rear-shock

college boyfriend!wonwoo;

Originally posted by hoshihoshy

  • my first piece for wonwoo!!! for this request
  • for some reason i was kinda struck with this idea of wonwoo while i was plotting and i can’t really get it out of my head
  • so in college, wonwoo is… elusive

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Misha’s first car

“This was my first car, a 1979 Toyota Corolla. I loved this car. It was so rusted out that the rear shocks had punched through the paper-thin chassis so the car was just riding on springs. The benefit of this was that if I did hit a bump, the rear of the vehicle would actually bounce like a ball and I would lose control of the car pretty much every time I drove it. Also, it was so rusted out that it was extremely light. So much of the metal of the frame and paneling had disappeared that if I drove as efficiently as possible (not exceeding 50 mph, anticipating stops, accelerating slowly), I could get 42 miles per gallon. That’s pretty damn good for a ’79 station wagon.

I always remember it as being blue with faux wood paneling, but the truth is shortly after I got it I patched the many gaping holes in the paneling with spray foam insulation and an epoxy called “Bondo", and then I spray painted the whole thing and it ended up looking like this. Interestingly, this paint job not only helped slow the spread of rust on this car, but it also encouraged the police to pull me over all the time. On one trip from New Jersey to Massachusetts I was pulled over four times: once for having a hairline crack in the windshield, once for driving (I kid you not) 56mph in a 55 zone, once so that the officer could ask me if I was lost, and once for legitimately driving way too fast. In three of these instances, the car was searched for drugs. But don’t worry, I was very straight-laced. I never had any drugs in the car or anywhere else. In fact, I had only drunk alcohol a handful of times before graduating college.”

–Misha Collins (excerpt from MISHA: A concise AutoBiography)

I just love all his stories!

2

Imagine Logan not-so-discreetly touching your butt every chance he gets when you’re wearing a dress he likes on you.

**Based off of Die A Happy Man by Thomas Rhett**

You stifled a yelp as Logan’s hand once more came into contact with your rear, shooting him a shocked look, “Logan, stop!” you whispered, your cheeks flushing crimson.

He just chuckled, hooking his arm your waist and pulling you against his side, “I can’t help being an anima, baby. And I thought that red dress was enough to bring me to my knees, but that black one makes it hard to breathe.” he teased. “Besides, last night was hands down one of the best nights of my life.”

Your blush deepened and you ducked your head. “Keep your voice down. We’re in public.”

Logan grinned and hooked a finger under your chin. He dipped his head and pressed a kiss to your lips, surprisingly gentle. “I don’t care. I know that I can’t ever tell you enough that all I need in this life is your crazy love. If all I could ever do was hold your hand in mine, I could die a happy man.”

Gif Credit: Logan

anonymous asked:

13 with Mcree please! Love your writing by the way, always a joy to see it on my feed. 💙

Ah you are all far too kind to me! I hope you continue to enjoy it and that this lives up to your expectations <3


13: “I could kiss you right now!”

You and McCree dove behind cover, heavy breathing the only sound echoing through your ears. The enemy was close, too close, and you both knew it. There were too many. You took a minute to steady yourself before risking a glance at your fighting partner beside you. He looked back at you and one glimpse of the panic in his eyes told you the severity of the situation.

“What do we do?” you practically mouthed at him and he closed his eyes with a grimace. You could tell he was feeling the pressure of keeping you safe as he had promised the others. You were somewhat of the ‘child’ of the base, the newbie that everyone looked out for and was protective towards. McCree had always been your partner on missions and you knew he always felt responsible for your wellbeing despite your constant protests.

“I don’t know,” he mouthed back and you could see his hands balled up into fists in his frustration, “All we can do is run and even then we may not make it.”

You carefully reached over and opened his closed fists, nodding at him gently, trying to convey the complete trust you had in him. He nodded back before taking a breath for confidence.

“Ok, here’s what we do,” he was whispering now but the volume was so low you were lip-reading anyway, “You’re going to run straight towards the nearest safe point in a few seconds, I’m going to cover you and you are not going to argue.”

You opened your mouth to scold him for trying to protect you once again but he put a finger to your lips and shot you an urgent look. You reluctantly shut your mouth but fervently shook your head.

“You know I’m not leaving without you,” you replied firmly and he scowled at you.

“Just do as you’re told for once, Y/N.” he bit back and you visibly reared back in shock. He never took that tone with you though he might with everyone else. Despite your overwhelming desire to stop him from doing this you just nodded, already slightly scared by the new stance he was taking.

“Ok,” he said and stared at you so hard you swore you would combust at any moment, “On three…1….2….3!”

You both shot up from your hiding position and faced the enemy and you swore under you breath as you quickly counted them. Way too many. It was a good job you didn’t intend to go anywhere. You both shot, still half covered, ducking and swapping positions as you fought.

“What the hell are you doing?” he roared at you over the sound of gunfire. You even managed a laugh as you both reverted back to your usual back-to-back stance as you continued to fight off the oncoming hoard. 

“Why, saving your backside, of course!” You called out in a sing-song voice and you could have sworn you heard him growl. Slowly, you were miraculously winning this fight mainly due to both of your impressive combat skills. Soon you heard McCree’s famous line that signalled he was about to perform his Deadeye tactic. You ducked back behind the cover as he took out the remaining enemy troops before he slumped back behind the cover, satisfied the coast was clear. You sat side by side, panting as you struggled to recover from the battle.

McCree shot you a sideways glance and seemed to be struggling with an internal battle at the moment. You guessed it was probably something to do with whether he should praise your abilities or blow his fuse at your refusal to follow orders. What he eventually breathed out, however, was not something you would have predicted.

“I could kiss you right now.” he said seriously and again turned towards you. Your eyes widened in shock but only for a split second before a smug smirk plastered itself across your face.

“Then why don’t ya, cowboy?”

No sooner had you finished your sentence were his lips on yours, a hand weaving its way across your cheek and into your hair. After registering the initial surprise you felt yourself melting into him, hands suddenly on his chest as you gave in to your feelings.

He pulled away reluctantly, placing his forehead on yours and even leaning forward slightly to nuzzle your nose. You grinned.

“You know we still need to have a chat about your inability to listen to me?”

The grin dropped from your face and seemed to make its way onto Jesse’s face instead. You rolled your eyes fondly.

“I know.”

New from @arjanvandenboom of Ironwood Custom Motorcycles: ‘The Mutant,’ a 1985 BMW R80 with a unique, aggressive style of its own.
————————————————–
Paintjob inspired by @singervehicledesign
Rear shock by @hyperpro_official
Welding by @pisanggoreng1980
Exhaust mufffler by @akrapovic
Custom seat, grips and tank strap by @millerkustomupholstery
Road repair tool by @leathermanusa
Pod filters by @dnafilters_official
Bigger brake discs by @brembobrake
Speedo & front blinkers by @motogadget
Head light & tail lights by @caferacersunited
————————————————–
#bmw #r80 #bmwmotorrad #scrambler #streetscrambler #bmwcaferacer #iwcmotorcycles #makelifearide #bikeexif

9

Gifset: Jaime x Brienne - Horse Whisperer AU

Jaime Lannister always considered riding his horse Honor one of his greatest freedoms. What started out as a boy’s hobby grew to be his one anchor point in life, caught up between the family business and its practices which he would rather not take part in most of the time, family feuds, and the monotony this life comes with.

After a particularly stressful day at the office, Jaime decides to ride out into the night as the first snow starts to fall, something he loved doing ever since he was a child.

