#he's showboating your honor

[twistedwonderlandimaginesblog]

I’ve been thinking about this request, what is their S/O’s ex tried to fight them for their affection 😳, how would they react? Use any characters you want

Floyd Leech:

This was the worst fight your ex could’ve started. You tried to remain civil which meant keeping Floyd out of it for the time being, trying to convince them to just back off if they knew what was good for them. They didn’t seem to believe you when you told them your actual boyfriend was quite possessive, and while you get that it was a normal tactic, they should’ve just taken your resounding ‘no’ as an answer the first time around. You couldn’t hide this from Floyd forever as then you’d be on the other end of a harsh squeezing if you betrayed his trust, but you were hoping your ex might show some sense. The true answer to you getting peace was clearly violence as your ex made a move in person, with Floyd right within earshot; you let out a deep sigh and tried not to think about the headache this would give you, knowing Floyd was stalking over to see exactly what was going on. There’s a childish glee on his face when he’s told this is your ex and you knew in that instant he stopped seeing them as a person, they were now simply prey waltzing right into the predator’s mouth.

Leona Kingscholar:

You were used to confiding your problems in Leona. He’d either offer a solution, or he’d simply listen and nod along to allow you to get your feelings out. There were times where you did so when he was lounging, eyes closed, potentially asleep, but it still felt good to tell him even if he wasn’t hearing you. But he always listened, his ears turned in your direction, and he had noted the problem of your ex from the very beginning of your relationship. They didn’t bother him because he was secure in what choice you’d make, if it ever came to you making one, but this ex still felt like a thorn in his paw. He wished they’d take a hint and even considered saying something himself, but you hadn’t seemed fond of the idea and he wasn’t going to fight you over it. Leona would, however, take the opportunity to showboat if your ex was ever around the two of you, a protective arm wrapped around your waist as he surveyed the room. His smug smirk is enough to set your ex off but Leona doesn’t bother indulging him in a fight, faking a yawn as he tells the little herbivore to start a fight somewhere else where he could actually win.

Sebek Zigvolt:

Sebek will, as he does with most things, take this declaration from your ex very seriously. There’s a fire in his eyes when the challenge is first presented to him with you insisting it wasn’t an actual challenge, just your ex being annoying and nosy about your relationship. Still, Sebek couldn’t let it stand, saying he was fighting for your honor and your hand (despite the fact you had already chosen who has your hand). You don’t mind watching him show off and he’s surprisingly intimidating when he wants to be; the loud booming voice, his height and strength, Sebek had many positives in his corner to back him up. While you already knew who’d win the fight you enjoyed seeing Sebek display just how much he cared for you, unwilling to let your ex talk to you however he wanted and even flaying him alive when speaking of why you broke up to begin with. He has no mercy in this battle, as his grandfather had taught him, and he seemed quite proud at the end of the day when your ex finally had to admit defeat.

[queenofbaws]

Queenie in honor (and remembrance) of the bathroom couch, please indulge me in exactly what in the world the Washington’s had a couch in the bathroom for in the first place 🙏😔

"Just think about it - " Bob began, showboat mode switched fully on, " - it's multifunctional! You can set your clothes there...you can leave towels there...you can recline and read a book while the tub fills up..."

"You can be a perv and sit there watching people really go to town with the loofahs..." Beth added under her breath, speaking through the ittiest-bittiest opening of her mouth so only her siblings could hear. They started snickering immediately, Josh grinning like an asshole and Hannah going about twelve different shades of red as she pretended she was too scandalized to find it funny.

Bob and Melinda, though...they were in their own little world, him with his arms still open (as if that would convince her), her with hers crossed firmly over her chest (to show him it wasn't working).

"I think it makes perfect sense!" he finished, clapping his hands on Beth's and Hannah's shoulders before playfully leaning against them, regarding the lodge's newest addition with something like a father's pride.

"I think it's going to be full of black mold in three weeks and we're all going to end up in the ER full of spores, that's that I think," Melinda sighed, but her tone carried an obvious note of resignation: It was clear as day...the bathroom couch was there to stay.

six sentence sat(or)sunday!!!

[serendipitousseapen]

Inscryptober: week 2, Elements.

The scrybes of limbo.

Halfway between an element swap, this cycle of scrybes carry traits of two elements within them, while also becoming something completely new.

A little looser with the prompt again, but I like how they turned out, even if it don’t count.

Individual renders, ideas, and possible gameplay below the cut

Leshy, Scrybe of Monstrosities

(Between beasts and undead)

The most brusque and solitary of the scrybes, Leshy resides in the untamed, twisted, wilds of his island. Instead of a temple, he merely has his scavenging grounds, not even the disciples who have devoted themselves to him ever know where he is. Your best bet is to find a dead carcass, watch if something starts eating it, and look for the glint of his inscrybing lens in between the trees and brush. If you’re lucky, the troll might come out to feast himself.

His cards are all kinds of scavengers; whether more natural, or more cryptic, sometimes humanoid, creatures. His card’s Flesh costs give them an almost built-in corpse eater; being playable when a certain amount of creatures have died between rings of the bell. His side deck is comprised of mangled corpses: 0/2, decomposing (deal 1 damage to itself each bell ring).

Grimora, Scrybe of the Abandoned

(Between undead and technology)

All the Scrybes are old, but Grimora is the only one who sees that as being for a reason. She has taken it upon herself to curate history, preserving what others deem “obsolete”, and “worthless” within her museum-like home. She uses a cassette tape recorder to hear an object’s voice and inscrybe it into a card. She knows all the objects within her custody as old friends, and her and her attendants do not take kindly to those who disrespect them. She has recorded far too many that hold hate in their soul from past owners.

As previously stated, her cards are all abandoned old objects; with a card’s value coming from its emotional attachment rather than its physical strength. All her cards cost neglect, the amount of turns that a lane has not had any cards played in it. Her side deck is comprised of dust, 0/1 cards with undisturbed (instead of resetting the neglect a lane has, instead adds 1 to it.)

P03, Scrybe of Constructs

(Between technology and magicks)

P03 is the most showboating Scrybe of the 4. He’s constantly at work in his foundry trying to make the most broken combos and the biggest chain reactions “legally” possible. This, coupled with both his smugness at winning and his anger at losing, makes the other Scrybes avoid contact with him at all costs (some say he’s the reason Leshy is so reclusive), usually pushing his deck testing onto his own foundry workers. They see it as an honor, being able to aid him beyond their normal duties; sadly, they couldn’t beat a deck of pure rabbit pelts. This makes it that when he actually faces off against a worthy opponent, he gets beaten miserably, causing him to go back to his foundry and come up with a whole new elaborate strategy, and starting the cycle anew.

P03’s card subjects are, at first glance, sculptural. They are mostly made of carved, bent, or otherwise artisan materials, they range wildly in shape and abstraction, and often seem so badly constructed that, should they move, they would fumble around like a 1-legged mole. That is how they are in the first few steps of the foundry. When they eventually come to P03 to be finally made into a card, he imbues them with some of the energy from his own body; breaking them apart, filling in gaps, and allowing for them to become powerful cards when that energy is taken back and inscrybed. His cards start out pretty useless, but have a leveling mechanic that allows them to activate and grown into more powerful for forms when beside his side deck cards, imbuers (0/1, channeler, levels up the card next to them at the start of each turn)

Magnificus, Scrybe of demons

(Between magicks and beasts)

When you Approach or have a conversation with Magnificus, you can know that he’s devoting his mind to 3 things: 1. The social interaction at hand 2. How you may play at cards, and how he can beat you and 3. How you could be best used to further his plans. Magnificus has the most ambition of any Scrybe, not only being aware of the world beyond his, but always finding ways to affect it. This isn’t to say he is a being of pure manipulation, for once you get closer to him, he will work with you and slowly start trusting you with more both him and his plans. The closest to him are his students, who know more than anyone else, and far more than they should. His best tool is using cards to gleam knowledge of a person, as it is your best tool to know what’s under his brooding exterior.

Magnificus’ s cards are all demonic entities, taking offerings (attributed sacrifices) to be played. Magnificus inscrybes them in deals, with a card forming and being painted by Magnificus whenever he bargains with one for knowledge, power, health, or anything more. His side deck is full of offerings (0/1, ___ offering) for his demonic allies, with side deck cards playing around with factors such as card per deck limitations to diversify offering value. This also works with people, with deals made between the master and his apprentices being prized components in Magnificus’s main deck.

[arcanarix]

The Plot Thickens! // CONTESTSHIPPING / SHUUKURA

AO3 || FFN 

Harley taps onto the mic and cringes from the sharp feedback. “Testing, 1, 2, 3! Testing, 1, 2, 3! Ugh! This sounds awful! Someone fix–!” 

–his wish is granted, as the sound check folks do their jobs. One of them casts a thumbs up as a queue for him to start over.

He clears his throat, eyes scanning the impressive size of the crowd. If he has to guess, the amount of people who have arrived for this heist may fill up the entirety of the Indigo League stadium up to five times! Might he be exaggerating–he often is–he doesn’t really know or really care. This is not just a publicity stunt, you see. As always, there are ulterior motives in the world of Harley Davidson. 

“Excellent!” For emphasis, he clears his throat once more, shielding his mouth with a balled fist. “Welcome to the Slateport Grand Heist! I know the Ribbon Cup season has ended for the Hoenn region yet again, and things have gotten far too quiet to our liking. So let me set the scene–you are all cordially encouraged to embark on a scavenger hunt for a rare breed of a shiny Zorua. Its beauty is unmatched, and it’s a perfect addition to your team if you’re needing a new teammate! Not only are you going to win that Zorua to add to your party, you also win a delicious sum of cash! Don’t miss out! Sign up here! And please welcome my dear sponsor, Maybella Maple!” 

He gestures wide, loud, and proud to her as she steps onto the podium. Behind her, a huge projection screen to showcase her true ethereal beauty. She has grown well into herself in the last decade, establishing herself as a five-time Ribbon Cup winner and even upstaging Soledad and Drew! In this moment, she looks like a Queen gazing down at her subjects with a softness in her eyes, and a twinkle of that fiery, lively energy she has always possessed in her soul.

She has never dimmed in her light–not even when Harley tried to before.

Harley can’t help but respect that now.

May beams at the crowd as they roar and cheer, even earning a few wolf whistles which makes her blush just a bit from embarrassment. She lowers the mic to her level. 

“Hi everybody! If you do decide to enter this exciting heist, then we’d be more than honored to have you here! This Heist is also here to help fund for future Ribbon Cup seasons and local Pokemon Centers in the region. We hope to enhance the experience for new and old coordinators and the care which is provided in Pokemon Centers which has helped us for centuries! This is a great cause, and we wholeheartedly accept any additional donations!” 

As she steps away, Harley takes the spotlight once more, not without mouthing a ‘thank you’ to her as she gives him the space he requires to spread his arms out wide, like he’s giving the crowd a big bear hug for showing up for them. 

