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thetriumphantpanda · 4 months

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LOST IN OUR VICES | ONE

Chapter Summary | A chance encounter with a handsome stranger sets off a chain of events that could all end in disaster. It's hard to say no when it feels so good though.

Pairing | Professor!Marcus Pike x Student F!Reader

Chapter Warnings | Dubious ethical relationship between a professor & student, Marcus tells a lie, mentions of food and alcohol, mentions of academia, academic failure and strained parental relationships, gratuitous descriptions of London because I live here and I love it, some heavy making out and some heavy petting, no use of y/n.

Authors Note | WELL HERE SHE IS. I have no idea how to tell you how much I am loving this so far. Professor Pike has well and truly rotted my brain so y'all have to suffer with me okay? It's gonna be fun, I promise. I would LOVE to know what you all think about this so feel free to scream at me incumbents, reblogs and asks! As always, a huge thank you to @undercoverpena for reading this over and making sure it isn't utter tripe. ILY. And to @saradika for the beautiful divider.

Please follow @thetriumphantpandanotifs for writing updates.

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He’s seen her there every day he’s visited the past month. Sitting on the bench, looking up at the same sculpture - a woman carved from marble - sketching into a notepad. He stands this time and watches as her finger tucks some hair behind her ear, brushing it out of her face. She looks up and tilts her head a little, eraser end of her pencil sitting between her teeth as she thinks, tracers a portion of the statue before her head is back down, looking at the page as she continues to draw.

She’s beautiful, there’s no denying it, she’s been beautiful every time he’s seen her. There’s something lonely about her too, the way she sits there on her own, artefacts and artworks for company. She’s just like him really, uprooted from a life he was no longer satisfied with, four years of a PhD and now the letters of Dr before his name. Moved to London, a new city, a fresh start as he’d coined it to his family, but he’s been here three years now, and not one thing that he wanted from his move have materialised. He knows the therapy was good for him, he knows that his haste to find someone was probably what was making him scare people off, but he doesn’t much like the other side of the coin either - a modest flat in London to himself, a small group of friends who sit around and drink beer and droll on about their academic passions, but no-one he can really call his own right now.

Dr. M Pike. Professor of Art History. That’s what his doorplate says, one of many in the small corridor at UCL. Three years and he’s still not quite sure how he made it here, or if it’s really what he wants, but it beats whatever he was doing back in D.C. that’s for sure. It had seemed like the best thing to do at the time, but when Lisbon had told him she wasn’t coming, everything about it seemed wrong, soiled somehow, by the life he’d built in his mind being torn up by someone who, looking back, had never really wanted him in the first place.

He thought about talking to her the first day he’d seen her, but then realised he was actually here to prepare for one of his teaching seminars, so squirrelled himself away to another room instead. The second time he’d seen her, she’d looked too engrossed on whatever she was working on, and then every other time, he’s convinced himself she’s here for peace, not to be bothered by some random man. But there’s something about the way she is today that makes the pull harder to resist, so he says fuck it, shoves his hands into his trouser pockets and walks over.

“You come here often?”

It’s an American accent that pulls you from your work. His voice jolts your hand, makes you press your pencil into paper too hard and at the wrong angle. You suck in a deep breath, try not to think about the hours of work he’s just ruined by startling you. You’re about to turn around and complain when he comes into your vision.

He’s tall, broad shoulders covered in a light dress shirt, two buttons undone so you can see a flash of tanned skin and a smattering of hair. It’s tucked into dark jeans, a belt keeping them tight to his trim waist. And then there’s his face - a beard, but only just and friendly brown eyes, a full mouth too. He’s handsome, there’s no way around it.

“Sorry, that was awful,” The mystery man scratches the back of his neck, “I just come here a lot and I think I’ve seen you here every time for the past month.”

You smile at that, that you’re someone he’s been picking out amongst the crowd of tourists who always come here, someone familiar to him, even if he’s not the same to you.

“I’m just working on something.” You shrug, letting your palm slyly cover the sketch you’ve been making.

The man walks in front of you slightly, takes a seat on the vacant spot on the bench and looks up at the woman carved from marble, “She’s beautiful.” He muses.

“She is.” You agree, looking over the curves of her hips, the way the marble has been carved to make it look like her clothes are wet, sticking to her breasts like she’s just climbed out of the Aegean Sea.

“You like sculpture then?”

“I do,” You nod, turning your body a little towards him, “It’s not my first artistic passion, but I’m studying for my PhD at the moment and it’s all about the female form in marble.”

“Brains as well as beauty,” He smirks a little at you, “Sounds interest though, where are you studying?”

“UCL,” You beam, because you’re proud, it wasn’t easy, you’d been rejected for your first choice research project the first time around, encouraged to choose something else from the feedback, but you were there now, and that’s what mattered, “What about you?” You ask, “What do you do that means you have to be here as much as me?”

