#only if given permission will I snoop

[deityofhearts]

does anyone else have the intense desire to like sift through other peoples belongings when you’re in their house? obviously I never act upon these desires unless given express permission but something about a new environment makes me want to explore and look through things

[prickly-paprikash]

Pushing aside the fact that I am, quite possibly, a Kendrick fan—disregarding my biases, I think Drake needs to stop. Push Ups was a good diss. Surface level, vapid, but it possessed that mean, petty spirit that carries a diss track all the way. Even bringing up accusations that are, realistically speaking, unlikely still works because a diss is supposed to show just how much you hate a person and how cleverly you can bring it.

Taylor Made was weird. I get that it was a strategy. Drop the main diss first and then drop this one to really prod at Kendrick. Using Pac and Snoop AI voices sucks though. Distilling Kendrick as Taylor's underling also doesn't work because Kendrick only collaborated with her once (twice when they remade Bad Blood) and that's it. Meanwhile Drake is out here always looking for new, up and coming artists to pounce on their trends or cling to established artists. Then it got taken down, because of course it would have been. You used 2Pac's voice. Did you really think his estate, his family, wouldn't do anything?

So he bought Pac's ring and used his voice without permission. More and more we see just how much of a vulture Drake is.

And then Euphoria drops.

Your first diss was met with solid reactions. Your second got taken down. Kendrick drops on a random hot Tuesday, and in a matter of hours surpasses your numbers that took weeks to accumulate. Kendrick did that. Euphoria was also harsh, clever, and sounded so good that people kept replaying it over and over again. Once more, Kendrick schools you.

A few insiders then say that Drake will drop that night. Right after. But he then allegedly gets cold feet. A few hours later from when Drake was supposedly ready to drop but backs out, Kendrick drops 6:16 in LA.

In your previous disses, you begged Kendrick to drop something with quintuple entendres. Euphoria did that. But he took it a step further by naming his second diss 6:16 in LA.

June 16: Father's day. Referencing the fact that Drake has been proven to be a deadbeat father.

June 16, 1971: Tupac's Birthday. Kendrick idolizes him. Drake steals from him.

June 16, 2019: First episode of Euphoria drops. A show Drake is listed as a producer on. A show about underage girls entering a life of sex, substance abuse, and more. Things that Drake has been accused of repeatedly in the past.

June 16, 2011: in June 2, 2011, Kendrick posted on his twitter that there will be a concert at Toronto on 6/16. Allegedly this is where Drake and Kendrick first met.

6:16 AM: The time of release for this track.

6:16: Multiple possible Bible verses, given Kendrick's Christian background.

Other claims felt like reaches though, so I'll stick to that.

The final two lines of 6:16 also reference the Michael Jackson, R. Kelly, and their song "You Are Not Alone". Drake, who has always claimed he is Michael Jackson or at the very least his equal/successor, is now tied to him in a way he does not want. Because we know all of the dirt that came out after MJ's death. We all know what R. Kelly was sent to prison for. And we all know what Drake has been accused of multiple times.

Kendrick also alludes to the fact that you have a leak in your circle, Drake.

So Drake drops Family Matters. A scathing 7 minute song that makes fun of the GKMC van. Saying that Kendrick's daughter isn't his. Saying that his wife cheats on him with security. Saying that he beats his wife.

Now, these are enormous accusations levied. But Kendrick has responded before, years ago, that the DV accusations were false. He has also always been open about his faults. Adultery. Sex addiction. Insecurity. God complex. Kendrick, for better or worse, has always laid out nearly every aspect of his younger life on his songs. This also helped by the fact that in both Euphoria and 6:16, Kendrick says that Drake has spent millions on finding dirt on him but came up with nothing. Again, these accusations can still be proven true and if so, Kendrick needs to be held accountable for them.

But if not? Then Drake just adds another to the pile of "He's a liar and a master manipulator."

Drake also posts a Parody on his Insta that gains little to no attention because 30 minutes after dropping Family Matters and supposedly going on his victory lap, Kendrick drops meet the grahams.

Another thing. 6:16's cover was a glove. That meant nothing to us, the audience. meet the grahams makes it make sense by zooming out of the glove and showing off a shirt and drugs that Drake supposedly uses. Drake has not had any receipts with his accusations against Kendrick. Kendrick puts Drake's supposed prescription, his full name, on a bottle of Ozempic. Kendrick, for now, seems to make good on his threat. OvO, Drake's company, is full of leaks. And they're leaking it straight to Kendrick Lamar.

Nearly 24 hours later, Kendrick drops Not Like Us.

Euphoria was a general character dissection and assassination of Drake: Insecure about his identity as a biracial man. Culture Vulture. Blaccent user. Code switcher. Fake abs. Womanizer. Misogynist. Using black features just to feel black enough. A deadbeat dad that knows nothing of raising a child. And even revokes Drake's ability to use the N-Word (I have no stake in that I am Asian so I will keep my brown mouth shut for that).

6:16 in LA was an ominous threat that slowly reveals that Kendrick has insider information on Drake. That he is ready to leak so much more should Drake continue.

meet the grahams is a brutal open letter to Drake, his parents, and even to Adonis, Drake's son. Saying that Kendrick could be a better mentor to Adonis. Saying that Drake abandoned you and that's not your fault. Don't be like your father—whatever anyone says, for better or worse, you are a black man and don't code switch just to make yourself feel better. He says that Drake failed his mother for what he did to women. Saying that Drake's father is the cause of his gambling issues. Drake is a body shamer. Leaving the mother of his children to rot. And of course, the reveal that Drake has a secret daughter, the same way Pusha T revealed Drake has a son. Adonis.

And of course, now. Not Like Us. Where Kendrick goes all in on one topic that he has alluded to in every diss track before. Drake is a groomer. A pedophile.

I am sick. I should not be tuning into this beef. But my fever can go ahead and end me, I need to know how this ends.

[fixfoxnox]

I Know You Didn't Take Requests But Just Curiosity... What Would Happen If Makarov Was Obsessed With A Nervous Russian Woman?

Kissing you (with your permission) for asking about Makarov I've been wanting to write with him so much since the newest trailer dropped AHHHH also I'm gonna take this as an x reader Makarov headcanon request if thats alright

Makarov Obsessed with Nervous Russian Fem! Reader

Warnings: Dub-con, loosely implied non-con, kidnapping, stalking, obsession, knife kink and blood kink, jealousy, murder

Makarov and reader meet before his time as an ultranationalist, when he's still at least a little good.

He's Spetsnaz and you're just a secretary trying to stay under the radar and make a living for yourself. Being around hungry men, men constantly away from their respective families or partners, never quite allows you to settle into peace.

You're one of the only women working on the base, and the men laugh when you jump at their sudden arrivals or hands on your shoulder. You don't find it funny, but they assure you that you have no reason to be nervous. You don't believe them, you're nervous all the time in a place like that.

There's one man who doesn't laugh at you. He's a captain and any time he makes you jump, he apologizes. He's kind and charming and, honestly, the only man on base you're able to find any sort of comfort in.

Makarov isn't sure what it is that starts his obsession with you. Perhaps its the amusement he feels when you stutter over yourself as you speak. Maybe its just that he enjoys having someone kind around. Maybe he just latched on to someone and you happened to be the unlucky victim.

Either way, it didn't matter. After a week of knowing you, Makarov is enamored. He's interested.

When Makarov is interested it means research. Research means watching you even when you think you're alone. Sneaking into your home or desk and snooping to understand more about you. He watches and learns all of your little quirks, everything that makes you tick. And Makarov is good at his job, so it's not surprising that you never realize.

Then the papers are sent. Makarov is discharged and the rumor floating around base is that it was an order by the UN after his cruel and inhumane treatment during war.

You don't believe its true, you don't believe Makarov is capable. Still, you're only a woman on a base surrounded by men, you can't voice your thoughts to anyone.

To you, Makarov dissapears. In reality, he's still around.

He joins the ultranationalists and stops trying to hide who he really is. With them, he's appreciated. His bloodlust is praised. He thrives under the guiding hand of Imran Zhakaev.

As he thrives, he doesn't forget you. He watches from the shadows, keeping tabs on your every move as he works himself up the totem pole of Ultranationalists. He keeps you as close as he can without you ever knowing.

And, in the shadows, he pushes and prods reader exactly how he wants her. He keeps men away from you, many of them never showing for plans you made. He encourages activities and learning about certain topics with hidden items for you to find.

And, when Makarov is made Zhakaev's second (only behind his son) and given more control and power, he takes no time in claiming his obsession.

He wouldn't be gentle about it. You'd been out of his grasp for far too long and now he had you here? Well the idea of bruises or bleeding skin only lit him up with excitement.

Now he isn't violent when he kidnaps you. Only disciplinary, as he says. You struggle and he corrects that action. And, as he settles you in to the base he's been staying at, you understand this is your new future.

Makarov is obsessed with you, he wants to own you, he wants every piece of you to be his. And that desire involves you giving yourself to him, giving in to his own wicked desires and playing along.

Maybe you resist at first, but at the end of the day you're a nervous person and you can do nothing but cower behind him. You're in deep, a madman is obsessed with you, and you're trapped behind enemy lines. What choice do you have but to give in and become Makarov's play thing.

Now, once you do give in, Makarov treats you like a queen. You are his after all, and what belongs to him gets taken care of.

I think Makarov is the type to shower his partner in gifts. Jewelry and silk. Anything that he would be able to physically see on his partner like a mark of his ownership over them.

He's an overprotective and jealous man. God help any ultranationalist who tries to flirt with you or insult you. After Makarov is done dealing with them in the only way he knows how, his ire often falls to you.

He takes his anger out in the bedroom in those moments. Making you beg and declare his ownership over you repeatedly.

Now, this doesn't define your more intimate moments with him. As much as Makarov loves having control, he's more than willing to let you take over and do what you will to him until he orders you to stop. He likes to let his inhibitions go under your touch.

Makarov likes to play domesticity. He likes it when you make him breakfast and see him off for the day with a kiss to his lips. He likes to have you waiting in the room for him, ready to cater to his needs. He likes playing house, pretending to be the perfect husband of a normal family.

He doesn't succeed most of the time. Meetings upon meetings often bleed into the sanctuary he wants with you and, more often then not, you find Makarov entering the room speaking in a quiet and clipped voice with other men, future plans for the Ultranationalists being discussed between them.

And finally, I think Makarov enjoys showing you off, to an extent. He's obsessed with you and he has you, of course he wants everyone to know it. Of course he wants to show you off.

But, at the same time, Makarov hates the ideas of others looking at you, of anyone else even possibly thinking that they could hold you and have you like he did

This often results in meetings or casual sit downs where you're pulled onto his lap or tucked against his side. You keep your eyes down and Makarov watches like a shark, ready to attack anyone who would so much as look at you.

Also knives in the bedroom and you should probably get used to blood, because you'll be helping clean it off of him most days, whether that's running him a bath and scrubbing it from his skin, or joining him in a shower for a much more intimate approach to ridding him of the blood.

[edutainer2022]

I keep amusing myself with the idea IR, the Tracies and their typical Tuesday shenanigans probably land A LOT on the (quite exasperated) Counterterrorism and/or Special Ops Division plate. A wider context can be found in PERSON OF INTEREST and a reference to that one background headcanon could be traced to the UNREQUITED-verse.

PERSON OF INTEREST TOO

"Whoa! You okay down there?!"

"Caramba! Yes! Just act normal! Pretend you're giving me directions."

That came out as a hissed whisper from behind the bench in Central Park, where the older of two women ducked to pretend retying the running shoes. The hastily pulled up hood added to the camouflage.

"Tell me when he passes by!"

"Alright."

The girl on the bench shrugged and tracked a tall figure in jogging gear, that just turned a corner at a distance. The man was balancing a cardboard stack of four take away coffee cups and a paper bag of baked goods from a world renowned place in Manhattan and still maintaining a running pace without a tilt in balance. When he was safely out of earshot, her counterpart unfolded a lithe form from behind the bench and watched the man disappear over another bend of the path.

"You should have told me he was in town already! I wouldn't have showed up myself for the briefing!"

"The World Expo starts only Saturday. I didn't think it was relevant."

"It IS! Scott Tracy is a stickler for routine. That's his Route 2 for running - the longer one. It's good for clearing the head and ditching the security detail. Which is just sweet, given there's a bomb threat!"

Her younger colleague followed the hushed, yet agitated muttering with increasing confusion.

"I thought the threat referenced the Expo!"

"It DID! And now we have two more high profile potential targets to cover. Coffee and bagles means brothers. Multiple."

"He had four cups."

"Two're for the Artist. But you're right - the Blond Fish doesn't drink caffeine. So there could be three more potential targets to cover. We'll need more feet on the ground!"

"There's the fifth brother!"

"Yeah, but the kid will likely be with the household security detail at all times. Unlike Scott! I can't leave that to chance! And we can't tip them off - we don't know where the leak leads, yet."

"You don't trust their head of security?"

"I generally don't trust international terrorists and their immediate family members. Not with Scott's life, anyway. How're things on your end, in Tracy Industries?"

"So far - nothing."

The girl on the bench adjusted the glasses and rubbed her hands against the morning chill.

"I'm toiling in the trenches with the interns. Which is fun, but is getting old. Everyone's hyped for the Expo and for sighting the CEO Dreamboat. There's no trace of suspicious activity or breaches in data. Well, except for Eos."

"Does the bot snoop around often?"

"She's an AI and no. She pops in here and there, but mostly to check in on the CEO or to tweak his schedule. She's not a part of any ongoing workflows at TI, from what I can see."

"Good! At least they're smart enough not to expose themselves to integrity lawsuits from competitors. Keep an eye on her, though!"

"You don't trust Eos either?"

"We have no record of her between escaping containment on our servers and resurfacing at Five. In the meantime she attempted an act of mass terrorism twice. Nearly successfully. We don't know what code may still be dormant. Neither do the Tracies."

"You think the Hood could have trained her neural network and set her loose?"

"The Hood. Or worse. The crowd whose chatter on the planned bombing we picked up make the Hood look like a cartoon villian!"

"I'll update the tracking protocol! Permission to speak freely, Captain?"

That earned her a quizzical arch of a dark brow.

"Permission granted."

"Why didn't you and Scott Tracy... I mean... you obviously care and worry about him! And you were engaged... it's in his GDF file, sorry! I looked the classified portion up before this undercover gig! What I mean to ask, with all due respect... He's Thunderbird One! How does one even unlove Scott Tracy?! Apologies if I overstepped..."

"You don't."

"Pardon?"

"The answer is "You don't. Ever unlove Scott Tracy." But sometimes the best thing you can do is walk away and do your job. We've got lives to protect, Dr. Simpson. Dismissed!"

The taller woman adjusted a well-worn oversized Yale hoodie and resumed jogging, leaving the silence hanging viscous in the morning mist.

[penguinlife]

Everyone has the right to withdraw their consent at any time.

It seems that people don't get that Luke and Nicola are human beings. They don't owe us anything. If they don't consent to something, we have no right to it. That includes AI images, being stalked and photographed, and filmed in public. Just because they are actors doesn't mean we get full access 24/7. They have given consent for making lovely edits of either Polin or Lukola. They have given us not only permission but also encourages us to support them as two people who love each other and care for each others well-being. It is very clear that they don't want attention on their personal lives. Either with them as a couple or with other people. Yes, Antonia wants the attention, seeks it out, and even lies to get it. Similarly, Jake also has seeked it out. I will die on the hill that they or their camps are behind papgate/streetstalker. Just too many coincidences to make it random.