“We sure hope you’re ready! Sign up ends at 5PM sharp! The scavenger hunt for the Zorua begins tomorrow morning at 7AM sharp! Don’t miss out on the fun! Toodles~!” 

Harley steps away and takes in the applause, as he’s always lived for it. That’s the whole reason behind becoming a coordinator for him–the applause! The adoration! The admiration! The fame! It’s all important to him to a certain extent. It’s not as prominent of a desire now, but he still loves to gloat and showboat whenever he gets a chance to soak it all up like a sponge.

The roaring of the crowd dies down and soon they are dismissed to take care of sign ups and registration, which are held at the Pokemon Center here in Slateport. It’s good to be home. He’s forgotten what peace and relaxation is like. But he’s reminded every time he relaxes at the local beaches here. 

Harley and May retire to the back of the stadium, where they share some of the confection foods available. 

“Thanks for doing this for me, sugarplum,” he says from the bottom of his heart. This time, his sincerity is genuine. Well it has been for a long time. They’re no longer enemies or frenemies or whatever the heck people call it. “I can’t believe people actually showed up.”

“Well, why not? You’re a hot shot,” May teases, “It’s not like you to play humble.”

It’s not like her to be that observant . . . Harley only hopes she hasn’t figured out another underlying scheme of his. He may have spread a little rumor to the male identifying coordinators that winning the Zorua and the money also includes a date with this four course meal and dessert just before his eyes. If she isn’t going to date Weed Hair, then he may as well try to up the ante a little by forcing them into a little tight spot. Drew has refused to confess his feelings for the last decade or so of them all knowing each other and Harley’s grown exhausted from all of the dancing around the rosy bushes between them or whatever.

He’s had to take matters into his own hands. This time as a friend and not as some insecure POS who can’t accept there’s always going to be someone better or more talented than he is. Yes, he friggin’ says it! Leave him friggin’ be. 

Bringing a powdered donut to his lips, he hums in agreement. “No kiddin’. I’m not! So who do you think will be joining the heist?” 

“Probably everyone and their mothers,” May laughs earnestly. “It seems so fun too. I kind of wish I could enter to win that Zorua, but that doesn’t seem right since I’m helping to sponsor this event.”

“You’ve already got a golden team, hon. But I can always find a way to get another one of those Zoruas from a breeder if that’s what you want.”

“You don’t have to, but I appreciate the offer.” May sighs, bringing her glass of water to her lips. “I can’t believe how far we’ve come together. I’m really glad we became friends, Harley.” 

Harley lifts his own drink, offering a toast. “To us, hon.”

She giggles, raising her glass as well. “To us.”

Their drinkwares join together and clink, the sound seemingly reverberating through the room like a windchime. Maybe a spell has been casted–a blessing. This friendship is a blessing to them both.

Drew does learn of this Heist Harley’s hosting. He has to admit his interest is piqued. If not for any other reason, than the fact that it’s someone like Harley hosting it. 

Anything involving Harley is often a prescription for disaster in Drew’s world. He doesn’t trust that someone like him can change. Call him a skeptic. Call him a hard-ass. He doesn’t give a single crap. He’s always going to have May’s and Soledad’s back, and he’s always going to keep Harley at something much longer than an arm’s length. But no amount of space between them will ever be enough. 

Anyway, what leads him to sign up is because he’s been brought to light by an underlying motive in Harley organizing this event. Because that’s how he’s always operated before, and he’ll continue to operate that way for the rest of his life. Drew’s been raised on the philosophy of trusting patterns of behavior over someone’s words. 

Words themselves don’t sell someone’s character, after all. Anyone can say anything they want. 

Everyone with even the teensiest bit of critical thinking ability can come up with that conclusion on their own. 

Unfortunately, upon learning May is assisting him in sponsoring this event, and given May’s history of often giving Harley the benefit of the doubt in spite of knowing better . . . no one can blame Drew for wishing to investigate this event further. He’s putting on that tin hat. There’s never a pure reason behind Harley’s intentions, and those suspicions have been confirmed on his way to the Slateport Pokemon Center!

“I can’t believe Harley admitted we can ask May on a date if we win,” one contestant exclaims as he walks with his group of friends, just within earshot of Drew, who happens to be scrolling through his news feed. 

‘Old habits die hard,’ he thinks, scowling. Does he really have to rescue May AGAIN?

“Yeah, it’s not an official event but who cares? Gal’s single, gal’s famous, gal’s hot . . . “ Jackass #2 numbers off the merits of dating someone like May with those grimy probably oily as fuck disgusting fingers of his, and Drew can’t help stewing in pure agony at the thought of someone OTHER than him dating May. 

Especially if they don’t know how to treat her or appreciate her! 

“Whatever helps advertise the heist, I guess,” Jackass #3 comments, “I might decline, if I win, though.”

May not be that much of a jackass, with a little inkling of common sense and dignity! 

“Hello Drew. Good to see you again. Are you here to register?” Nurse Joy greets upon approaching the counter. 

“Yes, I’d like to enter the Slateport Heist.”

“Excellent. I have you all set up. If you’re looking for your friends, they are staying here, so you’ll run into them soon.”

Drew nods. “Thanks.”

He accepts his token and retires to his cabin. 

Yes, let the games begin, indeed. 

7 A. M. the following day comes along, and everyone’s gathered around the small stadium the city put together for Harley’s event. In the center, a medieval inspired gong, which Harley strikes to initiate the beginning of something either grand or something anticlimactic. 

Watching the contestants scramble around like headless chickens for the Zorua has been nothing short of entertaining for the Cacturne trainer, and he sits back and enjoys the show while May’s fucked off elsewhere for the time being. She monitors other areas of the city to make sure no one’s up to mischief. 

Speaking of May, she’s giggling at the prospect of all these younger trainers arguing over who deserves that Zorua. With its perfect IVs and fully trained EVs, its shiny new color, its cloaking ability . . . Zorua’s likely hiding in plain sight and these trainers are too busy arguing to see what’s right in front of them. 

She strolls through one of Slateport’s main streets and swears under her breath when she catches a familiar flash of green. A particular mossy shade of green. 

Approaching him from behind, she addresses him. 

“ . . . Drew?” 

Whipping around, Drew’s eyes widen for a brief moment before they soften immediately upon realizing that it’s her. Perfect. Just the girl he’s been looking for all of this time since the heist began. 

He needs to get her away from Harley’s scheming, grimy hands! 

“I take it you’re here because you really want that Zorua.” 

“An excellent guess, but no,” he replies, and May can’t help picking up on how his usually tense expression fades into one of pure softness. For her? Why, though? “I’m actually here for you.”

“Me?” May’s tone indicates incredulousness. Even after all of this time!? “What do I owe the pleasure?” 

“Um, why are you working on this with Harley?” 

May frowns. “We’ve established that we’ve outgrown that weird frenemy stage we had. We’re really good friends now, Drew. What’s going on?” 

Drew sighs, deciding against telling her the truth. Collaborating with Harley–or even being within Harley’s proximity–is never any good. He offers her a rose from seemingly thin air, which May graciously accepts.

“Never mind. Anyway, what’s in it for you?” 

“Nothing! It just seemed like a fun way to raise money for the Ribbon Cup.”

Things fall silent between them, but it’s comfortable. They decide to look for that Zorua together. 

They find themselves near the Slateport beach, close to where they first met. Drew looks off at the private beach area where he found May, and he can’t help but chuckle to himself. 

“What’s so funny?” May then picks up on it. “Oh. You’re thinking about how we met, huh?” 

“Yeah. On this very beach,” he says, “Hard to believe how far we’ve come.”

“Hard to believe we can stand to breathe the same air as each other.” 

Drew splutters, “I more than can just tolerate breathing the same air as you.” 

In fact, he dearly wishes to be with her for the rest of his life. He’s damn sure of it. He’s not going to admit that to her yet because he doesn’t want to scare her off.

A splash of salty water on him catches him off-guard. He turns to ese May with a mischievous grin on her face, and Drew shakes his head. 

“You rascal,” Drew teases as he joins her by the water, splashing her back. 

Suddenly, in the sand, Zorua pops out from hiding under it. Once he notices it, Drew’s mouth falls open. 

“Oh! There’s the gorgeous Zorua!” 

Zorua hops right into Drew’s arms upon recognizing him. 

Drew and May exchange a look. 

“Uh . . . do we go back to the stadium, then?” May inquires. Drew nods and they walk off, ignoring the icky wetness of their damp clothes. 

Eh. They’re going to dry off, they think. 

When they arrive back at the stadium, Harley’s relaxing on a lounge chair and enjoying the sun shining down on him. His goal must be a tan, as he’s angling a mirror to have the sun hit on his body. 

He hears the rustling of their footsteps, and he raises himself from his seat, resting his sunglasses over his head to get a view of them. 

“Oh! Excellent! Just as planned, Randy, you found Zorua!” Harley exclaims. “Well, I should say Zorua found you guys. I told it not to appear to anyone else except Drew. No one was going to be able to find Zorua by the end of the event.”

“Huh?” May cuts in, placing her hands on her hips. “Then what was the purpose of this heist anyway?” 

“Yeah,” Drew adds, “Why were you getting the male winners the opportunity to ask May out if they won?” 

“What?” May glares at Harley. “You conveniently left out that little detail! What in the world?!” 

“Sounding a bit envious there, Randy,” Harley snorts, “If you must know, I knew you were going to sign up for this heist if I put May in a jeopardizing situation. Of course nothing life-threatening. She’s just been single for too long after that jackass Brendan dated her. Lo and behold, you do enter the hunt, and not only do you earn the Zorua and the money, but you’re the one getting to ask May out on a date.”

“What were you going to do if the winner was a girl? This wasn’t well thought out,” May says, “Which is a first, coming from you.” 

Harley steps back, striking a defensive pose. His tone does indicate some sincerity but there’s no telling with Harley quite literally ever. 

He shakes his head as he vehemently disagrees. 

“I only told the men about that little addition. No girl was going to ask you out. And by the way, it wasn’t going to be a bunch of random guys, just the winner of the heist,  and I orchestrated everything so that Drew would win anyways. Like I already said, Zorua was not going to be found. Not easily. Zorua’s great at keeping itself hidden. Everything’s worked out in favor of you two finally biting the bullet and just going out already. We’re sick of you two dancing around the bush.” 

“I–!” Drew can’t even begin to express himself at that moment. He has to admit–he’s been fooled. Maybe Harley has changed for the better, in some aspects. In others, that’s still up for debate. 

Despite this, Drew may never completely warm up to Harley. 

Not even the fact that he’s dating Soledad. 

“So, Randrew Gayden, aren’t you going to finally roll for initiative like this is DND and finally give May the lovin’ on she deserves?” 

“Uhhhh . . . “ Drew’s brain may have short-circuited at that point. Picking up on that little brain fart of Drew’s, a rare moment for him indeed, May takes charge like the woman she always is because she always feels like she has something to prove. 

