#THIS JOURNEY DOES NOT NEED TO BE EIGHT HOURS LONG

[pseudophan]

can we please for the love of god take off before i lose my mind

[blushk1tten]

Ok, imagine you're a guest on Chuckle Sandwich, and the topic of Ted going to every MargaritaVille and the Rainforest Cafe comes up. Then, it turns to how you and Schlatt should go to every (whatever restaurant) in the country as a challenge. At first it was a joke, but then it slowly became something you and Schlatt started planning on. And during the trip, you guys starting getting closer and closer, knowing each other more and more. Where at the point you guys are flirting, touching, kissing, and even to the point you guys have sex.

I can even imagine that during one of the hotel rooms you guys were staying at, you accidentally see Schlatt full body naked. And seeing Schlatt absolutely embarrassed about it, you show Schlatt your naked body to make things even between you two.

i’m sorry this took so long but this prompt had me frothing at the mouth. i hope you enjoy <3

"no, because i loved when you went to every margaritaville and rainforest cafe," you explained to ted as you sat sandwiched between him and schlatt on their podcast. "i've had a similar idea for a while. i want to go to at least one cat cafe in every continental state, and along the way promote some shelters for people to adopt at."

ted raised his eyebrows curiously. "really? that sounds pretty cool. maybe you should take schlatt with you, since he's a lonely cat man and all."

"ignoring the fact that having two cats does not make me a lonely cat man," schlatt shot back at ted. "that sounds like a cool idea. i know there's plenty of cats like jambo and the other guy who need adopted."

you couldn't help but laugh a bit. "maybe ted's right. you sound pretty passionate about it for a totally not lonely cat man. you could come with me, and not be so lonely."

"fine!"

with that final word from schlatt, you had accidentally and officially locked yourself into the trip with him. he began to help you research cat cafes and shelters in every state, and helped you to plan the road trip map as well. that was only the start of the two of you getting closer. on the trip, it was a whole different thing.

"let's play twenty-one questions!" you suggested after leaving the cat cafe in austin, heading for your hotel and the next one in louisiana. after all, you had a roughly eight hour drive ahead of you.

schlatt scoffed, looking over at you. "isn't that a game for teenagers tryin' t' date someone?"

"no," you protested back. "it's for people to get to know each other better! i'll go first if you're going to be a dick. what's your favorite animal other than cats?"

he paused for a minute, then admitted his answer in a gruff voice. "bearded dragons. i used t’ have one when i was younger. he was a chill dude."

"see, that's nice, and i learned something new about you," you gave him a small smile. "now you ask me a question."

"are you a virgin?"

"schlatt! i'm not answering that."

the game continued to go similarly, with you asking genuine questions to get to know schlatt, while he asked raunchier questions to poke fun at you and get under your skin. about halfway through your journey though, you gave in, and began to answer him.

"what's your biggest turn on?"

"any kind of intimate touch."

he raised his eyebrows, surprised that he finally got an answer. "intimate touch? what does that mean?"

you could feel your face grow hot as you tried to explain. "any touch from a partner of mine, even if it's casual."

"even if they, like, shake your hand?"

that eased the tension, and you burst out into laughter as you shook your head. "okay, maybe not any touch."

with each leg of the trip, the two of you learned more about each other and grew closer. about halfway through the trip though, was when things began to heat up between the two of you. it wasn’t uncommon for the two of you to flirt or use pet names with the other.

“hey, toots,” he called to you, keeping his voice quiet so he didn’t startle the cats. “look at this one. i think it likes me.”

you couldn’t but giggle from your spot on the floor, where a gaggle of cats and kittens had been swarming you for affection. throughout your trip, you had come to find that most of the cats preferred you to schlatt. some found his large stature imposing, while others just didn’t like men, so it was a special moment whenever any cats would come up to him. this time, it was an old, graying tabby, purring loudly from its spot on schlatt’s lap.

“the first time you’ve ever gotten pussy in your life, big guy?” you teased, standing up and moving to sit beside him.

“oh, fuck you,” he scoffed softly, though he looked at you with a smile. “he just knows i’m the better person out of us. look, he’s not interested in you at all.”

it was true. the cat was completely content with schlatt and paying no attention to you. meanwhile, you couldn’t help but pay attention to schlatt. with a soft smile on his face as he scratched the cat’s chin and back, he looked endearing. dare you say it, he looked handsome. you couldn’t help it when you leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek.

schlatt stopped petting the cat instantly, looking at you with surprise in his brown eyes. then, after a moment, he spoke up. “you missed.”

this time, you could feel the surprise on your face as he leaned in again and kissed you on your lips, soft and tender. it wasn’t until the cat on schlatt’s lap meowed in displeasure at the lack of pets that you broke apart.

“i’ll— i’ll edit that out.” you stammered, glancing at the various cameras you had set up while schlatt resumed petting the cat.

“yeah,” he nodded, a light blush on his cheeks. “that sounds good.”

from that point on, flirting and pet names came with the addition of kisses. sometimes they happened on camera in the cat cafes, while other times one of you would invite the other over to their hotel room for a heated makeout session. soon enough though, the trip was coming to an end. you only had a few more cat cafes left before the road trip was over. that would mean an end to the flirting, the pet names, and the kisses that managed to steal your breath each time.

you were thinking about it forlornly as you headed to schlatt’s hotel room, hoping for a nice makeout session to cheer you up. he had actually given you the extra key, so you didn’t think twice as you swiped the card and opened his door. however, you didn’t even make it a step in before you noticed schlatt, completely nude with his bath towel in hand.

“oh my god!” you exclaimed, catching his attention as well.

the last thing you saw before turning on your heel and slamming the door was a glimpse of something massive between his thighs, heat filling your face as you ran back to your own room. you had no idea how you would address that incident, nor did you know if you wanted to. the flirting, pet names, and kissing was one thing, but seeing him naked and anything beyond that was something else.

eventually, you heard the buzz of a keycard opening up your room, though you kept your gaze firmly on the floor as you sat at the end of your bed.

“doll,” schlatt spoke up after a moment. “i’m not mad at you or anything. i gave you a keycard t’ my room so you could come whenever you wanted. i should’ve changed in the bathroom or said somethin’ when i heard the door.”

you shook your head, hoping that any embarrassment on your face was gone as you looked up. “no, jay, it’s my fault. i should’ve knocked before coming in.”

he sat down next to you on the bed. “we both could’ve done stuff differently, but hey, shit happens.”

you nodded, the wheels in your brain turning. you wanted to make it up to him somehow. then, it hit you. the best— or possibly the worst— idea that you had ever had. “i could get naked and let you see to make up for it.”

schlatt went silent for a moment, staring at you as if you had just spoken another language. “what?”

“i’m serious,” you told him. “i got to see you, so you should get to see me. then, we’ll be even.”

his throat bobbed as he swallowed. then, he nodded. “well, toots, better get to it.”

with that, you stood up and began to strip, first pulling off your top, then tugging your shorts down. the whole time, you could feel your heart pounding. you’d gotten naked in the past for others, but something about doing it for schlatt, the same schlatt you’d been growing feelings for, felt different. still, you continued, taking off your bra and underwear as well until you were finally naked in front of him. schlatt’s first words were the same as yours.

“oh my god, doll,” he took a sharp breath as he looked you over, his eyes beginning to smolder with lust. “you look perfect. like everything i’ve imagined and more.”

you couldn’t help but blush, though you were a bit surprised as well. “what do you mean everything you’ve imagined?”

schlatt blinked, his lust fading in confusion. “doll, you have t’ know how much i want ya by now, i just— i didn’t want t’ make you uncomfortable, so i took what i could get.”

