#Deborah said she wanted to disappear.

[hishumanbelle]

I'm hungry… for emotions.

+ 18 - part 2.

In the meantime, he pulled out his tentacles that began to invade Deborah's body, caressing her softly. One tentacle positioned itself between her thighs and began to rub on her pants where her clit was. ❝I-I would prefer YOU to do this❞, she whispered in a sigh as she continued to kiss him. ❝Believe me, I want it too, but I would like you to feel ready first❞. She looks in his eyes, and firmly took his hand and brought it inside her panties, already wet. OH… MY… Alastor couldn't hold back feeling her arousal. With a flick of his fingers the tentacles disappeared. He positioned himself under the table, pulled down her pants and panties. He began to caress her thighs, until he went up and nibbled her in the middle. With his long and already hot tongue, he began to tease her clit, while with one finger and then another, he entered and exited from inside her. Slowly, deeply. ❝Ahhh, Alastor… I don't know how long I can resist like this❞. Alastor stiffened more and more at her sweet and delicate tones, he increased the rhythm, his fingers going in and out quickly, while his tongue continued to circle her clit, until she began to tremble, screaming his name over and over again. ❝Good girl❞, he said with a growl. Alastor stood up and held out his hands to her, which she grabbed. He pulled her to her feet and accompanied her to lie down on the table. ❝Now, I WANT TO WATCH YOU WHILE I MAKE YOU CUM, AGAIN❞. Deborah's face turned red. He touched her breasts again, biting her nipples. ❝Your smell… ah!❞, and he began to bite her neck too. ❝YOU ARE MINE, ONLY MINE!!!❞. His eyes turned black, too caught up in desire. His hands caressed her body, reaching her thighs again, where his claws grabbed. She screamed. As he lay on top of her, Deborah could feel his stiffness. And that excited her. ❝Alastor, you are so hard❞. ❝JUST FOR YOU, MY DEAR. ONLY YOURS❞. Deborah became even more excited and tightened her legs around his waist, her body radiating even more heat. ❝I WANT YOU❞, she whispered. Alastor was no longer answering for himself, his mouth was starting to salivate. He pulled out his member that was tightening in his pants, freeing the beast and pushed it inside her slowly. ❝MY SWEET LORD, YOU ARE SO TIGHT❞. Deborah was panting, pain and joy.

[webnovel-deluxe]

Isn't Being A Wicked Woman Much Better? Side Story Chapter 16

i also upload this chapter in my YT, read there to support my effort, click here👉 Link

***

After that, the demon's resistance was quite intense, and there was an incident where the entire outer wall was damaged instead, but this side's power was so overwhelming that it was quickly subdued.

The demon was pierced by the spear of Orix, my exclusive escort knight, who had grown dramatically in the past, and was annihilated.

But I didn't feel the cool feeling inside.

It was because of the words the devil left before he died.

“Even if I disappear, the darkness does not disappear. No matter how many times you catch and kill black magicians, revenge only breeds revenge.”

Priest Maurice, who surrendered himself to an intermediate demon, turns out to be a priest who saved his life once thanks to Miya Binoshu in the past.

Denying the fact that his best friend, Miya, was the vessel for the Great Devil's Descent, he turned to black magic to prove that she was right and misunderstood.

'It's the blood of a high priest, so maybe an intermediate demon was summoned.'

Maybe it was because when Miya displayed the power of a demon disguised as healing power, that power was transferred to the priest.

‘The latter is more conjecture.'

“… The divine power returned before the thought body disappeared, didn't it?”

He watched from the side as I poured out my divine power to catch the thought-form that was about to disappear.

“yes.”

“What exactly was the cause of the divine power leak?”

“Rather than a leak, I think it’s more accurate to say that my subconscious was reluctant to use divine power and interfered with it.”

“.....”

“To be honest, I’m tired of being a saint.”

When the thought body was reminded of the existence of darkness, he realized the need for divine power and was soon able to use it.

However… It was not always easy to confront the evil and vicious demons.

“Deborah.”

“yes.”

“In the past, Princess-sama has lit a lot of candles.”

“.....”

“So, you don't have to burn yourself to light the darkness. Because there are so many people around Princess-sama like that.”

oh I see.

After putting off all my busy schedules for me and looking back at my people who followed me all the way to Hellia, suddenly something hot hit my heart.

No one was forcing me to be a hero, but I was carrying the burden on my own. That is why the divine power did not return.

When I decided not to think of a blue elephant, something similar to thinking about a blue elephant came up.

“I am stupid.”

“The real fool is over there.”

Isidor chuckled at Pope Rega and smiled like a party.

Isidor replaced all the healing stones I received from the Pope with healing stones that were empty of divine power. It will probably look like it's been used up for a purification ritual.

‘Advanced healing stone, eat well.'

A feeling of emptiness in the stomach, as if suddenly taking a digestive aid.

When he was feeling the feeling of fullness given by unearned income, his eyes met the Pope.

“Oh my gosh, saint!”

He approached me with a fuss, and the eyes of the priests and people around me were focused.

“How did you find and destroy a special evil that even holy water does not know to! My faith in St. Mary has grown stronger and deeper!”

"....."

he said fervently.

“At the upcoming monthly event, everyone will be informed about the saint’s activities, and the shrine will provide all support to the saint in addition to the finest healing stones!”

I quickly waved my hand and said what he wanted.

“You don't need to be rush. Since the Pope has given me the Healing Stone out of pure good will, I have only returned it with good intentions.”

“...yes.”

The pope responded with a little patience in his anger.

Still, it was good to try. It would have been right for Susie Goya to show her condolences in front of everyone who had already been robbed, and who had given her saint a healing stone.

“I am very grateful to the Pope.”

From expensive healing stones to relics made from dragon bones. There was no donation angel.

“… Thank you too. It is natural for the temple to spare no effort to support the saint. ”

“Really, I didn’t know you would support me so generously.”

I continued speaking with a smile as benevolent as possible.

“Thanks to the Pope personally visiting the capital and sharing the news about the relics, we are able to recover them before they are further damaged!”

“Huh?...”

At the word recall, he seemed to be at a loss for a moment, and I pressed once more.

“The holy relics will be purified with all my might in the future! Fortunately, the contamination didn't go away if I had it, the incarnation of the saint was in trouble, so no more worries!”

“It’s been a while since I’ve shown such a great divinity, until I dealt with the remnants of the temple and purify the holy things....”

“You are amazing! Saint!”

Isidor incited me by clearly listing my actions, and Oryx, the simplest, responded to the instigation and clapped with a huge hand.

clap clap!

In applause, I gazed intently at the priests next to the Pope.

“President Henri, High Priest Louis, and Priest Jacques. I will remember your generous help even when I return to the capital.”

The names of the high-ranking priests who participated in the mid-level demon investigation were known in advance through Isidor. There is no need to carry the entire temple and pretend.

“Sister remembers my name… !”

“Huh, hey, it’s an honor!”

“I, we will never forget the visit of Saint ”

When I personally called out their name, even the high-ranking priests of Hellia, who had been in a hurry, seemed to be visibly happy and shaken.

So, with the applause pop, my itinerary in Hellia came to an end.

***

“These white marbles were dragon fangs.”

I tinkered with the rosary and admired it.

The invincible material that can contain all kinds of power, including divine power, mana, and magic, is the dragon's bone.

'It even contained a strong thought-form.'

“Princess, where are you going to use that thing? Are you going to keep it like that?”

“yes. I plan to keep it.”

In the past, Isidor was displeased with me, who loved the rosary, even though it was an object he had carved himself.

'It's just that he treated himself as a black history in his previous life.'

“You can sell it to other countries at a very, very high price. I will process it properly so that no one notices that it is a holy relic brought from the temple.”

He reached out a hand of seduction, but I shook my head.

“I think there are probably people I want to give it to.”

At my words, Isidor's expression became more serious.

“What… . Hmm! Who are they?”

“Our babies.”

“!”

His face turned bright red like a ripe apple in an instant.

“Wh, why?”

“I thought I was going too far ahead, but when the princess said that, my heart raced… .”

Isidor murmured.

“How the hell have you gone so far? ? Did you make plans for your retirement in advance like I did?”

“I even thought about how to donate gifts to my great-grandchildren.”

“… I have gone very far.”

I overlooked the inheritance of wealth... . It is also unusual because it is not the blood of a dragon.

He looked at the rosary in my hand with a slightly reminded face, and after a while he spoke softly.

“… What we give to our children is unconditional approval.”

I swallowed my laughter as I listened to the shy voice and looked up at the branches with green shoots. One warm spring was coming.

5. May's Bride

“.....”

Early in the morning, Duke Seymour came out of the annex and gazed into the garden full of red roses.

In May, the garden becomes brighter day by day. Every time she went for a walk, the fresh scent of flowers filled her nostrils, just like when she was there.

- Georgesah.

Duke Seymour looked at the dewy red roses and recalled the vivid remnants of a dream last night.

Until now, even in my dreams, I didn't show you a single piece of clothing... The wife in my dream last night was so vivid. So much so that I can even feel the scent of lilac that she always carries.

My wife was wearing a white dress, holding the bouquet I had offered her in the past.

As far as the Duke can remember, he called his name in the form of the most daunting moment.

With a soft smile on his lips, he gently wrapped his arms around him. It was also lightly patted on the back of her hand. As if encouraging them that you are doing well.

Even though it was a dream, it felt kind and warm.

‘Did I have such a dream because it was May?'

Because the wife was the bride of May.

In the Empire, the most weddings took place in May. Not only because of the mild and warm weather, but also because there is a legend that the goddess in charge of fertility and fertility disappeared in winter and then resurrected in May.

'May is the most appropriate time for a wedding. '

Perhaps because of this tale, there was a superstition that a bride getting married in May would be happy, and the Duke also thought that May would be better if his daughter got married.

'By the way, I'm afraid I'll graduate early.'

My studies must have been completed, and after the preparations for the wedding that flowed like water, the wedding to the Duke of Visconti was already approaching.

'I feel more peaceful than I thought.'

I thought it would be very sad.

Lately, there have been times when I feel like my daughter is already married.

Hey, maybe it's because of Isidor, who comes to visit me like a son-in-law.

Isidor often came to the townhouse to teach Enrique's swordsmanship, even when Deborah wasn't there. He is a genius who can handle magic and sword at the same time, and in fact, Enrique did not have a good teacher.

“By the way, why is the youngest suddenly obsessed with swordsmanship… ?”

I was a little puzzled, but due to moderate exercise, the child's complexion was improving day by day, so I left it alone.

