#being in on the secret vs barely getting a peek

[lisbonsteresa]

i just think it's neat

[nobodyfamousposts]

Is it just me, or does it feel like there's a huge discrepancy in the writing of Miraculous? When it's good, it's really good, but when it's bad it's just awful.

That’s pretty much how Miraculous is and I think is tied to a lot of good ideas but poor execution or just an inability to follow through.

They have best friends for both heroes but don’t utilize them. They gave us alternative romance options for both heroes but didn’t have relationships with either of them truly exist for more than an episode. They give Adrien extra ties to the plot but don’t do much with them. They made Chloe an unrepentant bully but never truly gave her any long term consequences and would even “soften” the blows she would receive by the end. They then gave Chloe a bad mom to serve as a Freudian Excuse and presented a chance to call her out for being a bad mom but then reversed course on that by having them be pushed to get along through how rotten they both are. They have Marinette try to move on from Adrien but then force her to go right back to being lovesick over him. They have Adrien try to move on from Ladybug but also go back to trying to push for them to be a couple. They gave us numerous extra heroes but barely use them. And even some of their respective hero episodes don’t focus on the hero in question.

They have a Miracle Box full of extra Miraculous with their own powers, but we’re going on 4 seasons and still don’t know what a good half of them do. They have special potions that give them alternate outfits and abilities, but we’ve only seen three of them. They have a Miraculous Grimoire that details secrets of the Miraculous, but don’t show what’s in it. They brought back the Guardian Temple but had nothing come of that--no meeting with the heroes or Fu facing his former teachers and allies (at least not until after Fu gave up his memories).

They give us Felix, who could serve as an amazing rival or foil for Adrien, but seems intended more as a hate sink and Take That! for those who liked the original PV Chat Noir concept more than the current setup. They give Lila, who is supposed to be a skilled liar but seems less skilled in her own right and more like everyone else has just been dumbed down. They have Gabriel as the apparent Big Bad of the entire series, who can’t seem to settle on a motivation and vacillates between Large Ham and Ineffectual Sympathetic Villain with small bits of actual competency sometimes peeking through.

All in all, there are good ideas here. But given how they go about it and the way they just fall short of utilizing them to their utmost, it feels like there’s a lot of wasted potential.

This is what puts the “plot point you don’t like vs bad writing” debate fully into the “bad writing” category. It’s not that these are bad plot points. It’s that they aren’t being done well.

[seijohsfairy]

𝙸𝙼𝙼𝙾𝚁𝙰𝙻

In where your boyfriend likes watching you get fucked, and you are a bit too late to tell him that maybe it’s a bad idea. 

.word count. 2.8k .pairing. miya atsumu x fem!reader x sakusa kiyoomi .genre. smut (m), slightly angsty

tw cuckolding, tbh incel!omi, spit play, voyeurism, masturbation, praise vs. degradation, atsumu’s fingers (yes this deserves a warning, i’m obsessed), unprotected sex, possibly cheating-ish?

.author’s note. “I absolutely don’t thirst for Atsumu or Kiyoomi, don’t know what it is but I just don’t,” I say all bright eyed, you know, like a liar. Anyway, I don’t know how this happened either but I hope you enjoy it!

+

The first time was a once-off, you’d thought. You had been clingy all day, and your boyfriend had been so tired from practice. So he asked someone to help out for you, and that’d been that. No big deal. You’d been a bit surprised that of all people, he’d asked Miya Atsumu to do the job, but considering the setter’s long fingers had soon been stuffed deep into you it didn’t occupy your thoughts much. You’d all be going your separate ways anyways, you and your boyfriend back to your apartment, and Atsumu would stay in his own little world far enough away.

So when not three days later Atsumu was seated on your couch with a brilliant smile on his face, right opposite your significant other, it’d made you a bit cautious. From as soon as he’d gotten comfortable around you, Kiyoomi had liked prodding at your boundaries. Reaching at but never past ‘em. It made intimacy fun, made your heart beat and so you’d always been pretty open with his suggestions. But this had been difficult to grasp. “I want to try something new. I think you should let him fuck you,” he’d said, and you’d been able to close your gaping mouth just long enough to catch the intrigue in Atsumu’s eyes.

“W-What? But what about you, Omi?”

“I want to watch. If you’re comfortable with that. I think you’ll like it.”

Looking back, you had liked it. It made you feel desired, hot and flushed and it didn’t hurt that compared to your boyfriend, the blond loved showering you in endless praise. Telling you how pretty you were, how sexy your sounds and how great your touch. You had liked it once and twice, and with that, had learned to like his attention too. Slight touches brushing past your hand in public just made you feel like you had a secret of you three. But maybe you should’ve talked about it with Kiyoomi more than you did. Atsumu fucked you in front of your boyfriend more than he did himself after a while, and you started missing his touch. Any time you’d initiate something, he’d tell you to shower, and by the time you came out of the hot water Atsumu would be at the door to help you out.

“Yer a bit touch starved, aren’t cha? Pretty girl,” he’d whisper, pressing kisses to your crown when drawing you close. “I’ll make ya feel good, baby.” The more Atsumu came over, the less touchy Kiyoomi grew. But in daily life, he was the same man you’d fallen in love with, which made it so much harder to complain about the strange dynamic. He wasn’t touching you, but he seemed happy to stay on the sidelines and watch. And you were getting all the sex you could ever need, even if it wasn’t with your boyfriend. Maybe you should’ve talked about it more, but you’d been thrown into the dark so suddenly that it felt easy to cling to the strong arms wrapped around you every other day.

“Keep yer eyes right here, baby girl,” the lithe voice calls, fingers under your chin and aiming your face up. Atsumu hovers over you, pressing you back into the plush of the bed with his weight supported on his forearms. He presses a few kisses to your lips, giggling when you whine at his slow movements, before he trails his fingers down your naked chest and over your nipples. He’d been at this for quite a while, and you are definitely growing more impatient by the second. When you reach up to wrap your arms around his neck with another whimper, he tutts his lips. “Shh, pretty thing. Play nice.” He flicks his finger against your pointed bud as a punishment, before continuing his slow, meticulous movements a bit longer.

But you can tell even he’s getting testy. His fingers keep going back and forth between messing with your lips, your tits and your drenched panties, as if he can’t decide which of his toys to play with first. He smacks his lips before dropping his mouth to the swell of your breasts, starting to mark you up in the places the bruises of previous nights aren’t scattered. The warmth of his mouth leaving more obnoxious blots of color. Atsumu lifts his face from your skin for long enough to settle back between your legs, rutting his hardness against you with slow drags of his hips. “Stick yer tongue out for me,” he breathes, and as soon as you do he pinches it between his fingers to tug. “I’ll get ya nice and messy for me, don’tcha worry. Would’ya like that?” With your tongue still held out of your mouth, he peers down at you with those pretty browns for an answer.

Saliva builds up in your mouth as you breathe out, humming in reply. Always concerned about your pleasure first, he rolls his hips into yours harder. “Good.” He leans down to press a kiss on your tip of your tongue, and as messy and overly intimate as it is, you’ve long grown appreciative of all of it. Even if it makes you feel dirty, you savour the feeling. You’re more than happy to take it all if that means you’re being touched. You let your eyes drop closed when he lets go of your tongue, leaving it out still. Spit’s collecting in your mouth and going down your face, and the blond grunts like it’s the best sight he’s had in a while. “Keep it out, good girl.” He leans down to you again to lick up the length of your tongue, before he sucks on the wet muscle, moaning.

While he traces your tongue with his, his hands grab at your ass to drag you into him more, and you grind back on his slow motions to the best of your ability. His hard cock pushing exactly where you need it to, though you’d love it even more if he just gave up and fucked you already. Alas. When he pulls back to let you breathe, you frown at him and try to speak without disobeying his order. You compromise by pulling your tongue back but keeping your mouth mostly open. “You’re so nasty, ‘Tsumu,” you manage to mumble, swallowing some of your spit before you make more of a mess of yourself.

Atsumu just laughs, a soft, breathy one, burying his face into your neck. “Yer one to talk. Droolin’ all over yer own face.” He presses wet kisses to the expanse of your neck in between the words, leaning up to wipe some of the spit on your chin away with a thumb. “But ya look so pretty like that, ya know I can’t help myself.” He slowly pushes your tongue back into your mouth with one finger. Then he slides his hand back down your body to rub over your covered slit and to give a mind-numbing pressure on your clit. You groan at the feeling, both at his calloused fingers being used so well and at the way your wet panties feel on your skin. He’s quick to silence your noises with a proper kiss, lazy pulls of his tongue around yours and his lips melting to you in a perfect rhythm to drive you crazy. It still surprises you, how good his is with that loud mouth of his.

A soft click sounds through the room. You don’t have to look to know that your boyfriend is freshly showered, and will take his seat in the chair positioned right next to the window soon. Atsumu doesn’t allow you to tense up though, pulling back from your body to start shimmying your panties down your thighs. “Finally. Poor thing’s been wet for fifteen minutes.” You would’ve been able to start much sooner if he hadn’t insisted on a rule that you can only have sex from the moment the spiker is in the room, and not a second earlier. Hell, you would’ve been able to start much sooner if he didn’t want to watch you get fucked more than he wants to do it himself.

Kiyoomi gives only a soft sigh in response as he plops down in the chair, springs creaking. You open your eyes and are met with Atsumu’s adoring gaze, one which he keeps as he taps the sides of your hips. “Lift ‘em, please.” He takes off your panties and tosses them at the foot of your bed, before he finally uses those pretty hands on your dripping slit, working you perfectly. He swirls around your clit for a moment, dragging two digits up and down to slick them up and you’re already so worked up from all the teasing that this makes you shudder. He always is a dream when he gets to put his hands on you. His tongue peeks out between his lips when he glances between your bodies, focussing on every twitch and tug. He’s so pretty.

You take a moment to glance away though, meeting Kiyoomi’s calculated expression. His dark hair still damp, shirtless and slouched into the red chair, he regards you. His stare is blank. You can’t remember the last time he looked at you with genuine lust, but then again, you’re not sure he ever actually did. Even so it’s been months, you can barely remember what his touch feels like. The tenseness of dredging through the thick tar of your thoughts must follow through into your body, because Atsumu looks back up at you with a slight frown on his handsome face. “You okay?” You nod right when he slips in a finger and kisses you on the temple. “Yer so tense, baby girl.” The faint kisses down your neck and collarbones feel like heaven.

He rubs his thumb over your sensitive clit as he sucks and bites at both nipples. His long fingers curl inside you just right as soon as he adds a second and a third one, stretching you out. His fingers are so thick and strong, able to hit the right spot inside you every pump. And the added feeling of his breath on your wet chest, the weight of his body on you. You whine out his name, tangling your fingers in his hair as your back curls off the mattress. Atsumu grins, even with shut eyes you can hear it in his voice and you call for him again, the coil in your belly already winding tight. “Feels good?” he asks, giggling when you nod your head up and down without thinking. Yes, yes, he feels so good. He always does.

Your legs are spread wide apart, thighs trembling the longer his brutal pace continues on your body. “Ah— ‘Tsumu, I’m close.” Beads of sweat pool under your breasts, and you open your eyes long enough to catch the look on his face. There’s nothing there but devotion to bringing you pleasure. You couldn’t believe it when he fingered you the first time, and it’s still hard to believe now. Your body shudders at the sight. His thumb gives a particularly hard few circles on your clit, making your head spin. And his other hand is pinching at your tits, using his nail to flick over the peaked knob. It’s rough, but so good. “Uh, oh- p-please Atsumu,” you ramble, “‘Tsumu, wan’ cum. Wanna cum, please. Please.”

The squelching of your sloppy pussy fills the room, as Atsumu groans. “Yeah? Yer gonna cum all over my hand, huh?” The deep tremble of his voice feels deafening, you’re so close it’s almost painful. You pull him closer, wanting to feel him, his warmth, the smoothness of his skin, anything at all—

“Let her cum on your cock,” Kiyoomi orders, drawing your attention over. He has his hand wrapped around his cock, lubed up with lotion and jerking his wrist to slide over the pretty, pink head. The time you were allowed to do it for him seems distant. At the soft moan he lets out you fight the urge to call out his name, because that too isn’t allowed anymore. Something about breaking the immersion. You can’t help but think anyone would be hurt that the sound of your voice bothers him when he’s jacking off. Maybe you just sound gross— no, Atsumu loves hearing you. He could get off on your noises alone. And turning back to find reassurance in the man nestled tight between your legs becomes easier each time it happens.

You hold the immensely frustrated pleads that work up your throat to bite your bottom lip, instead just going along with it. There was a time where you’d have pleaded to let you cum, a time where he’d have his own fingers on and in you, where your begging actually meant something. But you know by now that the more you talk back, the less Kiyoomi allows you to receive. The blond seems almost as angry at the denial of your orgasm as you are, because the slight twitch of his brow stays. But as he stills his fingers, he curls them obscenely once more and presses his lips to yours. “Sorry princess, ya heard the man.” He then pulls the digits out of you to slip them into his own mouth, cleaning your juices from them with a lewd ‘pop’. He shoves his boxers down his thick thighs to expose himself, giving himself a quick few pumps.

“Bend back yer legs for me, pretty girl. I’ll make it up to ya.” He helps you lift your knees to your chest and runs the flushed, leaking head of his cock up your slit until he’s as wet as you are. Then he presses another kiss to your parted lips, and smiles into it. He pulls back with a low whisper, slowly starting to push in as he pushes out the words. “I love stuffing this pretty cunt. It’s mine.” The stretch feels so good, so so good and he’s so warm, you mewl as he sinks into you. And as you reach one hand back up to his shoulders to steady yourself on his big cock, the other searches out his touch. His long fingers tangle easily with yours, slotting perfectly together.

“Ahgh,” you moan at his first thrust, “so full. S’big, ‘Tsumu.” He leaves kisses all over your face as you get used to the overwhelming feeling of his cock, and you glance over for just a moment to the chair. Kiyoomi is dabbing at himself with tissues. You didn’t even notice he already came. You want to feel bad, you should have noticed, you should have— But then Atsumu switches out the slow draw of his hips for a faster rhythm and you’re gone from the world. You babble out his name and cling to him as the orgasm that was so cruelly denied earlier builds back to a peak, the heat in the pit of your stomach overflowing. “Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck, ohfuckohfuckohfuck, Atsumu!” Your legs tremble, your walls squeezing around him so hard he can barely pull himself out enough to thrust. Black and white marks the edges of your vision.

You’re still far off from the world when you feel the setter’s lips on yours, but the vague words from your side filter in not too much later. Your boyfriend clicking his tongue. “You’re such a filthy slut, cumming all over someone who’s not even your boyfriend. You just need any dick to get off, tch.” You come down after that, feeling too hot but slightly cold as well. Atsumu pulls his hips back far enough to allow you a moment more to get back to yourself, before he touches your chin to draw your face back to his.

“Can ya do another, baby? I wanna give ya another.” It’s sweet. He’s sweet. You nod. So ever so slowly he starts back up, giving your sensitive body extra attention. You bury your face into his neck as he hovers himself back over you, his chest heaving up and down from the effort. “Yer so pretty. So good, so tight for me. Always so fucking tight for me.” You plant kisses there until Atsumu starts groaning out his words, your name over and over and you forget about the stinging gaze on the both of you. Maybe you should have talked about this with Kiyoomi more. No, you definitely should have. Then you wouldn’t be falling so hard for the guy your boyfriend brings in to fuck you when he can’t be bothered.

///

in this house we love and adore the miya twins equally and i don’t take criticism. he’s a fucking treasure, i will bop you on the head if you say anything different. anyway, this was my first time writing these boyos so i hope they’re not too ooc! thank you so much for reading, you’re all beautiful humans. (๑◕ㅂ▰)

[queen-scribbles]

The Long Burning Torch ch 2

Oh, look, there more! :D Second chapter for my Ryn/Red 20s AU brought you by @shepherds-of-haven ‘s summer event 

------

True to his word, Red called just a couple days later--with supremely perfect timing, too; Xaeryn had just returned from following a lead. She was in the process of unpinning her hat when the telephone rang and she ll but dove across the room, hatpin in hand, to answer it.

“Shrike Investigations,” she said with that borderline-cheerful professionalism people expected from anyone running a business.

“Xaeryn?” He sounded curious verging on concerned. “Everything alright?”

“Oh, hittin’ on all eight,” she assured him with a breathless laugh. “I just got back from chasing down a lead.” She left off how literal that was this time as she glared at the mud on her shoes. “He was... more help than he meant to be, I think. I’m just grateful it didn’t turn into another dead-end.”

Red laughed. “Glad to hear it.” The line crackled a bit in the moment’s silence before he continued, “I had a chance to do some research, turned up a few interesting things.”

Generally interesting, or Red-interesting? Xaeryn wondered with a fond smile, remembering his fascination with even the minutiae of everything he read. “Like what?” 

“At least some of what happened to the pendent after the Solimer lost it, and it’s a bit of a mess.” He laughed again, sheepishly this time, and Xaeryn pictured him running a hand through his hair. “It’s better explained in person. Should I come to you--”

“I’ll come there,” Xaeryn offered. “You’re doing me a favor, it’s the least I can do. And besides” --she grinned, even knowing he couldn’t see her-- “it’s a long drive and I wouldn’t want you to forget any of your notes.”

There was a long-suffering sigh, punctuated by a chuckle that made the line pop. “You’re never going to let me live that down, are you?”

“No more than you let me live down the apple tree,” she retorted sweetly. “Does it work for me to come today? The guild’s getting antsy with the exhibit date drawing closer, but if you’re busy...”

“I have a lecture in... just under an hour.” Red paused, likely doing the same travel time vs lecture time calculations she was. “If you left soon, you’d probably get here just as I’m finishing, we could talk after?”

“Sounds good to me,” Xaeryn said scraping mud off her shoe against the chair leg. “I’ll see you in a couple hours, then.”

