#( staff files: Daniel Wells )

[hello-eden]

To Long Of A Wait

Tim hates being the one most well known for business on the civilian side.

Tim and Bruce are stuck at a dinner with Vladimir Masters. Tim has no idea who he's trying to impress; the sports team merch and Gothic Castle do not go well together. The two of them are there to find evidence of the money laundering and blackmail scheme that has all signs pointing to Masters.

The plan was originally for Bruce to keep him distracted and Tim to be able to search through the office but Vladimir Masters brought his heir with him. not much is known of his heir.

Daniel Nightingale is a 17-year-old transgender male who is Vladimir Masters' godson. He grew up in a small town with Amity Park That ended up going under lockdown because of some sort of sickness. 

Tim knows that the sickness is a cover story. It was some sort of Supernatural infestation but whether Daniel's parents were in the know or not he was sent away to live with his Godfather.

Daniel has been quite nice so far even if he looks very sick. Tim doesn't doubt that Vladimir is the one forcing him to go to this dinner.

Daniel waits only a few minutes after he is done before saying he is going to the bathroom. He is not even trying to conceal the fact he's trying to get as far as he can.

Tim waits 15 minutes before announcing he is going to the washroom too. Master's tries to offer for him to lead the way but Tim just says he remembers the tour and leaves.

—------------------------------------------

Tim turns into the hallway that has Vladimir Masters' work office. He's about to open the door when he hears the sound of throwing up. He waits there for a moment realizing that the bathroom Daniel is using is right beside the office. it is as far away from the dining room you can possibly go, which is probably why he used it. 

Tim hears the sound of washing hands and goes into the office. Behind him he locks the door and listens for Daniel to leave. He hears footsteps walk away.

Tim speeds quickly to the desk and looks over the files. He knows he doesn't have a lot of time especially if Daniel asks where he is. Tim doesn't find anything to concrete but he does find a couple of shady deals with an off branch of Cadmus and a few of the shader government departments. 

Tim takes a few photos and makes sure everything's in place before he walks out. He makes sure no one's in the hall and he walks back to the dining room. 

Tim goes on his phone making sure to hack into the security to corrupt the footage so that no one notices. they really should get better security Tim thinks before he hears talking. He hides behind the corner and hears is Daniel with who he assumes is a member of their staff. 

“I'm fine Trisha. it's just a little bit of morning sickness, I'm not dying” Tim can hear a little giggle at the end like they just told an inside joke

“ He shouldn't be making you go at all. You've had a very hard week." He hears a woman that he believes is Trisha start scolding Daniel.

 “It's not my first rodeo. I know what I'm doing. I have to last maybe another hour before I can get an excuse. I can last another hour.” Daniel tries to soothe Trisa.

 Tim is starting to think this is a whole lot more complicated

[terrence-silver]

I have a prompt for CK Terry (Season 5) with a younger woman (say her 30s?):

Daniel & co. manage to execute another infiltration plan, but unlike with Chozen (as "Joe"), this plan actually works, and now they've got a woman on the inside, working as a spy. Her main goal is to find something - anything - incriminating about Terry Silver, and to get out. After a few months, she finds some dirt on him, but he catches her alone in the dojo before she can make her escape with the evidence. I'm imagining him as having trusted her and been attracted to her, but feel free to change his feelings to suit your desires (I'm hoping they will be suitably diabolical, as mine are!).

Thank you as always for your wonderful words!

FATALITY, FIDELITY, FORMALITY

(Terry Silver x Reader)

---

-"Find what you were looking for?"-

Your heart leaps into your throat when you hear that voice and a flash of everything you diligently strived to achieve so far goes collapsing in front of your eyes like a waking fever dream; Terry Silver was right behind you, standing on the threshold and he’s caught you rummaging through a study desk drawer and of course he made no sound, not even the most meager announcement of his presence or any of his movements, footsteps, as always, catching you unaware while somewhere deep down you desperately hoped that he too was human, and that he too, as such, would make the simple mistake of being at least barely audible when sneaking up on you so that you could avoid him. Intercept him. Cease whatever you were doing and make yourself scarce. Rely on the faint hope the coast would be clear while you were incriminating yourself like this. Stop before you were spotted, outright, bending over the work surface, hand gripping a manilla file in a heated rush. Once he moves forward, with a smile, leisurely, like he wasn’t in a hurry, you forget to breathe.

-"It amazes me that you’re really here thinking someone’s gonna throw a fit over a copy of a document on depleted Uranium from 1979. Most people don’t even know what that is."-

He was laughing. He was laughing at you.

Your panicking eyes dart back and forth between him and the folder you were squeezing for dear life, a sudden flash of shame washing over you like a searing hot shower, causing the top of your scalp to sweat and your guts to start coiling deep inside of you belly; point was, you spent six months alone just building up the territory and the trust to even dream of recovering as much as you recovered, feeling, no, being convinced you were on the verge of something important only for him to show up and snicker in your face like you were an idiot. An idiot going through a flash of so much dread you swore you were frozen stiff and unable to move. Terry Silver was a tough nut to crack. There was always insinuation of some sort of maliciousness and malpractice behind the corner, somewhere, out of reach, but never any concrete evidence and like a string pulled away before you could grab onto its end, you were always further and further away from discovering any actual dirt on the man. Not even continuous and meticulous Google searches yielded anything on him. It's like everything was scrubbed and his name was perfectly pristine. He was someone who was frighteningly clean where his reputation was concerned. Larusso’s firm sent you in to scoop out the place, but you couldn’t even find something as stereotypical as mistreatment of staff which was the go-to scandal with these big, rich guys. Making inappropriate passes at the maid. Being prejudiced towards the racial background of his chauffeur, for example. Not even that much. Terry Silver treated his employees surprisingly well and even amicably. Better than anyone you’ve ever seen so far. You gulp hard once you catch him stepping even closer; the grace of a panther.

You needed a defense for yourself. A way out. A lie. Anything.

Somehow to rationalize why you were going through his stuff like this.

But, it was all blank. Blank. Blank.

You felt faint. Sick.

-"Not to mention, I singled that one out for you and I caught you red handed like I knew I would. Fingers deep in the jam. You really think someone’s stupid enough to keep damning things where anyone can just waltz in and take them and waltz back out like it’s an episode of Looney Tunes?"-

He shakes his head, snapping his fingers jokingly, chuckling into his own chin, but you could tell the smile never reached his eyes; something sharp and dangerous behind them, sticking out like needles. He was angry. Validly, he had every right to be. Except, you never planned on getting caught or having to face his ire. You hoped you’d be far away by now. Far from him. He wasn’t supposed to be here in the first place. His dojo office should’ve been closed. The whole gym compound should’ve been. Classes dismissed until two days from now. The whole weekend ahead. The very fact he was here was unpredictable. Unexpected. You could’ve swore you came to understand his schedules by now. His comings and his goings. You could’ve swore there wasn’t any mistake in your observations. You could’ve! -"Terry, I —"- You stutter, unsure how to finish your own sentence, standing there in limbo, trying to catch his bluff around the fact that you recovered evidence he planted for you to find, feeling your knees shake with indignity. If you had a secret you wanted to hide real badly, you supposed…well, you supposed you’d hide it as well as possible too. Never somewhere where someone else could see it. Take it. But, you were desperate. So desperate. For anything. Any clue. Any bit of anything. Any straw to grasp at. That you were willing to take anything at this point and run with it, even risk being seen by the cameras riddled all over the dojo, because, to hell with it — you didn’t plan on returning to this place, this city or this side of the country ever again. You needed anything, if it meant it could make the slightest bit of difference. You never did this before. That’s why Daniel Larusso picked you. The less you had to hide, the more innocent and seemingly inexperienced of any wrongdoing, bad intentions or foul play you were, the more convincing your act would be. But, it was an act. All an act. And at this point, Terry’s face to face with you, only the desk’s surface separating you like a wall, his finger eagerly tapping its polished finish like a tickling time bomb. -"Make an excuse. Go ahead. I really wanna hear it."- His shark-like teeth on display, you decide to tell the truth. At least a fragment of it, certain he already knew what he knew.

-"I was sent here."-

-"I know you were."-

Terry chides with an almost impossible ease that nonetheless sends shivers down your spine.

-"How does it feel that your supposed friends pushed you into the lion’s den alone with no backup, huh?"-

He shrugs, visibly taunting and the pit in your stomach only deepens, hollow, entirely empty.

-"Some friends."-

He adds, tilting his head to the side once he caught your eyes scrutinizing the nearby windows.

Assessing whether you should jump out through them or not.

Life wasn’t a movie. You knew you’d end up scared, broken bones, bruised and all.

And he knew that much too, something knowing twinkling deep inside of his eyes, almost daring you.

You feel the hand grasping at the folder growing limp, suddenly hopeless.

-"Larusso’s shacked up with his family and his guest from Okinawa is enjoying his Californian vacation while you’re here risking your life for them, without anything to gain from it and everything to lose."-

Terry purses his lips, self-content and positively dripping venom and you look away from him.

The embarrassment weighing down on you like an anvil.

Suddenly, you felt a burning, overwhelming sensation you didn’t feel a moment ago.

You felt dirty. Somehow used. Disposable. A useful fool.

-"Did they at least pay you?"-

-"It’s not about money."-

You rush back in with a hasty retort, stumbling over your own words, vigorously shaking your head.

You needed to maintain at least the illusion of dignity.

Integrity.

Fact was, you never paid a dime and you never wanted to be paid a dime.

Terry snorts crudely. Like he's just about heard the funniest joke in the World.

-"What is it about then?"-

His thighs move slowly, doing a smooth turn, finger still maintained firmly planted on the center of the desk, like the needle of a compass, the bejeweled ring on it in the limelight of your vision. What was it about? Did you have a clear cut answer? Except peer pressure? Feeling talked into it? Both directly and indirectly guilted into doing all of this? Thinking you were doing a good deed? That this was as easy as getting in and getting out?

-"Playing vigilante?"-

He drawls with a voice challengingly laced and no — that wasn’t it.

-"Truth, justice and the American way?"-

No.

-"The honor of rummaging inside of someone’s desk drawers?"-

No, no. You wanted to sob out. Inching further into the side of the wall.

Hoping to disappear.

Hoping he’d stop advancing forward and cornering you in.

Your body reacting violently, overtaking by a sudden shiver of sheer terror.

-"The possibility of Danny-boy and his pretty wife inviting you to a country club cookout and giving you a car discount one day if you ingratiate yourself to them hard enough?"-

His tone was oozing venom and sarcasm and you understood what he was trying to do; he was trying to humiliate your efforts and cheapen their worth, and worst of all, it was working like a charm, an unexpected flash of jealousy jabbing at your heart at the notion Terry would call any other woman pretty, no matter how pretty she actually was. Were you envious? This wasn’t the time to be envious. This was the time to be scared shitless. Your fingers stiffen and the folder you thought would make such a vast difference slips out of your hand and onto the floor beside your quivering feet, landing somewhere underneath the desk. At that point, you felt your vision blur and tears unwittingly flood your eyesight, flowing down the edge of your cheeks. The look Terry gives you seems oddly tender then, through the haze. Somehow fatherly. Like he was genuinely trying to understand how you scraped your knee due to your own negligence. You felt like a lost child. Vulnerable. Jittery. Wordlessly pleading forgiveness. -"What?"- He asks again, words barely above a whisper and you shrug through shivering sobs, ineptly, having no response for him as his eyes searched your face even as you tried to look at everything but directly at him regardless of the fact he was inches away, bending forward, towards you, to catch your gaze by force. Ultimately, his finger props itself underneath your chin, hoisting your stare towards him. -"Betraying someone who wined you, dined you, let you inside of his home, fucked you in his own bed — is that it?"- A seductive sheen flashes over his face and his wrinkles and you try to scoot away, as far as the wall and the desk allowed you to go from the way he beamed at you, the statement making you feel lower than ever before. This was a relationship and you trampled over it. You shattered his trust. That was the point right from the get go. Didn’t make it feel any less difficult, though. Suddenly, what the dread in your gut has been anticipating all along happens and he reaches forward, grabbing your hair, fingers tangling in the strands and dragging you forward towards him with all the violence contained in his eyes.

You yelp.

You knew everything so far was merely the calm before the storm and you were partially paralyzed, too afraid to move lest you trigger it into motion prematurely.

-"You broke the basic rules of hospitality! The two F’s! Fidelity towards your host’s privacy and enough formality not to crap all over their belongings!"-

Terry’s jaw tightens dangerously and he practically spits his words as you squint your eyes shut, desperately — as more of a feeble, last-resort self-defense mechanism rather than anything else — not daring to look at his expression up close in that moment, your own arm reaching forward and digging its nails into his skin by instinct, trying to alleviate whatever pressure he was placing there, hopefully avoiding your scalp getting ripped out of its roots, your lids only bolting open by accident, once you felt the rough, course texture of a wet, hot something dragged along the surface of your cheek followed by a gush of searing breath and the scent of saliva only to realize Terry was licking away your tears, angry chuckles lining the rhythm of what he was saying. -"What you get is the third, decisive F; the fatality of thinking I should be screwed around with."- He hisses and you spot the edge of uncharacteristic desperation in him, eyes appearing bloodshot, cold, wild, enraged and there and then — you’re dragged by the hair, stumbling behind him in wide strides on the corridor outside of his study, groaning at the sudden onslaught of pain. You knew then, the only reason he was telling you all of this was so you’d understand how profoundly you fucked up. So he’d relish your fear. Your pain. Your terror. Your stare bolts up. The cameras were off. The red blinking dot on the side of the device nowhere to be seen anymore. That could’ve easily meant that the exists have long since been shut off. The entrances. The gates. The whole dojo estate under lockdown. Security undoubtedly on the gates. There was no way in. No way out. You were effectively trapped, hauled forward towards your own doom, hyperventilating, digging in your feet against the sleek black tiles, hoping it’ll slow him down, only for Terry to yank your hair forward even harder, until you cried out and your voice echoed across the empty hallway, going entirely unheard. Deep down, you knew what he said was correct; you were risking your life out here while everyone else was safe and sound. The Larusso’s were probably having a meal by now, judging by the hour, Chozen Toguchi in tow, gathered together in the family dinning room over some homemade Lasagna. You could see them all so clearly it made you ache. How none of them were here now to save you, but even if they were, could they really?

Would they?

-"You know what happened to John Kreese!?"-

Terry simmers, looking ahead, sauntering down the foyer, pulling you along.

You knew, of course you knew. You didn’t walk into this situation entirely ignorant.

The fact that topic was brought up now only served to push the fear of God into your very bones.

-"And I knew that man for half a century!"-

Terry yells, so suddenly, it practically makes you jump even while restrained like this.

-"Loved that man for half a century!"-

He continues, wrathful, burning eyes fixated straight ahead in determination as he marched.

