#beardy!karl

[savage-rhi]

omg the mental image of karl as a beardie and doing that adorable push-up thing they do when they're territorial and scrabbling uselessly on a hardwood floor xD

@vodkafolie right?! That's what I'm saying 😂 especially with the little pitter patter noise they make when they're marching on the floor. It makes me think of Karl patrolling around the factory 🤣 and when they puff when pissed?

I mean cmon, tell me this aint him:

[batsarebetterthanpeople]

🍺 Jamie, we need the full unabridged Calico Jack essay you certainly have.

Ok so here's the thing. I've already made a lot of the meta about him that I need to make so I'll just link some and give you director's commentary. This is in reverse chronological order of when I posted it so my understanding of my evil alcoholic meow meow has grown more complex and nuanced the farther down it goes.

The full throttle Jack apologia I was on before the canyon materialized - I understand why this one has 7 notes and three of them are from me. I really do. However I stand by most of what I said here. I don't stand by my relative minimization of what Jack did do wrong (Being homophobic, being a bad friend to Ed and saying that they're not friends, Being manipulative instead of just warning Ed and letting him make the call about Stede). I think that what's missing from this little essay is that Jack is, as a narrative tool, trying to pull Ed back into his old life that he hates. His fundamental narrative purpose is to show what Ed's life was like back when he was shitty. Now I think from this perspective that Stede is just as culpable for doing that to Mary but it's not Mary's story any more than it's Jack's story so I am reading against text in this meta. However what you have to understand is that in may of 2022 when I published this thing that Jack was universally hated. I personally saw him as a sympathetic and wrong character where as the general consensus back then was that the dalliances he talked about with Ed had to have been non consensual if they were real because why would Ed ever have sex with a guy like that. Which is a take I have a lot of problems with but the main one is that it denies Ed agency to have sex with a guy that rubs you, the viewer the wrong way. So basically, I agree with this post but I would not make it in the current relatively Jack friendly climate of the fandom. Nor would I make it in a post canyon enviornment where the homophobic masc white guy apologia has reached a fever pitch just because I don't want to be associated with that. Also I'm a lot less charitable to Stede than most ofmd fans for personal, non jack related reasons. Also I want to make a note here that I should have made in that meta but will make now that I'm not saying that Stede is terrible and you shouldn't like him, my argument was essentially that seeing Jack as one dimentionally evil is kind of weird when you're willing to completely write off Stede's misogyny era as an oopsy. I like Stede. Most people like Stede. I stood alone in also liking Jack at the time.

Here's a much more reasonable strain of Jack apologia that I've settled on - In the early days I bounced back and forth between "he literally did nothing wrong except kill Karl" and "He's the worst guy ever (affectionate)" but eventually I saw how the wind was blowing on people who said "he's never done anything wrong" about Izzy and I was like, I'll dial it back even though I'm not throwing Ed or Stede (generally unless I'm also defending Mary B in the same breath) under the bus to say it. You'll notice it's pretty much the same thesis except for instead of being phrased as "Stede was out of pocket and Jack did nothing wrong and you're all highschool brained" it's phrased as "I think this is what happened but these two other things could also be the case and I would still like him. This is the clear role he plays in the narrative giving it to someone else annoys me." Also Beardy is what I started having my Jack tulpa call Ed before season 2. I've explained why Here on the @ask-calico-jack sideblog where I'm the mod because I got an ask about it and I decided to address it out of character. Also I'm Not Going Anywhere is a Jack apologia fic I was writing at the time which I have since abandoned. Basically I whumped him into submission.

My Evidence for Jack being willing to risk his life to save Ed - more apologia that I stand by. Once again I want to reiterate that in 2022 everybody hated that guy and most people still hate him which is fair and natural but enough people have come around that I'm now willing to ignore the haters because I have to fight with the people who like him wrong.

this was part of an ask game asking me what I thought about ships and I went off about Ed and Jack

I learned that Calico Jack was named after calico the fabric and I made this because I'm still on my Jack/Ed enemies to rivals who fuck shit - Not sure about Ed's skin here, is he too orange? depends on whether you're on desktop or mobile.

Calico Jack penis discourse - This one is integral to my view of the pissing scene. I love the pissing scene it's one of the only scenes of tv ever.

