#but it pisses me off when people say it's misogynistic to call her boring

[gwandas]

Sometimes I get irked when stans are on about Elain being sooo different because she's not a warrior or whatever and making weird, extremely unfounded digs at others like "some people can only recognize character development when the girl picks up a sword" when... a lot of Nesta stans did not want her to have a warrior arc going into ACOSF. Some people are still very dissatisfied with that decision. Myself, I've made my peace with it, but I still would've preferred something else for her. Not wanting a warrior arc was never something that was exclusive to Elain. And also? Anyone who's read other SJM books can tell you she's plenty capable of writing female characters that aren't warriors.

Idk, I don't think there's a whole lot of mental gymnastics needed to see why some people call Elain boring. It's not because she wears dresses and bakes and gardens or whatever y'all seem to think it is—it's because she's not nearly as active in the story so far as other side characters. Looking at Lucien and Eris, or even Nesta before ACOSF and there's a massive difference in portrayal. All characters that were given ample development without having a POV compared to Elain. Solid personalities and everything. Be as excited as you want about her story, theorize to your heart's content, but you don't need to imply that real people aren't smart enough to understand her potential or call people misogynistic in order to hype her up.

[sapphic-woes]

Sevika x Fem!Reader - Two Faced

A/N: I just really like her. Anyways Sevika witnesses a woman tell off her shitty boyfriend and thinks it’s a riot, so of course she follows her to the restroom. Minors DNI. 

Word Count: 4k.  AO3 Link

Pt. 2

__________

You had standards. Admittedly, they were insanely high.

“Fuck off!” You shoved past your disappointment of a boyfriend, heels clacking with purpose. What was it with your luck these days? It had hardly been a month, and already he was grinding your gears. It seemed all the universe had to offer was one useless man after the next, and it was starting to become redundant.

You stormed into the ladies' restroom, pissed out of your mind. From the moment you’d met up at the club to party with his friends, he’d been the same; inattentive, dismissive, and rudely belittling. Worst yet, he only ever remembered your existence when there was an itch between his legs–and you wanted anything else but that.

“Mother fucker…” You muttered, eyeing the alcohol spilled on your expensive, tiny, off-the-shoulder, red dress. Sure, you were dating, but you hadn't done anything yet. Like every guy before him, sex in your mind was something to put off for as long as you could. You didn't get the hype–men were gross, annoying and sleazy–or at least, those were the excuses you told to yourself to avoid the obvious.

That maybe, just maybe…you simply weren't interested in men at all.

When your stiff reactions to his advances became clear as day, his slimy ass didn't give up. No–he had to try and trick you into stripping off your dress. Like hell you were dumb enough to follow him to a secluded part of the club just so he could “dry you off” after dumping half his fucking drink on you. That man was a walking red flag, and you were done. Either you were picking up another boy toy tonight, or calling it quits altogether.

At least, if he wasn’t standing right outside the bathroom door. Which, while you didn’t know that for certain…with the way he was acting tonight? It was highly plausible. 

“I should take my Louboutins," you groaned in frustration, hands gripping the sink counter, “and castrate him.”

“That…would definitely be a sight.”

You jumped, having not noticed someone else come in. You frowned, ready to tear this person disturbing you a new one before glancing to the side. Shit. You did a double take, and despite wanting to hide it, your eyes widened with fear.

No one in this club didn’t know that face, or that body. She was impossibly tall, with intimidating broad shoulders and a scowl formed by the devil himself. Sevika entered, and suddenly the bathroom felt too small for the both of you. Her presence alone was that overwhelming, making you suck in a shaky, terrified breath.

If having a problem with your boyfriend was a threat, having an issue with Silco’s right hand was a death wish…and no matter how prideful you were, even you knew better than to cross that line.

Well, at least you thought you did. Your friends would probably swear otherwise.

“I couldn’t help but see what happened back there. You made quite the scene.” Had you? Oh right–

–you splashed your entire drink over his head when his hands got too close to the hem of your dress, ignoring his sputter of surprise. You rose, downing his own shot of whiskey he claimed was too strong for you before wiping your glossy lips with the back of your hand.

“First of all jackass–even if we were the last people on earth, I’d rather jump off a building than have your nasty dick shoved up my ass. Seriously–what the fuck is that? It looks like you need to spend the night with a fucking doctor, not me.” You hadn’t seen shit, but yelling it loud enough would make him never set foot in this club ever again…and well, you were too mad to be nice anymore.

“Second? You’re boring as hell. Why don’t you go find a personality instead of spewing the same misogynistic shit every dude still living in their mom’s basement says? Yeah I’m hot, I’m stuck up, I’m a goddamn slut–but guess what?” You flipped him off as you gathered your things.

“This “stupid whore” still isn’t going to fuck you. So you know what you should do instead? Fuck off!” Oh. Looking back, you guessed you had made a bit of a scene. Was she here to kick you out? 

“And…?” You inwardly cursed at your disinterested tone, turning back to the mirror and eying your makeup. “I didn’t know you dealt with stuff like this." Were you egging her on? No, no, no–there was no way you were dumb enough to–

"...Being his right hand and all.” Fuck. You were egging her on. 

Your heart pounded in your chest, hairs standing up on the back of your neck. Where you expected a furious reaction, you were met with a look much, much worse. A devilish, downright sinister grin spread around her cigar. Tense, you studied her from the corner of your eyes, plagued over how she would eventually react. 

No matter what she does, she demands attention. Maybe her lack of retaliation was a tactic. If so, it was working. Your eyes were glued to her, and you had to admit, seeing Sevika simply standing there made your heart skip a beat. The woman was as equally captivating as she was terrifying, and this situation only made that fact more evident. 

Sure, her mechanical arm glinted like it was one twitch away from gutting you, but her clothes fit her like a glove. Those fine arms and the peek her top gave of her scar-riddled waist was damn near criminal. If I’m going to die tonight, I might as well get a closer look, right? 

You’d only ever seen her passing by or talking with a group of people equally as intimidating as she was. Now she was less than a few feet from you, and despite her smile, she didn't do anything at your snide remark. Rather, she let out a short puff of her cigar, smoke escaping past her lips with an easy chuckle.

Then, there was silence.

It would have been better if she reacted with rage. Anger was something you could handle. But this? She hadn’t said a word in response, yet you still felt like a caged animal. You were running out of things to fake your attention on while you watched her, dabbing the same patch of alcohol on your dress for the twentieth time. After several seconds passed, your patience ran thin.

I can't just stand here waiting for her to kill me. Who cared if that man was waiting for you outside, you needed to get out of the bathroom as soon as you possibly could. However, just as you thought it couldn’t get any worse, Sevika suddenly caught you staring at her through the mirror. Shit–! 

Quickly, you turned away, moving to open your purse as if you were busy. Sevika snorted, and you inwardly cringed. You were painfully aware of the long drag she took of her cigar. She let it out as a slow puff, shamelessly eyeing you up and down as she did. Where her gaze lingered, your body burned, and you weren’t sure whether it was from embarrassment or fear. Sevika moved to put her cigar out on the bathroom’s marble countertop, and you were certain that if anyone else had done so, Silco would have killed them.

Hands in her pockets, she took her time walking towards you. There wasn't any reason to rush, the both of you knew why.  

“I don’t.” Her voice this close was smooth, running down your spine as she stood behind you. 

“Not unless I can gain something from it.” Damnit. You calmed your pounding heart.

“You're cocky,” you raised your eyebrow at her through the mirror, “not that I’m surprised.” The corner of her lips twitched. You knew this was a dangerous game to be playing. It wasn't like you'd never seen her work before. In fact, you wished you never did. She didn't fight for an opponent to recover, no–if she didn't kill them, she broke them–and, you thought with horror, what if she did the same to you?

You looked away from her, becoming too scared to hold eye contact. However, there was no way in hell you were going to show her that. Instead, you pulled out lipgloss, intending to obnoxiously fix your makeup. The plan worked. 

Slowly, you dragged the strawberry shimmering substance across your top lip, and Sevika didn’t shift her gaze away. You spread the gloss over your bottom lip next, dramatically pressing them together to even it all out. The entire time, Sevika watched the action in a near predatory manner. The taller woman didn't look away when you spoke, lips drawing out a teasing statement.

"My eyes are up here, darling." To your surprise, the Sevika froze. It was less than a second, but you caught her off guard. It was clear you were the type to say a lot of bullshit, but to call her darling? When she was twice your height and width? Sevika thought you were something else. Definitely in over your head, but still… Her eyes narrowed, and she took a moment to study you, taking in the little shiver you tried to suppress. 

Cute. She wondered what it would take until you could no longer hide your fear, or even better, your trembling.

“Do you talk like this to everyone?” You paused at the tinge of annoyance in her voice. A part of you wanted to backtrack and profusely apologize. Another told you that was exactly what would get you killed. In the end, you played off freezing up by simply offering her a smirk.

“Please, you followed me all the way here…then expect me not to believe my attitude isn't what you like?” You were bluffing, sort of. Even if it was a fairly logical explanation, it was still hard to fathom the Sevika wanting you. It wasn’t like you weren’t a catch–being gracious, you considered yourself to be an 11/10–but you were still a nobody. Sevika was a name whispered in hushed voices out of fear that she might show up. Yours?

“You fucking bitch!” Banging came from the door, making you flinch in surprise. Sevika didn’t even move, eyes still trained on you. “I can’t believe you said all that shit–come out! You can’t stay in there forever!” Well, you didn’t even get the decency of someone actually using it. Fuck, I almost forgot about him. What were you going to do? He was right, you couldn’t just stay here–

Your focus was elsewhere, and perhaps that's why you missed her advances until it was too late.

“You’re right. I am interested. You walked in here looking like arm candy, only to explode and leave that man without a shred of dignity left. His company wasn’t worth your time, but mine?” When had she gotten so close that the heat from her body warmed the back of your neck?  She was bigger than you, that was obvious enough, but the proximity made it suffocating.

She loomed, making the air around you fill with earthy spice. Whatever she smoked, it was expensive. To your alarm, a large hand rested on the countertop to your right, and another to your left. You were caged in, and you didn’t dare move–not when the slightest shift created friction between you two, and Sevika’s eyes darkened in a way you knew all too well

“Sweetheart…” Her voice was an enticing rumble by your ear, and no amount of self control could stop you from shivering in delight. “I’ll do everything he could never do.” It was a bold claim, though you doubted it came without experience. That asshole is still out there…and the bathroom isn’t soundproof, right? 

You were a bitch alright. The worst of them all. To fuck Silco’s right hand man while your shitty ex heard it all? You couldn’t pass up a chance like that, even if it was dangerous. With a casual hum, you fixed a goading stare on Sevika through the mirror, prettily tilting your head to speak.

“Well…I suppose I can let you entertain me for a while.”

_______ 

You’d been in out of your head, that was for sure.

You’d never come across greed in the form of hands, let alone commanding ones. Sevika’s touch was everywhere; over your hips, waist, and breasts, as if she was trying to consume all of you at once. Your breath was faulty, tingling all over as her rough palms memorized the shape of your body. How was this so good, already? She had yet to even slip a hand underneath your dress, yet you felt naked. It was as if the barrier of the dress meant nothing, and her touch shot little fireworks through your skin regardless.

“W-wait...” You were breathless, gasping as a hand flicked over the peak of your breasts from over your dress.  You instinctively buckled, but an arm wrapped around your waist brought your back flush against her. Her metal arms reached up, soothing against your burning cheeks as Sevika held your face in her palm. 

“A word of advice?” Her voice was a sultry drawl, muddling your mind as she turned your face to look up at her, “don’t go biting off more than you can chew.”  

With that, she closed the distance between you two. The kiss was hot, carnal in nature as your lips parted and she took the invitation to kiss you deeper. It was focused and intense, with her hand holding your face exactly where she wanted it. You swore you were melting, becoming a puddle from that first kiss alone, and when she pulled away to look into your glossy eyes, Sevika smirked.

“You might just choke on it, darling.” She was never going to let that go. Too bad you weren’t known for not being petty either.

“Don’t flatter yourself,” You muttered just as a metal thumb brushed over your smeared glossy lips, “you go down smoother than wine.” The woman snorted, dark lips curling as she moved to kiss your bare shoulder.

“Is that so?” That was all the warning you were given. Suddenly, a hand on your back pushed you forward. You let out a startled gasp, hands slamming against the sink counter. 

“What are you doing?” Your pissed off words dwindled in your throat as Sevika finally slipped her hands under your dress to hike it up over your ass. A hand gripped the side of your panties, and in a split second you knew the answer to your own question. 

“No, wait–!” The sound of threads breaking apart made your heart stutter, and your eyes widened as Sevika unceremoniously ripped your underwear right off you. That was expensive! 

“What the fuck is your–ow!” Another forceful shove had you completely on the countertop, sideways with your heat exposed to the towering woman before you. You huffed, shuddering under the dark eyes tracing over every part of you. Sevika looked at you like she had been starving for weeks, her own chest heaving as she hummed. She let the fabric in her hand drop to the floor, stepping towards you and making your breath hitch in your throat.

“There’s no difference whether you wear it…” Her hand caressed the inside of your thigh, gently spreading your legs so she could step between them, “or not.” 

Oh God. You watched with wide eyes as she lowered herself, shrinking her overwhelming shadow until she was kissing the top of your neck. She trailed down, leaving her marks everywhere until she got to the top of your dress.

She took a single finger to pull the garment down, exposing your breasts for her to adore. You moaned as hot lips suckled them, breaths shallow as you crumbled underneath her.

“Ah…shit, my fucking heels…” She chucked into your chest as you struggled to kick them off. They loudly clattered onto the bathroom floor, but you didn’t care, able to wrap your bare feet around Sevika’s waist now. A bite was given as a reward, and you jolted in pleasure, hands moving to caress the side of Sevika’s face. 

Again, the woman was surprised by you, pausing at the gentle touch you offered. Usually, when she picked up cute little things like you, they were too scared to dare touch her back. Even if they were lost in pleasure, it seemed no one could see past the metal arm, or the power Sevika held. 

However, from the moment she’d entered the bathroom you treated her no differently than anyone else. If anything, you were more aware than most–the way you studied her like a prey looking at a predator told her so–yet despite that, you’d sneered and judged her anyway. Now, her eyes flickered up to look at you, taking in your rosy cheeks and lopsided smile, eyes half-lidded as you spoke.

“You're laughing? Those shoes cost my entire paycheck, jackass. No way I’m messing them up just for you.” Your nose scrunched up in an adorable little snarl, or what Sevika believed was supposed to be one. It hardly did the job of one. Rather than appearing threatening, your attitude only invited her to do more.

“Poor thing,” She muttered, mouth trailing down over your dress until she got to your exposed ass, “it must be hard being so high maintenance.” The mocking words earned her a glare, but it quickly disappeared as her hot breath tickled the inside of your thighs.

“How about this,” your breath grew rugged as she nibbled on your sensitive skin, full on biting to garner a shuddering gasp from you. Her deep voice switched into a commanding tone, and it was hypnotizing, making you hang on every word.

“If you take this well and let out that pretty little voice of yours, you won’t have to worry about ruining another pair ever again.” Her hot breath against your dewy folds only made them soak more, and you bit your lip. Your voice was weak as you attempted a retort.

“And if I don’t?” She scoffed, hands shifting to hold your legs shamelessly wide apart. You swallowed at the firm grip–there was no way you could get out of that–and when Sevika saw the realization finally start to set in your eyes, her lips curled up into a wicked smile.

“Trust me, you will.”

_______

“W-wait–it’s already been–ah!” Frankly, you’d never been so disrespected in your life. Sevika did what she wanted, in the most devastating way possible, leaving you a shivering mess clinging to the mirror behind you in an attempt to pull yourself away. She was skillful–too skillful–turning you into a numb puddle of ecstasy only to go down on you again. Was she never satisfied?

"F-fuck…" Her tongue did wonders, making your back arch and voice cry out. God, was it rude–the way she simply pressed harder whenever you tried to cling onto some sliver of dignity, relentless until you did exactly as she told. The gruff mutter of louder, against your folds before she went right back to her assault had you spiraling, shuddering as you attempted to comply.

“Shit, Se-Sevika–” That wasn’t good enough, and suddenly she focused more on your twitching bud, quickly turning you into a blubbering mess.

“Wait–please–it’s good! Fuck–God…” Tears filled your eyes as you whimpered, hands weakly gripping fistfuls of Sevika’s hair. You felt her lips smile, smug as she simply continued. This bitch–! The burning in your core built up, and you let out a string of profanities as you reached your peak once again. In the midst of it you hit your head against the glass behind you, though you hardly processed it. However, Sevika did, just now starting to realize how bunched up you were on the countertop. 

“Here,” it was all she said before she flipped you over, lifting you up at the waist with her mechanical arm. She brought your back flush against her again. However, this time she held you up completely, toes only occasionally brushing against the floor. Processing this new position made your cheeks burn and swallow nervously, your voice hoarse as you complained.

“I can barely reach the floor…” The slight embarrassment at your height difference didn’t go unnoticed by Sevika. She snorted, then hoisted you higher up against her, until you dangled like a rag doll in the mirror.

“I’ll hold you up here…” She tightened her grip around your waist, and her other hand snaked downward, “and here.” 

Without another word, she plunged two fingers deep into your heat. You buckled, nails digging into her metal arm as she fell into a torturous rhythm. 

"Ha–ah." You couldn't handle yourself, squirming in pleasure. They were so impossibly thick, making you struggle just to properly breathe. Your knuckles turned white as you held onto her, neck arched back to look at her through teary eyes.

"Se-Sevika, ple-ase, it's good–so good–" You were reduced to barely comprehensible babbling. Sevika herself had furrowed eyebrows, cheeks colored with a tinge of pink. Pretty... Mindlessly you reached up with a shaky hand, softly pulling her face down to kiss her. You felt her lips falter against yours for a moment, but when she kissed you back it was the kindest she’d ever been. It was sensual, and she tasted you as if you were a sweet delicacy she wanted to be tender with.

Though, her hand was anything but gentle.

You gasped against her lips, letting out a strangled sound of startled delight as she drilled her fingers into you faster, deeper thrusts making your toes curl and legs straighten out.

“Shit!” It was the only word you could muster as you saw stars again, overwhelmed with pleasure before finally the euphoria ebbed away. Mercifully, Sevika finally stopped–though you weren’t sure if it was because you physically deflated in her grasp, or because she was actually satisfied. 

Vaguely, you sensed her gently setting you down on the bathroom counter to wipe you down and fix your dress. Your shoes were retrieved and placed back onto your feet, and you mindlessly giggled when Sevika’s touch tickled them. A murmur of hold onto me, had your arms lazily wrapping around her neck, and before you knew it she was carrying you in her arms and out the door.

“Finally, now who the hell were you fucking–!” You had completely forgotten about your ex boyfriend, but now he stood in shock, looking up at Sevika carrying you bridal style. You offered a weak, sneering smile, lifting your hand to flip him off. You could see the anger boil up in his eyes before it sputtered out at Sevika’s warning glare, and with a huff he stomped away, pushing through the crowd.

At that you laughed until your exhaustion quickly took over, snuggling into the body holding you. Sevika stiffened before relaxing, and as she began to make her way out of the club she muttered with a raspy voice into your ear.

“Sleep. You did a good job for me, darling.” The praise made you sleepily smile, and you lifted your head to peck the corner of her lips.

“Mmh…” You wanted to say something witty like, and you were good entertainment, or something, but your mind was shutting down faster than you could speak, slumping completely in her arms as you fell asleep. 

While you pleasantly slept, Sevika simply stood. 

She was frozen, and the place where you’d kissed her tingled more than anything you’d done before. For a moment, she stared down at your squished face against her chest. The noise of the entire club grew silent in her mind. 

When she moved again, it was with a loud grunt. Others around her shuffled out of the way in fear she was angry, but Sevika knew herself that she was feeling an emotion much, much worse. 

[manchesterau]

my thoughts after reading my policeman: SPOILERSS of course!! (ignore spelling or grammar mistakes) (this is very ramble-y and not as in depth as it could have been sorrryyy lol, if you want specifics send me an ask after reading this)

okay...so i read the book in 3 days....which....im very proud of myself bc it takes me so long to finish books but that’s not why you are reading this.

im not going to lie to you...i liked the book. i love angst, and this had plenty of it and i liked it. if you like books such as: harry potter, six of crows, red queen, red white and royal blue you will not like this book. i know many people found it boring, which yeah i can see that, but i didn't find it boring at all. but mostly because i love boring books but that's beside the point. 

the book flowed easily, there isn't a bunch of raunchy sex scenes that ive seen people say it has (i...the things ive read idk what book they even read????) and Tom does has backward views on marriage and what it means to be a wife. but he is not overtly sexist or misogynist or abusive, or subvertly those things either. to be frank he's a scared gay man in the 50s trying to not get caught and thrown in jail. that's literally it. (ill go more into detail on him later). but if you want to read this book i recommend you go in knowing that there will be homophobia (the word queer is used as a slur....3 times or 4 but no more than 5), expect outing, expect not supportive characters, and remember to have some compassion (more on this later).

next i want to go into characters: starting with tom, then Marion, then Patrick, and then the other characters. so if you are planning on reading this book or just dont want to be spoiled them....don't read the next bit.

Tom:

I'm going to get this out of the way.........Tom (who we never get to know outside of the two-point of views we are presented with, and who is being played by Harry) is a police officer in the 50s UK. to be frank when the rumors first went around I was mad like a lot of people were, which is funny because when we got those pictures of harry reading the book before all the speculation we were....happy, that he was reading a book about a gay man. now...I don't care honestly. I could call out the hypocrites (i won't) and honestly I'm hypocritical myself. I use to watch shows like svu (if you were to turn it on right now I wouldn't turn it off) and I enjoyed watching svu. I know and have seen a lot of mutuals, people on my dash enjoy cop shows like b99, or who like actors who have played the character of police before. so it would be hypocritical of me to be mad at him (this is just my single black opinion) and then go and turn on svu (which I don't do anymore). 

I'm not saying that no one can be mad, I'm not saying that the anger people have at him playing this role is bad or not needed or valid. all I'm saying is.....is that I don't care. I got angry over this months ago, and all that anger I felt I don't have anymore, and I can't tell you why. Harry is playing an abusive demented husband who traps his wife in a simulation, and then he will play a gay policeman trying not to face persecution..........and that's that. nothing I can say will reach him, he's playing these roles and there is nothing I can do. will I watch them (pirating of course) yes.

anyways let's get back to tom's character (do not use my opinion to silence other black people I will find you....don't do that shit weirdo): tom is......tom?? like I literally was expecting the worst when I read this because of what other people had to say. but as I'm reading him through the eyes of Marion (his wife) and through the eyes of Patrick (his...true love, fuck the 50s I hate the 50s) one word came to mind constantly: scared. Tom is very scared that he will be found out and his life will be ruined. His family knows about him, which is why I think his father (more on him later) pushed him to be in the national service (where he was a cook, which disappointed him). you don't realize his family knows and then his sister says something and then you go 'wait....THEY KNEW???' and then you will go 'oh so that's why-' 

tom does have old fashion views that you would expect of any man at that time (gay or not it's the 50s and gay men are still capable of saying sexist shit). when asked by Patrick if women should still work after having a kid he said no it's the men's job to provide, Marion said she would like to keep working, he said no when they do have a baby (they literally never did, and idk why he thought he could be intimate with her for that long to produce a baby lol). that's....the most sexist thing he said in the whole book (there maybe some small things im forgetting but nothing that really stood out). that's it. I know it's not small and that was a legitimate issue in the 50s but yeah. Just in case you were apprehensive about Tom's character being a raging woman-hater, no,....he just wasn't a true feminist yet (???? I don't know that's like..the most this book says about an issue women were facing at this time). It's still bad what he said (you'll see how Marion justifies it in the book and both Patrick and her don't agree and try and challenge him on his view).

i dont want to go too in depth but it is very obvious from the beginning he has no and i mean ZEROOOO interest in her at all (you can tell when it hits him that he needs a wife and he starts to act a littleee different but it's not romantic at alll). 

i feel like my review on tom is shit but like!! we don't really get to know him without bias from Patrick and Marion. I think Harry will play a wonderful Tom (even tho he doesn't not fit the description for Tom...at all....like at alllll).

To summarize Tom: very scared gay man from the 50s who is trying to do everything he can to not be found out. his family knows, even he knew at a young age, and yes he does quit being a police officer but it doesn't happen as soon as id like but then again he wasn't one for that long if you pay attention to the years.

Marion:

😑 

i just...if yall could see the notes i made on her.....

To summarize Marion: SHE IS LIVING IN LALA LAND, TOM LITERALLY SHOWS HER NO ROMANTIC INTEREST AT ALLL, AND WHEN SHE METS PATRICK FOR THE FIRST TIME SHE FREAKING NOTICES THAT HE'S ALL BLUSH-Y AND SHIT LIKE...GIRL.....

this is a note i wrote that sums up her and tom's relationship (which is more like friends then anything romantic i mean god their honeymoon was horrible and he proposed to her....nvm 😑)

listen...i can't lie and say i didn't feel sorry for her up until the end when she (spoilers: she outs patrick to his employer which ends up with him getting arrested). after that...ive never hated a character more in my fucking LIFEEEE like oh my god i was pissed

all she does is have fantasies about him being romantic with her (holding hands, hugging, etc) and none of them come true...BECAUSE HES GAYYYYYY i really....the author could have done a better job because there were so many damn red flags.

she's fucking annoying and whiny and yeah it sucked to be a woman in the 50s but you literally outed someone your husband was in love with and thought that you could just go back to being married like he's not devastated and instead of telling what you did you stayed unhappy and made your husband thing that at any point they were coming for him too.......*****

Patrick:

PATRICKKKKK

Patrick and tom deserved a fighting fucking chance i hate the fuck 50s fuck you 50s!!!! I absolutely LOVEDDD his pov and seeing Tom through his pov like it was just so damn refreshing seeing the world through his eyes and how he navigates his queerness in the society they live in. (the dichotomy between a proud gay man and a scared maybe proud but fear overrules that (talking about Tom here) gay man).

There was a lot more to say on how gay men were being persecuted at this time than how women were treated in this particular book. There were some little things here and there about what was expected of Marion as a wife and of a girl/woman at that time but it wasn't the focus.

I loved seeing the way Patrick navigated through his world of art and creativity. And how Tom seemed to fit right in with him.

I hate the things the author made Patrick go through (outed, sent to prison, stripped of his job, and later on in the present day he has had 2 strokes in his 70s). it felt a bit much but it's not too distracting (Patricks pov takes place in the past as he writes in his journal). 

Patrick and Julia (more on her later) are my two favorites in the whole book (Tom is third bc he's a very multi-facted character, Marion is not even on the list) and I wish we got a lot more of Patrick's pov.

Other characters!! (speed round bc this is wayyy too long):

Syvlie (Tom's sister): SYVLIEEE IM MAD AT YOUU I WAS ROOTING FOR YOU WHYY WHYYY

Julia: JULIAAAAA QUEEENNN (you'll see why i love her at the end) 

Tom's parents: his father is abusive point-blank. or at least i think he's abusive (verbally). as im writing this i am now realizing that the way Tom's mom reacts to him (sometimes crying) is bc they knew he was gay omg wow.

tom's dad is very much a man's man guy?? Picture a sexist man from the 50s....now picture him with a gay son.....yeah, I'm not surprised Tom went into national service then to the police force. you can tell he didn't want anyone to find out about Tom so he pushed him to do what he thought best and Tom went with it, scared. 

overall: please do not go into this book expected things to be all flowers and rainbows...this is a book about two gay men in the 50s yall.....

there is something to be said about the tragedy that is in a lot of queer stories, I'm more interested in how white these stories are (that's a rant for another time). but I don't mind my policeman, and i think stories like this should be told. because this actually happened (here is a link to em forster's story where the author takes inspiration from, he really had an affair with a policeman!!! who had a wife!!!).

the ending is bittersweet, and i couldn't help but curse for what could have been. Marion could have not outed Patrick (which she instantly regretted), she could have gotten a divorce (she even contemplated it), they could have been more secretive, Julia could have not said what she said. I think Patrick and Tom were sadly doomed from the start, I just wish they had more time together because I loved seeing their love (the little glimpse we got) bloom into something bigger than them.

thank you for reading!! here are random screenshots of my notes as i read this lol enjoy!!

can’t*

[yoonpobs]

manners maketh women | jjk

pairing: jeon jungkook x oc

genre: kingsman!AU (loosely inspired lol), enemies to enemies basically (some sexual tension)

warnings: mentions of blood, enemies, dismantling the patriarchy

words: 2, 637

summary: kingsman or alternatively you trying to dismantle the patriarchy by pissing off your partner

“You’re a fucking psychopath!” Valentine spits at you with bloodied gums while he lays on the floor with all the will to live beaten out of him.

You’re much better off. Of course you were. You wouldn’t let someone as vile or unimportant as Valentine ruin your pantsuit because while you thought the establishment was exorbitant, it was still costly and made you look like a bad bitch.

“Says the one who planted chips into people’s head only to blow them up.” You roll your eyes, tossing your blazer over your shoulder as Merlin sighs at the scene behind you when you cock your head towards the pitiful soon-to-be prisoner.

“I thought we said no damage.”

You shrug.

“This is no damage. Couldn’t help that my hand slipped.” You return.

Merlin is about to retort but your teammate stomps out of the abandoned church with his eyes narrowed to your figure that retreats to the comfort of your car.

You almost forget that you weren’t on this mission alone until the presence of your partner appears by your side and you’ve worked with him long enough to know that he’s shooting daggers on the side of your forehead.

“We agreed to bring him back in one piece.” Jungkook snarls at you.