It is not ok to snoop on family and friends' sm pages. When someone with 500 followers posts something, it is meant for those 500 people. You don't get to widen the net, just because you can. Taking screenshots and posting it on X or TT is bad behaviour. Because it is SM and public is just a justification of that bad behaviour. Morally, it is wrong. It says more about your own scruples than what it says about the initial poster.

Lets just give them some space. If we find out they are dating (or not for the creeps), what does it matter if it happens today, a week from now or 5 years from now. Calm the F down. We get you are desperate.

[joe9cool]

Collide-Justin Herbert-40 The End

A/N: This is fanfiction, I do not know or own the Chargers. Also you do not have my permission to post my stories. 

June 29th, 2023

Sara woke up to a cold, empty bed. Well, not really empty. Eugene was right above her head, while Nova liked to be at her feet. She looked over at the time 7:30am. She just had just got in a a couple nights ago from filming in North Carolina, as much as she loved the show and her castmates, it was exhausting filming overnights and taking three hours for one scene, only for the writers to tweak something.

She had a few days off, then another week of filming, and then two weeks for pre press for the film. Her phone was already loaded with social media shoutouts and texts, all wishing her a happy 27th Birthday. She smiled as she looked at all of the funny birthday tributes that her friends from Pittsburgh and LA posted. Sara's heart melted as she got a long written message from Holly saying how glad she was to have her in Justin's life.

Speaking of him, he was probably at the training center getting his therapy in. He told her he wanted to take her to dinner but she kept refusing, as she got older she didn't care about the fancy parties or the lavish gifts, she just wanted a cozy night in with the man she loved.

Sara laid there for a few more minutes before her mini tigers let out their cries for food. Her stomach was sending out the signal as well, so she got up and padded to the kitchen. When she walked into the open room she didn't expect to see a bunch of roses and balloons, with big silver balloons in the number 27. She looked around in shock. On the counter, there were three wrapped boxes, with a plate of chocolate chip pancakes. Approaching the counter, she saw the note

Happy Birthday my love! I'll see you in a few hours!

-Justin.

She smiled, before smelling the pink roses. Looking at the cats she smiled. "Your father is the sweetest." They mowed as to say 'yeah but our breakfast'

She scratched their heads. "Okay I'll feed you guys first then I'll open the gifts." She got out all of their raw ingredients that she picked up from Erewhon. (she spent a fortune and Justin made fun of her) While they were chowing down their bowls of food she opened the gifts. The first was an all inclusive spa package, the next was a Burberry purse that she had bookmarked on her laptop. She laughed, she knew he was snooping. Then there was the brand new espresso machine that was set up. Sara squealed, Justin wasn't much of a coffee drinker, but hopefully she could make some drinks he would like.

The next was one of sentimental value, it was a book that contained all of their photos together. They were some goofy ones, ones that Holly took of them in the hottub from their quick trip to Eugene last month. There were two of them caught by photographers. One of them leaving the sushi restaurant and another one of them walking the cats around her place. Sara laughed at that one. Then there were the photos of them at Bella's birthday party at Jerry's. She made a note to go back there again.

The last pages had her tearing up. It was a professional photos of them at Joe's wedding. One of them was a group shot of them standing with others. Next one was a candid of them talking at the bar, she didn't even know there were photos of that.

There was a note written in Justin’s neat handwriting that she envied.

July 16th 2022

I laid eyes on you for the first time

I'll never forget that night.

The very last page

27 things I love about you.

Your love for animals (particularly our cats)

Your passion for what's right.

How you know what and when to say the right things

The love you have for your friends and family

You never give up

Your emotional strength

It kept going, some were sweet, some were funny, and some were dirty and referred to her skills in the bedroom. Overall it was the sweetest gift any partner had given her and topped all of the other gifts.

She was finishing her breakfast and rereading Justin's letter. She asked Heidi to take care of social media on her bday. This way it was stress free for her.

AnnSophie and Samira walked in, leaving Sara confused. "Not that I'm not glad to see you guys. But how did you get in?"

"Well first of all, happy birthday, second Justin said we could kidnap you for the full spa day thing." AnnSophie spoke as she pet Nova. "I'm not going to say no to a spa."

Samira laughed. "Also we got to get you ready for tonight's-" Annie cut in. "For dinner, Justin wanted to take you somewhere nice."

Sara shrugged, "I mean I'd be happy ordering Indian and having a movie night with the cats but." She put the dishes in the sink. "Where's Lexi?"

"Joseph is watching her." Both her and Samira looked at AnnSophie. "What?"

"Wasn't aware you trusted Joey Like that." Sara shook her head. "He's great with her for your information. It's nice to have a friend. Now excuse me, I have to go to the bathroom." AnnSophie walked, more like limping to the bathroom, and the other girls looked at each other. Once they heard the door closed they began giggling.

"Yeah he's a friend alright."

"Looking a little too relaxed"

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

"That is the sweetest thing!" The girls cooed over Sara's telling of the birthday photo album Justin gave her. She had messaged him saying thank you. He hadn't responded, but she didn't expect him to.

They were having lunch at her favorite spot in the center of Calabasas after the spa. A few paps spotted them and began taking pictures, wishing her a happy birthday, and asking about her plans later.

While she was getting her pedicure she made a call to the poverty stricken areas of Pittsburgh and Los Angeles. Each grocery store she donated $27,000 to cover low income shoppers groceries. She didn't want any fuss or announcement, but of course the company put out a massive thank you that got to the public. Sara didn't want to make a massive deal out of it.

She had responded to friends and family and thought it was weird that her sisters hadn't called her. It was a usual tradition that she had gotten calls from everyone. Including Aunt Willa, well that wouldn't happen since the order of protection was put in place.

As they enjoyed their lunch, Sara got another call from Bella who she put on speaker. "Hey babes."

"Happy Birthday baby!" Her friend sang and Sara laughed. "What are you doing on this fine day?"

"I'm having lunch with Annie and Samira right now?"

"At the hotspot?" Sara was confused. "Am I that predictable?" She felt a presence behind her and assumed it was a waiter. "I'm right behind you." She whipped her head around to see Bella on her phone.

"Bitch! Everyone squealed. Causing the other people to look. She wrapped the supermodel in a tight hug. "What are you doing here?"

"I've missed the last one, I'm not missing this one." Bella exchanged hugs with the other girls and sat down.

This was already shaping up to be the best birthday

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

"Sara.. god. . Please." Justin whimpered as she kept her pace on top of him.

He was not even home for ten minutes before his girlfriend was on him practically jumping him. "Thank you so much!" She spoke between kisses. "I am missing one thing."

He furrowed his eyebrows "what?"

"Birthday sex, birthday sex." She sang as her hands went to his shorts. He laughed. "Babe, I got to shower, I came straight from practice."

"Well we will just shower together then." Immediately stepping out of her summer dress and sandals. "We sat outside and it's hot." That was one of the downsides of her birthday being June. It was always going to be a scorcher no matter where she was. Maybe they should go to Iceland next year.

Once their clothes were off, Justin carried her into the bathroom. The water was cooler than what she was used to, but she knew her and Justin were going to be busy.

"You know it's your birthday right?" He breathed as she kissed down his stomach and got to her knees. She gripped his erection and began placing kisses on it to which Justin had an immediate reaction. "It's my birthday, and I want to suck your dick. I want your cum on my face. Will you give me that for my birthday?"

Justin moaned as she took him back into her mouth. "I can't say no to the birthday girl can I?" He fell back against the shower wall as Sara worked her magic with her mouth. He put his hands on the sides of her face and guided her, gagging when he reached the back of her throat. "Sara." He moaned as he reached go grab and handful of her breast. "I'm gonna cum." Quickly, she pulled off and pumped him until he finished all over her face.

Once they finished their shower Justin thought that would be the end of it until after his final surprise. However he didn't get a chance to dry off before she was on him riding him.

"Oh Justin!" She squealed as he began thrusting upwards. As much as he was enjoying the amazing view they had to get ready for their dinner plans. Finally she reached her climax and dragged him along. Sara collapsed on top of him and they had a few minutes to catch their breath before he made them get up and get ready. "It's my birthday and I want to stay in." She pouted. Justin laughed. "I promise I'll make it worth it."  She put her mascara tube on the counter and walked up to him hugging him. "You have already done enough today." He bent down and kissed her, getting the sticky lip gloss on his lips. "You deserve it."

They managed to make it to their reservation on time. Learning from the last time they went to dinner, Justin reserved a private room. Justin made Sara enter the room first.

"SURPRISE!!" She was Startled when she turned the lights on and saw the faces of friends and family. There were her parents, her sisters, nieces and nephew's, including her brand new niece Ameilia.  Mark and Holly were there as well as their kids and family. Plus she saw her hometown friends. She turned around and lightly smacked Justin. "You planned this?" She said in disbelief. He nodded. She turned around and was met with the arms of all fifty guests. Even some of the Chargers were there. Joey was holding Lexi, looking like a natural family man next to AnnSophie. Sara's eyebrows raised at that.

As she mingled, Justin was never too far away from her. If she moved too far away he would find her. When he was next to her he had to touch her. Whether it was his arm around her or holding her hand as she led him to the food table.

He got a little uncomfortable as people congratulated him on his new contract. It guaranteed him and Sara to be in Los Angeles for at least five years. It was one of the things they discussed as a couple.

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

"Justin, this is your contract. Not mine." She laid in her trailer. It was late, but Justin had called her, updating her on the offer the Chargers gave him and his agent. It was five years and it would put him at one of the highest paid quarterbacks. Hell, he'd be making more money than her.

"And I've told you, this contract affects the both of us." He didn't want to say it over the phone, but his future plans involved her. Heck, when he and his agent sat down at the table with Tom and Dean he called Sara his future wife, raising eyebrows.

"Justin, it's sorta a no Brainer. Our careers are here, you love it here, your family is close."

"What about you? Wouldn't you like to be closer to your family? I could take a short deal-"

"Justin Patrick. Stop it. I love it here, and you do what's best for you."

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

"Happy Birthday to you! Happy Birthday to you! Happy Birthday Dear Sara! Happy Birthday to you!" The crowd sang and Sara blew out the 2 and 7 candle on the green cake Justin was holding. Once she blew it out, she pulled Justin down for a quick kiss. Friends who videoed it posted it on social media, which circled all around social media.

Once the cake was cut  and served, desserts were eaten, photos were posted and an impromptu dance party went down, the party dwindled down to just Justin and Sara and  their immediate family. They watched as the parents were talking. "I was nervous they weren't going to get along." Justin admitted as they gathered all of the leftover food and gifts. (Justin told them to donate to charity in lieu of a gift.)

Sara laughed. "I bet my dad's setting a time for golf tomorrow." He laughed and truth be told she did worry about that a bit. She was glad when the Herbert brothers were joking and laughing with her sisters. She felt herself get misty eyed as she thought of Justin putting this together. "Baby what's wrong?" Justin looked at her with concern. She shook her head. "Nothings wrong. Everything is perfect."

And for the first time, it truly was. The whole night she was back and forth wrestling with her mind. It was something she should have done earlier. Justin was right, and with this party, all that he's done for her. This move seemed right, and natural.

"Justin?" He looked up from his task. "Yes?"

"Let's move in together."

She had never seen him smile so big.

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

"Didn't expect to see you here." Joe laughed as he greeted Justin. He had just gotten out of video and workout, and he decided to bring Sara food while she was on set filming.

He always wondered what a professional set would be like. Granted, he filmed commercials, but this was an actual Hollywood set.

He hugged Joe. "Hey man, I thought I would surprise Sara. Sorry you got to spend your first anniversary on set."

Joe shrugged. "It's okay. Alicia is in Montana filming, so we will just celebrate next week. Come on, Sara is just finishing up a scene." He led Justin past the trailers and behind the director, where everyone else was watching. The scene took Justin by surprise.

Sara was laying in a puddle of red, which was definitely fake blood. She had a fake gunshot in her side, and she was gasping for breath. Then she coughed, and phony blood came spilling out of her mouth.

It looked so real, and if Justin didn't know any better it would have freaked him out. In the distance, someone he didn't recognize came running up to Sara's character. "I got you, I'm gonna call 911."

"CUT!" the director yelled, and Sara was helped up by the extra. They spoke for a few minutes, then walked over to the director. She smiled as she spotted Justin. Once everyone was done and they called break she went over to him. "Hi baby, I'd hug you but."

He laughed. "It's okay I get it." She nodded. "Come on, I got an hour before I got to be in hair and makeup for the next scene. He followed her to her trailer and went inside. It was a decent size, it had Sara's decorating all over it. It made him wonder how she would decorate his… well their house. "The movers came today, got most of the stuff." The main things, like her piano were coming, plus her music collection and the painting that Ben made for her were there. Most of her clothes were in his closet.

They had had a little argument about space, and Justin brought up maybe buying a house together. "I think we should look at some houses." He told her as he got out their lunch he picked up. Sara sighed. "I know, I love your house though."

"So I do, but we have to think long term." Sara raised her eyebrow and Justin laughed. "Come on, don't act like you haven't thought of the future." She got up from her vanity and straddled him on his chair. "I have, but I'm curious. What does the future look like for you Mr. Herbert?"

He smiled. "Well it would involve a bigger house, with some kids, and a dog."

"How many kids?" He shrugged. "I would like three. But it's up to you."

With a serious face she spoke. "I want as many kids as God blesses me with." His eyes widened. "Uh.."  She burst out laughing. "Jeez Justin, do you not hear my commentary watching those old Duggar shows?"

"I mean yeah, but still." She giggled. "I always said three or four like my own family. But who knows? I think three is a good number."

He smiled. "Three sounds good."

She got off his lap to eat as the time was going by fast. "I can call my realtor and we can start looking. Personally I'd like to stay in Irvine." She nodded. "I like it there too. I think I'll sell my house."

Justin's eyes widened in surprise. That was her first home she purchased. It was important to her. "Are you sure?"

She nodded. "Yes, I mean it does hold sentimental value. But it is small, and I'm ready to move on."

"Maybe I should keep my house?" Justin wondered out loud. She laughed. "I mean we don't have to decide anything yet. Looking for a house takes time."

They were interrupted by a knock at the trailer, and the door opened to see Sara's costar Jesse Lee Soffer come in police gear. "They are getting ready for the next scene." He looked at Justin and stuck his hand. "Hello, I'm Jesse." As she shook the older man's hand. Sara cut in. "He is the new guy on set. He actually is my love interest."

"Oh really?" Sara nodded, not paying attention to Justin's body demeanor. "Yeah he plays the detective on my case."

"So what exactly happened in that scene with you on the ground?" She laughed. "Oh so in that scene, I get robbed and when I try to chase the guy down, I get shot."

Jesse cut in. "I'm in the next scene with her and the main cast members. Speaking of, they want you to change into the next outfit." She nodded. "I have the hospital gown."

He nodded and left the trailer. Justin turned towards Sara. "Is this the guy you have sex scenes with?" She nodded."Just a few. Nothing too serious. We have an intimacy coordinator for that." He nodded and she laughed. "Are you jealous?"

"I mean a little." He admitted. "I know it's silly."

"Your feelings are validated. I promise, I've never caught feelings for any of my co stars. Sex scenes are uncomfortable to  know? Forty people are watching you and the director is all in your face saying you moved your head the wrong way." He laughed. "That is awkward."

She smiled. "Don't worry, I only want your dick." He laughed, then leaned closer to her. "Want to get some tonight?"

"I won't be home til the next day." He groaned and she laughed. "Sorry, we got one more late night scene and we are good for the week." She kissed him. "But I still have time, and we have this bed behind you." He turned around, not realizing there was in fact a bed in her trailer. He raised his eyebrow. "Oh?"

Once again, she straddled him. "I mean…. I've been really stressed." She began kissing his neck.