“Mm, see you then.”

She took a moment examining her shoes after they hung up and decided it would be best to change them before she left. Wouldn’t want to be tracking mud through Solhadur’s halls.

---

She couldn’t entirely bite back a laugh when she arrived and found Red behind his desk, the pencil woven between his fingers tapping against one of the three books open across the desk’s surface. “Well, I just lost a five lyss wager.”

“Huh?” His hair fell in his eyes when he looked up. “Over what?”

Xaeryn smiled as she leaned against the edge of the desk. “I was certain you would get carried away with jawing about whatever your lecture was on and I would be here first. Fortunately it was a wager with myself” --she leaned over to peek at what he was reading--”so there’s no real loss.”

Red laughed and nudged one of the books toward her. “Normally you would have won. I thought of something I wanted to double-check before you got here, so I made sure to end on time. The students thank you for that, by the way.”

She snickered and skimmed through the presented history text. “They’re most welcome. What did you learn?”

Red pushed out of his chair and circled the desk to give them the same angle on the book she held. “There’s a decade or so immediately after its loss that’s unaccounted for, but there are records from travelers who mention encountering a warlord deep in Jalis territory with a pendent that sounds an awful lot like Solimer’s torch. Here.” He leaned over to flip a few pages back from where she was and pointed at a sketched illustration.

While rudimentary in nature, it did bear a striking resemblance to the photographs Mr. Syndran had given her. Xaeryn hummed a quiet agreement, noting the sketched pendent seemed to be on an armband rather than loose as it was now, as she started reading the relevant text around the illustration. 

“Lean on details,” she frowned, tracing a finger over the words as she read.

“That one is,” Red agreed. “They were more concerned with other things, barely mention the pendent in their description of the warlord. It’s just the only one with an illustration.” He tugged the book away from her, swapped it for one of the others. “Going off the description, I think this is the same piece. But you can draw your own conclusions.” He sat in one of the chairs and Xaeryn stayed perched on the edge of the desk, one foot swinging idly a few inches off the ground as she read.

From the sound of it--bronze coiled around a jet black stone, said to be its owner’s lucky talisman--she was inclined to agree with Red.  The territory of this warlord, however, was rather far from the usual routes ascribed to the Solimer’s desert travels. How did it get there? she mused. Likely during the decade it had vanished, but she couldn’t even begin to guess the method. She’ was just finishing with the account when she caught Red smiling out of the corner of her eye.

She let the book dip to look at him instead. “What?”

Red’s eyes twinkled as he nodded at the hem of her mid-calf skirt. “That lead you mentioned chasing earlier wouldn’t have involved mud puddles, would it?”

Xaeryn followed his gaze and groaned at the mud staining the dusky rose fabric. “I wasn’t expecting him to run,” she muttered, flicking at the mud with one hand as she moved to the other chair.

“Your suspects usually just wait around, obligingly, for you to interrogate them, then?” 

She rolled  her eyes at his teasing tone and briefly debated whacking him with the book. “He wasn’t a suspect, he was a witness,” she retorted primly, setting the book back on his desk. “Potentially. Though with how cagey he was being, it wouldn’t surprise me if he was guilty of something.”

“A mystery for another day,” Red said with a grin.

“Precisely. As for today’s mystery, have you found anything more recent than this?” She tapped the book. “It’s still several hundred years ago.”

“Not much, and some of it’s contradictory; that’s part of why I said in person was better.” He ran one hand through his hair. “That territory is so deep in the Jalis desert, not many go there and come out again. Those who don’t live there frequently die visiting.”

“Charming place,” Xaeryn said dryly.

“Mmhm. It makes getting records difficult, to say the least. There’s a mention of this warlord’s territory being conquered by another, but no mention of what was taken as potential spoils, and the next thing I’ve found resembling Solimer’s torch is is when it was discovered in the grave of a different chieftain, name unknown--though there are theories--a hundred years ago and almost two hundred miles from where the nearest previous records indicated it being.”

“How’s a chieftain’s name unknown?” she frowned. 

“He was buried with the honors afforded warlords and chieftains, but any record of his identity had worn off in the desert wind, if it was there in the first place,” Red explained.

“And these theories about who he was?” 

“Numerous and with various levels of support,” he said wryly. “But if you want the longer version...?”

Xaeryn chuckled. “Always.” 

They spent the next hour or so discussing the myriad guesses people had made as to this mystery chieftain’s name, as well as the other details Red had unearthed about the pendent, and various sources’ credibility. They only got caught up in one or two rabbit trails of good-natured debate over peer review and scholarly reputation or historical patterns of desert travel. (Which was pretty good for them.)

“There are a lot of gaps,” Red acknowledged, thumbing the pages of one book. “But I have a lot more I can read to help with filling them in.” He twirled one hand to gesture at the shelves that lined the room.

“You don’t have to-”

“Xaeryn, have you ever known me to be unhappy reading a book?” he asked with a warm smile.

“Well, no,” Xaeryn laughed. “But you’re so busy now, Headmaster.”

Red arched a brow but didn’t further protest her use of the title. “I always have time for you,” he said with a shrug, then cleared his throat and pushed to his feet even as her heart pounded and she sternly informed herself he hadn’t meant it like that. (She was grateful his circling the desk meant he missed the moment of broken composure that surely flashed across her face.) “And research is even more fun when it’s for a purpose. Bottom line for you so far...” He picked up his dropped pencil and started shuffling through everything on his desk in search of paper.

She grinned and held out her notepad. “Here.”

He flashed a sheepish smile as he took it. “Thank you.” He flipped to the first blank page and started writing as he talked. “Descendants of either that unknown chieftain or the one whose wife originally found the torch would have the strongest claims of ownership.”

“If I can find them,” Xaeryn said dryly. “And if one of them’s not already the owner on record who lent the pendent to the exhibit.” She bit her lower lip. “I think I need to talk to Mr. Syndran again.”

And depending on what he told her, her own research into genealogy might be called for.

“Probably your best next step.” Red finished writing and handed back her notepad, several pages scrawled with bullet-points summation of what he’d found.  “Here you go.”

“Thank you.” Xaeryn smiled when she saw the notes were in their shorthand.  “Nice touch.”

He smiled and raised one shoulder in a shrug. “It takes less space, and you did say this is a secret...”

“Very true.” She flipped the pad closed and tucked it back in her handbag. “I really do appreciate your help, this wasn’t a a small request, and you got me some answers in very short order.”

“I’m not done reading, Xaeryn,” Red said, voice rife with amusement. He waved at the surrounding shelves again. “Like I said, there’s a lot more to check.”

I always have time for you.

“As long as you don’t mind, I would love to hear anything else you learn,” Xaeryn said with a smile. Far be it from her to stand between Liefred Antiqua and a research project he was excited about. She’d sooner snatch an ice cream away from a child. 

“I’ll call if I find anything else useful,” Red promised, already shifting toward one bookshelf.

She nodded, biting back a laugh and hoping he had a very loose definition of the word ‘useful’. “I’ll look forward to that, then.” Her neck and ears warmed and she hastily added, “more information is always helpful.” She stood, flicking at the stubborn mud on her skirt again. Next time she went interview-hunting, she was wearing trousers. “Though you have me off to an excellent start.” She headed for the door, paused with her hand on the knob. “Thank you for that, Liefred.”

“Anytime.” He leaned against the corner of his desk. “You can still call me Red, y’know, Xaeryn. Everyone does, so it’s hardly going to seem too familiar.”

True as that might be here at Solhadur, Haven was a different story. And she wouldn’t want to slip up. “I’ll keep that in mind,” Xaeryn said softly. “Until next time?”

“Mm-hm.” Something flickered in his eyes as he rubbed the back of his neck, then flashed her an easy smile. “I’ll look forward to it, then. I’m glad we reconnected.”

She smiled back as she twisted the knob. “Me, too.”

She didn’t have many friends, it was good to get one of the best ones back.

---

It was edging toward evening when Xaeryn made it back to her office. Which made it a bit of a surprise --fortuitous as it was-- to find Mr. Syndran waiting for her.

“Did we have a meeting I forgot about?” she asked apologetically as she unlocked the door. (They hadn’t, she was positive, but it was a diplomatic way of probing for why he was here.)

“We did not,” Mr. Syndran replied, arching a brow in a knowing look. “I had some other business in the area and decided to stop by in person to see how you are coming along, Miss Shrike.”

Xaeryn laughed and gestured toward the same chair he’d sat in on his first visit. “Then you have very good timing, instincts, or both, Mr. Syndran. I had some things I wanted to ask you; background information.”

His brow creased ever so slightly. “Should you not be far beyond mere background information? Have you not made progress?”

She sighed and sat in her chair behind the desk, pulling her notepad from her handbag and turning to a blank page. “Not of the ‘I’ve narrowed it down to two blocks, I just don’t know which house’ variety, no.” She tapped her pen against the desk. “But I have leads on suspects.”

Syndran gave a grunt that may have been displeasure. “And your questions for me?”

“Like I said; clarifying background information. When the Couriers were contracted to handle transport, how much were you told about the pieces?”

“Only the relevant details.” He brushed invisible lint off his sleeve. “Each one’s value, recorded owner, any special care instructions.”

Xaeryn nodded, pen poised over her pad. “I don’t suppose you recall the owner listed for the pendent?”

He paused to think a moment. “I’d have to have my secretary check to be completely certain, but I believe it was a Ms. Aescar. The name didn’t ring any bells for me.”

“And would I need to speak with the Hall of History and Culture if I wanted to find out how to contact her, or do you know?”

Syndran shook his head. “Whitestone Couriers were merely transporting the relics, Miss Shrike. Any communication with the owners was the concern of the museum curators. Why would you need to talk to her?”

“I might not,” Xaeryn said, scribbling the information down. “I just like to have all my chickens in the coop ahead of time, so there’s no scrambling if something winds up time-sensitive down the road.”

“Smart.” Syndran gave a nod of approval. “So long as you don’t spend so much time preparing for unlikely eventualities that you lose more promising leads.”

She back back a tart ‘I know how to do my job’ and nodded. “Of course.”

He paused a moment, lips pursed in thought. “I did have a wonder, Miss Shrike.”

Xaeryn cocked her head. “Oh?”

“Given the... likelihood this theft occurred somewhere between city customs and the museum and the utter lack of details my drivers have been able to provide about that stretch of the journey” --his expression soured-- “would it be possible for you to... revisit the scene with your abilities?” His brows arched meaningfully.  “You are Argentis, are you not? The benefit of hindsight might allow you to pick up on something relevant that didn’t register in the moment for my people.”

She tapped her pen against her notepad. “I can give it a go, Mr. Syndran, but I’m more a Scryer than a Sage; my strongest talent is finding things in the present, not viewing the past. Though this is the recent past,” she mused. “Perhaps recent enough that with a focus from the caravan I’d have decent luck.”

“I’ll see what I can find for you.” Mr. Syndran pushed to his feet. “Anything in particular that will work best?”

“For viewing the past like this... something from the event is necessary, and the closer to central it is, the clearer a picture I’ll be able to get.” She leaned back in her chair. “Frankly, if you don’t mind my doing so, coming to the Couriers’ garage and using one of the trucks as my touchstone would work best.”

“Oh, that’s very doable,” he said with a nod. “As it’s getting late, what say we do it tomorrow?”

“Nine AM?” Xaeryn suggested.

“Acceptable.” He headed for the door. “I shall see you then, Miss Shrike.”

“See you then, Mr. Syndran.” Xaeryn waited until the door closed behind him to let out a slow breath. Scrying was easy enough, even if she didn’t always succeed, but peering into the past was usually a draining exercise for her. Mr. Syndran was correct, though; it was very likely the best way to glean new leads. Even if it meant she’d need a nap after.

She pushed to her feet and locked the door. One more glance over her notes before she called it a night. So it was fresh in her mind and she could mull it over.

She tried not to get too distracted by the difference between her small, crowded shorthand and Red’s larger, loose scrawl--he had a dreamer’s handwriting, which she’d teased him about when they were younger(he’d rolled his eyes but hadn’t denied it). The memory had her smiling all through dinner.

---

The weather was nice enough the next day Xaeryn opted to walk to the Whitestone Couriers’ garage, though she did take an umbrella in case the rain that hadn’t threatened the last few days decided to make an appearance. Mr. Syndran was waiting for her, looking all the more proper in these rough-shod surroundings. 

“Right on time, Miss Shrike,” he said with a tight smile. “This way.” He led her at a brisk pace to a gleaming black truck, the canvas cover a near-immaculate tan. “This is the one that was carrying the crate with the pendent, among other things.”

“Right.” Xaeryn circled to the passenger side, letting her fingers trail over the cool metal until they rested on the door. “I can’t make any promises, but let’s see if we can find anything useful.”

She pressed her hand flat against the side of the truck and murmured the correct ritual, felt her magic rise to do as she bade.

The scene around her--Mr. Syndran, the garage, everything but the truck--faded into shadow. Her view shifted, as if she were riding shotgun in the truck or hanging out the window as it crept through Haven’s streets. Tings were flickery and dim, the colors bled out and faded as she looked around. I don’t know how long I can hold this. Xaeryn peered intently at  what she could see of the surroundings, the other vehicles, the people, buildings, noting everything she could, no matter how mundane. A woman with a red hat, brim hiding most of her face. A young boy and his dog watching the caravan with interest. A man with vivid green eye and a small smile lounging against a wall, following the trucks’ progress from under his slouched cap. The cat that almost darted in front of the preceding truck before it spooked. The flapper with an armful of bracelets, glancing surreptitiously across the street-

The scene flickered sharply, her grasp on the ritual fading, the images slipping away--

And Xaeryn was back in the garage, leaning against the truck as her knees went to jelly. The few prior occasions she’d played the sage had left her feeling like she stood up too fast when they ended, and this was no exception.

“Are you alright, Miss Shrike?” Mr. Syndran gestured to a nearby worker who’d stopped to gawp and the man scuttled off.

“Just fine,” she said with a nod, turning to sit on the truck’s running board as she tugged out her notepad and rapidly scrawled out everything she’d seen. “Sage work can be taxing if it’s not your main talent, that’s all.”

He watched in silence as she scribbled down the vision’s contents, only speaking again when she finished. “Did you see anything of note?”

“Nothing too blatant, or it would have stood out even to the drivers,” Xaeryn said, leaning her head back against the truck. “But there were some passers-by that caught my attention...”

Mr. Syndran listened to her descriptions with utmost focus, but interrupted when she reached the green-eyes lounger. “Do you remember any other details about him?” he demanded, his hands twitching to a fractionally tighter grip on the head of his walking stick.

“Tall,” Xaeryn said slowly. The worker Syndran had sent away returned with a tumbler of water, which she accepted with a nod of thanks as she dug through the memory. “I think brown hair, but he was wearing a hat. Bright red vest, blue and green scarf ‘round his neck-”

“Thieves guild,” Syndran muttered. Despite the distaste on the words, a panther-like grin curved his lips. “I should have known.” The distaste shifted to satisfaction. “That would be your next lead, Miss Shrike.”

Xaeryn arched a brow. “Do tell.”

“Thieves guild has been a thorn in our side for years,” Syndran explained, “They aren’t even a true guild; more a loose association of ruffians and cutpurses who only call themselves such in another jape at legitimate businesses.” He sniffed. “They make their base in the warrened streets of Ashtown, but I believe I have worked out where their true headquarters are concealed. I can give you some direction, if you’re recovered enough to follow me to my office?”

She nodded, pushed to her feet. “Lead the way.”

It was good to have something tangible to pursue. Hopefully the weather would hold so she could follow it up now. Ashtown was no fun in the rain.

[fotiathymos]

VULCAN VS LIO DELETED SCENE.

More under cut along with analysis/script. Warning this is a long post!

REUPLOADED CAUSE TUMBLR HATES ME.

(I apologize that the quality of photos changes. It not me its tumblr, I swear!)

Script recap of scene: (takes place right after the Burnish are freed from prison, this is an extension to that scene. It takes place right before the lake scene with Aina and Galo.)

START OF SCRIPT TRANSCRIPT

EXT. INNER COURTYARD

All the gaurds can’t move either from the fire walls or being frozen.

The captured Burnish get on the fireproof helicopter.

Gueira sits in the cockpit. Lio is instructing.

LIO: Okay, go.

The helicopter takes off.

*SUBURB, SKY

The fireproof helicopter is flying with Lio’s group in it.

Three fighter jets are pursuing them.

It is Vulcan leading the Freeze Force in their tactical aircrafts.

Gueira notices them.

GUEIRA: Boss, we got someone on our tail.

LIO: Must be Freeze Force.

VULCAN: You never know when to give up, Burnish!

The tactical aircrafts are in range to shoot.

VULCAN: You can’t shake us off at that speed.

Vulcan locks on. He fires freezing missiles.

Then, the entire helicopter is enveloped in flames. It melts the ice on the freezing missiles. Lio’s flames had enveloped the helicopter.

VULCAN: What?!

Then, the back of the burning helicopter emits flames with great force. It increases the speed of the helicopter.

VULCAN: Tch!

Vulcan’s three jets also increase speed. Then, the helicopter shoots a fiery shell. It’s aiming for Subordinate 1′s jet.

SUBORDINATE 1: Damn it!

He barely dodges. But the firery shell changes direction and pierces the aircraft.

Subordinate 1 ejects. His parachute opens.

VULCAN: What?!

It turns out the fiery shell was Lio. Lio is enveloped by a fiery ball, emitting flames like a jet, flying.

While Lio is dealing with the jets, the helicopter escapes.

VULCAN: He can fly?

Flames come out of fiery Lio’s arms, becoming swords. They slice Subordinate 2′s fighter jet into two.

SUBORDINATE 2: Aaaghh!

Subordinate 2 ejects.

VULCAN: He’s evolved that much, eh?

Lio pulls the canopy off of Vulcan’s jet.

