#and if we wanna put it on here for organization/archiving purposes we can just. do a transcript

[mossymultiverse]

Zuko, upon no one else freaking out over Moss spontaneously combusting, slowly relaxes, and resigns itself to simply being very confused.

Moss wrinkles their nose in thought. "i don't think so? the current felt like it was going the other way, even though it was slower. also, i think i tasted salt. i think this river connects directly to the ocean."

Setting Tee down, Moss offers Marsh to climb back on their shoulders, but it seems he's still miffed about being dragged into the river with Moss, as he simply walks towards the treeline instead. Moss rolls their eyes and follows, also poking around a bit before finding a small space to squeeze through.

"they should really- uff- make this route- hrrg- more accessible," Moss grumbles, forcing their way through the branches. "not everyone has a 'mon that knows surf."

Marsh and Tee make it through the trees rather easily, being so small. Zuko only needs to wiggle a little to get past.

route 218 continued



She takes her sweet-ass time rolling onto her feet, brushing the grass out of her hair and off her sweater, stretching and fixing her dress as Moss lights themself on fire for a moment. Totally normal things everyone does its nbd.

"Falling into this very specific river, then- wait, is it the same river?" She thinks about it for a moment, following the path it takes with her eyes before giving up. They probably connect at some point if nothing else.

"Absolutely. I think that knowledge is the only thing keeping me from having quit by now," she admit, looking for a good break in the wall of trees to shimmy through. She doesn't mind getting a few sticks in her hair, but she doesn't want it to be too difficult.

@old-chateau-dweller

[reduciodepresso]

“Their Own Story” Lexi + Fezco (Euphoria)

Warning: smut

Chapter 4, Read the rest here:

Lexi ended up not speaking to Cassie for the whole week, the one and only exception to this occurring when she had gotten back from Fez’s Sunday evening.

“Why shouldn’t I tell mom?”

Lexi had turned to look at the girl as Cassie glared at her from her bed, lurking in the half-lit room, as she had neglected to turn the lights on.

“Cause then I’ll tell mom you’ve been sneaking out of the window every other day.”

And that was it, from that point on it was like Lexi didn’t exist to her, which was a weird feeling, as even though Lexi missed talking to her sister, it was a bit of a relief to have a reason not to talk. Cassie had been off recently, and when it wasn’t worrying Lexi, it was pissing her off, making it hard to hold a conversation with her.

So yea, she’ll admit her silence was a little refreshing.

On Friday, Rue had asked her to come to some party, and when she had texted Fez about it he offered to pick her up.

He had some ‘business to attend to,’ as he so eloquently put it, and so when she got into the car with him that night she couldn’t help but glance at the back seat to see the black duffel bag.

“Hey,” she laughs lightly, “remember the last time we were at a party?”

“Do you?”

“It was a little blurry.”

He chuckles lightly, reaching across to squeeze her thigh.

“Okay, so I have a theory,” Lexi says after a few minutes light conversation, that no one would suspect a thing, like, about us.”

“You think so?”

She nods, “I mean, we’re like the last two people one would expect to see.”

“How long do you think it’ll take?”

Lexi shrugs, “wanna make a game out of it?”

He takes his time to slowly turn to look at her, stopped at a red light with their destination just around the corner, “what are the premises?”

Lexi thinks about it as Fez drives, pulling up to the house and putting the car in park. “Whoever gives it away looses?” Lexi finally goes with.

Fez leans in as he kills the engine, “and what’s the looser gotta do?”

She smiles, shrugging indifferently, “I’m sure we could think of something,” she says, taking his hand when he extends it for her to shake, “deal?”

He kisses her before responding, pulling her in by her outstretched hand; “deal.”

They get out of the car, Lexi skipping a few paces in front of Fez as she actually feels like she has a purpose at this party, a goal, and apparently purpose has exhilarating side effects. She gets a drink for herself on her way in, glancing back to see Fez behind her, his eyes flickering up to meet her eyes when he notices she’s turned to look at him; catching his stare.

“Were you staring at my ass?” Lex accuses in a low voice when he catches up to her, seeing his chest fall as he lets out a silent huff of laughter.

“Perhaps,” he admits as he steps up behind her, his hand subtly grazing her backside as he grabs a drink for himself.

“Aren’t you driving?”

He doesn’t say anything, “what?” She asks when all he does is give her an amused look.

“Nothin,” he finally says, putting the bottle back, “you right.”

She feels a little guilty when he does, closing her eyes as she goes onto apologize for being so uptight before a voice has her turning her attention.

“Lexi!”

Jules embraces her before she can prepare herself or respond, “youlooksogood,” she slurs when she eventually steps back, “I heard you got like, alcohol poisoning last time.”

“Oh… yea. You look good too, Jules.”

She smiles, kissing her cheek, “why thank you. Now c’mon, follow me. Oh! You too Fez,” she adds when she notices him, taking Lexi by the hand and leading her through the house.

Jules sits her down onto a couch, and Lexi’s partly aware of Fez sitting down next to her, listening passively to Jules as she begins a long montage about how happy she is that Lexi’s there. “Y’know, I feel bad,” she ends with.

“You feel bad?”

“Yea, like, I didn’t even see you all that drunk,” Jules tells her, “and so I feel bad.”

“Oh, it’s not a big deal, Jules, it’s okay.”

Lexi glances over at Rue as she observes them, making sure no one spills the truth; “and Fez,” Jules goes on, “that was really nice of you to take her.”

“Was my pleasure,” Fez tells her, his eyes shifting to meet Lexi’s briefly, giving her a small smile. “Lexi’s great,” he adds, sliding his arm along the back of the couch to rest his hand on her shoulder; pulling her into him.

The game was on.

“A friendship I didn’t know I needed,” Jules exclaims, and before Lexi can help herself she lets out a short laugh, stifling it with her hand.

“Hey,” Rue says after the excitement died down, “I heard you and Cassie got into a fight, I asked about you when I saw her and she said you guys, like, haven’t been speaking for a week or some shit.”

“Well, Cassie’s gone off her rocker,” Lexi tells her, “I don’t know, she sorta just snapped at me and we haven’t spoken since.”

“Yea, I noticed that,” Rue laughs, “you know, I swear…” she trails off, glancing over at Fez before continuing on, “she’s just been acting really weird.”

Lexi leans up against Fez a bit, nuzzling her head closer to his chest as she takes a few drinks, waiting till she’s swallowed before sitting up straight again.

It flies over both of the girls head, glancing over as Kat sees Jules and sits down next to her. “Oh hey, Lexi,” she greets before a smile forms on her mouth, “oh my God, are you drunk?”

Lexi laughs, “no!” But Kat doesn’t seem convinced as she just raises her eyebrows, “I’m not,” she insists.

“We just got here,” Fez tells her.

“We?”

“Oh, Lexi and Fez are friends now,” Jules cuts in, “he drove her home after she got wasted at O’Brians place a few weeks back.”

“Shit, that’s nice of you, Fez.”

“Always happy to help,” Fez says in his usual way, hiding his amusement much better than Lexi was as she has to keep one hand over her mouth.

Lexi brings the drink up to her mouth, biting down on the opening before finishing it off. She sits up to put the drink down, Fez’s arm dropping in the process, so that when she leans back again his hand grazes her waist, his fingers playing with the hem of her shirt.

“So, Lexi,” Kat says, “hows your play coming along?”

Lexi shrugs, “the castings are out of the way, so now we see if they can actually act.”

Kat laughs, “well good luck with that.”

“You doin a play?”

“Yea, I wrote it,” she tells Fez, “just something I’ve been doing in my spare time.”

She feels heat rising to her cheeks as she waits for his response, worried he’ll laugh or something; not exactly striking her as a ‘theatre arts’ type of guy.

“That’s sick,” he exclaims, her eyes finally meeting with his to see his enthusiasm.

“You should come watch, Fez,” Kat tells him, “if anything, I’m sure it’s going to be better than Oklahoma.”

“Aw, thanks Kat,” Lexi says, relaxing a bit as the others agree.

“I’ll try to make an appearance,” Fez replies, and she turns to see that he’s kept his attention on her the entire time. “Sounds cool.”

“Thanks.”

They let the conversation continue on without them, sitting in the silence they’ve created for themselves amidst all the noise. “Mind if your designated driver smokes a bit?” Fez finally asks her.

She laughs, “I’m sorry about earlier, if you really want to drink then—”

“—Nah,” he cuts her off, “I get it. I just have a bit of tolerance for this shit, so like, it wouldn’t be inhibiting my judgement or anything.”

“Of course.”

“But if it makes you uncomfortable—”

“—It doesn’t.”

He smiles, offering a hit of it after lighting it and taking a few puffs for himself, bringing it to her mouth as he always does rather than giving it for her to take in her hands.

Her stomach flutters as it always does, “you know,” she says after he pulls away and she exhales, “I can hold it for myself.”

“But then we wouldn’t be playing the game,” he tells her in a low voice, “and I like it better this way.”

She blushes, Fez letting his head rest on the back of the couch as he watches her, “and I think you like it better, too,” he adds, bringing his hand up to tuck a piece of her hair behind her ear.

She nods once before turning back to the crowd, her eyes travelling past them and happen to land on Maddie as she watches them from across the room. She looks away, noticing that the others have seen Maddy’s stare as well. “Hey Fez,” Rue slowly calls out, “you know Maddy right?”

“I… yea? If we thinking about the same one,”

“Nate Jacobs girlfriend slash not girlfriend,” Kat pipes in, and for a moment Lexi lets herself believe that that was why Maddy was staring.

But something about the sparkle in the girls eyes made Lexi think she wasn’t plotting revenge on Nates behalf.

“Well,” Rue says as Maddy starts walking over, “good luck Fez.”

Lexi doesn’t give any input as Fez looks her way, because the thing about Maddy was, well, she was observant at fuck, and she was always interested in Lexi’s love life; asking about it whenever she’s over.

“Hey Lexi,” Maddy says to everyone’s surprise, Lexi giving her a small smile as she watches her bite the sides of her tongue and raise her brow. She moves to sit down in one of the chairs, “how is everyone doing tonight?” She goes onto ask in a sing-songish type of way.

“Alright,” Kat tells her friend.

“Lexi. How’s your night going?”

“Pretty good, I guess,” she says slowly, giving Fez a quick look that makes Maddy smile, “what is it?” Lexi gives into asking.

“You know what.”

“Uh, we don’t,” Rue calls out, “so, if you can just confirm that you aren’t about to start a fight with Fez for, y’know, the thing…”

“What?” Maddy exclaims before realizing what she’s talking about, turning to look at Fez with a dismissive gesture, “hey. I’ve thought about hitting the fucker, myself. Probably would’ve if I had a shot at winning.”

“And you his girlfriend?” Fez asks.

Maddy pauses, “it’s complicated.”

“Fair enough.”

“So… am I literally the only person in this room that sees this?” Maddy finally asks, gesturing the Lexi and Fez with her pointer finger.

“Oh, they’re friends,” Jules pipes in, which makes Maddy scoff.

“Friends?” Maddie keeps her smile as she asks, chuckling to herself, “yea, okay. Have fun Lexi.”

“I… will,” Lexi responds timidly, ignoring everyone’s questioning stares as Maddy stands and tells everyone she’s got to go, her eyes flickering towards Fez.

“You should know that if you hurt her, I will ruin you,” she tells Fez, “I don’t care who you are, she’s like, basically my sister.”

It was true, for the most part. Maddy has been Cassie’s best friend for as longs as Lexi could remember, and whereas Cassie wasn’t always best at giving advice that wasn’t a little naïve, Maddy would tell it how it is,  and was pretty good at reading people.

After all, it was how she could see through all the stereotypical bullshit that grouped people together, catching on to the game Lexi and Fez were playing just after studying a few movements.

Lexi gives Fez a quick look as he nods, a little nervous by how he’ll react. “I respect that,” he finally tells her.

“She’s a good person, like an actually a good person,” Maddy continues on, eying his composure, “but I trust her judgement.”

Lexi admired Maddy for how good she was at recognizing stuff, and even though she took most of her boy advice with a grain of salt, given her choice of Nate Jacobs, she really did believe that Maddy knew a lot more than she let on when it came to most things.

She was like Lexi’s mentor in a weird way, even though Lexi wasn’t always able to relate to her in the way that Cassie might.

Maddy bids her farewells as she leaves, calling out from over her shoulder, “and use protection,” as she’s walking away. Lexi’s face goes red, letting out a nervous laugh as she looks around to see everyone’s reactions.

“Okay…” Kat finally speaks up, “I heard that conversation right, right?”

Rue responds by barking out a laugh, “I’m sorry,” she gasps out, “I’m just in a bit of shock, not going to lie.”

Lexi tensing, paling slightly as she worries about reliving another conversation like the one she had with Cassie. But Rue continues on, “fuck, you must think we’re idiots,” she exclaims.

“We did have a bet going,” Lexi admits, still a little tentative, though she does let herself smile lightly.

Rue shakes her head slowly, “damn.”

“That’s like, really cute though,” Jules adds after a second, giving Lexi a bright smile, “it’s like Romeo and Juliet.”

“Minus the double suicide?” Lexi suggests.

“Oh yea, of course.” Jules pauses, suddenly remembering a story she had forgotten to tell earlier and moving onto set the scene, discarding the previous conversation without a second glance. Lexi turns to look at Fez, their eyes lock for a passing second before he shifts and moves her legs to rest on his lap.

Lexi leans on the arm rest, getting a better view of his face as they sit in silence, listening to Jules’ elaborate story about her journey here, Lexi not getting a word out of it as she’s too busy admiring the boy next to her.

Time passes quickly, and before she knew it her and Fez were travelling back to the car, only passing Cassie on her way out. The two exchange a silent look, before Cassie rolls her eyes, breaking their gaze while Lexi stares for a little too long, accidentally bumping into… Nate Jacobs?

She sucks in a gasp of air, “my bad,” she mutters out as he passes without a second glance, annoyed that she even apologized to the guy as she catches up with Fez.

He’s watching her closely, “he didn’t give you any problems, did he?”

“No. It was my bad, really,” Lexi quickly tells him, smiling as his stare lingers on the house. “Seriously, Fez, it’s all good.”

“Yea, alright,” he says dismissively, only relaxing a bit when her hands turn him from staring at the house by his hips.

“C’mon, lets go home,” she mutters, “plus, last I checked, you were the one that gave us away.”

He shifts to look at her, the tops of his fingers resting under her chin, pushing her head up to meet his gaze. “Anything you got in mind?”

“Loser picks,” Lexi tells him, giving into his strength with a sigh as he presses her up against his car, his lips barely grazing hers before he’s pulling away, leaving her wanting more.

She hears him open the door, giggling as he leads her into the backseat, lying her down along the seats. He closes the door as he slides in, letting out a huff of air as he realizes it’s going to be a tight fit. “Cozy,” she comments as he reaches back and closes the door behind them, tucking her legs up so that he has room.

She’s wearing a skirt, much like the first time in that storage cabinet, and Fez takes no time in unzipping it, pulling it down to her ankles, leaving her half naked in the back of his car. She glances around, “hey,” Fez says as he notices, “we’re parked in a good place, trust me.”

“How do you know?”

“I know how to stay outta the way.”

She smiles, kicking her skirt off; “right. Street smarts.”

“Street smarts,” he agrees, lightly grazing her thigh as his weight shifts back, while pushing her into a more upright position with his other hand, getting her back to rest in the corner of the backrest and car door. Her breath catches in her throat as Fez manages to slide off the seat and angle himself so that his head can dip between her legs, keeping his gaze locked with hers as he pulls her underwear aside.

His eyes are wide, attentive, as he idly presses his lips to her inner thigh, his teeth grazing her thigh as he slowly makes his way up, Lexi shifting to try and relieve some of the tension as he teases her. “I—please,” she finally gives in, “just…”

Her voice dies in her throat as he responds by licking a stripe between her legs, her hand clawing at the window before finding the handlebar and braces herself as his tongue ripples against her. He stops her when she goes to cover her mouth, his hand shooting out to grab her by her wrist before she can properly react.

I wanna hear that shit, she remembers him saying, a small moan slipping from her lips as she rocks into him, his two fingers slipping into her as she throws her head back. “Oh my God, Fez,” she breathes out, her interest in how she sounded slowly dissolving as he hallows his cheeks and sucks at her clit, a jolt rushing through her body as she lets out a groan, her free hand sliding along the back of his head, pulling him closer as he begins to hasten, propelled on by her movement.

“Yes,” she encourages, repeating herself as her heart rate starts to climb, her chest heaving as her core begins to burn, stars hindering her sight as she lets out a ragged sob and bears down against the feeling; ecstasy shooting through her as she cums.

He only lets up when she pushes his head away, a breathless laugh escaping her as she catches the look he gives her.

Later, as they’re driving home, she can’t help but ask; “do you… like doing that?”

She catches his smile as he stares at the road, “yea,” he responds after a moment, his eyes flickering towards her, “yea, I do.”

“Can I ask… why?”

“I… dunno; just do.” He chuckles when it’s clear she isn’t convinced, “cause you taste good, Lexi Howard, and I like makin you, y’know… finish.”

Heat rises to her cheeks; she hears him laugh again.

The truth was, Fez wasn’t lying when he said he liked eating her out, it brought a satisfaction few things in life could compete with, and these days, most of them involved her.

His grandmas words had gotten louder every time he’d hang out with her, the ones that told him to keep his guard up around her, the ones that seemed so easy to follow you at the time. If she was awake he’d take Lexi to her, and ask how she’s mean’t to apply to a rule like this; how.

He listens to Lexi talk on the ride home, thinking back to how he felt when Nate Jacobs bumped into her, how it had made him realize another worry he had, one that his grandma never warned him about.

Fez knew the world, probably a bit better than Lexi, but more specifically, he knew his world—the one he was trying his best to keep her out of. He worried a lot about his world, and her place in it. As the more he realized he wasn’t about to listen to his grandmas advice, he’s left with the question of how he’s meant to protect Lexi from all of this.

“Fez?”

“Hm?”

“Do you… want to get out of the car? We’re here.”

He realizes he had gotten so wrapped up in his thoughts, he had driven home just from muscle memory alone. “Yea yea, of course,” he says, “just uh… Ashtrays and… Faye. They’re there.”

“Oh. Well, if you don’t want to…”

“Nah, they won’t be a bother,” Fez states, getting out of the car so he can take her hand and pull her to her feet as he decides it wasn’t worth cutting their night short. Even if him and Ashtray weren’t exactly on speaking terms; as right now, his situation was not much different from Lexi’s.

The night that Cassie and Lexi had their fight, Ashtray was busy asking Fez who Lexi was, and if he had been hit in the head recently to explain his decision making process. If Fez remembers correctly, Ashtrays exact words were: “are you actually fucking stupid.”

“I don’t wanna hear it,” Fez had fired back, and later when Lexi had left and it was just the two of them, Fez told Ashtray that he wasn’t going to stop seeing her.

“You’re fucking stupid, man.”

“Yea, well, you ain’t gunna change my mind.”

He was definitive about it, closing any further discussion for the time being.

Ashtray did eventually lightened up a bit, going onto ask Faye a few days later if Fez had really gotten so flustered.

“Yea,” she slowly tells him, “he like, couldn’t stop stuttering—”

“—I wasn’t fucking stuttering,” Fez had interjected, walking away when Faye only continued to insist, and he realized he wasn’t going to stop them.

Ashtray had found that bit funny.

“What about her sister?” Ash asked later that night.

“Cassie?”

“See cause that? I’d understand—”

“—Why the fuck would you understand that?” Fez counters, getting pissed off.  

“It’d just seem easier.”

“Easier how?”

Ashtray laughs like he knew something Fez didn’t, which Fez didn’t like very much, ready to leave before he even heard what the kid had to say.

He had wished later that he had done just that.

“You know the website that’s got everyone’s personal pictures?” Ashtray chuckled, raising his eyebrows slightly as he catches the moment Fez retains the meaning behind his sentence.

“Nah bro, that ain’t right.”

“Fez. Do you forget we’re fucking drug dealers here?”

“Still gotta uphold some sort of code, you’re too young for that shit anyways.”

“Too young? Ain’t too young to know what good tits look like.”

“You gunna shut your mouth, and you ain’t ever gunna say somethin’ like that, again.”

Ashtray had stared at him for a moment before scoffing, probably surprised more than anything to hear Fez speak so fast, giving time for Fez to storm off without saying another word.

