#<- makes me the angriest i was so excited for it

[sirnica]

List of demands for my next love interest of any kind when I finally come to my senses:

Punctual! I cannot deal with these slow ass bitches who think clock is a suggestion!

The happiest go luckiest mother effer in the world. I have depression and anxiety! Why am I always the sunshine in these grumpy sunshine situations?! Hakuna matata mother fuckers.

At least marginally more put together than I am. That's not so difficult. I'm a fucking mess.

Big fuckin boobs. I'm taking D cups at least! I'm lesbian because I like women and their boobs!

Since I'm being petty:

And what's up with these short ass names for pets? Mia? Ella? That's what people call their rabbits!

I need me a Jovana, or a Sabiha, or Azemina or a Gertrude.

The last one is mean and petty and I know it.

And the most important one:

Actually likes me!

#personal #ignore me #i am just very very sad #meanwhile i keep waiting for her sometimes for hours #apaurin didn't help #she just doesn't like me as simple as that #and now she's mad at me because i was a few minutes late to log into a videogame we're playing #i know it means a lot to her and i did apologize because i do feel bad and i genuinely like playing with her #and i don't want to fight #when she's in a good mood she's like the sweetes funniest person ever and she makes my day so much better #but she's also the grumoiest person alive #mia was the angriest #I'm turning into my mom trying to get her to see a therapist to see a doctor for her headaches to get her to eat healthier but i don't know #how to help someone who doesn't want my help and who occasionally seems like they barely tolerate my company #ignore. #I'm crying in my office again #and she won't even try to read my books #like not even an attempt so she can say not for me #and when i try to talk about them because I'm excited and they make me happy #she just cuts me off #why am i even trying this?

[rorywritesjunk]

I can’t tell where the journey will end But I know where to start

Prequel to my Kid Buggy fic, set about 11-ish years before that story.

Buggy meets you by chance when he needs his buttons sewn back onto his jacket. He’s young, up and coming, and he thinks everyone should cower before him wherever he goes, but all you do is smile at him.

Rating: PG-13ish just for some swearing. Warning: Buggy’s in his early 20s. He’s an asshole. He just is because I wanted to write him loud, demanding, everything. There’s 3 new characters thrown in because why not? Future Wife gets a name as well! A/N: I have no idea when Buggy became a Captain, so he’s a fresh faced captain in this. No clue how long this fic will be. I just started on the 4th chapter but I’m excited to write it out! I had fun with the original fic and decided to write the prequel to how they met. Enjoy!

Title comes from “Wake Me Up” by Avicii.

TAGLIST: @lostfirefly @ane5e @kingofthemfingpirates @the-angriest-angel @tiredemomama @valen-yamyam16 @i-reblog-fics-i-like @plethora-of-fickleness

Chapter 1 + Chapter 2 + Chapter 3 + Chapter 4 + Chapter 5 + Chapter 6 + Chapter 7 + Chapter 8 + Chapter 9 + Chapter 10 + Chapter 11 + Chapter 12 + Chapter 13 + Chapter 14 + Chapter 15 + Chapter 16 + Chapter 17 + Chapter 18 + Epilogue

Chapter 4

The girls refused to speak to you because of how you defended Buggy. They still thought he was rude and didn’t like him, and they didn’t understand why you’d defend him. They were also mad because not only did they have to clean the kitchen twice that night, but Miss Pins had them sort fabric scraps by color before organizing all the threads the same way over the last few weeks. The final act of punishment was organizing all the pins and needles by length and gauge. 

They didn’t think it was fair. 

Had you been in charge you would have dismissed them from their apprenticeships entirely. 

Yes, Buggy was loud, had been rude each visit to you and Miss Pins but he was a pirate and all the shop’s customers were pirates. A lot of them were rude to you and Miss Pins, some even threatening, but he was also becoming a repeat customer and overpaid you each time, and when you brought it to the attention of Miss Pins, she let you keep the extra amount because you took on helping him. 

Honestly, and you didn’t want to admit it to your boss just yet, but you liked Buggy. So far he hadn’t tried to flirt with you, act inappropriately, or threaten you. Countless others had since the day you started as an apprentice. Miss Pins was protective of her girls, having no problem pointing a gun at any pirate creeps should they make her apprentices uncomfortable. Buggy was loud, demanding, but he wasn’t a creep.

It had been a month since you last saw Buggy and you figured that you weren’t going to see him again. Why would he return to the shop after what the girls had said? You felt bad about it and wished you could have talked with him a bit more, but he took off so fast that you didn’t get a chance to. 

You still had his socks that you fixed for him and even secured him an extra pair. Maybe he’d stop by to pick them up? You weren’t going to hold out a lot of hope. No doubt he would be on his ship, sailing for treasure or adventure, forgetting about the incident a month ago. 

Hopefully.

The shop was closed for the evening but you were still working when you saw him again. You wanted to get extra work done before taking a few days for yourself to celebrate your birthday. The girls originally wanted to do something with you but now that they weren’t talking to you, you got to do whatever you wanted. 

You were going to go to a nearby lake and feed the ducks while enjoying a packed lunch. 

The pounding at the door startled you. You grabbed a broom to protect yourself as you approached it and looked through the peephole. You saw the bright red nose and immediately relaxed as you opened the door, smiling at him as he stood on the doorstep.

“We’re closed, you know.” You told him teasingly. “We’re not a clinic where you can stop by whenever you need me to fix something.”

He looked flustered as he tried to think of a response, but you grabbed his hand and pulled him into the shop, closing the door behind him as you headed back to your work. He followed after you, looking around at the different bolts of fabric on shelves, the trays of thread, and several dresses that hung on a rack behind the counter. You took a seat and gestured to the other chair as you picked your sewing back up.

“You left your socks, you know.” You said as you passed the needle through the fabric. You were finishing up another dress for a customer, attaching the bodice and skirt together with piping along where the two pieces met. “I was worried you wouldn’t come back for them.”

Buggy sat down and crossed his arms, turning his attention to what you were doing. Your fingers were careful as you worked, your fingernails guiding along the piping to keep it in place as you sewed. He didn’t think you actually made things, just repaired them, so he watched you for a moment before responding.

“I had other socks.” He mumbled as you removed a pin and stuck it into your little pin cushion. “I… was going to come back.” He glanced up at your face, seeing the look of concentration, and looked back down at your work. “Why are you up so late?”

“Why are you at the shop late?” You countered as you stuck a pin in your mouth before repositioning the fabric. He hesitated and looked away. “Surely not for your socks, Buggy.”

“I… was out on a walk.” He replied as he clenched his jaw. “And I saw the light on and thought maybe you were being robbed.”

You took the pin out of your mouth and stuck it back through the layers of fabric. “And you knocked so kindly.”

“I don’t have-”

He stopped himself and took a deep breath, trying not to overreact. You were just teasing him, trying to rile him up, but there was no malice in your voice. He looked back at you and saw you were smiling at him and his heart skipped a beat and his face was warm. He cleared his throat and tried again.

“I just wanted to stop by and… say hi. I didn’t realize how late it was.”

“Well, hello and good evening then.” You chuckled. “What would you have done if Miss Pins answered the door with her shotgun?”

“I’m not scared of her!” Buggy shot back. You looked over his shoulder and grinned.

“Good evening, boss.” 

Buggy spun around, eyes wide, but you laughed. There was no one there. Oh, you were cruel. He turned back around and glared at you. You were still laughing as you set your sewing down. Buggy huffed and looked away from you with a glare on his face. 

“Sorry, sorry.” You giggled as you wiped the tears from your eyes. “As for your question about why I’m up so late… My birthday is in two days so I want to get as much work done as possible so I can relax.”

“Oh, birthday?” He repeated. Girls liked getting gifts. Should he get you a gift? Why would he get you one? He looked back at you as you picked your sewing back up now that you had calmed down from laughing. What kind of gift would he get you if he was to get you something? He was a pirate, he could go find some treasure and give half to you, but would that be weird? Why was he even considering that?

“Mhm.” You nodded. “I’m going to go feed and watch the ducks and have lunch.”

“Ducks?” Buggy laughed. Ducks were not exciting, but if you liked them, he would take you all around to show you all the ducks in the world if you wanted. “Just duck watching, that’s it?”

“Yea.” You frowned when he laughed. It wasn’t really anything to laugh about. You didn’t need to do something exciting to enjoy yourself, just sitting and taking it easy was enough. “It’s something I like to do, Buggy.”

“It’s your birthday, though! You should be going out and doing something fun!” He said. “Drinking, having a party, something like that! Go on a raid or something!”

“I’m not a pirate, Buggy.” You reminded him as you looked back at your sewing. “I’d rather do something quiet.”

He leaned back in his seat and watched you with a frown. You lived in a town frequented by pirates, you had to be used to what they got up to, so why would you want to do something as boring as watching ducks? Maybe you were just never given the opportunity to do something fun. Buggy would change that.

“How about we-”

He didn’t get to finish that sentence because he saw you look up, eyes widening at something behind him. He wasn’t going to fall for that again so he rolled his eyes. “The old hag’s not there, so don’t try and trick me again.”

THWACK

“Get the hell out of my shop!” Miss Pins barked as she raised the broom up again. “Do you realize how late it is?!” 

Buggy fell out of the chair and dodged the blows from her broom. He almost made it to the door before she threw it at his feet, tripping him up as he scrambled. She stormed over to him and grabbed the door, pulling it open before pointing out. 

“It’s too late for you to be coming around!” She snapped as he hurried out the door, but not before he looked back at you for a split second. You were still in your chair, looking rather amused by the whole exchange. At least you weren’t frowning at him anymore. Maybe he could sneak back around for your birthday. He just needed to find out where the ducks would be.

Miss Pins slammed the door behind him before rounding on you. “Stop encouraging him!” 

“I haven’t done anything!” You exclaimed. “I’m just being nice to him!”

“That’s encouraging him! I don’t need another lovesick pirate after you, Sunny! He’s as bad as the last one!” Miss Pins snapped. “I can’t keep chasing these pirates off!”

“He’s not like the last one!” You shot back. “And he’s not lovesick, he just needs a friend, Miss Pins. It’s not like he’s asking me to marry him every time he sees me!”

Your boss glared at you as she locked the door and picked up the broom. The last one wasn’t like that until the fifth visit, where he had demanded you to marry him while you were fixing his coat. You were only 19, the man was almost ten years your senior and if your boss hadn’t been there, who knows where you would have ended up. She wasn’t going to lose you then to that man and she wasn’t about to lose you to some nobody pirate. 

“He’s not welcome here anymore.” Miss Pins told you. “And next time you see him you tell him that.”

She left after that, returning upstairs without another word, leaving you alone to think about what she said.

#buggy the clown #buggy the clown x reader #buggy x reader #buggy x you #buggy the clown x you #opla buggy the clown #opla buggy the clown x reader #opla buggy x reader #opla buggy the clown x you #buggy the clown x oc #buggy x oc #opla buggy the clown x oc #opla buggy x oc #sunny x buggy #one piece #one piece oc #one piece fanfiction

[abnerkrill]

cliff legrand + dog symbolism

[benjamin bratt as cliff legrand in poker face 1x10, "the hook" / "the hook" script by rian johnson / the angriest dog in the world by david lynch / post by prettyhatemachinegf / benjamin bratt in "the hook" / how to be a dog by andrew kane / post by axetofall]

(image ids:

the first image is of benjamin bratt as cliff in poker face, with a hand on his forehead and a frustrated expression.

the second image is a quote from cliff in poker face that says, "When you follow somebody’s orders for 25 years, stand behind them and nod, advance when they advance, the man behind the man. When you do that, there’s a very natural impression to be had that you like the person. Even love the person. I don’t know, maybe it has something to do with dogs. When that’s reflected back on you by everyone who sees you as the man’s best friends, I guess it can go two ways. It can hook you, pull you in, make you start to feel something like love, or… or it can go the other way. Start to metastasize. And all the disrespect and lack of regard and all the ways you’re treated like a dog that seem to bounce off the obedient facade, no. No, no, no. It all goes somewhere. Right here. I hate the old man… The terms you’ve laid out proffer me more dignity and respect than I’ve gotten in decades from the Sterlings, so I am saying yes. Just tell me how deep to dig the hole."

the third image is a hand-drawn comic of a tied-up dog in a yard. it says, "the dog who is so angry he cannot move. he cannot eat. he cannot sleep. he can just barely growl. ...bound so tightly with tension and anger, he approaches the state of rigor mortis."

the fourth image is a tumblr post by prettyhatemachinegf that says, "biting the hand that feeds and leaving teeth marks that eventually fade causing me to bite the hand that feeds again and again and again in a desperate attempt to leave my mark"

the fifth image is of cliff lying on a hotel room bed with a frowning, frustrated expression

the sixth image is from a poem by andrew kane that reads, "you must lose yourself wholly in activity; you must never feel an itch that you do not scratch. you must learn how to wait at the foot of the bed and hope, silently, that somebody is drunk enough or lonely enough to invite you up, and you must learn not to show your excitement too much or overplay your hand. if you want to be a dog, you must learn to believe that you are not in fact a dog at all.

the seventh image is a tumblr post from axetofall that says, "he is like a dog who can no longer be touched without showing his teeth." end id.)

