#when they said ‘they’re like people only portable’

[ironriots]

season 3 wishlist: muriel reading every book in the bookshop and becoming an In-Theory-But-Absolutely-Not-In-Practice Expert on Human Behavior™️.

[s-4pphics]

rip, halloweekend! (e.w.)

hi😳 it’s my last week as a student and i felt sad so i wrote fratadjacent!ellie lol. literally just wanted to reminisce on party hookups since they’re over for me </3 

wc;cw: 3.4k mmm, MDNI!!, NOT PROOFREAD AT ALL IM VERY BUSY LOL, all ocs r black coded y’all see it, mentions of (faux)blood and vomit like once, alcohol weed it’s a party duh, 21 and tee grizzley promo like pay me, girls kissing🤭, dubcon(every1 is faded af lol), ellie’s sleazy, mentions of orgies and anal? uh oh, ellie’s so cocky <3, dirty talk, fingering, eating out no mcdonalds, spanking ass and tits lol, okie yeah dassit <3 

everyone say thank u to the loml @fandomshitpostingqueen 4 the title :3

Your school always turned up and out for Halloween. 

You and your friends had been complaining about how trash the parties have been for months, but now the streets are littered with people dressed as bare as possible in the freezing cold. They were all shotgunning beers in the middle of the street, blasting trap music through their portable speakers, throwing up everywhere. 

And you were so excited! This was going to be fun. 

You never particularly liked going to frat parties: their houses were never clean, it was always boiling hot in the basement, and the cops almost always showed up to shut the entire place down (only for another party to blow up in the early hours in the morning, and they shut them down, too! Fuckers!). But after your first ever mind-numbing, toe-curling, drunken fuck with… her at the Alpha Sigma Phi house in September last year, you hardly ever stepped foot in clubs again. 

You two weren’t super close even though you fucked on and off, but you were friends with her housemate, Riley, so whenever she invited you over, you would discreetly watch Ellie silently making cereal—high out of her mind—in only her sports bra and gray sweats. You hadn’t seen her since the start of the semester, when she’d dropped off your wobbly, highly intoxicated roommate with after she’d snapped you a hey. ur roomie drank alooottt and is really fucked up rn imma drop her off leave the door unlocked pls lol. 

It was a mystery how they got past your building's security since your roommate could barely hold up her I.D. according to Ellie, but you didn’t press since she seemed in a rush to get back to the party she was at. She quickly laid your friend in her bed before throwing you a quick see ya! before fleeing out the door. You didn’t even have a chance to properly look at her before your own door slammed in your face. 

And now here you are, standing in the frat entry line freezing your ass off in your slutty, glittery angel costume with a cheap, but feathered halo atop your head. Your dress barely passed your thighs, and your white, lace-up heels were getting scuffed on the concrete. You didn’t even want to be an angel, but your friends forced you to match with them with their demands of Were gonna be Charlie’s Angels, bitch I’m not playing!, to which you’d argue, they weren’t actually angels, clown! But after three days of consistent glares and pleading from your googly-eyed group, you gave in. 

“Bro, I’m so fuckin’ excited. I need more shots, I need more shots! —“

“Can you shut the fuck up, you sound crazy,” your good friend, Cleo said to your… feening friend, Evelyn. A gust of Fall wind blew past all of you, and you shivered in unison. 

“It’s too fucking cold for this shit! If y’all would’ve let me down that Svedka bottle, I would be warm as fuck right now!” Evelyn pressed at both of you between chattering teeth. 

“Bitch, you almost peed in these people's kitchen sink the last time you did some stupid shit like that! In front of everyone!” Cleo scolded with a glare, and Evelyn scoffed before turning away to look at the moving line. Your friend then turned her attention to you. 

“You tryna see your girlfriend?” Cleo said to you with a smirk while she hit her dab, and you rolled your eyes so hard, they almost fell out. 

“She’s not my fuckin’ girlfriend, shut up,” you tried to say as convincingly as possible. They both snorted at your attempts, clearly in denial. 

Your friends always made it sound like you were in love with Ellie when she was brought up. You could admit to having a crush on her, sure, but you weren’t always craving her attention. You let her come and go as she pleased, and you did the same. 

Your thoughts were cut off by some drunk, obnoxious asshole screaming at the two of you to pull out your school I.Ds. You all did, and the door immediately pulled open, and you were hit in the face with the bass from the speakers. You all entered, hand in hand, and watched people dance in masks, people making out, people twerking on the counter. And you all were finally warm. 

You moved through the packed, LED lit house to where everyone was dancing, and you and your friends made a small circle in the middle of the crowded floor. Evelyn managed to snag an unopened bottle of Tito’s from the counter and you, and Cleo stared in shock as she downed three large gulps like it was water. You snatched the bottle from her before she could get any more down, only to take three large sips of your own, before turning to Cleo, ushering her to lean her head back so you could pour some in her mouth. 

You felt lighter. 

Thirty minutes passed, and Cleo was throwing it back on you, and you were throwing it back on Evelyn as she clumsily thrusted her hips into your ass, bottle in hand. Your halo was tipping, you were sweating out your press, and your glittery liner was smudging, but you couldn’t give a fuck. 21 was on, and nothing else mattered. 

Until Evelyn stopped, pulling you up to her chest and sloppily whispered that she had to pee. You shook your head as you giggled, pulling a very high Cleo up to guide her to the bathroom by her iced-out wrist.

The line for the bathroom was so fucking long. What the fuck. 

But you and your friends were finally next. Evelyn was leaning back against the wall as she squeezed her legs together, whining out quiet dontpeedontpeedontpee’s to herself with her eyes shut. You shook your head at her. 

However, you all immediately stiffened when you heard a desired squeal of fuck yes, like that! coming from the bathroom. That’s why y’all were standing here for so fucking long?! So somebody could get their nut?! 

Cleo shook her head with a I know you fuckin’ lying before banging her fist on the door. “Bro, hurry the fuck up! We don’t have time for this shit!”

“Hold the fuck on, damn!” and your back straightened at the voice, eyebrows furrowing. Ohh, shit oh fuck! —

And the door swung open, revealing a very flushed Ellie, lips glistening and eyes tinted pink with a black cloak on, Scream mask in hand. She even had fake blood smeared on her face. And a girl in a devil costume hopping off the counter, adjusting the horns on her head. 

You made eye contact with Ellie, and she froze, only to quirk her slit brow at you, slowly gazing at your attire from top to bottom before reconnecting your eyes. You shivered, and she smirked. 

The demon girl snatched Ellie’s wrist to lead her out of the bathroom as Evelyn rushed in, barely shutting the door behind her. You held Ellie’s searing contact as she trailed behind the girl, nodding her head in greeting as she brushed past you, leaving the hallway. You turned towards Cleo, who’d been barricading the door for Evelyn, shaking her head at you with a knowing grin. You let out a quiet fuck you as she busted out laughing. 

Sometime in the night, you all scurried back to the dance for when First Day Out blasted through the speakers. You have zero recollection of what happened after you ran towards the packed dance floor(all your liquor body-slammed you at once!), but your tongue was shoved in Cleo’s mouth as she grinded on Evelyn, holding her by her thigh to pull her closer. She pulled away, licking your bottom lip as you both smiled before your hazy gaze traveled behind Evelyn, locking with the ones you were conflicted about seeing tonight. 

Ellie was smoking by herself, just watching you. You held her stare as you wrapped your arms around Cleo, drunkenly waving your hand to lure her over. She smirked around her blunt before shrugging, shaking her head no. You sent her a pout. 

“Ellie’s over there,” you bent down to talk in Cleo’s ear. 

She hummed in acknowledgment against your neck, “We’ll be alright. Go see her.” 

“You sure?” 

“Yeah, I got her,” She said in reference to a very drunk Evelyn screaming out YOU KNOW I BROUGHT MY KNIFE!

“Text me if anything happens, okay?” You demanded, and she nodded before encouragingly patting your ass. 

You unwrapped yourself from your friend, squeezing through the crowd until you reached a very… calm Ellie. She was leaning back with her head propped up against the wall, doing tricks with every exhale of smoke. You leaned up next to her, shoulder to shoulder. 

Neither of you said anything, but she held her blunt up to your face. You accepted, parting your lips to inhale the smoke as you watched the lit tip shine orange. You pulled away, leaving the remnants of your gloss behind, and breathed in before exhaling away from her. 

You watched as she pulled her phone out, slowly typing something out with one hand as she ripped from the blunt again. 

You felt your phone vibrate in your bra. 

You looked at her suspiciously before pulling it out, unlocking it to open the snap from Ellie.

e: cum upstairs? 

y: 😐

You turned to her and watched her smile before typing. You looked back down at your phone. 

e: lemme give u some imsorry head :(

y: 😐

e: pleek 

y: where

e: upstairs duh 

e: jesses gone 4 the weekend so ye

e: fuckin u in his room lol 

… Who the fuck is Jesse?

You didn’t get an opportunity to respond before you felt her grab your wrist, pulling you into the crowd. You couldn’t help but look up at her frame, loose strands of her ponytail falling out, her dangly earrings, her fucking shoulders, her neck moving every time she looked back to check on you. She looked so fucking good, fuck—

You felt a smack on your ass, and before you could turn to beat the fuck out of whoever it was, you caught your friends giggling at you. Cleo suddenly made her O-face as Evelyn pretended to hit it from the back before they started laughing at you again. You stared blankly at them. 

“Okay?” You heard Ellie say in your ear, lips brushing against yours. You only nodded before turning back to face her. 

You watched as she looked behind you before smiling and looking back down at you with a headshake. She turned and led you towards the staircase. 

She pulled open a door—Jesse’s, you guess— at the end of the hall. It was a bit messy, but you ignored it as she closed the door behind you. 

“Where’s Riley? I haven’t seen her at all,” you said as she looked at you. 

“Dunno.” She replied simply, ripping from her roach. 

“…You got bored quick,” You hoped she knew what you meant. 

“Mhm,” she said as she exhaled before stubbing it out on the dresser. 

And then silence. 

This is awkward. You hoped she would be ripping your halo off by now.  

“You look cute.” 

“You don’t,” you replied sharply. Fuck, yes she does, she always does. 

She snickered at you before kicking her chucks off, “That girl thought I did.” 

You’re going to strangle her. 

“Fuck you.” 

“You’re gonna,” she said as she stepped closer. 

“You’re a slut.” 

“I am,” Another step. She said with a slimy grin. “The dirtiest.” 

You hated how wet that made you. 

“Your friends are funny,” She said with another step, finally in your space as she spoke quietly. “And they’re hot.” 

“I know they are.” 

“Orgy?” She asked with a bright smile.

“Ellie, are we fucking or not? M’feet hurt,” you slurred out, rolling your eyes. 

“You look so good right now,” she said more to herself than to you, it seemed. She’d been so quiet, tone filled with awe. Your face ran hot. 

“Wanna kiss,” She said as she leaned forward. 

You placed a hand on her chest. “‘M not about to kiss you, you were just giving somebody head, like, an hour ago.” 

“So?” She said, grinning wider. 

“The fuck d’you mean so? That’s gross, Ellie.” you said with an agitated tone. 

“Wanna bend you over his dresser,” She said silkily, and it made you clench tight. “Missed you, y’know?” 

You didn’t reply as you looked at her skeptically. She didn’t care, grabbing you by your hips to pull you closer, bodies now flush against each other. She bent down to plant soft kisses on your neck. You would’ve complained, but her mouth felt so good, fuck.

“You wet enough?” She whispered out against your throat before sucking on the wet spot. You threw your arms around her neck, your knees buckling. 

“Gettin’ there, keep kissing me like that,” you breathed out in a shaky whisper. You felt her smile against you before licking over where she sucked. 

You felt her hands travel down to your ass, as she grabbed both cheeks tightly in both hands. You let out a breathy moan at her grip before you felt her slap a cheek, and then the other. 

“Take this shit off,” she whispered out as she hiked your dress over your hips. You pulled it over your head, tossing it near the bed along with your halo. 

“Fuck you, I spent time making this,” you said with a pout as she laughed softly. She grabbed your bare tits in her hands before sucking a nipple into her mouth. You moaned as you peered down to watch her flick it. 

She switched sides, sucking the hardened bud into her mouth while she hummed quietly. Your hips pressed against her.

“Prettiest fuckin’ tits,” She whispered against your breast. “Gonna fuck ‘em one day, I swear to god.” 

You moaned at her promise as you felt her slap your ass again before whispering a get over there, nodding towards the dresser. You scurried over as quickly as your heeled feet could manage, tits bouncing with every step. You leaned back against it with your hands propped up behind you as you watched her pull your halo from your discarded fabric. 

“Gotta keep this on,” she said as she walked over, dangling it between two fingers. “For… affect, and whatnot.” 

“Right.” 

“Mhm,” she said as she carefully placed it on your head. “Turn around.” 

You listened without question, and you were faced with your own reflection. Your wet nipples, your rising and falling chest, your wet thong. And her darkly looming behind you closely, all bloody and grinning. Another gush of wetness in your underwear. 

“You know what I think?” She said into your ear, meeting your eyes in the mirror. 

You hummed out questioningly. 

“We’d make a sexy cam-couple,” She whispered huskily as she licked your ear and you couldn’t stop squirming, pushing back on her as she grinded forward. “I could see it now: ‘slutty Scream murders cute angelic pussy’, we’d get paid so fuckin’ good.” 

“You’re stupid,” you shakily whispered out as she reached around to pull at your nipples. Your eyes fluttered shut as you leaned back against her, one hand reaching behind you to wrap around her neck while the other dug into her jean-covered thigh. 

She slapped your tits as she messily kissed your neck, sucking more bruises into the skin as she moaned against you. You felt one of her hands disappear from your tits, and before you could move to bring it back, you felt it grab the back of your neck to push you down against the dresser, arms falling in front of you in reflex. Your eyes tore open, and you were met with your sloppy-looking reflection. Lip gloss completely gone, eye-makeup smeared, sweated-out press sticking to your forehead(dammit!), and your halo lopsidedly hanging off your head. 

“Uh huh,” she muttered out as she watched you through the mirror, slowly thrusting her hips forward like she was fucking you and fuck, you wanted to fuck so bad. You hated how you instinctively pushed back on her, propping yourself up on your elbows. “Would make a sexy little pornstar.” 

“Fuck, El, ‘m so wet, c’mon, please! —” 

“Gonna baby, just lemme look at you,” she said back, and you whined, pushing back on her again. You wish she had her dick with her! 

“Make me cum, El, pleeease,” you whined out again, and you felt her slam a hot hand on your ass. You cried out as your cheek seared. 

You felt her slowly pull your panties to the side. You lifted your head to watch her through the mirror: her brows pulled down, her lip between her teeth, and she had the audacity to release a glob of spit on your pussy. You felt a gush of wetness leave you as it trailed down your pussy. 

“You’re so nasty,” you slurred out quietly. 

She reconnected your eyes in the mirror, and she grinned cunningly. You felt her free hand come up to run slow, deep circles on your slippery clit, and you moaned out as your eyes fluttered shut. You dropped your chin on the dresser in relief. 

“Cutest fuckin’ pussy, can tell she missed me,” you clenched tighter gushed wetter at her tone, your pussy screaming missed you so much, daddy! You could tell she noticed when she snickered out a small yeah, you did.

And then you felt her slide a finger in. Your jaw dropped as you gasped wetly, and you hated how she immediately found that spot that makes you scream. Your walls were gripping her finger tight tight tight—

“Fuck, angel, gonna gimme this pussy later?” 

“Fuck yes, ‘s yours!” 

“Yeah? Say it again,” and she dug her finger in deeper. 

“‘S your pussy, daddy, make me cum!” 

She gently pushed another finger in and she grinded them into you, barely pulling out. You hadn’t even noticed that the grip she had on your neck disappeared, her other hand reaching around you to massage your clit. You stayed bent over the dresser so she could hit it deeper, and fuck, she made you feel so good!

Your eyes were glued shut as you breathed and moaned out, but you felt her press kisses all over your ass, biting the cheeks. Your eyes fluttered open as she sat up, slowing down her fucking. She met your eyes to ask, “You ever get your ass fucked?” 

You barely reacted at her bluntness due to your hazy mind, but you shook your head no. She nodded as she pouted. She went back to fingering your cunt. 

“Mmh, you can if you w-wanna, when you take me home later, shit—“

“Who said I was takin’ you home? Hm?” She said and you heard the smirk in her voice. She pressed up against that spot harder as she slid another finger in. 

“Fuuuck!—“ 

“Yeah?” 

“Yes, baby, yesyesyes!—“

You watched her drop to her knees and felt her suck your clit in her mouth and your eyes rolled back and it was about to make you cum—

The sloppy noises of her sucking your pussy and the soppy sounds of her fingers inside you made you hotter, and you felt that burning feeling pulling in your gut.

“El, fuck, baby, I’m gonna— “ 

“C’mon angel, get me wet, want it all over my fuckin’ face— “ 

You couldn’t hear all the nasty shit she was muttering on your pussy as she fucked you through your nut, her lips taking your throbbing clit back in your mouth as she massaged that spot inside you. She was eating you like you were paying her for it and fuck you would if she asked. 

“Taste so fuckin’ good, no one tastes this good, what the fuck,” she said dazed. You knew she was watching your pussy twitch as you rode out the aftershocks on your orgasm, slowly fucking her fingers into you. 

You felt her stand up, slowly rubbing your clit as you calmed down, planting gentle, wet kisses onto your back. 

“You good?” She whispered against you, and you nodded against the desk. 

She chuckled gently, massaging your ass in both her hands before pressing a kiss on a cheek, “C’mon, we’re leaving.” 

You barely could catch your breath, “W’na dance, still.” 

“No, you don’t,” she said, licking up your spine. You felt her press her lips to your ear before she whispered. “Text your friends and tell ‘em we’re leaving. ‘M dropping them off so I can fuck this ass.” 

You shuddered. 

And nodded. 

And she cheesed wide. 

see yall inna week or so lol c:

[ms-demeanor]

I’ve been using browser password managers for a while now. How are these different from something like bitwarden besides not being open source and having the master password be the one tied to your [Google][Firefox][Apple] account? (I assume they’re insecure but I swear my infosec professor said the browser based ones were better. However he also said that’s because they were local to your device and I know that’s not true)

One problem with browser-based password managers is that you may not have access to your browser. If you're at your university library and using their computer to print from your google account, what do you do if they have chrome but not firefox? If your phone breaks while you're on a trip with friends do you install a browser on a friend's phone and log into your account to check funds in your bank account? What happens if you use firefox at home and on all your personal devices but work gives you a chromebook? Do you migrate all your passwords? Do you just never do anything personal on the work chromebook? Do you share some passwords between the two?

Another problem with browser-based password managers is that people's behavior when logging in to their browser is not the same as their behavior when logging in to, say, a social media site.

People don't always lock their screens. People put very sensitive information into their browser password manager and then walk away from their desk. People don't log out of their browser when someone else sits down to use their computer. My attitude is that if you are going to use a browser-based password manager, you should ONLY be logged-in to your browser when saving or accessing a password, because otherwise it means that your password manager is always on and always accessible.

I've got bitwarden set up to time out after fifteen minutes. The password manager I use for work kicks me out every hour. I set my phone screen to lock at two minutes and my desktop to lock after five minutes.

The idea that people are just walking around logged in to their phone browser and never locking the screen makes me crazy. The idea that people might be logging in to their browser on shared devices makes me crazy. But it describes how a lot of people use their browser-based password managers.

One thing that I *love* about Bitwarden is where I can choose to use it. If I want to keep it totally isolated and offline, I can. If I want to access it through a browser plugin or an app on my phone, I can. If I want to go to a webpage in any browser and log into my vault to get passwords, I can. It's extremely portable in a way that browser-based password managers (and honestly some paid app-based password managers) aren't.

Also yeah they aren't local to your device, they store the passwords with your account information. There are device local password managers but I personally do not tend to recommend them because I think that they don't really meet the needs of most users. Sometimes you have to log into your bank account when you're not at home and using a password manager that is only on one computer and nowhere else is going to make that impossible.

(there are use cases for device-linked password managers, and they aren't insecure, but if you set someone up with a password manager that they can only use on one device and then they can't use their passwords when they're out and about, they will not use the password manager - user behavior is a really important part of infosec that sometimes gets overlooked in favor of what is "THE MOST SECURE" - the most secure password manager is the one that someone will USE, so if all you can get someone to use is the browser password manager then that's a good password manager, however if I'm giving my recommendations for what I think is the most secure and works best for the greatest number of people, it's Bitwarden all the way baby!)

[chanaleah]

an personal narrative speech on israel i wrote for school

note that this was written for an audience who mostly doesn't know anything about Israel.

essay below if the images are not working for you/you have a screen reader

I was at Hebrew School, my legs against the cold plastic chair of the over-air conditioned synagogue basement, and I was bored. My eyes fell over the posters on the wall — the Rambam’s ladder of Tzedakah, common Hebrew words, and a large map, almost my size, of Israel.

I had looked at this map so many times, so many days. But I had never really looked at it. My eyes traced the coastline … Ashkelon, Ashdod, Tel Aviv, Haifa, Akko. In the center, Jerusalem. At the bottom, Eilat. And at the very top, the little tip wedged between Lebanon and the Golan, Kiryat Shmona. 

Israel is a small country, about the size of New Jersey, located in the Middle East. It borders the Mediterranean Sea and is home to almost 10 million people. It is the only country with a Jewish majority, but it also has large Arab and Druze minorities. Many holy sites for the main three Abrahamic religions — Judaism, Christianity, and Islam — are located in Israel.

As a kid growing up in the Jewish community, Israel was a common topic of conversation. We had Israelis come and visit us, a lot of us had family there, and most people we knew had visited Israel. We learned the Hebrew words for things like ice cream (glidah) and dog (kelev). We used the Hebrew pronunciation of words like hummus (huh-miss), which we said houmous (choo-moose).

We celebrated the new year of the trees in January (which doesn’t really make any sense in [redacted]) and we prayed for rain during services.

Really, whether or not we said it, we knew, we could feel, that everything we did… our prayers, our traditions, all traced back to Israel.

But here’s the weird thing… I’ve never been to Israel. I’ve never even really been close to Israel. I’ve never swum at the beach in Tel Aviv, never walked the cobblestone streets of Jerusalem, never felt the heat bearing down on me as I climbed Masada. I’ve never placed a folded up prayer in the Western Wall, never smelled the aromas of spices and herbs at a shuk, never read the ancient names on the graves at the Mount of Olives. And even though I’ve never stood on the grounds my ancestors stood on, put my hands where they did, and breathed the air they breathed, I can still feel these places. They’re in my DNA… literally. 

The traditions of the Jewish community connect me to my roots. When the kingdom of Judah, where Jews are from, located in modern day Israel, was taken over by the Romans, the Jews were forced out of our homeland, and we became dispersed throughout the word. As Rudy Rochman, an Israeli activist, says, Judaism “is a portable suitcase of a native people's identity that was created to preserve who they were after their forceful displacement from… Israel.” Every Jew throughout the world, no matter where we are; in the United States, Israel, or France, continues to carry this suitcase that connects us back to where we came from.

Today, when I celebrate Jewish holidays, I know there are people halfway around the world doing the same things I’m doing. They sing the same prayers, eat the same foods, and participate in the same traditions. They are all drawing from a suitcase that looks a lot like mine.

Today, about half of the world’s Jews live in the United States, and about half live in Israel. My traditions and culture connect me to all Jews, but my traditions also tie me to that land. I know that if I wanted to, or if I needed to, I could move to Israel. I could become a part of that country — the country I already love so much. 