However, as he rides through the woods, Jaime has to realize that he is not the only one roaming around the groves. As it turns out, he is being followed. Jaime tries to shake the people off, but to no avail. The men reveal themselves to be former employees to Roose Bolton, one of his father’s former business partners Tywin cheated on, who lost their jobs after the Bolton-Lannister alliance broke to pieces.

The leader of the gang, a man by name Locke, want to get revenge on the Lannisters, and therefore want to go through “daddy’s favorite child” to pay Tywin back for getting them into the position they currently find themselves in, unemployed and without perspective. They try to get Jaime off the horse to beat him to pulp, but Honor starts to kick out, knocking out some of the aggressors, wanting to protect his owner. Jaime gives Honor the spurs to take off, but as they try to ride away, shots are fired. Honor rears up in shock and Jaime falls off the horse, into a ditch. The steed falls on top of him, greatly damaging particularly Jaime’s hand in the process. Frightened, the horse keeps running away, leaving Jaime in the ditch. Locke and his men take off when they hear a car in the distance, leaving Jaime to perish.

Jaime, unable to move, believes his time to be over as snow turns to rain, the ditch slowly filling and no one, about to suffocate him, absolutely no one seeing him or trying to find him.

He wakes up in hospital some time later, Tyrion sitting by his bedside, waiting for him to come around. His younger brother looks like hell warmed over, and hell indeed freezes over once Tyrion has to deliver the sickening news: They had to amputate Jaime’s hand after the accident.

Jaime emotionally detaches from everything and everyone around him. He was that hand. And now it’s all supposed to be over. Any attempt by his younger brother to consider physical therapy falls on deaf ears. Jaime talks little, is just a ghost walking, pushing anyone away, even his brother, who is apparently the only one who is not ready to give up on him.

However, their relationship has been under a strain over time, which does not at all help Tyrion’s cause. The brothers rarely saw one another for the last couple of years – because of their differences fostered by Tywin’s behavior and accusations on both sides regarding that matter. Jaime moved to the capitol while Tyrion found himself stuck at the Rock, which did not help maintain the brotherly love that once was one of the central points in both their lives when they were still younger, Jaime always protecting Tyrion while the younger brother would always have the older sibling’s back, too.

Tyrion wants to be there for his brother, knowing that, despite his insistence of the contrary, Jaime needs help. Because the man is toying with suicidal thoughts far more often than anyone would know.

One particular incident when Jaime saw Honor for the first time since the accident left the oldest son of Tywin Lannister mortified. Honor took considerable damage, is deeply traumatized, and won’t let anyone near him, not even Jaime. After he ran off, the horse ended up getting caught in barbwire, and very similar to his owner, found himself stuck for hours and hours, unable to move in the cold.

Tyrion does the one thing he is good at – he starts to research.

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Broken But Still Good//H.S - Chapter Seven

Hello loves! This chap- OMG! Is that- HOLY SHIT! You look AMAZING! I mean… WOW! Anyways, here’s the next chapter! It deals with some family issues and I’m pretty proud of the way it turned out. As always, my masterlist is linked in my bio and requests are open! Don’t be a stranger!! Love you all!! XR

Chapter Six


The week leading up to the concert was the most surreal week of my life. Harry made it a point to text me everyday, no matter what he was doing. It never ceased to put a smile on my face no matter if it was one of his horrible puns or something actually really sweet. Jason was constantly gagging at me every time I smiled down at my phone.

“Why don’t you two lovebirds just buy a horse and ride off into the sunset together already?” I rolled my eyes and lobbed a pillow across the room, hitting him square in the face. He laughed as he threw it back towards me. Before an all out pillow war could begin, a knock sounded at the door.

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anonymous asked:

Ooh these prompts are all great! I'd choose 20 if I could. Could you do 75 with Sombra please?

I’m going to start making these a little shorter as I have 110 requests and need to get through these prompts ones quickly. I’m sorry if this is shorter than you were expecting but I hope its still okay for you :)


75: “You fainted, straight into my arms. You know, if you wanted my attention, you didn’t have to go to such extremes.”

Slowly, your consciousness creeped back to you and you opened your eyes slightly a little wary of what you may see. You couldn’t quite remember when you had gone to sleep or even how since the last thing you could recall was standing in the common room chatting to a couple of your comrades. 

Now you could see three faces looking down at you, one much closer than the others, and you started to make out some of what they were saying.

“Sombra, don’t get so close you’ll scare them!” Now that was definitely Mercy.

“I’m just trying to see if they’re awake.” Ah, so the closer face was Sombra then.

“Well they’re clearly awake and confused, give them some space.” You thought that was either Jack or Gabe but couldn’t be sure. 

As you regained consciousness fully, you opened your eyes wider and all faces reared back in shock.

“Y/N, you’re awake!” Mercy cried, rushing toward you to check your temperature and pulse rate quickly.

“Wha’ happen’d?” you asked groggily and Sombra giggled.

“You fainted, straight into my arms. You know if you wanted my attention, you didn’t have to go to such extremes.”

A blush tainted your cheeks and you bit your lip nervously. Fainted? You racked your brains for what must have happened. Enough food? Check. Enough sleep? Check. Enough water? Oh. You hadn’t drank a thing all day since you were so busy running from meeting to meeting.

“I was dehydrated, I think.” you mumbled and all the faces looked on you with annoyance, however fond it may have been.

“Drink more.” Came a voice that you now knew to be Gabe’s before he sauntered off and a small smile came to your face. That was a sign of great care from him.

Before Mercy began a rant on how important it is to drink water, you pulled Sombra closer to you to whisper in her ear, a playful smile dancing on you face.

“So, what less extreme ways are there to get your attention?”

It was Sombra’s turn to blush this time.

anonymous asked:

HIIII! I really really love how you write Jazekiel and your pranks fics have me thinking about Jake wrongly accusing Ezekiel of something and Ezekiel tries to explain that it wasn't him but Jake doesn't believe him and Ezekiel is actually really upset about it but it takes Jake being a bit of an asshole to realize that Ezekiel is so affected by it.

Thanks so much! I’m glad you enjoy reading them because I really love writing them lol! I hope you enjoy this short lil thing :D

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10

——- The Mercury Cougar Boss 302   ————


—- The rarest Eliminator was the Boss 302 variant, it included all the perks of the regular Cougar Eliminator with the addition of the high-performance 290 hp 302 cubic inch Boss V8 borrowed from the Mustang.Engineers at Ford built the high performance 302 V8 by combining the Ford Windsor 302 cubic inch motor and pairing it with the Ford Cleveland (351 cubic inch) heads. Cleveland heads had larger valves, larger ports, and the same basic bolt pattern as the Windsor – although the passages for coolant did have to be modified slightly. In road-going trim this new engine could produce 290 hp at 5200 rpm with 290 lbf.ft of torque at 4300 rpm, however it could be revved right the way through to 6250 rpm.Customers who ordered the Boss 302 package had no choice but to have it paired with a close ratio 4-speed transmission and a 3.50 Positraction rear end. Power front disc brakes also came as standard, as did staggered rear shocks, 31-spline axles and nodular iron case, a rev limiter, and an 8000 RPM tachometer.The car you see here is one of the 169 original cars from 1969, it was sold new at Duick Lincoln Mercury in Bowling Green, Kentucky and it’s still wearing its correct Competition Orange paintwork with the correct black interior. It’ll be interesting to see where the bidding ends up when it rolls across the block with Mecum on at the Indianapolis Auction in May, if you’d like to read more about it or register to bid you can —-

fic: just a little bit

[obi-wan/anakin] pg. 1942 words.