He shrugs a little, “I teach.”

It’s vague but you don’t press, he owes you nothing, so you let it lie. You turn back to the sculpture in front of you, when your stomach grumbles. You look down at your watch. It’s 2pm and you’ve not eaten anything yet.

“Hungry?”

“Starving.” You reply meekly.

“Want to grab something to eat?” He asks, “I know a great Italian place in Soho if you fancy it?”

You look at him, eyes tightening a little. It’s been so long since anyone has shown you an ounce of interest, and now the beautiful man in a shirt and dress pants wants to take you for lunch, it all seems a bit too good to be true. But, you can hear the voice of your therapist tell you to say yes to more things, take more risks in life because not all of them are going to turn out to be bad, so you flip the front of your notepad over to cover your drawing and reach down to pick up your backpack.

“Lead the way.”

He doesn’t disappoint. Over the course of a glass of wine and a bowl of olives, you coax out his name. It’s Marcus. He’s got a PhD in Art History and moved to London from D.C. three years ago. He lives alone, near Notting Hill, he likes it because he can go searching for antiques on the weekend. He wants a dog, but he spends too much time out of the house to justify one. He likes to read and he can cook, but prefer eating out or ordering in because he’s not mastered the art of cooking for one.

When a waiter sets down your second glass of wine and your food - gnocchi with pesto and bacon for you and carbonara from Marcus, he turns the conversation back to you, sipping wine as he ask you where you live - Willesden Green, so not far from you - who you live with - myself, my dad was so proud I got into my course he pays for my rent, it’s the only way he can show he loves me - what you like to do with your free time - free time? When I have it, I read, or I walk, or I sit and draw sculptures in museums.

You don’t know whether it’s the wine or not, but the dark winter sinks in, outside cloaked in black, lights dimmed inside, and it makes him even more handsome than he was before. He makes you laugh, with his stories of his own PhD stress, how he would walk the streets of D.C. at 3am to get coffee and pancakes on his way back from the library and then collapse into bed and sleep for two hours until his alarm would wake him up and he would go all the way back to the library to do it again.

“If I ever get to that point,” You muse, stabbing a piece of gnocchi onto your fork, “I don’t think I’ll have the will to make it through.”

“You seem far too organised to me to fall into the bad habits I had.” He shrugs, looking at you over his own glass of wine as you take a bite of your food, too busy watching him to really notice the angle of your fork, green sauce smearing on the corner of your mouth as you fight it into your mouth.

Before you have a chance to reach down and grab the napkin from your lap, Marcus is reaching over the table, using the pad of his thumb to wipe the stray sauce away. It’s something that under any other circumstance would make you feel uncomfortable, but all it really makes you want to do is kiss him, especially when he apologises profusely for being so forward.

He pays for dinner, insists on it really, hidden behind the excuse that he knows how hard it is to live whilst studying. He takes you for cocktails at a bar on the end of Old Compton Street - orders himself an old fashioned whilst you opt for an amaretto sour. The bar is dark and busy, the only seats are in a corner, sat so close together your knees are touching and your shoulder is slightly leaned into his side.

“So, you said you got rejected from your first choice course?” He muses, taking a short sip of his drink.

You shrug with a nod, “I wanted to research the impressionist movement,” You start to explain, “I love Monet and Renoir but I think my research application was too broad,” Sipping your own drink you carry on talking, “There’s a great academic at UCL, Professor Pike, I was desperate to have him as my supervisor, but it wasn’t meant to be.”

You turn your head a little, watching as Marcus swallows on nothing, quickly taking another sip of his drink.

“It’s okay,” You hasten to add, “I guess if I’m not writing thousands of words about it, it won’t make me hate what I love most.”

“Smart,” Is what he says with a smirk, “You would have given him a run for his money anyway.”

“Do you know him?” You ask, “I know all of you academic types are familiar with each other.”

He swallows on nothing again, “I’ve heard of him but I don’t think we’ve ever met.”

You both order another drink, sit around talking about nothing much at all, slowly moving closer as the bar gets busier, you tell yourself it’s just so you can hear him better, but he smells good, some kind of musky cologne that suits him really well, so you don’t complain about soaking it up.

When it gets late, he offers to take you home, keep you company on the tube. You know it’s not really necessary, you’ve never felt particularly unsafe walking home from the station, but if it means spending more time with him, then you don’t really mind. He lets you take the only free seat on the tube, standing in the aisle just in front of your knees so he can keep talking to you, and when you reach the other side, he walks close to you, puts a hand on your lower back which you can feel through your jacket when a group of people walk past you a little too close. He even insists on walking you to your door.

It’s quiet in the building, like it usually is. It’s only recently been built and you think you’re one of only a few people who are currently living there. You pluck your keys from your coat pocket when you reach your door, leaning your back against it.

