#the fed inside my computer

[themaskedsongbird]

Currently writing a fanfic novelizing the original Metal Gear, and it just occurred to me that all the research I'm doing to keep the weapons, tactics, and setting consistent and at least sort of realistic (well, realistic for Metal Gear, anyway) might have put me on an NSA watchlist somewhere for all the times I've googled questions like, "what's the caliber, original date of manufacture, and maximum range of x weapon?" or "how might a guerilla fighter combat y vehicle type without getting killed?" or "how big is this type of explosive and how is it triggered?" All of these questions being right alongside more benign stuff like "common South African boy/girl names," "CIA activities of the 1960s, 70s, and 80s," "geopolitics of the 1990s," "mercenary groups active in 20th century Africa", and "map of the Czech Republic/Iran/Wisconsin/Great Lakes/insert placename here."

It kind of makes me wonder how many authors and screenwriters have asked sus questions on the internet for research purposes and how many of them might be on government watch lists for it? Lol

[glitchedember]

Hiya!

So we all know that AI generators like Midjourney, Stable Diffusion, DALL.E, Sora.AI, etc. have stolen the work from artists online to train their AI and since AI is starting to get quite scary, I've decided I'm going to start protecting my work via Nightshade, but I want to also talk about it with you and link to the official sites to Glaze and Nightshade, so you can get either of these programs to try.

First off, we'll start with Glaze AI.

What Glaze aims to do is to act on the defensive against AI. Glaze will scramble their generators by placing a “protective glaze” over your work, and what this will do, is when your work is fed into the AI, it'll trick the AI into thinking your work is something entirely different from what it is, simply by making small changes that only the AI will pick up on

To quote the official site “Glaze is a system designed to protect human artists by disrupting style mimicry. At a high level, Glaze works by understanding the AI models that are training on human art, and using machine learning algorithms, computing a set of minimal changes to artworks, such that it appears unchanged to human eyes, but appears to AI models like a dramatically different art style.”

I've tried using Glaze, but it's a very big program and my computer can't handle that, but I do highly recommend trying it out if you have the space for it.

If you wanna try it out, the link to the site can be found here.

Second is Nightshade.

Nightshade is aimed to “attack” the AI your work is being fed into. Like Glaze, Nightshade puts a protective “glaze” over your work, but it poisons your work and tricks the AI into messing up the user's prompt.

To quote the official site “Nightshade works similarly as Glaze, but instead of a defense against style mimicry, it is designed as an offense tool to distort feature representations inside generative AI image models. Like Glaze, Nightshade is computed as a multi-objective optimization that minimizes visible changes to the original image. While human eyes see a shaded image that is largely unchanged from the original, the AI model sees a dramatically different composition in the image.”

This program is also pretty big, but it's what my laptop is able to handle, so from here on out I'll be protecting my work with this. I'll also go back and protect my older works even if it's not as appealing as my newer works.

If you wanna try it out, the link to the site can be found here.

Keep in mind, these are only temporary solutions while we wait for more permanent ones.

But even if it's temporary, it's better than having no protection against the AI bros.

[lychgate]

Echo brain comic?? My beloved?

this one's pretty new and id like to in the least get some segments drawn up if i can

i went balls deep in depth about my personal ideas of Echo's structure and how it works, it has much more writing rn then art lemme get some snippets:

tech and echo begin digging around in his wiring as echo's health has lately began to decline rapidly. Blood transfusions are becoming daily, exhaustion occurs much quicker, and newest to the issues are these seemingly random seizures. They've attempted many outside options at remedying the problem but it was becoming urgently clear that the only way to get answers would be to open up his system and understand exactly how his body operates from the inside out. Echo is mostly on edge because he fears finding the answer that is he's just doomed to die soon, and that his body was in no way sustainable outside of that fridge. He fears the idea of dying so much that he has manic considerations of being put back in some sort of stasis chamber. Death, which he never feared prior to the citadel, but now he's come to be you know uhhh quite traumatized from it. But he also hates the idea of that fridge!! caught between two terrible options, wowie here ill add some more breakdown of that in a read more if anyone is interested in paragraphs of bullshit:

as for a brief descriptor on the shit on his head and body, from this paragraph:

Tech: these rivets across your skull are not simple ports one can just plug into. They're a very unique structure, containing an extremely delicate, but long system of thin metallic fibers wiring throughout your brain. These 'rivets' then act as anchors to those metal fibers, which then respond to very specific electric signals that we can access at the nodes on the surface here. If the signals sent are not exact. Well. Echo: yeah I get it I get it.

and some write up on how Tech begins to diagnose the problem:

Eventually Tech will find his way into deeper functions of the brain, finding shortcuts that were already developed by the Techno Union scientists for the sake of their own equipment likely. Categorized sections for monitoring all sorts of chemicals and levels within Echo's body, most of which were left on an automatic function to regulate.

Tech begins to understand that the key issue is that this program, and these automatic functions, were fitted for exactly the stasis chamber Echo had been put in, and if they want to begin fixing Echos phsyical body, he would have to start going in and coding line for line, functions that pertain to the body on a sustainability outside that fridge. Some functions were completely turned off, being that Echo was getting fed certain synthesized chemicals thru the machine, his brain had to be telling itself NOT to produce said things naturally.

But it's all very finicky work that requires continuous maintenance and updates, not much unlike a patch update to any other computer program, except this is Echo's life. It's an impossible amount of code to do in any short time frame, and so Tech will begin splicing lines of code from similar organic droids with systems of similar complexity.

They handle these sessions once per week, giving time for Echo's body to catch up and adjust. At first he begins feeling some nausea, his heart rate starts rising, but he insists something feels good about it and urges Tech to keep going. Echo begins to feel warmth back in his body, his mood increases, after about a month hair begins to grow again, muscle mass fills in what once was skeletal limbs, nail beds regain a lively shine. Besides a few errors in updates like over producing a chemical or small bouts of insomnia, everything seems On Course.

and then:

So now we get into the meat of the drama, which is a lot of Echo mania and identity issues:

By this point Tech has outfitted much easier screw on parts so they can go in and out of this program faster (the set up previously was hours of work) so pulling that up he theorizes that he will have to do more then just reverse programs that the Techno Union set up. Tech now believes he'll have to create NEW systems, as the old program appears to be getting corrupted from all of Tech's editing. The seizures are, at this point to their best guess, coming from this. That parts of his brain are literally crashing, and soon he's going to start having more serious issues like bro is gonna just have a massive stroke at some point. Tech points that out all regular voice and Echo is just 'great im back in the mental swamp' Now that Echo's learned that he has corrupted files eating away at his brain, and that the chance of having a massive stroke is like inevitable, he's back to feeling like anxious shit. It doesn't help that this will take Tech a lot of time to figure out. Truthfully he's putting as much effort as he can into it, but this is when Echo begins to get Really mentally unwell. He's both worrying and also trying NOT to worry out of fear that it's going to complicate the program even more. Echo begins to have identity issues, coming to rely more on the mechanics then the organics that make him. He doesn't feel like a human with robot parts anymore, he feels like a robot with human parts.

and it keeps going like there's parts where echo is begging Tech to up programs on dopamine generation and Tech has to turn him down cause that would just be creating an addiction problem, situations where Echo starts trying to mess with his own brain, situations where he tries to kill Tech, its a lot of rambling but im not a writer, like i can't write for shit and I'd like to try and draw it instead

[blu3-tea]

Gift - G/t

TW: Pet trope, swearing.

Premise: A world in which genetically engineered tinies or Littlins are viewed as pets. Ellen is gifted one on her grandpas' party, as she had graduated the week before.

Word count: 1,352

Note: I'm considering of writing more parts to this.

………………………………

The dining room was livelier than ever. Chittering voices drowned out the clattering of forks and knives ripping through the steak. The smell of her aunt's golden casserole was overpowering. Colourful banners hung from all four walls. Rotund balloons were thrown around the room by her little cousins, across the dining table at times. Her grandpa, who was now a grand 80 years old, would occasionally join in their game, grinning like a schoolboy.

It was very rare for all of the family to gather together at once, so Ellen tried to capture every memory on her cellphone. They almost seemed normal. She showed the pictures she had taken of her grandpa blowing out the birthday candles to her aunt.

"Ellen! Come over here." Her dad called from the other end of the table. As she slid behind the occupied chairs, he placed a large box wrapped in blue wrapping paper in front of him.

"It was my idea." Her grandpa chimed in.

Her parents beckoned her to unwrap the gift right there and then with bright smiles. Her dad boasted about how expensive it was and Ellen in turn had repeatedly explained that she didn't need such expensive gifts.

"But grandpa should be opening his presents tonight."

"This is an exception. Come on! It can't wait."

Ellen felt a fluttering excitement grow in her chest, as she gingerly teared away the wrapping. What kind of computer had they bought her? Was it a monitor instead? Perhaps a jewellery box with the porcelain twirling ballerina inside? With a utility knife she carefully cut through the wide tape at the top of the box. She leaned over the open top. Her smile faded away.

Inside was a small hamster cage. Its floor was covered in spruce shavings. A blue plastic structure with a round roof stood in the corner, from where a tiny face peaked out from. Their eyes met her eyes for a moment, which felt like an eternity. The face disappeared back underneath the plastic.

What the actual fuck.

"Well, what do you think?"

"It's..." she forced a smile on "Wonderful."

"Before you go we'll give you its food."

"Ah... great. Thanks." She hugged them tightly, even though her skin tingled with disgust.

"Won't you take it out?"

"I-" Ellen stammered and glanced at the cage.

No, no, no.

"Yes, of course. I'll, umm, take them somewhere quieter." She shot a worrying glance at her clumsy cousins.

Before her parents could protest, she swiftly picked up the box and carried it upstairs to the spare bedroom. She slammed her door behind her and set the box in front of the nightstand. She kneeled down before it, looming over it.

She had always wanted to adopt a pet, either a dog or a cat. The last one, a goldfish, wasn’t fed whilst she had gone camping. So, when she had returned she found it floating on the water’s surface; her parents had forgotten to feed it. As long as she lived with them she could not have any pets or plants. Now, that she bought her own apartment she daydreamed of having a little furry friend run around the place.

What she never wanted was a littlin. The uncanny human resemblance cringed her. She knew that they were technically human, just shorter. Perhaps it was the sheer size difference that threw her off. Whatever it was that made her fidget with her dress and avoid looking at the box, she had to face it.

Ellen released a shaky breath.

Just do it already Ellen.

With stiff hands, she removed the cage and put it on the nightstand.

"Hello?" She didn't mean for her voice to crack.

A tiny figure marched out from the plastic cover to the centre of the cage. Under the yellow light, Ellen saw a bony girl with untamed, short, curly hair and chocolate coloured eyes as round as buttons. The littlin had to crane her head up to meet her gaze. She greeted her back, showing a toothy smile and placing her hands on her hips.

Ellen couldn't help but scoot a bit further back.

Just why?

………………………………

Finally the cage was taken out. Any more hours left in that darkness and Nelly would have lost her marbles. Just as practiced, she presented herself as best as she could, in the hopes of making a good first impression and getting some food to eat. In her mind she battled the thoughts of hunger. She had to stay attentive for her new owner's commands.

For a couple long seconds the giantess remained silent. Her titanic eyes darted around the cage.

You hate it too? Great. Then for the love of god change it.

Nelly kept her stance friendly as she stared at the giantess, whose eyebrows twitched a bit into a frown, barely enough for a human to notice. She noticed a big lump travel down her throat - she had discreetly gulped.

I'll enjoy her nervousness while it lasts.

It felt somewhat empowering to watch a human struggle to meet her gaze and feel uncomfortable in her minuscule presence without even having to do anything. Every time, however, they turned into the others. She was no exception.

Two minutes had passed and Nelly's hands started to sweat.

What was she waiting for? Did I already fuck it up?

First impressions dictate almost everything. If you’re “good” you’re fed and cleaned right away, even though they toy with you at the same time. The next days they keep coming back, cooing at you to come out. If you’re gifted to children that a completely different story, which she didn’t need to worry about for the first time! That giant was unmarried and single, with no animal pets whatsoever; she heard her parents talk about that as they were strolling about the pet store. She seemed perfect. She would probably leave her alone most of the time and keep her well-fed. To Nelly she had won the lottery.

Just then the giantess turned to the box and dove her hands inside. She frantically rummaged through it, as if she had lost something. Nelly eyed her curiously.

"Is there a return card in here?"

Nelly's face momentarily went blank.

Return? We barely spent five minutes together! What the hell is wrong with her?

She couldn't- she wouldn't return to that hellhole they called a pet store.

"No, there isn't." Her smile returned.

"Does the shop accepts returns?"

"No." She lied. Hopefully, she’s naive enough not to google it.

The giantess crossed her arms and closed her eyes, creasing thin lines around them. Nelly's heartbeat quickened. That was certainly not a good sign.

Would she instead leave her at a park or on the streets? Her mind raced with all the horrors she would encounter if that were the case. Dogs, cats, birds, kids, rain, wind - everything out there can tear her apart.

"Do you mind staying in that cage a bit longer? It's just that there's kids downstairs and uh- you know. The party will be over soon." The woman explained quickly.

"No problem at all!"

Good enough. I might have more opportunities to convince her to keep me. Perhaps I should take on a more talkative approach.

"Alright. Great. I'll be right back." The woman hurried back to the dining room, making sure to silently close the door behind her.

Nelly could still hear the humans' loud voices and music, but at least she wasn't right in there pressing her hands against her ears to muffle the deafening noise.

She limped to the wall of the cage behind her and slumped down against it, her right leg bent close to her chest and her left one outstretched, releasing a sigh of relief. Even though it's been a year, her left leg still screamed with pain every time she moved it. It couldn't be helped. She had to perform for survival.

………………………………

Thank you for reading!

Part 2: click here

[pocarinapyon]

Happy Father's Day to the fathers, to those you consider fathers, and to those who will become fathers! 🤩

Speaking of fathers... 👑/🖥️ Just another random thought about the SAGAU / Reverse Isekai idea I had...

🌶️🌶️ What if the boys found out that they can stay in your world forever if they got you pregnant? Or in the case of the female characters, if they get pregnant? Like... They found some kind of scripture / ancient text / legend / whatever that says something about being able to retain themselves once they sire / bear your children (How many are children we talking about? IDK). Just imagine how eager the boys would be to get you pregnant!! 🤤🥵

So, again with my favourites!!