Jack is cute he would kill me for saying it but it's true 2 3 4

Brief asside that I feel like I have to put in and here's probably best: At some point in late 2022 early 2023 Jack stopped being so villified and people started to think he was kinda fun. After this the CJizzys attacked. I used to passively like the concept of CJizzy because in my head they were the worlds worst guys being terrible together. It was giving Izzy a pirate captain to obsess over the way he obsesses over blackbeard, except the pirate captain actually liked being a pirate captain so it was healthier than what he has going on with Ed, and also it was like if that one straight couple that are together but hate each other because she's a nag and he's a slob were gay pirates who partake in unsafe bdsm. Then a bunch of people started writing and drawing this wildly out of character CJizzy stuff and I got turned off of it completely because they would hollow out my favoriate little villain to turn him into the perfect white masc boyfriend for their little guy because they cant enjoy a show if there aren't masc4mascs in it, and now because of that I hate the ship. I just can't stand people giving Jack emotional intelligence without him being wrapped in a blanket and socialized by force first. It's not that I don't like woobifying him it's that you're woobifying him wrong and above is the way you ought to do it. anyway, onwards.

Anon asks me how I think Jack felt about being rejected by the crew - I stumble upon an interesting potential motive for him faumenting mutiny against Stede and potentially evidence for him telling the truth about having been mutinied three times.

Ed has a type - I added Frenchie in here because I'm a serial shipper and I stand by that decision despite Frenchie being different from Jack and Stede in most ways but I genuinely think that Stede and Jack are a very similar type of guy

Jack is not a frat boy - this one is me being a dick again but also I'm right.

Jack calls Stede slurs, this is funny - note that Stede also calls Jack "calico" as if his first name is Calico and his last name is Jack and that historically Jack was called "calico" Jack because some guy writing a salacious book about pirates wanted to make him seem gay so to me Jack's nickname for Stede is Fairy and Stede's nickname for Jack is Fudgepacker. This to me is both amusing and homoerotic.

Fic rec - What I think Jack and Ed were like as kids, there's a one paragraph meta and then below it a link to a 2k word fic

Jack has a type - Anne and Mary came out and I love them

Jack fucks - This has always been my take but I think there's a lot of people on here who thinks he doesn't fuck well and all of them are wrong, and more importantly, have not had sex with as many bisexual 50 year old alcoholic perverts as I have, so they don't know what they're talking about. Jack would try to sell me meth on grindr.

Jack and Ed are tragic actually - they could have been highschool sweet hearts who got married if Jack wasn't a little bitch

I am shipping so hard right now - my thesis about my pet 5 way

Aro cowboy pirate- Jack and Jim also have stuff in common

Jack has dimentions don't you dare say he doesn't have dimensions - Jack actually is sympathetic Ed told me himself and he also told you and Jack also says a lot about both Ed and Stede and that's the whole reason he's there is to say a lot about Ed and Stede if you will just listen to what his presence says about the guys you like maybe you would understand him like I do. (you general not you specifically)

and finally

my writing advice.

[thorinsbeard]

Movies watched in 2022: The Chronicles of Riddick

[gretchenzellerbarnes]

A smirk pulled at Zane's lips, and he let it show. He loved teasing Ty, and this one always got him riled. “The Valkyries out back.” Ty coughed and sputtered, like he was choking on a bite of food. “Hell, no,” he finally said with difficulty. “Ill walk.” Zane chuckled and felt around for the fork hed heard Ty clank onto the plate. It was mean, but he loved poking Ty about the Valkyrie. He supposed he shouldnt, what with knowing about Deuce and the accident. Ty had taught his younger brother how to ride and left him his bike when he joined the Marines. Deuce had wrecked it not long after, ruining his leg and any chance of following in his brothers footsteps. But Deuce seemed to take it all in stride, so Zane didnt really see the harm in teasing Ty about his absolute hatred of all things with two wheels. “Okay,” he said after several mouthfuls of scrambled egg. “Bureau wont reimburse cab fare,” he reminded, just to get in one more dig.

“Thats okay,” Ty assured him in an overly sweet voice. “Ive got your wallet.”

Zane grinned. “I dont have any cash. When have I been able to go to the bank?” he said reasonably as he munched on a piece of bacon. “Cabs take credit cards,” Ty reminded. Zane wrinkled his nose. “Fine,” he said on a sigh. “Can I have jelly for my toast?” He heard a jar clink down on the bar, and Ty was grumbling. Not really understandably, but obviously irritated now.

