#he could like someone for years on end but never admit it unless they egged him on

[deadn30n]

it's sunday and in the spirit of this raunchy little day i must inform you all that yone is a virgin by default in almost every verse because he's married to his duties/work and never had much time to even consider romance. i don't believe he's ever actually even really fallen in love with someone ( i headcanon him more on the same spectrum as myself; mostly aroace ( there are very rare exceptions ); where he experiences very little romantic/sexual attraction ) so when he finally does get together with someone, it's like a whirlwind kind of romance. where he falls hard and he falls deep because it's such a rare and unprecedented thing for him and leaves him incredibly vulnerable to having his heart severely broken if it doesn't work out. he does prefer to take things slow and can literally take years if he's unsure of his own feelings / unsure of whether the other party likes him too. so unless he's slapped directly in the face and told how you feel about him, he's probably just gonna slow burn the fuck outta it

[writer-and-artist27]

From my wandering mind (trying not to debate on who to Grail next, Skadi or Berserker Musashi/Shii-chan), I couldn't help but think about hugs with some of the Servants in my Chaldea.

Each Servant hugs a little differently, but when it comes to Vy and her posse of Heroic Spirits, they all have their distinct impressions.

Saber Alter is a bit awkward with hugs. She just doesn't do them, Servant or not. But when Vy's in a bad spot, she ends up placing a hand on top of Vy's head for pats. It just works out that way. Burgers aren't included, but Vy ends up finding one near her lunch tray later anyways. Alter seems to be aware of extra-tired days, which says a lot considering how many enemies Excalibur Morgan shut down back in the day.

Chevalier D'eon hugs like a comfy yet prickly burr of some kind, keeping Vy close with one arm around her waist while a hand stays close to her rapier. D'eon is still a Knight even in peacetime, and she can't let her new Lord get into trouble. She still remembers that one giant ghost from the beginning of their journey, and how much pain it caused Vy from just defeating the darn thing.

Medea hugs like a distant aunt that just reunited with you after some time away, eager for more affection without saying anything. Considering Vy almost always is smothered by the Caster, it's become a thing. Sometimes, Vy gets glimpses of a tall, dark man with glasses in her dreams and lets Medea hug harder. It's the least she can do.

Diarmuid barely initiates hugs on his own, most likely from his past with Fionn and Grainne. Vy often has to tug on his shirt hems instead to ask for permission, and he acts like a gentle tree when she eventually hugs him. He never pushes her away, but the hugs don't last long unless he feels up for extending the contact after a particularly tough battle. His mole has caused him plenty of trouble already, having a Master that's not affected in the slightest while letting him achieve his dream of being a loyal Knight is all that he's ever asked for. Letting her hug him every now and then is okay. Not all the time, though.

Archer EMIYA acts more like an unmoving rock compared to Diarmuid's tree stance sometimes, barely flinching when Vy wraps her arms around his waist from behind but not really reacting to her touch either. It takes Vy asking him, "Hug back?" that he eventually turns around and humors her, but his embrace is always hesitant while still being tight enough to remind Vy that he's been scarred in his journey to be a Hero. That physical contact for the sake of contact is something foreign to him. Vy tries not to think about what he's seen as a Counter Guardian, merely whispering, "Thankie, Shirou," into his shoulder every single time she hugs him, because it's the least she can do for the first Gold Archer who ever answered her call for help. She might not be able to do everything for him, but goddammit, she's gonna do her best so that he can rest too.

Marie Antoinette hugs like a sister would, giddy and giggling the entire time Vy comes close. She encourages the hugs the most out of the first group of Servants who answered Vy's call, eagerly taking them on even when Vy's shy about asking. Arms around Vy's back, squeezing warmly, and a cheek brushing the top of Vy's head. It makes for a cute image, and hey. Giving love is the least she can do. No one gets away scot free with calling Vy's body "dirty" from all the wounds she's been dealt. Vy has a heart big enough to even accept the darkest parts of Marie that she's seen of herself, after all. The least Marie can do in return is indulge a girl who really should've met some better people growing up.

Miyamoto Musashi, even as a Berserker, happily accepts Vy's hugs. It's partially because Vy's cute when tugging on Musashi's sleeve to ask, but it's also because without her sword, it's easy to get lonely when traveling the world. Being stuck in a swimsuit is the smallest price to pay when it means Vy can cuddle up to Musashi like she hasn't seen the swordswoman in years. It's nice having someone close by, and permanently too. Plus, as much as Vy says it's okay, Musashi still feels bad about eating udon out of a Grail to the point of causing a Singularity. Sure, it wasn't as bad as BB's apparent stunt last year, but it's egged Musashi on some. Not helped by Vy's occasional little mumble of, "Don't leave again, Shii-chan," into Musashi's chest after some simulator fights in that flaming castle tower.

Scathach-Skadi didn't know what to make of hugs at first. Even with her world gone and then later having traversed a lookalike of it with Vy, she's still a Divine Spirit. The last god after Ragnarok. Her hands have been cold for who knows how long. Yet Vy still chooses to lean against her side every now and then, arm faintly winding around Skadi's waist for that extra bit of warmth, and Skadi's gotten better at ignoring the urge to leave for ice cream. Novum Chaldea may be hot sometimes from the lack of working temperature control to Skadi's liking, but a little one's presence makes things tolerable. Skadi doesn't want to think about the world she lost, about the children she was made to leave behind from answering Vy's call back when Da Vinci was much larger in size and presence, but when remembering the Lostbelt she fought that other self in, she'd take Vy's hand any day, even if it burned. She made too many mistakes in her old world. Never again.

Ereshkigal hugs Vy timidly, almost like a bear trying to be aware of her strength in front of a cub. So many things could go wrong in Ereshkigal's point of view, but to Vy, it's just another friend who deserves hugs. Cold hands be damned, hugs make everyone feel warm and Eresh deserves nice things in Vy's brain. Ereshkigal fumbles even to this day, tongue-tied over formal language and plain sputtering, but the blush on her face makes it obvious she doesn't mind. No one really hugged her while she was still head of the Underworld, and now that Vy is with her for who knows how long, she's gonna cherish her little grape.

Achilles hugs like an over-excited big brother wanting to see his newly born sibling, eagerly catching Vy in his arms before she could even touch him to lift her up in the air. He's laughing the entire time in contrast to Vy's surprised squealing, but he can't help but twirl her around and watch the squeals change into surprised giggling. Catching her back into his chest once she gets dizzy is fun too, because he's the tallest out of the Grailed Servant group and can thus hide her away when some too-curious-for-their-own-good staff are glancing their way. Achilles can't help himself. Vy's laughter is cute and sounds more like the aspiring young woman she was supposed to be. At least in his arms, she could be Vy and not just Humanity's last Master.

Arturia hugs like that of a cat, coming to Vy's side when she feels it necessary. Even after being the Saber-class Servant in two Holy Grail Wars over, physical affection isn't her strongest suit. She admitted as much when Vy first asked her for permission to initiate a hug. Still, Arturia's gotten used to Vy gently asking for it, obliging almost every single time. Hugs are a bit too firm sometimes, but it's not to the point of EMIYA's rock. Arturia's still learning. Plus, Arturia can't help but see the similarities between Vy and her past self, and the last thing Arturia wants is Vy having a bad ending like how she did.

Robin Hood, unsurprisingly, ends up being the main person Vy ends up following for hugs, acting like a human-ish vine. Maybe it's the green clothes and the lack of smoke on him these days. Still, even if Robin doesn't respond to Vy's hugs immediately, it's almost always guaranteed that he's gonna wrap his arms around her eventually. With the way he hugs her back, it sometimes looks like he cradles her, using No Face May King to hide her away from the world while pressing his lips to her hair. Vy doesn't mind, often snuggling him via pressing her forehead into his shoulder and contentedly slumping against him in return. It helps that he's her first Hero and still is, even if he didn't answer her call at first. It took two months for him to show up during the Incineration of Humanity. Still, when Vy hugs him sometimes, she later dreams of hikes with her dad. The scent of the forest is strong with him, and Vy dearly hopes Robin gets as much comfort out of the gesture as she does. Thankfully, there's nothing to worry about. He hasn't stopped calling her "little sparrow", after all.

[thepetulantpen]

(Happy Valentine’s Day! Here’s my annual Saimota fic. As usual, keep an eye out for saimota fanart by @fancy-kryptonite​)

The anticipation leading up to Valentine’s Day is persistent, all-consuming, and, above all, irrational. It builds and builds past the point of overthinking and well into sleepless nights.

Holidays are always like this- a sort of performance anxiety to be happy, to make a day special. In a sense, it’s a self-fulfilling prophecy. He knows it can’t possibly be perfect, so he ruins it for himself before he starts.

It reaches a breaking point in the form of him mentally throwing up his hands, tired of debating with himself. There have been enough grand, somewhat ridiculous gestures over the last few years. No one is expecting him to do anything elaborate, least of all Kaito- who Shuichi finds sprawled out on the grass, a pile of books abandoned at his side. Unconcerned with the holiday a few days away.

“I was thinking we could try something normal this year.”

Kaito raises his head, not confused by the non-sequitur, but mildly offended- insofar as any of Kaito’s expressions can be called mild.  “I thought our other dates were normal?”

“Simple. I meant simple.” Shuichi can’t help smiling- only Kaito would consider scavenger hunts and secret love letters normal. He sits down beside Kaito, trying not to crush any of the books, borrowed far past their return date. “Easier to plan.”

Kaito looks relieved, and ecstatic- the latter of which is not particularly comforting. “Right, right. I’ve got the perfect thing.”

That’s fast, even for Kaito. Shuichi tries not to let it get to him- he hasn’t thought of anything specific yet. “Well, I figured we could each pick something- you take the morning, and I’ll take the afternoon?” Hopefully, that’ll give him enough time. “If you don’t mind. I mean, I could go first, if you’d rather.”

“Nah, I’ve got it covered.” He pats Shuichi on the back, with his usual lack of awareness of his own strength. “I won’t disappoint you, sidekick.”

I’ve really got to talk him into a new title.

He certainly sounds confident, but Shuichi has never known Kaito to not sound confident. He’d been thinking coffee or movies, but if Kaito has something perfect, then Shuichi has to step up his game. There’s only a day or two left- what could he do in that time?

“Shuichi? Did you hear me?” Kaito leans into his line of sight, waving his hand in front of Shuichi’s face. There’s no telling how long he’s been doing that for. He must take Shuichi’s expression for an apology, as he repeats himself, “I’ll text you the details. It’s a surprise, so don’t try to detect it, alright?”

Oh, good. Another thing for me to obsessively think about it. 

“I won’t, I promise.”

Kaito doesn’t look convinced. Shuichi can’t say he is, either.

…

Despite Kaito’s insistence that Shuichi would guess before they got there, the escape room ends up being a pleasant surprise. The waiting room is charming, filled with props to take pictures with and a massive winners board, and the hallway is filled with unassuming doors labeled with puns related to their theme. Their room is, fittingly, made out to be the scene of an old-timey murder- Shuichi and Kaito, wearing the deerstalker hats hung near the door, being the detectives called in to solve it.

It only occurs to Shuichi about halfway through that he’s spending Valentine’s Day rifling through blood-stained documents about a fictional murder while Kaito yells nonsense guesses to word puzzles from across the room. He wouldn’t have it any other way.  

“What if we arranged the dominos in a star shape? Is that anything?”

Shuichi glances up from the nearly illegible pages that have been unceremoniously shifted to his responsibility and finds Kaito juggling a tin of dominos and an armful of paintings that had once been on the walls. Those, at least, were meant to come off. 

“Uh,” Shuichi hesitates, caught between about three puzzles at once- one of them being Kaito, in general, “It couldn’t hurt?”

Kaito grins, obviously happy to do something. The paintings are scattered across the table, now crowded with other clues jumbled beyond recognition. From a glance, Shuichi can see that the lines painted on might actually make a star- but he doubts someone’s been assigned to watch the camera and wait for them to artistically arrange the dominos.

Kaito is not stupid. He’s practically an astronaut and, aside from that, he can be brilliant with people, far more insightful than Shuichi. It’s just- he tends to think in the abstract, approaching problems in a way no one else would. Meaning that the people who made these puzzles would never arrive at the solutions Kaito picks out. 

It doesn’t help that he refuses to use their hints, under any circumstances. The employee running the room had only egged him on by telling him no one had ever solved it in time without using a hint- Shuichi had accepted their fate, after hearing that. 

The intercom clicks on, the false cheer of their game master giving them a five-minute warning. Kaito scoffs, confidence never dulled, but the tension in his shoulders betrays him- his hands, over the dominos, have stopped, apparently realizing it’s not getting him anywhere. 

Shuichi had told himself, while they were waiting for the room to reset, that he wouldn’t take over. It’s supposed to be a casual game between the two of them, no pressure to win. Plenty of people fail these things, and they still have fun.

He has a feeling Kaito is not one of those people. 

“We still have plenty of time,” Shuichi assures, surprised to sound so confident, “I think the dominos are color-coded. Take these,” he hands off one of the papers, still running through combinations on the others, “and give organizing them a shot.” 

Kaito gives him a mock salute, but rises to the task. As predicted, he moves through the dominos quickly- giving Shuichi time to hurriedly unlock the next two safes. He’s had those figured out for a while, having thought he would have more time to guide them to the right answer. 

The solutions themselves are not terribly difficult. Nothing like solving crime, in any practical way, but they force him to slow down and connect all the pieces, adding up how every seemingly unrelated item fits together. 

“I’ve got it!” Kaito grins, the triumphant click of dominos set in the right position- a key to another code. “What’s next?”

“It corresponds to the filing cabinet,” he’s practically on autopilot as the clock ticks down, the flash of red numbers in his periphery, “I’ll take the desk drawers.”

It puts them shoulder to shoulder, both rapidly setting combinations and trading half-shouted numbers, unnecessary given their closeness. Kaito finishes first, so he gets to watch over Shuichi’s shoulder as he guesses the last clue. 

For a second, it looks like he’s gotten it wrong, that he’s failed them both, before the lights flicker dramatically. They all go out, save for a hidden projector that lights up one wall with the image of a wailing ghost- ah, he’d forgotten they were supposed to be avenging some spirit. He’ll admit, he wasn’t listening very closely during the introduction, distracted by Kaito’s grin as he took in the room. 

Kaito jumps about a foot in the air- clearly, he hadn’t been paying much attention either. Shuichi takes his arm, hoping to keep him from stepping on any of the discarded paintings.

“The necklace,” Kaito yells over the sound effects, wide eyed, “she wants the necklace!”

On impulse, Shuichi dives for it, digging through the pile they’ve accumulated, and tosses it to Kaito. He doesn’t present it to her so much as he holds it up as if it’s a crucifix he could use to exorcise her. The projection, unlike a real ghost, thankfully doesn’t mind his rudeness.

“I may finally be at peace.”

Figures that Kaito would be the one to bring peace to the ghost. It makes Shuichi smile, even as the lights are turned on abruptly, bringing an anti-climactic end to their adventure. The clock is paused at 17 seconds- not exactly a record to brag about, but he’ll take it. 

On their way out, Kaito elbows him to get his attention. “So, how long did you know the answers?”

Shuichi smiles and says, “Not long.” Which, judging from his expression, Kaito translates to “since we got in the room.”

Kaito doesn’t seem bothered, not like Shuichi thought he might be. If anything, he looks delighted. 

“We made a fantastic team, as usual. Under my guidance, of course.” He messes up Shuichi’s hair, a habit he didn’t bother kicking once they started dating. “With our smarts combined, we could do anything. You could be the first detective on the moon, you know?”

“I don’t know, maybe my calling is in paranormal investigations,” he teases, pretending not to notice Kaito’s grimace, “we could go on ghost hunts together.”

Kaito scowls, and Shuichi presses on, baiting the hook, “Unless you’re scared?”

“No man, nor beast, has ever bested me.” Kaito’s frown is close to genuine indignation, offended that Shuichi would consider him below ghosts. “Ghosts don’t even have bodies. I’ll take on a ghost, any time, any day.”

Luckily for Kaito, Shuichi thinks it’s unlikely he’ll ever have to deliver on that promise. “We’ll save that for another weekend, then.” He picks up the pace, leading the way, for once. “I’ve got something a little more romantic than a ghost hunt, this time.”

If Kaito looks inordinately relieved, Shuichi is generous enough not to notice.

…

Most people can tell when Shuichi is overthinking something. Most people know that answer is “always”. 

Kaito can tell when Shuichi is thinking of overthinking something. The calm before the storm, the buzz of energy that has him tapping his foot incessantly while staring into space. It started well before their date, carrying into the weekend of Valentine’s Day.

It all hits in the form of an over-packed backpack and piles of printed maps, stacked in the backseat. Shuichi has a schedule, complete with an annotated map of their hiking trail and final destination.

“We should make it there just as it gets dark enough to see stars. It’ll be a perfect view.”

The emphasis is obviously placed on perfect, Shuichi’s smile just a bit forced. Kaito gives the map a once-over- credit where credit is due, it looks as close to the perfect spot as you could get- and gives Shuichi a smile. “I’m sure it’ll be great.”

He may not be a detective, but it’s not hard to figure out that anything Shuichi comes up with will be incredible. It’d be difficult to have a bad time with Shuichi; any time spent with him feels like time well spent. The beautiful hiking trail is only a bonus. 

Kaito wouldn’t be surprised if Shuichi’s plans were flawless, every second mapped out. Every funny looking tree, every set of tracks in the ground- all set up for Kaito to notice, or for them to use as landmarks. Shuichi could say he’s set the stars on a timer, and Kaito might just believe him. If anyone could do it, it’d be Shuichi.

The sky, however, seems to have other plans. 

The clouds start rolling late in the afternoon and stick around stubbornly after the sun sets, filtering reds and purples through grey film. At certain angles, Kaito can see the moon in their gaps, but there’re hardly any stars persevering through. Dark grey shadows move over what might have otherwise been a fairly bright sky, now dimmed to a heavy static. 

It's remarkable in its own right, patterns of grey standing out starkly against the abyss of the night sky. It feels like the clouds are the only thing between them and limitless space, a simple barrier to surpass. Kaito only feels more drawn to it, eager to peel back the layers to see the stars for himself.

“I checked the weather,” Shuichi mutters, miserably, “I had three backups, and I was sure this one would be clear skies. I even looked up the constellations you could see from here-“

“That’s alright.” The grass has started to cool rapidly in the darkness, no springtime warmth remaining to greet them. Kaito lays out his coat to sit on, instead, and leaves Shuichi the more generous half. “It’s a great view, like you said.”

Shuichi squints at him, suspicious. “You can’t see any stars.”

“Stars aren’t the only thing I came here to see.” Kaito puts an arm around Shuichi’s shoulders, pulling against his side. He’s never embarrassed to be close to Shuichi, but he’ll admit he likes it best when it’s just the two of them, no distractions, no threat of self-consciousness. “It’s perfect.”

Shuichi looks down, hiding a smile. “Next you’ll be dropping cheesy lines with star metaphors.”

“There’s nothing wrong with star metaphors!”

He should be offended when Shuichi laughs at that, but he can’t bring himself to pretend. Shuichi’s laugh is reward enough- even if, objectively, star metaphors are among the best romantic gestures.

He’s still got work to do, as Shuichi sits silently beside him, staring at the galaxy print of Kaito’s jacket to avoid looking at the sky. It’s obvious he’s under the impression that he’s failed somehow, which just won’t do. As the hero to his sidekick, it’s Kaito’s responsibility to let him know he’s wrong- just, perhaps, not in those exact words.

Kaito nudges Shuichi and leans forward, craning his neck to get the best view of the clouds above them. “You’re underestimating the sky. Look, there’s always something beautiful to see.”

He points at the formations of clouds, shapes made of negative space against the moonlight. Their tops are highlighted by the escaping light, scattering over the uneven, cottony surface. Shuichi’s head tilts to follow him- it reminds Kaito of the escape room, focus taking over his expression. It’d almost feel out of place here, beneath the clouds with nothing of substance to analyze, if Kaito wasn’t used to seeing it all the time, for anything from figuring out a new coffee machine to spoiling a detective show by guessing the killer early.

“That one looks like a bear,” Kaito takes Shuichi by the shoulders, directing him to the cloud in question, “See? The other clouds are like the salmon it’s chasing.”

Shuichi doesn’t manage to sound very convincing, but he tries his best when he agrees, “I think I see it.”

“Hasn’t anyone ever told you you’re a terrible liar, Shuichi?”

Shuichi elbows him in retaliation, turning away from the stars to look up at him. He’s going for disapproving, but Kaito can see through him, far easier than seeing through the cloud layer. 

Somedays, it’s hard to believe that Shuichi bothers to hang around with him. Kaito considers himself good company, but for Shuichi? He’s not sure he qualifies- and yet here they are, under the stars. Or clouds, as it is. 

“One day, I’ll bring you to see the stars up close. We’ll go high above the clouds and into the night sky.” Kaito holds him closer, no longer interested in looking at the sky. “Just the two of us.”

“I’d like that.” Shuichi leans more into him, pushing for room on Kaito’s jacket. When he smiles this time, he doesn’t hide it. “I’ll have to consider space for next Valentine’s Day.”

He doesn’t sound serious, like he doesn’t completely believe Kaito will be able to pull it off. That’s alright- he has plenty of time to prove him wrong.

Kaito’s not being completely honest, anyway. Space isn’t his ideal Valentine’s Day- and it’s not an escape room, or star-gazing, either. It’s by Shuichi’s side, wherever that might be. If it’s watching reruns of mysteries he’s memorized the solutions to, or teasing him for his choice of black coffee, or just laying on the grass, staring up at the same sky.

The promise of another Valentine’s with Shuichi makes it all worth it. Kaito doesn’t need much else- though, he’s still looking forward to sweeping the clearance section of chocolates.

[r6sblitz]

Happy Valentines day! I don’t have an AO3 but I am debating on making one. Nevertheless, I haven’t written anything fictional since middle school so if it’s bad...at least I have an excuse.