Starring : Albedo, Alhaitham, Childe, Kaveh (Separate)

Tags / Warnings : 🌶️🌶️ [Chilis] Actual seggs; The boys being obsessed with you; Petnames (if it bothers you); Contains stray cuss words; Usage of potions; A little dramatic in Kaveh's part; 👑/🖥️ [SAGAU/Reverse Isekai] Based on the SAGAU / Reverse Isekai concept linked below but spicy; Concept used if original / glitch varies

Links : Pinned Post, SAGAU/Reverse Isekai original concept, SAGAU/Reverse Isekai glitch concept, Anon's awesome concept about sleepmasks, 🌶️🌶️ JJ version A1(Albedo / Childe / Venti / Zhongli) Separate, 🌶️🌶️ JJ version Venti solo, 🌶️🌶️ JJ version A2 (Albedo / Childe / Venti / Zhongli) GangB., 🌶️🌶️ JJ version B1(Bennett / Diluc / Kaeya / Kazuha) Separate

Target audience is female (bodied) reader.

To whoever is reading, please enjoy.

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

Now just because Albedo was a homunculus doesn't mean he'd stop trying. In fact, he was even more inspired; even more dedicated to create new life inside your womb so he could be with you forever. As an artificial being, would he be able to get you pregnant? He wasn't sure yet but if he wasn't able to, he would find ways or die trying.

When he materialized in your room, he immediately drugged you into a deeper sleep. That way, he could experiment on you all night long without worry of waking you up and dematerializing back to Teyvat. And since he already fed you a slumber potion, why not go far as to give you something for your fertility and libido?

.

"Ahh...! My love, you're taking me so well. That's impressive," Albedo huffed as he pistoned his cock in and out of your abused pussy. "Ah...! Princess...!"

Albedo snapped his hips onto you and released another load of cum deep inside your already full womb. In turn, your slumbering body instinctively milked Albedo's manhood for more.

"Heh... Hehe... You really want it, don't you, my princess? I just love how you tighten around me and squeeze my cock," the alchemist sighed in contentment as he recovered from another orgasm.

"Ah, shit...! More... More! Fuck, you're so tight!" uncharacteristic cuss escaped from the Chalk Prince's lips. It felt so good to be buried deep inside you that the usually calm and poised Chief Alchemist couldn't help it.

White essence had long stained your sheets, an indication that Albedo had been assaulting you for a long time. But he wasn't done, no. He wanted to keep you as his beloved princess and if getting you pregnant was needed for this dream of his to come true, then he would gladly fuck you until your womb is full.

Alhaitham was probably the one who discovered the scriptures. Unfortunately, he was with a certain someone when he found out about the legend. It was a shame he couldn't stop the word from spreading. No worries. You usually keep Alhaitham active in your party so there was an insignificant chance his competitors could materialize in your world and get you pregnant.

Now that he was transported to your world, he must commence his plan. He stoically stared at your computer / Playstation (let's assume that's what you use to play) and carelessly unplugged the device, shutting it down abnormally. This made him glitch and stay in your world but only temporarily. Of course, he'd prefer to be in this state forever which was why he must proceed to the next step of his plan.

.

"Alhaitham, please stop...!!" your tongue was already lolled out while you plead for the virile scribe to be gentler with your wanton pussy.

"Oh? Don't act all shy and reserved now. You're clearly enjoying this because if you didn't-"

Alhaitham paused his movements and chuckled from seeing how your head quickly snapped in his direction. Your glossy eyes begged him to fuck you more and it proved just how much you wanted his cock.

"-well, you wouldn't be tightening around me and creaming all over me, right?"

"H - Haitham, you're being unfair...!" you cried from being on edge. "J - just make me cum already!!"

Alhaitham snickered before pressing onto your erected clit, making you squirm beneath his hard toned body. He did not move and only kept himself buried deep inside you while tinkering your sensitive little nub. The stimulation was enough to make you orgasm and convulse from the pleasure, milking Alhaitham and begging to be filled with his essence.

The Haravatat scholar knew how to push your buttons. Every time you masturbated to him, he observed you and etched in his mind how you wanted to be pleasured.

He also knew this won't stop you from playing Genshin Impact and using him as the main character. In fact, he assumed you would be more inclined to use him. You were a slut for him and giving you a taste of his sex would make you excited for more.

Now, all he had to do was to ensure you carry his child so he could make you his forever.

An interesting hearsay quickly spread across Teyvat. Word was if the active character that materialized in your world got you pregnant, they would be able to live with you in your world forever. Everyone became envious of the people who had the privilege of realizing this legend and one of these blessed people was the Eleventh Fatui Harbinger, Childe.

Childe couldn't help but feel giddily restless. Just the thought of seeing you pregnant and having a family with you made his cock stiffen in excitement. He wanted to knock you up so bad that he planned meticulously just to make sure you became his lovely wife.

.

"Aw, sweetheart. Don't be like that," Childe cooed at you. His hot breath fanned your ear as he whispered words that cajoled you deeper into depravity, "I know you want me to cum inside you. You feel that, right? How my cock twitches inside you and your pussy begs me to paint it white?"

"G - geez...! Fine! Today is a safe day anyway so I guess it's alright," you concurred. You then began to bounce on his cock once more, "Hehe~ Ah~! Make sure to cum tons, okay~?"

"Of course. Anything for you, my wifey," Childe responded in a husky voice.

"Hehe~ I can't believe you're actually letting me ride you on top today!" you chortled while grinding your hips to feel the Harbinger's hard erected manhood against your snug gummy walls. "Uwaaah~ this feels soooo good!"

With your sleepmask on, you failed to see the dark glint in Childe's eyes. He wanted to focus on your pleasure but it was hard to restrain himself from pinning you down and fucking your brains out. Like a bunny, you looked so adorable hopping up and down his cock that he wanted to make a mess out of you. But if it was true that you would have a higher chance of getting pregnant this way, then he would stop himself.

Patience is key as they say. He needed to tame his dark desires for now so he can reap the rewards later - and that reward was being with you forever.

The sappy architect's eyes glistened in delight. You mean there was a way he could stay with you forever? He could do something so that he wouldn't have to endure and make do with holding you in your sleep? If he got you pregnant, you would be his lover forever? What an interesting information indeed!

Kaveh stood in front of your bed, miserably debating whether to do this or not. His conscience ate at him. He loved you - he was obsessed with you - he wanted to be with you forever, but it was wrong to take advantage of you in your sleep. He sighed in agony and flopped beside you. And as if the higher beings heard his plea, your phone suddenly lit up and displayed a low battery alert before disappearing to reveal something interesting.

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

Kaveh smut. Tags: impregnation, cervix kissing, hard-core sex.

He wasn't sure if he could do hard-core but that was all the sign he needed to go with his original plan.

.

"N - nnh... You're so tight...," Kaveh whispered. He slowly dragged his cock deeper and penetrated you. "Mmh... Do you like that?"

Kaveh planted a kiss on your lips. He was being as gentle as he could in fear of waking you up.

"You're so gorgeous; nothing could compare to you. You are the embodiment of all that is beautiful," Kaveh praised you in a soft voice.

He continued to massage your snug walls with his veiny cock. A satisfied sigh escaped his chest when your warmth spasmed and clenched onto his manhood.

"Hehe. It seems you like this as much as I do," Kaveh mentioned with a proud smile.

He made love to you in the most romantic way. You were treated like a queen - a goddess who deserved all the love the world had to offer. Your pleasure was his priority, and he made sure to give every inch of you love and attention.

It was his first time doing this (with) to you, and he would be glad if he could have the chance to do more. All he hoped was for you to accept him should he manage to get you pregnant and stay in your world. After all, you were deprived of the privilege to decide if you wanted him or not.

Three among those four are triple crowned. Can you guess who's not triple crowned?

To whoever read this, thank you for your time. Here, have a pet bun-bun 🐇.

Again, happy father's day!!

Links : Pinned Post, SAGAU/Reverse Isekai original concept, SAGAU/Reverse Isekai glitch concept, Anon's awesome concept about sleepmasks, 🌶️🌶️ JJ version A1(Albedo / Childe / Venti / Zhongli) Separate, 🌶️🌶️ JJ version Venti solo, 🌶️🌶️ JJ version A2 (Albedo / Childe / Venti / Zhongli) GangB., 🌶️🌶️ JJ version B1(Bennett / Diluc / Kaeya / Kazuha) Separate

[redflagshipwriter]

Halfa Cass Chapter 5

“Well, she has survived,” DamiBat said blandly. He had clearly already showered and changed into casual clothes. His robin colors were neatly laid on the usual table. He had been waiting for her. Cass shut the plane door and swooped down to give him a hug.

“You worried,” Cass cooed. She ignored his struggling to get out of her arms. “Very sweet.” 

Damian hissed and tried a nerve strike. She kissed the top of his head and let him escape. 

“Black Bat, report,” demanded the Batdad. His hair was plastered to his head with sweat in the silly way it got inside the cowl. Worried. Fear. Nothing can happen to my baby, not my baby. 

She pranced over to give him a hug as well. He needed to touch her and know that she was real. 

Only when she detached did she consider answering him. “No,” Cass said thoughtfully. “Shower.” 

Batdad unhappily let her go. Cass took the time to get her thoughts into order. 

She did have to say something. 

She changed into comfy clothes and made her way to her computer. Damian had gone upstairs in the interim, and there was no sign of RedJason or Dickiebird. She sat and turned on the screen. Then she turned a stern glare on her family. 

Batdad and Timmybird looked away sheepishly, as if they hadn't meant to stare. 

Cass wrote up a factual report. Arrival time, important parts of conversation with Marvel, the area they had explored and his magical commentary. Then she got to the creepy laboratory. In the corner of her eye, she saw Timmybird tense. 

Cass sighed and spun her chair to face him. 

His shoulders went up guiltily. He meekly reached out and tapped a key. The secret spying of her computer screen ended. “Bad,” she said, because someone had to teach him manners. “Don't look at my screen.”

Tim hunched over a little more. Sorry. Sorry. (Will do it again.) 

Cass let out a heavy sigh and finished her report. She paused over her word choice a few times. 

“You entered an unknown machine, it powered on, and you received an electric shock?” Bruceman Batdad summarized before she had sent him the report.

Cass threw her hands up in disgust. “Stop spying!” She told him. “Stop it!” 

“I'm sorry, I'm sorry honey.” He was sorry. He'd do it again, too. 

Ugh. 

UGH.

“Yes,” black bat confirmed tersely. 

“No lingering symptoms from the shock?” Bruceman Batdad came closer. Hovered. Flap flap, worried bat. “We should do a full check.”

Cass hissed at him, fed up. 

“Master Bruce is correct,” said Alfie. He narrowed his eyes ever so slightly at her. Little Miss, listen now. Caution is the virtue.

She waited until he wasn't looking to roll her eyes. 

There was no sensible reason to escape. She sulked through the examination. 

“Heart rate is normal,” Alfie narrated for their audience. Cass narrowed her eyes. See? See what you've done? Wasted her time, is what you've done. 

“No pain?” Alfie poked and confirmed. Again and again. No, pain, no pain? Always no pain. “Well then,” he sounded very pleased. She blinked to full attention. “You must have done a very good job taking care of that rib, Miss Cassandra. I must admit I anticipated that there would still be soreness.” 

Cass was very still. Then she nodded. 

Uh. 

Um.

She thought about cartwheels. She thought about vaulting down a flight of stairs. 

Hm. 

…Probably her rib should not be totally healed. 

She weighed internally whether this was troubling to her. On the one hand, it seemed very odd. There was pain a few hours ago. Why no pain now? Pain usually left while she slept, not after flying a plane. Could healing be a side effect of magic girl transformation? Big, if true. Should probably tell her adults. 

On the other hand, no pain was objectively an improvement.

Cass decided to say nothing. Maybe Captain Marvel would have a theory. 

Speaking of. When she got back to her room, she sent him a text message. 

🪄 🧙🏻📞?

The answer came near instantly. 

Not yet! 😭 💔 She isn't answering me. Should I contact Constantine, you think?

Huh. Fast response, very good. Cass sent 

😬 

But 

🕵🏽‍♂️ 🤙🏽 🟰 👌🏽

Lol, wrote Captain Marvel. I know what u mean. 

Cass smacked her lips in the quiet of her room. He probably did. But he oughtn't. Old people had a hard time with her communication style. 

Idly, she lined up a theory. 

Captain Marvel had a magical girl transformation. Captain Marvel seemed too young for his body to her. 

Ergo:

He was baby. 

Cass, all of 17, wasn't that pressed about it. Bats and birds usually started flying and fighting as babies. Damian was still extremely baby. But. Hmm. 

Birds weren't in the Justice League. That was the difference: he had to hide it from Batdad, Superguy, and Wonder. 

Oh. Cass put a hand on her heart and frowned. In her dark room there was no one to see it aching in sympathy. 

Baby Captain was… was a little too baby, emotionally, for the Justice League. 

Well. It was decided, then. The next day at breakfast she announced, “Bruce. New rule.” 

Heads swiveled to look at her. 

“We are entitled to make rules for Father?” Damian asked Alfred, sotto voice. He looked intrigued. Alfie made a face that indicated his answer would depend on what rule Cass made.

Bruce lifted an eyebrow at her in prompt. 

“Stop bullying my Marvel,” she commanded. “He’s-” 

She hesitated and edited out the word “baby”.

“sensitive to hostility,” she settled on.

Bruce got a consternated look. “Sweetheart,” he began. 

“Yes,” Alfred said to Damian, voice extremely soft. “Upon occasion.”

“Play nice,” Cass said firmly. No arguments. She took a pointed bite out of her toast. No more need for words. Eat now.

Tim giggled. When Bruce looked at him he lifted his fork in front of his face, as if the slice of pancake was enough to hide that he was laughing at the pater familias.

“If he said that I'm bullying him,” Batdad started, sounding harassed, “then there must have been some misunderstanding. I've never intended-” 

“No misunderstanding,” Cass denied. She narrowed her eyes at him. “I see. I see his body get small when you use the stern Batdad bigman voice.” 

Bruce grumbled into his hand and turned his face away, defeated. Resentment. Insecurity. Do I really do that?

