#like hes smug about causing such chaos in alex’s life

[lcvejcys]

the girlypop urge to private god only knows because my perceptions of alex and nigel as characters has shifted soso much since i started writing. therefore, everytime i sit down to draft or write, im writing them as something i see as ooc because i cant justify the sudden character change because of the context of the fic

its very AAAAAAAA.

[kaitycole]

“Cicero!”

Summary: You thought you and your sister just had one thing in common. What happens when you learn you have a second thing in common: your husband, Oikawa Tooru?

Pairing: Oikawa x Reader

Word Count: 2012

Warnings: Angst. Mentions of murder, cheating, black outs, and blood.

If Alex had to pick one word that described you, it would be smug. From the way you walked into the room, how you pulled out the chair, even the expression on your lips, were all smug. She knew right away that this interview would be a lot different than the others, something about you just radiated that energy, that almost dramatic flair an actress has when walking down a red-carpet Alex would’ve chuckled aloud if she knew it wouldn’t have inflated your ego that much more.

You look at Alex on the other side of the glass and smirk to yourself even though you know she can see you. You are the one who got everyone else to agree to this series of interviews, truth be told, you just wanted another chance to be interviewed. Prison wasn’t glitz and glam, no one cared about who you used to be outside the plain, cracked concrete walls, but those on the outside were so invested in what each inmate did, you decided to give them a show.

“Alex Hunt. How’d you end up landing this job?” You pull the sucker out of your mouth, making a pop sound, “I figured it’d be someone more…experienced.” If she’s taken aback, you can’t tell which intrigues you but also pisses you off in a way. “I don’t have to interview you, I can just exclude yours from the piece.”

You raise your eyebrows, slightly surprised at her sharp tongue, but knowing you were going to have fun talking with her, “I don’t recall that being what I said.”

“Then shall we start? Or do you have more banter you’d like to get out?” Alex picks up her pen, flipping over the already written on pages to a clear page.

“Yellow legal pad, how very original.” “Are you finished yet? Or are you going to comment on how I’m not wearing a hat or going by the nickname, Ace?”

You laugh, a sincere laugh, something you hadn’t done in years. This would definitely be fun. “Should I start by stating my name for the record?” “Sure, we can start with something easy.”

“L/N F/N. But I prefer just going by Y/N.” You scoot the chair back, propping your feet up on the small counter space you have on your side of the glass.

Alex just mutters under her breath, though nothing that you are able to hear. She scribbles something on her notepad before looking up. “ Your case is the only one that involves a double homicide. Says here it was your husband and…”

You finish the statement for her, “my sister.” A cold chill runs down Alex’s spine, up until now they had just been crimes committed against lovers, but not with you. She takes a moment to catch her breath, to gather her thoughts, never in a million years could Alex imagine killing one of her siblings. Though she also couldn’t be sure if she found them with her significant other, the thought wouldn’t cross her mind.

“Tell me about your sister. What was she like?”

You let out a breath though your nose, trying to figure out what exactly to say. What was she like? Did you even remember? Whenever you tried to think about her, all you could recall was her and your lover, in the throes of passion.

“The opposite of me, that’s for sure.”

“How so?” You bite down on the little bit of the sucker that’s left, the broken pieces fall off the stick which you just hold between the corner of your lips. “If I was dark then she was light. I wanted to be a part of everything, be in the middle of the chaos so to speak. But Sis, she just wanted to stay in, to be away from everything.” “What about your husband?” She slides a few folders around before picking up the one with your name on it, “Oikawa Tooru. How did you meet him?”

“I thought you’d never ask.” The smug expression Alex saw you wear when you first walked in was gone replaced by one that she swore was more devilish and mischievous than she’d seen before.

*                      * “Someone wants to meet you.” Your sister looked at you with a small smirk.

It was late, your show had run late and you just wanted to go back to the hotel and sleep. It was unlike you, your sister would make that same remark, but international travel was wearing you down.

“I really just want to go to bed.” “I really think you should go meet him.”

You rolled your eyes, how many times could you fake a smile through fans telling you how sexy it was that you were -that- flexible before following it up with some poor and downright lame attempt at trying to sleep with you? But your sister was never this persistent which made you feel you should.

“Okay, okay, where is he?”

“Right out there,” she pushed you through the door of your dressing room but before you could yell at her, you felt yourself bump into someone. When you looked up, a pair of wide brown eyes take in your (e/c) eyes before he apologized.

“Oh. I’m sorry. I didn’t realize I was so close to the door.”

You wanted to tell him that he wasn’t. that your sister pushed you, that you lost your footing, but none of those seemed to come out of your mouth as you took in the tall brunette’s features. You swallowed hard, inhaling though your nose before introducing yourself.

“I know, I’ve been to a few of your shows.” You watched as his cheeks reddened. “I’m Oikawa Tooru.” “Sorry, but I don’t recognize your name.” You smirked and could’ve swore you saw his knees buckle.

He ran his fingers through the poof of brunette hair. “I take that as a good thing, though I can’t say I’m surprised.”

His words were innocent, but the tone in his voice made them cocky and you knew in that moment you were hooked on this Oikawa Tooru.

“As much as I’m enjoying this banter, you can just skip the part where you tell me how hot it is that I can put my legs behind my head and I’ll just skip to the part where I turn down your poor attempt to sleep with me.”

“Ah. I should’ve guessed this happened a bit.” He leaned forward, causing you to back into the wall behind you. His hand on the right side of your face, pressed flat against the wall as his nose brushed yours. “Well I hate to disappoint you, but I’ve seen a few people that can put their legs behind their head.” THUD. Your heart rammed into your ribs.

“Oh? Then why bother coming backstage? Surely not to get an autograph, mine’s not that pretty.”

He smirked, leaning closer to your ear, his breath hot against your skin. “How else would I ask you to dinner?”

*                      * “We dated for a while, he stopped playing professional volleyball and joined my sister and I on the road. We got married about a year or so later.”

“You traveled for acrobatic routines?” She looks up at you, making sure she had the facts right and not in the condescending way other reporters had looked at you.

“Yes. It was the one and only thing my sister and I actually did together. Well, unless you count the incident that landed me here.” You pull your legs off the counter, standing up to stretch a bit.

“If you had to describe how you felt that night, the night of the incident, which word would you use?” “Betrayed.”