But today, there are a lot of challenges with loving Israel — at least in the sense of the modern nation state. Currently, Israel is locked in a conflict with Palestine — a conflict you’ve probably heard about in the news — that has been going on for over a century. Today, neither Israel nor Palestine are completely innocent or guilty in this conflict. Israel, as much as I love it and feel connected to it, has done a lot of things I disagree with. And it’s hard for me to love Israel when I constantly see things in the news that make me facepalm, and when I know that the Israeli government is doing things I don’t agree with.

I love Israel. But love is complicated. It’s not black and white. I love Israel as my homeland, the place that birthed my people. And that love is paradoxical. I accept it as it is now, and I want it to get better. 

But now that I think about it, I realize that love means caring enough for something that you’re willing to work for it. Love means believing that peace, and a better future, is possible. Love means that a better way will be found. Because you don’t just walk away from something you love when it doesn’t meet your expectations.

So someday, I will go to Israel, and when I swim at the beach in Tel Aviv, walk the cobblestone streets of Jerusalem, and feel the heat bearing down on me as I climb Masada — I’m not going to be thinking about news headlines or military operations. I’m not going to be thinking about disappointment and failures. I’m going to be thinking about the three thousand years of history and tradition that led me back to the land of my ancestors.

[novaksupremacy]

The Veiled Law of Affection-Chapter 7

hey my lovelies, sorry this has taken me so long! I proofread but my brain is also mush post Calculus final. Chapter takes place surrounding the events of S6E1 "Birthright" It's probably also my longest chapter to date 😅😅 angst, cute fluff, svu case talk, and of course your precious smut 😜I promise your next fix (and some one shot Calex stuff) won't take as long.❤️

Pairing: Casey Novak x Olivia Benson

Word Count: 8955

by PKJ @novaksupremacy

Read Part 6    

     “Patricia Branson, 6 years old, guy tried kidnapping her in a park full of people.” The uniform on scene told Liv and Elliot as they followed him to the victim and her father.

            “Anybody see anything? Stabler asked.

            “Only description we got was a white guy in a baseball cap, bystander chased him, but he got away.” The Uni continued.

            Liv scribbled notes down furiously as they walked.

            Elliot pulled the dad off to the side so that Liv could talk to Patty. She sat down in the ambulance using a soft voice to question the little girl. She quickly realized this was not the first time the child had encountered her would-be abductor. The little girl had originally seen who Liv had deduced to be a young adult/ older teenager for the first time outside the grocery store when he offered to let her play with his puppy.

******

            Fin and Munch stood outside the sliding glass doors next to the electronic kiddie ride Patty had described and showed her picture to the grocery store manager.

            “Anybody every use that thing?” Finn asked.

            “Sure,” the manager said with a thick NY accent, “kids ride that thing all the time. You’ll have to ask my employees if they’ve seen the girl though.”

            “What about anyone strange hanging around?” Finn continued to question.

            The manager crinkled his mustache, “Does that include two guys in a blue van?”

            John shot a glance at his partner then back at the manager, “What’d they look like?”

            “Both white, middle aged guy and some teenager with a mutt in his lap. Last week, right by the front door, blocking all my deliveries. Called the cops, Arizona plates and the number. Nobody showed up.”

            “We’ve got a pair of pedophiles,” Finn lamented as they left the grocery store and crossed the street.

            “With their very own perv mobile.” Munch added as they opened the doors to the sedan.

            “SVU Portable I have your plate.” Dispatch said over the radio and proceeded to give information about a complaint made outside Patty Branson’s school.

            “Alright we’re on it,” Detective Tutuola radioed back and hopped into the car.

            As they drove to their next destination John turned to Finn, “Hey you think Liv and Casey joined one of those women’s safety boxing classes or something.”

            Finn contorted his face, “Man where do you come up with this stuff. What makes you think that?”

            Munch shrugged, “I don’t know they’re just always showing up at work with bruises lately. I thought maybe they took up boxing or something. Or maybe they’re going to the bar after work and not inviting us, hanging out with their secret boyfriends while we hang behind and do all the paperwork.”

            Fin did his best to stifle his laughter, “Look man, I will tell you both Benson AND Novak are both seeing someone. But unless they come in with a black eye one day, I’ll let you do your own detective work on the rest of it.”

******

            “Why Patty?” Elliot asked when they realized their mystery men have Patty’s routine down. The park she visits, her school, when she’ll be alone.

            “They’re obsessed.” Liv offered.

            Elliot looked up to see the van parked not far from them, “They’re here. Circle around and call for backup.”

            Fin and Munch pulled up alongside Benson and Stabler’s sedan and rolled down their window to get the briefing.

            “Watch the back of that van,” John said as one of the suspects jumped out, “The big boy, complete with red baseball cap.”

            Cragen and Fin approached the van and banged on the window.

            “It’s an IAB caper Captain” the suspect said to Cragen flashing his shield.

            “What’s todays color then,” Fin questioned.

            “Purple.”

            Fin cocked his gun aiming it at the suspect, “Wrong. Take the keys out the ignition and step out of the vehicle.”

            The man behind the wheel hit the gas rather than comply. Fin and Cragen turned their attention to the second suspect in the ball cap, while Liv and Elliot took off after the van. After a brief chase Elliot managed to overtake the van by rear ending it, they drew down as the driver stepped out and then apprehended him. Munch managed to cut off the second suspect in the other squad car just in time for Cragen and Fin to apprehend him as well.

******

            “Three THOUSAND dollars’ worth of damage to the car?” Cragen exclaimed.

            “What can I say boss, I zigged when I should’ve zagged.” Elliot shrugged.

            “Let’s find a way to send these guys the bill, I already don’t like them. They made me run.” Cragen threw the invoice on his desk. “What do we know about them so far.”

            “PI ticket pretty well known for reuniting kidnapped kids with their parents. The kids ticket is legit too.” Liv rattled off from her notes.

            “So, someone hired them to snatch Patty.” The captain queried.

            “Seems that way Cap. No one’s talking.”

            “Let’s find out who and why.”

******

            “Can my Mommy come in too?” Patty had tears coming down her face.

            “No honey it’s very important that you do this by yourself so we can get the bad guy.” Liv said sweetly to the little girl.

            Elliot bent down next to her, “Hey Patty is it okay if I pick you up.” She sniffled and nodded. Elliot scooped her up. “I want to show you something special. See this glass?” He walked around to the other side. “No one on this side can see you, its magic, protects you from the bad guys and then we can take care of the rest.”

            The perps made their way into the lineup room.

            “I’m scared of the boy with the four. He pulled my hair at the park.”

******

            After a positive ID on the younger perp and a few hours of grilling them, the older PI told them that Patty’s biological mother hired them to find her daughter. The detectives took a ride to the address that the suspects gave up and went to investigate. Michelle Osborn answered the door and weaved them a tale about how her daughter had been abducted from a car accident that caused the death of her husband. She showed them a facial aging print out that showed what her daughter might look like now, remarkably similar to Patty, along with the addition of the diabetes diagnoses. She also led them into her daughters room which she had updated to welcome home a now 6 year old little girl.

            Elliot placed cuffs on her as Liv spoke. “Michelle Osborne you’re under arrest for conspiracy to commit kidnapping.”

            On the way out of arraignment Casey ran to catch up with Liv, “Hey they said you were in a car accident. Why didn’t you call me? Are you okay?” the redhead said frantically scanning her girlfriend for any sign of bodily injury.

            “Baby I’m fine. I promise. It was barely a fender bender. We hit the back of the van chasing the PI’s. If anything, I’ll be a little sore tomorrow.”

            “Well, you’re definitely in for a massage later, but are you sure you’re alright?” There they were: the puppy dog eyes that melted any worry Liv ever had.

            “I promise, I gotta catch up with Huang, but hey.” She grabbed Casey’s hand. “Case, if something did happen, I have I card in my wallet saying you’re my emergency contact, and have you saved in my phone that way too.” She tugged on her girlfriends arm a bit before walking away. “I’ll see you later okay?” Casey watched until Liv disappeared into the crowd after catching up with Huang and getting on the elevator.

******

            It didn’t take Michelle Osborne more than a few hours to violate her order of protection.

            “You’re making a mistake!” Michelle shouted at Liv.

            “No Michelle, you are. I read the police report, you’re daughter died in that accident with your husband and now you’ve violated the order of protection and I have to take you to jail, and the judge is going to revoke your bond.”

            “She’s my daughter!”

            “We know everything Michelle, we saw the police report,” Liv shouted as she put the cuffs on, “We know Anna Osborn died with your husband in that accident.”

            “Hey look who I found,” the brunette heard her partner yell out from behind her, she turned to see Elliot standing next to a squad car with their new favorite PI in the backseat.

            “You guys just can’t take a hint,” Liv scoffed walking up to the window.

            “There’s a piece of paper in my breast pocket. Read and weep.” The perp retorted.

            Elliot reached in through the window and removed the piece of paper. “It’s a lab order with the DNA sample from Patty’s hair that they snatched at the park. Patty Branson is Michelle Osborne’s biological daughter.”

            The brunette looked at Elliot in shock, not sure that she heard him correctly.

            “Patty and Anna are not the same child,” Melinda explained to the detectives when they got back to the precinct, “I ran another test, and they are definitely siblings but not identical. I saw that Anna was conceived through in vitro. The only way this incident could’ve happened is if both women underwent in vitro with the same doctor at the same time and I’m gonna need that doctors name.”

******

            Casey walked into the stationhouse with two large cups of coffee. She placed one down on the desk next to Elliot, “Hey, where’s our girl.”

            “Thanks Novak,” he mock-groaned in appreciation and took a sip. “I don’t care what Liv says, you’re alright.” He smirked. “She’s in the crib.”

            The redhead walked in quietly, she saw Liv’s eyes closed but knew by her breathing she wasn’t asleep.

            “Casey when I open my eyes you better either be naked or have a very large cup of coffee.”

            Casey laughed, “How did you know it was me? And how did you know I was alone?”

            The brunette smiled, her eyes still closed. “I can smell your perfume, and because I’m a cop.”

            The ADA walked over and sat on the edge of the cot. “Did you get any sleep baby?” She kissed her head and brushed her hair away from her face.

            “No,” Liv pried her eyes open. “I’m too wound up.” She sat up on the edge of the bed next to her girlfriend and leaned her head on her shoulder as Casey handed her the cup of coffee. “You’re the best.”

            “Oh yeah? That’s not what Stabler said you’ve been saying.” The redhead giggled.

            “Stabler’s a gossip queen.”

            Munch walked passed the doorway and stopped, “You two tired from all those late nights of bar hopping with your secret boyfriends?”

            Liv picked her head up, “Our what?”

            “Have you been talking to Elliot,” Casey asked him. Liv turned her head towards her girlfriend in confusion, who shook her head. “I’ll explain later.” she sighed.

            “No, Fin said both of you were dating someone and I just wanted to say that I’m a little hurt that I’ve never been asked to hang out with the cool kids. I did used to own a bar in Baltimore. I’m a pretty fun guy.”

            Casey tilted her head as Liv buried her face in the redhead’s shoulder to stifle her laughter, “You’re right John, next time we go out with our secret boyfriends we’ll make sure to invite you.”

            “Thank you, that’s all I ask.” Munch said in complete sincerity. “All the involved parties are here by the way. Time to get to it.”

******

Casey and Liv walked into the conference room where they sat Michelle and the Branson’s on opposite ends of the table. Liv sat down between them in an attempt to mediate with them.

“It’s come to our attention,” the detective spoke softly “that both of you conceived by way of invitro fertilization. We’re going to need you to tell us the names of the doctors you used.”

“Dr. Stanley Norton.” Mrs. Branson sniffled, choking back a small sob.

“He was my doctor too.” Michelle admitted and hung her head.

Michelle’s lawyer, Counselor Emmett, added, “Both girls born at the same hospital, within weeks of each other”

Casey paced across the room “Somehow, Sarah got Michelle’s embryos.”

“How could this happen” Mr. Branson asked, the look on his face showing he still felt like all of this was surreal.

“Dr. Warner said it could be as simple as a mislabeled petri dish.” Liv offered.

Both mothers exchanged heartbreaking looks as Michelle began to break down in tears. “I’m so sorry for what I did. I’m so sorry.”

Sarah Branson turned to Casey “is it possible to have the order of protection removed?”

Casey shrugged, “You can petition the judge if that’s what you want.” It was clear in her expression she didn’t agree but she wasn’t allowed to just blurt that out.

Michelle’s lawyer spoke up, “I’d like you to reconsider the attempted kidnapping charge.”

“Your client was ordered to stay away from Patty Branson, and she ignored that order. She broke the law. I have to take her to trial.” The redhead stated flatly. Liv jerked her head and looked at her in shock as if she couldn’t believe what she had just said.

Casey heard her girlfriend call to her as she left the conference room. “Casey, you gotta plead her out.” Liv emoted as she closed the conference room door behind her.

The ADA furrowed her brow, “Why would I do that?” She turned and gave the detective time to catch up.

“Because what happened was a mistake,” Liv argued.

“Michelle was uncontrollably driven to kidnap someone else’s little girl.” She continued walking down the hall, the detective walking along side.

“Her little girl biologically.” Liv’s tone escalated as she stopped at the corner of the hallway.

Casey turned on her heel, “but not legally,” she spoke lower trying to stay calm and show Liv she cared. “I can’t let Michelle off the hook just because you feel guilty you didn’t believe her.” She turned back and continued to walk.

The detective’s face dropped as she wasn’t used to going toe to toe with Casey over a case since that first day. She took a breath and then followed behind, “well then give her a break cause she’s also a victim.” Casey stopped at her door and turned to face Liv while leaning against it. Liv crossed her arms and continued, “What that fertility doctor did to those two women is genetic rape.” Casey cast her eyes to the side afraid she’d cry if she continued to confront her girlfriend. “And don’t tell me that that doesn’t bother you on some level.”

The redhead turned her head and stared into Liv’s eyes, her own starting to water. She wanted to clap back at the cheap shot, but she was already lost in her girlfriend’s charm. Her face softened.

“Talk to the doctor,” she looked down at Liv’s lips longing to kiss her, “confirm what Michelle and the Branson’s say, and I’ll consider a deal.” She stared at the brunette for a minute.

The Detective looked back at Casey’s lips just as hungrily and then nodded.

The redheaded started to head into her office but looked back as Liv was walking away. “Hey.”

The brunette spun around, “Hey.”

“I’ll see you for dinner later, okay?” She gave Liv the puppy dog eyes.

“You got it.” The detective smiled softly and then turned the corner.

******

Shortly after a visit to the good doctor’s office, the detectives were in Casey’s office giving her the run down. Michelle had insisted she never signed the form consenting to egg donation. The doctor was insisting she did and probably just didn’t remember because seven years ago is a long time to remember such a minute detail. Liv could feel it in her bones that the evidence was pointing towards fraud on the doctor’s part. She just needed some help from the DA’s office to prove it.

Both X’s look the same to me.” Casey examined the photocopied paper her girlfriend handed her.

The brunette looked at her determined, “It’s a legal document, forgery is a crime.”

            “You don’t know that doctor forged anything.” The redhead sat, leaning back in her chair. Her face contorted in contest.

Elliot chimed in to play devil’s advocate, “Look, maybe its buyer’s remorse. Michelle did consent to donate her embryos, and now she’s sorry she did?” He turned his eyes towards Liv.

“That doctor pulled that story out of his ass!” She came around him to stand between him and Casey, “Come on Elliot!” she scolded, “He was making it up as he was telling it to us!” She shook her head in disgust.

“So, you think he’s lying. Michelle Osborne hired private detectives to kidnap a child. Why do you believe her?” The ADA squinted, tilting her head.

“Because Michelle Osborn has never lied to us about anything. Patty is her biological daughter.” The volume of Liv’s voice started to escalate as she spoke passionately.

            Casey crinkled her nose G-d damn she’s so sexy when she gets herself all worked up. Pull it together Novak, cold thoughts, you still have a job to do.

Elliot piped up interrupting Casey’s mental undressing of Liv, “So let Michelle and the Branson’s sue Norton for malpractice,” he suggested bluntly.

Liv sighed, getting exhausted of trying to explain her point, “But if he intentionally put one woman’s eggs into another without consent, we can’t just let him get away with it.”

“There’s no law against that in New York State,” Casey tried to iterate that despite what they were all feeling for both defendants and victims, she still had to prosecute by the letter of the law. “And we can’t charge him with larceny because stolen property has to have value, and body parts don’t.” she said pointedly.

            The brunette argued back as the redhead let out an exasperated sigh knowing her girlfriend wasn’t going to let this go. “In vitro costs tens of thousands of dollars a pop. If Norton misrepresented what he did and put that X on this form, then we have him on fraud and forgery. If he did it once before, you can bet that he’s done the same thing to other women.” Her jaw was starting to get tight.

            Casey looked up at her girlfriend, she knew when Olivia had a gut feeling like this, she was usually on to something, and she definitely wasn’t letting it go. She pulled Liv down onto her lap and wrapped her arms around her waist. “Okay,” she kissed her shoulder. She had no qualms about Elliot being in the room, she knew he was a safe person for them. “Now all we have to do is prove it.” 

            “Right,” Liv turned her head, to look at Casey, her body still facing Elliot. Casey’s touch brought her back down to a calmer state. “This consent form is a copy; you get us a warrant for the real one and we will.”

            The ADA smirked, “You know you’re very sexy when you have your investigation pants on.” She leaned her forehead against the brunette’s, rubbing her nose against her girlfriend’s.

            “Oh yeah, that working for you?” She nuzzled back.

            “Mhmm,” Casey blushed and bit her lip.

            Elliot cleared his throat loudly, “Still here ladies.”

            The two moved their faces away from each other and turned back towards him, “Ahem, sorry.” Casey nodded trying to put her serious voice on.

******

Norton scoffed as he sat in interrogation “I did nothing wrong.”

Kessler waved his hand towards his client “Say nothing else Stanley. My client made an error in judgement.”

“That’s an understatement,” Casey’s voice was dripping with sarcasm as Liv paced behind her.

“Michelle Osborne gave my client verbal permission to donate her embryos seven years ago. Dr Norton wrote the “X” on the form because he thought it would help her remember.” The litigator retorted, an ever-present smug tone in his voice.

The brunette detective was getting worked up “Oh she remembers alright; she remembers that she never consented.” She barked.

Kessler laughed incredulously, “And you believe her, after she tried to have a little girl kidnapped?”

Casey looked at him with a know-it-all grin, “Because of what Dr. Norton did to her, so we’re dropping those charges.” 

“Still her word against my client’s”

“And his employees.” The redhead countered, “We have signed, sworn statements that you routinely implant one woman’s genetic material into another.”

Doctor Norton looked Casey square in the eye and straightened his cufflinks. “All I’ve ever done is help infertile couples have children.”

Olivia curled her lip, glaring with abhorrence at the doctor. “All you’ve ever done is pad your bank account” she leaned over the table towards him.

Casey looked directly at the Doctors attorney, “You can be sure we’ll find out how many other women he’s victimized.”

Kessler scoffed, closing his briefcase. “How? You can’t subpoena privileged patient records.”

The ADA grinned, “Unless,” she placed the pads of her fingers down on the desk pointedly, “there’s evidence of an ongoing criminal conspiracy. That forged “x” on the consent form is all the ammunition I need to go before a judge.”

******

Casey was beaming, “We scored a clean sweep.” She said proudly walking into the squad room. Her eyes locked on Liv.

            “Oh yeah what’d we get?” The brunette joked as she fixed her coffee.

“Warrants and subpoenas for all of Dr. Norton’s in vitro patients, plus all surgical and cryopreservation logs.” The redhead smiled, dropping some files on the desk, and facing Liv and Elliott.

“Cryo what?” Stabler asked as if Casey was speaking a foreign language.

Casey chuckled, “Where egg, sperm, and embryos are frozen and stored,” she schooled him.

“Any of this make an impression on Dr Norton?” He grabbed one of the files Casey dropped off and thumbed through it.

“Nope guy still thinks he did a favor for the Branson’s.” The counselor sat down on the edge of Liv’s desk placing her hands on her knee, “Anyway, Sarah’s medical records have a notation that none of her eggs fertilized.” She discretely caressed her girlfriend's knee with her thumb. The brunette felt it between her legs.

“So, Norton just slipped her one of Michelle’s.” Elliot shrugged.

Casey nodded, mindless tracing little circles on Liv’s knee, just brushing against the start of her thigh.

Liv popped up off the desk as the redhead’s followed her, “Okay so we get him on a couple of counts of fraud, he loses his license and does some time.” It was taking all of her willpower not so slam herself up against Casey right there in the squad room. The way the ADA’s eyes glistened as she smoothly negotiated subpoenas and plea deals just did something for Liv that she never expected.

“Yeah, and all thanks to the persistence of a beautiful brunette detective from the one six.” Casey bit her lip, subtly linking the tips of her fingers with Liv’s. “Damn I need to get you home.”

Liv blushed; desire written all over her face.

Cragen walked up next to them with a distraught look on his face, “Two-two just called. They’re mobilized.”

“For What?” the brunette looked at him confused.

The captain put his hands in his pockets, “Patty.”

******

            Thankfully with the quick work of the SVU detectives they were able to find Patty pretty quickly with a sweep of Michelle Osborn’s house for some semblance of clues. The time and place on the back of a family photo indicated a beach house that Michelle owned. The detectives swiftly mobilized there to find Michelle and Patty. Liv was heartbroken when she learned that Michelle misled Patty by saying her parents didn’t want her. 

*****

“You have to do something, babe.” Olivia took a sip of her wine leaning over the island at Casey’s.

            The redhead scoffed, “I thought you wanted me to plead her out? I can’t keep changing course based on your emotions.” She stared at Liv in disbelief.

            The brunette sighed and placed her glass down, “I know what I said earlier but Michelle is terrorizing this little girl. Patty Branson is a distraught six-year-old who doesn’t understand why this woman is trying to rip her away from her family and I feel for Michelle but she’s making it so much worse.”

            The ADA took her hand across the counter and ran the pad of her thumb across it, “You know that your huge heart is one of the things I find most attractive about you, right? I just have to make sure I don’t get my ass chewed out by Branch for letting that beautiful heart cloud my judgement.” She brought her girlfriends hand up to her lips and kissed across the detective’s knuckles. She glanced up at Liv, cocking her eyebrow, “is this helping make up for the fact that we argued earlier?”

            “Casey,” Olivia sighed.

            The redhead frowned, “Hey I’m sorry, I was just trying to do my job.”

            Olivia smiled and held Casey’s hand between her own, “No that’s not what I was getting at.” she chuckled. “What I was going to say,” she rubbed her girlfriend's hand soothingly, “is we’re not always going to agree on work. We may even shout out each other from time to time, but I promise never to go to bed angry at you as long as you’ll have me.”

She stood up and leaned in to delicately kiss the ADA, “and I promise to always have dinner waiting for you, even if its leftovers in the microwave.”

The redhead giggled into the kiss and draped her arms around Liv’s neck. “And I will always be grateful for that, Detective.” Liv stood up straight pulling Casey out of her chair and grabbing her legs, wrapping them around her waist, and placing her on the counter. The brunette started nibbling and kissing down her lover's jaw and then her neck. “Mmm,” the redhead sighed, “you are so wonderful.” She ran her hands through Liv’s hair.

