#this is how he flirts btw

[bosspigeon]

i left a little something on the table for you

Saints and Sinners isn’t the only club in Vapolis, but most of them have the same or similar protocols, to varying degrees of diligence. Still, everyone should know the game by now, no matter where they go. It’s all the same general gist: check your ID, check you for weapons, get the cover charge, then send you in to get wasted and be stupid without the threat of a disembowelment on the dance floor.

Most people don’t want the trouble. They just obey the rules and leave their weapons at home or in their car, though plenty of others do try to conceal a piece regardless, and either let the bouncers confiscate it to give back when they leave, or kick up a fuss and get thrown right back out the door. If they do manage to slip under the radar, most people have the sense to keep quiet about it.

Coyote Knox isn’t most people.

The merc’s clothes are almost always pretty shredded, and Jax knows him well enough by now to know that, while he does wear them like the damage is all intentional, most of it isn’t. It means he’s rarely fully clothed, which makes it pretty easy to pat him down and send him on his way, with several shiny new knives for the trouble.

Well, some of them are new, anyway.

Some of them still have blood on them.

This time, it wasn’t Jax at the door. It should be his night off, and while he usually has better things to do with his free time than hang around the place, Orla wanted him to pop in for a brief consult for some job coming down the line.

He goes to the bar for a quick drink before he heads out, the crowd parting around him like water the second they see who he is, flags down a bartender, and waits.

And then he hears that loud fucking mouth.

“It’s not the size that matters, babe,” Knox is saying, his voice a rough purr. He never smells like tobacco, and Jax has never seen him smoke, so he’s not sure where that rasp could come from, but it’s there regardless, like vodka and broken glass. “It’s what you do with it.”

“Uh-huh,” the bartender laughs indulgently. Jax can’t remember their name, but clearly they know Knox well enough to be comfortable with him. Speaks to their mental state, he supposes. “I still think you’re compensating for something.”

He knows he’s going to regret it, but Jax turns his head to the left, and it’s easy enough to see Orla’s rabid pet merc even through the crush of people vying for the attention of the bartenders darting about like bright dragonflies in neon and mesh.

He’s sitting on the bar with his heavy boot propped up on a vacant stool that several people are eyeing with furious envy, but none are brave enough to try for, considering the little bastard is twirling around a bowie knife like a fucking baton.

“Compensating for what, doll?” the masked merc chuckles, leaning back on his elbow. He’s practically lying across the bar, head tilted back, choppy hair hanging down as he smiles winsomely at the orange-haired bartender who twists nimbly around him to top off glasses and gather orders like they’re used to his bullshit. “I know what I’ve got and how to use it, I just feel like it never hurts to have plenty of options at my disposal.”

“Let a bouncer catch you waving that thing around, and I’m sure Orla will remove a few of your options for you.” The bartender clears some empty glasses from the bar and drops them by a nearby sink, taking a clean shaker to begin mixing cocktails.

Jax is off the clock. It’s none of his goddamned business. He drums his fingers against the sticky bartop and immediately regrets it, scowling and wiping his hand on his jeans. They’re expensive, but at least they’re dark. He can have them cleaned later.

“Oh, don’t worry about me,” Knox croons, sitting up and raking back his hair. Someone leaves their drink alone for a second, and he snatches it up and knocks half of it back in one go. Disgusting. “I know when to test my luck. I nicked the bouncer rotation from her office last time I was in. Jaxxie’s not on duty tonight, so I’m in the clear. The other muscleheads know not to fuck with me if they’d like to keep their own options intact.”

It’s a good thing Jax hasn’t gotten his drink yet, because he’s pretty sure he’d slam it down on the bar and shatter the glass.

“I’ll have to have a talk with them, then,” he snarls, loud enough to be heard over the noise, and to make the people around him clear the hell out.

The bartender yelps and nearly drops the shaker.

Knox just groans. “Speak of the devil.”

Jax pushes off the bar and stalks through the crowd, and saints and sinners alike practically throw themselves out of his path. Knox doesn’t move from his graceless sprawl across the bar, though he does sit up a bit to watch. His bright yellow eyes track the bouncer’s every move, his pierced lips kicking into a smirk.

The bartender, predictably, makes themself scarce.

“You must be stupider than you look,” Jax says, crossing his arms across his chest.

Yellow eyes flicker down to the open vee of Jax’s silk shirt, and that lazy smirk spreads wider. “Mama always told me smarts weren’t the way to catch a husband anyhow,” he drawls. He taps the tip of the blade against his temple like he’s imparted some deep wisdom and takes a pointed sip of his stolen drink.