It’s Valentines week, and Montagne needs a date to get entry to the fabled Valentines party. I wonder who it’ll be? (This fic is mild, just some kissing, a little less than 5k words, Montagne/Blitz)

Montagne turned the paper over, inspecting both sides. Valentines was coming up once again, and as per tradition Rainbow threw a huge Valentine's party at whatever hotel ballroom would let them. He's heard the stories of past years--like the one year someone made a "punch" that was nothing more than a concoction of pepto bismol and fruit punch. Or how every year would end in someone finding a couple making out in numerous secluded areas. The Frenchman himself had never been to any of the outings, as the big bold print at the end of the rose colored flier always barred his entrance.

    ‘Must have a date!’ it read in it's silky letters, mocking him. 

It was no secret Gilles loved a good party, especially one where he could engage with his fellow peers. Sadly though, he's yet to find a date. He's thought about just taking a friend and lying, but his poor communication skills also factor into his inability to lie.

    With a sigh, he places the flier next to his plate, eating his lunch in peace. That was, until two familiar faces joined him at the table.

    "Hey Gilles!" Emmanuelle's warm voice brought a smile to his face as he watched her and Rook sit across from him.

    The two very much reminded him of his siblings when they were younger--bright and protective, but they could be mischievous at times. Montagne hasn't even had a chance to greet her back before the flier is snatched from across the table by Julien.

    "Planning on attending this year?" he asks with a smirk. Emmanuelle's smile brightens, "Oh it's so much fun Gilles! Please tell me your coming."

    Gilles gives a waning smile, "I haven't got a date."

    Julien let out an amused huff, "As if that's ever stopped Bandit from sneaking in and stealing the snacks."

    Twitch gives him a fake slap to the shoulder, "Don't be mean!" she turns to Monty, "What he means to say is don't feel bad for not having a 'date'," she says with air quotes, "you could just bring a friend. I'm sure everyone would be happy to see you there."

    Montagne rubs the back of his neck, "I'm not so sure. I feel it is...out of the spirit?" The two across the table share a confused look unbeknownst to Monty, Julien simply shrugging his shoulders in response. A few moments of silent eating pass before Julien speaks up.

    "Well...is there anyone you're close to? Maybe you could use this chance to get to know them a little bit better?" he asks before sticking another forkful of food into his mouth and winking.

    Montagne chews the inside of his cheek a moment, cogs in his head turning. He honestly hadn't had a romantic relationship in decades, deeming his job too important to have something take more of his focus away. But if it was a fellow operator...No. That was equally as bad. Job relationships were known to crash and burn when they went south, and with this job they needed exactly the opposite of that. However his mind wanders to the relationships of Rainbow--how despite so many disliking and downright hating each other, it hasn't caused catastrophic issues.

    "I think you might have broken him." he faintly hears Emmanuelle giggle, causing him to snap out of his thoughts.

    "Well, Valentine's isn't for another week, so there's plenty of time to think it over." Julien says, standing with his empty plate and bidding farewell.

    Emmanuelle searches her empty plate a moment, trying to find the right words for the older man. 

Eventually, she picks up her plate, "Try not to think too hard, I say just go with a friend. Who knows what might happen!" and with that he is left alone once again. He peers down at the pink flier and it's swirling text, pocketing it as he too exits from the cafeteria.

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

The note has burned a hole into both his pocket and his mind. Every time he casually puts his hands in his pockets, or reaches for his wallet or phone, he is reminded of it and it's connotations. The past few days he's been taking Julien's advice, thinking about who he would want to bring given the chance.

    When he's practicing his shooting, he thinks of Thatcher, has to admit the elder man is rather handsome. Though he highly doubts he's gay or bi or whatever sort of things people call themselves these days.

    A technology session with Dokkaebi has him wondering about her, but quickly stuffs the idea--she's much too young, he'd feel like a creep asking her.

    After training, a few cuts bring him to Gustave. He too admires him, both for his looks and for his dedication. The two made small talk as Doc inspected the cuts, seeing if they needed stitches or if a heart covered bandaid would do. Montagne laughs at the bandages, oddly cute for a man like him to have, to which Doc sighs and explains someone must have replaced the regular ones with these--the name of the culprit not explicitly said but known anyways.

    "Are you attending the Valentines party?" Montagne asks as he pulls the sleeves of his coat back over his now Valentine themed arms.

    "I do actually," Doc replies offhandedly, busily putting away the peroxide and bandages, "do you?"

    Montagne shakes his head, pushing himself off the gurney.

    Doc hums in response, “Well if you can’t find one, don’t feel bad for bringing someone more platonic.”

“Emmanuelle told you didn’t she” Montagne sighs, rubbing his face. The younger GIGN members had good intentions but, sometimes they were a bit too much for the old man. 

Doc chuckles, “My lips are sealed. Take it easy friend.”

Montagne leaves, spending the rest of his free time pondering a potential partner and wondering who the hell Doc is bringing as a date. His pacing has led him to the upper floor balconies of the base, one of the many enhancements from their old station at Hereford. He sits on a relatively new cushioned bench, watching wistfully as the setting sun stains the sky a deep orange and the clouds purple. It seems he is destined to not have any time to himself as the glass door facing out onto the balcony opens with a quiet squeak. A familiar figure in a puffy white jacket steps out.

        Blitz.

    The younger man strides toward him, "Hey, mind some company?" he asks.

        Montagne shuffles a bit, making room for the german to sit down. He does, with a long winded sigh.

    "Hope I'm not interrupting anything." he chuckles. Montagne smiles back at him and shakes his head. The two enjoy the sunset in peace, though Montagne's mind is elsewhere once again.

    Why hadn't he thought of Elias earlier? The german was one of the first people he ever met when Rainbow was conceived. He remembered back to when he was first working with everyone, how he enjoyed Blitz but first thought him naive, or a thrill seeker like Smoke. However as time went on, he found it was the total opposite. Occasionally the german would regale an enthralled younger operator about his time in Kosovo, or in India, or wherever he was stationed in between. Oftentimes the story would horrify them, sometimes along with any older ops within earshot, but he'd lighten the mood by bringing in a happy ending, or following it up with a lighter story. The two also shared morals--the need to protect and make sure everyone was safe regardless of their own situation.

    The more Gilles looked at Blitz, the more he began to see. He was kind and pleasant to be around, and had even been helping Montagne improve his english skills. And yet it seemed he was spending less and less time with the german, whether due to more responsibilities or more operators to deal with or a combination of the two. The fact really saddened him, just as they were becoming good friends, they were beginning to drift away.  

    With his mind lost, he failed to notice Blitz had turned and was now staring at him.

    "Er...is there something on my face? Please don't tell me it's marker again, it took me weeks to get that doodle of my neck." he groans, beginning to pull out his phone to check. Montagne shakes himself of his thoughts.

    "Ah no, I was just wondering-are you attending the party this weekend?" he asks, unusually nervous.

        Blitz tilted his head, "No I'm not, though I have been curious as to how Dominic manages to sneak in every year." he says, putting his chin on his fist in thought.

Before Montagne could reply, the man interjects, "I have an idea, do you have a date?"

Montagne nods his head no.

    "Great! We could go together!" he says as if it's just a casual everyday line. Montagne gawks at him, unable to process what's happening until Elias explains further.

    "I've always wanted to know how Dom gets in, and I assume you want to go cause well," he vaguely gestures at the frenchman, "it's your type of thing. It's a win win! Unless, you didn't want to go?"

    Montagne blinks, waving his hands in front of him, "Oh yes, yes I do." He says, and is surprised he sounds slightly disappointed.

    Blitz hops up from his seat, "Great, this will work out perfectly. See you on Saturday?"

    "8:30 sharp" Gilles hears himself mumble with a smile. With a lazy salute, the younger man leaves Montagne alone with the rising moon and an odd feeling in his stomach.

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

 It had been a long time since Gilles had gone shopping for clothes. Typically he’d wear whatever was supplied, and rarely dress up in an old tuxedo that forever sat in his closet. But with a little egging from a certain two GIGN members, they convinced him to go out and buy some nice clothes for once. So now Gilles was inspecting a large map of the mall along with Julien and Oliver, the latter coming along in place of Twitch who claimed she wanted the three of them to have some “guy time”. After a few moments of inspection, Oliver points to the shop.

    “Looks like it’s downstairs, toward the east entrance.”

    Julien groans, “Should’ve parked at the other lot.”

    The three set out, passing by various clothing boutiques, kiosks of toys and gadgets, and sickly sweet dessert stands. Their leisurely walk leads them to a large outlet at the other end of the mall. As soon as they enter, they’re immediately bombarded by the staff, who manage to wring out of them that Montagne was buying an outfit for his “date”. He’s corralled into a changing room and given several different dress shirts, jackets, and chinos before Julien and Olivier manage to drive them off. 

    He takes his time, putting on the matching sets before coming out and asking the two’s opinions. Gilles almost instantly regrets bringing the two along--both of them manage to find something or other to downvote an outfit. His latest attempt is simple, a peach colored dress shirt with tan brown dress pants. His hands are folded on his chest, exhaustedly listening to his two countrymen.

    “Hmm I don’t know Gilles, I think the shirt is too close to your skin tone.” Julien tuts.

        “Why did they think that was a good color to make pants out of, it looks like they're made of—” Gilles stomps back into the dressing room before he can hear the rest of Olivier’s sentence.

 It wasn’t an easy feat to make Montagne frustrated, but after nearly an hour, he found himself at the end of his rope. The hangers clatter as he inspects what he’s worn and what’s been tossed to the wayside. A pair of black pants and black shirt are the last two items.

 He disrobes before shouldering the shirt on, mumbling to himself that if they didn’t like this one, he was just going to wear his old tuxedo. After putting on the outfit, he takes a moment to inspect it in the thin mirror at the back of the changing room. At first he thought the shirt was just a plain black, however the sleeves bare an intricate lacework of swirling gold vines and roses. The pants have a similar, smaller pattern along the seams going down the outside of the legs. 

It’s probably one of the more risque things he’s worn, though nothing will top his April fools butterfly armor, but he takes a deep breath and walks out. To his surprise, the two of them are stunned into silence.

“That looks...amazing!” Julien beams. Olivier nods his head in approval. A nearby store attendant comes by and gushes about the outfit, doing their best to flatter Gilles who takes the compliments with a fake smile.

Montagne lets out a relieved sigh, quickly zipping into the changing room and paying for the clothes before he’s hounded anymore. The three of them merrily made their way back to the other side of the mall, finally getting to the car and heading back to base.

—————————————————————————————

The day of Valentines was like any other day. Training, training, and more training. Though the regiments didn’t seem as intense, the day ending earlier than usual and Montagne found his muscles weren’t as sore as they normally would be. He showers at his dorm, taking his time. Personal bathrooms were among many of the luxuries afforded to them at his base, and he’d be lying if he said he didn’t appreciate some privacy every once in a while. After he’s done, he dresses in his new attire, and stands in the mirror. He fiddles with his shirt collar, adjusting it this way and that. He’s oddly anxious, a feeling that’s rare for the older man. He couldn’t help but chuckle at himself, years of firefights and hostage situations and he’s scared over a date. Not even--it’s just a friendly outing to get in. Despite his initial excitement for the party, it’s turned into mild disappointment. With a deep sigh, he hopes to at least spend a little time with the german.

Gilles stuffs his wallet and phone into his pocket, and opens the door, and heads toward the parking lot.

    Upon arrival at the hotel, he’s surprised to see just how many operators were milling outside the ballroom, waiting to get in. He’s toward the back of the line and is still nearly half an hour early, but he isn’t alone for long. 

    “You’re early! And it looks like everyone else is to.” Elias says as he makes his way next to him in line, “You look amazing by the way!” he beams. Despite the low light Gilles swears the younger man is blushing.

    “Thank you. You look nice as well.” he says, scanning his partner’s outfit. He’s cleaned up nicely, though his hair is a bit tousled, likely the work of Lera. His skin tone contrasts perfectly with his wine red dress shirt and black pants. The two wait in line patiently, which can’t be said for some of the others. A tug at Montagne’s sleeve gets his attention. He looks down to see Blitz discreetly pointing at someone further up the line, follows his direction and spots the person in question.

    “Dominic?” Montagne whispers.

    “He’s alone, you think Ash is going to let him in?”

    Montagne shrugs, “We’ll have to wait and see.”

The booming voice of Clash from the front silenced all the chatter. She announces the beginning of festivities and the door opens, allowing the guests to file in one couple at a time. Slowly but surely the two make their way to the front, watching in awe as Ash and Clash let Dominic go in sans date. 

    They were about to enter the crowded ballroom when Blitz stopped him.

    “I have to ask,” he says, addressing Morowa, “why’d you let Dom in?”

    Clash snorts, “About time someone asked me about that. I owed him a huge favor--he fixed my shield during a firefight and probably saved my life. When I asked him what I could do to return the favor, he said he just wanted to get in here every year.”

    Elias quirks an eyebrow, “Seriously?”

    “Seriously, now off you go, have some fun.” she ushers the two in, who slow down to take in the sights and sounds. Outside of rumors, Montagne didn’t actually know what the Valentine’s party actually looked like. The ballroom was extremely long, ending with an empty stage except for a small table and something under a cloth. Scattered around the room were large round tables fit with white lace table skirts. The dim lights, in addition with the added pink and red lights casting small bubbles of light, shower everything in a soft glow. To the left of the entrance, a row of long tables, nearly stretching to the end of the ballroom, house seemingly every dessert and cocktail in existence. Montagne is sure if he ate one of everything from there, he wouldn’t survive the night.

    His hand is still in Elias’s as the younger man guides him away from the entrance toward the center of the room. Montagne takes a moment to appreciate just how warm he is, his hand heating Gilles’s forever cold ones. Through the sea of people he manages to spot Emmanuelle and Gustave. He must have slowed down a bit to see them clearly, as Elias turns around, before he too manages to spot the pair.

    “Why don’t you go over and chat, want anything to drink?” he asks.

    “Just a bit of champagne, thank you.”

    “You got it.” Elias replies, and soon he is lost amidst the waves of couples. The mountain of a man manages to squeeze his way over to Emmanuelle, who’s arm in arm with Caveira, chatting with Gustave. The two women are in wildly different dresses--Emmanuelle in a short strapless navy blue dress that fringes as it goes down, while Taina confidently sports a bit longer obsidian color dress, the long sleeves and low cut accentuating her long jet black hair. Twitch perks up upon seeing Gilles, waving him over.

    “You made it! I knew you’d find someone.” she says with a grin, which soon turns devious, “so, who’s your date?”

    Montagne scans the room, pointing out Elias at the opposite end holding two drinks and engaging in small chatter with Dominic, the other german’s hands holding as many desserts as humanly possible. It takes a few attempts for Emma to see, until Taina helps guide her vision.

    “Oh, Elias! Good choice.” she says playfully. Both her and Taina giggle, striding off to mingle elsewhere. 

    “I’m glad you could make it Gilles.” Doc says, looking comfortable in a barely blue dress shirt, hands stuffed in the pockets of his dark grey slacks.

    “Glad to be here, though I do have to ask-”

    Doc tilts his head.

    “-who in the world did you bring as a date? I never found out.”

    The medic barks with laughter, shaking his head, “You were really concerned about that? I brought Mister Baker,” he points to a gaggle of men nearby consisting of mostly SAS with the exception of Adriano and Aria. Lo and behold Thatcher was among them, waving his hand at a comment Seamus made. 

    “Ah. I didn’t realize you two were together.” he states bluntly.

    “It’s only been a few months, we wanted to keep it relatively low.” he states, “So, how long have you been with Elias?”

Montagne rubs the back of his neck, “In all honesty, he just wanted to see how Dominic got in.”

    Doc hums in acknowledgement, “I see. Well, you two enjoy the party, try not to drink too much.” he says, splitting off to join his partner. Thatcher takes to him casually, looping an arm around his back and resting his hand on the doctor’s hip. The little gaggle are surprised at first, that is until Smoke undoubtedly says something raunchy, which earns him the stink eye of both men. Montagne can’t help but chuckle at the site of it all.

    “Gustave and Mike huh, can’t say I saw that one coming,” Elias says. Montagne turns to find he’s returned, drinks masterfully held in one arm while the other teeters two plates of dessert foods. Gilles quickly grabs his drink and food, relieving the other man of his juggling duties, which he thanks him for. 

    “You could have asked for help.” Montagne jokes, taking a sip of the sparkling champagne. It’s a lot sweeter than normal, but he has no doubt everything at that table is more sugary than it should be. 

    “It’s ok, didn’t want to interrupt your conversation.” he replies softly. There’s an unplaceable look in his eyes as he stares at the liquid in his glass, before taking a chug. Montagne still swears there’s a blush to his cheeks, but the lighting still obscures the colors of his face.

    The two chat, occasionally accompanied by another couple, but mostly they talk amongst themselves. Montagne learns a lot in their chatter--like how Elias is pretty good at a lot of sports, but can’t shoot a hoop to save his life. Or that he was in a choir when he was younger, but never pursued music because he’d choke up on stage, though he can’t help but sing while doing the dishes. In turn, Gilles tells him tidbits about himself. Tells him his love of old country guitars, tells him he hates the winter because he gets so cold, tells him he of the times he and his brothers would sneak into their sisters’ room and hide their dolls in odd places around the house. The last one getting a good laugh out of the younger man.

    After what seemed like hours of talking, Ash walked up on stage and addressed them all.

    “I hope everyone’s been having fun! Now it’s the moment you’ve been waiting for!” she announces, lifting the cloth off both the table and large obelisk on stage. They reveal a turntable and huge speaker accordingly. The lights somehow dim even further, leaving most of the ballroom in shadow. A large portion of the dance hall lights up under a disco ball, its tiny mirrors casting orbs of light that twirl on the floor. Anyone who was sitting down immediately jumps to their feet, grabbing their partners and guiding, or in some cases dragging, them to the dance floor.

    Montagne watches wistfully as the operators sway slowly with the beat of the music. Castle picked a good song, an old one he recognizes from the many times it’s played while someone’s cooking or cleaning on base. There’s a pressure on his shoulder. When he looks it turns out to be Elias’s hand.

    “Do you...want to dance?” he asks, and this time Montagne is certain the man’s face has gone red. He smiles, takes his hand and the two of them go to the outskirts of the dance area. 

    “Sorry if I step on your shoes, I have two left feet.” the german chuckles. 

        They waltz and step to the music, making small movements so as to not step on each other, but soon they get into a rhythm. Elias has rested his head on Gilles’s shoulder, while the older man feels like he’s having a revelation. Everything felt just so right. Like god has molded Elias to fit perfectly in his arms, and that Gilles was sculpted to perfectly hold Elias. It felt so good, Montagne never wanted to let go.

    They danced. And danced and danced, until the music stopped. Gilles wasn’t even aware that most of the operators left, save for a few stragglers trying to get their drunk dates to a hotel room for some sleep and water. Elias still had his head buried in the space between Gilles’s neck and shoulder.

    “What time is it?” he heard him mumble.

    Montagne reached into his pocket, pulling out his phone.

    “It’s almost one in the morning.” he said as Elias pulled away. The older man felt himself missing the contact, the cool air of the ballroom almost immediately replacing the younger man’s warmth. 

    “Can’t believe you made me dance past midnight.” he joked, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes with a forefinger and thumb. 

    “Someone mentioned free hotel rooms…” Gilles murmured.

    “At this point, I don’t mind paying. I don’t want to drive home.” Elias yawned.

——————————————————————-

Everyone he had talked to about the party seemingly forgot to leave out that the hotel booked one room per two guests. One room with one bed. How cliche. But at this point Montagne didn’t really care, snagging to key from the receptionist. He met up with Elias, who was sitting on a chair nearby, looking ready to pass out.

“We get a room?”

“Yes, I hope you don’t mind sharing the bed.” Gilles replied. 

Elias just shook his head, stretching his arms above his head with a yawn. The two made their way out of the brightly lit lobby to a nearby hallway. Thankfully they didn’t need to go far--their room was on the first floor. 

“Oh hey,” Elias perked up, stopping Gilles, “do you mind if I get a water real fast?” the younger man pointed to a closed door, the sign tacked on it read ‘Ice and Vending Machines’. Gilles let him go, waiting only a few seconds before Elias popped back out, face a lot redder than before.

    “Is everything...alright?” Gilles asked, eyebrows furrowed.

    Elias cleared his throat, “Ah yep! Just uh, well. Now I know just how intimate Taina and Emma are.” he stuttered.

Montagne couldn’t help but chuckle. 

The room appeared before them after a minute of walking. Gilles swiped the card, clicking open the door and flicking on the nearest light. The room itself was cozy, the walls a warm tan color against a navy blue carpet. Though small, it still had a countertop with a coffee machine and mini fridge stuffed underneath. Popping it open, Gilles took out two water bottles, handing one to Elias. With a small thanks the younger man chugged it down, sighing when finished. 

The two stood in the room. The tension in the air was tangible, like a static buildup. But Montagne let the feeling pass over him, and didn't want to impose on the younger man. Elias took a step forward.

“I, uh, had a really fun time tonight.” finally meeting Gilles’s eyes. 

“I’m glad.” he hummed back. Elias took another step forward.

“If you wanted to do this next year, I wouldn’t be opposed to it.” he said gently, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. They were close now, barely inches away. Gilles leaned down a bit, taking in everything he could. From the wrinkles shirt, to his reddening ears and messy hair.

“And I…” he begins, but cuts himself off. Their faces are inches away, perfect for kissing.

And so they do.

It’s a step beyond incredible. Montagne hasn’t felt this elated in years. Elias’s lips are surprisingly soft and as warm as the rest of him. He tastes like champagne and chocolate, fitting for someone as sweet as him. They stay there a moment, simply enjoying the touch as they continue to kiss, Montagne winding his arms around him. After what seems like hours, they eventually part, breaths still close enough to intermingle.

Elias laughs, embracing Gilles back, “So now that we got that out of the way, can we sleep now?” he jokes tiredly.

Montagne pecks the top of his head, “Of course mon amour.”

It takes an enormous amount of effort to get to bed, neither of them wanting to move, to let go. Gilles makes the first move, taking a hand and guiding Blitz to the bed. They kick off their shoes and climb into the bed, which was thankfully big enough for the two of them. Not like it mattered--as soon as both were in bed they huddled close, Montagne wrapping an arm around Blitz’s waist, and Blitz slipping his feet between Montagne calves. They sit in silence for a moment. Gilles can feel the younger man sigh against his neck as he rubs circles in his shoulders.