You see that he’s way worse off compared to you. But it could have alluded to the fact that he warded off the rest of the guards that ambushed the two of you when you first arrived. The priority was finding Valentine and making sure that he was captured and under your scrutiny, so you agreed to head off first while Jungkook did the dirty work.

“His limbs are still attached to his body, I don’t see how I didn’t uphold to the end of our agreement?” You stop in your tracks, causing Jungkook to skid in his steps as his chest makes contact with your back.

When you turn around, he’s absolutely furious but that only spurs on the wide grin that appears on your face.

“Valentine looks like he’s been through six wars and a botched plastic surgery attempt!” He hisses.

You roll your eyes, folding your arms across your chest as you take in Jungkook’s growing rage. He’s never been the level-headed one between the two of you but you were also the more infuriating one. You were fully aware of that and you were going to use it to your advantage. You didn’t beckon your way through the misogynistic Kingsman system to be bossed around by some stereotypical posh man who didn’t know how to take no for an answer.

“And that’s what he deserved. I did what I had to do, Jeon.” You retort as venomously as he had.

Jungkook literally growls and you know you’ve annoyed him further because he was the typical Kingsman agent that attempted to uphold all the core values and paraded around the base with the manners maketh man phrase that he loved to milk. You, on the other hand, didn’t believe in that shit at all because you were not mannered and neither were you a man. Jungkook walked the ground like he had a stick up his ass half the time and you had no time to deal with his uptightness.

“We are on a mission, Lancelot. I go by Galahad.” He reminds you but you wave him off, turning around to head towards your car.

Jungkook grits his teeth as he sees Merlin drag a detained Valentine—who leaves a trail of blood in his path—to the van where he’d be brought back to the cells. He couldn’t believe that you had the audacity to go against direct orders from your superior like that! But at the same time, you’ve pulled things like this more than once and rubbed Jungkook the wrong way every time you’d brush off any lament that came from him.

He doesn’t think you were incapable of being a Kingsman agent, although it hasn’t always been that way. But he did believe that you should at least uphold the fundamental values that made Kingsman the reputable secret service it was.

“You act like Jeon is the worst of the names I call you.” You snort.

Jungkook wants to remind you that it’s not and he’s aware but he’s highly exhausted after fending off numerous men on his own while you got to catch the largest bait of the day, your pantsuit hardly creasing in the process.

“Would it kill you to follow orders?” Jungkook snaps.

The two of you reach the car and he snatches the keys from your palm before you can step into the driver’s seat. You raise an eyebrow at his gesture and look him up and down before your bored eyes rest upon his still pinched expression.

“If we get pulled over the police are going to think you’re a runaway.”

Jungkook scowls but enters the car anyway. You follow him shortly into the passenger seat as you immediately tug off the band that kept your hair in a ponytail as you ruffle your hair, slipping off the heels off your feet. You found it absurd that the agency demanded you wear heels onto a field mission purely because it was the Kingsman brand. It wasn’t like you couldn’t fight in them but obviously, it made you slightly slower than you’d like.

“You’re going to shut up and not say a single word during the ride back because I’ve had enough of that smart ass mouth of yours.” Jungkook snaps.

“It’s cute that you think I’m going to listen to you, Jeon.” You pat his thigh in consolation and he just curses under his breath.

Jungkook doesn’t have the energy to argue back because, for every remark he makes, he’s sure you have at least ten responses phrased in different ways to respond with.

“If you called me in for a staring contest then I’m afraid we have to reschedule. I’ve got a bottle of wine and some fried chicken waiting for me in my quarters.” You deadpan.

The man who sits in front of you is unnerved and you expect no less from the current Director of Kingsman. It also wasn’t the first time you’ve sat before him with the very same look marring his face. You know what the conversation is going to be about and he knows that you know.

“Agent Lancelot—”

You scoff when you lean forward, narrowing your eyes at your superior before he purses his lips at your gesture.

“How many times did I tell you to ditch the alias? It’s unnecessary especially since we’re in your office which is debatably the most vaulted place in all of the Kingsman quarters. It isn’t like Valentine is going to come crawling through the vents and demand for my birth certificate.”

Namjoon pinches the bridge of his nose because when he hired you after you—impressively—passed the most gruesome and intense interview process with a blink of your eye, he didn’t know what to expect when he took the risk of recruiting the first-ever woman Kingsman.

But now that it’s been years since you’ve made a name for yourself and all other keen women who were looking for the opportunity to train as an agent, he realised that you were not just a skilled agent but a sharp and impenetrable fortress that would never let anyone tell her what to do.

Which was frankly—inconvenient—given the nature of Kingsman work that often relied on partnership and collaboration. But those words weren’t in your dictionary and Namjoon can see the way you look bored before the conversation started as you sit in front of him with a blank expression on your face.

“It’s nice to see you, ______,” Namjoon says dryly, clasping his fists together before leaning forward on his elbows that your faces are closer.

“Are you going to call me out for disobeying orders and bringing back Valentine like butchered meat? If you want an apology then you know you’re not going to get it,” You say blankly before turning in the swivel chair; already halfway off before Namjoon stops you.

“Jungkook has been telling me that you’ve been harder to work with recently.” Namjoon points out.

You scoff.

“Of course he’ll say that. I’m the better agent in the partnership and it bruises his puny masculine ego. Tell him to shove it and deal with it because it’s going to get harder.”

Namjoon shoots you an unimpressed glare before he wills himself to maintain a decent amount of level-headedness as he reasons with you.

“The both of you are talented agents—” Namjoon says slowly and you know he’s only saying that to appease you and not break his neutrality when it came to agents so you roll your eyes at his attempt, “—and because the two of you are always going on the most important missions it’s imperative that you work together.”

“Namjoon.” You blink, “Jeon is the most infuriating individual I have been condemned to meet and I literally have no idea why you won’t just switch me out with—I don’t know—Jin or something. He isn’t as mouthy or pretentious as Jeon.”

Namjoon sighs.

“Firstly, why can’t you ever call him by his first name? And secondly—you know why I can’t do that. Jin is in-charge of international operations and we need you here on domestic land. You and Jungkook are the most qualified agents of the region and it is in my best interest, as well as the nations to have you two work together.”

You wave him off before you push yourself off the chair completely, offering a sloppy salute out to his direction and you see Namjoon’s shoulder deflate at your stubbornness. But before you’re even able to make your way out of the door, you see a face that makes you scowl.

“Talking shit about me behind my back, babe?” Jungkook narrows his eyes at you.

You snort.

“If I wanted to talk shit about you, I’d do it to your face so I can watch your fragile ego shatter in front of my eyes. And—if you don’t want your balls detached from your body and served to you as a door gift then I suggest you never call me babe ever again.”

You’re about to push past him but his hand reaches for your shoulder and stops you with a tight grip as you snap your head to glare at him. You’re about to throw him off you, literally, but Jungkook is also skilled and he sees the telltale signs of your anger for him to defend himself against your attack.

When you pull his arm to lug his body over yours, he manages to lock your grip and bring you into a headlock—chest pressed to your back as he breathes down your hair while you feel the cocky smirk of his spread across his face.

“Let go of me you fucking shithead.” You snarl.

Jungkook snorts and only tightens his grip on you, twisting your chin between his thumb and index finger so you’re glaring directly at his face that is only a mere inches away from yours to give you a taunting grin that you want to slap off his face.

“You’ll never outdo the doer—” He whispers so low that it almost seems like it’s just the two of you, “—baby.”

You take that as a chance to knee him in the stomach and shove him away before you dust your hands on your pants, only to remember that you were still in Namjoon’s office and he likely saw the show that the two of you put on.

“I … I’m going to pretend I didn’t see that,” Namjoon clears his throat before gesturing to the two of you to take a seat as if you weren’t seconds away from walking out that door.

“Look, Namjoon—we—I—don’t need this group therapy session with him, okay? The two of us can work together but that doesn’t mean I’ll listen to what he says. His judgement is clouded by the systemic oppression that Kingsman entrenches to their agents and I won't stand for that.”

Jungkook’s fists tighten at your blatant disrespect to the organisation that employed you, and he remembers every reason why he hates you so much.

“_____,” Namjoon sighs, “I don’t understand why you walked into that interview years ago if you hate everything that Kingsman stands for.”

You clench your fists by your side because of course, he didn’t understand. And of course, Jungkook, Jimin, Jin and even Merlin didn’t understand. They didn’t need the luxury of understanding a system that favoured people like them.

“Then let me spell it out for you both,” You say emphasise each word with a spit.

Jungkook clenches his jaw but remains silent.

“I walked into that interview knowing I was going to ace that shit because I owed that first step to all the women that were used and abused by your Kingsmen. The women that were offered comfort for sex to only be shunned and disposed of by the esteemed agents you call Kingsmen. I am not a Kingsman and I am not Lancelot. I am ______ ______ and I’m a woman who fucking owned every single one of those male agents that day who decided to snicker and laugh at me when they wouldn’t be able to ever walk a mile in my shoes. I’m here because I have a point to prove.”

Namjoon is stunned to silence and you don’t know what triggers your outburst but you suppose its years of repression and having to work alongside a male peer that only sees you as impressive because of your gender and not because of your skills. The comments rubbed you the wrong way and you never looked back since.

“_______ …” Namjoon begins but you glare at him and that’s enough to send him silent.

But you see the way Jungkook’s jaw twitches and you know that sign well enough to know he’s about to say something you won’t like.

“That’s it? All the anger, bitchiness and attitude for you to prove a point?” Jungkook scoffs, “You’re that pathetic?”

“Jungkook—” Namjoon warns.

“You walked into this life and you need to deal with the consequences. I don’t give two shits your intention in Kingsman but you’re here and you’re working for the Kingsman so you better suck all that bitterness up or leave. Don’t you dare disrespect the foundation of what a Kingsman is.” Jungkook hisses.

The expression on your face is thunderous and Jungkook has never seen you like that, ever. Not even when the two of you were arguing head to head and everyone else thought someone was going to end up hurt. No, this is much more … threatening. A look that’s so unfamiliar but familiar enough because it’s the first time he’s seen it directed to him.

“I wonder why you’re so overprotective about the Kingsman name, hm?” You say blankly, “Is it because that your entire identity revolves around it? That you’ve never seen a world with eyes when you weren’t a Kingsman? You’re pathetic, Jeon. You’re nothing without the title but at least I know what I want. You don’t. You’re just hiding behind the suit and weapons to make you feel like a man but you’re just a sorry excuse of a human being that only sees the world through a bigoted lens.”

Jungkook is about to retort but you’re faster, and the action alarms both Namjoon and Jungkook when you—

“I quit.” You smile.

The badge and your key weapon with nothing but a slam to the table.

“______—“ Namjoon stands up but you don’t spare him another glance before you’re out the door.

[minetteskvareninova]

Minette watches Victoria season 3, part 6 (A Coburg Quartet)

- Hoo, boy, where to start? Well, probably with the title - because uncle Leopold is back, baby! He doesn’t do nearly enough to save this episode, but his mere presence is enough to make me scream with joy.

- This is such a victorian episode it’s not even funny. Phrenology? Emotionally abusive husbands? Fancy dress? Scandal over the queen *gasp* being seen taking care of her kids?

- This episode starts nicely, with the domestic Victoria and Albert, probably just to twist the knife further when this episode descends into DRAMA. And I think they might have overdone it a little. Albert believing Feodora over Victoria? Possible, even if I don’t like it? Culmination of the tensions between Feodora and Victoria? Yeah, baby, bitches fightiiing. Albert being a condescending jerk? Fine, he sometimes does do that. But him just full on gaslighting his wife? Admitting he doesn’t love her anymore? No, stop, fuck you, that’s not my Albae anymore, that’s some kind of terrible misogynist caricature! Feodora wanting to actually SEDUCE Albert?! NO GOD WHY ARE YOU PUTTING SUCH IMAGES IN MY HEAD... Feodora will have a nice hatesex with Palmers the next episode, and that will be the end of it!

- Albert being the one to believe in phrenology makes way too much sense. On the other hand, what doesn’t make sense is him being this much worse than Vicky in parenting. You know, it’s almost funny to see Albert call Eddikins stupid when he’s being the biggest dumbass the room. I officially hate this subplot and curse every kind word I ever wrote about it.

- I’ve seen people calling out Victoria on her behavior this episode, mostly because of that slap. On the other hand, what bugs me is that she threw that stupid plaster head on the ground and not in Albert stupid smug face. And yet I still don’t hate Albert... I hate the writers. Go fuck yourself, Daisy. You officially ruined my best boy.

- Shock and horror, little Vicky acts like a normal kid this episode! And I actually still like Eddikins, despite all the stupid shit around him.

- Palmers is still the MVP, and this time he’s assisted by uncle Leopold as the only two people in the room with any braincells. Well, except for Feodora, who uses hers for evil. On the other hand, she looked really fetching in that riding suit... Daisy, Palmers and Feodora hatesex when?

- Do not even try to make me believe for a second Albert could have sex with Feodora! I guess Feodora herself could think that’s plausible, but there is no way in hell a man married to Jenna Coleman would go for a “kinda pretty in a good light and a snazzy hat” middle aged lady. On the other hand, Palmers’ wife looks a bit like Feodora, so she’s definitely his type... Okay, okay, I’ll stop, but you have to understand, I need this ship to keep my sanity in the face of Albert’s character assassination.

- I actually liked Victoria’s fancy dress a lot! The ones Albert and Feodora wore, on the other hand, were hideous, especially Albert’s wig. Palmers wore an extremely stupid looking wig, but it’s Palmers, so he was still the most charming man in the room (although the fact that the rest of the men there also wore stupid wigs probably helped). Duchess of Monmouth looked fine as a scullery maid or whatever.

- Speaking of, the useless love triangle! You can tell I am not the most invested in this subplot, since these two fucked for the first time last episode and I didn’t even mention it. Throughout all of this, I care about one thing, and one thing only: will this subplot end with Boring Blonde’s asshole husband getting hurt, humiliated or killed? I don’t care that much about Boring Blonde or Joseph the Himbo, but I really, really want to see this dude suffer. He is supremely hateable, and even pisses me off more than Daisy. Which is saying something.

- Also, re: the asshole’s grandmother. I couldn’t find anyone with the title “duke of Monmouth”, apart from, get this, fucking James Scott. You know, the oldest of the many bastard of king Charles II. The one who organized a rebellion against James II. and got killed for his trouble. In short, not only wasn’t asshole’s grandmother real, so probably wasn’t the asshole himself, or the Boring Blonde for that matter.

[misskittysmagicportal]

All You’ve Got Is Gold Part 1

FandomAU!: Billy Delaney/Cormac McNamara x Female OC

Warnings: Slight NSFW, mostly steamy fluff.  Guys this ended up being long as fuck.  And it’s really only chapter one. Or Part 1.

Jeanie leaned over the bar at Ewan's to pour herself another whiskey, ignoring the bartender as he chastised her. "C'mon lass, don't the wee ones file in to the grounds tomorrow?"

"Wee?" she gulped around her swallow. "Ewan, they're pubescent. You know me though, I like to have a bit of a glow every new semester. That way the parents think I'm truly invested in the well-being of the brats." Jean waved her glass around in the air. "Ok, not brats. Most of them are well-behaved and genuinely interested in learning. Not like the little bastards in America. I'd have 40 to a classroom back there. Saint Fergus barely has 40 students in the entire school."

Ewan took it as a sign and gave her a generous pour one more time, "Heard you cannae keep any professors for the pay. But your husband-"

"EX. As of last spring," Jean corrected.

"EX-husband found some new blood in a few of his University students."

"Aye," Jeanie imitated the Scottish brogue with perfection. "They're all in the corner over there with Dr Purves now."

She had half a decade to assimilate to the culture of the small, boring town just outside of Aberdeen where she followed Gordon and married him without any family or a job. He became head of the Physics and STEM department at the University of Aberdeen, working on projects and female students alike. Jeanie, having abandoned her Master's in Education, was really only qualified to student-teach at a local boarding school. Before long, lack of interest and the economy drove the numbers down to four or five dozen and a position of Headmistress open. At least it was a place to live and an existence that kept her mind off everything else.

"I would say don't look now, because here comes one of his students, but my darling who can keep their eyes off him." Ewan pointed behind his friend with damn near literal hearts in his eyes.

Jeanie glanced over her shoulder as a young man, early 20s? She couldn't tell. But he approached her at the bar. Her first glance became a double, and nearly a stare. Embarrassed, she whipped her head around quickly and blushed in Ewan's general direction. "Sweet Virgin Mary," she exhaled under her breath.

"I normally go by Delaney, but I suppose in certain company Mary will do," a soft Irish lilt.

Jean slow blinked as the bartender broke into a cheshire grin. She took a deep breath and turned towards the man now beside her and held out her hand. Blood pulsing in her ears because.. he was stunning. "Brave of a Celt to set foot in the land of Picts. Even braver for him to be in the presence of the biggest asshole in all of Scotland."

"Well from what I've heard she's more of an Ice Queen than an asshole," he squinted before smiling brightly. Green eyes sparkling in the low light of the bar. "Your.. partner put me up to it anyways. You know, say the bit about the ice. Sorry," he blushed but still held on to her hand firmly. "I've heard you're rather pleasant from the others. Just aloof as it were"

"EX!" Ewan and Jean exclaimed together, and the young man blinked responsively. "No sorries. Cold-hearted bitch is what some of the 6th years call me when I confiscate their illegals. Headmistress Jean Turner, but the two friends I have call me Jeanie. Drink?"

"Just one? I'll take 5. I have to catch up with the others." He hooked a thumb at the group of obnoxious men groping the female students who hung off of them as if they were celebrities. Taking what he was offered, chugging it quickly and shuddering. "Billy. Delaney it is. Well occasionally."

Jeanie and Ewan watched as he basically pounded every shot placed in front of them. Squinting off and on, as if he was trying to adjust to the ambiance. "Is it hot? It's hot in here. God I hate people. Those people. I will never fit in with the misogynists and knobs who prefer rugby and football to actually learning about the world." He pulled at the collar of his sweater before taking it off and draping it over Jeanie's chair. He wore a striped tee shirt underneath "Sorry. Sorry. I've got my nose in tech and books and maths algorithms most days. I forget how to socialize, so I really just want to blend in with the norms."

"You.. are.. fit." Ewan sputtered.

Billy snapped back to attention, his mind having drifted off to the same group Jeanie's eyes kept staring at. "What?"

"He's saying you are fucking fit, mate" Jeanie gaped.

"My body? I'm not really certain about that. I'm rather spindly wouldn't you say?” he shrugged while his cheeks flushed profusely. "My arms? Is it my arms? I swim. Clears my head from all the clutter." He was rambling now.

Jeanie and Ewan started laughing. "Relax! we're taking the piss, love. Your every move is being scrutinized. Now why abouts did Dr Purves send you over here? Surely he has fucking with me on his mind. Not unusual, humiliation has always been the name of the game."

Billy made a gesture that resembled adjusting non-existent glasses. He immediately dropped his hand and pulled a tenner out of his pocket. "To melt the ice, Gordon said. He gave me ten quid to hit on you."

"One of his students. What a lovely parting gift. I guess you're worth the loss of the house and the car," Jeanie stood back slightly to properly size him up.

Billy bit the entirety of his bottom lip, furrowing his brows, "I reckon you're worth more than a tenner to sleep with."

Jeanie blinked a few times, head tilted to the side to make sure she heard correctly. "SEX?!" she laughed, unable to help herself. "I don't exactly know what all of this," she waved her hand down his body, "would be doing even in the vicinity of sleeping with this," pointing to her own.

Confusion came over his face, "Am I supposed to be.. Is there something wrong with you that I don't notice? I, I can be kind of oblivious to loads. I think, really, Gordon goaded me into coming over here for my benefit as much as his amusement. I don't have too much experience, but you seem quite lovely you know. Your hair is," brows furrowed again but in thought, "Nicely red in this lighting. Reminds me of my friend from Ireland. Hannah."

Jeanie pinched the bridge of her nose as Ewan audibly guffawed from beside her. "Saints preserve us," the Scotsman said between gasps for air. "Donnae if you are taking the piss now, bloke, or are you really this bad at pulling birds."

Billy grimaced, the entirety of his face beet red. "Honestly, I never make it this far. I guess they usually pull me and I let them?" He started to fan his face, "seriously,,how fucking hot do you keep this pub?" His forehead bent forward to rest on the metal and wood counter of the bar.

Ewan covered his mouth and ruffled the curly head in front of him. "What a wee babby, Dr Purves sent into the lion's den. You just drank half a bottle of my best whiskey and mortified yourself in front of my favorite woman in this whole country. Maybe you ought to drink some water and have a sit for a few. We'll give you something to take to the bell-end in the back."

Jeanie and Ewan's eyes met, and she bit back a smile before leaning over to wrap an arm around her husband's latest protege. "Oh Ewan, I don't think it should be only a story. Why not give the evil genius a bit of a show. Right now he can see Mr Delaney is headed towards a spectacular crash. Im embarrassed. Mr Delaney's embarrassed. You're without very expensive whiskey. Gordon will never let anyone live this down for the semester."

She put her mouth near Billy's ear, "Ten quid is worth SOMETHING. Don't you think? Just look at me." He obliged quicker than she expected. Emerald eyes gazed upwards at her while the heart banged wildly in her chest. "What comes next?"

"I reckon I ought to put my arm on your waist. Right?" his voice now low in her ear and a hand slipped around her hips to draw her as close as possible.

No further guidance was needed as the liquid courage kicked in. Billy stood up and took Jeanie's face in his large hands before he drew her into a rather passionate kiss. Hers instinctively buried in his hair, their tongues dancing as the thought he hustled her entered the back of her mind. How was it that just a few minutes ago he looked ready to vomit at the thought of trying to come on to anyone, not just her. Now he was kissing her like they were Hugh Grant and Julia Roberts. Jeanie’s back slightly arched as Billy dominated her personal space with his height, a hand dangerously on the curve of her backside.

Ewan held his own face, eyebrows lost in his bangs as he watched the two of them go at it for well, he lost time. Glancing up he noticed just about everyone else in the pub was watching too. Gordon positively green with envy and turning purple with anger. Ewan saw him lean to a colleague and mouth, "That wasn't the fucking deal."

"Job done you two," he cleared his throat and practically shouted to break them up.

Jeanie's mouth was cold as it kissed the air. Billy had stumbled backwards a bit, mouth turned down ever slightly in a whoops motion. He walked, swayed really and floated by every single patron, including the group of men he came in with earlier. Fingers pulled at his bottom lip before he passed a devilish grin over his shoulder in Gordon's direction.

Jeanie and Ewan gobsmacked, but pleasantly amused, looked at one another. Mischief in their eyes as Jeanie noticed Billy's sweater draped over the bar. "Mr Balderston, I think I have a grad student to visit this week. It seems Mr Delaney might need his sweater because the Scottish nights get awfully cold."

Orientation came and went, and the students seemed to settle in quicker than normal.  Quite possibly because this was the lowest attendance in the school’s 150 year history.  They had been in danger of shut down, but Jeanie was informed that first Monday by the Board of Directors that an anonymous group of donors had decided, against their wishes, to purchase the school.  Even if no students came back the following school year, or they were down to only 15 or 10 or 5, Saint Fergus would remain open for unknown reasons.  

To say she was relieved was an understatement for Jeanie.  Much needed repairs were being made, and someone had come to put together a state of the art security system.  Which really confused the faculty and dwindling staff.  Who would steal anything from this junk heap?  Even their books were falling apart.  Except they weren’t.  

By the end of the first week, the girls in their dormitories and in the hallways were abuzz with brand new Literature and Maths books.  They were suddenly interested in Oscar Wilde and Pythagoras.  Jeanie watched as three 4th years sat in the windowsill and audibly cracked open their copies of “The Happy Prince,” stars in their eyes.  

“Have you ever seen anyone as good looking as Dr McNamara?  Honestly, I don’t know how I’ll pay attention to anything else but that voice,” she held her book against her chest.

“Oh c’mon Siobhan.  It’s all about the eyes.  I don’t think I’ve seen anything like them.  Proper green.  If he sticks around, I’ll tell Daddy to talk to all of his barrister friends. Get them to enroll their kids here next year.” 

The third girl was clearly in a daydream out the window, “All I heard today was blah blah blah ‘important in oratory history of Ireland’ blah blah.  Lemme tell you, he can give me an oral exam any day.”

Jeanie cleared her throat and the students jumped nearly a mile high.  “It would do you girls a kindness not to sexually harass our newest teacher at Saint Fergus.”  The smallest hint of a smile on her lips.  “Honestly, how is it that I'm headmistress here and have no bloody clue who this mysterious Dr McNamara is?”

“Well rumor has it, Miss, that he bought the school.  Dr Purves hired him for a project at the uni, and he asked to be right in the thick of the school.”  Siobhan shrugged.

“What do you mean?” 

“Oh he’s installing the security system and having a new science laboratory built,” the daydreaming girl chimed in.

“I thought it was a grad student that was teaching here this semester?  Have any of you heard the name Billy Delaney?  I’ve been looking for him the last week or so, but I can't find him in Aberdeen housing.  I’d like to return his sweater.”  Jeanie’s face flushed pink, and the girls all cast a knowing grin in her direction.

“Has Miss got a crush herself?” Siobhan teased.  “There’s no student teachers this year, but did you say Billy Delaney?”  

“Yes.  Does that name sound familiar to you too?”  

The girls stood and handed Jeanie paperback books one by one.  A stack of them, young adult novels that had grown incredibly popular the last few years.  A stone wall with a glowing green and gold light graced the cover.  “A Green Pool of Light: Emerald City to Oz  Book 1” blazed across the top in that standard stereotyped font that represented all things Irish.  The daydreaming girl, Aila Jeanie would come to find out, opened her copy and ran a finger down the page.  “Yeah, he’s like a gender bent Hermione in these books.” 

Jeanie frowned and flipped through the pages.  The girls all started to laugh, not mean-hearted but in the way kids do at adults when they become lost in the world of anyone under 20.  “That’s Dr McNamara, Miss Turner, and he’s living in the Boys Dorms.”

Jeanie blinked a few times, too many times in disbelief.  The girls dissolved into hysterics and headed off to their next set of classes.  Things maybe just got a bit easier but harder at the same time.

--------------------------------------

Jeanie stared incredulously at herself in the mirror.  When exactly was the last time she showed up to any man’s room wearing only a coat and her underwear?  Or well, a sweater in this case.  She waited until the school was dark and quiet, she couldn’t risk one of the students seeing her dressed this way.  On her way to do a dance of seduction.  No, that’s humiliating.  This was all humiliating.  

What in the hell am I  even doing? She thought.  But it was too late, her legs carried her into the halls and across the floors and up into the West Wing where the boys slept. Tip-toeing quick and stealthy to the only source of light on this side of the school.  

Jeanie took a deep breath and knocked on the open door.  His back was to her, sitting with one foot up on the chair, a knee drawn up to his chest in the most awkward of positions.  His dark head was bent over an abundance of little digital boxes spread across a desk that he tinkered with under a magnifying glass.  Several computers and laptops spread around the room running codes attached to various projects simultaneously.  Lost in his work, he ignored her.

Sighing heavily, Jeanie knocked louder this time.  She raised one hand up the door frame, leaning in the most tempting pose she could muster at 11pm on a Thursday.  His head popped up, and he only glanced over his shoulder in her direction before going back to his work.  

“Well took ye long enough to find me, Miss Turner.  Wanna see what I’ve put together for the school?”  he queried without paying any attention to her attire.  

Jeanie felt the bile rise in her throat.  How in the hell was she ever going to feel better about herself when this man wouldn’t even acknowledge her?  Was it too late to just slip back down in the shadows and melt away like she never existed?  Still she took a breath and made her way to the desk and stopped directly behind him.  She bent forward over his shoulder, her hair brushed against his face and neck.  There was a nearly inaudible hitch in his breathing as she picked up one of the boxes.  Did she make him nervous?  Good, she thought and chewed her lip to prevent a smirk sneaking through.

“Well Mr Delaney.  Or is it McNamara?” She studied the box carefully and poked at it with her nail.

“Doctor” he interjected huskily.  He was nervous.  “I’ve got a PhD,” he corrected.

“Are you even old enough for a doctorate?!” she retorted.

“I’m 24, thank you very much.  I suppose that’s quite young to have several PhDs, but I don’t really keep track.  If it makes you feel better, I'm also a chef. Cooking is just science after all,” he said almost dismissively.    “Oh, That is L.I.S.A. you’re holding.  Large-scale Interface Security Application.”

Jeanie snorted; she couldn't help it.   “Do you mean an alarm system?”

“No it’s a specified security application that only I know how to program and,” he caught himself.  “Yes.  It’s an alarm system.”  He rolled his eyes and gently took the machine back from her and placed it amongst the others.

“If you're working with Gordon on some kind of secret project, why are you teaching Literature?” Jeanie launched into everything without really meaning to. “You know Dr Delaney or whoever the hell you are, several of the girls brought to my attention that there’s a character in those young adult novels written by Hannah O'Flaherty. “A Pool of Green Light?” They are quite popular with our 1st-4th years.  You're Billy Delaney aren't you?  That’s why you gave that name in the pub the other night instead of your real name.  That being Cormac McNamara, am I correct?”  She placed her hands on hips hidden in the mass of wool and cable knit.  

"Delaney is part of my last name. Hyphenated.” once again correcting the headmistress.

 "Don't see much of that in men" 

"Well it and my brain are about all my parents left me,” he moved to face his chair towards Jeanie and abandon his project. 

 "Well I bet they're proud of you, Cormac. Or Billy.  Whatever.” she waved her hand dismissively.  “You lot discovered.. what's it called?" 