Inspection on Seymour.

In the past, I would have objected with a sense of rejection, but now that I see that it is not so, I wonder if I am old.

'Did Deborah say she was flexible?'

Duke Seymour looked at Enrique and Isidor wielding wooden swords in the backyard beyond the garden for a moment, then returned to his office to return to work.

Anyway, it's still too early for the youngest to do what he wants to do.

Target is 20 Likes and i will upload the next chapter.

[phoenix-joy]

Excerpt:

Edel said the archives were founded because she and members of a group called the Gay Academic Union, which worked to make academia more accepting of LGBTQ people in the ‘70s, began talking about how difficult it was to find reliable information about lesbian history. 

“A few of us said, ‘Hey, why don’t we just start collecting our history? We’re the ones who best know what we need, what we want. Why let other people do that for us, because they’ll control our history?’” recalled Edel, who now splits her time between New Jersey and Arizona with her partner. “We were all people who really knew that our history was disappearing too quickly.”

[...]

The Lesbian Herstory Archives hosts a variety of events, such as a weekly “Lez Craft!” night on Thursdays. For its 50th anniversary, the organization is hosting a “Dyke Prom” in May at a loft in Brooklyn, though Edel noted that the event is already sold out. 

When asked about goals for the next 50 years, she said the archives have outgrown the Brooklyn space and will need to move soon.

“Fifty years is too hard to say,” Edel said. “We leave that in the hands of the next generation. I certainly won’t be around, and I’m just hoping that it still will be mission-driven so that we reflect the amazing complexity of our communities.” /endquote

Photos from article:

[blackacre13]

Debbie giving birth at home and the gang panics

“Why the hell isn’t Lou here?” Tammy shouted, slamming the door closed behind her as she stormed into the loft.

“And good afternoon to you too, Tammy,” Debbie smiled cooly, sipping from a mug, casually on the couch.

“Deborah.”

“Tamara.”

“Why isn’t your wife home, Debbie? You swore,” she hissed, stalking forward, snatching the mug from the brunette’s hands.

“It’s decaf,” Debbie rolled her eyes. “And she’s casing a job.”

“Casing a job?” Tammy scoffed. “Are you—are you two insane? Is Lou insane? She’s out doing god knows what while you’re here alone and—“

“She doesn’t know the contractions started,” Debbie waved her off, trying to lazily snatch back the mug of tea. “Can I please have my drink? I hate to make excuses, you know. But I’m gonna play the I’m in labor card.”

“Jesus, Debbie. Give me your phone. I’m calling your wife.”

“You’re not my mother,” the brunette groaned, sinking back against the couch, abandoning the mug thievery attempts as she clutched her stomach.

“No, but you’re about to be one and you’re acting like a child,” Tammy hissed. “So I’m calling your wife.”

“Go right ahead,” Debbie mumbled, closing her eyes. “But that’s not going to change anything.”

“What are you talking about?” The other woman exhaled, the phone against her ear as she waited for Lou to answer.

“Because I’m not going to the hospital,” Debbie shrugged. “I’m just going to keep her in there a little longer. Today’s not feeling like the day.”

Tammy stared at her incredulously, not sure whether Debbie was joking or completely serious. And not sure which was worse in this instance.

“Debs, you don’t have much of a choice, honey,” Tammy frowned, holding her finger up as Lou answered, only to pull the phone away from her ear less than thirty seconds later, Debbie hearing Lou’s shouts from across the room without speakerphone.

“I take it she’s upset I didn’t call her,” Debbie winced. “But I’m still not having the baby today. I’m not leaving this loft. And this baby isn’t leaving me.”

“She wants to talk to you,” Tammy whispered, holding the phone up to Debbie’s ear as she sucked in a breath.

“Debbie.”

“Hi, baby. How’s the job going?” Debbie purred, her stubborn fear disappearing as she put on a facade for Lou. “I know you think that one mark is a long shot. But if we put you in there, and you flirt with him, I mean come on. He’s done for.”

“Deborah,” the blonde exhaled, and Debbie knew she was pinching the bridge of her nose just the way Danny used to do when he wanted to strangle his sister. “Why didn’t you tell me your water broke?”

“Lou, baby, you know I didn’t want to bother you while you were out—and Tammy’s here now and—“

“Don’t bullshit me, Debs,” Lou sighed. “How long ago?”

“I don’t know,” Debbie lied. “Like ten, fifteen—“

“Debbie.”

“About two hours ago,” the brunette squeaked, practically feeling the heat of rage simmer through the phone.

“And the contractions?”

“Well, baby, you said that you wanted to be the one who timed them with your Rolex and—“

“Honey, I’m being serious,” Lou exhaled. “I need to take care of you. I need to take care of the baby. You’re my girls. Can you still talk through them?”

“Yeah,” Debbie nodded. “Promise, baby.”

“Okay,” Lou breathed, sounding a bit lighter. “Okay, I’m headed home. And I’ll—let me take a cab. I’ll leave the bike here. Have Tammy start timing the contractions and if you can’t talk or breathe through them, you make sure she calls me, okay? We’re doing this safely, Debs. I need you both safe.”

The two exchanged I love you’s and Debbie sheepishly handed the phone back to Tammy, who remained by her side with her hands on her hips glaring at her.

“You didn’t tell her.”

“Tell her what?” Debbie rolled her eyes.

“That you’re scared,” Tammy sighed, sitting down beside her. “Which is perfectly normal. Actually it’s comforting. A reminder that the great Deborah Ocean is actually a human being.”

“I’m not scared, Tammy,” Debbie lied, her nostrils flaring. “And this isn’t even that bad. I was wrong. I’m totally fine to—Jesus Fucking Fuck. What was that?”

“God, Lou’s going to murder us both,” Tammy cried, taking a hold of Debbie, putting her hands on her shoulder and back. “They’re getting closer together. Alright? I need you to breathe through them with me and once you get through this next stretch. We have to call Lou back.”

“Oh my god, I waited too long, Tam. I should’ve told her. Why didn’t I tell her? I should’ve—“ Debbie let out a strangled sound, her hand digging into Tammy’s as she shared a pained look with the Ocean, wishing there was more she could do.

“Dude, what is going on in here?” Constance asked, swinging the door open, literal ice cream cone in hand as Amita rushed in beside her.

“Is she coming? Debbie, is the baby coming?” Amita squealed.

“Ew,” Daphne sighed, peering over the two younger women. “Not my scene. No.”

“Easy, dear,” Rose whispered, elbowing her in the gut.

“Can you all please get in here and for once in your life actually be helpful? Someone get Lou on the phone please. And someone start timing these contractions with me. Deb, we’re gonna have to prep you for the hospital.”

“Why isn’t pops here?” Nine asked, opening up her laptop. “I can get you in the system easy. Fuck a waiting room.”

“I think the baby will help with the urgency, love,” Rose muttered, closing the door behind the group.

“It’s fine,” Debbie gritted, swatting at Tammy as she let out a mangled grunt. “I’m fine. You guys just watch tv or something. I don’t know. Let me just—Fuck. God, why does this hurt?”

“Dad’s two blocks away!” Constance yelled. “Should I ask if she can stop for some snacks. Or pizza? We all feeling pizza?” No one in the group responded, merely wincing as they heard a string of extremities shouting through the phone in response instead.

Debbie let out a low grunt that had Amita and Tammy looking at her with concern.

“Deb sounds like a whale,” Amita whispered, Constance too scarred from Lou’s yelling to laugh or respond.

“Debbie, I think the hospital is out of the question,” Tammy smiled nervously. “How do you feel about having your baby girl right here, right now?”

“What the bloody Fucking hell is going on?” Lou yelled, the door rattling against its hinges as she threw it open, stomping over the couch, scooping Debbie up into her arms.

“Let’s maybe not pick up your wife who’s in labor?” Tammy winced.

“It’s fine,” Debbie panted, looking panicked as Lou kept hold of her, furiously glancing between her wife and her watch. “We expected this. We prepared for this.”

“Yep,” Nine swallowed. “That’s clear.”

[localvoidcat]

I AN PERCEIVING YOUR OCs BOY. household reverie sounds,,, so cool. i would like more story,,, fmr does too!!! ohh and hawthorne chronicles,,, and i forgot the name of the other one with the scientists but!!! !!!!!!!!! rotating your ocs in my mind

HEHEHE okay so. god what can i say about each one. i've got the plots of all of them recently reblogged i think so i'll just put some random info here

household reverie! i've actually been working more on darcy's kids (dean, danny, and daphne). it's very clear that darcy was most proud of dean, being the oldest + the most high achieving of his kids. and then daphne was clearly loved because she was the youngest and she looked like deborah and all that.

this left danny, who darcy still cared about but definitely held to standards that danny didn't feel they (note: danny technically uses they/them, but this isn't acknowledged in the story. until a certain part maybe) could reach those + be like their older brother. however, none of this tension is shown in the fantasy, because that would mess with the portrayal of the ideal family. the more that fantasy gets deconstructed, the more we get to see how everyone was actually feeling which i think is fun

full moon rising. now i've been thinking more about josh and his debt to mortem, and how at first josh. really didnt notice this. his main goal was just to not be killed again, and he disregarded all that stuff about needing to serve his god and all that as just the usual protocol. however, as the years go by, and the influence of the angels and the gods grows stronger on him, he realizes that all that stuff about a deal and debt was actually way more serious than he thought. especially after second arc, where he's carried out his goal of getting rid of salvador, and mortem sees this as a good place for him to end this attempt at humanity and tries to convince him such. by the time third arc rolls around, he's struggling to only choose one path, as living out a human life would mean actively turning against his god, and leaving to serve mortem would mean leaving behind everything and everyone he loves. there's a reason why there's two endings for this.

hawthorne chronicles! i've been thinking about the interactions between the former employees (stanley + isabel + osian), all of which we find through old logs. i think that they were all really good friends, and after osian disappeared, things between stanley and isabel started getting more fearful. after they had their encounters with their respective entities, and things started getting much worse on that front, there was eventually a fight that broke out between the two (now horrifically transformed into something else). the logs end here, but we discover the fate of these two later on after some digging (and some possible sightings on keith or rudy's part). also i think about miguel but that's because i think he's silly

rudley paradigm!! i probably think about this one the least, but i do love harper and harvey (the scientists in question). at the time of their work, they weren't really able to be as open and happy as they both wanted to be, but they were working towards a life where they could get this. unfortunately, it was around this time that the two found signs of an unknown virus, and decided to test out its limits. it's hard to start a new life with your partner when said partner agrees to become patient zero to a horrific mutating virus that turns people into weird bird things. harvey has to learn this the hard way after watching it happen, and shortly before falling victim to it himself.