“Goodnight Elias, I love you.” Montagne hums. He’s not sure if Elias hears him at first, the shorter man’s head is stuffed under his chin, until he hears him squeak a reply.

“I love you too.” 

Montagne grins, letting the warmth of the other man overtake him, helping him drift to sleep. 

[shark-el]

this fic was based off of a conversion I had with @born-at-3am​ about how Baz's first name (Tyrannus) sounds like a dinosaur name, and well lets just say I was really bored one day and decided to write this. this is the first fic I've written since middle school, and the first one I've ever published. Eh whatever I hope you guys enjoy and that its not to bad, but I wrote this for fun and I guess that's what matters right?? Any way here's my crack-fic.

link to the fic on AO3

summary: 

 Baz is tutoring Simon in magic words because Penny isn't there, and things go pretty much as you'd expect, aka a total disaster!

but Jurassic times call for Jurassic measures.

Tyrannusaurus-rex

Baz

We're in magic words class and I've been assigned to babysit Simon snow, a job usually reserved for Bunce but she's sick with some sort of highly infectious disease leaving her quarantine and bed ridden.

So of course I have the ‘absolute pleasure’ that is tutoring snow on his magic words homework.

We're sitting at his desk and it's awkward.

Even though we've been roommates for five years now, we never really talk. Unless it's to pick a fight, Which normally end up in me saying some witty retort or insult, and snow growls at me, his magic bubbling up to the suffice the like hot water in a tea kettle, then proceeds to storm out of the room slamming the door behind him.

I can see the visual discomfort and anger on his face at having to not only sit next to me but also at having me explain to him what to do. He's always had such an expressive (and beautiful) face.

“Listen snow i don't want to do this ether but let's just get it over with, and hope for Crowley's sake that Bunce gets well back soon”

“You're probably the one who made Penny sick in the first place, don't know how or why but definitely for some plot or somethin’ ”' he mutters under his breath, and I suppress a snort. That's another thing about Snow he always thinks I'm up to something, has for years now. Sure sometimes he's right, but normally it's all in his head, though I never confirm or deny it which always drives him mad.

Raising one eyebrow I say as sarcastically as possible “Yes snow i contracted some sort of diseases to get Bunce sick just so i can sit next to you, and teach you how to transform inanimate objects”

He just rolls his eyes at me. A clear since I've won yet again.

I just smirk at him  and take in the silence, letting his glare settle on me.

I pretend not to notice as i say “Anyway, Snow this is a simple spell, one not even you could possibly be able to mess up''

He just grimaces and continues glaring at me, I don't know how I'm supposed to survive two full hours of this, but ill make due.

We're supposed to transform a stuffed animal from one creature to another. I of course mastered this in the first five minutes, which is how I got myself into this miserable situation in the first place.

Snow decided to turn him into a dinosaur.

After about half an hour of working on emphasis and pronunciations for the spell, an infuriating process that involved repeating the words ``life err...finds a way” from Jurassic park, several times in many different ways. We moved on to the wand movement which he was holding all wrong, as always. I don't know how Bunce can deal with tutoring him all the time, he's just so useless (it's kind of endearing in a way, though I'd never admit it).

“No snow, don't be so harsh with it. it's more of a fluid motion, like this” and I demonstrate with my wand.

“Oh sod off, I tried that already it doesn't work” he says exasperated.

“Well try again” I say frustrated.

He begrudgingly tries again.

wrong, again.

He’s such a fumbling disaster I can't decide whether it's infuriating or adorable.

He's on his seventh try and I sort of just stare at him (because he's trying so hard, and it's cute, and I can't help myself. thankfully he doesn't notice), he just needs some direction maybe if I just?...

No, I can't. sitting next to him is bad enough. if I reach out and help direct him with my hand. I don't know if I'd be able to stop myself from doing something I'll regret.

I'm fantasizing about his warm hand holding mine, hands clasped together just slightly intertwined at the fingertips (because I'm a useless romantic and I can't help myself) when I'm struck back to reality with a bang.

Blinking twice I realize it's the sound of snow smashing his fist in anger on the desk, and I can tell he's about to go off by the feeling of hot thick magic beginning to flow everywhere around us.

“Calm down snow” I practically yell.

“I'm trying!” he shouts back.

I waver between wanting to help calm him down and egging him on, making him go off by saying something to make him even more frustrated, and this time with his full rage focused on me, maybe he'd be so mad he’d pin me to the wall and… (oh Crowley I'm disturbed).

I settle on letting him calm down on his own since me helping him calm down would probably put him even more on edge.

“Ok let's  take a break for a few minutes Snow, I need to go get some air” I say and take my leave.

As I walk through the corridor outside of class trying to clear my head, and realizing we weren't making any progress, so I decide maybe i should try a different approach to teaching him, (though it pains me) encouragement.

When I come back he’s mostly calmed down.

I sit next to him and I say in the most encouraging way I can “ok, are you ready to try again?”

“Yah I guess” he says exhausted, like he normally is after he almost goes off.

he holds out his wand again hands shaking, he’s worked himself up too much at this point.

“Snow I know you're trying but the spell won't work if your hand isn't stabile”

“I know, I know it's just…” he starts but doesn't continue, voice tired and faint.

“Do you want help?” I say softly, don't know why I asked that he'd never agree, but now it's too late to take it back.

He nods.

I don't know how to react, but I reach out my hand to help steady him (someone should probably help steady me at this point).

Simon

Baz is reaching out his hand, somewhere in the back of my mind I know he's doing it to help me, but my body reacts and panics before he can, since I'm not used to him actually helping me.

I stop thinking.

I'm watching myself spin toward him and chant the spell more clearly and precisely than I've done all day.

The next thing i know Baz is standing there in front of me, only its not Baz its a T-rex, about 2 feet tall with dark grey scales and pointy teeth, sort ’a like the plushie I imagined except alive (well as alive as a vampire dinosaur can be) and glaring at me with pure fury in his eyes.

At first I'm just surprised that it actually worked!

Then I want to apologize and tell him it was a reflex, and that I actually did want his help. when the full reality of the situation and how utterly absurd it is catches up with me then I'm doubled over on the floor laughing before I can stop myself.

I can't breathe, this is too much, I actually can't!

After about two or three minutes of me laughing hysterically on the floor clenching my stomach, tears streaming down my face, I take a deep breath.

I'm about to calm down when I realize something else that makes this entire situation a whole lot funnier.

“Baz you’re a Tyrannusaurus-rex!” I blurt out and that sends me into another fit of laughter.

I think I can faintly hear Baz say “Snow stop laughing, and try to find a way to turn me back!” in an angry and exasperated tone, which would have scared me shitless if the spell hadn't also made him sound like a plushie (or at least how you'd expect one to sound like).

But after a moment I am terrified because if I don't die of laughter, Baz will happily do the honors (though that's nothing new).

If you guys have gotten this far thank you so much, I will now reward you with a picture of Tyrannusaurus-rex:

[goodtimingz]

dreaming you would come true

intro. pt1. pt2. pt3. pt4. pt5.

AN: i am so sorry this is terrible and i’m pining for this experience. it took so long and im sorry 😭💗 ty for reading

tags: studentlife, jae day6, fluff, college!au, sexual acts implied.

: the one where you meet jae in your second year of college and it’s basically love at first sight. just little excerpts of what i think a relationship w jae would be like c:

2k words

As time goes by, as my feelings grow, I’m becoming more anxious.

Jae was great at many things, playing guitar, singing, annoying you, collecting hoodies, skateboarding (Ehh), but he wasn’t good at one thing.

Losing.

Which is exactly what he was doing at the moment. The boys had decided to play a game of basketball before their first-year friend Dowoon returned home over the break. It was close to midnight and freezing, but the burn of competition heated Jae as he attempted to steal the ball from Younghyun.

“Park Jaehyung, when are you heading back again?” Kim Wonpil had a way of being annoying that totally matched Jae’s wavelength. It pissed him off and simultaneously made him affectionate to the boy.

Last week when Wonpil had walked in on the two of you, Jae had watched as you scolded Wonpil for acting so stern while he sat there shyly. He would never admit that Wonpil had low-key scared him for a second, because he resembled a bunny and it was embarrassing for Jae's pride.

“Ya, Kim Wonpil you should knock! You’re the one who poured the wine last night!” Wonpil had winced at your voice most-likely as hungover as Jae and you.

Jae can remember the cute frown on your face like it was 10minutes ago. He adored you and he had pulled Wonpil aside later on, making sure to get into his good books considering how close you were to him. 

“Jae are you gonna answer me, or continue defending terribly?”

“I wouldn’t have to defend terribly if someone could actually guard Dowoon.”

Wonpil rolled his eyes at that, stealing the ball from Younghyun (miraculously). “I’m heading back on Saturday, so you have 3 more days with me and Y/N!” A cheesy, shit-eating grin spread across Jae’s face as he received the ball from Wonpil.

“How are you and Y/N?” Younghyun yelled as he subbed with Sungjin. Sungjin was a funny guy to be around and Jae had met him in the cafeteria one day. He wasn’t awkward but he was different to most guys Jae had met. Nevertheless the 4 guys (excluding Jae.) totally vibed and that’s all Jae cared about.

The more times Jae was reminded of you, the more he wanted to put the ball down and text you. You’d been talking all week about how sad you were that you couldn’t go home for the break. He wanted to stay with you more than ever. The beginning of the relationship was always the most fun and he hated being apart from you. He hadn’t even formally asked to be his girlfriend yet and he was kicking himself for it.

,

“You call this playing?” You grinned watching Jae’s face crack a wide smile. The boys paused the game briefly to greet you. Wonpil mumbled, “Speak of the devil..” and you walked over to him for the sole purpose of shoving him gently.

“Now that Y/N’s here I guess you’ll step up your game, huh?” Younghyun teased Jae only to receive a shove from Jae. (You were one in the same.)

You walked over to the seats, too tired to try and distract the group any longer. Jae had told you earlier in the day that he’d be playing with the boys - which was a common occurance, so you’d busied yourself with trying to find a gift to give him before he left you for the break. After hours of searching, Wonpil had texted you to join them for a Macca’s run at 11pm.

So there you were, shivering slightly because winter had finally settled in. Your eyes were stuck on watching Jae play. His laugh, the cute expression he had while focusing, the way his lanky body swiftly moved. What in the world would bring him happiness that didn't break the bank? (student budget was a b*tch).

Everything about him was really really attractive to you and you couldn’t understand how you’d gotten so lucky to have him. Although he had yet to put a label on it, his arm naturally hung over your shoulder when you were together - which was every other day. You always received the weirdest texts from him throughout the day, and if you weren’t together, the night was when you’d get a “You wanna get boba?” “Let’s go to the skate park!” “Y/N come walk with him :( i’m bored.” All of these messages obviously melted your heart and you could only accept his requests.

However, your time together was running short with Jae flying home for the semester break. As the time grew closer a weird feeling in your stomach grew too, something like anxiousness combined with sadness. Without a label, would he still talk to you? You two never video-called unless you were in the same room trying to annoy each other. And even worse, when he returned would he still want you?

Stuck in your thoughts, you barely noticed the game had ended as Jae placed his denim jacket over your shoulders. 


“You’re shivering so much Y/N.” His tone was light while his hands caring, rubbing your shoulders to create warmth. You leaned into his touch, smiling up at him. The thoughts from earlier washed away the minute Jae came into view, which always happened. He felt like home and you were desperate not to let it go.

You both stood and Jae was quick to bring you closer to his side. He wore a beige hoodie and ripped jeans as usual, but he somehow made the basics look so good. “Don’t you wanna walk with the boys? Isn’t Dowoon leaving tomorrow?” You turned to look into Jae’s eyes before realising just how close you were. You could feel his warm breath fan across your lips. Watching the way Jae’s eyes took in all of your features made you feel both flustered and warm. His eyes dropped to your lips and just as he began leaning in, Dowoon’s deep voice shrieked. Everyone froze, eyes on Dowoon who clutched his chest. “I thought I saw a ghost cat, but it was just a real cat!”

Because that was definitely worth cock-blocking. (Read: thanks dowoon.)

After hanging out with the group and eating too many fries, Jae walked you home with Wonpil. All of your soul wanted to ask him to stay by your side that night. He was flying out so soon and he hadn’t slept over since the drunk-blue-hair night, which in your opinion was far too long. You didn’t want to ask in fear that Wonpil would intrude or make things awkward, but you really just wanted to hug and talk for hours even though it totally didn’t suit Jae’s character. He didn’t seem the kind to be awkward but he definitely didn’t seem the kind to initiate the cuddle-session either.

"What's a bet I can stay in your dorm without Wonpil noticing?" With a smirk on his lips and his voice so close to your ear, you shivered unintentionally. Did he just read your mind? Jae watched in amusement, pulling your head into his chest mid step, "Hey Y/N don't get too excited!"

You threw him a bashful smile, egging him on. "You can try."

Wonpil looked back at the two of you suspiciously which in turn left the two of you giggling. You loved that boy like a big-brother.

,

Jae had succeeded. He had to hide behind a door for about 10minutes while Wonpil was in your room, and received a lot of weird glances but it was definitely worth it. The way you stood in front of him in your PJ's was enough to make Jae melt. But he couldn't help but notice the way your eyes glanced around without really paying attention to anything, and the way your hands fiddled with the hem of your shirt nervously.

Something about you seemed off. He tugged the bottom of your shirt to bring you closer, watching your expression closely.

"What's up Y/N?"

Jae couldn't have guessed that would start the water-works but he watched as your face crumbled. Without a second thought he took you in his arms and brushed your hair away from your face. The way your hot tears fell onto his neck made his heart ache, he was confused but the sadness felt as though it radiated through your body and into his. You two had barely been this intimate before, you on his lap and his arms around your waist.

After a few minutes of silence besides your sniffles you pull away from him, wiping his neck with your sweater paws. "I'm sorry, your hoodie is all wet." Jae's thoughts raced and he could care less about his soaked shoulder. He searched your eyes with worry, waving off your statement. Your silence and the way you gazed off into space urged Jae on.

“You look so ugly when you cry, I find it beautiful.” Jae spoke softly, using his thumb to wipe away your tears. (lyrics from their song)

,

You wanted to shove him and glare at him but you couldn’t control the laugh that exited your lips. It was so random and back-handed but with good intention, just like Jae always way.

“You’re not supposed to say that Jae, you’re not supposed to see my cry at all.” Your tone is playful but the tears are still flowing and your voice hoarse. Usually you’d be embarrassed to show this kind of face to the boy you like but it was Jae. The past month had been so stressful and so fun with him. You felt like you finally had someone to mess around with at 3am when you couldn’t escape your thoughts. Finally someone who wanted to be with you without barriers.

The smile on Jae's face washed away his worried expression and gave you the confidence to confess your thoughts.

"Will you still talk to me over the break?" Your voice was meek when you spoke.

It was embarrassing to be so vulnerable and the position you were in didn't help at all. The warmth of being in Jae's arms and the way his thumb rubbed comfortingly on your hips felt so safe.

"Of course I will Y/N." Jae seemed so certain, his words filled with comfort. You sighed a breath of relief, but the suspicion and fear built high in your chest. As if Jae could sense it, he spoke again.

"I'm sorry I didn't ask you to be my girlfriend sooner... I was worried you would think I'm rushing things."

The way he talked with a slight pout made you want to pinch his cute cheeks. Trust Jae not to rush things, he either made decisions based on a whim, or after hours and days of preparation.

"Jae, I like you more than you know... I don't know what it is about you but I feel so at home with you." You could feel the blush rising on your cheeks but the words felt so important. You watched Jae's expression closely, happy to see a small smile.

"I know this is kind of bad timing, but I feel it too. I really like being around you, is there a chance I could call a girl like you mine?" It was so cheesy, the way you sat on his lap suddenly felt overwhelming and perfect. Jae was obviously embarrassed but you could only lean up to quickly kiss him before nodding happily. Home. The feeling was back and it was without worry.

"Thank gosh." Jae's whole body relaxed beneath you and he leaned in again, this time with his grip on your waist a little tighter. The kiss began innocent until you felt his hands run up and down your sides, sending sparks in their trail.

You placed your arms around his neck before swinging your legs to straddle his waist just wanting - craving to feel closer to him.

"I'll show you how much you matter to me." Suddenly Jae's voice was deep and husky as his hands slipped beneath your sweater. The feeling of your hot skin meeting his cold touch filled your stomach with bundles of nerves.

Cuddling and talking would come later... For now the only thing you want to remember is the feeling of Jae’s touch and the shared urge to be closer.

[perseusjackson-jasongrace]

His Blood Runs Gold III

Percy is a God: Part III

Here’s my masterlist for the next part and my other stuff

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they made you into a weapon

and told you to find peace.

They travelled for hours by the light of the moon. Conversation was sparse and restricted to the quest, made clear only by Jason’s refusal to answer anything beyond that.

“I don’t know how long to follow the star for,” The demigod was mumbling, staring into the skies.

“Leave it to a prophecy to be as vague as possible.”

“Can’t you use your godly-hood to help?”

“You know it doesn’t work like that.” Percy frowned.

“Yea I know but it was worth the shot,” Jason sighed.

“What do the arrows look like?”

“Hah, you should know the lovely divine would never tell us such helpful details.”

He laughed, “I remember frantically searching for Zeus’ lightning bolt on my first quest. We didn’t know how it would appear and then suddenly it was in my backpack while we faced the God of the Underworld. Fear had never tasted so deadly before.”

“Tell me about it. Trying to slay that damn Trojan monster felt like a one-way ticket to the end of the road.”

Percy shuddered as moments from various quests reeled through his mind.

“Guess nothing much changes, hey?” Jason huffed. “I’m still going on fatal quests for spoiled Gods.”

“At least this time you have one of those Gods by your side,” He joked

“Are you admitting that you’re spoilt?”

“Am I?”

“I don’t know Percy Jackson, are you?”

He turned his head, to see blue eyes piercing into him. “This is a pointless conversation.”

Jason mumbled something under his breath before turning forward again.

“What have you been doing these last years?”

“I’m sure Reyna has kept you updated.” The bite in those words tore at Percy’s gut.

“She just told me you were volunteering for every quest or burying yourself in camp activities.”

“Yea well it’s a good distraction from the flaming pool of horror that is my life.”

“What?”

Ignoring the question, the blonde gestured to the land below them, “You think you can use your godliness to find the arrows, so I don’t have to do this?”

“If I knew I would have gone to get them myself.”

“Well what’s the point then?” Lightning flickered in those eyes.

“What’s the point of… me?”

“Yes.” Jason glared, “What is the point of you Percy?”

“You asked me to protect you?”

“I asked you,” The demigod gritted, “To guide me.”

Percy swallowed the snap of pain, “What was the prophecy?”

Jason gave him a look, but recited the words:

Go north and follow the brightest star

Retrieve the arrow of foe but gain a scar

When you move on to the land of old

Find what you seek in a heart of gold

Indeed Son of Jupiter and Child of Greece

When this is over you will find peace

“That actually seems nice. It says you’ll find peace.”

“When does the prophecy ever say something it actually means?”

“Well I don’t know what else that could mean?” He frowned, confused.

“It probably, most definitely means I’m gonna die, but fuck it right? There’s not much to live for these days anyway.”

“Jason what are you talking about? This isn’t like you at all.”

“Yea well I stopped being like me three years ago when my best friend faked his death, and my other best friend left me to become a god, and my girlfriend admitted she didn’t ‘love me that way’ and she ‘needed space’,”

Percy reeled back in shock as blow after blow was delivered.

“So I’m sorry I’m not really ‘up to life’ these days. Forgive me.”

“Why didn’t you ever tell me any of this?” He asked softly, willing Zarya to move forward.

“How could I have told you I was breaking apart when you were finally starting to stitch yourself back together? You had just become a God, and you and Annabeth were so– so happy.” Bitter was a horrid taste.

The Son of Jupiter turned to face the God once more, “You guys were even going to therapy together. You seemed care-free for once and I didn’t want to ruin that. It just seemed better to drift away, to keep myself.” Tears pooled and spilled over golden cheeks.

“Oh Jase,” Percy whispered, and with half a gallop the demigod was in his arms.

“I can’t believe you’ve felt so alone all this time. I’m sorry you thought you couldn’t come to me. I– I should have been a better friend.”

At this the sobs increased, wracking his whole body.

It may have been seconds, or minutes, or hours while the two sat on their mounts, embracing each other, pulling themselves together.

When they broke apart, it was Jason who gave a watery smile, “Thank you.”

“I missed you Grace.”

“I missed you too Jackson.”

And as the sun came up the half-blood and the God used those rays of light to fill in the cracks of their friendship.

When Jason lolled forward in exhaustion Percy picked him up and with a nod to Tempest and Zarya, descended to the earth once more.

From what he could tell they were still in the North Atlantic Ocean but fast heading towards the South. If he had to guess, they would reach the equator within another night’s travel and Polaris– the North Star– would disappear.

If his hunch was correct, they would find Eros’ arrow at the place that separates the earth’s hemispheres; and the half-blood in his arms, who was born for the skies might dismay that it rests between the African and South American coasts. Percy would think on it all tomorrow. For now, he formed a bubble around Jason and dropped him into the sea before diving after him.

He didn’t need to rest really, not anymore, so he kept watch as his friend slept. He spent the time talking to the creatures that passed; helped a little seal who had got caught in a fishermen’s net, and munched on some ambrosia. It was weird to not have to monitor how much of the godly food he was eating– weird that the burning sensation after eating more than one small piece didn’t race up his throat.

He didn’t have to eat as much unless he was expending power. He supposed it was convenient that he really only needed these golden squares to survive, but he missed gorging himself on cheeseburgers after a fight and washing everything down with coke.

With a sigh, he tucked the rest of the ambrosia into the folds of the waves, and watched as it disappeared. He knew it floated in the between, waiting to be summoned once more, as with everything he had but didn’t need. It reminded him of the tool-belt Leo Valdez wore.

