#and zero was. well she was shocked and appalled. as you see

[astralforests]

a crime has been committed....innocent orange cat making her way to cat tower CUT OFF by SCOUNDREL who has flagrantly stolen FAVORITE BED on top of cat tower. is anyone going to do anything about this heinous act

#ash heard zero get on the desk as she tends to do to get up on the tower #so ash leapt from my lap and raced up the tower in record time #and zero was. well she was shocked and appalled. as you see #i got this tower post-ash and she's always claimed the top #while zero has seemed perfectly content to have the platform below it #until 4-6 weeks ago when zero decided the top is great actually and she should have it #anyway. this feline drama is the most exciting thing happening in my life right now #astralpost #zero the cat #ash the cat

[bunnylovesani]

You Belong To Me

Summary: You find out about your husband Spencer’s affair with another woman. It's safe to say you don’t have the reaction either of them were expecting.

Content warnings: infidelity, voyeurism, facetime sex, humiliation, p in v sex, creampie

WC: 2.3k

“Who is she?” You shudder with disgust as you stare into the sunken eyes of your husband. He looked almost unrecognisable to you now that you’d learned of his betrayal. 

“Her name’s Maeve. She’s a geneticist who’s been helping me with those headaches.” He sighs resolutely, knowing there was no point attempting to hide this from you. He didn’t mean to let things escalate but you’d been going through a rough patch and Maeve was just so understanding- she embodied all the things you lacked.

“Did you fuck her?” Your voice trembled with anger, goosebumps piercing through your thin blouse as you braced yourself for his response. 

“No. It was a purely emotional affair.” He stated a little too coldly. 

“Ah. And I suppose that makes it alright, does it?” You scoffed, getting up from the sofa you were curled up on with Spencer mere minutes earlier before he came out with his crushing confession. 

“Of course not. There are no excuses.” He looked down, not daring to meet your appalled gaze. “I-I’m sorry. I don’t know what to say.” 

“Spencer Reid speechless? I never thought I’d see the day.” You chuckle darkly, fidgeting with your wedding band. You loved him with all your heart, the day you said your vows was the happiest of your life- now that he’d broken his, you weren’t sure how much any of it really meant. 

“Were you going to leave me for her?” Against your best efforts, your voice broke with a pitiful crack that left Spencer with a pained expression on his handsome face. 

“No! No, I promise. I would never leave you.” He interjected, leaving no room for doubt. “She was just a distraction. You’re it for me.”

You sunk back into the plushy couch with a defeated sigh, unwelcome tears pricking your glossy eyes. 

“I don’t know, Spence…” You sniffled, beginning to slide the ring off your finger. 

“Baby.” He took your hands into his own as he dropped to his knees before you, still in his work suit. “I messed up. I messed up in the worst way possible. I’m a fucking idiot. But if you forgive me, I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you. Please, my love. I’ll do anything.” 

An unfamiliar desperation tinged his voice that made your gut twist into an iron knot. He looked pathetic right now; kneeling on the floor with furrowed eyebrows as he pleaded to save his marriage. 

“I want you to call her.” You exhaled sharply after an excruciating moment of contemplation.

“You- what?” His forehead wrinkles deepened with shock. 

“You heard me. Call the bitch.” He gulped at your request and his eyes darted around frantically as he analysed every possible outcome.

“A video call. I want to see what the little homewrecker looks like.” You spat as he remained motionless, mouth agape and eyes narrowed. “Unless you’d rather get a divorce?” 

“I’ll do it.” He shook his head clumsily, rattled by the whole ordeal. 

“Wonderful. Come sit next to me and prop your phone up on the table.” You patted the spot besides you as Spencer stumbled over, still confused by your unpredictability. 

“Well? What are you waiting for? Start dialling.” You snapped snarkily as he scrolled through his phone with shaky hands. Locating her contact, his fingers hovered above the call button. 

“Dr. Donovan, huh?” You peered over. “The one you told me had been helping you with a case?” 

“Y-yeah.” He whispered ashamedly. 

“Now this I have to see.” You murmured bitterly as the line began to ring. 

“Spence, hi! Wasn’t expecting you to call at this time.” The bubbly voice of the other woman rang out through his speakers. Your eyes zeroed in on the pixelated image of a brunette woman with a choppy fringe. 

“Why, do you guys have a set time for your little calls? When I’m sleeping, perhaps?” You popped into the frame, grinning wildly. 

“Oh. H-hello. Spencer, what’s going on?” She looked to him for help but he just sat there resignedly, knowing he couldn't appease you both. 

“So you’re the one who’s been helping herself to my husband.” You chuckled disingenously. “I thought you’d be a lot prettier.” You neared the phone to get a better look. “Really, baby? Her?” 

Spencer looked away, not daring to say a word to his wife or his lover.

“And you? You don’t have anything to say?” You opened the floor to Maeve.

“I-I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Her cheeks reddened as she stuttered, her nauseating voice ricocheting off the walls and worming its way into your ears. 

“That’s okay. I don’t need you to talk. Just watch.” You hissed in such a searing way that it made her feel threatened and inclined to obey. 

Spencer looked up at you in confusion but his doubts were swiftly answered when you loosened his tie and ripped off his collared shirt with a murderous lust. 

“Baby, what-“

“You’re not going to say a word.” You smoothly replied, voice barely audible. 

You observed his sad eyes, entrenched with light crows feet that worsened with the weight of stress and regret. You weren’t sure how you were even going to begin to process his betrayal but right now, you had to take care of her first. What better way to drive home the point that he was yours than to show her? 

Unbuckling his heavy leather belt with an urgency you’d never felt, you glanced over to make sure Maeve was watching. Sure enough, the demure woman couldn’t peel her eyes away from the sight unfolding before her. 

As you pulled down his pleated black trousers, you unbuttoned your blouse and pulled down your skirt, throwing the articles of clothing behind you in a rushed hurl. Trailing your fingers down his boxers with your engagement ring flashing in front of the camera, you settled on his waistband. 

“Now, Spence. You’re going to fuck me in front of her.” 

His breath hitched as the unholy words left your smirking mouth. 

“And you-” You turned to face Maeve, who’s hand engulfed her mouth in panic. “You are going to watch it all.“

“No! You’re insane-“

“Or I’ll tell everyone at your work that you’re a home wrecking whore.” You dropped the threat like a hammer and it instantly silenced her.

“That’s what I thought.” 

A twisted grin consumed your face as you looked back at Spencer, who licked his lips at the sight before him- his wife eagerly spread open on the couch, waiting to be filled up. You weren’t sure whether it was an anxious tick or a sign of arousal and frankly, you didn’t care. 

“Show me how sorry you are.” You breathed heavily as you hooked your black lace panties and pulled them to the side.

Needing no further initiative, Spencer lowered his boxers and let his heavy cock spring free from its confines. Despite sex being the last thing on his mind, he couldn’t help the natural reaction his body had to you- it didn’t matter how many times he’d seen it in the last 5 years of your marriage, the sight of you split open for him was always enough to bring him crumbling to his knees. 

Shuffling closer, he let a long string of spit dribble down to your pussy before smearing it around with his painfully swollen tip. He was in a state of delirium and shock as his body moved as though it weren't his own- whatever the consequences, he knew he couldn't lose you.

“You see that, Maeve?” You cocked your head to the side. “That’s all mine.” 

You moaned shakily as he pushed himself in, coating his shaft in your wetness. 

“Isn’t that right, baby? Tell her.” You ordered your husband as he grabbed the back of your thigh, pushing against it to go even deeper. 

“That’s right.” He groaned as he plunged his cock in as deep as it could go, his skin flush against yours. 

“Who do you belong to?” You gazed up at him, running your fingers through his messy curls. 

“You, baby. I belong to you.” He whispers before turning to face the camera. “I belong to her. She owns me.” 

Maeve let out a short huff of disbelief, wanting to look away but struggling. 

“Harder.” You choked out a whisper as your body trembled under his touch, longing for more, aching to possess and to be possessed. 

His thrusts sped up in response, his hips smacking against yours fervently as you clawed at his back like a wounded animal. 

“I’m sorry, baby.” He whined as he took you by the face with both hands, forcing you to look clearly at him. “I’m so sorry.” 

“Keep going.” You whispered frantically- the feeling of being perfectly stuffed paired with your volatile emotional state left you teetering on the edge of collapse. 

“She means nothing to me.” He grunted between thrusts and you bore a wide toothy grin at the capriciously sweet words. Real or not, you knew they had to hurt her- and that brought you a sadistic amount of pleasure. 

“What were you thinking going for her?” You tutted as he pounded into you like it was the last time, creamy arousal glistening in the dimly lit lounge. “I’m so much better than her. She’s so ugly. Isn’t she, Spence?” 

“Y-yes.” He whimpered. “She’s nowhere near as beautiful as you.” 

Satisfied enough with his taunting, you pushed him back with a bitter hand against his chest and climbed onto his lap with increasing desperation. 

“Bet you wish you could ride him like this, don’t you?” You sneered as you stroked his wet cock with a couple squelchy pumps. “But you never will. This dick is all mine.” 

You lowered yourself onto him, adjusting to his size with breathy moans as he threw his head back in deluge. Bouncing on it with more force than usual, you looked back to observe Maeve’s horrified face glowing on the screen. 

“You got that, bitch?” You jeered mockingly as you reached for his phone and flipped the camera to show Spencer’s exasperated face. “My husband, my dick.” 

With your final act of aggression, you hung up the call and threw the phone behind you. You were fairly confident she wouldn’t be inserting herself into your marriage again any time soon. 

“What the hell-” Spencer’s croaky voice rang out in intervals as you continued riding him with stomach-churning speed. “was that?”

“I was reminding you who you’re married to.” You halted for a moment to catch your breath. “You seem to have forgotten.”

His firm, calloused hands snaked their way around your hips as he dug his fingernails into your flesh, bringing you closer to him. 

“I'll never make that mistake again.” He declared solemnly, brushing the pad of his thumb against your cheek. “Do you forgive me, my love?”

Your limbs went numb and you felt paralysed at the thought. How could you ever forgive such an abuse of trust? 

Spencer firmly grabbed you by the jaw before trailing his hand to the nape of your neck. You wanted to wriggle out of his grasp but he guided your head to rest over his shoulder as he settled his touch on the small of your back. 

“I don’t know…” You slumped into him, feeling immobilised as you murmured mindlessly. 

He suddenly grabbed your ass and roughly spread it apart to allow easier access to your core- he thrust up into your weeping pussy with a force that had you huffing out wordless squeaks. He set a ruthless tempo, hammering into you as your gushing arousal dripped down his thighs. 

“If I’m going to let that little stunt you just pulled slide-“ He growled with a renewed ferocity. “then you’re going to suck it up and forgive me too.” 

Whining, you smacked the side of his bicep in protest but the way he was fucking your brains out left you unable to speak. 

“I don’t wanna hear it baby.” He kissed your temple sloppily as he patted your hair, smoothing it down while he massaged your insides. “You’re meant for me and I’m meant for you. We’re perfectly fucked up for each other.”

“Mmph-“ You moaned into his shoulder, drool dribbling down his skin as you bit into it. 

“I’m never letting you go.” He sped up as his force and aggression grew, leaving bruises in the shape of fingertips littered along your hips and ass. 

With one final thrust, you came undone - squeezing his cock so tight in the process that he couldn’t help but fill you up to the brim with his cum. You panted as you tried to catch your breath, creamy wetness pouring out of you as he pulled your sweaty bodies apart. 

“Okay.” You sighed. “I forgive you.” 

Spencer abruptly sat up as the precious words spilled from your swollen lips. “You mean it?” He trembled hopefully, melting expression tugging at your heartstrings. 

“Only if you swear to me it’ll never happen again.” You wagged your finger at him as he leapt onto you unexpectedly.

“Never! Never, baby, I swear.” He planted grateful kisses up and down your body as you indulged in a reluctant smile. “It’s only you. You are the only one for me. Now and for the rest of my life.” 

You could tell by his adoring gaze that he meant every word. Wrapping your arms around him, you settled into a healing embrace. He was allowed to make one mistake, you loved him enough to let it slide. And if resentment ever crept up on you, you could always fondly recall that drunken night with Agent Morgan. Who said married couples weren’t allowed a few secrets?

#spencer reid #matthew gray gubler #criminal minds #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid criminal minds #spencer reid angst #criminal minds smut #matthew grey gubler #matthew gray gubler fanfic #spencer reid fan fiction

[esther-dot]

So I was reading a bunch of your anon asks about R/L (not spelling out names so this doesn't show up in searches lol) and I agree with that anon that said the fandom forgets that GRRM is not some woke author. Way too many metas are written on the premise that he wrote this series with the sensibilities of a 20-something millennial and not a 50 year old man who conceived most of these plot points in the 90s. The refusal for certain fans/theorists (not including you in this I find your analysis and critiques very good and thoughtful) to call out and critique Martin's deeply problematic elements frustrates me to no end. It's okay to say certain things did not age well and the R/L/E dynamic is chief among them. Giving R's wife a gratuitously sexually violent death and a gratuitously gruesome death to her baby and toddler did not age well. Then proceeding to shit on her by having her husband's family's loyalists state that she was sickly and not good enough for him did not age well. Then proceeding to spend five books with those same characters depicting R as the Westerosi Prom King/Football Quarterback/Prodigal Son with basically zero substantial or significant pushback did not age well. I keep on seeing people say, 'Well, no it's because it's all a part of George's Big Plan and Reveal and an example of the the POV trap so don't get preemptively mad at him.' The defense of him essentially being 'No, you guys don't get it...he's going to perfectly execute the story that only exists in mine and his head for 12 years and counting and then you will see how he always meant for R to be a POS and for R/L not to be some star crossed lovers romance.' Yeah, no. I'm not giving him credit for an unfinished story and the fact that some of his fans do this is baffling. We're at this point that even if Martin does reveal R was even a little morally grey, a subset of the fandom will continue defending him like their lives depend on it because they are so married to their headcanons because Martin has not provided any actual content in over a decade (the show whitewashing did not help either). I'm not even going to broach the subject of the white feminist pickmes in the fandom that do everything and anything to defend Lily White Lieanna from any accountability and pushback from her complicitness in what happened because that's a whole other can of worms. LOL. End of my rant I guess. lmao.

My aunt who is around the same age as Martin, wanted to watch Saturday Night Fever with me (I had never seen it). She remembered and loved the music, the dancing, the costumes, the pain of these characters who were trapped and looking for an escape. There were all these good things she wanted to share with me, but I was shocked by how casually they threw in a rape, and how cruel the protagonist was to the girl right after it happened. I could not understand how my liberal, well educated, very up with social norms, aunt wasn't as appalled as I was when she'd last seen it. But she had watched that movie when it came out, hadn't seen it since, so her reaction to it had been fixed in that moment. Like a time capsule.

That happened years ago, but anytime a discussion about R/L and what Martin would/wouldn't do comes up, I think about that, and I try to draw a line between my sensibilities and what he actually wrote because as you and my other anon point out, R/L was conceived in a certain moment, in a specific milieu, and it isn't the one we're currently in. So, while I certainly don't think Rhaegar is the guy that Targ fans believe him to be, I no longer believe Martin intends us to take the other extreme.

Rhaegar called the place where he took Lyanna "the tower of joy," and Martin would have to want us to think Rhaegar is a truly sadistic bastard if that's what he called the place he repeatedly, forcibly raped Lyanna. Considering what Martin has said about how he wants to write morally grey characters, how he has written Cersei, Tyrion, the Hound...I just don't buy that that's where he's going, not anymore.

More broadly, I’ve read a lot of literary analysis, I know how easy it is for people to write really, really interesting essays that I love, but in actually, have absolutely nothing to do with the book/poem etc that it’s discussing. It’s a beautiful thing that we each experience art uniquely, but it does mean we have to be careful when it comes to actually believing what we takeaway from something is the same as what they put in. There’s also a danger in thinking loving the art means we understand the artist’s mind. The same mind can produce something I love and something I hate. Experience that enough times and you realize, you can’t put parameters, a would/wouldn’t, on where they’ll take things.

And, even hardcore Martin fans acknowledge the racist issues with his writing, criticize how he sexualizes little girls...I don't think any of us need to defend him. We all know that these are issues with his writing, we may not agree that they will manifest in the worst way going forward, but it's possible. Unfortunately.

#anti rhaegar #grrm critical #fandom critical #anti lyanna #(just to be safe) #dot chat #< to filter #long post

[saintneena]

Thank you for the welcome :) I tried to keep away from more chaos because my only objective was to let people know Serenas has been only using Casey so they didn't follow the joint account. The more people give her attention and enable her, the worse it'll be and I was done with it. It's been like this since last year and I used to be a really loyal Casey fan but now I'm heartbroken and disappointed to see how this woman had reduced him to a joke. I'm sorry for the confusion, I forgot Casey's brother shares a name with Serena's. He called me a stalker and said he wasn't even surprised the video had zero likes. I'm shocked that they went for that video and not the others where I mentioned the supposed pregnancy. I think the whole family is antivaxxer because now that her other brother is in the hospital (I truly hope he recovers because I don't wish the pain of losing a sibling to anyone) a friend of his posted her link for donations and said he refused to take the vaccine too. I'm not surprised that is why the VA is not supporting them because for the little I know if they were kicked out, they lose the benefits.

i also am sorry about her brother. tumors are no joke, i just hope she's not trying to scam people through this unfortunate event bc it wouldn't be the first time... though i am absolutely appalled by the fact that from casey's story it kinda sounded like he ( and i guess his family since he mentioned them ) was basically expected to pay for everything. i'm also not surprised anymore that serena is apparently not well liked in the family, all the women in casey's fam are nurses or an adjacent profession 💀 imagine the awkward convos lol. but i get it i used to be s big fan too and related to him since we have the same condition, so it was nice to see how well adjusted he is and really gave me hope, as silly as it might sound. i guess i was a bad judge of character bc he's tangled in such a mess now :/

#casey tag #anti serenamfit #casey deidrick

[leviiattacks]

Lmao Levi being irritated because reader, his roomate, who he still hasn't confessed to yet, gets a cat.

The cat hates Levi but loves reader and reader loves the cat too and it's basically Levi vs the cat someone help

note :: very rushed and not proofread i only wrote for fun because once again i am bed ridden with sickness ha ha the perks of always being sick i suppose T__T

lord, does levi despise the way you act without thinking sometimes

he’s legitimately appalled at how you can manage to always do shit like this

even more appalled at how he lets you get away with it every time

now, what is the shit you have done this time?

brought a cat home a CAT

first things first, you are allergic to cats so he does not understand how that predicament will fix itself

secondly, cats shed EVERYWHERE

as much as he enjoys cleaning he is not going to clean that up every day

thirdly, cats will ruin furniture and claw at it

as well as the curtains!!!!

and levi loves the curtains in the living room because the both of you picked them out together

though it was a struggle to get you interested enough to pick a pair you liked.

maybe that’s why he’s looking at you irked by this all

you’re holding the kitten in your arms playing around with her

“peek... a... boo!”

playing fucking peek-a-boo with a cat? he questions himself in his head

“y/n. we are not keeping the cat.”

at this you innocently look up at him through your lashes

god, there you go again doing that

he doesn’t know if you’re aware of the impact you have on him when you do that

he’s good at holding his composure but that look ignites something in him

but he always has to push that something down his throat

“c’mon, you’d be the best roomie ever if you let me keep her!”

his eyes narrow at the word roomie

is that all he is to you?? a roomie???

you’re holding the cat up alongside your face and are fake pouting

“you. are. allergic. to. cats.” he punctuates every word clearly

“how do you know that?” you ask reasonably shocked he knows something that obscure and random about you

“you like talking about yourself when you’re drunk.”

a memory of him helping you throw up whilst he carefully holds your hair out of your face flashes past

if it were anyone else he wouldn’t have got anywhere near them if they were throwing up

but it was you,

it was always you.

