#i tell the gentlemen and they gotta get emotional

[dyrewrites]

"I'm supposed to be studying mechs this weekend, your dad gave me anime homework."

"But you're writing your gay knights doing the sex instead?"

"They're not even doing that. They were supposed to but I guess it's chapters of longing first. All my men do is long for others."

"Your men are weird."

"I think my men are normal, maybe you're weird."

"No, they're weird."

"You've never longed for anything?"

"No."

"Snuggles? You don't long for snuggles, maybe sweet little kisses?"

"Okay...maybe...maybe you got me there."

"See. Longing. Horrible longing. Totally normal men. Now, if someone could explain why they're obsessed with romance and the women I write are hoes that would be nice. Actually no. Nevermind. I don't need that. Don't tell me."

He wasn't listening anymore, I was halfway downstairs, talking to myself...

You men and your longing.

[moonlight-prose]

this one from the touch-starved prompt list w logan 😩🫶:

when the other holds onto their waist briefly as they're passing by and it just send chills down their spine

don't mind me

a/n: i need you to know this is pure softness and i am swooning at the thought of how sweet it is. logan is such a gentlemen (cue his words in the wolverine about being old fashioned) and just this thought of him being gentle with the reader, but also respectful. i'm dead. i'm also attached af to this dynamic and would be so open to exploring more with these two. i see the logan here as dofp!logan (especially at the end with that shirt).

summary: you refused to admit that you were smitten with the man who melted your otherwise intelligent mind. you were however...horrible with subtlety. luckily the same could be said for him.

pairing: logan howlett x reader

word count: 1k

warnings: none, fluff, logan howlett is a tease, blossoming of a relationship.

Chaos remained the baseline state when it came to life at the mansion. You couldn't find a way to escape something so natural—a piece of your existence that settled in close to your heart. You liked hearing the children's voices raise in pitch the more excited they got. You liked being showered in hellos as you passed through the halls.

You'd even grown fond of the way you always somehow found yourself stuck in this particular situation. Standing in the kitchen, searching for food, as Logan attempted to make his way through the busy environment.

Few things made you smile the way seeing him in the mornings did. Mussed hair, eyes glazed in partial drowsiness, as he sought for the largest mug tucked in the back of the cabinets. A gag gift from Scott with the claim that the Wolverine needed a cup that could handle him.

(Neither of them would admit it, but the gift remained Logan's favorite piece in the house. A staple in his usual rushed breakfast.)

"Have a nice night?" you asked, attempting to keep your gaze from dropping to his chest.

The white beater he wore never seemed to get old; you absolutely didn't mind seeing him in it at the start of your days.

He grinned, polite and gentlemanly and never anything more. There came days where you wondered if the tension you felt hanging in the air was merely a figment of your imagination. Possibly a delusion to help you cope with such early time slots and late night papers to grade.

"I heard you down here last night."

A grunt rumbled from deep in his chest as he took a sip of coffee large enough to scald his mouth. Screams filtered in through the open doors, quickly followed by a group of kids ready to rummage in the cabinets you both occupied. Which meant your short allotted time with him would soon come to an end, forcing you to pick it up tomorrow morning.

"You want something to eat?" Nodding to the stove with a pan coated in leftover burnt bacon (Scott's attempt at cooking for the kids), you watched Logan's face screw up slightly.

Who could blame him. You wouldn't eat it either.

"Coffee's fine," he mumbled, pouring another helping before small hands were shoving open the door to a variety of cereal. "Gotta get to my class."

You nodded. "History. Right."

He hummed, entirely aware of what occurred inside your chest. How you fidgeted slightly with the watch on your wrist, your eyes unable to remain stuck on his for longer than a few seconds at a time. Logan wasn't an idiot. He understood the tells long before you would dare to admit them out loud.

Clearing your throat, you set your now empty mug in the sink—shifting out of the way to give the students more room. Though the mornings began with enough chaos to keep you on your toes, it was seeing Logan that put you on edge.

The emotions that rifled through your mind mere moments after stepping into his proximity. You began to wonder if there was a way to fix this. Put a stop to how you pined (rather pathetically) over a man who clearly held no interest. You had half a mind to ask Charles for assistance—knowing full well you'd never get over the sheer mortification.

He might laugh—ask if you were in your right mind—but he'd never hold it over you like the others.

But that predicament would have to be settled at a later time. As of two minutes ago...you were late for your first class. The lecture notes were still buried in a stack on your desk; you made a mental note to pick them up on the way.

"Have a good class." Offering a smile, you moved to step out of his way.

Only for the timing (and quite possibly the universe itself) to lead towards you stumbling back from three students barreling towards the kitchen.

His hands latched onto your waist, steadying your movements with a soft grunt, and you tried your best not to choke on your spit. That sound. His touch. You wouldn't make it through the day without those small aspects of him entering your mind—distracting any viable insights you might have had on astronomy as a whole.

Did he have any clue what he did to you?

Or was he merely toying with you on purpose?

Glancing over your shoulder, you caught the small grin that appeared on his face. Barely there yet bright enough to punch a hole right through your chest. He stood tall behind you. A wall you could very well fall into without any worries. That alone left you clutching for some bits of your sanity—whatever remained now sparse enough to be considered laughable.

You tried not to think about the skin you caught small glimpses of in training last week. The sight haunted you for a week—fraying the edges of your mind and turning you to mush. For fucks sake you were a professor. You held enough intelligence to keep Charles Xavier on his toes when wrapped in conversation.

Yet Logan fucking Howlett managed to undo everything that made you the person you were before him now. He muddled what aptitude you had and rendered you entirely dumb.

Some days it left you seething—desperate for a chance to get back at him.

Other days you longed for its familiar warmth.

"You alright there bub?" he rasped, hands still pressed to your hips.

Fighting against your own mind, you plastered a smile on your lips—hoping he might ignore the flutter of your heart. "I'm fine! Thanks for that."

"Have a good day," he replied, his palm brushing the base of your spine as he stepped around you.

Chills clashed with a bewildering heat and curled around your stomach, teasing you with the prospect of his touch somewhere else. You watched his grin deepen, eyes dark with something you'd never before witness from the Wolverine. Want.

"Yeah..." You sucked in a breath, flustered beyond what you could contain in your own body. "You too."

He ducked out towards the hallway long before you had a chance to melt into the floor. A small chuckle resounding in the small confines of the kitchen. Slamming into your chest with enough power to leave you winded.

On your rush to the classroom you finalized your decision.

You'd make that meeting with Charles after all.

[oonajaeadira]

A Welcome Home At Resolution Ranch

Fandom: Kingsman: The Golden Circle / Jack "Whiskey" Daniels

Pairing: Jack Daniels x reader

Reader: Adult female. Former agent, now the manager at a guest ranch. No other physical descriptors; no use of y/n.

Rating: T. Fluff.

Warnings: A little bit of angst, but on the edge of healing

Summary: When the news comes through that Jack met his end in Cambodia, you know better.

A/N: Well howdy, friends, and welcome to a good, soft, fix-it fic. What inspired this? @writeforfandoms did when she sent in an ask for a game....

"I wish you would write a fic where Jack is fine and nothing hurts and there are stars in the sky and there is plenty of banter and softness. Maybe horses."

Since her birfday is this week and writing Jack for each other is a love language, this is especially for her. <3

“You sure I’m ready to go on my own?”

Charity is a good girl. A little accident-prone at times, sure, but it’s mainly out of a lack of confidence. She’s got a real knack with the horses though, and you’ve learned to let her be on hand whenever the ranch has new guests check in; that million-watt smile of hers is worth a welcome mat covered in gold. She is Jack’s kin in every way, except he sucked up all the ego in the family and left little over for his niece.

Handing her the roster clipboard, you grant her an approving grin. “You grew up on these trails. You know them better than I ever will. You’re every ounce the guide any of us are. Now you’ve got eight guests riding with you this evening, two of them are about your age, and pretty handsome young gentlemen. You’re about to win the hearts of some suitors with that sweetness of yours…and if not, then for sure their grandparents. Have fun. Oh,” you remember, pointing to a name on the roster, “this lady here is a bit of a tick, but she has it bad for Morgans. Put her on Sasha and she’ll be shining so bright there’s nothing gonna dim her stars.”

“But Sasha’s your horse.”

“She won’t mind. Now get. And remember–”

Charity rolls her eyes. “Don’t let anyone tell me that they know horses better than I do, I know.”

“Good girl. Now you do a good job on your first solo run and I’ll have a big surprise waiting for you when you come back, hear?”

“I’m not a kid. I don’t need a reward.”

Turning the girl around by the shoulders and sending her off in the direction of the stables, you refrain from swatting her playfully, showing her the respect of a coworker. “And I’m not baking you cookies either. I’m not going with you tonight because I have something I gotta do. You’ll get the benefit of that thing whether you do a good job or not. I was trying to be encouraging.”

Her black braid swings down her back as she walks off to her task–both excited and scared, clutching the clipboard with both hands. 

“Oh, and Charry?” She stops to turn and listen. “Don’t put anyone on Whiplash. Leave her in the stable tonight.”

Once she’s given you a nod and marched out of sight, you wander back into the main lodge and relieve everyone for a few hours. You’re ready to take the front desk on your own. No worries, you explain, there’s only one guest booked to come in in the next hour and everyone else is out on the twilight ride. You’ll take it from here.

Once the lobby is quiet, you prop yourself out on the porch in a rocking chair with your boots up on the railing, tip your hat down low, and keep your eyes on the horizon--gradually more pink and gold by the minute--where any cars coming over the mile-long driveway can’t pass your notice.

It’s been six years now since you were secretly decommissioned from Statesman and your agent status revoked. Emotional trauma is a hell of a thing, and some agents take a beating. When head of the organization deems an agent unfit for duty with needs of long-term recovery and care, it’s their call to order it and–with the help of one other top officer–secretly install the probationed agent in a situation where they are anonymous and removed from any society that they could harm or could harm them. The organizational file would relate how the agent was killed in action, with the true story being kept by the two in charge. A total erasure of personage, total disappearance.

If and when the agent passed an evaluation and elected to return, they became extremely valuable as a secret operative, since everyone would assume they were deceased. 

If they decided not to return, the agency made sure they were provided for. For life.

Sometimes they came back; thrill of the hunt, what they know best and all that. But overall, the return rate was low. Something about a slow down calls after a life of deception.

In your case, Jack was chosen as Champ’s second and–having always been one of the only agents that damn cowboy liked working with–suggested you head up his family ranch for your rehab period. Tasked you with making it a nice working vacation ranch for families. Came out and visited you often enough to make sure you were getting on.

And, of course, to make sure you were getting off too. 

There was a lot of hay on property, and Jack was a damn nice rolling partner. Said that he liked that he never had to pretend with you. Not now, not ever.

And you always felt exactly the same.

But the timing was never perfect. And the world had always needed one or the other of you to save it.

Distractions.

After the requisite five year probation, Champ and Jack made the ceremonial trip out and asked if you’d like to be re-evaluated and “reborn”. As much as you’d been itching during the first couple of years to get back in the game, the quiet life had softened your body and won your heart. You’d gained the trust of the employees. Knew all the horses and their idiosyncracies by heart. It had become your home. Walking away to spend days without sleep, lying, taking lives without stopping to think twice….just didn’t appeal anymore.

With Champ’s understanding, you had respectfully retired, and with Jack’s blessing, you’d planted yourself permanently. The ranch was your calling. Your heart. Even with some of Jack’s relatives working and living here it could get lonely at times, but then you’d catch yourself watching the fireflies in the sunset or riding Sasha through a particularly pretty meadow and everything seemed right with the world.

And hells. If the lack of companionship was the only thing you had to complain about, well the universe must have heard. It’s rung the hospitality bell for you.

Taking the letter out of your pocket, you glance over it one more time. An announcement of an agent down. Cambodia. Drug conspiracy. Agents Galahad, Galahad, and Merlin of Kingmen, London. Agent Whiskey showing mental trauma and poor judgment. A violent engagement. A meat grinder. Signed by Head Agent Champagne.

So that’s the story they assigned him, huh. A meat grinder? Really? So stupid. But then, you got to assist in penning your own death, so it makes all the sense in the world that Jack got to have a say in his. Of course he was going to go out in the corniest way possible, of course he was.

Tsk. A meat grinder. Jesus.

Before long, the stars are starting to peek out and there’s a plume of dust on the horizon. Then a black car at the core of it, making its way along the drive. By the time it pulls up in front of the porch, you’ve hidden the letter back in your pocket, stood and made your way to the bottom of the steps. 

Two doors open. From the front a driver emerges, short and sturdy, young and hale, heading for the trunk to retrieve luggage. But when the back door opens, there’s the duo of a boot and a Stetson which emerge together then unfold into a tall, cool drink of Jack Daniels.

It’s a showdown at twilight, but you both keep your hearts in your holster for the time being and instead reach for your sass. “Driver? This here’s a working ranch, so you can just leave the luggage. Guests here are required to haul their own.”

They do as they’re told with a nod, dropping two suitcases and a duffel in the dust. The whole time Jack stands, unmoving, hands on hips, watching with a bemused incredulity as the driver then simply gets back behind the wheel and literally drives off into the sunset, leaving Jack's bags like carrion.

“Well shit. Is that any way to welcome a man home?”

“Maybe I just wanted you all to myself, cowboy. You ever think of that?”