#poker face #cliff legrand #benjamin bratt #emyr this is your fault with all the loves like a dog posts i hope u know i owe it all to u

[moonshynecybin]

one thing that i think we should talk more about is marc & vale's different manipulation techniques. idk if manipulation is the right term, at least for marc it's mostly about how he approaches the media

I think when marc was really young in the beginning of his career he was very honest with the journalist as he was excited to be a rookie for example and didn't have any bad feelings to hide. but i think he learned a lot from 2015, he progressively started to alternate moments of real and brutal honesty and even vulnerability to moments of (fake)politeness so that he can act as angel to the media while still being a menace on track and still be seen as someone who's brutally honest. (I'm not criticizing him, this is a smart move and nobody is honest all the time) obviously this happens a lot more with non-spanish media where he tries to appear less threatening

and then there's vale...vale who established himself when he was REALLY young has a funny guy, a lovable leader who's not afraid of saying what he thinks because he's aware of his charisma. he always knew how to work the media for some reason and in 2015 but also with every other rivarly he had he knew he could be as mean or cunty or corny as he wanted cause he had all the italian journalists wrapped around his finger. true marvel supervillain shit, iconic

yeah i see what you mean it IS manipulation but they also live and work in such a ruthlessly public arena that i can’t ever blame them for it like it’s not necessarily a bad thing that they know how to play the game and protect themselves a lil…

it’s also interesting in relation to each other i think. like marc IS very careful never to say bad things that can be used as sound bites about valentino and vale (WITH NOTABLE EXCEPTIONS IN THE PAST LOL) makes an effort to do the same… they’re both always reframing and changing the subject and dodging the question… vale gets asked about marc on the ducati and says yeah he’s fast lets talk about BEZZ. marc gets asked to name valentino’s strengths and weaknesses and says well he’s charismatic and has no weaknesses. marc gets asked about vale’s retirement gives a loooong spiel about vale being a huge part of motogp then essentially says yeah he hates me but i don’t have any problems and wish him the best :) like he orients himself in such a way as to make the feud seemed one sided which hmmm i don’t know about that anymore lol… truly marc only furthers their beef under specific and controlled circumstances ie his documentary (almost NEVER to the press writ large that’s why that misano press scrum had me like 👀) and vale is the same (podcasts are the optimal time for a deranged monologue). BUT he also sometimes furthers it when he’s just the angriest little motorcycle racer the world has ever seen and his temper gets the best of him. they’re too media trained for anything else

anyways all this to say is that they would both make such excellent hunger games victors…

#i am curious what you mean about him making himself ‘less threatening’ in english than spanish though that’s compelling #i do not uh. speak spanish very well. i’m on that duolingo grind. #callie speaks #motogp #rosquez #asks

[quizzyisdone]

Take On Me | Fem! Bell Reader x Frank Woods

A/N: Hi!! I know it has been forever since I post for BOCW and honestly, I miss it a lot. Adult life just doesn't really lend itself well to having creative hobbies (shocking). But here's a little something for Valentine's Day that definitely is not projection at all :) Masterlist Pairing: Fem! Bell Reader x Frank Woods Word Count: 3.2k Synopsis: Woods has always hated Valentine's Day -- it's just a pathetic marketing gimmick for big businesses to take your money and for society to make you feel bad if you spend it alone. Bell, on the other hand, would beg to differ. Warnings: Strong language, mentions of alcohol, Woods is a jackass at one point but don't worry he makes up for it

*Title inspired by Take On Me, by a-ha

You walked glumly down the sidewalk, attempting to avert your eyes from the restaurants that lined the streets, young couples all enjoying a nice Valentine’s Dinner inside. Even the damn weather was romantic.

 Light flurries of snow cascading around everyone, intricate snowflakes landing delicately in your hair and onto your coat. It wasn’t bone-chilling cold either, perfect for a stroll down the street, holding hands with the one you loved. Warm yellowish hues from inside the various buildings emanated onto the street, along with the sound of laughter and idle chatter as well. It would’ve been the perfect atmosphere to set the mood for a date with Woods. The idyllic late winter day.

You clutched the brown paper bag filled with his favorite beer to your chest, careful so as not to drop it. It was your little Valentine’s Day gift, small and inconsequential enough to play off as just a kind gesture and completely not at all related to the present holiday. Admittedly, your feelings were a little hurt when Woods had gone off on a sarcastic tangent about how much he hated Valentine’s Day the other day and that it was just a stupid corporate holiday. 

He was kind of right, but it was still fun to celebrate, at least for you. A nice little date, free from the worries of either of your jobs or maybe at least a gift from Woods would have been nice. You two had never even been in the same state, or even country for that matter, during the holiday since you started dating. 

Maybe missing Valentine’s Day was kind of your fault anyways, since after his little joking tangent both of you agreed not to celebrate or do anything -- it was just a normal day. Ironic, considering a day with Woods could scarcely be considered normal due to your work with the CIA and his with the Marines. A normal day wasn’t getting called into work and both of you just sitting on the couch, too exhausted to truly spend time with each other in a manner other than physically being in the same room.

Truthfully, life had been rather boring lately, your relationship wasn’t missing love per se, but it was missing that old excitement.

You turned off of the street and into the apartment building where you shared a flat with Woods. After climbing up two flights of stairs and finding your door, you reached into your coat pocket for your keys, opening to the door to find Woods putting his own jacket on and grabbing the keys to his truck. 

“Hey babe.” He said, barely giving you a glance in acknowledgment as he tied his boots. 

“Hi.” You said, confused and frowning. You crossed your arms. “Where are you going?”

“Oh, over to this dive bar with Adler, he just got back into town, thought I’d get a drink with him.” Woods explained, none the wiser to how upset you were. You harshly placed down the brown bag. “Uh, what’s in the bag?” He asked.

“Something I got for you. I wanted to do something nice for you.” You crossed your arms and put on the angriest expression you could muster to hide how defeated you felt. He opened it, revealing a six pack of his favorite imported beer, very difficult and expensive to get in America. Instead of a smile and a thank you, he furrowed his brows, frowning.

“We weren’t supposed to get each other anything.” 

“It wasn’t for Valentine’s Day. It was meant to be a nice gesture” You spat, stomping off and into the living room adjacent to the foyer. “Not even a fucking thank you.” You whispered under your breath.

“Thank you?” He yelled from the other room, following you, now clearly just as angry as you. “We agreed not to get anything for each other. I don’t fucking want your gift if you’re just going to be an ass about it.”

“I went to seven different liquor stores across the entire Philadelphia city limit in the snow and paid nearly fifty dollars for a six pack of special imported beer that you’d go through in one sitting because I knew this was your favorite and now you don’t want it. Some gratitude would be nice. ”

“Why would I want it if you’re gonna act like a bitch?” Woods bellowed. ‘Bitch’ had hit a nerve, he had never called you that before, but then again the two of you never got into any bad arguments before. Regardless, you stood your ground.

“Maybe I’m acting like a bitch because your first response was to chastise and question me for getting you a present and now you’re yelling at me.”

“I didn’t even want to celebrate Valentine’s!”

“Maybe I did because I never get to be with you anymore, you’re always too tired or too busy to fucking be my partner.” Your pitch became quieter and you suddenly became aware of the tears streaming down your cheeks in a torrential downpour. “You haven’t touched me in forever. I miss you. I wanted to celebrate it with you, I never got to experience any of this.” You said through clenched teeth.

Evidently, the tears did not sway Woods, as he continued yelling. 

“Well I have and it’s not that fun. Sorry I’m exhausted from saving the entire fucking free world, Bell.” He retorted.

You scoffed.

“Get off your fucking soapbox, Woods. You and I do the exact same thing, and I still make time for you.” You turned your body away from him facing the wall, not even wanting to see him. “It’d be nice if you could do that for me too.”

“I do!” He explained, almost childlike in his declaration -- like a toddler so boldly claiming that the sky was green because he said so. 

“When was the last time you even took me out when it wasn’t my idea?” Woods paused, attempting to remember (to which he couldn’t). “See? You don’t even remember. Go and hang out with your buddy, don’t bother coming back if you don’t want me anymore. I’ll get the hint.” You said dejectedly, walking off to your bedroom but stealing a glance at Woods, who only glared daggers at you, brows furrowed, looking almost annoyed with you. 

You lightly shut your bedroom door the exact moment Woods slammed the front door shut, the vibration of which could be felt against the wall and you could hear a distant clang and glass shatter. You placed your back against the wood, slowly sliding down into the floor and placing your head between your knees, sobbing.

You instantly regretted that ultimatum you just gave him, Woods was the only person you have after MK-Ultra, while he had everyone. He didn’t need you, you needed him. To ground you, to keep you sane.

---------

Woods stomped off to his truck, angrily shoving the key into the ignition. The drive to the bar was erratic and rage-filled, as he gripped the steering wheel with an iron clasp and swore under his breath, muttering counter arguments that he could’ve used in an attempt to justify his actions.

Arriving at the bar, he slammed the door shut, scanning the front of the building for Adler, whom he found almost immediately, nursing a cigarette as per usual. The person who stood next to him, however, utterly enraged Woods. Fucking Hudson.

Despite himself, Woods strided to where they were standing, waiting for him. 

“Hey Adler.” He greeted the scarred man. Adler nodded back in acknowledgement.“The fuck you doing here, Hudson?” 

“Well aren’t you in a great fuckin’ mood.” Hudson retorted, jabbing Woods’s shoulder. “Come on, we can argue inside when we’re sat down and drunk.”

Woods reluctantly obliged him, opening the door and scanning the room for a table, considering the bar was completely full. He found a high top table and sat down, beckoning for a server, for which he ordered three whiskeys and a round of shots for the table. 

Silence ensued for a brief moment before Adler broke it.

“So why the hell are you in a bad mood this time, Woods?” He asked, exasperated in a way that indicated that it wasn’t so uncommon for the sergeant to swing by in a sour mood. Woods immediately went on the defensive.

“The more important question is why the fuck Hudson is here? Don’t you have a wife and kids to celebrate Valentine’s with? She pissed at you too?” Woods spat, and Hudson sighed deeply.

“So that’s what this is about.” Adler chuckled to himself.

“If you have to know, Jenny’s not in town right now,” He explained. “Few days ago she was really upset and needed a vacation, so I told her I’d watch the kids while she went down to her mother’s house for some alone time.”

“Oh and so I guess you just left the kids at home by themselves.” Woods retorted, realizing belatedly that his statement was a bit unfair. For all his faults, he had always known the man to be a devoted husband and father. Hudson rolled his eyes.

“What kind of father do you take me for? This sixteen year old girl down the street needed some pocket money so I’m paying her to babysit them. Happy?” He rolled his eyes and Woods let the matter drop. “So now that I’ve answered your question, what has put you in an even worse mood than usual? Is it Bell?” Hudson asked.

Woods groaned. “Yes, okay? We got into a fight.” 

“About?” Adler beckoned Woods to explain.

“Well,” He began. “So a few weeks back, right? I went off on some rant that Valentine’s Day is stupid and we agreed to not celebrate it. But today I guess she went back on her word and got me a gift and made me look like an asshole for not getting her anything. Then we got into a fight. That’s it.”

“That can’t be it.” Hudson scoffed. This time it was Woods’s turn to roll his eyes.

“Fine.” He huffed. “Words were… exchanged.”

“And what the hell exactly did you say to her?” Adler piped up. Woods rolled his eyes again, slamming his beer bottle down. 

“Fine.” He huffed, beginning to regale every single gritty detail of a five minute fight, seeing as Hudson and Adler would’ve pried everything out of him some way or another. Throughout his story, Woods kept stuttering over his words, pausing, taking deep breaths. He still couldn’t get over that ultimatum. 

“You called her a bitch?” Hudson stared at Woods, his eyes glaring daggers. 

“That was your first mistake.” Adler snickered. 

“No, that was his hundredth mistake. Your first mistake, Woods, was ranting about Valentine’s Day in the first place.” Hudson paused, noticing the very displeased expression of the man across from him. Not wanting to get into a bar fight tonight, he chose his next words carefully. “Hear me out, I can tell you every reason why you’re wrong, if you want. If you don’t, that’s fine. Drink your pain away and let your relationship with Bell go down the drain.”

