#like yeah we are aware that it was just a show but WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU MEAN THAT IT WAS JUST A SHOW???

[himbosandhardwear]

Steddie I No UD AU I SFW I Aged Up Characters I Fluff

I have no idea how many words this is, I banged it out right here in the Tumblr app. I was possessed by a demon, I think. Anyway! Behold! Baker!Eddie and Smitten!Steve for your viewing pleasure...

***

"Sir? Your drink."

Steve, startled back into the moment, blinks at the barista as she holds out his latte. He takes it from her, apologizes, and starts to walk away but...

"Sorry again, but, uh, is that Eddie Munson by any chance?"

She turns to look through the pass through window into the bakery. "Yeah. Why? You need him for something?"

"No!" He winces. "Sorry. No. I just haven't seen him in years. We went to high school together. I had no idea he worked here."

She smiles like she's placating him, 'fascinating' that smile says. "He's the owner, actually. His brownies are world famous."

"No shit? That's awesome. Good for him."

He doesn't get a response to that, so he leaves her alone to finish making other people's coffees.

What a weird coincidence, Steve moving to this neighborhood and finding...well, not an old friend exactly, but a fellow Hawkins High survivor.

***

Two days later, Steve is still thinking about Eddie. His goofy hairnet, the flour dusted up his arms, the adorable apron, decorated with skulls, of course. His smile. With the dimples and everything.

"Ugh."

He's gonna go back. Probably make a complete ass of himself.

"Ugh!"

Maybe he'll go just for another look. Eddie won't even notice he's there.

***

He doesn't get a chance to sneak in and out, Eddie himself greets Steve as soon as the bell goes off above the door.

"Steve Harrington is the mystery alumni?! Can't believe you saw my ugly mug and decided to come back. Wait..." He raises a suspicious eyebrow. "Are you stalking me?"

Steve sputters in horror, feeling caught out, but Eddie just laughs at him, throwing his head back, sending his already loose bun jiggling. Steve breaks into a nervous sweat.

"I'm just fucking with you, man. Come here, let me get a look at you."

Jesus Christ, why is this more nerve wracking than buying pot off the guy behind the school?

Because now you're aware of the reason why he flustered you in the first place, dumb ass.

He steps up to the display counter anyway, trying to be unobtrusive to the people in line. "Hey, Eddie. How are you?"

His smile could lure people into the fucking ocean. "Livin' the dream. You? What brings you to Chi Town?"

"Oh, I just moved in a couple doors down, actually. This neighborhood is great. Super friendly, great shopping, cool bakeries." He motions around them.

Eddie gives him an 'Aw shucks' wave. "You're just saying that because Lilly's salted caramel latte is to die for. You haven't even tried the other wares."

He glances down at the glass case. Normally he doesn't do sweets for breakfast but Eddie's 'wares' do look pretty good. "I hear your brownies are world famous."

His eyes light up, despite how cool about it he's trying to be. "I mean, we were featured on a British travel show... No biggie."

"That's really cool, man. Congratulations."

He casually wipes at the counter with a tea towel, the epitome of nonchalant. "Thanks. You wanna try one?"

"Sure." He glances at the selection but there are so many and they all look good. "Recommend anything in particular?"

Eddie bounces on his toes for a second before whirling around and rushing off to the back. His hair is pinned up in that bun but Steve remembers how it used to trail behind him when he moved, as though working with Looney Toons physics.

When he reappears, he's got a wax paper bundle clutched between two hands. "Voila! Salty Turtle Dog."

"Salty Turtle Dog?" Steve confirms, moving to take the thing from Eddie's presenting hands.

At the last second he pulls back. "You're not allergic to nuts, are you?"

There's a joke there but he's not ready to make it. "Not so far, no."

"Cool." He allows Steve to finally take it from him.

The unwrapped package is still steaming warm. It's been a really long time since he's had a fresh out of the oven brownie. He pinches a bite off with his fingers and pops it into his mouth.

"Oh my god," he groans, head rolled back in pleasure. It's like crispy, gooey, salty, caramel heaven. "What the fuck did you put in this?"

"Blood of a virgin. And walnuts."

"I'll take the whole pan." He shoves another bite into his mouth before he looks up to see Eddie watching him, a pleasant smile upon his face and a bit of color on his cheeks. Embarrassment rolls through him as he realizes he's been moaning like a cat in heat for the last half minute. He rushes to save some sort of face. "It's good. Really good."

"Thanks." He calls out to the new girl making coffee orders, getting Steve another latte. "The secret ingredient is actually the flakey salt on top."

He looks down and sure enough, flakey salt on top. "Neat."

"You working nearby? I'm not usually in during the lunch rush but you could always stop by. We do sandwiches for the lunch menu."

"Nah, I'm Uptown. About fifteen stops." Unfortunately, he thinks, desperately wanting another excuse to stop by. He'd already checked, they close at 3pm. He doesn't get off till 5.

Eddie nods, wiping at the counter again, though it's not dirty. "Doing what?" He looks Steve up and down, noting the button up shirt and khaki pants.

Steve cannot tell Eddie Munson he does data entry, he'll never want to talk to him again. "Uh, boring office shit. Tell me about this," he waves around the bakery, "how did you get into it? Baking."

That makes him laugh. "By accident. You remember my...side gig?"

"Of course." The first time he had to buy directly from Eddie, after he and Tommy parted ways, Steve nearly chickened out, he was so scared of Eddie.

Turns out fear wasn't exactly the thing churning in his gut.

"Well, I got curious one night, thought I might try my hand at edibles. Sounded like a safer option to be transporting around school, ya know? I started small, chocolate chip cookies, but eventually I started branching out, brownies, cake, whatever. And they were a huge hit. My friends actually loved it so much we made the classic mistake of eating too many in one sitting. I'm talkin' like a whole pan in an hour-"

Steve winces in sympathy.

"Yeah. Long story short, I met the devil that night and he pointed out to me that I could, in fact, make baked goods without the weed. Ya know, brownies for eating purposes."

Steve giggles against his will. "Helpful."

"Right? And now here I am, ten years later, averaging four hours of sleep a day, but really, truly livin' the dream."

"That's really cool." Steve has always been attracted to people who have passion. Probably because he hasn't been passionate about anything in his entire life. "You should really try to work on your sleep schedule though. I learned that the hard way during school."

"I'd love to but it's impossible. I'm too much of a night owl to sleep at night and I have to be here at 4am, so I'm usually crashing out after work and sleeping till 2 or 3pm."

"Aww, that sucks. If we lived together, we'd never go to bed at the same time."

It occurs almost immediately that that's an insane thing to say to a virtual stranger. Eddie is frozen solid behind the counter, eyes taking up forty percent of his face, silent as the grave.

Steve turns tail and marches right out of the shop.

***

He swears an oath to never return to Eddie's shop, on pain of death, but then he remembers he left half his brownie sitting on the counter and left his latte too. Without paying! The embarrassment is overshadowed by the guilt, so much so that when Saturday morning rolls around he finds himself standing outside on the sidewalk, waiting until he gets confirmation that Eddie is there to go in.

He is, passing back and forth across the kitchen window behind the counter, bobbing his head wildly to some unheard music.

Steve desperately wants to get to know this version of Eddie, so similar but so different to his high school self. Maybe he'll forgive Steve for being such a weirdo and they can be friends. Eddie doesn't seem the type to hold a social faux pas against a guy. He once made a giant dick out of paper mache in Advanced Art. They made him destroy it before Steve got a look but he heard all about it. Five feet tall, they said. Veiny, they said.

He shakes the thought away and steels his spine. Now or never.

The bell dings above his head. He waits. Nothing dire happens. Eddie doesn't leap out from the kitchen, pointing a finger and screaming 'Creep!' Not that Steve thought he would... But you never knew.

"Hello. What can I get for you?" The barista greets, pleasant but by rote.

"Umm. Salted caramel latte? Medium. And, uh, whatever brownie Eddie recommends."

She gives him a look, confused, before something clicks. "Ohhh." She then turns and shouts, "Eddie, your guy is here!"

Steve goes to correct that horrific statement but the loud clattering of a metal bowl hitting the floor cuts him off. Eddie swears, loudly, before his head pops around the pass through.

"I didn't say that," he frantically tells Steve, "she said that. Not me. Dana! Don't say shit like that."

"What? I thought you said-"

"If you finish that sentence, his order comes out of your paycheck."

She scowls. "Whatever." Her scowl doesn't lessen when she turns back to him. "Was that all?"

Steve glances up at Eddie in the window. "Brownie?" He asks, articulately.

"Get him a Valencia." He turns back to the kitchen, only to pop up again a second later, sans hairnet, and ask, "You got five minutes?"

Steve will hang out all day if Eddie asks, but he can't say that. "Sure. I'll be over there." He points towards the window seats.

"Cool. Be right back."

Steve pays and takes his latte and his not fresh out of the oven brownie and moves to the aforementioned table. It's after the morning rush so there are only a few other people scattered around. The closest person is a student doing homework, and thankfully has headphones on. He's pretty sure whatever conversation Eddie wants to have is going to be embarrassing.

His hours old Valencia brownie is still to die for, tangy this time but soft as hell. If Eddie lets him come back he's gonna get as big as a house.

He's halfway through his breakfast when Eddie flops down across from him. He's lost the apron this time too, looking sexy as hell in just a regular black t-shirt and jeans. Still every inch a rockstar even if he's not shredding a guitar. And he's got a little smudge of batter across one cheek... God...

"Hi. Thanks for sticking around."

"No problem. I'm off today."

"Right. Saturday."

"Right."