*                      * “I can’t believe it! Two hundred shows, that’s insane!” Your sister laughed, popping open a new bottle of champagne, haphazardly pouring it into you and Oikawa’s glasses.

“I can. You two are simply amazing.” He pressed a sloppy kiss on your temple before downing his drink.

The three of you were in you and Oikawa’s hotel room, celebrating the fact that the show you just finished had been the two hundredth show you and your sister had done. It was a huge feat for the two of you since you didn’t have a proper manager, Oikawa had been doing the best he could in the three years you’d been together.

You watched as your sister turned up the music that had been playing, dragging Oikawa to his feet and making him spin her around as they did something that looked like dancing. You laughed, loving how close your sister and husband were, it made the three of you traveling all over easier on you. You didn’t have to worry about petty fights and having to pick sides because that would’ve been hell. Acrobatics was the biggest thing that linked you and your sister after years of being polar opposites and you wouldn’t trade your relationship with Oikawa for anything, he was the only person other that your sister that understood you, made you feel safe.

“Maybe while I go get ice, you two can learn how to dance.”

The three of you all laughed, a mix of happiness and alcohol clouding everyone’s judgements and decisions. You turned to look back at them once more before slipping down the hallway, empty ice bucket in hand, feeling on top of the world.

*                      * Alex shifts in her seat uncomfortably, she knows what you’re going to tell her next. She’s read the reports, seen the crime scene photos but just like her last interview, the emotional recollection of the events made it that much harder to stomach.

“You couldn’t have been gone long though.” “Heh.” You scoff, “long enough apparently.”

*                      * They must not have heard the door click open due to the loudness of the music, that’s what you told yourself when you say your sister and husband in the compromised position you found them in. They would’ve jumped apart, right?

Would’ve told you that it wasn’t what it looked like, right?

That it was just the alcohol, right?

Not just continuing the crude act they were preforming, right?

Then it all hit you, like a train, the way your sister would look at him. How her fingers would linger on him when she handed him something. How you’d seen his eyes follow her around a room while sitting next to you. How all the times you found them together, looking like two teenagers who were walked in on, didn’t seem so innocent anymore, you didn’t seem so paranoid now.

Your vision seemed both blurry and red at the same time. An intense anger that you’d never felt before, is that what it felt like to have the two people you loved more than life itself betray you? You sat the ice bucket down, fingers wrapped the candlestick on the shelf. You chuckled, remembering how your sister had pointed it out calling it tacky, maybe in some sense that was ironic.

You lifted it above your head with both hands, the last thing your remembered was Oikawa shouting your name as your sister screamed.

*                      * “You really don’t remember anything else?” Alex is quickly writing down what you’ve said, making sure not to miss any detail.

“Not at all. Not until I walked into the bathroom.”

*                      * You cocked your head to the side, watching as the red liquid dripped from your hands, how it just smeared when you rubbed your hands together. You saw how your golden band was stained as you ran water over your hands, the white sink turning pink. It was in that moment you knew that both your sister and husband were dead.

*                      * “I know that look.” You say, looking directly at Alex, who looks positively pale.

“What look?”

“The ‘I can’t believe they did that’ look.” You scoff. “As if you know what you would do in that situation.”

“I don’t, but…”

You cut her off, “then how can you tell me that I was wrong?”

Series Masterlist here

General Masterlist here

[lyfrassirrrrrrrr]

Trying Times

Chapter 5: Totally Fucked

Here it is ladies and gentlemen, may I present to you chapter 5! We’re getting to the juice bits now folks!

Part one

...

“All hands on deck!” Martha shouts. It’s crazy how just a minute ago he and James were just talking, now look at this. John drew closer to the screen, which showed the camera feed being cut.

“Don’t the pro heroes have it covered?” James questioned as he took out his suit.

“For the most part, but it’s taking all of them to make sure Chaos doesn't do anything.. We need to evacuate the citizens” Martha said sternly, getting ‘the bus’ ready. The bus was their vehicle that they used when they went on trips. It was pretty decked out, and each kid had their own seat.

John walked up to martha, giving her a glance, he looked quite nervous as he tried to find the right words. “Martha? Am I allowed to come? George seemed… pretty pissed” he gave a nervous shrug.

The woman just gave a fond smile and reassured him that he could come. They loaded onto the bus, ready to take on the world. But nothing would be able to prepare them for what they would see.

…

The blocked off area was chaotic to say the least. Pros were everywhere trying to minimize the damage Chaos was doing, and most of them were injured. That wasn't the worst part. General George Washington was laying on the side of the road, bleeding out.

He was bloodied and bruised from almost every angle, he wouldn't respond to any of the worried shouts the children gave. Martha ordered them to go and help the civilians while her hands glew a soft green and she began to heal George. Martha had said they were here to help evacuate, but John couldn’t stand there and just let this happen. The General- the strongest hero in the world had fallen. Who’s to say the pros won’t either? Who’s to say he can beat him?

In his mind, it didn't matter. He couldn't just stand there and do anything.

…

“John what are you doing?”

John came to a screeching halt as he groaned and slowly turned to face Eliza. Now, Eliza wasn’t a junior hero to take lightly, literally. She was, well, an angel. At a young age, Eliza had been in a villain attack, having been born powerless, she was helpless and sustained heavy injuries. During surgery she had died for almost an hour. When she had come back it was a miracle. Shortly after she began to discover powers of light, and sprouted angel wings. It was across headlines everywhere. By the age of 12, she had joined the Junior heroes as ‘Miracle’

“Why does it matter, Miracle? You’ve got people to evacuate.” John said, shrugging off her concern.

“It matters because you are also supposed to be evacuating.”

“Do you see how this is going? The pro’s are getting the shit beaten out of them!” John shouted, his whole body going tense.

“John-”

“And how do you suppose we defeat them, darling?” A new voice- Thomas- drawled out. Thomas Jefferson was born from a rich family, had everything going for him. Though soon in life his father had passed and left his mother, Jane Jefferson, to provide for him. Thomas was born with a full set of hair that seemed to have a mind of his own, and he quickly earned the nickname ‘Curls’ which was now his hero name.

“Curls-” Eliza started, only to be interrupted by him once more.

