gaze and smirked as he swung Lucille to his side and asked “Who are you?”
Fat Joey answered immediately “Negan.”
“Who aaare you?” He pointed her over his shoulder at whoever stood behind him, his eyes never wavering from Daryl as the answer came from behind. “Negan.”
“Who are ya?” He held both hands out to his sides and bounced once in apparent glee.
A chorus of “Negan” echoed around them and a self satisfied smirk bloomed on his face.
“You see that? I am everywhere and this was your shot to prove to me that that fundamental fact was sinking in, and you failed. Which sucks as your life was about to get so much cooler!” He remained facing Daryl but spoke to Fat Joey when he asked “Isn’t that right?”
“Damn right.” Fat Joey repeated, a conceited, sly smirk turning the corners of his mouth up.
“Now Dwight gave you some options.” Negan said feeling both impressed and irritated by Daryl’s composure. “I don’t think you get it yet so I’m gonna break it down for you. One, you wind up on the spike and you work for me as a dead man. Two you get outta your cell and you work for points but you’re gonna wish you were dead, or three… You work for me, you get yourself a brand new pair of shoes and you live like a king! Choice should be pretty obvious, you should know, there is no door number four. This is it. This is the only way.”
Negan sucked his teeth thoughtfully. “Fair enough if you haven’t quite made your mind up yet, it’s a big decision, I understand. But i’m feeling generous so I’m willing to give you a little more time to think… Perhaps in a better room with food beside dog meat sandwiches? If you can give me some information.”
The men around Daryl briefly glanced at their leader, they hadn’t heard this part before. This little test was usually part and parcel of breaking someone, at this point most people agreed to join or went back into their cells listening to ‘Easy Street’ on repeat until they cracked. No one else had been offered more comfortable lodgings whilst they made up their mind in exchange for information. Whatever it was, the boss must want it bad.
“Yeah?” Daryl asked, lifting his chin defiantly as he glared at Negan through his swollen eyes and unwashed hair. “What you wanna know?”
Negan span on his heel and chuckled, swinging Lucille around with him. “Emilia.” Negan watched Daryl carefully and he saw the younger mans reaction, saw his eyes narrow and his jaw clench. “I wanna know everythaang there is to know about her. You willin’ to trade?”
It seemed even the mention of her name had injected more courage into Daryl and Negan felt his blood began to boil again, maybe he had her lover right here… He could open up the position in one fell swoop if that was the case. Everyone could see Daryl wasn’t going to talk, his extended silence only confirmed this.
“Screw it.” Negan spat before taking Lucille in both hands and swinging hard and suddenly toward Daryl’s face. He didn’t even blink.
“Wow! You don’t scare easy! I love that. But Lucille…” He raised the barbed wire baseball bat under Daryls nose. “Well it kinda pisses her off, she finds it to be…” He waved her around as if he was searching for the right word. “disrespectful. Lucky for you she’s not feeling too thirsty today…”
“But I am.” Negan leaned close, whispering menacingly into Daryl’s ear, his face was stone cold fury and a weaker man may have crumbled. “So i’m gonna go get me a drink!”
He laughed as he turned away and made his way back inside the factory, whistling as he heard fists connecting with flesh as his boys took Daryl down. He was irritated that he hadn’t managed to get any further information on The Duchess, but he wasn’t surprised that she inspired such loyalty.
Hell he didn’t even know why he was suddenly so interested in her, maybe it was the thrill of the chase, or how she looked at him like she fucking despised him. But interested he was.
Benjie Flipperboi is accustomed to getting his hands dirty on early 70s Japanese iron. But he’s decided to branch out on his latest build—an amazing Ducati cafe racer called ‘Velocita D’Epoca.’ Working with a tired and neglected Ducati 900 SS/SP found for a bargain price, the @benjiescaferacer crew stripped the Ducati completely before starting with a new, aggressively angled rear subframe. The Norton-inspired tank was next on their list, mounted low in the front to partly cover the trellis frame.
The seat and tail are a one-off carbon fiber unit, and the headlight was hand-hammered. The clip-ons are unique and you’ll find no linkages for the foot controls. It’s old school engineering at its finest and that makes it one of our latest Bikes Of The Week.
Hit the link in our bio to see more, plus the other four killer builds that made the cut.
#ducati #900ss #caferacer #benjiescaferacer #bcrdesigns #motorcycle #bikeexif
Photography: @blacksheepmanila and @13luckymonkey
Here’s a little thingy I did for @reylosanctuary because they were kind enough to write me an incredible ficlet that you can read here ! I hope you like it <3 and thank you again for taking the time to create such a great piece!
Each encounter with the Commander never mirrored the last. He enjoyed playing with you. You were a fascinating toy for him, an experiment waiting in his bed.
Tonight he left you blindfolded and ordered you to sit on your knees. As per usual, you had no idea what his intentions were, but you supposed that was part of the thrill. After what seemed like hours, you heard the faint thud of his boots, followed by weight shifting on the mattress.
Broad, leather digits found their way through your hair, gathering the strands around your face and balling it into a single fist. He gave a quick tug, tipping your head back against his chest, your feet fully tucked under your rear. From this angle, you were entirely exposed to him–your body accented by the faint lighting of his quarters.
