#but the idea of using Abed's skills at playing roles and him not really being accepted as himself until the team won out in the end

[sandalaris]

The Leverage!Community AU that I will probably never write and nobody asked for. 

Let’s go steal an AU.

Under the cut because it is long

Jeff Winger

Jeff was a damn good lawyer, with just the right amount of flexible morality that let him bend the law to his whim while not being the kind of a amoral asshole that people avoided (*cough*Alan*cough*). He took white collar civil cases, the kind where the defendant was greedy or lazy or just plain stupid, and the fatalities financial in nature, all designed to keeping Jeff in the expensive life he’d become accustomed to. He was on the fast track to make junior partner when out of nowhere evidence surfaced claiming Jeff falsified his credentials. He soon finds himself disbarred and blacklisted, without even getting a chance to plead his case. Determined to get back to his old life as quickly as possible, Jeff sets off to find the culprit and hires a crew to help him. It was only supposed to be one job, no encores. No repeats... well, maybe just one more.

Britta Perry

The only thing Britta loves more than her cats is a noble cause, but there’s only so much a person can do with a picket sign and a catchy chant. She refused to give up though, going out and fighting the good fight, until she discovered she could do more behind a computer screen than she ever could on the streets. A self-proclaimed hactivist, Britta fights for the underdog even as it lands her on government wanted lists. And if she’s entirely honest, she’s more than a little proud of make such lists. She has a hard drive with the copies of each of her arrest warrants, kept like badges of honor even as she goes through and deletes them from local systems. She doesn’t have time to spend the night in jail when there’s some many other, digital places she’s needed.

She only agreed to take the Winger job because she needed the money after a hack went wrong the Croatian government seized her bank accounts and then went the extra dick mile and sent her address to the feds. She just needs to lay low, do the job, and get paid (she’ll be fine, but her cat needs his eye drops). She has no plans to form a crew, not after last time. But someone’s gotta tell this group of miss-matched criminals what’s really going on in the world.

And then later, when the number of people they keep helping continues to grow, she realizes that maybe not all causes have to be large in scale to be worth fighting for.

Abed Nadir

Abed has always related to the world best through TV, defining the people around him by roles and tropes until they fell into place. For years he dreamed of being a writer and director, but making films aren’t cheap, and Abed learns very quickly that if he wants to follow his dream he needs more than the ideas in head. People aren’t going to just see his vision when he places it in front of them, they need to be convinced, persuaded, need to like the guy selling his stories, and people don’t always like Abed. He can pretend though, pluck a character from thin air, custom made to manipulate people into giving him what he wants, opening doors and wallets. It’s a great way to make a living, addictive and exhausting at the same time, and more than enough to keep him making small indie films in his spare time. He dons new names, new people, at every turn, drawing others to him like a moth to flame. Even if he doesn’t always understand the why of people, he at least gets the how, and that’s enough to get by.

He played witness to one of Jeff’s cases, needed the inside information for a script that never got off the ground. He slipped though, started talking about film and shows and forgot to be George Carmicheal from Long Island and became Abed Nadir, failed movie producer and college drop out. And the thing is, Jeff still liked him, maybe even liked him better as Abed than he did as George. Maybe that’s why he showed up at Jeff’s doorstep, uninvited and unannounced, after hearing about his disbarment. Maybe that’s why he volunteered his real name and didn’t pretend to smile or nod or do any of the things he knows he needs to do to make people like him. Even with the others showed up and he placed them in their likely roles, he didn’t don a mask. For the first time in a long time, he was just Abed, and that wasn’t just enough for them, it was preferred.

Annie Edison

Annie had a plan. Perfect grades leading to the perfect school leading to the perfect life. Her extracurricular were carefully selected, the exact balance of brainy and physical to appeal to the Ivy League schools the Edisions’ had their eye on, all mulled over and weighed to give her the best advantage. Annie was a junior in high school when she OD’d on the little “helper” pills her mom and dad had talked her doctor into prescribing her. Her parents refused to send her to rehab, citing the shame it would bring to their family and dismissing her claims of addiction as attention seeking behavior. She begged and pleaded and bargained and finally they caved on lessening her ridged schedule, making time for her to “destress” in between padding her college applications. Meditation didn’t work, but flipping grown men over her shoulder did and her self-defense class was augmented with MMA and kickboxing. And when the acceptance letters started pouring in Annie let out a sigh of relief, thinking it was over now that she reached the goal. She was wrong.

The pressure didn’t stop so Annie upped her training, which lead to her showing her dormmate a few moves, which lead to helping out a classmate with a stalker problem, which turned into a couple of private security gigs, which got her noticed by a man looking for someone to help retrieve some property that may not have been his, and he passed on her name to someone who offered a lot of money for... well, she’s not really at liberty to say. Annie likes being the best, likes the praise and the testing of her carefully honed skills. But the drive to be the very best at what she does led her to taking more and more questionable jobs and fewer and fewer classes, making up excuses about why she doesn’t come home anymore until she stops all together, and before she realizes it she’s got a very specific skill set and rather impressive, yet bloody, resume that only certain kinds of people would be interested in seeing and all those carefully laid plans from all those years ago have long been flushed down the drain.

Troy Barnes

Troy likes to drive, likes the escape of it and the way no one’s around to tell him what he’s doing wrong with his life or “real men" don’t do those things. Likes the thrill of going fast when night has fallen and the streets are bare of regular people, pitting himself against another person who’s like him, trying to outrun that gnawing pit in their stomach that’s constantly telling them they can’t cut it.

Troy’s not made for crime, not the real kind. Doesn’t think he’d make a very good criminal with his hidden soft heart and lack of long-term planning skills. But when Nana Barnes gets sick, driving is what puts food on table and covers the hospital bills. Its what gets him contacted by a down-on-his-luck lawyer looking a guy to provide a quick get away.

He’s not needed at every job in the beginning, but they make roles for him anyways and he finds his own ways to help. He’s always been good with his hands, mending the broken equipment around him and making improvements to his car beyond what the original designs intended. Passing the time creating small, playful gadgets that the others oo and ahh over. He likes to be useful, sewing FBI jackets and making the crew a meal after a long job, creating for Jeff his fake miracle and putting together an EMP spur of the moment when they realize they need one.

“You’re a regular renaissance man,” they tell him, and they don’t comment when he cries at meeting the clients or mentions how he always wanted to learn to dance, and Troy that it must be a good thing because he’s never felt so comfortable staying put before.

Shirley Bennet

Shirley is retired. She found the Lord and put her sinful past firmly behind her. She doesn’t even miss it. Really. Not one bit. No one would suspect that the sweet little housewife with a penchant for baking can crack a safe in under a minute or that she’s intimately familiar with the security systems employed by the most secure museums. People don’t know how her fingers itch in crowds for the fat wallets and shiny valuables that keep catching her eye, or see the frown of disapproval that crosses her face every time some half-brained car chase ends with the perp getting caught. She’s a good wife and mother, and doesn’t entertain such ideas anymore.

She met Jeffery once before, when he was trying to build a plausible alternate for the prosecution’s case and accidentally stumbled across what Shirley had thought was one of her better heists. She never did figure out how he put the pieces together so quickly and he never put her name on an official documents (she checked. Courthouses really should invest in better security), but after that they kept on eye on each other. And when he comes to her with a job offer, well, she tried to tell him she was out of the game, but that boy can just be so darn convincing when he wants to be and its not like its hurting anybody.

Pierce Hawthorne

Pierce has a lot of money, a lot of ex-wives, and next to zero friends. He’s fairly certain he doesn’t need them, after all he’s made it this long without any, no matter how many times Winger argues on the stand that his loneliness and maladjusted psyche due to a “traumatic childhood” are what causes him to make such poor decisions that lead to such expensive lawsuits. He still manages to get him a Not Guilty verdict or argues with him into settling out of court, and no matter how many times Winger swears this is the last time he’s going to defend him, he still answers when Pierce calls. So when Jeff says he needs money to pay a group of criminals to break into his old work building and find out who got him disbarred, Pierce offers without even stopping to think about it. Doesn’t even call it loan and just hands over the cash like he’s passing the salt.

Breaking the law isn’t cheap, apparently. Although the payouts make up for it most of the time. But the set up, the equipment and the materials, all those upfront costs that someone needs to front, are enough to make most people squirm and Pierce covers them without comment. They always pay him back anyways, and after a couple months, they’ve made enough that they don’t need him anymore. They still invite him though, to the meetings and the plans, making room for him in their little group and giving him a place at the table.

They aren’t his friends, can’t be because Pierce doesn’t need any, but he think he might want some anyways.

[maxwell-grant]

You have done an (excelent) post on how to reinvent Batman as a Pulp Hero. Do you think you could do one to Superman as well? Or do you think it is impossible to do this with the progenitor of the Super Hero genre without transforming him in a totaly diferent character?

Well, you saying it as impossible only makes it seem ever more tempting of a challenge, but yes, it is a bit harder. I'm gonna link my Batman post here as a reference point.

Partially because Batman's a franchise I've thought extensively about for a long time in regards to what I like about it or how I'd like to approach if given the opportunity, which is not something I can really say for Superman until more recently the Big Blue to start orbiting my brain. I don't have years worth of redesigns or fan concepts saved on my galleries and files to comb through to pick and choose here, and my experience with Superman as a character is considerably different, in some aspects more deeply personal, and not really something I'd like to go into in this blog, at least not now.

Part of the reason why it's harder is also because Batman and Superman have very different relationships with their pulp inspirations. Batman was, ostensibly, a pulp character adapted to comics, a dime-a-dozen Shadow knock-off who picked up and played up diverging traits from other characters and gradually ran with them to gradually forge a unique identity. Superman right from the start was rooted in a much stronger conceptual underpinning: the Sci-Fi Superman and Alien Menace who, instead of being a tragic monster or a tyrannical villain, becomes a costumed adventurer and social crusader. Even the name Super-Man was taken from an early story of Siegel and Shuster about a telepathic villain who ends the story lamenting that he should have used his powers for the good of mankind instead of selfishness. I hesitate to call what Siegel and Shuster were doing “subversive” because that term's picked up a real negative connotation, and it's not like Siegel and Shuster were out to upend their influences (they were pulp aficionados themselves), but rather putting a more positive, new spin on them.

Which is why it also becomes a bit harder to do what I did with Batman and align Superman with some of his pulp-esque inspirations, like John Carter, Flash Gordon or Hugo Danner, without just making it "Superman but he's John Carter", "Superman but it's Flash Gordon", and "Iron Munro / Superman but everything sucks" respectively. It's harder to create a character that wouldn't feel reduntant and derivative at best, and actively contradictory to Superman at worst.

I guess if I had to come up with a "Pulp Hero Superman" take I liked, well first of all I'd have to take steps to distance it from the likes of Tom Strong or Al Ewing's Doc Thunder, those two are as good as it gets in regards to Pulp Supermen. I stipulated for Batman a "No Guns, No Murder, No Service" policy partially to distance my takes on Batman from all the "Pulp Batmen" that just add guns and murder and take Batman back to the barest of basics. Likewise, I'm adding a "No Depowered Science Hero" rule here, which means it's a take that's likely going to veer off a lot more into fantasy and probably enough tampering with Clark's character that it does risk becoming a different character.

Frankly I don't think I'm gonna succeed at doing these without just making it a new character entirely, because with Batman you can get away with just upending the character's aesthetic and setting and even origin and still keep it recognizably Bruce Wayne (in fact Batman does that all the time), which isn't really the case with Superman, who needs those to remain recognizably Superman as he goes through internal changes and character shifts. I guess what I'm gonna do here is more taking the building blocks of Superman/Clark Kent and see a couple new ways I can rearrange them to create a Pulp Superman

Perhaps something we can do is to scale back or recontextualize the "superhero" parts without diminishing Superman's role as a superpowered fantasy character.

One way we can start is by picking on that connection between Superman and the sci-fi supermen/alien monsters of pulps I mentioned earlier and play it up further, to create a Superman who's deeply, deeply alien in a way that no mild-mannered disguise or colorful outfit can really disguise, something so dramatically powerful and alien, that instead you could get tales about the kinds of ensuing changes and ripple effects this has on the world upon the The Super-Man's arrival. And for that I'm gonna have to quote @davidmann95's concept for Joshua Viers' absolutely stunning Superman redesign on the left side of the image above

The red, the goldish-orange and white, the alienness, the angelic, sculpted feeling, the halo, that innocently curious expression: it’s genuinely beautiful. Superman as a redeeming science-angel from beyond our understanding, as much past the uncanny valley of limited human comprehension as a Lovecraftian monster but tuned to the opposite key - you could spend an endless procession of human lifetimes trying and failing to understand this being, but all you’ll ever know for sure is that it is beyond you, and it knows you, and it loves you.

Superdoomsday from Earth 45, healed and transformed into the savior it was originally envisioned as? Some descendant of his, or a future of the man himself? An alien who picked up on a broadcast of Superman from Earth, and so inspired reshaped itself in his image to spread his ‘gospel’ to the stars?

Alternatively, to come back to Earth a little, many, many pulp characters and series were built off the antics and personalities of real people, celebrities getting their own magazines or serials or fictionalized takes on them, so perhaps one way to make a "pulp" take on Superman would be to emphasize a bit more of Superman's real-world roots, trends that inspired his creation directly or indirectly at the time. The Jewish strongman Sigmund Breibart and Shuster's interest in fitness culture, Harold Lloyd's comic persona, the rising "strongman" film genre in the early 20th century, actors Clark Gable and Kent Taylor that supposedly named his secret identity, Clark Kent being a socially-awkward journalist based of Siegel's own school experiences.

Maybe one start to an authentic Pulp Superman, who would still be Superman, would be to just ask the question "What if Superman was a real person and/or a celebrity, and they started making pulp magazines and serials dedicated to him? What would those look like?". You wouldn't even have to restrict it to just a story set in the 1930s, in fact you could even play around with the rise of new mediums over the decades.

This third one is a little closer to some plans I have for my own take on a Superman character, not necessarily what I would do with Superman proper but one of my ideas for a Superman analogue. Superman's a character I'll always associate strongly with childhood and childhood fantasy, and to tap into that I would emphasize the other end of the fiction that influenced Siegel and Shuster: comic strips, in their case specifically Little Nemo and Popeye.

In my case I would bring additional influences from some of the comic strips I personally grew up reading like Monica's Gang and Calvin and Hobbes, and I already talked a bit about Captain Fray in terms of how he’s a Superman character despite being a villain. I guess you could call this one "What if Superman was a public domain comic strip character, stripped of the importance of being the founding figure of a super popular genre or extended universe, and also was kind of ugly?".

He's not "Sloth from the Goonies" ugly, I swear I didn't actually have Sloth in mind when typing out this idea, I've never watched that film nor did I know until now that he actually spends the film in a Superman shirt. That's not really what I'm going for. Visually I was thinking of modeling my take on Superman heavily after Hugo from Street Fighter and his inspiration Andre the Giant, to really emphasize the “circus strongman / freak wrestler” aspect of Superman’s inspiration, particularly in regards to how Hugo’s SFIII version strikes a really great balance in making Hugo ugly and both comedic and fearsome in battle, as well as lovable and even a little dopey (without being outright stupid, like his IV self) in his victory animations and endings.

He's still Superman, he still goes on fantastical adventures to help people, he's still a deeply loving and compassionate soul whose face beams with joy and affection and who's got wonderful eyes and a great smile. It's just that this smile has a couple of mismatched stick-out teeth or some missing ones, and he's got a crooked smile some people take as smug or malicious, he’s got a strongman’s gut instead of a bodybuilder’s abs, his nose is a little busted (maybe he’s had too many crash landings), and his hair is a little wild or greasy, and he doesn't exactly have very good people skills because of how others usually react to him and, y'know, he doesn't get the kind of publicity Superman would get despite doing ostensibly the same things. He’s not deformed, he’s incredibly intelligent and capable, but in comparison to how superheroes are usually allowed to look, he might as well be Bizarro in the public eye.

It becomes a running gag that people tend to assume some nearby fireman or cop was the one who rescued the hundred orphans out of a burning building single-handedly, meanwhile he's getting accosted off-panel by police officers who think he set the building on fire, or think they can bully this weird man dressed funny. He goes to rescue old people in peril and occasionally they yell at him that they don't have any money. He doesn't get asked to lead superhero meetings or teams even though many in the community advocate for just how much he does for the world, he gets censored out of tv broadcasts or group shots (even his face is sometimes pixelated when they do show him), people invite him on talk shows and don't really let him talk or assume they got the wrong guy. He goes to rescue a woman dangling off a building, and then he gets attacked by like three different superhero teams who assume he must have kidnapped the poor damsel. He was the first superhero, he is the strongest of them all still, but he never really gets credit for it, it nor does he even want to. None of this at all stops him or deters him, except for some occasionally funny reactions.

This never really changes for him, he doesn't really earn people's approval nor does he have to, instead the stories, outside of the gags and adventures you’d expect from a comic strip, veer more towards others learning to be less judgmental and him learning ways to better approach people. He isn't any lesser than Superman just because he doesn't look like most people would want him to look and he doesn't have to look like Superman. Really I think we could use more superheroes that don’t look all so uniformly pretty.

Again, probably not a take that would work for Clark proper, but it’s one way I would take a shot at doing Superman with my own

I have other stuff in the works for this character but I'd like to keep them to better work on them for now, but yeah, these are three of my shots at developing a Pulp Superman.

Alternatively here's a fourth idea that's more pulp than all of these: Join up Nicholas Cage with Panos Cosmatos again, or whatever weird indie director he decides to pair up with next, and let them do whatever the hell they want with Superman. Give us Mandy Superman. Superman vs The Color Out of Space. Superman vs Five Nights at Freddy's. Superman’s quest to find THE LAST PIG OF KRYPTON. Anything goes.

[jaceyneedsabetterusername]

Manhattan Sunsets

Pairing: Arvin Russel x Fem!Reader

Summary: Arvin gets stationed in Brooklyn after a tour in Vietnam but had never really gone into the city before. When he does, he meets Y/N, who makes it a point to get this small town boy to see the city. (Requested by @euphoriaoxygen​)

Warnings: Brief mentions of PTSD from the war

Word Count: 3950

A/N: Sorry this took so long to get out. I killed my computer, had to buy a new one, and then I had to catch up on school but I’m hoping to get more fics out. 

________________________________

When Arvin left Knockemstiff, he had no idea what he was planning to do with his life. What could he do? He murdered four people. The idea alone left him feeling sick to his stomach but he knew that at the end of the day, that was exactly what had happened. It wasn’t that he regretted any of it. Preston Teagarden had to pay for his role in Lenora’s suicide and the harm of who knows how many other girls. Carl, Sandy, and Sheriff Lee were all going to kill him first. He knew at least the last three were self-defense, but what did the police think? 

A few weeks had gone by since he left Knockemstiff, traveling to Cincinnati with that nice fella that had given him a ride. Those weeks had given him time to really sit and think about his future. That was when he realized that he didn’t really have plans. His entire life, he told himself he’d get out of Coal Creek eventually. The last thing he wanted to do was die in that little God forsaken town but, beyond that, he didn’t really know. He honestly figured that his life would begin whenever his grandmother and Uncle Earskell passed away so they didn’t need him to care for them anymore. That was all out of the cards now, though, knowing that he’d endanger them just by going back. 

On Tuesday of the third week, he found himself at a recruiter’s office in Fort Thomas, Kentucky, enlisting for the army. If he was being honest with himself, even as he signed the papers, he knew he didn’t want to go overseas. The Vietnam War was one that practically nobody supported, including Arvin. He never understood why the U.S. felt the need to be involved in a battle that had literally nothing to do with us but the army came with a bed to sleep in, food to eat, a paycheck, and some benefits after (if) you got out. All of those were things that Arvin desperately needed. 

Basic training was a breeze. He’d been hardened by years of manual labor, both around his grandmother’s farm and doing construction around town. The other men had initially poked fun at him for his accent and his seemingly smaller stature compared to some of the 6’0”+ giants. That all stopped though the first time they saw him shed his shirt, revealing a rippling six pack of abs beneath taught skin and arms that had definitely seen more work than half of these bigger men. 

After basic training, he found himself stationed at Fort Hamilton Army Base in Brooklyn, NY. The army life was pretty close to what he’d imagined: rigorous, demanding, exhausting. Shortly after “settling in” at Fort Hamilton (if you can call being there for two weeks “settling in”), he was deployed across seas to fight in the battle of Ia Drang Valley before returning shortly after. 

It was a Saturday morning and Arvin found himself picking through his food like he did every morning. With a heavy sigh, he set down his meal pack. 

“You alright?” Willard Kast, one of his friends that had survived Ia Drang with him, asked from across the table. 

Arvin began to nod but it turned more into a head shake, “Ya ever just feel like everythin’s the same?” 

Kast laughed, “Well, yeah,” He said as if it was obvious, “They don’t exactly have us here to have fun.” 

“Yeah, but I… I don’t know. Guess I just sorta feel like my life is going on around me but I’m not goin’ with it.” Arvin was never known to be the person who actually spoke about his feelings. For some reason though, this war had just brought out a sudden mortality crisis of sorts. Every time he thought back to those memories of everyone he’d lost, whether it be his mother, father, dog, sister, or war buddies, the dead, blank eyes that stared back at him only seemed to be ghosts of lives still unlived. He didn’t want to be haunted by those same spirits. 

Kast smacked Arvin’s arm and beckoned for him to stand up, “Alright, you, up. Now. You’re getting off base today.” 

“I don’t even know where I’d go if I left.” Arvin huffed, standing up. 

“That’s the fun of it. Just go! Get out of this God forsaken place. See what you find.” Kast had always been oddly upbeat, especially compared to all the people Arvin had ever known growing up. Maybe it was the fact that anything Arvin had ever done felt like an accumulation of negativity so that it felt like there was no “fun in it” as Kast would put it. His friend noticed his hesitation before adding, “You do know what fun is, right?” 

Arvin chuckled a little bit, “Honestly, I don’t know if I do.” 

Within the hour, Arvin found himself dressed in civilian clothes for the first time in a while, a plain white t-shirt with blue jeans and some old, beat-up, black converse with his denim jacket slung over his shoulders. It was getting into autumn now and, though the sun still shone, there was a chill in the breeze. 

Once he stepped off base, he started on his aimless wandering down the streets. Arvin looked up in awe at the tenements and office buildings, sometimes built over restaurants or drug stores. Even though he'd been stationed in Brooklyn for a little while now, he'd never actually taken the time to explore the city. This small town boy was almost overwhelmed. 

Horns of vehicles beeped occasionally and trains roared overhead on raised tracks. On many streets, kids played with balls or some version of baseball with a busted off plank of wood instead of a real bat. Some others were running around just playing tag. A small smile upturned the corner of his lips as he watched them laugh out of the corner of his eye. He wished he'd had something like this growing up. Friends.  

Off to his left, a drug store caught his eye and he dipped in to grab a pack of cigarettes. They didn’t have anything fancy, not that he needed anything that was. Just a pack of the most mediocre selection they had was what he’d left with, lighting one up as he continued his stroll down the street. 

He kept his baseball cap down low, trying to blend in with the rest of the passerby. Arvin had never been one for calling attention to himself. Even in a new place, like Brooklyn, he figured passing through unnoticed would be the best way to go. 

“Mother fu- Just work!” 

Arvin hadn’t had his curiosity piqued by much on this stroll through the city but the disgruntled groans of a girl definitely drew his attention. He slowed his walk just slightly and looked around for the root of the complaints. There was a group of kids playing jacks to his right on the steps leading into a tenement but it was clear that they weren’t the angry woman in question. 

Just ahead, to his left, a car was pulled off to the side of the street and you popped up from the front right side of your car, an annoyed look on your face. You pressed against the car and leaned back, stretching your back out for a moment, before kicking what he assumed to be the tire with a frustrated outcry. 

“Okay, okay…” You breathed, trying to calm down, an almost hysterically frustrated smile on your face, like when you’re so mad that you have no choice but to laugh because, if you don’t, you’re going to punch a wall. Again, you disappeared, crouching back down. Arvin couldn’t see what you were doing but judging by the dragging of metal, he assumed you were trying to fix a tire. 

Arvin approached the back of your car to see you knelt down, the knees of your flare jeans rubbed black from the pavement. You were leaning with all your might onto a bar that curved and hooked onto the bolts on your very flat tire. However, he was impressed to see the jack placed properly and already up in the right position- not that it was a woman thing…. He’d just seen plenty of idiots place the jack in the wrong place. 

“Sorry to bother but you look like you could use a hand.” Arvin offered politely, stepping closer. 

You turned to look at him with a start, not expecting anyone to speak. Arvin couldn’t help the small smile that crept on his face when he noticed the smear of grease across your cheek. Hair stuck up astray in a few places from you brushing it back and out of your face. 

It had always been a goal of yours to not need a man. You’d seen plenty of women in your life dependent on their husbands, daddies, and brothers to do everything for them and then seen them lose everything when they realized all they could do was cook and clean. Not to discredit cooking and cleaning as valuable life skills, because they absolutely were, but you were not going to be some damsel in distress whenever you needed an oil change or got a flat tire. 

But, as much as you hated to admit it, these bolts were giving you a run for your money. After having been at this for nearly twenty minutes to no avail, you sighed in defeat, “I mean, if you wouldn’t mind giving it a try, that would be real nice. I’ve been working at it for nearly twenty minutes and nothing.” 

“Here,” Arvin reached his hand out for the pull bar and you stepped aside to allow him room. He notched the socket over the bolt and pushed, trying to crack the bolt. You definitely weren’t exaggerating. Whoever put this on had done a number tightening it. Arvin tried again, leaning into the bar. The denim of his jacket tightened around his flexing muscles as he did so until, finally, it cracked loose and the bolt gave way, twisting. 

With a wipe of your hand across your face, you sighed. It took all your might to (unsuccessfully) not imagine the way this man’s muscles must have been bulging beneath his jacket as he cranked the bar. 

Once it cracked loose, it was easy work to get the bolt off. By the time Arvin had arrived, you’d already managed to get all but two bolts off so he continued to work on the last one without you asking. 

“Oh- I can get that!” You interjected, leaning down to go to grab the bar back. 

Arvin stood up and shook his head, “No, no, it’s no problem. I’m glad to help.” 

When he returned to turning the bolts, you took a step back, brow cocked and arms crossed, “You’re not from around here, are you?” 

The bolt clanged to the ground with a metal clink and Arvin knelt down to shimmy the tire off, “Is it that obvious?” He chuckled, looking up at you as he rolled it to the side. You’d already had the spare ready to go right beside the old one and he grabbed it, wiggling it into place. 

You chuckled, “People don’t really go out of their way to help strangers here. And I like the accent. It’s cute. You from Tennessee or something?” 

Arvin froze up. Should he tell you? What were the chances of you knowing anything relating to the issues of his past? “Ohio.” 

“I didn’t know you guys had accents back there.” You leaned against the side of the car, watching him work on the tire for you. 

He tightened up the bolts all within the tire, “Depends on where you live, I guess.” Arvin pressed himself up, wiping his hands on his jeans as he did, “There ya go. You should be all set.” 

You stood up straight and ran your hands on your striped brown, black, and white turtleneck, your face contorting in annoyance when you realized you smeared grease on your favorite sweater. Arvin smirked a little when he noticed the action. 

You were pretty cute. Arvin felt a little confused. Girls back in Coal Creek had never really caught his eye. They were all so similar, just slight variations of each other. There were the hyper-religious good girls but they all reminded him too much of his sister. Either that or they were the girls who hung out with boys like Gene Dinwoodie and that was just a whole crowd that Arvin had no intention of associated with. 

“You really didn’t have to do all that… but thank you for the help.” Your hands rubbed together, the faint black debris marking your fingers. “I have a few bucks. Let me buy you a coffee or something as a thank you?” 

“Oh, no, you don’t have to do that.” Arvin readjusted his hat on his head. 

“Please, I insist. You just changed my tire.” You pressed, tucking your hand into your back pocket and crossing your ankles as you leaned against the car. Arvin stood a little closer to you, still a polite distance away, but there was a way he looked down at you that just made butterflies go through your stomach. 

Maybe this was what Kast meant. Maybe this was some of that life he should be living, that adventure he should be having. “Alright. But I don’t really know where anything is around here so….” 

“Don’t worry, I got you.” You smiled, “I know a place a few blocks away if you’re up for it? They have some pretty good pie too. Oh, and I’m Y/N by the way.” 

Nerves bubbled in Arvin’s stomach but something made him nod his head, almost against his will, “Arvin,” He nodded a small greeting, “And, yeah, that sounds nice.” 

With a smile, you tapped on the hood of your car and nodded your head over to the passenger side, “It’s not too far but it’s kind of cold. I’d rather drive personally but we can walk if you’re more comfortable with that.” 

The offer took Arvin back to his time hitchhiking his way out of Coal Creek and Knockemstiff. There had been a few bad experiences with handsy truckers and women who’d picked him up but they didn’t erase the memory of his first pick-up with Carl and Sandy. We all know how that ended… 

But he’d made it out of all of those situations, even if just barely, and he honestly didn’t feel uneasy around you. There was an endearing, hardworking, down-to-earth yet friendly energy you gave off that managed to put Arvin at ease. Before he knew it, he was sitting in the front seat of your car as you sped off down the road. 