“what do you mean when you say you want me?”

“platonically, sexually, romantically. whatever i can get.”

it felt like a weight came off your shoulders when schlatt said that, and you couldn’t help but smile as you walked forward to sit on his lap. “what about all of the above?”

he nodded, then like so many other times, he leaned in to kiss you. this time though, it was different, full of a special kind of passion that came with knowing your feelings were reciprocated. of course, there was also the fact that you were completely naked in schlatt’s lap, his hands running over every inch of skin he could reach.

“jay,” you whined between kisses. “wanna fuck you.”

“fuck, hold on, doll. lemme get my clothes off and get you prepped.”

he didn't take long in stripping, allowing you to finally get a good look at his body. that included his long, thick cock, hanging heavy between his thighs and curving slightly to the left.

"how is that supposed to fit?" you mumbled quietly to yourself, though schlatt chuckled as he heard.

"don't worry, doll," he promised, moving down and pressing a kiss to your clit. "i'll make sure you're nice and wet f' me."

you couldn't help but gasp as he dived in, your fingers tangling in his hair as he ate your pussy like it was his last meal. his own fingers were busy playing with your clit, as he drank up the slick coming from your cunt. "jay!"

schlatt moved and pressed a kiss to your clit before pulling back with a grin, switching to sliding two fingers in your pussy. "c'mon, doll. we're just getting started,"

a high-pitched whine left your mouth, and your back arched as he began to search for the spot that would make you fall apart. it didn't take long either, his grin growing as you called out for him again. "there it is. that's my pretty girl, soakin' my fuckin' fingers. are you gonna cum, baby?"

you nodded, crying out as he began to suck your clit as well. it was your undoing, and you quickly reached your orgasm as he continued to pump his fingers. "i'm cumming, jay! i'm cumming!"

he pulled off and gently pulled his fingers out, face shining slightly with your slick. "good girl. did that feel okay?"

once again, you nodded, panting for breath. "felt amazing."

schlatt leaned in to kiss you, a string of slick connecting your lips as he pulled back. you both laughed, and he pulled back further to break it. "so, are you ready for the rest?"

"yes please," you murmured, him carefully getting into position over you. "just be gentle."

"i promise." he replied, leaning in again to give you a quick kiss before he pushed in.

despite how wet and open you felt, schlatt was big enough that it was a stretch. your nails dug into his back, and you couldn't stop the whimper that escaped you. "oh my god, oh my god—"

he stopped for a minute, looking down at you in concern. still, you could see how hard he was working to keep still. "you okay, doll?"

"just give me a minute. your dick is fucking massive."

the two of you stayed in silence, each trying not to move until you finally gave the go ahead. this time, as schlatt finished pushing in and began to move, you could feel pleasure starting to run up your spine.

"feeling better?" he grinned, his smug attitude beginning to return as the pleasure was clear on your face.

"mhm," you agreed, beginning to roll your hips in time with his thrusts. "feeling a lot better— fuck!"

he adjusted your position into a mating press, making it so you could hear the wet sounds of your pussy as he thrust in, and let out a groan. "fuck, doll. your pussy's so wet f' me. gonna pump you full of cum, get ya even more slick,"

you couldn't help but whimper, clenching around his cock at that statement and making him chuckle a bit. "you like that idea? me fillin' you up with all my cum, gettin' your tummy all round?"

"please," you begged with a sob, making him pick up his pace with another groan. "please breed me, jay!"

"shit, doll, is that it? you want me to make you a mama?"

you nodded, drunk with pleasure. "mhm, please, jay. need your cum so bad."

"you'll get it doll," he grunted, moving his hand down to your clit as well. "just give me a minute. want you to cum too."

sure enough, it didn't take much longer for schlatt's thrusts to grow sloppy and his breathing to grow ragged. "you ready, baby?"

"yes, jay," you moaned, back arching once again as you felt your orgasm building. "gonna cum!"

"then cum, doll. need you to cum so i can give you a baby." he grunted, fingers continuing to dexterously play with your clit.

that was all it took for you to peak, tumbling over the edge with a cry. you could feel yourself milking schlatt as you came, causing him to cum shortly after. you couldn't help but feel tears prick at your eyes from the full feeling. it was everything you could have dreamt of with schlatt and more.

he helped you clean up afterwards, gentle and caring, before snuggling with you in bed.

"so," he eventually murmured, playing with your hair. "we're going to keep this up for the rest of the trip, and even after, right?"

you smiled softly, cuddling closer to him and giving him a kiss. "i think we'll be doing this for a long time to come."

[alana-reid-2005]

spencer reid x reader ౨ৎ you’ve been reassigned indefinitely to the bau’s nyc office; spencer helps you pack for the move

p.s. did i write this to cope with the fact that i’m moving 30 minutes away from home for college? you know me too well.

Five hours isn’t that long of a drive. If you could somehow convince Erin Strauss to let you borrow the BAU’s plane, the journey would be cut to a mere hour and a half. You don’t know if this move will be permanent, but you try to forget about that for now and focus on packing. You stuff your winter coat into your already full suitcase. You’re about ready to sit on top of your suitcase to attempt to close it. October’s just around the corner, and New York gets chilly with a capital “C,” even more so than Quantico.

It’ll be your first Halloween away from Spencer in seven years, you think morosely. Spencer knows how to celebrate the spooky season. Halloween is his Christmas as evidenced by the multiple excursions to the local pumpkin patch and trips to various haunted houses he takes you on each year. And that’s not to mention how he invites you over on the thirty-first to witness him spooking the kids in his apartment building with his various monster or ghoul costumes before treating them to king size candy bars.

You’re gonna miss that more than you’d like to admit.

You’re pulled from your thoughts as Spencer stumbles in, carrying a box full of knick knacks he’s making you choose from after reasoning with you that, “Seasonal depression is very real, and making your house a home is one small way to remedy the feelings of loneliness.”

He bumps his hip hard into your closet doorknob on his way over to you but barely seems to register it.

“Careful hon-“

“Hey, did you know that the subway system is actually way better than people make it out to be?” He sets down the box with a little huff before continuing, his hands immediately going up to make gestures as he speaks. “According to a New York Times analysis I saw this morning, there’s only about one violent crime per one million rides. And that rate is only going down as ridership increases, so I think it’s your safest bet for getting around the city, all things considered.”

You smile up at him. Here’s another thing you’re gonna miss. You’d drop all your life’s responsibilities if it meant you could hear him explain the world to you all day long.

He kneels beside you where you’re bent over your suitcase. “Anyway, I brought you some holiday decor! Pick as many as you can fit in your luggage. I’ll mail you the rest.”

He’s not quite smiling, but you can sense the joy radiating from him like steam from a thermal geyser.

“It’s barely September, Spence.” You try not to let your voice break. You just can’t muster his level of enthusiasm when you know you’ll be leaving him soon. Too soon.

“Hey, hey, what’s wrong?” He must’ve noticed you were off earlier today. Mercifully, he hadn’t mentioned it sooner, or you would’ve been bawling like a baby at eight in the morning. More than often, you feel this is the curse of your chosen profession: to always know how you and those around you feel but never how to help them or yourself.

“Please don’t cry, angel.” His arms are around you in an instant, easing your chin to his shoulder. He slides his hands down to rub your back, applying just the right amount of pressure to coax your body to melt into his.

“It’s gonna be okay, I promise.” He tilts back, arms tightening around your mid back until you’re almost in his lap. Physical touch is by far not on the top of his list of love languages, but he needs you to know how much he’s gonna miss you.

“I’m sorry,” you sob.

