#the way he controls Ronan

[clotpolesonly]

Blue Lily, Lily Blue ch 15 // Mister Impossible ch 25

[bluesadansey]

remembering on my circa 2017 booklr I used to tell people to read Gemma Doyle by describing it as trc but with an all girls boarding school / all girl group in a historical setting… I was trying to do the lord’s work she deserved tumblr fame

[monstressmasc]

Sammy Stevens is so Adam Parrish to me

[odessa-2]

Titbits and analysis 🖖

As promised, some more titbits from the Con yesterday in Melbourne as well as my interpretations. Prior to attending yesterday, I told myself to keep an open mind and attempt to leave any biases behind (even after having seen the funeral pics). Clean slate. To try and view Sam, the event, questions, and subsequent behaviours objectively.

I'm the sort of person who feels energy and is affected by it and in some ways governed by it. The energy of people, both individually and collectively. The energy of a group. I tend to couple this with objective analysis, which forms the basis of my conclusions about people and situations.

I applied this method yesterday in attempting to understand and view Sam, the OL money 💰 machine and everything else. I also just wanted to go there and bask in the audience and enjoy myself....and....I did like it Jamie.

So first thing I noticed off the cuff was how experienced Sam was in handling questions, and the women, and tailoring his behaviour to suit their desires. He was charming, charismatic, approachable, a skilled professional. I saw the veneer. I felt the veneer. I also saw and felt that he is a pretty decent bloke under that veneer. A man with a solid work ethic, who is mild mannered and working with purpose in his life.

I observed that his handler or Convention agent or whatever he is, Steve, was in full control. He managed Sam's performance in a sense. He asked the questions and even set the directions for some answers. Sam is controlled. I didn't like Steve. I didn't get the best vibe off him. Infact, I got a bad vibe off him. I observed that everything was a performance. Scripted to a large degree. The Single Sam narrative was pushed by Steve. Hard. It was a performance. That much was clear to me.

So Sam chose to mention that he was in Austria skiing 2 weeks ago....blah blah...something about singing a Ronan Keating song. So the script tells everyone nice and early that he is NOT with Caitriona ✅️

Later on in the panel, he mentioned that he "was at the theatre in London the week earlier" watching a play. Huh? Getting his timeline confused? Interesting titbit, I thought. Who would he go to the theatre with whilst in London? Who else likes to go to the theatre? Who have we seen him go to the theatre with before? Ding ding ding!!

One of the first things he spoke about (umprompted) and imo was part of his speaking program, was that Caitriona is back home in Scotland doing prep work and will be directing this season. He said that he spoke to her recently and that she is cold and miserable back home. No one seemed to give a shit. The women were there for their Jamie. Sam read the crowd. He understood.

Sam tried to bring Cait into the conversation again saying something like "Where's Claire?....Caitriona isn't here". Again crickets from the audience.

He said that he auditioned with a lot of Claire's, but they couldn't find the right fit and that nobody was as brilliant as Caitriona.

It sounded like he genuinely missed her.

He spoke of his audition with Cait, saying they were very physical and were almost wrestling each other. He said he was sweating all over her and that his sweat was on her. The crowd still only wanted to hear about their Jamie. I think Sam relished in being cheeky in saying that she wore his sweat that day.

Someone asked about "how do you kiss and make out with a costar and then just carry-on. Isn't it awkward"? Sam responded generally initially, saying that there's lots of checking in with the person and apologising afterwards (in a joking fashion). Then that prompted him to start talking about Cait saying that he has also "snotted" all over Cait and exchanged many body fluids with her (in an acting context presumably)and that there's nothing really left to do together that they haven't already done. I was like "whoooaa wtf Sam?". Shooketh that he said that really. The silence from the crowd was palpable. They really didn't want to hear about Cait and Sam and their shared bodily fluids whilst 'acting'. He is THEIR fantasy man. Not Caitriona's. Silence from the audience. Sam already knew that the crowd were Sam onlies but he loved telling this story. Relished in it imo. He loved the double entendre. It was an unrehearsed, unscripted conversation as it resulted from an audience question. I concluded it was an act of defiance on his behalf. That's what it felt like to me.

Steve the convention agent guy, was always bringing it back to Single Sam. "I worry how are you going to get a date" said Steve. With Sam understanding the prompt ...."I worry too" says Sam. Bachelor narrative secured ✅️

Steve spruked the Bachelor narrative again to Sam's thirsty and adoring fans....."Sam you remind me of that old show where everyone has to guess which bachelor is going to come out of the mystery door". And that's when I knew with 100 percent certainty that the bachelor talk was a ruse. It was so contrived and performative. I smiled to myself. The women in the crowd were eating it up.

Another thing that stood out to me was when Sam was searching for the right terminology when talking about Cait. "My......co star" huge pause.

"I love you Claire" is the line he randomly chose to say when explaining his acting.

When asked how he has time to foster friendships and spend time with his family he talked around it. Avoided the question and kept it about his friendships saying that they are strong friendships that endure. He diverged and started talking about how he still has his core friendships that he had when he was bunking and sharing an apartment/house with them in London when he was younger. The veneer was up. Inpenetrable.

At another point in the panel Sam asked "How many Sheila's are there here"? LOL. I found that amusing.

Now this next part captured my attention the most. It had a weird feeling (energy) around it . Sam gave off a weird energy. Almost hostile. Again that's just what I felt.

Someome from the audience named Toni with an "I" was selected to ask a question. I can't remember what the question was but Sam made a really big deal about her being named Toni. "There's always a Tony have you noticed"? Why is there always a Tony"? He said. He didn't want to drop it. He placed a little too much emphasis on it. I was laughing silently but Sam's double entendre didn't go unnoticed by me. Everyone else was clueless or at least that's how it appeared to me. Was that an Easter egg dropped by Sammy?

