Nev

Jewel thief. Artifact thief. Freelance. (Faceclaim Melonie Diaz) (This blog is RP associated with Dark Cities. Nariavanhen is the main blog from which I will follow)

[nevaehsloan]

One Shot, Two Shot || Nevaeh Sloan & Milo Rodriguez

[nevaehsloan]

right--righteous:

Milo rubs his chin where it was squeezed and decides he doesn’t like that cutesy little quirk of hers. Regardless, there’s something intoxicating about the way she looks at him. All dangerous and in control. Like if he lets her, she’ll take him to some wild place.

He’s been good for too long. Time to let loose.

Giving her a sideways glance, Milo nabs the attention of the bartender. “Rum and coke, and put it on her tab,” He clicks his fingers, and points a finger gun at her, giving her a wink as he swivels around in his chair to face her a little.

“You can call me sweetheart all you like, doll,” He muses, pulling the drink that’s set before him into his hand, taking a sip before continuing, “Or ‘oh fuck, oh jesus, oh god’ depending on how tonight goes.” Milo moves a little closer to her. Her perfume swills around his nostrils, and dances through his head. That dangerous gaze is never wavering, never leaving him for a second, and he’s not about to let her hold a monopoly on staring.

Putting down his drink, Milo places a hand on her knee - respectful, as ever, because he’s a goddamn gentleman - and takes her hand in his, planting a kiss on her knuckles, “If you’re feeling a little more traditional,” he tells her, “Name’s Milo.”

And to think he was starting to grow bored of Gotham.

Woof.

This is good, because rarely does Nevaeh find interesting men, and even then the trend leans more toward “less boring than others” than “actually interesting.” But this tall drink of water is playing the field for her, naughty and nice, and his execution is flawless. And he’s going to play to her, with maybe a little backbone. Mr. Milo better follow up good, because his audition is promising and she’d so hate to be let down.

“Well now, Milo,” she says, resting her head on her hand against the bar as she considers him. “Those are the hands of a man who’s not afraid of some work. And I’m a girl who’s gonna take some doing. How about we finish our drinks, and then we skip off to a nice hotel I know and feel each other out a little better, hm?”

By most accounts, she should feel bad about this. She should have Ivy hovering in the back of her mind, the threat of ruining the relationship looming on the horizon. But she doesn’t, and it’s not, because Ivy knows who she gets in bed with and Nevaeh is a hurricane that rips through when and where she pleases. She’s always been self-serving, and that’s why her love life is usually devoid of the love part.

And anyway. Should shit hit the fan and that bridge get burned, Nevaeh will be able to move on, because all of her everything is about moving on, perpetual motion. Besides, who could feel bad about sneaking off with talk, dark and handsome here?

She buys Milo as many more drinks as he desires, because he deserves it and also because she wants to flaunt the fact that she’s rolling in it. And if he decides to move this along with her, he’s truly in for a night of spoiling.

She’s hard to win, but boy is she a treat when she’s gotten.

[nevaehsloan]

One Shot, Two Shot || Nevaeh Sloan & Milo Rodriguez

[nevaehsloan]

right--righteous:

All Milo wants is a quiet night.

Like Donna Summer, he’s been working hard for the money. He’s done three hits and a security escort job all in one week. He’s hit his monthly quota of souls, and made enough cash in the meantime that he can afford to take the rest of the month off, and he plans to do just that. All three days that are left of it.

Whatever, he’ll take it. He probably needs to lay low for a little anyways, before he makes a name for himself, or gets picked up on the police radar. With so many criminals infesting Gotham, he’d be surprised if a few of them going missing would be enough to spur more than a ‘well, my job’s a little easier now’. Still. Milo also doesn’t fancy breaking his contract just because he wound up in jail. There’s only so much a soul-munching demon can do for a guy like Milo, and making several dozen counts of murder disappear is not one of them.

So Milo finds an unmarked bar in the bad side of tow that he’s made into his home and slips inside. He’s making his way towards the bartender when he’s interrupted by a woman snatching him from his path, who looks like she’s barely passing five-foot nothing. He eyes her when she calls him a name he recognises, but doesn’t relate to, and quickly diverts his attention to the greaseball who’s coming onto his girl. Because, for tonight, or at least for a few seconds, she’s his girl. For whatever reason, she’s asking for a bail-out, even though she looks like she could snap even Milo in half. Whatever her reasons, Milo doesn’t mind helping a pretty girl out.

He unbuttons his suit jacket, flashing the gleaming dual pistols he has buried under his arms, sneering, “Take pity on the poor man, babe,” Milo casually wraps his arm around the girl’s shoulders, “He must be drunk, or high to think he’s even remotely within the realms of being in your league. Or a little bit slow on the uptake, but who am I to judge.” Releasing the girl, Milo closes the gap between himself and this random douchebag. Even when the guy flinches, Milo takes a firm hold around his shoulders, turning now to face the woman. His babe. “Now, there’s two ways out of this situation,” He turns briefly to the man, flashing a pair of glowing, burning red eyes at him, “Either you drag your sorry ass back home, have a sad little wank, and continue on with your meaningless life in peace. Or - and I kinda hope you pick door number two - you come for a ride in my car and I’ll deliver you to a place where not even lucifer himself can hear you scream,” He flashes a cold, toothy grin, slapping the man on the shoulder. “Your choice.”