“Drew,” she begins, twiddling the rose he gifted her just moments prior to this interaction. “Will you take me to dinner?” 

Yep. That brain fart then escalates to a complete meltdown. His circuitry is failing him. There’s probably steam out of his ears from that system overload. 

System overload! 

May’s forehead creases. “. . . Drew? Do I have to do everything around here, or do I have to drag you to the nicest restaurant in this region?” 

“No! No, I, uh . . .” Taking a deep stabilizing breath, he finds that confidence he works so hard to fake the majority of the time. Yeah, you hear him right–fake. He’s not the sauviest of the suave, he has come to accept that. 

Especially if he can’t ask the most beautiful girl in the world out and she has to make the move first! 

He clears his throat, and meets her eyes, careful not to get too lost admiring how much those sapphire eyes resemble the deepest depths of the sea. 

“Yes, I’ll take you to dinner. Only if you let me spoil you rotten.”

Harley grimaces. “Damn, you really are living up to the name, Randy.” 

“Stop calling me that,” Drew counters.

“Over my dead body!” Harley then approaches May. “Don’t I get a thank you, hon?” 

“I’m not sure if I should thank you or slap you, but I’ll let you get away with it this time. Thanks, Harley. Now if you’ll excuse us, this is long overdue.”

“Of course, of course! Have fun ye hooligans! Farewell now!” 

Drew hooks May’s arm around his. “Where to? We’ll take a ride on Flygon.”

“I can go for something exotic and new, so surprise me, Mr Fancy Pants.”

“Anything for you.” Drew casts a dirty look at Harley over his shoulder, as if to say, ‘I’ll deal with you later.’ 

For now, he’s going to enjoy a wonderful date with a wonderful girl. 

[actuallyitsstar]

Maverick + 2, 21, and 22?

✨ send me a number and a character! ✨

2. favorite canon thing about this character?

i think that hands down i have to say that i actually really respect the writers/tc/whoever making the active choice to humanize maverick. in a lot of big Straight Man Macho Action Flex Movies (tm) i feel like this is hardcore frowned upon. but i gotta hand it to tc, because i feel like it's a through line for his films- my poor traumatized meow meow ethan hunt comes to mind- that his action hero characters are like. PEOPLE. with emotions. who behave in a way you can empathize with and unpack.

like even in the original movie, though they are obviously not explicit in discussing it, they do address the way a scare can shake you up, the way there's no shame in it. viper even says as much to maverick when he's thinking of quitting. there's no shame in it. that spin was hell, it would've shook me up. there's no shame in cougar quitting either- he still is a good man, as mav helpfully reminds the others. he disobeys orders to help cougar, (i'd like to get on my 'parallels to jake launching against orders to save mav and bradley' high horse here but its not relevant rn so i'm gonna refrain), and he defends cougar's honor to the others multiple times. of course there's the surprising (for an 80s movie full of cheese and needless romance subplots and sweaty men) amount of emotional intelligence in goose and mav's conversation at the housing, when mav apologizes for showboating and makes the ~promise~ to goose and goose gets to display his immense working knowledge of What Makes Mav Tick. for all of that famous ego we've seen in action, mav is perfectly capable of listening to what goose has to say and understanding his point and conceding without making it about himself. that right there is some surprising emotional intelligence (which never coping with losing goose will promptly destroy but i digress)

and then there's the post goose's death universe- they let it haunt him. as they should, but i feel a lot of films in a similar genre and style wouldn't be willing to dwell on it so. he gets to cry. a lot. he's literally in the jet in top gun '86 with just. tears running down his face. then there's tgm- there's the scene outside the hard deck and there's the scene with ice and there's the funeral and there's the fight with bradley on base and there's but you are here and the hug on the carrier. he gets to be genuinely emotional and heartfelt. he gets to express actual in the moment feelings that are not just anger and are not just with a ~love interest~. HE GETS TO BE HUMAN !!! HE GETS TO BE SOFT !!! THATS SO IMPORTANT TO ME. probably wouldn't be my number one blorbo man if it weren't for that.

21. If you're a fic writer and have written for this character, what's your favorite thing to do when you're writing for this character? What's something you don't like?

aaaaaaa i think my favorite (evil) thing about writing mav is the unreliable narration. it's rly great (read: painful) to sit down and just say the craziest shit that is not true as if it is fact and then know he that he really thinks like that. hes just like 'of course he can't expect the most basic human decency known to man from his closest friends and family because it is unreasonable to imagine someone as horrible as himself could ever deserve it' and he's just talking about like. needing somebody to pick him up from the airport. and you're just like wow. this little guy is fucked up huh

least favorite tho....... it's a two sided coin. it can't be too on the nose and it can't be too over-the-top. mav is great at being/seeming functional, on a surface level. it's only when you get inside of the one bedroom apartment with a bedroom he is not allowed to use bc that's for just in case his long lost son ever comes home or whatever that you realize something is wrong. his pov can't be too down or too depressed. it's mostly objective, with just a direct little splash here and there, just enough so the reader can be like 'okay. yeah. makes sense. alright. still making sense. and....wildest most untrue thing you could possibly say about yourself. alright yeah he needs therapy' <3

22. If you're a fic reader, what's something you like in fics when it comes to this character? Something you don't like?

aaaaaa so many amazing authors in this fandom do so much that i adore i don't even know where to start, but i guess one of my favorite things has to be when he's just very *shrugs* about the flyboys and they've already decided that he's one of them now. it's really great to know we just all agreed somehow that this is a found family group of aviators who barely have any screen time with each other, and that we all just agreed that mav probably doesn't understand the invitation to be as direct as they mean it because he is frankly unused to receiving such direct invitations period. there is nothing like watching an idiot who needs loved get roped into a found family. like !! yeah !!! get loved !! do it !!! it can't be stopped !!

and hmm something i don't like. very much the reverse again, in a way, but i think one of my least favorite things has got to be either over-infantalizing him into like, way too much of the "baby brother" in the group (i am not denying that this is objectively probably his role, just that this does not mean he is going to be acting like he is 5). he knows how to do the basics. he's an adult man who is technically capable of taking care of himself (though whether he feels he deserves the effort is a different story). you have to be hella fucking smart to graduate with the kinds of degrees and experience you need to do what mav does. he's a fully capable adult. he's just also a little dumb about the self care sometimes. they're not mutually exclusive.

[kevin-the-bruyne]

Thank you for answering my question about ZeeNuNew status! Well I agree with what you said, I believe in them, because they confirmed it themselves and especially that their country is not that opened for LGBTQAI+ community.. also I’ve heard that BL fans are not that opened as well.. for me Zee has that queer vibe to be honest.. I’m just worried about all these rumors about Zee.. I think it’s action of homophobic people unfortunately. Seeing how Zee found his comfort zone in Nunew and vice versa.. they’re just perfect!

There’s just so many times and so many ways that Nunew can say ‘Hia is the only one in my life’ like aksjdjfjfjska PLEASE stop doubting him so we can move on with our lives

I have no idea what these rumors are I have blessedly not been on twitter in months hahaha. I’m sure once the Next Prince comes out everything will be fine.

Zee has changed his online persona a couple of times and there was a lot of machismo showboating I think before he got into BL but one would think that as people grow older they know themselves more.

Also given that they’ve been doing this pretty consistently over the years I say they are in fact very happy and comfortable with each other! I don’t have time anymore to watch so much videos about CPs but back when I got into Thai BL I had a lot of time to waste lol and I loved seeing their interactions and the way they grew together

I love them your honor 🤧

[chejuu]

all of that to say please may i have a sip. a little taste. a tiddlywink of this fic on my dash forevar

🙈 i'm honored but also i'm shy, your honor

i have done very little editing so all of this is subject to change but here's a lil snippet so far :)

“Pleasure to meet you,” Dick says, sticking his hand out, willing the sweat on his palms to wick away. “Richard.”

Slade’s eyebrow quirks upwards at the use of Dick’s name. Falcone misconstrues. “You’re familiar with Richard Wayne, I presume?”

“I’m familiar,” Slade says evenly. His too-tight grip feels like a warning.

“Well, don’t just stand there. Come sit, hon.” Falcone leans back and pats his thigh. “Or don’t tell me you’re gettin’ all shy on me now?”

Falcone’s always been one to showboat. Golden chandelier overhead, golden Patek Philippe on his wrist, Bruce Wayne’s golden boy in his lap. It’s what’s made him such an easy mark for this mission. Playing trophy to Falcone in front of Gotham high society is one thing, but in front of Slade — the two steps to Falcone’s armchair suddenly seem an unclosable distance. 

If there’s one thing Dick Grayson can do, though, it’s perform under pressure.

“Shy?” Dick smiles, aiming for playful. He swings a leg over Falcone’s thigh, drapes his arms over his neck, lifts his lips to Falcone’s ear. Half-turned like this, he can still keep watch over Slade from the corner of his eye. “You don’t know me at all.”

“Then it’s a good thing we’re getting nice and acquainted, ain’t it,” Falcone drawls. He brushes a hand past Dick’s waist to finger idly at his belt loops. Slade’s eye tracks the movement for a millisecond before settling somewhere in the general vicinity of the coffee table, as if bored.

But only as if. Call it intuition, call it years of learning how to read the man through his mask, Dick’s got a way of telling how Slade’s feeling just from the set of his broad, broad shoulders. Right now those shoulders look like they’re fighting to keep his arms from rearing up and ripping Dick clean off Falcone’s lap, and maybe ripping Dick’s head off his shoulders while he’s at it.

[blankticket]

Vash doesn't do much besides pull a ton of pitiful faces as he's being chastised. O how hard it was, being such a helpless troublemaker. The Humanoid Typhoon's always making other people responsible for damage control. Yep. He's got jack shit to say for himself. But in that following silence, his mind's still sharp—catches the other's evasive uneasiness, recognizes the inescapable presence of it like an old foe.

"'Kay," he chirps casually. No further questions, your honor. Vash pulls his arm across his chest to stretch it, and yawns, squeezing elbow with lost-tech fingers. And so, the act of obliviousness continues.

What the other's said about the posters… If this Vash were trying to hide away from the bounty, then it wouldn't make sense for him to merely change up only his hair, if his overall look was kept preserved. As much of a showboat as Vash could be, he doubted the other was prideful and foolish enough not to try better than that, given 'years'. No, there was something to this detail, that was for certain. But he was fine with not knowing, if his predecessor was keen on not telling.

If there's a door that he shouldn't be opening, then he'll quit knocking. What was the other Vash going to do about it, anyway? Scold him for being a runaway? Would he suddenly change his mind, and spill what he's clearly trying to protect himself from?

The Stampede rises, pulls his SEEDS coat a little tighter around his shoulders, dusts it off. He wipes his mouth clear of sugar, using the spot where his wrist connects to the base of his palm. Some things are better left alone—and better left off alone. He gets it.