Asked about what does he do for self care, he seemed to struggle answering that too. He talked in circles about his way points hike and how he's learning how to live in the moment. There's that wall again.

There were many other things discussed of course but I thought I'd focus on the things that shed light on his situation and that resonated with me.

So my closing Analysis? Sam is controlled. He peforms. He caters. He's intelligent and in tune with people and aims to please but is private. Sunday just reaffirmed and solidified my beliefs. Caitriona snatched up that hard working gem of a man quick smart!

[youwouldneverbreakthechain]

I don't like the Found Family trope.

There, did I get your attention? It's true, but the question is, why is Guardians of the Galaxy still one of my favorite stories in any medium ever?

Something really clicked for me with the ending of Vol. 3 (spoilers ahead, natch). The team broke up and that kind of development is usually heartbreaking, because we love the team, they love each other, now that they've found each other why should they ever part ways?

The answer is that they're a family, and that's what families do. Growing up means leaving the parents who raised you and finding a path of your own, maybe to someday continue the cycle with kids of your own, but never losing what you got from your first family. Those people, who you can't choose, will always be a part of you.

Each of the Guardians, aside from Drax, had their childhoods interrupted by traumatic events. They didn't get to finish growing up naturally, and that loss hounded them all their lives. When they found each other they began to heal, but here's what I didn't realize until the end of the trilogy: the family that they found with each other wasn't the kind that you make when you grow up. It's the kind that you grow out of.

From the beginning, Peter has shown signs of "Peter Pan Syndrome," acting like a little boy even though he's highly skilled, courageous, and compassionate. His maturity gradually began to show through, but one quirk that kept coming up was his refusal to return to Earth. No good reason for it except that he couldn't bear the reminder of his mother and he was ashamed to face his grandfather. He can handle it now because his life with the Guardians gave him the stability he needed to become a true adult.

Gamora's new incarnation doesn't need the Guardians because she found the Ravagers instead. We don't know much about them but I expect that what they did for Yondu, they'll do for her too. In the meantime, Nebula's had a few good years of being loved and now she can follow the footsteps of the Gamora who was lost, aside from falling for Peter, because that's unlikely to ever work again.

Groot's been the most fortunate, not having his youth cut short or taking any serious trauma since he sprouted. Eventually he may want to strike out on his own, but until then it's good that he can stick with Rocket.

Mantis seemed more aware than anyone of their internal struggles, including her own. Which is appropriate, her being an empath and all. She really made the boldest possible move, going it alone, and I'm proud of her. Hoping she'll make an appearance in The Marvels or something else before reuniting with Peter and/or the Guardians.

Drax is a special case and the one who I thought was most likely to die, since it seemed like his arc was all wrapped up: he had his childhood before we met him and it was his adulthood that was ripped away from him. Revenge was his entire deal and Ronan and Thanos are dead now, so what's left for Drax? Well, it turns out revenge doesn't have to be his entire deal and now I'm embarrassed I ever thought otherwise.

Rocket...oh, Rocket. We always knew that he was something other than what nature had intended, and that was on top of the nonstop physical and emotional abuse, but now it turns out he already lost the only three people who put anything good into his sad little life. Since there was nothing to salvage from his upbringing, he was the one who needed the Guardians the most, so he's the only founding member to stay. But no mistake, it matters that he's staying as the leader. He's not alone, but he's not under anyone's control, either. He knows who is now and he knows his worth.

The "don't call me a raccoon" running joke always bothered me a little but I never dreamed it would have a payoff like it did in Vol. 3. Rocket claiming his full name is much more than a nod to his comic origins. It's his understanding of where he began and the injustice that was done to him, his acceptance that he wasn't at fault for the deaths of his first companions and that he does deserve to be loved by the Guardians.

That's the foundation that lets everyone part ways without having to ask each other if this means their relationships are over. As far as I've seen, no other found family in fiction has reached this point - the team is generally the endgame, and if someone leaves, things will never be the same again.

In a real family, a good one, when someone leaves we celebrate. Congratulations on your first apartment. Good luck at college. Blessings on your union. Just remember, you can always come home again. Our arms are open for you.

[unclewaynemunson]

Tadaaaa here is the sequel to this post, which came from an ask that got me in a chokehold for days now so kudos to the lovely anon who sent that prompt to me! You can also read the whole thing on ao3 :)

As soon as Eddie got into the passenger seat of his Wayne's truck, he saw the whole world go blurry. He tried to blink away his tears, but it was no use – nothing ever escaped his uncle's notice anyway.

'Wanna tell me what's wrong, boy?' he asked while he started the car.

Eddie grimaced. 'You know how they say you should never meet your heroes?'

'Hm?'

'Well, I met mine. On the fucking train. Just yet.'

Wayne shot him an incredulous glance.

'What was the Black Sabbath guy doin' on a train?'

'What? No, it wasn't... No.'

'The Hobbits guy?'

'Jesus Christ, Wayne, Tolkien died like fifteen years ago, keep up.'

'You want me to keep guessin' or you gonna tell me?'

Eddie rolled his eyes.

'Yeah, no, you wouldn't guess it right anyway. It's this poet.'

'Don't think I ever heard you talk 'bout poetry before,' Wayne remarked.

And that was exactly the thing. Ronan Right had been something... private. Something between Eddie and the faceless blob in his mind that embodied Right – and maybe Jeff. Okay, and Jeff's mom. But it wasn't someone he'd talk people's ears off about on any occasion he got, like he did with plenty of other musicians or writers that he'd get all obsessive about.

