#Izzy goes with her instinct

[piratecaptainscaptainpirates]

Havin a think about how Ed tries to get the crew to mutiny on him in s2e2.

At this point, he has made the decision to commit suicide. He is committed to ending his life but is unwilling to kill himself directly, so he needs to find a way to convince the crew to kill him.

So Ed traps his crew in a desperate situation. He sails them into a storm, rips off the wheel, and threatens to shoot a cannonball into the mast, which would kill everyone on board. Would he actually have gone through with shooting the cannon? I dunno, really, and I doubt he does, either - he wasn't really in a good mental state at the time, and when he goes to light the cannon, he does it so very slowly, giving them plenty of time to stop him. He's grasping at straws to give the crew any reason to kill him (he fucking goes "yeah, maybe!" when Archie accuses him of being misogynistic by telling her to fight Jim, like he thinks that's a death penalty-level offence). When the ship is getting tossed around in the storm he's clearly not holding onto anything. He doesn't try to defend himself at all when the crew finally do start beating the shit out of him. Point is, this is a guy who is 100% committed to not leaving this situation alive.

He is pulling out all the stops to make the crew mad enough and scared enough for their own safety to mutiny on him. But it keeps sticking with me that the very first thing Ed tries is telling Jim to fight Archie to the death.

I think it's very telling that the first thing that pops into Ed's mind when he considers "what will make Jim kill me" is "tell them to hurt someone they love." He's grasping for anything, yes, but that's one of the worst things he could think of. He clearly thinks it'll get the job done - he doesn't seem surprised at all when they stop fighting each other, just kinda annoyed that he has to keep stretching this out.

Also thinking about how Ed always shields Stede with his body when he's in danger, how his instinct is always to protect. How he couldn't lift a finger against Stede in s1e6, even with Izzy pressuring him to kill Stede - how he felt so much guilt about even planning to kill him. For Ed, it's so clear that hurting someone you love is among the worst things anyone could ever do.

#ofmd #our flag means death #and this is the guy that some people think is going to be abusive? I have to laugh #cw suicide

[slakedbyiron]

I'm drunk again but we'll take a crack at it. I couldn't find the post so here's the page again lets analyse

Okay no 1 Francisco and the dojo:

Izzy feels so bad that she can't do what seems to be a really tough spectral move (on the previous page only Spender who is described as Francisco's strongest student can do it properly) at only 6 YEARS OLD she starts crying - and Izzy isn't actually a part of this training session so it implies that even Francisco thinks this is too hard for her to do, and yet she still holds herself to the standard of an adult spectral because that's what Francisco has taught her

He holds her to an unattainably high standard and the one thing she is properly skilled at and proud of (her exceptional connection with spirits and her skills with tools) is belittled by him as weak and cheating. Francisco doesn't accept anything less than an automatic reaction to physical pain as a reason to cry - and even then he still ridicules her, saying "is that all?" as if a child wouldn't cry at being hurt.

He also calls her mother over to deal with her, even though she's a nurse she's incredibly busy and just about to leave for work he feels like it's her issue - presumably Amy feels secure working as much as she does because she believes that Izzy has a strong support system at the dojo, knowing how much she looks up to Francisco and how many people are around to protect her. on the next page he implies it should be her job to look after Izzy at the expense of her career because he's housing them both - despite the fact that her father still lives in town. similar to the way Isabel is treated by him, he holds Amy to a higher standard because Ángel has disappointed him, as if it has anything to do with her.

Despite the fact that Spender is the only person on this page who doesn't actually live in the dojo he's the only one who goes to see if Izzy is alright - the rest spend way more time with Izzy yet seem awkward to borderline disinterested in her pain in the 4th panel - I know she's a young kid but they should have a stronger connection with her. This could be related to how she's literally pitted against adults in the present, whereas in the past it's slightly more theoretical/in her head

That leads us to no 2 Spender and Izzy's relationship:

The penultimate panel I feel shows how close she and Spender are. It implies that he picks her up a lot because she instinctively knows what he's doing even though he turns around without saying anything. In addition the fact that he picks her up presumably also because she says she hurt her foot, so she doesn't have to walk on it - even though banging your foot wouldn't really impede your walking

Also, Spender doesn't even notice how Francisco is treating Izzy this whole page, because he's too wrapped up in seeing if she's okay (the final panel shows he still has his hero worship of Francisco which I'd hope he wouldn't if he realised how terrible he treats her) this is something he still does in the present day but it hinders Izzy because he focuses on "keeping the kids safe" rather than emotionally secure and regulated. It also very literally happens again in chapter 4 when he's worrying with Lucifer about whether he kept the kids safe properly and misses Izzy asking for his help dealing with Francisco.

finally no 3 more on Isabel:

She's too young to have as strong a handle on her emotions as present-day Isabel (read: emotional repression) but she still thinks that this is a weakness to have a completely normal reaction that all kids that young would have to frustration. Isabel is only 6 years old and she's already internalised that emotional pain is insignificant and weak, and that the only 'valid' pain is physical, as shown by her lie. despite this she's still invalidated because the pain wasn't bad enough. Also her kneejerk lying about pain is a trait commonly seen in abused children.

This can be seen to have both the aforementioned emotional implications in current Izzy, as well as physical - she attempts to use plasters to cover a wound that actually needs stitches because she doesn't want her grandfather to know and be disappointed, risking an infection.

I realise half of these are just statements w no conclusions but I hope you can infer what I mean. anyway concluding statement no one looks out for Izzy like they should and also her and Spender's relationship and all of its shortcomings is one of my fav things abt pnat both bc there's so much meat there and bc they're my 2 fav characters

#paranatural #going to drunk bingo I don't normally start drinking at 6pm

[rahullkohli]

i wanna talk about the dynamic between ed and lucius, because i feel like people tend to either completely brush it off as non-existent, or as lucius only having ed’s attention because lucius is close to stede, and i think that is a huge disservice, as i see the relationship between the two characters as incredibly nuanced. and this is gonna be really freaking long i’m so sorry.

it’s widely accepted that stede is the only person to ever be truly upfront with ed, but while i agree to some extent that stede is true to himself around ed, i think that lucius to a much greater degree is the absolutely only person who fully does not think thée great blackbeard is The Shit. before ed shows up on the revenge lucius does seem to think the mystery about this legend character is enticing, but the second he actually meets ed all of that washes away. he is the one person who continuously stands up to ed, and tells him to treat stede right. lucius sees very quickly (what stede himself doesn’t even see) that the chemistry between ed and stede is growing more romantic, and it is lucius’ instinct to be protective of this captain he didn’t even like about a week or two prior to ed showing up.  lucius even showed up on the island with the biggest bitch attitude to hand deliver a breakup box when ed left with calico jack.

and what i see is that ed respects that about lucius. stede actually did try to embellish his own persona in front of ed; trying to seem tougher than he is, trying to impress ed again and again - he might not have changed himself, but he did bend over backwards to make a good impression. but ed saw that lucius didn’t. there was never any doubt where lucius’ loyalty was, and it was with his own captain. and we see ed look to lucius when he is unsure about stede, because he knows the way to a dude’s heart is through his reluctant gay bestie.

then when ed returned from running away from the british navy, lucius is the only person ed opens up to. aside from stede, lucius is the only person ed is truly vulnerable with, and confides to directly. he invites lucius into his blanket fort, he tells lucius about this raw pain that he is feeling, even if he does try to thinly veil it as about someone else.

and this part is the most important to me; i think ed sees in lucius what he wishes he could be himself. lucius is openly gay, and very vocal about his gayness. he doesn’t take on the big responsible roles, because he truly does not want them. he is soft, and kind, and so gentle with people who are in a bad way. he doesn’t put a big thing into making people like him, and he is honest with people around him, and still finding the balance in how to be that in the way the situation requires. he can be mean and vicious, but only when people deserve it. in many ways, he is just like stede. he is also fiercely protective of the people he cares about, and he is definitely down to clown.

which brings me to the last episode. ed goes through this massive transformation of being broken and vulnerable, to having izzy’s words snap him back to his old alter ego of blackbeard. i’ve seen a lot of different reasons for how people sees the scene of ed pushing lucius overboard; that he just snapped, that it was to solidify his newfound edginess, that he always thought lucius was annoying, etc. but i truly, deeply in my soul see lucius as being someone ed has grown to care about, and he couldn’t have that around anymore. ed got rid of stede’s possessions, his crew - it was basically that taylor swift video where she burns all of her ex’s things in a fit of rage. so why didn’t ed just drop lucius off at the island along with the others? because lucius is a physical manifestation of the memory of stede, but also of that inner core of ed that he had buried so deep inside but slowly started letting out from knowing stede. when ed looks at lucius he sees both stede, the man he loves but he believes doesn’t love him back, but also the person he wishes he could be himself. kind, gentle, embracing his feminine side, not caring about who knows he’s gay, and someone who is loyal and protective of the people he loves. by pushing lucius overboard, ed is not only pushing away stede’s memory, he is also trying to kill the part of himself that he had only just started to embrace.

i wanna keep ranting about my love for the relationship between these two, but this is already so long. now i just really fucking hope s2 will fix this, because i need ed and lucius to be best friends and confidants.

#edward teach #lucius spriggs #ofmd talk #ofmd #our flag means death #i don't even know how to tag this #i'll probably post this and in five minutes wish i had written something differently #tv #tv:our flag means death #queer tv

[fruitcoops]

HI IM IZZY and i would please like to kindly request some more post rib coops/team lovliness AND angst (maybe not together?) idk- defo not a timed request i just reread a lot of your stuff (i LOVE nightmare/rib one) & i was hoping for some more! id love a sirius is @home n the team come over to say hi/raise spirits OOH LIGHTBULB and he loves it but suddenly he stands up to fast or laughs too hardetc and the whole team wants to help but have to just let remus hell till it passes, sadness :( THX❤

Hi Izzy! This is a great request and I combined it with one for some more Lions groupchat :) Character credit goes to @lumosinlove

TW for injury, arguing, minor alcohol, very brief reference to sex

Harry yawned, wide and squeaky, with his little wrinkled face all squished up beneath a small red cap. All four adults cooed at the sound; he smacked his lips before blinking his eyes open slowly to stare at them with equal amounts of sleepiness and curiosity. “Come sit,” Sirius said, shifting to make room for Lily on the couch. Remus watched his gaze remain on the baby while Lily curled as close as she could to Sirius’ side; she tilted the swaddle up so he could see better. Beneath Remus’ hand, Sirius’ ribs compressed in a gentle sigh. In his armchair, James had never looked prouder.

“Do you wanna say hi to Uncle Pads, peaches?” Lily asked Harry with a light tickle to his chin. She received a near-silent burble in response, and Remus’ heart swelled as he rested his chin on Sirius’ shoulder. “I bet you do, huh? He’s pretty cool.”

“Bonjour, mon petit,” Sirius murmured, running his thumb over Harry’s cheek. Lily knocked their foreheads together and Sirius grinned at her. “Can I hold him?”

The overflowing amount of love that had built up in Remus’ chest at their perfect little moment deflated slightly and he rubbed Sirius’ hip, just below his bandages. “Ribs, baby,” he reminded him quietly. He didn’t have to see Sirius’ face to feel his disappointment.

Lily glanced over, resettling Harry against her chest. “Maybe just once?” she suggested, though the plea in her voice was audible. “Come on, Re, five minutes won’t hurt.”

Remus swallowed hard. The last time Sirius had risked holding something heavier than five pounds, he had been throbbing with pain and swollen for days. Neither of them wanted a repeat performance.

Harry opened his mouth in a toothless smile and wiggled as Sirius took one small fist and waved it around. Damn you, adorable baby, Remus thought as his resolve crumbled in an instant. “Do you think you can do it?” he asked, pressing a kiss to the soft bit of skin below Sirius’ ear. A beat of hesitation passed before Sirius nodded. “Then I won’t stop you.”

His instincts prickled in the back of his mind as Sirius rearranged his arms with a stifled wince, but he bit his tongue. He leaned over to take the baby and the discomfort on his face was visible—Remus nearly told him to stop then and there until Sirius’ jaw tightened and he settled Harry in the crook of his elbow. “There,” he said, though he was a bit breathless. Lily furrowed her eyebrows in clear concern. “Totally fine, see?”

“Pads…” James began.

Sirius paid him no mind, his attention already laser-focused on Harry’s blanket edges. Remus didn’t miss the lines of tension on his face and shoulders, and by the look on Lily’s face, she didn’t either. Her hand was gentle on his arm. “Sirius, if he’s too heavy—”

“He’s fine,” Sirius interrupted. “I’m fine. More than fine, I get to hold my godson.”

The corner of her mouth turned down to match the shattering of Remus’ heart. “Please don’t push yourself while you’re still healing. None of us are going anywhere.”

“I’m fine,” Sirius insisted, casting a cursory glance at the three of them. “I can bench over 200 pounds, he’s une plume—”

“When your ribs aren’t broken,” Remus corrected. Sirius fell silent; the edge of his jaw ticked. “You can bench 200 when your ribs aren’t broken. We just don’t want to see you hurting any more than you have to.”

“It’s worth it,” Sirius said under his breath. Lily’s whole face crumpled, and immediate regret shadowed his stubbornness. “No, I didn’t—I meant that five minutes won’t be a big deal. He’s not going to be tiny forever. I’m his godfather. He needs to know me.”

“He knows you,” James assured him in a quiet voice as he ran a hand under his glasses. Remus didn’t envy his exhaustion. “Pads, it’s just a few more weeks. If you’re hurting, don’t hold the baby. The team needs you to heal fast.”

“He needs you to heal fast,” Lily added, adjusting Harry’s cap so it fit over his ears. Low blow, Evans, Remus thought, impressed. Right for the heart. A timer went off on her phone and she offered Sirius an apologetic smile. “Food time for the bundle.”

Sirius clenched his teeth as he helped get Harry back in her arms, letting out a small puff of air as he sat back; the lamps of the living room were dim, but Remus still saw the shine in his eyes. “You okay?” he murmured, rubbing a palm over Sirius’ thigh. All he got in response was a nod—James cast them a worried look.

Harry and Lily returned for the last half hour of their visit, but every time Sirius went to suggest a cuddle, Lily guided the conversation away. Remus could hardly look at him.

Sirius was quiet on the way home, too, all the way into bed. “Only one more week of pillows,” Remus said when they had settled in, offering an encouraging smile over the cushy barrier between them.

“He’s my godson,” Sirius said curtly. His gaze remained stubbornly on the ceiling. Remus felt his smile slip and reached over the pillows for a hand to hold, but none met him in the middle.

“Baby, I know you’re disappointed, but it’s just a couple more weeks.”

No response.

“We’ll see them tomorrow, remember?” he tried. “And Lily said you can give him a bottle and everything.”

Silent treatment. Real mature. Remus pressed his lips together and curled up on his side, his knees brushing the pillows that kept Sirius from moving too much. It had already been two and a half weeks since that horrible, awful night that ended with the best kind of joy they could ask for. They got the call just past 3 in the morning—Sirius had fought his pain meds tooth and nail to stay awake, then immediately passed out on Remus’ shoulder the moment James and Lily hung up. Remus hadn’t been able to sleep. His mind whirled with images of Fenrir’s sneering face and venomous words, of Lily’s terrified voice crackling over the phone. Of Sirius twitching on the ice, unable to stand. Of baby Harry’s unbelievably tiny nose and wrinkled hands curling in Lily’s hair. His body didn’t feel big enough to hold all the feelings bubbling up.

Honestly, he was just grateful they were allowed to see the baby at all. Other than Mr. and Mrs. Potter, everyone else had to wait until Harry’s first checkup to give him a proper team welcome. Minus the keg, of course.

Sirius’ breathing slowed after a minute, marking his slide into sleep. Remus sighed through his nose and watched the headlights pass outside, mere pinpricks behind the curtains. Maybe he was being too harsh, telling Sirius not to hold Harry. He was his godfather, after all. God knew he took the job seriously. Maybe it was selfish of Remus to withhold that from him just to avoid a little pain.

But it wasn’t just a little pain, was the thing. Remus rolled onto his back and rubbed at his eyes as he bit back a groan of frustration. They were so fucking close to the Cup and if Sirius missed that…if Sirius missed the Cup, he would be inconsolable. He’d never forgive himself. Crimes might be committed. No amount of baby cuddles would fix that, no matter what Sirius was telling himself.

“You’re doing the right thing,” Remus murmured to himself. Sirius showed no sign of waking and he closed his eyes. Stick to your guns. For his sake.

--

“Oh, hey, I got that,” Remus protested, swiping the backpack from Sirius’ hand when he went to pick it up off the chair. Sirius made an exasperated noise that he soothed with a kiss to the corner of his mouth. “That shirt looks cute on you.”

Sirius narrowed his eyes. “I can carry a backpack.”

“Backpack? What backpack?” Remus grinned at his eye roll and slung the bag over his shoulder, then hustled to open the door. “Don’t worry, you still get to drive.”

--

“Let me help.”

“With a pot?” Remus raised a playful brow and nudged Sirius with his hip. “Easiest thing in the world. Scoot, I need to drain these.”

“It is the easiest thing in the world,” Sirius agreed, though he was kind enough to shuffle out of the way and let Remus through. Hands settled on his hips, fingers hooking into his belt loops. Sirius’ chin came to rest on his shoulder, his breath warm on Remus’ neck. “Which is why you should let me do it.”

Steam billowed up in the sink; once he was sure all boiling water had vacated the premises, he leaned back and nuzzled Sirius’ cheekbone. “Heal up quick for me and you can drain all the pasta your heart desires.”

--

It was getting harder and harder to pull Sirius out of the stormcloud brewing over him. Remus knew himself, knew he could get a little overbearing when it came to fixing things—looking back on group projects still made him cringe—but he was better, now. He knew when to buckle down and when to slam the SOS button.

Message to: Not the Captain

Is anyone free Friday night for a nonalcoholic rager

The answer was immediate.

Message from: Not the Captain

Yes

Yes

Yes

Always

Me

No alcohol? : (

Ohmygod Loops are you pregnant

Message to: Not the Captain

Yes and I’m telling you over text

Obviously no. Cap can’t have alcohol w/ his meds

Message from: Not the Captain

Does that mean *I* can still have alcohol

Wow that sounded so formal: IS BOOZE ALLOWED ON THE PREMISES

When you say he can’t have alcohol does that mean he’ll die or does it mean he gets drunk faster than usual

Oooo v important question thank u bliz

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Remus muttered.

Message to: Not the Captain

I’m not going to tell you not to drink anything, but it’s BYOB

Also if you give the invalid any alcohol I will personally shove a shot glass up your ass

Several seconds of silence passed.

Message from: Not the Captain

Well goddamn okay

As someone who has had Problems before: mixing pain meds and booze can/ will cause liver damage so like. Don’t.

Thanks Harz

Thank you Harvard

Thanks Harzy

Kiss me on the mouth Big Brain O’Hara

Remus set his phone on the table and ran a hand down his face, then flipped it back over and ignored the dozen new messages that had popped up in his absence.

