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#it's legitimately just one more season
saltpepperbeard · 5 months
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hi everyone how are we doing i'll go first i'm doing Bad :)
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artemis-73 · 3 months
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Not to late night vague post about supernatural BUT maybe people view Dean as Jack's dad not because destiel shippers are delusional freaks but because that's how Jack sees him.
In 14x7, Jack specifically seeks to replicate a happy memory Dean had with John. And similarly to how Dean has a complicated relationship with John, Jack has a complicated relationship with Dean. (The biggest difference here is that Dean wasn't Lucifer's super powered atom bomb capable of ending the world as we know it, but that's a conversation for another day.)
Jack consistently seeks validation from Dean in a way he doesn't with other characters (except maybe Cas but also Cas is so soft with Jack that the validation is freely given. Love that for them) From day one, he's copying Dean and wanting to be like him. Their relationship is extremely toxic (just like most things in spn), but that doesn't mean it doesn't exist.
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lupismaris · 1 year
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I'm just gonna complain in the tags tw medical stuff tbd etc
#its the final stretch and i refuse to will anything into this universe other than this is the final stretch im having treatment and it ends#this is the end of this here and now i will not continue to live like this i cannot continue to live like this i cannot carry this fatigue#any further genuinely i cannot its not a matter of will not anymore i just... i cannot. im legitimately still hiding at the office#despite everyone else having gone home because it takes too much effort to gather my things and walk to my car and im afraid of falling#i forgot my cane at home and its cold and my body struggles with temperature regulating and seizes up so badly#but the fatigue has finally reached a point where its hard to lift my bag or put my coat on or my jewelry without help#or walk across the parking lot just to get to my car and its not like the usual hey we have to adjust to new level of disabled#it's fatigue kneecapping you put of nowhere with a tireiron until you can barely loft your bag or fix tea or prepare dinner#and the fact the all the joy of food has been robbed from me because everything takes so much goddamn effort now#everything takes ten more steps and an hour more planning and special ingredients and yes i know lots of people live like this always#but i haven't and its been a forced short term adjustment period with absolutely no support from medical professionals#and im the only cook in my household/family/immediate social circle so all the labor inevitably falls on me not out of malice#but by default even if they try to help they can only do so much because they dont know what to do#i am literally on the verge of a meltdown just thinking about how much effort dinner is going to take because i cant just#eat a fuckin box of easy mac or ramen with an egg and go to bed no I've got to make a special soup with special ingredients#or a proper balanced meal with protein and veg and whole grain and certain seasoning#and im just so fuckin tired im so goddamn tired if this radiologist doesn't come back and say i can eat freely come Friday#i genuinely dont know what im going to do#food is one of my greatest joys and to be limited even in such bizarrely simple ways requiring so much excess labor#is too much. its too much on top of all this hypothyroidic fatigue. i cant do it.#i dont want to go home and make a fuckin soup. i want pizza. i want take away. i want lamb curry and rice. i want food i dont have to cook.#god im so fuckin tired my body feels so ancient like something wrecked in the seabed being involuntary hoisted to the shallows again#and im not sure its going to survive the process. i mean it has to. we dont have a choice. but fuck.
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galaxseacreature · 11 months
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Last week I helped with a training for one afternoon and we were in a lovely little park by a lovely little stream and many of the salmonberries were ripe! And I couldn't figure out how that snuck up on me so completely. Someone pointed out that it's June and I just laughed it off as how time flies by. Only many hours later I realized-it’s because of my new job. I started at the beginning of May. A month of not being significantly outside near daily after two years of it. That's all it took. Such a short time to come so untethered
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skitskatdacat63 · 11 months
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Oh...
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#tho im confused bcs i dont remember my calender giving me notifs about fp1 and fp2#but seeing this im like ....ah :(#also i dont think ill ever call this gp by its proper name#its either Imola or San Marino for me#(kinda laughing at myself from months ago when i was writing down race watch checklists)#(bcs sometimes id put the track name rather than the country)#(like writing down Nürburgring(Europe) rather than just Europe or writing down Suzuka(Japan) instead of just Japan)#(like bro those lists are only for my eyes why did i feel the need to flex that i know the track names LMAO)#(i understand writing Imola *now* instead lf Emilia Romangna bcs its a lot shorter)#(but why did i write Imola and Monza for my 2005 checklist rather than San Marino and Italy)#(again: flexing that i know the tracks but to myself i really dont understand my past thought processes sometimes)#but speaking of race checklists#I wrote down the schedule in my notebook before the season began like by a few months i think#i had to cross out the numberings bcs china got canceled AND UGHHHHHH NOW ITS EVEN MORE MESSED UP#i dont even reference that schedule bcs its all in my phone calender but just its mere messed up presence bothers me sm#so like its 22 races for sure now right? like i can call monaco round six yes? i think its 8 in my book lmao#but UGHHHHHH the fact that all the races are moved back one is gonna get on my nerves so badly#bcs i have a legitimate checklist i fill out and now its inacurate....i swear if imola gets rescheduled i will just burn the notebook#anyways :)#still havent done thst placement exam bcs i got sidetracked and now its 6:30 am! i need to sleep!#catie.rambling.txt
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quibbs126 · 2 years
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Something that legitimately gets to me about TMNT 2012 is the fact that Karai was not allowed to become a consistent member of the Turtle team or even much of an ally till like, Season 4
Like come on man, I would have loved that! Vengeance is Mine gave us a hint of what we could have had and I really liked it, why was she just thrown to the wayside? Because she’s not typically an ally of the turtles? I mean come on, Casey got to join the main cast this season, why can’t she, it would have been so interesting to see her dynamics with everyone
How would she interact with the other turtles now that she basically has four new brothers? How would she interact with April? Would she maybe help April with training because she’s a trained kunoich herself? What would her interactions with Casey be like? I don’t think they ever actually interacted in a meaningful way in the actual show. What crimes would they commit?
god, just wasted potential
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shmeiliarockie · 4 months
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There's something off kilter in the character design for Adrien in the Miraculous movie, but for the life of me I can't place my finger on what it is that I don't like.
I need to see the movie, but I don't currently have Netflix and don't want to give them any more of my money for at least a year. If it was on Disney+ like the series I would have already watched it, bc I have access to my parents' account. But NO it had to be Netflix. Bah.
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gothamcityneedsme · 6 months
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god im still thinking about how everyone goes on about how terry ''has a record" and like. HE WAS 14!!!! GOD!!
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barcaatthemoon · 12 days
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most likely to || lucy bronze x reader ||
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you and lucy do a couples' interview for the media team.
media days had always been some of your favorites. it was generally a lighter training for you, unless they wanted some footage that day. today was a special media day, something that jona had asked you about after you and lucy came forward with your relationship. it had been a bit of a process for you to convince lucy to do the interview with you, but you knew that she was starting to get excited as the day drew closer throughout the week.
"ready to go?" lucy asked as she stood in front of your cubby. the interview had been arranged for post-practice, but you doubted that they had taken into account how long it took you in the shower. lucy had been ready for at least 20 minutes, not that she could ever mind waiting for you.