They stare at each other, painfully awkward, until they both make it worse by trying to speak at the same time.

"I'm sorry about-"

"What did you mean-"

"Oh, sorry."

"No, I'm sorry. You go."

"No, you, seriously."

Steve slaps both hands over his face and whisper shouts until he feels like he's not gonna run out the door again.

"You know what?" Eddie quips. "It's not important right now. How's the brownie?"

He's so sweet. God dammit.

"Really good. Is it orange? Is that what the crunchy bits are?"

"Yeah, candied orange. How's the latte?"

He hesitates a second too long and Eddie cracks a laugh.

"Yeah, that's what I thought. You can't fire someone for being straight but I swear they can't work a milk steamer for shit. I can't prove it yet but I know it's true."

Holy shit, the implications of that... There were rumors about Eddie in school, of course, but you had to take everything said about him with a grain of salt. Just because he's implying that he's queer doesn't mean he's single or that he's open to dating Steve in particular. He decides to focus on the other implication.

"So Lilly is queer? Is she single? I've got a lesbian I desperately need to get laid."

Eddie snorts. "Oh yeah? Wait a minute. Buckley? Holy shit, you still talk to her?"

"Talk to her? I just left her on the couch eating an entire sleeve of my Oreos." He sips his mediocre latte and grunts in annoyance. "If she doesn't get over Penelope soon I'm gonna stage an intervention."

"Oh no..." Eddie makes a face.

"What?

"Penelope Williams? Works at the stationary shop on Ashford?"

What the hell? "Yeah? How did you know?"

"Lilly is on her second date with her tonight." He winces even harder, as if it's somehow all his fault.

Steve just laughs. "Why does every lesbian in a five hundred mile radius know each other?"

"Witchcraft, probably. Ouija boards?"

He pops the last of his brownie into his mouth and nods. It's as valid a reason as anything else. He decides to keep the news of Penelope moving on already to himself. Rob just stopped sobbing into his neck three days ago, and he's been waiting on her to feel better before he tells her about Eddie.

"You think if I had Rob come over and put the moves on Dana, she'd make a better latte?"

Eddie cackles. "Couldn't hurt to try."

They smile at each other. It doesn't feel weird, it feels nice, like they can do this, be friendly. Or it would've been if Eddie didn't open his mouth and blurt out, "Did you mean what you said the other day?"

Steve throws his head back and groans. When he looks back, Eddie is waiting patiently for a response. "I'm sorry, okay? Sometimes my brain to mouth filter is busted."

"No, it's cool." He waves Steve's explanation like it's nothing. "I meant, like, was that meant to sound like...what it sounded like?"

Steve cocks his head. He's not sure how else what he said could be interpreted. Like, did Eddie think he was obsessed with sharing a bedtime with Robin too?

He catches Steve's confusion, leans in and whispers, "I just didn't think that was...an option for you..."

"Ohhh," he drawls. Right. "Yeah. Uh," he looks around to make sure no one is listening in, "I'm open to all kinds of...options."

He watches as Eddie processes this, does a frankly upsetting amount of lip licking, and then looks up from between his lashes. "And the thing your brain didn't filter was me being one of those options?"

Fuck. It was embarrassing right up until this exact moment, Eddie looking at him like that. He feels his throat constrict as he tries to swallow.

"Is that okay?" He whispers.

They're leaning really fucking close together - Eddie smells like cinnamon and Camels - so whispering to stay inconspicuous is stupid at this point. Neither of them seem to care.

"Steve Harrington," Eddie draws his name out long and meaningful, as though that's answer enough. Steve supposes it is, coupled with the look he's sharing.

"Five minutes ago."

"What time do you get off?" Eddie practically twinkles at him. Steve groans. "Oh my god, what time do you get off work?"

"Oh." Steve chugs the dregs of his adequate latte. "You wanna get out of here?"

"Not to your place if Robin is still on the couch."

Steve blushes from top to bottom. God dammit, he used to be slutty, why is this so hard? "Right. Your place?"

"All clear." He flashes Steve a grin, full and tempting. Like Steve isn't a sure thing.

They scramble out of their seats and head for the door. At the last second, Steve stops.

"Wait, I almost forgot." He grabs his wallet and starts fishing out a ten. "I forgot to pay last time."

"Keep your money."

He looks up. "What?"

"I wasn't gonna charge for that stuff anyway."

"Okay... But...Why?"

He shuffles in place, all sheepish for some reason. "I kinda over-charged you for the weed. Every time you paid. For years."

Steve is so gone on him already, he just finds that charming.

***

Later that night, while Eddie is asleep, Steve slips the ten under his pillow.

It'll become a back and forth in-joke they share for years.

saw this on instagram (yes, instagram) and i can’t stop thinking about steve recognising eddie at a bakery and immediately falling in love with the guy he kinda had a thing for in high school but never allowed himself to think about too much. like, he’s always had eddie in the back of his mind since finishing school but suddenly seeing him has him all heart eyes and also kind of surprised with what eddie ended up doing with his life. idk, you can think about the statistics, i’m not a writer (please someone write something and tag me 🙏) but THIS will be in my head all day at work

[edwardteachswombtattoo]

The interior of Ed and Stede's relationship is well-tread both in analysis and the show itself. We know why they fall for each other, how they fall for each other, when they fall for each other. We've been inside their heads. We could, if we wanted to, probably compile a rough timeline of events from Point A (Ed hearing of Stede's existence) to Point Z (Ed and Stede retiring from piracy to open an inn). Has anyone done that? Someone should do that. I might do that.

But a thread the show keeps pulling on from their first meeting all the way to the end of Season 2 is the persistent showing that no one else seems to fully understand what Ed and Stede have going on.

There are exceptions to this. Lucius with his emotional intelligence and arguably the whole crew of The Revenge understand that Ed and Stede feel something for each other that is somewhat outside the framework. The Revenge is a safe space where they are allowed to explore and hold feelings like that and their influence (Stede's, but really the whole crew's) outgrows the ship and spills out into the wider culture of piracy. They don't fundamentally change the whole culture of piracy, but their influence forces characters who would otherwise be immovable and rigid in their personal philosophies (Anne and Mary Read, Zheng Yi Sao, Auntie, Ned Low's crew, etc.) to rethink their relationships with each other.

I already made a post about Jack and how he seems to think Stede is just a passing fascination, so I won't repeat myself. But this is not the first nor will it be the last time a character fundamentally misunderstands how much Ed cares about Stede. Izzy in Season 1 legitimately believes that Stede's death will force Ed back to normal, to the extent that he does not even try to comfort or console Ed during Stede's almost-execution. And he is caught totally caught off guard when Ed gives up his life to save Stede's.

Ned Low demonstrates an awareness of something being there, but he dismisses it the same way Jack did: Ed only cares about Stede because he's new and interesting. Ed will move on once that shiny new pirate smell wears off. "Ed only cares because you're interesting" and "Ed only cares because you're inexperienced".

These are easy assumptions to make when you only have one half of the picture. And when you don't understand that Ed exists as a multi-faceted whole thinking person outside of his Blackbeard persona and piracy. The distinction between "Blackbeard" and "Ed" was made very early on (Ed introducing himself as "Ed") and reinforced later with "His name is Ed". When other characters refer to Ed, it's useful to ask: are they talking about Ed or Blackbeard? Ed and Blackbeard are not fundamentally distinct personalities, but Blackbeard is a performance and a mask Ed puts on. His arc at the end of Season 2 deals with reconciling his past, Blackbeard, The Kraken, and all these other facets of himself into one cohesive person who is just called Ed.

Yeah, Ed is fascinated by Stede's things. His fabrics, his wardrobe, the model ship, the secret passages, the books. But even from their first meeting, Ed and Stede are not just connecting over Stede's clothes and his books. Ed is sharing his love of soft things with someone for probably the first time in his life, he's being vulnerable and truthful. He remains guarded through their first interactions, but he's being more open and candid than Blackbeard would be. "Do you fancy a fine fabric?" is not a question Blackbeard would answer honestly. And when Ed casually makes the reveal ("I'm Blackbeard") in the auxiliary wardrobe, Stede does not treat him any differently after the fact. Everyone else is like "big scary pirate Blackbeard!!" but Stede is like "That's Ed :) He's my friend :) He's very cool and he likes fabrics and did I mention he is my friend?? :)"

Ned Low, Izzy Hands, and Jack all ask the question Why does Blackbeard care so much about this fucking muppet? and collectively decide it must be because Stede clearly does not know what he's doing and/or he has a lot of cool stuff and Ed is into that shit. And there is a part of Ed who probably did at one point think it was just Stede's stuff he was into, that he just wanted what Stede had and then realized it was not about the fancy stuff it was about Stede as a person. That is why Ed starts to really fall for Stede at the end of "The Best Revenge is Dressing Well". They have their intimate moment and Ed is like oh fuck I might be in love with this guy for real oh fuccccck I want to kiss him so baddddd oh shit oh fuck. I've always been of the (maybe controversial? idk) opinion that Ed was flirting during their first meeting and making it obvious as possible he was DTF if Stede was into that, which is the maximum amount of physical intimacy and wanting Ed could allow himself to express without getting scared. He wasn't full bright lights in love with Stede at first sight, but he was infatuated at first conversation.