Tense silence filled the air as Woods retreated back into his head. He certainly hates Hudson, doesn’t think the man does a damn thing right, but he’s been married for the better half of a decade for a reason, right? Woods slowly nodded his head, it couldn’t hurt to hear the man out, and besides, even in his rage, even after the ultimatum you gave him, losing one of the only people he actually cared about was one he couldn’t bear.

“Okay. Well, as we all well know, Bell doesn’t remember anything about her life.” Hudson glanced at Adler, who suddenly found a keen interest in the glass of whiskey in front of him. “And in the past three years, she hadn’t been able to celebrate any holiday other than Christmas last year because of schedules. Everything is a first for her, making it special to her. So your first mistake was ranting about Valentine’s Day.”

“Wh- How?” Woods sighed. 

“Jesus Christ you’re so fucking dense.” Hudson mumbled to himself, rubbing his forehead. “It’s her first and she has someone who she loves dearly to celebrate it with. Probably felt like a gut punch. And still yet, she tried to make it special in spite of you. You practically spat on her for it. You called her a bitch and yelled instead of just accepting it and spending the night with her. That’s all she wanted.”

Oh. Maybe he was onto something.

“You are all Bell has.” Hudson stressed, the way he was explaining the situation to Woods, you would think he has experienced this exact situation. Perhaps he has, Woods did find that break up letter to Hudson from some girl like fifteen or so odd years ago. “And she’s probably feeling pretty neglected.”

“So why do you all of the sudden like Bell?” Adler asked, shame from the mention of what he did to you still painted on his expression.

“I like her well enough, and she’s proven herself.” Hudson took a sip from his drink and laughed softly. “But I like proving Woods wrong more.”

“Shut the fuck up, baldilocks.” Woods grumbled and Adler snorted, while Hudson let out a small chuckle at the creative insult. “I’ve gotta go.”

Unceremoniously, Woods removed himself from the high barstool, fumbling in his pocket for his wallet. He placed a twenty on the table, leaving without a word.

“Y’know he’s never gonna admit that sometimes you’re right.” Adler said, a cigarette between his teeth as he popped open his zippo lighter. 

“I know.” 

__

Woods glanced down at his watch as he approached the door to your shared apartment. It was only seven when he left. Fuck. He hoped you might still be awake. As quietly as he could, with a bouquet in one hand and his keys in the other, he unlocked the door.

“Bell?” He whispered, hoping to hear at least a TV or the radio playing. Instead, it was dark, with only a small glow emanating from the oven light in the kitchen. “Babe?”

No answer. Shit. He set his keys down on the counter that separated the kitchen from the living room and turned on a lamp. Gingerly, he made his way to your shared bedroom, opening the door softly.

On the bed, he found you asleep, facing towards the door and your hand lazily resting on the pillow on his side. He sighed, it was clear you had fallen asleep crying, your eyes puffy and cheeks red even in sleep. Woods took off his boots, setting down the bouquet on the nightstand. 

As stealthily as a man of his size could manage, he crawled into bed, facing towards you. He held the hand that was resting on his side in his own hand, bringing it to his, softly kissing your knuckle. 

“Bell.” He rested his free hand on your hip, rubbing soothing circles with his thumbs. Woods smiled softly as your eyes fluttered awake. Instead of returning his soft gestures, you simply grumbled, taking back your hand and flipping over on your other side. He didn’t know what he expected, but it wasn’t that. “Baby, I’m sorry.”

“You’re only saying that because you’re drunk. Go to bed, you'll feel differently in the morning.” You said, sniffling and barely audible. 

“I didn’t drink anything. Baby girl, I am so fucking sorry.” He scooched closer to you, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you flush to his form. “I’m sorry for complaining about Valentine’s, I’m sorry for the beer, I’m sorry for calling you a bitch, I’m sorry for being a fucking jackass to my girl.”

Silence ensued for a few minutes, only interrupted with your occasional sniffle. You sighed, sitting up and facing towards him. You gave a sad smile.

“Frank, I just want us to be normal.” Your voice cracked as the tears began again. “I don’t want this shitty military stuff anymore. I just want to be a normal couple who does normal couple things.”

“Oh, baby girl. Honey, I am so sorry.” He shushed as he sat up, holding you in his arms so tightly, as if he was afraid you’d shatter into dust and leave him forever if he didn’t. 

“Baby, we can be normal. I’ll take you to the movies, I’ll take you on more dates, I’ll bring you flowers, I’ll win you the biggest stuffed animal at the fair, I’ll even celebrate Valentine’s Day with you.” He kissed your temple, pulling you even closer as sobs racked your body. “Please, I just need you in my life.”

“Please don’t ever leave me.” You whimpered.

“Wouldn’t dream of it, doll.” He held you, strong and steadfast, guilt from the events that transpired earlier sweeping over him. “I couldn’t live without you. God, I’m so fucking sorry, baby girl.”

“Me neither.” The two of you remained there, locked in an embrace and peacefully silent. For hours, you felt as if he was going to leave you, and without him, you’d quite literally have nothing. Without him, you’d have to crawl back to the man that hurt you the most. 

To have the normally gruff, brash Marine sergeant here, admitting to you how much he needed you in his life, it almost felt that for once in your life, that you were a normal person. Not some brainwashed freak.

“I got you a present.” He pulled his head back to look at you. A soft smile creeped across your features. “It’s not as good as those beers you got me,” He reached over the nightstand, presented the bouquet of flowers. “And it took me forever to find, considering every florist was either closed or sold out. But you deserve this, and so much more.”

“Oh, Frank. They’re perfect. Thank you so much.” You gave him a quick peck, looking over the bouquet with a proud smile on your face. Your first flowers from him.

“Bell, I also have a very important question for you.” He smiled earnestly at how your eyes were lit up, just from flowers. You nodded, beckoning him to ask. “Will you be my Valentine?” 

Your happiness turned into straight glee as you practically exploded with joy.

“Yes, yes, yes, yes!” You exclaimed, pushing him down and straddling him. You giggled and peppered his face with little kisses all over as he grinned, chuckling along with you. “Of course I will.” You said softly, pulling back as you placed the flowers on your side’s nightstand. 

You returned to his side, cuddling up flush against his chest as he smiled down at you, like today never even happened. Your hands drew small circles on his chest and you sighed contentedly, this was a feeling that you had missed these past few months. Just you and Woods -- nothing else.

“Baby?” He hummed. You let your eyes close, the threat of sleep drawing ever near.

“M’yeah?”

“We’ll do something more fun tomorrow, okay?” Woods grinned as he also let his eyes close, pulling you even tighter towards him.

“This is good enough for me.” You lazily smiled against his chest.

So needless to say I'm odds and ends But I'll be stumbling away Slowly learning that life is okay

#pls excuse the title but tbh idc if the song is a giant meme #the lyrics just fit a wood x bell ship so nicely #frank woods #frank woods x reader #frank woods x bell #russell adler #jason hudson #bocw #black ops cold war #cod #call of duty #quizzy writes

[toms-cherry-trees]

Hi Mars, congratulations again on 1.5K, what a milestone :D Here with a gif blurb request for Polly, thought this gif could possibly be an interesting combo with angst. Excited to see what it'll inspire in you :)

This one was a challenge! So welcome to my first Polly writing ever! I did not know if you wanted it romantic or platonic or filial so I went for a motherxdaughter relationship. Hope this fills up the expectations!

And a most MASSIVE thank you to @runnning-outof-time aka lovely K for proofreading my first ever Polly writing!! ILYSM

Mars 1.5K Celebration

Smoke || Polly Gray x Adoptive Daughter! Reader

Warnings; Angst, some brief description of injuries, minor and major character death

The smacking of the bill stacks against the wooden table feels like a smack directly to your face; the two neatly piled wads before you hold more money than you’ve ever owned before and probably will ever own. But the money does not feel like tickets to freedom and peace; they feel like bricks tied to your ankles, dragging you to the bottom of an unknown darkness. 

Before you, sitting across the battered desk, Polly’s piercing eyes are fixed upon your wavering expression. She still dons mourning attire, even though it’s been long weeks since John and Michael went up in flames and smoke on an open field, each laid to the final rest in vardos and surrounded by every terrenal possession they ever held dear, plus a few lead bullets the coroners could not be bothered to remove. You had personally sewn each bullet wound up with needle and thread, wanting them to go onto the next life as whole persons and not just fleshy colanders. 

The minutes tick by loudly in the clock hanging behind her. While each second clocked in perfect sync, your heart hammers in erratic mess, blood rushing to your head and abandoning your legs, making your stand weak and shaky and threatening to send you to your knees. You have to grip onto the edge of the desk for support, your eyes closing as you focus on your breathing to stop the dizzying spinning of your head.

You exhale slowly to regain your composure enough to speak, but only one word leaves your lips “Why?”

“There is 2500 pounds in there. It is more than enough for you to buy a ticket far away from here, rent a place and get yourself a job” She speaks with the same certainty and professional tone she occupies during company meetings. As if you are nothing more than another employee in their payroll, and not a member of the family for the best part of your life.

“Polly, why?” You plead again, coming to sit across from her, staring straight into those stern eyes of hers through the smoke of her cigarette. With the white swirls around her, the Black Madonna around her neck and that black lace veil over her hair, she looks ready to start a seance. An aura of mysticism and ominousness that always drew you to her as a child, making you follow her wherever she went, hoping in your infantile mind to see her cast spells or speak to animals. 

“If you are ever in need of more, write to me at the office’s address and I will see that help comes to you, but you are not to set foot near any of us or into Birmingham. My driver will take you to your home to pack and then to London, but from then on you are on your own”

Oh, the Shelbys innate ability to ignore whatever others are speaking when it is not convenient for their agenda. But some of that ability had rubbed on you over the years; the key stood in being the loudest and angriest in the room.

“Polly!” You smack your fist against the table, rattling the glass ashtray and the neatly laid pens by the inkpot. Her eyes widen, but the bewilderment lasts only a fleeting second; she soon composes her carefully crafted cold facade again, the same one she has been wearing ever since the bullets rained like hellfire on her son and nephew. 

“Polly, why?” The hurt and desperation laced in your words do little to sway her unwavering indifference “Why are you pushing me away from my family” Your tremulous hands clasp hers tightly, your soul feeling like a boat facing the storm and clinging onto its last mooring for survival.

“We are not your family” Somehow, her retreating her hand from your loving grasp stings more than the words themselves, recoiling from your touch like she were retreating from a thankful beggar to whom she spared a few loose coins “What I did back then was charity, but it is time you find your own way. I cannot keep you under my wing forever”

Charity. Charity. Is that all she saw you as? A ward she took out of pity, and had now grown into a pesky burden?

The full story tangled and fogged in your mind, the fine details having been lost over time and life, but the bulk of it remained clear in your memory. Your parents succumbed to hunger and disease roughly around the same time Polly had her own children snatched away, taken away by the parish and the inherent cruelty they possessed for the poor and helpless. A mother who found herself with her arms empty, and a child who had no one to hold her; the turns of life brought you two together to fill in the gnawing gaps left within your hearts. Polly raised you under her guarding veil, surrounded by her candles and her saints and her prayers, and the quiet cries she often hid in her pillow whenever one of her kids’ birthdays passed. The smell of smoke and sandalwood evoked her memory in your brain. Her tender hands had braided your hair and wiped your tears in the same beat they had fired guns and threatened men and women alike.

The same hands that now pushed you away like a puppy abandoned on the side of the road. 

“I am not stupid Polly” It takes all your strength to not let your voice quiver “This is because of the Italians, isn’t it? Cause of what happened to John and Michael. You think they will come after me too” This has to be it, no? This has to be the reason. You cannot see it otherwise, why would your mother in all but blood reject you so abruptly? The logic feels so solid and obvious it soothes you in a way, and you cling onto that hope desperately. 

Her head falls back, a cruel, cold burst of laughter emerging from her lips “Don’t be stupid, they are after our family, not our employees” Another jab at your heart; Polly Gray is hellbent on picking at every soft spot you possess. And what could be a more sensible topic than your parentage? Taken in, raised as one of them, fed from the same table and dressed from the same clothes. But nothing changed your true status; an outsider. Never a true Shelby nor Gray; you were not her daughter, even if you had filled in during her absence for nearly twenty years

“Polly, you don’t have to do this” Your pleading words and your tearful eyes could barely show the true turmoil you feel inside “I don’t want to leave. I cannot leave you, not now! I can defend myself, you taught me how! Please don’t push me away” You never thought you’d feel pain like this; you had been too young back in the day to understand the grief of losing your parents, but now? You are thankful, for you are sure if you had felt such pain at that tender age, you would have died of a broken heart.

Polly remains silent as she methodically lights another cigarette, taking her time to inhale a long drag. The smoke swirls around her face and stings her eyes it seems; the corners have reddened and they seem watery. But she fans the smoke away with a harsh wave of her hand and picks up her purse “Enough of this. I have to go and so do you. My driver will take you where you need” She stood and slipped on her coat; a coat you had gifted her for her birthday, back when money remained tight. You had personally purchased the materials and tailored the piece yourself to fit her perfectly. 