"tie my shoes for me?" you asked, since lucy was already in front of you. she rolled her eyes at your request, but knelt down to do it anyway. you knew that the eye roll was just because your teammates were around. lucy generally did all sorts of little things for you throughout the day, claiming that she always wanted you to feel like a true royal. "thank you, luce."
"you know, actions speak louder than words," lucy said. you didn't even have to wait for her to tap her cheek before you were leaning in to give her a kiss. lucy was absolutely beaming as she stood up completely, a light pink blush on her cheeks now.
"wait!" you called out as lucy started to move. you stood up and pressed a kiss to her other cheek. "you did both shoes."
"i double knotted both shoes, actually." you put your arm around the back of lucy's neck and pressed a kiss to her lips this time. behind the two of you, jana was gagging while pina and patri pretended to make out. it felt sort of wild that at the beginning of the season, you had been in their group making fun of the other couples on the team before lucy asked you out.
"one day maybe you'll all get girlfriends too and know what it's like for someone other than your mothers to love you," lucy teased. you swatted at her arm as you mumbled for her to be nice. pina and jana both grumbled as they sat back, but patri started to launch into a full blown rant about how she was more than happy being the "barcelona stallion" and sleeping around for the time being.
"do you see what you've started?" you asked, but lucy showed absolutely no remorse. she just grabbed your hand and walked you out of the locker room to get properly ready for the interview.
"alright, we're just going to play a simple game of 'most likely to' today. i'll ask a question, and you just point to whoever it most likely to do that thing." both you and lucy nodded, having a good understanding of the game. "first question, who is most likely to accidentally sleep in?"
"pssh, this is an easy one," lucy said as she pointed at you. admittedly, you had overslept quite a few times over the course of the season, resulting in both you and lucy being late to training. lucy was a lot worse at getting you up than alexia had been, the other woman often resorting to literally dragging you out of bed in your first senior season at barcelona.
"hey, my brain needs the sleep. it's still developing!" you tried to argue. lucy just laughed, knowing that you usually overslept because you stayed up way too late the night before. although, she did know that you could sleep absolutely anywhere, which she was slightly jealous of.
"who is most likely to burn dinner?" this time, your hand shot straight over to lucy. you had several legitimate examples of her doing this while trying to make sense of a spanish recipe. it was less that she was a bad cook and more that lucy was too stubborn to ask you for a translation.
"it was one time," lucy grumbled. you smiled and pressed a kiss to her cheek, which had her swatting you away from her with a pout.
"who is most likely to get a little too wild on a night out?" this question was a plant and you knew it. someone had to have told them to put this in to embarrass you, probably patri or mapi. they had been the two who had fed you shot after shot on a yacht just a few months ago, resulting in a unique combination of seasickness and drunken puking.
"life of the party this one," lucy teased. she reached over to pinch at your cheeks, earning herself a sharp slap to the knee. "and a bit mean. i don't know how i put up with her."
"whatever," you huffed as you crossed your arms.
"who is most likely to have an extra cheat day?"
"she actually has more in her meal plan than me," lucy answered. you couldn't argue with her there, thankful for the fact that you burned through calories more due to your extra strength training. jona and the other coaches had agreed to let you bulk up a bit, and it was definitely paying off on the field.
"i mean, look at these muscles." you flexed for the camera, knowing that it would end up in endless thirst edits later on. you reached for the bottom of your shirt, but lucy stopped you. she didn't mind you being a bit goofy, but she tended to get jealous when you actively showed off.
"who is most likely to get a little hotheaded?" your hand shot over to point at lucy, who had definitely snapped at some of your friends and teammates for getting a little too close to you. lucy shrank back in her seat, embarrassed from being called out.
"i can't help it. look at her!" lucy shouted as she threw her arms up.
"who is most likely to be considered whipped?"
"oh without a doubt lucy."
"(y/n)." both you and lucy looked at each other for a couple of moments before lucy recanted her answer. "from the outside, it may look like i do a lot for her, so maybe it is me."
"alright ladies, we are almost finished. just one more question, who is most likely to be the little spoon?" this time, you knew exactly who had asked this question. surprisingly, it wasn't any of your friends, but rather alexia. she had walked into your bedroom to wake you up for training only to find lucy bronze fast asleep in your arms while you watched her. lucy claimed to have not felt good, but alexia knew better.
"someone's taking the piss out of me with these questions," lucy grumbled as both of your hands pointed towards her. "in my defense, sometimes i just turn away because she clings worse than a koala. she just kind of grabs at my back."
"that's almost as good as the excuse you gave alexia," you laughed. the production team called cut on the video, allowing for you and lucy to finally go home. "wow, if i knew that it was that easy for you to admit that you were whipped, i would have just asked to do one of those earlier."
"people didn't know about us earlier," lucy muttered as she pressed a kiss to your lips.
"not officially, but we were the worst kept secret in the league. you did feel me up on the pitch the first game after we got together," you reminded her. lucy huffed as she rolled her eyes, knowing that wasn't the entire truth. you were giving out hugs to everybody, and lucy's hand had simply slipped a little when you jumped into her arms.
you knew immediately the day that the video dropped. the locker room was quiet, but not in a focused way. it was like they were waiting for someone, and once you and lucy were both sitting in there, chaos broke. cata was the first one to sit next to you, putting her arm around your shoulders as she pulled you tightly into her side.
"careful, lucy might get mad. she's a bit of a hothead." if those words had come out of anybody's mouth other than vicky's, lucy would have flipped a little. the fact that it came from the kid's mouth meant that an outburst was narrowly avoided.
"she doesn't seem very clingy to me. are you sure that you don't just like being the little spoon bronzey?" cata asked as she tried to get you to hug her back.
"i think that's enough," lucy said sharply. she walked over and tugged you out of cata's arms. she wrapped her arms around your waist and pressed her face against the side of your neck. "i won't lay a finger on her, but i'll kick your ass coll."
"lucy," you warned. she huffed from behind you and tried to find something to distract herself with. unfortunately for you, the team was intent on riling lucy up for the rest of the practice. it was to the point where you weren't sure that she'd be happy with you when you got home. the interview had been your idea in the first place.
"that lot is due for an ass kicking," lucy groaned and grumbled. you hadn't seen her so grumpy in a long time. she flopped back against the couch and let her head fall back as she closed her eyes. you didn't notice the way that she was waiting for you to come crawl into her lap, not until she cleared her throat. "are you coming over here or not?"
"you want me to sit by you?" you asked her.
"no, i want you on my lap. i want to hold you for a little while, please." lucy pouted up at you. your lips curled up as a wide grin broke out onto your face. you kicked your shoes off and scrambled into lucy's lap, content to let her hold you. you didn't like being the little spoon, but you absolutely loved to curl into your girlfriend's lap at the end of a long practice. "that's better, isn't it?"
"much. te amo, lucy," you mumbled as you pulled her in for a kiss. lucy surprised you by keeping the kiss innocent. she broke it after a few seconds to press her forehead against yours.
"te amo, lovely." lucy brushed her hand through your hair, smirking to herself as you relaxed against her. she may be whipped by everybody else's standards, but you absolutely melted any time that lucy touched you. it was a true testament to just how much you loved her.
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avelera · 7 months
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Man, I just put back on OFMD 1.05 (the fancy party episode), and I think one really worthwhile itemization of Stede and Ed interactions would be around how many times Stede appears horrified by Ed's actions, but actually, he might really be horrified for Ed.