Until Steve, that was. Steve, who had been casually listening to his music. Steve, who had recognized the book in his hands and effortlessly opened the floodgates of his obsession. Steve, who had said the most beautiful things about Corroded Coffin without even knowing who Eddie was. Steve, who had talked with him about their shared passions for hours. Steve, who he now somehow had to merge with Right in his mind.

Steve, who seemed so perfect that it made all of Eddie's alarm bells go off at the loudest possible volume. Because this couldn't be real. This was something straight from a disgustingly sweet romcom scenario, and if there was anything Eddie could be certain about, it was that his life was no romcom.

So during the short walk from the station to Wayne's car, Eddie's head had already come up with a dozen scenarios that were completely spiraling out of control – even though they'd all make for great songs, no doubt about that. Steve would die some kind of tragic death on his way to their first date. Steve was secretly addicted to crack. Steve was a stalkerish fan who had lied to him about being Ronan Right to get close to him. Steve would cheat on him on their wedding day.

The list of possibilities was endless and terrifying – while the list of possibilities for this having a happy ending, on the other hand, was exceptionally short.

'Was it that bad?' asked Wayne while they headed out of the city.

Usually, Eddie enjoyed amping up his dramatics to a maximum around Wayne, providing the much-needed balance to his uncle's calm and steady demeanor. But right now, Eddie felt himself deflate in his seat. He couldn't bring himself to make a show out of it.

'No,' he said, quietly. 'He was perfect.'

And Wayne must've heard it in his voice, must've picked up right away that this wasn't Eddie being dramatic, that something serious was going on here, because he gave him this look that was cutting way too deep into his heart.

'Nobody can be that perfect, you know,' Eddie continued. 'It's impossible. And he – he gave me his number. And I just know that if I call it, and we get to know each other better, I'll get crushingly disappointed sooner rather than later. Because something has to be, like, disturbingly wrong with this guy.'

Anyone else than Wayne would probably tell Eddie that he was being ridiculous, that he should get over himself and call Steve; that he should allow himself to let good things happen to him or some shit. But Wayne wasn't just anyone. Wayne was the one person who knew exactly what Eddie meant. The one person who had seen from up-close the shitshow that Eddie's life had been, who had retained a front row seat through all of it. And he had had his own fair share of misery himself, Eddie knew that much. He was too old and had gotten punched down too many times to still hold naive illusions of the possibility of good things.

So he didn't give him some bullshit advice. He merely patted Eddie's knee and turned up the radio.

---

Ever since Eddie had left Hawkins, it had become a habit of him to stay with Wayne for a couple of weeks every now and then. For all his desires to get the hell out of that town when he was younger, he still spent way too much time at his uncle's trailer. But it wasn't Hawkins that he came back for, it was uncle Wayne.

It was home. And it helped him breathe whenever the city got too intense. Helped him get detached from everything that distracted him from the shit that actually mattered. Helped him get his head right when Chicago was threatening to make him lose it.

Time seemed to move differently in Hawkins than in the city. Slower. More naturally, too, somehow. Maybe it was because of the lack of nightlife and flashing neon signs when the world was supposed to be wrapped in darkness. The fact that he could still see the stars when he stepped out of the trailer at nighttime. Maybe it was the quiet, which allowed him to actually hear himself think. Or maybe it was the predictability of it all: Wayne waking him up with a cup of coffee in the morning, the two of them sharing cigarettes on the porch, Eddie helping Wayne with some chores and then trying to write new songs until well into the night, when the world was his and his alone.

He kept reading Right almost religiously, but it was different, now. Now that he could hear Steve's voice say those words, now that he could envision the way in which the sun shone on his hair through the dirty train window and the shape of his hands clutching a walkman that had Eddie's music in it. It was all different.

After a week, Eddie had a whole album worth of songs about the deception of things that seemed perfect. He hadn't been able to write even one song about things ending well, about things working out. That wasn't his life. Things never worked out. Why would they, for a boy born in a household where the trifecta of poverty, addiction and violence was all he had ever known? In the five albums he had produced so far, he'd never experienced a lack of demons to write about.

So no, he wouldn't be calling Steve, even though he had read the number that was written down on the sleeve of his own album so often that it'd probably be impossible to ever erase it from his mind again. He'd protect himself, this time. He'd cherish the hours he got to spend with Ronan Right, the memories that were already starting to feel like a fever dream, and not let his heart break any further. Not this time. Not again.

---

'Got mail for ya.'

An envelope landed in Eddie's lap.

'What's this?'

'I dunno, 's your mail,' Wayne answered.

Eddie didn't recognize the handwriting and the Indianapolis post stamp didn't give him much of a clue either. It didn't make sense that someone would send him a letter at his uncle's place.

He frowned, roughly tore open the envelope and pulled a single sheet of paper out of it. It was neither directed at nor signed by anyone, but that wasn't necessary for Eddie to know who sent it.

'What is it, boy?' Wayne asked, a worried edge to his voice upon hearing the choked sob that freed itself from Eddie's throat.

Eddie knew that the words were only meant for him. But he and Wayne were a unit, always had been, ever since Eddie moved into Forest Hills. So he wordlessly handed the paper to his uncle, roughly wiping the tears from his eyes.

Wayne assessed the text with a wrinkled forehead, holding the paper at an arm's-length in order to read it.

'That from the boy you met on the train?'

Eddie nodded.

When his uncle looked up from the letter, Eddie caught an almost unfamiliar look in his eyes. It was soft, hopeful. Optimistic.