“I havent been on a bike in twenty years,” he said, more to himself than to Zane. “Maybe not a good idea, then,” Zane allowed reluctantly. He could see Ty on the Valkyrie, and it was a gorgeous vision to think about. But this wasnt a do-or-die situation, like playing chicken with a New York City taxicab. Zane shivered as he momentarily felt his stomach drop just at the memory.

Ty sighed heavily. “I guess it is a better option than walking my happy ass out of the city,” he mumbled.

Zane blinked and straightened. “What?”

“Can I borrow your goddamn motorcycle to go to the office?” Ty asked, resigned.

Zanes jaw dropped. “Youre not seriously going to take the Valkyrie.”

“I could hotwire one of the cars in that parking deck, but they dont take kindly to that sort of thing round here,” Ty drawled.

“All these months, all the times Ive asked you to ride with me, and youre finally getting on the Valkyrie when I can’t see it?”

“Hey, lifes a bitch,” Ty told him without a hint of sympathy. He reached out and petted Zane on the top of the head. “You want more?”

“More what?”

“Breakfast.”

“No, thank you,” Zane muttered, knowing he had another piece of toast and some bacon still to eat. “A drink, though, please.” Ty slid a glass toward him, already poured. “If you dont mind, Im going to go now so I can catch them unawares and take down the weakest of the herd before they can regroup,” he said with a certain sadistic relish. “I need the helmet, jacket, and keys.”

Zane sighed. He felt more than a little cheated. “The helmets on the bike. The jackets wherever it fell last night.” Ty didnt answer as he moved past. In short order Zane could hear the creak of the leather as he put on the jacket and zipped it up. Zane wished like hell that he could see Ty on the bike. Talk about fuel for jacking off.

He could smell the leather as Ty came closer, hear it moving as he checked the pockets. No doubt it would fit; the jacket had been Tys originally. Ty stood right in front of him and leaned in to kiss him briefly. “If youre good Ill do this again when you can see,” he promised, mischief lacing his words. “Keys?”

Zane blinked. “Really?” He smiled despite the current disappointment. “How good do I have to be?”

“Very,” Ty whispered, just a breath away. “You can start by giving me the keys.” Zane let a few heartbeats pass as awareness tore through him, then swallowed as he set both palms on the leather covering Tys chest. “In the dish on the bookshelf by the door.”

“Thank you,” Ty murmured with another teasing kiss. Then he moved away again, his footfalls barely there in his Converse sneakers and the leather jacket still creaking. The keys tinkled as he picked them up. “Ill call you when Im done,” Ty said to him as he passed on his way to the back door. “Keep your phone on you in case you need anything. Two hours, tops,” he guessed as the door opened.

“Ill be here,” Zane said wryly, and then added, “Hey, Ty?” “Yeah?” Ty responded as the door groaned open. A vision flashed in Zanes mind, what Ty must look like, standing in the open doorway, wearing his beat-up jeans and Western-style shirt and Zanes leather jacket, looking back over his shoulder at Zane expectantly. He probably had one eyebrow raised.

“Be careful. I want that chance to see this again,” Zane replied easily.

“Yeah, yeah, love you too,” Ty groused flippantly, shocking Zane into silence as the door clicked behind him, and he was gone. Zane blinked hard several times, realized his mouth was hanging open, and let out a long, slow breath, sitting there until he heard the Valkyrie start, idle for a minute or two, and then purr away. When he couldnt hear it anymore, he ate the toast and cold bacon automatically, absorbed in thinking about—feeling about—what Ty had said so casually, and how he himself hadnt found a way to say it at all.

  ~ Divide & Conquer, by Abigail Roux

  I know it's not a Honda Valkyrie, but this pic of Karl straddling a bike, by Denys Ilic, is just so gorgeous I couldn't resist...

[noriseyebrow]

Pouncival For @marastarfar

[trickchairs]

the dialectic of le jeune karl marx is marx should raw me

[star-trekkin-across-theuniverse]

Why are we not talking about this?

Beardy Karl in The Boys... mmmmm

[themaliciousravioli]

Hgcvyjcfybuu

[janeykath318]

Normally I prefer Chris Pine. Beardy Karl is the exception.

I just.....can’t.....when people post gifs from Bent.