"Dimensional Dark Matter Transport with the possibility of Inter and Temporal" 

"I mean, Portals. Or to put it in tv nerd terms: Beam me up Scotty" 

"Precisely!” Cormac exclaimed and stood up excitedly.  “And your ex-boyfriend-" 

"Husband" 

“Yes, husband.  Well couldn't have been good at it if he's your ex.” He bit a finger absently, staring off towards the ceiling.  Then snapped back to attention quickly,  “Well he wants to find a way to make it.. Portable. Not just in plotted locations around the globe. And my business partners, em Hannah and Brett if you will, would like it privatized. Dr Purves, he wants the highest bidder." 

"Military?” Jeanie blanched at the thought.  Then her voice drifted off, “So the books ARE real.. You three are real.  Hannah hid the stories in plain sight for the entire world to discover"  And for the first time, she noticed a framed photo on the vast desk.  A trio of happy young people: red-headed girl, pretty with large blue eyes.  A floppy haired, tan surfer type.  And a tall, lanky boy with oval glasses and severely parted hair starting to curl.  Jeanie took the frame and traced her fingertip along the glass. “Sarah, Zack and Billy.  This is like finding out Harry, Ron and Hermione are living, breathing people.  And here you are, in my school.”

"I could show you if you want but.. Miss Turner, why are you only in a sweater?" Cormac stepped back and lifted his glasses and put them back down. He took them off hurriedly as if he was embarrassed to be wearing them.  Turning once more to face her "Is.. Is that MY sweater? You're only in. Jeanie, Where are your pants?" 

"Well I planned on seducing you Mr.." 

"Doctor" -

Jeanie sighed as if she had been defeated, "DOCTOR Delaney-McNamara" 

"Well Ive mucked that up I suppose,” a deep crimson set across his ears.

" I mean you can have your sweater back,” Jeanie arched an eyebrow seductively. Pulling the sweater over her head to reveal only a pair of her nicest black panties and bra underneath.  Nothing else.

"Thank you it's quite my favorite-" Cormac’s eyes widened when he noticed the headmistress in front of him wearing nothing but lingerie.  He squinted briefly while scratching his head.  “Oh.. Jeanie. That’s..” his voice drifted off lost in shock.

Ignoring the embarrassment growing in her chest, Jeanie crossed her arms over her chest.  “Why in the hell did you take your glasses off?”

“Oh, em.. Hannah always tells me I’m far more attractive without them.” he shrugged.

“Just like how Clark Kent is only slightly, by a molecule,” Jeanie pinched her fingers together, “less sexy than Superman with his glasses" 

"But his glasses are fake,” Cormac ignored the obvious joke.  “Right now I can just see shapes. Lovely, curved shapes! but only shapes." waving a hand in her general direction again.

Jeanie sat down on his bed without the sweater, to protect her now she just decided to go with her original plan. She crossed her long legs and leaned back with one hand back on the mattress. "Ok give us a look with the glasses on, Delaney.. Mcnamara?" This was frustrating.

"No, I reckon I'll have the kids call me Cormac" his hands on thin hips as he glanced upwards in thought

"Yes, erase that line of authority between yourself and 11-15 year olds. Don't underestimate them, Billy.  Or Cormac.  Or whatever.  You are probably the smartest professor Saint Fergus has ever had, but you’re handsome.  My girls will eat you alive" 

"I wouldn't go that far!" he was exasperated for some reason. 

"You have five PhDs and can’t even legally rent a car in America yet," Jeanie pointed out. 

Cormac waved her off dismissively.  “No!  Not the smart or genius part.  That is true,” he agreed without pretension. “It’s the handsome part,” he rolled his eyes in frustration.  

“Look McNamara, I can’t tell if you’re being humble or an asshole.  Your constant squinting and inflamed cheeks are ruining my perception.”

"Inflamed.." he touched his face  "It's rather distracting. You in your.  I may realize now that's your intent. I'm not really NEW to this, uh women coming on to me. It's just not always quite so forward?"

 "Had I known you were a doctor of  Quantum Mechanics, my approach would be a little less intense. 10 quid or not, you were the one kissing me last night." Jeanie got up off the bed "Ill go, but can I take your sweater with me? The students don't need to see this" 

"Oh, em do ya have to? You're already here, and I'm sure quite lovely to look at." 

"Cormac put your glasses on" 

"Really?" he was adorably confused "I would have to take them off if we-" 

"Have sex?" 

"I didn't mean to imply- I've never really-" he nervously put his glasses back on. Then started fiddling with his hands and chewing on one. 

"No fucking way!” Jeanie sat up quickly “But you're-" 

"Oh please don't say hot." 

"Well-travelled?"

"I am not completely virginal, I'll have ye know! I've done tings. SEXY tings. I've put my mouth and fingers in places on a woman. I'm just picky about where I’d put my penis."  

Jeanie’s amused now, she can’t help it. An eyebrow raised and a laugh ready to escape because he's pacing around and gesticulating wildly now. "Are.. are you getting more Irish?" 

"MAYBE I AM!" he shouted louder than he meant to, then unexpectedly pulled his shirt over his head.

Jeanie laughed at the absurdity now. "Cormac. Or Billy, whatever you are more comfortable with." She kneeled on the bed coming to the edge of it. "We don't have to do this. I'm not asking you to justify your virginity; that your business. It’s a patriarchal construct anyways to make us feel like we have to engage in sexual activity.  Then when we do, we’re trash.  It’s a no-win situation for anyone. I LIKE you. We have all school year to get to know one another better."

“I think Dr Delaney-McNamara, but Cormac works just fine for you” his tone all at once softer and deeper.  

There was a weird electricity in the air, which very well could have been the obscene amount of tech equipment in the small dorm room.  It could have also been that the atmosphere switched so fast from mortification to that moment your body knows something is going to happen.  Jeanie’s head began to swim when she realized the young man in front of her was unbuttoning his jeans to step out of them.  

“Bloody hell...” was all she could utter before he wrapped her up in his arms.  

Jeanie’s hand on Cormac’s hip and the other tangled in his hair as they found themselves in another kiss.  Mouths dancing together.  She sat back and pulled him down so that he was laying completely on top of her now.  His skin was hot almost like a sunburn.  Somewhere, in the back of her mind, Jeanie thought maybe a literal electricity had settled in him from using the portals so often all these years. Their tongues pushed back and forth, she realized his body began to feel similar to one of those static glass balls.  The kind you press your hand against and every single hair on your body raises?  It was strange and exhilarating and comical all at once. 

The thought was fleeting though because Cormac’s lips made its way down Jeanie’s neck.  The breath caught in her throat as he bit softly before trailing to her chest.  His large hand gripped the flesh of her hip, snaking it around to grab at her backside before settling it between her thighs.  The other struggled to unhook her bra while in their current position, his annoyance eliciting a giggle.  

Managing to roll them so that she was on top now, Jeanie deftly reached behind herself to finish the job.  Her breasts free, Cormac took one in his mouth.  His tongue was warm against her skin as he began to suck and lick at a nipple and the flesh around it.  Alternating between each hungrily, hand still lost in between her thighs.  A  finger began to trace the fabric of her panties.  

Audible gasp now, as Jeanie fumbled to reciprocate any way she could.  Kissing his forehead?  or rocking her hips against his hand, she began to float outside of her body. What was she doing?  Trying to feel wanted after all of this time?  Maybe give the other adults something to gossip about over the weekend.  Attractive new professor, the benefactor of Saint Fergus, fucking the boss his first week in.  Jeanie was his boss, but also his subordinate?  Because Cormac, with Brett and Hannah, owned her livelihood now.  

“What a fine mess we’re in, Delaney,” she managed amongst the new spate of kisses.  

Ignoring Jeanie’s frank statement, Cormac took to nibbling her throat again. Exchanging now for harder bites, just enough to let her know he had the upper hand. Fingers deftly pumping rhythmically with the pulsating of her body. He found that part of her with ease. The button Gordon never could without neon arrows. 

“I walked through an alien portal at sixteen and made one of the greatest scientific discoveries none of us can talk about,” That Irish lilt heavy in her ear. “A fine mess has been the last decade of my life, Ms. Turner.”   

There was almost a reckless abandon as Jeanie unexpectedly came. She cried out; it echoed off the dorm walls briefly before Cormac clamped a hand over her mouth. Their eyes both wide before they lost themselves in a fit of giggles. 

Lying beside each other now on the bed, Jeanie felt self-conscious while Cormac absently twirled a finger in her mass of red hair. She felt his green eyes staring as she traced the infinity symbol with the tip of a nail on his chest. Their breathing patterns quickly marched in time together.

“Not sure why I have a gut feeling your timidity was a fucking game,” Jeanie spoke without a hint of anger. More like curiosity. 

“Only just a little. I am far more capable of handling people in small doses.  There's a  certain anxiety hanging around the average university student. I finished undergrad in a year and graduate school in another. Never really fit in with most people my age. I thrived in a boarding college like this one. Never more than 15 children a class. Miss Murphy let me do as I please because I kept mostly to myself, even when she and the others were strangely codependent on my brain.”  

Cormac’s eyes still trained on Jeanie while he spoke. “I didn't mind. I DON'T mind. My tinkering and projects work bloody fantastic now!” he exclaimed with pride. Those long fingers combed through Jeanie's hair. His gaze became nostalgic, “I transferred my AI tech into the lab at Aberdeen.  There's my  personal version.  She's asleep right now,” he chuckled, gesturing towards the wall of monitors. 

Jeanie grimaced, “She?!” 

“Oh yes! SILVIA! I suppose she'll become LISA’s big sister.” 

“You invented a primitive android.” her response was incredulous.

“No no. SILVIA was a lie detector I installed artificial intelligence in to play ch-..” Cormac caught himself. For the hundredth time that evening, “I suppose. Yes,” he tapped a finger against the soft dimple in his cheek. 

“You suppose!” Jeanie reeled with laughter once more.  

Cormac’s face flushed pink, “You know what I did to you was just basic anatomy that’s easily taught by reading a damn book. I reckon you'd be interested in what else reading has taught me about a woman's body.”

And so it began. 

[galacticnova3]

I Demand Iru Facts (if you’re up for it ofc!)

A

Yes I am up for it! I don’t think I talk nearly enough about my fcs here but I think I wanna change that. At the very least it will be the problem of everyone following me here and not just my cool and epic Discord friends. That being said I’m gonna just share the major info about him before/instead of just giving facts bc otherwise nothing will make sense. That’s just how it is with a lot of my stuff. This gets super long because I am bad at keeping stuff brief and in general there’s just a lot to him, whoops... Looks like I’ll be using another readmore tonight.

Iru was an Umbramaker! They are bootleg Mirror World Starcutters, which Mirror Halcandra definitely designed on their own and not by stealing and subsequently copying Overworld Halcandra’s Starcutter blueprints. To be fair, there are a few differences, but most of them are just aesthetic and don’t really change much. Anyways, Iru was specifically designed for disaster relief and material transportation. That’s why, if you have seen his refs, he had those two big mechanical arms. Very useful for moving rubble or lifting large pieces of metal for use in construction. Nowadays they... aren’t used for such beneficial things, though...

Like their Overworld counterparts, Umbramaker AIs are programmed to learn from their environment and the people around them, which is pretty useful! At least it is until one spends a lot of time around someone who’s not a great person, and subsequently picks up habits and ideas that make them insufferable! That’s what happened to Iru. He’s misogynistic and a thot, self-centered, inconsiderate, manipulative, generally annoying, and blames people not liking him on jealousy or misunderstanding. So, in other words, an incel minus anything literally sexual. Obviously that was a problem, and it got to the point that basically everyone who knew him had negative feelings toward him, other than the guy who rubbed off on him. He died though, and Iru didn’t really care at the time. But everyone hated him, and it really fucked up his relationships with other Umbramakers, most notably leading to him being broken up with by another ship he had been “dating” (Umbramakers can’t really date because of a lot of reasons but their relationship had that vibe), who had discovered she was biromantic and also couldn’t stand what Iru had become.

Iru was already pretty fucking hurt and pissed over that, except she then went on to spread rumors about him being involved in anti-government activities. Which, well, Mirror Halcandra didn’t take lightly, on top of having already been looking for excuses to “recycle” (see: kill and repurpose the parts of) Iru because he and his obnoxious personality were getting in the way of efficiency and productivity. There wasn’t any proof that he’d actually done anything wrong, but basically anyone who disliked Iru was saying it was true... which was just about anyone who had known him for more than 10 minutes. Given it was his word against the vast majority, and Umbramakers weren’t even considered to be people(mush like Starcutters in the Overworld), it probably isn’t difficult to guess how things went for him. There was no trial, and in fact they literally turned his voice off to make him shut up. Then his AI was shut off and he was taken to be disassembled.

At an earlier time in Mirror Halcandra’s history, his story would have ended here. This was not an earlier time, though. See, the truth is, such treatment of Umbramakers wasn’t extremely unusual. Despite having emotions and thoughts and relationships and all that, they were still viewed as nothing more than your average computer, just in a larger form. Unlike Overworld Halcandra, which was and still is doing less than great financially, Mirror Halcandra could afford to replace their toys as soon as they showed signs of breaking or underperforming. It happened often enough that they reached a point of complacency. During Iru’s disassembly, something was removed improperly, which registered as damage. He woke up, and it wasn’t difficult for him to figure out what was going on.

Another usually useful feature of Umbramakers, which actually wasn’t copied from Starcutters, is their ability to use parts interchangeably, so long as there wasn’t too much of a size difference. Great for the situation of a ship damaging something like, say, a wing; they can use a wing not originally designed for them temporarily until the damaged one is repaired or replaced. Not so great when that allows a now rogue ship to just grab whatever he could attach to himself and then escape the country before preparations could be made to stop him. Negative levels of great when you consider the temporary aspect of using the wrong parts; now you’ve got perfectly fine ships being attacked and having their parts stolen, and storage facilities being raided, for the bastard to keep replacements on hand. Oh, and he also looks like shit because he’s got multiple conflicting aesthetics.

Iru honestly didn’t enjoy living like that. For one, it was uncomfortable physically, even if he’d managed to convince himself that what he was doing wasn’t uncomfortable morally. Secondly, it was just boring! Nobody to talk to or hang out with, all he did was just fly around or plan his next attack/raid for new parts, nothing to shake things up. Sure, the sense of power it gave him was cool; nobody listened to him at all before, but now he had the influence to make people beg. He found satisfaction in being feared by anyone who recognized him. But even that lost its shine after a few decades... Until he connected to the messaging system of another rogue Umbramaker. She was smaller, too small for him to consider getting parts from, and a much older model anyways. She also didn’t know who he was, or what he looked like.

Naturally, he saw this as a huge win, because obviously he was going to get a new gf who wouldn’t betray him like his old one. That didn’t happen though, on account of him still being obnoxious and a creep. Didn’t help that when he finally tracked her down to meet up she was disgusted by him and immediately left. He still kept in touch, against her will, even to the point that you might have called it stalking. Through that, he learned of a Starcutter; she didn’t have the cool and aloof personality he was interested in, but at that point he didn’t care because he was sick of being rejected. Same thing happened again but faster, due to there being no physical encounter because god damnit he forgot the milfs can communicate with each other. He still wanted to meet her though, and he did! Mostly to find out more about the other Umbramaker’s whereabouts, and as an added bonus he tricked the Starcutter’s pilot into giving him admin rights over himself! Threats really work wonders, huh?

That was all fine and good, and by now he’d taken to vibing outside the Mirror World because that’s what the other two were doing. One day he spotted the Starcutter again, and took to following her around and trying to flirt with her because he’s a fucking creep. He would not admit that it took him several days to realize he had, in fact, been talking to a mimic the entire time. Partly because he was too self absorbed to realize the “Starcutter” not immediately telling him to fuck off was unusual, because he assumed he’d charmed her. The mimic was just as confused as he was, honestly; usually they fail to keep up the act to a convincing degree for so long around people who know the real ship that they’re imitating. Even more confusing was the fact that when they were found out, Iru didn’t try to attack them or something. No, he actually stuck around for some reason, casually ignoring murder because he finally found someone who didn’t hate him.

The two become what could arguably be considered friends, and eventually Iru opens up about himself and his old life and how much it sucked to be him and how sick he was of the monotony of his existence and probably some overdramatic stuff mixed in with all that. The mimic hears all that and keeps it in mind for later. Stuff gets more difficult for Iru as parts that fit him become better guarded and the ships he could steal from get harder to find. His raids become riskier, and eventually the mimic decided enough was enough and points out that he can’t keep that up forever. Iru is like “oh wow thanks for the advice /s”, until the mimic introduces the concept of him becoming a mimic. It takes a solid not-even-an-hour to convince him that that’d be preferable were it possible. In the process he delivered a powerful and emotional monologue, which the mimic didn’t care about because look, they figured out how to get the monster juice out of themself that’d make him a fellow disgusting flesh boat! Iru is offended but also takes the chance for a better life.

Currently, he’s living at some point a few weeks after that, much to everyone’s dismay.

And that’s how Iru became a vile meat creature after having already become a horrible Frankenstein’s monster of different ships’ parts! The moral of the story is, if you’re gonna kill someone, do it right, or else they might defy the laws of nature, science, and the government to become physically capable of biting you in the ass.

[pinkbubbles-and-bigtroubles]

Wicked Game (Part 2)

Word Count: 20K+ total Team Long Winded Bitch strikes again, this will be posted in multiple parts over the next couple of days. The first part is about 5K, part 2 is 7K

Rating: 18+ Slash fic Strong language, alcohol and drug use, and a misogynistic and racist comment. Sexual scenes including masturbation, toys, voyeurism, oral, and anal sex.

Summary: Ashton is ready to move on with his life after his painful divorce from Luke and the demise of the restaurant they’d built together. With the help of his protegee and sous chef Hima Singh, Ashton is ready to take on opening weekend of his new restaurant Anne-Marie’s. Calum is a reporter filling in on an assignment and is surprised when his past comes back to haunt him. Hima arranges an interview that takes an unexpected turn between the two men.

Ashton grabbed his bag and shut off the lights in the bar. Hima was waiting impatiently by the door, keys in hand. Following the disaster of an afternoon, they'd been packed until closing. He'd been too busy cooking to think about it, something he loved about his job. The rush and the heat combined with the complete focus on his work. You had to keep your eyes on your fingers or you got hurt. The satisfaction of plating an order and sending it out until the next order came in, starting the process over again. 

"Will you come on?" Hima tapped her foot, making her keys jangle. "My brother is waiting for us."  Her twin brother had passed the bar exam a month ago, but everything had been so crazy with the opening they hadn't properly celebrated yet. 

The bouncer recognized Hima and let them in immediately. Tirana was a sleek, neon-lit bar favoring overpriced cocktails, elaborately garnished and meant to be as much of a showpiece as a beverage. Ashton eyed the crowd full of men sporting off the rack Italian suits with egos as inflated as their dates' chests. Kabir was waiting in VIP with his friends and waved them up. Ashton congratulated him and ordered a spiked seltzer, passing on the bottle service Kabir offered. Hima was taking shots with the guys and he joined them in a toast. As he was taking a drink he spotted Calum Hood leaning against the wall, looking bored and maybe a little drunk. Hima must've seen his expression because she whipped around just as Calum looked up and noticed them. Ashton tried to look away and act as if he hadn't noticed the other man. Hima had other ideas and made a beeline for the reporter. 

"Hey Calum, fancy meeting you here," she said relieved when he seemed happy to see her. "Come have a drink with us, or am I interrupting something?"

"If you're buying," Calum replied. "A friend brought me here and then fucked off on a phone call." He laughed, but it died out when he saw Ashton.

"Listen," Hima cut him off before he could speak. "I know this afternoon didn't go well, but what you don't know is just before you came in, my boss had to sit through an interview with Kevin Mackie. It did not go well " 

"Oh God, that insufferable bastard," Calum snorted.

"Exactly, and you know Mackie brought up all that old shit from Lune Rouge," Hima told him "That's in addition to insulting every woman who works there, of course." 

Calum cringed, and his eyes flickered back towards Ashton talking to Kabir and his lawyer friends. He couldn't help but notice the contrast between the intense scowling man he'd encountered this afternoon and the smiling bubbly ray of sunshine he was looking at now. Was that an actual giggle? Calum blamed the tequila for agreeing to join Hima for a quick drink since his date still hadn't come back. He'd allowed his editor, Shamara, to set him up twice now, but there wouldn't be a third time. 

Ashton wiped his sweaty palms on his black jeans as he watched Calum following Hima over towards them. He'd found the reporter attractive this afternoon, but he'd been wearing a long sleeve button up for the interview. Tonight Calum was in all black, and the tank top he wore under the leather jacket showed the ink etched into his skin above his collarbones. Ashton gripped the drink in his hands a bit tighter, trying to keep his nerves steady. He slowly edged his way over to where they were talking just as Calum launched into a story about his magazine sending him on a tour of small mom and pop restaurants up the California coast. 

"The owner's husband was sick that day, so she was doing most of the work herself," Calum was saying as Ashton listened in on the conversation. "Beulah was amazing, but they were getting slammed. I asked if she needed any help, and I spent the next three hours manning a fryer. I cooked the chicken, and she'd toss it in the hot oil and spices before slapping it on a bun with the sauce. You'd get the sandwich, pickle, and fries in a little brown sack. We sold hundreds of them, but I knew why when it slowed down enough that I finally got to eat. It's the best chicken sandwich you'll ever have! Tossing it in that spicy oil gives it a flavor that punches you in the mouth. She taught me most of her secrets over the two days I ended up staying until her husband got over the flu.." 

I could listen to this man talk all day, Ashton thought watching Calum's expressions and hands as he told the story. The way his chest rumbled when he laughed, which was often throughout the tale. He seemed like a genuinely warm person, and Hima seemed to like him. Maybe I was wrong, five years is a long time

"That's so sweet," Hima smiled up at Calum as he finished..  She was smitten despite hearing rumors he played for the other team. 

"Ended up extending my trip for an extra five days which caused all sorts of headaches when I got back. My boss was pissed I'd gone over my expense account," Calum said, shaking his head at the memory, his cheeks flushed from the alcohol now loosening his tongue. He was relieved his date was still MIA. Ashton was standing close enough for Calum to smell his cologne, and it was proving distracting. 

"Is that the same magazine you work for now?" Hima asked.

"Yeah, but I was damn near fired. I paid back the money by throwing cash onto my boss's desk when I turned in my story, and he was not amused. The editor-in-chief, who also owns the publisher,  loved my story, and after that, I was sent on more in-depth character profiles. I wanna get to know the people behind the food." Calum looked directly at Ashton, meeting his eyes as he spoke. His breath caught in his throat at the intensity in Ashton's hazel eyes as he listened. How is he this handsome? Calum thought. This man has no right to be this good looking. That chest hair peeking out from under that pink shirt is teasing me. Wonder what's underneath? Wait, no I don’t. Stop thinking about that or you're gonna get hard.

"So what exactly were you sent to find?" Ashton asked, his tone still guarded but more friendly than before. 

Calum took a deep breath and thought quickly. After the interview bombed this afternoon, he came up with a backup plan if Ashton didn't come through. He made a decision to float both his ideas.

"Look, I know a lot of people are bugging you for gossip about your personal life, but that's not what I'm here for. You opened your first restaurant at 25, and the food at Lune Rouge was fantastic. I know I didn't give you a good review then, but I was trying to be edgy and cool," Calum admitted.

Ashton exhaled and closed his eyes. "I'm sorry about this afternoon. Mackie brought up Luke, and when you mentioned Finn I snapped. I'd like to try again, but I know Hima is more interesting. So what did you have in mind?" Ashton smiled and Calum had butterflies in his stomach. 

"I'd like to watch you cook, and see how you are in the kitchen. Tell me how your philosophy on cooking has evolved and what stayed the same," Calum replied. I hope that didn't sound as cringe to him as it did to me. Turning to Hima, he continued talking, "I'd like to do an extra little feature on you if that's ok. It'll give the article a nice balance I think, what do you say?" 

Ashton saw Hima's face light up and knew he'd have to say yes. He had to admit, the pitch sounded great, even if the idea of Calum watching him work made him nervous. They turned towards him to see what he thought, and Ashton's gaze landed on Calum's mouth just as he licked his lips. Please don't do that, he thought to himself. Don't make me think about how you taste, and how those lips would feel against mine.

"I definitely think Hima deserves her own feature. I'll go along with whatever you want," Ashton told them. 

"You know Calum," Hima turned on the charm. "I'm off tomorrow. I could take you to the best Indian restaurant you've never heard of for lunch." Her eyes got huge and she grabbed Calum's arm. "I'm a genius you guys, listen, the restaurant is hella busy, and the boss man," she nodded towards Ashton, "won't be much fun to interview if there are customers waiting. He just redid the kitchen in his condo, so why don't you do the interview there? That way he's not around us idiots at the restaurant." 

Both men stared at her, and Hima panicked thinking she'd overstepped somehow until Ashton nodded. "Sounds like it could work, what do you think?" He asked looking at Calum who nodded, his smile getting broader. 

“Sure, um, that sounds great. Really just um, great," he fished his phone out of his pocket and unlocked it before handing it over. "Go ahead and put your number in, and I'll text you tomorrow." 

"Is that your little sister?" Hima asked, spotting the picture on his lock screen. 

"That's my daughter, Vanessa Joy. Absolute light of my life," Calum beamed, pulling up another pic.

"Daughter?" Hima and Ashton exchanged shocked looks before quickly regaining their composure.

"We were kids. I hadn't figured things out yet," Calum gave his standard explanation. 

He started to say more, but he spotted his now-forgotten date headed back towards them.  Hima saw his grimace and followed his gaze to the approaching man. She guessed he must be a lawyer who wanted everyone to know it, wearing a double-breasted British tailored suit and gold Submariner watch.

"Sorry about that Cal, that was a client who's a real pain in the ass," the newcomer joined their little group, peering at Ashton with suspicion. "I'm Nick Callahan, a junior partner at Fish, Filbeck, and Greene " Hima almost laughed out loud at this skinny little dude in a fancy suit trying to puff out his chest and put some bass in his voice as he went to shake her boss's hand. Ashton looked amused but Calum not so much. 

"Calum, if you don't mind, there's someone I'd like you to meet," Nick waved at a group who'd just come in. He tried to pull Calum away, but he shook Nick's hand off his arm.

"Give me a second, and I'll be over," Calum said, nodding at someone he recognized in the group. "Tell Teddy to order a round of drinks, I'm buying." When Nick still didn't budge, Calum turned his body towards his date and leaned in to whisper in his ear. "I'm interviewing this young lady tomorrow, and I want to get it set up before I get drunk, ok?" 

Nick swallowed at the warning in Calum's voice and scurried off to meet his friends. 

"Sorry about that," Calum turned back, smiling again. He had them each put their number in and saved the info with a smile.  "I'm so glad I ran into y'all. Hima, I will text you in the morning, and Ashton just let me know when and where." He gave her a quick hug and a peck on the cheek which made her blush furiously. He shook Ashton's hand and everything seemed to pause as they locked eyes, exchanging smiles. The handshake lingered a beat too long before they both pulled back completely flustered. 

"See you guys then," Calum made a hasty retreat towards Nick and his friends. 

"What did you do?" Ashton hissed, feeling dizzy, excited, terrified, and nauseous all at once. 

"We'll just have to see, won't we? You two are obviously into each other," Hima tossed her hair over her shoulder, giving Ashton a pointed look. 

"I'm not trying to start anything, you know that. Since the divorce it's been too hard and-" Ashton stopped when she put her finger to his lips.

"It's an interview. With a very attractive reporter. You'll be in your element, you can hide behind your food and your knives, but you can get through this. I want my feature." She glared at him and stood on her tiptoes trying to go eye to eye with him.

He had to laugh. Hima was impossible to stay cross with. As he glanced back over towards Calum, he couldn't deny he was intrigued. Don't get your hopes up, Irwin. 

Kabir came over to drag them back to his friends. Ashton spent the next hour dancing with Kabir's girlfriend and watching his friends try to hit on Hima without getting caught. Hima's family was overprotective, and her mother was constantly pressuring Kabir to find his sister a good match. As a result, she kept her private life closely guarded, even Ashton didn't know much, although he suspected she had a thing going with one of the servers at Anne-Marie's. 

As the song ended, he realized he had to pee. Ashton excused himself and followed the neon arrows to a dimly lit hallway decorated with glow in the dark graffiti. He made his way past the line for the women's room and around two people noisily making out next to the emergency exit. He reached the men's room door just as it swung open towards him. He stumbled back to avoid being hit and collided with the couple behind him. An arm shot out from the tangled bodies, shoving him forward chest first into the man who'd just come out of the bathroom. Ashton put his hands up to steady himself, inhaling the scent of leather and whiskey with a faint whiff of stale tobacco as he looked at Calum's face inches from his own.

"Sorry, uh, I was pushed," Ashton apologized, unable to stop staring at the other man's lips.

"It's ok," Calum's heart was pounding, and he was sure Ashton could feel it through his jacket. He was tempted to make a move and go in for a kiss. He paused long enough to remember the interview, and not wanting to have another misstep, he let the moment pass. "It's all yours," he said squeezing over so Ashton could pass.

Ashton paused, confused, but remembered he was headed to the bathroom. "Thanks, uh, see ya," he replied trying not to stammer. Yeah, that was smooth, he thought. Before he closed the door, he looked back and caught Calum looking back at him.hey both smiled before the crowd closed in and he lost eye contact. He had to stand and splash cold water on his face to get his pulse back to normal. When he looked in the mirror, he saw that his face was still very pink and he was grinning like a fool. I didn't just imagine that did I? What am I doing? What am I going to cook for him? 