Percy smiled softly as he remembered his reunion with Leo. The demigod had knocked on the door of Sally’s apartment, Calypso in tow, and demanded to know why Percy hadn’t been at camp-half blood or SPQR for almost six months. When his mom had explained that he was a god Leo had burst into flames because he was so excited. Percy popped in just in time, pulling water from the kitchen taps and dousing the demigod and the plants that had caught alight. After a long and bruising hug, the two had talked for hours.

He was surprised to find that seeing Calypso again wasn’t awkward. In fact, after they had gotten teary catch-ups and soft squeezes out the way, her and Sally had disappeared to the garden leaving him and Leo to tackle the enchiladas his mom had been making for lunch.

Over the next years Percy often found himself walking into his mom’s house only to see Leo, and most times Calypso, sitting around the kitchen table or on the couch playing with Estelle. Sally had practically adopted the two, claiming that having Leo around reminded her of Percy when he was young- so full of buzzing energy and always busy, busy, busy with his hands. Paul, who by now could see through the mist relatively well, was fascinated by Leo’s power and Calypso’s extensive knowledge of history so he was happy to have them there too.

It was entirely ludicrous that fire and water could become such good friends but there was something about Leo that made Percy feel energized, awake, alive. in the rare moments that Percy had more than a few days on his hands, the two would get lost in video games, egging each other one, and creating general chaos in his mom’s house. It helped that the demigod made a mean plate of tacos and used his power to make the cheese all melty.

He was grateful, beyond grateful, that he had found someone who reminded him of his old life. Who kept him tied to the fun, child-like wonder he had so long possessed. He feared if he ever lost that, he would truly be a spoilt god indeed.

Pulling himself from his memories he turned to check on Jason and sighed softly at the peaceful look in the half-blood’s face. It was times like this, when he was surrounded by sea with only his thoughts to keep him company, that he felt most godly; strange he knew. But something about currents matched the constant push and pull of his mind. He became more ocean than being.

So Percy Jackson, God of protection and guidance, floated in the blue Atlantic waters and waited for his protégé to rest.

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[chaoswillfallrpg]

ALECTO CARROW is TWENTY-FOUR YEARS OLD and a BARMAID at THE GRAVE AFFAIR in KNOCKTURN ALLEY. She looks remarkably like ABIGAIL COWEN and considers herself NEUTRAL. She is currently TAKEN.

→ OVERVIEW:

tw: death

An agent of chaos, Alecto Carrow is the kind of witch who likes to keep people guessing. The youngest of the Carrow twins by a few minutes, Alecto grew up shielded by her brother AMYCUS who took the brunt for a lot of their shared schemes. A mischievous child, Alecto was the bane of her mother’s existence. IRIS HOOKUM had married into the Carrow family with the best intentions, pouncing on EROS CARROW who had recently been bereaved. The only Carrow left as Dragon Pox had taken his family, his parents had made him promise to carry forth their family name and keep their line pure. Iris certainly took advantage of his grief and although she wasn’t his ideal choice she was the perfect Pure-Blood wife. Laughing  with the likes of DRUELLA BLACK and MARIE LESTRANGE, cutting off her family before her husband and throwing such splendid parties it would have been easy to mistake her for a member of the Twenty-Eight since birth. Only Alecto spoiled her mother’s aspirations. Alecto enjoyed doing things for shock value, which only worsened as her powers began to spiral out of control. When she was seven she watched as a cake floated across the room and landed on NARCISSA BLACK, spoiling her beautiful white dress which was stained cherry red from the garnishing. Arguments with her mother sometimes resulted in the chopping up of her favourite handmade spider silk gowns and Merlin bless anyone who tried to force her into a dress.

Unsuspecting victims were always the favourite target of Alecto, but poor house elves who would attempt to make her presentable were also unsafe from her fury. When it came to her father, Alecto often came out unscathed. A gleaming little grin on her porcelain features. Iris Carrow knew her daughter was the devil incarnate, but to Eros she could do no wrong, mostly because her brother often took ownership for her wickedness. As the slightly older twin, Amycus was always very happy to say he had dared his sister to do things or had held something over her head to behave the way she did. Iris knew he was only doing it to be kind to his sister but despite their mother’s protests Eros took his confession at face value and so Iris and Eros believed they had brought two very naughty children into the world who egged the other one on. They were not completely wrong. Although Alecto was often the instigator, Amycus was more than happy to go along with anything she proposed and did also suggest people to torment or new ideas for them to try. The main difference between Alecto and Amycus was a small but vital one. Alecto was a better liar and was sneaky enough to not get caught unless it was what she intended. Amycus loved her enough to take the hit and whilst she loved him deeply, Alecto Carrow would always love herself more than anyone else. At Hogwarts, Alecto’s chaotic ways followed her. She spent the majority of her time irritating others rather than actually focusing on her education.

Sorted into Slytherin she was the favourite of mischievous boys. WILLIAM GOYLE in particular was always happy to run away with her on her schemes, whist VICTOR YAXLEY was happy to involve himself in anything that involved targeting his sister ELEANOR. Despite making new friends, Amycus was still her best friend and the pair stuck together through thick and thin, sitting at the back of PROFESSOR BINNS’ classroom, chewing sweets and spitting them out at unsuspecting mudbloods, MEAGHAN MCCORMACK and ARASH MORADI. Out of all those she terrorised, TILDEN TOOTS was someone who intrigued Alecto. Tilden would always fight his own corner, hurling insults and hexes her way that gave her the biggest thrill. Alecto respected Tilden, though she would never admit it to him. Her targeting of him at school made her a number of enemies. SAOIRSE MACMILLAN, SYBILL TRELAWNEY, EVE DIGGORY, EDGAR BONES and AUGUSTUS ABBOTT made it their mission to spoil her fun, though Alecto didn’t let them get in the way all that much. Frequently in dentition, Alecto eft Hogwarts with very minimal qualifications and not a lot of prospects. Arriving back at her family home, Alecto was ready to enjoy the rest of her life as a socialite in London, causing trouble at large gatherings and living at Carrow House on the outskirts of South West London but Iris had other ideas. No sooner had the twins turned twenty-one and they were out into society with their mother working hard to procure them marriage contracts. 

Eros had little interest in interfering in the affairs of his wife and children, as long as they eventually came to marry into Pure-Blood families and ensured at least one of them had an heir to one day inherit their house he was completely uninterested. A carousel of people would come to Carrow House to attend events held there, all thrown in the hopes of attracting someone to take on Alecto. When she was all finished and dressed in her finery, Alecto Carrow was so beautiful that her flaming red hair and piercing green eyes could rival that of Narcissa’s widely discussed good looks. But finding someone to handle Alecto would be her mother’s biggest fear. With no sorcerer seemingly up to the task it was Iris instruction that Eros begin playing cards with other notable families, in the hopes of getting into the good books of someone who would hopefully not have heard of Alecto’s wickedness enough to consider her a potential daughter-in-law. With EELIS BLACK in attendance at the bequest of his wife with no interest in gambling away any of his hard earned money, he was quite quick to offer up his son CAIUS BURKE to Alecto’s father, having seen a photograph of her and knowing her last name were enough to please both his wife and son. Alecto’s mother was overjoyed. Alecto on the other hand was less than impressed. A very self-assured and independent witch, the fact she had been offered up to a boy without her say had bothered her immensely, but instead of arguing with her mother she decided to do things her way and drive Caius away herself.

To her surprise, Alecto found that Caius had as much self-confidence as she did, was a terrible flirt and was so intent on pleasing his mother he was willing to marry her despite her horrid personality. Except to Caius she wasn’t horrid at all, she was a mysterious challenge he wanted to figure out like the artefacts which sat in his family shop. The more Alecto tried to outwit him, the more he surprised her and somewhere along the way she began to feel some genuine attraction toward him. Suddenly becoming Alecto Burke didn’t seem like the worst idea in the world, she liked Caius far more than anyone else her mother had attempted to throw her together with, but just as she found a prospect she was pleased with fate pulled out the rug from under her. Eros’ gambling was the reason her marriage contract had been drawn up and it was the reason it was also ripped apart. It seemed her father had enjoyed gambling a little too much and had found himself in a considerable amount of debt and the deed to their home in the hands of CECCILY GREENGRASS Due to her fondness for gossip and a tip off to RITA SKEETER it soon became known the Carrow family were broke. Iris had no money from the Hookum family as a result of her cutting them off and their father had gambled away whatever else they had. Iris was outraged and Amycus and Alecto who had never worked a day in their lives were promptly turned out into London to attempt to find work with their pitiful grades and notoriety as purists.

The only people who would take any pity on them were ANDRESSA and CHRISTIANO PARKINSON who saw something in the twins they thought was worth nurturing. What Alecto lacked in ability as a witch she made up for in intellect, tact and manipulation. Alecto Carrow had a way of reading people, she knew what they wanted, what they liked and what to say to get people to part with information and with their money. Twirling her long red hair around her pale finger, Alecto is known to be able to get high profile people into The Grave Affair and set them on a course of ordering the most expensive things on the menu. When she gets bored, Alecto and her brother fill their time by pickpocketing easy targets, making bets with one another as to who can get the most money at the end of the evening they then tell the Parkinson twins they earned in tips. It was a simple life for two people who thought they’d be sipping champagne in paradise for the rest of their lives, but strangely Alecto was happy. There was only one thing bothering her, something she didn’t know she wanted until she was told by his mother she couldn’t have it. Caius Burke. Alecto has overheard it being talked about that Caius’ mother is set to marry him off to ADRASTEIA GREENGRASS who curates the menu and creates the cocktails for The Grave Affair and currently holds the deeds to her house. Intent on reinstating their family name, wealth and wiping Adrasteia off the face of the earth, Alecto is determined to ensure she is once again given her rightful place in society. Whatever it takes.

ADDITIONAL INFORMATION:

Blood Status → Pure-Blood

Pronouns → She/Her

Identification → Cis Female

Sexuality  → Up to Roleplayer

Relationship Status → Single

Previous Education →  Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry (Slytherin)

Societies → Pura Sorores

Family → Amycus Carrow (brother/best friend/colleague), Primrose Jorkins (estranged cousin), Daisy Hookum (estranged cousin), Poppy Hookum (estranged cousin/adversary)

Connections  → William Goyle (best friend), Victor Yaxley (close friend), Lucie Hollow (close friend), Persephone Wilkes (close friend), Beatrice Davies (close friend), Violet Bulstrode (friend), Eleanor Yaxley (friend/colleague), Narcissa Black (friend), Rabastan Lestrange (friend), Caius Burke (friend/object of interest), Andressa Parkinson (boss), Christiano Parkinson (boss), Adrasteia Greengrass (colleague/adversary), Cecily Greengrass (adversary), Rita Skeeter (adversary), Tilden Toots (adversary), Saoirse MacMillan (adversary), Augustus Abbott (adversary), Eve Diggory (adversary), Sybill Trelawney (adversary), Edgar Bones (adversary)

Future Information → Eventual Death Eater, Muggle Studies Teacher at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

ALECTO CARROW IS A LEVEL 3 WITCH.

[stevenuniversetanzanite]

Fallen Angel (Venable X reader) Part 2

I mentioned this extending over multiple characters. I assume most people read for all her ahs characters, so I don’t think how I am going this will be a problem.

I have two/three chapters written for the prequel (which is with Cordelia) which will go with this collection, I guess it would be called. If you want me to post the first two of that I probably could, the only problem is it will explain the reader’s deal. So if anyone wants it I could post it otherwise, it will wait.

Summary/idea: Two strangers come to ‘save’ the occupants of outpost 3. Neither are what they seem.

Warnings: N/A

Parts: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3 , Part 4, Part 5 (Will add as I go)

Ms Venable couldn't wrap her head around the pure insanity of the new girl. She was completely bonkers in every single way, she shouldn't trust a word that left your mouth. You were the only one who knew Michael before he arrived at the outpost if anyone knew his true intentions it would be his business partner. Whether your words were valuable, well that would only show with time. If she took everything you said with a grain of salt then what's the harm in hearing you out. I mean, how can she trust a girl who forgot she ate someone else's meal? Or, claims she hadn't eaten since '92? She didn't even look old enough to be born then.

She kept an eye on the girl, to see if she could trust her. Her incessant flirting painted her to be a bit of a harlot. She was used to presumptuousness from working with Jeff and Mutt- always looking down upon them and their perverted lifestyle with a string of hookers attached. This was different, maybe because the attention was towards her? Y/N didn't look like a streetwalker, the formal attire suited her well actually, something Venable would never admit aloud. 

She didn't mind the girl's intentions. She was even flattered. No one had ever shown interest in her, not even in her younger days. She had always been a woman of action, always needed to get something done. Someone would hold her back. Also, her incessant complaining that the men are the scum of the earth tended to draw that sex away, not that she minded, they never appealed to her anyway. 

You were careful but still managed to have a filterless go about communicating. You took what you deemed was yours (mainly other peoples food or drinks) and no one complained. You had power over them, one word from you (if even) and their shot at making it to the sanctuary would be torn away from them. Even with this knowledge, they made an effort to get to know you, possibly for their own benefit. You put more work into knowing the residents than Venable had in all the time she'd been running it. 

"Ms Venable requested your presence," A grey informed you mid-conversation with a few of the men in the outpost. 

"Duty calls boys, good luck on your interviews," you wished them luck before turning attention to the grey. "Keep me company?" The grey nodded their head once knowing whether or not they wanted to; they had orders to obey all in a higher rank eg you. 

You made small talk with the grey, finding out what they did the world ended. They asked back and you responded honestly, telling them about your schooling. "But I guess they're all dead now. Oh well, we all can't be lucky." The conversation took a dark spin, bumming the person who didn't want to be there. "I wish you the best of luck during your interview and I'm sorry about the loss of your husband and kids." As soon as the door is shut, you uttered out, "They aren't going to make the cut."

"Good evening Ms L/N," Venable said.

"It's evening? I only woke up an hour ago." 

"I assumed you didn't want to be a part of our… customs."

"I don't if it means I have to wake up before it's dark- wait, it's always dark here, nevermind." You noticed the bottle of red on her desk and the two glasses. "Ah yes, you got the red." You ran over to her desk and cracked it open, pouring yourself a glass. "That's the shit. Better than the last wine I had. You can call me Y/N by the way. I have a feeling we'll be getting to know each other very well."

"This is strictly business Ms L/N, I would like to get in with it."

"The fact that you have to say it's business suggests to me it's not- at least not entirely," you smirked. "But I'll play your games."

"Do you ever stop-"

"Stop what?"

"If you let me finish then you would have found out-"

"No." Venable was losing her temper. "The answer to your question is no. I don't flirt with everyone I meet, I’m not a whore. Ask anyone here if I have ever flirted with them." You took a sip of your wine. You knew exactly what she was going to ask. People's minds weren't as perplexing as their behaviours. "Did you want me to pour you a glass? I assumed you were capable of doing it yourself but some people like sentiment."

This was all your game. It had to be. Venable wanted no part of you, she was fine on her own. She couldn't even call this an alliance, it was a one time thing to get information from you. If she had to play by your terms then so be it.

"You said you had intel on Mr Langdon."

"Mister, more like master, he's barely 12. Why do you people call young boys master anyway that's kinda fucked up. Is that an old-timey thing?"

"You're not making any sense."

"Nothing about that man does." You chuckled like what you said was an inside joke. " How much do you know about the Cooperative?"

"As much as they needed to tell me to be able to do my job."

"Which is?"

"Excuse me?"

"I know what you do but I want to know in your words."

"I am the keeper of order, looking after humans' last survivors."

"Look after, I take it loosely. Killing doesn't usually fall under that category."

You knew that she’d been killing off the survivors for their disobedience? She didn't gather you to be the observant type after that display on your first day.

"Killing was necessary to keep order-"

"And I'm not complaining, it's remarkable how you manage to use their own fear against the lingering." Lingering? That would imply that they are on their last threads, not supposed to stick around much longer. 

"And what do you see my job being?"

"Oh, I can't tell you that. Self-awareness will ruin everything. It's like that unspoken agreement between a magician and their audience, if you are aware of the magic then it ruins the allusion. Also, I can't tell you directly, it will ruin my reputation-"

"You have a good reputation? Among the Cooperative?"

"God no, the Cooperative isn't important. Why be loyal to the dead?"

“Then to whom?”

“If you stick around long enough, you’ll find out yourself,” You said vaguely. "I'll tell ya one thing about that man. He has said it himself, in other words, he doesn't give a crap about anyone else unless you are faithless on his side, he can't give a rat's ass about any of you."

"On his side or on our knees praising him? I know his kind. Men."

"If you don't side with him, you won't survive the year. You have very few options V." You said. You rose your glass, "Thanks for the wine." You vanished before Venable could stop you.

The days went on. More people were getting interviewed for the selection process. Others, such as Coco, nagged you on how well they did. You would always shrug and tell them the interviews weren't your job, as everyone had been told at the introduction. You already knew no one thus far had made the cut but why rip their hope from right under them. While they still think they have a shot, they are easily manipulative. 

It was an hour before curfew for the residents. You tended to spend the night’s hours in Michael’s office re-reading over the occupants' files, drawing or sitting by the fire. You were catching up with Michael when Ms Venable interrupted.

“Ms Venable,” Langdon said in his drawn-out monotone voice.  

“Mr Langdon. Ms L/N.”

“V.”

“Excellent timing. I was meaning to speak to you.”

“You were?”

“You’ve violated the rules set up by the cooperative, instead implementing your own.”

Langdon went on about Venable's transgressions against proper protocol. Wilhemina insisted that she was given classified instructions which made you laugh. You had heard the rules too many times when they were being made to not have memorized them. Michael may have taken a more backseat approach to all of this but you kept a closer eye on all of this, mainly not trusting the two cokeheads organising this whole shebang and you were right to, the place has been infiltrated. 

Langdon told the story of the woman and child you stumbled across when heading over. A mother with her two children, one child sick, the other, a baby, dead in her arms. She begged for mercy but neither showed mercy. Venable was taken by the story and republished by what you two did or didn’t do. Venable insisted that none of her charges are worthy to move on to the Sanctuary aside from Dinah, whom she admitted she knows little of.

“At this rate, it sounds like we will have the sanctuary all to ourselves,” Langdon said. He stood up from his desk walking over to the woman standing in the centre of the room, in front of the fireplace. “There’s no need for us to be adversaries, Ms Venable.” He stood in her personal space, she was forced to look slightly upwards towards the taller man. You swivel your chair around to watch on. “Take off your dress.”

Both women choked. What did he just say to her?

“I will not.” She was as shocked as you. She laughs uncomfortably, stiffening slightly. 

She glanced from the man before her to you, trying to piece together if this suggestion was in some way your doing. With all the suggestive comments you make in passing towards her, she wouldn’t doubt it. 

You propped yourself on the edge of your seat. “Michael, what are you-” In the month you had been there Wilhemina had never heard you call him by his first name. You always insisted on calling people by nicknames rather than their given names, all the outpost members had at least one, ones you talk to more frequently have multiple. 

“A part of your cooperation includes a physical examination.” Only after he spoke did he acknowledge you. A look telling you to back down was enough for you to piece it together. No one gets special treatment, she had to follow all the same rules as everyone else to see how far she would go and with that, must go through their tests of will.

You eased back in your chair, sitting the most proper you have in years. You turned your attention away, picking up a pen from the man’s desk and playing with its clicker. 

“You can read my file,” she spoke with a quiver in her voice. You winced at the sound of her broken voice. Someone who presented themselves so strongly, shouldn’t be allowed to be seen as weak.

“Your file won’t show me what I need to see. Your shame.” He circled Venable, his hand running from her shoulder to her back. “I want to see the part of you that humiliated you the most.” Venable stopped before it reached her spine. “You won’t get a second chance.”

You leapt up from your chair, snapping the two out of their own world, “I’ll do it- I’ll to the examination.”

“Y/N-”

You made your way over to the two, “I was a nurse back in the day- well nun but let's not go into that.” You move Michael’s hand off her back. 

“I was capable of examining the other-” You knew he didn’t do anything to them. He wasn’t going to do much to her other than look at her back, bring her down a level in the process.

“I’m more qualified to do this and if you are supposed to be doing a physical examination wouldn’t you prefer a medical professional to do it. Unless you have some ulterior motive.”

He eased back knowing that if by bringing up the idea of an ulterior motive if he insisted on doing it, it would appear that way.

“You’re turning weak Y/N,” Michael whispered in your ear as he passed you on the way to his desk. “Just like how I found you.”

You had to stop yourself from snapping back at him. You were weak… human. A part of that still lingers in you, begging for more attention. You shoved it back down but it kept reemerging with these reckless feelings. You thought if you found something to stimulate your old life, maybe it would go away. Your needs were different now but you still needed commitment. Someone to worship the ground you walked on, maybe even do the same back. 

Michael made it to his desk, he told you to hurry along with it. You stared at her face, the close proximity becoming uncomfortable. You apologised before circling her. You would make this as quick as possible for her while still not hurting her. You zipped down her dress revealing her ‘shame’ as Michael called it. You ran your cold hands down the curvature of her spine asking if it hurt. She shook her head, not being able to speak due to the overwhelming emotion she was going through. You zipped her back up before announcing you were done. Her hand slipped back on her shoulder checking if you were telling the truth, her hand meeting yours. Her hand faltered at the contact but reached out for yours holding it briefly. You were the one to pull away, you two weren’t the only ones in the room.

“Did I pass?” She pulled all the strength she could to ask the question. 

Michael looked towards you, annoyed. “Ask Y/n, she seems to think she’s in charge of this now.”

Wilhemina looked towards you. She was confused between the sudden switch of both of yours dynamic.

“You will find out in due time. Like the others.” You don’t look at her as you made your way back to your spot in front of the desk. “I would like to continue the meeting we were having before you interrupted.” You glared daggers at the man before you.

She repulsed you, Venable thought. You refused to look at her after you saw her back. The one person who actively sort her out was turned away by her- She wasn’t to sob but held it in. She had to make it back to her room, her sanctuary.  

“What did you think you were doing?” Michael asked you when the woman left.

“You said I could have one person of my choice in favour of my service to your cause.”