The detective chuckled, “Mmm, I’ll remember that next time we fight.” Casey laughed and pressed her palm against the brunette’s cheek, nipping at her lower lip and then kissing her. Liv raised her eyebrow and flashed a grin, “thanks for making this easy for me.” She ran her fingers up Casey’s bare thighs and up under the skirt she was wearing. She pushed it up and pulled the redhead to the edge of the counter, sliding her hand up the attorney’s inner thigh. She gasped as she made her way to Casey’s center, she leaned in to kiss her neck. “Assistant District Attorney Casey Novak, have you not been wearing any underwear all day?” 

The redhead smiled deviously, her hand on the back of Liv’s head holding her to her neck, “Mmmm, well, Detective, if we hadn’t argued, I had planned on pulling you into the bathroom of the courthouse, or my office, or the backseat of a taxi.” She giggled.

“Babe!” Liv looked at the younger woman in shock. “Getting adventurous?”

“Mmm maybe a little bit. It’s hard to control myself around you. Do you know how many times when you’re getting heated about a case, I just want to bend you over your own desk?”

The brunette pulled back and looked Casey in the eyes, her own glossed over, pupils dilated. “I really do that much to you?”

The redhead bit her lip and then nodded. “You, Olivia Benson, make me crazy.”

Liv took this opportunity to slide her middle finger into Casey’s heat causing her breath to hitch.

“Fuck.” The ADA exhaled. She spread her legs slightly allowing her girlfriend more access, who then slipped another finger in. Casey gasped again, “Liv.”

The detective toyed with her lover, slowly playing with her arousal, watching Casey whimper with each movement. “Feels good, Daddy?”

Casey let out a moan, “Ohhhh, feels really good baby.”

Liv pushed the redhead’s skirt up further and laid her back across the counter. She brought her mouth down to Casey’s heat, lapping up everything she’d already spilled from her lover, and then brought her tongue up to her clit. When she did this, Casey’s head shot up as heavy sighs fell from her lips. The ADA tangling her fingers in Liv’s hair pulling her tighter to her body. “Hey baby I need you to do me a favor,” the brunette whispered, “can you spell my name for me?” She kissed down on her clit, a few quick swipes of the tongue.

Casey was panting hard, but what Liv asked of her caught her off guard. “What?”

Liv kissed her clit again and continued to do so between each word. “Spell. My. Name. Please. Humor me Casey.”

The redhead quirked her brow, still confused about why they were having a strange conversation right this minute. She decided to oblige. “O—”

As she did Liv pressed down on her girlfriend's clit, tracing the letter “O” across it with the tip of her tongue.

“Mmmm,” Casey inhaled sharply as she caught on. “L—” she whispered. “I—” she was whimpering and panting softly trying hard to concentrate “V—.” “I—oh god baby I, I’m gonna.” Her breathing was getting shallow, “A—” she could barely keep still, she was almost there, she tangled her fingers tighter in her lover's hair pulling her closer as she started over. “O—” that was all it took, “Oh, Oh, Ohhhh!” Casey let go, an orgasm surging through her body, coming hard as Liv lapped it up, humming and moaning with delight.

“Mmm, Casey do you know how fucking good you taste?” The brunette wiped the corners of her mouth and licked her fingers.

Casey sat up trying to catch her breath. “Detective if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were trying keep me around for a while,” she chuckled.

“Mmm maybe just for a little while,” Liv grinned as she kissed the redhead sultrily.

“That’s it, you’re in for it. Bedroom, now.” She hopped down off the counter and took the brunette by the hand leading her to the bed, pushing her back onto the mattress. Casey was in nothing but her bra before Liv could blink. She straddled the brunette and unbuckled Liv’s belt. “Wanna see a new trick I learned?” She bit her lip, smiling mischievously.

Liv looked at her lover surprised, “You have tricks I don’t know yet Counselor?”

The redhead giggled, “I got bored in my office the other day.” She pulled Liv’s belt off her pants and began to loop it around itself a few times and then held out a hand reaching for Liv’s. Liv furrowed her brow but cautiously gave the ADA her hands. Casey slipped the belt over the detective's hands and then pulled the end of the strap tight with her teeth.

“Is, is that okay?” Casey asked to check in, making sure Liv was good with what she was doing since it was new for them.

“Oh, that was,” Liv gasped with surprise, “impressive.” If she wasn’t soaked in arousal before she was now.

“You like that?” Casey asked with her eyebrow raised and her troublemaker grin. She brought Liv’s arms over her head and hooked the belt to the headboard. “Don’t move,” she scolded and brought her mouth down to her girlfriend's ear. “Be a good girl for Daddy.” She whispered and bit down into the side of the brunette’s neck.

“Oh, Casey,” Liv mewled, “Oh, baby mmm” She wanted to feel Casey’s skin, dig her nails into her back. Each struggle against her restraints made her throb, the leather rubbing against her wrists driving her wild.

The ADA was taking her time, sucking deep bruises into her lover’s neck. “Keep still baby,” she cooed, “I’m just getting started.” After she finished marking up Liv’s neck, she turned her attention downward. She unbuttoned Liv’s shirt one button at a time and threw it open, bringing her mouth down to tease the brunette’s nipples. She pulled each one into her mouth, wrapping her tongue around it and grazing it softly with her teeth, letting them go with a pop. She continued to roll and pinch them between her fingers as she kissed down the detective’s stomach.

“Fuck Casey,” Liv’s soft pants made the redhead simper. She tried to wriggle against the restraints again causing her to moan loudly. “Don’t tease.”

“Detective, you better stop resisting.” Casey joked as she shimmied her girlfriend’s pants down and then tossed them to the floor and then settled between her legs. “Mmm, baby you are so fucking wet. It might take me hours to clean all this up.” She taunted as she ran her tongue through the brunette’s folds. “Olivia,” the ADA whimpered, “G-d you taste so amazing.” She plunged her tongue into Liv’s core, gently fucking her, moaning as Liv’s nectars dripped down her chin.

“Oh Fuck!” the brunette cried out, pulling against her cuffs, her hips bucking towards the redhead's face.

Casey pulled her tighter, the tip of her tongue brushing against Liv’s g-spot driving her wild. She moaned against the brunette’s center, sending vibrations up her body.

“Mmmm Casey,” Liv whined, “Mmm Daddy, don’t stop.” her breath ragged. “Oh G-d, Oh G-d.” Her eyes rolled back as she pulled against the restraints, her body tightened as her walls contracted and she came on Casey’s tongue.

The ADA moaned loudly into Liv as she felt her let go, her mouth filling with her girlfriend's sweet juices. She pumped her tongue slowly as the brunette came down and then licked her clean. She ran her tongue across her lips as she looked up at her girlfriend smiling, kissing her thighs, and resting her head against one for a moment. The redhead brought herself back up and kissed Liv, sliding her tongue into her mouth, savoring the moment, and holding her thumb and fingers to the brunette's chin.

“You are such a good, good girl.” Casey kissed her again lightly and nibbled down her neck as she undid the restraints. She kissed Liv’s wrists and then laid against her as Liv wrapped her arms around the attorney.

“God, you are so fucking sexy.” Liv kissed Casey on her temple and then traced soft circles across her smooth skin.

******

Casey headed down to the jail to confront Michelle Osborne about her most recent kidnapping attempt.

“You can’t kidnap your own daughter.” Hissed as she was led towards the interrogation cell by one of the Riker’s guards. Struggling to turn her head to look Casey in the eyes.

 “The law says she isn’t yours.” The redhead argued, her patience with Michelle had long run out.

“Well, the law is wrong.” Michelle sat down on the bench in the cell, as everyone filed in and followed suit.

Emmett tossed her briefcase on to the table, “We should just forget about the law and focus on what’s right.”

Casey couldn’t help but laugh, “What’s right is for your client to accept that she has no claim to patty. You’re a victim Michelle we can take that into consideration.”

“How much consideration?” her lawyer queried.

“We’re still willing to make an offer, Michelle will have to serve three to five and get counseling.” The redhead stated, staring blankly waiting for a response.

“No thank you.” Michelle shook her head in protest.

“If you go to trial and get convicted. You’re looking at fifteen years in prison.” Casey was in disbelief.

“I’ll be acquitted, then I’ll sue for custody.” Michelle stated haughtily.

“Are you kidding me?” the ADA turned to the counselor, “This isn’t your idea, is it? It’ll never work.”

“I have to try.” The defendant whispered with determination.

“You can’t!” Michelle turned to see this exclaim come from Sarah Branson who was standing a few feet away from the cell with Olivia in tow.

Casey stood up in shock and looked towards Sarah Branson who had just walked in, and then to Olivia who had clearly brought her. “Why did you bring her here?”

Liv looked at Casey reassuringly, “Because she wanted to come.”

Sarah Branson was sobbing “I know you lost your daughter, but can’t you see what you’re doing to Patty? Please, a mother wouldn’t do this to any child.” She pleaded with tears in her eyes.

******

“Look I’m not mad babe, I’m just saying a little heads up with you were bringing her to the jail would’ve been nice.” Casey said as the two women stepped on the train. They both reached for the center pole, opting to stand. Liv wrapped her arm around the redhead’s waist holding her tight to her as the train started.

“You’re right Case, I’m sorry.” Liv frowned, “I promise to work on communicating.”

“Just pretend we’re in bed, you communicate great there.” Casey teased, smirking, eyeing her girlfriend up and down until she realized an old man glaring at her from one of the nearby seats. “Sorry.” She cleared her throat.

The brunette giggled. “I’ll take that into consideration.”

The got off at their stop and walked down off the platform, “Coffee?” Liv grabbed the ADAs hand and laced their fingers together. The redhead blushed a little, the feeling that Liv wasn’t afraid to be seen with her filling her with butterflies.

“Maybe on the way back?” Casey mused, “I just want to be able to think straight again.” She shook her head realizing her phrasing, “I mean, I need to concentrate.”

Liv reached around the redhead to ring the doorbell of the Stabler house. The door opened and the two women were greeted by a very confused Kathy Stabler.

“Liv! Hi. and—” she scrunched up her face trying to figure out who Casey was and what she and Oliva were doing there. She looked familiar but they had never been properly introduced.

“Oh, hey Kathy, it’s nice to meet you, I’m the SVU ADA Casey Novak.” She let go of Liv’s hand to extend it to the blonde in the doorway.

Kathy’s eyes followed her hand and shook it, still looking puzzled until she glanced at Liv and then back at Casey and it clicked. “Oh, OH right hi! Genuinely nice to meet you! You need to talk to Elliot? He’s at the park with the twins. It’s three blocks that way and two blocks right.” she pointed down the street.

“Not me, just Casey here.” The brunette stated and placed her hand on the small of her girlfriend’s back.

“Ah well in that case, Liv why don’t you come in for a cup of coffee.” Kathy motioned towards herself. “Seems like we have some catching up to do.”

The detective glanced at her lover, “You gonna be okay on your own?”

“Yeah babe, stay, have coffee. I think we all know I can handle Elliot.” She chuckled nervously. She gave Liv a quick kiss and headed off down the block.

Liv and Kathy moved to the kitchen as Elliot’s wife poured them both a cup of coffee. “So,” Kathy looked at Liv, “I’m guessing that’s my husband’s new softball friend and the reason you’re wearing a turtleneck?”

The brunette snorted into her coffee and her face went flush. “Yeah, that’s Casey. She’s the best thing that could’ve happened to me.”

“I’ve gotta say I’ve never seen you so— open, with anyone before. It’s refreshing. Do you love her?” the blonde asked sitting down at the table.

Liv followed suit and took a sip of her coffee, “I want to. I just don’t know if I’m ready to say it yet.”

“Boy, you and Elliot really are two sides of the same coin,” Kathy laughed, “took him forever to say it, even though now he’ll admit he always knew. You know, I used to worry about you two. He’d confide in my why I didn’t need to and how he was the only one who knew about it so of course I just thought it was an excuse” she rambled as she took another sip, “but,” she paused. “I’ve never seen you look at my husband the way you looked at her on my porch.”

*****

“Hey Dad, who’s that lady staring at us?” Lizzie asked as Elliot picked up the basketball, trying to explain to Dickie why hogging the ball would end up hurting his game eventually.

Casey was leaned up against the chain link fence at the park entrance. Her thumbs hooked through the belt loops on her jeans.

“Afternoon” Elliot smiled, confused.

“Yeah, your wife said I could find you here.” The redhead smiled.

“Dickie, Elizabeth, this is Ms. Novak. We work together.” He tussled his children’s hair and introduced them to his friend.

“You guys look like a couple of pros out there,” she approached the detective and the twins on the blacktop.

“Yeah, so go practice, and no hogging the ball.” He tossed them the ball as he and Casey stepped off to the side, “Let me guess, you just happened to find yourself on the ass end of Queens?”

“Michelle Osborne trial prep. I need a reality check.” She nodded, looking for some time of reassurance.

“Okay for what? Wait, Kathy told you I was here? You got Kathy to tell you a female she’s never met, my location?”

She shot him a look of c’mon Elliot, I radiate non-threatening LGBT energy.

A light bulb went off in his head, “You brought Liv, didn’t you? And she’s uhm.” He motioned his finger up and down his neck.

“See I knew you’d get there.” She crinkled her nose teasingly.

“Okay so about what?” Elliot asked jumping back to the original topic.

“There’s no way to win it.” The redhead stated, hoping Elliot would either bluntly tell her she was right or help her find a work around.

“You got her cold on the evidence.” Stabler shrugged as he headed towards the fence.

Casey shook her head, “Defense has already won the jury. Once they hear about what happened to Michelle, no one’s gonna care about evidence.”

“Are you worried about losing this case?” Elliot bent down by the fence to pick up his towel. “Or are you having second thoughts.”

The ADA stopped, turning to face him. “I don’t think the law can do anyone justice in this case.”

Elliot mopped his brow, “Are you just figuring that out now?” He sat down with his back against the fence.

“Michelle gets convicted; she goes to prison.” She tried to work out the conundrum out loud, “If Michelle gets acquitted, she’ll never let go of Patty and there will be no end to this.” Her voice got somber, “Either way, somebody loses.”

“Right.” Elliot looked up at her, his voice softer than usual, “What’s the question?”

Casey thought hard, finding it hard to articulate what she was thinking. She chewed on her lip, sighed, and sat down on the ground next to him. “If you found out you had another kid out there, would you want it?” She asked Elliot with genuine curiosity.

“Damn right I would.” The detective nodded.

“So, you know why she’s obsessed.”

“It’s not an obsession,” he shook his head, “it’s a love. It’s a connection that transcends everything and anything.”

Casey studied his face, now she realized how he could be so gruff but also so good with children. He was a good father, a good man. She smiled, thankful for his friendship as she continued to listen.

“I would die for my children and nothin’ in this world that would ever change that. Ever.” Elliot beamed with pride as he spoke.

The young ADA furrowed her brow in concern, “So Michelle and Sarah will never stop fighting over Patty.” She smiled but it was a sullen smile, full of sadness.

Elliot looked down thoughtfully, took a breath and began to recite from the bible, “And King Solomon said, “Bring me a sword. Divide the living child in two. Give half to one and half to the other.”

“Except I can’t split the baby.” The redhead said, her voice low, melancholy.

Stabler grinned, imparting a small modicum of wisdom on his friend, “Solomon didn’t have to.”

Casey looked at him puzzled and then it clicked, she grinned. “Thanks Elliot, I’m gonna go get Liv and make sure she hasn’t told your wife anything embarrassing about me yet.” She blushed and headed back down the street. Elliot took a sip of water and waved her off and then headed back to the twins.

*****

The redhead stood in front of her dresser, taking her watch off and placing it in her jewelry box, “I don’t think I can do this.” She sighed.

Liv could hear the stress in her voice, “What do you mean, honey? I thought you and Elliot came up with a plan. He had “sage advice” you said, which I gotta say I wouldn’t expect someone to say about Elliot as much as I love him.”

Casey gave her a look, “Normally I would agree with you but in this case he was right. However, that also means I essentially have to bully a child on the witness stand. Sure, it’s for the greater good, but hasn’t she been through enough? I mean people already think I’m a bitch, I’m going to look exceptionally cruel tomorrow.”

“Hey,” Liv ran her hands down her girlfriend's arms and took her by the hands. “you’re doing what’s best for that little girl. She’ll understand one day and anyone worth their smarts will see what you’re doing. You’re going to be brilliant; you always are.” She tugged Casey closer and kissed her, “Come to bed baby, you need to rest.”

The redhead threw on one of Liv’s old PD shirts and some sleep shorts. “I hate this,” she mumbled as she turned down her side of the bed. “I feel sick.” She rubbed the moisturizer on the nightstand onto her hands and neck before climbing into bed.

Liv held out her arm for Casey to cuddle up against her, who happily snuggled in, “What if I wanted to hold you tonight?” she joked.

“Tough, come here.” The brunette kissed her girlfriends head and held her close. She ran her fingertips slowly up and down Casey’s arm and closed her eyes.

Casey couldn’t sleep. She stared at the ceiling fan for hours, her only comfort was the sound of Liv’s heartbeat and the rise and fall of her chest as she slept peacefully. She had no idea how she was going to make it through tomorrow. Before she knew it there was daylight peeking through the window.

*******

Casey looked down at the little girl in the witness box, “Patty do you see the person who took you from the museum?

“Yes” the small child pointed to Michelle, “she’s over there.”

The ADA turned to the court stenographer, “Let the record show that she’s indicated defendant Michelle Osborne.” She turned back towards Patty, “So why did you go with her, Patty?”

“She said she had to take me to my mommy.” The child fidgeted with her hands.

“Where did she take you?” The redhead asked flatly trying to keep her tone easy for Patty to understand.

 “To her house. Mommy wasn’t there.” Patty said sadly.

Casey turned back towards Michelle, “Did you ask her where Mommy was?”

“Yes Michelle said she’s my real mommy. My egg mommy.” The little girl was physically upset.

“Did she tell you what that means?” The ADA continued her questioning even though she could feel the knot building in her stomach.

 “She said I came out of mommy’s tummy but the egg that I came from came from her tummy.” Even though Patty was distraught it was still clear she was extremely intelligent for a six-year-old.

Casey stammered silently for a moment trying to prepare herself for what she needed to do. Her insides were twisted, she wished she had a moment to glance at Liv. She knew if she could just see her, she’d feel better and know she was doing the right thing. “What did you do while at Michelles house, Patty?

Patty shrugged, “Watched TV, played with toys.”

“Do you think Michelle is nice?” The counselor inquired.

Patty shrugged again, “She’s okay.”

The redhead leaned down to get eye level, “You know what Michelle said about being your egg mommy is true right?” Casey took a deep breath, “Your Honor?”

Judge Bradley looked at the small child sympathetically, “Please answer the question, Patty.”

“No! It’s not true.” The little girl began to sob.

“Yes, it is Patty.” Casey’s voice had now become stern, confrontational. Come on Novak, don’t lose it, DO NOT throw up.

“Michelle’s not my mommy!” Patty sobbed, sweet innocent tears, breaking Casey’s heart.

 “You came from her egg, that is true.” The ADA corrected, almost fussing.

Michelle looked towards Sarah Branson, tears welling in her eyes.

“I want to go now.” Patty cried, big tears rolling down her face.

 “No, you can’t until we’re finished!” Casey scolded. She needed this to be over before she tossed her cookies. Sarah Branson began weeping from the gallery.

“I don’t want to go with Michelle.” The little girl continued to sob.

Emmet slammed her hand on the defense table. “Your honor she’s just a little girl!”

“Is this line of questioning really necessary?” Judge Bradley empathized.

“Patty, do you understand?” Casey pushed, she hated herself for this.

Patty was in hysterics at this point, “I don’t want to go with Michelle!”

“You don’t have to Patty—Not yet.” The redhead’s volume was elevated, her voice echoing throughout the courtroom.

“I want my mommy and daddy!” Patty shouted.

“No, you have to stay here!” The ADA remained stern.

Patty turned towards Michelle, “Please! Don’t take me away, please!”

Michelle stood up and shouted, “Stop! Just stop it.”

“Sit down!” The judge ordered Michelle.

“Patty I’m sorry,” Michelle wept, struggling to get words out, “I won’t ever bother you again.”

Patty ran to her parents, Casey stayed facing the witness stand breathing a silent sigh of relief that her and Elliot’s plan worked.

Michelle pleaded with the judge, “Ill please guilty if that’s what it takes. Just leave Patty alone.”

Casey closed her eyes, trying not to let the emotion leak out of her face till she got out of the courtroom. As soon as everyone one was adjourned the ADA made a dash for the bathroom. The room was spinning but she tried to splash some water on her face and take some deep breaths. She heard the door creak open, but she couldn’t even look up from the sink to see it was Liv. The brunette rushed and grabbed her from the side, she turned into her.

“Hey, hey baby I got you. It’s okay, you did great. Patty gets to go home with her parents. You did it babe. Shhh, shhh” Liv cooed softly trying to calm Casey down who was actively hyperventilating. “Hey Case, Case listen, match my breathing. Deep breaths.”

The redhead did her best to time her breathing to match Olivia’s until she was calm again. She squeezed herself tight against Liv. “Thank you for being here.”

“I’ll be here for you whenever you need me.” The detective held Casey’s head tight against her chest.

“Well then you’ll just have to always be here.” The ADA chuckled.

They walked to the squad room, Casey putting her briefcase down and handing a file to Elliot. “Michelle plead out to custodial interference. Her sentence was set aside, and she said she was going to move out of state because it was too hard to be around Patty.”

Elliot gave Casey a half smile and a knowing nod, “She did the right thing, loving her enough to let her go. I knew you’d figure it out.”

            Casey nudged Elliot.

            Cragen shook his head, “The damage is already done. That little girl's relationship with her parents will never be the same now that everyone knows the truth.”

            Casey sighed in agreement, “Law has to catch up with technology. When Patty’s 18 she has the right to make her own choice on whether or not she wants to contact Michelle, like in an open adoption.”

            Liv came around to meet everyone, “I finished the audit on Dr Norton’s clinic, turns out Michelle had sixteen embryos, ten of which were implanted in other women.”

            “How many live births?” Elliot asked quietly.

            “Besides Patty, Michelle has two daughters and a son out there.”

            Casey hung her head, they may have put a band aid over this, but it was far from solved. She stretched her neck to the side, Liv was quiet.

            Casey walked up and leaned against her side, looping her arm through her girlfriends, while the squad knew they still had to be careful about holding hands at the precinct. “Hey, what do you say we get a big bottle of wine and go back to my place. It’s been a day.”

Liv looked up “That sounds perfect.”

They started for the exit, “I still owe you that massage.” Casey smirked.

“You can give it to me while your body’s wrapped around me in that big bathtub you’re always bragging about.” Liv lightly hip checked her girlfriend.

Cragen looked at Elliot, “Do…do they think we can’t hear them?” he raised his brows.

“Captain, I think,” he paused, “when those two look at each other, they forget we exist.” Stabler folded his arms as he and Cragen watched them walk out the door.

[avastrasposts]

The Pilot and his Girl - ch. 17 **

Not much to say about this chapter, we're going deeper into the QZ with our sweet Frankie and his girl, some complications arise and they get some news about their friends. I hope you enjoy! Please reblog and comment if you like it, I love hearing your thoughts!

Series master list

Warnings contains spoiler, but please read if you need to because this series will contain some difficult subjects.

