NAOMI HAWKINS For Brian !

🪐 — NAOMI HAWKINS  for  brian !

         Right. Naomi clinked her whisky glass against his in agreement. Sometimes it didn’t matter about the taste, only that its price to alcohol content ratio was favourable to getting her drunk and suitably drowning out all of the problems of the day. And, in a rundown, dingy bar like this one, the pounding of the music from the live band helped with that too. It was loud and angry and gave her something to focus on that wasn’t her own thoughts — at least, until the cheap whisky started to kick in. “ Have you not tried putting up posters for open auditions or something? ” She pulled away a little to turn and look at him, a lazy grin slowly spreading across her face. “ You know, thanks to Viv I can sing a mean showtune. Probably not the vibe you’re going for, but I’ll have you know it takes a certain kinda person to belt out Cabaret in front of all her theatre friends and sound good doing it. ”

    HE’S BARELY LISTENING,  at least not until naomi tugs out from underneath his arm  &  he fixes her with an affronted look. the truth was that giovanni made all the big decisions for the band, not him. &  brian didn’t really care as long as he got to be there on stage, a little above everyone else, all the people in the crowd gazing adoringly up at him.  ❝ showtunes, huh ?  yeah, i definitely don’t think that’s our sound, dollface, ❞  he replies, his shoulders shaking with laughter.  &  yet, though it’s kind of a funny thought, he can also sorta see it :  him  &  gio wih their instruments, flanking not another rocker dude like them but naomi, all dolled up  &  singing to the crowd. ❝ but... if you think you could rock it, you know, give yourself a whole punk makeover  &  learn some of our songs, then maybe we’d let you give it a shot on stage with us sometime. ❞  it really wasn’t up to him in the end, but the more he thought about it, the more the idea of adding naomi to their lineup was kind of intriguing.  &  brian leans his head down  &  cocks it to one side, matching her grin almost like he’s posing some kind of challenge.  ❝ having a babe like you up front would definitely keep the bar drunks interested in the show, if nothing else. ❞

“I’m definitely not your sister.”     ↳ Rachel McAdams as Sigrit in “Eurovision Song Contest: The Story of Fire Saga” (2020)

You say you fight for the sake of Nassau, for the sake of your men, for the sake of Thomas and his memory. But the truth of the matter is, it isn’t for any of those things. What the fuck do you think I am fighting for?

BRENDAN FRASER Airheads, 1994

🪐 — LUCIUS SPRIGGS​  for  izzy !

The sun was absolutely roasting them that morning. Stede had already made plans for them to dock the ship near shore so they could have a swim to cool off. Lucius of course would be taking the rowboat to shore with some of them because he wasn’t a swimmer. Still, it would be nice to take a dip as long as he could still touch, just to cool off. Yet there was work to do and Izzy seemed hell bent on them getting a bunch of stuff done before they made landfall.  

Lucius had already stripped of his red jacket early on. But after ‘swabbing’ a small section of the deck, and by that it meant pretending to look busy even if he was staying in one place mostly, he’d taken off his shirt as well. It was damn hot and he didn’t need to sweat through his clothing. The crew was taking another water break, passing around a cup and bucket to refill. Lucius took a few heavy gulps before passing it over to Frenchie with a wink after he’d spotted Izzy walking by.

“Oi, Iz?” He said with a bit of mocking familiarity, propping himself up gripping the handle of his mop. “You think you can cool it with all this? It’s like an oven aboard this ship right now. – I think the Swede has sun stroke.” He glanced the first mate over, leather clad as usual. “Do you ever take that off? I’m just saying, if you pass out we’re probably going to have to throw you overboard to cool you off,” he quipped with a little smirk and twist at the hips to look over the side of the ship. “Christ that sounds good right now though,” he mumbled, hand on his hip while he fanned himself, mop handle in the crook of his elbow.

     NO MATTER HOW HOT  the day became, izzy was determined to wear his leathers fully laced, as he always did. he was not the kind of man who would allow something as small as discomfort to sway his well established patterns, even in the midst of the thick stifling heat that had descended upon them in recent days. his only true respite came after dark had fallen, when he could disappear into the small closet that he had taken as his quarters  &  strip it all away to let his skin breathe at it. that was the only place aboard the revenge where he allowed himself to appear anything less than entirely covered, the only place that there were no eyes could catch glimpse of his vulnerable flesh.                             he would certainly not be caught baring himself so flagrantly on deck, as lucius did when he removed first his jacket, then undershirt as well.  &  he was not the only member of the crew who opted for less clothing while they worked, but there was something about the scribe in particular that drew izzy’s eye more than the rest, in spite of his best efforts. lucius’s large frame is all soft curves, not a single sharp edge to be found, yet his arms hint at a certain strength in spite of the piss-poor job they’re doing at swabbing the deck.  &  when he walks by to check on ivan at the helm  &  hears lucius call out to him, izzy turns sharply to face him.  though he does have to force his eyes to remain fixed upward on the taller man’s face, rather than lingering on his broad chest bared to the sun.           ❝ orders are orders, spriggs, ❞  he barks back, spine rigid.  ❝ you lot can have your little field trip after the deck’s been swabbed, the lantern oil refilled,  &  the mainsail patched,  &  not before. ❞  in truth, edward didn’t much care if the deck was swabbed, but then, his captain didn’t care about anything except for bonnet as of late.  &  someone had to see that the ship was taken care of in the meantime, until blackbeard returned to his senses. ❝ it seems to me that the only person whose wardrobe you need concern yourself with is yourself, as you seem to have lost half of your clothes already this morning. ❞

the emerald ring that izzy always wears around the cravat at his throat was a family heirloom that belonged to his mother.  miriam was a kind  &  compassionate seamstress who married richard hands shortly after moving to london from her ancestral home near modern-day gaza.  as a child, izzy loved his mother very much  —  she is the only person who has ever touched him gently.  when she died of pneumonia when he was twelve years old, izzy kept her ring for himself.  for awhile, he wore it on his finger.  when he joined the navy he kept it safely hidden in his inside pocket.  only after he joined edward’s crew did he begin to wear it at his throat, always visible  &  yet holding his defensive outfit tightly closed.