"Babe, as much as I am always down to have sex with you. I don't want prop blood on me." She looked down and huffed. "Right." They both began laughing as she got up.

"I have to go. I got therapy." He got up and gave Sara one last kiss. "I'll see you tomorrow night. I'll make sure the movers have the rest of the things."

She nodded. "Don't  forget to drop off the boxes in the corner. Those are all that I'm donating." He nodded. It was decided that Sara would donate all the stuff that Justin already had like utensils, plates, appliances. Things like that. She decided to donate it to the local shelters.

"Oh I can't wait to sleep in our bed." She moaned. Justin smiled, he loved the way it sounded. —-------------------------------------------------------------------

"This one has been on the market for about sixty days. It has six bedrooms and five and a half baths." Justin’s realtor, Seth looked down at his clipboard as Justin and Sara walked around what was supposed to be the living room. The house was gorgeous, but the downside was that there was no swimming pool.

As of right now, they were only looking. Justin was due to start training camp in a few weeks and Sara was wrapping up filming after zipping around the world promoting Oppenheimer and would be doing it again in a few months for Dune 2. It was probably the worst time to buy a house. But Justin and Sara's relationship was anything but typical.

The news broke that they were living together as soon as Sara listed her home for sale. In a surprising turn of events, AnnSophie decided to purchase it and turn it into a summer vacation home for her and Lexi when she was in Los Angeles filming. While it was emotional for Sara's, at least she could still come and see it whenever she liked, and she trusted the new owner to take care of her first big girl purchase.

The next step was to take Justin's house off of most public records. Her team took care of that, and for the most part there was no bothersome from neighbors or the community. Justin and Sara did have to deal with the occasional cameras when they were out and about together, but it didn't happen as often as Justin thought it would.

The start of living together was a little rocky at first. Sara was aware that Justin was neat and organized, but it was a different scenario living with him. He side eyed her for the littlest things. "Why don't you organize your products by your routine?" "Don't put food just anywhere, there is a system."

It was an adjustment, but it worked for them. Sara had him on a skincare routine. (Yes, that included sunscreen) and Justin had her eating healthy. He indulged in wine and some sweets. They both loved ice cream and made milkshakes. Sara worked out with Justin in his basement gym.

The results showed too, and people brought up her being on Ozempic to which Sara shut down when she had her interview with 'Elle' magazine.

"My boyfriend is an athlete, so I've joined him in the gym and changed my diet and I'm more consistent and it obviously shows. I always try to be open and honest with my fans, I promise I'm not taking anything for weight loss"

Any talk of the meds went out the window when the article hit stands. People were surprised that she brought up Justin, even though she didn't bring him up by name it was common knowledge who she was referring to.

The real test was them making an appearance together at Taylor Swift's closing show her Eras tour, there was also Justin's invitational. They discussed going together and being seen out in public and while they would never walk a red carpet together, they could be spotted out and about at high profile events

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

Sara was talking with Holly, Carly, and Ashley as they waited for Justin to make his thank you speech. As he and his college buddies were golfing with teammates and pros she was helping out Holly making sure everything went off without a hitch.

It was important to her that she stayed out of the shine. It was about charity, and the kids that were in attendance.

Some people did speak with her, and their teens were big fans. She got to meet Justin's cousins, and they were so nice. One just had a baby, who had no issues passing him for her to hold and snuggle while the guys were talking

She noticed Justin staring at her.

Little did she know he was going crazy.

"Don't you get any ideas, Mitch told him as she caught his younger brother looking at his girlfriend kissing the baby. "Isabelle is already losing her mind. Had to remind her we needed to complete residency first."

Justin laughed. "No, I'm not thinking anything right now." That was a lie.

Mitch knew better. "But you know she's the one?"

Justin's smile said it all. —------------------------------------------------------------ "Oh darling, this dress would look gorgeous on you! And it's your color!" Pierpaolo Piccioli, the creative director of Valentino, was over their house with his team and racks of dresses and clothes. Sara had just signed on to be the face of the high end luxury brand, and in no time, Piccioli's team was over with Law with ready to wear pieces and drawings of custom designed handbags, couture items for Sara.

Justin was at meetings all afternoon, so he had no idea of the takeover when he walked into their house.There were clothes, shoes, makeup and handbags everywhere. It was his worst nightmare as a neat freak. A man he knew as Sara's stylist Law came up to him. "So sorry about this, but Pierpaolo insisted last minute his team come right now"

Justin must have looked confused, because Law laughed. "Men, he's the creative director of Valentino."

"Oh." All he knew was that it was expensive. Law grabbed his hand and Justin dropped his Nike bag. "Come, Sara will model the clothes for you and you can give your opinion." He allowed himself to be dragged into the open space where Sara was standing on a riser in front of large fold out mirrors, no doubt the Valentino team brought them. She turned towards him and smiled. "Hi baby! I'm sorry, we are almost done. How do I look?"

Justin smiled. She did look stunning, she was in a red ball gown. He walked over to her and kissed her. The writer smiled, talking notes for their design story. "You look beautiful." He admitted.

"Okay Sara! Me and Law have agreed on the last accessories for your shows! And -oh hello." A short slender man came into the room and stopped when he saw Justin. "And you must be Justin." He walked up to him and kissed both of his cheeks. "Ciao, Pierpaolo." Justin smiled nervously, he felt underdressed in his own house. "I'm Justin Herbert. Nice to meet you."

"I promise we are done, however." The man took a step back and walked around, studying Justin's height. "How tall are you?"

"6'6" He felt like he was being poked and prodded like it was the combine. "Do you know your measurements?"

"My what?" Sara giggled. "Paolo, he only wears Nike athletic clothes, owns two suits which he bought for college graduation"

The man tskked. "Simona. Get his measurements. Here- have Bendetta help Sara out of the dress and Justin you step on the platform."

Sara had to stifle a laugh as she stepped off.  Justin looked like a deer in headlights. "Uh I don't think that's necessary."

Paolo wasn't taking no for an answer. "I insist. You have the perfect body for fashion and you waste it." Hesitantly Justin stepped up, and Sara walked up to him. Despite high heels she looked like a child walking up to a monster. "Justin, you don't have to do this." She spoke softly. "Say the word, and I'll tell him to leave you alone."

He shrugged. "I mean, I don't want to insult him. Plus if I just do this. I'll get free clothes." Sara laughed. "Look at you thinking like a celebrity." She let herself be led away to change, while a woman began to measure his length and width on his body. "This isn't going to work, you need to be in your underwear." The woman spoke in a thick Italian accent.

"I beg your pardon?" She shook her head. "Do not worry, I've run plenty of men's fashion shows. I've seen more than surgeons." He laughed, and began taking off his clothes to only be in his boxers.

Paolo was taking down the measurements as Simona was rattling them off. He was asking Justin questions about his overall style which he was no help. He liked plain clothes. "Oh so we have a quiet luxury aesthetic. I love it. Oh I wish I had brought some men's pieces. Next time, but for now I'll send some ready to wear over."

"You don't have to, but I appreciate it." Sara came out of the room in her usual attire of sweats. "Can you get some custom tailored suits? Nothing fancy, just some casual and special occasion ones. "

"I'm on it." The gang packed up fast, and before Justin knew it, the team was out the door with one last kiss to Sara. He looked at her. "Wow." He admitted.

"It's something isn't it?" He nodded. "Sure you don't want to back out?" He laughed and kissed her.

"I'm not making that mistake again."

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

"No nothing good starts in a getaway car."

Sara and Kristen screamed as they grasped onto each other as the intro for Getaway car played before Taylor began singing. They both couldn't believe it as she saved the best for last.

Behind them in the VIP booth Justin and David both looked at each other. Their girlfriends met last week, but they were already fast friends. Sara got last minute tickets to Taylor's Eras tour for them to join them.

Justin was a little uneasy, as he met the flashes of phone videos and cameras. They were watching every move that the couple made. Everyone commenting on the video of Sara going crazy to Cruel Summer and Style. There was a moment where Justin had Sara in his arms as she was singing 'Lover'

Ladies and Gentlemen will you please stand. With every guitar string star on my hand. I take this magnetic force of a man to be my lover.

As they jumped around and screamed the lyrics to getaway car Justin spoke with David as best as he could.

The song was over, and Justin handed Sara a bottle of water as she was sweating in the Los Angeles heat. "Thank you baby" she smiled.

Taylor spoke. "This song is for someone here tonight, who spoke into existence that one day she would experience this moment in this song. Well I hope this is it."

The song began playing, and Sara gasped.

I'm perfectly fine, I live on my own, I've made up my mind, I'm better off being alone.

Sara began singing the words she knew so well. She felt Justin come up behind her and wrap his arms around her. The bridge came on, which was her favorite, and then she turned around and looked into Justin's eyes

And all at once you are the one I have been waiting for King of my Heart Body and Soul

Justin smiled down at Sara and tucked a piece of her hair behind her ear. She smiled and turned back around to face the stage.

In a surprise, Justin spun her around, in a sea of 70,000 people he kissed her. He didn't care about the photos or the videos, the commentators or any of the articles that were going to come out that same night.

It was just them two.

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

The next morning Justin woke up to get ready for his day. He was excited about the season, camp, and just everything to come. He looked over at Sara sleeping peacefully with the cats and he smiled. He did his usual routine, making sure to have her coffee set up so all she had to do was press the start button.

He pulled out of the garage and began to play songs connected to his bluetooth to his car 

a song came on, it was his favorite and it put him back to July 16th 2022

The dawn is breaking The light is shining through You're barely waken And I'm tangled up in you.

A/N: Guys, I am emotional writing this. I cannot thank you enough for all of the support messages and likes. I started this story with no direction and not even sure I was going to finish this yet here I am. Just because this story is over, doesnt mean you cannot ask me questions about their canon, other things. Also give me a little time to crank out the epilogues. I love you all and thank you!

[fandoms-in-law]

Stories Chapter 6

chapter 1 chapter 2 chapter 3 chapter 4 chapter 5

Summary: During another Hellfire session, Steve has to explain again why the kids shouldn't have read his notebooks.

/\/\

They'd expected that between them they could keep Dustin downstairs, watching films or just generally distracted from the house having been repainted. They had forgotten that Will had said he'd finish the last few details to the mural in Steve's room when there was a break in Hellfire unless he had to plan their next moves out with the party. 

"Where are you going? We can't go up there." Dustin's yell had Steve and Eddie leaving the snacks they'd been grabbing and their conversation abruptly to rejoin the living room where Dustin had a hand on Will's shoulder while Lucas and Mike moved to block the door.

Will just shook his head, “I got permission. Steve knows why and where I'm going. He'd stop me if he didn't want me to go upstairs.

"Have to disagree here. I'd rather not be cycling all over again when rain is forecast all week. Let's carry on guessing what Eddie's got us fighting next." Lucas reasoned. 

Steve snickered for a moment, "Is this actually to try and stay on my good side now? You guys can only learn respect when you've had a punishment, not the best to know but interesting. Besides, Will does have my permission. I asked him to fetch my letterman."

"Why?" Everyone's expression reflected the question Mike made sound like a demand, including Will's which Steve hoped no one else noticed.

He was also asking himself the question though but a glance back at Eddie gave him an idea. "Cause I never got the blood out of Eds vest, thought he'd like the chaos caused by making my letterman into a replacement."

"Seriously? This isn't just..." Eddie started to ask before glancing at everyone. He looked pretty stunned at the suggestion, and doubtful of it, even though knowing everyone was listening halted his words mid-question.

"Sure, why not? I would say having more connection to the Harrington name might reduce the vitriol of the town but the letterman assumptions probably stop that." He shrugged, grinning when the non-party Hellfire guys all started laughing.

"Guess we're sticking around here for longer if Steve and Eddie are going steady." Gareth teased, only getting more laughter when Jeff jumped up.

"It's just maths. Steve + Eddie name wise would make steddie." He insisted, still laughing with everyone.

Said pair shared a look, joining in the laughter before Steve moved to nudge Will towards the stairs. "Guess that works. Go fetch it, Will. It's on the shelves in my closet. Yell if you can't find it."

"How come he can but we can't?" Mike challenged now, looking ready to race up the stairs himself.

Dustin agreed, mimicking Steve's crossed arms and attempting a determined expression that didn't really work. "Yeah, I've been your friend for longer."

"You've also proved yourself a snoop who instead of asking me about what you found shared it with everyone when I clearly had been keeping it to myself."

"Because it was cool! You had awesome stories written and should show them off not act like this cause I found them." The protest was genuine at least, but still not understanding what he'd done. "Sorry for wanting to share the things that make you awesome with my friends, but I'm not seeing what the big deal is."

Steve went to reply immediately but stopped himself, taking a deep breath. "Okay, let's try getting you to understand then. Would have thought given you're all boasting about how smart you are this wouldn't need this, but how can I explain it this time?" He said after a moment, pausing to think straight after.

He startled slightly at a hand on his shoulder and a nod towards the door. Jonathan and Nancy had pulled in. They'd said they might if their film finished while Hellfire was still going and waiting for them to come in gave Steve longer to think.

Nancy of course immediately started trying to figure out what was happening but Steve just gestured to the sofa. "Hey Nance, you used to have a diary, right?"

"What's that got to do with anything?" her eyes are still sharp, taking in his expression now.

"I need a way to explain to the brats why I'm pissed at them still." The explanation was vague if she hadn't heard Mike's complaints about Steve's refusal to give them lifts for the previous week. "Do you still have a diary or is it reporting notebooks you keep now?"

"Both but what does me having a diary have to do with the kids?" She narrowed her eyes, demanding an explanation.

Steve just smiled for a moment as Mike groaned. "No, we don't need Nancy's views on this. We really don't. I'll never hear the end of it."

"So you do understand that people write things you aren't invited to read then, Mike? Care to explain it to Dustin since apparently Erica stat she'd kill someone for doing what Dustin did then shared with all of you didn't get the message across any more than everyone being limited to this room has." Steve requested with a half grin, clearly satisfied with the response but waiting for more.

Mike blinked for a moment taking in the connection he'd reacted to. "Oh. Okay so diaries and I guess Steve's notebooks are private and not the kind of private like DM notes where Eddie acts like it's a game if we start asking questions or trying to get a look at them. It's not something anyone should look through without permission, like Will's therapy notes or activities, there to help him process and understand that what happened wasn't his fault but nothing we need to know unless he wants to share."

"But we have needed to know that stuff." Dustin tried protesting but it was plain to see he was beginning to understand. "Besides it was just Steve's stories we read. That's not a diary."

Eddie cleared his throat then, getting the attention on him. "Except it is. Steve shared a little about what those notebooks are with Robs and I after you decided Hellfire should all read them and to quote him: "Project then have characters argue with it." Now projecting could easily be rephrased to role play. That's what writing is sometimes, rping on your own, and we have no right to force ourselves into anyone else's stories or campaigns, do we?"

Now realisation was clear in all the kids faces but they glanced towards the stairs again. "You saw me ask Will to fetch something. He's got permission to be up there."

"Is your letterman really that hard to find?" Mike asked dubiously.

Steve grinned, shaking his head. "Probably not but I'll fetch him in a minute."

...

The furniture shopping takes a while. It's decisions that even if Steve could go through a magazine saying what he likes didn't find moved with him to the shops they went into. 

Robin called it an excess of choice freezing him, but really it made everything a lot more real to Steve all over again. 

With repainting he'd calmed himself down by thinking that if he did hear about his parents coming home then he could get it painted plain colours again easily enough, but furniture? That wouldn't be so easy to change.

"Kid, I offered to come to help take your new furniture back when you fill Eddie's van up. If you don't start doing that this'll be a day lost to indecision instead of another step towards your new start that I changed those locks to give you." Hopper groused, gesturing back to the sofas Steve had been looking at. "Just pick a comfy one in a colour you like."