LIO: Tell the governor the Burnish are free. We won’t let you and the Foundation do as you please. I’m taking back my comrades who were hurt.

VULCAN: Did you get caught on purpose?

LIO: Thanks for the help.

Lio flies away.

VULCAN: Come back here!

Just when Vulcan tries to increase speed, the fiery ball at the injection port explodes. It destroys the injection port. Lio had placed it there.

VULCAN: Damn it!

Vulcan ejects as well. He descends in his parachute.

VULCAN: That kid better not get too cocky.

His expression is a bit sly.

END SCRIPT TRANSCRIPT

( Yes I did type and copy that all out from the book .-. )

If you did not notice. Both scenes are Vulcan vs Lio but one is in the air entirely and the other on the ground mostly.

I’ll semi-describe the storyboard scene.

-----

The Burnish are exiting the prison when spot lights shine directly on Lio. An armored vehicle comes crashing through the halls and out the exit, headed straight for the Burnish. Lio runs straight for it.

Vulcan is driving the vehicle. It has a claw attached to the front. The claw raises, prepared to grab Lio. Lio doesn’t stop running straight to the moving vehicle. Right before the claw clamps down, Lio jumps up. Lio flies up into the air. Vulcan seems startled and the vehicles wheels flatten and stop from moving. The flatten wheels bring the vehicle up into the air after Lio.

Fire balls seem to shoot at the vehicle’s front claw. Blinding the veiw of Vulcan. Vulcan looks up from a sky roof in the vehicle only to see Lio skyrocketing above him and then coming  straight back down with several firey attacks. Lio aims for the wheels and busts them.

The vehicle starts to smoke and come crashing down. Vulcan is shown peeking out as he falls with an very angry expression.

Another armored vehicle comes out of the prison door below, seemingly ready to fire at the Burnish still on the ground. Suddenly Vulcan’s vehicle comes crashing into it from the air.

Vulcan grumbling out of the rubble of the two crashed vehicles, suddenly notices Lio. Lio is above them, flying, with a stern look on his face. At this point it mimics the script in which Lio tells Vulcan, “ Tell the governor the Burnish are free. We won’t let you and the Foundation do as you please. I’m taking back my comrades who were hurt. “

It then shows a helicopter flying away from the prison, most likely the Burnish rescued. Vulcan grumbles more.

-----

SO. Now thoughts. You can stop reading if you just wanted to see the storyboards deleted scene and the scripts deleted scene.

I understand why they took out this scene but it seems they really wanted it to happen. The storyboards are fleshed out much more then some other deleted scenes and they even had it in the script! It would have shown more power and leadership to Lio’s character and really undermine Vulcan. I almost wish it was included cause then Vulcan beating up Lio restlessly after getting him the with freezing bullet later in the movie would’ve complimented his rage towards Lio.

But of’course, it wasn’t vital. It disrupted the flow in a way. And we do get Vulcan fighting Lio many more times. I think Trigger just was being Trigger and wanted cool fight air scene? I don’t have much of a preference between the script’s scene or the storyboarded scene. I almost enjoy the scripts more cause Gueira has more lines/importance. But Meis still doesn't or is even mentioned? (Though according the lore the leadership ranking is Lio > Gueira > Meis.)

The scene gives the rebellion of the Mad Burnish and the movement to free their people more flesh. Lio’s small speech of ‘tell the gov to suck it and also you suck it too’ was just perfect. Also showing more of Lio’s immense power is a plus!

It also seems like Lio being able to fly is a rarity. Another nudge to his power. I was honestly shocked in theatres when I first saw him flying with groceries in hand. They don’t show anyone else flying but they also don’t show any other Burnish attack much besides the Mad Burnish trio. (Not so much counting the Pizza Man since he just kind of blocked with flames more so then attacked)

There is a lot of things left unshown/unexplored with how Burnish flames work. But also if most Burnish are tortured/captured/told to feel shame for their flames.. they probably don’t try to use it much. This is also why I feel Kray had to have had some sort of practice room/area where he burned and used his flames to gain such power to rival Lio. Lio was forced to learn and adapt to his Promare and use its powers for survival of him and his people. Kray had no threats to his life and had to have had some secret evil lair in the earths core just burning pictures of Galo for practice.

I do enjoy they still take note and care in showing that Lio isn't trying to outright kill anyone. Guards are blocked off or frozen with their own guns. Lio has the pilots eject from their seats and land with parachutes.

All in all this scene played out in either way would’ve been highly enjoyed if it was included in the film! But it understandably was cut out. We can’t have everything! If we did well......................... lets not get into that.

I never know how to end these posts so thank you for reading again! My ask box is open for requests to see other storyboard/script scenes! And please share your thoughts! Everyone sees things differently!

SORRY FOR THE REUPLOAD

[5saucefanfic]

More - LH

HAPPY VICTORIA FASHION SHOW DAY! Kisses to all. Hope you enjoy the show and a bit of Luke too

She stretched her arms wide, loud yawn escaping her before dropping her arms heavily onto the comforter surrounding her body. The sun peeked through her shades that were half drawn, sunlight illuminating the floor in front of her large bed, pillows strewn every which way due to her overnight guest not wanting to drown in the soft cushions she seemed to enjoy collecting in her spare time, a new square piece of fabric collected from different places she had visited, the names scrawled out in the lovely fabric they were made out of.

She looked to her left seeing the bed empty, a frown falling onto her lips until the smell from the kitchen came wafting its way into her room, legs quickly swinging over the side of the bed, feet padding along the hardwood floor of her apartment until she saw the curly locks of her boyfriend’s hair, bare back facing her as she could easily count the numerous freckles scattered across his back. She was surprised he was up so early, flight not having got in until late the previous night, yet here he was.

“Morning,” she mumbled softly, arms wrapping around his waist from behind as she placed a small kiss to the center of his back, fingers rubbing his stomach lightly as she felt him relax even more so than he seemed to be. Her New York home had always been an escape for him, “a home away from home, away from home” as he liked to call it, and even though it was easy to become overwhelmed in the city that never sleeps, it was easy for him to get lost as well and be just Luke Hemmings. There were nearly 2 million people in Manhattan, and not nearly half of them knew of his existence.

“Morning, love,” he said turning to face her pressing his lips to her softly and quickly. “Made your favorite for the big day.” The big day, probably one of the most important and prominent days of her life at that moment. Not only was this going to be her first Victoria’s Secret fashion show, but she was getting wings as well, not something that every model that’s walked the runway can say.

Her career took off rather quickly within the last two years, starting as a catalogue model for small brands, to somehow booking gigs with the parent and daughter company of VS. She’d ditched her vans for heels, small town friends for big names like Gigi Hadid and Kendall Jenner, small town apartment to one right in the heart of NYC. There were many things she could compare and contrast her previous life to, but the best would have to be the blue eyed beauty right in front of her, making her blueberry pancakes and bacon to celebrate a day that was probably just as important for him. Not only was his girlfriend about to walk in one of the biggest fashion shows of the year, but he was performing with his three best friends. That was something to celebrate as well.

“What time do you have to meet with the boys for soundcheck?” she asked as she set the table, Luke finishing the plating of the food, carrying them to the table where she was sat waiting for him already.

“Three, then we have to get ready for the carpet,” he said nodding. “Probably won’t see you again until we’re on the runway, right?” he asked as she nodded shoveling two cakes onto her plate, piling them up with butter.

“Really shouldn’t be eating this,” she said laughing softly as he smiled wide, his smile only growing as a small moan left her throat. Yeah, maybe she shouldn’t be eating it, but it calms her nerves ever so slightly, just enough to be able to kiss her boyfriend goodbye and usher him out the door. It calms her nerves enough to slide on the YSL black jumpsuit Luke had brought for her, a gift from him for her big day, matching black booties accompanying her feet as she sat for hair and makeup in her dining room, Nala perched in her lap curled into a ball taking a nap. The comfort slowly fading as she became more and more anxious, knowing she was about to walk the carpet lonesome, her own doing wanting to keep her relationship with Luke a secret.

‘Just until i can prove I did this on my own,’ she had said to him over the phone during a late night argument over the phone...late night for her, midday for him considering he had been in Japan at the time, just starting his tour for album number 3. ‘I want to make a name for myself, and as much as I want everyone to know, I want them to know after I’m the next Gigi.’

‘You aren’t gonna be the next Gigi baby...you’re gonna be Y/n, which is a hell of a lot better than a Gigi.’

He had more faith in her at the time than she had in herself, and she couldn’t thank him enough for it all.

“I’m gonna do it,” Luke said as he tested his mic during their soundcheck, the venue for the show finishing the last minute preparations before the carpet started. Calum was standing next to him testing the sound of his bass in his ears.

“And you’re sure she wants you to?” He asked chuckling softly as Luke shrugged slightly. If he was being honest, he was worrying about it a bit and whether or not she’d be royally pissed off at him if he so publicly spilled their secret on national television during one of her biggest moments, but then they couldn’t say he had gotten her to that point.

“She technically said we can announce it after she makes it big like this, and if the fashion show isn’t big then I don’t know what we’re waiting for..” he said shrugging slightly.

“Fair enough, but just know she may be a little irritated,” he said shrugging as Michael and Ashton came out onto the stage. “Hey guys, what do you think about Luke kissing Y/n as she walks down the runway?”

“Go big or go home right?” Ashton asked chuckling. “Besides, why not? Didn’t Adam Levine do that before?”

“Technically it was her cheek,” Calum said pointing to both of them. “And I bet you right now that he had to ask special permission to do something like that.”

“Why? That gets more ratings! And if they hate it, they can edit it out. It’s not like they’re showing it right no-,” Ashton rebutted, Luke quickly stopping them as he sighed shaking his head quickly regretting his decision to bring it up with his friends. It wasn’t anything like what he was expecting, and it absolutely wasn’t their problem. Luke knew what he wanted to do, and what he was going to do.

“Just shut up and let’s get this going so I can shower,” he sighed shaking his head making his way back to his mic stand.

The pink carpet. Not JUST the pink carpet, but in the heart of New York City, with Jelena Hadid attached to her arm as they posed for pictures, the photographers and journalists shouting questions at the two like rapidfire, along with the overwhelming flashes of the camera.

“Gi, where’s Zayn? Are you two on another break?”

“Y/n, rumor has it Luke Hemmings of 5 Seconds of Summer spent the night. Comment?”

“Gigi”

“Y/n”

Over and over as she tried to ignore the questions being thrown at them. “It’s best to just ignore and smile pretty,” Gigi whispered to her as they made it down the line of the carpet, her nerves only intensifying as they got closer and closer to the dressing room, which meant she was only getting closer and closer to walking down the runway.

“You’re gonna do amazing, y/n,” Kendall said standing next to her friend who was getting done in her hair and makeup, dressed for her dark angel’s appearance, one of her favorite parts of the show and she was more than honored to be a part of it. And it only helped that the boys would be playing during that part, easing her nerves. “I was in your position only three years ago. Just take your time. Don’t walk too fast. And have fun.”

“And we’ll both be right off to the side waiting for you to get off, okay?” Gigi asked as she nodded sliding off her chair, adjusting the bra straps before letting the artist attach the wings to her back. “You look amazing.”

“I love you both,” she said happily hugging both Gigi and Kendall before making her way to the side of the stage jumping in her place in line, taking a deep breath as she heard the beat to More start playing, just another reason for her to relax.

She watched Luke singing from the side of the stage as girls slowly made their way out onto the runway, one by one, walking to the beat of her favorite song. She watched as girls she’s looked up to for years took the stage just before her; girls like Cindy Bruna, Adriana Lima, and Sara Sampaio, all models who were the reasons she trained so hard to aspire to be who she was now, walk just before her opening the segment. Lais Riberio was next, walking out just in front of her knowing she was up next, the camera coming up to her catching her moments before the stage as she waved at the camera as the set director queued her for her walk. She took another deep breath as she started her walk down the runway as the chorus started, eyes locking with Luke as a smirk came on his face not even trying to hide that fact he was blatantly checking her out on the runway. She blushed slightly smiling wide keeping her head up.

“All the things that we dream about, they don’t mean what they did before…,” he said holding his hand out to her as she made her way towards the center. “I just wanna get back to us cause we used to have more…” she rolled her eyes laughing softly as she made her way down smiling at the camera still holding Luke’s hand as he continued to sing. She let go of his hand when she got to the front, posing for the cameras as the fan blew on her, jumping slightly feeling an arm around her waist, turning to look to the side catching Luke’s lips against her own as she gasped slightly, Luke pulling back just as quick as it happened, winking at her before running back down the runway. She bit her lip softly hearing the cheers get louder as she turned, making her return trip as she bit her lip glaring at the blonde in front of her, another wink leaving him.

‘I hate you’ She mouthed to him.

‘No you don’t,’ he mouthed back before watching her walk backstage, Gigi and Kendall hugging her tightly as she laughed happily hugging them back tightly.

“So...Luke Hemmings?”

[frozenflash]

Better Latte Than Never

This was written for Day 3 of Coldflash week, Rogues vs Team Flash. It also conveniently works as a fill for the ‘Secret Relationship’ square of my Coldflash Bingo Card. Both are hosted by @coldflashweeks. This is just the first two scenes, the rest can be read on AO3.

Read on AO3

Summary: Something strange is going on with Barry and the Rogues. Cisco is determined to get to the bottom of it. Just as soon as he gets as handle on his caffeine addiction, that is.

Or, three times Cisco doesn’t understand why the Rogues keep pulling punches, and the one time it all makes sense.

1.

The comms had gone dark as soon as Hartley Rathaway showed up, so Cisco and the others had no way of knowing what was happening at the museum. It had looked good for Barry before they’d lost contact, but fights with the Rogues were always unpredictable and could turn on a dime. It was part of what made them so dangerous, and part of what made them so entertaining.

“Do you think he’s alright?” Caitlin asked, rubbing her thumb against her other palm. She was standing on the opposite side of the monitors, having just come in from the med bay when she heard Cisco cursing.

“His vitals haven’t changed,” Cisco reassured her. His eyes never left the screen through, fingers flying across the keyboard as he tried to reestablish a connection to the comms in Barry’s suit. Beside him, Harry waved an unbothered hand at Caitlin and went back to the book he was reading.

Caitlin let out a long breath and started to pace. She made it two lengths of the room before she was halted in place by a blur of red lightning that sent all the papers in the lab flying into the air.

Barry pulled off his cowl, out of breath. “They got away. But they didn’t get the diamond, so.”

Immediately moving closer to inspect him for any injuries, Caitlin frowned. She shared a look with Cisco, whose hands were now hovering above the keyboard. “What happened? The comms went out. Are you okay? Are you hurt?” she asked, looking Barry up and down.

Barry just shrugged, brushing off her concern. “I’m fine,” he said, running a hand through his hair. “No one got any shots in. Hartley showed up and took out my comms, and then we basically ended up in a stalemate until Cold distracted me. By the time I realized that’s what he was doing, the rest of them were already gone.”

Cisco watched as Caitlin let out a breath of relief, but didn’t find himself doing the same. He leaned back in his chair, peering at Barry over the monitors. A fight with five of the Rogues and no one got a shot in? Not that Cisco wanted Barry to get hurt, it’s just that it was unusual. Even with the unofficial deal they had going, The Flash vs. Cold’s gallery of rogues was always chaos. No one walked away without getting hit at least once, least of all Barry, who was always outnumbered even with his team backing him up from the labs.

Heading off to change back into his regular clothes, Barry clapped his shoulder as he passed and grinned at him. His cheeks were still flushed from the fight, and he looked more tired than usual, so it was clear that he hadn’t walked away from the museum without putting a decent effort into stopping the Rogues.

Cisco shook his head. What was he looking for? Proof that something else had gone down when the comms went dark? Barry had no reason to lie to them, and Cisco had no reason to think he would.

It was all the sleep he’d been losing since his vibes had gotten more frequent — it was getting to his head. Just that morning, he’d thought the barista at Jitters was a spy sent by one of their enemies to get intel on him and Caitlin, as members of Team Flash. Clearly, he wasn’t thinking straight.

He should probably cut down on the coffee, too.

2.

Cisco jumped through the breach, stepping off the ground in S.T.A.R. labs and landing in a loading dock in the warehouse district. It closed behind him with a swoosh, but he barely heard it over the sound of something blowing up only a few feet away. He rocked sideways from the force of the blast, but caught his footing.

The explosion had come from one of the transport trucks being launched backwards into the side of the building. Cisco couldn’t see from this angle who had done it, but Barry had to be nearby. He crouched low to the ground, rounding the now-destroyed truck as stealthily as he could—

And stopped. He blinked in confusion. The scene before him was chaos: half the warehouse was charred beyond recognition, the other half was coated in a thick layer of ice, and nearly every piece of equipment was… well, in pieces. It looked like the aftermath of a hurricane, if that hurricane had a maniacal laugh and enjoyed toying with teams of superheroes.

That wasn’t the confusing part. The confusing part was that there, in the middle of it all, stood Barry, unscathed and chatting with Captain Cold. Just standing there, three feet away from each other, Cold’s gun slung over his shoulder and Barry’s hands resting on his hips as he nodded his head along to whatever Cold was saying.

“Flash?” Cisco called out, not even bothering to hide his disbelief. He’d almost called him by his real name, before he remembered himself. The other Rogues could still be here, not all of which knew Barry’s identity. That had never sat right with Cisco — that Cold held something so massive over their heads and had yet to use it against them. Yet, he hadn’t. He’d stuck to their deal and never told a soul, as far as they knew.

Barry was caught off guard. He whirled around to face Cisco and opened his mouth, but Cold was faster. In the same instance, he’d drawn his gun, aimed it just beside Cisco’s head, and pulled the trigger. Racing forward to shove him out of the way, Barry only just made it time to save Cisco from an annoying case of frostbite.

It was like Cisco had pressed play on the paused scene — one of the other Rogues suddenly appeared out of nowhere and started destroying what was left of the place, Mick stepped out from wherever he’d disappeared to and resumed his mission to blow everything up, and the fight resumed.

