hstarke - Tumblr blog

[hstarke]

"Shut up. Are you serious?" Sports, such an innate crux of American culture, perceived often as practically a rite of passage. It had been for him, anyway. Hans shrugs, "Some have better rules than others. More rules than others."

Is it all that surprising, really, that a man so hellbent on the idea of winning, finds himself craving it also through teams of many?

He focuses on the curves of Mathias's mouth, the words they produce, how his tongue twists over and under; slow and steady. Swim? "Yeah, I know how to swim. Who doesn't?" He's starting to get the feeling that Mathias might be exactly who. "Beach, obviously." Hot bodies, under the sunlight. Including his own. "I also like just taking a boat out in the ocean, get a drink or two while watching the waves crash."

"...Yeah, you're not first person to be interested in me." Beat, as his smile grows. "The only difference is that we're doing this backwards. Usually, people find out the boring shit first: sports, beach over mountains, what have ya. Then they see the rest." His flaws, cravings and addictions, all that villainy. The perfect image is presented — and then it cracks. "What do you like?"

Mathias had practice in the small talk. Innocent questions that could give him information on people. He wasn't planning on doing to Hans what he usually did to people when he asked them questions like that. There was no desire to actually hurt the other man. Not yet anyways. It was genuine curiosity.

"Ah, I don't think I've ever seen a sports thing live. To be honest I don't understand the rules of any of them". Hans' interests seemed on par with what Mathias imagined them to be. Very social, very typical of a man like Hans.

"Do you do anything else outside of all that? Like do you know how to swim? Do you prefer to go to the beach or to the mountains?" Mathias folded his hands in his lap, "Hans has anyone ever asked what you're into? Or am I the first to show genuine interest?"

[hstarke]

There's a beat, as Hans's gaze shifts from the man's mouth to his eye as he thinks on it. He senses the urge to not be necessarily literal — obsessions come in all forms, and if even a fraction of them are want, then he had seen that over and over. Instigated it, even.

"Yeah, yeah. Fucking tragic, I know." Anti-climatic as it may have been tonight, it's more of a positive than not. All these years later, his voice is still inside her head. "Come on buddy, don't make me jealous. You never had an ex go crazy on ya?"

"Yeah, yeah — I'm a gentleman."

After a moment, Hans does take the offering, and holds it out like a celebratory toast between them.

"That would make him pretty obsessed with me, wouldn't it?" He scoffs, and puts the stranger's aide to use — dabbing the tissues across his forehead.

[hstarke]

AARON TVEIT and MARY ELIZABETH WINSTEAD as GARETH and LAUREL

BRAINDEAD | 1.13 ↳ The End of All We Hold Dear: What Happens When Democracies Fail: A Brief Synopsis

[hstarke]

TOMBSTONE - What do they think their legacy would be? What do they think people would etch on their tombstone or say at their funeral?

For a long time — thirty-five or something-ish years —, Hans thought nothing of it. No legacy, no etching on his tombstone, perhaps not even that many funeral attendees. Certainly not a lot of people with something to say.

But by forty-one, he's built an empire of riches, but it isn't what he's thinking of. His legacy is his son, and while some might speak of him at his worst, there are those who will speak about him at his best. His son, his husband, his friends. His chosen family.

HORROR THEMED MUSE Q’S — LEE | ANAÏS | TRISTAN | RAHI | HANS | JULIAN

[hstarke]

"Yeah, yeah — I'm a gentleman."

After a moment, Hans does take the offering, and holds it out like a celebratory toast between them.

"That would make him pretty obsessed with me, wouldn't it?" He scoffs, and puts the stranger's aide to use — dabbing the tissues across his forehead.

Suresh smiled, "Very diligent of you then. To find the time even in a tuxedo."

He kept his arm extended for the beat, waiting for the other man to either accept or turn him down. He chuckled lightly, "You caught me." He hadn't. But what did it matter. Suresh pulled out a third tissue while he slipped the small pack into his inner jacket pocket. Moving a step closer to offer that final third tissue. "For you. Just in case Phelps is still around somewhere lying in wait to challenge you again."