Steve smirked then, looking over at him. "We're going to let Eddie throw himself at them to decide that. He's the one most likely to headbutt armrests or the sofa backs and I'd prefer not to have him constantly complaining over headaches."

"Great, so you're staring at them, why?" 

"Trying to avoid him complaining over a headache today too." Steve snickered. "I think it's gonna be one of those three though. They look plush and fit the colours I've painted the living room." He gestured to 3 different sofas in the area as he spoke. 

Hopper nodded, "And this task for Eddie has nothing to do with the fancy chair I saw you eyeing earlier?"

"Course it does. He and Robin are getting the dining table and chairs packed in his van now, then they'll pick the best sofa out of my choices and we'll get them delivered cause they're too long to fit in the van or your truck. While they decide that, I pay for the chair and you and I get it stashed in the truck. I'll keep it out of the way until the next dnd night to shock Eddie with a throne in his spot." Steve planned, looking smug over having fit something for his friends into his redecorating even if they were trying to avoid that. 

chapter 7

[sentmail]

M A T E R I A

Although dependent on your own limits involving mana, something that the Science Department quantifies as MP, magic and materia affinity is a skill like any other.

If you don’t care to put the work in, in a best-case scenario casting something as simple as a cure for a scrapped knee will have you feeling spent, and in a worst-case scenario, any attempt at elemental based magic will lead to an uncontrolled spell that turns on you and spends the entirety of your magic reserves at once, leaving you susceptible to burn out.

SOLDIER RECRUIT, KUNSEL ZANTOS [ AGE 14 | LVL 8 | HP 295 | MP 58 ] MATERIA: [ NONE ]

When he started out as a 3RD Class, Kunsel never had much exposure to materia outside of the pair of Restore and Esuna that his mother owned in case of an emergency, and even then it was hammered into his head that he shouldn’t rely on magic should he get injured. (Some things are best left to the hands of qualified professionals, and magic cares not if something heals wrong as long as it heals.)

His stats, as well, weren’t particularly awe-worthy – slightly below average for his age range, even. But while others were busy underestimating just how much power a shiny orb held, Kunsel listened. He followed instructions.

It came easy.

Although limited by his MP, Kunsel’s instructor said he showed promise, and that alone drove Kunsel to study it further – part of him said that it was so that he could help others learn, while another, smugger part of him just wanted to be better than them.

SOLDIER 2C KUNSEL ZANTOS   [ AGE 18-21 | LVL 64 | HP 5589 | MP 507 ]                 MATERIA: [ LIBRA ] [ EXIT ] [ RESTORE ]

By Crisis Core, Kunsel has somewhat reached a plateau in his leveling. He’s found what works for him, and little out there challenges him in an engaging way. He has very little interest in becoming a 1ST CLASS operative, and so his time and focus are spent elsewhere: teaching others and snooping.

For materia, this means that although his equipment changes depending on each assignment, always keeping in mind a location’s fauna & their abilities/weaknesses, there are three that Kunsel always has on him.

LIBRA, MASTERED a SOLDIER specific iteration of a Sense materia, giving information that could overwhelm those not familiar with its specialized functions. EXIT, LVL 2 it’s important to always have a back-up plan, and Kunsel likes a dramatic exit. RESTORE, LVL 2 if you don’t have a restore materia with you, no matter the mission, you’re asking for trouble.

He’s got secondary favorites, and these are Barrier, Elemental, Time, and Seal. To Kunsel, materia is just another tool, and he uses it more to enhance himself and drag others down. (An advantage is an advantage.) 

Other materia depends on what he’s going to be fighting, but even so, Kunsel tries to switch his materia out regularly – they can only level up through use, and he wants them all to be around the same level of usefulness.

Whatever duplicates he can find Kunsel ‘donates’ it to the Materia Fusion department, where he’s got an 'acquaintance’… which means he’s made friends with one of the scientists that work in this subdivision of Weapons Development, and that even though only 1ST CLASS SOLDIERs are given permission to work with it, Kunsel has been messing with it for a while. Though if you ask him, he’s only been giving “suggestions”, and been allowed to keep the spoils.

SOLDIER 1C KUNSEL ZANTOS [ AGE 21-25 | LVL 85 | HP 8080 | MP 771 ++ 1066 ]               MATERIA: [ LIBRA ] [ HEAL ] [ TIME ] [ DESTRUCT ]  MATERIA: [ RESTORE = ALL ] [ BARRIER = ALL ] SUMMON: [ PHOENIX ]

Whether he was planning on ever reaching SOLDIER 1ST didn’t matter. Kunsel gets promoted two years post the Nibelheim mission where two great SOLDIERs were (supposedly) lost. A genuine effort on his part? Recognition for his efforts in teaching others? A desperate need to rebuild the numbers in a program left to rot when Professor Hojo loses interest in it? That didn’t matter either. Responsibility is thrust upon him, and Kunsel accepts it. Who better than him, to give the ranks direction? To set an example to follow?

Of course, he had to adapt how he worked and thought about combat, but always having been a schemer (or more nicely put, tactician) at heart, it doesn’t take Kunsel much time to settle into a new normal. Instead of solely focusing on buffing himself, Kunsel gives his entire party advantage, and this makes him and whoever he’s working with at the moment a bitch to deal with.

Some might wonder if this wouldn’t be heavily taxing on his MP reserves, and the answer is yes, definitely. If it weren’t for Materia Fusion, there is no way that Kunsel would’ve been able to keep any of this up for long without burning out. Years were spent mastering and fusing MP ++ materia after materia, and then experimenting with fusions until he got it right.

As his work is often team focused, Kunsel forgoes elemental materia of his own, and instead plans missions out accordingly with those in his party. Most of his is already mastered anyway, and any opportunity to cast magic is an opportunity for those below him to sharpen their skills.

So, for most intents and purposes, Kunsel’s usual pick looks something like this:

LIBRA, MASTERED HEAL, LVL 3 TIME, MASTERED DESTROY, LVL 3 RESTORE, MASTERED = ALL, MASTERED BARRIER, MASTERED = ALL, MASTERED both All materia have been fused with MP UP++ materia in the past, leading to a passive increase of 75% per materia, up to a total of 150%

The end result? Kunsel is a glass tank, a play on 'glass hammer’. He is his party’s backbone, and his extensive MP pool means he can and will outlast most encounters that they come across with barely a scratch on anyone, but he can be weakened and tired out. An exploitable weakness, should you figure it out, is that although immune to the Silence status, he is harshly affected by having his MP taken, to the point where he’ll actually take physical damage as well – a trade-off for how much he’s buffed himself to be an asset.

The best bet to dealing with Kunsel is to drain him of his MP, and you can either manage that with spells or abilities of your own, or much more riskily, attempt to steal his materia. If successful, the immediate loss of MP will stagger him and leave him open to attacks. (And he’ll have one less magic buff.)

If the fight drags on too long and he’s not knocked down, should Kunsel be below 25% with most of his party down, he will pull out one last desperation move: 

SUMMON: PHOENIX

[sn0paw]

NO ZONE Chapter 6

Right now, he was only thankful his visor could be switched off from having to amplify outside surroundings.

Team dark, and Tails, we're sitting at the kitchen island, after Rouge had encouraged they all talk things out diplomatically. Sonic had been sent to grab everyone lunch, in hopes it would settle the mood.

Zonic had finally given in to Tails's advice, and was resting across the couch at the other end of the room. He had a headache, stomach cramps, and for some reason an entirely autonomous sense of fear kept his blood coursing faster than average. He was keeping track of it behind his visor out of boredom.

Uuuuugggggghhhhhhhh He did not. Want. To be. Alive.

Ever since he had woken up he had felt horrible, physically. Although he hadn't been fighting, or trying to set up a particle rod during the last moments of meaningful existence; he felt as if he had just run the entire cosmic intersection, and then herded a rampaging group of tree trolls back into their home zone.

He was sure there was an explanation, perhaps even a legitimate physical cause. But if there was, then only Zails would be able to tell...

Maybe it was further malfunction in his ACA, that was screwing up everything. But it wasn't like he could turn them off. Only Zally could do that, with her admin control. It was horrible, how a single thing off with his disks threw his entire game. And having Shadow here only made things more complicated.

"GUN just wants to know what it is."

"Well, you know it's an alien. So can you let me get back to work?!"

"We can't just walk in and say 'yeah it's an alien' they wanna know everything." Rouge added with equal sass along with Shadow, against Tails who was probably on the same boat as Zonic right now.

The fox sighed with frustration and thumped his head against the table, running his hands through his fur. He then looked back up with his eyes narrowed.

"Well, I was working on my translator, so if you'll please excuse me, while I retrieve it." Tails finished with spite, and without waiting for any permission of the sort, scooted down from the stool and walked off with his tails whipping in agitation.

Zonic watched him leave, wanting to go with him but honestly not seeing any point besides listening to his issues before finally being left alone. He turned to Shadow instead, who's crimson eyes were staring straight back at him. He was allot bigger in person... Zhadow's makeup seemed allot more biologically 'normal' compared to him... or maybe it was because they had to actually work out, in order to meet the level other Zoners were capable of with just the effort of intentional.

In a less confusing sentence structure, Zhadow had more muscle tone that seemed to even out their proportions. But then again it took Zhadows maximum effort just to match Shadows normal. But the biggest difference was that after all his experience, Zonic felt that odd sense of familiarity when he looked at Shadow. That wasn't normal... Usually when he met other doppelgängers, they were almost twin-like but not identical. He didn't feel any sort of attachment to them, because he knew it wasn't them, and to him, they didn't look exactly like anyone he was concerned about. But Shadow was different, in the sense he almost looked like Zhadow before his rehab...

The black hedgehog seemed angry at him, and the blue elite knew exactly why. Shadow wouldn't take kindly to aliens, primarily because of the Black Arms invasion. This was his territory. Not open to extra terrestrials who would change their special way of life. When put that way, Zonic for a brief moment almost understood how it felt... How did that quote go? 'Freedom is the right of all sentient beings...'?

Rouge and Omega he wasn't as worried about. Omega was easy to outrun and outsmart. Rouge was a little tougher, but immature when it came to spy work. She was good at snooping that was for sure, but her tricks were predictable. As for Shadow... well... his short temper brought in a whole new set of factors to the equation. He had to stay as far from him, as much as possible.

The metal doors at the front of the lobby slid open, and a tall, strong, and slender blue hedgehog stepped through them; holding a fast food bag and a cup holder.

Ah yes... and then there was Sonic...

Honestly when Zonic had first begun his career, he had hoped they could become friends... When he was younger he used to idolize his genesis. Until sometime between Scourges second breakout, and the start of Dr. Eggman Nega's raids. That feeling of waking up one day, and realizing there was no place for an idol made by a stardust kid. The No Zone had no place for wannabes or followers. Without an original thought, or challenging opinions, maybe even on the same subject, they wouldn't have gone as far as they did.

Although they held the potential to sort eachothers more confusing emotions, Sonic just wouldn't understand the things he did...

And it had felt better...

Letting go of others examples, or trying to be like someone else.

Zails's most important lesson to him. To be the best him, he could possibly be. Because that's who was needed. There was already a Sonic. What was so special about having two? He was Zonic. 37:86 of the No Zone. Maybe he didn't have super speed, but knew formulas to wheedle between atoms by heart.

Oh... and he could swim.

Every doppelgänger differed in maybe just the slightest ways. It didn't make them individual, but each one knew something another didnt. The circumstances shifted ever so slightly to give each doppelgänger experiences, another would never feel.

Perhaps the one he had found the most interesting, was a Zone where Sonic and Shadow were far from enemies... Exactly like Sonic and Shadow in every way, accept just one slight hiccup in an atom that changed everything for them. Sonic prime and Shadow prime would never feel what they felt.

Those were the X theories Zails had come to scientifically prove. And then there was the Y theories, which included different environments altogether. Each Zone had an X and Y variable. Like the No Zone for example. Zoners were Prime Zoners second thoughts. Zonics first response personality, derived from what Sonic kept secondhand, to the otherwise fun loving and optimistic hedgehog he was known for. The Y variable was placing that Sonic in a Los Alamos hosted by the Space Force.

Or Scourge, an extreme X variable. A negative variable, opposite in morals. He wasn't senile or a legitimate villain, just... a bad guy. In an environment which had started off as an attempted utopia, and fell into depression after Scourges opposition. Social standard giving way to absolute freedom. Consequentially, there were no laws to retain the good in people, and one would have to depend on themself for security but, that was the Anti Zone. Unfortunately it's flow had been brought to a stagnant halt, after Scourge had been subjected to the multiverse... like ending a movie too soon, and wherever it stopped was just the way things were now, forever.

That didn't make Scourge any less annoying though... At the same time, getting out of headquarters every now and then to play tag had kept things fun enough.

Zonic gave a deep sigh, wondering if he'd start missing people he found infuriating pretty soon... Hopefully it didn't have to be for long...

"Hey," a bright voice caught his attention.

Sonic was looking at him with a smile, perhaps making an effort to be nice to him after Shadow had just told him where Tails went.

The blue hero beckoned him over with a wave of his hand, Omega behind him delicately unpacking the contents of the white paper bag, and taking out small rice boxes and a carton of eggdrop soup.

"Hungry?" Sonic offered, opening one of the boxes and pointing at it.

Zonic was reminded strongly of a time where Zhadow had done literally the same thing. But since the last context flashback took up the entire chapter,  he wasn't going to explore the thought.

Still keeping up his charade of being an alien who didn't know anything, the blue elite only sat up slightly, tilting his head. Sonic, Rouge, Omega, and Shadow, were all staring at him.

Tails was taking an awfully long time finding his tablet...

Still, when he did take a meal, he needed to find someplace private, so that he could unlock his helmet. And he couldn't do that without possibly raising the others suspicions. How could he excuse this? Sensitive to light perhaps? Customary where you didn't eat in front of people? Nah, lights were easier to explain.

Sonic made the waving motion with his arm again, and pointed at the rice box, picking out a piece orange chicken and popping it in his mouth. Despite the fact Omega had caught onto him pretty quickly, Zonic almost felt this was too easy... he just had to be patient. Play it out, and not get too careless or else he'd blow his own act. Maybe he had Tails to thank, and the fact his friends were so protective over him.

Dragging himself up, the elite waited for the blood to finish rushing from his head, and was only barely worried when his disks made a sound all of their own. A metallic croon, who's distressed tone made Omega rattle slightly with unease.

Rouge looked at him, resting a hand on his metal plating. "Omega? What's wrong?" She asked, with more interest than concern. Shadow leaned back to check the robot over for any obvious damage.

"The thing... It is in pain." The tank replied, with no other emotion in his tone, other than just simple fact.

Sonic looked back at him, this time with legitimate sympathy, however Shadow was more disapproving as Zonic had finally approached the isle.

"Hmph... a wounded animal winding up on our doorstep... Don't you think if you help it, it will attract more? Why is this thing out here? If it is an alien at all." The black hedgehog remarked coldly.

Rouge shrugged. "A valid point. Which is why we can't come back without all the details. But still..." she sighed, beginning to stir around her own food after taking a box.

Sonic quickly swallowed his mouthful to add in his input. "Mkay but if it dies here don't you think that'd tick off it's buddies?" He said, pointing his fork at Shadow who seemed surprised but then contemplative. An even more valid point.

The door to the right opened, and Tails finally stepped through, a dusty mess and his fur ruffled.

"Sorry, I forgot where I put this thing... remember this Sonic?" The young fox asked excitedly, holding up his original Miles Electric with a shoddy antenna protruding from its top.