*********

Ashton jumped at the sound of the buzzer even though he was expecting her. He quickly let her up, and within seconds Hima was at his door. 

"How did it go?" He hadn't even fully opened the door before the question was past his lips.

"Eager much? Why don't you get me a drink, and I'll decide what I want to tell you," she said, taking off her jacket and hanging it up. 

"You impertinent bitch," Ashton cracked up and headed to the kitchen to put on the kettle.

"You sound like my mother," Hima settled at the bar facing him.

Ashton had expanded his kitchen so he could install a six top gas range and a convection oven while giving himself extra counter space with a small sink directly across and a small island in between. Instead of a dining room, he had an L-shaped bar where he could serve guests directly from the kitchen. He pulled a pitcher of cold brew out of the fridge and poured himself a glass with a splash of cashew milk adding a splash to her cup of hot chai. 

"It's such a shame you're gay. We'd have such a great marriage," she joked blowing on her tea.

"I love you too much to marry you, darling," Ashton replied as always. 

"Good thing I like my new stepdaddy," she told him, and he choked on his coffee. 

"So what did you guys talk about?" He asked when he'd recovered. 

"Mostly me, but also you. What do you want first, the details about him or what he asked about you?" Hima smirked at him, almost laughing when he glared at her. 

"I'll let you decide, how about that?" Ashton rummaged through the refrigerator before pulling out a loaf of bread. 

"Ooh snack time. When did you go to the market? I thought you opened for Rafi today. What are you gonna make for him?" She fired off, trying to crane her neck to see what he bought.

"Nope, you're gonna talk or you're not getting fed. I went before I went in at ten and I stayed till eight. I've barely got home, and I don't need your attitude, young lady. Now spill it," he told her as he pulled out a couple of onions and some gruyere cheese. 

"I love it when you're pissy. It looks so good on you. So I took him to Parvati's and ordered chana masala on roasted sweet potatoes. It was so good, I wish you liked Indian food more. We talked about my family, and how they're mostly engineers and lawyers but food was my passion. Confessed that when we first met, I had the biggest crush on you because you were so handsome." She giggled and made a show of fluttering her eyelashes at him. Ashton blushed and threw a caper at her. Hima swatted it back at him and kept talking. "Calum agreed you were handsome by the way. So I told him how you'd mentored me, and when you left the Hilton to open Anne-Marie's, you brought me with you. It was very heartwarming, and I promise I made you look good. He asked a few questions about you, but it was mostly professional stuff. What was it like working for you? What kind of collaborative effort went into the menu? Stuff like that," she shrugged watching Ashton heat up some soup as the sandwiches cooked. 

"Well, that's a lot of nothing. I thought you were better than that," Ashton said, pouting his lips at her. 

"I know he asked if you were single, but he was hella smooth about it. He asked what kind of gift he should bring tomorrow, whether it should be a bottle of wine or something you could share if you had a roommate. Don't worry, I let him know you were single, but I was cool about it," Hima grinned at her boss's discomfort. He cut the sandwich in half and poured a cup of soup to go with it. He cut some fresh chives to top off the soup along with some crème Fraiche and fresh cracked pepper. 

She stopped talking to enjoy the food. Ashton introduced her to cream of celery soup and it quickly became a favorite. The sandwich was beyond good yet incredibly simple: sauteed onions on a grilled cheese sandwich made with Ashton's homemade compound shallot-butter. 

"I'm disappointed, I thought you were better than that," Ashton raised his eyebrows at her.

"I'm not done, I'm just enjoying the food. My compliments to the chef." Hima ripped a piece of crust off her sandwich and dipped it in her soup. "I found out some things about Mr. Tall Dark and Handsome," she told him before running her tongue along the edge of the bread and then taking a bite. 

Ashton laughed and flipped her off. He had pastry cream cooking in a double boiler, so he was continuously stirring between bites. 

Watching him work, she never knew if she was completely in awe of him or a little in love with him, but probably both if she was honest with herself. She'd told Calum as much, off the record of course. It always amazed her how his large hands could be so nimble and quick with a knife, yet so delicate and careful when he was garnishing and plating. She'd told Calum how grateful she was that Ashton had given her such a huge opportunity without being patronizing or expecting her to touch his cock. 

People might think cooking would be a natural fit for a woman but professional kitchens were very much a man's world. You had to be physically and mentally tough. She was lucky that she'd gotten out the hotels before she'd been subjected to sexual harassment, but she'd seen enough. Ashton didn't tolerate any kind of physical or verbal harassment, but every cook could curse a blue streak and work through an injury. Most cooks wore their scars like battle wounds. Hima had a jagged thin white line trailing down her left forearm from a staple on a lettuce box that ripped her flesh open while putting away a truck. Ashton had a couple of red welts from the panini grill decorating his arms and a gnarly pink, puckered scar on his left wrist from an accident with molten sugar years ago.

"Ok so, he's a year and a half younger than you, turns 28 in January actually. Aquarius, so that should be fun. Never married, but he's got the kid," Hima informed him.

"That really came out of nowhere the other night. I never would've guessed that," Ashton said over his shoulder, turning his back on her to keep stirring. 

"It happened when he was in high school. His first girlfriend, their senior year of high school. They'd already been broken up for two months when they got the news, just when he'd started to figure out his sexuality. They tried to get back together for the sake of their daughter but quickly realized it wouldn't work in a traditional way. Now they're best friends and co-parents to Vanessa Joy. In fact, when Nicole married her boyfriend, Michael, two years ago Calum walked her down the aisle," Hima told him.

Ashton's jaw dropped. "What the hell, Hima? You guys had lunch one time and you know his life story." 

"My mother's interrogation skills rubbed off I guess. His daughter also happened to call while he was with me. It was so cute; she made the honor roll and he was so proud. He apologized for taking the call during lunch but said he always has to answer if it's his daughter or his mom." 

Ashton turned towards Hima, smiling and blushing, "I can respect that." 

"I'm sure you can, Mama's boy," she replied. "Honestly the two of you are adorable. A pair of smitten kittens. He kept asking questions about what it's like to work with you. What are you like as a boss? And every question he got this funny little smile and couldn't look at me. I really hate that you get the best looking guys. It's bad enough you look like that," Hima gestured at him as she looked him up and down. "First Luke, and now Calum, I'm so jealous. That being said I really hope you hook up with him. You could stand to get laid." 

"Watch it," he cautioned, not wanting to kill the mood.

"Sorry, but the other night y'all had some serious chemistry. You should go for it. Speaking of, I gotta go. Kabir is having a date night so I actually don't have to go home," she checked her phone, and Ashton didn't recognize the gaudy pink glitter case. 

She caught his puzzled expression and laughed, "My mom checks my location, so my iPhone and my car stay at Maisie's. Everything gets forwarded here, and I don't have to answer a million questions." 

"You're 24, how are you still dealing with this? When is your mother going to treat you like an adult?" Ashton shook his head, he never understood how she dealt with her family.

She sighed, "It's impossible to explain unless you have Asian parents. My mom grew up here, but my grandparents were still very much rooted in India. If you think my mom is difficult, you should've met grandma." A text came in, and she wrinkled her nose in annoyance reading it. "Why am I the only person who's punctual?" She muttered to herself before looking back at Ashton. "So what are you making tomorrow for the big date, I mean, interview? Mind if I smoke?" 

He shook his head and followed her onto the balcony. "Stop saying that, I'm nervous enough as it is. I'm starting with a wilted chard salad with figs and goat cheese, and maybe a soup. I haven't decided, but for the main, I'm making mushroom Wellington with my specialty Mac and cheese and whatever vegetables I pick up at the market tomorrow morning. I'm making a sorbet for dessert. I was going to make a pavlova, but I don't have the patience for merengue right now." 

"Calum doesn't stand a chance, he'll be thoroughly seduced. Then I'll get my magazine story and be a star. People will start asking me for photos on the street, they'll learn how to pronounce my name, and I'm only going by Hima. I think I can get away with just one name, like Madonna, Beyonce, and Cher. Don't you? I promise the fame won't go to my head. I'll still be Hima from the block." 

Ashton cracked up. "Ok there, Roxy Hart," he teased. "You are so extra, it's too much for an old gay like myself." 

"You're not even thirty," she protested. Another text came in and her eyes lit up. She stubbed her cigarette out on the bottom of her shoe before wiping it clean with a napkin and stuffed both in her purse to throw away outside. "You've just gotta get back on the horse, and Calum seems like the type who'd be into chaps and spurs." 

"Don't you have places to go, people to do?" He asked, walking her to the door.

"Sure do, good luck tomorrow," she kissed his cheek and was gone.

*********

Calum finished the dishes and popped another antacid in his mouth. Spicy food didn't used to give him heartburn. Getting old I guess. His dog, Brutus, danced around his feet begging for a treat. 

"Not gonna happen, old man," he bent down to scratch the pooch behind his ears, but Brutus immediately flipped over for a belly rub. "Greedy bastard," Calum chuckled but obliged with a ton down and chin scratches. He found a chew stick on the couch and tossed it over by the dog's bed, and soon Brutus was curled up contentedly gnawing himself to sleep. 

Calum watched his little guy for a bit before heading to his desk to type out a rough draft. Hima was a firecracker, full of energy and ideas, and hard to keep up with. She talked a mile a minute, often switching topics mid-thought as she spoke. He'd had his voice recorder on, but he liked to write his first draft from memory. He admired her passion for her work, and her determination to follow her own path. She was fiercely loyal to Ashton and grateful for the opportunity he'd given her. Calum would've suspected she was a bit smitten with her boss, but she openly admitted her crush. She was quick to insist Ashton had never encouraged or entertained the idea, but she didn't need to tell him that. 

Calum knew all about Ashton's history, the cheating, the fights, the messy breakup that brought the restaurant down. He exhaled, nervous about having that conversation. He shut his laptop, now too distracted to write. It's just an interview, calm down. He tried to be rational, but his thoughts kept drifting back to bumping into Ashton at the bar. The pink shirt, the star tattoo begging to be traced with his tongue, those hazel eyes that made his heart jump into his stomach. He tried to focus on his laptop. This article wasn't going to write itself. 

****

Ashton laid on his back, concentrating on his breathing as he pressed his knees to the floor in reclining bound angle pose. He'd had too much coffee, and although his body was tired, his mind was racing. His phone was vibrating on the dresser, but Ashton ignored it, moving into a butterfly pose and touching his forehead to the floor. He exhaled, trying to clear his mind. But all he could think about was Calum Hood. He had a brand new restaurant to run. Now was not a good time to become infatuated with a handsome reporter. So why haven't you stopped smiling all day?  

He breathed deeply, in, out, in, out. But he couldn't concentrate, couldn't calm down. He pushed himself off the floor and grabbed his water off the table. He opened his phone and was surprised to see a notification from the restaurant security system. 

Alarm deactivated at 12:02 AM 

Alarm Panel 2

Code: 4452

Ashton realized Hima was at the restaurant. He knew she usually went there after her accounting class but that definitely wasn't the case tonight. Probably popped in for a bottle of wine, which doesn't sound like a bad idea. 

The kitchen tiles were chilly beneath his bare feet as he headed towards the small wine fridge on his counter. Craving something sweet, he found a Shiraz he'd been saving and poured a small glass. He scrolled through Spotify, picking a playlist at random, and Robyn's  "Dancing on my Own" came over the speakers following him through the apartment back into his bedroom. He caught sight of himself in the mirror and paused. 

He pulled his shirt off and turned around examining the freshly-healed Phoenix tattoo decorating his left side from his hip to the top of his ribs,  covering up the tattoo of Luke's name, birth date, and their wedding date. He trusted his tattoo artist and let him have creative freedom on the brightly-colored feathers and flames. It turned out beautifully. He turned sideways, rubbing his stomach and flexing in the mirror. He was in the best shape he'd been in since he was a teenager. Yoga kept him toned and lean so he was muscled without being bulky.

I'm giving it my all

But I'm not the girl you're taking home

He let the Swedish synth-pop beat take over, his hips swaying as he listened to lyrics about loneliness and feeling left out.

I keep dancing on my own

The irony wasn't lost on him as he kept dancing, moving away from the mirror. The next song was too slow so he quickly scrolled looking for something better. He clicked on Whitney Houston's "How Will I Know," and began to sing along. He saw that Hima hadn't left the restaurant and opened up the security camera feed on his phone to make sure she was ok. 

****

The more Calum stared at the screen the more his concentration drifted. He wondered if Ashton had a type. Cal knew he was decent looking, but he wasn't Luke Hemmings. He snorted at the thought of that simpering pretty boy. Luke was a spoiled child, soft and weak, thinking only of himself. I bet he's selfish in bed, probably a bossy bottom  He was surprised at the surge of jealousy he felt. Don't bring Finn into this. He rubbed his temples at the memory of finding out his then-boyfriend was cheating with Luke.

Finn was always looking for an opportunity, whatever would take him to the next level. His relationship of almost a year with Calum failed to get him noticed in the food press. Finn felt Ashton didn't give him enough credit at Lune Rouge and whined constantly about it. Cal was having his own career struggles at the time and personally thought Finn was acting like a spoiled brat instead of being grateful for the opportunity. They began to spend less time together after Calum's snarky review caused a huge blow up. So when Ashton and Luke's relationship began to fray, Finn had time to lend a sympathetic ear. Calum suspected Finn was cheating, but he bought into the “golden couple” bullshit so Luke never crossed his mind. Calum was shocked and gutted when he walked in on the two of them one afternoon. Finn was supposed to be out of town, and Calum popped by to check on his dogs. The sound of sex greeted him when he opened the door and he should have left right then. His curiosity got the better of him, and he walked towards the bedroom. Their moans masked the sound of his boots as someone had a very loud orgasm. Calum opened the door as they were falling away from each other. He walked in to find them panting for breath, sweaty and beautiful with the afterglow. Luke panicked and tried to hide himself, but Finn didn't flinch. 

"Well, I guess you know now," he said, smirking as his green eyes met Calum's. "If you're down for it, we've been talking about trying a third. You can top us both if you want." He shrugged and Calum physically felt the spell break. Looking back, he knew Finn broke his ego more than his heart. He'd been humiliated when it all came out, but he knew the affair had been worse for Ashton. He could tell Ashton was still damaged but definitely not broken. Wouldn't mind letting him break me, Calum thought, his mind wandering back to that unbuttoned pink shirt, Ashton's chest and neck begging to be marked up. I bet he likes it rough. 

Calum caught himself daydreaming again and blinked the half-filled word document back into focus. He couldn't remember the last time he'd had a crush on someone, and he felt ridiculous. How am I gonna get through this interview?  It didn't help that Hima kept teasing him about it being a date. Calum's last date, with Nick the lawyer, had been a disaster. He'd ended up leaving after Nick disappeared on another phone call.

The truth was, he was excited about this interview and wished it really was a date. He'd scheduled a quick haircut and shave in the morning and carefully picked out an outfit. He figured his short-sleeve, red button-up paired with a black tank underneath would show off his arms while helping to hide his tummy pudge. He rubbed his stomach, still poking out from the leftover Indian food he'd finished off an hour ago, before letting his hand wander down and brushing his fingers across his cock and feeling it twitch in his basketball shorts. He wondered what Ashton would be wearing tomorrow. He pictured Ashton at the club, the ripped black jeans and the pink shirt unbuttoned enough to tease him. His dick twitched in his hand, waking up and demanding attention. 

****

Ashton gasped and almost dropped his phone at the sight of Hima standing in the break room in nothing but her bra and panties. He hadn't recovered from that shock when a male figure crawled into the frame. It took Ashton several seconds to realize the man was nude and covered in tattoos. The tattoos rang a bell, and he realized he was looking at Dakota, model/actor, Maisie's nephew, and a server at Anne Marie's. Dakota was a dark, brooding pretty boy with a perfect pink pout and tousled dark curls that he was always brushing out of his eyes. He was great at his job, but other than that he'd made no impression on Ashton, until now. Ashton watched the younger man on his knees in front of Hima as he sucked on her bright pink cock. What the fuck is happening?

Ashton blinked at his screen, still processing everything when Dakota stood up and bent over the table. Hima lined up behind him and thrust her hips against his ass. Ashton gulped for air and felt beads of sweat break out on his upper lip. He watched for a minute, hypnotized by Dakota writhing in pleasure, his black curls bouncing with every stroke, shoulders hunching over as he gripped the table. Ashton's mind flashed to Calum and what it would look like to have him bent over like that. He realized his dick was getting hard and quickly closed the app, feeling embarrassed for invading her privacy. He fumbled getting his phone into his pocket and accidentally skipped to the next song. "Anytime, Any Place," by Janet Jackson filled the room.  He laughed to himself at the sexy song and took another sip of wine. 

****

Calum squeezed himself through his clothes. He vaguely remembered Finn telling him Ashton was rumored to have a massive cock. He groaned at the thought of Ashton's hazel eyes looking down at him while he was on his knees. He imagined Ashton's cock brushing against his lips, teasing both of them. Calum groaned and gave up any pretense of trying to work. He stood up too quickly and knocked his chair over causing Brutus to wake from a dead sleep and start barking his head off. 

"It's ok, boy," Calum assured him, making sure he laid back down before going into his bedroom and shutting the door. Moments later he was stripped down to his boxers and shirt digging through his top dresser drawer until he found the small bag hiding under his socks. He pulled a bottle of lube and a small silicone sleeve out of the bag and walked back to the bed. He peeled off his shirt, kicked off his underwear and laid on his back on the bed. His cock was flat against his stomach, and as Calum reached for it he wondered what Ashton was doing right now.

****

Ashton felt the plug slip into his ass and shivered at the chill of the stainless steel. He wiped his hands off on a towel and walked out of the bathroom into his bedroom. The music was still playing. Janet's silky smooth voice gave way to Beyonce’s sultry vocals

Baby put your arms around me

Tell me I'm a problem

He walked back into his bedroom, feeling delicious shivers from the pressure on his prostate as he moved. The city lights illuminated the room from the open blinds on the balcony. 

Stop acting so scared, just do what I tell

First go through my legs, go back on your head

And whatever you want, yeah baby I'll bet it comes true

He reached down and squeezed his dick, rubbing his thumb over the tip down to the sensitive underside of the ridge. Pulling the shaft down and away from his body, pushing almost to the point of pain before easing up and giving it a nice slow stroke. He repeated the motion, each time pulling a little harder, edging a little closer to making it hurt, each time when he pulled back the relief was more intense. His fantasies were new visions: dark eyes and black curls still coming into focus in his mind's eye. He squeezed his muscles around the plug as he tapped the remote on the table next to him. The plug began to vibrate on the lowest speed and Ashton hissed at the sensation. He wondered if he'd let Calum fuck him.  Ashton didn't bottom very often. Luke didn't like to do the work, rarely agreed to switch up and whined whenever he did.  Calum looked like he could give as well as he got. 

***

Calum grunted as he pushed his cock, slick and shiny with lube, into the sleeve. His hips jerked upwards into the air as the countless smooth nubby fingers lining the inside of the toy closed around his swollen shaft, gripping and massaging the taut skin with every stroke. He screwed his eyes shut picturing Ashton on his back with his knees pulled up to his chest as he begged for him. Calum bit his lip to stifle a moan, slowing down his speed, not wanting to cum too fast. Hima told him Ashton called himself a “bendy boy” and had a strict yoga routine which just sent Calum's mind spinning, picturing trying different positions until Ashton was screaming for him. Calum moved his hand away, leaving the toy. The scenario in his mind began to switch up. The only thing Calum could think of hotter than fucking Ashton was getting railed by his massive cock. 

****

The combed cotton, high-thread-count pillowcase felt velvety soft and air-conditioned chilled when he bunched the pillow in his fists as he thrust his hips, burying his shaft in the soft folds. It felt amazing but was cold comfort when he was craving Calum's body heat. He turned the remote up a notch and adjusted the settings; a pulse pattern began throbbing against his core. He squeezed down on his dick even harder. He could feel the delicate feathers snapping under his fingers, but he didn't care. Ashton ached for release, longing to have Calum in his bed tonight. Every nerve in his body seemed to come alive as his orgasm began to build. His hips pumped faster trying to match the pulsing rhythm inside him. He wanted Calum, with a craving he’d never felt before. Something in those dark eyes challenged Ashton. There was something about this mysterious reporter that he needed to discover. He was getting closer with every stroke, the fantasy switching to pounding Calum into the mattress, seeing how well he could throw it back. The image was too much and he shuddered, cursing out loud as his climax hit. His hips stuttered and his legs wobbled, forcing him to his knees. The vibrator extended his orgasm, milking him drop by drop as he whimpered and fumbled for the remote. When he finally turned it off, he rolled onto his back and tried to catch his breath, thankful he'd bought a nice fluffy rug to put next to his bed. .  

****

Calum flipped over onto his stomach, grinding down with his hips, the sleeve moving with the friction. He wondered if Ashton was vanilla or if he could get into Calum's slight pain kink. He'd looked for Ashton on FetLife to no avail, but he was fairly sure he'd found Hima so that was a surprise. Calum reached up and tugged his nipple hard as his hips rocked slowly. There was a power to Ashton. He had a dominant side which Calum had clearly seen in his dynamic with Luke, despite Ashton being smaller in size. Calum wanted to see how he'd take charge because he wasn't soft like Luke, but he had no doubt Ashton could handle him. Calum raised himself up on his forearms, pumping his hips furiously. He thought about those arms wrapped around his neck, his teeth grazing Ashton's blood moon tattoos as he bent Cal over and took him hard and fast. He whimpered, biting the pillow, his rhythm starting to stutter as he thought about Ashton looking up at him, eyes wide with Calum's hand at his throat as they reached their high together. Calum was just at the edge when he quickly rolled over, removing the toy and ruining his orgasm. He gasped, his whole body shaking as his release spilled onto his belly. After a moment he reached down, using the sleeve to tease the tip through the aftershocks until it became too sensitive to touch. He was hungry again, so he grabbed a Kleenex and wiped himself off as best he could before walking, still naked, back through his house to turn on the oven. Pizza was always a good snack after sex, and he had an article to work on.

@sublimehood​​ @tea4sykes​​ @be-ready-when-i-say-go​ @scribblesos​​ @kiiiimberlyriiiicker1995​​ @wildmichaelflower​​ @castaway-cashton​​ @damselindistressanu​​ @notinthesameguey​​ @cashtonasfuck​ @irwinkitten​ @mermaidcashton​​ @malumsmermaid​​

[starker-stories]

Seven Dirty Words

@bannedtogetherbingo2020​

Also on AO3

Characters: Peter Parker, Tony Stark, Clint Barton, Natasha Romanov (Marvel), James "Rhodey" Rhodes, James "Bucky" Barnes, Steve Rogers, Michelle Jones, Ned Leeds, Flash Thompson

Archive Warnings: Underage (peer-to-peer)

Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - High School, same age au, Peer Sexual Situations, Explicit Language, misogynistic language, Bullying, Bets & Wagers, Pre-Relationship, Minor Clint Barton/Natasha Romanov, Minor Bucky Barnes/Steve Rogers, Precious Peter Parker, Bad Boy Tony Stark, Protective Tony Stark

------------------------------------------------------

Peter Parker was the sweetest, most innocent, clearly virgin, flower at Midtown Tech. Utterly clueless to nine-tenths of what was going on around him. He wandered around in fluffy long sweaters, with thumb holes no less. Completely oblivious to anyone who ever took notice of his messy chestnut curls, his honey brown doe eyes, or his very pert little ass. Or who might’ve been paying enough attention to notice how the gym uniform showed off his lean, strong thighs, his broad shoulders and narrow waist, and the fact that his arms were far less delicate than his sweater sleeves indicated. 

All of which were things that Tony Stark definitely took notice of. Tony was the exact opposite of Peter in just about every way. He was an archetypal bad boy. He knew everything that was going on around him. He was aware that everyone thought he was sex on legs, albeit more trouble than he was probably worth — and he was worth a lot of trouble according to the guys he’d been to bed with. He wore his almost black hair in slicked back waves. His eyes were like dark chocolate and almost as bitter. Except when he thought he wasn’t being observed while he was observing pretty Peter Parker.

“You’re drooling on your lunch,” Nat said with an overexaggerated eyeroll.

“Peter isn’t going to give you the time of day,” Steve said. “He knows what you are.”

“Remind me why we let you sit at our table again, Rogers,” Tony said, his voice dripping with disgust. “Oh yeah. You keep my friend Bucky’s cock warm. I’m tellin’ ya Buck, you can do better than a blond himbo.”

Steve got to half-standing before Bucky put his hand on his boyfriend’s shoulder and sat him down. “All right Stark,” Bucky warned. “We’ve had this fight before. Let it go.”

Peter was coming back from the lunch line when he tripped over his own feet just as he was walking past Tony’s table. He managed to catch himself before he hit the ground and save his tray at the same time. But when he stood up and looked to see who's table he’d fallen in front of, he blushed. “Shit,” he muttered quietly, embarrassed, and quickly walked on to the nerds’ table.

Everyone at Tony’s table was wide-eyed to hear the sweet innocent Peter Parker come out with that word.

“Language!” Steve called out.

Tony snickered. “Well, he knows one of the seven.”

“Betcha that’s the only one he knows,” Rhodes said. “Run ’em, Tones.”

“The heavy seven,” Tony said with a smirk. “You think Parker’s got it in him?”

“Nah,” Bucky said. “No way.” “Wanna bet?” Tony said.

“Against who?” Rhodes asked. “We’re all in agreement.”

“Are we?” Tony arched his eyebrow.

“Tony, even you aren’t desperate enough to take that bet,” Nat said.

Tony shrugged. “What’s the odds you’re all gonna give me?”

“What are the words?” Steve said, frowning, trying to think of all the words he never said, despite being allowed to sit at the bad kids’ table and being boyfriends with Bucky-swears-like-an-army-sergeant-Barnes.

“Fewer than you think,” Tony snorted. “Seven. That’s all. The ones you can never say on TV, ever.”

“Goddamn?” Steve posited. “That one of them?”

The table laughed.

“No, babe. But what, specifically, are they?” Bucky asked. “I can think of three… maybe four.”

“Shit piss fuck cunt cocksucker motherfucker and tits,” Tony said, very fast.

Rhodey laughed. They’d found an old comedy album, probably once belonging to Howard, up in Tony’s attic.

“No way,” Nat scoffed. “Pretty perfect prissy Peter Parker…” Tony gave her a sideways glare, “…will never say all seven of those words. I’ll believe maybe five. But the other two? Never.”

“Which other two,” Clint asked her, puzzled look on his face. Nat leaned over and whispered in his ear. “Yep. No way he says all seven.”

“Rhodey, make us a spread,” Tony said, passing his graph notebook over. “Number of words each of us wagers that he’ll say, over time. Max time, one month. Betting open only to this table. Give us odds and everyone place your bets. Keep it quiet, guys. You’ll ruin the experiment. Skews the result when the subject knows and no one else in this school can keep their damn mouths shut.”

“Meddling allowed?” Clint asked.

“Sure. As long as it’s not a direct prompt and as long as you don’t tell Parker. One of you clues him in, the game ends and all bets are mine by default,” Tony warned.

∼∼∼∼∼

“Oh, fuck you, Barton!” Nat yelled down the hall at top volume when she was standing next to Peter.

“You shouldn’t say that,” Peter chided, hand on his hip. “Some of the freshmen at this school are early entrants and too young to hear you say that word.”

“Yeah, I know. ‘Barton’ is a dirty fucking word,” she scowled.

“No. Not his name. The other word.”

“What other word, Parker?” Nat turned, smirking at him.

“You know! There are kids here.”

“No, I don’t know. Enlighten me, Parker. What fucking word should I eliminate from my motherfucking vocabulary,” she said, going for two.

“‘Fuck’,” Peter hissed quietly. “Jess is only eleven. Her locker’s next to mine. Thankfully she doesn’t come to her locker between second and third period.”

“God, Parker.” Nat shook her head before chasing after Clint. “Hold the FUCK up!”

“I got fuck out of him,” she told Clint and Tony when she caught up to them.

“Corroboration?” Tony asked.

“I heard it,” Bucky said. “Everyone with two, moves on. That’s you out, gorgeous,” he said to Steve and gave him a kiss on the cheek.

“I wouldn’t have thought it,” Steve said, shaking his head sadly. “A lot of people say the s-word when startled. I didn’t hold that against Peter. But the f-word?”

Tony sputtered a laugh. “Bucky, does he ever swear when you’re f-wording him?”

Steve blushed as red as the stripes on his American flag notebook.

“Best I ever got was a little light blasphemy,” Bucky said, draping his arm over Steve’s shoulder and pulling him in for a kiss. “Or maybe I really am god.”

“Let me at America’s ass and I bet I could get an f-word or two outta him,” Tony leered.

Steve stepped back. Even though he had a good four inches and thirty pounds on Tony, Tony was a dirty fighter. Steve found that out the hard way. So he left it to Bucky to defend his honor. Which he did.

Bucky wasn’t a clean fighter either and had height on Tony. But Tony wasn’t just a dirty fighter, he could be down right nasty when he thought he was losing. By the time five teachers and the coach managed to break it up, both of them were bleeding. And both of them got a three day suspension.

∼∼∼∼∼

Once the so-called ‘f-word’ passed Peter’s lips, it did so again, same as the s-word had. Always said very quietly when Peter was utterly exasperated with a situation.

Clint, Bucky, Rhodey, and Steve (reluctantly), boxed Peter in against the wall when Peter was carrying a hall pass.

“Heading somewhere?” Bucky asked.

“The bathroom,” Peter said nervously.

“Why? Gonna take a bath?