He glances over at Lexi now, noticing how she nervously clasps her hands together as they walk to the door. “Hey,” he says, as he tries to provide some form of comfort, sliding his arm around her waist, “don’t be so in your head about it.”

He doesn’t know how helpful it was, but she leans into him regardless, letting him lead her inside.

“Who is it!”

Ashtray’s voice carries through the empty house, Fez waiting till the door is closed before responding; “it’s me.”

A silence follows, Lexi waiting for Fez to move first before walking into the kitchen, coming face to face Ashtray, clearly taken aback by the girl Fez had next to him.

“Yo.”

Lexi blinks, giving him a tight smile, “hi,” she responds. “I’m… Lexi.”

“We know.”

Fez glares at his brother, though his face reverts back to neutral when he turns to address her, “this Ashtray, and Faye,” he says, gesturing to both individually before leading her into the living room, figuring they’ll be easier to handle with some background noise.

Even if they did follow them, making themselves right at home before Fez could protest.

Of course, Faye has to make a point that she’s seen Lexi before, asking her if she was a cop, and that was why Fez had been nervous.

“Uh no… I’m not a cop,” Lexi tells her, glancing over at Fez in mild confusion. But Fez was more focused on Ashtray as he studies the girl, eying how closely they sit together, even if they weren’t, like, holding hands or anything.

Fez can tell she feels Ashtrays stare, keeping her eyes glued to the TV as Fez flicks the channels, finding something to watch, knowing that at a certain point, Ash would loose his patients and tell him what to watch.

“No, go back,” he finally gives in, breaking the silence whether he knew what Fez was doing or not, “fuck, just give me the remote if you’re gunna be that indecisive with it.”

“Have at it,” Fez says, tossing him the controls, holding back a smile as Ashtrays attention becomes solely devoted to the TV, falling for the trap Fez had so easily laid out for him. That made things better, as even though

Faye still asks the odd question, but it’s much easier to manage without Ash’s hostility, and so he can tell that as the show continues on, Lexi starts to relax.

Sometime later, Ashtray decides he’s had enough, retreating to his room to play video games, and Faye… well, Faye decided to leave as well, worrying that, “you guys are going to like fuck in front of me, aren’t you.”

“N-no,” Lexi stutters out, but Faye leaves anyways, saying something vulgar in that monotone voice of hers that made it sound absurd. Lexi turns to Fez, horrified, Fez only really catching the tail end of whatever she had said, something along the lines of —lick his asshole. 

It was enough to know that he didn’t want the rest.

“That’s just her,” Fez tells her, “ain’t got nothin to do with you.”

“I mean, it didn’t look like we were about to fuck, right?”

“Just look on the bright side, they both gone now,” he points out, secretly a little grateful they were both so aloof.

She smiles, “yea… I don’t know, I sorta wanted them to like me,” she admits quietly.

“Well, Ash is paranoid as fuck, so it takes him a while to like anyone new,” Fez assures her, “but like, Faye seemed to be cool with you.”

“She just left cause she thought we were about to fuck in front of her.”

“Yea well, she might be a lil’ paranoid too.”

Lexi laughs, “and what about you.”

“I’ve already told you you make me nervous.”

She pauses to meet his eye, “but like… you know I’m not going to fuck you over or anything. Right?”

“Yea,” and it dawns on him that he’s telling the truth just then, furrowing his brow as he realizes how far he’d go to keep her safe; “as long as you know I ain’t about to pull that shit on you either.”

Another truth—he’d do anything if it meant he wouldn’t hurt her.

She nods, her head dipping to barely graze his lips with hers as she kisses him, leaving him with his eyes half-closed; waiting for her. When she leans in again, his hand is ready for her, snagging a section of her hair and pulling her closer.

His tongue gently slides into her mouth, feeling her shift closer, squaring her hips to him, and he’s picking her up and brings her onto his lap without breaking the kiss. She moans as she feels him half-hard beneath her, rolling into his cock as it twitches against her, his head light as he begins to seek the release he often finds when he’s with her.  

“Fuck Lex,” he curses against her lips when she repeats the act with a bit more confidence, slowly finding her rhythm until she’s grinding into him at a steady pace, his hips faltering as pleasure washes over him.

He’s tracing small circles into her waist as he holds her, helping her rock into him, her skin hot to the touch as he leans back to watch her expression go slack, his jaw loose as he looks up at her.

“You look… so fucking good,” he mutters before he can help himself, and he knew it wasn’t the right word to use, but, like always, she doesn’t seems to mind it, smiling down at him like he just wrote her a fucking poem.

There’s a gasp on her lips, louder than the one before as her hips shudder, a desperate whine following as Fez watches her unravel before him, layer by layer until she’s practically slamming her hips into him. Fez hisses as he frantically tries to hold her hips down, worried that if they don’t slow down he might just finish before they start.

“C’mon. Bedroom,” he tells her in a strained voice, watching her ball her fist in an attempt at restraint.

But she lets him pick her up, settling on taking her frustration out by sliding her hand down the collar of his shirt and lightly digging her nails in his skin. “I’m so close,” she whispers in his ear as he carries her to the bed, a noise escaping him that sorta sounds like he’s being strangled.

He reaches back to slam the door shut as she takes her shirt off, skirt, underwear—everything—Fez watching with an en-tranced satisfaction as he does the same, the two meeting in the middle as he leads her down onto the mattress.

He considers going down on her again, but decides he has time for that later, reaching for a condom instead. She squirms beneath him as he fumbles for the side table, his body lurching as he feels her delicate hand wrap around his dick, her thumb rubbing around his tip, earning a delirious sigh from Fez as he finally finds the foiled package, pausing to savour the feeling.

“Can I… I want to ride you,” Lexi breathes out.

She wants to… Fez swallow hard as he looks her way, his hands faltering as he’s sliding the condom on. “Y-yea,” he tells her, “go for it.”

She responds by hooking her legs around his waist, yanking him down to lie on his back as she moves to straddle him, her hips moving instinctively, sliding along his length as she takes a deep breath.

“Like this?” She asks, pitching forward slightly to hover over him, Fez’s hands sliding up her front to cup her tits, squeezing them as his eyes flicker to watch her take his dick and slowly sink onto it.

“Yea,” Fez grits out, “like that.”

Her eyes widen as she starts to move, Fez sitting up against the headboard as his neck strains, his mouth pressing kisses along her collarbone, moving to her tits, twist his tongue around her nipple to be rewarded with a quiet moan. She starts moving faster, tipping forward and giving him access to her neck as she tilts her head to one side, her hair collecting to fall over her one shoulder.

He’s careless as he begins to kiss her there, his tongue flattening along her skin before he’s nipping at her, sucking a mark that colours the side of her neck, her quiet encouragements stir him on as he plants his feet flat against the mattress and starts to meet her hips with his; thrusting up into her.

She cries out, Fez’s hand hastily coming up to cover her mouth, while the other holds the base of her scull, “shhh,” he whispers as she lets out another muffled noise, keeping his rhythm as he meets her eye; “you got this.”

Her hips stutter, and Fez starts to hit the same spot inside of her every time, his one hand sliding down her front to rub up against her clit every time her hips come down to meet him, a silent plea as his core begins to burn, warning him he’s close.

He feels her contract around him, a groan escaping him before he can help himself as she does it again with a whine, their lips crashing together as she starts to move erratically, Fez heaving as he tries to hold on for a little longer just as he hears her squeak out the words he’s looking for; seizing around him, fucking strangling his cock.

His insides wring tight as he holds her hips steady, pounding into her as she buckles into his chest, their lips still locked as the wave of ecstasy overtakes Fez, her cunt still pulsing as she takes his final few thrusts. He whimpers quietly, moving to bury his face in her neck as he milks the last of his high before slowing to a stop; buried deep inside.

Lexi slowly slides off of him, their lips still lazily exploring the other as Fez kisses her wherever he wants to, finding her forehead last as they slowly topple to one side.

He takes in her flushed appearance, the tired smile she gives him as his thumb brushes her cheekbone, “was that… good?” She asks, and it takes everything in him to not burst out into laughter.

“You’re a natural,” he decides on going with, though she still picks up on his amusement as she giggles in response.

Eventually, he’s pulling himself to his feet to get cleaned up, grimacing slightly as he discards the condom in the bathroom, which he catches himself doing through the reflection of the mirror.

Some tough guy now, damn, Fez thinks to himself, chuckling as he finishes up in the bathroom and turns into the hallway. For a moment, it doesn’t even register what Lexi’s doing as he catches her standing in the doorway of his grandmas room, but as she turns to look at him he remembers Lexi didn’t know she was there.

“I’m sorry,” Lexi rushes out.

“Nah, don’t be,” Fez tells her, gesturing for her to follow him into the room, “she doesn’t mind.”

“Who…”

“My grandma,” Fez tells her, “she’s the one who raised me and Ash.”

He can tell Lexi wants to ask about his parents, but she refrains, looking to the older woman instead, “you take care of her?”

“Yea.”

 “That’s really good of you.”

“Well…” he trails off, flinching slightly as the memory resurfaces, “I shoulda called 911 when it happened, so like, it’s whatever.”

“What?”

“Plus she raised me and shit, can’t forget about that,” he adds, regretting his previous statement as soon as he had said it.

“What did you mean, before?” She asks him.

“I drove her to the hospital, cause like, I didn’t wanna bring a bunch of cops and shit to the house,” Fez explains, “but it wasn’t the right decision.”

“How do you know?”

Fez gestures to the monitors that his grandma is hooked up to, “cause I can’t ask her.”

Lexi shrugs, “yea, well. All you know is what happened, nothing else is for sure.” They both go quiet, Fez watching her from the corner of his eye as she studies the room, glancing over at the makeup and clothes that hadn’t been moved for some time now.

“So what about her? Was she paranoid too?”

Fez laughs, knowing the obvious answer without really having to consider it.

“Yea,” he starts, staring at his grandma like she was talking to him now, “but she woulda liked you.”

Maybe even enough to get why Fez wanted to keep her around.

[cyhyr]

Whumpmas in July: Mistake

Fandom: Naruto

Rating: E

Pairing: Hatake Kakashi/Umino Iruka

WC: ~2910

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Notes: Oral sex, Dissociation, Triggers, Hair-pulling, Aftercare, Vomiting, Past Abuse, Past Mizuki/Iruka, flashbacks, Self-Esteem Issues

A/N: I'm. Not comfortable in my ability to write smut. And so we throw in whump to cover up the fact that I don't know how to write smut.

A sequel to "Sleep"

For @whumpmasinjuly prompt list

Read On The Archive

~

When Iruka gets stressed, he cleans. Obsessively. The day after his and Kakashi’s failed first time together, Iruka scrubbed the grout in his bathroom for hours before realizing that maybe it was gray on purpose, to accent the white tile. He couldn’t find it in himself to feel stupid; his bathroom was clean and he was no longer stressed about what he’d done—or, as the case was, not done.

Today, he preemptively organizes and dusts the bookshelves. Do they need it? Not particularly; he’d dusted the whole apartment top-to-bottom three weeks ago when he’d said something dumb at one of his and Kakashi’s dates. He doesn’t remember what it was he’d said but it was… urgh.

He’s going to see Kakashi again tonight. He is excited. They’ll have dinner, then go for a walk, and then Kakashi will walk him home. That’s when Iruka will ask him to come inside and he will get over himself and finally sleep with his boyfriend.

But if he thinks about it too much his chest starts to ache. Therefore: dusting and organizing. He can’t think about Kakashi’s dick when he’s trying to sort out his fūinjutsu scrolls from his teaching references. He can’t think about how much he wants to do literally anything else besides getting naked with Kakashi. He can’t think about… about how, in the wrong lighting, Kakashi and Mizuki look similar enough that—

Iruka drops his dusting cloth and runs to the toilet.

~

The date goes well, their walk through Konoha is relaxing and perfect, and like always, Kakashi asks if he can walk Iruka home.

“Of course,” he says. He leans into Kakashi and relishes the arm around his shoulders. His own arm is loose around Kakashi’s waist. They’re not far from Iruka’s apartment, so they take their time and stroll slowly, silently.

It’s nice.

(It’d be nicer if everyone would stop staring at Iruka like he’s the shit on the bottom of Kakashi’s sandal. He knows Kakashi can do so much better, but could the village curb their disgust just a little so he can enjoy the time Kakashi deigns to give him?)

They stop outside Iruka’s door and Kakashi politely steps back while he works the wards. He keeps a hand on the small of his back, but his body is turned away to face the village. Iruka appreciates the gesture, even though he’s vaguely sure that Kakashi could break through his wards if he really wanted to.

“I’ll see you later, then?” Kakashi asks after the door swings open.

“Or,” Iruka loops his fingers in Kakashi’s vest and tugs gently. Kakashi comes closer like it was his own idea, his arms slipping all the way around Iruka. “You could come inside,” Iruka murmurs against Kakashi’s mask, letting the double entendre hover between them.

Kakashi walks him into the apartment and closes the door behind them. He crowds Iruka back against the door. “Get your wards back up,” he growls, pulling his mask down and kissing Iruka’s neck while his fingers unbutton the civvie shirt Iruka had chosen to wear for their date.

Oh, but pulling his hands away from Kakashi’s body, even long enough just to put the wards back in place, is hell. He places his palms on the door behind him and shivers while Kakashi touches him and moves from his neck to his jaw and back to his ear. Iruka finishes the wards at the same time as Kakashi slips free the last button on his shirt and pushes it aside.

Iruka fumbles with Kakashi’s vest zipper while they slide Iruka’s shirt off his shoulders. Kakashi’s thigh gets in-between his legs and presses up and Iruka dies a little, moans and closes his eyes. Iruka’s shirt goes… somewhere, along with Kakashi’s vest, and then his uniform shirt.

They’d gotten further before; not too much further. Iruka pulls Kakashi out of the genkan and together, they stumble through the living room and down the hall to his bedroom. Along the way they lose his belt and Kakashi’s trousers, and they have to stop in the same place they had last week so Iruka can shove his palms in Kakashi’s underwear and grope him mercilessly.

It’s here, mere paces from his bed, with Kakashi’s cock in one hand and the firm flesh of his ass in the other, that Iruka quiets the panic and ache in his chest, and mutters, “I’d really like to find out how you taste.”

The look Kakashi gives him is almost enough to drop him to his knees right there. Kakashi takes his hands and pulls them away from his body, and then drags Iruka the rest of the way to the bedroom. Iruka can’t help but giggle at his enthusiasm, and smiles into the kisses Kakashi draws him into once they’re in sight of the bed.

He pushes Kakashi to sit down. Kakashi’s mouth drifts down his body to his chest, his arms wrapping around him to hold him close. Iruka pets silver hair while Kakashi licks and nips at him, groans when he sucks one of Iruka’s nipples into his mouth and tongues at it. Kakashi slips a hand down the back of Iruka’s trousers, palming his ass and groaning against his chest. Iruka gasps, swallows the newly rising panic, and pulls away just enough to place his hand along Kakashi’s cheek and jaw, to thumb at his lips.

Kakashi nips him. Iruka breathes and grins.

He goes down slowly, willfully the opposite of how Mizuki always wanted. Mizuki had always wanted to hear Iruka’s knees hit the floor; it made him feel powerful or something, Iruka isn’t sure anymore. But he knows he has to do this differently than he used to, or he isn’t going to make it through without panicking. So he relaxes between Kakashi’s legs, braces his hands on the mattress on either side of his hips, and glances up to catch Kakashi’s eye as he leans in and noses Kakashi’s erection through his boxers.

“Iruka—” he chokes. His lips part and his chest heaves. He keeps his arms locked behind him, propping himself upright.

So far, different reactions than he’d ever gotten with Mizuki. Good. Iruka is going to need to latch onto that, should his head start going fuzzy.

Iruka breathes in Kakashi, bitter and dark and unfortunately so much like Mizuki. He’ll get past it. He tips his head and mouths at pale inner thighs, delights at the gasping sigh he gets in return, then looks back up and projects his movements enough to let Kakashi know; he pulls on the waistband of his boxers and Kakashi helpfully lifts his hips so they can pull them off. Iruka lets them pool around his ankles because holy shit he’s got better things to do.

Like—

He takes the tip in his mouth and they moan in harmony. Bitter arousal settles on his tongue and clings to his lips as he slides down KAkashi’s thick cock, and oh gods it hits his throat too soon. He whimpers, pulls back, tries again; he gets Kakashi to slide down his throat a little bit that time.

Like—

Iruka touches Kakashi’s thighs, drifts his fingertips over the thin skin of his hips, cups and fondles his balls. He closes his eyes and his stomach clenches and his pants are tight. He’s turning himself on by touching Kakashi and it’s a rush he hasn’t felt in so long. Since before he and Mizuki attained chūnin, when they were still too young. When he could still reasonably delude himself into thinking that Mizuki loved him.

Like—

“Oh gods, oh fuck, Iruka, please please please let me touch you too, you have no idea how beautiful you are right now, so perfect, so—shit, so hot, please Iruka I wanna touch you please.”

~

So he does something stupid.

Something catastrophically stupid.

But gods, Kakashi’s cock was in his mouth and he was so turned on for the first time in-in years.

And he acts on instinct.

~

Kakashi is trying. So… hard. Not to explode. But Iruka is between his legs, licking and sucking at his cock and touching him so gently. So gently it fucking hurts and it hurts so good. So he babbles.

He’s not proud of it. But he gets turned on, and his mouth starts running. There’s a reason he doesn’t do honeypot missions. He did one and nearly got himself and his contact killed.

Then Iruka takes his hands and places them on his head, looks up at him with a mouthful of cock and fucking hums, and Kakashi shivers and threads his fingers through beautiful brown locks. Iruka goes back to touching him and Kakashi relishes the texture of soft hair under his palms.

Iruka’s mouth is a warm vice around his cock. He gently urges Iruka’s head further down until he’s comfortably down Iruka’s throat, feeling Iruka relax around him and whimper and groan. His lips are stretched obscenely around Kakashi’s cock; he drops one hand away from Iruka’s hair to thumb at his lips. He’s drooling a bit. Kakashi wipes it away.

“So good, Iruka,” he mutters. Iruka whines below him—he tightens his hand in his hair. “Gods, look at you, so perfect, taking me so well. No gag reflex—if you wanted, I could fuck your throat all night, couldn’t I?”

Iruka sucks his cock tighter. Kakashi gasps.

“Close,” he grunts. “Can I—oh fuck—can I come in your mouth? It’s okay if not, I get most people don’t like it but please you’re so good I don’t want to pull out.”

He doesn’t back off. He doesn’t stop. His tongue moves more if it’s possible. Kakashi shuts his eye.

“Iruka, please, I really need you to—ahh. Yes or no. Can I—shit shit fuck oh gods Iruka—!”

Then he has both hands in Iruka’s hair and his cock pulsing down Iruka’s throat and he’s in heaven for a spectacular, perfect, thirteen seconds. Iruka continues to swallow around him while he catches his breath, until he edges into overstimulation and pulls back.

Iruka whimpers and licks at him as he goes, and Kakashi can’t help but chuckle and hold Iruka’s face. “That was amazing. Are you—Iruka?”

Iruka’s breath is stuttering again. He’s still looking at Kakashi’s dick, but he’s dazed and his eyes are unfocused.

Kakashi reaches down and pulls his boxers back up. “Shit,” he mutters. He brushes hair away from Iruka’s face and tips his chin up so he’s not staring at Kakashi’s crotch. “Fuck, hey, Iruka? Iruka, please, please talk to me. You were able to talk before. What do you need?”

No response.

“Shit.”

~

Iruka drifts.

He knows his chest aches, but he stopped feeling it a minute ago. His scalp tingles, but it’s better than the pain he was in before Mizu—Kaka—um. Before. Before. He’s nauseous, and he knows as soon as he resurfaces he’ll need to throw up and Mizuki’ll be furious—no, Mizuki’s gone.

What do you need?

How does one say that one needs to be used? How does he tell someone that, in order to feel… right… he needs Mizuki. Mizuki’s the only one who could love him, right? Even if he didn’t, in the end, he’s the only one who could, and that made all the difference.

Shit.

Shit, indeed. He can’t. He can’t tell anyone. He’s stuck now, he’s stuck here, his scalp aching after his hair’s been pulled and his stomach turning, full of come. He wants Mizuki. Mizuki doesn’t leave forever. It’s been so long, but Mizuki always comes back.