“This is me.”

“Nice place.”

“Yeah, although I usually prefer places with more character.”

He’s stood right in front of you, rocking on his heels, that same nervous hand on the back of his neck as this afternoon, “I know this might seem weird, but would you like to go on a date sometime?”

You can help but snort a laugh, shaking your head a little, before you meet his eyes, “This wasn’t a date?” You ask coyly.

He smirks a little, cheeks flushing a little, “Did you want it to be a date?”

“I wouldn’t have let you take me for lunch if I didn’t,” You say, “But there is one thing missing.”

“Oh yeah?” He hums, “What’s that?”

Instead of speaking, you take a step forward, hands gripping the lapels of his jacket as you press up onto your toes and plant your lips on his. It’s clumsy and it’s impulsive, but you’ve wanted to do it all day. You can feel his arms wrapping around your back, dragging your body flush to his as he opens his mouth against yours right as you do the same. He tastes like mint from the gum he’s been chewing and the whisky from his drinks - it’s all you can think about as he walks you back, presses you against the door as his tongue meets with yours.

You’re thankful no-one is around. Your arms move from his jacket to wrap around the back of his neck, fingers tangling in the curls there as you tilt your head to one side, a slight smacking sound from your lips as the disconnect, only to come back together seconds later. He’s good at this, you think, as his hands drop from your back to rest in the pockets on the back of your jeans, palms warm through the material. You can feel him squeeze you there a little, and you’re so close to saying fuck it and inviting him in, because if his lips are this good against yours, you can’t imagine what they’d be like in other places.

Marcus is the one that pulls away from you, resting his forehead gently to yours. You’re both breathless and you’re itching to press your mouth back to his.

“I should go.” He breathes against your mouth, pressing his lips to your in a chaste kiss.

“Yeah,” You agree, “You should.”

He steps back, takes the warmth of his palms with him, but reaches in to his pocket and hands his phone to you, “Put your number in here and I’ll call you.”

So you do, press the eleven digits into his phone along with your name and then kiss him once more before he’s turning on his heel and walking away, leaving you with a dull ache between your thighs that you’re working on relieving within five minutes of getting inside. You’re fucked.

Marcus curses himself as he settles into the seat on the bus. It’s late enough that it’s not too busy, no-one sitting next to him as he leans his head back and runs his hand over his face. He already knows he’s fucked up. The words Professor Pike and rejected from my first choice spinning around in his brain as he watches parts of North London flash past the window on his ride home.

Why hadn’t he stopped it then? He knows the rules, knows that even though he doesn’t teach her, any kind of relationships with students, no matter how mature, are off limits. And how is he supposed to keep the facade up now? It’s only a matter of time before she puts two and two together and figures out who he really is.

You’re sweet and you’re smart and you’re fucking beautiful and the best kisser he thinks he’s ever met. You have so much in common with him that it actually hurts him a little and one stupid choice to keep lying to you and the fucking ethics policy are going to keep him from something he thinks would actually be fucking good for him.

He thinks for a second, pulling out his phone and looking at your contact card that he should probably just delete your number. It’s for the best for everyone. He could avoid the museum for a while, keep his head low on campus, he knows he can avoid you. But with his finger hovering over the delete confirmation, he finds he doesn’t have the strength to do it. Stuffs his phone back in his pocket and tries to will his mind to forget the way you’d gasped into his mouth when his hands had squeezed at the swell of your ass, or the way your lips had been soft against his when he’d kissed you.

Then, led in bed, frustrations sorted by his own hand, he picks up his phone and damns himself to hell with a single text.

How about a walk around the National Gallery and dinner this weekend?

#Marcus Pike x Reader #Marcus Pike x you #Marcus Pike x female reader #Marcus Pike x f!reader #Marcus Pike smut #Marcus Pike #marcus pike fanfiction #Marcus Pike fanfic #Marcus Pike fic #Pedro pascal #Marcus Pike Pedro Pascal #the mentalist #the mentalist fic #the mentalist fanfic #the mentalist fanfiction #Marcus Pike fluff #Marcus Pike au #pedro characters #pedrostories

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dizzycheetah96 · 2 months

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i’ve had this post in the drafts for like two months but with the release of poor things on hulu has come an uptick in really really bad poor things takes so here I am clocking in for the poor things discourse!!

while art is obviously subjective and can be interpreted like literally however you want blah blah blah etc. etc., I think a lot of the criticisms of poor things are pretty surface level and in the name of like performative anger and not genuine criticisms. will be addressing and commenting on the two biggest criticisms I’ve seen:

1. poor things portrays the born sexy yesterday trope

ultimately I think the film does enough to subvert the trope, and actually utilizes the trope as a vehicle to subvert it. what I think poor things is really doing is critiquing and commenting on how men seek out infantile and docile women as a means to exert control and assert their own self importance. these men then become disillusioned when said women gain intelligence, perspective, and experiences that don’t center them.