Anakin took a deep breath and leaned into Obi-Wan’s space. Obi-Wan kept his ground and arched a brow at him. This was curious.

‘I like being tied up,’ Anakin whispered conspiratorially.

Obi-Wan blinked. ‘I beg your pardon?’

a/n: obikin week! secrets/confession. just a really silly thing. 

ao3 or 

-

They were on their way back to their respective bedrooms when Anakin stopped Obi-Wan with a hand on his shoulder. Obi-Wan glanced back at him expectantly. Anakin stared at Obi-Wan, eyes wider than normal.

‘Yes, Anakin?’ prompted Obi-Wan. He was tired, jittery, and felt cluttered with emotions. That was unacceptable in the middle of a delicate mission such as the one they were embroiled in (not that physical and emotional exhaustion was any less dangerous in a literally explosive environment). A bit of meditation would do wonders before heading off to bed - as soon as his former Padawan saw it fit to let him go.

Anakin took a deep breath and leaned into Obi-Wan’s space. Obi-Wan kept his ground and arched a brow at him. This was curious.

‘I like being tied up,’ Anakin whispered conspiratorially.

Obi-Wan blinked. 'I beg your pardon?’

Shrugging, Anakin’s hand slid off to clasp behind his back. 'It’s no big deal. I mean, some people like to do it doggy style, others prefer missionary, and I fancy being tied up.’

'You - ’ Obi-Wan pinched the bridge of his nose and asked the Force for an extra dose of patience. 'What are you talking about, Anakin?’

'I was just sharing information that I haven’t told you before,’ Anakin explained, smiling at Obi-Wan as if Obi-Wan was the foolish one between them. Somehow.

Obi-Wan pinched the fold of skin harder; it was starting to help. 'Why in Force’s name do you think I want to know that?’

Anakin smiled in a rather patronising way. 'You said it yourself: we need to trust each other more.’

'And you think telling me that you like being tied up is a road to trust, do you?’

'Well, yeah.’ Anakin looked bewildered. 'I also like getting spanked, although the first time, I have to admit, wasn’t that much fun, but it was only because - ’

'Sith’s balls, Anakin, it’s impolite to suddenly force knowledge regarding your sexual proclivities to someone unwilling to know them!’

Anakin reared back in shock, placing a hand on his chest. 'You don’t want to know?’ he asked, sounding utterly crushed.

'No! I mean, yes, I absolutely do not.’

'But,’ Anakin looked bewildered, 'I want to tell you. I trust you, Obi-Wan.’

Obi-Wan wiped a hand down his face. 'Force, Anakin, are you doing this to get back at me for saying that to you?’

The furrow between his eyebrows deepened. 'Get back at - of course not, Master!’ He grabbed Obi-Wan’s hand and held it tightly to his chest. 'I would never. Well, alright, normally I would, but not about this. This is sacred between us.’

'Your spanking?’ said Obi-Wan, weary.

'This,’ he gestured between them, 'trust between you and me. It is one of the most precious things to me, Master. You are priceless. I would never take that for granted or make a joke at its expense.’ Anakin stuck out his lower lip at him. 'Please believe me.’

Obi-Wan was worryingly weak against that face. If only Anakin could wear a different one. Ridiculous, he knew, but even Jedi weren’t immune to pleading eyes and pouting lips.

Pleading eyes that were just slightly dazed and pouting lips that were stained even redder with wine. Reaching out, Obi-Wan cupped Anakin’s cheek in his palm. Anakin sighed happily and leaned into the touch.

'Anakin, look at me.’

Anakin did, soft and unfocused.

'Did the Ambassador give you something to drink? Something other than the berry wine at the start of dinner?’ It would explain the sense of frazzled energy buzzing under his skin. It was likely coming from Anakin, leaking through their bond. Usually, Obi-Wan’s shields were ironclad but he had decided to keep their bond open for the length of this particular mission. Obi-Wan wouldn’t necessarily be affected in the same way if Anakin had taken something, but it would harder to manage the overflow. He steadied his shields but the sensation remained. Worrying, that.

'He refilled my cup,’ said Anakin, taking two steps directly into Obi-Wan’s personal space. 'It was delicious. I loved it. Kind of bitter with sweet notes, just like when I don’t spit but - ’

A blush scorched Obi-Wan’s cheeks and he yanked his hand away, coughing into it. 'Enough, Anakin,’ he said, knowing from the Force that they were alone in this stretch of corridor but glancing around anyway to make sure.

Anakin took Obi-Wan’s chin in his fingers and tilted his face up. The haziness in his eyes sharpened at the edges as he stared down at Obi-Wan. 'And you, Master? What do you like?’

Obi-Wan wrapped his fingers around Anakin’s wrist, keeping him still. 'Meditation, Anakin, I like that. The Code, too.’

'Oh, I’m sure we can come up with a few more things you might enjoy,’ said Anakin, a rumble coming into his voice.

'My former Padawan not accepting untested drinks in the midst of a negotiation with a semi-hostile Neutral party is something I rather want to happen.’

Anakin moved even closer until he hovered over Obi-Wan. 'But don’t you ever think about a tongue in your arse, Master?’ asked Anakin, earnest and concerned, as if Obi-Wan’s lack of imagination was a failing.

Obi-Wan tried to keep his expression indifferent but there was no helping the fierce blush conquering his face. He firmly pried away Anakin’s hold on his chin and may have squeezed his wrist harder than necessary.

'No, Anakin, I’ve never thought about it.’ Now, trying it is a different matter altogether. Quiet, Kenobi.

Anakin let go of Obi-Wan’s jaw, and Obi-Wan breathed a quiet sigh of relief which turned into a rather obvious groan when Anakin’s hand made a detour into Obi-Wan’s hair. ‘You’re drugged,’ said Obi-Wan, mostly to himself, and tried to ignore how Anakin was now combing through his hair. ‘The prudent course of action would be to use the Force to burn through it but we don’t know the substance and dosage our lovely host gave you.’

Anakin nodded. ‘Fucking while your high can be enjoyable with the right spice.’

That was too much insight into Anakin’s extracurricular activities than Obi-Wan wanted to learn. He would never think of controlling Anakin’s actions but it was his lifelong dream that Anakin would learn to be even just a little bit sensible. Through osmosis, if nothing else.

Something must show on his face because Anakin gave a lopsided smile and said, ‘You know I’m clean, Master. One good thing about routine examinations after every mission. Just means I can be messy again afterwards.’

‘That’s not exactly reassuring, my dear, but I’ll take it.’

‘Oh, I bet you can – ’

‘Anakin!’

Anakin grinned unrepentantly.

Sighing, Obi-Wan pushed Anakin’s fringe back from his face and let the soft curls sift between his fingers. ‘It’s too dangerous to leave you alone tonight. Force knows what’ll happen if you wander unsupervised and come across someone less than kind.’

‘I wish you’d be less kind to me, Master,’ said Anakin, a wistful note layered into his voice. ‘It makes what I think I’m going to do too difficult.’

