#he'd join the ranks of the men mentioned in this too

[araiz-zaria]

I often heard about that one enslaved muslim man who guarded his enslaver's estate when he was away during American Civil War, but Muslims serving as Union soldiers during the war? Now that's new to me.

[menaiprowrestling]

Montana 2001

Batchelor Arthur (51), works as a delivery driver for a furniture company. He didn't do very well academically, and still lives in the town he was raised in. He always dreamed of becoming a Pro wrestler, but life got in the way and it never happened for him. He's a total pro wrestling nerd and goes to every live pro event in his county. Mostly he keeps himself to himself, and in his spare time, apart from watching wrestling, he works out in the small make shift gym in his basement. Occasionally he'll meet other men out of state, that he chats to online, for private pro wrestling bouts.

A few months ago, Jonathan (29) joined the same company, and was assigned to Arthur to help with the larger deliveries. Initially very quiet, he's starting to come out of his shell and chat a bit more when they're out in the van. Arthur isn't the most talkative either, but they're relaxed around each other a bit more now and there isn't as much awkwardness. They have some things in common. Working out, Sci fi and action movies. The gossipy receptionist at their company told Arthur that Jonathan was recently separated from his wife, and had moved to town to start over.

Arthur has become a bit infatuated with Jonathan. He's always checking him out when he's not looking, admiring his thicc, muscular body. Those eyes, those arms, the sexy Southern accent, that BIG ASS and package. He jerks off every night, imagining what Jonathan would look like in Pro gear. If he could wrestle, what would his favourite hold be? Would he be a heel or a jobber? He fantasises about them wrestling each other. About them being a tag team and winning the regional belts. About them making love in the ring after a bout.

One day, Arthur mentioned that he was going to a pro wrestling show after work. Jonathan asked if he could tag along. He had no plans. He doesn't really know anyone else in town. At the show they're having a great time. It's a Friday night, they're drinking beers and laughing. While watching the action, Arthur is impressed with Jonathan's commentary and knowledge of Pro wrestling. When he mentions this, Jonathan tells him that he wrestled Pro for a bit when he was younger, to earn some extra cash. His grandfather was a pro wrestler and taught him when he was a kid. He had a ring set up in his basement that they would practice in.

Arthur cannot believe what he's hearing. He's impressed, and incredibly turned on. He also notices that during the main event, a violent and bloody chain match between two enormous hot muscle bears, that Jonathan is trying to hide his massive hard on. Arthur questions if this is this really happening. Is he imagining this? Is this wishful thinking? Has he had too many beers? The guy's straight, after all.

After the show, Jonathan thanks Arthur for letting him tag along. He's had a great time. He says he's been feeling a bit lonely. "maybe I should start wrestling again, to get out of the house?" he says, jokingly.

As they make their way to the taxi rank, Arthur asks if he has plans for the weekend. Jonathan shrugs his shoulders "no, sir" he replies. Arthur pauses, then asks Jonathan if he'd like to come to his house tomorrow night. "We can order some pizzas, drink some beers and watch the WWF PPV on cable, if you'd like?"

J: "Sounds great, thanks, that would be cool"

A: "You know, I'm not a bad pro wrestler myself. I've been wrestling for years, on the underground scene. I was thinking that maybe, just for a bit of fun, we could have a bit of a tussle, were kinda the same size and....

Before he could finish, Jonathan says "I'll bring my gear".

To be continued?

[thlayli-ra]

Ficlet for Samijey please!! 💕

• Holding both their hands while holding their gaze gently, just before leaning in for a kiss

Here you go, Anon! Some warm, fuzzy feelings for you all today 🥰 (and let's just conveniently ignore everything that's happened in WWE the past couple of weeks, ok?)

Treat - 'Holding both hands before kissing'

Characters - Jey Uso, Sami Zayn, Roman Reigns, The Bloodline, others mentioned

Rating - Suitable for everyone

Warnings - None apply, fluff

For the past three years, Jey's life had been defined by the colour red.

Red gear, red merch, red on his shirt and in his hair. Red for blood, the ties and lineage that bound them, red for family. The same red adorning his twin brother, Jimmy, the same as their baby brother Solo, the same red as the tie worn by their wise man, Paul Heyman. The same red as their cousin, Roman, the red of the the ula fala around his neck. The red of their Tribal Chief.

The red of the Bloodline.

But the most red he possessed, was in his ledger.

For in order to gain control of the company, in order to make it to the top and stay there, to keep their power over the rest of their domain, they had to commit unspeakable crimes. They cut down any and all challengers to their crown, a pack of jackals who set upon their enemies and tore them to shreds. Big men, tough men, men like Kevin Owens, Cody Rhodes, Drew McIntyre, even living legends like Randy Orton and the once formidable John Cena.

Every single one of them had fallen at the hands of the Bloodline and their blood soiled Jey's hands. Even when dissension came from within their own ranks, brother had turned on brother and that red clung to Jey too.

Until one day, it became too much to bear. It was like slowly waking up from some strange, vivid dream and he stepped, blinking, into the world, the real world, the one outside of the Matrix. He could see Roman's growing paranoia, his cruelty. He could see the damage they reaped upon the WWE landscape and, above all, he could see his true place in it, see how he was simply a cog in the destructive machine, disposable, replaceable.

He knew the precise moment he started to come to. It was when Roman turned on Sami Zayn. First came the trial, then the test of loyalty at the Royal Rumble when Roman slammed the steel chair into Sami's hands and ordered him to beat his long-time friend, Kevin Owens. It turned out that Jey was not the only one questioning his role in the Bloodline and Sami faltered, torn between his loyalty to his stable or to the closest thing he had to a brother in this industry.

Sami had always been the braver of them all, the most true to his heart. Jey had watched his friend, a man he cared about deeply batter the chair against Roman's spine and became paralysed with shock. As he'd scolded his friend like a broken record, pain marring his face, the rest of his family pounced upon the traitor and beat him down. Jey couldn't bring himself to join in. He walked away, dizzy and confused. Something changed in him that day, the glass cracked beyond repair.

