#we got love from the other side the Phoenix sugar were going down and half of uma Thurman

[tarotmantic]

fob got three and a half songs in and then it started thunderstorming so u can imagine how my night is going

[topguncortez]

I love your shy MC series so much, and I know this doesn’t really fit in it, but I can’t stop thinking of a shy MC who had a one night stand with hangman and got pregnant saying this:

“maybe we should move in together. n-not permanently. just until the baby’s born.”

I love this:)

pairing: Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x Female!Reader word count: 2k prompts list:)

It was just supposed to be a night of fun. A night where you completely lose sight of anything and everything. A night where in the morning you wake up in your bathtub with a half drunk bottle of tequila. It wasn't ever supposed to equal in a positive pregnancy test six weeks later.

Y/N didn't even know his number to call him. All she could remember was that his friends called him 'Bagman' but his real name was Jake. He had a stupidly perfect smile, and stupidly perfect hair. He was charming and had a bit of an accent in his speech. She could also remember they bonded over the fact they had just gotten out of long-term failed relationships. One shot led into another, and it led into another and then it led to Jake taking Y/N home, and their clothes on the floor of her bedroom.

"I have no clue what to do, Nat," Y/N said to her best friend.

"Well, I guess call the guy," Natasha said.

She couldn’t believe that her shy, sweet best friend since birth would end up in this situation either. Natasha and Y/N had always been opposites of each other in a way. Natasha was always the “wild” one in their friendship, encouraging the drinking and partying, within reason of course. 

“I don’t have his number, or-or anything,” Tears started clouding her vision as she stood up from the bed and started pacing, “My parents are going to kill me.” 

“Okay,” Natasha stood up, and grabbed her friend’s arms, stopping her from pacing, “It’ll be okay. I’m not gonna sugar coat it, they will probably be mad, but you have me. I’m not going anywhere, I’m not going to leave you. I’ll be here the whole time, and hold your hand through anything and everything. You’re basically my sister, okay? You got this.” 

“I can do this,” Y/N said, nodding and Natasha smiled. 

That moment was six months ago, and Y/N still hadn’t found the father of her baby. She also wasn’t actively searching either. She wasn’t new to hookup culture, she knew what one-night stands were meant to be. It didn’t surprise her when this Jake dude didn’t leave his number or address on her bedside table in the morning. Y/N could hardly even remember what he looked like, except those piercing green eyes. She hoped that her baby had the same beautiful green eyes as he did. 

Natasha, true to her word, had stayed by her friend’s side through it all. Through those early mornings spent throwing up, to doctors appointments, to looking at paint swatches on the walls of the small house Y/N lived in. Natasha had a bunch of questions about this mystery guy, but out of respect for her friend, she didn’t ask. 

The two of them walked into the Hard Deck, seeing as the evening crowd was already starting to file in. Natasha had invited Y/N along to celebrate Rooster’s birthday. Rooster had also become a close friend of Y/N, through her friendship with Natasha. Rooster had tried to make a move on her, but Natasha had cornered him and told him about Y/N being pregnant and scared and to stay away. So, Rooster being the man he is, respected both of them, and helped out the best he could with things around Y/N’s house. 

“Phoenix! Y/N!” Rooster called for them as soon as they entered the Hard Deck. Phoenix nodded over at him and led Y/N over to where Rooster and the other members of the Dagger Squad were. Rooster hugged both of them, and thanked them for coming. 

“Hey, Y/N,” Bob said, as the girl sat down next to him. As the only two sober ones as of late, Bob and Y/N had gotten close. He handed her a lemonade that he ordered and she smiled at him. 

“Thank you, Bob,” Y/N said, and rested her hands on her belly. 

“Baby active?” 

“All day,” Y/N looked down at her belly just in time to see a small nudge coming from within her womb, “Running out of room in there, and they don’t like it. But I’m not entirely ready for them to make their appearance either.” 

“Soon enough, Y/N, soon enough,” Bob said, and took a sip of his water. 

The two of them fell into a conversation about their day. For both of them, it was as easy as breathing to talk to one another. Natasha thought that Bob would be a good match for her friend, and had been slowly pushing him to make a move on her. Natasha knew that Bob liked Y/N, but he was too much of a gentleman to make a move. It wasn’t that Bob was scared to take on the responsibility of being a father, it was that he respected her and didn’t want to add to the stress of becoming a mother. Bob had silently agreed to be there for her too, like Rooster and Natasha were. 

“Look who decided to show up!” Payback yelled, catching Y/N and Bob’s attention. Her heart stopped beating as she noticed those green eyes and that stupidly perfect smile, “If it ain’t Bagman!” 

“Oh my god,” Y/N let out, and Bob looked at her in worry. 

“What? Are you okay? Is it the baby?” Bob asked quickly, his voice thick with his accent. 

“What? I uh,” Y/N said, snapping out of her trance as ‘Bagman’  walked through the bar and greeted his friends, “No it’s not the baby, I um, excuse me.” 

Bob watched as Y/N got up quickly from the booth, and walked right over to Natasha. Phoenix looked up at her with a smile, but it quickly dropped seeing that her friend’s face was unreadable. Y/N quickly grabbed her friend’s arm and pulled her towards the bathrooms, only to be stopped when her shoulder ran into something hard. 

“I’m sorry-” “Oh sorry-” 

“Y/N,” Jake said, his green eyes looking her up and down and widening at the sight of her baby bump, “Wow.” 

“I can-” 

“We’re gonna go get some air,” Natasha said quickly, and pulled her friend towards the back door of the Hard Deck. Once they were out of earshot of the bar, Y/N sat down in one of the chairs on the deck, and took a deep breath, “I’m not gonna ask but-” 

“He’s the father of my child.” 

“Yeah, that’s what I was not gonna ask,” Natasha said, and rubbed her forehead, “When?” 

“Well, six months ago. Two weeks after Daniel and I broke up. I went out for a drink, and Jake was there because he-” 

“Just broke up with Gwen. So you two had a one night stand and,” Natasha gestured to her friend, “Wow. I can't believe it. . . You slept with Hangman?” 

“Hangman? I thought it was Bagman,” Y/N said, and Natasha laughed, “I didn’t even know his name was Jake until we were half naked in my bed. I didn’t know a single thing about him.” 

“Oh my god! Ew! So you’re the girl he was bragging about fucking! Oh my god.” 

“Really? What did he say? Did he say I was good?” 

“Y/N!” 

“What?!” She giggled and Natasha shook her head, as the back door to the Hard Deck opened. Jake walked out apprehensively, and gave a tight lipped smile to Phoenix, “I think you two need to talk.” Y/N nodded and Natasha looked back at Jake, who was waiting by the side of the building to come over, “I’ll be right inside if you need me.” 

“I think I got this,” Y/N said and Natasha hugged her friend before heading back inside the building. Jake waited a second, before walking over to her, and sitting down in front of her. Y/N took a deep breath and shifted in her seat, feeling the glare of Jake’s green eyes on her belly. 

“How far along?” He asked. 

“Twenty-nine weeks,” She answered, and Jake sighed. She could tell by his body language, he wanted to touch her belly. Rooster had been the same way when she popped, wanting to feel it, but Natasha had smacked his hand back and made him ask, “You can touch it.” 

“I don’t want to make you uncomfortable,” He looked up at her, his green eyes sparkling. 

“It’s okay,” Y/N whispered, and Jake shifted, placing his large hand on her bump. He felt the overwhelming sense to cry as he rubbed his hands gently over the place where his baby was. He didn’t even bother to ask if the baby was his, he already knew. Even though they spent one night together, Jake knew that Y/N wasn’t the type to go and sleep around. 

“I’m sorry I just left.” 

“I’m sorry I didn’t try and find you,” Y/N said, “Even though I didn’t know where to look.” 

“I honestly was scared to stay,” Jake said, and removed his hands from her bump. She bit back a whimper at the loss of warmth from him, as he sat back in his chair, “I knew you probably just wanted one night, but I. . . I fell in love with you.” 

“Jake, I-” 

“No, you don’t have to say it,” Jake said shaking his head, “Just tell me what I can do now. Are you okay? Is the baby healthy? You look good, so I guess that means something.” 

Y/N blushed and rubbed her belly, “I’m good, baby is healthy. It’s a little girl, actually.” 

“Really? I’m gonna be a girl dad,” Jake smiled and Y/N nodded. The two sat in silence for a beat, as Jake shifted in his seat, and leaned closer to her, “Maybe we should move in together. N-not permanently. Just until the baby’s born.”

“Oh! Like in my house?” 

“Yeah, I still live in a barracks dorm, and you probably have the house set up and-” 

“I think that would be okay,” Y/N said, her neck was bright red as she blushed, “I have a guest room, currently an office, but it has a nice bed and stuff. And I mean, it would be nice having you around, not that you couldn’t have been nice early, but you didn’t know so it’s okay that you are here now and I-” 

“I get it,” Jake said, cutting her rambling off, “Would you like to meet up tomorrow? For lunch?” 

“Lunch is good,” Y/N smiled, and looked over at the window of the bar, seeing both Natasha and Bradley looking at them, “We should head back in.” Jake nodded, and held his hand out for her to take. She thanked him as she pushed herself up from the chair, and began walking back in the bar. She paused for a second and turned around to face Jake. 

“Listen, I know you are a good man, and that you want to be there for your child but. . . Jake, I have feelings for someone else.” 

Jake felt like a dagger had been pushed through his heart. He could tell that she probably didn’t feel the same about him when he mentioned that he fell in love with her seven months ago. She had been the only thing on Jake’s mind these past couple weeks, wondering where she was and who she was and what she was doing. But hearing her say it hurt even more than just thinking it. 

“I know,” Jake said, giving her a tight lipped smile, “Still not going to stop me from carrying about you or my child.”

[earlgreytea68]

The Good Things Festival - Sydney

Dear EGT, do you mind if I share with you my disappointing FOB experience? None of my friends or family are in the fandom as I am, and I just want to tell someone who will be able to understand my grief.

I am in Australia, living near Brisbane, and when I heard that they were coming here I was ecstatic and eager to go to the Good Things Festival. I didn’t manage to get a Brisbane ticket before they were all sold out, but decided to make a weekend of it and bought a ticket to the Sydney festival, and train tickets down and back, with a couple of days accommodation in between. The train trips were 12 and 14 hours, respectively, which I personally was looking forward to, as I have two young children and the idea of two entire days in which no one could even get in touch with me via phone was BLISS.

I reached the concert venue (which was a fenced-off section of a huge and beautiful park with lots of trees) about an hour and a half before their set, enough time to decide me that none of the other bands there are anywhere near their league in performance or composition.

They came on after playing ‘We didn’t start the fire’ and ‘The Pink Seashell’ on the screen, and they were great. I was impressed with my fellow concert-goers that lots of them seemed to know the words to at least the first couple of verses of ‘We didn’t start the fire’, and most shouted out the chorus. They played ‘Love from the other side’, ‘Phoenix’, ‘Sugar’, and were most of the way through ‘Um Thurman’, when Pete stopped the music and announced that a storm was on its way, and they were being taken off stage. He hoped that they would be able to come back on.

One of the officials then told us more - the storm coming within the hour would feature thunder, lightning, heavy rain and possibly hail, and we would all have to vacate the park. Which made sense, for both the people and the equipment, but put paid to any hope of resuming the set – by the time we had all left and the storm had finished, it would be past time for the end of the festival, not to mention the logistics of getting everyone back in again. So we all left. Getting out of the park and back to my hotel was a saga in itself (all I can say is that I am glad as always that I had something to read, and that I was soaking wet when I did arrive back), but this submission is already much too long.

We got some pyrotechnics (which was brave of them given how the sky was looking) and some of the guitar chicken game between Patrick and Joe and of course their wonderful live performance, but it was so short. I can’t even get into the larger disappointment of missing all the set with the banter and the piano solo, not to mention the cover of ‘Beds are Burning’, which I would have been so excited to see, because it is still too painful. But the smaller disappointment for me, EGT, which is what I could handle focussing on, was that they didn’t get a chance to talk to us, which is partly what for me would have set the live performance apart from a group watching a recorded concert together. We didn’t get a greeting reflecting the crowd that was gathered there in that place for that time only, or any commentary on what it was like to be there, and I am so dejected about that. I know this is definitely a first-world disappointment and I had a worthwhile weekend anyway (three nights in a bed with no one waking me, HOORAY), but I am sad when I look at your website at present, and see pictures and clips from sets in Melbourne.

***

I am SO SORRY and I appreciate very much getting this submission and please know that I completely understand how disappointed you are. I had one of the canceled HMT shows, which you may or may not remember, and I totally understand that your disappointment is probably much greater given how relatively rarer it is for them to go to Australia vs. being fairly near me in the U.S. but I also totally understand some level of your disappointment. :-( The worst is feeling like they don’t care, but I think they did and they were upset it went down the way it did. They obviously can’t ever make it totally right -- you had a whole weekend that you were looking forward to that didn’t really happen the way you wanted and it’s so unfair that it happened to you and not the rest of us and I’m so sorry.

I’m glad you got some silver linings out of the weekend, and don’t be too hard on yourself, the disappointment is real when you’ve been looking so forward to something and it gets taken away and you don’t have a real replacement for it, and it’s worse if you make yourself feel guilty for feeling upset because obviously other people have much bigger disappointments, but that’s not how emotions work, alas. Be kind to yourself. ::hugs::

[waitimcomingtoo]

Dummy

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Synopsis: Peter is the only one of the Avengers who doesn’t tease you for being a little slow 

Masterlist

Now you weren’t exactly dumb.

You were just a little slow.

When you joined the Avengers last year, the team learned pretty quickly that your mind moved at a different pace than everyone else. It wasn’t necessarily a bad thing and it didn’t keep you from doing your job, it just meant you were the butt of most of the jokes. Every time one of your blunders happened, your intelligence would be mocked in some way. You knew it was all in good fun, but it hurt to it feelings every now and then. The only person who never poked fun at you was Peter. And for that reason, he was your favorite on the team.

“How are there 23 minutes left in this movie and I still don’t know any of the characters names?” Steve wondered as you all sat in the couch in Stark Towers, watching a movie on a particularly rainy afternoon.

“I think the main kids name is Phoenix. That’s all I got though.” Sam shook his head, just as confused as Steve.

“The dogs name is Benson.” Bucky mumbled quietly.

“Who names their kid Phoenix?” Peter wondered out loud as he shoveled popcorn into his mouth. The two of you were tucked into the corner of the couch, sharing a blanket and bowl of popcorn. You looked at him like he was crazy when you heard his question.

“Ummm, Joaquin Phoenix’s parents.” You scoffed and rolled your eyes. You turned your attention back to the movie as a silence settled in the room. You felt everyone’s eyes on you after a minute and looked around to see everyone staring at you with a dumbfounded expression.

“What?” You asked shyly, shrinking down a little in your seat in discomfort.

“That’s his last name.” Sam stated, chuckling a little under his breath. You realized your mistake and felt your face heat up.

“Oh.” You mumbled, your voice getting drowned out as the rest of the Avengers laughed at your expense.

“Did she really just say that?” Nat looked at the group with a playful smile. Everyone, excluding Peter, nodded as their laughter died down.

“Oh my God.” Steve chuckled. “That’s so stupid.”

There was that word again.

He didn’t mean it maliciously. Steve was the kinda of guy who ushered spiders into a magazine so he could let them outside. And yet, it still stung when he said that word.

Stupid.

You smiled sheepishly and tried to focus on the movie, snuggling closer to Peters side until it ended. You were fully aware that he was the only one who didn’t laugh, and you loved him that.

And maybe you loved him for a few other reasons too.

~

“Alright. Who has money for the subway?” Sam asked the group as he patted his empty pockets. You were on another late night trip to get cookies from a specific shop in Times Square, leaving without Tony’s knowledge. Everyones hands went to their pockets and collectively made a face.

“Not me.” Rhodey shrugged.

“I don’t have any.” Bruce added.

“I don’t even have pockets.” Nat realized.

“I have gum.” Peter proudly produced a silver wrapper from his pocket. “Oh wait, it’s just a wrapper.”

“You’re telling me we’re earth’s mightiest heroes and we’re broke?” Sam shook his head is disdain.

“I gave my last dollar to a guy in the subway for playing music.” Peter defended himself.

“What was he playing?” You asked him as you tiredly leaned against his arm.

“A mandolin.” Peter answered, making your face scrunch up.

“That’s a language.” You laughed at him slightly, feeling empowered by having the upper hand. Everyone looked at you and a few of them snorted.

“Mandarin is a language.” Bruce said gently, not wanting to embarrass you further. “Not mandolin.” 

“What?” You blinked in confusion and looked to Peter for answers.

“A mandolin is an instrument, dummy.” Sam chortled. You smiled tightly as the group laughed at your mistake, looking down to hide your blush.

“Oh. Sorry. My bad.” You laughed shyly as you tucked your hair behind your ear and pretending to read a nearby sign.

“That’s okay.” Peter spoke up in your defense. “They sound really similar. Plus like, French, French Horn. Who knows what’s going on?”

“Yeah.” Bucky said softly. “Or like, bra’s aren’t pointy anymore.”

Bruce nodded like it made perfect sense and Sam just shook his head as he texted.

“What?” You whispered to Peter, not knowing what he meant.

“He’s from the 1920s. He’s still adjusting.” Peter whispered to you out of the corner of his mouth before looking at Bucky. “That’s the spirit. Kind of.”

“FRIDAY is sending a car.” Sam informed the group. “This is never happening again. The cookies aren’t that good.”

“They’re pretty good.” Rhodey shrugged, but wanting the late Nate tradition to end. Sam looked at him for a moment before breaking into a smile.

“Hell yeah they are. Let’s do this again tomorrow.”

~

Bruce found you in the lab the next day with a pin between your teeth and a pencil behind your ear. Papers with drawings of suits were scattered around the table as you measured a piece of black fabric.

“What are you doing?” Bruce wondered as he took a seat across from you. You glanced up at him before marking a dot on the fabric.

“Mr. Stark asked me to help him with the new suits. I’m trying to make a fabric template for Nat’s gloves.” You told him as you smoothed the fabric out.

“Is it hard?” He asked, watching you intently as you worked.

“Not really.” You shrugged and took a step back to examine your work. “Okay. How many holes do we need? 1,2,3,4,5.” You counted your fingers. “Okay. Five holes.”

You sat back down and put five dots where her fingers would be to mark where you had to cut. You heard a slight chuckle from Bruce and looked up at him curiously.

“Did you just count your fingers?” He asked slowly, wanting to make sure he saw what he thought he had. “To know how many fingers Nat has?”

Your face burned when you realized how dumb you looked, in front of a scientific genius no less.

“Oh, Uh, yeah.” You stammered, feeling very insecure with him watching you now. You moved slower than before and second guessed moves you’d already made a hundred times. Bruce sensed your discomfort and got out of his seat, tapping the table twice as he thought.

“Have you ever heard the expression “the lights are on but nobody’s home’?” He asked you and you were grateful he changed the subject.

“Yeah, I think I have.” You smiled, proud of yourself for knowing something.

“It reminds me of you.” Bruce said so politely that you didn’t realize it was an insult at first. He left the lab to find Tony, leaving you feeling embarrassed and a little hurt. Everyone knew Bruce could hurt you ten times worse with his words than the Hulk could with his fists, you’d just never been his target before. You slumped down in your seat and continued making the gloves, your mood significantly dampened from before he came in the room.

~

You walked into the kitchen the next morning, sleepily rubbing your eyes. You pressed a chaste kiss on Peters shoulder as you passed him, also more affectionate to your best friend when you were half asleep. You smiled at Rhodey, who was seated at the bar and skimming through a newspaper.

“Did you eat yet?” You asked him through a yawn as you got out yogurt and fruit for yourself.

“No. I needed my coffee first.” He smiled sleepily at you and held up his mug.

“Oh, you mean your sugar with a spoonful of coffee?” You teased him. “Yeah, it’s good you got that out of the way.”

“I prefer it this way. The sugar wakes me up.” Peter defended his drink as he took a sip.

“That’s what the caffeine is supposed to do, mi amor.” You laughed as you ruffled his bed head ridden hair. He was about to make a comeback when his stomach rumbles loudly.

“Someone’s hungry.” You remarked. “Do you want eggs?”

“No thanks.” Peter shook his head. “I can’t eat eggs alone.”

“Well I’m here. And Rhodey’s right there, so you’re not alone.” You told him. “And I can grab Steve and Bucky. They’re just in the other room.”

Rhodey looked up from his newspaper with raised eyebrows and looked at Peter. Peter set his mug down and made a face at Rhodey that told him not to say anything. You looked between the two of them in confusion as you wondered what was going on.

“I meant alone as in without toast, sweetness.” Peter said gently, not wanting you to feel dumb for misunderstanding. “But I am glad you’re here.”

“Oh.” You faked a smile and shrugged like it was no big deal. Peter had handled the situation with ease and you didn’t feel as embarrassed as you normally would. That is until…

“You know, Y/n, it’s a good thing you’re pretty.” Rhodey nodded before going back to his newspaper. You froze with your spoonful of yogurt midway to your mouth and looked at him. He didn’t actually call you dumb, but it was implied. You looked at Peter to see if he was thinking the same thing, but his face had nothing but kindness on it.

“You are pretty.” He agreed with Rhodey. “But you’re a lot of other things too.”

You cracked a smile and rubbed his back for a moment in appreciation.

“Thanks Peter.” You said softly and went back to your breakfast. Not wanting to worry him, you ignored the way Rhodey’s comment made you feel and tried to push it from your mind. But no hard you tried to focus on other things, you had one thought prodding at the back of your head.

You were dumb.

~

A week went by without anyone poking fun at your intelligence. You had a sneaking suspicion Peter had something to do with the lack of comments, but you said nothing. It was nice to have a break from all the teasing and it made hanging out with the team more enjoyable. You all lingered around the kitchen one day, eating all different kinds of lunch when Tony came in the room.

“Eat up, funky bunch.” He clapped his hands. “We have a mission in Alaska to train for and I need all hands on deck. Cap, do you think you can teach Peter that spinny thingy you do?”

“I can try.” Steve looked at Peter and nodded.

“Great. I’m getting a manicure. I’ll be back around noon.” Tony informed you all.

“Wait, I thought you said all hands on deck.” You tilted your head at him.

“I did. Which I why I have to make sure my hands look the best.” Tony waved flirtatiously, wiggling his fingers around like a teenage girl. He smirked as his action was met with some eye rolls and a few chuckles before leaving the room.

“I can’t believe we’re going to Alaska.” Peter nudged you excitedly and you smiled with glee.

“Is Alaska the same as the North Pole? Or am I thinking of Antarctica?” Sam wondered out loud.

“No. The North Pole is all the way at the top. Alaska is below California. Like by Texas.” You said confidently, proud that you knew information that someone else didn’t. Your pride quickly dissipated when you saw the teams faces twist in amusement.

“Wait a minute.” Steve looked at you like you were joking. You shrugged, letting him know you weren’t. Sam burst out laughing and clapped his hands as the rest of the team began to laugh.

“Absolutely not.” Sam grinned as he wiped a tear from his eye.

“Yes it is.” You insisted. “Look at any US map. It’s on the bottom by Hawaii.”

You were getting angry now. You knew you were right this time and they were still teasing you.

“No.” Bucky shook his head is dismissal. “No.”

“Alaska is below California on every map I’ve ever seen. You’re telling me I’m wrong?” You our your hand on your hip and stared at them.

“100%. I am 100% telling you you’re wrong.” Sam said between his laughter. Peter came to your side and showed you a picture of a map on his phone.

“Alaska is US territory but it’s not connected to the rest of the states. They just put it below California on maps to show it’s a part of the US. Thats not actually where it’s located.” He said quietly. You looked at the map for a few seconds before you realized he was right. And if he was right…

You were wrong.

“Oh.” You smiled apologetically and averted your eyes. “Oops.”

You turned around and pretending to clean up the kitchen to hide your searing blush. Your fingers clenched around your sponge when you heard the teasing laughter from behind you.