Ignoring him would be the wisest thing to do at the moment. Obi-Wan gently uncurled Anakin’s fingers from his hair and gave a small pat to the back of his hand. ‘There, let’s go.’ A different mood fell over Anakin as Obi-Wan led them to his chambers, the exuberance twisting into something with more of an edge. The silence grated at Obi-Wan’s nerves and he kept an alert eye on his surroundings. Obi-Wan prodded at their bond and frowned; it was still heightening his own emotions. It was inconceivable that their host would jeopardise the armistice, although drugging a Jedi Knight, not to mention a prominent General in the war, was tantamount to treason. As far as Obi-Wan could tell, Anakin was given something to lower his inhibitions in hopes that the right (or wrong, in this case) person would find him and pry secrets from his loose tongue. Obi-Wan recalled Ambassador Eik’s displeased expression when Anakin had turned down further conversation to accompany Obi-Wan back to their rooms and was glad for once that Anakin enjoyed shadowing him so much. Something much more sinister could have happened to him. Obi-Wan’s fingers twitched for his lightsaber and he crossed his arms.

Fortunately, they made it to Obi-Wan’s bedroom without trouble. Obi-Wan searched through the Force and found no immediate threats inside. Still, the tension lingered on his shoulders as he took off his outer robe and draped it over the back of a chair. Anakin threw himself on one of the lounges in the sitting room, boots digging into the soft pillows.

‘Must you, Anakin?’

‘When you keep making that face, yeah.’

‘It’s good to know that, drugged or not, you’re still intent on making my life hard.’

The corner of Anakin’s mouth twitched. ‘I can give you hard, Obi-Wan.’

‘Shush, you. This is a serious predicament we’re in. We must report this to the Council. The repercussions of this will not be taken lightly by the Senate.’

‘Can we stop playing war for a moment?’ pleaded Anakin.

‘This isn’t a game, Anakin.’

‘I know. I just – ’ He made a frustrated noise and stared up at the vaulted ceiling. ‘I feel strange, Master.’

Concern drew Obi-Wan’s brows together. Conflicting priorities pulled at him. On one hand, there was the war and the Jedi Council. On the other, Anakin. Obi-Wan took a deep breath. ‘Strange, how?’ he asked, taking the few steps towards the sofa.

Anakin waved a hand at his head. ‘My thoughts are tangled. I know they usually are but it feels like I can say or do anything I want and there won’t be consequences. I can’t afford that.’ Anakin scowled. ‘And my kriffing head hurts as if a herd of Banthas is marching across it.’

‘I may have a solution.’

Letting out a groan, Anakin covered his face with his hands. ‘If you suggest meditation, I’ll have no choice but to bend you over my knee and spank you myself.’

They both fell silent.

‘Um. Master, I meant no disrespect.’

‘Clearly, my dear,’ said Obi-Wan dryly. He stood over Anakin’s prone form. ‘Thought about it a lot, have you?’

It was gratifying to see Anakin turn red with embarrassment. ‘I – no?’

‘We’ll have to file this away under the many, many things we should never talk about ever again.’ Obi-Wan tapped a finger thoughtfully on his elbow.

Anakin peeked through his fingers up at him.

Eventually, Obi-Wan’s shoulders drooped and he gave a resigned sigh. ‘What do I do with you, Anakin? And please don’t say I should tie you up and put a gag in your mouth because I have a feeling you’ll enjoy that.’

‘If – if that’s what you want, Master, then I would not be opposed – ’

Obi-Wan went down on his knees and placed a palm over Anakin’s mouth; he felt him squeak in surprise. Anakin’s hands fell away from his face, revealing wide, trusting eyes. ‘No more speaking, dear one. Lift your head up.’ He sat down on the sofa with Anakin’s head on his lap. Obi-Wan brushed aside a few wayward strands of his hair. ‘Good. This is what we’ll do, Anakin.’

‘What?’ asked Anakin, teeth sinking into his lower lip.

Smiling down fondly at him, Obi-Wan placed a hand on his solar plexus. ‘We’ll breathe together.’

The pout came back. ‘That’s meditation, Master,’ he pointed out.

‘For tonight, we’ll call it breathing. Close your eyes, Anakin. Go to your happy place.’

‘What if I’m already there?’ asked Anakin, lips curling up, dimple winking.

Oh, this boy will be the death of him. ‘Then the rest will be easy.’

handparty  asked:

I'm curious about how you went about lifting that Subaru Justy, I can't find any information online about how they do it.

not  a justy, a GL, i don’t know how you would do a justy as they are an anomaly even for Subaru, my lift is blocks between the body and the engine and trans crossmembers and between body and rear torsion bar and diff hanger, extended  the front and rear shocks and extended the steering shaft. that is it in a nutshell, but don’t hesitate with any more specific questions bout lifting old subies, specially if your doing it! ther is a post on my tumblr with more detailed pics of the lift kit if you search it, and THANKS FIR THE INTEREST it makes me all warm to see people dig what i done.

HTTYD Wild West AU: Wild Spirits Chapter 4

Read, Follow, Fave, and Review this on FF.net HERE
My FF.net account HERE

               Chapter 4.

               It wasn’t until late that evening that Hiccup found time to escape the forge. It was probably for the best, for by this time of day the temperature had dropped to a more bearable degree, one that sent a smooth cool breeze whistling through the prairies to cool off the sun-dried land.

               Gobber remained careful and quiet the rest of the day, not saying much of anything although some gentle looks were cast in Hiccup’s direction. Hiccup had insisted on helping out, saying he was fine enough to at least organize the messy storage room and to resize some metal shoes.

               “Take it easy, won’t you lad?” Gobber had murmured before giving Hiccup a small clap on the back, eyeing him worriedly while Hiccup gave a small smile of reassurance.

               “When don’t I?”

               Gobber snorted, “Just… careful, all right? And take Grump. Don’t want you walking by yourself.”

               Hiccup didn’t bother to remind the blacksmith that even with Grump he was still in plenty of danger. But he whistled for Pixie and just hoped that the dog would provide a bit more protection- and if not protection, at least comfort. She had scared off Snotlout earlier- with the help of Astrid- so perhaps she could fend off another.

               “See you tomorrow, Gobber.” Hiccup called out, slowly clambering aboard Grump’s back with a little grunt of discomfort. His chest tugged painfully, his sore ribs protesting at every movement he made.

               “Tomorrow.” Gobber agreed with a nod of his head. Hiccup picked up the reigns and wheeled Grump about, Pixie yipping as she took of following.

               Grump was rather disgruntled when Hiccup directed him towards the outskirts of town, off the worn path to the Sherriff’s house. After a few tugging fights, Grump relented and trotted aimlessly out of town and towards the endless land. Pixie scurried ahead, barking up pheasants and rabbits from their burrows, while Hiccup just enjoyed the ride, eyes sharp and hands fingering the lasso wrapped about the saddle horn.

               “Pix.” Hiccup whistled, the dog’s head shooting up straight and ears at the ready. “Night Fury, girl.”

               Pixie’s tongue lolled out, before she barked excitedly and took off into the grass, head to the ground and tail in the air. Hiccup and Grump followed close behind, Hiccup watching both Pixie and Grump intently for signs of other wildlife.

               It was nearing the time for the sun to dip behind the hills when Hiccup was about to deem it time to return home. They were a good fifteen miles out, and it would be long past dark when they arrived back in town, not to mention Grump was huffing in exhaustion.

               “Pixie.” Hiccup called, but the dog dove ahead in the brush, nearing the small dried canyon ahead. Hiccup held Grump back, the horse more than willing to stop for a breather.

               “Pixie!” Hiccup shouted, groaning when the dog continued running, barking and jumping until she vanished down into the canyon.

               Hiccup was about to call out once more, but a loud piercing scream halted him. Grump half reared in shock and fear, skidding to the side and jolting Hiccup’s left leg from the saddle.