Needless to say, the man is quick to run off with his tail between his legs.

“Beginner,” Milo scoffs, buttoning up his jacket once more. He doesn’t need anyone thinking he’s here to start a fight for no reason. Milo turns, and rests his elbows against the bar, letting a smirk slip across his features, “Corazon?” He asks, voice smooth as velvet, and only a little affected by a telling accent, “I don’t think I bear any particular resemblance to some old president from the Philippines,” He glances at the woman, eyebrow quirked, “Was that just a wild guess, or can you read my mind?”

Nevaeh grinned, sliding onto a stool and leaning against the bar along with Tall, Dark, and Scary. “Corazón,” she repeated, lightly squeezing his chin between her fingers. "A pretty little name we Mexicans use on our lovers. No mind reading, chiquito, so you're gonna have to use your words to tell me what kind of drink I'm buying you."

Nevaeh has learned, over time, that there are different levels of interesting in the places she frequents. In a high-class cocktail party, amid even the driest, old white people, a lot of corruption and deceit can be found. But it's in these seedy little bars and normal nightclubs that the really interesting people show up. Some nights, it's a cute vigilante who's skills in the street are surpassed only by his skills in the sheets. Some nights, it's a tall stranger with a gun under his arm and a very, very scary scowl.

Nevaeh does so like finding rare and valuable things.

"So do you have a name, or am I going to have to keep calling you sweetheart?" she asked, reaching for the glass of whiskey that had been set before her during the little altercation. "I don't mind either way. A man packing as much heat as you has license to a little secrecy, I think." One foot lightly brushed against the back of the man's leg, and her gaze never wavered. Too bad she'd decided against the short skirt tonight.

Mm, yes. Things had gotten a little too safe at the apartment of her pretty botanist. Nevaeh would be going back, she always did, but a nice, bright flash of danger was good for the soul.

[nevaehsloan]

One Shot, Two Shot || Nevaeh Sloan & Milo Rodriguez

Nevaeh Sloan was a girl of many faces.

She could party in a high-class lounge at the top of a skyscraper with the best of them, or she could hang low in the seediest little bar in town.

Tonight, anonymity felt a little better, so instead of a glittery cocktail dress, she went for the dark jeans and slipped off into the night. Ivy’s place was fun, but sometimes the vines felt like they were creeping a little close and she needed to make a bid at freedom again.

What she always seemed to forget was how long it took for people to start coming onto her once she got there.

This time, it was no longer than the time it took to get settled and order a whiskey at the bar before some pasty piece of white boy came sneering up like he had some kind of game.

She could break his arm. She could cause a hell of a scene and teach him to just stay the fuck home, but she came here tonight because she wanted to keep it lowkey. Instead, she grabbed the nearest dude, who happened to be a fucking tree (everyone was a tree to Nevaeh’s 5 feet 2 inches), and dragged him over. “Corazon, this boy thinks he’s hot shit,” she said. Ooh, excellent. This guy looked terrifying, and Whitey McWhiteboy already looked nervous. If he played along, she’d buy him any drink he wanted. “You wanna politely tell him to fuck off your girl, pretty please?”

Mr. McWhiteboy looked at Mr. Tree like he actually thought there was a chance some massive dude was going to say, “Nah, sure, go for it.” Well, if he did, she could still break some arms. Would be a pretty big damper on the night, though.

@right--righteous​

[nevaehsloan]

Bad Girlfriend || Nevaeh Sloan & Pamela Ivy

[nevaehsloan]

ivythebotanist:

The sound of humming filled the small kitchen-dining-living room combination that consisted of half of Pamela Ivy’s apartment.  The apartment was, perhaps, unlike any other in Gotham city, and probably shared more in common with a herbarium than an apartment – with vines covering nearly every visible surface of the wall and ceiling, and every surface not used for eating and working covered under many clay potted plants of various sizes. Strangely, even though it was night, and many of the plants were not nocturnal, every flower  in the room bloomed brilliantly, and every vine or stem appeared thicker than normal for their species- almost as if they were ready to burst. Every so often, however, as Ivy – who was studying a rather promising ectomycorrhizae fungi specimen under the Celestron LCD microscope Nev had bought her for her last birthday –would come across something that grabbed her attention and caused her to stop humming, the formerly vibrant plants would start to droop and slowly revert to their original size as if some sort of spell were being broken. As her humming started up again, on cue, the plants came into bloom and seemed to pulsate with life.

As someone who spent a considerable amount of time copped up in her apartment studying, Ivy supposed that, to the outside world, she might appear lonely. That had never been an issue for her, however. Since the time she was very little, Ivy had discovered she shared a strange connection with plants, and they had always been her constant companions. Now, of course, her sources of companionship had expanded to include Nevaeh, as well.

Ivy smiled as she heard the sound of keys jumbling together, followed shortly by the jingle of the door knob. There was only one other person who had keys to her apartment and, much as she was loathed to admit it - because she didn’t want to seem like one of those girlfriends that were clingy or couldn’t function when their partner was away –Ivy had longed for Nev’s presence.

Among other things, Ivy thought as she took in Nev’s skin tight “work” apparel as she entered.