-"Owed my life to him for half a century! Longer than you've been alive!"-

There’s a growl of finality when he finally reaches a large, dark door, enraged as he pulled the metal knob, practically shoving you inside and all you’re met with is darkness. Somehow, momentarily, it’s more welcoming than the artificial sharp halogen lights of the dojo or his twisted sneer; it’s a short lived mercy as the neon pipes overhead flicker up and you hear the thud of a door closing somewhere in the pitch blackness, all sound losing its echo. Once the sound padded abyss clears, Terry stands in front of a sealed entrance of an otherwise empty chamber, sauntering forward like an Eldritch horror, all long limbs clad in black and an an icy sneer. His index finger pointing at you. Accusing vigorously. A single strand of hair falling loose from his ponytail, settling disheveled on his forehead. -"If I did what I did to him, what do you think I’ll do to some six month long two-bit trick!?"- He growls, appearing genuinely disgusted and you fold your hands over your chest. That hurt. That really hurt. So much so you could feel it vibrating inside of you, even though you felt you shouldn’t have been surprised. Those words. You did this because…well…because you were judged, in actuality. The pressure of you being with someone so much older. The criticism. The looks. The fact you knew you were talked about and that you couldn’t help but be bothered everyone viewed your association with Silver as a negative; something to be commented upon. Amanda Larusso asking what you had to gain out of the arrangement like you were someone who’s company was paid for. Like you were no better than a rich man's whore. The guilt you felt over it. The anger at yourself that you were viewed this way even though your connection wasn’t monetary. That you weren’t seen as an equal and probably never would be. You rushed to prove yourself. To prove your substance to people who had no right to demand you prove a thing, only to end up being encouraged to do something you shouldn’t have done and make an enemy out of someone you knew very well was powerful enough to destroy you. You sink to your knees in desperation. You had no way to take any of it back and fuck knows what he was going to do to you now because of it. You cry out, utterly crestfallen. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid, self-sabotaging, overly complicated, insecure idiot. That’s what you were. -"Please! No!" - Was there ever going to be any mercy given, though? He had no mercy. Not towards enemies. He had no mercy towards friends either according to his own story. Not when he was crossed. And you did more than just cross him, you knew. You shat over months spent together so you could get the approval of individuals you were certain didn’t even like you all that much.

Least of all, Terry himself.

-"Now, here’s the agenda; you’re never leaving this place."-

He approaches, towering over you and you scoot back, hugging your knees to your chest defensively.

The one feeble wall between you and him.

His eyes pink and red. Why did it look like he was on the verge of tears himself?

You’re too stunned to speak.

Did...did this whole thing hurt him too? Emotionally, that is?

The heartbreak type of hurt?

You wanted to cry out for him. Instead of him.

-"Of course they’ll come looking for you, your supposed friends, but not because they give a crap about you. They’ll try to use your disappearance as a proof against me, but it’ll only end up biting them in the ass."-

He chuckles coldly, his jaw shaking as he spoke, looking down at you, practically shivering with wrath. He somehow seemed just as upset as you were, if not more, yet simultaneously sharp and unyielding enough to split atoms. -"If they say it’s suspicious that you entered my property and never left, I’ll simply ask how they know the whereabouts of my estate and social circle in the first place."- He makes yet another step towards you, until his legs loom above you, like an archway, causing you scoot even further into the vast emptiness of what seemed like the entrance of a pristine, minimalist cellar. Clean. Antiseptic. Windowless. No way out but in front of you, barred by his body, undoubtedly automatically locked. Terry Silver, always a proponent of the state of the art high tech. -"If they keep pushing it, they’ll just give themselves away and eventually open their mouths about the fact they’ve sent you here deliberately to endanger my privacy, that’ll only serve as proof of illegal entry and the conspiracy to spy."- He gives you a sudden grin, self-content, smug, but still reeling with rage. You were certain that however this situation was twisted and turned, he’d come out on top and that you screwed up, royally, ironically, risking the most and paying the steepest price for it. You were lucky if he didn’t kill you here and now, and God, all things considered, it would’ve been piety in the vastly creative line-up all the things you knew he was capable of and yet had no direct proof of. He cocks his head to the side, his mouth appearing fleshier than ever, hungry, oddly snake like, curved upwards. -"And you know what we used to do to spies during the war?"- He inquires, practically purring and you want to beg. You want to beg so badly. Just kill me, you desired to plead. Just kill me and collect your moral payback and revenge that way, but please, please, please, don’t martyr me.

-"They were making fun of me, Terry, please, understand."-

The truth suddenly slips out, unbidden, ugly, raw, uncomfortable and vulnerable.

And those words are gone, set loose, escaping across the threshold of your mouth before you can push them back inside and swallow them whole.

You liked Terry, but didn’t feel comfortable being viewed as merely someone’s arm candy. As someone’s attractive sidepiece. As someone sponsored by a man decades your senior. Correction being; it never crossed your mind to be genuinely bothered by anything until someone else pointed it out and the seed they planted germinated until you found yourself revolting, ready to do something truly suicidal purely so you’d be seen as more than what you were assigned from the point of view of others. It was revolting, really; agreeing to spy on the man you were seeing just on the off chance you’d be considered more than an expensive kept woman. A sugar baby. Now, here you were, thrown down on the basement floor, hugging your own torso for comfort and digging your teeth into your lower lip, looking up at him with the most apologetic look you could muster. Forgive me, it was meant to say. The stare you get back from him is harrowing. His fingers reach forward, grasping at both sides of your cheeks, pressing down on the tender flesh there, mushing your face beneath his thumbs until your lips pop, forcibly puckered. -"And you wimped out and collapsed under the slightest bit of peer pressure from people who aren’t even your peers."- He squeezes your face, gloating, hindering your ability to speak properly without muttering, humiliation burning through you like a searing haze. He was right. He was so right about everything, albeit, a little too content compared to his ire from a moment ago. Like he actually rather relished the development of this situation now that impressions finally settled in. You weren’t certain if you preferred him angry in this context, or seemingly happy. You weren’t certain what daunted you more, even more so when his index and middle finger pushed past your lips, grabbing the tip of your tongue, pulling at it with a pillar of saliva trickling down your chin as you groaned in pain, your neck moving forward, following the route he was dragging you towards. This was pure sadism for sadism’ sake. Nothing more. You eyes dart down, catching his other free hand tinkering with the buckle of his belt, the metallic clamor of the sound ringing out like the bells of doom.

Somewhere in the back of your head, fear and desire clash.

-"Well, down here, nobody’s gonna see. Nobody’s gonna know. Nobody makes the rules of convention but me. And I can have you all to myself."-

Terry’s brow shoots up, seeming self content. Triumphant.

His fingers digging into the tent in his trousers and his fist squeezing around the hard cock he pulled out his pants, facing you, thighs spread and zipper down. What was he going to do? Was he just going to keep you down here? For how long!? Was it so he could just abuse your flesh in retaliation for what he caught you doing? Make you disappear that way? Ensure you’re never seen, never heard from again? Panic settles in slowly, way too slowly, torturously so, washing over you like an arctic breeze from afar. Your first instinct was to call for help, but you knew then, help wouldn’t come. There was nobody to help you. He beams down on you, gleefully, almost like he could read the train of your thoughts once your fingers hooked themselves into the antiseptic, minimalistic black wall-to-wall carpet beneath you, hooking your nails into the threads, bracing yourself.

-"You were afraid of being seen as a mindless whore, but if the shoe fits —"-

He coos, cocking his head, bringing his tip to the precipice of your mouth.

Pushing.

Not asking whether you wanted to receive it.

-"Then it’s best to wear it."-

He adds, almost purring, eyes burning into you as your lips part, causing you to groan, embarrassed.

Saliva, right there, on your tongue, hot, anguished, ready to trickle down your chin.

He was going to fuck you, and fuck you and fuck you, but you knew, even know —

Beforehand, there would be degradation. There would be humiliation.

Discipline.

-"Only lubrication you’ll get, so make it count. There will be pain."-

He warns, once he catches your hesitation in making his cock wet, kneeling on the rug, paralyzed.

And yes, the pain. How could you forget the pain.

Perhaps, if you bit down on his dick now it would make him so infuriated he’d just finish you off on the spot.

You consider it.

You’re not sure what stops you. Perhaps it’s what he uttered then.

-"But, you’re a glutton for punishment, aren’t you?"-

He taunts, tilting his face to the side and the deep abiding shame burns its way into your skull, settling down there, like a plague. -"Yes."- You muster. You felt you deserved this. Deserved it for getting caught so stupidly. Deserved it for not being confident enough. Faltering under other's people judgement. For being bothered with they thought and said about you. For betraying someone in the hopes you'd impress someone else. For thinking that if you backstab Terry Silver, you'd be respected more by some vague margin, when truthfully, could a traitor ever really be respected even if it's an objectively bad person they're doing it to? Did you really think Amanda and Daniel would pat you on the back and be your friends and sleep soundly with you around and never think that if you could do this to the man you were dating, you'd never do it to them in some other shape, way or form? A tear slides down your cheeks. You did this all for nothing. Terry grabs your jaw to get your attention. -"I can’t hear you! Louder! With conviction!"- He seethes, holding his length in his hand, practically slapping you with it, the precum leaking from his tip leaving a wet patch on your cheeks intermingled with your tears. -"Yes, I am!"- You huff, squeezing your eyes shut. It was too embarrassing. Too embarrassing. Too embarrassing. -"You’re a what!? Extended sentences!"- He demands, the subjective impression given that his nails were digging holes into the sides of your face with the ferocity of his grip on you. You were certain the bruises would show, in so many patterns. You shriek. -"I’m a glutton for punishment!"- The words come out, peddled forward by pain. -"And are you anything more than my robot!? Mind, body and soul!?"- He asks, verbally tenderizing the most hidden, sensitive part of you. The part of you that led you to do all of this in the first place. The want to be independent. Strong. Someone with agency. More than just eye candy. Someone's lover. Someone's company. You cared for him, you did, but you needed to be a little more than that. If you wanted to stay sane, it was a requirement. -"It’s too much. That’s too much. Don’t."- You plead, desperately shaking your head as far as his fingers holding you allowed you and then he gives you that stare. That unblinking, cold stare. Devoid of all light. All warmth. All understanding. You falter, like you always did.

-"I’m no more than your robot."-

You capitulate, wantonly, willingly and it was disgusting.

Disgusting how liberatingly it instantly felt.

To acknowledge you were his.

His lover, his whore, his hole, his heart, his everything.

You weren't cut out to be a spy. One for subterfuge. Double crossing. Relaying secrets to a third party. You were cut out to be the warm, soft someone he returns to and that was it. A boudoir kitten. Soft satin beds. His embrace. Made for his lips and his lips alone. You gulp as the realization settles in as hard and as heavy as a rock, both punishing with shame and freeing you of all bonds. You were fighting against the certainty of the incoming tide when there was no point so fiercely combating your own nature. -"Mind, body and soul, Terry."- You asses, gulping hard, practically hiccupping with an onslaught of raggedy breathing. Whore, whore, whore, your subconsciousness struggles. You're a whore, it calls out. -"The correct title’s sir."- Terry reminds casually, letting your jaw go, causing you to goddamn nearly tumble back, sprawled across the carpet. Your hand instantly takes to massaging the sore his grip left behind. He advances, cock in hand. Fear and desire clash. -"Sir. Please."- You drawl once he's close enough to smell; all salt and heavy musk. -"Say 'Aah'"- He teases and you do something on instinct, because every atom of willpower in you spasms at once from conflicting sides, hot and cold meeting, bidding you to obey; you open your mouth and your tongue unfurls, receiving his cock, your gut saying yes and every bit of logic and sense still present in your brain telling you no, tears streaming and dripping down your face unbidden, almost like they were mourning you and the fact how much you ached right now. How dubious and messed up this all was, yet how much you were here, on the floor, kneeling and sucking dick like everything you so fiercely avoided being seen as. Terry didn't seem to mind your reaction one bit, though. In fact, he encouraged it. God, if Amanda could see you now. If Daniel could. If Chozen could. How disappointed they'd be? They'd all nod in unison and probably think to themselves they were fools to ever believe you could amount to anything more. But, did you want to, though? That was the question? Did you want to be anything more than Terry's? Did you really? -"Go ahead. Cry."- He coos, patting your head with a sense of encouragement that has you longing, his voice emanating a deep rumble once he's inside of you and you moan on instinct, letting him settle around your lips. Funny that. How you were fighting this so hard just a moment ago.

Well, at least one part of you still was, soldiering on.

Holding unto sanity by a thin, loose thread.

Eyes still hazy with crying.

-"It’s all junk anyway. Weakness purged. The type of bullshit that led you to crap over me the way you did! Playing at independence like a kid plays with a toy castle."-

His voice hits your ears like velvet.

With a filled, muffled mouth, you nod, opening your eyes.

Looking up at him.

I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry, sweetie.

His hand caresses your wet cheek as your head bobbed back and forth.

You groan into the gentleness of the contact.

-"We’ll have all the time in the world to train those tear ducts down here. Get rid of excess junk."-

Terry firmly believed weakness manifests itself through emotional reactions sometimes; crying, screaming, bleeding, sweating, pain, even cumming after sex. That this was the body's way of getting rid of things, by effectively self-cleaning --- a process that very well should've been embraced, if not encouraged. He told you this once and explained it elaborately over a candle-lit dinner and it remained embedded in your memory ever since --- and told you again now, smiling at you, like he was pleased by something unfathomable; you shiver, your imagination momentarily not being developed enough to even conceive of what'll happen to you down here. What are all the ways he'll seek to purge you, as he so delightfully put it. But, you supposed you were both far past being coy, and that you were in deep enough shit as it was, so when he pulls back, his length plopping out of your mouth with a moist popping sound, leaving a trickling droplet of spit to leak down your chin, almost like he predicting you'd ask, catching your breath, in a rare flash of bravado, you do just that.

-"What are you going to do to me!?"-

-"Turn you into meat."-

He explains with a blissed out chuckle. You freeze up in primordial dread.

Your cunt itching for him.

His hands lift you then, almost in a loving gesture. Loving. Yes, loving.

Causing you to slump against him once he grabs hold of your face.

Forcing you to look at him. Really look at him.

-"And then? I'm going to perfect you because you're mine to do with as I like."-

[simeffable]

SIMS 4 X LOST UPDATE!

As mentioned a few weeks ago, my expansion will now include a save file containing a customised Sulani to become ‘The Island’, with Dharma stations, crash sites and landmarks. Regular updates on progress are posted here. More info below the cut!

‘The Island’ will have a custom name (specific to the save file) and optional map. The custom map for Sulani will be included separately (as CC).

14 LOTS

Fuselage Crash Site–functional beach lot complete with CC Oceanic 815 plane fuselage wreckage.

Tail Section Crash Site + Widmore’s Freighter–functional beach lot complete with CC Oceanic 815 tail section wreckage housing tail section survivors and functional (possibly residential) freighter off-land.

The Swan–functional underground community/generic lot.

The Pearl–functional underground generic lot.

The Orchid–decorative above-ground well and ruins, and functional underground secret lab lot.

The Flame–functional residential lot housing Mikhail, with small holding of cattle and chickens.