Message to: Not the Captain

Cap’s house Friday 8 pm

He contemplated adding a request not to bring up Harry, but decided against it. Best to let things go on as usual—James was the only one he would have worried about, but he was perceptive, and he would know better than to poke that particular open wound while everyone was trying to have a good time.

Message from: Not the Captain

Loops I’m in love with your planning skills

Thank u mom

Kiss me on the mouth Loops

STOP

--

Sirius hadn’t been so visibly excited since…well, if Remus had to guess, since the night they figured their shit out for real. He was like a puppy at summer camp, happily parked by the big front window while the guys rotated in and out and music thumped off the walls. Remus caught his eye and smiled at the giddy grin that instantly came to life on his face, shaking his head when Sirius motioned him over. Nachos, he mouthed, tilting his head to the kitchen. Sirius gave a dramatic shrug, but then Kuny settled next to him and his attention was gone.

A weight lifted off Remus’ chest. He hadn’t realized how much pressure he had been putting on himself as in-house doctor over the past three weeks, playing medic 24 hours a day. Sirius had never asked him to, but he felt like it was implied. What was a little more work, anyway?

Remus looked over the crowd again once the nacho pan was out of the oven and sighed into his vodka lemonade. A lot more work. More than he had expected. Sirius was doing such a good job of regulating his own meds and exercises, but the little part of Remus that needed to know everything, always, had been screeching toward oblivion in the back of his head. He should just be grateful that Regulus didn’t seem interested in one-on-one attention, because there wasn’t any left to give.

A shadow darkened his periphery. “I’m not kissing you on the mouth.”

“Not even a peck?” Talker teased, slinging an arm over his shoulders to give him a little shake.

“Oh—Jesus, Talkie,” Remus laughed as his drink nearly sloshed over the rim of the cup.

“You’re lurking. Why are you lurking? Party people don’t lurk.”

He sucked the spilled lemonade off his finger, making a face at the bite of alcohol. “I have never in my life been a party person.”

“That’s a lie,” Talker scoffed. “I bet college Loops went wild.”

“College Loops studied.” And gave an accounting student semi-regular blowjobs.

“Okay, then maybe current Loops needs to take a deep breath and stop looking at the captain like he’s going to spontaneously combust.”

Remus’ face heated and he looked away. Fuck. He had been trying not to do that.

Talker gave him another, gentler, shake. His eyes were kind when Remus glanced up. “I get it, man, we’re all worried. But you’ve got a bazillion people here who can keep an eye on Cap while you both have fun.”

“I’m trying to be better about it.” The words felt lame.

But Thomas didn’t mock him, just ruffled up his hair and took a sip of beer. “He looks good. Healthier. His posture’s better, too.” His lips quirked when he looked back to Remus. “C’mon, I was a kinesiology major. I know shit.”

Remus knocked his forehead on Talker’s shoulder. “Thanks, T.”

“Any time. Can I try that?”

Remus transferred his drink to his other hand, out of reach. “Absolutely not.”

“Swap?”

“Nope.”

“Can I smell it?”

“Why would you—”

A commotion kicked up and Remus knew what had happened before his name left James’ lips. “I’m fine,” he heard Sirius say as he set his drink down and made a beeline for the living room.

Fucking shit, he knew that tone. Tight with pain and trying to hide it, the same one that always reared up when Sirius tried to go too fast. The guys moved out of the way without question, dispersing to give them space before Remus even had to ask. The carpet was soft under his knee when he knelt and took Sirius’ hands. “Ice or Advil?”

“I’m fine,” Sirius gritted out. His eyes were shut so tight the edges crinkled.

Remus swallowed his initial protest, lowering his voice to a murmur. “Five shallow—”

“—five deep,” Sirius finished for him on the third shallow breath. “Ouais, I got it.”

He waited until the obvious pain had faded from his angular face, then another five breaths before giving Sirius’ hands a gentle squeeze. The team was still chatting in the background, but it was more subdued. Less natural, more like a movie set. “Did you turn too quick?” he asked quietly.

Sirius’ jaw ticked. “Sat up straight.”

Remus’ heart sank. Just last week, they had gotten to the point where that didn’t cause immediate agony anymore. “Okay,” he started. “Okay, I’ll grab some ice, we’ll start saying goodbye—”

“No.” He stopped cold; the tension between Sirius’ brows eased and he looked up, guilty now. “Merde, sorry, I—no, we don’t have to kick everyone out. I’m alright.”

Remus leaned in and kissed his cheek, letting his lips linger a moment longer than usual. “Tell me if it starts hurting more, yeah?”

Sirius nodded. His hands gave a quick pulse around Remus’ before letting him go.

It didn’t take much to let everyone know the party was winding down after that. Remus didn’t have to say a word.

Sirius noticed anyway.

“I told you I was okay.”

Remus looked up from the dishwasher. “What?”

“My ribs.” Sirius’ expression was dark, irritated, the closest to angry he had seen in a while. “Earlier, when they hurt again. I told you I was fine and you just…why would you do that?”

“Do what?”

“You really fucking suck at playing dumb, so don’t.”

Remus’ brows shot up toward his hairline. He spared a moment to be glad Regulus was having a video game night with Leo before setting a plate down and turning fully to Sirius, who had worked himself up into even more of a thunderstorm. “Look, I didn’t say anything to anybody—”

“You don’t have to say things to tell people to fuck off.”

“I didn’t tell anybody to fuck off!”

“You told them to leave!”

“I don’t make decisions for your teammates—”

“No, you make them for me.” Sirius exhaled hard through his nose and combed a hand through his already-messy hair. “When are you going to start trusting me with my own body, Remus? When? At what point are you going to admit that you don’t know everything?”

“When you start acting like you can treat this seriously,” he snapped.

Sirius stopped cold. Remus held his breath, biting down hard on the inside of his cheek. Oh, karma, you really are a bitch.

There was no option but to keep pushing. The idea of it made Remus feel sick, but his mouth was already running off again. “I get that you’re frustrated—”

“I’m not frustrated, I’m angry—”

“—then join the fucking club, because I’ve spent the last three weeks trying to keep you from breaking yourself all over again while you—”

“There you go again!”

“Stop making me the only one with common sense!”

“Stop being a control freak, Remus!”

“It’s like you don’t even care about healing—”

“You won’t let me hold my godson!”

Oh. Oh. Remus felt the fight flee from his body in one rush. Oh, no. Sirius’ chest was heaving, and with each harsh inhale, more pain etched his expression. He looked down at the dishtowel in his hand, wrung tight between his white knuckles. It was harder than he thought to pry his fingers off it and set it on the countertop. “Sirius…”

“He’s so little. He’s so little, and I wasn’t there when he was born, and every time I try and be there now it’s like nobody wants me to.” Sirius’ voice wavered and he took a shaky breath, crossing his arms over his chest. Remus couldn’t make himself move. “That’s all I want, Re.”

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered. Tears threatened the backs of his eyes; Sirius’ were already filling, and he sniffled them back. “Sirius, I…”

Sirius shook his head. “I know.”

“That wasn’t what I meant by any of it.”

“Yeah, I know.”

The rough edge of his voice grated on Remus’ heart; he closed some of the distance between them, hands hanging useless by his sides. “I just didn’t want to see you hurting,” he said at last. “And I totally fucked it up.”

“No, no you didn’t.” Sirius tipped his head back, like he was willing the tears to go back where they had come from.

“I did,” Remus repeated. “I’m sorry, Sirius. Baby, I’m so sorry.”

“I know you were trying to help,” he said thickly. “But I—I didn’t get to hold Reg as a baby and I told James I would be there for him and nobody is letting me do anything and what if he doesn’t know me? He’s just a baby, what if I’m not important to him?”

Remus fought the tremor of his lower lip. “You are,” he managed. “Every time you go over, he lights right up like he just saw his favorite person in the world.”

The first sob made Sirius’ shoulders jerk and he clenched his fist, biting back a groan. Remus stepped closer and carefully uncurled it, sliding his own there instead. Sirius fell into him, his arms still tucked against his chest while Remus rubbed light circles over his back. “I’m a horrible godfather,” Sirius said into his shoulder, misery in every word.

“You’ve only been one for three weeks,” Remus laughed humorlessly. If you’re a horrible godfather, I’m the worst boyfriend in history. “I think Harry can cut you some slack for broken bones.”

Sirius hiccupped. “Do you really think I can’t take care of myself?”

Remus had been wrong before. This was the real killing bite of karma. Next time, universe, please just beat me with a baseball bat. It’ll hurt less. “I think I’m more of a control freak than I like to admit,” he said with a kiss to the shell of Sirius’ ear. “I think you’re a lot smarter than anyone gives you credit for. I think you have the patience of a saint for living in the same house as a medic when you’re injured.”

“Can’t exactly kick you out, now.”

“I’ll could sleep over at Talkie’s.”

“Non, you two would elope before the week was out. I’d never stand a chance.”

Remus buried his smile in the bend of Sirius’ neck as weak laughter shook them both. The house, what little he could see of it over Sirius’ shoulder, was less of a mess than he expected. “Baby?”

Sirius made a quiet noise.

“Wanna finish these nachos with me?”

The apology must have come through clear enough. Sirius relaxed in his arms and his hands moved down to bracket Remus’ hips, fingers slipping into his belt loops once more. He bent for a chaste kiss that deepened for just a moment before pulling away, though their noses still bumped at the end. “You taste like vodka, a little bit,” Sirius informed him.

“That’s the closest you’re getting to any big kid drinks until you’re done with your meds.”

“Re?”

“Yes?”

“You’re doctor-ing again.”

Remus winced. “Sorry.”

Sirius kissed him again, which felt like a good sign. “If this is the closest I’m getting to vodka—” He paused to tilt his head and Remus felt his knees go gooey at the brush of soft lips. “—then I’d better savor it, hmm?”

“Yeah, you better,” Remus said, a little dizzy with the rush. Party adrenaline, explosive catharsis, ginger-beer-flavored kisses—he didn’t know what he’d do if the night kept going like this.

They ate the nachos eventually, elbow-to-elbow at the kitchen counter. Remus kept his mouth shut until Sirius’ timer went off and he took his meds, no reminders necessary. When they went to bed that night, the pillow barrier didn’t cross either of their minds.

When they woke in the morning, Sirius held his hand.

#remus lupin #sirius black #coops #talker #thomas walker #james potter #lily evans #jily #harry potter #baby harry #sweater weather #lumosinlove #my fic #fanfic #broken ribs #hurt/ comfort #argument

[dancing-with-the-madmen]

Stede and the Thanatos Drive *

I wrote this reply off the cuff and thought I was done with it:

but it turns out I have more to say. Because, yes, Stede kind of has a death wish. It’s not the Thanatos Drive as proposed by Freud, exactly (mostly because freudian bullshit is bullshit), whereby the instinct toward and desire for death are the subconscious motivation driving destructive and aggressive behavior. In Stede’s case, it’s more of a crushing dearth of self-esteem and nearly complete lack of ability to set appropriate boundaries borne from a lifetime of relentless verbal, emotional, and physical abuse at the hands of his parents and peers that sees him passively accepting of further abuse and disrespect, even to the point of death. Stede assumes that people wanting him dead is just the default mode for all humanity upon making his acquaintance. And because he has been shown and told all his life just how worthless he is, and how wrong about everything he values, he assumes they’re right, actually, and he is utterly undeserving of respect, and death is more or less what he deserves.

In the pilot, Stede lets Badminton humiliate him in front of his friends and in private without much more pushback than the suggestion that he had thought of himself as a slender child rather than “a porker”. When things go down, and Olu asks Stede if he wants to live, his reply is “That’s a tough question”, and when Olu asks again, his answer is “I think so! Probably!” Which is… not much better. He doesn’t even flinch or try to argue when Olu tells him “Everyone up there wants you dead”, and Lucius confirms, “It’s true.” He may have been “caring, supportive, and responsive to their needs” and provided the crew with luxury amenities and financial stability, but it comes as no surprise to him all that wasn’t enough to override the innate deficiencies of his character that lead people to wanting him to die.

When the Spanish captain stabs him in episode 3, Stede’s not angry or indignant. He just asks:

They have, after all, just barely been introduced to one another. The stabbing isn’t a surprise, merely how quickly after first acquaintance it took place. Then, to add insult to injury, just as he bleeding from a gut wound and about to be hanged, Jim remonstrates him for being “the worst fuckin’ pirate captain in history.” His reply?

Because of course those are going to be his final words. It’s been the mantra on an endless fucking loop in his head his whole life through.

In episode 9, when the English sentence him to death by firing squad for the death of Nigel Badminton, he denies Ed’s earnest insistence that they’ll find a way out of it.

This seems, at first glance, like a backslide in his character development. Did we not see him coming to terms with his part in Nigel’s death, even admitting he didn’t actually feel all that bad that Nigel is dead? Why would he think he deserves death for having killed Nigel? But Nigel is incidental. He deserves this the way he deserved Jim’s condemnation of his captaining skills. He deserves this because death is all he really deserves, isn’t it?

He’s not even mad at Mary when she tries to murder him in his sleep. He’s much more upset by the means by which she attempted to accomplish her goal.

But for all of this, there’s a great big asterisk to Stede’s passive resignation to being treated like absolute shit. And that asterisk is named Izzy Hands.

Their first encounter goes off well enough, given the circumstances. Stede is, after all, trying to steal the hostages that he lost when he himself was captured by the native villagers. Izzy is defending his purchased hostages, and as far as we and Stede can see, Izzy is calm and responsive to Stede’s sallies instead of the cursing, feral chihuahua we will all come to know and love. Even when he shreds Stede’s shirt with his saber and says “This is how you die,” it’s not so much a threat as a warning; an acknowledgement of his superior prowess with the blade and Stede’s foolishness if he insists on persevering in his intended theft. Izzy remains calm and receptive even when the distraction works and Stede gets the upper hand, agreeing to Stede’s terms of splitting the hostages, and letting them go even though he and Fang, and even poor Ivan with his broken nose, could probably have overtaken and made light work of them quite easily. All in all, as agreeable an introduction as one might hope for when one person is robbing another. (and also Izzy was almost certainly ACHINGLY turned on by having another man best him and hold him at knife point and WILL die mad about it, actually, because he will be DAMNED if he will even admit that is his kink, thankyouverymuch. Oh no. Have I talked myself into a new ship? Behold! A tiny, filthy garbage scow hoves into my fandom harbor and docks in the shadow of the battleship Blackbonnet).

So what’s astonishing to me is that, every time after this initial encounter, Stede is notably aggro toward Izzy. He greets Izzy in Jackie’s pub with an aggrieved sigh and a derisive “You again!” He then proceeds to get Izzy’s name wrong, and when corrected, doubles the fuck down on his dismissiveness, accuse Izzy of stealing (though that was clearly what he was doing TO Izzy at their last encounter, and Izzy agreed to Stede’s terms without reserve), and insult him by saying his boss “has terrible taste in flunkies”. I mean to say, really?!?! All this from the same man who, mere minutes later is resigned to Jackie cutting off his nose because he accidentally knocked over the nose jar, even though he was in the process of picking noses off the dirt floor with his bare hands WHILE WEARING HEAD-TO-TOE WHITE, and would certainly have gotten her any new receptacle her heart could possibly desire.

And through the whole exchange, Izzy is fairly pleasant - or at least as pleasant as a deeply unpleasant little gremlin of a man (affectionate) gets. He insults the bar, sure, but Stede himself uses profanity, so it’s not like he’s some wilting lily who would get bent out of shape over someone else cursing in his vicinity. The only time Izzy gets the least bit out-of-line with Stede is when he gets in his face and growls the correct pronunciation of his name, and he immediately reigns himself back in even while Stede continues to escalate the situation. The viewers know that Izzy has been shit-talking behind Stede’s back (“Pirates, my ass” was said under his breath while Stede and his crew ran away giggling like schoolkids & “Stupid fucking Stede Bonnet” was said on a whole other ship in the privacy of the captain’s quarters), but Stede would have no way of knowing, and therefore no reason to be treating Izzy with such outright contempt and disrespect.

The next time Stede sees Izzy, after he has (mostly) recovered from his gut wound in episode 4, he greets him with another sneer.

Izzy is rough and abrupt with Stede this time, but, frankly, can you blame him? It is literally zero hour if they’re going to defend themselves and/or run from the Spaniards, and this bitch has given him nothing but sass. And THEN, Stede calls him out as an asshole TO HIS BOSS.

They don’t interact directly again until episode 6, at which point there’s a curious shift in their dynamic. Izzy yells at and insults Stede (“His name is Blackbeard, dog!”), at which point, Stede backs down and fucks off witha huffy little passive-aggressive remark about “trouble in paradise”. Later, when Stede is floating the idea of performing a fuckery for the Dutch merchant vessel, Izzy comes in with a back-handed compliment, “As much as I hate to admit it, Captain Bonnet’s theatrical instincts are finely honed. He’s more than up to the challenge.” Stede replies with the most warmth and cordiality we have ever seen him offer Izzy - even going so far as to suggest he may have misjudged him. It’s like Stede can only afford Izzy any respect when Izzy DISrespects him. You know, like all right-thinking people SHOULD.

We see a shift back to the old dynamic when Izzy makes the mistake of admiring Stede’s library and complimenting the construction of the captain’s quarters, even in a back-handed sort of way. Stede feels no compunction about venting his frustrations about his stymied hopes for the fuckery on an ameliorating Izzy. But Izzy has built his career on managing Ed’s mercurial moods, and is well versed in how to turn the tides once more. He calls Stede a “little shit” and tells him Ed adores him, but in a frankly insulting way: “Why, I’ll never know, but… he does.” (le sigh)  And now Stede is properly primed. A disapproving god is in His heaven, and all is right with the world. Of COURSE Stede will abide Izzy’s wishes and recommit himself to the fuckery! I mean, just look at “The Soul’s Awakening” of this poor sucker’s face.

So is it any wonder that he agrees to the post-fuckery duel, even knowing how skilled Izzy is? Even with Stede’s whole Dunning-Kruger effect approach to all aspects of piracy, surely he can’t think he has a real chance, right? Izzy comes in with more invective and ire than we’ve ever before seen him direct at Stede, and kicks Stede’s Thanatos drive into overdrive. This is how he dies, after all, right? But then he doesn’t. He holds his own more or less. It turns kind of playful (to him, at least). And finally, he can sass Izzy about draws and how his mast is so very big and hard  - much bigger and harder than Izzy’s pathetic little broken blade.

And I’m just stuck wondering why Izzy is the only person for whom Stede will not lay down and die. It’s not the defference. There are plenty of people who are polite to Stede, and he doesn’t go all aggro on them. As much as it would amuse me, it isn’t even a “get your hands off my man” reaction, because some of Stede’s worst unprovoked sniping comes before Stede has even met Ed or knows in what way Izzy is connected with him. Also, we see Stede take all manner of shit from Calico Jack without ever pushing back (until he hurts a member of Stede’s crew. Insult him all you like, but screw with his crew at your own peril!), even when Jack figuratively (and then literally) marks his territory by referencing his former intimacy with Ed.

If I had to guess, I would say that it’s a matter of like repelling like. Izzy may not have the same deficiencies as Stede, or even to the same level, but Stede knows another self-hating repressed closet-case when he sees one. And he knows that, because the whole world has shown him so, that kind is not worthy of respect.

#ofmd #our flag means death #ofmd meta #stede bonnet #Will someone PLEASE hug this poor boy?

[dragonmuse]

You mention that Eddy and Stede met each other when they're both ready to make a leap. What would have happened if THEY'D met at a different point in time? Like, what if it had been Eddy that Stede and Mary had met in the Brat Pack timeline instead of Izzy and Faith? Do you think they'd still have gotten together and been happy together, or would it have been a case of right person wrong time?

(ok, so the honest answer is that I think Eddy wouldn’t even notice Stede if they met earlier and Stede would’ve been too afraid to talk to her. BUT. I have wanted to imagine them meeting earlier so much! in fact Stede talks about it several times and they have both fantasized about what that would be like in the canon of the verse, so fuck honesty, here is what I would hope them meeting as teens would be like. Please have this bulleted AU, you all know the drill by now. Let’s call this one...Hello Young Lovers) 

-Stede is home for the holidays. He’s almost done with boarding school and he has a college acceptance in hand. No one else is home. His father and stepmother are away and for the first time in years, he’s alone in a good way. At first he doesn’t plan to leave the house. He’ll just hang out, eat what he wants, watch what he wants and live without scrutiny. But after a few days, boredom sets in and also curiosity. With a pounding heart, he buys a train ticket and goes into the city all on his own with the idea that he might go see a show. 

-Eddy has no jobs lined up for the week. She’s brand new to Hornigold’s collection (still two years from any potential collision with Izzy) and the beard is only the first promise of stubble. There’s money burning in her pocket, but no one to spend it on. Mom is gone, recently enough that it's a bleeding wound. The guys are all fine, but the crowbar incident was too recent for anyone to relax around him. Maybe Jack, but he’s on a job. 

-Eddy spots a blond guy, probably about their age. He’s looking at a light display in the window, clearly enjoying the motorized holiday fair that they’ve got going on. He looks rich, nice clothes, big warm jacket. Old instincts make Eddy��s fingers itch, but they know better than to try it. Hornigold had been very explicit about what happened to idiots who got picked up for petty crimes. Still, they edge in close. Maybe if they were really subtle.

-Stede notices a trim person with dark facial hair and lovely dark eyes looking over the same display. 

“Isn’t it something?” He asked, delighted that someone else noticed. “Someone put a lot of work into this.” 

“Oh, yeah...it’s nice,” Eddy fumbled. “Like the...sparkly bits.” 

“Me too,” Stede sighs. “The detail is incredible. Look at that little couple dancing by the tree.” 

There was a small animatronic now that he pointed it out and Eddy leaned in to observe it. 

“Sorry to ask a silly question, but am I even within a mile of the theater district?” Stede asks, a little sheepishly. “I got distracted and now I’m really turned around.” 

-Eddy doesn’t give directions to tourists, but maybe if they help out this rich kid, they’ll want to say thanks. Eddy could think of a lot of ways Stede can thank her and all of them are appealing. 

-They walk and walk and Stede just...keeps talking and noticing things and Eddy doesn’t mean to be charmed or interested. Stede acts like they’re getting away with something just going for a simple walk. At one point, he ducks into a cafe and comes out with hot chocolate for the both of them. Eddy hasn’t had hot chocolate in ages and it’s better than she remembers. They exchanged names, ideas and jokes. Stede is impressed that Eddy already has a job, a profession even if he doesn’t seem to quite understand what it is. Eddy likes the way Stede talks. 

-Stede talks Eddy into coming to see the show with him. It’s a play and they get kicked out before intermission because they’re giggling at how stiff it all is. Then Stede offers dinner because he takes the blame for getting them kicked out. They eat huge bowls of pasta with meatballs the size of Eddy’s fist and both get enormous slices of cake.  

-Stede should go home, but Eddy cajoles him into coming back to their little apartment. She only has a bed, no couch yet or chairs, so they sit on the bed and drink the six pack of lukewarm beer Eddy had left on the counter by accident. Stede’s never had more than few sips of wine before and it goes to his head. He leans in closer and he doesn’t pull away when Eddy touches his hand or elbow to underline a point. 

“So that’s why I wound up failing math,” Stede shrugged. “But I think I won in the end.” 

“Yeah, mate, sure,” Eddy smiled at him. “Bet you win more than lose in the end.” 

“Not historically,” Stede sighed. “What about you?” 

“Oh I’m a winner,” Eddy said solemnly. “Stick with me and who knows where you’ll wind up?” 

“It sounds more fun than where I’m going,” Stede’s smile came back. His lips were very pink and his teeth were very white. Eddy wanted to make a mess of his hair. Of his clothes. Of whatever starch someone had tried to put in his soul. 

“You wanna make out?” Eddy blurted. 

“What?” Stede’s eyes went wide. “Oh no, I-” 

“Fuck, okay then,” Eddy laughed, ready to play it off as a joke. “I meant-” 

“Wait,” Stede took a deep breath, gave her a long probing look. He was clearly scared out of his mind, but that didn’t stop him from saying, “I’m probably not very good. I haven’t really done anything with anyone and I don’t think I-” 

Eddy didn’t wait for him to finish. He wasn’t any good really, but he had a lot of enthusiasm. He was appreciative of Eddy’s tattoos once their shirts were off and despite his nerves, he didn’t stop once as they plowed through making out straight into sex. 

-Stede curled up against Eddy’s side after, tentative, but soft as he stroked a hand down Eddy’s arm.  

-Eddy let’s him stay. Wants him to stay. Maybe asks him, so quietly that it seems impossible that Stede could’ve heard, but he does. They share Eddy’s blanket and despite the chill outside, they’re warm there together. 

-The morning should’ve been an end to it. But Stede didn’t know the rules apparently and Eddy wasn’t sure she cared. When he wrote his number down and asked for hers, she gave it to him. What did it matter? He’d never call. 

-He called that night. And the next. They talked for hours about nothing. Then Eddy got called to a job, no warning and they were gone for days, doing boring shit even. When they got home, their voicemail was full, messages from Stede that got shorter and shorter until a last ‘I’m going back to school in a few days. So...goodbye, I guess.” 

-Eddy has ways of finding people. She drives to the stupidly large house in the creepily all the same neighborhood. It takes her a second to work up the nerve to ring the doorbell.  

-Stede answers the door and when he sees her, he lights up like the animatronics he’d admired so much when they first met. He pulls them into the house, not bothering to ask them a thing and Eddy goes with him, giddy with relief. His bedroom isn’t Stede-like at all, just plain and sensible and neat. Only hints of him in the books piled into the bookcase and tiny wooden ship tucked in beside them. 

-”I just have the last semester,” he explained when they’d worn themselves out. Eddy sat naked in the middle of his enormous bed and Stede lay across it at her feet. “And then I’ll be free.” 

“Why not be free now?” She challenged. “Run off with me.” 

“Sounds nice,” he sighed. “But it’s not so simple.” 

“It should be.” 

It isn’t. Stede does have to go. They spend three days in the huge empty house and then a car comes for him. Eddy waits with him on the lawn for it. She has his address at school in her pocket and her hand on the small of his back. Stede doesn’t dare kiss her here, in the open of this suffocating neighborhood. But he does turn to her, and say without any hesitation, “I love you. Write me, okay?” 

“Yeah,” Eddy said roughly. “I will.” 

He doesn’t love her. If she thinks that’s true than she’ll go mad with it. And she won’t write him. This’ll die as it should’ve days ago. 

-She hadn’t reckoned on Stede writing her. Long letters, rambling and disconnected, but also full of things that he wants them to know. He draws stick figure illustrations in the margins and ends each letter with ‘Love, Stede’.  

-Eddy writes back because the letters are the most interesting thing she has. She writes back because if she doesn’t he’ll stop and then what? Her letters are far shorter, terse and lacking entirely in real information. That doesn’t stop Stede for thanking them for each one, for acknowledging what she said. 

-Summer brings him home, but he doesn’t do more than stop at his sterile house. He comes to her as soon as he can wiggle away and he brings with him the sun. All the light in Eddy’s world arrives at one time. Stede moves himself in and there are pretty curtains on her windows, extra blankets and pillows on her bed. Stede feathers their nest so quickly and completely that she can barely remember how it used to look within a few days. 

-”I’m going to school here.” He told her on the first night of his return. “Dad’ll probably cut me off, but I figured out how to funnel out some money into a personal account. Well. One of the other boy’s said how he did it and I copied them.” 

“You did what?” Eddy sat down hard. 

“I’m not under any illusion that I can make real money for some time, but I won’t be a burden on you,” Stede shrugged. “He won’t miss it, it’s from one of his less legal accounts. He doesn’t think I’m clever enough to steal. It will get me through school at least.” 

Eddy had never been so hot for someone in her entire short life. 

-Hornigold gets wind that Eddy’s got someone, but lots of the guys do and no one really asks. Stede doesn’t meet their work friends. Stede eeks out a few friends at college, including a very nice girl named Mary, who thinks Eddy is hysterical and has no issue treating everyone to fancy meals on her parent’s credit cards. 

-It should fall apart. Eddy expects it to. Work takes them away from Stede regularly. She comes back battered and bruised. He just kisses them. Tucks them into bed. Their dark moods sweep in and Stede offers them treats and leaves them alone if they ask for it. Stede doesn’t really understand the world, makes ridiculous mistakes and Eddy tries to be annoyed, furious even, but instead she just teaches him and he learns without complaint. 

-They tell him that they love him over breakfast because he gives them the rest of the bacon and that is the last drop that spills the water over the rim of the glass of their heart.

"I love you," they say with all the sincerity they can which granted, isn't much.

Stede cries. Which is ridiculous and horrible and then he pulls them into his lap and buries his face in their hair. Maybe Eddy cries too. No one can prove anything, with the way their face was turned.

-Stede finishes college in three years, studying like a demon and determined. He’s not really cut out for the life his father set out for him, and loving beautiful things is no way to make a living. Or so Eddy assumed, prepared to be the main breadwinner for the rest of whatever they were doing lasted. 

Instead, Stede worms his way into a fashion startup. He’s got bold ideas and while his business sense is questionable, it’s better than any of his colleagues. The ruthlessness that was always in him, sharpened with years of living with Eddy catapults him forward. He brings home good money. Then fucking great money. 

-They move. They get a good place with a view of the river. Eddy spends a lot of time looking out that window. Going to work fills her with dread. She wants to stay here in the velvet and silk world Stede has made for them. 

“Ok, then don’t,” Stede said unconcerned. “Do something else.” 

“Don’t know how to be anything else.” 

“Don’t say that, you’re wonderfully decorative,” he teased. “And you’re clever and quick. You could be whatever you wanted.” 

“I know I could,” she realized. “I can do whatever.” 

Which is too many choices. Too many things. She’s drinking with Izzy one night, fucking annoying asshole, but he’s less annoying than the rest of them. He’s clearly into her, but she’s never even thought to give him the time of day. But wisdom comes from strange sources. They've just put an end to a fucking awful job using a combination of shooting and some excellent, if slapdash, sleuthing.

“You know, we would make better detectives than the fucking cops.” 

Eddy stared at him. Izzy stared back. 

“Yeah. We really fucking would.” 

After some debate, she takes Izzy with her when she goes. He comes along like packed luggage and proves himself so useful that she never lives to regret it. Being away from Hornigold does them both a lot of good. Izzy stops acting like someone’s going to stab him the neck if he says please and thank you so that’s nice. Stede is so grateful that Eddy’s happier that he starts a one-man friendship assault on the poor weirdo. 

“Make him stop,” Izzy begged, but Eddy just laughed. Eventually, Stede’s persistence won out, as it often did, and Izzy would instead call Stede to ask him to make Eddy stop whatever annoying bullshit she was on that week. It didn't work, but the complaining seemed to help him.

-She came out ten years earlier. It’s easy to figure out who she is when she’s drowning in Stede’s creations and boundless affection. It's easy as breathing and hard as hell, but they come out the other side lighter.

-Stede proposes in front of the store where they first met. It’s even snowing a little, like the weather itself got its shit together for it. 

-Their wedding is small, but lovely. Just a few friends. Eddy won’t wear white, so Stede does, pleased to put her in a black wedding dress. Mary designs their invitations. Izzy organizes the reception like it’s a military operation.  

-They do great things. They have world enough and time.

#leda house and the kraken verse #hello young lovers

[missimformation]

Moving Mountains: Preparation "That was so much fun!" Izzy said, stumbling her way out of the bar behind Ronnee. "It always is." Ronnee replied in her usual "monotone" voice. It wasn't that Ronnee didn't speak indifferently, but her voice was a bit lower and less upbeat than a lot of women her age; actually most of her life once she hit puberty. She was a bit of a tomboy, that was true. She always had been. Sports came naturally to her, athleticism "ran in her blood" as the saying goes. Her naturally solemn nature only hardened as she grew older. After the tragic passing of her father, it felt as though even her emotions and feelings were solemn too, whereas before it was simply her external physical appearance. She was raised to be tough, to "dust yourself off" and get back up. She wasn't taught how to do that after a life-altering event. Nobody ever teaches you that.

"Are you even listening?" Izzy peaked over Ronnee's shoulder from behind her, reaching over to drape her arms in a hug from behind. "When do you get a vacation from that "job" of yours?" Ronnee couldn't stop from letting the smile raise the corners of her mouth. "Why do you say it like that? It is a job, ya know?" An overdramatic huff came from Izzy, clearly dramatizing her feelings about the strenuous career path Ronnee chose. "I can't help it," Ronnee shrugged, "I signed my life away to be in the military and there is no going back on that." The military was a rash decision on Ronnee's part and although she felt pride for what she did, the fleeting thought passed through her mind that Izzy's overdramatic eye roll of a sentence wasn't far from the truth. The moment Ronnee turned eighteen, she was running for the hills. She was emotionally damaged from the toxic back and forth verbal, mental, and emotional turmoil her mother was constantly dragging her through. It wasn't anything new for Ronnee. Her mother had never been one to express her love and emotions by sitting her children down and having an age-appropriate conversation. The motherly instinct was far from normal and still wasn't. Ronnee quickly distanced herself from any and everybody associated with her mother… including her half siblings. She hadn't seen them in nearly 5 years.

Ronnee knew that the annual vacation her and Izzy took every year to Mt. Komerebi to see Yuri was coming near. She had been granted a few weeks for vacations, but hadn't told Izzy yet, mostly because she found it satisfying to tease her friend every now and then. "Okay, okay…,"Ronnee said, "I already have it planned out. Put it down in your calendar because we are extending our vacation by a week." Considering Izzy was clearly tipsy, her reaction seemed a bit delayed as she stared for a couple seconds too long before bursting into a smile that Ronnee never got tired of seeing. "No way!" Izzy exclaimed. "Yes way." Ronnee said with a bit of a playful grin. Before she could brace herself, she felt Izzy leap onto her back and hug her tightly. "Piggyback ride, baby!" They were both laughing now, the bond between the two as natural as it was, making other customers outside of the bar smile as well as they passed by.

"You know I wouldn't let you go too long thinking I couldn't make it this year." Ronnee peaked over, glimpsing back at Izzy who smiled widely and winked, "Yeah, I know… better facetime Yuri now!" [Thank you for your interactions and for additional screenshots of Moving Mountains: Preparations, you can head over to my casual blog @casualmissimformation which is also linked in my bio.]

#simblr #moving mountains #sims 4 stories #sims screenshots #the sims 4 custom content #the sims 4 #the sims community #sims storytelling #storytelling #ts4 gameplay #ts4 #the sims #sims 4

[paigelts05]

FNAF Renegade AU designs: RD robotics

https://www.deviantart.com/paigelts05/art/FNAF-Renegade-AU-designs-RD-robotics-864598021

Published: Dec 20, 2020

So, I designed some of the charaters from the FNAF AR emails a while ago, but I missed a bunch that seemed like they weren't from the same company. Looks like it's design time. For Nora and Tristan, I knew what I wanted: angry tiny woman shin breaker and tall lanky string bean who wants the earth to swallow him whole. I had to rush Tristan's colour scheme, and yes I've been working on this since a bit before October, so made him Daniel Rocha's brother and worked his colour palette from there. As for Nora, well, as of October 7th, I decided the hair colour to be green. She's the green one of this bunch. Izzy was a bit harder to design, but I settled on a kind and soft woman. Charles was a pain in the neck, and it took me ages to figure out a hair style, but I had his motives set down to a T- that being someone whose just there to make money because he's broke af and bearly scraping by, and animatronics was where the money was at - from the get go. As for colours, I already kind of knew what Izzy was going to be from the get go, but Charles? No clue. I eventually managed to figure something out though. °•:*:•°•:*:•°•:*:•=°•.🌹.•°=•:*:•°•:*:•°•:*:•° This group makes up R&D robotics. They work closer with Fazbear Entertainment, recreating the machines from the 80's and 90's and bringing them to life in the modern world. When they took the contract, they weren't initially aware of the danger they were in. As it's a small company, no-ones role - aside from Charles's - is usually set in stone, so one day, someone could be the whole compliance team, and the next, they're on circuit board installation duty, teh next, who knows. On the plus side, they've all become firm friends. Sometimes, emails aimed at Fazbear Entertainment's research and development divison mistakenly make their way to them, but they're still expected to handle it. Tristan: He's the backbone of this place. Whilst he usually works with Nora, making the animatronics, he's the guy who goes around making sure everyone takes breaks and doesn't do anything stupid - likely because he suffers from having so much empathy that second hand embarrassment could easily be the death of him. He's self-conscious about his height, and really dislikes the fact he has an inignorable presence. Whilst making machines is his main job, he also distributes notifications within the firm and sometimes to other firms that they're working alongside if applicable if Izzy is busy. Nora: She only looks short because she's always compared to Tristan. This results in people low-balling her age by between fifteen.and twenty years, dispite standing at five foot seven and a half inches; eye to eye with many normal people. Being 32, she finds this low-balling of her age very insulting, especially since she's Tristan's senior by three years. Likely because of this, she's a seething ball of rage who acts fast no matter how loud the result would be. When she's not angry, it's hard to tell, as she's loud anyway, but those who know her can tell. Also, she works on building animatronics, rotating between casing construction, endo skeleton creation, and other tasks as needed. Charles: The owner of R&D robotics. Handles the business and finance side. He may seem cold, but he's just always exhausted from putting 120% into his job to try and make ends meet - not just for himself, but for his workers too. He sometimes ignores his gut instincts if doing so would help him make ends meet. He frequently gets reminded by Tristan to take a break and that what he does for everyone is appreciated. Charles, in return, reminds Tristan that he needs to take a break too. Izzy: She is a gentle soul. Izzy mainly deals with correspondence and customers. She's usually the first to know everything, but as she's always busy with another customer, she usually relays what she needs to tell everyone to Tristan in order for him to tell everyone. Whilst correspondence is her main job, she usually winds up helping out Nora and Tristan if the emails stop flooding in. °•:*:•°•:*:•°•:*:•=°•.🌹.•°=•:*:•°•:*:•°•:*:•°