As she makes an attempt to walk past you, you grab her sleeve, a vice grip around her wrist. But she keeps her back turned to you, one foot set forward and ready to exit the office. She tugs on your grasp, but you are not relenting. She is sand between your fingers and you are futilely clinging to the last grains

“Mother, please” Your voice is small, evoking the same tone you used as a small child, newly come under her care, still clinging onto the dream that someday your parents would return for you. The same vulnerability and innocence, and the maddening desire to not be abandoned again.

But your tears and your pleas do not move her heart. She yanks from your hold with such ferocity the seams of the sleeve snag

“If I see you back into the city, I will chase you out myself”

And those are the last words Polly Gray has for the daughter she no longer has

~

The whistling of the train urges the travellers to climb, steam filling in the platform as the train employees parade down the long row of carriages, slamming doors closed and helping late comers to haul their bags up. You sit alone in a compartment, your suitcases packed in the overhead shelves and a small pile of notes resting at your side. You have left home in such a hurry you did not have time to warn your landlady, nor your friends nor the woman for whom you babysit every Wednesday. You write letters for them offering sincere apologies and vague explanations, citing urgent work matters, blaming your health, and even adding the appearance of a long lost family member to excuse such a hasty departure. You do not include your new address, for you don’t have one yet; all that awaits for you at the end of the journey is uncertainty.

The whistle blows one last time, another plume of steam shrouding the platform. Amongst the mist you think you see her; black coat and black veil, and shoes brought from Paris, with the delicate heel and the golden crossbar over the foot. You stand so abruptly the letters spill on the floor, the pen shattering and spilling ink all over your hard work. Your hands and cheeks are pressed to the cold glass, but the crystal is fogged and you can barely make out any form outside in the cold winter afternoon. You see the black shadow moving away, and you smash your gloved fists against the glass, chanting her name like a prayer. But it is too late; the engine starts and the station is left behind, alongside your last hope of reconciliation and your home.

~

You are not sure you saw her, but she saw you. She saw you bent over something in your lap, brows furrowed in concentration and shoulders slouched. It takes a lot of effort to restrain her from calling you out and remind you to keep the shoulders tight, like she did so many times as you grew up from awkward childhood into comely adolescence. Polly wonders if you had time to pack food for the journey, and makes note to comb your flat later to make sure you have not forgotten anything; you are always so lackadaisical, one ought to give thanks your head is glue to your body. In the train travels a trusted aide of hers; he will tail you, wherever you go, to ensure you find a safe home and proper job. Every step you take he will report to her, and every person who crosses your path he will check to keep any wandering enemies away. That much she can do to keep you safe. That, and keep you as far away from herself as she can; the Shelbys are cursed, all of them, and they bring nothing but pain and death to those they love the most.

As the train at last begins to move, she rolls down her veil and walks away from your window. Amidst the steam and under the black gauze and lace, it is easier to hide the tears.

#marsie writes #mars 1.5k celebration #polly shelby #polly shelby x reader #polly shelby x daughter #shelby reader #shelby insert #polly grey x adoptive daughter #polly gray #polly gray x reader #polly gray x daughter #polly gray fanfic #polly gray fic #polly gray imagine #polly gray one shot

[greazyfloz]

MISS GIRL YOU HAVE BECOME MY FAV ACCOUNT OMG!!!

Unfortunately I have fallen under Michael Bunting’s spell so can I request something angsty “you win, I’m done” with him ?! 😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨

Hope you have a great day/evening <3

OMG I'M LITERALLY IN LOVEEEE WITH BUNTS!!!

Angst: 26. "You win, I'm done with this" w/ Michael Bunting

Two Years

Michael and I met when I first moved to Toronto a little over two years ago. It was almost like love at first sight because we Started dating around a month or two later. One thing about Michael, as he gets heated very easily on the ice, luckily, I have never experienced this. Michael firsthand.

Today was our two year anniversary and I already know that Michael forgot. I don’t know how he could’ve forgotten since last week. He told me that he was going to take me to the nicest places in Toronto for dinner after his game.

All day he said nothing to me about our anniversary, and I was going to hold off on saying it first. As he made his way to the door, I followed him, and he turned to press a kiss on my lips.

“Okay, bye babe. Love ya“ he says, as he gets to shut the door.

“bye Mikey, and oh yeah, happy anniversary to you too” I tell him that he stops from closing the door and re-opened it

“oh my God” he says, seeing I wasn’t amused, “fuck”

“it’s fine. See you after the game“ I say to him. He pulls out his phone to check the time.

“fuck, I’m already late” he says under his breath, “I’ll make it up to you I promise”

Even leave, shutting the door behind him, and I make my way up to our room. I open the closet and grab my leather pants and a white leafs jersey with his last name and number on the back.

After I’m ready to go to the kitchen and heat up something quick before receiving a text from Steph saying she was here. I take a couple of bites before realizing I wasn’t very hungry, then throwing it out and making my way out to her car.

“hellooooo” she says, excited to see me

“Hey” I say back trying to sound as excited

“wait, what’s wrong? you look sad”

She pulls out of our driveway and begins driving into the city.

“no reason to be sad, it’s Mike and I’s two year” I say, then look at the window as I hear Steph gasp

“he did not forget”

“he did”

“oh, my god no way. What an ass”

“oh, but he said he’ll make it up to me” I say, looking back at her as we drive through the busy streets of Toronto, “I really don’t wanna go to the game tonight”

“I don’t blame you” she says she turns into the parking garage.

We made our way into our seats with the rest of the wags. Steph was telling everybody that Michael forgot about her anniversary just out of the conversation we were having.

As the game went on, I noticed Michael was not having it. The team was losing and they were currently playing the Oilers who are typically a pretty tough team. I usually hold my breath whenever he plays the more rough teams because I know one day he’s gonna do something so stupid and possibly get himself hurt.

“I seriously cannot watch this“ I say to Gio’s wife and she giggles a little

“oh, I thought you’d be used to it by now“ she laughs

“how could I get used to that?“ I say, in a silly tone as a couple of the other wags laugh along.

Then his neck shift came. And I knew something bad was gonna happen when Kane was trying to get physical with Auston in front of the net. I watched my boyfriend skate around all the other players in front of him to jump on the player, taking them both to the ground.

“oh, boy“ I say, as I stand to try and get a better look across the ice.

I watch my boyfriend, get up from the ice after the refs pull him and Kane away from each other. I shake my head as I sit back down in my seat as he was put in the box.

When the next period came along, the game became more physical for all players. He really stood out as being the angriest player on the ice as I watch him, have a meltdown mouthing off of the other players.

The game ends, and some of the wags already go down. I said with Steph and Johnny’s wife and kids before we made our way down to ice level.

When we go down there, Michael and Mitch were already out chatting with some of the other players and their wives as he waited for me. When they noticed us, Mitch went right up to Steph giving her a hug and I walked over to Michael.

He wrapped his arms around me, but only quickly giving me a hug before pulling away. “oh, so now you can’t even act like I’m a good boyfriend?” he says quietly to me as he pulled away.

“what?” I ask and he ignores as he looks back up with the group.

“all right guys. We gotta head out now“ he says turning around and I follow him as we walk towards his car. He doesn’t say a word to me the whole way there. I’m thinking it must be because of the game and he’s taking it out on me which isn’t like him.

“Jesus y/n. I forgot our anniversary I know I’m sorry. but why the fuck are you going around telling everybody?” he says looking at me as soon as we shut our doors to his car, ” I told you I’d make up for it”

“I told Steph. And then she brought it up in a conversation we were having with the rest of the wives. So go fight with Steph about it” I say, rolling my eyes at him

“No! I wanna fight with you about it!” He yells at me

I laughed dryly before looking back at him, “just drive“ I say to Michael and he angrily throws the car into drive, stepping on the gas and speeding home.

We make it home, and I walk into the house, slamming the door behind me. I hear Michael re-open the door and enter.

“what the fuck?!” he yells out, and I turn around and open my mouth to say something back, but he beats me to it, “I forget a fucking anniversary, and you start acting like a psycho?! Seriously what the fuck is wrong with you?!” he yells at me and I feel the tears begin to form in my eyes. I lift my hand up to brush underneath.

“oh, for fucks sake’s you’re not actually gonna cry?!” he continues yelling

“yeah, I am” I yell back

“holy fuck, grow the fuck up and stop acting like a two-year-old! Are you still mad that I forgot about a stupid anniversary?! Huh?” he yells even louder than before making me shake a little before the tears really start streaming down my face, “stop fucking crying! I don’t know what game you’re fucking playing but I don’t wanna play“

“you win, I’m done with this” I say, quietly before, turning and locking myself in our bedroom. I walk over to the closet and grab a bag to put a few things in to last me until he goes on the road again. I hear him banging on the door, followed by a couple curse words.

As I get closer to the door I can make out what he saying better.

“what do you mean you’re fucking done with this?“ I hear him on the other side of the door. Fear takes over my body as I reach for the door handle and decide not to turn it. I take a couple steps back and just look at the door.

“open. The door.” I hear him say again as the door knob twists, “I just wanna fucking talk. We’re not over Because I forgot about our anniversary.“

With that, I open the door quickly, and he looks at me and he opens his mouth probably to yell at me, but I beat him to it this time, “no, we’re over because you’re acting fucking crazy”

“how the fuck am I acting crazy you’re the one breaking up with me because I forgot an anniversary“

“do you even realize anything you’re saying?” I say, finally brushing past him as I make my way to the door.

“Wait, you’re actually leaving?” he says, as he finally sees the bag under my arm

“yes Michael, goodbye”

#michael bunting #Michael bunting x reader #nhl imagine #nhl imagines #nhl writing #nhl fanfiction #hockey imagines #hockey imagine #hockey writing

[boybandbaby]

My Way

Pairing: Dad!Eddie x Reader; Other Characters: Elliot (Eddie's Daughter), Uncle/Grandpa Wayne, Robin Buckley, Mentions of Eddie's parents, Uncle Steve Harrington, Elliot's mom

Summary: You take Eddie's daughter to get a haircut, Eddie's not too happy about it.

Word Count: 4K+

Notes: Eddie's daughter was born Ellie but goes by Elliot (this fic explores her dabbling in gender expression, Elliot uses she/her pronouns)

Warnings: ANGSTY, light fluff, slightly mean Eddie (with reason), talks of bullying, parental abandonment, curse words. If there is anything I missed, please let me know.

“Hi, Dad!” Elliot cheers as she opens the front door to the trailer. She tosses her mini backpack on the couch before hugging him. Eddie is already bending his knees to reach her height. Even though she’s only 11, she's already super tall. The top of her head reaches just below his shoulders. “I got a haircut! Look!” She pulls her black and grey striped hoodie off of her head. 

Eddie's eyes widen and he gives an awkward smile. “Whoa! Look at you. It’s so short.” He grabs a piece of her brown hair and moves it out of her eyes.

“Do you like it?” She’s smiling so wide and Eddie doesn’t have the heart to tell her he doesn’t like it so he nods and pulls her in for another hug.

Meanwhile, you’re standing by the door, having just pulled your jacket off and kicked off your shoes. 

“I’m going to go take a selfie to show my friends!” Elliot screeches and runs to the couch for her backpack. She skips to hug you as you approach the two of them. Her arms wrap around your waist as she squeezes, mumbling several “thank yous”. You gasp, taken aback before laughing and hugging her back. 

You can sense that Eddie is not as excited as the two of you are. He’s watching you both and waiting for Elliot to leave the room. Once she shuts her bedroom door, he turns away from you. He busies himself by looking through the mail coupons on the kitchen counter.

“Eddie?” You say softly. “Hi. I missed you today.”

He completely ignores your statement and aggressively turns to the next page of coupons. He then slams the papers closed before turning to you and resting his backside on the edge of the counter. “You said she was going with you to the salon not that you were taking her to get a haircut.”

“Well, she was just going to accompany me and get her head washed and massaged but then she asked for a haircut and I didn’t think it would be a problem since you had been telling her that her hair was getting long.” You ramble. “Are you mad?” It’s a dumb question because you can basically see the steam blowing from his ears.

“Mad?” He scoffs. “Y/n, I’m pissed. Do you even realize how bad this is? She could get bullied for it. She already changed her name, I don’t want her to get hurt.” Eddie's voice is loud. His words and volume make Elliot jump. She tells her friends she has to go real quick and hangs the phone up. She quietly creeps towards her bedroom door.

“I understand that Eddie but she wanted it and she's so happy.” You sigh. “I’m sorry. You’re right to be angry and I should’ve called you first.”

“You can’t make decisions like that Y/n. You’re not her mom.” He growls. It’s quite possibly the angriest he’s ever been at you or even near you. Your heart and eyes sting at his comment, his tone, his complete vibe.