Only, even as he dodged attack after attack, trying to keep Peek-A-Boo from making off with whatever it was they were here to steal, something felt off. He didn’t have time to dissect it while mid-fight, but it niggled at the back of his mind until they made it back to S.T.A.R labs, heist successfully prevented.

It wasn’t until he was in the med-bay with Caitlin fawning over the burn he’d sustained on his shoulder that he realized what it was. For as many punches as had been thrown on both sides, and as chaotic as the fight had been, Barry hadn’t suffered a single injury. He was always better at dodging than Cisco, given his speed, but in a fight of that scale, he should’ve at least been blown into a couple of walls. It was like…

It was like they hadn’t even been aiming for him. Like they’d been trying not to hit him.

Cisco frowned. He watched Barry fiddle with his phone at the computer station while Caitlin finished wrapping his shoulder.

Had he made some kind of deal with the Rogues they didn’t know about? But why wouldn’t he tell them?

He shook his head. It didn’t make any sense. He was probably just imagining things. Barry had been training harder than ever, so it was only logical that he would fair better in a fight. Besides, he’d fought the Rogues so many times that their movements should’ve been predictable to him by now.

While his sleep had gotten better lately, Cisco clearly still needed to finally bite the bullet and cut down on the caffeine. This was getting out of hand. Caitlin had even started making faces at him when she caught him with his fifth cup of the day, and this jittery paranoia was out of control.

Continue on AO3

[blancheludis]

A/N: @iron-man-bingo square: Tony vs. Air duct climbing!Clint

Fandom: Marvel, Avengers Tags: Fluff, Humors, 2012 Avengers, Team Bonding, Bets, Friendship Words: 4.102

Summary: Getting his eyebrows singed off once is not enough for Clint and he keeps trying to get into the workshop. Tony has fun thwarting his attempts. Naturally, they turn it into a war. 

---

Tony stumbles into the kitchen long after dinner is over, mind still mostly focused on the new repulsors but in dire need of new coffee. He is almost at the machine when he notices that he is not alone in the room. Sitting rather sullenly in his usual seat is Clint, arms crossed in front of him, glaring at Tony as if he has eaten the last piece of pizza out of the fridge.

A smile tugs on Tony’s lips. He fights against it for all of three seconds before he lets it spread, feels it turn into a smirk.

“What happened to your eyebrows, birdbrain?” he asks, decidedly nonchalant.

He knows. Of course, he does. As focused on his work as he usually is, JARVIS’ intruder alarm has ripped him out of his work easily. Finding the intruder had been just as simple. Taking just Clint’s eyebrows in revenge had at least been a fun challenge. No one wants the charred remains of a SHIELD archer in their vents, so precision was the key. It is a good thing he is practised at using his fine motor skills.

“Have you ever thought about not booby-trapping your vents like a paranoid misanthropist with more money than common sense?” Clint snaps. He raises a hand up to his face and it hovers over the place where his eyebrows used to be.

Tony would not have thought Clint to be vain. Maybe his forehead is still stinging.

“Wow, you just used much bigger words than I ever gave you credit for,” Tony replies and makes the last steps over to the coffee machine. He turns his back to Clint like there is nothing to worry about. “But have you ever thought about using the hallways instead of the vents like a complete maniac?”

For a moment, the gurgling of the coffee machine is the only sound in the room, and Tony watches it trickle into his mug with a hidden smile.

“It keeps me nimble,” Clint finally says. His tone is a mixture of a challenge and a sheepish admission.

“I’m not going to deign that with an answer,” Tony says, although he has a dozen ready on his tongue.

This whole vent-crawling thing has started as a joke about Clint going from the circus to being an assassin and combining the best of two worlds. Who would ever expect death to come from an air vent, after all. Clint naturally had to prove then that he could move exclusively through the vents if he wanted to. Since then, it has become a theme.

“What did you even want in the workshop?” Tony asks, picking up his filled mug.

Clint looks at him, unwilling to admit anything despite having been caught already. “I wanted to get a peek at the new bow.”

“What new bow?” Tony asks immediately, pretending not to know what Clint is talking about.

The problem with being the Avengers’ in-house mechanic is that they are constantly expecting new toys. Not always actively, but it is not a nice surprise anymore when Tony brings them new equipment. Tony was working on a new bow but moved on to at least seven other, more pressing projects since then.

“The one you’re building,” Clint answers slowly, rolling his eyes for good measure. “For me.”

Grumbling, Tony thinks he might have to pick that one up again. “And how would you know about that?”

“Natasha,” Clint answers promptly.

Of course. Even when there is nothing exciting to learn, Natasha still has to dig for secrets. It is as endearing as it is annoying.

“I should have known this would happen after inviting two spies to live with me,” Tony sighs, taking a sip of his coffee. “One can’t keep her nose out of my business, and the other crawls around in places not made for humans.”

Suddenly, a grin spreads on Clint’s face as he sits up straighter. “Then why are the vents so big?” he asks, a definite challenge in his voice. “It’s almost comfortable up there.”

Because, Tony thinks miserably, he is sometimes too dedicated to a joke, and since they need to make renovations more often than not, considering how happy the Avengers as a whole are to deal out property damage, it was not actually hard to modify the vent system enough to allow comfortable passage for nimble archers.

Tony would never admit that, though. He has a reputation to uphold, and it is already mostly in shambles.

“They’re only that big on your floor and in the common areas,” he replies, realizing too late this gives too much away. “Not anywhere else.” Definitely not over the workshop.

“That sounds deliberate.” Clint’s grin grows until it looks downright indecent, smug.

“Careful,” Tony cautions and keeps his face blank, “your brain has turned on. You should use your five minutes of near-intelligence and go bother someone else.”

That is probably unfair. None of the Avengers is stupid. That would defy the whole purpose of the team. They are not meant to follow orders but to create their own solutions.

“That’s –” Clint says, ready to fall into the bickering, but then he interrupts himself. “You do have a heart underneath all that armour.”

Tony blinks. He is not sure how Clint has deducted that from Tony’s offensive commentary. It is, in any case, a dangerous assumption. For all of them.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Tony says dismissively and turns toward the door with his mug in hand.

He is almost out of the kitchen when Clint calls after him. “Game’s on, Stark. Throw your worst at me, but I’ll get to see that bow.”

That offers a whole trove of opportunities for petty revenge and chaos-causing pranks. Tony likes the idea – even if that means he will have to put Clint’s bow on top of his work list again. He believes in his and JARVIS’ ability to keep Clint out, even with non-lethal measures, but if Clint gets in, Tony should have something to show.

“If I actually threw my worst at you,” Tony drawls, looking at Clint with exaggerated boredom, “they wouldn’t even have to pick your pieces out of the vents because you’d be vaporized. Perhaps I’ll keep a little stain in loving memory.”

Clint, the maniac, laughs, despite knowing full well that Tony is telling the truth. “Then throw your non-lethal, non-maiming worst at me.”

Sighing, Tony nods. “You really take the fun out of this sport. But all right, you’re on.”

It begins simple enough.

Tony has bars appearing in random parts of the ventilation system, keeping Clint either locked out or in. Alarms blare when Clint makes even a single step towards the vents. Things go missing. All kinds of traps have to be disarmed before Clint can go on his merry way.

In return, Clint makes a game of leaving things in Tony’s rooms or the workshop. Food or broken arrowheads or Tony’s favourite blanket that went missing several weeks ago.

Tony tries to keep Clint out, while Clint tries to leave increasingly outrageous proof that he did, indeed, get in.

The only one who notices is Natasha, although both Tony and Clint make her swear not to intervene. Winning this is a matter of pride, and they have no doubt she would end this in five seconds flat – although they cannot seem to agree on in whose favour. Probably her own.

One night, Tony steps out of the workshop for five minutes for a bathroom break and a coffee refill. When he comes back, a still hot pizza is waiting on his workbench, sitting there as innocently as if Tony has brought it himself. None of the alarms has been triggered, no archer-shaped stains are left behind.

Tony sits down and, not even bothering with having JARVIS scan the pizza, eats a slice. It is good and hot and definitely not supposed to be here.

Once he is done, Tony carefully puts the workshop on complete lockdown, and goes to find Clint. He does not even have to look for long. Clint is sitting in the living room, draped over the couch as if he has not moved in hours. There is a bit of soot stuck to his temple, though, and his breathing is a little bit too even to be natural.

Building himself up in the door, Tony glares. “You did not get into the workshop,” he declares because he knows that as fact, at least.

This is still Tony’s sanctuary, still the place where he works on delicate and classified projects. No matter the game they are playing, Tony would not let Clint run rampage in the workshop, not even under JARVIS supervision. So, he knows Clint did not get in, which still leaves him without explanation for the pizza.

“I might have,” Clint counters with a grin, stretching further on the couch.

“You have not,” Tony argues with all the conviction he has. “Not a single particle of your skin.”

He just barely manages not to get closer to check Clint for burns or other signs that he has breached the invisible barrier between the vent and the workshop.

“My fingertip still hasn’t grown back from the last time I tried,” Clint mutters, staring down at his left hand with dismay.

He makes it sound more dramatic than it was. Tony has anti-thievery measures in place. It could have, potentially, taken Clint’s hand, but Clint had been very careful in sticking his fingers through the gaps of the vent, and Tony would not leave them with a one-armed archer. That would just be a waste.

“So how did you get a whole pizza on my workbench, and mostly intact at that?” Tony asks, fighting the urge to cross his arms in front of him. There is no need to feel defensive. Clint has not won yet since he has neither gotten into the workshop nor can he have glimpsed at the specs for his new bow, which Tony is keeping in an even more secure location, just in case.

“Trader’s secret.” Clint’s grin grows ever more smug, at least right until it freezes, pushed off his face by a frown. “What do you mean with mostly intact?

Tony opens his mouth, ready to spin a tale so he will not lose any more points to Clint. Then he shrugs. “The pepperonis were missing on one half.”

It looked deliberate enough, that it cannot be mistaken for coincidence or a mistake.

Mirth is playing in Clint’s eyes as he fights to keep his laughter in. “I got hungry.”

That implies he has been lying in wait for Tony to leave the workshop. He cannot have been there for long, though, since the pizza was still hot. None of this makes sense, but it only pushes Tony to step up his game.

“That’s –” Tony trails off, then shrugs, “not surprising.”

They share a look, full of challenge and the sweet joy of victory.

“Anyway, that’s a point for me,” Clint brags, showing too many teeth. “Perhaps you should just give up now.”

If Tony would have needed an encouragement to keep going, this would have been it. “Never,” he smiles and gets back to work.

 ---

That night, Clint’s screams echo through the tower. Bruce, who is in the workshop with Tony, freezes immediately, always expecting the worst. He does not look reassured in the least when Tony only smiles at the sound.

“What happened?” Bruce asks, already suspicious. “Why are you laughing?”

The simple answer would be that Tony has set a new trap and Clint fell into it without any delay at all. Justice served truly is the sweetest thing in the world.

“Don’t worry,” Tony says, probably causing the exact opposite, “Clint’s fine, if probably a bit cold right now.”

Before Bruce can ask any more questions, JARVIS speaks up. “Agent Barton wants to talk to you,” he announces, sounding just as smug as his creator feels.

Clapping his hands, Tony abandons their work without a second thought. “Put him through,” he orders excitedly. “Better yet, turn on the camera. I need to see this.”

Seconds later, Clint appears on the screen in front of them, big enough to show his dripping misery in all its glory. He looks like a drowned dog, hair plastered to his forehead, clothes clinging to his back. He is standing in a rapidly growing puddle, body tense to keep from shivering. The intensity of his glare in almost enough to burn Tony through the camera.

This scene, he decides, is beautiful.

“How?” Clint presses out between clenched teeth.

“How what?” Tony counters immediately, barely keeping himself from laughing out loud. He is so going to save a picture of this for later. “My, you seem a little wet,” he adds as if he has only just noticed. “I didn’t think it was raining outside – or that you ever go outside like a normal human being.”

Tony has a hundred more quips ready but bites his tongue to keep himself from using them. There will be time for them later. He plans on besting Clint far more often, and while he does not think he will ever run out of witty one-liners, it does not hurt to be prepared.

“How did you manage to build in a secret door in the vents right over the exit to my room?” Clint specifies, actually trembling now, although Tony is hard-pressed to say whether it is from cold or fury. “In the two hours since I last used it?”

It definitely has not been easy, but he is a Stark. Making the impossible possible is basically his day job.

Next to him, Bruce eyes them, wide-eyed and incredulous, but with tell-tale signs of exhaustion creeping onto this face. He is definitely tired of dealing will all of their shenanigans.

“Trader’s secret,” Tony answers, tasting the perfect sweetness of this comeback. “Also, how did you know it hasn’t always been there?”

From a strategical point of view, it makes sense to have countermeasures in place against all of his fellow Avengers. Tony does not think they are going to turn against him any time soon, not without being pushed into it, but it does not make sense to give Clint nearly free roam of the tower without being able to stop him easily.

Clint’s glare grows condescending. “I heard the mechanism when I opened the door,” he explains unwillingly. “That hasn’t been there before.”

That is a flaw, Tony realizes. If the guy with hearing aids can hear his trap mechanism, Tony has not done a good enough job of it, no matter how limited his time has been and that the trap worked beautifully nonetheless.

“Aren’t you attentive,” Tony drawls, mentally redesigning the whole thing. If he does not, chances are Clint will not fall for it again if it is needed at a later time.

Taking a step forward, Clint’s image grows on the screen. Tony can see goosebumps on the archer’s arms.

“There were ice cubes in there,” Clint says, voice full of accusation.

Tony hums and bites his cheek to not lose it right here. “Well, you’ve been so excited earlier, that I thought you might need to cool down a bit.”

It is Clint’s own fault, really. He challenged Tony to do better. He should know better than to bait Tony Stark.

“My whole bed is wet,” Clint continues, looking down at himself as if he still cannot believe what has happened.

Tony clicks his tongue. “You usually sleep in your nest in the cupboard anyway.”

Just as he thought, Clint’s head whips up, looking first at him then at the cupboard with instant suspicion. Tony has not hidden another trap in Clint’s room, but it is entirely all right with him if Clint thinks he has.

“Did you do something to that too?”

Now, Tony does laugh. “Do I need to?”

Eyes narrowed, Clint shakes his head, making drops fly from his hair. “Just you wait, Stark.”

Tony has no doubt that Clint is already plotting his revenge and he should tread carefully. That is part of the fun, though.

“Perhaps you should change your clothes first,” Tony taunts, unable to help himself, “or you’ll drip all over the floor. The cleaning bots don’t like that. And you don’t want to get on their naughty list.”

Clint growls something inaudible but stalks off towards his bathroom without further threats. They have run out of those fairly quickly, preferring to rely on actions to prove their seriousness.

Satisfied, Tony turns around ready to keep working, when he is reminded that Bruce is present and has witnessed the whole thing.

“What is going on?” Bruce asks, looking at Tony with disapproval. Behind that, though, Tony thinks he can see definite signs of amusement.

“Nothing serious,” he promises. “Clint and I have a bet going, but we have mutually decided to not use lethal methods”

For a moment, it looks like Bruce is going to ask more, and Tony would love nothing more than to rope him in. Alone, he is already near-unbeatable. With Bruce, he would turn this into a spectacle the entirety of New York would never forget.

Sadly, though, Bruce usually follows his common sense. “Just don’t kill each other.”

“That’s what non-lethal means, genius.” Tony grins but does not push. “Now, let’s get back to work.”

 ---

A week later, an explosion has the floor trembling and shortly after that, alarms are shaking the walls. They are different from the Avengers alarm, and yet everybody in the living room sits perfectly straight immediately, ready to throw themselves into the action.

Tony looks up lazily from the tablet he has been working on, registering the faces around him and, more so, that Clint is missing from the group. A smile tugs on his lips.

“No worries,” he says, getting slowly to his feet. “That’s the workshop alarm. I guess one of my experiments went wrong.”

It probably says a lot that the Avengers actually relax at that. Steve looks at him with vague worry, but no one looks eager for a fight anymore. Explosions have become too common an occurrence for them to still be unsettled by it. That gives Tony, who knows exactly that he has not left anything prone to blow up unattended when he left for dinner, to deal with what he guesses is another intrusion attempt from Clint.

As soon as he is in the elevator, he asks for a status update from JARVIS.

“Agent Barton has just attempted to blow his way into the workshop.”

That is surprisingly unsubtle. After weeks of sneaking and little bits of progress here and there, it seems wrong for Clint to attempt something as pedestrian as bombs. Especially since that is one of the first things Tony guarded his workshop against, considering the kind of work he gets up to in there.

“From the vents?” Tony asks for clarification.

“Yes,” JARVIS answers promptly, echoing Tony’s incredulity. Attempting to blow himself a way in from such a limited space as the vents is – such a Clint thing to do, really. “He did not get in.”

“Of course he didn’t,” Tony snorts, never having doubted his security measures. “Is he all right?”

If Clint were seriously harmed, JARVIS would have led with that. Still, they are friends now, and Tony cares for them, although he does not often admit that openly.

“I shielded him from the worst of it,” JARVIS reports. “His newly regrown eyebrows have been singed off again, however.”

“Pity,” Tony comments immediately, openly showing his grin. In the privacy of the elevator, nobody can scold him for that. “This is excellent news nonetheless. Close the cage.”

“Cage is closed.” If JARVIS had eyes, he surely would have rolled them at Tony now. He does not need to be reminded of such clear tasks. “I will monitor Agent Barton’s progress.”

Instead of going to the workshop, Tony directs the elevator to Clint’s floor and makes his way to the bedroom. There, he gets comfortable on the bed and waits.

The cage means that all entrances to the ventilation system are closed off, SHIELD agent and circus brat proof. If Clint thinks he can escape that without Tony’s approval, he will have a rude awakening.