'You know I ain't any good with words, like you, or this – this poet,' Wayne said. 'But this...' He pressed the letter back into Eddie's hand. 'This looks like he knows you, Ed. Like he sees you. For all that you are.'

He didn't tell Eddie what to do; that wasn't his style, never had been. But what he did say kept bouncing through Eddie's head unceasingly, making him unable to sleep, unable to write, unable to think about anything else.

---

Eddie desperately wanted to say something meaningful when Steve picked up the phone. He wanted to thank him for reaching out, to apologize for being too much of a coward to call earlier – but what came out of his mouth instead was, 'How did you know where to find me?'

'Eddie, is that you?' It sounded like Steve didn't quite believe it.

'Yeah – yeah, it's me,' was the only thing he managed to get out of his mouth.

'Look, I'm sorry if I overstepped,' Steve told him. 'I just – I couldn't get you out of my head and it all felt so right, you know, like fate or some shit, so I just had to... I needed to try. And I knew your name, and that you were staying with your uncle, so I got help from some friends and they managed to find your uncle's address.'

And as if Eddie hadn't been enough of an emotional wreck over the past week, his vision got blurry with tears yet again.

'Sorry, was it – did I go too far?' Steve sounded nervous.

Eddie could perfectly envision the way he would be frowning and anxiously running a hand through his hair; as if they had already shared a whole lifetime of getting to know all about each other's mannerisms instead of a few stolen hours on a train.

He hated the idea of Steve thinking he had done something wrong when all he ever did was so fucking right, so he determinedly shook his head, then realized Steve wouldn't be able to see that, and started scraping for words.

'No, Steve, you... You're perfect. And that scared the shit out of me, because so far, my life hasn't really done perfect. Most of our songs, they're – well – creative retellings of my own shit.' Now that he started talking, the words actually came a lot easier. 'They're all real, at the core, when you peel away the layers of, like, monster slaying and fantasy imagery. Like, everything underneath all that, it's all... me. Damage, betrayal, fear, violence – all that shit is true. Life hasn't been kind to me, Steve. And I was convinced that you'd only become an addition to that long list of crap, because you seemed way too perfect. I never thought I could have something good. And you're good, Steve, you're so fucking good. So I couldn't believe it.'

A long silence ensued at the other side of the line. Then, a sigh.

Then, 'Eddie,' in the softest voice possible, like his name was something breakable. Eddie didn't remember ever having heard his name said like that.

'I think that was exactly what I heard in your songs. Why I kept listening to them. Why they inspired me so much.'

Eddie tried to swallow away the lump in his throat, suffocated by the emotions bubbling up inside of him.

'I wish I could hold you, right now.'

Eddie's breath caught. He knew exactly what he needed to do: he needed to stop running. He needed to trust that Steve could be right, for him. That Steve could be something good.

'I mean, you could come over to Hawkins and do just that, you know,' he suggested.

'D'you want me to?'

He nodded, again forgetting that Steve couldn't see him.

'Yeah, I'd like that. Probably still got half that cookie somewhere in my pocket, y'know. Maybe we could share it.'

Credit where credit is due: the line “He sees you, for all that you are” isn't mine, it's one of my favorite quotes from Schitt's Creek and I really wanted Wayne to say that to Eddie about Steve, so here we have it <3

@ My beloved 🥐 anon: I hope you like this ending, and that I came close enough to your suggestion to have Steve make Eddie a character in his next poem <3

Taglist: @kathorakiryu @goodolefashionedloverboi @undreaming-rambles @fangirlycupcake @ghouligans-central @henderdads @dolphincliffs @anglhrts @ajamlessbaby @yearningagain @vampireinthesun @xxbottlecapx @kissaphobic-kas @mad-h-w @booksandsience @obsessivlyme @ppunkpuppyy @barnes-bestgirl @capital-p-platonic​ @eddiemunsonmeltdowns @callme-keys​​

[the-mushroom-faerie]

hi! I'm here to talk about Rodney McKay and how his tendency to catastrophicize is actually an attempt to self soothe

I'm going to be using the episode No Man's Land as an example because I'm literally rewatching that episode now so it's fresh in my memory lol

people (fandom and in-show) tend to treat Rodney as a whiney coward when he starts his "death talk" but actually I think that's self soothing to him. a way to control an uncontrollable situation.

when he's stuck in that wraith cocoon THE ONLY THING HE CAN CONTROL IS PLANNING FOR EVERY SCENARIO he is on a wraith ship in a claustrophobic cocoon knowing full well that they are headed straight to earth. the only thing he can control is knowing all the ways this could end, whether that's being fed on by the wraith or dying instantly in an explosion or being burned in a fire or suffocating, either way he knows its going to happen and he is prepared. did it drive Ronan batshit? yes. was it his only available option to self soothe? also yes

[vague-homosexual-crimes]

It’s like when Adam said “I’m your hands and your eyes. What do you think I’ll see if he dies?” And also when Ronan said “No. Do you hear me, Cabeswater? You promised to keep me safe. Who are we to you? Nothing? If you let him die, that is not keeping me safe. Do you understand? If they die, I die, too.”

They just. It’s like. They’re such similar statements and functionally show the same love for their friend but mean such different things from Adam to Ronan. It’s like. There’s kind of two ways to take what Adam’s saying. The first is like. Gansey’s death would be so upsetting, so tragic, would hurt so much that he would be useless to Cabeswater. The second is more like. If you let Gansey die he’ll never help Cabeswater again, voluntarily. Like despite everything before he figuring out how to hear and help Cabeswater, he would refuse to help. Despite the things he saw and heard and felt and the genuine distress it put him through, if Cabeswater kills Gansey, he’ll endure that for presumably the rest of his life so long as he never helps the thing that killed his friend.