What did Naruto say about these episodes…

Nononono

“No, gods, please, I’ll be good, don’t hurt him.”

He knows his voice is small, his throat is wrecked from the cock he’d sucked before. But whoever’s in the room with him—and he can be reasonably certain there’s someone around him because he hasn’t dissociated alone in over a year and a half—crowds him, picks him up, and places him somewhere soft.

It’s not… it doesn’t work with the rest of his memory.

Naruto’s safe, Iruka. You’re safe.

Safe? He hasn’t been safe with—with—hmm.

He’s on… he’s on his bed. Alone. Not-not alone in the room. He can’t tell who/what/when but he’s not-alone in his room and there are fingers gently stroking his arm from elbow to wrist.

Please come back.

“Please, Iruka, come back to me.”

Oh.

Iruka blinks and his chest aches and his stomach turns and Mizuki is kneeling next to his bedside; blinks and it’s Kakashi, still shirtless and keeping a good distance.

Oh, Kakashi.

It’s. It’s sweet. Not what he needs, or wants, but sweet all the same.

“K’kashi?” he mutters.

“Oh thank fuck. Are you okay? Can I get you anything—water, snack, blanket? Do you need me to leave, stay, what? What can I do for you?”

Iruka smiles as best he can. He reaches out with the hand closest to Kakashi and brushes his own fingers against Kakashi’s still-bare cheek. “Water would be great, please,” he says.

Kakashi nods, and turns his lips against Iruka’s fingers briefly before leaving. He’s still in just his boxers—he never left his side while he dissociated. He could have. Iruka would never have known.

Then his stomach flips and Iruka covers his mouth and jumps up, stumbling to the bathroom. He doesn’t get a chance to close the door, and barely lifts the lid on the toilet. His knees slam against the tile and he heaves, bracing one hand on his belly and the other on the toilet seat. Tears collect in the corner of his eyes and he sobs after the fourth and final heave.

“Iruka?”

“I’m okay,” he murmurs. He spits, flushes, and closes the lid. He’ll clean later. Gods, he’ll clean later.

Kakashi is beside him, helping him stand with strong hands on his elbow and back. Iruka stops to wash up—hands, teeth, rinse, toss the toothbrush—and then they continue back to the bedroom. Well, they almost go back.

Iruka stops in the doorway.

It smells of musk and sex. His stomach tries to flip again.

“I can’t—Kakashi, I can’t go back in there right now, please don’t—”

“Hey, shh,” Kakashi pulls him back and leads him down the hall to the living room. They stop briefly to pick up his trousers, but not long enough to put them on. He guides Iruka to sit at the kotatsu, lifting the quilt to settle him underneath. “Do you want me to bring you a shirt?”

Iruka nods shakily. Kakashi leaves and comes back quickly with a glass of water, and before he leaves again he brushes a kiss on the top of Iruka’s head. Iruka snuggles under the quilt and breathes, trying to figure out where he went wrong.

They’d stripped—fine.

He’d gotten his mouth on Kakashi—fine.

Found out Kakashi is really chatty during sex—had a suspicion about that, nice to have it confirmed.

Kakashi wanted to touch him, too—that was—

Oh. Um.

Kakashi called him “good.”

Not good.

Kakashi pulled his hair.

Iruka basically did this to himself, didn’t he?

Kakashi comes back, trousers on and a uniform shirt in hand. He stops in front of Iruka and asks, “Can I join you?”

Iruka tries to answer by lifting the quilt.

Kakashi shakes his head. “Verbal response only, please. I… for my peace of mind.”

He can’t help a soft smile. “Yes,” he whispers.

And Kakashi falls to his side and hands him his shirt. He pulls it on and curls up next to Kakashi, breathes in his skin and realizes he must have stopped off at the bathroom to wash up.

“We need to talk about this,” Kakashi says, holding him close. “Not now, if you can’t. But as soon as possible. I can’t—I can’t hurt you like this again, okay?”

Iruka nods. “I understand. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t—”

“It’s my fault, Kakashi. I… I thought I could do it. And I was the one who didn’t stop when it was too much.”

“Were you able to stop?”

Iruka blinks. Lifts his head and looks evenly at Kakashi. “What’s that mean?”

“In your flashback,” Kakashi scowls, “would you have been able—allowed—to stop?”

His mouth goes dry. He looks away.

Kakashi’s hand cups his chin and draws him back. “This is why we need to talk it out. I need to know your limits. I need to know your triggers. I need to know your tells.”

Iruka closes his eyes. “I—I don’t know a lot of it. Naruto knows… some of it. I’m sorry.”

“Hey,” Kakashi tips their foreheads together. “We’ll get through this. I’m not—I’m not gonna leave just because loving you is tricky.”

Love?

“Also, that blowjob was excellent and I’m very much looking forward to the day I can get another one without triggering you.”

Iruka laughs sadly. “Sorry to say, I think if you’re looking for ways to avoid, um, that… blowjobs are off the table for the foreseeable future.”

Kakashi hums in response. “I’ll go without. I can go without anything and everything if it means I get to keep this.” He pulls Iruka ever closer and asks, “Can I kiss you?”

Iruka hesitates.

“Just a kiss, I promise.”

Iruka nods, confirms, “Just a kiss,” and presses their lips together chastely.

[bluebloodstained]

;|; Mobile Rules ;|;

Mun Info

name: Moe Loogham

age: 21

birthday: September 25th

pronouns: She/Her

faceclaim: Deadpool, Rose Quartz, or Loki

rp experience: 8+ Years

discord: Available to Mutuals on Request!

HELLO!

I'm Moe! It's great to meet you. After taking a very long break from the tumblr rpc, I've decided to dive back in, because why the hell not.

I'm from New York, I have two beautiful guinea pigs named Sage and Rosemary and I'm a witch, that's just about everything you gotta know. I recently graduated from college, and still trying to figure out where I wanna be in the world, so this is my little corner of the internet where I come to unwind and scream about my favorite roboy.

My Rules have been broken up into sections. I will try to keep each section as brief as possible while still informing you of everything you need to know about how I like to run things.

Blog Etiquette + Following

This blog is

PRIVATE, SELECTIVE, and MUTUAL'S ONLY and 21+.

I do not follow for a follow, and I do not follow back unless I am interested in threadding with you. If I follow your blog, it means I have read your rules and bio at the very least! I do not send in passwords, but if you have a post that you would like to direct followers to when they've read your rules, I will like it.

If we are not mutuals, you are still free to interact through asks and ask memes. i reserve the right to delete/ignore asks from mutuals and non-mutuals alike! this is mostly out of precaution, and would only be done in cases that violate privacy or cause discomfort.

I will only thread with other Roleplay/Ask blogs. Sideblogs are fine, but if your main blog is a personal, please let me know and tell me your sideblog url! If you RP off of your personal, I will not follow/thread with you. This is mainly to keep my dash organized. That being said, I will not unfollow someone just because they post OOC a lot. I know I have a tendency to do the same sometimes.

I am not okay with nonmutuals reblogging my content. Feel free to like them, but reblogging anything will result in a soft block. Repeated offenses will result in your blog being blocked. I'm not here to be your aesthetic/graphic archive.

The same applies to ask memes. Do not use me as your meme resource. ALWAYS reblog from the source.

Just as a general note, sometimes I will have periods of low activity. I try to be active at the VERY LEAST once a week, and sometimes I'll be able to crank out like 10 replies in one day. But real life always comes first, for me AND any of my rp partners. RPing is a hobby for me, and I don't let it stress me out. Of course, if it's been a week or two since I've replied, there's a very good chance that I've just forgotten to respond. If that happens, do not be afraid to poke me about it.

If I ever want to drop a thread, I'll let you know, and I'll very much appreciate if you do the same, but it's absolutely not required. I don't mind at all, if anything I'll usually ASK if you want to drop it and if you do, that's completely fine. The other option I have for threading is ARCHIVING, for when we have a thread that we want to put down for now, but maybe pick up again later. If you'd rather Archive a thread instead of drop it, just tell me. :)

Also!

All Icons on this blog are made/screenshotted by me or RK800ISALIVE, and my post banners were made by DENICDLIFE Please do not take them or use them!!

Shipping + Exclusivity

this entire section is very important. please read it carefully, and feel free to ask me if you don't understand something.

This isn't my first rodeo. I love shipping. I am perfectly open to shipping. HOWEVER, that is not the sole purpose of this blog. Regardless of canon, fanon, personal preference or otherwise, unless we have spoken previously about it, Connor will not be automatically shipped with your muse. This blog is OCxCanon friendly, and canon ships are fine too. But for ANY case, I ship chemistry If your muse doesn't click with mine, that's totally fine. But please don't try to force a ship on me, and do not follow me if shipping is the only thing you're looking for out of our threads.

On that note: Original Characters. They're great, I love hearing about them and seeing their depth and complexity. But if your OC has little to no history, or if their sole purpose is to flirt with Connor, please do not ask to interact.

I've had so many experiences in the past with OCs whose existence is based around wanting to bang my muse and it really grates on me. It's nothing personal, I know writing only gets better with practice, but if you come to me asking to be a detective who works with Connor and that's all the information you have, I really ask that you go find another Connor to interact with.

I will only ship with your muse after discussing it out of character. IC flirting is the only exception to this, but do not get angry if Connor does not respond the way you want him to.

I don't want to have to put that there, but it's happened to me too many times before and it's an uncomfortable situation for everyone involved. Please don't do it.

This blog is NOT Exclusive, but I do practice Maining with other muses. What that means is if we have previously discussed it, and have had enough interaction, my muse will refer to yours in conversation or in terms of relationship depending on circumstance.

Once I have created mains, they will be posted in the Navigation tab. Occasionally I may post a mains call, which invites anyone interested to discuss becoming a main with Connor.

Mains have top priority for threads.

TRIGGERS + NSFW

I am 21+ years old, and NSFW can and will happen on this blog, however I will always keep anything that contains NSFW under a "read more" cut for the sake of any followers who are not comfortable with seeing NSFW content.

I am comfortable with most NSFW topics. I absolutely WILL NOT write about pedophelia or incest, and definitely WILL NOT rp sexual situations with minors or people who I have not shared consent with. This is for my safety as well as those who I interact with. I'm trying to get into grad school, not jail.

I will try to tag triggers accordingly as they appear. Triggering content that MAY appear on this blog include:

Abuse

Child/Character Death

Disease

Drugs/Drug Use

Alcohol

Execution/Murder

Gore

Nudity

Self-Harm

Suicide/Mental Health Issues

Verbal/Physical Violence

Torture

Important: mun and muse are mutually exclusive. I am not Connor. Connor is not me. Actions performed in threads do not reflect me or my personal beliefs, unless otherwise explicitly stated by me.

If you've made it this far, I would really appreciate if you could like this post, just to let me know you've read and understand all my rules. If you are not comfortable doing so, that's fine! It's really just to help me know people cared enough to go through the whole list. :) It's not at all an obligation, but it would be really awesome.

Despite the fact I am comfortable with NSFW, I prefer to be comfortable with the other mun as a person before agreeing to write these topics with you. I am not obligated to write NSFW with anyone.

Last Updated: 8/19/2020

[notsoharsh]

The Scholarly Adventures of Brain Girl and Blood Dude || Morgan & Harsh

TIMING: Mid July LOCATION: The Scribe HQ PARTIES: @mor-beck-more-problems and @notsoharsh SUMMARY: Morgan and Harsh take a little field trip to read a lot of dusty old books. 

Thanks to her super-strength, Morgan was able to pull more books for Harsh’s soul problem than she ever could have on her own. She lead him down the dusty shelves with the glee of a suburbanite at the fancy grocery store, plucking everything that seemed remotely tied to the subject at hand. “This place is pretty amazing, right? I mean just look at everything you can accomplish with some collective organization and, well, deep pockets, probably,” she said, smiling. “We’re casting a wide net, but, obviously, indexes are going to be our friend, so if you can’t find any of our keywords inside, just move it into a nope pile. I went ahead and put it on a flashcard.” She turned and passed him one. “I hope you don’t mind my getting a little excited. I get it, why you might not be, and it’s not that I don’t appreciate the gravity of the situation. I think I just really miss having a reason to come back here.” And something concrete, even tangible, to hope for. 

So this was the Scribe HQ. Harsh hadn’t really thought about the place before, but somehow he had expected it to be harder to get into. Not like he was about to complain about that. He trailed after Morgan, eyes scanning the shelves. “It’s really… something.” He should probably be impressed, but with each title, he had to fight to keep his eyes from glazing over. There was so much. How were they ever going to find anything in here? He took the flashcard with a little nod. “It’s fine. Honestly, I was kinda surprised you were so up for this. And I get that. There’s… a lot in here. Did you come here a lot for witchy stuff?” He grabbed one of the books Morgan had selected, blowing the dust from the ancient cover before opening it and squinting at the writing. “This one looks like it’s just philosophy, ‘what does it mean to be ensouled’. I’m guessing there’s not really a section here with a bunch of how-to guides?”

Morgan continued to look, climbing onto stacks of books on the ground to reach higher ones. “Nope, just my curse. It went back over a hundred years deep so I had to trace back all these obnoxious second and third hand accounts to all the terrible things that happened to my ancestors trying to get down to the source. My mom had a lot of faults, but enforcing a well rounded magic education wasn’t one of them.” She balanced on the tips of her toes to get another book, On the Metaphysical Material of Human Essence, and jumped back down, grimacing only a little when she landed off and had to knock her ankle back into place. “Magic is complicated, Harsh,” she said. “In a good way! Say your magical heart’s desire is the number 20. You can get there by ten times two, or five times four, or fifteen plus five, or nineteen plus one. Lots of roads can get you to twenty. Also, witches are, historically, protective of their grimoires. And some spells are too sacred or too dangerous to really want to pass down, you know? Ooh, seriously, check the index of that philosophical one, though. There might be some reference to some, I don’t know, random Romanian death cult that was known to help vampires restore their souls. That would give us a lead to follow up on.” She moved on to the next shelf before popping her head around the corner again. “I’m kidding about the death cult, by the way. I don’t know if that’s a real thing. But it would be pretty cool if it was, right?”

“Shit. Y’know, as long as I’ve been dealing with this stuff, the whole ‘ancient curse’ thing is still kinda wild. I guess I need to expand my horizons a little more,” Harsh said, watching her scramble about. He should probably offer to help, but… she seemed pretty content. Even he could understand needing a project. That was a lot of numbers, but it sort of made sense. Kind of. “I’ve picked up on the protective thing. That coven weren’t the first ones I tried to go to. A bunch of them would’ve rather staked me than let me see any of their dusty old books. Yeah, got it.” He flicked through the book, finding the index number before scanning the pages again. “I’m not seeing Romanian death cults, but there’s some Latin stuff in here. Well, I think it’s Latin, but all I know is audio, video, disco, so we’re gonna need some translating if that’s actually gonna help much.” He chuckled as he set the book down and grabbed another. “Hey, trust me, death cults are very real. They throw some banging parties, but you never wanna stay too late. There was this one I ran into in Spain, and--well, that’s kind of a long story, but they would’ve been very into you. They were all about the brain eating stuff.” Trailing after her, he scanned the top rows of the shelves. “How about that one,” he said, pointing at an especially thick, black covered book. “Looks like it’s got little skulls on it, that’s gotta be good.” 

“Well a hundred years and change isn’t ancient-ancient,” Morgan admitted, still pleased to have impressed a vampire as old as Harsh. “But brain eating death cults? That’s kinda hot. Scary, but I’m okay with side hustling as a cult maiden. But the not staying too late, is that because after midnight is when they start to get actually all murder-y?” She laughed goodnaturedly at his suggestion about the skulls on the book. “You know, I have started coming around to the idea of skull iconography being a good omen, but this could just as well be about fun curses or potions.” She tried to climb up for it, but her short arms weren’t quite up to the task. She gave Harsh a sheepish look. “Maybe you could, uh--? And then we can start unpacking what we’ve bothered before we start looking again? I think thirty books makes for a solid beginning.”

“The ones I ran into always treated their zombies pretty well. One of them even made this cool throne for them, it was pretty badass. But yeah, usually they start the murdering right after Cinderella turns into a pumpkin. You get extra drinks if you bring someone to add to the murder pile.” Harsh decided to leave out just how many extra drinks he had managed to earn. Morgan was strangely cool with the soulless thing, but adding a couple dozen murders to that might push things a little too far. He snorted. “You don’t want to spider monkey your way up there? Yeah, I’ve got it,” he said. It was a little out of reach, even for him, but getting a leg up on one of the lower shelves was enough to grab it. The book was weirdly heavy. Maybe that meant it was extra full of magic or something. Hopping down from the shelf, he brushed the dust from the cover. “Yeah, seems like a good place to start. Which ones look the most ritual-y?” 

Morgan pouted as she reached for another, closer book. “I want a throne.Can it be made of bones? My girlfriend has a huge thing for bones. We’d look pretty together on a bone throne.” And for ceremonial purposes, maybe with the right amount of discretion and care with, well, offering selection, it might even be a halfway decent time. She smirked at the thought, wondering what kind of coronets death cults might make for their zombies. She laughed at Harsh’s joke and carried their haul to the nearest desk. The books tumbled from her stack and spread themselves over the surface. “Well, here’s the thing: a ritual with full instructions and ingredients is an endgame, a big ol’ golden goose. But, you know, this might start off with something a little more broad, a little more sketchy. We don’t want to turn our nose away from death cults or norwegian summoning stones or...whatever. Because some weird reference might lead us to the golden egg. And the actual golden egg might be buried in some other archive. And then, because we followed the breadcrumbs, we’ll find it in that other archive faster, and...sorry, I’m mixing way too many metaphors, huh? Anyways, I can start on the books on this end of the table, and you can start on the ones on that end? You read fast, yeah?”

“I’m pretty sure making it out of bones is required actually,” Harsh said, with a thoughtful nod. Honestly, it was a little surprising that White Crest didn’t have any death cults, at least as far as he knew. They didn’t tend to be very public. Attention moving to the books, he grabbed a few and pulled them close, scanning the titles. There were some promising ones in there at least. “Right, it would be boring if it was that easy anyway. This kinda thing seems like it needs a lot of bits and pieces before it goes together. The coven said something about ‘proving myself’ so if you see anything like that, just, I don’t know, highlight it or something. I read pretty quick, yeah.” He flicked through the pages of the first book, an older one laden with dust. The cover might have been green at one point. “Don’t think there’s any eggs in this one. It does have a spell for cooking them though. I think this one’s more basic rituals than the big one we’re after. It does have a little thing about summoning, but mostly just bats and rats and stuff. Any luck over there?”

Morgan was running her finger down the index of the volume in front of her, picking out anything that looked remotely undead or soul related and flipping to the corresponding pages. There were a few technical magic terms that stuck out that she wanted to look at as well before she wrote off the reference as a dead end for this volume. She reached for another and started the process all over again. “Not yet, although, you know, lots of fun stuff about necromancy. And vampire cults, although I guess you already know whatever you want to about that stuff.” She balanced the next one precariously on her lap and started flipping back and forth, one section after the other. “This one looks like it has lots of serious lore, though. We’re talking old myths, druidic shit, some stuff I...can’t actually read. Do you know this language?” She passed the book over to Harsh, finger hovering over the photograph of some runes. 

“I guess necromancy is sort of near what we’re looking for,” Harsh said a little dubiously. Honestly, he didn’t know nearly enough about magic to be sure. It seemed to make sense though. They both had to do with souls and restoring them. Or something. “Vampire cults can be kind of cool, but most of them are pretty anti-soul, so I don’t know if they would be super helpful.” He reached for the book, brow furrowing as he scanned the runes. “Sort of. It looks like Sanskrit, just a little off. I wonder if it’s like some ancient dead version.” His fingers trailed over the letters as he muttered to himself, working to muddle through the meaning. “I think it’s talking about a ritual. It’s a lot of sorta spiritual stuff, but… I think some of it sounds pretty legit. Some of the words are kind of weird, but I think it’s saying there are three, uh, three pieces you need to retrieve a soul. And then there’s some words I don’t know, this one just means really, really old. What about the other bits, the druidic stuff?” he asked, passing the book back as he moved closer to read over Morgan’s shoulder. 