Both Sonic and Zonic certainly did, and the blue elite even remembered shouting with victory as Sonic had survived running at terminal velocity, in his daring escape from the radioactive explosion; caused by the destruction of Eggmans wisp fueled amusement park.

Sonic brightened up, and a huge grin bared his canines. "Aw yeah! Of course I do!" He exclaimed, jumping up from his seat and zipping over to examine the old dusty tablet. "Haha, this things a dinosaur compared to your newer ones. Think it'll still work?" He asked, leaving Shadow and Rouge in the confused dust.

Tails was already typing madly on it's screen, adjusting the antenna and flipping it over to check if it still had adequate power. "Yeah... I just gotta acclimate it to whatever language this thing is speaking. I just need a sample to start off with and I can make the adjustments from there." The young engineer explained, walking over with his blue friend with his nose practically touching the screen.

"Cool." Sonic returned, and jabbed a thumb at Team Dark. "Sooner these losers are gone the better right?" He asked teasingly.

Shadow gave a challenging huff, crossing his arms and raising his chin. "Next time you're flung out into space I'm not saving you." He stated with a dark smirk.

The blue hero made a mocking hand, as he helped his otherwise occupied friend onto the tall stool. "Uhuh, like Id pass up the opportunity for another fever dream. Who knows, maybe I might be saved by this thing." He finished positively, Zonic personally hoping he would never have to do such a thing.

Tails placed his tablet onto the counter, and was continuing to type lines of code and commands into the black screen, its antenna then raising and pointing its dish at him. "Right..." he muttered distantly, finishing up another line or two, before pressing one of the buttons on the side of its yellow panels.

Then, the fox turned around and sat back, pointing at the No Zoner and then the tablet, before raising two of his fingers at his mouth, and speaking very loudly and clearly. "T-a-l-k! I, Need, You, To S-p-e-a-k! Lalalala!" Tails offered, blushing slightly as Rouge choked on her rice.

Oof, yeah, he was gonna spare the kid the trouble on this one... Looking at the tablet, Zonic hummed a bit to test his voice, before letting his sarcasm off the leash in hopes of entertaining himself. "Hi, my name is Zonic, I'm His twin, and I'm from an alternate universe called the No Zone, which doesn't exist anymore because evidently all of you forgot we ever existed in the first place and we were too busy to do anything about it, so I'm telling you all this because that thing is gonna take another two hours just to function properly and I have a way better idea." He finished, crossing his arms.

The prime Zoners expressions of utter confusion and astoundment were just priceless...

Zonic had no doubt the translation of his one continuous sentence in siren song, had created the most overwhelming screaming chatter anyone had ever heard. Perhaps similar to an oasis surrounded by a dense flock of parakeets.

Tails stared at him for a moment longer, his mouth gaping slightly, before he finally seemed to recollect his senses and turned back to the tablet. Shadow shook his head with wide eyes. "If you got any of that..." he murmured.

"Nope." Tails confirmed with a disappointed sigh, and Omega added, "As expected, however appreciated."

Zonic rolled his eyes, with a helpless smile. Oh it was so fun messing with people from time to time... You ever put something down and leave it for a minute, then turn back around and you could've sworn you just had it there? Mhm.

Of course though, it was only one in a hundred times. He'd be discharged on the spot if he ever interacted with other Zoners without a life threatening reason. That was the only time they were allowed to show themselves, or do anything at all. If there was an unstable crossing of Zones, that could get out of hand. One had to set personal feelings aside. Even if it felt bad, that's how life was for some people. They couldn't bend someones fate or destiny just because they felt like it...

Without further adieu, Zonic pointed at his disks, and generating his own radio waves, managed to connect himself with the same signals the Miles Electric was receiving. They were almost like his own, but a little faster. Maybe around a beta wave.

He could now broadcast his consciousness to a platform.

[hello. I am an explorer from a planet system across the universe. Uhhh... my goal is.. my purpose is to find the soul sister, a being long lost to the stars. It is said she had once visited our planet, and we are curious to find her again. I was struck by space pirates, and cannot control my ship until my machinery is repaired]

[worldly-diversity]

Electricity sparked between their hands, briefly robbing electricity from the room to instead light it up from where their palms connected and moving outward in rapidly flickering lines akin to lightning. It wouldn't hurt either of them, but a small mark would engrave itself into both of their palms, a physical representation of the agreement. It wasn't vibrant or anything, a clear indicator that it wasn't all that binding, but the belief being poured into their agreement could strengthen it, given time.

The lights flickered back on gradually, and Vox offered Angel one of his bright showmanship smiles, rising from his chair and clapping him on the shoulder. Now he was gonna have to explain this to Val and hope he doesn't come back in a million tiny pieces…

"Wonderful! Trust me, you're not gonna regret this!" He is. Pondering his options for a moment, Vox hums and rapid calculations and simulations run behind his eyes, too quick to follow or even really notice, considering he's spun away from Angel in the process.

"Alright, rule number one is you don't tell anyone about our deal unless I give you permission to, and even then only to the degree I allow, understood?" His posture had straightened, hands clasped behind his back and settled into something more business-like and curt. He needed Angel to listen, the obeying part at least had now been taken care of.

"Rule number two is that you don't antagonise Valentino if you can help it. I can't have you pulling me from my work to keep you safe just because you thought it was a good idea to talk back to him." Angel will be discovering in the coming days what exactly Vox meant by preserving their image, and how much it'll be limiting Angel's ability to act out against any of the Vees.

"I'm sure anything else can be ironed out as we go along." Oh boy, he's really not looking forward to telling Val he'd struck a deal with his boy toy. His soul still belongs to Val, he's not dumb enough to get in between that, but it's still a very risky move all things considered.

"Oh, right." He snaps his fingers and a drone appears from one of the closed doors in the lobby, dropping an object into Vox' hand and disappearing once again. The TV demon shifts and offers the object to Angel, a wrist band just like the one he'd given Pentious. "You keep this on at ALL times. Water won't damage it so I mean it. If I can't get in touch with you, you'll regret it."

He waited to make sure Angel had clipped it on before nodding to himself. "Now if you'll excuse me, I need to go ensure Val doesn't just kill the both of us."

He had an idea of how to tackle this, but he was still slightly nervous as he headed up to the tower, taking the manual route rather than transporting himself through the network to allow himself more time to think. And then it was showtime—

"You wouldn't guess who I caught hanging around places he shouldn't be, stoned out of his mind." He opened, an amused lilt to his voice as he tapped the side of his screen, an indicator that he'd caught it on camera rather than in person.

It looks like Velvette's still out, which makes one less person who can call him out on his bullshit. He doesn't like lying to Val, but it's distinctly necessary right now so he pulls close and wraps an arm playfully around the moth's waist as the other replies.

"Anyone we care about?"

He resumes some distance, idly heading over to the screens he'd dedicated to watching over the Hotel just in case anything interesting happened there. "Yeah, your boy toy." He hums with an air of casualty. "He's been pulling on his chains lately, hasn't he? That's quite the bit of disrespect, considering everything you've done for him."

"The fuck you mean Angel's been snooping— Why that little fucking BITCH! When I get my hands on him—"

He hadn't said snooping, but alright. "Calm down Val, you're proving my point." A tricky call to make, considering the likeliness of Val not taking that well, but he's trying to lead the other along a specific path right now and some risks need to be taken.

Indeed barely a split second later, Valentino rounded on him with a snarl, relaxed position growing tense and more antagonistic right away. "The FUCK is that supposed to mean, Voxxy?" Val sneered, the smoke around him growing more dense with his annoyance.

"I'm just saying, Angel was a good worker for you till you started roughing him up, right?" He's quick to defend, hands raising in a placating manner, stance open— He means no harm and is telegraphing that as well as he can. It's not that he's afraid of Val's violent moods or outbursts, but he can't afford to have Val on a hair's trigger right now, nor to have him begin to distrust Vox and his intentions. Damn fiercely independent moths…

"So? That little bitch has it coming." Came the defensive but calmer response, allowing Vox to wander closer again, leaning against the back of one of the couches in their lobby.

"I know, but the harder you push, the more trouble he's gonna cause. Already he's staying with the delusional princess and her band of cohorts. With Alastor. He's in a prime position to undermine everything we've built up, long as he gets sober long enough to realise it." He can't keep his own annoyance out of his voice at the mention of his rival, eye twitching briefly. Alastor wasn't the point— But the radio demon could take advantage of Angel in a moment of weakness the same way he'd just done, and he wouldn't be shy about picking a fight with the Vees if it got him such a handy piece of leverage.

Valentino simply scoffed, though there was a flash of amusement there at Vox' own hangups when it comes to Alastor. Nevertheless, he can accept that Vox has a point. Angel staying at that damn hotel had been pissing him off from day one to say the least— If it caused them trouble of a different kind to boot… "Then we make him stay at the studio— I'm sure I'll find use for him."

"I agree, but his contract's the problem, isn't it? You can't pull his chain outside of work, and he's gonna start taking advantage of that if we don't reign him in." Vox offered, briefly diverting his attention to the cameras in his tower to make sure the arachnid wasn't proving overly eager to test out the limits of their agreement.

When he refocussed, he was met with Valentino much closer than he'd been a moment ago, narrowed eyes visible behind the other's tinted heart-shaped lenses and making Vox feel briefly trapped against the couch. In any other situation that would've been attractive—

"You've put an awful lot of thought into one of my workers there, Voxxy."

"I'm just offering suggestions— That's all. He's your business, but if he starts exposing us from the inside it won't just be you he'll be affecting." Looks like he needs to break it down after all. He holds back a sigh, Val's going to be ripping into his plans for a while by the looks of things. Angel would just have to keep himself busy until Vox could get back to him.

"Fine, spill then. What's your brilliant idea?" 

It took about an hour for Valentino to be satisfied, feathers ruffled but otherwise confident that they would have Angel back under control as soon as Vox managed to execute this plan of his. Better if Val never found out that Vox had acted first and then talked him into agreeing afterwards— Val would likely never forgive him for subverting his authority like that.

It wasn't a written rule, but they weren't meant to interfere in each other's businesses. Yet he'd seen an opportunity and capitalised on it without considering how Valentino would take things. He'd better be real fucking careful that it doesn't happen again from now on.

The screen on Angel's wrist flickers on at last, entirely uncaring of where the spider was or what he might be doing.

"Val's been informed. You're to show up tomorrow for your shoots like usual. You can do whatever you want tonight." Within the constraints of what Vox considered damaging to their image, but Angel would find out about that as soon as he attempted to bad-mouth any of the Vees, or tried to talk about his agreement with Vox for that matter.

He was so fucking messed up.

His head was swimming, his mind a complete mess. Angel can't even properly focus long enough before his head lulls back onto the cool surface of the table. He was in Vox's tower, that much he was aware of.

Because if he ended up in Velvette's room? He would've been already fucked over & sent off back to Valentino. He knew she wouldn't put up with his drugged up shit even if he was sober enough to remember. He was just thankful Vox had the decency to hear him out at least. 

He winces when those clawed fingers reach forward to his jaw, expecting to be hit with a verbal lashing or something. Not ... whatever this was. The fuck was he playing at? He groans at the use of his real name, though oddly enough, he still finds himself leaning into his strangely comforting touch.

"I ain't completely out of it yet. I jus' ... I don't wanna deal wit' him anymore tonight," he mumbles, hopefully loud enough for Vox to hear him. He still has no idea what the overlord is actually planning in that twisted mind of his right now. All he is aware of is that something was up. 

"Huh ? " Lips tug into a small frown the moment he's called out on being afraid of Val. Which, in a way was true, but still, you don't just call someone out on their shit like that!

"I'm not ... " His gaze softens, brows furrowing as confusion overtakes his facial expression. "I ain't afraid." Like he's correcting himself. Even if he was lying right through his teeth about it. 

Still, he tried making himself sound convincing enough to get Vox off his back about it. He nearly almost missed out on what Vox says next, only barely catching the tail end of his first recollection. He shouldn't be surprised, though.

Of course Vox would know what Valentino is like being in a group with the guy. Lips curl into a tighter frown the more he listens on, gaze flickering back down to the table. Away from Vox. He sort of did have someone to protect him ... just when he was at the hotel at least. Two someone's actually, but neither were there with him. 

Angel Dust was alone. Alone at the 'mercy' of an overlord. How fucking ironic. 

Another groan makes its way out of his throat at the mention of being called a toy ——— Valentino's toy to be exact. & Even if it was true, it didn't mean he still enjoyed hearing it being repeated. It just served to make his fur stand on end, causing the spider to shudder. Angel keeps his silence for now, silently wishing the waves of nausea would stop taking him by surprise. A free hand covers his stomach just in case. 

"Help each other ? " He repeats, brows furrowing tightly as he attempts to hear Vox out. Why he was even considering this was beyond comprehension at this point. The thing was, Vox had yet to go to Val about him, that's the thing that mattered most to Angel. He lifts his head, teeth chewing on his bottom lip as he thinks the deal over. This ... could end only up very badly for him once he was sobered up enough. 

But he was desperate enough to try anything. 

"Yeah, I do." he mumbles, lips quirking thoughtfully. He only tenses up slightly when that clawed hand reaches forward again. Gaze lifting to meet his at the overly gentle treatment.

What the actual fuck? Vox was trying to confuse him more, wasn't he? Teeth grit together, biting back a scoff as he pushes away from the touch. Like it was scorching him. 

He can't get wrapped up in this. Two overlords being after him sounded like overkill right from the start. & Yet ... Vox was offering him safety from Valentino. All he had to do was listen to him? 

His gaze shifts from the table, to his hands & back to his outstretched hand. "I ... " Fuck, was he really doing this? Husk was going to be disappointed when/if he ever found out. Swallowing thickly, he closes his eyes & holds his own hand out. Very steadily reaching forward to accept Vox's hand. "Fine. We have a deal." 

[acourtofthought]

It's All Canon Baby

Sure this happened:

Never, Rhys said from where he finished buckling on his own weapons against the side of the wagon. I have never once seen Azriel let another person touch that knife.

But so did this:

But Elain had given it back—had pressed it into Azriel’s hands after the battle, just as he had pressed it into hers before. And then walked away without looking back.

And this:

Azriel leaned against the wall by the lone door, Truth-Teller bloody in his hand.

But Feyre, Cassian knew, had been aware of what she’d see before entering. And well aware that these ten minutes had only been the opening movements in a symphony of pain that Azriel could conduct with brutal efficiency.

And this:

And he knew the cruelty of the Hewn City troubled her.

Sure this happened:

Nesta said, “Then you will die.” Azriel only repeated, rage glazing that stare, “I’m getting her back.”

But so did this:

Cassian bared his teeth. “What the hell can we do against that?” “I’m going in,” Azriel said. “No,” Rhys snapped. But Azriel was spreading his wings, the sunlight so stark on the new, slashing scars down the membrane. “Chain me to a tree, Rhys,” Azriel said softly. “Go ahead.” He began checking the buckles on his weapons. “I’ll rip it out of the ground and fly with it on my damned back.”

And this:

“I want to confirm that Briallyn has the Crown,” Azriel said. “I’ll travel to the human lands tomorrow.” “No,” Feyre and Rhys said at the same time, in the same breath. Azriel’s eyes shuttered. “I wasn’t asking for permission.” Rhys smirked. “Doesn’t matter.” Az opened his mouth to object, but Feyre said, “You’re not going, Azriel. If Briallyn has the Crown and catches you, even if she just suspects you’re nearby, who knows what she could do to you?” “Give me some credit, Feyre,” Az said. “I can keep hidden well enough.” “We take no risks,” Feyre said, voice flat with command. “Pull all your spies out.” “Like hell I will.”