Tony waits for the better part of an hour. If he were not eager to see Clint’s face when he arrives here, he probably would have lost patience long ago. For that exact reason, he does not ask JARVIS where Clint is or when he is expected to arrive. Not knowing when it will happen makes it easier to wait. Also, Tony wants to see whether he can notice Clint coming.

It turns out that he cannot. There is no sound and no other sign that heralds Clint’s arrival. From one moment to the next, the flap gets torn open and Clint glares down at Tony through the bars making his escape impossible.

Before Tony can say anything, any of the gloating greetings he has prepared, Clint calls, “I give up.”

It comes so unexpected that the words do not register with Tony for a full minute. Then he blinks, full of disbelief. “You don’t.”

Clint’s face is grim. The usual mischief and cunning are absent. He does not look angry either, but that is perhaps still coming.

“Don’t make me say it again,” Clint warns but then does it anyway. “You’ve won, Stark. Do you know how loud an explosion is in a place like air vents?”

If Clint has any brain cells left, he will have at least turned off his hearing aids beforehand and covered his ears.

“The thought might have crossed my mind,” Tony says slowly, desperately trying to gauge what is happening.

Clint does not give up. Ever. Not even when there are worse possible repercussion than simply losing a bet against Tony.

“So, yes, I’m done,” Clint says nonetheless, holding onto his nonsense. “One day, you might forget that I’m not a supersoldier or a god.”

Snorting, Tony shakes his head but keeps a close eye on Clint. Perhaps the explosion has done more damage than he thought, despite JARVIS’ scan. “I’m not in the habit of forgetting things.”

Clint bares his teeth at him – the effect of which is made worse by the bars separating them. “Apart from basic human needs like eating or sleeping or letting someone check your wounds after a battle,” he says, full of sarcasm.

“That’s not –” Tony argues but cuts himself off with a shrug. “Well, it’s not completely true.”

“Right, you only forget that when it’s about you.” Clint rolls his eyes. His missing eyebrows make that look comical, but Tony is not in the mood for laughing. “Anyway, it was fun while it lasted.”

“It – was,” Tony says slowly, wondering what he is missing.

“Right,” Clint announces and vanishes back into the ventilation system. A second later, his echoing voice adds, “See ya later, Stark.”

Confused, Tony walks back to his workshop. Clint is not one to give up, not even under threat of bodily harm. Something is up, he knows it. The victory, if there ever was one, tastes bitter on his tongue.

“Lockdown, J,” Tony says, relishing the safety of the workshop turning into his personal panic room with just one word from him.

Something is different, though. He cannot pinpoint what, but something is not right. Walking over to his desk, he looks at the mess of sketches and papers, seemingly unchanged from how he left them.

Following his instincts, he looks through the stacks, looking for clues since he is lacking any specific evidence. There. A small piece of paper falls into his hand. On it is a sketch of a bow and several arrow designs in addition to several notes and descriptions that are definitely not made in Tony’s handwriting.

Underneath all of that is written,

Since you’re successfully keeping my bow hidden, here’s what I’d like. Thanks.

P.S. I count this as a victory.

Unable to help himself, Tony laughs. So much for Clint not having come into the workshop. If anything, the explosion must have been a distraction after the fact. Clint’s endurance has to be admired.

Staring at the piece of paper, Tony sees the crude sketch coming to life inside his mind.

“JARVIS,” he says, turning towards the screen, “I’d say the war is not over, but I think Legolas deserves a little present to keep his motivation up. Let’s get to work.”

[likethetailofacomet]

Tic-Tac-NO!

A/ N: So. this is a thing that happened. I…I don’t really even know. Well, that’s not true. I do know. It happened like this. Yesterday I posted a list of ten words that had to do with my most recent WIP and @ooo-barff-oooChaos Queen that she is, decided to take all ten words and come up with scenarios about each one. OBVIOUSLY I have to do at least 5 of them now. This was one.

Pairings: Jake x Kara, Mike x Eva, Kenji x April 

Word Count: 2,138 

Warning: We’re about to get personal with Kenji and April 

It was late August and a passing summer shower beat steadily against the covered porch of the McKenzie house, the breeze occasionally blowing a droplet sideways beneath the overhang and onto one of their faces. The air was warm despite the rain and the late hour, painting the sky a deep eggplant, lazy wisps of blue-gray clouds all but dissipating as they swirled, the stars and the moon begging to poke through. Laughter and the soft golden glow of the lantern lights poured from the porch as Kara handed Kenji a beer and, clutching her own beverage, slid onto Jake’s lap. His arm came around her and he kissed the tip of her nose, smiling and whispering a “Hey, Princess,” for her ears only. Across the way Mike and Kenji were engaged in a debate with Eva and April over which of them had packed more useless junk for their moves- that day had marked the official end of the Katsaros family’s southern migration, as well as Eva’s, Jake and Kara having helped them in their exodus of New York, and they were using the night to celebrate the whole family being together. Molly and the boys along with Hideki were all fast asleep upstairs, and though the adults were all exhausted from hauling boxes and moving furniture, sweating in the sun before it gave way to the rain, they had caught their second wind from the joy of being together and the buzz of the alcohol in the beers they were drinking.

Eva was smacking Mike’s knee playfully, expressing the importance of her collection of hair products and why she’d had to stock up on conditioner from her favorite salon in New York before they left. “Mike, don’t be ridiculous,” she rolled her eyes. “That was one box, okay? How could it have possibly made a difference in the grand scheme of things?”

“Darlin’,” Mike said, tucking Eva’s long, flowing, soft-despite-the-humidity, chocolate locks behind her ear. “It was one box of hair junk, another box of makeup junk…let’s not get into your shoes…” he laughed as she slapped his knee again, eyes twinkling as they widened. “Hey!” he chuckled.

“Hey yourself, babe, you knew what kind of woman I was when you put this ring on my finger.”  She wiggled her hand showing off the diamond that she’d been wearing for nearly three years as the two of them kept their relationship up with flights back and forth from New York to Louisiana. She took a sip of her beer, her eyes dancing as she did, and he squeezed her thigh.

“I sure did,” he said, biting the air before kissing her on the cheek. Kara caught Jake smiling over at them, that brotherly look in his eyes, and she knew that he was proud of Mike for the way he’d let Eva turn his life around. She felt the smile grow on her own lips. She knew that Mike’s past was just as lonely and broken as Jake’s was, but with Eva, his future was bright and whole.

“Okay, okay, guys but hear me out now,” Kenji stood, the neck of his beer between the thumb and pointer finger of his right hand, his wedding banded left hand pointing accusatorily at April. “This one,” he jabbed his wife in the shoulder with his pointer finger and she mocked being wounded- with her super strength she had barely felt it at all- “This one just had to bring the paper copies of every project she’d ever worked on, every report she’d ever run, all the articles, all the folders full of lab work and trials and-“

“And all of our top secret information, Kenj,” April tugged at Kenji’s wrist, easily pulling the massive man back down to the cushioned bench. “Or did you forget that, ya know, we have super powers that,” she made air quotations around her next words, lowering her voice conspiratorially, “don’t exist.”

“Fair…fair point,” Kenji said, ruffling April’s thick black hair. “Alright, Darwin, looks like you win for ‘most useless junk packed by our wives’.”

Jake noticed Kara looking over at the way that Kenji was brushing his nose against April’s, and the nearly permanent way that both of their cheeks were lifted into their eyes from happiness and laughter and smiling until it hurt. He knew she was thinking about when she’d met her sister, the two of them stranded in the crystal dimension together, April so drained and weak that she almost didn’t make it home, and he knew that she was reveling in how far April had come from then, and how much it had to do with the man by her side.

“Nuh-uh,  Metal Man,” Mike shook his head. “Nope, I have retracted my former statement. Eva did nothing wrong, never does.”

“That’s more like it,” Eva said as she and Kara laughed while April rolled her eyes.  

But Kenji wasn’t letting it go so easily. “No way, man, you can’t compare redacted top secret government information and heavily guarded trade secrets to hair care products and shoes.” He took the finger he’d been pointing at April and instead directed it at Mike.

Mike was getting ready to respond when Jake interrupted. “Easy way to settle this,” he said, moving to grab the wooden box that was stashed on the side table next to the wide Adirondack chair he and Kara were sharing. He shook it and the contents rattled over the sound of the pattering rain. It was a hand carved wooden game set complete with chess, checkers, puzzles and a tic tac toe board. “The McKenzie dispute resolution method,” he said, opening the box and rummaging through the different types of boards until he found the one cross hatched with two vertical lines and two horizontal lines. “Any time Molly is arguin’ or if Princess and I can’t agree, we settle it the civilized way.” He held up a wooden X and a wooden O. “Good ‘ole fashioned Tic Tac Toe. Scrap Heap vs. Darwin. Right now.” He slammed the board down a bit harder than he meant to in his tired, happy, inebriated state, and a snort of laughter burst from his lips to mix with Kara’s tingling giggles.

“NO! NO NO NO NO NO NO NO!” Kenji stood, shaking his head feverishly, a look of pure horror on his face as April hid her scarlet cheeks behind her hands. Mike and Eva suddenly found the slats of the porch floor extremely interesting as they averted their eyes.

“Woah, woah, woah,” said Jake, a mischievous flash in his cobalt blue eyes. Kara could tell that he wasn’t going to let whatever this was go, and she smirked at her sister as April peeked out from between her fingers. “Someone gonna explain why I mentioned an innocent game made for children and the four a you are actin’ like I suggested strip poker?” He took a long pull from his beer as he waited for one of them to bite.

“Well,” Eva started, but Mike quickly stopped her with a hand on her knee and a light lipped shake of his head.

Jake saw his friend’s attempt to silence her, and it only made him push harder. “Nuh, uh, Darwin, don’t you go tellin’ miss Eva to keep quiet. I can tell that this is a good one from Kenji’s reaction, and I think Kara and I deserve a good, funny, embarrassing story as payment for helping you all move your hair stuff and your lab reports and all your other crap, right, Princess?” he looked to Kara for confirmation.

Kara was still eying her sister, barely able to keep her laughter from tumbling out at the way April was shaking her head and furrowing her eyebrows; at the way Kenji was still standing like he was hoping he might suddenly gain the ability to fly away. “Yeah, I think that’s only fair,” she nodded to her husband before turning back to Eva. “Go ahead and spill the beans, E.”

Kenji was shaking his head muttering “nothing is sacred, I swear,” and April’s eyes were pleading with Eva desperately, but Eva seemed to be siding with Jake and Kara on this one, deeming it too hilarious to keep under wraps any longer.

“Well,” she said again, a little louder this time. Kenji sunk back down to his seat realizing that it was happening. April groaned and hid in Kenji’s shoulder. “Well, it’s funny you should mention strip poker, Grandpa,” she had taken to using Mike’s nickname for him- the only other person he’d allow to call him that until the day he actually became a grandpa-“Have you ever heard of Strip Tac Toe? Because apparently, that’s how Kenji and April settle disputes.” She looked at the Katsaroses and raised an meticulously arched eyebrow. “Isn’t that right, April?”

April was trying to disappear into Kenji’s shoulder. “I don’t wanna talk about it!” her voice was muffled by the fabric of Kenji’s shirt. He had his arm around her, comfortingly rubbing her back, that look of horror on his face fading to one of complete resignation.

“Well, too bad, Miss A,” Jake was loving this a little too much. “Looks like the secret is out.” He turned back to Eva. “Now what I really wanna know is how you two know about this arrangement,” he indicated between Mike and Eva.

Eva sighed, looking over at Kenji who rolled his eyes and nodded, seeing no way out and knowing that his brother in law was like a dog with a bone when he latched onto something that might make for a good joke. “Well…remember last year when Mike and I went to Tahiti? And Kenji and April’s apartment was being renovated so they stayed at our place while we were gone?”

Jake nodded. “Yeah, I remember,” he was resting his elbows on his knees and leaning forward, his attention completely captured by the embarrassment unfolding in front of him, taking great joy in the fact that the embarrassment was not his own.

“Well…I don’t know if you remember the detail about us having to come home three days early because of a storm in the forecast? We tried to tell Kenji and April that we’d be back early…you know, to let them know to expect us…but,” she shrugged, “they didn’t get the memo and, well…” Mike covered his eyes as if he was still trying to wipe the images of his friends’ nearly naked bodies in Eva’s living room from his mind.

“You walked in on Strip Tac Toe?” Jake looked at Kenji with a shit eating grin. “Like that time I walked in on you posin’ for Miss A like an un-masked hero?” Kenji and April groaned in harmony and Jake almost fell out of his seat with laughter. “What was the argument, I gotta know!”

“I tell you and you never speak of it again, got it?” Kenji leveled Jake with a look and the pilot held his hands up, making a face as if to say ‘I accept these terms and conditions’.

Kenji sighed. In a barely audible voice he mumbled, “It was over whether we should have Korean BBQ or Sushi for dinner.”

Kara completely lost it, Jake guffawing right alongside of her. “Oh my god, A, you two just cannot keep your clothes on, can you?”

“No, they can’t and It’s a real problem,” Mike said, pointedly looking at Kenji.

“Alright, alright, you got your story, Wingnut, you happy now?” Kenji grumbled.

“Happier’n a dead pig in the sunshine, Tin man, really. Miss Eva, thank you for your cooperation in this highly important matter.”

Eva gave in to a fit of laughter that had been threatening to burst forth from the second Jake produced the tic tac toe board. Mike followed suit with Kenji finally cracking and before they knew it the 6 of them were belly laughing as the summer storm blew right on by and the sound of the falling rain quieted until they were just left with the sounds of the night and the crickets and the frogs.

Kara felt her heart swell as he husband’s chest rumbled with laughter, as her sister’s cheeks turned back to their original shade, as Mike blinked his eyes enough to rid the images from his mind. She remarked for what felt like the millionth time about how at one point, she was nothing, from nothing, and had no one. And now, well, now she had the world right here on the porch, and heaven inside in the form of her sleeping children and nephew. Their memories were heavy on the laughter, full of the good stuff, and that was only going to get better now that they had their whole family all in one place.

tagging: @ooo-barff-ooo @sleepwalkingelite @brightpinkpeppercorn @zaffrenotes  @mind-reader1 @agent-bossypants @endlessly-searching-for-you @endlesstaylormckenzie @endlesshero1122 @indiacater @nekkidmolerat @xo-endlessmayhem-xo @cordoniantrash @akrenich @gardeningourmet @choiceslife @choices-is-life @mkatschoicesblog

[janeykath318]

Kiss, Marry, Kill: Kirk x Reader

It all started as a joke: someone in the security department had done the Kiss, Marry, Kill, game with certain co workers and it had started to spread, even down to Medbay, where various nurses could be heard debating the merits of Scotty, Uhura, and even Chekov. The Captain ended up overhearing while he was getting patched up one day and you knew you were all doomed. 