“You never know. Maybe understanding more about how you get rid of them could help us understand how to get one to come back.” Morgan said. Harsh couldn’t afford to turn down any possibility, and neither could she, if she wanted to be good for more than just cheerleading. But as Harsh looked over the text and translated, Morgan started to wonder if the search would be so hard after all. “That...that might just be what we’re looking for! Look, this sigil here, means spirit, but it’s sort of a vague all encompassing sort of an idea, it could me soul, intuition, intention, but when you look at these wrapped around it, you get a soul’s last regret. And when you look at its placement in the circle, it's on a material vector, an ingredient. But it’s also in the center, where you do the conjuring for what you want to accomplish. And in that place it’s also joined by this little squiggly? It signifies a joining, of two planes or two pieces, you see it sometimes in certain kinds of alchemy circles and binding magic.” Her face cracked wide into a smile. Harsh, it’s a spell to bind a soul to a body! It’s real!” Morgan shot up from her chair, almost toppling the book to the floor. “Harsh, your cure is real! I mean, I’m going to need to do more work to figure out the other ingredients, and we need to follow up on that Sanskrit, because that might be important, and who even knows how we’re going to even get some of these things once we know what they are, but still!” She jumped on her toes to give him as strong a hug as her arms could manage. “It’s possible. And that’s what matters most right now, right?”

“That’s a good point, actually. I sort of always thought of them as being two really different things, but… I’m not really an expert on any of this. I should’ve done way more research ages ago.” Harsh had thought as much before, several times… and then done basically nothing. He’d had two hundred years to learn this and he had thrown all that time away. Oh well, he was doing it now. That had to count for something. He nodded vaguely as Morgan went on, doing his best to follow along. It was a little beyond him, but the pieces he could parse were encouraging enough to make a grin slowly spread across his face. “Holy shit--Morgan, you’re amazing!” Meeting her halfway, he locked his arms around her with enough force to lift her off the ground, spinning the both of them in a circle. “You figure out what we need and I’ll get it,” he said as he set her down, still grinning widely. “Whatever we need, just leave it to me.” 

[thinger-strang]

Singing in the Shower and Other Sins (aka three times Steve was caught singing and the one time he wasn't)

@gideongrace this is for you 😚

(link to the version on ao3 https://archiveofourown.org/works/21394876 )

i.

Steve sings all the time. Loud and off key in a goofy sort of lovable way. He jams with Dustin on their way to school, dances around Scoops and Family Video when it's slow, uses anything and everything as a mic.

Which made it so weird when Robin walked into work to find Steve singing like, good.

He had his back to her with an armful of tapes. His voice was soft and he was gently bopping (so he didn't drop all the videos). But his voice was so good!

Robin leaned against the wall and just observed Steve for a moment. It was weird, almost wrong, to hear the correct sound notes come from him.

"Having fun there, Springsteen?"

She shouldn't have scared him, she knows that. But his face was so funny when spun around, barely holding onto his stack of tapes.

"Jesus, warn a guy, Buckley!" He snapped, running his free hand through his hair.

"You can sing."

"What?"

"You always sing bad when I'm around, but you can like actually sing! Like sing really good!"

"Oh, no I wasn't singing? That was...that was definitely just the radio, I can't sing for shit, you know that--"

"Nuh uh Harrington, I know your dirty little secret now! You've got pipes!"

Steve rolled his eyes.

"Rob." He started putting stuff away again. "You of all people know I can't sing to save my life."

"I just heard you, don't know why you're denying it."

"Whatever, go get your vest before Keith gets here." Steve nodded towards the break room door but smiled at her knowingly.

"Fucking knew it!" She shouted as she went to put her vest on. "Why are you trying to hide this magnificent gift God herself has bestowed upon you?"

Steve shrugged and handed her half his stack once she got back.

"Don't tell anyone, don't need you messing up what little cred I have left."

She flipped him off.

He stuck his tongue out at her.

Life went on.

ii.

Steve made the mistake of telling Dustin where the spare key to his front door was. Under the ceramic frog in the planter left of the door. But the kid was basically his little brother and he'd shown Steve where his spare key was the week before. So they were even now.

So Dustin let himself and the rest of the party into Steve's house for an impromptu hang out sesh. Mike, Lucas, and Max made a beeline for the kitchen to drop off the arm fulls of snack they had while Dustin showed Will and Jane around.

Jane had started going by "Jane" full time since the Hopper-Byers move and the party was supportive as always. And since their move, the party had had three? maybe four hang outs at Steve's. So a tour was necessary since they missed the preliminary Casa de Harrington party.

"Holy shit do you guys hear that?" Will whispered once they got to the second floor's landing.

The other two stopped and listened. They heard a shower running and a radio going. Nothing special. Dustin strained his ears.

"No way."

"'No way' what?" Lucas asked as he, Max, and Mike joined them.

"That's Steve singing in the shower!"

"What's so bad about him singing in the shower?" Jane asked.

"Steve can't sing to save his life!" Mike said, incredulously.

"He's not that bad guys," Max tried to defend him.

"Okay, I love the guy like a brother but he drives me to school everyday and no, he cannot sing." Dustin explained as they crept closer to the bathroom door.

The shower shut off and his voice became clearer. The party continued bickering until the door swung open. Steam billowed out and Steve sang a line until he noticed the gaggle of teenagers in his hallway.

"What the fuck guys."

"What the fuck yourself Steven!" Mike shot back.

"Yeah, are you serious? For like, almost a year I've had to listen to you screech along to the radio when you've had the voice of an angel this whole time?! That's just plain rude." Dustin crossed his arms dramatically.

"Angelic's a little generous, Henderson."

"Your voice is really pretty," Jane said in awe.

Steve blushed and wrapped his arms around his torso.

"Thanks kid. Hey, how's Missouri treating you guys?" Steve pulled his shirt from the floor and put it on.

"Pretty good, the school has a huge library and Will joined an art club!" Jane said excitedly.

Will nodded along with her, putting his hands into his hoodie.

"Oh that's awesome! Glad you guys like it up there--"

"Can we get back to the whole 'Steve can actually sing' thing? Because that's still blowing my mind," Lucas interjected, flailing his arms a little.

"Yeah, can you sing Whitney? Because those were some pretty high notes if my ears don't decieve me." Max grinned evilly.

"No, I can't sing Whitney, I can barely sing, remember?" Steve sounded like he was talking to toddlers.

"Dude, none of use are deaf, we all heard." Mike gave him an unimpressed look.

"Yeah, and that was Queen and you definitely hit all those high notes. You can totally sing Whitney!" Max laughed and nudged Will when he stifled a giggle.

"I can't believe I'm being mocked by a bunch of 10 year olds!"

"We're fifteen, Harrington," Dustin said sarcastically.

Steve rolled his eyes.

"Okay, can you shits get out of my room so I can get dressed? Don't feel like spending the day in a towel while you make fun of my singing abilities."

He started to herd them towards the stairs as they protested, claiming they weren't making fun, just confused as to why he would torture them with a fake awful voice.

When Steve came downstairs, Max pushed play on the tape player in the living room. "I Wanna Dance With Somebody" started playing and Steve turned red.

"This isn't fucking karaoke night you dweebs!"

But he started laughing when they all started throwing popcorn at him and he proceeded to dump snacks onto everyone else, starting an epic pre-movie night food fight.

iii.

Robin's parents were going to be out of town for the first time in a thousand years so, naturally, she was throwing a party.

It wasn't a typical high school rager, more like a get together between friends and absolutely no children, Steve!

So really it was just Steve, Nancy, Jonathan, Barb, and Billy.

Steve and Billy came over early to help make food. Which translated to Steve making food while Billy sat on the couch and read, using the "I died for you bitches" excuse for the millionth time.

And ever since Robin had caught him singing at work, he became more and more comfortable singing around her. She didn't ask about him singing around Billy. So here he was, singing while mixing something together in a bowl. Like a goddamn housewife.

"If my parents were here they'd be so pleased I found a nice boy who knows what he's doing in the kitchen." She said as she measured some milk out for the brownies.

She could hear Billy snort from the living room over the "knowing what he's doing in the kitchen" comment.

Steve laughed and kicked at her shins.

Wham! came on and Steve's face lit up. And it was the yo-yo song, the best freaking one. And Robin was in band so her inntonation wasn't like awful, she definitely had the lungs for singing.

So they were singing along to George Michael in the Buckley's colorful kitchen while making brownies when the other three showed up.

"You can sing?" Barb asked with big eyes.

"You act like I've never sung in front you you before." Steve replied while hunching over, self conscious.

"Yeah but normally it's more...pitchy," Nancy offered.

"We're not judging your anything man, you've got a great voice," Jonathan filled in quickly. "Didn't really believe Will when he said Steve could sing."

He said that last part mostly to Nancy, but everyone heard it.

And Robin was kind of done. Because Steve told her, one time when they were hotboxing his car, that he sang bad on purpose because his dad thought it was "faggy" to be able sing that well. That he sounded like Freddie and George and Bowie in the worst way. And she knew he was bi, knew he got embarrassed when people started talking about him singing because of what his dad said.

She was about to call them out when Billy flipping Hargrove beat her to it.

"Leave him alone, you're just jealous your pipes aren't as good," Billy said in a monotone voice from the couch.

"It's fine, Billy, they're--"

"No he's right, lay off."

Nancy and Jonathan at least had the decency to look embarrassed. Barb walked into the kitchen to help out.

"Your voice really is good. Didn't mean to sound so shocked before. You were just...really good. And I totally remember you singing into a hairbrush that one time? And your voice cracked all over the place?" Barb bumped her hip into Steve's, wiggling her eyebrow.

"Oh my god, I almost lost my voice from that! God, that was forever ago, cannot believe you remember that."

"Yeah that's what made me realize 'King Steve" was like an actual human boy, not this entity the entire school and Nancy made you out to be."

Billy migrated from the couch to the counter when he heard the words "King Steve" and put his book on the counter top.

"When was this?" And thank god for Billy because Robin wanted to ask so bad what they were talking about.

"Oh Steve threw a little party back in junior year to woo Nancy and he was a little buzzed and was trying to make her laugh by singing along to, what was it?" Barb turned to smirk at Steve.

"ABBA, it's was ABBA."

Billy rolled his eyes and mumbled "of course" as Robin cackled.

"Very on brand, dingus."

"Yeah but he overexaggerated the awfulness and his voice cracked, like, painfully. Like, I felt it, it was so bad!"

Steve scrunched up his nose at the memory and laughed. Robin and Billy started laughing too and Barb continued telling embarrassing stories about Steve that the other two had never heard before.

+i.

Steve jolted awake to a loud clattering sound coming from the other end of his room.

"How many times do I have to tell you to clear off your fucking desk, Harrington," Billy stage whispered angrily.

"How many times do I have to tell you to use the fucking front door, Hargrove."

Steve hopped out of bed to meet Billy by the window. He scanned his face for bruises which made Billy rolls his eyes.

"Can't a guy just visit his boyfriend in the middle of the night without anything being wrong?"

"Yeah but you only sneak in through my window when you've had a bad night, you dramatic fuck." Steve cupped Billy's face with one hand and let him lean into it.

Comfortable silence enveloped them before Billy broke it.

"Couldn't sleep," he mumbled.

"Okay." Steve let Billy drop his head into his shoulder. " Do you wanna talk about it or go to bed?"

Because "couldn't sleep" is generally code for nightmares.

Billy shrugged, shoulder bumping Steve's chin a little, and Steve nodded, tugging him towards the bed.

He helped Billy get down to just his boxers and a tee before getting under the covers. Steve positioned them so that Billy was half laying in Steve with his ear over his heart and their legs tangled. Because Steve liked the pressure and Billy liked listening to the steady thrum of his heartbeat.

They laid like that for a minute, getting comfortable and used to each other's warmth.

And Billy had told him, a long time ago, that his mom used to sing to him when he couldn't sleep. And that was before Billy knew Steve could actually sing. That was what made Steve sing for real in front of him.

So, on nights like this, Steve sang.

He started humming the intro to "Going to California", moving his fingers in time up and down Billy's back. Billy let out a sigh and pressed himself closer into Steve's chest.

So Steve sang into the dark of his bedroom, chasing away monsters; the kind that live in your house and the kind that live underground, until Billy drifted off and pulled Steve with him into a warm and deep sleep that only comes when wrapped around someone you love.

[evilcharming18]

Azula Week Day 3: Friendship

This is a continuation of my Azula Week 2019 Day 4 with a modern high school AU! Here’s the link for that if you liked to read that first! (https://archiveofourown.org/works/19819714/chapters/47017810#workskin) If not, it still makes some sense without it. I hope you enjoy!!

I could get used to this, Azula thought.

Sure, Toph was different from the other friends she’s had. She was loud and aggressive, strong and fierce while messy and unreformed. She was the exact opposite of Azula and the friends Azula had. It took a lot to get used to Toph’s vulgar language and messy eating. And it hurt her to say but Toph loud mouth comments and crude jokes were better than eating lunch alone. And definitely better than enduring Chan’s spitballs.

“Did you even hear what I was saying,” Azula looked up at her friend with a glare.

“Of course I did!” Azula exclaims, feigning Shock at Toph’s accusation.

“Then what did I say?” Toph asks and Azula stares back at her. Silence engulfed the table for a few seconds before Toph’s cackles broke it. “Exactly! I knew you were listening. I may be blind but I can pick up a lot more than you think.” Toph teases and Azula scoffs.

“Fine I wasn’t listening to you,” Azula admits with false irritation, “What were you talking about?” She finally asked after the girl finally stopped laughing.

“Oh no, that can wait Princess. I wanna hear about what has you so distracted,” Toph says and Azula freezes for a moment. She had never been more glad that Toph couldn’t see her because her cheeks instantly flushed. There was no way she was going to tell the girl that she was happy they were friends. It as stupid, she shouldn’t have even been thinking about it. It had only been two month since Toph sat at her table that day.

Since then, Toph was basically the only person Azula spoke to. Willingly of course. They somehow managed to have all of their afternoon classes together, something that shocked Azula as well because the girl didn’t seem to have much of an interest for school or her grades. Still, the pair grew closer as the weeks went on. Being tripped in the hallway by Chan or having another verbal spat with Katara was much easier to deal with when you had someone by your side. Toph took no hesitation when it came to defending her new found friend. Pushing Chan when he tried to insult her or calling Katara sugar queen just to piss her off. All things that Azula could never let her know how much she actually appreciated them. It was enough of a change that Azula we actually thanking the girl, out loud and in public even.

She could already hear her father’s scolding.

Not that it mattered, he would never know. He wasn’t here. Azula huffed before frowning at the thought. Her father had always told her that friends were supposed to be useful. That there should always be something to gain from her partnerships. She believed him, Mai’s parents were partners with her dad, Ty Lee was as charming as she was naive and obedient. They always served a purpose. But that didn’t matter if they didn’t want to be her friends. And she can’t help to think that her father’s arrest was just an easier way for them to stop hanging out with her. She thought that she would be better off without them but she couldn’t help but to miss them.

After countless therapy sessions and months alone, she thought a lot about how things would be different. If she were nicer, if she hadn’t used them the way she did, that she wouldn’t have lost their friendship. That they were more than the purpose they served. It shouldn’t have taken her so long to reload that Mai was often grounded and Ty Lee was always supportive, even when Azula didn’t deserve it. And her father would be calling her stupid for even thinking that way. That they should be sorry for leaving her. But she couldn’t help but feel that he was wrong.

“It’s nothing.” Azula finally spoke up as her train of thought calmed down.

“Nope, we may be new friends but I can tell something is up. You don’t get distracted that easily,” Toph smirks at her and Azula scoffed, desperately trying to play it off.

“Toph I’m fine, just thinking is all,” Azula says with finality and Toph smacks her lips.

“Whatever you say, Princess,”

They went about the rest of the day as usual, working together on their science project and being the first group to finish the assignment in math as always. It brought joy to see Katara’s face beet red with anger as she was second to Azula once again. Typically they would go to Toph’s home after school, Azula lounging by the pool while listening to Toph about whatever new UFC game she started. Azula’s thoughts took over again when it came to her that she would have never cared about what Mai and Ty Lee, at least not this much. She would have shrugged it off and put in some earbuds while she tanned if it meant ignoring Ty Lee’s stories about whatever cute animal she saw that day.

“You’re doing it again,” Toph spoke up and Azula frowned.

“Sorry,” was the only response that Azula could come up with that time.

“Did something happen? You’ve been like this all day and it’s weird,” Azula shook her head.

Sure that’s one way to describe it, she thought.

“No, I've just been thinking a lot today. It’s nothing, really,” she tells her and Toph’s stare doesn’t waver. Even without her sight, it was like the girl could still see into her soul.

“Thanks for being my friend...I know I can be a lot sometimes,” Azula finally blurts out and Toph smiles grins.

“That’s it!! That’s what had you so tense earlier!” Toph exclaims and Azula could feel the heat from earlier rising back in her cheeks. “Don’t mention it Princess, we all can be a lot sometimes,” Toph replies before running off to jump in the pool. The girl had no clue how hard it had been for Azula to think that let alone say and she definitely had no clue how much that meant to her. Azula watched as her friend swam around the pool, splashing aimlessly, hoping to catch her in the crossfire. A small smile appeared on her face as she watched.

Azula was finally realizing that whatever her father had taught her about friendship was wrong. That friends were more than simply what they could do for her but what they could do for each other. She might have messed that up before with Mai and Ty Lee but she refused to mess it up now with Toph.

@azulaweek

[robobiitch-archive]

Mobile Rules;;

Mun Info

name: Moe Loogham

age: 21

birthday: September 25th

pronouns: She/Her

faceclaim: Deadpool, Death from AMOLAD, Rose Quartz from Steven Universe, Loki from MCU

rp experience: 8+ Years

discord: Available to Mutuals on Request!

HELLO!

I'm Moe! It's great to meet you. After taking a very long break from the tumblr rpc, I've decided to dive back in, because why the hell not. I'm a freshly graduated college kid who's trying to find her place in this world lmao.

I'm from New York, I have two beautiful guinea pigs named Sage and Rosemary and I'm a witch, that's just about everything you gotta know. In terms of RPing, I've had several muses over the years, from a few different fandoms, and Connor's brand new but I've had a lot of fun experimenting with him among friends and I wanna let him run free out here in the dumpster fire that is tumblr dot com. College has been a big part of why I drifted away from tumblr RPC, just because of time constraint, but I'm excited to be back!

My Rules have been broken up into sections. I will try to keep each section as brief as possible while still informing you of everything you need to know about how I like to run things.

Blog Etiquette + Following

This blog is PRIVATE, SELECTIVE, and MUTUAL'S ONLY and 18+.

I do not follow for a follow, and I do not follow back unless I am interested in threadding with you. If I follow your blog, it means I have read your rules and bio at the very least! I do not send in passwords, but if you have a post that you would like to direct followers to when they've read your rules, I will like it.

If we are not mutuals, you are still free to interact through asks and ask memes. i reserve the right to delete/ignore asks from mutuals and non-mutuals alike! this is mostly out of precaution, and would only be done in cases that violate privacy or cause discomfort.

I will only thread with other Roleplay/Ask blogs. Sideblogs are fine, but if your main blog is a personal, please let me know and tell me your sideblog url! If you RP off of your personal, I will not follow/thread with you. This is mainly to keep my dash organized. That being said, I will not unfollow someone just because they post OOC a lot. I know I have a tendency to do the same sometimes.

But I am not okay with personals reblogging my threads. Feel free to like them, but reblogging anything that isn't a drabble or anything with my "do not reblog" tag, it will result in a soft block. Repeated offenses will result in your blog being blocked. Reblogs make it difficult to keep track of post history.

Once again, in case it wasn't clear: I do not rp with muses via personal blogs. Things can get hectic very quickly with keeping track of threads. If you have a muse, please create a side-blog for them at the very least.

Just as a general note, I am a relatively busy person and so sometimes I will have periods of low activity. I try to be active at the VERY LEAST once a week, and sometimes I'll be able to crank out like 10 replies in one day. But real life always comes first, for me AND any of my rp partners. RPing is a hobby for me, and I don't let it stress me out. Of course, if it's been a week or two since I've replied, there's a very good chance that I've just forgotten to respond. If that happens, do not be afraid to poke me about it.

If I ever want to drop a thread, I'll let you know, and I'll very much appreciate if you do the same, but it's absolutely not required. I don't mind at all, if anything I'll usually ASK if you want to drop it and if you do, that's completely fine. The other option I have for threading is ARCHIVING, for when we have a thread that we want to put down for now, but maybe pick up again later. If you'd rather Archive a thread instead of drop it, just tell me. :)

Also!