godwin, max, and duncan all sought to control bella in some way. they sexualize her, view her as an object, property, and an experiment. at the beginning of the movie, prior to bella leaving god’s house and exploring, we do get a bit of the traditional born sexy yesterday trope. but bella being who she is, she wanted more and she wanted to explore the world, grow, etc. this fundamentally changed the way these men interacted with her, and they were no longer infatuated by her innocence and curiosity, but saw her as threatening and something they needed to reign in and control.

first, when bella asks to leave the house and see the world, she is met with pushback from both godwin and max. when bella expresses her frustration, godwin fucking chloroforms her to get her to stop talking and fighting him. this pattern continues until bella leaves.

we saw this to an extreme with duncan. he noticed that bella was gaining intelligence and perspective, was threatened, and resorted to locking her in a trunk and literally fucking kidnapping her as an attempt to regain control. but after that, she continues to learn and grow. she meets new people who introduce her to philosophy and reading and intelligent conversation. this essentially brings duncan to his breaking point and he begins to mentally deteriorate.

2. all the sex was super gross bc bella developmentally had not yet reached the age of consent

people not grasping that bella having sex with all these men is SUPPOSED to make us uncomfortable is baffling. the depiction of this kind of relationship cannot be equated with endorsement. I actually think it was important that the audience know that at the beginning of the movie that bella had the brain of a child because it allows us to see how much duncan takes advantage of her. it also just further hammers home the critique of men preferring underdeveloped infantile women they can control, rather than independent intelligent women who challenge them.

I don’t necessarily have any problem with the movie depicting that bella enjoys having sex. discovering sexuality it is an ordinary part of adolescence (when she first starts masturbating I’m assuming she was like 12-14 developmentally) and ultimately what makes the lisbon scenes with her and duncan so uncomfortable is that we know that he knows he’s taking advantage of her. I do think it was intended to be uncomfortable for the audience to watch. she does not have the knowledge and understanding to know that the dynamic between her and duncan is very very bad, but she gets there eventually. I can’t fault her for in the moment not realizing what was happening to her.

but this is where my personal criticisms come in — once bella does learn how these men took advantage of her she does not fight back against them like I wanted her to. she isn’t outraged, she doesn’t tell them how violated she feels. duncan does get his comeuppance (which was hilariously played by mark ruffalo) but I think that max and godwin got off too easy. especially max who agreed to marry her when developmentally she was a child. I just don’t think she should have been so quick to forgive them.

I also just want to take a moment to discuss the common critique that “it’s so obvious this movie was made by a man like duh this is how men perceive what female empowerment is” etc. etc. this was actually addressed by emma stone in a conversation she had w olivia coleman — emma was a producer on the film and really feels like people are taking away her agency in deciding how to tell this story. she was an integral part in the production of the film, no one was demanding her to portray bella in a certain way, and ultimately what we see on screen is a product of her involvement in the filmmaking process. by reducing this to being a movie about how men perceive women you are completely removing and invalidating the women that actually had a say in how this story was told.

tldr; idk like obviously you can think whatever you want about it, but just don’t mistake depiction for endorsement and understand that sometimes the point of the movie is to make you feel uncomfortable. stories and narratives in fiction are complicated bc people are complicated!!!! we are messy and difficult and exploring certain topics in a fictionalized world allows us to better understand the world we live in. sanitizing ourselves of engaging with this kind of material will only hurt our ability to analyze and form opinions about contentious areas of life.

#poor things #*sigh* I am once again poor things posting #emma stone #yorgos lanthimos #poor things ily

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zwedexx · 3 months

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Hello how are you? Could you write something where the reader is a famous actress and Alexia or Frido loves the films she makes, and then one day (Alexia or Frido) gets all excited because she's going to meet the reader? :)

“Hey, film this. I swear, she’s been talking about it all day.”

Fridolina Rolfö x actress!reader

Summary: request

TW: none

WC: 1026

A/N: I finished writing this at 12:58 am so my mind is really not sharp so I apologize if its an actually piece of flaming shit. I also used this as an opportunity to kinda try out social media fics.

General POV

“Hey, film this. I swear, she’s been talking about all it day.” Lucy whispers to the social media admin.

“Frido, what’s the name of the film again.” Lucy shouts.

“Facts of Life.” She shouts back.

“Why Lucia, not this again.” Aitana whines from nearby.

“It is an excellent film, the cinematography, the plot, the acting. The lead actress is amazing, she had me captivated throughout the entire thing. I don’t understand why you are complaining.” Rölfo retorts.

“It’s not the movie we are complaining about, it’s you talking about it and the actress all day.” Aitana replies with an annoyed sound

“If you watched the film you’d understand.”