“Sometimes I wonder how you made it out of high school.” Steve joked as he threw out the crusts of his sandwich. The comment stung you and you began to scrub the counter faster so you could leave the room sooner. Peter could see your shoulders tense and put a reassuring hand on your back. You gave him a tight lipped smiled before putting your dish in the sink.

“I’m still wondering how she made it out of first grade.” Nat teased you and she poked your side.

“I can’t believe she made it out of the womb in the first place with nobody telling her where to go.” Sam said, making everyone laugh loudly. You abruptly threw a dish in the sink, making everyone go silent. You tuned around slowly and faked a smile.

“Haha. Yeah.” You forced a laugh. “I’ll catch you guys later.”

You swiftly left the room before anyone could catch your tears. You felt stupid for even getting upset over it, but their words hurt. Feeling like you were always the dumbest person in the room was taking a toll on you, especially when you weren’t the only one who felt that way. Peter watched you leave with sympathetic eyes, feeling his own frustration bubble at the sound of the team laughing at you. He thought they had listened the first time he told them to stop making fun of you, but they clearly hadn’t. After seeing the pained look on your face, Peter made a decision.

It was never going to happen again.

~

“Ugh. I’m never gonna get this right.” Peter groaned as he messed up the move Steve was trying to teach him once again.

“You’re getting too much inside your head. Just let it happen naturally.” Steve instructed as he resumed his stance. Peter tried the move again, wiping out and landing on his side with a thud. You watched him out of the corner of your eye as you spared with Nat.

“I can’t.” Peter got up and rubbed his arm. “I can’t do it.”

Steve nodded, like he was accepting Peters defeat. You stopped sparing and looked at Peter.

“Yes you can. Come on, Peter.” You encouraged him. “Everyone told Van Gogh that he couldn’t be an artist because he only had one ear but he did it anyway.”

The room feel silent, as it often did when you spoke, and everyone looked down.

“Oh dear Lord.” Rhodey sighed and hung his head and he snickered. You could see everyone else fighting back laughter or cracking a smile, yet saying nothing.

“What?” You crossed your arms in annoyance, looming to Peter for help.

“He chopped his ear off after becoming an artist.” Peter said kindly. “He wasn’t born without one.”

You opened your mouth to speak, but Tony beat you to it.

“Speaking of ears, do you think of you shone a light in one of Y/n’s ears, it would come out the other ear?” Tony quipped, making everyone laugh. The tips of your ears burned as that feeling of stupidity sunk in again. You undid the Velcro on your boxing gloves and pretended to wipe sweat from your face as you rushed to the bin where the gloves went. You kept your back to the group and pretending to be putting your gloves away when you were really concealing your pained expression.

“Yes.” Nat jeered. “Yes I do.”

Your shoulders slumped with exhaustion as you turned around, making every effort to keep your face neutral. Your face didn’t give away any signs of sadness, but your knuckles turning white from how hard you were gripping the bin gave your true feelings away. Peter noticed this and felt his jaw clench. If you weren’t gonna tell them to stop, he was.

“Leave her alone, guys.” He commanded the crowd before looking at you. “Thanks for the encouragement, Y/n. I’m gonna keep trying.”

“It’s fine.” You nodded curtly. “I’m gonna hit the showers. I’ll see you guys at dinner.”

You walked out of the gym, pausing in place when you heard Sams voice.

“Hit the showers?” He laughed. “We just started.”

“Shhh. Don’t confuse the poor girl any further.” Bruce joked back. You looked back at the gym with your eyebrows knit together, taking a quiet step closer to hear what they were saying about you without you there.

“She’s probably like, ‘whats this magic closet that makes rain?’” Rhodey imitated your voice, making you sound as dense as possible.

“Knock it off guys. It’s not funny.” Peter snapped, but the teasing continued.

“Or like, ‘this shampoo says it adds volume, but I used it and I can’t hear any louder than before’.” Tony mocked you, skipping around a little like a child. Your face contorted in misery as they made fun of you. You knew who they really were, and they were good people. They didn’t intend to hurt your feelings, they were only joking around like they did with everyone. Steve was teased all the time for his old fashioned dialect and no one lets Tony live down the kimono incident. Still, all their insults and mockery cut you like a knife.

“Ahh, I love that girl.” Nat shook her head with a smile. “She’s so dumb.”

“She may be slow, but she’s entertaining as hell.” Sam nodded in agreement.

“I said knock it off.” Peter repeated, getting a reaction this time.

“Aw. Peters mad because we’re teasing his girlfriend.” Nat pouted and pinched Peters cheek. She quickly realized how wholesome she was being and punched Bucky in the face to maintain her lethal assassin persona.

“She’s not my girlfriend.” Peter grumbled. Now that you were out of the room, he was the next target.

“He’s right. Hey, maybe that’s why you guys haven’t gotten together yet.” Rhodey shrugged. “She’s too stupid to realize you’re in love with her.”

That was all you had to hear. You ran towards your with tears running down your face. Thanks to Peters advanced heating, he heard every heavy footstep.

“Okay. Maybe she is a little slow.” Peter shook his head in disdain at the team. “But you guys are idiots.”

~

You were quiet the entire way to Alaska, keeping to yourself and silently looking out the window. Peter attempted to talk to you once or twice, but he could tell you wanted to be alone. The Avengers completed the mission within a few hours with minor damage to the area. Peter focused on his job but found himself looking for you every now and then, being as you usually stayed together during missions. He didn’t see you anywhere and assumed you were doing your own thing on the other side of the field. He heart rest assured when he saw you boarding the jet, still looking reserved and aloof from the rest of the team. You took a seat by the window and rested your chin on your hand, looking out at the bleak landscape in front of you as the jet took off. Peter didn’t engage in small talk with the rest of the team and wistfully stared at you instead, silently willing you to cheer up.

“I think that went pretty well.” Rhodey nodded and the team agreed. “But where were you the whole time, Y/n? Picking daisies?”

Peter held his breath as you slowly turned around. You gave Rhodey a frigid smile and shook your head.

“We came during a blizzard so I used my powers to create a heated force field around the area we were in to prevent frostbite and give you guys and easier time seeing in the snow. We were also at a higher altitude than any of us are used to so I kept the air pressure to sea level standard.” You said simply. “And I assumed there would be smoke from the battle so I rounded up the nearby animals and made a separate for field around them to protect their lungs.”

The room went silent, something you were used to at this point. But instead of everyone falling silent because they were laughing at you, they were impressed.

“Oh.” Rhodey blinked in surprise, not expecting the answer he was given.

“I also picked this flower.” You smiled proudly as you produced a Forget Me Not from your lap. Peter couldn’t keep the grin from breaking through on his face. You were the center of attention once again, but in a good way this time. Everyone was pleasantly surprised with what you had done and it showed.

“I didn’t think about the altitude.” Nat realized.

“I had no idea there was a blizzard.” Steve added, looking dumbfounded.

“Because I kept you from knowing.” You shrugged. “I wanted you guys to focus on the mission.”

“I mean, I knew. I just didn’t tell you guys because I was so distracted by my buffed and polished nails.” Tony twiddled his fingers again, showing off his freshly manicured nails. You all laughed, breaking the tension in the jet.

“Well look at that.” Sam looked impressed. “Y/n knew something we didn’t.”

It was almost a compliment, but it still made you feel insecure. You didn’t want it to be this mind boggling every time you did something useful.

“Thanks, Y/n. That was really smart.” Peter said softly as he patted your knee. You put your hand over his and squeezed it. It was the first time someone called your smart, and it made you feel good.

“It was really smart.” Sam said skeptically. He stared at you for a moment before poking your side.

“What are you doing?” You swatted his hand away.

“Just making sure you’re still in there.” He eyed you suspiciously. Peter could sense the attention was making you uncomfortable and changed the subject.

“Are we almost home?” He asked Tony before peering out the window. The flight was a little over 7 hours on a normal plane, but the Stark jet was much quicker. The flight would only take a few hours, but Peter was not known for being patient.

“Yes, Peter. We are almost back at the tower. You can get your diaper changed and your bottle as soon as we get back.” Tony sassed him, making him shrink in his seat. Your body language had completely changed and your were now sitting straight, facing the group. Peter was glad you were feeling better and didn’t even mind Tony’s comment.

“Guys, let’s be civil. We’re all tired. We all want to get home.” You said calmly. “Let’s just focus on how pretty the sky looks tonight. Isn’t is pretty, Peter?”

He gazed at your profile as you looked out the window at the stars, admiring how pretty you looked from the side.

“Yeah. It’s beautiful.” He conceded without ever taking his eyes off you. You shot him a smile before looking straight ahead at the dashboard.

“Wow, the moon is huge!” You pointed time a large yellow crescent that could be seen through the window.

“That’s literally the reflection of my banana on the windshield.” Tony deadpanned. He may have been right, but it still looked pretty.

“Should we make a wish?” You asked Peter, ignoring Tony’s comment.

“On the banana?” He asked.

“Yes.” You nodded. “On the banana.”

“Why?” Rhodey asked. “It’s not like people wish on the moon.”

“It feels like we should.” You said with confidence.

“Yep. She’s still in there.” Sam chuckled. And just like that, your confidence receded.

“I hate it here.” Bucky sighed heavily and tuned out of the conversation.

“It must be so peaceful being you, Y/n.” Tony remarked.

“Why do you say that?” You wondered.

“Because instead of thinking about your problems and mistrials, you simply don’t think at all.” Tony said suavely. In only a better for minutes, you’d gone from being the hero to the laughing stock of the group. The sly comments and taunting laughter made you feel like you should stop opening your mouth entirely. You faked a smile and turned back towards the window, tuning out the rest of the way home. Peter chewed his lip as he stared at you, feeling useless to helping you out. The team just wouldn’t let up, no matter how many times he told them to stop. Knowing you weren’t in the mood to talk, he scooted closer to you and put a comforting hand on your back. You smiled warmly at him and rested your head on his shoulder, listening to him point out the constellations the whole way home.

~

The next day, you and Peter were sitting in the balcony, working on some new gadgets for Mr. Stark when Peter made a startling discovery.

“Where’s my right web shooter?” Peter stood up in a panic when he realized it was missing. “I left it right here.”

“Maybe a bird carried it off.” You shrugged as you twisted a tiny screw into Peters left web shooter.

“I’m being serious, Y/n.” Peter stated. “Mr. Stark is going to kill me and turn me into a decorative rug if I lost it.”

“I’m being serious too. We live in New York and I see birds around here all the time.” You told him as you continued your work. “And you know the pigeons here are feral. A bird probably stole it to pay for his child support.”

Peter usually entertained your antics and joined in with his own batch of sarcasm, but he wasn’t in the mood. His web shooter was missing and their were actual stakes involved. Without his web shooter, he couldn’t be Spiderman. And without Spider-Man, he couldn’t be an Avenger.

“Can you be serious for once?“ Peter whined, picking up everything on the table to look under it.

“I’m just saying it’s possible, Peter. You never know.” You insisted as you put your screw driver down to help him look. You began looking in the flower pots on the windowsill that you and Peter had planted. Peter stopped his search for a moment, growing angry with you for wasting time. He didn’t know if you were joking around or genuine believed his web shooter was in the flower pots, but it made him frustrated nonetheless. A combination of his lack of sleep and stress over losing the webshooter manifested into a moment of unchecked rage.

“No, it’s not possible.” He snapped. “A bird didn’t steal my web shooter. God, do you have to be so stupid?” 

 The word hung in the air for a moment, settling in to the both of you. Peters eyes immediately softened, feeling instant regret for what he had said. You stopped trifling through the plants and slowly turned around.

“What?” You asked quietly. Peter tightened his lips into a line and tried to justify what he had said.

“I try to defend you but you make it so hard. Can you help me out a little here and not be so…” He trailed off when he realized he had only made it worse. Your face hardened and you looked disappointed in Peter, which killed him. He would have preferred anger or even sadness, but the disappointment killed him.

“So what?” You shrugged. “Finish your sentence Peter.”

“I didn’t mean that.”

“No, really, go ahead.” You stated coldly. “You got this far. So what, Peter?”

He looked at you for a moment, getting that feeling of wishing you could turn back time just a few seconds to fix a mistake.

“So dumb all the time.” He finished his sentence with an unsteady voice. Your face scrunched up in a pained expression as you sucked in and let out a shaky breath.

“You were the only one who never called me that.” You whimpered before moving past him and going inside. Peter watched you through the open balcony doors as you disappeared into the hallway with a heavy heart. His mouth was open to apologize, but you were long gone. He’d seen you being ridiculed so many times already, and now he was the one doing it. All that talk about it never happening again, only for him to be the reason it happened. Peter couldn’t live with himself for another minute without you knowing how sorry he was. He took a step towards the doorway until he heard a pigeon land on the table. He watched it curiously for a moment as it pecked at the screwdriver you had been using before picking it up with its beak. It flew over to the edge and began to walk along the railing, still keeping the screwdriver in his mouth. Peter followed the pigeon, walking all the way down the balcony to find a large nest in the corner. He watched as it dropped the screwdriver into its nest, right next to his web shooter.

“Holy shit. A bird stole my web shooter.” Peter said in disbelief. Peter watched as baby pigeons poked out from inside the web shooter to greet the other pigeon.

“Holy shit. A bird stole my web shooter for his kids.” Peters eyes widened even more than they already were. Realized struck him and his shoulders slumped.

“She was right.” He mumbled, angry at himself more than ever. “I yelled at her and she was right.”

Peter wasted no time in rescuing his web shooter from the birds, offering them a nice biodegradable coffee cup in its place, and ran to the kitchen to make you a peace offering. He knocked softly on your door and didn’t wait for an answer before going in.

“I made you this cup of tea as an apology.” Peter stiffly held out a mug with an awkward smile on his face. You looked at Peter from your bed, eyes puffy like you had been crying. You stared at each other for a long time, you with a death glare and Peter with his awkward smile. Neither of you said a word as Peter continued to hold out the mug. After two full minute of silence, a bead of sweat ran down Peters face as he looked around nervously, never breaking his smile. You let out an angry sigh and decided to throw him a bone, crossing the room to accept his mug. You looked into the cup for a moment before looking back at Peter.

“This is empty.” You deadpanned.

“I don’t know how to make tea.” Peter whispered, never breaking eye contact.

“I’ve seen you make it.” You snapped.

“I forgot how to do it.” Peters eyes shifted nervously to the side.

“Bucky was in the kitchen, wasn’t he?”

“I know he hates me.” Peter talked over you as you groaned. “I know he does.”

“Just go away.” You tried to close the door but he kept it open.

“No.” Peter said firmly. “I came in here to apologize.”

“You see this?” You held up the mug for a Peter to see. “It’s my cup of care. And look at that” ,you dumped the cup over, “it’s empty.”

Peter stared at your demonstration with raised eyebrows, surprised that you were still able to be sarcastic when he hurt you. Peter took the mug from your hands and set it on the ground before slowly looking up at your face.

“You’re not stupid.” He said softly with all the sincerity his heart could give. You scoffed and folded your arms, looking to the side when you felt tears sting your eyes.

“Yes I am.” You said like you fully believed it, which was Peters worse fear. “Everyone says so. Even you.”

It hit Peter like a sheet of glass when you looked at him like that.

Like he was someone you didn’t want around.

“I didn’t mean to say that.” Peter apologized. “That is not how I feel. At all.”

“Don’t act like you’ve never thought about saying that before.” You laughed sadly. “Everyone on the team calls me dumb. It was only a matter of time before you did it too.”

“I didn’t mean it.” Peter repeated. “I don’t think you’re stupid.”

“Bullshit.” You snapped. “You’re so full of bullshit.”

“I’m not full of bullshit.” He whined like a child and gave you puppy dog eyes. “I’m full of regret.”

You chewed the inside of your cheek as he gave you his best pout, willing you to forgive him. Finally, you caved and cracked a smile.

“I hate you.” You stamped your foot and hung your head, frustrated with yourself for not being able to stay mad at him. Peter opened his arms and you walked into them, arms still folded angrily. You bumped your forehead against his shoulder before moving to rest your chin on it as he wrapped his arms around you. Peter nestled against your hair and sighed, happy that you had forgiven him but still saddened that he had hurt you in the first place. He could see the pile of used tissues on your bed and it killed him to know he made you cry.

“I didn’t mean to call you that. I really didn’t.” He said softly. “I’m the one who’s been trying to stop people from saying that.”

“But they still do it.” You sniffled. “Everyday I get called dumb or stupid or scalene.”

“I think it’s obtuse, not scalene.” Peter reluctantly corrected you. You pulled away and little and let Peter wipe the tears from your face.

“Maybe they’re right.” You shrugged and looked Peter in the eyes. “Maybe I am dumb.”

Peter kept your face between his hands, staring at you for a moment before sighing.

“I once sneezed so many times in a row that I peed my pants.” Peter deadpanned. “I was 17.”

“What?” You chuckled as you wiped your nose.

“I saw Bucky try to take a piece of toast out of the toaster with his metal arm and electrocute himself.” He continued. “And I constantly see Tony bumping into glass doors.”

“I don’t understand.” You squinted your eyes, but sure what point he was trying to make.

“Steve still picks up the phone and asks for the operator. Nat leaves her curling iron plugged in all the time. I do not think Sam knows the address of where we live and I’m pretty sure Rhodey can’t do laundry. He gets all his stuff dry cleaned, even his socks.”

“Why are you telling me all of this?” You asked.

“Because were all dumb.” Peter concluded. “We all do and say dumb things. You don’t know where Alaska is and no one in this tower can read analog clocks. If we’re all dumb, then maybe none of us are dumb. Or we all are. Who cares?” Peter shrugged, making you laugh. “And you were right. A bird did carry off my web shooter. So no, you’re no dumb. Or stupid. Or obtuse. You’re, uh, you- you…” Peter looked down at he fumbled over his words.

“I’m what?” You raised an eyebrow. You could finish his sentence last time, but this time you were lost.

“You’re…” Peter tampered off again, staring at your confused expression for a moment before pulling you into a kiss. Your hands clenched into a fist and slowly uncurled as you relaxed into the kiss. Peter pulled away too soon and let his eyes flutter open. They met yours and you shared a moment of hesitation, not knowing what happened rest next.

“I’m gonna be honest lovey, I didn’t really have an ending to that sentence.” Peter chris joes softly, his breath fanning your face. “That was mainly improv.”

“You’re pretty good at improv, Parker.” You cracked a smile and wrapped your arms around his neck.

“I did a little bit of theater in high school.” He shrugged smugly, making you giggle.

“Mmm. I severely don’t want to hear about that.” You teased before kissing him again.

“Oh, I think you do.” Peter remarked. “Because I once went to the bathroom during intermission with my mic still on and the entire audience heard me peeing.”

“Oh my God.” You laughed. “You’re so stupid.”

Tag List 🏷

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[thebrotherssalvatore321]

Keeping Secrets/Phoenix Rising Ch. 48 Deleted Scene

Pairing: Klaus x Katie(oc). Setting: Klaus’s mansion in Mystic Falls. Summary for those that have no interest in reading K.S./Phoenix Rising: Katie, six months pregnant with Klaus’s child, and Klaus visit Mystic Falls so Katie can see her friends and Klaus can “gloat over a corpse to be” aka, Katherine. This is their last day there before returning to New Orleans.

Katie sat on the bar in the kitchen of the mansion, Klaus standing between her knees, his hands slipping up her pajama top as they kissed. When it broke she dipped her finger into the sifter of powdered sugar she had intended on dusting over the pancakes she had been cooking before Klaus interrupted, and booped him on the tip of his nose with it then smiled. “I love you.”

“That's how you show you love me?” he asked with a laugh and she hummed a positive answer as she wiped the rest of it on his cheek. “Then allow me to show you how much I love you.” as he spoke he picked up the sifter, took a step back and slung it at her covering her from shoulder to hip with a dusting of powered sugar kick starting a fight that in seconds had them laughing and coated from head to toe in sticky white dust.

She yelped and slipped backwards a bit on the counter when he attacked her neck with kisses tasting her sweetened skin. Something cold and wet touched her hand making her look over her shoulder to see that they had knocked over the bowl of pancake batter. “Aww, I wasn't done with that.” she complained as her stomach audibly growled and Klaus pulled away from her neck to see the spilled batter.

“Then we will make some more.” He told her as he helped her down off the bar and sat the bowl back up.

“We?” Katie asked at the implication that he would be helping her cook.

“Believe it or not I didn't always have minions to wait on me hand and foot.” He told her with a smirk. “I do know how to make pancakes.” After cleaning up the spilled batter, leaving the sugar mess for said minions to clean up, Katie grabbed one of the cold chocolate chip pancakes she'd made and took a bite, trying chocolate for the first time in years. “Did you just eat chocolate?” Klaus asked with a look at the brown dotted pancake in her hand as he mixed up more batter and she nodded. “And the verdict is…”

“I like it.” Katie answered a little surprised.

“I'm guessing you had another craving.” He observed with a half smile.

“Chocolate chip pancakes specifically.” she answered as she moved to sit on the counter by the stove and watched him pour batter into the skillet then add some chocolate chips. “I figured I'd splurge a little since it's the last day of our vacation.”

“I'm sure our little princess doesn't mind a treat every now and then.” He said with a look at her across his shoulder. She just smiled and shook her head as she slipped down off the bar, got a glass of milk then sat down at the island watching Klaus's backside as he cooked. He was working on the last pancake when he said, “Stop it.”

“Stop what?” she asked innocently. “I'm not doing anything.” She pulled her phone out of her pocket and quietly snapped a picture of him.

“I heard that.” he commented. “And you're going to delete it.”

“I'll delete it when you delete the video of me singing karaoke.” She commented and when he turned around with a smile she snapped another picture. He whooshed around the island and tried to grab her phone but she hid it behind her back with a laugh. He wrapped his arms around her, pretending to grab for the phone and started kissing her neck that still had sugar on it. They were about to get lost in one another again when her stomach growled again. He pulled away and pushed the plate of pancakes at her then grabbed her glass of milk and refilled it. “So you haven't been bored out of your mind this week?” she asked with a look up from her plate.

“Not at all.” He answered. “However, if Damon calls me whipped one more time I might decide to remove his head from his neck.” Katie just laughed and shook her head. “You think I'm kidding?”

“No, I know you're serious, but if you could restrain from killing him for just a few more hours it would be highly appreciated.” She finished with a hopeful smile.

“He's lucky I love you.” he told her with a half smile that showed off his dimples.

“I’m lucky you love me.” she told him then took a bite of the pancakes that were better than the ones she cooked.

“While we are on the topic of Damon, where is he on your list of five?” He asked meaning the five men she had slept with in her short, in comparison to his, lifetime.

“Why do you always have to prove you’re the alpha male?” Katie asked nonchalantly then took a sip of her milk.

“I don’t have to prove anything, Little Phoenix, I am the alpha male.” He answered with a confident smirk.

“Really?” she asked as she took the last bite of her pancakes and pushed the plate away. He hummed a positive answer. “If you’re so sure you’re at the top,” she hopped down off the barstool, “why have me rank them at all?”

“Just fact checking.” He shrugged as she walked over and slid her hands up his thin long sleeved shirt covered chest to hold the sides of his neck.

“Fact checking huh?” she asked as he grabbed her hips then nodded. “Well, before you can fact check,” she jumped and wrapped her legs around his hips, he held her up with his hands on her butt, “I think I might need to do a little more research.” She grabbed his chin and moved it to the side giving her better access to his neck that she licked, collecting the powdered sugar that had melted a little from his warm skin. “Besides, why should we let perfectly good sugar go to waste?” she asked then bit his neck making him hum in pleasure.

“You…” she pulled away from his neck to look him in the eyes that were already clouded with lust, “are really good at avoiding giving me the answers that I seek.” Seeing his eyes slip down to the sugar on her chest she tilted her head back letting him place a kiss to the hallow of her neck, tasting her sweetened skin with a swirling tongue that sent tingles through her and pulled a sigh from her parted lips. After he’d kissed away all of the visible sugar he pulled back and she pulled her shirt over her head tossing it the kitchen floor as he sat her on the bar.