Sure this happened:

“Why not make them mates?” I mused. “Why Lucien?”

But so did this:

“No.” I blinked. “But he is a good male.” Despite our harsh words. Despite this Band of Exiles bullshit. “He cares for you.” “He doesn’t know me.” “You don’t give him the chance to even try to do so.”

And this:

“Stay out of it. She’s not ready, and neither is he, no matter how many presents he brings.” I lifted a brow. “Snoop.” Mor leaned back against the steps, utterly unrepentant. “Let him live with his Band of Exiles. Let him deal with Tamlin in his own way. Let him figure out where he wants to be. Who he wants to be. The same goes with her.”

Sure this happened:

she breathed, “Beautiful.”

But so did this:

I couldn’t tell if she was looking at his blue Siphon or at his scarred skin beneath

Sure this happened:

Color bloomed high on Azriel’s golden-brown cheeks

But so did this:

“Thank you,” Nesta said, quickly pulling away to marvel at the device. “It’s brilliant.” Azriel blushed and stepped back, shadows swirling.

And this:

Mor and Cassian howled, earning a blush from Azriel

Sure this happened:

And I think Elain—Elain would like it, too. Though she’d probably cling to Azriel, just to have some peace and quiet.”

But so did this:

I think she and Amren would be fast friends.

Which led to this:

Only Amren ignored her, and Nesta ignored Amren. The tension between them was a living band of lightning. But no one said anything, and they seemed content to pretend the other didn’t exist.

And though they eventually made up to some degree, Nesta's truest friendships ended up being with Emerie and Gwyn.

Sure this happened:

Elain had squared her shoulders and declared that she was a part of this court—and would do whatever was needed.

But so did this:

He’d never once in the two years he’d known her found Elain to be plain, but wearing black, no matter how much she claimed to be part of this court … It sucked the life from her.

Sure this happened:

“Enchanted gloves,” she read from the card. “That won’t tear or become too sweaty while gardening.” She set aside the box without looking at it for longer than a moment. And I wondered if she preferred to have torn and sweaty hands, if the dirt and cuts were proof of her labor. Her joy.

But so did this:

"I didn't dare mention that if she had been wearing the enchanted gloves Lucien had gotten her last Solstice, nothing would have pierced them at all".

Sure this happened:

“We’re the ones who need …” Azriel trailed off. “A seer,” he said, more to himself than us. “The Cauldron made you a seer.”

But so did this:

“It would seem so,” Rhys mused, then said to Lucien, “The flame in her eyes was not of your usual sort, I take it.” Lucien shook his head. “No. It spoke to nothing in my own arsenal. That was … Ice so cold it burned. Ice and yet … fluid like flame. Or flame made of ice.”. I held Rhys’s gaze, as if it were again the tether that had kept me in this world. “I think the power is death—death made flesh. Or whatever power the Cauldron holds over such things. That’s why the Carver heard it—heard about her.”

Sure this happened:

He was still happy to be Mor’s buffer with Azriel, but there’d been a change lately. In both of them. Mor no longer sat beside Cassian, draped herself over him, and Azriel … those longing glances toward her had become few and far between. As if he’d given up. After five hundred years, he’d somehow given up. Cassian couldn’t think why.

But so did this:

“I’ve spent weeks in that blasted court,” Mor said.

And this:

The High Lord of Day considered Cassian and Azriel, then frowned. “Where’s my beautiful Mor?” Az said tightly, “Away.”

And this:

Nesta said to Feyre, “Did you tell Elain?” Before Feyre could reply, Azriel said, “What about Mor?”

And this:

"What of Mor, Az?" Azriel ignored the question.

Sure this happened:

She shook her head, devouring the sight of him as if not quite believing it. “You came for me.” The shadowsinger only inclined his head.

But so did this:

I nudged Elain, who blinked at me, then blurted, “You could come to Velaris.”

Sure this happened:

Lucien, surprisingly, was chuckling, his shoulders loose and his head angled while he listened.

But so did this:

Vassa rolled her eyes, then looked to Lucien, who sank onto the sofa beside Jurian. Like the Fae male had settled similar arguments between them before. But Lucien’s attention was upon Cassian.

And this:

Cassian’s heart strained at the pain etching deep into Lucien’s face as he tried to hide his disappointment and longing. (Lucien looking at Elain).

Sure this happened:

He glanced at Elain, who was again studying her lap. “I’m not needed here.

But so did this:

Their gazes locked and held. But Elain said nothing. Did not so much as take one step downward. Lucien inclined his head in a bow, the movement hiding the gleam in his eye—the longing and sadness. And when Lucien turned to signal to Rhys to go … He did not glance back at Elain. Did not see the half step she took toward the stairs—as if she’d speak to him. Stop him.

Sure this happened:

"She hadn't bought her Mate a present.". "She'd gotten Azriel one last year"

But so did this:

Elain gave him a specially designed ceramic mug with a lid that he could travel with, bespelled against breaking, to keep tea warm for hours. (Cassian's gift)

And most likely this from the last Solstice:

"The others passed around their gifts"

(possible proof that Elain got Cassian something the year before too, just like Az. If anything, it cannot be proven that Elain only got Az a gift the year before).

Sure this happened:

"a headache powder he'd kept on his nightstand at the HOW. Not to use, just to look at."

But so did this:

I’m fairly certain Azriel has a drawer full of all the daggers I’ve bought him throughout the centuries that he’s too polite to throw away, but won’t ever use.”

Sure this happened:

"he wouldn't go so far as to call Gwyn a friend"

But so did this:

Something sparked in Azriel's chest, but he only nodded his thanks and left. He could picture it, though, as he ascended the stairs back to the House proper. How Gwyn's teal eyes might light upon seeing the necklace. For whatever reason... he could see it. But Azriel tucked away the thought, consciously erasing the slight smile it brought to his face. Buried the image down deep, where it glowed quietly.

A thing of secret, lovely beauty.

Sure this happened:

No one spoke, though shadows gathered in the corners of the room, like snakes preparing to strike.

But so did this:

"They'd always been prone to vanish when she was around".

Sure this happened:

“And you?” I made myself say. “Are you—all right?”. Elain looked over a shoulder at me as we entered the foyer, then turned left—to the dining room. In the sitting room across the way, all conversation halted at the smell of food. “Why wouldn’t I be all right?” she asked, a smile lighting up her face.

But so did this:

I’d seen those smiles before. On my own damn face.

Sure this happened:

"What if the Cauldron was wrong?"

But so did this'

Azriel said nothing. He hadn't gotten that far with his planning, certainly not beyond the fantasies he pleasured himself to.

Canon isn't the argument some think it is, it doesn't prove Endgame anything.

Whatever a reader thinks is going on based on canon alone is purposely ignoring that SJM doesn't always come right out and tell us the direction she's heading, she leaves subtle hints. She has literally told us in interviews about all the "breadcrumbs" she sprinkles so what good is it doing to act like these big, bold, obvious moments have to be the only possible outcome while conveniently pretending like those other breadcrumbs don't matter?

"Elain and Az nearly kissed! They want each other!"

"Elain belongs in the NC, she said so herself!"

"Elain has friends and hobbies so she's got no more healing to do!"

"Az is over Mor! Cassian said so!"

"Az doesn't even consider Gwyn a friend a few months after officially meeting her, they could never end up together!"

"Elain won't look at Lucien so it must remain that way for all of eternity!"

The truth is, SJM has put enough in there to support Elucien, E/riel, or Gwynriel. I think based on her style, she's setting E/riel up to have only been an emotional / near physical rebound for all the wrong reasons (which came to an end in the POV Chapter), but I cannot deny she hinted at something between them in the other books. I'm also not going to deny that all those hints were followed by hints for other ships or proof that neither Az or Elain were over Mor and Graysen. But I'm still not here pretending there weren't things that led us to what happened on Solstice. I just think regardless, E/riel was always set up as being doomed to fail.

I'm not sure why E/riels refuse to admit that E/riel might not have the endgame setup they think they've had, and that there are canon moments that could hint at an Elucien / Gwynriel future too. That the characters and their feelings for one another can still change in the next books.

Do they think stubbornly refusing to admit any other outcome is a possibility will somehow guarantee their ship? I'm sure Team Jacobs and Team Gale's did the same thing yet they still ended up having to accept defeat.

At this point it all comes down to hoping those hints lead us to the outcome we want. Because canon currently supports the possibility of every single pairing and if SJM wants, canon up until now doesn't even have to matter because she has created a brand new ship in a single book despite the Canon that came before.

Make your posts, defend your ship, but seriously, stop sending threats, stop acting like other people are stupid or lack reading comprehension for believing in theirs. You just make yourself look like the idiot considering they can provide just as many canon moments and the fact that you don't realize or ignore that those canon moments exist means you are the one lacking in reading comprehension and are guilty of selective reading.

[taleasnewastime]

Dating advice | Part eighteen

Summary: It’s been months – ok, it’s been years – since you last went on a date. And you’re sick of it. Sick of seeing couples kissing and holding hands in the street. Sick of your friends settling down. Sick of everyone buying houses and having families. You’re going to do something about it. You’re going to snap up a man, you’re going to tie someone down, you’re going to finally commit, you’re going to – you’re going to need a bit of advice.

Pairing: Yoongi x reader

Genre: fluff; angst; smut

Word count: 2.1k

Warnings: Low self-esteem, angst, awkwardness, overthinking, alcohol consumption.

Authors Note: I feel like I say this every week, but I can’t believe how close to the end we are now!! Thanks to everyone still reading :) 

Previous | Next | Series masterlist

Yoongi looks out of his depth. Stood in a cowboy hat, white jacket and trousers. You have to give it to him; he didn’t disappoint on the outfit. The white material of his trousers hugs every curve he has. You nearly chocked when he bent over earlier to pick something up and you got an eyeful of his ass. The leopard print shirt with top few buttons undone, and the way he’s swept his hair back off his face isn’t helping matters either.

While he was joking the other day about your kink being people dressing up, seeing him like this, you’re now wondering if maybe he was right.

He’s surrounded by a group of your friends and while that should possibly worry you, you can only smile at the sight. Jimin’s talking and laughing next to him, in a more extravagant cowboy outfit, telling a story only a few others are laughing at. Yoongi looks to be indulging him and his story, a small smile on his lips, a little gummy smile slipping every so often, a sip of his drink when Jimin laughs a little too hard and Yoongi obviously doesn’t find it so funny but doesn’t want to be rude.

You stand a distance away. Watching with your own drink in hand, enjoying it too much to interrupt just yet.

He was nervous to come. He came to your house before, his cowboy hat in hand. You’d beamed when you’d opened the door, he’d scowled and grumbled about not making any jokes. You had to bite your tongue not to laugh. You didn’t joke about what he wore, but you also didn’t mention how hot you thought he looked; you didn’t want him to turn and walk out the door.

He finally managed to snoop; you’d told him it was his consolation prize for coming along. While you finished getting ready you let him have free reign of your downstairs. Even with permission his cheeks had tinted pink when you came down to see him with a photo frame in his hands. Or maybe the tint was due to something else given the way his eyes had danced across your body. You didn’t question it to find out.

“Want some liquid courage?” You smiled, heading to your small alcohol collection.

“I’m not nervous,” you had hummed, not believing him and after a short pause he added. “But I wouldn’t say no to a drink.”

You smiled, didn’t ask what he wanted, just poured out two of what you were having. It’s one of the many things you’ve learnt about Yoongi, he’s not fussy.

You didn’t have too much to drink at yours, probably walked it off in the fifteen-minute walk to the party. You’d done the rounds of introducing him to everyone and he stuck to you every moment. His hand ghosted on the small of your back as you walked between groups and became a little firmer when you laughed a little too hard, steadying you.

It took a while for you to leave Yoongi alone, not because he was clinging to you or asked you not to leave him, but because you were worried. Worried that Yoongi wouldn’t know what to say or who to talk to, worried that he came because of you and if you left him, he wouldn’t have a good time and worried that your friends would embarrass you with stories of your past you’d rather stay hidden. It’s not that you thought Yoongi wouldn’t fit in or would struggle, it’s more that you worried how your friends would treat him. But looking at him now, you don’t know why you worried at all.

Of course, Yoongi would be social. He may be introverted and seem cold, but he owns a pub, he’s a friendly guy, he knows how to hold a conversation. And why would your friends exclude him? You love your friends, they love you, and you really, really like Yoongi, why wouldn’t they also like him?

Your stresses melt away, though if you’re being honest they disappeared a long time ago, maybe around that fourth drink you had. Now you realise that you don’t want to leave Yoongi alone not because you’re worried but because you don’t want to be away from his side.

The issue was, since you arrived and possibly due to your earlier nerves, you’ve had far more to drink. You wouldn’t say you’re drunk, but as you work your way back to Yoongi’s side you’re not walking in a straight line. There’s a beaming smile on your face before you’re even by his side, as if the mere thought of standing next to him excites you.

“Howdy,” you giggle as you pull up to his side, crashing into him a little harder than you would if you were sober.

You feel him shift and then are met with his eyes as he looks down at you. You beam up at him, he scrunches his nose and smiles at you.

“How much have you had to drink?”

You giggle, pushing further into his side. “Taehyung only made me do one shot. I promise.”

His smile widens as if he can’t control it. His arm looping around your back, hand resting on your hip. You feel less sway-y at least. But that doesn’t feel like the main perk to this position. For one, you can better see his eyes like this, the different strands of brown that make up his iris. For another you get a front row seat of the gleam coming off his little gummy teeth. Not to mention the warmth that’s seeping off him into what feels like every inch of you. You like this position, you decide.

“I really haven’t had that much to drink,” you say, voice quieter.

“You said howdy,” he says, as if that’s a point to argue the opposite.

“I’m in character.”

“Hum. You weren’t saying that earlier. When you were sober.”

“Well maybe I just feel more comfortable now.”

“Your eyes are awfully big too.”

You flutter your lashes as if that’ll help, Yoongi’s smile twitches in amusement. “I’m having a good time. My eyes go big when I’m having fun. Maybe you should try it some time.”

He hums, the noise going right through you. You find yourself looking down at his lips. They look so close, so pink. When did they get that close? Has he been leaning in or have you been unconsciously pushing up into him? You’re not sure and you’re not sure you care enough to think too much about it right now.

Realising you’ve been looking at his lips for longer than you should you look up at his eyes and see he’s caught you staring that entire time and decided not to saying anything. You clench your teeth, a nerve in your jaw ticking. You think Yoongi moves a centimetre closer. Your heart stutters and then continues beating at twice the speed.

“You guys are gross.”

You pull away from Yoongi as if caught in a compromising position. Yoongi’s hand twitches on your hip, making sure you don’t go too far, keeping you right where you are. It’s nice that he doesn’t let you go, that he feels comfortable enough to be stood with you in his arms with all your friends around. And if you were thinking about any of this, you’d realise how much it says that you stay there too, that you don’t push out his arms, that you feel comfortable there too. Not long ago you wouldn’t have reacted the same.

Still, you shoot your eyes in the direction of Jimin. You forgot he was there and while he’s looking at you and Yoongi everyone else has at least chosen to start up different conversations around you. Despite Jimin’s words there’s a smile on his face as he looks at the two of you.

“Don’t you have better things to do?” You say flatly, a not-so-subtle hint to get lost.

“Nah,” Jimin states, taking a sip of his drink. “I’m still waiting for my thanks.”

You look up at Yoongi to gage if he has any idea what Jimin is saying. His shoulders lift an inch, he has no idea either. Jimin’s smile is wider when you turn back to him.

He flicks the hand holding his drink between you and Yoongi. “I put you two together. Don’t I deserve a thanks, maybe a drink?”