And then you have Ronan. Which is an entirely different statement with a similar sentiment but where Adam is saying I’ll suffer to spite you because you did this, Ronan is saying without Gansey I won’t be here. End sentence. He’s saying protecting me is keeping Gansey alive. That is the most important thing Cabeswater can do to protect Ronan. Is keep Gansey alive. And then there’s also sort of two ways to take this. The first being that without Gansey there to be Ronan’s self control because albeit, he has none on his own, his own bad choice, impulses, whatever, will kill him. Simple as that. The second one requires you to think back to pre-trb Ronan. The Ronan who lost more than half his family in one fell swoop. Who went from being the favorite of his father, from having a loving, caring mother, two brothers he (mostly) got along with to a dead dad, a mom he couldn’t ever see again, a brother who he no longer gets on with and is now his guardian, and a baby brother he dreamt. Pre-trb Ronan already went through so much emotional turmoil and grief and self-hatred that he barely made it out alive. He hated himself so much that his dreams tried to kill him frequently, and almost did, multiple times. The second way to take Ronan’s statement is, if Gansey dies, Ronan can’t take that grief. It’s saying that if Gansey dies, the grief will be all consuming, and he won’t make it back from that.

[clotpolesonly]

OCD Declan Lynch is anybody with me on this

[braveclementine]

October 22: Sex Pollen (Loki Laufeyson)❤️

Warnings: could be seen as non-con, royalty kink, induced sex

Copyright: I do not own Loki (please kidnap me Loki) or any other Marvel/MCU characters. I also do not condone any copying of this.

"What exactly is it?" You asked Bruce as he showed you a new, interesting specimen that had been found in space and brought back to Earth.

It was a beautiful flower of sorts, bright pink with white teardrops on the petals. The stem was green and a little purple where the stem curled up to the petals.

"I'm not sure yet." Bruce said, moving away from the table to go and sit behind his computer. "I do know that it is from the planet Kuth." He said, showing you a picture of an Earth-like planet with a turquoise sky and a field of these flowers that had signs around them, as though warding people to be careful of the flower patch. "Could be dangerous, might not be. Perhaps Loki or Thor or one of the Guardians will know. Loki's coming. . . when?"

"This Saturday." You said happily, missing your best friend and crush- though no one actually knew about the latter part.

"Excited to see him again?" Bruce asked skeptically.

"I know, I know, he's a terrible Midgardian killing God, but we're friends and that's behind him now." You said. "Plus, he was being slightly controlled by Ronan and Thanos, just like Bucky was controlled by HYDRA and you all like Bucky."

"Fair." Bruce relented. "But not everyone sees it like that either."

"And some people still think Bucky ought to be given the Death Penalty." You pointed out.

"Fair again." Bruce admitted. "Anyways, make sure that you keep away from this until I can figure out what it is. If its' poisonous, we wouldn't want a disease to break out over the city."

"Will do boss." You said cheekily and then made your way out of the room.

You couldn't wait to show Loki!

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

"It's a flower?" Loki asked skeptically.

The two of you were standing on the balcony, overlooking the pool. The other Avengers were stripped down to swim trunks and two-piece bathing suits, enjoying the nice day. Steve and Fury were barbequing on the grill with some help from Sam, while the girls were sunbathing on the law chairs.

Tony, Stephen, and Bruce were deep in conversation about something, a handful of beers on the table in front of them.

Thor was sitting in the pool, Parker and some of his friends from school in there too.

Bucky meanwhile was playing cornhole with Clint, Rhodey, and T'Challa.

"A beautiful flower." You clarified. You and Loki were pretty much alone on the balcony. Loki was wearing his normal Asgardian wear as he hadn't felt like wearing anything from Midgard, and you were wearing denim shorts and a shirt that you had tied off above the belly button.

"It's still a flower." Loki deadpanned, placing his hands on the railing, "What is this gathering they are doing?"

"It's called a pool party Lokes." You sighed, "C'mon, I want to show it to you."

Loki sighed, looking over at you. "Don't you want to join in on this pool party instead?"

You felt frustrated. You knew your crush was one-sided (as they always were), but you thought that Loki at least liked you as a friend. Or at least, you seemed to be the only one he tolerated. But friends shared things with each other all the time, right?

"No, I want to show you the flower which I'm not really supposed to show you because Bruce doesn't know what it is yet." You sighed, pushing away from the banister, "But it's okay. I realize guys don't really like those sorts of things. It's kind've hot, I'm gonna go inside."

Loki started for a moment, staring after you. He hoped he hadn't offended you, but flowers- well you even seemed to know they weren't something he'd want to see. But shit, it wasn't about him, it was about you.

"Wait!" He called, hurrying to catch the door, coming back into the building.

You were half tempted not to stop, but you did anyways, turning to look at him.

"I do want to see the flower, but I just didn't know if there was something else you'd rather do. The party looked like something you would've enjoyed." Loki explained.

Why the hell did he have to look so sexy? You wished you could see him in his pool garb. Black or green or gold swim trunks. No shirt. You imagined that he had a fit body underneath the layers of Asgardian leather. You could imagine black aviator shades on his face, his hair possibly pulled back into a ponytail.

You quickly shook your head to clear your thoughts and said, "Well, I knew you wouldn't enjoy the party. You don't really like them. Anyways, the flower is this way."

Immediately, he was caught off guard of your awareness for his likes and dislikes. Sure, he knew all of yours, perhaps even knowing more about you, than you did. But the fact that you were just as aware as him was strange.

Different.

Almost likable.