The Tempest–functional library lot.

The Staff–functional generic lot with Ethan’s nursery for baby Aaron, wards and surgeries.

The Hydra–functional above-ground smallholding with functional underground generic/community lot complete with holding cells, Ben’s office, surveillance room and more.

The Looking Glass–functional under-water generic lot.

The Lighthouse–decorative generic lot.

The Barracks–rentable residential units (For Rent) housing Ben, Juliet, Alex and Richard, recreation room unit (functional), security and infirmary.

The Temple–functional pool lot.

‘Dharmaville’–recreation centre lot with Welcome Center, children’s playground (functional), cafeteria (possibly functional restaurant depending on capability in-game), ‘school’ (decorative) and Motor Pool (decorative).

11 LANDMARKS (Using @twistedmexi’s T.O.O.L mod off-lot features)

Henry Gale’s Balloon

Rose and Bernard’s Cabin (functional but not residential)

The Black Rock

The Ruins

The Other’s Camp

The [Foot] Statue with underground room.

The Radio Tower (hopefully functional in some capacity)

Frank/Daniel/Charlotte/Miles’s Helicopter

Ajira 316

The Heart of the Island/‘The Cork’

⭑ ★ ⭑ ˗ ˏˋ ❀ ´ˎ ˗ ⭑ ★ ⭑

As my ambitions have expanded with this project, I have relieved my initial time limit/release date of September 2024. It will simply be ready when it’s ready, but definitely before the end of the year. I hope you can all understand that I unfortunately have a real life outside of Sims, and I thank you for all of your support with this project!

[preet-01]

blinking my big wet eyes at you what are your maxiel political au ideas

Anything for you ☺️ so this au is set in the US because that’s the election process/political system/geography I know best. Max is a Senator from New York and his family doesn’t have any political background. Daniel is from a very prominent political family (think Kennedys, Roosevelts, the Bush family) and his dad is the former governor of California. Daniel met Sebastian at either Yale when he was doing his undergraduate degree or at Georgetown when he was getting his JD. At the start of the story, Daniel is a constitutional lawyer.

Ideally, the story would go from about 3 years before the campaign trail to announcing a reelection bid. Here’s a bit from the campaign trail

“Why does the campaign trail always have to start in bumfuck, USA?” Daniel groans as they’re driven from the airport to the hotel they’re staying in. Their bus is filled with campaign staff, but Daniel, Max, and Sebastian are sat in the back. They should be going over a plan or the schedule of events. But Daniel had found a new hate of Iowa’s endless farms and corn. God he missed DC, hell even New Haven had been better than this, California and New York even better.

Iowa is not on the list of states that Daniel would like to visit. Like what even is in Iowa?? He’s never found out, nor does he particularly care to find out. But their country seems to be beholden to the whims of Iowa when it comes to the campaign trail.

Despite not being representative of the country’s population, the Iowa caucus remains the first campaign event. So much so that it’s written into law or something like that they remain the first event of the trail — one of his professors at Yale had grumbled about it a lot from what he remembers.

“It’s a longstanding tradition, Daniel,” Max says, unlike Daniel, he’s got a file in hand filled with important information about Iowa and its goddamned corn. “Did you know that Iowa’s eastern and western borders are made almost entirely of rivers? They are the only state where this is so,” Max says. With a quick glance at the file in Max’s hand, Daniel realizes that this is not a fact that is written out, but one that Max just knows.

“I did not know that, Maxy,” Daniel replies because what else is he to say to that?

“Don’t be so glum about being in the middle of nowhere, Iowa is the ice cream capital of the world. So you get to eat all the ice cream you want at most of the campaign events in Iowa,” Seb kindly informs him. Well that’s something to look forward to, he supposes.

After a while, Seb leaves them in the back and goes towards the front where the press secretary is.

Bored of the endless corn that makes up his view, Daniel turns his attention to his dear husband. In their DC and New York brownstones, they’d kept separate bedrooms despite being ‘married’ for almost three years now. But on the campaign trail, Seb had told them that they would need to share a bedroom. Lest the opposition or press find out that the Senator from New York does not have the picture perfect marriage that most people are jealous of.

“You should fuck me tonight,” Daniel states with no preamble. And as expected, Max sputters.

“What??” His precious file is completely forgotten as he looks at Daniel with his big blue eyes and yeah Daniel wants to get fucked tonight. Specifically by his husband — it had been much too long since the last time it happened in his opinion.

[nalyra-dreaming]

I'm not sure what to make of photos that weren't Louis' being in the collection shown to Daniel. I feel like Armand put them there to help Louis come across as a better artist than he truly is, perhaps echoing Armand 'tinkering' with Louis' memories to help him come across as a better person than he truly is. Thoughts?

Mhhhhhhhhhhhh.

I am not sure. Armand seemed genuinely baffled as well. I think if it had been him he had been better equipped for the fight about it later, if that makes sense?

I mean... why would "staff" (maybe Rashid) put other photos in there - and ones they thought Daniel would recognize as "not Louis'"?

Except to help the unraveling along, of course. That is also why Daniel has been given the Talamasca files... which in turn makes it unlikely imho that it was actually the Talamasca who did so.

Because what is there to gain for the Talamasca to unravel the tale?

No, this is a personal matter, and it has everything to do with the memory loss of both Louis and Daniel, imho.

Someone... wants them to remember. Someone wants to break up Dubai, and Daniel's life, too.

Someone very powerful - more powerful than Armand - is steering all this. Imho :)

[lordgrimoire]

@spacedace You have inspired me, Have a Gift

“Donnie, Ringer, Are you sure you want to do this?” The Penguin cared about his people, The Goonion recommended him for a lot of reasons, that was one of the mains. 

“Yeah, ‘sides, isn’t like we have a TON of options in passing messages, not enough to hint at the Kids’ hometown, nor enough to hint at the GIW, hell I Didn’t even know half of us are Ecto marked or whatever. Boss, it’s my idea, ‘sides, I’ll finally use those vacation days I’ve been savin up!” Oswald Copplepot sighed.

“Fine, fine, just, no bein a fool right? Least not more than you usually are.” The Ringer, one of The Penguin’s older musclemen, nodded back to him, tapping his cigar out and carefully sealing it back in it’s case before handing it to his boss.

“A message like this needs an, appropriate touch, just as any grey hair knows.” Oswald nodded, patted one of his oldest hitters on the back, and went back inside, he had business to run, and a phone to keep near.

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

The Ringer ambushed Red Robin, probably at the best time for one as well, the baseball bat cracked against Red Robin’s Bo staff, but still succeeded is dislodgeing the Bird’s grappling hook. Red Robin fell silently and well, lunging up into a stance before pausing at the rather relaxed way The Ringer was standing, grey hair peaking out from his cap as he and the Bird stared. 

“Listen,” The Ringer began, not moving his fists from his pockets. “Something’s been goin on, the Goonion and the Boss haven’t been able to find out what, we were tipped off by some odd behavior. Ya know those two kids the Boss took in recently? They’re cousins of his, that’s all I’ll say out loud but, suffice to say,” He drew one fist out of his jacket pocket, a pair of USB sticks held in his open hand. “They are safer here than where they came from, and we know we’re not armed enough to deal with it, we can protect ‘em here, but we can’t deal with the root.” Red Robin, frantically trying to figure out why The Ringer was doing this, picked up what he needed to know, Jazz and Daniel [It’s Danny], Fenton, cousins of a sort of Oswald Copplepot had been given to him in a slightly strange sounding custody battle that hadn’t even been one, and had moved faster than many other Custody Battles usually did. 

“I’ll look over the info, but why are you so invested in this?” The Ringer shrugged as he dropped the two sticks into Red Robin’s outstretched hand. 

“They’re good kids,” The Ringer leaned in, “And the Feddie Organization that back’s their ‘rent’s seems reaal interested in ‘em. And that’s not even counting their excuse of a Godfather.” The Ringer leaned back onto his heels. “Now, in order to make this look like properly gained info, beat the tar outta me, cuz if ya don’t I’m likely to drive my happy arse all the way over there to do some hole punching.” Red Robin nodded, stashed the two thumb drives in his belt, and proceeded to beat the tar out of Donavan “The Ringer” O’Malley with the Thug giving half as good as he got, the frontline thug would file with the Goonion two days later for the “Stolen Bones by Bird Package” and take his well earned vacation days AND sick days, in that order.

The Bats on the other hand, were now very aware of a cover up that could easily have resulted in deaths, and a Government Organization none of them had ever heard of.

[lo-diehards]

2024 TV Season Analysis – Organized Crime Tops the Franchise, Law & Order Better, SVU Needs an Overhaul

The 2023-24 TV season has been a truncated TV season of 13 episodes, due the ongoing WGA/SAG-AFTRA strikes that happened last year. A lot of scripted TV was back burned until the strikes ended. TV writers struck their deal first and were back to work promptly, long before actors/actresses, this should have given time to plan out their already short season. Production crunched for 13 episodes to be shot between late November until this coming week, where SVU and mother ship reboot will be wrapping up shooting their finale episodes.

But where does this season grade in its entirety? I’m going to summarize – as much as I can - my views on where the franchise stands for this season from best to worst. Click below to read.

Organized Crime – The best in the franchise creatively, hands down!

New show runner/executive producer John Shiban (The X-Files) and his writing staff understood their assignment and have definitely delivered. Organized Crime is the most entertaining series in the franchise this season, week-over-week. The storylines are so fleshed out and they don’t drag on as they had since the series started. Shiban has shifted focus to the OC main characters and their backstories as well as expanding on the OC unit in its entirety. We’ve even seen 2 of SVU’s former stars show up (Tamara Tunie, Chief M.E. Melinda Warner / Dann Florek, Donald Cragen) as well as an appearance by Peter Scanavino (ADA Dominick Carisi). We have even been introduced to more of Stabler’s family, his brothers – portrayed by guest stars Dean Norris and Michael Trotter – and while they’ve come in and shook things up for Stabler, one thing I can point out, it’s the first season since OC premiered where I haven’t felt that Elliot Stabler is on a quest for vengeance or retribution of some kind.

The cast has been firing on all cylinders this season, especially with the episode that just aired last week (“Crossroads”), where one of OC’s new team members went missing and was found to be killed, Stabler having the bury his body as he is undercover with the group that found Detective-in-Training Samir Bashir (guest star Abubakr Ali). This story is still playing out so as of now we don’t fully know who killed him but I’m sure we’re about to find out. Stabler’s younger brother, Joe Jr. may have some involvement as the investigation is about to come full circle. Meanwhile, the scene in question in this episode has Christopher Meloni and Danielle Mone Truitt deliver their most powerful scene together yet in the series and they have delivered quite a few, this one stands out though.

Excellent only begins to describe it, and Organized Crime this season. Organized Crime has yet to be renewed for the 2024-25 TV season.

Law & Order (reboot) – It’s improved, but we still have a ways to go.

There is a lot to be said of the mother ship series, both the original and this reboot. But this reboot has seen a lot in its short time on air, in this short season alone the cast has changed twice already. Jeffrey Donovan (Detective Frank Cosgrove) and the series parted ways weeks before production was set to start and veteran Sam Waterston (District Attorney Jack McCoy) chose to depart before mid-season. Sam Waterston is/will greatly be missed and he leaves behind a full legacy on the show, which he joined in 1994! Meanwhile newcomers Reid Scott (Detective Vincent Riley) and Tony Goldwyn (District Attorney Nicholas Baxter) have been welcomed by fans with open arms. The cast of the reboot no matter which season is very solid and they are all very talented, but their talents often seem crippled.

The reboot seems to have an issue fleshing out the characters. Det. Jalen Shaw (Mehcad Brooks) and ADA Sam Maroun (Odelya Halevi) – and add DA Nick Baxter (Goldwyn) to me, week-in and week-out are the unsung heroes as with them we can see depth, we can understand why they make the decisions they make or feel the way they do on certain topics. I’m still on the fence about Riley’s development but he’s definitely has a more solid partnership with Shaw than Cosgrove did, and he certainly is a better character. I think they’ve got a great detective duo here – reminiscent of that of Ed Green (Jesse L. Martin) and Cyrus Lupo (Jeremy Sisto) in season 18. From about the third episode this season on up, there has been an improvement in the writing, I must say in comparison from where the season started. Most of the episodes this season seem to have one singular writer who stands out, Pamela Wechsler, who also serves as executive producer. Girl power!

What can help the reboot:

The writers need to get away from talking points and political affiliation when it comes to the characters and even the weekly storylines - looking at you show runner Rick Eid - it makes the characters come off as caricatures and stereotypes. And maybe not directly rip the episodes from the headlines near verbatim. It takes away from it if we already know how it plays out – where is “the Law & Order twist?” They need to deep dive into Vincent Reilly, Nolan Price (Hugh Dancy) and Kate Dixon (Camryn Manheim); we have talented actors on here, give them something that makes us stand up and clap and relate to these characters and stop making them one-dimensional, especially ADA Price. I must say I’ve been enjoying the legal side a bit more with the addition of Goldwyn’s Baxter, his back-and-forth every week with Price has a feel of the original series run, where we see multiple points of views on cases and it doesn’t feel/sound like rhetoric. And speaking of that run, it wouldn’t hurt for them to find ways to invest those old characters in the reboot. Just because Sam has departed doesn’t mean we still don’t want to see old faces or even faces from the other L&O series show up. Elisabeth Rohm (ADA Serena Southerlyn) and Milena Govich (Det. Nina Cassady) have directed episodes! Raul Esparza and Hugh Dancy both starred in Hannibal, I could see former-ADA now Defense Attorney Rafael Barba sitting at the defense table and likely wiping the floor with Price! Tony Goldwyn even wants Mariska Hargitay to direct an episode. Let’s make the mother ship enjoyable to watch again!

It was renewed for a 24th season (4th for the reboot). The mother ship has a second chance at greatness and to continue its legacy on television, not a lot of shows get that. It would be wise that those in charge on mother ship remember that.

SVU – The 25th milestone season ranks as one of the worst.

I originally had a two-page long document on this season of SVU alone and I’ve had to shorten it down and it’s still not that short. But if I had to describe the 25th record-breaking season of SVU in 1 word, that word would be “bad.” There are calls on social media for show runner/executive producer David Graziano to be fired from the series. I’m not one to openly call for people to lose their jobs, but clearly there is something wrong and the downward spiral of the ratings mixed with bad press for SVU episodes this season is showing that. Nothing about season 25 jumps out as milestone season and there are only a handful of episodes as of now, that I would consider episodes worth going back to watch again: “Tunnel Blind”, “Duty to Report”, “Probability of Doom”, and “Children of Wolves” which was directed by Mariska Hargitay.