The day had passed quickly with you and before Arvin knew it, it was already almost sunset. Coffee and pie had turned into a two hour long stay with the two of you talking about life which had in turn turned into a stroll through the city. 

He’d told you about how he had some family issues growing up and left his hometown to join the army. Your exact response was, “I’d say thank you for your service but I don’t exactly support the war if I’m being honest.” 

Arvin sipped his coffee and raised his eyebrows exasperatedly, “Neither do I.”

You told him about how you had been born and raised in Brooklyn, working at a local record shop to save up for a place of your own. You told him all about your career goals and how you wanted to find somewhere you felt like you really belonged. Brooklyn was your home, it always would be, but you felt like there was something else out there for you. 

Talking to you was easy- easier than anyone since Arvin’s mother. He couldn’t explain it but the quiet, secretive boy found himself at ease with you, not only willing to but wanting to open up to you. Maybe it was the adorable way you made it a point to smell your coffee before you drank it, taking in the comforting, rich scent, or maybe it was residue of grease still on your shirt. Arvin couldn’t quite pinpoint it, but he was attracted to you in a way he hadn’t been attracted to anyone in his entire life. 

“Hey,” You perked up, “You said you’ve never really left base, right?” 

Arvin nodded, self-conscious about his lack of adventurous spirit, as Kast would put it, “Unfortunately.” 

“You need to do all the stupid tourist things in New York.” You hit the countertop excitedly, as if the grandest idea anyone had ever had had occurred o you. 

Arvin’s face scrunched up and he shook his head, looking away, “Nah, that ain’t really my thing.” 

“C’mon,” You pressed, holding onto his forearm enthusiastically, “I’m not saying you gotta go stand around and get mugged in Time Square or anything but I think you should experience the city while you’re out here!” 

Sightseeing had never interested Arvin. Hell, he never really even thought he’d make it out of Coal Creek, if he was being honest with himself. Even if he did, he just expected to end up in some other shit hole town that was the same with different people. He never really put much thought into what he wanted to do. His mind had just been so consumed with what he needed to do. 

Arvin swivelled in his chair to face you, “Well what would you suggest that a newcomer go see here?” 

It didn’t take you long at all to think up an idea, “Can you stay out till sunset?” 

_____ 

Manhattan was definitely a different feel from Brooklyn. Arvin felt almost anxious here with all the cars and people and whatnot. He thought the army base was crowded but that was nothing compared to the bustle of the heart of New York City. Skyscrapers dwarfed neighboring buildings, casting shadows that somehow made Arvin feel miniscule in comparison. 

“Here we are!” You exclaimed excitedly, disappearing through the revolving door of a classy looking building. Arvin followed you inside, meeting with you in the large main room. There was a window with a man behind it that you approached, “Two tickets to the top please.” You dug into your small white purse and pulled out a few bills and handed them to the man in exchange for tickets. 

“Wait, what’re you buyin’?” Arvin stepped over to you, about to interject the transaction. The last thing he wanted was you spending more money on him.  

“Tickets.” You said as if it were obvious.

“To what?” He asked, confused. 

You turned around, two tickets in hand, with a smile, “Do you not know where we are yet?” Arvin slowly shook his head, wondering why he was supposed to. “We’re at the Empire State Building!” 

Arvin had heard of the building, even seen pictures of it in a history book one time, but he really didn’t know much about it. Big cities had never been his interest but seeing the way your eyes lit up with excitement to show him made all reservations melt. 

The elevator ride up was nerve wracking to say the least. It wasn’t severe but Arvin had developed minor PTSD from the war. He’d seen many men get killed or trapped, dragged away and unable to escape. This metal death box traveling up hundreds of stories made him feel trapped. He hadn’t noticed that he started rocking back and forth on his heels, gripping his own biceps, until you put a gentle hand on his arm, “You okay?” 

With a shaky breath, Arvin nodded and put on a smile, “Yeah. Elevators just make me kinda nervous.” 

The elevator stopped at one level but you dragged him up several flights of stairs to get to the very top where you could stand on the balcony. 

It was fairly busy but not unenjoyably so. “Okay, come over here!” Yet again, Arvin found himself being led by you to the very edge, leaning on the high railing. “What do you think?” 

It was breathtaking, beyond anything Arvin had ever seen. The sun was now setting, casting a warm orange-pink hugh on the city. The buildings and streets were illuminated with tiny lights, creating a sea of little flickering stars. In the far distance, the ocean stretched on for miles. Even the sky was beginning to try and match the city, though the few stars that were beginning to peek through the sunset were nearly drowned out by the light of the city. 

“It’s amazin’.” Arvin sighed out, almost overwhelmed. So this was the world outside of Coal Creek?

“Isn’t it something?” Arvin glanced down to see you looking down at the city with such adoration. A warm, orange glow cast across your face, accenting every beautiful feature. But then you turned to face him and he nearly stopped breathing. He knew from the first moment he met you that you were an attractive woman but you looked absolutely radiant now. 

Tension began to rise when you realized how close you were to the man. Your hips were almost touching as you stood side by side. Your hands were mere centimeters apart on the safety railing. 

Arvin could have gotten lost in your eyes but you tore your gaze away, returning it to the city. Instead, you slowly inched your hand towards his until your fingers touched his, testing the waters. He tensed up, looking down to see your fingers nudging his. He glanced back over at you to see your eyes flick questioningly to his. 

Arvin closed the gap between you, intertwining his fingers with yours. Your heart fluttered out of your chest when you felt him pull you ever so slightly closer to him. Your head rested on his shoulder and your free hand came up to grab his arm. 

“Y’know, if changing strangers’ tires is gonna turn out like this, I’m gonna have to start doin’ it more often.” He teased but his voice sounded sincere. Of all the possibilities that today had, this was not one that he had imagined when he left base this morning. Holding onto a beautiful girl at the top of the Empire State Building seemed like something out of a movie, not something that happened to real people. 

The sun fully set and the stars came out, rivaling the city lights in a display of firework-like sparkles. The full moon acted almost as a spot light in the dark sky, drawing your attention. Arvin had no idea how long the two of you had been standing there but he felt like he could stand there for forever. 

Eventually, you shifted against his side and your voice popped up, soft and quiet, “Hey, Arvin?” 

“Hm?” 

“Maybe we can see each other again?” You twisted in his grasp, which had now traveled to be around your shoulders. Now you looked straight up at him, faces only a small distance apart. 

The corners of Arvin’s lips turned up, “I’d like that.” 

Your arms were wrapped around his torso and his arms were encasing your body, resting on your upper back. Arvin’s eyes flicked from your lips to your eyes and back down again, as if asking for permission before going in. Both of you slowly inched towards each other before your lips touched in the middle. His lips were surprisingly soft and gentle against yours in the sweet, slow kiss. 

When you pulled away, neither of you opened your eyes for a few moments, just resting your foreheads against each other. “Call me a fool for falling for a girl I just met but I think I like you.” Arvin admitted with a satisfied smile, pulling you closer to him. 

[wangisking]

𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐘  𝐋𝐎𝐍𝐆  𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑  𝐒𝐔𝐑𝐕𝐄𝐘

BASICS. FULL    NAME  :  Augustus Alexander Wang  NICKNAME  :  August and Gus ( in general ), Auggie, Ice Prince, and Guggie ( by Aurora ). Aug and Lestat  ( by Jack ),  NAME    MEANINGS  : Augustus is  Latin for  the great / the magnificent.  Alexander is also Latin and means defender of mankind. From what I know, Wang in Chinese means king.  HISTORICAL    CONNECTION ?  : Though, his dad did think of the Roman Emperor Augustus when they named him, they liked the meaning. It seemed to fit him. They weren’t wrong, he was an emperor and he still has that energy.   AGE  :  22. Like Aurora, he can’t age past 22. He wouldn’t have minded either way.    BIRTHDAY  :  5th  April ETHNIC    GROUP  :   Augustus is half Korean and half Brazilian.  NATIONALITY  :   British LANGUAGES  :   fluent  in  English and French. Conversational Latin. Broken Korean. Learning Urdu. SEXUAL    ORIENTATION  :  demi-heterosexual ROMANTIC    ORIENTATION  :  demi-heterosexual RELATIONSHIP    STATUS  :   Single and doesn’t want to mingle. He had only one serious relationship in the past with Aurora Shams from 2017-2019.  CLASS  :  Upper  class,  Wealthy but not private-jet kind of wealthy.  HOME    TOWN  /  AREA  :  London till he was 10 and Vancouver till he was 17 CURRENT    HOME  :  Los  Angeles PROFESSION  :   Drummer, songwriter, model, and student.    PHYSICAL. HAIR  :  long  and  wavy.  Chestnut brown. Here is an example. It goes down his earlobes in length.    EYES  :  piercing, almond-shaped eyes. Naturally brown, but he wears blue or green contact lenses.  NOSE  :   a Greek nose, straight without bumps. FACE  :  Oblong shaped, sharp and chiseled cheekbones, strong jaw. Masculine features. Example.  LIPS  :  not  full  nor  thin, heart shaped.     COMPLEXION  :  pretty pale. Example is same as the face section.  SCARS  :  one on his chest. TATTOOS  :  a very small ‘10/17′ on his left rib.   PIERCINGS:  earlobes HEIGHT  :  6′5″  or  195cm.   BUILD  :  Inverted triangle. Broad, tapered shoulders. Muscular. Defined, sculpted abs. Long limbs. Broad chest. He was naturally towards the muscular side with broad shoulders and chest. He’s never been on the skinny side. Example one and two   USUAL  HAIR  STYLE  :  he lets his hair do their thing, he styles them a little, but he prefers a messier vibe.  USUAL  FACE  LOOK  :  He looks generally bored. His eyes have a piercing look that seem to be drilling into the person before him. Like he can see right through you. There is an insolent smirk tugging at his lips like he thinks you’re amusing. Almost proud, like he thinks he is above you. There is depth and intensity in his eyes that stare skywards in thought. There is also mischievous, radiant glimmer in his eyes.   USUAL    CLOTHING  :  prince charming meets rockstar. Lots of jackets, darker colors, boots, necklaces and rings. Here is his wardrobe.      PSYCHOLOGY. FEARS  :  claustrophobia and the fear of ending up alone. He always had this creeping feeling that he’d be alone in the end and that he was always meant to be alone.  ASPIRATIONS  :   he doesn’t have any set aspirations. They change every now and then. However, his goals are just to keep his found family happy.  POSITIVE    TRAITS  :  extremely charismatic, intelligent,  academic and studious, alluring and attractive, quick-witted, charming and captivating, articulate and eloquent, adventurous, desirable, analytical, brilliant, friendly, enthusiastic, adaptable, observant, kind, mellow, competent, extremely caring and protective over those closest to him, clever, loyal, clear-headed, confident, humorous, courageous, imaginative and creative, a visionary, refined tastes and manners, daring, dignified, ebullient, deep, remarkable, surprisingly he’s very forgiving, forthright, gallant, logical, gentlemanly and sophisticated, perfectionist, popular, self-reliant, shrewd, witty, suave, curious, and resourceful.    NEGATIVE    TRAITS  :  egocentric, self-obsessed, idle, indifferent, selfish, defiant, arrogant, argumentative, rebellious, kinda lazy, stubborn, distracted, doesn’t really care for morals, blunt, can appear insensitive a lot, is insensitive at times, no filters, can be cold for those he doesn’t care for, emotionally immature, deflects emotions, suppresses his feelings, sorta detached, kinda pessimistic, and unknowingly self-sacrificing because he thinks it’s fair and he deserves it.   MBTI  :  ENTP  (  Ne  dominant,  Ti  auxiliary,  Fe  tertiary,  and  Si  inferior  —  this  means  she  can’t  use  Ni,  Se,  Te,  and  especially  can’t  use  Fi). He  perceives  the  world  by  connecting  dots,  thinking  of  never-ending  possibilities,  looking  for  pieces  of  a  puzzle,  and  finding  meaning  in  abstract.  He  makes  judgments  on  if  what  he  perceives  fits  his  internal  logic.          ZODIAC  :  Aries sun, Gemini rising, Sagittarius moon.  TEMPERAMENT  :  sanguine choleric  ANIMALS  :  parrots and cats because they’re both intelligent but little pieces of shit who enjoy making your life hell.  VICE  :   it’s either his ego or how he ends up detaching himself FAITH  :  currently, he’s Mu.slim. He was born protestant, became an atheist when he was 13, agnostic at 14. Bud.dhist at 15. Taoist at 16. Confucianist at 17. Mu.slim at 19. Doesn't practice it though.     GHOSTS  ?  :  yep.. AFTERLIFE  ?  :   yep REINCARNATION  ?  :  he guesses so. Went  through  it, but doesn’t remember. ALIENS  ?  :  hell yeah. POLITICAL    ALIGNMENT  :  liberal. ECONOMIC    PREFERENCE  :   upper class or upper middle class is good with him.  EDUCATION    LEVEL  :   MSci in Physics from the University of Cambridge. Is opting to specialize in astrophysics soon. FAMILY. FATHER  :  Edward Wang, owner of a chain of fine dining restaurants  MOTHER  :  Elisa Violeta Wang, psychiatrist, deceased  STEP MOTHER :  Chaeyoung Wang, lawyer.  SIBLINGS  :  Cassandra Wang, athlete EXTENDED    FAMILY  :  he is not close with his external family and doesn’t know his birth mother’s family at all. They never wanted him.  FAVOURITES. BOOK  :   Crime and Punishment by Fyodor Dostoevsky, Galactic Dynamics by James Binney, Kafka on the Shore by Haruki Mukarami, Slaughter house Five by Kurt Vonnegut, War and Peace by Leo Tolstoy, and Lord of the Flies by William Golding. MOVIE  :  Scott Pilgrim vs The World 5    SONGS :  All You Want - Dashboard Prophets, Tokyo Smoke - Cage the Elephant, Where is My Mind? - The Pixies, Sparks - Coldplay, Lithium - Nirvana, and Mr. Blue Sky - Electric Light Orchestra     DEITY  :  none.  Let him argue with one and ask for proof of their deity-ness. HOLIDAY  :  Halloween. It’s dramatic and fun. MONTH  :   October, because he met Aurora and Jack this month in 2017. SEASON  :  spring  and  summer. PLACE  :  he doesn’t have a specific place, but he prefers European architecture.  WEATHER  :  cloudy and windy. Sunny if it isn’t too hot. SOUND  :  drums and percussions, the sound of aurora and jack’s laugh, guitars, violins, the sound of wind roaring, music boxes, and the clinking of bangles and jewelry.  SCENTS  :  sage, rosemary, and damascus roses. TASTES  :  chocolate, strawberries, chilies, and fried food.       FEELS  :   the feeling of hitting the drums, wind in his hair, the cold night air, warm morning sun, grass against his fingertips, silk, and touching long hair.   ANIMALS  :  cats and dogs. NUMBER  :   8 COLORS  :  white, cherry red, pink, maroon, wine red, black, and silver. EXTRA. TALENTS  :  he is an extremely talented drummer, good at guitar and the piano, he is talented at songwriting, composing music, he’s exceptionally good at mathematics and physics, analytical skills, storytelling, knows a lot of facts, near photographic memory because he remembers all important historical events with dates and details, academic writing, and brainstorming ideas.  BAD  AT  :   cooking, not very good at driving because he gets distracted, doing one task at a time, playing videogames, actually listening to what people say, being humble, and actually being a good leader.  TURN    ONS  :  this is a complicated question. He needs a very strong emotional connection to feel sexual attraction towards someone. And he only felt it for one person in his whole life. But, what sparked that attraction was a brilliant mind and the ability to connect with his mind on a very different level. It’s not going to repeat with anyone else.  TURN    OFFS  :  literally everyone else. He’s not sorry, but I am. HOBBIES  :  playing the drums, writing and composing songs, reading, solving problems, listening to music, watching shows, getting people to do weird shit, and annoying people.      AESTHETIC  :  crowns, drums, broken drumming sticks, abstract art, the vast space, chess boards, album cases, thrones, the echoing sound of pianos, Greek sculptures, galaxies and nebulas, early morning sunrise through curtains, libraries, equations scribbled on napkins, empty museums, unmade white sheets, polaroid cameras, conspiracy theories, VHS tapes, antique books, cobblestone alleyways, night skies, cluttered books, calloused fingers, crumpled composition pages, guitar picks, vinyl, telescopes, and planets.      Basically: abstract, chaotic academia, cryptid academia, dark academia, indie, kingcore, light academia, musical academia, science academia, spacecore,   QUOTES  :   it’s weird but i can’t decide which one fits him.  FC  INFO. MAIN    FC  :  victor han  ALT    FC  :  n/a. OLDER    FC  :  he can’t age past 22, so he doesn’t need one. YOUNGER    FC  :  none  yet. VOICE    CLAIM  :  both speaking and singing (his accent is posh British with a slight hint of Canadian) MUN  QUESTIONS. Q1  :    If you could write your character your way in their own movie , what    would  it  be  called ,  what  style would it be filmed in, and what would it be about ?    A1 :  The same answer as Aurora, The Tale of Solis et Lunae that stars him alongside Aurora, Lunae, Jack, and Tate, plus more. A cosmic adventure / fantasy / coming of age / superhero / the reluctant hero / the chosen one.  His role is of Aurora’s best friend and her greatest support in emotional and supernatural dangers. He is the time traveler who ascends time and space, so he often also gives her insight and information like the sage. It’ll  expand across dimensions, worlds, and different states of existence. The scenes would be cinematic with a strong soundtrack. I imagine him to have some scenes like Quick Silver in the X-Men movies.       Q2  :   What would their soundtrack / score sound like  ?     A2  :   He would have a 90s grunge or spacey dream rock sound. It ties in with the end of the last answer because i see him in one of those scenes with 90s grunge or maybe classical music ?    Q3  :      Why did you start writing this character  ? A3  :    I made Augustus just a bit before Aurora. They were a two part deal. I don’t know when it began, I just had this image of a tall, long haired boy with piercing, intelligent eyes who’s a smart-ass and likes being a know-it-all nuisance. This character has been the same since he began in 2019 and refused to change. He was always a drummer, he always had the same fashion sense, the look, Gus was always half-Korean, he always had long fingers he wore rings on, and he was always Aurora’s best friend/partner in crime. He remains unchanged and that's why I wanted to write him. This very vivid image of this boy was something I had to pen down. And just my luck, I found a fc who looks exactly how Gus looked in my head.   Q4  :    What  first  attracted  you  to  this  character  ? A4  :   Augustus is just extraordinary. It’s something I always felt about him and Aurora and I don’t see any of my other characters coming anywhere close to them regardless of how much I spent time on them. But with Augustus, his entire image and looks and personality — down to his wardrobe and jewelry was always so vivid in my head. Like I knew this very chaotically handsome boy who was going to turn the world upside down.  His story is interesting, but what interests me more is his perspective on his story. The way he looks at his life and how he is quiet and doesn’t show his pain. How confused he always is. How much he aches but never seems so. The way he loves but doesn’t say even a quarter of the intensity he feels. And how sometimes he believes he deserves suffering because it makes sense to him. I also love the connections he makes and the way he loves so deeply and profoundly but underneath the surface. His connection, love, fears, and hopes with Aurora and Jack for their respective reasons are extremely beautiful.   Q5  :      Describe the biggest thing you dislike about your muse.  ? A5  :  Augustus is unknowingly self-sabotaging. He let go the only relationship / love in his life that made him feel like real love just because he thought he didn’t deserve it. And because when he was provoked, it made “sense” to him. He bottles his emotions and pain so much despite their intensity. He never shows how much he really cares and really hurts. And how sure he is that he’ll end up alone without friends and that it makes sense to him. Q6  :      What    do    you    have    in    common    with    your    muse  ?   A6  :    Here’s a fun answer, because I bottle my emotions like him. I also interact with the carefree way he does even if I don’t feel peachy. He’s smart and witty and really hot and I don’t even have that going on for me. So, yikes. Only of Gus’ bad things I share.  Q7  :      How  does your muse feel about you  ?   A7  :  Gus loves interacting with people so he’ll definitely show up to annoy me. Maybe, he might think I’m fun to annoy? Or maybe, we’ll have a similar sense of humor. I think he won’t dislike me. Not sure if he’ll like me. I think he’d think I’m funny in a strange sort of way.  Q8  :      What    characters    does    your    muse    have    interesting    interactions  with  ? A8  :    Aurora, first of all. They have this same brain wave-length thing going on where they’re partners in crime and bffs forever more. He knows how she is feeling and what she’s thinking even before she utters it. If she is about to sneeze, he’d get a tissue ready. He can tell if she is hungry or sleepy with one glance. She can do the same, so they sorta have this weird understanding of each other.  Jack is this older brother figure Augustus loves. He won’t admit it, but he kinda wants to make Jack proud of him. He also wants to provide love and care to Jack that he thinks he deserves but never got. They’re his family now and he’ll never be alone or sad again. He annoys Jack a lot but behind it all, he just wants Jack to think he is needed and he belongs. That if he thinks Augustus is reliant on him, then he has this family he has to protect and care for. He can’t stand the thought of Jack feeling unloved, forgotten, alone.  Tida is another one. There’s this great respect and adoration Gus has for him. Almost like he looks up to him in some ways  He also has a lot of hopes and expectations attached. He feels Tida is everything that Gus himself lacks. He is the ideal boyfriend, kindest person, shows his emotions vividly, and is like a warm and cozy blanket personified. He is probably Tida and Aurora’s biggest supporter and first one to know. He can’t be happier than he is that Aurora found someone as good and perfect as Tida.   Taewon is one really fun character. Their two-way frenemy jealousy spans over years and started in Cambridge when they were both in love with the same girl they claimed to be best friends with. Though, trying to be calm, Augustus was constantly provoked and hurt, made to feel inferior and constantly in fear of his relationship being broken by Taewon’s schemes that he couldn’t say out loud. This dark period ended with a fist fight and baggage of guilt they both carry to this day for hurting each other and the one they claimed to love. Today, they’re way past that and frenemies who have funny quips and arguments for each other. They say they dislike each other. But if the lighting is good, one would be the photographer of the other. Q9  :      What    gives    you    inspiration    to    write    your    muse  ? A9  :  Music  helps  me  imagine  scenes  with  perfect  visual  details.  Any  scenes  from  shows  that  remind  me  of  my  storylines. Q10  :      How    long    did    this    take    you    to    complete  ?   A10  :  I don’t remember. It was many days and I didn’t count because it was in bits and pieces.

[twokinkybeans]

Stark On Ice: Starker Figure Skating AU Chapter 1

Summary: Six months ago, the broadcasters asked Tony to participate in Celebrity Spin-Off; an annual TV series where celebrities get paired up with a professional figure skater and compete against each other. Well, he’d laughed in their faces, wondering why they’d even ask. Were they really that stupid? He had better things to do. “If you can find me a male skater who lets me lead, I’m in,” he’d scoffed sarcastically to brush them off.

He didn't expect them to take his answer seriously.

Masterpost (to be posted) Find On AO3

---

Chapter One: Let Me Entertain You Tony readjusts his jacket as he walks into the large building that is the Midtown Ice Arena. It’s a few minutes before 7 AM, and he already downed a triple espresso on his way here - amusedly ignoring Happy’s complaints about it being so damn early. He will give the man a raise soon. Tony can’t say he’s a morning person, but having to get up this early every single day for three months in a row helps to get used to it. Today is different, though. He feels jittery and on-edge just thinking about today’s events. It’s the final rehearsal. Tonight he’s going to skate in front of the entirety of the States. He knows many people won’t even bother to watch the TV series, but the idea has him slightly nauseous anyway. His first live show…

Live show.

Tony chuckles sarcastically at himself as he sits down on one of the benches in the changing room. Live show. Six months ago, the broadcasters asked him to participate in Celebrity Spin-Off; an annual TV series where celebrities get paired up with a professional figure skater and compete against each other. Well, he’d laughed in their faces, wondering why they’d even ask. Were they really that stupid? He had better things to do. “If you can find me a male skater who lets me lead, I’m in,” he’d scoffed sarcastically to brush them off. 

He’s still not sure why they took his answer seriously, but they had. Tony Stark doesn’t back out of a promise, though. So, here he is, lacing up his skates after three months of intensive training, ready to work through his choreo together with his assigned partner Peter Parker. From what Tony’s heard, Peter is a pretty big deal in the skating world. He’s a sweet, enthusiastic 21-year-old who has enough talent and skill in pair skating to participate in the Olympics, yet he’d chosen not to. Instead, he tours across the US with Stars On Ice, coaches young kids at Midtown, and has a YouTube channel where he and his partner MJ post routines with traditional gender roles reversed.  Tony admires Peter’s passion. The man doesn’t like other people very fast, but Peter was something else entirely. He’s endearing in a way. It’s easy to like him. Which, thank god, is a positive thing. They’ve had to train together for a minimum of eighteen hours for the past three months - both on ice and off. Tony had been surprised to see that the theory classes and off-rink practice were just as important.

When Tony finishes lacing up his skates he walks towards the rink, finally knowing how to do that without looking like a waddling duck. A smile creeps onto his face when he spots his partner on the ice already. The boy moves around ever so graciously, practicing his triple axel. A few days prior, Peter told him he hadn’t done it in a while, and he and MJ intend to use it in their new YouTube tutorial, so he’s been wanting to perfect his landing. It’s not like he pops it, but the boy isn’t content very easily. Tony enjoys watching him rehearse no matter how he lands. He’s so beautiful out there. Like he was born to skate. After landing perfectly three times, Peter slows down to give himself a short break, and that’s when he spots Tony at the entrance. The man waves awkwardly and Peter grins. “Mornin’, grumpy-head!” Peter laughs as he skates towards him.  “Well, look at you. Always a beaming ray of sunshine, aren’t ya?” “You know me too well, Mr. Stark. Hope you didn’t forget to apply your sunscreen today!” Peter jokes, jumping off the ice to give Tony a short hug. Tony hates to admit he likes that Peter greets him like that every single day. The boy isn’t scared of him, unlike most other people. Another reason why Tony likes him. He grunts as a response to the joke and nudges Peter. “Think it’s time to start training. Steve here yet?” Tony asks, looking around to see if he spots their coach. Peter shakes his head. “No, his car broke down a few blocks from Midtown, he’ll be here soon enough. Let’s start warming up so we can dive right into the sequence when he gets here.” “Yes, coach.”

-

“Why- Why do these outfits have to be so glittery,” Tony jests as he eyes himself in the mirror. He’s wearing a tight and stretchy black button-up with thick, gold seams and shiny gold beads all over it. Thank god his pants are a simple plain black. Peter is adjusting his hair right next to him. The metallic gold tee hugs the boy’s skin so incredibly tight that Tony can’t help his gaze from wandering down a little, peeking at the boy’s gorgeous abs. Peter grins as he follows Tony’s gaze. “Well, I guess that’s why,” Peter retorts, and Tony blushes. He sniffs, staring at his own reflection again. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” “Says the man who asked for a male partner. I still don’t-” “Oh shush,” Tony cuts him off playfully and waves his hand in the air. Peter simply chuckles and finishes styling his curls. They’re silent for a moment and Tony’s thoughts wander. He hadn’t meant to stare like that. Yes, he was bisexual but that doesn’t mean he liked Peter like that. They were already making headlines on entertainment websites. He can’t even imagine what’d happen if they’d actually feel something for each other. That’d be insane and highly unprofessional. The kid is too young, and- No. Tony doesn’t even have to make excuses for himself. Peter is nice. That’s it. 

Thinking about them making the news doesn’t exactly settle his nerves. People are interested in them. Tony Stark on skates must be high-end entertainment for many people in itself, but the fact that they’re a male couple… He knows the public’s eye is on them tonight. “So tell me, kid. How does one contain nerves for a show, uh?” Tony asks, trying to keep it casual but failing massively. A gentle smile tugs on Peter’s lips. “Experience. Trusting yourself,” he starts. “You know, Tony. You won’t be flawless tonight. But that’s okay, remember? No one will be. Flawless is not what we aim for. Chemistry. Engaging the public, and-” “-just having fun on the ice,” Tony finishes for him with a nod. Peter has told him this many times before, but the reminder does settle his nerves. Tony’s a beginner, but he’s got the name and his charm. And Peter... They’ve got a pretty good shot. “Exactly. Now, tell me- what are you most nervous about?” “Honestly?” “Well, yes.” “Dropping you.” Peter sighs and takes a step closer to Tony.  “You won’t. You’ve only dropped me once, and I wasn’t even hurt. Even if it were to happen, I know how to take a fall. We’ll be alright. You’re one of the best skaters in this competition. You’re gonna ace this.” “Thank you, Pete. Hey, for what it counts, I’m glad you’re my skating partner.” “And I’m glad you’re mine.”

-

Tony’s throat is dry, his heart beating rapidly in his chest when his fingers tangle into Peter’s. The boy is so close to him, just like during practice. It grounds him. The floor manager smiles at them. “Good luck out there, you ready for it?” Tony nods, his lips pressed together in a thin line. Smile. He should smile. Peter squeezes his hands once and Tony takes a deep breath. He’s got this. They’ve got this. The floor manager signals, “-Standing by…” Oh, God. This is it. Tony sniffs. His hands feel sweaty, his stomach knots together once more. As much as he appears to be comfortable in public, the moment right before always has him on edge. Any moment now. His gaze focused on the floor manager. Waiting for her cue.  “And go!”