[hstarke]

SUCCUBUS - What is their best asset when it comes to manipulating other people? Money, connections, sex, words, etc?

When it comes to manipulation, Hans's words are always too perfect to be true. His actions, even the curves of his smiles — yes, smiles, plural. Different strokes, for different folks.

But what makes it so, is his perception. He wouldn't be able to know what people want to hear, or what people want to see, if he wasn't able to study them and understand them so precisely.

Everything else just falls into place.

HORROR THEMED MUSE Q’S — LEE | ANAÏS | TRISTAN | RAHI | HANS | JULIAN

[hstarke]

The guy gets it. Thank fuck, he does.

"Give or take." Look at that, he's being kind. Giving his ex girlfriend the benefit of the doubt — of maybe a week or two that made it seven years, not eight. "Guess she fucking did."

"Boring?" A low, incredulous scoff. "Yeah, yeah — there's not a dull fucking moment, buddy. But then again, I like numbers and watching old money fuckers squirm." Hans glances back over his shoulder — into the lively party inside. Said old fuckers, just there at the centre of the dancefloor.

How do you cope? "Are you kidding? It's fucking great."

selim's eyes widen, his suspicion of the other dissipating. "eight years?" it's a mixture of disbelief and mild irritation. the idea that someone could still hold emotion after such a long time of separation creates a nervous sweat somewhere on his brow; even after all of his mistakes, was it possible that his ex still loved him from afar? would he one day, in the middle of a party, be in the position the other man was in? "and she felt entitled to hold an opinion of who accompanied you? enough to assault you?" the question comes from the cop, the agent, and the empathy inside of him. "after eight years? the world we live in..." the last part is muttered, barely the sound of a breath.

despite his irritation, selim nods. "at the beginning of the event, i thought it would be boring; a couple of drunken mishaps, maybe a broken vase or two, though i hoped they would steer clear of the statues - wall street sounds boring too, how do you cope?" he grins.

[hstarke]

"It's like I always say," — Hans has never said it — "never a bad time for cardio."

There's a beat after the offered tissues, something pathetic about needing it, but fuck it. Hans claims one, then two. Dabs it around his hairline, then the base of his neck. "Yeah, yeah, buddy. You don't cry at weddings, Phelps dared me on a 200m race, and pigs do fucking fly. Three truths, no lies."

open to: all setting: madden-kumar wedding, balcony area

"I fell in the pool," he says, nonchalant, before the question comes. Of course, there is no pool — and even if there was, it would have been a feat and a half to only manage to get his hair and collar wet.

Hans lifts his full whiskey glass in a mock toast, "To weddings."

[hstarke]

RAHI | HANS | JULIAN | LEE | ANAÏS | TRISTAN 

✧ — ⋆    𝐒𝐎𝐂𝐈𝐀𝐋 𝐌𝐄𝐃𝐈𝐀 & 𝐓𝐄𝐗𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐓𝐒 .

SOCIAL  MEDIA  PROMPTS .

send  📘  for  a  facebook  status  about  your  muse 

send  👻  for  a  snapchat  from  my  muse 

send  🐦  for  a  tweet  about  your  muse 

send  📸  for  an  instagram  post  about  your  muse

TEXTING  PROMPTS .

send  🍷  for  a  drunk  text  from  my  muse

send  😳  for  an  embarrassing  text  from  my  muse

send  💋  for  a  flirty  text  from  my  muse

send  😱  for  a  scared  text  from  my  muse

send  ✨  for  a  random  text  from  my  muse

send  😡  for  an  angry  text  from  my  muse

send  😬  for  a  worried  text  from  my  muse

send  😢  for  a  sad  text  from  my  muse

send  😁  for  a  happy  text  from  my  muse

send  💕  for  a  loving  text  from  my  muse

[hstarke]

RAHI | HANS | JULIAN | LEE | ANAÏS | TRISTAN 

THREE (3) CHOICES ;

Send an emoji below + three (3) different characters / muses that my muse must pick from! Some choices are considered ns / fw.