And I only bring this up because one common, I think, misinterpretation of Stede was that he's horrified or put off by violence. Understandable, given the face he pulls when, for example, Ed tells Fang to skin the French captain with a snail fork.
But now that we've Season 2, albeit eps. 1-3, including that gorgeous moment where Stede immediately clocked that Ed's trying to burn down the world or die trying, thus signaling that he knows Ed better than anyone, especially Izzy, ever expected... I think we can firmly put the, "Stede doesn't really get Ed," interpretation firmly to rest. It's totally fair that it existed! His facial expressions of horror were often ambiguous and could be read either way.
But I think we can very firmly say: All those times Stede seems horrified at Ed? He's horrified for Ed.
Even in the moment where he sort of gulps when Ed wants the French captain skinned was sort of re-written in my mind as I watched it, in light of Stede getting Ed so well in S2. Suddenly it's not Stede taken aback by extreme violence, no.
Stede is realizing just how deeply hurtful the French captain's words were to Ed. He's not taken aback by the violence of Ed's orders, he's horrified to realize that the French captain's words hurt Ed so badly that this is a proportional response.
Stede doesn't give a fuck about the French captain, by the way. He doesn't lift a finger to prevent it, not because he's afraid, I'd argue, but because he legitimately does not care. The dude is more than a little bit of a sociopath himself, alright, he's adjusting to pirate life but he has also fully embraced pirate life.
And by the way, you don't have to take my word for it that Stede's reaction of horror is for Ed not at Ed, y'know why?
'Cuz of what Stede says in the very next scene, "Edward, are you alright? I could tell that captain got a bit under your skin."
(Haha, get it? Because you skinned that man alive. But I digress.)
No but seriously, Stede does not care about skinning that man alive, whether or not we believe Fang really did it. His priority #1 here, as it will be in Season 2, writ large, is to first make sure Ed is ok and then to help arm him against pain like that in the future.
And all I'm saying is, I bet if we went through each and every other instance of Stede "reacting badly" to Ed's "violence" in light of S2 and Stede getting Ed and only really caring about Ed unless reminded to do otherwise, that all of those reactions are actually Stede reacting with horror to learning what kind of pain Ed has been laboring under, or what kind of pain he's in that he would react with violence to verbal attacks like that.
Because that is something Stede can understand very well.
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bowieandqueen11 · 7 months
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Love For You / Izzy Hands Imagine
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Request: I just found your ao3 account a few days ago and your writing style is excellent! Legitimately some of the most visual and evocative writing I've seen on that website, and I've been devouring your izzy hands fics since I caught up on season two! Can I request another izzy x reader post-amputation and just the reader caring for him while he's pining hard? Maybe the reader has some medical experience so they've been able to help him a little better than the rest of the crew, making sure he's taking time to heal in a difficult moment (physically as well as emotionally, god knows he needs that.) Letting him know he's loved and him realizing he hasn't...heard someone say that to him or treat him this gently in a long time
Thank you so much that's so kind of you to say, it's so lovely people finding me from AO3!! Honestly one of the best feelings, and goodness knows Izzy needs this :)
Okay so I haven't been able to watch the new season so all my knowledge is coming from Tumblr gifs and posts, so I really hope this isn't too ooc my lovely!! Anyway let's get this man some comfort!
I spent all day writing this, so all comments are much appreciated! Thank you! :)
Warning: mentions of blood/injury, mentions of physical abuse, mention of smoking, kissing and some strong language!
(I do not own OFMD or its characters, all rights go to creators. Gif credit goes to @goodsirs.)
☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°
Something monstrous seemed to be creeping up the shuddering walls.
No, it wasn't the stifling silence that had seemed to envelop those of Blackbeard's crew still left, hiding their heads between their legs and closing their eyes as they felt the quicksand drain out through the fingers. Nor was it the creaking organ snore of Wee John thrumming up the timber; the rest of your usually upbeat crew grew despondent as they wracked their brains together and came up with a way to save you all from imminent demise, having flopped onto their sides and fallen into fitful sleeps just before sunset. Sadly it wasn't even the feel of Lucius' finger stroking yours through the cold grates of your jail, his smile lost and forlorn as he thumped his head back against the wall and closed his eyes as well, feeling even more entrapped in himself than you did.
It was, in fact, the hard glare Izzy Hands was shooting into the side of your face. He hadn't spoken a word since Stede had left, choosing instead to let out the odd sniffle from his corner bucket and busy himself by watching you like a man possessed: like something wild, something smothering itself in the shadows to stop its howling heart from devouring the light around itself. From tearing his dagger out of his scabbard and devouring his heart himself with clawed hooks. He looked ghastly, and he looked gargantuan as the life seemed to convulse within him, leeching out and darting its tongue around the creaking wood until it filled up the room and began to fill your heart up with a hope you thought had been lost weeks ago.
He looked beautiful and proud and defeated and assured in spite of it all, and you were finally beginning to understand why Zheng Yi Sao had locked him away in this cage.
And in a way, it terrified you that this cataclysmic, lucent shadow was creeping its merry way straight for you.
The tenebrosity was quickly broken by Izzy's shining eyes gliding across the bridge of your nose to land instead on your top lip. He wasn't entirely sure why exactly he was feeling so timid. It wasn't as if Frenchie was still awake, as he was too busy hugging his free arm around the remaining muscle of Izzy's thigh and burying his head into the muscle with a soft murmur of contentment. Yet the idea of being caught leering at you like a dopey boy was enough to make him judder with embarrassment, and enough to send Frenchie's head keeling sideways so his lips were rammed up against his trousers.
Thankfully, it was exactly Frenchie's floppy head that gave away the fact that he was fast asleep, and allowed you to steal Izzy away for yourself. With a gentle lift, you were quick to replace your friend's cheek with your own hand, giving the side of Izzy's thigh a reassuring squeeze.
'You look like you're bearing the weight of the world on your shoulders', you sighed as you took in Izzy's harrowing form. It wasn't his paleness that worried you, or the redness that cracked and splintered around his irises. It was the way he was watching you, eyes trained steadily on your face for the last hour and a half, as if he were doing his best to memorise everything he could before he ran out of time. As if he would never have the chance to look at you again.
The edges of his lips curled up, and he thumped his head back against the wall. 'Me? I'm feeling fucking fantastic. Never been better. Why do you ask?'
'Well', you began as softly as you could, straining to reach the vials in your hip knapsack to retrieve some salve for the scarring that had begun to pucker around his skin. 'We are about to be executed. I guess I just wanted you to know this is a safe space to let it all out before we are. A confessional of sorts, if a little makeshift.'
He wet his bottom lip as his eyes darted down to you, confused.
You pointedly looked him in the eyes, before unscrewing the vial and dipping your pointer finger in. Making sure he didn't seem too uncomfortable, you leant forwards as innocuously as you could, trying not to startle him anymore than he already had been. With a swipe, you began to rub the herb mixture around the sore looking welts left around his cut leg, making a point to run your fingertips soothingly over the goose-bumps that began to rise at the feel of you against him.
'I wanted you to know- to know that you're always safe around your crew.' You did your best not to let your voice tremble, no matter how much your throat tried to choke you. You turned your head back down to his leg, trying to hide the fact that your mouth was crumpling in on itself.