Tony forces his most charming smile on his face when he skates forward in unison with Peter, the cheers of the audience enveloping him. They stop in the center of the rink and he guides Peter in front of him. The boy’s arms are crossed in front of his chest. Tony puts a hand on Peter’s right shoulder. It’s quiet for a second, but then the familiar tune starts playing and Tony licks his lips. Peter smirks, pushing his skates into the ice to circle around the man, Tony’s gaze tracking him until he’s in front once again.

Hell is gone and heaven’s here There’s nothing left for you to fear Shake your arse come over here Now scream 

Peter twirls and presses into Tony’s side. They grin at each other and skate forward, towards the edge of the rink. Tony’s nerves finally settle when he focuses on just how smooth Peter glides over the ice. The loud music cuts off the sounds of their blades crushing the frozen surface beneath them, but Tony hears it in his mind instead. He knows exactly where to turn, where to move. Peter sends him a little nod right before they go into the crossovers. Tony doesn’t like crossovers all that much, it makes him feel stiff and uncoordinated. Yet, somehow his body seems to do it on autopilot today, simply mimicking Peter’s lead. 

I’m a burning effigy Of everything I used to be You’re my rock of empathy, my dear

Tony feels powerful in a way, his movements loosening up with every passing second. It’s time for their waltz jump. He turns around to transition into backward crosscuts and then shifts his weight from the right outer edge to the left one, throwing his right leg up in front. He gasps when he feels how smoothly he lifts off the ice. He’s flying through the air, weightless, and a quick glance confirms that Peter is too. When his right foot hits the ice again, he bends his right knee and extends his left leg behind him. The applause envelopes him like a warm blanket and the adrenaline coursing through his veins is an exhilarating sensation. He did it. He did it!

So come on let me entertain you Let me entertain you Let me entertain you

Tony turns around again to find Peter skating in his direction with a proud and goofy grin on his face. Tony’s heart leaps out of his chest when he realizes his partner is just as impressed as he is. Their hands find each other as they increase their speed to make it through another set of crossovers. Tony doesn’t even worry about them anymore at this point. Everything is just fucking amazing. 

Let me entertain you Let me entertain you (let me entertain you) So come on let me entertain you (let me entertain you) Let me entertain you (let me entertain you)

Tony takes a deep breath when he realizes it’s time for their lift. He sets off for his continuous three turns and feels how Peter starts leaning into him. The man prepares for the boy to jump up from the ice gracefully. When Peter does so, he easily catches him and they spin into their rotational lift. Tony loves this one - loves to have Peter in his arms bridal style while spinning around and around and around while remembering his words. Don’t be afraid of the speed. Stalling is falling. Tony doesn’t feel like they’re falling. No, it feels like they’re floating, setting off for space.

Come on come on come on come on Come on come on come on come on Come on come on come on come on

Peter moves slightly, indicating it’s time for Tony to help him back down again. They transition into forward strokes toward the center once more and slow down. Their arms are spread wide proudly. Peter then circles Tony just like he did in the beginning, leaning into Tony’s side when the music comes to an end. He can’t help wrapping an arm around him to pull him in closer, bathing in the applause and the cheers that are thrown their way. Oh my god. They pulled it off. He can’t believe they did it. Of course, he doesn’t have Peter’s finesse but fuck. As Peter would say, they aced it. Together. 

---

Next Chapter: To Be Posted

[seimeinotaka]

Movie Review (Vil x MC Fic)

(Cross-posted from AO3) 

His confidence shaking, Vil keeps pondering over himself and why he keeps losing to Neige. It somehow ends in a discussion with Ann about Type-casting, the role of an actor, and focusing on what is truly important.

Thanks to polyphenols@AO3 for beta-reading this! 

-

The kitchen was empty, for everyone had gone to bed, having learned that crossing Vil and breaking the rules wasn’t something to take lightly. Twenty minutes before curfew, Vil was washing the cup he had just used. He needed water to clear his head. Beating Neige in the VDC, being the fairest of them all. He had these goals in mind, but no matter how hard he tried, it was never enough. The water from the faucet couldn’t flush his thoughts away, as it flowed down his hands, so cold but Vil hadn’t even noticed either.

“-senpai?”

Why?

Why couldn’t he beat Neige?

What did Neige have that he lacked?

The cute character he always showed? Was it just that? Something he couldn’t even work with?

The hero, the beautiful holder of the Legendary sword. That was Neige’s role.

The cold beautiful villain. That was Vil’s role.

The water stopped.

“!”

Vil suddenly realized someone was next to him, having been struck slightly by their elbow, as this person turned off the faucet.

“Schoenheit-senpai, are you alright?” It was Ann, who had taken him out of his trance.

“Manager…yes, I’m fine,” he replied, still in a daze. He hadn’t meant to get so carried away in his thoughts that anyone saw him like this.

He wasn’t as annoyed as before with her, since she seemingly didn’t insult him and had apologized for whatever she had meant to say, though he was far from being on friendly terms with her. She seemed to be treating him with a certain distance, since their discussion had ended abruptly when she stormed off. He was perfectly fine with this unspoken arrangement.

Ann didn’t reply to his calm reassurance, but her expression let him know she wasn’t buying his words. She could keep her worry to herself, channeling it to win the VDC instead.

“…There’s something I wanted to talk to you about…” she finally said, after taking a deep breath to break the awkward silence. “It’s not about Epel…it’s about you…”

For a second there, she seemed to hesitate. Actually, this expression was the same one she had been wearing ever since she apologized when they crossed paths. As if she had something to say but feared doing so. Vil had never intended to ask her anything, ignoring her gaze if she had nothing to add to their discussions or practice.

“…Go on.” He prepared himself mentally, he was going to end up annoyed, but if he didn’t pretend to hear her now, she would be nagging him later on. He could certainly do without that, so he would take the lesser of the two evils.

She took a deep breath, and somehow bluntly stated, “You are going to get angry at me, but I might have heard your conversation with that Adella woman. About a film where Neige Leblanche got the lead and they wanted you to play the villain.” And just as that, she looked at him, ready to face her punishment.

He would have actually punished her, if he hadn’t been taken by surprise.

“How…?”

He had been extremely careful in answering his calls, only twice had he been contacted, and she wasn’t around then. Had Rook told her something? Rook had fine ears and he might have heard the phone calls, but he doubted his vice dorm leader would betray him and tell that private information to her.

“The other day… at the end of practice. I forgot my tablet after we uhhhh…had a discussion.” She grimaced, and forced herself to look at him. “I left it there but you were talking on the phone and I couldn’t just enter.”

“So, you decided to eavesdrop instead,” he coldly replied.

“It was an accident, I didn’t mean to! By the time I had realized what was happening, you left the room and I didn’t know what to do,” she hurried to add, stepping back defensively. “I’ve been thinking hard if I should talk to you about it but… Whatever. You are angry anyway, so, before you kill me for eavesdropping, lemme ask the following: Is Neige really that good? Or was it because he looks like the good hero?”

She was extremely right in him wanting to kill her in that moment, though her second question took him by surprise. “What do you think, Manager?” He was not going to talk about Neige.

“So, it’s the second…. I had a gut feeling it was like that. I looked around the internet, he’s mentioned a lot, I guess, but he just looks cute to me. I honestly don’t see why everyone goes wild about him. But I guess he does have the appeal to play the good-natured hero, just as you do look like a good fit for a handsome villain.”

He certainly did not need to have her rub salt on his wound, it was bad enough that Rook would blab and praise Neige. Clenching his fist, he was wondering how to curse her to make her stop.

“That’s pretty disappointing and boring, actually,” she said flatly.

“…What?”

“What do you mean what?” She looked at him confused, unaware that she was the one not making any sense at all. “I looked up the Legendary Sword, it’s supposed to be a groundbreaking film series, right? But if they go for such basic casting, is it really groundbreaking?”

Vil stared at her for a moment, a mix of extreme annoyance and deep confusion because what did one thing have to do with another? Not to mention, it was a series he loved.

"Have you even watched the first one?!"

How dared she say that.

"....No, but that's not really my point."

He gave her a scornful smile, as he said, “Of course, Manager. Here you go again, please give me your opinion on things you don’t know the least about.”

"I don’t need to watch a film to get a sense of what they are going for. I can get the aesthetic they are going for, and usually that goes in hand with the setting.” She shrugged her shoulders. “From what I heard of your conversation, yeah I’m sorry, it won’t happen again, you didn’t get to audition, so they offered you the role. Probably the same happened with Neige, so it means they are basing the casting on your physical appearance.”

It wasn’t his physical appearance entirely, but she wasn’t that wrong actually. He was almost impressed she could have figured it out. And that meant he had to be more careful than he thought. Though he should have suspected something, if she managed to dupe Azul.

“That’s pretty disappointing, they aren't taking your acting skills into consideration. A true actor can make the audience believe in their character, no matter how they look. That's strength of their histrionics."

"Don't you realize you're being overly idealistic? You didn't strike me as the type," he interjected, arching an eyebrow. He wasn’t sure what she was trying to do, but he was almost curious to see how farfetched her ramble would go.

"But, am I wrong? Also, you got a point. The plot and allegiances, the roles of the characters shouldn't be spelled out from appearances. That actually lessens the strength of your acting. It kills the story when I can see someone and know exactly that he is the bad guy just because he wears purple and looks cold. That’s not creative, it’s extremely boring. I thought that as a fashion model and probably a trendsetter, you would prefer to break the rules."

He wouldn’t deign to give her an answer, but she didn’t look at him like she was expecting one.

"The fact that you said I didn't look the type, that's exactly my point. I prefer when my characters are deeper than what they only look. When they surprise me because someone looks cute but isn’t the cute type, that keeps me on my toes. To subvert the expectations of the audience, while showing them a story they can't predict, that's what I would call legendary. Surely, a movie like that should have a legendary casting too."

"I see you keep taking about things you do not know. You keep talking about a movie you haven't seen and the casting of a sequel you don't know."

"...You have a fair point, but I can tell that the casting is very safe. To cast the cute actor as the protagonist and the beautiful sexy one as the villain. They didn't really take any risks."

"Perhaps you weren't paying attention to what I said before,” he groaned. “You have to understand the visuals that suit the atmosphere. A group of elementary children singing metal will look off."

"I actually want to hear that."

"Forget it, your taste is too extreme to understand my point," he grimaced, giving up on trying to get through her thick skull.

“I guess… though I find it sad that for all the boldness you have, you’re stuck with mainstream ideals. Though it seems to come with the industry. They are the ones with the money.”

"Suppose you are in charge of casting, Manager. Do you mean you would have me as lead instead?"

"I wouldn't have a prince charming as the lead in the first place. But the role would go to the one who acts the part better. Not just looks."

Vil looked at her with a stony expression, somehow her words stung and he felt uncomfortable.

"Though, if we have a hero like that, to cast you as the prince charming, the good hero they are picking Neige for... I would honestly prefer that. It's a risky decision, and many would question your casting, but if you were to sweep everyone's minds with your performance, you would win even more than if you went with a typical casting. There's a higher risk, but an even higher reward."

"Fufu, you still have no idea what you're talking about. Unfortunately, as much as your ridiculous idea sounds compelling, the truth is, Neige was cast as the main character."

"If it makes you feel better, I can write you as a main character in a story I make."

He smiled mockingly at her. "Ara, should I be touched? That a mere potato acting as a manager makes me her main character in her story? Focus on your studies."

"I mean, we can’t change things now, but if you were the hero and people questioned it, it's your job as the actor to prove them wrong."

"You sound awfully confident in my abilities."

"Is there a reason I shouldn't be?"

Vil was taken back. That was the most unexpected way to compliment someone, though he couldn't say he hated it. That said, she was incredibly annoying.

"You do enjoy talking about things you have no clue about."

"What I don't have a clue about? If I look carefully at you, I can tell you've honed yourself a lot."

"...what?"

"It's the way you conduct yourself.  To be this knowledgeable about food and skin care, about music too. Dancing styles, dance moves. There's a limit to natural talent. You could understand things in theory but you call them by their names, that doesn't come from simple experience.  Your pose is always perfect, both when you're walking and when you're fighting. To be able to have that degree of grace, you can't always do it unless you've trained yourself to be graceful. I get the feeling you're always pushing yourself to be perfect in any way. No matter what. Like you could be wearing burning shoes and you wouldn't show your pain."

He looked at her, she liked saying the oddest things. Why was she focusing on that? Normally, people commented directly on his beauty. He wasn’t used to being told this, he was doing only the necessary things to achieve his goal. The obvious things that no one focused on. That no one praised.

You didn't praise the method, you praised the results. The finished product. It didn't matter if you did your best when you failed. The result was all that mattered.

Just as he couldn’t beat Neige.

However, her words made him uncomfortable. Was she offering a cheap clap on the back as his fate, and he hated that word, was to be the loser? Some cheap, meaningless sympathy as an equally miserable bandage to his mortally wounded pride?

"What is your game, Manager? Is this some attempt to get along with me to further your goals?"

She huffed, visibly frustrated and annoyed at him, when he should be the one groaning at her and her nonsensical questioning. "You know, you're really smart but you're horribly stubborn. I'm not dissing you. Damn this school. You're all a huge bunch of weirdos, you're always focusing on the oddest stuff."

"As if you can truly say that to me."

"Really? Riddle got so angry about breaking even the most ridiculous inconsequential rules that the Queen of Hearts made. I get things like ‘Don't run with scissors in the hall’, because you can actually get hurt, but the color of roses? The tea you serve after 6? That's just showing off your power in meaningless bullshit. It alienates people instead of making them like you. He is devoted and meticulous, except he's focusing on the stupid stuff.

“Leona is capable, he's actually smart and he could be an excellent student and magift player but he can't be bothered to do anything because he doesn't want to be compared to others. Well, duh, you're always going to be compared. Damned if you do it, damned if you don’t, it’s way better to be damned for doing your thing. The rest can go fuck off. It’s not like they are going to do things for you, and they won’t live your life.”

Was she trying to get on his good side by dissing everyone?

“Azul, for all the intelligence he has, is a big idiot. All the effort he made to hide his past, just to crumble because of a photo. Why would you want to alter it so much that you're no longer yourself? I don't understand. He could see how far he had come and how much he had improved himself, that the Azul in that picture, who was extremely cute mind you, would be just proud of who he had grown into. But no, he had to drag everyone with those shady contracts, trick everyone to profit off them, try to trick me instead of asking for help like a fucking normal person. I would have helped him without any of this idiot contract bullshit if he was just sincere and not an incredibly fucking shady yakuza.

“Jamil. Don't get me started on him, I'm still salty about it. It's a custom in his country, I understand that. His parents were in the wrong, I understand that but. Did he really have to try to fucking kill us? In the bloody desert?! Not to mention, he had Kalim, KALIM! Kalim wouldn't have minded that Jamil told him the truth about him having to play the incompetent servant when he's like a fucking genius. Getting average grades on purpose is really hard, you have to be super smart to do that! Hell, Kalim would have been the first one to support him if he knew the truth! Kalim trusted him, Jamil was his best friend. He even forgave him. With Kalim at his side, things would have been different. But no, Jamil had to fake this shady nice persona to get us to like him, then use everyone for his stupid nonsense and instead of talking! Like normal people! Attempted murder! Of course that is the right answer."

Her rant made him furious. It wasn’t her ranting about the others, as several of them, like Leona, were annoying in many degrees. It was because it showed how she saw the other students, and it made him wonder how she would later see him.

How would she casually dismiss all his struggles?

"I wish I had this much drive to care about stupid shit."

"You are exactly as Leona and Azul said you were,” he replied, wanting furiously to slap her, to make her shut up, “an obnoxious brat who talks as if she knows everything. Casually dissing everyone while supposedly praising them? I thought you were supposed to be a good quiet prefect. Your opinion doesn't matter."

"It does matter because when you die, you can't do anything of these things. You could fall off your broom next class, crack your skull and die, but all you worried about was an idiot meaningless thing, instead of doing what you really wanted."

Vil stared at her, shocked for a moment, her words a slap to his face. He didn't expect them nor the tone she used, a clear-headed but extremely heartfelt answer. It was rational, not spat out in the heat of the moment, almost a product of actual experience.

It was in that moment he realized she genuinely meant what she said before. She was genuinely praising his efforts, the things no one else even considered. And he wasn’t sure how he should feel. He was feeling annoyed, he could imagine her ranting about him next.  'You are an idiot, trying to best Neige in being the fairest.'

But what was the thing she would compliment him on as well?

The answer would have to haunt him, because he was not going to ask her about himself. He was scared of that answer. He was scared of being focused on something wrong, of being told his path was wrong from the start.

He had devoted himself to being the fairest of them all for so long, just to be told it was an impossible task from the start. The effort he put into it would be absolutely meaningless, as they weren’t in a fairy tale, and even if they were, they weren’t its main characters.

“Manager,” he said in a tone that he himself couldn’t discern. It was such, though, that Ann quickly cooled down from her rant, going from emboldened to suddenly stay silent, and hesitant. “I will not repeat myself. Stop talking as if you understand my feelings. You don’t know me, I don’t know you. All you need to know is that you have to devote yourself to the VDC.”

“But… I thought-”

“Yes, you always ‘thought’. Whatever you thought, you are wrong. Stop delving into others’ personal affairs.”

He saw her opening her mouth, but he wouldn’t entertain her any longer. She had damaged him enough, making him fear for a moment of his own goals, to let her destroy his shaking beliefs and crumbling confidence. With a fierce glare, hiding his inner turmoil as he had always done, the iron mask befitting a queen, he looked down on her once before leaving her alone, with only the wind to listen to whatever useless opinion she had to share.

-

This was a challenging fic to write given the limited information we’re given, at the time ofc, about Neige and the nature of the casting, as well as his personality. It was also interesting for me because it’s part of the culmination of the previous chapters. Vil is a very perceptive person and he would normally recognize when someone is genuinely praising him. However, in an overblotting state, where he is stressed and second-guessing himself, it wouldn’t be that hard to see that he finds it difficult to trust strangers, especially someone like Ann.

Ann herself is not entirely right either. She has good points about the others and about Vil, but she tends to see things from her own perspective and how she strongly feels, in particular to people like Azul due to her own personal reasons and past. Hence, she can’t sometimes really relate to things that oppose to what she believes and feels. Because she is also blunt, while well-intentioned, she can come off as obnoxious and intrusive, especially with how she words things. Basically both right now are not well emotionally and logically to reach an agreement and see each others’ points. But Vil wouldn’t be well right now because we’re in the middle of Pomefiore arc, F.

Thank you for reading!

[ratspberry]

many naruto thoughts head overloading

ok im only like 20 episodes into shippuden and i skipped a Lot of filler in original naruto bc i do not have the patience </3 (i will come back to the filler one day though) and while i love this anime theres so much i wish... was not written how it is

first of all sakura... i love her sm and i just wish her character was given some more care like at this point in shippuden im actually really enjoying the direction shes taken but i heard a lot of her growth is sidelined when sasuke comes back into the picture and thats my biggest issue. im sorry but if youre going to introduce a TRIO of main characters i want to see that main group equally fleshed out. first going all the way back to the beginning i wish that sakura was allowed to fight??? like we KNOW shes super smart and has powerful chakra so even when at that time she wasnt the most skilled fighter (as far as we KNOW at least. given that we barely got to see her fight who knows!) she couldve in the very least played a similar role to that of shikamaru as far as leadership and strategizing. and ok her crush on sasuke should have dissipated a lot more after the chunin exams. even though i do hate to see her spend so much time fawning over sasuke when hes not even particularly kind to her i think a crush in the beginning could still work IF the moment of her cutting her hair (“sasuke likes girls with long hair”) and her battle w ino during the chunin exams were like an eye-opening moment for her when she was like “wtf am i doing i am going to work hard as a ninja to prove that i can do this to MYSELF and MY RIVAL first” (which. ok she does get to this point later and again i love her learning chakra and getting strong as HELL during her training w tsunade but again. i want to see that REMAIN parallel to the enormous power level leaps that sasuke and naruto make. also let sakura and ino have a fun friendship rivalry that has nothing to do w sasuke) . i think it would be better if she naruto and sasuke were just friends who ALL help and motivate each other. and so when sasuke leaves sakura is STILL super fucked up over it and maybe even has a hard time trusting naruto again after he comes back? (but ofc she eventually does bc power of friendship) like IDK loss of one best friend, then almost immediately after your other best friend (who u just learned secretly is sealed w the nine tails and the akatsuki is after him just like orochimaru was after sasuke) leaves you for THREE YEARS??? kind of a salt in the wound moment! also im simply not even going to touch on all the comphet marriages in the end

next im going to talk about rock lee my friend rock lee who i adore. anyways he either should not have foregone the surgery from tsunade or died from it. HEAR ME OUT! this surgery was good in showing how powerful tsunade is as a healer but like? was it necessary? after she brought naruto back to life??? as far as lees characterization his whole thing is that he may not have special jutsu or the same prodigal abilities as his peers but he can still be as powerful or more powerful! and idk i hate when characters have serious life changing stuff done to them and not seeing it fully explored in the story. like ok so we’ve got tsunade telling lee (who cant be older than 12? 13?) theres a 50/50 chance he’ll die in the surgery to heal him. and then guy ENCOURAGES HIM, HIS FAVORITE STUDENT, to go through with the surgery so he could then go on to be a ninja and continue risking his life?????? so i thought that was pretty screwed up. which leads me to the two paths that i think would be interesting to see play out: 1. lee doesnt get the surgery, but continues to train as a ninja. his injuries still exist but lee learns to fight WITH the injuries and creates a really cool badass unique fighting style and goes on to be a great ninja like he dreamed 2. lee dies in surgery. id hate it i would and i dont WANT lee to die but it might be a fuckin wakeup call to all these adult ninjas urging kids into warfare. lee is beloved by all so it would be a good moment of pause for everyone to think like “ummm so the systems that be are kind of majorly fucked up.”

those are the two main ideas i had but heres a few misc things:

-jiraiya can be the author of as many trashy romance novels as he wants but him hitting on younger women and being like a peeping tom and UGH the way he was introduced w narutos ‘sexy jutsu’ is just. not good. take it out.

-let tsunade look her age. like the whole “she uses her chakra to make herself look young”? i dont buy it. i dont care that you just didnt feel like drawing a woman who looks over 20. you will do it anyways bc i said so.

-i dont dislike n/ruhina as much as i dislike s/susaku bc at least its clear theres a mutual respect and admiration there but hinata, like sakura, has so much more potential to be explored. idk if its looked at in filler or later in shippuden (id sure hope so) but i think her parallel to sasuke is kind of interesting? both have intimidating, extremely powerful older brothers (i know neji is technically hinatas cousin or smth but whatever older brother figures. also i know hinatas sister is also supposed to be super powerful but idk her yet) who are held in high esteem by their families and have all this pressure on their shoulders to want to surpass them? given that neji didnt um. do the things itachi did clearly its not the SAME between hinata and sasuke but i feel like examining the hyuga family dynamics would be SO interesting in comparison to sasukes arc. i didnt mind seeing hinata motivated by naruto the first few times but like. there is SO MUCH MORE THERE than JUST hinatas relationship to naruto.

-all of these kids need therapy but ESPECIALLY sasuke like the signs were there. halfway thru the bell test thing SUPER early on sasuke went into a full-fledged “i am an avenger.. i have to kill a certain someone” monologue and given the fact that everyone knows his entire clan was killed and that sasuke is likely VERY traumatized... who thought it was a good idea to let him become a ninja before addressing any of that. my god. like i love kakashi and i know he has his own devestating backstory and that hes a product of the system but why the Fuck would he let sasuke take the chunin exams. give team 7 a year more of training and getting to know each other and give sasuke some time to create bonds and maybe even open up emotionally and begin to heal and then MAYBE we can THINK ab chunin exams.

-asuma and ino apologize to choji for telling him not to eat as much challenge? did asuma not know that chojis clan uses food to replenish their chakra? it would make sense if ino didnt know but chojis teacher?? either way still p fucked, leave choji alone

-speaking of ino i want more of her character tok. why was she not included in that mission to save sasuke that shikamaru, her TEAMMATE, led?? was there an explanation for that?? i feel like her not being there was a missed opportunity for some real growth/bonding between team 10.

-speaking of the last bullet point shikamaru being like “ugh women 🙄” is tired and boring. very misogynistic “i hate my wife” facebook dad humor. cut that shit out

-orochimarus coding and his whole um. intent as a villain is just very. Hm. i dont think i like that very much but im not going to go into it bc im sure its been touched upon a million times

[pro-bee]

Ziva David Week Day 2: Favourite episode

I’m gonna cheat here and pick 2, because they go together: Hiatus Part 1 & 2.

(Once again, all screencaps courtesy of NCIS Source. Part 1 and Part 2)

I love Ziva in these two episodes, because we get insight into her feelings in a way we haven’t really so far in the series at this point, and I think it sets up so much of what comes later on, arguably even into the present day.

Yes, the story focuses mainly on Gibbs’ and his amnesia, and Ziva doesn’t have as large a role in these episodes as she would later on, but her scenes pack a punch, and her presence is what ultimately brings the Gibbs they all know and love back. 

We get to see Ziva run the whole gamut of emotions, from lighthearted to devastated to snarky to angry to compassionate, and each moment is allowed its own time to shine. It’s quite surprised watching this with the benefit of hindsight to see how integral her role is to the story, especially towards Gibbs, given that at this point she is the newest team member. As we come to learn, though, she also has the most unique connection of any of them to their fearless leader.

I love how the episode opens up with the Three Musketeers on what they think is just another stakeout, teasing each other about movies and generally being idiots.

I mean, how adorable is Ziva when Tony makes the “Sound of Music” reference and she lights up, because she loves that movie? It’s a shame Tony shushed her when she was about to belt out the theme, because as we now know, Ziva’s got some pipes on her. (If only you knew, Tony.)

Ziva was allowed to be jokey and funny and even girly at times in the early episodes, and it’s moments like this where you can actually see how young Ziva is, despite her demeanour. She is competent and professional, but she is also only what, 23 at this point? Most young women her age are still hanging out with their friends at bars on weekends between studying for finals or working their entry-level jobs, whereas she’s trying to save the world from bad guys. She’s so serious so much of the time that it tickles me when we get to see this playful side to her, and not in the “flirty with Tony until he starts sweating” kind of way, but in an almost childlike, joyful manner.

Of course, it’s short-lived in this episode, because Gibbs gets himself blown up right in front of them and all hell breaks loose.

After that, we see Ziva go right into professional mode, and we bump into the first of many conflicts about the outside world’s assumptions about her.

Ducky is the first (of many) to question her ability to feel affection and compassion, when he is astounded that she didn’t ask the paramedics which hospital they took Gibbs to. Ziva rightfully answers that she had a job to do, that once she made sure Gibbs was being taken care of by medical professionals, she then moved onto her job, which was to immediately secure the crime scene -- which is exactly what Gibbs would have done. She knew he was in good hands so she worked on what she was good at, because she had a mission to accomplish.

(lol sidebar, I had my first aid recert the other week and the trainer was emphasizing how your job as first on the scene is to administer cpr until the medical professionals arrive, but when they do take over, your job is done, you can’t carry that with you because you don’t have the training they do, you do your best and that’s enough -- and I feel like that’s exactly the mindset Ziva has.)

Of course, once Ziva pointedly tells him she was a little busy dealing with a fucking explosion to remember to ask which hospital Gibbs was at, Ducky absentmindedly says that Tony or McGee will know, and that stings, because it’s the first of many implications that she doesn’t care enough, and they do. Which we all know is false, but this is a running theme in the show (as we talked about yesterday with Damon’s episode) about how the Ziva the world seems to see isn’t who she really is inside, and she struggles to show herself in ways people understand, because she isn’t outwardly demonstrative in the manner that, say, Abby is. 

“Ziva I’m not implying you don’t care. I know you care.”

It’s too late though, because the words have already sunk in. You don’t care. We all know that’s not true, and Ziva knows it’s not true, but that is all people see of her, and it rattles her.

Never mind that a year ago, before she moved to the US, that would probably be seen as an asset to her father, an indication that she can detach to get the job done. But as we now know, she never really could detach -- she just repressed. That no one would have questioned whether she cared enough to remember which hospital her coworker was at -- but that’s also because no one probably cared enough about her as a person to question her own motives. 

But now she has something to hold onto. She cares about these people, and she cares what they think, which is why it’s so frustrating when she doesn’t seem to be living up to their expectations.

I feel so much for her here, because we know that she is just doing her job. The best thing she can do right now is to investigate, like she’s been trained to do for the last year, because that is what they need to do to help Gibbs. But her cooler head prevailing kind of exposes the downside of how close their unit is, because when her doing her job is seen as suspicious, it exposes them to greater troubles in times of crisis like these.

Meanwhile, what impresses me so much is precisely how quickly Ziva jumps into action. She is really fucking good at her job. This job that she chose, for the first time in her life, and one she loves. She gets shit done, fast. She is the one who secures the crime scene, directs technicians to their posts, surveys what equipment they need and where, all before Ducky gets there. She has absolutely flourished under Gibbs’ wing, and even just this short time later, she is already demonstrating leadership qualities.