Instagram post

Liked by y/n l/n, and 25,674 others

fcbfemini frido has something to say

View all 109 comments

_fcb_fan982 did anyone else see that y/n liked the post

footballmyliife she commented too

y/n l/n could I entice you to come to my next premier in Lisbon. 🫣

loverolfo09 this might be might be my new Roman Empire.

barca1109 Creo que Frido está enamorada

dudethealpha shut up, no one cares

fcbperlavida Ella me ha convencido para ir a verlo.

General POV Lucy was buzzing with excitement as she scrolled through the comments of Barca’s recent post. It had garnered a relatively good amount of attention including yours. Lucy couldn’t believe her eyes when she saw that you had not only liked the post but also left a comment.

“Frido, you won’t believe it. Come see this.” Lucy exclaimed, her eyes wide with disbelief

Frido, who was mid set, begrudgingly walks over to Lucy. Lucy could see her eyes read your comment then immediately light up, mirroring Lucy’s excitement.

“Oh wow. Is she being serious?” Rolfö half questions.

Aitana, hearing Lucy’s shouts from afar, chimed in.

“Lucy, de lo que estabas tan emocionada.”

“Frido, tell her.”

“Y/n l/n liked the video of me and commented an invite to her next premiere in Lisbon”

Aitana gave Lucy a quick side eyes before letting out an impressed whistle.

“You gonna go.”

Frido froze for a second. She absolutely wanted to go but it sort of hit her, someone she admired wanted to meet her.

As the Swede prepared for her trip to Lisbon, her anticipation and excitement continued to grow. Being invited to attend your premiere was amazing on its own but the prospect of meeting you added a layer of thrill. She knew she admired you but she could feel that there was something more to it.

Instagram Post

Liked by y/n l/n, and 1,347 others

Flight went well, get my hair done for the premiere.

@lisbonconceito

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y/n_l/n Can’t wait to meet you

loverolfo09 please take pictures

barca34 a crossover we never knew we needed

fcbfem444 thank you for this content🧎🏻‍♀️we have been fed

Frido couldn’t believe her luck as she stood on the red carpet at the premiere of your film. The flashing of the camera and the glamorous atmosphere were things she had gotten accustomed to due to the award ceremonies but her heart still raced.

As she glided down the red carpet, her eyes caught a glimpse of you. She was completely enamoured, you radiated elegance and beauty. You noticed her staring after a couple of minutes and flashed her a warm smile, making her heart skip a beat.

Her heart skipped another beat when she saw you leave the throng of camera people and come towards her.

“Hey, I’m so glad you could come and that I could meet you.” you greeted her, extending your hand.

Frido, trying to keep her composure, took your hand. “Thank you so much for inviting me, I am a big fan of your work and you.”

You blush ever so slightly, your gaze holding hers. “I do aim to please and I’m glad you were the one I pleased.”

The fullback could see a hint of redness spark your cheeks and decided to test her luck.

Frido leaned in, a playful glint sparkled in her eyes. “I just really want to tell you this to your face but you are such a good actress, your films leave me wanting more. And meeting you is a pleasure that I didn’t know I needed.”

You chucked, the air between you filled with welcomed tension.

“Well, I’m glad you’re enjoying the show, both on and off-screen.”

As the night progressed, you and Rolfo continued to share laughs and engage in conversation. After 30 short minutes you had her heart. She was completely enamoured with you and she could sense that you felt the same. There was this youthful feeling to this love, sort of a school crush.

The atmosphere was electric and the connection between the two of you was palpable. Amid the middle chaotic glitz and glamour, there was a moment when Frido’s hand accidentally brushed against yours while while reaching for a canapé.

Frido's eyes met yours in a brief, yet charged, moment. A subtle blush painted her cheeks as she quickly withdrew her hand, but the touch lingered in the air. Unspoken words passed between you, a silent acknowledgment of the growing attraction.

You decided to take the initiative, letting your fingers intentionally graze against hers when you handed her a drink. Frido looked at you, a mixture of surprise and delight in her eyes. The touch was fleeting, but it sent a jolt of electricity through both of you. Later, during a particularly engaging conversation, you found yourselves standing in a more secluded area away from the bustling crowd. The soft glow of the venue's lights added a touch of intimacy to the moment.

Frido, feeling a surge of courage, gently placed her hand on the small of your back, a subtle yet affectionate gesture. You turned to her, and your eyes met, a silent understanding passing between you. The touch lingered, conveying a connection that went beyond the superficial world of premieres and films. In that brief moment, amidst the glamour and excitement, Frido leaned in once more, gently touching the underside of your chin and bringing it up for your lips to touch.

#woso #woso x reader #woso fanfics #women's football #woso soccer #woso couples #barca femeni #barcelona femeni

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teecupangel · 4 months

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You’ve got a lot of dog!Desmond covered and you’ve got a catboy nonny in the walls….. sooooooo….. just popped in my head….. dogboy!Desmond?