He winced as your hand brushed against a tender point, and you ran the back of your knuckles over his skin in apology. He felt like he was burning alive: a fire blazing so furiously in the pit of his stomach he was sure it was gushing out, swinging around the room and warning everyone of his impending falter as he fell upon the crags of your fingers below. He had no idea how, in all the seas, you couldn't possibly see how ecstatically devastated he was to be sitting here with you.
He didn't mind dying. He wasn't scared of it. As long as you were there to enhalo his misty light in the end. As long as you were there to love him until his last breath. As long as, no matter what form he took, you were still enclosed around his heart.
'Who says I have anything to confess?', he glanced at you with heavy eyelashes, eyes bleary but sharp as he started straight into your soul. I don't have to confess it, he thought, it's so fucking painfully obvious.
How could he confess something so inexplicable? Something that wrapped around all of his bones, that wormed its way into parts of himself he thought long numb: long lost. How could someone ever articulate the feeling of life itself? It was insurmountable, far too transcendent, too impetuous for mortals to to unsnarl into words.
'Oh Izzy', you said, mouth falling into a frown at the way his hips reflexively bucked up at the feel of a new cream being slathered around his leg to try and numb the pain. He moaned, trying to mask the sound by clenching his fist into his mouth and biting desperately into his knuckles. One more touch, and he was about to fall apart. 'Your eyes are drowning in so many regrets I can barely see the stars in them anymore.'
He huffed out a laugh, looking at you with incredulous, wild eyes. He willed his hand to stop shaking as he let it rest, still clenched, by his quivering chin. 'Not in my eyes. You never could. That's not possible. Not me.'
'I could.' You were quick to reply. 'I always could. You're our guiding light, Israel Hands.'
Oh boy, if he wasn't devastated before he sure was now. His face fell immediately, and for a moment you felt your heart ache with a sore regret at the silvery tears that began to cloud in the crinkles of his eyes. But then he does something that surprised even you.
The way he opened his legs up was almost miniscule: too small for anyone who didn't know this man's quirks and intricacies and giveaways to notice, but a well aimed shot that sent a rush of heat prickling up your cheeks. Before he changed his mind and retreated into himself again, you were quick to scoot your backside over and come to rest far too intimately between the tightening leather of his inner thighs.
'You can't be surprised that we care about you', he started after a moment of comfortable silence, leaning the side of your head to rest gingerly on his intact leg. 'That the whole crew has always cared about you. Look, someone even got you a mop-', you gestured to his side, trying to make him laugh before the sun rises, and thankfully you succeeded.
He shook his head out as if trying to refocus himself as his chuckle died out in his chest. He didn't want to laugh right now. He wanted to focus on the weight on his leg: on the feel of your nose brushing on the length of seam running up to his groin. He blinked back heavy tears that spread along his lashes, sniffling coarsely. He probably should laugh, he thought. He should be fucking howling, spitting, going rabid at the irony that the one thing he had been yearning his whole life was lying right there on his lap, and he only had a few hours left in his pathetic life to savour it.
'How are you doing, by the way? Seriously', you jolt your head up to watch him quizzically. He did his best not to meet your eye, choosing instead to stare at the black grains above Jim's slumped head. 'After, you know, everything that happened with Ed-'
'You don't need to worry about me', he sniffed, but his hand twitched as he lifted it up to rest on his thigh, just above the top of your head. 'It's my job to worry about all of you. Not the other way round.'
'When are you going to get it through your thick skull that we want to worry about you. This isn't some kind of weird mandate or self-preservation tactic on our part Izzy. You may be a fucking idiot, but you're our fucking idiot. Let us take care of you too, like you've been looking out for us.'
He squeezed his eyes shut, his head beginning to shake furiously enough to send his stray silver locks clambering over his eyes. He was glad for their cover, so he wouldn't have to see the way you had lurched forward: the way you were pleading with him with your eyes, as you rose onto your knees and pressed your hands firmly around his waist, just where the joint of his legs met the soft squish of his tummy.
'Don't you shake your head at me. We all know you've been trying to direct Blackbeard's anger your way. We do!' You cocked your head, trying to follow his face as he squirmed in your grasp. Losing your patience, you gripped his jaw with your thumb and pointer finger, directing Izzy's widening eyes back your way. 'We do, Izzy. We know what you've been doing for us. What you've been sacrificing. And I'm sorry - I'm sorry that none of this is fair. I'm sorry that any of this happened at all.'
One. Two. You tapped your finger a third time, your fingernail swirling over the fine nuances of the holster running over his sawed leg.
It had always been your little secret: a shared confidence, between you and Izzy. One tap. Two. Three on each other's arms after battles, three taps there on your shoulder before you went down to your bunk, three fleeting touches burning at the back of his spine to let him know that you were alright: to let him know that he was alright.
You only stopped when you heard a brisk inhale: a sharp whistle that broke through your indulgent repose and made Roach roll over. Thankfully, a moment later, the cook's arm was splayed out across the floor again, and his leg kicked out backwards with a swift jolt up poor Button's behind. Izzy, though. Izzy, despite the surprising tenderness of the moment, was almost smouldering. The muscle by the side of his femur began to writhe underneath just the point of your fingertip, the feeling of just your warmth making him feel too feeble. Too needy to even control the rest of his body; he desperately tried to reach out a hand to shove your shoulder back and push you away, but his mind was too busy swimming with the concentration of trying to remember how to inhale.
The sharp breaths he dragged in painfully were starting to worry you, as were the wracks of his spine as he seemed to writhe backwards and forwards, back arching off the wall before collapsing back down on itself painfully again.
He felt your hand clench around his back, guiding him to sit still again. You were close, far too close - your noses almost touching, as you took a risk and used your free hand to slowly.... god, so fucking slowly he felt like he was going to split in half. He looked like a wounded animal: something terrified of being hurt as his eyes stayed trained on your approaching fingers, face wary until your fingertips touched his hair and tucked it behind his ear.
And then he felt that warmth. That warmth against the shell of his ear. He bit down hard enough on his lip to draw blood, and for once, he was glad for the taste. It was comforting. Familiar. Deserved. He wasn't one for the fucking heartache of tenderness. And god, how his heart ached.
'Come on,' you nestled yourself between his legs again and perched your elbow up on his left leg. 'People must have cared about you before. Might as well get it all out in the open. Be honest with each other now.'
He paused, before the stubbornness wormed its way in again. 'No, they haven't-'
'Well, what about your parents? Your parents must have been kind. Besides, the crew obviously cares about you. I obviously care about you. Stop being so pig-headed.''
He startled you with a laugh: he seemed to choke on it, his teeth baring as he barked it out, yet he still couldn't seem to look at you quite yet. That's alright. You had an eternity left in these few hours.
Kindness?
He couldn't remember a time before joining Stede's crew that he had ever felt such a thing, let alone let it fester in the crevices of his ribcage until he felt the dreaded thing was going to claw its way out. Perhaps, if he let himself fester in the silence for a moment, an image of his mother would squirm its way out of his long repressed memories. Clawing and scratching and digging her pointed nails to dig her way out. No, his mother had never offered him a jot of comfort. She could stay buried in that coffin he had stuffed her down into, instead of rotting inside of him. He had enough barnacles to scrape off his body as it was.