But, despite the damage, it still held and he swallowed down his despair and continued to pledge his fealty to his Tribal Chief. Even when it meant hurting his former brother. For Roman's bond was blood, Sami's was only water.

However, it turned out that blood meant nothing to his cousin either, and when Jimmy became the next target of Roman's hysteria, Jey could no longer sit back and watch. Ordered to exile Jimmy from the group, Jey looked into the eyes of twin, the man he had shared every significant event in his life with, from birthdays to high school to the WWE and he imagined his brother's blood on his hands, a different tone of crimson to add to his growing collection and he realised he no longer wanted any red in his life.

'You out!' he barked at Jimmy through the mic, taking in a breath, sucking in courage from some unknown well. 'And I'm out too!'

The instant he super-kicked his Tribal Chief and left the Bloodline, a great weight lifted from his soul. By turning his back on his group, his family, his brothers, he also turned his back on the red. When he challenged Roman Reigns for the ula fala, he walked out in white. A fresh start, a new beginning. Not quite pure because he was not a pure man, but a new, clean sheet on which to rewrite his destiny.

He lost the match but he won his freedom, and from that day he adopted the colour of blue. Representing water, cleansing his guilty conscious and dousing the flames that he had left in his wake before. He would make amends for his wrongs, he would water the scorched earth and help it thrive again.

He began by switching brands to Raw. Then by making the right decisions, such as rejecting the temptation of the Judgement Day and instead siding with Cody Rhodes, a man he soon called friend. Little by little, each piece of red fell away like droplets of rain, one less guilt weighing heavy on his mind, and the more he shook off the choking oil the more his wings spread out until he could ruffle his feathers and ready himself for flight.

He'd never been a singles wrestler before, not really. Sure, he'd have the odd bout alone but it was only ever as one half of the Usos and Jimmy would always be there as his personal cheerleader. To be without him, without anyone, truly and utterly alone was a new experience all together.

And one that scared him.

But he was prepared for any challenge; he had already made it through the hardest times of his life, this was easy compared to cutting ties with the Bloodline and he faced it head-on, an exciting opportunity. His journey lead him through ups and down. He made new friendships including former enemies - Cody welcomed him into his inner sanctum, Rhea Ripley smiled sweetly at him after finally dropping that scumbag Dirty Dom and he found another like-minded spirit in LA Knight who was on a crusade to reform his own character too. Others would not be swayed, but then, Drew McIntyre was on a spiral of his own and fortunately his focus was swiftly distracted by a returning CM Punk.

And it all lead him right here, to this very moment. As he pulled Bron Breakker's knee back for the pin and listened to the crowd yelling the count along with the official, his heart leapt up into his mouth.

One...

Two...

Three...!

A great swell rose up like a tidal wave, washing over him. He had done it! Jey had won his first ever singles title. In a decorated career of fourteen years, he had never once wore such a gem around his waist and as he held the gold in his hand, tears streaming down his cheeks, he felt such an unspeakable joy that he could not begin to describe. He turned to his new family, to the crowd, the loving, doting fans of the WWE and he celebrated along with them, feeling the last of the red in him wash away.

Well... not quite. He still kept one little little piece of red with him and it was waiting for him in the back when he returned with his new championship. Sami Zayn, the man who always believed in him, even when Jey had turned his back on him, who believed in the goodness of his soul and held it in his devoting palms like a baby bird to keep it warm throughout the winter of his life, who saw in him his potential and his kindness. The man who realised before even Jey did that his place was not in the Bloodline.

Now, Sami was beaming with pride as he rushed towards him, Jey having to manoeuvre his new belt onto his shoulder so that the redhead could grab up both of his hands in his. Gazing longingly into his lover's sparkling eyes, Jey felt the soft pads of Sami's thumbs gently stroking his knuckles, a millions suns dancing through his chest and he thought about just how lucky he was to have such a man in his life. Who loved and cared for a wretch like him.

'You did it!' Sami exclaimed, hopping from foot to foot with excitement. He had tears in his eyes too, moments away from bursting free. 'I am so proud of you.'

'I did it for you,' Jey told him, feeling a fresh pang of emotion himself. 'For everything you did for me, I... none of this would be possible if it wasn't for you.'

The red-head smiled and shook his head. 'No Jey, you did this. You made this happen.' He took a step forward and Jey could smell the cosy scent of home that Sami always carried with him. His heart danced in his chest as his lover pressed a kiss onto his waiting lips.

'And you deserve it all.'

[froguemorgue]

(1) Creature Feature: The Many Secrets of the Laurens Son

vampire drabble pt 1/?

historical Hamilton/Laurens

Slight CW for blood and non-explicit mentions of sexual intimacy

[part 2] >>

After Manning, Laurens decided he would never turn another human. She was his first and only victim, after all— she never seemed to want to forgive him for what he'd done. Reasonably so, of course. To be fair, it wasn't entirely his fault. He was practically starving and animal blood was barely satisfying his needs. It wasn't his fault that he had been bitten in the first place. He had tried to explain to her that perhaps if he'd been taught how to sate his thirst and how much to take from a living person...

Even if he had trusted Kinloch, it wasn't his fault; a moronic mistake, yes, but he wasn't to blame. After his two big mistakes, he vowed two things: One, to never turn a human; and two, to never trust another person again, vampire or human. With those two promises engraved onto his brain, Laurens fled from Europe and began his new life playing soldier.

His vow to never trust another man fell flat after meeting Hamilton. A graceful, grimacing yet energetic redhead with a quill fueled by pure fiery passion. That man was like an enigma, yet he let John know him. And for whatever the reason may have been, Laurens couldn't help but feel drawn to him. And there was a part of him that was afraid he would lose him. If any man deserved immortality, it would be Alexander. Not yet... but if he ever could reveal his secret, then someday, he should like to live with him forever.

And so, he paced. He had known Hamilton for a year now and every day he only felt himself more and more attached, more trusting. When he simply thought about the man, it practically melted his skin. It was as if he stood right before him, perhaps smiling if only a little, beginning to go off about something or another all passionately as he did. He heard Hamilton's voice, too. Saying something to him— it was his name, repeated like a mantra.