               With a hiss, he slid to the ground, allowing Grump to gallop off while he watched on in despair. He sighed heavily, flinching when the scream emanated again, along with the wild barks of a dog that Hiccup knew all too well.

               He rolled over and stumbled to his feet, arms wrapped around his aching ribs as he carefully made his way to the edge of the canyon, peering down into the bowl like cove cautiously. To his amazement and joy, he saw the signs of a black horse backed against one wall. His eyes flitted about, noticing how one side had rocks crumpled, as did another area. It looked like the horse had tried escaping- but had failed, if the loose dirt and large stones were any indication.

               “Night Fury…” Hiccup whispered, gaze once again returning to the wild horse that was pressed against the wall in the shadows. To his surprise, he noticed that the horse was lying on its side, legs kicking at the small shape of Pixie who was barking fiercely.

Keep reading

Pieces of my Heart - Codas - Life and Death

Read on A03
http://archiveofourown.org/works/11876397/chapters/26817642

————–

This was going to be part of the original story but I decided to leave it out, I’ve written it for you now! More Codas coming soon!

———————


Jughead walked through the apartment door and stepped on a toy.

“Dammit,” he muttered. “Every fucking day!” He kicked the toy across the room and shrugged out of his jacket and threw it on a chair. He didn’t hear any giggling and wondered where the girls were. He kind of hoped they were out cause he needed some time alone. He had left the studio early and just wanted to chill for a bit and think. Betty suddenly came down the hall and he forced a smile on his face. Not that he wasn’t happy to see her, he just needed to be alone for a bit.

“Hi Juggie,” she said warmly, coming over and wrapping her arms around his neck. She pulled him down for a kiss and he sank into it. Not even being in a bad mood could make him not like his sexy wife’s kisses. She pulled away and noticed his tired, irritated look. “You ok?” she asked, brushing his curl back off his forehead.

“Long day,” he muttered.

“It’s 3:00,” she said with a raised eyebrow. “You usually work till 6:00”

“Bad day then,” he said, pulling away and kicking his shoes off. “Where’s Jenna?” he asked, noting the quiet. Their 2 year old was never quiet unless she was passed out and he knew she wouldn’t be napping anymore.

“Veronica has her for the night, I wanted to celebrate with you today.”

“Celebrate?” Jughead asked confused as he opened a bottle of water and took a swallow. “Did I forget an anniversary? What are we celebrating?”

“I’ll tell you over dinner at the lovely Italian restaurant,” Betty said with a smile, running her hand over his chest.

“I really don’t feel like going out Betty,” Jughead said with a sigh. “I honestly had a bad day. I wouldn’t be any good company at all.” He tried not to sound irritated but he was failing miserably and he had a hard time keeping the scowl off his face.

“I’ll cheer you up,” she said with a smile. “I have some news.”

“Well tell me here, I seriously don’t want to go out,” he said. He knew he was being an asshole, but since it wasn’t an anniversary he didn’t figure it mattered.

“I…well, I guess I can,” Betty said, suddenly seeming unsure. “Are you sure you’re ok?”

“I’m fine Betty. What’s the news?”

“Well, if you insist, and just to say again, I wanted this to be more special, but……we are going to have another baby,” she said softly, a happy smile on her face, her hand touching his face. Jughead blanked for a second and blinked at her. The fact that it was amazing news didn’t even occur to him and his worked up idiot brain reacted before he thought it through.

“How are you pregnant? Are you fucking up your birth control again?” Betty reared back in shock, her eyes filling with tears.

“What the hell Jug,” she gasped. The hurt in her eyes slammed into his brain and he felt his heart drop.

“God, Betty…..I didn’t mean….” He started to sputter and she backed away from him in anger.

“You know what, Jughead, why don’t you just stay here and mope, like you clearly want to do and I’ll just get out of your fucking hair,” she spat and slammed out of the apartment.

“Betty, wait,” he called after her. He raced to the door and she was already in the closing elevator.

“Fuck!” he muttered angrily. “FUCK!” he then yelled as he slammed the door shut. “Jesus Christ,” he sighed as he dropped onto the couch. Could this day get any fucking worse. He grabbed his phone and called her. She didn’t pick up after 5 calls so he sent texts.

— I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean what I said.
— please talk to me
— where did you go?
—Betts, I’m sorry, I promise you, i think it’s wonderful news and I’m so fucking sorry.

She didn’t reply to anything and by 6:00 he was getting a little worried. He left the apartment and got on his bike and rode around looking for her. She wasn’t at Pop’s and he headed over to Archie’s. After he knocked on the door, an angry Veronica opened it.

“Is she here?” he asked with a sigh.

“No, but she was,” V said, her eyes spitting fire. He stepped around her into the apartment.

“Where did she go? Is she ok?”

“No, she’s not fucking ok Jughead. She came here to hold Jenna for a bit and might I add, crying the entire time and I gathered it was something her idiot husband did. At first I figured that couldn’t be because I don’t remember you hurting her at all since you guys got together and this would be a first. Yet when I asked if she wanted me to call you, she told me she didn’t want to talk to you. Now why is that Jug? What the fuck did you do?”

“She didn’t tell you?” he asked slowly.

“No, she didn’t. So I’m guessing it’s something pretty personal and hurtful.”

“I just….I had a bad fucking day and I reacted badly to something she told me. I didn’t mean to, I just didn’t register what she was telling me for a minute.”

“Well what the hell did she tell you?” V wanted to know.

“That’s our deal for now. Do you have any idea where she might have gone?”

“I have no idea and honestly, from the pain I saw in her eyes, I don’t fucking know if I’d even tell you,” Veronica snapped.

“Stop being a bitch!” he snapped back. “I’m trying to find her and make it right.”

“Well you better, or I’ll kick your ass!” she said, her hands on her hips. Jughead rolled his eyes and looked around.

“Where is Jenna?” he asked.

“Archie took her for ice cream. They’ll be back in an hour.” Jughead nodded and left the apartment. He drove around for a bit and decided to check the river. It was still their favorite place to go to be alone. He let out a relieved sigh when he rode up and saw her car. He pulled his bike up next to it and killed the engine. He headed down to the water, knowing she had heard his bike. He found her at their usual spot, sitting against the rocks, only a few feet from where they had said their vows. His heart squeezed and he felt like a fucking asshole. He walked over slowly and she remained still, staring out into the water, her eyes red. He sat down next to her and pulled a knee up, resting his forearm on it.

Betty sat quietly, not looking at him. She didn’t want to look at him. His callous words had stunned her and for the first time in years, she had to stop herself from cutting her nails into her palms. She doesn’t know why he said, but it was so unlike him that it had cut especially deep. Still, as angry as she was, she wanted to move closer and borrow his heat but she remained still.

“I’m so sorry Betts. Please believe me, I didn’t mean to say what I said….I was just…..My dad came by the studio earlier,” he said quietly, his voice sounding hoarse. “My mom died yesterday.” He couldn’t have shocked her more if he tried. She turned and looked at him, saw the haunted look in his eyes and she knew it was all coming back. Everything he had worked so hard to get past and had finally gotten over a few years earlier, just came screaming back.

“Oh Juggie,” she whispered, forgetting her hurt for a moment. She turned and sat facing him, touching his face. He looked at her, his eyes shimmered with tears and regret.

“I’m sorry love, I’m so sorry for what I said. I didn’t mean it. My head was just fucked up with this and it didn’t even really register what you said and when it did, my brain forgot that it was amazing news and I just…..i’m sorry…” he said, his voice filled with sorrow. She shook her head and wrapped her arms around him and pressed close to him. Jughead wrapped his arms around her and hauled her into his lap, hiding his face in her hair. She felt him shudder and she held him tighter, hoping to ease some of his pain.