You led him down the hallway, taking the elevator to the bottom floor. You slipped into Bruce's lab, the door shutting behind the two of you. You led him over to the case display where he'd set up the flower under examination.

"It is quite unique." Loki admitted after looking at the flower for a moment. In reality, he was looking at you out of the corner of his eye. You were a strange mortal, no doubt, perhaps as unique as this flower in the right place. After all, this flower didn't stick out in its home, but it did on Earth. And he supposed each human was unique in their own way. You were just more special.

"I hope its not harmful." You said wistfully. "I want to know what it smells like."

Loki suddenly plucked the glass case off of the flower and you stared at him in shock, "What if it's poisonous! Loki put it back!"

"Calm down Y/N. A measly flower cannot kill me." Loki smiled, before lowering his nose down to smell the flower. After inhaling the scent, he pulled back. "Perhaps it is just me, but there seems to be a very strange smell coming from the flower. It's almost like. . . honey and almonds but that can't quite be right, can it?"

You bent down to smell the flower next. After all, it didn't seem to have affected Loki so it was probably safe.

Well that was strange because you didn't smell any of the things that Loki had smelt. Instead, you seemed to have smelt expensive leather, expensive cologne, and vanilla. Actually. . . it smelt a lot like Loki.

You laughed, "Kind've reminds me of Amortentia."

"What in the world is that?" Loki asked.

"It was a love potion in Harry Potter. Smells like the person that you are in love with so each person thinks the flower smells like something else." You explained.

Loki's cheeks flushed pink. "Ah I-"

But whatever he was going to say didn't matter, as two small pink hearts actually popped out of the flower. They were extremely small, small enough to fit on your pinky fingernail. They weren't filled in, but seemed rather a stencil. They floated upwards and you felt one land on the tip of your nose and looked to Loki in time to see the other hit him on the nose and then sink in.

"Are we dead?" You asked with fright.

Once again, he didn't get to answer because your lips were pressed together, your arms around each others necks. The kiss was messy and erotic, a clashing of lips, tongue, and teeth. It was like you were trying to devour each other, and neither of you were able to get any closer.

"This needs to come off." Loki growled, ripping the shirt from your body and you had no room to protest as you were feverishly stripping him of his Asgardian uniform, cursing the amount of layers he was wearing.

Loki attached his lips to your neck as you kicked off your own skirt, leaving you bare in front of him. Most of his clothes were off, though he wouldn't let you go to take his pants off. Those he shucked off himself.

It was like a very chaotic dream as the two of you seemed to almost wrestle with each other, over to one of the desks in the middle of the room. Loki swept everything off of the desk, making glass shatter, pens scatter, and papers drift out across the room.

Loki seemed to suddenly slam you down on the table, before plunging into you in a feral way. Your back arched off the table at the sudden intrusion, but you found that it had been a very easy entrance, as there was almost no pain.

"Fuck." You moaned, "Loki, faster."

"It's your highness to you." Loki growled again.

"Your highness!" You nearly screamed.

Everything seemed heightened, yet fuzzy. Like you couldn't even believe that your orgasm was already fast approaching and he'd barely been inside of your for a minute. Nor was he overstimulating you in any way that would make an orgasm approach so fast.

Your fingers dug into his forearms, spurring him on to move even faster inside of you, hips snapping against yours. You might've sworn that his balls were hitting you so hard in the ass that you'd have bruises tomorrow. His hands were definitely going to leave bruises all over your body from how tightly he was holding.

It was fuzzy though, like your brain wasn't really working. A small part in the back of your mind was telling you that this was bad, that this was wrong. It was going to ruin your friendship with Loki after all. How were the two of you going to recover after this? You were going to lose one of your best friends because of a stupid flower!

But that part was clear and the rest was fuzzy and you couldn't really focus on it with so much chaos going on around you. You were mostly feeling euphoric, barely even thinking about anything at all as your orgasm hit you like the impact of the bottom of a cliff.

You weren't sure how long you went or how many rounds or even how many orgasms. You know that you went from your back on the desk, to riding him on the floor, to being fucked into a chair, and then back to the floor.

It was like a dream and then the two of you seemed to slow down, things seemed to become clearer. The lights seemed less harsh and you realized that though the room was freezing cold, you were both covered in sweat.

You collapsed against Loki's chest and his arms drew you into him.

"Shit." He muttered. "I wasn't expecting that."

You were silent, heart pounding. You had had a crush on him for the longest time. You had wanted this for the longest time- but not like this. It was supposed to be mutual. It was supposed to be remarkable, rememberable.

You sat up slowly, searching for your clothes when Steve, Bruce, and Tony came walking in. Steve backpedaled so quickly upon seeing the two of you buck naked that he slammed his head into the doorframe, denting it rather effectively.

Bruce turned a nice shade of pink, covering his face with his hand.

Tony meanwhile, turned red and pointed to the stuff on the floor. "What did you do?!"

"I think that's very obvious Tony." Steve muttered, leaning his forehead on the wall so he didn't have to look at the two of you.

Loki seemed unconcerned, snapping his fingers so that clothes appeared on him again. Or maybe it was just an illusion, but either way you wished he could've done it for you.

You wrapped one of the office blankets around you and then you said, "Well, Bruce, we found out what your flower does."

[oddsconvert]

I know we've only had this in one drabble (so far 😈) but I am OBSESSED with broken Izaak

Thank you so much anon!!!! Have some more!! 😘 I hope this suffices!!! 🫶

---

Izaak can feel himself slipping away, like grains of sand sifting through his shaking, bony fingers. Soon there’ll be nothing left of him. Not even the hollow shell of a man that once was. The way Ronan describes it is almost like metamorphosis. Rebirth. Izaak will grow and transform into something beautiful; like a tadpole into a frog or a caterpillar into a butterfly.