[vincentcatagainsttheworld]

#Repost from Deborah Harkness FB page A DISCOVERY OF WITCHES REAL TIME READ, Chapter 40 “Hamish’s eyes drifted away, and mine followed. We both watched as Matthew’s white hands streaked through his hair before he disappeared into the barn. “‘Tiger, tiger, burning bright / In the forests of the night,’” Hamish said, quoting William Blake. “That poem has always reminded me of him.”.... “I did wonder if you would take him on, once you knew who he was–who he still is. It would seem you’re not afraid to have a tiger by the tail.” Wordlessly, I turned back to the counter and resumed my chopping. “Be careful.” Hamish rested his hand on my forearm, forcing me to look at him. “Matthew won’t be the same man where you’re going.” -A DISCOVERY OF WITCHES “The Tyger” is the companion to another poem, “The Lamb.”... Instead of a simplistic, binary juxtaposition of opposites (good versus evil, innocence versus experience), Blake contemplated the shared connections and coexistence among many seemingly contrary states and beings. He reminded his readers that the same immortal being had formed both of them: “Did he smile his work to see? / Did he who made the Lamb make thee? -THE WORLD OF ALL SOULS, pg 463 Deb has always said that when she started writing the books, she was struck by popular depictions of vampires and witches, and the popular assumption that it would be a delightful thing to be a vampire or to have one for a boyfriend. Obviously, she felt differently. Deb thought that dating a vampire (or a witch) would be much more challenging and complicated, and this “shadowed self” is a theme she returns to again and again throughout ADOW. Having read ADOW, which camp do you find yourself in? Still wishing for a vampire mate or not so much? Why or why not?? If you’ve read Blake’s “The Tyger” in TWOAS, did that help you think about the complexities of these creatures (and yourself!)? What else were you hoping to talk about after reading this chapter? Did you find anything else in TWOAS that you wanted to bring to the group? Cat #ADOWRTR2022 #ADOWRTR #adowrtrch40 #TheWorldofAllSouls https://www.instagram.com/p/CkWodqPo72D/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[evermorehqs]

CATCHING MY BREATH, STARING OUT AN OPEN WINDOW

Samantha Simpson is based on Sam from Totally Spies. She is a 26 year old human, lab technician, and uses she/her pronouns. She has no powers. Sam is portrayed by Kennedy McMann and she is open.

CATCHING MY DEATH, AND I COULDN’T BE SURE

Who said intellect couldn’t get you anywhere you wanted? No one, if they had any intellect to begin with. Sam Simpson was born a prodigy when it came to her intelligence levels, easily solving those childlike block toys that were made for toddlers before she was even a year old. It was no wonder the girl was quickly recruited into a secret agency, one that her family had ties to, but she earned her spot all on her own. As she grew, so did her proficiency in planning strategies, finding weak spots in enemies and her laser-like focus on any task given to her - she was a force to be reckoned with. She was the brains of every operation and knew that when she walked into a room, the odds that someone in there was smarter than her were extremely slim. Like less than point one percent slim. Thankfully though, she wasn’t the type of MENSA level genius to rub it in anyone’s face. She had her weaknesses, rare as they were, but she could admit it.

Unfortunately, even with a genius level intellect and analyzing every single possible outcome, Sam couldn’t see Evermore coming. She, Clover and Alex had been sent on a mission to investigate the town. There’d been stirrings that something strange was going on and in an effort to make sure it wasn’t some kind of threat on the country, they’d gone in with no hesitation. That was their mistake. No one expected the location itself to be a trap and as soon as they crossed into Evermore, their memories were gone. Sam knew her best friends but everything outside of that disappeared, all memories of who they were and what they were doing there didn’t exist. All she could hold onto was her love of learning, of figuring things out and being at the top of her game. Quickly, her attention turned to the University in town, the labs that were well-stocked and she threw her hat into the ring. Chemistry, biology, chemical engineering - all of it came easily to her and she loved ever second of it. Right now, Sam is content in Evermore but soon enough the pull to find a way out, to get her memory back, will overwhelm her and science experiments will turn into escape plans.

I HAD A FEELING SO PECULIAR

❀ Noura Brumble: Sam is no stranger to the mall, she goes with Clover and Alex all the time, so she’s noticed Noura a few times when they’re working. Sometimes they’ve even struck up a conversation when she’s waiting for her friends

❀ Deborah ‘Debbie’ Thornberry: Debbie reminds Sam of Clover in a lot of ways and her polar opposite in others. It feels like the woman couldn’t care less about what’s going on around her and Sam does not know how to do that

❀ Delbert Doppler: A man of science and experiments! Sam loves getting to spend lab time with Dr. Doppler and wishes she didn’t have to pack up and leave whenever they’re deep in the test tubes and beakers

THAT THIS PAIN WOULD BE FOR EVERMORE

[more-than-a-princess]

14. What published authors are your inspirations?

15. What unpublished authors are your inspirations? (Don’t have to name them, just describe them)

Writing Process Munday Asks - Accepting!

14. What published authors are your inspirations?

In no particular order: Julian Fellowes, Jane Austen, Kevin Kwan, Audrey Niffenegger, Sarah J. Maas, Scarlett St. Clair, Rebecca Yarros, Edith Wharton, Katharine McGee, Arthur Golden, Julia Quinn, Deborah Harkness, Diana Gabaldon, Casey McQuiston, Evelyn Waugh, Agatha Christie.

I need to read more of them but I'd expect Leigh Bardugo and Holly Black to be added to that list.

The answer to this question used to be Wizard Lady when I was a teenager and in my early twenties. The more I read into the antisemitism in her books + her being a TERF, the less she's an inspiration to me.

15. What unpublished authors are your inspirations? (Don’t have to name them, just describe them)

Pretty much anyone who can keep writing with some amount of consistency and are writing something they love to do. Avoiding burnout, imposter syndrome, and all other sorts of things that get in the way of consistently writing is a skill that has to be honed and refined as life decides to just derail you at every opportunity. I also don't read much fanfiction and/or webcomics anymore: just don't have the time. I'm too busy reading novels, watching TV/movies, and writing this blog!

That said, I have some friends and acquaintances coming out with their first books in 2024 and 2025! I'm thrilled to see the start of a new fantasy series, an LGBTQ romance/adventure set during the American Revolution, and another new fantasy series with a plus sized heroine. Also super excited for Don't Want You Like a Best Friend by Emma Alban, the first in her new queer Victorian romance series.

And while she's definitely not unpublished, expect me to disappear for a few days starting on January 30 to read House of Flame and Shadow (Crescent City 3) by Sarah J. Maas because that second book cliffhanger just fucking SENT me when I read it for the first time and I absolutely need to know what happens next. I have been theorizing for months now. Give me the next book, Sarah!

[rogers-stevens-5555]

[thenukacolachallenge]

OC Bio: Dee Davis

Full Name: Dawn Marie Davis

Alias: Dee

Age: 15-18(15 around the events of s1)

Place of Birth: Salt Lake City, Utah

Birthday: Feb 2

Faceclaim: Emily Rudd

Fandom(s): Stranger Things

Species/Race: Caucasian

Languages: English

Occupation: Student, arcade worker(briefly in between s2-s3), Chinese restaurant server(s3), currently unemployed(s4)

Orientation/Sexuality: cis and bi

Body Build: on the smaller side of average

Height: 5′1″

Weight: 115lbs

Skin Color: pale with freckles

Hair Style: s1-s2: long hair, usually in a low braid or high ponytail s3-onward: shag cut

Hair Color: ashy dark blonde/light mousy brown

Eye Color: green

Body Modifications: multiple ear piercings(after s1), nose piercing(between s2-s3), nipple piercings(after s1)

Preferred Clothing: mostly old oversized band tees, flannel, old jeans cuffed at the bottom with either converse or combat boots. as the series goes on, she begins to take inspiration from goth, punk, and metalhead fashion, such as leather jackets, battle vests, fishnets, tighter pants, and mini skirts.

Abilities: hand-to-hand combat(taught by her brother who has a blackbelt in karate), knife and gun experience, lockpicking.

Field of expertise: transcribing, breaking and entering, hiding and escaping

Affiliations: Hellfire Club, The Party(from s3 onward)

Biography:

Dee is the youngest child of the Davis family. Her father is active duty in the Army until the events of season 2, and her mother is an old hippie who is scatterbrained but very kind. She also has an older brother by the name of Daniel, who goes by the nickname of Danny. Because of Don Davis(her father’s) job, she and the rest of the family grew up moving to different places every few years throughout her childhood, including a brief stint overseas. Around 1983, the Davis parents get a divorce, with Don and Dee settling in Hawkins, Indiana for Don’s new job at Hawkins National Lab, and Deborah(her mother) and Danny settling nearby in Indianapolis, so that the kids can see each other whenever they want.

Dee doesn’t fit in around Hawkins, which she’s quite used to. Luckily, the town misfit, Eddie Munson, takes a liking to her after meeting her by chance in the woods before the start of the ‘83-’84 school year, and she becomes a fixture around the Hellfire Club, the D&D club at Hawkins High run by Munson, though she herself doesn’t play.

Dee is aware of some of the strange phenomena happening around Hawkins, but she doesn’t get the full story on it until later seasons. During the events of season 1, she’s in Bradley’s Big Buy when Eleven steals several boxes of Eggos, witnessing her breaking the door with her mind. She also notices all the strange disappearances around that time, noting that such things are uncommon in a small town like Hawkins, due to her own experiences in similar small towns.

After her father loses his job due to the events of season 2 shutting down Hawkins Lab, she’s forced to first take a job at the local arcade to help with money while her father finds stable work outside of the military. Later, before the events of season 3, she takes a better-paying job at Starcourt Mall, at the Imperial Panda Chinese restaurant in the food court.

In the summer of ‘85, she becomes involved in the strange occurrences around town when she joins the “Scoops Troop” - the group of Steve Harrington, Dustin Henderson, Robin Buckley, and Erica Sinclair, investigating the strange Russian transmission that Dustin’s “Cerebro” radio picked up. Her keen perception and knowledge of military goings-on from her father help the group navigate the underground Russian base, and she assists the Party in both escaping said base, and fighting the Mind Flayer. After the Mind Flayer is defeated, she begins to keep a new journal, where she writes about everyone’s experiences with the Upside Down, including interviews from those involved, as well as strengths and weaknesses of the different monsters they’ve dealt with. She brings it with her on future excursions, making sure to log as much information as she can, both to help their own chances of survival, but also to keep a record of what’s happened in case they fail.