“I’m not wrong, Miracle.” He’d crossed his arms and gave a glance at John, who’s eyes were glued at his feet. “We aren’t as advanced, we just gotta let them handle-”

“We have to do something, we can’t just sit here and watch our home be destroyed! Pros out there are dying- while we are doing nothing! So for God’s sake Thomas, get that stick out of your ass and help us, or there won’t be a home for these citizens to come back to!” John shouted, tears slowly welling up in his eyes as he stared down at the two.

Eliza gave a resigned sigh as she went closer to John, resting her hand on his shoulder. “Promise me, the moment it becomes too much, you’ll back out.”

John’s eyes lit up as he gave a slow but certain nod.

“Then we’ll come with you. Right, Curls?” She gave a glance at Curls, who gave a reluctant and frustrated groan.

“We get in trouble, and I blame it on you two.” He said, which Eliza only gave a laugh and nodded.

“Then let’s go.”

…

“-rge! ….George you have to wake up!” Someone.. No.. Martha? Martha had been shouting. Why? He was fine. He planned to say as much, but the moment he opened his eyes the light burned into his retinas and he had no other choice than to clamp his eyes shut. A weak groan escaped his lips as he turned over.

“M’rtha..?” He rasped out

“Yeah.. Yeah honey, it’s me.” She said, tears dripping down her cheeks as she gave a hug to her husband.

“Where..?”

“A Medic tent, you were badly injured when we found you.” She explained as she took George’s vitals.

“Oh Georgie, why are you even trying to get him back?” Chaos said, adding another kick to his ribs as he knocked George into a building. Chaos gave a psychotic look as he launched himself from the rooftop into George, who caught Chaos right before he crashed into him.

“Oh.” He hummed out, still out of his own mind due to the drugs to dull the pain. “‘’Lex…?”

“Because he’s my son, and he’s still in there!” George yelled out as he pinned Chaos to the building. He started to crystalize Chaos’ arms to the building but as he did so, Chaos only laughed

Martha’s heart wanted to shatter in two. She knew how much Alexander meant to George, and him knowing he was still out there, causing pain, it hurt so much.

“No.. we haven’t gotten him yet..”

“What’s so funny?” George spat out as he gripped Chaos tighter, causing Chaos to look right into his eyes and laugh.

“Alexander was never real, Georgie. He was just an act, don't you get it?”

George gave a frown, humming out a noise of acknowledgement. Martha could only hope he was too out of his head to really think about Alex right now, god knows how much the two of them have been feeling since he was crystalized, George more than her.

“What are you talking about..?” He flinched back, giving Chaos the opportunity to break free and grab him.

“Alexander was just an act to get close to you, and boy did it work. I never knew it would tear you up on the inside like this! Funny, isn’t it?”

Before Washington could respond Chaos threw him to the ground at full force, laughing maniacally.

“Don’t worry, we’ll get him back. Okay?” She soothingly told him, hoping to calm him down.

“Mmhm..” He drawled out, unconsciousness closing in on him.

…

Alexander sat atop a roof as he stared down at all the carnage he had created, giving a big grin as he watched the Junior heroes try to evacuate the people. Though, 3 seemed to be missing. It was only a matter of time, he supposed.

“Chaos!”

Ah, there they were! He turned around to face the owner of the voice, John Laurens, and his allies. He gave a smug grin as he raised an eyebrow.

“Stop this, come with us or we’ll use force” John said, trying his best to sound confident.

This got his full undivided attention as he slowly rose up, gripping his blade. The junior heroes stood back, knowing fully well that Chaos was dangerous.

“Funny how you think you can win when I took down your leader. Though I'm fine with the entertainment. Amuse me, will you?”

Thomas gave a growl as his hair grew into 2 hands as he tried to restrain Chaos, who simply dodged and shot a beam of green energy at him. Eliza flew up and threw balls of light around Chaos, which soon exploded onto Chaos. The smoke cleared up, his green eyes piercing through it as he ran at Eliza, quickly restraining her.

He turned his attention to John, who held his grappling hook tight. He aimed it at Chaos, his hand shaking as the demon drew closer and closer until-

“NOW!” he shouted

Alex turned around quickly, suprise painting his face as Eliza jumped up, flying with Thomas. Thomas’s hair formed into a giant fly swatter and quickly crashed down onto Alex, who shouted in suprise. John shot his grappling hook around Alex, tying him up quickly and efficiently.

“Eliza! Call Martha before-” John started before he was interrupted by a fit of laughter.

Chaos laughed harder and harder, until he just stopped, leaving the rooftop in eerie silence.

“Did we kill- WOAH-” John shouted as his hands were crystalized to the floor. He stared at his hands in confusion.. Washington..? Was he here? No. He was badly injured- then how?

Before he realized it, Chaos had thrown Eliza to the floor, breaking her left wing. Both Thomas and John yelled out in concern for Eliza, but Thomas was quickly grabbed and the tips of his hair were crystalized. Thomas managed to land a punch on the other, creating time to move Eliza to a safer spot and telling her to go get help.

Chaos launched himself into Thomas, grabbing his arm and swinging him round and round before throwing him into the side of a building.

That just left John, now. He gave a gulp as he glared down Alex, refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeing him terrified.

“Poor thing, powerless and alone.” Chaos said as he cupped John’s cheeks, giving a soft smile that just felt wrong. “I like you, I think I’ll keep you, yeah?”

“Wha-” John blinked in surprise as everything around him was surrounded in light. “W-Wait!” He called out, panic growing in his chest.

But it was too late.

…

Once they realized Chaos had left the police force and ambulances had come, taking control of the situation. Martha was gathering up the junior heroes when Eliza had ran over, holding an unconscious Thomas. Her eyes looked panicked, her eyes pleading with Martha.

“What happened?” She questioned frantically as she took Thomas and began to heal the boy.

“They took John..”

[kadtherine]

@anoasisinawasteland​‘s fic request “if you could do anything about Team Legends - being domestic/arguing on the ship... - going on a vacation and wrecking havoc, being the adorable, nerdy fuck ups. Time Mum and Dad being disappointed but also joining in on the fun. - Gideon's pov over the team. Like a day in the life of Gideon and how she sees and reacts to the team” (LoT fandom)

i’m so sorry it took so long ! i’ve been swamped with work and stuff and i was hesitating between writing this and a gideon’s pov fic. - the latter will definitely happen at some point, because I absolutely love the idea.

hopefully you’ll like it! 

“This is a bad idea.”