💍 - fuck, marry, kill. 💎 - unsex, divorce, revive. 💋 - hug, cuddle, kiss. 💫 - fight, tickle, insult. 🦋 - befriend, adopt, ignore. 🥊 - pinch, slap, punch. ✨ - summon, banish, absorb. 🔗 - handcuff, tie up, pin down. 🦷 - lick, suck, bite. 🗳️ - vote for, vote against, run against. ☕ - get coffee with, go out to dinner with, steal their food. 💤 - sleep with fully clothed, sleep with in underwear, sleep with naked. 💰 - rob a bank with, hide a body with, rat out to the cops. 🚦 - be stuck in an elevator with, be stuck in traffic with, be stuck in the apocalypse with. 🎉 - hang out with, party with, ghost. 🔛 - make love to, have a quickie with, be rough / kinky with. 🍪 - make cookies for, make a five-course meal for, burn all their food. 🔪 - protect, attack, fight side-by-side with. 💬 - SEND IN YOUR OWN THREE OPTIONS NOT LISTED ABOVE!

[hstarke]

Remaining incredibly still, Hans meets his eye. "Sounded important."

There's a pause, followed by a laugh. "Ah, yeah, yeah — we're sharing it." And Hans does his part, by taking another hit, and allowing Alexander to take his own. "So, you wanna get outta here soon?"

"Yeah, yeah, 'horrible' is pushing it." It isn't, but Hans only makes certain confessions in his mind — where he can be judge, jury, and executioner.

Then, a double-take. "She? Who's 'she'?" He'd used the word girlfriends, plural. An anthropomorphic idea of women as their own entity, with their collective hive mind. "You got a new girl?"

"Don't act like I started it," Hans scoffs, looking down at their drinks. "You pulled it out, buddy. We might as well do something with it." He reaches out again, and takes a longer sip. "It's actually rude to waste. I heard that somewhere."

[hstarke]

"Yeah, yeah," he laughs. "I work Wall Street. The ten percent looks more like a hundred if you're looking down at it from a 55 story building."

Was your ex, the guy asks, your ex at the beginning of the wedding?

"Jeez. Do I look like a fucking cheater to you?" Hans knows he does. It's the hair, the smirk, the whiskey in hand — the cadence of his speech, and well, everything. "Yeah. We broke up eight years ago."

"Yeah, buddy, can't say I have." Beat. "So what, you're working tonight?"

the vulgarity of the man's words gives him insight. selim tries to hide the smirk that crosses him, his gaze finds the utility van off in the distance and wonders, with a bit of excitement, if flashing his badge would melt over-confident satisfaction into a pale anxiety. at one point in time, it had been how he got rid of stingy old men in bars he had no business being in. now, it was like a well-kept secret; only spoken of when necessary - and it never was. people would have to get close enough to him for that. selim hums, his eyes finally meeting the other's. "by the sounds of it, you know a lot about that ten percent. follow up question, was your ex, your ex at the beginning of the wedding? or is this a recent establishment?" a shrug follows a playful grin. "it's clear that you've never worked library security before, friend." selim chuckles, easily falling into the cover he'd been given. "we have large book signings, hold high profile events like this one, things can get out of hand. having a spare shirt is more about preparation than expectation."

[hstarke]

Afternoon runs along the river— one of Hans's only truly good habits.

Along the five-mile path, he sees many faces, but seldom are they ones he's seen before. Then, Lydia.

Hans slows down at the sight of her, plucking the AirPod out of his good ear. "La Roche?" A chuckle, under his breath. "No idea. But we can probably find out. What is it? A store?"

❧ midday ❧ near the river ❧ open to all

No matter how much she'd grown to love the city, no matter how much time spent rushing through the streets of a city that she now knew truly never seemed to sleep, she could still get lost. For a while now she'd been wandering around, searching for the restaurant someone at work had recommended; some little corner place that apparently had amazing food. And all for her to simply get lost. Of course, with her luck even her phone had given up. It was now tucked away in her bag, charging with one of the portable chargers. Until then she was lost, at least until she finally lost her patience to wait and instead approached someone who at least looked like they may know their way around.

"Sorry, do you happen to know where a place called La Roche is? I was told it's around here." A sigh. "I think I've gotten terribly lost."

[hstarke]

Instead of better lies, he's feeding James something much more sinister: the truth. or some version of it, anyway.