Interestingly, we never see this on the other side. It is always assumed that Stede just doesn't understand Ed, that he doesn't understand how Ed really feels about him and if he only knew The Real Ed (Blackbeard) he wouldn't have so many soft feelings. In Season 2, Stede is continuously confused when people suggest Ed might try to kill him. Because Stede alone knows that the last time Ed tried that, he ended up having a panic attack and hiding in Stede's bathtub. Izzy tries to pull the whole "you don't know him like I do" and Stede rebukes that fucking instantly by describing Ed's entire mindset in a single sentence while Izzy was just last season struggling to understand Ed's sudden shift in behavior. Izzy sees a change in Ed's behavior and is at a loss to understand, while Stede sees a change in Ed's behavior and instantly clocks what is going on.

"You don't actually know him" is how outsiders rationalize Stede's feelings about Ed and "he's just a momentary bit of fun" is how outsiders rationalize Ed's feelings for Stede.

The key to these intimate moments between Ed and Stede is that they really are between Ed and Stede. Ed never shares these memories with anyone. Even when he's talking with Mary Read in "Fun and Games", he brings up the stabbing because it's relevant and then tries to brush it off a little by saying he had to force Stede to do it and calling Stede "fragile". He does not even allude to the intimacy of that moment and his own being vulnerable. Stede and Lucius are the only people Ed reveals those parts of himself to.

[moon-mage]

I'm sorry? Vil is a what in your au? I'm curious why he is an inmate.

Vil is going to have a whole arc about the hows and whys... But what I will share is that Vil is ACCORDING TO THE GOVERNMENT an inmate in S.T.Y.X. locked up on charges of murder during unauthorized use of his ultimate magic. BUT...he is actually out here being an entire vigilante. His alias is "The Poisonous Queen" but he also goes by "Schoenheit". He is considered a menace and threat by the Authorities...and NOT the one to fuck with in the underground/crime world.

I have a VERY specific scene in which Vil and Jamil meet...during a small gas station robbery (as civilians) where they basically beat some loser's ass together. Jamil then chases after Vil recognizing him as PUBLIC ENEMY NUMBER ONE and Vil is basically like 'nope, you haven't unlocked this part of the plot' and sleeps him. Vil and Jamil do have a bit of history...but it doesn't click for Jamil until later.

Vil also has this weirdo sidekick that be running around with him sometimes??? He calls himself the "Hunter of Love" and at first everyone was like what the fuck IS that...but his kill count is insane and he stans with the Queen so we don't fuck with this weird man. Why does he kinda sound like the weirdo medical examiner, Dr. Hunt? That's a weird coincidence?!? Wow. Legend has it the Hunter of Love just showed up one day and despite the Queen telling him to get lost he just stayed around...and so he never left his side...

Yeah, I can't help myself but be extra with Vil. I had the idea and it stayed so yep. So what about Leona in all this...?

Jamil: you gonna elaborate? Leona: uh. naw. not today.

Leona...knows. He very much knows. Leona and Vil have history too because like they're them. Leona is super aware of who the Poisonous Queen is but he doesn't know why he ain't in jail. He is high key not trying to care either.

Click here for the Detective!AU tag to see more of this mess! I should name is SOMETHING...ehhhh

[secretlysamcro]

Female reader x Jax teller MAJOR SPOILERS! Violence (pregnancy) & Explicit language If you're under the age of 18. haven't finished the show or dislike any of said topics, please read no further.

Request: "The reader is Jax’s old lady and an rival club finds this out and kidnaps the reader using her for lovage against the sons, the reader is pregnant and hasn’t told Jax yet and when he comes to save her she gets injured and taken to the hospital during that he’s finds out and they get to see the baby for the first time together"

Backstory: The tension between the club and the Irish has been brewing for weeks now. Jax pushing to sever all ties with the IRA. Jax is determined to do so in order to protect his club and his family, no matter the cost. Galen on the other hand, isn't ready to let go of the SAMCRO connection so easily. He needs Clay out of prison, and the only people he knows that will get it done is the Sons. He knows Jax won't help him willingly, but he knows the one thing that Jax would do anything for, is you.

“Just one more” he says his voice low and steady, hanging in the doorway like he doesn’t want to leave. His hand wraps around yours, brushing his rough thumb over your knuckles as he closes the space between you once again. The kiss slow and smooth, making it last.

“Jax, go” you laugh, shoving him away playfully, even though part of you wants him to stay. You know he needs to be at the clubhouse. There’s a lot of shit going on at the moment, but as his old lady, you’re only told the stuff he chooses to tell you, the rest is a mystery.

He grins, giving you one last look before jogging down the steps, his trainers thudding against the concrete. The roar of his Dyna filling the air as he takes off down the road.

Your hand drifts to your stomach, cradling the secret you’ve been carrying. The new life you’ve both created. Tonight was the night you were finally going to tell him.

You’d had your suspicions for a while, the doubt creeping in until that one morning when they were confirmed by the positive test. Even then, the shock hit you like a punch. For the most part, you wanted to run to Jax, to tell him right then and there, but you knew it wasn’t the right time. He’d been carrying so much on his shoulders lately, stress from the club, the Irish deal that seemed to be falling apart. The last thing he needed was more pressure.

“Yeah, I’ve got eyes on her now” one of Galen's men says, his Irish accent thick as ever. “I’m sure... he’s just left, she’s home al-...”

You step out of the house in your comfy sweats, car keys and phone in hand. You get into your car, sorting yourself out before starting the engine, completely oblivious to the eyes tracking your every move.

“...Change of plan boss, she’s on the move” He watches your car pull off, tracking your every turn as you head down the street.

Jax sits at the head of the table, the presidential gavel in hand. “All in favour of the Sons breaking ties with the IRA?” he announces, Chibs already shaking his head, aware of the storm brewing.

“This is a bad idea Jackie boy” the VP warns, his voice tight with concern. “Galen’s a bloody butcher, and the IRA? they aint letting us go that easy” he says, Jax shooting him a look as if to say ‘do what I fucking say’ Chibs, screws his face in stubbornness. “Aye” he reluctantly spits out.

Jax bangs the gavel as the vote comes in as a yes. The other members leaving the room, Chibs staying behind. His eyes fixed on Jax.

“This is the only way we get out of this cartel mess” Jax says, his voice firm, truly believing this is the right move.

Chibs crosses his arms, his gaze still steady. “I really hope you’ve got a plan, Jackie” he says, the weight of the situation hanging heavy in his words.

“They’ll have to do it” Galen speaks down the phone.

“He’ll do anything I need him to” he looks down to the floor, clearly frustrated “I’m getting him out...tomorrow” he says, before hanging up the phone.

“You really think the sons can pull this off?” Connor questions, his voice sounding doubtful, clearly concerned about where their ties land.

Galen looks him up and down, his gaze cold and calculating. “They don’t have much of a choice” he says, “but I don’t trust Jackson, not after what went down with Father Ashby, God bless his soul” he makes the sign of the cross as he continues speaking “I need Clay out, and I need him out, now”. “And when he gets out, what's his plan? You know the Sons aren't taking him back” Connor states, the doubtful tone still evident.

Galen glances towards him, the corners of his mouth tightening at the frequent questioning “Clay’s heading to Ireland, He’s planning to set up his own charter, make his own way” He then goes into his pocket, to grab the burner phone that’s ringing. “Aye” he says, answering the call.

“We’ve got her” the line hangs up.

Jax and the club are still at the clubhouse. Jax sits at the bar, Chibs beside him. A text flashes on his phone from a burner number.

Unknown Number: Meet @ warehouse 13.00 -G

Jax looks up, his eyes sharp. “Galen wants us at the warehouse. Be ready to move” he tells everyone, making sure they're all prepared.

“Aye, but what for Jackie?” Chibs questions, not realising they would be facing Galen again so soon.

“I guess we’re gonna find out” Jax mumbles as he begins to text, not Galen though, you.

Jax: Hey babe. b home later than I thought. wait up 4 me. love u.

The guys ride in one by one, Jax leading the way as always, followed by his VP and then the rest of the crew. The warehouse looks empty, spookily quite in fact. Until the doors groan open. Inside, Galen, Connor and a few more of the Irish stand waiting.

Jax steps forward, entering first. His voice laced with sarcasm. “And to what do I owe the pleasure?” The footsteps of the others following close behind.

Galen offers a distant nod, his smile stiff as usual. “Things have changed Jackson” he says, no trace of regret coming from him.

“Hey, if we’ve got some kind of beef lets throw it on the table” he says, his voice sharp.

Galen looks away, almost amused before responding “Don’t be so sensitive Laddy”

Jax snaps, “Grow some balls, you Irish prick” his tone, still unwavering. The others step closer, sensing something could potentially pop off at any given moment.

Galen pauses for a moment, then steps forward to Jax, the sound of his boots crunching against the gravel. “Alright” he says, “I think you’re arrogant, selfish and explosive...” he begins “...The wreckage you caused in Belfast got a man of God, and my dearest friend killed”

Jax frowns slightly, a confused look spreading across his face “You talkin’ about the priest?” he asks, genuinely puzzled.

“Aye” Galen nods, his voice sounding bitter. “Father Kellan Ashby pulled me off the streets, saved my life” each word dripping with resentment.

Jax smirks, the tension getting thicker. “Gave you the Catholic blessing of the blood...made you Gangsta�� of Christ?” he mocks.

Galen lunges forward, landing a punch directly above Jax’s eyebrow. The whole warehouse erupts into chaos as both sides rush to break them apart.

Jax still smirking as his adrenaline rises shouts “Now we’re making progress!” eager to keep the fight going. The men spill out into the open space in front of the warehouse. The fight continues, both men hitting and being hit, sweat and blood flying with every swing, neither backing down until finally the men watching, pull them apart.

Galen wipes blood from his lip, a twisted smile forming on his face as he looks over to Jax. “Oh, and by the way Jackson…” he says, his voice cold. “…Clay’s getting transported tomorrow. I need you and your club to stop that from happening, and bring him here, to me.” he demands his orders.