“Yes, Father,” chimed Damian, who loved to kick the defeated. “Surely this fool quakes at the barest hint of your displeasure. But should he not?” 

Alfred huffed a subtle little laugh at the manipulation. He squeezed Damian's shoulder.

Bruce, thinking that Damian approved of his coworkers fearing the Bat, looked even more constipated. Resignation. “I will be careful with my tone around him,” BatDad settled. Sullen. Embarrassed. Resigned.

“Thank you, Daddy,” Cass said cheerfully. She squeezed her eyes when she smiled at him, because she was also baby. He melted, vanilla ice cream in July.

Damian made a solemn nod of respect out of Bruce's line of sight. She winked back her thanks for the assistance. 

Marvel got back to her not long after. Cass took the call outside, so that Bats could not flap nearby without her noticing. 

“Black Bat!’ he said, excited. “I got Constantine!” 

She blinked at her phone. “...In a trap?” 

“What? No,” he dismissed. “I know where he's going to be this afternoon. Can you come meet me?” 

Cass looked back at the house. “...Yes,” she decided. She was off the patrol roster tonight anyway. “Where are we going?” 

“Uhh….” Marvel's voice trailed off for a bit as he clearly consulted his note or phone or something. “I'll send you the address.” 

[separatist-apologist]

The Sweetest Con

Summary: Nesta Archeron has been trapped in witness protection for the past five years, hiding a secret no one can ever learn. All she has to do is wait out the criminals back home determined to punish her and her sisters for a lie they told years before.

She can handle anything- even the new agent sent to keep her safe.

Read on AO3

Five years earlier:

She wasn’t used to Georgia’s humidity. 

Nesta never wanted to get used to it. Standing just outside the little white house that now belonged to her, Nesta wiped sweat from the back of her neck. The town was small—no more than a couple thousand people, if that. No big buildings, no major downtown, and worst of all, no Chinese food. Not unless she wanted to creep closer to Atlanta and given that Nesta’s car was a piece of rusting junk built a full decade before she was born, she doubted she’d make it.

So much for being a hot shot lawyer. 

Nesta dumped her bag just inside the white picket fence, ignoring the peeling paint and splintering wood. It was the kind of place Elain would have thrived in. With a sigh, Nesta turned her back entirely on the overgrown yard and began walking along the only road in the town to the center—aptly named Main Street. 

There was practically no one out. A few older woman walked with looped arms down the sidewalks while a harried mother pushing a stroller made her way toward the only grocery store. Nesta made her way toward the marble carved library, taking the steps one at a time despite the unrelenting sun overhead.

The air inside was ice cold and empty save of two women who were quietly talking to each other. One of them—the red head—clearly worked there given she was behind the desk. The other sat perched on the counter, a book in her lap. They had been clearly talking with some animation though now that Nesta had intruded, the pair stared with wary suspicion.

Nesta hadn’t come to make friends. Lifting her chin with all the haughtiness her mother had instilled in her, Nesta marched toward the shelves lined with fantasy and romance and began reading the jackets. 

She needed a distraction. All she could think about lately was what would happen if Rhysand ever found them. Surely he was irate…he’d be out for blood. They’d flat out lied, pointing the finger straight at the notorious mafioso and the feds, in their eagerness to put him away, had overlooked all the evidence suggesting otherwise.

But Rhysand would know.

And Nesta wanted to forget him. Mobsters lived short lives, besides—in a year, he might be dead and the whole thing over. She could keep herself busy for that long. So long as the library kept books on the shelves, Nesta could find something to do.

She brought them to the front desk where the red head and the dark haired woman waited. “Library card?” The woman’s name tag read Gwyn. 

“No,” Nesta said, fishing out her new drivers license. Agnes Smith. Sure. That sounded real. “Here.”

Gwyn eyed it for a moment. “You don’t look like an Agnes.”

“Tell that to my mom.”

Gwyn began typing on her computer, glancing at Nesta’s ID. “Emerie,” the dark skinned, dark haired woman said with a friendlier smile. “I think you look like an Agnes.” Gwyn rolled her eyes. 

“You should come by the general store,” Emerie added, glancing at the ID for Nesta’s address. “You moved into the old Brandon house.”

“Grizzly murder happened there,” Gwyn said seriously.

“Did not. He died of all old age,” Emerie said quickly. “It’s been run down for a while. I’d be happy to help you out.”

“Do you like women?” Gwyn asked suddenly and bluntly. 

Taken aback, Nesta said, “Um…not really—romantically, anyway.”

Emerie sighed. “It was worth a shot.”

Nesta almost blurted out that she’d still take friends before she thought better of it. No need to be defensive or obsessive. “Where is everyone today?”

“It’s ten am,” Gwyn said.

“They’re at church,” Emerie replied when it was clear Nesta didn’t understand. 

“But not you?” Nesta questioned.

Gwyn handed her ID back, along with a white library card bearing her pretend name. “We aren’t welcome.”

“Why?”

Emerie grimaced while Gwyn scanned Nesta’s book. “They think I’m a homewrecker…and Emerie likes women. Openly.” 

“Fuck them,” Nesta said without thinking. It was the first smile she’d seen from Gwyn—a small, half formed thing, but a smile all the same. “We should start our own religion.”

“That sounds like blasphemy,” Emerie teased.

“It sounds like witchcraft,” Gwyn added, pushing Nesta’s stack of books toward her. “I’m in.”

Which was how Nesta found herself hosting brunch that Sunday with two strangers in a house that didn’t belong to her.

PRESENT:

“Who is that?” Emerie asked, sitting on Nesta’s front porch holding a sweating glass of iced tea. 

“He’s not local at all,” Gwyn agreed, lowering her sunglasses to take a look at the tall, muscular man making his way toward Nesta’s gate. Wearing mirrored shades and a suit that was bursting at the seams, he looked like he was playing dress up as a cop.

His dark, wavy hair half pulled in a bun didn’t seem regulation, for one. But something about him seemed off somehow. 

“He one of yours?” Gwyn questioned. Nesta had long since betrayed the secrecy she’d been sworn to, telling her friends everything but the most critical piece of truth in order to protect Feyre. 

Nesta scratched her ear. No, this man was definitely not one of hers. 

“Want us to stay?” Gwyn asked, likely thinking about the shotgun mounted in the back of her pick-up truck.

“I can handle him,” Nesta assured them. Gwyn and Emerie stood, leaving behind their cups to slip from the yard. Gwyn nodded at the man once, lips pressed into a thin line of disapproval. That left Nesta standing at the top of her porch steps wearing a butter yellow sundress, arms crossed over her chest.

“Ma’am,” he the man began as he approached, his expression unreadable. She waited, watching as he took off his sunglasses only for recognition to slam into her. Oh. She knew this man from pictures.  “My name is Cassian.”

Rhysands right hand man. Nesta didn’t move, unwilling to betray she knew who he was. “What can I do for you, Cassian?”

Not even a fake name? Was he that confident she’d never done one google search? He had a mugshot, had appeared in the papers just enough times for Nesta to recognize him. They called him The Lord of Bloodshed thanks to his rumored job of handling the things Rhysand didn’t want staining his hands or his conscience. 

And that man was standing at the bottom of her steps, armed just beneath his suit jacket. 

“I’m here on behalf of your case,” he said like a pretty liar. 

“Oh? Has something happened?”

“An indictment is coming. I’m to escort you back home once Rhysand has been charged.”

Liar.

Still, there was no reason to call him out on it. If Rhysand had found her, he must be still looking for her sisters. She didn’t believe for a minute he’d found Feyre—his bruiser would have pointed his gun at her by way of greeting had he. No, they were monitoring her.

And Nesta could watch them right back. 

So she smiled, hoping she seemed innocent and sweet. “What a relief,” she lied, stepping to the side so he could come up. “I was starting to think I’d be trapped here forever.”

“Can I come inside?” Cassian asked, looking around her immaculate yard with interest. “It’s hot out here.”

“Better get used to that,” Nesta said, pulling open the screen door so Cassian could get the lay of the land. “Are you staying here?”

“If you don’t mind. The hotel is…”

Roach filled, she knew. People still went, content to carry out their clandestine affairs in filth so long as no one ever found out. 

“I have a spare room,” Nesta told him. Cassian turned back for his own car—a brand new jeep  that was laughably out of place in her little neighborhood. He returned with two bags slung over his broad shoulders, eyes hidden behind his glasses. The sun hit the golden brown of his skin, making it seem as if he glowed and tragically, Nesta thought he was a good looking man.

He’d kill her if she wasn’t careful…but attractive, all the same. 

Nesta showed him to the smaller room she kept made up just in case Gwyn or Emerie wanted to stay the night, thinking the full sized bed didn’t seem big enough for this man. He had to duck beneath the doorway, putting him well over six foot three—maybe six six? He made Nesta, who stood tall at five nine, feel dainty by comparison.

“Should I call you Cassian, or…?”

“Cassian is fine,” he replied, sunglasses resting atop his head. “This is perfect, by the way. I promise you’ll barely know I exist.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Nesta said in a flirty voice as she eyed him. “I think it would be hard not to notice you.” He grinned, unaware that a real agent would have shut her down in seconds. “Well, Miss Agnes, I’ll do my best to keep out of your hair.”

Nesta offered him another smile, mind racing. If she survived tonight she assumed she’d survive as long as he wanted her to—and as long as she didn’t admit she knew what he was. That meant keeping it from Gwyn and Emerie, who wouldn’t be able to stop themselves from treating him like a criminal.

He thought she was prey, but Nesta Archeron was a survivor. A predator, just like this man. And she had lived in Georgia for five years—she had guns hidden all over the house. He didn’t need to know any of that, though. Nesta waited while he unpacked some of his things and peeked around her little house, mostly quiet as he cased her. Sitting on her sofa beneath a ceiling fan moving at top speed, Nesta heard him push open the back door and walk through the yard where she assumed he was testing the gate.

He messed with windows when he returned, pushing back curtains to peer out into the street. “You’re wide open out here,” he finally said with a frown on his pretty face. And he was pretty—sculpted and rough in a way that was hard to ignore. Nesta found herself noticing the green in his hazel eyes and the way stubble clung to his strong jaw. A slit cut through his eyebrow while faint scars littered his jaw and hands, betraying a man who knew his way around a fight. 

He was fooling no one but himself. 

“This is where you put me,” she reminded him, wondering if he understood what she was really saying. 

“Maybe we’ll keep the curtains closed,” Cassian said, as if Nesta didn’t do that anyway. The sun was unforgiving and the only way to survive swampy summers was to try and keep things shady and cool. 

“Do you want to take off your jacket?”

“I want to take everything off,” he admitted, shrugging out of what she had to assume was stolen. “Even my own skin.”

“That’s how I felt when I first got here,” she told him. He’d look back on all this and remember—he’d realize she knew the moment he stepped onto her lawn. “You get used to it.”

She was going to kill him, she realized. The knowledge slammed into Nesta’s chest violently, paralyzing her for a moment. She’d never killed anyone…but at some point she’d have to kill this man before he killed her. Cassian, for his part, was unaware of the slant of her thoughts. He must have already known when he came down that he planned to kill her just as soon as he was given the order. She doubted he intended to take her home…and if he did, it would be under duress. 

That was future Nesta’s problem, though. For now, all she had to do was stay one step ahead of him. And that meant pretending like she believed every word coming out of his mouth and ignored all the obvious signs that he was a liar. 

“Hungry?” she asked. 

“Starving,” Cassian agreed. He vanished into the room she’d given him, leaving Nesta enough time to try and steady her nervous hands. By the time Cassian returned, Nesta was slicing up meat for the grill outside. There was absolutely no way she was turning on her oven.

“Can I help you with that?”

Instinct demanded she say no. She didn’t want Cassian anywhere near lighter fluid, for one. He looked so earnest and she was pretending, so Nesta nodded. “I haven’t seasoned it yet.”

“Leave it to me,” Cassian said with an easy smile. And she did, watching him from the corner of her eye while he seasoned her meat and vegetables. He vanished out the back door and when he returned, sweat glistened over his face. Nesta found herself standing there for a moment, staring as he pulled the rest of his hair off his face, biceps straining against the cuff of his t-shirts. 

Cassian was heavily tattooed with black ink that crawled over his arms and up his neck, broken only by the sweaty shirt he wore. 

“Why do people live like this?” Cassian asked, wiping his brow on his sleeve. “It’s horrible.”

“I keep saying it,” she replied honestly. “I would have preferred a colder climate.”

“Next time,” Cassian grumbled. “What are you doing now?”

“Cutting up fruit. Want some?”

Cassian picked a blueberry out of the bowl and popped it into his mouth. “How do you spend your time, anyway?”

“I’m the town lawyer,” Nesta informed him. “I work in a little office down on Main Street.”

“And when you’re not working?”

She shrugged. “I have friends…but I mostly read.”

He glanced toward her shelves of books in the living room, visible from the hall connecting the two. “Anything interesting?”

“Take a look,” was all Nesta could think to respond. Cassian didn’t take her up on her offer, turning instead to go check on the grilling meat. Had she not known who he was, Nesta might have thought the awkward environment was just because a stranger had invaded her space.

It felt almost normal. 

Almost.

Because Nesta couldn’t forget a killer was sitting across from her, his hands soaked in blood. She kept coming back to it as they ate in relative silence. Why had Rhysand sent him here? What did he want with her? Nesta needed to figure it out.

And figure it out fast.

CASSIAN:

Nesta Archeron was beautiful.

Cassian hadn’t expected it. He’d seen a picture of Feyre only once and had kind of imposed her face on all three Archerons. Walking up to her house had been a surreal experience. For one, all Cassian could see was her tits pressed against the neckline of that sundress she wore. Holy fucking Christ, but Nesta’s body was something out of his most depraved fantasies.

But her eyes were something else. Icy blue and calculated, it was no surprise Nesta had survived five years out mostly on her own. Did she even know her sisters were guarded by federal agents while she was left to fend for herself? 

It irked Cassian. Sure, he was grateful he’d been able to gain access to her life so easily, but surely someone was keeping their eyes on this woman? So the likes of him couldn’t just stroll into her home and do whatever he liked with her? 

But after two days living with Nesta, Cassian learned that no one seemed to care if she lived or died. Which was just as well—because he was starting to care. Just a little, he told himself that second night as he laid in bed staring up at the ceiling fan.