This is devolution. A man reduced to a mutt. From standing tall on two legs, to shoved crawling on all fours. Stripped of his voice, his bite and his bark. Izaak won’t be human anymore, he’ll be a tamed and pathetic beast. How the mighty fall.

Click click.

Izaak’s ears twitch and his head instantly snaps up at the click of Ronan’s fingers. He swallows hard, gulping back nerves lodging in his throat. He pulls himself onto weak, unsteady knees, letting his hands rest limply in his lap. He patiently awaits his order, like a good pet. He is a good pet. Good things come to good pets…like Henley. Ever so spoiled. Izaak wants to be spoiled rotten too.

Ronan hums his satisfaction with a grin that makes Izaak's stomach twist and pinch, as he leans back into his chair, spreading his legs a tad wider and patting the space between his thighs.

"Come here, my boy," Ronan calls with a whistle.

Shame swells in Izaak's heaving chest, he finds himself automatically and hurriedly scampering across the room to Ronan's feet. He folds over and nuzzles against Ronan's legs, before perching between them and resting his head gently against his master. Just how Ronan likes it. Izaak can virtually see the brownie points tallying up.

"You've been such a good little pet for me, haven't you?" Ronan coos, raking his fingers through Izaak's overgrown, ratty hair. But it does feel good. Izaak's eyes loll back at the sensation, he melts into the touch. He'd choose this over the endless pain anyday. Izaak was a thick-headed fool to fight back in the first place.

"Yes, master…" Izaak croaks, though the voice that comes out doesn't sound like him. He doesn't recognise himself anymore. Maybe it's easier that way. He can't mourn the life and person he lost if he can't remember it.

"And you're happy now. Now you understand your lot in life. Aren't you?"

"S-so happy, master."

"Hmm," Ronan narrows his eyes, deep in thought. He looks…unconvinced. Dissatisfied. Izaak feels a pang of disappointment rip right through him like a bullet. He has to keep Ronan sweet, he can't rock the boat.

Ronan pinches Izaak's chin between his thumb and forefinger, lifting his head up until their eyes are locked. Izaak tries not to shrink back when his saucer-wide eyes are staring into piercing green.

"I want you to beg me."

"S-Sir?" Izaak gasps, astonished. He feels the air get whisked from his lungs.

"Beg for me to hurt you, pet."

"I-I don't understand. I've…I've been good-"

Izaak can't keep the wobble of threatening tears from his voice, or stop them glazing over his bloodshot eyes. He nervously picks at the already bitten and shredded nails on his fingers, trying to ground himself. It's taken everything in him to submit, to play the part of an animal. If this isn't enough- if Izaak isn't enough -

"You have. Oh believe me, you've been a delight, Izzy. I wouldn't change you for the world," Ronan reassures, batting his eyelashes. Ronan kisses his hand and holds it against Izaak's temple as his eyes flutter shut. He imagines the kiss seeping through his skull and wrapping around his brain, keeping him under control.

"But good gets boring. I should keep up your training. Stop you slipping into old habits."

A tear slips free, and Izaak shakes his head against Ronan's hand. He dares to pull away, so he can collapse at Ronan's feet again and beg for mercy. He shrinks into a ball, sobbing and mumbling incoherently to himself.

No more pain. No more suffering. He was told if he gave in, he'd never hurt again. He made a deal with the devil.

"Please-" Izaak rasps, still bent double on the ground. Praying to Ronan as if he's a deity.

"Please what?" Ronan purrs, kicking his feet up to use Izaak's curled body as a footrest. First an animal, now an object. Furniture.

"...Hurt me," Izaak resigns with a whisper.

"Good boy."

----

Izaak tag list: @emmettnet @kira-the-whump-enthusiast @sorrowful-hyacinth

Drabble taglist: @whatwasmyprevioususername  @whumpsday  @sparrowsage  @whumperfully  @wolves-and-winters @canislycaon24 @happy-little-sadist @darkthingshappen @whumping-in-the-dark

[robobee]

henry cheng as a literal narrative tool who both changes the narrative and controls it. it’s like. dreamer trilogy would not be possible if henry wasn’t there (i.e, gansey would be there). trk would not have ended the way it did if henry wasnt there. declan would’ve been different with ronan if he didn’t have a glaring linked threat to the fairy market at the SCHOOL they Both Went To And His Brother Lived In. literally maybe... niall lynch would even be a different person if henry hadnt been there (and he hadnt unwittingly caused a child to go through that trauma).  the fact that henry has so much implied+confirmed history with this world, the fact that he’s clearly genre-aware (detriment? cost?), the fact that he knows his role and plays it... and YET never gets the position of Proper Character in the world he is so explicitly a product of. his punishment for knowing the script is to be written out of it.

[nibblette]

And here is my top 10 TRC fics Part 2

6. There’s no place like my room.

This is a heartstring tugger. This takes place after the events of Greywaren but before the epilogue. Ronan has terrible dreams of an elderly and dying Adam and brings back Alzheimer’s disease drugs and medical equipment from his dreams. Adam is approached by the feds to join their new dreamer & dream protection. I love that Ronan has to go back to 300 Fox Way. Adam and Declan interact with each other. There’s a happy ending. Part of the ending is inspired by some Pynch fan-art from another artist.

7. In One Piece by creativefiend19

An apparently unfinished Fic but I thought it ended well enough. Another BDSM/kink fic, surprise, surprise. This one has great sex scenes that even have companion art works!