There’s a delicious moment underscored by cricket strings that allows for both of your grins to stretch to full capacity.

But still, he’s a man whose wind has abandoned his sails and you both know why he’s here. It doesn’t mean he’s not still Jack Daniels though. And while he might not come at you with an oppressive swagger, he still comes to you, the cockiness giving way to a genuine fondness.

“Well. Hello, gorgeous.”

“Let me guess,” you tease, opening your arms to guide him to his landing, “You have a pack of cold ones and your roomie’s out so I can scream your name as loud as I want.”

His embrace is more than just happiness to see you. It’s heavy with relief, with longing. He needs it from you as much as you from him, and he hums low into your neck as he lifts you so that your toes just leave the ground before plopping you back down. This is the point where the usual hug might end, but he stays. He stays just a few more breaths and you can tell he’s taking a cure in the moment.

“Come on, cowboy,” you hum into his shoulder. “Let me help you with these bags. I prepared the best room in the house for you.”

Silently, you both heft a suitcase and he takes the extra duffel, and you make it up the stairs of the main house to the biggest bedroom and flip on the light.

“Isn’t this your bedroom, Brandy?”

Throwing a suitcase on the quilted bed you shake a finger at him. “Uh uh uh, that’s not my name anymore, Whiskey.”

He follows suit, unburdening himself. “And that’s not mine. Belongs to Ginger now.”

You can’t--and won't--hide your delight. “Well hot shit. Good for her. She’s always wanted to go out into the field.” But it’s also bittersweet. It's been six years. “How is my girl?” 

“Oh, she’s doing real fine. Took over as Champ’s right hand when I went out and Tequila hopped the pond to work for those Brits.”

“Damn. Well, I’m proud of her. I wish I could tell her. If I could have just had one more agent to keep in touch with….wait.” Something in Jack’s little smile gives you pause. “Waaaaait a minute. Did she–???”

He finishes the thought for you. “With the transfer of title, she also became Champ’s number two. So she’s got access your retirement file. I’m sure she’ll be booking a vacation here soon enough.”

Turning to the window and clamping a hand over your mouth, you hold your own reflection and do your best to keep the tears for later. It’s been six years and your old friend is in Kentucky right now, finding out any day now that you’re not dead after all, that you’re only a plane ride away. A long dreamed-for reunion is coming. Oh god. 

But Jack’s here now, and he’s going to need your support. And of course he’ll demand your attention–”You never answered my question. Where are you sleeping if I’m in here?”

Turning to him, you wink. “Who said I was moving out of this room?” His blush signals that you’ve just out-Jacked Jack Daniels. Stepping in closer, you take his hand. “Hey. I just wanted to give you a view of the stables. If you want me here, I’ll share the room with you. If not, the guest room is free and I’m comfortable sleeping there too. This is your home now, cowboy. I want you to see the sun in the morning. Give you a reason to get up every day.”

“Sunshine’s wherever you are, partner. It’d actually be real nice to have a reason to stay in bed.”

His words spread through you like a good bourbon. “Good. I was hoping you’d say that.” It’s a warm moment, new for both of you. Instead of the thrill of the promise of sharing a bed and the obvious adventure that awaits, you have something now that you both never had before–time. Time to hold. Time to breathe. Time to heal and take it soft and slow. “Come on, cowboy. I wanna show you something.”

Picking up his Stetson from the bed, you place it lovingly on his head, your fingertips lingering as they trail down his sideburns. He wears the hat well, and the facial hair. And the deep adoration. Before he gets lost in the moment, you lead him out of the main house and down toward the stables.

“So. A meat grinder.”

He grins as he watches his feet, big hands swinging at his side. “Can’t blame a man for people wanting to remember his demise. That one’ll be talked about.”

“Little over the top, isn’t it?”

“That’s the way I went in, apparently.”

“Stupidest death I’ve ever heard of.”

“But you’ll remember it, won’t you.”

Rolling your eyes, you lead him to one of the front stalls of the stable. “Yeah, but I’d never believe it. Jack Daniels? Taken down by an unarmed, unstable agent and his apprentice? This hulk of a man tossed around and yanked into a grinder as if there’s one big enough to take you?”

“You’re real hung up on the meat grinder part, aren’t you. You do know the target was actually processing people and making them into burgers, right? I don’t see why it’s so unbelievable–” But he stops like stone when you reach your target stall. “Is that…Well slap my chaps. That’s the prettiest mustang I’ve ever seen.”

“You like her?” Clicking your tongue, the lithe and beautiful bay immediately comes to you, tossing her mane, ready for the apple you’ve got on offer. And when you hide it behind your back, she knows to put her nose to yours, to nuzzle you gently. “This is Whiplash. Fast as a shooting star and twice as bright. Picked her out myself. Helped Charity to train her up, which is why she’s also sweet. That girl has the patience of a saint. Must get it from the other side of the family. But this mare was a passion project for both of us. Thought you might like to claim her,” you say, handing the apple over to him and, with it, Whiplash’s attentions. “Anytime you need to clear your head, she’ll run you to the moon and back.”

Jack holds out the apple reverently with one hand, running the other along the mare’s neck. “Always wanted a mustang. Thought I’d have to settle for the automotive variety. They’re not the kind of horse you keep at a pedestrian ranch for just anyone to ride.”

“I know. It was meant to be a surprise for your next visit. But now that you’re here to stay, she’s even more yours than she was before.”

Now it’s Jack’s turn to hold those tears for later, his beautiful brown eyes gathering up all the rising moonlight. Swallowing hard, he gives you a nod, a thanks that he can’t put into words just yet. Instead, he deflects. “Where is my favorite niece?”

“Your only niece is out leading a twilight ride. It’s her first lead. I told her I’d have a reward waiting for her when she got back as long as all the guests are alive and kicking. She doesn’t know you’re coming yet.”

He nods. Goes back to petting Whiplash. The full day and the journey finally come to settle on him and all his thoughts seem to rise to the surface and float in his tired expression.

You reach out. Hook a finger in his belt loop and give it a coy tug. “Hey. Can I ask you...what happened, Jack?”

He has to take a breath. Two. Then he gives Whiplash a final pat and takes your hand, weaving it through the crook of his arm, and you wander out into the darkening pasture together.

The mission was nearly doomed from the start. With Tequila down and Harry still recovering and Eggsy still green, it was just a mess. It didn’t help that his heart wasn’t in it, that he kept thinking about his loss so many years ago, that maybe it was better if all the addicts were just taken down in one fell swoop so they could stop hurting themselves and everyone else. Running the New York branch and distribution on top of fucking saving the world every five minutes–the burnout was getting to him and just made him fixate more. 

Harry saw through him but misinterpreted his reluctance. Harry shot him to take him out of commission, knowing full well that Ginger could fix him. Jack went back into action too soon, too hot. Went straight to Cambodia. Joined in the fray. Ended up taking out his rage on Poppy and brutally jamming a needle in her neck, overdosing and killing her rather than neutralizing her and taking her in as he should have. Harry and Eggsy were kind. Stood up for him with Champ. Helped to corroborate a story so he could step down. Jack let the record show that they were the heroes so they could go back to the Kingsmen in triumph and he could heal in peace.

This is what surprises you the most.

That Jack let himself go down as the bad guy.

“You could have just said you were taken down by one of Poppy’s men and walked away a martyr.”

He simply watches the first fireflies come out in answer to the first stars, squeezes your hand a little tighter, shakes his head. “If I’d had my head in the game, a good agent wouldn’t have died. Merlin. His name was Agent Merlin. Damn fine man. And if Harry and Eggsy hadn’t been the excellent agents they are, my lapse of judgment could have killed a lot more folks. This is my way to atone.”

“And there’s no way in hell you’d let anyone think you got taken down by some nameless thug.”

“Shit. Got me there.”

All you can do is show agreement with a knowing nod. “You know, when I first came out here, I couldn’t wait to leave. But you knew, didn’t you. You knew that I needed this.”

“I did.”

“Cocky bastard,” you mumble in loving admonishment. “Did you understand that you were nearing the end too? That you were sending me out here to give me time to be ready to bring you home?”

“I wasn’t aware of it at the time, probably a little too confident to ever think I should stop.” He turns to you, a sweet little apology in the corner of his smile. “But maybe a little part of me knew.”

“Yeah, that little part of you has gotten me into trouble before.”

He huffs a little laugh, tilts your chin up with a knuckle. Still holding your hand and sliding it inside his jacket against his chest he whispers, “Ain’t the part I was talking about, sweetheart.”

When he kisses you, it’s a different Jack than the one you used to settle for on occasion. This Jack is ready to put down his revolvers and his whip, ready to concentrate on himself, on you, on a life far from trouble. His kiss holds in it the promise of summer sunsets and long trail rides, of barbecues and lemonade and lazy mornings sleeping in. And there will be stars that are brighter...and nights under them for just the two of you. It’s a kiss that leaves no doubt that there will be many more to follow, each one with its own brand of sweetness and a happy ending well-earned.

No more distractions.

Time enough.

_____

MASTERLIST

CHARACTER MASTERLIST

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

*points a microphone as if i was a news reporter*

“monsieur rollo, monsieur rollo! a moment of your time please~ is this school exchange teaching you some things? mind telling us your thoughts, let us in your head awhile~?”

*shoves the mic further into his face annoyingly — definitely on purpose too, to see his reaction.*

The way TWST EN localized some of Rollo’s non-punny JP lines has made me think he’s a fan of dry humor and/or makes the worst puns possible but says it in a super serious tone 😭

Like Fire, Hellfire.

The cold metal of the microphone pressed uncomfortably into Rollo's cheek, in the area right between his chin and the corner of his mouth. The infamous handkerchief won’t be coming to his rescue anytime soon, you snickered internally. A devil on your left shoulder, and a second devil on your right.

You were in the mood for making mischief today.

“Excuse me, you’re a bit too close for comfort…” He tried to gracefully put distance between you and himself—but his back hit the wall of the main school building. To Rollo’s annoyance, you only advanced, further encroaching on his space.

Wearing a dumb, broad smile, you twisted your mic, intentionally digging it further into his skin. Goading him. Your voice was a steady whine as you repeated your questions.

His reaction—would it be as explosive as you had hoped? Would he just grimace and shoo you away? You so desperately wanted to push his buttons and get your answer (or, as Ace so poetically put it, "fuck around and find out").

Realizing he was effectively cornered, Rollo clenched his teeth behind closed lips (you noticed a little muscle in his jaw feathering) and straightened his robes. Pressing a finger to the mic, he lowered it from his face and pushed it back toward you. The entire time, his expression was the picture of calm, relaxed.

But his eyes—oh, his eyes—told an entirely different story. They smoldered with the flare of an intense emotion. The longer you look, the more powerful it grows, swelling into a raging inferno of hatred.

He must be thinking about exploding me with his mind or something!! you thought excitedly. Now if only you could coax that reaction to the surface—

“… You must be a member of the school’s Newspaper Club,” he said. Polite, discreet, calculated. Clearly considering his public image. “I’ve seen you in walking around campus and thrusting a camera in students’ faces as well.”

“Kinda! My unofficial job’s to record all the interesting happenings on and off campus—and you’re of great interest to us and our reader base, Monsieur Rollo!” You rocked back and forth on the balls of your feet. “C’mon, the people are dying to know! Spill the tea. What’s shakin’, bacon?

Rollo took one look at you, then at your waiting mic, which you wielded like a weapon.

“… Your appetite, clearly,” he said dryly. Then, weaving his fingers together at your lack of a reaction, he continued, “There is not much to tell. Quality instructors and facilities… Night Raven College is just as excellent of a learning institution as they say it is. There is good reason for it to be considered the highest standard for other arcane academies to follow. Anyone fortunate enough to attend this school is sure to have a most charmed education.”

He’s just saying the generic nice things he thinks everyone wants to hear! It’s like he’s reading off of a NRC school brochure…!

“Oh, I’m sure there’s gotta be something juicy to share! Maybe you have an old score to settle with some known faces on campus?” you asked, wiggling you brows suggestively. “You know, a heated rivalry? A blood feud? Sworn vengeance?”

Rollo deadpanned. The angry fire in his eyes hissed. “I’m not certain what you’re referring to. I have only ever encountered gentlemen here on campus.”

It was, perhaps, the biggest lie Rollo had ever uttered.

How many times had he brandished his handkerchief to disguise his disgust? How many times had he turned the other cheek when he wanted nothing more than to unleash his fury upon some miscreant mage? How many times had he snapped, like crackling fire?

You stared at him doubtfully.

“Hmmm. Maybe I’m not asking the right things,” you mused, rolling your next inquiry around on your tongue. “You’ve told me about your general experience and your feelings on your classmates. What’s the biggest takeaway from this whole school exchange?”

There was a pause.

Fire, assuming a new form.

When he speaks again, his voice is solemn yet resolute. Like the toll of a great bell.

Each word carefully selected, only the ripest and most ready of grapes plucked from the vine which they hung. (He imagined flattening you like one for your insolence, for forcing him to speak positively of NRC, and the gruesome image granted him fleeting solace.)

“… I am now cognizant that there is a vast difference between myself and the students of Night Raven College. Truly, this experience has been most humbling.”

Rollo thoughtfully rubbed at the red gemstone set in his ring. The motion seemingly placated the fire scorching in his expressionless face.