"Nice try, buddy. It was an ex-girlfriend, actually." Idiots, the pair of them. "She pissed herself off. I was just in the way." Isn't that how it always goes?

Hans eyes James up, and then down. "Who did you piss off?"

Laughter threatens to spill from his lips, but instead he clinks their glasses together. "To weddings."

Knowing Hans, he could've come up with a better lie. "Who did you piss off this time?" A fun game of Guess Who? takes place as he briefly scans the crowd. It was pretty easy to narrow it down. "Ex-girlfriend or ex-girlfriend?"

[hstarke]

The guy looks away, yet Hans holds his gaze a little longer — before he, too, shifts. There's a small grin when he does. No doubt, there's a satisfaction there.

He had thought about it, but he hadn't thought about it. All he knows of his ex in the present tense, is that she's a big time democrat — a righteous soul, defending the poor and fighting for the weak. Logic tells him revolt wasn't the look in her eyes; but it was something, a mirror perhaps, twisted when facing head-on.

"Forty?" Hans double-takes with a laugh. "At least ten percent of that are getting their cocks sucked without their wives knowing." Beat. "Yeah, yeah, I'm fine. If ya ask me, she just wanted to fuck my hair up."

Incredulous then, he echoes, "You have a spare shirt? What the fuck kinda chaos were you planning for?"

uncomfortable under his prodding stare, selim turns away from hans, this time resting elbows on the railing of the balcony instead. dark eyes roll as he continues to speak, empathy and anger bubble under the surface of his skin, hands wring together to try to soothe such a burn. "she and forty percent of this country believe its an attack on their ideologies, it doesn't surprise me that she reacted as she did, though it should." selim muses quietly, "if that's the case, are you okay? i have a spare shirt if you need it..." his ex-husband, even in all of his faults, would've scoffed at such childishness from a grown woman - he supposed that said something about this man's ex.

[hstarke]

Selim laughs, and Hans laughs back. It's ridiculous — and he's well aware of it.

You've left a lot of room in your story, the guy says, for my mind to fill in the blanks with assumptions.

It's so like him, isn't it? To provide key visuals, surrounded by breadcrumbs, and portray whatever they want to see.

"Yeah, yeah," he says. "Water, gin. Who even knows the difference, anyway?"

Did you deserve it?

"You know what? No, I fucking didn't." He went back and forth on it since it happened; his sins are many, and Esme had certainly built a rolodex based on their past. But tonight— "An ex girl of mine saw me with someone else." Hans eyes the other closely, and blinks through quiet assessments. "A guy. Decided it was an attack on her somehow."

it comes out as a snort, his laugh, despite selim's desire for his amusement to stay internal. "by fell," he inquires, leaning hip on the railing as he turns toward hans, interest piqued. "do you mean that you accidentally became acquainted with a body of water by manner of falling?" lips curl into a grin, lifting his own glass toward the other's. "or did someone 'accidentally' pour the contents of their glass over your head? more importantly, did you deserve it? i'm curious - you've left a lot of room in your story for my mind to fill in the blanks with assumptions."

[hstarke]

"Yeah, yeah, bullshit," he calls it. "Remember Esme?" A girlfriend, from some many years ago. "Still batshit, apparently."

Whether or not his actions — past or present — had driven her to such extremes is a debate for a different day.

"Please. Weddings are the fucking treasure chest social mining," Hans scoffs. "I'll easily make half a mil just on the fuckers I schmoozed today."

"Bunch of millionaires here tonight," he notes, "and we both know what millionaires like most besides hookers and tax evasion." He teases her in the right direction; nonchalant, as he looks out at the skyline. "You think it could snow tonight?"

a soft clicking of her tongue, followed by a slow roll of her eyes, isabella takes to standing next to hans. her heels are hurting her feet, so she's a little bit annoyed and maybe that's why the next words are so cutting. "you know i don't care too terribly much what you get up to," a soft sigh, she slips her feet from the blasted things, shrinking a few inches as she does so, and rolls her neck to loosen the stiffness in her shoulders. "i hate weddings. blasted things, all they seem to be good for is entrapping people in a lie."