His only job was to get her back to Rhysand in one piece once he’d tracked down Feyre and married her. Nesta wouldn’t even know until it was all too late and the feds would lose their pathetic case.

And then Cassian could go back to his regular life in a place that wasn’t drenched in humidity. How did anyone sleep? Even with Nesta’s air conditioner going at full blast, Cassian found himself shucking off his shirt and kicking the sheets to the floor in a desperate attempt at sleep. 

Thinking the living room might be cooler, Cassian dragged his blanket with him to the couch where he found Nesta, half hidden in the dark with a piece of toast in her hand.

Her little night dress was enough to empty out his mind. Why was she so hot? Cassian could see every curve of her perfect body beneath the silken blue fabric and her hair was loose around her shoulders rather than braided in a crown atop her head.

He wanted to lick the salt off her skin.

He wanted to lick a lot of things, actually.

Cassian was fairly certain federal agents weren’t supposed to have sex with their charges—even if Rhysand was certain Vanserra had something going on with the middle Archeron. Cassian wasn’t anything close to a cop and fucking was his favorite thing to do. 

“I ah..” Cassian rubbed the back of his neck, suddenly hyper aware that all he wore was a pair of loose shorts. Nesta was looking only at his face with a grim determination—as if she found it very difficult to do so.

You can look at any part of me you like.

Having sex with her would certainly pass the time. 

“It’s hot,” Nesta said, flipping on a lamp on the side table. “I keep meaning to get someone out here to look at my AC, but…”

“I’ll look at it,” Cassian promised. “Before the sun comes up.”

“You’re handy?”

He was, actually. “I grew up with a single mom,” he said, flashing her a smile before making his way to the sofa. “We didn’t have a lot of money, so I learned how to do repairs.” Nesta tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. Unwilling to give her a reason to banish him, Cassian made a show of fluffing the couch cushions before stretching himself out. 

“My shower doesn’t have hot water,” she finally told him.

Cassian grinned in the dark. “I can take a look at that, too.”

“I would appreciate it,” Nesta replied. 

“Why don’t you make me a list? I’ve got nothing else to do all day and I feel like a freeloader sitting on your couch.”

That was true. Cassian was used to staying busy and suddenly he had nothing but downtime. It was tempting to go to the library and find his own books to read and treat the entire thing like a vacation. This would help build trust between them, he rationalized.

And Cassian liked having something to do. He liked being useful to people. 

“I could do that,” Nesta said, still standing in his line of sight. Even in the dark, Cassian could see her nipples pointed through the fabric. He wanted to touch them.

“I’m here to help,” Cassian reminded her.

“Of course,” she said, her tone unreadable to him. 

He nearly asked if she wanted to join him. It was on the tip of his tongue, but Nesta beat him to speaking, adding, “Well. Sleep well, Cassian.”

“You too,” he said, disappointment ribboning through him. It was absurd to think a woman like Nesta Archeron was going to crawl in his dirtbag lap.

Still, Cassian could dream. And he did, waking with a throbbing erection he had to discreetly handle in the freezing cold shower. Cassian hadn’t noticed it wasn’t hot given the air was miserable and he didn’t want to take a boiling shower for once. He could hear Nesta in her room listening to music, up with dawn just like he was. 

He found tools out in her garden shed, unused and rusty. They’d likely belonged to the previous tenant, whoever they’d been. Still, they worked well enough for Cassian’s purposes. What she needed was an entirely new unit. Cassian guessed the old one was over a decade long and judging from the rattling, it was on its final legs.

He had money. A lot of money. Would she believe him if he told her the agency had decided to replace it? Nesta didn’t strike him as particularly stupid—if they’d never helped her before, she might not believe they’d help her now. He couldn’t live the way they had been, though, which was how Cassian found himself on the phone with the local repairman giving out his credit card details over the phone.

Nesta was gone by the time Cassian came back into the house, drenched in sweat and slightly sunburned on the tops of his arms. It was a relief to get into the basement and work on the water heater, and by the time Cassian finished, the service guys were there to replace Nesta’s air conditioner. It required them to turn the air off which was actual hell, though once it was back up, Cassian felt instant relief. 

Nesta returned with a scowl on her face, dressed in a pencil skirt that made Cassian’s mouth dry out. How had Archeron managed to create her? Cassian had met him—he was nothing special. An unremarkable man in every way imaginable, including his appearance.

Nesta could have modeled. Could have had her face on billboards, her body in magazines. Had he met her back home, he knew he’d have dogged her steps hoping for just a look in his direction. 

“Any news?” Nesta asked, sliding her keys and purse onto a side table. Cassian watched her kick off her heels and turn her face upwards toward the vents blowing cold air.

“Nope,” he said. What would Rhys do if he kept her here for a year? Kick his ass, likely. “Rough day?”

Holding up a cloth shopping bag, Nesta nodded her head while Cassian rose to take it from her. Inside he found an assortment of peppers, onions, and a rather nice steak he assumed she wanted to grill. Cassian had never grilled before he met her and found that he rather liked it. In fact, he liked the whole little game he was playing. Pretending to be the sort of man who had a house and a wife and a barbeque suited him.

In another life, Cassian would have thrived.

“I’m working on another divorce and her soon to be ex stopped by to tell me what he thought about me.”

“I hope it was to tell you you’re beautiful,” Cassian replied without thinking as he peeled stickers from the vegetables.

“No it wasn’t,” Nesta replied, her tone uncertain. “It was to tell me what a bitch I am.”

Cassian arched a brow. “Did you tell him to get fucked?”

Nesta chuckled. “Not this time…but I wanted to. He thinks if he digs his heels in, he can avoid this divorce but it’s happening either way.”

“This is why I’m not married,” Cassian said, reaching for a knife.

“Oh?” Nesta asked, an amused smile on her perfect face. “Is that the only reason?”

Cassian couldn’t help his grin. “I’m off-putting to women, of course.”

“There it is,” she said with a pretty laugh. “Want any help?”

“Get out of my kitchen, Nes,” Cassian replied, swatting her away. “Water’s fixed, by the way.”

The whole thing was warm and domestic. Nesta thanked him before sauntering off, hips swaying with each step. The only thing to temper Cassian’s hot blood was the hotter grill outside and a reminder that Nesta was off limits to him.

He was merely a guard meant to get her back home before the feds scooped her and her sisters back up again. Collateral, he supposed, for the game Rhys was playing with Feyre. Cassian was grateful for that, at least—if Rhys called him and told him to kill her, he wasn’t certain he could do it. 

Cassian returned to find Nesta in a pair of tiny little shorts and a pink tank top. He wished she’d pull her hair down, still left in its braided crown, though in truth he could have stood at the backdoor and stared at her for an embarrassing length of time.

“What did I say about the kitchen?” he teased, setting his tray of meat and vegetables on the counter beside her.

“I wanted to make a little salad,” Nesta told him, showing him the bowl. “Do you even eat vegetables?”

“On occasion,” Cassian said with an easy grin. “I’ll eat whatever you put in front of me, though. I’m not picky.”

“Tell me about yourself, Cassian,” Nesta ordered once they were seated at her little wooden table. 

“There’s nothing interesting to tell,” he replied. “Why don’t you tell me about yourself? I’ll bet you’re a lot more interesting than I am.”

“Oh, I doubt that,” Nesta murmured.

“C’mon,” Cassian cajoled. Nesta sighed, eyes narrowed with that suspicious look he was growing so fond of. Was there such a thing as love at first sight, he wondered? Cassian was starting to suspect he was under its spell. Under hers, anyway. Nesta relented, telling him little stories he figured were probably half true. 

Cassian knew the right questions to ask, at any rate. Careful not to mention her family, Cassian asked her about everything else. Nesta spoke about going to law school and living in Georgia, mentioning two friends she’d made—Gwyn the librarian and Emerie the grocer. He’d seen them on his porch when he first arrived. 

He needed to do a little digging on them, but he figured they were likely fine. 

“What about you?” Nesta asked, their meal long concluded. Cassian began gathering up dishes.

“What about me?”

“Are you from Georgia?” she questioned.

Cassian chuckled. “No, I’m not from Georgia. Just got unlucky in my assignment, I guess.”

“Why did you want to do this work?”

Cassian considered that. “I’m good at it,” he replied, drumming his fingers along the edge of the sink. “I kind of fell into it, actually. I guess I succumb easily to peer pressure because when one of my friends suggested I apply, I did it without hesitation.”

That wasn’t entirely true. There had been no application process—he and Rhys had become friends as boys and Rhys’s mother had been like a second mother to Cassian. He’d always wanted to repay them for their kindness and when Rhys asked him to join him as his right hand man, the answer had been obvious.

He couldn’t tell Nesta that, though. She didn’t poke, either, seemingly satisfied with his answer. While Cassian cleaned up, Nesta made her way to the living room, picked up a book, and curled up on the couch. Cassian watched her pull a blanket from the back of the sofa and drape it over her tanned knees.

“Cold, huh?” he joked. 

“You fixed—”

A gunshot silenced both of them. Nesta jumped clean out of her skin, book falling from her trembling hands. Cassian frowned, his own heart racing with excitement. Finally, something interesting was happening.

His own gun was in his hand before Nesta ever stood. “Don’t move,” he whispered, motioning for her to get away from the window.

“Send the bitch outside!” a man’s voice yelled, filling Cassian with cold rage. He was at the door in a moment, flinging it open so it was his large body filling the space. On the lawn, a man stumbled forward, gun pointed at the sky. He pulled the trigger again, clearly trying to intimidate Cassian.

Cassian had been tied up before, a gun pressed against his lips while his cock was threatened with a knife. Some fucking rural drunk with a gun didn’t scare him. In truth, very little scared Cassian. He’d cheated death more times than he could count and he knew, as he stepped onto the lawn in the fading daylight, that he wasn’t going to die today.

This man, on the other hand…well. Cassian supposed it would depend on what he did next.

“Lower your weapon!” Cassian barked, his voice rough and menacing. The man jerked to look at him, eyes wide and watery. “Put your gun down or I’ll fucking kill you.”

“Send out your bitch—”

Cassian didn’t shoot him, but he did hit him in the face. Hard. Maybe too hard given the way the man crumpled at his feet as blood poured from his nose. Only the alcohol kept him from passing out which was lucky for Cassian.

Crouching in the grass, Cassian grabbed the man by his thinning hair and forced his head into an unnatural angle. “What did you say?”

“I called her a bitch,” the man spluttered through the blood. 

Cassian cocked his gun with his free hand and pressed it to the man's cheek. “Try again,” he whispered, fully intending on killing this man on the front lawn. Cassian’s finger pressed against the trigger just as Nesta barked, “Cassian!”

He twisted to look at her, arms crossed over her chest. She was fury incarnate right then, marching toward the pair of them without a care in the world. 

“Get out of her, Brent,” Nesta ordered, pointing her finger toward the gate. “This is embarrassing, even for you.”

“You ruined my life—”

“You ruined your own life by cheating on your wife!” Nesta spat without remorse. “And you’re ruining it by assaulting a federal officer.”

Cassian nearly choked. Did he look like a cop right then? 

“He assaulted me,” Brent protested, shoving out of Cassian’s grip.

“If I see you near her again, you’ll find yourself six feet under before you can utter one fucking word. Do we understand each other?” Cassian asked, rising to his full height. Brent glanced from the gun in Cassian’s hand to Cassian himself before offering a sullen nod. 

“Whatever,” he muttered, clearly trying to save face. Cassian watched him stumble off, forcing himself not to pull the trigger anyway at the man’s retreating back. Nesta came to stand beside Cassian, resting her soft, small hand on his forearm.

“That’s the guy getting the divorce,” she told him, as if Cassian cared who he was. Letting someone who threatened him walk away unscathed felt wrong and Cassian longed to rectify it. Where did he live, he wondered? 

“I can see why,” Cassian muttered, turning back for the house. “I’ll sleep on the couch tonight.”

“He’s not coming back—”

“He pointed a gun at you,” Cassian growled, the memory filling him with rage. 

Nesta only shrugged, proving that she was still part of the life whether she wanted to be or not. Did she know what a liar her younger sister was, he wondered? Did Nesta know it had been Feyre who killed her father? Looking at her in the warm light of the house, Cassian decided that a woman like Nesta wouldn’t allow herself to live this way if she hadn’t known. If she wasn’t protecting someone. 

Who was protecting her? 

“I’m fine,” Nesta reminded him. But Cassian knew all too well how differently things could have gone if he hadn’t been there. Cassian knew how quickly a bullet could end things. 

“I’ll feel better out here,” he said, setting his gun on the glass coffee table. “You won’t change my mind, Nes.”

She hesitated, eyes moving from him to the window. “Fine.”

Cassian had no intention of sleeping, though. He waited until he knew Nesta was asleep, slipping into her bedroom just to check. She was so lovely even in sleep and Cassian had to resist the urge to touch her face. Not tonight. Another night, perhaps—but not this night. 

The thing about small towns he found himself appreciating was how easy it was to find people. Slipping into a local bar, Cassian mentioned what had happened to the bartender, who helpfully told him where Brent lived. 

He didn’t bother to slip in quietly. If he wanted to be unnoticed, he would have called up Azriel. Cassian liked when his marks were scared, for whatever that said about him. Flexing his fingers, Cassian picked through the dirty, mostly empty house. He supposed Nesta was helping to clean him out.

Good for her.

Brent was waiting in a fraying brown chair, a bottle of Jack Daniels held loosely in one hand. “Knew you weren’t no cop,” he muttered. “You got the look of a felon.”

“Have you been talking to my third grade teacher?” Cassian asked, his tone light. “She used to say the same thing.”

“You ain’t foolin’ no one but that girl of yours,” Brent told him, eyeing the gun in Cassian’s hand. 

“She’s the only one I need to fool,” Cassain agreed, coming closer. “I swore an oath to protect her.”

“I didn’t hurt her.”

“But you scared her,” Cassian said in that same friendly tone. “You came to her house and threatened her and I can’t stand for that.”

“Well, I don’t really care if I scared her. Sometimes women ought to be a little afraid.”

Cassian clenched his fingers. “Is that so?”

“Make your threats and get the fuck out,” Brent ordered, taking another swig of whiskey. Cassian saw his gun on a chipped side table. 