"So, Nurse Y/L/N, how am I faring on the lists down here? Did I make it on a lot of people's Kiss list?" "I hate to break it to you, captain," you told him, mirth dancing in your eyes, "you're actually leading in the Kill category. Dr. McCoy in particular was very vocal in his choice." "Of course he would," Kirk sighed, rolling his far too pretty eyes. "I did think some of you liked me better than that." He made a sad puppy face that was next to impossible to resist, especially for you who secretly had it bad for him. "Maybe if you wouldn't be in here so much, we wouldn't be so sick of you, captain," you said mischievously. "Absence makes the heart grow fonder, you know." "So, if I stayed perfectly healthy, you'd respect me more?" He asked, half teasingly. "Possibly," you hinted. "Maybe acting less like a child when you're getting hypos would help too. Just a tip." You winked at him and walked out to get the doctor, leaving Jim staring after you, torn between being insulted and in love. The next few days, the Kiss, Marry, Kill theme seemed to really spread over the ship. In fact, someone in the bridge crew announced there would be a contest for people to submit their Kiss, Marry, Kill choices, (among the single officers) along with written out reasons to be judged by Uhura and Sulu. Those with the best reasoning for their picks would get to have dinner with the officer of their dreams. You rolled your eyes and wondered just how desperate the Captain was to be liked. "No way am I doing this!" You declared. It's  utter childish nonsense!" "Oh, c'mon, Y/N, I thought you'd jump at the chance to go out with that corn-fed menace of a Captain you have a crush on," teased Dr. McCoy, hearing your rant. "Oh, puh-leeze," you snorted. "I don't have a crush on him. Just because I made one comment about his eyes once, does not mean I'm all lovey-dovey, lovestruck over him. Heck, even YOU admit he has gorgeous eyes, and you certainly have no romantic feelings for him." "Oh, there's a very big difference, Y/N. You haven't seen yourself when he comes in here. You're practically bowling over the other nurses to get to him." "I do not," you sulked. "Do I, Christine?" "Well......" she tried to hedge, and you put your hands on your hips, outraged at the lack of support. You pretended to utterly ignore the whole contest, but the endless chatter about Jim vs. Scotty vs. Leonard drove you up the wall, especially the guys in medical who talked about him like he was a piece of meat, ripe for the tasting. You hoped they were all horrible writers. Jim deserved better! At last, you got an idea. It would probably not win the contest, but it would make you feel better. You sat down after shift and started writing. Kiss, Marry, Kill, by Y/N Y/L/N Kiss: James T. Kirk Reason: 1. To shut him up when he drones on and on about the wonders of space 2. Those lips are too perfect 3. My gut tells me he's really good at it. Marry: James T. Kirk Reason: Because I worship the ground he walks on and he might be less of a reckless fool if he had a spouse to remind him how much he has to live for and how loved and needed he is.  I’d love to pick that genius brain. Also: captain's quarters come with real water showers, a big plus. Kill: (Hypothetically, of course) James T. Kirk Reason: He's a aggravation to the nth degree. Examples include: Frequent Injuries, extreme stubbornness, Those ridiculous stupid smiles he gives that could cause dangerous heart arrhythmia, his bluer than blue eyes that cause people to lose their concentration when he looks at them, and the terrible dad jokes he cracks that he thinks are so funny and laughs so hard at. Despite being pleased at managing to refrain from mentioning Jim's other positive attributes (that ass!), you wavered back and forth before you finally sent in your entry. You'd kind of bared your heart, after all. However, Sulu and Uhura were both very good at respecting people's privacy and they wouldn't spill your secrets. Besides, the chances of you winning were very low, if not impossible, given that you'd used the same name for every slot. At last, however, you hit send, and went to bed very relieved. You'd almost forgotten about the whole thing by the time the winners were announced three weeks later and when you got a message declaring "Congratulations, Lieutenant Y/L/N, you were selected as a winner in our shipwide contest. Your entry was chosen as the best among those who put Captain James T. Kirk in the Kiss or Marry options." You stopped reading right then and there and began mentally freaking out. You'd only entered as a joke and a fun way to relieve your feelings. Guess they'd taken you seriously. Could you back out without looking like an idiot? Surely, the runner up would be more than happy to take your place. During lunch the next day, the winners were announced over the intercom by Sulu. You didn't know where to look when your name was read and all your friends turned to stare at you. (Thankfully, McCoy had other things to worry about, since someone had won dinner with him.) "Congratulations, Y/N!" Christine said, a pleased grin on her face. "I'll gladly offer my services to help you get ready for your date with the Captain." Your face felt like it was burning up, more so when you saw Jim Kirk ambling over to your table. "Hi, Captain," you muttered, wishing you could sink through the floor. "Nurse Y/L/N! This is a happy coincidence!" Kirk exclaimed, walking up to you, with that disgustingly contagious smile on his face. "How so?" You managed, even more nervous in his presence. "I've been trying to get up the courage to ask you out anyway." "Me?!!" You squeaked. "Of course you. You do know you're my favorite nurse, right?" "No......" you said slowly, processing this information. Jim liked you? Really? Surely it was too good to be true! "Yes, you are," he said firmly. "So, Are you going to claim your prize?" There went that cheeky expression again. "Insufferable egoist," Len muttered, rolling his eyes. "Of course she is!" Christine said for you. "Name the date, place and time, and she'll be there." While you were spluttering, they determined the dinner would take place in the small observation deck the next Friday at 1900 hours. "Great!" Jim exclaimed, "We'll see you then! Have a nice day, Y/N." "Traitor!" You hissed weakly to Christine, but the butterflies of anticipation dancing in your gut said differently. "Trust me, you'll thank me later. I wouldn't have done this If I didn't think he really cares about you," she told you. She did come through on her promise to help you prepare for the big date, and before you knew it, you were all dolled up in a green dress and cute updo style Christine saw in a magazine and thought would look perfect on you. "There! You look stunning!" She said at last, stepping back and inspecting you carefully. You smiled and gulped. "Let's hope the Captain thinks so, too." "Oh, he will," she assured you. "Now, shoo, have a good time!" More nervous than you'd ever been, you made your way to the agreed upon room, where Jim was waiting for you. Having rarely seen him in anything besides his uniform or a hospital gown, you were taken aback by the sight of him in a blue dress shirt and tie. "Wow!" You breathed. He cleaned up GOOD. "Wow, yourself," Jim returned. "You look amazing." "Thanks," you said, face warm with the compliment. "This was really nice of you to play along, but What if Cupcake had won?" Jim laughed. "I'd still hang out with him, but He's only likely to put me on the Kill list. Trust me, I'm not his type AT ALL." As the two of you devoured the food, which was very tasty, he asked you about what you'd written. "I actually didn't think I'd be considered eligible," you told him, "given how I made cases for why I'd want to kiss, marry, AND kill you. Somehow, it was rather cathartic." "I seem to inspire that reaction a lot," Jim said ruefully, buttering a roll. "Glad you came, though. So, tell me, what's life like working in Bones's domain? I hear he can be a bear at times." "Oh, he can," you confirmed. "You just have to use common sense and know how to placate him. He's a good boss, but he doesn't suffer fools." "That's very true," Jim said. "He's said several times that next to Chapel, you're the best nurse on Alpha shift." "He said that?" You asked, flustered again. "Yes, he did," Jim said. "And I think you're pretty awesome too--both as a nurse and a person." "Wow, You really are a smooth talker," you said, raising an eyebrow. "Let's see if you're still saying that once you've got to know me and my quirks some more." "Does this mean you're willing to go on more dates?" He asked, looking hopeful. "As long as this one ends as well as it started, definitely." "What do you say to this?" He asked, pulling the cover off of a plate containing two lovely slices of chocolate cake with caramel filling peeking out. "Poke cake?" You gasped. The man had done his research--this was your absolute favorite indulgence. The white frosting on top covered the caramel glaze that oozed down through holes poked in the cake and made it deliciously gooey and decadent. "Indeed. Made special by real people: not replicators." Jim looked extremely pleased with himself, eyes darting back and forth between you and the cake. Picking up Jim's hand, you kissed it dramatically. "My hero!" You explained in a staged breathy sigh. "That'll do the trick all right. The shyness disappeared along with the cake and you and Jim ended up laughing and talking and flirting until a late hour. "So, see you again soon?" He asked, when he walked you to your door. "Of course. Hopefully NOT in sickbay, though." You poked him meaningfully in the chest, then leaned up and kissed his cheek. "Goodnight, Jim." "Goodnight, Y/N" he replied staring after you with what Christine would have called "heart eyes."

@whatif-animagineblog @yourtropegirl @kirkaholic123 @southernbellestatues

@kaitymccoy123

[hyungtop]

best friends to idol couple: hyuk

you meet hyuk backstage at a music show

you walk into their waiting room and you’re like wHAT IS THIS because where is vixx i only see six models here huh

your head is spinning as you shuffle into line with the rest of your group members to greet them

all of the vixx members are nice but a little awkward because there are cameras

n and leo are the same age, n is the leader and the oldest and has a lilt to his voice when he talks

leo is intimidating but has the voice of an angel and is so so adorable when he talks

ken is the one with the beautiful hair and a big smile

ravi and hongbin are the same age, ravi has legs for miles and a tattoo that curls over his collarbone

hongbin has strong arms paired with big eyes, two cute dimples and a toothy grin

hyuk is the maknae, a little taller than the rest of them, with an insanely chiseled jaw and thighs close to bursting out of his pants. he doesn’t say much but nods along with whatever his hyungs say

when it’s time to leave and all the cameras are turned off, you hear someone call your name and hyuk presses a little slip of paper into your hands

you go to open it but he suddenly goes “ahHHH NOT HERE” and everyone starts snickering

the last thing you see before leaving is n getting his smirk literally wiped off his face by hyuk’s hand

once you’re in the hallway everyone crowds around and you unfold the piece of paper to find hyuk’s kakaotalk id and your face turns red

and if you make a mistake onstage it’s not because you’re thinking about him

later on, in the car on the way home, you add hyuk on kkt and he almost immediately messages you

he’s friendly and easy to talk to from the beginning, he always has something to say

even though he’s pretty busy, he always finds the time to text you

and since he never sleeps, when you come back from practice he’s always there for you to talk to

has the best stories and the best jokes

facetiming with him and seeing all the other members in various states of undress as they relax at home

facetiming with him and bragging about the food you’re getting vs whatever junk he’s managed to procure for himself late at night

facetiming in bathrobes curled up in white sheets but 1000 miles away from each other

watching him bother the hyungs (you heard he was a shit but now you know it’s real)

listening to him talk about starlights with adoration

listening to him talk about his hyungs with a different kind of adoration but mushy feelings nonetheless

going out to eat and alternating between whose turn it is to pick the restaurant, he almost always wants to eat gopchang and you’re like bruh how much do you think i’m getting paid

always complains about how he doesn’t see you enough

“are you off tomorrow?”

“yeah, i’ll meet you for lunch”

“no, pack a bag and come over. we can stay up and play games”

playing video games with him and getting your ass kicked

watching him laugh his ass off as he stomps you into the ground

what a little shit

but it’s all worth it to see him smile

grudgingly watching anime with him

grudgingly watching him play overwatch and going “uh huh, uh huh” whenever he tries to explain the gameplay to you

likes to act cute to piss you off and you secretly like it but can’t show it bc he’s embarrassing and also bc he’s 183+cm like cut the cute act big boy, that image died years ago

holding three different conversations on text, snapchat, and kkt

conversations are 85% sass because someone’s gotta keep this kid in line

topics range from “what do you think about sexy policemen as our next concept” to “where do words go when you erase them”

eventually the sass turns into play-flirting and there’s suddenly this tension like am i going too far? am i being too suggestive?

and you’re in a weird place where you’re starting to fall for him and you don’t want to be cold but at the same time you don’t know if you should keep him so close anymore

one night he invites you over to his dorm after practice

hakyeon lets you in and tells you to keep the noise down, it’s 2am and everyone’s getting ready to go to sleep

hyog is standing at the stove putting ramen into two bowls, looking all soft in a worn t-shirt and sweatpants with a towel on his head and little bits of ruffled hair peeking out

you hop onto the counter as he passes you the bowl and chopsticks

“are you cooking for me? you’ll make a great housewife someday”

he snaps at your nose with his chopsticks before digging in

and you swear he finishes his bowl in about a minute even though it’s twice as big as yours

when eating with hyogi, sharing is a must so he starts picking at your bowl and it’s finished in another thirty seconds

after the two of you have stuck your bowls in the sink, he leans back against the counter and says, “since we’ve been friends for a while, i was thinking about changing your name in my phone, but i don’t know what to change it to”

you’re like really? you don’t have any ideas? at all?

and he says “not really…but i was thinking maybe…”

he looks nervous and you’re like hyuk? are you okay?

and he starts softly singing

“can i call you my own and can i call you my lover, call you my one and only…can i call you my everything…my baby”

he trails off and looks away

you grab his chin and turn his face back to yours

he puts his hand over yours and looks up hopefully at you through his lashes

“what do you say?”

“only if i can do the same”

“really?”

“yeah, stupid”

“can i kiss you?”

you can’t even reply before he’s leaning in and pressing his mouth to yours

the kiss is sweet and chaste and you certainly have NEVER imagined what his lips would feel like, but they’re soft and warm and a little oily from the ramen

he tastes like the soup too but hyuk is 75% junk food and snacks so it just makes the kiss more uniquely him

after a moment you pull away just enough to not be kissing him anymore

something moves in your peripherals and you look over to see hakyeon and taekwoon standing in the doorway

taekwoon huffs a soft “finally” before walking away

hakyeon comes over to hug the both of you, saying something like “my children have grown up” and hyuk grumbles under his breath

hakyeon says, “if the two of you ever need a shoulder to cry on or advice of an ADULT NATURE–”

“hyung!!”

hyuk ushers you to the door to get away from greasy hakyeon and gives you another kiss before you leave

he can’t stop smiling about it, even the next day, so the other three members wheedle it out of him and blow up your phone asking about it

not much changes after the two of you start dating

lots more spending time together on your days off (read: going out to eat before coming home to make out on the couch)

lots of fevered kisses and fumbling over clothes and jumping about ten feet into the air whenever someone walks by his room (hakyeon refuses to let hyuk close the door when you’re over)

taking lots of aesthetic couple photos on secret dates but not being able to post them

he’s surprisingly shy about suggesting new places to go on dates

handholding and other skinship, there’s rarely a moment when the two of you are together where he isn’t wrapped around you or touching you in some way

he gets jealous easily and usually holds it in well but if he really gets irritated, he’ll go out of his way to be mean to you bc he’s petty like that

and you’ll either smack him upside the head and tell him he’s being dumb or be mean back to him and then it turns ugly

most fights are like this, they’re small and revolve around the both of you being stupid and prideful but someone always backs down

he apologizes by buying you food or immediately coming over to spend time with you

he will send you lots of cute selfies if he’s too busy to facetime

(and the occasional dick pic)

seriously this kid is a tease…everything is a game of “how turned on can i get you and how scandalously can i touch you in public without getting caught”

and you’re like this is your first real relationship right??? right???????

sex happens about a year in, just because there isn’t really time for anything and then when there’s time, the both of you are exhausted and would rather nap together

but after walking in to see hyuk on top of you and your hands down each other’s pants too many times, the hyungs give him a box of condoms for christmas

hyuk thinks it’s a joke at first but they’re like no really

he tells you about it and you brush it off because there are more important things to worry about, like end-of-year stages

things start to die down after the new year begins, you stay in seoul and wander the streets at night while everyone goes back to visit their families

hyuk comes back early from daejeon and asks you to come sleep over since no one else is back yet

after watching six hour-long episodes of anime in a row, your eyes are burning so you ask hyuk to get you a sweatshirt while you take a break

as he’s sifting through his clothes, you wander into his room and find the condoms

he turns around to find you with the box in your hand and an uneasy look on your face

“you know i wasn’t kidding about those” he says, coming over and handing the sweatshirt to you

“yeah, now i know” you say

he takes the box from you and pretends to study it before asking, “so…do you maybe want to make good use of these?”

you stare up at him before saying, “god, do you even need to ask?”

and that’s all it takes before he’s kissing you and running his hands up and down your sides, tugging at your clothes and getting in your way as you try to take everything off

he pulls off his sweater and jeans and hops into bed with you, pulling the covers up over your bodies

and god if it isn’t the hottest thing when he slots his hips against yours and murmurs against your skin “i want to be inside of you”

it ends relatively quickly and hyuk goes a little pink, but he ducks under the covers and goes down on you until you’re barely able to breathe

about an hour later you’re in the kitchen getting water when hyuk comes up behind you and carries you back to the bedroom and you know what happens next

the next morning, the rest of vixx comes home and ravi screams when he opens the door to his (shared!!) room with hyuk and finds a combination of clothes and condom wrappers on the floor

along with hyuk’s naked ass, because you stole the covers in the middle of the night and he was too lazy to wrestle them back from you

jaehwan the shithead immediately comes over and starts taking pictures for blackmail and hyuk has to very grumpily roll out of bed and shove everyone out before locking the door

going public is relatively easy

he’s getting convenience store snacks late one night when a fan approaches him and makes conversation

unfortunately he says without thinking that he has to go because his baby is waiting for him

the fan says your name as a joke and he says “yeah. gotta go bye”

he gets into the car and is like “hey, guess what? i just told someone we were together” and you go WHaT DID YOU SAY HAN SANGHYUK

he goes home and writes a fancafe post about it so the fans don’t get toooo mad and you also do the same

there’s always backlash no matter what, there will always be critics, but that’s just because they’ll never know what it’s like to be with him and you don’t mind too much

for about a month afterwards every program he goes on asks about the relationship

he doesn’t mind really, it gets him more screen time than n and ken combined

which slightly irritates hakyeon bc I AM THE LEADER

the both of you guys are sneaky little shits and he’s smart as hell so the cameras still don’t get much dirt on the relationship

but now you can post the occasional picture that you take of hyuk/with hyuk on an outing and share it with the world :’)

one thing that really touches you is what hyuk says on a show when he’s randomly asked about the relationship

the host asks how the both of you met/got together and he talks about meeting you backstage, becoming friends since the both of you were close in age, and falling in love

“i realized i wanted to be more than friends when we were facetiming one night. i was in japan, and they were in busan. we both stayed up way too late to talk, even though we both had schedules the next morning. when they finally went to sleep, i laid there in the dark and thought about how good my life was. i’m doing what i love and i get to share my performances with people who support me, but all i could think about was how much i missed them and how i wanted to be there with them more than anything else at that moment. now we’re together, yes, but they’re also my best friend, my biggest supporter, and the one i can trust my entire self with. i’m grateful that they’re in my life and i hope we can grow together and be happy for a long time.”

[trilliath]

Hi Trill, Crit anon again and I'm so sorry I keep sending you these, but I'm addicted and I really don't have anyone to talk about it :( anyway, I was feeling sad bc Vax and Gilmore "break up" happened so I went to take a peek at the Vax tag to see if I could find anything with him and Gilmore and I kinda saw at a big BIG *SAM AND LIAM CRYING* spoiler and I just needed to know if Vax is going to be okay. He is not going to be... y'know, forever dead, right??? DDDD: [1/2]

again sorry for bothering you with this and since is so spoilerish you can just idk post something and not publish this ask or not even answer omg sorry I just saw the four dragons thing and I’M SORRY I’M A MESS RIGHT NOW I’ll shut up .-. Also I’m sorry about you being sad about the tree I hope these don’t make it worse. Sending you the best wishes and thanks for introducing me to this, really. Again, sorry if I’m being out of the line ok really shutting up now [2/2] 

Ok babe no worries, I don’t have many people I talk to about critical role anyway! Also I’m not ACTUALLY sad about my tree i’m just making noise like I do when my house gets too quiet.

I’m not sure exactly where you are - are you just getting into the chroma-conclave arc - the storyline with all the dragons? That intro episode to that arc is BRUTAL in how intense it is, so emotional - when Laura herself just shuts down over the white dragon vs. Trinket?? I cry every time. And there’s so much that happens after then - I could give you spoilers if you REALLY, REALLY want but there’s just SO much story before you get to what I’m guessing you saw with Sam and Liam in the tag and I would hate to lessen the beautiful emotional arcs there with any secrets about which characters permanently die or not and when.

Vax breaking things off with Gilmore made me quite sad too, but he has to follow his heart! And of course he cares deeply for Gilmore, as do we all. I mean, the best-selling tee shirt from the entire campaign was the Gilmore’s Glorious Goods tee, if I remember correctly. I mean, it’s the one I bought at least so… seems legit.

You are barely a third of the way through the story of Vox Machina - there’s just so much ahead of you and I envy you the chance to hear and see it all for the first time. I’m stuck sitting here now waiting a full week between episodes in the new campaign instead of getting to binge them all like I did catching up just in time for the end of the Vox Machina campaign, and it is torture.