“Hola novio,” she said as Nev wrapped her arms around her and kissed cheek. “Te extrañe,” she murmured - one of the phrases she knew in Spanish - as she kissed Nev’s arm before allowing her to pull away. She looked down as she felt something lumpy hit her lap. “What’s this?” she asked as she picked up the small pouch, turning it this way and that to examine it. Nev would sometimes bring her little “souvenirs” from her excursions, and Ivy had learned that it was better to accept the gifts without asking their origins. When Nev told her that they were Brugmansia seeds, Ivy whipped around to look at her.

“Get out!” she shouted incredulously before turning back to her little pouch and quickly untying it with the vigor of a child unwrapping a gift at Christmas. There were seven species of Brugmansia, and all were extinct in the wild, so seeds were hard to come by, extremely expensive, and their sale was  heavily regulated in some countries. Of course, given that they were only seeds, she wouldn’t be able to verify the flower with any certainty until they bloomed, but just peering at the shriveled looking seeds that were a cross between brown and yellow sent a surge of excitement through Ivy. She didn’t dare take out any to examine without applying her gardening gloves, though – even touching the plants was toxic. She doubted Nev fully understood what she was taking possession of when she had came across such a rarity.

“Ne-ev,” she crooned, “I love it – thank you.”

Ivy placed the pouch with the seeds next to a clay pot of grape hyacinths, and did a double take as she watched the plant shrink away from the seeds.

…That’s new, Ivy thought, frowning as she eyed the plant. Her hyacinths were usually friendly and quite receptive to newcomers.

“Have you done nothing but work since I left, Miss Ivy?” Nev asked, redirecting her attention. It seemed as if Nev hadn’t noticed what had just transpired. Ivy merely resolved to investigate it later because Nev playing with her hair was very distracting.

“Well, no – not entirely. I did make time for bathroom breaks and eating. Sometimes I even remembered to sleep,” she joked. With Ivy both working part-time as a teaching assistant and pursuing a graduate degree as a full-time student at Gotham University, she was often glued to her work station when she got home. It would probably be depressing if they didn’t joke about the circumstances, so they often did. She reached up and took Nev’s hands that were playing with her hair and wrapped them around her as she’d done earlier. “I did miss you, though,” she said seriously, her face half turned to face Nev, who was standing at her shoulder. “I worry when you’re away doing stuff for work,” she confessed, her hands caressing Nev’s arms that were still wrapped around her shoulders. She wasn’t usually this mushy when Nev was round – they tended to stray from any declarations about their feelings, but Ivy was in a strangely sentimental mood.

“And, actually… I’ve been thinking…” Ivy allowed her voice to stray and bit her lip as she thought about how best to broach the subject with Nev.

Nevaeh smiled widely, peppering Ivy's cheek, jaw, and throat with little kisses. Maybe it was because Ivy spent her days hanging around plants, but her mouth tended to run away with her a little. Nevaeh found it endearing. Particularly because it made her pleasure all the more obvious when Nev made her forget what words were entirely.

"You don't need to worry about me, princesa," she murmured, just before dragging the tip of her tongue lightly over the corner of Ivy's jaw. "I've got it aalll under control."

There was a little bit of nervousness in Ivy's voice when she next spoke, and they couldn't have any of that. "That's a dangerous pastime, chiquita," Nevaeh said lowly, smoothly seating herself in Ivy's lap so her knees were bracketing the botanist's hips. She slowly brushed Ivy's hair away from her shoulders, fingers lightly stroking the pale skin. "You know you're a beautiful genius, and you know I think your brains are nothing short of hot," she leaned in, warm breath ghosting over Ivy's throat (speaking of hot), and whispered, "but sometimes you think too much."

Her hands were down on Ivy's sides, thumbs pressing into her hipbones, and now her mouth was busy sucking a bruise at the base of Ivy's throat. "You're so patient when I'm gone," she murmured, tilting up to kiss her sweetly on the lips. "At least let me give you a decent hello before we get into all that thinking business, sì?"

[nevaehsloan]

Bad Girlfriend || Nevaeh Sloan & Pamela Ivy

@ivythebotanist

Lively humming filled the small hallway as Nevaeh Sloan selected the right key from a small brass ring and inserted it into a door lock. Not an out-of-place scene aside from a few things: this was not her apartment, she was dressed in a black outfit meant for thieving, and she was carrying a bag of questionable legality. But she continued to hum as though unbothered by her conspicuousness, and she stepped into the apartment.

The temperature immediately went up several degrees and the air became more humid, like Nevaeh had just crossed from Gotham into the Amazon. Sprawling, crawling plants replaced any kind of decoration, and every available surface was practically groaning under the weight of so much vegetation. Nevaeh crossed over to the red-head sitting at her computer, then wrapped her arms around the woman’s shoulders. “Hola, princesa,” she purred, kissing Ivy’s neck. “I brought you a present.” She pulled back a bit so she could drop a small bag in Ivy’s lap, then turned away to drop her larger bag by the door.

“I just came back from a little… mm, we’ll call it a ‘party’ in Venezuela. And we’ll call that a party favor.” She unlaced her boots and let them rest by her bag, then removed her thick jacket and black pants so she wouldn’t be suffocated by the room’s heat (and because, truthfully, she just preferred no pants). “I was told they’re red brugmansia seeds and worth quite a pretty penny. Cold weather flowers, though, so maybe another one for your flower fridge?” She went back over to Ivy, slowly pulling her long red hair away from her neck and shoulders. “Have you done nothing but work since I left, Miss Ivy?”