 Jax shared an eye roll with Sara, both groaning loudly. From where he was leaning against Rip’s office doorframe, Ray frowned, miffed, while Nate pouted at his feet, his arms crossed in petulance. Amaya threw them a look before turning to Mick, the latter responding to her cocked eyebrow with a low grumble. Martin, unlike the others, didn’t seem undeterred nor peeved by the Time Master’s constant pessimism.

“Have a bit of faith, Captain,” Martin insisted, his grin hopeful. Rip responded by cocking an eyebrow, his expression unmoved, “We arse all responsible adults, aren’t we?”

“I beg to differ,” Rip muttered, gaze darting from one person to the other.

 “Oh come on,” Sara groaned, getting up from her chair and walked to her co-Captain, “We’ve celebrated Christmas in March this year, in the 18th Century. I think we should be allowed to celebrate the 4th of July with the others in our actual timeline.”

“Oh I’ve got nothing against you lot causing chaos outside of my ship,” he retorted, his eyes wide-opened and his arms crossed against his chest. Sara mimicked his posture, her head tilted to the side, “I don’t even know why I’m involved in this, I’m British, in case you didn’t notice,” he added, his accent purposefully thicker.

“Oh we’ve noticed,” Sara muttered to herself, running her fingers through her hair. She plastered a smile on when he glared down at her, “Come on, Rip. It’s going to be fine,” she repeated, her tone slightly gentle.

 “It’s going to be fun,” Jax added, “We’ve been at it non-stop for a year, man. We need a - well-deserved if I do say so myself – break.” 

Rip’s gaze moved from to Jax to Nate and Ray, both of them staring at him eagerly and excitedly, to Amaya and Mick, who seemed to share the same indifference and complete boredom, to Martin, the latter staring at him with a knowing glint in his eyes. Finally, his eyes fell back onto Sara, rolling his eyes and stiffening a groan at her exaggerated pout and fluttering eyelashes. Letting out a sigh, Rip looked up to the ceiling, defeated.

 “Gideon.”

“Yes, Captain?

“Chart a course for Star City, 2017. Present time,” he announced, rubbing his temples and ignoring the elaborated handshake exchanged between Ray and Nate.

“Right away, Captain. Shall we plan a stop to Central City first?” Gideon recommended, oblivious to the Englishman’s growing distress. Seemingly oblivious. 

“Might as well,” Rip conceded, leaning back onto the holotable, avoiding Sara’s piercing stare, “Oy!” he called, frowning when he saw Jax, Ray and Nate leaving the bridge, “Where do you think you’re going? We’re about to time jump?”

“We’re taking the drop ship,” Jax told him, not even bothering to ask if he could actually take the ship. It was as much his that it was Rip’s, seeing as he was the most qualified to use it, “We’re going to buy some stuff for the barbecue. Race you there!” he added with a self-assured smirk.

The trio was gone before Rip could argue that they already had food on board and that the jumpship wasn’t a racecar. He groaned as he caught sight of Mick’s smirk, the latter patting his shoulder with unnecessary force as he passed him by, quickly followed by Martin and Amaya. Rubbing the back of his neck, he looked down at Sara, frowning when he found her still staring at him, her eyes narrowed and her lips puckered.

“What is it, now?” Rip sighed, cocking an eyebrow.

“Just promise me something,” she held out a hand to stop any form of protesting, “You won’t go hide yourself and wallow in your room when we’ll get to Star City. 

“And why would I do that?” Sara cocked an eyebrow at him, her arms crossed as she stood her ground, “I don’t even need to be here. Again, British,” he protested, pointing a finger to himself, “And this party isn’t for me, this is for you. All of you.”

“Still, you’re part of this team and we’re your friends. I won’t have you shut down in your room like a petulant child or moody teenager,” she insisted, “Captain’s orders,” her smug tone matching her smirk.

“You do realize that this is a shared title, right? You hold no power over me, whatsoever,” Rip deadpanned. He let out a groan at the narrowing of her eyes and low growl, “Fine, I’ll go to your bloody party and promise to not lock myself into my room like a petulant child or moody teenager,” he consented, mimicking her earlier words.

Apparently satisfied with his response, Sara shot him a bright grin and held out a hand for him to take, her head tilted to the side. Snorting in amusement, Rip accepted the hand and gave it a firm, ceremonial shake. She took him by surprise by pulling him closer to her and dropping a resounding kiss onto his cheek. Leaning back with a wide grin on her face, Sara gave his hand one last squeeze before she let go and skipped to her chair under Mick’s crude whistles, leaving a frozen and bewildered Rip behind her. 

“-Ter? Captain Hunter?” Gideon’s slightly irritated voice pulled him out of his trance.

He blinked a few times before shaking his head and falling back onto the heels of his feet.

 “Yes, Gideon?” Rip cleared his throat, passing his fingers through his hair. 

“It would probably be best for you to strapped in. We are about to time jump.” 

“Right you are, as always,” he muttered, ignoring Sara’s smirk as he went to sit beside her, his gaze focused on the control panel in front of him.

This was a horribly, terrifyingly bad idea.

  Sara scowled as she took survey of the bridge, her arms crossed. He wasn’t here. Of fucking course, he wasn’t. They had landed in a Starling City abandoned park a couple of hours ago and their gathering of Supers – and a Golden Glider – was in full blast. With a sigh, she pushed back her hair and raised on her toes, hoping to catch a mess of blonde curls or a sharp green gaze. She walked by a gawking Diggle and an amused Oliver as the former took the ship’s interior, muttering to himself about time ships. Making her way down the lowered gate, she restrained a frustrated groan as she noticed that Rip wasn’t outside by the grills either. She stopped a second at the sight of Mick standing – too - close to a flaming pit, an unimpressed Lisa Snart by his side. She let herself breathe out in relief when she noticed Amaya standing a few steps away from the duo of rogues, her eyes darting every two seconds to them before she resumed her discussion with Alex – Kara’s older sister – and her girlfriend, Maggie.

Sara made her way back to the bridge, dodging she added fondly dubbed as the group of geeks and nerds – namely Barry, Cisco, Caitlin, Wally, Felicity, Nate, Ray and Winn – and walked to Kara, Iris and Thea, the trio observing the arguing with a mix of puzzlement and amusement. Seeing her approached, the younger Queen grabbed a bottle of beer from behind her and handed it to her. Sara accepted the drink with a grateful smile before she quickly uncapped it and took a huge gulp of it, sighing in relief as she cradled the bottle to her chest.