Word count: 9.1k

Chapter 18

Time in the quarantine area moves slowly. Once you’ve figured out the routine of showering early in the morning, before the water runs out, and when the best time is to collect your rations for the day, there’s not much else going on. Frankie gets extra rations, as promised by the captain who vetted him, and he shares them with you, even trading some of his rations to get you a chocolate bar which he hands over with a happy grin. The food rations are small and you don’t know if it’s because there’s not enough food, or because they’re just not prepared to feed you much.

You sometimes talk to the woman who has the bunk bed across from you in tent five, her name is Annie, and she’s come from the QZ in Austin, she’s been transferred over to Franklin because she’s a nurse. She tells you the military in the Austin QZ always had enough food but made sure the population only had just enough to not starve.

“They said it’s because they don’t know when food production will be up and running again, it all depends on when they find a cure for this infection.” 

“Are they getting close?” you ask as you light the small portable gas stove in the tent and heat up yours and Frankie’s rations, two bags of freeze dried chicken alfredo from a hiking food supplier.  

“I don’t know,” she sighs, “there are so many rumors going around, no one seems to know for sure what they’re doing.” She kneels next to you, putting her own rations on the stove. “And of course, so many people were lost in the first few weeks, before we really understood what was going on. A nurse came to Austin from Seattle, she’d been transferred to us because she specialized in anesthesiology and we still had supplies and equipment for that. She thinks the first outbreak was at the Lakehill Seattle Hospital where she worked. She was called into work on Thursday morning but when she got there she was told to go home, the hospital had already put itself in quarantine.” Annie stirred the plastic spoon through her soup as you pull your chicken alfredo off the stove. “That was twenty four hours before the rest of the country started noticing anything and the hospital lost almost all of their staff in that time.” 

“When you were in Austin, did you ever run into a couple of brothers called Joel and Tommy Miller?” you ask. “Joel has a daughter called Sarah. All three of them are from Austin.” 

“I think I met a guy called Tommy Miller just before I left, a blonde guy in his thirties?” Annie asks. 

“Yeah, that’s right.” you nod, smiling at Frankie as he walks into the tent and over to the stove. 

“Hey, cariño,” he says as he sinks down on a crate next to you, dropping a quick kiss on the top of your head. 

“I think Tommy had a brother in the QZ, but I never met him, and I don’t know about a girl.” Annie shakes her head as you pass the bowl of pasta to Frankie. 

“That reminds me, Annie, do you know if there’s any way of looking for people inside the QZ, once we’re out of quarantine?” 

“In Austin there was a notice board in the administration center, people put signs up, they might have something similar here.” 

“I hope so,” you sigh and Frankie reaches over and squeezes your hand, “we have friends and family we haven’t heard anything from since the outbreak.” 

Annie looks over at you both before she drops her gaze back to the stove and her rations, “Don’t get your hopes up, most of us never find anyone again.” Her voice is laced with grief and you don’t ask her anything more. 

Frankie and you eat your rations in silence as you lean closer to his solid shoulder, resting your head against it. When you’re both done he pulls you down onto the narrow bunk bed, his back against the rest of the tent and you tucked in under his arm under the blanket. It’s the only way you can have some privacy in the tent and you relish the time you have with him like this before you both drift off to sleep. Frankie lets his fingers trace small circles on your skin, soothing you as much as it calms him too. Sometimes you talk in whispers, mostly about how you’re going to navigate this new world, but sometimes about your life before the outbreak. Frankie makes you giggle in hushed tones when he re-tells the story of how he first spotted you across the bar, how Pope had pretended he was going to go up to you if Frankie didn’t have the balls to do it, the guys comments when they first spotted you. It makes your heart ache, remembering the four of them huddled at the corner of the bar, all except Frankie, grinning at you. Frankie with his embarrassed smile trying to hide under the bill of his cap as he fiddled with his drink. 

“I know I turned you down when you asked for my number, but I regretted it almost straight away,” you admit, “you looked so shy and sweet when you went back to the guys.” 

“You broke my heart in two seconds, cariño,” You can hear the smile in his voice even though he’s whispering. “Not even Pope wanted to rib me about it when I got back to them, I still don’t know how I could fall so fast for you,” his arm tightens around you, “your smile got me straight away.” 

You giggle softly, turning your head so that you can reach his mouth with your lips. “For me it was the way you rubbed the back of your neck when you got shy, those big, puppy eyes looking all lost and sad, I couldn’t resist.” 

“If I’d known I would've used them more,” Frankie chuckles as his lips brush over yours. “Go to sleep now, hermosa, only two more days in here.” 

The next morning you wake up before Frankie for once, he’s tucked in against you, snoring lightly in such a deep sleep you don’t have the heart to wake him. He’d woken you up a couple of times in the night when his nightmares got the better of him, and you know it took him a while to get back to sleep. Gently you slip from under his arm and climb out of the bunk, pulling on your boots and a hoodie. Since you’d arrived with only one change of clothes you’d been given some spare clothes, including a bright orange hoodie that made you feel like a traffic cone. You make your way over to the communal bathrooms and then the cantina to grab coffee for both of you. There’s already a line forming and you listen to two women your own age talk about the possibility of staying in Franklin or if it’s better to chance it, and go to another QZ. Transferring between QZ’s seems to be easy, the hard part is getting yourself to the new QZ without dying. Their conversation turns to all the gruesome ways they’ve heard of people dying on the outside and you’re grateful when they finally get their coffees and leave. You get two coffees for you and Frankie, smiling a thank you to the lady handing them out and head back to the tent.

You’re just a couple of tents away from tent five when the screaming starts.It's coming from the tent next to you and suddenly a man comes crashing out from under the tent flap. You let out a yelp as you’re knocked over, the coffee mugs tumble to the ground as you lose your footing and fall flat on your back, the hard smack to the ground knocking the wind out of you. You’re gasping for air as more screams come from inside the tent and people are suddenly running, scrambling to get away. With a chill you recognise the inhuman screech that’s tearing through the air and you force your legs to work, your lungs to pull in air again. 

“Get up! Get up, cariño! Run!!” You hear Frankie roaring and out of the corner of your eye you see him sprinting towards you. The tent flap flies open and a man you recognise from the early morning shower queue barrels out, tendrils creeping under his skin, his lifeless eyes fixed on you. He’s fast, faster than you’re prepared for and before you can get upright, he’s on you, his teeth bared and snapping. You get your arms up just in time, his teeth missing your wrist by half an inch as you push against his throat. Deafening gunshots ring out, making you scream, and the man slumps down on you, twitching as you try to hold his weight off you, you’re gasping, crying in panicked gulps. Suddenly Frankie is above you, yanking the man away from you, tossing him to the side as if he weighs nothing and turning to you, kneeling down. 

“Are you hurt, did he bite you? Cariño, answer me!” Frankie is frantically running his hands over your exposed skin, pulling down the neckline of your hoodie as you try to calm yourself enough to check if you’re ok. 

“Step away from her immediately!” a soldier barks from behind the fence, “Sir, step away from her!” 

Frankie’s eyes snap up at the soldier's tone, his rifle is aimed at you and Frankie scrambles to his feet, putting himself between you and the soldier. 

“She has no bite marks, she’s clean,” he calls back, his hands held up to placate the soldier, who’s now joined by three more, all of them with their rifles aimed at you both. 

“She’s been exposed, step away from her.” 

You’re still sitting on the ground and now you turn slowly to look over at the soldiers, all four are lined up behind the fence, rifles trained at you with Frankie trying to cover you with his body. 

“You can’t shoot her!” he yells, taking a step back so that he’s almost standing over you, “she hasn’t been bitten, he didn’t get her!” 

“She needs to go into solitary quarantine and be examined, step away from her, sir. Now!” 

Frankie looks over his shoulder at you, you can feel tears streaming down your face, your hands are shaking from shock and he moves as if to crouch down and touch your cheek and the soldier barks again. 

“Sir! You need to step away from her now! She will be taken to solitary quarantine for two weeks. We need to make sure she is clean and contained.” 

“It’s...it’s ok, F-Frankie,” you stutter, “I’ll be ok.” 

Frankie’s eyes squeeze shut as he knots his eyebrows together like he’s in pain. 

“Can I go with her?” he asks, turning back to the soldier. “Please, she’s my fiancée.” 

“No, for your safety, and everyone else's, she has to go into solitary quarantine for two weeks.”

You get to your feet, still shaking from the adrenaline and shock, “I have to go, Frankie, it’s just two weeks, I’ll be fine.” He knows from your voice that you’re scared, terrified, but you’re swallowing back your panic, trying to stand straight and be confident, tell yourself as much as him, that you’re fine. With pained eyes he looks back at you, reaching out to touch your face before you have to go but the soldier barks; 

“Don’t touch her, back away! Don’t make me tell you again!” and Frankie drops his hand and you take a couple of steps away from him, your eyes still on him with tears streaming down your cheeks. 

“Come with us,” the first soldier calls to you and motion with his rifle for you to follow them along the fence. 

You give Frankie a final look, “I love you, Frankie, stay safe.” 

“Te amo, cariño, I’ll come see you if they let me. I’ll figure it out, I promise, I’ll be waiting when you come back.” His dark eyes are fraught with anxiety as he looks at you, he can see your hands shaking. 

You nod and turn to follow the soldiers, glancing back at him over your shoulder. Everyone in the quarantine area backs away from you as you walk with the soldiers back to where you first came in. They take you through a gate to a smaller area you’ve never seen before, a few enclosures with a small tent set up inside each one. All the other enclosures are empty and you’re guided to the first one. One of the soldiers locks the gate behind you and leaves. You pull off your hoodie as they turn their backs, shivering in the cold air with only your t-shirt on, but you scan every inch of your skin that you can see.There are no marks on you, as far as you can tell, no blood, and nothing hurts as you run your fingers over your neck where the man’s teeth snapped so close. Your wrists and arms are clean too and  you allow yourself to breathe a small sigh of relief while you wait. The adrenaline is wearing off and you sink to the ground with your back against the fence, your legs suddenly weak. The cold winter air raises goose bumps on your bare arms but you don’t have the energy to move.

It takes over two hours, but the doctor finally turns up, a different one this time, together with two soldiers. He tells you to take all clothes off except your underwear and then, turning slowly in front of him, he carefully looks you over, asking you to pull down your bra and expose your breasts too. You shudder as you do it, the leering look in his eyes too indicative of why he’s taking extra time looking at your bare chest. Finally he lets you cover up and beckons you over to the hole in the fence, pressing the scanner to your skin, it blinks green.  “Why do you have to do the ocular examination if you can just scan me?” you ask, angry at being forced to stand in the cold air with his greedy eyes on you. 

“The scanners are experimental, still in the testing phase and we don’t trust them completely yet. As you saw yourself just now, the infection is sneaky and can get past us even if we check every one that we let in.” He motions over to your clothes inside the tent, “You can get dressed, it seems you were lucky but we’re quarantining you for two extra weeks just to be safe.” 

You get dressed and go sit on the single bunk inside the tent. There are no supplies, only a small oil lamp and a gas stove, like the one in tent five. After a couple of hours a soldier comes over with your box of supplies and slides them through the small opening in the fence. 

“Can my fiancé come and see me while I’m here if he’s outside the fence?” you ask and the soldier shakes her head.

“No visitors, we can’t risk anything.” she says and leaves, giving you a short nod. 

Sighing you take the box into the small tent, unpacking it slowly. As you do, you realize Frankie’s must’ve been the one who’s packed it. He’s added extra rations, his own rations, to the box, the thickest blanket, one of his flannel shirts and a hastily scribbled note tucked into it. The shirt smells like him and you fold it up, putting it down as a pillow on your new bunk before you lie down to read his note.

Hermosa, fuck, you scared me! My heart stopped when I saw that man charge at you, but I think you’re ok. I couldn’t see any marks on you and you fought him off like a champion! Benny will be proud when we finally get a chance to tell him, whenever that will be. But when we’re together again I’m going to start training you so that you know how to defend yourself, throw a punch properly at least. I should’ve done it months ago but I was too wrapped up in myself to think of it. 

“And with good reason, Frankie” you say to yourself as you smile, you can hear his voice in your head as you read. 

I asked and I can’t come see you, but I’ll get everything sorted for us when I leave quarantine tomorrow so that you don’t have to worry about anything when you get out. I’ll be at the gate waiting for you, I’ll be the one with a goofy grin yelling “cariño.” Stay safe, mi amor, te amo para siempre, mi prometida. 

Frankie 

You fold the letter and put it in your back pocket, and lie back down, wishing you could write a letter back to him. The prospect of two weeks in quarantine didn’t seem so bad when you first came here, you’d be with Frankie at least. Now, the idea of spending two weeks alone, not being able to even talk to him, scares you. And there’s nothing here to distract you. You stare up at the canvas above the bunk, trying to calm your nerves, breathing in and out. 

You’re fine, you’re fine, you’re not infected, you’ll see Frankie in two weeks, he’ll be there waiting for you. Just think of this as a silent retreat, a really shitty, low budget retreat. 

Frankie tucks the note in at the bottom of the box before the soldier comes to pick it up. Outwardly he’s calm, but his hand flies up every minute to rub the back of his neck, and he can’t stop moving. He’s pacing back and forth through the quarantine area, drawing odd looks from the other inhabitants. There aren’t that many people in quarantine anymore, over the past two weeks most people have left and not that many have arrived. And almost everyone had seen him sprinting at her, yelling for her to run and then seen how he’d frantically searched her skin for any mark. The soldiers had deemed that he hadn’t been anywhere near the infected man before he was shot, but it seems the inhabitants would rather be safe than sorry. They all give him a wide berth.

In his head, his mind swirls while he paces back and forth. The scene plays inside him over and over; He heard the screams and ran out of the tent, he’d just gotten his boots on, and the first thing he saw was her on the ground, right by the source of the screams. His only instinct had been to get her away from there but the infected man came hurling out of the tent and went right for her and Frankie couldn’t run fast enough. In his mind he sees the man jerk as the bullets from the soldiers rip into him and the fear that nearly stopped his heart when he didn’t know if they’d hit her too or not. 

His mind starts to spiral and he clenches his fists to stop his hands from trembling. 

I can’t even keep her safe in here. 

He’s stopped at the end of the quarantine area, at the end of the row of tents, holding on to the chain link fence with both hands, nausea is creeping up his throat as he sees the man attack her again and again and again in his head. He squeezes his eyes shut to stop the dizziness that suddenly has him in its grip. 

C’mon, Morales, you know what this is, just a panic attack, just breathe. Just breathe, man. In and out, in a square. She’s safe, you know she is. You saw nothing on her. She’s safe and in two weeks you’ll see her. Just fucking breathe like the therapist taught you.

He forces himself to breathe in and out, following the square shape in his head. Finally he feels the nausea recede, the overwhelming urge to throw up passes and he can stand up straight again, looking up at the pale blue winter sky over the quarantine area. He’s still breathing deeply, forcing his pulse to drop. Eventually he lets go of the chain link fence and slowly walks back to the tent. It’s going to be two long weeks. 

The days are unbearably long in your solitary quarantine. You have no books or games to entertain yourself with so you fall into a stupor and sleep most of the time. Or try to sleep, you haven’t slept without Frankie curled around you for months, over a year. His warm body has been present in your bed, or bunk, since you moved in with him. And especially in the past few months, it’s been more important than ever to have him close at night, for you as much as for him. You lay on your uncomfortable bunk, flat on your back and stare at the canvas, thinking about him, willing him to sleep calmly even if you’re not there. The thought of him waking up with his nightmares, worse than ever, makes you chew on your bottom lip, you wish you could at least talk to him. Pain shoots through your lip as you bite down too hard and the taste of iron fills your mouth. 

You’ll draw blood, hermosa. 

Frankie’s voice is clear in your mind, you can feel the way his thumb would tug your lip from between your teeth as he looked at you with a small smile. With a sigh you close your eyes and roll over on your side, trying to feel Frankie’s arms around you as you drift off to sleep again. 

When you have the energy, you walk endless circles around the enclosure. Your one break in the monotony is when a soldier brings you your rations once a day. It’s almost always the same woman, the one who brought you the box on your first day. After a few days, when she seems certain you’re not going to change into a monster, she stops and chats with you for a while. She tells you more about the life inside the actual QZ, after the quarantine area. Apparently soldiers sleep in shared accommodation if they’re single, they share apartments with other soldiers and sleep two in a room. If you’re in a relationship when you come in you get assigned an apartment with your partner, if you’re lucky you don’t have to share it with another couple.. 

“It depends on the apartments available, but it’s not too bad here. We’re expanding the QZ and clearing out more apartments so you’ll probably get one on your own with your fiancé,” she says when you ask. 

She tells you there’s a notice board for posting messages about missing people, just like you’d hoped for. But she’s not hopeful about finding anyone. 

“There are so many missing people, FEDRA, the Federal Disaster Response Agency, are trying to organize stuff like that but communication between QZ’s is used mainly for military stuff so there’s not much opportunity to ask about who’s where.”

“Have you found any of your people?” you ask while the soldier, her name is Ingrid, leans on the fence and smokes a cigarette. 

“Yeah, I found my brother in the Miami QZ, he used to live in Tampa before the outbreak and he made it there. Last thing I heard he’s still there and working for FEDRA. But that’s the only one I’ve found.” She takes another drag of her cigarette and glances up at the nearest guard tower. “What about you?” she asks, “Who are you looking for?” 

“Everyone, except Frankie,” you sigh, rubbing your hand over your face. “I don’t know what’s happened to my parents or my sister. They were all down in San Antonio. And then our friends, they were gonna try to meet us at a cabin outside of the city, but nobody made it. I think if they made it they’d be here, or in the Arlington QZ.” 

Ingrid stands up and stubs out her cigarette, “I came here from Arlington two months ago, what are their names?” 

“Santiago Garcia, Benjamin Miller, Will and Hannah Miller, Denny Jones.” 

“Oh yeah, Benny I know! He’s with the military in Arlington, I served under him. Big, blonde, ex special ops guy right?” 

Your eyes widen and you feel excitement bubbling up inside you, “Yes! Yes! That’s him! He’s ok? What about his brother, Will’s his brother and he’s married to Hannah.” 

“Yeah, Benny lives with Hannah but he never mentioned a brother.” She sees the fear creep into your eyes as you realize the reason why Ben might not have mentioned Will. “I wasn’t close with Benny or anything, maybe he just never mentioned him.” 

“But if Will was there, then Hannah would be living with him and not Benny,” you say in a low voice. Ingrid looks at you with pity before she sighs, getting ready to leave again. 

“Yeah, if he was there they’d probably be sharing an apartment and Benny would’ve been the barracks. Listen,” she says, putting her hand on the fence separating you, “I’ll try to get a message to Arlington, let Benny know you’re here, see if he can send you a message back. He’s a commanding officer, comes with some privileges.” 

“Thanks Ingrid, tell him Frankie Morales is here too, I really appreciate it.” 

“No problem, I’ll see you tomorrow, ok, only four days left now.” 

“See you tomorrow.” 

You go back to the tent and sit down on the bunk, Benny and Hannah are alive, that’s something. But Will…your stomach knots when you think about him, calm, reliable Will, always has his friend’s back, always looked out for Frankie when you first started dating, you don’t want to think about the possibility of him not making it. But if Will was in the Arlington QZ, he and Ben would be serving together, you’re sure of it. So where is he, if he’s not there? 

Two days later Ingrid comes back, handing over your rations for the day and she has good news. 

“I got hold of Benny on the radio, it was pure luck,” she says, grinning at you as you feel tears well up in your eyes. “I was on radio duty yesterday and he had information to pass on to Franklin QZ so I got to talk to him. I told him you and Frankie are here and he was ecstatic, he asked me to tell you ‘I’m going to hug her and hug Frankie and then smack Frankie for scaring the shit out of him and then hug him again’. “ 

You laugh despite the tears dripping down your cheeks, “That sounds like Benny alright,” you say as you drag your palms over your cheeks to dry them. 

“He’s gonna send a message to Frankie and if you guys want, he’ll try to get you transferred to Arlington.” She pushes your rations over to you through the fence and leans back to light a cigarette. “We didn’t have time to talk more, but I’d say you can expect a very big hug if you transfer to Arlington.” 

You smile and lean back against the fence on your side too, “Benny is one of Frankie’s best friends. They served together for years together with Will and Santiago, it’s gonna do Frankie good to hear that at least Ben is ok.” 

“Well, you can tell him the day after tomorrow,” Ingrid smiles, “But I’ll miss our chats. Come see me when you’re all settled in, promise?” 

“I will for sure, it’ll be nice to talk to you without a fence in between us;” you laugh, relief making you feel light. Ben is ok, and he knows you’re ok and where you are. That’s a start, you’re gonna find the Will and Pope too, somehow, somehow you’re gonna track them down and get word to them.  

Two days later you’re given a final scan by the doctor, the female one now thank god, and given the all clear to gather your things and exit the quarantine area. You’re longing for Frankie, you’re bouncing on the balls of your feet as you wait in line for the processing to be done for you and four more people who are being released into the QZ. You get some sort of QZ passport and a stamp in it before you’re finally allowed to step through the gate that leads into Franklin QZ. 

“Cariño!” Frankie’s waving at you from behind a low barricade, keeping the area in front of the wall clear. Even at a distance you can see his eyebrows drawn together in an anxious look as raises his hand to you again. “Cariño!”

You try not to run over to him, to not look too pathetic in front of the guards and the other newcomers, but tears well up in your eyes and you break into a run. Through the mist you see him open his arms wide for you and you slam into him, hard enough to make him stumble back before he finds his footing. His arms close around you as you grab his face, his scruffy beard under your palms, and then his mouth is on yours again, finally. His hand slips up and cups your cheek, you feel his fingers in your hair, pulling you closer as he fists your shirt, bunching it up and grabbing hold of you. Your tears are dripping down over your lips and his, he’s wiping at them with his thumb, but when his tongue slips across yours, you can taste them on you both. He’s pressed hard against you and you slip your arms around his neck to hold steady as he picks you up, your feet leave the ground as he hugs you tight enough to squeeze the air out your lungs but you still can't get close enough to him.

“I love you Frankie, I missed you so much,” you choke out when you have to gasp for air and Frankie draws a shuddering breath, pressing his forehead against yours. 

“I love you too, I missed you too,” he mumbles, looking at you with his warm, brown eyes so close it’s all you can see, “hermosa, mi amor, I missed you so fucking much.” His lips are on yours again, gentler this time as he carefully lowers you to the ground, his hand still on your cheek while the other runs up and down your back, holding you close. 

You stay wrapped up around each other for a long time, only the guards are left when you finally break apart far enough to notice the world around you. Frankie’s got a tight grip on your hand, your small box of belongings in the other and he gives you a slight tug, showing you where you’re going.

“C’mon, we’ve got an apartment down this way,” he says and leads you down what looks like it used to be a major street in Franklin. “I got everything sorted for us, like I promised,” he gives your hand a small squeeze. “I joined FEDRA, that’s the military agency that runs the QZ, and I got us an apartment through them and some rations to start us off. The apartment isn't much but it’s furnished and there’s a donation center where we can apply for stuff we need.” 

He turns down a side street as you get further from the wall, a regular city street lined with apartment buildings and offices except it looks almost like a war zone, or at least what you’d imagine a war zone to look like. A couple of the buildings are burnt out and there are burnt out cars along the streets too. Some of the cars are toppled over and down one alley you see a crashed truck with its back doors ripped off its hinges. 

“They haven’t prioritized clearing the streets yet,” Frankie says. “They had to get the walls and quarantine areas up as fast as possible. And they’re still reinforcing the wall in some places, getting it more stable.” You turn another corner and arrive at a non-descript apartment block in sand coloured brick. 