[darlingpetao3]

An Accidental Seduction (H.R. Wells x Reader, Part 1/2)

Rating: T

Summary: While attending bestselling author H.R. Wells' reading of his book, a misunderstanding hurtles you, the Reader, to some one-on-one time with your favourite writer.

Cancel this.

Reschedule that.

Rain check them.

That was never going to happen, anyway.

Your entire schedule was renovated upon learning that Central City's own claim to fame (in almost a decade), H.R. Wells, bestselling author, was giving a special and surprise reading of his latest steamy novel at Jitters tonight. Naturally, everything would take a backseat to this event, because not only were you a massive fan of his writing (you own his entire works, but his Romance series being your unabashed favourite ever), you were pretty sure you were in love with him. You've seen H.R. in interviews and at other book readings, and boy is he a charmer. So full of energy, a bright puppy dog smile, and God-perfected blue eyes that pierce your very soul. Word on the street has been that he's extremely “friendly” with the ladies. And the ladies are always more than “friendly” back. To say that H.R. Wells had fangirls was an understatement. More like he had fanwomen. He had them, alright. Had them begging.

What you wouldn't give to have his attention for only a minute...

You dismiss the thought because, as if. If only you were that lucky.

You make sure to bring your hardcover copy of the novel he'll be reading from, The Streak vs. Mr. Reflecto. Though H.R. has never outright mentioned it, you are convinced he uses moments from real life experiences from his past from working with The Flash eight years ago. The Flash used to be called The Streak when he first started saving Central City citizens. In the series, each book features The Streak battling a foe, always with a name similar to one belonging to a real life villain that once terrorized your city. Mr. Reflecto in the latest book has basically the same powers as Mirror Master, a horrible man who still runs around town tricking innocent people with his reflective powers and his vertigo-inducing lady friend in tow. You almost feel like a detective when putting these pieces together (rather than the journalist you really were), and you're sure none of his groupies are even paying attention to that kind of information he incorporates into his work. They just want to get in his pants.

Not that you could blame them.

Jitters was, well, jittering with anticipation and overpowering hormones. The entire crowd was women (plus a perfectly groomed man) in low cut, short skirts and dresses to accentuate everything they have and wish to offer. You seem to have missed the memo, what with your skin being covered and blouse actually buttoned up.

Oh look, a spot in the second row is still open!

You shuffle your way past all the bare legs and manage to snag the last seat in the second row, behind a woman in a ruffly green dress. She's rather tall, and as you try to see past her fresh blowout, she turns around in her seat. She eyes you up and down, with your copy of H.R.'s book clutched at your chest.

“Can you see, sweetie?” she asks.

“Well, not-”

“Aw, too bad. Should've gotten here earlier, I guess.” The woman smiles an evil smirk and faces the front again. You couldn't help your jaw drop, but really lady? Where's karma when you need it? The lights dim and the room fills with gasps and squeaks. A voice from the speaker system comes alive.

“Ladies! You-”

A male cough interrupts.

“Ladies and gentleman! You know him from his runaway hit The Future Ain't What It Used To Be and, of course, his bestselling children's books McSnurtle the Turtle and ABC Labs. Tonight he's here to read from his latest installment of the popular H.R. Romance Series, The Streak vs. Mr. Reflecto. Let's give it up for Mr. H.R. Wells!”

The room erupts with applause and wolf whistles as the man of the hour walks out on the little stage. He's wearing a gorgeous maroon blazer, his hair is swooped to perfection, and his grin? Heart stopping.

“Good evening, you lovely, lovely people. I'm glad you could make it out tonight for little ol' me.”

“I love you!” a female voice shouts from the back of the room.

“And I love you, random woman!” he shouts back. “I love you all. For without you,” H.R. scans the room, giving everyone attention it seems, but you. “I would be no one.”

Cue the sighs and twirling of hair.

“Let us begin! Which scene do you propose I read first?”

“The one where Florence first bumps into Terry Fallon,” someone suggests.

“Where Florence kisses The Streak in the rain!” yells another.

“When The Streak and Mr. Reflecto have that sexually charged moment!” calls out the only male fan.

“I don't remember writing it that way...” second-guesses H.R. Then Green Dress in front of you chimes in.

“I think we would all enjoy the scene where The Streak saves Florence for the first time.”

“Excellent choice,” he praises her. Ugh. It's a good thing you like that scene, too.

“Just as the villain was about to go in for the fatal blow,” H.R. reads. The room is captivated like never before. “Florence felt strong hands around her waist, lifting her like she was a feather. She was whisked away, the wind blowing through her hair, as her mystery hero finally set Florence down on a mountain top. I love that part. I was in the zone...” H.R. chuckles at his own writing, which is beyond adorable. If it was literally anyone else, you would think this behaviour pretty lame. Green Dress clicks away on her phone in front of you. How rude! You feel like confronting her, but then you hear a buzz come from the table beside H.R. He becomes distracted and fiddles with his phone. Absent-mindedly, he continues reading with a coy smile.

“Uh huh, hmm... She uh, Florence, was um, at the mountain top. Back to the mountain top.”

Green Dress's fingers begin typing again down by her side. H.R.'s phone vibrates again. Wait. No! You peek around her and see she's been texting him!

I want you, she had texted.

I know, he replied!

I have to have you *now*

“O...kay,” H.R. says closing his book. “We should do something else. Quick coffee break?”

A text shows up on GD's phone: How did you get this number? Not that I'm complaining...

Oh God. What is going on? While the ladies and man disperse to mingle, H.R. leaves to get himself a drink from the back (an espresso probably, it's his favourite). A burly man opens the entrance door and shouts, “Hey, anyone own a red Prius? It's being towed right now.”

A cry of anguish followed by a “you gotta be shitting me!”

Green Dress immediately makes a break for it out the door, and now you're mentally cackling like how you imagine Mr. Reflecto does in the book because that karma is a bitch. And right now, a blessing. Something buzzes on the floor near the stage.

No way.

This is too good.

Apparently, GD didn't realize her phone dropped out of her bag. You make a quick grab for it before anyone sees. Another reply shines brightly on her abandoned phone: Are you here tonight, stranger?

You notice that it's possible to reply without even unlocking the phone. Feeling brave, you type: Maybe.

Another reply: Oh, now you're playing hard to get. I like that.

You should probably put the phone down now. You don't want to be caught holding that chick's phone when she comes back. Before you can do anything though, you feel a presence behind you.

“It was you.”

Spinning to face the voice you know all too well, your heart practically stops. H.R. looks down at you with curiosity.

“I would never have guessed,” he says. You stare back in a stunned silence for a moment. Quick, say something back!

“I... suppose I couldn't help myself.”

“Understandable. My work has that effect on most,” he says with a wink that might as well have been a love arrow to your chest. You give an awkward little giggle.

“What say you to getting together after this?” His eyes are seriously hypnotic, pouring into you. Like you ever stood a chance against that question-and-eyes combo.

“I'd love to.”

The rest of the book reading made you feel like you were on fire. Since H.R. had believed it was you who sent those first texts, he couldn't take his eyes off you while he was trying to read. Sometimes he'd stumble over his words, look at you, and everyone's eyes turned to you and shot daggers. What a rush.

After the event, he snuck you out the Jitters' side exit and proceeded to, wait for it... his place. His midtown apartment is furnished elegantly, a major ladies magnet. Instantly your attention is captured by a bookshelf near the fireplace. Here lies each of his famous books and various plaques and awards for his writing.

“Wow. Very impressive,” you say almost in a hushed tone. “I hope to be as successful as you one day.”

“Ahh, you share the gift of the written word?”

“I'm a journalist at CCPN, but on the side, I'm trying to write my own novel.”

“Get out of town!” His face is so animated it's like he should have his own Saturday morning cartoon. He pats the cushion of his sofa. “Tell me all about it.”

The two of you end up spending hours talking about writing, each other's pasts (of which he is vague for most of it), and Big Belly Burger secret menu food items.

“You know, it's funny,” he says. “I've met a lot of women being an author, okay no, not a lot a lot, several maybe? Some?”

“H.R.” you bring him back to Earth.

“Right, anyway. None of them have intrigued me like you do.”

“I bet you've said that to all of these 'several' women.”

“I haven't.” His stare is fixed on you. Serious, which is very unlike him. It has you frozen in place. “No other woman has sat with me for hours to talk about writing, not to mention fast food!” H.R. scoots a little closer to you and drapes an arm across the back of the couch. “There's usually never much talking. Not much substance.”

He searches your face for a moment before leaning in to kiss you. His lips meet yours, soft and slow.

What. Is. Life?

For some reason your brain cannot comprehend, you break the kiss. You're a little flustered.

“I, um, it's really late. I have work in the morning. I should go.” And then it hits you. You need to leave because you don't want to be like those other women. One night with H.R. only to leave you the next day for someone new and interesting and better looking? That's something you could never bear. Not with the way you feel about him. It's better to break it off now than to have your heart broken later.

“Really? So soon?”

“It's 1 a.m.” You grab your jacket hastily.

“Can I call you sometime?”

In all your haste to save your heart from breaking, it would appear that H.R.'s is the one in danger of breakage. His normally bright face has fallen. You might as well have kicked a puppy. Maybe he's serious about getting to know you and only you. Could he leave his life of groupies to explore something with you? To quote a line from the second novel in his series, "The power of love, in all its mystery, is life changing."

“Sure. Give me your phone.” His eyes light up again at the hope your words brought.

“I believe I already have your number.”

Shit. No, he doesn't.

“Oh no, that was a friend's phone I was using. Mine's in the shop getting fixed. Here, this is the new number.” Saved it! H.R. pulls you in close to him and gives you a more than pleasant goodbye-for-now kiss. You could get so used to this kind of thing.

“You never told me how you got my number in the first place.”

“Let's call it fate and leave it at that.”

Part 2

[thoughtsfromparis]

Allison (But Not Allison This Time) and D.J. Fix Your Stupid Problems About Your Best Friend

To be fair, Allison tried on this one.

She wrote me a few days ago asking to bow out of this specific edition. Allison had just taken on two new clients and was now travelling a good chunk of the time. She kept attempting to write this piece but wasn’t happy with it. (After reading her drafts, I concur) Then she did that thing that all weirdos like her and I do – we go all or nothing. In a frazzled state she said, “I can’t commit to this any longer!” She was having a moment. I told her to have her moment, and that I’d handle this one. She’ll come back in the next one. She’s just a spaz.

Here’s what I wrote announcing Allison’s temporary departure.

In visiting Allison last week in her native Ronkonkoma​, we (D.J. and Allison) ate fondue at a local juke joint. Allison’s nerves got the better of her and she drank an entire fifth of white zinfandel during the appetizer course. We were asked to leave as Allison became belligerent when she suspected the waitress of ‘giving me a look probably because she’s jealous of my legs.’ Allison, too intoxicated to drive, left her 2015 Honda Accord in the parking lot and we shared a Lyft back to her flat. Thankfully her roommates slept through Allison crashing into every piece of furniture on the way to her master bedroom. She passed out face first onto her duvet and I did the same next to her. In the morning, for a lark I told Allison that I had enjoyed our vigorous lovemaking, but that she should get tested in the coming weeks. She exploded with violent rage and accused me of sexual misconduct, but before I could explain the joke, I found myself outside her condo – door slammed in my face. She still has my iPhone charger, and I don’t dare ask her to mail it back. She’s pretty peeved about the whole thing, even though all I really did was peek through her underwear drawer for a few seconds whilst she snored. I’m going to give it a few weeks before I ask for her to write the column, and I suspect her self-esteem is low enough to consider partnering again.

None of this is true, of course. I’ve never met Allison Arnone in person. I’m not 100% certain she exists. But I’m excited to keep doing this stupid column about your stupid problems. Enjoy.

My best friend and I live four hours apart, so we don’t get to see each other in person very often. We’re also both very busy with kids and family, so phone calls are once a month and very long — on her end. I hardly get to speak. She drones on and on about people I don’t know, complains about her mother, and tries to sell me products from all four of her different independent consultant/representative businesses, from beauty to nutrition to candles to teas — all the while knowing I’m living paycheck to paycheck. Every time I get off the phone, my blood pressure has risen. I love this woman dearly. We’ve been through a lot together, but I can’t seem to even squeeze in an interesting or amusing comment or two. Help.

D.J. – Okay, time for some tough love. It’s you, not her. That’s the bad news. She’s a selfish narcissist with an agenda. Nothing unique there. Tons of people like that roaming around. But… you’re the one who chooses to be friends with a selfish narcissist with an agenda. Here’s the solution – learn how to set boundaries. Work on your own self-esteem and guess what? These people either get in line or disappear. Because a truly healthy person doesn’t attract friends like that. Since I’ve been a tad rough on you, I’m going to end with some good news. She’s unconscious of her own nuttiness. You have the chance to change. She never will. So – change, ding dong!

She watches NON STOP IDIOT (FOX) NEWS. Need I say more? Okay, I will. She quotes idiotic, untrue, totally delusional political factoids at me. I keep saying, WE CANNOT TALK POLITICS. But she continues. I want to stab her in the eye with a fork. Should I?

D.J. – I’ve been listening to Donald Trump a lot recently in speeches and stuff, and he says FOX news is the best news source. And he’s the president! And there’s no way I’m smarter than the president. I barely made it through correspondence school! Plus, he is a big shot developer and hosted a TV show. That’s kind of badass, right? WE SHOULD OBEY OUR LEADERS.

Some like to think that their lover is their best friend. I thought so, at least. We did nearly everything together. I got my best friend a job at a restaurant. I drove her to and from work everyday and night, when she didn’t drive my car herself. She introduced me to a guy “friend” from work…”you’ll really like him” she said. One day she called me and said “hey, come meet me and Vinny at the bar I want you to meet him.” Surely, I agreed. He shook my hand, bought me a beer, and then a few days later proceeded to fuck my girlfriend. I kicked her out of my house the evening that I found out. Since then she’s keyed my car, threatened me, had men threaten me, try to call me for a shoulder to cry on after other men have dumped her…needless to say I’ve blocked her on all social media (she got so bad I had to block her on PINTEREST!) as well as her phone number…she still calls me to this day. She cheated on me after a year of being “best friends” in September of 2016. The end. Thank god.

D.J. – From what I understand, you’re a lesbian who lost her best friend and lover to a greasy Italian dude. Look, this is what greasy Italians do – they turn lesbians straight. It’s in their DNA. Just ask Allison. While she was never a girl-lover, she ONLY dates guys from Long Island with IROC Camaros (aka Italians). They’re hard to resist, from what I’ve read. So while I can justify your friend’s affair, I cannot condone her keying your car. You should hit back by throwing a bucket of red paint all over Vinny’s leather sport coat

Nothing to add. The image is way funnier than anything I could ever write.

She wants to be in a relationship, but does nothing to put herself out there in the dating world

D.J. – We’ve been poisoned by romantic comedies that suggest that Mr. Right just falls into your life, like when he’s seated next to you at a baseball game and he reaches for a foul ball and trips and ends up in your lap and then you fall in love but his best friend is kind of a jerk and he grabs your ass at a happy hour and you have to decide whether to tell him and you do and it strains his relationship and his friend lies and said you grabbed HIS butt and then he dumps you and then he finds out his friend was lying and to win you back he convinces the guy who runs the scoreboard at the stadium to video him apologizing to you in front of 45k fans. I guess what I’m saying is – tell her to hang out at the ballpark!

My brother publishes stories about my dad’s penis.

D.J. – I did publish a pair of stories about my dad’s pair, and I’m assuming this question came from my sister. To which I say this to her – You are free to write anecdotes on your blog about mom’s vagina. It’s a solid formula to drive web traffic. And we’re both in marketing, so we’re used to selling our souls.

Allison – When I saw this question and realized it had to be from D.J.’s sister, I laughed and told him we’re including this submission in the post.  I then felt bad for her because I realized she had to be related to D.J., and that just sucks.

I love my BFF, but she has the BIGGEST mouth. I want to confide in her and tell her personal things about myself, my family, my love life (or lack thereof) and other friends and it ALWAYS comes out that she’s told other people what I said. We’ve known each other a long time and she’s great, but how can I get her to keep her trap shut??

D.J. – Short answer is that you can’t. She’s going to blabber forever. So, if you’re harboring a terrorist sleeper cell in your neighborhood, you may want to keep that information to yourself. No wait – I’ve got it! TELL HER YOU’RE HARBORING A TERRORIST CELL. She’s blab to Betty, who in turn will blab to Sally, and before you know it, the FBI will be knocking at your door. But, hey – you’re not a terrorist, so no big deal, right? Then, guess whose door they’re hitting next? Your best friend. She’ll likely be put away on a felony charge of something or other. Then when she gets out of jail a few years later, odds are she’ll shut up about your secrets going forward.

She uses my jokes on social media, then doesn’t credit me. Then when I use my own joke, I’m accused of stealing from her.

D.J. – Here’s what you have to realize – 99% of people aren’t funny. But everyone thinks they’re funny. If you’re running around quoting one liners from Will Ferrell movies, you’re not funny. Don’t confuse memorization with humor writing. I was dating a woman last year who was wonderful in every way – and perhaps her most endearing quality is she would say, “I’m not funny.” And she never tried to make a joke. I loved that self-awareness and acceptance. That being said, I had to dump her. I can’t be with an unfunny person. Wait, I feel like I’ve made this all about me. Oh well. You’re on your own!

Read this next!

I Reviewed the F-Cup Cookie on InThePowderRoom

Me Vs. Cop – Part I

I’m Racing To See Race!

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[panic-in-tarir]

One year in review

That’s it! The OH IT’S BEEN ONE YEAR post is here!

The closer my first anniversary was, the more excited I got, and the more thoughts I gathered for one “summary” post. Now that it’s time, suddenly, bam, all of them gone. :’> *wipes sweat*

Recently I had someone asking about my progression and how I managed to get there (???? where? derp). Well, I guess, I could just start telling about my first deeds in GW2, and then see if I can add something.