Case in point: when they’re back on the ship, Ziva is the one who is able to survey the scene of the explosion and identify its similarities to a suicide bomber, both because of her own experience growing up in Israel and being a part of Mossad, I’m sure, but also because she has been observing and studying over this past year. While McGee is sick at the sight of blood, unable to really do his job to its fullest here, it’s Ziva who kind of takes charge, and plays second to Tony’s Agent in Charge. (No slight on McGee -- it’s just further evidence of how Ziva has taken to this, and that her background is an unfortunate asset to her in this kind of work.) I think that Tony recognizes that, too.

Yet, a quiet moment that is oddly beautiful is when they are at the crime scene, and Ziva notices that it’s raining.

It’s such a tonal shift from the rest of the scene, but it’s like the rain is so soothing to her, especially in that moment. I’m not quite sure why this stands out so much, why they made a point of her being comforted by that. Is it because she would welcome the rain on the rare times it happened when she was a kid? Is it because it’s going to wash away the wreck of the day? Does it offer her a clean slate? Who knows! She just seems transfixed in a way that is un-Ziva-like.

So it goes for both of the episodes: It is Ziva’s professionalism that actually helps them, and we really see her investigative skills shine. I imagine that is because the work gives her something to focus on when everything and everyone else seem to be falling apart. But the great thing is that this is the whole reason she came to NCIS, whether she intended for it to be or not: she is making choices for herself and thinking for herself. She gets to take charge on leads and check into things that don’t feel right. She has gained an independence of body and mind in DC that she never really knew she needed when she was still working for her father. 

She’s on a roll, here. She’s fired up about the case, not only because it directly involves Gibbs, but because she’s looking at the puzzle and knows something isn’t right. “What is wrong with this picture?” she asks, because she realizes the track they’re on doesn’t make sense, regardless of whatever issues are going in within the team. And when she points all that out, I love that Tony has her back: “Damn good summation.” Because he can tease her as much as he’d like, but he had no problem admitting when she is right, and that’s what he needs.

And another thing I love about this, because I am Tiva trash (although this isn’t a Tiva episode) is that it quickly becomes evident how bonded Tony and Ziva are, too. Not just in a romantic sense, but professionally-speaking as well. For instance, from the outset, Abby is quick to remind Tony that he is not Gibbs, even though as senior agent he is in charge. There’s an air of petulance to it, knocking him down for being too haughty, but the thing is, he is doing his job. (In retrospect, these are... really not good episodes for Abs.) So other people joke about Tony impersonating Gibbs, but Ziva is the only one who backs him up, and not in a dramatic, show-y fashion, but through her actions. She doesn’t doubt him, she follows his lead, she does as she’s told not because she’s a doormat, but because she knows what they have to all do to move the investigation along, and she knows that Tony knows and that is why he is ordering them. (That may be the impetus for a fanfic I wrote years ago lol.)

In turn, it also becomes obvious how much Tony has come to rely on Ziva, too. Throughout the episode, she becomes the one he bounces ideas off of, confides in over his suspicions that they’re missing something.  He knows that Ziva is the only one who doesn’t resent him, doesn’t make fun of him for throwing ideas out there, actually treats him like he is their boss, albeit in the interim. It’s not just because they like to flirt or get into each other’s pants, it’s because they’re both professionals and recognize that in each other, especially in this time of crisis.

But, they are indeed in a time of crisis, and all this emotional upheaval does eventually get to our baby agent.

First, we had the accusation by Ducky, and then later on, after an ill-advised attempt at black humour to Abby to defuse the tension, she is once again painted as an uncaring robot. (Like I said... this is not Abby’s finest hour.) It all leads to her mini-breakdown in the bathroom, when everything comes to a head. I’m struck now by how soft the scene is, how positively young and vulnerable Ziva is -- splashing her face with water, eyes full of tears, trying to get a hold of herself. How despite her no-nonsense demeanour, she is barely an adult herself, not that far removed from her girlhood dreams and traumas. And the very thing she does to be helpful -- sticking to the task at hand -- is what is isolating her from everyone around her.

She is hurt. 

Hurt that she is misunderstood. Hurt that people she’s come to consider friends  don’t seem to trust her. Hurt that she has no one to confide in.

We rarely see Ziva cry on this show, and this might be the softest moment she ever gets to experience. The memories she replays as she stares at her reflection -- Ducky insisting Tony and McGee would know when she wouldn’t, Abby’s anger at her -- are what she worries she reflects to the world. It is so heartbreaking to watch.

What it demonstrates, though, is how lost Ziva is without Gibbs there. How they all are. But what this arc does is show that Gibbs is the only one at this point who truly gets her. He did from day one, the second she pulled the trigger on Ari. He saw who she really was, the depths of her convictions, and he’s offered her a safe port in the storm of her life. And now on her own, without him to steady her course, she’s adrift. Because I think what these episodes show is that yes, Ziva has grown immensely and been allowed to blossom at NCIS, but she’s done so because Gibbs’ guidance to their whole team has given her the safe space and confidence to be who she is. Without him there to give her a safety net, she’s back to being just another soldier.

I don’t mean that in the sense that she does everything for him despite what the show will imply years later. What I mean is that like anyone else lucky enough to have a supportive parent, Gibbs’ presence in her life has given her the reassurance to be who she is, not who the world thinks she should be. Without him there, she is weighed down by others’ perceptions of her, and she starts internalizing them. (Which, holy shit, ends up coming back in season 17. Is this our first glimpse of anxiety-ridden Ziva?)

She is desperate to get him back, because that is the only way to get herself back

“What can I do?”  “Remember!”

Which is why she is the one who later confronts Amnesiac!Gibbs in his hospital room, because she is so desperate to get him back, to get herself back. It is so significant to the show’s canon that Ziva is the one to finally jog his memory, and again it is not a slight against the other characters, or an indication that she is better than them all (although personally I do think so because she is my favourite after all).

It’s not that he doesn’t love the others as much, or that his longer and deeper history with them isn’t as important. It’s that he and Ziva shared a profound experience together unlike any of the others, and that forged a deep connection. The second Ziva pulled the trigger on Ari, she sealed their fate. (Again which is why I hate the season 7 retcon of her actions, but ultimately the end result is that she shot him to save Gibbs, so it still mostly tracks.)

That leads to her even-bigger breakdown, because everything she’s been holding in for the last few days -- and ultimately for the last year -- comes to a head. Yes, she’s hurt over Gibbs’ accident and everyone’s dismissal of her, but really, she’s hurt over what happened with Ari which she’s never been allowed to process. She can’t deal with it at home in Israel because Ari was a loose cannon, a traitor who needed to be terminated. She can’t deal with it in DC, because there he was a villain who took the life of one of their own. 

But to her, he was her brother. The brother she loved and who she thought loved her, the one she grew up idolizing and shadowed professionally, the one she fought tooth and nail to save until she realized there was no choice. And she is never, ever allowed to grieve that. For fuck’s sake, we later learn that their own father ordered his execution. I would guess there probably wouldn’t be much thought to, you know, trauma counselling for his family, including Ziva, for what he put them through, or dealing with having to be the one to stop him. I imagine Eli’s advice was to forget about it and move on, which is part of why Ziva had to get the fuck out of Tel Aviv. 

(Sidebar: in my head canon, in the later years at some point post-Tiva, they’d be sitting around talking about things and the subject of Ari would come up, and Ziva would kind of clam up about it, and when Tony would ask her about it, she’d be like, “I know you guys don’t want to ever hear about him, because he was the monster who killed Kate, but... he was also my brother. He was the guy who taught me how to ride a bike and took me for car rides just to listen to music for hours and hours when things got bad between my mother and father and I can’t separate that from who he became. And I can’t ever say any of that out loud because what he did was awful but... he was my brother.”)

“What are you talking about?” “Ari! Ari killed Kate. And I... I killed Ari.” “... Your brother.” “Yes.” “You killed your brother to save me.”

This is just such a huge moment for them.

Because for Ziva, that is probably the first time she’s said those words out loud since it happened. And it’s probably the first time she’s let that grief spill out of her.

Probably the first time someone has comforted her for her loss.

And it is so, so important for her that someone recognizes that. That someone acknowledges the magnitude of what happened, of how it broke her. Of how she’s still broken.

That is the only moment of warmth anyone has shown her all episode, and frankly all series to date.

This isn’t Ziva with no feelings. This is Ziva with feelings so deep she can’t handle them, and they come bursting out in a giant fit of anguish. It’s such a monumental moment for her character, because it reflects all of what has happened in the season leading up to this point. Ziva hasn’t talked about Ari at all since she joined NCIS, since that moment in the elevator where Gibbs recognized what she did for him, and why she needed to break free and start over in DC, far away from her father. 

Because I imagine that to her father and Mossad, what she did was treated as professional. That she did her job.

But this wasn’t a job.

She killed her own brother to save another man.

A man who was a total stranger to her, but one who she knew to be good, and more importantly, the confirmation that her brother was not good, that he was not the man she thought he was, and that if she didn’t stop him, he was going to ruin other people’s lives.

(No wonder Ziva is still consumed with anxiety almost 15 years later.)

Ultimately, the reason Ziva’s breakdown triggers Gibbs’ memory again is because she gives him something to come back for. Gibbs was lost without Shannon and Kelly when he was in his first coma in 1991, and all these years later, his doctors have said that there’s no good reason for him to still be stuck in the past in his brain, because his injuries were not severe enough to warrant it. But he stays there because he can’t live without Shannon and Kelly. But here is Ziva, the woman who saved his life, chose his over that of her own family, and she is laying her emotions bare in front of him. And she needs him. That protection he offered her that night in his basement gave her a reason to live, and him as well. 

Reminding him of Ari was reminding herself of what she did, how she was in pain just like he was, and she needed a light to guide her way back. And it turns out he needed that too.

(Can you tell this is one of my favourite scenes ever?)

Ziva have him a reason to come back.

Which he does, thanks to her, and eventually they do solve their case, even if it ends in disaster, which in turn prompts him to leave the job behind. 

(OT: I have always loved how much trust Gibbs puts in Tony in his absence, how he entrusts Tony with the team when he decides to “retire”. TONY IS A GOOD TEAM LEADER AND THAT IS THE TEA. He did not deserve the crap he got from Abby and McGee about it. Again, Ziva is the only one who recognizes it.)

“I owe you, Ziva.” “I’ll collect, Jethro.” 

This is just so soft. Again, Ziva is still in a raw state, and she’s teary-eyed as she watches him give his goodbyes, then eventually to her. (Also, thank goodness this is the only time she calls him “Jethro” because it just sounds weird coming from any of the agents.) It is the most sincere and the most loaded of the goodbyes, because they have just shared another monumental experience together, alone, and it cuts deeply. 

Which is why today, in the year of our lord two-thousand-and-nineteen, we are still dealing with the aftermath of this. 

How their relationship is still this charged and steeped in personal trauma but also in this wartime-like spirit of saving your comrade in arms. 

How it’s natural that Ziva feels so hurt at Gibbs “abandoning” her (whether you agree with her or not), because once upon a time he was the person who saved her soul and help her heal, and gave her the opportunity to follow her own heart and her own path, and she ended up feeling lost without that. (Again, it’s up to you to believe if that is truly the case, but I think the point the show has made is that Ziva believes it, which this episode cemented.)

How Ziva is still riddled with guilt and self-doubt, who still believes she is a lost cause when people accuse her of being unfeeling. 

How Ziva’s heart is actually so huge, and it’s a miracle she found her place in NCIS so that she could start letting the world know it.

It’s just... I have so many feelings about these scenes, and I could still talk about it for hours, but Day 2 is almost Day 3 and I gotta get this posted.

But I had to get this off my chest, because these episodes are SO IMPORTANT for her character. We learn a little bit about her and a lot about her heart, and she takes the lead as the emotional centre of the story for the arc. Because she remembers. 

----

Also more unrelated thoughts about why I love these episodes:

Ziva was allowed to be funny and lighthearted early on and I miss it. 

“What if those were Gibbs’ guts smushed all over that room?” The colour would be more coffee brown than red.” ZIVA! ZIVA IS SO FUNNY! Ah, gallows humour. I understand Abby was upset but THAT WAS A DAMN FUNNY JOKE. Again, Ziva was allowed to be so much funnier in first few seasons and it’s a shame the show wrote that out of her and replaced it with more trauma.

(Also the slap-fest was such a token male fantasy and it was gross. Stop it, Show.)

(But Abby deserved it a little because she was hysterical.)

“Never doubt an Israeli about diamonds” I don’t even know if that is an actual thing or just a Ziva-ism they made up, but, lol, Ziva sure does know a lot about diamonds for a girl who lives in cammo half the time. I know her dad taught her a lot about them bla bla bla secret slush funds I don’t care, Ziva is girly sometimes. Someone better put a ring on it.

We get to see Ziva use her considerable language skills in this episode! 

Including French!

Ziva can and will fuck your shit up:

[intothestarkerverse]

Time of Our Lives (Part Four)

Based on a prompt from @geekymarvel  

Peter is tasked with an important mission that requires him to go back in time.   Finding himself at a gala for Stark industries in the 1990’s, he comes face to face with a young and incorrigible Tony Stark who considers Peter’s attempts to deny his advances a challenge.  Now, dogged by a horny young CEO who won’t take no for an answer, Peter’s task has become much more difficult….

(STORY CONTAINS ENDGAME SPOILERS)

Read on AO3

Despite Tony’s warning, Peter had dissolved into a stuttering mess of unintelligible syllables that when strung together made little to no sense in any earthly language.  It was only the sharp feeling of a slap against his cheek that drew Peter’s garbled babbling to a stop.  “Ouch!” He forgot to be flustered and afraid in the wake of his indignation.  Which…had probably been Tony’s plan all along, come to think of it.

“Snap out of it, Peter, I’d rather lock you in my room than in a jail cell, so spit it out already!”

Peter could hear the sound of footsteps, several of them, the static of a radio, the sound of guns being drawn from holsters.  It was too late, they were only yards away.  “You saved the world but now there’s a complication and I’m the only one you trusted to come back here and stop it and I need a machine you were going to destroy in that incinerator and I was supposed to get it but they stole it and I need to get it back or the whole universe is going to cease to exist in 2023.”  Peter’s run-on sentence came out in a rush of words with barely a pause between them, but Tony was able to follow the declaration without much trouble…or so it seemed.  

“Suit off, kid.”  He tapped the armor of Peter’s suit with his index finger and Peter deactivated it, the armor melting back into the watch as Tony reached out, loosening Peter’s bow tie expertly with one hand while he ripped Peter’s dress shirt open with the other.  Buttons popped and flew in every direction and Peter let out a little squeak of disapproval.  “Play along, baby.”  Tony hissed, “You too, Hogan, if you want to keep that promotion.”

“Yes, Sir.”

As the agents burst into the room with orders to freeze, put hands up, and every other cliche Peter had ever heard or seen on a procedural on network  television, Tony Stark pushed him back several steps until his back collided with a wall.  One hand was skimming the skin of Peter’s now exposed chest, fingers tracing every muscle, finger nails leaving faint white tracks over his pecs and down his abs as Tony’s other hand got a firm grasp on his chestnut curls and pulled his head roughly to the side.  Peter clawed at Tony’s back, hands fisting around handfuls of his bespoke tuxedo jacket.  Tony’s lips pressed a warm wet trail over his throat, teeth and tongue pinching and lapping and sucking at the skin until Peter was whimpering and forgetting that there were probably a couple dozen people in the room.

Silence.

It would have been possible to hear a pin drop, though with the lack of pins in the room at the moment it was more the sound of Tony’s mouth on Peter’s skin that was the only noise breaking the awkward hush in the room.  That was, of course, until someone cleared their throat rather loudly.

Tony paused, hovering over Peter’s throat so that his warm breath was drying the sloppy trail of kisses and bruises he’d left behind. Slowly, he drew back, turning around to face the agents who were wearing a combination of expressions.  Some were amused, some were turned on, most were baffled and a couple looked incredibly annoyed.

Peter was trying to make his brain work again.  All of the blood had rushed from one head to another and he wasn’t sure he was even capable of speech at the moment, but Tony was still holding onto him, an arm sliding around his waist and pulling him in close as they faced the agents.  Peter looked up at Tony with hooded eyes, pupils blown wide by arousal.  What the fuck was he planning, and did it involve more of that?  Please say it involved more of that.

“We got a call that you were being robbed.”  One of the agents stepped forward, speaking with an authoritative tone and with a no nonsense demeanor that Peter could tell was setting Tony’s nerves on edge.  Just the way the man’s jaw set at the statement told Peter that the poor agent was in for it now.  Looking back at the government agent, Peter squinted and frowned.  Did he look familiar too?  Maybe.  Maybe but he couldn’t quite place him…there was something different about him and he just couldn’t put a finger on it…Oh!

Oh, oh!  

Not a finger.  

An eye!

Well, two eyes, actually.  

Huh, weird.

Tony raised an eyebrow, “You did?”

“You tellin’ me you didn’t send your security guard to call us in over some covert, armored foreign operative stealing weapons from Stark Industries in the middle of your fancy dress ball upstairs?”

Tony laughed.  He laughed so hard that his whole body shook and he pulled Peter closer, nuzzling into his hair and nipping at his ear.  Peter’s eyes flickered closed for a moment, his whole body leaning into the man before Tony spoke again, so close to his ear that it was almost jarring.  It was a stage whisper, meant to sound like something private between the two of them but clearly for everyone to hear nonetheless.  “Do you hear that, Baby?  Happy thought our little role play was real?  Isn’t he silly, Sweetheart?”

“Happy’s so, so silly.”  Peter had no idea what was happening, but he’d been told to play along and playing along with whatever Tony’s plan happened to be felt better than just about anything else he’d ever felt in his whole damn life.  He’d say just about anything Tony wanted him to say in that moment.

“Role play?”  The agent did not sound remotely as pleased as Peter was at the moment.

“Yeah, you know…when you and your lover play pretend to make things a bit more fun.  Peter here wanted me to catch him in the act of stealing from the company and punish him…”

“Tony forgot the handcuffs, though.”  With a little burst of inspiration now that Peter understood where this was going, he attempted to add his own flare to the tale they were telling and put on a petulant little pout for the agents.  He caught the look of amusement Tony shot him and felt the hand still draped around his waist drop to give his ass a squeeze that made him squirm.

“I’m sorry, Baby.  I blew it.  And I promised to blow you to make up for it.  But maybe we can borrow one of the agents’ cuffs…now that they’re here…”  Tony seemed only too happy to encourage Peter to play along.

“Wasting government resources isn’t a joke, Stark.”

“Never said it was.  Didn’t waste ‘em, either, if you recall…that’s all my security guard’s fault.”  Tony was so glib.  Peter loved it.  God, he’d missed Tony’s sass.  He’d missed so damn much about the man, and the longer he spent with this younger version of Tony, the more of his own Tony he could see in him.

“In my defense, the kid is a very good actor and what I overheard sounded very convincing.”  Was Happy trying to save face?  Peter almost felt sorry for him.  Almost.  He kinda had it coming though, what with the May situation…

“Even though this happens to be the help’s fault, I’m willing to accept responsibility for my lover’s superior acting skills.  Send me a bill for whatever money you wasted showing up here…but give me a set of those handcuffs before you go and do go…sooner the better…we were in the middle of something pretty sexy before you showed up.  Unless you want to stay and watch.  I’m not opposed to an audience, are you, Sweetheart?”

Peter could feel himself blushing again, but he angled his face away from the agents and hid it by leaning into Tony’s shirt.  Emboldened by Tony’s encouragement, Peter was willing to go a step further.  “I think we could put on a show for them…”  He felt Tony suck in a sharp breath as Peter bit down one of the buttons of his shirt and snapped the threads holding it in place just like he’d seen women do in movies when they were trying to be seductive.  He spit it out over Tony’s shoulder and looked up in time to hear the older man growl deep in his throat.

There was a lot of murmuring behind them and Peter could hear most of the agents retreating.  Most, but not all.

“Look here, Stark, if you’re playin’ some kind of game with us…I’m goin’ to find out.  You may think you’re some kind of genius but it’s going to take a lot more than you got to pull one over on me.”

“I accept the challenge, Agent…”

“Fury.”

“But you’re so cuddly!  Ironic.”  Tony chuckled, “Now, either pull up a chair and shut the fuck up or get the fuck out because I’ve got some fucking to do and you’re killing the mood, Agent Furry.”

“Fury.”

“Isn’t that what I said?  Seriously though…Get. The. Fuck. Out.”

“I’ve got my eye on you, Stark.”

Fury’s parting words had Peter dissolving into fits of hysterical laughter against Tony’s chest.

“Fuck kid, I don’t know what’s so funny, but you better be very happy that I’ve got such a bad reputation or that would have never worked.”  Tony’s words were spoken in a whisper, no doubt uncertain if they were still being observed.

His laughter over Fury’s unintended joke had managed to bring Peter out of his aroused stupor enough to remember what he needed to be doing at that moment, and unfortunately it was not fucking Tony Stark.  “But it did work, so I can track down that machine now and…”

“Nope.  Not tonight you’re not.  Did you not hear him, Peter?  He’s got his eye on us.”  Tony paused as Peter burst out laughing again.  “He’s going to have someone watching us at least for the rest of the night if not longer.  You do anything suspicious tonight and the jig is up.  So, you’re going to come back to my place and we’re going to make Fury think that we are doing exactly what we told him we’re doing and we’ll worry about this machine of yours in the morning when he’s hopefully lost interest in us.”

Peter wanted to argue, he really did.  He kept telling himself how much he needed to argue with Tony’s reasoning right up until the moment Tony was leading him into his home.  Then, Peter had to admit that maybe, just maybe, he was pleased that the night was theirs and they needed to convince federal agents that they were lovers.  He was kind of hoping that they were going to go to extreme lengths to make S.H.I.E.L.D buy into that story…

—

Tony saw his butler enter from the corridor.  The man was always too perspicacious for his own good and had likely been awaiting Tony’s return from the gala for quite some time.  The young CEO was both notorious for blowing off such stodgy functions early…and for bringing home unexpected guests.  Only the butler’s eyes gave away his lack of surprise and overabundance of disapproval at the party favor Tony had with him tonight.  He was maybe a little close to being too young for Tony, but four years was hardly scandalous.  If Tony had actually finished high school at a normal age, they could have even been in the institution at the same time, if only for a year.  Peter was hardly a child and most people who knew Tony Stark would argue that he was a far cry from an adult.  Himself included.  “Jarvis can take your jacket if you’d like, Sweetheart.”

Peter did an obvious double take, his mouth parted in an adorable little ‘o’ of disbelief.  “Jarvis?  For real?  You’re a person?”

“The last time I check, Sir.”  Jarvis’s tone was as dry as a good martini and Tony had to smile.

“Excuse the kid.  He’s a time traveler on a mission to the save the universe and apparently the future is weird.”

“Indeed, I anticipated nothing less.  Is the Tardis parked in the garage, then, Sir?”  One eyebrow arced questioningly as he looked to the young man at Tony’s side.  Tony heard the boy snicker.

“Delorean actually.”

“Yes, you do have more of a ‘Marty McFly’ aura about you.  Apologies, my mistake.”

“I really like him!”  Tony looked down, amused by Peter’s excited tone and the way he’d just grabbed Tony’s arm.  His impossible large doe eyes darted to Tony’s face as he no doubt realized what he had done and let go of Tony’s arm.

“The feeling is mutual, Sir.”  The simple phrase from the butler brought a rosy glow to Peter’s cheeks that made Tony want to trace the flush with his fingers.

“I’m glad my butler meets with your approval, Beautiful.”  Tony did not fail to catch the look on Jarvis’s face as he disappeared back into the corridor.  Tony knew when he’d been had.  Peter might not be able to read the affection in his eyes, but if there was anyone who knew the intricacies of Tony’s body language and the often labyrinthine nature of his personality, it was Edwin Jarvis.  It had not taken Peter long to charm the man who had been more of a father to Tony than Howard Stark had ever been, no doubt because Jarvis could see how utterly captivated Tony was with the kid.  Tony would never admit to anyone that he was pleased Peter had managed to turn distaste to approval in such record time, even if it was going to give Jarvis fodder to tease Tony for weeks or even months to come.

“Umm…”  Peter was fidgeting with the sides of his shirt which no longer sported buttons and had been hanging open since their encounter with S.H.I.E.L.D.  He seemed to be trying to find a way to pull it closed and keep it that way, though his efforts were failing.

“I would apologize for that if I were actually sorry I’d done it.  I don’t think you’re really sorry about it either.”

Peter gave up with a little shrug and turned around to examine the entryway, only turning when Tony offered to lead him to the living room.  Peter looked relieved to be somewhere with a seat and immediately took up residence on the sofa without waiting for an invitation from Tony.  The man had to chuckle to himself as he took the seat right next to the boy, making very little effort to keep any space open between them.  “So, I saw you plant something on that crate, didn’t I?  I assume it was a tracking device of some sort?”

“Yeah, oh yeah.”  Peter was nodding furiously, chestnut curls bouncing with the movement as he pulled down his sleeve to reveal his watch and tapped the face several times.  Tony found himself leaning forward with immense interest at the holographic display of the city that blinked to life in the air above the watch face.  Sadly, there was no indication of any tracking device and after several moments, an error message began to scroll across the display.  “Huh?  I don’t…”

“GPS uses satellite for positioning, Peter.  The satellite that your tracking device likely uses is not in orbit at the present time.”

“Shit.  I didn’t think of that.”

“Obviously.”  Tony held his hand out.  “Give me the watch, Sweetheart.  I’m working on A.I.  It’s a long way from being anything nearly as prolific as I’d like it to be, but I think I can put it work on your tracking device.  If the AI can ascertain the details about your nonexistent satellite, it can probably clone them and apply them to a Defense Department satellite we can commandeer long enough to find out where those men went.”

“Really?  You can access Defense Department satellites?”

“Baby, I hacked the Defense Department at 16 on a fucking dare.  They’ve yet to find a way to keep me out and they can’t put me in prison if they want new, shiny weapons of mass destruction to blow up our enemies with, now can they?”

“Guess not.”  Peter hesitantly removed the watch and held it out to Tony.  “Can you…just be careful?  I need it for the suit and other important stuff.”

“You’re really telling me to handle this thing with care, huh?  That’s where we’re at?”  He could only shake his head at the absurdity of that.  “Yeah, Peter, It’ll be fine.  I’m going to run down to the lab to get the  A.I. set up to find the solution to our little problem.  Just…make yourself at home.”

Tony told himself that he wasn’t in a hurry.  He certainly didn’t almost jog to the lab and back or tap his foot impatiently as the A.I. booted and set about preparing the tasks he had assigned.  When he returned to the living room, however, he was certainly man enough to admit that he skidded to a halt and stared in appreciation at what awaited him.

Jarvis had apparently seen fit to bring Peter a change of clothes after noting the disarray of his tuxedo.  Peter was now standing in the middle of the living room in nothing but a pair of red and gold boxer shorts with some sort of robot emblazoned on them.  He was clutching a pair of Tony’s sweat pants in his hands, a t-shirt thrown across the arm of the sofa waiting for Peter to put it on, but now he was just frozen…staring at Tony as Tony stared at him and delighted in the way Peter’s blush spread to his chest.  “I…uh…Mister Jarvis said you wouldn’t mind if I…”

“I mind.”  Tony was making no attempt to look away or alleviate the kid’s embarrassment.  “I’d much rather you not be wearing anything at all, but I guess if you have to wear clothes…my clothes sound like a decent compromise.”

Peter grimaced but finally tugged the sweat pants over his legs, tied the drawstring in a double knotted bow to keep the pants up over his more slender frame, and then sat down to roll the cuffs of the legs up once or twice.  Tony was pleased to see that he wasn’t in as big a hurry to don the shirt.  Good.  

“So..”  Tony let the word hang between them for a minute.  “You a super soldier or something?  They get that formula working again in the future or what?”

Peter let out a nervous giggle.  “Noooo…No, I’m no Captain America.  I was…um…bitten by a radioactive spider.”

Tony’s look was dubious and Peter apparently found the need to defend that statement.

“I know it sounds crazy but that’s really what happened.  I got really sick and then I got better and I could just do a lot of crazy things.  I know it sounds nuts right now, but trust me…you’ll meet people who’ve had way weirder stuff happen to them over radiation than just me.  I promise.”  He was quiet again for a moment, staring at Tony and seemingly at war with himself.  “Can I ask you something, Tony?”

“I’m clean.  No STDs.”

“Uh…no that’s not…I mean, good for you?  I guess.  I mean that’s good to know.  Not that…I need to know that…right now…or probably ever. Um, no, what I really wanted to know…”  Damn, the kid was reaching for the shirt and tugging it down over his head.  With as graceful and fluid as the boy was when he was fighting, there was something ridiculously awkward about the way he got dressed.  “I was actually wondering how you figured out about the time travel and stuff…”  His voice was muffled by the fabric of the shirt as he contorted to get it over his head and settle properly.

“Your watch.  I noticed it in the bathroom when were making out, something I’d very much like to revisit tonight.  There’s a Stark Industries logo on it.  It’s not a model I recognized.  At first I thought it might be a terrible knock off…and then you used it in the elevator.  See, that kind of technology, it’s a couple decades out from anything I have in the pipeline and since I think SI’s intergalactic sales are a little lax at the moment, you can’t be an alien.  That leaves the future.  Plus you said you couldn’t let me die ‘again’, and that’s a can of worms I’m not touching because no one needs to know how or when they die.  So that’s now I know you’re from the future.  As for how I know who sent you…Since I’m the only person in the world smart enough to crack time travel, it means that I had to be the one who got you here.”

