grim bastards

Late night Doodles: Ronald Knox 

I still have to wait till I don’t even know when to watch “ Book of Atlantis”. But, I read the manga and this is my favorite arc and Ronald along with Lizzy, Grell and of course the Undertaker were the best thing about it. 

2

°Jax cheats on you.

When getting together with Jackson Teller, I was told to watch myself.

“He’s trouble.”

“A liar.”

“A cheating scumbag.”

I should have listened, but I’m the type of person to give someone the benifit of the doubt.

I know what it’s like when people say shit about you and spread lies so people look at you like an outcast. It’s not the greatest feeling in the world.

When Jax and I first got together, it was great. He was attentive, caring, loving…

I’d heard about how his wife, Tara was murdered by his mother, but I still didn’t let that bother me.

I would go with Jax to put flowers on her grave and even while he was too busy with club business, I’d go out and keep her grave cleaned up.

As we hit our 2 year anniversary, things started to change. He was still kind and loving, but he began to grow distant.

Jax never lost his temper with me, but I could see in the way he carried himself that it just seemed like a chore to him now to come home to me.

Our sex life was barely nonexistent. I knew how his stamina was and before it was nearly a 2 time a day thing for us.

What really made it take a nose dive, was the recent trouble the club was getting into. He use to confide in me, but that stopped as well.

Worried and wanting to get to the bottom of this as calmly as possible, I went to the clubhouse.

Right away, I could feel that something wasn’t right.

I made my way to Jax’s dorm and let myself in.

Jax lay there in bed, a cigarette in his hand. The sheet covered him from the waist down.

Clothes were strewn all over the room. A bra, panties and dress at the end of the bed.

He looked at me, guilt written on his face.

I could feel my resolve breaking, but I didn’t want to let him see me fall apart.

The bathroom door opened, a porn star from Redwoody standing there.

“Your stuff will be on the porch.” I said, stiffly.

Turning, I left as quick as possible… he didn’t even call out to me as I was leaving.

Things were truly over between us.
°°°°°°
In record time, I had Jax’s belongings boxed up and sitting outside on the porch.

I hadn’t even cried any, which I found strange.

Jax came in the house, his head hung low.

“Get your stuff and leave.” I told him.

“I’m sorry.” He said, looking up at me.

I snorted, “Please, spare me the apologies. You’re just sorry that you got caught, plain and simple.”

He rolled his head, tears filling his eyes.

I’m sure this is how he was with Tara, but I wasn’t going to stoop that low and say that.

He made me mad… pissed me off to no extent and I couldn’t hold it in any longer.

“After everything I’ve done for yo-” I choked up and it made me even more pissed.

Jax’s bottom lip quivered, “I’m sorry, baby.”

“Get out! Just go! You wanted your fucking freedom, you’ve got it!” I yelled.

I turned, wiping my eyes. I felt Jax grip my shoulder. I spun around, knocking his arm away from me and pushed him back.

“Don’t fucking touch me! You couldn’t even shower!? You bring the stench of her into my house!?”

He still smelt of sex and it really did break my heart that he had the gall to pull that with me.

“I don’t know what I did to you to deserve this Jackson, but I’m not falling for any of your lies. Now leave.”

Jax had his hands up in surrender, then nodded. “I love you, Y/N… just know that.”

With that he turned and left, taking his belongings with him.
°°°°°°
It took about a month, but I had moved to the Lodi area taking a job that paid much better than the one in Charming.

I was taking a break from dating, needing to focus on myself.

Walking to work, I was enjoying the nice weather. Things were going great and I was in a great mood… until a group of motorcyclists pulled up and stopped me.

I immediately knew who they were, the Grim Bastards. I had no problem with them as they were kind and treated me with respect.

Their VP, Hammer, dismounted his bike and came over to me.

“Hey Chic. What’s happening?” He asked, taking off his glasses.

“Not much. Just on my way to work.”

He nodded, “Listen, we need you to come with us.”

I shook my head, “No way guys. I have to get to work.”

Hammer held up his hands, gesturing me to calm down, “We called Bruno, he says it’s cool for you to take the day.”

Placing my hands on my hips, I growled, “I’m not with Jax anymore, damnit! So I shouldn’t have anything to do with club shit.”

“Chic, don’t make this difficult. It’ll only be for a little bit.”

I stomped my foot, cursing the sky, “Goddamnit!”
°°°°°°
Hammer had me ride with him. He wouldn’t give any details, so I kept my yap shut.

Pulling up to an abandoned warehouse, I grew weary.

“Relax Chic, ain’t nothin’ gonna happen.”

I wasn’t reassured.

Hammer and his crew escorted me in and had me sit down in a chair. There was only one other.

Minutes ticked by and I waited for the mystery guest to appear.

Half an hour later, a man walked in and I could make out Jax’s body frame.