It’s the writing and direction of this season, period. There is no other reason or excuse that flies. There is clearly no investment from the management level behind the scenes at SVU in this milestone season being the best it could have been. The Maddie storyline overtook the season and its resolution didn’t exactly hit the mark either. Where is the retrospective? Why haven’t we gone over past cases? Seen former victims/survivors (other than 2 minutes worth of Maria from “911”)? Why did Olivia stop seeing Dr. Lindstrom (Bill Irwin)? Where is the ‘healing?’ The guest stars? We haven’t seen any former stars, other than Kelli Giddish (Detective Amanda Rollins), and that proves to me that it was a mistake to fire her in the first place. “Where is the energy? Where is the spatter? This is life-less dreck. A cheap knock-off…” (diehard SVU fans; if you know, you know). But seriously, nothing about this season overall screams “25 years!”

With the season opener, I was sure David Graziano and the writers turned the page on the mess that was most of the entire 24th season of SVU. Turns out I was wrong to think it. It seems to be doubled down. It’s proof that despite his behavior, he’s just not a good fit for SVU. He doesn’t seem to understand how to write for this show and be the voice of who women/people look up to and the voice that victims and survivors need. I honestly think he would serve better on a Criminal Intent reboot or something since he seems to like that aspect of the crimes more so than investigatory and the legal side – Peter Scanavino’s screen time has greatly decreased and well as legal scenes.

What can help SVU:

A lot of damage is done, but it’s not irreversible. The best call is to replace the person at the top if they aren’t going to change themselves, (sorry but not sorry David). The popular eras of SVU are seasons 3-7 and again 13-17 and for good reason; Neal Baer and Warren Leight remain the two people who have seen SVU at their peaks. Going into a record breaking season 26, someone who can understand the intricacies of SVU needs to take the helm and get this show turned around. Focus needs to be on steadying the storylines and fleshing them out in a meaningful way to where they connect and not have crucial bits just disappear into thin air. We need to get SVU’s focus back on uplifting the voices of victims and survivors and their journeys, as well as to delve deep again into the world of the NYPD SVU squad. It’s not just about “rape case of the week” the actual SVU deals with kidnappings, crimes against the children, the disabled/elderly, working in conjunction with the Hate Crimes unit/federal govt., trafficking and more, let’s get the variety back in the crimes – and let’s stop showing the crime taking place on screen and in graphic manner. The crime scene analysis, forensics, court scenes and legalese needs to be put back into this series, I’ve honestly felt it decrease even before S24 as far back as some S22.

We need to see Carisi navigate through these cases and the back-and-forth with the defense as well as in his own bureau. We’ve yet to see Carisi interact with the district attorney (Jack McCoy, Sam Waterston – now Nick Baxter, Tony Goldwyn) much like his preceding ADAs. Benson’s character needs to go back to therapy and deal with her issues head on (Lindstrom, Bill Irwin), she had done that up until EDMR in season 24 became her new way and it’s not working for her, since the writers seem to use it now as a crutch to say “she’s healing” but then turn around and have her do things to suggest otherwise. Benson also needs to be written as a leader and delegator more so than taking every case away from her “squad” and solving them personally. Actually from a story standpoint it would be great to see Benson face repercussions for continually doing this, in the real world that would have consequences as how can she personally investigate cases and run the unit?

And with the unit, their stories need to be dissected more. Velasco (Octavio Pisano) in particular, he had an edge in season 23 as the new guy that might be a snitch for the Chief of Detectives (McGrath, Terry Serpico) but in season 24 they pushed this character into a corner with liking Detective Grace Muncy (Molly Burnett, who departed last season) and the Chilly storyline last season and can’t seem to get him out of that corner. Velasco comes off as “just there” much in the way Fin (ICE T) is starting to. And where is Phoebe (Jennifer Esposito)? Detective Bruno and Captain (to-Detective or Chief?) Curry (Kevin Kane and Aime Donna Kelly) are pretty much holding down the squad and are actually the more I look to, to solve the cases and they are the only ones peaking my interest.

SVU is heading to record-breaking season 26, if they want to reach their goal of stopping at 30. Dick Wolf, NBC and those behind the scenes need to get serious about it if that is what they really want. Otherwise, you’re about to have long-time viewers and new viewers alike turning away. Despite what people believe about ever-lasting loyalty, it does have an end date.

What do you think? Do you agree or disagree? Feel free to respond!

[that-tumble-weed-blog]

The time super friends accidentally became a PolyCule?

Thanks to a mix of @lena-in-a-red-dress and https://archiveofourown.org/series/2166966 for this idea. When the worlds merged, there were a few exceptions. One of those is the National City Big Belly Burger of what was Earth 38. All of who, came to work on Monday and carried on as normal, mostly, the only thing was a small addendum to their file. “Do not mention the previous timeline, people have forgotten.” That would have been it, had they not seen the friends plus Barry enter. Now, after the events of everything that had come to pass Barry expected not to be remembered. He’d planned on it, He was going to pay. That was until they asked him how he was, and surprised him by calling him Barry, and then confirming that they knew him as Kara’s other cousin, not the other one with glasses. He looked baffled. Luckily, the Girl behind the counter, Ashley, was a long term member of staff and rang up the order for everyone without batting an eye. Ashley smiled and replied. “Ms. Luthor is still paying for the food. It’s an automatic thing, I’m afraid.” She smiled sadly at him as if she understood his plight. “It’s part of the system. She maybe an ex of the group, but she hasn’t stopped paying.” As Barry Allen sat down to let everyone know about the development Ashley offered the group a small smile. She had no intention of sharing her personal thought to the group, no matter who may be with whom, she did, however retrieve her poly pride badge and clip it to her uniform. Helping getting their large order ready she helped Daniel and Ricardo in carrying the order over. Of course the three cute nerdy guys, Barry, the one they called Brainy (Rule 4 don’t ask about the ‘nicknames’ - Rule 7 stop adding “ around Nicknames, we get it.) and Winn (Rule 5 Winn is not his father) spotted the flag with the Pi symbol in it. Winn was the first to speak. “That’s a cool pin!” He yammered. Ashley smiled softly and replied. “Thanks! I know we don’t post flags up outside but we do support a lot of different communities.” She saw Alex looking at her skeptically. “If you want,” she added, “you could have it?” Offering it to Win he smiled and put it on. Grinning at the others. Ashley smiled and returned to the till and started helping clean as she waited for the next customer Two minutes later Alex stood at the till. Ashley would admit that the woman scared her, but then all of that group scared her in some way. (Rule 2 ignore any odd traits the friend group has - Rule 3 Kara may be supergirl, no you may not ask). “Why did you give Winn a polyamourous pride flag?” She asked, exasperatedly. “i... Uh” Ashley swallowed before she realised that both Daniel and Ricardo were not near enough to help. “W-well, I... I kind of thought that well, you may not all be romantically interested in each other, but well... Kara and Brainy seemed to click a while ago, then Kara and James, James dated Lena for a brief time as well as James and Winn, not to mention James seemed to click with Kara’s cousin who is dating one of your-” She stopped at Alex’s grimace and hand. “I get it.” She drawled icily. “No, we aren’t a poly group, or, whatever you call it...” “Polycule” Ashley supplied Meekly. “Polycule.” She corrected. “We... I... This, no, I’m going to have a chat with my friends and we’re going to never bring this up... Please?” Rule 287 They are not a polycule. They are just accidentally connected. No. do not ask. It doesn’t matter who is sleeping with whom. Do not bring it up.

[manhuntingbonanza]

The thing about Manhunt 2 and ableism, is that when establishing The Project as an evil organization, that was generally handled well enough. As for everything and everyone else, Rockstar fucked up.

Unethical experimentation, mistreatments by staff, preying on vulnerable people are not new tropes, and can be used if handled carefully and to let the audience know that the Project is not to be sympathized with.

However, I can't help but to feel as though Leo's time with the Project kind of rubbed me the wrong way. According to the PRAVITAS files, he was diagnosed with antisocial personality disorder, which made The Project target him and conduct such cruel experiments on him, even by their standards.

Their reasoning? They wanted to see if this mistreatment would make someone with his diagnosis violent. Spoiler alert: it did.

And on top of that, he was an alter for Daniel? That's a recipe for absolute and absolute trashfire.

[chaotic-super]

Live With Me - Chapter 11

Read Live With Me on AO3 here!

Kara won’t say she’s uncomfortable, she’ll just say she’s not comfortable.

In some weird move that Kara hasn’t figured out the meaning of yet, Cat has decided to have an extra desk moved into Kara’s office. This has made the space even more cramped and there’s barely any space to move.

The desks have been placed so they are facing each other and the door is off to the side of them but the desks are pushed more to one side so Cat still has enough space to move her chair properly while Kara has to shimmy her way into her chair because of the lack of space, not even able to fully pull it out.

It’s kind of awkward. Cat has pretty much moved in here with her and it’s strange. Kara has worked closely with her for years but even when she was just a mere assistant, her desk was outside of the office, not inside, so they hardly ever worked in the same room apart from when Cat had her doing specific tasks with her so the sudden influx of time they are spending with each other is just odd.

“Did you manage to get any more information on—”

“Daniel Green? Yeah, here’s the file.” If there’s anything that can get her through this though, it’s her knowledge of Cat and her reporting process. She might not know the reasons Cat does anything but when it comes to reporting, she knows every article Cat has ever written and she knows very well, what her process for writing an article is so she’s been able to keep the flow going by pre-empting what Cat will want before she’s even got there and having it ready and waiting so they can get this article done and then maybe, just maybe, Cat will move back to her own office.

Well, that plan is not going to fly.

“Kara. Stop it.”

“Stop what?” Kara flinches when Cat slams down the file Kara just handed to her. “Stop giving me the things I need for the article. You need to be working on getting the information for your parts of the article, not doing my work for me. I understand that this isn’t the best situation, believe me, I’d rather be anywhere other than in your office, which is smaller than a shoebox but we need to work on this in private and we can’t do that in my office when the walls are made of glass. We certainly can’t do it out in the open when we’ve already had one staff member working with the enemy.”

Kara stares at her, her eyes wide and her mouth gaping open. She has no idea how to respond to that.

“We’re working together on this article. You’re not working for me in this situation, this is probably the only chance you’re going to have to call me your partner in this. Take the opportunity before I start calling you Kiera again.”

“Yes, Ms Grant. I’ll stop gathering your information for you.”

“I’m going to regret asking you to do that when I have to do it myself but it’s for the best. It’s time to put your big girl pants on Kara. This is real reporting.”

Kara clears her throat awkwardly. “I already got your next six files ready. Do you want them?”

If Cat is surprised, she doesn’t show it. “Yes, but that’s it, no more.”

“Right yes, of course.” Kara nods, then hesitates. “I have a half-finished one, do you want that?”

Cat slips her glasses off of her nose and drops her head into her hands. “This arrangement is going to be worse for me than it is for you. I can see that now. Give me everything you have that is for my portion of the article and then just focus on your own. If I need something from you, I’ll ask.”

“Got it.” Kara rifles through the papers on her desk and finds all of the ones that aren’t for the things she’s directly working on and then hands them over. Kara stares at the papers for the part of the article she was working on before she got distracted working on the part Cat is handling.

She fishes out the list of all of the people they know are involved and starts working through all of the ones that are involved under the command of a supervisor, mostly the people working under General Lane. She’s got some dirt to dig up and she knows it’s going to either be super hard because they’re being protected or it’s going to be easy because they’re nothing but scapegoats to the government, something she’ll be calling them out for in the article if that happens to be the truth.

There are a couple of names highlighted and she sees that they are the ones that were seen on the cameras in the storage locker, the ones that tried and failed to destroy said camera to destroy the evidence of government involvement.

She pulls out the folder Lena got from her private investigator, or rather, her ex-private investigator since he quit after finding out the government is involved in what’s going on.

With the information in front of her, she starts her research, burying her head into it because, between her and the people she’s researching, it’s personal. They had a hand in her losing everything so now, she’s going to make sure they get what they deserve and she’s going to do it by exposing every dirty little secret they have.

-

Lena strolls into CatCo, her fancy heels clicking against the floor in an expensive rhythm as she makes her way up to Kara’s office, excited to spend some time with her over lunch. She’s got a couple of sandwiches in her purse they made this morning with their shoulders brushing. They figure it is about time they stop buying so much food and start making more for themselves so they’re a bit healthier but Lena accidentally ended up with both sandwiches so she’s very kindly bringing Kara’s to her and is planning on spending a few minutes with her girlfriend while she’s doing it.

She passes Winn’s desk, waving at him as she goes but his voice calls out to her just after she’s taken a couple of steps away from the desk.

“Hey, Lena?”

Turning back to him, she steps closer. “Yeah?”

“I was just wondering how Kara’s been doing since the whole James thing? I haven’t really had much of a chance to speak to her and I didn’t want to reach out and crowd her.” Winn starts fiddling with a little figurine on his desk as he speaks, barely holding eye contact with her.

Lena feels a little bad. She’s been taking so much of Kara’s time up recently on top of everything else they have been dealing with so there’s been no time for Kara to stay in touch with her other friends and that’s not right. Lena won’t let that happen though, especially because this is Winn, Kara’s best friend before she came onto the scene. Winn probably had the toughest time of anyone with what James did, he was the one closest to him.  

“She’s been handling it the best she can but you know, things are still happening. I think it would be a good thing if you do reach out though, Winn, I think she’d really appreciate that.”

“You think so?”

Lena nods firmly, “I do. In fact, why don’t we have a game night at my place this Friday?”

Winn’s face lights up. “It has been far too long since we’ve had a game night, that would be awesome, and I’ll finally get to see the new place you guys have been hiding from me!”

Lena can’t help but smile at the overexcited way she can see him planning the night in his head. “Would you mind gathering the troops and letting them know? Maybe we can surprise Kara with it that way.”

Lena never knew a person could look so excited as in this moment. “I’ve got it all covered; don’t you worry. All you have to do is unlock the door and I’ll have everything sorted, food, drinks, entertainment, the works.”

“Sounds good. Now, I better run, I have Kara’s lunch and I think her stomach might start eating itself if I don’t go feed her.”

“You better run. I’ll see you Friday.”

“See you Friday.” Lena parrots and makes her way over to where she knows Kara’s office is. She’s kind of surprised Kara decided to keep the office that once got broken into but it’s also a perk that came with her finally getting promoted from an assistant to a reporter and it’s a big deal for her, even if it is just a tiny room with a door and no windows.

The door is closed when she gets there, which is odd, the door is hardly ever closed. It sets a feeling of dread and anxiety swirling in her stomach as she knocks on the door.

When she hears a voice that isn’t her girlfriend’s beckon her inside, her eyebrows furrow and her heart rate increases with the anxiety she’s suddenly feeling. Is this no longer Kara’s office? Is that why the door is closed? There’s only one way to find out.

With a hesitant movement, she twists the doorknob and opens the door. She has to bite back a laugh when she sees what’s inside.

Never in the history of their relationship has Lena ever seen Kara looking so miserable and that’s really saying something considering everything they have been through. Cat is sitting at the desk opposite her, looking prim and proper despite the crowded, messy environment.

“Hey, Lena.” Kara greets her, looking slightly less uncomfortable now that her girlfriend is here. “I wasn’t expecting you to drop by today.”