“I know I’m not her mom Eddie. I am well aware.” Your eyes water. “I was just trying to help her.”

“You think this is helping her? You’ve made things worse!” His voice raises. Elliot flinches. Her carefree, fun-loving dad is now a cold, bitter man.

“I’m sorry Eddie. What can I do to fix this?” You plead.

“Nothing. I think you should go.” He quiets down and looks towards Elliot’s room. He sees the door is still closed and hopes she hasn’t heard anything.

Eddie doesn’t respond to your goodbye, he doesn’t walk you out to your car, and he doesn’t answer your call when you get home.

Day 1

Hi, good morning my love Read at 8:04 am

Look, can we please start over, or maybe just forget about last night? Read at 7:09 pm

Okay, maybe that was a stupid suggestion. Can we talk about it? Read at 8: 37 pm

Day 2

Hi babe, I hope you have a good day today. I love you. Read at 8:20 am

Voicemail: Please don’t give me the silent treatment. We both said we’d never do that. We said we’d communicate our feelings and frustrations. You’re shutting me out. 

Goodnight Eddie. I love you. I hope you and Elliot had a good day today. Delivered

Day 3

Good morning handsome. I hope you got some sleep last night. Have a good day. I love you. Delivered

Voicemail: I’m literally making myself look pathetic trying to get you to talk to me, Eddie. I’m sorry. Please give me a call when you get this.

Elliot had begged Wayne to drive her to your apartment. She missed you so much.

“Please, Grandpa? I have to see her and apologize.”

“Kid, we shouldn’t get involved. This is between your dad and Y/n. I know you love her and want to see her but your dad would be really mad if I took you to see her.”

“But Dad is mad at her for no reason. He should be mad at me if anything. I just want to tell y/n that I’m sorry.”

Wayne sighed. “Kid-”

“Grandpa…” Elliot whined and pouted. 

“God, you have your dad’s eyes.” Wayne chuckled. Eddie always got his way with Wayne by giving his puppy eyes and now his daughter is doing the same thing.

“Look, we can just go for 5 minutes and we don’t even have to tell dad. He won’t even know.” 

“Fine.” Wayne groaned and grabbed his keys by the door.

Your entire being perked up when you heard the knock on your door. You hoped it was Eddie, here to let you apologize and hopefully make up for your mistake. When you opened the door, you had to drop your eyes. You were expecting to see a tall mess of curls but were met with a shorter set of curls.

“Hi! Elliot! What are you doing here?” You pulled her in for a hug. “Where’s your dad?”

“I’m actually here with Grandpa Wayne.” She smiles shyly and points a thumb over her shoulder to Wayne sitting parked in his truck. You both make eye contact and wave awkwardly. It was never awkward between you and Wayne. Eddie must’ve told him what happened. You didn’t doubt that.

“What’s going on?”

“I’m sorry.”

“What are you sorry for?”

“I know you and Dad aren’t dating anymore because of me.” Oh? So he did break up with you. “I’m so sorry.”

“Hey, it’s not your fault. This is on me. I promise.” You pull her in for a hug. “Whatever happens between me and your dad, it is not your fault okay? I’m the adult, I should’ve known better. I know I’m not your birth mom Elliot but I love you so much okay? I’ll always be here for you.”

“But I want you to be my mom.” She cries. “I love you a lot.”

Your unshed tears begin to stream down your face. “I love you a lot too.” You kiss her hairline. “Everything will work out, I promise.”

“But what if it doesn’t?”

“I’ll still be here for you. I’m serious about that.” You hold her by her shoulders. “You should head back.” She nods and skips down the steps, running to Wayne’s truck. He waves and then drives off. You can see Elliot watching you as she fades away in the distance.

Day 4

You don’t text Eddie today. You have to start slowly learning to be okay without him. Yesterday was too hard for you to handle. Not only will you be losing Eddie but you’ll also be losing Elliot. The idea hurts you to your core. It sucks. 

Eddie was good at keeping his emotions hidden. He’d done it throughout high school. When the bullies hurled insults and names at him, he appeared as if they rolled off of him but they truly stuck to him like magnets on a fridge. Eddie felt like he was dying inside. Ignoring your calls and text, replaying your voicemails just to hear your voice, scrolling through his pictures just to see your face, he was driving himself nuts. He knew a part of him was being selfish but he didn’t care. He was scared for his kid. His daughter was so pure and full of joy. He didn’t want her to experience life the way he had. 

Eddie had broken down after high school. Everything had hit him at once and he never fully healed from the jocks or townpeople who treated him as the Hawkin’s Freak. He was only 20 when he lost his virginity and got an older woman pregnant. Once she had the baby, she had left her at the hospital, only for Eddie to show up to an empty room with flowers. The nurses shoved the baby into his arms before he could process what happened. Elliot, born Ellie, had been the best thing in his life. Sure he was stressed and struggling as a single father but he had Wayne’s help alongside his friends. 

Then, on a sunny day at the park while eating a double scoop of chocolate ice cream in a waffle cone and kicking a soccer ball with Elliot, he met you. For the past year and a half, he had been the happiest he’s ever been. He has a wonderful daughter and a loving girlfriend but then he lets his past ruin it. 

“Dad?” Elliot's voice rings, breaking Eddie’s thoughts as he drives home from the grocery store.

“Yeah, kid?”

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m good kiddo.”

“You’re really quiet. Like abnormally quiet.”

“Look at you with your big words.” He jokes though the tone doesn’t come through.

“Dad,” Elliot says sternly. “I know something’s going on with you and Y/n. I heard you guys fighting.”

“We weren’t fighting. We just had a bit of a disagreement.” Eddie rubs his bottom lip with the top of his pointer finger.

“I know I’m only 11 but I’m not dumb ya know.” Elliot huffs, crosses her arms, and sit back in her seat. “I know it’s my fault that you two aren’t talking anymore.”

“Hey, that’s not true.” Eddie checks the rearview mirror, then the passenger side mirror before crossing lanes to park on the side of the road. He shuts the van off and unbuckles his belt. He turns to Elliot who is looking out of the side window. Eddie can see her watery eyes and quivering lip.

“Look, what happened between Y/n and I is not your fault, okay?”

“But it is! I asked Y/n to take me to get a haircut. I chose what type of haircut to get. You hate it and you’re mad.”

“I don’t hate it. Well, I do but only because I’m scared for you not because I don’t like the style. I’m sorry. You look beautiful. The haircut looks nice on you.”

“You know who’s more beautiful than me? Y/n.” She smiles. Eddie chuckles and ruffles his hair.

“I think you love y/n more than you love your own dad.”

“Ehhh, maybe.” she laughs. 

“I’ll talk to Y/n tomorrow. I’ll fix everything. Don’t worry.”

“Why did you get mad Dad?” Elliot inquires.

“When I was younger, I got bullied a lot. After my mom left, Wayne got stuck with me. He didn’t know how to raise me and we didn’t have a lot of money. I often wore clothes until they couldn’t be used anymore. I was really tall so my pants were above my ankles and my shirt sleeves were too short. Kids made fun of me because I didn’t have the new shoes that everyone else had or I didn’t have a brand-new backpack.” Eddie can feel himself getting emotional. “Even as I got older, I didn’t like the same music everyone else liked. People thought I was a devil worshipper because I played D&D. I’m just worried that kids will be mean to you the way they were with me.”

“Oh.” She looks down to her lap and plays with her fingers. “Is that why you were scared of me changing my name?”

“Yeah, I love that you want to express yourself in different ways but not everyone is open-minded. Especially in this town. People in Hawkins can be really old-fashioned and huge jerks.”

“I get it now. I’m sorry that happened to you Dad. But I’m strong. Plus I have you and Uncle Stevie to defend me if anyone is me.”

“Me? I can defend you. Uncle Steve? I don’t know, kid.” Eddie laughs. He buckles his belt and heads back home to put the groceries away and start dinner.

Day 5

Voicemail: I know we’re in a really weird place right now. I know it’s my fault. I get it if you want to stop seeing each other. While that would really hurt, I would respect your decision. I never meant to upset, hurt, or offend you, Eddie. I know Elliot is your daughter and not mine. I love her like she is mine. I should’ve asked you before taking her to get a haircut. Please just call me when you’re ready. I need closure. Thursdays are usually our diner date nights. I’ll still be there at 7 if you decide you want to join me. I’m sorry. I love you.

Eddie doesn’t show up. It’s the first Thursday Diner Date that he’s ever missed in your year-and-a-half-long relationship. You realize that maybe you’re actually done for good and he’s never going to give you a second chance. 

Eddie had been having possibly the worst day ever. He woke up late as his alarm never went off. He hadn’t been able to wake up Elliot which means she’s also late for school. Eddie checks his phone only for it to be dead. It was plugged in but not charging. He uses Elliot's phone to call his job and tell them that he woke up late and would be there in an hour. His boss had scolded him but told him he understood. 

Eddie let Elliot hop in the shower which meant he had to skip one this morning. He washed his face in the kitchen sink and got dressed in his usual navy blue coveralls. He had set two bowls of cinnamon toast crunch on the table while Elliot got dressed. He was desperately searching for the keys to his van when he bumped his hip into the already not sturdy table. His bowl of sugary goodness and milk spilled across the table. Eddie groaned and grabbed the roll of paper towels, scooping the mess into a trash can. 

Next, just as they were leaving, Eddie’s sleeve had gotten stuck on the door handle. He cursed to himself before slamming the front door and locking it. When he got to work, his boss had told him to do paperwork and maintenance of the store rather than his typical role of fixing cars. 

On his first break, he tried plugging a charger into his phone and it still wouldn’t charge. He ended up calling Robin to make an appointment for his phone. Robin had been working at Best Buy’s Geek Squad department as a manager and always worked on his phone. Eddie now had to add that to his list of shit to do. He still hadn’t even been able to call or text you to discuss everything that had happened this week. He knew he was being a dick for the most part but he felt it was mostly warranted as a father and former victim of bullying. He promised himself to call you as soon as Robin fixed his phone.

At the end of his shift, he called Wayne to let him know he would be late picking Elliot up from his place as he had to make up the time he was late for then get his phone fixed. Though Wayne only lived a few trailers down, Elliot stayed with him until Eddie got off of work. Eddie never wanted her to be alone and Wayne was more than happy to pick her up from school and spend some time with her. 

When Eddie got to Best Buy, Robin had checked out his phone and told him he had a piece of nacho cheese Doritos in his charging port. Eddie groaned at Robin’s laughter. She told him he would have to wait about an hour. After it was all done, she let him charge his phone for a few minutes before he paid for his services. They bid each other goodbye. Eddie tossed his phone in his pocket, he’d worry about it later. He just wanted to see his daughter and get home to shower. 

It was nearly 10:15 pm when he got home. It was past Elliot’s bedtime. She had done her homework and ate dinner at Wayne’s. Eddie directed her to wash up and get to bed. He kissed her forehead and walked to the freezer. After popping in a tv dinner, Eddie hopped up onto the counter and finally opened his phone. 

When Eddie opened his phone, he didn’t see any new texts from you but had a missed call. He listened to the voicemail and his heart broke. He had forgotten Thursday Diner Date Night and left you alone. He wondered if you were still there hoping he’d show up or if you’d left as soon as 9 pm hit. Eddie cursed himself out before dialing your number. 

He wasn’t surprised when it rang a few times but after more than 15 seconds of no answer, he hung up. He called again and again but all the calls went unsuccessful. 

Eddie: Babe, I’m so sorry. Where are you? Give me a call. Delivered

Eddie didn’t realize 7 minutes had passed. When the microwave beeped that his chicken pot pie was done, he jumped. The bathroom door opened and the light flickered off. “Dad?”

“You ready for bed kid?”

“You okay? You look flustered.” Elliot wiped her mouth with a towel. “Did you talk to Y/n today?”

“I-” Eddie stood up. “I forgot today was Thursday. Can you- can I borrow your phone? I need to call Y/n.”

Eddie thought maybe if you saw Elliot’s name on your phone, you’d answer. He wasn’t surprised that you ignored him the same way he had been ignoring you for the last few days. When you didn’t answer Elliot’s call, he knew something was wrong. You’d never ignore or be rude to Elliot even if you were mad with Eddie.

“Elliot, can you grab a jacket and put some shoes on? I know it’s late but we have to go to Y/n’s apartment.” Eddie bites his lip. He was feeling anxious and nervous, and scared. Did something happen to you or were you officially done with him? Had he waited too long to talk this out? 

Just as Elliot was putting a big black coat on, Eddie opened the front door and ushered her under his arm. “Y/n!” He heard Elliot screech. She ran down the three steps and down the dirt path to your car. You had two bags and a drink carrier in your hands. 