His shirt was tossed to the floor before she started kissing his chest. When she pulled back he gave her a half smile as he turned his eyes to the sifter that he dipped his middle finger in then held it up in front of her face. She bit her bottom lip then let it slip between her teeth as she grabbed his hand and slipped the sweetened digit into her mouth and closed her eyes, swirling her tongue around it as she slipped it out. The action pulled a low growl from his lips that made her eyes shoot open to see his almost glowing amber eyes.

“Bloody hell.” She sighed as she let go of his hand and braced herself with her hands on the bar behind her. He laughed a deep rumbling laugh at her picking up his family’s go to swear words as he placed his hand on her neck then slipped it down her chest. He could tell by her shallow breaths that if she were still a vampire her true face would be on display. When he kneaded her breasts in his hands then lightly pinched her nipples it caused a whimper to leave her lips and her legs to tighten around him. “Klaus, please.”

He looked her in the eyes as he grabbed her wrists, wrapped her arms around his neck then slipped his hands up her back, his palms pressed into her shoulder blades. “Ask me in your native tongue.” He demanded with a whisper into her ear then started nibbling on her neck.

“Le do thoil, déan grá dom. Impigh mé ort.” She pleaded in a breathy tone before he whooshed them up to her room, losing the rest of their clothes along the way. After lying her on the bed he kissed her neck as he took her hands from his and pinned them to the bed. Another breathy whimper left her lips as he sank into her tightness. “Tá tú chomh ollmhór.” His throaty chuckle made her wonder if he spoke Irish too, but when he started rocking into her and his pleasured sighs and moans hit her ears, the ability to form words left her.

When he slid his hand from hers to hold her hips, she slipped one up his chest then down his arm to hold his bicep while the other pressed into his back. Eventually she gave his shoulder a light push letting him know what she wanted. So he rolled them over letting her be on top. As she sat up, rocking against him, she slipped her hands down his lean torso, admiring him before she looked into his blue eyes and sighed "Gan locht" then let her head fall back as she braced herself with her hands on his upper thighs behind her.

A deep growl left him as he wrapped his arms around her waist and sat up. Within minutes they were both at their peaks and both held on to the bliss as long as possible, but eventually it became too much and they tumbled into pure ecstasy together.

Katie lay on her back staring up at the ceiling while catching her breath. “You speak Irish, don’t you?” she asked then turned onto her side to look at Klaus.

He gave her a cocky smirk. “I’m huge huh?”

“Like you didn’t already know.” She told him with an eye roll.

“I liked the ‘I beg of you’ line.” he told her as he slipped his fingertips over her shoulder and down her arm, just light enough to tickle her.

“Yeah, well I assumed by the heart stopping growl and the appearance of your breathtaking hybrid eyes that it was the finger sucking you liked.” She grabbed his hand and pressed their palms together.

“Oh I always love it when you show how much you like my hands. It was, after all, how you first seduced me.” He told her with a sparkle in his eyes and she laughed with a shake of her head. “So, now that you have you’re research…” he prompted.

“You know if I answer your question I’m eventually going to have to compare you to Elijah, right?” she asked and he hummed a positive answer. “And you know he had an unfair advantage over you with the fact that we blood shared and we were linked when we did it.”

“Yes, but at one time you were also human and not linked to him.” He pointed out.

“Fine. Damon is third.” She answered.

“So Damon is in third place, Tyler in forth, then Ronan in fifth?” he asked and she nodded. “So how long are you going to leave me hanging on who’s at the top?”

“I don’t know…” Katie sing songed. “I don’t fully remember what it was like to be with Elijah as an unlinked human. Maybe I should do more research with him bef-”

“Absolutely not.” He cut her off and she started laughing making him realize she was messing with him. He rolled onto his side and pulled her leg up over his hips. “You have a mean streak in you, Little Phoenix.”

She pushed his shoulder for him to lay on his back and moved to straddle him. "When I tell you, tá tú gan locht, I don't just mean your physically perfect.” She turned her eyes down to watch her fingertips ghost over his skin. “I don’t want to demean what Elijah and I had, because it was real and he was exactly what I needed at that time in my existence. It was simple and sweet and, yes there was a spark between us. But you and I are so much more.” She looked back up into his eyes. “You make me feel like I’m worthy of your love, like I’ve done more than stand by your side and look pretty to earn the title of your queen even though I’m not sure I have.”

“You have.” He assured her as he held her a little tighter. “By inspiring me to be a man worthy of your love and challenging me in ways I can’t put into words. You are the only person to ever look at me and see more than a broken, bastard, abomination. You’re patient with me, you don’t judge me when I make mistakes and you don’t make excuses for me. You earn it just by being who you are.”

[jemej3m]

objection

because im now a law/crim student, this is all im gonna fuckin write about 

anyway here’s andrew as neil’s defence attorney (totally inspired by @aymmidumps‘ amazing andrew here)

gruesome crime descriptions but neil’s not a butcher in this one

*

“Wesninki’s applying for an appeal,” was all Andrew heard from the minute he’d stepped into the office. It was all anyone could - and would - talk about. 

Reasonably so, Andrew presumed. Nathaniel Wesninski had been locked up since his nineteenth birthday, when he slit his father’s throat. Andrew reckons he should’ve never been charged with murder, especially when considering his father was the Butcher of Baltimore, but Andrew had been just an undergraduate student at the time. There was nothing he could’ve done. 

Now, though. 

Now Andrew was just over thirty and steadily climbing the ranks. He hadn’t intended on becoming a defense attorney, but it just so happened that he was damn good at keep kids out of jail. The juvenile detention system was just a cog in the wheel of dysfunction, after all: he knew that first hand. 

Survivors of violent assault who had killed their attackers were also common clients of Andrew’s. Those with mental illnesses and drug addictions found their way into his stack of case files, too. He’d always thought he’d be on the right side of the law, throwing shitty people in jail and fixing the system one day at a time. 

This was alright too, he supposed. 

“Hey, Minyard,” Boyd leaned against the door-frame of Andrew’s office. He had his own private space, unlike the others, who often shared offices with two or three of their colleagues. Andrew was just lucky. Or favoured. 

“Let me guess,” Andrew said, without looking up from his file on a thirteen-year-old being charged with battery and theft. “Dan’s pissy because I didn’t turn up to dinner on Friday, there’s free coffee in the break room, Wesninski’s applying for appeal and Wymack wants me?” 

“Uh,” Matt squinted. “Yes? How the hell did you guess?” 

Andrew gave Matt a bored look. “You talk too loud. The walls are thin, you know.” 

The man huffed, conflicted between being impressed and disgruntled at Andrew’s usual bitchiness. He simply threw his hands up and vanished from Andrew’s doorway, most likely to groan to his wife about how incorrigible Andrew seemed to be. 

He threw his file onto his desk, locked his office door behind him and swung past the break room to dump three packets of sugar into a free latte. By the time he arrived at Wymack’s door, the man was already stood up, most definitely unimpressed by Andrew’s tardiness. And his lack of tie. 

He did wear a tie to court. Most of the time. 

“Nice of you to finally show up,” the old man grunted, tugging on the cuffs of his casual blazer. Andrew fucking hated blazers. They were always too tight around his shoulders. “I suppose you already know what this is all about?” 

“Seeing as Allison, Robin and Renee have all tried to talk my ear off about it, yes. I’m aware Wesninski is trying for appeal.” 

Wymack wasn’t impressed. “What you don’t know is that he’s come to us to represent him.” 

Andrew paused. Now that was interesting. Nathaniel Wesninski was halfway between New York and Baltimore. Why the fuck would he recruit from seedy South Carolina? There was no viable reason, unless - 

“Kevin,” he deduced. “How do they know each other?”

“Moriyamas and Wesninskis ran in the same circles, before it all got shut down.” Wymack arched a brow. “Wesninski figures that Kevin is the only person he can trust.” 

“Kevin won’t do it,” Andrew shook his head. “He doesn’t touch anything Moriyama related with a ten-foot pole.”

“Wesninski knows that. Which is why he’s asked for you: Kevin passed him on.” 

Andrew closed his eyes, very, very briefly, as he cocked his head at his boss. “You want me to get the most notorious gangster’s son out of jail.” 

“At least have him commuted to manslaughter,” Wymack suggested. 

At least, Andrew thought. He remembered looking over the Wesninski case in his third year. Nathaniel Wesninski had laughed, incredulous, as the FBI lead him away in handcuffs, nearly losing his fingers in an effort to cling onto the knife that he’d used to end Nathan Wesninski’s life. 

That wasn’t manslaughter. That was homicide of the first degree, plastered over the front page of every newspaper the next day. 

"You’ll owe me,” Andrew warned. 

“I’ll cover your bar tab at the Foxhole for the rest of the year,” Wymack conceded. 

Andrew huffed. “It’s February.” 

Wymack arched an eyebrow. 

Andrew had a feeling he’d regret this. He hooked his thumbs in the pockets of his slacks and rocked back on his heels, looking to the ceiling. “Fine.”

“It was an order, not a request,” Wymack grunted. “Get out of my office and get a visitation permit.” 

Andrew, already fed up with a case he’d only just been assigned, turned on his heel and dutifully marched off. 

*

The drive was nine and a half hours. Andrew could’ve made it a single-day round trip on a plane, but he refused to fly somewhere he could drive instead. He booked a half-hour slot with Wesninski on Saturday afternoon: if he found the man interesting enough, he’d bribe a guard to let him back in Sunday morning. Then he’d drive home, midday Sunday. 

At least Wymack was letting him stay in a nice hotel in Philadelphia. It almost made the journey worth it, but he wouldn’t jump the gun. It would only be a worthwhile trip if he figured that Wesninski wasn’t hopeless. The man was just 29. It was nearly 10 years since he’d been locked up. Andrew’s chances were - practically slim to none. 

Half-way through the drive Nicky called. 

“Heard you’re going to see Wesninski,” he said, the phone somewhat masking Nicky’s obvious curiosity.

Andrew sighed. “Aaron needs to shut his mouth.” 

“Aaron comes to family dinners,” Nicky objected. “He has every right to tell me whatever he wants. Speaking of - if I promise you a whole loaf of garlic bread, will you come to the next one?” 

Andrew huffed. “I’m busy.” 

“Yeah, yeah, you hate socialising, you’ll tolerate dealing with Aaron at work but nowhere else, blah blah. What about me? Your dear, old cousin?” 

“Fine,” Andrew grunted. “Now, leave me alone.” 

“Yes!” Nicky crowed, but whatever response he had after that was cut off. Andrew dropped his phone back in the passenger seat, turning the radio back up and relaxing into his chair. 

It was a further five hours after that disturbance till his arrival at SCI Phoenix, Philadelphia. Andrew would always despise how depressing prison complexes looked. Chain link fences and brick boxes, splayed out like a progression of architectural failures. The parking lot was enormous and empty. Andrew parked far enough away that his nice car wasn’t in direct sight from the prison’s visiting entrance, fixing up his suit and tie and slinging the strap of his briefcase over his shoulder. 

The guard by the door snapped his fingers for identification. Andrew flicked his license towards him, gaze deadened by boredom. The guard almost winced when Andrew sighed, looking to the clock. Once he was finally granted access, he took the lanyard and shoved his way through the doors. 

Visitation was close to shutting up when Andrew arrived, miserable loved ones reaching for final hugs and brief kisses. Andrew was lead by the duty guard to a private room, waiting by the barred door. 

Wesninski was already waiting for him inside. His hands were cuffed to the table, fiddling with a blunt key. His red curls were overgrown and messy, the grey jumpsuit hanging off his small frame. 

When the door clanged shut, Wesninski looked up. His eyes were the most spectacular blue Andrew had ever seen, his face marred by horrific scars and the stitches used to hold him together. He looked ridiculously unimpressed. Andrew, meanwhile, smothered any flickers of emotion as intrigue sparked in his chest. 

Damn, he thought.

“Unlock him,” Andrew said, to the guard. 

The guard arched an eyebrow. “You sure?” 

“Obviously,” Andrew said, rolling his eyes. He didn’t have knives on his person - they’d set off the metal detector - but he was never vulnerable. He made a promise that he’d never be taken advantage of again. 

Wesninski flexed his wrists when the guard unlocked them, giving Andrew a thinly veiled look of appraisal. The guard immediately skittered off to stand outside the door, holding the interrogation room’s keys in tightly clenched fists. 

“So,” Wesninski said, holding out a hand. “You’re the famous Andrew Minyard.” 

"And you are the infamous Nathaniel Wesninski,” Andrew returned, ignoring the warmth of his skin as they shook hands. He sat down: the shitty metal chair creaked. “We both seem to have names and reputations that precede us.” 

Nathaniel’s eye twitched slightly. “I prefer Neil.”

Andrew leant back in his chair, leg crossed at the ankle. “You seriously think they’re going to let you out?” 

“Well,” Neil admitted. “Probably not. But I figured I’d give it a shot. It should be safer out there now.”

“You’ve been hiding in here? Who from, your father’s ghost?” 

Neil was not impressed. “His bosses, actually. But since Kengo’s second son was shot between the eyes and his first son locked up for it, I should be fine.”

“Riko and Ichirou,” Andrew deduced. “Kevin’s mentioned them once or twice.”

Neil just glared. “I can’t believe that coward won’t help me.” 

Andrew narrowed his eyes. “He owes you, does he? What for? Helping him escape the Moriyamas? Wait - that was me. What about coping with his trauma and reestablishing his career? Nevermind - that was me, too. Goodness, you haven’t been around much, have you? Right, right,” Andrew leaned over the table, resting his chin on his laced fingers. “You’ve been in jail for ten years.”

“You are not funny,” Neil snapped, gripping onto his blunt key.

“I don’t know if it’s worth my time, Mr Wesninski,” Neil flinched again. “Convince me.” 

“Other than it’s what is just?” Andrew arched an eyebrow. Neil huffed. “Fine. I’ll pay you. Double your normal fee.” 

“Prison pays well, does it?” 

“Blood money,” Neil had the audacity to wink. Dammit, Andrew thought again. “I already know you’re quite happy to spend dirty cash, Minyard. A G6, right? Bit of an upgrade from your mother’s car.” 

He should not know that. “You’re not exactly winning me over, here.” 

Neil leaned back in his chair, fiddling with the stupid little key. He must have spent the last decade tracing it down to its current blunt status. Andrew wondered what it used to unlock. 

Okay - he was intrigued by Neil. And yes, his narrative fit Andrew’s bill. And some spare cash wouldn’t hurt: he could sent Nicky and Erik over to Christmas for the summer. 

“What’s something you’ve never given anyone?” Andrew inquired. 

Neil looked up from under his ruby-tinted lashes. “What?” 

“I want something that no one else has.” Andrew leaned further forward, leaning in close. “What do you have to offer me, Wesninski?”

For a moment, Neil simply stared. His fingers stilled. He definitely had a few tattoos and scars, from what Andrew could glean at the little slice of a sharp collarbone, exposed by the jumpsuit. 

It was silent - almost electric. Andrew watched as something behind Neil’s eyes crumbled, the exhaustion settling in, the loneliness of a man who had known nothing but pain and suffering and isolation. 

“Everyone knows Nathaniel Wesninski,” Neil said. “No one knows Neil.” 

Andrew felt the remnants of a smirk tug at the corner of his lips. 

“I’ll tell you the truth,” Neil offered, glaring at the table like it offended him. “I’ve never told the truth before.” 

Andrew stood up, offering his hand. Neil followed suit, grip hesitant where he clasped Andrew’s hand.

“I’ll get you out of here,” Andrew said. 

“You’ll try,” Neil corrected him. 

“Here’s something you should know about me, Neil,” Andrew tugged on his suit jacket, fixing his cuffs. “I never fail a promise.” 

Andrew felt Neil’s gaze, watching him as he left. As Andrew filtered past the guard, he snuck a two hundred into the guard’s pocket. 

“Nine o’clock, tomorrow morning,” he said. “Bring him here.” 

The guard, moon-eyed, just nodded. 

Andrew glanced over his shoulder for one last assessment of his newest client. Neil was leant against the table they had spoken at, arms crossed as he glared in Andrew’s direction. His hair flopped forward, masking one eye. Like this, with his tattooed forearms and shoulders and hell-fire hair, he looked dangerous. 

In his right hand, he played with his key. 

Andrew spun on his heel and left. He knew he’d made the right decision. 

Neil Wesninski would get out of jail, if it was the last thing Andrew did. 

*

[horrorslashergirl]

Chromeskull x Cop!Reader x The Collector

A dark themed erotic novel for the twisted minds

Resume: When there’s a third party, things might get a little difficult. Jealousy is an ugly characteristic and it might get you into a whole lot of trouble. 

Chapter 1: Nightshift Turn Out

Chapter 2: Twisted Tongue

Chapter 3: Rising from fire like the Phoenix

Chapter 4: Video Shadows

Chapter 5: New beginning and Past memories

Chapter 6: Lovers Reunion

Chapter 7: Sweet Blackmail

Chapter 8: False Freedom

Chapter 9: Ugly Jealousy (You are here)

Chapter 10: Sinful Ecstasy

You woke up with a headache, the sleep you had wasn't enough and it didn't help that you had to get your ass out of bed to prepare yourself for work. You took a quick shower, trying to wash the tiredness from your face, then dressed. Breakfast was out of the discussion, you weren't hungry, but you filled your dog's bowl with food before exiting and going to work, acting like everything was fine. You didn't want to have your co-workers ask you millions of questions if you were alright.

Everything went fine, some office paperwork, today you had no patrolling so you took all your time into the office, the AC blowing behind you, a sigh leaving your lips as your exhausted eyes took a glance at the clock on the wall; lunchtime. Maybe coffee and something sweet would ease your tension. Closing your laptop, you told your partner you will take some time off to get food, which he replied with a simple nod, his eyes too pulled into the stacks of papers and the computer.

Walking down the hallways, you exited the police station and were ready to go across the street to get yourself the nutriments for today, only to stop dead into your tracks, when your eyes meet the tall form of Jesse, leaning against the side of a Chrysler, 300c, all black with his hands into the pockets of his slacks, a smirk on his scarred face.

He wouldn't do something in public, in front of so many people and especially coworkers of yours that were outside smoking. You gulped down and got the courage to walk towards him, trying not to look scared, mostly so as not to raise unwanted questions and suspicions.

"I haven't told anyone anything, not a soul." you firstly said, trying not to stumble over your words. He pulled out his phone from his pocket, typing a message.

'I know, princess. We have our eyes on you all the time.'

Well, that calmed you down very much, but still, that didn't answer your question about why he was here.

'I thought you might be hungry since it's lunchtime. I brought you something.'

You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion as he opened the passager seat and pulled out a box, which contained your favorite food, along with a cup of coffee, just how you liked it, a little bitter with some milk, and what you loved most, strawberry cake.

"Why?" you hesitated, taking the box anyway since your stomach was making the thinking for you now.

'Why not? Isn't this what a lover is supposed to do to his most valuable person in life?'

That message made you all the more confused, not to mention a little angry. He wasn't your lover or boyfriend or any synonyms specified.

"You're not my lover. You kidnapped me, hurt me, and not to mention blackmailed me." you explained, trying to sound assertive, but at the same time trying not to draw attention to the both of you. You knew how your coworkers liked to gossip and prey on any juicy stories.

'Details, doll.' he waved off as it was nothing as if the words you said were just a joke to him, but then he narrowed his brown eye, his hand pulling you flush against his chest, a gasp leaving your lips. On one hand, he still had his phone, typing away with precision.

'Kiss me.'

That command, because request sure as hell wasn't, made your eyes widen and shivers to run down your spine, a bad feeling coming into your chest.

"W-What?" Kiss him in public? In front of your coworkers that was a few feet away from the two of you, clearly observing the whole scenario.

'I'm not a shy one, doll. Let them all see that you're taken, not to mention...Isn't it rude not to thank me for this treat?'

The bastard was playing with you now, and you knew that if you denied his words the outcome wouldn't be pretty; you constantly thought of your brother and how you need to protect him, despite you being his little sister.

"If I kiss you, will you leave?" you asked in a hushed voice, your face inches from his own, that smirked at your question, nodding slowly.

Taking a deep breath you leaned on your toes, so you could reach him and pressed your lips shyly against his rough ones, the kiss all innocent, until his free hand moved from your waist to the back of your neck, his fingers stroking the skin there, his tongue pocking out to brush against your lips.

You opened your eyes and looked into his half-lidded brown one, his gaze speaking 'Open up or else', so you slowly parted your lips, allowing him entry and he sure did take advantage of it, deepening the kiss and rubbing his tongue over yours, a slight moan vibrating from you, then as it started, it ended, leaving you a shocked and breathless mess.

Jesse knew you enjoyed it more than you let it know, the smug look he gave you, speaking much more.

'Thanks, doll. You're a peach, also I will pick you up after work and we are going to my place for a drink or two.'

That was his last message before he went inside the car, driving off and leaving you all speechless. Well, at last, you got free lunch, so you headed back inside the police station, not before taking a glance at your coworkers outside who had confused, shocked, and amused faces.

Great, you will be the primary discussion for one week from the looks of it. Walking down the hallways, you got inside your office, your partner still working while one of the female officers was there chatting with him. Her eyes looked up and when she saw you she smirked knowingly.

"What's with that smirk?" you asked, setting down the box with the food, getting ready to eat.

"How come you never told anyone you had a boyfriend? And a rich as fuck one." she said, with a raised eyebrow. Great, she was one of these gossip sharks who would love to sink their teeth into you for more spicy details.

"I don't think that is any business for work." you replied, trying not to give any information to this predator.

"I always thought you were asexual, but my....Girl, you really know how to pick em." she said, sitting down on your partner's desk, making him look up at her with an acidic look. Well, at last, you weren't the only one who wanted to stab her in the mouth.

"I mean...He is one tall fella...I bet his dick is something to be afraid of." she continued, her words made your coworker choke on his coffee, obviously disgusted by her dirty comments.

"How rich is he? Judging by his car and the way he dresses....I bet he rubs his money on your pussy, girl." she joked, laughing, only to stop when you banged your fist on your desk.

"Get the fuck out!" you screamed, a vicious glare shot directly in her direction. She made a quick dash for the door, tripping over her high heels on her way out. Your partner chuckled at your outburst.

"Well, that was quite amusing on your part. Never saw you angry before." he commented nonchalantly.

"All I want is to be left alone and do my work. I hate gossips." you groaned out, starting to eat your lunch, the delightful taste of it calming your nerves down.

"Good luck with that. This place stinks of predators ready to devour any information you have on yourself. I thought you knew this after so many months."

"Well, I wasn't exactly into the spotlight, until now." you grumbled, chewing on your food.

"Get used to it."

The rest of the day at work was full of tension; each time someone entered your office, he or she commented something about your 'lover', some comments were innocent some made your skin crawl.

You stretched your arms above your head as you saw that it was ending of the program; you couldn't wait to get home and have a bubble bath...maybe a movie? Of course, the pleasant dream was destroyed, when you remembered that Jesse had already plans for you.

As you exited the police station, you weren't that much surprised that the luxurious black car was waiting for you. Jesse wasn't joking and it made you start to walk towards it when he honked, signaling for you to hurry up.  You got inside the car, into the passager seat, next to Jesse, but not even sparing him a glance.

'Not gonna give daddy a kiss?' the robotic voice spoke up, making you blush and look slowly at him, reluctant as you saw the serious look he sported. Gulping down, you gave his scarred cheek a quick kiss, making the man smirk and laugh silently.

He let that go, and starting driving to his place, the drive there was as silent as ever, not even him giving you looks or anything, and that only amplified the tension.

After driving for one hour or so, you two got to his place, parking his car and leading you inside. All the flashbacks from what happened inside came to you, making you halt your steps a little, only for Jesse to push lightly on your lower back.

Entering, you didn't even have the time to speak, as Jesse pushed you against a wall, his arms caging you against his body, his nose buried into the crook of your neck, taking deep inhales of breath.

"W-What are you doing?" you shuttered, trying to push a little against his chest. He moved a little from you, taking his phone out so he could communicate with you.

'How was work?'

You narrowed your eyes at his question.

"Because of you, I was feeling like I was in a tank full of piranhas. You have any idea how people love to stick their nose into others business?" you asked with annoyance, glaring up at Jesse, who only smirked at your spitfire attitude.