[nevaehsloan]

@aiming-at-darkness 

"Well I trust you But not enough to put this gun in your hand" 

"Because lovers love And lovers leave And if you say you love me Then where does that leave me?"

[aiming-at-darkness-deactivated2]

Oops || Arrow & Nighthawk

It happened sooner than Jason had expected. He and Nevaeh were out one night, a normal night that seemed like any other. He was patrolling as the Arrow, keeping in contact with her via an earpiece that was far too high-tech even for Gotham, and he honestly had no idea where she was or what she was doing thanks to her secretive mood. Jason had just finished breaking up a would-be mugging and was moving quietly up a fire escape when he saw a taxi pull up to the hotel across the street. 

Curious, Jason stopped to watch. The hotel was an extremely seedy place, a place they’d suspected King was still running whores out of – if whores was even the right word when most of them were probably their against their will – but they hadn’t been able to get any confirmation on it yet. The night seemed like as good a one as any to try and get through the place’s security, he thought, and so he would wait until the taxi left – but when the passenger stepped out of it, Jason felt his eyes widen.

Jeremy King.

The monster himself, the kingpin of Starling City’s crime industries, the man responsible for the abduction and rape of dozens of women, if not hundreds, and a few men. The monster who paved the way for drug dealers, who the law was afraid to touch, the beast that truly thought he owned the city, the bastard who had blown up Nevaeh’s home, who thought he was going to get away with all of it, who almost had  – and there he was, talking to the other man who’d gotten out of the taxi with him. They were joking about something, King’s face handsome and smiling and pre, pure evil. 

Evil men needed to die – 

No.

He couldn’t kill him. Couldn’t. Wouldn’t. But he couldn’t just let the bastard walk in safely, not when he had a decent position, not when the had the opportunity. Jason quickly nocked an arrow. He knew that he didn’t have Oliver’s command of the bow, he would never be Oliver Queen, but he was pretty damn good. He was almost entirely certain he could shoot King in the leg from here. He drew, he sighted, he released – 

And the arrow tore through King’s chest. 

Jeremy King staggered and stared down at the feathers projecting from his heart with the most human look of horror. The taxi driver sped off, burning rubber, and the man with King shouted and tried to catch him as he fell. Even from here, though, Jason could see  that King was dead.

Security began pouring out of the hotel, guns already drawn.

King had been put on the sidewalk. His mouth and eyes were open.

A cold, black feeling spread through Jason’s body as he turned to flee, and it made him clumsy. He knocked into the air railing, the noise was like a gunshot, and then dozens of gunshots followed. 

“King’s dead at the Jensonia,” he said urgently into the mic, although if Nevaeh could hear anything over the hail of bullets, Jason would be surprised. He felt two hit him, one in the hip and one in the shoulder, and he swore and dove off of the escape, hitting the ground in a terrible roll. 

Ollie wouldn’t have fucked it up. 

The bullet holes didn’t hurt yet. That was weird, right?

Everything was in slow motion as Jason got to his feet and started running as best he could. 

Dick wouldn’t have done it. Wouldn’t have killed him.

Bruce wouldn’t have. 

Babs… 

Jason had to slide around a corner and dive behind a dumpster when a pursuer came into the alley he’d been racing down. The man burst out after him and ran past the dumpster.. On autopilot now, Jason sprang up and nocked another arrow, releasing it into the back of the man’s leg – higher than he should have.

Ollie wouldn’t have fucked it up.

His arm didn’t feel right.

“I’m hit. You probably wanna get off the street.” This time, Jason sounded calm. His left arm had just sort of quit and was hanging limply at his side. That was weird. Fuck. He made it to his bike, got on, and then everything felt distorted and warm and round as he focused on getting the hell out of the neighborhood, his head spinning, nausea growing. he wasn’t sure how the fuck he even made it back to the Arrowcave, but he found himself stumbling in.

Alone.

Good. 

He pulled his right glove off and his hand was fine. He pulled his left glove off and blood rushed out of the glove. It was pouring out of his sleeve. He stared at it, barely comprehending, and reached for the medical kit –weird. The table was a hell of a lot higher up than Jason remembered, and he was a lot more tired than he’d thought. Hi wounds weren’t going anywhere – seemed like a good time to take a nap.

Closing his eyes, Jason drifted off. 

[nevaehsloan]

Nevaeh burst into the Arrowcave, peels of laughter echoing off the walls in what could only be described as mad cackling. She bypassed the stairs, vaulting over the rail and straight to the floor. “You gorgeous little pendejo!” she said, flouncing over to Jason and grabbing him by the face. She kissed him full on the lips, patting sharply at his cheeks after she pulled away. “Wakey wakey, Jay, baby, come on.”

Still laughing to herself, she helped him onto the table, keeping him from slipping too far into unconsciousness as she located the medical supplies. “Oh, you fucking rock, chiquito, you magnificent beast of a boy.” She planted another solid kiss to his cheek as she pressed gauze into one of the open wounds.

Oh, what a night. She’d gotten Jason’s message and raced to the location. In all the chaos Jason had stirred up, it had been almost laughably easy to go over and check things out. King was already just a cooling body on the sidewalk, but Nevaeh had sent down a couple more bullets into his head just to be sure. They had his name on them, after all, it was only right.