You smiled when you saw her. “It’s late! Where were you going? You should be asleep!” You attempted to wrap your arms around her. She grabbed the drink carrier and walked back up to the trailer. 

“Y/n, what are you going here?” Eddie asks. His tone is angry or mad, he sounds surprised. 

“Look, I know you’re mad at me but I wanted to make things right even if it means we’re broken up. I wanted one last diner date with you. You didn’t answer me and I know I made a mistake but I don’t deserve to be ignored or stood up so we’re going to eat and then talk this out until we come to some sort of conclusion.” You said more aggressively than you intended.

“Yeah, yeah of course. Come in.” Eddie stuttered. “We uh… we were on our way to see you actually.” He grabs one of the bags from you. You head inside to the kitchen, setting the bag on the table where Elliot has taken out the three to-go cups of orange juice. You pull out Eddie’s normal order of French toast with two scrambled eggs smothered in cheese, two slices of bacon, and sausage with hashbrowns and sourdough toast. You then bring out your favorite breakfast order and the next plastic tin is chocolate chip pancakes for Elliot. It had become a tradition to bring chocolate chip pancakes for Elliot to eat Friday morning before school. Elliot was chatting happily with you about her school week while Eddie stood watching you both set the table. 

“Dad, are you going to sit?” Elliot pulled his chair at the head of the table out for him. “You can eat the pot pie for lunch tomorrow instead.”

“I’m going to go wash up real quick. Don’t eat without me okay?” Eddie walked forward and kissed her hairline before going towards the room. He looked up at you, meeting your eyes. This is the most awkward interaction you’ve ever had. Even your first meeting wasn’t this awkward.

“Can I come with you?” You ask meekly.

“Yeah.” He nods. “Elliot, can you pack my lunch for tomorrow?”

“Sure, dad!” She shouts before running to get some Tupperware. Elliot loved helping Eddie pack their work and school lunches whenever they had time. They almost always made a similar sandwich and picked their favorite bag of chips and either a yogurt or pudding with a pack of fruit snacks.

You followed Eddie to his room. He went through his small closet for clean pajamas and underwear. No words were said between the two of you as you watched him. You cleared your throat before asking, “How was your day?”

“An absolute mess from beginning to end.” He sighed before slipping his combat boots off and then his coveralls. “What about you?”

“Not much of a mess but a shitty day.” You lean against the door frame. “I’m sorry for showing up unannounced. I don’t mean to be clingy or pushy. I really don’t Eddie but this isn’t fair for me.”

“I know, I know.” He turns to you. “I let this drag on too long. I got your voicemail today and immediately knew I fucked up. I can’t believe I didn’t show up at the diner. I’ve been such a jerk and you’ve been patient, I mean not really but you have.” You both laugh at that. “I haven’t been super truthful with you.” He tosses his clean clothes over his shoulder. He’s in a white tank top and black boxers as he stands in front of you. He scoops your face into his hands and looks down at you. “I’m so sorry for all that I’ve put you through this week. This whole thing has brought up a lot of emotions and memories from my past that I’ve kept hidden from you.” Eddie begins to ramble about Jason Carver and his dad in prison, his mom leaving, Elliot’s mom abandoning them, being the town freak, and being a three-time high school senior. He lets it all out in a long breathless ramble of tears. 

When he takes a big deep breath, you wrap your arms around his waist. “Is there anything else?” He shakes his head no. “I’m so sorry you had to go through all of that. I’m sorry that I brought up those bad memories. Thank you for telling me.”

“I’m sorry that I’ve been such an asshole. I shouldn’t have kicked you out that night. I should’ve explained why I was upset and scared for Elliot. I broke our promise not to give the silent treatment.” He’s near sobbing now. “I almost let you go because I couldn’t man up and talk to you.”

“Come on, none of that. Yes, you did some questionable things but you did them because you’re an amazing father. You care for your little girl. There’s nothing wrong with that. I love you.” You lean up for a kiss. Eddie wipes his cheeks before leaning down to meet your lips. It had been nearly a week since you both had any contact so you both were going to savor this kiss. 

“Foods getting cold!” You both broke away with a laugh. 

“You heard her, get dressed, Dad. I’ll meet you in the kitchen.” You pecked his lips again, closing his door so he could get changed.

Eddie shakes his head before pulling his hair out of his face with a hair tie. He finished changing into his Spiderman pajama pants and a white t-shirt. He then slipped on his “Grandpa Slippers” as Elliot called them before turning the light off and heading into the kitchen. He can hear whispers at the dinner table.

“So he doesn’t know you came to my apartment the other day?”

“Who doesn’t know what?” Eddie asks, making both of you jump.

“Nothing.” Elliot’s eyes widen, grabbing a piece of Eddie’s bacon and eating it. 

“Did you make your Granpda take you to Y/n’s?” Eddie sits in his chair and takes a sip of his orange juice. 

“No!” She squeaks.

“You’ve got your Grandpa wrapped around your finger. Just like me when I was a kid.” Eddie laughs. He looks up at you again and smiles. “You ready to eat?” Both you and Elliot nod. “I love you both. Let’s eat.”

#eddie munson x reader

[runwayrunway]

No. 13 - condor

Condor Flugdienst is a German airline which operates medium-to-long-haul scheduled and charter flights with a specialty in flights from Europe to locations associated with vacation and leisure, such as the Mediterranean. They’ve been doing this for 70 years now, but in April 2022 they unveiled an overhaul of their livery. They would get a quick start on rolling it out, as they very confidently ordered 59 new planes to paint it on!

Oh boy.

The worst thing about this livery is that it’s not a thoughtless choice. It’s very intentional and very thought out, and that makes me sad because I’m about to angrily insult someone’s earnest hard work. In fact, they have an entire webpage dedicated to their inspiration and thought process. It will be the source of all images and quotes used in the remainder of this review.

Vacations are striped. And Condor is vacation. Umbrellas, beach towels, ice cream shops..who doesn’t love them and the stripes will make you smile. They stand for easiness, freedom to experience the world, for the gentle breeze in your hair, sunshine on your face and now for Condor. In the future our fleet will also be in this new design.  For decades, stripes have had meaning in our way of life. Timeless, elegant and recognizable – just like us.

I hate to say it, but they’re right (despite the fact that the paragraph is written pretty jankily). That’s a really clever association that’s clearly been thought out and is very recognizable. Like, in isolation I really like this idea. It just sucks that it’s very ugly? 

I mean, it really doesn’t help that they picked a colorway that blends right into this picturesque island landscape for this particular shot, but I think what I’m angriest about is that despite committing to this absolutely vile candy cane look they didn’t even extend it to the wings and nacelles, which would have really hammered home the beach blanket look! Also, the black text is practically invisible and looks super out of place. It feels like they have this vision but they get so wrapped up in it that they mess up all the details and forget to make it good. 

But the green is very purposeful, too. 

Our five colors: Sunshine, Passion, Sea, Island and Beach. Colors are not only found around the globe on holidays, they also stand for the fact that our world cannot be defined by a single color. Therefore our “Fleet” is looking forward to a new design, visibly striped and colorful in Sunshine (yellow), Passion (red), Sea (blue), Island (green) and Beach (beige).

I really really like these! This feels really nice, the rare airline livery with an explicit meaning that reflects what it doesand isn't just vague corporate jargon about how the color blue somehow reflects Scandinavian identity. If you’re going to do a jellybean livery this is how you should do it - every aspect of the livery swapped, visible at a glance, bright and exciting, everything intentional and explicit in its purpose. 

I love the idea and it makes me angry that it looks hideous. 

Like, it could be good. They could have tried horizontal stripes, maybe, even diagonal stripes, or some sort of wave pattern to them. I don’t know. With how much care was put into the idea surely someone could come up with something better than I have. 

My friend @elyvator's (who took the above photograph) mother recently flew on a condor flight. There's something so surreal about seeing this big garish thing parked in a miserable soggy grey airport next to tarmac and a jet bridge and concrete.

You could miss the text entirely if you weren't looking for it. The stark white engine adds to the perception that the wing doesn't even look attached to the fuselage - like it's floating away. This doesn't belong here, and not in a good way. This isn't a plane that screams 'I might be on an awful rainy airport apron but I'm going to take you to a magical faraway beach', this is a plane as seen by someone still half-asleep after a party with a throbbing head while they're going downstairs to get a glass of water. And it had so much potential to not be that, to be something good. They came up with a great idea and then made every possible wrong choice in implementing it.

I can at least work up a bit of ironic affection for it, a sort of charm in its ugliness. It’s not the planes’ fault, and they wear it as well as they can. They’re still fundamentally cute to me. But that’s not what I’m here to judge. I’m sorry, airplanes. I'm sorry they did this to you.

This...this hurts me. It really does. 

condor is getting Runway Runway’s first ever grade of F.

I love the thought process. I love everything about the idea. This could have been so fantastic if only they didn’t make it ugly.

AN ADDENDUM

I still agree with everything I have said here. However, I have since slightly reframed condor's standing. To fully understand how I feel about this airline, I recommend this as a sort of part two to this post.

#tarmac fashion week #grade: f #region: europe #region: west/central europe #region: germany #era: 2020s #condor #leisure airlines

[yeetlegay]

Why Kinn’s voice fucks me up: a silly little analysis

I’ve been obsessing over this for a solid month now but haven’t seen anybody really talk about it in depth so I’m taking it upon myself to write this meta. Dw my brand as Unhinged Shit-Stirrer in the tag remains intact. 🤙🏻

This post is kind of hard to do without audio clips (and I’m way too lazy to do all that lol) but hopefully screenshots will still give you a sense of what I’m talking about.

First things first, let’s talk about Mile’s voice. Especially next to Apo, he comes across as a lot quieter, more reserved, and even when he’s excited his voice tends to be softer, not really high per se but lighter. My guess is he’d be a tenor if he sang, mayyybe a baritone with a more limited lower range.

In real life, interviews, BTS clips, etc, his voice makes him sound gentler, more mature, more approachable, even a little shy. His voice projects kindness and gives you the sense that he’s the sort of person you’d like automatically if you met him.

It would make sense then, in his role as Kinn, if he altered his voice, spoke lower or louder, affected a different timbre and tone, all to add to his appearance as someone dangerous and maybe even violent. It’s an obvious choice to make, given not just Kinn’s personality on the page but also the world he lives in, a world dominated by men and toxic masculinity where he’s already dealing with derision and snide comments for being openly gay. It would be completely reasonable for someone like Kinn to use every tool he can to protect and enhance his image and especially his masculinity, which would include his voice.

But Kinn doesn’t do that. Mile doesn’t do that. His voice stays more or less the same in the series as it does in real life, obviously with a little more dramatic tension involved. Kinn speaks softly, calmly, even when he’s at his angriest. Sure, he can go a bit louder in certain scenes, like when he’s running from those gunmen in ep1 or when that hot assassin is beating the shit out of him with her baton (ma’am I am begging u for literally just one date, pls), but there’s always a softer undertone to his voice despite the occasional need to yell.

So how exactly does the exact same voice manage to convey two totally different personalities and general energies? How does Mile totally embody this character who’s extremely dangerous, possessive, ruthless, and often violent, with that soft, gentle voice?

Because in the context of the story, that voice tells us something about Kinn. It’s intentional on Mile’s part, an interpretation of who Kinn is and how he interacts with the world, and it immediately breaks him out of the mold of this archetype that viewers will want to instinctively place him in.

In the first episode alone, that voice tells us three things.

1) Kinn is comfortable and confident in his skin. Does he have issues? Fuck yes. But he doesn’t give a shit about trying to appear threatening or dangerous. He expects that everyone already knows this. His quiet voice in moments like that first scene with the Italian mob show that he doesn’t need to appear anything. He knows he’s in control, and he’s confident everyone else knows it too. His reputation precedes him, and he doesn’t bother with projecting power through his voice when he already sees the power as his. (Another indication of this is his clothing. His suits could present as a kind of armor, and they do in a way, but he’s just as comfortable, emits the same level of charisma, when he’s in casual clothes or even matching silk pajamas. I won’t talk more about the silk pajamas because the things I want to say would all get god’s lightning bolt on me w a quickness.)

2) He’s a strategic thinker. He’s learned to keep his outward cool in almost every situation, and moderates his voice accordingly. Even when he yells, it’s well-controlled and only to make himself heard, not to show strength or aggression. In fact, his voice tends to pitch higher when he speaks louder, maintaining that softer undertone. It shows that he’s not reactive, that he’s working to manage his emotions and think ahead while he’s talking. All of that is external though; he’s still a freak and certified gay disaster on the inside.