"I'm not coming back. They hassle you, try n'chalk it up to all that being some random lunatic." He chuckles at his own descriptor. "Donut was nice; thanks. Sorry I can't do much else. And—I'm glad that you can have a peaceful life here, Vash.

"You deserve it."

He waves, turns, and starts to walk away.

★ --;; Despite all of Vash's prowess with dodging projectiles, the annoyed look of the other is mirrored back at him as the sprinkle lands right between his eyes, bounces off and lands on the bench between them. "Rude," he pouts. "I know for a fact that you were taught better manners than that." As if he wouldn't have done the exact same thing.

"An' that's exactly what I meant. You owed me for freakin' everyone out in the bakery, too." Information is the least he could give for the potential fallout he'd have to deal with. That place was one of his favourites.

That, and he thinks he finally understands what its like- at least a bit. To be on the other end of that melancholic trance he knows he finds himself in all too often, even now. If he doesn't have anyone there to tell him hey, come back to the present, at least he can be that for this off-kilter version of himself.

Talk about some fucked up form of therapy.

Slowly he relaxes again from where he's found himself leaned over, stares up at the grey sky. It's still spitting a few snowflakes here and there-- soon it'll likely pick back up in earnest. At least it's consistent. "I don't have much of an explanation for myself," he says. "It uh- mostly matches up, same as what you said."

He feels, somehow, that saying much more than that is playing a dangerous game.

[menace-behaviour]

*Season 2, Episode 1*

Buck: I want to kiss you.

Eddie: *not paying attention* What?

Buck: I said if you die, I won't miss you.

[thotsforvillainrights]

What would be an ideal date night for each Shie Hassaikai member?

(Oh this sounds like a fun one! It feels like I’d written this before but it’s nowhere to be found on the blog or my outdated masterlist so I suppose it’s just something I really wanted to write, but never got around to doing. Thank you for requesting it!!!)

~Idea Date Night for the Shie Hassaikai~

headcanon|scenario|imagine|match-up

-Overhaul: This depends on how far along the two of you are in the relationship with each other AND on what kind of person you are. If it’s early on in the relationship then he’s going to do a little bit of showboating and try taking you to some rather expensive restaurants. He’s doing his best to try and impress you so you don’t go running for the hills when you notice how much of an asshole he can be sometimes. If it’s later into the relationship then he relaxes a bit. He’ll still try to take you expensive places but it depends entirely on whether you’re into that or not.

-Pops: At this age he enjoys taking park dates. I imagine he’s content with walking around a pond with you in the summer or fall evening and watching the dragonflies catch on the cattails as the sun begins to set. He loves the smell of the water and how the sky seems to look like a painting of orange and pink swirls. He loves how the temp has dropped and become bearable enough to walk and chat with you. Most of all, he loves just spending outside time with you!

-Chronostasis: Arcade dates are his thing! He likes the arcades that have go-kart next to the building so you can do that together too! He’ll blow every single penny he has on wither trying to beat you at the games or trying to win something for you. “But Hari, it’s just 15 bucks. Why don’t you just buy it instead of trying to win it?” You ask as he’s already spent like 28 dollars on the game. “Because it’s the principle of it all Y/N. There’s no honor in it if I don’t win it for you.” Keep in mind he’s very competitive lol

-Mimic: Bar date if you’re down for it. It may not be the most romantic to some people but it sure beats being in a stuffy suit in some hoity toity restaurant with a bunch of kiss asses. He’s rather taken with the dark lighting and the calming atmosphere of the late hours before the drunks come barging in to get crazy and whatnot. He likes sitting in a corner booth with you, having a drink and eating the bar food while the two of you chatter about your day together. To you, it’s romantic in it’s own weird way.

-Nemoto: Beach dates are something he’s started doing with you. He likes to go above and beyond so when you show up you notice there’s a huge tent with lights and flowers, candles and music...the first time he does it you think he’s proposing to you or something! Turns out he tends to push it when it comes to romance. You like to think that he can make anything romantic no matter what it is. You could go on a date in a back alleyway by a dumpster and he could still manage to turn it into the best night of your life. He’s just got it like that!

-Deidoro: You would think bar date but this man prefers having bonfires in the middle of the woods with you. I suppose you could say it counts as camping maybe? So yeah...camping dates! He likes setting up and getting a roaring fire going so you two could sit around and toast by it, avoiding the crisp/cold night air. The best time to do these dates is in the fall and very early winter he’s decided. Sometimes you two end up pitching a tent and staying the whole night in the woods. Other times you sleep in a sleeping bag and stay up watching the moon and the stars while the portable radio you brought plays softly nearby.

-Rappa: Tries his hardest to be civil for you by taking you out to eat when you first get together. You reassure him that you’re down for other things when you notice the discomfort he has at these places trying to be something he’s not. That’s when the fun Kendo comes out! He likes to take you to many different places. Sometimes out to baseball games or fighting matches, and other times he tries to do gym dates or even demolition derby. You never really know with him. Sometimes he’ll wake you up and try taking you to a random show in town, or other times it’s something as simple as walking in the rain because “I saw it in a movie once” he says. Anyway, there’s never a dull date with Rappa.

-Tengai: Totally the type to take you to a garden maze or a museum. Somewhere calming and peaceful where the two of you can just talk and take in each other’s surroundings and whatnot. Big brain likes to also soak up new information as well so visiting historical sites and learning new things is a must for him as well. Definitely the type to call you for a library date if you’re down for it. 

-Setsuno: He’s actually more the kind of man that wants to stay home with you and have movie nights. Sometimes you call in for pizza delivery and make a big blanket mess on the living room floor so you can cuddle up and watch movies all day. Other times you watch funny videos together and cook a new recipe that you both find on the internet randomly. Sometimes you give two player games a try (he loves trivia games). Other times he’s totally content with playing music and dancing with you as if you were both in your own private club. It’s not as if he won’t take you out sometimes too, it’s just that he prefers indoor dates above others.

-Hojo: Like Mimic, he prefers a good bar date. However, his bar is a different kind of bar. He’s more like a sports bar where there are way too many TV’s lining the wall and the smell of fried cheese bites is everywhere lol. It’s a lot going on, many voices speaking at once and loud music occasionally playing. If this can be too much for you then just let him know and he’ll axe the date in favor of something more your speed. If not, then you two will certainly be having more dates like it. 

-Tabe: Fair or Zoo dates are really fun for him! He likes taking you to the zoo very often since the fair or carnival isn’t around 24/7. It’s not like you’ll be visiting the same zoo every time. Sometimes he travels far out to take you to a different one. He’s also really big on going to the aquarium with you as well. He loves seeing the fish and all of the ambient lighting really seems to relax him when you two go to places like that. 

-Katsukame: Sucks at date planning when you two get together. It can be a bit discouraging having to always be the one to plan the dates. If you have it in you then please try to put your foot down and let him know how you feel about it. Then he might try planning different dates out for the two of you. You might go bowling together or maybe indoor skydiving (but I doubt it based on his massive size). Either way, just be patient with him since he’s still trying to navigate the ins and outs of the relationship!

[norabrice1701]

Swordplay - Ch. 3

A Fencer!Zemo x Fem!Reader AU Series

Series Master List

Chapter Warnings: Explicit language, masturbation

Word Count: 1.3k

Chapter 3: Presentation - Offering one's blade for engagement by the opponent

You tried to reign in your curiosity. You did.

Alright, maybe you didn’t try that hard.

Curled up on your couch with a glass of wine, it hadn’t even taken five minutes of Netflix scrolling before you navigated to the YouTube app and searched 'Baron of Fencing'.

Countless videos filled your screen. Competitions on Sokovian national stages, European stages, the World Fencing Championships, and of course, the Olympics. A few videos even looked hastily shot on a phone camera in a practice room similar to the one you were in today.

You queued up the most viewed video – his first place victory bout at the 2015 World Fencing Championship – and found yourself unable to look away.

Such composed grace. Such unassuming strength. Such lethal precision. He struck like a viper, always sharp and controlled. His economy of motion left you breathless, never wasting a stroke of his blade or movement of his feet. Even his lunge made you squirm in your seat – watching him keep low and push forward with lightning-quick accuracy. As point after point accumulated for H. Zemo of Sokovia, he didn’t let the success go to his head. No showboating, no celebrations of victory. He kept his head down, ready for the next engagement.

Only at the end – when the bout was indisputably his, did he peel off his face mask and you were lost. He didn't look much younger than you’d see him today, but his hair hung shorter and loose over his brow, damp with sweat from the exertion. His eyes burned from the thrill of the fight, alive with adrenaline-fueled focus. The corners of his mouth lifted in a grin of victorious excitement as he saluted his blade to the applauding crowd.

How could one man be so breathlessly stunning?

You exhaled shakily, fumbling for your wine and advancing to the next video.

It didn’t take long for you to get addicted to watching the baron fence.

Helmut Zemo, so-called the Baron of Fencing. And apparently, that title wasn’t just media bestowed, either. The man was actually Sokovian royalty by birth. Somehow, that didn’t surprise you. Fencing certainly struck you as a sport for rich nobility, and from the look of the baron this afternoon, the man certainly projected aristocratic wealth.

You hit play on another video. The gold medal bout at the Rio 2016 Olympic Games. You’d never even known that it was USA vs. Sokovia for the top honors until just now. You didn't even know who won, but you were about to find out.

As you watched, the baron had to be part mind-reader. He made swift agility look effortless, as if he knew when USA’s Tony Stark would advance and retreat even before Tony did. The baron's sabre blade sliced invisibly through the air, matched by the speed of his opponent, and the score gradually started to increase. Stark kept it close, but in the end, it wasn’t enough to outmatch the baron. For the final point, the baron stayed low, his attack carefully coiled and carefully aimed. The crowd went wild for Sokovia’s first fencing gold medalist. Even your heart raced and a smile brightened your face from the excitement of the bout.

The baron removed his face mask and, fuck - he wasn���t even breathing hard. Talk about stamina. Heat bolted down your spine to settle between your legs as you watched him take the podium, running a hand through his wet hair. God, how would his hair feel carding through your fingers? Fine and silky? Thick and lush? Your hand clenched around the stem of your wineglass as your body continued to heat up at the thought.

Fuck, this was not what you needed. You didn’t need a thirsty infatuation for your fencing instructor’s fellow instructor. Thank god you would at least be spared the indignity of having the baron suffer to instruct you.

You exhaled, shifting your legs against the couch, blushing to feel the warm slick that had dampened your underwear. Seriously, were you really that desperate? Were you really considering getting yourself off to images of the baron’s sweat-soaked hair, his sharp eyes, and the precise movements of his body?

You took a gulp of wine, frowning at the next video title. Rio Olympics Fencing Scandal. Of course, you had to watch.

The anchorwoman stared at the camera. “It’s been another exciting day of action here at the Rio 2016 Games, but none so exciting as the exhilarating finish of the Men’s Fencing Gold Medal Bout. Sokovia’s Baron Helmut Zemo narrowly defeated USA’s Tony Stark to claim the nation’s first fencing gold medal, but the victory may be short lived. Our own Joe Walsh inside the arena has more information. Joe?”