Lena finishes into her bag. “I accidentally ended up with both of our lunches. I figured that since I had some time I could bring it to you. I wasn’t expecting you to have gotten a roomie though.”

“Ms Luthor, I am here for privacy purposes so I suggest you keep your taunts to yourself unless you want L-Corp to have bad press for the rest of your time as acting CEO.” Cat doesn’t even look up from her laptop to look at her.

Lena’s mouth hangs open for a second before snapping shut. “Um, ok. Kara, do you have time for lunch or shall I leave you to it?”

Kara looks anxiously between her laptop screen and Ms Grant, unsure if she should accept the invitation or not.

“For God’s sake, please take her, her breathing is annoying me.” Cat answers for her. “You can use the balcony from my office but if you touch anything in there, I’ll know so don’t even try it.”

Lena and Kara share a look. Why would they be touching anything in her office?

“Thank you, Ms Grant. I’ll be back soon.” Kara shimmies her way out of her chair with a little bit of difficulty, her stomach pressing against the desk uncomfortably. “Do you want me to grab you anything while I’m gone?”

“Get Ms Tessmacher to order me lunch, some kind of salad, any kind, just make sure it has a cheeseburger on top.” Cat rolls her eyes as the desk shifts from Kara forcing her way free.

“You got it,” Kara says, ushering Lena out of the door and closing it behind them. As soon as she’s free of the room, she’s immediately letting out a puff of relief. “I’ve never been so glad to see your face. I need a break.”

Lena chuckles at her, hooking her arm around Kara’s and leaning into her side. “You have my commiserations. I don’t think I would be too happy sharing an office with the almighty Cat Grant, even less so when the office is as small as yours. I’m genuinely impressed that two desks even fit in there.”

“Honestly, me too. I wasn’t too happy when she barged in this morning and ordered me to get up so the desks could be arranged but it makes sense, we already had one person steal our information, so it’s safer for us both to be in my office where nobody can get our files and we can’t do it in hers because of the windows.”

“Surely there are other rooms available though.”

“There’s an empty office upstairs Winn, James and I used to use to hang out on company time back in the day but it’s been under construction for years, and by ‘under construction’, I mean it’s got one wall that has a couple of wires exposed that needs plastering.” Kara shakes her head. “It’s a waste of a good office if you ask me but it’s been on the maintenance list for a long time.”

Lena hums. “Does it have a window?”

“Several. Why?”

Lena shrugs, trying not to act suspicious, something she isn’t very good at.

“Lena Luthor, you tell me what you’re scheming at right now.” Kara unhooks her arm from Lena’s and folds them, holding her stare onto the side of Lena’s face until she caves.

Lena tries her best not to react but if she holds out much longer, she’s likely to be banned from cuddling with Kara tonight and she really doesn’t want to risk it. “Um, I was just thinking about offering to get it fixed so maybe you could have it as your office. Clearly, it isn’t that important of a room if it’s been sat empty for so long and it would give you and Cat much more space to work on the article.”

They finally make it out onto the balcony after a quick chat with Eve, Cat’s new assistant, who is sitting at Kara’s old desk. Lena pulls their lunches out of her bag. They sit down on the furniture out there and Kara digs into her sandwich, her cheeks now flushed from the offer. She isn’t sure if she’s grateful or embarrassed.

“I don’t think it would go down too well with my co-workers if my girlfriend is buying me office upgrades and such. That being said, I suppose it wouldn’t be as bad if I was to buy myself the upgrade by offering to fix it.”

Lena smiles, delighted that her idea is playing out, even just in a theoretical way at the minute. “Yeah, and then I send you the money to—”

“Lena, you’re not paying for this.”

“But—”

“Lena. I do have my own money, you know? Even more since I stopped paying rent, although I still want to pay some towards the house.” Kara looks unamused by Lena’s insistence to pay for everything. She loves her but damn if she doesn’t make it hard work just to open her own wallet from time to time.

She gets it, she really does. If she had money like Lena does, so much she can’t even comprehend it, she’d want to treat the people she loves too but she’s got to be very careful because accepting it is a fast-track way to her losing her financial independence and to end up taking advantage of Lena’s kindness. She has to keep her own responsibilities.

Lena takes a bite of her sandwich and chews, lost in thought in an instant. “Why do you want to pay for the house? It’s in both of our names anyway.”

“It’s our home. I want to work for it and I don’t like that you paid for the entire thing when it’s ours. I want it to truly be ours.”

“You don’t feel like it’s already ours?” Lena looks sad but confused, like she’s genuinely trying to understand but not quite grasping the truth. It’s understandable really, she’s grown up with money, and she hasn’t lived the same experiences as Kara has, not by a long shot.

Kara looks out over the balcony, trying to find a diplomatic way of explaining things that will help get her point across. “It feels like it’s a home for both of us but it doesn’t feel like it belongs to both of us.”

“You’ve lost me,” Lena admits.

“I’ve worked for pretty much everything I have, that’s how I class things as mine. I work for it, I save up, and I buy it. That’s how I’ve always lived. To have something as big as a house in my possession without paying for it, it throws me off and it feels like I’ve somehow cheated the system. I need to pay something towards it, a portion that makes me feel like I’ve worked for it.”

Lena nods slowly, a movement that shows she’s trying to understand, trying to come up with a solution that will benefit both of them. “I think I get it. It’s just hard for me to think about you working so hard for something you don’t have to. I get you want it to be equal but it’s not because the cost of half of that house is pocket change to me while it’s a lot for you. It would make much more sense to split it in terms of income. We can go off of my salary rather than company profits and family money. It will mean I still pay a good chunk more because I make more but it will be fair. Will that work?”

“Can we go over the numbers and then decide?” Kara gets what Lena is doing. She knows that she’s trying to make it so while Kara will pay, it will be as little an amount as possible.

“We can but I want it to be fair, Kara. I didn’t work for a lot of the things I have, I know that, but income-wise, we have to be fair to each other. I take on a greater burden financially because I can, I like to think you take on a lot of the burden with common sense.”

Kara rolls her eyes. “I think Alex would disagree with you there.”

Lena snorts. “Probably.” She finishes up her sandwich and rolls the foil into a ball. “So, you’ll think about it.”

“I will. I suppose it does make sense. I just don’t want you to ever think I’m with you for your money. You’re worth so much more than that.”

“I have never thought that and I never will, darling. You’ve more than proven that with the years of friendship. If you were after my money, you would have made a move on me years ago.”

Kara’s lips quirk up at that. “That’s true. I’ll give you that.”

Lena smiles back at her, pleased with herself that she managed to get Kara to crack a smile. “We can work it all out, don’t worry. But I do think it would be a great investment to see if you can negotiate for that office.”

Kara nods slightly. “Alright. I’ll speak to Cat about it when I head back. I can probably get away with another fifteen minutes if you have time.”

“Anything for you.” Lena gets up from her chair and moves to lean on the balcony railing, covering Kara’s hand with her own when she comes to stand next to her.

Kara leans into her a little and rests her head on her shoulder while looking out over the city. Lena’s head moves to rest against Kara’s and rather than thinking about the city and the beauty of it, she’s just thinking about how lucky she is to be here with Kara, especially after so many years of pining and wishing she could be more than friends with her.

“Are you busy at work?” Kara asks after a beautiful few moments, her head nuzzling further into Lena’s fur-collared coat.

Lena shakes her head against Kara’s. “No, not really. Sam has been covering a lot of the day-to-day operations since we officially took over Lord Industries so I can go through all of the patents and submit them for our own projects but I’ve got people to do that too so I’ve been working on our new security system. I’ve got the prototype finished and I’m going to finish it up later on and test it. After that I can fix any bugs or issues with it and with a little luck, we could have a basic version of it in the house by this time next week.”

“I never get tired of finding your brain sexy. You should talk about science and inventions more often.” Kara smiles, refusing to move her head from the warm nest she’s found.

“Hmm, you’ll find it even sexier when I eventually replace the basic version with fancier, newer models as I develop the technology then, won’t you?” Lena smirks, her arm snaking around Kara’s waist and holding her close, almost possessively.

Kara’s tone turns a little deeper, “I might just have to show you tonight just how sexy I find it.”

“I certainly wouldn’t mind the clarification, my love.”

“Mm, today is going to go even slower now.” Kara huffs a tad. “I think I want this second article to be done even quicker than the first just so I can stop sharing an office with Ms Grant.”

Lena chuckles, unable to hide her enjoyment at the fact that Kara has got to spend so much time with the city’s top media mogul. She definitely would not find it anywhere near as funny if she was the one having to room with her, that’s for sure. “Talk to her about the office. I know a guy that could get that fixed tomorrow if she approves and you can be in there soon enough.”

“I might take you up on that. Fingers crossed she says yes.”

“I hope so, if only so we have a better room to make out in during your lunch breaks when you don’t have someone in there with you.”

“Lena!” Kara laughs, her head finally shooting up from Lena’s shoulder so she can cover her rapidly reddening cheeks with her hands. “You can’t say that!”

Lena acts purposely confused but the wry smile on her face gives her away. “What do you mean? Don’t you want me to tell the truth?”

“Stop,” Kara giggles, bumping Lena’s hip with her own. “Someone might overhear.”

“Alright, alright. I better get you back to Cat before she comes searching for you.” Lena announces as soon as their laughter dies down.

Kara groans but agrees. “Give me a kiss before you go. I am not about to kiss in front of Ms Grant. That would be kind of like if I were to kiss in front of Eliza.”

Lena doesn’t need an explanation to kiss Kara and she leans in, pressing several chaste kisses against her lips. “I’ll walk you back to your office.”

-

A week later and Kara is still trapped in a room with Cat but this time, she’s a lot happier than she was a week previous because now, she can actually stand up from her chair without winding herself against the desk’s edge.

Cat was more open to the idea of the office swap than she thought she would be although she’s fairly certain that’s just because she offered to pay for it herself because it turns out the work in there was pricier than she imagined it would be and that’s probably the reason it has been sat empty for so long.

On top of the plasterwork, she ended up paying for a whole bunch of electrical work because none of the lights work and the window latch was broken too so she had to pay for that. That all meant she’s had to wait a little while for it all to be done but when Cat walked into the new office this morning with a faint smile and a nod, she knew it was worth it simply because it means she won’t have to deal with an overly cranky Cat telling her to chew more gum after lunch because she could apparently smell the lunch meat on her breath after she ate.

Now though, there’s a good distance between their desks and while Cat had taken the one right next to the window, there’s still plenty of light coming in so she doesn’t feel like she’s sitting in a coffin anymore.

Just to sweeten the pot though, Kara’s got a good mood that matches Cat’s because ever since Friday, when she got an incredible surprise about the revival of game night, she’s been in excellent spirits. It’s been way too long since she’s had the chance to catch up with Winn and Nia. They have, unfortunately, drifted apart since everything that happened because she’s been so focused on everything else that’s happened and because she wasn’t sure Winn would be receptive to her after she exposed his best friend as an asshole.

Her worries were unfounded though because the second she opened the door to Winn, he wrapped his arms around her in the tightest hug he could manage and told her how much he missed her. It was exactly what she needed to hear.

They spend several hours playing a multitude of games as a group of seven, Kara, Lena, Alex, Kelly, Winn, Nia and Brainy, Nia’s boyfriend. With so many people there, it made it a lot easier for them to take their minds off of the person that will never be at one of these nights again.

They left a few hours later with the plan to make sure they have a game night at least once a month, something they are all on board with and once Kara loved the feeling of hosting game night with Lena in their house because now it is their house.

Lena finally managed to get her to agree to work out how much she should pay towards the house based on her income. It’s not as much as she would have preferred to pay but she has at least put some money into it and that alone makes her feel much better about it, like they are actually on a much more even standing regarding decisions on the house itself.

Today is quite a big day. Not only has she now moved into the new office but Lena is home today setting up her new security system she’s made. Kara has no doubts that even this version, the version Lena describes as ‘basic’, is actually much better than anything money can buy and it’s only going to get better from here. Lena even let her name it, only rolling her eyes a little when she aptly named it Hope.

“Give me an update, how far along with the list are you?” Cat asks, peering over the top of her fancy, black-framed glasses.

“I only have three more people to look into and then I just have to start organizing the files to start writing. How about you?”

Cat’s answer is vague, disinterested in answering any questions on her work. “I’m almost done. I’ll be finished today and then we can start officially writing.”

Kara’s happy to hear that but something has been bugging her. They know that there are a lot of people in the government that want them gone but despite the fact that they probably know that they are looking into them from the mass amount of files they have requested on government officials, they haven’t heard so much as a peep from them.

Lena has been coming to CatCo as often as she can to have lunch with her and they have been using the balcony from Cat’s office much more than it’s been used in a long time. In fact, she worked a little late last week and in doing so, overheard the evening cleaners complaining about having to sweep out there since it’s now being used.

Lena is coming by today and since she’s coming from home, she’s bringing Kara dumplings and she’s super excited. It’s rare they often have time to make homecooked meals but they have been trying to do some more. They have been able to stick to their homemade lunches but the dinners are harder with how tired they are.

At first, they tried taking it in turns cooking but have found it much easier and much more stress-free when they do it together so there’s no rushing around and they can catch each other up on their days at work while they do so, the quality time something they have both come to enjoy.

Lena told her about the dumplings this morning as a surprise and it’s the second-best surprise she’s had recently, after the game night Lena managed to plan behind her back. She really needs to plan something special for that woman because Lena’s got her beat for the title of best girlfriend at the minute and she can’t let that slide, Lena deserves a whole lot of pampering too.

“Where are you drifting off to? You’ve got work to do.” Cat’s voice snaps her out of her thoughts, stopping her from planning an awesome day for Lena. She’ll have to reserve those thoughts for later.

“Sorry, I was just thinking about Lena.”

“Shocker.” Cat sneers. “Your girlfriend is not the top priority when you’ve got work to do, as sickeningly sweet your relationship is.”

Kara’s face scrunches a touch. “Is that a compliment or—“ Cat glares at her. “Getting back to work now, got it.”

Cat shakes her head, tutting as she does. “I don’t even know how the pair of you can spend so much time together without hating each other’s guts. I couldn’t stand to spend more than half of the week with any of my husbands.”

“I can’t help it, she’s just amazing.” Kara gets a big goofy grin across her face that just disgusts Cat even more. “She’s even making dumplings for me today for my lunch because she’s working from home. She’s just so…” Kara trails off when she catches Cat’s eye, the glare she’s on the receiving end of stopping her from continuing on. “Sorry.”

Cat buries her nose into the nearest file she has, going back to ignoring Kara’s presence and getting back to work, annoyed by her heart-eyes whenever she talks about her other half but also completely charmed. She has had a fair few relationships in her life but none have ever held as much love or as much passion as she can see in Kara and Lena’s relationship.

Still, she can’t help but be happy for them. With knowing Kara as long as she has, she’s seen her go through quite a few phases, most of them awkward and a little bit sad to watch with a decent sprinkling of second-hand embarrassment thrown in too.