Jax laughs, spitting the leftover blood out from his mouth, the confusion spreading across all the faces present. “And why would I do that?” he responds, stunned by Galens audacity.

“Because Jackson...if you don't…” he pulls his phone out, unlocking it calmy before holding it up to show Jax. A woman sitting in a chair, her arms bound and her mouth gagged. The room goes still as Jax works out who the woman in the picture is. “…She dies”. Jax’s expression shifts, the gravity of the situation hitting him.

The air is cold, the darkness surrounds you. Your hands are bound, your mouth gagged as tears trickle down your face, silently sobbing.

Deep down, part of you knew this was always a possibility. Being the lover of the notorious Sons of anarchy president, could you expect any less?

Footsteps approach through the silence, growing closer with each step. Your heart beating in your chest as he comes into view. Sliding into your peripheral vision. His face, now inches from yours. His breath warm against your skin. A sharp calloused finger brushes away your tear. “Cut the shite” he growls, standing tall once again.

“Those tears mean nothing to me” he turns and leans casually against a desk directly across from you. His legs crossed and his arms folded to match.

In a desperate effort, you manage to wriggle the makeshift gag away from your mouth. “what... do you want...from me” you manage to wheeze out, your breathing laboured due to fear.

He stares at you, not a slither of sympathy in his eyes. “I don’t need shite from you” he says, pointing in your face. “It’s your pretty wee lad we’re after”.

"Please, don't hurt me...I'm...I'm pregnant" you practically cry out.

"Well then you better hope, Jackson, does what he's told"...

“You think this is gonna work Jax?” Juice’s voice echoes through the silence. Jax keeps his eyes on the the road, looking through the passenger side window, his jaw clenched. “We don’t have a choice” he wipes a hand across his face. The image of you alone, with the Irish, twists in his gut like a knife. “We stop the van, grab Clay, then hand him over to Galen. It’s that simple” he says, relaying the plan instructed by Connor.

The transportation van was forced off of the road, leaving slight chaos in it’s wake. Juice and Jax were in one van, with Bobby, Tig and Connor trailing close behind in the other. Together, they worked effortlessly, forcing the officers to surrender without much of a fight.

Jax, swinging open the vans back doors to reveal Clay, a slight confused look on his face. Jax takes off his ski mask, a smirk appearing as Clay squints up looking towards Jax, clearly not expecting him. “Where’s the Irish?” he says, realising this isn’t the original plan.

“No Irish” Jax replies, his jaw tense. “Just me”.

The job was done, more or less. The boys had managed to pull it off with only one minor hitch, Bobby had taken a bullet in the process. Jax though, is focused on what matters the most, The trade. Clay needed to be handed over to Galen without delay. Clay, for you.

Jax strides into the warehouse, the club reunited once again. He heads straight for the small office in the back with Chibs and Tig only, the others hanging around behind the door. Inside, Galen stands waiting wearing his usual cocky grin. Jax doesn’t even give him the chance to speak. “You’ll get Clay, when I get y/n” he growls, his voice cold but firm.

Galen smirks, clearly expecting some sort of demand from Jax. He gestures to another Irishman lurking in the corner. The man follows his silent order, slipping out of the room only to return moments later.

He shoves you roughly into the room, you stumble and slam your side into the edge of the cabinet. Jax moves instinctively, about to rush to your side.

“NO!” Galen barks, stopping him from getting any closer. “You’ve seen her, now I want Clay” he spits.

Jax, who’s teeth are snarled, turns around to Tig, giving him a nod. The command clear, go and get Clay. He then looks back to you, sensing the fear rushing through your body. His gaze softens, seeing you in pain, seeing you like this. Your face is bruised, blood smeared across your cheeks. His attention now drawn to how your hands are clutching your stomach protectively.

Tig returns quickly, bringing Clay into the room. The tension is thick as the exchange happens all at one. Clay stepping forward beside Jax, Galen's attention now shifting to him.

You waste no time, you bolt towards Jax, throwing yourself into him. He catches you holding you close, then pulling you away slighting holding onto your shoulders, scanning your entire body for any injuries. “Its okay, y/n” he murmurs, his voice close to a whisper. “I'm so sorry” he says, knowing this is all his fault.

Just behind you, Jax catches Galen's movement. He steps forward, probably about to make some smug comment about the deal, but Jax doesn't wait to find out. “Close your eyes” he whispers into your ear. You barely have time to react as Jax looks over to Chibs and Tig, the three of them exchanging a knowing glance.

Within a second, their guns are drawn. Jax keeps you tightly against him, his free arm acting as a barrier around you as he fires. His bullet lands dead Centre into Galen's forehead, Chibs taking down one Irishman, and Tig dropping the other. The crack of the gunfire makes you scream into Jax’s chest, muffling the sound. Your knees buckle as you drop to the floor. Jax lowering with you, pulling you even closer.

“Jesus christ” Clay mutters, looking around seeing Galen’s lifeless body stretched across the floor. Jax looks over to him. “We had a vote” he says coldly. “This needed to happen” Jax, finally one step closer to cutting ties with the true IRA.

Jax’s eyes catch the way your hand trembles as it moves between your legs. when you pull it away, blood covers your palm. His heart dropping to his stomach as panic flashes across his face. “Shit” he shouts out, looking around the room trying to make sense of the situation.

“Did she get shot?” Tig questions, also trying to work out the cause of the blood. You don't respond right away, staring at your bloodied hands. This was not how you wanted Jax to find out. Your gaze slowly shifting to Jax, the look in your eyes breaking his heart.

“The baby...” you whisper, your voice exhausted

Jaz freezes, along with everybody else in the room. The words replaying in his head. “The... baby?” he echoes, his voice hard to hear.

It’s not anger or frustration but complete shock. However, there's no time for questions. His protective instincts kicking in like a flip of a switch. Jax shouts for Rat, it takes seconds for him to enter. “I need you to take y/n to the hospital NOW!” his tone sharp and commanding.

Rat, looking around the room taking in what has just happened. “What about-” he’s cut short.

“I SAID NOW!” he takes a deep breath, steadying his anger "please, just go now call me when you get there, I’ll catch up”.

You cling to Jax’s kutte as he leans down, cupping your face with both hands. “you’re gonna be fine” he says, his voice steady, even though his heart feels like its ripping apart. He places a kiss to your forehead. “I have to deal with this, but ill be right behind you ok. I promise... I love you” He kisses you again, helping you off the floor and passing you over to Rat.

As Rat leaves with y/n the other members pile into the room. Clay’s eyes follow, a look of resignation spreading across his face. “I guess you had another vote I wasn’t privy to” a short smile plays on his lips, as he realises what's about to happen.

“Yeah, we did” Jax nods his head slowly. “This time it was unanimous” they stare at each other for a while, before Clay finally speaks.

“fair enough” the eye contact lingering on a little longer.

Clay steps back, not fighting it and completely expecting what's to come. He says nothing, just looks at Jax with a hint of understanding. He moves slowly to the other side of the room, bracing himself in the corner. “This good?” he questions, his voice low as he takes one last look at club he used to call family.

“Yeah” Jax says, no feelings in his words what so ever.

Chibs silently steps forward, loading the gun. He hands it to Jax, who takes it with steady hands. Without hesitation he raises the gun, firing one final shot, hitting Clay straight in the neck. Clay falling to his knees, the blood gushing out like a fountain, he's flat on the floor, the life draining from him.

Jax hands the gun back to Chibs. “I’ve got to go” he says, sounding urgent. “You got this?” he asks his VP, making sure that the rest of the plan plays out just as well. Chibs nods, already moving into motion.

As Jax makes his way to his bike, Connor approaches. “Galen still in there?” he asks, completely oblivious to the mayhem behind the doors. Jax’s lips curl into a smile, a darkness forming over him.

“Yeah. He’s not going anywhere” Without waiting for a response, he jumps on his bike, speeding off doing his best to catch up with Rat, y/n and his unborn child.

Jax’s heart pounds through his kutte covered chest, as he pulls into the hospital parking lot. The roar of his bike engine fading as he skids into park. He waste’s no time, pushing through the hospital doors with urgency, the sterile smell hitting him in the face.

His eyes scan through the reception. Rat, sitting nervously in one of the chairs, looks up as Jax approaches, his chest tight with worry.

“Where is she?” he demands to know, the anxiety creeping in.

Rat stands quickly, raising his hand in a calming gesture. “They took her in to check her over” the words rushing out but in a calming manor.

“She's fine, the baby...your baby is fine” he reassures Jax. The weight of those words hit Jax like a wave, for the first time in hours, he allows himself to breath. The tension in his body easing, as he lets out a long shaky breath.

Rat eyes Jax curiously, his expression cautious, not wanting to over step. “How did it go?”

Jax meets his gaze, his voice finally steady. “It’s done”. Rat nods, understanding exactly what Jax is saying, no need for a further explanation.

“The guys probably need you, take my bike, leave the van... and thank you Rat, for getting them here safe” Jax, pats Rat on the back.

Rat looks at Jax, blinking in disbelief. “wait... take your bike?” he repeats the words, unsure if he misheard. “Nobody rides your bike” he adds, still in shock.

A smile curls on Jax’s face, but the warning still stands true. “If you leave a single scratch on it, you’ll be meeting Mr. Mayhem next” he gives Rat a wink, masking the seriousness in his threat.

The gel that the nurse places on your belly is cold, sending an involuntary shiver down your spine. Your whole body aches, bruised from the events of earlier today. The relief however, over shadows the pain, you and the baby are fine and that’s all that matters. You try to focus on that, but your mind keeps drifting to Jax, wishing he was here with you.