Jax curls his lip and doesn’t deign that with a reply. “Hand over the knife, and I won’t throw you into traffic and tell Orla she’ll have to pick up a new poorly-trained housepet from the pound.”

The merc’s quick, Jax will give him that. In the blink of an eye he twists the knife away and arches off the bar, slipping it into some hidden sheath behind his back. He also manages to do so while slurping down the last of his stolen drink, and sliding the empty glass down the bar for the original owner to find. He wipes his mouth with the back of one hand, before he raises them both and wiggles his fingers so the rings on them click together. “You must be mistaken, Sir,” he simpers, fluttering his eyelashes, “I don’t have any knife. I’m an upstanding citizen, and I would never disobey the rules of this fine establishment!”

A frisson of something shoots down Jax’s spine, but he chalks it up to anger, because that’s generally what overwhelms him when he has to see this smug little fuck’s face. He can’t be that useful to Orla, the way she bitches about him.

But he’s still around being a thorn in Jax’s side, so he must be good for something.

It shouldn’t be his problem. He’s off the clock. But he knows Orla would find some way to blame him if Knox got out of hand while Jax was around to stop it. So he grabs the merc by one stout shoulder and starts carting him towards the doors.

Knox, to his credit, doesn’t struggle. What he does might be even more annoying, cackling like a madman and blowing a kiss up at Jax. “Baby, at least buy me dinner first!” he crows as they carve through the crowd, stumbling a bit to compensate for Jax’s much longer stride.

The two bouncers on duty leap out of the way when Jax shoves him through the doors, and the look he gives them both has them cringing away. They must be some of the new hires Orla mentioned. “We’re going to have a talk later,” he promises grimly.

“Oh, don’t be too hard on them, Jaxxie,” Knox coos. His mask is slipping off, and he fumbles to peel it away and toss it to the ground while being dragged along by the arm, “they don’t know any better.” He laughs again, grating and sharp, and he keeps laughing until Jax hauls him out the door and lets him go so suddenly he goes staggering into the hood of someone’s car. Thankfully, the car doesn't seem to have an alarm. Knox raps his knuckles against the dented hood and raises his eyebrows, apparently making the same observation. “Noted,” he says wickedly.

“Next time, I won’t be so gentle,” Jax snarls, the back of his neck still prickling at the nickname.

Coyote flicks his tongue out, wiggling the split prongs, the silver ball embedded in it catching the dull light of the dirty street lamp overhead. “Ooooh, do you promise?”

As far as Jax is concerned, the problem is handled. He gives the merc one last withering look, eyes narrowed and lip curled, before he stalks away to find his own car and get the hell out of dodge before he’s roped into more nonsense. Knox’s raspy cackle follows him the whole way.

He’s halfway home when a sudden, niggling suspicion tickles at the back of his mind. He waits until he’s at a red light to pat down his waist, which feels notably lighter than it should.

“Motherfucker!” he snaps when he realizes his gun isn’t there. He’s not the type to lose things, especially not important things.

Orla warned him on day one the merc had sticky fingers, and he didn’t listen, thinking nobody would be stupid enough to try him.

A part of him, though, is sort of… grudgingly impressed. How’d the crazy little bastard manage to take it? When?

Jax drags a hand over his mouth and grumbles to himself. He’d shake the truth, and his damned gun, out of the merc next time he saw him, no matter what.

A rough voice that sounds suspiciously like Knox croons in the back of his mind.

Sounds like a date.

[swinging-stars-from-satellites]

obsessed with the dynamic between Scully and the Gunmen when Mulder isn't around, it's kinda just. she's somewhere between exasperated and laughing at them. it's the same and yet completely different than it is with Mulder. they are unified in their respect for her. she has to keep them out of trouble. they bumble around trying to help her. she ends up helping them instead. they all would die for her. she is aware of this and mildly endeared by it but also like "please don't". it's so chaotic. Scully also would probably die for the three of them. she solely talks to Byers 90% of the time bc he's got the one and only braincell.

[drop-dead-dino]

Happy Madness Day ☺️🖤!

[judasisgayriot]

(when Angela decided to falsely convince Sylar that he was a Petrelli too literally just for the drama idk) (Bonus:)

[harumi-love-club]

i will never stop thinking about the ninja doing like. PDA or really any act of love ever and lloyd in the background just looking like

[sandersgrey]

Livy: so, are you gonna pursue Kit?

Ty: already did

Livy: wait, really??