All Icons on this blog are made/screenshotted by me or RK800ISALIVE, and my post banners were made by DENICDLIFE Please do not take them or use them!!

Shipping + Exclusivity

this entire section is very important. please read it carefully, and feel free to ask me if you don't understand something.

This isn't my first rodeo. I love shipping. I am perfectly open to shipping. HOWEVER, that is not the sole purpose of this blog. Regardless of canon, fanon, personal preference or otherwise, unless we have spoken previously about it, Connor will not be automatically shipped with your muse. This blog is OCxCanon friendly, and canon ships are fine too. But for ANY case, I ship chemistry If your muse doesn't click with mine, that's totally fine. But please don't try to force a ship on me, and do not follow me if shipping is the only thing you're looking for out of our threads.

On that note: Original Characters. They're great, I love hearing about them and seeing their depth and complexity. But if your OC has little to no history, or if their sole purpose is to flirt with Connor, please do not ask to interact. I've had too many experiences in the past with OCs whose existence is based around wanting to bang my muse and it really grates on me. It's nothing personal, I know writing only gets better with practice, but if you come to me asking to be a detective who works with Connor and that's all the information you have, I really ask that you go find another Connor to interact with.

I will only ship with your muse after discussing it out of character. IC flirting is the only exception to this, but do not get angry if Connor does not respond the way you want him to.

I don't want to have to put that there, but it's happened to me too many times before and it's an uncomfortable situation for everyone involved. Please don't do it.

This blog is NOT Exclusive, but I do practice Maining with other muses. What that means is if we have previously discussed it, and have had enough interaction, my muse will refer to yours in conversation or in terms of relationship depending on circumstance. Once I have created mains, they will be posted in the Navigation tab. Occasionally I may post a mains call, which invites anyone interested to discuss becoming a main with Connor.

TRIGGERS + NSFW

I am 20+ years old, and NSFW can and will happen on this blog, however I will always keep anything that contains NSFW under a "read more" cut for the sake of any followers who are not comfortable with seeing NSFW content.

I am comfortable with most NSFW topics. I absolutely WILL NOT write about pedophilia or incest, and definitely WILL NOT rp sexual situations with minors or people who I have not shared consent with. This is for my safety as well as those who I interact with. I'm trying to get into grad school, not jail.

I will try to tag triggers accordingly as they appear. Triggering content that MAY appear on this blog include:

Abuse

Child/Character Death

Disease

Drugs/Drug Use

Alcohol

Execution/Murder

Gore

Nudity

Self-Harm

Suicide/Mental Health Issues

Verbal/Physical Violence

Torture

Important: mun and muse are mutually exclusive. I am not Connor. Connor is not me. Actions performed in threads do not reflect me or my personal beliefs, unless otherwise explicitly stated by me.

If you've made it this far, I would really appreciate if you could like this post to let me know you've read and understand all my rules. If you are not comfortable doing so, that's fine! It's really just to help me know people cared enough to go through the whole list. :) It's not at all an obligation, but it would be really awesome.

Despite the fact I am comfortable with NSFW, I prefer to be comfortable with the other mun as a person before agreeing to write these topics with you. I am not obligated to write NSFW with anyone.

[erikaf-94]

Everything’s Dark

When I open my eyes, everything's dark. I try to turn to one side, but for some reason my right leg hits a hard surface. I release a groan of pain, and I realize immediately that I’m not lying on a mattress, my back is supported on a sort of rigid table. Therefore, I'm not in my bed. I instinctively bring my hands forward, finding out that the space around me is surrounded by close walls. I start to move, touching everywhere, grasping second after second to be confined from every possible angle. The material under my fingers is irregular, fibrous. It must definitely be wood. «This can’t be real», I say aloud, fearing what I'm starting to believe. I force myself to remember everything I can of the past few hours. I had been with Nick, my new boyfriend for five months now, and we were drinking at the local club. It was roughly a quarter to eleven. Maybe almost eleven. I can't say for sure. We were talking about this and that, about our working day, and how nice it would be to organize a holiday in London for August. We were having fun, even though at some point I started to feel a little sick. From then on I don't remember anything. Only a vague sense of nausea lingers to torture my stomach. I must have had too much to drink, and fallen asleep. So where the hell am I now? To my great relief, I still wear the evening's clothes, a fancy black tank top and a pair of light jeans. On my feet I can feel my boots. Maybe it hasn't been long since I've been here, wherever here is. I decide to put my hand in my jeans pocket, where I usually keep the phone. Fortunately, that's where I find it. As soon as I unlock the screen, I instantly check out the time: it’s midnight sharp. After that, I take a look around, glowing everything with a soft, blue light. What I see is the worst nightmare of my life: I'm locked up in a fucking coffin. An old wooden coffin. My heart starts to accelerate, and with each beat the breath gets shorter. I drop the phone near my head and start screaming at the top of my lungs «HEEEEEELP!» My fists beat against the light wooden lid above me. «HEEELOOO? CAN ANYBODY HEAR ME? SOMEONE HELP ME, PLEEEASE! NIIIIICK! NIIICK, DO YOU HEAR ME? HEEEELP!» Even my feet start to kick violently against the immovable wood. I stop for a moment and stretch my ear against the surface. I don't hear any sound. No one answers. It's all useless. There is no one who can hear me. Warm tears run slowly down my cheeks, while my chest twists in despair. How is this possible? How on earth is this possible? I'm screwed. I gasp for the already little air that is in here. And now what should I do? What the hell am I supposed to do? There must be something I can do, besides tearing my vocal cords and scraping my hands. So I remember the phone. I pick it up and carry it in front of my face. Rapidly I unlock it and try to illuminate the bottom of the coffin, where I glimpse my bag in the corner with surprise. It seems to have been thrown away without regard, because it’s upside down. I want to take it, cause maybe I can find a clue inside, or anything else that allows me to remember some useful detail. I drag myself with my legs towards my goal, and I succed to grab it with my feet, so I push it higher, close to my thigh. I place it on my chest and take a look inside by lifting my head: there are my house and car keys, a notepad with a small pen, two protein bars, paper handkerchiefs, a mirror and a couple of cents tucked into a pocket. Not a shadow of the wallet. «What the fuck...» I murmur, sinking into total confusion. Who could have taken my wallet? Have I and Nick been robbed? What if the robber thought of locking us up in two separate coffins, maybe to get more money with a ransom, or something? What if Nick’s situation was worst than mine? If he was hurt, or even... No, I don't wanna think about it a minute longer. The phone lighting goes out. I unlock it again and check the battery level: six percent. «It ain’t real, it ain’t real, it ain’t real... It's just a bad dream, just a fucking bad dream.» I press with my thumb the address book, and without further thinking I choose Nick’s number. I have to wait a long time before an answer. «Nick? Nick, are you okay?» I blurt out without giving him time to say a word. «Nadia?» His voice is practically flat, although I notice a hint of disbelief. «Yeah, it’s me! Where are you, Nick? Are you okay?» «Oh, I'm doing great. Aren’t you supposed to be dead already?» A shot in the chest, that's how his words feel like. I can't come to terms with what I’ve just heard. «Was it... was it you who put me here?» "Who else, you filthy bitch? Jesus fucking Christ? You had no friends or relatives who cared about you. In your stupid meaningless life you only had me. What a pathetic waste of space.» Its tone, warm and welcoming until a few hours ago, now it gives me goosebumps. I realize that he has just used the past tense to speak to me. I start to cry, like I've never cried in my whole life. «Why did you do this to me? I thought we were in love!» I say between sobs, feeling extremely nauseous.  «Well, you just need to know that I never loved you. And now, sweet dreams, baby. For good.» He hangs up on me. «NO, FUUUUCK!» I scream, hitting the lid once more and sticking a splinter in one of my knuckle. A trickle of blood slides down the back of the hand, so I bite my lower lip in pain and hold my breath, trying to remove the splinter from my flesh carefully. Then I grab a handkerchief from the bag, and press on it for a few moments. I cannot understand. Why would Nick do this to me? I've always been good with him. I don't deserve to die this way. I don't deserve any of this! And yet, instantly, I realize that I actually got screwed from the start. Nick never took me to his house. Nor did he tell me too much about his parents, or his friends and acquaintances. In fact, he never introduced me to anyone who was part of his life. Maybe he even lied to me about his job. He is right, my life has been insignificant for a very long time.  When we met, I believed that he was the meaning of my existence. Loving him was my life purpose. What a fool I was! Maybe this is the perfect ending that a person like me deserves. I’m gonna die exactly as I lived: alone, helpless and far from the world. Suddenly the phone vibrates and distracts me from my depressing thoughts. The caller is unknown. «Hello?» I say, wondering who might call me this late.  «Hi, is Nadia Putman speaking?» «Yes, it’s me. Who is it?» «I’m Natalie Holland, a secretary of the local police station. Ten minutes ago a woman brought us a lost wallet, which happens to be yours. Have you noticed a missing wallet on your bag, miss?» «Yes, I have. My boyfriend, or should I say ex-boyfriend, stole it from me and decided to put me in a coffin.» «I’m sorry, miss, what have you just said? He put you in where?» «In a fucking coffin, goddammit! Could you help me, please?» «Oh, okay, sorry to hear that. I’ll put you through with the deparment chief, Oliver Finch. Hold on a minute, please.» «I don’t have a min» I try to say, but she’s already gone. Seconds pass by, while I’m waiting on the line. I check the battery: three percent. Panic is making my heart race a little faster. I don’t wanna be delusional, but as they say, hope dies last.  «Oliver Finch speaking. Miss Putnam, are you still there?» «Hi... yes, I’m here.» «Good. I was informed of your current situation, miss, and I want you to know that we’re going to make everything in our capacity to get you out of there, but first I need you to answer a few questions for me.» «I’m running out of time, sir! My battery is three percent, and I’m very claustrophobic. I don’t know how much air remains in here. I don’t even know where I am.» «Please, I need you to calm down. Take some deep breath, okay? We’re already trying to track down your phone’s signal. Now, to facilitate our job, you have to tell me what is the last thing you remember before finding yourself in there.» «I was at a club near the city, it’s called “The Joint”. I was there with my ex-boyfriend, Nick Allen, around eleven o’clock. We were drinking, I think he put something inside my glass, because I felt dizzy. Then, nothing more. Now I’m not even sure Nick is his real name.» «Okay, miss, you’re doing fine. We’ve just found a Nick Allen on our archives. He’s been in jail several times for theft, rape and attemped murder. He’s real name is George Frederick Clark.» «Fucking George, or Nick, or whatever! That piece of shit has just ruined my life. I can’t believe he fooled me that way. I was so stupid... so stupid!» I keep on sobbing, and I don’t care to wipe the water away from my face with my hands. «Nadia, I need you to focus. Do you know where he lives? It could be crucial for...» The phone is dead. I scream in frustration with all my strenght one last time. It was all in vain. Great. Perfect. I let out a sigh of resignation. Tears run copiously down my face, as I realise that this is over. That’s it. I’m gonna die here, unless the police has localized my GPS by some miracle. At least I’ve tried. At least I’ve lived more than certain people. Now, the only thing I can do is to wait. I’m not sure what for, the police or death. Either way, it’s okay. I’m gonna be okay. I’m okay. Then, I close my eyes, and everything’s dark.

[brightlotusmoon]

Ohh. Physical therapy was intense, I worked my ass off. And my core. Lots of balance exercises. Dead Bug and Breathing Cat, which as it turns out are amazing for ADHD concentration. Two sets of ten: Lying on my back knees up but not too much , arms up straight. And on my hands and knees, knees and hips aligned, breathing through the stomach, just breathing. My thoughts swirled all over the place and just kept centering on keeping my breaths even and my abs tight. I was able to imagine an entire fiction scene while concentrating on my core. Even when the PT gently nudged my limbs during Dead Bug to check muscle strength.

I like this way more than yoga, which is probably the same family of exercises with different names and purposes but tends to make my mind wander.

No wonder Michelangelo gets bored with traditional meditation. I need to write a ficlet where he does an ADHD style meditation. Wait, I did. I really should write more details, though...

***

Automatically, Leo shuts his eyes, waits for the warmth and glow of meditation to start pulling him toward the astral plane. Something itches against his personal space field. Someone is humming. Leo cannot help but twitch.

Why is Mikey humming?

"Mikey," he hisses, "meditation is supposed to be quiet!"

A pause.

"Leo!" Mikey hisses back, a smile in his voice, "no it isn't!"

He opens his eyes and frowns.

His littlest brother is inches from his face now, crouched casually, huge eyes wide and sparkling. He is grinning.

"There's this thing, Leo," he says lightly, and pokes Leo's nose. "See, there's this thing about every person doing something to the best of their own ability, no one way, no right way, no wrong way. Meditation is a thing like that."

Frowning harder, Leo huffs and leans his head away. "See, this is why you never reach the astral plane when we meditate together. I hear you fall asleep all the time."

"That's because it's boring. I can't help it. I put on a show because I have to." Mikey's head tilts, like a bird's. "When I'm alone, I don't have to play a part. That's the best part of being alone."

Leo blinks. What part? Mikey's acting is always hammy. He huffs again and murmurs, "Just get back to meditating."

"You asked me to help you learn how I know stuff, bro. I can't do it like that."

Leo opens his mouth, then snaps it shut. Mikey has had attention problems his entire life, and now with access to the internet they know it's ADHD and learning disabilities. He cannot criticize a disability. But he can criticize a follow-through on a project. "Mikey, you must learn to rein in all your energy and extroversion, use it to concentrate and focus on the task at hand. In meditation, you-"

"Focus on breathing, focus on reaching a higher plane of thought, yada yada yada," and Mikey hold up a hand and pretends it is a puppet mouth. "I can do that, Leo, seriously, I can. Just…I can't do it your way. And you need to realize that. You can't force it. You need to go with the flow."

"My flow is perfectly fine-tuned and balanced and on a steady path," Leo replies, eyes narrowed. "Yours goes all over the place, like your fighting style. While that is great in battle to disorient the opponent, in traditional medita-"

"Shit, Leo, are your ears working? I. Can't. Do. It. Like. You. And you dragged me in here to ask me specifically about how I have this…this psychic intuition thingy, and you want me to demonstrate, and you keep demanding I do it on your safety net, with your rules, and god damn, Leo get your head out of your ass. I know firsthand that it can stretch a lot, but yours has gotta be pretty loose to fit that whole thick head inside. And here we all thought your ass was too tight. Did you bump up against that stick while you were in there?"

Leo freezes, mouth open, eyes huge. Not only did Mike mock and throw shade, he just made a crude joke referencing his horrific rape trauma. While poking holes all over Leo's ego and puffed up pride.

"Uhhh…"

"Yeah, kinda feels painful when you fall so far from your high horse, doesn't it?" Mikey smirks and shrugs, rolling his neck and shoulders. When he meets Leo's eyes, there is a flicker of fire, a snap of ice.

He's been hanging around Raph too much.

Or maybe this is just how Mikey is now, matured and forced to grow up after rising from the ashes of unspeakable horrors.

Leo swallows a lump in his throat. His sweet, kind, naïve, innocent baby brother, the precious child of sunshine whom he must protect at all costs. Who has been viciously attacked, excruciatingly injured, brought to the edge of death, emotionally tormented, and violated sickeningly. Guilt and heavy dark responsibility settles on Leo's shoulders and digs in bloody claws.

Mikey is frowning, very quiet. He looks just above Leo's head, squinting, and then he lets out a soft growl.

"It's dark," he pouts. "Shouldn't be so dark. You know better, Leo."

Leo pats the top of his head. "I don't understand. What do you see?"

"The color, Leo. Your colors. They're all over you. Some of them are dark on you right now. You're doing that guilt thing again, aren't you."

He hangs his head, breathes deeply. "Mikey, I'm your older brother and your leader. I have a job and a duty to-"

"I can take care of myself. Don and Raph, too. You can't fight all our battles for us. That's your problem here. You made your colors too dark because you don't wanna look at yourself. Turn all that around. It might take a while. Then we can start doing it my way"

Leo's brow knits as he rolls Mikey's odd word placement around in his head. He doesn't know how long he sits there in contemplation, but when he looks up, Mikey is gone. The television volume is louder, and Mikey's laughter is heard over it. Leonardo bites the inside of his cheek and feels as though he's done everything wrong.

***

[incorrectdeceptionquotes]

A Bundle of Secrets Chapter 24

Chapter 24

A few days later...

“Berossi! You have a visitor.” A guard called.

Cornelia Berossi, formerly known as the mystery woman made her way over to the telephone station, wondering who would be visiting her, she had no family and her team had abandoned her. She was surprised to see Jonathan waiting for her by the phone. She sat down behind the glass and picked up the phone. “Hello Cornelia. That’s a lovely colour on you.” He smirked.

Cornelia rolled her pale blue eyes, “What do you want Jonathan?”

“Well, I have always wanted to see what it’s like being on the other side of this place.” His smirk turned to a frown, “And I came to say goodbye.”

“Goodbye?”

“You see, you were such an obsession for my life at one point that, it didn’t seem right to leave without a proper happy ending.”

Cornelia scoffed, “Happy ending?”

Jonathan raised an eyebrow and smirked, “Of course, this is me and my family’s happy ending. I’m done with you. You, behind bars with no legs left to stand on and... the odds of you getting out... are near impossible. Even if you did, you’d have a real tough time readjusting to society.”

She raised an eyebrow, “How are you so sure?”

“Oh, because you see,” He held up a newspaper with not only a picture of him and Cam having been reunited but a very clear picture of Cornelia’s mug shot in the corner, “The whole world knows who you are now.” Cornelia’s eyes widened as she looked at the newspaper, “There’s no more hiding for you. Time to face the spotlight.”

“Why did you do this?” She whispered as her nostrils flared.

“Oh, I didn’t do anything” Jonathan said putting the paper down, “I mean, with one of the Blancs having been taken to jail for murder of a civilian, the kidnapping and attempted murder of an FBI agent and that’s just naming a few, the article practically wrote itself.”

Cornelia sighed, “I wish you understood.”

“If you wanna be mad at someone, be mad at yourself.” The former mystery woman gave Jonathan a confused look and Johnny could help but... feel sorry for her, her life wasn’t easy and she clearly had problems that went beyond her hatred of his father but she had made her choices, “Look, you’re smart. Probably one of the smartest people I’ve ever met but you made one fatal mistake. You messed with my family. Now you have to answer for everything you’ve ever done.”

“You don’t understand, my mother made me who I am, I had to do things that no child should have to do.”

“So did I, so did Cam, so did a lot of other people in this world but they don’t all turn into psychopath killers who toy with people’s emotions and purposely ruin lives in the name of the greater good. Along the way, you start making your own choices.”

“People like our parents treated us like they could bend us to their will and never let us choose who we wanted to be.” She took a deep breath, “And when I finally found you again, I realized that it was our turn to win.”

“But you became a villain.” He chuckled grimly, “Because that’s what people like you do, your happiness has to come at the expense of others and that’s why you could never be happy.”

“But we understood each other.”

“You don’t know me. You never did. You thought you did but you didn’t. You didn’t know it was me you were looking for.” Jonathan stated bluntly, “You had thought you were looking for Cameron, that’s why you framed me for murder.”

“Jonathan-”

“But you know what, I’m glad it was me because if you had done that to Cam... let’s just say that it’s a good thing I knew Kay would get him out soon enough after what I did.”

“But you still left him there. You left your brother in your place, how does that make you any better than me?”

“Well, I can of one thing that makes me... at the very least, one percent better than you.” He leaned in to the window, “I. Am. Not. A. Killer.” Her expression didn’t change but Jonathan could see the anger build in her eyes, “Don’t get me wrong. I know what it feels like to be tempted to be the bad guy especially when it seems like that’s who the whole world wants you to be but... it isn’t something to strive for...” He raised an eyebrow, “It’s something to pity.”

Cornelia scoffed, “You pity me?”

“Yes. I pity you.” He gave her a genuine sympathetic look, “Because you don’t have anyone waiting for you to come home.” His light demeanor vanished. Jonathan’s eyes went dark and his nostrils flared, “But you deserve to be here.” He had to tell her why he truly hated her now, “You... are the reason I never got to see my little sister again. You are the reason she and her husband are dead. You are the reason my baby niece has to grow up without her parents who loved her so damn much!” He spat, “And the only reason, I haven’t done anything to you is because I need to be there for her now. I want to be there for her... and you’re not going to stop me. You took over a year of my life away from me but unlike you... I have something to live for now.” Cornelia didn’t say anything. Jonathan sighed, “Well, I said all I came to say.”