“You didn’t put us together.”

“I got Yoongi to take you out on that date.”

“Yeah, and if it was down to you, we’d both still be thinking that was all fake.”

“Right, well it’s not my fault you two are idiots. I can only do so much.”

You glare at him. He smiles back as he takes another sip of his drink. Sometimes you wonder why you’re friends with the man.

“If you’re ever come to the pub I’ll treat you to a pint.”

Jimin’s face transforms at Yoongi’s words, he tips his drink in his direction and aims his words at you. “See. I knew I liked Yoongi.”

You fight the eye roll. Fight back the words about Jimin probably only liking him because of the knowledge that he owns a pub and therefore has access to free alcohol.

“Anyway, you two look cute together.”

Though he says it as if it’s a throw away comment it still hits you. You know he means the words and given the way he looks at you over his drink you’d bet he phrased it that way not to scare you. And given the way Yoongi’s hand squeezes your side, you know he’s probably got similar worries about you going through his head. It makes you sad to think they both have the same tip-toe reaction around you.

The wide smile that takes over you face is natural and while it starts pointed at Jimin you turn it to look up at Yoongi. His eyes scrunch at the corners as he looks down at you.

“Thanks,” you say to Jimin even while you look at Yoongi. “I think I might keep him around.”

Yoongi leans towards you again and while you don’t move away from him, his lips fall onto your cheek rather than your lips. You never took Yoongi to be a fan of PDA and while all of this isn’t much, you’d have thought he wouldn’t even be a fan of holding hands in public.

“I agree with Jimin, you two are cute.”

Your head falls onto Yoongi’s chest as you look back at the group, other’s turning back into the conversation now. Most of them smiling in your direction. You feel Yoongi’s laugh as you try and hide away in his chest at the sudden attention.

The conversation only stays on you for a second before it moves onto other trivial things. You laugh along with everyone, sip at your drink as you remain plastered to Yoongi’s side. You look up at him from time to time, the smile never slipping from your lips. He looks down at you sometimes, others his gaze focused on whoever is talking. This close, you just appreciate his features, his smooth skin, his little button nose, those pink lips that you just want to keep kissing.

It's when you’ve finished your drink and look up at him that he looks down at you with an eyebrow raised. You don’t shy away from it, just smile up at him.

“You about done?”

You shake your head because you could look at him forever and never be done looking. The alcohol is helping you be so brash, but you also realise that you feel so comfortable here with him, in his arms despite the audience.

Yoongi just looks at you with amusement.

“I think we should get you home.”

You look at him with an over exaggerated pout on your lips. Yoongi just looks between your eyes and lips with a smile.

“But we haven’t even danced yet.”

He laughs. “Then we definitely need to go.”

Despite your complaints, you hardly raise a fuss when Yoongi takes your hand in his and nudges you to say your goodbyes. And while your friends give similar moans about how you should stay longer, none of them push too hard. When it comes to it, they can all see how happy and comfortable you are. And maybe, you’re finally realising the same.

Hand in hand, wide smile never leaving your face, Yoongi walks you home.

Taglist:

@minyoongiboongi @kookiecrumb @shydestinyyouth @minimoni7 @dopedreamfireparty @ilyk00 @hobiicores @here4btsfics @highly-functioning-mitochondria @ajw05 @xuxibelle @seoqity @jjksaveme @squakadoodledoo @jiminandhislostjams @rumpucis @bbsantc @likeshatteredrainbowglass @zae007live @mama-miss-shunshine @chaotic-floral @cowboylikevicky @yoonallthetime @feeling-woozi​ @neongreenlaces @jimilter @is-it-sander-oclock-yet @majamarantha @nuniah @sunshinerainbowsbts @driftapart

[heytemporary]

Chapter 9 Highlights

///

>“I’m sorry.” Nanami felt fatigue sweep through him, anticipating Tiana’s next words as he immediately gripped her hands into his. “I’m sorry, I am. Really.” His eyes searched for hers. “Please…just don’t…” He sounded so pathetic, like a beggar on the chilly winter streets of Shibuya, and Tiana’s heart swayed like a nimble branch in the wind.

Got the man wrapped around her finger crying like a dog 😭 damn boy. But aweee I feel bad for the two

>“No more special favors. Or treatments that may be interpreted as special favors. Treat me like everyone else.” Tiana squeezed his hands as reassurance that she wasn’t angry anymore. She was a bit torn. She wanted Nanami to care for her in his own way, that’s where she screwed up before. But even still, there were limitations and boundaries that shouldn’t be crossed.

Possessive / Protective!Nanami AU be like: Hmm, Hmm, let me just nod and pretend to agree while I’m planning the next 48 ways to spoil her.

>When Nanami’s breath tickled the tips of Tiana’s ear, scorching it, she suddenly realized where she was and who she was. As quick as a bullet, she straightened herself out, the back of her head butting into Nanami’s chin so hard that his neck was thrown backwards.

DOINK!

>. What she really needed was some- “Water.” She practically yelled, causing Nanami to jolt. “Water?” He repeats looking down at her “Water. I need it.” She said sitting up abruptly as Nanami’s arm limply fell back to his lap. “I’m kind of thirsty, are you thirsty?”)

Oh Tiana’s thirsty alright….but then I’d argue Nanami’s also hungry. A meal deal indeed

>Nanami’s face was stone cold as he glared at the TV trying to withhold his laughter, unbeknownst to Tiana of course.

HELP THIS IS HOW I IMAGINE NANAMIS FACE TO BE: 🗿🗿🗿🗿 And I rarely say these type of things but hes probably mogging

>“That…” Tiana felt her own jaw ache from how slack it hung on her face from Nanami selling the food’s taste so well, “looks so good…” “I told you to order what you wanted.” Nanami hums as he takes another bite. “I know, I know, but…” She pouted a bit, eying her soup. Suddenly, it didn’t seem as appetizing. It looked inferior. “Just…one bite…” She leans forward, inching closer to his plate. Nanami looks at her with feigned indignation.

AWEEEEE SO THEY ARE DATING!! YESS!! YESS!! YEEESSSSSS

>With that, Tiana becomes hyper-aware of their points of contact. How his leg was positioned behind hers, causing her to feel his knee prodding her body. The way her butt pressed into his hip, narrowly missing the front of his body by a centimeters. How her shoulder rested on his chest, a steady rhythm coming from it, compared to hers which was threatening to erupt from her chest.

OOOUUU 👀👀👀👀👀NOW WHAT DO WE HAVE HERE???

>Today, she thought. Today I’ll be normal. I won’t be weird. Her door clicks open, and she jolts as Nanami stands there with a raised brow. “I kept calling your phone?” He said, his voice a bit concerned. “You still need more time?” “No, no…” Tiana blushes, fixing her discarded throw pillows and then smoothing her hair which definitely looked wild from rolling around.

GIRL STOP TRYING TO FIGHT IT!! STOOOOP

>But when Nanami flipped the hospital lights on, she twisted her lips.Everything was gray.

The walls? Gray. The furniture? Gray. The counters of his kitchen? Granite. The only other color was the accents of black; picture frames, nobs, handles, and some floating shelves that had books with spines that were…gray.

Oh lord. Bring that Mr.Logic man some goddamn colour. The way how youre describing his house you’d think Tianas being transported to a psych ward. JKJK its his preference who am I to judge lol

>Tiana growing up was labeled as a nosy child, a little girl who was always in the midst of grown folks conversations. But even now after being given permission to snoop, she tried to keep it in check.)

Heeheehee I can almost imagine that

>She caught a whiff of incense, and it tickled her nose. She hesitated, tiptoeing closer. She didn’t know why, but something told her not to disturb that place, so she trotted up the stairs after a moment.)

Maybe a shrine of some sorts? A homage to his deceased loved one? Ill admit I dont watch JJK but I do know he used to have a bestfriend that died in some battle at a young age I think

>It's a shrine.” Nanami speaks so quickly that Tiana barely catches it.

Just got on this part. I knew it! Bless his heart man

>”I’ve never been a religious person.” Nanami sighs. “The one thing everyone who has ever lived has in common is that we will all eventually meet our end. Death doesn’t play favorites when it comes to that, and he can’t be cheated. He doesn’t favor a specific denomination, so it’s shed along with the flesh. We can’t hold onto either in death.”

Damn, harsh but I respect his way of viewing death. (Quick side note as a non practicing spiritualist I find myself being more empathetic with atheists and satanists view on life.). I wonder what you headcanon Tiana to be. Agnostic perhaps?

>The size of an inflated basketball but holding the weight of a growing child and her immeasurable guilt. “Three months.” She whispered, dabbing at her eyes. “Just three more months.”

Aweee Charlottee. Please do tell Tiana :((

TO THE READERS OF MISTY

If you have been keeping up with my Tianami Fic MISTY (AND YOU SHOULD BE, NO PRESSURE THO), please take the time to vote. I am having a bit of a battle on where I want the story to go, so a certain situation will now be put in your hands. You are responsible for Tianami's fate. Don't worry about what the numbers mean! Heh heh...

Tianami drabbles are also otw. Could be read as standalone or fic-continuations.

Lastly, please feel free to ask questions about the fic or the world they reside in. I will be answering them soon enough.

Thank you all for the support! Enjoy the new chapter!

[killemwithkawaii]

I've been a silent fan of Sally Face since it came out but I recently got into the fandom! I find your art so cute. Also, I'm just doing what your pinned post says!

I just want to write a pile of love-letters (no name is given but we all know it's about him based on the description) for Sal, put them all in a box and conveniently leave them out there in the open for him to find. He got himself a secret admirer 💌💕

I'm so bad with my words and actions, anonymous writing is how I can express myself better. ;;;;

- 🫀💌

>Welcome to the fandom!! It's always great to bring a new Sally Simp into the fold (especially ones with a taste for the yan >:3c)

>Imagine the mixed emotions he'd feel when he discovers that box (which he would absolutely get into, because while he claims he respects others privacy, we all know he can't resist the temptation of snooping for long)- guilt (and excitement) about reading such intimate content without permission, denial about the letters being about him (despite them clearly describing him in explicit detail. How many other pigtail-wearing, blue-haired masked men live in Nockfell, anyway…?), the sinking, prickling feeling when he considers this might be an elaborate prank at his expense, and the giddy, floaty feeling when he considers it all might be one big, genuine confession… 💌💬

>And now imagine watching him read every letter, go through that emotional rollercoaster, and then carefully packing up the box to take home with him (from a safe distance). 👀🍿💕

>His insecurities might get the best of him, no matter how romantic (or explicit) the letters are, so be sure to continue to reinforce the sincerity of the 'secret admirer' routine by leaving more clues, notes and gifts! A smart guy like him can only deny your feelings for so long…~ ;3c 🎁💘

[You can find some adorable art by @chimchiri based on this imagine here]

[sighfineillcomeback]

In Color (First Hero x Reader Part 1)

I blame @my-insanity-is-an-artform and @lu-twilights-pup for my new obsession with this hero.

“If it looks like we were scared to death, like a couple of kids trying to save each other, you should have seen it in color,” You said to the first hero. Who, to his credit, looked guilty about having been caught snooping, not that you minded him taking wandering your house. After all, you’d had your fair share of sleepless nights. It came with the territory when you fought the big bad.

“I apologize; I shouldn’t have been wandering in your home without your permission.” First seemed so sincere that even if you had been mad, you wouldn’t have stayed that way. “It’s fine,” You said with a shrug. It’s not like you went digging through my drawers or anything, and besides, I wouldn’t have hung it up if I didn’t want people seeing it,” You said before turning to look at the picture in question.

Your Link had his arm slung around you; it was as much for warmth as it was the picture. Sometimes it still felt like you were their sharing body heat in that cold inn. “We took that on his fourteen birthday,” You placed your hand over the fallen hero’s cheek, the cold glass keeping you apart but protecting his likeness from the world. “You can’t see it, but that was the coldest winter in living memory.” The camera couldn’t pick up red ears or how your breath fogged even though you were standing in front of the inn’s hearth. Yet somehow, it had managed to capture the bone-deep fear that permeated every moment of your lives from the moment everything went wrong until Ganon’s defeat.

Because of that fear, the two of you almost didn’t celebrate Link’s birthday, but then you’d gotten snowed in and decided to take it as a sign. You’re still glad you did because a warm meal and good company hadn’t been much, but it’d given you two the moral boost you’d needed to make the final push.

More selfishly, it’d given you one last memory of his smile. “He died only a week later.” Your hand drifted down to where Ganon had struck the killing blow. “It took three days for him to succumb to his wounds.” Three days where you couldn’t even move him or go to get help unless you wanted to cut your Link’s dwindling time short or worse, leave him to die alone.

“At least he took the bastard down with him.” That had been your only solace in the years that followed the seemingly endless days and nights you’d held his hand and talked about the future you’d never get to have.

You talked about growing up and growing old, getting married, teaching your kids the way of the sword. You’d done your best to give him as much of a life as you could in three days, but it was a bitter comfort; you’d rather have had him with you.

Glancing over at First, you wondered who he’d lost for his eyes to glaze over with unshed tears. “I knew someone once who said that it was better to love someone and lose them than to have never met them at all,” First took a moment to center himself before continuing. “But sometimes, I wonder if it was worth the pain.” The blankness in his voice didn’t match the look of heartbreak in his eyes.

“I think it was, sure my Link’s gone now, but my life was a lot brighter for having known him.”

***

First knew, nobody stayed dead. Eventually, everyone came back; that was a truth he’d seen time and time again on his journey with the rest of the chain. Yet it was a bitter shock to see you because the last time First looked into eyes like yours had been when he’d discovered his guiding star stabbed in his chambers. First’s scream had been what alerted the rest of the guard to that awful scene.

First had felt his heart try to evacuate his chest when you’d placed a blade against the veteran’s throat and demanded to know who they were, and for a heartbreaking moment, it was like being sent back in time.

All First had been able to see was his lover’s warm red blood spilling out over his hands as he desperately begged them not to leave him. First had only been able to shake himself out of that memory because he knew his lover hadn’t been a fighter.

They’d hated causing pain but found peace in mending it. Though First wondered if maybe they had been, then they wouldn’t have died, and he wouldn’t have been through in jail for their murder.

First was ashamed to admit that there had been a time he’d blamed his lover for what happened to him after. First hated himself for it, even though, looking back on it now, he knew that it had mostly been the grief talking because he’d never stopped loving them. So when his anger waned, he realized how foolish it was to blame them. After all, they’d been the ultimate victim in the situation, they’d lost their life, and he’d eventually been freed.

Looking at you now, some of that old pain eased just a bit, but hearing your own grief broke his heart in a new way. He doubted you could have done anything in any life to deserve this kind of pain, but Hylia had never cared if anyone deserved what she put them through, only whether or not they could fulfill their purpose.

“Mind helping me cover up the furniture?” You asked, and First was grateful for the distraction, any more thoughts about the past, and he’d start spiraling, trying to figure out if there had been anything he could have done to stop what happened. Anything he should have done. Something to do with his hands had been more than welcome.

“The two of you were methodical as you moved through the house, draping white sheets over anything that would be too difficult to clean when you returned later. If you returned, the pessimist in him thought. After all, there was no guarantee that they’d all make it out of this alive, he’d nearly died in his last adventurer, and apparently, the hero from this world Had died.

Before speaking, you gave one last look at everything eye’s lingering over the photo that’d started it all. “We should probably get some sleep before morning.” You were probably right; apparently, that was one thing that didn’t change between lives. Nodding, he went up to the spare room you’d loaned the group for the night.

Creeping between his sword bothers, First prepared himself for a few hours of restless sleep before it would be time to rise; because as much as he dreaded the nightmares he knew would come, he still needed to be at his best.