“You have nothing to apologize for,” he murmurs, stroking your hair gently. “I’m driving up to see you every weekend. And you’re flying in for Thanksgiving. I think Garcia said she’d host this year.”

“Aw, Penelope always does the best job,” you sniffle, unable to help the grin that breaks over your face.

Spencer pulls back, beaming just as bright. Once your expression softens, he pulls you in for a kiss, painfully saccharine in its tenderness.

You’re gonna miss his coffee breath most of all.

[siriussimon]

A Vampire Romance

Vampire Au - Ghoap x reader Cw - Violence, Blood, Gore, Sexual themes, foul language, Angst, mental illness

[This came to me suddenly, not proofread. enjoy. xx]

The day had begun like it always has. You awoke from your restless slumber, eyes squinting from the sparkling sun that cascaded across your bed.

Rubbing at your eyes you yawned and got up to start the day as you always have. You find a routine helps relax your mind and keep you busy— it keeps those thoughts away. The ones that eat at your brain, slowly chipping away at your walls that you’ve built up to keep you safe and sound.

Just breathe and all will be well.

Routine. Back to the routine. It was pretty mundane. Normal but it made sure you were doing what you were supposed to, to keep you living, and not an utter mess.

Your home— if you could even call it that. Was more of like a little nook in a wall. Very small and compacted. It creaked and groaned as you walked about doing your business. You could hear the busyness of the city just outside your barred windows. Then you were off to work, taking the trains to your first shift of the day. A small cafe where you waitress during the busy ours of early birds.

There’s the long walk to your destination after getting off your stop but you never minded it. Said to yourself it was good exercise, healthy. Humming to one of your favorite songs as you adjusted your headphones on your head.

Let’s hope for a good day.

You finally arrived to work. Bernie’s. A quaint little place filled with regulars, families, elderly. Nothing ever out of the ordinary happened when you worked. Sure sometimes customers can be grumpy at times but Bernie’s was your saving grace. It was the extra help you needed.

You smiled sweetly at familiar faces, going to the back to get ready for your eight hour shift. Tying your apron around your waist and stuffing your notebook and pen in your pocket.

Let’s do this.

When 4 o’clock hits it’s time to head out for the dead. You were in the back by your locker sighing as you looked at the tips you made today. It was sad to say the least. Luckily tonight meant it was your night shift at Blue Bourbon. You were packing your backpack up when you felt a hand tap your shoulder making you jump.

“Great work today! Always keeping the customers happy.” Oh— it was just your boss Bernie. A sweet elderly fellow that took you in when you needed the extra cash. He mouthed a small sorry when he noticed he gave you a small fright.

“Thanks, B. I’ll see you Monday?” You smile, pulling your bag over your shoulder as you headed towards the exit.

He gives you a silly salute, and you giggle before making your big journey back to the train station. Blue Bourdon was on the other side of the city which meant it took you an hour just to get there. Sometimes even more because the city is always moving, always a constant. By the time you get there it’s getting close to 7. The sun setting early this season.

The atmosphere is different at the Blue Bourbon. There are big time people that come in. It was a fancy strip club on the fancy side of the city. That meant you had to change out of your old clothes into a skimpy little dress. It’s black and tight around all your curves. Not something you’re used to wearing so out of all the girls you’re the only one that wears a pair of sheer tights around your legs, to feel some sort of security. The girls greeted you as you walked out of the changing room in the back.

“Girl, you are smoking. I wish I had that ass.” Violet, Vi— whistled at you as you sat down to touch up your makeup in front of the vanity. You could hear the muffled sounds of the loud music just right outside. Your face flushed which just made Vi giggled.

“Still the shy little fawn huh?”

“God, will you ever drop it?” You laugh with a slight grimace. Fawn. A doe eyed deer the girls would call you when you first were hired. You’d never worn big heels and tight dresses before that when you first walked out of the dressing room your legs were shaking like a newborn fawn. Face speckled red with embarrassment, you felt ridiculous. And the nickname Fauna was given to you. Silver name tag shining above your breast.

You were still just a waitress. There was no way you’d ever walk out on stage. The pay was decent, and it helped pay for the rent. Maybe, if you were more confident and sure you wouldn’t be slumming it but you made do.

“Nope! Love ya, sweetie. See you out there?” Vi chirped as she gave you a smooch on the cheek, adjusting her tiny bra as she got ready to go on stage.

“Sure thing, Vi.” You only murmured with a small smile. You saw her disappear behind the curtains. It was time to get out there yourself.

Here you go.

You walked beyond the curtain to another world. Blue lights illuminated the inside, dark, and sensual for the guests inside. You could feel the music in your bones and it woke you up. One of the managers came up to you with a stressed look on their face. Oh no.

"Fauna, I need you in lounge 141 asap. Pixie called out last minute and I know you're not usually upstairs but my hands are tied."

Fuck. Just your luck. The lounge meant your role is a whole different ball game, one you were not used to but you didn't want to lose your job so you just smiled and agreed like a kiss-ass.

"Sure thing. I'm on it."

"You're a lifesaver! Counting on you, these are important clients so be good!"

Before they left they gave you instructions on what drinks they like and how they are a particular bunch. This puts you on edge but you complied anyhow. The click of your heels was muffled by the sound around the club as you made your way upstairs, ice bucket in hand filled with different liquor of their choice. Being in the lounge meant you had to be very attentive to the client's needs. Butter them up, and get them drinks, it even allowed the clients to get handsy if they paid extra for their lounge. That's what made you nervous. The power of being a waitress downstairs meant that clients weren't allowed to touch you on the floor. You were just there to take orders and hand out drinks, nothing extra. This wasn't what you signed up for.

Deep breathe.

You pulled back the curtain and you definitely weren't prepared for the four men sitting there. They were intimidating, enormous, rugged, and had some years on them. The small space was foggy from the smoke that left a pair of lips. The one who looked the oldest had mutton chops, and a big cigar hanging from his mouth. His arm was wrapped around one of the men, his skin dark, and his face pretty. Then there were the other two, one with a mohawk and the other had an adoring scar across his lip, hair an ashy blonde. They sat side by side and seemed to be sharing a cigarette.

"Now, who might you be?" The man with the cigar said as you set the ice bucket on the table in the middle of the circle booth. You didn't realize your hands were shaking, you clasped your hands in front of you as you gave your best smile.

"You can call me Fauna, I'm filling in for Pixie toni-"

"Lik' fawn? Ye git th' legs fur it." The one with the mohawk whistles low, his accent thick, Scottish you believe. His eyes trailed you up and down with no shame. You instantly feel the heat hitting your face, your mouth agape from the interruption. Hopefully, they couldn't tell. You were about to speak again but another voice spoke. The voice is deep and not American sounding either. You couldn't quite place it yet.

"Behave, you fuckin' mutt."

Man, he spooked you. But his words hit a spot inside you, a feeling you've never felt before. Almost like butterflies in the pit of your stomach.

Then there was a bit of laughter shared before the oldest stood up with the pretty boy still draped along his side, his face nuzzling into his neck intimately. This was all too much. You were not used to this. You felt like you shouldn't be here right now, it's so hot in here, its too muc-

"It was nice meeting you, love but it's time for my boy and I to go. Good luck.." He whispered the end of his sentence to you and he gave one more glance to the other two with a grin before taking his leave with what you assume is his boyfriend. This is so strange. But you had a job to do. Make the customers happy.