“This is us,” Frankie says and opens the gate into the complex, holding it up for you. “There was no electricity in the daytime the first week I was here. They only just got the power plant up and running again. Apparently it took a bit of damage during the outbreak.” He starts leading you up the stairs, “but now we have actual hot water and lights.” 

“Hot water…” you sigh, “I can’t wait to take a long shower, I’m all grimy and gross, there was no shower in solitary quarantine:” 

“You’re still the most beautiful woman I know, hermosa,” Frankie says, slipping his arm around your waist as you get to the third floor. You lean into him and through the layers of his jacket, the very well worn flannel and soft t-shirt underneath, you can still catch that warm scent  that always seems to hang around him, warm cotton, something woody and very much Frankie. Despite it all, the mess of the entire world, losing Lucía, losing your friends, the looters attacking you, the infected man attacking you and the two extra weeks in quarantine, despite it all, being back with Frankie makes it all seem less scary, less intimidating. You wrap your arm around his waist, tucking it in under his jacket so that you can put your hand between his t-shirt and jeans, running your fingers along the soft skin of the small of his back. He hums gently and stops you both in front of a door at the end of the hallway. 

Unlocking the door he steps in first, flicking the light switch and kicking off his shoes after putting your box on a small table just inside the door. You untie your boots and pull them off as Frankie locks the door behind you. When you stand up he pulls you into his chest, smoothing his thumbs over your cheeks as his lips find yours. His tongue laps at your mouth and you part your lips, relishing the feel of his eager press after so long apart. He feels more needy than he has in months, there’s something urgent in the way he pushes you against the wall in the hallway and when he deepens the kiss, his tongue tangling with yours, you feel heat rush through your body and you moan into him. You wrap your arms around his waist, dipping your hands inside his jeans, his skin soft and warm under your fingertips. You urge him closer, your hips pressing against his and with a low groan his lips leave yours and nips at your jaw, traveling a familiar path to that spot just under your ear that he knows will have you moaning louder for him. 

“Hermosa,” he mumbles, his lips close to your ear, his hands leaving your cheek and caressing down your chest, palming your breast, his thumb seeking out your hardening nipple, “I need you, I need you so much now.” 

You almost sob with happiness, you’ve missed this part of Frankie so much, feeling his hands on your body, feeling him press his hard length against your soft belly, making you moan as arousal floods your body. 

“I need you too, Frankie,” you whimper, gasping as his teeth nip at your sensitive skin, his soft tongue soothing the bite. “Let me shower first, then I’m all yours.” You push him gently away from you, his dark eyes coming up from your neck to stare into yours. He nods and takes your hand, pulling you further into the apartment. It’s almost bare, just a few pieces of furniture in the living room and a small kitchen table at the end of the galley kitchen. The bathroom is next to the one bedroom and Frankie leads you inside and shows you how to get the shower running. It sputters a bit but then a steady flow of hot water comes rushing out and you quickly scramble out of your clothes. You’ve only had one change of clothes in quarantine and everything is dirty and smelly and to drop it all on the bathroom floor feels like peeling off the past two weeks. Frankie can’t keep from running his hands over your body as your bare skin is in front of him, bending his head to kiss your shoulder while he cups your breasts from behind. 

“Take as long as you need, cariño,” he says, still trailing kisses along your shoulder, “I’ll get some clean clothes out for you, your towel is the green one on the hook.” 

“Thank you, Frankie,” you say as he lets go of you and you step into the shower. 

The shower is the best you’ve ever had, the feeling of finally being clean is something you didn’t realize you’d missed so much. You let the water run hot, almost scorching, and soap yourself up three times, washing your hair twice, before you rinse every inch of your body, finally feeling clean, and turn off the water. The mirror is steamed up when you step out of the cubicle and dry off. There’s a comb on the counter that you assume belongs to Frankie and you have to spend some time detangling your hair, coaxing out the knots after two weeks without a hair brush.. When you’re done, you wrap the towel around yourself and make your way to the bedroom. 

It’s as non-descrip as the rest of the apartment, a double bed, a wardrobe, chest of drawers and a chair in the corner. Frankie’s in front of the wardrobe, clothes in his hands, but as you walk in he drops them on the chair and comes over, his hands landing on your waist, sliding down and grabbing hold of your hips, fingers digging into the flesh under the towel. You smooth your hands over his shoulders, he’s shed the jacket and shirt, leaving him in a green t-shirt that stretches across his body, it even looks a size too small for his wide frame. And as you relish the feel of his warm body he pulls you around and walks you backwards to the bed, tugging at your towel and leaving it pooled on the floor. “Take your shirt off, Frankie,” you say, pushing up the hem of it, and he quickly pulls it over his head, his hands barely leaving your body.

He pushes you down on the bed, making you crawl backwards up over it while he crowds you, his mouth finding yours. His kisses are frantic, forceful and needy, his tongue plunges into your mouth, making you moan as you taste him. He’s going to leave bruises on your lips but you let him, he’s pressing hard against you, his low groans vibrating into your mouth. You can feel his knees bump against your thighs as he makes you spread your legs wide, pushing them apart when he rolls his still  jeans clad crotch against your core, a louder groan forcing itself from his chest. He’s pushing you into the mattress, his body heavy over yours, scrambling to undo his belt and pants, shoving them down only enough to free his hard cock, you can feel it push up against your wet folds as he drops his hips against yours, the belt buckle pressed against the flesh of your thigh.

“I need you, cariño,” he pants, he’s grabbing himself, settling the blunt head of his cock against your entrance, “I need you, I need you, fuck, let me…,” he’s pushing himself in, the sharp stretch of his thick cock making you wince, screwing your eyes up, the intense pleasure of feeling him fill you up, mixing with pain at taking all of him so fast and unprepared.

“Frankie,” you whimper, grabbing hold of his shoulders as he pulls out and thrusts back in, a half concealed cry slipping from you as he pushes even deeper too fast. He’s fucking you hard and firm, dropping his head to your neck. You can feel his heavy panting against your skin as he pushes one arm around your shoulders, holding you steady, while his other grabs your hip hard enough to bruise, his own slamming into you at a punishing pace. His climax is approaching fast, he groans into your neck, the rhythm of his thrust stuttering and then he grinds into you, forcing you deeper into the mattress under his heavy weight. With a strangled sob he comes inside you, freezing above you for a few seconds, his hips moving slower until they still, and he slumps down over your. 

You let your hands run through his hair, your own arousal slipping away as you try to wrap your head around how he just fucked you, so unlike him in any way. You feel dazed and  you can feel the sting between your legs, a dull ache from his frantic movements.

“Frankie..:'' you say in a whisper, moving to look at his face but with a hiss he pulls out  and pushes himself off you, shuffling back without looking at you and swings his legs over the side of the bed. He makes a motion as if to stand up but sinks down again, his jeans still just pushed down over his hips, and he slumps forwards, burying his head in his hands as a sob escapes him, shaking his hunched shoulders. 

You push yourself off the bed, moving around so that you can kneel behind him, your hands on his shoulders. 

“Frankie…” you whisper softly, “Frankie, talk to me.”

He grasps at your hands, pulling them around his shoulders and you bury your face against the side of his head as you hug him from behind.  “It’s ok, baby, it’s ok,” you soothe him as he sobs, struggling to catch his breath. 

“I’m sorry,” he whimpers, his voice low and shaky, “I’m sorry, cariño.” 

“It’s ok, come back to bed, Frankie,” you take his hand and gently pull him around when he lets you. “Take your jeans off and come lie down with me.” 

He does as you say and you pull the covers back, tucking you both in as he crawls next to you. Wrapping your arms around him, his head comes to rest against the crook of your neck and you feel his wet cheeks against your skin. 

“I’m sorry,” he mumbles again, “I’m so fucking broken.” 

“Frankie, my love, you’re not broken,” you whisper, caressing his soft curls, “you’re grieving, it’s normal, I’d be more worried if you were behaving like nothing happened.” 

Under you Frankie draws a deep shuddering breath, you can feel him blow warm air over your neck, and he burrows closer to you. 

“I needed you here, I couldn’t even sleep when you weren’t with me,” he mumbles so low you almost can’t hear him, his lips against your skin. “I just needed to make you real again, I just needed to feel you here.” 

“I needed you too,” you whisper, pressing your lips to the top of his head, “I dreamt about you every night, I’d fall asleep pretending you had your arms around me, holding me so that I could feel safe next to you.” Your fingers run through his curls, his quiet whimpers slowly dying down.

“What did you dream?” he asks eventually, his voice a bit steadier but low, shifting so that he can look up at you, his arm under your head like a pillow. 

“Everyday things, things I miss from before,” you lean forward and give him a soft kiss on his pink lips, still damp from his tears. “Movie nights on the couch, going grocery shopping, driving in your truck, taking Lucía to the park.” 

Frankie nods as he curls his hand around the back of your head and pulls your lips to his again, this time his kiss is gentle and delicate.

“I dream about driving with you in my truck almost every night,” he murmurs against your lips when he pulls back, “I don’t know where we’re going, just away I think. I’ve got my arm around you, your hand on my leg and…” he falters, something catching in his throat, “she…Lucía, is sleeping in her booster seat in the back.” He smoothes the back of his hand across your cheek and kisses you again. “On the good nights we just keep on driving until I wake up.” 

You don’t ask him about the bad nights, you know what happens then. Instead you let him deepen his kiss, his warm hand cupping your cheek as his tongue slips between your lips. He tastes of salt and himself and as he carefully rolls you over, you pull him closer, tangling your tongue with his. He’s holding himself up over you on his forearms, straddling you with his legs and when he leaves your lips, trailing soft, gentle kisses along your jawline you feel heat bubbling up inside you again. 

“I’m sorry,” he mumbles again, his lips against the soft skin just under your ear, “I can give you much better.” 

“I know, Frankie,” you whisper but the last syllable comes out as a gasp when he sinks his teeth into your neck, not hard enough to hurt, just a nip to make your back arch against him as electricity shoots through your body, gathering in your core. 

“Like that,” he murmurs and you can hear the smile in his voice, his tongue licking across the spot before he moves himself down, trailing his hand down over your breast, brushing the thumb over your hard nipple, before he lets it slip further down. 

“You don’t have to though,” you mumble, slipping your fingers through his curls, you know his grief is still just under the surface, but he shakes his head as his mouth finds your other breast, lapping at the sensitive nub, nudging the soft flesh with the cool tip of his nose as you writhe under him, spreading your legs to make room for his hand. 

“I want to, I want to make you feel good, cariño,” he ghosts against your skin, looking up at you from under his thick eyelashes. He’s cupping your pussy, slipping a finger through your wet folds, teasing at the entrance and you whine, his fingers moving up to slip across your clit.

“Frankie…” you whisper, his touch is electric, lighting up every nerve in your body. His tongue slipping around your nipple as he lets his fingers follow the same pace, circling around your aching bundle of nerves. 

“I know, I know,” he mumbles, smiling at your skin and lapping at your nipple again before he pushes himself further down your body, leaving a trail of wet kisses as his hands come up and caress your breast, your waist, the soft swell of your belly and finally land on the inside of your thighs, gently pushing them apart as he situates himself between them. 

“I remember how sweet you taste,” he breathes, parting your folds with his fingers before he looks up at you, his dark eyes still puffy from his tears but a needy look in them now, one you recognise from many nights spent in his bed. He dips his head and when his tongue drags across your folds, ending at your clit with an extra lick, you arch your back and inhale, holding your breath until he does it again. You’re not going to last long and he can sense it, going easy on you, to drag it out at least a bit.

He hums against your pussy as he laps into your entrance, the tip of his nose rubbing over your clit. When your hands tangle in his curls, pulling him closer he chuckles and you can feel the vibrations, sending more heat to your core. 

“You taste so good, cariño,” he says, shifting his arm so that he can tease a finger into your opening, his tongue licking a wide path up through your fold before he sucks the clit into his  mouth, pulling gently on it. He curls his finger, dragging it out slowly before letting a second one join it. Pushing deeper he finds that spot that makes you buck your hips against his hand, a strangled gasp coming from you as your fingers tighten in his hair. 

“Frankie...” your voice catches in your throat but he knows what you mean, curling his fingers back as he drags his tongue over your clit. The sensation of his fingers plunging in and out of you makes your body convulse under his arm and he lifts his mouth from your clit, looking up at you under hooded eyes. 

“Look at me, hermosa, please,” he pleads, “I want to see you come in my mouth, it’s been so long.” 

Peeling open your eyes, they’ve been squeezed shut under the onslaught of his skilled tongue, you lift yourself up, gazing down your body at his flushed face between your thighs. His eyes are dark, his sweat damp curls an unruly halo around his head. As you meet his eyes he unfurls his tongue onto your clit, lowering his mouth so that you can see the pink tip brush over your swollen bundle, making you whimper at the touch. His fingers are still moving in and out of you at a steady pace but as his mouth closes around your clit again, he speeds up. The familiar coil starts tightening in your core, seeing Frankie’s dark eyes on you as he buries his face, ramps the heat even more and your mouth drops open, panting out whimpers, his name the only coherent word. He curls his fingers back and presses his lips against your clit, flicking his tongue over, his eyes willing you to come undone under his ministrations, and with a strangled cry, you feel heat flood your body. It makes every muscle tense up, your hips press up against Frankie’s mouth as he laps over your clit, working you through your climax, prolonging it until you fall back with a deep exhale, pushing him away with weak hands. 

Black dots are dancing over your eyes and you squeeze your eyelids together, your breath rushing in and out. Frankie’s fingers slip out of your pussy, gently grabbing your hips and caressing over your flushed skin. His tongue is lapping through your folds, tasting your release and humming low as he feels your body relax under him. When he rests his head on your thigh you can feel the soft scratch of his beard, damp against your skin. 

“Had to make it up to you,” his voice smiling as he caresses your other leg with his hand, grounding you with his touch. 

“You did,” you mumble, still coming down from your high, not sure if you’re conscious or not, “more than enough.” You hear Frankie chuckle softly and shift around your legs, his body moving up to lie down next to you. He pulls you into his side, letting your head fall on his shoulder as he pulls the covers back up. You can feel his fingers brush through your still damp hair, his arm tight around your body and you bury your nose against his neck, breathing in his warm, familiar scent.

“You still smell like yourself, Frankie,” you murmur.  “So do you,” he says, shifting his head so that he can press his nose to your hair, inhaling deeply. “Smells like early morning rain and fresh coffee, with a hint of aviation fuel, all the things I love.” 

You giggle and swat his chest where your hand rests, “Pendejo, I do not smell like aviation fuel.”

He chuckles lightly,“ Hermosa, you’re not allowed to learn the bad words. And no, you don’t smell like aviation fuel.” His lips press against your hair and you close your eyes, listening to his slow heartbeat under your ear. Together you stay quiet for a while, the only sound is your breathing and the distant noises from other apartments. 

“I forgot to ask how quarantine was?” he asks softly just as you’re about to drift off to sleep, his question pulling you back up.

“Very boring, mostly,” you say before you suddenly remember, “Frankie, I’ve got news!” You shuffle around, pushing yourself up on your elbow so that you can look at him.“The soldier who brought my rations, she got transferred here from Arlington QZ and she served under Benny there!” 

Frankie’s eyes widen and he stares at you, “Our Benny? Benjamin Miller?” 

“Yes, our Benny! After she found out I knew him she managed to get him on the radio and tell him we’re here!” You grin at the message Benny had passed along. “Benny said he’d hug me, hug you, then smack you for scaring the shit out of him and then hug you again.” 

Frankie chuckles and shakes his head before he’s suddenly serious again, “What about Will, Hannah and Pope? Anything about them?”

You sigh and bite your lip, Frankie’s eyebrows knit together when he sees your face. “That’s the thing, Benny is living with Hannah in the QZ and Ingrid, the soldier, she didn’t know anything about Benny having a brother. And she didn’t know Pope either.” 

“So Will’s not there,” Frankie says immediately, “If he was he’d be serving with Benny for sure.” “That’s what I was thinking too,” you say and Frankie drops his gaze from your face, narrowing his eyes as he thinks. “It doesn’t mean the worst though, it just means Will isn’t in Arlington,” you say, worrying at your lips with your teeth.

“Yeah, but where else would he be?” Frankie looks up at you and gently tugs your bottom lip from between your teeth. “You’ll draw blood, hermosa.” 

“I don’t know,” you admit, “Maybe he got transferred somewhere else? You guys, with your experience, must be pretty sought after now.” 

“But Will would never leave Benny. She, the soldier, didn't ask about Will?” 

“No, she said there wasn’t much time but he said he’d send a message to you as soon as possible. Although, that was four days ago.” 

“I’ll see if I can get a message to him too, my C.O. mentioned something about officers applying for special privileges on the radio for private conversations. I’ll see if I can do that.” 

Frankie pulls you down to him again, kissing your cheek as you tuck yourself into the crook of his neck.

 “Benny and Hannah are alive,” he says, mostly to himself, “thank god.” 

Chapter 18

Taglist: @pimosworld @i-own-loki @casa-boiardi @littlenosoul @stormseyer @mxtokko  @javicstories @welcometothepedroverse

[bestworstcase]

Genuinely curious about your thoughts- what do you think would happen if Oz got dunked in the Grimm pools like what happened to Salem? Do you think he'd just die or would he come back as Grimm? If he did become Grimm what do you think would his reaction to that?? The concept of Oz getting Grimmed is very fun to me (for angst purposes)

to preface, my read on salem’s transformation in the pool of grimm is that she remade herself and put herself back into balance. i don’t buy the ‘corrupted by the ontological evil’ angle suggested by ozpin’s narrative via jinn and i think it matters a lot that salem was carrying the pure essence of creation in her soul when she did this, because the brothers had ripped destruction-creation apart to impose an artificial and harmful separation between two forces that aren’t truly separate, and salem recombined them into one—that’s why jinn phrases it in the particular way she does, that “this force of pure destruction […] created” her.

so the first thing to consider with ozma is that in the event he, like salem, jumped into the pool of grimm, there would be no unity-of-opposites synthesis. i do not think that anyone besides salem, or someone who had been made immortal in the exact manner that salem was i.e. drowning in the fountain of life and creation, would be transformed in the pool of grimm. THAT SAID i also don’t think submersion would be fatal necessarily presuming this is an otherwise canon-compliant scenario.

when the gods cast salem into the fountain, we see her hit the water and sink into what seems to be an infinitely deep pool, and then she drowns and… wakes up hitting the water again, only this time it’s maybe an inch deep, and the light-refracted-through-water aura glow is playing over her hands. similarly, salem leaps into a bottomless pool of darkness and the grimm-water tears her apart and puts her back together again, new; in the present there is no single pool but a multitude of scattered puddles, and salem meanwhile seems to have an infinite, portable supply. what happened? she absorbed the divine power in the waters.

salem IS the fountain of life and the pool of grimm now. the wellsprings of pure light and darkness no longer exist in a tangible form; they’re mingled together in her soul. what’s left in the land of darkness is just grimm ponds, as in ponds of raw liquid material to make grimm. in 8.2 oscar gets splattered with the stuff while unconscious, aura down:

and suffers no ill effects whatsoever. it doesn’t even leave a mark. so my first, perhaps controversial answer to “what would happen if x character fell into a grimm pool?” is… probably nothing, besides maybe drowning or being eaten by any partially-formed grimm that happened to be swimming around in it. i think whatever lingering traces of power there are just enough to make new grimm coagulate. unless it happened to be boiling like the grimm river, in which case the answer is they die horribly.

for… synthesis of any kind to occur now i think you need either 1. salem or 2. a catalyst in some form of magic (in the broader sense encompassing aura/semblances too, not the in-universe sense). you need an active force, not just passive submersion, something with will behind it—i think salem’s Desire for change, for an ending, was crucial to her transformation, even if she didn’t get exactly the outcome she expected.

so with that in mind: what happens if ozma, specifically, jumps into a grimm pool?—because while he doesn’t have the waters of creation in his soul, he is afflicted with the corrupted-ascension curse light inflicted on him and THAT would, i think, interact with the destruction in the grimm pools.

true ascension is rebirth/renewal. for afterans this is a literal metamorphosis into a new form with factual memories passing into dream, for remnant’s people it takes the form of spiritual reawakening and emotional healing.

ozma’s curse corrupts this process in two ways, first by removing his ability to choose who and what he becomes such that he is changed to fit a predetermined purpose rather than changing in accordance with what he wants, and second by inserting him into someone else—so his reincarnation becomes a destructive, painful ordeal that erodes his agency and breaks him down.

grimm are destructive beings created by The Brother Who Understood Destruction, which is to say that their true nature and purpose is something more along the lines of hunger and driving change.

so the question is: what happens if you combine miserable enforced stagnation with a wild force of change galvanized by misery? well… that’s one way to break a curse, albeit one that i imagine would not be pleasant for ozma or his host, if the grimm were to essentially eat the curse out of them. and then what? presuming that destroying the curse would forcibly separate ozma from his host, then you have a disembodied human spirit floating around in a grimm pool and we’ve seen, with penny, that a disembodied human soul will just. spontaneously manifest a new body, except doing that in a pond of eldritch goop seems like an effective way to end up grimmy… although i think probably more in the vein of cinder than salem, for the reasons discussed.

[shyphonics]

Salad Days Chapter 4: When Archeologists Dig This Up, They'll Either Laugh or Cry

(babypunk!Rodrick Heffley x reader)

chapter one | chapter two | chapter three

also, please take my favorite live performance of rise above by Black Flag as a companion piece

Hey!

I do not like you college brat

I do not like you and your frat

I do not like you at the shore

I do not like you drunk on coors

I do not like your average life

I hope you do not take a wife

I hope you don’t decide to breed

Cause that’s one thing I do not need

~

Well, they did it. They’ve got a van full of booze, and a sense of self satisfaction.

It had taken a while to fit everything in, and the guy at the pickup spot hadn’t been very nice, but they did it.

Mike seems more calm when they show up to The Strike, happy to see them, even.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you, you giraffe of a man!” He pulls Rodrick into a hug, heartily patting him on the back. Rodrick does kind of feel like a giraffe, Mike only comes up to the middle of his chest.

“Hey, if there’s anything else you need, just let us know!” Rodrick gives him a smile.

He grabs a box of bottles and heads through the back door of the bar. The guys work like ants; grab a case, march to the walk in, march back. They’re done in no time. He wonders if the delivery center is hiring, because that was easy.

Mike shoves a bundle of money into his hands, and gives him another pat on the back.

“She was right about you.”

“Huh?”

“You’ve got the spirit,” he smiles, “like a young Henry Rollins, slingin’ ice cream. See you tomorrow. Show up at 5 PM, load in here. Got it?”

“Got it,” Rodrick nods.

The spirit. He has no idea what that means, but he’s grateful for the sentiment. Especially if you’d said something nice about him… he finally has ammo to tease you back.

Mike disappears into the back of the bar, and the guys regroup to count their unexpected pay.

“Dude, he gave us a hundred dollars!” Chris says, shocked.

They recount again and again, coming to one hundred every time. They can’t believe it, and they speed away from the bar with the radio turned all the way up.

The rest of their day is spent planning. They craft the perfect setlist, they find their tightest jeans, they even find time to learn a surprise cover song. It's one he'd heard on your radio shift, and it's been stuck in his head all day.

Everything has to be perfect.

Rodrick is sure everything is gonna be perfect.

~

It’s only 5:30 by the time they’re done setting up, and they find themselves just standing in front of the stage, awestruck.