'I know, but what's the problem? Let them all know who owns you. By the way, love that comment about how you are my sugar baby. Got me a little rilled up, doll.'

You couldn't take it anymore, you pushed hard against his chest, taking him by surprise as he stumbled one step behind.

"I have enough of this! I'm not an object you can own. I'm an independent woman and I can do whatever I want!" you screamed out at him, and in an instant, he had his hand wrapped around your throat, your back connecting again with the wall, but much harsher.

Jesse snarled down at you, brown eye flashing with annoyance.

'You think you have a choice? Well, you do have, but I don't think you want to lose your dear brother, because of this stupid female pride. You will get used to it, and maybe love it at some point, to be my gorgeous trophy on my part of the arrangement.'

Fear struck you, as you tried to pry his hand off of you, but without any luck.

'I suggest you learn your place. Trust me, I'm far worse than Asa.'

You whimpered, your eyes closed to look Jesse in the eye.

'All you have to do is get down on your hands and knees and by my little baby girl. Pretty easy for a spitfire as yourself. I will enjoy ripping this independence off of you.'

You felt humiliated by his words and squeaked as you felt his lips brush against yours. Your mind kept telling you to just take it what comes at you, that being arrogant and prideful won't save you or your brother.

'Don't let the sin of pride destroy what is most precious for you.' That's what your mind kept repeating over and over. A sigh left your lips, opening them for Jesse who smirked in victory and began to kiss you feverishly.

That was...until, a loud bang of the front door caused both of you to pull away, a fuming and angry Asa into the opened doors, obsidian eyes narrowing at Jesse.

"You. I thought we agreed on sharing her." he spoke, surprisingly calm, but you knew he was one more way from exploding into an inner rage.

'What's got your panties in a bunch, old man.' Jesse spoke through his phone, making Asa take a wide step forward.

"I saw her first." Asa snarled and you were shocked that Jesse was all laid-back about this.

'So? She's on my territory now. Finder's keeper.'

That last comment destroyed Asa's calmness and he lunged at Jesse, throwing a fist straight to the taller man's nose, your eyes widening as you took in the scene, both of them fighting, resulting in a bruised nose for Jesse, who spit blood out, and a busted lip for Asa; still they continued.

You couldn't take this anymore, so you followed your instincts, getting between them, your hands pushing against Asa's chest.

"S-Stop it! This is insane!" you screamed, making them stop and looked at you with shocked and unsure expressions.

Jesse was holding his bruised nose, blood coming out, and following down his mouth, his brown eye narrowed at the smaller male. You looked up to see one of Asa's eyes that started to form a purple bruise along with his busted lip, bleeding.

Asa looked down at you with a glare and something else you couldn't point out. You knew he was still angry by his deep inhales of breath.

"I-It isn't his fault! I agreed to come....I-I am sorry!" you tried to form out some excuses. Why? You didn't know. You might as well have let them beat the hell out of each other or even kill one another.

"You're sorry?" Asa calmly asked, taking a step towards you, only for you to step backward, until your back meets Jesse's front, who looked down at you with an equally bruised face as Asa.

"Are you trying to play us?" Asa snarled, eyes looking so feral down at you, all you could manage to get out were whimpers.

"Are you trying to get us against each other?" Asa asked again, his hand crawling up your chest until he grasped your neck, your eyes wide with terror.

"I've been patient, thought maybe we should have taken you easy and gentle." Asa continued, looking at Jesse, who's mouth pulled from a scowl to a smirk, already figuring out what they wanted to do to you.

"You're a brat. You know what happens to disobedient snobby brats?" Jesse's phone spoke up, one of his hands grasping and squeezing harshly your hip.

"You're gonna get punished tonight." Asa spoke firmly, his fingertips rubbing the skin of your neck, making you gulp down in anxiety for what was to come.

"Tonight. We. Are. Going. To. Fuck. You." Each word was spoken from Jesse's device along with a roll of his hips into yours, making you feel what was to come.

You. Were. Fucked.

To be continued...

[brightbeautifulthings]

MAYHEM BY ESTELLE LAURE BLOG TOUR & CHAPTER EXCERPT

The Lost Boys meets Wilder Girls in this supernatural feminist YA novel.

Available July 14th, 2020

It's 1987 and unfortunately it's not all Madonna and cherry lip balm. Mayhem Brayburn has always known there was something off about her and her mother, Roxy. Maybe it has to do with Roxy's constant physical pain, or maybe with Mayhem's own irresistible pull to water. Either way, she knows they aren't like everyone else.

But when May's stepfather finally goes too far, Roxy and Mayhem flee to Santa Maria, California, the coastal beach town that holds the answers to all of Mayhem's questions about who her mother is, her estranged family, and the mysteries of her own self. There she meets the kids who live with her aunt, and it opens the door to the magic that runs through the female lineage in her family, the very magic Mayhem is next in line to inherit and which will change her life for good.

But when she gets wrapped up in the search for the man who has been kidnapping girls from the beach, her life takes another dangerous turn and she is forced to face the price of vigilante justice and to ask herself whether revenge is worth the cost.

From the acclaimed author of This Raging Light and But Then I Came Back, Estelle Laure offers a riveting and complex story with magical elements about a family of women contending with what appears to be an irreversible destiny, taking control and saying when enough is enough.

About the Author:

Estelle Laure, the author of This Raging Light and But Then I Came Back believes in love, magic, and the power of facing hard truths. She has a BA in Theatre Arts and an MFA from Vermont College of Fine Arts in Writing for Children and Young Adults, and she lives in Taos, New Mexico, with her family. Her work is translated widely around the world. 

Twitter | Instagram | Get Your Copy

Read on for a special chapter excerpt of Mayhem!

three Santa Maria

“Trouble,” Roxy says. She arches a brow at the kids by the van through the bug-spattered windshield, the ghost of a half-smile rippling across her face.

“You would know,” I shoot.

“So would you,” she snaps.

Maybe we’re a little on edge. We’ve been in the car so long the pattern on the vinyl seats is tattooed on the back of my thighs.

The kids my mother is talking about, the ones sitting on the white picket fence, look like they slithered up the hill out of the ocean, covered in seaweed, like the carnival music we heard coming from the boardwalk as we were driving into town plays in the air around them at all times. Two crows are on the posts beside them like they’re standing guard, and they caw at each other loudly as we come to a stop. I love every- thing about this place immediately and I think, ridiculously, that I am no longer alone.

The older girl, white but tan, curvaceous, and lean, has her arms around the boy and is lovely with her smudged eye makeup and her ripped clothes. The younger one pops some- thing made of bright colors into her mouth and watches us come up the drive. She is in a military-style jacket with a ton of buttons, her frizzy blond hair reaching in all directions, freckles slapped across her cheeks. And the boy? Thin, brown, hungry-looking. Not hungry in his stomach. Hungry with his eyes. He has a green bandana tied across his forehead and holes in the knees of his jeans. There’s an A in a circle drawn in marker across the front of his T-shirt.

Anarchy.

“Look!” Roxy points to the gas gauge. It’s just above the E. “You owe me five bucks, Cookie. I told you to trust we would make it, and see what happened? You should listen to your mama every once in a while.”

“Yeah, well, can I borrow the five bucks to pay you for the bet? I’m fresh out of cash at the moment.”

“Very funny.”

Roxy cranes out the window and wipes the sweat off her upper lip, careful not to smudge her red lipstick. She’s been having real bad aches the last two days, even aside from her bruises, and her appetite’s been worse than ever. The only thing she ever wants is sugar. After having been in the car for so long, you’d think we’d be falling all over each other to get out, but we’re still sitting in the car. In here we’re still us.

She sighs for the thousandth time and clutches at her belly. “I don’t know about this, May.”

California can’t be that different from West Texas.

I watch TV. I know how to say gag me with a spoon and grody to the max.

I fling open the door.

Roxy gathers her cigarettes and lighter, and drops them in- side her purse with a snap.

“Goddammit, Elle,” she mutters to herself, eyes flickering toward the kids again. Roxy looks at me over the rims of her sunglasses before shoving them back on her nose. “Mayhem, I’m counting on you to keep your head together here. Those kids are not the usual—”

“I know! You told me they’re foster kids.” 

“No, not that,” she says, but doesn’t clarify. “Okay, I guess.”

“I mean it. No more of that wild-child business.”

“I will keep my head together!” I’m so tired of her saying this. I never had any friends, never a boyfriend—all I have is what Grandmother calls my nasty mouth and the hair Lyle always said was ugly and whorish. And once or twice I might’ve got drunk on the roof, but it’s not like I ever did anything. Besides, no kid my age has ever liked me even once. I’m not the wild child in the family.

“Well, all right then.” Roxy messes with her hair in the rear- view mirror, then sprays herself with a cloud of Chanel No. 5 and runs her fingers over her gold necklace. It’s of a bird, not unlike the ones making a fuss by the house. She’s had it as long as I can remember, and over time it’s been worn smooth by her worrying fingers. It’s like she uses it to calm herself when she’s upset about something, and she’s been upset the whole way here, practically. Usually, she’d be good and buzzed by this time of day, but since she’s had to drive some, she’s only nipped from the tiny bottle of wine in her purse a few times and only taken a couple pills since we left Taylor. The with- drawal has turned her into a bit of a she-demon.

I try to look through her eyes, to see what she sees. Roxy hasn’t been back here since I was three years old, and in that time, her mother has died, her father has died, and like she said when she got the card with the picture enclosed that her twin sister, Elle, sent last Christmas, Everybody got old. After that, she spent a lot of time staring in the mirror, pinching at her neck skin. When I was younger, she passed long nights telling me about Santa Maria and the Brayburn Farm, about how it was good and evil in equal measure, about how it had desires that had to be satisfied.

Brayburns, she would say. In my town, we were the legends. 

These were the mumbled stories of my childhood, and they made everything about this place loom large. Now that we’re here, I realize I expected the house to have a gaping maw filled with spitty, frothy teeth, as much as I figured there would be fairies flitting around with wands granting wishes. I don’t want to take her vision away from her, but this place looks pretty normal to me, if run-down compared to our new house in Taylor, where there’s no dust anywhere, ever, and Lyle prac- tically keeps the cans of soup in alphabetical order. Maybe what’s not so normal is that this place was built by Brayburns, and here Brayburns matter. I know because the whole road is named after us and because flowers and ribbons and baskets of fruit sat at the entrance, gifts from the people in town, Roxy said. They leave offerings. She said it like it’s normal to be treated like some kind of low-rent goddess.

Other than the van and the kids, there are trees here, rose- bushes, an old black Mercedes, and some bikes leaning against the porch that’s attached to the house. It’s splashed with fresh white paint that doesn’t quite cover up its wrinkles and scars. It’s three stories, so it cuts the sunset when I look up, and plants drape down to touch the dirt.

The front door swings open and a woman in bare feet races past the rosebushes toward us. It is those feet and the reckless way they pound against the earth that tells me this is my aunt Elle before her face does. My stomach gallops and there are bumps all over my arms, and I am more awake than I’ve been since.

I thought Roxy might do a lot of things when she saw her twin sister. Like she might get super quiet or chain-smoke, or maybe even get biting like she can when she’s feeling wrong about something. The last thing I would have ever imagined was them running toward each other and colliding in the driveway, Roxy wrapping her legs around Elle’s waist, and them twirling like that. 

This seems like something I shouldn’t be seeing, some- thing wounded and private that fills up my throat. I flip my- self around in my seat and start picking through the things we brought and chide myself yet again for the miserable packing job I did. Since I was basically out of my mind trying to get out of the house, I took a whole package of toothbrushes, an armful of books, my River Phoenix poster, plus I emptied out my underwear drawer, but totally forgot to pack any shoes, so all I have are some flip-flops I bought at the truck stop outside of Las Cruces after that man came to the window, slurring, You got nice legs. Tap, tap tap. You got such nice legs.

My flip-flops are covered in Cheeto dust from a bag that got upended. I slip them on anyway, watching Roxy take her sunglasses off and prop them on her head.

“Son of a bitch!” my aunt says, her voice tinny as she catches sight of Roxy’s eye. “Oh my God, that’s really bad, Rox. You made it sound like nothing. That’s not nothing.”

“Ellie,” Roxy says, trying to put laughter in her voice. “I’m here now. We’re here now.”

There’s a pause.

“You look the same,” Elle says. “Except the hair. You went full Marilyn Monroe.”

“What about you?” Roxy says, fussing at her platinum waves with her palm. “You go full granola warrior? When’s the last time you ate a burger?”

“You know I don’t do that. It’s no good for us. Definitely no good for the poor cows.”

“It’s fine for me.” Roxy lifts Elle’s arm and puckers her nose. “What’s going on with your armpits? May not eat meat but you got animals under there, looks like.”

“Shaving is subjugation.”

“Shaving is a mercy for all mankind.” 

They erupt into laughter and hug each other again.

“Well, where is she, my little baby niece?” Elle swings the car door open. “Oh, Mayhem.” She scoops me out with two strong arms. Right then I realize just how truly tired I am. She seems to know, squeezes extra hard for a second before letting me go. She smells like the sandalwood soap Roxy buys sometimes. “My baby girl,” Elle says, “you have no idea how long I’ve been waiting to see you. How much I’ve missed you.”

Roxy circles her ear with a finger where Elle can’t see her.

Crazy, she mouths. I almost giggle.

[suppressedanxiety]

"He had a Prince to scold." | me, sitting in a chair and pulling out a water bottle: I am here for this tea

@naninadapanda said: Yes go scold that prince And Virgil when you wake up I think you should tell Logan how you feel, he seems like he might be willing to listen a little bit.Anonymous said: Bad choices 2: Electric Boogaloo Okay but seriously this is not gonna end well at all, especially if patton finds out. Anyway Logan better yell at Roman for me, even tho hes also making dumb choices by not checking up on the other aspects of Anxietys health, hes most likely dehydrated at this point.@skeletonsloverockcandy said: YOU HAND IT TO HIM LOGAN, LET ROMAN HAVE IT@enby-phoenix said: At least Logan realizes that they’ve been treating Virgil badly. Poor kiddo tho, he really thought he was going to be dissected! That sounded TERRIFYING.@just-some-gt-trash said: Ooo Roman you’re in trouble

@dragonindigo245 said: I’m just so glad Virgil isn’t being mishandled anymore. Please give Roman a good scolding for me.@pansy-chic27213 said: Logan, while scolding Roman is all well and good, please, can you, for the love of all that is good and holy, at the very least, leave some food and water for Virgil, in case he wakes up before you return? Unless I am misunderstanding, and the Sides don’t need to eat. But if you need to eat, Virgil does too, and he has not, and I’m worried. (ÓnÒ)Anonymous said: I’m assuming that like half an hour has passed at most since Logan came to get Anxiety, so that means Roman’s probably still asleep. >:) Can’t say it’s not appealing to think about Roman being woken up by Logan scolding him after what he did to AnxietyAnonymous said: Logan, don’t be TOO hard on Princey, he didn’t know any more than you did. (But do let him know, because yikes.)

-

Three sharp knocks roused Roman from his slumber again, and since Patton’s knocks were much sweeter and the other resident of the house didn’t knock at all (and was currently much too small to knock), he knew exactly who it was at the door.

He rolled over to smush his face back into the pillow, thinking restful thoughts.

Knock. Knock. Knock. 

“Ugh!” He dragged himself from the remnants of the wonderful dream he’d been having, and stormed across the room in a glittery bathrobe. He flung the door open. “What is it, Microsoft Turd, I’m trying to- Wait, where’s the emo?” He asked, thoughts derailed by Logan’s empty hands. 

Now that he was looking, actually, those hands were clenched into fists. He trailed his gaze up to Logan’s face, and was surprised by the harsh set of it. 

“In my room. Unconscious.” He bit out, and Roman blinked in surprise, waving a hand to return to his normal attire. 

“What in the world happened?” He asked, moving forwards to exit his room. An arm shot out, blocking his way, and Logan pushed him back into the room, closing the door behind them. “What are you-?”    

“You happened, Roman.” Logan cut him off, voice sharp. “I happened. He passed out because of the painful bruises encircling almost his entire torso.” 

“What?” Roman near-screeched. “And you think that’s my fault? There’s no way!” 

“Oh, do you propose something else caused it, then? Non illness-related fainting is primarily caused by exhaustion, a drop in blood sugar, dehydration, or severe pain. Do you mean to tell me that one of those other factors are causing this when I saw for myself the finger-shaped bruises on him?” Logan jabbed a finger into his chest with every symptom he listed.

Roman puffed up like an inflatable beach ball, prepared to defend himself, because Anxiety hadn’t uttered a single complaint while they were together, it must have happened some time else, but was drawn up short by a sudden thought. A drop in blood pressure or dehydration…

Had Anxiety eaten in the past twelve hours? He remembered putting leftovers from dinner away in the kitchen under the impression that he’d retrieve them whenever Anxiety got hungry. He didn’t remember Anxiety being hungry. Creations of the Imagination didn’t need to eat, and so he’d forgotten about the leftovers without a second thought.

“Oh, heavens.” A first aid kit appeared in his hands, and he moved forward again. “Perhaps I did make a mistake. A small one.” 

Logan’s eyebrows raised, and then furrowed severely. “Do you mean to imply that one or more of the other factors are at play?” 

“Quite possibly… all of them?” Roman admitted, and held up a hand to forestall any more scolding. “Before anything else, we should make sure he’s okay, right?”

“It would be best to check in with him directly to find out the cause, yes.” Logan said stiffly, finally letting him past to open the door. He began to lead the way down the hall and Logan spoke again. “Though… I’m not sure how honest he will be with us.” 

“He’s lying?” Roman asked, lips pursed. “How does he expect us to take care of him properly if he doesn’t tell us what he needs?”  

“I expect he doesn’t particularly want us to ‘take care of him’ at all, Roman. This could be a manifestation of that stubbornness, though a fairly ineffective one.” Logan said, dryly. The creative Side huffed. 

“I truly do not understand that guy. This is the perfect opportunity to prove that his presence is necessary to Thomas, like he’s always yapping about.” 

Logan hummed, too caught up in his own theories to properly respond. They finally reached his room, and Logan held an arm out to prevent Roman from entering, ignoring his quizzical glance to open a window that showed his desk. 

“If he isn’t awake, I don’t want to startle him by entering,” he explained shortly, adjusting the view they saw through the window until the box Anxiety was placed in was in full view. He expected a snarky comment about his lack of extravagance, but instead Roman seemed almost speechless.

“Wow, he really is… small.” He said, staring down at the tiny form. 

“Astute.” Logan sniped, and Roman elbowed him. 

“You know what I mean!”  

Logan did. Though objectively Anxiety’s size hadn’t changed, it was different to see him unconscious, bundled into a bed the size of their hands. The laxness of his form made him seem much more vulnerable than when he was puffing himself up and spitting like an angry cat. 

He sighed. “It’s possible that we need to re-evaluate the parameters of this test.”

[welcometophu]

Into the Split: Reconstruction 3

Twinned Book 3: Into the Split

Reconstruction 3

[ Previous | First | Next ]

For a little while, it’s fun just to be alive.

Nikita and Heather show up mid-morning on Saturday, ringing the doorbell of Pawel’s house, then knocking for good measure. Seth answers because with only sweats on, he’s more dressed than Nikolai, who has to drag on a pair of jeans in order to leave the bedroom. Nikolai makes it to the stairs just as Nikita and Heather are coming inside.

Seth scratches at the hair on his chest. “We were asleep,” he says.

“Dozing,” Nikolai corrects. They’d gotten up earlier, had some breakfast, then climbed back into bed to lie down. It seems decadent to lie around and do nothing, but he’s also sure that eventually they won’t have this luxury and he wants to enjoy it while he can. “Pawel is actually still asleep.”

“Was,” Pawel calls out through his door. “Waking up now. Who’s here?”

“We’ve come to take Nikolai and Seth to the barbecue,” Heather calls out. “OPT and SigPsiE are hosting the barbecue part of today’s lawn party, so we’re going to be grilling and eating from now until after sundown. Phoenix Rising has a set as part of the live music during the afternoon, and we just thought it’d be fun.”

“This is the big spring weekend here at PHU, and I’m really excited that we get to enjoy it without the end of the world hanging over our head.” Nikita mimes something dropping down on her own head. “You’ll love it. Just be ready for some crowds. This makes the sugaring festival look like there was no one really there.”

Heather makes a shooing motion with her hands. “Go. Get ready. Let’s get out of here so Pawel can spend his day catching up on the grading he hasn’t made his TAs do. Or maybe meet with his TAs so he can figure out how to finish up his classes.”

“I heard that.” Pawel makes his way past Nikolai down the stairs. “She’s right, though. Go have fun today. I have work to do, and you deserve to have a little fun.” His hair sticks up in different directions all over, like he did just wake up, but his skin has more color than Nikolai has seen in a while, and the bags under his eyes are less pronounced. “I promise I will eat and take care of myself today if you leave me here on my own.”

Heather shoos them again. “Go,” she says. “Get dressed. Come on.”

It doesn’t take long before they’re on their way to campus. The music is audible even from a few blocks from campus, where Pawel lives, and gets louder the closer they get. The band playing as they walk has a heavy fiddle component, and strong drums.

Nikita and Heather walk hand in hand. As Nikita starts swinging their joined hands to the lively beat, Heather laughs and lifts her hand, twirling Nikita while they walk. Nikita swings back towards Heather, captures her and skips down the sidewalk, dancing along.

They wait at the corner, laughing.

Nikolai feels it in his heart, this light, airy sensation of being free.

It’s weird.

Seth catches his hand, twines their fingers together. “I could live here, if I had to,” he says softly.

The sky overhead is blue, and the air is warm enough to be out in just a t-shirt and jeans. Nikolai’s hair blows in his face, a little longer than it should be. He huffs to blow it away, then reaches up and threads his fingers through it, pushing it back.

“Want a ponytail holder?” Nikita stops dancing along beside them in order to offer a purple band held between pinched fingertips. She motions, and Nikolai turns so that he can pull his hair back into a twist at the back of his neck. Some of his bangs aren’t quite long enough and fall forward as he tilts his head. She pats the back of his shoulders. “Everyone’s going to love that bun.”

Seth leans close. “You know how you like it when my hair gets long, even though I hate the curls?” he asks quietly. When Nikolai nods, Seth grins. “I like the idea that I can play with your hair like this. It looks good on you.”

Maybe he won’t cut it right away.

Nikolai sees what Nikita meant about the crowds. Long before they reach the Quad where the stage and barbecue are, Nikolai sees people everywhere. It’s as if the entire population of the campus, plus more, is out on the various benches and spots of grass. People lie out on blankets, bathing in the warmth of the spring sun. It’s lazy and loud and absolutely different from anything he’s used to. He’s seen the students out in the warmth before, but not like this. Not with this buzz of celebration around them.

“They’re all so happy,” Seth says.

There’s a flush to Heather’s cheeks. “They always are this week,” she says, a spring in her step as she pulls Nikita forward. “They don’t even know what happened. This is just when we celebrate that spring is finally warming up, and finals are almost here. It’s a weekend to just let cares fall away and relax. It feels so, so good.”

Nikolai has a feeling that Heather might be high on leaked emotions. He suspects that Heather has a small problem with needing the feel of positive emotion, especially after conversations he’s had with her friends, but he can see the way it effects her. She’s light and excited in ways he hasn’t seen before. It’s obviously good for her.

The music ends and the singer talks to the audience. Nikolai can’t hear everything, but he thinks it’s a farewell and thank you and that the next band is coming up. The name of the band is swallowed by the roar of voices responding, and Nikita gives a small shout.

“Rory’s up,” she says. The only thing to do is hurry with her as she rushes through the crowds, heading between buildings.

The brick path opens up into an empty space ringed by at least eight buildings. The Quad consists of several grassy stretches, partly up a hill, split by walkways going every which direction. A stage has been built in front of one building that runs along half of one side of the Quad, and as musicians carry instruments off, Nikolai recognizes some of the people waiting to carry their own gear up.

“Rory!” Nikita yells out, and he turns, raising a hand in their direction with a confused expression. The expression eases when Nikita waves wildly, and he smiles and waves back.