The fall after the events of season 3, she and Munson become involved romantically, after a long and storied friendship. During the events of season 4, she helps both protect Eddie from the angry townspeople, as well as works with the Party to stop Vecna. Unfortunately, she is unable to prevent the death of her boyfriend, as well as the death/revival of Max Mayfield, a longtime friend of hers from her time as a worker at the arcade.

Personality:

Dee’s most noticeable personality trait is how quiet she is. She is well-known to most of Hawkins for not talking much, and always having her head in a book or notebook, reading and writing, and supposedly ignoring everything around her. However, while she is naturally a quiet and soft-spoken individual, a lot of this is a front. She has a personality quite similar to her older brother, Danny: both the Davis siblings love to drink, smoke, cuss, fight, cause problems, and party. However, While Danny is open about these things, Dee hides them, putting on a persona of “quiet girl who keeps her head down and does as she’s told”, to keep herself out of the trouble Danny tends to get himself into. As such, she has a reputation for being the “responsible” one of whatever group she tends to be in. She’s also the type who shows her favor toward others through gentle ribbing, being quite the wise cracker once she gets to know someone. However, she also has a strong temper, and extremely dislikes being threatened or made to feel less-than, and will likely respond to such things with violence, especially if there’s a crowd(”People don’t fuck with you if they think you’re crazy enough to break their nose at the slightest provocation.”) Overall, she’s a difficult person to get to know, but once she’s familiar with someone and likes them, she’s fairly loyal to them.

Tropes: 

'80s Hair: In between the events of season 2 and season 3, she trades her long hair in ponytails for a time period-accurate rocker shag cut, which she keeps for the rest of the series.

Badass Bookworm: Dee loves to read and is almost always seen with a book, but she’ll also fight anyone who crosses her or her loved ones without a second though.

Because You Were Nice to Me: She is often the most loyal to those who treat her with kindness, being willing to make their enemies hers if she likes them enough.

Beware the Quiet Ones: Most of Hawkins High knows her as “the girl who never talks, but who broke Carol Perkin’s nose in the cafeteria because Carol dumped a carton of chocolate milk on her”.

Big Brother Worship: Because her family moved around so much, and because of her own introversion, Danny was Dee’s only friend for a very long time(until the divorce and subsequent move to Hawkins). Danny and Dee do fight, like siblings do, but Dee is always in his corner with(almost) anything he does, usually being the one to bail him out of jail or any other unsavory situation he finds himself in. She also admires his dream to become an EMT, and will do anything to help him attain it. She looks up to and idolizes him, but she’s not the type to outwardly show it.

Cigarette of Anxiety: Dee is already a chain smoker, but the habit gets worse and the amount of cigarettes she smokes goes up the more stressed she is. Seasons 3 and 4 see her smoking like a chimney when she’s able.

Combat Pragmatist: Dee is not above fighting dirty to win any fights she’s in. She’ll bite, she’ll scratch, she’ll kick below the belt, she’ll run away and hide only to attack while her opponent’s back is turned. She has no qualms with any of it. The goal of any fight she’s in is to win, at any cost.

Cowardly Lion: She is understandably terrified of things relating to the Upside Down during the events of season 3 and 4, but though she complains and bellyaches about her fears, she never hesitates to be one of the first to rush to the aid or defense of anyone who needs it during these situations. This ends up going away entirely by the end of Season 4, with her becoming almost suicidally unhesitating to throwing herself in the line of danger to protect others.

Creepy Loner Girl: What most of Hawkins thinks she is. The Hellfire Club, the Party, and a few others know that’s only one facet to her.

Dad the Veteran: Dee’s father, Donald “Don” Davis, is active duty military until the shutdown of Hawkins National Laboratory. Because of the circumstances of the shutdown, he is offered a chance for honorable discharge, and he takes it, being tired of the constant moving and secrecy. Because of his military experience, Dee knows quite a bit of related information, which comes in handy during the events of the show.

Daddy's Girl: She’s not particularly close to either parent at the start of the series, but she clearly favors her father over her mother. Though her mother Deborah is kinder and more present for her children, and Don is more hands-off and less present overall, Dee chooses to live with her father after their divorce, specifically because he pays less attention, which she prefers(”hard to get caught when nobody’s around to look out for that behavior”). Over the course of the series, they do become closer, in their own way.

Did You Just Flip Off Cthulhu?: During the scene where the kids shoot fireworks at the Mind Flayer, Dee screams at the creature to “go fuck itself”. During the events of the story “The Search for Heather Cooper”, when the group comes across a Demogorgon in the wild, she uses a lighter and a can of hairspray as a makeshift flamethrower to take it down, and after its death, she coldly comments that she “hoped it hurt like a motherfucker.”

Do Not Call Me "Paul": Her first name is Dawn, but she does not like that name and will correct anyone using it almost immediately, nor will she respond to anyone using it. It’s a huge source of contention between her and her mother Deborah, who only calls her by her first name.

Establishing Character Moment: The first time her future boyfriend, Eddie Munson, meets her, she’s sitting atop a picnic table she “found” out in the woods(Eddie’s selling area specifically), writing in a journal and listening to something loud on her Walkman, while also smoking a bowl of weed from a custom hand-blown pipe she brought with her from her time living in California. Eddie’s almost immediately smitten.

Expository Hairstyle Change: Dee’s haircut during the time in between seasons 2 and 3 is meant to show a bit of personal growth, both in her coming into her own as a budding woman, as well as bringing her into the era proper. Beforehand, she has long hair that she simply braids or pulls into a ponytail to not have to worry about it, but the closer she gets to her friend(and crush at this point) Eddie, the more she wants to express herself in her own way, the way he does.

Everyone Can See It: Once Dee becomes part of the Party as of the end of season 3, multiple members of said Party begin trying to get her and Eddie to confess their feelings to each other. Steve and Robin, who found out through a conversation during the truth serum, both push Dee to be more open to him, and Dustin and Mike, who find out through simply watching the two react to each other, try to push Eddie to do the same, assuring him that he is in fact good enough for her.

The Face: For Danny, mostly. Being the “good Davis kid,” she tends to be the one bailing him out, and though most of Hawkins High is wary of her, most adults around town see her as a quiet but well-behaved young lady, looking out for her rebellious older brother. Officer Callahan is one of the only ones who sees through her ruse, but nobody else believes him.

Fictional Fan, Real Celebrity: She has multiple posters in her room of her favorite musicians that she thinks are handsome, including Robert Plant of Led Zeppelin, Dave Mustaine of Megadeth, Eddie Van Halen of Van Halen, and (to the teasing of Munson) Jon Bon Jovi.

Fire-Forged Friends: How she becomes friends with Steve, Robin, and the others from the Scoops Troop, and the Party in general. The time they spend together under Starcourt Mall makes them near-inseparable, confusing the hell out of Eddie, who thus far was Dee’s only friend.

First Friend: Eddie Munson becomes the first friend she ever makes outside of her own older brother.

Friendless Background: Before Eddie pulls her into the Hellfire Club, and before the events of season 3.

Hyper-Awareness: An important part of Dee’s personality is her keen perception. She tends to notice small details that are often overlooked by others, such as Hopper’s bracelet in season 1, and that though most of the Upside Down’s weaknesses are based around fire, they still don’t seem to like water that much either.

I Don't Want to Ruin Our Friendship: Her excuse for refusing to tell Eddie about her crush on him. (it does not, in fact, ruin their friendship.)

Insult of Endearment: The more she likes someone, the more likely she is to crack jokes at their expense. Eddie’s musical tastes are a common target, as is Steve and Danny’s thickheadedness, and some of Dustin’s more annoying quirks(she gets particularly annoyed at his tendency to call everything “(blank)-Gate” in season 4). The only exception to this rule is Officer Callahan, who she insults out of her dislike for cops, him especially.

Jade-Colored Glasses: Dee becomes extremely jaded after the events of season 4. Losing her boyfriend and one of her other closest friends causes a hardening of her heart that strongly influences how she behaves and interacts with others during both the events of “The Search for Heather Cooper” as well as the (upcoming) events of season 5.

Laughing Mad: Dee has a mental breakdown during season 3, specifically while Dustin and Suzie sing the Neverending Story theme while the car she’s riding in is being chased by the Mind Flayer, including both hysterical laughter and tears.

Last-Name Basis: Because of her experience growing up as a military brat, she tends to refer to people this way. As she gets closer to certain people, this can and often does change.

Mature Younger Sibling: Compared to Danny, who is known for being reckless and a troublemaker, Dee is seen as such. It’s partially a ruse, as Dee is just as much of a troublemaker as her brother - just better at not getting caught.

Military Brat: Dee spent most of her childhood moving from military base to military base because of her father’s enlistment.

Misunderstood Loner with a Heart of Gold: To most of Hawkins, Dee is a weirdo, an introvert, and prefers to be by herself. To those who know Dee, she’s loyal, emotional, and cares deeply for those who are in trouble.

My Beloved Smother: Dee loves her mother dearly, but finds her incredibly overbearing and refuses to live with her after her parents split. She and her mother have very conflicting personalities, and Deborah’s refusal to respect her name change and her interests in favor of trying to push her to be more “girly” has strained their relationship.

New Transfer Student: She starts attending Hawkins High at the beginning of the ‘83-’84 school year.

No-Holds-Barred Beatdown: She gives this to several people, including both Carol Perkins(who bullied her in the cafeteria at school), and Carol’s boyfriend Tommy H.(who attacked her outside school as payback for what she did to Carol)

No Social Skills: Before she gets comfortable with someone, she has this issue. She’s quite awkward, stuttering and refusing eye contact, speaking in as small sentences as she can get away with.

Odd Friendship: With several people, including Chief of Police Hopper, a local nurse at Hawkins PD by the name of Heather Cooper(a friend’s OC), and later on, Steve Harrington.

Parental Neglect/Obliviousness: Both of the Davis parents love their children very much, but neither are particularly great at being parents. Don Davis tends to throw himself entirely into his work, ignoring household duties and his family to focus on his job. Deborah is more involved with her children’s lives, but not by much; she is often too busy trying to sort her own life issues out to give either child too much attention, and she tends to try to mold them into the children she wants them to be, as opposed to letting them be themselves. As a result, Dee isn’t particularly close to either parent, which she honestly prefers anyways.