***

When morning came, First couldn’t say he was surprised to see you up and ready to go; you were a hero like the rest of them. You didn’t need to be a Link to prove that. Then again, maybe that made you more of a hero; because you’d never had any divine calling, you’d just seen something wrong and did what you could to fix it, and First couldn’t help but admire that type of determination.

First nodded to you in greeting as he walked over to the breakfast you must have prepared after sending him to bed. It seemed that you hadn’t followed your own advice, which bugged him a little, but he couldn’t say anything without revealing his sleepless night to the rest of the group. Besides, you weren’t his lover, First reminded himself, he might have had the right to lightly scold his guiding star, but he had no such sway over you no matter how much you looked like them.

***

After breakfast, you announced that you would have to make a quick stop in town to let the people know you were leaving since many of the villagers depended on you to keep the monsters away. One of those people was the village chief, who’d never bothered instituting a town guard; he’d just expected you to do it until you died.

“No. If you go, there’s going to be no one to protect the village,” The old man barked as he loomed over you, as if that would be enough to scare you into backing down. You’d never understood why he always thought he could bully you. You’d fought the manifestation of evil itself; what was one old man compared to that?

“You seem to think I’m asking for your permission, your uselessness. I’m just giving you a heads-up because if we don’t resolve this issue, the village could be facing a lot worse than a few stray bokoblins,” You said before you turned on your heel and marched out the doors. The rest of the group followed behind after a moment of stunned silence.

First was surprised when you chose to fall in line with him out of all the options you had available. “So, did you sleep ok last night?” You asked causally. Your tone was soft, likely to keep his sword brothers from becoming too curious.

“As well as I could, I suppose, though I wonder if I could ask you the same?” First glanced at you from the corner of his eye to make sure his comment hadn’t been too out of hand, and to his relief, you seemed amused.

“Fair enough,” You said with unmistakable playfulness; you opened your mouth to say something else but were interrupted.

“Hey,” Wind called, announcing his presence as he strolled up from behind. “Do you always talk to important people like that?” He asked mischievously.

“Only when they deserve it,” You said with a giggle, returning the pirate’s grin.

Goddesses, your laughter was pretty in this life too. It was different than it had been, but if you didn’t stop, First would fall in love all over again, and he wasn’t sure he’d be able to take losing someone like that again.

First knew he needed to keep his distance, or he might never recover from the familiar fluttering in his stomatic.

Part 2

[smolla-than-a-bug]

core memories

sano shinichiro x reader

for @myakkun’s event !

shinichiro has a secret, and with a friendship where a childhood pact bound you to walking through all bouts of life together, will it be one he can keep from you?

navi | tokrev m.list | event m.list

content — fem!reader, fluff (shinichiro is so sappy i could cry), past! childhood friends to lovers, established relationship, non canon compliant

notes — 2.9k wc. this came so late im so sorry hjsdhjsk i missed writing for shinichiro <3

Shinichiro swore to himself he would keep it quiet. He'd zip his slender fingers across lip, lock it, and flick away the invisible key, never to look in that direction again. Ask him anything, and he knows nothing. Absolutely nobody—not a single soul—can know, or it would take a neck-breaking swing at what dignity he has left.

See, Sano Shinichiro owns a diary. He writes in this slightly aged notebook he bought some time ago but never really found any use for until now, and he’s quite proud of the number of pages, back to back, he’s been able to fill up over the years. But who even keeps a diary anymore? What teenage boy logs the exact date and time on the corner of a blank page and fills it up with his raging thoughts about happenings throughout his day, only to leave it vulnerable in his desk drawer for any creepers to snoop on? Shinichiro doesn’t know anyone who would willingly admit to owning a personal diary, and perhaps it was for the exact same reason in his mind for not telling anyone about his: To lessen the chances of curious folk to read it without his permission. God forbid his own friends and siblings—them especially—find out about it; he’s sure they wouldn’t let up until they’ve read each and every page, and what is a diary if not the biggest piece of blackmail for anyone to have against him?

What started out as an impulse decision to silently scream at inanimate objects through ink on paper quickly became a routine for Shinichiro whenever he felt he needed an outlet. At the end of the day, after putting his siblings to bed and bidding grandpa goodnight, he’d hole himself in the room, sure to click the lock and shut the lights off so his family is convinced he’s off to bed, before quietly pulling the chair at his desk. An open notebook and a pen sit in front of him, and an old desk lamp serves as the single companion to his unrestrained mind.

What started out as an impulse decision to silently scream at inanimate objects through ink on paper quickly became a routine for Shinichiro whenever he felt he needed an outlet. At the end of the day, after putting his siblings to bed and bidding grandpa goodnight, he’d hole himself in the room, sure to click the lock and shut the lights off so his family is convinced he’s off to bed, before quietly pulling the chair at his desk. An open notebook and a pen sit in front of him, and an old desk lamp serves as the single companion to his unrestrained mind.

Despite the dust collecting in the old lamp’s crevices, the nearly rubbed-off paint of the on/off switch, and the dimming lightbulb (Shinichiro notes that he should probably replace it soon, though he knows he’ll most likely wind up pushing the task back until the bulb dies out completely.), it seemed to be a sort of guiding light for the jumbled mess that is Shinichiro’s brain. It would watch over him as he’d scribble everything that came to mind, hunched over the table, and when he was feeling lost or conflicted, a long and hard stare at the lamp would be enough for him to clear his mind and take each train of thought one section at a time.

He never felt the need to hide his chicken scratched words with his arm before he'd finish jotting down everything he needed to get out of his system, entirely comfortable expressing himself in his own space. He'd finish in the wee early hours of the morning, and he'd look at the lamp as though it had given him a smile of approval or a pat on the back. "Tomorrow again," it seemed to say, before he'd switch it off and pass out beneath the covers.

It all began on the infamous Night To Remember that every high schooler looks forward to. While everyone in his grade was probably already undergoing the traditional pre-prom photoshoot at that exact hour, courtesy of overexcited parents, Shinichiro remained seated at the edge of his bed, elbows on his knees and hands clasped together, in the middle of a serious conversation with a nick in his wall about whether or not he should still bother putting on the only nice suit he had laid out on his bed right beside him.

He'd been too late to pop the question. Someone other than himself had beaten him to the punch, and it left him questioning whether or not it was still worth it to even attend the event if he wouldn't be with you. His best friend.

His one and only.

A knock on the door interrupted the heating debate between him and his wall. "Leave now or you'll be late," came his grandpa's voice from the other side. Then, the sound of footfalls faded into silence once again.

He was right. Hours had passed and Shinichiro hadn't moved an inch from his position. The most he'd done in all that time was silently argue with his wall about why he should just hide under his blanket and watch sad romance movies whose endings make you sob into an empty tub of ice cream. The damned wall wouldn't let up though, because it brought up a very good piece of evidence that deteriorated Shinichiro's entire will to fight.

You're going, right? I can't go alone, you have to be there with me!, is what you had told him. Shinichiro reminded you that you'd be the farthest thing from alone, but you gave him a look. It's one that says 'I can't do this without you,' and he knows exactly what you meant, having expressed the same sentiment many times before but in very different context.

Your date ended up ditching you for your friend that night, which was really annoying because he saw how excited you were. He was there to see how happy you were to have experienced being asked, but your date wound up breaking your heart—you deserved better than that. He did what any rational person would do; he punched him. He punched the goddamn asshole that decided to walk over you without a second thought, knowing full well that the other guy was much bigger and much stronger than he was. Then, the present chaperones who witnessed the scene had Shinichiro escorted out.

You accompanied him, claiming you didn’t even want to be there anymore. Your night was ruined before it had even begun, but Shinichiro couldn’t let you end the night like that. Not when you were looking forward to it so much. So, he sat you on the back of his bike and drove you out to the nearest pier, where he knew there was a carnival still set up. He tried not to focus on how comfortable he felt with your arms wound around his waist. He tried not to focus on how natural it felt letting you intertwine your fingers, pulling him around the carnival to whatever attraction caught your eye.

When he got home that night, he had the most wispy smile. It didn’t dare leave his face until he flopped on his bed, still dreaming of your touch. Only when he began recounting the events of the night, reliving every single moment of it, did he become overwhelmed with emotions once again, and he didn’t know what to do with himself. He shot out of bed, pacing the floor with an uncontrollable grin plastered on his face, feeling every part of himself wanting to scream, but he couldn’t wake everyone up unless he wanted to get chased out of his own home. Thus began his pre-bedtime ritual of condensing his feelings into words and preserving them within the lines of his well-loved notebook.

Now at 27 years of age, Sano Shinichiro struggles to find someplace he can keep such a cherished item. He walks around the faintly lit room looking for a potential spot, avoiding all the untouched boxes with the notebook pinned under his arm. He needs it somewhere easily accessible, somewhere not too obvious, somewhere—

He glances over at the bed, where you’re seated against the headboard, favorite book in hand. The sight makes him stop in his place. What was he trying to hide himself from this time? You’re not his grandpa, you’re not Mikey or Emma, or just anyone. You’re you—Shinichiro’s best friend, someone he believes to be his very own soulmate. (Call him childish for believing in the concept of fated love, but he takes it in stride, knowing the one for him would only ever be you.) During times like these, he’s reminded that marrying you had been the best decision he’d ever made, granted you hadn’t been married long.

The first few days of your marriage had been spent moving into your new shared home, and in the dimness of your shared bedroom, where Shinichiro had previously been looking for someplace secret to stash his old diary, he quickly realizes that his safest bet would be you. His legs carry him to the bed before he can even think about what he’s doing. Before he knows it, he’s already seated smack in the middle of the mattress, facing you with criss crossed legs.

It doesn’t take much for you to acknowledge his presence, but it does take you a moment to process his odd behavior. Your gaze flits over to him, eyes narrowing as you bookmark the last page with your finger. “What are you doing?”

Shinichiro grins. The old notebook he pulls from beneath his arm catches your attention. Its wrinkled pages and obviously worn cover make it look out of place within the newly bought furniture of your home.

“Is this the part where you tell me you’re secretly working to overthrow the government and that that notebook contains all the secrets of the president? You look very suspicious right now, I hope you know that.”

Your husband rolls his eyes, shoving you lightly. “No, idiot…” This is entirely serious. I’m about to pour my entire heart and soul out to you.

Sensing his mood, you turn to put away your book on the nightstand before crawling in front of him, mirroring the way he sits. You don’t force him to get on with it—you never do. You’ve always seemed to trust him to do things in his own time, especially when it’s something that requires a lot of courage out of him. There you sit before him, silently nodding for him to continue. To you, it’s probably just your way of encouraging him, but to him, it’s also how you say that he can trust you. He’s safe with you. A reminder of a pact you’d once committed to as kids that whatever it is, you’d get through it together. So, with his fingers reaching out to intertwine it with yours, he relishes in the familiar feeling of your hand squeezing his.

Quietly, Shinichiro asks, “Do you remember our high school prom?”

He chuckles when you grimace.

Lifting up the notebook, he shows you both sides of the cover. It’s faux leather wrapping is already peeling, and he’ll have to dust it off your covers later on. “I’ve written in this notebook for about ten years now—each entry about you.” He pauses to gauge your reaction, and he feels the tips of his ears heat up. “Earlier, I was looking for a place I could hide it, but then… it suddenly hit me. What’s the point? What good would it do me to hide all the feelings I store for you when you already know I have them? And… I know you said it was okay that I couldn’t give you a gift after our wedding, but maybe this,” he gently places the heavy notebook in your lap, “will do for now.” His clammy fingers begin fiddling with yours, all previous confidence melting away the longer you stare at it. “I know it’s not much, but I was hoping that—”

“Why?”

Shinichiro had to make sure he heard you right. “Well…” He didn’t know what to make of your reaction (or rather, the lack thereof), but when you squeeze his hand again, he looks between you and the notebook in his other hand before continuing. “I never had anyone to talk about you to. I couldn’t get through the house without Mikey saying we were gross and Emma fighting him off about it, and my friends would only ever make fun of me or stop paying attention completely,” he huffs. “I know they mean well, but I had a lot of feelings and didn’t know what to do with myself. Next thing I know, I had a full rant inscribed on a whole page.

“It started on prom night, then the day after when we made fun of your date with a bandage on his nose, then the day I confessed to you, the day I became yours and you became mine, our first anniversary… There were a lot of days when I would just randomly think about you too, and I don’t know, I always felt the need to preserve those thoughts of you so I wrote them down.” He chuckled. “Really, the only important day I’m missing is our wedding day. Since we share a home now, I haven’t had the chance to write on my own.”

You paused Shinichiro by tugging on his hand, leading him to lay on the bed with you before urging him to continue speaking.

He held you close, tucking your head under his chin. “Anyway,” he feels the weight of his notebook where your hand normally places itself on his chest when you cuddle like this. “Would you like to know what I would have written on our wedding day?” He feels you nod against him. “Okay. Dear diary,” he laughs when you snort. “Is it normal to not feel nervous at all? Most people I know get all scared about getting married, not wanting to ruin such a big day or whatever, but me? I just wanted to go home with Y/N.”

Your arms tighten around him.

“I hadn’t seen her all day. I think that might’ve been the loneliest I’ve been since she was way too busy with preparations, and her mom didn’t even let me see her in the bride’s room. Tradition or something, I don’t know.

“When I finally saw her at the end of the aisle though… God. Wow. I have no words. Just thinking about it now is like living through it all over again. I wish I could relive that feeling. After a whole day without contact, and that’s how we meet again? I immediately started sobbing, I didn’t know what to do with myself. Sure, everyone in the church laughed at me, but damn. I really didn’t care what they thought. All I could think in that moment was: How in the hell did I end up as the luckiest man in the universe?”

Staring and talking to his ceiling as though you weren’t even listening made him ramble on and on. Neither of you took note of the time. Only god knows how long you two laid there, you just listening to him talk and talk, preserving all his thoughts in your memory.

He went on about how emotional he was meeting you down the aisle. He described every feeling that washed over him as he said his vows, what he felt listening to yours. He was a whole mess in that church, and he did not shy away from detailing every little reason for it, unashamed that he’s talking about you to you. Somehow, you need to know the extent of his affections for you, and he knows his words won’t do him justice but he hopes you get the message. After the ceremony came the reception, where he was more than ecstatic to experience more firsts with you—first dance as a married couple, first meal, first drink… the list goes on. The reception was also where more tears were shed throughout heartfelt speeches from your loved ones. He wishes grandpa were there to see him; he knows he’d be proud of where he is now. He recounted every single second of the ceremony and reception with the biggest smile on his face, it was as though he could never get tired of talking.

It’s only when he feels a growing patch of wetness on his shirt that he pauses his own speech, looking down to see you attempting to muffle the sound of your sobs with a hand over your mouth. Shinichiro pulls you up with him, wrapping his long arms around you, which you return before fully letting your tears run. “I love you… so much,” you cry into him.

He kisses the top of your head once, twice, then a third time. “I love you more.”

“I don’t deserve you,” you hug him tighter, but he clicks his tongue, pulling you back to soothingly wipe away the tears from your cheeks. “You’re way too good for me.”

“And yet we married, did we not?” He raises his brow before playfully sneaking a kiss from you. “I’ve only ever wanted you, and now that I finally have you, let me prove to you that you’re worth keeping. I can keep this on forever, if you’ll have me.”

He should do this more often, Shinichiro thinks as you launch yourself to kiss him fully. It’s a different feeling than writing it down in his diary for himself to keep. Now, it’s a memory you both share—one you both will look back on later in life, and maybe one you might recount to your children, maybe even to your children’s children. He will never know for sure, but he gets the feeling that your story will be preserved within your family for a long time.

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