“you rambled on and on and on about wanting a cat as a kid but not getting one because of your allergies.”

“so you would also know-” the cat tries to scratch your arm and you retract giggling

“that i really want a cat!”

“does that change your allergies? poof oh wow y/n you’re no longer allergic to shitty cats because you want one.”

you roll your eyes at his deadpan expression and pessimism

“if you knew anything about cats you would know this is a cornish rex” you now rebuttal

“a fucking what?”

“hypoallergenic cat breed! my allergies to cats are mild so it’s the perfect cat for me”

the crease between his eyebrow deepens.

“do you forget that we live in this apartment together?”

you scrunch your nose looking at your little buddy who has now settled in your lap “how could i forget that?”

he knows you see him as nothing more than a roommate

levi loves you he does but you don’t know that

but part of him thinks you do because you always give him that look when you want something

you’re doing it again.

the look.

“fuck. fine but if that thing coughs up a hair ball she’s out.”

“AAAHH THANK YOU I LOVE YOU LEVI!!!!” you’re ecstatic

his breath traps itself in his throat when he hears that

how can you carelessly say i love you??

you’re happily looking between him and the cat and hand her over to levi

“hold her you’re the dad”

“so you’re the...?” he asks

“i’m the...???” you’re clueless

he shakes his head waving it off

it takes you a moment to understand what he’s asking then your eyes widen

“ohhh the mum? yeah that would be me”

it’s so stupid, so stupid, so so so stupid he repeats it in his head the whole scenario is stupid

but it doesn't stop him from smiling like an idiot

in recent days you’ve given her the names diana, garfield and casper

sadly, none of then seem to stick because you’re too indecisive

it’s got to the point where you barge into levi’s room without asking

you’re in your pyjamas he looks at you confused as to why you’ve walked in with no permission at 2am

in a cucumber face mask...?

“name the cat please, name the cat i can’t stick to a name i’m going to rip my hair out“ you’re gripping at your hair groaning in frustration.

“edgar’

first suggestion, too ugly.

you shake your head

“candy“

second suggestion, no, just no.

you shake your head again in refusal

“zero?“

yeah, no.

another shake of the head

levi ponders and thinks hard “...angel?’

you blush, jump back and look more than startled

fumbling with your fingers awkwardly you edge closer towards the door

he just eyes you weirdly wondering what causes that reaction

well, you must like the name

“is it good enough?” he asks

you’re speechless not knowing what to actually say

“y/n...????”

you snap out of it

“isn’t that something you’d call a significant other not a cat?”

and for once in your life you actually seem kinda annoyed at him

“your cat is an angel in your eyes that’s the point” he’s explaining his point but you aren’t listening

you don’t know why levi saying that word makes your heart race

that’s why you’re annoyed right now

in fact it’s not that you’re annoyed. you’re scared that it triggers this response because this is levi.

levi, your roommate the same roommate who argues about pizza toppings with you. he’s nothing more than that.

but your cheeks continue to flush behind the cucumber face mask

“i’ll ask someone else what to name him just call him salad for now” without letting him get a word in you leave but somehow you forget the cat

salad turns to levi and gives him what can only be described as a menacing look.

“you happy you annoying shit? y/n’s annoyed because i can’t name you”

your cat jumps at him and tries to scratch at a piece of flesh but is held off easily

one cold look from levi and she stops.

“get out my room you pest.” he says as he places the cat on the floor

salad scurries away and levi rolls his eyes

he hates that cat he really does

a few hours pass levi is still up he’s always found it hard to sleep

it’s been a long day he’s just finished a thesis for his physics degree and stretches out contently

to say he’s tired is an understatement but his throat is dry and he needs to DESPERATELY hydrate

he gets to his feet and ventures into the kitchen to retrieve some water then he’ll knock out like a log and fall asleep.

the pitch of your snoring can be heard and he smiles to himself silently.

it’s all good, he’s sure you’re getting all the sleep you need.

“GRRRE”

there it is,

the little fucker, your cat is still up.

“what is it little shit?” levi asks leaned up against the surface of the counter.

salad is only staring at him blankly before turning to look over at the living room.

it’s dim the lights are switched off but levi feels something is feels off

“the hell did you do?” he asks

but salad shows no signs of breaking and revealing what it is she’s done

levi’s going to have to investigate

stepping towards the living room he flicks the lights open.

eyes survey the entire area everything looks good until he sees the way the drapes have been ripped apart

salad is picked up in one swoop she sees how levi is about to throw her out the front door and panics

meowing and struggling just in the nick of time she jumps before running away and slipping into the safety of your bedroom

groaning levi goes back to the living room to see if he’s missed anything.

well, god damn him.

scratches litter the leather furniture, it almost looks like a crossword.

salad has also conveniently taken a shit behind the sofa,

and to top it all off she’s left a dead mouse in the middle of the living room floor

levi. is. infuriated.

“you should thank her for catching the mouse”

you’re hurriedly eating some toast levi has made for you as you brush your hair out and gather it into a low ponytail

“look at the drapes y/n??” he’s exasperated and trying to make sense of your logic

“i didn’t like the drapes anyway we needed new ones.”

you aren’t taking this seriously at all and it’s getting on his nerves now

he runs a hand through his hair and glares at you “i told you taking the cat in was a bad idea”

your hair tie snaps and so do you

all the doubts from yesterday are eating you away. the question still lingers in your mind - how do you really feel about levi?

“do you have to have an opinion on everything i do? you’re my roommate not my boyfriend.”

it’s your fault for letting your anger and stress get the better of you. to be frank you have no clue why you’ve gone and said that.

if you’re honest with yourself you know he’s not a roommate. he’s not a friend either but at the same time he’s definitely not a boyfriend.

he’s more than a friend to you but you don’t think he sees you similarly.

oh how wrong you are

“roommate?”

levi’s question is filled with not an ounce of humour, the both of you know that.

oddly, he sounds displeased,

but you can’t take it back now.

and you hate backing down

“what?” you scoff

he shakes his head and makes his way to the front door not turning to look at you.

“get a grip on that cat otherwise i’m throwing it out”

SLAM!

you’ve done it, you’ve messed it up.

salad jumps up on the counter and licks your toast

maybe, he is right about the cat.

the rest of the week is incredibly busy you have an important economics presentation due today and you’ve done everything you need to prepare for it.

at least that’s what you think,

you’re stood in front of the class introducing yourself and everything seems to be going smoothly

price determination within the economic market might as well be advertised as a sleeping pill because you don’t know how you can get anyone interested enough to keep their eyes open.

but putting your best foot forward an attempt is still made.

“the buyers and sellers accept this price, and buy and sell accordin-”

you’re abruptly cut off by your professor who coughs and then proceeds to leer at you in disgust.

a few moments of silence pass and you can feel your heart hammer in your chest.

suddenly he points at the door,

he’s known for being harsh, strict and a stingy marker but it’s not as if you’ve shown up with nothing done...?

in fact this is the largest amount of effort you’ve put into your economics course since you’ve started it.

being in your usual seasonal slump has held you back but now you’re actually trying he’s saying it’s not good enough?

“your presentation. it’s awful. not enough effort put into it, leave for today.” his voice is rumbling and intimidating.

you’re stunned, you’ve worked tirelessly day and night to finish this off.

you’ve even had to cry over not knowing or understanding how to make pie charts.

interpreting data has never been your strong suit.

too embarrassed to ask for help you had to spend hours figuring out how to make it all work alongside your excel chart and spreadsheet

sighing heavily you speak up “professor i’ve spent a lot of time on this?”

“i looked through the slides. dog shit.” his response is fiery and you shudder at the boiling frustration he’s shooting right at you.

arguing in front of the lecture hall is not what you wish to do and you’re sure you aren’t going to be the only person sent out this way.

just retreat y/n 

you do.

the professor is clearly in a bad mood and taking it out on you, there’s nothing you can do about it.

wordlessly you gather your belongings and leave.

as you trudge back home the feeling of not being good enough sinks in your stomach like a heavy anchor at sea.

entering through the front door is a task and a half through your glossed over eyes but somehow you manage

you’ve kept salad in your room for most of the time after your argument and she seems to actually miss levi’s presence.

so when the first thing you see as soon as you enter is salad clawing at his bedroom door begging to be let in you aren’t surprised.

thankfully for you he’s yet to return from class and hasn’t been disturbed by the sounds.

at least that’s what you assume.

you look at salad and start sobbing

you wish you were a cat.

cats don’t get shit on for fucking up economics presentations that’s for sure.

shaking you try to hold yourself up against one of the walls

frankly, school stress is getting to you.

you tried hard on that presentation only for it to fail when it was worth a quarter of your grade.

A QUARTER...

TWENTY FIVE PERCENT...

salad nuzzles herself against your leg and you lean over to pick her up

she licks at your ear, it tickles and you laugh in between sobs

“you sure are good at comforting people huh?” you’re so worn out your laugh sounds half dead.

it’s all so pathetic. you standing in your living room wailing as you hold your pet cat like a baby.

but she doesn’t mind and let’s you cry to your hearts content.

“MEOW” salad loudly squeaks and you stroke her back but she only keeps at it “MEOWWWW.”

sensing that she’s bringing something to your attention you turn around

there stands levi awkwardly waving at you and you instinctually cover your face with your arm.

the smudged mascara is none of his business.

“wanna order pizza and talk about it?”

pursing your lips at the proposition you slowly lower your arm and scratch at the sleeve of your shirt.

"yeah, i’d love that.”

“KICKED YOU OUT THE LECTURE HALL?? YOU WORKED ON THAT FOR DAYS Y/N, DAYS??”

levi is beyond pissed he hasn’t even touched the second slice of his pizza after hearing how your presentation played out.

“it’s okay, it was probably going to go bad i can’t do anything right.”

levi’s silver eyes fog up in annoyance and you shut yourself up.

“you are the most able person i have met.”

head rocking up in surprise the confession is news to you.

“really?“

“you’re great at making pad thai, somehow you convinced me to keep that cat, i remember that other time you convinced a first year to bungee jump off a building for last years charity fundraiser.”

it truly is endearing how he doesn’t call you smart or witty or hard-working. none of that basic nonsense you’ve heard time and time again from everyone else.

the fact he’s naming the most random things makes your heart swell.

you burst into laughter remembering the first year’s quivering form and you wonder why levi even remembers that.

“if salad bothers you that much i could find a friend to look after her.”

levi looks at you like he’s just come face to face with a ghost.

“no? i like her, she might frustrate me and get in the way when i want to-” he stops himself fumbling over his sentence.

“when you want to?“ you’re leaning in closer intrigued what the rest of the sentence is.

shock flashes over his face but the next second it disappears.

taking a gulp of his water seemingly in preparation he looks you right in the eye.

“when i want to kiss you.”

and that’s all it takes for you to tug him by the shirt and slam his lips against yours, you giggle into the kiss as you situate yourself in his lap. hands ghosting over your hips he’s disoriented not sure where to place his palms but you don’t care. you’ve been waiting for this and despite his sloppy response the fact you’re finally doing what you’ve been fearing the most these past few weeks is only filling you with adrenaline.

“settle down.” he’s panting heavy and ragged. “i was meant to initiate it and look cool what the fuck??” he’s not mad, he’s just playing with you but that doesn’t stop you from getting into the role.

“and if i don’t settle?” you mischievously ask, levi’s hands are cupping your jaw he pushes your hair out of your face and simply gazes in awe.

he makes you feel so beautiful, it’s unreal.

“meow...” salad’s dissatisfied whining can be heard and then out of nowhere in one fluid motion she jumps onto levi’s chest.

“salad if you don’t mind i’m trying to make out with your dad.” you explain with a frown.

she doesn’t budge and instead a trickling sound can be heard, then a foul smell floats into the room and levi screams.

“Y/N THE LITTLE SHIT IS PEEING ON ME???”

#levi #levi ackerman #aot #snk #levi x reader #levi x y/n #attack on titan #levi fluff #leviiattacks #modern levi #college levi #levi scenario #levi headcanons #levi fanfiction #aot fanfiction #attack on titan levi #attack on titan x reader

[bxtchforstyles]

I’ll Get There.

Harry Styles X Y/N 

Y/N has been struggling with her body image ever since she was a teenager, but now that she was becoming a big time model, it had only gotten worse. 

Warnings: mentions of eating disorders, and symptoms similar to those of a panic attack. 

Word count: 2.4k+ 

gif not mine.

Y/N never realized that not everyone gets dizzy when they stand up too fast. 

She just figured that it was something that happened to everybody, especially since it had been happening to her for years. 

That’s why she was always confused when people asked what was wrong when she had to stop for a moment to gain her balance after standing up from where she was sitting. 

It was later though, when Y/N realized exactly why everyone thought she was sick when she stood. 

She had also been happily dating her boyfriend Harry for almost two years now, that’s when it got the worst. 

Growing up in the spotlight, Y/N never realized how much it took a toll on your self image. She never liked your body, or your face, or your hair, or anything really. 

And it didn’t help that her mother was a famous model for all of her teenage years, which was only ruined when she had Y/N accidentally at the age of twenty two. 

She was an amazing mother nonetheless, but Y/N had always carried this sense of guilt among her unborn self. She knew that her mother was easily one of the most sought after models of her generation, and almost everyone knew who she was. 

So when the tabloids got ahold of the fact she was pregnant, her career was basically over. 

Babies ruin your body. 

At around the age of sixteen, Y/N began to get into modeling, just like her mom, and just like the media had expected. 

 ‘She’s a natural’ 

‘She takes after her mother’ 

‘Let’s hope she doesn’t make the same mistake her mother made’ 

She had heard it all. 

But with the modeling industry, comes diets, and workouts, and healthy, green, disgusting smoothies. All of which were very bad for your mental state, by the way. 

The modeling world was a whole different work than the one Y/N had been surrounded by for the first fifteen years of her life, and now she was in this new world, she realized how much prettier everyone else around her was. 

It wasn’t bad at first, it was just a few skipped snacks, maybe a skipped meal here and there. 

It wasn’t anything serious, it was just a calorie deficit, which is what she thought she needed anyway. 

Everyone told her she looked wonderful, and that only encouraged her more. 

It slowly progressed until she was around eighteen, she was put in an overnight hospital stay once, but it was simply brushed aside, since she claimed her malnourishment was just due to stress.

She promised her mother that she would start consciously eating more again. 

She promised. 

But later that year was when she began dating Harry. It was wonderful, and she didn’t have any doubts that she was beautiful, and he made sure of that. 

But now two years later, the two of them were still going strong. 

Y/N had gotten the job of any model's dream, getting to premiere at the Victoria Secret Fashion Show. 

And it just so happened that her very own boyfriend was chosen to be the performer. 

Y/N was excited at first, finally getting the chance to be able to get on stage with her boyfriend. But that didn’t last very long when she went on twitter a little after the announcement had been posted. 

It was safe to say that most of Harry’s fans were not very pleased that she was going to be walking in the show. 

But there was one tweet that made her particularly sick to her stomach. 

It said; “It would be ten times cuter if it was Kendall walking that runway, Y/N could never compare to her” 

It had now been almost a week since she had read that tweet, and it had made her want to cry. She had definitely had her moments where she fell completely apart while in the shower, but she could never do that in front of Harry. 

She wouldn’t even know where to start. 

Y/N had always been the type of person to hide her emotions, and most of the time she did it very well, that was until the dam finally broke. 

That's when she decided to take a hot shower, thinking maybe it would relax her, and maybe even burn a few calories.  

Harry didn't even realize how long his girlfriend had been in the shower, until he went to run the dishwasher and it wouldn't start.

That meant that there was zero hot water. 

“Y/N?” He knocked on the bathroom door, hoping for a response, “are you okay?” 

He didn't get a response at all, not vocally at least. 

He heard the water turn off from inside the bathroom, figuring that his voice must have broken her out of a gaze of some sort. 

He knocked again, “baby? Are you okay? You've been in there a while.” 

His voice trailed off when he heard the door open slightly, promoting for him to open the ajar door fully. 

Harry was shocked at what he saw, closing the door behind them to give them some privacy, even though no one else lived in their apartment.

The sight of the small girl was definitely a confusing one to Harry, seeing that he had no clue what Y/n had been struggling with for the past years, but especially the past few years. 

She was curled in a ball, her arms wrapped around her legs, pulling them to her chest with her back against the wall. Sitting next to her was the digital scale that Harry frequently used to check his weight. 

He approached her slowly, not wanting to startle her or make her think he was mad at her in any way. 

When he got close enough to read the number that was being shown on the scale, he was appalled. He had to hold back his gasp as he crouched in front of her in order for his eyes to be level with hers. 

“Hey,” He placed a hand on top of her knee, trying to grab her attention. “What’s the matter, love?” He was genuinely concerned for her now that he saw the fat tears rolling down her cheeks. 

The only thing that his girlfriend did though, was look back down at her hands once they dropped to her lap, the tears continued flowing. 

“You know you can tell me anything baby, I’m right here.” 

“I-” The sniffles and hiccups that still leave her small body were absolutely heartbreaking to Harry. “I just, I hate m-myself.” 

Harry didn’t even want to imagine what his facial expression looked like in that moment, because hearing his girl say that, absolutely broke him. 

“Y/N,” He finally spoke shakily, rubbing his hands up and down her thighs as her legs straightened. “W-why?” 

He never would have imagined that she was feeling like this, and that made him feel awful knowing that he maybe could have helped her sooner. She had been hurting for god knows how long and he had no idea. 

“I know that you say that you think I’m pretty, and beautiful-” She cuts herself off when another sob racks her body. “But sometimes I think you just tell me that so you don’t hurt my feelings.” 

It had taken her a while to regain her breathing at times, and Harry could see why. Her body was clearly fragile, and was working way harder than it should have to just to keep her lungs pumping. 

He walked into their bedroom that was connected to the bathroom, quickly grabbing the Gatorade that he had set on the dresser a few moments ago when he had begun knocking on the door. 

“Here, take a drink baby.” He tried to put the plastic bottle in her hand, but she wouldn’t even hold it before she was immediately pushing it away. “Y/N, you need to drink something.” 

Her tears only got stronger, her breath becoming more erratic as she shook her head no. 

Her skin was pale, and the bones of shoulder protruded from her body. She looked sick, but Harry didn’t want to admit that, even to himself. 

“I can’t, Harry, I can’t.” The breath that she exhaled was ragged, prompting him to put the hand that wasn’t holding the Gatorade bottle on her back, running it up and down. 

“Yes, you can baby. I promise, I will be here the entire time.” He nodded encouragingly, but she didn’t say a word. “Can you please just take one sip? If not you for, for me.” 

The daunting look that she gave the plastic bottle was enough to make her start hyperventilating. “You don’t get it.” 

“I know I don't,” He sighed loudly, “but I want to.” 

“Why me?” Her voice was barely audible, making so Harry didn’t even hear what she said at first. 

“What?” His large, ring-clad hand was still rubbing up and down her back in an attempt to make her breathe even out. 

