hstarke

[hstarke]

✧ — ⋆    𝐒𝐎𝐂𝐈𝐀𝐋 𝐌𝐄𝐃𝐈𝐀 & 𝐓𝐄𝐗𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐓𝐒 .

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[hstarke]

In closer proximity now, Hans begins to relax again, though he still keeps his focus high — plucking Kitty's voice out of the ballroom music and chatter like he'd pick raisins out of bread as a child.

"No shit," he smiles. "What college?"

It isn't like they'd shared those sort of details, not at this point in time. The last time they'd been truly close happened under a veil of Hans's own self-service, and back then, her children had been barely high school age. How time fucking flies.

As soon as the story starts, Hans knows exactly where it's headed. He holds his breath, hoping for there to be a twist — for his mind to assume the worst, except this time, the worst isn't what happens next. Except—

She didn't, Hans.

"Jeez, Kitty." He looks away like he'd just been slapped, punctured, or shot. His empathy isn't dependent on thinking of Henry now; it's there, vivid, regardless. "Yeah — I wouldn't blame you if you were asking me to bail you out of fucking jail right now."

As if Catherine Tsai would ever get her own hands bloody, or show that much weakness in such a public manner. Hans thinks he notices her voice change, and those lips quiver — while everything else remains the same.

"Let me guess. You're thinking you can't win in court?" She'd always been smart, too smart, which is perhaps the very reason they'd never work out. He sighs, "Yeah, probably. Even with your public goodwill and my contacts, rich college guys don't face consequences. It's a rule of the universe as old as gravity itself." Hans shifts in his seat on the couch then, fully facing her now. His arm drapes over its cushioned back, and his eyes meet hers. "You could still go for it. I got buddies, best fucking lawyers in New York City."

Hans was always there. Especially in the most critical of times. She never thought in a million years that the man she shared children with would betray her the way he did but he did. And she would have been none the wiser had it not been for Hans. Then there was the stint where they tried their hand at dating immediately after her divorce— well, maybe one of them tried harder than the other — before the other half had to ruin all the fun by being 'the more adult' of the two who didn't have the capacity to engage in anything more than subtle indulgences.

The line her lips pressed into remained for awhile as she considered her choices. Sure, she knew Hans for well over a decade now but did she ever really know Hans? He was always in the periphery...never dug too deep with things.. Could he be trusted? Trust was a sacred currency for Kitty and even after a decade of knowing someone, clearly it didn't always mean you could trust them. Hell. She married a guy and it turns out he couldn't be trusted.

With a heavy sigh, she finally decided. Rather than lower her voice again, she leaned in closer. "She got in a year early, did I tell you?" Her eyes couldn't look into his — or anyone she knew, as she talked. "She spent most of her winter break in her room and she almost didn't tell me. There was a boy, some hotshot athlete, and–" Her eyes peered around to ensure no one else in their vicinity was paying attention. "He took advantage of her and she– She told me she convinced everyone and herself it's what she wanted but.. She didn't, Hans." Kitty wasn't one to break into an emotional scene and she wasn't about to break character there. Though her voice and lips quivered, her eyes were still and wells never formed in them. "You hear that as a parent and your head goes to the worst f—cking places."

@hstarke

[hstarke]

what if mabel married henry

"Jeez." A response not off the propect of that pairing, necessarily, but the thought of transporting himself that far into the future. If Henry marries at twenty, that would make Hans — Nope. His stomach churns. Absolutely not. "The fuck outta here."

Send me ‘What If’ scenarios for my muse to answer.

[hstarke]

"You do know," Hans starts, "that once she hits that button, she then texts me to know what I'm doing after. Right?"

As likely to be the truth, as it is to be a lie. The way he moves through life is no different than that of an actor, with lines rehearsed and cues memorized — making the man most get to meet the ever charming, dream-like Johannes Starke. The well dressed and smooth spoken businessman with a head of blonde hair, boyish smile, and sky-blue eyes. It invites you in. In fools, and then it fools even more.

And sometimes — only sometimes — his true colors show. Harry had seen it painted in the brightest, and messiest of canvases.

"Yeah, neither do I," Hans says categorically. "These are almond flour, or whatever." He picks up another off the line-up, and quite literally throws it at her. "Here. It tastes Domino's. Not the pizza, the box."

If you're sniffing around, Harry says, this opportunity might actually be worthwhile.

He smiles at that, almost proud. Setting down his coffee, Hans slides himself onto the meeting table, a couple spots down from where she'd placed her things.

"Hattie." His voice suddenly lower, suddenly serious. "It's more than fucking 'worthwhile'. What I'm hearing is—" He checks the door. Closed still. "Two-digit commission, on an eight-digit deal. You do the math."

Then, like a switch, he bounces right back to the airiness from before; picking apart small pieces of his cardboard bagel. "What'd'ya think? You'd work with me for a few million?"