I folded my arms and scoffed, but upon further inspection, I could see how much stress was on Jackson.

“Hey baby.” He said.

“Don’t call me that.” I snapped, out of habit.

Jax sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, “Right… sorry Y/N.”

“I’m leaving.” I said, standing up.

“I need some help,” Jax started, “I need you.”

I paused midstep. Going against my own wishes, I asked, “For what?”

He rubbed the back of his neck, “I’ve gotta go away for a while and I need someone to look after Abel and Thomas.”

I thought hard about what he said.

“You’re the only one I trust to keep my boys safe.”

Worried, I turned around to face him, “What’s going on Jax?”

He came to me, cupping my cheeks and I let him for some strange reason.

Like the last time I saw him, his bottom lip quivered, “I really am sorry for the way I treated you, baby,”

“Jax…”

He closed his eyes and placed his forehead against mine. “I love you so much, Y/N. None of this was supposed to happen.”

I started to tear up. This was sounding like a final goodbye.

“Please take care of the boys for me? I have more than enough money for them.”

“Oo-okay Jax.” I said, nodding my head.

He smiled, “Thank you. I love you, baby.”

Jax kissed me, tenderly moving his lips over mine in a sweet caress.

“I have to go now.” He said, softly, backing away.

“I’ll see ya later Y/N.”

My hand covered my mouth as I began to cry.

I don’t understand what fully happened, and it wouldn’t be until later on that day that everything would fall into place.
°°°°°°
Jackson Teller killed himself late that afternoon by riding his father’s bike head on into a semi.

He died at the scene.
°°°°°°
A few weeks later, I had received a letter in the mail, unmarked.

Opening it, I found a few pictures of Jax, me and the kids together and a note that was written by him.

It’s too difficult for me to go into, but he mainly talked about the good times we had and how those were the memories that I needed to hold on to and tell the boys about.

I may have disliked Jackson for quite awhile after he went about things they way he did, but deep down, I loved him and I knew I always will.

¤In loving memory of Jackson Teller.¤

I just noticed a funny similarity between Edward and Shay. In Edward’s case, most of the pre-release stuff, including cinematic trailers, kept building up Edward as this grim, humorless, vicious bastard, but in-game Edward turned out to be a pretty chill dude. In Shay’s case, most of the pre-release stuff ALSO led people to believe he would be a grim, vengeful anti-hero out for blood, and he turned out to be one of the most compassionate and morally upstanding characters in the series.

In the opposite corner we have Felicity, who is not “The Girl” but a full non-romantic player in the story: Felicity has hacked every organization that has an internet presence, gone undercover to cheat at cards in a crooked casino, jumped out of an airplane (and thrown up immediately afterward), and swung through the air on a rope with Oliver three times, which has to be a record for any love interest not named Jane. The writers haven’t used Felicity to tack on a romantic subplot to round out Oliver, they’ve made Felicity and Oliver’s crime-fighting partnership one of the gears that moves the main plots, which is, I think, one of the reasons so many viewers are rooting for her: a love story with Felicity would keep the central stories moving, not distract from them. Add to that the actors playing Oliver and Felicity have remarkable screen chemistry, and that the introduction of Felicity in the third episode saved Oliver from being a boring Grim Bastard all the time, and it’s hard not to start carving “Ollie and Felicity 4 Ever” into your TV cabinet. The first writing wonk thing I did on this show was deconstruct that relationship; if I can set-up a romance on the page the way they’ve done this one, I’ll know I’m back in the game.
—  Jennifer Crusie. I LOVE THIS WOMAN
so long ago, so well

Laurel Lance has not set foot in this house in five years, not since it was rebuilt after the fire. It wasn’t for lack of asking by every single member of the Queen family, both individually and collectively. She must have turned them down dozens of times. A month ago, Felicity personally licked the envelope with this evening’s engraved invitation, and not for a moment did she expect Laurel to accept.

But the RSVP came promptly, and now here the woman is, statuesque in midnight blue and seated next to Felicity on the raw silk sofa.

“May I?” Laurel says.

“Of course. It’s probably good luck, like rubbing the Buddha’s belly.” Felicity has let plenty of people feel the kicking or just the strange, miraculous bump that is both part of her and not part of her. She runs her hands over it herself sometimes, a little in awe of the bizarre naturalness of this whole process. Oliver likes to kiss it, right on her belly button, which very recently went from innie to outie.

Oliver. She can’t help glancing around the warm, glittering room full of smiling, glittering people until she finds him, handsome as always in black tie. Laurel’s eyes follow hers.

“He’ll be good at this,” Laurel says, sinking back into the sofa cushions. Her hand lingers on Felicity’s belly, then slips back into her lap. “Whether he thinks so or not.”

It’s not often that Laurel Lance offers up unsolicited compliments to Oliver, in or out of his hearing. Felicity tilts her head. “What makes you say so?”

Keep reading