"John," the ghost of Hamilton's voice mumbled in Laurens' head. "John Laurens. John. John."

Laurens opened his eyes again; no Hamilton, no mantra. He peeked out his tent - something he'd put up if only for more privacy at night from the aides, justified by the fact that he was merely a secretary and volunteer of no rank - and he saw a small group of men walk by, most not in blue, holding their coats and spare clothes. They couldn't afford uniforms, of course. Some good-natured laughter and the Continentals moved on, except for one, who pushed back the flap of the tent haphazardly.

The young and fair aide de camp smiled pleasantly at Laurens. "I was hoping you were here. You spend so much time exercising or working and yet I hardly see you. How was the letter coming along? Did you find the privacy better suited to it?"

Laurens glanced back at the unfinished letter before looking at Hamilton. "Only somewhat."

"I hope you aren't busy. Will you accompany the lads to bathe at the stream? We should take advantage of these warm days while they are still here."

"Later, when it is peaceful."

Hamilton nodded, expecting to accompany him later, then.

Laurens tacked on, "I was just about to take a walk through camp myself. Shall you join me?"

"If it pleases you," he replied.

"Always."

Hamilton felt a smile spread across his cheeks before he realized he was flattered. Laurens took this opportunity of Hamilton's bashfulness to face him, tuck a strand of hair behind his ear, admire his smile with one of his own. Hamilton straightened Laurens' necktie as he whispered, "Are you sweet and impartial to me, John?" to which Laurens just laughed pleasantly - for Hamilton knew the answer, after the nights they had shared, closer than the warm nights necessitated - and he started for the exit. Hamilton followed, quickly trying to push down the arising fantasies of pulling him back into that tent for a kiss.

There was one particular incident which redefined Laurens' relationship to his companion, except it was entirely on his side - and Hamilton was none the wiser. It wasn't the first time they'd kissed or the first time they got in close enough to feel one another's shapes beneath their sheets. It was much more complicated than their improper desires. Normally, of course, Laurens would have hesitated more to allow the sexual aspect of their intimacy, but he didn't need to. He'd live forever, and if there was a hell, he was damned already.

No, their complex relationship was born of a common mistake, really, a slip of the letter opener one night as they worked, the last two left in the room. Laurens looked up immediately, nose sensitive to the smell. It wasn't much blood. It was enough, however, for him to have the excuse to stand up, pull his handkerchief from his pocket, and stain the white with red.

The reaction was initially due to his genuine concern, then when his hands tenderly squeezed Hamilton's with the fine fabric between them, he realized how sweet he smelled, how hungry he was. He was leaning in without realizing, still awkwardly pressed over the table. Hamilton was looking at him, assuming his eyes focused on their clasped hands had more to do with Laurens' shyness than what really was bothering him. Hamilton did not look around before shifting to stand, squeezing his hands tighter, kissing him gently on the corner of his lips. He'd whispered, "There was no need to dirty your hankerchief."

Laurens cleared his throat, took it back slowly. He folded it and placed it in his pocket again. "I'm sorry, I think I'll retire to our room early."

Bells rang in Hamilton's head. "Finished your letter?"

"About an hour ago," he admitted. He gathered his papers.

As he went around the table and passed Hamilton, Hamilton said, "Then what's caused your sudden retreat?"

He kissed Hamilton's cheek to reassure him that, "I'm not retreating. I'll be awake when you come to bed, don't work too much longer."

"All right. I'll be up shortly."

With that squared away, Laurens left in a hurry. He couldn't wait to get upstairs, instead pulled out the small square of bloodied fabric as soon as he turned the corner. It was against his nose in an instant. Once he was in their room, he could no longer retrain himself. He could have swallowed the fabric whole. He tasted it, and god, it was like pure opium. It was everything he'd been craving.

From then on, nothing was the same between them. No amount of blood from anywhere else could get Hamilton's off his mind.

[next part] >>

[mcl39]

ok sorry i decided to make this a reblog bc its gonna be Long

so here's the thing. you have hordes and hordes of (british and otherwise) young drivers who have over the years joined the f1 ranks and literally kiss lewis's feet, making their hero worship very much public. notable childhood fanboy went-to-have-his-book-signed george russell even becomes teammates with lewis, right? but lewis barely gives these people (including george despite being his teammate) any attention. which like, sure, fair. when every kid in a kart grew up idolising you and ur middle aged ass can barely rmbr their names i understand why they'd start to all blend into each other

but then you have lando, who for lewis represents part of the nostalgia and affection he still holds for mclaren (who he always makes sure to compliment when they are successful), and also very likely also reminds lewis of a younger version of himself: aside from random similarities like a tooth gap or dyslexia or lando beating a bunch of lewis's junior records, lando is also young, fast, brash, blunt, has a tendency for bitchiness, is into pop culture / art more than most drivers, etc. so lewis, naturally, pays more attention to lando than any of the others in the young guard: congratulates him and mclaren at every opportunity, even once literally while inside the car, engages in conversation with him, finds him funny, etc. after lando got the p2 in silvo last year, it was actually rly funny how lewis went ham with the insta stories out of happiness

this is very entertaining to see because ostensibly, lando seems to be neutral at best, resentful at worst towards lewis. he has a track record of being dismissive of lewis's achievements (like saying he is not impressed by lewis breaking schumacher's win record considering how dominant the mercedes had been for years). he also, as a friend of max's, was one of the few people who didn't necessarily root for lewis in 2021, ultimately admitting (to ziggo tbf) that he wants max to win, then publicly supporting / congratulating max after abu dhabi. so the dynamic is interesting, this like god-among-men figure who only seems to like the one guy who's least impressed by him. there's even a chance that lando's lack of ass kissing is one of the reasons lewis finds him appealing