"Um, anyway, I'm here to get you gentlemen whatever you need. More whiskey?" You asked, grabbing the glass bottle from the ice, popping the top off, and pouring some into the blonde's cup. When pouring the Scots drink you had to lean over the table a bit, there was no space to walk over when the huge brooding blonde legs were in the way. You could feel your dress hiking up in this position and suddenly you felt a large warm hand glide up the back of your thigh. You shot up straight with a squeak 'Nice tights' you could hear the blonde mumble, before you stepped back a bit to create space, his hand falling in his lap.

"'n' ye tellt me tae behave, Simon!" The Scot scoffed with a laugh as he knocked his knee against Simons. Simon only grumbled out one thing and it sounded like a playful warning. Johnny.

Simon and Johnny.

You just tugged at your dress a bit, mumbling a small thank you. You closed the cap on the bottle before placing it back into the ice bucket. Now there you stood with your hands clasped in front of you. This was awkward. God, you wanted to leave. Instead, you're getting groped by a dangerously handsome man. You couldn't help staring at them, observing them, both were handsome and rugged in their own ways. You can't deny beauty when you see it.

"Juist lik' a deer caught in headlights. We dinnae bite, sweetness" Johnny smiled wide, his teeth white and shining, and you couldn't help but notice that his canine teeth looked shar-

"Come 'ere love, hae a seat." He gestured, stopping your thoughts and bringing you back to the present. You stepped forward towards the booth once more, Simon's huge frame still in the way, blocking an entrance to Johnny. Simon sat there sipping his drink as if you weren't trying to get across. Then Johnny scooted closer to Simon, the space between them now gone, your brows furrowing with confusion. Where were you going to sit now?

"Siiii..." Johnny sings urging him to do something, and that something makes you gasp. His arm wrapped around your waist pulling you over his lap. Your legs filtered between the space where he spread his thighs wide for you. Your bum rested on the large muscle of his. Just like taking a photo with Santa during the holidays. Your hands instantly flew to his chest, careful to not fall right on top of him from the sudden moment. You caught a small tug of Simons's lip as he drank his whiskey, his other hand resting on your hip.

Johnny starts talking but you feel like you're outside your body. You nod half listening too focused on the feeling of his fingers softly grazing one of your knees, too focused on when Simon squeezes your hip here and then, like he's telling you to pay attention to Johnny.

And that’s all that became of your night. They never asked you for anything, never went beyond their simple touches in that moment. It was like all you were there for was a vessel to listen to them talk. Or at least Johnny talk. Simon was silent the entire time. Simon carefully set you to your feet and made sure you were steady, both collecting their coats to leave before the sun came back up. You didn't even realize how late it was. It was a blur, your mind had gone foggy, it was strange like you were in a trance.

Before leaving Johnny handed you a huge wad of cash, more than you've ever gotten here in the six years of your employment at Blue Bourbon.

"Cheers fur th' evenin', sweetness" He winked before giving your bum a tap, your face flushing once more as you watched them leave. Johnny is slightly in front of Simon. Simon's hand wrapped at the back of his neck guiding him towards the exit. Your eyes glanced back down to the pile of cash in your shaky hands.

What just happened?

[bakudekuficlibrary]

BakuDeku Post-War Chronicles: Teacher Midoriya Izuku & Pro Hero Bakugou Katsuki

1 Series, 28 Works.

C'mon...Deku by fairykats ( T | 16,283 | 9/9 )

Izuku looks at the clock on the wall. He still has half an hour left of his lunch break. Usually, he’s joined by one of his coworkers, but they're apparently busy today, leaving him alone with his thoughts.

He pulls out his phone, because he’s not about to break down in the middle of the school day. He opens YouTube and starts up what might possibly be his favorite non-quirk analysis video on the internet: “60 minutes of Pro Hero Dynamight Yelling at randoms, pt. 6."

Or: the fix-it fic you didn't know you needed after MHA's final chapter.

The In-Betweens by Mister_awesomesauce ( G | 6,355 | 1/1)

Izuku and Katsuki are (not-so) respectable twenty-five year olds making their way in the world after the war ended. Sometimes, in the in-betweens of their busy lives, they find time for each other.

( If those in-betweens tend to involve copious amounts of soju and confessions that they will both remember to forget in the morning, then they wouldn't dare change a thing about it. )

Side by Side by daniartonline ( T | 10,210 | 1/1 )

“Well,” he says at last, mumbling slightly, “You could always teach.” Izuku immediately straightens in his seat, his attention shifting purposefully back toward Katsuki as a surprised, “What?” escapes his lips. Katsuki narrows his eyes, surprised that Izuku hasn’t already thought of it himself. As if he hasn’t been following in the man’s footsteps his entire life. As if he didn’t visit his house every weekend. “Like All Might did. After he retired.”

-

Katsuki offers Izuku a much-needed lifeline, but little does he know all the sacrifices Katsuki's been making to keep him by his side.

Count to Infinity by socksasgloves ( T | 87,244 | 24/24 )

Former hero course student, Izuku Midoriya, is Quirkless once more and has adjusted to life as a U.A. teacher well. His closest relationship is with his childhood friend, Katsuki Bakugou, a well-off Pro Hero who has stuck by his side all these years. Despite both of them living comfortably, Bakugou has been keeping a big secret from his friend: his own plan to get his number one rival back in the field.

Or: What happened between Deku and Kacchan in the 8-year time gap.

You Gave Me Purpose, Kacchan by wowschreave ( T | 42,004 | 22/22 )

UA Teacher Izuku x Pro Hero Katsuki; basically a fic about the eight-year gap!

This is a journey about two heroes as they navigate their paths post-war and fall in love.

All I Need is You by lurethegalaxy ( E | 4,757 | 1/1 )

The energy in the room is absolutely electric as Kacchan's pants fall to the floor, revealing long lines of beautiful skin, all the way up to a perfectly hard and flushed—

“No underwear?” Izuku asks on a punched-out breath.

“I missed you,” is all Kacchan says in explanation, petulant and impatient.

----

In which Katsuki surprises Izuku with a visit, says he's celebrating something, but refuses to tell Izuku what. So Izuku finds a better use for that mouth, instead.

how i long for our trysts by nikkiRA ( E | 2,164 | 1/1 )

Most nights the only thing he has the energy for is crawling into bed beside Izuku and falling immediately to sleep. It’s why they’re taking such a risk and doing this here.

That and because it’s hot. Sneaking away to fuck like they were teenagers again. That and Izuku’s suit. Katsuki has a Thing for Izuku’s suit, how nicely it contours to his body, how strong he looks in it. Anytime Izuku got dressed up, all Katsuki could focus on was how much he wanted to undress him.

Eight years and counting by silverynight ( T |. 3,650 | 1/1 )

"For young Midoriya?"

All Might already knows it's for Izuku, but the question is not exactly about that and Katsuki is perfectly aware of it; he can see it in the soft smile of Izuku's mentor, he can see it in the way his blue eyes shine with knowledge.

Katsuki blushes, but he doesn't look away from the former symbol of peace. He's not that middle schooler hot-heated kid anymore. He's done hiding his feelings behind anger and he's not ashamed about what he feels for Izuku. He's pretty sure All Might knows about that, he's probably waiting for a confirmation.

Katsuki nods, blush spreading down his neck.

"It'll take years to make something like that."

"I'm aware."

"Bakugou, I know you want to kill someone with your knees, please, just not my students." by Shellrazorr ( T | 4,139 | 1/1 )

He did this out of affection, really. His teaching habits were leaning too far into “throwing caution into the wind” rather than “cool laid back teacher who was only strict if you pushed.” And he really didn’t want to get fired.

So here he was, his saving grace, Katsuki Bakugou. He was smart with kids, even if he didn’t act like it. He’d know what to do.

I really should’ve gotten my bachelors in education. I think this is totally illegal.