Once the other band has cleared the stage, Alaric and Chris help carry up a drum kit, placing it according to Stormy’s directions. She’s barefoot, wearing only shorts and a tank top that doesn’t hide the sports bra under it. Nikolai thinks she should be cold, but she seems comfortable as she orders them around arranging things the way she likes. She pulls up a stool and settles in, running a little riff with her drumsticks while the others finish up.

Kit sits on one back corner of the stage with a woman Nikolai doesn’t recognize. There’s another man on stage as well, tuning his instrument with Rory and Thorne before Thorne breaks away to adjust mic stands: one down to his own height, one higher for Rory.

“I’m hungry,” Heather says. “We should eat while we listen, because we’re going to be working after this.”

As they head over to the grills, Thorne’s voice rings out. “Hey, PHU! I know you already know half of us, but we’re Phoenix Rising, and we’re really glad to be here today. Rory and I are a captive audience of course—” He cuts off as the crowd yells out Hi Thorne! He pauses long enough to blow kisses. “Thanks, guys. We’ve also got the rest of our band here with us today. Andy,” he points to the guy at the back, who raises one hand, “and Stormy.” She runs a long riff that settles into a low rolling beat in the background as Thorne speaks.

“We’ve only got a half hour, so I’m going to stop talking—” Again he cuts off as the crowd yells. Behind him, the band shifts into the intro of something that sounds quick and rambunctious, and Thorne backs up, raising one hand as he yells out, “Let’s make some noise!”

Nikolai doesn’t know the music, and it’s not quite drowned out by the crowd singing along with Thorne, but he gets the idea of it. It’s loud and fun and the beat gets under his skin. He doesn’t know it, but he likes it.

He eats while Heather and Seth talk, trading Empathic and Dreamwalker tips in too-loud voices, shouting over the music to hear each other. Nikita gives Nikolai a small, fond smile, and he nods, agreeing. They can’t help but love them when they’re intense like this, earnest about their abilities and protective of their other halves.

“Here.” Nikita takes away the empty plate from Nikolai’s hand, and gives him another laden with potato salad, hot corn on the cob with a stick shoved into it, and a sausage also on a stick. A fork sticks straight up from the potatoes, and he starts with that, while steam rises from the others which are fresh from the grill.

It’s all good. The sausage has a smoky spicy bite to it, and the corn is sprinkled with a sweet/salty/spicy seasoning that sticks to the butter and char from the grill. Nikolai can’t quite finish the sausage, so he holds it out and Seth turns to him without Nikolai asking and takes a bite while Nikolai holds it for him.

When Seth kisses him, he tastes of smoke and sunshine, and Nikolai’s heart thumps loudly. There are times and places for hiding away, but this feels as if they are finally getting their celebration, so he frames Seth’s face with his hands and leans in, foreheads pressed together before he kisses him again several times.

He hears shouts and his name being called, but no one sounds angry. Everything about this day seems full of joy.

Nikolai wonders if this is what it’s like to be an Empath, to feel the emotion rolling off of everyone around them as if they’re shouting pleasure to the wind. Seth’s cheeks are flushed, and Nikolai knows he has to feel it. Seth exhales and smiles wide enough to crinkle his eyes.

“I need to help out here, but Nikita’s not actually a sister—”

“She lives in our room! She could still help,” Carolyn interrupts.

Heather gives her a dirty look. “Nikita’s not actually a sister,” she emphasizes, “so go have fun with her. She can show you around. There are games, and drinks, and Thorne and Rory will be finishing up soon if you want to see them.”

“Oooh, Twister!” Nikita grips Nikolai’s arm and pulls. “Come on! Lawn Twister is fun!”

“Lawn Twister?” Seth asks, but they let her pull them along in her wake.

The path twists and turns, taking them to the far side of the Quad, under a circle of trees where several mats have been set up. Brightly colored dots decorate the mats, and there are groups around each mat. As they approach, Nikita waves and points at a mat where only one person waits. “Can we join in?”

A man standing off to one side gestures in assent, and Nikita runs up to the mat. “Hi, I’m Nik, and I’m going to be your partner.”

“Be my guest,” the other girl says.

Nikita goes over the rules quickly, and Nikolai vaguely remembers having a game like this when he was very young. They’re playing with teams, so he and Seth will line up at one end of the mat, their feet covering the four dots across the end, while they face Nikita and her partner. Every time the referee spins and calls out a color and hand or foot, they’ll need to place that immediately. He and Seth can share a dot, but they can’t use a dot that Nikita and her partner are using. First person to fall means that team loses.

Sounds easy enough.

Nikolai sheds his shoes and socks and steps onto the mat. The referee calls out, “Right hand red!” and Seth immediately crouches down to put his right directly in front of his right foot.

Nikolai’s going to have to twist across Seth to do it, but it’s possible, and his height helps. He balances, and the game goes quickly after that.

Nikita’s partner is twisty, but Nikita’s height gives her an advantage. Nikolai and Seth end up hopelessly tangled up, but he thinks maybe it’s a little easier when you really don’t care where your partner touches you as you move. They press together closely, and don’t fall until Nikita’s foot slips and she pushes against Nikolai’s foot on her way down.

All four of them end up in a heap, laughing as the referee yells out that they are eliminated. Of the ten mats laid out, they are the eighth to fall, so they have a short chance to rest before the final team is declared the winner of the round.

Apparently the winner gets a tiny pair of stuffed animals, which the winning team raises high while they all cheer.

They play another few rounds before Nikolai is feeling overstretched and aching, and his ribs hurt from laughing. They don’t manage to win, but that’s okay. They’ve had fun, and it’s warm and nothing’s hanging over his head. The last time he ends up in a heap with Seth straddling him, and he reaches up to pull Seth down and kiss him while people cheer and egg them on.

It’s very much worth it.

Music continues to play in the background, changing every half hour or so as one band shuffles off and another on. At one point Trish takes the stage—just herself and a guitar—but it’s no less rollicking and fun once she starts to sing.

When someone presses a bucket into Nikolai’s hands and points him towards Nikita, he doesn’t ask questions. As she turns to face him, she has some kind of plastic gun in her hands, and he quickly fishes through his memory and realizes what he’s landed in. He manages to upend most of the bucket of water over her head as she sprays him in the face. She has better range, and he’s soaked by the time he reaches Seth and tries to hide behind him, laughing.

They end up shirtless, with their shirts over their shoulders to dry while they soak up the warm spring sun.

“I don’t think I’d mind walking miles on a day like today,” Nikolai comments as he stands to one side, breathing in deeply and resting finally. The water war rages on, but they’ve managed to get out of the way for the moment.

“We’ve eaten. We’ll eat again. We have a bed. A nomadic life’s easy with help like that,” Seth notes. He squeezes Nikolai’s hand, presses against him, shoulder to shoulder. “On the other hand, if we get stuck here, I think we could survive.”

“Me too.” Nikolai hates thinking like that, but as every hour goes by and every day, and they have no idea how to get home again, he has to let the thought creep in. And it does, like a not-so-gentle reminder that he’s not done yet.

He knows that it’s not always sun and laughter here, but right now the Quad is full of joy.

Seth shoulders Nikolai, then looks off to one side. Nikolai follows his gaze and spots Pels under a tree, arms crossed tightly and her head tilted as if she looks at invisible person nearby. She speaks in hushed tones, her expression angry.

Seth starts walking and Nikolai follows. “Hey,” Seth calls out.

Pels stops talking abruptly and turns to face them. “Hey….” She draws the word out uncertainly.

“Seth. Nikolai.” Seth taps his own chest, then nudges Nikolai. “We met at your Coven thing. You seemed pretty angry then, too.”

Her gaze narrows. “Empath?”

Seth nods.

Pels rolls her eyes, making a dismissive gesture. “Stay out of my head. I don’t need your help.”

Maybe not, but it feels like she needs something. “Why are you here?” Nikolai asks.

Pels glares and gestures to the space beside her. “Because I have to be. I’m not really into crowds.”

“Neither are we, really,” Nikolai admits. He edges a little closer, shifting so that they stand beside her, no longer blocking the view of the rest of the Quad. “We were on our own for long enough that this is a bit unsettling. We’re still enjoying it, though.”

“Good for you,” Pels mutters under her breath.

“Is it that you won’t enjoy it, or you don’t want to enjoy it?” Seth asks. “Or is the risk that you might enjoy it, and that would change how you see yourself?”

“What the hell?” Pels asks.

Nikolai thinks Seth has a point. When Pels flinches, stepping away from the empty space, though, he has to wonder what other influences are going on in her life. “You should seize the day,” he says quietly.

“Maybe I don’t want to seize anything, and maybe I’m tired of people telling me how to live my life because they think I need things I don’t necessarily need,” Pels spits out.

Nikolai can tell that she’s talking to the space next to her more than him. “Well, you never know when you’re going to be whisked away to another world entirely,” he says ruefully. “So if there’s ever anything you might regret, deal with it first. Because things change fast.”

“Don’t I know it.” She throws her arms up, and Nikolai gets a glimpse of darkness on her wrist. She moves too fast for him to see what it is, and she crosses her arms again quickly as if to hide it. “It’s well-meaning advice, fine, but sometimes, I’ve just got to—” She cuts off, swiveling to face the space on her other side. She jabs a finger into the air. “And you can just shut up, too,” she grumbles. “Look, I’ve got to....” Her voice trails off, hands uncrossing to hang loose by her side.

There’s a girl across the Quad, tall with auburn hair, talking to a guy who stands beside her. They’re heading for the barbecue.

“If you’re hungry, you should eat,” Seth says gently.

Pels jerks back, blinking like she forgot they were there. She sighs as she bows her head, hair falling into her face. “Yeah. Maybe I could eat,” she decides. She makes her way to the path slowly, hands shoved into the pockets of a light jacket she probably doesn’t need in this weather. Her shoulders are hunched but she’s staring at the pair like she’s going to intercept them.

Nikolai turns away to give her some privacy.

Seth’s brow is furrowed. “I can’t figure her out, but I hope that wasn’t too pushy.”

“I get the feeling that no matter what anyone says to her, it’s too pushy,” Nikolai observes. “Rory said she was working some things out, and I think some of that has to do with whatever—or whoever—she was yelling at.”

“Weird Talent,” Seth says, and Nikolai has to agree.

The afternoon passes by in a haze of summer sun and more food. There’s a break in music just as dusk falls, and Nikolai and Seth are pressed into helping at the grills where everyone seems to want dinner served by OPT and SigPsiE at the same time. They work as darkness falls, until everyone is sated and the grill is closing up while the headliners of the day take the stage.

Nikolai has no idea who they are, but the energy in the Quad is at an even higher level. People are screaming, calling out names, and on the stage, the band setting up is chatting back. Nikolai gets the impression they’re famous in some way, and not a local group like Rory and Thorne, or Trish. This is something big and unexpected.

They start to play, and the excitement reaches a crescendo, the screams almost deafening. Seth’s expression is alight with pleasure, and he sways as Nikolai wraps his arms around him, moving to the beginning of the music.

They are cast in shadows, only the lights from the stage remaining in the Quad and it’s strange not to be afraid of the darkness. They can enjoy the intimacy, the pleasure of being out in public with a crowd, but also cocooned in their own private space.

“Nikolai.”

A soft whisper from the darkness. Seth goes stiff in Nikolai’s arms, and they turn as one.

“Nikolai,” the whisper comes again, and the darkness moves, a shadowed figure moving out of the deepest darkness and into the faint light. She’s shaped like a person despite the darkness, and she reaches out before letting her hand drop. “I’m not starving,” she whispers. “I haven’t killed anyone. I promise.”

“Chelsea,” Nikolai says, and the shadowy head nods.

She’s alive. Which is great news for Pawel and possibly for them as well. Nikolai swallows hard, and with his hands around Seth he can feel the way Seth’s heart ratchets faster.

“Are you here for—”

“I’ve figured out how to take you home,” she whispers. “It’s not the same, but I can do it. If you help me first, then I can help you.”

“Of course,” Seth says quickly.

“Of course,” Nikolai echoes. Whatever she needs, because it’s time to finish this adventure and go home.

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[vivienncs]

❧ make sure you KISS your fist before you PUNCH me in the face ❧

❝  Forgiveness is a war between the head and the heart and my body is a battleground. This is how it ends. I'm built of speed but nobody ever taught me how to back down. I wouldn't know how to outrun a war. ❞

BRIANNE TJU? No, that’s actually VIVIENNE ‘VIV’ CHANG from the NEXT GENERATION ERA. You know, the child of CHO CHANG and NICO TEJA? Only 21 years old, this GRYFFINDOR alumni works as an INDEPENDENT CURSEBREAKER and is sided with THE ORDER OF THE PHOENIX. SHE identifies as a CIS WOMAN and is a HALFBLOOD who is known to be CRITICAL, ABRASIVE, and UNFORGIVING but also DAUNTLESS, UNSTOPPABLE, and QUICK-WITTED. — &&. ( JANE, NZT, SHE/HER, 22. )

hellooooo this is jane

viv’s pinterest is here!!! ( she also has a smaller section HERE in my general quantum leap board ) 

viv is mostly a chaotic competitive

this is the girl who decided to try in her classes bc some asshole annoyed her and she decided the appropriate response was to beat him at everything he loves so

anyway it worked out! she found the academic half of her nerdjock truth and ended up taking way too many fucking newts and owls

her history of magic project in sixth year was about how the founders are fake/fables (the real people still existed probs but certainly the names and traits make more sense as fables and anyway surnames didn’t exist like that at the time and she has a lot of points and i bet someone tells her it’s a dumb idea so she devotes herself to it as her history of magic project) so get ready for her to tell u about that if she remotely values ur academic opinions/thoughts

tiny™

like 4′11″

maybe she’s hit 5′0″ now that she’s twenty one (good grief) but chances are no... also wouldn’t make a difference anyway —- she’d be an inch closer to some people and still over a foot shorter than her bf

she was a chaser for gryffindor from a young age, and until she was in sixth year, she’d really intended on playing professionally and had been involved in the sport from her youth, playing in younger leagues and being part of professional youth teams during her hogwarts years. it’s something she’s still v passionate about, but what it really comes down to is that when she was having her academic careers meeting in fifth year, she realised: there were other things she equally wanted to do with her life. before that moment, it had never really been framed that way, like there was anything else she cared enough about to do for the rest of her life, that there was anything else she was good enough to do, but after that meeting and during the months following, she really came to understand that while her notable speed and physicality would always be things she connected to, she truly loved history and academia, and the theory of magic (as well as the practical execution of curses / unravelling them), and something about combining those aspects with her determined and dauntless spirit set her on track for cursebreaking (independently —- we aren’t here for destroying magics of antiquity and other cultures for capitalism n banks y’all)

don’t fuck w her gals 

will break ur nose and not apologise

will help lily bury a body if need be

cho is younger child of weisheng chang, who was brother to jia chang, mother to marlene mckinnon —- marlene and cho were cousins, except marls died when cho was a baby, rip (jia was younger and had her children when she was young, whereas weisheng had them later in life, and cho was his younger child). seeing as jia’s estrangement from their family was due to their parents and weisheng had no beef with her, they reconnected properly a few years before the mckinnons died (except now marlene is alive again, adult!cho’s popped out of existence, and viv’s now got a teenage mother who doesn’t know her and also her mother’s dead war hero of a cousin. it’s a Time™ aight)

in fourth, year she once paid the quidditch commentator a galleon to call al “prefect potter” during an entire game and her defence to her mother was “listen he likes it and anyway it’s re-establishing his authority and reminding all the youths which one he is, as if they could forget a walking mountain”

(she does call him prefect potter)

v ride or die

loves dogs and magical creatures, hates birds and cats

just…. she’s tiny but believe she will fling herself at u if need be

an aries!! god no wonder she’s so competitive

SUUUUUPER into types of magic and magical knowledge like girl took way too many owls just bc she’s so fascinated in the nature of magic and how it can be used and magic from other cultures bc of how magical linguistics work and it definitely fed into her becoming a cursebreaker

v loyal friend but also highkey has excellent side eye for when ur being a dumbass

loves sugar quills and chaos

tends to take her time on some issues bc logically she sees pros and cons from both sides but when she makes an Emotional Decision™ on it, she’ll stand by it. until then, it’s mostly deliberating from a logical standpoint, which is prone to change with new info (things like joining the order tho are like… in her opinion, there’s nothing to debate with that?? like, that was the obvious right choice, it’s not something less clear cut)

dropped herbology and astronomy so fuckin quick after fifth year —- she liked neville a lot, but herbology is just not her cup of tea

stans viktor krum so fuckin hard

she has wanted connections that i will Think About More And Post but i have to send my ass to sleep asap

[ parental death tw ] her mum raised her by herself at first and then reconnected with her dad but he died when viv was about ten [ end parental death tw ]

scottish (always lived in glasgow area)

“swearing in a scottish accent is patriotic, minerva”

recalcitrant, reckless, harsh, impatient, unforgiving, highly critical, abrasive, sharp-tongued, blunt, not... super comforting

but also: loyal, ferocious, tough, determined, dauntless, quick-witted, unflinching, clever, dedicated, wry, perceptive, protective

currently dating al potter, timeline tbd (but recent-ish), lives w lily potter

travelled a bit/was in and out of the uk during her training but is Firmly Back Now other than any work trip she may have

re: time clash —- oof. ooooof. ok. well, not thrilled that her mother has, for all intents and purposes, disappeared. she realises that the cho currently around is literally her mother, but also she very much isn’t, and it’s a weird situation. trying to be there for her though, and also marlene & other mckinnons who have popped up, though from what she’s heard abt the mckinnon side of marlene’s family, she’s not super inclined to be welcoming (touched on in marls’ bio, but seeing as that’s only linked in discord bc her intro is still drafted for now, tl;dr is that the mckinnon grandparents were racist, mostly in the like... ‘i voted for obama!! how can i be racist, even w all these microaggressions??’ sorta way, though there were a few more Explicit Incidents). still, having her family around is weird, but it’s far, far from the worst of it all.

really interested in the actual logistics of the timeclash and is someone who is thinking abt the logical progressions that can occur from here, but also —- in line w being unforgiving, she’s... in theory, she does agree with the idea that you can’t punish someone for something they haven’t done yet. but she looks at people like theodore nott & peter pettigrew & that just burns away, and all the theory and thoughts go out the fucking window and she wants to step on them and grind them to dust with her heel.

character parallels: holly short (artemis fowl), maya hart (gmw), elizabeth swann (potc), zoë nightshade (pjo), leia organa (star wars), thalia grace (pjo), kat stratford (10 things i hate about you), patty (she’s out of my league), xena (xena warrior princess), paris geller (gilmore girls), isabelle lightwood (the shadowhunter chronicles), hands holloway (accepted), drainpipe edwards (vinyl 2012), james rhodes (marvel), and apparently fuckin’ legolas greenleaf lmfaaaaaaao [ many of these r from charactour so... watch me add some as actual ones come to mind, probably ]

[homenum-revelio-hq]

Welcome to the Order of the Phoenix, Charly!

You have been accepted for the role of non-biography character GIDEON PREWETT with the faceclaim of Sam Heughan! We really enjoyed your discussion of Gideon’s personality, especially in relationship in the differences between Gideon and Fabian! We think Gideon’s level-headed outlook will be a great addition to the Order. We are so excited to have you as part of this roleplay!

Please take a look at the new member checklist and send in your account within 24 hours! Thank you for joining the fight against Voldemort!

OUT OF CHARACTER:

NAME: Charly (he/him)

AGE: 27

TIMEZONE: GMT+1

ACTIVITY LEVEL: I will usually find time to be online and do replies once a day, or at least every other day. I work full time atm and sometimes have activities on the weekends but I always do my best to maintain a steady activity

ANYTHING ELSE: I’m not the biggest fan of images of hardcore gore. Descriptions are fine, I just don’t like to see it. Not really a trigger, though, more like a strong squick I guess.

CHARACTER DETAILS:

NAME: Gideon Prewett

AGE: 30 (which is I think what was put down by Fabian’s mun and which I’ll go with as well, considering they’re twins)

GENDER, PRONOUNS, and SEXUALITY: 

Cis-male, he/him, bisexual. – His own gender identity isn’t something Gideon thinks about a lot. He’s always felt comfortable as a man. He is aware of the imbalance of power and influence between genders that many in his society view as natural and even necessary.He’s aware that he has definitely won the privilege lottery and tries to be mindful of it. But he is very sure of his gender identity and very comfortable the way he is.

His sexuality isn’t exactly a secret, at least he’s never made an effort to hide it. However, he also never actually came out to anyone. He only assumed people knew and if they had an issue with who he chose to go out with, they’d tell him directly. He’s had very few relationships in his life – he’s dated exactly one woman and one man. Both were relatively long-term relationships and he never treated one of his partners differently than the other. It never occurred to him, that he should have to come out to his family first before introducing them to a partner that wasn’t a woman.

BLOOD STATUS: Pure-Blood

HOUSE ALUMNI: Gryffindor – Gideon ultimately ended up a Gryffindor, if only just because Fabian came first in the alphabet and was therefore sorted before him. When Gideon put on the hat, it took an awfully long time debating whether Gryffindor or Ravenclaw was the better fit for him. In the end, Gideon wasn’t going to be separated from his twin, and asked to be put in Gryffindor.  

ANY CHANGES: None

CHARACTER BACKGROUND:

PERSONALITY: 

Gideon has always been known as the clever one, the over-achiever, the workaholic. From the moment he was born he was told he was special. The first-born son, the heir. He was never just a child he was the projection of his father’s high expectations. And Gideon, in his eagerness to please, did everything he could to fulfil them all. He was expected to perform exceptionally in school – he did. He was expected to find a well-respected job right out of school and make his father proud – he did. He was expected to always be well-mannered and courteous – he was. Expectations are the common thread in his life and Gideon lives in constant fear of being unable to fulfil them.

If it weren’t for Fabian and his good influence, Gideon would likely be a tight-lipped bore who wouldn’t know fun if it punched him in the face. It was definitely growing up with Fab and his sometimes outrageous ideas that led to Gid not tightening up to become exactly what their father wanted him to be. He’s still the ‘somewhat more responsible twin’ and more level-headed than his brother. After all, someone has to make sure they get out of whatever his brother cooks up alive. But Gideon, too, can let loose. In fact, he himself has been the instigator of trouble more than once during their time at Hogwarts and he has always had quite a talent for pyrotechnics. Yet, he somehow mostly managed to escape the consequences of their trouble-making. After all, he was the good boy.

As the oldest of three taking responsibility for others comes naturally to Gid. He enjoys being a source of safety and comfort to his friends and family and will offer his care to anyone who might need it. Helping others is something he’s good at, accepting or asking for help himself not so much. He’d rather be someone elses anchor than admit that he, too, is struggling. In offering himself up like this, he often takes on more than he can handle and it’s only a matter of time until he has no energy left for himself and it will all become too much to bear.

A lot of Gideon’s personality is exclusively outwardly. He’s learned how to present himself, how to hold his head up high and smile just right so that people believed what he wanted them to. That he is sure of himself, that he has all the answers, that he is unafraid and doesn’t falter. Ever. Gideon has been taught to be a leader, that he should be someone others can look up to and trust. That’s all he wants to represent and yet, most of the time he doesn’t even trust himself.

While he’s generally warm and kind towards his friends, Gideon suffers from haphephobia and will never initiate touch himself. It isn’t something he advertises however so he will bear it and suffer through a hug or a hand touching his own simply for the sake of not appearing callous or impolite. The only people he freely allows and even welcomes touch from are his siblings, young children and occasionally, his father. Those who have known him for a few years now would know that he used to be different, used to freely hug people even if they were only fleeting acquaintances. This change in his demeanour is a more recent one. But whatever has caused it is likely something only Gideon knows.

Gideon is afraid. Afraid of failing, of losing control, of his own inadequacy. He hides it well behind reassuring words and carefree smiles and an off-hand joke or two. But the crippling anxiety keeps him up most nights, thoughts racing and reliving all those brief moments in which he might have made a mistake. Any mistake, small as it may be is a failure on Gideon’s part, a fuck-up that if not immediately resolved, will haunt him for weeks. Everything he does needs to be perfect he needs to be perfect or else everyone he loves will turn away from him.