 “Damn,” Iris whistled.

 “Ditto. Hard being in charge?” Thea teased, her arms crossed and her own bottle hanging loosely between her fingers.

 “You have no idea,” Sara muttered, running her fingers through her hair before casting another look around the bridge, “Say, you wouldn’t have seen a blonde, brooding, Englishman about ye high around the bridge?”

 She watched as they exchanged looks before all shaking their heads, much to Sara’s dismay. With another sigh, she shot them another smile before resuming her search through the ship. She was tempted to go and march to Jax but decided to not to when seeing he was with his mother and the Stein family, apparently deep in conversation. She waited for him to catch her eye before she mouthed a simple question at him.

 Where the fuck is Rip?

 Jax gave her a clueless shrug to which Sara responded with an eye roll and a groan, her head falling back. It snapped back up when she heard him give a sharp whistle. Cocking an eyebrow at him, Jax responded with a smirk and a nod in her direction. With a frown, Sara twirled onto her heels and caught sight of Rip trying to sneak past their exceptional guests and into his office. That fucker.

 “Ah-ah!” Sara exclaimed as she stormed toward him, smugly satisfied when he let out a yelp, “There you are: I was this close to seek Gideon on your ass. I thought we had a deal going on, Hunter.”

 “We do,” he agreed, leaning back onto the doorframe of his office, “And as you can see, I’m not brooding like a moody teenager in my room.”

 “You’re still avoiding people,” she pointed, “You need to mingle, get to know them.”

 “I am not avoiding people,” Rip protested, pinching the bridge of his nose, “And I’ve already ‘mingled’ as you put it. By the way, I’ve had a lovely discussion with Lily Stein, whom which I had no idea existed until today,” he added, his jaw clenched and his eyes darkening.

 He scoffed when she returned his look, unperturbed by it. She didn’t try to contain her victorious smirk when he looked away, shaking his head. He was angry, irritated that they had kept things from him, things of great importance. Oh, how the tables have turned. She watched as his anger deflated, his shoulders relaxing. Sara understood that while he wouldn’t push it now, they weren’t done talking about it.

 “I already know those people. I’m from the future, remember?” Rip waggled his eyebrows at her.

 “You know of those people or you know their futures selves. Two different things. Here, ” Sara handed him his beer, which he accepted the drink with a frown, wary, “You need to stop acting like a disgruntled old cat,” she said, wrapping an arm around his.

 “You sure know how to make a guy feel nice about himself, Ms Lance,” Rip muttered, unconsciously taking a sip of her beer.

 “What? Am I supposed to compliment you on your looks to get you to do what I want? Alright, then. You look really dashing today, Captain.”

 Rip let out a snort, looking down at his outfit. Sara didn’t think that he had gone through the trouble of passing a comb through his hair, nor did he spent more than ten minutes looking for clothes to her, but he did. Annoyingly so, Rip looked good. He had abandoned his trench coat and had donned his brown worn out leather jacket, leaving it open to show the black shirt he was wearing underneath, matching with his dark jeans.

 “Thanks, I guess,” Rip shot her a crooked smile, giving her a quick once-over, “I guess I could say the same thing about you, Miss Lance.”

 “Oh you old charmer, you!” Sara cooed, dramatically flipping her hair over her shoulder as she began to pull on his arm, “Come on, now. Less flattering, more walking.”

 Rip reluctantly followed her, making sure to dig his heels into the ground to slow down their pace. He responded to Sara’s glare with a look of his own, reminding her that he was being forced into this and that he could have very well taken his drop ship and gotten the hell out of here. Snorting, Sara resumed her trek toward where she had last seen Oliver and Diggle, grinning when she noticed they had been joined by her own father, Barry, Joe, Jimmy, J’onn and Lyla, the latter carrying little Sara in her arms.

 “Fellas, ladies,” Sara called, her grin widening when they all turned to look at her, “Allow me to introduce you Captain Rip Hunter,” she nudged his shoulder with his, “Rip, I believe you already know who’s who.”

 “Of course,” he gave them a nod, clearing his throat, “I’ve heard a lot about you. All of you. I would shake your hands if I had access to either one of them,” he added, shooting Sara a look, the latter ignoring it in favour of making faces to her namesake.

 “It’s great to meet you, Rip,” Oliver nodded, holding his beer in greeting.

 “Yeah, man. You’ve got a pretty cool ship,” Barry added, looking around himself in awe, “Didn’t get to see much of it last time.”

 “Speaking of,” Diggle started with a frown, “We didn’t meet you then. Y’know, when we’re fighting aliens. I can’t believe those words left my mouth,” he added, mostly to himself.

 “I can’t believe they did either,” Quentin muttered, patting Diggle on the back.

 “Ah, yes,” Rip cleared his throat, switching his beer from one to the other so he could rub the back of his neck, ‘I was… unavailable at the time, actually.”

 They all stared back at him, their eyebrows raised to their hairlines as if silently asking what could be more important than helping his team fight off an invasion of aliens. Rip kept his attention onto his beer while they stayed quiet. Sara – dear, beautiful Sara – put an end to the uncomfortable silence and held out her arms to the youngest Diggle, squirming the latter squirming in her mother’s arms as if trying to escape. He watched, mesmerized, as Sara put the toddler onto her hip without taking her arm away from his. Someone cleared out their throat and Rip’s attention turned back to the group in front of him.

 “And… you’re a Time Traveller, is that it?” Joe prompted a change of subject and Rip could’ve hugged him.

 “Master, actually,” he automatically corrected, letting himself breathe again, “And I was. The term doesn’t apply anymore since the Vanishing Point has been blown out. Semantics,” he quickly added when met with blank spaces.

 “So you’re pretty much the last of your kind? Like Doctor Who?” Barry exclaimed as he excitedly bounced on the balls of his feet, only stopping when Joe put an end on his shoulder.

 “One of the few, actually,” Rip answered, frowning at the comparison, “And contrary to your precious Doctor, I am very much human, “ he added, throwing at Sara when she scoffed, “Actually, I’m hoping to make Time Masters out of them,” he nodded toward the blonde stuck to his side.

 He was vaguely aware of the discussion going on between Oliver and Diggle, concerning the realness of time travel. From the amused smirk plastered onto the former’s face, he guessed than it was easier for Mr Queen to get used to the strangeness of the situation than it was for Mr Diggle.