Ty: yeah, on foot. I sat on him until he agreed to be my Watson :)

[maedesculpaeusoubi]

i just had a fanfiction moment with a drummer and it wasn’t danny

[chisatowo]

Headshots of the adult half of the main protags in this story

[and-stir-the-stars]

John Constantine and Dean Winchester are biscally the same person.

Just one is brit and the other is American.

Dean : he's a brit

John : well your a yank but I am not complaining

Gary and castiel : deeps sighs

Ohhh, throwback to the time when I tried convincing my friend who watched the first few seasons of spn to watch Constantine with me because "the main character looks like Castiel and acts like Dean!" You're literally so right, anon!

John and Dean absolutely would be constantly trying to one-up each other in the macho department-- or Dean would be, at least; John doesn't give a damn what some flannel-clad, scruffy american thinks of him. He just knows exactly what to say to rile Dean up and gets a good time out of it. Dean's actually the one putting way more effort into maintaining their rivalry, John sees Dean as more of a nuisance or inconvenience than anything else.

Meanwhile, you've got Gary and Cas who have to suffer through the show-off rivalry. Gary tries to organize team bonding activities to lessen the tension, but it doesn't quite work. They're both kinda like tired moms trying to keep their kids from hurting each other in the back seat of the car.

But Gary was really excited to be John's apprentice, so I think Gary would be ecstatic to learn supernatural lore from Cas and Sam, but especially angel lore from Cas because I'm being self-indulgent.

[a-o-rmin]

fuck tobias. he’s shit to women. not surprised from his intro “i’ve been in a lot of DMs …. i’ve never been in a relationship” REALLY WONDER WHY.

first he disrespects Kaz and now chloe 🙄 over it let’s vote him out already

[pinkandgreenarepurpleandyellow]

I absolutely love the way Gargoyles chose to portray Elisa and Tony’s dynamic. They could have easily gone the ‘romantic interest’ way (they didn’t and I love that), but then they took it one step further. These two repeatedly call each other by either a last name or a nickname, constantly go for double-edged jabs, and have the tension of a tightrope trying to hold up twelve elephants. And it is entirely unromantic, unshippable, un-pairing-esque.

It’s fucking brilliant. Literally anyone else and this would be the kind of thing Enemies to Lovers people dream of, but it’s just Elisa and Tony hating each others guts in such an overly dramatic way. They’re just two people on opposite sides, who occasionally are weirdly nice to each other for whatever their endgame reasons are, and I am here for it.

[cinnamon-grump]

Same! I do the head nod 'sup' gesture and people ignore me so often! What happened?!

It’s so weird!! but nice to know im not alone lol

The one thing I’ve noticed consistently is that the people who don’t ignore me or glare in response always do a downward nod instead.... i can’t help but wonder if I’ve been doing it wrong this whole time..?

Also searching for answers on google has lead me to believe it may, unfotunately, be somewhat of a case of... like, it’s failing to come across properly because lots of people seem to consider it a “dude thing” but not many people perceive me as anything but feminine.

Alternatively, apparently some people perceive the upward nod as a fuckin.. power move?? (Because exposed neck = confidence)

Like idk there’s so many different takes on it and also simultaneously NO information and im so frustrated lol fuc

[areyouawakexd]

[Ooc not at my HD acc rn but AUGUUEU!!! YES TJE CAVE ♡♡ SHIT U NOT IVE BEEN THINKING ABT UR WRITING SO MUCH 🥺🥺 I like reread some of it when I was on break lmaooo. Once I'm off work and replynto another thing I'll reply again but YAHHH !!!!!]

LMAO THANK YOU SO MUCH <3 if you want to we can discuss what you think abt the actual backstory and ill try to integrate it in! im trying so hard to come up w/ ideas rn to finish it lmao

[richgreenleaf-a]

dickie scoffs and edges closer with a playful grin that seems to light his entire face.    “    why,    that’s precisely the issue here,    rose.    i’d quite obviously prefer to be here with you,    but somehow i don’t think you believe that.    ”    and,    jokingly:    “    they’re all out of the good cigars,    anyhow.    ”

@seacret​    ,    continued from here. 

[catto-ohno]

Mazhe gets up in the morning before arthur and depending on what happened the night before they'll either give arthur a plushie to cuddle with while they go make breakfast or they'll snuggle close to him as if they weren't already close enough and they'll admire his face and recall the noticeable differences since last time they've done it. And they'll kiss all of them gently.

@grapeautumn

@neon-spirals

[bisidneycarter]

what if sid doesn’t actually realise he’s bi hmm