He relaxed his grip, and you heard him sigh in satisfaction, admiring your figure as one palm cupped your face, thumb sliding between your lips in coercion. You obliged, parting them quickly to welcome him. You let your tongue glide over the rough seams of his glove, scraping your teeth along the tip. He pressed in further, forefinger stroking your face in silent appreciation when he began to hear you gag each time he stroked against your uvula. His other hand snaked down the dip between your exposed breasts, trailing down to your stomach.
“Perfect. So obedient–such a good little kitten, aren’t you?” his voice was barely a whisper–more hot breath against your skin than anything. You nodded against his intrusive finger lightly in response, and he rubbed along your tongue, collecting the saliva pooling inside your mouth.
When he was satisfied, he drew his digit away, using the fluids from your mouth to lubricate his next two fingers. His other hand grazed further down your torso–pausing at the hip and tracing dangerously close to your folds. Just enough to make you arch further into him, whimpering when they danced along your thigh instead. You rolled your hips again and he skated his soaked fingers down directly to your aching sex, giving it a light smack. Typically it would have felt softer against his bare hand, but the material bound around it made you yelp and with the unforgiving sting.
He repeated the process again, “Enough, pet, that’s not how my whore asks.”
You bit back another whimper, settling your hips and allowing him to continue his teasing. Instead, you tried concentrating on the feeling of your saliva leaving thin trails around the sensitive flesh at your center. How it left moist chills behind with the rough threads catching every so often on your slit. Finally, you felt a prodding finger dip inside, stroking at the hood of your clit and slithering down to your entrance. Another digit joined that and he pumps into you quickly, hooking up over your pubic bone, running his fingertips over the nerves.
“I’m not sure which end of you is drooling more for me,” he drug his hand away from you, pulling an obscene amount of liquid with it, “maybe you should taste it to find out.”
And with that he pushed those fingers past your lips, letting you taste the sharp yet sweet juices. You drank it down like it was the only thing that would satiate you, licking the film you created off of his digits entirely.
“Such a good girl. So filthy, so needy to please her Commander."
You nodded in agreement and sucked his fingers all the way in, letting him rub at the roof of your mouth, thumb dragging over your upper lip.
His other hand trickled down your side and back up again, applying soft pressure to feel each protrusion of your ribs. When he made it to the curvature of your chest, he began palming at your breast and snapping your nipple down with his thumb.
The touch was so gentle, yet you knew it was the calm before the storm, soon those light caresses would turn into unforgiving kneads against your skin. The small strikes he left on your cunt would become full spanks and you were certain he would leave colorful blotches of bruises over your hips, stomach and neck. Each experience was another reminder of how you belonged to him and how he needed to prove it continuously.
A/N: It’s my birthday today, and there are wonderful messages in my inbox and I’m a little bit overwhelmed by them and I have so much love and gratitude in my heart for all you precious beans, not only for your birthday wishes but your friendships and your support and your immense kindness. So here, in honor of my #dirty30, have some smut Xx
Two of the perks we’re offering are our Backer Blog and a production artbook. The production artbook is essentially a condensed, downloadable version of the blog and it will contain the production art we’re using to create this short. And we’re going to show you one of the many excellent pieces our lead animator, Avian Anderson has been working on.
Avian came to us shortly after submission deadlines with an animatic of Miss Officer, including a recording of the lines for voice actors. She wanted to know if it was enough. Zof and I were completely knocked on our butts because she nailed Miss Officer’s look, acting, and personality, added her own touches to the scenario including a background and a brief appearance by Mr. Truffles based off only a few drawings. Was it enough? She’s our lead animator for a reason and we love her to bits.
For those interested in pursuing a career in animation, many of the positions are in TV and even in film, you usually need to show you can draw on model. This means that for everything you’ve heard about plagiarism (which you should never do), you’ll need to learn how to draw the characters and style and other people’s work exactly like how they were designed by someone else These production papers usually don’t leave the studio for confidentiality reasons, but we wanted to show our process and how Avian figured out how to do a turnaround of Miss Officer from Ami’s original designs.
These is a brief breakdown of what a model sheet looks like. You usually get a front, side, ¾ and rear angle of the character, usually with examples of them in action, how to draw this part of their body, how not to draw it, what their personality is like and not like, and these are your guides for keeping the character on point. When you apply for an animation, layout, or storyboard job, you usually get a test to show you know how to do the work and you can stay on model. The better grasp you have of the characters, the less work the director has to do, the less likely you have to do retakes, and the more likely the episode gets delivered on time and on budget.
For an excellent resource on model sheets and how important it is to stick to it, you should check out The Simpsons Handbook: Secret Tips From the Pros, which is a how to draw book by the actual animation artists on The Simpsons and you get to see how much detail goes into these cartoons. If you want to see what happens when you don’t stay on model, check out the special features of The Simpsons season 1 DVD, and watch the unaired episode with the commentary on. Despite how Mr. Brooks feels, I think it’s an excellent experimental take on The Simpsons, but I respect why it was important for them to clean up the look. :)
In the mean time, thank you Avian for your brilliant model sheet! Stay tuned for more art updates!
Older model of the 1911′s that Auto Ordnance sold before I believe Kahr took over production. Note the slightly angled rear slide serrations and adjustable sight. The wrap-around Pachmayr grips always make me think of the much bigger LAR Grizzly 1911. (GRH)