“Where are you going?” She asked softly, almost uncharacteristically as she looked at him again.

“My brother and I have a funeral to plan.” He gave her one last look. For a moment, he didn’t see the beautiful psychopath who ruined his life, he saw the innocent young girl who he met in Reykjavik, he shook his head slightly, she wasn’t that girl he had been friends with back then... not anymore. She made her choices and this is where those choices brought her and she had no one to blame but herself, “Goodbye Cornelia. I do hope... you can understand what you’ve done and maybe... you can redeem yourself.” It was foolish to think she could but he knew taking away someone’s hope was just cruel. He put the phone back in its holder, got up and left.

“Goodbye Jonathan...” Cornelia whispered into her own phone knowing that he was no longer on the line to hear her. She was alone... and she could only blame herself.

When he got back to the archive, he saw everyone combing through Fiona and Shawn’s personal belongings, trying to just organize it all. Cameron was the first to notice his brother’s return, “Hey,” He greeted, “How’d it go?”

Jonathan shook his head, “It was not what I expected...” Jonathan smiled, “But it... it really is over. We can actually move on.” He walked over to his brother and gave him a hug, “She’s out of our lives.”

Cameron hugged his brother tightly, “Welcome home.”

They pulled away from their hug, “Where’s Farrah?”

“Little girly’s helping Jordan with his music.” Gunter said with a smirk as he walked by, going out the door to get some takeout for dinner, “If I’m not back in an hour, it mean that they’ve screwed up our order and I’ve had to teach a lesson.”

Jonathan called out, “Jordan-”

“This is a Disney playlist I’m making for her Johnny, no swearing to be found here!” Jordan called from the other room. Jordan rolled his eyes, “Uncle Johnny’s being kind of the buzzkill now huh?” Farrah giggled as she kicked her legs to the music.

“I heard that Jordan!” Jonathan called back, “The kid learns any curse words before she’s ten, I’m blaming you!”

Kay walked into the room from the kitchen holding an apple in her left hand, it still in the sling, “So I finally found something that wasn’t pudding, candy, coffee or expired.” She looked up and saw Jonathan, she smiled, “Hey, how’d it go?”

Johnny shrugged but smiled, “It’s over. I can actually move on with my life... I can actually have a life.” He headed for the kitchen, “Now what’s this I hear about pudding? Do we have vanilla?”

“I saw chocolate pudding.”

“Even better.”

Kay walked over to Cameron, “Hey, you okay?”

“Yeah, it’s just a little overwhelming. You know if you had told me two weeks ago that all thing would happen... I genuinely would have said that it was impossible.”

“Cameron Black thinking something is impossible?” Kay joked. She noticed how he was just kind of combing through the things, almost as if he didn’t want to finish cleaning it up, “Need some help?”

“Uh, no, it’s fine, besides, your arm-”

“I still have the other one.” She said as she started to organize the books on the table.

Jonathan walked back in with a pudding cup in hand, “How’s the organizing going?”

“Pretty good. We’ve managed to sort out most of the photos and Dina’s gone to get plastic covers for them.” Cameron said.

“What’s with all the notebooks?” Johnny asked motioning to the pile of books that Kay was looking through.

“Sketchbooks, actually. They’re all Fiona’s. She was good...” Her hand fell to a black sketchbook with a silver spiral binding. Something about it seemed familiar so she opened it; she smiled as she flipped through the pages, seeing drawings of fairies, royalty and knights in shining armor, “She seemed to love fairytales.”

Jonathan had put the empty plastic cup aside and started looking through the books, “Here’s a page of where she was just writing down baby names. Man, she had a ton of names in mind for Farrah. Soraya, Regina, Ella, and Alice which is just naming a few... but it’s clear she liked the name Farrah the best.” Kay smiled as she continued flipping through the sketchbook until she flipped a page and pressed between the last page and the current one were two unmarked envelopes. Kay’s eyes widened as it finally clicked in her mind as to why the sketchbook seemed familiar.

Cameron smirked, “How are you so sure?”

Johnny flipped the book around for Cameron and Kay, who wasn’t paying attention, to see, “Well, given the fact that the name is underlined three times, circled twice in red and got little gold stars and pink hearts drawn around it, that’s kind of what tipped me off.”

Cameron chuckled, “Well, the name Farrah does suit her.”

Just then, Kay’s grip the apple she was holding loosened unconsciously and it fell to the floor when she opened up one of the envelopes and saw the words, To Cameron Black written inside the flap. Cameron and Jonathan both turned their heads to Kay who looked shell-shocked, Cameron gave her a concerned look as he picked the apple off the floor, “Kay? What’s wrong?” She didn’t respond for a moment and Cameron gently placed hand on her left shoulder, snapping her out of it, “Kay? Are you okay?”

She looked at Cameron with a look of disbelief in her eyes, “C-Cameron... did I... how long did I flat line when I was in the hospital?”

“You didn’t tell her?” Jonathan asked.

“I-I genuinely forgot to.” Cameron replied, “Just for a few minutes according to the doctor. Kay, why do you ask?”

“These... these letters...” She took a deep breath, still not believing it herself, “Fiona wrote these letters for the both of you but... she was too scared to send them...”

Jonathan furrowed his brows, “Wait, how do you know that?”

Kay let out a breathy chuckle, the look of disbelief still on her face, “She told me.”

...So Kay finally remembers what happened when she was unconscious! The mystery woman or... Cornelia is locked away and the Deception family can finally move on with their lives... or can they? I’m sorry I keep doing that, I’ll stop... eventually. :D

Hope you guys enjoyed this chapter, I actually enjoyed writing it more than I thought I would!

[kaaramel]

okay i’m going to attempt to put down thoughts about ds gem au in a semi-organized fashion:

characters i haven’t drawn yet but have rough ideas for (and let me preface this by saying i’m sticking as close as possible to like, Canon, Extant Gems, cause i’m boring and cautious)

wigfrid and wolfgang are each some variety of quartz, i would assume

walani’s an earth-prime-kindergarten amethyst with absolutely no work ethic.

warly has me stumped because Gems Don’t Eat. i guess she’s a .. chemist..?

fuck me, i just remembered that lapis lazulis Exist. maybe the shipwreckt squad is all lapises, just with wildly different personalities (and occasional corruption) ? ?? ?

i keep going back and forth on how i wanna treat WX but the idea i like the most right now/the most overwrought and complex idea is that they’re something an enterprising and inventive human put together using scraps of salvaged pre-war gem tech

i’m also kind of dithering on wickerbottom but i think i just wanna say she’s a zircon and that (at least in this variant universe cause this is My City) zircon duties also include, like, data archival and organization, as well as the Courtroom Stuff

i kind of fuckd myself with winona because i dont know how she can be in any way equivalent to charlie’s sister unless she’s also carrying out a fresh n funky half-human existence and possibly with the Same Human Dad, which is pretty implausible but i sure would like to meet the dude who not one but two giant alien women, uh, there’s no graceful and polite way to finish this sentence, my point is idk what to do with that

max is maybe an agate or probably something higher-ranking but my point is she’s running the show in charlie/black diamond’s absence and trying to keep.. like, Everything about her scenario under wraps

she has orchestrated how every other character individually got assigned to irregular suspicious missions in this backwater quadrant of space and their ships/warps/other transportation have been sabotaged behind them. they’ve all ended up stranded on a supposedly destroyed planet Earth. to what purpose? why were they chosen? Nobody Is Sure, Least Of All Me

this only just now occurred to me but maybe the Cluster and the fusion experiments leading up to it have taken a more subtle and insidious form, here, instead of just being a big unsubtle planet-smashing geoweapon. the sort of thing that would psychically invade dreams and cause weak, uncertain minds to hallucinate shadows, and feed on negative emotions. hmmmm

wes: who is she. what kind of gem is she even. does anyone even know what kindergarten she came from? she isnt saying anything. her gem is over where her mouth would be and i don’t think she can speak. she has invisible psychokinetic barriers and explosive spheres of force at her command and she has no mercy. fear her

also, here is a gem winona for the road. thanks for stickin through that huge post

[imagine-lcorp]

Patient Zero (Full Text)

A/N: Hi guys, like I said here is the full text of this story. This one started as a one shot for halloween week, my little attempt at the zombie trope as you can see. I wanna thank the dear Anon that came into the ask box to request a second part and who shared ideas to continue the story. Kudos to you!! This is the final result and I hope you guys liked it. I know it’s not the final everyone expected but idk i felt this had to end like this...questions, complaints, complitents, whatever, you can hit it guys! and please let me know what you think about it. :) It was a pleasure to write this for you.

Lena Luthor x  Zombie!Reader//Word Count: 5,612

00:00. Play.

00:02. Hello, Lena...[Sigh]

Your face was the first thing Lena saw after clicking on the video file in her mail. It had been a long time since you two had seen each other. You had been close since boarding school and, even after you left to med school, you kept working together in small projects. She remembered that time when you had tried your own research project to cure cancer at Jack's garage. She admitted she always had a thing for you but then she had met Jack. So you remained good friends. Then you lost contact after she moved to National City to run L-Corp. She tried to run a company and you tried to become the next nobel laureate. You didn't talk as much as you used to but she always remembered you with a soft smile.

00:05. If you are watching this, it means two things. One, that I managed to sent this video with top secret information to you, and two, that I... that something has gone terribly wrong in my lab.

At first, she didn't believe it. It was just not possible. Only when she read the files, things started to make some sense. After she finished reading those documents for the fifth time, the true horror of the situation shocked her. She needed a moment to think and she started to pace around her office. It was a lot to process and a lot more to do. If she was going to help, she also needed help.

00:23. For the past two years I've been working on a project to undermine the growth of cell populations and genetic material in different organisms. The research's purpose was to develop a treatment for people with cell growth disorders. Even a cure if possible[Pause]Six months ago we finally tested a serum. Forty people participated in the clinical trials. The results were particularly significant and optimistic. No serious side effects were reported...[Heavy sight] Until two months ago.

"Shouldn't we be talking with someone in the World Health Organization?" Kara questioned. For her, it looked more like some kind of conspiracy theory. "I mean, this seems strange."

"And what if they try to cover it?" Lena tried to convince her. "These companies are even worst when it comes to cover their mistakes. (Y/N) sent me this video because it was the only way to ensure someone else knew about this." She was truly worried about the situation, even more about you. "If Supergirl goes to check the activity in the labs at least we would know if there's something to worry about."

Kara sighted. "Ok, I will contact her but, in the meantime, let's try to find out what else is happening."

00:57.  When we ran the test again[Pause]We discovered the pathogen had evolved, unlike anything we had seen. In the time it took to run the tests, there was a complete reversion on the serum's effects... The company has practically done nothing at this point, we're in lock down, alone, and they will try to erase the whole thing, for sure. [Rising voice] Heck, they will let us die in here...

Once Supergirl finished scanning the area, she flew directly to L-Corp to inform Lena about her findings. She didn't wanted to believe it but you had told the truth. If they did nothing, there was a chance the situation could worsen.

"The upper levels are mostly offices but they were empty, there was nothing in the building. It's almost as if they vanished."

"Did you find the laboratories?" Lena asked concerned.

"They are seven levels underground." Supergirl's voice was cautious. "Only the sixth level seems to still be active."

"Could you see what was in there?" The uncertainty was killing her.

"You need to start working on those formulas." Supergirl's face was grim.

01:25. The serum, it's transforming them... I-It doesn't seem like they are human anymore... We tried to contain them as best as we could but now we are the ones trapped in here. We've been trying to work on an antidote but I don't think I will be able to finish it...

Lena had been looking at the monitors in the DEO with the information regarding patient zero. A subject test that had been diagnosed with carcinoid cancer just before you started the clinical trials. This person had been the first one to present anomalies and was used as the basis to develop the antidote. Alex had worked along side Lena for three days straight until she was sure the antidote would work.

"This could have been one of the greatest discoveries in modern medicine, you know?" Lena said nostalgic.  

"Dr. (Y/L/N) was really aiming for that nobel." Alex would have responded more impressed than she sounded, if it weren't for the imminent danger such discovery had brought.

1:45. I'm sorry I'm dragging you into this mess but I don't trust anyone else. The information I sent you, everything is there. Documents, procedures,  test results, formulas... [Deep breath] Our own work is there. It will be easy for a genius like you to crack the code. And if anything, we already found our patient zero. If you can make it, if you can reach us, it all will be ready for testing.

"We're all in position and ready to enter." Alex spoke from over the comms.

"Remember to be careful. It's been seven days since the look down, we don't know what's inside." Replied J'onn.

"We will." Supergirl assured and turned to Lena to check up on her. "You ready?"

She was far from ready. A group of ten people, along with Alex and Supergirl, had been assigned to go into this mission. The objective was to deliver the antidote but, if necessary, the team had been given orders to eliminate any thread inside. Lena couldn't stand idly if there was a chance to find you, so she practically added herself to the group. No one could talk her out of it.

"Ready." She said with the chills crawling up on her spine.

02:11. [Light chuckle] Too much for the cure of cancer, right?...

When the team reached the sixth level, there was no sign of you, but everything else so far seemed like a scene from a horror movie. Of the forty four people that were inside, ten were still trapped in several rooms, like rabid animals, covered in blood and hitting themselves against the glass walls. Fifteen had already died of starvation and, their rotted bodies, were scattered in all directions. Nine had been stopped by Supergirl, and seven had to be shoot by the team and their bodies remained motionless on the floor. It had took eight bullets each to put them down. Two were still alive, if she could call it that, trying to crawl their way towards them.

After the shock of the scene, they finally moved towards the place they were looking for. There was a containment room in which, according to your plans of the lab, the patient zero was left. Lena walked feeling a knot of fear in her throat.

They reached the room and all they could see was a figure standing in the middle of the room. There was no movement. The figure, Lena inquired, was one of the scientist as it was dressed in a white coat. She hoped that person could still be saved. But the figure turned around, and something in her told her it was a lost case.

She saw a haggard face, unrecognizable, bloodshot eyes streaming with black blood. It was a  terrifying vision. Then she looked at the attire, noticing something on the coat pocket.

02:17. [Heavy sigh]Dear Lord, I really hope you're watching this...

The identification card had a name she recognized and realization hit her like a train wreck. Fear overwhelming her once again. She didn't want to believe it. It was just not possible.

02:29. Stop.

(Y/N) (Y/L/N). You were patient zero.

00:00. Play.

00:03. [Y/N]: [Camera shaking] Say 'hello' to the camera! [Laughing]           [Lena]: [Laughing] Hi, camera!           [Jack]: Hello [Smiling and waving]

Four years ago, Jack, Lena, and you had been spending weekends and days off at Jack's garage doing an impossible research. The three of you were well aware about the implications and obstacles of trying to find, the so called, cancer cure. Even when your college research had come down to hardly a few insignificant discoveries, you three had been more than content to spend those days together. You were friends and nothing mattered to you more than keeping that friendship. But now, Jack was dead, you were part of the living dead, and Lena had no idea what to do to help you.

It had been barely two days since the DEO team, Supergirl, and she had found you, and other forty three people, in your research labs. Thanks to whatever authority, they had been able to move you from the company's labs to another facility of the DEO. Only eleven trial subjects, including you, were now contained in separated cells. There were ongoing investigations about their identity, medical history, and health conditions regarding the clinical trials. A team of biomedical engineers was working, along Lena, to revert the effects of the serum, as the antidote she had synthesized only managed to stop the development of the symptoms.

She had spent those two days looking over and over again at your research, your formulas, notes, your own medical records; whatever that could help her understand how the serum had worked on the cancer cells. They had also recovered some of your personal items from the lab and your department, your cellphone and laptop. Lena had checked every archive you had regarding this project, and something more. You had kept photos and videos of those early days. She watched that video with nostalgia, like she could find an answer in it but unable to find it. She just didn't want to lose you too.  

00:11. [Y/N]: [Clearing throat] Ladies and gentlemen, you're watching America's Next Top Scientist, starring your fave engineers, Jack Spheer, genius Lena Luthor and (Y/N) (Y/L/N).           [Jack]: Wait, how's that Lena gets to be called genius?  

"Why are you still here?" Kara came into the lab, pulling Lena away from her distractions. "I thought J'onn had sent you home."

"Sorry, I lost track of time." She responded with a smile that didn't reach her eyes and put your laptop aside.

"Any news?" Kara stepped in, walking towards the table in which Lena had been working non-stop for the last four days.

"Not really," she sighted, "only what we already have but..."

"What is it?" Kara furrowed her eyebrows when she heard Lena's voice trail off.

Lena shook her head. "There's something off with the medical records, and (Y/N)'s last clinical tests are from three years ago."

"But, didn't (Y/N) have sent you everything?"

Lena remembered that day at her office in L-Corp, when you had sent the video and the research files had popped into her email. Everything is there. You remembered you saying, there was no reason to doubt that now. It will be easy for a genius like you to crack the code. Maybe it was Lena's exhausted brain but those last words resonated in her mind. Every document and piece of information you had sent had been considerably accessible, you hadn't put passwords or security codes... There was one somewhere.

"Where's Winn?" Lena snapped out of her thoughts.

00:28: [Y/N]: Because she is.           [Lena]: [Laughing lightly] Mm-hmm, don't contradict the presenter, Jack.           [Y/N]: Yeah, get with the program, Spheer.           [Jack]: Alright, alright [Rising his hands and smiling] so, what's todays challenge?

Winn had spent a whole day corroborating every single piece of information you had provided. Time that Lena was told to use to rest. She reluctantly left the facility with the condition that Winn would call her once he could find anything. He had promised to do so and, twenty seven hours later, Lena was again on her way to the DEO. When she arrived, Alex, Supergirl, J'onn and Winn were already gathered on a computer room, waiting for her. Several screens were displaying all medical test results from the forty people involved in the medical trials.  She looked at the screens not really understanding what was happening until Winn started to explain.

"Ok, so, I know the priority here is trying to find a cure for whatever is happening with our fellas in solitary confinement-" He started.

"Mr. Schott, to the point, please." J'onn stared at him.

"Sir, yes, sir." Winn cleared his throat. "Ok, so when we checked the documents (Y/N) sent, what we were looking for was essentially all medical information we could gather for the antidote, right? However, we never stopped to check if the information in previous test results was right."

"Yeah, that was not important at the moment." Replied Alex, crossing her arms. "We already knew the trial subjects were cancer patients and the diagnosis was confirmed in other records."

"What I mean is we never checked their personal information. Or the information stored by the labs and hospitals where their studies were made. Look." He typed something from his tablet and the test results moved on the screens.

"Why are there two copies of the same tests?" Asked Supergirl confused. Lena was the first to notice the differences.

"The numbers in the patients ID, age, birth date, and social security number are different." She took a step towards the screens.

"Yes, and I also found this." The screen changed one more time, showing what appeared to be the main menu of an app. "This is part of the system program used by the laboratory, and this is where they keep all records of research and clinical trials. And guess what? Their latest investigation is encrypted."

Lena stood there, watching the screens, when it all came rushing to her. This was what she was looking for.

00:43. [Lena]: Figure out how to stop the metastasis of cancer cells?           [Y/N]: Yep [Small pause] that and stop Jack from blowing up something else in his garage [Laughing]

Winn had spent another day deciphering the encryption system the lab had used to shield their information. J'onn had tried to get the intel directly from the people that ran the company but it had been useless. As far as they were concern, this case was nonexistent. Eleven people were still in airlock cells, waiting motionless with haggard faces and famished bodies. Only when an alarm went off or other person came in close proximity to them, they seemed to react. The black blood had stopped leaking from their eyes and, according to their recent test, the cancer cells in their bodies didn't present further changes or development.

Whatever was happening inside of them had stopped. They hoped they would stay that way. Meanwhile, Alex, Lena and the biomedical engineers, were still fighting for a solution to counteracting the serum, in hopes that the patients could be saved. But if there's something you cannot fight no matter how strong, intelligent, or brave you think you are, is Mother Nature. No one had expected this to ever happen again. The earth beneath them started to shake, slight movements becoming violent in a second. Everyone at the DEO started to move looking for a safe place, as cracks appeared from the ground and the lights swung, and flickered, from the ceiling. Lena and the doctors stayed in the lab while J'onn, Alex, and Winn were the first ones to reach the central controls after the alarms went off.

"Not again." Alex growled.