A few years back, Kara helped her to get back in touch with her eldest son, who she had lost contact with and then proceeded to date for a couple of weeks. She had been truly happy to see it since she knows exactly the type of person Kara is. She more than approved of the relationship, but then Kara ended the relationship so she as any mother would do, got angry with Kara for breaking her son’s heart.

Looking back on it now, Kara never had the passion for Adam the way she does for Lena and her son was being quite the drama queen because it was a two-week relationship that ended because Kara wasn’t feeling it.

Kara has a lot of love in her heart and it’s obvious that her love is what keeps her motivated. Her love for her friends and her family, her love for Lena, and her love for her job and her colleagues, even if more than a few have asked her out and she’s had to awkwardly reject them. Cat knows all about the office gossip. She’ll never tell anyone but she secretly lives for it.

Lena knocks on the door timidly when she comes to join Kara for lunch. It’s her first time coming to the new office so she’s a little nervous about getting the right office but when she cracks the door and sees Kara and Cat sitting on opposite sides of the room, she knows she’s in the right place.

Cat watches Lena out of the corner of her eye as she takes in the room.

“This is an awesome office. I’m surprised you let it sit up here empty for such a long time, Cat.” Lena remarks.

“It is an excellent office, I’m aware. When I bought the building, it was once used as the headquarters for a tech firm that has since gone under and this was the CEO’s office. I needed my office where I could look over the bullpen, I can’t run a business if I’m hiding from everyone, can I?”

“Wait, this was a CEO’s office?” Kara asks, her eyebrows raised in shock.

Cat shrugs half-heartedly. “It was, it’s part of the reason I never got it fixed, I didn’t want this office going to someone undeserving but since I’m using it now, I’m deserving.”

Lena folds her arms, taking on the face of a woman with a fire burning behind her eyes. “I think you mean; Kara is deserving.”

“Yes, whatever. I know she’s not about to be flaunting it around the entire building, that’s good enough for me. Well, that and she saved me money on the repairs. I gather that was your idea?”

“What makes you think it was my idea?” Lena questions, her heckles still up from what she perceived to be a slight on Kara.

Cat sighs, annoyed that she can’t just get back to her work. She’d like this to be over just as much as Kara and Lena would so she can get back to her own office. “Kara wouldn’t be as ballsy as to come up with that request on her own. I’ve been trying to get her to believe in herself for years and ask for what she wants but still, it doesn’t always happen. You push her to stand up for herself and this is just an obvious example of you pushing her to get what she deserves.

“You think I deserve this office?” Kara breaks out into a toothy grin.

“Kara, you’re one of my most competent employees, you can have the office.” That’s the most Kara is getting out of Cat but she’s certainly going to take it. That’s the nicest thing she’s said in a while. “Now why don’t you go and have lunch so I can have some peace and quiet?”

Kara is more than happy to comply with that request and is up and out of her chair in a matter of milliseconds. “Let’s go.” She holds her hand out for Lena’s as she approaches her.

“Oh, before I forget, the balcony is off-limits today. The railing snapped last night when it was being cleaned. Apparently, the whole thing just fell off and landed on the ground in front of the building. It’s off-limits until a new one has been installed.”

Kara and Lena share a look.

“Was it the one right in front of the grey chairs?” Kara has to know.

Cat looks up, sceptical and almost accusatory. “Yes. Why?”

“That’s the one we always lean on and look over the city. It’s always been sturdy.”

“Are you inferring what I think you’re inferring?” Cat asks, leaning back in her chair.

Lena speaks up. “Well, you wouldn’t expect the government to make an assassination attempt too obvious would you?”

Cat plucks her glasses off her face and then proceeds to drop her forehead onto the desk in a very uncharacteristic move. One lacking any trace of grace or fragility. “Why can’t things just go smoothly for once?”

“If it makes you feel better, I brought plenty of food if you want some. Now feels like a good time for us all to be stress-eating.” Lena offers, getting the food out of her bag and setting it on the edge of Kara’s desk. “You might as well because without the balcony being available, this is the best place for us to have our lunch.”

For early access to new chapters of this fic and all of my other fics, check out my Patreon here!

[hournites]

Btw, you are my favorite fan fic author! I've read all of your works in AO3 at least twice!

First kiss prompt for hournite:

"you're blushing." "I know."

This is a very sweet message that has been making me smile all week! I love to hear that people are enjoying my stories. Thank you! And Happy New Year!

~.~

Rick dragged his books across his desk, unceremoniously dumping them into his bag at the end of his last class of the day. Beth took a more methodological approach beside him, sharpening her pencils before putting them into her pencil case so that they'd be ready when she'll need them tomorrow morning.

At the front of the classroom, Ms. Woods stood from her clock-cluttered table as more students filed out. She straightened her skirt and then directed a smile at both of them. "If you two aren't in a hurry, I was wondering if you could do me a favour."

For the most part, Rick had zero care to be doing any favours for any teacher at Blue Valley High, but as it would happen, Ms. Woods was about the only staff member at this school he looked up to, so Rick was already nodding.

Beth, also nodding, was constantly balancing a list of favours or errands for teachers between school periods. She was the type of student that teachers even trusted their wallets with. Already keen to help, Beth stood up. "What can we do for you, Ms. Woods?"

“As I’m sure you might know, my colleague, Mrs. Daniels, is expecting a little one by school year's end. We received a large shipment of new books for her reading curriculum, and they need to be placed in her storage room.” She turned to Rick. “The boxes are hefty and the shelves are rather high.” She turned to Beth. "And they could use some organization."

Rick shared a look with Beth. The corner of her mouth pulled upwards. Strength, height, and timely order. Definitely they were the right two for the job.

They were both walked to the pack of brown boxes lined up by one of the walls. The storage room was small, quiet and dusty. About a quarter the size of their math room with a tiny window showcases the courtyard's pavement. Ms. Woods returned with a large orange garbage bag, letting them know they could place worn books falling apart there for the librarians to suss out which were worth keeping.

Beth set out to work, pulling out cracked spines from the lower shelves as Rick came in back and forth carrying four to six boxes at a time.

"Thank you again," Ms. Woods said in that arrect tone of hers, buttoning up her rain coat. Outside, the light rain shower picked up as thunder rolled in. "I am sure Mrs. Daniels will appreciate this. Would you two be fine to stay here by yourselves?" Her question was aimed at Beth. "Rick is a fine boy, I trust him. You'll be in great hands."

Rick almost laughed overhearing the conversation from right out the door in the hallway. If she only knew that he spent almost every night alone with Beth at the Pit Stop.

"It's no problem, Ms. Woods!" Beth thumbed through a copy of The Great Gatsby. "I get along well with Rick. He drives me to school every morning."

That garnered a pause from their teacher. "Does he?"

"He's my best friend," Beth said. It was stupid, but something about hearing Beth say that so cheerfully put a smile on his face. Rick entered the room and set down another tall pile of boxes. "Halfway through." And a good thing, too. He wasn't sure there'd be much room for the two of them without playing elaborate live-action Tetris once all the boxes got in.

"Wonderful! Rick, would you mind driving Beth home? I'm afraid I didn't get the chance to look at the weather before asking you two to get started."

Rick leaned against the box pile with his elbow, his chin in hand. He followed Ms. Woods' gaze at Beth who was cleaning out the empty shelf, removing a dirty Kleenex with gingerliness. He started smiling at the way she raised to her tiptoes to reach the tops of the cubby, using the Kleenex to scrape off decades-old dust bunnies.

"Rick?"

His eyes snapped back to Ms. Woods, who was now tilting her head at him wryly. Rick reddened as she saw right through him. He ducked his head as the blush rushing to his face felt ten times hotter under her scrutiny. "Of course." He made a hasty exist, grabbing more boxes from the hallway so he'd have something to hide behind.

"Have a nice evening!" Beth waved as their teacher rounded the corner. Just when Rick thought that Ms. Woods had left, he found her still in the hallway in her long coat and ankle boots, looking at her watch. He slowed, knowing he couldn't ignore her as much as his embarrassment wanted him to. She stepped forward, a hand covering her mouth conspiratorially as she lowered her voice to a whisper. "You drive her to school every morning?"

"She's on the way!" Rick sputtered out. It was true, is the thing, but somehow he made it sound like a lie.

"Don't be too shy." Ms. Woods laughed lightly, grabbing her umbrella and leather briefcase full of ungraded tests. "She's a wonderful girl to have a crush on."

"Have a nice day, Ms. Woods," Rick said pointedly to get her to go.

"You too, Mr. Tyler," she chuckled, taking his cue to not poke fun at him any further and left down the hall. Rick rolled his eyes as he backed away with the book boxes. Beth might make it look good, but being friendly with teachers only had its upsides until it got absolutely embarrassing.

"How do you want to go about this?" Beth glided her hand over the shiny new book covers in the first box as he returned to the storage room with the last box. "Alphabetical by book title or author? By publishing date? We could also try by grade."

"Alphabetical by author," Rick said after a moment. "Whoever is teaching Shakespeare this year will thank us."

Beth stared right down at the packed yellow book sleeves for Much Ado About Nothing. "Good choice."

They got to work. Beth placed books in the lower shelf with as many she could hold at a time as Rick tore through taped boxes. It was silent, but it was busy silence, a type they were both comfortable with.

"I like Ms. Woods," she said suddenly, turning around to watch Rick shred up more cardboard with his hands.

"You like every teacher," Rick reminded her, cutting through plastic binding The Crucible. He almost shuddered just looking at the cover, pushing the box away. He had hated the book when they studied it in ninth grade. And when they were forced to watch the movie, not even Winona Ryder could make it bearable.

Beth scooped them up, putting Rick out of his misery, tucking them in order in the next shelf in front of Death of a Salesman. "True," she admitted. "But what I mean is that I like that she likes you."

"Oh."

She slotted the last book in then settled her hands on her hips, squatting down beside Rick in her geometrical tights to help him get through all the crinkling plastic for the recycling bin. "I like that she treats you the way other teachers treat their best students."

"You mean you?"

Beth stuck out her tongue. Rick grinned until it hurt. She'd never done that before, but now it was all he wanted to make her do. Stick her tongue out, make her tease him, roll her eyes at him, scoff one of her laughs as she pretended that he wasn't funny. Beth being playful for Rick, and Rick alone. That ache in his chest that inflamed every time she drew near grew in that moment and he had to squash it down, down down before it became unbearable.

"I think part of the reason why teachers ask students for favours is to show the community they respect those students not just with learning, but as a young adult going through life, and in that way, Ms. Woods needs to show you off."

"What? Show me off?"

"She's helping you with college applications, right?"

Rick nodded, meeting her eyes with his brows crinkled together, confused about Beth's thought process as he was most of the time, but genuinely curious to find out.

"Well, now she's going to tell Mrs. Daniels that you helped her reorganize her books, and then Mrs. Daniels is going to tell her work friends, and then the next thing you know, you'll be the talk of the teacher's lounge."

Rick made a funny face. "Pretty sure I already was when I was winning the streak for most detentions."

"But now it'll be for how thoughtful you are for staying after school to help do this. The teachers at Blue Valley are going to pay more attention to you. They'll see that you've changed."

"And this relates to college, how?"

"Because you need letters of recommendation for scholarships, Rick. From more than just one teacher."

Rick paused mid-shred the latest box in his hands, almost knocking down the tower of Lord of the Flies paperbacks beside him with his elbow. "What? Really? That's why you think we're here?"

Beth said, "It's just a hunch."

Rick stood, biting his cheek as he thought about it. He couldn't deny the thought felt nice. An elaborate scheme just to make more people like him. People don't like Rick. It's frustrating, but he's used to it. Thinking about a reality where that wasn't the case anymore in a general sense, not just his best friends sitting at lunch sense, was weird to think about. Weird, but nice.

He picked up the recycling bin overstuffed with cardboard and plastic. "I'm going to dump this out in the recycling room."

Beth nodded, continuing her latest task in filling out the F section.

When he returned, she was sitting on one of the tables cross-legged with a hardcover splayed open over her lap, shadowed by the dwindling light peeping through the tall window. Rick leaned against the doorway with his breath caught. He'd always thought she was beautiful. Whether it was her fashion confidence or the bright smile, or the warm shape of her poured into every crevice of her body, Rick wasn't sure. He'd never quite spent much time thinking about it at first. It crept over him slowly. But the way she sat now, beautiful and gentle in the quiet storage room drowning out the sound of pattering rain--it hit Rick like a storm. He crept up behind her, watching her finger slide along the sentence. "Reading break so soon?"

Beth jumped, clapping the book to her chest. She twisted around, glancing back at him with a smile. "This is one of my favourites." She tipped the cover forward. It was Fahrenheit 451. "Chuck--AI Chuck-- He read it to me in the library when I first joined the JSA. For the November English Lit assignment sophomore year with Mr. Leeds. It was the first time I..." She bit her lip, like she was worried what she might say would offend him. Rick waited, and she relaxed, choosing to be open. "The first time I didn't feel lonely at school."

His hand found her shoulder. What he really wanted was to hug her, but he held back. "Do you ever still feel that way?"

She covered his hand with hers, looking up at him again. "No. Not with you." They shared a smile. To Beth, it was probably just a fleeting second, a reassurance. To Rick, it meant the whole world. That ache returned full-force. Looking around, desperate for anything to distract him, he dropped his hand and took another Fahrenheit 451. He stared at the image of the paper man burning alive and flashed it at her with a smirk. "Hey look. I didn't know this book was about Jordan Mahkent."

Beth choked a gasp at his joke. A cross of horrified amusement and outraged disapproval flooded her features. "That's terrible!" With a small hop she was off the table, coming for him. "You didn't just say that!"

He chuckled. "You're laughing."

"No, I'm not!" Except that she was. He let her pry the book from his hands. She shot him more maddeningly cute glares as she grumbled...and somehow this had exactly the opposite effect he had originally planned. Spinning around, Rick craned his neck up at the taller shelves before he gave himself away.

"We should get on with these so we can get home."

Beth abandoned the Bradbury to drag over a peeling-white folded step-ladder, bundling a stack of Pride and Prejudice under her arm so she could use both hands to climb it.

Rick didn't want to say that he thought Beth was holding too many books, but he was definitely thinking it, watching from the corner of his eye at her struggle with the fact that even with the ladder the shelf was a tad too high. There was also the heights thing. Maybe she was acting like that wasn't a problem for her anymore. But her breathing was slightly off, and Rick knew from the time they went to the amusement park over the summer and skipped out on seven roller coasters that she definitely was still scared of heights.

"Are you okay?"

"I'm good!"

Rick finished the shelf next to her by reaching up with his arm. The ladder wobbled and he quickly steadied it with his hand. "Are you sure?"

Beth sucked in a breath. She shifted her weight, reordering the stack in her arms. "Yes, I'm fine! I can handle a few minutes on a ladder."

"If you're sure."

"I am sure. I'm totally fine up here, and besides--Whoops!" She yelped as six books tumbled over her arms, and then her ladder was teetering again, and a much more panicked shriek accompanied her fall.