It wasn’t an untruth, he reasoned. Indeed, this whole charade had been a wake-up call, exposing him to the full extent of the evil brewing at this institution. Observing the enemy up-close had been extremely enlightening.

He had so much farther to go if he wished to extinguish it all.

“More than ever, I realize I must dedicate my efforts to closing that gap. As student council president, it falls upon my shoulders to lead my peers. Noble Bell College will not lose in its endeavor to live up to the spirit for which is stands for, and in educating the youth of tomorrow.”

He expels a puff of air—as if he had been holding it in all this time. “That is all I have to say on the matter. Then, if you will pardon me, I must be on my way to my next lecture…”

Before even waiting for your response, Rollo started to briskly walk away.

“H-Hey, wait!! Get back here!! This interview isn’t over yet…!”

“Really, you ought to not stick your nose in others’ affairs. A reputable reporter knows when to not press their interviewers,” he tuts.

“I haven’t even gotten HALF of my scoop yet!! Quit holdin’ out on me, will ya?!”

You hurried after him, your protests and pleas wafting up into the crisp day.

[call-me-a-simp]

Heal My Wounds

What's the occasion? (part 24)

Rhea Ripley x Reader

Tw: physical and sexual abuse, toxic relationship, selfharm, eating disorder

Summary: You are in a toxic relationship with an abusive man but manage to run away. A tall, black haired woman picks you up from the streets just in time so your ex doesn't get you. But who is she and why does she seem so familiar to you? As you get to know each other you start to notice weird feelings you never had before whenever she's around.

It's almost seven and you're sitting on the couch in Finn's living room, waiting unpatiently for your girlfriend to finally arrive.

As you hear the sound of a car driving and stopping you know it has to be her. You jump up and run to the front door which Finn was about to open.

You push past him and run outside. Rhea just got out of the car and is completely unprepared for you jumping into her arms.

"Oh my God, y/n, baby" she laughs and gives you a quick kiss on the cheek. "What? I missed you! You just left me" you pout and burry your head in the crook of her neck.

"yeah you got a point there, sorry for that" she chuckles. She adjusts you so you're easier for her to carry around. If it were up to you, she could carry you around all day.

"You mentioned a surprise yesterday" you say and raise your head. "Yes, but first we need to get ready" Rhea smirks. "so you won't tell me what it is?" you plead and look at her with puppy eyes.

"Of course not, it wouldn't be a surprise anymore then" she giggles and kisses you. "but I can tell you this much: we're going to a fancy restaurant"

"Uii" you squeal and hug her tight. "wait but then we have to go back to our place. I don't have anything to wear here" you consider.

"Don't worry, we went shopping for you" Dom grins and holds up a big bag.

Rhea carries you inside and upstairs where Dom puts the bag down in a room and walks out, closing the door behind you two.

Rhea sets you down and goes to reveal what they bought. "I hope you like it" she blushes slightly and pulls out a beautiful, red, off shoulder dress.

You don't even know what to say so you just stare at her and the dress. "What do you think?" she grins at your overwhelm. "I- I don't even know what to say.. I- thank you soo much!"

Rhea smiles and mentions for you to get undressed. You do as she says and try on the dress. It fits perfect! "Damn, look at you"

You brightly smile in the mirror admiring yourself. "I don't know what else to say except thank you all over again" "It's okay don't worry" Rhea chuckles.

"Come on, we'll show the boys and then we need to get going" she says and takes your hand to lead you out the door. She opens it and you're greeted by Dom, Finn and Damian, each of them already dressed in their best suits.

"Will you look at this" Finn grins. "You look really damn pretty y/n" Damian smiles and winks at you. "Yup, made the right choice there" Dom states proudly.

"Okay guys, wait for me real quick, I gotta change too" Rhea says and dissappears back inside the room you just came from.

Five minutes later your all seated in a car on the way to your destination. Your girlfriend decided to wear the black dress she also wore to the hall of fame ceremony.

"Are you excited?" Dom asks and looks at you through the rearview mirror. "Gosh Dom you're so bad at hiding your emotions, especially when you're excited" Rhea complains and you laugh.

"Well, if you're all so secretive then there surely has to be a reason why I should be" you chuckle. "Oh if you knew.." Damian whispers, but you still hear him as he was, once again, sitting next to you.

After about a 20 minutes you arrive. You get out in front of a really expensive looking restaurant. It's really nicely decorated from the outside and even prettier from the inside.

"Damn guys what's the occasion?" you ask stunned. "You'll see love, you'll see" Rhea answers and puts an arm around your waist to guide you to the reserved table.

"Good evening ladies and gentlemen. Can I already take orders for your drinks?" a young man I a suit asks, a pen and a notepad in hand, ready to write.

You all order and the longer you're there the more excited you get. But Rhea wouldn't be Rhea if she wouldn't let you wait even longer..

---------------------------------------------------

Part 24, still not including the surprise but I promise it'll be in part 25, I promise!

Taglist:@babybatlover @legit9thlunaticwarrior @thatonepansexual2000 @nox-fire

[je-brille-dans-la-nuit]

Watching Star Trek TOS and loving it! Sex pollen!!

The Return of the Archons

Jim Spock shenanigans shenanigans it was ok enough.

Gotta say I'm all for criticism of organized religion

.

Space Seed

So I met Khan (not the Benedict Cumberbatch whitewashed version)! The episode was good, lots of good dialogue, a solid plot and an uncertain ending (kofkof uncertain for them).

The toxic masculinity vibes were off the charts though:

First, I'm not commenting on McGivers instantly falling for the hyper masculine guy, accepting his abusive behaviour and choosing to stay with him; because if I do, I'll get mad. But you know, it's terrible and I hate it.

Then the admiration for Khan, "the best and most dangerous of the tyrants" expressed by Scotty, Bones and Jim. Sigh. Of course it's all three of them, the only one out being Spock ("Illogical"). We're supposed to take away that it's because he doesn't feel the human/manly appeal of courage, ambition, greatness or whatever. Honestly not even IC? (sorry but I don't want to picture Jim and Bones as real life fans of Napoleon lmao they are the worst)

SPOCK: Gentlemen, this romanticism about a ruthless dictator is KIRK: Mister Spock, we humans have a streak of barbarism in us. Appalling, but there, nevertheless. SCOTT: There were no massacres under his rule. SPOCK: And as little freedom. MCCOY: No wars until he was attacked. SPOCK: Gentlemen.

You tell them Spock!

MCCOY: Well, either choke me or cut my throat. Make up your mind.

Instant classic

MCCOY: Well, there aren't any regulations against romance, Jim.

Duly noted!

Jim thinking he and the bridge crew were dying and recommending commendations in his log? Him being in the decompression chamber being murdered? I was on the verge of tears then

jsbfjhe i'm sorry i can't take it seriously this shot is so funny

SPOCK: Surprised to see you Captain, though pleased. JIM: I'm a little pleased myself

they're so dumb (lovingly)

SPOCK: It would be interesting, Captain, to return to that world in a hundred years and to learn what crop has sprung from the seed you planted today. KIRK: Yes, Mister Spock, it would indeed.

.

A Taste of Armageddon

Wow the plot's heavy but powerful. The whole episode is dark but hopeful ending! (plus pissed off Jim is v sexy)

Death, destruction, disease, horror. That's what war is all about, Anan. That's what makes it a thing to be avoided. You've made it neat and painless. So neat and painless, you've had no reason to stop it. And you've had it for five hundred years. 

I've given you back the horrors of war. 

Ending a 500-year war is just one of many things Captain Kirk does!

And of course:

SPOCK: Captain, you almost make me believe in luck. KIRK: Why, Mister Spock, you almost make me believe in miracles.

I love them ._.

.

This Side of Paradise

OMG OMG IT'S HAPPENING THIS IS NOT A DRILL!! SEX POLLEN!!!

The perfect mix of fun and tension in this episode! Loved it!

Jim's confusion at Spock is everything. When he says "Spock" - clears his throat - "Mr Spock"

Jim being his dramaqueen self "In effect, I am marooned here."

Jim's immunity is his sense of duty what a goody two-shoes (affectionate)

The idea that anger/strong emotion is necessary ties up nicely to The Enemy within

Then the scene... You know which one... Did I have to pause because Jim was being so mean to Spock it was a bit much to watch? maybe!!

SPOCK: You did that to me deliberately. KIRK: Believe me, Mister Spock, it was painful in more ways than one.

My heart!

SPOCK: Captain. Striking a fellow officer is a court martial offence. KIRK: Well, if we're both in the Brig, who's going to build the subsonic transmitter? SPOCK: That is quite logical, Captain.

Sooo dumb <3

The scene between Layla and Spock was lovely too!

MCCOY: Well, that's the second time man's been thrown out of paradise. KIRK: No, no, Bones. This time we walked out on our own. Maybe we weren't meant for paradise. Maybe we were meant to fight our way through. Struggle, claw our way up, scratch for every inch of the way. 

This after the reference to Milton two eps ago! Yes! Yes to all of this!!!

[thatcheeseycandle]

//SPOILERS FOR CHAPTER 29 OF IN PURSUIT OF SELF SINCE YKNOW REACTION POST

Preparing myself as I read this BEHHAHDHD

I LOVE HOW THE TITLE CARD IS THE SAME ONE FROM THE CROWNED ENGINE YAYDYSHDVC

Ohg osg OH NGOBOONNOO CLUNC ASLTLE GET OTU GET OTU MOVE

.

MS PARSONS YOU LITTLE. YOU MY GOSH YOU JUST ABANDONED CLUNC ASTLE. NY GOAHAHDDHHA

Oi OI OI OOOJOJIII BLUE OETER WOOOOOOO BLUE PETER LETS GOOOOOOO

Ngl I almost felt bad for Clun Castle on this bit HEHAHAHHAHDDHWH LIKE I KINDA RELATED TO THAT BIT WHERE YKNOW YEAH NOT BEING IMPORTANT YADAYDADYAYD THAT YEAH

OI GREEN ARROW GRENE AOREOQODID YEHAHAHAHAHDHDHHHHHH LETS GOGOO

HEHAHSHWGEGAHAHAHHDHD VERY DRAMATIC ENTRANCE AND POOR GORDON HELWPDHDHDHSHHA

YEAHAHAH EVENING STAR THEY GOT YOUR BACJ WE AINT LETTING TYDFIL DIE ON US NOW IM TELLING YOU LOT WE ARENT

Oh goah OH NO STH IS HERE *INSERT HIS THEMEAONG CAUSE IT PLAYED IN MY HEAD AS I READ HIS NAME*

Oh no.. OH GOSH CLUN CASTLE RUN. YOU GOTTA RUN FOR THE LOVE OF THE GODS AND ABOVE YOU HAVE TO RUN NOW ITS FIGHT OR FLIGHT YOU MIGHT AS WELL TAKE FLIGHT SINCE THERES NO GOING BACK NO ONE AINT GONNA BE THERE DIOS

FATHER FIGURE STH HERE HES HERE EVERYONE WOOOOO YEAHAHHAHS FATHERLY TRUST LRTS GOGOGOGOODJSHF

Oh gosh OJ NO HERE WE GO WE GONNA SEE THE GDC (Gold dust constructs) BUZZ AND BRAWL WE GONNA SEE THEM GO ALL OUT

Dr Hendrick GREAT NORTHERN LOOKS CLEARLY DEAD WOULD YOU ATLEAST GIVE HIM SOME OF YOUR ATTENTION LIKE DIOS- BEHAHSHEHSHS

Ooguugughrgb Mallard poor lad:( LISTEM LISTEN THEY GOTTA FIND OUT IT WAS MS PARSONS CAUSE DIOS IM LITERALLY JUST CHEERING THEM ON TO FIND HER AND JUST GO ALL OUT

IMAGINE LIKE ROOSTER AND QUICKSILVER AND YKNOW SILVERFOX FINDING OUT LIKE COME ON OF COURSE THEY'D TEAM UP TO VERBALLY BATTLE IT OUT WITH MS PARSONS (Though I think Rooster might go physically battle it out WHO KNOWS BAHEHAHHDHSBD)

"I tried to save him. It failed. I decided to return him to his family" I WILL CRY. HERE GOES THE EMOTIONAL ROLLERCOASTER ERVYONE THIS IS THE START STRAP ON THOSE SEATBELTS TIGHTLY

aaweeweeaaaAQEHAHDHEHEEUEUDYD GADWALL PECKING HER HAND ITS JUST OSUUDHHGGH

them THEM>>>>

YEAH NO CRAP SHERLOCK OF COURSE ITS GADWALL?? (Seriously though NEVER THOUGHT THAT HERBERT WOULDVE BEEN GADWALL THIS ENTIRE TIME LIKE BEFORE READING THIS NEW CHAPTER AS I READ THOSE CHAPTERS WITH HIM AND MALLARD IT MADE MORE SENSE THAT GADWALL WOULDVE BEEN IT)

Oh gosh OGHDOGOGOSOASAAAAAAAA

I CALLED UT IC ALLSELD ITTTTTTTTTT WELL LADIES AND GENTLEMEN AND ALL GENDERS HERES PART ONE OF THE GOLD DUST CONSTRUCT REUNION LETS GO GOGOGOGOGOGOO

DARLING PEONY DIOS- Oh god SCOT SCOT LOGOFKY AWYAY LOOK AWAY. LOOK. A. WAY. LOOK AWYA DIOS

SOMEONE SGIELD THEIR EYES THEY CANT SEE NORTH DEAD AAAAAAAAAAAAA

NONONONONONONONONOO PEONY DEAR PLEASE NONONONOONO

Rooster ROOSTER ROPAAOEDT NAOAOODIFODOOO

SCOTSMAN GET YOUR HAND SOFF HIM DIOS HE DIDNT KILL MY GOSH IM NO NOONONONONOONONONONONONONOOO

Red loqiuid.. RED NNONONONONONOOOOBOOBONONONOOOOOCONONONONOMOO SCOT YOU LIYYLE NO NONONOOBOBABS DIOS JUSKO NO THIS CNANTNO NOBOONONOOOO THIS CANT.