And now, here she was, patching up the various holes in Jason’s body and practically dancing as she did.

“You’re the real MVP, right here,” she said, spinning to grab a bottle of water and hand it to him. “Drink! Good fluids first! Alcohol and sundry other things later!” Leaving him there on the table, she turned away again to get one of the emergency IV bags stored down there, humming all the while. Upon her return, she got him all hooked up, then pressed her lips to his again, gently nipping at the bottom. “You are so getting special treatment when you stop bleeding everywhere, you beautiful bastard.”

[spentnursinganimosity]

“So you don’t want to dance, but you do want to wrestle?”

[nevaehsloan]

TMI

1:Kitchen Counter, Couch, or on top of the dryer?

All of them, and let’s add the desk, the desk chair, and the baby grand piano in front of the sliding glass patio door

2:Your last sexual encounter: Good or Bad and why:

-insert long snort here- Gettin’ up there. Didn’t want to admit it. Couldn’t keep it up. Disappointing. 

Worth the laughter and the cash.

3:A fictional person that you think would be good in bed:

Dude. Dude. Xena. Warrior Princess. How could you not?

4:Something that never fails to make you horny:

I’m always horny.

5:Where is one place you would never have sex:

Idk lol any time, any place, I’m down

Edit: Okay shut up yeah not my old apartment get the fuck out

6:The most awkward moment during a sexual experience was when?  

Any time he’s older than 40, and I mean any time. I understand, some men over 40 still rock it. Those are not the greaseballs I’m liftin shit from. Like, people joke about teenagers fumbling awkwardly, but these motherfuckers act like they know shit and I feel so sorry for the wives they’re ditching. Injustice.

7:Weirdest thing that ever made you horny: 

Cooking channel.

8:What is the best way to sexually bind someone: Handcuffs, Rope, or Other [if other please explain]: 

Ropes, but not like fiber ropes. Like, really nice, rubber-blend type stuff, very smooth, very durable. Great when you’re sliding it across their skin before you tie ‘em up.

9:What is the fastest way to make you horny: 

Show me you got tricks in your hands and a brain in your head.

10:Top or bottom? 

Bop bop bop, bop to the top

11:We were about to ____________ but then ______________ [example: we were about to have sex but then his mom walked in]

We were about to start a superhero porno but then we had responsibilities.

12:Is one orgasm enough? Are multiple orgasms necessary? 

Listen, every encounter has a different purpose. And not everyone can get off multiple times in a row. You play to the moment. 

13:Something that you have hidden in your room that you don’t want anyone to find: 

My fucking stash get the fuck out of my shit, pendejo

14:Weirdest nickname a significant other has ever called you:

-shivers- “My little ice cream bowl”

15:Two things you like [or dislike] about oral sex:

Like: making you squirm

Dislike: when you fucking gag me I know what the fuck I’m doing sit the fuck down

16:Weirdest sexual act some has performed [or tried to perform] on/with you:

Little Bo Peep roleplay 

I was not Little Bo Peep.

17:Have you ever tasted yourself? [If no, would you?] [If yes, what did you think?] 

Hell yeah I have. Ain’t bad. Boys need to shut the fuck up and man up

18:Is it ever okay to not use a condom: 

Fuck no, son, you wrap that shit 

19:Who was the sexiest teacher you ever had? 

None lol

20:A food that you would like to use during a sexual experience: 

You know, just once, someone needs to be excessively wasteful and just lick caviar off my naked body. Drench me in champagne. I’m worth it.

21:How big is too big: 

No dick is too big, only a will and well of creativity too small

22:One sexual thing you would never do: 

Anything involving children or animals

23:Biggest turn on: 

A really good con

24:Three spots that drive you insane: 

Back of the neck, bellybutton, bottom lip

25:Worst possible time to get horny: 

There is no such thing

26:Do you like it when your sexual partner moans: 

Well, sure, but if I tell you to be quiet, I don’t wanna hear any kind of noise past the gag.

27:Worst sexual idea you ever had: 

Men.

Edit: okay, fine, I’ll admit that the White House storage closet was ill-advised.

29:Best sexual complement you ever got:

“I’m gay now” “There’s a thing called bisexual” “No. Just gay. Full homo.”

32:Fill in the blank: "If they ____________, we are fuckin"

How about If I say so and they respond in the affirmative

33:What your favorite part of your body: 

Fingers.

34:Favorite foreplay activities: 

Fingers.

35:Love (>,<, or =) Sex For those of us who don’t remember our math thats “greater than, less than, or equal to] 

<

The fuck you need love for

36:What do you wear to bed? 

If it’s just me, an AC/DC shirt and booty shorts. With somebody else, black lace nightgown.

39:Have you ever/when was the last time you had sex outside?

Does a treehouse count as outside?

40:Have/would you ever have sex outside? 

Hella

41:Have/would you ever had a threesome? 

Three. That’s cute. Try thirteen. It was the goddamn Last Supper up in there.

44:Have/would you ever have sex on a plane? 

Done it. Several times. To varying results.

45:What is one song you’d like to have sex to? 

Nasty Naughty Boy

46:What is something nonsexual that makes you horny? 

.50 cal Desert Eagle

47:Most attractive celebrity? 

I have a weakness for Cara Delevingne

48:Do you watch gay/lesbian porn? why/why not?

Gay porn watches me

49:If a child was born on the occasion of the last time you had sex, how old would that child be right now? 

