#this wasn’t nearly the pain in the ass helena’s was

[likewanderingstars]

@justxq

[tw: mentions of abuse]

She tried not to think about it but sometimes while she slept the memories leaked out and she remembered a time before all this. 

Helena wasn’t always as closed off as she was now. She’d always been reckless, she’d always been a weapon, but she wasn’t always so cold. She wonders if the echo of her last laugh rattles around his chest as it had been pressed against his lips. Maybe it was insignificant but she remembered it all and it was like sliding against knives. 

Twenty-four, a few months out of being twenty-five, and she finally puts him on his ass for the first time. She had worked relentlessly with him nearly every day but he was a mountain of a man so it wasn’t easy. When she finally managed it the look on his face was one that would stay with her. Awe and...desire. No one had ever looked at her like that, especially not someone she had admired and harboured secret affection for. 

The first time he kissed her she hadn’t been expecting it. His lips were soft and his hands gentle and Helena felt safe. It was reasonable for her to assume the man her father would choose for her was the man he’d forced her to train with nearly every day since she had come to Faerune. So she let him kiss her even though it was against the rules because it felt good and if they were going to be matched it was fine if they started a little early, right?

They had unlocked something within each other and soon time alone was precious. Helena craved every tiny moment of affection that Q so willingly gave. It felt good to be wanted by him. If this was her future she could forgive the pain she’d suffered since coming to Faerune. She could see it now, her father had a plan and it made sense. She’d needed to be strong if she was to be a good match for Q. 

For a time things were good. She didn’t act out because she’d managed to convince herself she believed it now. She was wanted, maybe even loved. Why should she fight her father when he was going to give her happiness. It wasn’t true though. The happiness she experienced was encased in a bubble of secrecy because part of her knew despite what she was telling herself, they weren’t suppose to want each other. Maybe that’s why she decided not to wait for her fathers decision. Maybe she wanted to share something with Q on her terms and not her fathers. 

Her mother use to tell her that she would know when she was ready to be with someone. That there wouldn’t be nervousness only excitement. She’d shown up at his home as planned, feeling like they would be safe away from the manor. Most of their time was stolen moments so this was one of those rare times when they didn’t have to think about how long they were together. 

If all had gone as it should have Helena would have completely given herself to him that night but the universe had decided long ago Helena wasn’t allowed happiness. Most people would be embarrassed to have their father walk in on them. For Helena it was terrifying. Caught up in the feeling of Q’s lips on her skin, lifting her hips as he reached for her panties, only to be ripped away. Quite literally. She remembered Q sitting up when the door opened, she didn’t even have time to react before she felt the cold grasp of her fathers magic around her, pulling her roughly from the bed and throwing her down onto the floor. 

Her ears rang as she tried to regain control of her body but she barely managed. Shaking arms pulling on Q’s shirt that he had thrown at her in the commotion. The strength of Aloysius Theriot was on display that day. Helena was yanked up onto her feet and forcibly walked out without her father even putting a hand on her. The idea of what Helena thought was going on started to shatter. Her father was furious at her. She couldn’t really make sense of what he was saying but a few words slipped through. Whore. Disgrace. Slut. 

He dealt with Q first. What happened she didn’t know but by the time her father walked into the basement where he put her it had been a couple of hours. Helena tried to brace herself for what was coming but she was never good at predicting what way he would hurt her next. She felt her airway start to close up before he’d even stepped down onto the same level as her. She fought against it knowing this particularly painful spell to be one her father liked to use when he wanted the truth from someone.

You’ve always been rebellious but this goes to far. You have my blood which means you have to be held to a certain standard.

I thought-

Did I say you could speak yet? He’s beneath you. I had plans for you. Plans you may have put in jeopardy. How dare you let him strip you of your purity? 

We didn’t-

No. No I suppose you didn’t. Not yet at least. But given I found him quite literally between your legs you don’t get to tell me what you did or didn’t do. Always a disappointment. 

She didn’t see Q for weeks after they were caught. Every day she worried more and more that her father had killed him but then he was suddenly back as if he’d never been away. By this point she had been introduced to the man who would be her husband but did it matter? She’d leave if he wanted her to. They could leave Faerune. She thought he’d be happy to see her. She expected the warm welcome she had become use to, a press of lips against her temple, her neck. She got nothing. He didn’t even look at her. And so the ring on her finger weighed heavily. A symbol of unity that reminded Helena she was completely alone. 

She would always be alone. 

[pettyprocrastination]

Panty & Bambi

Francisco “Catfish” Morales x Roller Derby!Reader

Summary: Helena Morales celebrates her 12th birthday at the roller rink, where she plays cupid for her kind father who’s attention has been captured by a confident skater that danced about the rink. 

Warnings: profanity, uhhh mention of alcohol?? Frankie being a fucking BOTTOM about buff thick women lmao. 

Word Count:2.9k

Perm Taglist: @honestlystop​

authors note:Wrote this because I’m sad about not being able to do derby this season and i’ve been watching lots of bouts to comfort myself in it lmao. Big inspiration to @qveenbvtch​ who wrote a fucking MAGICAL javi rollerskating fic called Ring My Bell!! It’s so fucking good read it here !!!!!! Big thank you to my boo @captainsamwlsn​ for reading this for me ILY Thais so fkin much <3

“For her next birthday could your daughter pick something that isn’t fucking murder on my knees?”

Frankie stared at his friend and god father to his now twelve year old daughter under the flashing fluorescent lights of the roller rink before taking a sip of the cheap beer in his hand. “Don’t whine Santi.” Frankie laughed.  “We both know you’d do anything for her.”

Which was true. 

Helena had only been a baby when the group went to Columbia to take down Lorea. They had always been a close-knit group of friends, but what happened on that trip, that shit-show of a mission, made them appreciate having each other even more. They visited Tom’s family when they were able to, the first few months after his death his ex-wife wouldn’t even let them on the front lawn. She took to screaming and cursing at them for his death, they didn’t tell her about the teenage boy that took her ex-husband’s life to avenge his brother. 

Tess did in fact get into Harvard. She sent Pope letters from time to time. She didn’t blame him or the others for her father’s death like her mother did. The boys couldn’t say the same for themselves. 

But the family they did have, the sweet chunky cheeked little infant girl Frankie was proud to call his daughter? Oh they all worshiped her. Little Helena had them all wrapped around her finger from the moment they set eyes on her. 

The men had been there for every tea party, fairy tale, and birthday. They watched her go from mashing cake into her mouth at one years old to laughing at a skate rink with her friends at twelve. 

Frankie had been there for everything and his boys were there to help him. 

He couldn’t say the same for Liana. 

“Twelve years brother.” Pope remarked. Frankie groaned and let his head fall forward. 

“You don’t have to tell me man. Where did it all go?” He looked out on the rink with a smile, watching his daughter skate with ease on the polished wood floors while Ben wobbled along next to her, looking more like a baby taking its first steps than a grown man. 

“It feels like just yesterday I was changing her diapers, now she’s in eighth grade.” Frankie sighed, released the vice like grip he had on the neck of his bottle. “Fuck man, I’m not ready for her to go to high school, I don’t know what I’ll do with myself.”

“You’ll do what you’ve always done for her, ‘Fish.” Frankie looked up to see Will standing at his side, setting a comforting hand on his shoulder. “You’ll be there for her. Which is more than I can say about half of the dead beat dads out there now.”

“Dad!” She called out, her pigtails swaying as she turned to him, hands held out with a big grin. “Come on!”

Frankie ignored the pop of his knees as he stood up with a groan. 

“I’ll pray for your back hermano!” Santi called out with a barking laugh as his friend slowly stepped onto the rink with shaking legs

Frankie couldn’t give his little girl the world no matter how much he wanted to, he was just one man. But damn if he wouldn’t skate with her at her birthday party. 

Helena took his hand in hers as they skated, which he knew was more for his safety than hers. But he still felt his heart clench at seeing just how small his daughter’s hand was compared to his.

“How are you so bad at this!” She giggled upon seeing his knees buckle for the third time in two minutes. While Helena had taken to roller skates with ease, the same could not be said for her father, who clutched onto her hand like a lifeline. 

“Mija, the last time I was on wheels like this was before I broke my ankle skateboarding.” A woman skated by them, the wheels on her skated lighting up a bright pink each time they made contact with the floor. You turned, skating backwards for a moment with a carefree smile before turning forward again. 

Frankie’s knees buckled when Helena’s hip bumped against his.

“God-” His daughter snorted. “Maybe if you stopped staring at that lady and focused more on skating you wouldn’t be wobbling like an old man on a walker!”

His head snapped to his daughter like a whip, for a moment uncaring how he nearly lost his balance. “I am not-I wasn’t-did you just call me an old man?”

His daughter simply stared up at him with that smug little grin that he swore Santi taught her. 

“She’s pretty.” His daughter noted, he spared another glance up, feet sliding across the floor as he did. 

You skated around another couple, hips swaying to the song playing over the speaker and hands raised high over your head. You brought one foot in front of the other in a sashay along the rink, gliding over the floor with grace that Frankie couldn’t even try to get as he gripped his daughter’s hand for dear life while they skated along the inner rim of the rink. 

His daughter tugged at his hand, which had gotten arguably more sweaty when he realized that you would be passing them once more. “You should say hi.”

Frankie shook his head and offered his daughter a smile. “It’s your birthday ‘lena.” He reminded her. “You should be having fun with your friends instead of worrying about your old man’s dating life.”

Helena tilted her head in thought before smiling and letting go of her father’s hand. “Okay!”

“Wait-wait!” Frankie shot his hands out to balance himself, without the help of his daughter he felt even more off-kilter and out of his element. “Where are you going!?”

His daughter laughed before joining her friends that had skated ahead of them. “You told me to have fun with my friends! So I’m going to!” She looked behind him and smiled so wide he felt his heart drop. “Have fun dad! You got this!”

“Helena Maria Morales if you don’t-” Frankie’s threat was cut off when his legs wobbled against, one foot shooting out to steady him, except he was on fucking roller skates, which only caused his foot to slide out from beneath him and send him tumbling onto the hard floor beneath him. 

Had it not been for his skating savior that is. 

You shot forward, one hand gripping the collar of his shirt meanwhile the other grabbed the waistband of his trousers to steady him. On instinct his hands gripped your hips like you were a life preserver and he was a man lost at sea. 

“You alright there buddy?” Frankie simply stared at you, throat tight and mouth wide open as his bright wracked for a single thought, a single word to say to you. 

“Jesus Christ.” Santi groaned from the other side of the rink. He and the other boys sat watching in equal parts awe and dismay at their friend being caught like damsel and then absolutely flounder in front of you. “Say something you idiot!”

“Oh this is painful.” Ben snorted. “I don’t want to look away!”

“I’m uh, yeah I’m good.” Frankie realized as you pulled him upright how fucking strong you were, and it made his knees knock together for a whole different reason. His hands tensed and he realized he was still holding onto your hips. “Oh fuck, I’m so sorry I didn’t mean to-”

“It’s fine, really.” You held up a hand to silence him, his mouth snapped shut as if it were a trained command. “I know you aren’t some creep trying to cop a feel, I’ve been watching you skate for a while now.”

Frankie looked down at the floor. “Yeah well, the last time I was on wheels was when I was sixteen and tried to impress a girl at the mall by grinding on a rail with my skateboard.”

You slowly took his hand in yours and began to skate forward, slow smooth steps that he did his best to mimic. He was so focused on not falling he hadn’t realized that the pair of you were skating like a couple. “Did it work?”

“Fuck no!” He laughed. “I broke my ankle, lost a tooth, then she and her friends all laughed at me.”

You smiled at his story, noting the way the multi-colored lights bounced off his profile. “Well, I’ll do my best to make sure you don’t break an ankle or lose any teeth tonight, alright Bambi?”

Frankie’s feet wobbled again and tightened his grip on your hands, marveled for a moment at how soft they felt against his. “Bambi?”

“Yeah.” You offered him a slight shrug, he still wasn’t sure how you could skate around others with such ease while also maintaining a conversation, but was thankful for it either way. “You both have brown hair, both have shit balance-”

“Gee thanks.”

You giggled and flicked the tip of his cap. “Let me finish.” You scolded. “You both have shit balance, and you're both pretty fuckin’ cute.”

Frankie felt his heart race and his lips curl into a shy smile. He watched the colors that danced over your form like a kaleidoscope. “Well my actual name is Frankie-” The tip of his skate dipped forward, catching on the floor and sending him careening right into your arms. You kept your feet together at an angle to keep from falling, hands grabbing onto him as he barreled forward, arms thrown around you and nose pressed against yours. “-but I guess Bambi is pretty fitting too.”

“Well Bambi-” Frankie felt a tingle down his spine every time you called him that. A nickname so sweet and innocent had no business making him feel so hot under the collar. “How about we take a break from trying to keep you from falling flat on your ass and go sit down for a bit? If your daughter doesn’t mind that is.”

He looked over your shoulder, where Helena stood with two of her friends, smiling wide and flashing her dad two thumbs up. 

“I don’t think she'll mind.”

```

“A pilot?” You whistled, leaning back in his chair. “Damn, you’ve got me beat. I’m just a high school English teacher!”

Frankie shook his head, toe tapping on the linoleum floor of the little snack corner of the rink that pair of you were sitting at. “Now I wouldn’t say all that. I mean, spending your entire day dealing with teenagers who definitely don’t want to be there? You must have the patience of a saint.”

You bumped your knee against his. “We’ll now you’re just trying to flatter me.”

Frankie held one hand up and the other over his heart, as if he were taking an oath. “All truth here, coming from a former AP English kid.” You gasped and held one hand over your chest and pretended to swoon. 

“An honor student of my subject? Be still my beating heart!” Frankie snorted into his drink, which caused you to in turn laugh loud enough for the people in front of them to turn and glare. 

He had always hated dating. It felt so forced, so uncomfortable. The icebreakers were only met with bland replies of women who clearly weren’t interested in him, and only became less interested when they learned he was a father. That or they would praise him for being so “brave” to raise his daughter on his own. What, as if he was supposed to walk out on her just like her mother did? It turned him off to the whole situation. 

But this? Sitting in the tiny snack corner at a roller rink, sipping overpriced sodas and laughing loud enough to annoy people while staring at the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen? Oh it was better than any date at a four star restaurant he’s been on. 

“Trust me.” He told you. “You would’ve hated me as a student.”

“I could never!”

“Oh yes you could!” He laughed. “I fell asleep in class all the time, never answered questions and uh honestly?” He pulled his hat low over his face with a shy smile. “If I had you as a teacher? I’d never get anything done.”

His eyes flicked to the sleeve of your shirt, seeing your biceps strain against it as you leaned over for your drink. The shorts you wore hugged the thick muscle of your legs and he felt his throat tighten up at the thought. 

You smiled and pushed his cap up so you could see his brown doe eyes. “I’m gonna take that as a compliment, Bambi.”

 Santi watched the pair of you, nearly nose to nose when you leaned in close to toy with his hat. He smiled and bumped Will’s shoulder. “Look at ‘em go. ‘Fish still has it.”

“That’s our boy.”

They had all gotten the call when Liana left, she had simply packed her bags in the middle of the night and vanished. Leaving Francisco and their six month old baby alone. They knew how much it hurt him to see her leave, how much he blamed himself and wracked his brain for how to fix it, how many times he called her and pleaded for her to come home. If not for him, for their daughter. Their little baby girl who wouldn’t stop crying because she was hungry and mommy was gone. 

But to see him now, blushing like a school boy while talking with a woman who his daughter practically pushed him into, they all felt a swell of pride. 

If any of them deserved a happy ending, it was Catfish. 

“If he doesn’t ask her out-” Ben sighed. “I’ll kill him. Just fucking murder him.”

Sadly, just as Frankie was about to ask that dreaded question, if he could get your number or hell, if you’d like to get a drink sometime, a woman with bright pink hair poked her head over your table. 

“Hey panty!” She called out and Frankie damn near got whiplash at that nickname. “Can you give me a ride home? My car is busted and my boyfriend can’t pick me up.”

Your shoulders deflated at her response and Frankie couldn’t help but feel a little prideful that you felt dejected to leave his side. “Yeah no problem Jammie.”

“Thanks!” The girl chirped. “I’ll meet you outside!”

When she left, Frankie turned to you with a slow smile, his eyebrows shot up to his hairline. “Panty?”

“Ughh I know!” You groaned into your hands. “It’s not some weird nickname or anything it’s just my derby name I swear!”

Frank leaned back, eyes wide in admiration. “You play roller derby?”

You grinned, shoulders back and confidence oozing off of you at the mention of your sport. You tucked your hands behind your head and Frankie took that moment to marvel at the muscle that strained against your shirt. “Damn right I do. Not to brag but I’ve been the MVP for the last three seasons.”

It was absolutely a brag and he loved it. 

“You know-” Your eyes flicked to his, shy and skittish. “-we have a bout, a game, this Saturday if you want to come. It’ll be here, at eight. You don’t have to-”

“I’ll be there.” He promised. The thought of you in those spandex shorts on skates, being positively brutal to other women on the track with that confident grin? Christ, he wouldn’t miss it for the world. “I’ve never watched roller derby before but, it’s recently piqued my interest.”

You smiled, raising your foot to knock it against his. “Well I hope it keeps you interested Frankie, because you’ve piqued mine too.”

Frankie felt a swell of pride in his chest at your shy smile and sweet words. He felt like a kid back in high school, trying his best to woo the girl in his biology class with passing notes in hopes of getting a date. 

Only this time he had more experience and a lot less acne. 

“Panty!” The woman shouted. “Lets gooo! I work the morning shift tomorrow!”

Your face fell. “Looks like that’s my que to head out. I’ll see you Friday though?”

“Fuck yes.” Frankie breathed out, before regaining his composure. “I mean uh yeah, yeah I’ll uh, see if I can make it.” You laughed and stood up from the table, turning on your heel at the final moment to press a quick kiss to his cheek. 

“I’ll see you then, Bambi.” You purred, before walking out of the door and past His daughter and three grown ass men, who stood in a circle nearby like a bunch of gossiping old women.

Frankie didn’t even have a moment to realize you kissed him before his daughter bounded over to him asking eighty questions within two seconds.

“What's her name? Is she cool? She seems cool! Are you guys dating now? Did you ask her out? Did you get her number?”

He brought this daughter in for a hug, bringing his hand down on the crown of her head in a playful nuzzle. 

“Alright speedy gonzales.” She laughed into his side and tried to wriggle out of his bear hug. “No more matchmaking, you hear me?”

“But it worked! Didn’t it?” His stern facade melted away at the excited grin on Helena’s face.He sighed, letting his chin fall onto the top of her head. 

“We’ll just have to wait and see mija.”

His daughter whooped in victory, throwing her hands high in the air in celebration. 

“That means it worked!”

[cinebration]

Choose Where (Victor Zsasz x Reader) [Part 11]

THE END. Thank you all so much for sticking around!

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 

Tagged: @im-just-one-of-the-avengers, @strangeaddiction1306, @vaaalexandra​, @marvelenthusiast10​, @thefandomqueen2882​, @33rie33​, @cassiopeia-barrow​

Warnings: cutting, mutilation, blood

Image Source: directedbysnyder

The club was empty when you returned the following day. No note. You didn’t ask around to find out where Zsasz had gone. You merely threw yourself into the work.

As the only person left in charge of Roman’s operation, courtesy of the CFO paperwork you had filed months before, you took over.

The first thing you did was tear down the torture wallpaper with your bare hands.

For the next few months, you ripped out every piece of art in the place but for the big black hands and eyes framing the stage. You bought new furniture, replacing the tables and stools. The booths you reupholstered in maroon. You changed the lighting, keeping it warm but no longer seductive and red. You tore down the walls and replaced them with mahogany wood.

You went so far as to get rid of every single bottle of liquor in the place, ordering replacements for later.

Once in a while, when you were alone and everything was quiet, you swore you could feel fingertips ghosting over your scars, could hear Zsasz’s laughter down the halls. It took all of your effort and daily exhaustion to avoid thinking about him. All you knew was that Harley and the Birds of Prey were still alive.

The day before the grand reopening of the club, Dinah walked through the door.

You nearly leapt out of your skin. Smiling weakly, you waved her over to where you were sitting at the bar going over the bar food menu for the sixth time. “Drink?”

Dinah shook her head. “I’m not staying. I wanted to check it out.” She looked around the room. “It looks different.”

“That was the point.”

“Better, for sure.”

“I wanted to go for a speakeasy vibe. I even hired a jazz band,” you said. Eyeing her warily, you asked, “What’s new with you?”

You had never seen her so happy, so relaxed. She sat down on a stool beside you. “You’re some sort of money whiz, right?”

You arched an eyebrow. “Sort of.”

“I was hoping you could help me out. My friend can’t access her money. It got frozen in her accounts.”

“Ah.” You tapped the menu with your pen. “Your friend wouldn’t be Helena Bertinelli, would it?”

Dinah drew back. “How did you know that?”

“I’m a money whiz. The Bertinelli fortune is impossible not to hear about.”

“Can you do anything about it?”

You stared into her imploring eyes. “My relationship with Wayne Industries prevents me from helping out a vigilante group,” you said carefully. “I need them to protect me.”

“From what?”

“You don’t think other assholes want Roman’s empire?”

Dinah frowned. “We can protect you.”

“I need the Wayne Industries investments to keep this place open. But…I can tell you that you and your friends can get the money back if you find the banker who froze them.” You looked at her sideways. “I’m sure all he’ll need is a little persuasion. Of the ass-kicking variety.”

Dinah smiled. “We’re good at that.”

“I can get you the name. But that’s it.”

“Thank you.” Dinah glanced at you. “Are you sure you don’t want to join us? Get out of this place?”

You laughed. “I kick numbers and stock markets and investors, not ass.”

“Helena’s fortune is a lot of money to manage.”

“Thanks, but no.”

Sighing, Dinah stood and glanced around the room once more. “How can you stand it here?”

You spun in the stool, surveying the wood-paneled space. “I remade it on my terms.”

“Why did you keep the name? And those,” she said, gesturing to the sculpture on the stage.

“I figured it was the perfect ‘fuck you’ to Sionis.”

Dinah laughed, her voice swelling to fill the space. She left, the laughter trailing after her.

The next night, the grand reopening went spectacularly. The speakeasy vibe drew a different crowd. The jazz band filled the air with soothing rhythms. No man threw a tantrum and made women dance against their wills atop tables.

At 2am, closing time, you sat up in the office by yourself, hyper aware of your solitude. As though moving through water, you closed up the bar and returned to your shitty apartment, feeling hollow and hating every second of it.

Scar greeted you at the door. Sweeping him up in your arms, you threw yourself onto the couch and cradled him, hoping his purring would soothe you.

Two quiet knocks sounded on your door. With a sigh, you dragged yourself off the couch.

“Mrs. Robinson,” you called, opening the door, “I don’t have—”

You couldn’t breathe.

Zsasz looked the same as he had the last time you had seen him. Nearly. The rage and hurt were gone, his dark eyes cautious. You stepped aside, expecting him to storm through the door as was his way.

He walked past you slowly, hesitant. When the door shut, he turned and said, “You changed the club.”

You felt yourself deflate. Of course. It always came back to Roman. “Look—”

“It looks better.”

You blinked. “Thanks…” Determined to hurt yourself, you added, “Sionis would’ve hated it.”

“Not if you convinced him it was his idea.”

You wanted to laugh, but the sound died in your throat.

Scar nosed at Zsasz’s shoes, trying to place his scent. Zsasz crouched down to run a hand over his fur. “Hey, little guy. He’s so big now.”

“Yeah.”

You wanted to ask him where the hell he’d been, but you kept your mouth shut. He’d leave soon enough, you told yourself.

“Why are you still living here?” Unlike the previous times he’d asked, the question wasn’t vehement or judgmental. If anything, his voice sounded…sad.

“Look,” you said, fighting the pain growing inside you, “just say or do whatever you came here for.”

Zsasz straightened slowly. Adam’s apple bobbing, he opened his mouth to speak, hesitated. He rubbed the back of his neck, patted his hair as he struggled to find the words. Your heart strained in your chest, stomach twisting as the silence stretched.

“I had to bury Roman,” he finally said. “He was…”

“You loved him,” you said quietly. “And he loved you, in his own selfish, twisted way.”

He nodded. “One day, I will get my revenge,” he said, the words coming out slowly. He met your eyes. “But not today.”

It was a start. “I can accept that.”

Relief washed over his features before another expression overshadowed it, his gaze intense. “Good.”

He seized your face in his hands and pressed his lips to yours.

It was as though a dam within you burst. All the hurt and the worry and the frustration he caused you flooded forward, pouring itself through your lips. You wanted to hurt him and hold him and save him and be the reason for his destruction.

“I know,” he murmured against your lips, breaking away for a second. “I know.”

Backing you up against the door, he kissed you with ravenous desperation, a starved man aching to consume you. You couldn’t think past the heat of him, the taste of his mouth, the strength of his tongue. He lifted you up, wrapping your legs around his hips, his body melding to yours.

You gasped for air, lips bruised from the intensity of the kiss. He dragged his mouth down your neck to your collarbone, lathed his tongue over the scar there. Your head tipped back against the door.

“You’re getting a new apartment,” he grunted. “No argument.”

“Fine,” you answered before reclaiming his lips. Growling, he pivoted away from the door, seeking the bedroom. A few strides and you both were on the bed, his body firmly seated between your legs. Your hands skated over his belt and tugged his shirt free of his pants, searching for skin. God, did he burn.

Tugging upward, you broke the kiss to let him yank the shirt off. Your hands slid to his belt.

“Wait.”

“Don’t tell me to wait,” you hissed. “I’ve been waiting.”

Staring into your eyes, he withdrew the knife from his pocket. For a moment, you felt a tinge of panic spike through you, but it passed as quickly as it had arrived.

“Choose where,” he whispered.

“What for?”

“On me,” he said. “So I don’t forget.”

Stunned, you let your gaze drop to his chest. Your hand traced the map of scars there, feeling each ridge. Just over his heart was a wide open space of unblemished skin. You tapped your finger there.

He rolled, taking you with him. Straddled on his hips, you looked down at his reverent expression. Taking the knife, you pressed the blade against the spot you had chosen, ghosting it over his flesh. He shivered, breath hitching in his throat. His hips bucked up against yours out of reflex.

“An X,” he said, breathless.

“Why?”

“One for each of yours.”

Heart stuttering, you set the knife against his skin, cutting deep. He tensed beneath you, grunting. His hands tightened on your hips as you made the second slash across the first. He sat up, blood running down his chest, and kissed your collarbone scar and your forehead one before staring into your face, a hand cradling your cheek.

“I know who you are now,” he said.

It took you a moment to realize he was referring to the first time you had met. “Oh yeah?”

He nodded, nose brushing yours.

“Well, tell me,” you said.

“My new god,” he breathed against your lips.

You shoved him back onto the mattress. “Don’t you forget it.”

He grinned.

[zorilleerrant]

of course Jason is Dick’s favorite sibling, like

Babs: his partner and equal, can trust her to watch her own back

Helena: kind of jealous she can kick his ass, mostly competitive

Tim: showed up yelling at Dick over how to live his life, Dick tried to parent him and he was having none of it, blames Dick for a bunch of things

Steph: has already stolen the siblings she wants. has no particular interest in having anything to do with Dick

Cass: never needed a protector, needed a different kind of mentor than Dick was used to being, likes Tim and Steph better

Duke: some guy he knows. like they get along great but it’s really just essentially hanging out with a buddy

Damian: his son. he would do anything for Damian over anyone else in the world, but it’s too painful to be siblings again

but Jason... Jason was his brother, and Dick didn’t want to know him. Jason was his successor, and Dick hated him. Jason died, and Dick wasn’t there to save him. Jason needed vengeance and it nearly broke Dick. Jason came back and Dick got in his way. Dick blames himself for not being there, for driving Jason away, for being a wedge in between Jason and Bruce. Jason is the one person in his family where Dick can see his chances slipping through his fingers one by one, and there’s nothing he wouldn’t give to clutch onto them.

[ruwithmeguys]

You’ve got to accentuate the positive...

It really doesn’t take much for people to say a TV show has gone stale. Or, that a season is bad because of an episode arc. And something I won’t do is judge what I already love on the basis of a few spoilers or a few episodes (or episode arc). I’m used to it by now to be 100% affected by the ugh of it all...

By 6.11 of Arrow, I wasn’t alone in hailing s6 as the best season of arrow. It has everything in it: Oliver’s growth. Olicity getting married. Starting a family (this coming from the man who used to think he’d die alone). Diggle getting some focus once again (though I question why he wants to be GA, because in every prior season, he hasn’t even mentioned it). Felicity being so clearly strong willed (especially in 6.03/04/07/08/09/10/11) and effortlessly brilliant. The new team progressing in their own way…

Whether it’s a way we like or not.

A lot of people have complained about the villains this season too. I’m good with it. We don’t need to have a horribly terrifying villain every season. We don’t need another Adrian Chase or Malcolm Merlyn. I liked and still like the idea of a group of semi-capable villains, regardless of whether or not the actor/actress is someone we/I can back, because I don’t think we’ve gotten to the bottom of it yet.

What I’m puzzled by the most however, is the reaction to the current arc; the way people are getting lost and angry and frantic by it.

Don’t you know Arrow by now?

Perspective:

(S1, a season of introduction, isn’t one we can use to discuss this so- nope!)

S2: there was a solid stream of episodes, all focusing on or around Sara Lance, Laurel and Quentin. Sara and her attempt to change so that she could exist in Oliver’s world. Sara’s attempt to fight off her own darkness and failing to do so, arguing about it with Oliver over and over again because of Roy, Slade and Helena. Sara and Laurel’s relationship. Sara and Oliver and Laurel’s history. Laurel realizing her bitterness was hurting her sister. Oliver letting go of any feelings he had for Laurel after his final attempt at caring, once again, ended up hurting him. Laurel and Quentin’s fight against their addictions – it went on and on and on until I thought my interest had gone dry...

S3: the 4 mind-numbing episode arc about LL becoming BC before uselessly being abandoned for another 5 episodes and the team’s morose attempt at fighting the good fight without their leader. Oliver thinking he can’t live, thinking he can’t have it all – that to trust his team, meant inviting darkness. And an extra 2 episodes where we had to watch Oliver make more bad choices and Felicity start a relationship with Ray, 3.10 to 3.15. That’s 6 episodes of UGH.

S4: Less episode arcs and more a general feeling. Oliver was put in the backseat in order to sell LL and Thea as members of the team. I know you all love Thea, but to me, she didn’t quite fit the team. The way her character progressed made this feeling worse. Then we had Oliver lying to the love of his life for 8 episodes. So, yeah. BAD.

S5: love it or hate it, season 5 had several stand alone episodes that made you nauseous. 5.13, 14, 15 were particularly crappy.

Any of you who thought they’d change this pattern for the sixth season, were fooling yourselves, I’m sorry to say. But S6, I think, has been one of the kinder seasons.

There’s no bad Olicity angst (the 6.08 angst was delicious). There’s no ridiculous attempt at selling a character to us. There’s no ‘I’m Oliver Queen which means I can’t have a life’ crapola…

The way the team split was handled has left much to be desired, I know that. It really has. I admit that I can’t love the new guys like I do OTA, but I did like them. Now I can’t stand them. They took every bad habit Oliver has EVER possessed, thrown them in his face and then utilized them x10 and made excuses for their behaviour… and then blamed Oliver once more.

But even with the crappy attitudes of the newbies and their horrifying lack of morality recently, each episode this season has been pretty on the ball.

I also know a lot of us don’t like BS.

In portraying LL or BS, KC seems to have a problem with grabbing the majority audience’s sympathy. Her villain role this year has been decidedly camp and over the top and, once again, her character is rooted in selfishness. No surprises there. And now, well, she’s using (going to use) LL’s identity to get what she wants. I hope Quentin is happy: he gave her the tools for this.

Anyone who wasn’t expecting this or for her to be in 6.15 a whole lot, were not paying attention.

She’s going to use the excuse of being kidnapped for a couple of years and assume LL’s identity. This is not the action of someone who wants redemption. This is the action of a mole. I always thought she’d try to play one side against the other for her own gain and I bet that she does.

She’ll also use her knowledge of the team as leverage: blackmailing Oliver and co so that they can’t prosecute her because she knows so much and, really, they can’t imprison her unless they want to unfairly blemish LL’s reputation, because she isn’t LL.

Happily, Oliver made it very clear that he a) doesn’t care about saving her, he’s looking after the city and b) pretty much doesn’t want to see her again. Everything else he did in 6.14 was rooted in his respect for Quentin. I know Quentin has officially flown over the cuckoo’s nest but after years of friendship etc, Oliver owes it to him. Even if he knows it’s not right. He’ll do it, just this once.

Saying it the way he did too, to never wanting to hear her name or see her face again… it’s like not expecting a child to do the exact opposite of what they’re told. Of course the writers would have her push back.

You know, she could have gone with Quentin. Instead, she’s decided to immerse herself in another woman’s life. When you’re looking for redemption, that’s kind of the last thing you do. She wants something. And she’s going to take it.

And you know what? This could be really good.

They’ve slanted away from a true redemption arc. It doesn’t mean she won’t end up there. But the likelihood of it being about true goodness is pouring away, fast. And it’s going to bite all of them on the ass.

You know, I state the obvious, if it was any other character/actress, we wouldn’t be having the same problem with this SL.

I don’t like LL/BS or KC. I have my reasons, which I won’t force on anyone and I know that if this were a different character/actress/actor, the ‘god, this again’ I’d feel and the outrage everyone else has displayed, wouldn’t be nearly so high.

This isn’t a plot-line to make people happy. It’s designed to both satisfy a trope (for her stans) and not repeat a character (for us, because enough with boring and predicable please) and to make us all freak out and get angry. We’ll be waiting for something to go wrong. They want us on tender hooks and you know what? It’s working.

The amount of hype the people who hate this arc have produced is more than the hype created by those who like it.

There’s goodness coming. There is.

But every year, a chunk of the fandom family start hating on the show with nearly the exact arguments as the years previous. I get it. I do.

But, you know what else happens every year? The slingshot.

Would I like Felicity and Oliver to hog the screen time, I sure would. It took years to get them married. Show us more for god sake! 

But it isn’t realistic. The show has more than one character and the design of it, though flawed, is one they haven’t changed. There are filler episodes and other things. We knew – we KNEW – that 6b (6.10 – 6.14/15) would have little to no Olicity (save some amazing moments, especially in 6.11) and yet there’s still surprise at this. 

We knew, after watching 6.12 that the newbies were wrong and would continue to be so. We knew that the BS arc would be a royal pain in the ass, but this latest twist is going to test the characters and maybe that’s a good thing.

First thing’s first though. Every single season, Felicity’s story goes like this:

We have a group of episodes surrounding her. Then she comes out of the main focus but is still very much part of the plot. She has brilliant moments that make the show great. Then, like a slingshot, roughly during episodes 16/17/18, she pops back into focus for the rest of the season.

Let’s look at past seasons again.

S2: between episode 1 and 5, she’s very much relevant but not the focus and then for 6 to 10, she was very focal. With Sara’s introduction and Roy’s, she’s secondary until roughly 2.19 up till the finale.

S3: episodes 1 and 2, she’s focal. 3 and 4 she’s not. 5, 7 and 9, she’s focal. 6, 8, she’s not. Then the BC arc and episode 14. Then slingshot round again.

I do think season 3 gave Felicity the most SL isn’t given ANY of the female characters in Arrow. Now, there are too many characters for this to work.

Still, it repeats, it repeats, it repeats. Same with season 4, same with season 5.

Would I like more married Olicity, HECK YES. But – and the way they’ve done it is more than a little skewed – they’re trying to make it look like Olicity are currently waylaid by all the drama. They literally don’t have enough time to be together. They’ve gone back to saving the city full time; just like in season 2 and 3 where they had to somehow handle saving the city alone with living their lives. Both Oliver and Felicity were unable to do so alone, from what I remember. Now we know there could be more scenes. They could give us a few moments at least (beyond the few brillo-pads ones we’ve had). But those scenes were sold to Rene and Curtis. Thankfully, there’ll be less of them in 6.15/17 etc.

As much as I don’t like it, we’ll get back to it.

And as much as I’d like to see more of Felicity’s SL, I’m going to leave any and all judgement on the lack of it since 6.07, until the end of the season. Safe to say, it’s been taken over by her break with Curtis. He did the unforgivable. She gave up her money to save Oliver. I believe we’ll get more, but there’s just too much going on.

Would I prefer to see that over the badly handled civil war crap? Yes. Of course I would. Would I prefer to see more married Olicity, more Felicity and Diggle over this BS bull? Yes, I would. But they got MARRIED. The show literally told the audience they were each other’s true loves and destined to be together. The writers actually allowed Oliver to get married. It means they probably think they can afford a few episodes of not giving us much in that department but again, it depends why you watch the show.

I’m also hoping the writers showed the B team to be assholes because they’ve got lessons to learn and forgiveness to earn, I really hope for that.

They’ve mentioned a honeymoon. The show only does that when they plan to deliver, whether it’s this season or the next. Either of them could end up in jail. If fan theory is correct, Oliver gets poisoned/drugged in 6.18, leaving her alone in 6.19.

My point is that, the show isn’t going stale just because of an arc that’s been handled in such a way. Or because of a character that we literally don’t care lives or dies. Or turns into a goat. Whatever.

It’s going to be fine…

In re to BS – Stephen, Emily, Juliana and KC mentioned things about her. KC’s words haven’t been accurate save for aforementioned extreme contention between BS and DD.

The only thing Stephen said about it was that it would be interesting if LL was actually walking around in the daylight the past couple of years. He said it was an interesting take. That was it. And I agree. I don’t like her, but I agree.

Emily mentioned there might still be a thing between Felicity and BS (another possible fight) and really, if BS pretending to be LL culminates in her facing off with Felicity then bring it on because my god, it’s a death wish waiting to happen! I’ll get the popcorn!

I was done with LL./BS/KC long ago but I’m choosing to see the little goodies in the crap because I love the show, even with its faults. It hasn’t gone stale guys. The newbies are idiots but they never used to be, so I’m waiting for the penny to drop for them. Let’s just ride it out, kay?

This season has given us so much, even if it hasn’t delivered on other things we’re waiting for, so I’ve decided to accentuate the positive. If a show pushes it, then they’ve earned the scorn. Arrow hasn’t pushed this season as far they’ve done in previous additions and we get the added luxury of Olicity being a pillar.

For now, I’m good.

[shifuaang]

Thoughts on Season 5 of Orphan Black

Now that I’ve had a chance to watch season 5 and reflect on it, I wanted to share my thoughts. I’m still in mourning the loss of such a brilliant show, but I am also so happy that I got to share such an amazing viewing experience with the rest of the Clone Club. 

Thoughts under the cut! Sectioned by things I loved, things I didn’t like, and overall thoughts.

Things I loved: 

The happy ending. God, I am so tired of shows that don’t allow characters to survive and thrive at the end of their on-screen arcs. Game of Thrones started this whole ‘no one is safe’ trend, and I absolutely loathe it. There needs to be some semblance of hope at the end of a series, and OB gave us that and much more without compromising the integrity of the show. All of the characters still held trauma and the weight of responsibilities, but after fighting tooth and nail for their freedom for five seasons, they deserved happiness. (Also want to praise the show for actually highlighting PTSD and trauma and not glossing over it.)

The elimination of the Castor Clones. Honestly, good riddance. The only one I feel deserved better was Ira, but at least he made a difference in the end and did what he could to help the Ledas. Mark was a traitorous, selfish bastard, and although his death scene was sad, I can’t say I was upset to see him go.

Rachel’s arc. I loved everything about this. I loved seeing her backstory and watching her be truly vulnerable for the first time. The episode that revolved around her was one of the best of the season. Her unwillingness to participate in the organization that ruined her life and seeing herself in Kira was a beautiful turn for the character. 

The exposure of DYAD. This was one of the most powerful moments in the entire series. Seeing Cosima break down into tears of relief made me cry as well. It was everything they had been working towards and the impact of this revelation was colossal. 

The sisterhood and their unwavering love for each other. Including Mrs. S. The flashbacks with Sarah giving birth alongside Helena’s scene moved me to tears. I loved that womanhood was at the center of this season and that motherhood, while not a choice for everyone (Cosmia!), was portrayed in such a realistic, flesh and blood, pain and relief, light. The joy that radiated from Sarah and Helena during that scene blew me away; Tatiana is amazing. The scene in the final episode with them gathered around the campfire was also fantastic - these women with completely different backgrounds and personalities all came together because of a shared experience and were learning to heal together.

A few other notes. Sarah’s struggle with connection. Kira finally having her own agency and making her own decisions. Felix’s art show. Alison’s episode. ALISON MOTHAFUCKIN’ HENDRIX CONFRONTING RACHEL WITH LEEKI’S HEAD. Mrs. S taking down Ferdinand. Scott and Art being a part of the family. Donnie and Alison. Tatiana speaking different languages. Helena’s memoirs. A galaxy of women. 

Things I didn’t like: 

Krystal as comic relief. I know much of her character revolves around comedy, but it felt really cheap to only put her in one episode for laughs with the creators knowing how much us fans love her. I wanted to see her really become apart of the sisterhood, even if it wasn’t in an unconventional way. I know I’m a little biased as I’m a Krystal/Scott shipper, but I would have liked to see a relationship between them instead of bringing in a random friend to be his half-assed loved interest.

The way MK died. This was extremely upsetting. The rapey vibes and having her murdered in such a callous way on screen was too much. I understand she didn’t have much time to live and that she wanted to be a decoy to help her sisters, but her demise did not have to be nearly as graphic. This is a show that is meant to uplift and empower women, and MK’s death was a complete 180 from these ideals.

Gracie dying. GRACIE DIDN’T NEED TO DIE. Once again, it felt very cheap to bring her back for two episodes only to kill her. She was a part of Helena’s family and truly loved Helena. How cool would it have been to see Gracie defy Mark to do the right thing and live? A lot of people complained about Mrs. S’s death, but I felt it was justifiable and impactful. Gracie’s death was cruel and served no purpose in the long run.

Mutant experiment dude. I don’t even remember his name because that’s how much he made an impression on me. We didn’t need another villain. As much as I love OB, I have to admit that it doesn’t do a very good job in working with what it has instead of adding a million other pieces to the puzzle that don’t fit very well. Virginia, Susan, and PT could have been tied together in a different way or mutant experiment dude could have died off-screen prior to the events of the series. Sometimes I felt like OB was trying to be too sci-fi and add elements that fit the genre, but it ended up just cheapening the experience for me. 

PT Westmoreland was too dramatic. There are a lot of great, subtle villains in OB (Rachel, Susan, Helena in the first season, even Virginia at times), but PT was a caricature. His acting felt super melodramatic in a cast of actors who are nuanced and very good at controlling expression and emotion. This was one of the problems I had with the majority of the Castor clones - Ari Millen felt like he was overcompensating to try and keep with Tatiana’s prowess, and it happened again this season with Stephen McHattie.

Cosima is more than her relationship with Delphine. I know I might get shit for this, but I’m just going to say it anyway. I was never sold on the Cophine relationship, and I think that was because much of Cosmia’s personality revolved around loving Delphine. All of the other integral clones got flashbacks into their pasts that revealed more about their personalities and motives, and Cosima just got a bonus scene with Delphine from season one. I really did enjoy the defy them speech, but I wanted more. Cosima deserved more. 

A few other notes. Not enough Alison; she’s always in the background. Alison’s wackadoodle new haircut - at least buy a better wig. Not enough Felix. They were on the island waaay too long; the first half of the season dragged because of it, and the second half was significantly better. 

Overall Thoughts

I am really happy with the way OB went out. I am a particularly critical viewer when it comes to any show, and oftentimes I will drop a show if it’s headed in a direction I don’t like or if characterization is contrived. While I haven’t loved every decision the writers have made with OB, I still enjoyed the journey from start to finish. It is truly refreshing to watch something where women are at the center and are not burdened by stereotypes or tropes. Thank you, Tatiana, for giving me so many characters to love, including ones I never dreamt I would have an affinity for. 

[cursivescrawl]

End

Rating: PG-13 Category: Mafia Summary:  All things must come to an end.  For Chrome and Naomi, skilled Rozzo informants, there is no exception.

It happened so suddenly that Naomi had no time to think, or act, or do anything but stare in stunned silence.

One moment it was a normal day.  Chrome had his feet on his desk, teasing his poor secretary about getting off the couch and cleaning the office.  (It was honestly less of an office and more of a large apartment, which is what it had started out as.  Naomi had to keep it all clean or risk her paycheck being docked, a frequent threat.)  His back was to the wide floor-to-ceiling window as he reclined in his swivel chair.

"Oh.... you should probably file that information that our dear Agent Alex wanted," he teased.  "He wanted it two days ago, but you've let it off...."

"That was your job," Naomi snapped.  "I'm not going to do all of your work for you."  The way he stressed the agent pissed her off.  This wasn't the first government official to come to them for information, and he certainly wouldn't be the last.

"Was it?"  Chrome's innocent tone and look were totally fake.  Naomi sighed and chucked her pen at the information broker's handsome, mischievous face.

"It was, you insincere scumbag.  Don't even try to deny it," she said, eyes going back to the binder full of outdated information open on her lap.  She cross-checked a fact with the report in front of her and made a dissatisfied noise in the back of her throat.  "And give me back that pen.  I need it."

"Ah-ah-ah, you gave it to me."  Chrome had recovered from the instrument hitting him square in the nose, it seemed.  Now he was twirling it between his slim fingers, smirking.  "I'm not sharing it."

Naomi could swear some days that Chrome was nothing more than a child in the body of a twenty-eight year old.  She sighed, putting the binder on the glass coffee table in front of her as she stood up, stalking over to Chrome's desk and snatching the pen back.

"Remember, you get an alphabet cookie if you share," she said acidly, and stormed back to her nest of paper on the couch.  Chrome's laugh followed her, as did the pleasant chime of an incoming text message from his phone.

"Let me guess.  It's Agent Alex, wondering where the hell his information is," Naomi said sarcastically without looking up. She scribbled a note in the margins of the binder.  "You get to make up the excuse."

"Ah.... no.  I don't give my number out to pompous rats like him.  At least, not this one."  A beat of silence.  "That werewolf pack leader I dealt with the other day is freaking out.  He's got another conspiracy theory that his pack's about to be destroyed."

"Is it correct?" Naomi asked, and was rewarded with a snort.

"Of course it's correct.  I'm not going to tell him that, though.  He's getting annoyingly dependent on me.  Might as well get him off the radar, yeah?"

Naomi shrugged, wondering who Chrome would manipulate into killing the annoying werewolf.  She knew he never did any of his own dirty work.

Chrome stopped spinning and put his feet up on the desk again, holding his phone up above him as he typed on it.  A new email dinged on his computer, but he ignored it, as usual.  He'd sort through them later at night, she knew, working together in silence as Chrome caught up with the work he pretended not to care about and Naomi kept piecing together the story of the odd rips in space that had been appearing in remote locations around the world.

"So does the report contain anything interesting?"  Chrome spun around in his swivel chair, acting like a happy kindergartener again.

"No," Naomi said shortly.  "Nothing we didn't already know, beside the fact that even Foster apparently can't identify the stuff that leaks out of those rips.  And she's got no idea where to start."

Chrome made a noise of interest.  "Think it is a rip between worlds, then?  Hmm.... You're the scientist.  If demons came through to our dimension, what would happen?"

"Don't be a child," Naomi snapped.  "That's a myth."

"So are vampires, mages, and all of the other crazies we deal with regularly.  We have a neko as a pet.  Hell, we rescued our first and only successor from a lectoblix, or don't you remember?"

Naomi had no witty reply for him there, so she stayed silent, not wanting to give him the pleasure of hearing her admit that she was wrong.

It was some time later before Chrome's voice sounded again.  "Hmm."

Naomi ignored him until she saw him move out of the corner of her eye, his feet coming down off the desk as he leaned forward to stare at his computer.  Then she sighed.  "What is it?"

"Governor Helena is dead.  The police report says it's an impossible case – she was in a locked room, with no way for anyone to get in or out."

"So?" A demon rip couldn't open in someone's bedroom.  There needed to be extreme conditions.  "I'm not sure how this-"

"The dark side of Situ just discontinued their teleportation potions."

The pen fell forgotten from Naomi's cold fingers.  She stared unseeing at the binder for a few moments, then jerked her head up to look at Chrome.

His dark eyes were expressionless, but something in the set of his shoulders suggested that he knew what Naomi was thinking.  She had developed that potion, nearly seven years ago.  Was it only seven years?  It felt like a lifetime.  And her brother had warned her that it could be used for this, but she didn't believe him, and now.... How was her brother doing?

"Naomi, I'm thirsty," Chrome whined, looking away.  The moment was lost. Naomi forced herself back to thoughts of the demon rips.  She could look into her family's old company later.

"Go drink lava," she suggested, ignoring how her hands shook when she flipped a page in the binder.

"Nnnnh, I want tea.  Go make some or I'll cut your pay."

Naomi sighed, looking up at the ceiling to stretch out the crick in her neck.  "Ass," she muttered as she stood, grateful to him for the distraction but never wanting to admit it, carefully setting her work aside and placing the report inside the binder.  She half-heartedly flipped Chrome off as she started toward the small kitchen sectioned off by only a paper divider.

The front door slammed open and a loud, familiar bang reverberated around the room.  Naomi ducked instinctively, turning away.  A second loud bang and Naomi felt herself shriek, starbursts of pain radiating from everwhere in her body.  The soft carpet brushed her knees as she fell.

Then quiet.  All quiet, creepy quiet, made quieter in the aftermath of the loud noise.  Even Chrome's inane chatter had stopped, and that was a good thing, because Naomi had no inclination to deal with him right now.  She imagined, through the hazy gray-black-red of pain, that he was simply staring in shock.

She pressed her hands to the pain at her stomach and felt warm liquid rushing through her fingers.  She slowly looked down at her hands, noticing the red stains, and suddenly realized why those bangs had sounded so familiar.

She forced her eyes up, expecting to see one smirking black-haired man leaning over his desk.  But no, Chrome was leaning back still, feet up, blood trickling from his open mouth.  Blood still oozed from a fresh bullet hole in his forehead, beginning to cover his suprised expression.  (And it was ironic, really, that Chrome had died while surprised.  Chrome, who was never surprised at anything.)

Shot.... Assassins.... Messy, they had been sloppy, why hadn't they been more careful?  News of their work with the possible demon rip must have gotten out.  Naomi cursed herself, cursed Chrome, cursed the information leak.

A fresh shock of pain brough Naomi from her self-pity.  Wake up idiot.  Next step, Naomi scolded herself.  She slowly tore one hand away from her stomach, trying to get her hand into her pocket to grasp her phone.  Dark had to know about the assassins. Even though their former trainee had struck out on her own a couple of months ago, she still worked closely with her old mentors.  Dark knew about the demon rip, she could gather the information.  And like any person with a sense of self-importance, Naomi didn't want her work to die with her – even though Dark would possibly ruin it.  The girl took after Chrome in her approach to life, damn her.

Chrome.  She'd never see Chrome again.  Or Dark.  Or her brother.  Or even Ari.  The anguish that tore through her was almost as strong as the pain, threatening to send her over the brink of unconsciousness. She gritted her teeth and refused to think about them, fighting back the blackness and shifting her position the tiniest bit.  Something grated inside her, Naomi could feel it, hear it, everything going black for a couple of seconds.  When Naomi's vision cleared, she realized that her fingertips were touching her phone.

Slowly, carefully, she pulled the device out.  Her fingers trembled as she hit the call button next to Dark's number, leaving bloody smudges on the screen.  Pick up pick up pick up please pick up-

The call went to voicemail.  Naomi cursed as she heard the pleasant female voice tell her that the voicemail box was full, and in a rare display of anger, she threw the phone across the room.

It hit the wall and cracked.  Naomi instantly regretted it, realizing that she could have just texted Dark.  She had just basically condemmed herself to death and still needed to find another way to get a message to the younger informant.  (Dark accidentally ruining her work didn't seem as terrible as it dying with her.  She'd even trust Chrome with it at this point, had he not died first.)

Ah.  There, by the front door.  A pad of paper and a pen, originally put there when Chrome complained about never having anything to scribble quick notes on.

The problem was getting to it.

An excruciating five minutes passed before Naomi finished scrawling a note, not caring that there might be more blood than ink on the once-pretty stationary.  She also didn't care about the smudged ink mingling with the blood on her pale fingers.  The trail of blood on the thick gray carpet, left where she had dragged herself over to the pen and paper, was also none of her concern.  There was no Chrome anymore to dock her paycheck for not having the office clean, right?

She laughed weakly, stopping almost immediately because it hurt and made the room swim even more, and folded the paper in half.  She wrote the address of Dark's P.O. box on the paper, slid it under the door, and promptly collapsed.

The delivery man would take the paper and deliver it to Dark, along with taking the other packages to their proper destinations.  He wouldn't find Naomi and Chrome's bodies.  He'd been instructed when he took the job to never open their door, and he never questioned it. Perhaps he had heard about his two predecessors, both of whom disobeyed that rule.  The first one had been overcome with curiosity, opening the door once and overhearing sensitive information that Chrome and Naomi were discussing.  He had gone insane after a quick chat with Chrome, in which Chrome had calmly told him exactly what would have happened had he stopped his sister from commiting suicide early in his teen years.  The other had walked in on Chrome and Naomi arguing, and failed to see the flying switchblade that Naomi had easily dodged.  By the time he noticed it, it was far too late.

Those memories and others flashed vividly through Naomi's dying mind as her life drained away.  She sank slowly down, feeling shades of gray wash over her.  Death wasn't a dark tunnel, it was a deep ocean, and she was slowly and painfully sinking under.

She drifted deeper, memories and regrets flashing before her eyes, until she was too deep to ever be recovered.

The bloody note sat outside with the late informants' other packages, waiting patiently to unleash its devastating news.

[sweetnestor]

You Look Happier | Chapter 4

university au, teamiplier + jack

platonic/romance/angst/(smut at one point but it’ll only be on ao3)

previous chapter

One of the things Jack and I had in common was that we were our best selves when it came to making videos. We brought it up during a session with Helena, then she required we do this as a trust exercise. I wasn’t exactly reluctant, but I was nervous about what would come up in the middle of this particular video.

Jack and I sat on the couch in the living room, camera and lights on us. Depending on how this went, this video would be going on YouTube, so we had to treat it as such. It was also going to be viewed by Helena, who was going to go in depth at our next session.

“Hey, it’s Bella!” I greeted. “Today, I’m doing something that a lot of you requested, which is the best friend tag! And as of… last year, my best friend is…”

I gestured to Jack, and he put his arms up in the air.

“It’s me.” He smiled before putting his arms back down. “Y’know we first met around this time last year?”

“Really?” I asked, surprised. “Jesus Christ. Actually, that brings us to the first question: how and when did we meet?”

“Ah, it was a bright and sunny morning,” Jack began, “in nineteen fifty four…”

I giggled. “Yeah, basically. Feels like we’ve been friends for a lifetime. It was last year, first day of the spring semester, Mark introduced us.”

“You were so shy,” Jack said fondly. “Aw, that car ride was-”

“Quiet and anxiety inducing,” I finished with a laugh. “But I thought you were really kind.”

“Aww.”

Next question: what’s your favorite memory together?

We sat there and thought about it. Jack was the first to speak.

“I liked the time we went to The Tube,” he said. “Where we drank a lot and someone had to come pick us up.”

“Oh yeah,” I said. “That was fun. I think I like… that time I was sad and you let me do your makeup.”

I was starting to understand why Helena made us do this. Remembering little moments made me feel a huge rush of affection for Jack. My heart was already swelling.

“Describe each other in one word,” he read off my phone.

We looked at each other in thought. I wasn’t sure what to expect from this prompt. What was I to Jack?

“Welcoming,” I answered, deciding to go first this time. “You always treat people the best you can, and you always try to make everyone comfortable. I don’t know, the energy you give off is always kind and warm. You’re just full of good vibes.”

Jack was smiling ear to ear. “I think Helena was right to make us do this.” He paused and then faced the camera again. “My word for you is passionate. You care so much about everything you do. You’re so passionate about your viewers, LGBTQ rights, mental health, makeup.”

The moment was sinking in. But to keep myself from crying, I read the next question.

“What’s one thing you don’t know about each other? Here we go, it’s time to get deep.”

There was another moment of silent thinking, though I knew what my confession would be. I had thought about it plenty of times, and Jack seemed like the only person I could tell.

“Um, I fart a lot in my sleep,” Jack said jokingly.

I chuckled. “I knew that already.”

“Well, I guess you know everything about me!”

“Okay, well I can’t tell them,” I began, gesturing to the camera, “but I’ll tell you.” I hesitated. “You’re probably not gonna believe me.”

“What is it? Just tell me.”

“Santiago isn’t my real last name.”

Jack was silent at first, looking like he was trying to see right through me. He let out a small laugh in disbelief. “No way.”

“I’m serious,” I told him. “I swear, honest to god. I legally changed my last name to Santiago a little bit after moving out of my parents’ house.”

“So what was your real last name?”

“Sanchez,” I said, and then added, “I just didn’t want to be tied to them anymore. Plus, it’s a super generic Mexican last name, and I didn’t really want to be generic.”

“Yeah, I get it.” Jack nodded. “Wow… Bella Sanchez.”

I chuckled at the sound of it. “She’s dead, I don’t know her.”

The next few questions were just guessing each other’s favorite whatever’s. Those were easy and left plenty of room for banter.

“Three things I always carry with me?”

“Easy. Phone, car keys, and whatever lipstick you’re wearing that day.”

“See? This is the kind of man I need! Okay, what nicknames do we have for each other?”

Jack giggled as he sat up. “Let’s see, you were Bella, then Bellers. Then fuckin’ Baller. Nervous Ball, Tiny Ball.”

“You give good nicknames,” I commented. “I have none for you, though.”

“I have enough for the both of us.” He took my phone and read, “Strengths and weaknesses.”

This was definitely going somewhere else. I should mention that Helena picked out the questions for us. She obviously had specific things she wanted us to bring up.

“Bella Santiago. Strength: sharp eyeliner. Weakness: people,” Jack announced, still joking around.

“Well you’re not wrong,” I said. “Let’s see, for you… I think your strength is… remaining humble. Like, you’ve made it so far, you’ve accomplished so much, and none of it has gone to your head.”

“Aw… can I change my answer?”

“And a weakness…” I paused, actually stumped for once. “Hmm…”

“Confrontation,” he admitted. “That’s a tough one.”

Helena was going to have a grand ol’ session with us, that’s all I knew.

“Last question,” Jack went on as he took my phone, “what do you admire most about each other? Oh, that’s easy. Well, you talked about it on your channel, but uh… you were in a very bad situation when you were, what? Eighteen? And you took the initiative to pack everything up and start a new life. You found a way out, even when you thought you couldn’t. And that’s very admirable.”

I let out a strangled, whiney noise. I wanted to cry at his words. Not knowing what else to do, I hugged Jack from the side in a somewhat silly way. “I love yooouuu!”

When I let him go, I took things seriously again. This was proving to be therapeutic.

“The amount of empathy you have for other people is something else,” I told him. “Like… you really can put yourself in other people’s shoes and you can feel what their feeling. I’ve told you some shit about me and we both ended up crying.”

“Your pain is my pain,” he said. “But I think that’s because we’re friends and we’ve also been in the same situation, with the breakups and all.”

“That’s true. But still. Even in your ‘Try Not to Cringe’ videos, you’re still feeling what the other person is feeling, and you’re trying to understand the situation.”

“I’m just being a decent person!”

“But you do it so well! I don’t know, you’re a good role model.”

“Oh, I don’t know about that.”

I looked at him, then at the camera. “What’s one thing you hate about your best friend? He can’t take a fucking compliment!”

Jack laughed. “Well, neither can you!”

“I know…”

~

That video went up before our next therapy session. Our followers went absolutely wild over it. It was sweet. Made me smile for a little bit.

I did cut out certain parts, though, like my last name reveal. Thankfully, instead of people speculating over it, they made it into a meme instead. Not only that, everyone seemed to like us solely as friends, so I was glad I didn’t have to stress about that anymore. I could see the internet as a safe place again.

Another thing I noticed was my subscriber count. I was dangerously close to one million, and it scared me. It was such a big number. It was intimidating, overwhelming.

I took a screenshot of my live subscriber count and tweeted it out with the caption “lmao.” My heart began to race as my mentions filled with responses. Then one particular notification made my head spin.

CrankGameplays quoted your tweet: “Go subscribe!!”

I wanted to reply in all caps, but I was even more nervous about the backlash. I mean, he brought to attention the fact that we knew each other. That, and he told his followers to subscribe to my channel. Strange, a gamer promoting a beauty guru. Not the first time it’s happened, but it was still bizarre.

“Ahh!!” I yelled out when the number on my screen rose dramatically.

Jack was currently in the shower, so he wasn’t here to talk me down from my oncoming anxiety attack. He did scream back in response, though. It was starting to become a regular occurrence within the apartment.

999,028. I wanted to shit my pants, and I tweeted about it. 999,057. I wanted to throw up. 999,102. Jack finally joined the show.

“Did I miss it?” he asked excitedly as he barged into my room. “Did you hit it yet? Man, I should have brought party poppers or something!”

“Almost there!” I told him, anxiously picking at my nails.

Jack came over and sat next to me on the bed. He pulled out his phone and opened up Twitter. Not long after that, I had another notification of another quoted tweet. The live count rose rapidly right then, and I began flailing my hands around hysterically.

“Ahh, what the fuck?” I exclaimed.

999,921. I opened up Snapchat. I recorded the screen and let out a stressful noise. Jack screamed along with me as the number got higher.

I nearly burst into tears when it got to one million. Jack jumped onto the bed and cheered. I quickly tweeted out a thank you in caps lock, my hands shaking from all the excitement.

“WTF THE FCUK IM NT CRYIGNG YOU AR E TE AMO ��💓💖💗💘💙💚💛💜💝🖤💕💞”

Suddenly, Jack tackled me in a side hug, nearly knocking me off the bed. “I’m so proud of you, Bellers.”

I couldn’t help but think that I literally could have been dead in this moment. I could have been dead for almost six months, and I wouldn’t have been here to see this. Life is wild.

~

Later that night, I was able to see Ethan. I did have to pick him up at the office, though… and I had to park somewhere down the road. I felt like a stalker fangirl, waiting for my YouTube crush to come out of the building so I could kidnap him.

Ugh, crush. I felt like I was sixteen, stricken with lovesick emotions. My chest was constantly warm, and my stomach was always full of butterflies. I had Cupid’s arrow in my ass, and now I couldn’t see anything except the hearts circling my head, and the guy who gave me all these gross, mushy feelings.

Those feelings intensified when I spotted him leaving the building. Just seeing Ethan a distance away made me grin like an idiot. He spotted my car and walked over, holding a balloon in his hand. When he got closer to the car, I looked towards the building, just to make sure that none of his friends/coworkers had followed him. It was short, but I didn’t see anything. I turned my attention back to Ethan when he got in the car.

“Hey,” he greeted, “I got you this.”

He struggled slightly to pull in the single purple balloon. It only made my heart sing more.

“What for?” I asked.

“‘Cause you hit a milestone today,” he told me.

I blushed. Thank god he couldn’t see me in the dark. “That’s sweet.”

Ethan pushed the thing into the backseat before I drove off. Today, we decided to go up to Hollywood Hills. It was better for us to go at night because there were far less people, and neither of us were busy at this hour. I had to have him navigate though, because neither of us had been up there before. Thankfully, we got there without any extra difficulty, aside from the usual traffic.

It was quite a walk up to where we wanted to go. There was a specific view we wanted to find, and honestly, I was not a hiker. But this was mainly Ethan’s idea, and I was willing to do whatever he wanted, despite the underlying bout of nerves.

“Is this high enough?” he asked when we reached a certain landing.

I looked out at the view. It was all black with many dots of light. I wasn’t one for heights, but since the elevation was blocked out by the darkness, it wasn’t as scary. The stars in the sky were covered by the busy, neverending lights of the city. My legs were sore, and I was out of breath, so I nodded in response and went to sit on a nearby rock.

“How long have you lived out here?” he asked me as he walked around the cliff.

Uh oh. Interrogation time.

“Two, almost three years,” I replied.

“Oh, you’ve probably seen a lot of the city, haven’t you?” he guessed.

I chuckled, and rubbed my hands together nervously. “If you count my skill of handling traffic from driving so much, then yes.”

“Wait, really?”

“Yeah, I don’t really get out much.” I could tell this was going to bring on an awkward pause, so I quickly added, “but what about you? Are you liking it here so far?”

“Yeah, absolutely,” he said. “I, uh, I miss my family a lot, though. It still feels weird being so far away.”

“Aw, I know,” I said, even though I really didn’t. “You get used to it. At least you really get to value the time you do spend with them.” Again, I didn’t know the feeling, I just heard that from other people.

“Oh yeah, I loved this last Christmas,” Ethan said, pacing around some more. “Did you get to see your family over the holidays?”

Oh god, why did he ask that? I couldn’t stop the awkward tension from arising.

“No.”

Before I could explain further, Ethan stopped in his tracks and interjected, “Oh! You mentioned at homecoming… uh, I’m sorry, we don’t have to talk about that.”

“It’s okay,” I reassured. Although, I did cringe at the mention of homecoming. I had to give him the gist of my family thing. He had to get an idea of all the emotional baggage I carried. “I have been living on my own for…” I counted on my fingers. “Six or seven years. My parents didn’t exactly like the idea of their daughter being bi, so as as soon as I turned eighteen, I left and started fresh.”

Ethan took a minute to process all of that. I could tell I made things awkward with that bit of information. There go my chances.

“Oh, I didn’t know that was the case,” he said. “I’m sorry.”

I waved it off, as always. “It was years ago, it’s no big deal.”

He nodded and continued pacing. “Were you scared when you first moved?”

I was grateful for the subject change. “Absolutely. I cried a lot when I moved out of my parents’ house, and I cried more when I moved here.” I paused. “Are you… how have you been since you moved?”

Ethan hesitated. “I don’t know how to put it. I miss my family, but I’ve also been so busy that I don’t really feel it all the time. And I miss my friends too… But YouTube is all I’ve wanted to do, and everything is taking off, so I shouldn’t be sad, right?”

“You can be sad,” I reassured. “Like, you’re far from your hometown and all your friends, it only makes sense. And chasing your dreams comes with a lot of sacrifices.”

“Yeah…” he hummed.

I was eighty percent sure I said it to him at homecoming, but I was thinking about it again: how lucky was he to have a family so good to him that he’s genuinely upset to be far away from them. I didn’t really envy him for it, though. I could see why he was feeling like this.

“D-Do you need a hug… or something?” I mumbled, but he caught it anyway.

A little smile began to etch on his face. I half meant it as a joke, but as soon as it was in the air, that was all I wanted to do. The look on Ethan’s face said the same thing, and he opened his arms.

It should have been a quick, jokey-joke hug. But as soon as I was wrapped up in his arms, I didn’t want to let go. I was supposed to be comforting him, but I felt so light and warm. His hand went down to my lower back, which sent intense feelings of heat and electricity throughout my body. I felt weirdly comfortable, and that was so rare.

Then, a bright, blinding light shone on us.

_______

next chapter

[smoaking-greenarrow]

How about 12 and 18;)

Prompts here!

                                                   Quick to Run

Felicity sat on the kitchen floor with her chin on her knees, her hands shaking. She stared blankly at the television across the room, no longer able to hear it over the ringing in her ears or see it through her blurred vision. It was like everything slowed down to a crawl as soon as she saw them carrying a body out of the building…with the headline “Oliver Queen dead after courthouse shooting” screaming at her from the bottom of the screen.

She glanced from the TV down to her hands. She’d just seen him, kissed him and told him that she’d see him in a couple of hours. 

He’d gone to the courthouse to testify at Helena Bertinelli’s final trial. And apparently she’d hired a hit man to kill him. Felicity couldn’t wrap her head around any of it. He’d gone to help her, to say that she had changed. Oliver was even going to get Waller to put her on the squad and reduce her sentence. Why would she want to kill him?

Felicity’s head was swimming, and she wasn’t sure how long she was on the floor, but eventually the front door opened, and she vaguely registered a figure coming into the loft. 

She couldn’t tell that it was John until his face was right in front of hers. His lips were moving, but the ringing in her ears was so loud, his voice sounded so far away and muffled. She felt like she was floating. “What?” She breathed, in a trance she never even knew was possible.

Diggle sighed and put his arms under hers, lifting her from the floor, he lead her out of the apartment and down the stairs. He helped her into the passenger seat of his car, “Wait no,” she mumbled, “Dig, please. I don’t want to see him like that.”

He got in the car beside her, “Felicity, he’s okay. You need to see him to believe it but Oliver is okay.” He was speaking slowly so that she would understand.

Felicity stared at him, able to hear his words but not quite able to connect them with meaning yet. “What?”

“Oliver is okay. I’m taking you to him.”

Felicity wrung her hands together, waiting for more, but he seemed to want to leave it at that, give her time to process. Her heart rate picked up with the roller coaster of emotions the night was turning out to be. She didn’t ask any questions, her head was too muddled. And she didn’t want to get her hopes up, even if it was Dig and she trusted him more than anyone. Her heart wanted to believe what he said but her mind was in protective mode and it didn’t want to let her believe anything she couldn’t see. 

It reconciled itself when she realized that they were heading for the bunker. At least she’d be able to see for herself soon enough.

When they arrived, Diggle followed her silently until they reached the elevator, where he gave her a quiet, regretful, “I’m sorry Felicity.”

She stared at him, “He’s alive?” She asked now.

John nodded, and Felicity could tell that he didn’t really know where to start in explaining what the hell happened tonight. The doors opened and the first thing she saw was Oliver, sitting in her chair wearing only a pair of sweatpants. His eyes were eager as the doors opened, and he looked as relieved as she felt when his eyes met hers. “Hey,” he said quietly, all broody and tortured.

Felicity’s mood shifted again, apparently the roller coaster was now off of it’s tracks and her mind and heart just didn’t know what to do or how to feel. The relief at seeing him lasted all of ten seconds until the anger took over. “Don’t ‘hey’ me.” She glared at him, marching over to her computers. “What the hell, Oliver?”

Oliver stared up at her, confused but staying in the chair while she towered over him. He took in her anger, accepting it before he looked at Diggle. “You didn’t call her?” he asked, his face dropping in shock, in horror.

Diggle sighed, “Okay, let’s just hash this all out calmly…and without getting riled up and saying anything that we don’t mean…”

“You’re such an ass!” Felicity yelled, slapping his arm. Oliver leaned back, rubbing the spot where she hit him.

“Ow.” Felicity noticed the gauze around his middle, the bandage and red stain on his abdomen. 

Her eyes filled with water now, and Oliver and Dig exchanged glances. “What happened?” She asked, eyeing his wound. 

Diggle stepped forward now, “It was a trap. The Huntress never really cared about joining the squad or getting out of prison. She just wanted Oliver dead. We weren’t expecting the ambush…Oliver got shot, but Helena got away. We had to make her think that she won; that Oliver was dead.”

“Wh-why did she want to kill you?” Felicity choked out, her fingers tracing his chest as tears fell down her cheeks.

Oliver sighed, rubbing her hand and bringing it to his mouth, “She directed all of that anger she had for her father at me. She was so invested in her revenge that she couldn’t cope without a new target. I just didn’t realize it was me.” He looked at Diggle now, gently pulling on Felicity’s hand until she was seated in his lap, where he traced soothing circles on her back. “Why didn’t you call to tell Felicity about the plan?” Oliver asked, clearly upset about it but trying to follow Diggle’s rule of not getting angry and saying things he’d regret later.

“I called you ten times,” His eyes were apologetic as he spoke to her, “but the news about Oliver’s ‘death’ broke before I could reach you.” He looked at Oliver, “She saw it on the news before I could tell her what was going on, man. By the time I got over there to see her…”

Felicity sighed, trying to take a moment to process all of it, everything from when Oliver walked out of the loft until now. Putting all of the pieces together, and the fact that he was right there, touching her, allowed her to feel relief again. She buried her head into Oliver’s neck and heard him exhale. “I’m okay,” he mumbled into her ear, “And I’m so sorry things didn’t go according to plan. I can’t even imagine what that felt like to see the news…to think that I was dead.”

Felicity nodded, focusing on keeping her breath even and getting rid of that annoying ringing. “I’m sorry Felicity.” John said, “What can I do?” She felt so tired all of a sudden, all she could do was shake her head no.

Oliver kissed her temple, “Don’t worry about it, Dig. I’ve got her. Go on home to Lyla, tell her JJ still has an Uncle Ollie.” John nodded, sighing as he headed back to the elevator.

“She’s been calling all night. I’m in trouble,” he shook his head as the doors closed.

Felicity and Oliver sat just like that for another twenty minutes, until Felicity finally felt like herself again. The ringing in hear ears silenced, the muffled feeling like she was underwater finally fading. “I thought I lost you for a second there.” She said quietly.

“You didn’t,” he said gently, “you won’t.”

Felicity moved so that she could see his face, “I’ve never really felt anything like that,” she said, her eyes still glazed over as he analyzed her face. 

“You were in shock,” he responded, “But everything is okay. I’m alive…and I love you, Felicity.”

“I love you,” she whispered, pressing her lips softly to his, slowly and delicately, like she was testing to make sure that it was real, that he was really there. 

“Felicity…” he said, biting his lip and glancing around the room for a moment. “Tonight made me think about how… I don’t ever want to leave you like that. I want to live long enough to grow old with you; to have kids and share a life with you,” he swallowed, blinking back tears. His tears brought fresh ones to her eyes, “I don’t ever want you to be in pain because of me. And I don’t want to die down here.”

“You won’t,” she sighed, her heart aching for him. “Oh, Oliver you won’t.” She pressed her lips to his again, this time not being nearly as gentle. She turned herself so that she was straddling his lap and she heard him groan, breaking the kiss and letting out a deep breath. She moved her lips to his neck as she was grinding her hips against his, and he was gripping her waist, “Kiss me,” she whispered, her voice thick, and his body was responding just as much as it was protesting.

He let out a sharp breath when she moved her hips again, “Felicity,” He breathed. She waited, running her nose along his jaw. “Bullet wound.”

Felicity gasped, jerking back and moving to stand up in front of him. “Oh my god,” her hands flew to her mouth, completely forgetting about the gauze. She fussed over the fresh red stains on his bandage, mumbling to herself as she looked around for the first aid kit. 

She was turning on her heel to retrieve it but he grabbed her hand and pulled her back onto his lap, “I didn’t say stop,” he whispered in her ear, “Just take it easy on me.”

Felicity wiggled to get out of his grip, “I have to change those bandages,” She said. 

“Hey… Felicity.” He waited until she turned her head to look at him. “I’m okay.” He promised.

“You’re sure?” 

“Yes,” he said, pressing a kiss to her shoulder, “Now please finish what you were doing to me just a minute ago,” he teased, nipping at her skin.

Felicity smiled, “Not until you’re healed.” He groaned and she rolled her eyes, standing up and getting the first aid kit, “And I’m still changing those bandages.”

[ramshacklerumble]

Alright! Make way! Make way! Soirée Committee comin’ through!

Groovy: [locked]

Set Home: Let’s show some hustle out there! / Right.

Home Transition One: Check it out, Henchie. When I move around my ribbon glitters! / Yeah. Looks good.

Home Transition Two: Myahahaha! Look at Deuce! He’s sweatin’ bullets! Can’t wait to see how he screws THIS up. / Mm. He’ll pull through.

Home Transition Three: Grim. Where’s Helena’s fork? / What ya lookin’ at me for? I only ate her food…Myah! You think I ate that, too?!

Home, after login: You won’t admit it, but you actually like gettin’ all dressed up like this, don’t ya? / …Sorta.

Home transition, Groovification: [locked]

Tap Home 2: Yeesh. Azul’s keepin’ busy handing out business cards— should he even be doing that? / Leave him.

Tap Home 1: Rook and René’s really tearin’ up the dance floor. Makes me wanna boogie, too! / Sure. Let’s go.

Tap Home 3: All these yummy desserts and pastries and Kalim STILL tries to feed me crackers! / *Huff*

Tap Home 4: Myaha! These Royal Sword guys are a bunch of wimps, they’re totally scared of Malleus! / Shh…

Tap Home 5: The sash? It’s so people know to talk to me if they need anything. / I don’t get why though, don’t people ALREADY do that?

Tap Home, Groovification: [locked]

—

round 2 for the glimmering soirée cards LEL i decided to base gia’s a bit off the grand duke from cinderella since he’s the one having to run around helping the prince. i imagine the way this ‘combined’ gia and grim card works like the tsum/stitch swimwear sprites where grim is sorta just hanging out on gia’s shoulders.

this card is meant to be paired with ssr helena!

Glimmering Soirée created/hosted by @starry-night-rose

taglist:

@cyanide-latte @inmateofthemind @simons-twsted-children @tixdixl @blithesharem @thehollowwriter

@jovieinramshackle @theleechyskrunkly @skriblee-ksk @boopshoops @the-trinket-witch @twistedwonderlandshenanigans

@kimikitti (dm to be added)