Just as the thought crosses you mind, the door creaks open. You look up, and there he is, appearing in the doorway.

“Just in time” the sonographer smiles warmly.

“Hey Darlin” Jax murmurs to you, his voice steady with an apologetic look in his eyes. He slides into the chair next to you, leaning over kissing you softly on the lips. He lingers there for a moment longer, grounding himself in the reality that you’re both okay.

“okay, y/n are you ready?” The sonographers voice breaking the silence, her tone gentle as she prepares to scan you. She talks you both through what’s going to happen as she adjusts the machinery. You nod in response as Jax squeezes your hand, his eyes flicking between you, the sonographer and the monitor. His nerves still on edge, unsure of what to expect.

The room falls quiet as the sonographer moves the wand over your belly. The humming from the machine being the only present sound. Your focus shifting to the screen. A tiny unmistakable figure moving ever so slightly. “There’s your baby” she smiles, her presence warm.

“Oh my god” you sigh out, your hand moving to cover your mouth in disbelief. Jax is frozen, his eyes glued to the screen his grip on your hand tightens as it feels like the world has stopped spinning.

“Jax look” you say, looking over at him, admiration in your eyes. Jax is frozen, he blinks hard as his jaw tightens, his mood unreadable.“Jax?” you question, unsure of how he’s feeling.

His rough exterior begins to crack as he leans closer to the screen, his blue eyes shimmering with tears. “Jesus...” he mutters, as he wipes a tear falling down his cheek. He cracks a laugh in disbelief, returning the eye contact now. “That’s our baby” his vulnerable side now showing.

“From the measurements, I’d estimate you’re roughly 12 weeks, at the least” the sonographer speaks gently, her voice breaking into the emotion bubble you're both currently sat in.

“12 weeks” Jax repeats in a whisper, more tears slip down his face as he keeps wiping them away with the back of his hand.

It’s a lot to take in, everything that's happened in the last 48 hours crashing down on him at once. This wasn’t part of the plan, not at all. But as he stares between you and the little baby wriggling on the screen, his heart swells, a new level of protectiveness he has never felt before.

Jax holds the printed scan photo delicatley in one hand, holding you as delicatley around your waist with the other, as you make your way towards the van.

You glance around, noticing something is missing. “No bike?” you ask, confusion creasing your eyebrow.

Jax sighs, a small smirk growing on his lips. “I let Rat ride it back” he says, already regretting his decision

Despite everything thats happened, it’s as if this has shocked you the most. “you what?” you almost shout.

He shrugs, amused by your reaction. “Yeah, well desperate times babe. He knows what will happen if he messes it up” Jax reassures you, whilst trying to also reeassure himself.

You shake your head in disbelief , still trying to process what he’s just told you, as he helps you gently into the van.

The joy of the past hour almost made you forget what had happened earlier. But now, as you sit beside Jax in the van, it all comes rushing back.

The last time you saw him, he wasnt the man gently holding your hand like he is now. He was Jax, the president, Jax the outlaw, pulling the trigger without hesistation. You knew what he was capable of, but seeing it with your own eyes was a different feeling.

Jax notices the small shift in your demeanour and turns to you. “You okay?” he questions.

You nod, your voice on the verge of crying “Just... a lot to... take in” you manage to get out.

He sighs, squeezing your hand. “y/n I am so sorry you had to see that” he says quietly. “I didn’t want you too, but I had no choice” he reassures you, it wasn’t just for fun.

You look at him, his face so calm even though you know the burden he carries is much heavier than he ever lets on.

“I promise you, y/n. I’m getting us out of this” he looks upwards as if trying not to cry “I can’t ever have you, or our baby in a situation like that again… I don’t know what I’d do if…” he tries to catch a breath, you squeeze his hand as an act of comfort.

“I love you Jax, I love all of you, even the club” you breath out a small laugh, wanting him to feel secure. Even though deep down, the thought of your child growing up in this world makes you feel sick to your stomach.

“I love you too y/n, both of you” Jax smiles as he begins driving home, praying that the plan he set in motion, is enough to keep everyone safe.

Photos & gifs do not belong to me. Just edited them together.

Who rewatches scenes to fit them perfectly into their story plot? Yes, it’s me.

Pls pls pls send me some Jax requests, I love writing but when it comes to thinking of something to write, that’s where I go blank!

Jax Teller Masterlist

Also, thank you all so much for your comments & feedback, love u all 🫶🏽

[taeaura]

More TCM 2003/2006 Analysis because why not

TW: Yapping; Rape/Sa, Groping, Strong language, Gore, TCM-Canon-typical Violence

So I recently found deleted / extended scenes {Part 1 / Part 2 of 2006, 2003} which gave me more inspiration to write again! Analysis time 😈

_____

I first want to talk about the most forgotten member of the Hewitt family: Jedidiah. Poor sweet little Jedidiah, probably the most underrated and least-considered member of the Hewitt ‘clan’. From the clips shown in the video and the movie itself, we can infer that Jedidiah is left alone quite often. He’s also very aware of what goes on both in and outside the walls. Either the family doesn’t try to hide it from him or they’re doing a shit job at it. Even then, it’s kinda hard to hide things from independent children anyway. Jedidiah’s a very empathetic and artistic child who understands the Hewitt family values. I.E; the scene where he helps Erin and Morgan escape. Especially when he goes:

“Don’t hurt her! Please, Grandma!” - 2003, 1:06:48 

He looks so defeated after..poor baby. 

At around 1:12:40 when he’s urgently trying to get Erin and Morgan out of the basement via the tornado shelter exit {I think that’s what the structure is?}

“Go - Go now! Run! Faster, hurry! - Come on, don’t let him get you!”

“Go! I’ll be fine!” - 2003, 1:12:45 - 1:14:05 

And when he tries to bite Thomas’ hand to hold him back?? Poor baby. I’d also like to acknowledge how Thomas didn’t get physical with him , simply just shoved him off his hand and onto the sandbag. In the deleted scenes for 2003, he seems much happier when he gets to show Pepper his drawings; It seems he really needs attention that he isn’t getting at home. Maybe this is similar to how Thomas was raised, though I'm not sure. This is even more apparent when he says “You sure you’re not just saying that?” after Pepper compliments his drawing. He very clearly needs a form of guidance and support; Not only for his development but for his confidence. As I discussed in a previous post, Thomas also really enjoys praise, which he gets mainly from Hoyt. Speaking of Hoyt, there’s two possibilities {that I’ve come up with} for how Jedidiah came to be. 1.) Jedidiah is the product of rape, most likely the child of Hoyt and a victim. 2.) They ‘adopted’ him from a victim or some similar situation. Not much evidence as to his origins, but we can theorize. 

____

Moving on to Hoyt; the ‘head’ of the family. In the extended scenes for The Beginning 2006, we get to see an even more aggressive and short-fused side of Hoyt. He yells more often, he’s more violent, and he’s definitely more ‘hands-on’....yay for us. At around 3:20 in this video, as he’s going to ‘attend’ to Bailey’s injuries, he discreetly gropes her, specifically groping her breast whilst repeating ‘I ain’t gonna hurt you.” Yeah, okay, pal.  And then he LICKS THE GLASS HE JUST PULLED OUT OF HER?? He also really doesn’t like the victims; Like. At all. He’s definitely lustful over Bailey, but he doesn’t like how ‘smart’ she gets at times. I.E; “Is having a dead biker chick ride shotgun proper police procedure, sir?” Now, in this video we get to see the more hostile version of Hoyt. Imagine his regular persona x2. At around 0:45 he pulls Dean’s head up by his hair and starts yelling is his face;

“You fucking idiot! I just told you we had to eat! Ain’t you listening to me?” 

This tells us two things: One, Hoyt really doesn’t like when his authority is challenged via questions, lack of interest, or defiance. Two, he really doesn’t like talking about his time in the war. It’s a traumatic near-death experience which is definitely a soft spot for him. I doubt having to dwell on it, much less repeat it over and over again to someone he already hates is easy. Following that tangent, he quickly switches to his condescending ‘I’m just trying to help’ bullshit. Specifically at 1:09;

“Now what happens if you kids drive all the way up to Austin just to find out that you don’t even qualify to be in the Army? I’m concerned about your physical fitness here.”

I’ve also noticed that Hoyt gets real up-close n’ personal when he’s being condescending. Connect this with the moment he ties up and chokes Bailey; We can see Hoyt really likes showing not only his mental dominance, but his physical as well. Now, Hoyt is 6 feet, that’s tall. Compared to Thomas? That’s 5 inches shorter, and at maybe half or ⅗ of the weight. {I headcanon Thomas at around 330/320.} Hoyt sure as hell feels intimidated by Thomas physically. Mentally? Nah, probably not. He knows he could manipulate Thomas one way or another. 

Now; I’d like to focus on how Hoyt treats the family. He rarely if ever gets fussy with them to the extent of the victims. In the 2006 deleted scenes, at around 5:54 - 6:20, Hoyt never yells at Luda Mae and corrects himself when she scolds him. As she raises her voice, he gets fed up but never yells, only says;

“God damnit, Momma, let me handle this.”

He’s stressed, she’s most definitely stressed, and he feels the need to control everything to manage it. His speech at 2:01 of the 2006 extended scenes part 1 is very loving coming from him. He’s trying to reassure his family that everything will be fine whilst also shit-talking the ‘enemy;’ Further isolating them from civilization which they’ve only known to be a negative. He also calmly tries coaxing / ordering Thomas in for supper as opposed to yelling at him. He definitely switches between Hoyt and Charlie around his family; Even though he keeps Hoyt as the ‘default’ to remain in power {which is his source of comfort}, he lets Charlie slip through when it’s needed. 