[lets-daniel-gertsch-blog]

Amelie Gertsch und ihr Stiefopa Walter Gertsch, Brockenstube Hiob, Murten...

1F: Amelie hat Schi-zo(o)-PH-reigne gefahren...

1F: The daughter of Karl Marx played PI-AN-circle...not like Albert Einstein Violine...

1F: Me the Grand-P-A, Korporal Walter Gertsch, will fuck her to death and kill her in the name of Swiss Army, not being nice man, as Amelie thinks, I think...beardy OP-A with killer HI-O-B-Crew...BO-E-ING 777 MUNITION-ICH...

3F-5F=-2DF: never read one ot(f) AG-ENTEN Daniel’s BOO(PUH)KOENNEN: so costs death row...now...walter ciao...garst...is...no forgiveness...NDKE...ues.land.is...michaltoo.re-p-dea-true....no truth is my truth...

[thorinsbeard]

[annathewitch]

Why you scared of floofy & beardy?

This is random but I think Gavin would flourish is a relationship where his will call him out on his shit, but also let him get things out of his system. I picture him ranting about Grace interfering with work, his partner doing something in the kitchen and saying ‘mhmm.’ ‘yes, dear. of course.’ until he’s calmed down enough to listen to other perspectives.

I haven’t seen the movie, but this sounds right to me :) @musikat18 @bookcaseninja @queenmismatched @annathewitch

[amaluelmwood]

*glares at pictures of RDJ and Karl Urban and Tom Hardy in all their hairy, beardy, broad shouldered gloriousness*

It’s really annoying that I can’t tell if I want to HUG them or BE them. 

Maybe both? 

Problem with being friggin’ genderqueer. I want to be hairy and beardy. But instead I’ve got goddamn breasts and a broken uterus that’s apparently trying to kill me. 

[star-trekkin-across-theuniverse]

Just ordered...

I just ordered Bent, The Hangman and Acts of Vengeance. I’m ready for some beardy Karl.

[annathewitch]

I was provoked! Taunted! Manipulated!

your opinion on Karl's beard?

*I stand up at a press conference podium and shuffle the mostly blank papers in my hands as if preparing my speech. I clear my throat before speaking very calmly and clearly.*

Beards and facial hair are something I’m very picky about, but Karl Urban is a fine-ass man with a fine-ass beard who looks lovely scruffy or clean-shaven.

*I see someone in the back row. It’s @annathewitch. She is standing up and she has a gif on hand.*

I WILL NOT LET THIS MAN AFFECT MY OVARIES TODAY!!!!!

*I throw my entire podium poorly at her before dashing away.*

(Keep me company?)

[trade-baby-blues]

Looking Up

Pairing: Bones x Reader

Word Count: 1160

Warnings: Angsty, swearing

A/N: Requested by @brooke-taylor0323 for my 300 followers AU Celebration! :D In doing this I’ve figured out that meet messy AUs are my fave. Prompt was:  i’ve had a really awful day so i started kicking a car out of frustration and it turned out to be your car i’m so sorry.”  Hope you enjoy!!

The air was too thick in the office, choking you as you swallowed back tears. The once gentle hum of the air conditioner sounded like a wordless scream falling on the deaf ears of your supervisor as he sat across the desk from you, looking awkwardly at his hands.

“Fired,” you whispered again. You thought repeating the word would make it sound less foreign, but it felt just as strange on your tongue.

“Not fired,” he said, voice oozing the faux happiness you’d only experienced directed at customers, “Let go.” You were still trying to process what he said when he was ushering you back to your office, which had already been packed up. Four years of college, five years of work, and one fading dream all stuffed into two cardboard boxes propped on top of your now empty desk.

You struggled to balance both boxes under your chin as you made your way to the elevator, mind still racing with thoughts of what you were going to do now. This had been your dream job, the vision that kept you going through college when the stress from tests got too much, when you sacrificed social time to work at internship after internship. You reached forward to press the call button when you saw the sign on the elevator. Under maintenance. Your throat burned and you had to pinch your eyes shut to keep yourself from crying. You could feel your shirt clinging to you as sweat began sliding down your spine. Your arms were shaking lightly already from the strain of carrying the boxes. With a sigh, you went to the stairwell, hoping your arms would hold up until you got to your bike.