It wasn't as if he had any surprisingly sweet memories of his life before. His mother had never been one for grace: her words always bit at his brain like a frenzied tempest, his actions never good enough. Once, when he was six years old, he had tottered up before the sun rose and followed his older brother down to the docks, trying to please his mother. Even so young, he had spent most of his years yearning to be seen as anything but the 'nuisance' or 'pest' his mother used to spit at his feet, and yearned to return with a line full of fish to please her. To help her with the chores that she always yammered his father had left her to rot with. Had left him. That he rotted away her youth. When he came slinking into the doorway, a nervous smile twitching at his ruddy cheeks, his mother had taken one look at the muddy, damp fringes of his trousers and had slapped him clean across the face for his troubles.
Another part of him remembered her warmth. The same that radiated off your palm as you spread your fingers across his knee; the way she would sometimes scutter into his bed at night, and he could smell the harsh sting of alcohol on her breath as she curled up and hugged him close against her chest. Of the way she would sometimes let him sit on her knee once the three of them had returned home after service, and she would brush back his growing hair and he would curl himself up to chase the stray ray of sunlight that glowed against her neck.
It had left him a Gordian mess of a man. Simultaneously spending his life seeking any kind of validation, any kind of affection, while his stubborn self-preservation did its best to push everyone away.And yet here you came, watching him with those sweet, sad eyes. Swinging the sword to undo him.
'I don't remember much about them', he replied curtly, but not unkindly. 'My father left us when I was young. I was... mainly left to my own devices.'
You nod slowly, letting his words thinking in. Letting the misery drenching every seething heave of his tongue wash over your head. 'Well', you began to rub your thumb in circles against his trousers, 'at least you have us here now. One good thing to add to the pile.'
There we go. The knot's slowly being undone.
You tried to smile, but the intensity of his gaze falling on you again unsettled you.
'You're right.' His voice was far too earnest for his own good. 'I have had one good thing in my life. You're the best thing that's ever happened to me.'
You nearly jolted when you felt his hand smack down on top of yours. He had closed his eyes to try and hide himself from his discomfort, but his gloved fingers still slid between yours and squeezed despite himself. Once he was assured they were firmly intertwined: his own grasping tight enough to bust the leather at the stitching, he dared himself to finish his train of thought before he lost his nerve.
'I do... I do care about the crew. None of this was their fault, and they shouldn't have been fucking blamed for it. But I- I, I care about someone else far more than all of this twatty lot put together.'
It's a whisper into the darkness. A despairing yell of defiance against the solitude. A smothered light, long lingering and far longer forgotten. A spark of hope against the threat of ruination. It was a silver tear, glinting like starlight against his iris and falling with a content plop onto the back of your hand.
'I-I-', he stuttered out, clenching his teeth as he wills himself not to cry. 'I-'
The words refused to unlatch from his throat. Luckily, you were adept enough to notice the longing that drew a sad ache across his face.
'Izzy, I-'
'Let me finish', he stumbled out, his whole face now contorting as he struggled with the weight of it all. His bottom lip began to wobble against his will, face falling in on itself.
'I have-I have... love. For you. 'What I'm trying to say is'-, he shakes his head, chiding himself.
'Izzy, I know, it's alright. I know. I understand.' You grabbed tighter onto the back of your hand, enveloping it with your free one until his stopped shaking, begging him to realise you could see him.
'No-. No. If I don't say it now, I'm worried I never will.'
'Take your time, take your time. We have all the time in the world'. A sob finally gasped out from Izzy, chest heaving as he felt you draw his hands up towards your mouth. Still safe. Still warm. Still firmly cupped between your own, but the feel of your lips brushing against his knuckles was enough to send him reeling. The gentle peck that followed, though, was enough to finally let him break free.
A tentative finger reached out, checking for any signs of repulsion before landing awkwardly to point into the blade of your shoulder. He seemed to freeze: immobile marble frozen in fear as he seemed unaware as to what to next. After a few wary blinks, he clumsily spent a few seconds trying to manoeuvre the rest of his arm to cross across your back, before tugging your torso to lean closer towards him.
For a moment, it finally seems as if the world has skittered upright on his axis again. It felt normal. It felt right, feeling him grow comfortable with affection again as he melted, for the second time that week, into your hug. For his sake, as he burrowed his head into the pulse point of your neck until his stubble began to tickle your collar bone, you pretended not to hear the maimed whimpers that struggled past his closed lips.
The only time he moved was to raise his head up towards your nose, bumping it playfully against the tip of your own. Then another graze. A rub, and then another one, his eyes the whole time languidly drawn down to stare at your cupid's bow, until he slowly brought himself down to breathe unsteadily against your mouth. After a final moment of contemplation, he blinked placidly before closing his eyes and tilting his head to close the miniscule distance between the two of you.
His jaw was tense as you ran your finger down it, so busy trying to commit to his memory the pressure of your lips against his bottom one that he was forgetting to breath. But he didn't pull away. In fact, his hand clamped around your neck, digging almost painfully into your back as he stumblingly latched onto you, forcing himself further against your opening mouth. His hand found solace by cupping the back of your skull, chest squeezed against your breasts as he opened his lips and almost devoured you whole.
A loud 'awww!' erupted from your side, making the two of you jolt apart. The only problem was, Izzy's bottom lip had been rather firmly attached to yours. This meant that as you drew back, Izzy, in his stubborn unwillingness to let you go, let his bottom lip drag down along your inner mouth until a line of saliva connected your bottom lips, which only made the person the other side of the brig giggle even louder.
'You guys are cute', Black Pete yawned with a wakening stretch.
'Yes!', Roach chimed in as he teddy bear rolled his lanky legs round in front of him. 'I swear!', he continues, ostentatiously wiping his finger underneath his eye, 'I must be crying! I'm two seconds away from going up there and commencing our escape myself.'
With a tilt of your head that hit Izzy's chin, you looked at the cook incredulously. Izzy only gazed down at you past the crook of his nose, wonderstruck as the he let the words wash over his head.
'You. You really think you can take on all those very competent pirates up there.'
'Of course!'
'You cried for twenty minutes earlier about soup!'
Roach waved his hand unconvincingly in front of his face. 'Broth, it was broth! But I'm great with knives, remember! I have one hidden in my underwear right now!'
'Why... why is it in your underwear?', Oluwande piped in as he rested his head on the side of a barrel.
'Yeah, you weren't captured', Archie added, shuffling her own head off Jim's shoulder to look out past the bars. 'Why isn't it, I don't know, in your pocket or something.'
Even though Roach has opened his mouth to answer, his train of thought is broken by the tired grumble of another one of your friends. 'I hate to admit it, but that was actually very sweet', Lucius chimed in, twisting his lips into a shit-eating grin as he eyed the both of you up, another cigarette now firmly tucked in and freshly lit between his fingers as he took a drag.
'Is everyone on this fucking boat awake?!', Izzy cried, wrapping a hand protectively around your shoulder joint.
You snorted, burying your head protectively against the soft skin of his bellybutton. The sound of the crew beginning to argue with an increasingly impatient Izzy was like music to your ears; the monster was beginning to retreat.