This is mostly Adam’s POV. Adam is still freaked out about the demon using him to choke Ronan. Ronan comforts him by sharing his kinky fantasies. Adam starts to wrap his mind around Ronan’s need for kink and subbing. There is a wealth of sex scenes. Adam thinks up a delightful Valentine’s Day gift for Ronan- sneaking into Aglionby’s Latin classroom to fulfill Ronan’s fantasy to have sex with Adam there. The story continues. The author makes good use of the canon “forsan er haec olim….” quote. Ronan is totally Ronan and makes a list of scenes he wants to do in Latin, lol. The fic goes on to flesh out the pre-Call Down the Hawk Pynch relationship exceedingly well. Highly recommend! The accompanying artwork by sneaky_git are fabulous as well!

8. Home to Me by Parakeats (the main story of the Time Travel AU) https://archiveofourown.org/series/1983088

This fic is so great but it’s unfinished 😭 I love it so much and I wish the author would finish it. Or at least give a synopsis of the ending. It’s an awesome story about a future, older AU Adam being sent back in time to the canon story because Cabeswater needs him. He lives in a slightly different dimension where he is married to Ronan, and his “sacrifice” was to the Greywaren himself, not Cabeswater (which is still in the future AU). Niall is still alive but sort of a villain. Younger, canon Adam is sent to the future AU with older long haired, in control of his power Ronan, but something is wrong with Matthew in this timeline.

This fic has an absolutely sexy and amazing AU of the AU companion smut Fic about younger Ronan coming on to older!Adam! older!Adam takes charge of the encounter and blows young!Ronan’s mind. Ooooo!

9. Another Lil_Redhead post Greywaren fic- ( though it’s an AU). This fic imagines a post-Greywaren-climax where Hennessy wasn’t able to grab all the little bits of Adam spirit from the sweetmetal sea and the lost part was Adam’s romantic love for Ronan. Adam goes back to Harvard quickly but Ronan is devastated. Ronan stays in Boston with Declan (and to be close-ish to Adam). Adam puts together the hints that he and Ronan were lovers, not just best friends. He finds his secret stash of Ronan porn on his phone and falls in lust and love again. This is another tear jerker but with a happy ending.

[ja9-animations]

OC TIME

These are the main characters in my oc story (excluding the antagonists)

Kandid is 18 and can control weather and elements. Because of his ability, he is highly respected and somewhat feared by people who don't know him. Kandid is a bit reckless and arrogant but very loyal to his friends and family. Kandid leaves his island to find out what happened to his mother, who was called to fight in a revolution 9 years but never came home.

Lyke is also 18. He has the ability to heal people's wounds. He and Kandid grew up together and are best friends. Hey, maybe they'll be more than just friends later on but for now Lyke is too shy to say anything. He is incredibly smart and caring to everyone. He takes care of his younger sister, Mayn, and is very protective over her. When his home and island is attacked by the kingdom, he escapes with Mayn and Kandid on a small boat Kandid planned to use to leave the island to search for his mother.

Mayn is 10 years old. She doesn't have any abilities unlike everyone else around her. As a baby she was found alone. People suspected her parents were killed in the revolution and therefore she was put up for adoption. Lyke's parents adopted her when she was 1 years old. Mayn doesn't talk much and always carries her frog plush with her. She loves and trusts Lyke and Kandid.

Kya is 20 and is a revolutionary leader. 9 years ago when the first revolution happened, the kingdom was ruled by Shapeshifter monarchs who abused their powers. The king and queen were killed but their heirs escaped. A few years passed and all of the other Shapeshifter heirs were found and killed. Kya, who grew up during this revolution, decided to help build the new kingdom. However, she realized the new rulers were as unjust as the Shapeshifters and decided to lead the second revolution. Kya can create thought into reality. For example she can create weapons out of thin air which she does a lot. Kya is strong, smart, and outgoing.

Ronan is also 20. He has the same ability as Kya but a different aspect of it. Like Kya, he helped build the new kingdom but also saw the corrupt ways of it. He was almost executed for his betrayal but Kya rescued him and some others. He joined Kyas revolutionary group and became her second in command. Ronan is very intimidating to everyone except Mayn, who likes hanging around him.

So basically

[squash1]

can we talk about the mask scene??? it is such a good metaphor for how ronan views his relationship with his friends i actually cannot stop thinking about it. ronan is dreaming about a mask that his father dreamt and used to hang in the barns but in the dream is hanging in adam’s apartment. (the significance of an object from the barns, ronan’s real home, in adam’s apartment, a place that is not home to ronan but is a temporary home to someone ronan loves deeply, should be noted).

adam comes and puts on the mask and in doing so turns into a dream-like monster/demon. the real adam tries to get the mask off but can’t so ronan tries to take it off and is easily successful — in this way ronan is separated from his other friends, he is more in control in the dreaming world, a king in his kingdom. once the mask is removed, adams face is gone — he is forever marked/changed/disfigured as a result of the mask. ronan says “i’ll put it back on,” because what else can he do?

this dream is one of ronan’s greatest fears. ronan has lived in a world since childhood that is shaped, often in a negative way, around dreaming. he is a thing broken, torn apart, by dreaming and has learned to live with that. now that his friends, and especially adam because of his connection to cabeswater, are becoming intertwined in the dreaming world, ronan is scared that they will be trapped or changed or hurt by the magic that ronan has already known about since childhood. that ultimately it will be ronan’s fault they are in the position to be hurt in the first place and his responsibility to try and put them back together. in ronan’s head being broken by dreaming is a burden only he should have to bear — it is his inheritance from his father — and the idea of adam or any of his friends experiencing what he has by being exposed to the dreaming world is unbearable to him.