#2020 #art #fanart #artwork #Renegade AU Guards #Renegade AU #Renegade AU Ref #FNAF Renegade AU #fnaf #fnaf au #fnaf tristan #fnaf nora #fnaf isolde #fnaf charles #fnaf fanart #fnaf ar emails #fnaf ar nora #fnaf ar tristain #fnaf ar isolde #fnaf ar charles #fnaf izzy #fnaf special delivery

[love-and-rockers]

1-3 with all four !!

yay for aesthetic!

what colour do you associate with them?

burgundy/blood colour. red but a lot deeper and richer, in fact i think that's the colour that she goes for with everything, lipstick, nails, clothes she always loves this colour. the blood comparison especially fits with how she often thinks about her body/organically and how it relates to who she is. levi's indigo as a bonus colour though :)

what animal do you associate with them?

brown/black bear. for the maternal instincts of protecting those she cares about and being down to bat with anyone who threatens her tribe but also for the absolute carnage that can be caused from her when she's provoked. get out the way of a provoked andy because she'll dig her claws in deep.

i also associate her with crows but i feel like that's a different explanation.

what element do you associate with them?

i assume we're going for the traditional greek elements not the periodic table (she's a halogen btw, axl's an alkali metal, duff's a transition metal and yoko's a chalcogen [izzy's a noble gas]) but fire! pretty obvious considering she is a fire sign but she likes to burn either as a warm candle or a forest blaze. the heat that can keep others safe but also in danger but she mist use up fuel to keep herself sustained

what colour do you associate with them?

rust. almost like the warm/orange tone of andy's colour. of course from the natural colour of his hair, especially when it's damp. but also how metal, a texture that he often associates with, his rings and necklaces as well as his gun collection, rusts down with time. rust will eventually envelope the other metal that once gave the sheen, he grows over time.

what animal do you associate with them?

tiger. a beautiful marvel in the animal kingdom and a top predator in their game fr, very dangerous to be close when they are on the hunt but also amazing to look at in the wild. yet also hunted into near extinction, everyone wanting to take the trophy of the hunt by trapping them.

what element do you associate with them?

fire (and earth). i feel like fire is quite obvious for axl, i think that it suits him to go alongside andy, can easily lead to be a blaze that can take down a whole field but also a calming fireplace in the winter, as well as the explosive tendencies. but i also like earth, a very steady foundation that rarely changes with time or the seasons.

what colour do you associate with them?

dior pink. like the blush colour which is a bright bubblegum pink colour. it's her favourite colour but is also ultra ultra feminine which is something that yoko loves and is a key part of her personality that she loves for herself.

what animal do you associate with them?

fox. a classic japanese animal of course but an animal that has a lot of personality, like yoko. they are both sneaky and cunning but also viewed as majestic and bringing good fortune. very playful but also have a large bite when she's pressured and will attack meeker creatures on her territory.

what element do you associate with them?

air. constantly moving with time and never the same again. but also as communication as well as the breath of life for just about all organisms. yet also fickle and changing with the wind.

what colour do you associate with them?

pale denim blue. a very cool but natural colour for duff i think. i don't really have that much of an explanation for this one, i just think it suits duff's non-aggressive nature. while i think he is extroverted he also isn't as in your face as the others are.

what animal do you associate with them?

raccoons. i have my reasons, they are mesopredators which mean they are generally less aggressive than apex but also fight when threatened and can win. maybe less traditional when they fight, i feel like duff won't be walked all over but he'll also try and not jump to fight but will scrap and win when the opportunity arises.

what element do you associate with them?

earth. very steady in position and unchanging with time yet also very strong and holding up for everyone else's bullshit. a rock and a home for everyone but also solid in his beliefs.

i feel like these explanations were hella long, sorry if you didn't want all that xx

#my biology a level is coming in clutch #google searchs be about apex predators #voicemails 📞 #🫀 aa meetings #oc ask game

[phantom-ellie]

hark, a fashion statement

Click here for CWs/Full Chapter List

OFMD Kinktober 2022 Prompt 3: Collars

It's Stede's turn to spice up the bedroom with Ed. Stede's heard about collars. Vaguely.

Part of Series Our Flag Means Stupid Bad Sex: For Kinktober 2022, my attempt to portray each kink prompt in the most unsexy manner possible. If anything in here manages to turn you on, you are a special snowflake and I salute you on your unique life path.

It's Stede's turn to spice up the bedroom. Honestly, after the blindfold debacle (and the subsequent week-long wait for the burns to subside) he is excited to show Ed how it's done when it comes to fashionable marital aids.

But for some reason Lucius isn't keen on helping Stede with this one, which is weird, since he is normally so very invested in Stede and Ed's relationship. Lucius holds up his hands, turns around, and runs for the kitchen. Perhaps he's hungry? Does Stede need to increase his crew's rations?

At that point Stede remembers that that can be someone else's job to worry about, like Izzy or something, because Stede's free of dickburns and ready to try collars. As soon as he'd encountered the concept in one of the erotic books he'd been reading (when not rudely interrupted by Izzy questioning him about stupid literary devices like personification or whatever), he'd gone straight to the market and bought only the best. Only the best for Ed.

If only to show Ed how it's done, because despite his long years at sea Ed is clearly confused about a lot of things with regards to the bedroom. And Stede has experienced being married, so he knows all about it. Absolutely, most definitely, there is nothing he can be taught after his experience with Mary.

So when Ed enters for what Stede calls their "nightly marital sensual journey" and what Ed calls a "fuckin' session," Stede can't help but smile confidently at what he has prepared for them.

"I'm going to put a fine thing on you, Ed," Stede says as sultrily as possible, which isn't very sultry, because Stede is a stupid fucking dork, but it 100% works on Ed, who is also a stupid fucking dork.

Ed blushes, "I like wearing your things. Got one of those nice suits for me?"

Stede shakes his head knowingly. "No... because under what I give you, you are going to be completely naked."

"Oh fuck," Ed says, which is Ed-speak for, 'oh my.' He rubs his hands together as Stede pulls out what looks like a giant bedsheet.

Stede holds it up, mouth open with the stupid fucking dorkiest smile imaginable, eyes wide. "Do you like it?"

"Uh..." What the fuck is it?

"What the fuck is it?"

Stede laughs, happy to educate Ed about sexual intimacy. "It's a collar, Ed." He sticks his hand through the hole.

"A... collar?"

"Yes! An Elizabethan collar!"

"Who the fuck is Elizabeth?"

"The queen! The virgin queen!"

"I thought England has a king."

"It does! Elizabeth died, like, ages ago! But her fashion lives on, see?" This conversation isn't exactly going where Stede wanted it to, but then again, that's how every conversation with Ed goes, and Stede knows what he signed up for when he married him. So before Ed can get any more distracted by dead queens named Elizabeth, Stede marches up and shoves the collar over Ed's head.

The collar is huge. So huge, it covers Ed's entire body like the world's whitest and most boring Mumu. In fact, Ed is pretty sure his mom owned this exact Mumu.

"So... how are you supposed to fuck in this? It covers my arms. And my dick. And my ass."

Stede's face falls.

"You know, I didn't actually think this far ahead. I'm not sure."

"Stede!" Ed tries to facepalm, but necessarily brings the entire collar with his hand, so it's more like a collar-palm.

Stede pouts. He's so good at pouting. Much better than Stede is at sex, but Ed knew what he signed up for when he married him. So he moves on instinct and lifts the damn collar over Stede's head, too. So they're both under there. That's sexy, right?

"This is sexy, right?" Ed asks.

"I don't know?" Stede looks entirely out of his depth.

"I mean, we could take our clothes off, and like... do it like this? Under the Mu-the collar?"

Stede smiles the smile Ed married him for.

"Yes! That's a great idea!"

Except it's hard to take off clothes when you're attached to someone else at the neck, and it's impossible to pull clothes over your head when there's a giant collar-slash-Mumu on top of them, and it's very impossible to do this while also trying to move towards the bed, maybe, when the other person is trying to make for the couch instead.

Which is how they end up on the floor, tangled in a collar and shirts and trousers and they're not even sure which ones belong to whom. And somewhere deep down under all those layers are the private parts they'd really love to engage with in some wholesome marital activity, but their arms are tangled and they can't reach.

"No wonder she was a fuckin' virgin." Ed pants.

Stede pouts again. "I'm sorry, Ed. I should have been more prepared. I just wanted you to have a good time."

Ed smiles and does the little wiggle with his body Stede married him for.

"Just being with you is a good time, darling," says Ed.

"I love it when you call me darling, babycakes," replies Stede.

And if they fall asleep there, losing blood in various extremities cut-off by errant trousers and shirt sleeves and leather, no one has to know, at least not until Izzy comes looking for them and finds them like that, at which point he decides to give himself another raise.

Because that's Izzy job or whatever.

#ofmd kinktober #no.3 #collars #stede x ed #gentlebeard #blackbonnet #ofmd crack #ofmd fanfic #our flag means death fanfic #cross posted on ao3 #ellie crack #ellie kinktober

[anothermalecblog]

Alec: [reading a recipe] Beat 3 eggs...

Alec: At what? Hand-to-hand combat?

Izzy: Must be.

Magnus: Out of the kitchen, you two!

#we never got to see the Lightwood siblings in the kitchen and I think that's injustice #Alec needs word-to-word instruction #Izzy goes with her instinct #it would be wonderful chaos #incorrect shadowhunters quotes #incorrect malec quotes #shadowhunters #shadowhunters chat #shadowhunters crack #Magnus Bane #Alec Lightwood #izzy lightwood #malec

[doublel27]

Carlos Reyes and that line “Typical TK. The first time he wants to talk to me in months and it’s because he’s in the ICU.” - A meta

A few things we know about Carlos:

Acts of service are his particular love language. We see it with all the people that matter to him.

Michelle and Marjan he makes sure he’s the person that arrests them for their causes, tries to keep them safe, advises them to maybe consider not getting arrested but he never gets in their way, not really. He shows up and takes care of them.

With the rest of the 126, who he’s come to love, Carlos hosts the hang outs. First this is a service for TK but it’s clear this becomes something that matters to him. And it’s not just like he lets everybody hang out-he provides food, he makes sure everyone is doing well. He also shows up to be part of the clean up crew for the 126. The only other non-house members to show are Grace (and Judd and Grace are goals) and Izzy and Evie.

We watch Tommy have to go to work in the wake of her husband’s death and Carlos shows up on his day off to go babysit Izzy and Evie. It is going to be a long shift babysitting but he ends up becoming “Carlos!” Above Uncle Judd.

Lastly, with TK, Carlos will drop acts of service at TK’s feet. There’s the dinner that goes horribly awry, that Carlos cooked to be ready at midnight. There is picking up TK’s arrest papers and processing him, and taking the time to clean off his face and make sure he’s alright in the wake of that awful dinner. Carlos hosts the 126 in his house. He shows up every time TK is injured. He waits up for TK in the aftermath of the volcano and Tim’s death and holds TK. He works through TK going missing in what is already a terrible day for Carlos and FINDS him. He sits through an awkward intervention for Owen for Tk. He shows up to tell TK to his face about Gabriel arresting Owen, knowing TK is going to freak out and shoot the messenger (with reason), because Carlos can go tell TK and be there for him (hopefully). He makes dinner after their fight and takes care of TK in the aftermath and then their house burns to the ground.

Carlos Reyes is also very good at hiding/burying his emotions to function and to get his father’s approval. Carlos is a master of appearing calm and collected in the midst of what are horrifying feelings. Does this make him good at his job, sure. Is it healthy, not really.

He does it with Michelle and Marjan where he’s clearly worried and is sarcastic and quippy with Michelle but isn’t going to put his feelings on them.

He spends his time with TK focusing on TK’s emotions and less on his own(again not healthy). He’s having the worst day in Bad Call and he buries every last bit of it to find TK when he’s missing. He buries his feelings when he goes to tell TK about Owen’s arrest and his dad’s part in it. We watch him hold everything in when TK is hurt, aside from love.

The only big slips we get are him yelling at Gabriel after his dad basically says Carlos has shit instincts as a cop and breaking down into silent tears after his house burns down. Neither of these are large emotional moments or particularly demonstrative. Rafa plays Carlos as so tightly

And because of the interaction with Gabriel, we learn that Carlos’s dad has always seen him as too soft. That his own emotions are not valid or wanted if they’re not the right ones. And he also refuses to process them. It strikes me that Carlos wore his heart on his sleeve as a kid and his father was not a fan. He just wants his dad to be proud of him.

Finally, when frustrated, Carlos gets sarcastic and quippy. He does it with Michelle when she’s focused on Iris and he wants to have her be a better friend. He does it with TK in the precinct while processing him. He gets that edge in his voice when he’s trying to figure out where things stand between him and TK in the aftermath of the shooting. He does it again when he and TK argue over the run in with his parents at the farmers market. When Carlos knows he made the right call in Bad Call and Gabriel knifes him in the heart, he gets sarcastic with his father. He pulls it out with Marj in the car after he arrests her and tries to get her to back down.

Care and concern and frustration rise Carlos buries it under sarcasm. He takes that tender heart sleeve and puts a bulletproof sheen over it, so no ones can see it shattering.

So when Nancy calls him to come and see TK in the hospital, his words are covering that big wounded heart. But the actions, his act of service is to stop in the middle of a shift, in the middle of a natural disaster when things are spread incredibly thin, and go see TK. He ignores dispatch calls and heads in because TK asked for him. TK wanted and needed him and Carlos dropped everything because the act of showing up for TK was more important than acts of service for his community that’s in peril. And all of the feelings of care and concern and terror and heartbreak get hidden under a sarcastic joke, because he thinks TK asked for him now, after everything and he doesn’t need anything to see how affected he really is.

His eyes when he realized that TK didn’t ask for him because TK cannot ask for anyone, well, Rafa’s eye acting ability is a whole other meta.

#carlos reyes #tk and carlos #tarlos #tk strand #911 lone star 3x02 #911 lone star spoilers #911 lone star season 3 #911 lone star meta #carlos reyes meta #character meta #long post #meta

[calif0rnia-lovers]

Lover of Mine #5.5 | Angel Reyes.

Series Masterlist | join my gc for updates since tags are acting weird

title: For Better, or For Worse.

rating: 💙 💔

As long as you're feeling the same, I'll follow you into the flames

sum: angel fears once it's out, his secret will be the final push you need to leave. instead of confessing, he sticks out the couple's retreat to give himself a few more days with you. he makes himself a promise: he'll tell you once you two return to santo padre. but a ghost from his past pushes angel's agenda forward a few days.

words: the standard for this series....long af (that's why I break it into sections so you know where to come back to when you take a break...but seriously, please take breaks on these long ass chapters)

Ez Reyes is a smart man. There is no denying it. However, Ez never thought he would struggle to tie a tie.

He is currently outside of his father’s truck. Kneeling before his nephew, Ez concentrates as he works through the instructions he Youtube’d earlier. A usually chatty Jeyson has been silent. He slept the entire hour's drive to school. When his Uncle woke him, Jeyson shot Ez a glare that reminded him of you.

Jeyson was fine the entire weekend that you were gone, but the moment he woke up this Monday to find you had not returned his entire mood changed. He has fought Ez tooth and nail the entire morning.

Ez glances up from the tie to Jeyson. “Hey, you sure you wanna go to school today?”

“I have to go to school” Jeyson mumbles.

“Yeah, but sometimes it doesn’t hurt to take a break.” Ez offers Jeyson a smile. “If you’re not having a good day, it’s okay to stay home.”

“I don’t want to stay home with you.”

“That’s okay,” Ez chuckles. “What about Izzy?”

“I don’t want to stay home with her either.” Jeyson releases a huff before glancing down at his now fixed tie. He bends down to pick up his backpack. Slipping it onto his shoulder, Jeyson steps around his Uncle. “I want my mom to come home.”

Tommy’s gaze remains on the sleeve of his blue Stockton uniform. His fingers tug at the loose string resting against his wrist. He ignores the smirk on his older brother’s face. The passing of time has muddled the bruises on Tommy’s skin. The mixture of black and yellow stood out on the parts of him he's allowed to remain visible. No matter how he sits, the pain in his ribs is inescapable. Sleep has fallen to the way-side, the inability to get comfortable meaning he only gets it once he’s passed out from exhaustion.

“You didn’t tell me she was hot. Now I know why you were sticking up for her the other day--”

“I didn’t notice. I’m more worried about her getting me out of here.”

“Uh-huh.” Leo’s eyes roll as he watches his brother’s eyes pass over the crowded visiting center. “I’m just saying—”

“What’d you find?” Tommy’s fingers massage his temple, the irritation in his voice amplified by his brother’s antics. Lack of sleep and around-the-clock oversight and antics from Rogers has cut his fuse short. “If you didn’t find anything, you could've saved yourself a trip up here—and I could be asleep.”

“She’s not married—unless she has a habit of leaving her rings at home.”

“What? On the table?”

Leo shakes his head. “No. A jewelry box in the bedroom.”

“What about the kid?” “He has to be about eight, or nine? Name’s Jeyson. You were right, he’s definitely Angel’s. Wish I could show you the picture. He couldn’t deny that kid if he tried.”

“Yeah.” Tommy nods impatiently, motioning for him to continue. “What else?”

“Kid goes to some boujee ass prep school up north. Gilman something? Embroidered blazers, ties, the whole nine. His mom’s paying a pretty penny too, apparently, it's the best in the state. He’s into the typical shit kids are into. Star Wars, Spider-Man. Plays the piano, apparently, he’s actually really fucking good. Awards and all. His mom’s got him pretty busy. A lot of after-school activities. Looks like she and Angel rotate transportation...She must not be around right now tho.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Apart from the fact you’re still not transported to a new unit?” Leo scoffs. “The kid was with someone else when I was scouting. A girl and a kid with a prospect patch.”

“Mayans?”

“Yeah.”

“Maybe his little brother...last I heard he was hemmed up here. Haven’t seen him around tho.”

“Maybe he got out?”

Tommy dismisses Leo’s suggestion. “Most cop killers don’t walk free. What else?”

“He’s not doing a good job of keeping his nephew safe. I talked to the kid.”

Tommy’s eyes open. “You did what?”

“He walked right off with me.” Leo quietly explains. He mistakes his brother’s silence as a cue to move forward with his story. “His uncle was so into his date he didn’t even notice the kid walk off with me--”

The sight of Tommy’s hand running down his face tapers the rest of Leo’s statement.

His voice comes out low, through his clenched teeth. “I didn’t tell you to touch the kid.”