Pint-sized Powerhouse: Though she’s a very small young woman, she’s not only strong, she also knows how to use several other factors to her advantage in a scuffle.

Plausible Deniability: A running joke between her and her father is this phrase. Don cannot talk about his work with his children, as it’s usually classified to civilians, and Dee doesn’t tell him about what she gets up to when he’s not around. When Dee begins to get involved in the supernatural happenings around Hawkins, she has to invoke this to her father, to protect him.

The Power of Acting: Many of the adults around town, including most of Hawkins PD(with the exception of Officer Callahan, who Dee dislikes a lot), see Dee as a well-behaved and dutiful child because of this.

The Quiet One: Even after getting to know people, Dee tends to be one of the more silent ones in a conversation. She prefers to sit quietly and enjoy the company of her loved ones as opposed to being an active participant.

Rebellious Spirit: Dee is prone to this. She loves to smoke, drink, and cause problems, including vandalism and theft. She’s also great at hiding her penchant for these things.

The Reliable One: Dee is this to her own family. Even before her parents’ divorce, she was usually the one around the house handling most of the cooking, cleaning, and bailing Danny out of trouble. It doesn’t change when it’s just her and her father, either.

Shrinking Violet: Dee is quite shy and introverted, and will usually keep to herself in a crowd.

Siblings In Crime: Dee and Danny are this in spades. The main difference between the two, is Dee is better at avoiding the authorities than her older brother.

The Sneaky Guy: Dee uses her small stature to her advantage, being able to fit into small spaces and hiding easily. She’s also handy at lockpicking, and tends to be quite the eavesdropper. She’s modeled after what I know of the Rogue class in D&D(i dont know much admittedly lmao), so she fills those kinds of roles when necessary during plot stuff.

Spotting the Thread: Dee is naturally a very perceptive person, and usually one of the first to notice when something isn’t quite right.

Team Mom: She’s one of the first to leap into action when anyone in the party, especially the younger ones, are in trouble. She also tries to keep supplies on hand to help the others, such as a basic first-aid kit and emergency rations and water.

Tragic Keepsake: After Eddie’s death, she takes his bandana and rings as a keepsake. She also ends up with his battle vest, but she gifts it to Dustin in the end.

Violently Protective Girlfriend: Though it never ends up actually happening, she’s threatened to fight many of Eddie’s rivals and enemies for him, including Jason Carver. Eddie never allows her to, but it never stops her from offering.

Vitriolic Best Buds: The best way to know if someone friends with Dee is if she teases them mercilessly. She and Eddie are this even after becoming a couple.

[dr-spencer-reids-queen]

No Way Out II: The Evilution of Frank (Part One)

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~1.5k

Warnings: canon violence, canon language, canon talk of death, methods of kill

Author’s Note: I do not own anything from Criminal Minds. All credit goes to their respective owners. If there is any warnings that exceed the normal death/kills from the show, I will list them. If you’ve seen the show, then it’s the same level of angst unless otherwise stated

"I choose my friends for their good looks, my acquaintances for their good characters, and my enemies for their good intellects." - Oscar Wilde

"Looks like she isn't coming, so maybe we should just head home," Hannah tries to get out of this, but you're not budging from your spot at the airport.

Deborah and Charles, Hannah's aunt and uncle, is set to land any minute now, and you're not going to back down because she is running late.

"No, we're staying right here." Hannah groans and sits down on the bench as you wait for them to arrive. Ten minutes later, they does, and you quickly wave them over from the gate entrance. "I'm so glad you could make it. Thank you so much for coming." You hug both of them and bring them both over to Hannah who stands. "Hannah, this is Deborah and Charles, your aunt and uncle. Aunt and uncle, this is Hannah, Kimberly's adoptive daughter."

They are immediately smitten with her from the start, and you can sense that they are good people. Hannah must sense it too because she's not recoiling in their arms like you thought she would do.

"Can I talk to you for a second?" Deborah asks you.

"Of course. I'll be right back," you say to Hannah and go off to the side with the aunt.

"I just want to thank you for calling me about this. I didn't even know that Kim had a daughter. I always knew she was hiding something from us when she and her husband just up and left the state, and now I know why. I don't want you to worry, Hannah is in good hands," she smiles.

"I know you two will take better care of her than I ever could. Here is my contact information just in case you need to get ahold of me. Hannah doesn't want to leave, but I told her she can call me anytime she wants to if that's okay."

"That's more than okay. You gave me a piece of my sister back, and I can't ever thank you for that. I know you gave birth to her, but I can see my sister shining through her."

"She's a good kid. She'll do excellent things in life. I don't know if she'll tell you, but she isn't like normal girls. I'm what's known as an empathic psychic. I can see the dead and connect with their spirits as well as people's energies and auras. I know that sounds crazy, but I've had it all my life, and now Hannah has it. I've been teaching her about it, so my advice to you is to trust her instincts. She's going to go far in life."

"I appreciate it, and we'll talk to her about this." You're glad that she doesn't feel overwhelmed or creeped out by this. Like you said, Deborah and Charles are really good people, you can tell. "Okay, Hannah, we need to get going. Our next flight leaves soon."

Her, Charles, and Hannah all gather their things, but before Hannah can get too far with them, she comes running back to you. She runs into your arm and hugs you tightly, and you hug her right back.

"Hannah, listen to me, no matter what you see or what you feel, just know that they can't hurt you. It might be scary, but they're not real. You can always look away, understand?"

"I understand," she sniffles.

"You're going to do great; I just know it. You call me if you have any questions or if you just want to talk."

"Okay, I will. Thank you for taking care of me."

"You don't have to thank me."

She runs back to Deborah and Charles and walks with them back into the airport, and she turns around to wave at you. You wave back and watch as they disappear out of sight. You sigh and walk slowly back to your car. You get inside and start it, but you can't seem to move.

Who are you? Like, if you were to look back at yourself through someone else's eyes, who would you see? What kind of person do you think you are? You wish you had an answer to that, and if someone would have asked you that a year ago, you'd be able to tell them. Now... you're not so sure you can even begin to think about it. Having Hannah here unlocked a bunch of shit in your mind, and you're not sure which way is up anymore.

You almost lost Spencer, you got him addicted to drugs that he may or may not still be taking, you remembered the full extent of the trauma you went through more than three times, Hannah came back into your life, and now she's gone. For a split second, you thought about what your life would be like if you weren't at this job.

Do you have the guts to walk away from it all?

You put the car into drive, but before you can pull onto the road, you get a call to head straight to Gideon's place. A brutal murder took place there. Gideon isn't dead (as far as he knows), but someone is. You peel onto the road and head over to his place as fast as possible, meeting the team there.

There is blood everywhere, more so in the bedroom where Gideon's girlfriend, Sarah, is. Gideon is nowhere to be found, and the only energy you sense is Sarah's. Everyone knows you were out sending Hannah away, but you don't want their sympathy. You just want to see if you deserve to be on this team anymore. You're not sure where this is coming from, but you feel like what you do isn't enough anymore.

"Where is Gideon?" you ask.

"I called his cell. It's right there. It seems he left in a hurry," Hotch says.

"PD thinks he did this?"

"They have six witnesses who saw him running down the street, covered in blood, and wielding a gun."

"Okay, he was probably chasing the son of a bitch who did this."

"Either way, we're under strict orders not to get in the way of the investigation. Gideon's a suspect and we're his colleagues."

"It's a conflict of interest. There's no way they'll ask for our help," JJ sighs.

"Which he needs badly right now."

"Who spoke to him last?" Derek asks.

"I did about two hours ago."

"What did he say?" Spencer asks.

"He said he was late for a date."

"Do we even know who she is?" Emily asks about the woman in the bed.

"An old school friend. We're conflicted out of the investigation. We're just here to answer questions the MPD might have, so we need to assess what we can while we can."

"Evisceration of the torso and removal of various organs," Spencer says quietly, looking over the body quickly. "The guy is clearly a sexually sadistic psychopath."

"He's well-versed with a scalpel. He's done this before. We need to at least get photos."

"JJ, get as many as you can as quickly as you can with your cell phone. Get them to Garcia." JJ leaves to do just that and Hotch turns to you. "Can you see who might have done this?"

"There is nothing here. No energy, no spirit, and no emotion. The only person who has ever given off that vibe is Frank. Frank is back, and that means Jane is somewhere in this city. He did this to Gideon's girlfriend. He must think we have Jane if she escaped him."

"No sign of forced entry. Why?" Hotch asks the group.

"Because she let him in thinking it was Gideon," you answer. "Forensics won't find any defensive wounds because she didn't defend herself. She couldn't. He came here looking for Gideon and he found her. Now, he knew he didn't have a lot of time, but here she is. He's a sexually sadistic psychopath with the need to kill just as natural as his need to breathe."

"He moved swiftly with every stroke of his blade from lower torso to throat. She was awake the entire time, until mercifully she passed away. The toxicology report will find high levels of ketamine in her blood. He opened her up, removed her lower-right rib bone, which is missing," Emily says.

"Prentiss, left hand," Derek gestures.

Inside of her hand is her missing rib bone.

"Frank's back," Derek says.

"That's what I just said," you sigh.

"If this is who we think it is, he took the rib bones as gifts to give to Jane, yet this one he gave back to Sarah. Why?" Spencer asks.

"It's not for Sarah, it's for us. It's a message."

"We need to tell the police what we found," Emily hisses.

"Wait."

"For what?"

"If we know anything about Frank, he wouldn't have left a trace of his DNA in here. There are a number of ways this scene could be interpreted, and all of them could indicate Gideon."

"As long as Frank's out there, we can't afford to stop and explain any of it," Derek backs Hotch up.

"Last time he did all of this for Jane."

"Well, things seem to have changed dramatically."

"Maybe she's dead. They had a lovers' quarrel and he killed her?" Emily theorizes.

"If he came here looking for Gideon, maybe he found him."

"Let's go find out where Gideon went."

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[jennamacaroni]

cardigan

What’s tragic about life is that it always ends.

Time slips away and the world turns and nothing at all lasts forever.  There’s no slowing it down, no stopping it, and no avoiding what comes for everyone in the end.

Ava used to wonder a lot about purpose, before.  Big questions about what the point of it all was.  Of how small and meaningless a single life was amongst billions of others on this planet.  Of the impossibility of one person ever really mattering in the grand scheme of things.  Of what words like ‘meaningful’ or ‘legacy’ even meant.  If there was any goddamn point to any of it at all.