The camera cut to the familiar scene from the gold medal bout, the fencing strip empty and dimly lit behind the anchorman. “Thanks, Kelly. Shortly after descending the podium with Sokovia’s first gold medal in fencing, Baron Helmut Zemo retired backstage and met with Tony Stark presumably under the guise of good sportsmanship. However, witnesses outside the locker room say that it didn’t take long for the situation to escalate."

The camera cut away, showing official portraits of both Stark and Zemo as the anchorman continued. "The details are still unfolding, but we do know that blood was drawn from one of the athletes, and both men’s sabres have been confiscated for investigation. The IOC and local authorities are investigating the incident, but already the early word is that Baron Zemo’s gold medal may not be the only thing in jeopardy, but also his ability to participate in future Olympic Games.”

You grabbed your phone, letting the clip play out as you pulled up subsequent news articles. Apparently, the blood had been Tony Stark’s. Apparently, it had been found on the tip of the baron’s blade. Apparently, there were lingering, unsubstantiated accusations that perhaps the baron’s blade was sharper than regulations allowed.

All of it had been more than enough to revoke his gold medal and earn him a lifelong ban from the Olympic Games. But curiously, it wasn't enough for the International Fencing Federation to ban him from the sport.

Fucking hell.

What could Stark have possibly said to the baron to provoke such a reaction? Just what kind of man would actually stab another man after defeating him? The baron only stood to lose everything, and it sounded like he absolutely had.

Why the hell would Bucky and Sam want to go into business with a man like that? Did they lose sleep at night wondering if they were just one outburst - or whatever caused the locker room fracas - away from being stabbed?

The newsclip ended on a portrait of Baron Zemo and it filled your TV screen. Of course the news station used a purposefully dramatic shot - a portrait in black and white, his face the picture of steely determination under lowered brows that lent a dark, dangerous edge. His hair was neatly swept back from his forehead, and he wore a crisp shirt and tie knotted at his throat under a stand-up collar jacket to complete the image.

He looked like such an elegant rogue, and despite your initial revulsion at learning the man had actually caused an international scandal by stabbing another man, there was something about him that you couldn’t deny. He was absolutely, most definitely your type.

And you were absolutely, most definitely in trouble.

Another wave of heat rolled through you, settling with insistent need between your thighs. You set your wine down and let your hand wander between your legs. Your hips rocked against the couch cushions as your fingers curled and rubbed around your slick folds, shamelessly indulging all the images you'd seen tonight. Your moans pitched higher as you played your body towards the blissful precipice. When you met the sharp, dark eyes on the screen, you cried out as orgasmic relief consumed you.

Series Master List

Tag List: @everythingbeginsineternity-blog @mischief-rcs @lilith-blackrose @httpmedxsa @glimmering-darling-dolly @violetmuses @mypoisonedvine @raniiaaa @belle82devart @linkpk88 @scuttle-buttle @somethingthatsaysbubbles @lizette50 @panagiasikelia

[theyoungestmerlyn]

After brunch had been consumed and dishes cleared away, Thea found herself aimlessly wandering around the room, hearing pieces of stories, snatches of scandalous gossip, whispers of unofficial business and off-color jokes. It was all a noise to Thea, who really found all of it rather tedious. Everyone in the room, with the exception of paparazzi, was somebody; all the showboating and backhanded deals were a waste of breath (not to mention time.)

Sometimes she was embarrassed to be part of this world.

Stopping for a moment to grab a mimosa from a passing tray. Looking over the room at large, she wondered, is this what my life will be? Just a soulless businesswoman with no qualms?

The thought made her stomach roll.

She was so engrossed in her observations that she failed to notice the man of the hour coming up behind her. The sound of his voice made her jump slightly.

“My how your flower has bloomed. You're the most beautiful rose in the room and I can't take my eyes off of you."

Oliver. The name popping into her head with the intensity of neon lights at the first syllable of his statement. Memories played themselves out in a moment in her mind, the (ironically) rose-colored memories clearly those of a young girl first noticing the other gender at first, then tinged beneath the lens of first crush, unrequited & unacknowledged as it was.

In the here-and-now, Thea was neither of those girls. Yet still, her heart beat just a little faster in response to his voice.

“The most beautiful rose has the most sharpest of thorns,” Thea mused, turning to look at the man of the hour, “you’d be better off looking elsewhere.”

“What must I do to woo you?"

Startled surprise widened her eyes, “Woo?” genuine giggles tumbled from her lips, “God, that line is ancient.”

Meeting his eyes for just a moment, still the beautiful blue she remembered, Thea said, “You’ve been out of the world for a while, but it hasn’t been that long, Oliver.”

Of course, he was still gorgeous, perhaps even more after years of grueling isolation, and he looked practically model perfect in his brunch outfit. This brunch event was about him getting a chance to reintegrate into his social circle. Why was he talking to her?

That was undoubtably the thought also occurring to the people watching them, most of them behind the camera lens.

“Perhaps, we should dance? If you'll have me?”

Thea debated internally on her answer. Instinctively, she wanted to point him towards another dance partner, knowing better than to be the first chosen to dance with the guest of the honor. It implied that there was something of note between them, making her the envy of every woman in the room. But was it not rude to turn down an invitation from the man of the hour?

“Perhaps,” Thea agreed, “but I’d hate to start a trend that you won’t be able to break.” Leaning forward slightly, dropping her voice to a whisper, “You’ll be expected to dance with every woman here. That’s an awful lot of getting your toes stepped on, Ollie. Do you really want to risk it?”

Brunch Together: Oliver Queen & Thea Merlyn

Thea Merlyn barely resisted rolling her eyes in irritation at the expectant look on her father’s face. He had a habit of declaring things, making pronouncements, and expecting Thea & Tommy to hop into line like toy soldiers. Did it not coccur to him that both of them had wills and lives of their own to live? They weren’t dolls to be placed wherever he wanted them.

Biting back on the ‘no,’ that wanted out of her vocal cords, Thea asked instead, “But, why do I have to go?”

“You were invited.”

Thea cocked her head to the left, raising an elegantly shaped eyebrow, “You and I both know that just because the cardstock said, ‘the Merlyn family,’ only you two are the intended recipients.” A brunch to reintroduce the prodigal son to Queen Consolidates’ wider business network (clearly the first step in a larger plan to bring the man back into the family business.) As Tommy was the brunch honoree’s best friend and Malcolm was valued business associate, they fit the attending bill to a ‘T.’

Thea, on the other hand, was just a seventeen-year-old recent high school graduate; she had no connection to Merlyn Global and Thea’d been only twelve when Oliver disappeared. While she embarrassingly remembered her brother’s brother-from-another-mother quite well, she was absolutely positive that she’d just been background noise to their epic bromance. There, but invisible. When she factored in the probability that his mother’s secretary crafted the invite list, Thea was willing to assume that she wasn’t an intended invitee.

“People will be expecting us to show support for the Queens as a family. You are coming, Thea.”

Thea had to fight on her instinctive stubbornness, if only to avoid getting into another screaming match with Malcolm now. It was far too early in the morning to use her voice like that.

Relenting without uttering another word, Thea returned to her room and opened her closet doors. What the heck did one wear to a ‘welcome back to the world’ brunch? Was it a sort of formal thing? Or more casual like the word ‘brunch’ implied?

Picking up her iPhone from the end of her bed, Thea sent a quick tet to her girl squad with a quick Snap of her closet. After a flurry of message, a choice was made and Thea donned a full-length coat, complementing high-waist black shorts with a pair of shimmering nude-colored tights and a sleek crop top with ankle boots with slight wedge heels.

“Thea,” Tommy’s voice called out from the direction of the foyer, “let’s go.”

“It’s a brunch, Tommy,” Thea reminded him as she climbed down the stairs, “not a medical procedure. We can be a few minutes late; it’s fashionable.”

As it turned out, they’d arrive to the Queen mansion only ten minutes after the printed time and were neither the first nor the last to arrive. Tommy had immediately ventured over to embrace his childhood friend and catch up about the week that had passed since the only child returned home. Malcolm had been pulled into whispered discussions about God only knew what. Thea didn’t really care to know what her father had gotten himself into. She’d learned long ago that it was in her best interest to be ignorant of his schemes.

She milled about among the other brunch guests until the hostess, Moira, asked everyone to take a seat. Finding a seat between Malcolm and Tommy at the table, Thea let the mumble and murmur of the thirty or so people’s conversations at large wash over her, taking it all in, but staying quiet herself. She passed various dishes in various directions as the mountain of breakfast foods were distributed and exchanged simple pleasantries in the process. Just when she was beginning to think that she could get through this awkward brunch by simply embracing her fly-on-the-wall state, someone addressed her.

“So, Thea, I read your opinion piece in the newspaper, I was,” Thea’s attention snapped to Moira, green eyes widening slightly in surprise, “surprised to read such a refreshing opinion from someone of your generation.”

It had been a nerve wrecking choice, deciding to let her opinion be known so publicly, but she’d figured someone had to say it aloud if there was any hope of changing attitudes away from the desire for love and lust. Someone had to encourage women to think with their heads instead of their pussies.

“I know taking a pass on romance, and focusing on other connections, seems strange to some, but I stand by it. The world would be better off, I think, if people put all the romantic notions aside and paid due attention to the other connections in our lives.”

A woman seated a couple seats down from Thea’s snorted derisively, “That sounds like the arguments made by someone not getting any.”

Thea steeled herself and straightened in her seat, “Just thinking with my brain and not my heart. Think of how many tragedies in the world could have been avoided if love wasn’t so highly valued. No scorned lovers driven to murder. No heartbroken suicide. No love triangles gone wrong.”

 “You’ve got quite the head of your shoulders,” Walter Steele chimed in with a nod of agreement.

“Thank you.” A soft blush tinged her cheeks a pink color.

The conversation transitioned once again to another topic and Thea returned to simply listening as the conversation & brunch around her.

@archersquest

[tinyboxxtink]

"Clueless" *Part 15* (Finale)

I'll admit the last bit of this wasn't TOTALLY amazing, BUT I'm stoked to start "Black Magic", and I got the major points that I wanted in this ending. So, I hope you guys like it. 😉

[Black Magic starts tonight.]

Part 14

Gif's UNDER the cut, so there's no spoilers.

@chasingeverybreakingwave

@word-scribbless

@gibbs274

@lolliepopsicle

@wanniiieeee

@milkshqke

@objection-argumentative

@stars-in-the-skies-world

@aprildecker-blog

-----

To your relief, the last two classes were Rafael free. However, that third week was the big court cases final argument finals.

To make it extra stressful, your professor had gotten permission to use a real live courtroom for you all to present your cases. And not only that, filled the gallery with judiciary members, and to your absolute horror that included the SVU squad.