“You don’t have much going for you, do you Brent? Wife left you, took all your money…is about to take your house. You’ve got no job, no friends…anyone would lose it.”

“Yeah,” Brent mumbled, eyes glassy. “You get it.”

“If I were you, I’d probably kill myself too,” Cassian added, holding Brent’s gun in his hand. Brent’s eyes found him, big and wide with shock. 

“What did you say?”

Cassian shrugged, making his way closer to the inebriated man. “I don’t think anyone will be surprised when they find you. I’ll bet it takes them days before someone comes checking.”

“Look, you don’t have to do this. I can…I can pay you—”

“No you can’t,” Cassian said with a chuckle. “And even if you could, I wouldn’t take your money. This is about honor, of which you have none because an honorable man wouldn’t try and threaten a woman for doing her job.”

“She fucked me over—”

“You fucked yourself,” Cassian interrupted, reaching for Brent’s hair a second time. “And you made a mistake coming after her.”

“I’m sorry—”

Cassian pressed the barrel of the gun beneath Brent’s jaw.

“I know you are,” he said, holding the man’s gaze. “It’s not enough.”

And then he pulled the trigger. The relief he felt was instantaneous, his blood lust slaked. It took another few seconds to arrange the gun in Brent’s hand, letting both his arm and the weapon fall lifelessly into his lap. The bottle of Jack hit the floor with a thud, spilling over stained wood floors.

The scene was practically a work of art. Textbook suicide—no one would look twice at him or Nesta. That didn’t stop him from wiping his prints on the way out, just in case. He found himself back on the couch, face washed of blood, before two am. 

Cassian had been right about one thing: it took them three days to find Brent.

“Suicide,” Nesta said crisply when she learned, eyes focused on Cassian’s face.

He only smiled. 

[killerpancakeburger]

Peace of mind // Miguel O'Hara

Pairing: Miguel O'hara x female reader

Summary: After a long day of tending to the multiverse, Miguel goes to you for some comfort.

Warnings: swearing.

Tags : fluff. That's it.

Words: 733.

A/N: Inspired by @/the-cat-and-the-birdie's post about Miguel's cooking.

You blindly reach inside the bag of chips on your desk without taking your eyes off your computer screen, grab one and eat it. Tonight’s your weekly online meeting with your friends on your favourite online game. You can’t afford to miss a single kill. You have your noise cancelling headphones on and are completely occupied by the things your companions are yelling are at each other and where your aim is.

It’s probably why, despite your usually sharp instincts, you don’t hear the interdimensional portal who opens in your living room. You don’t notice the imposing – yet looking like he’s buckling under an invisible weight – man in a faintly glowing suit who crosses it. You don’t spot him either when he gets behind you.

However you certainly can’t ignore his presence when he bends over your chair, closes his arms around you and lets his forehead fall on your shoulder.

“FUCK! Miguel! Are you trying to give me a heart attack!” you shout in shock.

He mumbles something unintelligible, his mouth pressed to your back. Your surprise has been clearly noticed by your friends as they don’t miss the opportunity to tease you for it. You grumble and mute your microphone.

You ruffle Miguel’s hair, taking the opportunity to mess it up a bit.

“So? Did something happen?”

He sighs and his warm breath tickles your skin.

“Can you please…?” He starts, but never finishes.

“Uh-Uh?”

You’re still playing your game, but way more casually, and even though you’re pretending to still be busy, you’re actually taking in Miguel’s every word.

“You know…”

“No, I don’t. Still can’t read your thoughts.”

“Urgh.”

There’s a part of you that finds this way of speech endearing but there’s an even bigger part of you that enjoys making Miguel works for it.

“…lay down with me for a bit?”

You pat his head in congratulations.

“There we go! Knew you could do it!”

“Stop it.”

He grunts. You turn your mic back on.

“Alright, game’s over for today. See you later”, you announce before logging off and taking off your headphone.

“Can you have a look at the code I wrote for Gizmo n° 564 before we do that?” you ask.

You pull up said code on your screen. Miguel doesn’t raise his head.

“It’s great”, he says.

“You didn’t even look at it”, you retort, slightly annoyed.

“I don’t need to.” He replies with that unsufferable indubitable arrogance of his.

“Oh really now?”

Your voice is dripping with sarcasm.

“You made it so it’s good.”

You roll your eyes but you can’t help being moved.

“I think I prefer when you’re brutally honest.” You mumble to yourself. “Did you eat today?”

His stomach grumbles loud enough for both of you to hear, effectively stopping him from bullshitting you. You chuckle.

“Should I order food?”

He grunts something that you know means no.

“Oh so you want my cooking? I’m so flattered”, you laugh, the both of you pertinently knowing that while he’s great at cooking, you… are not.

He finally gets up.

“Just do as I say.”

You get up, give him the chips from your desk, and head to the kitchen. Since your relationship with Miguel got more serious, aka him crashing at your place whenever he felt like it, there is always tortillas, sour cream and salsa verde in your fridge. You stop halfway realizing Miguel isn’t following and remember he moves like a zombie in this kind of situation, the situation being “I just spent 24 hours non-stop monitoring the multiverse without eating nor sleeping so now I am on the cusp of a breakdown”.  You turn back to grab his hand and bring him with you.

He leans against the counter as you take out of the fridge and cupboards what you need. You put on some music and make conversation as you tackle your tasks. Once you’re both fed, you go lay down with him on your bed. You hug him against your chest, delicately stroking his hair. He closes his eyes and looks relaxed for the first time since he arrived. You feel his chest raising and decreasing and listen to his steady breathing while contemplating your ceiling. When you know for certain that he’s deeply asleep, you get up as discreetly as you can, leave a kiss on his forehead and go back to your nightly occupations.

[dduane]

I am curious since I've seen stuff of yours mentioning the worldbuilding work being important (and because your Young Wizard series was hugely influential in the way I build worlds): Where do you put all the worldbuilding work? A notebook? A Google Doc? A file somewhere on a computer? Scattered sticky notes? Messages to friends? Do you try to keep it all organized?

I have no choice but to keep it organized, because if I don't, I'm screwed. :) ...And this isn't just a side effect of being 70+, but of having numerous projects going at once, all in wildly varying stages of development... and ideas for any of them are likely to pop up at any time.

Over time I've learned to keep separate projects' notes well separated from one another, to prevent confusion. Additionally, some kinds of notes are better for some projects than others. If the worldbuilding is mostly to do with character business and stuff going on inside people's brains, something that supports long-format typed notes will be best. For something that needs artwork, drawings, diagrams or calculations, something more graphics-oriented may work better. I usually find out what works best as as I go along, and stage newer notes accordingly.

In the past I've often used (physical) notebooks, but I don't any more, as it takes more effort than I care to expend to move things off the paper and onto the screen / into the file. (For those wondering: I normally compose directly into the computer, either by typing or [Dragon Anywhere-mediated] dictation. If a piece of work is giving me more trouble than usual, I'll sometimes break down and compose on paper, with a fountain pen: thanks for the hint, @neil-gaiman. Sometimes slowing things down does make a difference) :) ...Then I read the pen-generated material into the machine.

Probably the modality I use most often now for worldbuild material is Scrivener, for reasons I discussed a little over here the other day. It lets you store notes alongside your prose material, or in a research "folder" down at the bottom of your project: and it keeps it all together.

But I'm not always sitting down in front of the machine. Sometimes ideas pop out when you're on the road: or you're working on one project and something pertinent to another one comes up. So at such times I use:

Evernote. It syncs seamlessly among all the devices I use, and you can get at it from wherever you are in a browser or from a smartphone or tablet.

A voice recording app. I've got one in the iPad and one on my phone. If I'm somewhere without broadband and can't use Dragon, the saved audio can be fed into it later. Dragon'll then transcribe what I said and email it to me for inclusion in whatever note-keeping software I'm using. Right now on the iPad I'm using an app called Voice Recorder, and on the (Android) phone one that (mysteriously) also called Voice Recorder.

These are desperately handy for when an idea comes to you in the middle of the night and your handwriting's not to be trusted or you don't want to turn on the light for fear of waking up whoever else is in the bed. Fumble around for the recorder, turn it on, mumble your note in and go back to sleep. Just make sure you've actually turned it on. And off. :)

Sticky notes. I do use them, but I don't let them sit around: it's too easy for a passing breeze to blow them off the table / desk / whatever and under the fridge, where you'll never see them again. These normally get transcribed into electronic storage immediately, or stuck onto my desk in a spot where they have to be dealt with immediately; or (in the case of really important notes) stapled to several others that in same cases have been there for years. ...Notes not immediately transcribed get stuck into a notebook which I clean out carefully once a month, along with the other note-taking apps.

Another kind of sticky notes, of which I'm really fond, is this app for the iPad, called Tatter. It allows you to open multiple "notebooks" that can house what seem to be an unlimited number of stickies. Supports images, as well.

A wiki on a stick. If there's a lot of data coming down the pipeline at once, it's handy to have something to stick it into in which short articles can be linked easily to one another. You can export / cut-and-paste these into your main work file as necessary. Then at the project's end, you just zip the wiki's contents up and put it away somewhere, on disk or in the cloud, as you prefer. (Because who knows what its contents might come in handy for, some years from now...?) TiddlyWiki is good tor this kind of thing.

Anyway: the secret of successfully managing an array of note-taking methods like this is to set aside a day once a month to go through them all, making sure that notes that are worth something will be tucked safely into the project file associated with them. If you're not using a program like Scrivener that provides its own storage, this space can as easily be a folder on your desktop, or even a series of printouts. But the most important thing: back them up somewhere safe. Worldbuilding notes are some of the most painful to lose. ...I keep a set of mine in Dropbox, and an additional set in my laptop, and once a month I email a zipfile of the most crucial ones to myself.

If this sounds like a lot of work: that's as may be... but it's worth it. I mean, we're talking worlds here. Until they're safely out where people can see them on paper or on the screen, you are their only guardian.

At any rate: HTH!

[willalove75]

The Estate | Lady Dimitrescu x Fem!oc Chapter 3

Summary: Your second day at work arrives and you meet a few more of your coworkers.

Warnings: 18+ minors DNI

Tags: Slow burn, flirty

I'll add more tags as needed!

Notes: Chapter 3!

Gif source

Once you're showered and dressed you open the door to Emma's room to wake her up. To your surprise, the toddler was already up and out of bed and rummaging through her toy bin.

"Good morning Emma. What are you looking for?"

"Mommy! I want my baby doll. She has to eat breakfast!"

"Oh she does, does she?"

"Yes, she's hungry."

"Alright, let mommy help you so you don't make even more of a mess."

You walk over to her and grab the doll out from the bottom of the bin and hand it to Emma.

"You must be hungry baby! Lets get breakfast!" Emma says.

The little girl saunters out of the bedroom with her doll in her arms and you can't help but giggle.

Once you get into the kitchen you help Emma into her booster seat and you sit the doll on the table next to her.

"Mommy, can baby and I have waffles?"

"Of course, love."

You pop two Eggo waffles into the toaster and make yourself breakfast. Just as you're finishing up the waffles are ready and you put them onto a plate along with a handful of blueberries. Once they're a cooled off enough so Emma won't burn herself, you cut the waffles up into smaller bite-sized pieces and pour a little bit of syrup over them. You grab your coffee and breakfast along with Emma's and set her plate down in front of her.

After every couple of bites Emma brings her fork to her baby doll's lips and "feeds" her breakfast.

"Is it yummy baby?" Emma asks the doll.

You watch your daughter as she chews on her waffle pieces and fruit while she continues to feed the doll with a smile on your face. Sure, she's getting syrup and blueberry mush everywhere and is making a mess - many of the pieces she "fed" her doll ended up on the floor - but you don't care. All you care about is her happiness and right now, she's the happiest kid on the planet.

When you finish eating you pick up the forgotten pieces of food off of the floor and give it a quick wipe with a paper towel. After cleaning it up you take a wet cloth to Emma's face and wipe her clean.

"Mommy! Don't forget to clean baby!" Emma says.

"Of course not!" You say as you wipe the sticky syrup remnants off of the dolls face. "Alright, how about we get dressed?"

"Me and baby?"

"Yes, you and your baby." You say as you put her down onto the floor.

With an excited squeal Emma runs into her bedroom with the doll in her arms and begins to pick out an outfit for her. As she's occupied you pull out an outfit for Emma and lay it out.

When she finally picks out an outfit, you dress the doll and finish getting Emma and yourself ready for the day.

"Come on Em, we gotta go, mommy can't be late for work!" You call out to her.

"Coming mommy!" Emma says.

She runs out of the room with her doll in her arms and meets you by the door. You unlock it and Emma climbs down the stairs on her butt while you follow her.

"Hi Margie!" Emma says.

"Good morning Emma!" Margie says as she leans down and gives Emma a hug and kiss on the cheek. "Good morning Katie."

"Morning Marge!"

"Ready for your second day?"

"As ready as I'll ever be I guess." You say with a smile.

"I'm sure you'll do great."

"Thank you."

You head out the door with Emma and off to your in-laws house once more.

After you drop off Emma you make your way to work.

As you walk inside you see Cassandra behind the bar again. "Good morning." You say with a smile.

Cassandra either blatantly ignores you or doesn't hear you, but you think it's the former as opposed to the latter.

After you put your things down, you get yourself settled at your desk and turn on your computer. The first thing you do is check your emails for anything you may have gotten after you left and then you go over your to-do list.

Once you outline what it is you want to get done for the day you dive right in. The first item on this mornings list is to work on the next marketing campaign. The campaign is to advertise the new Sunday brunches that are starting in the beginning of the summer. It's only mid-April but you want to start running them by mid-May the latest.

The newly familiar sound of heels clicking across the floor echoes through the hall. When you look up you see Alcina walking past your office. She glances over at you and flashes a smile as she takes off her sunglasses, resting them on top of her head.

She stops at your door and you turn to face her. Her outfit is impeccable, just as put together as it was yesterday. A pair of flowy, high-waisted, printed pants with a sash tied neatly around her waist. A black V-neck popover blouse tucked in. To accessorize the look she has a pair of black heels, her black purse hanging in the crook of her elbow, a black blazer with a leather lapel and her signature gold jewelry. Just like yesterday her makeup is also immaculate. Her winged eyeliner is damn near perfect, eyebrows filled in with such precision you wouldn't think they were even touched at first glance, and her lips are painted with a deep crimson.