“How did she die?” she asked softly. Jughead leaned back against the rock. He was refusing to let his tears fall and his face was pained. He let out a bitter laugh.

“She killed herself.”

“Oh Christ,” Betty muttered in horror. The universe had dealt a morbid and horrifying hand of ironic justice. The woman, who over a decade earlier had told her son to kill himself, had gone ahead and taken her own advice.

“Fuck,” Jughead spat out. He lifted his hand and covered his eyes and Betty knew he was struggling to not shed tears. “God dammit,” he whispered when he couldn’t hold them in. He sat in stony silence and let them flow down his face. He clenched his jaw and stared at the river, this place of love and hate, where they shared life’s horrifying and beautiful memories.

“I keep thinking….”he began after a while. “Maybe I should have given her a chance…..”

“Jughead, don’t,” Betty said, shaking her head.

“No, really. What if she was just really lonely? I mean, if I had tried having a relationship with her…”

“Juggie, this is NOT your fault. Don’t you dare do this. Gladys chose the life she led. She chose to leave her husband and children behind and she came to you to apologize and you forgave her. She accepted your forgiveness and this is not on you. If she had any more regrets, it wasn’t on you,” Betty insisted. Jughead wiped his face and lifted her off his lap. He stood and helped her up.

“I need to go for a ride,” he said quietly.

“No,” Betty said softly. He looked at her and she shook her head.

“Please just come home with me, Juggie. Please. I don’t want you to be alone with this. I want you to come home,” she whispered, her own tears falling. She was afraid if he went off by himself he would let too much darkness back in. He swallowed, as if wrestling with the decision. “Please Juggie,” she begged. He nodded and she sighed in relief.

“I’ll follow you,” he said quietly and they walked to their rides. Once home, Jughead wordlessly slipped out of his jacket and shoes and went out to the balcony. Betty text Ron that she was home and things were fine for now and then she went to get something she had kept stashed in the freezer for whenever a need might arise. This qualified. She went out to the balcony and handed Jughead a pack of smokes. He looked at her with raised eyebrows.

“I know you haven’t smoked in a couple years, but I thought you might need one,” she said with a gentle smile. He didn’t argue and took the pack. Once he had one lit, she curled up on his lap and they sat in silence while he revisited his old habit.

“Hopefully I didn’t wake the nicotine beast just now,” she said softly. “But tonight you need a little relaxant and I’d rather it be that then alcohol.”

“You could have just taken me to bed like you did that last time my mother fucked with my head,” he said with a flat smile. She remembered that night well. She had insisted he use her to forget and he had taken her with a ferocity that left them both sated and sore for days.

“As much as I love some good hard rough sex, I don’t want to knock anything loose,” she said with a dry laugh, her hand on her stomach.

“God Betty,” Jughead suddenly said and flicked his cigarette away. “I shouldn’t be smoking around you,” he said angrily.

“I don’t think a couple will make a difference,” she said with a smile. Jughead placed his hand over hers and pulled her close. He took her face and gave her a long slow kiss.

“I’m so happy about this Betts. I am so sorry with how I reacted. This news is as amazing as when you told me you were pregnant with Jenna. I just wish Gladys hadn’t fucked it up for us.”

“Did FP say anything else about it?”

“At first they thought it was just an OD but then they found a note and realized she had done it on purpose. My dad was her in case of emergency person. Guess she really had nobody else.”

“What was on the note?”

“To my family. I’m sorry I was a disappointment. Sometimes a person just doesn’t care enough to continue.” Jughead’s voice shook a little and she hugged him close.

“Does your sister know?” she whispered.

“My dad wants me to tell her. Jesus, Betty, I don’t know if I have it in me,” he said, his eyes filling with tears again.

“I can help you,” Betty said, her hand on his cheek. “Shall we call her? That’s probably not a good idea though. Something like this needs to be said in person.”

“So what do we do? Fly her out?”

“Sure, why not? I haven’t seen her since Christmas and I miss her.”

“I’ll call her in the morning and see if she wants to come for the weekend. I’m sure she’ll think something is wrong.”

“We’ll just keep quiet until she’s here,” Betty said softly. “Are you going to be ok?”

“I guess,” he said quietly. “Just need to process awhile and grieve for a woman who I thought I had long left behind.”

“Well, even with all that, she was your mother and a part of you is connected to her. You’re allowed to grieve. As long as you don’t blame yourself. I won’t allow it Juggie. And believe me, I can tell when your mind goes there, so don’t let me catch you doing that.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he said with a soft smile. He kissed her again, and hugged her close. “Thank you for asking me to come home. Probably wouldn’t have been a good idea to drive around with my mind full of this.”

“I love you Juggie, so much. I don’t like you feeling so sad,” Betty said with a sigh.

“I really am sorry love, so sorry about earlier. I know I keep saying it and I wish with all my heart I could take it back. I don’t know what the fuck I was thinking.”

“Not about babies obviously,” she said with a shrug. “It’s really ok. I understand your head wasn’t in the right place.”

“I’m still fucking sorry. God, I feel like such an asshole and if I had thought about it for even a second I would have remembered that we started trying a month ago. I just….”

“Juggie, stop. It’s ok!” He hugged her close and kept whispering he was sorry and she just kissed him to shut him up.

Four days later Jellybean arrived. Jughead had been able to process for a few days now and he was doing better but he was still nervous. There was hugs and happiness all around and he let her play with Jenna for a while and after a few hours of visiting, Betty went and put Jenna to sleep and Jughead asked his sister to sit on the couch with him.

“Ok, I know something is going on ever since you asked me to come out here and you need to spill now. Is everything ok?” JB asked, her worry evident.

“No, it’s not,” Jughead said slowly, not sure how to proceed. He decided to just get it done.

“Jellybean, dad got a call a few days ago. Mom died.” His sister blinked and just stared at him. She said nothing for a good while and when she spoke, her voice sounded raw and hoarse.

“How?”

“She OD’d on purpose,” Jughead said softly. Jellybean swallowed and said nothing. After a while she got up and grabbed her coat. “Where are you going?” he asked quickly, walking over to her.

“I need some air,” she whispered and left the apartment. Betty came out and found him standing by the door.

“You ok?” she asked and looked around. “Where is JB?”

“She left. I told her,” he said.

“Oh,” Betty murmured, walking over to him. “Is she ok?”

“I have no idea. She hardly said anything. Should I go after her?”

“Maybe text her first.” He nodded and grabbed his phone.

J: are you ok?

JB: I’m fine, I need to think.

“Just give her some space,” Betty said, sitting on the couch. Jughead sighed and sat next to her. A couple hours later, the phone rang. It was Archie.

“Hey Archie, what’s up?” Betty said when she realized who it was. She went still and looked at Jughead and he furrowed his brown in question. “Ok, thank you, I’ll tell him.” Betty hung up the phone and sighed.

“JB is at the dust club. Archie is playing a set and says she is really drunk.”

“God dammit,” Jughead sighed and got up to get his coat. He kissed Betty and was out the door.

When he got to the club he was informed that Archie had taken his sister to the back to get her away from the crowd. He heard the noise as he approached Archie’s dressing room. He opened the door and found a very annoyed Veronica trying to control an extremely drunk Jellybean.

“Ahhh there he is, the bearer of shitty news,” Jellybean exclaimed swinging the bottle she refused to let go of in Jughead’s direction.