When you walked into the courtroom, you were already panicking with all the spectators. But seeing the panelists standing up front, including Rafael with a smug smile, your palms began to sweat. You and Josh exchanged worried glances, but held hands and stayed strong together. You glanced over to the gallery to see Ariel giving you a thumbs up. What the…?

“What is Ariel doing here?” You whispered to Josh. “I thought only law students were allowed in here,”

“Oh I asked her to be here,” Josh smiled, waving at Ariel.

“Why…?” You gave him a confused look.

“Uh, for you obviously,” He nervously smiled. “I wanted you to have a friendly face in the audience, y’know besides me,”

“That’s really sweet babe,” You nuzzled his neck. “How’d she manage it though?”

“I’m pretty sure she paid off one of the guards,” He chuckled.

“Figures,” You rolled your eyes.

You took your seats with the rest of the class on one side of the gallery, awaiting your turns. It made you sick to your stomach to see just how happy Rafael was, why was he in such a good mood?

“Look at him, he’s such a smug bastard,” Josh whispered.

“I know right?” You scoffed back, glaring right at Rafael. But his smile didn’t dissipate, it only grew bigger. What the hell was happening?

Soon the courtroom was completely full, buzzing with conversation. Until a guard started clapping his hands to get everyone’s attention.

“Attention, the honorable Judge Walker,”

A very old, very mean looking judge came walking from his chambers and settled into his seat. Great, another thing to panic about.

“Attention, Attention, thank you all for coming today. I am very excited to see the fresh young minds of law at work, but first--” He paused and looked down at the panelists.

“Mr. Barba has asked to make an announcement to the court,”

Wait, what? What was happening? You looked at Ariel with panic, Josh squeezed your hand harder as you gave him a very worried look. You looked at Olivia, who looked uncomfortable. She didn’t know what was going on, that couldn’t be good.

“Ahem,” Rafael adjusted his jacket as he got ready to address the court.

“Ladies and gentleman; as the students here are aware, I’ve been sitting in on their classes for the last few weeks so that I could get a better, well rounded assessment of each one of them so I could go into these ‘trials’ with an idea of who I wanted to work with this summer,” He looked around at each and everyone in the court, except for you and Josh. Of course.

“...But, unfortunately, those evaluations are going to have to suffice as a suggestion to my colleagues here. As I am recusing myself from the proceedings today,”

The court began buzzing with even more conversation, you looked at Ariel who had the same stunned and confused look on her face. You glanced at the SVU squad who looked concerned. Seriously, what was happening? You looked at Josh, he was completely lost and-- worried?

“Babe...are you ok?” You whispered.

He looked at you, not being able to speak. Okay did HE have an idea what was going on?

“Order, Order!!!” The judge banged his gavel. Then he addressed Rafael: “Mr. Barba, why exactly are you recusing yourself?”

Rafael took a deep breath as he looked at the floor. After a pause, he looked back up to the court.

“Because, I could not in good conscience cast a vote when I have a conflict of interest,” He answered, the smile crossing across his face once again.

Your heart started pounding, your breath quickened. Everything went fuzzy and it suddenly felt like you were underwater.

“...And what exactly would that be?” The judge raised an eyebrow.

Your palms began to sweat, you wanted so badly to look at Ariel but you literally could not move. You couldn’t tell if Josh was still holding your hand because your whole body was numb.

Everyone in the courtroom watched Rafael with bated breath, nobody spoke, nobody breathed. Rafael finally fixed his sights right on you:

“...Because I am in love with one of the candidates,” He said with the same huge smile he had since you walked in.

Your heart COMPLETELY stopped, along with your breath. You desperately made pleadings with any higher power that you would NOT pass out in this courtroom in front of every person you admire and knew in your entire academic career.

“Oh my God…” You heard Josh mutter. Oh God, Josh. He was probably crushed right now, so humiliated. You couldn’t even look at him, all you could do was stare at Rafael. He was still beaming at you, so proud of himself. It would be extremely annoying if he hadn’t just announced to an entire room full of his colleagues that he was IN LOVE WITH YOU.

You felt yourself begin to breathe, your heartbeat began to beat, but now it was pounding out of your chest. Wait, he didn’t actually say your name. Yet…?

“Order, Order!” The judge banged his gavel once again, and you finally noticed during your little black out the entire room had erupted into even more chatter.

“Mr. Barba, you really could have just told your colleagues here your reason, there’s no need for this showboating,” He told Rafael in a very annoyed tone.

“Yes your honor, I understand,” He nodded. “But I wanted Miss Y/N to know that I am NOT ashamed of her,” Rafael looked at you once again, his smile still plastered on his face.

You couldn’t help but smile back, you were absolutely floored. Any thoughts of how Josh, Ariel, or even Olivia were reacting were out of your mind. Any panic that you wouldn’t be able to present your case now was a million miles away, all you could see was Rafael, the man who was in love with you.

“...Great. Well, I’m glad you and Miss Y/N are happy, but if you don’t mind I’d like to continue our proceedings,” He tried to speak over the crowd. “Alright maybe we need a brief recess,” He sighed, looking at Rafael exasperated. “Barba, really?”

“I’m sorry Mike, It’s a whole thing,” Rafael gave him an apologetic smile.

“Mike” The Judge, banged his gavel once again. “A 15 minute recess and then we’ll begin,”

Rafael took this moment to immediately run to you, you met him halfway. You wanted so desperately to just kiss him right there, but you were still technically in class. Even you knew you needed to stay professional right now.

“I...You...You…” You couldn’t stop smiling.

“I know,” He took your hands. “I am so sorry I left you the other night, but I knew after everything I put you through-- I needed to go big,” He gestured to the courtroom.

“I...Y-You…” Your head was reeling, thinking back to the last night you saw him. You thought for sure that it was absolutely over, and this whole time he had this huge display of an act of true love planned out.

“I love you, Y/N,” He stroked your face. “I love you and I want everyone to know it,” He stared at your lips, you knew you were both thinking the exact same thing.

“Screw it…” You grabbed his hand and pulled Rafael outside into the lobby of the courthouse. Before he could register what was happening, you grabbed him in a deep, passionate kiss. He kissed you back deeply, even more passionate than he had in his office.

“And that was…?” He gave you a weird smile.

“Well, you already announced ‘us’, I didn’t think they needed a free show on top of it,” You bit your lip with a smile.

“It probably wouldn’t have thrilled Josh,” He nodded towards the courtroom.

Crap. Josh. Your face fell, you stared back into the courtroom. As if summoned by the mention of his name, Josh came walking out of the courtroom, quickly trailed by Ariel.

“Oh God…” You muttered. Rafael took your hand gently, letting you know he was there for you. You gave him a small smile as Josh and Ariel approached you.

“Josh…” You started to talk, but Josh put a hand up.

“Wait, Y/N. Before you say anything, I need to say something,” He looked back at Ariel, who walked up next to him. You looked at Rafael with a quizzical look, he returned the look.

“The truth is, Ariel and I--” He looked at Ariel, who looked guilty. “We’ve been...spending time together,”

“What?!” You looked between the two of them, shocked.

“Nothing ever happened,” Josh put up his hands. “It was just as friends,”

“Technically,” Ariel added with a smile.

“Wow,” You muttered.

“Well that’s great news,” Rafael chimed in. “I’m very happy for you, Ariel. Josh seems like a great guy,”

“....Really?” You, Ariel AND Josh asked at the same time, in scary unison.

“Really,” He nodded. “Why do you think I hated him so much?” He looked at Josh. “In fact, I recommended you for the internship,”

“Really?” Josh’s eyes brightened. “I never thought--”

“You were a formidable opponent, sir,” Rafael held out a hand.

“Yeah well,” Josh took his hand and shook it. “I suppose you can’t really stop true love,” He nodded at you.

“Gag,” Ariel made a gagging sound, making Josh hit her. “Quiet you, or I’m going to tell you I love you,”

“Oh please don’t,” She hit him playfully. “I’ll throw up on you,”

“Oh I’ll--” He grabbed her and kissed her.

“....And I don’t think we need to be here for this,” You pulled Rafael away. You both looked at each other in absolute confusement, then both busted out laughing.

“I...I can’t even…” You gestured to your best friend and now ex boyfriend kissing in front of you and your...new boyfriend?

All of a sudden, Olivia came storming out of the courtroom.

“Here we go…” Rafael muttered softly. You began to get worried; this was the real test.

“Rafael...what do you think you’re doing?!” She cried angrily.

“Ah, Olivia,” Rafael ignored her tone. “Have you met my girlfriend, Y/N?”

He said it. He called you his girlfriend. In public. To OLIVIA BENSON.

“You…” She glanced between the two of you, you gave her a triumphant smile. “This will ruin your career,” She addressed Rafael.

“I’ll take that risk,” He took your hand, you laid your head on his shoulder. You were a united front.

“....Whatever,” She brushed both of you off and stomped back into the courtroom.

“I can’t-- You just--” You looked to where Olivia had stormed off, back to him with the smile that you decided was a permanent attribute of your face now.

“I did,” He nodded, reading your mind.

“Court will resume in one minute!” A guard came out and announced. Josh and Ariel nodded to you and Rafael as they walked back inside hand in hand.

“So…” You turned to Rafael with your excited grin. “You gonna stick around?”

“Are you kidding?” He put a thumb on your chin. “I wanna see you in action,”

“Oh God,” You bit your lip. “As if I wasn’t nervous enough,”

“Baby I’ll be right there, cheering you on,” He kissed your forehead. “Forever,”

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

In the end, Josh got the internship, like everyone knew he would. But you got something even better, you got the love of your life, and Ariel got herself an ACTUAL Josh.

At the end of the day, it turned out you weren’t totally clueless.

(again let's pretend the Raul kiss is the reader. )

[imaginesandinserts]

Irreverent Pt. 4 - Interview

Title: Irreverent Pt. 4 - Roundtable Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Reader Rating: T (Teen) Words: 3772

Irreverent Series Masterlist

You got up in the morning with a pit of dread blooming in your stomach. The night before had been a lot of tossing and turning with minimal sleep. Today was it, make or break.

Getting ready and out the door was a breeze, as you'd planned this morning to the very last detail, leaving absolutely nothing to chance. As you exited the hotel and caught a cab to Quantico, you ran through the game plan over and over in your head. There was no longer any time to second guess the approach. You had done your research and you had thought this through. At the end of it, your goal was to make an impression. You quickly stifled the small voice in your head that warned you that it was a risky approach and could blow up in your face. It had to work. It just had to.

Entering the building and getting your visitors credential was easy - you were expected. As you walked towards the elevators, you saw the doors opening and your classmates Charlotte and Elliot walked out together. You were unsurprised to see Charlotte there - she was accomplished and well spoken with a good head on her shoulders. You were surprised to see Elliot who was known to be a bit of a showboat but you liked him just the same. You smiled at them both as you quickly grabbed the doors before they closed on you.