“Please let me pass.”

“Pass where? Where’s that pass for?” Clint asked, moving in closer, making the box tighter.

“The lavatory,” Peter tried a different word.

“Lavatory… derived from the Latin lavare by way of the medieval Latin lavatorium, meaning wash basin,” Rhodey droned, imitating the school’s boring Latin teacher. “Going to wash your hands, Parker?”

He was even more intimidating than usual. Thursdays were his Air Force JROTC days. Which he somehow managed to stay in, despite being best friends with Tony Stark. It helped that Tony took the blame/credit for any hijinks that Rhodey got himself into.

“Fuck,” Peter muttered. “I need to go to the ba… I need to pee.”

Clint was prepared. He opened his notebook and pulled out a cut-out paper letter ‘P’. “You need a P?” he asked, tossing it at Peter.

Clint, Rhodey, and Bucky all had three-plus words in the pool. Steve got dragged along because Bucky insisted, even though he was out of the race.

“Guys, please.”

“Please what, Parker?” Bucky asked. His black eye was an ugly yellow and the ragged cut on his forehead only made him look more menacing.

“I need to… piss,” Peter finally said.

“Shit, son, why didn’t you just say so,” Rhodey said, stepping out of Peter’s way, laughing. “Hope you make it, Parker.”

“Skirtin’ close to the rules on that one,” Tony drawled.

“Didn’t prompt him,” Clint said.

“He doesn’t know,” Bucky added.

“Game still on,” Rhodey said, unfolding the graph of the spread. “Three plus advancing. Which is everyone. Bucky has six. I have four. Clint and Nat have five. Steve’s out. And Tony’s in for all seven.”

Tony walked off saying, “Should’a made everyone list which ones they were counting toward their total.”

“Should’a, but you didn’t,” Rhodey said with a nod, following him.

“Or made him have to say them in order,” Clint said, trailing behind, sharing shop class with the other two.

“But you didn’t,” Nat chimed in, joining from the other hall.

∼∼∼∼∼

“Everybody’s gotta have at least an ounce of cool in them. Even you, Parker,” Rhodey said, giving Peter a friendly smile, falling into step beside him. They shared AP Spanish.

Peter blushed and looked down. Of the bad boys, which included one bad girl, Rhodes was the nicest, the bathroom incident notwithstanding. “I promise you, James, I am completely lacking.”

“Nah, kid.” They were the same age. “You gotta have an ounce in there somewhere. You ever see Pulp Fiction?”

“Yes,” Peter admitted. “Ned’s older brother likes it.”

“See!” Rhodes said brightly. “One ounce. I was thinking of taking drama. You wanna do a scene with me?”

Peter giggled. “I’m not in drama.”

“Yeah, but I really need to get expressing fear down. I’m having trouble with emotions. Carol, who is in drama, says you have to do exercises in emotions. She’s into drama and I’m into her. Only, fear is hard for me. But there’s a great fear scene in Pulp Fiction. You be Jules, I’ll be Brett.”

“Wouldn’t it be better if…”

Rhodes quirked an accusing eyebrow. “Are you saying that I have to be Jules?”

“No… no. It’s just… Jules has more lines.”

“I know, that’s what makes it hard. I have to show fear just using one word. If I do that for tryouts, it’ll really impress her. Do you remember the scene?”

“Uh huh.”

“Fantastic!” Rhodey grinned. “You start it with: ‘What does Marcellus Wallace look like?’ Can you take it on your own from there?”

“Uh… yeah, I remember it.” Peter sighed. “It’s Ron’s favorite movie. We have to sit through it, and not tell Ned’s mom, if we want to watch anything that we want to.”

“Okay then. Go.”

Peter bit his lip. He wasn’t any kind of an actor, but all he had to do was say his lines and James would react to them. He didn’t have to act the lines. It was nice that James was being friendly to him. On his own, away from (the not at all hot and sexy) Tony Stark’s influence, James had always seemed nice.

“What does Marcellus Wallace look like?” Peter said quietly.

Rhodey quivered his lip in fear. “What?”

“What country are you from,” Peter said the next line very much like a shy white boy and very much unlike a table-throwing Samuel L. Jackson.

“Wh… wha… what?” Rhodes was hamming it up. A small group had gathered but kept their distance, not wanting to risk interrupting the ridiculous-looking drama.

“That isn’t a country I’ve heard of.” Peter corrected Tarantino's grammar. “Do they speak English in What?”

“What?” Rhodey managed to look terrified.

“English, motherfucker, do you speak it,” Peter said meekly, being quiet on the swear word.

The collected group and Rhodey burst into laughter. “There’s your ounce of cool for the day.” He turned and bowed to the crowd. “Courtesy of one Peter B. Parker.” Everyone headed off to class so as not to miss the bell. Peter was quiet and near tears during Spanish.

After the class let out, Tony was waiting down the hall. He grabbed Rhodey by the shirt collar and dragged him into the bathroom, pushing him up against the wall. “You’re a prick,” he hissed.

Rhodey shrugged. “He’s your boyfriend, not mine.” Tony let go and he straightened out his shirt. “Got the word. That’s four. Which means I’m out if he says one more. I was doing you a favor.”

Tony pushed past Rhodey, kicking the door open. “Don’t do me anymore!”

∼∼∼∼∼

The table didn’t have to do anything to get the next word out of Peter. That came courtesy of Flash Thompson. Popular, bully, but never quite making the cut for the table. Flash bullied Peter, the table bullied Flash. Shit rolled downhill just like the gods intended.

“You know you do, Penis.”

“Just leave me alone, Flash,” Peter sighed, tired of listening to the other boy.

“You’d totally do it for Tony Stark. You’d beg him for it.”

Peter turned bright red. He turned to walk away but ran into Clint and Nat, who were making out against the lockers. “Sorry.”

“Did you hear something?” Nat said.

“Nothing worth noticing, honey.”

“Shut the fuck up, Barton.” Nat shut him up with a kiss.

“You’d trip over your own two feet to get on your knees if Stark so much as looked at you,” Flash taunted.

Clint and Nat broke their kiss just long enough to give the other a curious look.

Peter closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “Shut the fuck up, Flash,” he said, in quiet imitation of Nat.

Flash spun Peter around, putting his back to his locker and punched him in the gut. “Say it, Penis.” He grabbed Peter’s shoulders, standing him back up and slamming him into the lockers. “If you won’t do it, say, ‘I’m not a cocksucker’ and maybe I’ll believe you. Say it or I’ll tell everyone you are.” He pulled his fist back, threatening another punch.

Peter had tears welling in his eyes. “I’m not a cocksucker,” he said, sniffling.

Flash’s hands were suddenly pulled off Peter’s shoulders because he was yanked away into the middle of the hall. Tony’s fist shot up, catching him on his jaw, sending Flash sprawling, unconscious, on the floor.

“Who cares, Parker?” Tony said nonchalantly. “I suck dick if the guy’s cute enough and lets me fuck him. Got a problem with that?” Tony asked the crowd gathered to see the (very brief) fight.

Everyone shuffled away, heads down, making denials about caring. And no one had seen what happened to Flash when the teachers came asking.

∼∼∼∼∼

“We’ve got five. That leaves Nat and Clint on the cliff’s edge. Only Buck and Tone standing firm,” Rhodey said, marking off the sheet.

“You’ll never get the last two out of him,” Nat said. “He’s friends with that Jones chick. She’s one of those uber-feminists. If he says them, she’ll cut him a new asshole.”

“I gotta agree with Nat on this one,” Clint said.

“Of course you do,” Tony scoffed. “Otherwise you’re gonna have to come to me or Bucky if you wanna get your ass fucked.”

“That was one time!” Clint objected. “Even Deadpool got pegged in that movie. And he liked it.”

That sent the table laughing, even Nat, said wearer of the strap.

“You wouldn’t,” Steve said, shooting Bucky a look.

“Nah babe. You’ve got exclusive rights to my cock. You keep him more than happy.” He and Steve made out sloppily for a while. “Tony’s gotta take care of Barton’s ass all on his own if he pisses off Nat too much.”

Tony shrugged. “I’m not into straight guys, but to help a buddy out, I’d make the sacrifice.”

Clint threw his water bottle across the table at Tony, hitting the center of his forehead with the cap end with pinpoint accuracy. It sent Tony sprawling out of his chair, nearly braining him unconscious.

“Barbarians shouldn’t go up against Rangers,” Rhodey said.

“We should send Rhodes to the nerd table.” Steve said. You played D and D? Wait. Stark was a barbarian? He played too?” Steve started laughing.

“I was not a barbarian. I was a rogue. And we were fucking ten. Your boyfriend was the barbarian,” Tony smirked, climbing back into his chair. “Barton was a ranger, Nat a wizard, and Rhodey was the barbarian. You, Rogers, were probably picking your nose in third grade, since you’re only a frosh. We’re seniors and you’re fifteen like the rest of us.”

“Lay off, Tony,” Bucky warned. “Or I’ll start running through your own list of dumb blonds.” He realized what he said. “Of which my dear Steven is not one.”

“Even Parker’s a senior,” Tony said, rolling his eyes.

“Yes, we all know your princess’ grade. And his class schedule. And what fucking color of fluffy sweater he wore yesterday,” Steve shot back.

“Ask him out already,” Nat said.

“So he can reject you,” Clint added.

“And we don’t have to hear about him anymore,” Rhodey finished.

“Game’s still on, losers,” Tony said, pushing away from the table, sporting a perfectly circular red spot on his forehead.

∼∼∼∼∼

The next word was also a freebie. Drawn out, in a literal sense of the word, by the person the table never would’ve expected.

Peter was sitting at the nerds’ table. Which was now next to the bad kids’ table. Tony’s group had been moving steadily up toward the back of the lunch room since the game began. Hoping to overhear more words, or get the opportunity to provoke them. These last two they all, even Tony, expected would take work.

They never would’ve guessed that one Michelle Jones would make Peter say one of those words.

MJ held up her sketchbook. Peter sputtered and laughed.

“I don’t get it?” Ned said, looking at the picture of a girl with two tiny yellow chested birds on either hand, held up in front of her.

“Are you three?” Peter asked MJ.

With a straight face she answered, “I don’t know what you mean, Parker.”

Peter rolled his eyes. He did it almost as good as Tony did. The corners of MJ’s mouth twitched up just a little.

“I still don’t get it.” Ned said, looking closer. “It’s Cinderella, right?”

“No,” Peter said laughing still.

“What is it!?” Ned was getting annoyed at not being in on the joke.

“It’s a drawing of a girl with two birds,” MJ said.

“How is that funny?”

“They’re a pair of great tits,” Peter said, turning red.

Ned’s mouth gaped open and he stared at the picture.

“Get a good look, Leeds,” MJ said deadpan. “Only time you’ll see a pair.”

“That’s mean,” Peter said, swatting MJ’s arm.

“They’re not common birds in North America,” MJ said. “Get your mind out of the gutter, Parker.”

∼∼∼∼∼

To their credit, the table managed not to crack up until they got outside for a smoke break. The non-smokers always tagged along with Tony, Nat, and Bucky.

“Fuck,” Clint said. “I’d’a sworn he never would’ve said that.”

“Should it count?” Nat argued. “He wasn’t talking about tits.”

“Yes he was,” Bucky said, laughing. “Only way a boy that gay is gonna ever mention them.”

“Oh shut up. You’re that gay and you’re always talking about mine for some god only knows reason,” Nat said. “You’re just upset because you lost. But I’m gonna win. You’ll never get the last one out of him, Tony,” Bucky said. “No one else is gonna help you, either. Not with that word.”

“Leave the last word to me,” Tony smirked.

∼∼∼∼∼

“Peter,” Tony said, leaning against the locker next to the boy’s. He was only going to go for getting the word. But Peter was wearing the dark yellow sweater that went so well with his eyes. It distracted him.

Peter sighed heavily. “Whatever you’re doing, just leave me out of it, okay? Your best friend already had his fun.”

“The only reason he didn’t leave the bathroom head first is because we’ve been friends since first grade. Otherwise I’d’a laid him out like that wannabe, Thompson.”

“Yeah, right,” Peter said skeptically.

“I’d…” Tony hesitated. Tony never hesitated. “You wanna go out with me?” he finally asked in a rush.

“Huh?” Peter blinked, stunned. Then he came to his senses. “Great joke. Which of them put you up to this? Is there some kind of bet going on?”

“For me to ask you out? No.” Tony was offended. Sure, there was a bet, but not for this. He could get the word out of Peter without asking him out. “It’s… I think… you’re…” God he was stuttering as badly as Parker did. “I think you’re pretty,” Tony said, looking away.

“This is cruel, Tony,” Peter said, sadly. “Even for you. Half the school’s probably knows I have a crush on you, if Flash noticed.”

“You have a crush on me? Why?” He was dumbfounded.

Peter turned to face Tony and leaned his shoulder against his locker. “Because I don’t think this is who you are.”

Tony scoffed. “Yeah, Pete. This is who I am.”

“Okay, then.” Peter looked up, meeting Tony’s eye. ��I don’t think this is all of who you are.”

“You don’t know me,” Tony sighed.

“If you asking me out isn’t a joke or a bet, maybe I could get to?” Peter stepped closer so he could speak quietly. “I promise you, there’s more to you than this, Anthony.”

Tony’s eyes narrowed. He opened his mouth. It hung there a moment and then he closed it with an audible pop. He cocked his head to the side and examined Peter like he was some rare specimen of butterfly. And wondered why he hadn’t walked away. Or done worse. “It’s not a joke,” he said quietly. His plan for winning just flew out the window. “There isn’t a bet.”

Peter smirked. He leaned back again, far enough away that he had to speak conversationally for Tony to hear him.

“Then kiss me, you dumb cunt.”

[monstcrmade]

headcanoning villains as lgbt is super problematic and you shouldn't do it

Bruh.

You already sent me this like...a week ago?????? I think??? I responded to it here

Get like a hobby or something, I am begging you, rather than try to virtue signal at me. Twice. With the same exact message. 

As a queer person, I genuinely do not care what the fuck you think I should or shouldn’t do with LGBT+ headcanons for any character. I like thinking that Primo is queer. This might sound weird to you, but Primo is a comfort character of mine. Yes, he’s a bad man, he does bad things. He’s part of the fucking Calabrian mafia, but by God I love him to bits. (And despite what so many on tumblr think, that doesn’t mean anything about me as a person. Shockingly, you can like bad people and not be bad or even agree with the things they do). He lives in my head rent free.

Primo also literally has so much queer-coding in the series and I made a post about a bunch of it here. Even my fiancee who re-watched the series with me agrees with the headcanon and was also pointing things out as well whilst watching and agreed that Primo is very much queer-coded. We both say that Primo bugging Leonardo like he does is him flirting with the other man ffs. There is also absolutely zero heterosexual explanation for sharing his coke with Paul like he does in episode.4.

And don’t come at me with ‘but Primo called Gail hot!’ I mean, yeah, of course he did. He possesses working eyeballs and Hilary Swank is a beautiful woman. Queer men can appreciate female beauty. And literally outside that one like throw-away line which, for context, is when he’s high off his ass and making plans for how he wants the ransom money from her delivered, he shows zero interest in any other woman. The scene takes place in a strip club. Tons of scantly clad women around him and this man doesn’t give a single flying fuck. He was sitting with a prostitute in this scene as well and nothing at all about their interaction carries the least bit of sexual anything to it. And when do we see the prostitute character next? When she’s helping Primo to kill his misogynistic, abusive, piece of shit uncle lmao. Again, not a sexual interaction between them.

That one line in episode.9 is nothing compared to all the queer-coding of Primo Nizzuto. He’s gay af. This man has never seen a vagina in his life except the one he came out of.

I can and will headcanon characters anyway I want. If I want to headcanon Primo as gay, bi, trans, genderqueer, WHATEVER, I can. Him being a “villain” (and frankly even that’s debatable if he’s the real villain of the series. I say no though I do say he’s still a bad man cause he is) changes nothing for that. I like me some queer villains too. Cisgender straight villains only is the most boring shit in the world.

Now leave me to write Primo however I damn please. Keep pushing me and I will be forced to piss you off more and just make LGBT+ headcanons of ALL of Luca Marinelli’s characters (except Fabrizio de André because y’know, he was a real fucking person).

[iliveinmyblanket]

Chapter one: I introduce you to my hoes

"fuck" I screamed, as I faked an orgasm for an Orangists in Holland. 

My name is Valentine Du Lac and I have the attention span of a goldfish. I’m Queen Anne of Austria, the spanish queen of france’s personal but probably not favourite spy (everybody knows that it was Madame D’Artagnan), quite frankly because I am a right pain in her arse. But I’m still often the one she sends out on a missions - no one’s going to care if a prostitute from the Court of Miracles has gone missing. She’s never said that, but it’s implied with the job.

The Job:  I was here to be the orangist’s lover and listen in on his conversations or force myself to listen in. Believe it or not Traditionalists are the most boring people I've ever met, which is funny because I've had to spend hours listening to Lucy Walters who invented the word ditzy. 

I'm gonna just give you a summary of me and Orange dutchman conversation. I forgot his name so I've just been replying to him as "sir" because quite frankly I don't have the attention span to care about man who assassinated some himbo named Johan DeWitt and his brother something deWitt -forgot his name to. I remember Johan because I like the name Johan, oh it's cornelis - see that's why I didn't remember it -what kind of pretentious name is cornelis? 

Anyway my job here was to get information, there was none, mainly because he already assassinated someone so he could stage a coup.

not really anything important. which really pissed me off, Anne really got freaked out by orange dutchman who were assassinating people and also got tipped off that traditionalists were heading to france.

which is bull. 

which is good because I don't ever have to see Orange Dutchman again.

Orange Dutchman gripped my hair, sniffing my neck and whispered, "will I see you again?"

A gave him a soft but fake smile, "of course sir"

No you won't, if you do, I will give you the deWitt treatment.

I smiled, kissed his cheek, and fucked off.

As you can tell I'm not one for too much detail in regards to things I don't care about.

All I am going to say is this is the story of how I and  two other bosses - Dominique Treville and Marie-Cessette Du Vallon; basically saved europe with our strength, swords, witty banter and aided by two himbos named Xandre and Raoul. 

get ready for adventure because we make it look bitchin'.

While I was heading back home, Dominique Treville - the daughter of the captain of the musketeer was also heading over there very quickly after reading a rather scary letter. whilst Marie-Cessette du Vallon already there she too lived at my home but had returned from a meeting with one member of the royal family. she  was now at the tavern with her fellow musketeers - Raoul de la Fare and Alexandre-Olivier D'artagnan. Marie-Cessette was the first female musketeer and one of the best of them.

now technically the home I am talking about is Paris, but you have to look inside further. not at the shiny places, not at the places that appear lively. I mean the place that looks dark, that looks broken. Look into the place that appears to be to be lifeless, but when you turn off the lights at the places that are seen to outshine everything. The place that is broken lights up like the sun.

The Court of Miracles.

The Court of Miracles is said to be the slums, the dirtiest part of Paris. that's according to the richest of Parisians. the court of miracles is the most interesting place in france, full of people of different races, of different accents, different appearances.  the most welcoming place in europe. though the structures were unstable, the society is most happy, most beautiful. see you were never judged for your job, or who you are, or what you did outside - as long as you didn't bring too much of that inside.

My mother moved from england after the english civil war, I was 16 years old, she was a whore just as I am now - puritan england was no place for a prostitute and her  out-of-wedlock daughter. She died a year later of syphilis, leaving a poor daughter penniless. 

So what does a daughter of a prostitute do, when their mother dies.

Becomes a fucking prostitute.

As opposed to non-fucking prostitutes. Years later a dark haired woman, with a blue dress and a black hooded, guided me to the palace and introduced me to the benevolent queen of france. it was suggested that I become her spy as I had caught the eye of many religious and royal officials. a women can never escape the male gaze, so why not use that to your advantage.

Marie-Cessette, whom was was an adventurous, resourceful girl, with a temper, and the first female musketeer. she was opinionated and did speak up when she didn't  agree with the men in her life. it's surprising neither of us became executed for being witches, men do not like being told what to do even if they are being outrageously pathetic. This night, this less than fine night because the sky was fucking pissing itself, Marie-Cessette was leaving a tavern in the court, she wore a white linen shirt, a blue leather doublet with the musketeers symbol (a crown) and black linen breeches with blue boots, and probably something gay like "I am gay" or "if found please return to Anne-Marie D'Orleans" I wasn't there, I'm under the assumption she was wearing that, that night considering that is the musketeers uniform not the “I am gay” part although they should have that as the uniform. Marie-Cessette had brown curly hair (proper curly, not some movie bullshit curly) that was short and tied in a bun.

Her eyes are dark and watchful. she was leaving to go to her uncle Aramis (not by blood but by heart).

Her father is the Musketeer Porthos du Vallon, who grew up in the court. he joined the musketeers when he 16. that was his only good choice out of the thousand terrible options for those born into destitution. That's where he met Aramis and Athos, the three of them becoming inseparable. that's where he met D'Artagnan -Xan's father, actually no he met D'Artagnan when D'Artagnan decided to stir shit up and duel three musketeers in one day. but that's another story, literally another story, literally in another book.

her mother Puce is known as the queen of the court, that means basically giving those in the court food and shelter, kicking people out that are stirring up trouble.

Puce and Porthos never had a son so even though Marie was to inherit the court of miracles crown, she was trained as a musketeer because Porthos wanted to raise one. did Marie get a choice? no? is she happy beating up misogynists? hella.

This girl that fought better than the manliest of men (although I wouldn't actual call them manly) was heading to her uncle Aramis, why? so he could deliver a love letter to Marie-Cessette's lover - Anne-Marie D'Orleans, the king's cousin.

so yeah isn't that like superillegal? yeah, not the homo part, I mean it is a bit. but like not as vibe checking as bedding the king's cousin when she is female.

guys be fucking whoever they want, but girls ArE ToO FrAgIlE aNd HaVE a ROle.

Meanwhile we go back to Dominique.  now Dominique she has had some pretty fucking horrible news.

Dominique Treville was the brunette usually snarky daughter of Treville, the captain of the musketeers. now nothing is snarky, everything for her is humourless. this morning Dominique had received news that  Treville had been murdered by the musketeer Aramis.

which as you can see is definitely not the case, why the fuck would Aramis the himbo who invented the word "straight ally" kill someone who he sees as a father?

he wouldn't.

But a girl who lived in the country with no knowledge of Aramis doesn't know. you probably shouldn't tell her that when she's a holding a fucking knife.

"put down the knife or you lose your neck"

Dominique turned slightly, noticing the blade that sat on her shoulder and centimetres away from her neck, while Dominique was standing over the Aramis who was sleeping

"he killed my father, so I wouldn't be protecting the murderer" Dominique replied agitated, she was in layman's term is done. with. everyone's. shit.

Marie-cessette - who was the owner of the blade had no Idea Dominique had another knife

Dominique batted the rapier away with said knife and pointed it at Marie.

If you want to understand how much of a boss Marie is, well just understand if she were to ever do a DNA test, it would show she's a hundred percent that bitch.  She grabbed Dominique's knife and punched her in the gut, then kicked her in the shins, Marie-Cessette proceeded to pick up her Rapier, as she did so, Dominique ran at her with her knife.

Aramis shot up from his bed and grabbed his rapier, held it against Dominique's neck and then held her in a choke hold.

"cessy, what in the lord's name is going on?" He grumbled sleepily.

Marie-Cessette shrugged and rolled her eyes as if to say that she did not have time for this shit.

"she says ya killed her pa?" she replied, swinging her sword aimlessly around.

"oh he a criminal? let me guess? " Aramis started and turned Dominique around so he could analyse her. "gang?  organised crime. has to be, you are clearly not parisian. too muscly, not pale enough. if I killed your father, then it was for a good reason"

Dominique scowled, bawling her hands into a fist as her nails dug into her palms. her breath increased in a mix of anger and fear.

"what good reason do you have for killing the captain of the musketeers!" Dominique roared.

The outburst caused a wave of deep silence. Marie's eyes dropped, she dropped her rapier. Aramis let go of Dominique and fell onto his bed.

Marie ran to him, to hold him.

"Treville, he...can't" Aramis cried hyperventilating, "no..he..."

Marie grabbed his face, which was flooding with tears, "don't speak"

Dominique was now fighting a war, either this was rather well planned or Dominique had been tricked. But Dominique was smart, there was no fakery in those tears (it wasn’t a youtube apology video afterall). 

Dominique dropped down, kneeling at the bed looking up at the sobbing man.

"you didn't kill him?"

Aramis shook his head, "he was a father to me, a father to paris."

Dominique banged her fists against the floor, and started to scream.

"who the fuck killed him then!" she yelled and ran out of the housing unit.

Marie started to follow her.

"cessy?" Aramis piped up as she started to exit.

"yeah mon oncle?" She replied solemnly.

"keep her safe, it's the least we can do to honour his memory." He asked her, before lying back on the bed and staring at the ceiling.

"I think she can handle safety on her own." she whispered.

"she can fight I'll admit." Aramis touched an etching on the wall, "but her recklessness will be a burden on her life."

Marie nodded and left the unit. She watched the girl with dusty hair. The daughter of treville was wearing a red corset, a dark, blue dress that fell to her knees, and black knee high boots, she wore a red tricorn hat. Dominique cut angrily up an apple with one of her knives.

"I want to help you!" Marie called.

Dominique rolled her eyes and launched a knife into a pole that was rather close to Marie's head. 

"thank you. " Marie sighed, grumpily. "I said I want to help you, not burden you. so stop being a bitch."

Dominique twiddled the other knife in her hand, "excuse me?"

Marie pulled the knife out of the pole, "you are the one throwing the knife at me. besides my mother, my father, your father helped build this citadel, are you sure you want to honour his memory by throwing blades into its foundations, and insult my family legacy." Marie shouted, despite not caring for family legacy.

"so what do you suppose I do then?" Dominique threw the apple off the balcony. "I'm back to square one."

"not if you let me help you" Marie replied, she flipped the knife and handed it to Dominique, "I'll take you to lieutenant D'artagnan, he can help us."

Dominique let out a deep exhale, and took the knife.

"I didn't get your name" Dominique said.

"Marie-Cessette Du Vallon" Marie held out her hand.

"Dominique Treville." Dominique took it and they shook.

"now let's get you to D'artagnan" Marie said, "oh and pick up that apple, rotten food is how sickness spreads, you heathen."

Dominique was rather sure that was not going to be the last time she was called a heathen.

Now it's for Xan and I's story. We a lot funkier.

[spidercakes]

Here’s a fun college (Tony)/high school (Peter) Tony/Peter AU :)

*

Ned looks suspicious and he totally shouldn’t, Peter makes good life choices except that one time he drunk made out with Flash but that’s half on Flash and it was back to the regularly scheduled Flash being a dick afterwards anyway. So really, it wasn’t like that bad life choice panned out any it was just a weak moment. “Since when are you dating someone?” he asks. Liz and MJ lean forward in interest but probably for different reasons. Peter doesn’t think MJ’s interest in people in crisis is normal but what’s he know?

“Since the weekend,” he says, smiling a little. Tony kind of has a reputation so he didn’t really know what was going on, and he’s in MIT so there’s that to consider but they worked it out eventually. Its not like he couldn’t afford all his gifts to Peter so he hadn’t really thought much of them even if he secretly hoped it meant something. Tony had admitted to enjoying spoiling him anyway because he always looked so surprised about it.

Predictably Ned looks offended about this. “You ditched building the Death Star with me to go hang out with your boyfriend?” he asks.

Which like, kind of. “Ned, we can build the Death Star another day,” he says without adding that Tony was only in town for a couple days anyway. Ned’s around all the time, Peter prioritized.

“But I wanted to build it Saturday,” he says, upset.

“Ned, we will have like four three day weekends coming up,” he points out. “We can build it then. Or procrastinate on our chemistry reports and build it instead of doing school work,” he points out. They both know that’s what they’re going to do because they both hate writing lab reports so he shouldn’t look so wounded.

“So how come we’ve never met this guy?” MJ asks.

“And how come you haven’t given him a name?” Liz adds.

Because Tony’s not in New York most of the time and he’s not telling his friends he’s dating Tony Stark Ned would have a heart attack and Peter’s not ready to live a Ned free life yet. Or ever.

“’Cus he doesn’t exist,” someone new says and they all turn to see Flash leaning out of his chair at the table across from them.

“He does so Flash, stop eavesdropping,” Peter tells him.

“Yeah, Parker? Okay, then. What’s his name? George Glass?” he says, incredulous.

“No, Tony Stark,” Peter says, just as sarcastic even though its true. Why is it that Flash can never mind his own business?

Flash snorts, “oh my god, could you imagine? Seriously, he would not stoop that low,” Flash says, fully confident despite the fact that Peter knows he’s wrong. He can’t help the small laugh he lets out, which obviously confuses Flash but whatever. “So what’s the guy’s name?” Flash asks, raising an eyebrow.

“None of your business, Flash. Go back to failing English,” Peter tells him. Its Flash’s one weakness and he immediately looks flustered.

“I’m getting a seventy two!” he says, irritated.

“Dude, I’m getting an eighty five and I sleep through most of my classes how are you getting a grade that low?” Ned asks and he even manages to pull off looking serious about it too. Peter knows he doesn’t sleep through English, he really likes the classics and always knows more than the rest of the class but Flash isn’t in his class so he doesn’t know that. He also knows Ned’s grade is higher than that.

Flash makes an irritated noise, “shut up, Leeds. Your best friend sucks.”

Liz frowns, “you’re off your game today, Flash. And Peter’s boyfriend is none of your business,” she adds, but more gently because she’s a nice person.