Conflict and communication isn’t something Gideon is good at. He can be judgmental and rash at times, and has a habit of making other people’s issues his own to the point where he oversteps. And if he’s confronted about his mistakes he recoils and falls silent instead of facing the problem and fixing his mistake with an apology. This, too, comes from a place of fear. Rather than resolving an argument with a conversation, any criticism sends Gideon into another spiral of paralysing anxiety and obsessing over his mistakes. The fact that people are willing to forgive and move on after he finally got himself together enough to apologise baffles him every time.

BRIEF OVERVIEW OF FAMILY: 

Through everything he’s experienced he’s always had Fabian at his side and without him, Gideon is sure he would have drowned long ago. They’re a unity. Most people know them only as GidandFab, not as two separate people even though the twins couldn’t be more different. Fabian may be the only person who can see through all of Gideon’s bullshit and calls him out on it. He’s the only one Gideon will admit his fears too, will admit to being scared at all to. Fabian is the one person Gideon can stand being touched by without his stomach twisting into knots. He’s protective of both his siblings, but Fabian more than anyone else. He is after all his other half. It may be selfish, but Gideon would always put his twin’s safety and well-being before that of any other person no matter who they are. The idea of losing his brother is worse than anything he could ever imagine and with the war, that fear is ever-present.

He has nothing but respect for admiration for his little sister. Molly is the strongest person Gideon knows and oftentimes he wonders how she does it all – the war, being a mother and caring for so many others who need it all while maintaining an energy level that is almost superhuman. More than once he’s offered to move her and her family to a safe location out of the country, at least until the war is finished. But she always refuses. And he really cannot blame her knowing, that he himself would do the exact same thing if their roles were reversed. But it is another heavy load to carry to keep her and her family safe and out of harms way. Gideon knows however, that it would be pointless to argue with her and he respects her wishes.

His relationship with his parents has always been a complicated one. It was easier while his mother was still alive, but he could never shake the feeling that he was treated differently than his siblings. Was granted more privileges but at the same time judged much harsher. He never doubted the love his parents had for him, but especially with his father he often felt like he had a much harder time getting his approval than Fabian or Molly did. Oftentimes, his father’s affection towards him was tied to Gideon’s own achievements and as he grew older, the expectations also got higher and the praise grew sparse. And that, even now as a grown man of 30, is really all Gideon wants – his father’s praise and approval.

But maybe also because he was the oldest, and because his father, despite the glory days of the noble house of Prewett being long forgotten, still held on to those last shreds of their aristocratic origins, Gideon was privy to knowledge and insight into his family’s affairs his siblings weren’t. His father was always honest with him, answering all of Gideon’s many questions truthfully and never sugar-coating how badly their financial situation or the political climate were. While his siblings were blissfully ignorant, Gideon knew just how much harder it was with every passing year to maintain their old family seat. How much his mother worried about money and his father about the looming war.

Gideon wouldn’t have expected it in the least, but his mother’s death brought him and his father closer together. Both of them dealt with their grief on their own and in silence, preferring to look after Fabian and Molly than giving themselves time to heal. In a way, Gideon thinks, his father leaned on him during those first few months, letting Gideon deal with anything that had to be settled - the will, the belongings, even the funeral. They have a silent agreement nowadays, to protect Fabian and Molly first and see that they make it through the war. Even if it’s at the cost of their own lives.

OCCUPATION: 

Unspeakable and Magic Researcher at the Department for Mysteries – Back at Hogwarts Gideon was never satisfied to only repeat a spell until he knew it by heart and perfected the performance, he wanted to know what was underneath. How did it work, who had invented it, where did magic come from? Those were the questions that kept him up and in the library long after most other students had long retired to their common rooms. He wanted to know the origins and mechanics of magic so he could one day be one of the people who invented new spells. Already during his time at school, Gideon started to experiment with words and movements to see if he couldn’t invent some himself. Without the proper training and tutoring however, little of what he attempted was actually successful. Most of the time nothing ever happened. However, there was one incident in which the 6th year boys’ dormitory in the Gryffindor tower almost caught on fire after which Gideon was prohibited from any further unsupervised experimentation.

After graduating Gideon managed to get into a Ministry research program for experimental magic. The first couple of years barely paid him anything but he learned more than he ever had in all his years of Hogwarts together. After completing his training, Gideon worked on a team that created household spells for a while. Not exactly what he’d dreamed of, but it paid the bills. It wasn’t until a year ago that one of his former instructors approached him with an offer: there was to be a new division within the Department of Mysteries and Gideon was to be a part of it. When he heard what exactly this division was researching, Gideon was filled with unease. After all, by this time the war was already raging all around him. And what he was offered was nothing short of a placement as a researcher for the newly created Division for Experimental Magic Warfare. Gideon was uncertain but the higher-ups in the Order were quick to make the decision for him. Gideon was to accept the job. He was to do as he was told and keep his head down. And he was to report back with everything he worked on that appeared suspicious.

It’s a dangerous situation Gideon has gotten himself into. The smallest mistake could raise suspicion, and it’s almost certain that sooner or later he will encounter his own work in the battlefield fired right at him or someone he loves. He can only hope that when that happens, he will be one step ahead.

ROLE WITHIN THE ORDER/THOUGHTS ABOUT THE ORDER: 

Mid-Level - It wasn’t Gideon who was first approached to join the Order but his brother. Yet, wherever one twin went, the other would soon follow and so they joined together. Gideon was initially much more doubtful than his brother. Unlike Fabian, Gideon never had any dreams of heroism and adventure – he’s much too pragmatic for that. He joined because he was unsatisfied with how the Ministry handled the threat. He believed in a much more offensive and less careful approach and the Order seemed to have the same ideas.

He started out as a simple foot soldier, of little use off the battlefields due to his lack of influence and insight. Only recently has he felt like he’s truly been contributing to the cause as a spy within the Department of Mysteries with access to some of the Ministry’s most secret research. He’s in more danger than he’s ever been before, but it also fills him with a sense of pride. More than anything else he wants to contribute something meaningful, something that might change their outlook on the war.

As someone with a somewhat large family Gideon has everything to lose and he knows that with everything he does and every risk he takes he puts them at risk as well, especially his brother. It makes him only more determined to fight.

Gideon doesn’t mind being a criminal and a vigilante. His involvement in the Order is nothing he’d ever publicly advertise of course, and he keeps his true opinions about how he thinks this war should be fought carefully to himself. But in all honesty, as offensive as they are, they’re still not offensive enough. In these times law or honour don’t matter anymore, only survival and victory. An eye for an eye.

SURVIVAL: 

How is he still alive? Gideon doesn’t know. He shouldn’t be at this point. While he’s always thinking on his toes and carefully calculating his next three steps he’s not one to shy away from the frontlines or stick to the back on the battlefield. He should have died three battles ago. Sometimes he thinks it must be dumb luck. Or his unwillingness to die without his brother by his side. He refuses to go down without him and since Fab is somehow still alive so is he.

In public Gideon keeps his head down. Plays the role of loyal ministry employee and keeps his opinions to himself. It’s what’s wisest and what the Order asked of him to ensure he’d be able to keep this job.

Gideon has a small flat in Central London which he loves dearly as it’s been his first flat ever but he’s appeared on the Death Eaters’ radar one too many times and the longer he procrastinates moving somewhere safer the more dangerous it gets. Still, Gideon needs stability and the idea of moving every couple weeks isn’t one he finds too appealing. Yet he can’t put it off much longer if he wants to continue to stay alive.

RELATIONSHIPS: 

His brother has been and always will be the most important person in Gideon’s life. But neither of them can deny that their relationship has been strained for a while now. Sometimes Gid has a hard time reading his twin. Sometimes he can’t get a hold on him for days on end, throwing him into another spiral full of anxiety and panic and ‘what if something’ s happened’s. He’s well aware of his brother’s self-destructive habits but as of yet unable to take action without greatly invading Fabian’s privacy and breaking his trust. What he can do is to silently watch over him and hope to be able to prevent any greater damages in time. Gideon isn’t an idiot; he knows that he’s co-dependent to the point of potentially suffocating Fabian with his own inability to survive without his twin. And maybe, he tells himself, that inability is even what caused Fab’s drinking in the first place. Nevertheless, he’s determined to fix their relationship – and his brother – so they can go back to the way they had been before the war.

With the majority of his friends Gideon has taken the role of caretaker and substitute big brother. It’s what he knows, what he’s good at, what fuels him. He honestly enjoys being a shoulder to lean on and a source of strength and comfort. His door is always open, and he has an extra set of blankets and fresh sheets ready at all time just in case someone might need a place to stay for a night or more. He’s the kind of friend that will remember you mentioning your favourite brand of biscuits in an off-hand comment and then keep a pack in his cupboard just in case you might decide to visit. And at the same time, he’s the kind of person who knows everything about his friends but at the same time gives little information about himself. He’ll always answer ‘I’m great, thank you’ to a question after his well-being and make it sound honest enough. He rarely reveals more than superficial details of his personal life preferring to keep the focus away from himself in fear of someone digging a little too deep and realising that he is in fact far from the confident, charming man he pretends to be. People need him to be a rock and a safe haven, not just another construction side.

The war has forced them all both closer together and further apart it seems. Trust is dangerous these days, letting anyone too close could hurt you terribly in the best case scenario and get you killed if you’re not careful. And at the same time the trauma of the war has them huddling together and looking for comfort now more than ever. Gideon is almost obsessively cautious about letting new people into his life, but has made a habit of checking up on everyone of his friends and fellow Order members, even those who are just fleeting acquaintances, at least once a week. He keeps track of people, has to know where everyone is to sleep at least a few hours every night. As scattered as they are and with the lifes they’re living, someone has to see that no one’s left behind. It’s a reassurance for himself, and just maybe also for the others to know, that if someone fails to check in, if someone goes missing, he’ll notice.

OOC EXPLORATION:

SHIPS/ANTI-SHIPS: 

Difficult. Gideon isn’t someone who will just flirt and jump into bed with someone. He needs to feel secure and safe first before he can even start opening up to someone. His last relationships have always crumbled under his inability to share and express his true emotions very well. His aversion to being touched isn’t helping much either. A relationship and someone he can trust and confide in is something Gideon desperately craves. But any attempts at getting closer to someone have always failed in the past few years and it’s weighing hard on him.

In his day to day life Gideon is someone who needs to be in charge always. Not being in control is something that fills him with crippling anxiety. And yet, in a relationship, giving up that control is exactly what seeks. He want’s someone else to take charge and just let him float safely for a bit. But communicating those needs isn’t something he’s ever done before.

I don’t have any anti-ships for Gideon. I will literally ship anything if the chemistry is there and it makes sense. For some reason I do like the idea of him having a bit of a crush on Kingsley Shacklebolt, which is probably simply projecting because I have a crush on Kingsley. He has that calm aura. I think Gideon would be very attracted to that.

WHAT PRIVILEGES AND BIASES DOES YOUR CHARACTER HAVE? 

Gideon is a white cis-male pure-blood. He’s pretty much as privileged as they come in their society. And while his parents raised him and his siblings with constant reminders that their blood status isn’t worth anything and that it’s their character that defines them as people, they were far from perfect. Growing up Gideon couldn’t help but notice that at least his father treated him differently than his siblings and that being the oldest son but him under more scrutiny but also at a certain advantage. He often wondered if he was taken more seriously simply because he was the first-born.

It was mostly his sister Molly who taught him to think about his own privileges by sharing her own perspective with him and ridiculing him whenever she thought he was acting like a ‘typical man’. He’s grateful for it and tries to be more aware of his own actions and mannerisms but doesn’t always succeed.

He’s wary of werewolves and other shapechangers but only because he knows way too little about them. He doesn’t find them revolting or disgusting, he’s simply careful. If he were to find out about a friend of his being a werewolf, he’d be surprised if not shocked and have a million questions, but ultimately it wouldn’t change anything about them as a person.

Gideon has never had a long enough conversation with a muggle to have anything other than curiosity for their life-style. Again, he doesn’t know enough about them to form an informed opinion. But he knows that killing people simply because of their culture differing from your own is all kinds of wrong and horrible and he will not stand for it.

WHAT ARE YOU MOST LOOKING FORWARD TO? 

To be completely honest, I wasn’t actively looking for a roleplay. Amos, who currently plays Fabian, and I used to play the twins for a long time in other rpgs and somehow clicked from the very beginning. He very subtly advertised this rpg to me and told me how great it was which made me curious. After checking it out I really wanted to join because I love the concept a lot and also play Gideon again. What I’m especially looking forward to is the outlook. In Canon marauder rpgs the twins always due of course so you’re ultimately playing a doomed character. This can be great for those of us (and I’m definitely one of these people) who love nothing more than pain and angst. But I found that I’m really excited and curious about playing Gideon with a chance of a future. It gives the whole experience a sense of hope.

PLOT DROP IDEAS: 

My main goal is always character development through the differing relationships Gideon has with other characters. How are the people around him going to influence him, how is he going to influence them? This is very general of course. More specifically, I’d like to see people digging deeper and getting under Gideon’s skin, be it in a positive or negative way. I’d like to undo him.

I’d also like to see how the situation at the Department of Mysteries develops, if Gideon is able to withstand the pressure, if he’s able to continue flying under the radar and gather information without being found out. And I’d like the Order to put more pressure on him, maybe demand more of him as it continues. I want to see how long it takes before he breaks down.

ANYTHING ELSE? I hope you’re on board and want me because this is a really cool place J

EXTRA FOR NON-BIO CHARACTERS:

This section is only if you are applying for a character that does not yet have a biography written (i.e. a character not listed on the character page). Essentially, any Marauders Era character can be applied for, so long as they can realistically fit into the plot and add substance to the roleplay! It may be a good idea to send a message to the main before you do this so we are all on the same page.

PAST: Gideon never doubted that he was lucky. He had a happy childhood, a loving family and, most importantly, a twin. He never quite understood how singletons could function properly but then, they never knew what they were missing either. Growing up Gideon was, in most respects, the epitome of a good boy. He fulfilled most of his parents’ expectations – worked hard in school, got good grades and, as far as they knew, rarely got into trouble. Back then he was carefree, blissfully ignorant of the tension building and the looming war. As he grew older and more aware of the issues so deeply rooted within the society he called his own, he found that he couldn’t just turn his head and pretend not to see the injustice many of his classmates suffered through on a daily basis. Gideon knew he had to use his own privilege to take a stand, he just didn’t know how. As much as he tried to help out and speak up, nothing he did ever felt like it was enough. It wasn’t until his brother was recruited by the Order and simply dragged him along with him, that he found a way to truly make an impact.

PRESENT: After graduating, Gideon’s curiosity and dedication secured him a spot in a training program for magical research and from there on brought him further and deep into the Department of Mysteries where he researches new ways of magic currently unheard of. Every day brings new risks and challenges and the fear of being found out as a spy for the Order is his constant companion. It’s what he wanted, though, isn’t it? He makes a difference. The intelligence he’s gathering is valuable and the research he’s able to do with the resources he wouldn’t have anywhere else could potentially aid the Order in the war. At the same time, he never knows who he’s actually working for. He can feel the pressure of countless expectations and responsibilities piling up and he knows, it’s only a matter of time until he’ll break under the weight.

FC CHOICES: Top choice: Sam Heughan. Other choices: James McAvoy, Sam Claflin

[masterweaverx]

The Familial Blooper Reel

"Ladies and gentlemen," Yang proclaimed with a smile, "we have arrived in Argus."

"Argus!" Ruby gasped.

"Argus!" Weiss cried.

"Argus!" Blake exclaimed.

"It's only a model," Maria grumbled.

"Hush," Oscar admonished.

Qrow chuckled. "On second thought, let's not go to Argus. Tis a very silly place."

Yang rolled her eyes as the entire group burst into laughter. "Yeah, yeah, classic sketch. Come on, we need a serious take, guys, I've had my butt on this bike all day!"

Oscar looked down at his script. "So, in this scene, you glomp me."

"Yep!" said Nora brightly. "It'll be fun!"

"...can I get a stunt double?"

"Oh come on, I'm not that bad!"

Various hums of consideration came from around them.

"I'm not!" Nora protested. "Really, I'm not--" She looked around for any sign of support.

"We can't get you a stunt double right now," the director said, "but we can get you a bluemat and up your hazard pay."

"Alright, I can live with that."

Nora threw up her hands. "I AM NOT THAT BAD!"

"We should probably start looking for a ship," Blake mused, not catching the uncomfortable look Nora and Ren shared.

"Start looking?" Yang laughed. "Okay, so we've got Whiterose, Ladybug, Enabler, Monochrome, Freezerburn, Bumblebee, Nora's Arc, Martial Arcs, Boop, Lancastor, Sugar Rush, Crimson Lotus, White Knight, Nordic Winter, White Lotus, Dark Knight, Thundercats, Ninjas of Love, Dragon Slayer, Pink Lemonade, Sunflowyr--"

Ruby sighed as Yang inhaled deeply. "No no," she said, holding a hand out to Maria, "let her get it out of her system."

"--Rose Garden, Snow Pines, Deadly Nightshade, Summer Sun Harvest, Compost King, Valhalla, Lotus Garden, Moonshine, Twin Reaper, White Russian, Nightcap, Phoenix, Jaundice, Hammered, Paper Cranes, and that's just with the people here who were in prior seasons taking two to a ship!" Yang finished with a grin.

"Cute," Blake said with a flat look. "Let me rephrase. We should probably start looking for a vessel capable of taking us across the sea."

"And stop looking at the stupid fan memes," Weiss added.

"But the stupid fan memes are the best part!" Yang whined, still grinning.

Adrian pulled himself up onto the couch Blake was sitting on, eyeing her curiously.

Blake glanced at him as he rose to his feet and wobbled across the cushions. "Uh... hey. What... what are you doing?"

"Hrglm," he explained, pointing at her.

Blake's ears flattened. "Yeeeeeah, I have no idea what that means..."

Adrian sat down heavily, eyes wide in amazement.

"...what?" Blake's ears perked up. "What are you looking at?"

Slowly, the child rose his hands to his head.

"...Oh." Blake rolled her eyes. "Yes, I have big ears on my head." She twitched them in demonstration.

Adrian twitched his own hands.

Blake quirked a brow, her ears swiveling forward.

Adrian bent his hands forward, tongue sticking out in concentration.

Blake crossed her arms. Her ears, pointedly, folded back.

"Hrrnmmm..." Adrian, after some thinking, managed to put his hands flat on his head.

A sly grin began to grow on Blake's face. "Hm." One ear rose up.

Adrian blinked. Slowly, he lifted one hand.

Blake let her other ear rise, facing sideways. Adrian, after some thought, cupped his other hand toward the table. A brief chuckle escaped Blake's lips.

"Okay, let's kick it up a notch."

She let an ear bend so it was perpendicular to her head--a bit of a strain, but possible. Adrian managed to bend his wrist to match.

Blake stretched her ears so that their tips touched--just barely. He found mimicking that to be easy.

Very slowly, Blake folded her ears back. Adrian was mimicking her action when suddenly they shot up to full height, and he squeaked as he brought his hands back up.

She began to rotate one ear back and forth so it was rowing through the air, while the other twitched side to side like a metronome. He stared in fascination, trying desperately to match her actions with his hands--

"Are you two having fun?"

Blake jumped, looking behind her at the smirking Yang. "Wh--! No. Well, maybe he is. I'm just, you know, he's here, it keeps him entertained--"

Yang glanced at Adrian, who had put his hands up straight when her ears perked up. "Yeah, I guess they're easily amused at that age."

Blake rolled her eyes. "Come on, you know I don't do kids."

"Mmmhmmm."

She folded her ears flat, completely ignorant of Adrian putting his hands against his head. "I don't! This is just a coincidence!"

"Mmmmmmmmmhmmmmmmmmmmm."

Blake glanced back at Adrian, who still had his hands flat on his head. She unfolded her ears and sighed when he put his hands up. "Now look what you made me do, you made me look ridiculous in front of my costar."

"Mblrgl?"

"Look, just..." Blake reached out, paused halfway, and put her hands on the cushion. "Hands down. Okay? Hands down."

"Yeah, you're never going to be able to convince him to do that," Yang said casually. "You need to give him something else to focus on."

Blake turned to her. Her gaze dropped to her metal arm. She glanced up at Yang's face, eyes pleading.

Yang sighed. "Only for you. Hey kiddo!" She waved a golden hand. "Look at the flashy lights!"

Adrian's eyes went wide when he saw the indicator lights on Yang's arm flicker on and off.

"So, Saphron." Blake looked over at the woman curiously. "You're the only Arc living here?"

"Yep! Moved out the second I could. Jaune and I are the only two living away from home." Saphron smiled fondly, her voice taking on a teasing lilt. "I guess he just wanted to be like his big sis."

Jaune rolled his eyes. "I, uh... hrrm..."

"Awww..." Saphron pinched his cheek. "~You didn't de-ny iiiiit!~"

Jaune pushed the hand away, which led to Saphron pushing back, which led to a little slapfight--that ended abruptly when she leaned back with a yelp.

"Oh geeze--" Jaune pulled his hands back, leaning forward. "I'm sorry, are you okay?!"

"Those are metal gauntlets, bro, soft slaps! Soft!"

"I am so so sorry--"

"It's fine, it's..." Saphron groaned. "Ow. Okay, I'm going to have somebody look at this, I'll be back for the next take..."

"We should probably start looking for a ship," Blake mused, not catching the uncomfortable look Nora and Ren shared.

"So where have you guys been staying?" Oscar asked Jaune.

"Uh.... heh, um..."

"There you are!" called a woman from across the street, waving to the group.

Yang turned around and gasped dramatically. "IT'S ME FROM THE FUTURE!"

Blake groaned. "Come on, take this seriously! I don't want to be stuck doing this scene the whole day!"

"And then, I dragged the Nevermore up the cliff so fast that when I got to the top..." Ruby spread her hands. "Its head flew clean off! Pop!"

Adrian gasped.

"I know! I was surprised too, but I hid it. I turned around with an epic pose."

Weiss rolled her eyes. "And then the director yelled at you for breaking an expensive piece of puppetry, and we had to swap out the Grimm hordes with the White Fang extras until the studio gave us a bigger budget for the season 2 finale."

"Oh come on, that is so not my fault! And they ended up using that take anyway!"

"I was looking forward to fighting the Petra Gigas. But who ends up fighting it? Team RNJR, that's who!"

"Hey, you got to take out that Lancer nest."

"I got to stand in a half-set and point my sword out at a greenscreen."

"But we did have that traintop fight with the Manticores and the Chimera."

"Yeah," Weiss conceded, "that was pretty fun. But it's called a Sphinx."

"It was clearly a chimera!" Ruby protested. "With the tail and... whatever." She turned back to Adrian. "Anyway, so that's how we filmed the initiation scenes. Do you want to hear about how we shot the fight with the Paladin?"

Adrian nodded. "Rgmrl!"

"And you're sure it's alright if we stay with you?"

Saphron smiled at Weiss's question. "Of course! We're happy to house Huntsmen and Huntresses."

"You all risk so much to keep people like us safe," Terra affirmed. "It's the least we can do. Especially for an elite Huntsman like yourself." She gave Qrow a disapproving frown. "Although I will say I was surprised to learn you had students helping you. Is that even... legal?"

Ruby gave Qrow a look. When he didn't respond, she elbowed his arm.

"Uh, of course. Think of it as an extended training... thing. Trust me, I..." He paused. "...have totally forgotten my line here, so I'm just going to level with you, these kids are the stars of the show and I'm just a cocky old guy who they put up with to pay the bills."

"Yep," Ruby agreed to the snickers of the others, "he's dead weight, and we only keep him around to sign the legal adult stuff. That's why we're so glad we found Maria."

"They took one look at my resume and they had to have me," Maria proclaimed. "Of course it's still a probationary period, but I've already increased their effectiveness by seventy percent."

"The only, hee, problem we're having is accommodations," Yang added. "We, haha, we don't have her favorite flavor of nuts."