No longer did it hang and shake and pierce the walls with its talons until it bled umbras. It retreated: chased away by the comely love of your crew. Of your family. Of the man who held you protectively against him, blinding you with his tender love.
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saltpepperbeard · 8 months
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OBLIGATORY COMPLETE OFMD SEASON 2 TEASER THOUGHTS AND SPECULATION POST™
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Okay, to start off, I cannot BELIEVE we got this. I cannot BELIEVE we got a voiceover of Stede's note to Ed. We were all thinking it. We were all hoping for it. I CANNOT BELIEVE WE LEGITIMATELY GOT TO SEE AND HEAR HIS LOVE RIGHT OFF THE BAT. HE LOVES HIS ED SO SO MUCH.
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Followed by this shot right as Stede is narrating. It's difficult to tell, but it seems like Ed??? The one-armed jacket and the fact that it's layered with Stede's narration makes me quite certain it's him. But ALONE??? AND COMING OUT OF THE SURF??? (There's a shot later that has me PARTICULARLY raising eyebrows at this moment. I'm thinking that he fell off the boat/was lost in that one storm shown later, and Stede of course is going to dive in after him or attempt to get to him in some sort of dramatic way. Which makes me think he and Stede are going to potentially talk feelings/reconcile on the beach)
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And the fight choreography of this. Are you actually kidding me right now. ARE YOU KIDDING ME. GETTING TO SEE ED ABSOLUTELY KICKING ASS IN COMBAT??? NEVER IN A THOUSAND YEARS DID I EXPECT TO SEE A SHOT LIKE THIS BUT I'M HOLLERING SO HARD OVER IT (NOT TO MENTION, AGAIN, LOOKING AT THIS AND A LATER SHOT..........I'LL SCREAM ABOUT MY THOUGHTS WHEN SAID SHOT APPEARS HSKDLS)
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Oh, they're PINING pining. They're YEARNING yearning. They're GAY gay.
They want to be back with each other so so so bad I'm losing my mind <3
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"Fuck you, Stede Bonnet." The way he's JUST as dramatic as we were all thinking. The way he's hurting in a way WE ALL ANTICIPATED. LIKE, YOU HATE TO SEE IT, BUT MAN DSJKLDSSDKL. Also, the contrast of him saying that vs Stede's voice over is so so insane. The editors are INSANE FOR THAT ONE.
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AGAIN, GOING BONKERS OVER ED'S CHARACTERIZATION BECAUSE HE SEEMS EXACTLY HOW I ANTICIPATED. Outwardly, angry, hardened, and cold. Inwardly, heartbroken, desperate, and wanting nothing more than to be back with Stede. Because hello, HELLO, HE'S NOTCHED WHAT I ASSUME TO BE HIS NUMBER OF DAYS WITHOUT STEDE IN THE WALL??????
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HI OLU HELLO OLU MY DEAR DARLING OLU
but also screaming and crying and throwing up because this is ALSO what i was anticipating/hoping for. the crew being like "ummmmm lmao captain?? you really think you've got this under control???"
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"You think Blackbeard's going to murder you?" I THINK NOT BECAUSE WHAT IS HE EVEN SHOOTING AT JSLDKS. OFF TO THE SIDE??? A WARNING SHOT????? Also the lighting of this and his look matches the ending shot so I'm very eyes emoji at this entire thing.
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HOWEVER...
"MURDERER THRICE OVER?????????????"
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Like sorry, that sign won't stop me because I can't read. Look at him. LOOK at him. You're telling me he stole the wedding cake toppers so he could PAINT HIMSELF ON THE BRIDE??? SO HE COULD MAKE HIMSELF INTO THE BEAUTIFUL BRIDE HE WANTS TO BE????? SO THAT HE COULD PLAY PRETEND MARRIAGE BETWEEN HIMSELF AND STEDE???????
INSANE!!!
INSANE FOR THIS!!!!!!
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Again, bonkers editing. The split screen. The CONTRAST between Stede's hopefulness and Ed's depression. The WAY THEY LINED IT UP TO MAKE ED LOOK LIKE HE'S TAKING AIM AT STEDE. THE WAY THIS PROBABLY PERFECTLY ENCAPSULATES THEIR CHARACTERIZATION IN THE FIRST FEW EPISODES HSDJKLSDS LIKE BITING THE EDITORS BITING THEM BITING THEM
ALSO ED AND ALL OF HIS GUNS,,, NINE GUNS???????
It kills me because he's probably being exactly what he thinks people see him as. He's probably like "Oh, you want a monster? I'll give you a monster."
WHICH,,,, NO, HONEY. YOU'RE A SWEETHEART, SORRY ABOUT IT.
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AND THEN LOOK AT THEM. LOOK AT OUR DARLINGS!!! FANG'S FUCKING SPIKES ARE SO METAL. FRENCHIE'S WOLVERINE COSPLAY SHDJKLSHDLKS. JIM!!! JIM JIM MY BELOVED JIM, AND THEIR PAINTED BEARD. THEIR GENDER!!!!!!!
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Honey hsdksjds the drama of it all. THE DRAMA. CRASHING WEDDINGS TO DISRUPT LOVE BECAUSE YOUR OWN WAS DISRUPTED??? SIIIIIIRRRR THE THEATRICS, THE SPICE OF IT ALL
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excuse me ma'am that is a gay man shdkjshkls THAT IS A GAY MAN. WHAT ARE YOU EVEN DOING,,,
kiss me instead like wtf
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OKAY NOW THIS,,,
THIS.
PRESIDENTIAL ALERT: THE BABYGIRL IS FIGHHHTTTTIIIING
BUT IZZY WATCHING ON??? IZZY????????????
I have Genuine Thoughts™ about this. I have a feeling that the big arc/character development Con mentioned might pertain to him like, REALIZING what's important, and what Ed actually wants and needs. And a good chunk of that will be him realizing the consequences of his actions, and maybe potentially wanting to undo the damage. And also, in his Bitchy Izzy Ways™, he might also get very very tired of Ed's sulking/theatrics and want to rectify things for that reason too.
So I feel like he's going to sort of team up with Stede and show him the ropes for that reason?? So they ALL can work towards betterment???
WHICH IS NUTS LMAO. NEVER EVER EXPECTED THAT.
REGARDLESS, GO STEDE BABY GO!!!
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HI REVENGE HELLO REVENGE PLEASE DON'T DO ANYTHING DRASTIC LIKE EXPLODE OR ANYTHING PLEASE BABYGIRL <3
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yeah yeah the titties we've all seen them.
BUT AGAIN, AGAIN, STEDE OFF TO THE SIDE. STEDE WATCHING. STEDE LEARNING THE ROPES FROM THE MOST UNEXPECTED PERSON EVER SHDJKSDS LIKE WHAT!!!
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AND HEEEEEEERE WE GO. HERE'S THE SHOT I WAS REFERRING TO EARLIER.
THE SAME BLACK SAND BEACH. FIGHTING THE BRITISH. ED AND STEDE. ED WITHOUT HIS MAKEUP ON. STEDE IN A DIFFERENT OUTFIT.
ARE THEY BOTH,,, FIGHTING TO GET TO EACH OTHER??? FIGHTING THROUGH CROWDS AND ENEMIES TO GET TO EACH OTHER'S SIDES???????