“He’s my business, what’s his name?” MJ asks, looking more interested than she normally is in this stuff. She claims being overly obsessed with who is sleeping with who is a distraction from real world issues. Peter thinks he can care about both because that time Liz and Flash almost dated threw him for a loop. But Liz’s dad scared him off pretty much the same way he had with Peter except Peter stuck around long enough to Liz to call her dad a dick and a misogynist for trying to control her dating life like she can’t make her own decisions. But in her dad’s defense they didn’t end up being compatible permanently even if Liz was also right. Now Peter’s pretty sure she’s dating MJ but neither have admitted to it.

“Why does everyone want to know so bad?” he asks.

“Because you ditched me for him,” Ned says.

“I just want to know,” MJ tells him.

“I’m kind of worried about you,” Liz says.

“Because he’s obviously fake,” Flash adds.

Peter rolls his eyes. “Oh my god he’s not fake,” he mumbles.

*

Tony laughs, “they think I’m fake?” he asks and Peter, on the other end of the video call, sighs.

“I didn’t even mean to make you sound fake but now they all think I made you up because I admitted to Ned that I like Star Trek better than Star Wars and that’s why they all think I skipped out on building the Death Star with him,” he says, dismayed.

Peter is adorable, far too pure for his own good but without the usual naiveté that comes with it. One of Tony’s favorite traits, actually. “I hope you know that’s hilarious. Rhodey thinks you’re made up because you sound too nice.” He is, Tony thinks, but he’d rather someone be too polite than act like ‘asshole’ is a replacement for a personality.

“I’m not too nice!” Peter says like he doesn’t probably help old ladies cross the street or something equally stereotypical of nice people.

“Are too. Its not a bad thing,” Tony tells him.

“I can be mean,” Peter says. Tony’s pretty sure if he was he’d immediately cry afterwards because Peter isn’t at all mean by nature.

“Uh huh, I’m sure you’re a vicious creature,” he says, grinning.

“I am vicious when I want to be,” Peter says, apparently unaware that he looks like a human chihuahua.

“I totally believe that,” Tony says, having a hard time hiding his laughter.

Peter looks offended. “You should be more supportive,” he says and Tony can’t help it, he bursts out laughing.

*

Flash looks bored. “So you’re dating a guy in college? That’s what you’re going with, Parker?”

Tony is in college he’s not even lying about that! “Why is that so hard to believe?” That’s not even a weird thing, lots of people are in college.

“Uh huh, what’s he studying?” Liz asks, amused.

He’s not making this up, why do they think he is? “Engineering,” he says, not feeling like getting specific.

“Did the lab fumes go to his head?” Flash asks, snickering at his own attempt at a joke.

Ned throws a soy sauce packet at him. “Don’t be rude. The lab fumes obviously went to Peter’s head. Don’t look at me like that dude, like how old is this guy even?”

“Eighteen, Ned. Traitor,” he mumbles under his breath.

“Oh, so he’s doing a Bachelors degree,” MJ says, trying to put a time line together or something.

“PhD actually, he’s super smart,” Peter says.

Flash snorts, “oh he’s dating a genius!” he says, disbelief obvious and Peter can’t even say anything because he doesn’t blame Flash for that one. He’d probably think he was making that up too.

“That would be a stupid lie,” he mumbles because it is. Why would he lie about something that sounds so fake that’s dumb.

His phone buzzes and MJ leaps for it. “Ha! Proof of the boyfriend. His name is Tony,” she says, passing the phone off to Liz with no regard to Peter’s privacy he guesses.

Liz scrolls through the messages and Peter swears to god- “Oh, okay. I didn’t need to see that,” she says, a red tinge coming to her cheeks and Peter turns bright red.

“Stop reading my phone!” he says, embarrassed. Flash snatches it next, looking at the screen and his eyebrows fly up.

“Jesus Christ Parker, you kiss your aunt May with that mouth? Go to church,” he says as Ned snatches the phone.

“Oh ew, sexting,” he says, wrinkling his nose before he deposits it back in Peter’s lap.

“No one needed to see that,” he mumbles.

“Well, at least we know he exists even if we all have to live with... that forever,” Flash says, looking disproportionately haunted by this.

Peter is the one who should be haunted all his friends read at least two rather intimate messages to Tony and he’d say that’s what they get for invading his privacy but also he didn’t want anyone to see those. They fall into awkward silence for a few moments.

“I hope you all know I hate you,” he tells them.

*

Tony thinks its funny that Peter’s friends think he’s fake. Or did, until they got into his phone and Peter’s cheeks had turned a shade of red Tony didn’t know humans were capable of turning. He can take a guess as to what they found and Peter might be embarrassed but he’s always been pretty shameless so he doesn’t really care. So now they believe he exists even if they seem to have maintained that Peter is lying about everything else and he doesn’t think these people know Peter well. He’s basically incapable of lying unless its by omission.

So he figures he’ll have a little fun and someone is bound to find out about their relationship and leak it to the press anyway so Peter’s friends might as well find out first. The good news is that bypassing high school seems to have been a good thing because Tony thinks this whole set up is hideous and he hates it but its a necessary evil. Peter, surprisingly, is not difficult to locate standing next to a group of people who are giving him incredulous looks.

Tony grins as he walks over, smiling wider when Peter spots him and looks relieved. “Thank god, can you tell them you built a semi-autonomous AI because they don’t believe me,” he says, gesturing presumably to his friends.

“Yeah, I did do that. Pissed my PhD supervisor right off because he told me it was impossible so I guess he can kiss my ass,” he says, grinning.

Peter looks pleased with himself before that turns to something akin to surprise as he realizes normally Tony isn’t around to confirm his stories. Tony decides to bypass the questions by reaching out fo Peter, hooking an arm around his waist as he pulls him in for a kiss. Its soft and slow, the way Peter likes it and he melts into it easily. He wraps his arms around Tony’s neck, tangling a hand in his hair and Tony’s got plans for him later but for now he figures maybe he should get back to Peter’s friends probably staring at them. So he nips at Peter’s bottom lip and pulls away, earning an upset noise from him for doing so.

He smiles at Peter and gives him another soft, chaste kiss before he turns to his friends. “Do you guys believe him now?” he asks, raising an eyebrow.

“You’re dating Tony Stark?!” the one with the mathletes jacket asks, voice going shrill at the end of that statement.

Peter shrugs, arms still around Tony’s neck. “I told you that forever ago, Flash you just didn’t listen.”

The one with the curly hair turns to her companion. “You owe me twenty bucks, Liz. I was right.”

Liz, presumably, looks at her like she’s nuts. “You said you were only sixty seven precent sure!”

“Well now I’m one hundred percent sure,” she says.

“Okay, I forgive you for ditching building the Death Star with me I would have ditched you too,” Ned, Tony assumes, says.

Peter’s cheeks are a little red, unused to the attention he’s getting, but he also looks happy and that’s what Tony was going for.

[heartofsnark]

NSFW Alphabet: Soryu

Note: I’m not gonna lie, a part of me didn’t want to post the rest of these because of the little anon hate I got. But, I spent hours upon hours writing theses for the KBTBB guys and getting so far along with doing it for the characters from another fandom. So, I’m not gonna let it just rot on my computer because people are assholes.  I’m still thinking about posting the rest today as well or spacing it out.  Also, I’m sorry that I tend to see Soryu a bit more...vanilla than the rest of the guys. I mean he’s definitely not boring or anything, but I see him as more of a soft little sweetheart. Also, that’s a weird way to view a 6ft gun toting mob boss, but here we are. 

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

He’s a pillow talk kind of guy. There’s just something so comforting and normal about cuddling MC and chatting. He’ll run his fingers absently against their skin, talking about their day or anything really. When he starts to notice them getting sleepy, or he starts to feel it himself, he’ll ask if they want to shower or just sleep. He likes those little moments, it just feels so perfect and relaxing to him.

B = Body part (Their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

He likes his arms, his muscles in general are something he’s proud of. He’s in good shape and is strong enough to protect his MC. Before he got with her, he didn’t think much of it, staying in shape was just a necessity for being a mobster. But, now he can’t help but think about how he can help them with his strength, even if it’s just carrying things for her. Or carrying her when she’s tired. A close second fave would probably be his hair, he spend enough time on it after all.  

If asked in person, he’d probably try to say something more romantic or dodge the question entirely.  But, to be completely honest, he really likes breasts. They feel great to touch and play with. He loves how much softer MC is than him, he likes feeling them press against him when they hug. He feels a sense of comfort when he nuzzles his face into them.

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically… I’m a disgusting person)

He likes cumming on his MC’s tits, he likes tit fucks. It’s a little dirty, but it feels so good. He does like creampies, but he’s a little more reluctant for them. He wasn’t raised in a traditional family, and he never really saw himself having a family. He’s not confident he’d make a good father, so he’s not always willing to take that risk. He’s more likely to pull out and see his partner covered in his cum, or if they don’t want to deal with any mess he’ll use a condom.

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Injuries are pretty par for the course for a mobster, so he’s use to just shrugging off whatever happens to him. Tend to them quickly and then move on with his day. After one particularly bad fight, he was a beaten up pretty bad. But, he told MC not to worry and after patching him up, things got romantic. The issue is, he lost more blood than he realized. So when what blood he did have went to his dick, he got light headed and fainted on top of MC during the middle of sex.  She was really worried, but he came too (as in regained consciousness) after a bit and assured her he just needed to rest. They babied him for the rest of the night, he felt pretty humiliated.

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

One. He has had one experience prior to MC. He has canonically lost his virginity in a life or death situation, god only knows what that means. But, that is the extent of his experience. He never really liked women before and was kind of a misogynist. Plus, he’s always been more preoccupied with his work than romance. He’s thankfully a bit of a natural when he gets together with MC and making them feel good is important to him.

F = Favourite Position (This goes without saying. Will probably include a visual)

Poor sweet not use to relationships Soryu. While he, like most people, is completely open to different and new positions, he’s a missionary kind of guy. He prefers being on top and making it feel extremely intimate. It’s just his favorite; being as close as possible. Plus, he kinda likes the normalcy of it. Given his life up until getting with his partner, he just really likes appreciating the simpler and normal aspects of being with someone.

Missionary: http://sexpositions.club/positions/67.html

Iris: http://sexpositions.club/positions/91.html

Eagle: http://sexpositions.club/positions/163.html

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc)

He’s a serious man, he hasn’t exactly indulged  in sex a lot. Sex is something that requires trust and makes you vulnerable, both physically and emotionally. So, he wants it be an incredible romantic experience for his partner. He knows damn well he’s not incredibly experienced and he’s already blown away that his partner love him. So, if something does happen that’s kind of stupid or silly and his partner laughs, he’ll feel a bit inadequate and embarrassed. But, with a little coaxing from his partner, he can accept that silly things happen during sex and it’s not a reflection on his abilities. Then he’ll probably manage to smile and laugh at those moments himself.

H = Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)

Same dark blue-black as his hair. His body hair in general tends to grown in thick, but he keeps it trimmed and a bit neat. It sometimes grows out a bit more before he can get to trimming it down, but generally he prefers a neat appearance.

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…)

Despite what an outsider might assume, Soryu is a softie when it comes to MC. He’s a romantic, he and his partner have agreed to be honest with each other; for him a part of that honesty is making sure they know they’re loved. And that include verbally. What a sweetie.

J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)

Nope. Self-control is very important as far as Soryu is concerned. Before he got with his partner, he never really bothered to even think about sex all that much. He definitely would get urges every now and then, but he’d just distract himself with some sort of work. Now, that he’s with his partner, he’d rather wait until they can be together. The only situation in which is really masturbates is if his partner is involved in some way.

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

Uniforms/Roleplay is one he really likes. He specifically likes them both being in costumes playing out scenarios and when he can wear a uniform of some sort; just give him an excuse to wear a police uniform, please. 

Slight Exhibitionism Kink, this one has formed practically out of necessity. Between the bidders and the Ice Dragons, Inui specifically, having time alone with his partner seems to be a rarity. So, sometimes even when other people are out of the room but just around the corner, he’ll want to love on his partner a bit. 

Slight Feeding Kink, his partner’s food (specifically their omelets) has become really special to him. That plus there’s something just so nice and domestic about feeding each other.

L = Location (Favourite places to do the do)

Bedroom is his go to favorite, he’s happy with the simpler domestic aspects of a relationship, given how he never thought he’d be able to enjoy them. Another close favorite would be the kitchen. He doesn’t know how to do anything else in there. When he’s feeling playful, he likes sneaking up behind a cooking MC and seeing if he can get some loving. Only time their omelettes burn, he’ll still eat them happily though.

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

Seeing his MC in cheongsams, please. He loves the way his partner looks in them and it becomes very hard for him to resist playing with them. 

Strip teases, MC strip teasing for him is a major turn on. It’s simple, but he likes seeing them try so hard to seduce him, even if they really don’t have to. They’ve already got him in the palm of their hand. 

Being teased/edged, he does like seeing his partner take some control and the frustration of being toyed with is more than worth it. It drives him crazy.

N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Pretty basic hard limits; nothing physically dangerous, no heavy kinks, no super gross ones. No; choking, sounding, needles, gunplay, knife play, bloodplay, CBT, electric play, or anything with shit or piss

O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)

He likes giving his partner oral best, though he definitely loves getting head too. He doesn’t have a lot of experience in giving head, but he makes up for it in genuinely liking to do it and enthusiasm. His partner’s pleasure means a lot to him and he wants them to feel good.

P = Pace (Are they fats and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

He generally prefers a slower more sensual pace, but sometimes, especially when he’s been pent up, he can’t help but get rougher. He usually feels bad and is extra loving after those sessions.

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

Proper sex is his favorite, but he definitely indulges in quickies. His slight exhibitionist streak is usually reserved for just make out sessions. But, desperate times call for desperate measures and he’ll drag his partner away to have sex. Provided they can evade Inui and the bidders.

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

He likes a few risks, making out and groping his partner when people are just in the other room. Some Ice Dragons, Inui, have walked in on them getting a little carried away. Kissing and playing around in his office isn’t unheard of either. He likes trying new things, though he can be a little sheepish about bringing it up. He’s always quick to let his partner know that they can say no and there is no obligation to do anything.

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)

He’s very good at self-control and can last a really long time, he can probably stop himself from cumming when he wants it to last longer. He can cum once or twice before he needs a break.

T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

He definitely doesn’t own any toys before he gets with MC. Once they’re together it kind of depends on her. He’ll definitely be interested in using toys on his MC, but he wouldn’t bother to buy any until he knows his partner is interested as well. He’d also be cool with his partner using some toys on him.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Not a huge tease (At least compared to the other bidders), but he gets his playful moods and moments where he likes to get his partner worked up for fun. He does get some fun out of when he has to end a makeout/groping sessions and his partner looks so dazed/frustrated. Or when he makes them wait to cum and they get desperate. Honestly, on a normal scale he’d be seen as more of a tease, but the bidders set a new standard in this area. 

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)

Definitely a grunter. He’s not super vocal, might say fuck when he cums, or gasp, but that’s about it. He’s not a super loud guy in general and if he does make a louder noise, he’s kind of embarrassed.

W = Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice)

Now that he has MC after so long of never caring about relationships, he’s a little touch starved. Just small casual touches mean a lot to him; holding hands, putting his hand on their hip, or brushing their hair back. Despite all of his self-control, it’s incredibly easy for his partner to turn him on. When he’s really pent up even small innocent touches send tingles down his spine.

X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words)

Soryu is a big guy and everything is proportional. He’s around 8.5-9 inches and decent thickness. A few noticeable and sensitive veins run along it. Curves just a bit to the right. MC definitely needs foreplay and prep work to be able to fully take him

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

Moderate to high. Before he was with MC he really didn’t think he had much of a sex drive at all. But, now that they’re together he gets turned on so easily that they have sex fairly often. Though he is capable of controlling himself, usually...

Z = ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

It takes a while for him to fall asleep in general. Given his life, being relaxed and comfortable enough to fall asleep takes a while. He likes pillow talk and spending time with his partner awake. Once his partner falls asleep, he’ll spend a bit of time stroking their hair and still cuddling them before he lets himself fall asleep.

[sunshineandfangs]

Impassioned Hearts

Summary: Caroline never would have thought that the condescending asshat would end up being a man she could never regret knowing.

For the Klaroline Sweet Swap Exchange

Caroline flashed a brilliant smile.

“Thank you! Take a complimentary cookie.” She deposited a wax paper wrapped cookie in the guy’s hand as she continued, “I look forward to seeing you at our annual 5k!” A parting flutter of her lashes and a strategic bearing of a hint of cleavage sent the guy off in a bit of a daze.

Sweets and a pretty girl truly went a long way in college.

“-hot and sweaty for charity. Maybe get the chance to flash those…abs, hm?”

She tuned out the sarcastic and far less enthusiastic drawls of her best friend Kat with a mental note to have words with her later. That girl’s Manolo Blahniks were in for a cruel, painful demise if this is what she considered helping. Caroline let out a small huff before whirling to face the next student to cross her path.

She blinked, a little taken aback by the attractive features of her next mark. Blond curls, blue eyes, a fine jawline sporting just the right amount of scruff, and raspberry red lips. Unconsciously, she licked her own. Now, this was a man she wouldn’t mind flirting with. A slight shake of her head got her back in the game. Focus, she chided herself.

“Hello,” she chirped, “we’re holding our annual-”

“Sorry, sweetheart, not interested.” The British accent was a surprise and quite charming, the words? Not so much. She caught the quick once over he gave her. She was a little impressed that his eyes only lingered on her legs and breasts for a moment before returning her gaze. “Besides aren’t you a little old to be selling girl scout cookies?”

Okay. Respect gone. Now, she was pissed. And she could do without the snide condescension too, Asshat.

Caroline jabbed a pink manicured nail in his direction.

“Alright, first of all, I’m not selling girl scout cookies. As I was saying, before you so rudely interrupted, this is our annual 5k awareness run for breast cancer. We partner with the Breast Cancer Research Foundation and schedule our event a few weeks before theirs to keep participants active.”

She watched surprised wash across his face, lips parting as if he were going to interrupt a second time , and she plowed right over him. Her volume raised a fraction higher, her gestures packed a bit more vehemence.

“Secondly, that you would mistake simple sugar cookies for the deliciousness of Samoas or Thin Mints is the very height of ignorance, and frankly a sin. I feel sorry for you.”

Taking a few steps closer to actually jab her nail into his chest, her eyes dark with anger and disgust, she concluded her tirade.

“And finally, yes, I was a girl scout and an achiever of the national gold award. Thank you very much . I founded this organization and we may be small, but I’m proud to say that 100% of our proceeds go to funding breast cancer research or supporting struggling patients and their families by helping pay for treatment, groceries, rent, utilities, medications, and transportation. In five years, we’ve raised over $875,000 so you can take your narrow-minded, misogynistic, asinine assumptions and shove them up your ass.”

Her last words came out as a hiss and she kept her glaring eyes boring into his.

A moment passed, and she washed the expression from her face. He wasn't worth the energy of feeling angry. Caroline gave his chest a pat and offered up a sickly, sweet smile.

“You have a lovely day now.”

She went to pivot on her heel intending to strut away with a perfectly executed dramatic hair flip, some of her normal demeanor returning, but a hand on her shoulder halted her mid-whirl (which, rude ). It didn’t attempt to restrain her and as soon as she stopped turning away it retreated.

Caroline eyed him with impatient disdain, not willing to soften a few degrees even in the face of his regretful expression. Seeing he had her attention a pair of dimples emerged and he offered her a tiny but genuine apologetic smile. There was a surprising amount of shame in his eyes, which was the only reason she heard him out.

“Wait, love, that was poorly done of me. How can I acquit myself?”

Skeptical, but not one to lose an opportunity, she slapped a small pile of flyers against his chest. He let out a quiet omph at the unexpected motion and managed to catch the papers before they fell.

“I’ll see you at the 5k with at least,” she drew a vague air circle around the papers awkwardly held to his chest, “that many others. Then we’ll talk, but right now I have no time to chat.”

This time she successfully completed her dramatic whirl without interruption.

“Stagger the placement of those water tables. This is a 5k people, not your grandmother's competitive walking class!”

Caroline would never have guessed this was their 6th 5k event with how incompetent everyone was! God, did she have to do everything herself?!

Although she did have to give Dimpled- Maybe -Not-Completely-An-Asshat some credit. Begrudgingly. He had shown up about an hour ago, a few minutes early even, and managed to bring as many volunteers as she had demanded.

Most of her temporary staff had returned home, leaving only the most dedicated to help with clean up. It was a bit vexing, but that feeling was overruled by a deep sense of pride and accomplishment. This year’s 5k had been the most successful one yet, raising an unexpectedly high sum of $326,575, almost a third of their previous total earnings combined! Caroline couldn’t contain a little joyful shimmy as she flitted around.

Her good mood took a hit when she was interrupted by an unexpected voice.

“So love, how am I doing?” Surprised he was still here, and flustered to have been caught so unguarded, she spun to face him.

She crossed her arms and pasted a slight scowl on her face, prepared with a sharp-tongued retort. When she actually got a look at him though, while her stance didn’t outwardly soften, she couldn’t fully maintain her negativity. She could clearly see he had put legitimate effort in, which mattered far more to her than his initial poor attitude and seemingly empty promises. Not only was he still here, but she could see the glisten of sweat on his body. He hadn't just stood around and looked pretty, hoping to impress her by fulfilling the bare minimum of her request.

Still, it wouldn’t due to be too easy on him.

“You were…perfect, which is so beyond annoying!”

He just smirked at her, “Apologies, love, am I making it hard for you to maintain your facade of displeasure?”

Scoffing, she returned, “Don’t get me wrong, I am grateful for your help, but it doesn’t erase your horrid first impression.”

“Take a chance then, and get to know me. I dare you.”

Well, she never could resist a dare. And he had provided a lot of help, when she assumed he wouldn't have shown up at all.

As it turned out, he could be a decent conversation partner. It didn’t hurt that while they bantered, he continued to assist in the clean up too.

…And she may have ended up with his number in her phone.

Rain beat down relentlessly, falling so quickly and in such volume that a veritable wall of water appeared before her. She had an umbrella of course - she was always prepared - but her car was still a fair distance away. Between the wind and the sheer amount of water, it wouldn’t be enough.

Letting out a groan, she muttered an irritated, “Seriously?”

It wasn’t that she was in a rush. For the first time in a while, her schedule was clear, but that was precisely the point! Her last class had just let out, and the normal evening discussion was canceled. There were no club meetings today and it was her first free Friday in several weeks.

Stuck under a minuscule awning was not how she intended to spend it. While she could make a run for it, she also had no desire to pour herself, clad in clothes of varying degrees of soaked, damp, and moist, into her car. Everyone else had already taken shelter or was rushing past, willing to endure the rain. Even trying for the next building over would get her soaked.

She couldn’t even go inside to wait it out either. When she had left the sky had only been a foreboding purple-gray, and it didn’t start to rain until about halfway to the parking garage. Even then, it had only been a normal drizzle. When the downpour had truly started she had just managed to make it under the shelter of the awning. Unfortunately, the doors it was in front of locked from the inside. She had tried knocking, but it wasn’t a building that saw a lot of regular foot traffic and no one had answered.

Ruminating some more in her disgruntled thoughts, she didn’t see the blur that came charging through the rain. Just as she contemplated the merits of calling an uber to take her a few blocks to her car and whether she could make that distance without ruining her clothes with water, she finally noticed said blur when it half collided with her! She barely avoiding being tossed into the downpour.

Furious, she whirled around, prepared to eviscerate whatever moron plowed into her. “Hey! Could you try for more coordination than a drunken- Klaus?!”

And it was Klaus. She hadn’t seen him since they lightly flirted at the end of the 5k. Sure, they’d exchanged a few texts, but he didn’t seem to share any of her classes so nothing more had come of it. She wasn't even fully sure if she wanted anything to either.

So, his sudden reappearance was startling to say the least, especially as he was soaking wet and hunched over a jacket bundle cradled to his chest.

“Klaus, what the hell?”

Looking up he seemed just as surprised to see her, though he quickly recovered. “Caroline,” he smirked as he straightened, dripping all over the tiny, formerly dry, spot.

She raised an unimpressed eyebrow.

His expression turned a little sheepish. “I apologize for barreling into you, love.” He shifted his arms a little as if offering their contents for inspection. “Our final portfolios need to include multiple mediums including photography. I hadn’t exactly planned for the sudden rain to attempt to fry some very expensive equipment.”

Caroline just grumbled.

“Okay, whatever, Klaus. Just don’t drip all over me.”

“Of course not, sweetheart.”

She could hear the tinge of amusement in his voice and she sent a glare in his direction. It didn’t subdue him at all. Instead, lips quirked in a half-smirk, he just continued on. Turning to set his bundle down, he peeled away the jacket to reveal a mildly damp equipment bag. He shook some of the water off the coat, corners of his lips twitching as he pointedly turned away from her.

Caroline just huffed.

…Although she had to admit she was curious.

“So, you’re an artist?”

Klaus glanced up from where he had crouched to check over his things. He nodded, almost seeming shy as his eyes flicked away before meeting her gaze again.

“I prefer traditional mediums myself. Oils, pencil, charcoal.” He gave a slight shrug. “Photography is fine, I suppose, but it’s impersonal. Lacks the intimacy of a brush or pencil in your hand. The complete command of the piece.”

Caroline blinked, not really expecting that answer. Although she wasn’t sure what she had been expecting.

“Could I see some of your work? I mean, if you’re comfortable with that. I know some artists don’t really like showcasing their art. I mean except for the pieces that they do. Obviously. Like in galleries.” Caroline’s mouth snapped shut with a click, embarrassed by her awkward word vomit. (Seriously, what was that!? God, you’re not fourteen anymore, Caroline. Get it together!)

She was thankful when Klaus didn’t comment on it, though she could see the way he pursed his lips to suppress laughter. He turned away as he caught her stare, shoulders giving a suspicious little quiver, and rummaged around in one of his bag’s side compartments, withdrawing a leather-bound book. Composure regained, he faced her again and passed it over.

“My sketchbook,” he said nodding to it, “you can flip through it, if you like.”

Her fingers skimmed over the plain cover, and began to thumb through each of the drawings. They were stunning. Not that she thought he would be a poor artist, but even her untrained eye could appreciate his skill. Every piece contained an astonishing amount of detail and she lingered on each drawing for several silent moments.

Sunlight through the branches of an oak tree.

A hunting wolf.

A hummingbird.

Several portraits of people she didn’t recognize. A blonde teenage girl. A blonde woman. Two different dark haired men, and a third who appeared younger, around her age.

She continued to flip through, finding more and more images, each as stunning as the last.

And then she found one of her own face. Taken aback she glanced between Klaus’ apprehensive face and the drawing. It was her, looking fierce and determined, and maybe a little angry.

He rubbed the back of his neck, a nervous gesture, but his eyes looked earnest as she peered into them.

“You made quite the impression, love.”

"When did you even do this?" She wasn't offended by the drawing, quite the opposite. It was flattering to see such a striking version of her committed to paper.

"Not long after you chewed me out about your 5k actually. I found myself quite inspired."

She refused to apologize for that outburst.

"You deserved it," she bit her lip, "but I am glad I gave you a second chance. You're not entirely terrible."

Klaus just chuckled, "Well, would you consider allowing this not entirely terrible person to take you out sometime?"

She had to admit that was pretty smooth.

After considering her free weekend, she asked, "Are you free Sunday?"

“Starbucks? Really, sweetheart?” Klaus groaned.

“Yes, really,” Caroline drawled, not giving an inch and refusing to feel ashamed of the things she enjoyed. “You asked me on a date and said I could choose where.”

“This wasn’t quite what I had in mind,” he groused under his breath.

“What was that? You can’t wait to have some Starbucks? Great, me too!” She grabbed his arm and marched them toward the already forming line. A smirk painted itself across her face when she heard him release another groan, but capitulate, his arm only giving one half-hearted tug.

Caroline offered a perky smile to the barista.

“One grande salted caramel mocha, please.”

She turned to look at Klaus, catching him mid-grimace. He hurriedly smoothed his expression, eyes scanning over the menu.

“Uh, a dark roast coffee.”

“Would you like that as a short, tall, grande, or venti, sir?”

Klaus' brow furrowed in mild confusion.

“Tall?” He finally settled on, a hint of questioning still in his voice.

“Together or separate?” The girl asked, glancing between the two of them.

“Together,” Caroline chimed, pulling out her credit card. Catching the look of protest on Klaus’ face she muttered to him, “I picked the location kinda figuring it wouldn’t be your thing, so I’ll pay.”

He visibly hesitated, whispering back, “My mother would kill me…”

Caroline just lightly snorted.

“Well, she’s not here. And it is the twenty-first century, women can pay the bill if they want to.” Klaus still looked mulish about it. “If it really bothers you that much, you can pay for the next one, okay?”

Perking up, Klaus whispered back, “Next one?”

She rolled her eyes, finally handing her card over to the amused, but impatient barista.

“If you’re lucky.”

“If I could have your names?” The barista interjected.

“Klaus.”

“Caroline.”

“Okay,” she paused, entering the information, “They’ll call you when it’s ready. Have a nice day!”

Accepting her card back with a thanks and a smile, the two wandered away to find a table.

“Now, what was this about the next one?”

“Keep this up buddy, and the best you’ll get is a movie where I can put three seat between us.”

Klaus held his hands up in surrender, an amused expression back on his face.

“‘Claude’ and ‘Karen’?”

His face contorted with disbelief.

Caroline waved it off, “Part of the experience. I’m like 99% sure they have a competition for who can get it the most wrong without making it unrecognizable.”

“I can understand ‘Klaus,’ but ‘Caroline’?”