Y/N took a deep breath, like she was trying to figure out what to say. “Why do you want me? You could have literally any girl you want, yet you’re still here, and I just don’t get it.” 

It probably seemed horrible when Harry stayed silent for a moment, staring blankly at her. But in all reality, he was just trying to come up with an answer that would be suitable enough to make her understand exactly how he felt about her. 

“I just- I can’t help you understand how I’m feeling, and what I’m going through until I understand. I-i really need to understand.” 

“You know that I love you so much, darling.” 

That’s when the dam finally broke, the tears starting again, and Y/N’s hands angrily slamming down on the bathroom floor. “But why? Help me understand!” She bellowed, making Harry’s eyes widen. 

“Understand what, love?” His voice was calm, and Y/N wasn;t surprised by it. He had never raised his voice at her in the slightest, and she didn’t think he was going to start. 

“Why you chose me! You have a million girls literally at your feet that are so much prettier, and skinnier, and nicer-” Harry cut her off. 

He knew exactly what she was doing. Her anxiousness always caused rambling like this where she would spill all of her feelings, and it made his heart ache that she could ever feel like this. 

“I don’t want anyone else.” He said simply, grabbing her hands. “I love you because you light up any room that you walk into. I love the way you play with your hair when you’re being impatient. I love the way you immediately run to me when I walk in the front door. I love when you attempt to cook, even though you are horrendous at it, but I know you try for me.” 

“I love every single thing about you, to the point that I don’t think I could ever look at anyone else with even remotely the same amount of admiration as I have when I look at you. You make me who I am, and no one else could ever fill my heart to the extent that you do.” 

Y/N looked up at him, watching the single tear roll down his cheek. The only thing she could think to do was lean her head forward from where she was sitting in front of him, laying her head on his chest. 

“Everybody’s mad that I’m going to be walking at the show while you’re performing. They all wanted you to be performing with Kendall.” 

Harry’s hands went under her slim arms, picking her up with ease before placing her in his lap. “I don’t want to perform for anyone unless you’re walking that runway.” 

“I love you.” 

He kissed the top of her head, “I love you too.” 

Y/N laid in his lap for a few more minutes before he stood up, wrapping his arms easily around the back of her thighs, pulling her legs to wrap around his torso. 

“Why don't we eat something, make you feel better?” At this time, Harry had completely forgotten about the image of his girlfriend crying in front of the scale. 

She shook her head as he laid her down against the comforter in their bed, “m’ not hungry.”

He knew better than that, “you haven't eaten all day, what's going on?” 

“I’m preparing for the show, Harry.” 

That’s when he definitely knew something was off, she never called him by his first name. He also saw the look on her face when he mentioned food, she looked sad, not only sad, but disgusted. 

“Did you see the same number on the scale that I did?” He didn’t want to bring it up at first, but now he felt it was necessary to lightly mention it. “If anything, you’re underweight, Y/N.” 

“The number on the scale means absolutely nothing when I still look like- like this.” She motioned down towards her body, making Harry frown. 

He wrapped his fingers around her wrist, his thumb and pointer finger connecting immediately, basically overlapping them. “That is not healthy, baby. You need to eat in order to fuel your body, or else you will be so weak that you won’t even be able to make it down the runway.” 

“I can’t be fat for this show Harry, I just can’t. There is too much speculation about me already, and I can’t be known as the fat Victoria Secret model, on top of being the girl who’s dating Harry Styles.” 

“But you’re not fat, and I know that it’s hard for you to see since you’ve had to struggle with these types of things in the modeling industry for so long, but you need to eat.” She was already shaking her head, making Harry’s eyes well with tears. 

“Please, Y/N, for me. I’m not asking for you to sit down and have a full course meal, maybe just something small, healthy even. How about a little side salad, would that be okay? You don’t even have to eat the whole thing.” 

Finally, he got his girlfriend to agree, slowly nodding her head. 

He kneeled onto the bed, wrapping his arms firmly around her. “You’re so beautiful, baby. I love you so much, thank you.” 

“I love you too. A lot.” 

Harry grabbed Y/N’s cheeks in his hands, feeling her strong cheekbones against his palms. “I just want you to be healthy, you know that, right?” 

She smiled lightly, leaning her head into his hand, “I’ll get there.”

“I know you will.” 

i hope you like my very first imagine that i have posted on this account! should i do a part two of the fashion show? lmk!!

#harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x ofc #harry styles blog #harry styles blurb #harry styles x reader #harry styles imagine #solo harry #harry styles #harry styles one shot #one direction #1d fan fiction #1d au #1d imagines #fanfic #tw ed things

[talesofphantombandits]

Zero to Six ~ I’ll Fight to be Apart of this Family - Edited Version. Part 5.

Characters: Four X Zero (OC)

Summary: Zero was the first person to be ‘saved’ by One, she was his first honorary Ghost. Her knowledge in tech meant she got the role of ‘Hacker’ she recruited new team members, looked for missions and locations and made sure every security measure was looked at. You know normal hacker spy stuff. But her tough up bringing meant that if needs be she could fight, she was maybe even better than some people on the team knew. But due to One’s protectiveness over her she had to stay hidden, she was more of an actual ghost than the rest of the team was. This didn’t mean she couldn’t have her fun though, over the months of being with the full team she had formed quite a passionate love/ hate relationship with the handsome Four. Who knows what sparks would fly if they were ever to meet. Warnings: Slight swearing, some suggestive flirting in later chapters.

Tagg list: (I know this is a edit of my original story but if anyone wants to be tagged let me know.) @raylan-c​, @angelic-demonss 

“Are we just not going to discuss the stranger in the room? why is the bartender here?” Four smirked at Zero. She in turn just raised her eyebrow at the blonde haired beauty, daring him to continue. “And why is Five giving her first aid?” 

The room went silent, everyone was looking at Zero like she was the enemy, and in a way she was. This group of people were the closest thing she had to family and yet she was an impostor, an outsider who’s voice was the only thing the team had ever heard that’s the only thing they knew her by. She hoped One would forgive her for what she was about to do.

Zero coughed away any last nervous about coming clean. "You know for what you guys do, you are all so dumb sometimes."

Zero in return heard a hiss, her head snapped to the direction it came from. She was faced with One, his face and neck had gone completely red with how angry he was.  A look that told Zero to shut her gob if she knew what was good for her. 

"What?!" Was she really that surprised? It was One after all, did she really think he’d just let her spill the beans right here, right now when he’d kept her away for so many years. 

"She, she just stumbled in here after the bar fight, and the doctor couldn't resist helping her." Zero looked from One appalled, to Five who was just as taken a back as Zero was. Her eyebrows furrowed as she gave a concerning look between the both of them. 

Zero couldn't help but clock onto the suspicious glare that Two was giving her. She definitely knew the truth, she was an incredibly smart woman and Zero wouldn’t be shocked if she didn’t know the moment she walked into the room. She looked back to One who she could tell was getting more and more worried over the glances everyone in the room was giving Zero.

"Your name was Lilly right?" One asked marching up to Zero and grabbing her hand, but Zero shrugged it off "Come on I'll take you home."

Everyone was looking at One like he'd lost his mind, the team was supposed to be a secret so why would he offer to take a stranger home? The air was so thick in the kitchen that even a knife wouldn’t cut it.  To make matters worse Four was starring Zero down with such ferocity she thought those ocean blue eyes she’d only seen in photo’s would melt her to the ground. She just raised her eyebrows at the man again, more threatening this time. Zero was brought back by the tug on her arm, she hissed back at One but jumped down off the counter anyway. As she slowly made her way pasted Five she quietly thanked her for being there to help her as best she could for the night. 

“Who is she One?” Three pressed on, One looked like he would explode any moment, the man who never seemed to make such stupid mistakes had nearly revealed one of his biggest secrets. “No one, she’s no one. Just a normal bartender.” Zero stopped abruptly which also dragged One to a stop as his hand was still around her arm.  When he whipped around she took the opportunity to strike the man straight across his dumb face. 

One looked at her shocked, she herself was in shock at what she had just done. Had she actually just assaulted him? The man that had saved her life all those years ago, gave her food and shelter, she owed him everything and she had just straight up assaulted him. She looked at her hand that now slightly stung in shock, as did everyone else in the room.  One’s shock only lasted a couple of seconds before his face turned stony cold and once again he latched onto Zero’s arm and headed towards the door. 

After everything that just happened Zero couldn’t help but still be memorised as she approached Four, he was breath taking, a beautiful sight to look at. It was almost like looking into the blinding sun that eventually you had to tear your sight away from, in case of damage to the eyes.

She felt a wave of sadness overcome her suddenly, she had been so close to Four actually knowing who she was, she’d been close to the whole team knowing it was her. God even one normal conversation with him probably wouldn't have satisfied her enough but it would have been a start at least. Yet One just had to take even that away from her, while she was grateful for everything One had done for her, he was still in turn hurting her.  What she really needed was a real family and she had found that in these guys but One was always in the way.  If her only way was to fight to be apart of this family, then so be it.

"Hurry up" One snapped out angrily, there was definitely going to be consequences for hitting him and she knew it. But she was done being alone.

Zero looked back at Five who was still in shock and what looked like awe, she seemed to blink back to a little normality when she caught Zeros eye again. She gave Zero a ‘You’ll be okay’ look and a little nod, Zero was happy to know that she at least had Five to rant to afterwards when everything with One had settled. 

As Zero got closer and closer to the little blonde shit leaning on the door frame she swore she could see him smirking at her, she had to also fight the urge to slap him into next week as well, he’d just seen it first hand so he should be scared. But as she crossed the thresh hold of the hotel kitchen his hand that was hanging by his side brushed against hers and it felt like lightning shooting up her arm, across her shoulder and up the side of her neck.  She tried not to show the shiver it sent down her spine but the urge was taking over her. She met his eyes again and to her surprise she saw the same reaction but he quickly hid it.  A sudden desired to leave struck her so she decided to just keep walking after One, who had steamed ahead of her.

Once outside she felt like the mist in her mind had cleared a little, but as soon as she saw One angrily waiting beside his car she suddenly felt all the anger rush back. "What the actual fuck One?!" She screamed marching her way to the passenger door.

He opened up his side of the car. "Shut up and get in the car." He said calmly which scared her more than if he had shouted it at her, he got in the drivers seat but slammed the door shut which made her jump in turn. Zero just huffed, not wanting to get in more trouble than she was already in.

"Where are you taking me?" She sighed defeated.

"Home." He said shortly.

"Why?, why did you do that?"

"Do what? A better question is why did you hit me?!" He didn't look at her but she could tell with every word he spoke he was getting more angry.

"Okay in my defence, you were being a dick! you make me think I was finally becoming apart of the team, which then you revealed was just a ‘mistake’ I think you’d also feel like punching someone if you thought you were finally getting the family you deserved just to have them ripped away from you in the same moment!" I tried so hard to not to scream my lungs out at him but the more I spoke the harder it got.

"You knew that they weren't suppose to meet you! Why are you suddenly surprised. I told you when we first made the team that this was how it was going to be and you agreed!" One spat back.

"I did agree! but I was still in a bad place at that time and I wasn’t looking for friends let alone a whole family, I didn’t know that I was actually going to find a sense of security in these group of strangers did I!” The tears started to stream down Zeros face, she could taste the saltiness of her tears with every drop. “I want to go back! I want to complete the rest of the mission, I’ve come this far there is no way I’m bailing out now, just to go sit in that apartment manning the coms by myself for the rest of eternity." 

"No." He deadpanned, which made Zero even more angry. Had he not listened to anything she had just said to him? Did he not see just how much this mattered to her.

"One I’m not afraid to knock you out and drive there myself, I think I just proved that back in the kitchen." He just raised his eyebrows at her, like it was a challenge. "Come on One! why are you doing this to me? Why are you keeping me hidden? What do you gain from it."

"Because your job is best done in a flat somewhere, anywhere. Where no one can trace you."

"Bullshit!" Zero screamed which made One forcefully pulled the car over to the side of the road, the suddenness of the stop made her surge forward a little but luckily her seat belt prevented her from travelling any further forward.

"Please just tell me the truth." She said quietly, by this point she was drained physically and emotionally. "Why do you keep me away? and I don't want any of your bullshit. You and I both know I can do my work in any environment."

"I just want to keep you safe." One kept his focus straight ahead, staring out of the windscreen into the darkness.

"What do you mean? Since when have you ever cared about anyone's safety on this team?" I asked confused.

One had few rules, but one of the main rules that One lived by was if anyone gets stuck on a mission they are to be left behind. The team can never be exposed, so if one of them gets left behind because of capture or injury then it's just the price the team has to unfortunately pay.

"You were the first person I found." He slowly turned his head to look at Zero, this was the first piece of real emotion she’d ever seen from the man. She just looked at him confused and rightly so. 

"Why does it matter who came first? I thought you weren't meant to care about any of us?"

"I’m not." He shrugged now trying to seem like he wasn’t intrested in the conversation anymore, hoping she’d drop the subject. "But you were the first member of the team, You were in a very bad situation when I found you. I do actually have human feelings you know and I guess, In a way I grew fond of you."

Zero didn’t know what to feel, was she actually touched by this? She’d known One for a few years now and this was the most emotion she’d ever seen the man show, although she did think of him as closed off and cold he’d still saved her so in some way she rested him. "So why keep me away?"

"I didn't want you to ever get hurt, It would hurt too much to leave you behind if you got stuck. But it's a price i'd have to pay."

"Then don't, what you’re saying is that deep down, somewhere in that cold heart of yours you do actually care for this team you’ve created. So change the rule. We all need to be there for each other, especially now." I said reaching out to him.

"You know I can't do that. The mission comes first." His voice grew cold again and she knew she’d never see his vulnerable side again, shrugging off her hand he turned away to stare back out into the darkness.

"Then at least take me back to the team. I can work at the base, I don't want to be alone anymore One." He looked at her dead in the eye. "I’m starting to go stark raving mad staying in those apartments by myself not seeing anyone for years on end takes a toll on a person."

"You're hurting me more by keeping me away from them."

They both sat there for a moment in silence as Zero watched the cogs in One’s head turn, she thought if she pushed enough maybe, just maybe she’d get her way for once.

"Fine.” Did he just agree? “But I’m warning you now, if you get left behind on a mission, or injured I’m not coming back for you." He started up the car again, eerily calm It always annoyed her to no end that she could never figure this man out.

"I've known that since day one." He didn’t say another word as he turned the car around and sped off.

When they reached the base she was shocked to see just how many old and broken down planes One had collected over the years. "You’re still collecting them I see"

"Even got one or two that actually work." He mused.

It may have seem like a childish thought given the circumstances but Zero honestly couldn’t wait to explore every single aircraft in the graveyard. One had made it up the long dirt road by the time Zero came back to her senses, the car stopped and she could see a big crate in front of her and standing outside the only door was a great big dog. 

"Hey boy it's fine, she's with me." The dog then ran to One’s side and he started to pet him affectionately.

I just scoffed, raising my eyebrows at him. “What?” 

“So the dog gets your affection but we don’t?” Zero grabbed her chest, gasping pretending he’d hurt her heart but One just rolled his eyes at her and told her to stop being so dramatic. He then guided her up to an aeroplane that had a cartoon of a ghost with three lightning bolts shooting out of its hand near the entrance.

Zero laughed to herself. "I like that!" Pointing to the symbol.

"It’s in honour of you and your spooky shit." She looked at him shocked. “Don’t say I never do anything for you.”

She let him walk ahead of her so she could get her bearings, what came next was going to be a big shock to her system.

"One, you're back! I’m going to need you to spill, who was the bartender? Come on you’re never nice to anyone! Let alone giving a stranger a ride home." As soon as Zero heard that annoyingly sexy British accent she stopped dead in her tracks.

"I'll let her tell you herself."

Then there was silence. It finally hit her that she was about to meet the only family she’d ever known.

She was mostly scared because all she wanted was for them to like her, which she knew they already did but now, seeing and being with them in the flesh she didn’t want to mess their connection up. Especially with Four. She couldn’t deny that her and Fours connection even just through coms was a strong one, she just didn’t know what that connection meant yet but she was definitely excited to find out, she just hoped her feelings for him aren’t one sided.

She took a deep breath to calm herself, then rounded the corner.

"Hey guys." She smiled at all their awestruck faces, she gave a little awkward waving but internally scolded herself afterwards.

Everyone but Two looked at her in shock, she just had to laugh, that woman was too smart for her own good.  "Well darling, the anticipation is killing us." Fours dark eyes were trained on Zero as he leaned on the table, she swore in that moment her legs turned to jelly.

"Well if you'd actually let me speak you'd find out sooner, wouldn’t you monkey boy." Her words seemed to snap something in him as he shot straight.

Everyone else just laughed as the realisation of who they were meeting struck them. She just smirked at them all, finally she could be in on jokes, eat with them and just get to be around the people she cares about most in this cruel world.

"Zero?!" Three said enthusiastically, bounding towards her and scooping her up into a bear hug.

She felt like all the air was being squeezed out of her but she didn’t mind one bit. "Glad to see there are actually some smart people around here.” She chocked out. 

“Three can you please release Zero, you’re literally suffocating our only hacker.” One said annoyed while he was fiddling with some magnets. 

Three let her down and she just smiled, patting him on the shoulder to let him know she was okay. "Sorry! Sorry, I’m just so excited to finally meet you mami!" He proceeded to kiss both of her cheeks.

She just laughed at how adorable he acted in person, Three had always been one of her favourite ghosts. He wasn’t the smartest and most of the time made the worst decisions but he was sweet and funny and wouldn’t waste a single second if you were in trouble, he’d be by your side. 

"Well dam." Four was leaning with his back against the table, arms crossed and staring Zero down. Her eyes travelled to his and she couldn’t bring herself to look away.

Someone in the room, Zero couldn’t tell who coughed awkwardly which snapped both Zero and Four out of their intense staring competition. 

“So, the new mission?” 

#6 underground #6 underground four #6 underground fanfiction #6 underground billy #6 underground x reader #billy #billy x oc #billy x reader #billy x scout #four #four fanfiction #four x reader #four x zero #four x oc #zero to six edited version

[missallsundayyy]

Feel Up

Robin was leaning against the rail on the Sunny Go, looking out for Dressrosa. Her long raven hair flowed wildly yet smoothly in one direction. It was as if she was ready for a photoshoot and Trafalgar Law had walked out into the courtyard just in time only to look up to the goddess like’ pirate woman. He observed her defined facial features, how her skin looked so porcelain, sharp jawline, how rosy her cheeks were and how her blue eyes were filled with life and wonder. Her bright blue orbs filled with adventure and life, he could see her appreciation towards what she has and what’s around her. His opinion of her in short; a beauty. He, like all the others of course has heard all the nasty rumours about the devil child, having such a high bounty at a young age, being wanted everywhere and anywhere she went must have been traumatizing. Despite the horrendous past she endured, the pain from all that wasn’t present when he looked at her. Such a peaceful and contented aura she had. How he admired her for that.

<timeskip>

“YOSH! Tra-guy you should partner with Robin! She’s very smart and I think you both can work very well together if we were all to be paired. She can know all sorts of territory or types of sand…or whatever that she usually does when we explore a new island…” Luffy trailed off and ran on sight when Sanji started to hand out bentos to the crew.