“I didn’t touch the kid,” Leo’s eyes rolled. “I got him a funnel cake—” “I don’t give a fuck—” the slamming of Tommy’s fist against the table brings the room to a brief silence. The eyes that he has attracted linger on Tommy as his glare nearly burns a hole through his brother. Rogers shrugs off the wall nearby. He takes a step of warning in Tommy’s direction. “—what you did, Leo—it was stupid.”

“How else was I supposed to get him to talk to me?”

Tommy’s response comes out slowly. Each passing word increases his irritation.

“You didn’t need him to talk to you because I didn’t ask you to talk to him. Buying him a funnel cake, or whatever the fuck your grand plan was allowed the kid to see your face. He can open up his mouth and ID you—”

“ID me,” Leo snorts, dismissing Tommy’s claim. “Relax, Tommy. He’s not a state witness, he’s a kid—“

“Yeah, and according to you and his 'boujee ass prep school,' he’s a smart ass fucking kid, Leo.” Tommy lets out a long sigh. “The last thing I need is the kid opening his mouth to his mom about some random guy approaching him.”

“Don’t worry, I played it cool. Told him I was a friend of his dad. Maybe, if you had told me exactly why I went there I wouldn’t—”

It was something Tommy had explained to his brother during their last visit. The less you know, the better.

“I already told you,” Tommy rubs at his temple, the sudden throbbing causing his jaw to clench. “I needed to double-check something.”

“And that’s what I did.” Leo sighs. “What I want to know is, why the fuck you called me all the way down here to check pictures in some house.”

Tommy studies his brother for a moment. He shifts forward, his elbows settling against the table.

“You wanna know why I didn’t tell you? You don’t think, Leo. I ask you to do one thing—one fucking thing—and you almost fuck it up. If I wanted you to think I wouldn’t have told you exactly what to do.” Leo’s jaw tightens as his brother continues. “You trying to think leads to you doing dumb shit like kidnapping her fucking son—”

“I didn’t kidnap him,” Leo mumbles.

Tommy’s fingers massage his clenched fist. “You’re lucky I can’t reach across this fucking table right now.”

Leo’s gaze drops from his brothers. The look that lies in Tommy’s eyes is one he’s seen before—at least not directed at him. It’s the look that accompanied the acts that earned Tommy his nickname. Leo’s gaze nervously shifts towards Rogers who is still watching Tommy from his post.

“What do you want with her? Thinking she’s gonna give you a shot? Criminal is her type, and she’s definitely yours.”

“It’s not her I need. It’s Angel.” Tommy starts, his jaw tightening as his gaze remains on Leo. “And if you want Angel, you need her.”

“If she’s as good as you say, what do you need Angel for? You’ve been talking about her like she might actually get you off.”

Leo steals a brave glance at his brother. He watches as Tommy looks up from his tattooed knuckles.

“No matter how hard you pray, people like me and you don't come out on the right side of the law. No matter how fucking good she is, she can't get me out of this. This shit is stacked too high against me." Tommy’s gaze shifts to the clock overhead. “Did you find the necklace?”

Leo nods as Tommy stands.

“Good, go ahead and do what I asked.” Tommy pauses, his voice lowering as his gaze meets his brothers. “Nothing else, Leonardo. The time I'm looking at right now, I’ll fucking kill you right here if you pull some shit like that again.”

At some point Monday night, Angel abandoned his spot on the sofa to crawl into bed with you. His intention may have been to take one side of the bed, but to no surprise, he has failed.

You came to this revelation at two o’clock in the morning when you tried to roll over but found it to be impossible. You have been stuck on your back ever since. You attempted to fall back asleep but have not been able to.

Cheek pressed against your chest, arm wrapped around your waist, Angel hasn’t moved. He doesn’t move when your alarm goes off at 7:30 or when the knock comes on the door at 8:00.

The sleep Angel lost, the past two days over Tommy seems to have piled onto him. He only wakes when your fingers brush through his hair, the warmth of your touch lingering against his cheek.

“You have to get up and eat something.”

“I’m not hungry.” Angel mumbles. The sunlight peeking through the curtains prompts him to burrow his face against your neck. “I’m tired.”

“Yeah, I can tell,” you smile softly. “But, I’m hungry, and I can’t get our food with you laying on top of me.”

Your words are met with a huff before Angel rolls over. Resting on his back, he watches the fan spin as you get out of bed.

His first instinct is to check his phone. He pushes himself up, his body protesting with the sudden movement, once he realizes his cellphone is not where he left it.

“Where’s my phone?”

His palms pressed against his eyes as he pushes away the enticing thought of laying back down for a few more hours of sleep.

“It kept going off,” you look up from the plate in your hand. “Ezekiel kept texting you.”

“What did he want?”

Angel watches you shrug. “I don’t know. I put it in the drawer. I tried to wake you up, but you were literally dead.”

Angel releases a sigh of relief before reaching over to open the bedside drawer. Facedown, his phone has several notifications. He ignores the rest, focusing on those from his younger brother.

2:30 a.m. 📲 : You still up?

2:35 a.m. 📲 : Talked to Bishop. Found out what the shipment was

3:00 a.m. 📲 : Pretty sure I found something else

3:02 a.m. 📲 : Don’t know if this is the guy. If it is we might have a problem

3:03 a.m. 📲: Found this in the paper

3:04 a.m. 📲 : Check it out and call me back.

The last incoming message was a photo, the front page of the Daily Imperial Gazette. Angel scans the article as you climb back into bed. A few phrases stick as he reads, “Man charged in Santo Padre murder…” “Thomas Flores, 30, has been charged…” “...obtained representation from Lorente & Rothman…” “...Friday, Flores was denied bond…”

“I have to tell you something.”

Angel instinctively hits the power button on his phone. Glancing up, he realizes you haven’t even bothered to look up at him. Your focus is on the half-eaten croissant in your hand.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong,” you explain as you take another bite of your croissant. “The case Samuel gave me—the one Aiden is helping me with—it’s for this guy. His name’s Tommy Flores. He has some pretty...intense charges, so you’re probably going to hear people talking about it soon. We had court Friday, and the judge...he’s pretty tough. He denied any form of a bond, he didn’t even bother trying to set a ridiculously high one.”

You glance up to find Angel’s eyes on you. His unreadable expression causes your brow to furrow. You mistake the look in his eyes as uncertainty.

“I honestly don’t think it’s anything you have to worry about.” Offering him a smile, you lightly roll your eyes. “But I’m going to have to start working late when we get back, so I need to know that what happened Friday won’t happen again.”

You wait for Angel’s response, but it doesn’t come.

“If I take over morning drop-offs, can I count on you to pick Jeyson up after school?” You continue. “Or, do I have to ask Isabela to do it...Angel?”

Angel blinks as your fingers snap.

“Are you listening to me?” The irritation he finds as his focus shifts to you causes him to nod.

Angel nods a second time as he takes in the look of skepticism on your face.

“Yeah, I’m listening.”

“So, you’re good with picking Jeyson up from school?” You clarify. “Every day of the week?”

Angel unlocks his phone, nodding for the third time. “Yeah. I’ll pick him up.”

“And if you can’t,” you reach forward. You catch Angel's chin forcing him to look at you. “You call and let me know the moment you find out?”

Nodding, Angel drops his eyes the second your gaze meets his. “I gotta call Ez.”

Despite his admission, your hand doesn’t drop preventing him from getting up. For a moment, Angel thinks you’ll let it go. For once, you will ignore the feeling you get each time you notice a change in him. It is something no one else in his life can seem to do. It is something you’ve been able to do your entire life. It is something Angel wishes you couldn’t do.

“What’s wrong?”

Angel shakes his head as you release him. He keeps his eyes trained on the plate in your lap avoiding your gaze as your touch brushes through his hair. It's a habit. Angel knows the moment he meets your gaze he’ll tell you whatever is on his mind. It’s impossible not to do when he knows you can read him best that way. He picks up what’s left of your croissant and takes a bite.

You sit your plate aside before closing the distance between the two of you. Angel’s eyes lift to meet yours as you settle on his lap. The warmth of your palms finds his cheeks as you take his face in your hands.

“I’ve known you nearly my entire life, Angel. I know you don’t believe it, but I can tell when you’re lying to me. Just like I can tell when you’re upset and anxious. And when you’re going to annoy me.” The soft smile on your lips brings a weak one to his. “There’s no point in trying to act like I don’t. What’s wrong?”

“You were right about Friday night. I wasn’t with Samuel. I wasn’t even in Santo Padre.” Angel lets out a deep breath. His voice low as your fingers toys with the hair at the nape of his neck. “Ez and I were in Mexico. I left when you were in court. I knew we weren’t going to make it back in time, but I didn’t want to have to tell you because I knew you’d be pissed.”

“What happened to your hand?”

He watches you lift it. Your finger traces the bandage.

“Cut it on a shovel.”

Your gaze lifts to find his focus on the path your finger traces.

“...okay.”

Angel shook his head. “It’s not okay—I fucked up. Forreal this time—“

"What? On Friday?” You let out a deep breath. “Angel, I know I freaked out. Missing the recital—yeah, it was fucked up—but it is not the worse thing you’ve done.”

“I don’t know what I’ve done to deserve that.” Your eyes watch him release a tired laugh, his gaze down. "You defend me, even when you shouldn’t.”

It is true. Defending Angel has been second nature your entire life. Often you do it in response to others. But also in response to him. When you were teenagers, you learned a valuable lesson about him. Angel is his worst critic. He’ll talk himself down harsher than anyone, even those who hate him.

“It’s because I love you.” Your arms wrap around his neck pulling him into a hug. “Just because we fight and say stupid things to each other doesn’t mean that I don’t love you, Angel. If I haven’t been able to stop doing that our entire time together, I don’t know why you think a fight in a therapy session is going to be the final straw. Me not talking to you is just the easiest way for me not to say something I’ll regret later.”

Angel’s grip tightens around you as your lips press against his skin.

“At this point, there isn’t anything you can do or say that’s going to make me stop loving you.” The reassurance in your voice lifts his gaze to yours. “Okay?”

Your lips press against his in a soft kiss. You leave a second against his forehead before getting up.

“I have to take a shower,” you announce as Angel’s arm wraps around your waist guiding your body back towards his. Your fingers drift into his hair as his head rests against you. “There’s more food you should eat before we go out.”

The two of you stay that way for nearly a minute. Angel releases you as the sound of your ringing phone fills the air.

Silence from Angel Reyes is a bad sign. Such a rarity, it wrings your stomach into knots. It has been hours since you woke to find him sleeping against you. Angel has said just as little as he did in the morning. When you stepped out of the shower, you found him fully dressed and brushing his teeth.

You glance over your shoulder to find he’s standing where you last left him. Arms crossed over his chest Angel rests against the wall as far from the line as possible. With his sunglasses on, you can’t tell where he’s looking. The corner of his lips turns up into a small smile as you come to a stop before him.

“Who knew smoothies took forever to make,” he sighs as your arms wrap around his waist.

Resting your cheek against Angel's chest, you tighten your grip. You listen to the steady rhythm of his heart as his lips press against your hair.

“I want you to come somewhere with me tonight.”

“No,” Angel chuckles. You tip your head back, pouting as his gaze drops to yours.

He shakes his head as your weight shifts to your toes.

“Please,” you ask, your lips pressing a kiss against his.

“Last time I did that, you ripped me to shreds,” he laughs. “I haven’t even had time to recover from that.”

“It’ll be fun,” you promise. The second kiss you leave morphs Angel's smile into a grin. You leave a third, this one against his cheek. “I promise.”

Angel releases a long breath as you take a step back, a grin on your face.

“It better be,” he shakes his head as you quickly press a final kiss against his lips before turning to retrieve your order.

As you reach the corner, your cell phone vibrates in your back pocket. You don’t bother checking who it is. Aiden has called you three times. You had sent him a text message in response to his first three calls. Telling him to ask Isabela for help on whatever he needed.

The moment the call goes to voicemail, the vibration picks back up.

You force yourself to take a breath as Angel leads you outside.

“Hi, Aiden--”

“I know this week is supposed to be for you and Angel,” Aiden's voice comes out in a rushed whisper. “But, I need your help.”

“Where are you?” You ask as you take a sip of your smoothie. “And, why are you whispering?”

“I’m at the courthouse,” Aiden sighs. “I’ve been here all morning, and they’re giving me the run-around.”

“About what?”

“The Warden called the office this morning. You weren’t there, so I answered your desk phone. He didn’t give me many details, just that Flores was detained last night. They couldn't get him to say anything—to no surprise—but one of the guards said he was involved in an altercation with another inmate. Apparently, Tommy messed him up pretty bad—like...transported to the local hospital bad.”

Angel glances over at you as you slip out of his grip. You take a seat at the table he stops alongside.

In the short time, you’ve worked with Aiden, you’ve learned one thing. The moment he thinks there is something to panic about, Aiden will panic. So, if you sound stressed it kicks off his panicking.

Resting your face in your hand, you speak quietly. “So, he wasn't transferred on Friday as I'd requested? If he was he couldn't have gotten in a fight.”

“I know. Apparently this isn't the first one he's been in. The Warden said he looks like he’s been roughed up in the past few days. I’ve been here since first thing this morning—”

“Let me guess.” You rest back against your seat. “They told you there’s nothing they can do, with the prison being at full capacity they don’t have a cell for him?”

A brief silence falls over the receiver. Aiden’s brow furrows.

“Yeah—how'd you know?”

“That’s because it’s bullshit,” you pinch the bridge of your nose. “Judge Miller was hoping you’d leave and not press the issue.”

“Shit,” Aiden mumbles. “Shit, should I call Samuel—”

“God no. Aiden, I’ll tell you what to do, and say, just relax.”

“I lied to you.”

Angel glances down at you as your lips press against his knuckles. “About what?”

“About wanting to wait to get married.”

Your admission leaves Angel quiet. He opens his mouth to speak, but it closes as you place a second kiss against his skin.

You tilt your head back to find his eyes focused on the water.

“I was talking to Izzy the other day—not about getting married—but about you and...I mean...we’re trying to have another kid.” You backtrack as his gaze drifts to you. “That’s not the only reason, but I don’t want to spend another seven years playing house with you, Angel. I have tried so hard to find reasons why we should just leave each other in the past, but it’s impossible. I can’t help thinking that we’ve wasted so much time trying to fight it we should just get married.”

If he is excited by your words, Angel doesn’t show it. If he’s anxious by your words Angel doesn’t show it. The only response he gives is the furrowing of his brow as his pace slows before coming to a complete stop.

“I thought you’d be...a little happier,” you admit. The butterflies in your stomach seem to double in size as Angel's gaze focuses on your interlaced fingers.

“Right now?” Angel gently squeezes your hand, the smile slowly spreading across his lips causing you to shake your head. “A fancy place like this I’m pretty sure we could find someone to do it tonight.”

“Preferably with your son there,” you giggle as his lips press against your forehead.

“Just so you know,” Angel mumbles as he leaves a kiss against your lips. “You can’t take it back.”

“It’d be pointless,” you admit, your eyes focused on the incoming tide. “Regardless of what I say, you’re impossible to escape.”

“Like you said, it must be fate,” he teases as you step back towards the security of the shore.

“I didn’t say fate. I said I was tired of trying to outrun you.”

Angel’s eyes roll. “Okay.”

Pushing against his chest, you cause him to stumble backward making it impossible for him to avoid the incoming tide.

“Fuck—”

Angel’s scream is drowned out by the sound of your laughter. He tries to escape the chilled water but realizes it’s pointless as a second wave rolls through.

“Is it cold?” You ask the grin on your face prompting him to take a step in your direction. “Because it looked like it was cold.” The look on his face causes your laughter to return.

“You’re about to find out how cold it is.” The promise in his voice causes you to take a step back.

You catch sight of Angel’s smile before you take off running.

Between the giggles that leave you breathless and the sand between your feet, you don’t get very far before Angel’s arms wrap around you.

“I’m sorry, okay. Let me go, please?” Angel’s grip loosens as you turn to face him. “I really am sorry.”

A gasp escapes your lips as your feet leave the ground. Blood rushes to your head as Angel tosses you over your shoulder. It only takes a second for you to realize he’s turned and is carrying you back towards the water.

“Angel Ignacio Reyes put me down now!”

“Be careful what you wish for, baby girl,” Angel chuckles as he carries you into the water.

It doesn’t matter that you’re both fully clothed Angel carries you out until the water is waist-deep. He comes to a stop. Shifting you in his arms, he grins as your arms instantly wrap around his neck.

“You think this is far enough?” He asks as you take in your surroundings.

“I hate you,” you giggle as you meet his playful gaze.

“I could go further out,” he takes a step forward.

“Just do it.”

Judging by the mischievous grin on his lips, you expect him to drop you in. For whatever reason, Angel spares you a dunking. Instead, he carefully lowers you to your feet.

The chill of the water causes your grip to tighten around him. He waits until you’re standing to let go of you.

You can’t suppress the smile that finds your lips as he kisses you.

“You’re lucky you buttered me up beforehand,” he chuckles as you step around him.

He follows you back to shore watching as you glance down the beach, back towards the lights of the hotel. Your pace slows as you start in the direction of the hotel.

“You okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.” Despite the nod of reassurance, you force yourself to take another breath. You shake your head slightly, a tiny smile finding your lips. It takes a third breath for the feeling to pass. “I just—got lightheaded for a second.”

“Uh-huh. Funny how you get ‘lightheaded’ the second I take my shirt off. I don’t know why you still try and play this game at this point.”

Your eyes open in time to allow you the moment you need to react. Catching the shirt tossed your way, you watch Angel unzip his jeans.

"Angel put your shirt back on–I’m serious.” The warning in your voice stretches the smile on Angel’s lips. Your eyes leave him, long enough to drift back to the glow of the hotel’s lanterns still visible. The laughter and music cause you to step in his direction. “You are not getting naked on the beach! Are you trying to get us kicked out of here—”

“I wasn’t planning on going in naked,” Angel laughs. It is an admission of truth, but the sight of your panicked gaze causes a mischievous grin to take over his features. “But, I’m down to if you are—“

“No—"

“You know what?” Angel nods as he tugs his foot out of his jeans. “Your plan is better.”

“Angel—“

There’s no point throwing in a protest. Angel has fully stripped down to his briefs.

You step forward as he moves to push them down.

“I am serious, Angel. Do not do it.”

He rolls his neck before letting out a loud, and exaggerated, “fine.”

“But the only way that’s coming back on,” he nods towards the shirt in your hands before taking a step back. “You gotta join me.”

“I’m not doing this.”

Angel shoots you a look of skepticism as he takes another step towards the water.

“You’re already wet,” he chuckles. “Might as well get in.”

You remain where you are as Angel turns and makes his way into the water.

He waits until he’s waist-deep to start swimming out. He disappears out of sight as you drop his shirt to the ground. Stepping out of your flip-flops, you roll your eyes as you watch him resurface under the moonlight.

“Hurry up!” Even with the distance between the two of you, you can see Angel’s grin in your mind perfectly.