"Good morning Kathleen." Alcina says.

"Good morning."

"Bela should be here within the hour, her class should be ending soon. Then she can go over the social media accounts with you."

"Sounds good."

"And you received the invitation for the all-hands weekly staff meeting for this morning, yes?"

"Uh," your eyes widen and you turn towards the monitor that has your email up. "I don't think I did." You say as you check the calendar in your email. There's no unaccepted or pending meetings and no email invitations. "I don't see it."

"If you received it, it would be there." She says with a sigh. "My apologies, I will send you the invitation once I get settled."

"Oh sure, no rush. What time is the meeting?"

"It's at 10 o'clock."

You scribble it down into your notebook.

"I will be there. Email invite or not." You say, nodding to the computer screen.

"Excellent."

And with that, Alcina turns on her heels and heads into her office. The scent of her perfume lingers well after she's gone. As hard as you try to ignore it, it's nearly impossible not to focus on the smell as it envelopes you.

Just as 9:30 rolls around a blur of blond hair zooms past your office and down the hall. A couple of minutes later you hear the clicking of heels once more followed by a small knock on your already-open office door.

You turn to see Alcina with a young blond woman. The same one you saw for only a moment yesterday with Cassandra.

"Kathleen, I would like to introduce you to my eldest daughter, Bela."

"Hi, it's nice to meet you." You say as you shake her hand. "Bay-la," trying to pronounce it correctly. "not Bella?"

"Yup, exactly." She says with a smile. "It's nice to meet you too."

"Bela will go over the social media accounts and-" a phone ringing down the hall pulls Alcina's attention away. "I'm sorry, I must get that."

"No worries mom, I got it."

"Thank you draga." She says, before placing a light kiss on top of her head and disappearing down the hall.

"Alright, lets get to it."

For the next half-hour Bela goes through all of the social media accounts. She shows you what she's been doing, the photos she's been taking, how she's been taking them and where the best places she's found to take pictures are. The two of you walk around the estate and she shows you her favorite photo locations and where to grab things from if you need props or other things for the pictures.

"If you need a specific bottle and mom doesn't give it to you just ask Cass or any one of the bartenders. They can grab you one. Just let them know its for the socials so they don't bring you out one with a ripped label or something."

"Alright, sounds good."

"So, how are you liking it so far?"

"It's been good, I still have a lot to learn about the estate itself but it's nice to be working again."

"How long were you out of work for?"

"About two years."

You know the next question out of her mouth is going to be "why?" and you brace yourself. Just as she goes to speak her phone rings. Literally saved by the bell.

"Oh damn it's 10 already? The meeting starts in a couple minutes. I gotta grab a few things so I'll see you in there."

"See you soon."

A wave of relief washes over you and you head back into your office and grab your notebook. You follow a few other people into the conference room as you all file in.

Everything in the estate had a rustic look to it and the conference room was no exception. It was a big room with a large, rectangle table in the middle and windows overlooking the vineyard lining the far wall. Opposite the windows sat a window wall, the only barrier between the conference room and the rest of the office. The conference room door was a barn door and when it was open, the grilles lined up perfectly with the ones on the window wall - so satisfying. The other two walls were adorned with reclaimed wood that matched the beams trailing on the ceiling from one end of the room to the other. The wall closest to the door had a massive television screen mounted to it, presumably for presentations and zoom conferences.

You politely smiled at a few people you hadn't met yet and went to find a seat. Alcina, to your surprise, didn't sit at the head of the table but right in the middle of it. Part of you hoped you'd be able to find a seat near one of the ends but of course the only seat that was left open was the one directly in front of your new boss.

The rest of the staff got comfortable in their seats as they all waited for Alcina to finish doing whatever it was she was doing on her laptop. As much as you tried to avoid looking at her, she was right in your line of sight.

She really was beautiful. You did your best to look at anything else but your eyes always wandered back to her. Her perfectly curled hair tucked behind one of her ears, putting her pearl earring on display. The way her reading glasses were perched on her nose somehow made her look both cute and incredibly sexy. Like a hot librarian.

The minute you realize your thought you feel a warm flush across your cheeks and you push it out of your head. She's your boss, you can't be thinking about her that way! As you're chastising yourself in your head her eyes flick up and meet yours. You feel the heat in your face grow and you look away but not before catching her flashing you a small smile.

"I apologize for keeping you all waiting." She announces to the group who falls silent. "There isn't much on the agenda today so this should be quick. Before we begin, I would like to introduce our newest team member, Kathleen." She says, gesturing across the table to you. "She has taken over John's position in marketing and will be with us full time. I would like to not overwhelm our newest staff member so if there are any questions related to her department please continue to send them my way until she is acclimated." Alcina says. You notice her eyes flash to the man sitting at the head of the table on your right and she continues. "Now, there are no major updates, sales are steadily increasing as the weather improves and once the advertisements for our Sunday brunches have been launched I have no doubts that sales will continue to rise."

She talks more about how the business is doing in general, updates on shipments due and what orders need to be placed. She mentions new menu items and what seasonal food and drink options are going to be swapped out soon. Once she's finished with her list she goes around the room to each staff member and asks if they have anything for the meeting. A few of the people say they don't have anything, the man at the head of the table says he has nothing for this meeting, whatever that's supposed to imply. Some of the different departments talk about what's been going on, what they need from others and overall departmental updates. As she goes around the table the man next to you speaks and you feel your heart beginning to beat faster. "What am I supposed to say? Would it look bad if I didn't say anything at my first meeting?" You think. When it comes your turn, Alcina skips over you and goes straight to the man to your left. A breath you didn't realize you were holding is released and you feel your heartbeat beginning to even out.

After about an hour the meeting started it comes to a close and Alcina dismisses everyone. Before you get up you catch her eye.

"I hope it's alright I skipped over you today." She says.

"Yeah, that was totally fine. I was starting to get nervous about what I was going to say anyway since it's only my second day."

"I presumed as much." Was it that obvious that you were starting to panic or is she just that good at reading people? "I don't expect you to have to participate in filling in the team of the happenings in marketing until after next weeks meeting. It should take at the very least that long to get acclimated to everything."

"Thank you." You say with a smile.

Well that was a relief you didn't know you were craving. You were safe this week and next week. The following week is when you'll have to discuss anything new in marketing but you're confident that you'll have everything down pat by then.

As you and Alcina gather your things and stand, the man seated at the head of the table walks up to you.

"Hello there, Chris Redfield, CFO." He says, holding out his hand. "It's wonderful to meet you, Kathleen, was it?" You shake his hand.

"Yeah. It's nice to meet you too."

It's not so surprising to find out he's the CFO. The moment he opened his mouth he sounded like a salesman. Like the kind of guy who can get you to buy a cheap piece of shit car and make you feel like you're driving away in a Rolls Royce.

"And where were we lucky enough to snag you from?" He asks.

Alcina's eyes dart over to Chris and they narrow at him.

"Oh, I've had a bit of a gap in my resume the past couple of years." You say, a little embarrassed.

"And now why is that-"

"Christopher." Alcina snaps and both you and Chris look in her direction. Her slate eyes piercing into him. "Wasn't there something you needed to speak with me about? That you didn't mention in the all-hands meeting?"

"As a matter of fact there was. How about we go chat in your office?" He turns to you. "It was wonderful meeting you Kate." He says before sauntering out of the room.

You're able to give Alcina a small smile as a "thank you" before she exits the conference room behind him. It does look as though she gave you the smallest of nods in return.

A few minutes after you got back to your desk you see Alcina briskly walk past and you look over at the clock. The tasting room opens in a few minutes so you figure she's going to do her routine walkthrough before opening. A few minutes later she heads back to her office and you hear the door close.

You dive into your work, getting everything ready for the brunch advertisements. Bouncing between that and a few other things, like A/B testing and running analytics, the day passes rather quickly and it's already time for lunch.

Once you finish up your tasks you pull out your lunch and begin to eat while scrolling mindlessly on your phone.

"What are you eating?!" An excited voice says.

Looking up you see Daniela standing in your doorway.

"Hey Daniela, nothing, just lunch. How was school?"

"It was so boring. What did you bring for lunch?!"

"Just a salad, nothing fancy."

"Oh come on, salads are more boring than school!"

"I won't disagree with you there, kid."

"I thought mom told you to leave her alone." Bela says as she walks up to Daniela.

"I'm not bothering her! She's having lunch!" She says defensively.

"Daniela-"

"What?! I'm not doing anything wrong!"

You sit there awkwardly as the girls begin to bicker. They get louder and louder until Alcina walks up.

"What on earth are you two doing?!" She hisses.

"Daniela was bothering Kathleen aga-"

"I was not!"

"That is enough."

"But mom she was having lunch! I wasn't distracting her from important stuff!" Daniela whines.

"You're such a whiney baby." Bela says.

"Enough, the both of you. Bela, go back to work. You," she looks at Daniela and points to her office. "my office. Now."

Daniela's shoulders drop and she looks at you like a sad puppy.

"See you later Katie."

"Bye Daniela." You say with a smile. That seemed to cheer Daniela up a bit as she walks away.

Alcina turns to you and you're not sure if the ever so faint flush is from embarrassment or from holding in her anger and not screaming at her two daughters.

"Once again, I apologize for their behavior." She says.

"It's okay, really." You say with a smile.

"I will see to it that she stops barging in on you."

"Honestly, I don't mind. Especially if I'm just having lunch. She seems like a good kid. She's just, excitable."

Alcina laughs through her nose and shakes her head.

"The understatement of the century."

The rest of your day flies by after that and before you know it you're packing up and getting ready to go home. You decide to stop by Alcina's office again before you head out.

It was only after you knocked on the door was when you heard two voices behind it. "Oh shit." You think to yourself. The door opens and Chris is standing in front of you.

"Would ya look at that, the new girl! Kim, right?"

"It's Katie, actually." You say.

"Oh that's right, my apologies Kate."

You adjust the strap of your bag on your left shoulder and Chris looks at your hand.

"No ring, so you're not married?"

"Uh-"

"Christopher." Alcina hisses. He steps aside and you see the glare she's shooting him. If she were to look at you like that you would probably cry without her ever having to speak a single word.

"Yeah you're right Alci, none of my business." He says with a charming smile. She must be used to his antics because the glare she's sending his way only intensifies when he calls her "Alci."

"I am so sorry for interrupting, I didn't know anyone was in here with you. I'll go-"

"You weren't interrupting at all, Kathleen. Chris was just leaving." She says, shooting Chris a look.

"I should probably get goin' myself. The bachelor pad ain't gonna clean itself." Alcina scrunches her nose for a moment as if she smelled bad fish. "Night boss, Kate."

Chris disappears down the hall and Alcina looks to you.

"I apologize for his behavior, he can be quite insufferable at times." She says, rubbing small circles on her temples. "It also feels as if I've been apologizing quite often since your arrival."

"Honestly, it's really okay."

"If at any point you are uncomfortable, with anything, even if it has to do with my daughters, please don't hesitate to speak with me."

"I won't, I promise."

"Good. I presume you're leaving for the day?"

"Yeah, just wanted to see if you needed anything before I left."

Alcina smiles at you and shakes her head.

"No, there is nothing I need from you. Have a wonderful night, Kathleen."

"You too."

The two of you exchange smiles and you head out for the day.

Alcina leans her elbows on her desk and closes her eyes and continues to rub her temples.

"You good there boss?"

She opens her eyes and slowly looks up at Chris.

"Aside from the impending migraine you've bestowed upon me, I am fine."

"All I'm saying is that that property might not be the best invest-"

"I am through with speaking about this. My decision has been made and it is final. When the property is ready to be listed I will be buying it."

"You don't even need it, you just want it so Winters can't get it-"

"Christopher, I understand you are my CFO and that you have good intentions but I purchased the land we are sitting on, I built this winery, this vineyard, this entire estate without supervision. I don't need it now."

"What do you plan on doing with another 30 acres of property anyway? Property that's a mile away no less?"

"I haven't decided."

Knowing he's fighting a losing battle, Chris sighs and shakes his head.

"Goodnight boss."

"Goodnight Christopher."

Alcina continues to work in her office as the tasting room slowly empties. When it closes at 7, Alcina is still at her desk.

"Alright mom, registers are all cashed out and everything is closed down." Cassandra says as she walks into her mothers office.

"Wonderful, thank you draga."

"I'm starving, can we get Chick-fil-a?" Daniela says, collapsing onto the couch in her mothers office.

"Oh, that sounds good. I can go for a milkshake right now. Mom, want anything?"

"From that greasy place? No thank you."

"Do you not like that we go there because they don't like gay people?" Daniela asks.

Alcina scoffs.

"No, I do not care what a business such as that thinks of my lifestyle. I refuse to eat there because it is disgusting." She says, not looking up from her work.

"Are you coming home anytime soon?" Cassandra asks.

"I'll be done soon, draga."

"So you'll be home by midnight. Sounds about right. Come on Dani, lets go eat."

"Cassandra, watch that tone of yours." Her eyes shift to her middle child.

"Why am I the only one you get mad at?"

"That's not true Cass, she got mad at me yesterday and today!"

"What did you do?"

"She was interrupting Kathleen during work, again." Alcina says, eyeing her youngest.

"Who?"

"Katie! The pretty one." Daniela says.

"Oh, the new girl."

"Daniela will you stop saying that?" Alcina says.

"Why? You don't think she's pretty?" Daniela asks.

"No, that's not why I said that-"

"So you do think she's pretty!"

"Daniela Dimitrescu that is enough. You cannot comment on peoples appearances in the workplace. It is unprofessional." Alcina says.

"But you do think she's pretty?"

"Enough. Go eat your greasy fast-food and go home so I can finish what I'm doing and maybe I will be home at a reasonable hour."

"You missed that by about two hours there, mom." Cassandra says.

"Goodbye girls."

"Bye mamă." Daniela says wrapping her arms around her mothers neck and kissing her on the cheek.

"See ya."

"Get home safe, I will be there soon." She says as the girls walk out of her office.

"Why are you so obsessed with how pretty the new girl is?" Cassandra asks.

"Have you not seen her?! She's so pretty!" Daniela says as her voice fades away.