I was thinking of how different Dogboy Desmond would be to Catboy Desmond and I realize what the problem was…

I wrote Catboy Desmond to be adorable and sweet, with maybe a bit of touchstarved Desmond sprinkled in between. This meant that an adorable and loyal Dogboy Desmond would just seem like a similar take so I would like to present an alternative.

Dogboy Desmond… but he has the instinct of a guardian dog.

And he sees Assassins as his ‘herd’.

Altaïr? He’s getting herded so he’d stop ignoring his hunger to finish his current research. Malik is his best friend and it’s normal to see the mentor being pushed around to the dining hall and being glared at until he ate everything in his plate.

Ezio? Ezio’s fine. He can take care of himself (although there will be nights when he and Desmond would just silently relax near the fire). His recruits though… they’re getting herded. Sometimes, Ezio had to stop Desmond from taking them back to their headquarters because “They’re tired, yes, but they can do this. Desmond-” (growl) “Listen to me, Desmond. There will come a time when they must continue even when they’re tired. The only way they can have an idea of what to do and not to do is for them to experience it in a safe-” (growling intensify) “Desmond, please, please just… this is the last lesson for today. I promise.”

Ratonhnhaké:ton? Achilles is getting lots of growls and might even get bitten because Desmond likes to herd Ratonhnhaké:ton back to the manor when he was young. He also herds the kids of the homestead while he’s there with Ratonhnhaké:ton. Strangely enough, he tries to herd Haytham at first but then just starts glaring and growling at him after he got into an argument with Ratonhnhaké:ton.

Edward makes him to shipcat as usual. Adéwalé gets a headache as usual. Strangely enough, Desmond does no herd any of the crew other than Edward and Adéwalé. Edward realized that ‘James Kidd’ is an Assassin because Desmond likes to herd him.

Shay? Oh boy. All of Achilles’ Assassins are being herded. No exception. Shay actually think this is some kind of weird Assassin thing. Liam told him to just go along with it. Desmond stayed with Shay after Lisbon and stopped him from leaving his room until he calmed down. Whether that affects Shay enough for him to try and talk to Achilles once more or if he’ll go with his canon path is up to you. Regardless, Desmond will stay with the Assassins though.

Arno is getting herded by Desmond who happened to be a dogboy that’s staying with the Brotherhood. Bellec tells him he’s been there longer than any of the Assassins alive and he… likes to take care of ‘brats’. Arno is herded with the other ‘newer’ Assassins and the herding (taking care of them) help him form some kind of camaraderie with them (aka: I am still pushing my ‘the Assassins in the Unity trailer should actually be characters that are friends with Arno’ agenda)

Let’s be honest… Jacob, Evie and Jayadeep are all getting herded. Desmond is less of a guardian dog here and more of the ‘father that stepped up’ type. They’re getting herded and taken care of. There is no escape.

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lisbonsteresa · 1 year

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anyway

#what am i even trying to say here idk i just have things to say #it's just very interesting to me that these are (I THINK) the only two times we see lisbon praying like this while holding her necklace #(her mother's necklace the necklace she got from the first person she lost)#and she does both when she's fearing for her own life and when she's fearing for jane's idk just says something to me #(and also in 3.23 she could be using prayer to help keep herself calm but in 4.10 she's past calm and she's past actual prayer #all she can say is please she just needs him to be ok)#alright cool doing well #WELL DID YOU TELL ME SHE GAVE YOU THAT CROSS? YOU TOUCHED IT JUST LIKE THAT WHEN I WAS UNCONSCIOUS WHAT THE HELLLLLL #tm

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wikipedie · 1 year

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Jane and Lisbon + Quotes

1. Timothy Donnelly, “All Through the War” | 2. Ocean Vuong, On earth we’re briefly gorgeous | 3. Eden Robinson, Return of the trickster | 4. Louise Glück, “Mutable Earth”, Poems 1962-2012 | 5. Traci Brimhall, Come the Slumberless To the Land of Nod | 6. Milan Kundera, Ignorance: a novel | 7. Leigh Bardugo, "Rule of Wolves" (Zoya Nazyalensky) | 8. Natalie Díaz, “Isn't the Air Also a Body, Moving?”, Postcolonial Love Poem | 9. Taylor Jenkins Reid, The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo

#the mentalist #jisbon #teresa lisbon #patrick jane #quotes #the mentalist web weaving #web weaving #kind of #love doing these really cheered me up a bit #ignore the fact i used the same scene for 2-3 quotes....it fit #i am absolutely insane about the “trust your anger it is a demand for love” one i simply adore it and i couldn't NOT include it #i love lisbon's anger #i love all of the women's anger actually

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bullet-prooflove · 2 months

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LongDistance!Series - Part One: Melina - Manny x Reader

Tagging: @crazy4chickennuggets @kmc1989 @withakindheartx @darqchilddaydreamz @theesirenteller @wnbweasley @skyesthebomb @delightfulbelieverwerewolf@redpool @trublu2u @fleureeee @thiashazzywriting @lauraaan182 @hatersaremymotivators @fanfic-n-tabulous @ravennaortiz @just-a-throw-away @yousigned-upforthis @kabloswrld @keyweegirlie @katymae12344 @rampsen @@jaebae

In the months that follow more postcards appear on Manny’s fridge, almost more than he can count because you’re bouncing around from country to country, city to city documenting Tattoo Expos throughout Europe.