“I shouldn’t even have to do that, you should be faithful to me because-”

“You are not your father, I could give two shits about you and your little plan for the earth.” You snapped. “He could have done it himself, instead of sending his spawn to do it. Don’t even get me started on his procession attempts- I don’t know what his plan was with that.” You stood up leaning all your weight on his desk. He looked up to you with that stupid little smug expression he gave the others. He thought he was above you, typical antichrist behaviour. “I swear he could have come up with a better way to do that or better yet, figured out a way to appear human among. Everyone else can do it if he’s so powerful why can’t he? Don’t look at me like you're above me, you may be tough stuff but you're still human. You can still go to hell. It’s not as nice as you might think if daddy dearest wants out too.”  You went to leave. “You refused me to have my first course as it would screw up your plan, I understood that. But you aren’t stopping this time.”

“The woman is incapable of love. Even if you get her to like you, she won’t stay long. There’s a reason angels and demons don’t date.”

“Like you know shit, your a child and barely de-” 

You were flung against the wall being held by Michael’s power. You felt a pressure around your neck choking you. You gasped for air but nothing was coming in. 

“You might be more human than you thought Y/N.” He cut his magic off, gravity kicked in and you fell to the ground in a crumpled mess. He walked over to your body kneeling down and leading over your body which was backed up against the door. “Know where your place is. Either as my equal or as my enemy.” He stood. “And if you choose enemy, you’ll be dead with those witches you hung out with.” You chuckled knowing better than him. Yeah, dead.

“What must I do- to get rid of the- humanity?” The word humanity felt wrong. 

“Kill what it wants. Kill Venable.”

Link to next chapter

[thebleuroseproject]

Ludus

Name: Ludus

Nicknames: Many, but none that really stuck

Pronouns: They/Them, He/Him

Gender: Genderfluid

Sex: AMAB

Sexual Orientation: Marsic, but money is money.

Age: 23 (Lifespan 90-150 years)

Class/Status: Moderate. He gets by and has a little extra from time to time.

Physical Description: 

Height: 6’5”  | Weight: 10.5 stone

Ludus is wiry purple hellspawn with pupiless green eyes that can leave his face hard to read, as it’s hard to tell where he’s looking specifically. He’s hard to miss in a crowd, being tall, often covered in jewelry and clad in provocative clothing that colour-matches well with his skin. A prominent feature are his horns, small and neatly pointed; they curve around his skull elegantly, ending just a few inches in front of his forehead and sitting just above his browline like a sort of natural crown.They are a deeper purple than his skin, and are often covered in various tidbits of jewelry. His lips are naturally purple, only a little darker than his skin, but Ludus is rarely seen without black lipstick, as anyone with a true sense of style knows that this is peak fashion. 

He looms over most people, with his intimidation showing not through his weight or size (because his ribs almost show through his chest) but through his cutting sarcasm and high perception when it comes to people, which some do fear him for. He isn’t afraid to get into people’s personal space when he wants to - which can leave many feeling unnerved, either by the lack of space, the headiness of the scent he wears or by physical attraction to him.

His physicality could still be seen as intimidating in some ways, as it’s clear there is some muscle behind those legs. Where one would expect those legs to end in feet, as they do on MOST humanoids, they instead end in a very solid pair of hooves inset with gold filigree - which look to be very painful if one was to be kicked by them.

There is no beauty without pain, and while Ludus has no tattoos (they don’t always match with their clothes), he has plenty of piercings from his ears to the tip of his pointed tail which he puts in or takes out to match with his current style. His thick black hair is shaved into a mohawk and grown from there, often braided and intertwined with yet MORE jewelry and dip dyed in a bright colour of their choosing. Like every part of Ludus’ body, it is cared for meticulously with an efficient routine. Only the best to look the best, he doesn’t care where it came from. If he needs to kill a puppy for good skin cream, then to the dog house Ludus shall go. 

Quirks: Despite his best efforts, Ludus cannot stop chewing his nails. He often does it unconsciously and then becomes angry at ruining his own manicure. As a result, his nails are always short which is just as well really -  it’s best they are to avoid any unnecessary injury in his line of work. Hellspawn nails, or rather claws at a certain point, can get VERY sharp. Aside from this, Ludus is a very clean individual - a very important habit as a sex worker.

Ludus ALWAYS buys gold jewelry but keeps (and wears) any he is given regardless of colour. He doesn’t mind silver, but in his opinion it doesn’t pop as much as gold does on purple skin.

He doesn’t have a phobia of anything as far as he knows - but he hasn’t exactly gotten out enough to find or SEE a lot of things to be scared of and is drunk most of the time due to his alcohol dependence. One thing he will flinch at occasionally, is someone raising their hand that he interprets to hit him. It’s a reflex at this point, and he hates it but isn’t sure how he can train it out of himself.

Morality: Neutral -   “You do you and I’ll do me - unless I want something from you, or you’re being a shithead to something I personally care about.”

{Art by Kerry}

Personality 

Strengths/Weaknesses: 

Strengths: Perceptive, Bold, Enthusiastic 

Ludus, despite his lack of a formal education, is a very quick learner - although this mostly applies to things of a sexual nature. They will learn very quickly how you like your blowjobs, or what exactly to say to get the job done as it were. His line of work has led him to be flexible and open minded in more ways than one, a fact they are very proud of. It's also given him an excellent fashion sense, although it does lean heavily into sexual wear. 

When it comes to his work and his skin care routine, they are extremely diligent - and perhaps with the right call to adventure, this could be applied to other areas of their life.

For the most part, Ludus is reliable. If you need something done that fits in with his schedule and that he agrees with, he'll get it done. It can be difficult to negotiate with him, but 95% of the time, they're easygoing. The other 5% is when they’ve lost their temper - or when they’re paid to be the dominant or similar.

This easy going nature really does show in Ludus' enthusiasm and lust for life. They are ALWAYS down to party or throw down, and this energy can be very infectious in others. This doesn't mean that Ludus is loud and bouncing off the walls, but he’s definitely the type to have a small crowd around him at a table. He’ll often go with the flow and the desires of the group - but if uninterested, he will just leave. There’s no chance of them slipping away after all, so Ludus will just state his disinterest and take his leave if it’s something he’s not in the mood for.

Ludus is also bold, he is not scared to do what needs to be done (in his opinion - which can lead to trouble). They have NO shame or concern for their well-being or social grace, he grew up as a despised minority in a brothel after all - but please, don't punch the face.

Despite this mostly fast paced lifestyle, mostly given to him by his work, Ludus CAN be caring and does know when the party needs to stop. If he sees someone in trouble or someone that's clearly overworked and/or tired - he will slip them a mug of water or something to help them along. He often did this for his co-workers at the Lupanar, it has almost become second nature to help those struggling from fatigue or hangover.

Weaknesses: Insecure, Impulsive, Complacent 

Ludus is not very forthcoming with his emotions due to his insecurity, and this shows through his flirting outside of work, which could be taken as platonic or sexual. He is bold, but he doesn’t think he’s worthy of actual love, and protects himself by being somewhat of a shy tsundere when it comes to people they like. They will help someone (eg, carry them to bed if they fall asleep somewhere) but will never admit to actually doing so.

This insecurity has led to a tendency to stagnate and just accept abusive relationships and situations as their lot. This has led to slow processing of trauma, and the unhealthy handling of it via the consumption of alcohol like it was water. Despite being a functional alcoholic, he is still a lightweight due to how little he eats, combined with his slim frame. As a result, Ludus is actually drunk most of the time, but you would find it hard to tell due to his experience in being drunk and due to the fact he is absolutely just as bold when he is sober.

He can be kind, but the side that shows most is the one that is judgmental and critical of others which leads to him running his mouth at the wrong time. You would think he would learn after getting hit at the bar/brothel every time he did so, but he doesn’t. He sees it as part of his ‘charm’, some clients like a challenge after all and he sees it as an integral part of his identity - one that he will never let go.

In spite of having a bold and outlandish personality - Ludus is not a leader. He loves parties, but he is not the type to plan them, purely because he is uninterested in the effort that it takes. He brings his ass and the wine, which is all he and anyone else needs (in his opinion). In non party situations, the lack of desire to lead due to effort remains. He’s no babysitter - he would just prefer to point out what’s wrong and let others fix it - rather than having to fix it himself. No one wants to be that sucker in the group project that ends up doing everything after all.

Skills: 

Self taught makeup artist

Knows first aid.

Dances wonderfully

Decent pickpocket

Can use a knife as a weapon - their fighting almost looks like dancing.

Can tie all sorts of knots.

Has the ability to give almost anyone a makeover.

Good bartender, excellent mixologist, amazing dancer (modern).

Education: Ludus has never had a formal education, having been working from a very young age. Of course, his coworkers felt an obligation to teach him the basics (reading, speaking, basic numeracy) as well as skills required for the role (dancing, basic sewing, self defence)

His bardic powers were found by accident in his youth - and he doesn’t know too much about them or the extent of their abilities - he finds knives do the job in most situations. Ludus is very materialistic and prefers things he can see; he would need guidance to really start to focus on magic.

His intelligence comes from his love of gossip and people watching. They spend a good portion of time gathering information by loose lips either in public or the bedroom, and Ludus is often amazed at what people tell complete strangers.

Likes/Dislikes: In their spare time, Ludus can often be found at a bar. They love the taste of alcohol, especially STRONG sweet and fruity drinks. You’d NEVER catch them with an ale or similar unless they were paid handsomely to drink one. His casual drink is a GOOD red wine though, as they’re a bit of a wine snob and he always makes sure to stock up on bottles where he can.

(Fantasy note: Ludus would most likely have an unending flask of his favourite red wine.)

Since he isn’t a fan of eating unless he needs to, Ludus’ preferred side dish with his wine is a good old bitchy gossip. He loves hearing other people tell him about their lives and bitch about their problems, it fuels him somehow, makes his problems feel smaller - just for a little while.

When he’s not drinking and/or gossiping, Ludus is probably shopping. They love looking at clothes and perfume. He’s a fan of deep heady scents, such as jasmine and he likes people around him to be entranced in one way or another, as it’s easier to get what you want that way.

Ludus has learned to love certain parts of his work, even in his free time - he does enjoy good recreational sexual acts or even as a work around to get past certain people barring his path from certain things. In Ludus’ opinion, if you have a resource like money, make sure to use it.

There are other aspects of his work that he does not tolerate while off the clock, and one of these is rude clients - he is a gossipy bitch and a bit of a ‘mean girl’, so he does expect rudeness to be directed at him BECAUSE of this, but if there is no reason then Ludus will lose his temper very quickly. Being rude to those providing you a service or to someone you’ve just met is abhorrent, an attitude that has mainly developed not from rudeness towards him, but from the protectiveness he feels towards fellow sex workers. Ludus EXPECTS to be slapped and then to charm the slapper anyway, but the same treatment should not be given to workers just doing their job. He has no fear of any kind of bigotry, and will happily challenge anyone who doesn’t think his sexuality is ‘right’.

He’s also not a fan of anyone who doesn’t think or do anything for themselves, as they remind him of himself in the past before he realised the truth of his situation, and now this quality in others repulses him. This attitude has now resulted in Ludus doing things by himself as much as possible to the point where he rarely asks for help - even when it may be needed.

Childhood/Backstory: 

Ludus was born a hellspawn to two highly religious humans, who were immediately appalled by what they had produced, as hellspawn were seen as an extremely bad omen, especially when brought into the world this way. He was immediately sold to the only person that would take him, the local brothel owner known as ‘The Wolf’, who “raised” them and set them to work in the brothel far, far earlier than they should have.  

To keep Ludus, the Wolf kept a close eye on what Ludus learned and knew, forbidding them to ever leave the establishment due to hatred of his species and that he, as his guardian, had ‘saved’ them, rather than it being a rather cruel and illegal transaction. Ludus does not remember anything about their parents, and has no interest in ever knowing them after knowing what they did. He assumed the Wolf knew best, and followed his every order and command. Ludus knew no life outside of the Lupanar and didn’t need to - here they were lavished with many gifts from many appreciative ‘sugar’ clients and praised for being pretty. It was true that he was beaten occasionally, isolated outside of clients, and had to do things he didn’t want to do sometimes - but wasn’t that just life? Here, Ludus had everything he needed.

As a result of this lifestyle, Ludus became very materialistic and became obsessed with the things that earned him praise: his body and skill. After all, the prettier they looked, the less they got hit and abused because after all, people wouldn’t want to hurt such a pretty face. He became dedicated to dance practice and his skincare routine, and obsessed with what he ate for fear of getting fat - so he rarely ate at all - but drinking was often just part of the job. When he was being difficult, the Wolf would often get him drunk or drug him, so that the client could be satisfied. Ludus was assured that this was for ‘his own good’.

The Wolf and his coworkers were the only family he had, and while not all the other workers were complacent in their treatment - they had no choice. Bound by magical contract, blackmail or under similar delusions as Ludus, they were a tightly knit group who took it upon themselves to help and teach each other. This group was the closest Ludus ever had to a school, from them he learned to dance, to have sex, to read, to write, to sing and to defend themself when required with knives or information. The Wolf kept a close eye on all this learning, making sure Ludus believed he could never work or be anywhere else. It wasn’t safe, he was too stupid, he was only good here - so Ludus stayed. 

It took many years for Ludus to build up the desire as well as the courage to rebel, and it was for the reason that there must be better wine out there. At age fifteen, they started to sneak out and rebel a little, frequenting other bars and offering their services and their discretion rather than the Wolf’s. While there he often got drunk and told his stories, to the horror of most who heard them. A child doing such things, and to sound happy about it, was horrific to witness firsthand.

Ludus was taken aback at these reactions as they told him what was done to him was wrong, abusive, illegal even!

No, that couldn’t be true…

With the seed of doubt sown, Ludus started to worry about his situation, but didn’t know how he could possibly leave a job he flourished in as well as his family. All he could think of was to gather information from clients, a task he had already been assigned to do by the Wolf. Sex workers were one of the ears of the city and their clients often had loose lips, or were persuaded to have them with pleasurable means. Ludus now started to hoard some of this information for himself, learning anything he could that could possibly be useful for an escape. Blackmail, ships, people of interest - anything he could find. He still had to tell the Wolf enough to satisfy him, but now Ludus did not tell him everything. Stealing spell books from clients and discovering that through his dancing, he could manipulate magic, he honed his talents in secret.

It took many years for an opportunity to arise and for Ludus to feel comfortable enough to leave. He started to distance himself from the other workers - passing it off as being too busy or too tired from work, but it was really just to make the ‘goodbye ‘ easier. On the week of the harvest festival, at the age of 22, Ludus disguised himself and “persuaded” the head of a large entertainment (the music and dancing kind) to hide him in their trailers so he could smuggle out of the city with a nary a word to anyone. He needed to leave the Lupanar at all costs.

While travelling to the next town - he met a couple people he liked and has so far stuck with them, although he is now developing the thick skin some of his other ex colleagues had and not getting too attached to anyone. Being on the outside and talking about his past is continuing to teach him the depths of the evil done to him, and he is not coping well. His trauma response so far has been to drink even more and in order to regain control over his body, he has taken to hypersexuality to do his old work on HIS terms alone. 

Unfortunately, he doesn’t ask for help and often will push people away with a stubborn “I can do it myself” or “I don’t need help” which has led to a lot of trouble and members of the troupe having to drag him out of it. Ludus is strong though, and he staggers (metaphorically) along as best he can, determined to overcome his past.

Profession: Sex Worker | Dancer | Bard

Relationships: 

The Lupanar

Ivellios | ‘The Wolf’ | Male High Elf | Age ??? | Max Lifespan: Around 750 years, presumably.

Ivellios ‘The Wolf’ - A High Elf Wizard that was disgraced from his settlement and family due to his dabblings in the slave trade. He decided to continue this work regardless, branching out into the sex industry. Starting small, he bought others and made them work for little profit until he could purchase a large building in a major city, naming it the Lupanar and really spreading his wings as a pimp that specialised in magical contracts. Ludus was sold to him after he had owned this building for twenty years, having quickly made a name for himself through this brothel. He raised Ludus for his own means with a combination of emotional, mental and physical abuse, forbidding his little toy from leaving the establishment and closely monitoring what Ludus consumed from outside those walls, shaping them into the perfect sex worker. He never thought Ludus would need a contract to stay but underestimated his quarry massively.

Kuqi | Stripper Name: Cookie | Female Goblin | Age 18 | Max Lifespan: Around 60 years

“Come and get your milk and kuqi’s!”

Kuqi ran away from her clan at age 5 (middle aged for an average goblin) before she had to mate with a variety of goblins she really didn’t like. Goblins usually live and die quickly, and there were not many of her clan left so as one of the remaining females, Kuqi was expected to be a brood queen to get the clan back to full strength. Unfortunately for the clan, Kuqi wanted something better, and so she ran away, eventually arriving at the city the Lupanar was based at. Ivellious was amused by her plight and so took her on as a worker at her request - the conditions of her contract being that as long as she continues to work, she gets bed, board and birth control and as a bonus - a longer lifespan than the average goblin.

Ludus was ten when she arrived, and the two have an odd relationship due to the drastically different age rates of their species, and arguably their heights as well. The relationship fluctuated from little sister to maternal figure for Ludus, and back in their youth they got into all sorts of trouble, both having a strong streak of mischief in them. He misses her terribly some days, but knows she wouldn’t leave the Lupanar as she is VERY grateful to Ivellios and LOVES her work.

Mival | Stripper Name: Angel | Male Aasimar | Age: 60 | Max Lifespan: Around 160 years

Born into a superstitious and  mostly human community, Mival was revered strongly as a blessing and a saviour for their small village. He was commanded to do all sorts of petty tasks - ones he found hard to refuse with his polite and mild mannered self. As he grew older, the pressure grew on him - and eventually, he cracked. At age 17, he ran away to the city and he found himself with no shelter, no job, no long term means of survival. But he was very pretty, and a brothel was looking for workers. With no long term goals in mind and wishing to hide from his village - Mival made a pact with Ivellious. In exchange for his service, Merval would be hidden from the village and the people there. Of course, he can leave if he wishes, but his old village isn’t far from the city and he’s not hard to miss with his stark white hair that almost glows in the light. Not knowing what else he could do, Mival stayed.

As one of the first workers hired for the Lupanar, he was age 37 by the time a baby Ludus arrived in Ivellios’ arms. Horrified at Ludus’ treatment, but bound by contract to stay, he did the best he could to be a proper father figure to Ludus. Despite being asked to by a variety of clients, he never touched Ludus sexually and even was known to lose his rarely seen temper when pestered about it. He’s a gentle man, living up to his alias and race and there is not a day where Ludus doesn’t feel like he’s disappointed him during his struggle. A little of Ludus’ strength comes from the gentle faith that this man placed upon him.

Haze | Stripper Name: Haze | Agender Changeling | Age: 55 | Max Lifespan: Around 100 years

Haze is a mysterious figure whose past is unknown, but arrived at the Lupanar at age 32, covered in blood and looking for work… or as they put it..’something better to do’. Ivellios doesn’t like hiring anyone without a contract, but made an exception for a Changeling who he knew would make him a LOT of money in this business and that he could always get dirt on them for a contract later. To this day he hasn’t succeeded in getting Haze to sign anything, and it’s driving him to new levels of repressed rage.

Ludus was 16 when Haze arrived, but Haze had a tendency to keep their distance from everyone - despite being extremely charming while they worked. Haze’s ability is where Ludus got the idea to disguise himself to leave and he often finds himself wondering who Haze is and where they came from.

The Moondroplet Entertainment Company

The M.E.C is full of hundreds of entertainers, but Ludus travelled in the same trailer as these two and so often pairs with them as their dancer to make their performances more visually interesting. Each split off troupe has a quota to make each day and with Ludus’ “extra services”, his group surpasses that easily, and the three of them get on well enough although Henk and Ash have known each other for about four years.

Henk | Flute Player | Male Orc | Age: 28 | Max Lifespan: Around 75 years

Henk was previously a nomadic tribal orc, but was ostracized from his tribe due to a gentler nature than the rest of his species. One day, while out scouting for food he saw the line of trailers and caravans and saw an opportunity to leave his tribe for good. It took some time to convince them he came in peace, but eventually after a few days of camping nearby they allowed him to camp with the rest of the troupe even later, join them. He learned to play the flute by shaving his tusks - and now regularly makes a habit of doing so or removing them for better airflow. When people meet him, they are surprised by his gentle nature and his excellent flute playing.

Ashley/Ash | Lyre Player | Female Fire Genasi | Age: 26 | Max Lifespan: Around 120 years 

You can’t miss Ash, she’s loud, proud and will bowl you over with her sound. The lyre player of the three, her playing is filled with fast, energetic melodies that Henk struggles to keep up with and Ludus relishes dancing to. Ludus and Ash bounce off each other very well, their banter often inducing a laugh out of their audiences on the streets and she’s even known to stoke a rare smile from Henk sometimes.

Ash rarely talks about her childhood, preferring to focus on the present with a crass and blunt attitude - but she does talk about her supportive, ex adventuring mother who told her to chase her dreams of being a musician. She regularly sends money back home to support her mother in her old age but curiously, does not speak of her father - who is rumoured to be a Fire Efreeti.

Location: ????

Previous: ‘The Lupanar’ - a large and well known brothel, owned by an elf known as ‘The Wolf, who has been in the business for many years.

Religious Beliefs: DND: Would most likely be a fan of a Dionysian type god, such as The Moonweaver. If there are no tangible gods like there are in DND, he would not give a toss. Money and himself are their gods then.

Goals: 

1) To start living their life for them.

2) Finding other things to enjoy.

3) Learn to interact and bond with people outside of a sex work setting.

Other | Trivia

CANON VOICE: Toddrick Hall. Singing and Speaking. (was Alaska Thunderfuck)

Character influences: Mollymauk Tealeaf, Angel Dust, Irene Adler

Physical Afflictions:  N/A 

Mental Illnesses: Body dysmorphia, PTSD

COMPLETE LIST OF PIERCINGS: 

Ears, both sides: Earlobe x4, Helix x4, Industrial, Tragus

Nose: Nose piercing, stud on each side. High Nostril, stud on each side, Septum.

Face: Eyebrow Piercing, one on both sides. (he wears the left the most.)

Lips: Snakebites, Medusa

Tongue: NONE - he has so many things in his mouth going in and out it’s dangerous.