“What the fuck, JB,” he said angrily. Veronica stepped back and gladly let him take over.

“What? Can’t a girl drown her sorrows?”

“You have enough sorrows about mom to get hammered?’ he asked, a little surprised.

“What? You mean the woman who abandoned me with my grandmother? The woman who didn’t give two shits about me and chased a fix more than she chased her own kid?” Jughead swallowed. Jellybean had never talked about her experiences and he had never asked, assuming she had been happy with their grandmother. He realized now how foolish that was.

“Jelly…”

“No,” she said, stopping him. Her face was streaked with mascara from angry tears that kept easing out of her eyes. “She abandoned us both Jughead. She hated us both. Sure she said shittier things to you than me, but it didn’t hurt any less. I know I’ve never talked about her to you but that’s because I wanted to forget and yet, here she is again, fucking with our heads in the worst way….how can I fuck with Jughead and Jellybean today? Oh, well how about I kill myself. She takes herself out completely. Well fuck her! Fuck her and her bullshit. Now I don’t have to think about her ever again!” she yelled, her face twisted with hurt rage. Jughead’s heart broke a little. He walked over and pulled the bottle from her hand.

“JB, it’s ok to feel grief,” he said, his eyes full of tears. “I feel it too,”

“No, I won’t grieve for her,” Jellybean cried, even as her body started to shake with sobs. “I won’t fucking grieve her!” Jughead pulled her into his arms and held her tightly, crying with her. He held her for a long time until she was calm and he pulled away and grabbed some tissue and wiped her face. It didn’t help much and she let out a laugh and pulled out some wet towelettes form her bag.

“Let’s go see dad,” she said after she cleaned her face up. He agreed and wrapped an arm around her shoulder so she wouldn’t stumble and fall. He thanked Archie and Ron for taking care of her and they left.

When FP opened the door to the trailer, Jughead could see that he hadn’t been having it any easier than them. His eyes were bloodshot and he looked like he hadn’t slept in days. He stepped back and let them in without a word.

“Have you been drinking?” Jughead asked quietly.

“Surprisingly, no,” FP said with a sigh. “I chose to deal with it by smoking pot. Judge me another day please,” he said, flopping down on the couch. Jughead said nothing and he sat in the chair. Nobody said anything for a while and the silence was deafening.

“I’m sorry,” FP suddenly said quietly. “I’m sorry for everything that you kids have been through. You deserved better than this and I’m so fucking sorry.” Jellybean let out a sob and Jughead said nothing. “She really did a number on us, didn’t she?”

“Why did you marry her?” Jughead asked quietly. “Ive always wanted to know.”

“Believe it or not, I loved her. She was a spitfire when I first met her and I fell in love immediately. Of course, by the time you kids were born and I realized she hated me and pretty much everything and everyone else as well, it was a little too late for second thoughts. My only regret is letting her take you, Jellybean. I should have come after you.”

“It wouldn’t have made it any better and no offence dad, grandma took better care of me than you could at the time.”

“I guess that’s true,” FP said sadly.

“Are there any happy memories of her that we can think of?” Jellybean whispered. They all thought long and hard and there really wasn’t any.

“She was always mean and angry,” Jughead said quietly. “I was afraid of her from as early as I can remember. Despite the fact that you were a drunk dad, you still were the better parent and that’s kind of horrifying if you think about it.”

“I loved you kids and when I realized she hated my guts….well, I decided alcohol liked me and so I let that soothe me every night and for that, I’m so sorry you guys, you really deserved better than this bullshit.”

“I love you daddy,” JB whispered and hugged FP as he shed a few tears. Jughead smiled at him when he glanced in his direction.

“You know I love you, Jughead, right?”

“Yeah, I do and I love you too.”

“Well, at least her bullshit brought us this moment, right?” he said with a sad smile. They chuckled and FP turned his attention to JB.

“Now, who the fuck let you drink. You smell like a bottle of tequila and don’t deny it girl, I know what the shit smells like.” She sighed and lay back on the couch.

“It won’t happen again,” she muttered as her eyes closed. FP grabbed a blanket and settled it over her. He turned to Jughead.

“Go home to your family, I’ll bring her by tomorrow.” Jughead nodded and gave him a hug and placed a soft kiss on JB’s forehead and headed out.

Betty was waiting for him when he got home. She ran to him and threw her arms around him, holding him tight. His arms came around her and he breathed her in. She stepped back and held his face.

“She ok?”

“She’s with my dad, she’ll be fine.”

“What do you need Juggie? How can I help?” Jughead rested his forehead on hers.

“I need you,” he breathed. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed herself against him, taking his mouth in a kiss. Jughead picked her up in his arms and carried her to the bedroom.

“I love you,” she whispered as he pressed her down on the bed, his mouth and hands hungry and desperate, needing her to heal his heart. She gave him everything, and he gave her everything in return. His mouth moved to her stomach, placing kisses all over the smooth skin, not yet showing the growing child.

“I love you,” he whispered. “We will love you with everything we have and we will never hurt you.” Betty felt his tears drop on her skin and she started to cry. He came up over her and rested his forehead on hers. “One last time, love, I am so sorry and I promise you, I will never ever hurt you again.” She nodded her understanding and pulled his mouth to hers. They spent the night loving and healing and the ghost from his past was completely banished and she would never hurt him again.

5

Kevin’s Ducati Sport Classic Monoposto - San Francisco, California

- Marchesini Forged wheels
- Zard exhaust
- Ohlins front 30mm cartridge kit
- Ohlins rear shock
- Brembo 4p/4p goldline front calipers
- Brembo rear 34mm goldline caliper with new lines
- Brembo HPK front rotor
- Mosfet regulator
- Pazzo levers
- various Rizoma bits (grips, mirrors, clutch cover, etc)
- Motovation sliders
- cleaned up rear end and turn signals.

Serial killer Jeffrey Dahmer playing with his father Lionel in a childhood home video. Despite rearing Jeffrey Lionel was shocked at the nature and extent of his son’s crimes when they finally came to light:

“We found out all of this at the trial in Milwaukee, the so-called trial to establish his insanity so he could get treated properly at a psychiatric institution. We found out that he had been collecting at the age of 12 to 14 – you know, when your hormones are ranging, puberty – he was collecting dead animals, road kill, riding around the rural roads and collecting them in bags. His mother didn’t know. I didn’t know. And apparently, none of his playmates knew.” - Lionel Dahmer

Breath

Can you make a Aaron Hotchner imagine where the reader is dating Hotch, works on the team and she gets hurts on a mission because of an explosion and he gets really worried and it’s angsty please? Thank you☺️

I can do this!  Here is your one-shot, comin’ ‘atcha!


“Y/N, please…”

As Hotch sits at your bedside, his fingers intertwined with yours, your ventilator pumps air into your lungs as the rhythmic beeping of the heart monitor gauges the very life that he felt was slipping through his fingers.

“Please, just hang on a bit longer…” Hotch whispers as he leans in and kisses your forehead.

You always had a weakness for little boys.  Ever since you had lost your son, your way in life had been nothing but a foggy cloud of hazy thoughts and half-felt emotions.  You meandered through life with half-hooded eyes and unheard thoughts as your heart continued to involuntarily pump a lifetime of motherhood instincts throughout the body of a woman who no longer woke up with a child.

And it was unbearable.

So when you had finally reached out and applied for a position with the BAU three years ago, it wasn’t a shock when you had become attached to Henry and little Jack.

The two of them made your heart soar.