It’s not huge by any means, but it’s high off the ground and covered in lights. There’s a full PA system, and even a pole to hang their homemade bedsheet flag from.

The bar is empty, except for a guy in the sound booth, Jimbo by the door, and two bartenders prepping. Rodrick doesn’t see you, and immediately gets a pang of sadness.

“Hey,” he starts, leaning on the bar.

“We can’t serve yet, sorry.” A girl with tight blonde curls shuts him down.

“Oh, no, I was gonna ask… where’s the other girl that works here?”

She thinks for a moment, then makes a face of realization.

“Oh, she’s not working tonight. She’s headlining.”

Rodrick’s eyes go wide. Headlining? You? His mind is blown.

The bartender goes back to prepping without giving him a second thought. Rodrick walks back to the stage, zombie-like, deep in thought.

Now they really have to be perfect.

A few people have come in through the back, and they’re setting up portable tables along a wall.

“You guys need one?” A girl with tall, spiked hair asks.

They look at each other. Merch. Duh. They're pretty sure they have an unorganized cardboard box of t-shirts and buttons in the van. Ward had spent all his high school graduation cash on some real ones from a print shop.

Ben and Chris wedge the table out from between two vending machines, and Rodrick digs the box out of the van. It’s not a very impressive setup, but they’re pretty happy with themselves.

The doors open at 7, and it doesn’t take long for the place to fill up. Mike comes by and gives each of the guys three little paper tickets, like you’d get at an arcade.

“Beer tickets,” he says, before they can ask, “one of these gets you anything canned or bottled. Be nice to the bartenders, please.”

Ward and Ben high five and head straight to the bar, Chris heads to the bathroom, and Rodrick does a full scan of the area by the stage. Where are you? He needs to make fun of you for being nice to him, dammit.

Ward and Ben get back, looking a little shaken up.

“Rodrick, hey, do you want us to get you a beer?” Ben chuckles nervously.

“Nah, I can get it myself,” Rodrick starts to walk towards the front.

“No, no,” Ward puts a hand on his shoulder.

“You should really let us get you one!” Ben makes urgent eye contact.

“Why...?” Rodrick is starting to get freaked out.

“‘Cause we’re buddies!” Ward pats him on the shoulder.

Something is definitely up.

Rodrick pushes past Ward, walking through the tall arch that leads to the bar area. It’s absolutely packed. His heart skips a beat when he sees a flash of golden blonde hair.

Oddly familiar golden blonde hair.

The girl turns around.

No. It can’t be. There’s no way in hell that it’s-

“Heather Hills,” Rodrick whispers, grateful for the loud house music.

She’s sitting at the bar with a large group of people. Some douchebag with a double popped collar has his arm around her. They’re all laughing- the kind of laugh you do at someone. Snotty.

Any attraction he’d had to her has been completely gone for years. He feels a mix of hatred and nausea. They’re at the far end of the bar, by the door, so Rodrick blends in at the other end.

Please don’t look at me.

He gets a beer from the bartender from earlier, making sure to tip as your snarky reminder rings in his head. Also making sure to avoid Natty Light. He turns fast to get back to the stage, and right before he’s through the arch-

“Rodrick? Rodrick Heffley?”

He wheels around. She’s right fucking behind him.

“Oh, hey, what was your name again?” He rolls his eyes.

“Real mature, asshole.” She scoffs, “What are you doing here?”

“Playing a show. What the fuck are you doing here?”

“Aww, you don’t wanna play nice with me?” She drags a finger down his chest. It enrages him.

“No. And you know why?” His voice goes low. He leans down so his face is close to hers, and he’s about to let everything out. Her face is smug, and she raises her eyebrows.

Suddenly, there’s a hand on his back.

“Hey, you’re on in ten. Soundcheck time.” You peer around to see Rodrick's face. He looks pissed. You’re not sure what’s going on, but it’s none of your business. You’re just the messenger.

Rodrick’s eyes bug when he sees you, and his face relaxes a little.

“Um, excuse me, we were talking.” The blonde girl sneers at you.

“You can talk later. We gotta get this shit rollin’.” You don’t wait to see her reaction. You just turn around and head back to the stage.

If you’re honest, it's a little disappointing seeing Rodrick with, you assume, his very pretty girlfriend. It makes sense though. He's a nice looking guy. Your official assessment is toxic on-again, off-again high school sweethearts. Oh, well.

Just keep walking. Stay on schedule. Five bands, twenty minute sets, ten minutes for stage change. You repeat it in your head like a mantra.

Heather’s mouth is hanging open. Rodrick winces.

“Gotta go,”

He practically runs to the stage.

They’ve never done a real soundcheck before, and it’s kind of an intimidating process. The sound engineer is very no nonsense. Rodrick checks his drums one by one. Then bass, guitars, mics. Each adjustment is barely noticeable to them, and they end up just giving a thumbs up every time the engineer asks a question. Finally, they run through the whole chorus of a song to hear everything together. By that point, the dance floor is almost entirely full.

Rodrick takes a deep breath, scanning for Heather. He hopes she just left.

They've come a long way since their high school days, no longer unpracticed wannabes. Their sound has become pretty good, if they say so themselves. Tonight's only adjustment is to play faster.

The sound guy points at them, and Ben clears his throat.

“We… are Löded Diper!”

The chatting in the crowd subsides, and falls silent.

Rodrick hears snickering, and a voice saying oh my god, that IS him!

He panics, and right when the tension is almost too much to bear, a loud WOOOOOOOO comes from the very front. He looks and sees you, trying to rile up the crowd. It seems to be working. Other people are giving half-hearted cheers, which is something at least.

“That's more like it!” Ben yells, and they launch into their first song.

They only have a five song set, so everything has to count. Ben’s wails are powerful, he's really embodying a frontman. Chris is whipping his hair around, and Ward is the true picture of a bassist. Strong, still, and holding it all together.

Rodrick is hyper-focused on keeping the rhythm. And maybe showing off, just a little bit. He puts his whole body into hitting the drums, his mouth pulled into a tight “o”.

You have a perfect view from the front row, and what a view it is.

He's killing it. So focused and steady, but it looks like he's having fun. He leans into the mic to sing backup, and you get a flash of his sharp canines. You can see the muscles in his arms clenching, and the front of his hair is wet with sweat.

You feel your face getting hot, and you're reluctant to admit it's not just from the packed room. You’re suddenly faced with the very real possibility that you're very attracted to him.

He gives you a huge grin and a wink between songs, and it's no longer just a possibility. Fuck.

Blasts of air from his bass drum cool your face down, and you stare at him a little closer, analyzing.

You've been infantilising him a little bit, you'll admit it.

Kid. Cute. Baby boy.

Although you’re pretty sure the two of you are the same age, he just comes off like a teenager. You couldn’t help but haze him a little bit, especially after he just wandered into the bar with no plan. He’s really proving himself right now.

The crowd is going crazy. You’re holding yourself up on the edge of the stage, but behind you, a sizable pit has opened up. People are loving them.

“We have one more!” Ben shouts. People are screaming.

“We learned it just for you!” Rodrick yells. There’s something snarky about his tone. You like it.

You recognize the song immediately. Their rendition is just a little clunky, but it works. You can't help but smile, and wonder if Rodrick somehow heard your radio shift last night.

It's such a good choice for a first show. Perfect, really. It's like they're saying, we're here, fuckers.

You let the crowd swallow you up as you sing along.

Society's arms of control

(Rise above, we're gonna rise above!)

They think they're smart, can't think for themselves

(Rise above, we're gonna rise above!)

Laugh at us behind our backs

(Rise above, we're gonna rise above!)

I find satisfaction in what they lack

(Rise above, we're gonna rise above!)

We! Are Tired!

Of your! Abuse!

Try to stop us!

But it’s! No use!

The aftermath of their set is chaos. Good chaos, but chaos. They tear down their gear and load up the van. On their way back in, people are yelling and patting their shoulders as they walk by.

Hell yeah, dude!

Good set, bro!

It feels good.

A small crowd has formed at their merch table. Chris takes on the task of handling the sales, and before they know it, their box is nearly half gone. They hadn't expected that.

Another unexpected side effect of playing a good set: booze.

Once the merch crowd is gone, old rocker types materialize, holding out shot glasses and cans. One guy hands Rodrick a shot of something that burns, and puts a heavy arm around his shoulder. He starts up a conversation about drumming, which is really more like a monologue.

You were great out there, man. Who's your favorite? Like, who's your guy? It's Lars for me, bro, 100%. I saw Metallica in ‘88, bro. Busted a knee in the pit, and now I can’t play a double pedal no more. Where'd you learn to play like that? You could play like Hellhammer with those arms. Fuckin’ rock on, brother. Oh, hey, sorry, I was supposed to give you this lime to help with the tequila...

Rodrick’s head swims as the guy babbles, nodding his head like he's listening.

“Thank you,” he finally sighs out. He’s exhausted from just listening to the guy. He pops the lime in his mouth, and it does help quite a bit.

People just keep coming with shots, and beers, and stories, and the guys end up piss drunk before the second band is done setting up.

Rodrick smiles and looks around. He's having fun. They did what they came to do, and people actually liked it. The rest of the guys are making conversation with the other bands. Heather and whoever else had been laughing at him are nowhere to be seen, and he's happy.

Even happier when you appear in front of the table.

“Heyyy!” He yells, giving you a singular finger gun, his other hand occupied with a beer can.

You take one look at his half lidded eyes and lazy smile, and realize he's wasted.

“Are you drunk?” You cackle, “It's not even 8:30!”

He turns, and spits a sucked-dry lime slice into the trash can next to him.

“Shut up! You're drunk!” Rodrick points at you, smile still wide.

“Oh, man. You're gone. Your girlfriend is gonna be pissed!” You laugh.

The drunk-happy look fades from his face.

“My huh?”

“That girl you were talking to you. Girlfriend, right?”

“No fucking way!” he bursts out laughing, “She’s a rich, stuck-up asshole! She's an evil witch from hell!” He downs the rest of his beer.

“Harsh, but I believe you.”

Well, that settles that.

You wonder if Rodrick has ever been this drunk in his life. He doesn't seem like he knows how to handle it, but he seems to be having a good time, at least.

“Hey. You did really, really good. You killed it. I mean it.” You lean on the merch table and smile up at him.

Rodrick’s eyes are sparkling, and his smile is somehow bigger than before.

“You liked us?”

“I loved you guys. Everyone did. They're totally gonna have you back.”

He looks like he might cry.

"Hey, don't I get a shirt? Wasn't that part of our deal?"

Rodrick thinks hard, finally remembering.

"Oh yeah!" He shouts.

He ducks down under the table and rifles through a big box. You lean over and tell him your size. He looks deeply focused.

He finally resurfaces, and holds up the shirt, triumphantly. You take it and sling it over your arm.

"Thanks," you smile, "I'll wear it all the time."

He beams.

You hold out your hand, and he hesitates for a second before grabbing it.

“You wanna come stand with me? The next band is up.”

Rodrick’s heart soars.

You lead him to the middle of the crowd, where three other people are gathered, talking.

“This is my band: Maureen, Jessica, and Eddie.”

Rodrick is seeing double at this point, but he smiles and waves. He thinks he sees a girl with ridiculously long black hair, a girl with very short green hair, and a guy with little round glasses.

“Good set,” the guy gives him a fist bump.

Before they can talk any more, a microphone squeals. Everyone in the crowd is at attention. Rodrick blinks to try and focus in on the stage; the next band has set up a giant, inflatable palm tree and some yard flamingos. They're all dressed for the pool, it seems like. Big, bright board shorts and floaties. The singer is barefoot, and has a megaphone in hand.

“May I have your attention please, may I have your attention please,” his distorted voice comes through the megaphone, “The president of the United States is an insect! All your lives are a lie!”

The next few minutes are a blur of sound and color. Rodrick can’t process anything that’s happening in front of him. The music is weird, but good. Messy. The words don’t make any sense. His body is starting to sway uncontrollably, and he’s worried he might topple over.

His shoulder bumps yours, and you look up. He doesn’t look so good. You grab his hand again and lead him out of the crowd, all the way to the front patio, stopping to grab a water on the way.

Cool air hits Rodrick’s face, and he feels at ease. You help him into a low metal chair, and he stares up at you, helplessly.

“Are you good?” You push his hair up, away from his forehead, and hand him the cup of water.

“That was a lot,” he breathes, dazed.

“Chug that water, you’ll feel better,” you lean on the railing next to his chair, “and no more booze, big boy.”

“I thought I was baby boy,” Rodrick slurs, smirking.

“I think you’ve transcended that term,” you laugh, “unless you want to be baby boy.”

“What if I do?”

“You’re so weird,” you give his chair a little kick.

He sticks out his arm to catch your leg, and chugs the whole water in one go.

He lifts your leg a little higher, slinging it over his shoulder. You’re speechless. That’s pretty smooth.

"You said something nice about me," he slurs in a sing-song voice, "Mike told me."

"Oh yeah? What did I say?"

Rodrick thinks hard. What was it again?

"Something about... spirits? And ice cream."

"Okay, buddy." You shush him, "Just take some deep breaths."

It’s kinda nice, just sitting with him in silence. The last bit of daylight is leaving, and everything is shrouded in a faint blue.

“I think I like you,” he says quietly, not looking at you.

“I think you’re drunk. Get back to me in an hour.”

“Can I like you in an hour?” He holds your leg a little tighter.

“Go nuts,” you chuckle.

You don’t move your leg, though.

You sit together until the set ends, and people start to file out onto the patio.

“You wanna go back in? Your friends are probably worried.” You bounce your leg a little to get his attention.

“Yeah. I have to pee so bad.”

Another trans-am’s wrapped itself around a telephone pole

“I ain't drunk, officer, I just fell getting out of my car.”

Don't worry about it, son. We were that way when we were young!

You've got all the skills to make a damn good business man!

~

Rodrick stares at his reflection in the bathroom mirror, breathing deep. He feels a lot better after some fresh air and the longest piss of his life.

A stall door opens, and a familiar face shows up next to his.

“Heffley? Shit, that really is you.”

Bryan Kent is a bonafide asshole with a football scholarship, who'd made Rodrick’s life a living hell back home. He really doesn't feel like reconnecting right now.

“Yep. It's me.”

Rodrick turns to leave, but Bryan blocks the door.

“You're not even gonna say hi, diner dork?”

“Fuck off, Bryan. I'm not in the mood.”

Bryan pushes him, and Rodrick feels all that old rage bubbling up. He's still a little wobbly on his feet.

“Did the cops ever catch you for what you did?” Bryan takes a step towards Rodrick. He feels all the blood leave his face.

“Actually, one of my buddies from back home just passed police academy. You wanna come back to our table and put in a little confession?”

“Fuck off,” he pushes Bryan back hard, sending him right into the door.

You're waiting outside the bathroom, and starting to get just a little worried. One of Rodrick’s bandmates- Ward, you're pretty sure- is still by their merch table.

“Hey,” you smile at him, “Rodrick went into the bathroom kind of a long time ago. He was pretty wrecked, and I'm starting to get worried. Could you…?”

Ward is around the table before you can even finish your sentence.

“Don't worry, I got him.”

As Ward opens the bathroom door, another guy walks out, laughing.

“What the fuck?” Ward yells.

You come up behind him and see Rodrick, lying on the floor, face bloody. Your mouth twists into a sneer. Fucking frat boys.

You march to the front of the bar, and lean in towards Jimbo’s ear.

“Him. Out.” You point at the offender, who's still flexing his busted knuckles like a jackass. Like it's something to show off.

“Had a feeling.” Jimbo sighs, standing up.

Rodrick’s head is pounding.

He opens his eyes to see Ward, looking devastated.

“Dude, what happened? Can you get up?”

“Fucking… Bryan Kent,” he coughs out.

Ward helps him to his feet and hands him a bundle of paper towels. Rodrick dabs at his bloody nose and lip in the mirror.

Of course. Of fucking course one of those assholes would show up tonight, of all nights.

He takes a few moments to just stand there and recover.

“That was fucked up.” Ward breaks the silence.

Rodrick just nods.

They emerge from the bathroom and there's what looks to be a full on brawl at the front of the bar. Rodrick sees you walking quickly towards him, eyes wide.

“Are you okay? Jeez, look at your lip.”

You bring your hand to his face and take a closer look. It doesn't look like he needs stitches or anything, but his bottom lip is swollen, with a dark line in the middle. Blood is quickly drying up in one of his nostrils.

Rodrick jumps a little, and suddenly feels a whole lot better under your gentle touch. He gets lost for a second, just looking down at your worried face.

“I shouldn't have let you in there alone, I'm so sorry.” You murmur.

He smiles, but a yell from up front brings him back to reality.

“It’s cool, I'm fine. What's going on up there?”

“Well, we asked your... acquaintance to leave, and he didn't want to. And he's got friends.”

“Should we go up and help?” Ward clenches his fist, smiling slightly.

Rodrick’s other bandmates have joined the circle.

“I'd stay out of it, they've got it.”

You all observe as Jimbo drags Bryan out the front door by his ear. A second drunken dickhead is yelling I'm a police officer! Get off me! as a second, equally huge guy hauls him off.

Rodrick notices Heather following them out, rolling her eyes.

“Are we all good?” Someone from the stage asks into a microphone.

Oh yeah, there's still a show going on.

You all shrug, and head into the crowd together.

You take Rodrick's hand again, and give it a little squeeze. He turns to look at you, and smiles.

"Are you really okay?" You yell over the music.

"I'm really okay." He squeezes your hand back.

"Promise?"

"Promise."

[meowmeowriley]

Hi costume anon here!

How dare you so accurately call out my daddy issues and socially awkward arse 😖 (/j)! I would make a terrible Fire Lord but it’s good to know all those years of projection paid off, though now I’m head canoning Zuko as autistic (what have you done to me is this revenge?)

I personally want a Bloodborne tattoo oneday ngl though the outsiders mark is cool as fuck

I love your brain you have changed my view on the logistics (?) of how it would all go down!

Just imagine Ghost returning to systematically tear apart and destroy Dunwall like it was the Zaragoza cartel after he escapes to Karnaca and his family ended up paying the price for his “Treason”.

He becomes “the Outsiders Ghost” fully devoted to and for him people start whispering about what happened in Dunwall about how a dead man got revenge and how Rats and whale song swallowed an entire nation. Never anger the Outsiders lest his Ghost starts haunting you. (I love Spooky shit.)

Oh no! I made my friend rewatch DP That’s rough buddy (I regret nothing)

Speaking of DP, Gaz is a walking wifi modem and Soap is a portable power bank for his devices 😂 they stick to Ghost like glue on hot days you can not change my mind. The 141 would have the most terrifying reputation even though they’re all idiots.

Soap %100 has caused a black out and Gaz “accidentally” locked a general he didn’t like out of his house after he made Laswell and price mad.

Do you think Ghost would have to deal with the actual ghosts of soldiers would Soap and Gaz pick up on them too?

I can’t remember who said it but they head canoned Soap as lightning and ghost as rain and it changed something in my brain chemistry, good apart awe inspiring together (They were so right) and now I can’t get Sparky boom boom man out of my head I may need to rewatch atla.

Have a great day while I go off and try to regain my lost honour!

Hiiiiii Costume Anon! Thank you for gracing us with your presence!

Autistic!Zuko headcanon drop when friend? I wanna hear all his lil quirks and habits.

Thinking of FromSoft games, I've been thinking about an Ellen Ring AU. Idk if people would want it, but I just keep thinking about it. Ghost as the Tarnished, Soap as Ranni, Gaz as Melina. And it'd loosely follow my own playthrough of the games. Outside of Elden Ring, Bloodborn is my favorite of their games. It's so gooooodddd.

Even long after a believable lifespan has passed, rumors of The Outsider's Ghost doing his bidding circulate. Some believe it's an actual Ghost, others say he's The Outsider's lover that was granted eternity to be by his side. Either way, The Outsider and his Ghost are only mentioned in hushed whispers for fear of invoking their wrath.

DP AU, the 141 has a reputation for shit going sideways for their enemies before they're even on the base. Terrorists start resorting to defenses that don't rely on power or the internet because they see how effectively the 141 shuts that shit down. It doesn't help, their guerilla tactics don't effect Ghost. The team absolutely deals with the ghosts of fallen soldiers, but not as often as you'd think. They tend to stay where they died, or cross over, or go back to their families. Some though, will use their newfound deadness to be menaces, and those are the ones our boys deal with. Think Skulker or the Box Ghost, those types of problematic guys.

Duuuuude Sparky Boom Boom Man had such a cool bending ability. Personally I'd want to be a water bender, but fire bending is still the coolest form.

Good luck with your honor my (non gendered) Prince! Thanks again for humoring me 😁

[teecupangel]

After the Solar Flare Desmond lives, gets sent into the past but he opens a restaurant because for some reason it's really popular in whatever time he's in so he just expands and before he knows it, he's written down in history as the most successful restaurant owner (could be whatever ship, could be harem)

Harem it is!

So, for this idea, let’s set up the restaurant first.

Let’s say that, after the Solar Flare, Desmond is in the Gray with Clay who got there because a digital copy of him was sorta encoded into Desmond (“What were you planning to do? Slowly hijack my body?” “I was thinking of transferring my copy into your sperm and getting reborn as your child.” “That’s… that sounds weird?” “Really? Ancient aliens created mankind, you’re the chosen one and messiah and martyr all in one by said ancient aliens, we have technology that can read genetic memories in our DNA so we can relive our ancestors’ lives AND my plan is what makes you go ‘sounds weird’? Come on, Seventeen.” “I didn’t say it was the only weird thing I’ve ever heard!”)

So Desmond and Clay are getting along swimmingly then there’s a pop and Layla’s there. Clay just go “Ah, another dead person ‘rewarded’ by the Isus, come, join us.” and Layla’s just “???” because last she remembered, she gave up her life to save the world and Desmond just goes “Oh, a fellow martyr! Welcome, welcome!”

So they’re just chilling in the endless void called the Gray (and I Spy has been banned since the only thing they can actually ‘spy’ is each other and they got creative with their questions which includes “Is it someone who has the hots for his ancestors?” “Yes.” “That doesn’t help. Both me and Clay have hots for our ancestors!” “I blame our untreated daddy issues.” “Oh my god.”) until Minerva appeared and tells Desmond that she was able to screw with the Calculations before she died. She gives Desmond some kind of ball (that looks like a stone version of the Apple) and tells him that it contains the power to create a pocket dimension, very small, perhaps just a one-story, maybe two-story building, but it should be enough to connect it to the Calculations itself for a brief moment to stabilize it.

Minerva’s idea is that Desmond could use the pocket dimension to exist in the world, at any point in time, and interact with people (but only in that pocket dimension… “Like a portable Gray?” “……… Yes… I supposed you would be correct in that, Innkeeper.” “Did you… did you just literally translate my last name???”)

Minerva tells Desmond to think of a building that the pocket dimension can take the form in and her calling Clay ‘innkeeper’ reminded Desmond of how he wanted to own a restaurant. How, before he landed a job in Bad Weather, he actually helped out in the kitchen of a few diners, sometimes just washing the dishes, other times, cutting ingredients up when things get too busy, and sometimes, a kind cook/owner would teach him an easy dish or two that he can cook if things get super hectic. Then he remembers how the warmest memories he had of his childhood were helping his mother cook when she had the time to do such ‘mundane’ things.

So everyone is surprised when the pocket dimension looks like a restaurant. Layla was expecting him to create a bureau or something similar. Clay expected him to recreate Bad Weather. Minerva just stares at him as she says, “So this is your choice. Very well.”