but here's the problem: lando IS secretly a lifelong lewis fanboy like all the others, he just has too big an ego to admit it. for years lando has told the story of falling in love with f1 and mclaren in 2007, cheering for them on track. but he... never mentions WHO he was rooting for. and considering how he has no issue playing the mentor-protege dynamic with fernando, i don't think he'd have an issue admitting it if he was rooting for fernando. but like. he was an english boy watching f1 in 2007. he was not rooting for fernando. there's no way he wasn't cheering for lewis

so i always had the suspicion that, because lando's formative f1-watching years involved lewis in a mclaren (who we know were lando's favourite team), he definitely had some sort of lingering feelings of being starstruck by lewis, but it tracks with his personality that he wouldn't want to own up to it. and, as it often happens, lando proved me right: last year, on a stream with max fewtrell, lando gushed about this one person he went golfing with, acting like he couldnt believe this person would even join his golf game, and generally fangirling to max. we later find out (i think through lewis himself posting about it, lando wasn't planning for it to b. publicised) that the person lando was treating like a celebrity who shocked him by agreeing to hang out with him was lewis. all along. ALL along lando was that guy, but he's done such a good job pretending he isn't that people nowadays genuinely believe lando hates / dislikes lewis. i literally once said smth abt lando secretly liking lewis in the tags of a post and got an anon calling me delusional abt it. they killed jesus because he told the truth etc.

anyways lando/lewis is appealing to me because it's a story of egos and mirrors and veiled intentions... it's a story about trying to live up to someone's legacy when that person is not done writing it... it's a story of lando losing out on his first win in sochi and giving lewis his hundredth... of lando losing out on a possible first home win in silverstone by giving lewis his ninth, literally breaking the record of victories on any single f1 track. of lando attempting to be a champion for mclaren (replacing lewis as the last mclaren wdc) except lewis is fighting him while he tries. all the while lewis is almost as happy watching lando succeed as he is while succeeding himself

Thoughts on Lando nd Lewis as a pair?

not my thing but @mcl38 can make a compelling case for it

[kitorin]

how they react when they catch you simping for a fictional character

pairings. shidou ryusei x gn!reader, itoshi rin x m!reader, mikage reo x gn!reader (separate)

contents. crack, smau, a sexual joke and a half (it's just ryusei being ryusei) shinonome akito slander (I'M SORRY I PROMISE I LOVE HIM BUT RIN DOESN'T), exposing my taste in men, written all in lowercase, spoilers for sounds of a summer event (project sekai)

a/n. i thought of this bc i questioned if i liked rin or akito more 😭, and sorry for rin's being so long since i had the most ideas for him :>. i also have no confidence with crack so please bear with me and it's my first smau

shidou ryusei - seong taehoon (how to fight / viral hit)

when he caught you gawking at the new viral hit chapter, taehoon specifically, he immediately joined you (as he should)

he straight up yelled "smash" at that one scene where taehoon's snacking and he's wearing a tight shirt so you can see all of his muscles

he begs you to re read the series with them, and now you two read each update every week together, fully engaged in the story and taehoon's abs

attempts to recreate all of taehoon's kicks (i headcanon that does taekwondo and has a black belt :>), proudly shows them off to you, with a huge grin on his face (please fawn over him too)

also extensively practices so he can show them off by incorporating them into soccer somehow (doesn't matter if it ain't practical he just wants to impress you), and if he ever has to use them on anyone making you uncomfortable

he probably has a folder in his gallery dedicated to every panel he loves (which is basically all) and recreates his absolute favs (with you as his photographer)

makes a lot of jokes about being in love with taehoon (so do you), but he'd stop them if they made you uncomfortable, and reassures you that a drawing can't compare to how sweet, amazing and perfect you are

honorable mentions to baek seongjun being his second favourite

wants you to do taekwondo as well cause now he has a thing for it after discovering taehoon

"i swear to god men who do taekwondo and can actually fight are so hot,"

"isn't that you?"

"... you don't agree with me...?"

"no you have a brilliant point"

itoshi rin - shinonome akito (project sekai)

during the sounds of a summer festival event you spent so much time glued to your phone, full combo-ing literally every hard, expert, and master song you possibly could, leveling up all character ranks, sacrifice countless of hours of sleep (if it's for akito it's very much worth it), and even contemplate spending money

you even tweeted about how badly you need him

rin notices the bags under your eyes, and the lack of sleep you had been getting, he's worried and when he asks you you're too focused on the event story to even register what he says, as you're on the brink of sobbing at young akito and ena

he observes as well, and immediately is jealous of how much of your attention this fictional character was receiving from you

as you're about to spend another few hours grinding, he stops you

"dumbass you need to sleep, and give your eyes a break"

"no i don't, i need summer festival akito,"

"who and what?"

soon you're rambling on how much akito's backstory and struggles already hurt, and how wholesome yet painful the event story was, with akito quitting soccer and ena encouraging him to give music a try, and it only nurtures rin's envy

"you're going to cry for a ginger guy who quit soccer and started his ambition because of his older sister? how lukewarm,"

"yes i am?? and he looked cute as a child and now he's a pretty boy with the best vocals. their event cards are beautiful too i need them. didn't you start soccer because of sae anyways?"

"tch"

"rin... are you jealous?"

"... no, i just don't get what you see in this idiot. i never quit soccer when it got hard and i know how to persevere, i don't give up, i don't experience despair when someone's better than me-"

"so you're jealous,"

"no"

"rin you always have and always will be my number 1. akito can't do anything you've done for me, and can't even compare to how pretty you are,"

"damn right,"

despite being salty, he still installs the game to read the stories, out of pure curiosity and wants to understand what kind of stuff you like

he ends up adoring ena and akito's relationship (the supportive part only ofc), as well as tsukasa and saki's (and secretly wishes sae was as affectionate as shizuku since she reminds him of sae in the past)

you do not shut up when you seem him struggle with hitorinbo envy on master

"I THOUGHT YOU SAID AKITO WAS LUKEWARM,"

"he is, i was just curious why you liked the stories so much,"

"YOU SPENT EVERY FREE CRYSTAL ON THE FIND A WAY OUT EVENT AND NOW GRINDING FOR MORE,"