“Hank Pym…”

“Hank Pym!  The guy’s a hack.  One discovery does not a genius make.  And if that bastard lucked into time travel, he sure as shit wouldn’t have sent you to me, Baby.”  Peter was just nodding slowly now that he was fully clothed once more, watching Tony with his head angled downward in a mock display of innocence that Tony found both endearing and obnoxious.  “Seriously, kid, you keep that coy act up and I’m going to give you something to be bashful about.”

“Promises, promises.”  Peter said it under his breath, dripping with that sarcasm that had only really come out when he was wearing his mask, and his cheeks flared a brilliant shade of rose the moment he realized Tony heard him.

“So…you just always this shy, Baby, or can I take this to mean that we’re not lovers back where you come from?”

Peter’s eyes widened considerably and he coughed nervously into his hand as he shook his head vigorously.  “Um, no, we’re not.  I mean you’re kind of old…er…than me.  By a lot.  And I don’t think you see me that way.  You treat me like a kid…it’s nice because you’re like the only father figure I have but also weird because I’ve been crushing on you for like…years…and there’s just…no spark on your end, you know?  I mean I’ve watched.  Pretty hard.  I really wanted there to be, but nope.  Sparkless.”

Tony stared at him in disbelief for a moment before rising from his seat to cross to the bar on the far side of the living room and pour himself several fingers of whiskey.  He held the bottle up questioningly to Peter who just shook his head again.  With a shrug, he retrieved a can of ginger ale from the mini-fridge beneath the bar that he sometimes used with bourbon and handed it over to the kid as he returned to his seat.  “So, what I’m going to take from this little revelation of yours is that I’m actually going to learn self control and grow a considerable set of morals in my…old age, was it?  Really didn’t think I had that in me.  Actually, I don’t think anyone thinks I have that in me.  So cheers to Old Man Stark and keepin’ it in his pants, hm?  I’m adequately impressed by my self control, cause Baby, unless I’m impotent in this future of yours, I gotta say that I’ve thought about you ‘that way’.  Don’t care how old I am.  How moral.  My sexual preferences are not going to change that much.  I’ve just…learned to be a better man than I am now.  Won’t the whole damn world be surprised by that one!  The question we’re faced with at this point is whether you have a daddy complex and you’re only interested in me when we’re flirting with this Lolita vibe you had going…or if you’re willing to take advantage of Tony Stark while he’s still…young, virile, and happy being a sinner.”

Tony watched Peter carefully, noting the way the boy opened his mouth to speak several times and then closed it again before uttering a single syllable.  It was adorable how conflicted he was, but Tony wasn’t sure he was going to be content to play with his food much longer.  He was literally getting gray hairs waiting for the kid to scream ‘Fuck Me’ and jump on him like a cat in heat which was more what he wanted than what he expected.  Finally, blushing again in the most comely way possible, Peter found his voice.  “It’s not…it’s not a daddy complex.  I…definitely still think you’re…really hot…now.”

“Not old, you mean.”

“Yeah, not old…”  Peter rubbed at the back of his neck swallowing hard and suddenly looking everywhere in the room but at Tony directly.

“Good, because I think we’ve established that I think you’re one of the prettiest things I’ve ever seen.  And since we have to convince the government that we’re fucking, it’s only right that we actually do.”  He drained the rest of his whiskey and reached out with his free hand to trace the line of Peter’s thigh.  “You ever…done anything like this before?”

“Not really?”  Peter’s voice came out an octave higher than usual and was trembling ever so slightly.  “I mean…not with someone else?  I’ve read stuff and watched stuff…so I know how to do it and what to expect and…”

“Baby, oh baby, if you think a little porn and erotica has prepared you for a night with me, you’ve got another thing coming.  I’m going to help you get in touch with a side of yourself you’ve never experienced before.  I saw a glimpse of it tonight, biting off buttons, teasing me about handcuffs.  There’s a whole wide world of things you’ve never even dreamed of, and introducing you to that…oh baby, that is going to be a supreme fucking pleasure in every sense of the term.”

[jq37]

The Gary Gygax Job (An Adventure in Two Parts)

I was asked to post my “Hardison forces the gang to play D&D fic” that I wrote for @alexromero​ so here it is. It’s actually just the set up and not the game itself because that would have been a whole undertaking but, anyway, I hope the anon who asked for it enjoys it.

Part One

BASE. Gyutou. Paris.

It's Parker's idea, surprisingly. Well, surprisingly to someone who knows Parker well but not very well. The team is breaking up, at least partially (though the kids have a secret pool running about how much wedded bliss Nate and Sophie can stand before they're ready to get back into the fight). She's not ready to lose two people from her very small inner circle.

"We should do, like, a girls' night," she suggests out of the blue, over the comms while crawling through air ducts (she has some of her best ideas in air ducts, which makes sense, statistically speaking).

"Girls' night?" says Hardison from the van. "You and what girls?"

"Me and Sophie. But also you and Nate and Eliot."

"Tha-that's just hanging out Parker. It's not a girl's night if there are guys."

She shrugs (tries to shrug. There's not enough space in the air duct). "Whatever. We should do it. I miss Sophie. And Nate," she adds, belatedly.

"Me too."

"Me three," Eliot finally cuts in. He's been providing an ambient background of grunts and things smashing into other things for the past minute or so, but that kind of thing is surprisingly easy to ignore after a while. "But can we do this AFTER THE CON???" They grudgingly decide to put a pin in it while Eliot runs his hand through his hair in annoyance. Honestly.

When they call the "Call us if you need us but please try very hard not to need us," number, they get Sophie, which is good. She'll be easier to convince and if they convince her, they've got Nate too. Parker explains her idea and Sophie is very into it: Group activity, once a month, full team.

Sophie's in so they're in business. Hardison puts all of their names into a randomizer and Parker ends up with first pick.

"Greece!" she says, immediately.

"Excellent choice, Parker!" says Sophie, picturing the food and beaches and museums. And then she remembers who she's speaking to.

"Parker, what are we doing in Greece?"

They find out two weeks later and Hardison thinks that it's a good thing he loves Parker to death, because he's pretty sure she's going to get him killed.

BASE Jumping on Zakynhos Island.

"Oh, come on!" Hardison whines as he's tossed a parachute. Sophie is also not thrilled, but she seems to think that encouraging Parker's social skills is worth 5-ish seconds of sheer terror.

The jump order is Eliot, Sophie, Nate (who is choosing to be amused by this whole thing), Hardison, then Parker. Hardison and Parker are the last two on the cliff.

"Come on you big baby," she says. "You've jumped off of buildings before."

"Not for fun."

She touches his chest very deliberately. "Then don't do it for fun. Do it for me."

He shakes his head and steels his nerves. "Sophie's rubbing off on you and I don't like it."

He is so happy to land in one piece that he immediately drops to his back and makes sand angels. From above, he can hear Parker's adrenaline-high scream. He opens his eyes, sees her parachute explode out, and then closes his eyes again. Maybe if he pretends to be asleep, she won't make him go again.

Somehow, Eliot's pick is worse.

He says they're going for a cooking lesson which sounds safe enough. The lesson is at a tiny sushi place in Brooklyn and the chef is some Japanese buddy of his. They're not allowed to know how they know each other specifically (Eliot says he's a "work friend") and they're not allowed to know his name, so they just call him Chef.

Everyone's having a good time and whatever work Chef did with Eliot before, cooking is obviously his calling.

And then…well, Hardison's not sure. It happens really quickly. The door bursts open and a man in dark clothes bursts in. There's a flash of silver from Chef's side of the room and the man drops. Hardison doesn't even have time to jump.

Chef isn't holding his knife anymore, Hardison notices. He looks across the room. It's implanted in the intruder's chest. A gun falls out of his hand and Nate kicks it away.

"What just happened?" says Hardison, trying to keep his voice level.

"It's a Gyutou," says Eliot. "Sharpest knife in the game."

"I'm not asking ab--why would you think I was asking about the knife?"

"Because the guy's Yakuza. Obviously."

"Wait, Yakuza? Like, Yakuza-Yakuza?"

"No, one of the many other Yakuzas out there. Yes, that Yakuza!" In the time it's taken them to have this conversation, Chef has dragged their attacker's limp body into a supply closet, found a clean knife, and gone back to chopping ginger.

Hardison has so many comments that he doesn't know where to start. He just throws up his hands and goes to stand in the corner for a minute. When he remembers that the corner he's in very recently had a dead body in it, he picks a new corner.

Sophie takes everyone for a weekend in Paris because of course she does.

Paris is great. No one tries to kill anyone in Paris. There's no jumping off of anything in Paris.

But…

But it's a little like being on a three-day date with your parents sometimes. And Hardison has been Team Nate and Sophie since day one basically. That doesn't mean he wants to know every museum in Paris they've done it in. Not that he's asking, for the record. But they'll walk in and give each other this kind of smug smirk and he can just tell. It's disgusting.

So, when Hardison's turn rolls around, he feels exactly zero guilt for choice.

"Dungeons and Dragons?" Eliot says with the kind of scorn he reserves for especially bad bad guys and Hardison.

"Oh, I don't wanna hear that tone from you, alright? I don't wanna hear it from any of y'all. Little miss adrenaline junkie over there," Parker blows him a kiss, "And your crazy Samurai friends," Eliot rolls his eyes, "And y'all two making googly eyes at each other for three solid days."

Nate takes a second from doing just that to say, "You're exaggerating."

"He's really not," says Parker.  

"BASE. Gyutou. Paris," Hardison rattles off again. "I did your thing now you're doing mine." He pulls a d20 out of his pocket and holds it between two fingers with a satisfied smirk. "Age of the geek, baby."

Part Two

Nate claims character creation is too complicated for him to understand which is a blatant lie because Hardison has seen him rig an election and manipulate the stock market on the fly and give a guy a nosebleed with his mind like he was freaking Professor X.

"This isn't my thing, Hardison," he says. "Just make a character for me. I don't care about the details. Do whatever you want."

Do whatever you want.

Famous last words.

Hardison makes him a dwarf barbarian character with an intelligence score so low he'll have trouble scratching himself.

Nate texts him a one-word response: No.

Well if you don't like my painstakingly created character you can make your own, Hardison texts back.

Just fix it.

Oh, he'll fix it alright. But first, he has to deal with Eliot.

He tries a different tactic with Eliot.

"Alright," he says when Eliot reluctantly drops in the chair across from him, looking like he's just been plunked into the heart of Gitmo. "You don't have to make a character. I premade one for you. Check it."

He fans out the materials he's printed out that show the character he created--premade for Eliot's approval. He's a human fighter, with a greatsword as his main weapon. He's proficient in several languages, weapons, tools--Hardison had to fudge the rules a little to give him so many skills at level one but it's nothing more ridiculous than what he can do in real life. He even had a sketch commissioned--he knows from experience that Eliot is a sucker for cool artwork of himself.

Eliot's eyes scan the sheets of paper and Hardison thinks he detects that trademark grudging approval he was going for.

"Did I do good or did I do good?"

Eliot looks up, scowls, and then something clearly goes off in his head because a slight smirk replaces the scowl. Hardison doesn't trust it but he doesn't react either.

"OK," says Eliot. "I'll play your character. One change though."

Just one? He can handle that. The way Eliot was looking at him he thought something much worse was coming.

"Sure, what?"

"I want to play as a pacifist."

Hardison's brain BSOD's and reboots in time to see Eliot's slight smirk go full Cheshire cat.

"What?"

"I'll play your guy in your little nerd game, but I want to play as a pacifist."

"You're telling me, you want to play this character, this fighter--a guy whose entire skillset is based on fighting--as a pacifist?"

"Yup."

Hardison scatters the papers in front of him as he thinks of all the high-level encounters he'd planned, counting on Eliot's super buffed fighter to keep the party alive, just like in real life.

"I don't get no respect around here."

While he's reworking the campaign, he gets a text from Nate re: the second premade character Hardison sent him--a sexy tiefling ranger. A sexy, female, tiefling ranger.

You're aware that I know where you live, right?, the text reads.

Not my fault you won't be specific. I'm working on pure guesswork here, Hardison texts back.

Fix it, Nates texts again. Then he adds, Don't forget I know how to hypnotize people.   

Hardison snorts: And I can hack your bank account and spend everything on My Little Ponies. Make your damn character Nate.

Sophie is confused.

"If there's no goal, how do you play?" she asks him over Skype.

He never got a chance to really explain how the game worked and clearly, she hasn't looked it up in the meantime.

"There's a goal. There's just not one singular goal. You usually get some kind of quest and then you choose whatever you want to do. It's an RPG, just without the computer." When she squints in confusion he explains. "Role playing game."

Recognition goes off in her eyes and he realizes how he needs to sell the game to Sophie. "You get to pick a character. Well not pick. Make a character. You come up with a backstory and their abilities--"

"It's like coming up with a cover."

"Yes, exactly. It's exactly like that but you can also do magic if you want."

After she makes the connection, she's sold. The next day, she comes over with her backstory prepared. Or, rather, her backstories.

"I made more than one character because I couldn't decide on playing as a bard or a rogue. They're both very me. Oh," she gasps in much more excitement than Hardison thought he would ever see Sophie Devereaux show about Dungeons and Dragons. "Is there any way I could play as a bard and a rogue?"

"I got you," he says pulling out an info sheet he'd printed in anticipation of her request. "Bam. Sophie special."

"Songfilch?" she reads from the top of the sheet.

"It's not an official class," Hardison explains. "It's kind of a homebrew hybrid I whipped up. Half thief, half performer."

Sophie lights up. "You made me a grifter!"

"I told you this was a fun game."

"One more question," she says. "Is it possible I could play as a vampire? They get the thrall ability which would be useful I think."

"Uh, well you could," said Hardison. "But vampires also can't enter homes without being invited. The whole point of being a rogue is sneaking into houses without being invited to steal stuff. You can't expect them to just open the door and let you…" His words trail off as he remembers who he's speaking to. She bats her eyelashes at him, teasingly. "Yeah. Vampire songfilch. Go for it."

Nate texts him again later in the afternoon. He thinks it's gonna be in response to the munchkin baker character he sent (not a real race or class but Nate's not gonna check) but, miracles of miracles, it's a real character. Not a full character, mind you. It's just sketchy notes for a character: A cleric turned paladin. Servant of the god Helm--god of protectors.

There's not a lot there but there's enough for Hardison to know he actually put effort into it. He thinks Sophie must have gotten to him. Either way, it's enough for him to fill in the blanks and make Nate a character he will actually enjoy playing once he gives it a chance.

An enjoyable character who kicks ass since Eliot is still refusing to.

Parker is actually pretty game about the whole thing.

Which she better be, Hardison thinks. You can't force a guy to jump off of a cliff and then get mad about a little geekery.

She picks her class easily (rogue, natch) but she has trouble picking a race.

"What are you playing as?" she asks.

"I'm not playing," he explains. "I'm running the game. I'm like the narrator."

"Oh." She frowns. "That's lame. It would be more fun if you played."

"Someone has to run the game, Parker."

"I guess," she says. "It's still lame though."

He helps her finish her rogue (halfling rogue they decide), but he's only half paying attention. By the time they're done, he realizes there's someone he needs to call.

Hardison arrives at the game sesh with a guest. "Hey guys," he announces. "This is Chris, my foster brother. He's exactly like me, minus the criminal activity and rugged good looks."

He's also white, but no one mentions that.

"What's he doing here?" Eliot asks.

"Hardison asked me to DM for y'all," Chris answers.

Parker realizes what this means first. "You're playing?"

He nods. "Elven Wizard. I'm gonna hack reality, baby."

Chris rolls his eyes. "You can't just use the word hack whenever you want to. It has a very specific meaning."

"I can if I hack the language," Hardison shoots back as he sits down.

Chris grits his teeth like he's had this argument many times before (which he clearly has). "Let's do this before I kill you. Not in the game, in real life. Are you guys ready?"

Hardison looks around the table: Fighter, Songfilch, Paladin, Rogue, Wizard.

It's a weird group.

He grins.

"Ready. Let's do this."

[yodawgiherd]

Get Ready For The Next Battle

Rating : M

>>>Read on AO3<<<

Yo i just noticed that next chapter is number 69, i ain't gonna pass that opportunity up. I'm so going to unleash the depths of my depravity. . . . im 12 btw ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

“C’mon baby, one more set, you can do it!”

Motivated by his beautiful personal cheerleader, Eren mobilized his remaining strength, pushing with all his might to finish the last few crutches, but his muscles were completely exhausted, and with a groan he let go, falling back on the bench.

“I can’t.. I can’t…”, rolling off the pad, Eren stood up on his slightly trembling legs, bending over to gulp in air. Damn he was beat. Behind him, Mikasa took his place, effortlessly beginning another set of her perfectly fluid movements, her rhythmic breathing suggesting that she was still far from her limits. Sitting down on the machine next to hers, Eren watched her, not completely understanding where the hell she took the energy from. His stomach hurt just from watching her, but Mikasa showed no signs of slowing down, finishing the set and taking a quick breather before the next one.

“You okay? Hope I didn’t exhaust you too much.”, she asked, a tiny hint of mockery in her voice, making Eren frown at her. Today’s workout was kinda insane, and Eren couldn’t help but wonder if it wasn’t her way of paying him back for the play from few days back, her way of showing that while she’s perfectly fine with submitting to him in the bedroom, in terms of physical abilities Mikasa’s still far superior to him. Then again, if she felt the need to assure herself of her skills, Eren was more than okay with that. The playtimes were totally worth having his ass handed to him at the gym.

“You know, not everyone has a set of pistons in their midriff.”

She arched an eyebrow at him.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Isn’t it obvious?”, pushing himself up, Eren loomed above her, running his palm over the defined ridges of her stomach, revealed by the cropped top she usually wore for her workouts. Even after all these years, it still fascinated him, the way he could feel the shape of every single one under his fingers, and it was needless to say that Eren certainly approved her choice of gym attire. “Pretty sure that your abs have their own abs at this point.”

“That’s not how muscles work, Doctor.”

Not feeling like arguing with her, Eren decided on a surprise attack instead, pressing a kiss to her midriff instead. The hitched breath he heard was just what he was looking for.

“You were saying?”

Rolling away from him, half because this part of her workout was done, half because she wanted to hide her giggle, Mikasa stood up, stretching. Her eyes looked all around the gym, before finally settling on her boyfriend, squatting on the floor. She came closer, smoothing a few strands of hair that escaped his bun from Eren’s face, lazily smiling down at him.

“How are your energy reserves?”

Standing up to mirror her, he was the taller one now, very much enjoying the illusion of power it gave him.

“Is that a challenge?”

“Maaaybeee..”, she drew the word out, dragging a singular finger down his jaw. Such a simple touch, yet it managed to make his pulse race. Her arms sneaked around Eren’s neck, and Mikasa’s lips, now dangerously close to his ear, caressed the skin there as she spoke. “I want you to….”

Eren was completely immersed in her little game now, ignoring that they were still in the gym, with people around, and Levi just a few meters away, sitting in his office. Those facts simply flew away from his head, replaced by the way her body felt, pressed against his, firm but soft in the right places, how silky her porcelain skin was under the tips of his fingers. Few words, the right touch, and Mikasa had him completely under her spell, and he was more than ready to go along with any crazy plan she was about to whisper to him.

“…fight me.”, she finished, slipping out of his hug and walking towards the ring, leaving him slightly confused and sporting a very unfortunate hard-on. Ah well, seems like the fun must wait, he thought to himself, following her, mentally doing his best to divert the blood from the crotch area. When he finally caught up, Mikasa was already preparing herself, punching the air, doing quicksteps, the routine that Eren knew intimately, but it still made him wonder just how fast the woman can move.

“I won’t go easy on you.”, Eren did try to sound tough, but judging from Mikasa’s smug smile, she wasn’t very intimidated.

“Give it your best.”

Nodding at him, she took her fighting stance, and Eren followed suit, steeling himself. They were both tired from the complete workout, so technically, he had a better chance than usual, but still. Mikasa was Mikasa. Well, time to prove himself. Knowing that he has no chance if he lets her keep the distance, Eren danced to the left, blocking few or Mikasa’s testing punches, looking for a chance, an opening. Ducking under a blow, he spotted one, charging forward and grabbing her waist, making them both fall on the ground together, tangled in a heap. With some luck, Eren managed to come out on top, using his weight to pin her down.

“I’ve got you now.”, he growled, making Mikasa stop in her efforts and look at him, arching an eyebrow.

“Do you now?”

Her body suddenly twisted in his grasp, like a snake, pulling him down with strength that he had no chance of resisting. With a defeated groan, Eren folded, and they switched positions, with Mikasa now triumphantly looming over him, knees pressing into his arms, keeping them grounded, while his face was caged in from both sides by her thighs. The position even allowed her to keep her own arms crossed over her chest, giving the position quite a dominant feeling.

“You were saying?”, she repeated his words from a few minutes ago, apparently very satisfied with herself. When Eren didn’t reply, frowning up at her, she giggled, reaching down to boop his nose.

“This is the part where you surrender, puppy.”, she informed him after.

But Eren shook his head.

“Nope.”

“Baby,”, she increased the pressure for a short time, signifying how helpless he was right now. “you lost. Surrender.”

“Nah.”

“Eren….”

“Maybe I’ll just stay here, the view is pretty great.”

“So what, you’ll just be under me for the rest of your life?”

“There are much worse ways to go than being choked to death by the legs of a beautiful woman.”

Lacking the words or appropriate reaction to answer that, Mikasa gave up, shuffling back until she was straddling his waist instead, gesturing for Eren to sit up. And he did, massaging his neck, because even with all the strong talk on his part, Mikasa thighs had quite a grip.

“Not going to fulfill my wish then?”

“Can’t do that, I’d miss you too much.”

“Hmm, I suppose I should thank you for your mercy.”

She nodded.

“That would be appropriate.”

Deciding on a non-verbal approach, Eren kissed her, and judging from the way she returned his affection it was the right move. The simple touch of lips soon spiraled into something way more feral, as fighting together always got their blood pumping, and it would hardly be the first time that their workout would end up in a more…. intimate physical activity. Angling her head, licking into his mouth, Mikasa seemed more than happy with how their evening was progressing, but before anything could really happen, another voice cut into their moment.

“Look, I’m not a professional anymore, but I’m kinda sure that this is not how a fight is supposed to look like.”

Hearing Levi’s voice while having his hands around Mikasa triggered Eren’s flight instincts, but with her weight still comfortably sitting in his lap, he couldn’t do much. On her part, Mikasa didn’t even try to stand up, looking over her boyfriend’s shoulder at her brother, who regarded them with a partly disgusted face.

“Levi, you need something?”

“First of all, I’d really appreciate if you didn’t start fucking in the middle of my gym.”, that statement made Eren blush, but Mikasa didn’t seem to care much, shrugging.

“Cool. Something else?”

“Your friend called, Jean, said that you talked about some advertisement? Internet or some shit, couldn’t really understand what he was saying.”

“Oh yeah,”, with Eren still under her, slowly accepting his role as a chair, Mikasa scratched the back of her neck, recalling the details of her conversation with Jean, “he said that he can set us up a profile on Instagram or Facebook, get us rolling. I think it’s worth giving it a shot, but you should be the one with the final decision on this matter.”

“How nice of you, letting me decide about my own gym.”

“Yup, I’m just that amazing.”

“All right, fine, I’ll set a meeting with the guy. Good thinking brat.”

Turning, seemingly ready to go back to his own business, Levi took a few steps before stopping himself and turning back to face her.

“Uhm… For this promotion thing, we’ll probably need to snap some pictures, right?”

“Obviously.”

Anyone could take those, but now that her brother mentioned it, Mikasa got an idea. She was spending a lot of her time working with a full set of professionals lately, wasn’t she?

“I could ask someone from Dot’s crew to cover us, if you want.”, she offered, but to her surprise, Levi shook his head.

“I already got someone in mind.”

“Do I know him?”, she asked, but all he did was look away and mutter something she couldn’t catch.

“Or her?”, she tried again, this time making her brother blush very slightly.

Opting not to answer, Levi started moving again, walking away at a brisk pace. With him disappearing back into his office, Mikasa redirected her attention back to Eren, smiling.

“Now where were we?”

But when she moved in for the kiss, Eren leaned backwards, shaking his head.

“I’m sorry Miki, but I’m not sure I can continue with Levi right behind my back.”, risking a quick look towards the office, he sighed, “Dude still scares me sometimes.”

A minor setback, one Mikasa decided she would overcome, no matter what. Levi wouldn’t cockblock her, well, Eren technically, she had no intention of letting him come between her and her pleasure. The days of her big brother banging on the door of her room, asking what the hell is going on were over. To be honest, it happened only once, and she and Eren were way too loud back then, but the point remained. Standing up, she pulled Eren upright, not letting go of his hand as she began walking in the direction of the changing room.

“Where are we going?”, her victim wondered, stumbling after her, as the tempo she set was rather a swift one.

“I need a shower.”, Mikasa stated, not even looking back to see Eren’s reaction. She was rather sure that it would be a happy one. “And I was wondering if you would be so kind as to wash my back?”

If there was one place Levi surely won’t bother them, it was the bathroom. So, leaning forward, Eren whispered his reply into her ear.

“Lead the way.”

The water was cold, but Mikasa’s body was warm, pressed against his, more than making up for it. Her hands were tangled in his hair, which was finally left hanging free, same as hers, the workout bun and ponytail removed. His own fingers were on a mission, traveling over her chiseled back, down the perfect curve of her spine, and finally reaching that bountiful land of her ass, where he could really dig his fingers in and… She hissed in pain, recoiling from his touch, which in turn made him stop immediately.

“Miki? What’s wrong? Did I do something?”

“No, it’s all right, just…”, she looked up, an uneasy expression on her face, “Don’t grope it that much, not yet.”

Curious, he leaned forward, following the path he made with his hands with eyes instead, wanting to see how he caused the discomfort. The bruises on her backside surprised him, the hand-shaped mark on the left cheek especially, but it wasn’t that hard to do a quick memory jog and discover the cause.

“Did I do that?”, he asked, although he of course already knew the answer.

Mikasa rolled her eyes at him.

“No, of course not. It was Mr. Incognito.”

“Right. The bastard, he can’t keep getting away with this.”

But while talking was all fun and stuff, there were other things she came here to do, so Mikasa tapped Eren’s chest, redirecting his attention back from her rear to her face.

“Back to work, soldier. And easy on the ass, that’s an order.”

“Yes ma’am.”

It still felt unreal sometimes, having the dream they worked on for so long actually finished, solid, a thing you could touch with your hands. It was like yesterday, when Sasha barged into his house, presenting her grand idea to him, but here they stood, all of them, the big circle of his friends that made the dream come true. Running his palms over the smooth wooden surface of the counter, Armin made his way into the main room, where everyone was gathered, waiting for… well, something, because judging from the looks on their faces, they didn’t seem to comprehend the situation either.

“It’s done then?”, Carla voiced everyone’s unspoken question, getting Armin’s attention. But before he could answer, the door opened and Sasha appeared, smiling radiantly, while Connie walked in behind her with his usual stoic expression.

“Yes it is! As of today, our bar is finally….”, she stopped in the middle of the room, throwing her hands above her head in celebration, “finished!”

When no one reacted, as the group simply exchanged looks, save for Eren who pulled Mikasa closer with the hand he had coiled around her waist, and whispered something in her ear, grinning. She giggled, and swatted his shoulder playfully, but that was hardly the approval Sasha was looking for.

“This is the part where you clap.”, she informed everyone in the room, frowning.

Round of applause later, started by Armin, Sasha finally smiled, gesturing for the group to calm down.

“Now, since we are all gathered here, I would like to take this opportunity to express my thanks. We would have never done it if it wasn’t for you.”

“Where our money?”, someone called, jokingly, making everyone laugh.

“Your long hours without any compensation have come to an end however,”, Sasha continued, “as with the bar finished, me, Connie and Armin, the triumvirate of owners, have decided that it’s time to reward you all. Before we officially open, there will be a day, only for us, and we will do something special together.”

She took a small break, to heighten the anticipation.

“A tournament!”

“…. In what?”, asked Jean, confused just like the rest of them.

“Tekken! The fighting game everyone enjoys.”

Now everyone might have been a bit of a stretch, because while Eren, Mikasa and Jean looked very happy with the choice, others were not exactly ecstatic. It kind of made sense, as the tournament was Eren’s idea in the first place, and he supplied both the console and the game.

“You can count me out.”, Levi shook his head, “I don’t play games.”

“Pussy.”, murmured Hange next to him, but he decided not to react to such cheap provocations.

“I won’t play either.”, Carla chimed in, “But I’ll watch for sure.”

“Oh c’mon guys, it will be fun!”, feeling the need to lift spirits, Connie stepped forward, “I don’t really do stuff like that either, but I’m willing to give it a go. The evening won’t be just that, you can drink, sing karaoke, play darts or pool, whatever you want. Just think of it as a test drive for everything, to see if it works.”