As you exited the elevator, you caught sight of Erin Strauss walking towards you. You had met Strauss before when she had come to speak to your class about her team and the BAU's success. After her speech, you'd gone up and introduced yourself and spoken with her briefly. Later that week, you'd gotten a call from her assistant, asking you to attend a Women in the FBI Mentorship event where she spoke at length of the value of female mentorship. You had since attended a couple of those events and she had made small talk with you at each one. You had your suspicions regarding her interest in you, but seeing as she was the Section Chief of the BAU, you made sure to always show her the utmost respect and admiration.

"Y/N! It's so good to see you" Strauss said as you approached one another. "I am so glad Aaron chose to interview you."

"Chief Strauss, thank you so much. I'm sure that you had at least something to do with that," you responded, knowing she'd react well to that kind of adulation.

"Oh please, I just nudged along the best of the best. But you should know, every single member of that team chose to interview you. And you're the only one who got every single vote."

Taken aback, you quickly smiled and thanked her once again as she pointed you in the direction of the conference room. They'd all chosen to interview you. That definitely shifted some of the power in your favor. You quickly suppressed a satisfied smile and knocked on the door where the entire team was waiting for the final candidate.

"Come in." You heard a deep voice from behind the door, prompting you to turn the knob and say a final prayer hoping you wouldn't stumble over your words.

Seven pairs of eyes looked at you as you entered, watching your every move.

"Good morning," you smiled and looked around, making eye contact with everyone there. "Thank you for inviting me to interview with your team. It is an honor."

"Please have a seat Ms. L/N," The dark haired man - whom you recognized as SSA Aaron Hotchner - pointed you to a chair at one end of the large table. "Before we begin, I am SSA Hotchner, these are SAs Morgan, Prentiss, and Dr. Reid," he pointed to each one, prompting you to recall their faces from the extensive research you had done on this team. You smiled at them each in turn, which they returned, Agent Morgan adding in a little wave to his greeting.

"To my right is SSA David Rossi," Agent Rossi looked just like the pictures on his book jacket covers. "And finally this is our media liaison, Agent Jennifer Jareau and Technical Analyst Penelope Garcia."

"It's lovely to meet all of you," you said as you settled in, trying to keep your heart from beating out of its chest. Agent Hotchner was more intimidating in person. His deep gravelly voice in the introductions matched what you had learned of him - he was astute, intelligent, and unlikely to tolerate any antics. His large frame filled the chair he was seated in, his legs crossed one over the other. You swallowed and tried to maintain your composure and stay the course.

Agent Hotchner continued, "As you might know, the BAU has not conducted panel interviews in the past. However, we are trying to grow and adapt ourselves to suit the needs of the team's best interests and so we want to ensure that anyone who is selected meets the entire team prior to a final decision." You nodded along. Panel interviews were becoming the norm a lot of places and while government is usually last to adapt, you were glad to see that the team culture seemed to be welcoming and open to flexibility. Agent Hotchner continued to explain the process, "So, due to that, the team has collectively come to the decision that the best way to assess a profiler is to have them actually do a profile. We profile UnSubs every day but doing it well is rooted in a base of self awareness." He paused and looked to see if you understood. You had an idea of where this was headed, but he confirmed it next, "So, Ms. L/N, profile yourself for us please."

You saw a smirk on Agent Prentiss's face that arguably had been there the second you entered the room. You looked around as they all waited for you to speak. You had to think fast.

"I ran into Chief Strauss on my way to the interview today," you began. It wasn't what they'd expected and you knew you immediately had everyone's attention. "She let slip that the team had voted on whom to interview. She also mentioned that I was the only person you'd all chosen."

You looked across the table and saw Dr. Reid staring at you with curiosity and ascertained that both of your predecessors had chosen the more straightforward manner of answering this question.

Both Agents Hotchner and Rossi looked at you with nothing betraying their thoughts, while the rest of the team either mirrored Dr. Reid's curiosity or looked just a little thrown off.

You recalled all of your research and meticulous notes on every single person in that room, and continued on. "Agent Garcia," you addressed the spunky looking Technical Analyst and smiled. "In my application and background check, you noted that growing up I moved every couple of years and I attended a new school each time. You saw someone who never had a home. For you this team is your family and your home. You all trust and respect one another and you felt like I'd most benefit from having this team - this family - in my life." you paused as Penelope gazed at you in some small amount of wonder. "You're probably right about that."

"H-How," she began, but stopped when Agent Rossi slightly lifted his hand, indicating you to continue.

You swallowed and took another deep breath, one down, six to go. "Dr. Reid," you turned and made eye contact with the youngest member of the team who was now studying you much more carefully, "My final year of college I worked under Professor Ludwig and published a paper in the Journal of Criminal Psychology. He forwarded my initial draft to you and asked your opinion on it and you responded with insight that helped shape the final experiment design greatly. Thank you." You saw a flicker of recognition on Dr. Reid's face as he realized that the anonymous paper he'd edited had been yours. "When you looked at my application, you saw my degrees, my certificates, and my Mensa membership and recognized a kindred spirit. You'd also like to no longer be the youngest on the team and it helps that I'm on the younger end of people who are usually considered to join the BAU. Actually, I'm pretty sure you also selected Elliot and Charlotte for the exact same reason." You allowed yourself to let out a small breath of a laugh, before bestowing your best smile on the Doctor. His slightly reddened cheeks bolstered you to continue on.

As you switched your gaze from Dr. Reid to focus on Agent Morgan, your eyes swept past Agent Rossi who seemed - if you weren't mistaken - amused. His poker face now had the hint of a smirk. You didn't dare look at Agent Hotchner for fear that one look at his stern face would cause you to stutter and lose steam.

"Agent Morgan, you could care less about academic accomplishments, despite being relatively accomplished yourself." The large man gave you a warm smile, telling you that you were right on the mark. "For you it is all about who has your back out in the field. I'm at the top in the academy for all field evaluations. You also stalked my online profiles with Agent Garcia - who is your best friend -  and saw that I'm a Bears fan. That's what sealed the deal for you." He let out a laugh at that - a real one - and exchanged a look with Agent Garcia that was loaded with we are going to talk about THIS later.

Halfway through. Almost there. You had to remind yourself to keep going down the path you'd chosen. There was no way Charlotte Richards had turned the tables on the BAU team. Maybe she's smarter than you though. Yeah - definitely smarter than you if the pindrop silence in the aftermath of Agent Morgan's laugh was anything to go off of.

"Agent Jareau, " you turned your attention to the pretty media liaison and smiled kindly, which she returned. You would feel bad about this one, unsure of how she saw her place in the team, but you were determined to see this through to the end now. " Forgive me, but, you hesitated in giving your opinion. It is clear that you read through every application at least twice, combing them for the details." You took a breath, and met Agent Jareau's startled gaze. "You tried to find the humanity behind everyone's carefully curated headshot. What caught your eye was that I was turned down by the CIA prior to applying to the FBI." You felt bad about the assessment you were delivering and the uncomfortably tense silence in the room did nothing to put you at ease. To soften the blow, you continued onwards.  "It didn't matter as much to everyone else but it mattered to you because you know how it feels to be made to feel as though you aren't good enough. You believe in second chances and you value fairness. You thought it was only fair to give me a shot."

You swallowed again and looked for a sign that Agent Jareau now hated your guts for exposing vulnerabilities in front of her coworkers. Sure she works with profilers, but who enjoys having their insecurities laid bare that way? Agent Jareau surprised you however. She smiled and her kind eyes told you that it was alright. You were doing what you had to. "Call me JJ" she told you, before gesturing at you to keep going.

As you turned to Agent Prentiss, you saw her smirk turn into what could only be categorized as a stare down. She was daring you to guess why she picked you. She was hoping you would be wrong. You knew Emily Prentiss by reputation, and so squaring your shoulders once more, you continued. "We've led similar lives, Agent Prentiss,  - moving around at the whims of our parents career. You take a great amount of pride in having accomplished all that you have without your mother's influence. You don't see us as being the same though." You paused and gauged her reaction, but she had schooled her face to betray nothing.  "You think I've leaned on my father's role and title. Ultimately, you're competitive. You want to feel like you're one of the few who made it out of the diplobrat lifestyle all on your own. You picked me not because you actually care to have me on the team but because you wanted to pick me apart in person and prove to yourself that you're still the only one who did it all by herself. " You had shot out the last bit, knowing it would hit the mark in knocking her down just a peg. You were about to make enemies before you were even hired - of that you were certain.

"Hotch, this is ridiculous," Agent Prentiss exclaimed. "She's not answering the question."

"Oh come on Prentiss," Agent Morgan piped in, before either Agents Rossi or Hotch could say something. "You're just pissed because she got you exactly." God, it was good to have him in your corner.

"Emily," Dr. Reid's soft voice was in stark contrast to Agent Morgan's boisterous one. His hand settled on her shoulder and she allowed him to calm her down.

Agent Hotchner was conspicuously silent. His right arm framed his face as he contemplated you. His face still betrayed nothing, but finally meeting his gaze made the pit of dread in your stomach loosen just a bit. Why - you couldn't possibly explain it.

After Agent Prentiss's interruption, you turned to look Agent Rossi dead in the eye. He would be perhaps the easiest. You had no qualms about him or his reaction. You smirked and said, "You thought I was attractive." He gave you a surprised look. Bet he didn't think you'd call him out on that. "You're not embarrassed that I called you out on that in front of the entire team. You value loyalty and you know my father. And you're about to prove Agent Prentiss's belief that I have things handed to me because of my father's influence. I hope you won't do me any more favors because of my last name." You'd known Rossi knew your father. They were acquaintances that ran in the same larger circles and there was some respect that is bought between old men in cigar cubs that you'd never be able to comprehend.

"You're right, you are attractive and I do feel an obligation to give an old friend's kid a leg up." He told you, fixing you with a look that put you slightly on edge in anticipation of what was to come. "But, I think after this performance so far, I don't exactly regret sticking to my loyalties." You didn't know how to react to that, but his encouragin smile at the end helped you in getting your wits about you for the grand finale.

You slowly turned to face Agent Hotchner who had shifted slightly and now was turned more closely towards you. There was something in his dark brown eyes that radiated understanding. Perhaps a callback to his prosecutor days where he recognized the technique of knowing more and talking more to throw your opponent off balance.

Your voice was clear going into the home stretch. "Chief Strauss gave you my resume herself and asked you to consider it. You don't like her interference in how you run your team." Agent Rossi smirked beside him as you said that, and yet Agent Hotchner's face didn't change at all. "While I've been explaining why everyone else chose me, you've been waiting till I got to you so you can prove me wrong. The problem is, you don't know yourself why you chose me."

"Are you sure?" It was the first words he'd spoken since he'd initially explained the process. He was checking to see if you were bluffing. You looked him right in the face, eyes blazing, "Yes."