Maria sighed sadly. "Such good kids, they can't be blamed for the economy."

Terra nodded somberly. "Oh, I understand, I completely understand."

"We should probably start looking for a ship," Blake mused, not catching the uncomfortable look Nora and Ren shared.

"So where have you guys been staying?" Oscar asked Jaune.

"Uh.... heh, um..."

"There you are!" called a woman from across the street, waving to the group.

Yang narrowed her eyes. "Is that...?"

Jaune cringed just a bit, but smiled and waved back. "Hey, Saph..."

Ruby gasped, pointing at the woman, then to Jaune, eyes darting back and forth.

Yang smirked. "Hello kiddos. Look at your sister. Now back to me. Now back to your sister, now back to me. Sadly your sister isn't me, but if she stopped using NPC-scented body wash and switched to Old Spice she could smell like me."

Weiss pinched her brow. Ruby groaned in exasperation. Nora started banging her head on a nearby lamppost.

"Look down, now back up, where are you?" Yang continued. "You're on a movie set with the sister your sister could smell like. What's in your hand, back at me, I have it. It's a cyborg arm with two tickets to that thing you love. Look again, the tickets are now flowers! Anything is possible when your sister smells like Old Spice and not an NPC. I'm on a catgirl."

"Yes you are," Blake deadpanned, "and the catgirl is not happy to have to do this scene AGAIN."

Yang leaned down, holding out her hand. "Flowers?"

"Uh..." Nora glanced back. "Guys? The baby's, uh, playing with a boom mike here..."

"Oh no." Jaune knelt down in front of Adrian. "Hey, can you give that to me? That's not a toy, you know?"

Adrian looked up at him. "Grv?"

He blinked, looking at the speakers across the room.

"Yeah, that's a microphone, it--"

Adrian held the microphone to his mouth. "Agrbo." He stared at it carefully. "Gra... bla gra."

"...yes," Jaune said. "Now. Can you give me the boom mike? We don't want to break it."

"Braga glrm narg arga nrv ragm."

Jaune sighed. "Sis? A little--"

"I've got this." Ren knelt down. "Glrg mra grrmgaa?"

"Fay!" Adrian put the boom mike down and toddled off.

"...How?" Nora demanded.

"It's a tonal language," Ren explained.

"It's literally gibberish!"

"You just need to pay more attention."

"Shut up there's food!" Ruby proclaimed, taking some sandwiches from the shared plate and handing them to the others on her couch. The others grabbed their own sandwhiches, Ruby taking a couple more, and all of them began eating. Saphron and Terra smiled at each other fondly.

Then, loudly, a song began to play. "~The vengabus is coming, and everybody's jumping--~"

Terra quickly pulled out her scroll and hit the receiver button. "Uh, hey mom! Oh, I'm fine, we're all fine, but, um, this is kind of a bad time. Yeah, sorry, you know how my brother-in-law is starring in that TV series? Well, we're cameoing, and filming right now, so... no, I get it, I get it. I'll call you back, okay? Okay. Love you too!"

She put the scroll away with an awkward smile. "Uh, are we going to have to redo the scene because of that?"

"Well," Ruby said, "probably. But that means we have to get more sandwiches, so it won't be for a while."

Weiss quirked a brow. "Vengabus?"

"Oh it used to be her favorite song," Saphron said gleefully.

"Honey--"

"She'd just get up and dance to it whenever it came on, like, hips everywhere, knees pumping--"

Terra put her face in her hands. "Oh my god."

"I'm telling you, it was a thing of beauty!" Saphron turned to her. "We've got to get you dancing again. Hey, script people! Can we write a scene with my wife dancing?"

"No!" Terra shook her head. "No, no dancing! I'm not dancing!"

[theycallmebeccawrites]

Chris & Ellie Series: Episode 16

With Tumblr holding my original writing blog @beccaheartschrisevans captive (aka flagged as explicit), I have made a secondary writing blog and may end up closing the other all together. In the meantime, I am reposting all of my stories on my new blog.

Pairing: Chris Evans x Ellie Spencer (OFC)

Rating: PG-13

Warnings: language, suggestive

Episode Summary: This episode takes place in February 2014 and is Chris making good on his bet for the Super Bowl between the Seattle Seahawks and Denver Broncos.

Disclaimer: This work of fiction is not to be reposted, used or translated without my permission.

This episode can also be read on AO3.

The Chris and Ellie series is primarily chronological.  It begins with a flash forward to 2016 and has a few other scenes in the future.  However, the majority of their story is told in chronological order starting in 2013 and going through 2017. Each episode starts with a date to help you place it within the story.

The Chris & Ellie Series Masterlist | Chris & Ellie Masterlist

Episode 15

Episode 16: Super Bowl XLVIII

February 2, 2014

The sun was already up and making its presence known around the edges of the curtains, when Ellie woke up. Not ready to get out of bed, she rolled over with the thought of trying to fall back asleep, but the idea left her when she saw that Chris was still in bed with her. He was lying on his back and had kicked away most of the covers during the night, leaving just the sheet covering the lower half of his body.

Ellie bit down on her lower lip as she fought the temptation to reach out and touch him. Looking back at the clock on her nightstand, she saw that it was already 9:30 and she knew they had a full day ahead of them, not to mention the fact that they'd been up late the night before. It was only the knowledge that her cousin would be there in an hour to pick her up for brunch and she still had to take a shower that forced Ellie from her bed and into the bathroom.

Last night, prior to them retiring to her bedroom for the night, she and Chris had worked with Scott to clean the big house for the Super Bowl party they were throwing. Not wanting a repeat of the football kick off party, Ellie had created a to do list on the way home from the bed and breakfast last weekend. Getting all of the cleaning done on Saturday, had been the first time on said list.

Unbeknownst to her, however, Chris had his own list and getting her out of the house was on the top of it. It hadn't been until last night that he had let her know that he had other plans for how Super Bowl Sunday would go. He'd lured her from the big house for a date night of pizza, beer and a movie in the guesthouse.

It wasn't until after the movie had ended that he had informed her that while he was putting the finishing touches on the party, she would be having brunch with her cousin. She'd hammered him with questions, after that, but he had refused to give her any more information. Not even after she'd given him a mind-blowing blow job. In the end, he had distracted her from the plans for Super Bowl Sunday by giving her a couple fantastic orgasms that had left her legs feeling like jelly and her body beautifully sore.

Even now, as she washed in the shower, she came across tender bits of flesh where he'd dug his fingers into her a little too hard while in the throes of passion. She didn't mind though, especially not after she'd played doctor when they'd gotten home last Sunday and had tended to all the scratches she'd left on his back from their various rounds of lovemaking.

Last night had been the first time they'd slept together since they'd left the bed and breakfast. Between work, hanging with Scott and everything else, there just hadn't been time for more than a few minutes here or other together and neither of them had wanted to rush anything so they'd waited.

Shutting the water off, Ellie squeezed as much water out of her hair as she could with her hands then reached out and grabbed her towel. She dried off and then used the towel to get more water out of her hair. Since she didn't have time to dry it completely, she opted for a side braid that made it easier to deal with.

When she stepped out of the bathroom, a few minutes later, Chris was gone, but he'd left a note sitting on the end of her bed.

Morning. We'll talk when you get up to the big house.

She quickly got dressed, opting for a pair of jeans and a nice shirt, knowing she'd change into her Seahawks shirt later. When she got to the kitchen in the big house, she found Scott and Chris eating donuts. Shaking her head, she grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge and opened it.

"Don't judge us," Scott said his mouth full of jelly donut. "We need the sugar to get everything done this morning."

"I know and I appreciate your hard work," Ellie said with a smile. "I'll make sure we don't take too long at brunch."

"Don't hurry yourselves," Chris replied. "I already told your cousin that you can't be back here until after one o'clock."

Ellie froze with the water bottle almost to her lips. Lowering it, she looked at Chris and said, "But it's my party."

"Yes, it's your party, but I'm the host," Chris argued. "You're the guest of honor. Which means, all you do is show up."

"But the food -"

"It's being catered."

"The decorations -"

"Scott showed me where you've been stashing your Seahawks decorations and we have plenty of help to put it up and it's not just Scott and myself doing the decorating."

"So what am I supposed to do after brunch?" Ellie asked him as the buzzer for the front gate went off.

"I'll go let Phoenix in," Scott offered as he got up and all but ran from the room.

"Knowing who you'll be with, maybe manicure and pedicure? Or shopping?" Chris suggested. "You have your credit card, you can use that."

"What will your accountant think of that?" Ellie asked. "It's not exactly a household expense."

"It's making good on a bet," Chris replied with a shrug. "And I trust you not to go too crazy."

"I still don't like this," Ellie told him as they heard Scott greet someone. "Why can't I -"

"Hi Izzy," Chris said, looking at something over Ellie's shoulder.

"Don't try and dis -" Ellie started, but spun around when she heard her sister say, "Hey Chris."

Upon seeing her sister, Ellie squealed and ran over to her. She wrapped her arms around Izzy and asked, "What are you doing here?"

"I'll explain in the car," Izzy replied. "Come on, we're going to be late."

Speechless, Ellie took her purse that Chris held out to her and followed Izzy out to the car where Phoenix was waiting for them.

"Surprise!" Phoenix sang when they got in and closed the doors.

It was over brunch that Ellie learned that Izzy's boss had given her the day after the Super Bowl off after discovering that she was from the Northwest and had grown up a Seattle Seahawks fan. With football as popular as it was in Texas, her boss had made the offer in case she'd wanted to go home to watch the game with her family and friends. She'd taken him up on the offer, obviously, and had come to LA to be with Ellie upon discovering, from Scott, what Chris was planning.

Despite both her sister and cousin seemingly in on Chris's plan, Ellie couldn't get either of them to tell her what he else he had up his sleeves. Thankfully, they'd both kept her distracted after brunch; first, dragging her to a walk-in nail salon to get manicures and pedicures and then dragging her to an outlet mall to shop. They even managed to talk her into buying a couple nice dresses and new undies to wear under them.

By the time they got back to the house, it was nearly two o'clock and Izzy offered to take Ellie's stuff to the guest house as they got out of the car. Ellie accepted the offer and followed her sister in the house, freezing in the doorway when she saw that Chris had found more Seahawks and Super Bowl decorations than she had. He and Scott had hung decorations in the entry hall with arrows pointing towards the kitchen.

Following the signs, Ellie went into the kitchen and found the wives of Chris's former roommates hard at work on the food for the party. She vaguely recalled that one of the women owned a catering company, but couldn't remember which one it was. She greeted the women with a hello and got a chorus of greetings in returned.

"He's downstairs," Kady told her.

"Thanks," Ellie replied. She went down the basement stairs and smiled when she reached the bottom. Chris had gotten a little carried away with the decorations, covering nearly every open space on the walls with something Seattle Seahawks or their colors, but she loved it. He'd even gotten Daisy a pink Seahawks jersey and put her in it for the reveal. (Later, upon looking closer, she would spot a few hidden Patriots items in the room.)

"What do you think?" Chris asked, appearing at her side.

"I love it," Ellie replied, turning to look at him. "Thank you, Chris."

"You're welcome," he said, pulling her into a hug. Taking advantage of the fact that they were alone for a few seconds, he dipped his head and pressed his lips against hers.

Ellie leaned her body into his and fisted his shirt with her hands, losing herself in the kiss until they were rudely interrupted by their siblings.

"And welcome to my life," Scott said in an exaggerated stage whisper to Izzy.

"Shut up, they're cute," Izzy replied, winking at Ellie, who was blushing as she and Chris parted.

"Just wait, it gets old quickly," Scott told her as he pretended to gag.

Chris rolled his eyes and pointed to the stairs. "Go find something to do other than harassing us," he told his brother.

Scott saluted Chris with his middle finger and then raced up the stairs.

"The others will be here soon," Chris told Ellie. He nodded his head towards the stairs and added, "I'm going to go make sure Scott is helping and not sampling."

"I heard that," Scott yelled from upstairs, his words muffled in a way that suggested his mouth was full.

Chris rolled his eyes and went upstairs.

"You go get ready," Izzy told her sister as they heard the brothers picking on each other. "I'll go supervise."

It took Ellie less than twenty minutes to change into her favorite Seahawks shirt, pull her hair into a messy bun and cleanup after Daisy in the backyard. By the time she returned to the big house, Chris's friends had arrived as had Phoenix's husband, Kurt, and their one-year-old son, Isaiah.

Most of the guests had chosen to wear something in a Seahawks color, a nod to Ellie winning the bet that she and Chris had made on the first day of the season. Even Scott had changed into a bright green polo shirt.

Then Ellie spotted Chris, who was talking to one of his friends. He had changed, too, from a black shirt into a navy blue Patriots shirt. She made her way towards him and his friend saw her before Chris did. The friend muttered something to Chris before winking at Ellie and moving away.

"Nice shirt," she told Chris, sarcastically.

"It's got a 12 on it," Chris said with a shoulder shrug.

"Not the right kind of 12," Ellie replied, crossing her arms. "And definitely not the right team."

"There was nothing in our bet that required me to wear a Seahawks shirt," Chris reminded her with a big grin.

Ellie narrowed her eyes at him and let out of a huff. "We'll add it next time," she told him. "You'll look really good in Action Green."

Turning on her heel, she made her way over to baby Isaiah, who launched himself into her arms as soon as she was close enough.

With so many people, it didn't take them long to get the food downstairs and setup on the folding tables that Chris had rented for the day. Coolers were brought in from outside with ice cold beer and soda in them.

They all visited during the pre-show, quieting in respect as the national anthem was sung, and had mostly found their seats by the time the coin toss ceremony began. They all chuckled as the special guest, Joe Namath, flipped the coin early and the head referee snatched the coin out of the air so he could finish explaining the rules. A minute later, the real toss happened and Ellie pumped her first when the Seahawks won it.

As the Denver Broncos lined up for their first play, following the kick off, Ellie found herself practically shoved into Chris's lap as Scott wedged himself in between her and Izzy on the couch. She was in the process of righting herself when the ball was snapped. Almost immediately, the commentators announced it was a bad snap and the pro-Seahawks crowd roared. She got her eyes on the screen just in time to see a Denver player pounce on the ball in the end zone, giving the Seahawks a 2-point safety.

"And that's how you start the Super Bowl!" Ellie exclaimed as she shared high fives with those around her. She had to nudge Chris to get him to high five her, but he did so, happy to see her happy. Turning to Scott, she punched him in the shoulder and said, "I almost missed that because of you."

"And almost took out my family jewels," Chris added from over her shoulder.

"Sorry?" Scott offered, unapologetically, his eyes focused on the Doritos commercial that was playing.

When the game came back, they watched as the Broncos kicked the ball to the Seahawks. The Broncos defensive line managed to keep the Seahawks from scoring a touchdown on the drive that followed, but gave up a field goal making the score 5 to 0.

As the first quarter continued, Denver's offense stalemated against the Seahawks and their defense gave up a second field goal, making the score 8 to 0. With another chance to score, the Broncos offense came onto the field, but gave up an interception with less than a minute left in the quarter.

The second quarter started with the Seahawks getting a touchdown and extra point off the drive that had started with the interception the quarter before. Then they picked off another pass from Peyton Manning and scored a second touchdown and extra point, making the score 22 to 0.

"How ya doing?" Chris asked Ellie as the game went to yet another commercial. "Feeling light headed yet?"

"I feel amazing," she replied, dramatically resting her head on his shoulder. "My team is kicking ass."

When the game started up again, Denver nearly coughed up at ball on the kick off, but the officials ruled that the player was down, ending the play before he lost control of the ball. (Not that Ellie agreed with the call as she cursed under her breath.) Ultimately, the Broncos were unable to score on their last drive of the first half and the Seahawks took over and killed the final minutes on the clock.

While waiting for the halftime show to start, everyone got more food or took a turn in one of the bathrooms. As Bruno Mars and the Red Hot Chili Peppers performed, they all sang along and danced, some in their seats and others where they weren't blocking anyone's view of the TV.

The third quarter started off with a bang, literally, as the Seahawks' Percy Harvin caught the ball on the kick off from the Broncos and ran it 87 yards to score another touchdown. (A play that had Ellie leaping off the couch and nearly knocking over Chris's beer in the process.) A successful extra point attempt made the score 29 to 0, Seahawks.

A failed drive for each team followed that touchdown, but Seattle got the ball back off a fumble. They scored a touchdown and extra point, several plays later, making the score 36 to 0. Denver managed to score their own touchdown, a few minutes later, and got a two-point conversion, making the score 36 to 8.

"How ya doin, champ?" Chris asked with a grin as the third quarter ended. He'd seen Ellie get excited about football, but she was ecstatic and riding an emotional high with the way the game was unfolding. Even he had to admit that the Seahawks were playing amazing, but only to himself.

"They're going to do this," Ellie said, stating the obvious. "They're going to win this mother-"

"ELLIE!" Her cousin cut her off before she could finish the rest of the word.

"Oops," Ellie said with a giggle. Leaning closer to Chris, she whispered, "They're going to win this motherfucking game."

"Yes they are," Chris agreed with a laugh.

And so they did. Denver attempted an onside kick, but Seattle recovered the ball. They scored on that drive, making the game 43 to 8. What followed were several unsuccessful drives by both teams, a fumble recovery for the Seahawks and then the final whistle.

"WE WON!" Ellie shouted as the players and coaches celebrated their Super Bowl victory on the TV. She threw herself into Chris's arms, as he stood up, and kissed him, not caring that everyone could see them. Not that he seemed to care as he kissed her back.

"Again with the kissing?" Scott asked sarcastically. He was happy that Chris had found someone like Ellie, but he couldn't help but tease his brother a bit and he knew Ellie would just roll her eyes.

Ellie was still floating on cloud nine as they all worked together to put away leftovers, making sure that everyone took something home with them to munch on later. She got lots of 'congrats' hugs as everyone began to leave, including Izzy, who was catching a flight home that night.

"Have fun tonight," her sister whispered as they hugged goodbye. "Enjoy him, I mean, yourself."

"You're awful," Ellie said with a laugh as she poked her sister in the side. "But I will."

Eventually, it was just her, Chris and Scott left in the house. She and Chris were in the kitchen doing the last of the dishes when Scott came in with a bag.

"I'll see you guys tomorrow," he announced. "I'm house sitting for a friend tonight. Thought I'd take Daisy with to keep me company?"

"Uh, sure," Ellie replied, glancing at her dog who was still rocking her Seahawks jersey. "If you're sure it's ok with your friend."

"It is," Scott assured her. "We'll be back in the morning." He grabbed Daisy's leash and opened his mouth to ask if she wanted to go on a drive, but shut it when the dog bounded towards him at the sound of her leash jangling. "I guess that's a yes from Daisy, too." He clipped the leash onto Daisy's collar.

"What about food?" Ellie asked. "And -"

"Already packed her stuff," Scott assured her. "See ya." He led Daisy out the door to the garage and Chris closed it behind them.

"Did you have something to do with that?" Ellie asked him as he turned back towards her.

"With my brother leaving? Yes. With him taking Daisy? No," Chris replied as he took the towel from Ellie's hands and tossed it onto the counter. "Let's let these air dry and go upstairs."

"What's upstairs?" she asked coyly as he pressed her back against the counter. She was reminded suddenly of a similar position she and Chris had found themselves in at the beginning of the season. At that time, he'd been picking a piece of fuzz out of her hair. This time, she knew, he was plotting how to get her out of her clothes and into his bed.

"Your private Super Bowl celebration awaits upstairs," Chris told her, his voice low and rough.

"Tell me more about this celebration," Ellie encouraged as she looked up at him.

"Well, there will be kissing, lots of kissing," Chris teased. "And a shower, but the actual shower kind, not the champagne kind -"

"Well that's disappointing," Ellie interrupted. "I've always wanted to be sprayed with champagne." Chris quirked an eyebrow at her words. "What? Haven't you?"

"I've had it done," he replied. "It's not as cool as it looks when you get it in your eyes. Or if someone takes a cork to the balls." Ellie snickered. "Ask Chucky about it next time you see him, we got a bit wild at Brock's bachelor party."

"Oh, I will," Ellie promised, making a mental note to ask. She loved hearing the stories that Chris and his friends shared, especially after they'd all had a drink or two and had loosened up a bit. They constantly tried to one up each other with their stories, which led to a lot of revelations.

"Now back to our private celebration," Chris said, taking back control of the situation. "I'm sorry to say your Seahawks shirt will not be allowed." Now it was her turn to raise an eyebrow. "It's a clothing free party."

"I've never been to a clothing free party," Ellie confessed. She made to reach for the hem of her shirt, to get the party started, but paused and looked at the door. "Are you sure Scott is gone?"

"Let's move the party upstairs, just in case," Chris suggested. "You head up, I'll lock up the house."

Ellie nodded and headed upstairs to Chris's room. She considered taking her clothes off before he got there, but decided to wait and see what he had in mind.

When he arrived a couple minutes later, he was carrying a small cooler and a picnic basket.

"What's that for?" Ellie asked with a laugh.

"It's only 8:30 and I don't plan on us leaving this room until morning," he said as he set the cooler and picnic basket on the floor by his reading chair. "I've got everything we need to keep us going tonight. Food, water and gatorade."

"Well if I'm going to be stuck with you for at least the next twelve hours, at least you brought brownies," Ellie teased, after sneaking a peek into the basket to see what he'd brought up.

"Stuck, ha," Chris replied, wrapping his arms around her waist. "You can't wait to get with all of this." He gyrated his hips in a lewd fashion against her. "Shall we get this party started then?"

"I was waiting for you, party boy," Ellie told him in silky smooth voice. She placed her hand over his heart and then slid it down his torso to the hem of his shirt. "Why don't you go first?"

"No, no," he said, shaking his head. "My mom always taught me that gentlemen let ladies go first and I'm a gentleman."

Ellie rolled her eyes, but took a step back and pulled her Seahawks shirt off, tossing it onto the floor. "Your turn."

Chris grinned and pulled his shirt over his head before adding it to the pile. He pointed at Ellie's jeans and then made an 'out of here' gesture with his right hand before he crossed his arms over his chest.

Having taken her shoes and socks off earlier, Ellie smiled as she popped the button on her jeans and drew the zipper down. She added an extra sway to her hips as she shimmed her jeans down her body. She was bent to remove her jeans when she heard the unmistakable sound of jeans falling down. Looking up, she saw that Chris was standing with his jeans pooled at his feet and wearing a pair of bright green boxer briefs.

"So, do I look as good in Action Green as you thought I would?" he asked, his hands on his hips.

Finally free of her jeans, Ellie kicked them aside and nodded her head. It was true it wasn't exactly Action Green, but it was close and she knew he'd worn them just for this moment.

"Think I'll get some action?" he asked, wiggling his eyebrows.

"Did the Seahawks just win the Super Bowl?" Ellie answered in the form of another question with an obvious answer of yes. "Maybe a bath first?"

"A bath?" Chris asked, his hands falling from his hips. "Why would we take a bath?"

"Because it's romantic?"

"A shower is faster. Not to mention part of the party plan."

Ellie rolled her eyes as she sighed. "I just washed my hair this morning, Chris. If we take a shower, I have to wear a shower cap."

"So?" he asked.

The 'so' was that her heavy duty shower cap was not attractive at all. She went into the bathroom and opened the drawer that Chris had designated for his mom and sisters bath stuff. He had given her permission, months ago, to use his soaking tub when he was gone and she had, several times. Because of that, she had put her own bath things in the drawer, including the 1970s patterned, heavy duty shower cap that she wore to keep her hair dry. It was one of the many she'd tried, over the years, that could hold all of her hair up without leaving angry red marks on her forehead.

"What in the hell is that?" Chris asked as she turned around with the hideous thing in her hands.

"My shower cap," Ellie replied with a small frown. She took a second to put it on and then looked up at him, expecting to find him looking at her with disgust, but there was a funny look on his face. "What?"

"Take off your bra and panties," he told her in a husky voice.

She eyed him as she reached behind her and unclasped her bra, rolling her shoulders forward so the straps would fall down. She pulled the fabric away from her body and dropped it onto the bathroom rug. Then she slipped her hands under the waistband of her panties and pulled them down, kicking them away. Taking a deep breath, she pushed her shoulders back and then looked up to meet Chris's eyes.