But after over twenty years of sharing a life with Deborah, now she has no doubt:  it’s about love.  It’s about passion and connection and moments shared.  It’s about creative partnership.  Of finding someone who loves you for exactly the person you are, in all the imperfections and messiness.  About being with the person you would cross the world with and for.

It’s about the intimacy in being truly known and the peace in being seen and loved by another.

People could never quite understand it, their relationship.  They judged it, even as the anniversaries slipped into each other and the years turned to decades.  They doubted that two people could fall so exquisitely into love across four generations.  Always trying to explain it away by alluding to Deborah’s money and fame or Ava’s youth and naivety.  Or Nina’s early favorite, that she had a silly crush or some version of hero worship that she’d grow out of.

Everyone thought because she was young, she didn’t know what the hell she was doing.

That she didn’t know anything at all.

But Ava knew Deborah.

She knew how she liked her eggs (soft scrambled) and her favorite coffee mug (the navy one with Barry and Cara’s photo).  She knew every expensive piece of clothing in that giant walk-in closet.  She knew every joke she’d ever told, watched every performance.  She knew that Deborah loved to drive fast on open freeways, the landscape barren and endless.  She knew the sounds she made in her sleep, the incoherent mumbling with an occasional slip of Ava’s name.  She knew exactly which patches of Deborah’s skin would tickle her, or turn her on.  She knew every single one of Deborah’s laughs and which jokes would tease out which specific ones.  She knew that Deborah loved to slow dance to Etta James and Ella Fitzgerald, but without shoes so she could feel the smoothness of the floor and step on Ava’s toes on purpose without hurting her.  She witnessed some of her greatest joys, knew her fears, and every single one of her regrets.

They had the kind of love story Ava never even believed was possible.

But it could never last forever.

“Hey D, Josefina said you were looking for me,” Ava greets as she enters Deborah’s office. Deborah’s behind her desk and studying her iPad, reading glasses perched on the end of her nose, lips pursed, and the slightest downturn of her brow.  She looks up at the sound of Ava’s voice and her expression changes instantly, the hardness disappearing and a gentle smile appearing at the sight of her lover approaching.

“Oh, and she wanted me to give you this,” Ava says, leaning across the desk to pass Deborah a tall glass of fresh green juice and kissing her quickly on the lips in greeting.  Ava falls into one of the seats across from Deborah and slouches horribly, splaying out in a way that Deborah would definitely call un-ladylike.

“So what’s up?  Are we working?  ‘Cause I was going through my dream journal and I think there’s some real potential in forest bathing.”

“It’s not about work,” Deborah says, setting both elbows on the desk and steepling her pointer fingers together under her chin in the way that Ava finds instantly distracting.

“Oh.  So it’s about fun, then?  Excellent.  Because I got IG targeted advertising the other day for a vibrator that has this clit sucking action that’s supposed to be the absolute shit and I think you’re going to nut over it.”

Deborah cocks a single perfect eyebrow.  “Nut?”

“Cum.”

Deborah fails to hide her smile with her hand.  “Can you be serious for once, please?”

“What are you talking about?” Ava moves to put both feet on the ground and squares up to her partner, elbows resting on her knees.  “I’m dead serious when it comes to orgasms, D.  You know this.”

“One day I’m going to die.”

Ava is so blindsided she just blinks dumbly across the short distance between them before the words fully register and she’s yelling, “oh my god, Deborah!  What the fuck!”

“You can’t avoid this conversation forever, you know.  I’m no spring chicken.”

Ava motions wildly with both hands in Deborah’s general direction.  “You’re in ridiculous shape!  You could crush my skull between your thighs like a melon!”

The joke doesn’t land and Deborah just continues to study her over the rim of her readers, ready to dig her heels in.

“No, no.  No way.  We’re not doing this.”

“Nothing lasts forever, Ava.  I know I don’t need to tell you that.”

It’s so gentle that Ava has to break eye contact as her eyes fill, the sting of her dead father still raw even after a year without him.  It’s a low blow, but as Deborah likes to tell her, sometimes only hard truths are capable of sledgehammering through Ava’s stubbornness.

“If you’re serious about this,” Deborah continues, “about us–”

“You know I am,” Ava says immediately, eyes flicking back to lock hazel with crystal blue, voice dropping low with resolution.  Her right hand is now pressing hard against the plane of her own chest, right against the sternum, as if she were trying to keep her heart from breaking clean through her chest.

“Then you need to know the plan:  who to call and where the important documents are kept.”

The room is losing air quickly and Ava’s vision narrows so sharply she has to close her eyes.

“D–” Ava is beginning to hyperventilate, chest muscles in spasm as she fails to draw in a breath, “I–”

Deborah catches onto the panic attack as Ava bends at the waist, forehead meeting her knees.  She nearly rolls an ankle rushing around the desk, silently cursing the pair of heels she put on this morning.  One hand finds the notches in Ava’s curved spine as she braces herself against Ava’s bent form and crouches down, knees finding the floor to level with her.

“Oh, Ava.  Breathe, honey, just breathe.  It’s okay.”  Deborah rubs circles into Ava’s upper back, leaning her forehead against the back of Ava’s head. “I’m okay.  I’m okay.”

But Ava most definitely isn’t and she passes out.

Thankfully, it goes better after that first conversation.

As time went on (and Deborah remained vigilant with that damn rowing machine) the panic slowly eased.  Eventually they could talk about it without a breakdown, but Ava’s house rule was only when absolutely necessary.  Otherwise she locked that reality away in a dark recessed part of her mind at all times.  She was a master compartmentalizer.  But mortality lingered like a ghost in the periphery of their life, the elephant in every room.  And for as long as they’d been together, it remained an impossibility that Ava could never truly face.

Life after Deborah was always deliberately kept abstract.  Until one day it was reality.

Deborah left the world on a Tuesday.

And unlike what she always pretended to believe, she didn’t leave it alone.  Ava was there by her side where she’d been for almost half her life, asleep just beside her in their bed.

Twenty-three years of laughter and the love story had finally reached its end.

Suddenly Ava was alone in a mansion she’d called home for two decades, without half of her heart and the person who made it a home, left only with the ache of missing Deborah that she knew would linger forever.

And if she stayed in that house, it would never lessen.

She was haunted there, after.

How could she not be?

Everything in that house was Deborah.  Her Rolls in the garage, her beloved soda machine, her art and her antiques.  The bouquets of fresh flowers in every room.  The eight types of water in the refrigerator.  The fish in the pond and the flannel hanging in the closet that she wore out on the dock.  The ridiculous cleaver she used to gut and clean her catch.  The stacks of tapes and scrapbooks lining shelves in the basement spanning the entirety of Deborah’s legendary career.  The banjo she’d play when she was feeling especially cheeky.

There was nowhere in that house that didn’t hurt to be in, after.  Especially when all Ava had left were the memories of Deborah in those spaces.  When she’d never have the real thing again.

She felt like she was living with a ghost.

And Deborah didn’t want it that way.

She didn’t want Ava to quit living, to stall out or sink too far into the past and lose sight of her present and her future.

“You better fucking do it again, you know,” Deborah says late one night right after an orgasm, her face and upper chest flushed deep red and marred half way up her neck by the singular and unmistakable curve of Ava’s teeth.  They’re naked and sweating between Deborah’s ridiculously high thread count sheets.  Deborah’s breath comes in heavy bursts and catches the flyaways from Ava’s mussed hair that frames her face, inches away on the pillow.  This is Ava’s favorite time to be with Deborah–when she’s narrowed her entire world down to a mind-numbing orgasm and she’s turned out and spent, immersed and indulging in her own pleasure.  Deborah once told her it was because until Ava, she’d never felt fulfilled from sex, never like this, never with anyone safe enough where Deborah can both lose herself and become her true self all in the same drawn out moments of ecstasy.

Ava’s distracted by the taste of Deborah’s cunt as she licks around her lips.

“Ava,” Deborah whispers, her fingertips skimming the bare skin stretched over the ridges of her lover’s ribs.

“Mm, do what?”

Deborah’s hand lifts to cup Ava’s cheek and force their eyes together, thumb smoothing across the freckles and bone.  She’s nearly caught her breath already, damn that woman and her stamina.

“Find another love.”

It takes a second to register as she only just climbed back up Deborah’s body, then all the joy vanishes from Ava’s face.  Tears blur the blue of Deborah’s irises into twin pools as Ava tries to hold her stare, her throat suddenly so tight.

“Deborah–”

“This is important.”  She leans a fraction closer to kiss the tip of Ava’s nose.  “Falls within the rule.”

The idea of Deborah being gone is one thing (The Thing she continues to avoid at all costs), but falling in love with someone else–well, Ava had never even considered the thought.  She shakes her head against the press of Deborah’s palm, tears dripping across Deborah’s fingers and darkening the fabric of the pillowcase.

Deborah’s eyes are wet too, but the tears unshed.

“I mean it.  I want you to be happy.  To live and be loved the way you deserve.  The way I love you.”

“Lady, who are you kidding?  You’re going to beat the Guinness world record for oldest MILF.  That or I’m having you cryogenically frozen.”

Deborah’s cackle is delicious, especially because she tried to fight it.  She swats at Ava’s collarbone.  “I’m serious.  This,” she motions in the meager space between their bodies, “is going to be over some day.  And as much as you want to, you can’t change the ending.”

She swallows against a suddenly constricted throat.  “I know that, D.”  She scoots closer, pressing their bare slick skin together and wrapping around Deborah as if she were trying to climb right into her body.  She breathes deep into Deborah’s neck.  “Why are you doing this right now?  You’re murdering my vibe.”

“This is more important than your vibe, honey.  Promise me.”  Deborah says it like an order but presses her lips to Ava’s crown, squeezing the girl wrapped in her arms once, twice, three times.  “I mean it,” she pulls back just enough to see Ava’s face and force eye contact.  “Promise.”

Ava sighs, knowing Deborah won’t budge on this.  “I promise to try. That's the best you're gonna get.”

“Okay, my love. Okay.”

So she’s trying.

It’s been five years now without her love and almost four since she’d left Las Vegas for good.  It was just too hard to be there without Deborah.  To keep living in the mansion like she was just away in the other room, just always slightly out of reach.