This might or might not be relevant, but I come from Wakfu, a colorful 2D game with turn-based combat. It’s cool visually, but also has terrible management issues, lack of developer care, one of the worst customer supports ever, list goes on.. I played it since 2012, and year by year, only grew angry, disappointed and hurt. That was like an abusive relationship I couldn’t get out of. I refused to try different genre and engine games. Finally, @aketan​ / @flame-squad​ / Rika got me lowkey interested in GW2 (she was commenting expressively while playing, and I peeked over her shoulder), I decided to try it. And stayed. Migrating to a real-time 3D game wasn’t easy! Yet, it was my lifesaver decision. GW2 has everything that I wish was there in Wakfu. It took me several months, if not a year, to get fully “healed”, to recover from the bad game and start believing that good games exist. When I had to contact GW2 support, I was touched to tears.. Everything and everyone is so nice here.

That wall of text was a foreword! Or explanation why I’m so excited and grateful about every aspect of GW2.

I started without putting too much thought into the char creation, as a result, now I have yet another main whose name is literally foreign language swearing or pun. GG me. After having been completely lost and confused by the controls (I LITERALLY ran backwards and yelled), after having a short but comprehensive lesson from bff, I started derping around on my own. I think I was only guided until lvl 5 or so, then my buddy let me do whatever I want. I come from a sandbox-wannabe game so it didn’t take me forever to get comfortable and set my first goals. Of course, I had a shit ton of questions, which I didn’t hesitate to spam Rika with. It’s cool to have someone ready to explain you the basics and patiently show you things. :D My several first days, or even weeks, were intense. I didn’t rush levels, but was eager to see the world. It was so amazing to me that I was spending 8-10 hours a day, running around, completing maps. I started in Metrica but quickly wandered away to Caledon (”oh! a portal?!”), where I spent a handful of time then.

With such a desire to discover and observe, and after having seen the title you’re awarded for 100% world map completion, I set it as my first ultimate goal. I approached it rather seriously, and had an incredibly fun time, at least until I had only Orr left undiscovered. x’D As a squishy (and slow, and dumb) ele, I was frightened and a bit discouraged by the amount of, well, deaths here. If I recall correctly, I still wore yellows at that time, although I was 80. Rika helped me and accompanied me for a bit. Orr was tough and I legit cried out of anger and frustration when I was alone, but that was the only unpleasant moment in entire year, and only because I wasn’t good at the game yet.

In the meantime, I was leveling my first alt, human engi. Do you actually remember that f2p accounts only allow 2 chars? Later, after buying HoT, I finally got loose.

They say, you always remember the place where you finished your first world map. For me, and oddly enough, for Rika, it was Field of Ruins. We reached the last POI at the same time, and, boy, did it feel great. My first big accomplishment. It dropped like.. Like a norn fart in a moot (c) Jory \o/ I still use the title btw, “been there, done that”. \o/

Then, there was a relatively dull period before buying HoT. I focused on doing my personal story, maxing out my alt and getting into crafting. The latter quickly became addictive to me. It’s so smooth, fun and exciting in GW2. Artificer was my first discipline, and after getting the hang of it, I breezed through 100-500 in a single day’s course.

That’s what the progression of my first 4-5 months looked like! I still was f2p, did only open world content and had one person to play with. I’m my own boss so it’s up to me to decide if I want to spend 30 minutes or 8 hours ingame.

HoT was a blessing in every aspect possible! I never regretted buying it, never regretted taking my time and not buying it earlier though - I needed that f2p scrub time to learn the basics, and to appreciate all the convenience and QoL improvements that come with HoT.

That’s where the real game starts, if I could say that. Core Tyria is by all means amazing, but you can go only this far if your account has those market and mail restrictions.. I used to enjoy playing market in Wakfu (while it was still alive) and I was excited to try it in GW2. When I bought the expansion and got my account fully functional, I got some skins and dyes ahead of all, then proceeded with crafting since I was really addicted to it and excited to max all the disciplines as my medium priority goal.

GW2 is encouraging altoholism! So I found myself leveling a third character (tried revenant and didn’t notice how I got her to level 20-ish and it was too late to delete), then fourth, fifth, then more char slots.. You see my weakness. I quickly realized the perks of having alts: storage, gathering, alternative personal stories, so on. When you’re an altoholic, plus you have yet to finish gearing up your main, plus you can barely hold yourself from leveling another crafting discipline.. RIP GOLD. I never had more than 30-100g at that time period.

Since market and wealth are one of my biggest passions ingame, I learned ways to earn me some coins, one by one. It’s not that hard if you’re a patient gatherer like me. Just run around, chop trees, collect ore and herbs.. I enjoy it so much, maybe it’s grind for someone, but I find it relaxing. Also it brings you gold. \o/ I found a few niche crafts that I could keep making and selling, then got familiar with market flipping, still not doing it like “big daddies” do, I might be too inefficient and lazy at it. But still, I found my own stable sources of income. Not gonna lie, the game just seems to like me and spoils occasionally. I don’t wanna brag, but there was like 4 precursor drops for me, 2 from mystic toilet, 2 practically dropped from the sky. I might be a little luckier than the average player. But that’s well deserved given how much suffering I had in Wakfu. :’D

When we talk about luck, we can’t avoid mentioning gambling. I learned about mystic toilet quite early, but never was a slave to it. Tarrktun has a bit more power over me, but I’ve never lost too much, only gained little by little. Black Lion Keys are the most evil gambling aspect if you ask me, I’ve spent quite a bit of money on those, though sometimes got nice things in exchange. Either gold to gems or gems for real money, I don’t mind spending it on Anet since they very, very well deserve it.

Given my passion, patience and luck, you must think I should be filthy rich by now.. Hah. :’DD Sadly, I’m just as good at spending as I’m at earning! I blew a lot of money on my own “needs” and “wants” and “why not”s, I keep investing into long term sales, I also often buy gifts for my buddies, mostly Rika. Money comes, money goes. GW2efficiency says my account is worth 14k gold currently. Not a bad progress for a year, I suppose.

So.. My biggest interests and playstyle are gold wars, fashion wars, altoholism.. I became quite a lore geek, completed PS, LS2, available LS3 episodes & most of current events, most of HoT? I should finish it but I procrastinate for some reason.

My current achievement number is 7610, mastery rank is 129 iirc. I’m not a casual derp anymore, but still too afraid to fail in front of strangers so I don’t really do dungeons or fractals. I mean I DO, when my bff literally holds my hand and goes there with me, then 3 strangers vs two of us is tad bit less scary. My combat skill, my reflexes and reactions are rather pathetic, even if I got significantly better after HoT and LS3 maps. I must train more, so recently I made a tanky character to practice, I hope to get good enough to clear story mode dungeons and low level fractals alone. Maybe I’m being too hard at myself, but combat skill has practically the biggest influence in this game, so I must git gud, at least acceptable, so I don’t feel ashamed to play with other people and don’t let them down. :’D

I’m a pve trash. Tried WvW and don’t mind coming here again, but not too much. PvP is a big no-no. Just.. Not my thing. Never. Not with my current skill and mindset (people = stress).

I’ve still got a mind-boggling amount of things to do. Personal goals, mere achievements, secrets and mysteries I’m yet to uncover, lore things to read. Maybe I’ll play GW1 one day, if there’s ever a discount sale. \;w;/ I’m super curious about every tiny bit of lore, also want some skins that are exclusive to GW1. That pleasant, sweet feeling that there’s so much interesting things ahead. I will take my time and never grind anything to frustration, for example, I’ve been working on my first leg, Sunrise, on and off and I’ll wait several months more, until I get all the clovers from the monthly chest. I don’t sweat it and just enjoy the game however I see it. Feelsgoodman.

I hope I managed to answer that person’s question, how did I get where I’m currently? Just took my time, learned my own pace and enjoyed every minute I spent online. Love the game, and it will love you back. \o/

[edwardlando]

If I were to do college again

Edward Lando is a co-founder of Horizons, the first coding bootcamp for college students.

CLICK TO LEARN MORE ABOUT US

Since the company I’m working on is getting started in Philadelphia, I’ve been back on Penn’s campus a lot in the past few months.

I love being back and at the same time inevitably feel a little nostalgic, as always happens when you revisit a place where you’ve lived an important and beautiful part of your life.

Nostalgia always gets me thinking. What would I do were I to do it over again? What would I tell a young Edward today?

1. Run for class president.

Because why not? Everyone has impostor syndrome in the first few weeks. Everyone wants to meet everyone else but no one really knows anyone. So you feel like the odd kid at the party but of course all the others are in the same boat. So take that leap. Not many students even ran in my year and those who won just ended up being those who were gutsy and uninhibited enough to introduce themselves to everyone they crossed paths with. For all the candidates, regardless of whether they won, it was a very good move that paid off for the entire 4 years. There are no strangers… Only people you have not met yet. This is most true on college campuses. So time to get out of your comfort zone.

2. Only attend the lectures you enjoy.

During course selection period, try out as many classes as you can. Your university is a restaurant and it’s offering its entire menu. Have a little sample of each dish.

Very quickly, you’ll find that some classes and professors stimulate you and others are a drag. Either drop those classes or don’t go and just do the problem sets with a group friends. This is not high school anymore. You choose to be here and you are paying to get value so be ruthless about what you like and what you don’t. You have no time to waste and if you are forced to take some requirements you don’t like just get through them and spend most of your time focusing on what you find interesting and what makes you happy.

3. Favor classes that revolve around group work.

Because they prepare you best for the real world. I’ve forgotten all the classes for which I sat in a big lecture, barely acknowledged my neighbor and just did the problem sets and exams and called it a day. But those that had me constantly working with my peers I still remember today. I learned more from them than from the material covered in the class.

4. Choose classes for the professor over the subject.

Ever had the experience of meeting someone who is infinitely charismatic and tells the most fascinating stories? Doesn’t matter what they talk about. You’re hanging on their every word. Well, that applies to professors. I’ve had the experience of signing up for classes that sounded particularly interesting and getting the dullest lecturers. Quickly, I learned to prioritize the professor’s rating over anything else.

In fact, I took an advanced Statistics class just because my now good friend Emil, a Statistics PhD and particularly gifted lecturer was TA’ing it. I had no special interest in Probability but he made it extremely entertaining and interesting. His excitement was contagious. I mean, he managed to bring Chopin and War and Peace into some of his practice problems.

5. Practice public speaking as much as possible.

Practice rejection, practice making a total fool of yourself. The earlier you get used to these things in life, the bolder you’ll be on a day to day basis. I remember flyering on Locust Walk and getting ignored and denied, I remember seeing new fraternity pledges interrupting big lectures to sing to girls and give them roses on Valentines Day while all the students filmed and smiled and laughed, I remember people standing up and delivering very strange performances in poetry slam competitions, and the list goes on. In all of these, these people were better off after than before. Doing scary public things is like taking a cold shower. It’s difficult but it’s really good for you and shakes you back to reality, if you’re only brave enough to try it.

6. Explore your campus fully, as soon as possible.

It sounds silly but lots of people didn’t know parts of the campus existed until senior year or even never discovered them at all. Little gorgeous secrets that are great places to take walks or hang out or study. I think this is important because not doing it is the definition of being complacent and not making full use of all the resources that have been shared with you. There’s a beautiful biopond at Penn that I only discovered junior year because I’d never walked to that part of campus before. It’s easy to get locked into your little habits.

7. Make upperclassman friends.

I think that one of the biggest mistakes that young people make is to only spend time with people their age. People older than you are like future versions of you. It’s quite actually like getting to peek at the future, so why not use that? Ask them what their favorite classes were and take them, ask them what they wish they’d known, get them to share it all. They want to.

This applies to people at any stage in life. If you are in your early twenties, spend time with people in their thirties and forties and beyond. It’s like having a second chance before you need a second chance.

8. Share the moments with your family.

Your parents invested everything they had in you and they’re the people who care about you the most in the whole world. It’s great that you’re turning into a full-grown adult and going to all these parties, but why not share the fun and the experiences with those who love you. Think about how hard it must be for them to have you leave after all these years. Don’t let that stop you in your own life of course but also realize that sharing your moments with them in no way makes you less of an adult. In fact, it makes you wiser and more mature and will make the experiences you share even more memorable.

9. Get to know your favorite professors.

If you truly enjoy and admire a professor, go to their office hours and develop a more personal relationship with them. They are human beings, not just “professors” and can become good friends and mentors especially once you’re done taking their class. I’ve witnessed a lot of fruitful student-professor relationships that have persisted far beyond the student’s undergraduate years.

10. Hang out more.

Not kidding. Dorms are an incredibly unique social experiment and once in a lifetime experience. In my case, everyone on the floor had an open door policy, which meant that people left their doors partly open most of the time. Unless the door was locked you could just come in and say hi, have a seat somewhere and start chatting. This will never happen again once you are done with college! And so much comes from it. You will not remember most of your experience in these 4 years but you will remember the late night conversations and adventures, like I remember the time when my friend Matt came back from a party, put on some country music and painted a Michelangelo inspired fresco of the head of our program on his wall.

11. When it’s sunny, grab a blanket and work outside on the grass.

Nothing else to add.

Locust Walk at night, UPenn

12. Choose people and moments over grades and exams.

There will be many times when you’ll come to a people & moments vs studying decision. As someone who has always been a top student, I will tell you: choose experiences. Grades really do not matter as much as you think. People and moments will inevitably be the most important part of your college story. And your life.

13. Do not pile on the majors and minors.

If you’re trying to impress someone, stop. No one cares. Take the classes you actually want to take and stop trying to out-resume someone else. Taking on extra majors and minors will just make you miss out on the more important experiences that all happen outside of class and will take away any flexibility you have to take the odd interesting Masterpieces of French Film or Tibetan Meditation class that everyone is raving about.

14. In that same vein, don’t let your major dictate what you learn.

I was in the business school and took a ton of psychology, Argentinian literature and computer science classes, to the extent that I was afraid I would not finish all my business requirements in time to graduate. Those random classes that I chose to take were the highlights of my time at Penn and they were those I actually remember. I have absolutely no recollection of my accounting classes.

You are the captain of your ship. You choose what you become.

15. Meet everyone who you want to meet.

No group is out of your reach. If you really like a girl but feel like you have entirely different friend groups, find a way to break the ice. Everyone is 1 degree away from you on the campus. No one is a stranger. There are no cliques that you cannot integrate. Surround yourself exactly by the people who you want to be surrounded with. Your campus is designed to make it easy, so take advantage of it now because it gets harder once you graduate and are let loose into the big wide world.

16. Suffer through the grind with your peers.

When it’s midterms or finals season or you’ve got a huge project to hand in, do not work on it alone in your room. Go to the libraries and study halls and grind through it with your classmates. You’ll feel the energy and that’s also when you’ll develop a lot of your lifelong friendships. In shared struggle.

17. Be different. Be your unique self.

It’s easy to converge to what everyone else does and thinks around you. But it’s often not true to what you actually want to do. Don’t pretend to be anything you are not and don’t be afraid to wander off from the pack whenever you feel like it. On some of my best nights I skipped the big downtown party and went to this small charming movie theatre in Old City with a couple good friends or a date. One other nights when everyone was studying for a class I found boring I met up with my good friend Emil the Statistics TA and wrote fiction while he wrote poetry. We put our phones away and just focused for hours. It was strange, it was different. No one else did that but we loved it.

18. Learn real skills.

College is not the real world. Very few of your classes will be helpful when you come out from this 4 year utopia. So make sure you’re taking classes that teach you something applicable or learning it on the side by working on projects with your close friends.

In my case, I got the most value from these side ventures. Dozens of apps, websites and other concepts we tested out, which taught us how to design, how to code, how to push a product out, how to make something people want, how to talk to users, how to get press, how to do all the things that I still do today. They are the closest thing to the real world experience as you can get.

That’s why I launched Horizons, the first coding bootcamp for college students. CLICK TO LEARN MORE ABOUT US

19. Try out things you’d never think of trying.

That Mask & Wig comedy club you’ve always been curious about, those capoeira and salsa and bartending and DJ’ing classes you’d been meaning to try, that yearly ski trip to the Poconos… Favor trying new things over doing the same old. Remember, this is the phase of your life when you’re still sampling everything!

20. You’re not too young to be great at something.

Don’t be afraid of getting really good, really soon. I remember how one of the guys in my dorm was reading a 1000 page finance book that he strongly recommended to me in the first week we met. He was 18 and already knew more about finance than most full grown men. He is one of the only people I know who genuinely likes the subject and today is doing incredibly well at his job.

Generally, the most fulfilled and and confident people I met in college were really passionate or good at one thing. Design, code, art, writing, finance, creating new products. They fully dove into their work everyday unapologetically.

They followed what naturally attracted them and became great at it. There are no rules as to how good you can get and how quickly you can get there and college gives you plenty of precious free time. So go crazy.

21. Always remember: time really does fly.

It can seem that you have your whole life before you. And you do. But just keep in mind that time still keeps moving forward and irreversibly so.

I will never be in college again.

That part of my life is over and I’m fine with it and onto the next even more exciting part but just know that it all goes by in a very quick flash.

What has stuck with me over the years is Jeff Bezos’ “regret minimization” approach to life: imagine yourself on your deathbed and think of whether you’d regret doing or more importantly not doing something. And live accordingly. I think that’s the way to do it.

I believe that if you live every moment while acutely aware that your time is short, you will live more fully and more courageously.

So do it. Every day, shed off a little more of your fears and burst out of all those imaginary limits.

So we beat on, boats against the current, borne back ceaselessly into the past. - F. Scott Fitzgerald, The Great Gatsby

Thank you for reading.

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Edward Lando is a co-founder of Horizons, the first coding bootcamp for college students.

Learn more and apply here.

Horizons is a coding bootcamp and career platform in one. Our mission is simple: we bring real-world, practical software development classes to college campuses and connect our students with the very best tech internship and full-time job opportunities.