Genital: Frenum ladder.

Tail: Eight, four on each side. Often studs, sometimes rings.

Other: Nipple (both), Hip, Collarbone, Naval.

He’s an aspect of me: Ludus is a fragment of me, specifically the part of my sexuality I can’t express because I’m not brave or attractive enough - so I made a character that was. He also got my eating issues from my youth, I didn’t eat sometimes because I didn’t want my father and brother to mock my cooking or what I was eating or because I just simply didn’t have the energy. I personally still have body issues but I’ve largely given up because I don’t want to exercise in a gym or people to look at me. Ludus is essentially made partially of a person I wish I could have been, mixed with my own repression. They’re their own person though, but they’re very close to my heart.

Ludus dances because I find good dance beautiful, it’s one of my favourite youtube rabbit holes I go down. He was made almost exactly a year and two months after a traumatic event, and I’m not sure if he’s a response to that yet. I think he’s mainly a repression response.

He’s attracted to power and people puppet masters but he knows they’re bad for him. Actual kindness is what he wants, to be someone's pet yet valued for who he is as an individual.

Intimidates others for power - Think IRENE ADLER

But they’re still mostly a sub and have to know they want something first, which is rare because he still doesn’t know what he wants.

He developed blackmail as a way to keep himself safe in the bar because no one else was gonna do it for him and it’s not like he could work anywhere else (well, that’s he was trained to believe).

Rarely shouts.

Can sing.

Urban Fantasy Setting Notes: His phone is black but usually has a bright pink bedazzled phone case with a pop socket. He adores it. Plays guitar in private (prefers acoustic - gentle vibes). Probably interested in learning piano. Has an OnlyFans and NSFW twitter under LEWDICROUS. 

Fantasy Setting Notes: Dance bard. Fond of using daggers. Rogue /bard? 

The Moondroplet Entertainment Company is indeed named as a nod to The Fletching and Moondrop Traveling Carnival of Curiosities.

The lipstick comment “but Ludus is rarely seen without black lipstick, as anyone with a true sense of style knows that this is peak fashion” is absolutely a Homestuck, specifically a Kanaya reference, well, as close as I could get.

He was named on 27/07/2019 which is his sort of birthday, and he was tangled in with the “essence” of Lux for the longest time - I thought they were the same person. The original character idea was a half gnome/half tiefling bard with purple skin, and gold teeth. They were an absolute gremlin, but I couldn’t hone in on them because there was just nothing there - and then over a year or so Lux and Ludus developed. Arguably him and Lux are twins (not story wise tho), which is an idea I quite like.

[izzy-b-hands]

Two To Tangle

This came from me thinking about the stupidest and/or silliest things the guys might have dared each other to do while drunk/partying over the years, and now here we are lol. Very silly, but hopefully fun for y’all to read! 

My love to all who read/like/reblog!

“What have you done?” 

“In all fairness to us, it is actually quite impressive,” Roger replied. “I certainly didn’t think it could be done, but then I didn’t trust my skill with this...” 

Freddie sighed, and rolled out of bed. “That didn’t answer my question, Roger.” 

“It was an answer,” Roger protested. “Can you just come over and help? We’re at Brian’s, a bit shit-faced-” 

“I’m very shit-faced!” came Brian’s voice, echoing down the line. “Don’t lie to him!” 

“I’m not lying to him!” Roger argued. “Why are you bragging about that anyway?” 

“This hurts!” John’s voice now, sounding equally drunk, but much more irritated. 

“Who’s hurt?” Freddie tried again. 

In the meantime, Jim had woken, a look on his face asking quite clearly ‘what in the fuck is happening?’

Freddie could only shrug as there was the sound of a tussle, then a crash, and then the sound of the phone being dropped.

“They’re probably alright though, you think?” Jim asked as Freddie dressed, the phone call abandoned after no one on the other end had picked up their phone again. 

“I have no idea,” Freddie admitted. “Hopefully? They’re all alive, and drunk, if nothing else.” 

“You’ll call if you need help?” 

“What would you plan on doing?

“Depends on what you find when you get there,” Jim shrugged. “How bad it is. If we need to call any families, inform them of causalities-” 

Freddie laughed. “I don’t think it’ll be that terrible.” 

“Do you put it past them?” Jim asked, but he smiled, the joke evident in his voice. 

“I’ll call if I need back-up,” Freddie said, and gave him a kiss. “And besides, Phoebe is driving me over, he can be part of the cavalry as well.” 

“Lord help us if we need more than the three of us,” Jim said. 

---

The door to Brian’s home was unlocked, as if he was a medic coming to attend an emergency. 

And honestly, he wasn’t sure if he shouldn’t be treating it like that. 

But instead of injury or blood, he found them in the sitting room. 

“What in the fuck have you done?” 

“So, it started with a bet that I couldn’t braid hair, because Rory will surely need my help with that someday,” Roger said. “Her hair’ll be long enough for it before you know it. Anyway-” 

“I said prove it,” Brian interrupted. “And I do regret that now, I’d like that noted.” 

“...noted,” Freddie sighed. “I think I can guess the rest of this.” 

“No, let us tell it!” Roger said. “Then I said ‘well, let me braid your hair then, I’ll prove it.’ And John pipes up-” 

“Can it also be noted that I regret what I said?” John asked, trying to sip at the beer bottle in his hand. “Because I do very much so.” 

“Are we in fucking court?” Freddie sighed, exasperated. “Sure, yes, duly noted. I’ll dictate this all to Jim later at home and have him send you all a copy of the report.” 

“I’d rather not have any reminder of this, thanks,” Brian said. “But yes, John said to make it a challenge, and since my hair is curls and he’s got his perm-” 

“You decided to have him braid your hair into John’s,” Freddie finished, staring at the two of them, their necks looking painfully cricked due to the set of not terrible, but not great, braids done to keep them attached by the hair. “I...I might actually be almost speechless. Well done.” 

“Just help, please,” John begged. “This hurts so fucking bad, I swear to God, how is it trouble every time we drink together. How does this keep happening?” 

“I mean, I have some ideas,” Freddie replied. 

“If you had been here, this probably wouldn’t have happened,” Brian fussed. 

“Now now,” Freddie scolded. “I don’t get on any of you for wanting to be with your families, do I? Turning down the occasional invite to spend time because you want to be around a spouse and the kids?” 

“No,” Brian mumbled. “Sorry.” 

“Don’t be sorry, it’s alright,” Freddie sighed. “This, however...I don’t want to say we need scissors-” 

“No!” Brian and John spoke as one, and he jumped. 

“Fucking hell, no scissors then. At least for right now, because...god I do love you all, but why? Why this? The two worst hair textures in the band to try this little experiment on...” 

“Scissors would make it easier,” Roger muttered as Freddie started to tackle the mess, and he winced as Freddie slapped at his leg. 

“You’re the one who did this! You don’t get to make the scissors decision!” Freddie spat. “Oh, don’t look at me like that. I’m sorry, but really, Roger.” 

But Roger was pouting, and far too drunk to be responding like the adult he normally was, and he sunk down in his chair before putting his sunglasses back on. 

“Okay,” Freddie said, to hide his growing panic. Any attempt to work on the braids seemed to make it worse, but he couldn’t be sure. “We’re calling in an expert.” 

“No one else can know about this,” John said darkly. “Freddie-” 

“I’m just calling Jim!” Freddie said. “Goodness, you act like we’d have to kill whoever I called so they could never tell anyone about this.” 

“Well, I didn’t know it was Jim you were going to call,” John replied. 

“Are you suggesting we would have killed anyone else I might have called?” Freddie asked incredulously. 

“We aren’t in that situation, so I don’t think we need to explore it,” John answered. 

“I...that’s probably the beer talking, but we’re still discussing this later,” Freddie said, shaking his head as he went to the phone. 

“Having a good time?” Jim sounded half-asleep, but happy. For nearly three in the morning, it was better than most people would sound. 

“No, we need you.” 

“Oh my god, what have they done? Is anyone hurt?” 

“No, but I am tempted to give them all a smack for this,” Freddie replied. “We need someone who deals with hair, and if there’s anyone I would call for that, it’s you. How often do you deal with braids?” 

“Not often at all, if I’m honest,” Jim said. “But I can come over and do my best. And I am awfully curious now to see this...” 

“I’ll send Phoebe over for you.” 

---

Phoebe, for his part, was having quite the giggle over it all, but he went and got Jim promptly. 

“I’ll leave you two to it,” he said as he led Jim into the house. “There’s enough beer here for us as well, and I imagine this will take some time, so I’ll be fine to drive by the time we leave.” 

Freddie watched Jim successfully bite back a laugh as he looked to Brian and John, the only sign of it a twitch of his lips. 

“What have you boys done to yourselves?” 

“Roger did it to us, actually,” Brian replied. 

“You egged me on!” 

“I-” Brian paused. “Okay, yeah, I did! And?!” 

“You’re as guilty as I am then!” Roger shouted. 

“Okay,” Jim said softly. “You can argue guilty and not guilty later-”

“Think we’re all guilty,” John interrupted. 

“That seems the accurate take,” Jim agreed. “But that all can wait. Let’s get this fixed first.” 

The coffee table was moved, and a chair sat so Jim could sit in between and in front of them, fingers delicately working at the braids. 

“We could get you a beer,” Brian offered quietly. 

“You could? Jim asked with a smile. “How so?”  

Brian blushed. “Well. I could have Freddie get you one, I suppose.” 

“Thank you, but I’ll need to keep my head about me for this, though I can see how you might want to drink to forget this night,” Jim said. “You’re both going to need to be gentle on your hair after this, I hope you know. For a few nights, at least.” 

“Yes sir,” Brian mumbled. John only grimaced at a quick tug of his hair. 

“There’s one undone,” Jim chirped. “Not my usual fare, but this isn’t as bad as I was expecting. And not terribly done either, may I say, Roger.” 

“I don’t think Rory will let me even look at her hair if she finds this out,” Roger said miserably, finally casting his sunglasses aside again to the table. He looked tired, and much more sober. 

“Lucky you are that she’s still a baby then,” Freddie said. “And she doesn’t need to find this out unless anyone should tell her. Which none of us will.” 

“I might,” John attempted to shrug. 

Roger glared at him for a moment, then broke into a laugh. “Fine. You can be the one to tell her, and braid her hair when she bans me from it.” 

“I can work with that,” John said. “Not a terrible exchange.” 

“I’d rather you not tell her,” Brian said. “Would really rather that no one knows about this, in fact.” 

“Right, right,” Freddie said, trying to grab the Polaroid camera Phoebe had also retrieved from the house as surreptitiously as possible. The picture he snapped was quick, but Jim smiled beautifully for it. Brian flipping him off and John rolling his eyes were a wonderful bonus. 

“Freddie,” Brian sighed. “Why?” 

“Memories,” he replied. “Someday we’ll see this picture and laugh at it. Or I will, at least. Think I’ll frame it, actually.” 

Brian seemed ready to reply, but yelped instead.

“Sorry, sorry,” Jim soothed. “That’s another one done though, if it helps.” 

“That does, actually,” Brian said. “Think I can almost move my neck.” 

“Give me another ten minutes, and I think I’ll have you freed,” Jim said, his fingers moving swiftly and deftly now. 

“Are you really making eyes at him now of all times?” Roger asked Freddie with a grin. 

“I like watching my man at work, so sue me,” Freddie said. “He’s doing something wonderfully kind, and he looks good doing it, how can I not admire that?” 

Jim blushed, but didn’t cease his work. 

“What would we do without you two?” Roger asked, leaning back in his chair. 

“Be touring like this, I suppose,” John replied. “Can you imagine?” 

“Forget touring,” Brian said. “What about every day?” 

John was lost in thought for a moment. “Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday morning at my house, Wednesday afternoon, Thursday, and Friday at yours, then Saturday and Sunday we take a day to go bother Roger and Freddie at their homes.” 

“Have you been plotting that out this whole time?” Brian scoffed, then shrugged. “Though, it isn’t a terrible schedule.” 

“That’s what I thought,” John said. “Fair amount of time with everyone.” 

“Luckily, there’ll be no need for it,” Jim said. “Done! Go ahead and let yourselves move, before you end up stuck that way.” 

There was an unsettlingly loud crack from both of their necks as they straightened up and moved their heads and shoulders to loosen back up. 

“We owe you,” Brian said with a happy sigh. “If ever you need a favor-” 

“I’ll give you both a call,” Jim interrupted with a laugh. “Now, I don’t know about the rest of you, but I’m ready for bed. “It’s nearly...” 

He frowned. “Or not. It’s nearly five-thirty. I’ve got work by six-thirty today.” 

They all winced at that. 

“Perhaps a day of just you and Freddie napping, with no calls from us?” Brian offered.

“And a dinner at some later date,” John added.

“With less to drink,” Roger said. “Who am I kidding, we’ll still have a good time and probably over-indulge. But no hair braiding.” 

“If that’s a promise, then I can agree to all of that,” Jim said. “We’d best head home. Will you all be alright now?” 

“Nothing wounded now but my pride,” Brian replied. “Thank you, again.” 

---

At home in Garden Lodge, the picture from that night would find a home on a mantel, in a small silver frame. 

It remained in that silver frame, later, taken by Jim from Garden Lodge. 

And many years after, on an end table in Roger’s home, the silver frame still gleamed, a small note in Jim’s handwriting tucked into it: He would want you to have this, and I do as well. Take care. 

[cannotgiveafuck]

Shazam Week Prompt 2

I'm a day late and expect to do again, but I'm not quitting!

Heres prompt 2: Holidays

-

Halloween had always been one of Billy's favorite holidays. 

Before he was Captain Marvel, he would spend the day at the Fawcett Park Market, getting his face painted in preparation for trick-or-treating. The amount of candy he snagged would last him weeks, even far into December if he controlled himself.

Before he managed to permanently escape from his Uncle Ben, Billy enjoyed Halloween for the chance it gave him to be far away from the man. At least for the night. When he returned, he'd always have to hide a majority of his stash in his room, lest his uncle throw his entire loot into the garbage. 

Ever since becoming the Champion of Magic, however, Billy found no time for Halloween shenanigans anymore. He had a responsibility to uphold, civilians to watch over, monitor duty to attend. 

Billy Batson wasn't a kid anymore. 

"What do you mean, you're not going out? You're thirteen years old! Go throw eggs and TP at some old tosser's house, get sick from too much candy, and all of that!"

Billy didn't know where to begin, everything about what he'd said was just...wrong. "John, I'm twelve. And I'm on patrol tonight. Do you know how bad it would be if the League found out I… egged someone's house? I'd be toast!"

But the thought of throwing rotten eggs at his Uncle Ebenezer's house brought on a joy he was ashamed to acknowledge. 

On the other side of the mirror, Constantine took a long, contemplative drag of his cigarette. "Do you realize how mad what you just said was? You're twelve and you've got patrol for what? Fawcett? The entire bloody world?"

The familiar heat of indignation, of embarrassment, flared at his cheeks. "So what?"

When he sighed, smoke obscured part of his features, but his blue eyes - clear and crisp and so much deeper than others gave credit for - pinned Billy to his spot. It was an accusing stare. A look that challenged Billy, doubted him, was filled with more condescension than John's words could imitate. It was a look plenty of adults gave plenty of kids when they did something particularly exhausting. 

Billy hated that look.

He also knew that John hated the League, that Billy was even part of the League. Against all opinions of him, John was actually quite soft for children, became rather protective and reckless for them. Billy knew John thought of him as a child, heck, the magician looked out for him well enough, and Billy appreciated it, really he did. But…

"Know much about the spirit world and Hallow's Eve?" John asked, thankfully diverting the subject. At Billy's head shake, he continued. "The veil between alive, dead, and undead becomes thin, nearly open. All the planes of existence sync up. Get the most supernatural activity around that time. And I know the lot of em throw one killer of a ball."

Immediately, Billy had perked up, always interested in learning more about the magical community. But at the mention of a party filled with paranormal creatures?

Billy knew the glee on his face was evident as John chuckled.

"Unless, of course," he added, tone teasing, "you're too busy patrolling."

Ah, crap.

[[MORE]]

-x-

"Are you sure this will work?" Billy asked as he looked at John's handiwork. It was impressive and amazing, and Billy never got tired of seeing magic in action.

"C'mon now, lad, trust me here," he said with a face that did not at all look like John Constantine.

"It's not that I don't trust you, exactly…" 

They were currently in New York City, strolling down an alleyway that John was very certain lead into their destination. As they got ready earlier in the day, he had explained that the ball was a public affair, a yearly celebration that warranted total truce once entered. No murderous or underhanded conflict permitted on the property. The event was hosted by an affluent influence within the magical or supernatural community, though it took the effort of some key abilities to pull it off, to ensure the location was safe and secure. 

However, just because there was no guest list didn't mean anyone could waltz on in. Unless they were a plus one, a regular human or extraterrestrial could not enter the compound. Afterall, there was still so much that neither knew or understood about the world, about Earth and her inhabitants and patrons from all walks of existence. Only those immersed in the community and its secrets could be trusted to attend. 

Though, Billy was unsure how solid a definition of trust that they used. 

And then there were certain individuals or groups on a blacklist. No matter if they had attended before or were invited by someone going - once someone was banned, it took a great deal of influence to be welcomed back.

That is, unless someone was clever and crafty enough at magical tricks to sneak in.

Someone like the infamous and definitely blacklisted John Constantine.

"Think of it like any other Halloween party, yeah? Some folks go as themselves and that's fine, but boring, honestly, and others wear costumes. Nobody's gonna rip off someone's mask, right?" John smiled with far too many sharp teeth, with a face that was not his own. "That's how glamour is around these ilk."

It made sense, sure. But still, Billy couldn't help but feel...weird. Don't get him wrong, it was exciting getting to join in on this adventure, but looking into the mirror and instead of seeing himself, or even Captain Marvel, he saw a strange creature. It was creepy. 

Once John applied the glamour dust, Billy used his own magic to shape what he wanted to appear as - an aesthetic look inspired by his own Feyr. 

With Tawny's help, Billy became a tiger themed witch boy. Pointed ears and a gliding tail, sharp fangs and claws, wild hair and catlike eyes, a magically fitted black suit with striped markings that followed onto his skin, and eerie blood splatter across his hands and face - Billy so wanted to wear this for other Halloween parties.

(He doesn't actually believe he'd ever get the chance, but well, one could dream.)

Though, he admitted, he was sort of jealous of John's glamour. A full transformation into a stylishly decorated demon - large horns, full black eyes, fancy clothing and a grand colorful coat. He looked really, really cool.

"I could've gone as Marvel, you know. Being an adult seems easier for this," Billy commented. It would have also been safer. 

Great adventure aside, Billy wasn't stupid enough to ignore the dangers he was getting into. He may be magical inclined, but Marvel was the Champion of Magic. If things went south, he would prefer to have the Gods on his side. And great costume aside, something about attending a party as a kid, albeit a never aging one, seemed like it was asking for trouble. What if the glamour wasn't enough? What if his magic wasn't enough? What if someone saw right through them and realized Billy really was just a kid? If he got blacklisted from the coolest supernatural party of the year before he even turned eighteen, he would never live it down.

"You telling me that you want the entire place in chaos? That's what the Champion of the Gods would do. Half the party would swarm you for autographs and most likely try to pull you into rooms you do not want to go, and the other half would fall over themselves trying to leave the damn place. Some may even risk breaking the truce to get a piece of you."

"I thought that's what the glamour was for."

"A pretty costume can't hide the fact that he's the Champion of goddamn Magic. His energy alone would blind the lot like a beacon of divine fucking light." John stopped them before they reached a dead end wall practically oozing magical illusion. They kept a good enough distance, though he still lowered his voice. "I know you run with the big superhero league, but his reputation goes farther than you've been flying around in his cape. Near everyone knows about the Ancient Champions and their patron Gods, and half of those know about the Wizard and his lofty seat at the center of all Earthly magic. He's a bloody legend down here, so no shouting for your giant fuckall lightning, alright? You don't need to leave here with a massive target on your forehead."

Well, then. This was news to him.

"It'd be nice if you told me this before, you know, instead of when we are literally walking into the lions den!" Knowing that there could be powerfully magical beings who would want to hurt him… that seemed like important information.

"That's why I told you to stay as a kid, kid," John flicked at his forehead, infuriating and condescending all at once. Which wasn't an uncommon thing, unfortunately.

The response was immediate, Tawny's low rumble, warning John Constantine away.

"Yeah, yeah. I get it," he lead them forward and to Billy is felt like walking through a curtain to see what was covered on the other side. "Now, stay within eyesight of me, and don't accept drinks you haven't seen the bartender make. And even then, keep to what you know," John said. 

Billy knew what to do, thank you very much. He's had talks with his neighbor Candy, and he's heard older teens whisper at foster homes, and him and Freddy have watched teenage party movies. He knows what to do and unlike John, he doesn't go pissing off every magical being he comes across.

He'll be fine!

-x-

He was not fine.

Billy was very much not fine at all.

He felt sick and nauseous and all he wanted to do was throw up, but he couldn't and that made it worse. Thanks to John's quick thinking, he managed to get them out before Billy's glamour wore off. Though, with how fast John was walking, he was practically dragging Billy along, making the sidewalk blur and the street lights flare painfully. 

"That's what you get for accepting a drink from the eternal witch boy," John said, voice teasing. It was salt in Billy's wounds along with everything else right now.

Words seemed to escape him for the moment, so he gagged and spat on the ground at John's feet to let him know how he felt about that.

"Didn't take you for a delinquent," John continued. He sounded more amused and Billy hated it. "Not that I'm judging, mind you. I had my first taste of alcohol when I was ten."

"Didn't know," Billy muffled out. He'd tried beer before, him and Freddy had snuck out with a can each one time. They'd stolen it from one of the foster dad as he lay passed out on the couch. It was the most disgusting thing Billy had ever tasted.

"Yeah, can't blame you there. Mead tastes deceptively sweet. Either way, it was from Klarion and that's where you went wrong."

Okay, he really did not need a lecture right now. It was Halloween and he nearly blew their cover and he may have become an ally to Klarion and they almost got found out by Zatanna and all Billy wanted to do was sleep forever.