3) He’s not cruel. He may look like it, may even want people to think he is, but his voice gives him away. His scene with Yok in the bar is staged to threaten Porsche, to make him nervous, but the way he speaks to her, even though it’s partly for effect, is still courteous and kind. He wants Porsche to feel the threat of that interaction, but he doesn’t make anyone else feel that threat unnecessarily. Yok may understand more than she lets on about what’s happening, but there’s no sign she’s overly nervous or uncomfortable around Kinn despite that. (As an aside, the low-class mafia comment and the way he says it is hot, but it also ties back to the first point. He has no need to force artificial authority or strength or power into his voice. His confidence and charisma speak for themselves, and he’s so self-assured that the people around him don’t need any reminders of who he is or what he’s capable of.)

There are a few scenes from eps 2 and 3 that stick out in my mind too where Kinn’s voice is especially important to setting the tone for the scene.

The coffee scene:

Kinn adds a bit of bluster to his voice in this scene, inflecting more and speaking just a little louder overall than he usually does in ordinary conversation. His body language and facial movements are also interesting here, along with the blocking, with him seated and looking up at Porsche, but that’s another post lol. Essentially he’s projecting his voice more, which he doesn’t do much with Porsche, and directing it upward to meet Porsche’s eyes. It adds such a subtle vibe to the scene that I didn’t even notice it on a first watch, but after seeing it a few times it’s obvious what his voice is indicating here: he feels bad. We know (from how he talks but also just the hints we’ve gotten so far) that he’s not cruel by nature or needlessly violent. He did what he did in the previous scene to protect Porsche, but he didn’t like doing it. I wouldn’t go so far as to call it real guilt. He’s practical enough to know he made the right call and he’s not close enough to Porsche to truly care about him yet. But I really think in this scene he’s working a little too hard to meet Porsche’s eyes, to act like himself. His voice is a little louder and more...provocative isn’t the word, but something like it, to give no room in the scene for any appearance that he does feel bad for what he did. This is one instance where he does raise his voice to project an image of strength and maybe even defiance, and all so Porsche doesn’t have any reason to wonder if he regrets hurting him. Babie behavior imo but go off king

The wound tending scene:

Kinn does this really fun thing where when he’s being possessive or reasserting his dominance (jfc Kinn are u gonna pee on him next, like ffs), he softens his voice, makes it a teensy bit slower, and enunciates very clearly. When he does this, it’s to make you lean in to listen, to make you pay extra attention. It’s a power play, and it’s interesting that he uses it so often on Porsche. He wants Porsche to lean in, to pay extra attention to him, and even if he thinks it’s solely to put an employee in his place, it’s obvious to the viewer that there’s something else going on.

The pier scene:

This is pretty much the first scene where we see Kinn really let down his guard and be emotionally intimate with Porsche, even if it’s only because he’s drunk and his inhibitions are lowered, as seen earlier when he was shaking his tiddies at Porsche like it was a Lizzo concert. It’s not just that he’s looser and smiles more easily and talks more freely; it’s also that his voice is lower, which lends a sense of intimacy to the scene despite the open space around them. He’s talking to Porsche, focusing his eyes and his voice on him, rather than at him. There’s also something about his tone that feels...idk receptive, like he’s speaking to Porsche on equal footing for the first time. It makes me wonder what he’ll sound like when he’s being genuinely affectionate and loving toward Porsche, because his voice here sounds like a taster of that even though they’re nowhere near that point yet.

In general, Porsche makes Kinn’s voice do things it doesn’t usually do. Kinn is actually a little less well-modulated with Porsche, given how much he gets under his skin, and it shows. His voice has more variety in it when he talks to Porsche; he swings from a soft murmur to a more brash, loud tone in the span of a few seconds. It’s like Porsche’s chaos is rubbing off on him a little, messing with his control. He feels more human because of it, more dynamic, which I think is a good indicator of how Porsche will change him more generally as a person.

Other posts in this series:

Kinn’s voice in episode 4: basically my man is losing it

Kinn’s voice in episode 5: Kinn, respectfully, go to therapy

Kinn’s voice in episode 6: aka Kinn’s Camp Rock “this is real, this is me” era

Kinn’s voice in episode 7: heart boners everywhere

#kinnporsche #meta #now back to my regularly scheduled shitposting

[robbinggoodfellows]

A very angry rant / personal essay about Wes Anderson parodies and the reduction of his style to just simple visual aesthetic

Recently, I became very invested in a show on Apple Tv called The Afterparty. That investment in it only grew when I learned that season 2 would be promising a “Wes Anderson style episode.” Naturally, as someone who takes a lot of inspiration from Anderson’s films I was excited to see what this episode would be like. I am no longer invested in The Afterparty and it is entirely because of this episode.

We’ve seen this before, the reduction of Wes Anderson’s entire style to just quirky characters and pastel colors. Anyone who participated in the Tiktok trend of recreating this style knows this. Of course, this is done with utter disregard for everything else that makes up his style.

This brings me to my detailed review of The Afterparty, season 2 episode 4. I believe my exact words were “I'm so disappointed.” I was legitimately infuriated with this episode, to the point where I can no longer watch The Afterparty.

First of all, just straight up copying exact things from Wes Anderson movies isn’t cool. This episode literally did the exact same montage from the beginning of Rushmore. I was pissed. Furthermore, this episode copies the easy parts of Wes Anderson without acknowledging the work the actually goes into his films. Just color grading your shots and putting text on the screen in a quirky font isn’t enough. There’s a certain cadence that Wes’ screenplays have, a certain way of speaking that this episode simply did not have. Actually I think the only character who had the line delivery down was Ulysses in his scene with Hannah. His short amount of screen time was the highlight of this episode for me.

Another thing that pissed me off is that Wes would never write lesbians like that (he would write them so much better.) Every analysis of Wes Andersons style as a whole has pointed out one thing in common between his films, they are all about relationships. Wether those relationships are platonic or romantic, maybe even familial relationships, they focus in how people interact with people. And that’s another place where I feel this episode fell short. Hannah and Grace’s relationship felt like it was on the back burner, like it wasn’t important. Of course maybe it wasn’t meant to be important, maybe the main relationship of the episode was supposed to be Hannah and Edgar. But then maybe they could have given the two more than five minutes of screen time together. It felt like they missed the mark on any of the relationships in the episode, even having Hannah be extremely manipulative towards Grace for no reason.

The part that makes the the angriest is, why didn’t they consult with Wes Anderson about his style? For non-fans of The Afterparty, you may not know that every episode is told in a different genre. This episode is actually the first one to describe its genre with the name of a specific director. That’s a big undertaking, even with a director whose style isn’t as bold as Anderson’s. The least the show could have done would be to ask Wes how he does it. Or just not make the episode.

I am very interested to know if Wes even knows about the episode or if he had any opinions on it. Especially now, with the release of Asteroid City which is now reaffirming for newer fans that Wes Anderson is not just a visual aesthetic or a quirky character. Rather, his films have deep stylistic choices that cannot be replacated . Wes is doing things that no other director is doing, and while I understand why that may make people more interested in copying his style, it is not the right thing to do. I truly don’t believe anyone except for Wes Anderson knows what Wes Anderson is doing. And that is okay. I just wish modern media would leave it alone.

#wes anderson #the afterparty #asteroid city

[rorywritesjunk]

I can’t tell where the journey will end But I know where to start

Prequel to my Kid Buggy fic, set about 11-ish years before that story.

Buggy meets you by chance when he needs his buttons sewn back onto his jacket. He’s young, up and coming, and he thinks everyone should cower before him wherever he goes, but all you do is smile at him.

Rating: PG-13ish just for some swearing. Warning: Buggy’s in his early 20s. He’s an asshole. He just is because I wanted to write him loud, demanding, everything. There’s 3 new characters thrown in because why not? Future Wife gets a name as well! A/N: I have no idea when Buggy became a Captain, so he’s a fresh faced captain in this. No clue how long this fic will be. I just started on the 4th chapter but I’m excited to write it out! I had fun with the original fic and decided to write the prequel to how they met. Enjoy! Also I wish every customer was like Buggy in that "I'm going to be an asshole but I'm going to overpay you for the opportunity to be an asshole".

Title comes from “Wake Me Up” by Avicii. TAGLIST: @lostfirefly @ane5e @kingofthemfingpirates @the-angriest-angel @tiredemomama @valen-yamyam16 @i-reblog-fics-i-like @plethora-of-fickleness

Chapter 1 + Chapter 2 + Chapter 3 + Chapter 4 + Chapter 5 + Chapter 6 + Chapter 7 + Chapter 8 + Chapter 9 + Chapter 10 + Chapter 11 + Chapter 12 + Chapter 13 + Chapter 14 + Chapter 15 + Chapter 16 + Chapter 17 + Chapter 18 + Epilogue

Chapter 2

It was five weeks until you saw that pirate again. You were at the counter while the girls were in the back working. Your boss was gone on an errand, leaving you in charge. This time he opened the door with a little less force than last time but the door still swung open and hit the wall. You looked up from your book and smiled when you saw him. 

His coat had a tear at the sleeve where it connected to the shoulder and one cuff was nearly coming off. It looked like he got into a scuffle while wearing it. He was scowling as he stormed up to the counter, removing the coat and holding it out to you. You took it from him and looked it over with a frown. 

“What happened?” You asked as you inspected the tear at the sleeve. “Did you get into a fight?”

You obviously chose to ignore what your boss had told you every day since he first showed up. Do not help him if he comes back. How could you not fix his coat up when it was in such a state? Not only were there tears in it, you saw the dirt staining the bottom and some blood on the front. You quickly gave him a look over, seeing that he appeared uninjured thankfully. You didn’t want to explain why there was a bloody and injured pirate in the shop if your boss returned early.

“Fix it.” He said, refusing to look at you. 

“Do you need help? Are you injured at all, Captain?” You asked as you reached over the counter to touch one of his gloved hands. Buggy jerked his hand away from you and crossed his arms, shaking his head quickly.

“I’m fine!” He snapped. “I just need it fixed!”

“Can you give me some time?” You asked as you draped the coat over your arm. “I’d like you to wait here in case I need to see you in it.”

You saw his face turn red at those words but you didn’t know why. All you needed to see was that the seams on the sleeve were correct once you mended them, to make sure it still fit him in the shoulders when he moved in it. He glared at you before storming out of the shop. 

“He came back.” 

You turned to see the two teens peeking through the doorway to the back. You sighed softly and smiled. “He did and he gave me his coat to fix.” 

“Miss Pins said not to help him.” Livia said as Edith nodded in agreement. You shrugged as you headed towards them. 

“Well, I’m in charge right now so I get to decide who we help.” You told them. “Now, who remembers how to get blood stains out? I’ll do the mending but I’d like you two to clean it, okay? This will be good practice.”

~

Buggy returned two hours later. You were at the counter again with Livia, showing her the books and how customers and payments were tracked. The teenager ducked beside you when he came in but you just smiled. Why did you smile whenever you saw him? Buggy wasn’t sure what your game was but he was suspicious of you already. You should be quaking in fear when he arrived, not smiling like you were friends with him.

“Your coat is ready.” You told him as you nudged Livia to go retrieve it. “I got it stitched up and the girls cleaned it. Can I see it on you?”

“W-Why?” He demanded as he narrowed his eyes. Livia came out with the coat and started to leave but you stopped her. “What do you want me to do?”

“I need to make sure it fits you in your shoulders.” You told him as you took the coat from her and approached him. He took a step away from you but you held it out to him, and after a minute long stare down he finally pulled the coat on. You stood behind him as he made sure the fit felt good, and you put your hands on his shoulders again, smoothing out any creases and looking to see how it fit him. “Now, see, Livia, we want to make sure he has movement in his arms when he wears it, which is why I didn’t go in so far with my stitches when I repaired it.”

Buggy turned around to face you, scowling already, but you took his arm gently and lifted it up, showing her the cuff you reattached. “And see, you don’t even notice that this was hanging by a thread when he brought it in. I made sure to re-enforce this cuff as well as the other to ensure he wouldn’t have any issue.”

Livia stayed by your side, nodding along with what you said as she tried not to look at Buggy. How could she not stare at the bright red nose on his face? She wanted to ask if it was real, and did it honk if he squeezed it? Occasionally her eyes would go to his face while you talked about cleaning the stains and the best way to handle blood, but she really tried hard not to stare.

It was difficult and when she looked up at him one more time, he caught her looking and glared at her. She took a step back and ducked behind you as he opened his mouth to say something not nice to her. 

“I’ll only bill you for what we did, but honestly it won’t cost much because you overpaid last time.” Your voice brought him back to you and he frowned. “So let us write that bill up real quick.”

He clenched his jaw and narrowed his eyes. “No, I’ll… pay the amount I owe.” 

“Oh, but last time-”

“I’ll pay you what I owe.” He snapped as he reached into his pocket and slammed the berry down on the counter. He didn’t wait for the bill, instead storming out of the shop once again. You collected the payment and counted it out again, shaking his head. He kept paying too much and you were wondering if you should open a line of credit for him if he came back.