MALLARD BANDAGE UP YOUR HEAD YOUR LITERALLY BLEEDING. PEONY GOD SOMEONE SUPPORT PEONY RN.

Oh dios well HERE COMEA COPPERNOB- GO STEPHEN YEAH GO GOOGOGOGOGO

Wait wait HWAT STEPEHENS EH HAS A WHAT NOW. WHATATTA

JAW DROPPEDBAT THIS

GET HER OSCAR GET HER SLAM HER DOWN DO IT GOGOGOGOGOGOO DO IT KNPCK HER OUT KO HER RN

. Ms parsons YOU LITTLE AAAAZS YUP IM GONNA TUROW THIS PHONE SOON /NSRS

Wait what WHAT IS OLIVIA A GDC???? WHAT WAIT WAIT HOW. SHE LITERALLY. WAIT. SHES. WAIT. OH NVM WAIT I THINK THATS JUST MS PARSONS BEING LOKO YEAH DW DW YEAH.

YEAH YEAH GO ALL OUT OSCAR GOG GOOGOGOGO LIGHT HER UP GO YEAH YEHAHAHAHH

. oscar yknow sharing is caring SO SHOW THAT VERY UH THAT VERY CRAZY WOMAN ON HOE MAD YOU ARE DONT HOLD BACK

Ay AYAYAYAYYY AY AY MR CORBYN LETS GOGOGOGOGOOGOOO YEHAHAHAHAHH

Wait. Golden warden.. OKAY YEAH I BETTER NOTE TGAT DOWN YEAH MR CORBYN IS APPARENTKY A GOLDEN WARDEN YEAH NOTED

Oh dear lord OKAY YEAH PREPARING MYSEL

Ojay uh. DO SOME 4TH ING DR HENDRICK??? DO SOMRTHING RN LIKE ANYTHING DIOS YOU GOT GOLD DUST VILES RIGHT???? USE EHM

.

NO NO I AM NOT NO IM NOT GONNA MAKE THIS EVEN SADDER BY REMEMBERING NORTH WAS LIKE OLIVIAS FATHER NONONONONOO

No. OKAY THIA. UNO. I WAS KINDA RIGHT ON MY THEORY OF POLLY'S GOLD DUST KINDA KINDA FADING. DOS. AAAAAAAAAAAAAAA. MY GOA NO NO NO THIS NO. I KNOW PEONY I KNOW ITS BAD BAD.

Oh? OH??? OH THEYRE GETTING MARRIED?? THEYRE GTETTING REAL REAL MARRIED OH MY GOSH????

Ay AY AY AY AY WAIT WHAT DIOS OH GOD WHAT. HE. HES WHAT. THE TRACKS THEY. HES IN THE. MY GOSGSB

Tydfil you and me YOU AND ME TYDFIL. YOU AND ME.

Ouguguh Tydfil my gosh :(( YOU CAN TRUST THOMAS BELIEVE ME DEAR

WOOOO THIS WAS. A VERY VERY EMPTIONAL ROLLERCOASTER. NGL I GOT SURPRISED AT KING EDWARD FALLING INTO THAT BIT SO YEAH IM YEAH

Well WELL BRAVO TO REDWYVERNWRITES YET AGAIN FOR THIS FANTASTIC CHAPTER /POS

When the title said "Conflict and Revelations" IT REALLY DID MENA IT HHEHAHAHAHAHA

In all seriousness I nearly lost my words in the middle of reading it CAUSE MY BRAIN STRAIGHT UP STARTED TO LAG DUE TO THE AMOUNT OF EMOTIONS IN THIA AND HOLY WAS IT WORTH MY TIME IT REALLY WAS AMAIZNG /POS

[arnold-layne]

how do you write emotional scenes? Do you ever feel what the characters feel? Do you draw from personal experiences?

How many fic ideas are you nurturing right now? Share one of them?

Share a snippet from a WIP 👀

For the fic writer ask game :))))

how do you write emotional scenes? Do you ever feel what the characters feel? Do you draw from personal experiences?

i have vast experience in mental anguish and also have very good imagination so it's not hard for me to come up with what characters are feeling in a certain situation. and in my fic characters experience mostly negative emotions

How many fic ideas are you nurturing right now? Share one of them?

tbh i just wanna finish at least one of my wips so im not letting myself think of other fic ideas 😭 but i do rotate in my mind a couple ideas for original fiction, not yet bold enough to start something huge that's not a fanfic because it requires much more dedication due to lack of feedback in the process

Share a snippet from a WIP 👀

okay, pirate au for a change!

“Damn! Locked!” a rough voice said from behind the door. Vince’s heart sank into his boots – or rather, not being in possession of them, feet. He rose from the floor and pushed the blanket into the corner. “There must be something valuable in here then, ya think?”

“We gotta check it out then,” another answered, sounding like its owner was born with a cigarette. There was something off-putting about them. It’s not what Vince imagined the voices of his saviors would sound like. “But quick – we gotta be the first to find that pipsqueak.”

‘Pipsqueak’? Were they referring to him? But his father’s men would never call him that.

Then a heavy blow shook the door, and one more. On the third blow it surrendered and slammed open, hitting the wall.

Two men stood in the doorframe, and Vince could tell at first glance they were not his father’s men. Or men of someone honorable. Compared to them Nikki’s gang could very well pass for gentlemen. One was bald, with an eye patch and tattooed arms – but not Nikki’s type, with well-defined lines and bright color; this guy’s tattoos were blurry and blueish. The other had matted hair, a red, sweaty face and three fingers on his left hand.

“O-oh, look what we’ve got here.” A smile widened on the bald guy’s face. “Blonde, girlish, scar on the cheek… exactly like Hetfield said. I think we struck gold, pal.”

Once again this Hetfield. Who the hell was this guy?

“Huh,” the other stretched his lips in a sleazy grin, “I kinda get Sixx now. Ya think Papa Het would let us-“

God, not this look again. Vince had enough of them already, and they never meant anything good.

“Who the hell are you?” he said, trying to sound confident. Nevermind that he was chained to the post and these guys each had a gun and a saber.

“Your saviors, baby,” Three Fingers said in such an oily tone Vince didn’t doubt anymore – these guys weren’t Vince’s saviors.

[muddyorbsblr]

The amount of times I have to stand up, walk a little or run a little…and also severely contemplate the window…is making me question so much about myself right now. 🥴🫡

Roaring firelight was haloed behind the ebony mane that cascaded around the shoulders of a midnight-blue suit sitting snug to his body.

The mental image this conjured already had me swooning and the story was just starting 🥵 What did you put in this??

Each man's characterization also felt so on point. The way that she believed that Barnes was a serial bed-hopper but also had enough respect to not sleep around with the team so that the intra-member relationships wouldn't be compromised? The way that their flirtation began to stem from massages and establishing with him that she had this level of trust with him should he ever want to spend the night with her? Absolute genius 👏👏

And with Steve, the way she thought he would be considering the whole officer-subordinate dynamic which would discourage him from doing anything and then having him completely simp ever since he saw her dripping wet? It built his character so well that this was a slow surrender for him because he didn't want to mess with the dynamic between them but eventually he had to give in because the desire ran too strong, especially with all her teasing.

And while we're on that, their weaknesses being the neck and the leg was so perfectly thought out, because considering that they came from much more conservative times, of course those two parts in particular would be the parts they felt all flustered seeing from a woman and old habits and weaknesses have a way of sticking around

Now with Loki…her being convinced that he didn't even know her name felt like such the perfect impression of him from her perspective because he's mastered the art of pretending to be the picture of composure when really all he wants to do is magic her clothes off and have his way with her without giving a fuck that there's company present. 🥵 And nobody can convince me that him reminding the other two of the time was genuinely calm we all know he was fired up inside waiting his turn to do his damnedest to sway her decision towards him.

The whole gentlemen's agreement thing between the three of them felt so incredibly mature and did a great job of strengthening the dynamic between each of them that they all respected each other and more than that, they respected her. They would have thirty seconds for her to feel the spark with each of them and ultimately all the power's hers. 👏💖

And the kisses with Bucky and with Steve got me feeling all sorts of ways like they really tried and I gotta commend them it was a real good effort. Whoever those two decide to spend the night with after she voices her decision? They're not gonna be complaining I can guarantee.

But the second Loki said "you'll wish to be sitting down for this" it was already written in stone that it's game over for the super soldiers. 🥵🥵 His loophole was a thing of pure chaotic erotic menacing GENIUS and had me staring at the wall for a good few minutes just processing all my thoughts, thots, and emotions 😮‍💨

I love love LOVE this. I know that you're not used to writing Steve as a sexy character, but let me tell you now that you knocked it right out of the park with this. This story had me looking back on the days that I was actually crushing on Steve going "ahh good times, gooooood times". And don't get me started on how this suddenly got me considering having Bucky as a second simp subject because of how well you wrote him 🥴 Like it's a distant second, but the fact that there's even a second now got me doing the blinking man meme IRL

A Gentlemen's Agreement [Reader x Loki/Steve/Bucky]

A link to my Masterlist is HERE Summary: It's time for you to make up your mind. And the boys have just the plan to help you do that. (w/c 3.2k) Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI. Smutty. Teasing. Sexual tension. Not a foursome. A/N: Loki is my king. I just needed to get this out thanks to @sidepartskinnyjeans

The click of Steve’s dress shoes echoed as he ushered you away from the busy ballroom of Stark’s county house. Your nerves were fizzing, but your face didn’t betray the flutter of excitement growing in your belly. In the darkness of the mahogany lined corridor, firelight licked from a solitary open doorway. A nod from the captain urged you silently inside. Walking into the room, your breath hitched. Whatever you had expected from his clandestine invitation in the crowd, this wasn’t it.

Steve circled around you, taking his place in the menacingly sensual line-up. There they stood in quiet stoicism, dressed in fitted finery – the trio of beneficiaries to your relentless flirtations. Their arms were folded, their legs wide in triangular determination. For the briefest of moments, you wondered how all of them had managed to excuse themselves from the party at once. But seeing the way they were taking up space, stretching the air with their achingly large egos, that question was quickly forgotten. Each was more breathtakingly handsome than the last. Rogers. Barnes. Laufeyson. “What is this?” you giggled nervously, snapping to each set of blue eyes in turn. They began to smirk in unison. You shivered despite the heat from the fire. “S’come to our attention you’ve been pulling the same tricks on all of us,” the winter soldier drawled, his accent thick with playful taunt. You swallowed, mouth suddenly dry. “I don’t know what you-” “Oh, I think you do, Agent,” Laufeyson hummed, tilting his head. Long fingers drummed on his bicep as he rocked on his heels. Roaring firelight was haloed behind the ebony mane that cascaded around the shoulders of a midnight-blue suit sitting snug to his body. You pressed your lips together, stifling a whimper. “Look fellas, she’s blushing," Steve teased. The three of them chuckled. “I don’t blush,” you snipped, folding your arms to match them. “And I’d appreciate if you could tell me why the three of you are lined up like...like…” The words you searched for ebbed as you readjusted your feet. It was all you could do not to go over on your ankle in these stupid heels. Heat was building between your thighs, the unmistakeable thump of arousal beating as your addled thoughts raced beneath their penetrating stares.

You knew exactly what Bucky meant. And now it seemed, so did they. You knew bending over to pick up that pen in front of all three of them yesterday was a bad idea. Although, no one in the world would blame you – working with three of the finest specimens of masculinity ever created. Had you gone out your way to tease and flirt with each one of them over the past several months? Possibly. But hey, it was good for morale. And besides, there wasn’t a hope in hell any of them would return your affections. Not serial-bed hopper Barnes, he didn’t fuck where he ate. Not tightly wound Rogers, you seriously doubted he’d approve of subordinate relations. And as for the ice king – you weren’t even sure he knew your name.