Alcina sighs and gets back to work. Thoughts of you cross her mind. Of course you're pretty - you're beautiful if Alcina was being honest with herself. But you also fascinated her, piqued her curiosity.

She wanted to know why you had such a long gap in your resume. Alcina tells herself its for purely professional reasons but she is also curious outside of a professional manner. It also struck her as odd the way you reacted when Chris said you weren't married. It brought her back to yesterday when she noticed what could be a wedding band on your right ring finger and when you were giving her your emergency contact information. You went to say, what was it? Jack? Jake? Something like that, but stopped yourself. A sadness filled your eyes but was gone in an instant. A sadness Alcina was all too familiar with. But if it was because you were divorced or widowed, she didn't know. She's seen that look for both reasons.

Alcina remembers the blush that dusted your cheeks when you made eye contact before the meeting started. She could have sworn that you were blushing before she looked at you but she wasn't sure. She cursed herself for thinking how pretty you looked as the flush deepened.

Just then Alcina's phone dinged, a text message came through. It was from Alex, the woman that Alcina had been casually seeing.

8 tonight?

Was all the text read. Alcina looked at her watch and saw that it was 7:15. She replied:

The usual place?

Yes

Meet you there.

She knew she should have said no and continued working but between the stress of the week and the extra grief from Chris today, Alcina needed to relieve some of her tension. That's really at that this relationship was. A way for both women to relieve tension without having to sleep with random people.

She drives to the hotel and heads up to the room Alex texted her. As soon as she walks in the rest of her night becomes a blur of limbs tangling, touches, tongues, scratches, whimpers, moans and orgasms - multiple orgasms.

By 9:30 Alcina is pulling into the driveway of her home.

"Reasonable hour my ass." Cassandra says as Alcina walks in.

"Cassandra, you know better than to use that language in my house." Alcina says as she puts her purse and keys away.

"Were you at the office all night?" Daniela asks.

"No, but I was there late. I went out afterwards for a bit."

"Where?"

"The jazz club." She lied.

"On a Thursday night?" Cassandra questioned.

"It's late, you girls should be getting ready for bed, not watching television."

Cassandra groans and Alcina begins to walk up the stairs.

"Turn it off, girls."

The tv is shut off and Cassandra and Daniela head upstairs to get ready for bed.

After finishing up her nightly routine Alcina climbs into bed. For the first time in what felt like weeks she's actually satisfied and drifts off into a deep sleep.

[timetoletmyimaginationfly]

Surprise!

Nanami Kento x Reader

(Song: Sunroof by Nick Youre, dazy)(I just love this song for fluff stories)

Nanami didn’t like how busy you were at work. The two of you will spend short mornings together before he drives you to work and he heads over to Jujutsu High. He expected you to be busy. You just received your promotion in your department. But since the promotion, you always came home late and worked a lot of overtime hours.

“Kento-kun!” you exclaimed excitedly. Your secretary called you, informing you that your boyfriend is waiting at the lobby. He gave you a soft smile and raised a brown bag in his hand.

“You have time for me, darling?” he asked. You nodded, smiling ecstatically. “I ordered your favorite.

You brought him up to your office. It was his first time inside. He was impressed at the size of the office. You had a large desk with a computer and papers scattered across. A bookcase covered the wall behind the desk and a large sofa along the adjacent wall with a small table in front of it.

“That’s why you were looking at couches last week?” he asked when he sat down. He sighed in relief. He was very comfortable.

“Yeah, I take my mini naps when I need it,” you answered. Nanami chuckled, pulling out the food containers and placing them on the table. “Kento-kun, you’re not ditching work are you?” He shook his head.

“You’re in my schedule today,” he said and fed you. You happily thanked him. “I really miss you. We barely have time together.” You nodded, sadly agreeing with his statement.

“Well, next month my workload shouldn’t be too bad! I’m getting the hang of it with this position,” you said. Nanami pulled you in close and kissed your forehead.

“Perfect. I can have you to myself now.” You giggled. You were so happy to have this moment with him. A knock was heard before the door opened. A male peeped inside. You waved him over with a smile.

“Ah, I’m sorry,” he said. “We have our meeting soon. Remember?” Your eyes widened. Once you saw your boyfriend, you forgot about everything else. The moment you saw him at the lobby, you were too excited to spend time with him before he had to leave for work. You immediately got up and ran to your desk. Nanami sighed as he watched you frantically rummage through your desk.

“I’m sorry, Kento-kun! I have to go!” Nanami have you an apologetic smile.

“I probably should’ve notified you instead of surprising you.” He looked so sad and you couldn’t help but feel so heartbroken.

“Ahh, Takana-san. I’ll meet you outside,” you said. Your coworker nodded and closed the door behind him when he left. You then turned to Nanami and cupped his face. “I love your surprise, honey. Don’t look so sad okay? It really made my day.”

“I just don’t want to ruin anything with your job,” he said as he placed his palm on your cheek. You rested your cheek against his palm.

“I love it,” you said softly. “And I love you. Thank you for lunch.” Nanami took your hand and kissed your wrist and then your knuckles.

“I just missed you,” he said. You felt so bad. If only you could skip this meeting. “Don’t worry about me, okay? I’m happy that I get to spend this little time with you.” You wanted to cry. Your boyfriend is just the sweetest no matter what. Nanami kissed your pouty lips. “I love you, darling. I’ll see you at home.”

With one last kiss, he left. You stared at the direction he left and sighed.

“You know, I can handle this meeting alone,” he said. “You’ve been missing your man.” You nodded. “Take the rest of the day off after this meeting. Have an early weekend off.”

“Are you sure? I don’t want to pile the work on you.”

“Just take it. This is the first time I’ve seen you look so happy.”

You left immediately after the meeting. You decided to call Nanami.

“How did it go?” he asked.

“It went great! We got amazing ideas from the team. We got our project selected. So next week we’ll be able to come up with a plan,” you said. “What are you up to?”

“Reports,” Nanami said. “I think I’m going to head home early today. You don’t get home until 7 right?”

“Sadly.” You smiled. “I’ll try to get out early though. After earlier today, I just want to be with you.” Nanami softly chuckled on the other line.

“Don’t force yourself to,” he said. “I want you to be successful. Keep doing what you have to do, darling. I’ll see you at home. I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

Nanami groaned as he entered inside the house. The stress from Gojo constantly asking questions about you and trying to spend time with him took a toll on him. But the stress from work quickly dissipated when he heard music play from the kitchen and you singing along. He heard the sink run and he can see your shadow move around as if you were dancing.

“Darling?” he called. You appeared in front of the hallway and smiled widely. You quickly walked up to him and wrapped your arms around his neck. You laughed as he spun you around. “What are you doing home so early?”

“Surprise!” you exclaimed. Nanami couldn’t help but laugh happily. “Takana-san said to go home after the meeting. I made your favorite by the way. And I bought your favorite whiskey.” You excitedly held his hand and pulled him into the kitchen. On the counter, he found two plates set up with his favorite meal with whiskey on the rocks right next to his plate. He frowned seeing your plate.

“And why do you have leftovers from the lunch I bought earlier?” he asked.

“Because I burnt my plate,” you said. Nanami laughed again and kissed your lips. “Now let’s eat before dinner gets cold.”

“Okay, okay. What do you wanna do after?”

“You can join me in the shower and we can watch movies and not watch the movie.” You gave him a wink. Nanami couldn’t help but smirk. His lips were close to your ear and his voice gave you shivers down your spine.

“Best surprise ever.”

[mayziiii-grace]

L has been working so much lately on the new kira case that you and him have barely had any spare time to spend with each other, and you missed him, always working late nights left you sleeping in your bed alone, tossing and turning, missing his presence above anything else.

some nights you would try to pleasure yourself, but it wouldn’t even compare to how he’d touch you, so you lay alone, throbbing and sexually frustrated, an ache in your core only he could make go away.

so you decide one day to change this situation.

you see him perched in his work chair, working at his computer like always, even as late as it already was, he looked like he was nowhere near a stopping point.

“hey baby, how’s work?”

“mhm”

you roll your eyes and scoff at the response, or more like lack thereof.

seeing his plate full of sweets, (he always had some on hand, his sweet tooth being even bigger than yours), and seeing his empty cup of tea, you prompt him with a question you hoped would attract his attention.

“i made you some tea, would you like some?”

he looks up slightly, his eyes finally meeting yours.

“you made me tea? you didn’t have to do that you know”

he says, looking back at his computer.

“i know i didn’t have to, i wanted to”

you say with a sweet smile as you hand him the teacup.

he sips it loudly, and hums in response.

“thank you”

and as expected, he gets right back to work, as if you weren’t even there, as usual.

finally fed up, you sit in his lap, straddling him to face toward him while he continues to work on his computer, barely even registering your presence.

not liking his lack of response, you start to kiss his neck, biting and sucking the nape of his neck.

“wh-what are you doing y/n?”

he says as his breath hitches and he moves his neck to the side to give you better access. you can feel the obvious tent in his pants start to grow as you rock your hips against his ever growing hard on.

“oh nothing, just keep working L”

you say with a smirk as you grind your hips into him harder, your pussy throbbing against him.

“i’m trying to work y/n and this is very distracting”

he tries to keep working and to focus on his computer, but you continue your assault on his neck, definitely leaving marks behind.

“oh cmon L don’t pretend like you don’t like this, your cock is so hard i can feel it throbbing”

he admits defeat and throws his head back, letting out a soft moan when he feels you start to unbuckle his jeans, pulling them down to his ankles. you slowly take his cock out of his underwear, and it was a magnificent sight, he was atleast 7 inches, the tip soft pink color, a purple blue vein running on the underside of his cock.

work completely forgotten at this point, he starts squirming under your touch, letting out soft moans at the slightest brush of your finger against tip.

“y-y/n, please if your going to fuck me just do it already”

he moans out, bucking his hips under you, a silent plea to be inside you. and you decide to grant his wish, by pulling your panties to the side and sinking down slowly, onto him.

you forgot how truly big he was, taking inch by inch in your pussy, his cock stretching you out in just the right way.

“oh m-my god y/n fuck, just like that, take my cock, just like that”

his praise goes straight to your core, and you feel your arousal start to drip onto your thighs.

when you finally manage to take all of him, you start to move up and down, slowly at first, but then noticing how he’s crumbling underneath you, so pretty, you decide to speed up the pace a bit, his tip brushing your cervix, making you let out the most pretty moans, all for him.

and he knows it too, because he’s got a smug look on his face when he says,

“aw darling you look so pretty taking my cock, such a good girl for me hm?”

you tighten around him at his words, and start you start to rock your hips back and forth faster, making the breath catch in his throat, and his eyes close momentarily, moaning your name over and over.

watching how his eyes roll in the back of his head, hearing his moans, seeing the way he’s looking at you, is enough to push you over the edge, you feel a knot start to form in your lower stomach, heat filling your entire body, you start moaning uncontrollably, getting absolutely cock drunk, as you start to chase your high.

“L i’m- oh my god L- i need to c-cum, so- s-so bad, please L, oh my-“

hearing you begging him to cum is enough to make the last strand of control he had left snap, and he cums, hard, shooting his cum inside you, at the same time your falling apart on top of him, your orgasm almost too much as it takes over you. your only thought being L, his name a moan on your tongue as you ride out your orgasm.

you start to come back down to earth, you hear him comforting you, saying how good of a job you did, telling you how pretty you are, as your laying on L’s chest, your arm’s wrapped around his waist, hear him start to doze off, but before he does, he says softly,

“i love you y/n”

you smile into his chest, as you feel butterflies, in your half awaken state, and say,

“i love you more, L”

as you slowly drift off to sleep, in L’s arms.

[kobol1]

Here's a super rough draft of some angst.

It's more of an outline than a ficlet. I just needed to get it out of my head because it won't let me sleep. Kek

Clone Danny Au.

Danny is a clone of Jazz.

Jazz and Jason get a frantic phone call from Danny. Jazz can hear the fear in his voice, she rushes to Amity Park with Jason.

Jack and Maddie had discovered his ghost half. Instead of strapping him down to a table, they do something equally as worse, they disown him and kick him out of Fenton Works.

"Jazz are you sure my birth certificate is in here, all I see is old paperwork. Danny said to his sister sitting next to him on the floor of his former parent's closet.

"I'm sure it's in here. Ah, look here it is." Jazz says. Picking up an envelope with Danny's name on it. She opens it and pulls out an old file. "Huh, I wonder what this is." She opens it and starts reading the contents of the file. Her eyes go wide and her mouth hangs open. "Oh my God! What the fuck is this!" Jazz suddenly yells in shock.

"What! Jazz what is it? Jazz? JAZZ!" Danny says out loud.

Jazz is too shocked to reply to him. She just hands him the file with a hand covering her mouth. Danny takes it and reads the file. He re-reads it again and again still not believing what is written down on the old computer printout.

"This can't be real? It can't be, how, why, why would they do something like this?" Danny asks not believing what he had just read.

Jazz numbly replies that she found his birth certificate handing it to him and taking back the file. She gets up off the floor and starts to head out of the room and down the stairs to the living room where Jack and Maddie are waiting.

"Hey Jazz wait what are you doing? Jazz!" Danny nervously asks her. She ignores him continuing her way to the living room with fury in her steps.

Maddie eyes the familiar-looking file in Jazz's hand. "Jack I thought you got rid of that." She harshly asked her husband. Jack doesn't bother to respond to her.

Jazz comes to a stop in front of them, with her standing protectively in front of Danny

"What the fuck is this?" Jazz asks holding up the file for the two of them to see. "This says that you cloned me? That Danny your son my little brother, is my clone?"

"That thing hiding behind you is not my son!" Maddie answers Jazz with venom in her voice.

Jazz felt her core flair up with rage to protect Danny, to protect her little brother, her everything, her baby, and now her son.

"You know what Danny was never your son!" "You and Jack were never his parents." "All you two ever cared about was that stupid fucking portal!" Jazz yelled back with equal amounts of venom in her voice.

"I always felt more of a mother to Danny than a sister! and now I know why! Because I practically am! He's practically my son!

I raised him! I clothed and fed him!" I was the one to take him to his first day of school and all of the million other things that you two never did!" Jazz huffed out in rage.

Danny was holding on to the back of Jazz's sweater to keep himself from turning invisible from all the fear, rage, and anger he could feel in the air.