Still incapable of words, because talking required thinking and that was not going to happen - Billy groaned.

"No, no sleep yet. Gonna need some water and greasy food first, or you'll be feeling even more like shit come morning. Good thing I know a place and they won't ask questions." 

At the mere thought of food, Billy felt his stomach turn and finally threw up. Surprisingly, it made him feel better. 

"Hmm. Good thing you don't have monitor duty tomorrow, you're sleeping in. And no patrol, either. Consider it an extended holiday."

Halloween had never been this eventful before, at least at a personal level, but it all honesty, Billy didn't feel an ounce of regret. This was probably his favorite year yet.

Vomiting in the middle of the street excluded.

[zcvczx]

𝐦𝐞𝐞𝐭  𝐳𝐨.

*/ EMILY RATAJKOWSKI , 23 , CIS FEMALE , SHE/HER . i just watched dean matthews pull zoyenka voznesensky into his office. maybe it has something to do with them being a member of phi alpha phi. yeah, i spoke to zo a few times. they’re a senior studying business administration. apparently they’re from new york city, new york. maybe that’s why they’re so vexing and audacious, i don’t know, man. all i know is they’re always listening to needed me by rihanna. / jocey , 23, est, she/her .

ayyyye ya girl is back with her second bby, zo. apologizing in advance for the terror that is zoyenka. she is truly the worst™. hit that like button & i’ll slide into dem dms real quick. 

name : zoyenka voznesensky ( will not acknowledge you if you can’t pronounce her name. true story. ) nickname : zo age : twenty-three sexuality : pansexual hometown : new york city, new york chapter : phi alpha phi major : business administration  extracurriculars : cheerleading ( base ), dance team, mock trial

━  the voznesensky’s didn’t always have a net worth of millions. with humble beginnings in saint petersburg, russia, the family moved to america a couple generations ago to expand their distillery business. it was only then did the family-run business grow by producing, shipping and selling their premium vodka brand and maybe some other less than legal products too. eventually they got into the nightlife entertainment business as well, through acquiring and running several bars, clubs and lounges on the east coast.

━  as the second and youngest child born to dimitri and natalia, it was never in the books for zoyenka to take over the family business. a traditional man, her father had always groomed her older brother, alek, to be his successor. her father’s bias always left her feeling bitter and resentful, and only drove her ambitions and determination to prove him wrong. the more he kept her at arm’s length, the more driven she was to find an in.

━  unfortunately, her mother, a socialite/philanthropist herself, also had different plans for her - something along the lines of debutante and her daughter following in her footsteps. from being forced into piano lessons, ballet and etiquette classes, zo absolutely despised the person her family wanted to mold her into. the only things she didn’t mind as much were the gymnastics and language lessons ( russian, french, spanish & italian ). both stubborn in wanting to get their way, their differences pulled their mother-daughter relationship further and further apart.

━  even her mom’s passing when she was 12 did little to change zo’s opinion in the matter. she didn’t care about the woman’s death, nor did it affect her whatsoever, and she will gladly tell anyone that. but the fact that she accepted her offer at NEU and pledged phi alpha, her mom’s sorority, may hint at something different. despite now being a part of greek life, she still doesn’t buy into any of the sisterhood crap and thinks it’s all just a load of BS. but of course, that didn’t stop her from wanting to be president, if only for the power.

━  a hustler with an alpha bitch mentality, she’s always outsmarting people and outsmarting the system to get things to work in her favour. and when that didn’t work, no one could ever say no to a big fat wad of cash. because zoyenka voznesensky never loses. she doesn’t just play the game, she owns it, makes the rules and wins. every. damn. time. does she think she’s better than everyone? without a doubt.

━  zo swears by the belief that playing by the rules was for suckers and if you weren’t the best, then you were nothing at all. and sometimes being the best required playing dirty. if she has to ruin someone else’s life to get her way, then she will gladly pour a jug of gasoline, light a match and enjoy watching it go up in flames. hell, sometimes she’ll do that just purely for her own enjoyment.

━  with that mentality, it’s no surprise that zo was on track to becoming phi alpha’s president. but it was also her ambition that screwed herself over in the end. last year, an all too eager zo wanted a quick loophole to move from vice president to president because she just didn’t want to wait another year. so, she framed the then-president for stealing funds from the sorority, but was consequently busted, removed as VP and put on probation.

━  after that debacle, zo decided to do an exchange program in france for a semester, as a way to escape the aftermath. now she’s back with her head held high, still one month on probation, and ready to move on. but then again, why take the high road when the low road is so much more chaotic and fun? her presidency was already taken from her, so what else was there to lose?

WANTED CONNECTIONS.

BEST FRIEND  ━  someone who can put up with zo’s awfulness, or maybe they’re just as awful as she is. this is probably one of the few people she’s actually relatively soft for ( not that she’d ever admit it ) and will always have their back. possibly even one of the few people she’ll ever let her guard down for. gimme some soft bestie feels for this cold bitch.  taken by minka kellar ( little ), kieran rhodes, alana brooks SISTERS, I GUESS  ━  zo really does not give af about all this sisterhood crap and she just doesn’t buy into any of it. but there’s bound to be a couple of phi alpha girls who have grown on her over time. perhaps someone she pledged with? she’d never admit it, but she would give a bitch the smackdown if they tried to mess with them.  taken by hannah maddison MORAL CONSCIENCE  ━  does zo even have a moral compass? your guess is as good as mine. this is someone she is more likely to listen to and could try to sway her from doing, y’know, ~*just zo things*~. kind of the angel on her shoulder? often tries to get her to be nicer and overall be a decent human being.  taken by garrett shepherd BAD INFLUENCE  ━  i’m sure even satan has a little devil on his shoulder, so zo needs one too. though more likely than not, zo’s that little devil. basically they like to stir up all kinds of trouble together, either with her egging the other person on or they both fuel each other’s bad habits.  taken by lennon winter, kamelya tansel EXES  ━  either she dumped him/her, or she was dumped ( in which case, rip my friend ). maybe there are some lingering feelings. maybe she’s still hella soft for them. could be interesting if they’re very different from zo and that’s why it didn’t work out despite the chemistry or whatever. and/or the relationship ended when she abruptly left for her exchange program. ENEMIES  ━  ho’boy. homegirl can piss off a lot of people just for shits and giggles, nor does she care to be likeable and personable, so i’m sure she’s got a hella long list of enemies/people she rubs the wrong way. also people she’s sabotaged, fucked over and manipulated to get her way? plz.  taken by leticia viterra CHILDHOOD FRIENDS  ━  pretty self-explanatory. they’ve known each other since they were kids and their parents are likely friends. maybe their moms were in phi alpha together. they can be close, or not get along at all, or maybe even an ex-friend situation.  taken by alexandria boss UNWANTED CHILD  ━  zo somehow ended up being this person’s very reluctant mom friend. she hates it, she does not want to deal with them, and yet she’ll still go pick up their drunk ass at 4am. she’s all about tough love, so while she may be super harsh and hard on them, she does it out of love and because she cares. not that she’d ever actually admit to caring.  taken by noelle faust UNLIKELY/ACCIDENTAL FRIENDS  ━  they shouldn’t get along, but somehow, they just do and their friendship works. not typically someone zo would see herself being friends with, but somehow an accidental friendship of sorts developed.  taken by lincoln hayes MUTUAL ANNOYANCE  ━  they annoy each other to no end and just live for pushing each other’s buttons. not quite a hatred, but some days, it’s pretty darn close. maybe there’s some sexual tension involved cuz that’s always the good shiet.  taken by sydney marco ( roommate ), zane wancosh HOOK-UPS/FLINGS/FWBS  ━  self-explanatory. a girl’s got needs. whether she actually likes you as a person or not, if you’re hot, then you’ll do the job. rip why is she like this. we can make it angsty or not because tbh zo can be pretty possessive sometimes, so y’knOW.

okay, that’s all i can think of off the top of my head. some plots i’m open for multiple characters to fill, unless it has been crossed out. and ofc, i’m always open to new ideas too!

[citkats]

Love, Victor and it's problems

Hello! First post here! I know this isn't a movie, instead of a show, but I feel like I have a few things I have the urge to spill out, so here it goes.

I've watched both seasons of Love, Victor and finished the second one the day it came out, June 11. It's now June, 26 and I've let a few thoughts and problems I've had about the show sit in my brain for a while now but they're starting to get antsy. Is the show really that serious to pick it apart and point out its flaws? No, it's supposed to be a cute little show about a boy exploring his sexuality, and I know that. But man I can't help myself, what else am I suppose to do this summer anyway? So, that being said, let's get started!

Actually, before I start I just wanted to get out of the way that I am a queer girl myself, who is also a teenager, so that is the type of viewpoint I am watching this show through. Do with that what you will :D Now we can get started, here are the three main problems I had with the show;

i. The Writing

The writing of this show is... something else to say the least. It has its good moments for sure, but man is it hard to get through an episode without cringing once or twice. Now I am no writer myself, so I can't judge too hard, but I wish the show didn't try to fit in so many pop culture references and twitter lingo to try and appeal to teens. It's so obvious while watching that the writers themselves only have a vague idea on how to use it. There is a scene of the show that is going around on twitter, instagram and tiktok where a character says something along the lines of "We stan you!" and "We're all gay AF!" (link below for the whole video).

.... like... what? My god my body collapsed in on itself when I heard that. I think the writers maybe tried to make the line of "We're gay AF" as a cringy joke to show how oblivious the character was, but the line "We will forever stan you" shows how oblivious the writers are to the use of the word "stan", or at least that's how it came off the way the actor said it. The line is said with no implication that it's supposed to be cringy or something to laugh at. I don't know if the writers were aware at the time that this is something teenagers do not say about or to their friends unless they purposely want to sound out of touch. Someone in the replies even said "In real life that won't happen ever" and they're correct. This is just one instance where the writing feels shaky but there are many more sprinkled throughout the show. This probably is super nitpicky but it's just so prevalent in the show that I felt that I had to write about it.

ii. The Love Interests

Now on to another problem, The characters of Rahim & Benji. Let's start off with Benji. He serves as the love interest for the main character Victor, which is fine! It's great! Except it isn't because that's all Benji is... a love interest. He barely has any personality and the only three things I know about him are that he is gay, is in a band, and is a recovering alcoholic. With those three things, there is so much to do with his character. They mention in the show that his dad wasn't too happy when he came out, and brought him to a strip club in order to make him "straight". I thought maybe the show would show how his relationship with his dad has been damaged and how they're slowly trying to repair it, or maybe Benji doesn't want to forgive his dad and all! But no, the restaurant scene comes and everything seems fine like something as traumatic as your own father refusing to accept your sexuality and trying to convince you to be someone else never happened. If you're going to make your character go through something like that, it would be good to show its consequences, not to sweep it under the rug! In the first half of the season, if I remember correctly, we see almost every character in a different location doing their own storyline, except Benji, who only exists at school and in the coffee shop to show that he's Victor's boyfriend. I don't think there's a single scene where it's just Benji alone doing something that doesn't involve Victor. It isn't until the later episodes where he gets his own plotline, one that revolves around him being a recovering alcoholic and being 1 year sober. Now don't even get me started on this... the fact they waited a whole season and a half to get to this huge revelation?? This is a big part of Benji that he kept secret and they could do so much with it, but it ends up being just a plot device so that Victor can break up with him and end the season on a cliffhanger. It seems like every one of Benji's plot points is to benefit Victor in some way (all except for the band, but they also never expand on that either so :/). The other couples, for example, Lake & Felix, have their own problems and stuff they're going through, not just things to benefit their love interest story. I get that Victor is the main character, but if this show is about him discovering his sexuality, should his love interest be a huge part of that? Shouldn't there be more focused on his love interest rather on his best friend? I don't know that's just how I view it.

Rahim is Victor's second love interest who is introduced halfway through the second season in the episode called Sincerely Rahim. He, like Benji, the only purpose of his character is to serve as a love interest for Victor and create a love triangle that can end season 2 on a cliffhanger, just like season 1 did. The show cared even less about Rahim than they cared about Benji since they didn't even bother to show his coming-out scene. It sucks because he comes from a Muslim family and that coming out scene could've been really meaningful, for once showing a Muslim family being accepting of a gay son instead of shunning them, which is how the media normally portrays Muslim families.

iii. The couple bias

Probably my biggest problem with this show is the clear bias to the straight couples compared to the main gay couple of the show. Like I said before, Benji being a shell of a character compared to everyone else, I don't think that's a coincidence. I am aware that there was at least one gay writer on the team, but they didn't seem to make up the majority. It's obvious the writers felt more comfortable writing straight characters and couples (eg, Victor and Mia as a couple for the majority of season one) which is fine, but if you're writing a show with a gay couple in it then get gay writers who will actually understand and have an easier more natural approach to them. This is why I think diversity in the writer's room is just as important as diversity on screen. You can put a gay character in your show but if they're written by a straight person it's not going to feel authentic and can easily fall into stereotypes. But that's a conversation for another time.

Some other small problems I had but weren't worth a whole section

-The lack of sapphic women. I think they might start a wlw plotline the next season with Lake but man.. took them two seasons in a show that's suppose to be a representation to even hint at a sapphic relationship.

-Benji's timeline for his alcoholism... if he's 16 now (junior) and been sober for a year... that means he entered rehab when he was 15... which means he's been drinking heavily since he was like 14, so much so they had to put him in rehab?? Are his parents really that neglectful? This why I am so confused about his parents because what his dad did to him was awful and yet when they show Benji's parents, his mother seems to adore him and they are both extremely welcoming to Victor. The only reason I see why he would start drinking at such a young age is that he felt bad because of his sexuality... but man, at 14 do you even understand what's going on enough to be like "this is bad I should drown my sorrows in booze".... idk such a strange timeline.

-They didn't keep up Rahim's texts to Victor, it was one and done. I get that it was supposed to be like continuity with what Simon did to Bram and then what Victor did to Simon but it felt so forced that I wish they didn't do it at all. Felt like they just left it hanging there.... ok I will admit it is really nitpicky and I'll stop now I promise!

So... that's it! I know this can come off as annoying or I'm giving huge pessimist vibes because of this but I swear me having long rants about how I feel about a show's problems is rare. Normally I like deconstructing the parts I did like rather than the parts I didn't. I do think this show is cute and serves its purpose of entertaining, and I don't hold anything against someone who enjoys it! I can easily see this being someone's comfort show, and that's completely fine. I also realize that I did dig into the writers quite a lot here, so I just want to make it clear that in no way am I questioning their talent (one is a new york times bestseller and two others have been nominated for Emmys). Hopefully, my posts in the future will be more positive but for now, I hope this deconstruction was decent!

[fictional-scenarios]

Hiya could I get a stardew valley match up? (preferably a bachelor) I’m a shy girl but I can make small talk. I’m quiet in group situations but I talk more when I’m alone w someone. I’m very soft spoken & I get questions like “r u mute?” or “u can talk?” Ppl find me mysterious and secretive. I don’t rly open up unless ppl ask me questions. I’m affectionate & I love affection. I like cuddles, hugs and kisses but I never admit it. I'm lazy so my man has to be fine w skype dates. memes4days (1/3)

I like listening to other ppl’s problems and giving advice. I flirt w friends for fun. I have a talent for making up pick up lines in seconds. Ppl say I’m brave as I stand up for myself and my friends. I’m pretty forgetful. I’m not an insecure person. I blush A LOT. Ppl say I look innocent but once I say something perverted or a curse word their reaction is priceless. I love playing video games. I also like watching other people play games. I stay up watching gaming tournaments. (2/3)

I’m pretty competitive when it comes to video & board games. In multiplayer games I go for healing roles. I have no experience in the romance department. I’ve never had a bf and the most I’ve done is hug a guy & get kabedonned. I’m very shy and blushy around guys. I’m a lil slow in the head but grade wise I get A’s. I like rock, heavy metal, ost’s, kpop & kdrama. I also like anime. I can get into random hobbies for a short amt of time. Eg. sewing or making videos. Thanks in advance

thanks so much for all the details! i hope you like your matchup! also i think this is the first stardew valley request on this blog, so thanks a bunch for that too!

I pair you with Sam!

At first, odds are that Sam may have overlooked you pretty much… Everyday. Your first encounter is likely brought on through Sebastian or Abigail, who happened to invite you to stick with them during a festival or event. He’d ask them who you were and would be pretty shocked to find out that you’ve lived in Pelican town for a while now. He’d feel bad and likely apologize, bluntly stating that he’s never seen you before, and in turn would become interested in your ‘mysterious’ nature. 

From that point on Sam sort of starts to see you everywhere. He sees you out for walks, relaxing at the beach, fishing down on the docks, or just running errands for any of the townspeople. He rarely goes wandering around town but he may just start if it means he has a chance of seeing you. 

He tends to ‘accidentally’ run into you while you’re out and about, exclaiming that he’s surprised to see you even though he’d been looking forward to just waving hello to you all morning. It’s strange- despite his loud and outgoing nature he’s a pretty bashful guy. He’s also blunt and naturally says the first thing that pops into his head, but for you he tries to work ways around directly asking you to hang out or talk. He’ll put requests on the board hoping you’ll come to see him (even if he has to pay), or he’ll try and find things out about you through Sebastian. 

Not being much of a talker isn’t a huge deal to him at all. Plus, if we’re being honest, he’s a bit experienced in the ‘getting to know the silent kid’ department. After all, his closest friend is Sebastian and he’s the most reclusive guy in the entire town. Through the years of hanging out with distant people he’s learned which questions to ask, which to avoid, and the easiest way to get someone to open up to him. He’ll ask you about your family life and what your hobbies are, just basic things that he slowly ends up getting really into hearing about. After a while he may start to get a bit more personal, his questions turning into things such as what you’d like to do with your life when you’re older, or maybe what type of family like you’d like to create.

The two of you would most likely start talking more in depth and more consistently through skype and maybe during chat rooms while playing videogames together. The two of you chat back and forth late into the night, having fun and messing around. Sometimes these calls can get a bit personal depending on where you go with your conversations, and eventually he’d open up to you as well. Sam’s easy to comfort, and while his concerns (such as his father being away) aren’t easily solved, you can cheer him up quickly. Eventually when he feels like you’ve grown comfortable together, he’d invite you to join him on his friday Stardrop Saloon game nights. 

Sam’s big on affection. There’s nothing he loves more than keeping an arm around you or holding you close to him while strolling through town (something he finds himself doing much more often than before). He partly loves PDA because of pride reasons but it’s also because he just… Really adores the feeling of mutual love. When you’re alone, however, much of his affection is a lot more genuine and personal. He’ll give you kisses on the top of your head, run his thumbs over your knuckles, or he’ll let you rest your head on his chest while he keeps an arm wrapped around you tight. You wouldn’t think that someone who’s an avid ‘prankster’ and spends most of his time playing guitar would being so naturally affectionate, but he is. 

Speaking of guitars, he loves to play you songs. He’ll make all sorts of them, the lyrics ranging from silly to very loving. He’ll sing these songs for you while strumming away and while they’re short, they’re usually very heartfelt. At first he was a bit shy at playing for you, instead just opting to giving you notes with his lyrics on it, but eventually he came to have no issue singing just how much you mean to him. 

When he’s so used to you being soft spoken and on the more shyer side, when you do say something lewd, curse, or give a sudden well thought out pickup line he’s one of the people who will have a priceless reaction. He’ll stare at you in awe and think to himself, did you really just do that? You, his blushy, adorable, innocent partner just say that? Another thing that leaves him rather speechless is when you demonstrate your courage, standing up for either him, yourself, or one of your friends. Seeing you being so assertive and giving some asshole what for really turns the tables in his head and leaves him shook as well. He’s got heart eyes for days. 

A lot of your dates are mostly spent behind doors either at his house or at yours. They’re casual and calming, never too fancy unless one of you goes out of your way for a ‘treat yourself’ evening. Sam’s favorite date with you out of them all is (as lame as it is) ordering some nice take out and then spending the evening either watching a show, movie, or playing video games. When you’re both on the same team you’re virtually unstoppable.  He also really loves the nights where you join him on playing Solorian Chronicles with Sebastian, since god knows they both need a healer.

Sam thinks it’s great when you pick up new, nice hobbies! He’ll encourage you, listen to whatever you have to say about it and whatever you’re passionate about. Seeing you light up about things really makes his whole day, and sometimes he even gives learning the hobby a shot. He’s generally terrible at crafts, though. If you ever make him something like a scarf, a drawing, or something else, he’ll keep it forever because it has so much sentimental value to him. Over the years he keeps a shoebox full of things that mean a lot to him, and most of it consists of things you’ve made for him. Sometimes he likes to go through his box and think back to all the fun you two had while also imagining everything you both have yet to do together. 

[kayleepetey]

Of Sutures, Spilled Juice, and Sticky Notes (Olicity AU fic)

So, after what I know has been a TERRIBLY long dry spell from me with my lack of writing and posting, things have just been busy and tiring in real life, here I finally have a story! This is the first part in a series of one-shots for a new Olicity alt-'verse, The Paramedic and the Vigilante. I have no idea how it came to me, literally I woke up one morning with this world and the versions of our beloved characters in my head and I had to write it. I hope you guys like it!

Disclaimer: I own NOTHING, I am not receiving anything in the production of this story, it is purely for fun and entertainment.

Thank you to my beta and wonderful dartie, @agentsassydirewolf! Thank you for all the help, advice, and even for egging me on! ;-) You're the best!

>>>------------>

Of Sutures, Spilled Juice, and Sticky Notes

Tommy was right. Oh, how it pained Oliver to admit that; he hated being wrong--the Army shrink had rambled on and on about that particular "trait" (read: issue)--and hated admitting to it even more--oh, had the quacks ever had a field day with his bucket-load of issues...

Two years ago Oliver Queen's 12-year, decorated career in Army Special Forces ended after 9 months held captive by the enemy resulted in two fused vertebrae, a knee replacement, complete burnout, and a psych diagnosis of PTSD. The Army (and a few other government agencies he would never be able to name because the ops were unlikely to ever be declassified) and the United States of America extended their most heartfelt thanks for his service, operated on and rehabbed him, then gave him an early medical retirement.