The only sound in the room was the crackling of the fire. God, you wished it wasn’t so hot. Your eyes searched the floor, hearing Loki clear his throat. “As Barnes noted, you have been toying with each of us in a manner both indecent and egregious these past months.” He let the rhetorical judgement marinate in silence before continuing. “Do you deny it?” You raised your eyes to his, seeing the embers of mischief smouldering within. “No,” you said confidently, as all three men cast conspiratorial glances to one another. Rogers balanced his elbow on a tight fist, raising his fingers to his chin. He narrowed his eyes. “That dress though fellas," he growled with uncharacteristic lust. "Have you ever seen such a thing?” Barnes snorted. “Forget two birds with one stone, that outfit takes out three cocks with one hit.” His blue eyes were dark in the low light, heavy brows shadowing the contours as his chin dipped. “An assassin, even off the clock.” he grit. “And she knows how much I love that neck.” While he was speaking, you instinctively brushed a strand hanging from your up-do away from the boatline collar of the dress. He was right. You did know. You had known ever since the first of his ragged breaths, tangible desire pulsing in his veins and stretching his trousers as he massaged your shoulders. The first time you had asked, he had thought you were joking. But every time you felt the cool flatness of his metal limb against your spine, steadying you as his fingers found every pocket of tension in your upper body – both you and he knew it was no laughing matter. Had you exaggerated the moans of pleasure his touch released? No. There had been no need. It felt fucking phenomenal. Orgasmic, even. And you hadn’t held them back. Your neck had extended to the side as his fingertips pulsed into the most delicate areas, breathy pants filling the air that you hoped made him think of how you would sound as he fucked you into the headboard. “And she knows how much I love those legs,” Steve smouldered, curling a finger against his lips as his gaze ran from your hips to the floor and back again. The dress stopped midway up your thighs, perfectly tight before the sheer drop of your limbs to the heels. You had caught him staring open-mouthed as you pulled yourself dripping wet from the ocean on a mission in the Seychelles months ago. His face had flushed as you’d clocked him running up your femurs, a bite of his lip betraying the base need boiling beneath an all-business exterior.

On every mission, you now made a point of elevating your leg as you snapped on the holsters, lunging forward against the nearest bench. Wall. Anything to drive him mad. You wondered how often he thought of your legs wrapped around his hips while his tactical suit lay strewn around his ankles. Without fail, his teeth always found their way to his bottom lip; a clench of his ass and a forbidden husk of ‘goddam’ under his breath making you smirk as you turned away. “And I think not that I need to point out what aspect of the offending garment is for me,” Loki purred, releasing the cross of his arms to fall behind his back in a ceremonial clasp. “It’s green," Bucky stated, licking his lips. “Yes," Loki replied in baritone, cheekbones sharpening. “It is.”

Loki. Now that was a story. Yes, you had felt the linger of his keen eyes on your ass. But who hadn’t. And yes, his gravelled pleasantries that always dripped a little closer than necessary into your ear were tempting. But the god was a walking temptation. It was his nature. He was indiscernible, a mystery. Aside from briefings, the longest you had ever spent in his company had been when he would extend his hand wordlessly on nights just like this, leading you the dance-floor. All onlookers would see was the standard wrapping of his arms around your waist, and yours over his shoulders. They did not see the small circles grazed on the nape of his neck beneath his curls, the half-innocent moans released by his ear when he brought you in from a spin. They did not see the lingering play of your fingers on the delicate skin of his wrists, the bite of your lip as Loki’s hips pressed into your stomach. A solitary flame in a sea of cold indifference. You’d take any heat from him could you get. They didn’t see his brows twitch as he registered the green lingerie down the carefully calculated neckline of your dress. Just for him. Your breathing had becoming shallow. Were you actually about to have all three of them at once? Was that even physically possible? Two super-soldiers and a god? You didn’t know if you would survive – but something told you it might be worth it. Positions and logistics raced through your mind, making you dizzy. You shook your head.

“OK you got me, I fancy all of you. So what? It’s just a bit of fun,” you gasped, running sweaty palms casually down the front of your dress. “The fellas and I have an idea, if you’re agreeable of course,” Steve said slowly, following Loki in clasping his hands behind his back. You squinted, congratulating yourself for encouraging the captain’s foray into unbuttoning the top of his shirts. His pulse was racing, you could see it pumping beneath his jawline. Bucky still stood with his arms loosely crossed over a waistcoat, the cotton of his thick white shirt bulging against metal and flesh. A sliver of steel glinted in the firelight, sleeves folded up to the elbows. He nodded once, without a flicker of a smile. Fuck, they all looked so good. “A gentlemen’s agreement, if you will,” Loki uttered, a smile curling on his lips. He’d been waiting to deliver that line, you could tell. “You like us. We like you. But we don’t share," Bucky glowered matter-of-factly. You could feel the thin fabric of your panties sticking to your lips, tacky and unbearably wet from this erotic ambush. “You don’t?” you quipped. “What a shame.” “We don’t," Steve repeated. “At least not ye-” he cast a glance to Bucky, before clearing his throat. “We think it’s important you uh...focus your attentions. If that’s what you wanna do.” A sudden thrill raced through your blood. The idea that they had planned this, that they had spoken about you in hushed whispers behind closed doors made your pussy hum with forbidden pleasures.

You wandered to the antique sofa to the side, feeling the heated stares of each of the men follow you. “What’s this gentleman’s agreement, then?” you purred, crossing your legs. Steve swallowed as the tight emerald fabric rode up your thigh. The god of mischief laughed softly, a deep sound which seemed to shake the room like bass.

“Each of us will kiss you, and then you must decide,” he said matter-of-factly. “The unsuccessful will respect your choice of victor and no retaliation will be made.” “Decide?” “Which of us to get to know better," Steve explained, shrugging off his suit jacket. He threw it gently over his shoulder, making it land on the back of a chair behind him with magnetic finesse. Bucky rolled his eyes. “I think what the captain’s tryna say is that we all wanna get to know you, better. So it’s lady’s choice,” he winked. You raised an eyebrow towards Loki. You couldn’t imagine him ever agreeing to something like this. A solitary nod was his only response, eyelashes fluttering down in a moment of panty-wetting reverence. “I accept,” you said slowly, running your eyes across the line-up. Their competitive sincerity was catching. You wet your lips in anticipation, still in disbelief that this was actually happening. Perhaps your corpse was lying strewn on the dance-floor, paramedics hoisting you onto a trolley in a body-bag. Perhaps this was heaven. And maybe it was the low lighting, or maybe it was the dancing shadows licking their wide bodies stacked with endless muscle. But you could swear that each and every one of them was hard. “As discussed. Thirty seconds,” Loki murmured coolly to the men standing to attention on his right, flourishing a hand. Barnes stepped forward, smoothing long strands of chestnut hair behind his ears.

“Alright,” he growled confidently, swaggering the several steps and planting onto the sofa beside you. His thighs spread against the antique furniture, flexing beneath the tight suit trousers as he twisted his torso to face you. The scent of his cologne filled your nostrils, smoked wood and lingering sage like a wet autumn forest. His hand cupped your jawline, the steel arm resting on the back of the curved rest.

“Here goes nothin,” he whispered to himself, curled digits trailing longingly down the curve of your neck. They tugged at the neckline of your dress, slipping it over the curve. He leant forward, parted lips colliding with the crescent of your shoulder. Your eyelids fluttered closed, a staggered moan you didn’t realise was hiding released as he worked across your skin. His stubble tingled against the delicate surface, the flat of his nose slotting beneath your ear as his kisses became hungrier against your pulse point. Less delicate. “You’ve no idea how long I’ve wanted to do this, darlin',” he rasped, before licking licentiously from the base of your throat to the angle of your jaw. In seconds, his mouth was pressed to yours; tongue eagerly flicking against your lips before you let him enter. Bucky’s moan was dynamite, fingers guiding your chin as he devoured you in targeted desire. He leant you backwards into the cushions while your arm instinctually slid between his shoulder-blades, pulling him closer. Barnes groaned as his hand slid covetously from your waist and up the curve of your breasts, before burrowing deep into your bun. He thrust gruffly against you on instinct, something thick and menacingly primal dragging against your thigh. The feeling of his fingers tugging at your scalp sent your heat into overdrive, clenching desperately around air. “Time,” Loki purred calmly. Stubble scratched a final time, your hand flying to rest on his metal arm as you breathlessly broke apart with a whimper. Barnes winked, the skin surrounding his mouth pink as he rose and re-joined the other two. You cast glances between them while your chest heaved.

“Do you need a moment?” Steve inquired politely, folding the sleeves of his shirt up further. You watched the veins in his muscled forearms tighten with the movement, the slight bend of his knees as he gave a deferential cough. As if he’s preparing for a fight, you thought as your head continued to spin from Bucky’s kiss. “No, I’m good,” you slurred, smiling as you straightened and patting the sofa beside you. “I prefer it standing, if that’s alright,” Steve said tentatively, brow twitching in mild alarm as he saw your eyes widen. But he didn’t retract it. Standing obediently, it suddenly occurred to you that a kiss on the hand would be very on brand for him, perhaps rethinking his part in this atypical charade. But Steve paced towards you, looking as determined as he did striding down the ramp of the quinjet. Your breath hitched as the captain’s hands cupped your face, walking you expertly back towards the walled bookcase. A shelf pressed against your spine while Rogers bore down, his gentle tongue nudging at your lips; and with a whimper, he breached. The warmth of the muscle caressing your own made your knees wobble. Hard, rippling abdominals pressed flush against your chest, pinning you softly beneath Keats and Wordsworth while his hands began to smooth over your shoulders, over your waist. You felt like the poets would approve. Steve moaned into your mouth as his palms slid possessively down your thighs, grunting as he whipped them forwards effortlessly around his waist. You yelped in surprise before his lips swallowed yours again, ankles crossing around taut hips. The heat from his skin warmed the scent of ginger wafting from the base of his collarbone, its spice firing in your nostrils. The kiss was hungry and desperate and wild. You could feel his solid cock rubbing against your stomach, tasting every inch of your passion as his fingertips dug into the soft flesh beneath your ass. He thrust softly with every wax and wane of his jaw, needy fingers running through his newly mussed golden hair. You pulled greedily before there was a soft clear of someone’s throat. It sounded like Loki. “Time,” Bucky barked, and reluctantly, Steve returned you to the ground. Still in a daze, and with palms spread against the bookcase, your eyes fell on the final figure. “Believe me…” Loki purred condescendingly, “you’ll wish to sit down for this.”

With shaking steps you teetered to the sofa, plonking down with a sharp intake of breath. Loki glided towards you, elegantly manoeuvring his long limbs aside your own. He brought a finger beneath your chin, tilting your head back. “You are so beautiful.” he murmured, before pressing in to a firm, chaste kiss. One of your hands flew to his thigh, running your palm over the hard, forbidden mass concealed tight and thick beneath the cotton. You desperately keened into him, tongue searching against closed lips. Loki withdrew with a chuckle, sweeping the hair from one side of his head. “If you wish me to stop, tell me,” he whispered hot in your ear, a wave of amber and spices and decadence filling your senses before he slipped from the sofa to his knees. Your eyes widened as he gently spread your legs. “The rules did not specify where I could kiss you.” he explained softly, pre-empting the questioning thrill lighting your eyes. Disgruntled huffs from Bucky and Rogers barely registered as you felt a cool tingle of the god’s magic dissolve your favourite underwear.

Loki’s smouldering gaze latched to yours, lust-drunk and determined, before it fell to the glistening mess at his eye level. “Do you consent to my audition?” he hummed, tentatively pushing the sides of your dress to the tops of your thighs. Your stare flickered to Steve and Bucky, suspiciously observing Loki on his knees with pure jealousy. "Yes," you heard yourself murmur under your breath. Fresh arousal was seeping from your centre, spreading down your heated skin. You had never wanted anything more. "Louder, please," Loki smirked, the curve of his fingers fastened to your knees. “Yes, Loki...g-god-” you gasped, brow furrowing as you urged him on with a tilt.

Immediately, his tongue licked a wide, earth-shattering stripe up your slit from base to tip. Your head fell back with a rattling moan, one hand combing through his hair as the other gripped the armrest. Loki quickly moved your legs over his shoulders, sliding you further back. The god’s open mouth latched to your swollen clit, sucking and lapping lower with sinful precision. All you could see was his dark curls and proud brow, the sight of the god buried between your open thighs making reality blur. Every caress made your hips thrust further into his mouth, shaking breaths shuddering your body as he moaned against your wet heat. The noises he made were utter devastation, muffled pants and enthusiastic slurps sounding between your splayed legs as he ate you out like a starving man. Behind your eyelids, you could feel the covetous gazes of the two soldiers rolling over your body as Laufeyson’s fingertips dug into your calves like a hunter. “T-time,” Steve choked. “No!” you gasped, pawing at Loki’s cheek in despair. The god smiled, chin glistening while closing your trembling knees in a move that could only be described as gentlemanly. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, unfurling and retreating backwards to the line-up with his arms spread in a show of feigned innocence. You panted, gathering your thoughts as your gaze landed on each of them in turn. “Lady’s choice,” Bucky re-iterated gruffly, widening his legs. Beside him, the captain’s fingers rested wide on his hips, biting his lip while his eyes lingered on the fresh sheen of sweat clinging to your legs. Loki raised a finger absent-mindedly to the corner of his mouth, brushing the edge before sucking it clean to the second knuckle. His eyes smouldered, fixed on you, the flicker of firelight casting deep shadows in hollowed cheekbones. You took a deep breath, the only name it was ever going to be dancing on the tip of your tongue.