Now she’s full time in the Laurel Canyon house, tucked away in the wooded hills above West Hollywood.  Ava’s always loved it best because it’s a place that’s always felt much more theirs, her and Deborah’s together, compared to the mansion that was already well-lived in by the time Ava arrived.  This place they’d bought together, both knowing the second they stepped through the front door and into the entryway that it was the one, maybe even before that, in the winding ride up the driveway with their hands laced over the gearshift, Deborah’s thumb rubbing across Ava’s knuckles.  They’d chosen everything together, from the furniture to the color of the rooms, the wallpaper in the guest hall bathroom (palm fronds, a subtle nod to the Palmetto), to the native southern California plants landscaping the surrounding property.  Ava even had a say in the art scattered throughout the house, though Deborah was never too keen on entirely relinquishing that control.  She did still have standards and even after decades together, Ava’s taste was still mostly shit.

Leaving Las Vegas was the hardest decision she ever made, but it was also entirely a relief.

The further away she is from the place where Deborah built her legend, where there’s a boulevard and a theater bearing her name, Ava is able to breathe a little easier.

But as the five year anniversary of losing Deborah approaches, Ava finds herself on a plane descending over the Nevada desert, her former home stretched out endlessly in every direction beneath a blazing sky.  The mansion is somewhere to Ava’s left, hidden from her side of the jet, so her gaze strays to the Strip as the tall obnoxious line of it climbs out of the hazy skyline.

It hardly feels like two decades since she first took this flight for what Jimmy still calls his greatest Hail Mary of all time, the last-ditch heave to keep her career afloat with a job she thought she was too good for.  She was so young and stupid back then.  Brazen and reckless but fearless.  It’s why Deborah hired her that fateful day in her sitting room, that Ava didn’t back down, even from the very beginning.

Never in her wildest dreams did she ever imagine this city would come to be the place where she’d spend over half her life.  The place that would always be her home.  The place that would always hold her heart.

But she had to move on.

Plus Deborah ended up loving Marcus's idea to turn the estate into a museum, and with Ava and DJ’s agreement it was happening, set to open tomorrow.  Everything would be on display, from Deborah’s car collection to some of her most iconic outfits, her salt and pepper shakers, and countless other pieces of rare art and antiques.  For a woman who wanted to be remembered, the estate is the perfect place for all those who love her and all those who will come to love her in the future to fully immerse themselves in her legend.

Rather than stay with DJ or Kiki, Ava has Marcus book her a room at the Palmetto.  When she climbs out of the Lyft the hotel looms, blocking the blazing sun and casting an enormous shadow across the pavement.  It’s hot enough to fry an egg on the asphalt and as she instantly starts sweating, she actually misses this unbearable heat.  Her gaze flicks briefly to about where George’s room would be, but doesn’t linger long enough to be sure.  Fucking elder fraud.

And then she’s back inside the casino where it all began, assaulted by the ringing of slot machines, whooping from the nearby Craps tables, and the unmistakable smell of stale cigarette smoke lingering in the carpet.

It’s jarring how nostalgic she is for this place, even after all this time.  Especially when Deborah despised nearly everything about casinos, minus the blackjack and the showgirls.  But Ava feels like she’s stepped right back in time.  Back into herself at twenty-five when she could barely get Deborah to speak to her for longer than five minutes.

She requests an extra toothpaste at check in just because she can.

Marty is long dead, good fucking riddance, but Marcus still has the in with the current entertainment manager who escorts her through the employee tunnels and up through the underground entrance of the main theater that now bears Deborah’s name.  There’s a show in a few hours, some musical act Ava’s never heard of, but the theater’s empty now.  She pulls a stool from backstage to her old spot in the wing, stage right, and settles feet away from where Deborah used to perform.  The place where she set a residency record that to this day hasn’t been broken.  She slips her phone from the back pocket of her jeans and does the math:  2,500 shows in a 600-seat theater is 1.5 million people.

The number is so shocking, she types it in again just to be sure.  And that was only Deborah’s residency.  It didn’t count the comedy tours she’d done after, or the streaming specials, or the TV show they’d written together.

Up until this point of the trip she’d managed not to cry, but the thought of Deborah touching millions of lives in some way has her sobbing.  From how far away had they come from?  And how many of those people had seen the show multiple times, even if they’d heard every version of all the same jokes?  Ava presses her left hand against her chest, the simple gold wedding band still where it’s always been, feeling the past beating back at her palm.

She cries and falls back into memory.  The excited hum of the audience as the lights dimmed, the resounding roar as Deborah is introduced, the way she’d strut across the stage like she owned the place, like she was welcoming her crowd into her sacred space and she was about to rock their world.  Radiant in her signature sequins and styled blonde up-do.  Though Ava hasn’t stepped foot in this theater for decades, she can feel Deborah’s there on stage.  Closes her eyes and sees Deborah spotlit and glowing, her memory perfectly replaying that very first wink, thrown over her shoulder to where she knew Ava was watching, basking in the laughter of a landed joke. 

Ava loved watching Deborah perform, but her favorite memories are actually the ordinary ones.  Sharing breakfast on the terrace, Deborah’s face hidden by the newspaper, or laying out by the pool after Ava finally learned to swim and she’d finished her laps.  When they’re naked beneath the sheets and face-to-face, sharing the same pillow.  All the times they made each other laugh so hard they cried.

That’s what she misses most: all the simple and quiet moments.  Passing each other in the kitchen and brushing hands, fixing Deborah a martini after a long day of QVC filming and the look on her face after she’d taken the first sip.  Workshopping new material on the floor in front of the couch in Deborah’s study and eating takeout, or Deborah’s feet in her lap as they watched TV.

She’s long accepted it now, the Deborah-shaped vacancy in her life.  It’s just a part of who she is.  But being back in Las Vegas is bringing everything back, the dial turned all the way up, so she lets herself just sit in it.  In the feeling of missing and remembering her love.

She stays there in the wings for an hour, until the stage crew moves in for their final light and sound checks.

After a few hands of blackjack (all losses, no surprise there) and a quick outfit change (into a skimpy emerald cocktail dress that Deborah would definitely approve of), a black car arrives to take Ava from the Palmetto to the mansion.  There’s a cocktail party that evening, a mix of family, friends, and business to celebrate the grand opening.  It’s bittersweet as Ava thinks back to the countless parties they’d thrown there over the years.  Deborah certainly loved to entertain and she was ridiculously good at it.  But Ava can’t wrap her head around an event in this house without Deborah herself, dressed to the nines and perched elegantly in the entryway, welcoming every single guest with a kiss to the cheek and a witty one-liner.  

Ready or not, it was about to happen, the car reaching the end of the driveway.

She’s looking forward to seeing everyone together again, especially here in this house where they shared so many memories.  She misses her family:  DJ and Aidan, Marcus and Damian and Kiki.  Even Luna, who was a whole grown-ass adult now.  Kiki already texted they have an evil plan to get Ava stupidly drunk and are waiting with a glass of Dom with her name on it.  Deborah’s favorite.

As the car pulls up and Ava climbs out, she takes a deep breath, then steps inside.

[mollrat101]

I’ve talked before about how I wish we could’ve seen more about whether or not Deborah faced any backlash for the revelations in her new show, but that really speaks to a broader problem which is that I thought we would get a better sense of how parts of this world are feeling about Deborah’s new turn. 

A long-time comedian who is doing something new and refuting decades-old beliefs about her should be making more of a splash than the show depicts, especially considering our incredibly interconnected world now. Yeah, Deborah has Damien try to take people’s phones but I’m sorry that’s not going to stop people. It’s basically impossible not to have everyone have some sort of info about what public figures are doing. Along with everything else in that episode, one of the biggest things that was unrealistic in 2.04 was the idea that no one would’ve recorded Deborah’s epic meltdown and shared it on social media. That absolutely should’ve gotten her cancelled by parts of Twitter, especially amongst the LGBTQ community considering they are a significant part of her fanbase. 

Where are the people who disbelieve her? Where are the people who dislike this new turn and want her to stick to the old stuff (besides Axel)? Where are the people who aren’t impressed by this because (like Wilson) they haven’t forgotten the shitty things she’s said in the past and they’re now coming back to haunt her? Deborah used to be considered an insult comic and now she’s turning more confessional, how is that not considered a big deal? 

When there’s basically no reaction from the outside world or the other parts of the story to Deborah’s new show, it lessens the stakes. It makes us question why Deborah was so afraid of doing this for so long if her fears of being judged weren’t well founded. She was afraid of not being believed and the public rejecting her. But there’s basically not much evidence that’s super true. They touch on it, but they don’t make us emotionally feel how much Deborah is risking here. 

The world of Hacks has expanded and yet somehow it feels less vibrant than it did in season 1 because of the lack of demonstration this is a living, breathing place that responds to changes and has consequences. Hell, that went as far as including the main characters where the tension between them all but disappeared.

I wanted to get a more visceral sense that Deborah’s new show was making a splash in her world, and I just didn’t get that. For Deborah to have won this battle, the opposition needs to be fierce. That she was willing to go up against the critics, other people in the comedy world, some of her fanbase and even Marcus, her long-time fan and friend (who disapproved in season 1 but all of a sudden has no more doubts in season 2). I wanted the show to make it clear to me that Deborah was taking a risk, but that her artistic integrity was more important than how people perceived her which obviously shows growth for her. 

And that would’ve added a real feeling of risk that this story desperately needed. 

Where is the sense that things could fall apart? Where are the indications that Deborah might have to pull the plug? Where are the feelings that Ava and Deborah’s faltering personal relationship could actually jeopardize the show? After all, the show and their relationship are interconnected, so the email should’ve added tension that would’ve made it clear the show won’t work if they can’t get along. Where are the indications that Deborah is very tempted to go back to her old ways? Not just with her jokes, but back to her normal mode of operation in her life. I get that Deborah is frustrated, for sure, but not that she’s in dire straits. I don’t actually feel all that worried about her. 

In a great story, there needs to be a sense that things could legitimately get bad or actually do get bad before the victory. 

Without that sense of this new show being a hard-won fight and this truly being a project that only Ava and Deborah believed in for a long time, the victory rings a bit hollow for me. 

I’m happy Deborah succeeded because I love her as a character, not because the writers showed me a hard-won journey where I felt that failure was a big possibility. That Deborah had to challenge her image, her reputation, her personal relationships and even her sense of self to get what she wanted. Season 2 barely scratched the surface on this. 

I wanted it to be a very compelling Hero’s Journey...and it just wasn’t. 

[nakedmonkey]

14. things you said after you kissed me, Deborah/Ava?

"What the hell is in your mouth? Do you drink corn syrup right out of the container?"

"What--"

Ava pulls back, hands still on Deborah's waist, Deborah's lipstick on both their lips. Her brow furrows, taking a minute to try and detangle Deborah's statement into something that makes sense, and then she remembers and laughs.