A bit of ruckus later, everyone, save for Levi, seemed to come to terms that it was happening, and the overall mood improved. Hange was furiously abusing the screen of her phone, apparently deep in her research already. Connie, the master of manipulating public opinion.

“We’re gonna give everyone a week while we hammer out the tiniest details left, and you guys better go and start practicing.”, he pointed at the happy gamer trio, “You don’t want to lose to these dorks do you.”

“You’re so going down.”, Eren whispered to Mikasa’s ear, smirking.

“Just like at the gym?”, she teased back, watching in satisfaction as his ears turned a tiny bit red, the memories of the fight and especially what followed coming back.

“One last thing….”, Connie raised his voice to get everyone’s attention back, “If you want to bring someone, anyone, do it, because we need to be ready for a full house. That’s all.”

Sitting on a table, Armin rubbed his chin, thinking. He did know someone who could come, but would she?

“Doc, before we start, I have a question.”

“Sure, what’s up?”

“There’s another thing going down at the bar, the one I partially own. We have a small celebratory party, before opening, and I was thinking…. Would you come?”

“Well this feels like a déjà vu. Didn’t you ask me the same thing before Halloween?”, Hitch pointed out, watching Armin shrug.

“I did. But you enjoyed the thing, didn’t you?”

Oh yes, very much so. And she connected with Jean at the party, that was a nice bonus.

“You know what? Fine, I’ll come. I don’t have to dress as anything this time though, do I?”

“No,”, Armin smiled, “but there is something else.”

Hitch gestured for him to go on.

“There’s a tournament in Tekken, in the evening. You could take part.”

“Ehh, fighting games? I was never a big fan of those. I’m more of a Sims type of a girl.”

“It’s happening in a week, so, take your time, think about it. You don’t have to play If you don’t want to.”

“All right.”, she nodded, taking her notes from the table, “Now with that out of the way, can we start?”

Shifting a bit on the sofa, finding the most comfortable position, Armin nodded. Nodding back, Hitch began their session.

“Tell me about your week then.”

“Darius Zackly! Long time no hear friend.”

“Dude, I’m so fucking sorry.”

“Sorry for what?”

“I told you I’ll squeeze you in between Christmas and new year, right? And it’s been months and I haven’t even called you. Man, work was just freaking insane, and add my permanently nagging wife to the mix and…”

“Hey, it’s fine, there’s no rush.”

“Well I still feel like an asshole. Do you still have the customs for me?”

“Yep, totally. Need to talk with you about a few things.”

“Great. Listen, is next week okay? You can drop by anytime and I promise on my grave, actually no, on my wife’s grave, that I will make time for you.”

“That’s perfect. See you next week?”

“See ya.”

The call ended with a click, and Eren put down the phone, grinning in satisfaction. There were a lot of stuff he needed to discuss with his gear provider, as his mind was running rather wild lately, with all the possibilities and things that could be done…. He could always just blame the shortened work hours, because with a lot of free time on his hands, the ideas just kept coming and coming.

“Who was that?”, Mikasa called from the kitchen, where she was working on their dinner. She volunteered to cook, as Eren was usually the one doing it, and told him that she needs no help, to just go and sit his ass down. Well, Eren wouldn’t argue with that, so as per her wish, he sat down, fiddling with his thumbs while she worked.

“A friend.”, he replied, not wanting to spoil the surprise.

“A friend huh? Do I know him?”

“Maybe you do. Maybe you don’t”

“Is talking straight too hard for you?”, she sighed, turning the meat, “Or did the fear or getting your ass kicked in the tournament already darkening your brain.”

Eren snorted.

“Oh please. I’ll school you so hard, you have no idea.”

For reasons unknown, Mikasa laughed upon hearing that.

“Funny that you would use that word.”

“What word?”

“School.”

“And why is that funny?”

Now it was her turn to be all smug and mysterious.

“You’ll see baby.”

She turned her attention back to the cooking, and Eren was left wondering just what the hell she had planned. Oh well, nothing to do but wait for it anyway. He can handle it, whatever it is.

Hopefully.

[xukunstellation]

Fantasy Fest Series: Demon of Mine || Bu Fan [Demon!AU]

Credit to @buyuefan for the gif, which sparked inspiration for this fic!

Title: Demon of Mine Pairing: Reader x Bufan Genre: Witch!AU + Demon!AU + fluff  Word Count: 2,202 words Summary: Magic can be tricky, especially when you accidentally summon a demon into your home.

A/N: My first fic in the Fantasy Fest series! At the time of me writing up this fic, demon!au is currently in the lead in the poll. Who else better to play the role of a demon that Bufan himself? Also, a disclaimer: everything is pretty much more or less fictional. I made up a few things as far as summoning demons go and I also didn’t want anyone to get any ideas, lol. Everything is under the cut because this is the longest fic i’ve ever written I think, oof. Enjoy demon!Bufan! 

Warning: mild cursing, brief mention of blood

ya’ll asked for demon!au

so i gotchu boo

you come from a family of witches 

magic has ran through your family blood line for generations, dating back to the early 1400s

contrary to popular belief, your family did not practice black magic or served the Devil

instead your family used magical skills in order to heal others, even opening an apothecary as a family business

all throughout your life, you loved learning about the functions of different types of herbs and ingredients and using that knowledge to create all types of potions and concoctions 

you also had an affinity for spell-casting and charms

every so often, your parents would go on business trips and travel across realms, bringing back new knowledge of spells and potions that you had never heard of 

sometimes they were gone for months or, rarely, a year

it did feel strange being on your own for long periods of time, but you grew accustomed to it

it also meant you were left in charge of running the apothecary, which you were all too eager for

as you flipped to a page in one of your many ancient potion-books to find the cure for nightshade rash for one of your clients, you scanned the ingredient list and saw that one of the ingredients was virtually illegible due to the fact that the ink was rubbed away over time 

“damn. how am I supposed to make this potion now?” you sighed. “guess i’ll have to ask grandma.”

after closing up the shop so that no customers wandered in, you headed to the back room. shelves lined the walls and were filled with all sorts of magical ingredients, all neatly organized according to their use. the soft sound of the fire crackling under the fireplace and the bubbling of the cauldron hanging above it filled the room. books and papers written in latin littered the tables and floor messily, the aftermath of your charms studying session from earlier

with a flick of your wrist, the books and papers levitated and swirled in the air for a moment before tidying themselves into organized stacks. another flick of your wrist, everything including the furniture moved on their own and cleared the center of the floor

“hm... what was the spell that mom used?” you said to yourself.

you had never summoned your deceased grandmother before, let alone any spirit for that matter. usually it was your mother who did the spirit contacting

looking through a spell book, you stopped at one particular spell and figured this was what you were looking for 

how to summon a loved one

according to the spell, all you had to do was draw a magic circle, provide a drop of blood and say a simple incantation. the circle will automatically summon the one you love, which you figured was your grandmother in this case

sounds easy enough

oh boy were you in for a surprise

you carefully used a piece of white chalk to carefully replicate the image  of a large summoning circle, carefully sketching intricate patterns as you go. facing the fireplace, you slowly inhaled and exhaled, a stream of wind leaving your mouth and extinguishing the flames, turning the room almost pitch black. with that said, you lit a few candles around the circle. gently running your index finger over the other, a small incision appeared. tilting your finger, you let a drop of blood fall into the circle. it was time to start the ritual.

closing your eyes, you channeled all of your energy to your core and began reciting the spell incantation. feeling the magic run through your veins, you felt the air pick up and stir around you, creating a vortex at the center of the circle. shadows danced along the walls to the sound of your chanting that grew in volume with each repetition. the once tiny golden flames were now a roaring, brilliant amethyst. 

your words came to a halt as you finished reciting the spell. the room around you also fell into a complete silence. opening your eyes, you were prepared to greet the spirit of your grandmother

except it wasn’t a spirit

hell (no pun intended) it wasn’t even your grandmother

floating in a fog of purple smoke above the summoning circle was a massive male figure around 6′3′’. his hair was a blood crimson, mirroring his glowing eyes beneath his closed lids. aside from wearing slightly loose black pants and a long trench coat, he was completely shirtless 

(you were lowkey checking out his abs ooh la la)

but what caught you the most off guard was the lilac tint of his skin, the onyx curled horns above his head, deadly talons instead of fingernails, and the powerful presence of obsidian wings that were tattered and torn at the edges and looked at least twice your size

“oh shit i just summoned a demon”

at the sound of your voice, the demon’s eyes snapped open and glared at you with what you believe was murderous intent

fuck

you were going to die tonight 

you were a healer, not a fighter rip you

just as the demon made a move to step out of circle, the spell broke. the magic that kept him afloat disappeared in a flash

causing him to plant face first onto your wooden floor

“....pfffft-”

you knew you probably shouldn’t have found the idea of a potentially dangerous demon in your home funny, but you couldn’t stopped laughing at how someone so scary looking could be so clumsy

meanwhile the demon only winced in pain as he stood back up and rubbed his face before shooting you a look of disbelief

most people would faint, pee their pants, cry, or at least scream in fear at the sight of him

but here you are laughing at him

who tf were you?

“are you done?” he deadpanned after watching you laugh at him for three minutes straight

wiping away a stray tear, you barely managed to settle down and responded, “y-yeah i think i’m good. are you?”

“peachy”

you felt the need to laugh again... until you realized that the spell you used was meant to summon:

a loved one

and it summoned this random demon 

wtf was that supposed to mean

“wait, who the hell are you?” you interrogated

“my name is bufan. i’m a formidable demon of the Underworld!” his loud, deep ass voice boomed before leaning down his height to make eye contact with you

you felt your heart flutter a bit at how close he was

“that’s uh... nice...”

“just... nice....?”

“yeah....”

awkward silence

“so who are you and why did you summon me?” bufan questioned, raising a dark eyebrow at you

“oh! i’m (y/n). i kind of summoned you by accident,” you sheepishly admitted

“how do you accidentally summon a demon?”

“how do you accidentally trip and fall while getting summoned?”

“....”

damn you got him there

“anyway,” you coughed, “all i wanted to do was summon the spirit of my dead grandmother, not a demon. i’m not even sure why the spell summoned you in the first place. not to be rude or anything but can you go back to where you came from? I'm really busy and need to talk to my grandmother so i can start this cure already”

"i can't unless you give me your first born child"

“....say what now”

you gaped at his serious poker face before slowly watching it contort into a shit-eating grin. then he broke into a boisterous laughing fit that shook the whole room with its intensity

you pouted when you realized he was pulling your leg. “this is payback for earlier, isn’t it?”

he calmed himself down to a few chuckles, “i was just trying to break the ice. it’s not every day i get summoned to a cute little witch’s home”

you nearly forgot how much of a smooth talker demons were

blood rushed to your cheeks at his words

definitely not because he called you cute

(it definitely is)

“but i’m telling the truth when i say i can’t exactly go back. that’s not how this spell works. i’m already bounded to you by blood”

you wondered what he meant by ‘not how the spell works’

“the spell book doesn’t say anything about it either,” you sighed. “i guess that means you’re stuck with me for the time being- hey! be careful with that!”

you snatched a bottle of naga venom from bufan who already was snooping around at all of the magical ingredients and things around him

“you’re awfully calm. aren't you afraid i'll take your soul or something?" he says

"bold of you to assume I have a soul"

you were joking of course and he, being a demon, could sense that you indeed did have a soul and grinned at you

“just... try and behave yourself, ok?”

“i’ll be on my best behavior”

bufan was not on his best behavior

you should have known never to trust a demon smh

having bufan around was like taking care of three year old child

he’s constantly asking you questions every time you’re trying to make potions and just genuinely trying to annoy you

“(y/n), what’s that?”

“dragon’s breath”

“and that?”

“alicorn tears”

“this empty jar says teeth. who’s teeth?”

“it’s about to be yours in a second after i punch you in the jaw if you don’t stfu”

“are all you humans so snippy?”

“oh my god”

“more like oh my lucifer amirite”

you were a unicorn’s hair away from hexing him jfc

for someone so big, he was also extremely sneaky and sly

he’s always trying to play pranks on you and using his powers to his advantage

such as using his invisibility to randomly pop in front of you or poke your sides or face when you were doing something

or hiding your phone and other necessities all over the house and sending you on an entire scavenger hunt

despite his childish tendencies, bufan was also quite reliable 

for some reason, he grew to be protective of you although he knew you could protect yourself with your own powers

whenever you traveled home alone at night, he insisted on flying you home on his broad back

which you secretly loved bc flying with bufan was always fun since he would always make it feel like a roller coaster ride by flying in loops and various speeds

there were times where bufan even acted like a mother figure which was both intriguing and terrifying

“(y/n), did you eat yet?”

“no i don’t have any time to-”

*proceeds to make eight different types of meals for you*

in addition, he always had liver medicine on hand and you have no idea how or why???

whenever you were having a bad day, he never hesitated to listen to your problems even if they didn’t apply to him as a demon

over the next few months of bufan living with you, your once quiet and uneventful home was now constantly filled with laughter, annoyed yells, and bustle. you found yourself noticeably happier

but a part of you always wondered if your happiness was only one sided

“bufan,” you called out to him one day while fiddling with your wand

he made a grunting sound from the couch that was situated a few feet from you, indicating that he heard you and was listening

“do you regret being summoned by me?” you nervously asked

no answer

feeling your heart drop when he failed to respond, you assumed the worse and laughed quietly to hide the sadness in your heart

“it’s okay if you do. i wont hold it against you,” you nodded timidly

hearing his footsteps approach you, you faintly remember hearing your wand drop onto the floor before he pulled you close to him

you’ve never felt so tiny oml

“what makes you think i regret being here?” he questioned, clearly confused as to why you were suddenly bringing this up

you shrugged, “i don’t know... i mean, you were kind of forced to. do you miss being on your own?”

“do you?”

it took you a moment to quietly reply, “i’ve gotten used to feeling alone, so if you wanted to leave, i would let you”

bufan could hear the loneliness that lingered at the edge of your words. little did you know, he already knew how much you meant to him from the very first day he met you. there was no way it was an accident. he pulled you tighter to him before kissing the top of your head

“silly little witch. who says i’m going anywhere?”

you tilted your head up at him in surprise, “you’re saying that if you had the chance to leave, you wouldn’t take it?”

“you couldn’t get rid of me even if you wanted to”

and you swear that that was the moment you knew you had fallen for a demon

maybe performing that spell wasn’t a mistake after all

perhaps the universe knew that bufan was meant to be your loved one

because there was no better feeling than always coming home to a certain demon of yours

[omgkarensgillan]

Berlin, I love You || Gilmell

@omgstephenamell

Karen: Karen was shocked to say the least when she found out that Stephen was in Berlin and was wanting to stay with her too, she had no idea he would be in the area he had told her that he was going back to the States so for him to just show up in Berlin it was a treat for her. She smiled brightly at every text from him, the problem with staying away from her friends for so long was the struggle of missing them so much. Sure, she would make new friends but this was always a struggle. She knew that she didn't have very many friends growing up so to be a 'grown up' and having all these friends now it was a weird feeling but she loved it. Cleaning up her flat the empty boxes of food were spilling over the trash she decided to empty it and take the rest of it downstairs. Heading back up she showered quickly and tied her hair back in a messy bun, she opted for black leggings and an oversized long sleeve shirt when she was getting dressed. Hearing the door she headed over to let him in, she smiled seeing him "Steve!!" she said throwing her arms around him.

Stephen: Stephen had been needing an excuse to visit Berlin and he kept putting it off, always finding some reason not to go. But now, he figured he was close, and rather than return to his lonely apartment in LA, he would spend the weekend with his friend Karen. They had only just met but she was fun and sweet and the older male loved teasing her. The fact that she was beautiful wasn't lost on him either. After paying the cab driver and heading up to the apartment, he hesitated momentarily before knocking, wondering why exactly he'd decided now to visit. He would have time to think about that later as he raised his hand to knock softly. He was met with fiery red hair and a killer smile, causing him to smile himself. "Hey you." He said, rubbing her back. "How are you?"

Karen: She grinned and rested her head in the crook of his shoulder as he hugged her. The fact this man smelled amazing after a flight was impressive. She could feel him rubbing her back and it was relaxing. "I'm grand and yourself?"

Stephen laughed and shook his head. "And where does grand fit on the feel good scale? Above or below great?" He teased, finally breaking the hug. "You gonna invite me in or am I sleeping out here?" He laughed, shaking his head as he stepped inside the room. "Oh nice. Someone is stepping up in the world. This place is bigger than my apartment."

Karen: "Grand is good like higher than good"She smiled at his remark about the size of her place "It's not too shabby you know?" She said heading towards the kitchen " can I get you something to drink?"

Stephen "That's grand to know." He teased, giving her a wink before stepping into her apartment. He looked around and took in all the sights before making his way to the kitchen. He didn't want to presume that he had free reign around the place but given how accommodating the redhead was being, he immediately felt welcome. "I'll take whatever you have. A beer, soda, water. I'm not picky." He said, shedding his jacket and hanging it on the back of the chair.

Karen: She laughed and shook her head sending a wink his way "touche" she said walking into the kitchen and opening her fridge "bold of you to assume that a lady such as myself would drink beer" she said teasing him before opening the fridge and saying "I have tons of things to drink"

Stephen The banter and teasing between them felt easy and Stephen could see himself spending more time with her as their friendship grew. She was so funny and could definitely keep him on his toes, which is something he liked. "Are you kidding? Most women I know drink wine and those fruity drinks. I'm more impressed if you do drink beer." Grinning, he leaned over the counter and looked inside, pointing to the beer sitting on the shelf. "I'll take one of those, please and thank you."

Karen: She felt a true connection between the pair of them she smiled and blushed just a bit he was gorgeous and she was weird she got him the drink and opened it herself without a bottle opener "I was once a bartender in my wee years"

Stephen just stared when she opened the bottle with her bare hands. It wasn't a hard feat to accomplish but he was still impressed by the actress. He loved finding out new things about people that no one else got to know. "Well aren't you just a conundrum? I think I'm going to have fun getting to know you better. Should we start with a round of 20 questions?" He teased, taking a drink of the beer.

Karen: She rested her head on her chin and looked over at him "I'm down but let's go to the couch don't need you laughing so hard you land on your arse off that stool" she said walking back into the room and patting his shoulder "no need to frighten the people who live below me"

Stephen "Are you calling me fat, Karen? That's hurtful. Do I need to show you my abs again?" He smirked, grabbing the beer and following her to the couch. He sat down opposite her, shifting his weight so he was facing her, resting his elbows on the back of it. "Before we start, I should thank you for letting me stay here. It saves me a lot of trouble." He said, offering her a genuine smile. "Okay, you go. Ask me anything. One night only, no question is too much or too personal." He might regret it later but for now, he didn't care.

Karen: "no you are all muscles" she said "the fat one here is me and that nap I took before you came" she said sitting on the couch looking at him her wide eyes narrowing in on him "hmm might regret that "

Stephen "If you're fishing for compliments, then you used the right bait because you are anything but fat. I mean, come on. I watched Jumanji. You shut up with that negativity right now." He said, wiggling his finger at her. "Now, there is obviously some things I won't answer but I doubt we'll get to that level of questioning. I'm just saying that if we start listing off things we don't want to talk about, that list will get quite long and we won't talk at all. If you do happen to hit on one I don't want to answer, I'll say so and move on." He clarified, shrugging his shoulders. "Some things should stay personal. But other than that, we should be good to go." Stephen was usually an open book but even he had limits.

Karen joined the chat 10 days ago

Karen: She smiled and felt like an idiot at her comment "I was joking" she said before taking a simple sip of her drink and looking at him "sounds fair, mind you it's getting me to shut up rather than be quiet when it comes to personal things. Unless you're an interviewer then I'm like nope."

Stephen took a drink of his beer before setting it down on the table, folding a leg underneath him as he tried to think of a question to get them started off. "Interviewers and paparazzi are the worst. They have no sense of boundaries and only care about scandals most of the time." He explained, shaking his head. "With that being said, what's the worst question you've ever been asked during an interview?"

Karen: She laughed and said "Oh Lord there's been so many any sexist questions. How do you get your abs looking so good? "

Stephen laughed and shook his head. "Out of all of the questions, that's the first one you go with?" He teased, shaking his head again before speaking. "A lot of trips to the gym and exercising. It takes a lot of work to look like this."

Karen: She nodded her head and said "yes! I had to go with the worst question first" she said "I mean it's better in person"

Stephen He smirked, chuckling softly. "Why do they keep offering roles where your accent is hidden? Are they scared of the Scottish language?"

Karen: "I think so, I think they just want to make me more appealing to the general masses" she said "feck it right? "

Stephen "Well I love it so you know, stand up to then and start using your influence to make it happen. They made an animated movie with an actual Scottish princess, surely they can give you one role." He smirked, taking another sip of his beer. "Next question."

Karen: She smiled softly looking at him "Well thank you so much! I know I wanna be Merida but they won't do a live action of her. Hmm dream role you have? "

Stephen "You never know. If they keep on the path they are now, pretty soon every animated Disney movie will be live action so perhaps you'll get your chance." He said, resting his head in his hand. "I've been playing a hero for the past eight years and I'd really love to try my hand at a villain. It doesn't matter who but yeah, I think it would be fun."

Karen: "Nebula is so much fun to play with after being Amy for as long as I was being naughty is fun. But she's a hero now so not sure about that anymore. You'd be a delicious baddie. "

Stephen "You can still make her naughty as a good guy. I mean you did it pretty well in Guardians 2 and End Game. It's all about the delivery. She was still a badass, even if she is a good guy now." The Canadian complimented, rolling his eyes at her compliment. "Are you hungry? Because I'm not sure being a delicious baddie is what I want." He teased, a small laugh escaping him.

Karen: She laughed at his comments "no! Not hungry, " she said, shaking her head "I can have her go a bit wild"

Stephen "You definitely should. It'll make the next installment that much more enjoyable." He teased, crinkling his nose. "Who is your dream costar? And you can't tell me because that's cheating." He smirked, taking a swig of his beer.

Karen: "Damn it I wanted to say you! " She said pouting in his direction adorably so, "hmm I wanna work with Steve Martin"

Stephen "Us working together is no longer a pipe dream. With your writing skills and my friendship with you, you can write us something fun to star in." Her answer caused him to nod, a smile playing on his lips. "Same. I would love to work with him as well. As well as Tom Hanks and Morgan Freeman. It would literally be a dream come true."

Karen: "you're right, I think it would have to be a rom com of sorts " she said booping his nose " I worked with Tom he's great to work with!"

Stephen laughed and rolled his eyes. "A rom com? Really? How about an action movie with romantic undertones? I don't know if I'm made for romcoms." He teased, swatting her hand away playfully. "I'm insanely jealous of you right now. I mean it's just not fair." He smirked, shaking his head. "Your turn Kar."

Karen: She smiled and said " Yes you and your smile definitely can be a rom com " she said "top five actresses you wanna kiss"

Stephen "Perhaps one day. I'm not sure if it'll happen given that I'm reaching 40 but if you write it, I might star in it." He thought hard about the question, tapping his fingers on the back of the couch. "Halle Berry, Ann Hathaway, Charlize Theron, Gal Gadot, and... well I could say you but I feel like I could kiss you right now with your permission and I'm basing this on females I'll never get to kiss so my last one is going to be Jennifer Lawrence."

Karen: She looked at him "I can definitely see it" she said nodding her head slightly tipsy when he said he wanted to kiss her right now. "Is that your question to kiss me?"

Stephen wasn't drunk, he wasn't even tipsy yet but the appeal of the redhead across from him made him wish he was. It would have been easy for him to close the gap and just kiss her while his inhibitions were down but given that he was sober and would most likely ruin their friendship was giving him pause. "It was going to be one of them eventually. Perhaps later after dinner and when we were slightly more inebriated. Not that I don't want to kiss you sober but I'm just not sure it's what either of us really... needs right now." He wasn't making any sense, perhaps it was the hunger or how tired he was but as he made eye contact with her, he bit his lip. "I just don't want to regret anything tomorrow, you know?"

Karen: She looked at him and felt the weight of the question she could read his mind. He didn't want to kiss her just yet, but she wasn't going to let that hinder the fun they were having. She felt her own stomach growl "Perhaps food, food would be better .."

Stephen hoped that he hadn't hurt her feelings by his words. It wasn't like he didn't want to kiss her but he wanted to make sure it was something they both wanted and that the timing was right. Even if it wasn't tonight. "Yes food. I haven't eaten since that layover in New York. Lead the way beautiful." He said, offering her a warm smile.

Karen: She took his hand "Damn well we ought to get you fed then shouldn't we?" She said heading to the kitchen " take out tonight then I'll do my tourist gig for you deal? "

Stephen "Yes. Food is good. I'm starving." He teased, leaning in to kiss her on the cheek. "Order whatever you want for the two of us. I'm not picky." He said, standing up from his place on the couch. "I'm going to go get us some ice. Be right back."

Karen: "Ok, hope you like haggis" she said back to him she settled on a good restaurant she became fond of recently. Berlin while it had its own charm didn't fail when it came to food, the cuisine here was slowly becoming her favorite. Smiling she dialed the restaurant and ordered in broken German.

Stephen "I've never had it but uh, it sounds... interesting." He smirked before heading into the guest room. He quickly changed out of his travel clothes and put on something more comfortable and clean before heading back out to where Karen was. "Now I can get some ice. I had to get out of those clothes." He headed out the door and to the ice machine a few feet down, filling the bucket before heading back. "All set. Now we're just waiting on the food. Shall we continue with the questions?"

Karen: She chuckled when he came back in with the ice "Thanks for the ice, ice, baby" she said laughing before nodding her head "yes more questions your turn I believe?"

Stephen "Wow. You are such a nerd." He teased, shaking his head before grabbing the bottle of wine from the fridge. He brought the bucket and placed the bottle inside. "Hmm, do you believe in the supernatural?" The Canadian asked, looking over at her.

Karen: "I believe in some supernatural things, it's complicated I did interact with a ghost before and Matt can vouch for me."

Stephen "Okay I need to hear this story because I'm fascinated by ghost stories." He admitted, his face lighting up like an excited child. "I mean, if you don't mind sharing. I promise I won't say anything."

Karen: "Okay so we were living in the same flat building and he was dropping me off one night after set and we saw blood on my door and heard a noise that sounded like a ghoul and we both ran and slept at his flat that night."

Stephen "Oh wow, that's crazy. But it also makes me want to watch a scary movie." He laughed, his nose crinkling as he reached for his beer. "Did you know the place was haunted or was this a surprise?"

Karen: "I love scary movies! What is your favorite thing about them?" she said elated before shaking her head "it was in Cardiff where we were filming Who so I had no idea."

Stephen "Really? Okay so that solves what movie we're watching tonight." He said matter of factly as he reached for the remote. "I love the suspense. If you can keep me on the edge of my seat while also sending chills up my spine, you've done a good job." He answered, nodding his head. "Here's my question. Do you know the difference between a scary movie and a horror film?" He asked, nodding his head. "I would have researched after this happened to find out myself. I love that stuff."

Karen: "I was in a horror film my character is crazy." she said winking at him "not so far from reality." she thought on the question "hmm good question and I'm blanking at the moment about the right answer"

Stephen "I remember that very well. It was very spooky. And that ending was insane." He stated, hearing a knock on the door. "That would be the food. Be right back." He got up and walked to the door, paying the courier and bringing the food back to the living room. "This smells amazing by the way." Grinning, he looked over at her and smiled. "It's simple really. Horror movies are typically monsters/psychopaths with a lot of blood. Scary movies are supernatural in nature. At least, that's my definition."

Karen: "So you have been keeping tabs on me before meeting me huh?" she said laughing as he went to the door and smiled at the gesture it was odd for her to have someone to get the door when the food arrived anywhere, she was used to getting it. So it was a change of pace. When she was with Christ Pratt they were always or sometimes on set and so the food would be provided there, but when it was after shoots and they were at each other home it was different. "Well hey, I mean it's not haggis I was just teasing you." she said nodding her head "I liked your definition."

Stephen "Not really. I mean, when you work with Arthur, and he speaks nothing but good things, well, it kind of makes me want to watch the things that person is in. It was terrifying but you looked amazing and did a great job." He said, bringing the food back over to the table. "I was teasing too. At this point, I'll eat anything." Stephen grinned, looking over at her. "Should we make a toast first?" He said, holding up his bottle of beer.

Karen: "He's the biggest softie I know! Minus RDJ." She said smiling at Steve the way he complimented her was so sweet she was never one to take a compliment well but with Steve, it was different. "Toast to what exactly?"

Stephen "And an amazing cuddler." He teased, before scratching his head. "Hmm, to our health, our future, and great friends." He stated, clinking his bottle against her wine glass. "Shall we eat?" He asked, grabbing a container from the bag and opening it.

Karen: "You have cuddled Thomas?" She said wide eyed "That's a cute mental image" she said smiling as he took out the container " it's Chinese I hope you don't mind?"

Stephen "I'm sure he'd deny it but yes. We snuggled once." He teased, grabbing his fork as he quickly took a bite. Dinner went by fast, very few words were spoken in the twenty minutes that it took. But now, it was over and Stephen was browsing through Netflix for a scary movie they had agreed on. Hitting play, he leaned up, lifting up his arm so that she could cuddle into him. She smelled good, her shampoo hitting his nose but he needed to focus on the movie and not the woman currently fitting perfectly into his side.

