jambalaya-enthusiast

[jambalaya-enthusiast]

You fell off so hard

I'll never fall off coz there's not one thing I've posted on any of my blogs that got less likes than I wanted lmfao.

[jambalaya-enthusiast]

I literally don't know how to properly write sex scenes and I'll get accused of using AI if i don't

[jambalaya-enthusiast]

photo from curly

[jambalaya-enthusiast]

my only input

[jambalaya-enthusiast]

unfortunately, mouthwashing reached quite the wrong audience.

hey so how come people get so mad at jimmy mouthwashing being included in lgbt headcanons or lighthearted content or shipping but no one says anything about homelander, yknow, a rapist who’s also kind of a nazi, constantly being drawn with cat ears and literally has his own nendoroid and is the fucking poster boy of the show and all merchandise and advertising lol. notice how MW is a piece of media that mainly chronically online people interact with but the boys is incredibly mainstream and normie and no one is saying “THE BOYS SHOULDNT HAVE A FANDOM….”

[jambalaya-enthusiast]

Throwing this at you like people throw food to the hounds

[jambalaya-enthusiast]

dinner. ( jimmy character sketch )

You’re standing in the kitchen,your back hurts, your knees feel tight. the fan’s been running for hours and it’s doing jack shit for the heat. the water you spilled twenty minutes ago is still on the floor, you're still staring at it. like maybe if you do that long enough, everything else will make sense.

the knife’s on the counter, onions half-cut, something on the stove has burned. you didn’t notice it when it started smoking, you notice it now, though, your eyes are stinging. could be the onion. could be your face.

you hear keys, then the door. the heavy kind of opening, not rushed, just there.

jimmy walks in...doesn’t say your name right away, doesn’t greet you.

you hear him drop his bag, his boots scrape against the floor, then nothing.

he stands in the doorway for a second. you can feel him looking at you...Not like he’s judging. just...watching. figuring out the temperature of the room before stepping in.

you’re still staring at the floor.

he finally moves, his jacket’s half-off, but he doesn’t finish taking it off. just walks up and grabs a glass, fills it with water, sets it in front of you on the counter. doesn’t say anything yet.

he looks at the stove, then looks at your face, looks at the fact that you haven’t moved in what is clearly a long time.

“Alright,” he says. quiet. not soft, just...quiet. “What are we doing today?”.

he shuts the stove off. fiddles with the pan, then tosses it in the sink. he opens the fridge, closes it again like he forgot why.

you haven’t moved. at all.

he glances at you again, still doesn’t make a big thing out of it.

you still don’t move.

then he just leans against the opposite counter, crosses his arms, and exhales through his nose.

“You want me to go?”

you blink at him. hard. a “no” almost makes it out, but doesn’t.

he nods, like he heard it anyway.

“Alright....you been standing like that the whole time?”

you nod, barely.

“You eat today?”

you don’t answer.

he stays quiet. It’s not a performance. It’s not tenderness for the sake of it... he just...doesn’t say anything, the silence isn’t warm, exactly...but it’s not cruel. It’s just neutral. he’s here, and you’re here. that’s it.

after a while, he goes over to the couch, settles down. he shifts his weight and says, flatly, “Come sit”.

you don’t move right away, you know it’s not a request. but it’s not pressure either. just an instruction.

you follow after a minute, you’re not really thinking. just moving now. muscle memory, ghost steps.

you sit beside him, close, but not touching... your body starts shaking a little. quiet, like it’s apologizing for taking up space.

that’s when he pulls you in, not forcefully. Just reaches and brings you into him. arms awkward but solid, your face hits his chest and that’s it, the tears once again come flooding. not louder, just deeper. you try to keep it in but your whole body’s tight now, and you’re breathing weird, and your hands won’t stay still.

he doesn’t say “shh.”, he doesn’t rock you, he just holds you steady. Big, warm, slightly trembling hands on your back. you can hear his heart, It’s slow, steady.

“You’re alright,” he says. not to soothe, just to say it out loud.

you press your face harder into his chest, cry into his shirt.

he stays like that. lets the silence stretch.

he doesn't ask what happened, and you don't say anything.

you sit like that a while longer. his thumb starts tapping lightly against your knee, like he’s keeping time... not comforting, just reminding you he’s still here.

eventually, he stands up.

“Toast and eggs,” he says. “only thing I won’t screw up right now.”

you look up.

he looks down at you, and you felt something in his eyes soften.

“you can stay here, or come watch. doesn’t matter, but you’re not doin’ anything else tonight.”

then he walks off toward the kitchen again, opens a cabinet, bangs something shut, swears under his breath when he drops a fork.

you’re still crying, a little. but you’re breathing again. you stay on the couch. for the first time today, you’re not trying to prove anything.

you stay, you don't clean up the kitchen, or dry your face.

you just stay.

and in the other room, you hear the toaster clunk, a cupboard slam, jimmy swearing softly at a plate, the house still smells like burnt onion, but it feels...better. not good. but better.

he didn’t fix anything.

he just showed up.

and for now, that’s enough.

[jambalaya-enthusiast]

co-pilot’s best friend

[jambalaya-enthusiast]

I have so many fire ideas in mind

[jambalaya-enthusiast]

all you guys

[jambalaya-enthusiast]

you ever like something so much you cant physically watch it

[jambalaya-enthusiast]

☀️✨

[jambalaya-enthusiast]

I have been 18 for a hot minute now..

[jambalaya-enthusiast]

LITERALLY JUST FELL TO MY KNEES WHAT HAPPENED 💔

WAIT DID NARCISA DEACTIVATE??????

[jambalaya-enthusiast]

oof throwback to when an anon asked for a puppygirl reader scenario and my dumbass thought it was something furry related #imsorry anon, hope you're doing well 😞🥀

[jambalaya-enthusiast]

y'all have no idea of the freak im boutta turn into once dispatch releases

[jambalaya-enthusiast]

“Orion Carling” this “Grant Curly” that

HIS NAME IS CURLY MOUTHWASH