"... i want his boyfriend"

"YOU READ THE MAIN STORY TOO ?! and you don't need touya you have me"

"THAT'S HOW I FELT ABOUT AKITO,"

"YOU FEEL INFERIOR TO A LUKEWARM GINGER?"

mikage reo - kang tae moo (business proposal)

he heard you squealing at a scene of tae moo getting flustered after sunghoon suggested his feelings for hari

he thought that you were having a heart attack and thought something was wrong

reo doesn't even need the show's context to be invested immediately, as he joins you and watches with great interest

after seeing you simp over tae moo, in secret, he binge watches the rest of the series in attempt to mimic any romantic scenes

full on posts the "do you know what my credit card and my love for y/n have in common? they simply have no limit" on his not very private twitter account, and it leaves you flustered by all the comments saying how lucky you are and their jealousy

deletes any comment revealing the source of that line (silently apologises to the writer(s) and credits ahn hyo seop for its brilliant execution)

little does he know nagi made a tweet exposing him

also recreates other cute scenes from the show, and starts looking for more kdramas to watch and recreate (still gets fully absorbed in the plot and dialogue)

innocently smiles when you realize he's just a kang tae moo copycat

"i didn't copy him i'm the inspiration behind him, rich, smart, pretty and utter perfection,"

"i can't deny the second part... i can't believe nagi's seen business proposal,"

"wait what?"

©kouyun : do not repost, plagiarize, change, or translate

[newtonsheffield]

Hi Molly! I really enjoyed the latest chapter of offside! I love petty Kate! I think you previously mentioned that Anthony is 32 in this story so I'm wondering how much longer does he keep playing in this universe? Also, do any of the other Man City players lose the ability to function around Kate because she's so pretty or is that just Anthony's particularly brand of clownery?

I'm glad everyone is loving Offside

It's slowly climbing the ranks to everyone's favourite AU!

Anthony is 32 right now, and I think he probably plays for another 3 or four seasons after this one they're currently in so he maybe retires around 35-36, and then he takes a coaching job and jogs up and down the side of the pitch with his tiny baby strapped to his chest making hearts flutter everywhere

Kate is also making hearts flutter around the stadium and it makes Anthony furious

The boys talked in the changing room. Of course they did. There was little else to be done to undercut the complete awkwardness of standing in your underwear surrounded by fifteen other men. So of course they talked, about everything. Shows they were watching on Netflix, cars they wanted to buy, moments from games, after game plans, which naturally brought them to women.

Anthony wasn't stupid, despite what some might think, he knew that Kate was an attractive woman. That was the entire fucking problem with her actually; She was almost too attractive. The fact that she just wandered around like that with her thick dark hair, and her eyes sparkling with a witty retort she was about to give, and those legs that stretched to the fucking ceiling, and the way her voice sounded like velvet, and she smelled like flowers, it really ought to be illegal, actually. Surely it wasn't just allowed. She was stunning. Absolutely. And it would have been stupid to think that he was the only one who'd noticed.

"Jesus fucking Christ." He'd heard one of his teammates whisper when Pep had introduced her at training that first day, when he'd already been burning for her after their conversation. "I might have to let myself get injured a bit this season, boys."

Anthony had twitched with irritation, his chest roaring as the boys had crowded around her, muscles bulging, leaning in, eyes winking, it was ludicrous. The same thing had happened last season when Sophie had joined the team, until she and ben had started dating and then slowly one by one they'd all given up.

It'll be the same Anthony told himself. They'll settle, and she's not yours anyway.

But they didn't

It seemed like it followed him everywhere. Wherever he went, men talking about Kate.

"Jesus look at that little skirt."

"Fucking hell I wouldn't mind having her look at a groin injury."

"A born flute player lads." That from another team's doctor of all people.

Her office door was practically revolving, the boys making up injury after injury, and the fact that she sent them away with their tail between their legs only seemed to make them thrive forward. And finally he'd had enough.

He couldn't even say later, who'd said it, and really, it was one of the least awful comments he'd heard about her, but something made him snap. Something awful and ugly and jealous rising in his chest.

"Fucking ENOUGH!" he roared through the changing room, his pulse thundering through his ears. "She's part of this team, start fucking acting like it!"

The room had fallen silent, everyone staring at him, several mouths falling open before someone had let out a loud "Ooooooo Bridgerton's got a little crush!"

And his fate had been sealed.

He'd tried to fight it with a gruff "Fuck off. As if."

But the fact that his cheeks were burning for everyone to see and that was it. The entire team knew that he had a wild hard on for Dr Kate Sharma.

Which of course, only made them act more like a hyperactive pack of Chihuahuas whenever she was around, nudging and ribbing him

"Bridgerton your Girlfriends here!" His cheeks burning, pulse thrumming until finally, months and months later he was able to say

"Yeah she is." Sprinting off the pitch and pulling Kate into a dramatic dip, their lips meeting roughly while the rest of the team cheered.

Of course, he still saw the startled looks on the rookie's faces when Anthony took them to their first physical to introduce them to the medical team and they look around at Kate, Sophie, and Lucy, their mouths gaping. And this time he burned with pride.

"Say hello to Dr Sharma, and Sophie and Lucy, Steven."

"H-Hi!"

[mimisempai]

Missing you comes in waves and tonight I'm drowning

Summary:

After seeing Loki disappear before his eyes and confined to the TVA because of the failed mission, Mobius decides to still believe in Loki and search for him. He witnesses the discussion between Sylvie and Loki on the train

Notes:

My theories on the method used by Mobius to locate Loki is probably very far-fetched and lacks technical truth, but that's not the most important point here, so I hope you'll forgive me for my short cuts. (I miss them together!)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/32162878

2008 words - Rating G

"Loki! Wait!"

Loki looked at him for a moment before stepping through the portal.

By the time they got there, it was too late Loki and the portal was gone.

"I knew he would betray us as soon as he could!" said one of the hunters right next to Mobius.

"Shut up!" shouted Mobius at him before returning to the TVA.