WHAT IF THEY FIGHT TO EACH OTHER AND THEN KISS HUH???
WHAT THEN.
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HIIIIIIYYYAAAA JACKIE <33333
ALSO HELLO IS THAT THE SWEDE BEHIND HER???????
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EXPLOSIONS FIRE EXPLOSIONS EXPLOSIONS FEELING VERY WEE JOHN CODED RIGHT NOW!!!!!!
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AND THIS IS YET ANOTHER SHOT I WAS REFERRING TO EARLIER,,,
LIKE UHHHHHHHHHHHHH
WITH ED ON THE BEACH, AND THIS SHOT OF SOMEONE FALLING INTO THE WATER,,,,,,
I HAVE A FEELING THAT ED IS GOING TO DO SOMETHING THAT ENDS WITH HIM FALLING OFF THE BOAT. MAYBE HE TRIES TO SAVE SOMEONE???
if he fights to save stede from going overboard or something equivalent i'm going to eat all the tiles off my floor <3
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LIKE IT'S BAD BESTIES. IT'S BAD. IT'S DIRE. THE WATER IS SO FUCKING HIGH AND THEY'RE IN A STORM AND JIM IS SCREAMING AND I AM ALSO SCREAMING!!!
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But then also, LOOK AT FUCKING WEE JOHN!!! IN DRAG!!! HE'S A FUCKING MERMAID!!! JIM ISN'T A MERMAID???? WELL, THAT'S FINE--WEE JOHN IS!!! LIVING HIS BEST FUCKING LIFE!!!!! AND WHAT IF HE MADE THAT COSTUME HIMSELF SJDKSDJLS <3
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AND THE FINAL SHOT I'M CHOOSING, THE FINAL ONE OF THE SET,,, MATCHES UP WITH THAT LIGHTING EARLIER.
WHO ARE WE FIGHTING, ED BABE. WHAT'S THE TEA. WHO ARE YOU CLOBBERING.
IS IT US?
IT'S PROBABLY US.
BECAUSE THIS ENTIRE THING HAS ME SO SO SO DEAD Y'ALL
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onesidedradiostatic · 1 month
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S2 of Hazbin already giving me X-Men vibes in the sense that the entire story revolves around two old men making their relationship drama everyone else's problem
I have not seen x men so I'm just taking the latter part of this ask
I mean considering how vox is apparently gonna be the main MAIN antagonist of season 2 that sounds about right LMAOOOO
and you know it's funny because vox legitimately has like no other motivation for the hotel other than alastor, any conflict with the hotel and him is absolutely going to involve alastor
like. most of the hotel literally have not even interacted with him other than PENTIOUS who's in HEAVEN. and well angel dust but they haven't had a proper on-screen interaction yet, all we know is they know of each other's presence due to their connections with val.
in fact, most of the main cast have had more interactions with or at least been in the same room with val more than vox. like angel dust is a given, but charlie interacted with val in episode 4, niffty, husk and cherri directly faced val eye to eye in episode 6 (and well in niffty's case, a bit more than that LMAO). vaggie's at least seen val from heaven's courtroom through the magic ball thing.
so honestly seems like the vee the hotel is most familiar with is val, which is funny because alastor has literally never been in a room with val on screen (insert alastor's sex aversion and val being an alastor repellent joke here). and even though he never interacted with velvette, he's the only one of the main cast to have ever been in a room with her. alastor being here like "yes please go ahead and waste all your interactions on valentino. I will sit here being the only one to interact with the other 2 vees, who may be just as bad as him but are ones I am able to tolerate a bit more, just don't put me in a room with him."
anyways sorry I got a bit off track but yeah with vox being the main MAIN antagonist, 100% his and alastor's drama will probably have to take the forefront considering he's the only one of the main cast he has any sort of significant interaction with.
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aledethanlast · 10 months
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I want to clarify something about my Lawyer!Andrew post:
Andrew is not doing this to impress people. In fact he actively doesn't want to impress people. He is done being a superman who holds everyone's lives in his hands. It's not good for his mental health when he's doing it and it's not good for anyone when that he fails, because the law is too big and some of these fuckers are just legitimately dumber and more guilty than his literal murderous mafia husband.
Anyways. Andrew wakes up in the morning, goes to his closet and shoves aside the 15k dollar Armani suits so he can put on the two piece he got at Macy's (then tailored to fit, cause he still has standards), and a matching tie.
He goes to the office. Brad asks him if he heard about the latest draft picks. Andrew stares him down until Brad goes to Andrew's desk and drops a quarter in the "Asking Andrew about Exy" jar. Andrew's coworkers seem to think that he's gonna buy the office a Foosball table with the jar money. They are wrong. It is for a new cat tower. Also, no Andrew hasn't seen it, but he got the rundown from Neil and Kevin, so he knows enough to tell Brad not to bother with a season pass for the Sealions this year.
He has two cases to deal with today. The first is a vehicular manslaughter charge. The client is pleading self defense, and that the victim was a stalker. Andrew likes her because, despite bursting into tears every time they have a trial prep session, she actually listens to instructions and knows when to shut the fuck up. He's confident.
The second is grand larceny. The guy is so super incredibly guilty but Brad gave him this case because he knows Andrew loves police misconduct cases and this one is just so full of protocol breaches that Andrew only had to show Neil the file for him to burst out laughing.
Janet says he has a call waiting. Janet is the highest paid paralegal in the county, because she also filters his celebrity mail. Technically Neil's pr firm still represents him, but Janet knows to turn down the DA's gala invitations without needing to argue with him.
He picks up the phone. It's the DA. The man invites him to the police gala because he knows Andrew ignored the emails. Andrew assumes the man was banking on Andrew giving a polite refusal he can wheedle or harangue into compliance. The man is new to the job, so Andrew will forgive this embarrassing miscalculation.
They spend the next hour discussing court dates for a certain case. Andrew's client for that one is disabled and only has partial aid, and he won't let them set court dates that they know she won't be able to attend. The DA, despite his embarrassing naivate, seems to be on the same page in this regard, so hopefully this will go well when they bring the matter to the judge.
In the span of this phone call, two of Brad's clients come into the office, and within five minutes of walking in are made to contribute to the jar. They don't get their questions answered, because he's on the phone, and they're not Brad.
He has court tomorrow. Court is annoying, because it's a room full of strangers who hear his name and forget why he's there, and he's not allowed to bring the jar. Court is a chore, because he has to walk people through their own idiocy, and then occasionally convince the room of just how stupid or brilliant it actually was.
Court is also, maybe, just a teensy bit fun, because whatever the stereotype of a lawyer is, Andrew really isn't it, and that makes people take him a lot less seriously until he starts quoting their words back to them faster than the stenographer.
(Janet also filters job offers. They tend to crop up every few months.)
(It used to be more fun, back in the early days when Neil would sit in sometimes, until he remembered just how horrifically boring the whole thing is. But that's fine. Andrew is happy having his own thing.)
But really, court is easy. It's a place where your word has weight, where promises are binding, and when everything is going to shit, nobody looks at Andrew like he's the freak for keeping his head.
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rebelwrites · 4 months
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IM HERE FOR THE FLASH FIC!!