 “Good luck with that,” Quentin snorted, pulling him out of his thoughts, “God knows what you had in mind when you formed this team.

 “Aye,” Rip agreed, clicking the neck of his bottle to Quentin’s, “I ask myself the same question everyday.”

 Sipping on his beer, he didn’t acknowledge the glare Sara was sending him, his attention focused onto a commotion happening in the corner of the ship.

 “You know you love us, Hunter.”

 “Don’t know where you got that idea, picking you lot made my life even more difficult than it already was,” Rip retorted after swallowing the alcohol. He frowned as he noticed movement out of the corner of his eye, “OY! Where are you going now?!”

 Sara looked up at the exclamation and followed Rip’s gaze, finding the reason of his outburst. The previous group of nerds and geeks had enlarged itself, now containing Jax, Kara, Thea and Iris. She frowned when she realized that, for some reason, Nate had steeled on. As if small children being chastised, the entire group had stopped, their previous enthusiasm suddenly gone. Except for Ray’s and Nate’s, which did nothing to reassure Sara.

 “We’re going to see who’s stronger between Kara and myself,” Nate replied, bouncing in excitement.

 “Oh really? And how and where do you plan to do that?” Rip sarcastically retorted. As Nate went to answer, he held out a hand, stopping him, “That was rhetorical, Dr Heywood. I’ve been told of the circumstances of your training with Dr Palmer and its following consequences. You must’ve gone absolutely bonkers if you think you’re going to fight onto this ship.”

 “Yeah, I’m with Rip on this, guys. Plus, no offense Nate, but you wouldn’t last a second against her. She’s called Supergirl for a reason,” Sara intervened.

 Kara hummed approvingly and, like the dork that she was, put both of her fists on her hips as she turned to shot a smug smirk at Nate, the latter pouting.

 “But that happened in the temporal zone!” Ray protested, frowning, “We’re in the present and on ground, Nate won’t be falling through time and into Feudal Japan this time.”

 “Exactly, which is why you can try and go kill each other outside of the Waverider,” Sara said, soothingly rubbing the back of the whining toddler.

 Rip’s head sharply turned to her, his eyes wide-opened at the suggestion and deaf to the group’s disturbing cheers. Sara responded with an indifferent shrug.

 “Who’s going to try to get himself killed? Ooh, can I watch? Can I try?’

 He didn’t notice Mick and Lisa re-entering the bridge until they were both standing by his side, the younger Snart smirking as she twirled a dark curl around her finger while Mick looked his usual interested self, a half eaten hot dog in his hand. From the corner of his eyes, he could see both Quentin and Joe reaching for their guns, remembering only a second too late that they hadn’t take it with them. Sara matched Lisa’s smirk and Rip looked up to the heavens, as if hoping for some sort of divine intervention.

 “No one’s going to try to get himself or herself killed,” he gritted through clenched teeth, “Now, what do you want?”

 “The armoury. What are the access codes?” Mick grumbled, stuffing the rest of his sandwich in his mouth.

 “Why the bloody hell would you need the access codes to the armoury?” Rip asked, rubbing his temples.

 “It’s getting dark outside. We need to step up the fireworks,” he shrugged,-“Y’know, I’m just asking to be polite.”

 “And I’m saying this with all due respect, Mr Rory. There is absolutely no way I will ever trust you with flammable and explosive flying rockets,” Rip retorted.

 “I’ll be here to watch over him,” Lisa assured, her arms crossed as she watched the exchange with amusement.

 “Oh good, in that case, I don’t see why I shouldn’t give them to you right away,” Rip deadpanned.

 Having already lost interested in the argument, Mick focused his attention onto the group that had abandoned the idea of watching a match between Kara and Nate and was listening to the discussion, curious. Mick’s gaze went from one person to another, his eyes narrowed in thought before he slowly made his way to them, ignoring Rip’s protests as he snatched the beer out of his hands.

 “You’re supposed to be geniuses, right?” he asked, downing the rest of the beer in one-go. He rolled his eyes when they all exchanged glances, as if silently asking if they were talking to them, “Look, can one of you get passed those codes?”

 “Well of course,” Winn scoffed, offended of having his talents questioned, “But what is in for us?”

 “Eternal gratitude, personal satisfaction, the fact you succeeded in hacking a spaceship,” Mick listed, “I don’t know and I don’t care. Can one of you do it?”

 “First of all, it’s a time ship,” Jax corrected, his arms crossed and his brow furrowed, “And sure, I’m game. What about you, guys?”

 “Okay, this isn’t fair. You know every inch of this ship. You’ve got an unfair advantage,” Cisco protested, to which Winn agreed.

“If you boys don’t feel like you’ve got what it takes, we’ll understand,” Felicity intervened, patting them on the back in mock sympathy, “I, on the other hand, am always up for a challenge,” she added, cracking her fingers.

 Jax smirked before turning on his heels and walking off the bridge, closely followed by Felicity. Both Winn and Cisco exchanged a look before storming after the others, each trying to outrace the other. With a victorious smirk, Mick shoved the empty bottle back into Rip’s hand and walked off with Lisa on his heels, the latter patting the bewildered Captain’s cheek as she passed him by. Kara, Thea and Iris silently joined their group, the latter immediately going to her boyfriend and father’s sides while Thea stuck to her brother’s and Kara stopped next to Sara.

 “This was a terrible idea,” Rip let out, once he had composed himself.

 “Awful,” Sara agreed with him, gently squeezing his arm in support.

 “I should never listen to you,” he continued, shaking his head, “Nothing good ever comes out of me listening to you.”

 Sara hummed in agreement, to placate him. She caught Oliver’s narrowed eyes staring at her and cocked an eyebrow at him, slightly irritated by his scrutiny. He responded with a shake of head, a knowing smile plastered on his face. She wanted to slap that smile off his face so badly. Letting out a sigh, Sara broke the stare-off and cleared her throat, focusing her attention back onto the drooling toddler in her arms.

 “Well,” Kara breathed out, her cheeks puffed, “My bet’s on Winn.”

 Grinning, she exchanged high-fives with James and J’onn when both gave an approving nod. Barry let out a scoff, an arm wrapped around Iris’ shoulders

 “While I don’t doubt Winn’s abilities, have you met Cisco? I mean, come on: let’s be real.”

 “Have you met Felicity?” Thea countered, crossing her arms, “She’ll have that armoury opened in a matter of seconds.