8 hours

50:Has anyone ever posted nude pictures of you online?

Lol sure have. Didn’t last long.

51:What is one thing that NEVER makes you horny? 

Ugh. Dull wits. 

52:Do you have stretch marks? (How do you feel about them? Has anyone ever had a problem with them?) 

Yeah. I’m neutral. Doesn’t really come up.

53:Do you like giving head? (why/why not) 

Only, and I mean only, if I like the person I’m with. If it’s for a job, you don’t get spoiled, muchacho

54:How do you feel about tattoos on someone you are interested in? 

Gimme the ink

55:How would you feel about taking someones virginity? 

Give it here, I’ll make sure your first time goes right.

56:Is there any food you would NOT recommend using during a sexual encounter? 

Eggs. Please, please trust me on this one. No matter how funny you think it is to make a joke about how hot your partner is... it’s not funny enough.

58:Do you own any sex toys? (what is it? (how long have you had it?)

Plenty

60:Would you be offended if your significant other suggested you get plastic surgery? 

Bitch would get slapped so hard they’d see the curvature of the earth

61:Would you rather be a pornstar or a prostitute? 

Pornstaaaar

62:Do you watch porn? 

Yes sir

63:How small is too small? 

If I like you, I’ll make it work. If I don’t like you, you’ll never be big enough.

64:Have you ever been called a freak? Why?

Yeeeep. Different reasons. 

65:Who gave you your last kiss? Did it mean anything? 

That fuckin old piece of white bread. Blegh. Glad I got a few grand out of it.

66:Would you switch phones with your significant other for a day?

You stay the fuck out of my personal devices. 

67:Do you feel comfortable going "commando"? 

Do people still wear underwear?

68:Would you have a problem with going down on someone if they hadn't shaved their pubic hair? 

I mean... it’d be nice if you did.... But if the payout’s big enough, I can go at it with a stiff upper lip

69:If you could give yourself head, would you? 

Why do it myself when I can get anyone else to do it for me?

70:Booty or Boobs? 

Gimme the titty

71:If you had a penis/vagina, what would you name it? 

The Black Mambaaaaaaa

72:Have you ever been on an official date? 

Ahahahaahahahahaahahahahahahahaha

73:Have you ever cheated on someone? (Why?) 

Having not been in a proper relationship, that’s not a thing I can do

74:If you were a stripper, what would your name be? 

Fortuna

75:Have you ever had sex in your parents bed? (Would you?) 

Fuck off.

76:How would you react if you found out your parents had sex in your bed? 

Fuck off x2

77:What was your reaction the first time you saw a penis/vagina? 

Thought I’d hit the jackpot. I know better now.

78:If you had a penis/vagina for a day, what are five things you would do? 

Turn everyone gay, but the other direction

[nevaehsloan]

Boom - Rex, Nevaeh

[aiming-at-darkness-deactivated2]

“You are supposed to be dead,” Rex agreed. He didn’t shut the door completely, leaving a tiny crack open, blew out the candles on the little card table then walked over to what seemed to be his side of the bed. Rex had already taken off his jacket, so he untucked his shirt and began unbuttoning it as he spoke. “

It is not thing to forget quickly, only to try and forget. Try often, but accept that trying is not always success. We fail at many things, yes? It is okay to fail at this. Especially when the house is quiet and night is deep.” Rex draped his clothing over the back of a chair. He kept his boxers and sleeveless undershirt on for propriety’s sake, then put his gun in the night stand. He had never been a fan of keeping one under the pillow; the gun tended to migrate, and it would be terrible (and not impossible) to wake up and discover it was not where it should be, when needed. Besides. If a man was on the other side of the room, it was already too late - and if he was close enough to reach? It would already be too late for the man, even if he had a gun of his own. 

Rex settled into bed next to her, although he turned on his side to face her. “Is no shame in fear; you won, you are alive to feel it. They lose.” He was speaking quietly, wishing he knew some way to actually comfort the one person in the world who seemed to never want any comfort. Nevaeh was such a fierce little thing, so strong and dangerous, but even the strong, even the dangerous, could be shattered by losing as much as she had in a single night. Wanting to comfort her without insulting her, wanting to give her something, Rex reached out and patted her knee. 

“You will be okay.”

The words felt woefully inadequate and he almost regretted saying them, But Rex just gave her an attempt at a reassuring smile – tough to do when thinking about what had happened made him want to snap King’s spine – and took his hand away.

[nevaehsloan]

Nevaeh usually didn’t take comfort in other people. Usually, it was empty because those other people didn’t really know her. But Rex did, he knew most of the important secrets, what she did, what it meant. He’d been on the King case longer than she had. He understood.

She scooted over until she could curl against his chest, breathing in his warmth and smell, just to know there was another human being there. “A lot of pretty words for a big scary Russian mobster,” she murmured, wrapping her arms around his waist. She was warmer now, felt less restless than she had before. Maybe she’d actually fall asleep.

“You showed up right on time, Rexy,” she continued to mumble, eyes sliding shut. “Came swooping in for little old me. What would your enemies think? Dropping everything for… a no good… thief….“

She was out in moments, pressed against Rex’s much larger body, surrounded by his strength. She didn’t need men in her life. But when they were like this, and took the time to care about her for her rather than because of what she might give in return… then they were worth her time. This one, anyway. This one was worth her time.