As he walked toward Ravonna's office, the same thoughts swirled over and over in his head.

Had Loki betrayed him! What were his plans? But worst of all, was he in danger?

He tried to think rationally.

Loki always said he was one step ahead, but Mobius knew that wasn't true. Loki was improvising. Loki was adapting. So reason told Mobius that this is what he had done.

That's when Mobius decided to do something he'd never done in his life at the TVA, he was going to bet on chaos. On the fact that Loki had chosen to follow the variant not only for his own sake but also because it was his mission.

Because Mobius could not imagine that what they had shared was nothing in the eyes of the god.

"Mobius! In my office!"

Ravonna... he was already imagining her reprimands, "I warned you" "he can't be trusted"...

As soon as he entered her office, she showed him a screen and just said, "Look!"

A scene showing the variant fighting in a hallway with the guards and Loki in the locker room retrieving his daggers then arriving at the place where the guards were eliminated.

Next scene Loki and the variant fighting, Loki trying to convince her to team up, at this point, despite the faith he has in him, Mobius could not determine if this is a way to stop her or get what he wants.

Then Rovenna arrives and the variant uses Loki as a hostage.

Mobius could not prevent a gasp.

Still on the screen, seeing that Rovenna is not persuaded, Loki grabs an object that opens a portal above them and he and the Variant disappear.

Mobius tried not to show his relief, but he saw that Rovenna was not fooled.

"So you still trust him?"

Mobius looked at her defiantly, "As long as I don't have concrete, real proof that he betrayed us, yes I’ll trust him!"

"Always the idealistic dreamer huh?"

Mobius didn't answer, Rovenna continued, "You're grounded here until I tell you otherwise. You can get out."

Once out, Mobius sat in a chair, held his head in his hands, and began to think. He was grounded, but there was nothing to stop him from trying to figure out where Loki was.

He just had to figure out how to locate him.

The difference was that now, thanks to Loki, he knew to look in the apocalypses, what he had to find now was the equivalent of that candy, something out of the ordinary, something anachronistic.

He stood up suddenly, he had found it!

He went to the office, where the screen that displayed all the nexuses was located.

"Casey! Come here!"

The younger man got up and joined him. Mobius spoke more softly, "Will you help me with a secret project?"

Casey, who had great respect for the man, nodded.

"Follow me."

They headed into the archive room. Mobius chose a table a little out of the way.

"You sit here. I'll be right back."

A few minutes later, he returned with a stack of files that he separated into two piles.

"In all these apocalypses, we need to find one where it mentions two Lokis variants and unusual magical acts."

"Got it!"

Mobius didn't know if his smoky theory would work out, but he didn't have much choice.

He couldn't help but think back to a similar scene a few days earlier, when Loki had fallen asleep. He had let his guard down in the presence of Mobius, so that meant something, didn't it?

He started to flip through the files.

"M-Mobius! I think I've got it!"

Casey was showing him a file, Lamentis-1 - 2077, a woman reports that two demons tried to attack her. One even allegedly posed as her deceased husband in order to get information.

Mobius could feel it in his bones. It was Loki and the Variant.

He was going to have to gamble on someone again.

"Casey. I need you to keep this a secret for a while longer. If Ravonna gets wind of this, I'm afraid she'll launch an assault and won't hesitate to eliminate Loki."

Casey nodded without taking time to think, "As long as you need Mobius."

Mobius was surprised that he didn't have to persuade Casey more than that.

After all, he seemed to be the good, loyal employee who never disobeyed.

Casey, seeing his reaction, added with a knowing smile, "You know, I like Loki too. He promised me he'd show me what a fish is and you know? The drink he took from me the other day, he bought me another one and apologized. A villain wouldn't take the time to do something like that right?"

Mobius's throat tightened. Casey was the first person other than himself to acknowledge that there was good in Loki.

"Thanks."

Casey nodded and returned to his desk.

Mobius headed straight for the video archive room. The advantage of being an agent of his rank was that he had unrestricted access to this section of the archives.

He searched through the shelves until he found the videos of Lamentis 1 in 2077.

He sat down in front of one of the small projectors provided for this purpose. He was going to start from the described scene that Casey had shown him.

After entering a few parameters, the screen lit up with Loki being blasted by an old woman.

The noise of the meteors that rained down around

Loki and the one who accompanied him, prevented Mobius from hearing what was being said.He pressed the fast-forward button until Loki and the girl, after some trouble to enter the train, found themselves in a box in the dining car.

He turned up the volume to hear their conversation.

He was amazed at how easily they seemed to converse, despite the jabs on both sides, and couldn't help a twinge of annoyance that he refused to recognize as jealousy.

The variant said to Loki, mockingly, "FYI, that wasn't even a plan."

"Oh, really?"

God how Mobius missed that cheeky attitude. Even when unmasked, Loki still had that irritating confidence.

The variant replied, "Plans have multiple steps. Dressing as a guard and getting on a train is just doing a thing."

She couldn't hold back a yawn.

Loki responded, "Oh, are you a bit tired? Feel free to, you know, get some rest."

One thing Mobius had realized and Casey had confirmed to him just before was that Loki cared more about others than he let on if you paid attention.

The variant grunted and replied, "I can't sleep in a place like this."

"You can't sleep on a train?"

The variant retorted, irritated, "No. I can't sleep around untrustworthy people."

Loki replied, still cheeky, "Oh, right. That's me?"

Fearing he might misinterpret what had been said, Mobius pressed rewind and let the scene play out before him.

The image of Loki nodding in agreement about not being able to sleep near people he couldn't trust was superimposed on the image of Loki sound asleep in his company.

He could not suppress the pang of his heart.

Loki trusted him, Loki considered him trustworthy.

While he was thinking, the video had continued and Loki was now talking about his mother.

Mobius had witnessed Loki's relationship with his mother and his devastation at the news of her death.

Loki's voice had become more hushed, with that hint of fragility he had whenever he spoke of her.

"She was, um... A Queen of Asgard. She was good. Purely decent."