Barcelona, Lisbon, Munich, Berlin, Paris, Versailles, Vienna.

You’re getting busier and busier these days and Manny can’t help but wonder when you’ll eventually stop to take a breath.

The two of you have been together almost six months and speak daily over Whatsapp through messages, voice notes or video calls. You send the occasional care package from whichever country you’re visiting, beers from Germany, wine from Spain that he’d put aside for when you returned, a gourmet food hamper from France. He’d shared that with his daughter Melina, one evening. The two of them had dressed in striped shirts with matching berets when they sat down and sampled the delicacies.

“Where did this come from?” She’d asked him as he’d set the wicker basket it had arrived in on the kitchen table.

“My friend sent it.” He tells her as they sample some of the salted butter caramel. “She travels all over the world taking pictures of people’s bodyart. Sometimes she sends me things so I can get a taste of the country she’s in.”

“Can I meet her?” Melina had asked.

He’d paused then because although it’s been on his mind recently, but he hasn’t actually broached the topic. There hasn’t been a woman in his life since his ex-Samantha. He’s fucked other women, girls who hung out at the bar, but he’s never brought them home. The truth is he knows it’s not him that they want, it’s the patch. There’s prestige that comes with being acquainted with the President of the club; it gives a woman status. He doesn’t want to bring a person like that into Melina’s world. His daughter is the most precious thing in his life, he doesn’t want her to be tainted by the darker aspects of his existence. She needs better role models in her life than the women who hang around the club and fuck their way up the hierarchy.

“She’s very far away.” He tells her as he snags a handful of coconut popcorn. “Somewhere called Versailles in France.”

He’d hoped that was the end of it before Melina picked up his cellphone and reminded him how video chat worked. His daughter was too smart for her own good and for his.

It’s later that night when Melina’s gone home that he calls you. It’s past midnight in Yuma, which makes it eight am your time. You’re still in your pyjamas, a pretty silk set that he wishes he was there to help you take off. He imagines his fingertips trailing over the thin strap before he guides it down your shoulders.

“My daughter wants to meet you.” He tells you as he sits with his back against the headboard, the room illuminated by the light from his lamp.

“Is that what you want?” You ask him, cradling a mug of coffee to your chest.

He tips his head back against the wall for a second before considering his next words carefully.

“I think this…” He says gesturing between the phone and himself. “…would be a good introduction, a way of testing the waters moving forward. I’ve spoken to Sam and she’s cool with it.”

He’d had the conversation while Melina was packing up her stuff. Once she’d learned you weren’t one of the club girls she had warmed to the idea significantly, he’d shown her some of your pictures and a couple of your articles.

“The two of you getting serious?” She’d asked in that New York drawl of hers and he hadn’t been able to keep the edges of his mouth from twitching up.

Sam can read every single one of his tells. They’ve known each other for over a decade, she’s seen him at his worst and at his best. It’s the first time she’s seen that look on his face in a while and she’s glad that he’s finally focusing on something that isn’t the club or Melina, that he’s allowing himself to be happy.

“Well, she’s successful, she’s smart, she travels the world. I think you could do a lot worse.” She teases him before nudging his shoulder with her own. “At the very least Melina meets an interesting person.”

He’s taken that on board before he’d called you. Even if this thing between the two of you didn’t work out, you can give his daughter insight into another world, one that she won’t get to see here in Yuma.

“If Sam’s signed off and it’s cool with you then I would love to meet her.” You tell him with a smile before taking a sip from your coffee cup. “However, let’s actually schedule a call so that I’m wearing something a little more appropriate when I meet your daughter.”

“I don’t know Mami, that looks pretty appropriate to me right now.” He says, biting his lower lip as the silk clings to your chest. You aren’t wearing a bra, and he can see the dark shape of your nipples through the fabric. “Maybe you could show me a little more.”

You laugh before setting your coffee cup down on the nightstand. You put the phone in the little wooden stand you usually use for when your video calls with Manny get a little risqué.

“So, tell me Manny,” You say as your thumbs hook underneath the straps of your camisole, drawing them down just a little. “What would you like to see first?”