Rick dropped his copies of A Raisin in the Sun when the ladder crashed and he lurched over to grab her. He lost his balance and they both toppled over another near ceiling-high stack of boxes that set off another two mountains of Shakespeare books that Beth had already organized on the table. Thunder crashed the loudest it had all day as everything went down like dominoes. Rick landed on cardboard not-so-softly-cushioning his twinging back.

Beth landed on Rick.

She lifted her head. Those big brown eyes blinked fast at him, stunned as he was. Rick attempted to move, but he was sandwiched. Until Beth rolled off him he wasn't going anywhere. He didn't exactly know how to tell her this. And, worse, Rick didn't exactly mind being pinned by Beth, either.

"I was maybe not as fine as I thought," came Beth's small voice.

"That's okay."

They stared at each other. Beth's face was so near him, too near him. He felt warm all over, too hot, too much. Not enough, too. With his hands on her waist, her breath tickling his ear. Maybe Rick will just die here.

"Thanks for, um, catching me."

"I think it might be the other way around."

As if the thought only just now occurred to her, she gasped. "I'm on you!"

"...Yeah."

"I'm sorry!" Beth pulled herself up to her knees, still sitting over Rick on the floor. She lent him a hand and pulled him to a sitting position. She didn't get up. Rick was very aware of the way Beth didn't get up.

"Rick?"

"Yeah?" he whispered, voice hoarse.

She looked at him again and to Rick's surprise, bit her lip and looked away with a look he couldn't decipher.

"What?" he asked.

"Never mind."

"No, tell me." When Beth didn't say anything, he poked her. "You just fell on me, I think I can handle it."

She nodded and splayed her hands out on his shirt, letting out a tiny breath. Rick looked down, then looked up.

"Do you ever..."

Whatever Beth was going to say, Rick would never know. Like an aftershock after an earthquake, The Catcher and the Rye came down on them, knocking them flat again.

"Oh my god," Rick groaned through a laugh, rubbing at his head where a corner hit him. Beth couldn't help but join him, her whole body shaking with giggles. He rolled to his side, not letting the same skin-to-skin madness happen twice in a row.

But Beth pulled on his shoulder, bringing him back to her. "Wait," she said. And then she was threading her arms around his neck, pulling him to her, kissing him in a pile of books. Rick's hand found the curve of her jaw, bringing her closer, sitting on hard spines and pokey hardcover corners as all his thoughts mushed together into a single one that screamed this, yes. Beth kissed him and then kissed him, like she needed to study it for a test.

When the books became too uncomfortable and their limbs started to go numb, Beth broke apart first.

"You're blushing.”

"I know,” he said, smiling.

She cupped his cheek with bright eyes, tracing the flush that travelled there. "I've always wanted to do that."

"Make me blush?"

"Kiss you."

He tried to respond, but no noise came out. Not when she was touching his face, not when she had kissed him. Not when Beth was saying she always wanted to. She casted a glance to the side at the catastrophic mess. Rick followed her gaze. Beth sighed, never taking her hand from his face.

She smiled, not worried at all. "We've fixed worse."

fin.

[thebreakfastgenie]

Ellsberg variant (which I’m sure you’ve told me about but do you think *I* remember?) but also 💜💜💜 (I meant to send this sooner but I saw it when I was still on the train last night at like. 11:57 PM)

No worries!!

So I explained the basics of Ellsberg Variant here but I'll go through some of it again and add some things! So basically, the idea is there is a break in at Josh's therapist's office, and copies of his records are stolen. This is a variation on what happened to Daniel Ellsberg; the future Watergate burglars broke into his psychiatrist's office looking for his file to retaliate because he leaked the Pentagon Papers. They did not find it, but these fictional guys are more successful. The burglars make copies, so nothing is missing, so the break-in isn't really reported and no one really knows about it until an advance copy of an upcoming tabloid with a hit piece on the White House staff, including the stolen records, is anonymously delivered to CJ's office. I don't have a snippet to share unfortunately but I can talk about it!

What I'm really excited about writing is the first day. The high stakes mystery of it all... CJ ends up consulting with Danny, but of course she can't tell him what it's about, and he's the one who finds the break-in buried in local news. CJ spends a couple hours figuring out what's going on before going to Leo, and at first he's made she waited but realizes she was right to wait until she had something concrete. Shortly after that they bring Josh in to tell him together. That goes... not great, but about as well as it can. Josh has to verify the stolen records are real, as well as provide CJ with the rest of his file, in case anything else was stolen and hasn't been published yet so she can be prepared (she doesn't force him to do this; he agrees it's necessary even though he hates it).

The burglars basically sold copies of high profile patient records to the highest bidder. The buyers (Republican) can't give them to a legitimate newspaper, but once they're published in the tabloid, the news media will report on the break-in and leak and they'll be out there. They discuss trying to go to court to stop the publication, but decide that will only draw more attention to the issue, and the records will be entered as evidence and maybe even be posted on the internet by whoever has them.

It's basically a combination emotional story and thriller/drama as they try to figure out what happened. Danny might get a moment where he refuses to write the kind of coverage other papers are writing. It's mostly gen, with the same level of pre-relationship Josh/Donna friendship I would write in a canon-compliant season 3/4 fic. Amy will probably show up, but Josh and Amy are not together (they're already broken up if I can make the timeline work). There will definitely be some CJ/Danny; I haven't decided how far it'll go, but it won't be the main focus, this is more of a plot fic. I tried writing the first scene a couple times but haven't had a draft I'm happy with. I do know the first scene is from Carol's POV and talks about how she later recounts her memory of the envelope containing the advance copy a bunch of times for CJ, Leo, White House counsel, etc., and she's always completely consistent. I really want to play with this idea more!

[lit-works]

Act One: "A world that hates and fears us..."

This was my first time visiting the Xavier Institute for gifted youth, located at 1407 Greymalkin Lane, in the Salem Center of Westchester County, New York. It was built on a massive familial estate that was mostly open to the elements. As I arrived I noticed state of the art security had been installed to prevent intrusion by unwanted visitors.

After I was buzzed through the gate I took my time getting a good look of the grounds. Down on the far shore was a boathouse, nearby which staff member Robert Drake was having fun with some students, taking in some of the summer sun while surfing a translucent surfboard.

A large part of the grounds were dedicated to a thriving garden. This garden hosted an exotic variety of beautiful flora, and was a serene location where Orroro Munroe had chosen to relax.

Another large portion of the grounds were dedicated to a hangar, a wide-open airfield space full of mechanical equipment and housed the workshop of Daniel Lone Eagle.

The actual Xavier Mansion on the grounds was an exemplary display of archaic European architecture and had many winding hallways between student dormitories and classrooms, which were well-equipped with state of the art robotic guards on the grounds and in the house itself. The main building was constantly filled with crowds of mutant students on their way to class or to relax. James Warren Worthington III gave a complex, yet poignantly humorous lecture on the free market in his business and economics course. Elizabeth Braddock maintained her daily fitness regiment, training with a fighting doll in her room shared with Worthington. Scott Summers and Jean Grey, the first students of the Institute's headmaster, were behind the locked door of their own shared chambers. Raven Darkholme and Remy Lebeaux enjoyed a game of pool with a small group of upperclassmen in a rec room inside the dormitories.

The Institute had it's very own medical lab, which doubled as a Scientific Genetic Research Center. This wing housed medical supplies and bizarre technology that seemingly allowed the ministering of care and gene therapy. The animalistic Dr. Hank McCoy spent most of his time here, and was presently performing various stress-tests on varying X-Genes.

Underneath the Mansion was a sub-basement level, which was restricted access to anyone but authorized X-Men, and Professor Charles Xavier. This sub-basement level was accessed by high-speed elevator tubes. Facial and vocal recognition biometric scanners observed all occupants of the sub-basement level at all times to prevent security breaches. Once there beneath the earth and hearth, the sub-basement became a complex web of hallways between other subterranean structures, sporting adamantium melded doors and melded steel walls. The complex was honey-combed with tunnels and underground passageways, and this labyrinth was once occupied by a hostile settlement of mutants called The Morlock during the 80s. That area was considered the weakest area of defense in the entire sub-basement. However, in time of an emergency those tunnels would make an excellent escape.

The halls led me to The Danger Room. The Danger Room was where the field operatives of the X-Men physically trained for missions. The Danger Room was equipped with impossibly fast processors and other computer hardware that were programmed to analyze and respond to the X-Men's choices by using extrapolated data files from previous simulations, and modeling software, simulated gravity fields, and 3D holographic projections to create realistic virtual environments and situations for the X-Men to hone their skills in. Set apart from the actual danger room, where the facilitator of the training regiment would modify or adjust the obstacles and control the overall intensity of the exercise. Currently engaged in a rigorous and grueling training session without a facilitator were a metal man, a clawed berserker, and a heavily armed man with the letter M branded on his face.

Across the underground labyrinth was the room containing Cerebro. Cerebro was an advanced and complex E.S.P. (extra-sensory perception) device. It derived its name from the Latin word "Cerebrum", for the brain. It functioned to amplify telepathic ability, and strengthen brainwaves. It also accelerated the user's synaptic activity by stimulating neurons in the user's brain. The main purpose of Cerebro was to enable Xavier to locate the mutant genetic signature across the globe, but was also integrated into the Institute's AI. Cerebro was housed in the most secure section of the mansion as it contained extensive files on the world's mutant population and their current whereabouts and activities. The machine's restricted access settings could only be overruled by a secret passcode known only to Professor Xavier and his first student, who assisted in calibrating the machine, Jean Grey.

Professor Charles Xavier slowly removed Cerebro's headset interface, and placed it down onto a console. As he commanded his specially designed wheelchair to transport him out of the housing chamber for Cerebro, he began issuing a mental summons to the present X-Men for a meeting in the War Room.

The War Room served as an informational hub and base of operations for the X-Men. The room had wall-inserted monitors constantly displaying real-time news feeds from across the Earth. Each screen represented by a red dot on a holographically projected world globe, which came from the center of the floor, allowing for the viewer to see which disturbances were going on in the world and where. The War Room also held combat equipment and state of the art computers.

Slowly, The X-Men gathered before their leader and mentor. The active X-Men roster had expanded exponentially in the previous decade going into the 90s, to such a size they were split into two teams to be made more manageable. Blue & Gold. The blue team, led by Scott Summers, arrived. 'Cyclops', being Scott Summer's codename, was joined by Dr. Hank McCoy (Beast), Elizabeth Braddock (Psylocke), Raven Darkholme (Rogue), Remy Lebeaux (Gambit), and a man from the Danger Room (Wolverine).

Professor Xavier utilized the monitors to display applicable news footage, and spoke: "An unofficial incarnation of The Brotherhood of Evil Mutants are attacking Yankees Stadium in New York City. The group's most recent leader, Quicksilver, is finding himself on the opposing side of the law once again, and he's leading the unruly duo of Blob and Toad. Avalanche and Pyro are collaborating as well."

"what is Pietro angry about this time?" Asked Wolverine.

"Apparently their terror attack is a message that mutants aren't afraid of humans, but humans should fear mutants, and bow down to their superiors." Xavier explained.

"What better way to spread a message than to interrupt the national Pastime's world-series?" Cyclops asked rhetorically.

"Yes, it seems the young Maximov apple didn't fall too far from the tree in regards to flairs for the dramatic." Xavier replied, and then addressed all the X-Men present. "Prepare yourselves, and remember, you are representing the good in Mutantkind. The sneering public eye is upon you and it is wisest to resolve this with as little conflict as possible. We want to show humanity that not all of us echo the sentiments of this criminal element."

And with that I boarded the private jet of the X-Men, The Blackbird, alongside the primary iteration of that very team.

-

As the X-Men Blue team and I arrived, we found the stadium in ruins and a panicked crowd desperately fleeing the scene. The Blackbird was landed on the roof next to a gaping hole, which allowed the team easy entry as I stayed behind to safely observe and take record. The Brotherhood of Evil Mutants must have expected the X-Men to show up, in fact, they seemed happy for it, because they got the opportunity to give their old nemeses a thrashing.

Cyclops first attempted to reason with the hostile mutants, but it was not long before it came to blows. However, the expertise and militant organization of The X-Men proved greater than the Brotherhood's unadulterated rage. The Jumbotron ended up being forcibly brought down upon the grotesquely obese criminal called the Blob, and Avalanche had caused even further damage to the structural integrity of the monumental stadium. Most of the Brotherhood was incapacitated, but their leader, aptly named Quicksilver, fled the scene once he had lost his allies.

-

As the X-Men and I were returning to the institute, we inevitably learned of the recent destruction of Avengers' Mansion. During a recent battle between the Avengers and their long-time foe Ultron, Avengers' Mansion was destroyed and both Ultron and the Avengers had completely disappeared. The superhuman community at large had gathered at the ruined mansion to search through the rubble for survivors. Captain America, Iron Man, Thor, Black Widow, Hawkeye, and Vision were among the missing.

When we arrived I found such superheroes as Spider-Man, Wasp, the current Ant-Man, and Hercules all present and helping remove debris. We spent hours searching, but at the end of the day...everyone returned home with no clue as to what had really happened.

-

The day after the destruction of Avengers' Mansion, Scott Summers had spent the majority of the day in the War Room with Professor Xavier.

As dusk neared I eavesdropped on a private conversation between Scott and the man codenamed Wolverine. Scott spoke of a group of violent human religious extremists known as 'The Purifiers' who had been kidnapping mutant teenagers, and who had most recently taken a student of the institute. The Purifiers had kidnapped Rahne Sinclaire, a 15-year-old girl. Wolverine agreed that it was their obligation to save the captured children, "Well, if those nut-jobs are dumb enough to come after us, I'll snikt 'em down. Hard."

"I'm not gonna wait until there are more dead mutant kids on our doorstep. You're going after the purifiers before they get the chance to do whatever it is they have planned. When you reach them, you're going to eliminate this threat permanently. But you're not going in alone, I want you to put a black ops team together. A new X-Force." Cyclops stated.

"Damn, Summers, don't know if I should be impressed or worried you've snapped. What's Jean say about all this?" Wolverine asked.

"Jean...doesn't need to know."

"OK, I'm impressed."

"No one can know."

-

X-Force consisting of Wolverine, Warpath, Psylocke, and Angel traveled by blackbird to an abandoned church surrounded by trees in the countryside of upstate New York. The church was ancient, full of rotted wood and cluttered with empty pews. From outside the sound of hymns being sung could be heard. William Stryker's preaching against the "sin and degradation of the demonic mutant race" drowned out the screams and cries of a tortured young girl.

Stryker had probably expected someone to learn of his genocidal activities at the church, and so he had posted snipers to ward off unwanted visitors, and they were well-hidden in the trees. They stood no chance against X-Force.

Once X-Force entered the church, William Stryker commanded his six total Purifier cultists and soldiers to attack and defend, while he continues to grandstand. Once all of his pathetic minions has been mercilessly executed, Stryker joined the fight and went until his own bitter end. Rahne Sinclaire was rescued and escorted back to the institute.