Naturally Oliver's one-percenter, semi-absentee parents had been thrilled that that "nonsense" was over; they'd assumed this meant he'd take up his "rightful place" with his father at the family company and among the Starling upper-crust society. They even planned how to spin his "patriotism" into positive PR for the company, as well as responses (read: smoke screening) to questions about his business qualifications—or more accurately the lack-thereof.

Oliver instead had taken his G.I. Bill and become a paramedic--he'd briefly considered also going on to become a fireman so he could work out of the Fire Department, but nixed it due to an...incident in Kandahar that he and his Army buddy and mentor, John Diggle, still didn't talk about to this day, no matter how much the shrinks had prodded them; that was a place neither of them ever wanted to revisit. Oliver had immediately volunteered to work on the worst side of town, the Glades, much to his parents' further dismay, and quickly proved himself as the coolest head and most fearless--his friends called it "reckless" but Oliver preferred "fearless"--which were vital traits in many cases. And since he was rather perpetually single--it had to be some form of the universe getting karmic revenge after his playboy past: him being seemingly unable to have a woman stay with him for longer than a couple of dates now that he'd actually might want that--Oliver often took on extra shifts for coworkers who got sick, whose kids got sick, or who went on vacation with their family--his friends and sister accused him of using work to distract himself and avoid dating, but who could blame him after of the last three women one never called him back after the first date, another stalked him, and the third got shot by said stalker?

Suffice it to say that his workaholism--or avoidance tactics, according to his sister, friends, and his last shrink before he fired him--were the reason behind him now having to do something he hated: conceding to someone else being right.

Oliver had started out working his standard shift, then done a double when Charlie had called in because her daughter, two boys, and life-partner were all sick with the stomach flu; that had then rolled into a triple because of a 20-car pileup. He'd just dropped off their last patient when his oldest friend, Tommy Merlyn, ER surgeon-extraordinaire of Glades Memorial, stole his keys and forced him to go to one of the empty tea treatment rooms to rack-out for a few hours before going home, pointing out that after working for so long he had no business driving home on basically no sleep. When he'd sensed Oliver not quite giving in he went in for the kill: "I'm not going to let you go out there and become car accident victim number 21 for the night."

Rolling his eyes, Oliver reluctantly agreed to stay for at least four hours--negotiated down from the original six--and trudged through the familiar halls to the room his friend had indicated.

The further he got from the ER the quieter the halls became and the activity less frantic; he smiled and greeted the orderlies, nurses, and doctors as he made his way through--he was more or less familiar with everyone who worked there, it was a small, understaffed hospital, so everyone knew each other. Oliver checked in with the desk nurse--a sweet mother of two named Jenny--to let her know that Tommy had ordered him to use the room in her ward, to which she'd laughed and said she'd note it on the board for the room not to be disturbed unless necessary, doctor's orders.

Exhausted--and part of him wishing he was ten years younger--Oliver pushed open the door to the small room.

Which was already occupied.

The member of the trio of Starling City vigilantes dubbed by the police and media as "The Hood"—dumb name in his opinion—was standing by the counter, holding a wad of gauze of her left, black leather-clad shoulder, eyes visibly wide behind her signature hood and mask, even in the dim room, lit mostly by moonlight filtering in through the open window.

Oliver was frozen for but a moment—longer than it normally would be but he was coming off a triple, so he figured he could be cut some slack—before he closed the door and locked it behind him. "Gunshot wound?"

Hoodie--yeah, nevermind, he was not gonna call her that--blinked. "What?"

"Your wound." He gestured to her shoulder. "Is it from a gunshot?"

"Umm...yeah..." It sounded more like a question than an answer.

"Is it a through-n-through?"

Her mouth open and closed a couple of times before saying, "I feel like I should know what that means, but I'm kinda distracted from my bleeding to death and your general, extreme hotness." The dark-haired vigilante's teeth audibly snapped shut and her eyes squeezed tightly closed, embarrassment obvious.

Oliver found himself fighting a grin--where the hell had that come from?! He hadn't found much of anything amusing in  years, and this girl managed to amuse him within 60 seconds of meeting her?!--before stepping forward and clarifying, "Is the bullet still in your shoulder?"

"No, no bullet. I mean, there was a bullet, obviously, but it didn't stay in my shoulder, it went right through-- Thus...the through-n-through you mentioned. Yeah...it's been a night." Her perfectly straight and perfectly white teeth bit her full, dark fuchsia lower lip.

The fair-haired paramedic had reached her side and pulled the gauze away from her shoulder. All he could see was a bloody hole in the black leather. "We need to get this off." He tossed the used gauze into the medical waste bin before beginning to tug on her long coat.

She complied with his urging, unbuckling her belt then working the leather over her good shoulder with ease, while muttering, "Usually I wait until the third date before I let a guy start taking off my clothes." Her eyes again went comically wide.

This time Oliver could not quell the amused smirk that quirked his lips. "Better track record than I have."

Out of the corner of his eye he could see her mouth hanging open, while she stared at him, he probably felt overly-proud at being able to so shock one of the women who had the scum of the Glades running scared. The coat came off to reveal a, in his opinion, sensibly long sleeve top--who the hell would go fighting knife, gun, and other weapons-wielding criminals in short-sleeves or sleeveless tops?! He tugged at the sleeve. "This too."

"Now we're really getting into third date territory." This time he was pretty sure it was intentional on her part, she seemed to be watching him closely to see how he'd react.

He helped her with the clasps on her top that her wounded shoulder made a struggle. "You can buy me a drink later if it'll make you feel better."

"Oh, it should definitely be the other way around," she quipped back.

When was the last time Oliver had had this much fun bantering with someone? "Really?" Peeling back the leather top revealed a simple black tank, and a ragged gunshot wound, which he closely inspected using his penlight.

"Yep." She sucked in a sharp breath when he gently prodded the edge of the wound, shooting her an apologetic look before returning his attention to the injury. "Actually you should spring for an entire meal. I'm not a cheap date."

"Noted." He moved behind her so that he could take a look at the corresponding wound--notably the entrance wound, some fucking coward had shot her in the back--noting that both would only require a few stitches. "I should be able to close these fairly quickly, and the bullet missed the artery."

She twisted her head at a slightly awkward angle to look at the wounds. "Are you sure? It's bleeding a lot."

Oliver just barely managed to suppress a smile, nodding and leading her over to the bed. "I'm sure. If they'd hit an artery, you'd probably already be dead, and definitely would be unconscious." He drew her to a halt before him.

She managed to cock an eyebrow above her mask. "Well, you're a cheerful one."

He smirked. "Always." Then he grasped her around the waist and lifted her to sit on the bed.

"Oh!" the startled sound escaped her on a gasp, her lips parting into a delicious "o" that Oliver forced himself to ignore, along with how perfectly the curve of her waist fit in his hands, and that she smelled of freesias and violets.

Oliver withdrew to wash his hands before turning to the supply cabinets, quickly searching through them until he uncovered the items he was looking for, then set them all on a sterile tray and returned to her side, pulling on nitrile gloves. "We'll need to clean the wound first which isn't going to be pleasant."

The masked woman visibly swallowed. "I can take it." She was trying to sound tough, but Oliver could hear the tiniest quaver in her tone. The front wasn't necessary in his book, he already applauded the strength and bravery she'd shown thus far and did so every night on the streets.

He cleaned the wound as best he could, pretending he didn't hear the occasional gasps and whimpers that escaped her. Finally it was satisfactorily clean and, picking up the suture, he turned his gaze on her again, this time very apologetic. "I'm sorry, but they don't keep any anesthetic, even local, in the rooms. So this is going to hurt a lot."

Swallowing hard, the dark-haired woman tried to give a nonchalant shrug, spoiling the effect with a full-body flinch and grimace at moving her injured shoulder, saying, "It can't hurt worse than the bullet did, right?"

Technically, no, a gunshot was more painful, however the stitches were going to take time so the pain would be more sustained. But Oliver wasn't going to tell her that. "Just keep breathing. Don't want you to pass out."

"You suck at this bedside mannnnnnnnnneeeeeeeeeer-- Ow ow ow owowowowow OW!"

He cast her an apologetic look from where he'd begun the stitches. "Well, there is a reason I'm a paramedic and not a doctor or nurse."

"Do paramedics even do stitches? I mean, are you even trained to do this?!" Her voice was becoming higher pitched and edging towards hysterical.

Oliver needed to head off that hysteria. "As a matter of fact I have been trained in sutures and have quite a bit of experience with them. I was Special Forces and trained in some field medicine." He kept his voice calm and soothing, his tone turning a little teasing as he continued, "And are you really gonna complain about the qualifications of the man helping you, no-questions-asked, Hoodie?" The name he'd thought of earlier popping back into his mind.

"What did you just call me?" she gritted out through her clenched in pain teeth.

Bingo. "Well, it's better than 'The Hood,'" he used a mock foreboding tone on the moniker as he moved to her back. "Dumb name, 'The Hood.' You should get a better one, Hoodie." Keeping her mad was good, anger kept hysteria away and would help keep her from passing out.

"Call me Hoodie again and I'll kill you," the dark-haired woman snarled. She kinda reminded Oliver of a feisty, little kitten, he liked her spirit; she and Thea would get along famously...he should probably make sure they never met. For many, many reasons.

"Considering I can bench press you, I think I'm okay with taking my chances, Hoodie." Most people would think he had a death wish, taunting one of the Starling City vigilantes, but after all he'd been through and done his fear threshold was set rather high, not much of anything fazed him at this point. And besides, even if she really could kill him he didn't think she actually would...probably. At least not until after he'd finished patching her up first. And besides he was growing fond of the nickname Hoodie.

"Then I'll ruin your life! You have no idea what these fingers can do!"

He raised an eyebrow at her, lips twitching. "No, I don't, but I'm sure I'd like to find out, Hoodie."

She frowned for a moment, thinking back on what she'd said before squeezing her eyes shut and groaning. "With a computer! Not...other stuff. Not that I'm not good at that other stuff, I mean, my last boyfriend said--" She clenched her jaw shut and then began counting down through her teeth," 3... 2... 1..."

"Done." Oliver snipped off the excess from the last suture.

Her head whipped around to look where he'd been sewing up the hole in the back of her shoulder. "You're done? Already?"

"Yep." He picked up a couple of large bandages, gently applying them over the stitches on each side of her shoulder, ignoring--or trying to--how soft her skin was under his fingers, even through the gloves, as he smoothed the adhesive edges down.

The vigilante narrowed her eyes at him. "Nice distraction technique."

"Worked in the field." Oliver gathered up everything and tossed it along with his gloves into the med waste bin. "Though I did nearly get my ass kicked once. ASA guy, my partner literally had to tie the guy's hands together behind his back. Still got socked in the jaw afterwards." He picked up her discarded top and gently began to help her pull the sleeve up her injured arm. "So, you're gonna want to keep those sutures as dry as possible, and try not to use that shoulder much, you do have a hole in it so it's gonna need some time to heal and recover, and you don't want to tear the stitches out either. You have someone who can take them out for you in a couple weeks?"

"Yeah, my partners can help me." She fumbled a bit with the fasteners on her top, so Oliver reached over and began to help her with them again. "I'm a big girl, I can dress myself, thanks," she grumbled a bit.

"Seemed to me that you needed a little help. And my mother raised me to be a gentleman and to help a lady when she needed it," he drawled sardonically, before gripping her waist and lifting her down from the bed.

"Yeah, I'll bet. Especially when it involves helping a lady out of her clothes? And why is it you keep picking me up and moving me places? I'm not a doll, I am perfectly capable of moving myself, thanks," she snarked back.

He snorted at her comment about him helping women out of their clothes. "Humor the man who just put the stitches into your shoulder and would rather not see them get ripped out immediately thereafter," Oliver wryly asked her, holding out her coat to help her slip it on.

Rolling her eyes, she allowed him to assist her, pointing out over her shoulder, "You realize that when I climb out the window and down the fire escape that's gonna be substantially more strenuous than hopping off a bed?"

"Thus why you're not going out the fire escape," he easily countered her, already moving towards the door.

Her eyebrows shot towards her hairline. "Is that so?"

"Yep." Oliver cracked the door, checking the hallway.

"And exactly how am I going to get out of here unseen?" Out of the corner of his eyes he saw her start to cross her arms, but then wince and let them drop back to her sides.

"The cameras are out on this floor, and just two doors down there's a stairwell that has an exit into the alley behind the hospital." The paramedic looked back at her. "That's how you're going to get out."

She blinked a couple of times, before joining him. "Well, if you want to be all logical and safe about it."

He smirked. "That'd be my preference." Quickly he scanned the hall, making sure it was clear. "Okay, let's go." Placing his hand at the small of her back, he urged her out of the room and down the hall, head on a swivel, ready to duck out of sight if someone came. They then reached the door to the stairwell and he held it open for her. "Down these stairs you'll find the exit, the one for the alley is the one without a window. Can you get yourself to safety from there?"

"Yeah." She nodded, eyeing him closely. "Why are you helping me? I'm wanted by the police, and you, y'know, work with the police."

Oliver was acutely aware of the hall at his back and that someone could appear at any moment and find them, but he considered his words carefully before answering, "The Glades need help. And you and your friends are among the only people actually trying to make a difference. Trying to do good. And you are." He heard the sound of faint footsteps approaching. "Go, and be careful."

"Thank you!" she managed to say just before the door closed.

Oliver nodded in acknowledgement through the tiny window, before forcing himself to turn and head down the hall back to the room, not wanting anyone to see him at the stairwell and it get back to Tommy that he attempted to "escape" or something. He nodded and smiled tiredly to the nurse he passed in the hall before ducking back into the room; he did a quick visual sweep to make sure there wasn't any evidence left that Hoodie--she'd probably would  kill him if she knew that he now thought of her as that--had been there, but aside from the blankets on the bed being slightly wrinkled, which wasn't an issue, everything looked perfectly normal.

As he breathed out a relieved sigh a new wave of exhaustion washed over him, his body screaming abuse at him, and the sigh turned into a grumble. Locking the door again--he did not need anyone getting in the room unexpectedly if his mind decided to revisit one of his nightmares; the last time someone had surprised him while he was having a nightmare he'd nearly killed his mother--Oliver moved to the bed, toeing out of his shoes before basically collapsing face first onto the cheap crappy mattress, though his sleep-deprived body thought it felt like the most amazing bed ever at the moment. Finally he gave into his exhaustion, his mind slowly sinking down into sleep, the scent of freesias and violets drifting from the blankets and following him pleasantly into his dreams.

>>>---------->

One Week Later

Felicity gritted her teeth as her shoulder throbbed beneath her pink blouse, the asshole she'd passed on the way to her desk had slammed into it, not even bothering to apologize. Jerk. She forced herself not to rub it, as was her first instinct, knowing it would do more harm than good. Sara had assured Felicity that the person who patched her up did a great job. When her bo-staff wielding compatriot asked who it was that'd helped her, Felicity had told her that he hadn't given his name. Not a lie, because he hadn't, but who in Starling City didn't know Oliver Queen? All these days later and Felicity still didn't know why she hadn't told Sara who it was that'd helped her.

Unconsciously her fingers rose to lightly rest on the stitches, remembering his gentle touch as he bantered with and teased her, amusement shining through the shadows in his bright blue eyes. Felicity honestly hadn't ever expected to meet the heir to the Queen empire, so she hadn't really had any set expectations as to what he'd be like. At least she'd thought she hadn't, but when she met him he'd surprised her at every turn. The second she'd thought she had a handle on who he was and how he'd react, he'd done something she completely didn't expect. He'd completely and utterly shed the playboy persona of his teen years, his serving in the Army for over a decade alone proved that, and he had a sardonic, self-deprecating sense of humor she wouldn't have predicted. Above all, she'd learnt that Oliver Queen cared, deeply. He could have just taken the easy path offered to him by following his parents' plans for him, but instead he chose to enlist in the Army, where he'd volunteered for the truly dangerous jobs, while also lending a helping hand where he could--she may or may not have hacked his file, and while some of it was too heavily protected for her to risk attracting attention by digging any deeper, what she had been able to find told her a great deal about the kind of person he was.

After the hell of his captivity--even just reading the debrief of what had happened to him and his fellow soldier, John Diggle, and the resulting injuries had Felicity cringing in her seat--no one would have faulted him for choosing the easier life his family wanted for him, but instead he'd chosen a profession that was dedicated to helping others and to do so in the roughest part of town and that was most in need. Oliver had a big heart, possibly the biggest Felicity had ever encountered, one, she was beginning to suspect that even from their brief encounter, he hid under sarcasm and a façade of professional distance--that, and him trying to keep her calm while doing his job, had better be the reason why he called her freaking Hoodie. Whatever else Oliver Queen might be, he was definitely a good man.

"Felicity Smoak?"

And "he" was apparently standing in front of her cubicle.

Frack.

Felicity had automatically looked up at her name being called, and if there ever was a "speak of the devil" moment, this was it. But what a handsome devil he was... Frack, her brain.

He gave her a charming, but distant, smile. "Hi, I'm Oliver Queen."

Yes, yes, he was. In all his muscle-ly, perfectly scruffy glory; his forearms strained against the rolled up sleeves of his blue plaid shirt, and his jeans clung very nicely to his strong thighs--and probably perfectly formed to his unbelievable ass.

Felicity didn't realize she'd been staring until he cleared his throat, startling her out of her stupor. Gods of Google she hoped that for once she'd managed to not babble all of that.

The smirk on Oliver's face and the amusement dancing in his eyes put a damper on that hope.

"I'll take all of that as a compliment."

And now it was DOA. Double frack.

Blushing furiously, Felicity pushed her glasses up her nose and cleared her throat. "Mr. Queen, please accept my apologies for those utterly inappropriate statements--"

"Oliver," he easily cut in.

"What?" She blinked up at him from behind her square frames.

"It's Oliver. Mr. Queen is my father."

"Of course he is. Because he's my boss and that's his name. But it's your name too, and it's on the side of the building--" Felicity forcefully snapped her jaw shut, trying to keep herself from digging an even deeper hole.

He shifted on his feet, for the first time in their short acquaintance actually looking uncomfortable. Felicity noticed the fingers of his right hand were rubbing together rapidly, her mind for some reason taking note of the tiny gesture. "Still, I'd rather you call me Oliver." There was nothing flirtatious about his tone, in fact it was rather flat and firm.

This was important to him; she didn't really understand why--yet--but it was obviously something he felt very strongly about, and Felicity would respect his wishes on this. Slowly, she nodded. "Okay, Oliver, what can I do for you?"

Gratitude washed over his face--Felicity pretended not to feel the warmth that flooded her heart at the expression--before a somewhat sheepish look overtook it. He lifted up a laptop he'd been carrying at his side and set it on her desk.

When Felicity placed her fingers on it she immediately noted a sticky substance coating it; she pulled her hands back with a grimace. "What happened to this…" she eyed the computer, noting how it was several generations old, "poor dinosaur?"

"Hey!" He jabbed a finger at her, a teasing note threading his offended tone. "That dinosaur has served me well! Survived multiple deployments."

"And it should have been enjoying a nice honorable discharge to the back of your closet, not whatever travesty has befallen it instead," she countered, matching the teasing in his tone as she reprimanded him.

Bashfully ducking his head and stuffing his hands in his pockets, Oliver shrugged. "I kept meaning to get a new computer, but it ran fine so I just put it off."

She cocked an eyebrow. "So, what happened to Dino?"

He slowly raised his gaze to hers. "I was watching my goddaughter and apparently sippy cups aren't as leak-proof as they make them out to be..."

"Or maybe there was a user error? And by that, I mean you, not the child."

Grinning wryly, he shrugged. "Wouldn't be the first time. They call these things kid-friendly and then make them impossible to operate. It took me three hours to put her swing thing," he made some odd gestures with his arms, apparently supposed to describe the object--and Felicity found it far too adorable, "birthday present together last month."

She ducked her head to try to hide her twitching lips. He probably didn't realize just how much the simple statement said about him. Good gods of Google, it truly was unfair for a man that good-looking to be so sweet and actually kinda...adorkable...

Felicity quickly shook her head, trying to get rid of those thoughts. "So, What exactly can I do for you? Because I'm pretty sure not even I can help this poor unfortunate soul."

"Well, as long as the it doesn't cost my voice, I was hoping you could get the files off the hard drive," he teased back.

She felt her eyebrows shoot up.

At her surprise, Oliver shrugged. "The Little Mermaid was my kid sister's favorite growing up, and now Sara, my goddaughter, likes to watch it every time she comes over to my place."

Frack. How the hell did this guy just keep getting more and more attractive?! He's your boss. He's your boss. She tried to keep the mantra up, but a unhelpful corner of her mind slyly threw in, He's your boss...sorta. Not really... He doesn't work here at all, he's just the son of-- Shut up! Great, and now she was having arguments with her own brain. Felicity shook all that away before turning back to Oliver with a smile. "Let me take a look at it and see what I can do."

Oliver smiled. Gods of Google help her, he really smiled. It was brilliant, it lit his too-old eyes in such a breathtaking way, brighter than she'd seen them either in the media or in person. "Thank you, Felicity."

She'd never heard someone say her name like that, lingering over each of the syllables, as if savoring them. Frack, this man was unreal.

He snagged one of her sticky note pads, the green one, and picked up her red pen, scribbling quickly. "Here's my number, just call me when you're done." He grinned at her again, handing her the pad and pen back.

"Of course!" Felicity pushed her glasses up her nose with her free hand. "It should only take a couple of days."

"No rush," he assured her as he stuck his hands in his pockets. An oddly knowing glint entered his eyes, a smirk touching his lips. "See you around, Felicity."

"See you." She watched him until he turned the corner out of the IT Department, then shook her head to banish the very appealing images of Oliver Queen. She finally looked down at his note, preparing to pull it from the pad and stick it by her screen, but froze, eyes going wide as she actually read what he'd written below his phone number:

Just in case you need some more medical assistance, Hoodie.

Her first thought was: I'm gonna kill him for calling me Hoodie!

Her second thought was: Fuck.

>>>----------->

So, I will definitely be doing more in this 'verse, I'm having TONS of fun with these versions of Oliver and Felicity! XD

Thank you for reading! Please let me know what you think and if you want to see more from this AU!