____

Now for everyone’s favorite big boy; Thomas <3. The extended scene in part 2 {0:00 - 0:30} when Bailey see’s him and just starts screaming {rightfully so, she’s terrified}. Thomas is just standing there, fidgeting with his hands like 🤨/😐 - I know bro was reliving some school / work trauma. Seeing him fidget and doing what’s called ‘T-rex arms’ makes me think he’s neurodivergent. Obviously that’s not the only thing, I’ve been thinking he’s autistic specifically for a while now {Me pushing my autism onto a character} but it fits, no? {Maybe I'll do a post talking about his neurodivergence, idk} And he looks so overwhelmed during the dinner / Hoyt’s speech scene {In the extended scenes part 1.} OH! And ESPECIALLY when Hoyt brings him down to the basement at 37:40 in The Beginning 2006. He looks so overwhelmed and possibly terrified? When you brighten the scene, his expression is much easier to see {I’ll put a picture / gif below}. I think it’s safe to assume Thomas was a bit reluctant to continue as Hoyt had to coax him;

“Come on, Tommy, ain’t no different than the slaughterhouse. Meat’s meat; Bone’s bone. Get it done.”

I think Thomas really only got comfortable with the new lifestyle after he used it as an artistic outlet. Especially when he got to ‘experiment’ on Eric. I’ve seen multiple people use this scene as a means to say Thomas is gay. And listen, I don’t necessarily disagree, I don’t think he’s completely straight either {Reminder, any character that’s sexuality isn’t confirmed means that labeling them as ‘straight’ is a headcanon too!} I just think there’s more to work with here. I myself have struggles with my sexuality, specifically with how I view women. I’m not trying to push this onto Tommy, I just see potential similarities. I think Thomas was definitely envious of Eric, therefore, taking his face and ‘becoming’ something similar to him was a way to hide himself and present in a more ‘attractive way.’ I think he’s attracted to men, but his attraction is either masked or based on the idea of being like them. Eric has a life with such intense purpose. An army veteran {returning as well} with a partner, good family dynamic, and a friend group? ONTOP of being attractive and fit? Oh, hun, you know Thomas was yearning right there. He just wants to be good enough. I mean, really really, good enough. I don’t know why, but my brain automatically went to ‘he wants to become and consume Eric.’ As in, he’s attracted to the idea of being {like} Eric; As well as being attracted to Eric. I don’t know how to communicate this properly so I hope you get what I’m putting down.

___

Again, apologies for my long incoherent rants; I have so many ideas that I want to share

Much love, 🫀

[mllemaenad]

This argument. This argument is the crux of the whole thing. Cailan is trying to score points off Loghain, and it's going to get everyone killed.

Cailan will not wait for Eamon's forces, even though everyone keeps telling him he could have backup within a week. But he will wait for the Orlesians, if Loghain admits that they can't win without them.

Cailan is very much seeking an alliance with Orlais. We have letters confirming that. It's even suggested (and Eamon is pushing for this) that Cailan should divorce his wife, Loghain's daughter, in order to secure his dynastic future.

Now, Cailan's enthusiasm for ditching Anora does not seem to be strong, and Empress Celene seems aware that "manipulation" on her part would not have been well received by the Fereldan people. But this was Celene's intention in communicating with Cailan. She says so herself.

Celene had once, in her younger years, hoped to do through marriage what Meghren and his aprocryphal mabari had failed to do by force. With the strength of Ferelden behind it willingly, the Orlesian Empire would have had the power to drive back Nevarran aggression and even give Tevinter pause. – Dragon Age: The Masked Empire

So, yes, whether or not marriage ends up being part of the deal (and if it is, that's a very personal insult to Loghain's family), Loghain is not wrong to suspect that Cailan is, in some sense, inviting the Orlesians in to stay.

He's also got solid grounds to be suspicious of Orlesian "assistance" in the face of a Blight. This would not be the first time they used Blight as an excuse to move their troops into foreign territory and occupy it: they did it to the Nevarrans in the Third Blight.

And Loghain's hatred of the Orlesians is ... honestly, completely reasonable. He lost both parents to the occupation, as well as his land. Occupation-era Loghain was very literally a homeless person. The Meghren Celene referenced above was a deeply incompetent ruler with an insatiable cruel streak. He should never have been given the job of ruling Ferelden regardless of who had conquered it, but honestly the then emperor was also of dubious competence and needed Meghren out of the way for a bit so ... that's how these things go.

Would Celene, then, have betrayed and occupied Ferelden? I mean ... probably not? She prefers to work through diplomacy, and conquest isn't the primary goal of her rule. If signing a treaty, or contracting a marriage, works ... yeah, she'll do that. But one thing The Masked Empire makes clear is that Celene's principles are only as solid as her seat on the throne is secure. If one of her rivals generated enough support for an invasion to be a threat to her rule ... yeah, she'd screw the Fereldans over.

She probably still wouldn't put someone like Meghren in charge of it, no, but Ferelden would still lose its independence mere decades after it had regained it.

And even if they went the marriage route ... well, that's just a different way of getting absorbed into the empire.

So this argument has fuck all to do with the Blight, and the battle itself is being used to score points. Cailan thinks he's got Loghain cornered.

If Loghain says "Cailan, we absolutely cannot win this. We will die. We need to wait for reinforcements." Well! Then Loghain cannot possibly object when the Orlesians show up. He'll just have to put up with Cailan making whatever alliance he likes, because he was the one who said they needed help.

If Loghain says they don't need the Orlesians ... well, the darkspawn situation can't be that serious, can it? Because the only help he's willing to wait for is Orlesian help. Fereldan reinforcements are off the table, because they don't score him any points in this stupid game.

Cailan isn't worried, because it never occurs to him that Loghain would work outside the options laid out before him. And that ... does make some sense, because he has known Loghain since childhood, and he trusts him. But he does not understand the buttons he is pushing right now, nor take into account that Loghain is, first and foremost, a tactician. A tactician who fucking hates Orlesians.

So my level of fury at this cannot be understated:

And look, to be fair, I'm sure the writers would say that this does not discount any of the above. It would simply explain why Loghain was vulnerable to this "guidance".

But slapping something stupid on top of something cool still diminishes it, even if it doesn't outright destroy it.

I have never wanted the whispers of shadowy cabals with mildly antisemitic (I'm going to hopefully assume unintentional) connotations to enter a story less than I do here. It's gross, and it adds nothing of interest to a genuinely fascinating story that already exists.

It's also pretty damn rich to completely exclude the worldstates of the previous games, destroy the south so you don't have to deal with it, and then claim all of those events were somehow integral to a master plan set to be revealed in some future game.

I'm not going to sit and defend all of Loghain's actions. Some of them, at least, are inexcusable. But he doesn't deserve this bullshit.

[lyraa-kill]

Sick and Twisted Bastard

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 l Chapter 5

Tags: Stalker Simon "Ghost" Riley, Trans John “Soap" MacTavish, Top Simon "Ghost" Riley, Bottom John "Soap" MacTavish, Dom Simon “Ghost" Riley, Sub John "Soap" MacTavish, Stalking, Consensual Non-Consent, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Masturbation, Vaginal Fingering, johnny can't make himself cum, Kidnapping, Knives, John is okay with Simon's stalking, John is a little freak too, Voyeurism, Hidden Cameras, Bondage, Vaginal Sex, Oral Sex, Cunnilingus, Spanking, Painplay, Internalized Transphobia, Self-Harm, Murder, They really match each others freak, Squirting and Vaginal Ejaculation, Biting, pussy slapping, Face Slapping, Blood, Choking

——

John is disoriented when he wakes up, his head pounding. He lays there for a few moments, drifting somewhere between consciousness and unconsciousness, aware of himself but also not aware. As he slowly becomes more and more awake, the pounding ceasing, he begins to remember.

But… no, that can’t be right. It can’t be. He was just dreaming. He had to be. Weird fuckin’ dream though, but with the way John’s dreams have been heading lately, he’s not surprised.

He was just dreaming of Simon showing up at his house in the middle of the night and putting a rag over his mouth.

Wasn’t he?

It’s then that he notices a strange weight on his chest. His eyes flutter open, the first thing they see being a mop of blonde hair. Then, he notices that this isn’t his bed. Isn’t his room, even. He tries to move his arms so he can sit up, but then he finds he can’t move them.

John is wide awake now, his eyes snapping fully open and looking around the room in panic. He looks above him, seeing his hands are chained to a thick, sturdy metal bedframe. He yanks against his restraints, but it’s no use. The chain linking his hands together is thick, the cuffs around his wrists tight. He’s not going anywhere.

He looks back down at the man sleeping on his chest. Is that… Simon? John hasn’t ever seen his face, doesn’t know what he looks like besides his eyes, mouth, and chin, but he… his dream. It wasn’t a dream, was it? Simon kidnapped him. And now here he was, asleep on top of his restrained form wearing nothing but his fucking underwear.

Even worse, Simon is fucking handsome . So much better than the face he conjured up in his mind for him. It makes Johnny’s heart pound, his mind swoon. He pushes these thoughts from his mind. He can’t dwell on that right now.

“Wake up!” John shouts, yanking at his cuffs so the metal clangs together and makes a loud banging sound, “God damnit you sick and twisted fuckin’ bastard, wake the FUCK UP!”

Simon groggily lifts his head up, squinting at John. That fucker just smiles and lays his head back down. “‘M still tired, Johnny. Gi’ me five, yeah?”