“OI! Wait! We’ve not discussed the plan---“ Law yelled out to his new pirate ally, oh how was he so appalled by his carefree behaviour and the bewitching part is his whole crew was the same. No cautions, ZERO fucks given when entering a new territory or infiltrating an enemys’ area.

“Please don’t mind Luffy’s behaviour, he can be serious during fights but you can not expect him to act like a Captain or follow any plans. That’s just how he is but there isn’t any other way I’d like him to be.” Nico Robin walked towards the Captain of the Heart Pirates. Law turned to see the raven haired woman smiling at him trying to sooth his frustration towards the idiot of a captain.

“How do you follow him is a wonder, it seems like you’re the only sensible one.” Law grumbled while walking together with Robin into the jungle like island.

<20 mins of exploring the island>

“This island’s ground is quite slippery, the humidity and air feels so much colder than the nights at sea. It's very weird yet interesting, I’m sure Nami would find this very intriguing as well.”

“In that case you better watch your step Nic---“ Before he completed his sentence Robin had already slipped from the watery ground. “oh DEAR!” and he found his hands automatically reaching out for her waist and preventing the archeologist from falling face down. His arms had snatched her waist and pulled her body roughly against his in an attempt to secure her.

Now her bottom which in his opinion was too damn voluptuous was directly pressed against his crotch and he choked out of shock. “Ara-ara…I’m sorry Law-kun.” she giggled in his arms “Seems like I should have been more careful”

“Yes you should '' Law grunt out a reply and despite that his face was beet in colour, the position and her softness was compromising and he had never felt up a woman like this before. Robin on the hand was enjoying the captain’s embarrassment, she knew Law was a very stoic person and she wanted to see how far she could push him. “But it’s okay if I slip again because you would definitely get to grab and feel me up again and I most certainly don’t mind it Law-kun.” her voice teasing him to no end.

His face felt hot, she was still in his arms and her scent clouded his nostrils, the smell of lilies. Robin felt small in his arms but she never had felt this good.

“Shall we continue foraging or would you rather carry me through it ?” Robin turned her face and their eyes met, piercing through each others’ orbs and both had one thing in mind.

“Let’s go Nico-ya” he only wished he could hold the strawhat archeologist longer.

#lawbin #OP #trafalgar law #nico robin #one piece #lawxrobin #law and robin fanfic

[annabethy]

under the mistletoe, watching the fire glow day 9: cliffs

Character A vows to do something nice for a stranger during the Christmas time. Character B is that stranger,, percabeth

Percy happens to think that he’s a nice human being. He tries to be, at least. He has his moments because no one is perfect, but he’s always done his best to be considerate of those around him.

So when his friend tells him that he’s really not a nice person, he just about loses it.

“I am not a bad person!”

Leo raises his hands defensively. “I’m not saying you’re a bad person. All I’m saying is that you could be a little bit more... generous.”

Piper rolls her eyes. “Leave the poor man alone, Leo.”

“I’m generous,” he says, miffed.

“But...” Leo waves his hands wildly, and Percy feels the instinct to punch him in the nose and make him Rudolph. “Do something nice for once.”

“Percy,” Piper says, “he’s just mad that you didn’t give him a piece of your gingerbread cookie. Don’t listen to him.”

Still, it stings just a little bit. Even if it’s a joke, Percy doesn’t think it’s very funny. That’s what prompts him to do something kind this Christmas. He honestly doesn’t know what he plans on doing because what could he do? Buy all of someone’s presents and also go broke in the process? Maybe he could buy someone’s cheap coffee, but then is it really something nice if it’s only two dollars?

Whatever it is, Percy knows that Leo has to be there to see it so he can make Leo choke on his words. The only problem then, though, is that Leo would no doubt say something along the lines of you’re only doing it because you want to prove me wrong, not because you care, bla bla bla, and the Percy will actually shank Leo with a peppermint candy cane.

Percy tries so hard to find the chance to make someone’s Christmas, but it’s so much harder than he would’ve thought. People ignore him when he’s speaking to them about buying their order, or they think it’s some weird Christmas ploy.

He doesn’t get to do something kind until Christmas day.

Percy’s standing in the freezing air on top of a snow-tubing mountain. His friends had dragged him here against his will, because despite being a native New Yorker, he hated the cold. He wanted to be included though, so he came along anyways, stuffed into a black snow suit and a knitted hat. His nose burns from the icy atmosphere, and his fingers are numb. He considers checking for frostbite but then he decides he’d rather not know.

He’s standing on a small wall of ice overlooking everyone else. Leo is somewhere to his right, threatening to push Piper off of the wall, and Percy purposely avoids making eye contact in fear that he’ll be next.

The wall of ice can’t be anything more than five or six feet. He doesn’t know if they’re actually allowed to be up there, but there’s so many people doing the same thing that he’s not too worried.

He watches as a few people jump off of the wall into the fluffy layer of snow, vaguely listening to the conversations around him. He hears a mother hassling her children, and his ears perk up as he notices her muttering something along the lines of her not being able to afford buying them each a hot chocolate from the cabin that lays near the bottom of the mountain.

Percy doesn’t stop to think first, which is probably a mistake.

“I can buy it for you,” he interjects kindly, thrilled that he’s finally getting the chance to do something nice.

The mom looks at him, and it’s almost as though she’s appalled that he’s spoken to her. Percy shrinks back.

“I’m good,” she says.

“I don’t mind,” he continues, more nervous. “It’s only a couple dollars each, and—”

She holds a hand up. “I don’t want to have sex with you.”

Percy’s mind comes to a screeching halt. “What!? That’s not what I—”

“You’re going to tell me that you’re offering to pay twenty dollars and it’s not because you want to sleep with me?”

“No! I was just trying to do something nice for a stranger after my friend said—”

“I don’t want to hear it!” she snaps, already beginning to walk away from Percy. “Follow me and I’ll cut your dick off.”

It’s so shocking to him that he doesn’t even have time to respond before she’s already gone. He truly must have the worst luck because he’s just trying to create Christmas magic, and everyone seems to be doing the exact opposite of that.

Percy’s mouth gapes slightly, his brain still not comprehending what just happened. He’s only pulled out of the haze when someone snorts next to him.

He turns his eyes and catches a girl looking like she was smothering laughter.

“I’m sorry,” she says, laughter now bubbling out of her lips. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen a conversation go so wrong so quickly.”

“I don’t even know what I did,” he mutters, scratching the back of his neck.

“Something she didn’t like, apparently.” She’s still giggling slightly, and Percy thinks it’s kind of cute. She’s shorter than him, and her nose has a red tint to it. He can see the puff of air each time she takes a breath, and she looks like she’s ready to go inside and curl into a ball for a nap.

“God. That’s embarrassing.”

“I got a front row seat to that show,” she says. “Why are you trying to do something nice, anyways?”

Percy is surprised that a stranger would want to talk to him after witnessing that, but he doesn’t mind. “My friend called me a horrible person and said I was going to hell.”

“Ouch.”

“That’s not exactly what he said,” he admits, “but he might as well have. He’s dead to me.”

“And yet you’re still trying to please a stranger,” she says wryly.

“I don’t want to go to hell,” he whines, and she laughs softly.

“I’m sure you won’t go to hell. You might lose your genitalia, but you’re not going to hell.”

“Yes, thank you for the reminder,” he says. The faint music in the background changes songs, and she rolls her eyes.

“This music is getting out of hand,” she says. “It’s like they’re trying to suffocate us in Christmas spirit.”

“It could be worse, don’t you think?”

“Is rather drown in eggnog than listen to another Christmas song.” She thinks for a moment, looking out into the distance off of the cliff of ice. “Can you promise to push me off this cliff if all I want for Christmas is youplays again?”

Percy chokes. “Push you off the cliff?”

“Yes, please.”

“I wouldn’t want to hurt you,” he says.

“Nothing could hurt more than having my ears bleed to that song. I think it would be easier to simply die and get reborn as Santa’s slaves in the north pole.”

“Oh, wow.”

“Besides, this could be your chance to do something nice.”

“Does murder count as something nice?”

“In certain situations, maybe.”

Percy smiles, though he instantly regrets it when his teeth start to ache. “What’s your name?”

“I’m Annabeth,” she says.

“Percy,” he returns. “So before I get arrested for shoving you off a cliff, let me just make sure I’m hearing this right. You want me to push you off that ledge if Mariah Carey starts playing?”

“Exactly. You have my full permission.”

“Great,” he chokes out. They lock eyes and chuckle slightly at their own antics. Percy thinks someone calls his name from somewhere behind him, but he’s much preoccupied to turn around. Percy doesn’t think Annabeth would be someone to bully him, unlike some friends.

Percy thinks he should write a letter to Leo about his recent harassment. He thinks little rascals is a good baseline. It would start with, Dear Darla, I hate your stinking guts. You make me vomit. You’re scum between my toes. That’ll show him.

“Are you alone?” Annabeth asks kindly.

“I’m here with my friends, but I might as well be alone. They’re mean. I don’t like them.”

“You sure they’re your friends?”

“Eh. Not really,” he says, but he’s only kidding. He loves them dearly, even if they’re the worst people he has ever met. Leo in particular.

“Lovely,” she says. Her gloved hands reach up to move a strand of hair away from her mouth. The wind has started blowing harder, and it’s beginning to tangle her hair. “I’ll be your friend, then. I won’t bully you.”

“I hardly know you. How can I be sure you won’t bully me?”

“I guess you’ll just have to stick around and find out.”

He wouldn’t mind sticking around, he thinks. Especially not with the way she’s looking at him, making him feel the urge to pull her in close and protect her from the biting winds.

As they continue talking, Percy can’t help but think that he likes her. He really like her, actually. She’s sweet and funny, always having something to quip back to him. He finds out soon that she lives quite close to him, and something in him screams to ask her if she wants to do something soon. He holds off on that, but he still can feel the way his heart threatens to pound out of his chest.

A sly grin forms on his face as he hears the change in music. It’s not a song that’s easy to miss, so it catches his ear immediately, and he is prepared.

“Hey, Annabeth.”

“What?”

“Guess what’s playing.”

She tilts her head as she listens to the music, and then she groans in annoyance. “Of course it is.”

“I promised to do something nice this Christmas.” She blinks. “You did.”

“I gotta do it to you.”

“Percy—”

“I made a promise,” he says, shrugging. He steps forwards, and she takes a step back, but there’s a wide grin on her face.

“Don’t you dare,” she threatens with zero malice in her voice.

“It’s my duty to you,” he says. “I don’t break my promises.” With that, he fulfils the gap between them, grabbing her in his arms by the waist and lifting her up. She wiggles in his grasp, letting her legs go limp, and she’s laughing until she can’t breathe.

Percy brings her to the ledge, his smile matching hers, and as he tries to drop her as gently as possible, she grabs on tighter and pulls, and he goes tumbling face-first into the snow with her.

He lands somewhat on top of her, and his face is buried surprisingly deep. He pulls his face out of the hole he’s dug, and when he looks at her, her head is thrown back as she lets out uncontrollable giggles. When she looks at him, it only gets worse.

“Your eyelashes are covered in snow,” she gasps, wiping carelessly at his face for him. She kicks him off of her lazily and leans back, looking up at the sky. “You ass.”

“I just did what you asked me to!”

“I didn’t think you’d actually do it.”

“But you’re alive, and I’ve done my good deed! We both win.”

She shakes her head at him, eyeing him is mock disappointment. “I change my mind. I am going to bully you.”

“You’d have to stick around long enough for that,” he reminds her.

“After you just tried to kill me? You bet I’m sticking around, if only for revenge.”

Percy pouts. “I’m so scared.”

“You better be because when I push you off a cliff, it isn’t going to be seven feet into snow.”

“At least I can die happy knowing that I did my good deed for the year.” Percy turns onto his size and gazes deeply into her eyes. Her eyes fit in perfectly to the scene around them, layers of white snow, barren trees in the distance, matching the grey sky above. He really does want to see her again, to find out if she’s as soft as she looks, if she’s as perfect for hugging as she seems, if she wants to kiss him as bad as he wants to kiss her.

He gets his answer when she says, “You haven’t finished your good deed quite yet.” Percy pretends to be oblivious. “Oh? What else do I need to do?”

She smiles in the perfect way he just knows he’s going to fall in love with. “Kiss me.”

He pulls her in close, both of them still laying in the snow, ice beginning to seep into their backs, and when he puts his lips to hers, she’s warm and sweet and perfect.

And when she pulls away to lock eyes with him before slamming his face back into the snow, he can’t even be mad. She’s cute, looking at him proudly, and he’s falling in love with this stranger on Christmas night.

,, courtesy of ash @silenabeth​

#percabeth #percy jackson #annabeth chase #pjo #Percy Jackson and the Olympians #my writing

[vanillawhiskeyflavoredkisses]

I just have to get this off my chest after seeing some very disturbing posts about 9/11 floating around on my dash as well as some truly crude commentary. A lot probably won't agree with my sentiments but I feel like this needs to be said.

I've seen a lot of things on Tumblr in the past that maybe I consider to be in poor taste or don't agree with but I usually just scroll past, sometimes block for curating sake, but today is the first time I truly was shell-shocked. To see the memes and blasé jokes people are making about this day are just absolutely horrific and appalling.

I get that a lot of people on this site now may not remember what happened that day and only learned second hand through school or media or other people telling them. I get that a lot occurred after this that wasn't right which we definitely should be learning from. I also get that there is a lot of anti-American and anti-white sentiments going around currently, especially on this site.

But here's the thing:

Not only Americans died that day. Not only white people died that day. That's the thing about terrorists and what these hijackers did: they don't care about your skin color, your culture, your religious preference, your sexual orientation, your gender orientation, your age, your economic status, your personality, whether you support them or not, your political persuasion, your job, or any of it. Everyone is fair game to them. For crying out loud, look at what the Afghani people are currently going through and how the Taliban are treating their own country's people, women especially. If you think this is bad (which it truly is), have you seen how things went under their rule before 9/11 even happened? Do you know their terrifyingly violent and brutal history? Women had acid thrown in their faces if they didn't wear a full hijab. People were mutilated or executed if they didn't fall in line with the law of the Taliban. And this doesn't even begin to go into Al-Qaeda or Isis. But I'm not here to talk about that or delve into that topic too much.

My point in mentioning all of this is that white Americans weren't the only ones that were killed that day. People of all faiths, of all colors, of different countries, died that day, too. And the unity that is consistently discussed every 9/11 anniversary is in regards to us being aware of that fact, us mourning all of their losses together, and the collective desire to come together and help once the planes hit and after the towers collapsed.

So when people say "why am I supposed to cry over white Americans getting killed that day" think about that. Not only white Americans died that day. And regardless of their color, their nationality, their culture, their religion, etc. anyone dying is always sad. Whether it be a jetliner being used as a weapon that crashed into their floor or someone dying of cancer or someone being killed in a mudslide or someone dying in a car accident -- it is always sad. And empathy should always be shown in response, even if it doesn't impact you personally. Let's not forget these people have loved ones that got left behind, that are still here.

So when people say "if something knocks into a cow and knocks it over, I'm not expected to care, but if something knocks into a building and knocks it over, suddenly I'm supposed to care?" think about that. People aren't grieving two large pieces of steel architecture. People aren't saying "always remember those two towers". The WTC Towers were a symbol (yes, for American wealth, I get it) but became so much more of a multi-faceted powerful symbol after 9/11. The towers represent a way of life before 9/11 happened, but more importantly they represent the people lost that day, who were in the towers when they collapsed. For all of the first responders who were stuck on those floors still trying to help evacuate people to safety when the buildings finally gave. The two footprints and two blue lights aren't a symbol of American wealth or a naivete and simpler way of life pre-9/11 - they are a symbol of memorialization for that day. The Freedom Tower was erected to show that despite the loss of that day, we stood united (even if there seems to be more and more division these days). It's a message to the world that yes, destruction and death happened that day in NYC, but so did rebuilding and life carrying on. It's a symbol of strength, resilience, and unity - something that was everywhere you looked days after this event occurred. The two towers (aka NYC) may have gotten knocked down but the city got back up. They weren't kept down - that's the point of the Freedom Tower.

When people say "I don't understand, what is it that I shouldn't be forgetting since I can't remember it anyway" here is what we all should be remembering despite our age or our connection (or lack thereof) with this event:

2,997 innocent civilians died that day. Among them were 343 firefighters, 37 police officers, 23 Port Authority police officers, 8 EMS workers, and 4 other first responders. Also among them were 246 people on the four planes that crashed.

The passengers of United Flight 93 made a choice to fight back against the hijackers and saved lives that day by sacrificing their own.

Many children lost parents. Many parents lost children. Many brothers lost sisters, and many sisters lost brothers. Many spouses lost their significant others. Many lost friends, family, and loved ones.

For those who want a better connection to this day who didn't experience it and/or don't remember it, and for those others who are seriously lacking in empathy: yes, it was a highly publicized event due to the hundreds of cameras (including media outlets) watching that day, but if the horrific images aren't enough to garner some of your empathy, then there are plenty of other resources at your disposal. Documentaries like 9/11 by James Hanlon and the Naudet brothers, 102 Minutes That Changed America (which shows you not only all of the first-hand eyewitness accounts that day but also lets you hear 911 calls, radio transmissions between firefighters, and people's reactions to the event and each other who were there), 9/11 Firefighters (on Discovery Plus) and even more recently, 9/11: The Turning Point (on Netflix) which provides a 360 degree view of the events that led up to 9/11, 9/11 itself, and what came after, displaying all different viewpoints. You can read the 9/11 Commission Report or there are several books and memoirs out there like Wake-Up Call by Kristen Breitweiser, or even historical accounts in books, newspaper articles, and online. But most importantly, listen to people's stories. The ones who were there, the ones who saw it happen, the ones who ran in to help, the ones who lost loved ones. That is the most important part and the most powerful. On Hulu, ABC News ran segments of 9/11 Twenty Years Later, "Women Of Resilience" being especially powerful. It's hard not to feel a human connection to these stories or any kind of empathy.

For those who are making these jokes and memes, if you like shows like 9-1-1 and Chicago Fire, etc, imagine those first responder characters rushing into those buildings to save lives and losing theirs in the process. If you don't remember 9/11 or feel any connection or empathy, imagine hundreds of Bucks or Eddies or Bobbys or Hens or Chimneys dying that day as they worked to save so many. Sorry to be so blunt because I love those characters too, but do you get a little bit of the connection now? Do you feel any empathy? I'm not trying to equate real life heroes and sheroes with fictional characters of course, but if it helps you to understand a little better in some way, well...I'm throwing it out there.