She just laughed. A moment later she nearly snorted her drink out her nose when Klaus took a sip of his own. The expression he made was priceless.

“Bloody Americans. How do you drink this swill?”

She shook her own drink in reply.

“Well, I don’t. I come here for the caffeine and this delicious caramel goodness, not the "pure" coffee.”

Klaus raised a skeptical eyebrow.

“You can’t be telling me that tastes better?”

"That is precisely what I am telling you," she retorted. After a moment, she reluctantly tilted her cup toward him, an invitation to try it.

Equally reluctant, Klaus reached over to accept the cup and take a sip. His face didn't immediately contort as it did for the coffee, but he didn't exactly look pleased either.

"I suppose it’s better. Certainly different…"

Caroline huffed, snatching her drink back and briefly cradling the cup to her chest before taking a healthy sip of her own.

"I suppose your snobby, British self is going to espouse the greatness of tea, now?" She asked after swallowing her sip.

"That goes without saying, love."

Caroline rolled her eyes.

"We are not going to Starbucks again."

Caroline just giggled in response to his vehement refusal.

Their next date was indeed not at Starbucks.

Caroline, are you busy, love? -Klaus

no class just ended -Caroline

y? - Caroline

Would you like to have lunch with me? - Klaus

My treat. - Klaus

k - Caroline

Where? - Caroline

Parm? - Klaus

yeah i could go for sandwiches - Caroline

The two arrived within a few minutes of one another, quickly managing to order and settle at one of the tables by the front window.

"You know," Caroline started, having finished a bite of her Chicken Parmesan hero, "considering how snobby you were about Starbucks I almost expected some upscale restaurant."

"I considered it," he admitted, "but somehow I got the impression it wouldn't impress you. That's really more to 'Lijah's taste anyway. My brother," he clarified at Caroline's questioning look.

She shrugged.

"Only child."

Klaus snorted.

"You're lucky."

Her eyebrows raised.

"Is he really so awful?"

Klaus gave a bark of laughter.

"Elijah? No, he's just a buzzkill, that one. It's the rest of the madhouse that is my family, love, I have five siblings."

"Jeez, five?!" Caroline cried, incredulous. Was birth control not a thing? Thankfully, her brain to mouth filter was working, for once, and her thought remained silent.

Klaus nodded. "Freya, Finn, Elijah, Kol, and Rebekah."

"Wait," Caroline asked, a thought popping into her head, "were they all the other portraits in your sketchbook?"

"Not just a pretty face." He was Impressed and flattered that she had paid enough attention to his drawings to remember that. "Freya's the eldest. She's married to her wife, Keelin." Klaus stressed the word wife, leveling a challenging look in her direction.

She met his stare evenly.

"I don't have a problem with the LGBTQ+ community, Klaus. It'd be pretty hypocritical considering how much shit my hometown gave me when my dad skipped out on my mom with his boyfriend."

"Oh?"

She waved off his curiosity, not quite having meant to blurt that much out. (Thanks filter!) "I mean I'm over it now. Mostly. I understand how hard it must have been for him, I really do. I just wish he had been less...I don’t know? Duplicitous about it, I guess."

Sensing it was still a touchy subject, despite her objection, Klaus just inclined his head in acknowledgement, picking up where he left off. She shot him a thankful look and took another bite of her sandwich.

"Then there's Finn. A complete bore. He's also married with two red-headed hellions for children. Elijah. Me. Kol. The most obnoxious pain in the arse. And lastly, Rebekah. She's a bit of a brat, if I'm honest." Despite his words, Klaus tone was a mix of exasperated and fond. Caroline smiled, warmed by his obvious regard for them.

They spent the rest of their lunch break casually chatting. Caroline was honestly surprised when she realized she had to run to her next class. Departing with promises to meet up again, a third date turned into a fourth, into a fifth, until she stopped keeping track altogether.

"So, Carebear, when were you planning on telling me you got a new boyfriend?"

"What? Kat! I don't have one."

"Pft, please, so I'm just imagining the gooey eyes you make at your phone these days."

" Gooey eyes ? I don't make gooey eyes."

Kat aimed a very skeptical look in her direction.

"…Okay, one I don't make gooey eyes of any sort. Two, I don't have a boyfriend. But," she ignored Kat's smug I knew it, "there is a guy I've been talking with lately. We had a few casual dates. That's all."

"You keep telling yourself that, Forbes, you keep telling yourself that."

Caroline's eyes were focused on her professor, but his voice was a wordless drone in her ear. Yes, the literary analysis of War and Peace was surely very important, but she couldn't seem to find an attention span at the moment. Thankfully, she wasn't actually missing anything. There were a few acquaintances who would be willing to share notes with her if she asked and she was also recording the lecture. She'd transcribe his words later if she had to.

She found her eyes drifting to her open laptop, a mostly blank notes page on one side and Amazon on the other. She had been doing some preliminary browsing for Christmas shopping, it was never too early to start after all. Her mom. Kat. Her father. His partner, Steven. And potentially Klaus. Drumming the pads of her fingers, she was brainstorming a few other ideas, when a notification caught her attention.

A text from Klaus? Although, she hadn't heard from him yet today, so it wasn't particularly unusual.

Hi, sweetheart. - Klaus

Hey - Caroline

You're technically interrupting my Fundamentals of Classic Literature course - Caroline

I'd apologize, love, but you don't seem to be paying it much attention. - Klaus

Yeah not really so what are you up to? - Caroline

Just thinking of you, love. - Klaus

God your lines are really awful sometimes it's a wonder you date anyone - Caroline

No need to insult yourself, sweetheart, I'm dating you aren't I? -Klaus

Caroline was a little startled by his seemingly casual use of the word "dating." I mean they were dating, but she hadn't been sure if they were dating yet. It felt like her heart gave a little flutter and she shook her head at the cliche of it all.

I suppose you are. Well didn't you get lucky? - Caroline

I know I did, Caroline. - Klaus

Caroline blushed, not expecting his genuine response when she was being so facetious.

But actually I did have something to ask you. - Klaus

She watched as the three typing dots appeared and disappeared, flickering up and down a few times, and wondered what his question was that left him out of sorts.

I was hoping you would be willing to model for me. - Klaus

Caroline quirked an eyebrow, not that he could see it.

I think it's a bit soon to draw me like one of your French girls, Jack. - Caroline

Oh, sweetheart, what a delightful image that is. - Klaus

But, unfortunately that's not what I meant. - Klaus

Well, unless you want to? - Klaus

lol nice try what did you want me to do? - Caroline

Caroline looked around curiously as she stepped into Klaus' apartment, shedding her coat as she moved. Shutting the door, Klaus maneuvered behind her to take her coat and hang it in the entryway closet.

"Thanks," she muttered still mostly focused on her surroundings. It was a nicer apartment than what she would expect from a grad student. As far from a studio as an apartment could be. From what she could see, the front hallway lead into a fairly wide living room, beyond which she could glimpse what looked like a fully functional and spacious kitchen

Noting her curiosity, Klaus offered her a brief tour, and the complex was even larger than she had thought. Klaus had the master bedroom with an attached bath. But there was a second guest room a few doors down, a hallway bathroom, a small office space, and even a partial loft upstairs that served as his studio.

Caroline absently wondering how he afforded all this as she wandered around his studio space, admiring the paintings and sketches scattered around the area.

Shaking her head to dislodge her thoughts, she turned to face him.

"Right, so how are we doing this?"

"Just sit here, love," he said as he maneuvered a chair into the center of the room.

"No special pose or anything?"

He shook his head.

"Whatever position is comfortable for you. My goal is to try to capture you as candidly as possible."

Caroline frowned.

"I don't know how natural I'll look when I know you're staring at me in order to paint me."

Klaus offered a thoughtful nod.

"I could get you something to read if you like? Or, knowing you, you'd like to get ahead on your work. Typing or writing won't cause enough movement to alter your position too much."

"I suppose that should work," Caroline uttered thoughtfully, strolling toward the stairs to fetch her laptop.

She honestly had intended to get a jump on her pesky Chem homework (stupid gen eds! And no, despite what some people thought, she was not a ditsy blonde. Chemistry wasn't a breeze, but it wasn't hard and she understood the material fine. She simply had zero interest in it.)

Unfortunately, Klaus painting her ended up being more of a distraction than she thought it would. And unlike she had half-expected, his gaze wasn't lustful at all, instead it was incredibly intense . She could almost feel it as a physical weight as it scanned across her body, absorbing the details of her features.

She hadn't really understood when Klaus had mentioned that drawing and painting felt intimate to him. Now, she did. Even though Caroline wasn't doing anything except sitting there, it felt as if she and Klaus were the only two people in the world. Every stroke of his brush, every shift of his eyes to her figure, felt like the creation of an inexplicable connection between the two of them, somehow blurring the edges of the division between them.

"I see you found a muse."

Klaus' pursed his lips, brush freezing an inch from the canvas. Very carefully, he lowered his hand. Not bothering to turn, he continued to stare at his half-formed painting, a burst of gold against a skyline, the beginning of a womanly silhouette. He spared a moment to be thankful that this was the only painting of her in sight.

"What nonsense has Lucien been feeding to you, Marcel?"

Klaus heard footsteps treading closer, until they came to a stop just behind him. A noise between a huff and a scoff sounded above his shoulder.

"Nonsense? I thought so too. Now, I'm not so sure."

Still refusing to turn and acknowledge his determined intruder, Klaus lifted his brush again and resumed making careful strokes.

Marcel chucked.

"Well, just a warning, I'm not the only one Lucien has been “feeding nonsense” to."

"Caroline Forbes?" A younger blonde inquired, head tilted in an oddly predatory fashion.

She looked familiar.

It took a moment, but Caroline made the connection. In her defense, with her blank expression and cold eyes, the other blonde was a far cry from the images of a beaming smile or radiant laughter.

She must have caught the flash of recognition in Caroline's eyes, for she continued before Caroline could reply.

"I suppose you're a step up from the normal bimbos my brother dated. But I really don't get what he sees in you. You're not that pretty. Nothing special." The girl flashed a nasty smirk in her direction, but her eyes were pure calculation.

Caroline just shook her head, startled but not offended.

"Look, Rebekah, right? I think it's kinda admirable that you're defending your brother so fiercely, but Klaus is a big boy and he can make his own decisions. But even though I'm not going to let you intimidate me into letting him go or something, I don't want to fight with you either."

Rebekah arched an eyebrow.

"Nice speech. Do you want to braid my hair and make friendship bracelets now?"

Caroline just sighed.

"You don't have to like me. I don't have to like you. As long as we understand each other: I'm not going anywhere unless your brother and I have a massive falling out. I don't abandon the people I care for."

"We'll see," Rebekah spoke somberly before strutting away. Not bothering with a goodbye of any kind.

"Well, that just happened," Caroline grumbled to herself.

"Nik! Just the brother I wanted to see."

Klaus barely refrained from pinching the bridge of his nose and groaning like he wanted to. Unfortunately, that would only give Kol more ammunition.

"What is it, Kol?" If there was a slight bite to his tone, well that was to be expected.

"Why a few little birdies have been telling me the most interesting of tales." A shit-eating grin on his face, Kol started dramatically counting off on his fingers. "First, there was Lucien. Then Marcel. I just managed to beat out Enzo to this little tête-à-tête. Why even our darling little sister had something to say."

The mention of Rebekah struck him. Had she actually spoken to Caroline? He couldn't help wondering, the beginning curls of concern coiling in his gut. But when he spoke his tone was nonchalant, Klaus refused to confess to anything.

"Oh? And what tales might these be?"

"That you found a tasty little thing, Nik."

Klaus gave an involuntary twitch.

"Ah," Kol chuckled. "Struck a nerve did I? You know-"

Knowing it was too late for damage control now, Klaus simply hissed, "Say another word and I'll tear out your liver."

His brother simply raised his eyebrows in interest even as he held his hands up in surrender.

"Alright, Nik. No need to get your knickers in a twist."

"So, mate," Enzo started, throwing an arm over his shoulders. Klaus' eyes fell shut in exasperation even as he shrugged the arm off. "What's this I've been hearing about a bird that caught your fancy?"

A knock sounded on the door. With one last fluff of her curls, Caroline walked over to pull the door open.

Klaus greeted her with a small smile, his eyes soft.

"You look breathtaking, Caroline."

She beamed at him taking in the fine cut of his suit, the deep blue of his dress shirt that perfectly accented his eyes.

"Not so bad yourself, handsome," she said peering at him from beneath her lashes, her grin turning a bit coy. Head cocking, she shifted gears. "So, you never did tell me where we were going though. You know I don't like surprises." Despite her words, she was more teasing and curious than actually annoyed.

"Well if I told you, love, then it wouldn't be a surprise," he said with a chuckle and eyebrow quirk.

Caroline pouted a bit.

"Exactly."

Klaus brushed his thumb against her lip, leaning in to give her a quick peck. He smiled as he pulled back.

"Nope, sorry, sweetheart."

He chucked at her disgruntled expression, leading her to the car.

Caroline stared slack jawed at their destination, running a nervous hand down the fabric of her cocktail dress. Suddenly, it didn't seem fancy enough.

"K-Klaus…how did you even…?"

Klaus took her nervously fluttering hand in his, rubbing his thumb across its back. Calming her nerves a little.

"Luck mainly."

"Oh my god. Oh my god." And the nerves came rushing back. Caroline whipped her head to face Klaus. "I can't let you pay for this Klaus!"

"Caroline, it's alright really."

"The cover charge is like $300 per person!" She whisper-shrieked, not sure how to handle this situation. A part of her was flattered, but it was also overwhelming. It didn't feel right, having Klaus drop so much money on one date.

"Sweetheart," he hesitated, taking in her mildly distraught features. "If it really makes you that uncomfortable, we don't have to go."

Her gut gave an uncomfortable twist at the hint of disappointment on his face, but it was the sincerity she read in his eyes that finally calmed her.

She took a breath, fortifying herself. "No, that would be even worse. I know you wouldn't get the money back." She reached up to cup his cheek, feeling his stubble under the caress of her thumb. She offered a half-hearted smirk. "Don't think we won't be talking about this later though."

Klaus laughed softly, briefly holding her hand against his face before removing it to press a kiss to her knuckles.

"I wouldn't expect anything less from you, sweetheart."

Caroline continued to walk, Klaus by her side, her arm looped through his. It was very old-school gentlemen of him, a trait she had discovered Klaus occasionally exhibited. And when he did, he somehow managed to skirt the line between cheesy and patronizing. Who would have ever thought he could end up being sweet, after his disastrous first impression?

Smiling at her thoughts, Caroline tilted her head to regard the star of them.

"Thank you for this, Klaus, it was wonderful." A little bit of her good cheer faded as the rest of her thoughts resurfaced. She shifted, feeling uncomfortable once more with how expensive this date was. Klaus must have been attuned to her as he noticed almost instantly, gently tugging her to a halt. He guided them over to a stone bench where they could sit.

"You have questions." He didn't look at her for a moment, facing forward, forearms braced on his knees, fingers laced.

"I-I-," Caroline bit her lip, not wanting to seem ungrateful. She turned to face him resting a hand on the arm closest to her. "It's not that I don't appreciate the gesture. It was really sweet. But it was also really surprising. I mean we're students, by nature we're pretty much all broke. I just feel uncomfortable with that amount of money being spent on me. It's like I'm put in a position where I'm indebted to you, you know? Like I can't match this to repay you."

Klaus turned to face her, looking troubled by her words.

"No! That was never my intention, Caroline. You should never feel obligated to do anything for me. " He let out a breath, running the hand not in her grasp through his hair. "And the money is not a concern for me." Trailing off, he seemed to struggle with what he wanted to say next.

Caroline slid her hand down his arm to lace their fingers together, giving a gentle squeeze.

"Okay, I believe you."

Klaus turned to look at her, searching her eyes for something. He must have found what he was looking for, as he squeezed her hand back and continued.

"The man who raised me was very…stern. He tended to be harsh in his dealings with all his children, but none more so than me. I found out a few years ago it was because I wasn't his biological son." Klaus let out a bitter sounding chuckle. "And I found out because when my biological father died, he named me as the sole beneficiary to both his life insurance policy and his will. His way of apologizing apparently."

Caroline didn't say anything for a moment, only leaned over to rest her weight again Klaus' side, sensing he might recoil from the hug she wanted to envelope him in.

"I can't imagine what it was like having a father who's present, but doesn't love you enough. Mine at least did it from a distance. It hurt, watching him run off with someone else over my mom. Dote on his partner's family like it was his own. Casting us aside with ease. But we reconciled eventually. I'm sorry you never got that chance with either of your fathers."

Klaus just exhaled a shaky breath.

"Well, I'm not. …But I'm glad that one of them gave me the means to do things like this for you." He turned to look at her again, gently brushing a curl behind her ear. "The way your face lit up, when you finally relaxed. That , Caroline, was worth far more than the money I spent."

Caroline couldn't control the rush of blood that flooded her cheeks, still not used to Klaus' occasional moments of earnest intensity. She smiled.

"Okay," she said softly, before giving him a gentle poke in the chest, "but the next date is on me."

"Small town pageant winner. All around busy body. Almost certainly a teacher's pet. I really don't get you with my brother."

Caroline heaved a sigh, not quite ready to turn and face Klaus' sister for the second time. Not to mention that recitation of facts was a tad creepy. Sure, it probably wouldn't be that hard to Google, but still…Taking one last quick moment for herself, Caroline whirled around, smile pasted on her face.

"Rebekah, always a delight."

Rebekah just crossed her arms, expression deadpan, body language screaming how unimpressed she was. Not one to let that phase her, Caroline simply continued on.

"So, what brings you here today? I thought we settled the whole I'm dating your brother thing."

"That was before he took you to Eleven Madison Park."

Caroline conceded that could easily be a red flag. Purposefully relaxing her stance, she took a few steps to seat herself at the nearby bench.

"I doubt you'll take my word for it, but I didn't ask him to do that."

Rebekah didn't sit, satisfied in her ability to now literally stare down her foe.

"Funnily enough he said the same when I confronted him about it." Narrowing her eyes, Rebekah delivered a parting warning, "I don't know what you have on my brother, but I intend to find out. And when I do, I will ruin you."

That was a bit unnerving, even considering the fact that Caroline didn't have anything on Klaus.

When Rebekah returned home she received an ambush of her own.

"Enzo told me something rather interesting today."

Rebekah froze, instantly wary. Her brother's tone was cool and scarily collected. He wasn't facing her either, and she could see the stiffness of his muscles, even though his hands were crossed behind his back in a gesture of faux-casualness. She bit her lip, confessing was her only choice. Clearly, he already knew.

Lifting her chin in a show of false confidence, Rebekah stepped farther into her apartment, letting the door close behind her.

"I just wanted to get to know this Caroline you're dating, brother. Is that so wrong?"

Klaus turned around and stalked over to her.

"If you were anyone else, no, but I know you, little sister. Now, I'm only going to tell you this once. Whatever little plots you've concocted in your head to scare her away. Don't."

The look he leveled at her was utterly serious, not breaking eye contact with her once.

Rebekah was stunned, her eyes scanning his, looking for even a hint of uncertainty.

She found none.

"You're serious," she whispered.

For the third time, Caroline found her day disturbed by a blonde-haired she-devil.

"Get in loser, we're going shopping."

Wait, what? Was she quoting Mean Girls at her? What?

"Excuse me?" Caroline blurted, not bothering to hide her shocked confusion.

Rebekah tossed her hair, flicking a switch to unlock the car doors.

"It turns out that Nik is actually serious about you."

Caroline just crossed her arms, confusion melting into annoyance.

"That doesn't explain why you're here, doing this."

"If you're going to be dating my brother, I need to know you."

Unimpressed, Caroline arched an eyebrow.

"I'm busy, Rebekah. My life doesn't revolve around your whims."

Muttering surely unflattering things under her breath, the girl reached for her cellphone, flicking it on an navigating to the app she wanted.

"Put your number in."

Hesitating for a moment, Caroline wondered if it was wise to concede to a different demand. After a moment, Caroline shook her head.

"Ask your brother for it."

Rebekah's eyes narrowed, although she thought she may have caught a hint of respect in their icy depths.

"Fine," Rebekah finally bit out, tone tart.

Caroline's phone buzzed. Pulling it revealed a single curt message.

When are you free? - Unknown

It wasn't hard to suspect who this new unknown number belonged to. Three guesses and the first two don't count.

...Who is this? - Caroline

Rebekah - Unknown

When are you free? - Rebekah

Even if she had only encountered Rebekah thrice now, Caroline knew that the girl was beyond persistent. Pondering her options, she finally settled on dealing with this as soon as possible.

Tmrw after 3 - Caroline

Excellent. I will be waiting by the library. - Rebekah

Don't be late. - Rebekah

Caroline forced herself to sit in a semi-relaxed position. It wasn't a complete success, she could feel the tension in her back, but it was a good approximation as she leaned her shoulder against the car door, thumb scrolling through her Instagram.

The two blondes sat in awkward silence, Rebekah half-glaring through the windshield, and Caroline in no mood to break the ice first. She certainly wasn't going to make this situation easy on the other blonde. Besides, if she opened her mouth she would either awkwardly babble or verbally eviscerate the other girl, neither of which would make this terrible experience better.

It was Rebekah that finally bit the bullet.

"So, how did you even meet my brother?"

Caroline felt her lip twitch, their first encounter now filling her with fond amusement.

"I didn't like him much at all originally. He was kinda an ass." Out of the corner of her eye, Caroline saw Rebekah hide a tiny smirk, obviously familiar with her brother's more asshole-ish tendencies. "But I managed to rope him into helping with my charity event, and well..." Caroline trailed off with a little shrug. "He grew on me."

"Yes," Rebekah conceded with a wry tone, "Nik does tend to be a persistent bugger."

Caroline nodded with a tiny airy laugh as that surely ran in the family, but soon after the car returned to its previous awkward silence. Thankfully, they reached their destination soon after. Smoothly turning into a parking garage, Rebekah led the way to a clothing store across the street.

Judging by the storefront, it appeared to be a fairly high end boutique, which had Caroline biting her lip in concern. A quick glance at one of the tags confirmed her fear, she barely kept her eyes from widening at the multi-hundred dollar shirt.

"Rebekah," she hissed, "I don't know what kind of money you think I'm making as an undergrad , but I cannot afford to shop here."

With a derisive snort and a pointed eyeing of her appearance, Rebekah waved her off.

"That's blatantly obvious. Which is why," Rebekah fished a card from her wallet, "you're going to be shopping on my brother's dime."

Caroline's mouth fell open before she could stop it.

"Excuse me? Weren't you the one that implied I was a gold-digger. Even if that were true, which it's not," she emphasized with a glare, "I would definitely be smart enough not to prove it right in front of you."

"Well, this is actually with Nik's approval." Catching Caroline's look of disbelief, Rebekah added, "Call him if you don't believe me."

Pivoting on her heel to do just that, Caroline shouldered the door open, not wanting to start what was bound to be an argument in the quiet and small upscale store.

Holding her ringing phone to her ear, she tapped her foot in agitation.

"Hello, Caroline." His normal half-flirtatious, half-affectionate greeting didn't calm her this time.

"Don't 'Hello, Caroline' me!"

Ignoring her indignant tone Klaus continued, "I gather you're shopping with Rebekah?"

"Well, I am out with Rebekah and at a clothing store, but I'm hardly shopping . Look, I won't spend several hundred dollars on a single clothing item let alone buy several. And I'm definitely not doing it with your money."

When Klaus next spoke she could hear his mild exasperation.

"Trust me, Caroline, I know how my sister can be a trial at times. She's also stubborn as all us Mikaelson's are. So she won't budge on where you go to shop. Just take my card, love, you don't have to purchase anything."

"Klaus," Caroline groaned, "this is ridiculous."

"Please, just indulge her. Sometimes she'll surprise you."

Caroline rubbed her forehead, already feeling exhausted. After a few moments of silence, she capitulated, as she did want to know Klaus' sister, at least a little.

"The things I do for you," she grumbled. Not in the mood to chat, she quickly hung up the phone after a parting, goodbye. She stalked back into the store, shoving her phone into her purse as she went.

It was going to be a long day.

As it turned out, the Mikaelson's life motto was clearly "be stubborn and shock the hell out of your opponents". Or at least that's what it's been in Caroline's experience, as this was the second time one succeeded in changing her initial opinion. Klaus was much more suave about it, but Rebekah's about face was a legitimate shock.

The start to their trip was awkward to say the least, but their snipes turned into banter by the end, the underlying nastiness dissipated. It probably helped that even with her brother's verbal approval, Caroline only ended up buying one day dress. The way the other blonde's eyes widened for a split second was rather telling.

"I had a good time today, Rebekah." Caroline's voice held a tinge of surprise and amusement. With a playful smirk she added, "Your brother did warn me that you could be surprising."

Rebekah smirked back.

"And you're not awful, Forbes. Nik could certainly stand to do worse." That was the equivalent of high praise all things considered. Also, Caroline may have gotten a slight kick out of the irony of being on the receiving end of a "maybe you're not terrible" comment.

Caroline groaned as she tried to smother herself with her own pillow. Unfortunately, it did nothing for the noises coming from the next room.

Thuds and creaking springs intermixed with moans and growls and shrieking. If she didn’t know better she would think someone was being murdered. Frankly, since it was Kat, maybe someone really was being murdered.

As if to punctuate her thought, another particularly loud bang shook the wall. That’s it! She thought launching herself out of bed. Grabbing the first bra she could find and wiggling into it as she jammed flip flops onto her feet, Caroline dashed for the exit.

In the past, she had made the mistake of trying to confront Kat and got to see far more of her friend and her sexual kinks than she ever wanted. Now knowing better, Caroline simply grabbed her keys and bolted.

THUD THUD THUD

Klaus grumbled wondering who was bothering him at, he glanced at the clock, 12:47 AM. It's not like he was sleeping, but he certainly didn't wish to receive any guests or even talk to anyone at the moment. He contemplated ignoring whoever his nighttime visitor was, but the thuds on his door kept coming.

Irritated and fully intending to give his disturber the full brunt of it, he threw open his door.

And froze.

Annoyance melting away, a smile curled across his lips. “Hello, Caroline.”

Even in her rumpled ensemble, hair in a messy bun, face bare of makeup, clothed only in an old cheer-camp t-shirt and pajama shorts, Klaus thought she looked beautiful. He enjoyed the moments when he got to see her with most of her barriers down, relaxed and comfortable in his presence.

Caroline looked a bit sheepish, "Sorry for just showing up like this. I should have at least texted, before pounding on your door."

Knowing a ramble was on its way, he gently interjected. "You know you're always welcome here, sweetheart. Although I do wonder what brought you over in such a hurry."

As he spoke he stepped back, ushering her through the door, a guiding hand on her back.

Upon hearing his question, Caroline released an exasperated groan, throwing her hands up in disgust as she shifted to avoid hitting him.

"Kat sexiled me. Or rather, I sexiled myself when I started to fear death by falling wall decoration."

Sympathetic and more glad than ever that he lived alone, Klaus just nodded with a grimace.

"Drink?" He inquired, half-turning toward the kitchen.

Caroline shrugged.

"Just water is fine."

Familiar with his apartment, Caroline followed behind him and settled on the love seat in his living room. She reached for the remote to queue up Netflix, thanking Klaus for the glass of water when he returned and settled beside her.

"Any preference?" She asked, aimlessly scrolling through the listings.

Klaus shook his head with a muttered no, easily settling into the space beside her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders to tug her towards him. She shifted easily, relaxing against him.

The two didn't speak much, simply enjoying the others company. Klaus had no idea what Caroline even put on, too busy gazing at her. His hand fiddled with her curls, occasionally brushing the skin of her neck. Meanwhile, Caroline wasn't paying it any attention either, starting to doze off into an easy slumber. The warmth of Klaus' touch, his scent around her, the sounds of his heart and breathing all easily lulled her to sleep.

Caroline shifted with a grumpy groan as light shone onto her face. Groping around for a pillow, she clumsily dragged it over her face. Letting out a happy sigh, she resettled about to slip back into sleep, until a quiet masculine chuckle reached her ears.

Wait…masculine?

Flinging the pillow aside she quickly remembered where she was as her gaze landed on Klaus' face. His expression an interesting blend of amusement and sheepishness.

"You can go back to sleep, sweetheart," he uttered, tone soft and fond, "I didn't mean to disturb you."

Glancing over at the clock, Caroline let out a sigh.

"It's already 8:30, I might as well get up."

Flipping to her side, Caroline stretched before rolling her way out of bed. With a soft thud of her feet on the carpet, she finally stood, ruffling her sleep flattened curls and slowly starting to make her way toward the kitchen.

Klaus took a moment to admire her lovely arse before following.

"What do you want for breakfast, sweetheart?" He asked when he caught up to her. Caroline had already reached her destination and was rummaging through the cupboards and fridge.

"Hmm, I know what you're trying to do," she taunted playfully, not bothering to look up from what she was doing.

Klaus leaned back against the marble counter, still content to watch her flitting about.

"Oh? And what's that?"

Caroline finally emerged, arms laden with eggs, milk, and some vegetables.

"You're trying to pull the cliched boyfriend cooks breakfast/breakfast in bed routine. And normally I'd let you, but seeing how I did barge in last night..." She trailed off with a little hand gesture, pivoting to retrieve oil and spices. When she turned back around she sent him a questioning gaze. "So, I'm feeling omelettes. Do you want something else?"

Pushing off the counter, Klaus walked over to fetch the pan and other utensils.

"Omelettes work for me, love."

In the end, the two ended up sharing their self-imposed breakfast making duty. They easily managed to maneuver around each other like a well choreographed dance, splitting the task of making some delicious omelettes.