Or: Bakugou helps Midoriya with a class, and quickly learns his students are idiots.

Everything Stays by Melon_Cauli ( T | 34,628 | 7/7 )

They were different after the war. Everyone in Class 2-A was.

Even if they tried to pretend the opposite, slipping into old habits felt like a cheap facade, especially when the proof of their change was displayed so clearly for the world to see. Their bodies littered in darkening bruises, broken bones, and scars mapped across their skin; some worse than others, their quirks permanently impaired by jumping into battle far too soon, far too young.

There were just some questions that a 16-year-old should never have to answer: How do you deal with losing a part of yourself that had been there all your life? How do you clean off the blood on your hands paid in the price of incompetence?

— or Bakugou Katsuki and Midoriya Izuku navigate a life after the war, and a life with each other.

you're all i need by wiltedcyclamen ( M | 12,408+ | 3/? )

A walk home goes wrong.

The Blame Game by lettersinpetals ( T | 46,862 | 20/20 )

Six years after settling into his life as a teacher in U.A., Izuku’s life is upended once more when All Might gives him a superpowered suit. With the elation comes anxiety, and Izuku finds himself hesitating to return to active hero duty… so he doesn’t. Even after All Might makes the announcement to the public. Even after his friends leave eager voice messages.

And then Izuku is snowballed into accepting a ‘special role’ in a brand new reality TV show, which will star the most famous class of U.A. — theirs. For just one night, all of them will be placed in a cabin and there’s only one rule: no quirks allowed.

It will be the first time that Izuku and Katsuki will be seeing each other in six years. Surely, everything they’ve left unsaid can hold still for at least one more night, right?

Kacchan vs the Internet by palavering ( T | 34,546+ | 11/? )

Katsuki figures out he’s in love with his childhood best friend, sworn rival, and hero partner with the help of the internet.

r/AmItheAsshole • Posted by u/BoomBoomGod 8 hours ago AITA for punching my best friend for implying that I’m in love and acting like a sugar daddy to my other (childhood) best friend?

Featuring:

/HeroDeku /HeroDynamight /AITA /NoStupidQuestions /offmychest TikTok, Twitter, Discord, Texting, and Class 1-A.

Pro-hero Dynamight x Teacher Deku Works by heartpartsix ( Not Rated | 12,192+ | 6 Works )

An unsorted collection of all my Pro-Hero Dynamight x Teacher Deku works.

CURRENTLY PUBLISHED: 1. In the doorway 2. Dynamight 3. Fall into me 4. For you 5. As long as you need me 6. Waste

by the watershed by passengerside ( T | 4,940 | 1/1 )

Katsuki is the number three Pro Hero who deals with citywide emergencies on the regular, but it’s this self-sacrificial reckless little asshole that constantly has him flirting with another heart attack. Cardiac rehab kicked his ass for two years, and it still never covered how to deal with Deku. “Dynamight-san,” Izuku says slowly, "I uh, didn't call anyone in." "Yeah. I noticed."

izuku fights a battle alone, and katsuki reacts accordingly

Crazy by Exultasaurus ( M | 1,026 | 1/1 )

I actually cannot get them out of my head, so here's a cute little 1k short story about pro hero Bakugou and Midoriya Sensei the night of getting his new hero suit. Izuku gets a bit too excited about a new offer and well...you'll read the rest.

Untitled No. 430 by Cloudsu ( T | 2,548 | 1/1 )

In the grand scheme of things, this was not the way Izuku wanted his life to go. He never wanted this for himself, never saw himself from the sidelines, even when that's the only thing that seemed realistic. Despite all that, he's happy. He's got his Kacchan, got his kids, and all his amazing friends. But, one little question dropped from familiar lips makes the delicate house of cards he's been building crash down.

“Do you ever get angry, Izuku?"

bidding on love by omontz ( T | 3,320 | 1/1 )

Izuku engages in a bidding war for a special limited-edition gold Dynamight standee. Unfortunately for him, dekusdumbbf is out to ruin his life.

all my emotions feel like explosions (when you are around) by tiffaniesblews ( T | 4,207 | 1/1 )

He really could not think of a time in his life that didn’t include Midoriya Izuku.

OR: Bakugou pines for 4200 words.

Tired by ZhoRex ( T | 1,574 | 1/1 )

Izuku Midoriya was beyond tired. Not just physically tired—though that was very real given he hadn’t slept in four days—but mentally tired. He had papers to grade, lessons to prepare, villains to track down, and… his boyfriend.

Inspired by a fanart.

Bakugo is not very subtle when it comes to Izuku. Izuku is so done with him.

Also Kirishima is the best wingman.

Friends with Benefits by Multihappydayz ( E | 2,679 | 1/1 )

Izuku felt like he had a sign plastered to his back that read, "I'm sleeping with pro-hero Great Explosion Murder God Dynamight!"

Adult Money, Adult Problems by MJBunnyLuv ( G | 2,220 | 1/1 )

Since becoming a teacher at UA, Izuku has struggled with one thing…budgeting. In fact, he makes more money as a teacher than he did as a pro hero for those two years after graduation. And that’s a problem. Not because he can afford a nicer apartment or help out his mom – those are both good things! But because now he has extra income and it all goes to his growing collection of Great Explosion Murder God Dynamight merch.

Series Part 82 of BKDK Drabbles

Embers by UglyGreenJacket ( T | 3,078 | 1/1 )

Izuku stands in the hallway, his gaze unseeing. He’s soaked from head to toe, even though a closed umbrella is clutched in his hand, and there’s a look on his face that will haunt Katsuki well beyond that night. A look that says he’s lost something that can never be replaced.

“Izuku?” Katsuki asks in a tone far gentler than most will ever hear from him, afraid that if he speaks too loudly, Izuku might bolt.

Izuku’s eyes focus at the sound of Katsuki’s voice and his mouth opens. His jaw works like he can’t quite fathom what he’s about to say. “Kacchan,” he says, “It’s gone. T-the last of the embers…they’re–they’re gone.”

Teachers Pet by Fallendarkangel13 ( E | 5,294 | 1/1 )

TAKES PLACE AFTER MHA 430!!

Conflicting work schedules would always be the bane of Izuku’s and Katsuki’s existence. It’d been too many patrolling night shifts or early-morning class prep for either of them to find the time to care for each other as intimately as they used to. It went from hardcore, hour long lovemaking to quick touches and too short orgasms in the span of three months as Izuku returned back to teaching after the summer break and could no longer accommodate Katsuki's frantic pro-hero schedule.

Katsuki intended to change that.

--

Or: Katsuki wants his hot teacher of a boyfriend to fuck him after seeing how he reacts to being called "sensei" and dresses in his old UA uniform to make it happen

lets be still by ladyofsnails ( Not Rated | 3,490 | 1/1)

Izuku just stared at him for a second, still unable to think of anything to say. He had had so much in his head on the way over, all day today, since the very second All Might gave him that mechanical briefcase and said that “Young Bakugou” had led the fundraising efforts. But now, starting Katsuki in the eyes, standing on his front step, Izuku Midoriya was entirely speechless. It was impossible. The world he was living in was impossible.

“Izuku…,” Katsuki said slowly. “What’s up?”

Series Part 26 of snail has dkbk brainrot

The Snaps from the Same Little Breaks in Your Soul by potatopie (T | 16,078 | 1/1 )

"Seeing the way you two are with each other, it helped me realize what I was missing from my own relationship. Let’s just say you’ve raised the bar considerably. I don’t want to be with someone unless they look at me the way you both look at each other.”

She’s confused when Bakugou’s and Midoriya’s faces both pale while Shinso starts snickering and Kirishima’s eyebrows go up cartoonishly.