Karen: The way his heartbeat echoed in her chest made her feel all giddy "Oh my goodness I am so ready for this film, what about you?" She said looking up at him perks of cuddles she wasn't always the tall one.

Stephen looked down at her and laughed, nodding his head. "Let's do it. Don't laugh too hard if I scream though okay?" He teased, tearing his eyes away from her and to the screen. He didn't know why he was all of sudden nervous but he wasn't going to let that spoil his evening with her.

Karen: She got up to turn the lights off "some mood lighting for the spooky scenes" she said dashing over to him pulling up a blanket over the two of them "all good I scream during films too!"

Stephen laughed and nodded, holding her close once she was back in his arms. He knew he liked her company already but the fact that his palms were sweaty and his heart was racing meant that it went deeper than that. He had tried so hard not to get involved but it seemed that fate had other plans. Who wouldn't want to date her? She was amazing. He was the problem. He just had to restrain himself and get through the movie. "Well we can protect each other."

Karen: She liked how it feels to be held by him, she could have fallen asleep she was so comfortable with him. He was a great guy, awesome father and just amazing she was wondering why he would like spending so much time with her. No matter how baffling it was to her she wasn't going to complain. Taking his hand she said "deal"

Stephen offered her a warm smile, his fingers wrapping tighter around her arm, chin resting on the top of her head. "What should we do tomorrow? Or after the movie is over? The night is still young and I'm not ready for sleep yet."

Karen: She smiled at the way his chin rested on her head it was a comforting thing. She glanced at him "well there's a chocolate candy store on the outskirts of town and a great cafe plus some sightseeing, so anything else can be done tonight. What do you want to do the most? "

Stephen "Well I'm here for tonight and tomorrow. And could be persuaded to stay longer if you're your guiding is as good as you claim." He teased, fingers rubbing up and down her arms. "How about we just explore? No destination, no time limit. Just us in the middle of Berlin with a map and our imaginations."

Karen: She sighed at the feeling of his fingers trailing lazily on her arms, she tapped her nose for a moment pretending to think "well, I mean I'm always up for adventure!"

Stephen "Good. Then that's what we'll do." He watched a bit more of the film, his eyes trailing down go focus on the redhead every so often. He wondered if he should make a move, it was clear there was tension so as he looked down at her, she met his gaze. "Was that your invitation for me to make a move? Cause it was received." He smiled, leaning his head down to press his lips to her softly.

Karen: "Well two beats ago it was" she said smirking as she felt his lips on hers she closed her eyes and smiled as he kissed her softly. She sighed against his lips as she curved into his touch.

Stephen never liked to make assumptions where women were concerned and sometimes he read too much into signs and other times he did not read enough. But as he continued to kiss the redhead, he thought about all the signs she'd given him in the past and it made him chuckle against her lips. Pulling away, he looked into her eyes and smirked. "I guess I'm not as good at reading you as I thought." He teased, grabbing her arm to pull her into his lap, lips meeting hers again. He sat up straighter, arms resting on her back as he deepened the kiss, finally giving in to what he'd wanted since arriving.

Karen: She hadn't been kissed like this in a long while she wasn't used to it but did it feel like home, the way he held her was possessive but gentle and how he kissed her his lips were softer, warmer and sweeter than she had thought they would have tasted. She chuckled looking deep into his eyes at his remark and said "well you'll have plenty of time to understand the pages in my books that you'll be fluent in reading what I'm showing you" she said straddling him feeling his arms around her back. She closed her eyes tighter and breathed in his cologne "Stephen how long did you want to kiss me for?"

Stephen moaned softly into the kiss, his body reacting in ways it hadn't since his divorce. He had hooked up before but there was no intimacy, it was just meaningless sex and if he was being honest with himself, he was tired of it. He wasn't ready to commit either but he wanted it to mean something more. Maybe with Karen, if it led to that, could be the start of something new for him. Her question caught him off guard and he paused, teeth nipping at her neck as he growled at her. "Since I walked in the door." He confessed, kissing along her jawline as his fingers tangled in her hair.

Karen: She felt her breath catch in her throat as his lips and teeth explored her neck she groaned softly at his touch "Glad we have that in common" she said arching her back into his chest as he intertwined her locks in his fingers "I've been wanting to kiss you"

=Stephen "Then let's stop talking and give in to what we want." He whispered, lips hovering over her ear before he pressed his lips to the lobe, kissing back down with more vigor. He knew she would have to return to work so he shouldn't leave a mark on her but he wanted everyone to know so he found a spot that had gotten a response from her before and sucked hard, teeth pulling the skin into his mouth as he worked a hickey into the soft flesh. His hands left her hair to trail down her body, fingers tickling her as it ghosted over the pale skin.

Karen: She felt the need and the wanting for him growing in the pit of her stomach she felt herself growing further away from logic and more towards how much she wanted to wake up beside Stephen in the morning.

Stephen had thrown away all logic and reasoning the minute his lips met hers and he wasnt looking back. He had been wanting Karen for a while, their budding friendship had somehow turned into a lustful need to be with her. As he slid his tongue into her mouth, his hands worked their way inside the top she was wearing, his calloused but nimble fingers making easy work of her bra straps. Expertly lifting the shirt up and over her head, he tossed it to the side before pulling her flush against him, tongue running along the roof of her mouth as his hips worked into a rhythm against her covered core.

Karen: She groaned as he started to take off her clothes "Stephen" she said along his lips "my bedroom" she said nearly whimpering, she loved talking to him, hugging and just everything that she did with him. But the way that her chest felt against him was too much "too much clothes" she said lifting his shirt off of his head and kissing the center of his chest.

Stephen laughed, standing up off the couch, his many years of gym workouts allowed him to carry the woman to the bedroom with ease. Once they were there, he lifted his arms, eyes never leaving hers as she lifted his shirt off, his hands immediately wrapping around her again. Carrying her further into the room, he dropped her gently on the bed, his body covering hers as he met her lips again. "You're beautiful." He whispered, fingers floating along her sides before he kneaded her breasts in his hands. Teeth nipped at her neck, lips and tongue trailing kisses down her now naked torso. Her perfume enveloped his senses and he made quick work of her pants, pushing them down and away from her.

Karen: She looked up as he bridged over her "I could say the same to you" she said kissing him back after he called her beautiful "we don't have to rush...I know our urges are tell us that we must but I wanna take this slow with you, is that ok?" she said kissing his knuckles.

Stephen smiled down at her, tucking some hair out of her face before nodding as he crawled off of her and instead lay next to her, shifting onto his side and pulling her to him. "We can go as slow as you want babe." He whispered, kissing the tip of her nose. "I'm here for as long as you want me."

Karen: The way he was able to go from primal want to sweet and gentle was a good thing to Karen there were days in the past that men just kind of used her and forgot about her so to see that he was able to turn that portion of himself off was a plus to her. "I wanna have you around a long while.." she said kissing his neck "I have grown fond of you"

Stephen "Well that's good because I dont plan on going anywhere." He teased, kissing her forehead. "You have? Hmm, what should we do about that?" Stephen asked, tapping her nose. "I have a few ideas." He added, leaning in to kiss her again.

Karen: She watched as he leaned in to kiss her forehead he was so affectionate and it was astonishing to Karen. "Hmm what indeed" she said kissing him back.

Stephen "We can make out until our mouths are sore. I can give you a massage. Or we can finish our movie. Whatever you want babe." He said, hand resting on her hip as their lips met again.

Karen: "Oh! I like the first two options" she said kissing him deeper raking her nails down his back

Stephen "Which one do you like better because itll be hard for me to do them both at the same time." He asked, his nose crinkling as he dug his fingers into her hip.

Karen: "My lips are magnetized to yours right now" she said kissing his nose "hmm but those hands of yours"

Stephen:  "Well then, allow me to wow you babe." He said, leaning up and motioning for Karen to roll onto her stomach. His hands went to her shoulders, thumbs kneading the soft flesh in circles before he worked his way down her back.

Karen: She groaned at how he was good at nearly everything "do you feel those knots?"

Stephen "You're very tense. Relax and if I'm hurting you, just let me know and I'll stop." The Canadian said before kneading a bit harder on her problem areas.

Karen: "I'm alright the training and filming has my back a mess" she said reaching back to caress his thigh

Stephen "They dont have an on set masseuse to help you with sore or pulled muscles?" He asked, fingers going down to her lower back, fingers digging in harder. "I would have thought you did given the strenuous stunts you've been doing."

Karen: "They do but they aren't as good as you" she said smiling softly

Stephen "Oh well hopefully I can work out the kinks in time for your return to set. I'm only here for the weekend so use me as you will." He smirked, shaking his head before leaning down to kiss her shoulder. "Are you feeling any better? Any place you want me to get that you can't reach?"

Karen: "hmm come to think of it I don't think so but, I'll let you know for sure" she said turning back over to look up at him " I don't want you to leave when the weekend is over" she said cupping his cheek

Stephen stopped what he was doing, coming around to lay down so that he was facing her, a small smile crossing his face. "Convince me to stay." He whispered, his eyes boring into hers. He didn't have to be back in Vancouver for a couple of weeks and the only thing waiting on him in LA was an empty house so staying with Karen would be ideal but he didn't want to overstep his bounds either.

Karen: She wondered how she could get him to stay a few more days she curled into his body and kissed him passionately and slowly letting her tongue explore every inch of his mouth. Running her hands down his chest tantalizingly slow she traced each muscle until she got to his hips.

Stephen returned her kiss with fervor, the hunger inside of him was threatening to come out if she continued her minstrations much longer. He wasn't complaining by any means but they had said to take it slow but the way she was acting made him want to have her now. He moaned into the kiss, fingers tangling in her hair as his other hand trailed along her spine, his mind a mixed bag of emotions and lustful thoughts.

Karen: She groaned back as his hand slipped down her bare back , she hooked her leg around him and pressed herself closer to him her long legs revealed and her knickers the last item on her body. She knew this position fairly well and the fact that he was willing to wait was enough for her not to want to. "These" she said patting his jeans "they have to go"

Stephen let the woman take control, it was her decision to wait and from where he was laying, she had decided it might be time. Chuckling at her words, he pressed his lips to hers as he quickly unbuttoned his jeans, pushing them down his hips and kicking them off his legs. He moaned, there was just a thin layer of fabric separating from what he desperately craved. "Fuck Ren, you're so sexy right now." He confessed, watching her take control. It wouldn't last but for now, it was enough to cause his cock to twitch and harden.

Karen: She smirked at how he was reacting to her body she kissed him softly "You like that then?" she asked before kissing his neck

Stephen "I do. But in my defense, its been so long and you're smoking hot so can you blame me?" He teased, turning his head to the left so she could get better access. He trailed a finger along the hem of her panties, tickling the skin.

Karen: "It's been a long time since I have been with someone too, nearly a year." she said before she stopped talking at how he was tickling her skin "Stephen.." she said breathlessly

Stephen "What an interesting pair we make huh?" He teased, noticing the effect his current actions were having on her. The whispered mutter of his name caused a shiver to crawl up his spine as he looked up at her. "Yes?" He asked, continuing what he was doing, each pass pushed the fabric a little further down her hips.

Karen: "Right? Also how would our production companies feel about the DC and Marvel mash up?" she said trying to distance her thoughts from how he was removing her knickers "Mhm.."

Stephen laughed and crinkled his nose. "It would be amazing and long overdue. Not to mention epic as fuck." The older male stated, finally pushing them down and away from her body. He let his eyes roam her body, licking his lips as he wiggled a finger at her. "Come here." He whispered, pulling her down so he could kiss her again.

Karen: She loved how his nose crinkled "Language there" she said shaking her head and teasing him, once her knickers were gone she looked at him hoping he wasn't judging her or anything she looked at the way his tongue flicked across his lips and how he whispered to her. Feeling his lips against hers again sent a shiver up her spine.

Stephen "Oh you don't like when I say fuck? Well what are you going to do about it?" He teased, licking her lip playfully. Once she was completely naked and he had gotten a good look at her pale, but flawless, skin, he loved everything he saw. She was radiant and he loved that she was letting him see this side of her. Sliding his tongue inside her mouth, he scooted her body up his torso so he could quickly and effectively slide his boxers off, tossing them off the side of the bed.

Karen: "I was teasing and you know I could just slip my clothes back on" she said feeling the waistband of his boxers gone and it was flesh to flesh. "Did you think that we would end up here tonight?"

Stephen "You will do no such thing, you minx." He smirked, watching her face for any sign that she didn't want this, or that she was changing her mind about being with him. Her question caused him to shake his head before clarifying. "I mean, I'd be lying if I said I hadn't thought about, or had ulterior motives for visiting, but I'm a gentleman so it's not just about the sex. I wanted to get to know you as well. I had hope that it would end with us in bed but I wasn't expecting anything."

Karen: "I get called that a lot" she said trying to make him jealous before she bit her lip "I like talking to you, and kissing, and I don't know.." she said sighing before cupping his face "I feel safe with you" she said softly and vulnerably

Stephen "By who?! I'll fight them. That's my name for you." Stephen laughed, running his hand up and down her hips. "I like doing that too. You're very kissable. And talkative." He teased, giving her a soft peck on her lips. "I'll always protect you. Its part of the job of knowing me. An unpaid protector and bodyguard."

Karen: "Well I'm not yours yet, so you don't really have a claim on me" she said "things that I get told a lot too" she said kissing closing her eyes and kissing him "I mean I can protect myself but it's a heart feeling"

Stephen "That's true. And I apologize for assuming. But you know, you could be." He smiled, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "Mine I mean. We can take it slow, go on a few dates, get a feel for one another, and then if we're still feeling like this after a few dates, we can label it." He confessed, biting his lip. He was being vulnerable and putting his cards on the table and it was up to her to decide if this is what she wanted. It would take him a while to get there but with her by his side, maybe he actually could.

Karen: "Do you still mind waiting until then for me?" she said even though they were naked and vulnerable with each other right now she was certain that they could be strong enough until at least that point.

Stephen "As long as you don't mind waiting for me. Its going to take me a while to break down the walls but I like spending time with you, I like what we're doing, and I think we could have fun together. No rules, no expectations. We just go with the flow and be ourselves." He added, nodding his head.

Karen: "It's always the best when I don't have to pretend to be anyone that I'm not. and that you like me for who I am is a good thing" she said kissing him

Stephen "I'm a divorced 38 year old father with commitment issues. If you can put up with me, you can literally handle anything." He replied, returning her kiss hungrily. They were still naked, he was still horny and he definitely wanted to get back to what they were doing before all the talking.

Karen: "I've never been married, but I've been used, forgotten and just left in the dust, and if you can handle that then that's great" she said kissing him deeply "don't stop.."

Stephen "Well that stops with me. I'm in this to the end, whatever that may be." He admitted, sliding his tongue into her mouth, grazing it along the roof of her mouth. "I won't babe." He whispered, grabbing her around the waist and flipping them over. It was his turn to be in control, to show her just what he could do. He was leaking already, his want for the redhead was evident by his hard cock resting against her wet core.

Karen: she felt a tear come down her face as he kissed her the words he just said running in her mind "Good' she said feeling her back hitting the mattress

Stephen 's lips left hers, trailing down her neck to suck another hickey into the soft flesh. She might not be his but he was going to let people think she was. "Your makeup artist is going to kill me when she sees these." He laughed softly before taking a pert nipple into his mouth, swirling his tongue around the hardened nub.

Karen: She could have cared less about the make up crew she knew her fellow cast members would never stop teasing her if she came to work with hickeys but she didn't care about that either. "I don't care.." she said arching her back into his touch.

Stephen chuckled against her skin and nodded his head, his kisses trailing further and further down her body, his tongue sneaking through his lips to lick between her folds, sucking her clit into his mouth. This was just a teaser, a warm up but he wanted to lay it all out and show her what he could do and he wanted to hear those sounds coming from her.

Karen: She arched herself into him "Stephen.." she said gripping the sheets

Stephen His name leaving her lips sent chills up his back and he kept going, his tongue working faster as it entered her warm canyon, her juices hitting his taste buds as he rolled it back and forth.

Karen: She groaned running her hands throughout his hair, as he continued to tease her, she was growing to be lost in his touch "soso good"

Stephen hummed against her, his lips kissing her nether lips as he continued thrusting his tongue in and out of her. He wanted to bring her to the brink of orgasm but would deny her the pleasure until he was buried inside her tight walls. Fingers were holding her thighs apart as he thrust one more time, his face completely disappearing between her legs.

Karen: She bucked her hips against his face "Stephen..." she said shrieking

Stephen was loving this, he was learning so much about what she liked and it was going to make their sex life so much better because he was very attentive and if you kept her happy, it would always lead to good things. When he felt that she had had enough teasing, he pulled his face away, licking his lips before crawling back up her body, lips kissing lips as he grabbed his cock and lined it up at her entrance. Fingers tangled in her hair as he muffled her cries, pushing his hips forward as he entered her wet pussy.

Karen: She was about to lose it when he pulled away feeling his lips on hers again she sighed before she growled feeling him entering she gripped his back as he entangled himself in the mess of ginger locks

Stephen stilled his hips once his cock was inside her, giving the ginger haired woman time to adjust. He was bigger than most men, a blessing really, so he wasn't sure how well she would take him. When she started grinding her hips, he knew she was ready so he started moving again, slow at first but then picking up speed, his teeth nipping at any skin he could get too.

Karen: She took a moment to get used to him but then she began to grind her hips along his before she gripped his hips as he moved up and down and in and out of her "more.." she said her accent rich and her voice raspy

Stephen smirked against her skin, loving that she was craving him more and more. He was only going at half speed and when she asked for more, he leaned in, his voice low and deep. "Are you sure? I doubt you'll be able to walk later." He teased, grabbing the headboard. He pulled out of her completely before slamming his cock back inside, bottoming out immediately.

Karen: "I'm not sure you would be able to resist me if you tried" she said wrapping her legs around his waist moaned and writhing beneath him as he went faster

Stephen "Who says I would try? If you want sex, I'm ready. Always." He retorted, hips burning as he pounded harder into her, his dick hitting that sweet spot inside her.

Karen: "I'll keep that in mind" she said unable to resist and hold back from the sounds coming out of her mouth as he kept going

Stephen "Good. Now kiss me while I finish seducing you." He teased, his lips connecting to hers once again as he continued thrusting his hips. His legs and hips were burning, his hiatus body wasn't liking the strenuous activity he was currently doing but Stephen didn't care. He could tell she was close, her body squirming underneath him as he kept slamming into her gspot.

Karen: "Yes sir' she said kissing him deeply she was nearly there they were nearly there she could tell that he was tired and that the headboard was nearly about to fall off if he gripped it more "baby, flip us I'll go ontop I don't wanna exhaust you"

Stephen shivered when she called him sir, a hidden kink of his that no one knew about, which caused him to moan into the kiss. Shaky legs kept pace, his body growing weaker as he worked his cock in and out of her. When she told him to flip, he nodded, letting go of the headboard and wrapping his arms around her as he flipped over, eyes opening to look up at the redhead currently straddling him.

Karen: She rocked on her hips and laced their hands together going faster than he was before she kept bouncing up and down taking him in completely each time "I'll try not to break your wrist"

Stephen watched the redhead ride his cock, her hips thrusting fast and her perfect breasts bouncing. He squeezed her hand, his toes curling as he met her thrusts, shoving himself deeper and farther inside. He knew he was close, his cock aching for release as he moaned loudly, grabbing her head to pull her down as he kissed her fiercely.

Karen: She constricted around him and tightening and letting go as his lips met hers she groaned loudly and unashamed into his mouth "Mm baby" she said breathlessly

Stephen felt her walls loosen as she came and he moaned loudly, his own release coming out fast and deep inside her. Rope after rope of his spunk spilled inside her and he rested his forehead against hers as they both came down from the high they were riding. "God baby that was so good. You're so good." He whispered, cupping her cheeks as he kissed her again.

Karen: She was sweaty and satisfied and feeling loved "best I've ever had" she said "I like it when you call me baby" she said pulling away from his kiss and untangling her legs from his waist she wrapped her arms around him

Stephen "Now I know you're lying." He teased, kissing the tip of her nose as he cuddled her close. "And I like it when you call me sir." He smirked, nuzzling his face into the crook of her neck. "You were the best for me too, you know?"

Karen: "I was just being sarcastic when I called you that" she said laughing hoarsely "Can I be brave and bold with you for a moment?"

Stephen "Uh huh sure you were." He teased, his nose crinkling as he kissed her neck sweetly, nodding it when she asked her question. "Always babe."

Karen: "okay, here it goes" she said softly "I could see myself falling for you and that scares the hell out of me"

Stephen listened to her confession, a small smile playing at his lips, his fingers coming up to run through her sweat drenched hair. "I'm scared too because I can see it too. You're sweet, funny, sexy, and I enjoy talking to you. You're honest and I feel like I can be myself around you and you won't judge me. That's rare in our profession, you know?"

Karen: Had she not been so tired she would have had him a second time but looking at him she wanted to wait. Properly this time. "I feel the same way about you too, I hope you know that" she said nudging his nose with hers.

Stephen smiled, as he often found himself doing with Karen, and nodded. "Good. Now that that is out of the way, we should probably sleep. I want to take you out on a date tomorrow and I'll need time to prepare." He grinned, leaning in to kiss, letting in linger as he wrapped his arms around her. He could fall in love with her and while it scared him, he wasn't going to ru. Not this time.

Karen: She loved how his eyes slightly crinkled when he smiled too big "A proper date? I don't think I can sleep now knowing that I get to go on a date with THE Stephen Amell" she said before kissing him deeply and softly " If we fall we'll be brave enough together"

Stephen "I'm no one compared to the Karen Gillan. Fiery redhead with a great ass and an even better personality." He teased, leaning over her as the kiss deepened. "Its not an if baby. It's when we fall." He corrected, reaching over to flip off the lamp.

Karen: "You mention of all things my hair and my arse?" She said quizzically "it's usually my legs" she said " When we fall , which is feeling sooner rather than later"

Stephen laughed and crinkled his nose. "Well I figured naming off everything would take too much time. Let's just say I like it all. Legs included." He smirked, shaking his head. "I'll remember them wrapped around my head for weeks afterward." He listened to her words, and nodded. He was definitely feeling a sensation similar to love already and knew that the longer they spent time together, the easier it would be to day. "Tey to sleep or I'll give you another orgasm and you'll have no choice."

Karen: She smiled and curled into him "Hmm well I wouldn't mind falling asleep to everything you adore about me" she said smirking at him "As will I" she said winking at him in the now darkened room "well that's not a threat to me at all."

Stephen "Well then in that case..." he said, his eyes narrowing mischievously. He kissed her lips, then her chin, left a few more marks on her neck as he trailed down her body. He breathed in her scent, a soft moan falling from his lips as he finally reached his destination. Lifting the covers, he buried his head between her legs and without warning, stuck his tongue between her folds and started cleaning her up.

Karen: She chuckled as she watched the man she was falling in love with disappear under the covers "Mhm" she said humming as he lapped at her folds "just like that.."

Stephen loved the taste of her and as he continued lapping at her folds, he thought about yesterday. How he'd boarded a plane to fly to her, with no intentions of sleeping with her, and now they were going on a date and he felt like things were finally going to work out for him. He was falling hard and fast and that terrified him but Karen was perfect and he wanted to make her happy. "Yeah?" He whispered, nose nuzzling into her clit before sucking it into his mouth, two fingers disappearing into her still stretched pussy.

Karen: She had no idea that this treasure of a man and her would click as well as they did but here they were clicking in the most intimate of ways. She writhed under his touch still sensitive from before "Youyou're so good to me" she said bucking her hips.

Stephen used his other hand to pin her hips down, the strength from all those years of the Salmon Ladder making it easy to overpower her. He continued sucking on her clit as his fingers slid in and out of her. He added a third, scissoring them apart as he stretched her further. She was intoxicating and he knew he could stay in and have sex with her all weekend...or at least for the night.

Karen: She was panting at how vigorously he was moving his fingers in and out of her she was dripping but not letting go yet, she rolled her back into his touch each time, his strong hand pinning her to mattress had her gasping "Baby..." she said growling as he sucked on her sensitive nub more and more. "Don't stop.."

Stephen "I'm not baby. Don't worry. Im going to make you feel so good." He teased, before diving right back in. His tongue joined his fingers, tastebuds noticing the salty taste of his own cum mixed with her juices. He could get used to this and didnt want it to stop, especially if she was going to keep.making those sounds. He curled his tongue, a hidden talent no one knew about, and swirled his tongue in circles inside her. ,

Karen: "Shit.." she said rolling her hips at his last dive into her she wrapped her legs around his head and pressed closer ripping the sheet off the bed at his movements "babe.."

Stephen ignored her whispered words, his mind focusing on getting her off before he fuckrd her again. He knew she would mind back to back orgasms because what woman did? Her legs wrapping around his head pushed his tongue further into her, the tip barely hitting that sweet spot inside her. Hearing a loud moan from her spurred him on as he kept hitting it, harder and faster.

Karen: She came undone in his arms she wasn't sure she could have held on much when he found that spot and hit it a few times "mhm baby, mhmm shh..." she said incoherently

Stephen: "Be loud for me love." He said, wanting to hear how good she sounded. He lapped up the juices she gave him, licking his lips as he crawled back up her body and pressed his lips to hers. He slid his tongue easily through her lips as his cock quickly entered her moist cavern.

Karen: She growled before tasting his lips on hers "Damn." She said gripping his hips "I don't wanna break your eardrums.." she said kissing his neck before biting his flesh softly.

Stephen "That wouldn't be good at all." He whispered, thrusting his hips into her again, his hard cock immediately hitting that spot inside her. "But you dont have to muffle yourself either. I love hearing the woman I'm with being vocal. It's an ego boost babe." He added, a playful smirk in his lips before he kissed her again.

Karen: She smirked and then stared at him blankly "Um I'm sorry run that by me again"

Stephen "Which part? The part about where I love you being loud or the part about how its an ego boost?" He smirked, a mischievous grin crossing his lips.

Karen: "The part about you being with me"

Stephen "Oh. Well, I love hearing the woman I'm with being vocal. Whether that is just sexually or more personal." He teased, kissing the tip of her nose.

Karen: She groaned both out of pleasure and frustration. "why are you this way?"

Stephen "What was is that? Crazy about you or just me in general?" He smirked, thrusting his hips as he bottomed out inside her once again.

Karen: "Both" she said blushing deeply before whimpering

Stephen "You can thank my mom. Its all because of her." He whispered, sucking her earlobe into his mouth as he let her whimpers fill the room. He took his time this time, slowly rotating his hips inside her.

Karen: "Really don't want to talk about your parents in this position" she said whimpering more before shrieking

Stephen "You asked though babe." He laughed and nodded, moving from her ear to her lips, his tongue easily sliding into her mouth as he sped up his movements, her moans muffled but still turning him on. "I could get used to hearing this." He whispered, his head spinning as he joined in, their moans matching perfectly in the huge room.

Karen: She groaned and lost it with him "so close love, soso very close"

Stephen "Then come with me, Ren." He whispered, hips thrusting deeper into her as his cock hit that spot inside her. He kept hitting it, her moans getting louder and faster, his body sore and mind blown as he released deep inside her womb, teeth nipping at her neck as she let go at the same time. "Fuck baby."

Karen: She loved being called Ren, everything about him made her feel like she could be herself completely with him and she just met him "So close" she said as she felt him that spot again, and again, before seeing stars and her legs trembling under him "shit.." she said before shrieking losing it completely

Stephen felt her release coating his dick and he moaned, his voice matching hers as she came harder than any previous orgasm. They were panting, their bodies covered in sweat, and he still found her the most beautiful woman in the world. "God you're literally perfect." He smirked, kissing her lips. "If I wasn't so tired, I'd clean you out again but fuck baby, you wore me out."

Karen: "Funny I was thinking the same thing about you" she said kissing him deeply "I won't be able to walk I don't think.." she said "you will have to be my uber."

Stephen "Oh yeah? At least we know we're sexually compatible." He teased, kissing her lips again before chuckling softly. "I will gladly be your Uber. I told you you wouldn't be able to walk and I meant it. It's only fair I be your driver."

Karen: "Yeah I mean did you think we wouldn't be?" she said tracing his lips with her fingertips "I didn't think it was possible but here we are"

Stephen laughed and shook his head. "Well no. But most of my sexcapades end at one time. We did it twice." He said, kissing her neck. "I'm glad I was able to prove you wrong. You better get used to it too. If your legs aren't jelly by the morning, then I'm not doing my job as a lover."

Karen: "Is that what you were auditioning for here? To be my lover?" she said wrapping her arms around him

Stephen chuckled and shrugged his shoulders. "I'll take whatever you're ready to give. If that's just a lover, well, I'm cool with that. I said no rush and I meant it." He explained, pulling out of her softly and collapsing next to her.

Karen: She smiled over at him "You know I wouldn't mind in the future this becoming...this becoming something that is great.." she said afraid to say the word relationship when it came to someone, she cared about Steve a lot and didn't want to jinx them. Looking over at the man beside her she kissed his chest and said "goodnight lover." before she closed her eyes and said "I'm in so much trouble with this one..."