Chris sucked in an audible breath of air as he took in the voluptuous curves of her body bared before him: her full breasts, the softness of her narrow waist that flared out at her hips and her amazing ass that he could see if he looked into the mirror behind her. Two steps was all it took for him to reach her and he pulled her against him before planting a passionate kiss on her lips.

Rising to her tiptoes, Ellie weaved her hand into Chris's hair as she kissed him back, her embarrassment over her shower cap forgotten completely. Breathless, a moment later, she pulled away and lowered herself so she was standing flat footed again. "I thought we were going to take a shower first," she whispered.

"We are," Chris said, a little confused himself. It took every ounce of his willpower to step away from her and turn towards the shower. Even more to actually walk to the shower and turn it on. He was so focused on achieving the shower objective that he started to get into the shower, but was stopped when Ellie grabbed his arm.

"You're still wearing your boxers," she said with an amused giggle.

Blinking, Chris looked down and saw that, sure enough, he was still wearing his underwear. He smacked Ellie's bum lightly as she stepped into the shower still giggling over his moment. After shucking his boxer briefs, Chris joined her and enjoyed the squeal that escaped her mouth when he pressed her against the still cool tile wall. Then he made it up to her.

Once in the shower and then again in his bed.

Episode 16.5

Want to find me off tumblr? I’m @beccatheycallme on twitter. I also post my stories on AO3.

My tag list is always open, just let me know if you’d like to be added!

[lilaflyy]

Fictober Day 5 - “Take what you need.”

I really like this one because Preciosa, after Maddy, is also one of my favourite characters. I know I’m being unfair to Sunny and Drako here, but they can be my OTP for all I care, the best single characters are still Maddy and Preciosa! <3

character info: Preciosa is Draco's twin sister who lives in Milan (Italy) and is a model. She is utterly wasted in that setting though since she actually is a brilliant strategist.

PS: I was in Meran (Italy) in August for an afternoon and it was very nice there! <3 I went to the same café that I described and I also got a pistachio-hazelnut sundae while my father complained about the dangers of pistacio nuts :’D

Preciosa

Meran was a nice city if you liked small towns in the north of Italy. I personally appreciated the cafés and the view of the river Passer. The elegant designs of the street lamps combined with the white benches in between the trees on the side of the river made for a nice place to stop and sit down for a bit.

While my parents would be furious to find out how far away from Milan I was, this little day trip had still been necessary. Three hours of a car journey later and I was enjoying a well-deserved breath of fresh air and the soothing sound of the water. I did not expect anyone to recognize me, sunglasses or not since there were a lot of models in this world and while famous, I was still just one of many.

“How is it going sorella gemella?” Well, at least one person seemed to recognize me. At least there was no doubt to his identity and his presence was a welcome one. He was the reason I had travelled up here in the first place.

“Stressful but I won’t complain,” I replied without taking my view off the rushing water below. He sat down on the bench next to me, leaning his head on my shoulder.

“Won’t or can’t? Go ahead and vent if you want, I won’t tell anyone,” he offered and I both heard and felt his grin. It drew a smile out of me too.

“Maybe another time il fratellino. You’re here because of something else.”

“Doesn’t mean I can’t be a good brother.”

I let out a laugh and shook my head.

“You don’t ever change, do you?”

“More than I’d like to, but that’s not what I was getting at. I really hate to ask, you know that, but…I need a favour.”

“You know, when it would be some other rich family and I’d hear that the daughter’s brother only ever comes to see her when he needs a favour, I would say he’s exploiting her,” I said. Had he been anyone else or had I been anyone else, he would have defended himself and denied it, but my brother was my brother, so he just sat there and chuckled.

“Well, yeah. Seems like you got me after all.”

“I have always been the smarter one of us two.”

“Which is unfair, since one would think that twins each get an equal share.”

“You’re smart enough on your own accord. I’m just better.” I had missed the friendly teasing. Sarcastic comments and jabs being thrown back and forth in a loving way only siblings could. It felt like I was complete again after a long while of only existing as a half. What some people said about twins being two parts of a whole seemed true to us, which made the forced separation even worse.

“Anyway, whatever you want can surely also be discussed in a café. I just drove three hours and look forward to a sundae. I saw a nice little café with a view of the fields and mountains just at the other side of the river, so come on,” I said and stood up without another word. When he started walking beside me, I hooked my arm with his and threw him a knowing grin.

“So, I have been hearing rumours and now I’m curious if they are true.”

“If by ‘rumours’ you mean things Rylon told you, then don’t believe a word of it.”

“It is still the first time I have ever heard even remotely something along the lines of ‘Draco found a girlfriend’.” When he blushed, I knew that there had to be at least some fragment of truth at it.

“I…uh…she’s not my girlfriend,” Draco stammered and I could only hardly hold back a mischievous snicker. Teasing my brother was way more fun than strategically predicting the outcomes of social events.

“Let’s say that’s true, then what is it that makes her different from the other girls you never even glanced at?”

He sighed. “First off, she knows things she should not know and she also meddles in things that are not her business.”

“Interesting,” I said as I got the meaning behind what he was saying. So, this girl, whoever she was, knew about faeries and interfered with strictly non-human things. Daring. I had to commend her on it; to do what I could not do.

“She sounds like quite the catch. What’s the holdup?” I asked further as we crossed the bridge, which curiously seemed to be half in construction.

“First off, she hates me,” Draco said and I could not hold back the snort.

“Fair point. I like her already.”

Draco just rolled his eyes. “Secondly, she thinks of me as two separate people and can’t even remember half of our interactions most of the time.”

Well, my brother was still a hopeless idiot. Despite what he might say, he really had not changed much over the years. What he had said translated itself to me as: “I keep talking to her as ‘Phoenix’ and of course she can’t remember that, but she hates ‘Draco’.”

“Well, no offence, but that sounds reckless.”

“I never said it was an easy situation to be in. On the one hand I have to do what I have to do, but on the other hand I have to keep her out of harm’s way because she’s about to get herself killed one of these days.”

“So, you have a thing for the stubborn yet brave ones. Gotta remember that for the next time I plan to play matchmaker.”

Draco groaned. “Please not you too! Rylon is already on the case and he has even gotten himself some enthusiastic help. It would be nice to have someone who is on my side for a change.”

“It’s my meaning of life to tease you, you know that,” I said with a shrug as we neared an empty table at the café and I sat down. Draco followed suit and pushed the menu over to me.

“You don’t want anything?” I asked, knowing that his journey here had been much longer and much more stressful than mine. If anyone deserved some sweet treat, then it was him.

“I’ll order you a Latte Macchiato if you don’t choose for yourself,” I warned him while I went through the selection of sundaes.

“Sure, do that,” he said as he glanced into the distance. His mood had shifted suddenly and I knew better than to disturb him while he was like this.

We spent some time in a comfortable silence until a waitress came over to us, asking in German for our order. I replied in Italian, ordering a pistachio hazelnut sundae and, as threatened, a Latte Macchiato for my brother.

“You do know that you can get cancer from pistachio nuts, right?” Draco asked and I just rolled my eyes.

“Eating them once a year or so won’t kill me,” I replied, being used him worrying about my frail mortal body. There had been a time where we have been the same, but that was almost ten years ago when we had still been kids. Ever since he had found out about the curse and knew that the same would happen to me if my life would meet a sudden end, he had become frantic about preventing it. Under no circumstances would he let me go through the suffering he had endured. It would have been sweet if it had not become repetitive and even a little annoying over the years. It had ranged from things like ‘please don’t go skydiving or freeclimbing’ to now ‘don’t eat pistachio nuts’.

“Anyway, we are seated and I guess we both have to go back to Milan and the UK respectively soon, so better say what you came here for now before we run out of time.”

“This might sound stupid, but…I need a car.”

I had not expected that.

“You’re right, it does sound stupid. With how often you move it would really be a hassle, wouldn’t it? Except you’re now telling me that you intend to stay in England for longer than a year.”

“You know I can’t promise anything like that, but I’m planning to, yes.”

“Okay then.”

“Okay? Just like that?” Draco asked. He apparently had thought that it would have taken some more convincing to get me to agree.

“I said it to you years ago and I’m saying it again: Take what you need.” It had been something we had agreed on when he had first needed to move away. Moving was expensive and so was living in general. I had been more than willing to help him out with a little money. What he needed to live and function was honestly not more in the drop in the fortune of our family. It would not even be missed. Draco could just take whatever he needed and I would make sure that it would not be noticed. This was our deal and it had worked very well so far.

“It has to be a black and inconspicuous car though. I don’t want to draw a lot of attention,” Draco said, knowing better than to further question my motives.

“Consider it done,” I said just as the waitress with his coffee and my sundae arrived.

“Alright, so you have grilled me about Sunny, so it’s only fair that I return the favour,” Draco said as a poured a small package of sugar into his beverage.

“Her name is Sunny, huh?” I just replied with a smug grin while spooning some pistachio ice cream. Seeing Draco freeze for a moment when he realised what he had let slip was amusing to watch. He quickly regained his composure and threw me a grin back.

“So, tell me, when Rylon is so generous about giving you information about me, I wonder what else you two are talking about.” I let no emotion slip over my face but internally I panicked just a little.

“That is none of your business,” I, therefore, said, buying time to collect myself and think of something appropriate to say. Draco chuckled and I did not like the grin on his face. It was what I had dubbed his faerie-grin since it gave me an eerie and uneasy feeling.

“Really? Because just last week he said something about his girlfriend being an Italian model.”

I almost spit out my ice cream. The shock must have been written on my face for a moment though because my brother’s grin just grew. My uncaring façade slipped on a second later though and I cleared my throat.

“Tell him that I am very capable of committing a murder where one would ever find his body.”

[fantroll-purgatory]

@time-is-still-a-waste

(This is gonna be fun! I’m sorry if she seems boring though!)

She’s definitely not boring! Themeatically a tiny bit of a mess, but this blog’s got a broom and a dustpan, so we’ll sweep her right into line. From reading through the profile, different things I noticed you mention were optimism, fire/fireworks/explosives, baking, painting, carnivals, phoenixes and therefore implicitly rebirth, a soothing nature and desire to help others… 

When you list them all out like that and realize you don’t have a connecting force, it can quickly get a little cluttered-seeming, right? 

Well, I have a connecting force. One that’s going to seem like goofily obvious. She should be An Actual Circus Clown. Like not just a fun juggalo ex-cult member but someone who truly believes in the humanesque Principle Of Clownery. 

It jives with her optimism and desire to help others because she just wants to make ‘em see the sunny side, she just wants to make ‘em see the funny side! She wants to make ‘em laugh until they cry with- okay I’m done making this carebears joke no one will understand. 

Fire easily works for a circus performer, paintings and carnivals obviously work, and rebirth? Well, just take one look at Pennywise.

So now that we’ve got that idea locked in here, we can begin!

Universe: Alternia!

Name: Raizna Ashraz. 

“Raizna” was made to sound similar to the word “Raising”, which always seemed to fit her, due to her baking themes (Raising agents), and her optimistic personality (Raising spirits)! Ashraz, simply means “A bundle of torches”, which fits with the fire theme she shares with her Moirail.

I liked the Ra sound and the justification behind the first name, so I wanted to keep it, but I want to do you one better, themeatically. How about Ramkin Ashraz? 

Ramkin comes from Ramekin, a small ceramic bowl often used to bake souffles, which, as anyone knows, tend to Rise in the oven. But sometimes they can get too hot and deflate. So, y’know. A fun fact is that etymologically it can be read to mean “little battering ram.” 

Age: 8 sweeps, close to 9

Story!: Raizna never really had much luck, with things that happened to her. Being quite unusual for her caste, she (due to no fault of her own, might I add), ended up living with a rustblood, who would later become her moirail. These two, often team up, to set things on fire, but mostly just like fireworks. Preferring to be passive, she tries to hide her own nature, to try and keep her friends safe, to various degrees of success, often baking, and painting to keep up this appearance. When things just started to seem good for the troll, the meteors began falling. This time? She is refusing to think of them as the end. If it would take fighting to survive, then fighting she would do.

I don’t know what the circumstances are, but maybe I can make some recommendations based on the circus clown suggestion I made? She could’ve been a performer for a higher-ranking purple. Then she ditched the church and is here to party with a pal and try to reform himself into someone happier and more pleasant to be around. Getting her anger under control is hard when it was something so accepted as part of a wider cultural persona, but… Baking helps!

Strife Specibus: Bakingkind. (Formerly, Clubkind)

Raizna’s whole theme, was based around baking, and art. So, with a little bit of help, she worked out ways to weaponize her own baked treats.. if only mostly for the aesthetic. She has a set of various pies, filled with explosives, weights and sharp shards of glass, so whoever gets hit with them, gets a nasty (and hopefully explosive) surprise. However, if those aren’t available, she will use a rolling pin, and quite gladly bash people around the face with it.

She could still have a clubkind specibus, since she uses rolling pins as a bludgeon. I think it’s nice for her to keep it on hand. Then she can also utilize, like, juggling torches to whack with.

Fetch Modus: Painting.

Raizna, always finds painting relaxing and loves doing it whenever she can! So, whenever she goes to take something out her modus, she has to paint an image of whatever she wants to get out. The worse she paints it, the worse the condition the item comes out in.

Blood colour: Purple

Raizna, is somewhat of a classic Purpleblood, although she tries her hardest to hide it… to a degree. She still wears her self designed paint with pride. She’s ambitious, stubborn, and a bit emotionally messed up, often hiding her own disappointment with dry and self depreciating humour. However, she is still quite.. volatile, becoming extremely violent when people she cares about are threatened. 

Symbol and meaning: Being both Rage, Prospit and Purple, she’s-

TRUE CAPRICORN- THE CAPRICOUS

Honestly I think she might be better off as 

CAPRINIUS- THE CREDULOUS. 

But we’ll talk about that in a minute.

Trolltag: candiedCarnival [CC]

Candied, is used to reflect her sweet themes, and also to tie in with her sweet personality. It could also reflect her tendency to sugar coat things, that are going on in the world. Carnival, reflects the truth of herself, but also occasionally the fun of them, being places of joy and laughter, things she strives on making people feel.

how about conffectionateCarny, conffectionate is a portmanteau of confection and affectionate, which is a clever way to combine the idea of carnivalous cakes with the idea of her being a sweet person. Carny’s fairly straightforward, but it puts a singular person identifier on it instead of implying she’s the Whole carnival.

Quirk: Raizna isz szuper cheerful! Szo szhe talks with a ton of exclamation marks!  Szhe likes adding letters when szhe talks to fit with her name! It’s not like szhe’s bragging or anything! Szhe just likes how it szounds! :} 

I gotta be honest, I can’t tell where the sz comes from. She had z’s in her original names I guess? But certainly no sz’s. 

What if instead, she replaces her o’s with  °‘s? It’s a good reference to her baking interest as well as the theme of fire and heat. Maybe replace P with п? It’s derived from the greek letter Pi, which is a sly reference to Pie! And the letter name means ‘peaceful state’, which implies her interest in making things nice. 

Ex: Cheer uп, buttercuп! °r I’ll have t° thr°w a пie in y°ur face!

Special Abilities (if any): Raizna, if perhaps only by sheer nature, is ridiculously resilient . It’s incredibly hard to hurt her properly, or at least. Keep her down. But, if that isn’t counted, she’s just really good at calming people down. It’s like her words have something soothing about them. She does, however have a tendency to get increasing annoyed when doing this, almost like she’s taking their pain, or anger and keeping it for herself.

Now, this isn’t… Purpleblood abilities manifest as a way to keep the lowbloods down. That’s what it’s supposed to be. So maybe you could alter this to be something she really hates having? Something like hideous laughter, maybe? She can use her abilities to make people absolutely lose it with uncontrollable laughter. Maybe she’s trying to work on blunting the effect, somehow? Like making it so that she can make people giggle a little but, but having to suppress the power like that has a negative effect that makes her irritable and headachey?

Ancestor: The Vandal [Aleyna Ashraz, Witch of Rage]

Caught in a war and several rebellions, Aleyna was right at home. Rebelling against her own kind, She’d paint messages of rebellion along the walls of the nobles, with blood that she could find, her own, if necessary. 

Quickly gaining fame as a rebel, she kept this image up, stirring up rebellions with her works, and sending messages of danger to those who ruled. This did however, end up with assassins, coming to find for her, only to be led on a wild goose chase. Any of those, that did find her returned back home, scared, although they couldn’t quite describe why.

When the law eventually caught up, she didn’t surrender, and was taken away. What happened to her, was unknown.

Raizna was always interested in her Ancestor, respecting her for speaking up about what she thought was right, in a non-violent way. She often hopes that she had survived, and one day, Raizna hopes that she could do something just as cool.

Ancestors need 8 letter titles! How about The Graphein instead? It’s a Greek word that means To Write and is an etymological root for Graffiti. It still implies the same writing on the walls that you desired, but fits the lettering rules.

Lusus: Her lusus, is a weird combination, of a phoenix and a cat, that she affectionately calls her Birdmum and loves dearly. Raizna often takes food both caught and made to her lusus, as an attempt to return the favour of being brought up by her. Often being very defensive of Raizna, Birdmum often has to guard their hive, meaning she isn’t around very much. They have a mutually caring relationship, and if anything happened to her lusus, Raizna doesn’t know what she’d do.

Purple lusii need to be creatures that cross the land-sea barrier, so Bird Cat doesn’t really satisfy that requirement. Hmm… How about a phoenix turtle instead? Half phoenix, half turtle. It could have feathers on its wings, long tail feathers instead of the short turtle tail. This is because turtles are known to be long-living, so it fits the immortal theme alright. It’s also a sly reference to The Phoenix and the Turtle, which is about a lot of things but The Death Of An Ideal is one of the core themes and it fits well with the hope switch I’ve given to her.

Personality: Raizna is obnoxiously cheerful. Or at least, that’s what most people think. She often goes out of her way, to make people happy, either by feeding away their woes, listening to them, or calming them down with soft words. Often doing things out of her own kindness, many people are drawn to her for aid. She does, have a fondness for helping people, and will often go out of her way to do tasks for people, even if that means beating the hell out of somebody who hurt one of her friends, or stealing. Normally quite calm, she’s often cheerful, always fighting with her own dark urges. When she’s angry, or if her own nature takes over, she can be brutal, murderous and cunning, all the things she often hates about herself. With a deep hatred of lies, and lying, she’s incredibly honest, to the point of being brutally honest sometimes. However, at the top of everything, she puts others first, with very little care for herself.

I really like this base for her personality, like a LOT. I think you should pull some of the clowniness I’ve suggested, though. Maybe have her crack jokes for her friends, or do little performances. Maybe she’s willing to sacrifice her dignity to make her pals laugh. Maybe she’s always willing to throw a pie in her own face to get a giggle. She wants to be a good friend, and she tries to keep up under wraps with these jokes, maybe sometimes with pranks? Just trying to vent it out in any way possible. 

The rest of the stuff is really good. Give her a STRONG conviction for honesty, helping people, and doing what’s right. Because convictions are very important with hope-aligned players.

Interests: Baking, Painting, Writing, FLARP (to a degree. She doesn’t play much anymore), Sociology, Fire and “Magic” .

Maybe she plays FLARP but she likes to change the F to mean Funny. Funny Live Action Role Play. You know those people in MMOs who are like high level and terrifying and you’re so scared they’re going to kill your weak little level 1 character? and then they roll up and hand you like 4000 silver for literally no reason and tell you to go buy a horse? That could be her. 

You should add a general clowniness here. If she used to use clubs, she probably knows how to juggle! Maybe she could like fire spitting as well. And some pranks! Harmless fun! Fire crackers and noise makers and confetti poppers!

Appearence: Raizna, has never been one to draw attention to herself.  She keeps her long curly hair, that’s practically impossible to brush loose. You could probably find a plushie or two in there, if you tried hard enough. Often wearing a plain black shirt, and fluffy black pyjama trousers, she often seems like a mess, to the annoyance of a few of her friends. Quite.. disturbingly, she’s often covered in bright colours, from her painting. However, some lowbloods mistake the paint, for being the blood of people she’s killed, causing uneeded fear. 

At all times, she wears her makeup, flame like patterns coating her eyes, and brim of her nose. Streaking down from her lips, are swirls of white and red that stand out against her skin. She virtually never takes off the makeup, and just puts more on each day, without washing the previous day’s makeup off. To keep with her messy theme, she wears soft slippers everywhere. I mean. Literally everywhere. Even when dressed up formally.

She seems cute! I’ll see how I can communicate this in sprite form.

Title: Thief Of Rage.

I’ve always had her, as quite a soothing character, so I figured somebody who stole peoples negative emotions, could be quite a good idea, which is why I originally started with a thief. I couldn’t decide on if I should make her a heart, or rage player. 

I eventually decided on rage, and although I don’t think the go to version of the aspect particularly fits her. She can be selfish in a way, so I suppose it still fits! 

I think that she’s in a kind of good place, theoretically, as a person. So I think maybe Rogue of Hope might be a good title for her. 

She’s someone who cares a lot about others, who has a strong sense of justice and what is right and what needs to be done, and she’s not afraid to do it for others. AND she moves the anger around via her powers. She passively moves hope and positivity and potential onto others, lightening their moods, while actively taking on rage, which she turns into a weapon.

Land: The Land of Fire and Fear.

Raizna’s hive was just destined to be something fiery. I mean, with a phoenix for a lusus that was just fate wasn’t it. She just wasn’t quite expecting it to be on an active volcano. So when she eventually left her hive, and got hit by the freezing cold winds, she decided immediately. Nope. Don’t like cold. Cold things are bad.

So she ran inside again. Like a coward. That was, until said volcano erupted, lava burning away and melting the ice that covered her land. Just her luck. Right? 

However, despite all that destruction.. there was something beautiful about the whole ideal. As fire and lava ran across the land that was home, she soon decided one thing.

Maybe destruction can be pretty.

I see what you’re going for here, fire that’s pretty, but… I want to try to push that idea further than just lava flowing over the ground. How about…

Land of Glass and Paraffin, a land where leaping balls of flaming accelerant jump across the land, melting down the glassed surface, creating beautiful swirls, an ever-shifting pattern, molten-hot and deadly, but so wonderfully beautiful you can’t look away. There is always potential for something new, something beautiful, in the mutating surface. But she also has to find hope for the consorts, who live on a molten nightmare planet.

Dream Planet: Prospit.

Raizna, is a Prospit dreamer to a point. She’s optimistic, bubbly and cheerful! However, she does hold some of Derse’s dissatisfaction towards the world, simply due to just how wrong she finds everything. Following what some people do.. would just be lying to herself. Fate, however she does believe in. Fate, and Miracles.

Design: 

Horns: I wanted to make them look like the new symbol I gave her. So very curly, fun, and huge. 

Hair: I made it a big curly mess just like you suggested. I tried to make the curls come off a lot of larger round shapes, mostly because I wanted to summon the image of a clown wig at least tangentially. 

Eyes: Because I liked my own joke too much, I wanted to base her eyes just slightly off of Funshine bear from Journey to Joke-a-lot. And to make her just a little goofy looking, because that was kind of my goal for the whole design, I made her almost cross-eyed. 

Mouth: I wanted her to have big scary teeth to hint at her more dangerous nature. 

Makeup: I utilized red for some flamey eye makeup, some lines down the face, and the outer part of some cheek dots. I used yellow for her lips and the inner part of the cheek dots to try to bring a bright cheeriness, to hit on some more fire-themed colors, and to make her look goofy, once again. 

Shirt: I made the shirt slipping off one shoulder, to aid her messy image. I also like how it bunched the collar of the shirt, because now it’s vaguely reminiscent of a clown frill. I only added a few splotches of blood because her design was already busy color-wise and I didn’t want to overwhelm it. 

Pants: I made some loose pajama pants from Karkat’s pants and edited them to be purple. I wanted to carry the yellow down here, too, so she gets stripey pants! 

Slippers: They’re just edited from a fan-troll spritesheet to be in her purple color-family. 

She’s a really cute character! Thank you for sharing!

-CD