"The emergency system is working but when the power comes back it will reboot everything." Winn was typing as fast as he could on the computers.

"You need to stop that." Said J'onn with a strong voice. A minute later, the system rebooted.

00:53. [Lena]: [Laughing in the background]           [Jack]: Oh no, you didn't!           [Y/N]: Oh yes, I did [Laughing].

The alarms were still ringing when the energy came back. Lena and the engineers were the first ones to see eleven emaciated bodies run loose. What had happened at your lab was happening again inside the DEO. She only had a second to recover and seal the room's door near to her, as a figure was fast approaching. Even the glass door was closed, the figure didn't slow its pace and hit the door with its head. At the impact, Lena took a step back, raising her hands as if to protect herself.

She had lived this moment before but now she was the one trapped inside the room. The patient hit the glass once more but this time with angry fists. She wanted so desperately to get away but fear had woken up inside of her, paralyzing her in place. That instant of fear was enough for her brain to notice an evident fact she had tried to ignore. She looked at the figure and felt the cold chills crawl through her entire body. Oh, what she would give to stop it all.

00:58. Stop.

"(Y/N)." Lena's voice wavered.

00:00. Play.

00:01. [Y/N]: ...here, this is for prosperity [Smiling] Say cheese!          [Lena]: [Smiling] Wait, you're recording! [Laughing]          [Y/N]: [Loud laughter] Oh, sorry. Just let me- [Camera shaking and focusing on the floor]          [Lena]: No, no. Leave it! [Camera focusing on Lena] It works for prosperity either way.

Her voice was more of a whisper, lost among the sound of strident alarms. Her heart was pounding so hard, she could hear the beating in her hears. She looked at you, at your factions, your famished figure. There was barely a shadow of who you were hiding behind bloodshot eyes and, as if a faint moment of recognition passed between you two, you stopped hitting the glass doors. She saw you there, a smiling face and bright eyes, as if you had never changed.

For a moment, she saw her friend and she wanted so desperately to make that moment last. She knew someone was calling her name but it was like a distant sound. She then saw you turning, to follow the path the others had taken, and disappeared. Moments later everything was quiet again.

"Lena? Lena! Can you hear me?"

"Miss Luthor!" One of the doctors snapped her out of her trance. Lena saw her pointing at a laptop with Alex's face.

"Alex? What's happening?" She put herself in front of the laptop, ready to receive news or instructions about what to do. The moment before still lingering in her mind.

"Is everybody alright?" Alex asked first.

"Yes, we locked ourselves in the lab, the patients are out." Lena answered.

"We know. We are locked too in the control room."

"What's gonna happen now?"

"We need to move, immediately." Alex wouldn't take no for an answer.

"What do you mean? Why?" Lena was more than just worried now. She couldn't leave the investigation like this, so suddenly.

"All the patients are here near the main rooms." Alex made a pause. She wanted to put it in the best light but there was no possible way. She sighted. "But they are rabid, Lena, even with the alarms off they keep hitting doors and walls."

"Are you sure? The patients could only be reacting to your presence." Lena tried to argue.

"No, this is different. We moved out of their vision line, they know we were still inside."

"Can't your agents move them back to containment?"

"There was a malfunction in the cells due to the earthquake, we cannot put them back there, and we don't have the necessary equipment to prevent direct contact. If this is like the first time we cannot risk it going out there just like that and the rescue team cannot pull us out in that kind of chaos." Lena looked at her team. They were paralyzed with fear after hearing that.

"Ok, how are we doing this?" She wasn't going to put them in danger.

00:16. [Y/N]: [Behind camera] Alright. Then tell me, how does it feel to start your last year at boarding school?          [Lena]: Ugh, horrible.          [Y/N]: [Behind camera] Why? Aren't you glad this torture will be over soon?          [Lena]: I am but it also makes me sad.          [Y/N]: [Behind camera] Why?          [Lena]: Cause after graduation we'll have to say goodbye to each other.

"You didn't have to stay last, you know?" Alex said after sealing the lab doors.

"You didn't have to come for me, you know?" Lena was typing on one of the DEO computers.

"As if." Alex approached her and pulled a gun for her. "Kara would kill me if I leave to your own devices. Now, do you know how to use one of these?" She watched Lena take the gun and raise an eyebrow. She then remembered the little incident with Corben. "Alright."

"Where are the others?" Lena asked and moved to another computer.

"Moving to the safe zone." Alex was looking through the glass panels for any sign of movement. "J'onn pulled a distraction but we have to move fast. We are the last ones."

"Ok, I just need a minute." She finished typing and a 3D model of different cells appeared on the screen.

"What's this?" Alex went closer to her to see what was keeping her still in here.

"I ran a few simulations for a modified formula of the antidote we made first."

"We don't have time to make it." Alex said softly, she knew what Lena was trying to do.

"I know." Lena watched the screen. “But I also needed to know if there is a chance."

There was never anything certain about finding an antidote and yet Lena was able to find a counteragent for the serum. She hadn't given up hope and Alex was certain she wouldn't until every resource at her disposal was used. If Kara had been in a similar position, and there were times she was, she would do everything in her hands to save her. She understood that and wished she could find a way to bring you back. Alex put a gently hand on her shoulder.

"Crap." Alex turned quickly around and whispered through her teeth. The sound of bangs and screeched voices fast approaching. "We gotta move, now."

00:35. [Y/N]: [Behind camera] Oh c'mon, that's not gonna to happen. We have plans, remember?          [Lena]: Me ending world hunger and you discovering the cure of cancer?          [Y/N]: [Behind camera] Yes [Cheerful] and we'll be working together to do that. Sounds nice, don't you think?

A minute of silence. That's all they needed. Silence to let you pass. Alex and Lena were sited behind a control panel, hiding and trying to make themselves smaller, like such thing could help them. The was no other noise but your dragging feet on the concert, your erratic breathing, and the small grunts that sometimes came out of your mouth. Lena had to put a hand over her mouth to stop a little yelp when she heard you smashing a computer on the other side of the room.

Alex's mind was racing, she tried to remain calm and control her breath. The escape wasn't going to be easy. Their guns were useless at the moment. Lena had been pretty resolute about it, the patients needed to say alive, sort of, especially patient zero. Not to mention the sound of gunshots could attract the other ten that were all over the place. If they wanted to be out of that room they needed to be as sneaky as possible. They would have to hover all the way down through the dormitory rooms, the containment rooms, the infirmary, and the storage units. All the way to the back of the building were the others were waiting.  

Alex considered their options, hide or run. The first one was the safest. The rest of the patients seemed to be busy looking for anything in other places and, as long as they stayed down, patient zero couldn't find them. The second option, running, was a bit trickier. Alex was sure they could go from point A to point B in a matter of minutes. They only needed to run, as fast as they could, and only turn around to shot if the patients were getting too close.  

What worried Alex the most, however, was the lack of ammunition. Between Lena and her, they had thirty bullets. If things got out of control and they needed to use them with the patients, Alex calculated, they would have to use at least three with each one of them. Last time, she remembered, they had to use eight. The numbers were not in their favor.

Both women listened attentively. There was no more noise except for their strained breathing. Lena turned to look at Alex, determination and resolve in her eyes. Whatever Alex considered was best, she would follow her lead. Alex understood the gesture and nodded, if they had to do something, they had to do it know that they were alone. Alex raised three fingers and mouthed "run". Lena nodded.

Three. They were preparing themselves, getting into position. Two. Lena held her gun tightly, feeling a cold sweat run in her forehead. One. Time to run for their lives.

00:52. [Lena]: We are going to change the world, uh? [Smiling]          [Y/N]: [Behind camera with a louder voice] Yeah! That's the spirit!          [Lena]: We just have to survive five years of college, remember? [Laughing]          [Y/N]: [Behind camera] [Grumble] Ugh, true. You got it easy, you're a literal genius. [Curious tone] What was your IQ, again?          [Lena]: Please, you just need to study a bit more and stop procrastinating. [Raising an eyebrow]

They had passed beyond the dormitories and the containment rooms, where they were able to dodge five of the loose patients. But six of them were still out there and they couldn't know exactly where. Later, when they reached the infirmary, they finally had to draw their guns towards the three raging and gaunt figures, who were looking for something to wreck.

Lena felt her heart about to explode with the adrenaline, as she pulled the trigger of her gun. Alex was always near her, doing the same, aiming at the patients. They couldn't think another thing as they tried to keep them at bay. The bullets were barely doing any damage and, Alex discovered, the only way to really stop them was to shot them in the head. Lena was not content with that but, after almost losing an arm, she realized it was for the best. They couldn't stay there any longer. Not like that.

After the third body stopped moving, they only wanted to take a second to breath, but they knew others would come after. The sound of gunshots was still lingering on the empty walls of the DEO and, they could listen clearly, some guttural cries getting louder. Alex made the math. Six bullets. That's all they had and it was barely enough if they could take the shots. Lena knew it too. Two patients were still loose around them and they had to keep moving. They only had to pass the storage units and they could be safe.

01:12. [Y/N]: [Behind camera] Easy to say, I'm probably gonna be a zombie during finals [Grumble] Can't somebody just shot me now?              [Lena]: Oh, no. You are not allowed to die before we change the world. Remember?

Her muscles were burning and the fear was crawling through her whole body again. Seeing your face filled with blood and delirium as you chased them through that corridor had been the last straw.

Alex had to shoot first, two bullets that only managed to hit the patient that was behind you. Neither of you stopped. Another bullet from Lena's gun hit your chest. You kept running. Alex pulled the trigger. Finally stopping the emaciated body that had followed you. Two bullets for patient zero, that's all that was left.

Lena had recognized you. How she didn't know. There was nothing in you now that could have told her you were her friend turned into a monster. Only that little shadow that refused to leave the back of your eyes remained. She shot you once on your chest. The bullet passing near your heart making you stop a few meters away from them. They were close to the safe zone. Only one room and they could reach it.

But you didn't want to stop. You couldn't. Lena knew she had to use that last bullet if they were going to make it. She didn't want to shot. You were the patient zero. Part of the key to the cure was still in you. She knew she needed you alive to keep gathering samples and making tests.

You kept moving, slowly and with difficulty but sill advancing. Bloodshot eyes were looking at her. A starved, disfigured body trying to reach her. A voice no longer human screaming at her. She didn't want to shot. Part of her telling her it was still you. Not all gone. She needed you to stay alive so you could see the fruit of your work.

You kept moving. Hands pressing your chest as black blood poured from the hole in it. Then, a faint second of recognition and acknowledgment. It was no longer you who was inside. She didn't want to shot. Parts of her heart breaking. You were all gone now. She aimed at your head and pulled the trigger.

01:23. [Y/N]: [Behind camera] [Sigh] Ok, but they better give us that Noble after that.          [Lena]: [Laughing] You're always so humble.          [Y/N]: [Behind camera] [Nonchalant tone] I know, I know [Both laughing]

Three years ago, you arrived one night at National City General Hospital with fever, nausea and abdominal pain. At first, you had though it was food poisoning, or something similar, but the abdominal pain became constant and worse. The doctors had taken you immediately to surgery to perform a common procedure, but what they found had been a bit unusual. Appendicitis had been the first diagnosis. A carcinoid tumor, the second. Distant spread in liver and lungs of carcinoid tumors, the third.

Two and a half years ago, you started to work on the project on your own. Moved by a fear you never acknowledged, you searched and researched everything you could. You spent days and nights reading investigation papers, research reports, medical journals, test results. You had even taken that little research Jack, Lena, and you had done during college years. This work had become the priority and you were determined to find a solution.

A year after the cancer diagnosis you started working on it in the company's labs. It had been an almost impossible task to convince investors and the company board to let you start this project. In the past decade there had been barely a few significant discoveries about the disease and the idea itself of the cure of cancer had been ridiculous for them. But you show them that, even if the cure for cancer was impossible to accomplish, the company could still gain from your patents and discoveries. You assured them, with a smile, the reward was bigger than the risk.

Six months ago you had injected thirty nine people and yourself with the serum. Trial after trial in your investigation had leaded to that moment. The selected patients were given a dose of the serum and were asked to document their symptoms and medical diagnosis with their general doctors. During four months there was nothing but positive results. Your team was euphoric, the company was satisfied. You were hopeful.

Two months ago you realized it all had back fired. Your team reunited the other thirty nine patients to run the tests again. There cancer cells were not only increasing at a faster rate but they were changing. The serum was no longer a remedy but a catalyst.

One month ago, the company knew it was a lost case. The patients were getting worst and you had started to feel the symptoms yourself. For the first time ever, you didn't curse your slow growing cancer, as it had somehow relented the serum progress. You had to fix it somehow. You had to do it fast.

Two weeks ago, the company had left you and your team alone inside the labs. They saw your mistake and they wanted it all gone. The small hopes you had been all vanished, replaced by the dread you had tried to avoid since your diagnosis. You screamed, you cried, and tried to remember your life and the good in it. If you were going to die anyway, you wanted to leave with the fond memories about your family and friends. The love you shared with them. The adventures. Your hopes to change the world. And Lena.

Two weeks ago, you took all the files and documents, and modified them, knowing the company wouldn't let them leak that easily, and put yourself in front of a camera. Not because there was a solution, a cure, an antidote, but because there was someone out there. Someone away from this hellhole that could make things better.

           00:00. [Recording]

           00:02. Hello, Lena...

You started and a little hope returned to you. After all, she was going to change the world.

01:34. Stop.

Lena's voice was soft and trembling, like you were dreaming and she was afraid to wake you up.

But your dream had turned into a nightmare from which there was no wakening.

"(Y/N)." She said after the last bullet went straight to your head.

You didn't move again.

[sylvaetria]

Hey Richtor, did you ever post anything in your resources about tips for storing and organizing spells and supplies?

Yo anon.

Most of what I have for storing spells is all about grimoires and the like - compiling them in books or folders or digital archives, etc. I talk about that (how one might organize spells for a grimoire) specifically in [this post].

I’ll try to throw together a quick list of tips for things for you, though, because yeah, don’t see a lot of that.

For spells:

Firstly, decide if it matters to you. Because for some people, they’re happy to flip through their stuff looking for things, but me, I like being able to find what I need when I need it super fast. If you don’t wanna put any time into organization like that, that’s fine, it doesn’t need to be that way; your grimoire, you do you. So decide, first of all, if you care about spells being in a particular order or categorized or whatever, and then go from there.

Me, personally, I try to keep things grouped by intent. So, I try to keep all the protection spells together, followed by cleansing, then banishing, etc. I do it in a order of importance that I find significant; the more “frivolous” spells go in the back of the book, and curses at the very very back. But that’s just my personal preference; you sort (or not sort) however your magical heart desires.

If you want to be able to arrange your spells exactly as you want, a three-ring binder is a good choice; if you want aesthetics for your grimoire, they may not seem the obvious one, but they’re wonderful for their ability to allow the moving of pages to wherever you deem necessary, and also discreet if you need that. There are also those binders that kinda look like sweet magical textbooks, I think they’re on Etsy, if you’ve got a bit of extra budget to spend on something like that. Otherwise, Sharpies and sigils can go a long way to making any book look magical, but that’s an entire other post lmao.

Another good system for storage is loose leaf paper in those accordion folder things. Whatever they’re called. These mother fuckers:

Again, not exactly the best for aesthetic, but super great for easy labelling to find exactly what is where. You can rearrange things at a whim, and not worry about having to tear a page out of a fifty dollar leather-bound book because you misspelled a single word. (Me, I cry.)

For most other books, it could be useful to keep a table of contents somewhere at the front or back, or wherever you can, if you happen to add spells in whatever order you find them in, and not section them off based off intent or purpose. I see a lot of bullet journal style grimoires with a theme much like this, so if that piques your interest, I’d suggest doing a search on bullet journals. Particularly, I believe I have a post about bullet journaling, magic-styles, somewhere... Boom, [here].

We haven’t even started on digital grimoires yet. Probably the easiest to organize and maintain, in my personal opinion in any case. It can be online or off, in a blogging platform or on a cloud, saved as a word document on your phone or PC, broken up into separate files and folders... Almost endless options for this one. And the best part? Password protection. (I’m a tech kid.) I could honestly go on and on forever about this particular point, but there are so many options, feel free to try some yourself if you’re looking for a discreet, easy-access and organized way to sort your spells.

If it helps anyone, I have four binders, like four or five notebooks, a blog, a OneNote, and folders on my computer all dedicated to witchcraft. This blog literally acts as a digital grimoire for me - it’s also why I spend so much time tagging and hating it, so when I need to find something for my own reference, I have that easy access. I have a huge list of herb correspondences in its own cute little notebook, just because it would take up so much damn space in a binder on its own anyway. My tarot spreads have their own notebook, as do a set of very detailed interpretations for the card meanings, because some of my books are, super lacking to say the least. 

So, like, it’s clear I put a lot of time into my witchy notes and how I keep them, but that is just me. If it sounds like too much work and you don’t wanna bother, honestly don’t. I do it because it satisfies me, because I feel it adds to my craft, because I enjoy it. That’s what it should be like for all y’all too. So, again, if you don’t feel like having your stuff in any particular order or manner is relevant to how you do your magic-y biz, seriously don’t bother - your grimoire is no less a grimoire (or whatever term you use to call a book of magic) because it’s not organized, or doesn’t look witchy, or you just write the notes and not bother with designs. I will say it as many times as it takes to run it into the ground - you do you in your own magic.

For supplies:

This one I might have less to say on, because my stuff is, heh, not so organized lmao. 

I guess mostly, again, it comes down to what works for you, or whatever keeps your supplies safe from harm.

Some people keep boxes for their supplies - I’ve painted a shoe box and kept witchy biz in it. If you want to line it or not to keep things safe, probably depends on you or what you plan to put it in.

Sometimes things don’t need to be stored - if you have space and you are able, you can leave them out on a shelf or even tucked into a drawer. Seriously, wherever you can put them, wherever they will be safe, I think that’s mostly what matters for that.

Crystals might need the most special treatment, especially more fragile specimens. I know, when I moved, I had to wrap all my crystals into shirts and socks to make sure nothing damaged them on the way. And, quite frankly, they’re still all like that. Mostly because I don’t have a lot of other place to put them right now, but it really is keeping them protected too. So while it may not look the most witchy, it’s pretty damn functional.

Labels are helpful, particularly with herbs that look veeery similar. 

On the topic of herb containers, as long as the herbs are dry, they are safe to store in whatever container you want to put them in. I have herbs in a mixture of glass jars, plastic containers, and sandwich bags. So yeah.

Like I said, not really so much experience on supplies - most of my stuff is practical, not necessarily done because it looks good but because it works. And a lot of my more important supplies are just, chilling on a shelf. I know not everyone has the ability to be so open with their craft, but based on my scope of perspective and experience, I can only talk about things that I have done or encountered, and so I may not be able to give accurate advice for every situation. You know? 

Regardless, I hope that helps you anon! If you have any more questions about more specific things I may have mentioned here, feel free to shoot more asks. Hopefully I will be on a bit more frequently here, now that I can see again, though my PC is still, so, so slow. Good luck!

[ellana-ravenwood]

“Mother, it’s your day” - Batmom x Batfam

It’s not mother’s day where I come from, but since it is in a shitload of countries...Well, I wrote something with the batfamily about it (I wrote it in litteraly 10 minutes, writing as words came to my mind, and didn’t proof read, sorry if there’s mistakes, and if it’s meh). Hope you’ll like it, don’t hesitate to tell me what you think, feedbacks are always appreciated  :

You can find my masterlist here : @ella-ravenwood-archives

_______________________________________________________________________

It was 6 am when they came back from patrol. As usual, they found you asleep in Bruce’s giant chair, in front of the batcomputer, waiting for them to come back. 

You would usually wake up at the sound of their arrival, however today, you were in a deep slumber...You had quite a difficult and busy week. Bruce, knowing that, stopped Damian from waking you up. 

He couldn’t blame the boy though. He was too excited...it was his first “Mother’s Day” after all. Damian annoyed his brothers all night, asking for advice about what he was suppose to do on that day, and once he understood the purpose of it, got really excited about showing you how much you meant to him...But right now, you needed your sleep. 

To be honest, they all needed sleep. It could wait a few hours. 

Raising you delicately in his arms, Bruce took you back to the master’s bedroom. You didn’t stir when he laid you in bed, and you didn’t even react to the sound of him taking a shower. When he slipped in bed, you went to snuggle against him, but he realized that it was more a reflex than you being awake, and with a small smile on his face, he wrapped his arms around you and soon, he was asleep too. 