I myself lived in the Tri-State area at the time of the attacks. I remember seeing the second plane seconds before it crashed into the second building. I remember the devastation I felt watching the first tower collapse knowing that a loved one was most likely inside and how hard I cried thinking he was dead. (thankfully, he had been late to work that day and he got out of the area before the towers came down) I remember the relief and gratefulness we all felt hearing from him to assure us that he was alive when he finally was able to get to a phone, stating he was covered in dust and ash from the buildings. I remember the panic and fear we all felt, thinking the world was ending and we were all going to die, that this was it, this was World War III, after it was confirmed that the Pentagon had also been hit and there was also a downed plane in Pennsylvania. I remember the grief another loved one suffered because she lost her entire floor (she had been out sick that day) and every single one of her co-workers. I remember the race to pick up children from school and get them home as soon as possible. I remember the rage that coursed through us seeing the footage of some people in certain countries celebrating the attacks in the streets, enjoying the deaths of so many Americans, a couple of these countries who lost citizens themselves in these attacks. I remember the camping out in front of the televisions night after night for a week straight afterwards, watching the news 24/7, worrying that there might be more attacks. I remember the feeling of sheer terror anytime a plane was heard overhead or seen appearing low enough in the sky that you could practically make out which airline it was for months afterwards. I remember seeing the lights the first time they were lit from our home. I remember feeling pure fear not only for what happened that day but also what came afterwards (not yet understanding that these weren't practitioners of Islam that did this but radical extremists who had literally hijacked the religion). I remember seeing the devastation at Ground Zero through a tear in the fabric over a fence as we walked through the city months afterwards. I remember not wanting to fly for years. I remember the anger I felt that our government had failed us due to political bs between agencies and countless others (which we found out especially when the 9/11 Commission Report came out) and that because of this horrific and absurd failure, thousands of innocent people had died. I remember seeing the crushed ladder truck, and the toy of the little girl who was on one of the planes at the 9/11 Memorial Museum and all of the pictures in that room that just floored me. (I also remember being pissed off that many were treating it as a selfie op where they were allowed to take pictures, completely missing the point of the museum's existence) But most of all, I remember feeling that life would never be the same for any of us ever again, and that the feeling of safety we had naively enjoyed on September 10, 2001 would never return.

But I also remember the compassion and unity we saw rising in the country after those attacks. I remember the gratitude for all of our first responders, those we lost that day and those who were still with us, actively working to recover those lost and to clear Ground Zero. I remember the feeling of collectiveness, that we all shared grief and showed support to one another in those days afterwards. I remember the fallen heroes and sheroes who ran into those buildings, who were off duty but raced from wherever they were that day to come and help. I remember The Man In the Red Bandana aka Welles Crowther (and many like him who worked to save others) who has become another important symbol of that day. I remember hearing all of the stories of people helping one another before and after the towers collapsed. I remember the good that this day represents. That while we may have seen some of the worst of humanity that day in the form of violence, death, weaponized airplanes, and devastation, we also saw the very best of humanity in the form of our first responders and people helping one another.

Look, did Islamophobia happen? Yes. Was it right? No, absolutely not. As I stated above, I myself feared the idea of the religion until I was educated by a friend of mine about the difference between the religion and extremism. This form of hijacking ideology can be seen in examples like the Westboro Baptist Church or even Hitler. Terrorists do not represent the true spirit of Islam no matter what the former tries to force people to believe. Just as the WBC is not the true spirit of Christianity, and so on and so forth. But even during the time I had feared the religion before gaining understanding and clarity, I never confronted or mistreated any practicing Muslim or Arab-American. Ever. I never posted hate or spewed vitriol against them. Just like with the current pandemic, I still cannot believe there are people out there attack Asian-Americans as if this whole thing is their fault. That's still mind boggling to me and it is absolutely 100% WRONG. It should not be happening. Same with Islamophobia. And it breaks my heart to read that many Arab-Americans and practicing Muslims still worry when this anniversary comes around that they may be attacked. It might not mean much, but I just want to say I am truly sorry for that and you have my full support. Always.

Did we go to war and was it just? Yes we did go to war. Was it just? Afghanistan? I need more information in order to have a fully-formed opinion but there are plenty who say yes and plenty who say no. Plenty who say we made things better over there (before we exited and the Taliban advanced) and plenty who say we didn't and only made it worse. I truly cannot say which assertion is correct and I think it would be narrow-minded and completely moronic (and possibly arrogant and presumptuous?) of me to speak on a subject I know so little about, one way or the other. Iraq? No, I don't think it was just and I honestly wish we could go back and do things differently.

But coming back to 9/11 and what this day means for so many, the people who died, the people who rushed headfirst into danger, the people who lost their loved ones. We saw incredible bravery, selflessness, and compassion for your fellow human that day despite what happened. We saw the strength within ourselves despite the fear and anger. We saw resilience. That is what the anniversary is meant to be a reminder of. The sacrifices, the loss, the courage, and the strength. Black, White, Gay, Straight, Christian, Muslim, Man, Woman, Young, Old -- it didn't matter. We all came together.

So regardless of whether it's the cool thing to do right now on this site (or elsewhere) to hate on America or 9/11 or white Americans or the anniversary itself on the very anniversary of these attacks, I ask that you please consider when posting these hurtful (and frankly harmful) words of hatred and vitriol such as referenced above that there are people out there who lost their loved ones on 9/11, that yes some of them may be on this very site and going through the 9/11 tag, and that some of them may have even lost a loved one in either war and are again on this site reading your words. Regardless of what you think or feel, please consider them and tag appropriately if you're going to post. Please consider that some of these people are currently losing their loved ones due to 9/11-related illnesses because of the cleanup at Ground Zero. Please consider that there are children who lost a parent or loved one, or who were orphaned that day (yes, they exist, we had some in our school district) who are also on this site reading your words. Basically, please just consider and be considerate. Please stop spreading hatred on a day that happened due to hatred; please stop perpetuating that cycle.

Like Martin Luther King Jr. said, "Darkness cannot drive out darkness, only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate, only love can do that."

TLDR: Love and light, my friends. Love and light. ✌️❤️

#9/11 #never forget #remember 9/11 #9/11 isnt a joke or a meme

[yukiwrites]

Kiran, Categorizing

Thank you for the support and patience as always, @xpegasusuniverse! This was so funny to write, I hope you like it!

Summary: Bored during a meeting, Kiran started to sort some of the heroes in a way that he had only done back in his own world, in social media... Now, Sharena, Alfonse and Anna seemed interested in the magical world of the... himbos.

Commission info HERE and HERE!

__________________________

Kiran’s workload after he was summoned to Askr kept increasing exponentially as the war against various kingdoms dragged on. There were many Heroes to keep track of and many different powers coming to play, so he always had to be careful when suggesting a team or a strategy.

Of course, he couldn’t deny that sometimes he made team compositions mostly based on personal preference or how the heroes would interact with one another rather than how well they complemented each other’s strengths, but he never sent those out to dangerous missions, so he liked to keep that to himself.

Take the meeting going on at that moment, for example; he was shuffling through a list of buff-looking heroes to form a team to explore whatever had been going on inside the Illusory Dungeon. No one knew for certain when phantoms of heroes and compelling songs would start appearing and playing there, but whenever lights shone inside it, Kiran formed one of those teams based on his own preferences just to hear the reports once they came back.

Well, the meeting wasn’t solely for this situation as Anna, Alfonse and Sharena were sitting on the round table around Kiran while talking strategies about the many other skirmishes happening in the country. There were some heroes who still had to go to the Training Tower, so the smallest pile of papers by Kiran’s left was a list of those; there were also heroes raring to go explore the Aether Islands, so the second smallest pile was full of requests from them; there had also been reports about suspicious movements in the woods nearby, so some nimble heroes were needed…

There was a lot to do, so Kiran was taking his time to at least form a team he found funny instead of drowning in the weight of his responsibilities like it usually happened to Alfonse. Kiran looked up from the paper in front of him to the sick-looking prince, raising an eyebrow at how intently he stared at a report.

“Alfonse, maybe you should take a break. You’re looking whiter than your own clothes.” Kiran’s hoarse voice from talking all morning made the prince blink and shake his head.

“I couldn’t possibly take a break at an important time such as this-”

“C’mon, Alfonse, Kiran’s right.” Sharena patted her brother’s shoulder, her face still full of energy as though she wasn’t tired at all from sitting at that table for hours. “Let’s go stretch our legs! I’ll come with you.”

Once again Alfonse shook his head. “No. As I said, I can’t cut the meeting short just for this.” He shifted his tired gaze from his pouty sister to the Summoner, “were you almost finished with the team for the Illusory Dungeon, Kiran?”

“Hm? Ah, yeah. I wanted a team of himbos, so I figured Raphael, Arden, Draug and maybe Shiro…? I was torn between him and Chrom, but perhaps Chrom isn’t really one…” Kiran mumbled the later half of the sentence, frowning slightly at the personal files of Chrom and Shiro as though he could find the answer there if only he stared long enough.

Anna raised her finger to ask, but then gave up on it, shaking her head. Sharena didn’t, though.

“Eh? What’s a ‘himbo’, Kiran? Is it something you use to sort the heroes? Or does it have to do with how strong they are?” The princess’ eyes shone, while her brother beside her looked confused yet intrigued.

Snorting, Kiran had to avert his eyes for a moment, wondering how he could have said that out loud. An internet lingo he had used back when he still had social media (though still pretty accurate to categorize people) now came up in this kind of situation. Kiran cleared his throat, fighting back a smirk.

“Well, yeah, it can be considered something to sort them based on how strong they look. A man is only a himbo if he has three characteristics: He has to be buff, kind, -- to everyone, though especially to women -- and stupid. If he’s missing even one of these, he can’t be considered a himbo.”

“Wha-” Anna frowned, placing one hand over her mouth to hide a snort.

Alfonse and Sharena, however, were appalled.

“S-stupid? That’s kind of mean to say about the heroes, though?” Sharena deflated like a sad balloon, sitting back after getting up in excitement about a new word.

“Truly, I- I never expected you to talk about them like this, Kiran.” Alfonse looked more offended than anything, as though all of the built-up trust they had shared had shattered.

Kiran pressed his lips into a thin line, almost unable to stop himself from laughing out loud. “No, I mean it in the best way possible. Look here,” he picked up Raphael’s file, which had a picture of him smiling wide and warmly, “this is the peak example of a himbo. He’s not book-smart nor does he have street-smarts, but his heart? It's as wide as the ocean. He’s kind, but without any ulterior motive, and he’s really, really big and buff.”

Sharena’s jaw dropped in shock, processing the information as Alfonse twitched his eyebrows. “But why refer to him as ‘stupid’...? That’s rather insulting.”

Kiran shrugged. “Well, it’s just the fastest way to call someone who doesn’t have much -- if any -- smarts in them, isn’t it? Look at this one here.” He pulled a file from a nearby pile, lifting it for them to see. “Tibarn here, he’s buff and kind, but he has smarts. You can see many thoughts going inside his head,” different from the zero braincells Raphael seems to have, Kiran thought to himself as he swallowed a snort. “So he’s not a himbo, but a hunk.”

“Alright, I’ll bite, “Anna managed to say after properly managing not to laugh at the absurdity of the situation. “So a himbo has those three characteristics, a hunk is a muscular and kind man. So what of the other combination? If they’re kind and… lacking in smarts?” She asked, barely containing a smirk from sprouting, which mirrored Kiran’s.

“Well, that’s just a decent man, I suppose.” He coughed out, trying to mask a snort as Anna threw her head back in laughter, unable to hold it back anymore.

“Pfft-aahaha! This is new!” She laughed loudly, taking shaky breaths to stop herself from crying as she dried her eyes with one hand. “So, since when have you been ranking the heroes like this?”

Catching her laughter, Kiran shook in amusement for a bit before glancing at the confused royals. “Since before I was summoned here, I suppose. It’s a ‘sorting technique’ used back in my world.”

Sharena’s eyes sparkled once again. “Well, if we can not say that they’re stupid, then I think it’s a good sorting! They have a big heart and big bodies, right? It doesn’t matter that they don’t understand the world around them, just that they’re ready to accept everything at face value!” The princess looked up as though she had made the discovery of the century, while Alfonse beside her crossed his arms to think.

If it was something from another world, Kiran’s world especifically, it was worth giving it a try, was it not? Perhaps if they applied themselves, they’d be able to sort the heroes more efficiently and cut back the time for these meetings so they could focus their energy elsewhere…

“As I was saying, I was in doubt about Chrom because, look: he’s buff enough, though not as big as, say, Draug; he scores high in kindness; but he has SOME smarts… Although he’s impulsive, it’s not like his brain is empty like- ahem, it’s not like his heart is as big as Raphael’s or Shiro’s.”

Not hearing the insulting part about the heroes’ smarts, Sharena nodded in compliance, thinking deeply. “Hmmm, I don’t think I can help in this right away. Can you give us more examples?”

“Sure, look here,” Kiran turned the pile by his left to Sharena. “Hinata, he’s a jock. He’s buff enough, but he’s not really kind and he’s kinda brusque, right?” Kiran held back the ‘he lacks brain cells’ part, saying it only with his eyes to Anna, the only one who truly understood him in all of this. “On the other hand, Stahl… is just a decent guy. He’s kind and although he has some smarts, he’s not buff, so he doesn’t fall into this category.”

“Hmmm, so do you think Owain could be one? He’s stup- ah, lacks smarts enough and he’s a good guy. But he- ah, yeah… perhaps not.” Anna started, but then stopped herself after comparing Raphael’s muscles to Owain’s. “Isn’t this kind of sorting way too specific? I don’t think many heroes fall under the ‘himbo’ category.”

Kiran nodded solemnly, as though they were talking about some important strategy. “Indeed. It’s very hard to find a true himbo, as they’re extremely rare. Hence why I was having trouble with the Illusory Dungeon team.”

“I see… It sounds really important.” Sharena nodded, basically accepting that this was something that went way over her head and tried to catch up in her own way. Alfonse still had mixed feelings about it, but the more seriously Kiran and Anna talked about it, the more he felt like he was in the wrong for finding something iffy about the sorting method in the first place.

“For example, Linus… if only he was a bit kinder, he would be another prime example of a himbo.” Kiran said over Sharena’s mumbling, sighing wistfully. “Lex would also be a good one, but he’s too smart to be a himbo.”

“Oh, I know! What about Keaton? He seems perfect!” Sharena raised her voice as her eyes glanced at one of the lists around Kiran.

The Summoner and Anna exchanged glances. “Not enough muscle.”

“Ah…” Sharena sat back with a pout. “This is really hard…”

“Yeah…” Kiran scratched his temple in thought.

In the following silence, only Alfonse’s voice could be heard after a few minutes. “... Isn’t Lord Hector one, though? From those examples…”

Kiran widened his eyes, jumping out of his seat with a bang. “That’s it! Alfonse, you’re a genius!” He praised, quickly shifting through the files to find Hector’s. “Do you have any more suggestions?”

Taken aback by the sudden cheer, Alfonse gulped. “Um, I thought about Helbindi, especially according to what Princess Yglr told us about him…”

“Hmm… A rare tsundere himbo, huh… perhaps?” Kiran took one hand to his chin in thought, mumbling something under his breath. “Alfonse, you’re on the right track! C’mon, keep the ideas coming!”

“Brother, you’re no fun, you picked it up so quickly! Tell me more!” Sharena protested, manhandling Alfonse into fessing up how he understood Kiran’s vague explanations so well.

Anna snorted under both hands as her shoulders shook from suppressed laughter, wondering how the hell they had ended up talking about that in the middle of a meeting.

Regardless, the topic was too much fun to be ditched now that the four of them were eagerly exchanging suggestions and adding more himbos to the pile, so no one noticed that the important meeting they were having was now a himbo-selection tournament.

Perhaps after night fell, they would come back to their senses, but for now, the Commander, the two royals and the Summoner threw heated debate against one another regarding the amount of intelligence this or that hero possessed.

#fire emblem heroes #feh #anna fire emblem #alfonse fire emblem #sharena fire emblem #my writings #yuki's commissions #kiran fire emblem

[birbleafs]

[fic] A Tragicomedy In Five Acts

Series: Saiki Kusuo no Ψ-nan || The Disastrous Life of Saiki K. Rating: T Genre: Friendship, Humour, Breaking the Fourth Wall Character(s): Akechi Touma, Saiki Kusuo, Saiki Kurumi, Saiki Kuniharu, Saiki Kuusuke Warnings: None, save for the canon-typical shenanigans Summary: Akechi has made a habit of showing up unannounced, uninvited at the Saiki residence. The inevitable "bonding" occurs and Kusuo despairs; the world continues to turn. A/N: A piece I wrote for the Disastrous Life Zine, a charity zine. I wanted to share the uncut version here since I like how it reads more (it's not too different from zine version, though). Leftover sales are currently still live, so here's your last chance to grab some limited items if you had missed the pre-orders earlier! Thanks to the mods & other contributors over at @disastrouslifezine, for all their hard work on this project. Many thanks also to my bro Digi for the awesome beta work and for always being an all-round great pal ❤ Fic can also be read AO3. _______ i. It’s a problem Saiki Kusuo should have—could have—nipped earlier in the bud, when he’d been forced to spend a whole Sunday with Akechi Touma betting on horse-racing. But between Akechi being (begrudgingly) accepted as one of the PK Psychickers to Kusuo having to stop a meteor from slamming into the planet—well, a lot had happened. Akechi had since taken to visiting the Saiki residence at random, with little notice in advance. On his second visit, Mom had invited him in before Kusuo could intervene. If it weren’t for the cupcakes Akechi had brought along—not to mention the terrifying heat of Mom’s demonic glare at the first sign of a protest—Kusuo would have teleported him miles away without hesitation. That’s how Kusuo finds himself now—glowering at Akechi who’s sitting politely in his room and firing a running commentary about nothing and too many things all at once. Resigned, he leans back into his study chair and asks, point-blank: What do you want, Akechi?