I’ve been craving some Jax Teller. I need something tender and sweet, but in character. Something to make me feel safe and wanted, but not simply desired. Idc what you write or how you do it because I know it’s going to be 👌
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You Aren’t Meant To Be Back Until Christmas Eve
Jax Teller x Reader
This is a flash fic so it hasn’t been edited. It’s also good to be back writing again 🥺
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It was the week leading up to Christmas and to say you were rushed off your feet was a complete understatement. This was your favorite time of year, even though your stress levels were through the roof, you practically lived off coffee and energy drinks and hardly saw your boyfriend Jax. You knew he understood why you were so absent in the run up to the festive season, the small bakery had queues running down the street from mid October.
Leaning against the stainless steel counter, you took a deep breath looking at the stack of cookie trays that were cooling waiting to be iced ready for the morning rush. Your body ached to where all you wanted to do was sink into a scalding hot bath, not moving until the hot water eased your aching muscles.
The sound of your phone echoing around the industrial supplied kitchen pulled you from any thoughts, you knew it would be Jax, it always was this time of night. No matter what time you were working he would always drop you a call to see how you were getting on, even when he was on runs with the club he would always make a point of calling you. Brushing the flour on the front of your jeans you grabbed your phone, quickly answering the call before pressing the device against your ear.
“Is it a late one again Darlin’?” Your boyfriend hummed, you could hear the tiredness hanging from his words, this last run for the club must have taken more of a toll on him this time.
“I think I’m still gonna be here come opening,” you sighed, letting your gaze fall to the countertop. “Don’t get me wrong I love Christmas and the bakery but I just want to spend time with you.”
“The money is nice as well,” he chuckled, causing the corners of your lips to tug into a small smile. You knew how much the bakery meant to not only Jax but the club too. This was one of the first legitimate businesses that was set up, Jax surprised you one day by showing the vacant lot and the new sign he had designed, from that day the “From Anarchy, With Love” bakery was born.
“How was the run?” You asked, pulling the phone away from you ear, putting in on speaker so you could be free to move around the kitchen.
“Long as fuck,” he groaned, you knew he would be running he hand across his face as he spoke. “I am so fuckin’ done with the muling, it is just getting more risky with each run,” he mumbled, with each word he spoke you could hear the pain in his voice.
Before he could carry on the sound of someone pounding at the front door gained my full attention. “Hold on baby, I swear someone is trying to put their fist through the front door of the bakery,” you huffed in annoyance. It was probably one customer trying their luck to see if they could get their order early. But that didn’t stop you from reaching into the cupboard by the doorway of the kitchen, grabbing my hand gun, flicking the safety off before tucking it into the bank of my jeans. One thing was for sure when it came to being Teller’s old lady, you was never without protection, whether this was in the form of a 9mm, a member of the club or Jax.
As you moved through the building, the knocking got louder and more persistent. “Bloody hell, don’t punch my door in, it never hurt you,” you scoffed, fishing the keys out of the pocket of Jax’s hoodie.
You felt myself fumbling with all the locks, once again thanks to Jax being over protective, soon enough the door was finally unlocked and the moment you pulled the heavy wooden door you dropped the set of keys on the floor as you saw your boyfriend leaving against the brick entrance.
“Hey Darlin’,” he hummed, quickly closing the gap between the two of you, engulfing you into his arms. The feeling of his muscular arms wrapping around your body caused all the stress to dissolve. “Fuck, I missed you,” he whispered against your hair, guiding you further into the shop before kicking the door closed with his foot.
“You aren’t meant to be back until Christmas eve,” you breathed, pulling back slightly so you could take in the look of your tired man. Somehow you freed one of your arms, allowing you to reach up brushing your fingers against his cheek. “Not that I am complaining nevertheless, what happened Jaxy?”
The fact you were greeted with a moment of silence told you everything, you knew things were rocky with Clay, no one knew the toll that everything was taking on the blond nuzzling his face into your shoulder. He wouldn’t let the outside world see him like this, but with you he felt he could let the walls come crumbling down, allowing him to process all the emotions he was feeling, and he knew his feelings would be taken seriously.
“Clay is going off on one again, his hands are getting worse and he has gone behind all of our back and the club is now in a deep hole with the cartel,” he had a wobble in his tone as he spoke, he was angry about the whole situation and I couldn’t blame him, I would be to. “I just needed my girl.”
Your heart fluttered in your chest at his words, to the world he was the vice president of a violent club but behind closed doors he was just a puppy wanting love.
“I know you need to work so I can’t take you to the Christmas market I know you want to go to but I have brought take out,” he hummed, holding up the plastic carrier bag you had completely missed when he first came into the bakery, “and I thought we could spend the night icing them amazing cookie, like we did when we were getting this place ready for the opening.”
Tears threatened to spill over your lash line, you had never been with someone who would abandon everything just because they wanted to spend time with you, even if that meant that they would be working till the sun came up.
“You know I want the cookies to be edible and sellable right?” You smirked, cocking your brow at him.
“Shut up and get your ass in that kitchen, Darlin’”
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gffa · 1 year
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You know what?  I had a good time with the Mando s3 premiere!  It legitimately was a lot of fun to watch and I found I couldn’t wait to get on-line and make shitposts about it, which is the truest sign of my affection for something.
How could I hate that they chose the objectively funniest route for explaining Grogu’s return happening in a completely separate series:  DON’T EXPLAIN SHIT.  THROW YOUR AUDIENCE IN THE DEEP END OF THE POOL.  SINK OR SWIM, ASSHOLES.
There were purrgils!  We all know we’re never getting a proper Rebels sequel, but I will take the small crumb of seeing my beloved space whales.
Greef Karga’s fashion game is ON POINT, that man was looking absolutely fucking fine, finally we have a worthy cape successor to Lando Calrissian.  The man brought along two droids to keep the hem of his cape off the floor, for fuck’s sake.  #ICONIC
KALEVALA IN LIVE ACTION!?!?  GASP.
Bo-Katan’s wig is a THOUSAND PERCENT BETTER this season, like where the fuck was this previously, this looks so much more like her!
Speaking of my beloved hot mess of a wife who is also a bitch:  I am THRIVING with how angry and messy she is, lounging around on her family’s throne in the castle on Kalevala like she doesn’t care, when she is burning with how much she cares.  Everyone has abandoned Mandalore, she feels utterly defeated, and she is so angry but so broken about it.  Girl, I am making you some soup right this minute, even though I know you’re just going to throw it at the wall in a fit of anger.  Love you, gorgeous.
GROGU DOING THE SPINNY THING AND LAUGHING, SPEED DEMON BABY IS BACK
I thought I was going to hate the Anzellans being put in this, but the MINUTE they started talking and going “Bad baby.” I was irl cackling, PUT THOSE GUYS IN EVERYTHING, THEY ARE HILARIOUS.
Grogu trying to squeeze one of the Anzellans because he wanted a pet was TOP TIER COMEDY.
And on the opposite end of the emotional scale, jesus FUCK IG-11′s torso crawling across the floor to try to kill a baby, practically fucking skittering at warp speed, was TERRIFYING.
I had a good time!  I have affection for everyone in this bar!  That’s all I’m gonna ask of this show.
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