After almost fifteen years in this business, Harry would think she'd be over getting nervous about new venture meetings, but striking out on her own has risen the stakes. As she walks into the Wall Street Hotel, it's not exactly nerves she's feeling, just a deep hope that this meeting will actually lead to some money. They did, at least, agree to pay her rate for the time spent at the meeting itself. If nothing else, Harry is about to make a chunk of change just to sit in some conference room and interrupt old men.

Old men and, apparently, one younger man. Though, could you classify Hans Stark as a man? Or is he more like one of those horrible little worms that eat scum on the bottom of a lake? That comparison might be unfair to the worms.

"My secretary has a special panic button she pushes whenever she sees your name on a meeting invite." Harry is pleased, though, that her name ploy is still catching people up, even if it's only the odd secretary.

Despite an attempt to seem unbothered by Hans, Harry is, in fact, shooting those eyes his way: nostrils flared and brows furrowed. Once it's pointed out ot her, she rearranges her face into something more neutral. Not that it matters. The worst thing about Hans (aside from every other thing about him) is that he knows he still gets under her skin.

Another look with eyes crosses her face at the offer of a bagel. "I don't eat carbs after noon." But she does deposit her bag and jacket on one of the chairs and make her way over to snag a Perrier. (The carbs after noon bit is a lie, just another support beam for the image of herself that Harry has so carefully crafted and performs).

"God save me, but I'm actually happy to see you here. If you're sniffing around, this opportunity might actually be worthwhile."

[hstarke]

Those eyes tell Hans exactly what to make of this situation — handing him every tool to study it from inside out. He understands the version of him she needs now; the man he has to be as they dive deeper into her words and the meaning of them.

And so, his blue eyes grow kinder with every blink, finding her gaze in the low light. "Yeah, yeah," he nods. "But what are we talking? Did they call her names? Did they... hit her? I'm going to help," Hans assures her, "but I need to know what happened."

"Don't whisper, Kitty." He'd already been focused on her lips, but there's only so much he can decipher on a tipsy mind. "Please."

There would have been a twitch of her lip if she was not so desperate for him to answer her right then and there. So instead, she gave a roll of the eyes. Of course, she must have known her fate when she decided he might be the one to help her — must have expected him to be a little 'cute' about his approach. And with his clever line, a small smirk from Kitty did manage to peek through. It seemed silly to even entertain the thought of Hans being a father, never mind the joke about him being Laurel's. But as soon as he met her where she was, it was immediately back to business. "The kind of trouble that warrants me asking for your help. Discreetly."

Though she couldn't bring herself to say it, her eyes were full of desperation. If not Hans, then someone else that evening must have had a way to take care of things. Kitty didn't even know what she meant by having something taken care of — barely knew what was possible. "He's a kid but he can't just get off scott free because of that," she said, her volume diving slightly lower. And without saying much, she felt like she said everything.

✳ @hstarke

[hstarke]

🚦 kitty, lev, selim

🚦 - be stuck in an elevator with, be stuck in traffic with, be stuck in the apocalypse with.

Oddly, it isn't such a difficult choice to make. "Elevator with Kitty, obviously," he stars, no elaboration needed. "Lev in traffic only 'cause I'm calling dibs on Selim for the apocalypse — no offense, but Lev would lose an arm wrestle to a fucking dirt worm. Sorry, buddy. I'm going with the 6'3 guy with the eight-pack on this one."

THREE (3) CHOICES ; @catherinetsai @levmovska @adabasi

[hstarke]

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]

Send me ‘What If’ scenarios for my muse to answer.

[hstarke]

closed: @henriettabosch setting: meeting room, the wall street hotel

When Hans's secretary fed him his afternoon schedule, he should have known that there would have been creative liberties taken; a large margin for errors in between listed names.

Uh... a 4pm with a bunch of guys. What guys? I dunno. Old ones.

He'd arrived at the venue early, the meeting room still empty with thirty or so chairs lining the long table at its center. Killing time, Hans helps himself to the buffet, picking out coffee and a bagel — gluten free, thank you very much — when another enters the room.

"You're kidding me." Harry Bosch. "My secretary thought you were a dude." Not a new occurrence, necessarily, but hilarious just the same. During the short time in which they'd dated, he would only refer to Henrietta by her full name, or his preference of a shortened version, Hattie. On Wall Street, the last thing he needed was for others to think he was proudly fucking some guy. "Don't shoot those eyes my way — look at me, I'm playing nice." If only because, Hans thinks, I got a lot to earn from this. "Bagel?"