"I had ONE cherry jolly rancher!"

Deborah's face is scrunched up like she's just tasted dish soap–in the soft glow of the streetlight they've parked the car under, the blue in Deborah's eyes is especially dreamy, and Ava can't help but let a laugh that is more of a sigh than anything.

"You're deflecting," Ava says, and now Deborah looks annoyed again, and Ava might be in love.

"I am not deflecting!" Deborah snaps, and steps out of Ava's hold, pulling the keys out of her coat pocket and unlocking the car before hopping in, leaving Ava to drop her hands at her sides, helpless.

"You're just gonna--" Ava tries, but Deborah's closed the door and started the engine. Clearly they're done here, so Ava rounds the car and hops into the passenger seat. She puts her seatbelt on and they drive in silence.

It's not until they're a mile or two out of the club parking lot that Ava speaks again.

"For the record, YOU kissed ME. Which I'll admit, it's a plot twist of early Shyamalan proportions, but uh, it happened. You're allowed one freak-out though so I'll just sit here and wait."

There's another pause, a loaded one, and then Deborah, her voice softer than Ava expects, asks, "I only get one?"

Ava looks over at her, admiring her profile in the moonlight, and smiles.

"You're Deborah Vance. I think you've earned the right to infinite amounts of whatever you want."

Deborah sighs. Not a happy sigh. One of those Ava sighs; the one Ava gets when she doesn't know who some Hollywood relic is. The sigh is just out of her mouth when she turns the steering wheel sharply, jerking the car and in effect, Ava.

"Deborah what the fuck!"

Deborah pulls the car over, shifts it to park and then looks over at Ava like she's about to tear her a new one.

"I almost peed myself!"

Deborah, of course, ignores her.

"Don't just...say shit like that!"

"What? Why not?"

"Because I'm starting to believe it."

There's no sound. Just the low, almost nonexistent rumble of the engine, and Deborah. Deborah, who's just had the first solid show in weeks, and whose only concern appears to be Ava at the moment.

Ava's smile is slow to appear, but when it does, she sees the worry in Deborah's eyes disappear some.

"You want to kiss me again, don't you."

Deborah rolls her eyes.

"I do not."

"Yes, you do. You want to kiss me."

"Fuck off."

Brushing Deborah's hand off the steering wheel, Ava unbuckles her seatbelt, leans over the console, and just goes for it. She kisses Deborah, really kisses her, with tongue and everything, she can just deal with the jolly rancher taste. Deborah places a hand on her cheek and kisses her back, and it's good. When Ava pulls back, Deborah's smiling, really smiling now. Ava remains close, just a for a second to bask in the warm, tingly post-kiss feeling, until Deborah speaks again.

"Seriously, how much sugar did you consume today."

And then she's pushing Ava back into her seat and Ava is laughing, and the warm, tingly feeling is still there. It's still there moments later, when they're back on the road and Deborah takes Ava's hand in her own. Ava has a feeling it'll be there a while.

[blackacre13]

hi i just wanted to say i love your fics!! i hope your well ! and could we maybe get teacher/student pt 17? :) <3

Part 35 is here; here’s part 36:

“I missed you, my sleeper. I want to watch you fall apart for me. Can you do that?”

“Fuck,” Lou cursed, nodding as she bit her lip. “Fuck, Debbie, I’m—“

“I love you,” Debbie whispered, catching the younger woman as she fell against her with a cry. “I love you so much. Do me a favor, my sleeper.”

“Anything,” Lou laughed, trying to catch her breath as she laid against Debbie’s chest for a moment before the brunette was rolling her over, pulling her legs apart before she settled between them, crawling up the younger woman’s stomach. “Let me guess. You want me to come like that again for you?”

“Yes,” Debbie smirked, her hand traveling down Lou’s belly until her head disappeared completely, her teeth biting into Lou’s thigh before her tongue swirled through Lou’s slit unexpectedly making her gasp. “And then I want you to say you’ll live with me.”

“No, no, no,” Debbie groaned. Her voice sounded off until Lou peeked up over the covers and realized that there was a paintbrush dangling between her lips like a cigarette.

“No, no, no?” Lou smirked, propping herself up with her elbow as she shimmied closer to the head of the bed. “Funny. Last night was yes, yes, yes. Or actually, yes, Fuck, god, yes, if I recall correctly.”

“Shut it, Miller,” Debbie grumbled incoherently, but the blonde caught the gist, laughing at the other woman as she watched her for a moment before gasping aloud.

“You’re painting.”

Debbie looked at her as if silently saying: Yeah. Isn’t that obvious? “Now stop moving,” she warned, taking the paint brush from between her lips to use, swapping another one out that she tucked behind her ear.

The brunette’s eyebrows were furrowed in concentration, tongue between her lips as she worked, her eyes flickering from the bed to the canvas and back again, and while Lou was mesmerized, she couldn’t help the realization that Debbie was also painting in a thong and had stolen Lou’s button down.

“This can’t be real,” Lou shook her head, sinking back against the pillow, almost tempted to pinch herself.

“God, you were a much better still life when you were unconscious,” Debbie sighed, putting down the pain brush as she picked up a mug.

Lou froze for a moment before she shot up in bed, neither of them missing the way the sheets fell from her body, her breasts exposed and nipples perky in the cool morning air. Debbie looked practically feral hiding from behind her mug.

“You’re painting me,” Lou finally breathed. A statement. Not a question. It was so surreal. How many weeks ago had it been that she found herself completely overwhelmed by the muse that was Deborah Ocean? Falling asleep in the studio. Debbie noticing the charcoal on her hands when she handed her coffee. Amita had said something about Debbie sculpting again. And Lou had talked to Debbie about the art she’d done in college and grad school and a bit after, but she had never pressed about anything recent. And she hadn’t dared ask if she was doing anything in the moment, and yet…

“Of course,” Debbie scoffed, her eyes looking at Lou, but not directly. She was studying the blonde. Examining her. Focused on the artistic aspect of it all. “You’re my muse.”

She said it as if she was telling Lou that grass was green. That the sky was blue. But she was saying so much in just those three words.

“Now stay still,” Debbie sighed, as Lou returned to the position she’d been sleeping in, keeping her eyes open and focused on the brunette, watching her work.

“What do I get if I’m good?” Lou smirked.

“When have you ever been good?” Debbie laughed, peering over the canvas.

“Fair enough,” Lou grinned, hugging the blanket tighter against herself because she was chilly, but on second thought, letting some of her creamy cleavage spill just over the edge of the sheets for Debbie’s advantage. Both for the art and otherwise. “Was last night real?”

She thought aloud suddenly, Debbie looking up again, brush still posed in the air above the canvas.

“Yes, you did come that many times, believe it or not,” Debbie spoke seriously, squinting her eye as she studied the blonde once more. “Maybe if you hold still and stop fidgeting, I can make that happen again.”

“No,” Lou blushed, shuddering at the memory. A warm, molten feeling seeping through her. Debbie had made her come apart so many times, her legs had shaken on her way to the bathroom before she slid into bed, delirious and dizzy and completely overwhelmed in the most delightful way as she passed out in Debbie’s arms. “The other thing,” she whispered meekly, almost embarrassed to ask. It seemed like something Debbie might have just offered in the moment. She wasn’t sure if it was real. It seemed too good to be real.

“Asking you to move in with me?” Debbie smiled, putting down the brush as she stood, Lou’s shirt sliding against her bare thighs as she moved towards the blonde, making Lou groan, reaching out to stroke her hair as Debbie sat on the edge of the bed, Lou peering around her, sneaking her head into Debbie’s lap as the brunette laughed. “Yes. Yes it was real, baby.”

“You want to live with me?”

“I want everything with you, Lou.”

Lou blushed at this, but found herself shaking her head in disbelief against Debbie’s lap.

“You’re really something, Debs. Aren’t you?”

“I’d ask you to marry me if I didn’t think it would send you running for the hills,” Debbie laughed, clapping her hands together before she looked down at Lou’s face, freezing as she realized what she’d said out loud. “Oh, Lou, I didn’t mean—fuck, I just meant—“

“Get on the bed,” Lou growled tugging at Debbie’s hand.

“Lou, baby. Please, let just.”

“Oh, Debs, don’t you remember what we talked about, honey?” Lou crooned, flipping Debbie onto her back as she crawled to straddle her, her bare heat sinking against Debbie’s thigh, slowly grinding against it as Debbie gasped. “The classroom is all yours. But honey, the bedroom?”

“It’s yours,” Debbie rolled her eyes, laughing, letting out a curse as she felt Lou’s fingers slip inside her panties, spreading the wetness that had been gathering between her folds as the blonde kept riding her thigh. “I’m yours.”

[apinchofm]

Hey, just wanted to ask if you could write follow-up to Phoebe's and Marcus's mating (right after their reunion) from book? Deborah wrote only part of it, and I would like to known how it continues. Of course if you don't mind.

I love this prompt! Thanks for this and continuing my we needed more Marcus and Phoebe agenda.

"I did not hurt you with the bite, did I?" Phoebe asked, gently touching the mark she left.

"Never," Marcus assured.

He was silent for a while, his fingers gently tapping her spine. Phoebe could feel ready again, having missed his touch for so long.

"I saw... a lot," Phoebe replied, "Not that I could make out much of it. I am not going anywhere. Like you said, I'm yours now."

"You are," Marcus surprised her by flipping them, making her laugh.

Phoebe giggled as Marcus continued to press kisses to her collarbone, down to her breasts.

"I did not realise I was amusing, Mrs de Clermont," Marcus teased, coming back to face her.

"Taylor-de Clermont," She corrected, lifting her chin in a defiant manner.

"Not Shephard?"

"When I want to mess with your father or Baldwin." She suspected that Miriam most likely had documents drawn up with her last name, as she did with Jason. She quite liked the thought of that.

"Have as many names as you want," Marcus said

"I love you whatever your name is. Marcus de Clermont, McNeil or Whitmore." Phoebe promised. He kissed her deeply, forever thankful for her.

"And I love you, Phoebe...." A kiss to her left breast, "Alice..." A kiss to the other.

"Najima...." A kiss to her navel and he had disappeared under the covers, "Catherine...Taylor."

"Marcus..." She gasped, sitting up when his tongue made contact with her most sensitive part.

"I told you, I needed to be reacquainted with your body." He excused, before delving in to lick and kiss at her.

Phoebe lay back and enjoyed his worship, praying that Ysabeau and Freyja made plans for the next evening - or even the next two days by the way they were going.