Stephen "I wouldn't either. I think we need some time to really gauge what this is between us but for now, let's just have fun with one another." He retorted, his fingers running through her hair as she kissed his chest. "Goodnight Ren." He whispered, shifting so that he could wrap his arms around the redhead. The last words she spoke had him smiling as he stayed quiet, nuzzling into her neck before letting his eyes fall closed.

[hope-for-olicity]

Hidden Thoughts and Feelings

Set during 2x14 when the team encounters The Clock King. Felicity questions whether she is still needed on Team Arrow. An alternate version to what happened on the show.

This is my entry for week three of Olicity Hiatus Fic-a-thon 2018 organized by @thebookjumper - the prompt is Hidden. Also available on AO3.

Felicity sat on the cold floor in the dark bunker with a flashlight in her mouth trying to sort out the mess that had been her computer mainframe. Had being the keyword. Thanks to William Tockman aka The Clock King all she was left were a bunch of melted parts.  Some of it was salvageable of course, she was putting the pieces into piles to figure out what parts she absolutely needed to replace.

Felicity took the flashlight out of her mouth. This was easier when Digg was holding the flashlight but he had gone to get food. Oliver and Sara were gone to Sara’s welcome home party, so Felicity was left by herself to wallow in her own mess. She couldn’t do anything right nowadays.

Until recently, well until Sara arrived, Felicity felt like she had an important role to play on team arrow. She brought her skills to the table. Felicity thought she really was helping the mission. Now, Sara could do everything she could do, plus she could fight. Felicity really wasn’t need anymore, perhaps she was causing more trouble than she was helping to stop.

Best she leave the team on their own. She would clean up the mess with Tockman, then move on. She enjoyed being part of the team but she no longer felt she was necessary. Felicity knew Oliver would be fine, he had Sara for literally everything.

*****

“I’m back and I’ve got Big Belly Burger!” Diggle announced as he walked down the stairs. He looked around the empty bunker. “Felicity?”

Diggle went to look around near the servers, it was still pretty dark but Felicity was tiny. Nope, no Felicity. Digg shook his head before seeing a piece of white paper near the now fried computer terminal.

Digg,

Thanks so much to you and Oliver for letting me be part of your team for so long. I truly enjoyed my time with you hunting bad guys but it is now time for me to move on. I will submit my notice at Queen Consolidated as well. It’s time for a fresh start for me. Don’t worry you will fine without me, Sara is very talented. Please don’t come looking for me, everything is fine. I’m just not good at goodbyes.

Felicity

PS. Consider The Clock King handled

Digg hit dial on his cell phone before he even finished the brief note. “Oliver, man, you have to come back to the bunker, it’s Felicity, it’s urgent.”

*****

Oliver felt his heart stop when he heard Digg say it was Felicity and urgent. Digg said he didn’t think she was hurt but not thinking and knowing were two different things.

Oliver rushed down the steps of the bunker. “Digg, any luck locating her?”

Digg stood in the darkened bunker, he held up a tablet. “Not yet but I’m a little limited here. No wifi here.”

Oliver began to pace. “Where would she go? What was she thinking? Why would she leave? Digg, we have to get her back.”

Digg walked up to Oliver, put a hand on his shoulder to stop him from pacing. “Hey, hey, man slow down. Where is Sara?”

Oliver looked down at his shoes. “She’s still at Laurel’s. She offered to come but I told her no. I just can’t deal with her right now. Digg, Felicity is missing! Where is her note? Can I see the note?”

Diggle quickly grabbed the paper, walked back, handed it to Oliver.

Oliver tried to read the note but it was so dark. “I can’t read this! There is no light here. There are no computers here. Let’s go to Queen Consolidated, we are going to need wifi to find her.”

Oliver turned to head for the stairs, Digg stopped him. “We will find her, Oliver. We said we would protect her and we will.”

*****

Felicity knew how to stay hidden. She really hoped Oliver and Digg would heed her note, let her deal with Tockman and move on.

Felicity was crouched in the lower level of the bank this was the trap Oliver set by making a large money transfer, hopefully, Tockman would take the bait and be here shortly. She hacked into the bank’s security system, security was unaware of her, it seemed Tockman had yet to arrive.

Felicity knew she was making the right decision. She wasn’t the type of woman to pine for a man who clearly met his match. She’d stayed on far too long as it was believing some silly fantasy. She was smarter than that.

Had she not been watching the cameras as closely she may have missed the hiccup. So Tockman hacked the camera near the vault. Well, she better get going to meet him there. She wanted to end this once and for all.

*****

Oliver and Diggle were in Oliver’s office at Queen Consolidated. Oliver was waiting for his computer to boot up, who turned it off? Probably Felicity, she insisted it needed to be rebooted at least once a week for updates. She knew how he hated updates. He caught himself starting to smile.

“Where could she be Digg? Why would she leave? Did I do something?”

Diggle gave him a look with a raised eyebrow.

“Something more than usual, I mean.” Oliver looked out at Felicity’s empty desk.

“Well, you did start dating Sara,” Digg said quietly.

“I’ve dated women before. In fact, Felicity encouraged me to date McKenna. It’s not that.” Oliver knew he was being defensive, he knew Felicity didn’t see him that way. Sure she liked his abs but that was more of a respect for the effort he put in thing. Felicity didn’t see him like that, especially after Russia. She had been so disappointed in him when she saw Isobel leaving his room. He honestly felt like he failed her. He would always keep his true feelings about Felicity hidden, she deserved far more than he could offer.

“Okay, how about we go with it’s not just that? Sara also seems to have taken over some of Felicity’s duties, checking Tockman’s blood, doing web searches…” Digg trailed off.

“Felicity can’t possibly think that Sara could replace her in ANY way? She’s Felicity Smoak! She’s the best!” Oliver through his hands in the air.

“Maybe you should tell her that when we find her. She might be thinking just that. I tried to reassure her earlier tonight, clearly, that didn’t work.” Diggle took a seat on Oliver’s couch.

The computer beeped. “Thank goodness, it’s finally on. Now, where to search?” Oliver sat at his desk, logged in.

Digg walked over, looked down at Oliver’s computer. “Well, she said she was going after Tockman. So she must have some idea how to find him.”

“You don’t think she’d go to the bank on her own? It’s too obvious. It would be like hiding in plain sight. Felicity is smarter than that.” Oliver typed “Felicity Smoak” into the Google search engine.

“Really? You think that will work? Do you think she posted where she was going on the internet so you can type her name in and find her?!” Diggle’s voice rose. He took a breath. “Sorry, I don’t know how to find her either. Felicity is the one who knows where to look.”

“It’s okay, Digg. I’m worried too. We said we would protect her, now she’s run off to take on the bad guy alone. What was she thinking?!” Again in looked at Felicity’s empty desk. “Okay, we can’t just sit here. On the off chance, she is at the bank she needs us. Let’s go.”

*****

Felicity managed to reach Tockman before he was able to break into the bank safe. She hid behind one of the pillars, keeping her out of sight of the security camera. She began hacking Tockman’s phone. She uploaded the same virus he had put in her system at the Bunker on his phone. She was almost finished typing when an arm yanked her from her hiding place.

“Well, what do we have here.” Tockman sneered.

“Stop right there! Your time is up Tockman! Get it? The Clock King has run out of the time”

“I suppose you think you are funny but I’m not going to be stopped by a small woman in knock-off high heels. Now, if you just let me be on my way, no one needs to get hurt.” Tockman pointed a gun at Felicity.

“I’ll have you know, I am funny and these are designer! I just got them on discount. Also, you have underestimated the wrong woman.” Felicity was typing on her cell phone behind her back as she spoke. Felicity hit send on her cell phone causing Tockman’s cell phone located in his breast pocket to self-destruct. The shock caused Tockman to fire his gun before collapsing to the ground.

Oh no! I killed a man. I didn’t mean to kill him just to stop him. She suddenly realized she was on the ground. How did that happen? Then she felt the pain. Tockman shot her. She looked back over at Tockman, noticed he was breathing.

She had been shot. Oh no! This was not part of the plan. Felicity struggled but managed to get out of the bank without being seen. Turns out looking at security cameras for hours is a good way to know where not to go. She carried her heels in her hand as she made her escape as quickly as possible. She knew the security guards would call the police. Tockman would be arrested.

Being shot hurt! She knew she there was no choice, she had to call Digg. So much for doing things on her own. It’s not like she could go to the hospital. She quickly hit dial “Digg, I’m shot. Behind bank. Don’t tell Oliver.” Then everything went dark.

*****

Felicity woke up to see the Arrow standing above her. “I told Digg, no Oliver.”

“Too bad. You got him.” Oliver leaned down, scooped her up off the ground. Diggle pulled up with the van, Oliver got them inside.

“Is she okay?” Diggle looked back from the front seat.

“She will be. She has to be. We need to hurry, Digg. She’s lost a lot of blood.” Oliver could not keep the fear out of his voice.

Digg accelerated as they headed to the bunker. As soon as they arrived, Oliver rushed to put Felicity on the exam table. Diggle placed some large emergency lights around the area as the lights were still blown from the earlier attack. Diggle quickly turned to Oliver. “I need you to stand back now. I need to work. You are too emotionally involved in this. I will tell you if I need you.”

“There must be something I can do!” Oliver looked down at Felicity covered in blood. He wasn’t even sure where the blood came from.

Diggle sighed. “You can help me get her shirt off, then turn her on her side. We need to find out where the bullet went in, fast.”

Oliver helped Diggle remove Felicity’s shirt, he then rolled her on her side facing him so Digg could inspect her back. He heard a low “Oliver,”

Oliver looked down to see Felicity drifting in and out of consciousness. “Felicity, baby, I’m here. I’m not leaving you.” He grabbed her hand, squeezing it in reassurance.

“Got it! You are going to have to hold her still while I get the bullet out. It’s just beneath her shoulder. Can you handle that, Oliver?” Digg looked at him seriously. Oliver nodded.

*****

Felicity was laying on her stomach on the table covered with a blanket her hand still in Oliver’s as she slept. Oliver sat on a stool, he ran his fingers through her hair. He came so close to losing her tonight. It scared him more than anything ever.

“You have to tell her now.” Diggle’s voice seemed louder in the silent room.

Oliver looked up startled from his thoughts. He looked over at Digg.

“Oliver, you have to tell her you love her. We both know how close we came to losing her tonight. You can’t keep your love hidden any longer. Life is too short.” Diggle got up. “She seems stable. I’m going to head home. I know you will stay with her.”

Oliver nodded. He watched Diggle leave.

The room was quiet again, minus the machines monitoring Felicity. Oliver looked down at her. Digg was right. He did love Felicity but she deserved so much more. It would be selfish to put that on her. Besides it would make her uncomfortable, it’s not as though she shared these feelings.

“Oliver.” Felicity stirred. She slowly opened her eyes and smiled. “You’re still here.”

“I told you I’m not going anywhere and I hope neither are you. Digg took care of the bullet but you are going to have a scar.”

“Cool, my very own scar. Oliver, are you mad at me?” Felicity suddenly felt worried.

“Mad?! No. I’m so glad you are okay. You really scared me. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Felicity smiled again. “I feel floaty.”

“That’s the pain meds, Digg gave you. Why don’t you try to sleep?”

“I can try.” Felicity smiled again.

“One more thing, we need to talk about your note when you wake up. I don’t want you to leave, Felicity. I’ll do whatever you want so you will stay. Felicity, you are my girl.”

“Love you, Oliver.” Felicity closed her eyes.

“Love you too, Felicity” He knew she had not heard him but it was so freeing to tell her. Maybe Digg was right.

Oliver looked down again at sleeping Felicity,  he knew that once she recovered they were going to have to have a serious talk. No more secrets, no more hidden thoughts - just them.

@memcjo @wherethereissmoak @green-arrows-of-karamel @mel-loves-all @spaztronautwriter @charlinert @tdgal1 @oliverfel4 @vaelisamaza @coal000 @miriam1779 @laurabelle2930 @onceuponarrow @cruzrogue @lageniuswannabe @blondeeoneexox

[survivor-mountmerapi]

Ep. 6: “You never know what some people may have up their sleeve” - Rachel

DeNara

ARE YOU KIDDING ME!!!!!!!!!!!! THEY VOTED OUT JAMES!!!!!! I AM SOOOOOOOOO FLIPPING MAD!!!!!!!!! HE WAS THE ONLY PERSON IN THIS GAME I WANTED TO PLAY WITH!!!!!

This has Julia written all over it.... I don't expect to make the merge now, but if I do, I am going for blood....

Julia

HOW ARE PIETRO AND I STILL HERE?!?!?! This is sexy

Pietro

I cant believe this allow me and Julia to survive another round. We not only have now a 4 person alliance, but Julia told me she has an idol. We are running this game and we are here to stay, and we will keep slaying the favs. Julia was telling me earlier the day that she was gonna play her idol cause everyone was definately voted her out, but when I talked to Rachel I realised there was a chance she could flip, so I quickly made a group chat with me, Julia, Anastasia and Rachel to try to get them on our side... and it worked!! I LITERALLY THOUGHT IT WAS GONNA TAKE US HOURS TO FLIP THEM, and they decided to flip in 5 minutes.

AND ALSO, this people are playing so stupid! Like Elle in tribal saying how much she trusted James, and how Moth backstabbed her in the past like girllll why are you revealing so many info to EVERYONE?? you are a warrior or a wannabe?? I'm probably sounding very cocky but damn it this people are all so easy to read!!

Raffy

So. Much. Happened. Tonight. Firstly, I think DeNara and Nicholas both realize that Warriors are on the bottom after watching the other tribe's tribal council. This put them both in Mess mode. According to Steven, Nicholas told him about a 5-person alliance that was created with Madi, Gian, DeNara, Ginnifer, and Nicholas. Nicholas said it was created to take out the Winners (Steven and I). He said to Steven that he wants to work with us and to get the tribe to a 2-2-2 tribe split by voting out Ginnifer. Voting Ginnifer did not require this amount of effort as I believe she was the easiest target tribe. But wait. It gets messier. DeNara comes to me and tells me that Nicholas is snaking everyone on the tribe. She says that Nicholas came up with the whole alliance, and that he's been trying to play Steven and I (which we already kind of figured from Gian and Madi). Steven told her that Nicholas was throwing her under the bus which prompted to send quote receipts to both of us about how Nicholas has been playing puppet master to get the newbies and winners to target each other. Now, DeNara fully thinks Nicholas is trying to snake her, and she created an alliance with Steven and I to get him out pre-merge. Meanwhile, this required no prompting from Steven or I as we watched the Warriors eat themselves alive without even going to tribal council. These people are a Mess. And I love it. DeNara also told me that she thinks Julia is running the other tribe from head to toe. She believes that Julia is the reason one of her allies (James) was voted out. Therefore, I told her about Julia's idol to get her to target her even more come merge. DeNara seems very willing to vote out Julia, and to enact some revenge from another ORG which I happily fueled. Now, I can go into merge with someone who will target Julia FOR me. This is what happens when you mess with me and try to play me. Julia whenever you read this, I hope it was worth voting out Ellie. Kisses ~Raffy

DeNara

Well, Nicholas is screwed. I spilled the tea to Raffy and Steven about how hard Nic has been playing and they spilled some tea back. Nicholas has been playing all of us and got caught. They even tried to use me as a scape goat. Works for me because now I have an alliance with Steven and Raffy to get out Nicholas and get revenge for James by taking out Julia. TEA, she has an idol apparently. At least I know now! I really hope this goes my way.

DeNara

Nicholas seems like they almost want to get voted out! They are so chaotic. Nicholas was on call with me and Steven saying we should vote out Ginnifer. Then they told me privately it was to lower our target and then take out the winners. THEN messaged Raffy saying he was their Ride or Die! oh my goodness! Nicholas you are a great person, I really think you are fun to video chat with, but this intense premerge play is gonna get you voted out next.

Raffy

Nicholas is already thinking about tribal before the challenge has even ended. He's already trying to "manipulate" everyone into voting Ginnifer when it would not even take half the effort he is putting in to do it. I'm sure everyone would be happy to vote out Ginnifer, but Nicholas is playing so messy that we have to get rid of him now. He's calling me his "ride or die" and how we have "so much in common" when I have barely had two conversations with the dude. I suggested to Revenge R Us (DeNara, Steven, and I) that we could potentially throw next challenge if we win this challenge to get Nicholas out pre-merge. I feel like a devil on their shoulder.

Elle

God I hope it's actually round 6 😅 Not entirely sure lol uhm anyway yayyy Pictionary went great despite me rushing to get dinner done and then setting up my tablet on call 😂 and photoshop temporarily fighting against me its fine we did it folks we made it to merge✨ well after tribal tomorrow for the others. Now the annoying part: I severely doubt I'm lasting more than like, one, two rounds post merge 😔. I think by being an important piece on so many winning challenges (shape memory, with DeNara and Nicholas in Storytelephone, having a big role in the movie trailer challenge (which won in my heart ❤️), and being the drawer in the Pictionary) I'm like... well I'm entirely and utterly screwed 😂. I can hope people like me enough to keep me around maybe? But that's not really how the game is played... oh well. Oh and because I didn't make an earlier confession: I'm so upset they kicked off James it completely blindsided me D: my buddyyyyyyyyy ugh I should've known that if the math was obvious to me it was to the others as well, it was smart to boot an og warrior :(. James didn't deserve this though!! Upsetting, completely and utterly.

Ginny

Me and the warriors strong alliance have a huge plan in store sucks to suck

Gian

Nicholas being a pot stirrer, but that’s gonna cost him his game :)

DeNara

Holy Crap! This is pure chaos! We found out we we were going to tribal and it was scrambling and messages from everyone to everyone. After talking to Raffy and Steven, I made a group chat with the newbies calling out all of Nicholas' chaos. The 5 of us are splitting the votes between Nicholas and Ginnifer in case Nic plays an idol. My brain is hurting today lol.

Raffy

DeNara started a 5 person alliance with Steven, Gian, Madi, and I called "Down to Business." She did this so the plotting of Nicholas' demise can begin. First of all, Ginnifer and Nicholas are throwing everyone's name under the sun out. Secondly, Nicholas has been PM'ing Madi and Gian about what they should do NEXT TRIBAL after they get Ginnifer out. I have no idea why he would ask that because we have to deal with THIS TRIBAL at the moment. Thirdly, it seems Nicholas has been trying to throw the Winners under the bus. Or, at least, he's trying to set himself up to play the middle between the Wannabes and the Winners. However, his plan only works if we don't talk to each other which we did. Now, it's a #NicholasExposedParty over in our alliance. The plan is to split the vote 3-2 to get out Nicholas and, in case he has an idol, vote out Ginnifer. This plan should work because even if Nicholas votes with Ginnifer he gets out. Plus, even if Nicholas votes for Ginnifer, it ties 3-3-1 which would send Nicholas out. Additionally, I threw Julia under the bus hard to Madi and Gian, making them not trust her at all. It's all coming together for me tbh. These next few rounds should be HIGHLY entertaining if you are a Raffy Stan or a Drama Stan.

Moth

I’m gonna make the merge omg. My life in the game was definitely on the line, I was worried about getting voted tonight because it was between me and Elle and I think they’d vote me out first

DeNara

Morning of my first tribal day..... I really hope I can trust Steven and Raffy tonight. Really my fate rests with them for now. I trust Steven more because he seems to play a more loyal game. Raffy didnt want to make an alliance chat last night and that is suspicious to me... I really hope he isnt lying to me abs Revenge R Us is strong

Julia

Pietro and I are low key running this game right now it’s kind of amazing. I am so here for this it’s iconic. We’ve gotten what we’ve wanted each tribal so far and people really haven’t figured it out yet. I’m hoping Steven still wants to link with us at merge because I think the three of us could run this shit

Rachel

Well, I know the merge is upon us. The plan is for hopefully Gian and Madi to survive the vote (i'm going to be praying all day at work; i miss them!) and us six make it to merge(which includes myself, julia, pietro, anastasia, gian, and madi). We could then have a 1/6 shot of winning this if we can convince someone from the other side to flip at the vote! but realistically, it will be hard and you never know what some people may have up their sleeve. *cough cough* raffy *cough cough*. This game is so mentally stressing, but I love it!

Anastasia

We won the competition thanks to Elle's really good drawing skills. I have a feeling merge is coming up so me and my alliance are making plans for majority. We know that if we have Madi and Gian, all we need is one more person and we have majority. So, we just need to persuade someone to join us before it's too late. I am thinking that we could recruit Moth or Elle (or both) but they could still be loyal to the warriors. Plus we voted their fellow warrior out... So I don't know what they would do. What if I just threw the idea out to both of them? I think I have nothing to lose? AHHH maybe I do have something to lose because I cant like expose our plans.

Moth

The tea is... I have no clue what’s gonna happen after tonight, I’m not sure anyone does but I feel like I definitely would have been voted out had we not won this challenge —

Nicholas

We finally are going to tribal! I’m a little nervous but hopefully the plan to vote out Ginny works. I’ve been using Ginny this whole game with the trading gear back and forth and etc. I think I’m the only person Ginny talks to. I got Ginny who was already people’s target to make herself even more of a target by throwing out lots of names. I also tested people by having Ginny tell them to vote me. Steven and Raffy immediately messaged me and Gian told me only after I was talking to him but that’s probably because he didn’t care what Ginny was saying. Hopefully Ginny doesn’t blow up and call me out at tribal when she starts getting votes.

Steven

https://youtu.be/nLX0HYo7dh4

[porthavenhq]

Welcome to Porthaven, Ellie! We can’t wait to meet Tristan Morello!

Please look over the acceptance checklist and submit your blog within the next 24 hours. If there is a problem or a prior obligation and you need more time than provided, just message the main and we will gladly extend!

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　OUT OF CHARACTER　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Name: Ellie Pronouns: She/Her Age: 21+ Timezone: EDT Activity Level: I have work from 9am-5pm - I lurk during that time, maybe post if work is really slow. My evenings are usually free though. I’ll be on and post at least once a day. Taking into account (sometimes sudden) muse drops, I’d probably give myself a 5/10. Triggers: N/A Anything Else: I’m so psyched for this RP! If you need any help with lists or anything like that, feel free to ask (I enjoy cultivating and updating lists for some reason) *shrug face*

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　CHARACTER INFORMATION　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Name: Tristan Morello Age: 07/21/1997 Gender: Male FC: Marlon Teixeira

Character Biography

The story of Tristan’s birth and subsequent abandonment was unremarkable. His father was a businessman, in the States for only a few days at a conference. There, he met Tristan’s mother: a charismatic, enigmatic beauty. Allured and intrigued by each other, the fling was over as soon as it had started: dinner, drinks, and a night neither of them have much of a memory of. With no father in the picture and her own career in mind, Tristan’s mother made a decision: she would carry the child, but that was all. Within hours being discharged from the hospital and not wanting to go through the time-consuming wait and process of an adoption agency, Tristan’s mother drove out of state, left the infant outside of a police department, and then promptly left. It wasn’t half an hour before the baby’s cries attracted the officers inside. They searched the area for an hour or so before contacting Child Protective Services. With nothing except the infant’s clothes and blanket, CPS named the child and had a physician look him over to officially give an estimated DOB. Unsurprisingly, the doctor told them that the baby was only a few days old. After some investigations which turned up nothing, Tristan started making his rounds in foster homes.

As with any system, Tristan was placed in good homes and bad homes. Homes that obviously were in it for the stipend; homes that truly wanted him to feel safe and wanted. However, all of them were merely temporary solutions. As a child, he was told that each home was a “new start”. Despite social workers telling him this wasn’t his fault, as a child, Tristan felt as though he was always doing something wrong and that’s why none of the fosters would adopt him. He felt as though he had to keep reinventing himself to be a more loveable, ideal child, even though he didn’t have quite a grasp on what either meant. By the time he was ten, he was starting to experience a flimsy sense of self from all the changing personas of what he thought a good, adoptable child would be.

There was one beacon of hope for him. When he was eleven, he was placed into a home of a couple who seemingly couldn’t have children of their own. For two years, it seemed as though his dedication to cultivating an ideal child had paid off. They seemed to love and adore him. He felt safe and well cared for. As his third year with them approached, Tristan started to seriously think (and hope) that they would end up adopting him. However, he let his hopes get the better of him: the couple ended up conceiving. As the pregnancy went on, the prospect and preparations for their biological child slowly started to push Tristan out of the picture. Of course, Tristan did his best to keep face and keep up his performance, but there was little he could do to win back their full attention or affection. He didn’t know what he had done wrong. It just got worse when the child arrived. With their attention on a newborn, teenage Tristan started to get lost in the shuffle, which stung, especially from them.

Tristan realized that all his careful cultivation had been in vain. He had tried his best and had still failed. He found himself unable (or perhaps a combination of unable and unwilling) to articulate why he was feeling so hurt. So, angry, jealous, and no longer held back by wanting to present as an ideal, adoptable child Tristan tried “being himself” and doing what he could to focus his foster parents’ attention back on himself. He started hanging out with the wrong crowd at school, started playing hooky, and hanging out on the streets. His grades dropped, he got into a few fights, stayed out late, and was even found with a cigarette on him. Of course, his attempts at getting the couple focused on him again worked the opposite way he wanted it to, and the couple ended up returning him to the system. He didn’t realize until later that he did more harm than good to both himself, the family, and their relationship.

Back in the system, Tristan kept getting shuffled from home to home, now more frequently as he had given up trying to be good. Sinking into bitterness and cynicism, he became hard to handle and started to reject any idea that he would ever get adopted out of the system. Being “unadoptable” weighed on his mind, but he was unwilling to go back to being good only for his efforts to backfire on him again. He had learned his lesson and wouldn’t be taken in as the hopeful fool ever again. His destructive habits continued, slowly getting more severe until he finally became of age and got thrown out of the foster care system itself.

Ill-equipped to deal with life outside the system, Tristan promptly found himself homeless. Not that he cared, his time on the streets with “friends” had prepared him (to an extent) for this. His times roaming the tougher side of town had given him street smarts and resources that polite society usually rejected. Through connections and his own charm, he built up his own network that spanned a few towns and began couch surfing in exchange for labor. Other times, he was able to get small, part-time, or odd jobs. In some ways, he’s still a foster child being shuffled from house to house. Sometimes it’s a place on the street, but he puts himself there through his own resources and cunning. He doesn’t stay anywhere for long, just long enough to finish a job, satisfy his own desires, get enough money for food, and find his next connection. He doesn’t commit to anywhere or anyone. He knows what a mistake that is.

He’s known about Porthaven since being a child and has always been intrigued by the area’s acceptance of Mystiques. Finally, his network and his wanderings have brought him into town. Only time will tell if the people and places, like all others, will be temporary. Tristan’s not optimistic. More than likely, it will be yet another blip on the map. An X and a cross-off on a list. Another town for a few hookups, maybe a scam or two, a buffet, a small job…

Yes, Porthaven will be just another town to leech off of. Right?

Headcanons

One of Tristan’s favorite meals is spaghetti and meatballs. He also favors Olive Garden breadsticks.

Tristan likes hanging around places with trains (yard, tracks, stations) and the roofs of buildings.

Skills Tristan has picked up from drifting and just living his life have been: street smarts, juggling, lock picking, skateboarding, climbing, parkour, and flipping objects into their hands using their feet.

Tristan gives himself a new, street name for every home he’s lived in or town he’s drifted in and out of. Some of his nicknames include Milo, Mike, Fritz, Boris, Butch, Homer, Dan, Rags, and Bozo. This has not helped with his vague sense of roots, self, or identity.

While trying to be a productive member of society and not starve, Tristan has worked many odd, part-time jobs including landscaping, handy work, cleaning, cashier, pet sitter, and waiter.

Tristan tries to find college towns if he can. Why? There’s usually some event with free food. All he has to do is act like a new commuter or transfer looking to get involved in campus activities.

Most of Tristan’s trists are well calculated. He uses hookups mainly for his ego, a fleeting sense of “love” and being wanted, and food. He knows his goals going in and doesn’t see it as much as manipulation as survival. Still, he does derive some amusement from watching the upper class or others desperate for affection play into his games. Besides, the older he gets, the more he thinks his foster parents saw his foster home shuffle as a game. No one was committed to him. Why should he be committal to anyone?

Tristan relishes in his freedom. No more foster parents telling him what to do as if they had any hold on him. No more system moving him around. He can go anywhere and do anything. His constant moving means limited consequences. The more he drifts and sees the world freely, despite his limited means, the more settling down becomes something to dread.

As someone with a sometimes limited supply of food, one of Tristan’s biggest pet peeves is food waste. While he doesn’t outright beg, he uses food banks to his advantage and is not above dumpster diving near restaurants or watching people throw out food and then taking it for himself after cutting off parts that look bitten off of.

Despite his inner turmoil and (self)destructive tendencies, Tristan doesn’t act all that bitter outwardly. Sure, one could get “bad boy” vibes off of him, but he still acts pleasant and care-free. In that way, he is still playing a role. Only, this time around, he acts less like an ideal person and more authentically (whatever that means for him for the time being). This is for survival now, not adoption.

Tristan’s greatest fear and greatest hope are intertwined: he hopes to find a family and people who love him unconditionally with no pretenses. However, he gets in his own way and uses relationships selfishly since he is terrified of being and becoming attached, loved, and vulnerable and fears that rejection, abandonment, and being used will follow soon after he’s lulled into a false sense of security.