“I-I what do you - we’re not” Midoriya is now stammering and blushing, looking to Bakugou who just looks down silently.

Or

The one where Katsuki is such a good boyfriend to Izuku that someone sees this and is inspired to dump their own shitty boyfriend. Even though he's not actually Izuku's boyfriend.

AKA

The post-canon fic where Izuku is a teacher at U.A. and Katsuki still takes care of him.

Series Part 1 of Post-Canon BKDK

Midoriya-sensei's boyfriend by silverynight ( T | 2,106 | 1/1 )

"Midoriya-sensei?"

"Yes?"

"Is pro hero Dynamight your boyfriend?"

Izuku wishes he didn't blush that often because it makes it look like he's lying. He gets those questions a lot, but hasn't gotten used to them.

"No."

"Are you dating a pro hero?"

"No."

"Is he your husband then?"

"No." Izuku holds himself back from covering his red face with both arms like he did in high-school when he was too flustered. "Ka–I mean, Dynamight-san and I are friends. There's nothing else to it."

see you at home by marsbarrss ( T | 4,976 | 1/1 )

“Deku, you dumbass, you forgot your lunch again,” he grumbles, pushing the wrapped lunch box into his hands. The floral print flashes up at him. “Ah, Kacchan, you don’t have to make me lunch, seriously!” Izuku flounders, but he accepts the offering anyway. He sort of has to, or else Katsuki will flip his shit. “I can just eat at home…” The class immediately erupts in chatter, jumping to question both men about their relationship.

Five times Katsuki disrupted Izuku at work, and one time Izuku disrupts Katsuki at work.

Carpe Diem, Baby by NoBinoDino ( G | 6,490 | 1/1 )

Before anyone can move, an explosion is set off right next to Kouta’s head. He ducks, rolls, and then whips a hand out to pour water over the leftover flames.

“Okay, what the actual fuck is wrong with Deku-sensei?!” he hears Ueda shout from somewhere behind him.

He looks up, curious, only to be met with another explosion, this time directly in front of him.

“Shit! Shit, shit, shit, that’s fucking Dynamight!”

[Or: UA first year Kouta and his classmates must face off against pro hero Bakugou Katsuki. Spoiler alert; he's kind of an asshole]

I'm just a girl, and this is just our collective bakudeku brat summer. post-war duo has taken over my brain chemistry so here ya go!

(if y'all have any favorites not on here, lemme know so I can add 'em to the list!)

also, been re-formatting the blog to fix broken hyperlinks and give things a good refresh. not much will change, bUT I may be adding pages for doujinshi/zine info, merch/small artist info, bkdk song-of-the-week, etc etc (if you nerds are into that kinda thing;p)

~Gabs ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ

[knightfcll]

nightcap

welt x reader, 1.6k

note: 🤪 im like not even caught up but i love this gilf tew much okay bye. My first reader fic on da blog, blease be nice 2 me <3

content notes: ❗️❗️🔞🔞🔞❗️❗️ explicit smut here, minors do NOT interact!!! Reader is gender neutral, no specific references to pronouns/body type/genitalia for reader, brief oral sex, penetrative sex, reader calls welt “mr yang” a lot 🥴

The Astral Express is quiet. You've finally returned after another long and difficult journey on another strange, new planet. Everyone else has retired to their own rooms for a well deserved rest, but you still wander the halls. Mr. Yang had stayed behind for this assignment and to say that you felt his absence was an understatement.

You had lasted all of five minutes in your own bed before throwing off the covers and deciding to seek him out. Without the exhaustion of adventure weighing him down, he's likely still awake, perhaps poring over a newspaper from your latest excursion. You make sure to bring one back for him if he's not there; he says it's so he can get a better idea of what effect the Stellaron's had on the planet, but you see how quickly he turns to the comic strips. You'll catch him doodling the characters later, sometimes changing their features, doing two and three different sketches that he thinks you won't see.

You're only half right. You find him almost exactly as you'd imagined when you slip into his room, except his brows are furrowed. He's tapping a pencil against the paper.

“Need any help, Mr. Yang?”

He looks at you briefly before returning to his crossword puzzle. "Evening. And yes."

You smile and saunter towards him, crawling onto the bed eagerly. He opens his arms without prompting, allowing you to settle into his lap with your back to his chest. He has most of it filled out already, with only the bottom left grid glaringly empty. Mr. Yang is one of the smartest people, which is why you like to tease him when he has to ask you for help with these things, but he's also the most mature, which accounts for the good natured chuckle you typically get in response.

"What's the clue?"

"Eight letters. 'Hot term for a recent admirer.'"

You make a show of scrunching up your face and delicately take the pencil from him. Your handwriting isn't quite as neat as his, but finds a certain charm in it.

Welt hums appreciatively. "'New flame.' I think you could be right."

You beam. "Bested by the newcomer, Mr. Yang. You'll have to ask me to explain strange things out in the wild next time we leave the Express."

He chuckles. He thinks it's cute when you try to tease him like this; you're all bark and no bite, really. You fold as soon as he gets his hands on you.

Like right now, as his fingers ghost over your thigh. You lean into it as much as you can, but he's so good at holding back. It's the sweet sting of having someone like Welt for a lover: a wealth of experience to keep you satisfied for hours on end, but the patience and precision needed to keep you just on edge until he thinks you're ready.

"Did you need something?" He says it so casually, like he doesn't know your skin is burning underneath him.

You turn your head to look at him. It's there again, that little bit of sharpness in his gaze that seems to go right through you. He's already thinking about all the ways he can unmake you.

"Just you," you say, waiting the precious few moments it takes for the spark to ignite.

Welt kisses you, softly at first. His hands roam over your thighs, just ghosting underneath your sleep shorts. You whine the third time he does it, unable to handle the loss of his touch. He pulls away.

“Patience.”

You pout. He notices everything. “I’m not impatient.”

He humphs in disbelief. “Don’t make a sound until I tell you to.”

Any other night, you might protest his rigidity. Be the brat he likes you to be, until you’re a sobbing mess in hands, begging him to just fuck you and stop teasing. Tonight, however, you’re inclined towards obedience. You hush up and wait the agonizing few moments that he waits, watching for any sign of defiance. Satisfied, he kisses you again, hungrier this time, sliding his tongue over yours. You hold back a moan when he digs his fingers into your thighs.

Welt pushes you down. He trails his lips down your body, over your chest, your sensitive nipples. He halts just below your belly button, kissing the skin lightly while he pulls down your shorts. You shiver once your exposed to the cool air.

Anticipation burns inside you when he pulls your leg up and over his shoulder. He slowly teases your entrance with his tongue, giving it slow, featherlight licks that he soon follows up with a finger.

“Mr. Yang,” you say, unable to resist calling out as he speeds up.

He doesn’t respond, choosing to punish you instead by letting up. He knows it’s agony, feeling his warm breath on you where you need him most.

It’s too much. You give up on obedience and let desperation take hold as you grab at welt’s shoulders and pull him in to kiss you. Your taste lingers on his tongue. “Mr. Yang, please…“

Welt palms at your ass. It’s a nice reminder that he’s far more affected by you than he typically comes off. Although his words are often measured and his tone even, the way he touches you is nothing short of ravenous.

“Tell me what you need, sweetheart.”

You’re on the brink of tears now. Your legs are locked around his hips, his fingers are rubbing and pinching your nipple. He knows, but he likes to make you say it. “Mr. Yang, please, please,”

He doesn’t budge. You reach for the drawstring on his pants yourself, but he grabs your hand and brings it to his mouth instead. “You can speak, can’t you? Use your words.”