 “Amen to that,” Diggle said, raising his drink in her direction. Thea mimicked the gesture.

 “Seriously, guys?” Sara intervened, tired and slightly annoyed. All felt silent at the small reprimand, their heads bowed down, “This discussion is ridiculous and pathetic. Jax is the one I’m putting my money on: he does know the ship best,” Sara smirked at their outraged cries, “GET OUT YOUR WALLETS, LADIES AND GENTLEMEN: I’M GOING TO BE RICH!”

 Rip snorted.

 “You’re all ridiculous : none of them are going to succeed in unlocking the armoury’s doors since Gideon won’t let them,” he snorted, smirking in satisfaction.

 Sara scoffed and rolled her eyes at him, unable to stop her amused smile. Of course they wouldn’t. That explained why he had put much of a fight earlier. Turning away from him, she was met with blank and confused stares. Barry seemed to be the exception, his eyes widened opened and a grin plastered on his face.

 “No way, you’ve got your own Gideon?”

 “Wait, who’s Gideon?” Thea asked, her brown furrowed in confusion.

 Rip’s smirk widened as he looked up at the ceiling.

 “That would be me, Ms Queen,” the A.I’s response echoed through the ship and made more than a few people jumped in surprise. Sara couldn’t help the small chuckle that escaped her lips at their reactions, “I’m very pleased to make your acquaintance.”

 “The pleasure’s all mine, Gideon,” Thea retorted, her grin matching Barry’s?

 “Please, tell me I’m not the only hearing that voice,” Diggle pleaded, his eyes closed.

 “I assure you Mr Diggle, I’m not the result of a hallucination,” Gideon replied, her tone slightly amused, “I’d like to think that I’m my own person, Mr Allen. But as for your question, I’ll only say this: I’m merely an improvement from your Gideon.”

 “Cool,” Barry whispered, his grin almost splitting his face in two before he cleared his throat and added louder, “It’s good to hear you, Gideon.”

 “Not as much as it is to hear you, Mr Allen,” she returned, her tone warm.

 “Now that you’ve had your heartfelt reunion, we can focused on more important matters, Gideon,” Rip intervened, the corner of his mouth lifting up to form a half smile, “Namely making sure Mr Rory doesn’t get his hands on fireworks.”

 “Are you insinuating that I would let them in merely for my own entertainment, Captain?” Gideon asked, her tone falsely offended, “That would be dreadful etiquette.”

 “Indeed, it would and I wouldn’t dare suggesting anything of the sort. However, I do know how you get when bored,” he retorted, rocking back and forth on his feet.

 “Oh believe me, they’re providing enough entertainment for it to be impossible for me to get bored. Should I warn them that any of their attempts would only result in failure, Captain?”

 “Eh, maybe in 15 or 20 minutes,” Rip shrugged, his smile stretching onto his entire face, “Let them have their fun. Have yours, Gideon.”

 “Roger that, Captain.”

 Rip couldn’t help but snort, fondly shaking his head at the A.I’s eagerness. As he looked back to their guests, he was met with a mix of wonder, amusement and confusion. Diggle looked down right terrified, he remarked. His gaze mindlessly racking through the various people gathered around the ship, it stopped when noticing a lone figure, leaning against a wall and silently observing her surroundings with a keen eye. His head tilted to the side, he narrowed his eyes at her before looking down at Sara, the latter looking back at him, a small smile playing at the corner of her lips. She squeezed his arm as if to encourage him. Letting out a sigh, Rip returned his eyes to where he had noticed the loner, almost relieved when finding out she hadn’t move.

 “Excuse me,” he announced loudly, detangling his arm from Sara as he began to work from the group, “It was nice to meet all of you,” he added, for good measure.

 With her newly freed arm, Sara adjusted her hold on the youngest – now sleeping – Diggle and watched, her bottom lip stuck between her teeth, as Rip hesitantly made his way to her, mostly oblivious to the conversation going on or the look her father was currently sending her.

 “Oliver, the guy had an entire discussion with his ship, do not tell me calm down-”

 “Fancy seeing you here.”

 Eve Baxter’s head snapped up toward him, the slight widening of her eyes being the only thing betraying her surprise. Rip tried a smile and was relieved when she shot him a genuine one in return. She pushed herself off the wall and went to meet him. There was something strange in seeing a fellow Time Master walk freely in his ship. There also was something strangely comforting in seeing Eve Baxter.

 “I couldn’t refuse free food or booze, even if it meant associating with your band of hooligans, Hunter,” Eve countered, lifting her half empty bottle of Corona for him to see.

 “What are you doing here? Not that I mean I’m minding your presence, it’s just-“

 “Fucking weird?” she offered, the ghost of a smirk on her lips. She let out a soft, almost inaudible chuckle at Rip’s nod, “Your co-captain invited me, actually. She’s quite persistent, this one,” she remarked, cocking an eyebrow.

 Rip snorted, getting rid of his empty bottle in exchange of a fresh one. He opened without any struggles and slowly began to work in direction of his study, silently inviting her to follow him.

 “You have no idea,” he muttered.

 “By the way, I hadn’t take you for one to share, especially this,” Eve said, matching his stride.

 “Well it was mostly out of necessity, really,” he explained, skidding to a stop when they reached their destination, “But it turned out pretty alright.”

 Eve hummed, taking a sip of her beer and letting herself slide onto the stairs. Letting out a sigh, Rip sat down next to her, his own bottle dangerously dangling from his fingers.

 “I can see that,” she nodded, “You and your merry bands of misfits has improved since the last time I’ve seen you. You must’ve been pretty busy after blowing up the Vanishing Point.”

 Rip’s eyes widened at the nonchalant statement, finding himself speechless as he stared at her. Eve didn’t seem to be bothered by his staring nor his stunned silent. She had expected it, he realized as he noticed the beginning of a smirk at the corner of her mouth. Surprisingly, her tone hadn’t been reproachful, nor was her smirk disdainful. Eve had simply stated a fact and seemed, now, amused by his reaction.

 “Oh come on, Rip. Close that gaping mouth of yours,” she snickered, “Who else would dare?” Eve added, waggling her eyebrows at him.

 Rip’s mouth snapped shut, his teeth crashing together in a loud ‘clank’. Rubbing his jaw, he took a sip of his beer before clearing his throat. Blowing the Vanishing Point had been kind of an impulsive decision, thinking of the greater good rather that the consequences that would result from his actions. Neither had he thought about the other – now former – Time Masters away on missions.