“Your mother is lovely as always,” Akechi replies instead, dancing around the question. “I’m grateful she’s gone from remembering me as ‘Pee Boy’ to ‘Kusuo’s Friend Who Only Ever Wets His Pants Occasionally’. Surely that’s a sign we have gotten closer.” It sounds just as terrible as the first—only a simpleton would be okay with that as a defining trait, Kusuo retorts. In any case, we’re hardly more than classmates. So, why are you here again? “I thought you would have realized it by now with your telepathy. But I suppose I can explain it for the sake of the readers!” Akechi beams, holding up a small case in his hand. Don’t just casually break the fourth wall, Kusuo frowns, even as he leans forward for a closer look. Akechi pops the case open and turns towards the game console. “I was recently gifted this game by my cousin, who assured me that, while underrated, it’s still a cult hit among fans. I thought it would be fun to play it together.” Kusuo stares flatly at the title OVERWORKED displayed on the disc as it slides into the console drive, already unimpressed. That is such a blatant rip-off. “Oh, no, it's a completely different game from the one you’re thinking of!” Akechi says. “Here you play as the overworked waiter of a cafe who serves multiple orders at once and takes over the cooking whenever the head chef throws a tantrum and storms right off.” How is that different from OVERC***ED? It is totally OVERC***ED! “Regardless, shall we have a play-off?” Akechi offers the controller to him. “Winner gets this box of cupcakes. I got them from the best pâtisserie in town, which is no easy feat. Why just this morning I left home at the crack of dawn to secure a spot in the queue, and even then, there were already about 30-odd people ahead of me! Who knew it was so popular—A-ah!” Kusuo yanks the controller easily from Akechi’s hand towards him with telekinesis, a glint of determination in his eyes now. Best two out of three levels. Loser also has to leave immediately. Akechi grins knowingly and cracks his knuckles, reaching for the second controller. “You’re quick to assume victory, Kusuo-kun. Very well, then!” Thirty-seven minutes later and Kusuo’s left staring at the final scores, appalled. He would have won if his character hadn’t kept freezing in place and glitching at crucial moments, messing up in the kitchens and sending out wrong orders. How is he always losing to Akechi like this? Clearly the universe is still conspiring against him. “You were so close to beefing my lask score dhoo,” Akechi says shamelessly through a mouthful of strawberry frosting. “And my, deez fupfakes are s’per dhasty!” Are you taunting me now? Kusuo scowls enviously at the cupcake in Akechi’s hand before he huffs, slinking back into his chair. Well, I’ll be staring dejectedly out my window for a bit, so feel free to eat your cupcakes and then leave. But Akechi only laughs then and, to Kusuo’s surprise, moves to place a chocolate cupcake before him. “You’re so melodramatic, Kusuo-kun. I never said the winner can’t share.” ... I guess you didn’t. They spend the rest of the afternoon eating cupcakes. _______ ii. This again? It’s been a month, but Kusuo already feels a sense of gloom settling over him when Akechi steps into the genkan. He would have been fine with leaving Akechi outside blathering away through closed doors for the entire day while he pretended not to be home, but obviously Mom is having none of that. “I’m so glad you’ve been coming over to play with Ku-chan!” she greets cheerfully. “I couldn’t believe it when I first heard, but you and Kusuo are getting along well, huh, Akechi-kun!” Dad says with a sagely nod, looking every bit the part of the morally upright, reliable father. Bold of you to believe such delusional notions of camaraderie, or that you even look the part of an admirable adult, Kusuo comments drily, before turning to leave. “We don’t just get along,” Akechi chimes in reply. “You could even say our friendship is super-califragilisticexpialidocious!” GET OUT. If looks could kill, Kusuo’s current expression is pure genocide. But his parents are already fawning and AH-HYUU-!!-ing at Akechi’s words, tears of joy gushing down their cheeks like an endless waterfall. Kusuo watches in quiet despair as Akechi is readily accepted into their fold with welcomed embraces, a key development in this romantic soap opera. Oi, what’s with the misleading narrative?! We’re not in that kind of fanfic right now! Dad and Akechi hit it off well enough, one thing leads to another, and Kusuo suddenly finds himself roped into playing MECH-O ARENA VR on the WAB station in Dad’s study. Seriously, stop it with the terrible rip-offs of actual games already, Kusuo frowns as he watches Dad’s and Akechi’s characters flitting about on the screen to fight off an incoming attack. “I suppose it’s not very original, is it?” Akechi says, punching the controller buttons in a flurry of movements. “But it’s different enough that we can probably avoid any unwanted copyright lawsuits.” That’s completely beside the point. Dad’s wholly immersed with the game now, so it’s impossible for Kusuo to get rid of Akechi without Dad throwing a childish fuss about losing his new gaming buddy. Not to mention Mom’s uncanny ability to appear with coffee and snacks each time Kusuo had tried to inconspicuously retreat back into his room, all while exuding an ominous aura that effectively dissuaded his need to leave immediately. Good grief—everyone’s being such a pain today, Kusuo sighs, before he finally relents to Mom’s cajoling to team up with her against Dad and Akechi in the final round. He figures it can’t get worse than this anyway. That is, until Kuusuke gets involved. _______ iii. When Kusuo returns home from a quick grocery trip for Mom, he walks into a surprisingly empty living room. He can hear Dad and Kuusuke’s voices from upstairs but for some reason he’s not quite able to perceive the atmosphere within—it’s as if his senses are partially blocked by a cognitive fog with the study engulfed in a dead zone. Must be that prototype “router” Kuusuke had installed in Dad’s study yesterday. Kusuo has zero interest in his brother’s tiresome antics, but is compelled nonetheless to check on them, if only to ensure Kuusuke isn’t playing Mad Scientist and coaxing Dad into yet another deranged human project. He opens the door, nearly lashes out in shock with telekinesis when he sees Akechi staring through the doorway with a creepy, owlish expression. “Oh, were you actually surprised, Kusuo-kun?” Akechi says. “My apologies for frightening you like that.” Kusuo studies the room cautiously, only to realize he’s unable to hear anyone’s thoughts with telepathy. He glares at his brother in suspicion. “Welcome back, little brother!” Kuusuke greets him with a Cheshire grin. “I see you’ve got yourself a new playmate. Hmm? Ah, you must think it strange that I've taken to Akechi-kun so readily.” Strange and highly dubious, Kusuo counters. What are you scheming? “Well, Akechi-kun shows the most potential and capacity for mental growth amongst the lesser primates close to you—” What a disparaging worldview. And stop deflecting! I know you can still understand me. “—So, he may yet make a good test subj—Ah, I mean, a good friend! Interesting specimens tend to gravitate towards you, after all. Though his propensity for peeing sure is troubling, isn’t it? Haha!” You can excuse questionable human experimentations, but you draw the line at incontinence? Kuusuke attempts a nonchalant shrug. “Priorities, amirite?” “But this is amazing, Kuusuke-san,” Akechi says, glancing up in awe at the blinking device on the ceiling. “The telepathy canceller really does block our thoughts efficiently!” “It’s child's play compared to Kusuo’s abilities,” Kuusuke says, seemingly modest, but Kusuo doesn’t miss the devious glint in his eyes when he reaches into his coat pocket to pull out what looks suspiciously like a detonator with a giant red button. “Still, with this, Operation SM☆SH can now finally commence—” Wait, Operation what?? Kuusuke, don’t you dare...! But Kuusuke is already pressing the button, and the study is plunged into darkness as the lights flicker off and the blinds draw shut. Alarmed, Kusuo wrenches the detonator away from Kuusuke’s grip with his telekinesis. What did you just do?! There’s an electronic whirr, a blinding flash, and Kusuo finds himself suddenly staring at a large LCD screen as it emerges from the ceiling. Music blares from overhead speakers as a cinematic opening sequence begins to play. “There you are, Kusuo!” Dad looks up from behind the coffee table where he’d been fiddling with the game console. He adjusts the VR headset over his eyes. “It’s time to finally beat you at SUPER SM☆SH BUDS as payback for last time! HII-YAAAH!!” ... Oh. So it’s just another game. “That’s right!” Kuusuke claps his hands together, blissfully ignoring the heat of Kusuo’s baleful glare. “I heard about your horse-racing bet from Akechi-kun and found this as the best way to even the odds for other types of games.” “The idea came to me while peeing in the shower; to find ways you could play and not get bored easily, Kusuo-kun,” Akechi adds in unnecessary detail. “But I didn’t think Kuusuke-san could actually pull it off.” “Here, Kusuo,” Dad says, waving his controller. “Come choose your character—” But Kusuo’s already teleporting away, fleeing the wretched upheaval within his own home to hide at Cafe Mami for the rest of the day. _______ iv. Akechi corners him after school three weeks later. Kusuo is surprised and unsurprised all at once; he had worn the germanium ring to class, after all, in a bid to avoid spoilers for the direct-to-streaming release movie adaptation of a book he’d been fond of. It’s easy to ignore everyone’s spoilery chatter when it isn’t droning directly into his mind—he’d kept his fingers stuck into  his ears each time class ended, oblivious to the strange looks thrown his way, and had even hidden away in the restroom cubicle during breaks, successfully avoiding any interaction with the usual human nuisances. Until now, that is. “Let’s walk home together, Kusuo-kun!” Akechi calls, jogging after him. I’m suddenly deaf and sound has eluded me, Kusuo deadpans as he breaks into a sprint, determined to leave before Akechi starts blabbing spoilers. “I noticed you weren’t quite yourself today,” Akechi continues, catching up with him.  “And I thought it might have something to do with the ring on your left index finger that you’ve fondled precisely seventeen times throughout the day.” What an awful way to describe it. I didn’t fondle anything. “Perhaps the material of that ring works in the same manner as the telepathy canceller—which would explain why you seemed uncharacteristically skittish today since you’re pretty bad at discerning people’s intentions without your telepathy.” What are you? A psychic? But Akechi only persists. “I realized later that you’d always leave whenever anyone started talking about that new movie on Netfl*x—” Can’t hear now, Kusuo slaps his hands over his ears. Gone horribly deaf. “And I figured it must be that you haven’t watched it yet for some reason, like maybe your home internet is down because your father forgot to pay the bills for three whole months and so it got cut—” How did you even..? Kusuo grimaces. N-nope, not listening! 100% deaf! “I know you don’t have a mobile phone to watch it on either,” Akechi continues. “So, that’s why I wanted to invite you to my house today, to watch it together. Oh, don’t worry, I know absolutely nothing about the movie. In fact, I’d only heard Kaidou-kun screaming out the title just ten minutes ago.” Kusuo pauses then, glancing back at Akechi in hesitance. Akechi only meets his wary gaze with a knowing smirk, and says, “We also have strawberry shortcake in the fridge.” _______ v. I don’t suppose there’s a good reason this time either, Kusuo sighs wearily, closing his book. Still, there’s a glimmer in his eyes; he knows Akechi had come bearing gifts—a selection of coffee jellies topped with cherries and chocolate drizzle. “I’ve made a habit of crashing your place unannounced, haven’t I?” Akechi offers a contrite grin, watching as Kusuo helps himself to a spoonful of jelly. “I do apologize, but whenever I get restless, I find myself wandering here by instinct. Admittedly, I was worried about being a bother, but your mother is always so welcoming at the door despite that dreary, constipated look in your eyes—” You are being a bother. Like a persistent mosquito that thinks it's summer all year round, Kusuo grouses with his Most Annoyed Expression, knowing how ineffectual his Feigning Ignorance Face had become over time. Also, have you graduated from pee references to shitty jokes now? Disgusting. But Akechi takes it all in stride, undeterred by Kusuo’s ugly grimace and acerbic jibes. “—Plus, it’d be considered extremely rude if I didn’t come in after that, and I certainly do not want you to think of me as rude. You’re a friend I hold in high regard, after all. I always have, ever since I found out it was you who saved me from the bullies back then.” The earnestness in Akechi’s words stumps him, if only a little. And though Kusuo is careful to keep his surprise from showing, there’s a part deep down in his not-so-granite heart that feels a touch of warmth at the sentiment. Akechi’s already placing the Scrabble board on the floor, so he misses the ghost of a smile that crosses Kusuo’s lips. Did Akechi honestly think he could beat a psychic at Scrabble too? How naive. “You’re probably thinking how naive I must be, believing I could beat you at a board game with your powers and all,” Akechi notes cheerfully, almost as if he’s a mind-reader himself. Kusuo frowns, slightly disgruntled by the fourth-wall breaking once more and wishes they would give it a rest for once. Overusing a trope gets really tiring, you know? Still, he smiles again as he takes a seat across from Akechi—who is now shuffling the Scrabble chips while nattering away about the history of board games and how the loser would have to give up his share of coffee jelly (as if Kusuo would allow it to come to that again). Two Sunday visits per month only, Kusuo says, lifting several chips into the air with a wave of his hand. If you beat me... I’ll allow it. Akechi’s eyes widen, before he breaks into a playful grin. “Very well, then. May the best man win.” Kusuo only lets out a soft laugh. Perhaps it’s not too late to pick up where they had left off in grade school. —End—

#saiki kusuo no psi nan #the disastrous life of saiki k. #saiki kusuo #akechi touma #disastrous life zine #fanfic #please check out and support the other contributors' pieces too !

[invisibleinorange]

Bridgerton’s Adrift 16/?

Chapters: 16/? Fandom: Bridgerton Rating: T Warnings: Presumed Character Death Relationships: Colin Bridgerton/Penelope Featherington,  Eloise Bridgerton/Penelope Featherington(besties),  Bridgerton Family Dynamics, Simon Hastings/Daphne Bridgerton Characters: Colin Bridgerton,  Penelope Featherington, Eloise Bridgerton, Anthony Featherington,  Benedict Bridgerton,  Portia Featherington, Violet Bridgerton, Genevieve Delacroix Additional Tags:  Bridgerton, Polin Summary:  Unexpected bad news arrives for the Bridgerton Family (and friends) regarding Colin's travels. This will be a series that is set after "The Duke and I" or season one of the show. It is a companion piece to "Goodbyes".

Violet Bridgerton wasn’t thrilled.  She’d spent half the evening awake doting on Daphne but still took the time to ensure she was home and up in time for breakfast.  She’d made sure that the staff knew to cook extra.  Celebrating her third son’s return home was of the utmost importance to her.  She thought there was no better way than ensuring they made up for lost time by having his favorite things to eat.  He was noticeably absent from the table though, long after his other siblings started to fill in their seats.

He wasn’t the only one absent though.

Benedict had at least had the decency to catch her in passing, making up some story about business at Aubrey Hall that he needed to attend to on behalf of Anthony.  

Then there was the noticeable absence of Penelope.  She could only assume that the previous day’s events had been a bit much for the poor girl. She wouldn’t begrudge her needing a little privacy to digest it all.

Anthony, Eloise and Francesca were making idle conversation. Hyacinth and Gregory were arguing who was going to get to eat Colin’s food if he didn’t come down.

It was so unlike Colin to be late for a meal though.

“Perhaps, you should go look for him,” she started to suggest to her eldest. “I sent a maid earlier and they said he hadn’t slept in his bed.”

Anthony tried desperately to not smirk at that information.  He clearly wasn’t concerned.

“I’m sure that he’s –“

He wanted to say fine.  He easily could have made some excuse up for him about probably just falling asleep elsewhere.  There was no point in lying though, especially as the guilty party started approaching the table.

Colin’s hair was in disarray and while he was dressed, he was a bit messy.  Anthony knew that look well because he’d somehow gotten away with it many a time in his earlier rake days. Colin was certainly going to have to work on his subtly lest their mother see past it.

“So nice of you to join us,” Anthony teased. “You look like you tossed and turned all night.”

Colin might have had a smile on his face that not even sibling mockery could kill but that didn’t mean he didn’t kick Anthony hard as he took his seat.

“Why yes, it was quite a hard night.”

Anthony raised an eyebrow at that.

Violet looked at her boys skeptically but was prepared to let it slide.   Perhaps it had been because she’s thought she’d lost Colin or perhaps it was because she was getting soft with age but she didn’t really care to try to get overly involved when it came to some things.

Ignorance really was bliss at times.

“You really should eat up,” she told him. “After a hardy meal, maybe you’ll be able to properly catch up on your rest.”

Of course,  whatever ignorance she wanted to have about what was happening in her own household was a bit harder when almost on cue just a few moments after her son, Penelope entered the room.

She was certainly dressed but there was no amount of fabric or cosmetics that were going to hide the purple-pink marks across the expanse of her throat.   It was such a ghastly display that even Violet had to gasp.

Eloise’s eyes widened as Penelope took the empty seat next to her. She gave her an extended look before giving Colin an accusatory look across the table.

“What happened to your neck?”  Hyacinth asked with zero filter and all the purity that made it clear that she absolutely didn’t grasp why no one else was asking about it.

“Hyacinth,” Violet said trying to get her child to have some manners.

Even as Colin looked guilty and Penelope reddened, Anthony couldn’t help but let out a boisterous laugh at the whole thing. Sure, he probably should have been making a fuss about honor but watching Colin squirm was his idea of fun.

“Colin, do you know anything about what happened to Penelope?” he tried to keep a straight face as he asked.  “Her neck was just fine yesterday and now it looks like she’s been attacked.”

“Enough!”  Violet said.  “I’ve raised you all better than this. Your father would be appalled at all of you.”

If Penelope could have melted away into the wood of the table and disappeared she certainly would have.

Especially when Violet dismissed the younger Bridgertons from the table, ordering them to finish their meal elsewhere, as well as,  Eloise and Francesca who were far too delicate to hear.

“Would you like to explain what you were thinking?”  Violet said, the meal completely forgotten now that she was complete and utter mother mode.

“Yeah, Colin, what were you thinking?” Anthony mirrored, putting a hand on his hips, feigning discipline when the look on his face made him look more like a mischievous scamp.

“You be quiet, this is your fault.  Maybe if you actually focused more on finding a match and less on your own desires, your brother wouldn’t think this is acceptable behavior. No wonder Benedict was in such a hurry to leave this morning.

“I have Benedict’s permission,” Colin said after a long moment. “And it’s not like I … took all the liberties, even if I wanted to.”

Anthony shook his head.  Nope. That wasn’t the right answer if he wasn’t trying to get castrated by their mother.

“Colin!”  Violet’s face couldn’t have been more shocked and appalled.  “You get none of the liberties. Not until you’ve married her and she was just engaged to your brother yesterday and I know that it’s – complicated but there is no excuse for this behavior. You can’t just come back and do whatever you want.”

“Have you looked at Penelope lately?”

“Yes but –“

“Well… sorry, but I couldn’t help myself.”

“You need to get a grip on your impulses or you’ll wish you’d have drowned,” Violet told him sternly.  “Just because the Ton doesn’t see what happens in here the servants talk and all it takes it one person saying something and it gets to Lady Whistledown. You’ll ruin the poor girl. You can’t just do whatever you want.”

“I wanted it too,” Penelope said tentatively.

Violet’s head spun from where she’d been going in on Colin and looked at the other girl appraisingly.

“I love you like a daughter and I pray that one day you’ll give me grandchildren but I swear to God if my son doesn’t keep his hands and mouth to himself until the day Bridgerton replaces Featherington,  he won’t be able to use the thing he was clearly thinking with,”  Violet said, trying to keep her voice level.

She had no doubt that her other children were trying desperately to listen to the conversation through the door.

“You’re the one who bought her that –“ Colin tried to argue though he knew that his mother certainly wasn’t going to just accept them doing whatever they wanted under her roof.

She clearly wasn’t hearing it.

“Anthony, you created this problem. You fix it,”  Violet said throwing up her hands,  completely abandoning her the half-eaten breakfast. She’d lost her appetite for what was left.

As she stormed out the door, Colin couldn’t resist grabbing a sausage and stuffing it into his mouth.

--

“So let me get this straight, you didn’t defile her?”  Anthony asked with amusement over his glass of whisky. It was still far too early for this but there were certain occasions when it was appropriate to start drinking after breakfast. Your little brother getting absolutely reamed by your mother for corrupting the houseguest was one of those special occasions.

“There was some stuff but no, she wouldn’t let me,” Colin said choosing to be decisively discreet and selective about what information he shared.   There had certainly been some kissing, some touching but Penelope had kept him in check. After a while, he’d just taken to laying there with her and telling her every little detail since he’d left and then she’d done the same.  They’d stayed up talking until the sun began to rise and only a few hours of sleep.

“If mother asks I told you to start behaving yourself,” Anthony said after a long moment. “But in reality, I’m going to tell you to at least have the decency to do it outside of this house.  It’s much harder to hide it when you’re doing it here. You also have to work on your technique.  She can leave marks on you but you can’t leave marks on her, it’ll give you away every time.  If you’re not able to get them to cave, you’re not doing something right.”

“Rookie mistake. I’m not quite on your level of rake,” Colin said with a shrug. “Plus, I do want to make things right with her. I promised Benedict that I would. I’d ask for your advice but … I didn’t hear any complaints.”

“Of course, you didn’t,” Anthony said with a laugh. “You’re a Bridgerton.  You won’t have epic returns from the dead as a card to play though.  If you hadn’t, you’d have gotten it a million times worse from mother. Speaking of which, next time can you write so that we don’t end up in this situation.  Benedict doesn’t usually ask for me to lie for him when he needs to escape.”

“He just needs time,” Colin said with a shrug.  “I won’t pretend to understand how he’s feeling but I did give him the opportunity to stop me. I don’t know if he’d told me that he still wanted to marry her, I wouldn’t have still tried to stop it though.”

“Well don’t mess it up,” Anthony said after a minute.  “We happen to all actually like her. The next time I put money into a wedding, it better happen.”

“It will.”