But you weren't done. Not yet. "So,” you barreled onwards, “instead of speculating at what I think is your reason for choosing me, let me give you the best reason for why I should be the final pick." You paused for a beat. "I can do this job better than anyone else you've interviewed, and I can prove it. "

He finally uncrossed his legs and leaning in, asked painfully softly, "How?" His voice caused goosebumps to erupt down your arms. Thank goodness you wore long sleeves.

This was it. You were either getting this job or you were about to be arrested and you had no idea which outcome was more likely.

You fixed your gaze to Dr. Reid once again. "Dr. Reid, I've heard some impressive things about your memory. In the past three years the BAU either did a remote consult or went in person to solve three cases - Charles Abbott in Milwaukee, Gabriel Smith in Dallas, and Elliot Roberts in Portland. Would you mind sharing what those three cases have in common?"  Dr. Reid shifted in his seat his long arms in front of his body, his hands cradling his head as he thought through your query.

From the corner of your eye you could feel Agent Prentiss's disdain radiating but she was curious. You knew she was intrigued and wanted to know where this was going. After a silence that seemed to stretch hours but was in reality maybe only a minute at most, Dr. Reid spoke, "In terms of crime, victimology, and MO they're all entirely different. The only thing those three cases have in common is that they were solved ultimately due to anonymous tips. The anonymous tipster ended up alluding to or adding a piece to the profile distributed to the public - something that was missed in the initial release. "

At this, you felt the entire room go stiff. They're all profilers and at least some of them have an idea of where this is headed now. They worked those cases and consults.

You smiled and nodded, "Yes, exactly. Now, those cases were spread out and have nothing in common with one another. But Agent Garcia, if you were to pull up the exact phone number associated with the anonymous tip for each case, you'll find that they were all solved by the same tipster, who called from a burner phone associated with the phone number 565-905-9589. "

There was a brief pause where Agent Garcia looked around the room to gauge if that was what she should do before she pulled out her tablet.

Agent Rossi spoke again, asking "What does that prove exactly besides the fact that you tied the same number across three different cases. Anyone with access to the FBI database could have conceivably done that."

"While that is correct, sir" Agent Garcia started furiously typing away at her touchscreen keyboard, "trainees typically lack that kind of access."

"Well we all know it isn't that hard to get access to what you shouldn't." This came from Agent Prentiss whose earlier smirk had morphed into a scowl during your rundown of her selection process, but was now simply intrigued. That looked like progress in some capacity at least.

Here goes nothing. "You're right. That is true." you addressed Agent Rossi's statement, before leaning down to reach your bag that had been lying on the floor since you sat down. You felt around inside until you found what you were looking for. "Which is why I'm sure you'll want to run forensics on the tip recording as well as inspect the phone which all of the calls came from," you stated, deftly setting down a disposable cell phone in front of Agent Hotchner.

He looked at the phone and then looked at you. You'd finally drawn a real reaction from him. He looked stunned. He wasn't alone. On the projector, Agent Garcia had pulled up the phone number tied to all three cases and you could see Dr. Reid verifying that it was indeed the number you'd recited earlier. JJ looked - dare you say - impressed. While Agents Morgan and Prentiss exchanged looks that you couldn't quite decipher the nuance behind.

"I understand that might take some time." you continued, as you gathered your bag from the floor and moved to stand up. Every single person in the room stared at you as if you'd grown three heads. "Once you've verified everything that I've just said, Agent Hotchner, I will be expecting your call. Have a nice day and thank you all for your time. " And she stuck the landing. You quickly turned and opened the door and walked out, suppressing  your Cheshire cat grin all the way to the elevator. ___________________________

In your wake, the BAU team looked at one another unsure of how to proceed. Hotch recovered first, "Reid, what the tipster said, was it all publicly available information that we missed?"

"It was, which is why no one chose to investigate any of them more, I'd wager."  Reid explained, still slightly in shock at the turn of events. "We just assumed we'd missed something in the profile, but there was no indication that it was someone who knew the UnSub or had any insider knowledge."

"Alright," Hotch sighed. That had not at all gone the way he had expected. Who just walks out of an interview like that after dropping a bomb. None of them had even thought to ask you to wait. They'd simply allowed you your dramatic exit as they stared at the phone. This was going to be a nightmare to deal with if it turned out you were anything other than what you'd claimed to be.

"Garcia," he turned and looked at the Technical Analyst who was brandishing her tablet the same way he held a gun.

"Yes, sir?"

"Do we have audio stored of any of the tips?"

"Allow me to check, one moment. Yes, we do. The Dallas case recorded and uploaded everything afterwards. Gotta love a data obsessed police department."

"Can you please play the recording?"

"Of course"

They all waited as Penelope brought the audio to the forefront and as she hit play, the tension in the room was at capacity. A crackle later, the audio began, your voice came through clear as can be. Agent Hotchner had a phone call to make.

[an-organized-confusion]

Tiny spoilers for recent GymRat!Dukexiety fic, “The Wheels Keep Spinning Around“.

The Twins and Virgil spar the most often of the lot.

When Virgil and Remus are “duking it out“ it’s mostly just to have fun, they don’t bother keeping score. Just try to avoid SERIOUSLY hurting each other in the process. They still aren’t totally above low blows and dirty fighting. (This isn’t the iZ!AU, after all.)

When Virgil and Roman spar - also mostly for fun and to destress mutually. But these two are more practiced about it. Being a little more rules-y/structured and form-conscious about how things are supposed to go. Roman has too much of a sense of honor, man.

When the TWINS are fighting each other? It’s certainly about the competition. Who will win this time? Who’s going to hella showboat? Place your bets! Often times it can take someone else stepping in when things get gnarly. Remus definitely fights even dirtier, here. (But in all honesty, neither of them want to seriously harm each other either.)

Patton may RARELY choose to sub for someone. A bit rusty to tussle. (Though he did have some combat training in the belt as a combat medic. I think he’s too worried about accidentally hurting the other kiddos here and CONSTANTLY pulls the punches in this context.)

Logan is a bit of a wildcard. He probably likes/appreciates programs like Combat HIIT (was my personal favorite program ever.) But he was mostly in it for the conditioning part, thus mostly practiced solo... not actually using the skills practically/artfully in the ring. (Does have an appreciation for it as audience, though.)

Janus is a firm “nah“. (He knows his damn limits. Won’t stop him from whipping out the popcorn to watch these dorks trade blows with each other, though. He’ll even root against Roman if it’s going to be more entertaining that way. With love.)

[tcm]

No Professional Background, No Problem By Constance Cherise

If you need a little extra inspiration in pursuing your own interests, creatively or otherwise—even if you don’t have the degrees or accolades that the powers that be say are a necessity—consider these behind-the-scenes individuals with no formal training, who left an indelible impact on Hollywood.

Walter Plunkett

Learning that the costume designer for SINGIN’ IN THE RAIN (‘52) had no formal training in his craft left me stunned. In the film, designer Walter Plunkett’s style runs the gamut, from 1920s fringed glamour to ornate 18th-century fashion. Throughout his career, the Oscar-winning Plunkett worked on more than 200 iconic films, including SHOWBOAT (‘51), LITTLE WOMEN (‘49) and the racially contentious epic GONE WITH THE WIND (‘40).

Plunkett originally studied to become a lawyer, however, his true interest favored the theatre. He graduated from UC Berkeley with the ambition of becoming an actor and after a short period in New York, he moved back to California. Eventually, Plunkett would work as an extra in Hollywood during the silent era. One day, a woman from the casting department at 20th Century-Fox, familiar with Plunkett's talent for sketching, requested he report to the women's wardrobe department. Twelve topless extras entered the room and Plunkett was assigned to strategically paint roses over their bare breasts.

"For three days, I diligently kept those flowers fresh...and that taught me there were other things to do in Hollywood...that you didn't have to be an actor," Plunkett later stated in an interview. He accepted a job as a designer with the Film Booking Offices of America (FBO), a small silent-era production company, and over the course of a few years he honed his craft, learning costume design on silent stars of the time. With the sound era, Plunkett became employed by RKO and went on to design for the likes of Ginger Rogers and Katharine Hepburn, before ultimately getting employment with the major studios of Hollywood.

Dorothy “Dottie” Ponedel

Due to a respiratory ailment in her early 20s, Dottie Ponedel moved from Illinois to California. While working in her family's bakery, she was recruited to become an extra in silent films, fearlessly taking on each role she was offered before becoming the go-to girl. Due to actress Nancy Caroll’s make-up application during the filming of the movie FOLLOW THRU (‘30), the production crew had difficulty completing a particular shot. Ponedel, who had a keen eye, made suggestions, correcting Carrolls make-up which allowed for continued filming. Impressed, Carroll requested Ponedel exclusively as a make-up consultant. When executives refused, Carroll purposely sabotaged her own make-up, essentially forcing the studio to honor her demand. Lacking the background and experience of her male counterparts, Ponedel studied the works of master artists as her education.

Known for sculpting the face with highlight and shadow, Ponedel became the first female make-up artist to be admitted to the Hollywood Make-Up Union. However, not only was she the make-up artist of icons, she also became their confidants. Ponedel worked with stars like Joan Blondell and Judy Garland in such films as MEET ME IN ST LOUIS (‘44), THE HARVEY GIRLS (‘46), and SUMMER STOCK (‘50). Female leads, Marlene Dietrich, Mae West and Carol Lombard rallied for Ponedel as she faced continued backlash from the all-male union.

Busby Berkeley

Known as one of the greatest choreographers of the movie musical, by definition Busby Berkeley was not a choreographer. In fact, Berkeley did not have a background in dance to speak of. However, he did possess a unique knack for patterns influenced by his duration in the army. He directed parades and staged camp shows for the soldiers. After WWI, Berkeley became a successful director on Broadway, collaborating with impresario Florenz Ziegfeld Jr. As expected, Hollywood came calling, and Berkeley began working with Warner Bros. According to Warner Archive “...in 1933 BB redefined Hollywood musicals forever with his eye-popping numbers for 42ND STREET (‘33),” which remains in present times a “...but you have to come back a star!” sensation.

To refer to Berkeley’s flamboyant productions as elaborate would be a harsh understatement. A more accurate description might be scantily-clad, fantasy-filled extravaganzas. While he did not invent the overhead shot, he did perfect it, at times cutting holes in the roof of the studio in order to achieve his desired kaleidoscopic effects. Berkeley would go on to create films for major studios including MGM, where he directed the Garland and Rooney “Backyard Musicals” as well as Esther Williams’ lavish water ballets in such films as TAKE ME OUT TO THE BALL GAME (’49).

During the late ‘50s, Berkeley would see a decline in his career. However, in the late 1960s, his films would see a resurgence, due to the psychedelic era. Berkeley’s influence can still be readily found today (such as BEAUTY AND THE BEAST’s [2017] “Be Our Guest” sequence), and in recent years, the “Human Waterfall” from the film FOOTLIGHT PARADE (‘33), was the opening feature to the collaboration between TCM and Disney's The Great Movie Ride, which was originally narrated by TCM’s own Robert Osborne.