 “Ah. How have you been, uh, doing, by the way?” All of you, he added inwardly.

 “You mean without any orders or directions?” Eve shrugged, taking a swing of her drink, “I mean, pretty well considering. We’re all technically ‘Time Vigilantes’, operating without a higher authority. We’ve got our ships and enough resources, so there’s that.”

 “Ah. Well, sorry about that,” he grimaced, rubbing the back of his neck.

 “Oh no, I didn’t mean it as a bad thing,” Eve was quick to assure, running her fingers through her hair, “I’m sure you’ve had your reasons to do what you did. Maybe it was for the best,” she muttered to herself, playing with the bottle between her hands.

 Rip frowned down at her, trying to reconcile the person sitting next to him to the Captain bent on respecting the rules he had briefly heard during his assignments and had officially met when being captured during her rescue mission. He sighed and tore his gaze from Eve, focusing onto the party going on around them.

 “You know,” Rip started, his head tilted to the side, “We could always use a second proper Time Master around here,” he shrugged in mock nonchalance, throwing her a quick look from the corner of his eye.

 Eve mimicked his head tilt and pursed her lips, humming in thought.

 “Tempting,” she admitted, the corner of her mouth twitching up, “I’ll have to pass, though. I don’t work well with others and no matter how nice the Waverider is, the Acheron owns my heart. Plus, I’ve been putting a lot of thoughts into settling down,” Eve confessed, her bottom stuck into her teeth. When meeting Rip’s surprised look, she scoffed, “You’re no special snowflake, Hunter. And I’m thinking that some time off would be nice.”

 Rip snorted and gave her a small nod, stretching his legs in front of him and balancing his beer onto his knee.

 “Well, that’s a noble decision for you to make. And if you ever need any help-” he started, holding his drink in front of him.

 Eve shot him a small smile in return, knocking her bottle into his.

 “Then, I’ll know who to call.”

  Her legs dangling from the ship, Sara let out a satisfied sigh, watching as Joe, Jimmy, J’onn and her father – the elected responsible adults – began to plant the fireworks while Oliver and Diggle had designated themselves to work on the s’mores. The rest of them sat at the edge of the Waverider, enjoying the calm moment and night summer breeze. Sara looked up at the darkening sky, pushing back her hair out of her eyes as she looked for the first star of the night. Jax nudging her side and handing her a stick of melted marshmallows interrupted her observation, which she accepted with a smile. Jax returned the smile, widening it into a grin when his gaze caught something behind her shoulder. He shifted his s’mores into his other hand, using the other as a makeshift megaphone.

 “Captain off the bridge!”

 All heads swivelled at the call, the Waverider crew whistling and cheering when noticing the arrival of Rip. The latter rolled his eyes, stiffening a smile as he stared back at Jax, unimpressed, to which the younger man responded with a smirk. Letting out a sigh, he shrugged off his jacket and draped it over his arm before stuffing his hands in his pockets. Sara gave him a small wave when his gaze fell onto her, green eyes met blue. Had she been staring for that long, she thought to herself before breaking the stare-off and focusing onto her swinging legs. From the corner of her eye; Sara could see him getting closer, only to be stopped by Jax handing him his own stick of melted marshmallows.

 “What the bloody hell is that?” Rip groaned and Sara didn’t have to look up at him to picture the disgusted frown plastered on his face.

 “S’mores, man,” Jax replied enthusiascally, undeterred by Rip’s disdain, “Come on, it’s better than it looks, I promise. You gotta live the full American 4th of July experience. Fun, remember?”

 Rip grumbled something that Sara couldn’t understand before snatching the stick of sugary good out of Jax’s hand, the latter proudly satisfied. It shouldn’t be surprising: Jax had something that got Rip to do everything the younger man wanted. To be honest, the youngest Legend got his way with everyone in the crew. Sara let a smile gracing her face before she turned her gaze back to the now starry sky. She didn’t tear her eyes away from it when Rip sat down next to her with a grunt, wearily eyeing the treat Jax had given him.

 “And how the hell I’m supposed to eat that?”

 “With your mouth and teeth,” Sara retorted, biting into her own as if to demonstrate.

 “Hardy-har-har,” Rip deadpanned, “You’re hilarious.”

 Sara met his blank stare and sent him a close-lipped smile, her cheeks puffed with marshmallows. Rolling his eyes at her, he took a tentative bite and let out a surprised, appreciative hum, the sound earning a chuckle from Sara. Swallowing the gooey substance in her mouth, she sucked on the marshmallow that had melted on her thumb.

 “So,” she started, shivering at a sudden strong gush of wind, “Still think that today was a bad idea?”

 “Oh yes,” Rip affirmed, his eyebrows up as he looked back at her.

 Skilfully balancing the stick between two fingers, he used his other hand to wrap his jacket over her shoulders. A small smile playing at the corner of her mouth, Sara kept quiet as he adjusted it around her smaller frame, pulling up the collar so it covered her neck.

 “But I’ll admit, it had its good moments. And surprises,” Rip added, his tone meaningful as he cocked an eyebrow at her.

 “So it was a good idea,” Sara insisted, chuckling at his persistence.

 “Here, let’s compromise: it was a pretty… good bad idea,” he said, smirking down at her.

 Sara’s nose wrinkled at the oxymora and cocked an eyebrow at him. Rip stared back at her and mimicked her expression, earning a snort and shake of head.

“Alright,” she sighed, stealing a – now – cold marshmallow off his stick, “It was a pretty good bad idea.”

 Rip’s smirk into a grin as he gave her an approving nod and nudged her shoulder with his. Sara returned the nudge with a smile of her own, adjusting the falling jacket onto her shoulders and burying her nose in the collar, her eyes locked into his. And if Rip’s green gaze darkened at the small gesture, no one remarked on it. They broke their stare off at the loud of fireworks being fired and loud cheers of their comrades, looking up at the explosion of colours lighting the dark sky. Throwing Rip a quick look, Sara couldn’t help the fond smile that appeared on her lips at his awed expression as he stared at the bright sparks. He looked so different, then. Unguarded. Unburdened. Happy. As she rested her head onto his shoulder, her gaze turned upward, Sara found herself hoping for more pretty good bad ideas in the future.