Despite your initial protest, you stay in the water for nearly an hour. Angel stands alongside you. His right-hand rests against your spine, his left interlaced with yours as your float. He watches you, his eyes admiring the moonlight against your skin as you focus on the stars above.

“I can’t remember the last time I looked at these,” you admit.

He smiles as your eyes drift shut. “Mom used to freak every time she caught us sneaking onto the roof to look at them.”

“That’s because you fell off one time. Nearly gave her a heart attack.”

“Wouldn’t have been the first time.”

You bite back a smile as Angel’s lips lightly brush against yours. They drift to the bridge of your nose as you release a soft giggle.

“Speaking of mom’s, yours came by last week.” Angel watches as the smile on your face slowly fades. “You were at work. I was taking Jeyson to school. She said she’s been calling you.”

“I wouldn’t know,” you admit. “She’s blocked.”

“I was thinking...since we’re heading back a day early, we should stop by your mom’s on the way back–”

“No.”

Angel releases a deep breath. He wasn’t naive to think you would jump at the idea. But, since seeing her, Angel couldn’t get the thought out of his mind.

“I know ya’ll don’t get along, but my mom’s not here to see Jeyson grow up. I think he should be able to know the grandparents he has left.”

“I get that, but I’m not doing it.”

Your eyes remain closed as you concentrate on the waves gently pushing against your skin.

Angel doesn’t say anything else on the subject. He knows your response will stay the same. It has for the past nine years. He also doesn’t say anything else because he knows he’s the reason you won’t budge.

The hatred your mother has for Angel may be misplaced, but she is too stubborn to admit it. She has always blamed Angel for many of your actions, starting when you were kids. Anytime you didn’t go through with what she had planned for you, Angel was to blame. You missed curfew in high school Angel was to blame. You skipped school on your birthday Angel was to blame. You didn’t attend the college she spent her entire life preparing you for Angel was to blame. You got pregnant out of wedlock Angel was to blame.

It had all came to a head at your baby shower. Angel wasn’t there, but it was the first time he’d ever seen his mother truly angry. Sure, Marisol had gotten mad at Angel countless times. But seeing how mad Marisol was as she recounted the fight she had witnessed between you and your mother, Angel was shocked.

He never asked what words were exchanged, and he didn’t have to. All he knew was that from that moment forward, everyone avoided the subject of your mother.

“I get what you’re saying, Angel,” you sigh. “But, if my mom truly wanted to get to know Jeyson she would apologize. I can’t bring our son around someone that has said the things she’s said about you. If she can say them about you, she can say them about him because Jeyson is your son.”

“Shit, I really look as bad as I feel?”

The smile on Tommy’s face grows as you look up. The heat covering your skin seems to rise as you start to speak.

“No—” You wince. “I’m sorry for staring—it’s rude.”

“It’s all good,” Tommy chuckles as he watches your eyes leave his.

He watches as you bite your lip. Whatever is on your mind, you don’t share it. Instead, your eyes linger on the bruise beneath his right eye. You’ve seen enough damage on Angel to know how bad it must have looked a few days prior.

“Hey, relax.” Tommy shifts forward in his seat, the sound of his shackles dragging across the table causing your attention to refocus. He meets your gaze. “The Doc cleared me—gave me my two Advil and sent me back to my cell. I think it’s safe to say I’m not gonna die.”

Despite the smile on his face, your head still shakes.

“Yeah, but I still feel bad that it happened. I was supposed to double-check the clearance of your paperwork.”

“Trust me, it’s not your fault,” Tommy chuckles. He watches your eyes drop to his freshly bruised knuckles. “It’s mine. The funny thing about this place is, you always run into people from your past. My mom used to said I never knew when to stop talking. I might have said the wrong thing at the wrong time.”

You watch as Tommy’s eyes briefly drift over your shoulder to where Rogers sits in the corner. His smile returns as his gaze drifts back to you.

“So, I take it you had fun.” He notes your raised brow before backtracking. “The Warden said he called your office and your boyfriend answered, said you were out of town.”

Your eyes roll. “Hey, go easy on my boyfriend. He’s the one who went to the courthouse. From what I hear, he slammed Judge Miller hard because your paperwork has been approved.”

You take in Tommy’s skepticism. You slide the signed form across the table, allowing him a better view.

“Signed by the Warden as well,” you point out. “Thanks to Aiden as soon as we’re done here, you’re being moved out of the unit.”

“No shit?” Tommy chuckles. He nods in approval as he scans the form. “I’ll be sure to thank Aiden when I see him. Guess you were right. He’s got some balls after all...Look, I know I’m not the easiest client….so um….Thanks for pushing for this. Making sure everything was straight. Most people would’ve just left me where I was.”

“Yeah, well I can’t have you die before I get fully paid.”

The laugh Tommy releases brings a smile to your lips. He settles back against his chair as you pick up your pen.

"I need you to understand that this new assignment may not be your favorite," you explain. "You're being moved to a new unit, but I can't get you moved again. That means, you can't do anything else, Tommy. Do you understand me?"

Tommy nods. He looks up as your hand finds his.

"This," your lift his hand forcing him to take in his swollen knuckles. "The shit you pulled. You're lucky they didn't throw you in AdSeg. That's 23 hours in your cell. No phone calls, no visits. Nothing. The only reason they didn't throw you in there is because they messed up, and didn't want Aiden to draw a motion against the judge. I don't care what you have to do, but you better learn to walk away from a fight. Now."

"I know." Tommy sighs as you let him go.

“Then do it. My job is already hard enough as it is. I can't have you trying to kill someone while you're already here for murder. Plus, the judge is pissed because of the paperwork Aiden had to file. That's not good for either of us. So, that means I need your help.”

His brow raises, the corners of his lips turning up into a smirk. “I thought I was supposed to be the one asking for help.”

“True, but help is a two-way street.”

Tommy hesitates for a moment. His eyes drop to his knuckles as he lets off a light shrug.

“What do you need?”

“For you to tell me why you were meeting with Alexander Maddox the night you were arrested.”

Tommy’s smile fades quicker than it came. His jaw tightens as he shakes his head.

You sit forward resting your elbows on the table.

“Tommy, if it’s about the MC.” Tommy’s eyes lift for a brief second. Long enough for you to catch a glimpse of the shock in his eyes. You lower your voice. “I know you’re with the Horsemen—”

Tommy shakes his head. “Look—I get you got a job to do, but—there’s just shit with the MC I can’t talk about—”

“I know how this stuff works—”

“Got a lot of personal experience with an MC?” Tommy asks.

His question causes you to release a deep breath.

“If you don’t want to tell me anything, fine. But when it comes down to it, Tommy. People will cut you off to save themselves.” The irritation in your voice lifts his gaze. “That shipment you were carrying, was not a dime bag. Your brothers will let you go down for this. Hard. They will let you rot in here for the rest of your fucking life if it means avoiding a R.I.C.O. case.”

Tommy’s brow furrows. “What’s a R.I.C.O.?”

His question throws you off. The pure confusion on his face causes you to backtrack.

“You seriously don’t know what that is?”

“I mean—I’ve heard of it...how do you know what it is?”

“It’s what you pay me for,” you remind him.

“Then I guess I’m paying you to explain it to me.”

The moment you step outside of the elevator, you come face to face with a wide-eyed Isabela.

“Is your phone dead?” She asks the irritation in her voice causing your brow to arch.

“Off—I had a client meeting with Tommy. I thought I told you—”

Isabela ignores your response, her eyes focused in the direction of your office. “Yeah, whatever. I’ve been calling you for the last freaking hour—”

“Sorry—ow.” You wince as Isabela catches your arm. She pulls you to a stop. “What?”

She releases her grip, but she sidesteps. Blocking your path, Isabela places both hands on your shoulders. She ignores the look of confusion on your face, her gaze studying yours.

“How are you?”

Her question causes you to hesitate. “...Fine...why?”

Isabela takes another moment to study your eyes as if she doesn’t fully believe you before nodding.

“Just so you know,” she sighs as she takes a step back. “I did not let her in. Aiden did. He didn’t know any better—bless his heart—”

“What are you talking about?”

“Your mother.” Isabela winces at the look on your face. “She’s in your office. Promise me you won’t make a scene.”

“It’s never me you have to worry about,” you mumble.

When you enter your office, you find your mother is not where Aiden asked her to sit and wait for you.

She is standing behind your desk studying a photo that she holds in her hands.

“Put it back.”

She jumps at the sound of your voice, her body turning so that she faces you.

“Put it back, please.”

Her eyes return to the photo of Angel seated on his bike. A grinning Jeyson is seated in front of him, clinging to the handlebars.

“He looks so much like his father.”

You cross the room. Taking the photo, you place it back in its original resting place before dropping your purse onto your desk.

“What do you want?” You ask as you watch step around your desk.

“Is that a way to greet your mother?”

“According to the last time we spoke, I don’t have one.” You recollect as you take a seat. “It’s been...nearly nine years, so my memory might be a little hazy, but I’m pretty sure that’s what you told me.” Your brow furrows as she moves to take the seat across from you. “There’s no need for you to sit. This conversation won’t last long. I have a meeting in a few minutes. What do you want?”

Your mother’s jaw tightens as she remains standing. Her eyes roll as she speaks. “I take it he didn’t pass along my message.”

“He did pass along your message, actually,” you admit. “Believe it or not, Angel said I should call you and listen to what you had to say. I just chose to do what I’ve done for the past nine years—ignore it. If you’re not going to answer my question, mom, then you can leave.”

“Your father and I want to see our grandson—”

“No.”

She expects more, but your attention has already moved on to the papers you’ve dropped onto your desk.

“See, I told you the conversation wouldn’t last long.”

“Y/N,” your mother objects. “It’s been nearly nine years.”

Your fingers interlaced as you force yourself to take a deep breath. You surprise even yourself as your voice comes out quiet and calm.

“I told you before. I do not want you near my son, and I meant it. I don’t care what excuse you’ve come here to give today. I’m not changing my mind. Your only hope is to speak with his father, and hope he’s more forgiving than I am.”

Aiden stops in the doorway, his eyes widening as he reads the room. He takes a step back but pauses as you give him a warm smile.

“Hi, Aiden! Please tell me you haven’t eaten lunch yet.”

“No,” Aiden clears his throat. His eyes briefly pass to your mother whose gaze remains on you. “I haven’t.”

“Good. Can you order two of whatever you’re having? I’ll pay. We have to go ahead and look over this case.”

Aiden nods as you add, “great. Can you also escort my mother downstairs? She’s ready to leave.”

“I’m sorry for ruining your retreat.”

Aiden’s apology breaks your concentration.

Seated on the floor of your office, Aiden has his back pressed against your desk. His usually polished appearance is disheveled. His sleeves are rolled up to his elbows, the top buttons of his shirt undone. His tie and jacket are discarded on the back of your chair.

His apology is one he has been working himself up to share for the last three hours. Each time he thought of sharing it, he’s backed out. At this point, he’s run out of pointless conversation and has reached the bottom of your takeout container that he took over.

“What are you talking about?”

Aiden’s eyes remain on the chopsticks in his hand.

“Isabela told me not to call you about Tommy,” he clears his throat. He steals a glance in your direction. “She said it should wait until you got back—but as usual—I panicked and called you. Now you’re back early--”

“Aiden, you didn’t ruin my retreat,” you sigh. Your palms rub against your tired eyes. “It was rocky was to begin with.”

The admission silences the office. Aiden nods before opening his mouth.

“So,” you smile as you lightly bump his shoulder with yours. “Please, don’t worry about it. Angel was probably happy you called so he could leave.”

Your gaze returns to the slow-paced printer. Upon learning you were coming home early, Aiden had sent you a text message.

📲: I have some stuff to show you about Tommy.

And by “some stuff” Aiden meant a board. He had stolen one of Samuel’s whiteboards from the conference room. The entire surface is covered in your notes and information from Tommy’s files.

“I can’t believe you did all this while I was gone,” you stare at the board. “Your girlfriend might think you’re spending too much time on me.”

Aiden’s smile is sheepish. “If I had one, I wouldn’t have had time to do this.”

“Well, remind me to find you one because this is amazing.” The tease causes Aiden’s smile to grow. “I’m serious, Aiden. I can’t believe you thought you couldn’t be any help.”

“I didn’t really do anything,” he shrugs, his gaze focused on the paper in his hand. “They’re all your notes, I just organized them.”

His eyes widen, a grin finding his lips as your arms wrap around his neck.

“Call it whatever you want,” you smile. “But I still get to say thank you.”

“It’s not a big deal,” he rubs the back of his neck before glancing over at you. “We’re a team….speaking of...I found this.”

The picture he lifts is not new. It is one you’ve seen before. Your brow furrows as you take in the pregnant woman on display.

“I already know who that is,” you admit. “It’s the girlfriend of—”

“Alexander Maddox.” Aiden nods. “Right. I kept going back to your notes. You had one question. Why was Tommy meeting with Maddox in the first place?”

Your head shakes the confusion on your face prompting the rolling of Aiden’s eyes.

“How is this the answer?”

“You were asking the wrong question.” A mischievous grin slides onto his face as Aiden realizes you’re still not following his train of thought. “I can’t believe I figured something out before you—”

“Oh my goodness, Aiden—”

“When he was arrested, Tommy was carrying a shipment--”

“Yeah, something he shouldn’t have been doing by himself.”

Aiden’s brow arches. “You got a history of drug trafficking I don’t know about?”

“You’d be surprised what you pick up on this job.”

Aiden shakes his head as you motion for him to continue.

“While I was working, I kept thinking back to our conversation at the courthouse,” Aiden continues. “You said Tommy’s smart—"

“He uses people to get what he wants.”

“Exactly,” Aiden grins. He lifts the picture in his hand. “Why would Maddox meet up with someone from a rival club, in the middle of the night, with his pregnant girlfriend in tow if he was threatened by them?”

Aiden doesn’t bother answering the question. Instead, he waits for you to make the connection. The smile on his face remains as your eyes widen.

“Because he was there to make a deal.”

“Exactly!” Despite the smile on your face, Aiden’s face dampens. “...but that’s as far as I got. I don’t really know what made Tommy kill him—”

“Of course you do, Aiden.” Despite your reassurance and the confidence in your voice, Aiden’s expression hasn’t changed. “Your brain just needs a second to catch up. Maddox didn’t keep up his end of the deal. He probably tried to screw Tommy over. Not realizing that Tommy would kill him, girlfriend in tow.”

"Well, now we know why Tommy's been tight-lipped about that night. Probably doesn't want it to get out that he was skimming from the club's business."

The hug you give him brings the same response as before.

“I should help you out more often.” Aiden chuckles as you give him a squeeze.

“Careful,” you tease. “Angel’s not too fond of sharing.”

“Speaking of Angel…” Aiden’s gaze meets yours. “I know you asked me not to say anything to him about Samuel—”

“It’s okay.”

Aiden nods, but he continues. His rambling brings a soft smile to your lips.

“Yeah, but I just...I didn’t want you to think I was okay with what Samuel did.” His words come out quietly as he shakes his head. “The way he talked to you...it wasn’t right. You work harder than anyone here—including him—and for Samuel to do that was fucked up. I didn’t say anything in the meeting, and I should have. So, I just...I told Angel when he asked about it.”

“He would have found out eventually,” you laugh softly. “Besides, now Angel likes you.”

“For real?” The smile on Aiden’s face stretches into a grin as you nod.

A silence falls over the office as Aiden’s head rests against the desk. His brow furrows as your eyes fall to your hands. There is a final question on his mind. One he’s tried to find a way to raise since he started flipping through your notes on Saturday morning.

“Are you pregnant?”

The question lifts your gaze.

Aiden reaches into the pocket of his shirt. Your eyes widen as you take in the white card he produces. It is a card you spent the entire morning trying to find. The scheduled appointment one you have yet to share with Angel.

“It was in the notebook you turned over for me and Samuel to review,” Aiden explains as he passes the card over. “Don’t worry. I saw it before he did...I figured he was the last person you wanted to know.”

Your eyes focus on the date. A week and a half away. The initial scheduling may have been premature, but you couldn’t shake the feeling Angel was right.

“Uh...no—I mean, it’s too early to tell.” You turn the card over before looking up. “I should know by this date, so can you not tell anyone about this? I haven’t even told Izzy...or Angel for that matter. I don’t want to say anything until I’m a hundred percent sure.”

Aiden nods, a soft smile on his lips. “Of course.”

“Thanks.” You allow your head to rest back against the desk. “I don’t want to get Angel’s hopes up too early.”

It was the only thought you’ve had from the moment you woke up alongside Angel that moment. But as you glance back at the card in your hand, you know the truth has nothing to do with Angel. It’s not his hopes that you’re afraid of letting down.

You place the card aside, pulling your knees to your chest. Your gaze drifts to the board before you. The two of you sit in silence, eyes focused on your work. Silently willing your brains to come up with one more revelation before packing it up for the night.

"Alright," Aiden huffs. "I think we've gotten as far as we can get tonight."

HIs brow furrows, a chuckle filling the air as he fingers brush against your arm.

"Didn't take you for a tattoo person."

You glance over at him, following his gaze to the ink on your arm.

"Yeah, well, you've never been dragged to a tattoo parlor with Angel," you laugh. "Now, I try to avoid them at all cost."

"It's pretty cool," he grins, his eyes lingering on the design. "He has one too? Matching?"

"Yep," your eyes roll lightly. "Please don't tease me about teenage decisions."

"I won't," he chuckles. Aiden sits forward, lightly patting your leg before moving to collect the trash.

“Aiden?”

“Huh?” He glances up from the takeout containers in his hands.

“How long was he in Chino?”

“Tommy...uh, hold on.” Balancing the containers in his left, Aiden quickly rifles through the stacks of papers spread across the floor before him. “Says here...he was in Chino for....30 months.”

“Any way we can figure out where he was housed?”

“I don’t know,” Aiden admits as his eyes scan the wrap sheet. “His charges were nothing compared to now. Petty crime, so he wasn’t housed at maximum. Why?”

Once his question is met with silence, Aiden glances over his shoulder at you.

“What’s wrong?” The concern in his eyes slowly morphs to fear as he takes in your expression. “Did I miss something?”

“No, I did.”

“What do you mean?”

Before he can pose the question, you’re already pushing yourself to your feet.

“Go home, okay? It’s getting late—don’t worry about the mess. I’ll clean it up in the morning.”

Although you’ve managed to mask your expression, the trembling of your hands causes Aiden’s brow to furrow.

“You sure?” He objects. He quickly stands, stopping you from grabbing your keys from your desk. “I can send an email about his placement in Chino—”

“No.” Your response comes out more panicked than you want. You quickly backtrack. The reassuring smile you give Aiden not holding the weight it’s meant to. “I’ll do it in the morning. I have to go see Angel.”

“Okay.” Aiden nods. He passes over the sheet watching as you excuse yourself.

Jeyson Reyes sits at the table in the center of the clubhouse, his math homework abandoned. His attention is devoted to the bowl of skittles in front of him. He has spent that past minute carefully picking out his least favorite skittles—the yellow.