-

The morning after X-Force returned to the institute, I found a group of students gathered around a television.

On the TV was a reporter, and behind him was a mass of people crowded together and looking at a stage in front of them. The reporter began to speak, "If you're just now joining us, The Avengers have returned from their recent disappearance and have called a press conference." The crowd behind him began to talk louder. "Here they are now. Let's listen."

The camera zoomed in on the stage as Captain America, Iron Man, Thor, Black Widow, Hawkeye, and Vision all approached the pulpit. They waved at the crowd and Captain America took the microphone. "My fellow Americans, metahumans and mutants, it is truly a great day to be alive and an American."

The crowd cheered and applauded, but Captain America beckoned for them to quiet and continued his speech.

"During our absence, we were transported to an alternate reality. A reality much like our own, but in the distant future and what we saw there we found disturbing." He paused and looked out into the crowd before he continued. "What we found there was tyranny and oppression, brought on by an anarchist government. The free peoples of the United States of America were denied their basic human rights and forced to live more like slaves than citizens. The cause of this anarchic governing force was abject failure. Failure to serve and protect. The ones who had failed were us, the most powerful of all. We finally managed to escape that nightmarish reality thanks to the Asgardian magics of Thor and Iron Man's inventive genius to find ourselves back in the nation we love and hold dearest to our hearts." The crowd applauded again, but weaker this time. "My fellow Americans, we The Avengers, stand before you and promise you security and protection from the dystopic future and oppressive regime we met in that alternate reality. I just had a meeting with the President of the United States and Congress, Tony Stark, Secretary of National Security, and representing S.H.I.E.L.D. as current Director-in-chief. As of NOW, The Avengers are Head of State of America."

The crowd erupted into chaos. Captain America again held up his hand and silenced the crowd.

"We solemnly swear to protect and serve. With Thor's might, Stark's Intellect, and my patriotism we will govern this great nation to prosperity, safety, and peace that it has never before seen. To ensure the survival of our great nation, I ask something very pinnacle of the metahuman population across the nation: I ask that you reveal your identity and register yourself as agents of the government. You and your loved ones will be kept safe and supported from dissenting public or enemies who may wish to harm you. Believe me, I understand the importance of keeping the ones you care about safe. Please, I beg that you see the benefits of governmental registration and regulation that I am suggesting to you, and that you do so. If you do not, you will be deemed as an enemy of the state, face prosecution and be imprisoned. Our new, Ideal society cannot stand for dangerous acts of vigilantism outside of the law. That is All I have to say."

-

Retrospectively, I see that the ensuing coup had been in the works for a long time and every contingency had been calculated that the X-Men, mutants, and specific superhumans wouldn't register easily. As such, a nearby military base had been emptied to encourage the mutants of Xavier's institute to register or be taken in by force. Knowing the fallibility of humans, massive Sentinel series robots had been sent in to oversee the transaction. While the soldiers were armed and ready to fight, they first presented the X-Men the option to peacefully surrender and register. The leader of the soldiers had strict orders from the White House to arrest and detain any noncompliant staff or student of the institute. He was also bigoted and hard-headed, which made it very difficult for Scott Summers to reason with him. With the presence of the Sentinels heightening the anxieties of all the mutants, an outspoken young woman named Jubilation Lee used her powers and provoked the soldiers into an assault.

The minute the fighting broke out panicked souls fled in all directions, Wolverine leapt to Jubilee's defense by flanking a Sentinel, Robert Drake (Iceman) began erecting a massive ice barrier, and an elite team of stealth soldiers with telepathy-dampening alloy helmets infiltrated the Xavier Mansion. The stealth team burst forcibly into Professor Xavier's offices and into the sub-basement only to find Hank McCoy laboring to render Cerebro inoperable and that Xavier was gone.

[diarynow]

Federal Court Orders Former Head of International Binary Options Scheme to Pay More than $561,000 in Restitution

The Commodity Futures Trading Commission today announced the U.S. District Court for the Northern District of Ohio entered a consent order on April 27 for a permanent injunction, restitution, and equitable relief against Jared J. Davis, a former resident of Ohio. Davis, at times, conducted business as Erie Marketing, LLC.

The consent order resolves a CFTC action filed on September 17, 2019. [See CFTC Press Release No. 8018-19]. The complaint alleged, among other things, that Davis defrauded customers through a global binary options business he created and operated.

The order requires Davis to pay $561,971 in restitution to victims of the fraudulent scheme. The order also permanently prohibits Davis from engaging in further violations of the Commodity Exchange Act and CFTC regulations, as charged, and imposes permanent registration and trading bans.

Case Background

The order finds that, from approximately July 2012 through June 2016, Davis fraudulently solicited and accepted approximately $10 million from customers in the U. S. and elsewhere to trade off-exchange binary options on commodities, forex, individual stocks and stock indices. According to the order, Davis executed his scheme through internet marketing campaigns, various websites, and call centers using tradenames such as Option Mint, Option King, and Option Queen. The order also finds Davis defrauded customers by making misrepresentations and omissions of material facts, including failing to disclose that he effectively took the opposing position on each trade and failing to disclose that he frequently had the trading platforms manipulate the options trading software settings to increase the odds of customer losses.

The CFTC cautions that orders requiring repayment of funds to victims may not result in the recovery of any money lost because the wrongdoers may not have sufficient funds or assets. The CFTC will continue to fight vigorously for the protection of customers and to ensure the wrongdoers are held accountable.

Related Criminal Matter and SEC Actions

In a separate action, the U.S. Attorney’s Office for the Northern District of Ohio charged Davis with three counts of tax evasion, and his company, Erie Marketing, LLC, with 11 counts of wire fraud. The superseding information was based on much of the same conduct alleged in the CFTC’s complaint. United States v. Davis, No. 3:18-cr-225-JZ (N.D. Ohio). Davis pleaded guilty to 11 counts of wire fraud on behalf of Erie Marketing, LLC and to three counts of tax evasion individually. On January 27, he was sentenced to 30 months of incarceration followed by three years of supervised release. He was also ordered to pay a $300,000 fine, $1,039,208 in restitution to the Internal Revenue Service (IRS), and to be jointly and severally liable for the debts of Erie Marketing, LLC, including $656,493.20 in restitution to victims and a $4.4 million fine.

In addition to the criminal action, the U.S. Securities and Exchange Commission (SEC) charged Davis in a related enforcement action and entered into a partial settlement against him on February 22, 2019, providing that the court will determine disgorgement and civil penalties at a later date. The SEC’s action remains pending. SEC v. Davis, No. 3:18-cv-2829-JZ (N.D. Ohio).

The CFTC appreciates the assistance of the U.S. Attorney’s Office for the Northern District of Ohio, the Federal Bureau of Investigation’s Cleveland Field Office, the IRS Criminal Investigation, and the SEC.

The Division of Enforcement staff members responsible for this case are Christine Ryall, Danielle Karst, Jason Gizzarelli, Kyong G. Koh, Paul G. Hayeck, as well as former staff member Peter Haas.

Teresa Maston

[enjoyable-writings]

I don’t normally add to stuff but this was just too good:

Danny had been working in the watch tower for two months. Being in the living realm again had taken a little adjustment, but all in all, things were going smoothly. He mostly kept to himself, not talking much, enjoying the well deserved rest from royal duties. He had been noticeably exhausted the last century or so, and Clockwork had chided him (‘how do you expect to make good decisions when you’ve had no rest? That’s it, you’re going on holiday’), and that’s how he’d ended up here. It was relaxing getting to be ‘human’ again, and the menial tasks of his job kept his mind occupied.

Clark had broken his communicator again, because apparently even high-tech devices for superheroes didn’t appreciate being submerged underwater. He had been informed that the new mechanic was working on floor seven today, and he always liked to greet new staff so this was a good opportunity to. He found the young man working at a desk, tinkering with something small.

“Hello, nice to meet you,” he said, offering his hand out for a handshake. Danny grinned and shook, with a surprisingly firm grip.

“Hi! I’m Danny, got something you need fixing?” He asked, looking at the communicator in Clark’s left hand. His upbeat cheeriness isn’t what caught Clark off guard, or his slightly pointed teeth, or his tiny frame (maybe 5’4? 5’5?), no, it was the fluent, perfect kryptonian he had spoken. As he stood there, mouth agape, Danny continued. “I should have it done in a couple hours or so, I don’t really have anything else important to do.”

As he left, Clark’s mind was reeling. After gathering his thoughts, he sat down to check staff records.

Name: Daniel Fenton

Age: 24

History: grew up in a small town, Amity Park, in Minnesota. Parents, Maddie and Jack Fenton were scientists. Disappeared four years ago. Only known living relative is older sister Jasmine Fenton, psychologist at Arkham asylum.

The file didn’t tell Clark very much at all, and didn’t give any indication that it was known upon hiring him that he was Kryptonian. With a heavy sigh, he dialled a number into his phone.

“Hello, everything ok?” Bruce’s voice came over the speaker. There was a hint of concern, because Clark wasn’t really the type to call often unless there was a problem.

“Yeah, not too bad, it’s just the new mechanic, Daniel Fenton. I think he’s from Krypton.” There was silence the other end of the line, before Bruce spoke again.

“What reason do you have to think this?”

“He speaks fluent kryptonian. I’ve considered if there’s any other way he could’ve learnt it, but unless he knows Kara, I can’t come up with anything. Even then, his accent was flawless. He’s not earth-born.”

Bruce hummed. “Ok. Leave it with me.”

That’s how Danny found himself in a dark interview room with Batman.

dp x dc crossover

    danny has lived in the ghost zone for the past century or so as the ghost king. and danny when he was coronated gained all the knowledge he should have gained as a newly formed ghost, pulse knowledge of all his subjects, including all their languages.

now i propose to you that when danny is speaking to someone he automatically can tell what their native language is and speaks to them in that language. and with him doing that so long he doesn’t even realize it.

now i raise you danny decides to live in the living world for a while, her has multiple doctorate degrees and ended up working in the watch tower as a mechanic. keep in mind he is not actively hiding his identity.

i just really want to see these interactions. like i want clark to go over to danny to ask him to fix something and for danny to reply to him in perfect kryptonian, and clark will look at this 5′5 twink and be like yesss this boy must be kryptonian, so now its clarks mission to prove danny is a kryptionon trying to drag bruce in on it. bruce only starts to help when while ‘observing’ (stalking) danny they see him lift a car.

i want j’ohn to need something from a locked closet and danny says he will unlock it for him, in martian. then fazes his hand through the door and unlock it from the inside.

i want chaos and misunderstanding. i want sups and j’ohn to argue about what danny is, i want constantine in the background laughing his ass off at them.

[dorothea-jpg]

Case File #3 - 2448-6OT

(Picrew used - Black Centred Picrew <3)

𝙻𝚘𝚊𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝙵𝚒𝚕𝚎 2448-60T,

𝙿𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚎 𝚆𝚊𝚒𝚝

.

..

…

𝙻𝚘𝚊𝚍 𝙲𝚘𝚖𝚙𝚕𝚎𝚝𝚎

𝚃𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚔 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝙵𝚘𝚛 𝚆𝚊𝚒𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐

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

[𝙾𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚟𝚒𝚎𝚠]

Finley Iglesias

15, Male

𝚂𝚙𝚎𝚌𝚒𝚎𝚜 - Human

𝙳𝚊𝚝𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝙱𝚒𝚛𝚝𝚑 - 09/12/3003

𝙳𝚊𝚝𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝙳𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚑 - N/A

𝚂𝚝𝚊𝚝𝚞𝚜 - Alive

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

[𝙿𝚑𝚢𝚜𝚒𝚌𝚊𝚕 𝙸𝚍𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚏𝚒𝚎𝚛𝚜]

𝙴𝚢𝚎𝚜 - Brown

𝙷𝚊𝚒𝚛 - Brown and short

𝚂𝚔𝚒𝚗 - Ivory

𝙷𝚎𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 - 170.18 cm (5ft 7inches)

𝚆𝚎𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 - 66.1 kg

𝙱𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚍 𝚃𝚢𝚙𝚎 - AB negative

𝚂𝚌𝚊𝚛𝚜? [𝚢] [𝚗]

𝚃𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚘𝚘𝚜? [𝚢] [𝚗]

𝙾𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝙽𝚘𝚝𝚊𝚋𝚕𝚎 𝙰𝚜𝚙𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚜?

Finley's eyesight has grown weaker and weaker over the years and I am becoming increasingly concerned that Finley will eventually lose his eyesight altogether. Though for now, I have given him very thick-lensed glasses but unfortunately he won't be able to rely on them for long as I predict he will need stronger ones in the spend of two years. To prepare him for his immanent blindness, I am currently training his other sense such as hearing, touch and smell.

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

[𝙿𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚘𝚗𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚢 𝚂𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚢]

⇀ Finley can be what the other subjects describe as 'annoying'. He's a joker and he pulls pranks on the others quite often which clearly frustrates them in return. Finley doesn't seem to be affected by this however and continues on with his jokes.

⇀ Finley is a very intelligent boy, at only fifteen years of age, he has already surpassed university-level requirements. This is the one thing he doesn't brag about though that's a thing he loves to do the most, brag.

⇀ He has shown himself to be very extroverted and enjoys being around his peers. He is constantly talking up a storm with the staff and spends most of his time and energy with twins. 

𝙻𝚒𝚔𝚎𝚜 -

The subject of space, Mathematics, Pranks, Spending time with people and eating sugary foods.

𝙳𝚒𝚜𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎𝚜 -

Scary movies, Salty foods, Glitter, Needles/Injections and medical examinations

𝚂𝚎𝚡𝚞𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚢 -

Heterosexual

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

[𝙿𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚘𝚗𝚊𝚕 𝙻𝚒𝚏𝚎]

𝙼𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 - Jazmin Iglesias

𝚂𝚝𝚊𝚝𝚞𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝙼𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 - Alive

𝙵𝚊𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 - Raul Iglesias

𝚂𝚝𝚊𝚝𝚞𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝙵𝚊𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 - Alive

𝚂𝚒𝚋𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 - Sofia & Daniel Iglesias (Younger)

𝚂𝚝𝚊𝚝𝚞𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚂𝚒𝚋𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 - Alive

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

𝚃𝚑𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚝 𝙻𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚕:

𝙽𝚘𝚗𝚎

𝙻𝚘𝚠

𝙼𝚘𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚊𝚝𝚎

𝙷𝚒𝚐𝚑

𝙴𝚡𝚝𝚛𝚎𝚖𝚎

𝙿𝚛𝚒𝚘𝚛𝚒𝚝𝚢

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

𝙽𝚘𝚝𝚎𝚜

Finley has the ability to manipulate reality and create illusions at an advanced level. Of course, none of his abilities would be real but he has the power to have someone touch, feel and smell as well as see whatever illusion he has conjured up. He can't do any physical damage with it as I've tested but the mental torment which comes with his limitless opportunities to conjure up whatever he sees fit has had quite a lasting effect on my former staff members.

Details Here - Illusion Manipulation + Reality Warping