🤷‍♂️

Tags @meowmeow-motherfucker @muddyorbsblr @imalovernotahater @avengersalways @littledark11 @lokikissesmyforehead @simplyholl @fictive-sl0th @thedistractedagglomeration @loveroflokiforpoeticjustice @coldnique @holdmytesseract @jaidenhawke @silverfire475 @vbecker10 @imalovernotahater @thomase1 @morriggannlostinfandoms @marygoddessofmischief @sebstanwhore @xorpsbane @peacefulpianist @maple-seed @yelkmelk @wheredafandomat @mistress-ofmagic @acidcasualties @ozymdias @peaches1958 @your-taste-on-my-lips @lokidokieokie @kikster606 @peachyjinx @tbhiddlestan83 @trickster-maiden @skymoonandstardust @justjoanne242 @sidepartskinnyjeans @ladyofthestayingpower @wolfmoonmusic @brittbax @smolvenger @lunarnights95 @superficialdomina @kaleenjackson @fictional-hooman @psychospore @littlespaceyelf

[nicoscheer]

01 Oct '23

Kia Forum

Los Angeles, CA, USA

Via

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The fucking close up of his hand Jesus Christ in a bicycle (also the one exactly when he’s playing with his hair or the last one or; you get the gist)

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I’m gonna cry 😭😭🫶🏽❤️ they are brothers/family

Are we enjoying ourselves, you’ve been very good so far

https://www.instagram.com/reel/Cx4sMyjLgni/?igshid=MzRlODBiNWFlZA==

Suck it and see

https://www.instagram.com/reel/Cx6LQwTSKK1/?igshid=MzRlODBiNWFlZA==

The ultracheese 😭😭 “it’s not finished” 🤣 darling we know we just gotta give room for the emotions or we might spontaneously combust

Al pulling on imaginary chords during why’d you only call me when you’re high

Not him wrapping the mic chord around his face to make Tom laugh (the way he actively checks to make sure he’s watching him; drying pretty visitors)

https://www.instagram.com/reel/Cx3MHfCR1ru/?igshid=MzRlODBiNWFlZA==

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A post shared by Alondra Perez 🌹 (@crispy_alondra_)

https://www.instagram.com/reel/Cx6TnAwyFyX/?igshid=MzRlODBiNWFlZA==

Big ideas

https://www.instagram.com/reel/Cx5FterLatl/?igshid=MzRlODBiNWFlZA==

Ultracheese

https://www.instagram.com/reel/Cx4n9bmOqhz/?igshid=MzRlODBiNWFlZA==

SIAS

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Love how he’s talking bout people’s backs that makes him saying that he can tell if Alex is having a good or bad show just by looking at his back even better

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Al knows what you did and he’s disappointed in you (his Bambi/puppy eyes; the fluffy hair but Al’s the immense dark circles, I’m gonna be so sad when the tours over but they deserve to sleep for a month straight)

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Fragile

The caption is heart wrenchingly sweet but also sad (like one of his brothers basically just told the internet watch out he’s fragile be careful)

He’s not very well, he’ll be alright by the time we play. He didn’t go mad or anything, he just feels a bit…. I don’t know… fragile

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A post shared by Annika Saleha Ahmed (@ahmeda01)

"It's not everyday you get invited to play for the @arcticmonkeys for their end of tour wrap party. So grateful to these sweet amazing dudes for having us and treating us so nice.

Especially bassist Nick O'Malley who suggested we play their event! So grateful True gentlemen all around."

Via

Sculptures of anything goes

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[ashluca]

Pt1

Let's just say after finishing st4, I have plenty of mixed emotions... and opinions.

Spoilers ahead, for any one who hasn't seen season 4

First of all, Erica, fucking applaud her for kicking the jock in the groin and her being such a girl boss

Me to the Duffer brothers after finishing this episode:

FINALLY:

It was cute, in all honesty, gotta have some good before the bullshit:

*taps mic* ladies and gentlemen, I nominate Jonathan Byers for brother of the year

True guitar genius, like bloody hell:

Awe, look it's a father and his son

STEVE. MY GUY. This was sweet and all but the man would be taking a few steps backward in growth, if stancy ended up dating again. Let's all NOT forget, despite the growth both of them had. The relationship ended based off the fact that Nancy couldn't tell Steve she loved him. Whereas she was at least able to tell her friend, Fred, back in volume 1 of season 4 that she loved Jonathan as she talked about how great he was. And without her ending things between them like she did, it probably wouldn't have given him a big nudge to grow up and change for himself. Their breakup in my was beneficial, them getting back together doesn't make sense. I get old feelings and all but Steve and Nancy don't see eye to eye in what they want in the future. Cause Nancy wants to be journalist, doesn't want a white picket fence life, and definitely doesn't want 6 kids. Steve on the other hand wants 6 kids and the family life. Long story short, you can't stick two people back together when neither of them have much to come back to except old feelings and memories of when it was good:

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

My friend is a big fan of you as well and asked me to request this:

A Janus fic based on the song Monster by Dev https://youtu.be/5iA_oFDNt9E

I think the song could fit him quite well, maybe with the others being like “out of all of us, h i m???”

-🦑

Songfic?? With Janus angst?? My time has come *ascends*

CW: Unsympathetic Light Sides (they're not assholes but they're basically unsupportive, concerned for Reader, and hateful/distrustful of Janus)

...........

Call the doctor, call the doctor Must be something wrong with me He's a monster, why do I want ya Please tell me, please tell me

"What?!! [Y/n] this..this cannot possibly be true!"

"Roman-"

"You could've had any one of the fine gentlemen here...but more importantly me.."

"Roman, just calm-"

"And yet you chose him?! That wretched slimy snake?!" The princely Side pointed rudely at Janus, who was just sitting on the couch beside you. He frowned as he fiddled with the chain of his capelet, finding more interest in that than the uncomfortable conversation currently taking place.

This wasn't even the direction you nor him expected it to take. It was already going south..straight towards hell.

All because Remus couldn't keep his mouth shut and blurted out the revelation that you and Janus were dating.

Ironically, he was the one who confessed to you first--something that you're certain no Side would ever believe.

"There's got to be something wrong with your head." Roman shook his head in dismay, before approaching you. "Come now. We'll find you a true Prince Charming! One that's not a vile fibber like-"

Suddenly you sprang up, moving away from him. "You don't get to choose who I fall in love with. Remus.." You glared at the dark half of creativity. "I'm gonna kick your ass if you don't leave right now."

"Do ya promise~?" He giggled, refusing to acknowledge the seriousness of the situation. "You know I'm into that."

"Let it go, [y/n]." Janus tried to assure you. "They're both bumbling fools."

"A fool?!" Roman gasped. "The only fool here is YOU!! Trying to tempt them with your false promises of love and affection! What do you know about romance?!"

"Apparently more than you." You interrupted, standing by your lover in a defensive manner. "I know this isn't exactly how I planned to tell you but god just calm down for a minute."

You definitely didn't anticipate this kind of freakout from him. You thought he'd be asking about the how's and when's of falling in love, as one would expect from the "romantic expert" of the Sides.

You had a plan to tell all of them individually, but..starting with the guy who was deceived most and openly mocked his name probably wasn't a good idea.

Eventually the two halves of creativity left you both alone. And only then did you sit back down next to the now-dejected Janus, holding his hand. "Sorry you had to hear all that."

"Oh don't worry, it'sss new to me." He muttered, squeezing your hand in turn. "I'm sure Roman will have a tough time realizing he's definitely the most handsome one around here." The smirk he gave made you chuckle.

"Yeah, well..he'll get over it. We got off on the wrong foot with him, but I'm sure the others will be more accepting."

He's a monster He's a monster That boy, he's a motherfucking monster But I love him, yeah I love him Ooh ah, ooh ah ah

"Seriously? That guy?"

"Just hear me out, Virgil-"

"Oh I've heard plenty. I'm just warning you that it's a bad idea." Virgil huffed as he put his phone down. "He's a monster who's gonna use you for some selfish gain. You've seen it. He only cares about himself and hurts people to keep it that way."

"I know you've known him longest but...I'm pretty sure at this point he's moved past all of that." You pointed out. "Honestly, the only one being hurt here is him. First Roman, and now you?"

Despite your arguments, he just didn't seem convinced. "I'm not doing this to give you anxiety...I can only do that to Thomas. And I'm not gonna say "breakup with him right now". I'm just telling you that he's not what he seems."

"I appreciate your worries, but I love him and that's that." You insisted, crossing your arms over your chest as you stood defiant. Obviously it was in his nature to tell you to stay cautious, and he'd probably say the same if you were dating anyone else.

But calling Janus a monster seemed awfully harsh. You haven't even heard him call Remus that, which was odd.

'Seriously why is he being such a prick?'

"..whatever you say." Virgil shrugged before sinking out, leaving you alone by the staircase.

"I wouldn't worry. His opinion of me has never changed."

You realized Janus was eavesdropping and turned to face him, sighing. "Jan, are you doing something that's making them be so... brutally honest? This just seems unusual for them."

"Not that I'm aware of." He had briefly removed his glove, indicating he was tell you the truth.

"Hm..then again, Roman and Virgil are sorta the least-rational ones. One's jealous that he doesn't have a date and the other overthinks a lot."

"Wonderful observations, my dear."

"Patton and Logan are more down-to-earth and clear-headed so they might have more understanding."

"I'm sure they will." Janus' tone didn't match the optimistic words he uttered as he slipped the glove back on. "Oh and..I'll try not eavesdrop anymore."

Little did you know, that would be two lies.

Most people are scared When they look him in the eyes, all they see is fear (but) Let me make this clear I want him near

"How can you look into his eyes and..and.."

"Go on."

"And not be scared?! I know I would be, kiddo."

"...Patton, is that seriously your only argument? That he looks creepy?"

"No, no! I just..." For a moment the fatherly Side paused, before he sighed and patted your shoulder. "Listen, I do think you're being a good influence on that wriggly snake but...I only worry he's being a bad influence on you. Every time he's near you I-"

"It sounds like your only argument is "he's a creepy crawly snake so I shouldn't trust or love him". Is that all?"

"It's...a bit more complicated than-"

"It's a yes or no, Pat."

"...I'm trying to look at the bigger picture and, sure there's some good in him but..I worry he's gonna hurt you in the end, that's all. Like he hurt us several times by impersonating us." He tried to reason, but you just brushed his hand off your shoulder in disbelief.

"Wow, I didn't think you'd be one to judge books by their covers." You frowned slightly. "Well let me make this clear: I want him near me. I feel safe around him. I love him, outward appearances and all. So if you can't accept the way I see him then...we're done here."

With no more defenses, Patton sank out as you left the room. But in the hallway you spotted a familiar capelet vanish around the corner, and you found Janus, who manifested a brown eye contact over his snake eye. His scales almost vanished under his skin, but you called out to him before they could disappear entirely.

"Janus? I thought you weren't going to-"

"I..n-never expected Patton of all people to say that.." He held the side of his face shakily, keeping his head lowered so you didn't see the gradually forming tears. Only now he was starting to feel the impact of everyone's words. "If..it's my looks then...I can surely make adjusssstments.."

"No, sweetheart. You don't have to change your looks or be anyone else for me." You cupped a hand over the one that still covered the scales. "C'mon. You can't seriously believe Patton's dumb reasoning, right?"

"........."

All you got was a silent nod.

Most people can't sleep Feeling he's out, on the streets (but) He is my creep He is my creep

"While I see your relationship to Janus is beneficial-"

"Actually, nevermind. You're just gonna tell me the same shit everyone else did."

"...now [y/n], remember what we've discussed on cognitive distortions-"

"Jumping to conclusions? Overgeneralizing? I know. But I have valid reasons for those. You all think Janus is gonna hurt me because he's some "freaky selfish snake". But he's not, alright? He's been more truthful with me lately and I'm sick of the others not believing anything we say. So please, Logan..can you take my side for once?"

Logan was surprised by your outburst. He didn't even know you've talked to the others about Janus and assumed he'd respond in a similar fashion.

But he adjusted his glasses and looked at his notebook, all traces of emotion vanishing. "Logic can't take sides. If you would just listen..I've observed that your interactions with him have been generally positive, and that's helped Thomas-"

"There you go again..why does everything always gotta lead back to Thomas? Can't you just recognize Janus as his own person without assuming I'm only dating him to help-?"

"Because he can't be distracted from his core function!!"

You jumped a bit as he slammed down the notebook, scowling at you with a slight orange tinge behind his glasses. Though it was quick to disappear as he sighed. "He can never be his own person. You two will never have a truly normal relationship. I only advise that you keep that in the back of your mind."

And just like that, he left.

Every discussion you've had with a "Light" Side only left the bitter taste of frustration in your mouth...

Now what should you-?

You were startled again as you heard a nearby door slam shut, before realizing who overheard this conversation.

"Shit."

Is he human, does it matter I know he's what I'm after I can reel him, from disaster I know

"So..th-that's how they all see me, huh? A monster..n-not even a person."

"Jan.." Joining your boyfriend on the king-sized mattress, decorated in black and gold much like himself, you could finally see those walls he built up now crumbling to pieces.

One way or another, he heard what every Side had to say about him. And it was more than enough for him to realize they not only shun him for simply existing..

But they refuse to accept the idea that he's worthy of love, too. He can take the name-calling and insults in the videos, but this is what truly broke him.

He just scratched at his scales, his human eye already red and raw from crying as he wondered why you went through all of this just for him.

Any sane person would listen to the others and just breakup with him. He wasn't worth the effort.

You clearly deserved better.

You deserved someone who's more handsome, chill, kindhearted, or sensible-

"I know you can't truly be human but..does it matter?"