The stairwell light flickered, making the way down more ominous. Your footsteps echoed in the hallway, and you tried to commit the sound to memory. The droning of the fluorescent lights and the distant smell of toner. You didn't realize how much you'd miss. You were rounding the corner to the second floor when someone came flying out of the stairwell exit, crashing into you and almost sending you careening down the stairs. You latched onto the railing, dropping your boxes but managing to stay standing.

“Sorry,” the person said, bolting down the stairs without stopping to help you up. You watched your belongings tumble down, echoing in the hall and in your head, reminding you how hollow you felt now. A picture frame hit the floor and shattered. Your Christmas office party two years ago. The year Jim told you you were getting a promotion. You collected your things as you went down the stairs, stopping at the picture with a heavy heart, walking past to leave it for the spiders. Clearly, you didn't matter to the company so they shouldn't matter to you.

The brightness of the sun lit up the shadows of your face, and you walked out of the office head held high, a plan forming (if you could call a date with a bottle of vodka a plan). You still had an apartment. You still had your bike. You were going to get through this. You’d take a couple days off and really enjoy your newfound freedom before hitting a few local places that were always hiring. You opened your eyes, ready to take on the rest of the day, and your heart shattered.

Your bike was stuck under a car, tire rim twisted into a menacing metal smile. The pink wicker basket that normally sat on your handlebars was cracked in half across the sidewalk. The boxes slipped from you grasp again, contents hitting the ground and scattering. A few papers got caught up in the wind and blew away along with any shred of self-preservation you had left. You pushed your sleeves up slowly, methodically, as your mind went into autopilot. As you walked towards the offending car, blissfully unaware of what was to come, a smile spread across your face. You were definitely losing it.

Your boot bounced straight off the tire the first time you kicked. You swung your foot again, hitting the rim this time. Pain shot through your foot but you swung again mercilessly. The pain kept you grounded, helped you fight against the haziness that tore at your vision and the tightness building in your chest. You kicked again, hitting the bumper. Tears began to fall freely now as you kicked the bumper again, this time leave a small dent. You lifted your foot to swing again when a strong hand grabbed your arm and pulled you away from the car.

“Are you out of your goddamn mind? That’s my fucking car.”

“And that’s my fucking bike you ran over,” you screamed. People on the streets were turning to look, but you couldn’t find the energy to be embarrassed. Why not let them get first row seats to watch your life fall apart? You balled up your fist and hit him weakly against the chest. “It was all I had.” Another swat, another sob. “And you b-broke it.” You staggered back against his car, letting the despair wash over you.

The man stood dumbfounded, not quite sure if you would hit him again or keep crying. Although, he probably deserved another smack for making such an angel hurt so deeply. God, he can’t remember the last time he saw a face as perfect as yours, hair tumbling down and framing it. He wasn’t exactly a religious man, but damn if Leonard McCoy wasn’t having a spiritual moment right now. “I’m sorry, ma’am,” he said gently, reaching to put a hand on your arm. When you didn’t pull away, he started to rub small circles on your skin. “I’ll buy you a new bike, I promise.”

“No,” you said, choking back another sob, “No, I’m sorry it’s just been a really shitty day. I got fired and then the elevator was broken and I fell down the stairs and then I found out my bike was broken and now I’m spilling my guts to a really hot stranger on the street and I just can’t stop talking I just can’t sto-”

Luckily, another sob cut you off before you could keep rambling on. The man in front of you only laughed, pulling you into a hug. You wrapped your arms around his waist, feeling his broad chest pressed against yours, feeling protected. “How about you let me buy you lunch, sugar? I know a restaurant close by with a pecan pie so good I think my mama must’ve sold them the recipe.”

“I’m allergic to pecans,” you muttered into his chest. He chuckled again as he reached past you to open the passenger door. You shamelessly ran your hands across his chest and down to his waist, feeling every dip and curve of his muscles through his white dress shirt. “I’m Y/N, by the way,” you muttered as you slipped into the car.

Tags: 

@outside-the-government @martinawalker @thevalesofanduin @goingknowherewastaken @yourtropegirl @trekken81 @feelmyroarrrr @yukki-art @atari-writes @pabegay1 @bolontiku

@daybreak96 @8bit-arc-reactor @jimtkirkisabitch

This is the Bones I pictured for this bc blue suit beardy Karl Urban is my weakness: