#I feel like this is mostly style replication with like a splash of my own preferences

[raens-art]

Had to draw the best girl so here's a page of studies, ranging from redraws to original stuff.

Keep comments in the tags and replies, thank you.

Bonus process of one of the busts under cut:

[beautiful-and-terrible]

dazed ’n’ confused (part 2)

A/N: omg this part was so much longer than i ancitipated sorry T__T and i promise in part 3 we will get some fun stuff ;)

Ship: Rodrick Heffley x OFC

Warnings: none (for this chapter)

---

The whole day, Nicole was distracted. She sat in her lifeguard chair, biting her nails, eyes concealed by her sunglasses and gazing at nothing. The pool manager ended up telling her off because she let multiple people dive off the board at the same time. She was a mess on the way home, too. She stopped at her favorite gas station to get slushy and almost left her bike behind, aimlessly wandering toward her house before she remembered she hadn’t walked there in the first place.

She got home and hopped in the shower, rinsing off the sunscreen and sweat, trying to forget how warm Rodrick’s hands felt under her own, how she had been close enough to smell laundry detergent and cinnamon gum. His dark eyes and full lips. 

She almost slipped getting out of the shower.

She tried to write music and get him off her mind, but all of her songs ended up sounding sad and sappy or slow and sultry. It was maddening.

The next day, Saturday, Nicole woke up more irritated than usual. She normally wasn’t a morning person, but this was next level. She did her makeup quickly and threw her hair into a pair of messy french braids. She decided to treat herself to an ice coffee, so she grabbed her wallet and headed outside to her bike.

Despite it being 9:30 in the morning, Rodrick was already outside… mowing grass? Nicole had never once seen him do that before. Giving him a short wave, she coasted down her driveway and headed into town toward the Starbucks. 

As she stopped at the sign at the end of their street, she looked back. Rodrick was looking in her direction, but Nicole shook away the thought that he could’ve been staring. She looked both ways quickly before pedaling quicker than she had before.

The Starbucks was about a 20 minute bike ride from her house, and Nicole usually took this time to listen to a podcast or her favorite album. This morning, she chose “Dr. Feelgood” by 

Motley Crue - she was a sap, sue her. She liked to remember the little things about people. She definitely recognized the chord progressions and drum patterns replicated in Loded Diper’s songs - at least, the songs that she had heard muffled through the garage door as she hung her head out her window to listen.

A short time later, Nicole hopped off her bike and locked it in place, skipping with anticipation for the sweetest, creamiest ice coffee she could get her little hands on. She walked up to the cashier, browsing the menu quickly.

“Hi, Welcome to Starbucks - what can I get started for you?”

“I’ll do a iced caramel macchiato with almond milk and light ice, please.”

“For sure, anything else?”

“No, thanks,” Nicole said, pulling out a five dollar bill and some ones.

“Hey, aren’t you new in town? You came into school at the end of the semester.”

Nicole looked up at the cashier, just now noticing what she looked like. She was cute in a pixie, petite kind of way, with short brown hair and big green eyes. If Nicole hadn’t been so enamored with Rodrick, she probably would’ve developed a big whopping crush on this girl, too.

“Yeah, I’m Nicole. You go to PVH, too?”

“I’m Caitlin - we were in bio together, I think.” Nicole wracked her brains, thinking back to the last bit of school she could remember.

“Oh, right, we partnered up a couple times.” Nicole said, smiling.

“Hey, if you want, a couple of friends and I are having a party tonight. You should come,” Caitlin said, flashing a dimpled smile. Nicole felt her tummy flip - mostly from excitement, and the elation of feeling included by her peers.

“For sure, just text me the number.” Nicole wrote down her number on a hot beverage sleeve and slid it towards Caitlin.

“Cool, see you then. Oh, and your drink will be right over there.”

“Thanks.”

Biting her lip to keep from grinning like a crazy person, Nicole moved down the divided counter to wait for her drink. The whole bike ride home she couldn’t help thinking that maybe moving to this town wasn’t such a bad thing after all. The day ended up not being as horrifically hot as yesterday, and Nicole’s mood had improved significantly after a heavy dose of caffeine.

But, when she rounded the corner back onto her street, Rodrick was still outside, mowing the lawn. And lord have mercy, for such a skinny looking boy, he had some seriously toned arms. Nicole almost crashed her bike into the curb, narrowly avoiding spilling her drink all over herself. She rode past him up her own driveway without acknowledging him, even though this time he was the one who waved to her. Payback for flaunting his ridiculous arms in front of her at 10:30 in the morning.

She went inside to change into her bathing suit and the usual denim shorts she wore over them. She didn’t need to leave for work for another hour, so she plugged her electric guitar into the amp in her room and fiddled around with learning some Motley Crue riffs that she remembered from her morning bike ride. Nicole wasn’t a prodigy by any means, but she had been playing guitar for long enough that she knew the basic chord structure of most of their popular songs. 

As she stood up to slip on her black converse, she saw her phone had lit up with a text. Unknown number.

“Hey, its Caitlin :) the address is 460 Norfolk Drive. Party starts @ 10!”

Nicole did a little dance. “Cool, I’ll be there :)” she texted back, and ran down the stairs back to the garage to get her bike again. She was so excited by the idea of hanging out with people her age that she almost didn’t see Rodrick leaning against his own bike at the end of her driveway.

“Your lawn looks good,” Nicole teased as she rode by. If Rodrick had any snarky reply, she was gone before she heard it. Looking back over her shoulder, she saw him standing with his mouth agape. She laughed to herself before starting her regular route to the city pool.

Not long after she started her shift, perched in her lifeguard chair with the umbrella angled to deflect the worst of the sun, Rodrick showed up with his two friends. They seemed to be attached at the hip. One was shorter than Rodrick, with long, surfer-style blonde hair, and one was about Rodrick’s height, with short dark hair and a cool slit in his eyebrow. 

Nicole was glad her sunglasses were dark enough to not see her eyes, because she definitely would’ve been caught staring by now. Rodrick wasn’t muscular by any means, or athletic, but there was still something cute and boyish about his gangly frame, and the way his shoulder muscles flexed when he took his shirt off was… for lack of a better word, distracting.

The first couple of hours passed uneventfully, and Nicole started to doze in her chair, chin propped up on her hand. The combination of warm sun and cool breeze lull her into a half-awake state. It was adult swim, so there weren’t any kids to worry about. She could close her eyes for a few minutes and…

She heard him before she saw him. The signature sound of the diving board being bounced once, twice, and then…

Nicole was doused in freezing cold water.

The huge splash covered both sides of the pool, high enough to reach her in her life guard chair. Moaning with displeasure, Nicole wrenched her sunglasses off her face and pointed an accusing finger at the grinning boy in the water. Fucking Rodrick.

“You’re dead, you little shit.” Nicole growled, and left her sunglasses on the seat of her lifeguard chair before diving in the pool.

The cool water enfolded her, silky and calm, before she came up under Rodrick and unleashed all hell. Still under water, she grabbed his ankles to pull him down. She heard his shout of alarm before it transformed into bubbles.

Underwater, her vision was blurred, but Nicole could still see Rodrick laughing and the dark outline of his eyes. She found herself laughing too as they briefly wrestled and tried to drag the other farther underwater before they both broke the surface, gasping for air.

“Okay, okay mercy,” Rodrick gasped as Nicole wound her arms around his neck in a headlock.

“Stay off the diving board, or I’ll make you drink the kiddy pool water.”

“Oh my god, kids pee in there!”

“Exactly,” Nicole laughed before shoving him away, though it wasn’t very aggressive considering the water softened the blow. Rodrick was still laughing behind her.

“Damn, if I get that kind of a reaction every time I jump in the pool, maybe I’ll do it for a living,” he called after her.

Nicole dunked her head under water once more to adjust her hair before climbing out of the deep end on the latter, electing to ignore that last comment. Now that she was back in her life guard chair, she couldn’t believe how impulsive she had been. Some kind of instinct took over and before she knew it, she had been flying out of her chair to give Rodrick a taste of his own medicine.

And now that she was thinking about it even more, the more embarrassed she became. Oh God, had she been super obvious? And more than that, had she been unprofessional?

She looked around the pool to see if her manager was watching - luckily, no sign of him. Most of the other pool guests weren’t paying that much attention either, except Rodrick’s friends, who were still laughing hysterically as Rodrick dried himself off by shaking his hair like a wet dog.

Nicole had touched more of Rodrick than she had the other day when they accidentally touched hands. Way more of him. Not that she exactly remembered the feeling of every limb, but the contact still made her feel more than a little weak in the knees.

They didn’t even know each other that well! What was she thinking!

Nicole spent the rest of her shift biting her nails anxiously, and when her co-worker came to switch chairs she ran to hide in the employee lounge next to the girls bathrooms.

By the time five o’clock came, she had calmed down a little bit, but was still embarrassed by her frankly juvenile behavior. She helped clean up the pool area by hosing it down and picked up some left over trash before heading to her bike.

And, because Nicole had maybe the worst (or best, it was hard to say) luck in the world, Rodrick was waiting for her.

“Figured I could ride home with you, since you like being near me so much,” Rodrick called as she approached. Nicole groaned, rolling her eyes.

“I wouldn’t have to get near you if you didn’t a) act like a child, and b) violate pool rules.”

“I’m pretty sure “almost drawing a patron” counts as violating pool rules, Nikky.”

“Don’t call me that,” Nicole spat with no real heat behind it.

“If you’re gonna ride home with me, you’re gonna pay for my slushy,” Nicole called over her shoulder as she started pedaling away.

“Ooo, is this a date?” Rodrick laughed, and Nicole flipped him off without looking. “C’mon, I thought we were getting along since I fixed your tire?”

Nicole, tired of the banter and not able to think of a better response, decided to take mercy on him.

“No… no. We’re cool. I’d rather have my dumb neighbor as a friend than no one at all.”

Rodrick pulled up next to her on his bike, tongue peeking between his teeth as he tried to suppress a grin. “Yeah, you seem cool. At least, your music taste isn’t completely horrible.”

“Oh, and yours is perfect, I’m assuming?” 

“Naturally,” Rodrick said, pedaling faster to pull a wheelie in front of her, obviously trying to show off. In all honesty, it was a pretty cool trick - but Nicole would never tell him that. The evening was cooling down, but the sun was still a couple hours from setting, so everything had a deep golden glow - the trees seemed greener, and the grass softer, and random birds would occasionally chirp from deep within the woods. The world felt alive and wonderful and terribly, terribly exciting.

“So, why the hell did you move to Plainview?” Rodrick asked. 

“Wasn’t like it was my choice. My Dad got a new job, and my Mom works from home so she can take care of us - so me and my two little sisters just got the short end of the straw.”

“You have sisters?” 

“Yeah, Caroline and Georgia. Do you have siblings?”

Rodrick rolled his eyes, “Yeah, two shit head little brothers, Greg and Manny. Well, Manny isn’t really a shit head, ‘cause he’s like three, but I know he will be once he hits four.”

Nicole laughed. They were nearing the gas station she liked to get slushies from, so she suddenly started pedaling faster and yelled behind her, “First one there buys!”

She narrowly made it there before him, laughing at his red face and shaking legs as he dismounted his bike.

“No one should be that fast,” he panted, but smiled as he opened the door for her. 

The blast of air conditioning felt good on Nicole’s heated skin, and she made a B-line for the slushy machine.

“Blue raspberry is the obvious best choice,” Nicole said, filling her cup up to the brim.

“No way, cherry is the only valid flavor,” Rodrick said, already munching on a bag of sour gummy worms. She raised an eyebrow at him and he simply winked in response, causing Nicole to turn her head away when she felt the heat rise to her cheeks.

Rodrick paid for their stuff and they spent the rest of the bike ride home trying to throw gummy worms at each other and catch them in their mouths.

“So.. there's a van. Outside your house. With your band name on it,” Nicole said, pointedly looking at him. Rodrick looked straight ahead.

“Yeah.” 

“And yet, you’re out here riding your bike. With me.”

“Yeah.”

“So what's the hold up? You don’t have your license yet or something?”

“I can drive!” Rodrick said indignantly, his voice cracking slightly, causing you to throw your head back in laughter.

“I’m saving up money to get it fixed,” he grumbled, pulling another wheelie.

“Doing tricks won’t distract me from this, Rodrick.

“Fine. Once its fixed, I’ll take you for a ride, deal?”

“Deal,” Nicole said primly, taking a sip of her slushy. 

Sooner than she thought, they ended up in front of their respective homes. The time had flown by - she hadn’t even noticed they were close.

She was about to wave goodbye and turn to go up her driveway when Rodrick cleared his throat.

“Hey, um… my band and I - we’re having practice tonight. Again. We have a gig later this week so we wanna practice as much as possible. Uhm. Would you wanna stop by? You can bring your guitar or whatever,” he said, looking down at his shoes that he was currently scuffing against the sidewalk.

“How do you know I play guitar?”

Somehow, Rodrick looked even more sheepish. “Uh, you left your window open, earlier. When you were practicing.”

This time, Nicole was the one to blush. Fuck. She hadn’t even thought about any one being able to hear her. And after Rodrick told her Loded Diper was originally a Motley Crue cover band.... Oh, he definitely knew she was whipped. Fuck!

“Haha, oh, yeah… uh, sure. I can come over.”

Rodrick grinned - a genuinely excited smile, not his usual impish smirk. It made Nicole’s heart stutter in her chest.

“Come over in an hour - I’ll get snacks.”

Nicole turned away without another word, deciding they would have plenty more to say to each other very soon. But fucking hell, what was she going to wear?

[lunar-rose-academy]

How 2 RP - Part 1.5 (A little extra)

Hey everyone! Masao here~ Welcome to part 1.5, a little extra for you all, where i interview a experienced RPer, who shares their story, and give their own tips for RP. I thought it would be nice to hear from someone that has more experience then i do.

Today, we talk with:

@captainkurosolaire

​​A very good friend of mine who was actually one of my very first RP friends back in the days of Heavensward. Kuro was one of the first groups i joined, called Goldbrand. A pirate group that mostly focused on hunting Relics and the like. I learned a lot about RP from him, and made me really enjoy writing stories. He is also a very awesome dude and very humble. I hope our little interview helps you get motivated to RP, and to set that first step into the fantastic world of FFXIV!

My first question for Kuro was:

When you started RP, how did you start? Did you have a lot of help? Kuro: I started 6 years ago in XIV RP. I've been LARPing, I've built my own scuffed tabletop game with me and a bud, I've done WoW RP (Didn't click with me due to bad introduction to it.) As an only child, I've always had nothing but the highest of imagination's and I've always been tethered to create and build.I had tons of help. I wouldn't be here in the community without one of my ex's who drove me into it. I was a cuck. They shaped me and saw that, I was passionately nerdy about this stuff and always directed me towards this but, I was a shy bean and in a cocoon thought I’d fail or be a burden. After they parted with me for being naive and needing to harden me with heartbreak, I took a gamble for myself. Leaped in after a person named Sei took me in, I created Captain off just his glamour alone and then built off the tiny sketches with what I had in solo and overtime.Started from Gilgamesh, then went to Balmung. This was the era when Quicksands a majority of the time was filled with ERP and anything on the outskirts, were the more serious players and you had to go looking. I made a character fit and based around Quicksands and centered around the atmosphere. It felt fitting. So I went brash from being the most introvert by playing the most opposite to me. To not only challenge myself, but to force me to learn more. This overall was more productive of aiding in my conquest for building my Tabletop game, at first, it was mainly for that...Then eventually as my reputation was mainly ERP but somehow my F-list had some actual character-depth, I expanded and branched off. I was told by my Kahn'a my practical Yoshi P and lore guide. Some helpful hints and after that they practically set me up for transitioning out of just being a smut writer, even though I had a story behind each thing, I wanted to transition out. Then I met Verrine, Mishi, Thorcatte, Sun’ra, These people really put the ground-works into my story alongside Kahn'a, everywhere I turned, every person I met, they were inspirations, they were aiding me in RPing and feeling like this is my home, this is the land of the nerds and I owe them everything for letting me find this haven.Eventually another friend told me basically, why not just DM(Dungeon Master). Since I had contacts, I had the RP and creativity for it. They pointed me in that direction. Wasn't until I met my longest and really huge gratitude of an RPer in Ayla, who eventually inspired and led me into not only you. But bringing in many others who I eventually found as crew.I owe a tremendous amount to Ayla... Without a shadow of a doubt. Kahn'a too, but I could say literally, I owe everyone, four-hundred people in my head right now. From I've ever contacted or came into RP or even plotted none of their experiences have ever gone to waste. They each gave me a presence of passion. I transitioned off; led a huge DM group that was mainly done because you reached back out after I hit a downward spiral. After I left everything behind and ruined nearly all of it and lost my mojo.You rose me back like the phoenix, I eventually created a plot so massive that I could DM for like thirty individual people with the right support and people, did I fail in being a community leader or dealing with drama and involving everyone with my health and limited energy? You're damn straight. -- I failed utterly horrendously!  However -- It wasn't entirety wasn't in vain, people found their little groups and pockets in that, they met their meshes. Which objectively, that's all that matters as someone who organizes those to bring people together and in.After that... I transitioned into Tumblr more after being encouraged by people like Fair-Fae from afar, to Sei. Then worked on drumming to the beats given. To every person, even the ones that are angry emoji in the background-- I love em' their passion rubs into me and it breathes of air, gives me wings better than red-bull advertises! As someone who's dealing with an inoperable and bed-ridden rare disease, I've never been or felt more alive.I owe so much to people, and it's why I've stuck around for six years now and continue to batter up against the foul. This is why, I want to raise, boost, encourage, and rally others to be shared so they find in match-making their RP partners, and despite... I know my writing style hasn't ever been everyone's flavor, I never have ever thought of ever wanting someone not to find happiness. I couldn't give up RP at this stage. My next question would be, If you could give a tip to someone who just wanted to start to get into RP, what would you say to them? Kuro:  Know this. Getting into RP is a joke. It's really easy, you possess already every tool to be a tremendous RPer! Much better than I and I ever will be.

Short version: Just communicate. RP It's merely a Dance that can be positively enchanting, magical! -- I don't care what anyone says. ~ It's a partnership, you've got to find the people who keep up with pace and momentum, or blend with your style. You won't always find that and it's not a bad thing if that can't work. Some characters don't connect, some are opposite but they can still work. That's because it requires, one additional thing that requires: a pillar of effort. Don't let yourself be overwhelmed. Looking from the outside this game I've heard and seen, It's intimidatingly daunting. It's a lot to get into. Though this game? It's unoriginal. There isn't anything you can't create in this game, you have science, you've got alchemy, you've got magic. This game is literally called Fantasy in the title, this game has yanked and pulled off all the foundations of RL concepts, other fantasy tropes, religions, and renamed them and splashes over paint. You can do the same... Anything can be explained, I don't care what it is. People are fundamentally not grown as the exact same, I'm not personally here to be a clone trooper. Now If I want to play that, I can even do that respectively.* Look around the game visually, see if you think it can be done with the setting and place, build yourself something anything, you've got a whole box of legos don’t step on them. It’s proven constantly your creativity can be endless the more you play over time, or invest, put yourself out there. Go look into some guides, pull from a book, or google anything you’re thinking about. Again: People have styles they're different. You may appeal to being an NPC, you may like to be extended into Lore, you may not like all the fantasy, that's more than reasonable, it's all valid... There are people that feel you, they're waiting for YOU. Then you'll find people who are open-minded, you'll find people like me, I was in RP's with aliens, voidsents, normal people, WoL, like I've witnessed a lot. Listen to them, let them explain, and most often they fit. If you're too close-minded to accept then you don't need to worry you’ve already decided they’re not you, or your taste, leave them to their devices let them have their happiness, and go back to the scour. Don’t try harassing or bothering something that’s not there or ever will work. Wastes time and misery and drama isn’t worth unless it’s within stories, trust me. See for me... I’ve seen it all. People saying aetherfeeders and vampires didn't exist they cried on the forums and held a tantrum you had people say for years -- then boom RDM storyline and Stormblood came out debunked. Submarines weren’t things prior to SB despite we’ve got Garlean’s over here casually making Gundam’s. Their careers are over they played themselves -- this game is still continuing and always will if you're waiting for official confirmation from a -book- then you're going to be miserable, you're living off the backbone of a book meant to 'guide' and be resourceful in extension not to weaponize it and be a prick to people who don’t follow strictly the same ethic as you’ve so randomly chosen for yourself in standards, I hate to burst bubbles, but you’re never going to be 100% accurate, never ever. You didn’t create this game -- or it, therefore you can’t be anything but a replicator you’re just stuck either limiting your pieces or taking from an entire tub of building material. You aren't playing the book, you're playing the game. That's the real cannon, you literally visually see everything that's going to happen, you can bend it with predictions and logistical math. See XIV, they bend-over concepts of the real and made them fit or pried. I don't just bend lore… I bend it over. Why would there ever be anything that cannot be created? It's just how you interpret it, there are lazy ways to explain things, then there are thorough and detailed methods to get to the same realization of what you want to create that'll work and fit like puzzles to slots this story could’ve foretold. If done correctly more often then not XIV will follow suit in the same thing an expansion later if you stick to your wings, I’ve done it numerous times it feels like XIV has followed copied my test and then tried not to make it look obvious its because stories we’ve brazenly written together in deep-thinking. When my character is tagged IC that's it. Everything he witnesses or sees, I'm not refuting it. That's my chosen though, I see Quicksands and there's no way that place on my Balmung Shard and experiences is it clean, is it lead properly, or the official’s high representatives who totally are just fine with letting a Voidsent blow up the city-state. My character witnessed that, it’s set in stone. Though that's the option and you should always find what makes you comfortable, who makes you comfortable and consider that above all else. Often or not, everyone uses RP as an escape just as they play games. Don't sacrifice, don't lose yourself or not give self-love for what makes you passionate, don’t neglect yourself in taking control of being empowered and attaining friendships, fun, or treating yourself to something new to possibly take something lovely out of finding RP can be and make it all positive for yourself. Myself? I’m inspired by every person new and old who’s been in this game. I love it, do I bleed for it as my canvas? By the Twelve you know it! I’m only ever going to write stories and continue to build and grow, to learn. To do anything to give back. When a passion gives you life, you show that thankfulness by blazing that flame. My last question would be: Is there anything else you wanted to add or say to people? Kuro:  Nope. Rest boils to the decisions you pave yourself and if you want to take the plunge. Just know you're worthy, valid, and this place isn't and never will be one batch or selective, It’s not too late ever there’s no expiration to get into RP, there’s a reason RP last longer than the lifespan of the game’s even when they’ve hit the lowest of lows in dry content, there’s always been unity. If there's one thing this community does well it’s looking after one another.And If they fail to deliver. I know there are people like me who'd rather raise up then pound down.You got this, champs. And that was my interview with Kuro. Looking at his answers, there is a lot that i can agree with. The community of FFXIV is a very great one. If one person is down or needs help, the FFXIV community is the first one to jump up and help with what they can. Hence, its why i made this! To help you, reading this. Just remember, that there are always people out there that are willing to help you. And a person such as Kuro, and of course, myself, will do whatever we can to help those in need. Thank you all so much for the support, and i hope you all have a good day. Also! If you are a RPer, and you would like to be interviewed too, let me know! Send me a message over here on Tumblr, or add me on discord: Masao#2913. And feel free to ask anything related to RP, or even FFXIV. Hope you all are looking forward to the next one~

[skyhooks-notebook]

My John Wick/Jason Bourne movie which will never be made

(Bourne, of course, is a brutally disillusioned idealist. He had no idea he was signing away his soul. Wick likely sold his soul with his eyes wide open, though he probably only understood the ultimate cost later on - a naive pragmatist.)

I don’t post much at all, but here is a thing that happened on my computer. I was thinking about how John Wick and Jason Bourne could be brought together. My thoughts became long, and I started writing it down. This isn’t a story, just a sketch of how I think such a movie could be made. It’s not really edited either, this is all off-the-cuff.

[I only know what’s in the movies. I don’t know other canon from either ‘verse.]

So, if I were making a movie…

The universes of John Wick and Jason Bourne have very different styles, creating a problem.

Problem: - Bourne lives in a Universe where government is large, powerful, knowledgeable and nearly competent. - Wick lives in a Universe where a vast and elaborate criminal underworld exists, where we’ve never seen those major criminal figures worry about law enforcement or government.

The discrepancy must be resolved.

Simple.

Jason Bourne has never dealt with crime. Everything has been political and confined to the intelligence community.

Wick has never dealt with politics or the intelligence community.

So.

We must assume that the intelligence community is perfectly happy to leave common crime in the hands of law enforcement.

- Law enforcement has an unwritten and fatalistic attitude that there will always be some level of crime no matter what you do because it’s innate to human nature. And if you’re going to have crime, it might as well be organized. Let the strongest and most dangerous criminals accumulate power and influence, because they will go a long way to controlling the stupid, the excessive and the disruptive crooks. Better to have one major weapons trafficker controlling the traffic than have a thousand slightly smaller and more disruptive dealers completely out of control. (You can strongly hint that there’s an uneasy, unwritten and largely unspoken agreement between crime and law enforcement, and that it’s often a two-way street.) And if the big crime gets too big, it’s easier to knock it back down to “acceptable” levels because you’ve got bigger targets, which are easier to hit and which make a large and impressive splash across the front page when you throw RICO charges at them.

Plus it would also illustrate that Wickian Law Enforcement at its highest levels is just as dirty, amoral and underhanded as the Bournite Intelligence community.

- So, with a little work and willing suspension of disbelief (which wouldn’t be hard, because who wouldn’t want to see Wick and Bourne on the same screen provided it’s done with at least half an ass), it’s possible to bring the two Universes together.

- We start with Bourne. Someone else, like an hard ass, experienced reporter, is snooping into the government’s history of creating conditioned assassins. Maybe because a public face, like a former intelligence director, has left the shade to become a politician. And many strongly suspect that he’s dirty as fuck, but our snoopy reporter is just figuring out how deep the rabbit hole goes. Our politician was, of course, instrumental in developing programs like Treadstone, Blackbriar, et al.

- The Snoop finds out, one way or another, that one of the earliest failures of these programs was an “asset” who experienced a psychological break, went “off the res”, starting killing people and still turns up now and then to kill more people. To our Snoop, it appears that the government has created an uncontrollable monster who is still on the loose and possibly lurking right outside the White House, dear reader, are you scared now?

- The story, scanty, incorrect and harshly spun, gets printed as above. A few names are named, but mostly dead people (and maybe someone who has already been publicly discredited.) Our politician is not named because our Snoop doesn’t yet have absolute proof linking Mr. Politician to the Treadstone/Blackbriar/etc. machine.

- The evidence still exists. Witnesses still live, in numbers too great to be cleanly eliminated.

- Mr. Politician is sweating bullets.

- The Snoop isn’t done. He wants to find Bourne so he can say, “Here’s your monster, where’s my Pulitzer?” As investigation continues, the story becomes clearer to the Snoop, and the monster starts to look like little less monstrous and little more victimized. Which is an even better story.

- Now Mr. Politician is not only worried that he will be named, he’s worried that if Snoop makes contact with Bourne, or simply as a consequence of Snoop stirring the shit, Bourne will find out who our Politician is and how complicit he was in the program that destroyed David Webb. Mr. Pol knows this is likely to be a death sentence.

- It has become obvious to everyone who isn’t deeply deluded that Jason Bourne is practically indestructible and that sending more valuable and increasingly scarce ‘assets’ against him is just going to result in the loss of those assets. Agents available may be trained and conditioned to within an inch of their lives, but Bourne’s psychological break caused him to exceed his limits, training and conditioning in a way Black Ops programs haven’t been able to replicate. Those with a pragmatic attitude believe that they have no agent who can measure up to Bourne. Politician believes this as well.

- But Mr. Politician knows some things that the intelligence community has never concerned itself with. In his many years of government service, Mr. Pol was also involved with Law Enforcement at various times. Maybe he did a stint with the effa-bee-eye. Whatever. He knows about the Criminal Underworld, he knows that to maintain the ugly equilibrium, the Underworld may be influenced to comply with certain requests. And he knows a name. John Wick.

- Mr. Politician is also savvy about recent developments in the Underworld. He’s got a friend who’s still in the business of monitoring organized crime and keeping tabs on what’s going on down there. Mr. Pol has listened to recent stories with fascination because of certain similarities to a well known government failure who has haunted his dreams for decades. It has become a fact in Mr. Pol’s mind that the CIA will never be able to take down Bourne, but maybe there’s another way.

- Mr. Politician approaches a major Crime Lord and tells him point blank to activate John Wick by any means necessary and set him on the trail of one Jason Bourne. If Wick can’t be activated, Crime Lord will receive his own personal set of extensive criminal and RICO charges, delivered to his doorstep by the entire FBI

- Crime Lord knows if he gets charged, he probably won’t survive because other crime lords are going to want to make sure he doesn’t talk - about them. Also, his family will be endangered no matter which way the sword swings; either the FBI will be targeting them or his fellow criminals will be.

- Crime Lord knows John Wick. They’re old friends. Crime Lord feels a bit conflicted about it, but his first loyalties are to his family and his own hide. So he swallows his fondness for John Wick and commits falsehood, deception, a calling in of favors, maybe a little blackmail and the old Rock-And-A-Hard-Fuck-You-Up-Place on Wick. An elaborate, manipulative lie, that sets a misinformed John Wick on the trail of a man potentially as dangerous as himself.

- Now, we’ve got Jason Bourne being hunted by the Snoop, which has him on alert. We have John Wick hunting Bourne because he believes, once again, that he has no choice.

- We also have a Jason Bourne who is somewhat confounded. We need the scene where Bourne finds out, before contact ever takes place, that someone has taken out a contract on him with an Underworld assassin. Bourne doesn’t know much more about the Criminal Underworld than Joe Schmoe from Kokomo, just what he’s seen in the news and largely ignored, because it never had anything to do with him. Even in all that training years and years ago, there was this gap, because organized crime wasn’t the CIA’s beat. Maybe at first, Bourne even assumes that this Wick character isn’t a threat because he’s just a murderer, a thug, and not a highly trained government operative like himself.

- So in a riveting scene where Bourne and Wick first come into contact, we see Bourne - under the influence of his ignorant assumption - nearly getting killed by Wick and making an extremely narrow escape by use of desperate measures. We also have Mr. Wick limping away, suitably impressed with the skills of his opponent.

- Now we have that stretch of the story where Wick is on the hunt, Bourne is on the run and Bourne is trying to uncover any information he can find about this assassin. Wick doesn’t research much, though, because that’s not how he works. Bourne is a machine; the gears must grind. Wick is a force of nature, like a tornado; most of the info he gets he just picks up along the way, either paying for it or having it given to him by friends.

- Bourne discovers that Wick had a military past, Special Forces, maybe he was fucked over by the military/government in his own way. Or Bourne sees it that way. Bourne finds out about Helen and her death, and maybe not the whole story, but quite a bit about how John cut through a small army of Russian mob mooks for vengeance. He identifies with Wick’s grief and anger. He sees something of himself in John Wick. He sympathizes with the devil.

- John hasn’t done the heavy research. He understands that Bourne is dangerous, perhaps more dangerous than anyone he’s ever met. He consolidates his resources and finds someone else to do his research. He is awaiting a report on Jason Bourne when…

- Bourne stops running, goes to confront Wick and ends up trying to explain, while fighting of course, what he knows about the Dirty Politician and the Crime Lord who has called John out of his troubled retirement yet again, and how Wick has been used and betrayed (this time) until he says something that causes Wick to call truce long enough to hear it all.

- Bourne can see the beginning of a way to solve the whole mess. After some persuasion, Wick is on board and has some ideas of his own.

- Now we’ve got our boys on the same side and it’s only left to decide whether the war will be conventional or nuclear.

- There are two victories we need to see. We must see the destruction of Mr. Politician and Mr. Crime Lord.

- You might-could send Bourne, who doesn’t really give a shit about the covenants and conventions of the criminal world, to the Continental - probably breaking in, instead of checking in. Luring the Crime Lord out into the open, perhaps on the intimation that Mr. Politician is about to take up backstabbing. Draw the Crime Lord out to confront the Politician. Bourne’s plan, reluctantly agreed to by Wick, is to draw the Politician and the Crime Lord together, get evidence and even a full recording of the meeting and expose them both to the world.

Or course, this backfires. Bourne finds himself in a position where he has to kill either Crime Lord or Mr. Politician in self-defense. Probably the Crime Lord.

- It would also be immensely satisfying to see Wick take out the dirty politician with a head shot. Bourne would, of course, be stoically pissed about it all, but it also illustrates the difference. Bourne is willing to let even unrepentant bastards live because he’s tired of having blood on his hands. Wick doesn’t let anybody live who’s fucked him over. Bourne is still conflicted about who and what he is. Wick has come to terms with himself. Bourne believes in atonement. Wick believes in damnation. Bourne still cares. Wick doesn’t give a fuck. Bourne still dreams of inner peace. Wick would settle for a little peace and quiet, would you motherfuckers just leave me the fuck alone already. Get off my lawn. And stop teasing my dog, you bastards.

(Bourne, of course, is a brutally disillusioned idealist. He had no idea he was signing away his soul. Wick likely sold his soul with his eyes wide open, though he probably only understood the ultimate cost later on - a naive pragmatist.)

- You must also show Wick taking an active role in planning, because if Bourne does all of it and says here’s what we’re going to do, then 1) he’s just using Wick as a tool or weapon, instead of treating him like a person and an equal and 2) Wick once again is being controlled by someone else instead of doing what he does best, which is take matters into his own hands (shooting Santino may have looked like a misstep, but who in the audience didn’t love it?)

- I’ve forgotten our Snoop reporter.

We could let Bourne track him down, in which case he will almost certainly die, because going by canon everybody who sympathizes with Jason Bourne must die.

We could let Wick find him, in which case he probably has a much better chance of surviving to publish his Pulitzer Prize winning story provided he’s not armed when he meets Mr. Wick. Hell, Wick could give him a coin, which could buy him entrance and protection at the Continental (even the government doesn’t want to mess with that bunch - like stirring a hornet’s nest with a stick; you might survive, but it will be excruciatingly painful and you’ll look like an idiot the whole time with all the screaming and flailing and jumping around in a panic.)

John Wick’s name will not appear in the story. Only a vaguely defined “other sources”.

- And after all is said and done, Bourne and Wick part company, with mutual respect and recognition. Though they really don’t like each other very much.

So that’s my John Wick/Jason Bourne movie which will never be made. But I had fun.

P.S. Please excuse crappy photoshop, I just wanted something there.

[darquedeath4444]

Ripples

Chapter THREE

Karin's cry of Sasuke's name was drowned out by the sound of the Uchiha roughly hitting the ground.

"Time for my thunder to put you six feet under." The Jinchuuriki moved forward, his hand outstretched.

Suigetsu swore under his breath. In the next second, the Hozuki appeared beside Sasuke, sword held out in front of him. The Kubikiribocho met the Hachibi's sword, locking it into place.

The Kumo nin charged lightning through his blade and Suigetsu gritted his teeth.

"Sui-nii!" Sakura called out.

Lightning was any Hozuki's main weakness. Their ability to change into water made them extremely vulnerable to water.

Sasuke scrambled to his feet and reached out. He used his own lightning chakra to hold the Jinchuuriki's blade in place. Jugo appeared behind the man and landed a heavy blow that left him off balance. Karin moved in and pulled Sasuke away from under the locked blades.

Suigetsu applied more pressure, breaking through the Hachibi's sword. Jugo swung his fist, sending the Jinchuuriki flying.

Sakura moved in to cover as Karin healed Sasuke. She hadn't fought alongside her brother for a long time but old training routines that she had gone through alongside her brothers came back to her and her body automatically fell into step with Suigetsu.

The moment his wound had closed, Sasuke moved back to join the fight. Sakura's mind flew through all of the fighting strategies and scenarios she had seen. Almost nothing she knew actually came from her, but this gave her a wide range of techniques and strategies that came from all over the Shinobi nations.

She jumped in to deflect a blow for the raven, allowing Sasuke to slip under the Kumo nin’s defense in an almost perfect replication of a move she had seen him perform with Naruto many many years ago. The Jinchuuriki's fist came towards her and as Sakura's stomach erupted into water, she had a brief flashback of Suigetsu blocking the Kumo nin's sword and how the Hachibi had charged lightning through her brother. Water wrapped around the Jinchuuriki's arm and began to crawl up the limb.

"Sasuke!" Sakura called urgently, catching the Uchiha's attention. "Hit both of us!"

Sakura knew her immunity against lightning was far superior to Suigetsu. During clan training immunity to lightning attacks was something they did. Still, adjusted wrongly and it could lead to death and so, it wasn't a major part of it. However, Kabuto had ways of adjusting the lightning chakra so that its strength was never strong enough to kill. Being Kabuto's punch back for years, Sakura was more used to it.

Didn't mean it didn't hurt, though.

The Jinchuuriki tried to pull back as Sasuke darted up to them but Sakura held on. She felt her hair rise at the electricity that cackled behind her.

"Chidori!"

The Jinchuuriki, caught off guard, screamed out in pain as lightning ran through him, amplified by the water surrounding him.

Sakura had managed to hold back her own cry but her mouth wrenched open in a soundless scream, eyes wide.

When Sasuke cut off his attack, the Eight tails Jinchuuriki fell to his knees. Sakura managed to scramble back a few feet before her own legs gave way. She felt Sasuke appear by her side and an arm loop around her waist, holding her up even as she fell limp. She caught a glimpse of Jugo flying down from the sky before Sasuke tightened his grip and jumped out of the way of Jugo's hammer blow that created a huge crater. When the smoke cleared, Sakura realized the Kumo Jinchuuriki was gone.

Sasuke lowered her to the ground and Suigetsu was at her side in an instant, worry in his eyes.

"Karin," Sasuke called.

"I know." The redhead made a hand sign. She then pointed towards one of the surrounding rocky mountains. "He's over there!"

Sasuke leaped onto Jugo's transformed arm and was launched into the air. The Uchiha charged lightning chakra to his feet, powering his leap as he flew towards the Jinchuuriki.

"You okay?" Suigetsu asked.

"I'm fine." Sakura licked her lips. "My tongue feels weird." She stuck it out.

"Idiot." Suigetsu looked up towards where Sasuke had flown.

Suddenly, a tremendous pressure of chakra crashed upon them. They were too far to actually feel the full effects, but everyone still felt it.

"What?" Suigetsu placed a hand protectively on his sister's shoulder and gripped his sword.

The huge body of chakra began approaching them. "Uh oh," Sakura muttered.

In the next second, Jugo turned around. He knocked Suigetsu and Sakura into the lake beyond the rocks and grabbed Karin, dragging her away just before the Jinchuuriki's attack landed.

Sasuke landed just as the earthquakes stopped. "You alright?"

"Somehow," Karin replied.

Suigetsu popped his head out of the water, his body halfway transformed into water. Sakura appeared beside him a second later.

Sasuke nodded and looked up. "Karin, I need you to follow his chakra signature and tell us his location at all times." Just as he had finished his orders, the Hachibi appeared from the smoke, his chakra leaking from him.

Sasuke's eyes shifted and the Jinchuuriki stiffened midair before swerved to the side, falling to the ground. Sasuke took a deep breath and covered his eye, and had just turned around when the Jinchuuriki caught him by the torso, sending him flying.

The Hachibi slowly straightened himself.

Jugo flew forward, catching the Uchiha before he could crash into the wall behind him. Karin rushed over, about to heal him, but Jugo stopped her. "I've got this."

"What are you going to do?" Karin asked.

"I'll merge with him to give him chakra and heal him," Jugo said. "Since he's compatible with my curse mark, it should work."

"The Jinchuuriki's chakra." Sakura murmured. "It's changing."

Suigetsu turned his attention from Sasuke to the Jinchuuriki, who was, in fact, changing. Octopus-like tails sprouted from behind him and smoke rose into the air. Sakura felt a tremendous chakra force grow from within, and when it died down, her eyes widened in horror.

"That's the eight tails," Suigetsu whispered.

"Tailed Beast mode," Sakura said.

"So a monster ox. That's his true form." Suigetsu clicked his tongue then grabbed his sister and dragged them both under water.

"Really?" Sakura murmured.

"Sorry." Suigetsu grinned. “I kinda like them.”

"Yeah, whatever." Sakura smiled.

Jugo and Karin turned to look at the sudden looming threat. "Isn't this bad?" Karin asked nervously.

The Hachibi turned towards them but before anyone could react, a ball of water erupted in front of him.

"I knew you were water style shinobi," the beast said. "Trying to use the turf to your advantage?"

The Hachibi charged at the sphere and Suigetsu gritted his teeth. "Sakura!"

The pinkette appeared behind the Hachibi, surrounded by water in the form of a dragon. She bared down on the Kumo nin, causing a wave to go up.

"Go!" Suigetsu yelled. "We've got this!"

Jugo nodded and grabbed Sasuke. Karin scrambled to her feet as well. Sakura confirmed that the three had begun their retreat before bearing down on the octopus again.

The Hachibi drew back a little and let out a roar. Chakra began to gather about his open mouth and Sakura watched the black thing begin to gather above the Hachibi's open mouth.

"Sakura!" Suigetsu called.

"On it!"

Suigetsu braced himself for the surely powerful attack to come. Sakura vanished under water and appeared behind Suigetsu's water bubble. She moved back so that she was right above Sasuke and the others, her dragon water form allowing her to loom over them. She then coiled herself behind them, eyes narrowed and teeth gritted in concentration.

The blast of the attack they would later come to know as the 'Biju dama' seemed to tear through Suigetsu's defensive sphere. Sakura flinched but stayed rooted to her spot, her arms spread and her water dragon tightening its coils. She reached out with the corner of consciousness and yanked an unconscious Suigetsu away from the blast.

"Goddammit, Ugly." The attack hit her water from straight on. A scream was torn from her as the pure pressure behind the attack crushed her. Her body felt stiff and even though she was half merged with the water it felt as though her limbs were being crushed.

It seemed like forever before the attack died away. Sakura faintly noted that the rocky terrain around them had mostly given way to water before her form slowly began to dissolve. She landed on the surface of the lake, on top of her unconscious brother and let out a soft groan. She felt Sasuke, Karin and Jugo gather around but she could barely make out what they were saying. She placed her arms protectively on either side of Suigetsu's goo form, breathing heavily.

“Ouch,” she managed to get out.

"Suigetsu...Sakura..." Karin placed a hand on Sakura's shaking shoulder and flinched away when it automatically turned gooey.

Sasuke gently yanked Sakura off Suigetsu, who Jugo picked up. Sasuke dropped her barely conscious form over his shoulder.

Sakura blinked harshly as the earth spun around her. Just as the world had stopped moving, she felt Sasuke make a sudden move, and once again, she was left dizzy. Once the Uchiha had landed, Sakura noticed that it had been Karin who had pushed them away. She was staring at the black flames when she caught sight of the octopus limb that began falling on top of the red-haired girl and slowly raised her arm, willing the water to comply.

Sasuke was faster though. He knocked Sakura's arm away before cutting the arm with lightning. "Karin, run!" He yelled.

Sakura felt as though gravity was pushing against her mind and she let out a soft groan of pain which she wasn't able to hold back. She felt herself slipping from the Uchiha's grip and was grateful that they were on water. It didn't hurt though she did land with a splash. Sasuke fell to one knee beside her and she saw him clutching at his eye.

"Jugo, get Karin. Hurry!"

Jugo did as told, gently planting the girl on his other shoulder.

Sakura rolled over, breathing heavily. The water felt wonderful beneath her.

"The Hachibi's in bad shape," Jugo said. "But we managed to get him without killing him."

Sasuke glanced down at the girl lying on the water and she smiled softly at him. "Go get him," she said. "I'll be fine in a while, I think."

Sasuke nodded and he went over to grab the Hachibi. Sakura slowly managed to sit up, her whole body feeling as though it was on fire. Jugo stopped by her side and she looked up, noting that he looked younger than before. Sasuke reached them in the next second and Sakura wince, forcing herself to her feet. Sasuke's hand shot out to catch her as she stumbled and she couldn't stop herself from grabbing onto his sleeve. "Sorry" she wheezed.

Sasuke grunted and waited for her to gather her balance between they slowly began to make their way away from the rocky terrain.

Their progress was slow, and Sakura knew that it was her that was slowing them down the most. Even with all their injuries and the extra weights they were carrying, Jugo and Sasuke managed to travel at a steady pace.

Sakura cursed the sun, knowing that the heat was contributing to her fatigue. She felt her knees give way again and just about managed to stabilize herself before she collapsed. She knew that once she fell, she wouldn't be able to get up.

"Almost there," Jugo encouraged quietly.

Sakura nodded to show that she had heard. She was eternally grateful when Sasuke decided to rest. He dumped the unconscious Jinchuuriki onto the floor then sat down on a rock, breathing heavily.

Sakura collapsed nearby, once again cursing the sun. She took out her flask and greedily gulped down its content.

Jugo eyed the Uchiha worriedly. "You okay?" He asked.

Sasuke nodded. "Let's go," he said. "We're almost at the rendezvous point."

Sakura could feel herself moving, but she was no longer aware of her surroundings. Once in a while, she could feel someone nudging her and she changed directions according to that. Suddenly, she felt someone lifting her. For a moment, her eyes focused, fueled by panic, only to instantly relax when she saw the familiar face of Uchiha Sasuke. She then felt herself falling and hit water.

Sakura took a deep breath before she was pulled under, already feeling refreshed as the liquid brushed at her skin. She felt another splash and instantly recognized it as Suigetsu.

The water would protect them and it would heal them. Relieved, she allowed herself to close her eyes.

Chapter FOUR>

<Chapter TWO

Chapter List

[skyhook-sly]

My John Wick/Jason Bourne movie which will never be made

(Bourne, of course, is a brutally disillusioned idealist. He had no idea he was signing away his soul. Wick likely sold his soul with his eyes wide open, though he probably only understood the ultimate cost later on - a naive pragmatist.)

I don’t post much at all, but here is a thing that happened on my computer. I was thinking about how John Wick and Jason Bourne could be brought together. My thoughts became long, and I started writing it down. This isn’t a story, just a sketch of how I think such a movie could be made. It’s not really edited either, this is all off-the-cuff.

[I only know what’s in the movies. I don’t know other canon from either ‘verse.]

So, if I were making a movie…

The universes of John Wick and Jason Bourne have very different styles, creating a problem.

Problem: - Bourne lives in a Universe where government is large, powerful, knowledgeable and nearly competent. - Wick lives in a Universe where a vast and elaborate criminal underworld exists, where we’ve never seen those major criminal figures worry about law enforcement or government.

The discrepancy must be resolved.

Simple.

Jason Bourne has never dealt with crime. Everything has been political and confined to the intelligence community.

Wick has never dealt with politics or the intelligence community.

So.

We must assume that the intelligence community is perfectly happy to leave common crime in the hands of law enforcement.

- Law enforcement has an unwritten and fatalistic attitude that there will always be some level of crime no matter what you do because it’s innate to human nature. And if you’re going to have crime, it might as well be organized. Let the strongest and most dangerous criminals accumulate power and influence, because they will go a long way to controlling the stupid, the excessive and the disruptive crooks. Better to have one major weapons trafficker controlling the traffic than have a thousand slightly smaller and more disruptive dealers completely out of control. (You can strongly hint that there’s an uneasy, unwritten and largely unspoken agreement between crime and law enforcement, and that it’s often a two-way street.) And if the big crime gets too big, it’s easier to knock it back down to “acceptable” levels because you’ve got bigger targets, which are easier to hit and which make a large and impressive splash across the front page when you throw RICO charges at them.

Plus it would also illustrate that Wickian Law Enforcement at its highest levels is just as dirty, amoral and underhanded as the Bournite Intelligence community.

- So, with a little work and willing suspension of disbelief (which wouldn’t be hard, because who wouldn’t want to see Wick and Bourne on the same screen provided it’s done with at least half an ass), it’s possible to bring the two Universes together.

- We start with Bourne. Someone else, like an hard ass, experienced reporter, is snooping into the government’s history of creating conditioned assassins. Maybe because a public face, like a former intelligence director, has left the shade to become a politician. And many strongly suspect that he’s dirty as fuck, but our snoopy reporter is just figuring out how deep the rabbit hole goes. Our politician was, of course, instrumental in developing programs like Treadstone, Blackbriar, et al.

- The Snoop finds out, one way or another, that one of the earliest failures of these programs was an “asset” who experienced a psychological break, went “off the res”, starting killing people and still turns up now and then to kill more people. To our Snoop, it appears that the government has created an uncontrollable monster who is still on the loose and possibly lurking right outside the White House, dear reader, are you scared now?

- The story, scanty, incorrect and harshly spun, gets printed as above. A few names are named, but mostly dead people (and maybe someone who has already been publicly discredited.) Our politician is not named because our Snoop doesn’t yet have absolute proof linking Mr. Politician to the Treadstone/Blackbriar/etc. machine.

- The evidence still exists. Witnesses still live, in numbers too great to be cleanly eliminated.

- Mr. Politician is sweating bullets.

- The Snoop isn’t done. He wants to find Bourne so he can say, “Here’s your monster, where’s my Pulitzer?” As investigation continues, the story becomes clearer to the Snoop, and the monster starts to look like little less monstrous and little more victimized. Which is an even better story.

- Now Mr. Politician is not only worried that he will be named, he’s worried that if Snoop makes contact with Bourne, or simply as a consequence of Snoop stirring the shit, Bourne will find out who our Politician is and how complicit he was in the program that destroyed David Webb. Mr. Pol knows this is likely to be a death sentence.

- It has become obvious to everyone who isn’t deeply deluded that Jason Bourne is practically indestructible and that sending more valuable and increasingly scarce 'assets’ against him is just going to result in the loss of those assets. Agents available may be trained and conditioned to within an inch of their lives, but Bourne’s psychological break caused him to exceed his limits, training and conditioning in a way Black Ops programs haven’t been able to replicate. Those with a pragmatic attitude believe that they have no agent who can measure up to Bourne. Politician believes this as well.

- But Mr. Politician knows some things that the intelligence community has never concerned itself with. In his many years of government service, Mr. Pol was also involved with Law Enforcement at various times. Maybe he did a stint with the effa-bee-eye. Whatever. He knows about the Criminal Underworld, he knows that to maintain the ugly equilibrium, the Underworld may be influenced to comply with certain requests. And he knows a name. John Wick.

- Mr. Politician is also savvy about recent developments in the Underworld. He’s got a friend who’s still in the business of monitoring organized crime and keeping tabs on what’s going on down there. Mr. Pol has listened to recent stories with fascination because of certain similarities to a well known government failure who has haunted his dreams for decades. It has become a fact in Mr. Pol’s mind that the CIA will never be able to take down Bourne, but maybe there’s another way.

- Mr. Politician approaches a major Crime Lord and tells him point blank to activate John Wick by any means necessary and set him on the trail of one Jason Bourne. If Wick can’t be activated, Crime Lord will receive his own personal set of extensive criminal and RICO charges, delivered to his doorstep by the entire FBI

- Crime Lord knows if he gets charged, he probably won’t survive because other crime lords are going to want to make sure he doesn’t talk - about them. Also, his family will be endangered no matter which way the sword swings; either the FBI will be targeting them or his fellow criminals will be.

- Crime Lord knows John Wick. They’re old friends. Crime Lord feels a bit conflicted about it, but his first loyalties are to his family and his own hide. So he swallows his fondness for John Wick and commits falsehood, deception, a calling in of favors, maybe a little blackmail and the old Rock-And-A-Hard-Fuck-You-Up-Place on Wick. An elaborate, manipulative lie, that sets a misinformed John Wick on the trail of a man potentially as dangerous as himself.

- Now, we’ve got Jason Bourne being hunted by the Snoop, which has him on alert. We have John Wick hunting Bourne because he believes, once again, that he has no choice.

- We also have a Jason Bourne who is somewhat confounded. We need the scene where Bourne finds out, before contact ever takes place, that someone has taken out a contract on him with an Underworld assassin. Bourne doesn’t know much more about the Criminal Underworld than Joe Schmoe from Kokomo, just what he’s seen in the news and largely ignored, because it never had anything to do with him. Even in all that training years and years ago, there was this gap, because organized crime wasn’t the CIA’s beat. Maybe at first, Bourne even assumes that this Wick character isn’t a threat because he’s just a murderer, a thug, and not a highly trained government operative like himself.

- So in a riveting scene where Bourne and Wick first come into contact, we see Bourne - under the influence of his ignorant assumption - nearly getting killed by Wick and making an extremely narrow escape by use of desperate measures. We also have Mr. Wick limping away, suitably impressed with the skills of his opponent.

- Now we have that stretch of the story where Wick is on the hunt, Bourne is on the run and Bourne is trying to uncover any information he can find about this assassin. Wick doesn’t research much, though, because that’s not how he works. Bourne is a machine; the gears must grind. Wick is a force of nature, like a tornado; most of the info he gets he just picks up along the way, either paying for it or having it given to him by friends.

- Bourne discovers that Wick had a military past, Special Forces, maybe he was fucked over by the military/government in his own way. Or Bourne sees it that way. Bourne finds out about Helen and her death, and maybe not the whole story, but quite a bit about how John cut through a small army of Russian mob mooks for vengeance. He identifies with Wick’s grief and anger. He sees something of himself in John Wick. He sympathizes with the devil.

- John hasn’t done the heavy research. He understands that Bourne is dangerous, perhaps more dangerous than anyone he’s ever met. He consolidates his resources and finds someone else to do his research. He is awaiting a report on Jason Bourne when…

- Bourne stops running, goes to confront Wick and ends up trying to explain, while fighting of course, what he knows about the Dirty Politician and the Crime Lord who has called John out of his troubled retirement yet again, and how Wick has been used and betrayed (this time) until he says something that causes Wick to call truce long enough to hear it all.

- Bourne can see the beginning of a way to solve the whole mess. After some persuasion, Wick is on board and has some ideas of his own.

- Now we’ve got our boys on the same side and it’s only left to decide whether the war will be conventional or nuclear.

- There are two victories we need to see. We must see the destruction of Mr. Politician and Mr. Crime Lord.

- You might-could send Bourne, who doesn’t really give a shit about the covenants and conventions of the criminal world, to the Continental - probably breaking in, instead of checking in. Luring the Crime Lord out into the open, perhaps on the intimation that Mr. Politician is about to take up backstabbing. Draw the Crime Lord out to confront the Politician. Bourne’s plan, reluctantly agreed to by Wick, is to draw the Politician and the Crime Lord together, get evidence and even a full recording of the meeting and expose them both to the world.

Or course, this backfires. Bourne finds himself in a position where he has to kill either Crime Lord or Mr. Politician in self-defense. Probably the Crime Lord.

- It would also be immensely satisfying to see Wick take out the dirty politician with a head shot. Bourne would, of course, be stoically pissed about it all, but it also illustrates the difference. Bourne is willing to let even unrepentant bastards live because he’s tired of having blood on his hands. Wick doesn’t let anybody live who’s fucked him over. Bourne is still conflicted about who and what he is. Wick has come to terms with himself. Bourne believes in atonement. Wick believes in damnation. Bourne still cares. Wick doesn’t give a fuck. Bourne still dreams of inner peace. Wick would settle for a little peace and quiet, would you motherfuckers just leave me the fuck alone already. Get off my lawn. And stop teasing my dog, you bastards.

(Bourne, of course, is a brutally disillusioned idealist. He had no idea he was signing away his soul. Wick likely sold his soul with his eyes wide open, though he probably only understood the ultimate cost later on - a naive pragmatist.)

- You must also show Wick taking an active role in planning, because if Bourne does all of it and says here’s what we’re going to do, then 1) he’s just using Wick as a tool or weapon, instead of treating him like a person and an equal and 2) Wick once again is being controlled by someone else instead of doing what he does best, which is take matters into his own hands (shooting Santino may have looked like a misstep, but who in the audience didn’t love it?)

- I’ve forgotten our Snoop reporter.

We could let Bourne track him down, in which case he will almost certainly die, because going by canon everybody who sympathizes with Jason Bourne must die.

We could let Wick find him, in which case he probably has a much better chance of surviving to publish his Pulitzer Prize winning story provided he’s not armed when he meets Mr. Wick. Hell, Wick could give him a coin, which could buy him entrance and protection at the Continental (even the government doesn’t want to mess with that bunch - like stirring a hornet’s nest with a stick; you might survive, but it will be excruciatingly painful and you’ll look like an idiot the whole time with all the screaming and flailing and jumping around in a panic.)

John Wick’s name will not appear in the story. Only a vaguely defined “other sources”.

- And after all is said and done, Bourne and Wick part company, with mutual respect and recognition. Though they really don’t like each other very much.

So that’s my John Wick/Jason Bourne movie which will never be made. But I had fun.

P.S. Please excuse crappy photoshop, I just wanted something there.

[lalainajanes]

hi, could you do a Hogwarts AU + sex pollen?

By Accident or Design

Carolinestirs when she feels a warm hand on her arm, a quiet groan spilling from herlips, “Mm, no,” she slurs, “Five more minutes.”

The softlaugh that follows is familiar though it’s only recently she’s begun to hearit. She’d been a little startled, and very pleased with herself, the first timeshe managed to make him laugh with something other than derision.

Six monthsago she’d first been introduced to Klaus Mikaelson, informed by her boss thathe was the newest hire, and that since she was between projects it would be herresponsibility to get him acclimated and bring him up to speed on the potionsthey were currently working on. Caroline hadn’t really minded until they got to the part where he’d besharing her lab.

She’d had beena month of blissful solitude, no one touching her stuff or interrupting herwhen she was thinking and she’d mourned the end of an era. Her previous labmate, a creep named Damon Salvatore had been fired for spending too much timeon his personal projects – attempting to improve the hangover cures readilyavailable – and not enough on those he’d been assigned.

Carolinehad suspected, and rumors had persisted, that he was also abusing the sharedingredients cupboards and brewing glamor potions that hid his late nights andbad habits. He always reeked of muggle mouthwash and cologne, fooling no one.

She’d saida silent prayer that Klaus would be less of a hassle, pasted on a smile, andoffered him her hand.

Handshakes,Caroline’s father had always said, could tell you all sorts of things about aperson. Somehow she didn’t think that the not so pure images that had flittedthrough her mind once she’d noted Klaus’ long fingers and warm palms, had beenwhat he’d meant at the time.

Klaus hadbeen watchful, spoke few words but listened intently, as she’d introducedherself and led him to the rooms they’d be sharing. He’d been polite enough,answered her questions about where he was from (the accent was a dead giveaway,along with the suit. Caroline kept things business casual but some of hercoworkers put in far less effort).

She’d beenreasonably sure that the transition wouldn’t be too terrible.

Untilthey’d actually gotten to work. Initially things had been… challenging.Caroline liked order, firmly believed that everything had a place. Klaus’ stylewas somewhat more freeform. Fights had been numerous. He liked the wizardingwireless, she preferred to plug her phone into the speakers she’d charmed.Klaus’ workspace was chaotic though he seemed to have little trouble navigatingwhile Caroline’s was spotless and she’d liberally attacked it with a labelmaker.

Theydisagreed about techniques, Klaus favored more traditional potion making, his purebloodupbringing, Hogwarts education, and apprenticeship more strict than andregimented than hers had been. Caroline had always been encouraged toexperiment, test out substitutions, something that Klaus was only now slowlycoming around to since it was kind of required in his current job description.

She couldadmit that he was actually good at it, intuitive and creative and that he got great results. She’d probably even sayit to his face these days, now that they’d almost become friends.

They’dmostly operated in polite silence for the first month of Klaus’ employment,save for the frequent bouts of bickering. At one point she’d drawn a shimmeryline splitting the room, including the battered couch along one wall and therefrigerator where they kept personal items, into two equal halves.

Klaushadn’t been amused by the brief jolt of pain he’d felt when he’d attempted tocross it. It was petty of her, Caroline could admit, but she’d have done worseif his stack of parchments slid over onto her things one more time.

Likestrangle him with her bare hands.

She’d halfexpected that Klaus had reported her when they’d both been called into theirsupervisor’s office. At the time she almost would have preferred a reprimand tothe news that she and Klaus were being given a joint assignment.

They couldbarely coexist. Working together seemed like a recipe for disaster and/ormayhem.

Or so she’dthought.

Threemonths later Caroline looked back on that project fondly. Once they’d managedto stop sniping at one another and cooperate (which, admittedly, had takenlonger than it probably should have) they’dmanaged to work well together and the atmosphere in their shared lab had thawedconsiderably.

They eventook turns picking the music.

Klausshakes her again gently and confusion fights through her sleepiness, “I believeyou’ll need a bit more than five minutes. You can’t have gotten much rest.”

She priesher eyes open with a great deal of difficulty and eyes him blearily, “Klaus?Why’re you in my bedroom?”

Another lowsound of amusement as he crouches so they’re at eye level. “I’m not,” he tellsher, smoothing her hair away from her face. “You’re at your desk. You fell asleep. Luckily your potion didn’tblow up though I’m certain it’ll be unusable. It’s nearly solid in your cauldron.”

This timeher groan is pure frustration and she knocks her forehead against herworktable. “Ugh, I was sure that Iwas on to something.”

Klausstands again, “And I’m sure your meticulous notes will allow you to replicateit later. After you’ve gotten a few proper hours of sleep.”

Carolineshakes her head, pushing herself to her feet as her mental to do list begins toswirl past her eyes, “I can’t. My deadline’s next week and I’ll have to do thewrite up after and…”

Klaus stepsin front of her, blocking her from her prep table, and Caroline shoots him aglare that has him holding up his hands innocently. Still, he doesn’t relent.“You have time, Caroline.”

“But whatif this one doesn’t work and I need to make moreadjustments?” she counters, reaching up to rub her eyes. She clenches her jawshut tight to disguise a yawn. “I’ll make some coffee. We’ve got Pepper Up inthe bathroom. It’ll be fine.”

Klaus isn’tconvinced. “You’ll be more likely to make mistakes if you’re exhausted, won’tyou? A bit of sleep might prevent a setback that’ll be more time consuming.”

She waversbecause he might have a point, damn him. She steps around him, walking over topeek in her cauldron, wincing when she sees the chalky brown sludge itcontains. That was not what she’dbeen going for. Klaus, likely sensing her weakness, presses harder, “You don’t evenhave to go home. An hour or two on the couch, love. I’ll be as quiet aspossible.”

The couch was deceptively comfortable. She’d takenmany excellent naps on it. Caroline sighs, reaching for her wand, “Two hours.Don’t let me sleep a minute more, okay?”

“Ipromise,” Klaus says, rocking a step back. He’s doing an awful job of hidinghis pleased expression but she decides to let it go. Considering he was attempting to look out for her andall. “Sleep well, Caroline.”

She managesa smile and drags her feet on her way to the couch. Her eyes had begun droopingas soon as she’d given in, her limbs heavy as she flops onto the couch. Shemanages the charm to darken the area immediately around her before curling intoa ball and letting herself drift off to the faint and familiar sounds of Klausmoving around the room.

She’sjolted out of sleep by a high pitched alarm. Caroline snatches up her wand and throwsherself into a sitting position, glancing around wildly. Klaus is cursing,harsh and rapid as he points his wand at the flame under his cauldron,attempting to get it under control. The cauldron shaking on its perch, smokingominously. She lurches to her feet, wracking her brain trying to remember justwhat Klaus was working on, how dangerous it might be and how she might help.

She’s aboutto ask if they should leave, throw up some shields and let it burn itself outbut she’s too late, several loud pops emerge from the cauldron before a thinpurple liquid splashes over the rim, dousing Klaus’ front. A few drops land onher arm, stinging her skin. Klaus yelps in pain and Caroline rushes to his side,shaking her arm until the sting fades. She summons their emergency kit, “Takeoff your shirt,” she orders. “What was in the potion?”

He starts,turning to look at her, “Don’t touchit, Caroline,” he snaps.

“What am I,an idiot?” she bites back, fishing a pair of gloves out of the kit. “I am fullyaware of basic potion safety, thank you. But it’s too late.” She lifts her arm,nods down to the purple streaks and reddened skin. “You took the brunt of it sowe’ll deal with me after. Now, shirt off.”

“Shit,”Klaus mutters, making no attempt to do as she’d asked, his eyes wide withsomething that resembles panic. Caroline tries to fight down her own answeringalarm.

Freakingout right now was not going to helpthem.

She snapsthe gloves on reasoning there’s no need to get more contaminated and reaches topeel Klaus’ shirt off herself. She glares until he lifts his arms and she pullsit clear, rushing over and shoving it in their hazardous waste bin. Shereturns, mutters a brief apology before she drenches him with an Aguamentispell, turning her wand on her own arm once she’s satisfied that Klaus has beenrinsed sufficiently.

“Now, what were you working on?” she prodsbriskly. “What are we looking at in terms of an antidote? Can we brew onequickly?”

Klaus issilent for a long moment, his expression twisted into something that’s almostlike… embarrassment.

Not anemotion she’d ever seen him display.

He mumblessomething, breaking her gaze and focusing on drying his jeans. “What was that?”Caroline asks.

He sighs,“The Arousal Elixir.”

It clicks, “Right!You’re trying to decrease the waiting time for it to kick in and figure outwhat’s causing that weird yellow rash some people have gotten.” He’d only beengiven the assignment the week before and hadn’t run into any major snags sothey’d only discussed it briefly. “You decided to tackle the waiting timefirst…”

“Because itseemed to merely be a matter of dicing certain ingredients smaller.”

“Whichmeans…?”

“That if mycalculations are correct I’ve gotten it down to fifteen minutes.”

Klaus’calculations usually were.

“And we’llbe feeling…” he trails off meaningfully and Caroline’s jaw drops.

She’d nevertried The Arousal Elixir herself – it was relatively new and it’s ingredientsprohibitively expensive. It had been marketed as something to put the spiceback into a marriage and Caroline assumed its primary consumers were oldercouples with an abundance of money.

“Aroused,”she stutters out, wincing at how stupid that probably sounds. “So we shouldprobably floo home real quick so we can… you know.”

Klausshakes his head. “We can’t. The exits sealed when the alarm rang.”

Caroline’snever hated the safety protocols more.

They havelimited options. Caroline lifts her chin, hatesthat she’s blushing. She and Klaus are both adults so they’re just going tohave to make the best of this. And try not to let it get awkward afterwards. Shewaits until he looks at her and flashes her brightest pageant smile, “So, doyou want the bathroom or the couch?”

She pacesfor several moments after the bathroom door has shut, running her hands throughher hair until she’s sure that her curls are a poufy mess. This is so not howshe’d anticipated her day going. It doesn’t take long before she begins to feelthe potions effects. She’s been going through a bit of a dry spell lately, hasmostly been taking care of her own needs. Still, the signs are familiar.

She fightsthe hitch in her breathing, picking up the pace as she strips off her cardiganand fans herself. She can feel her nipples tightening, bites her lip to hold ina moan as a slow throbbing begins low in her belly.

Damn thatstuff was potent. No wonder peopleshelled out serious cash.

Carolineeyes the door to the Klaus had disappeared behind as she makes her way to thecouch. Klaus had been surprisingly gentlemanly,  had offered to take the tiny, crampedbathroom, explaining that it was only fair since it had been his over stirringthat had caused the issue with the potion in the first place.

Somethingshe’d usually have teased him about (it wasn’t like him to get distracted) butshe hadn’t been able to form any sort of joke, too focused on the fact thathe’d still been shirtless.

The viewhad been very nice.

The anglesof his shoulders, the lean muscles of his torso and the indents of his hips,had been even better than she’d fantasized and she’d wanted to reach out andstroke, see if Klaus would twitch under her fingertips, if she could coax anoise of pleasure from him.

It had beenon the tip of her tongue to blurt out that maybe they should tackle this… problem as a team but she hadn’t beenable to force the words out. What if he’d said no? That would have gone down in the history books as Caroline’smost embarrassing moment ever andshe’d had some doozies as a teenager. She’d have had to quit her job and avoidhim for the rest of her life.

Maybe therewas something more… subtle she could try. Test the waters a little beforediving straight in.

Carolinerolls her wand between her fingertips contemplatively. She should put up a silencing spell, thrown on some music, and go onwith her business, leave Klaus to do his until the potion had run its course.

But what ifshe doesn’t?

Her bodypractically hums as the idea sinks in and she lets herself flop onto the couch,pressing her thighs together as the ache between them grows more insistent.

He was asmart guy. Caroline assumed he’d understand what it meant when she said his ‘Klaus’as she came.

She hearsthe door open, Klaus hadn’t been trying to be sneaky and, from the sound, sheimagines one of them will have to repair a hole he’s made in the wall with hisforce.

She glancesover at him, finds him gripping the frame and watching her hungrily, skin dampand eyes bright with need. She’s made herself comfortable, spread out along thelength of the couch with her head cushioned on the arm rest. She knows she mustlook thoroughly debauched, clothes askew and legs spread, two fingers pumpingin and out of her body. “Finally,” she breathes, sinking back into the couch.

She’d beena little timid at first, hadn’t managed to get much volume. Her first climaxhadn’t been particularly… relieving and her body’s needs had only grown moreinsistent. When she’d come the second time she’d practically screamed his name.

Why, shewonders, is he still standing all the way over there? And still wearing hispants?

Carolineblows her hair out of her face, pushing herself up on one elbow, not slowingthe motions of her other hand between her legs. “What?” she manages, voicehoarse, “do you need a written invitation?”

That doesthe trick. He pushes away from the bathroom, makes his way towards her in quickjerky steps. “Lose the pants,” she demands.

“Lose yourdress,” Klaus counters thickly.

Fairenough, Caroline decides, even though it hadn’t been covering much, pushed toher waist as it was.

She moans alittle as she sits up, pouting at the pang of discomfort that hits her once shestops touching herself. As quickly as she can Caroline shimmies her dress overher head and tosses it aside. Her bra’s been shoved askew by her wanderinghands but she unclips the back and slides it off her shoulders for goodmeasure. She’s unable to resist the temptation to tease him, and herself,palming a breast and worrying her nipple with her thumb. Her lips part on agasp as she lies back down, drawing her knees up and parting her thighs underKlaus’ avid gaze.

His eyesdip, throat bobbing at the harsh swallow he makes as he sees just how wet sheis. There’s no room for embarrassment, not as turned on as she is, as turned onas she can see Klaus is. He fumblesfor the button on his jeans, easing the zipper down gently. Caroline reachesfor him as he steps out of them but he thwarts her, gripping her wrists as hesettles himself over her, skin fever hot as it slides against hers. She archesup, rubbing the aching points of her nipples against the firm wall of his chestand rocking her hips in an attempt to gain some friction against her clit.Klaus holds himself just above her, the line of his body rigid and a groanbitten off as he presses his face into his throat.

“Klaus,”she whines, shifting restlessly, “I want…”

His huff ofa laugh sounds pained, “I know. I wanttoo, Caroline.”

She makesan impatient noise, winding a leg around his back and attempting to pull himdown, only managing to drag her dripping folds over the taut line of hisabdomen, letting out a soft hiss at the sensation.

It’s notnearly enough.

Klaus bitesdown on her shoulder, a warning, and her grip on him tightens, arms strainingagainst his hold on her wrists. “If we do this,” he rasps, “I want a chance todo it again. Properly.”

“What, likein a bed?” Caroline asks. “If you want we’ll transfigure the couch once we’vetaken the edge off. Surely a couple of orgasms will allow us to focus enough?”

He leversup to look at her, his jaw clenched tight. “Not what I meant.”

She rollsher hips again, biting her lips to stifle a whimper. The ache is beginning to hurt and Klaus features soften, more ofhis weight resting against her. His cock lies heavily against her thigh, thickand hard, and she marvels at his control. Considers all the fun she could havetesting it. “Dinner,” he grits out. “That sort of proper. Where you wear a fetchinglittle dress and I bring flowers and I kiss you goodnight but we can’t quitebring ourselves to stop at just a kiss and you drag me into your flat and haveyour wicked way with me in your front hall.”

Carolinestill in surprise and she blinks up at him. “I… think I’d like that.”

He grins,and there’s something feral in it that appeals and her breath catches. “Excellent,”Klaus murmurs. “I will, of course, have mywicked way with you afterwards. Wouldyou care for a preview?”

She’sbarely had time to process before Klaus is slithering down her body, suckingone of her nipples into his mouth. Her hands, now free wind into his hair,tightening when she feels his fingers stroking along her slit. He finds herclit with his thumb, stroking side to side as he kisses her ribs. “Klaus, youdon’t have to…”

He shushesher, “I want to.”

“Don’t youneed…” she tries, because he must be feeling the effects of the potion too, thetightening pressure that edges towards pain when arousal heightens with norelease.

Klaus nipsat her hipbone, soothes the sting with his tongue, “Don’t worry about me.”

He pullsher up as he slips off the couch, kneeling at her feet with his hand wrappedaround his cock.

God, thatwas so not fair.

She squirmsas he she watches him stroke himself, easy glides as he uses his free hand topush her legs farther apart. She slumps down on the couch willingly, resting onthe very edge, open to his gaze. “I came three times listening to you touchyourself, love. I do believe I owe you one.”

He doesn’tgive her a chance to argue (not that she wouldhave) leaning down and flicking his tongue against her clit. She jolts, toescurling, reaching up behind her and gripping the upholstery to avoid the urgeto reach down and pull him more tightly against her.

Not thatKlaus needs the encouragement.

He startsslow, testing the pressure and speed she likes best on her clit, slipping twofingers inside of her once he’s figured out what makes her thighs shake andneedy noises spill from her lips. She’s sure her nails are going to rip intothe couch but she only grips tighter as the feelings build, her muscles pulledtight as she grinds against his mouth. Klaus crooks his fingers, sucks hard,and she’s flying, muscles going lax as she cries out.

She feelshim pant against her thigh, his fingers thrusting lazily as he works herthrough her climax.

Carolinewants more.

She reachesdown and threads her fingers through his hair, tugging until he looks up ather. She straightens, limbs still the slightest bit shaky with the pleasurethrumming through them. “We’re definitely even. Wanna get more even?”

Klaus’ nodis enthusiastic and he rears up cupping her face and slanting his mouth overhers as he tumbles her onto her back once more. She smiles into the kiss andruns her hands down his back, shaping the muscles that she finds, makes amental note to do the same with her lips later. She moans a little as shetastes herself on his tongue, shivers when she feels his hand between them, brushingonce more over her entrance. He’s less than steady, when he pulls back, hislips pressed into a tight line. Still, he doesn’t push into her. Carolinegroans in exasperation, “I’m into the foreplay, don’t get me wrong. But I need you, Klaus.”

“Do we need…?”

“Contraceptivepotion,” she assures him, tilting her hips as he lines himself up.

“Thank god,”he mutters, “I’ve no idea where my wand went.”

Her replycatches in her throat, a long moan coming out instead as he sinks into the heatof her, the stretch so beyond perfect thatCaroline wonders if they’ll ever even make it to dinner now that she knows whatthis feels like.

She’stotally yanking him into her apartment and having her way with him when hepicks her up. Forget that end of date first kiss nonsense. They could order inwhen they needed sustenance.

He stillsonce he’s buried inside of her, hips pressed tight to hers and Caroline shakesher head, bucking underneath him and urging him to move. “Slow later,” shedemands, quiet and forceful, “just fuck me.”

A roughsound of approval rumbles out of Klaus and he wraps his arm around hershoulders, snapping his hips into hers as his free hand covers her breast andpinches her nipple. Caroline lets out a cry, digging her nails into hisshoulders and writhing underneath him.

They chasetheir highs greedily, skin slipping and hands wandering. Caroline’s back bowswhen he finds the perfect angle, breathless pleas for more, harder, tumbling from her. He loses his rhythmwhen she’s almost there, grunting out a curse into her skin. “It’s okay,” shegasps, feeling him tensing. She works her hand in between them, circles her hipsuntil her body jerks against the weight of his, waves of bliss washing over heras he shudders and comes with a low groan of contentment.

Klaus slipsto the side and Caroline throws a leg over his hip, wincing as he glides out ofher. He’s still mostly hard and she’s sure she’ll be more than ready to go in afew moments.

Might evenbe even if they weren’t currently under the influence of a performance enhancingpotion. She rests her forehead on his chest, listening to the rapid pounding oftheir heartbeats. “I think we’re going to need a new couch.”

Klauslaughs, smoothing a hand through her hair, “Most likely. I think we should lieon the requisition form.”

Caroline nodsin agreement, “We’ll blame the potion. Say it was burned beyond repair.”

“I vote weangle for something roomier,” Klaus says. “Just in case we both need to use it.”

Carolinesmirks, rolling her head back to meet his eyes as Klaus’ hand drifts down herback. “For naps, right?”

Klausreturns her mischievous expression with one of his own, maneuvering them so she’sfirmly on top of him, legs spread over his hips, his cock pressed against herass. He folds his arms behind his head as she sits up. “If that’s what’ll helpyou lie on the form, love, sure.”

Caroline’spretty sure that neither of them is ever going to manage a nap in this roomagain. Unless they’ve mutuallyexhausted each other doing very unprofessional things.

After all actual work was done, of course. Carolinecould think of no greater incentive.

[camo1523]

Human Rights and Hungry Mouths

The Apartheid Regime

           This time around, we took our taste buds on a trip down to South Africa. For this meal, I chose two different dishes commonly found in South African cuisine and did my best to accommodate the recipes during our little quarantine. I chose to make boerewors (BO-ruh-vors) which is a yummy South African version of hot dogs, as well as Durban Chicken Curry. These are two dishes that reflect the cultural heritage of South Africa due to the history of the country and its food. Many have heard of ‘apartheid’, yet many don’t really know what it is. An apartheid is an enforced segregation based on race. During the mid-1900’s there was a political regime in South Africa that enforced racial segregation. The whites, mostly of Dutch and British descent, considered the South Asian or Indian population to be inferior to them as well as considering the Africans to be even below the Indians. This was all due to skin color. Due to this unfortunate circumstance, the Indians were treated better than the Africans and therefore were the ones that had the ability to feed groups of people and could meet in groups undisturbed. This meant a lot of intermingling between the Indians and Africans in the Indians’ homes where the Africans were influenced heavily by the curry and other Indian spices. Many dishes in South African cuisine have curry and other Indian spices incorporated into them. Pictured below is a my plate with both dishes on it.

Braai

           As I mentioned earlier, boerewors is like South African hot dogs. However, when grilling out in South Africa, there is a method used that is called braai. It is just like grilling but they only use charcoal or wood to fuel the fire rather than electric. So obviously it would be close to impossible to make my own boerewors sausage so I got a plain ring sausage at the supermarket and slathered it with a special sauce blend I whipped up. I just melted butter, added a splash of malt vinegar, some curry powder, coriander, nutmeg, and black pepper and then brushed it over the whole coiled up sausage. I grilled it on charcoal to replicate the braai grilling style and grilled it as a whole sausage coil as pictured below. This was the closest way to making them South African style as I could do with some of the grocery limitations occurring during the quarantine. Braai is a very prominent holiday cooking festivity similar to barbecues in the U.S.

Hot vs. Spicy

           I feel that it is important to note that there is a difference between ‘hot’ and ‘spicy’, so before I go on, I will explain the difference. When something burns your mouth like a hot pepper, it is hot. When something has nutmeg or cloves or cinnamon or ginger, it isn’t hot but it is spicy. This seemingly miniscule difference actually can become a big one when writing if your words aren’t chosen carefully. Therefore, I will say that the curried chicken was both hot and spicy. Simmering the chicken in cumin, coriander, curry, cinnamon, tomatoes, potatoes, onion, ginger, garlic, and cayenne powder (pictured below) was definitely resulted in a combination I never would have come up with on my own. It was quite unique and delicious. It was sweet and savory, yet spicy and had just a little hot to it. I can’t say it was like anything I’ve ever eaten before. I can just imagine an old Indian lady cooking for a group of all races in a tiny kitchen in South Africa as everyone plans protests and resistances to protect their human rights together. Fortunately, this story has a good ending. The South African government was converted to a democracy in the late 90’s. I believe this dish and its combination of such a wide variety of unique flavors symbolizes the assimilation of multiple cultures together to form a complex and beautiful blend of “flavors”. It was a wonderful insight into the trials and tribulations of another culture and the beauty that can result from a resolution in conflict.