“Word on the street is you got a birthday coming up,” Angel accepts another yellow skittle before popping it in his mouth. Jeyson’s eyes widen as he briefly pauses the task at hand. Angel’s brow furrows as his eyes study his son’s face. “How old are you turning again? Five—”

“Nine!”

“Nine? Nah--that can’t be right.” Angel shakes his head as he takes in Jeyson’s broad grin. “I don’t believe you—”

“Uh-huh,” Jeyson nods, dropping another skittle into his father’s palm. “I turn nine in seventeen days.”

“Shit—”

“That’s another dollar in the swear jar,” Jeyson reminds him as he passes Angel another skittle.

“I know,” Angel chuckles. He rests back against his seat, his eyes lingering on your son as he quietly admits. “I can’t believe you’re that old.”

Jeyson’s nose scrunches. “I’m not old.”

“Yeah, you are,” Angel laughs, his hand brushing against Jeyson’s hair. “You’re almost an adult.”

“I’m still a kid,” Jeyson giggles as his eyes lift to meet his father’s. “You’re old—”

“Hey—I am not old,” Angel retorts, the feigned look of offense causing your son’s giggles to increase.

Jeyson reaches over pointing towards the beard Angel’s hand passes over. “You have gray hair—lots of it.”

His father’s gaze narrows as Jeyson’s grin stretches as far as his cheeks will allow. As if to soften the blow, Jeyson drops two more skittles into Angel’s palm before eating one of his own.

Angel’s smile remains as he watches Jeyson redirect his attention back to the bowl of skittles on the table.

“Have you thought about what you want for your birthday?"

Jeyson shrugs. “Not really.”

“Not really?” Angel’s brow raises. “You’re counting down to your birthday, but you don’t know what you want?”

Jeyson lets off a second shrug, his concentration on the skittles causing Angel’s brow to furrow.

“You know we’re gonna end up getting whatever it is you want,” Angel smiles as he ruffles Jeyson’s hair. “You’ve been doing everything you’re supposed to in school.”

Despite Angel’s words, Jeyson’s gaze remains down. He chews on the inside of his cheek. The action causes his father to slide the bowl of skittles aside.

“What’s up? You don't think you can get what you want?”

Nearly a minute passes before Jeyson answers Angel’s question. His voice comes out quietly.

“I want you to stay at home.”

Angel’s brow furrows. The response is not what he’s anticipating. “I am staying at home.”

“My home, not yours.” Jeyson clarifies. “Where mom and I live.”

“That is where I’m staying.”

“You didn’t Friday. Is it because you don’t like living with us?” He asks quietly

Angel’s eyes drift shut, the tightening of his throat causing him to shake his head.

“Your mom and I—” Angel’s voice trails off as Jeyson looks up from the table to meet his gaze.

It is a conversation neither of them has breached before. One Jeyson has found himself thinking about more and more. One Angel knew he would eventually have with his son, but he hadn’t anticipated it to be now. He had also hoped you would be around to help him.

“You having two homes has nothing to do with me not wanting to live with you—or your mom. You don’t remember it, you were too little, but your mom and I...we used to fight a lot.” Angel continues. “I wasn’t nice to her, and I made her cry a lot. So I had to leave. I didn’t want to leave you or her, but I also didn’t want to hurt you or your mom. It took me a while to learn how not to do that. Friday...I couldn’t come home because I didn’t want to fight with your mom.”

“You still made her cry.”

“I know, and I’m sorry.” Leaning over, Angel brushes his hand against Jeyson’s hair. His touch forces Jeyson’s eyes to meet his. “You know how you and your friends get mad at each other? Sometimes we get mad at the people we love because we don’t see things the same way. But your mom being mad at me has nothing to do with you. Okay? Just because your mom and I might fight, it doesn’t mean I’m leaving.”

The soft smile Angel offers him prompts Jeyson to give him one in return.

“It doesn’t matter if I’m staying with you and your mom or at my house. I love you. That’s not ever gonna change. Never has, never will. Got it?”

Jeyson nods, his smile growing as Angel places a kiss against his skin.

As Jeyson's attention returns to the bowl of skittles, Angel reaches into his kutte. He pulls out the white envelope that he found in the mailbox upon your return home.

He studies the unfamiliar handwriting. Printed in block letters are his name and your address. His gaze passes over the generic American Flag stamp and date pressed into the right corner. The lack of a return address causes him to flip the envelope over.

Angel waits until he comes to a stop outside of the clubhouse to give the envelope a second glance. Tearing the side, he reaches inside pulling out a single index card. The handwriting matches that printed on the envelope.

An anniversary gift for the Old Lady.

Angel tips the envelope. His stomach tightens as the chill of a silver chain hits his palm. The buzzing of his phone in his kutte pocket goes ignored. He doesn’t need to unravel the chain to know who the necklace belongs to. He has looked at the necklace nearly every day since he was eighteen.

The continued vibration of his phone forces an irritated “fuck” from Angel’s lip before he pulls his phone out of his pocket.

“What?”

“This is a prepaid call from Thomas Flores, an inmate at the state correctional facility. All phone calls are subject to recording and monitoring. To decline the call, please press nine. To accept the call and all charges that will be incurred, please press one.”

Angel doesn’t remember committing the act of acceptance. A moment later, Tommy’s voice echoes through his receiver. For a man locked inside the walls of Stockton, his voice is calm and lighthearted.

“Damn, it’s been a minute since I’ve heard your voice, Reyes. Can you believe I missed it?”

“The feeling isn’t mutual,” Angel growls, his grip tightening around his phone. “How’d you get this number?”

“Come on, Reyes--give me some credit. I got it the same way I got your address,” Tommy chuckles. “I had to make sure to wish you a happy anniversary. It just passed, right? What is it six—no—seven years? Hopefully, the two of you are doing better these days—”

“Why are you calling?”

“That’s the funny thing,” Tommy sighs, the smile on his face stretches into a grin. “See, I was in my cell a few weeks back, thinking to myself—got a lot of time for that nowadays—and naturally, that led to me thinking of you. And how I missed my old cellmate. Then I remembered...you owe me a favor.”

“A favor? I don’t owe you shit--”

“That’s not how this shit works. I think the person who’s owed a debt gets to decide when it’s paid in full.” Tommy pauses, the silence from Angel’s end allowing him to continue. “Funny thing, I wouldn’t have even thought to call on you for this, but you made a simple mistake all those years ago, Angel. You talked too much...If you don’t want someone to use your Achilles, you don’t share it.” Angel’s brow furrows as Tommy’s words slowly begin to sink in. “Now, you know I’m not a religious man, but I bet you can imagine how good I felt when I realized that God, himself, dropped Y/N into my lap. What are the odds that she and I got brought together? Huh? It’d be a shame to let this God-given opportunity go to waste, don’t you think?”

“What the fuck do you want, Tommy?”

“A lot of things,” Tommy admits. “A turn with your pretty wife for starters. The way you put it, she’d do just about anything for you--”

“She’s not doing anything for you--”

“That’s okay,” Tommy chuckles. “You’ve always had my back when it came down to the wire.”

Angel’s head shakes. “No—Fuck this—I’m hanging up. I told you that night. One and done—”

“I take it you got my gift,” Tommy ignores Angel’s declaration. “And...judging by the unnecessary hostility I’m sensing in your voice, you took a trip down South recently.”

“I want what you took—”

“And you can get it back—scout’s honor.” The sincerity in Tommy’s voice would fool a stranger, but not Angel. “After you help me out one last time. For old times sake.”

“I’m not helping you do shit.”

“Damn,” Tommy sighs. “I was really hoping you wouldn’t say that.”

“And you’re gonna leave her alone. Come up with an excuse, I don’t care. You’re finding a new attorney—”

“No can do, Reyes. See, I don’t benefit by losing her.” Tommy explains. “Unless you wanna consider my proposal. Last time I’m offering. I think you’ll find my way is the easiest—for everybody involved.”

A silence falls over the line. The trembling of his hands tightening Angel’s grip on his cellphone.

“Alright, well, my time is almost up,” Tommy yawns. His eyes pass to the clock overhead. “Plus, I know it was a lot to dump on you, so I'll give you the night to mull it over. Tell your lady I said thanks for visiting me today.”

Angel’s continued silence brings a grin to Tommy’s face. His chuckle fills this receiver.

“You haven’t told her yet….Tell me, what do you think she’s gonna say when your secret gets out? Do you think she’s gonna stick around this time? If that shit gets out, you’ll be facing more than some 18-month stint in Chino, Reyes. You’ll be facing some real-time. Ask your baby brother how that shit sits with you. All it’ll take is some rumors about the location of a missing state’s witness to start swirling...evidence anonymously getting dropped into the hands of the right people...then you and I just might be sharing a cell again.”

“Trust me, you don’t want that shit to happen.”

“Maybe...maybe not...only time will tell.” Tommy sighs. The calmness of his voice is the opposite of the feeling causing Angel to force out an unsteady breath. “Do me a favor, check with your old lady on how to get on my visitation list. I think you owe me a visit, make the shit quick, Reyes. Maybe she can get them to expedite the paperwork. You got a job to do, and your clock is ticking, homie.”

There is no need for additional words to be exchanged. Tommy hangs up, leaving Angel standing at the end of the driveway. No matter how hard Angel tried to resist—or tried to appear that he was—Tommy knew the hook was set the moment the call began.

When you pull into the clubhouse lot, you find Angel standing at the base of the clubhouse steps.

His eyes meet yours as you park, but he makes no move to meet you. The question is out before you can step around the front of your car.

“Do you know Tommy Flores?”

Angel’s eyes may be on you, but his mind is somewhere else.

“What?”

“Thomas Flores. He was serving time in Chino. Longer than you—thirty months—but you were there the exact same time. Did you hear about him while you were there?” Your question is met with silence. Angel blinks. His brow furrows as he watches you cross the lot. “I know it’s a random question, but Angel it’s really important. Okay?”

It’s common for people to cross paths. Chino is not a prison. It’s smaller than Stockton. Inmates flood in and out like clockwork. That's what your mind can produce in the time it takes you to come to a stop before him.

But it’s the look in Angel’s eyes that tightens your stomach.

It’s a look you’ve only seen once in your life.

Nearly two years ago. A night you hadn't revisited in quite some time.

When Angel had shown up unannounced at your house. This was nothing new.

Only this time, the pounding on your front door had woken you, Jeyson, and nearly half the neighborhood.

Your initial assumption was that he was drunk—it wouldn’t have been the first time Angel had shown up after a few beers and a shitty hookup only to find his way back to you. Begging you to let him stay the night, swearing to plead his drunken case, only to pass out against you the moment you were seated on the sofa.

Only this time—the moment you’d gotten the door open you were crushed by his weight. Angel's grip had been tight. The pressure caused you to wince as his face burrowed against your skin.

For once, you couldn't detect alcohol--just sweat and dirt. His grip had tightened as you tried to move back and take a better look at him.

You didn't get much out of him that night. The most you could get him to do was shower. Which was for the best because, by the time you'd helped him dry off, Angel's adrenaline crashed. He’d passed out in your bed a minute later.

In the morning, he didn’t produce much of an explanation.

"Sorry if I scared you last night," he'd mumbled as he headed to the door. "I know you asked me not to show up—unannounced like that but—I just wanted to see you."

“Yeah,” Angel nods. “I knew him.”

You wait for elaboration, but it doesn’t come. Instead, Angel takes a step back. He finds a seat on the steps, his left hand reaching up to rub his eyes.

“Yeah, I knew him? What the hell does that mean? You knew of him, or you kn—”

“No, I knew—I know him.” Angel releases a sigh, his fist crumpling the envelope he holds. “He was my cellmate.”

“No, he wasn't.” The response is automatic. The laugh you release echoes across the parking lot. The meaning behind Angel’s silence doesn’t fully register. Your brain is still reeling, trying to find a rational explanation to deny his statement and what it means. You shake your head. “No, he wasn’t. That is not fucking possible—“

“Cellblock D. That’s where they house all gang-affiliated inmates. They don’t give a shit if you’re an MC or not. It’s all the same.” Angel quietly explains, his eyes watching the realization begin to sink into your features. “They put you together with guys from other places, knowing you might not have a brother to watch your back if you need protection. Tommy’s cellmate had recently been discharged. So, after intake, I took the open space—“

“Angel, stop. I can’t have you telling me this,” you cut him off. The sight of your widened eyes not deferring Angel’s train of thought. “Do you know what this means for my case? Why couldn’t you just lie to me—”

“Because what I need to tell you is worse.”

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#lost one of tommy's scenes and retyped it off memory #so hopefully it's good lol #but let me know what you think? #angel reyes imagine #angel reyes x black!reader #angel reyes x reader #lover of mine

[acciotherapists]

Far From Home (Chapter 7: A New Ally)

Loki x Reader

Y/n Y/l/n never thought her past would come back to find her. After all who would look for her on Midgard? But one day in the small town of Puento Antiguo her world is turned upside down when an old friend turns up, threatening everything she has built and the people she'd fought so hard to protect. What happens when the life she left behind finally catches up with her? What happens when the old flame she thought had burned out reignites within her?

Warnings: language (sorry, Steve), eventual smut (slow burn), angst, some mentions of torture (most things won't be detailed but anything that gets a bit more specific will be warned at the beginning of the chapter)

Warnings for this chapter: Harassment but goes no further than verbal

The rest of the night was spent drinking and talking, though Selvig got much drunker than Thor and I as Midgardian alcohol didn’t have much of an affect on us. I chuckled as Thor swung Selvig over his shoulder. Jane’s trailer was just down the road so we walked rather than getting behind the wheel.

“When all this is over, someday you must come back to Asgard! Loki would be thrilled to see you!” Thor exclaimed.

“I wish I could, Thor… I wish I could.”

“Someday you could. We live for thousands of years! The people who took you will have died by then.”

“I suppose you’re right but I’d have to be sure. I couldn’t take the risk, Thor.”

“I understand,” he answered, though I could see the sadness in his eyes. “Maybe by then… I’d be able to return home.”

“You will, Thor… I’m sure of it,” I answered, placing a hand on his shoulder as we reached Jane’s trailer.

“I should probably head home, but I’ll see you tomorrow, alright?”

“Why don’t you stay? I’m sure Jane would love to get to know you.”

“I think I’ll just go home,” I chuckled. “Watching my brother try to win a girl’s affection… not something I need to see.” I made a gagging noise, causing him to laugh once again as he knocked on Jane’s door, still holding Dr. Selvig over his shoulder.

“Will I see you tomorrow?”

“Of course you will, Thor. I told you I was staying,” I answered, giving him a reassuring smile.

“Will you meet at the motor place tomorrow morning? I think I’ll make breakfast to help this one sober up,” he chuckled, gesturing to Selvig.

“You got it, Thor.”

I chuckled to myself as I walked away, hearing Thor laughing as he brought Dr. Selvig inside. My phone buzzed in my pocket and I took it out, looking at the screen.

Glad you decided to stay. You deserve a home. You know how to reach me if things change.

I smiled to myself as I returned the phone to my pocket, heading down the dark street. It wasn’t until I saw two men standing on the roof of a nearby building that I realized something was amiss. I’d been on the run long enough to know when someone is watching you. I continued walking, trying not to pay them much mind as I decided to head to Izzy’s, thinking I’d be safe there. Suddenly I felt a presence several feet behind me, following my movements down the dark street. I slowly increased my pace, trying not to make it noticeable as I headed toward the diner. From the corner of my eye I saw a third man in a suit sitting in his car. They must be from S.H.I.E.L.D, I thought to myself as I continued walking, though I couldn’t help but feel the presence behind me was entirely different and much more sinister.

“Hey, sugar. Where are you going?” a man called from behind me.

I was just one street away from Izzy’s. I can make it. At least that’s what I told myself as I picked up my pace. I heard the footsteps behind me grow closer as they picked up speed. I began running but the man quickly caught up to me, blocking my path.

“Look, man. You really don’t want to do this,” I hissed, feeling my soldier instincts kicking in. I knew there were cameras on this street as well as three men watching my every move. If I started fighting like a soldier they would start asking even more questions and I promised Thor I would stay… at least a little while longer. I couldn’t have this slimeball causing me to break my promise.

“Come on, sugar. It’s just a bit of fun,” he said, moving toward me.

“I don’t want any trouble. Just leave me alone,” I hissed, trying to diffuse the situation before it got any worse. Every sense around me became heightened as I thought of every weak spot this man had. How quickly could I get to the gun in my bag before the man would reach me? How could I take him down like a normal civilian? The smell of Izzy’s just a few minutes away filled my nose and static suddenly caught my attention.

“Alright, I can’t stand by and watch this. I’m going in,” I heard a man say as he emerged from the alley just a few feet away from us.

“Oi! Back off, man,” he hissed, standing next to me. The man took a step back, looking back and forth between me and this strange spy.

“You know her?” he growled.

“Doesn’t matter. You’ve got no business here. The lady told you to leave her alone. I suggest you back away.”

“What are you going to do about it?” the man growled. He was instantly cut off as the man next to me pulled a gun from his belt, aiming it directly at the horrified man.

“Woah, alright man! I’m sorry!” he called, backing away quickly, before turning and running down the street and out of sight. I turned to the man next to me as he returned his gun to his belt.

“Are you alright?” he asked.

“Yes, thank you,” I answered.

“What are you doing out so late?” the strange man asked as he began walking with me in the direction I was originally heading.

“I was drinking with some friends and thought I’d grab some food from Izzy’s.”

“What happened to your friends? It’s not smart to let a young woman walk around at night by herself,” he questioned.

“My friends know I can usually handle myself, though I was trying to avoid causing a scene, given the fact that there were three agents watching me,” I answered, chuckling as his eyes widened. His hand was on his gun but he made no move to take it out. It seemed to be more of an unconscious action that he’d grown so used to.

“Hey, chill,” I chuckled. “I’m no snitch.”

He gave me a confused look as he slowly lowered his hand from his gun.

“How did you know?” he asked, chuckling as he admitted defeat.

“Oh, come on. A ‘satellite’ crashes into the outskirts of town and a faceless organization builds a city around it? After which my friend is arrested in said city and magically released without anyone following him?” I chuckled as he shook his head, a small smile on his face. “Also, your agents aren’t very good at hiding,” I continued, pointing to the building where the two agents were standing, followed by the car I’d seen just minutes before.

“You’re good,” he replied as we reached Izzy’s diner. He opened the door, letting me inside. “So who exactly are you?” he asked.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” I chuckled.

“Oh, come on. You answer my questions and I’ll answer some of yours.”

“Who said I had any questions for you?” I retorted, taking a seat as Izzy placed two menus on the table.

“Why else would you still be talking to me?”

“Alright, fair enough,” I answered. “Fine. Take a seat.” I handed him a menu as he took a seat across from me.

“So, what’s good here? I’ve never been here.”

“What?! You’ve never been to Izzy’s?”

“I spend most of my time at the crash site,” he answered, taking a look at the menu.

“For shame, Mr…”

“Coulson,” he answered. “Agent Coulson.”