As the doctor comes into your room, writing silent notes down on a chart as Hotch’s eyes raise to him, the doctor looks at the haggard man from above his black-rimmed glasses as he lightly shakes his head.

And all Aaron could do was cry.

“Y/N!  No!” Hotch yells, his voice ricocheting through your ears as your hands are high in the air, slowly approaching the bus full of children as your heart hammers in your chest.

“Y/L/N, get back here now!” you hear your boss roar.

The love of your life roar…

Approaching the bus as you glance at the crying and scared faces of 23 little boys through the glass windows, you take a deep breath as you turn your attention towards the tall double-doors of the bus, the man with the bomb raising his hand high in the air.

“Back!  Away!” he screams, tears pouring down his face.

It wasn’t his fault.

Well, it was.

But you understood how he felt.

The desperation in a parent’s life when they lose a child without anyone to blame but the cruelty of life is enough to rip the breath from your very lungs.

And not everyone emerges from the fog unadultered.

Bargaining with him as your hands tremble in the air, the team looks on helplessly as tears stream down Hotch’s face.

And as the unsub slowly opens the doors to the bus, you could feel the collective sigh of relief as you begin to usher the boys off, one by one, as they run and take cover with the people in the vests who were there to take them home.

That was…until you step on the bus.

“Hey, Hotch,” J.J. says, knocking lightly on the door.

Her voice ripped him away from his thoughts as his eyes meander over to her, a shadow of a bygone smile drifting lightly across his lips as she sets the bouquet of lilies and tulips at your bedside.

Your favorite.

“Morgan uh…Morgan ca-…called me,” she stammers, tears threatening to spill over.

J.J. had become your best friend.  The one woman you could talk to when things went terribly wrong.  The one you called when nights were rough.  The one who brought wine and fruit over when you couldn’t sleep.

The one you went to when you first realized you were in love with your boss.

Silently she makes her way to the foot of your bed, sitting in a seat as she leans her forehead over onto the mattress of your bed, her head in between your feet as she begins to sob.

They had to take you off.

They had to remove you from everything.

“What are you doing!?” Hotch roars as you step up and onto the bus, taking up a position beside the struggling man as you reach over and shut the doors behind you.

“It sucks, you know,” you say to him.

“What sucks?” he hisses, his hand trembling in mid-air.

“Waking up without a child.”

As the tears pour down you’re cheeks, the unsub’s face softens as a flicker of recognition graces his eyes.

“M-…my son…” he chokes out.

“I know,” you sniffle, gumdrop tears flowing down your neck as you slowly move your hand to his, your thumb situating on top of the red button as you take a step closer to him.

“Whatever decision you make, we make it together,” you murmur, your eyes locked with his as the unsub shakes his head, the tears pooling in his collarbone dips as you raise your free hand slowly and put it on his shoulder.

“It’s time,” the doctor says, the team gathering along the outer perimeter of the room as J.J. scoots her chair over to Hotch, his body trembling with pain as his sobs turn audible.

“Why…?” he begs, J.J. burying her tear-soaked face into the crook of his neck.

“No…” he whispers, snot pouring from his nose as he brings his arm around to wipe it away.

Noooo!” he roars, standing up from his chair as J.J. rears back in shock, watching as her boss throws his arms around you, grasping your back as he hoists your body to him, your lifeless head lobbing forward onto his shoulder as your arms tumble backwards, his head pressed into your neck as his shoulders begin to shake.

“Y/N!!  Please!!  Wake up, please!!” he roars as he shakes you.

It was enough to break even the strongest team.

Morgan runs up behind him, furiously peeling him away from you as the doctor catches your body before it hits the bed, with Morgan dragging him out of the room as he yells and clamors to try and get back to your side.

“Y/N!  I know you can hear me!  Come back to us, please!” he shrieks, grasping onto the frame of the door as the team around him begins to aid Derek in getting him out of the room.

“Mrs. Jennifer…?” the doctor urges, turning to her as she brings her fingers to her eyes and wipes at the make-up running down her face.

“It’s time,” he says as the doctor wraps his hand around hers.

And as J.J. nods slowly, trying to drown out her boss’s angry pleas and fearful sobs, she reaches over your pale body and begins to flip the switches, one by one, as the heart monitor and ventilator begin to shut down.

“Jennifer! Stooooop!” Aaron roars as Rossi and Morgan push him around the corner.

Sobbing as her shoulders quake, Garcia comes shuffling into the room and leans into her back, wrapping her arms around her aching friend as the whir of the machines finally settle down, the silence in the room deafening as J.J. sniffles loudly.

And then…a gasp.

As the two of them whip their heads up, the doctor turning around from the doorway, his eyes widen as they all watch your chest continue to rise and fall, your fingers beginning to twitch as your head slowly begins to lob side to side.

And then…a whimper.

“Y-…Y/N?” Garcia stammers as J.J.’s eyes widen, her body turning as she pushes Penelope off of her and runs for the door.

“Hotch!  HOOOOOOOTCH!” she roars as she rushes around the corner.

“Y/N!” Penelope yells as the doctor shoves her away, your eyes slowly peeling themselves open as he begins to run a series of tests, checking your pupil dilation and taking your pulse with his hand while a nurse pokes your lower leg with a needle, watching your legs jump in response.

“What?” Hotch breathes as she starts back down the hallway, his pace picking up to a full-blown run as he barrels back into the room, your eyes slowly rolling over to see his figure as his jaw drops.

“Oh, my god,” he breathes, rushing to your side as he pushes the doctor out of the way, the nurses rounding around to the other side as they slowly begin to work the breathing tube out of your lungs, your throat sputtering as you cover your face in spit.

“It’s ok, it’s alright.  Oh god, Y/N, I’ve got you,” Hotch whispers, tears spilling onto your hand as he raises it to his cheek, his other hand coming around to wipe the spit off of your face.

“The boys-” you try to choke out before you begin coughing furiously.

“Ssshhh…sh sh sh…” Aaron coos, sniffling loudly as he kisses your hand and rubs his thumb along your pale cheek, “just rest.”

“Aaron…the boys…” you try to get out, your eyes watering as your breathing becomes laborious.

“The boys are fine.  They’re…they’re all fine,” he chokes out, a smile etching across his face as he shakes his head.

“Ok,” you breathe as you nod your head, your vision lobbing over to the doctor as he continues to study the monitors.

“I don’t-”

And as he cuts his own sentiment off with a few tears of his own, he looks down at you as he pats your shoulder, a kind smile spreading across his face as he turns his attention back to the monitors.

“Welcome back,” he whispers.

Phanweek Day 1: Wait for Us

Title~ Wait for Us

Summary~ After five whole years of waiting Zachary Howell-Lester is ready to go to Playlist Live. Unfortunately airports are trickier than they seem. Zach may be ready but Dan and Phil maybe not so much.

Words~ 4.3K

Genre~ Fluff

Rating~ G

Beta’s Note~ Hey @phanweek a bit of a late entry for Day 1 SFW. I’m actually the beta posting for Jay (the author) who’s not close to a computer right now and we kind of forgot day 1 was right now, oops!

Author’s Note~ Hi everyone! Big thank you to @natskindacrisis for posting this for me! I’m a dork who forgets deadlines @_@

——

“Dad! Dad, wake up!!”

Phil groaned with exaggerated annoyance and cracked an eye open to mock glare at the boy bouncing on his hips. “Hasn’t anyone told you not to wake up a sleeping lion?” he growled playfully.

“But Daaaaaad, we’re going to America! You promised I could go this year,” Zach whined. “Besides, Daddy said I could.”

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