They checked the restaurant and there was a second floor with bedrooms (with separate bathrooms) that seemed to already been ‘furnished’ to their liking… even Minerva’s. It’s kinda creepy because Layla’s room looks like a fusion of her childhood bedroom and her apartment’s bedroom. Clay guessed that the pocket dimension heard Desmond’s idea of ‘everyone should have their own rooms’ and used their memories to create it.

Strangely enough… there are also a lot of locked rooms that they can’t open. Minerva guessed they are meant to house either ‘guests’ or future ‘employees’. The 2nd floor defies logic as it seemed to be bigger than the first floor but Minerva insists that it would look ‘normal’ on the outside. (“So what you’re saying is it’s bigger-” “No.” “What?” “No. We are not making that reference. Shush.” “Oh, come on!”)

Okay, so Minerva was taking a wild guess here because she didn’t test out the pocket dimension (“Why not?” “I died before I could.” “… yeah, okay, that sounds like a legit reason.”) but she believed that the pocket dimension took Desmond’s desires and rolled it all up into one thing which was this restaurant-in-the-first-floor/living-quarters-in-the-second-floor. This meant that they were meant to ‘get’ more people.

Clay and Desmond turned to stare at each other because, yeah, they already have an idea of who some of those people are.

When they check the restaurant, Desmond is super excited because the pantry is fully stocked with sooooo many things that he wanted to ‘play with’ and Minerva noticed that the perishables were placed in some kind of device that looked very similar to the Isus’ stasis pods. This meant that anything they put there would remain in the state they were when they put it in until they take it out then time will resume for them normally (no sudden aging though so if they plan to age meat, they gotta do it the old fashion way).

Layla is the one who noticed the ‘vending machine’ looking thing with an entire touchscreen just covering the front of it next to the pantry and she tried using it, eyes going wild when she realized what the touchscreen was showing.

It was some kind of online shopping app but the ‘price’ was showing something called “Points” instead. There was some kind of trashcan-like thing attached to it and Clay just dumped a bag of green peas from the pantry into it (“Clay!” “What? No one likes frozen green peas! It’s a stasis pod, WHY would it even have frozen green peas?!”) and the app gave them 3 points for the green peas. Out of curiosity, Layla dropped the 20 dollars she was hiding in her boot and it gave them “2000 points”. They would need to experiment some more but it seemed like actual currency gives them more points than items (or maybe the app just doesn’t like frozen green peas).

Then they saw another touchscreen in a room that looked to be some kind of meeting room and it looked like… a map? No. It was like one of those big screens in meeting rooms and… it was showing a list of years.

Each year was grayed out and next to it were points.

Desmond’s eyes widened as he saw the first year he recognized.

1191 was grayed out and it had “200,711,170,000 points” next to it. He tried to click it and it gives an error of “You have insufficient points to travel to this year. Please add more funds.”

And then Layla went “Oh, oh, oh! 431 BC! It’s not grayed out!” and Desmond clicked it instead.

It then gave them locations. All of the locations were grayed out with Athens needing “10,000 points” and Lakonia needing “30,000 points”. There was only one location that wasn’t grayed out: Megaris. When they clicked that, the only option it gave them was an unlocked “Magara”.

“It seems the pocket dimension is giving this to you as a ‘freebie’.” “Or a tutorial run.”

They tried giving more items from the pantry to the ‘trashcan’ but it only gives them measly ‘1~5 points’ so, yeah, Desmond wasn’t unlocking 1191 anytime soon. It was even the cheapest of the three years Desmond wanted to pick too!

Left with no choice (and 2 coins from Minerva did give them ‘20,000 points’ total), they decided to open a restaurant in the only place they can travel to and get enough money to unlock the other years.

(Oh god. I unintentionally created an isekai OP system for them…)

You know… I said first but, goddamn, that took a while.

Anyway…

Unorganized Note Related to the Restaurant:

Desmond is their main chef with Clay being his sous chef/kitchen lackey, mainly because Desmond did have a bit of experience with cooking (he has the most experience among the four of them anyway) and Clay used to part-time for diners too during his college years.

Layla’s specialty is college-approved cup noodles. She is only allowed to help cut stuff up and stir things until they’re sure she can handle more.

Minerva burned water. Her defense of “I never considered a need to cook” was not accepted (together with the implication that she had human slaves to do it for her) and she has been barred from the kitchen.

This means Minerva is their waitress and Layla tried to get her to smile but she just stares at her. Because of this, Layla has been conscripted to manage the front end and make sure Minerva doesn’t insult anyone by mistake.

The pantry needs to be restocked if they were going to use it, of course, so their points will also be used to make sure they have the food they can serve and sell.

The touchscreen in the kitchen gives a list of food that they can check (thankfully no greyed-out ones). Most of them have warnings of “Desmond Miles is not experienced enough to make this yet. There is a high chance of failure. Will you still risk it?” and “Necessary support not yet acquired. Please try again once necessary support is available.”. All those that give warnings have a red triangle for the ones that have a high chance of failure on the left side of the recipe name and a red x mark for those that need ‘support’ on the same left side. Some even have both x and triangle.

QOL for the kitchen touchscreen: it automatically takes items from the pantry and it appears on some kind of dumbwaiter-like hole below the touchscreen. It will also give messages of ingredients that need to be bought first and poking ‘buy’ also sends those newly bought ingredients to the hole. Very convenient. (like someone who had been so annoyed about having to go thru so many menus to find information on the ingredients necessary for their synthesizing had developed this feature)

They realized what support means when Clay clicked on “Pomidorówka” because he remembered making that with his grandmother. A message of “Support member: Clay Kaczmarek is necessary for this dish for now. Continue?” popped up and they poked ‘yes’ and Clay recognized the recipe as the exact recipe that his grandmother taught her. So… apparently, the necessary support is someone who would know the recipe more than Desmond.

Because there are a lot of recipes, they decide to have a revolving menu instead. If Desmond likes the customer enough, he might be willing to take off-the-menu requests.

Unorganized Notes for the timeline and stuff:

Technically, the restaurant can time-hop to any year they have unlocked at any time (unlocking is a one-time payment, I’m not that evil). It seems that the nearer they are to 2012, the more points they would need.

The restaurant would change the front-end design to fit what is ‘possible’ during that time period. The backend (kitchen + meeting room + 2nd floor) remains the same with the exception of cutleries and utensils that their customers would use.

Desmond is the only person who can leave the pocket dimension BUT all the touchscreens are unavailable if he’s not in the pocket dimension and shows a time limit of 1 hour (which can be ‘charged’ by expending points, 1,000 points = 1 minute). The second floor is also inaccessible when Desmond leaves and anyone on the second floor is teleported to the meeting room the moment Desmond steps out.

It seems that actual currency (regardless of the year) will always give x100 amount of points. (ex: 50 florins will give 5,000 points). Ingredients and other items from the online shopping app seemed to be forever 50% of its original real-life price (by their estimate). There’s also sales and flashsales. The app’s sales have weird titles like “Not Gonna Make A Racist Joke Sale” (no that’s really the name of the sale) for sales on ingredients not normally available in the US and “I Can’t Believe It’s Butter Sale” for all kinds of butter and products with butter or made from butter. Their favorite is “I Don’t Get Paid To Do This So I Wanna Play A Game” sale where everything has a 70%-90% discount but the caveat is that the sale only last for 15 minutes from the moment they tapped ‘Let’s Play!’ from the message.

Their restaurant would become ‘legendary’ because of the good food that might be strange or unfamiliar to a lot of people but the taste is definitely to die for (thank you, modern convenience).

Time flows as normal when they’re in a specific timeline but anyone in the pocket dimension doesn’t seem to age.

Minerva believes that there is some kind of Apple-like mind manipulation at play in the pocket dimension. It’s nothing big, just a simple “this is a normal restaurant with normal-looking employees” and maybe a bit of “you will not think anything is weird here.”.

Desmond would sometimes go to the front when it’s slow or Clay tells him to take a break and that Clay can handle things on his own for a while. That’s usually when he interacts with the customers.

While they can only ‘take’ a few as employees, their actions in the timeline do change things… a bit. Maybe some who were meant to die don’t, maybe they get a different ending… etc.

Unorganized Notes for the Layla Trilogy:

Kassandra does notice that something is weird about the restaurant but Layla seems friendly enough so she keeps coming back (maybe even starts to flirt with Layla?).

Kassandra finally sees that something is weird about the restaurant after she returns from Atlantis. This gives a message of “Kassandra’s room has been unlocked” in all the touchscreens. They bring Kassandra to the second floor and she opens the door. The room looks like a mix of her bedroom when she was a child, when she was in Kephallonia, and the home she had in Ionian Watch. On the bed was a box which she picked up. Inside is a note that says “If you drink this, you will become part of this dimension. A copy will be created to ensure that your remaining tasks as dictated by the Calculations will be fulfilled and keep the timeline stable. Warning: becoming a denizen of this dimension will mean you will be unable to leave.” and inside the box is a small bottle with an unknown liquid inside.

Considering Kassandra is effectively an immortal in canon so it's up to you if she drinks it or she's like the regular who pops in and out regardless of when the restaurant is at the moment.

The ‘cheapest’ year around Bayek’s time is 48 BCE (20,171,027,000) - Alexandria (20,000) - It is also the cheapest year in general.

Bayek becomes a regular because they buy the meat he takes from his kills for a good price, especially if it’s fresh, and also give him a discount on the food. (They don’t really need the meat but Layla insisted they try to find ways to help Bayek and this was their… ‘compromise’)

Eivor’s cheapest year is 873 (20,201,110,000) - Ravensthorpe (20,000). Strangely enough, all the people in Ravensthorpe seem to believe that they had just opened up shop. Randvi even tells Eivor that they were constructing the restaurant while Eivor was away building an alliance. Hytham vouched for them and tells Eivor they are allies of the Hidden Ones. (More mind-bending stuff from the restaurant apparently)

Minerva and Eivor… may have a thing? Minerva knows Eivor is Odin’s Sage and she remembers how Odin slept with her and used her but, at the same time, the attraction is there.

Any feasts and such are now done in the restaurant and Eivor and Randvi pay for ‘catering’.

Mandatory ‘employees’: Bayek and Eivor

Possible mandatory ‘employee’: Kassandra

Potential optional ‘employees’: Hytham - 890 (20,201,110,000), Aya - 30 BCE (20,171,027,000), Alexios (Deimos) - 422 BCE (20,181,002,000)

Unorganized Notes for the Desmond Saga:

Alright, here comes the main harem (I mean, you can totally add anyone to the harem but these are the big three that are mandatory XD)

The cheapest location in 1191 is Jerusalem for 100,000 points (“What the fuck.” “I think the pocket dimension knows what’s in ‘high demand’.”) and Desmond left to check things out (get a feel on when in 1191 they were in) and took around 1 hour and 20 minutes (costing them an additional 20,000 points).

He came back with a barely hanging in there Kadar and the touchscreens all pinged a “Kadar Al-Sayf’s room has been unlocked” and Desmond realized what the pocket dimension was trying to do. He gets Kadar to his room and opened the box, revealing a small bottle with a note attached to it that says “If Kadar Al-Sayf drinks this, he will become part of this dimension. As his part of the Calculations have already been completed, no replica will be made however, as a denizen of this dimension, Kadar Al-Sayf cannot leave this pocket dimension.”

Desmond asks Kadar if he wants to live no matter what and Kadar nods. Kadar is saved but he’s stuck in the restaurant now. He doesn’t seem to mind and admits that he became an Assassin because it’s what was expected of him. He likes cooking and helping Desmond. Kadar is a possible harem candidate but not mandatory.

Kadar also unlocks a few of the recipes and he’s the reason why Desmond realized that some of the ‘necessary supports’ have “????” in the recipe. One of them was noted as: “???? Kadar Al-Sayf ????” and Kadar mentioned how his brother could make that specific food better which makes Desmond believe that the “????” are other possible supports and it’s a hierarchy of who can make it best (from best to worst(?)/meh(?))

Kadar waits until an informant he trusts goes to the restaurant and asks the informant to tell Malik that he’s here but to not report it to anyone else and Malik visits. Kadar lies to Malik, saying that he is hiding in the kitchens so Al Mualim wouldn’t know he’s alive… because he doesn’t want to be an Assassin. This does drive a wedge between the brothers but Malik keeps quiet about Kadar’s survival and becomes a regular.

Altaïr visits the restaurant because Malik wasn’t in the bureau and he’s annoyed. Minerva and Altaïr starts glaring at each other because Altaïr is rude and Minerva is more rude so Desmond goes out to take care of Altaïr’s table while Malik is in the private tables (usually used for big party) so he can talk to Kadar and he wants Altaïr to wait… for a while.

Once it becomes clear that Malik was planning to make Altaïr for quite a while, Desmond just gives up and sits with Altaïr and talks to him (“Flirt with him.” “It’s not flirting.” “Uh-huh, Layla…” “Definitely flirting.” “Eivor.” “The stars in your eyes do not lie, Desmond.” “Minerva.” “Yes.” “Any objection from the peanut gallery? No? In conclusion: flirting!”)

After that, Altaïr becomes a regular, even going to Jerusalem on the way to his next mission even if it’s… not really on the way.

Altaïr is the first person to receive a takeout box (“I think they call that a bento box of love.” “No, it’s not.” “Desmond… you ordered the goddamn bento box from the app. It's even one of those expensive ones that keeps the food warm for hours.” “It was on sale.” “Uh-huh. You have anything to say, Kadar? You helped him make that bento box.” “It’s not a bent-” “I made the heart-shaped carrots!” “KADAR!” “I got your back, Desmond! ( ´ ▽ ` )b” “Oh my god.”)

Anyway, uuuhhh… Altaïr and Desmond start a relationship and Altaïr’s room is unlocked after Al Mualim’s death and he visits the restaurant on his way to Acre (it’s… it’s not the optimal route to take, Altaïr.) to talk to Desmond because the Apple showed him a vision of Desmond. Altaïr drinks it without hesitation and his copy is created in the room itself. It asks for Altaïr’s Apple and he gives it to the copy. They watch as the copy leaves the restaurant then… decide that the restaurant is closed for the day since their head chef was ‘busy’ celebrating.

Depending on which Ezio you’ll like to add to the restaurant/harem, the cheapest year would be AC2!Ezio: 1476 (200,911,170,000) - Monteriggioni for 100,000 points, ACB!Ezio: 1503 (201,011,160,000) - Rome (Tiber Island) for 100,000 points, ACR!Ezio: 1511 (201,111,150,000) - Constantinople (Galata District) for 100,000 points.

If you choose AC2!Ezio: he and Desmond start talking whenever he visits. Once he sees Minerva’s message, he recognized her as the quiet waitress Minerva and that’s when he’ll learn the truth from Desmond and the others. That’s also when he learned that the guy he had been flirting with was in a relationship with the legendary Altaïr Ibn-La'Ahad.

If it wasn’t AC2!Ezio, Ezio would learn of Desmond early on because he recognized Minerva. Minerva likes to call him ‘prophet’ too so the jig is up before it could even begin. Ezio is a bit wary at first but he keeps coming back anyway because he has questions. Also… he just likes talking to Desmond. He’s a regular and knows about Altaïr but also knows that Altaïr seems okay with him flirting with Desmond. He and Desmond start a relationship around the midway point of ACB/ACR and is the first non-’employee’ to ever visit the second floor. (Not counting Kadar)

His room unlocks after (AC2) recovering the Apple and returning to Monteriggioni, (ACB) letting gravity take care of Cesare, and (ACR) visiting the library underneath Masyaf seeing the bones of Altaïr’s replica.

The cheapest year for Ratonhnhaké:ton is 1776 (201,210,300,000) - Davenport (100,000). Like Ravensthorpe, the people of the homestead seemed to believe that they helped build the restaurant.

Ratonhnhaké:ton becomes a regular and visits every time he returned to the homestead. As if to counter the lack of customers/regulars, the sales they get in this time period have a x1000 modifier instead. (“Where was this in Ravensthorpe, huh?!” “Stop shouting at the touchscreen. Randvi and Eivor kept us afloat and profiting, remember? Achilles can’t do that here.”)

Desmond tried to save Haytham but was unable to because of the limitations.

Ratonhnhaké:ton’s door unlocks when he gets the Apple from Washington and he joins the restaurant after trying to look for his village for three more years.

Ratonhnhaké:ton only starts a relationship with Desmond after he joins the restaurant.

Mandatory ‘employees’: Kadar, Altaïr (mandatory harem member), Ezio (mandatory harem member) and Ratonhnhaké:ton (mandatory harem member)

Potential optional ‘employees’: Adha - 1190 (200,802,050,000), Malik Al-Sayf - 1226 (200,711,170,000), Maria Thorpe - 1228 (200,711,170,000), Darim Ibn-La'Ahad - 1260 (201,111,150,000), Sef Ibn-La'Ahad - 1226 (201,111,150,000), Federico Auditore - 1476 (200,911,170,000), Yusuf Tazim - 1512 (201,111,150,000), Aveline de Grandpré - 1777 (201,210,300,000)

Hey, teecup, why are there a lot of AC1 characters??? Ah, it’s not that there are a lot of AC1 characters, it’s that there are a lot of Ibn-La'Ahad characters. I wonder why.

Unorganized Notes for the Unnamed MC Saga:

Alright, all mandatory employees here are possible harem candidates but not mandatory harem members. (actually, the same can be said for anyone that can become an employee of the time-hopping pocket dimension, especially Haytham and Edward)

Speaking of Edward Kenway! The cheapest is 1717 (201,310,290,000) - Nassau (100,000) and the restaurant sorta takes over the already established tavern there. Anne Bonny seemed to believe that she works there from 8 to 5 as a waitress and everyone just rolls with it. Especially since she calls Minerva ‘Minnie’.

Edward and the rest of his pirate ‘friends’ are regulars. Edward starts getting close to Ratonhnhaké:ton who keeps quiet about their blood relation.

They actually time-travel to 1725 (201,310,290,000) - London (100,000) and Edward is happy to see them and seemed to believe that they have opened shop in London so they stay for a while… saving up for their next time-hop. During that time, Edward and his family became regulars and young Haytham likes following Ratonhnhaké:ton around. Edward’s room finally opens on December 3, 1735 and Ratonhnhaké:ton tells him the importance of the date. If he returns home, he will die, Jennifer will be sold off and Haytham will become a Templar.

Edward refuses to drink the bottle and leaves the restaurant. Ratonhnhaké:ton knew he would pick that choice and he accepts it… then notice that the box was empty. Edward had taken the bottle.

Edward manages to get Jennifer to safety but he’s too wounded to do anything else. Desmond gets there in time to help Edward drink the bottle, hoping that it would do something. It didn’t and Edward dies in his arms instead.

When he returns to the restaurant, he learns that Edward appeared in his room and his last memory was Desmond helping him drink the bottle which meant that the Edward Desmond saw died was his replica.

They stayed to make sure Jennifer was safe (who gets taken in by the Brotherhood and smuggled out of London while Tessa and Haytham Kenway are taken by Birch to an unknown location) before Edward requests that they try to save Haytham.

Minerva warns that they cannot make any big waves. This pocket dimension wasn’t meant to change what will come to pass. It was always meant to give Desmond a reward that he desires. Desmond argues that what he desires most is to save as many people as he can so he agrees to Edward’s request.

The possible year they thought of is 1756 (201,411,111,000) - New York (100,000). One of their regulars is Shay Cormac and Ratonhnhaké:ton knows him although they seem to have to wait for a bit for Shay Cormac to meet Haytham Kenway. They asked Shay to give a message to Haytham.

So Shay kinda becomes… a tagalong to the entire Kenway drama and learns about the ‘magic’ of the restaurant after Edward shows up and Haytham recognized him as his long dead father.

I have no idea if Shay and Haytham should have rooms. It’ll be a bit awkward if they do. If they do get rooms, Haytham’s room will unlock the day he is about to meet Ratonhnhaké:ton for the first time while Shay’s door unlocks after Haytham’s death and he returns to New York because he assumed the restaurant was still there (it was… but that’s because they need more funds before they can time-hop again).

They time-hop to Paris (100,000) in 1789 (201,411,110,000) because… uuuhh… someone bought Les Mis in the app and now a few of them wants to know just how accurate Les Mis is? IDK, man, it’s getting late and I want to finish this before I go sleep. Future!me will think of a nicer reason. Or you know, keep that reason ‘cause my tired mind thinks it’s funny.

Okay, so… for this one, it would be fun if the restaurant takes over Café Théâtre and Arno’s headquarters is transferred next door. Technically, Arno would become their ‘landlord’ (“Oh god, we’re renting now???” “Capitalism.” “That is not a reason!”)

Ezio takes Arno as his ‘budding investor’ student. Clay gets roped in because Ezio believed that he and Clay should have family quality time. Arno thinks they’re cousins.

Arno’s room opens after he returns to Paris after the Dead Kings DLC (they can also time-hop to Saint-Denis in 1794 for 300,000 + 201,501,150,000 points. Their call.)

They go to London (100,000) in 1868 (201,510,230,000) because Edward wanted to check on what happened to the Kenway mansion, I guess? Anyway, because they saved Jennifer, her descendant is now the mentor of the London Assassins but the Kenway mansion has been abandoned because… well… Templars.

It doesn’t really change Syndicate’s plot all that much. Only that Jayadeep is reporting to the mentor who had specifically told him not to do anything because Starrick has dug his claws too deeply in London already. Trying to assassinate him now (and his allies) would only fuck them up later on if they don’t have a fallout plan in place.

The Frye twins don’t have a fallout plan in place but that’s really not all that important to the restaurant plot, I guess?

Anyway, the restaurant gets the Rooks as regular. If we’re not making Arno or/and Jacob harem members, Jacob flirts with Arno badly and you can spin this as FrenchFrye. If they are harem members, FrenchFrye is also possible and it’s a case of FrenchFrye + Desmond. Go wild.

God, I may be getting too sleepy, I think this block might be more ‘suggestions’ than actual plot points, sorry, nonny

Anyway, Evie’s room opens after Starrick is dealt with. (and she might have an extra bottle for a special someone, hhhmmm?) Jacob believes he’s not been ‘chosen’ but that’s fine with him.

They might have time-hop somewhere else for a while then returned to London (100,000) in 1888 (201,512,150,000) where they learn that Jacob is missing.

Desmond takes Evie’s place since she’s stuck in the pocket dimension and Jack the Ripper DLC happens. At the end, Jacob’s room opens and he joins the restaurant.

Mandatory ‘employees’: Arno, Evie, Jacob

Possible mandatory ‘employees’: Shay, Haytham, Jayadeep (for Evie)

Potential optional ‘employees’: Anne Bonny and Mary Read - 1721 (201,310,290,000), Adéwalé - 1758 (201,402,180,000), Élise de la Serre - 1794 (201,411,110,000), Lydia Frye - 1919 (201,510,230,000)

Modern Day Era and Other Unorganized Notes (Honestly I just cut the notes up because blocks have a character limit and an entire list is considered 1 block)

If you think the whole ‘can’t leave’ part is too much, it’s a lie. There’s an item in the shopping app that does let them ‘leave’ in the sense that they will have the same limitation as Desmond does. It’s a tacky-looking bracelet called “Break Time Pass” that can be purchased for “99,999,999,999,999” points. It’s one of the most expensive items in the app, it does not appear if searched or if they use the ‘highest price first’ sort in the ‘all items’ page, its ‘store’ can only be found by going thru a lot of pages and it will never go on sale BUT it can be purchased as many times as they want and anyone can use it.