“For shame, agent Coulson. For shame. Izzy makes a mean cheeseburger. I highly recommend it.”

He laughed as he looked down at the menu.

“So, mysterious lady. What is your name?”

“Alex,” I answered as Izzy walked over to take our order.

It wasn’t long before we settled into a conversation, though I kept my answers vague. I was able to get some information out of him regarding the seismic activity of the satellite as well as why he was looking into Thor, or rather Donald, as he’d called him. I’d insisted on paying for the meal seeing as he’d never been to Izzy’s before. Keep your friends close, your enemies closer, and befriend those you aren’t sure of.

***

“Coulson, we’ve got some info on the girl with them,” an unfamiliar agent said into the receiver of his phone. A file sat in front of him with a woman’s face he’d never seen before this day. She’d seemed so nice and he had no reason to suspect otherwise, or so he thought.

“Alright, what’ve you got?” Coulson replied.

“Name’s Alexia Harrison. Goes by Alex. Moved here about five years ago. Most of the folks around town seem to know her and those who don’t know her directly have a friend who knows of her. She’s pretty well connected in this town.”

“Alright, and what about before she moved here? Any family?”

“That’s the thing, sir. There’s no record of her before she moved here. Her life seems to start here. Other than a few random bank statements there’s no history for her. Her life started when she moved here.”

“Keep searching,” Coulson answered, hanging up the phone as he looked down at the photos of the woman he’d just left. If these people were so dangerous why wouldn’t she have just killed him? Surely it would have been easier than allowing him to walk her to Izzy’s and buying his meal. He closed the file in front of him as he thought more about the strange events that had occurred. Who were these people? And why not just kill him when she had the chance? Especially if she knew he was an agent and appeared to be on the run. No one’s life just suddenly starts in a small town at the age of 19. At least that’s how old her ID claimed she would have been five years ago. Coulson was pulled from his thoughts as a beeping sound filled his ears.

“What the hell was that?” he called, making his way toward the beeping monitors.

“I don’t know, sir. We got massive energy readings out of nowhere and then they just disappeared. Fifteen miles due Northwest.”

“Let’s go take a look,” Coulson answered, getting into the small black car and driving toward the strange phenomena.

****

Taglist: @lokisprettygirl22 @purplekitten30 @midnights-ramblings @huntress-artemiss @thedistractedagglomeration

[duffs-shot-glass]

𝙋𝘼𝙍𝙏𝙉𝙀𝙍𝙎- 𝐒𝐚𝐮𝐥 𝐇𝐮𝐝𝐬𝐨𝐧 {𝐌𝐢𝐧𝐢 𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬}

(𝐒𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐡 𝐡𝐚𝐬 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐭 𝐘/𝐍. 𝐇𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞𝐬 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐢𝐭 𝐡𝐮𝐫𝐭𝐬 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐝𝐞𝐞𝐩 𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞. 𝐀 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐣𝐞𝐜𝐭 𝐚𝐭 𝐬𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐥 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐜𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐨𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫. 𝐖𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞 𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐞𝐬 𝐡𝐞𝐫? (𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐘/𝐍 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐒𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐡'𝐬 𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐢𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐞𝐚𝐫 𝐨𝐟 𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐡 𝐬𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐥) (𝐒𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐡 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫) *𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐟𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐛𝐞 𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐝*)

*chapter one* *chapter two* *chapter three*

𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝕱𝖔𝖚𝖗

𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝕱𝖔𝖚𝖗

(A/N… this is in the narrator’s POV.)

[night of the party]

The lipstick slid over Y/N’s lips, staining them blood red. She studied herself in the mirror checking that everything was perfect. Her phone rang causing her to slightly jump. She tiptoed to it and answered. “Hello?” She whispered, careful that no one would hear her. “We’re just down the road. You ready?” Axl’s voice echoed. “Yeah I’ll be there in a sec.” She then hung the phone up. After checking once more that the door was locked, Y/N slowly opened her window. Once the grassy ground was in sight she threw her small purse out the window and prepared herself to be next. Even though she tried, it was very apparent that heels weren’t ideal for climbing out of a window. “God damn heels!” She whisper-yelled as she took the shoes from her feet and let them join her purse on the cold ground. She was now hanging halfway out of the window when she felt the soft grass between her toes. She stumbled to her feet before closing the window. Her purse and heels were waiting for her on the ground not too far from where she stood. She grabbed the items and jogged down the road until she saw Axl’s car. The car door opened to reveal Axl in the driver's seat. “Hello miss. Did you order a taxi?” Axl asked, using a horrible British accent. “You’re such a dork.” She laughed and slid into the passenger's seat. “Hi Y/N!” Steven excitedly exclaimed from the backseat. “Hey Stevie” she responded. Izzy, who was also in the backseat, simply nodded his head in acknowledgement of Y/N’s presence. Y/N turned her attention to the road when Axl began driving. The radio was on so loud that Y/N could practically feel the bass. As the car rolled up to Duff’s house Y/N could feel her heart beating just a bit faster at the thought that soon she would be flirting with Slash.

[...]

The dimly lit room wreaked of alcohol and sex. After all, that is what it was filled with. Y/N turned her head many times to avoid seeing couples that had gone too far...at least to be in front of people. Her eyes scanned the room as she searched for the man her attention would be on tonight. Slash. As she entered the living room she finally found what she had been looking for. The curly haired man was sat on a couch in the corner of the room. Surprisingly, alone. As she sauntered towards him she couldn’t help but smile to herself. She acted as if she was a lion stalking their prey. She looked graceful, yet her intent was sinful. Slash’s eyes locked on her when she was only a few feet away. He watched how her hips swayed, hypnotizing him more with each step she took. He was snapped into reality when she sat herself next to him. She was facing him. Her elbow was perched on the back of the couch and her head lightly rested on her hand. Slash stared into her eyes, observing the beautiful orbs. Y/N laughed airily at his contentment. Slash cleared his throat and looked away from the girl. “I uh..didn’t expect to see you here.” He snarked. “Guess that goes for both of us.” She traced her finger down his arm, catching his attention immediately. “What are you doing?” he asked, confusion apparent in his voice. She ignored his comment as her finger made its way to his chest. He was wearing a black button up that was halfway unbuttoned, which she intended to use to her advantage. His eyes watched as her finger traced sloppy shapes on his skin. “Y/N seriously what are you doing?” he asked again. This time however, he didn’t sound so sure of himself. Almost like he was asking himself the question. Did he want this to happen? “Ya know Saul..” her voice was now a low, seductive whisper. She leaned into him, her hot breath fanning over his ear. “I’m not wearing any panties under this skirt.” His eyes widened at her comment as he turned to look at her. She made sure to maintain eye contact with him while he looked at her in shock. Was that a slight blush on his cheeks? No, couldn’t be...well maybe. “H-how much alcohol have you had tonight Y/N?” he stuttered. Y/N was now staring at Slash’s mouth as she licked her lips. The gap between their lips was now merely centimeters. “None.” she whispered breathlessly as her lips ghosted over his. Just as Slash attempted to close the gap between them, Duff’s voice pierced the air. “Y/N!” He yelled from the middle of the room. “See ya.” she stated simply as she made her way to Duff. Slash couldn’t help but feel aggravated. He was so close to getting what he had wanted for so many years. “Hey duffles.” Y/N giggled at his clearly drunken state. “Okay okay okay listen to this..” He slurred. “Are you a parking ticket? Because you’ve got fine written all over you.” Duff laughed at himself which caused him to hiccup. The boys were like brothers to Y/N, but when they were drunk they sometimes flirted with her. She never did anything with them though. Y/N could feel Slash’s gaze on them and it kind of excited her knowing that he couldn’t look away. “Good one Duff.” she chuckled. She stood there as she listened to the rest of the stupidly silly pick up lines he had for her. “Hey Y/N?” “Yeah?” she stared at the blond as she waited for a response. “I’m really horny do you think we could…” he trailed off. Slash’s gaze was still on the two. His jaw clenched as he watched the bassist flirt with Y/N. Rage was building within him. It felt as if he had fire coursing through his veins. Though, what he wanted to do with that rage was different from anything he felt before. He didn’t want to yell at Duff or cuss him out. As ridiculous as it sounded he wanted to fuck her. It seemed as though his rage fueled something inside him. Something that would make Y/N forget all about Duff. Almost as if it was instinct, he stood up and began walking towards Y/N. “Duff, listen you’re drunk and-” she was cut off when Saul grabbed her arm and began dragging her with him. “Slash? What are you doing?” The guitarist didn’t bother

answering her question. His fist pounded on the rickety bathroom door before opening it. He slammed the door behind them and instantly attached his lips to Y/N’s. He lifted her so that she was sitting on the sink. “No panties huh?” He whispered as he slid his hand under her skirt. However before he could do anything Y/N grabbed his hand. “What do you think you’re doing?” she asked even though she knew very well what he was doing. “Y/N please.” She was surprised by his words, but didn’t let it show. Y/N could feel Slash’s hard on pressed against her thigh. “Sorry babe but I’m not letting you fuck me in a stingy bathroom.” She teased. “Then where can I?” he asked desperately. “What about this Friday, my place, after school?” Slash’s eyes lit up. “Sure,” he said rather excitedly. She hopped down from her place on the sink and made her way towards the door. “You’re really gonna leave me with this huh?” he pointed to the obvious bulge in his pants. “I’m sure you can manage.” she laughed before walking out the door. He sighed in defeat...this is gonna be a long night.

𝐈 𝐮𝐬𝐮𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐚𝐬𝐤 𝐜𝐮𝐳 𝐈 𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐚 𝐛𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐞𝐨𝐩𝐥𝐞, 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐈 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐨𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫? 𝐢𝐝𝐤 𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐟𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐈 𝐚𝐦 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐥𝐦𝐚𝐨

#slash fic #slash #slash imagine #saul hudson #saul hudson fic #saul hudson imagine #slash x reader #guns n roses #mini series #gnr #axl rose #duff mckagan #izzy stradlin #steven adler #gnr x reader #gnr imagine #gnr fic #guns n roses x reader #guns n roses imagine #guns n roses fic

[dancing-with-the-madmen]

Stede and the Thanatos Drive *, redux

I wrote this reply off the cuff and thought I was done with it:

but it turns out I have more to say. Because, yes, Stede kind of has a death wish. It’s not the Thanatos Drive as proposed by Freud, exactly (mostly because freudian bullshit is bullshit), whereby the instinct toward and desire for death are the subconscious motivation driving destructive and aggressive behavior. In Stede’s case, it’s more of a crushing dearth of self-esteem and nearly complete lack of ability to set appropriate boundaries borne from a lifetime of relentless verbal, emotional, and physical abuse at the hands of his parents and peers that sees him passively accepting of further abuse and disrespect, even to the point of death. Stede assumes that people wanting him dead is just the default mode for all humanity upon making his acquaintance. And because he has been shown and told all his life just how worthless he is, and how wrong about everything he values, he assumes they’re right, actually, and he is utterly undeserving of respect, and death is more or less what he deserves.

In the pilot, Stede lets Badminton humiliate him in front of his friends and in private without much more pushback than the suggestion that he had thought of himself as a slender child rather than “a porker”. When things go down, and Olu asks Stede if he wants to live, his reply is “That’s a tough question”, and when Olu asks again, his answer is “I think so! Probably!” Which is… not much better. He doesn’t even flinch or try to argue when Olu tells him “Everyone up there wants you dead”, and Lucius confirms, “It’s true.” He may have been “caring, supportive, and responsive to their needs” and provided the crew with luxury amenities and financial stability, but it comes as no surprise to him all that wasn’t enough to override the innate deficiencies of his character that lead people to wanting him to die.

When the Spanish captain stabs him in episode 3, Stede’s not angry or indignant. He just asks:

They have, after all, just barely been introduced to one another. The stabbing isn’t a surprise, merely how quickly after first acquaintance it took place. Then, to add insult to injury, just as he bleeding from a gut wound and about to be hanged, Jim remonstrates him for being “the worst fuckin’ pirate captain in history.” His reply?

Because of course those are going to be his final words. It’s been the mantra on an endless fucking loop in his head his whole life through.

In episode 9, when the English sentence him to death by firing squad for the death of Nigel Badminton, he denies Ed’s earnest insistence that they’ll find a way out of it.

This seems, at first glance, like a backslide in his character development. Did we not see him coming to terms with his part in Nigel’s death, even admitting he didn’t actually feel all that bad that Nigel is dead? Why would he think he deserves death for having killed Nigel? But Nigel is incidental. He deserves this the way he deserved Jim’s condemnation of his captaining skills. He deserves this because death is all he really deserves, isn’t it?

He’s not even mad at Mary when she tries to murder him in his sleep. He’s much more upset by the means by which she attempted to accomplish her goal.

But for all of this, there’s a great big asterisk to Stede’s passive resignation to being treated like absolute shit. And that asterisk is named Izzy Hands.

Their first encounter goes off well enough, given the circumstances. Stede is, after all, trying to steal the hostages that he lost when he himself was captured by the native villagers. Izzy is defending his purchased hostages, and as far as we and Stede can see, Izzy is calm and responsive to Stede’s sallies instead of the cursing, feral chihuahua we will all come to know and love. Even when he shreds Stede’s shirt with his saber and says “This is how you die,” it’s not so much a threat as a warning; an acknowledgement of his superior prowess with the blade and Stede’s foolishness if he insists on persevering in his intended theft. Izzy remains calm and receptive even when the distraction works and Stede gets the upper hand, agreeing to Stede’s terms of splitting the hostages, and letting them go even though he and Fang, and even poor Ivan with his broken nose, could probably have overtaken and made light work of them quite easily. All in all, as agreeable an introduction as one might hope for when one person is robbing another. (and also Izzy was almost certainly ACHINGLY turned on by having another man best him and hold him at knife point and WILL die mad about it, actually, because he will be DAMNED if he will even admit that is his kink, thankyouverymuch. Oh no. Have I talked myself into a new ship? Behold! A tiny, filthy garbage scow hoves into my fandom harbor and docks in the shadow of the battleship Blackbonnet).

So what’s astonishing to me is that, every time after this initial encounter, Stede is notably aggro toward Izzy. He greets Izzy in Jackie’s pub with an aggrieved sigh and a derisive “You again!” He then proceeds to get Izzy’s name wrong, and when corrected, doubles the fuck down on his dismissiveness, accuse Izzy of stealing (though that was clearly what he was doing TO Izzy at their last encounter, and Izzy agreed to Stede’s terms without reserve), and insult him by saying his boss “has terrible taste in flunkies”. I mean to say, really?!?! All this from the same man who, mere minutes later is resigned to Jackie cutting off his nose because he accidentally knocked over the nose jar, even though he was in the process of picking noses off the dirt floor with his bare hands WHILE WEARING HEAD-TO-TOE WHITE, and would certainly have gotten her any new receptacle her heart could possibly desire.

And through the whole exchange, Izzy is fairly pleasant - or at least as pleasant as a deeply unpleasant little gremlin of a man (affectionate) gets. He insults the bar, sure, but Stede himself uses profanity, so it’s not like he’s some wilting lily who would get bent out of shape over someone else cursing in his vicinity. The only time Izzy gets the least bit out-of-line with Stede is when he gets in his face and growls the correct pronunciation of his name, and he immediately reigns himself back in even while Stede continues to escalate the situation. The viewers know that Izzy has been shit-talking behind Stede’s back (“Pirates, my ass” was said under his breath while Stede and his crew ran away giggling like schoolkids & “Stupid fucking Stede Bonnet” was said on a whole other ship in the privacy of the captain’s quarters), but Stede would have no way of knowing, and therefore no reason to be treating Izzy with such outright contempt and disrespect.

The next time Stede sees Izzy, after he has (mostly) recovered from his gut wound in episode 4, he greets him with another sneer.

Izzy is rough and abrupt with Stede this time, but, frankly, can you blame him? It is literally zero hour if they’re going to defend themselves and/or run from the Spaniards, and this bitch has given him nothing but sass. And THEN, Stede calls him out as an asshole TO HIS BOSS.

They don’t interact directly again until episode 6, at which point there’s a curious shift in their dynamic. Izzy yells at and insults Stede (“His name is Blackbeard, dog!”), at which point, Stede backs down and fucks off witha huffy little passive-aggressive remark about “trouble in paradise”. Later, when Stede is floating the idea of performing a fuckery for the Dutch merchant vessel, Izzy comes in with a back-handed compliment, “As much as I hate to admit it, Captain Bonnet’s theatrical instincts are finely honed. He’s more than up to the challenge.” Stede replies with the most warmth and cordiality we have ever seen him offer Izzy - even going so far as to suggest he may have misjudged him. It’s like Stede can only afford Izzy any respect when Izzy DISrespects him. You know, like all right-thinking people SHOULD. 

We see a shift back to the old dynamic when Izzy makes the mistake of admiring Stede’s library and complimenting the construction of the captain’s quarters, even in a back-handed sort of way. Stede feels no compunction about venting his frustrations about his stymied hopes for the fuckery on an ameliorating Izzy. But Izzy has built his career on managing Ed’s mercurial moods, and is well versed in how to turn the tides once more. He calls Stede a “little shit” and tells him Ed adores him, but in a frankly insulting way: “Why, I’ll never know, but… he does.” (le sigh)  And now Stede is properly primed. A disapproving god is in His heaven, and all is right with the world. Of COURSE Stede will abide Izzy’s wishes and recommit himself to the fuckery! I mean, just look at “The Soul’s Awakening” of this poor sucker’s face.

So is it any wonder that he agrees to the post-fuckery duel, even knowing how skilled Izzy is? Even with Stede’s whole Dunning-Kruger effect approach to all aspects of piracy, surely he can’t think he has a real chance, right? Izzy comes in with more invective and ire than we’ve ever before seen him direct at Stede, and kicks Stede’s Thanatos drive into overdrive. This is how he dies, after all, right? But then he doesn’t. He holds his own more or less. It turns kind of playful (to him, at least). And finally, he can sass Izzy about draws and how his mast is so very big and hard  - much bigger and harder than Izzy’s pathetic little broken blade.

And I’m just stuck wondering why Izzy is the only person for whom Stede will not lay down and die. It’s not the deference. There are plenty of people who are polite to Stede, and he doesn’t go all aggro on them. As much as it would amuse me, it isn’t even a “get your hands off my man” reaction, because some of Stede’s worst unprovoked sniping comes before Stede has even met Ed or knows in what way Izzy is connected with him. Also, we see Stede take all manner of shit from Calico Jack without ever pushing back (until he hurts a member of Stede’s crew. Insult him all you like, but screw with his crew at your own peril!), even when Jack figuratively (and then literally) marks his territory by referencing his former intimacy with Ed.

If I had to guess, I would say that it’s a matter of like repelling like. Izzy may not have the same deficiencies as Stede, or even to the same level, but Stede knows another self-hating repressed closet-case when he sees one. And he knows that, because the whole world has shown him so, that kind is not worthy of respect.

#ofmd #our flag means death #ofmd meta #stede bonnet #Will someone PLEASE hug this poor boy?