Then the variant and Loki respectively provoked each other about the fact that they were adopted and Loki continued, "You know, when I was young, she'd do these little bits of magic for me. Like turn a flower into a frog or cast fireworks over the water. It all seemed impossible. But she told me that I'd be able to do it too because... Because I could do anything. You wanna see?"

Loki sets off tiny fireworks over his hand.

Mobius could not deny his feelings at that moment.

The sight of magic coming from Loki's hands, pure magic, was enchanting.

Loki continued, "She was the kinda person you'd want to believe in you."

Mobius could not help but whisper, "Loki, I believe in you."

For a few moments he didn't catch the conversation until it was audible again. Apparently they were talking about their love interests.

The variant asked Loki, "How about you? You're a prince. Must've been would-be-princesses or perhaps, another prince." She finished with a wink.

Loki, replied with a serious look, "A bit of both. I suspect the same as you. But, nothing ever..."

The variant finished his sentence, "real."

"Let me find you and I'll prove to you how real it is." Mobius didn't realize he was speaking aloud. He pushed fast-forward again.

The Variant had fallen asleep and Loki looked a little giddy.

Loki waved his hand and was back in his TVA agent costume.

He could wear the illusion of any outfit, and he chose this one. Why stay in these clothes?

Mobius really didn't want to be under any illusions, because how could he imagine that someone like Loki, a prince, a god, would want to claim a belonging to something like the TVA... to someone like Mobius?

Loki had started to dance and sing.

Mobius could not help but laugh. Then his laughter died down as Loki's song became more melancholic,

I stormsvarte fjell, jeg vandrer alene

Over isbreen tar jeg meg frem

I eplehagen står møyen den vene

og synger "når kommer du hjem?"

Men traner danser og fossene stanser

når hun synger, hun synger "kom hjem"

Then seeming to regain his spirits, Loki began to dance and sing happily again as if trying to prevent nostalgia from invading him.

When the music stopped, he joined the Variant and resumed his seat in front of him. Mobius managed to understand what they were saying to each other.

"What did you just sing to look so disturbed?"

Loki looked a little moved and answered him with the voice Mobius knew well, the one he used when he was serious, when he was sincere.

"It's Asgardian, it says:

In storm-black mountains, I wander alone

Over the glacier I make my way

In the apple garden stands the maiden fair and sings,

"When will you come home?"

Loki stopped, apparently moved, and the Variant simply said, "So there's a would-be-princess somewhere..."

Loki chuckled looking so sad before answering her, "I like metaphors you know, it's not a princess it's a prince, and I don't know if he's waiting for me or hoping to see me again, it's not even really my home, but..."

"But you'd like to believe that right?"

Loki nodded.

Mobius, didn't dare to believe that it was him that Loki was talking about, even though he couldn't stop the hope from rising up inside him.

The video continued, much more animated, after a wild fight, both jumped off the moving train and found themselves walking through a kind of desert towards the energy source they apparently needed to reactivate the tempad.

Mobius saw Loki suddenly stop, looking shocked. But Mobius was unable to hear what they were saying, the sound of the meteors again covering their voices.

Suddenly, Loki shouted louder, "But they don't know that!"

And they began to run.

Mobius could see that Loki was repeating something as he ran, an expression that Mobius had never seen on his face. Like he was worried. But he couldn't hear him. He zoomed in closer to try to read Loki's lips and finally succeeded.

Mobius.

_________

The whole serie here : The story of Loki and Mobius

Not beta'd I hope you enjoyed it 🥰

[survivalxofxthexfittest]

The shared status of Ash and Sada being chosen to join in the ranks of the Rose family hadn't mattered to John-Paul before and it wouldn't now - regardless of how angry he was with her at the moment. There wasn't a choice between them. It was, and always would be, both. He would just need to learn how to navigate the thin, fragile line he toed by keeping his loyalty where it lay. "Yeah, well, how else do you think I know how to cut deep when I want to?" he asked rhetorically. "Family," he explained simply.

Bittersweet as it was, it was a victory that Ash hadn't once again dismissed John-Paul's mentioning of the two men being involved in any way deeper than friendship. What little spike of joy he'd felt over Ash finally admitting there as something there dissipated almost as soon as it came, Ash's panic almost visible in the dim light of the moon. "Haven't yet," he reminded him with a small shake of his head. "And I don't see a reason to start telling anyone," he added in assurance. He knew all too well what it felt like to want bits and pieces to remain hidden.

"I'm not trying to start up all the shit again, but I would think it's pretty fucking apparent no one tells me anything," he went on with a sigh, leaning against the railing. "So, no, she hasn't told me. Why do you think I had to ask?" he added rhetorically, though his self-disappointemtent was evident. He picked at his fingers, trying his best to focus his gaze as they blurred the longer he stared at them. He knew he was a lot of things, but he'd always be proud of his trustworthiness. It was a hard blow to find out it had all been an illusion.

"Look, I don't know what the fuck is going to happen after all this shit, but I know one thing and that's that your still one of us. I don't care whatever the fuck is going on between you and Sada, don't ever doubt that again. Alright," he told him, finally letting his gaze find Ash once more. " And.....I'm....sorry. I never meant to make you feel like you weren't. I promise you'll always have me, no matter what, okay?"

"You're fucking family!" he roared, reminiscent of his older brother. "That's what you are. And to the Roses, that matters. What do we have to do to make you believe that?" he asked almost rhetorically. Being accepted as one of them was a fucking honor that Ash should have just taken. He didn't have to keep doubting himself like he was and, mad or not, that broke John-Paul's heart. "Fuck Sada," he said surprisingly even for him, but he was pissed at her for keeping her mouth shut and even madder with the possible truth to Ashton's revelations. "When have we ever made you feel anything less than one of us?"

Why else would he have gotten so mad at him for keeping things from him. He had, for the most part, been honest and open with him. With the important stuff anyway. John-Paul didn't understand why Ashton felt he couldn't do the same. Or how he had been so blind to the fact that his friend had been suffering so badly because of the woman he considered a mother. What anger he'd felt at the party had, by now, dissipated into a self-reflective hatred. Had he really made Ash feel like he couldn't be trusted?