Jazz can feel her fangs and claws coming out, and the tips of her ears starting to get pointy. She can taste the fear rolling off of Danny in waves. She's struggling to not transform into her ghost half and end the threat in front of them.

"Your son" Maddie laughs "if you want that thing as your son then we have no children."

Jazz lets out a growl. "Fine" She hisses. "We're leaving."

Jazz pulls Danny to the front door where his belongings are packed up. They gather the bags and open the door to Jason with his hand on the holster in his jacket. His eyes flashed a Lazarus pit green from having heard the conversation inside. He snaps out of it seeing Jazz and Danny. He turns around and goes to open the trunk of the rental car.

After putting the bags in the trunk Jazz and Danny climb into the back seat with Jason taking the driver seat. They drive off leaving Amity Park behind them.

Jazz pulls Danny into a tight hug growling and whispering assurances that he is safe and protected into his hair. Finally feeling safe Danny lets himself break down. Sobbing into Jazz's chest that he didn't mean to break up their family and ruin her and Jason's vacation.

"Danny, Danny sweetheart you didn’t ruin anything. None of this is your fault. Not one thing. Shhhh. Shhhh everything will be okay do you hear me, baby? Shhhhh." Jazz says letting out loud purrs from her core.

Danny lets out pained whimpers and Jason can feel his heartbreak at the sound.

After a few hours of driving and Danny falling asleep with his head in Jazz's lap, they pull over to decompress.

"So do you want to talk about what happened back there?" Jason asks Jazz looking at her in the rearview mirror.

Jazz lets out a tired sigh. "Jack and Maddie cloned me, Jason. "My Little brother is my clone and I don't know what to think or what to do about it right now." Jazz answered him while carding her hand through Danny's hair. She was on the edge of exhaustion.

"You should get some rest Jazz, we'll figure this out when we get back to Gotham. Jason replied. Jazz yawns and closes her eyes and falls asleep.

Click here to see more of my sleep deprived ramblings! :D

[strayflowersstarsandlove]

You put me back together, actually (leefelix)

You roll over on your other side, pressing your cheek into your pillow, sighing in frustration as another strong pang hits your lower abdomen and you momentarily break out in cold sweats from the pain. It's the fact that periods not only make your tummy feel like someone is straight up cutting your uterus from the inside out but also the sheer amount of pain that distributes evenly on your lower back and your hips for you. As if being in an almost constant state of discomfort and annoyance and quite literally loosing spoonfuls of blood wasn't enough of an experience in itself.

Fed up and tired, you decide to just give up on your failed attempt at a little afternoon nap and quietly pad into the kitchen to make yourself some hot chocolate. Cause hot chocolate fixes everything. Once you pulled out the milk carton and the chocolate mix, you start rummaging through your cupboards, looking for the little marshmallows packet you stashed somewhere in there. Except that you find none. And then you remember your boyfriend has the biggest sweet tooth and would probably eat sugar out the jar as a snack if he had no other options available.

You giggle to yourself for a second, immediately regretting it cause the mere vibration makes your tummy hurt, and then climb back upstairs, stopping at Felix's game room to knock softly on the white wooden door:"come iiin!!".

You step hesitantly just an inch inside the room and lean your head in the door frame, looking fondly over at the blonde head peeking from the professional black gaming chair Felix is sitting in, multicolored led lights reflecting on the white blonde tufts sticking in different directions, the white blue glare of one of his computer screen hitting him on one side and the multicolored ones emitting from his main one where he's playing some video game hitting his other side. And the marhsmellows. Sitting there next to his loudspeakers, all squished and fragrant in the little plastic sachet.

"Oh, hello!", Felix pauses his game and spins on his chair, turning to you, he removes his headphones from his head as he smiles warmly at you, "what are you doing all alone over there? Come here", he exclaims, stretching out his arms, inviting you in.

And you really don't make him ask you twice. You basically leap into his arms, letting him embrace you so tight, his hands pressing into your skin, squeezing your back and your sides and guiding you onto his lap, "did you have a nice nap, honey?", he asks then, and you frown, "couldn't sleep much. I got my period earlier this morning and I've been cramping ever since", you reply, holding onto your tense abdomen.

Felix pouts and ever so gently caresses your tummy, "I'm so sorry, is it really painful?", you shrug, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, "it's bearable. It's mostly just annoying. My back feels stiff and a bit achy, and my hips too and funnily enough that hurts more than my actual tummy", you smile a bittersweet smile and he nods sympathetic, his hands now palming down your sides, his inner massesuse instincts kicking in as soon as he senses your tender body.

And his touch feels so nice. Like so nice. You find yourself closing your eyes and relaxing into his chest as he draws you closer and starts rubbing your back gently, his fingers making fast work at loosening up all your knots with both a certain amount of forcefulness and gentleness that makes it hard for you not to moan in pleasure, just a little.

And he somehow notices your face muscles twitching and you biting down on the inside of your cheek to restrain yourself from emitting any sounds, he snickers quietly and plants a kiss on your cheek, "you don't have to hold back, my love, I like the sounds you make", he whispers in a low voice, his hands then moving down to your hips, palms spreading and pressing down warmly, your whole body feeling like soft clay being molded into shape.

And then he massages his fingers right into the knot at the base of your spine, and it's like a sudden epiphany as all of your back muscles click back into place, your hips buckle and your body instantly looses whatever residue resistance it ever held, all the build up tension and strength immediately leaving your limbs as you can't help a little "ah" escaping from your lips.

Felix smirks, he pats down your back gently, helping you straighten up again on his lap, "how the fuck did you do that? I feel like a whole new person, with a whole new back", you ask incredulous, not an ounce of pain left in your body, "I barely did anything, I just knew where to put a little more pressure", he says with a satisfied look on his face, "woah I came here for cuddles and marshmallows and I'm leaving a whole new person! I truly don't think my back will ever hurt again like ever ever".

Felix giggles in that loud, adorable way that makes him close one eye and squint the other while his smile lights up his whole face and he's so devastatingly beautiful you have the physical need to kiss him. You kiss his lips and then the tip of his nose and both of his cheeks, him giggling and making his cutest, typical noises all the while.

"You said you came here for marshmallows?", Felix asks after a little while, his plump, now very swollen lips still hovering yours, "oh… Yeah", you murmur, slowly recouping from the little haze, the flurry of kisses you two just shared still numbing your senses as you pull yourself up, "I was going to make hot chocolate with marshmallows on top as a comfort food cause I was achy and restless but I honestly completely forgot about it", you confess, "hahaha I love you", Felix laughs and hugs you, "did I really mess you up that much?", he asks chirpy, smiling so big and so warmly, his eyes shiny and happy as he holds you, "no, you put me back together, actually. Beautifully at that".

[min-hoax]

Fool’s paradise drabble maybe? 👀👀I love that story 👀 maybe after reader has her baby?

Shiiiiit, you don’t have to tell me TWICE!! I would love to!

Let’s get itt.😈

COMPLETE - ksj

Pairing: Fool’s Paradise Jin x F! Reader

Warning(s): Mentions of kidnapping, childbirth, murder, death, biiiiit of Stockholm Syndrome, (promise it’s a soft drabble lol)

His deafening wails still surprise you. You couldn’t comprehend how such piercing cries could escape such a tiny body like your darling son. From the minute you felt him move inside you, he had become your entire mind, body and soul in one.

Which is why you couldn’t take Seokjin holding him as if he were his father, loving and doting on him as if he had created YOUR own flesh and blood. But you understood, he had you both wrapped around your fingers and there wasn’t anything, absolutely NOTHING you wouldn’t do for him.

“I got him, honey.” Though working on his computer, seated on an off white, single sofa chair, he immediately placed the device to the side and made his way to your son, cocooned inside his bassinet just the way he loved to be. You couldn’t help but to watch him coo at your world, snuggling his nose to his and beaming so brightly while holding him with both his hands. “Are you hungry, my love? Hm? Is that it? Should we go to mommy?”

He looked at you and then at him whilst walking towards you, settling right at your feet. Your arms outstretched as Seojkin passed him to your awaiting arms, taking a seat next to you.

You bit your lip, eyeing him as he stood. It was still… awkward when you fed your baby in front of him. He’d look at you with such love, with such devotion as you nursed… like everything he’d ever wanted was in his grasp.

And what a truth it was. After he decided to keep you captive to his side, he never left, suffocating you even until now. You were grateful though, that even through the predicament you were in, you were bizarrely thankful you had someone at your side during the birth. He never left, not even for a second, while the nurses and the midwife’s he had hired tended to you through the labor and delivery of your beautiful son.

There were tears falling from the both of you the second he took his first breath on this earth.

And though you despised Seokjin for what he put you through, there was no denying the way he cherished and loved your son as if he was his own and you almost… adored it.

EunJi came from time to time, keeping herself at arms length from your baby, thankfully. That lady was a fiend hidden inside a beautiful woman that looked like she would never hurt a fly. She surprised you when she brought a handful of presents for her ‘grandbaby’ a few weeks after he was born, and Jin couldn’t be happier. He wrapped her around his arms, mumbling a few words of gratitude in her ear while he held your son in his arms and introduced him to the fiend. How could he do such a thing? She murdered two innocent people in front of his very eyes, but yet, he still loved her and cherished her like you’ve never seen.

Was it because she handed you on a silver platter? Maybe so. The two Kim’s were sickening, twisted individuals despite acting like two little angels fallen from above.

And after she left, he surprised you with your very own engagement ring. You no longer had to wear the jewelry that represented a woman that laid six feet in the ground because it was such a heavy burden you had to carry.

The wondering though, stuck to your mind; What would’ve Clara thought of what Seokjin did to you? Would she look at him as if he were a monster? Or would she be happy he found happiness after the accident that took her life, and nearly Jin’s?

You would never know. She was gone and you’d taken over her life against your consent. The house she lived in and planned to stay in with her child was now being resided by you and your child. You never believed in the afterlife, but you could swear you could see a woman in your peripheral from time to time. Maybe it was your guilt…or paranoia that haunted your mind and made you see things that weren’t truly there.

“Sweetheart?” Jin called, looking at you with concern. You blinked, shaking your head as you grasped the collar of your blouse, pulling it down, and allowing your son to latch. He was fast, acting like he’d never been fed before in his life. It made both of you smile and Jin gently caressed his smooth little head, coming closer and pecking the crown of your head.

“He’s perfect, don’t you think so? He questioned, sight lingering on the both of you. You cupped your baby sons cheek on your hand, stroking his skin as you both watched him feed.

“Of course he is. I made him.” You always did say things without thinking. You expected a yell, or a push to your body, but instead, Seokjin only smiled lightly, eyes casted down before he nodded and kissed your cheek. “You’re right. You’re perfect, honey. Are you okay? Do you need anything?”

“No.” You replied with a shake of your head, thoughts straying into a man with brown doe eyes and handful of tattoos, the father of your child. Ever since your baby was born, you wondered how he was doing. Would everything had been different if you told him of your pregnancy? You knew Jungkook, he wouldn’t have ever hesitated to take care of the responsibility that he created.

You missed him even though it was just a few months that you both spent together. Now, you couldn’t ever take things back to the way you wanted them to be.

You were stuck here, perhaps the rest of your life.

But life with Seokjin, as much as you hated it, it wasn’t that bad. He treated you with respect, loved your child as his own, provided you with a beautiful, spacious home, and he was at your every beck and call. Would giving him a chan -

No. The man, though handsome, created your life out of a faux illusion he made and once that world of his that he so desperately wanted, broke, he broke along with it and forced you to stay.

But Jin, wasn’t cruel, in fact, you didn’t believe the man had a mean bone in his body. If you had met him under different circumstances, he would have been a dream come true.

“Have you thought of the date? For our wedding? I was thinking maybe something small, just my mom as our witness, our son, and of course us.” He chuckled.

Of course, us.

He was insane.

Picturing married life with Seokjin was hell. He talked of other children, his children in the future with you when your baby was just a few minutes old, cooing on your chest. He said he couldn’t wait until there were pairs of little feet running around alongside his: maybe a baby girl, just like his angel child that laid in the arms of Clara. You knew he longed for her. The nursery, though prepared for your son, was soon restored to its previous position, waiting for the daughter that he lost.

And you understood his pain now more than ever.

Of course, he hired a very unnecessary interior designer that adorned your son's new room the way you wanted, but the room meant for his daughter was lifeless, abandoned, and cold.

“No. I don’t really have time to plan a wedding Jin. My son-“

He shook his head, brows furrowed whilst pecking the crown of your head. “Of course not, honey. You don’t have to worry about a thing. I promise, if you don’t want to plan, I understand.” A mischievous grin framed his lips. “Just, of course, worry about the destination for our honeymoon, hm? Maybe we can get started on a sibling for our son.”

Your jaw clenched.

You would soon prefer to stab him in the neck before bearing his children.

[mattapparentlystumbltourneys]

Virtual Character Tourney - Round 2 - Bracket Delta - 8

Propaganda below (May contain spoilers!)

Sergey Ushanka propaganda:

(Unclear how much of the history I'm about to give here is true and how much is in-universe urban legend.) Sergey Ushanka was a Russian programmer in the 80s who fell ill with a deadly brain disease. In order to save himself from brain death, Sergey decided to digitize himself… and went about it in a much more violent way than you might think. Cue lines of code written in blood and fed into the machine and a brain violently shoved inside of a PC tower. Impossibly, due to the interference of an eldritch deity that preys on people's fear of technology and being replaced, his plan succeeded, and he did achieve a digital form… of pure unadulterated suffering. His human mind couldn't handle the rigidity of computer code, and now he spends his days stalking the internet, forcing those he encounters to bear witness to the indescribable torment he experiences.

Lil' Hal propaganda:

hes an ai that lives in a pair of glasses. he knows the end of pi. he loves fucking with people so much.

Bastard AI stuck inside a pair of sunglasses. Surprisingly tragic. Somewhat gender goals. Mentally 13 years old. Has cool black and red imagery. A reference to the OG, Hal 9000. A bit of a loser. Claims to have solved pi, likely just to piss off his creator (who he is a digital brainclone of). You know how it goes. Hit The Blorbo Button!!

he's an ai built off a clone of dirk's brain. he's technically 13 years old because of this. he's silly he's sassy he's literally a pair of sunglasses. idk what else to put here i'm not very good at telling people why my silly guys should go in brackets