John shifts his lower body and starts to kick Simon incessantly. “What the FUCK did you do? WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU DO?!”

Moving to sit up now, Simon looks annoyed and slightly pissed. “D’ya have to yell so early in the morning? Can’t we just go back to sleep, baby?”

John looks at him with a look of wild, angry confusion. The fantasy he had in his head of when Simon called him that for the first time was nothing like this.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” John laughs, fury dripping from his voice, “I guess I’ll just wait to get angry over the fact YOU KIDNAPPED ME! What the FUCK, Ghost!”

Smiling, Simon reaches a hand out and cups Johnny’s cheek, rubbing the space beneath his eye just as he did the night before, when John was sleeping. “This is for the best, Johnny. I had to do this, yeah? You were so miserable, crying to yourself every night. Hurting yourself. I can’t let my perfect little boy feel that way. You’ll be happier here, with me looking after you, keeping you safe. Don’t you agree?”

John isn’t sure his body is capable of feeling any more emotions all at once than he’s feeling right now. Anger, confusion, shock, fear… and he doesn’t want to admit it, but a little flattered and happy as well. It’s all mudding up his mind, making him unable to think clearly. He can’t even get his words out. He just looks at Simon like a deer caught in headlights.

Simon runs his hand down Johnny’s face, over his neck, across his chest, down his torso, resting on his waist. “Been watching you. All the time, Johnny. All the time . I’ve been watching you so much, I think I know you better than you know yourself.” He trails his hand back up, then down, caressing John’s golden skin. “I know you cry every night. Know you hit yourself, cut yourself where you think no one can see it. But I see it, I see it all . I know you’re miserable, feeling worthless all the time. Scared. Not able to trust people, let them get close. You’re scared they’ll treat you just how your father did, right? Hit you, degrade you, abuse you…”

How- how does Simon know all this? He’s never told anyone these feelings before, never let anyone see or even know about the cuts on his thighs. Never confided in anyone about what his dad did to him, what the kids at school did. What did Simon do ?

“It’s gonna be alright, baby. I got you now, yeah? I’ll keep you safe. I won’t let anyone get close enough to hurt you ever again. I’ll make all those bad feelings go away for you, but I couldn’t do that when we were on base. I could barely keep you safe, let alone make you feel better, help you heal. That’s why I had to take you here. This is our home now, okay? A home just for you and me. It’s only goin’ to be us here, forever . You want that, don’t you Johnny?”

John shakes his head. “You- You can’t just- You can’t just decide that shit for me, L.T! I’m a grown man and I get to decide what I do and if something’s making me unhappy or not! God, I can’t- I can’t BELIEVE you!”

He’s thought about it before. About Simon whisking him away from that life, taking him somewhere nice and safe, a place where he’s not on edge all the time. A place he can finally relax, where he can figure out who John MacTavish is without the interference of what his father, his mother, the government, is telling him who John MacTavish should be. But, fuck- in his dreams it was his choice when he got to leave, for how long, how . Simon took that autonomy away from him, just like his decisions were taken away from him when he was growing up.

Simon sighs. He wraps his arms around Johnny’s middle, pulling him close. John doesn’t bother to stop him, telling himself that it’s pointless, but deep down it’s because he wants Simon to hold him. Fuck, he’s so angry at him right now, so upset, but all he wants is comfort from the man, the very thing making him upset. He’s fucking sick.

“I’m sorry baby,” Simon says into John’s chest, “I know it’s wrong. I know that I’m a horrible person for this. I just- this was the only way. Confessing to you, building a relationship with you, discussing how to leave for some place better… it would’ve taken too long. Something might’ve happened to you during all that, and I couldn’t let that happen. I had to take you.” Simon takes a deep breath in, his voice shaky with nervousness as he prepares to say the three words he’s been longing, yearning to say for months. “I love you. I love you so much, Johnny. I couldn’t let you be miserable anymore. I had to bring you here, where you can be all mine, where I can make you safe and happy.” He looks up at John through his blonde eyelashes. “Do you hear me, Johnny? Ya listening? I love you .”

John sucks his breath in and bites his lip. Fuck. He’s been waiting for Simon to say those words for ages, dreaming about it late at night when he cries, when he smiles and laughs, when he has his fingers buried in himself.

Maybe he’s insane, but he understands. He can almost perfectly see Simon’s train of thought. The feeling of wanting to do anything you can to make the one you love happy, even if they think they don’t want it. The feeling of knowing better, exactly how to care for someone else if they would just let you. He knows how Simon feels, because he’s felt the same way. He always felt the man was too strung up, too tense, too on edge all the damn time. He wished he could do more for him, take him somewhere nice where he could relax. Where he didn’t have to be this weapon called Ghost, where he could be Simon. And John didn’t have to be Soap, he could be Johnny. Simon’s Johnny.

But- fuck. This is a hell of a way of going about it.

John closes his eyes, takes a deep breath in, then sighs. “Fuck, I’ve thought about us getting together, leaving the military, getting a home of our own. I just… fuck, this is all so sudden. It’s fucking crazy, you know that right? It’s fucking mental . This ain’t normal, Ghost. It’s not healthy.”

Simon shakes his head, burying it deeper into Johnny’s chest, breathing in his scent. “I’m not a normal man, you know this. Everything I did, this is my love for you. Everything I do is only because I love you so much, Johnny. I just don’t want you to be taken from me, like… like everything else. Can you forgive me? I- I just love you so much. Please forgive me.” His voice breaks towards the end.

Simon’s heart is cracking a little bit at the idea that he’s making his Johnny, his world, unhappy. The monster inside him is clawing at his insides, wanting him to destroy, to hurt, to kill , do anything that will take his pain and self-loathing out of himself, turn it into something physical he can crush and make go away.

John’s heart is breaking a bit too. Simon sounds so broken and helpless, like a hurt little kid. He doesn’t know what happened to him, why he’s so dark and twisted, why he never lets anyone get close. But he wants to know. He wants to know Simon , not Ghost, and make all his pain go away. Maybe he’s more like his lieutenant than he thought.

He really does love him. He really, truly does.

“Fuck…” John sighs, “‘Course I can. I love you too, you know? I understand. I’m angry at you, but I’ll be able to forgive you. Ya know I can’t stay mad at ya L.T.”

Simon finally releases the tears he’s been holding back. He feels like he’s been waiting his whole life to hear those words from John. For barely a second, he can feel the creature inside him start to fade, leaving only Simon Riley left. For just a second.

“Say it again, please,” Simon stammers.

“I love you, Simon.” John says, “I love you so much, Simon Riley. I may be pissed as all hell right now, but I love ya. I’ll say it as many times as you want.”

He’ll be able to forgive him. One day he knows he’ll enjoy living here, not dealing with a care in the world. He’ll probably even thank Simon for doing this, doing what was right even if it hurt a little bit at first.

Maybe he’s also a little sick and twisted. Sure, kidnapping him was a little crazy. But John is a little crazy too.

Simon cries into Johnny’s chest for a little bit, keeping the man in a tight bear grip like he’s afraid of him slipping away.

John wishes he could comfort him, run a soothing hand down his back or in his hair, but he’s still bound. Instead, he just tilts his head down and presses his forehead against Simon’s hair, whispering to him that it’s alright, that he’s not a bad person, that his Johnny loves him back.

After a while, Simon tilts his head up. Tears still cling to his eyelashes, but he’s stopped crying. As he looks up at John, he smiles. John smiles back. Simon slowly moves their faces closer, their lips brushing against each other. John’s breath hitches, and his eyes flutter shut as he gets rid of the remaining distance between them and connects their lips.

The kiss is slow at first, barely any movement between them. Steadily, it picks up the pace, until they’re kissing softly, lips and the occasional tongue brushing together. Simon grips onto Johnny’s waist and deepens it, shoves his tongue into John’s mouth and kisses him with passion, fury.

Simon break them apart, mumbling into John’s lips, “Let me show you how much I love you, baby.”

John’s eyebrows furrow. “Whaddya mean, Simon?”

Simon climbs on top of Johnny and straddles his hips, his very erect package straining through the fabric of his boxers. John’s eyes go wide.

“Simon, I- I don’t know if that’s a good idea right now, I don’t- I don’t wanna do that just yet, yeah? We will, I promise, just not now, ‘kay?”

John is a virgin. He was always too scared, too ashamed to try and have sex. Not that he ever had the opportunity. No one up until Simon had seen him that way. He doesn’t want to do something to frightening right now, he wants to cuddle with Simon and be domestic, give it some time to get himself completely comfortable before they have sex.

Simon shakes his head. “I’ve been waiting for so long Johnny. I need this. I know you do too. I know you haven’t been able to make yourself cum, know how pent up you are. I’ll fix it. I’ll make you feel so good, baby.”

Fuck , just how much does Simon know?!

He snickers. “I know so much about you baby. I watched you every night you thought you were alone in your room, touching yourself. Ravaging yourself for hours, breaking into tears eventually because you couldn’t cum.” He smiles even wider as John’s shocked expression. “That teddy bear I gave you was special, baby. It had a camera in there, so I could watch you when you were in your room. And you were such a good boy, aiming it right at your bed. Gave me such a good view.”

John’s blood runs cold. Simon had seen that? Fuck, fuck… icy panic runs through him. This isn’t normal. This isn’t healthy, isn’t right, isn’t something a normal person does when they’re in love. He was wrong before. He shouldn’t entertain this, he should push his feelings for Simon down and run for the fucking hills. What kind of man is Simon that he’s willing to rape someone he claims to love even though they’re begging him not to? This isn’t love. It isn’t. It can’t be. He needs to get out of here.