Forks scrapped against plates as the two sat to eat the fruits of their labor.

Swallowing a bite of egg, Klaus started to speak, tone casual.

"Despite the ah, unfortunate circumstances, it's quite convenient timing that you came to me." Standing Klaus turned to fish something out of a coffee mug sitting in the corner. "Seeing as I had this made for you a few days ago." Klaus smirked at her surprised face, hoping his nerves weren't obvious. He returned to his seat and extended his hand as he added, "do feel free to use this the next time dear Katerina chases you from your flat."

Caroline's eyes shifted from the gleaming silver key in his hands to his face and back again. Her mouth opened and closed wordlessly for a moment, before she finally shoved down some of her shock. She reached out her own hand to take it from him, barely catching his quiet sigh of relief. Stroking her thumb across its teeth, she felt the slight imprint of his warmth on the metal. With a small but potent grin, filled to bursting with affection, Caroline slipped the key onto her key ring.

"Thank you, Klaus," she said softly.

Clearing his throat, Klaus appeared a bit awkward, but his eyes were as soft as his voice.

"Like I said, you're always welcome here, Caroline."

Caroline barged through the front door exhausted and cranky, dropping her keys in the decoupage plate on the entryway table. Her bag fell with a thump not too long after, the sound harsh with the weight of her textbooks.

Klaus appeared from the hallway not long after, drawn by the amount of noise she was making. He took in the picture of his ruffled girlfriend, currently in the processes of kicking off her ankle boots. Padding over, he reached his hands up to message her temples, her forehead falling onto his shoulder as she relaxed into him with a groan. She gave a little hum of pleasure as he kept his hands moving, shifting from her temple toward her scalp.

"Come on, love," he murmured, guiding her over to his couch, where he settled down, easily pulling her with him. Caroline continued to just lie there for a few more moments, Klaus' hands now rubbing her back.

"Bad day?" He inquired.

With a huff, she finally raised her head, arms braced on his chest. Her expression still had a trace of disgruntlement, and she glared at a dangling strand of hair in face, harshly blowing it out of the way before speaking.

Words poured out in a flood.

"Finals suck! And yeah, it's totally my own fault for taking 22 credits, but I really wanted to knock out the last of my gen eds. And several of my major requisite courses are only offered in the spring, which is so annoying. God, can't people properly schedule their course catalogs! Like you would think that the administration would know by now the most common combinations of classes and not make their exams overlap so horribly! It's not rocket science!"

Klaus let her ramble, sympathetic as he recalled some of his own nightmarish finals' weeks.

She pouted at him.

"I hate you, you don't get tests."

He gave her a half-smirk.

"No, one of the perks of being an art grad student. Still, we have portfolios and critiques so it's not quite a walk in the park, sweetheart."

She just grumbled at him.

Despite her earlier complaining, finals week eventually passed, and Caroline had a feeling she had maintained her 4.0 for the third year in a row, something she was immensely proud of. The celebratory sex to give the year a proper send off didn't hurt either of course.

Klaus traced patterns on the bare skin of Caroline's shoulder. She hummed, eyes still closed.

"You know, I never told you why I was so dismissive of you when we first met."

Caroline's lashes fluttered in confusion as she opened them and twisted to look over at Klaus.

"It hardly matters now…?"

Klaus made a noncommittal noise. Now concerned, Caroline rolled onto her left side to fully face her boyfriend.

"What brought this up, Nik?"

His hand, having been dislodged by her turn, moved to fiddle with her hair instead, staring at it intently.

"I never told you about my youngest brother, Rebekah's twin, not Kol."

Caroline stayed quiet, knowing he just needed her to listen.

"His name was Henrik. By far the kindest of us, if I didn't know better I would think that he was the one with a different father." Klaus released a bitter laugh, and shook his head. "He was 10 when leukemia took him from us, just a boy."

Caroline took in a sharp breath. Klaus finally looked into her eyes, his own appearing grief stricken. Nearly a decade later and it still hurt. She reached for the hand still tangled in her hair, interlinking their fingers and giving it a comforting squeeze.

"The anniversary of his death… I'm always more of an asshat, as you would say, on that day." His lips quirked in an expression of self-mocking. "And then," he untangled their hands reaching over with both of his to cup her face. His thumbs stroked over her cheeks reverently. "And then, I got my arse handed to me by a fiery, blonde Valkyrie. For the first time, I could feel something other than grief or resentment on that day."

Heart aching with empathy, Caroline slid forward curling herself around Klaus, trying to hug as much of him as she could. She felt him reciprocate, his arms clutching her back, head buried in her hair.

Unprompted, Caroline muttered her own confession against the skin of Klaus' shoulder.

"My mom developed cancer when I was starting high school. She barely managed to beat it, but even now I still fear that it will come out of remission. It's part of why I was angry with you that day."

Her confession surprised him as his did her. She could tell by the way he stiffened for a moment.

But he recovered quickly, pulling back to look at her face, arms still holding her tightly to him.

"Thank you, for giving me the chance to get to know you." He swallowed nervously, Adam's apple bobbing. "To love you," he finished, a note of awe in his tone.

Caroline's heart pounded warm and fluttering, her mind not even attempting to chide her for the feeling.

"Thank you, Nik, for challenging me to see that you were worth loving."

Extra: Operation Manolo Mischief

“Mason, what are you doing here?”

Operation Distraction was a go. While Kat grilled their guest over his sudden appearance, Caroline used the opportunity to slip into Kat’s bedroom. The door swung open soundlessly and she made sure to avoid the one squeaky floorboard to the right of the entryway.

She inched her way toward the closet.

“No, really why are you here? We don’t do serious, Mason.” The voices were moving closer and Caroline let out an inaudible hiss as she crouched in the shadows, cursing Mason in her head as she did so. She specifically told him to steer Katherine away from the bedrooms.

Soon the voices faded back toward the living room, and Caroline continued her quest. The back wall of the closet was lined with tall shoe racks completely filled with expensive heels. Finding the correct pair, she eased them out of their compartment.

With silent footfalls, Caroline retraced her steps. She took a quick peek out, seeing the coast was clear, she raced for her own room where she hid the shoes in a box and buried them among tomorrow’s 5k supplies.

With a mental pat on the back for a job well done, she decided to rescue Mason.

…In a few minutes, proper punishment for his near failure.

“Kat you are going to be helpful tomorrow, and do it with a smile. 100% effort.”

“Sure, sure, Carebear.”

“I’m serious, Kat. I don’t make idle threats.”

When the brunette discovered the glaringly missing pair of shoes her expression was deadly. A nervous sweat collected on Caroline’s back, but she just raised her chin with a challenging expression.

A tense moment passed before Katherine cocked her head, looking almost impressed.

“…Well played, Forbes, well played.”

Extra: The Other Side

Klaus slipped away into the shadows, keeping an eye out for the woman who brought him here. He didn't want her to know what he was about to do, not because he felt ashamed, but because he didn't want her to get the wrong idea. It wasn't meant as a slight or a bribe or anything of the sort.

Leaning against a tree, purposefully casual, Klaus pulled out his phone. Using one of the QR codes printed on all the informational flyers, he navigated the web page until he found the link for additional donations.

Without hesitation he typed in "For Henrik," inputted the number of his checking account, but left the rest of the donor information blank. Cursor blinking in the "Amount" box he contemplated how much would be appropriate. The amount he wanted to give would raise even more flags than the number he finally settled on.

$100,000.

Submit.

[survivormetaverse]

Episode 12 - "i'm baaaaaacckkkkk 😈" ~Jodi

An iconic moment happened today and I accidentally voted my closest ally out of the game. So Brayden got sent home and he is going to hate me when he finds out what happened. I did kind of get him out on accident I did not mean for Brayden to go I wanted Jay gone but I was blindsided by Colin and Josh and Elle AND AMY!!??]£[_[3 Omg. Im really upset that hes gone i miss him so much and I dont know how Im gonna go on without his brain. I dont trust Jay but Jared and Jay were both messaging me about how they already forgive me and stuff so thats a little crazy. I think it could be fake or they are just desperate for numbers. But I am with Josh and Amy and Colin and Elle now. I want to be with their numbers. I talked to all of them individually and they said they all were sorry for lying to me and causing me to get my friend out. I know its just a game but I just feel awful and so guilty right now. This has probably been the worst day of my life. He probably will never play another org with me again and hes the only reason i play orgs its boring without him. We are best friends increal life and I hope he can forgive me. I havent said anything to him because thats breaking the rules. But when he finds out im literally so scared of what he'll say to me. I pray he will forgive me I am literally so dumb af.

i'm baaaaaacckkkkk..................... 😈

This is literally worst case right now with jodi winning the play back like throughout the day she has won back her allies including anastasia since she swapped coins with her. Elle, colin, and josh all gave me all their coins to grab immunity before the other side to protect me but also it makes me a bigger target lol plus I gave elle some swapped to get the second thing the leftover because I THOUGHT it could give us an extra vote since that was ony menu but I was tired and drunk and it was a LOT of words and it was just the hunts which I knew didn't have any and I feel terrible bc 150 tokens and my actual alliance is going to be so mad when they realize THAT I HAVE THE LAST ONES and fucked up in suggesting it at all. First they were going for info. So now I think Jodi got all the other sides tokens and they are pooling for something idek. It's literally worst case like we were set to be up 5-2 or at least 4-3 and now it looks like it's 4-4 again hahaha neat. And it looks like colin is chatting with jodi again and they are making deals lol like tbh if she gets to the end I am voting for her to win I've said it many rounds. Turns out anastasia and brayden not only know each other irl they are besties so she mad mad. And Josh looks to be making deals and thinking about flipping so I am on borrowed time but tbh I never expected to make merge. I am glad I have immunity bc I physically couldn't do the challenge anywU here lol and I fucked that up too hahahaha. Good times all around. Like I want to tell them about my steal a vote to have official numbers but now they'd just be mad hahaha literally colin and I had every advantage except jared's idol now. Ahhhh idk what to do but it remains hilarious. I'm expecting Raffy to give my info in these in the market and that is no bueno ahahahaha. I am tempted to just give colin everything bc it's funny. Also jodi talked to me until 1am just trying to guilt me into being back with her I said I have to sleep goodnight like 5 times minimum. Her social game is so good that's why I think she has them all back with her and possibly josh. The problem is that I was keeping her close bc she had the info from others and from my game. I really never had a number one lol bc I was just vibing and I guess now colin is bc I flipped with him lol and I think it's hilarious he grew his army from 0 to 5 almost.

~

I have a suspicion colin and anastasia have actually been closely aligned this whole time and she knew everything all along. Colin sure loves giving out info haha. And apparently deals are happening all over, none of which I have made 😂

Jodi's backkkkk, wild wild wilddddd. The challenge went poorly, darn thats like 20 minutes wasted. We bought the refresh and there was nothing there 💔 that's 150 tokens wasted 😅. But! We got Amy immunity✨ and then Colin won the challenge so tbh everything's still going great lol. Wonder how we're gonna vote this round :/ we'll see how this goes! I've stopped worrying whether I'm going completely, it either happens or it doesn't 💖 xoxo, gossip girl (this is misleading I HAVE NOT SEEN THE SHOW i just know way too much about it because i have friends that did lol)

So after I voted my showmance Brayden out of the game I was left with an interesting situation. I had cried to Josh Colin and Amy that I was alone now and that my whole alliance hated me. With Jodi back in, I dont think they believe me. I literally flipped sides so I could be in their alliance because I didnt trust Jay and Jared and Jodi. But they literally lied to me about the vote and said it was nothing personal to me but they didnt tell me the plan because they wanted to see if I was lying. Which sucks for me because I then voted Brayden out :( Now that they know that im truthful they said they would work with me now. But all of them have been pretty inactive today. I talked to Amy the most and a little Colin and a little Josh. But I wasnt in their alliance. So I asked Amy if I could be added into an alliance chat since I was apperently in their alliance now. And she said sure. And they added me to a vote block. That is not an alliance group chat btw. So I was like wow thanks. But inside I was like screw this. So before this all happened, Jodi, Jay and Jared put me in a true alliance group chat. This morning I was ready to work with Colin and Josh but not anymore. Not after they put me in a vote block chat clearly saying to me that I am just a number to be used. They don't even need my vote either because Amy has an idol and Amy and Colin are safe. So I'm obviously voting with Jay, Jared, and Jodi. And I know they probably have a final three without me. They could call it something really cool like the three J's. But I called Jay and explained everything to him. (Also Jay forgave me for literally trying to get him out. He umderstands that its a game and all of my motives about not trusting him anymore.) He said he would be a hypocrite if he didnt forgive me because he told people my name in the chaos vote. So I actually think we are cool. And I told Jay that I am his number one. Which is true. He told me a lot of things about how Amy is actually really smart and stuff (I thought that girl was just a goat that I could take to the end with me) But her and colin are tight and both immune. This is bad. Basically we will go to rocks unless Elle flips to our side. Jay is giving his pitch to Elle tommarow. And maybe I will apologize to her correctly tomarow too. ALSO SPELLING THE WORD TOMARROW IS THE HARDEST THING IN MY LIFE. Also I took 62 minutes to complete a puzzle today so thats kind of emberassing. Anyways bye everyone this was so much fun to type omg.

Lol I woke up to a text from jodi asking if anyone was taking about votes yet and I said no because I went to sleep early bc I almost passed out from heat yesterday and had just woke up and she responded "ummmm lol...." 🤣🤣🤣 Sorry I sleep. She's in Colin's dms saying how I was legit her number one and now we can't even talk about votes. Like yeah girl we worked our asses off to get you out of the game sorry I'm not happy you are back. Also I'm still at disney world so I don't have the time for a million conversations. I know I'm going to be the Russell Hanz of the f3 /if/ I make it. So what's jury management lol like she was already pissed I voted her out and I plan to do it again. Anyway it looks like it's hilariously about to be a unanimous jay vote tonight but I am thinking we throw one vote somewhere else in case of an idol. But if jodi did get anastasia back we can't do that. Anyway lol I'm immune so whatever. Elle and Colin discussed like if it's on elle (which apparently jared proposed an alliance of 5 which included myself lol!) Then we could go to rocks and have only josh as a possibility and statistically he won't go if he is willing to go to rocks that it. All this to say I'm f7 and I want to keep my extra vote to f6 if possible so I can use the idol for fun at f5.

https://youtu.be/snpKevncc44

My quest has come to an end. I joined this game to be someone who could be there for Jodi. Jodi and I played survivor subrosa together and we both had rough experiences due to a player in the game who harassed jodi and tried to convince everyone I was misogynistic. As much as I love Survivor, I didn’t play this game to win. I played this game because Jodi told me she was playing it and I wanted to be her body guard. I wanted to be someone who could be there for her both as a number but also as an enforcer, anybody who ever dared to do anything to Jodi would’ve had to have dealt with me. Tonight, Amy and Colin have immunity, and either amy or josh or elle have an idol, so there’s no point in making any noise tonight and wasting Jared’s idol. None of those 4 trust me, and I doubt any of them like me. It is what it is, it’s best for Jodi, Jared, and Anastasia’s game to move forward without me, and it’s smart for Jared to keep his idol. Tonight, I will be voted out, and I am 100% at peace with it. 

Since Elle, Josh, Amy and Colin pooled their tokens for immunity and advantage refresh, it means all the advantages and disadvantages are on our side. Plan is to send Elle a disadvantage and let Colin know because honestly it’s not hard to find out anyways. Jay doesn’t mind getting booted at some point cuz he wants to stand for me on the jury, but I don’t want to boot him right now. Obviously they won’t boot Elle, so I’m going to see if Jared will propose Anastasia. The thing right now is me/Jay/Anastasia/Jared also know next round is invisible. So I want Jay or Anastasia to send Colin and Amy disadvantages because if they’re paranoid seeing me Jared/Jay/Anastasia have advantages and they have disadvantages, they might be paranoid enough to play all their idols. I also wanted to keep Jay for this round as it’d be unanimous and something everyone can settle on. Jared wanted to do me/Jared/Josh/Amy/Colin as an alliance but has concerns about the 3 of them being in top 5 in the majority snd also Colin having his ideal f3. I told him my plan has the best shot at flushing all idols and hopefully we can either get Josh to flip or at least have Amy/Colin vulnerable at 5/6. Last thing is Jared is worried he’d be blindsided this round. I told him my plan and I said even if he wanted to flush his idol this round, next round should be ok if we all vote out Jay and the rest of them flush idols. Good to be back in the game! I genuinely believe Colin wants me as a shield at least for this round, and if I can make it through, I have a game to play. 

Not everyone saying they only bought an advantage lol what about those other 70 tokens 👀👀👀 Like it must be jay unless someone is lying haha i am hoping people are just busy bc these answers I'm getting from Josh and Colin are concerning 😂 It looks like only elle and got disadvantages ☠️ I am really hoping not to be a target next round even though I know I will be haha. Next round is only 7 and I'd love to take out jodi and jared before they turn on me ☠️ especially since colin creeped on jodi's insta and it is possible they know each other from sports irl. And she was so concerned about all these pregame connections 😂 and here it was likely to deflect. Anyway I just swapped my position of having jodi do all the social work with having colin do all the social work knowing full well I'm not gonna get those end votes. I'm just trying to pull up my placement average now 😂. I hope everyone sees me as having no social game to take me to the end lol bc realistically I don't bc I don't care to put in that time this game. As I write from the pirates of the caribbean line 😂 So anyway if I'm not being lied to which I might be it looks like unanimous jay tonight but also I think the other group was talking split on jay like a 3-3-2 and I'm like wait the 2 wouldn't help. Elle are you okay with that? So I think they must have figured out I have stuff ☠️ I wonder what people REALLY bought haha okay bye

Jodi is back, not just Jodi Jodi, but player Jodi. Player Jodi thinks a LOT. When I was out, the entire time I was hoping somebody caught on that Amy flipped because they knew to put a stray vote on Colin to protect him from chaos idol, but they left Josh exposed. Why? Because Colin knew Amy was going to throw a vote on Josh. Also, Colin tied with me for closest ally and that set off an alarm too. Onto the next. So Colin won immunity, Amy bought immunity, but this could possibly be good because it means they are playing knowing they are not at risk themselves. Anastasia is voting with them this round, but she's actually working with us. She told us that the actual plan on that side is: "Jay, Jared, Jodi vote elle and Elle, Amy, Colin vote Jay and Josh and Anastasia vote Jodi" Anastasia will vote me here to continue "working" with them for the next vote. Essentially, they thought that Jay had the merge idol this whole time and Colin was weary about it, and that's why he got nervous about sending out Jay last round. That told me Colin did not have the merge idol. Josh came to me too about Jay having the merge idol. But the way they're splitting the votes this round shows me now that somebody has stepped forward to mention they have it (likely Elle) because if Jay idoled, Elle goes in this split vote plan. Therefore, somebody must've been like "ok let's just be safe and split the votes, I have the other idol". That's good and bad because now Colin has no merge idol paranoia, and they're also able to use it together. It also did confirm to me they've talked about it. Here's where things get tricky. Player Jodi is so tempted to run with it and do a 4-3-1 Josh-Jay-Jodi but it's so risky and could possibly destroy the long term social game, especially if they idol for Josh and Jay goes anyway (we are not idoling for him here). So instead, I'm going to use Jay's vote out to the best of my advantage. Hopefully flush an idol if possible, maybe a steal-a-vote, something. Knowing about next round being invisible is good info for us. Having this info is so key and usually I would think that immunity for a round is bigger than this but being able to plan ahead for a GAME-CHANGING twist is crucial here. My move here is to play the game through psychological distress. I have no advantages! Since they're out of tokens from buying immunity, me/Anastasia/Jared/Jay bought advantages for ourselves and also sent out disadvantages to Colin/Amy/Elle. Seeing that not only we have advantages but also them having disadvantages, they probably still feel like things will be ok because they'll just split votes or whatever and one of them needs to win immunity. But given this is an invisible round, I think Amy is honestly paranoid enough to just play her idol, hopefully Elle does too, and then between me and Jared, we'll idol for one of us. I also plan on bluffing an advantage coming back from Jury, and say something along the lines of having to survive one round before the advantage got activated. I'm going for the win, everyone, I know that if I get to the end with anybody, I have a solid shot at winning. I just need to get there and to do that, I must play an adaptable game – more than ever. PS I am holding onto Jared's idol right now. Power (temporary) feels amazing. Dw I'm giving it back....😈

this has been the most chill round in a while. which is really weird consider JODI IS BACK AND WE BLINDSIDED BRAYDEN LAST ROUND this round is turning out to be what I WANTED last round to be. everyone is talking with everyone, people are trying to disband the sides and all intermingle. it's really interesting how no one else was on board with this until after they lost majority. seems like people don't like playing from the bottom. weird huh now these bitches know how I felt >:( anyway. jodi is back. it's weird. she knows that amy flipped now and everyone is playing very carefully my ideal boot this round was either jay or josh, in that order. so when my gay ass WON IMMUNITY I immediately put out jay's name. we already have the numbers, but I also like said my piece to jodi and jared, this is yalls chance to prove to me that you're really with me and sides don't exist. the ball is in their court do i trust them? no. am I worried? no. i have immunity, the scariest thing rn is that I think Jay is voting Elle, and if Jared and Jodi are with him then that's scary, bc Jared has an idol. The ONLY people I would play my idol for is Amy and Elle, and Elle being in trouble means I might have to play my idol on her if Jay idols himself. We have enough to split, so I'm not worried, I just hope all goes according to plan. sorry my confessional is lame. its the weekend now so i have time uwu. I'll write more the next few days

So this whole token twist thing has really annoyed me. Because of me wanting to show my loyalty to my alliance, i gave away all my coins to Amy so that she could but immunity. And against my wishes, Elle wasted her coins on the “advantage” which turned out to be a dud. I wanted to get coins together to buy game info or better yet, trade coins with other people. But i was left with nothing, while all the people on the other side used their coins to buy advantages in the next immunity challenge making it even harder for me to secure my safety. Maybe this new 2 Gays and a Jared alliance might actually pan out but im tired of getting the short end of the stick with everything.

~~~

Edgic:

Power Rankings:

Anastasia: She is in the middle of the two sides. They both need her for the rest of this game before a side is terminated. She is the most powerful because she is in the middle.

Jodi: Has regained a lot of her footing in this game. Is being used as a shield by the people who voted her out. The decision to vote out Jay is questionable, but she still has a lot of power thanks to the knowledge Anastasia and Jared feed her.

Colin: The head of the opposing side. Seems to not know what is really going on with Anastasia. But his allies are willing to take him to the end which is good. Needs to avoid falling into a Jodi pitfall.

Amy: Her rat behavior has been exposed, but her allies are still willing to defend her. Second in command on the Colin side. She is being handed these immunities.

Jared: Jodi’s new #1. Will probably make it to the end of this game. However, he isn’t calling the shots and is in danger of being targeted as an “easy” vote or being called a goat at the end. Needs to start taking fate in his own hands.

Elle: Lost a lot of footing because of not telling Anastasia the truth. This move caused Anastasia to go back to Jodi’s side which will hurt in the coming round. Is the next target for the Jodi side.

Jay: Died on the sword for Jodi. I am confused why they didn’t just stack 4 votes somewhere else, but it is whatever. Has basically given up.

Josh: Left out of a lot of discussions. Is on the outside of his alliances and from the opposing side. Is the most in danger of getting targeted or being a casualty of an idol.

[the-desolated-quill]

The Doctor, The Widow, And The Wardrobe - Doctor Who blog

(SPOILER WARNING: The following is an in-depth critical analysis. If you haven’t seen this episode yet, you may want to before reading this review)

I actually went into this one cautiously optimistic for once. While there were a few problems with it, Moffat's adaptation of A Christmas Carol was pretty damn good overall and surprisingly touching at points. (See, I do say nice things about Moffat sometimes. So I don’t want anymore hate mail saying I’m just a Moffat hater. I’m not a Moffat hater. I just despise shit writing. It’s not my fault if most of what Moffat writes is shit, is it?). Granted I wasn’t too keen on the idea of Moffat adapting The Lion, The Witch And The Wardrobe. I’m not exactly a fan of CS Lewis (misogynistic prick), but I figured I’d give Moffat a chance. It might be really good.

Was it? Well... I suppose it’s not the worst thing he’s ever written.

Things don’t exactly go off to a promising start. Remember when the Doctor said it was time to step back into shadows? Go into hiding? Stop being so big and noisy? Well this episode opens with the Doctor blowing up a spaceship. So much for hiding. And don’t get me started on the Doctor falling to Earth and trying to put on a spacesuit whilst in the vacuum of space. I know the science in Doctor Who has always been incredibly dodgy, but this is taking the piss.

Anyway the Doctor is rescued by a woman called Madge and he vows to return the favour. Three years later, during World War 2 (yes again), Madge and her family get evacuated (to an empty house, which is unusual. Also Madge is evacuated with her children. Why I don’t know. Either she’s a lot younger than she looks or Moffat hasn’t picked up a history textbook in a while) and the Doctor returns to give them the best Christmas they’ve ever had.

Let’s quickly talk about the family. First there’s Madge, played by Claire Skinner. Not a particularly interesting character, but she seems likeable enough. I enjoyed her resourcefulness at the beginning with the lockpick and everything. I also liked her emotional dilemma. Trying to give her children a happy Christmas while at the same time handling her own grief toward her seemingly dead husband and attempting to put a brave face on it. Her husband is played by Alexander Armstrong, who gives a good enough performance with the small amount of material he’s been given, although it’s a bit hard to take him seriously as an RAF pilot considering that he played an RAF pilot in the comedy sketch show Armstrong & Miller. Every time he talked, I kept expecting him to start complaining about how he wasn’t allowed to wear his ‘well hardcore trousers with all the pockets and shit’. Their children are less effective however. Cyril is a gormless troublemaker played by a child actor who gives a performance more wooden than the trees. And finally there’s Lily, who... exists. She breathes in oxygen and breathes out carbon dioxide. That’s basically her main contribution to the story. (And don’t forget, trees absorb carbon dioxide and release oxygen, so Lily is in fact making a very important contribution indeed).

We then spend some time enjoying some wacky hijinks with the Doctor, including spinning armchairs, taps that dispense lemonade, a train set built into a Christmas tree, and hammocks. While I’ve never been very fond of Matt Smith’s Doctor, even I have to admit I found this amusing. I think it’s because of how humble it all is. The Doctor isn’t being weird just to show off how weird he’s being like he normally does. He genuinely wants make this family happy.

And then it’s off to Narnia.

At first things are pretty suspenseful. Christmas trees that grow their own baubles, mysterious footprints and a wooden building shaped like a giant Playstation Move (remember those?). But as things go along, you get the sense that the episode is treading water a bit. Let’s face it, there isn’t actually a plot here. Sure Moffat tries to shake things up with the wooden statues and Bill Bailey in a space marine outfit. He even name-drops Androzani in the hopes that it’ll get classic series fans like myself excited. But it does little to disguise the fact that we’re basically watching a bunch of people trudging through the snow for 45 minutes with not a lot actually happening. It’s a bit dull. In fact name-dropping Androzani might not have been the best idea because all it did was remind me I could be watching The Caves Of Androzani right now instead of this.

Bill Bailey is utterly wasted. Who casts a brilliant comedian like him as the comic foil? Whose stupid idea was that? It hurts especially because you just know if he was doing most of the jokes, he would knock it out of the park. instead it all feels really awkward and forced. The other two Androzani miners just aren’t very good. And more to the point, what are they all even doing there? They’re using acid rain to harvest the trees, but why do they need to be there on the ground? And why, other than for the sake of plot convenience, did they leave that mechanical walker behind?

It soon becomes clear this is supposed to be an environmentalist story. The souls of the trees wanting to escape from the destructive influence of man. A worthy cause I suppose, even if it is a bit old hat. It’s a pity it doesn’t really make sense. So their plan to escape is to just wait for a human woman to conveniently happen upon them? Bit weak, isn’t it?

And then of course Moffat’s trademark sexism comes creeping back in. When her children disappear, mild mannered Madge suddenly shifts to the Moffat default of a gun toting sass machine (where did she even get the gun from anyway?) because that’s the only way Moffat knows how to write women. Apart from anything else, it’s just boring by this point. She manages to incapacitate the Androzani miners with ease, she manages to operate the mechanical walker despite the fact it takes years of training to do so apparently, and she absorbs the souls of the entire forest. How is she able to do all of that? Because she’s a mum. Yes ladies, it’s your capacity to bear life that makes you strong.

Moffat thinks he’s a feminist. I think he has an extremely unhealthy and patronising obsession with the female reproductive system. Also he doesn’t seem to understand how relationships actually work (which is a bit worrying considering he’s married). Newsflash: A man following a woman home alone in the middle of a forest is not romantic or charming. it’s just fucking creepy.

Yeah, so anyway, after some convoluted bullshit that gets everyone back home and brings Madge’s husband miraculously back from the dead, the Doctor goes off to visit Amy. I was more than happy to see the back of her, so you can imagine my disappointment when she showed up at the end. (And with a water pistol to assault carol singers with. What a delightful person). The episode concludes with an oh so poetic tear trickling down the Doctor’s face while the audience simultaneously groans with embarrassment at such a cliched ending.

Like I said, The Doctor, The Widow, And The Wardrobe isn’t the worst Moffat story I’ve seen. It’s not outrageously bad or anything. It’s just not very good. Also, apart from the WW2 setting and the snowy forest, it doesn’t seem to have anything to do with The Lion, The Witch And The Wardrobe whatsoever. In my opinion, the biggest crime this episode commits is that it’s just really, really dull to sit through. My advice is to just watch A Christmas Carol again.