[hstarke]

"Yeah, it was a private school," becomes the easy answer, but it isn't so full of truth. Closer to reality, is this: "I knew it was the only way to get the fuck outta there." There, the mediocre, unfair life he'd been born into. Away from Seattle and parents-who-shouldn't-have-been-parents Hans would spend the next two decades avoiding. "I did everything — getting laid was just a bonus." Grades, a way to get a leg up. Football, a hyper-masculine sport that effectively shaped his classmates' view of him.

Calculated choices, from a time before he'd become his calculating self — back then, every choice had only ever been about survival.

Hans's gaze trails then, and he scoffs. "No shit. Who?" An entire head taller than everyone else around him, it isn't hard to find Adam in the crowd — the man whose wedding band matches his own. From what can be seen, he's taking to someone, gesturing passionately, smiling in that disarming way he does. Hans nods in the scene's direction, "That's mine."

"I was definitely a nerd - have the emotional scars and Lord of The Rings figurines to prove it." A laugh. "Wow," The shock on his face is genuine. "I'm impressed! Even with eidetic memory, I barely scratched a 3.8." He supposed it was because his life outside of school had been all-consuming. A homophobic family; moving through shelters; sleeping next to some woman and her dog in an alley to working full-time, studying, and up-keeping the shoebox that he lived in. Anyone in his position would've failed or dropped out; he was grateful that he kept pushing. "How did you have time for it all?"

"Football is only sexy to sadists and American capitalism, otherwise it's completely useless to the vast majority of us. Besides, stick handling? Tiny shorts? Sixteen year old me believed it was a great sport - to watch, of course. I would've had my ass handed to me if I tried to play." Selim snorts a laugh. His first two years of high school had been as average as they came; non-violent bullying, creepy gym teachers, and crying his way through SAT prep. "In his defence, he needed somewhere to put his energy while I worked full-time after classes. He was too tired to interrupt my study sessions with his usual 'rich kid, I can go to any school I want' bullshit." Selim matches Hans' shrug but his grin is telling. "Me? Never invited to these things, myself, I usually crash them as a 'plus one' - like tonight." His wide grin widens and he settles into the playful banter that he knew would ensue for the rest of the time they were held in conversation. "Are you sure that's the reason? Or are you here to swindle the rich out of their assets?"

[hstarke]

Hans gives a low scoff, thinking it ironic that he might be the very monster they're speaking about. Hiding not under beds, but rather at full display in meeting rooms from Upper East down to Wall Street. Is that how Theo sees himself as well?

"Yeah, yeah, I get that. If I'd missed Henry's first steps, I would have killed myself." Dramatic? Only a little. "Well if you want, you know your little guy can sleep over." Hans motions to himself. "Sexiest fucking babysitter in all of NYC."

"Correct and that the world is filled with monsters who don't hide under beds but I don't it at all. The whole checking for monsters it shows that he is still innocent and all that," he replied as a sigh escaped his lips. Levi lost his innocence at a very young age and started seeing how dangerous, dark the world was. It was the main reason he worked so hard to make sure that his son still remained a kid. Plus, it did not bother him too much he had to look out for monsters with his kid.

"I guess am just scared of missing out. Not yet ready to go back to work, it's been nice not having long hours and all that."

[hstarke]

"Pffft. This face?" Hans motions to himself. He'd never claimed to be humble. It doesn't take a verbal invitation for him to plop down next to her, eyeing Kitty up close for the first time in a long time.

He then waits a moment, sipping his drink as she sets the tone for this interaction. Hans expects almost anything — except for this. He blinks, then cracks one of those smiles of his; somewhere between boyish and sharklike.

"Oh, I get daddy duties now?" Without daddy benefits, he thinks, which from a business perspective, just sounds like a bad deal. Of course, he can't not think of his own boy, Henry. Only two, and nowhere close to finding issue at school or, well, anywhere. Hopefully too, his last name would be enough to protect his son from any such troubles. Finally, he finds her gaze, "...What kind of trouble are we talking?"

𝗦𝗘𝗧𝗧𝗜𝗡𝗚 ⸻ Masked Ball at the 2025 Winter-Spring Gala 𝗔𝗩𝗔𝗜𝗟𝗔𝗕𝗜𝗟𝗜𝗧𝗬 ⸻ closed for @hstarke

The incessant nibbling on her lower lip resolved as soon as he became within earshot. He being none other than Hans Starke, of course. "Fancy seeing you here." Kitty muttered to herself, glancing down at an empty seat beside her. It was her form of an invitation albeit more demanding than asking. "I almost forgot what you look like," she proceeded, enabling a painful smile persist. She could have said that he expected him to appear out of thin air sooner but now wasn't the time — not with what she was about to bring to the surface.