But he can’t. He can’t run, can’t even defend himself, and he’s about to get raped because of it. He could deal with the kidnapping, recognize that he probably needed it somehow, but not this. He doesn’t need this. This is Simon being purely selfish.

“Simon, fuck, we can talk about this, okay? Don’t… don’t do this just yet. I’m not ready.”

Simon shakes his head. “I know you are, Johnny. You can’t lie to me. I won’t fuck you yet, but I have to show you just how much I care. I have to show you just how much I want you. You’ll forgive me right?”

John shakes his head, “Simon, please -”

Simon leans over John’s form and crashes their lips together, one of his hands harshly gripping Johnny’s face to keep him still. This kiss isn’t soft and sweet like it was before, it’s harsh, violent even. John doesn’t like it. He wants it to stop.

He bites down hard on Simon’s lip, but it doesn’t faze the man at all. He bites down even harder, the taste of blood coating his mouth, and still Simon doesn’t stop.

Instead, that sick and twisted bastard smiles as he pulls away. “I know you like it rough, baby,” he says, his voice a grumbly, icy chill, “I like it that way too.”

John’s body is flung into panic mode now, and he’s kicking and twisting, screaming, trying to do anything to get Simon to stop. He can’t believe this is happening, no, it can’t be. This can’t be real. He’ll wake up in his bed in his apartment soon, and mutter to himself about what a weird dream he had. This can’t be about to happen to him.

Simon presses down on John’s body, crushing him, forcing him to still. He furrows his brows and leans over Johnny again, grabbing something from the nightstand. Two more cuffs.

Fuck, Johnny knows what that’s going to be used for. He tries to fight back, kick before he knows he won’t be able to, but Simon is quick and strong, gripping his ankle and quickly fastening it to one of the bedposts. The other one is strung up soon enough, his body now only capable of twitching and squirming, no major movement.

Tears are running down John’s face now. “Simon, I don’t want this! Are you listening to me? I don’t fucking want this! You’re hurting me!”

Simon snaps his gaze to John’s crying face. “‘M not hurting you, Johnny. I would never do that. I’m helping you, okay? I’m making you feel good. You’ll realize that soon.”

He grabs the crotch hole in John’s boxers and rips, his underwear turning to shreds and being flung from his body. Any resistance John shows is barely noticeable.

Simon gently runs his hands up and down Johnny’s sides, gently massaging him. His hands then make their way between John’s legs, feeling up his cock, his slicked up hole.

He smiles. “You’re so wet for me baby. I thought you said you didn’t want this?”

John shakes his head, screwing his eyes shut. Why is his body betraying him? He really doesn’t want this, would give anything for it to stop, but his body won’t listen. He can feel himself getting more aroused as Simon keeps touching him, his cock starting to throb and slick pouring out of his cunt.

Does he… does he actually want this? No. No- he doesn’t. He doesn’t . But if he doesn’t, then… why does it feel so good?

Simon keeps up with his teasing, his thumb circling his throbbing cock as two fingers circle around the entrance of his hole, threatening to plunge inside. John bites his lip to hold back his noises, not wanting to encourage Simon any further.

Simon is smiling to himself. He knew his Johnny was lying to him. His boy wants him so bad that he’s shaking and holding back his noises after only a few teasing touches. He slips a finger inside, relishing in the way John lightly gasps as he does so, his eyes snapping open.

“How long has it been since you last came, baby?” Simon asks, his voice deep and rumbly, more like the monster inside than himself.

John shakes his head, refusing to answer. Simon sighs. His boy is going to need some encouragement.

“I said,” he growls, roughly pinching Johnny’s cock between his thumb and forefinger, “How long has it been since you came, Johnny?”

John gasps in pain, electric shocks coursing through his body. “Fuck- Simon- fuck, shit- Oh- fuck fuck fuck-”

“Tell me and I’ll stop, baby.”

“I don’t know!” John shouts, “Months! It’s been- fuck- a while!”

Simon stops, his gentle and loving touches coming back. He tuts. “That’s no good. I gotta take care of you, make sure you’re satisfied, not all pent up and frustrated. I’m just taking care of you baby, can’t you see that?”

John breathes rapidly, the aftershocks of the pain still coursing through his body, mixing in with the pleasure he’s now being given. Simon dips two fingers in him, gently digging their way deeper and deeper and prodding at all the sensitive spots inside him.

Johnny isn’t sure why he hasn’t been able to cum. He’s tried, really he has. He fingered himself for hours, rode a dildo for an obscene amount of time, used a fully charged vibrator until it died. He just can’t quite make himself tip over the edge.

Maybe it’s because he was thinking of Simon every time, the way he would look on top of him, thrusting into him without mercy. Choking him, spitting on him, tugging at his hair, biting, hitting, slapping, fucking him. Maybe his body knew that it wasn’t enough, that he needed his Simon. That Simon is the only one that can make him feel good.

Maybe his body already knew that he belonged to Simon, and was just waiting for his mind to realize it.

Simon picks up his pace now, thrusting his fingers in and out as he prods at Johnny’s gspot. He smiles as he watches his boy come undone beneath him, so much sweeter than he thought it would be.

“You don’t have to be ashamed for wanting me, Johnny, for wanting this,” Simon softly says, “There’s no reason to be ashamed. You can be honest with yourself.”

John can’t say anything back, can only nod as he throws his head back in a silent scream. Fuck, he is ashamed, really doesn’t want this still, but it feels so good and he’s been waiting for this for fucking months. He’s been waiting to feel Simon’s fingers since the day he met him and saw how large his hands were.

Even though Simon is doing this to him, John still trusts him. He knows now he’s only doing this because he loves him so much, cares for him more than anyone else ever has. He’s the only one that’s ever felt that way towards Johnny.

Simon would never hurt him, right? That’s why he brought him here, to this place. To keep him safe. To care for him, love him, dote on him, in a way nobody else has. Maybe John should just give in, finally admit to himself just how much he likes this, beg Simon to keep going until he finally cums. There’s no reason to be ashamed over wanting the man he loves to make him feel good, yeah?

Simon isn’t being selfish or cruel. He’s helping Johnny. He’s giving him what he needs, even though Johnny thought he didn’t.

Johnny bites his lip and mumbles something.

“What is it, baby?” Simon says, not slowing his pace to let Johnny get his words out clearly.

“P-please, make me cum, Simon,” Johnny begs, trying to spread his legs even wider.

Simon smiles, wicked and dark. “I knew you’d come around, baby. Fuck, that makes me so happy.” He quickens to a brutal pace now, absolutely tearing Johnny up. “I’ll make you cum, baby, don’t worry. I’ll take care of you.”

Only a few seconds later and Johnny is moaning so loud it’s a scream, letting loose a string of curses and Scottish nonsense Simon doesn’t understand. Johnny squirts so hard it splatters against the wall, drenching Simon’s face, torso, and arm completely.

“There you go, baby,” Simon praises as he helps Johnny through his orgasm, “Knew ya could do it. Goooood fucking boy.”

Johnny sinks into the bed, his eyes half-lidded, a goofy smile on his face as he looks up at Simon.

He can’t believe he thought he didn’t want that.

Simon smiles at Johnny, then leans down and gives him a soft yet fierce kiss on his plush lips. “Let’s get you cleaned up and get some breakfast in you, sweet boy.”

Johnny cocks his head. “What about you, Simon? I can make you cum too.”

Simon shakes his head. “I’ll be fine, don’t worry about me baby.”

Simon unlocks Johnny, massages his sore ankles and wrists, then picks him up and carries him to the bathroom to run him a nice hot bath.

[bacchuschucklefuck]

caps from comic Im doing

[her-soliloquies]

What a time to be alive!

If all of this happened just because Bradley was swinging his bat like it was a sword and the fact that he still REMEMBERS then I'm gonna bloody scream–

[fvckw4d]

The concept of queerbaiting annoys me. I was told that it refers to a work of fiction pretending to cater to a queer audience but then pulling back from it to avoid alienating homophobes, which is an incredibly specific thing. But a lot of people seem to think that it instead means "any time there's any gay subtex, metaphor, or ambiguity" or "whenever something from 1995-2012 was being a normal amount of homophobic for the era."

[theartinmyheart]

🩵🩵🩵

[my-thoughts-and-junk]

finished helluva boss and now i have Thoughts

[un-pearable]

oh yeah saw blue beetle last night and one million thumbs up. going into having heard it’s very tokusatsu and comic booky made it one million times better. goofy and stupid in fun ways. i’m so glad we’ve looped back around to comic book movies being like comic books: confusing chronologically and catered to fans willing to put up with wildly specific nonsense. also heck of a great job making a movie about gentrification and colonization out of the chaos of blue beetle lore and corporate blandification i genuinely had fun

[bbeelzemon]

okay first of all was anyone going to tell me that ac/dc is an australian band. and second of all was anyone else going to tell me that they're apparently colloquially referred to as "acca dacca" in australia

[snorlaxlovesme]

finally finished s4 of bungo stray dogs today and i really think that magic page/book is perhaps the greatest macguffin of all time. like this show is SO batshit insane with random and DRASTIC changes in tone and focus and all of that can just be neatly explained away if the finale of the entire show is written well. like they really just need to explain that WHOOPSIE someone’s seven year old niece who’s fascinated in mystery novels got a hold of the most powerful magical item in the world and has been writing the loosest definition of a “narratively sound” detective book in the world in crayon and the whole thing has been coming true. 

[euclydya]

i am surw we've said this before but hannibal would absolutely kill me for food crimes and that's hilarious. love that 4 me