That played second fiddle, however, to her need to murder Jeromy King about sixteen times over. As long as Rex stuck with her for that, he was on her good side, because the King case had just gone from something she was interested in to something deeply personal. In the morning, she’d figure out how to start tearing him apart.

Tonight, she’d take this rest.

[cowboywithdaddyissues]

[nevaehsloan]

I Brought You My Bullets || Nevaeh and Felicity

[wifibxtch-deactivated20161107]

        Another night in the Cave with no one but her computers to keep her company. Felicity had wanted–something when she had stepped down the stairs. Maybe company, maybe just purpose. With Oliver on trial and her doing, well, nothing, Felicity had nothing better to do than stare at her TV and worry.

         There was the off chance that some Starling City bad guy could distract her, but Nighthawk and new Arrow had everything handled. They were–scarily efficient. No matter the problem Felicity placed in their laps, Neveah or Jason returned within a matter of hours and a self-satisfied smirk. She worried, as per usual, about the price of their efficacy. So far no one had turned up dead…But those secret smiles belied a craftiness that Felicity didn’t want to try and contemplate. 

         She was scared. For the first time in her Foundry life, Felicity truly worried about the people she worked with. Who were they? What did they want? And would they be satisfied when they got it? 

         Losing herself in an oldie but goodie was the only option. Felicity focused her attention on running her avatar through the paces. Her mage completed quest after quest; all within in the span of a few hours. A princess saved here, a gauntlet collected there. At this rate, she would save Camelot before sunrise. 

         Until something jostled her perfectly positioned ergonomic chair and Felicity jumped about a foot into the air. She tried to slice the intruder with the flat of her palm as she came back down, but only succeeded in slapping a hand against her chest. 

         “Not if they’re trying to kill me!”

         Felicity breathed in twice, counting to three on each exhale. She was fine. Nevaeh didn’t want to hurt her. Everything was good. Maybe better than good? Apparently someone else didn’t want to spend their night all alone. 

         “I, yeah. Company is good. Nice, actually. Appreciated. Not that your company wouldn’t be appreciated at any other time, but now was sort of, well, fortuitous.” 

[nevaehsloan]

Nevaeh smiled with amusement and charm, pulling back to give Felicity room to breathe. Fucking adorable, every awkwardly endearing bit of her. Her smile faded back to her usual smirk as she sank down into another chair. “Fortuitous, hm?” she said slyly, nearly throwing a wink in, but deciding that would be too much. “Are you trying to tell me Fate wanted me to come down here, at just this time, so I could visit you?” She leaned back in her chair, still grinning at Felicity. “And you tried to attack me right off the bat. Who’s trying to kill who now?”

In all honesty, it wasn’t Fate so much as encroaching insanity that had driven her down here. What she wanted to be doing most was getting King the fuck out of play so she could figure out how to go about rebuilding her life. Until he was dead, she wasn’t safe, and she couldn’t make any moves. But the last two people who’d been helping spearhead the attack had gotten themselves all tangled up in that case in Gotham and she was left to handle it again. Which she couldn’t do without help. So instead of banging her head against the wall and snapping at whatever poor Russian came too close, she’d come down here. Down here was better.

Because Felicity was like a shot of something sweet and alcoholic: easy to swallow, lending a pleasant buzz to the mind.

She crossed one leg over the other, letting her head tilt leisurely on her hand. “If the games just aren’t doing it for you, princess, I can find ways to entertain you.”

[nevaehsloan]

I Brought You My Bullets || Nevaeh and Felicity

@wifibxtch

Nevaeh strolled down the stairs into the Arrowcave, this time having swapped the Nighthawk outfit for something more casual. As much as she liked having all her bases covered by Rex, she occasionally missed being on her own, not having anyone else wondering where she was. Not that he was smothering her, far from it. It was just the principle of the thing. So she was coming down here to have some quiet alone time where it was just her and a bunch of weapons, no Russian bodyguards in sight.

Or… not so lonely. One pretty little hacker sat at the computers, typing very seriously and staring quite intently at the screen. Nevaeh was no tech geek, but she was about 90% sure that was a video game displayed on the screens. She smiled slightly. She liked Felicity, despite disagreements on the best way to get through a fight. The girl was sweet and fun and just not complicated, which couldn’t be said for many people. Nevaeh wouldn’t mind getting wrapped around that particular finger. Or other things.

She sauntered over, then placed her hands on the back of Felicity’s chair. “I see you’re at it again with the magic fingers,” she said, leaning in for a better look at the screen. “It’s a little dark and lonely down here, princess. Company sound okay?”

[nevaehsloan]

Rex kissed her wet hair and closed his eyes. “We kill them together, as soon as we catch them. They take from you, they take from me. We do together, Nevaeh. But not tonight. Not tonight. Is okay to break for while; I tell no one. This just you, just me.” Switching to Russian, although he wasn’t sure she even understood it, Rex said, “The monsters will burn. No matter where they go, we’ll find them. We’ll find them.”

@aiming-at-darkness

[nevaehsloan]

Boom - Rex, Nevaeh

[aiming-at-darkness-deactivated2]

To their credit, neither of the men playing with the TV looked upset by Nevaeh playing with the gun. They both glanced over, but neither saw a problem with it; everyone carrying a gun should be familiar with it. They went back to watching the news, although the sound was down so low that they turned the subtitles on.