"Laurel's got some trouble at school," she shared solemnly, her expression fading into something more serious. She barely waited for him to settle in his seat. Kitty didn't bring any emotion into it — no, that could have been interpreted for weakness, and she didn't have all that much left of her to show. She didn't mean to track Hans down first but as soon as her eyes had locked on their target, he just seemed — like the perfect person to ask. "Say, a man with your...resources...how would you make sure trouble didn't ever find her again? Ever." Her jaw clenched at the thought. It was more than trouble; it was hell knowing there wasn't anything she herself could do to protect her little Laurel. But surely, Hans knew who could.

[hstarke]

"What, were you some type of nerd?" Hans scoffs, "I wouldn't have 'terrorized' you — I like nerds." Married one, and all. "Besides, I was the smartest guy on the football team." Which is kinda like being the tallest dwarf. "I'm a numbers guy. Straight A's, 4.0. And somehow still got laid."

Those angel-like features, blue eyes and blonde hair, rosy lips on a boyish smile — all had something to do with it, too. Especially then, when innocence could still be found somewhere in his DNA.

"Lacrosse?" He nearly spits out his whiskey. "Jeez. Were all the sexy sports taken?" "Yeah, yeah. I'm sure they didn't bully you 'cause of your guy, not because you should be the one bullying them instead." Fucking lacrosse. "Yeah, I'm a big deal." Hans's tone is serious, yet his grin spells out, Just fucking around.

Then, a shrug, "I guess once you 'make it', or whatever, the reward is that you get to do things important fuckers do, which... is just dressing up to shake hands, schmooze, and throw money around." Beat. "What's your excuse?"

Instead of an answer, only a disturbed look crosses Selim's features. A fond shake of his head follows but he clicks his tongue. "Ah, you know that actually makes a lot of sense now that you mention it. High school me would've turned the other way if I saw you - I spent the majority of my high school career getting terrorized by the football team - and the basketball team, fortunately for me, my ex-husband was on the lacrosse team, otherwise, I would've gotten terrorized by them too. - Do you get invited to all of these gatherings?"

[hstarke]

"Yeah, you know they're doing ballet, right? It's about to start in a few." There is a stage set at the very far side of the room, velvet curtains hiding the scenery behind it. "You staying, or sneaking out?"

The man's rebuttal just made Paige give a bright laugh and she raised her glass to him.

"Y'know what? That is fair enough, a night like that certainly sounds interesting... Maybe not the ballet."

[hstarke]

"Going?" He scoffs. "That's where it's been all night."

The woman watches the people around them, and Hans watches her. "Yeah, why would I? Sex, mystery, and fuck it — ballet."

open to: all setting: masked ball

At events like these, the bar is where you'll find him. A professional schmoozer in his most natural of habitats.

With a whiskey in hand, Hans studies the crowd — mentally making notes of worst, to best, and Must-Talk-To's. There' no question that the room exists under a cloud of mystery, tonight.

"Yeah, are we sure this isn't some Eyes Wide Shut thing?" He asks his — masked, of course — companion. "Not that I'm complaining."

[hstarke]

For a moment, Hans thinks on it. Then, decides, "Yeah." He takes her hand, and studies the bare finger. Nonchalant, he adds, "Put it back on. It's sexier if it's a challenge."

Nothing like someone with a promise they have to keep — yet they'd make an exception just for you.

"How desperate?" He has to ask. "I don't see him guarding his territory now."

──for Stella, there is hardly a pleasure in mixing business with a good time, so as much as she agrees to work with Starke, she is mostly interested in focusing on enjoying the rest of her night without the cold, calculating nature that goes into sealing deals.

a peal of laughter falls from her lips at his response and she makes a show of showing him she has no wedding band on. “then you gotta teach me your tricks,” she winks at him as she taps her ring finger —which, if he knew her any better, would make no difference whether she wore one or not, to begin with, Stella is selfish, always does what pleases her ( or who ).

“it is what makes you obsessed, is it not?” she retorts, tone coy and confident. men don’t like rejection, they like claiming what is theirs, she has found and that is what her response implied. “I do,” she then adds, plainly, “makes it worth to see how desperate he can be for me.”

[hstarke]

"Please," Hans rolls his eyes in response. "It's Kubrick — it's culture." Or at least that's what the pothead at Monterey had told him. Almost as if offended, he frowns, "Don't make it dirty."

Gaslight, gatekeep, or whatever.

"I played football in high school, does that count?"

Selim had come to a startling realization upon entering the room that evening; many voices and eyes were familiar to him. If not for the mask that hid his identity well, many people would've recognized him as his title or worse yet, recognized him from his ex-husband's. Much to his pleasure (and displeasure) however, the person who speaks to him at the bar rings a fond familiarity inside of him. Many things that came out of the mouth of the banker no longer surprised him but when he speaks of a movie that he'd been forced to watch by a college friend, Selim's immediate reaction shows on his features whether he'd expected him to say something off-hand or not. "What in all of the world is wrong with you?" It's a playful tease, harmless and well-intentioned. "Were you dropped as a baby?"