You watch as he pulls your finger into his mouth, sucking on it lightly. He’ll keep going, ignoring your pleas while he toys with you long past the rising of the sun. He’s done it before.

You draw a shaky breath.

“Mr. Yang, I need you inside me.”

You wait for his response. He almost looks bored, that half-awake look he gets when he’s quizzing you on the values of each Aeon with hands roaming across your chest.

He kisses your palm. “Keep going.”

“Welt,” his given name falls from your lips, a strained whisper that sets Welt on edge, “please fuck me, I can’t take it anymore, please.“

Welt lets go of your hand. He disentangles himself from you fully, ignoring your desperate whines. You hear his pants fall to the floor and then he’s hovering over you again, sliding a hand under your shoulder.

“Turn around.”

You hear him, but you’re too distracted by the sight of his weeping cock to really pay attention. He sighs and gently lifts you, maneuvering you so you’re on your hands and knees with your back to him.

Tears of relief fall down your face when Welt drapes himself over your back. You feel him lining himself up with your entrance. You shudder when he finally enters you. His grip on your waist tightens. He lets his cock stay sheathed in you for an agonizing moment before he pulls out and starts to set a rhythm. The slow friction stirs something in Welt; he lets go of your waist and covers your hand with his own. He curses above you and moves in closer, his breath warm against the shell of your ear.

“I want to hear you. Please,” Welt gasps. It makes your heart skip.

You call out to him, moaning his name in a quiet voice that gets louder and louder as his thrusts quicken. Your words become more frantic, endless declarations of how much you need him interrupted by broken sobs of pleasure. Welt speaks your name, too, in between ragged breaths and the rapid stuttering of his hips, curses falling from his lips in a constant prayer.

“Mr. Yang,” you say, because you know how his breathing stops when you call him that, just like the first time it did when he had you on your knees in his bedroom, “Mr. Yang, I love you.”

Welt’s final thread of composure snaps. He hooks his arm around your throat and buried his face in your neck. His hips slap against you harder than before, but he still has the presence of mind to reach down and tease you one last time to put you over the edge. Waves of ecstasy roll through as you give one final, strangled shout.

Welt follows soon after, his thrusts becoming increasingly erratic until he buries himself to the hilt and groans deep into your skin. You both slump forward, breathing heavily. He kisses your neck sloppily before finally pulling out with a sigh. He pulls you once to get you to clean up, but you don’t budge, a telltale look of bliss on your face. He gives up and leaves you, returning with clean cloths to wipe you down. You watch him from the corner of your eye as he flips you onto your back and takes care of you.

“Thanks, Welt.”

He smiles softly, but doesn’t look at you, focused on his task. He climbs back into the bed once he’s done, flat on his back. You lean over and rest your head on his chest.

Exhaustion weighs you down suddenly. Even though you left the mission early to see Welt, the trip back to the express hadn’t been easy. It feels like you’ll drift off into sleep as soon as you close your eyes. So you do, but not before reaching up to kiss Welt just under his chin.

[shattered-eagle]

Shattered Eagle RO Descriptions

Hi all, I got some questions on what the ROs look like and their personalities, so I thought I'd share what I had in mind while writing. All of the ROs are some shade of bisexual, if I hadn't noted that already.

Empress Julia Vitallia Hevernica: The Empress of Iudia is a forty-eight year old woman of average height, with a pale complexion and dark black hair on a slow but steady journey to silver. She has gray eyes which tend to bore icily into whoever she happens to be speaking with. Even as Empress, she has remained active from many years of military campaigning, with a fit and athletic physique. She tends to wear her hair short, barely reaching past her ears.

She is known to be cruel to her enemies, ruling through fear of her merciless wrath. Nevertheless, as a savvy politician, she takes care to project an image of harsh, yet fair, justice at her hand, if dealt with in good faith.

In her most personal relationships, Julia can often be more distant than she intends, as she seeks out understanding and care from her loved ones, despite her cold exterior. She is well known to be estranged from her husband.

Legate Antonius Lethungius/Amalrik Wulfhid: The general of the barbarian auxiliaries is a tall, clean shaven, forty year old man with a great blonde mane of hair. His once youthful good looks have, however, been marred by the scars of countless bloody wars. He has bright green eyes, flecked with a faint gold. A formidable foe in battle, he bears a strong and stout frame.

The Legate is half of 'civilized Iudia' and half of 'barbarous Gruthungia,' and everything from what clothes he wears to what accent he speaks with may change by the audience he finds himself in front of.

As a result, it is difficult to tell whether he is a a fierce, unbowed barbarian warrior, or a obedient, dutiful son of the Empire, an ambiguity is he seems content to maintain.

Ever careful about who he lets get too close, the Legate has been known to be somewhat aloof, trying to steer clear from personal relationships, supposedly out of his sense of obligation to his soldiers and their needs. His resultant lack of experience is then a source of embarrassment, though he does not let others know this readily.

Consul Consentia Plinia Dorcia: An older woman of fifty-fouryears old with a fair complexion, Consentia nevertheless has features that have aged as well as a fine vintage. Her dark brown hair, once near matching her brown eyes, has long since turned grey, however, reaching down a few inches past her shoulders.

Refusing the indulgences that many of the matrician class enjoy, Consentia is healthy and fit for her age, considering the long hours of work she tirelessly puts herself through for the business of the Senate.

Carrying elegance with her every step, she is well known to be polite and courteous to all in search of a new, more republican form of government, though she reserves ire for the 'barbarians' she views as emblematic of Iudia's decline. She is also a skilled orator, giving rousing speeches filled with carefully crafted rhetoric.

In her personal relationships, the Consul has been widowed for many years, having eschewed remarriage. Some whisper she has taken on a paramour or two in the past decades, though few socialites are brave enough to do more than speculate on the matter.

Tribune Ceto Vera: The Tribune is a thirty-eight year old woman with shoulder-length brown hair, an olive complexion and hazel eyes. Her features are calloused and weathered from her upbringing in the harsh streets of the slums of Kyro, an attribute most expressed in her scandalously low-class accent, a trait which she proudly bears even amongst the highest of matricians.

Though she stands rather short, Ceto carries a lean frame, her quick reflexes lending her a vicious talent with a dagger.

Despite her brusque demeanor and crude humor with the ladies of Kyro, however, she carries a talent for rousing the passions of the dispossessed and the discontented, using her criminal empire to generously reward those lending a voice to her populist cause, and ruthlessly make examples out of those who would refuse.

Ceto's personal life is shrouded from the knowledge of most, for all her shameless comments and advances she does not speak much on her past relationships. Nor of how she came to rise to power in the streets, both mysteries being either a source of regret or resentment for her.

Prince Darius of Pharia: Darius is a thirty-three year old man, standing at an average height, with black curly hair, a rich brown complexion, and a short and well groomed beard. In public, he bedecks himself in silks, radiant colors, and copious amounts of fine jewelry.

Trained as a warrior as any Prince should be, he is most skilled in the Pharian repeating crossbow, a curious invention that few Iudians have ever wielded.

Despite his status as a foreign hostage, the man has a charming, almost obsequious manner about him, inviting many dignitaries and notables of the capital for tea and idle talk at his embassy, which supposedly functions as his cage.

Darius often speaks of himself as an open book, and has carried on more than a few flings during his time in Iudia, though none have stuck around very long in the Prince's company.

[omgrachwrites]

Wicked Game - Chapter One

Pairing: Mattheo Riddle x Weasley!Reader

Summary: When you realise just how bad your parents financial situation is you make a deal with your fathers boss.