#⚜ writings — polin #polin #colin bridgerton #penelope featherington

[vidalinav]

Queen of Monsters: Chapter 7

Summary: Nesta and Cassian reach an understanding 

Rating: M (Warning for mentions miscarriages/stillbirths)

Read also: Chapter List, General Masterlist

I am so late for this update. Also, I wrote this on the fly so hopefully it’s edited well enough but who knows really. Certainly not me. 

~

Nesta felt acutely aware that she was flitting through emotions. Like she was writing her feelings on a notebook and ripping out every page. Excitement dropping behind her with neat, printed script, then sadness, then grief, something like disappointment landing at her feet. Nesta could only feel irritation at the transient moods—anger that not only was she littering but that she was wading through it all and drowning in paper cuts.

After their spat, Cassian had dropped her off at the inn and quickly flown away. Nesta huffed at the thought of him, sulking and quiet. She had felt… on top of the world at the thought of going home and that look, the dark eyes and furrowed brows, that blasted look made Nesta want to roar. Suddenly guilt had unwelcomely wormed its way in, settling in her chest, and her world had gotten that much smaller in the blink of an eye.

But Nesta paused short at her thoughts.

Home? That was an odd way to describe the city she despised.  

On a good day, Nesta had only tolerated Velaris. All the noise had given her a headache—the people yelling, the children laughing, the endless chatter that seemed to envelop the city in a soft hum. And the smell? The smell had made her nauseous. Spices, baked bread, and the Sidra. The Sidra sinking to the sea, carrying the fishy scent with it.

Nesta remembered that scent most of all, remembered wanting to laugh at that. Such a beautiful place and yet the imperfection permeated the city as much as any of the starlight, as much as any of the dreams.

But perhaps what really made Nesta reel were the people themselves.

How many times had they congratulated her on a victory won? Their smiles laced at the edge with cold, winter memories as they remembered too what war felt like. But perhaps if they remembered it like she did they would not praise her for cutting off a monster’s head, when at one point she had she wished it on all of them.

Nesta clenched her fists, bringing them up to her mouth. The warmth lasted only seconds as she breathed into them, and she cursed herself for once again forgetting her gloves.

Even now she didn’t want to say his name. In her head, she’d referred to him as that monster and nothing else. She tried not to think of him, to hear the whisper of his laugh or the horror of his words. Nesta thought that if she allowed him to seep into the marrow of her bones, he’d be the actual victor of the war and not the girl who’d looked up at the sword plunged into his neck and twisted…

So Nesta refused to think of him as she trampled through the snow laced town, the buildings all covered with thick ice. She found herself wanting to find those females again, hoping that they were spewing hate and other nonsensical ideas to the impressionable young…or not so young beings of the camp.

She wanted to hear the yells, feast on the hostile anger, and let it renew her own. Let it seep into her bones so that once again she’d remember why she was here and why she was not in Velaris.

Nesta was almost near the center of town, the winding streets pulling her forward, when she noticed a form taking shape in the distance. The figure stood huddled in furs and the wind seemed to gather strength, blowing a flurry of snow her way. Nesta, in all her anger, didn’t notice that the world hadn’t been quiet that day. Waking mountains huffing out a humdrum of wind.

Nesta would have walked right past the figure, no greeting, or smiles. But she caught the extended arm, the jolt of a grimace as the… female leaned against one of the building walls. She clenched her stomach and as Nesta neared she could see that the female was pregnant. Heavily so.

It was Lord Ovis’s wife and as she hunched over, letting out a gasp, Nesta could only see the horrifying image of mucous-like blood on crisp white.  

She swallowed her distaste and ran to her.

“Don’t touch me,” the Illyrian gasped as her wings flourished out. Nesta’s hands reached out to hold her steady but the female hit them away.  

“You’re in pain,” Nesta replied derisively, noting the sweat on her brow and scent of must in her clothing.

“That’s no business of yours,” She gritted out. Nesta paused in her pursuits, giving the Illyrian a bland look and glancing to the street she’d come down from. The female would have to walk up a hill, maybe two, or… fly, though Nesta doubted she could by the looks of it.

“Where are you trying to go?”

The female yelled out in frustration, to tell her to get lost probably, but Nesta stood taller at the tone.

“Look,” Nesta demanded, the female squinting at the command. “I don’t know how much you think you can do this by yourself, but there is no one here! And I doubt there will be people trekking up these mountains when it looks like a storm is coming. So where. Are. You. Going?”

Maybe, Nesta was also a touched panicked judging from her voice but the female finally relented, grunting out an explicative Nesta was surprised to hear from this female who was always dutifully quiet.

Alright, Nesta thought, this can’t be too hard.

“The inn,” the Illyrian spoke. Nesta must have looked confused because the female rolled her eyes impatiently. “Daphne, the inn owner’s wife… she’s delivered before.”

She has? Nesta remarked to herself. Nothing about that female seemed to scream midwife, with her fake smile, the tight skin of her cheeks so forced Nesta thought it might have hurt to act pleasant. Midwives should have been stern but kind, who radiated calm. Nothing was peaceful about that female who wouldn’t even give her directions.

Nesta resisted laughing in outright shock.

“The inn it is then,” Nesta confirmed with a nod of her head, holding on to the Illyrian as she leaned against her. The wings were heavier than she thought, and they dragged behind, making the walk infinitely harder in the snow.

But they arrived with little complaint, Nesta huffing almost as much as the female who kept a level-head for someone about to give birth. She doubted she’d act the same if it was her.

As Nesta pulled open the door, Daphne rushed forward at the sight of the female, forcing Nesta away.

Nesta scoffed at the small attack. As if she walked herself up that hill!

“You must be freezing! Let’s get you into a warm bath. Gina!” She called, setting the female at a seat and then rushing towards where Nesta knew were the kitchens, “Get some hot towels and warm up some water and bring it to the room. Don’t dally!”

Nesta watched the plump female disappear behind the door and looked to the other who was now seated at the settee, her head back and her eyes closed.

Her job considered done, Nesta turned to leave, but the female gasped harshly, clenching her fists to her stomach. When the Illyrian looked up again, she zeroed in on her, and Nesta swore she saw agony in her face. Pain and… something worse. Something Nesta wanted to run from. Far and fast away.

“Please find my husband,” She croaked, the words tinged with warning.

Nesta stared at the female, the obligation settling in, and she stepped back with the discomfort of it all.

Nesta didn’t voice her answer as she walked through the doors, as the wind whipped her hair, as the temperature seemed to drop within moments. She didn’t look back at the inn as all of her feelings began to whirl around her once more.

Nesta merely ran.

Far and fast away.

~

When Nesta arrived at the training fields, her hair half-askew, her hands patting at her face to warm herself, no one was there. That made sense though because the training fields were all outside and there was no use fighting when the cold hit worse than any punch. So, Nesta ran to the large shacks, the saunas that she knew were tucked away from sight.

She almost felt it indecent to enter such a place, and the old her would have been thoroughly appalled,  but this new Nesta had seen far more of the male body than her previous counterparts, so she simply shrugged her shoulders and pushed open the doors.

They creaked as they moved and Nesta peered inside, cautious that she might see more than what a night of drinking let her heartily accept.

When she saw no one was there, Nesta wanted to scream in frustration.

“You shouldn’t be here,” A rough voice came out from behind her, making her spine stiffen.

The male leaned against the doorway as she turned towards him. His stance casual in his boots and leathers. He didn’t wear any coat, which she thought was arrogant of him when the wind whirred from outside and shook the building.

Kallon’s gaze slid over her and Nesta wanted to back away, the thoughts of Thomas appearing in her mind. He didn’t move from his place though, and Nesta would not give him the satisfaction of cowering.

“I’m looking for your father,” She replied, her words poignant and pernicious. Kallon raised a brow, but his expression marked one of boredom. Nesta’s jaw hurt from how hard she gritted her teeth. “You’re mother is going into labor.”

Kallon seemed to grow taller at the words, his wings rising to block the light of the door. The menacing shadows painted him in full glory. Still, he was not the worst beast she’d seen.

“I think she’s having… complications,” Nesta explained as best she could. Somehow she felt an ache in her chest for the female, her pain leaving a scar where Nesta thought she’d feel nothing.

“She is not my mother,” He glowered. She could hear the solid steps of his boots, one after the next as he angled closer to her. Sharp taps like the pulse she could hear through his chest. “And I don’t really care what happens to the runt.”

Nesta peered up at him, noted the shiny gleam of his dark eyes, the facial hair that stroked up his cheeks, his nose high and pointed. Kallon was too used to be intimidating, she thought, because he walked slowly as if he was a predator.

Nesta was no prey.

“That’s your blood,” she said, a bite to her words. “Your family. Your brother or sister.”

“No blood of mine would ever be tainted by so low of a female.”

Nesta scoffed, her eyes widening with the shock she couldn’t contain. “You’re a real bastard aren’t you?”

“I am not a bastard,” He announced, stepping in front of her. Nesta had to tilt her head to look into his eyes. “But that thing is as good as one… Didn’t your dog ever tell you? What we do to bastards around here?”

Her fists clenched as he jeered, some fire rising in her chest until she could only hear a soft hum. Her chest ached from keeping it all in, but she willed herself to remain calm, that power in her veins laying unbridled, biding its time.  

“The only bastard I know is standing right in front of me and if the village is ready to throw you to the wolves, please let me know when procession starts.”

Kallon’s gaze turned to liquid ore as his nostrils flared as if he’d start roaring fire, but she merely crossed her arms. Her chin raised defiantly in that you mean nothing look. Nesta had practiced it well.

“You look surprised… Did you think I would be intimidated?” She titled her head lightly and laughed. “Why should I be afraid of pups who can’t see past their own importance?”

She danced away as Kallon stood as rigid as ice, his back so straight she thought he might tip over if the wind decided to blow the roof off. She laid her hand on the door of the empty sauna, the hinges creaking as she moved to shut it.

Kallon remained staring at where she’d been before, his muscles tense and his wings tucked behind his back.

“You should have just told me where your father is,” Nesta mused, the male stiffening at her voice. “it would have saved you some pride at least.”

Nesta didn’t wait for his response as she continued, in search of that lord who deserved a beating for the way he raised his son.

Gods help the next one.

~

If there was anything that Cassian learned in his time being here, it was that Lord Ovis liked to talk. Not to his family, and certainly not to his comrades, but the sound of his voice must have seemed sweet to his own ears because he never stopped talking.

Cassian sat in the council room with fifteen other Illyrians, and though he knew he was supposed to seem regal and uptight; Cassian didn’t have it in him to pretend he had a stick up his ass for more than five minutes.

That was more Rhys’s style.

He swallowed down his laugh, imagining what the rest of the Inner Circle were doing right then. Probably not as bored as him, when he wanted to take the pencil in front of him and stab himself in the eye. He doubted they’d let him leave even so.

Cassian mind drifted to Nesta and what she was doing at this moment. He wanted to groan at the thought of her as he shifted in his seat, laying his head on his knuckles. She’d been puffed up and rosy during their argument and infinitely too soft when he’d flown her back to the inn, but she’d been calm at least…

Cassian had been a fool. For so many reasons, but...

He did say that. Didn’t he? That he couldn’t understand how her sisters could love her. It was only a few weeks after that that they learned Nesta was drinking more, slumming it with some male or another every night. He’d seen her once. During the day, in the beginning and she’d mostly looked tired. He imagined she wasn’t sleeping, but she looked worse than tired. Like carrying her own bones was too much of a burden and the weight was crushing her.

Cassian wanted to roll down in his seat at the guilt that welled up in his chest. He’d promised her… he promised to protect her. Her family. The people across the wall. Promised her so many things that he never voiced allowed, and not once had he followed through. He’d missed every opportunity.

But she’d promised nothing, and she was beside them all. She’d… protected him.

Cassian blinked away the sting in his eyes.

Just as he was about to sigh in defeat, his thoughts properly stored and tightly locked away, the door flew open. The wood slamming against the walls.

At the commotion, the males stood fast. Lord Ovis maneuvering around the table as his wings brushed back, ready to fight. Cassian remained in his seat, staring at her as the light seemed to wrap around her form.

Nesta didn’t even look at him as she stepped past some of the soldiers, moving through them as if they were stalks of wheat and she had little time for them. She zeroed in on Lord Ovis and he stood tall at her perusal, shock painted on his face as she looked him in the eyes.  

The next words out of her mouth seemed to shock both of them.

“Your wife is having the baby.” Her brows furrowed as she talked, the words rushing out of her. “She went into labor and she’s at the inn.”

At the information, Lord Ovis let out a breath, settling down as he stepped back to his seat. Nesta looked to him when she noticed Lord Ovis beginning to sit, and Cassian didn’t know what to say. She stomped towards the male anyways, fire in her lungs.

“I just said your wife is in labor,” she hissed.

Lord Ovis simply shuffled some papers on his table, muttering to the male next to him to get him some water. Cassian scoffed.

Nesta threw up her hands, “Are all of you this ignorant?”

Cassian could see some of the males shuffle in their seat at the insult, surprise and outrage rolling through the room like thunder. Cassian simply took note of the snow on Nesta’s coat, her face flushed from the cold. He looked to the open door, where the wind chased the snow, roaring out its displeasure.

His gaze hardened at the thought of her running through the storm.  

“She needs you there,” she urged.

Lord Ovis sat back in his seat in lazy arrogance. “That would be improper.”

“Improper my ass! Your wife was standing next to a building in the middle of this storm,” she pointed to the open doorway as some of the other males looked, “she couldn’t even make it up the hill and I helped her there. She asked for you personally, though now I’m wondering why the hell she would when you seem to be good for nothing!”

He watched as he face seemed to turn a darker shade of red, the color rushing down her throat, but Nesta continued, stark, aching mad.

“I’ve been all over this blasted camp for two hours looking for you. And you know what?” She asked. “You’re son is shit by the way. You did awful job raising him.”

Lord Ovis blinked blandly, smacking his lips, and yawning faintly. He then turned to look at him, his eyes cruel as he laughed.

“You should learn to control your female,” He jeered. “A leash would do good.”

Cassian couldn’t even hear Nesta’s next words as the anger reached his ears. In a blink, he was there, standing in front of the lord who could use less teeth and maybe one less tongue. He gripped the male’s leathers in his fists and Cassian made him remember why he was the Night Court General Commander.

He reached out a fist, ready to maim, but he felt a sharp tug in his sternum and Cassian looked towards her.

Nesta’s gaze was sharp and focused as she spoke, her voice soft. “There is something wrong with the child.”

At the words, Lord Ovis whipped towards her, brushing off Cassian.

“What did you do witch?”

Nesta looked towards him and Cassian nodded his head in reassurance, though he didn’t know what he was asking of her.  

“I felt her pain. I don’t—” she stumbled, shaking her head. “I don’t think…”

“You don’t think what?” Lord Ovis cried.

But Nesta didn’t answer him as he pushed past her, leaving the rest of the males in an uproar as their camp leader braced the storm.

Cassian reached for her as Nesta stood staring at the door, her hand resting on her neck.  

She blinked up at him with thick lashes, before he could touch her and he lowered his hand. Her nose was still red from the few hours trying to find them. Cassian wished there were an easier way to contact each other and made a mental note to ask Amren what she thought could do the trick.

He was about to offer to fly her back, but Nesta closed her eyes, her brows furrowing as if she was in pain. This time, he placed a hand on her shoulder, but she clasped her hand atop his, and gripped it tightly. Her words made chills run down his spine.

“I don’t think he’s going to make it.”

Cassian prayed to the mother that she meant Lord Ovis to the inn.  

~

Cassian heard the high-pitched screams just as Nesta flinched. A small movement that no one would have noticed—that he would not have noticed—If it had not been her. Her look made him want to drag her inside, shut all the doors, and block every yell that made it to her ears.

Cassian did none of these things as he looked her over. The skirt of her dress puffed up as Nesta held herself close at the knees from where she sat on the steps to the entrance of that little inn. Her hands tucked into the pockets of her coat. No scarf, he noted. The way she shivered had Cassian resisting the urge to take off his own coat and drape it across her.  

“I’m not going to ask if you’re okay,” He spoke softly, raising his hands in surrender. Always surrender, because he had never been victorious no matter how many battles, he’d won. Cassian could still hear her yells in the back of his mind, and not the ones she spewed just hours before... but of her calling his name. Cassian! Cassian! It echoed. She’d hardly ever said his name then and yet she’d called him, sensing that cauldron’s intent in her gut, in her bones.

Obliterated, he remembered. His comrades had been obliterated, and he had been fine. More than fine. He could still feel that aching sorrow.  

Cassian wondered if Nesta felt it too. Perhaps not the same pain, but she’d wanted to help Ada... kicked and screamed her way through.  

But her next words surprised him, and the space between his brows crinkled in concern.  

“I have nowhere to go,” She blurted out, her eyes blinking slowly as she looked at him. Stray pieces of her hair blew across her face and she swiped it away, tucking it behind her ears until he could see the pointy tip. “I have nowhere to go. I--”

Cassian sat beside her; his wings careful not to brush her form. He could smell the scent of her—lavender soap and crisp winters, fresh air and pine. He watched as she laid her chin in her palm, her knees bouncing quickly as if she were agitated, and maybe she was, because Nesta rarely stumbled on her words.

She didn’t look at him as she continued. Her hand moved to her mouth, her teeth biting down on the nail of her thumb. Cassian watched in awe at the movement. Perhaps without even knowing, she’d shown him another one of her habits and Cassian wrote it down in that seemingly short list of everything he knew about Nesta Archeron.  

“Feyre doesn’t want me there. Your High Lord hates me. I have no prospects or money or a place to say. Amren doesn’t even want to look at me.” Nesta shook her head and Cassian thought he might have seen regret, but it flashed away as soon as it began. “I can’t go back there. So where do I go?”

He opened his mouth to speak, but Nesta jumped up, walking a few paces and then turning back around. Cassian watched the movement with rapt attention.

“I’m back where I started five years.” She whispered, her voice going shrill, her eyes wide and bold enough that he wanted to rush to her and hold her close. A forbidden act that Cassian quickly pushed away. Nesta would never allow his touch. “Starving, and alone in that little cabin.”

“You weren’t alone. You had Elain. Feyre...”  

“What good did that do?” She screeched, lowering her eyes to floor as she shook incessantly. “You know after my mother died; Elain wouldn’t stop crying. Every day she’d cry, and cry and I’d wanted to slap her then. As cruel as that is... Stop crying, I’d wanted to say, you’re not the one dead.”

Nesta clenched her eyes shut, her fists rolling into balls. Her lips curled in a grimace.

“And Feyre... Feyre wouldn’t stop asking questions as young as she was... What can I do? How should we fix this? How can we help father? What can we sell? As if I did not spend so much time asking the same.” Her gaze hardened, and Cassian imagined bricks forming around a small girl. As young as Feyre had been when she’d hunted, maybe younger still. Wall after wall began to be built and Cassian saw Nesta in there, pounding at the bricks as she spoke.

“But you know what was worse?”  

Cassian stayed very still as she zeroed in on him. Her eyes-tinged red.  

“We spent so much time trying to help my father, and he still ruined it all.” Nesta covered her eyes with her palms, and Cassian saw Nesta crawl over him in his memory. The softness of her body covering all of his pain, shielding him from anymore. They’d go together. Not because they deserved a good end, but because they wanted to hold on to something that was good and decent. What had she held onto when she was merely a child? What had she kept?  