Love Manny? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

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justenjoythegossip · 4 months

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CHRIS WILL BE JUST FINE…

A portion of Chris’ fandom is really mad at him for accepting to be part of a shitshow with such a problematic girl. And rightfully so. But it’s important to keep something in perspective: Chris is going to be just fine.

Stars have gotten away with much worse

I saw this article this morning about celebrities being involved in big scandals. https://www.buzzfeed.com/hannahmarder/wild-forgotten-celeb-controversies

There are many more that didn’t make the list and definitely could have. Even recently, Greta Gerwig’s partner left the mother of his unborn child to be with her. It’s awards season so of course, it has been buried. Same situation with Claire Danes’ sordid affair with Billy Crudup a long time ago.

So many of these Hollywood folks are problematic and have gotten away with it and continue to get away with it.

Their behavior range from the problematic to the horrific and criminal.

Casey Affleck allegedly assaulted a woman sexually and settled his case out of court. He won an Oscar for Manchester by the sea anyway. If people are curious, look at how Brie Larson handed his awards. She knew!

According to Rose McGowan, his brother Ben Affleck would have told her after she had confessed to him that Weinstein (let's not even discuss him) raped her: “I told him to stop doing that”.

Allegedly a former girlfriend of Fassbender pressed charges against him after he violently assaulted her. And I could go on and on.

Many have done much worse than being in a PR relationship with someone problematic and have gotten away with it. So in the grand scheme of things, Chris will be just fine. His “relationship” with Abba will be buried and soon it will be a forgotten memory, only remembered by a small portion of his fandom.

Chris’ darker side

Chris’ history is rather tame compared to all those super problematic people and or criminals that are still on the loose.

But yes, he has made mistakes in the past like everyone else and he has done his fair share of problematic stuff as well. In his younger days, there were rumors of fights and being thrown out of bars. There has been rumors of drug use. There was that messy affair with a married costar during the shooting of Gifted. Also let’s not forget the more recent papwalk in London with Lily James during Covid Lockdown to clean her sniffing cocaine in the park. The pairing of Captain America and Cinderella was a good idea on paper but the execution was atrocious and tactless. It was already a sign of his team’s gross incompetence and miscalculation. There was also the leak of the screenshot of his phone. The d..k pic was all people talked about but some of the other pictures were even more problematic, not as embarrassing of course but more problematic.

Also Chris’ friends and family and Chris himself have trolled his fandom for years. A day before he left for Portugal at the beginning of this shitshow, he tweeted a pic of himself and wrote something like: “I love my fans and Dodger loves you too”. He then hopped on a plane and purposefully filmed a video for that teacher from his hotel room in Lisbon so that his fans (plants?) could place him there. And surprise surprise, there was some backlash on certain platforms and just afterwards he or his team tweeted a picture of him with a bald kid with cancer. It was actually the low point for me. Much worse than anything he did with Abba. I think the picture was 2 years old and I know celebrities use charities to make themselves look good all the time. But using the pic of a sick child for damaged control was as low as you can get. I am not sure he promoted Christopher’s Haven ever since.

And of course, there are still the ongoing shenanigans with the Nazi sympathizing yacht girl…

But like Chris said in an interview the past year, the industry makes you do things you don’t want to do. Hollywood is indeed a snake pit where they sometimes force you to compromise yourself and play certain games if you want to be successful. That is part of the price to pay.

He needed a change in his PR image

Chris was at a good place in his career after Endgame. Knives Out was a huge hit and Defending Jacob got good reviews. He seemed to have diversified but Covid happened and derailed a lot of stuff. Little shop of Horrors was canceled. He didn’t have Marvel to fall back on and he seemed to be at a crossroads career wise and PR-wise. He couldn’t remain the perfect internet boyfriend and play Prince charming waiting for the one forever. He had to evolve into more adults parts as well: husbands, fathers etc.

This is probably why his team came up with this PR relationship and those kinda of weddings. Again it was a good idea on paper because it enabled them to change his image in a natural and organic way. But the execution was again as disastrous as it gets. Abba was not a good fit for him and she was not a good choice especially if they wanted to rebrand him as a family man.

The question remains whether she is the only one who agreed to this charade. Indeed the contract’s terms seem rather drastic. She has never been able to even post anything about him (just his dog) or about marrying him. She has mostly hid for the past years and just popped up for PR events or reasons. And given the GQ event, it's likely she is not even allowed to speak in public. Remember the articles saying she was rude and refused to talk to the media. Who would agree to this kind of contract but a desperate clout chaser with little prospect?

An artist’s career is full of ups and downs. Hopefully, once this is over, Chris will get opportunities to expand on his body of work with more diverse roles. I think Pain Hustlers was supposed to do that for him but even if he was rather good in it, the movie wasn’t. I do think he has the acting chops to do it. Whether or not he will get such opportunities is another question… I am not sure this shitshow would have helped him at all in that regard but time will tell.

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