As for Rex, he raised an eyebrow slightly, but he nodded. This was a surprise to him, but a very welcome one. While he could not let himself imagine that anything romantic would happen between them, it was nice to think that she might at least let him hold her as they slept.

“We will share,” he affirmed, his voice a little softer than usual. Rex picked up his jacket and hung it up, then went into the bedroom she’d chosen to try and breathe a little life into it. He fluffed the pillows and remade the bed – checking for spiders more than anything else – and wiped the dust off of the bulbs in the lamps, off of the bedside table. There were a few beeswax candles in a drawer, and while they wouldn’t do much, they would at least help the air smell a bit more pleasant in there. Rex set them out on the cheap card table and lit them. There was nothing for them to bump against, no way for them to start a fire, so he went back out into the living room. 

Leaving Nevaeh to her own devices for now – although he was always paying attention to where she was and how she seemed to be doing – Rex took a burner out of a box and busied himself with getting his work done. He had shut his own cell phone off already– probably an unnecessary precaution, but one he was happy enough to take.

The next few hours passed quietly – the sound of quiet Russian conversations, the low hum of the TV, and the ticking of a cheap kitchen clock – but when Rex was finally done with the things he needed to do that night, he shut the burner off, wrote a few things down on the large sheet of butcher paper he’d tacked to the wall, then went in search of Nevaeh to see if she was even still awake. 

[nevaehsloan]

Checking out the two pistols quickly got old. Nevaeh did it twice for each, just for something to do, but too much repetition on something that didn’t even matter was bound to get her a one-way ticket to Crazy Town. She let it go, got up from her chair, and stretched. Through the ajar bedroom door, she could see Rex moving around, arranging things… dusting. For a big murder giant, he was really… very soft. And so quiet. Nevaeh was used to surrounding herself with loud, confident men, the fun and fast type, not the strong and silent type. He was better, for this situation. He was… consistent, and more trustworthy. She knew what to expect.

Didn’t mean he was permanent or anything, just meant he was good for now. More than likely, she’d have to clear out of Starling entirely. Maybe she’d go back to Nevada. Or even further, maybe back to Mexico, somewhere south of the border. Somewhere not here. Leave all of this shit behind, all the craziness that took so much away. Yeah, even Rex. He was great for now, but he was as disposable as everyone else. Just... had his uses. They’d run out. Everyone’s did, eventually.

She got so lost in her thoughts that it was a moment before she realized she was still just standing there, staring into the room. With a little shake, she pulled her hair away from her neck and went over to where the two Russian guards were watching TV. The news with subtitles. How exciting. She leaned on the back of the couch, watching for a moment, but there was a sense of anxiety creeping up at the thought that something very personal might appear on the news at any moment. “Can’t find anything more interesting?” she asked, reaching down to take the remote out of one guard’s hand. She flipped around a little, skipping PBS and Telenova in favor of something at once distracting and calming. The channel she settled on was the latest soccer game going on somewhere in Arizona.

“You like football?” asked one of the guards.

“Of course I do, my tall dark and scary friend,” she said, climbing over the back of the couch to sit between them. Squished between two large, armed Russian men tasked with protecting her was a very safe place to be. “Have you seen these football players? Hella abs on all of them. Every one. The best matches are the ones in the rain.”

They sat and watched for a while as Rex worked, the two guards offering their assistance every now and again. They’d occasionally comment on the game, but Nev usually did it in Spanish and the boys did it in Russian, so they weren’t really talking to each other, but they were. Amazing how many Russian words Nevaeh didn’t need to know to understand exactly what Russian #2 was talking about. 

She was also privately alternating between okay and approaching not okay. Every so often, the game would stop distracting her, and her heart would speed up, and she’d remember how the ground shook, and remember that this was it for her. 

She’d never go home again.

The game wasn’t quite over when she decided she’d rather go to bed. The day had been exhausting, to say the least, and sleep would be better than trying to suffer through this. She got off the couch without a word, paused by Rex’s table just to see what he was doing, then continued on into the bedroom. Not particularly a fan of sleeping in her clothes, she found a mis-matched stack of shirts and pants to try out. Selecting the largest shirt she could find, she stripped out of her clothes and settled into the dry, comfortable t-shirt. A little better. She climbed into the bed, sliding between the clean blankets, and closed her eyes.

She wasn’t sure how long she lay there, constantly changing positions, hitting the brink of real sleep only to be dragged back. Or drag herself back. It was frustrating, having so many moments of fear that would force her eyes open again, cause the cycle to repeat. She finally quit and just sat up, running a hand through her hair, fingers getting caught in the tangles. And she was still sitting there, staring out the window, when Rex finally came in.

She looked over at him, scooting back so she was all the way up on the bed again. “I just... can’t stop feeling like I’m not supposed to be sleeping right now,” she said, bringing her knees up to her chest. “I know you wouldn’t bring us here if you weren’t sure it was safe. I know your security measures. But, you know,” she rolled her eyes, as though this was a minor inconvenience rather than something preventing her from the rest she desperately needed, “try telling that to my increased heart rate.”

[circusgifs]

Gaby Teller…

[nevaehsloan]

Are you insane like me? Been in pain like me? Bought a hundred dollar bottle of champagne like me Just to pour that motherfucker down the drain like me?