~

The girls did not like Buggy. They thought he was loud, rude, and too angry. Your boss still wanted you to refuse service to him if he ever showed his face again but you didn't find him to be a problem. He came back two weeks later to the shop while it was just you, coat draped over his arm with the scowl forever etched on his face, though not as intense as usual. You smiled at him when you saw him and he tried not to look at you as he held it out to you.

“What happened now?” You asked as you took it from him and placed it on a hanger. You hung it from a book on the wall and began to look for any rips or missing buttons. Buggy crossed his arms, still not looking at you. “Captain?”

“There are threads that are too long.” He grumbled. “I need them trimmed.”

“Oh.” That was a bit of an odd request. “Can you show me where?”

He came around to you, pointing out where the thread tails were. You grabbed your little scissors and trimmed them as short as you could; some were less than a quarter of an inch long, but if he wanted it done then you would do it. You took time looking for any other imperfections, noting that the lining was still intact from where you had repaired it the first time, and the shoulder and cuff repairs were still holding strong. One button at the top of his coat looked like it may come undone in the near future, so you ducked into the back to grab a needle and thread to repair it.

Buggy remained quiet as he watched you work. You were quick to remove the button and old thread, wanting to make sure there was no risk of the button snagging and falling off. Every repair on his coat meant one less chance for him to stop by. Being a captain, you were certain he was busy, and that making time to try and get his clothes fixed would eat up valuable time, so you wanted to make sure he wouldn’t need to return any time soon. 

Once you finished, you held his coat out to him and smiled. “Can you try it on for me?”

“Why?” He replied as he did as you asked. Might as well since you ask him every time he’s come in so far. You stepped forward and made sure the collar laid flat before you buttoned the top button of his coat.

“I want to make sure it looks good on you.” You told him as you made sure the fit looked good. “I’m almost done with my apprenticeship and I was taught to make sure the customer was happy.”

Buggy frowned. “Why aren’t you scared of me?”

“Am I supposed to be?” You asked as you finished with the buttons and straightened up, looking him over. “It looks good on you.” Smiling, you gave him a thumbs up. “Orange is a great color on you, Captain Buggy.” 

He didn’t want to but he couldn’t help it. His cheeks burned at your compliments because he knew it was your job to tell him that. You said this to every customer, paid attention to all their details as well, so why was he feeling flustered just from this interaction with you? He didn’t even know your name but this was his third time stopping in for your help in the shop. He needed to sail away and never come back at this point. He didn’t want to see you if it was going to mean he blushed and his heart started racing, but at the same time, you had been nothing but kind to him. It was a little hard to stay away when he looked forward to seeing you smile at him.

Buggy reached into his pocket and you held your hand out to stop him. “No, no, it’s fine, I won’t charge you, Captain.”

“I’m going to pay you.” He grumbled as he pulled out the money. He took your hand, ignoring how he could feel the warmth of your skin through his glove, and put the payment in your hand. He pulled away and was out the door before you could stop him.

These little visits of his were starting to be a little… interesting to you but for some reason you were starting to look forward to seeing him.

#buggy the clown #buggy the clown x reader #buggy x reader #buggy x you #buggy the clown x you #opla buggy the clown #opla buggy the clown x reader #opla buggy x reader #opla buggy the clown x you #opla buggy x you #buggy the clown x oc #buggy x oc #sunny x buggy #one piece #one piece oc #one piece fanfiction

[technicalthinker]

My thoughts on the Loki finale will probably come out as scattered posts on different parts of it but for A SUMMARY under the cut:

That was like good? REALLY GOOD???

For the record: I think Loki as a show has had its ups and downs, like the middles of both seasons are shaky so I went in with the worst of expectations for the ending (also bc of mcu's track record in general with show endings). I was feeling some excitement but toned it down because I didn't want to get disappointed but.

Really from the moment I saw the 1 hour runtime, I was relieved and then it started and it made me laugh? it made me cry? It hit so many points; the groundhog day aspect, the character work etc.

But I think what really made it work that it was about Loki at the end of the day. Our guy. About his journey FROM THE FIRST THOR MOVIE to here.

Ya'll know I've been Lokius truthing on here but most of what I hoped for was them together at the end with maybe some implications, which got more and more likely as the season progressed (even then I went into last episode EXPECTING nothing lmao). This season wasn't really about the romance, they wouldve had to have been more explicit in ep 5 to build it up for the normies if they were going on-screen kiss or something.. But what we got?? Was this super focus on their relationship and dynamic and some implications,and a kind of half-open ending (which did not feel baiting at all to me theyre just utilizing that great relationship ya'll cHILL) but that leads me to

the heartbreak. The bittersweet ending of it all. The sacrifice. I started screaming when I realised but you know what??? IT WORKS. Of course I want a happy ending but the fact that things had consequences, and like, it felt like such a tribute to Loki as a character, his growth, that I feel like it really worked. Sometimes work of art hurts a bit, they make you think, and I think that really worked here. For a show that started with 2012!Loki being dragged there, his lowest and angriest point, to end it like this? Him saving his FRIENDS and being able to see them live out their lives? Just KNOWING that he got to be a hero? EXCUSE ME IF I LOSE MY MIND ABOUT IT.

And it still leaves things a bit open for future Loki appearances if they want to. I think the Mobius ending was specifically to open that door for the two of them to appear in future projects if they want to. BUT ALSO ABSOLUTELY CLOSES THE BOOK ON THIS AND JUST.

Man. Loki was a good show in the end, actually. A bumpy ride full of flaws but I'm glad I watched it Might go and rewatch last episode even.

#loki spoilers #loki s2 spoilers #marvel blogging #amanda rambles #loki #i will likely repeat some of these points in tags on other posts or go deeper into it but like. yeah. #WHEN MARVEL PROJECTS ARE GOOD IT'S LIKE!!! OH BOY TO HAVE FEELINGS AGAIN #IM ACTUALLY NOW SEEING A PATH TOWARDS AVENGERS MOVIES AND IM FEELING EXCITED ABT IT. IMAGINE!!

[egg-emperor]

Lord, Eggman just 🤤🤤🤤 angrily yelling at me and shaking me by the shoulders

Yes sir yell louder 🥴🥴🥴🥴🤤🤤😳😳😳

YEEEAAAHHHH I'm so crazy about the thought of him yelling at me angry and sternly disciplining me hfufuhdhgjhkfsb My first two games, Heroes and Shadow 2005 and show of X have moments of very angry and aggressive Eggman that first made me fall in love with it but every moment in every game always gets me like 😳💜

I wanna be good for him and I don't want my man to be so stressed and angry and have high blood pressure all the time lol buuut if accidentally messed up and got to experience his wrath and rage for myself, I certainly wouldn't complain and he can do as he pleases to make sure I pay for it and learn my lesson ;)

I'd love for the big strong angry scary man to charge towards me with big heavy stomps, yelling and growling

and grab me firmly and shake me in the strong grip of his huge bear paws like this 🐾 I definitely won't be going anywhere when he gets his hands on me, not that I'd want to if I had the choice anyway!

I want him to get right in my face and let it all out as he yells at me at the top of his lungs! Just like when he's at his angriest in Heroes to Chaotix over the walkie talkie, the solo Lava Shelter Egg Dealer scene, in X, Unleashed's Egg Dragoon fight, or Sonic and Tails R for a few examples because I always swoon. having him all up in my space when he's like that would be a dream 🥰💕

I'd be delighted if this were my exact P.O.V, I'd love it wouldn't mind if he spits in my face too hehe 🤤

Also love the thought of when he gets a bit quieter after that big outburst but still talks through gritted teeth and growls like this:

And when he finally stops to catch his breath after all that energy because I'll never fucking get over this audio AHHKJDHBJFKCBFHDJ:

Hearing that and feeling each of his hot heavy breaths against my face, having him so close his forehead and nose are pressed against my own, and the intensity of his harsh glare into my eyes would get me so weak with my heart racing! I'd love it especially if he wasn't wearing his glasses to see the coldness of his icy blue eyes... 💙

Still keeping his tight grip on me and his soft, strong, heavy body pressed against mine so I'm trapped there and have no choice but to look right into his beautiful eyes and listen closely, he speaks in a harsh lower quieter voice with more words for me to make sure I got all that or else and his hissing whisper makes me shiver.

He's so intimidating and despite my trembling, I look up to him with love and fear in my eyes because he's so dreamy. I can't help but admire the fire in him and the tension and he looks so handsome with a deep frown and gritted teeth, just as much as he does with a beautiful smile! He's so loud and gruff and growly like a big scary fierce bear 🐻😍

I want him to scare me and get my heart rate up because it's so shocking and intense that it's thrilling and exciting. It's the same as when my heart is thumping and blood is pumping with love and excitement for him, only it's from the heat of his rage and roughness in the physical confrontation this time and I feel the love arrow go through my heart all the same! 💘

He'd notice that I like it with the obvious signs but also that there's still fear in my eyes and how I tremble with shaky breaths along with the excitement, so he's satisfied to make an impact. He'll judge and tease me, scoffing like he thinks I'm pathetic but a smirk slowly spreads across his face, proud that he can make me fear him but also crazy for him because he's that great.

Then he grabs me again to kiss me roughly this time and tells me there are ways to make it up to him and relieve him from the stress. He has a lot of things in mind for me involving a bit of "punishment" that I'll very happily take and prove I want to be good and loyal for him and I've learned my lesson to do better next time- but if I don't he'll make sure I'm dealt with accordingly 🥴💘💜💕

Oops I got a bit carried away, can you tell that I think about this a lot hdhbbskgnsbdkg

#another reason why I don't need him to be soft sweet and kind #why would I wanna lose this side of him dhskgksjgksh #asks #dr eggman #eggman #dr robotnik #dr. eggman #self ship #self shipping #f/o #self insert ship #self ship community #self insert shipping #my post #audio #anger

[quinnpriv1]

[octa, dommish/top azul]

Floyd wrinkles his nose at the sight of Jade lording over him, Azul right beside him with his arms folded across his chest. “Seriously? You’re punishing me and not him?”

“He’s on parole,” Azul mutters, irritation written all over his face. Jade is on thin ice and he knows it, beaming with excitement about the prospect of pissing Azul off. Backstabbing bitch, Floyd thinks.

If possible I’d love to see something like “brought to heel” or “no risk no reward” but with the twins/Azul and with top Azul. Maybe they both ruin a deal for him and he decided to get back by teaching them a lesson since they were being bratty.

(here’s a bite-sized fill for you! i had to brainstorm thoughts with a friend about how to make this concept work lol but this seemed like a solid solution 😂)

Floyd wrinkles his nose at the sight of Jade lording over him, Azul right beside him with his arms folded across his chest. “Seriously? You’re punishing me and not him?”

“He’s on parole,” Azul mutters, irritation written all over his face. Jade is on thin ice and he knows it, beaming with excitement about the prospect of pissing Azul off. Backstabbing bitch, Floyd thinks.

It starts off slow. Even at his angriest, Azul never truly wanted them to be permanently harmed. Some sort of magical instrument has been strapped on his neck to keep him from moving, but the only thing it serves to do is keep Floyd focused on Azul’s loafers, groaning when he grinds a heel into his groin.

He’s in pain but it only riles him up more when Azul rests fingers around his neck. Far from an idle threat. “I don’t expect an apology.”

“Good. ‘Cause you’re not gonna get one,” Floyd slurs, cheeks flushed when Azul presses down. He’s always been enamored with power and the predatory part of him roils at being chained, but the part of him that likes Azul is starry-eyed. Charmed.

It continues at a languid pace until Jade talks, goading Azul. He talks and he keeps talking because he can’t help himself and it’s no surprise when Azul snaps and collars him just the same, whisking his cane and casting a spell so fast that Jade can’t dodge it, or maybe he doesn’t want to.

Both of them are immobile, on their knees, wild animals with glowing eyes. Jade has the energy to bite and Azul grabs him by a fistful of hair, twisting his nipples.

They’re delirious and drooling by the time Azul pulls away, bruised and winded.

Azul grimaces when he finally bothers to examine them properly. “Must the two of you take such pleasure in these things? It makes all of this rather moot.”

“The response is psychosomatic,” Jade replies, wholly unbothered. He’s stiff where Floyd is leaking, made of sterner stuff. It wouldn’t be long until he tipped over the precipice, however.

“What he said,” Floyd drawls, aching for friction.

Azul sighs, long-suffering. “This is going to cost you.”

“Doesn’t it always?” They ask in unison, smiling fondly.

He peels off his gloves and gets them off perfunctorily. When he’s done, he stalks away, and this part is always the worst, but they’re used to it. Azul will come to get them when he’s decided they’ve had enough or when he gets bored of being by himself.

Behaving for the rest of the day begets them the reward—smacks on their asses and Azul’s fingers inside.

They could go a few hours without causing problems.

#txt #retro fills #idaz #octatrio #twst