************************

The smell of eggs and bacon is what woke you up. And Bruce’s groans. 

You opened one eye, and then the other, slowly, sleep still fogging your vision a bit. You weren’t sure what were those four forms at the end of your bed...

-I sure hope you guys aren’t naked under the cover, cause that’s a sight I don’t wanna see right after waking up. 

Tim. That was Tim’s voice. So those shadowy figure there must be...your sons. You feel Bruce shift a bit, one of his hand is rubbing his eyes with vigor, while his other hand is comfortably settled on the small of your back. The blanket is all the way up to your chin, and your head is on your husband’s bare chest, yours arms around him. You yawn loudly before turning your face toward your children. 

-We always sleep naked. 

Your four boys all gasp, and Jason pushes Damian toward you. You don’t understand at first, why they’re not just running away right now, as they usually do...That’s when you see the tray filled with food. A glass of orange juice, a huge cup of the blackest coffee ever, that only you would drink, toasts, eggs, bacon, pancakes, butter...What the Hell is all this ? 

Damian walks awkwardly to your night table, and tries to focus on your face only. Though the blanket is covering your entire body, and even half of your face, he’s still...worried. He puts the tray down on your night table, pushing away the books that littered it to find some space, and quickly moves away. 

-It’s your day, mother. 

He says, and it finally hits you. Oh. Oh it’s so cute. 

You sit up, wrapping the blanket around you (and forcing Bruce to sit up too, and to stay close from you, so that his lower half doesn’t traumatize his children). They all look away, and you smile. 

-Yeah well, happy mother’s day mom, we hum...We’re gonna wait in the kitchen. Don’t take too long, we...have a lot of things to do today ! 

Dick says, finally looking at you when he realizes you’re wrapped in a blanket. They all leave the room, and Bruce groans some more. 

-I do not want to wake up. 

-You’re already awake. 

-Stand up. 

-You don’t have to. 

-But you’re going to, because you’re curious about what they prepared for you, and staying in bed without you makes no sense. 

You smile at Bruce and turn around to kiss him lovingly, he pulls away just slightly, and, still feeling his breath on your face, his nose brushing against yours, he says : 

-Happy mother’s day. 

You smile in the kiss he gives you next, and wrap your arms around his neck. His hands go on your waist, and he raises you up from the bed and drags you to him, so that you can straddle them. You push him down on the mattress, as his fingers gently caress your back. You take his hands in yours, and pin them above his head. Hot. But you pull away from the kiss, and he chases after you, raising his head to follow yours, his tongue darting a bit out of his mouth. He wasn’t done with the kissing, actually, quite the opposite, he was really getting into it. A bit too much, as you know where the kiss would lead the both of you...You smile some more and rest your forehead on his. 

-I don’t have time for that right now Bruce, you heard them ? Busy day. 

-You can spare a few minutes...

-As if it’s ever gonna last a few minutes. 

-I can make it quick. I’ll skip the foreplay. 

-We both now you won’t, and “quick”, is still over an...

-Come on, just stay a bit...

Oh. He’s trying to get you with his cute puppy eyes. But you know what ? It’s your day, it won’t work. You smile slyly at him, and get off of him, going to take the tray of delicious food your sons made for you. They went a bit overboard with it, as it is filled with way too much things...Perfect.  

His groans and on of his hand trying to catch you to bring you back on him makes you chuckle. You escape him easily though, as sleep is still fogging his mind, and he just wasn’t ready to have to “fight you” to stay close to him. You usually do. 

He tried to convince you once more to come back to bed with him, kissing your neck from behind, his legs on each sides of yours, and his hands roaming your naked body...but it wasn’t going to work. 

First, you were eating, and when eating, nothing could break your focus, not even your Husband trying to turn you on. And second, you were really curious about what your children planned for you today...Curiosity always won. 

He didn’t really try too much to convince you however, knowing how important that day was to your sons. Besides, he had you every mornings, he could share for once. Just for once though. 

He gave up on keeping you with him, and, still wrapped around you, you fed him some of your massive breakfast, turning his childish pouty face into a small smile. 

You ate your great homemade breakfast (you knew they did it themselves because some of the toasts were a bit burned, the scrambled eggs were undercooked, and traces of their fingers were on your orange juice glass...Alfred would never leave any traces on any glass) while talking to your husband, trying to make him say what your sons prepared for you (of course, he knew, he help them get ideas of things to do with you, knowing you better than anyone else). 

*********************

They explained everything to you, and damn were they organized. You suspected Damian did most of the work (and you were right). 

They divided the day in four, a quarter for each of them, so that they’d have you all to themselves for a few hours each. Sounded like a great idea. Some mother/son bonding with all of them. At the end of the day, you were suppose to all reunite, and watch your favorite film : (your favorite film). Oh, and they also got you a shit ton of gifts you didn’t even really need. Jewelries, perfumes, books...Oh well, it was still extremely sweet. 

Sitting next to you at the kitchen table, Bruce couldn’t hide his smile. He would probably not see you of the entire day, but it was alright, because he knew they were going to take good care of you. Besides, he was already planning on spending the day at his mother’s grave, to talk to her and all, bringing her a bouquet of flowers he picked up himself in the Manor’s garden, just like he did when he was a kid...It was good to be alone to do that, he didn’t want to make any of you sad. 

Dick was the first to take you out, as he was the eldest one and self-proclaimed himself best fitted to take you out for the lunch part of the day. He took you to your favorite restaurant, on Gotham’s dock. It wasn’t the best or fanciest one, but you loved it. The view of the ocean from the terrace was perfect, and it was such a beautiful day. You ordered (your favorite meal), and engaged an interesting conversation about your son’s complicated love life...Oh that boy. After lunch, you went to walk on the dock, and after he begged you to tell him more, you started to tell him stories of your childhood. They made him laugh more than once, you were quite the daredevil when you were a kid...You met Jason at the end of the dock for his turn of the day with you. 

But before leaving with him, you bought some flowers from a shot near by, and threw them in the ocean. When your sons looked at you curiously, you said :

-It’s for Mary and Catherine, your moms. In their memories. For bringing in the World such wonderful boys like you two. I know I’ll never take their pl...

The group hug they gave you was to tight you almost suffocated. You made them cry, but of happy tears...You always had the right words and actions to make them feel loved. You didn’t replace their mothers, you just...became their mom too. It was as simple as that, and they told you so. You filled in more than perfectly the emptiness the death of their mothers left in their heart. 

You were their mom now, and you had been for years, since they were little heartbroken kids that you took in your home, you had to deal with it. You could definitely do that. They were your sons. Yours.

With a last kiss on his cheek, and a “I love you, thank you I had a wonderful time”, you left a smiling Dick behind and went to your little mom/son date with Jason. 

Paintball. That’s what he wanted to do with you. A bit worried you wouldn’t like it, he told you awkwardly that he had a plan B just in case and...

-No Jay. It’s perfect. I love paintball, like for real. Prepare to get your ass whooped my boy. 

With a laugh, he put his protection gears on, and the war began. 

You did indeed whooped his ass. The white workwear he was wearing were covered in paint, while he managed to got you only once on the shoulder...Damn, the infamous Red Hood lost against his mother at a paintball game. He was so glad it was just the two of you, if his friends, brothers or father were here...Little did he know, you’d tell the story later, and the worst one of all to mock him was going to be a very sassy Alfred. 

You then went to get some milkshake, and to talk. You loved to talk with your kids, and you were the only one to whom they told everything (or almost everything). Quickly Tim joined you to steal you away from Jason. A kiss on the cheek, a “I love you” and a “Thank you” to Jay later, you were walking with Tim toward your next destination. 

A museum. Of course. But not just any museum...It was “Mr Ripley’s believe it or not”. You adored that place filled with bizarrerie and curiosities. Some of the exposed object confused your son, as he couldn’t make his mins as wether the things he saw were real or not...It made you burst out in laughter more than once, and Tim accentuated his confusion even more just to hear you laugh. When you were done with the museum, you went to grab waffles (seriously, by the end of the day, you were going to explode because of the amount of food you ingested...but who cares ?), and spoke together. You also bought some flower for Tim’s mother, and when you explained it to him, he was so stunned that he didn’t react right away. He then hugged you, just like his brothers did, and proceeded on telling you the exact same things his brothers said. 

You were his mom. He loved you. 

Damian arrived while he was hugging you, and with a “tt” toward his brother, he took your hand and you barely had time to lay a kiss on Tim’s cheek and say “thank you” before he was out of reach and earshot. Damian was excited to show you what he prepared for you. 

The roof of Wayne’s corp, that’s where he took you. To watch the sun go down. It was breathtaking. Magnificent. Damian was proud of the effect it had on you. And was so glad that you never even thought about going on his father’s company’s building roof. The surprise was perfect. 

You sat on the border of the building, your feet dangling above Gotham City, and enjoyed the sight. You talked more with Damian than you ever did, and...

-I love you moth...Mommy. You’re the best thing that ever happened to me. I never knew anyone could love someone like I love you, I never knew a mother could be so great. I...I just love you, and I’m happy and honored to be your son. 

-...Oh...Damian...I love you too my boy...Come here. 

The hug you gave him was the best he ever received. And, your hand brushing his hair lovingly, he almost cried of happiness. 

He had a mom. And the best one at that. All this joy almost made him forgot to gave you the cookies he made for you. They were charred, black, so burned...And yet, you ate all of them without an hesitation, and when he told you that he was now sure you loved him too because there was no way in Hell a normal person would eat his cookies that eagerly, the laugh that escaped your mouth made his heart race. 

He had a mom. And the best one at that. You. With a lot of regret, as the sun disappears behind the ocean, and the Moon starts to rise, Damian says you probably should go back home. You agree, your day is finally over, and you wished you could relieve it over and over, because those boys were just amazing. The conversations you had with them were great, and you felt so lucky to have had those hours with them. 

Damian’s first mother’s day was better than he even imagined, and he couldn’t wait for the next one. He was already thinking about what he should do...Maybe take you to New Zealand maybe ? You were a huge Lord of the Rings fan...Oh well, he had an entire year to think about it ! 

**********************

You came home to the dinner table being settled, with candles and all, only for two...Confused, you turned to your sons. 

-We thought that, to finish the day,  you and father should have time just the two of you. We know you don’t have much of those so...Here. 

-We’re still waiting for you to watch (your favorite movie) though ! 

-No we’re not Damian. They probably won't be coming back after dinner. 

-What ? Where are they going to g...Oh. OOOOOH ! No. Gross. Shut up. 

You laugh, and your clear voice make them smile unconsciously. It just appears on their face when they hear you. You have the clearest, brightest laugh, and they all loved it..even when it turned a bit silly when you were laughing to much, struggling for air. 

You kiss all of them, and Bruce comes in, wearing your favorite tuxedo. 

The dinner is amazing. Your sons were right, you didn’t have much times to just enjoy each other. Talking about anything and everything. Being almost sickeningly affectionate together without hearing a “ew” was a nice change of pace...Heartfelt “I love you” and other cheesy “There’s no life without you” were exchanged in the heat of the moment, though you guys meant all of it.  Before going to bed with your Bruce however, you decide to go watch that film with your sons, because they’ve been absolutely perfect today, and you know they wanted you to join them. 

Popcorn, ice cream, cookies, milk and sodas, your favorite movie on, surrounded by your husband and sons. Great. Bruce’s arm was around your shoulder. Damian was sitting next to you, asleep, his head in your lap, Tim was sitting in front of you on the floor, his back against your legs. Dick was next to Damian, asleep on his laps, and one of your hand gently caressing his scalp. Jason sat down in the armchair next to the couch, but your hand were in his, so it was fine. 

Popcorn, ice cream, cookies, milk and sodas, your favorite movie on, surrounded by your husband and sons. Perfect end to a perfect day. 

Actually, scratch that, the perfect end was when Bruce picked you up bridal style after the end of the film, and threw you on your shared bed to show you how much he loved (love) you too.

[seenashwrite]

The Nail: May 2017

I see lots of weekly/bi-weekly/monthly fic recommendation lists going around, and I think this is absolutely wonderful exposure for writers from their peers and those who may not write, but sure do enjoy reading. 

A great thing about the lists I've seen is their focus on certain categories of fic - very ideal for readers to sort what they'd like to read; thing is, I haven't personally seen one that focuses solely on the quality of the writing.

You know - Character dimension. Writing with clever readers in mind. Crazy crisp dialogue. Incredibly tight plotting. Big emotion.

So what’s the scoop on The Nail?  

Since there's lots of opportunity to get on the aforementioned types of lists, The Nail's not gonna focus on those. You can find more detail on what that means HERE.

What The Nail isn't about is perfection. It isn't about Pulitzer-level contenders. It's about seeing focus and effort radiate out of the screen.

Though I focus on Supernatural, it doesn't matter what fandom or if it is a completely original work; how "known" or "unknown" the author may be; poetry, series, long, short  - quality is quality. If an author nailed it, they [and others] should know it.

And here's the thing: I'm not going to be the only one making the call - YOU are the main curators. The aim is to kick out a round-up on/near the top of every month, filled with what you think is the best of the lot. The link to every post will be archived at the main page for The Nail linked above.

How to get it to me?

Dear Nash IS THE PREFERENCE [link to fic + your comment for why you’ve nominated]

Tag me when you re-blog it, noting you’ve tagged me specifically for “The Nail” consideration

If you forgot to add a comment in your re-blog on why you want it considered for “The Nail”, send it via message

UPDATE 12/2017: Go here to get the scoop on what “The Nail” is looking for, then over here to submit your nomination. I won’t take ‘em by tagging me or PMs or Asks, purely for organization sake!

Why are you being asked to comment on why you loved it? 

Other than serving to encourage the author, you and your recommendation are *also* going to be noted in The Nail, because awesome readers deserve some props, too.  Think of it as a virtual book jacket with featured quotes from an author's peers.

Keep scrolling for some fics I've reviewed during my time here - they contain a variety of subject matter and all feature a common thread: Quality.

(And you can always find my original reviews of these & others by searching for the hashtag - Nash Gives [Feed]back)

For your reblogging convenience, here’s The Nail Master Post of Editions!

* All from the world of “Supernatural unless otherwise noted - untitled works use the first few words as substitute - listed in no particular order *

SHORTER [1,500-ish & below, such as gif-inspired, drabbles & whatnots]

@idreamofhazel - SAM WAS, FOR ALL INTENTS AND PURPOSES [...]

A light vignette on how what others see - and perhaps how we see ourselves - is not all there is to the story of a person.

@lipstickandwhiskey - CONVALLARIA

Did you hear the one about the artist who walked into a flower shop and met a former jailbird angel? Haven’t?  No worries, it’s all explained in this lovely tale.

@castielhasthetardis - DIFFERENCES

A slightly serious with touches of sweetness story with nicely done characterizations.

@impala-dreamer - I WANNA HOLD YOUR HAND

An incredibly well-constructed drabble that [for this reviewer] still hasn't been beat in terms of telling a fleshed-out story in such a short space while keeping an even tone throughout.

@leatherwhiskeycoffeeplaid - THE ONE WITH THE GIRL FROM POUGHKEEPSIE

If you've ever wondered why "Poughkeepsie" was the stop-everything-and-go signal for the Winchester brothers, look no further. [**unable to tag, if someone would kindly let them know**]

@hamartiamacguffin - TOLD YA

Laughter guaranteed in this top-shelf, perfectly written, gut-busting tale of an encounter with a most formidable foe.

@bringmesomepie56 - I STEPPED INTO THE ROOM [...]

A vignette on comfort that shows restraint in dialogue and descriptors without losing tone, and emphasizes a balance in both characters' needs being met.

@whispersandwhiskerburn - OFFICER, LOOK [...]

Very smile-inducing, funny and witty tale of the trials of helping Dean talk his way out of a jam.

@zepppie  - NO PLACE LIKE HOME... UNTIL NOW

An engaging & grin-worthy little tale with a unique setting - if you need a touch of levity in your day, this should do the trick nicely.

@chaos-and-the-calm67 - FIRST TIME

Great little quickie-fic with a sassy protagonist and a sexy interaction over a game of pool.

@demondean-for-kingofhell - ITCH

A short, tightly-written, humorous tale. No more will be revealed so as not to ruin the plot, other than this: Dean's got an itch to scratch.

@itsnotsammy - ANGELS ARE REAL [...]

Quick burst of a tale that takes on the perspective of a person making the leap from innocence of a sort to full-blown knowledge.

@impala-dreamer - WHAT NOW

A limited dialogue vignette taking on the perspective of a person whose life has been saved by the Winchesters, with nice detailed touches that paint the picture of her experience.

@calaphrass - SAM EATS BLACKBERRIES [...]

Tightly-written piece that has an allegorical bend & looks at how we can make substitutions, replace the bad with the good, though it never erases the pull of the past.

@just-another-busy-fangirl - MILK

A graveyard shift at the Gas-n-Sip gets a lot more interesting for a bored clerk when a black Impala pulls up out front. Get ready to laugh.  

@fanforfanatic - WATCH FOREVER

An introspective, yet not weighed-down, vignette on what Dean sees when he stops and takes in his life.

@amanda-teaches - THE RADIO

A humorous tale involving what is possibly Dean’s #1 pet peeve.

 @blackcaptainrogers - HEROES

A story with a perspective twist not typically seen, highlighting the blend of trepidation with strength that is felt when confronted with needed sacrifice, and a nice touch of closure at the end.

@lipstickandwhiskey - MR. CHERRY PIE [PT.2]

A well-paced, short-and-sweet story with a thoughtful, reminiscent Dean who considers what might have been - and then, just maybe, what still could be.

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MID-WAY [around 1,500 - 2,000-ish]

@storyofawinchester - FLOATING

Lovely, considerate, dark and introspective short story written with a poetic feel that has resolution without going sappy.

@fanforfanatic - WE'LL BUILD A TREEHOUSE

Suggests what life might be like should the Winchesters “retire” to dip into an average life and resists the pull into the saccharine in favor of mixing sweet with sour, and is all the better for it.

@roxy-davenport - HARD HABIT TO BREAK 

Do you like a touch of angst with your Dean Winchester? With some love and a splash of naughty, too?  Search no further.

@fanforfanatic - THE ORANGE THING

Easy read of a story that’s guaranteed to make you chuckle, all about an everyday activity gone rogue.

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LONGER [2,000-ish & beyond]

@butiaintgonnaloveem - IT'S A DYING INDUSTRY [PT.2]

Well-written and well-researched story with an inventive plot, touches of humor amongst the creepy - so it nails the Supernatural vibe - and spot-on characterization.

@seljepw - PRACTICAL ANIMISM

Well-crafted story, from structure to plot to verbiage, all about the Impala's early life with the Winchesters - and all from Baby's perspective.

@fanforfanatic - TAKE ME HOME

A palate cleanser from sappy and shmoopy that’s well-written and abundantly realistic for anyone who’s ever been in a long-term relationship that should work on paper but just won’t in reality.

@butiaintgonnaloveem - THAT SPECIAL SOMEONE

A what-may-have-happened tale, set during Sam's time at Stanford, with a solidly fleshed-out protagonist and plot, tied up with a spot-on ending.

.

DEEP DIVES * Series that are just kicking into gear, but are off to a hell of a world-building start *

@carryonmycobaltangel - BEGINNING AGAIN

A post-apocalyptic tale - "It was never like this. A time where humanity forcefully became a part of a game where the only options were dying a bloody death while on the run, or turning into one of them."

@idreamofhazel - THE BOYKING

An alternative universe -  "Sam became Azazel’s Boyking. Dean couldn’t stop it and now he lives in uncomfortable tolerance of Sam, struggling to understand why this happened."

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OTHER FANDOMS

@buckykingofmemes [ Mod: @hellenhighwater ] - CLOSET SOFTIE: OR, HOW BUCKY BARNES NEARLY RUINED HIS TOUGH-GUY REP

A precision-crafted, hilarious delight that starts with missing trail mix and goes on to view a handful of situations through the eyes of one very confused Clint Barton.

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ORIGINAL WORK

@hamartiamacguffin - A GENTLE, TIRED SIGH

A short, melancholic, somewhat poetic tale that is an excellent example of putting just enough plot information out there so the ending can unfurl gracefully.

Happy reading!

[PS: I have several more in my “To Review” folder - just ‘cause you’re not on the list for May doesn’t mean you won’t be soon!]