"...does it?" He sniffled, leaning into your touch more as you ran a hand through his hair. "Because apparently not. I know I'm not a perfect, flawless individual..I-I don't expect any of us to be. But if only I-I never-"

"Jan..you can't focus on what you can't change. I know you feel guilty, and if the others can't see that...it's their own fault. I won't stop fighting for us and for your happiness. I love you, okay?" Turning to him fully, you cupped both sides of his face and looked into his eyes.

"And in case you think I'm lying, I'll say it again: I. Love. You. None of their words will change that."

Hearing you become so determined to love him despite all odds made him sob again, this time from relief, as you put your arms around him.

Nobody's ever taken his side on anything...and certainly never defended him the way you did.

You felt several extra arms manifest to hug you back, and you smiled, closing your eyes.

Maybe in time the others will understand. But while it's true he looked like a monster and had his deceitful ways..

You knew what you were after.

And so did he.

Call the doctor, call the doctor Must be something wrong with me He's a monster, why do I want ya Please tell me, please tell me

[s1utspeare]

DID SOMEONE SAY BODY LANGUAGE COMPARISON???

I heard the sweet, dulcet tones of acting meta on this post and could not resist her call, so @xcziel, @foxofninetales, this one is for you.

THE LIU CHANG DMBJ CHARACTER META: WANG CAN vs LIU SANG

So first of all lemme just say I love these bitches, and what’s interesting about Liu Chang is that he plays them on opposite ends. There’s not much he can do about the fact that, y’know, he’s the same-ass person, but there are some very distinct differences between Liu Sang and Wang Can, which we will be talking about now.

Liu Sang photo cred: @foxofninetales

Wang Can photo cred: @xcziel

Jiang Wu photo cred: me screenshotting @xia-xueyi’s Moonfall Echo subs (ep. 13)

PART ONE: BODY LINES

I’ve talked about body lines before! But now we get to look at it from the same actor in two different characters! As a recap, straight lines are strong, sturdy, confident, and straightforward; curved lines are weaker, but more interesting and more dynamic.

For example!!

We got our bitch Wang Can here!! This is our first look at this slimy man, and look! He’s like a square!!! All straight lines, all ups and downs. Him body a square!! The costume people also do a great job of boxing him up bc of the tailoring of his jacket, and the two neutral color palette. There’s no embellishments, no decor. This is a straightforward man!! He’s not hiding anything except exactly how much of a bitch he is

(Also notice that his hands are showing and in fists. This will be important in a minute.)

Next, we have our favorite boy Liu Sang, showing up for the first time (ignore the differences in angles):

Oho! He’s a curvy motherfucker!! Aside from the fact that his clothes are now tailored correctly to demonstrate his natural curves, this mans is also curving himself! His arms! Are loose! And bent!! His head and neck aren’t nearly as emphasized! And! AND!!!! His hands are in his fucjing POCKEEETTTSSS. That indicates FURTIVENESS! That indicates MYSTERY! We’re going to find some things OUT about this boy and we’re gonna like it!!!

In comparison, look at Jiang Wu:

LIU CHANG U BEAUTIFUL BITCH. He fucking BENT HIS ARM. He kept one straight and BENT THE OTHER!!! Oh joyous occasion!! We have a DYNAMIC BOY!! but not too dynamic—peep that hidden hand! Also I love this bc it was TWO DIFFERENT LIU CHANG CHARACTERS IN THE SAME SHOW!!! :D see!! Here’s Liu Sang again!

THIS IS A CONFIDENT LIU SANG!!!! He is CHANGED! He is capable of expressing emotions now! Look at just how much body language he has going on, while in comparison, Jiang Wu and Wang Can are like creepy Wood Baby Puppets. His body shape is boxy again, but that’s bc he’s the protagonist of this one. The plot hinges on him, he’s gotta be sturdy.

WHAT WE HAVE DETERMINED SO FAR:

Wang Can is straight lines, no hidden agenda (which is funny cause he’s a Bad Guy)

Liu Sang is dynamic lines and movement, and alludes to mysterious ✨secrets✨

Jiang Wu is a mix of the two and also a dumb dork (that’s not from the body language, I just think he’s funny)

PART TWO: HAIR, BABY!

Once again I owe my life to costuming people. Someday I’ll write that Mystic Nine costuming meta but today we’re focusing on Liu Chang and, specifically, his HAIR PEOPLE!!! I love them and would die for them literally

Once again, ladies and gentlemen and all my glorious they/thems, Wang Can:

OOOOOH I hate his slimy RAT FACE lemme AT EM. Ahem. Regardless, let’s take a look at this BITCH, shall we? We have: straight line face angles!! Very standard shape, BUT this is all accented by the fact that his hair is S C R A P E D back to within an inch of its life, like. Ahem. Sir. Please. Also this man’s got CONTOUR on. If u look at literally any pics/videos of Liu Chang out of character he is NOT this angular. His head is just as rectangular as his body, and the pulled back hair emphasizes his face, which is interesting as he doesn’t do a whole lot with it.

Alternatively, Liu Sang:

This is a nice boy!!! This is a nice soft boy!!! Look his face has CURVES that are emphasized by the glasses (which also draw attention to his eyes, which is good bc that’s where he does the most work, which we’ll get to later) and the HAIR!!! His hair is soft!! It’s flowy! It’s curvy! He conditions!!! This boy is approachable and will Not shoot you One Million Times with a Machine Gun. This also works with the Liu Sang Signature Ponytail, as he leaves thick-enough bang pieces out to also give the illusion of curves around his face. Also his nose and cheekbones are NOT as strongly contoured, so the angularity of his face is softened as well

WHAT WE HAVE DETERMINED SO FAR

dmbj hair and makeup people were doing the absolute most

Wang Can’s hair gives us the most access to The Face, giving him a slick, straight look, and also something else which we will discuss next

Liu Sang is Soft and Curved bc of the hair and glasses, primarily

Oh speaking of fucking which you know who else is soft??? Huang Junjie. That’s the softest man I have ever seen. His xiaoge is my favorite bc it’s perfectly believable that he’s Butter Inside based solely on his Cheeks (again, it’s the hair people doing the Lord’s work)

PART THREE: IT’S ALL IN THE FACE

The face is the actor’s best friend, and Liu Chang definitely uses his well. We know him as being sort of stoic, more on the Xiao-Ge end of things than the Wu Xie side, but if u compare Liu Sang to Wang Can, LS is going HAM with the facials.

Let’s take a look!

Fuck me UP!!!!!! Look at him!! This is one of the earlier episodes too so we haven’t even gotten to the real good stuff but!!!! Look at his eyebrows!!! Look at how wide his eyes get (once again, the glasses are jumbotroning the peepers)! Look at his unhappy lil mouth!! That’s a whole REALM of facial expression, and so early on in our journey!

Meanwhile, Fuckboy Prime:

(Pardon the garbage screencap, my laptop broke on me this week and I am Suffering)

This is at the very end of Wang Can’s time with us; he’s fighting and he’s going to die and he KNOWS it, but this bitch doesn’t even draw his eyebrows together. Mcwhomst???? Bitch u GOTTA give us more than that I’m BEGGING u

The other interesting thing about their differing facial expressions is that Liu Sang emotes mostly with his eyes, and Wang Can emotes mostly with his mouth. This is very obvious in the clip @xcziel posted, esp when he starts doing the whole gesturing-with-his-chin thing, but it’s prominent throughout.

These two screenshots were taken like fifteen seconds apart. He does a whole face journey, but only with his mouth. His eyes stay fixed; they move, sure, but they don’t get any wider or anything like that.

Liu Sang, however is always doing stuff with his eyes. For example (I couldn’t find an image of it quick enough but I know that @kholran has this gifset), the sacrifice scene where he looks up at Wu Xie with the biggest, most pleading and questioning eyes imaginable?? Kills me. The DEPTH in those bad boys. Fuck me UP.

This also checks out when we remember the glasses. Since they emphasize the eyes, we’re drawn to that part of Liu Sang’s face, so it makes sense that the majority of his expression would happen there. This is also prominent with his hearing abilities; whenever he’s trying to focus them (or get us to focus on him), he not only turns his eyes away, he SHUTS THEM, which means we as the audience know that there’s something going on underneath the surface, and really highlights the fact that this is an unusual and cool power!

With Wang Can, however, the structure of his face and absence of Hair Curves directs the eye to his mouth, so we watch that to tell what’s going on in his head. It’s all about directing the eye, and Liu Chang is very good at knowing where people are going to be looking!

SO: WHAT HAVE WE LEARNED?

Liu Sang, Wang Can, and Jiang Wu are all very distinctly characterized through their body language

The same actor becomes different characters by using their toolkit (the body) to its full potential

Hair and makeup people are Wizards

Wang Can is a Whole-Ass Ho and I do not miss him even a little bit

Liu Sang’s body dynamics change over time and I love that for him!!

I’m a giant nerd the end

[goddessofmischief]

Blue Monday, Chapter Four - Loki x T.V.A.! Reader

Chapter Four... ‘Ladies and Gentlemen’

You almost wanted to step outside and freeze again. Better that, than to be faced with this - on your first-ever mission with a partner, no less. In a matter of hours, you had almost frozen to death. You had pretended to be a goddess - one that uncomfortably resembled you. And, worst of all, there was only one bed. Yeah. Really.

“We-ell,” you said, awkwardly, untangling your hand from Loki’s. Now that you were finally left alone, you didn’t have to keep pretending. But you did have to sleep somewhere.

“Let’s not pretend that this isn’t... difficult,” said Loki, “...Because it is. But don’t worry. I don’t share.”

You laughed. “Really? Kicking me out onto the floor, Odinson?”

“It would seem so. Alternatively, you can make peace with the fact that nothing is happening here, and allow it to be nothing.” “Oh, you think I’m the problem?”

“I truly do.”

“I’m the problem? Not the guy who pretended I was his wife though, right? There’s no way that maybe you’re the one who’s got some issue?” Loki crossed his arms, chuckling, and sat down on the bed. “If you’re implying that I feel anything for... a mortal like yourself, you’re wrong.” “Prove it.”

“Excuse me?”

“Prove it. Keep me warm.”

You cuddled up to him, and Loki sighed, covering you both up with a warm, woolen knit blanket. “You’re not really as warm as you thought I’d be,” you whispered, your breath hot against his freezing collarbone. “Loki, maybe you should take all the blanket-”

“I’m fine.”

He spoke like he didn’t want to go any further into the matter, so you didn’t push it. Simply closed your eyes, tried to breathe. “G’night.” Loki doesn’t respond. But you both fall asleep smiling. ... “Get up.”

You hadn’t woken up next to another person for forty years. And Loki was not making the experience any easier. Apparently, the God of Mischief is an early riser. “We lose light in four hours.”

“Don’t we want to lose light?” you muttered, yawning, rubbing at your eyes. “Well... yes. But we have to be at the fortress where they’re keeping the tesseract much before then. Remember, you don’t hold up in the cold, darling. We’ll need to make the trek before night falls.” “Which means...”

“Which means we leave now.”

Neither of you had changed out of your clothes, so you didn’t have to get ready. Loki looked as if he hardly needed sleep at all. You, however, felt like a mess. You were a mess. Your hair was untidy and unstyled, your skin still sore and red from the cold the night before. These things had never mattered to you before - really, they hadn’t. When you were at home, on Earth... even then. In the 1970s, most people weren’t wearing makeup, anyway. Most of them barely wore clothes.

You tugged your pant leg down, uncomfortably, attempting to ignore your appearance in the mirror. “You’re not honestly self conscious, are you?”

Jerk.

“No,” you said, smoothing down your jacket. “No, why would I feel self-conscious in front of a... well, whatever the hell you are.” “If you do, love, you shouldn’t.” Loki leaned back, seemingly pleased with himself. “You look...”

“Professional,” you interrupted, reaching over and brushing one of your stray hairs from his coat. “Professional, always.” ... The trek was actually kind of... nice.

Long, and exhausting. And filled with melting, slippery roads, still wet from the snow before. But nice. And shockingly silent, for a man who infamously loved to talk. But you couldn’t be mad at him for it. You liked Loki quiet. “Careful,” Loki said, reaching over to you, offering his hand to help you over a puddle. “I’m fine - oh!”

To the surprise of neither of you, you had slipped - and Loki had swept you off your feet, literally. “Are you going to carry me all the way, or-”

He unceremoniously dropped you. “Ow!” “I wouldn’t want to humiliate you, sweet.” “How considerate, darling.”

For the first time, you’d hurled one of his venomous compliments back at him - and it felt pretty damn good. He became completely stiff, still managing to walk, but no emotion or expression crossed his face. “You okay there, ‘Oki?”

He nodded, a little more quickly that most people would.

“Yes,” Loki said. “It’s just, that was spoken like-” 

“Spoken like what?” 

“Spoken like her,” he said. “And yet...”

...

Loki was continuing to make your existence a joyless one.

For one... you’d just arrived at the fortress.

A fortress Loki seemed to have no interest in helping you get into.

"Damn it!” you shouted, rushing up against the gates. “They’re... they’re locked.”

Loki was sensing your frustration. He knew it, and you knew it. And you could practically see the little gears turning in his mind. He was trying to wind you up, and you just wouldn’t let him.

“Just use your powers.”

“I don’t have any powers!”

You were on the edge. Loki was determined to make you fall off.

Well... not today. 

“Alright,” you said, finally.

“Alright... Loki. You stay here. I’m going to go around the side.”