“I can’t forgive him for what he did.” She admitted softly, darkness seeping into those bitter blues. And maybe that was the problem in all of this—that they had wanted her to forgive—to forget. But Nesta could not forget and neither could Cassian when all he thought about was his comrades dying and a soft kiss in the middle of a battlefield.

Cassian’s chest felt heavy and he swallowed so she wouldn’t hear how rough his voice had gotten.

“Then don’t,” He replied. Nesta looked up at him, kicking up the snow with her boot as she looked him over, seemingly shocked that he did not berate her or make her see a new point of view. If that’s what she was hoping for, she wasn’t getting it from him.

“Don’t,” Cassian repeated, shaking his head. The conviction rising in his words. “You’re your own person… do whatever you want to do. Forgive your father. Don't forgive him. Be mad. Don’t be mad. Leave to Velaris or stay here with me or… leave to who knows where.”  

“I already told you about the feasibility of leaving.”  

“No, you listed all the reasons it would be hard to do so. You are not in that cabin, starving and alone. You are not alone here, Nesta. And if Velaris is not where you want to be, then I will take you somewhere else. If you want me to go collect things from your father’s house and sell them I will. If you need money, I have that.”

Fuck Rhys and Feyre and the rules. Fuck Elain, too, and himself. Fuck them all, he raged. Fuck them all for making her feel like she had no choices.

Nesta’s shoulders rolled back as she straightened, her arms crossing in defiance. “They’ll never let you help me.”

“I don’t need their permission,” Cassian retorted, suddenly angry at the female in front of him, though he didn’t understand why. He stepped to her slowly, closing his eyes as he breathed in the harsh winter air.

When he blinked, she was in front of him. Her eyes the color of pale skies, bright and filled with caution.

“I want you…” he breathed, swallowing his apprehension, “I want you to find happiness in things. I enjoy you angry, yes, that’s true.”  

She scoffed, but that darkness that had hovered over her these months, that had trailed behind her like some veil covering her golden hair, began to lift and Cassian saw her… Maybe just a small part of her, but a part he wanted to get to know. To memorize.  

"I don’t think you’ll ever be less annoyed with me and I hope you don’t, but I don’t want this... hostility between us anymore. This... mountain we can’t get over.”

“I am not your friend,” she reminded him softly, her lips pursed and pink. He knew what she meant.  

“I’d do it for anyone,” Cassian reminded her.

Nesta raised a brow. “I won’t make my decision now.”

“I didn’t expect you to.”

“But when I do—”

“I’ll be there,” Cassian promised.

I’ll be there always.

Cassian promised.

~

Tagged:  @my-fan-side  @ekaterinakostrova  @anastasia-orlov @lord-douglas-the-third @autumnsletters @soitsgorgeous @sjm-things @courtofjurdan @rogertaylorsfalsettogivesmehives  @queenestarcheron @allilal

~

Well some things had to progress in this fic or nothing would have progressed so Cassian and Nesta have reached an understanding of some sorts. It’s a slow process who knows what will happen next (shrugs)

Unfortunately/Not so unfortunately, I’m stopping for a bit, for a week or two to finish the last part of the Nesta’s Love is Quiet trilogy. I have no idea how that’s going to go, since I abhor endings, but it will be the first fic I’ve ever finished so that’ll be fun!

I hope you liked this chapter, but if not please don’t tell me lol. 

Like, comment, reblog!!!!

Happy Reading!

#nessian #nesta archeron #cassian #nessian fanfiction #acosf #vidalinav #queen of monsters

[the-empress-7]

Something occurred to be about Meghan’s latest press ambush. I don’t know much about Hollywood and PR but I picked up some things from the Tumblr community. Meghan having a background in Hollywood is used to behaving badly and then having a PR and crisis management team to cover up her behavior. That’s why her & Jessica Mulroney’s behaviour had gone on for so long even though people knew about it. NDAs and professional courtesy covered a lot of celebrities’ bad behavior. If there was any leak about their real selves, they would sic their PR on the public to combat the truth. Coming from that background, Meghan was used to this approach and was appalled when she learned that the BRF PR didn’t work that way. That is why she went behind their backs trying to clap back at every single story that she didn’t like. I think eventually she was just behaving badly on purpose to force their hand to cover for her because her behavior reflected negatively on them. Team player indeed. Despite the fact that the royal family did try to respond to certain negative stories, her continuous inappropriate behavior and disrespect for protocol could not be countenanced and apologized for. That is why she hired Sunshine Sachs because now she had people to do her bidding and cover up for her. That was also why she was adamant about having the Sussex Royal Instagram because she could control the narrative about her bad behavior. It’s also the reason why they keep flipping out against certain media publications and will only play ball with those who suit her narrative. She cannot get away from the Hollywood mentality which makes sense given the fact that she grew up in such close proximity to it and chased it for a large part of her adult life. This woman is almost 40 years old and there is no way she is going to change how she operates because she’s simply been doing it for far too long to know or value any other way. I suspect that was one of the main reasons she tried to take Harry and the royal mystique with them to Hollywood because she wanted the royal treatment but with the Hollywood PR machine. Unfortunately the two simply don’t mix. She also has to understand that the internet is forever. It barely takes any lengthy degree of sleuthing to find past statements for behaviors that don’t jive with someone’s present circumstances. The Tig and The Working Actress blog are excellent examples of this phenomenon. While she wasn’t well-known, she put enough of herself out there for people to understand what she’s all about, which is social climbing and whining when she doesn’t get her way. That works in certain the spheres, but it doesn’t translate in the Royal sphere and she hates that. She and Jessica love social media because they can control how people see them, behave badly, and still have people cover for them. She’s exposed now and it is setting her off. My mom often says that the best indicator of future behavior is past behavior and her internet presence pre-BRF tells me that the bad behavior will never stop. We should all brace ourselves for an onslaught because not only will it be shocking to see, but I think it will also be really hard to stomach because she is like a wounded bear right now. It’ll only get worse.

——

Thank you for this submission, it is spot on. To put it in the simplest terms, it is textbook entitlement. It’s no secret that she was spoiled rotten by her father growing up, and that has led to the bratty adult we see today. She has tantrumed and coerced her way through her entire life and probably has zero self-awareness as a result. PS: Your mom’s quote is one of my favorite quotes as well because it’s so damn true! Thank you again. 

[diyunho]

The Joker X Reader - “Ghost Driver”

When The Joker says you’re his, it means you’re essential to him because he needs your services for his own gain; it literally has zero affectionate connotations. Turbo is The King’s Ghost Driver and although she’s a legend, her life is far from perfect.

Part 2

“Where’s all your stuff?!” Frost asks since the apartment is pretty much empty.

“Gave it to Adam,” you sulk. “He wouldn’t sign the divorce papers so I gave in; I don’t even care… I’m glad he’s out of here.”

Jonny gazes at you in silence, a million words rushing through his mind and The Joker’s henchman can’t articulate anything close to what he would like to vociferate besides foolish small talk:

“How are you holding up?”

“Not sure… I don’t even know what the hell happened to us…It used to be so great and then he started making comments about my weight, gossiping with his friends behind my back, then cheated… I couldn’t handle it,” Y/N confesses although Frost is already acquainted with the dreadful story of her crumbled marriage.

“Not what the hell happened to us,” he decides to underline his personal opinion. “I think the question should be what the hell happened to him: you didn’t do anything wrong. And I believe you look perfect,” he mumbles the last sentence.

“What was that?” you search the fridge for his favorite soda.

“Nothing... nothing…”

“Here you go,” you offer the cold Fanta to a distraught companion.

“Thanks, Y/N. Here’s the money for tonight,” he gives you the envelope. “As usually, half now , half after the job is done.”

“OK,” you accept the terms without issues because it’s how The Clown Prince of Crime pays for your services. “Jonny, why is there an extra thousand dollars in here?!”

“Ummm…” the man tries to find a reasonable explanation yet Y/N can’t accept his strategy.

“Should I text Mister Joker and thank him for the bonus?”

“Nope,” he bites on his lip.

“I appreciate it,” you return the extra cash to Frost. ”I’m fine. Really.”

“Well…” he takes the bills and stashes them in his wallet, “… let me know if you need anything, alright?”

“I promise I will, “ you smile. “I swear on my Turbo honor,” the joke makes him smile also.

“Hey Y/N… I was thinking… maybe one of these days, if you feel like it, we could… and it’s entirely up to you, no pressure… maybe you would want to… ”

Frost’s phone keeps ringing and he retrieves from his suit’s pocket, annoyed about the interruption.

“It’s Audra,” he huffs while declining the call.

“Might be important,” you sort of urge him to answer.

“Meh, I doubt it. She will chew my ears off regarding our relationship that ended 3 months ago. I’m not interested,” he strolls towards the exit due to another pressing matter he has to attend. “I have to go, Mister Joker has a meeting soon; I’ll see you later, Y/N.”

“See you,” you wave and lock the door when your cell alerts of an incoming text from The Joker.

Downloading two pictures… Pictures?!

“Oh…my… God…!” you hold your breath when the first image depicts a totally naked King of Gotham reflected in the mirror at his gym and squeal when the second one shows a close up of his mid-section.

“Oh my God!” you burst out laughing as you admire the unexpected missive. “Heeeelllo Mister Joker,” you mutter and actual phrases pop up on your screen.

“I sent these to the wrong number, Y/N. Ignore and erase them!”

“Of course, sir!” you immediately reply with no intention of doing it for the moment.

Why?

The hilarious error shook you up from apathy and it’s worth saving those pics for a bit longer since you can’t remember the last time something got your attention after the messy divorce.

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

11:49 PM

The Joker is the first one to get in the car next to you, firmly clutching to his suitcase full of diamonds freshly stolen from “Diamond Emporium” store on Glissan Avenue. You notice the other goons sneaking to the cars deliberately positioned around nearby streets for tonight’s robbery. How come J doesn’t go with them?

The dilemma is simple:

The green haired menace typically arrives with his regular crew when he plans heists but has Y/N pick him up after the job is done.

“Hi Mister Joker,” you greet your employer.

“Hey,” he acknowledges your presence. “Did you delete the pictures?” The Joker gets straight to the point.

“Yes,” you lie and tell the truth in the same time: you erased the whole body image but kept the close up one for future reference.

“Good. What did you think?” the hasty interrogation prompts a careful chosen response.

“You look very…,” and you pause in order to find the correct term since a tiny mistake could set him off. “… Healthy, Mister Joker.”

“I do,” he huffs quite pleased with your statement.

You wish to add more but Frost and the new hire squeeze in the back seat awaiting orders.

“You’re in luck kid,” Jonny places a box filled with precious gems at his feet. “Your first assignment and you get to meet Turbo.”

The young man opens his mouth in amazement as you move the fingers from your right hand in the air instead of a proper introduction.

“You’re Turbo?! I thought you’re a guy!” Nick blurs out and Frost punches him in the head, displeased with the observation.

“Sounds empty,” you growl while The Clown snorts.

“My Ghost Driver A GUY??!! Ha-ha-ha-ha!” the unnerving, screechy noises make the newbie shrivel up. “Turbo, A GUY!” he continues to amuse himself before giving Nick a psychotic glare.

“I’m…I’m so sorry, I meant no disrespect,” he nervously stutters especially since J called you “his”.

The poor bastard’s oblivious about what the label implies in The Clown’s universe: when The Joker says you’re his, it means you’re essential to him because he needs your services for his own gain; it literally has zero affectionate connotations.

“Where the fuck did you find this buffoon?” you chew on your gum, irritated.

“He’s Richard’s nephew,” Jonny sucks on his teeth.

“Uncle Panda is infinitely smarter,” Y/N barks at the revelation.

“I’m truly sorry,” Nick apologizes again and you cut him off.

“Save it!... … I hear sirens,” you slowly inhale and The King calmly articulates:

“I forgot to mention I accidentally triggered the silent alarm.”

Translation: he did it on purpose.

You snicker at the first lights blinking in the distance, excited to have some fun after stressing so much in the past weeks. The vehicles belonging to the gang scatter in different directions as you step on the gas pedal, accelerating towards the numerous police cars answering to the 10-64 code.

“That’s my girl!” J cracks his neck, already hyped at the adrenaline rush burning his veins: The Ghost Driver is perfect to offer him what he craves and she always delivers.

That’s why Turbo is his.

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

4:37 AM

“Hi…Mister…Mister Joker…” you attempt to talk without slurring.

“It’s Ella,” his girlfriend snarls.

“Why…where is he?” you guzzle down half of glass of wine, adamant in having a chat with your boss.

“Well, after you two had a merry time being chased by cops all over town, he came home and now he’s sorting out the diamonds,” the woman bitterly reports.

“I wanna talk to him,” you sniffle and drink some more alcohol.

“You just saw him. I’m sure it can wait until tomorrow.”

“I’m sure it can’t!” you shout. “I just received important information he’d be i…interested in,” you finally make it through the whole sentence.

Ella stomps in the living room, vexed at your behavior.

“It’s Turbo,” she shoves the phone in his fingers. “The bitch is wasted!”

“What did you call me?!” the appalled Y/N is about to burst when The Joker’s deep voice resonates I her ear.  

“Yeah?”

“Sir,” you correct your bitter tone. “I h-have very important news!”

“I’m listening,” J ignores his woman as she cusses you out.

“I have to tell you in person, sir. Let’s go on a date and I’ll reveal the entire shocking...”

“Huh?!”

“I have crucial information…”

“Quit repeating yourself!” The Joker interrupts. “You’re not making any sense. Go to sleep and we’ll catch up after you sober up.”

“But I wanna go on date Mister Joker,” you gulp the rest of the wine and prepare for a fourth round.

“Why, because I look healthy?” J mocks and Ella sighs, not understanding the odd conversation she’s witnessing. “… …. … Hello?”

A loud thud, then dialing tone at the other end of the line.

“I think she passed out,” The King of Gotham concludes, not particularly worried at the sudden halt of your monologue.

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

3 Days Later

The late meeting is almost done: the buyers already purchased the diamonds J had for sale, among them your ex-husband Adam that has a small crowd gathered next to him; he’s supposedly famous for his crappy attitude enjoyed by jerks sharing the same ludicrous humor.

“You know I’m sensible when it comes to challenges and I couldn’t grasp why she doesn’t want my help in shedding a few pounds. What’s the harm in that?! I love curves but sometimes I don’t, ya’ know?” he winks and the group laughs.

The Joker is arranging money in duffle bags, his concentration diverted by the impromptu comedic performance. What the heck are they yapping about?

Frost is certainly in a foul mood: J can guess his trusted henchman is worked up since the usual chilled Jonny can’t control his anger.

“What’s wrong with being voluptuous, hm?” he addresses Adam and it clicks for The Joker: this is about Y/N.

“Nothing at all,” he smirks and the laughter around the room dies out because not too many dare screwing with Jonny Frost. “I was merely emphasizing that if a woman can’t lose weight, she’s doomed. Y/N lost me, how is she going to get another stud if she…”

“Perhaps she’s not interested in pieces of shit; definitely had her share!” Frost grumbles at the absurd remarks.

The Joker has no clue about what’s going on, yet he won’t deny today’s entertainment is far from boring.

“Give me a break!” Adam scoffs. “Who’d sniff her tail if she refuses to get skinnier? Ooohhh, wait a minute, we might have an admirer,” he arrogantly slides your cell out of his coat. “I was browsing her pictures and what do you know? A gentleman sent Y/N a picture of his junk three days ago. I am deeply sorry, my bad. She does have somebody sniffing her tail. What kind of loser sends images of his dangling goodies to another dude’s wife?!” 

“Ex-wife!” Jonny sneers whilst J’s calculation leads to an easy verdict: you kept one pic.

“Whose junk is this?! Is it yours?” your estranged spouse accuses Frost without any evidence.

“It’s my junk,” The Joker’s serene revelation makes everyone freeze: they have no idea how to react at the puzzling escalation of events.

Is he bluffing?!

“I wasn’t aware I require permission in order to text whatever I desire to whomever I want.”

Awkward silence and Frost approaches Adam, boiling with indignation.

“Why do you have Y/N’s phone?”

Your husband doesn’t have a chance to justify his action: Jonny’s punch throws him to the ground, immediately followed by his unsettling ultimatum.  

“You son of a bitch, what did you do to her?”

Your former husband gets on his elbow ready to attack when The King’s stern inquiry stops his motion:

“WHERE.IS.MY.TURBO?”

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

After 1 hour

Frost lifts you higher in his arms while you keep wheezing, trying to regain control.

“I’m sorry…I attacked you,” the weakened Y/N whispers. “I thought you were Adam...”

After being abducted and left to starve for the last 3 days, you had one clear purpose: to kill the guy that did it. Adam surely crossed the line with his despicable plan of making you lose weight: he creeped in your apartment, kidnapped you and took you to his home where you were chained in the cellar until Jonny found you. The basement was dark and you couldn’t see, that’s why you used whatever strength you had left in order to attack the individual responsible for your misfortune.

Turned out it was actually a rescue party although Frost is now the proud owner of a beautiful bump courtesy of Y/N.

“No problem,” Jonny takes you to his SUV, carefully laying you down in the passenger’s seat. “How’s your head?” he wipes the dried blood on your cheeks since Adam knocked you out unconscious while you were talking to The Joker after the heist.

“I’m OK,” you start crying, mostly mad at yourself for being such an easy prey, yet you didn’t see it coming.

“You know… It’s OK not to be OK,” Frost opens a bottle of water and gives it to you. “I’ll take you home, you can take a shower and I’ll have the doctor come for an emergency evaluation. Are you hungry?”

“I’m so hungry,” tears stream down your face and Jonny has a great proposal.

“I’ll order some food and if you want me to I can stay with you. After you feel better, we could… and it’s entirely up to you, no pressure… maybe you would want to…”

The Joker rolls his eyes, deciding to emerge from the shadows.

“Wow, this is painful to watch. Frost believes he’s still in high school: basically he’s asking you on a date. There, done. No need to beat around the bush. Jesus!” J scolds about a subject he shouldn’t mess with. “I have a heist next week, you better be good to go by then!” he gestures at the confused duo. “If you’ll excuse me, I have my own date to honor. We’re done here, yes?”

“Yes sir,” Jonny replies for both, unwilling to split hairs with The Joker and his obnoxious aberrations. “Here’s your cell,” he returns the item to you and you snatch it, relieved. You seem to have an outburst of energy as you unlock the secured folder.

“Where’s Adam?”

“I don’t know, we had an altercation at the warehouse then he scrammed,” Frost reports, ogling a strange looking Y/N typing on her phone.

“He won’t be able to hide,” you grin and send the attachment to The Joker.

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

“We’ll be late for dinner,” Ella kisses The Clown. “I’m not a 100% positive why we had to waste precious time and come for her,” she pouts and drags him after her towards their vehicle.

J’s phone chimes and he stops in his tracks, not expecting a message from you seconds after the encounter.

“Mister Joker, you were very generous to share pictures with me.

Allow me to do the same.

Your Turbo.”

Imagines downloading and he’s not sure what to do when pics appear one by one: frames taken by the private investigator you hired to follow Adam when you suspected he was cheating. The bastard was diligent, but he was eventually caught in the act three days ago.

Who’s the woman he’s with?

The Joker’s Queen.

“What’s wrong?” she frowns at the visible switch in his temper.

The Clown ruthlessly slams Ella against the hood while her cell also receives a text from Y/N:

“Who’s the bitch now?”

 Also read: MASTERLIST

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