I know there are too many people for a restaurant but… you know… shifts and stuff.

Potential optional ‘employees’: Basim Ibn Ishaq - 2024 (20,231,012,000,000), Shaun Hastings and Rebecca Crane - 2025 (20,091,117,000,000), Lucy Stillman - 2012 (20,071,117,000,000), Lucas Clarkson (possibly also Darcy) - 2029 (20,201,029,000,000) (Possible timeline anomaly, Minerva believes that this year is an offshoot of some kind and not the main timeline that they came from)

[insipid-drivel]

Hey, you. Yes, you. When was the last time you remembered to go pee? Now do me a favor on your way to the bathroom and stand on the very tips of your toes if you can, and then drop down with your full weight onto your heels.

Did it suddenly hurt somewhere in your back/abdomen on one or both sides? Congratulations! You may have a kidney infection! Get to urgent care/the ER ASAP because you need antibiotics before the infection spreads! It probably started out as a UTI or bladder infection you didn’t notice or that didn’t respond to medication the first time - superbugs are real, y’all.

No shame. Asymptomatic UTIs and bladder infections are surprisingly common and sometimes manifest with as little as an increased or decreased need to go to the bathroom. Some people get very ill with them because they have sensitivities to things like bath soap and are used to ignoring urinary pain. It happens all the time, is a major contributor to hospital/doctor bills, can be deadly, and about 40% of all AFAB people are destined to get a urinary infection of some kind in their lifetime. They’re less common in AMAB people (about 12% likelihood), but just as hazardous if left untreated. An untreated urinary infection can lead to Urosepsis, which isn’t nearly as fun as Eurovision. Urosepsis has a 30%-40% mortality rate.

For those interested, here’s how and why your piss pipes can turn dangerous: 

Kidney infections can be, and sometimes are, lethal. That UTI you had that resolved without antibiotics? Well, you got lucky, assuming you’re sure the initial infection cleared up on its own. Most kidney infections start out as urinary tract infections. It’s most usually caused by E. Coli, which is present on most surfaces, including other people’s skin. E. Coli is usually harmless unless it manages to infect, and if you notice that you get UTIs whenever you’re sexually active, a very common cause is a sensitivity to the bacteria natural to your partner’s body; you can reduce your chances of an infection by washing before sex and making sure you go pee as soon as you’re done to literally rinse out your urethra. Condoms and dental dams can also help depending upon your body chemistry, but not always. Properly using a bidet (they come in portable travel-size models now for like, $30, Americans) can also drastically help reduce your risk of an infection.

The problem is that the renal (pee) system is all connected by tubes and hoses that can be very easy for bacteria to climb. Here’s a very generic, non-gendered diagram:

(source)

Regardless of what you’ve got from a reproductive standpoint, that’s pretty much it! Same wiring and everything, save for that people who are AFAB aren’t typically born with prostates, which isn’t part of the renal system at all. People with short urethras (AFAB people, intersex, endocrine syndrome, etc) contract UTIS and bladder infections. AFAB or AFAB-similar people have a 40% likelihood of contracting a common UTI at least once in their lives. AMAB people only have about a 12% chance. The difference is so drastic because said AMAB people have pretty average external genitalia and therefore a much longer urethra than average for bacteria to try to survive colonizing. Drinking water and going to the bathroom regularly are highly effective at preventing a renal infection, because the bacteria literally has to climb its way from the urethra to the kidneys. Urinating helps to wash it out. Depending upon your immune system, it can take days or even weeks before the bacteria reaches your kidneys if that’s what’s going to happen.

Not only are kidney infections incredibly painful (There Will Be Blood), but those yellow nodules on top of the kidneys in that diagram I posted up there? Those are your adrenal glands. Where all of your adrenaline comes from. Those major veins and arteries also can give the bacteria unmitigated access to the bloodstream, which generally leads to sepsis, shock, and death. If your adrenal glands are infected, it can cause them to release dangerous amounts of adrenaline that can stress, damage, and even cause the heart to stop.

And no, cranberry juice and cranberry supplements will not cure you. If you have a full-blown infection, go to the doctor. You need a full course of antibiotics at the very least and probably urinary painkillers. AZO makes an over-the-counter brand in the US. It is non-addictive, temporarily stops the pain, but dyes your pee an electric orange color that will stain your underwear (fun fact: if you’re a swimmer or diver you can get a prescription for a version that turns your pee blue instead so nobody can see you pee in the water; my mom used it when she was a SCUBA diver). AZO is also responsible for making UTI home-test kits that you can buy on Amazon. The renal benefits of cranberries is largely a myth. The compound, which is good for a lot of other uses, is called D-Mannose, which kinda-sorta maybe can make it harder for bacteria to stick to the walls of your renal system and more easily flush out when you pee, but you do not want to play chicken with septic shock. It will kick your ass and you will die. If you’re experiencing urinary pain and/or a fever, get to the doctor.

[facewithoutheart]

Shuffle Tag! The ADHD Version where I tell you when and why I’d skip a song…

rules: put your music on shuffle and list the first 10 songs that come up, then tag ten other people

Thanks for the tags @sillyunicorn, @cutestkilla, @prettygoododds, @you-remind-me-of-the-babe, & @iamamythologicalcreature

I’m cheating btw and I’ve put my songs on shuffle but I’m only counting the ones I wouldn’t immediately skip:

1. Bottom by Tool (I’d try this one out but likely would skip fairy quickly; I keep trying to like Tool’s full discography but basically I love Lateralus the album and the song Sober)

1a. Dream of You by Jazz Emu (I liked one of their silly songs on TikTok and impulse added the whole album but I just don’t enjoy it and am too lazy to search and delete.)

2. Queen Bitch by David Bowie (another song I’d try to get through but I’m sorry Bowie fans I just struggle and would probably skip eventually)

3. Mona Lisa by The Lonely Island (would listen to it in its entirety, singing along like the lyrics aren’t “Mona Lisa you’re an overrated piece of shit”; I am obsessed with this movie and this song and now it’s in my head)

4. Your Boyfriend Sucks by The Atari (I would listen up until the part where they talk instead of sing because that part annoys me both in sound and content but I wouldn’t be able to resist listening to at least part of this song for the high school nostalgia)

5. The Ghost Inside by Broken Bell (50/50 chance of me listening up until the chorus and skipping bc I don’t really know this song or making it through the whole thing; it’s peppy so I might finish it)

6. Oh Klahoma by Jack Stauber (would probably play this in most of its entirety, especially right now because this gives me such Fall vibes and I am hurting for cooler weather)

6a. Passenger Seat by Death Cab for Cutie (instant skip; sorry ‘bout ya Transatlanticism but I like very few of your songs)

7. Schism by Tool (100% would listen to this song in its entirety, scream the lyrics, probably close my eyes while singing, “Cold silence has a tendency to atrophy any sense of compassion,” which I know by heart y’all, no faltering, I know the pieces fit because I watched them fall away, mildewed and smoldering, okay I swear I’ll stop. Remember when I said I liked Lateralus??)

7a. Red and Black from the Original London Les Mis Soundtrack (sorry Broadway I listen to, like, three songs from this soundtrack and I’d nope out of this song asap)

8. No Such Thing by John Mayer (ok I know he’s a total dick but this song is a banger and I’ll scream the lyrics while thinking of my friend from high school sharing this song before a swim meet, all of us listening in on her burnt CD that she played on a portable player, because a) it’s a sweet memory and b) she’s since passed and I love that this is one of the ways I get to honor her)

9. Monuments and Melodies by Incubus (shit this is one of the few Incubus songs I don’t know very well; I’d probably listen curiously for a few minutes then skip onward hoping my shuffle will take pity on me and play another song later that I’m more likely to know)

10. Love Is Colder Than Death (EP Version) by The Virgins (would play for half the song before getting annoyed it’s different than the album version)

Tagging five peeps @skeedelvee (look I failed the three-skip game!) @tea-brigade (give me your songs I know they’re good) @palimpsessed (hi I miss you) @stardustasincocaine (are these unhinged? Please please) & new friend @best--dress (hi show me your songs?)

[inariter]

Things Change-4 (Duskwood x Reader)

Masterlist:

Things Change-1

Things Change-2

Things Change-3

Things Change-4

Things Change-5 

                                                         --------  

Complications, fun little things life likes to throw your way. And you can either embrace them, find solutions, and resolve it. Or you can simply run and avoid it until it has finally hunted you down. 

I’ve faced my fair share of complications. Most of the time, I’ve tried to ignore them, to convince myself that I’m fine when I’m anything but. I try to shove it so far down in some hopes it might resolve on it’s own.

Never seems to work no matter how much I try again and again.

And now...now, another one has been thrown my way.

Your heart is a funny thing, it can want so many things at once. It can sway either way, especially when it comes to something called love. Now they say if you’re going to choose between two people, always chose the second. Because if you’ve truly loved the first one, you wouldn’t have fallen for the second.

Now riddle me this, two people have walked into your life. One a wanted individual who can never truly be as open as you want them to be. Who can never be as present as you need them to be. But it’s clear they would do anything to keep you safe and secure, even if it means they risk themselves. In them, you always find a comfort unlike any other. And two, the new person, one who all you’ve heard were these bad things. But when you meet them, they’re anything but. Instead, they can listen for time on end. They make you smile and laugh more than you ever have. They make you feel alive...and they can be there. You know it’s only the start into what may be, feeling there is so much more there than meets the eye.

How I am to choose? How am I to know which one is best?

How do I not let any of this infiltrate this influence me? How can I ever focus on the case on hand?

I don’t know. I don’t know anything anymore. 

And nothing seems to help, only worsening it all.

Because here I stand, in the midst of this chaotic spider web. Trapped like a fly, waiting to be devoured. 

Knowing that someone I’ve called a friend is out there, wrecking havoc on us all. It’s all coming together, my suspicions are only growing. It’s only a matter of time before I’m caught or he is.

It’s the only way any of this can end.

                                                         -----------

And as the night finally quelled down, as the alcohol slowly left her system, (Y/n) could feel her mind begin to clear. 

(Y/n) and Lilly able to piece together the puzzle Jake left behind for them both, now it was only a matter of time before it would come full circle. (Y/n) could see her reservations about the newcomer, understand where she came from. While she said water under the bridge, it would take time to really forgive Lilly for what she did.

And of course, how could she forget Dan, texting her out of the blue. She could imagine how worried he was and he had his own unique way of showing it. Something that warmed her heart to see, especially as they weren’t as different as they thought they were. As they were forming a relationship of their own, beyond the pressures they faced.

Leaving her with Phil, the conversations in person and online resonating deeply with her. Unsure what to think now, much less what to feel. Though she wondered if she gave anything away, if Phil might uncover her own secrets and what he may do with said information.

It was all banking on time now. To see how things may or may not unfold.

So it was as good as time as any to sort the mess of her head as everything began to simmer down for once. (Y/n) looked to her phone then to her portable evidence board. Trying to fill in the missing pieces with hypotheticals but her mind kept wandering back to the night of Jessy’s attack.

(Y/n) knew only a few people knew what Jessy was planning that night. Richy by default being the employer, Phil knew bits when he confronted her but he only knew the rumors surrounding (Y/n). The others, well Dan was in the hospital, Cleo and Thomas were breaking and entering, and Lilly didn’t want to be involved.

“It’s all coming together, Jax. It’s funny, how wary some of them were to me. But in reality, it’s a person closest to them that they should be most wary of.”

A few oddities seemed to be blatantly obvious now she had time to have fun and go see the world beyond her home and computer. It was really proved to be helpful.

“I understand why none of them were able to uncover what happened. Because none of them wanted to face the dirty truth. It’s only a matter of time now.”

Now, she had her growing suspicions and it seemed to go back to one person again and again. Whether she wanted to accept it or not was hard to say. 

Especially given everything. 

(Y/n) knew the others may not accept her suspicions, none of them wanted to think that one of their own could have done this. So for now, she decided to let it play out a bit longer. To see where this road is bound to take her and whether he would move again.

Maybe then, more evidence would present itself. Maybe then, they would be more open to this theory of hers.

Maybe...

                                                       -----------

“This isn’t right, none of this is right!”

“That doesn’t matter right now. We have to look out for ourselves, (Y/n). You think they’re going to let us off the hook? You think it’ll be a slap on the wrist if we spill our guts? We aren’t dumb, little kids any more.”

“And this is the right thing? Can’t you hear yourself, right?! I mean, take a look in the mirror and tell me what you see right now.”

Gesturing at young woman, at all they were doing. For what? To cover their hides, to let someone else take the fall, so that they might have a chance at a decent life. She looked at the group, trying to find a single line of reason between them.

But none of them said a word. None of them could even look her in the eye.

“I’m not sure about you guys but I’m not living with this guilt. I refuse to let things go this way.”

“(Y/n)!”

“Come back! We’ll figure something out.”

“Please!”

Their words fell deaf on her ears as she continued pressing on. Finding her way back to the road, to the town she could barely call a home. 

Not after everything, especially not after this.

And then, with a thump, things went dark.

Ring...Ring...Ring...

                                                        ----------

The sound of her phone ringing woke the sleeping woman, for once she had an entire night of good rest. For once, she didn’t rely on her pills to guide her through a night of dreamless slumber. And for once, she didn’t feel like the waking dead.

And when (Y/n)’s eyes saw the caller id, she almost fell out of bed reaching for her phone.

“Jessy? How are you doing?”

“Better, my body still hurts but it’s not as bad as before. It’s also nice to hear your voice, (Y/n).”

“I’m glad. You know, I’m always here for you if you ever need anything.”

“I know. Though I had hoped our date would have ended better. I would have showed you around my house as we toasted to the night. Until, you know.”

“Jessy, I had a fun time. You got my mind off of everything and I can’t thank you enough.”

Though they both went silence, (Y/n) could imagine Jessy’s giddy smile gracing her face, capturing her many features just nicely.

“(Y/n), are you going to keep your promise? Are you going to take me away from this place when this is all over?”

“I am a woman of my word. I’ll take you away if you still desire it.”

“I want you to.”

“Then it shall happen, m’lady.”

She could hear that laughter that was like honey on the ears. Jessy was slowly becoming the best friend (Y/n) missed on having. While others may mistake it as more, (Y/n) knew where they both stood on these matters. At least (Y/n) hoped she did.

But if this friendship would continue growing, (Y/n) could only imagine where else it would go. How more their friendship would grow and blossom. Something she wouldn’t give up for the world.

“(Y/n), thank you. You’ve done so much for us...for me. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to repay you.”

“Don’t worry about it. It’s what any person with a heart would have done.”

“I don’t think so. Which is why I want to ask something of you. I want you to come to Duskwood, I want to see the woman who has done so much for us in person.”

“Jessy...I don’t know.” 

“I guessed as much.”

“Look, I’ll think about it. There’s no promises but I’ll think about it.”

“I appreciate it. Talk later?”

“Yeah, talk later.”

Sighing, (Y/n) wondered how much longer she would have to put with this farce of hers. She knew it was only going to be a matter of time before word spread around this small town. Word of the new girl passing through and if they were smart enough, they would be able to figure it out.

And lies were no way to keep up the trust that was being built.

So she would only have to wait until the situation needed it so.

[jjtheresidentbaby]

I don’t know if you’re still in the stranger things fandom but…Stancy adopting baby Johnny. That’s all.

Caregiver Stancy adopting Baby Jon headcanons

Ahhhh caregiver Stancy adopting baby Jon!!!!! Oh my lord I love this so much!!!

[ @berrymoos this ask made me think of you & all the time we spend talking about baby Jon 😭😭]

-

So obviously I think this all happens after the season 2 part where they all fight the monster together

Jonny’s a little more reluctant to lean on Steve at first but warms up pretty quickly

They become a duo that Nancy just can’t say no to

Steve’s the more lenient of the caregivers when it comes to him buying Jon toys or an extra scoop of ice cream

Whereas Nancy will let the little one stay up past his bedtime most nights or put on just one more episode of whatever show Johnathans really into

So they even each other out, Steve’s perfectly fine being stricter about putting Jon to bed or cleaning his toys up, Nancy’s definitely okay with cutting baby Jons sugar intake off

They usually meet at Steve or the Byers house depending on what their plans are

If it’s just a movie and some cuddles type of night they’ll most likely be at the Byers house on their couch sprawled atop one another

But if Johnny wants to run around or go swimming they’ll go to Steve’s, he’s got a decently private house with the woods around and his parents aren’t home so they’re never an issue

Going to Nancy’s is a last resort as there’s always too many people around that’ll bother the trio

And they take Steve’s car places, he drives the six kids around and is okay with getting it dirty

They could take Johnathans but honestly Steve would rather only worry about cleaning one vehicle

As Johnny is a messy eater

For such a polite and well mannered baby, he can’t seem to get food in his mouth

Steve and Nancy never noticed just how clumsily Johnathan was until he regressed around them

This is also why he can’t use his camera, he’ll drop it and break it

Nancy takes plenty of pictures though (and Steve’s not opposed to being behind the camera despite all of Johnny’s teasing)

A lot of the time Johnathan will regress closer to night time so they never do super high intensity activities unless it’s planned prior

But they bake a lot

Like way too much for three people to ever eat

Joyce and Dustin’s mom get cookies dropped off almost weekly

The party all have their fair share of treats to trade amongst themselves

Even Hopper gets a box of muffins dropped off at the police station most weeks

Going back to swimming at Steve’s, Johnny loves the water!!

Bath time is his favorite and he has to be practically dragged out

Swimming goes the same, Steve always ends up lifting him to his hip while Nancy wraps a towel around them both

Jon’s bound to have purple lips and a little shiver to him by the end of any water event

This goes for washing dishes too, he likes the sensory of the hot water and suds so he’ll stand at the sink splashing about if left alone

This prompts Steve to take over the task so half the evening isn’t spent trying to lure Johnny away from the sink

This is also why Nancy sets a timer during bath time

The caregivers always try to make getting out of bath time easier/more fun

Duck themed towels, a portable radiator to heat up said towel, fun hairstyles with hair clips, little songs Nancy comes up with, a promise of going swimming the next day or telling Jon when the next bath will be

It only sometimes works, not that the caregivers can care that much, baby Johnathans too cute to ever hold a grudge at

[taito-division]

Among the mountain of presents delivered to her birthday, somehow a certain simple but peculiar package wrapping in the neat piece of cloth has caught her eye.

With a letter attached between the folds of cloth, the renowned MMA fighter and descendant of Viking warriors picks it up and give it some read;

“Hello Iwasaki-san and greetings Taito Division. This letter is from Nara Division and recently this season has become my turn to deliver our birthday blessings on account of the rest of my team www. 

Unfortunately, I still have classes and a work shift today so I can’t deliver them in person, but if you’re reading this, then I guess our presents are safely sent to your home. Now, let me introduce what we’ve chosen as your birthday gifts.

I’ll go with Hi-chan’s first!

He made you the Hourai manju. If I remember correctly, they’re believed to bring happiness and are quite the good picks for the celebration …and also the wedding —That may be why he wants to send both of you some little gifts since we’re a bit late in knowing your good news with Kirumi-san (Well, congratulations again to your wedding!). Maybe we should enjoy life like enjoy these manju; looking plain from the outside, some of us may never expect to find a lot of small colorful manju packed inside unless you want to savor them. 

And next one is Saigo-san’s Narazake. 

Well, it would be a lie if I say I’m not biased to anything related to my hometown (I also don’t know much about liquor btw). Still, I want to insist that the sake from our hometown is the top-graded one! Granted that they are chosen by that picky old man of all people.

And we’ve come to the last;

Japan’s summer has always felt a bit overbearing as of late. Also, at this time around, heat stroke has become rather popular in not a good way. So, it makes me think maybe I should send something that can help beat these crazy heatwaves… 

Hanging around your neck, it’s a portable neck fan; light, rechargeable, and doesn’t contain any blades inside! It has no need to be worried of getting your hairs caught up in the device as well.

Lastly; Happy Birthday, Stay hydrated, and please don’t do too much work-out during the death heat of the day.

—Hope you and your team have a great (and safe) summer

Yuuya Kanata”

Looking at the box wrapped in the red cloth, the MMA fighter cocked an eyebrow as she held the box in one hand and read the letter attached to it in the other. Blinking with her one good eye, she shrugged as she opened the package and looked at the manjū. Biting into one of them, her mouth experienced many different flavors, some good and some... out there. It wasn't bad, but she didn't know if she could eat these things on a daily basis. Shrugging, Eldrid finished it off and left the remaining one for her wife, Kirumi when she returned home.

Looking at the next gift, Eldrid smiled at the sake bottles. Ever since she had married Kirumi, she tried to control her drinking to only three or four times a week. She would just count this as one of those days.

"I'll save you three for later tonight," Eldrid said, putting the bottles in her fridge.

Looking at the other gift, Eldrid's eyes grew as looked at the neck fan. She had been wanting to buy one of these for the longest ever since Summer started but had never found time or had been putting it off. Placing the device around her neck, she turned it on and felt a blast of cold air hit her, making her smile.

"Better break this thing in now while I can." She said as she headed to her room, coming out three minutes later in her jogging outfit. "Yuma, I'm going for a run. Call me if you need something."

With that, the MMA fighter opened the door and started off down the street until she was out of sight. Today was shaping up to be a good birthday.

Thanks for the gift!

[moghedien]

HI IN YOUR RECENT POST YOU SAID YOU HAD A WALKMAN CD PLAYER?!?!?!?! I just wamma if you like,, found it somewhere? Like a thriftstore or something?

I have two. One I found at a flea market with the original remote and headphones that just needed to be cleaned. That’s the one I use. The other one (the blue one) I found at an estate sale, and I don’t use mainly because there’s corrosion in the battery port I never got around to cleaning yet.

But yeah they really aren’t super hard to find if you search around thrift stores/flea markets/garage sales/estate sales. They were common enough back in the day that a lot of people still have one or two just lying around in drawers and it’s just a matter of finding them. If you’re really searching, you can also try local Facebook market place or other sites like and pawn shops, just be aware of like online scammers and price gouging. Realistically you shouldn’t be spending more than around $20-30 for a good working one unless you’re buying some kind of collectors item and those aren’t really super common if we’re talking cd Walkman/discman

eBay can be fine too but kinda hit or miss in pricing. It’s really only super beneficial if you’re looking for a specific model for some reason, and honestly unless you’re like a collector or a level 1000 audiophile, the best cd walkman is gonna be whatever you can find that works for the lowest price. I would definitely suggest hunting for one locally before turning to eBay (which I say as someone who does sell on eBay). It’ll be more satisfying finding one than just buying off of eBay anyway

Other than that, if you’re looking (and I know you didn’t actually ask for advice but I’m just using this as my excuse to share information) avoid sites like Amazon and retrospeckt. Amazon will sell new no name portable cd players, and I would avoid those no matter where you find them. In general, just stick to older Sony ones. Quality wise in both build and sound is gonna be much better than the new no name brands (or the old no name brand ones). Some older ones of like actual brands can be fine too, like Panasonic, but avoid the Craigs and Jensens of the world. You can probably find an older Sony for the same price as a new no name one anyway.

And sites like Retrospeckt just straight up price gouge when it comes to retro electronics. Dont buy a cd player from them. Dont buy an iPod from them. Don’t buy a game boy from them. Their prices are ludicrous for what they’re offering and you are literally better buying from eBay at that point. Accessories and headphones and CDs and the like from them can be reasonably priced, but their prices for the actual tech is insane