"All of it," he answered as if it had been a question when Ash scoffed. Then he shut the fuck up and let him talk.

His brow furrowed in deep regret when he fully realized he hadn't been the safe space he'd thought he was for him, the pain in Ash's eyes nearly fatal. Worse still he remembered overhearing Amelia say something about a break-in during a facetime call. And how, when he asked about it, it had been brushed off as misplacing her earrings. What Ash didn't know was that he'd asked Sada to use her connections just to check it out, worried about Amelia's safety, and he been reassured she was fine. Had Sada lied to him?

He gave a short, silent nod when he asked about his telescope - because yes he did remember Charlie trying to get some money together some years back. And how he'd given her most of what she was needing when he finally got her to admit why she'd needed it. However, he'd been given a story of Ash dropping it. John-Paul suddenly felt like he didn't know anyone anymore, each confession distorting the reality he once knew.

The realization of what an asshole he'd been was now painfully obvious to him. But how did he say sorry now. "If it means anything at this point I'm glad you didn't leave," he offered quietly. "You could tell me why she has such a hard on for you," he added crudely. "Is it over Jer?" he guessed, Ash's feelings for his brother unspoken knowledge between the two.

[pagetreader-archived]

It was good to hear someone use biblical reference these days, Alicent herself a devout woman who always made time to visit her church every early morning once her husband had been properly fed and situated in his study with servants nearby to attend him. To know that a man, at such a young age, saw value in the holy pages was a relief. It gave her hope, however small it seemed. 

He was right. She’d never heard of Setauket, nor many of the small hamlets that littered the coast, for that matter. Alicent had grown up in luxury. Perhaps not the richest sort, as her husband provided, but luxury, all the same. Certainly much better off than many who worked hard to know life’s comforts. 

With a gentle and timid smile, he looked away from her and Alicent found herself tilting her head to better discern the features of his face he attempted to hide as he busied his hands, "Am I allowed to reciprocate the question, or would that be too personal?"

“It wouldn’t,” she assured, “I grew up in Boston, but spent much time in Philadelphia where my father traveled to do business. When I was nineteen, he arranged my marriage to my husband, Viserys, who was an old friend of his. Vis had recently lost his first wife in childbirth. We've been married for almost twenty years now, so I suppose Philadelphia has become my home, albeit in name only.” 

Though did she really mean to say that Boston felt more like home to her? In truth, she didn’t know what home felt like. Alicent was more a stranger, even in her own skin, most of the time, displaced and unknown to herself. 

Benjamin must have felt more comfortable than before, for he’d decided to take the adjacent seat. From this distance, it was easier to tell how handsome he was. There was a softness to his masculine features, though it did little to detract from his maturity.

His lips were pleasantly shaped, full, but chapped from lack of proper hydration – no doubt a symptom of the limited rations a soldier lived on, even one of higher rank. Beneath thick and stern  eyebrows rested saddened eyes, a sadness that appeared to match her own in some ways.  

"You mentioned an ailing husband," he cautiously treaded. "If you wish, I could have a messenger deliver news of your son's condition? I imagine that any father would wish to know..."

“Any father but Aegon’s, I assume.” she coolly corrected, intuitively glancing in her son’s direction to make sure he was still sleeping, “He’s never forgiven either of our boys for joining the Continental Army, and has stubbornly refused to speak to them since. When I informed him of Aegon's misfortune he merely shook his head and said he'd tried to warn them that no good could come of rebellion.”  

Alicent’s eyes fixed back on her newfound companion and she revised her statement, “I don’t believe my husband has any real love for the King, but he’s a fragile man who would rather avoid conflict if it means the peace is kept, or at least the illusion of it.”

There was no real peace to be had so long as they lived beneath the boot of a tyrant. Alicent had personal dealings with what it was like to be powerless, to have no control of her life and destiny. She could hardly blame anyone for risking their lives for even the hope of freedom, recollecting the empowering words of America's Declaration of Independence:

“We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness.”

Oh, what a joy it might be, were she to have been born a man. Perhaps then she might know what it was to taste freedom.

“Forgive my melancholy,” she sighed, running her hand down her face, “You’ve been very accommodating and thoughtful, and I repay you by inducing misery.”

“Perhaps our weaknesses and selfish ambitions are precisely why our civilizations always destroy themselves.” 

Benjamin rolled his lips inward, unsure if he wished to agree -- or rather, if Alicent would even wish for such dismal affirmatives.

"Mankind is flawed," he finally allowed, his voice soft. "We've been ripe with sin and evil ever since the Garden of Eden...it's just our way." Here, he offered a feeble smile. "However, I suppose that's why I strive to at the very least offer an alternative. I've never been much for following the crowd."

Before either of them could speak, Aegon cried out in agony, causing Benjamin to jerk and turn away, if only to afford the mother and son a modicum of privacy. In his experience, the soldiers he commanded didn't wish to express weakness around their officers; it was misplaced pride, though a silent plea he would always honor.

At long last, the poor boy quieted to a series of raspy whimpers, and then Alicent was once more redirecting her attention.

“Ben, then," she said, drawing his gaze away from the wall. “And where does a gentleman like yourself hail from?”

"Setauket," Benjamin replied, his tone soft and wistful. "I don't expect you to have ever heard of it...it's a small farm town alongside the ocean...a mere hamlet." Smiling, he looked away again, absently fiddling with the buttons on his cuff. "Am I allowed to reciprocate the question, or would that be too personal?"

In war, very little was considered too forthcoming. A man could be here one moment and then gone the next, so in a manner of speaking, it was almost a comfort to talk about oneself -- that way, a part of each discussed man was always guaranteed to live on.

Glancing in between Alicent and the chair across from Aegon's bed, Benjamin ultimately succumbed and took the neighboring seat, sinking down slowly. "You mentioned an ailing husband," he cautiously treaded. "If you wish, I could have a messenger deliver news of your son's condition? I imagine that any father would wish to know..."