“What? Why?” He sounded panicked, and for all the wrong reasons.

You shrugged.

“They might have left it open. Or... maybe, there’s a key under the mat.”

“You must be joking.”

“You must know that I’m not.”

“Never mind that. I’ll use my powers, and... they’ll surely hand the Tesseract over when they see who is demanding it. You saw that town back there. Even if they’re not quite as zealous as the others, these people must adore me.”

“Or.... maybe not.”

“Come again?”

You gestured at a wooden sign, trying to contain your laughter.

Törvedalen.

Which, if the simple Norse you learned had not failed you, translated to the Valley of Thor.

“Maybe that’s why they took the tesseract from the other town,” you managed, gulping as you watched Loki’s briefly irritated, then furiously incensed expression. “Maybe... there’s a little bit of a war going on here, over who they like best. You gotta admit, Loki, that statue in town was pretty oversized.”

“It was exactly adequate - whose side are you on, anyway? Are you not my partner?”

You shrugged.

“I’m just trying to help.”

Loki saw your worried expression and softened, slightly, his hands unclenching.

“Alright,” he said. “So we’ll go in - together. I’ll talk to them. I’ll make them understand - and they’ll get exactly what they bargain for, one way or another.”

“Do I have to be Amora again?”

You sounded pathetic, admittedly - you felt pathetic.

Luckily for you, Loki shook his head.  “No, love. Just be Y/N L/N. That should do it.”

...

“Hello!” called Loki, having strolled through the front gate - it turned out his magic was completely effective at undoing non-magical locks, and he could’ve opened the gate the whole time. He was just toying with you.

As usual.

“Hello!”

“Y’know,” you said, trying to keep your voice low, “Y’know, we don’t really have to shout, if we stay quiet we might be able to get the tesseract and sneak-”

“Don’t pester me. I could use a little Amora right now.”

Well, that stung.

“Well, she isn’t in,” you muttered, holding a dimly lit torch up to another sign. “She’s not here. She’s not even real.”

“Really, this again, darling? You’ve forgotten so easily the art we saw in the village. That didn't look real to you? Would you prefer, perhaps, a larger painting?”

“That doesn’t mean anything, and you know it. How do I know you’re not just screwing with me? You trick people. It’s sort of... what you do.”

You knew you were being mean - well, mean for you. He was your partner, shouldn’t you be kind and tolerate his little... eccentricities?

Then again, Loki was sort of wrecking you, mentally. The last time someone did that... you’d just let it happen.

Well. Not this time.

“Guilty,” Loki admitted, his voice lowering. It wasn’t threatening, instead, it was actually sort of... nice?

Kind of nice. Almost sweet.

“But this isn’t a trick, I’ll promise you that. It means just as much to me that I learn to understand this - because for once, I know as much as you do, love. So it's up to us. To figure it out, together-”

Just then, a group of Nordic warriors stormed in.

Holding axes.

“They’re holding axes,” you whispered, tugging on Loki’s sleeve. “Loki, they’re-”

“I noticed - gentlemen, what can we do for you?”  He repeated the last sentence again, this time in Old Norse.

The group shouted something back at him.

“What’d they say?”

“Something about 'a light cube.’ Our light cube, I presume, unless there happen to be others.”

“Ask them if they can give it to us.”

“Sweet, you have to know they won’t.”

But he translated your request, all the same.

“He said that they can’t,” said Loki. “Because... of their leader?”

“Do you know who leads them? Is it Thor?”

“No... this is... an alternate Earth. It wouldn’t be my Thor... it could be someone else...”

“Tell them to take us to the leader.”

“My, aren't you bold? What makes you think this leader won't just kill us?”

“I don’t know! But it’s worth a try, yeah?”

Loki rolled his eyes, attempting to translate again, and one of the Vikings responded.

“They’ve agreed. To take us to... who is it, again?”

The Viking shouted something out, and Loki’s face paled.

"What did he say?”

“He said,” said Loki, clearing his throat, “That... he’d bring us to the leader. Their leader, the new ruler of Törvedalen ... Lady Loki.”

Taglist: gorgeourrific-nerd @suwupremeleader​ @sserpente @tripleyeeet 

[akaiamedama]

Of crocodiles and rings and a possible connection to a teased weakness

Crocodile is a guy that is real extra and dresses sharp and loves his bling bling, right? He’s a man of high standards, so of course, he’s gotta wear bling to show that. Other bling loving characters are Capone Bege and Blackbeard for example. All three of them like to show off that bling. Now why do I mention the other two? Coz look at these three bling loving gentlemen, wearing rings on every finger and tell me where the difference lies. I’ll wait.

Exactly!

As opposed to Bege and Blackbeard, Crocodile doesn’t wear a ring on every finger. Obviously he cannot wear 10 rings coz he only got one hand with 5 fingers but he also never wears 5 rings. No, no. This guy, ladies and gentlemen, kinda makes it a point to always leave out one finger and that’s the ring finger. Ha- interesting.

Now, of course this could be mere coincidence. But let’s be realistic here, it’s Oda. He clearly has a reason for it as he’s been true to this detail ever since Crocodile was introduced over a decade ago and the only real question is ‘why’?

Why would Crocodile do that? He clearly loves wearing rings so why not wear them on every finger? Why leave out the ring finger for crying out loud? If one wanted to leave a finger without a ring, one would probably leave out the pinky or the thumb but who puts rings on every finger and leaves out the ring finger? I tell you who.

Crocodile. That’s who.

If you’re one who believes in symbolism and all that stuff, then you’d probably find it interesting that the ring finger symbolises releationships with others especially romantical ones as it is seen closest to the heart and therefore or because of it is the finger a wedding ring is worn on. In most cultures the engagement ring is worn on the right hand and the wedding ring on the left as the right hand is often the ‘physical’ one and has a greater visibility. It’s probably interesting to note that the left hand is considered to represent your character and beliefs. Ha. Interesting that Crocodile is missing that one, huh? Anyhow, in Crocodile’s case left or right hand doesn’t really matter as he only has one left (duh) so an argument can be made that sides don’t matter and the importance lies on the finger itself.

The way it looks right now is that he’s making a statement leaving out the ring finger and there are a few possibilites here. Of course it could be a family ring and he could be from an important family but really, not only would that be a bit to similar to Doflamingo, it would also not make sense to not just replace the family ring on the occations he’s not wearing it. But he never wears a ring on that finger so one can only come to the conclusion that there’s some sentimental thought behind that.

The most logical would be that there is a ring he believes should be on that finger. Either he’s keeping it free for a future event coz he doesn’t have the ring yet (which I doubt) or he’s keeping it free coz technically there already is a ring for the finger. This could be a ring he doesn’t have anymore and regrets it (like he lost it with his left hand or threw it away) or a ring he does have but decides not to wear for his own reasons. Whichever it is, it clearly has such an important value that he doesn’t just covers it up or replaces it. 

Now, given the ring finger and it’s symbolism the thought of a wedding ring isn’t too far fetched. We don’t know enough about his past to say that he could never have been married so I think it’s worth looking into.

Let’s just imagine for a second, that the ring missing is indeed a wedding ring, what could that mean?

He could have had a wife but she died and even though he’d technically not be married anymore, people who lost their partner almost always keep their wedding ring as a memento. If they move on, they don’t wear it anymore but they often keep it. This could give another perspective to the ‘wounds’ Daz was referring to after Marineford as he was clearly not talking about Luffy’s physical wounds but about the emotional wounds that came with losing a loved one.

Crocodile could have had a wife but she betrayed him and he took the ring off as to break the relationship and connection. Then the choice to not wear a ring on that finger in the future could serve as a reminder to himself not to trust people, not even those close to you. This could possibly explain his huge trust issues.

However, these two scenarios, while possible, don’t strike me as the most likely simply due to the two following scenes:

“If you want to protect something, do it right!!” 

This could be totally random and only refer to the moment at hand but it could also indicate that he knows a thing or two about how to successfully protect someone. Which leads us to the infamous

“I know one of his weaknesses ...!! But if he cooperates with us ... then I won’t say anything about it!!”

Think about it, the biggest weakness ANY pirate of Crocodiles caliber could have is a loved one or people they care about and their identity and location to be known by the public or enemies (marines, pirates etc.) because no matter how powerful a pirate you are, if information like that was to spread and reach the wrong ears, this could have catastrophic consequences for you and the people you care about. It’s used over and over in OP stories like when the marines hunted down Gol D. Rogers offspring and slaughtered all newborn who could potentially have been Roger’s child or when the marines swore to kill Luffy for being Dragon’s son or when Zeff was used as leverage to force Sanji to comply. I doubt anyone knows Usopp is Yasopp’s son or that he had a woman and child in Syrup village otherwise someone would have probably attacked them to get back at Yasopp. Maybe that’s one of the reasons he left them. As to protect them.

Ivankov and Croc met years ago when Croc was still considered a rookie, so in his early/mid twenties. If there is indeed a ring to that finger and the person is still alive, Ivankov could know her identity or location and this could totally be the weakness Ivankov was refering to. Of course this only works if the person is still alive. 

Now I know, you’re probably scratching your head, thinking I might be a bit nuts going this direction considering it’s Crocodile we’re talking about but really, think about it. His choice of jewelry is mega weird so what could be the reaaon for it? Also it’s hardly the weirdest theory out there (looking at you femCroc theorists).

This would also tie in neatly with why he decided to have his Baroque agents working in teams of two with male/female. I mean, unlike other characters, he clearly doesn't seem to see women as the weaker sex and him having his agents work in pairs has to be grounded somewhere. Maybe he was raised like that and his parents where a good example of how well men and women complement each other or maybe he made the experience himself. If so, I tend to think that he wasn't betrayed by the woman... or maybe he was and that's one of the reasons why he was so paranoid and basically expected Robin to betray him. All possible, really.

It’s also apparent that Oda incorporates marriages a lot more often nowadays than he did in the early years of One Piece. Mr 9 and Mrs Mondey got married on a cover page and have a baby, Capone got married and his henchman Gotty married too, Sai and Baby 5 married, Sanji and Pudding were meant to marry and let’s not forget poor Senior Pink’s backstory. 

Last but not least, I’d like to point out a seemingly random fan question Oda answered in an SBS which seems just kinda odd once you consider everything I said above.

Now the question focuses on “they never had a child” and “I wonder what faces their children would have”, yet Oda starts with “They’ve been to weddings before ...” ... WOW. Really? Why would he say that? XD No one even asked about weddings. Funny. So they’ve been to weddings, huh? As what? Guests? Grooms? You know? It doesn’t seem to mean anything but if you consider Crocodile’s rings and such imo it’s just a weird thing to say. Then the mysterious “I wouldn’t say whether they had children or not ...” ..... 

Note: Especially during Alabasta Oda often forgets to draw Croc’s rings at all or accidentally leaves out the wrong finger but he is consistent with the rings since Impel Down. He still forgets them from time to time but he doesn’t switch the fingers anymore so one could reason that he had a vague idea of Crocodile’s reasons behind the rings when he introduced him but only solidified it or gave it more details once Croc showed back up. The anime and games however often just leave out the wrong ring probably thinking that it doesn’t matter.

[jbreenr]

⚠ LOKI 104 spoilers ⚠

I loved seeing Asgard at the beginning. I just did.

Knowing that Ravonna was the one that couldn't keep Sylvie from escaping explains why that case was so personal to her.

I gotta admit that I got excited when I saw the room with the Time-Keepers.

They freaking got rid of the hunter because she knew she was a variant. I hate it here.

“What makes a Loki a Loki?” Him saying that a Loki don't die, survives had me crying. Tell that to Endgame!Loki.

Them holding hands and accepting their deaths was too much for me.

Sif. Sif. LADY SIF LADIES AND GENTLEMEN. JAMIE ALEXANDER WAS IN THIS EPISODE AND I FREAKING SCREAME OUT OF EXCITEMENT!!!

The time cell is an interesting way of punishment.

Mobius said they had brought to the TVA Krees, Titans and Vampires. You know what that means? If not (and probably not) Morbius, BLADE connection!

B-15 knew something.

Now, Loki got emotional over Sylvie's potential death. And Mobius saying that Loki had a crush on her. Uuuh… I don't know how to feel about it.

Also, him telling Loki that he's a bad friend. He's hurt. I don't like it.):

B-15 taking Sylvie back to Roxxcart so she could confirm what she saw when Sylvie used her and asking “What now?” after being shown that she's a variant. I. Didn't. See. That. Coming.

Mobius finding out that Ravonna lied to him. I wanna punch her in her perfect teeth.

“Trust the word of a friend.” They're besties. Mobius and Loki are besties.

And they got caught! Why did they get caught? That's not fair.

I CAN'T BELIEVE THEY ERASED MOBIUS. I WANT TO PHYSICALLY FIGHT SOMEONE RIGHT NOW.

What happened to B-15? She just fell to the ground. Or, did I miss something?

The fake Time-Keepers. Idk man. It was kind of obvious. At least their appearances were not convincing.

Who created the TVA? Was it Kang? Is it still too soon to talk about him?

F*ck you, Ravonna for erasing Loki!!!

Also, thank you for interrupting him.

“Is this Hel? Am I dead?” THAT FREAKING POST-CREDIT SCENE. THERE WERE OTHER LOKI'S AND I NEED TO KNOW WHAT HAPPENS IN THE NEXT EPISODE ASAP.