Warnings: muggle au, fluff, angst, swearing

A/N: Hope you guys enjoy this! The other chapters are going to be longer and this is going to be a relatively slow burn. Please let me know what you think and let me know if you would like to be tagged! I love you all! xxx

masterlist

Chapter One

You knew that your parents were struggling financially, you had always known, especially when you were at school. They had managed to send all eight of you to an exclusive boarding school so you never minded that your things were second-hand, you thought they added more charm. Now, that you were out of school, it seemed as though your parents were struggling even more, your dad’s boss, Mr Riddle had cut his hours right down.

Arthur and Molly were too proud to ask for help – despite having an array of friends who would drop everything to help – and they had denied your help more than once. You really didn’t want to see your family out on the street so you decided to take drastic measures.

“I’m heading to London today,” you told your mum as you sat down for breakfast on a warm summer’s morning.

Before she could reply, your twin brother spoke up, “Why, what’s in London? I thought you weren’t at the shop today.”

You rolled your eyes, “Ron, just because your nose is enormous doesn’t mean you should be poking it in other people’s business,” you flicked his nose causing him to bat your hand away and he scowled at you, the tips of his ears turning red.

After a quick breakfast, you were out the door and on the way to London, despite being pretty far out in the countryside you only needed one train to get there. The journey seemed to go by so quickly and soon enough you were walking into the lobby of the high rise building. It was so quiet and clean that it seemed clinical. The receptionist looked at you with wide eyes when you told her who you were there to see but you weren’t waiting long until she led you into Mr Riddle’s office.

As you walked in, trying to stop your hands from shaking, the older man looked up at you and took in your appearance, “you’re Arthur Weasley’s daughter,” it wasn’t a question as he gestured for you to sit down.

You nodded as you cleared your throat and sat down, “y-yes, Sir.”

“And what does Arthur Weasley’s daughter want with me?” he asked as he went back to signing the papers on his desk.

“My parents need help,” Mr Riddle glanced up at you with a raised eyebrow and you elaborated, “financial help.”

“Ah,” he had a ghost of a smirk on his face as he dropped his pen on top of his papers and leaned back in his leather wing backed chair, “if your parents hadn’t of had an army of children maybe they’d be in a much more comfortable position.”

It was amazing how quickly your fear turned to anger and you couldn’t stop the next words that fell from your lips, “well maybe if you gave my dad reasonable hours then I wouldn’t be here,” you folded your arms and narrowed your eyes.

Riddle blinked at you before letting out a harsh laugh that made the hairs on the back of your neck stand up, “my dear, all working hours have been cut since the war ended.”

“Still, there must be something I can do, please I’ll do anything,” you didn’t mean to beg but you were getting desperate now. Why wouldn’t he help you? A man in his position of power was exactly the sort of man who would help you, but he wouldn’t, not for nothing in return.

“You would do anything to save your family from ruin?” when you nodded he smirked and buzzed for the receptionist, “Bella find my son and send him in.”

Moments later, Mattheo Riddle came striding into the room like he owned it, he was even more handsome than he had been in school with the same sullen look on his face. His eyebrows shot up in surprise when he saw you standing in his father’s office but he nodded at you all the same.

“Y/N.”

“Hi, Mattheo.”

“You see, Y/N,” Riddle started “I have been trying to make a marriage for my son and at every turn he has rejected several extraordinary women,” Mattheo flushed and his eyes dropped to the floor at his father’s words, “you see, it’s very difficult for those fools to take me seriously at the Ministry without a marriage. You say you would do anything to save your family? Marry my son.”

Matteo’s eyes widened, “father,” he started but fell silent as Riddle gave him a hard look.

Riddle looked back at you, “accept and your family will want for nothing. Refuse, and I will make their life a living hell.”

This was the last thing you expected – or wanted – your heart was in your throat but you had started all of this and now you had to see it through. Briefly, you wondered why he would ask you, given Riddle’s opinion of your family. But you realised it was to keep you in line, you weren’t an idiot. You glanced at Mattheo who refused to look at you and you turned back to Riddle.

“When you put it that way, how can I refuse? Of course, you leave me no choice but to accept.”

Riddle smirked, “excellent, I’ll make the necessary arrangements. Mattheo, please show our guest out.

The younger Riddle glared at you as he gripped your elbow and steered you out of the room, “what the fuck, Y/N? Why would you do that?!” he hissed.

You managed to shake him off by the time you got to reception, “you heard your dad, I didn’t have a choice!” you conveniently ‘forgot’ to tell him that it was you who had sought Riddle out.

“You’re going to regret this,” there was a fire blazing in his usually cold brown eyes.

“Trust me, I already do,” you scowled.

As you got home, you had a guilty feeling in the pit of your stomach so you decided to shut yourself in your room. Your parents were going to be so disappointed. You were shut in your room all day, even when Hermione came to visit. You didn’t see anyone till later that evening when your dad barged in.

“We need to talk.”

“About?”

“Mattheo Riddle.”

Your heart sank like a rock as you looked at your dad’s disappointed face, “what do you want to know?”

“You’re not marrying him, Y/N.”

“I already accepted.”

“Well unaccept!”

“I can’t!” you sighed, “you guys needed help, I never meant for it to get this far but it’s done. If I refuse he will make our lives hell, you know he will. All I wanted was to help,” but you feared you had made things worse.

“We never wanted this for you, Y/N,” Arthur sighed as he awkwardly lingered in the doorway.

“Look dad, I know and I’m sorry. I’ll try and get out of it somehow.”

Arthur nodded with a sigh as he left the room, knowing the conversation was over and knowing that he wasn’t going to be able to change your mind.

A couple of minutes later, you decided that you needed some air, you all but crept by the living room where Riddle was having a hushed conversation with your parents. As you headed towards the back door, Harry called after you.

“Hey, Y/N.”

You groaned and turned to face him, knowing that he’d have something to say, he always did, “Harry, please. I really don’t need a lecture off you, of all people.”

“Whoa, whoa,” Harry laughed, throwing up his hands in mock defence, “I’m not going to lecture you. It was brave what you did, stupid,” he added “but brave.”

You laughed, “I agree with the stupid part, but thanks Harry,” you grinned.

“I can’t believe you’re gonna be a Riddle though,” he said with a look of distaste on his face.

“Yeah, yeah. It’s a real tragedy,” you laughed, “see you, Harry,” you shot him a wave as you headed outside into the warm summer air.

The air smelled sweet, like honeysuckle and lemon and you gazed around the wild garden, feeling sadness linger in the pit of your stomach. You spotted Mattheo sitting on the garden wall, smoking a cigarette. With a sigh, you walked over to him and sat next to him as he nodded at you.

“It’s nice out here,” he nodded at the strings of fairy lights that had been weaved through the flowering bushes, “you caused quite a stir it seems,” he mumbled as he blew out a plume of smoke, being careful to not let it get in your face.

“Well, it was getting boring around here, so I thought I’d spice it up,” you laugh as Mattheo’s lips almost quirked up into a smirk, “so,” you started, “what’s your reason for agreeing to marry me? What’s in it for you?”

He scoffed as he looked at you with brown eyes so unlike his dad’s cold blue ones, “my father says jump, I ask how high.”

“Oh,” you bit your lip, you couldn’t imagine having that sort of relationship with your family, “I’m sorry,” you hadn’t just ruined your life, you’d ruined his too.

Mattheo pulled a face, “don’t be silly, you don’t have to apologise for anything. Look, Y/N, despite what the papers say about me, I’m not a monster. I’ll treat you how you deserve to be treated but, Y/N, I’m never going to love you. If that’s what you’re looking for, you’re going to be disappointed.”

Personally, you thought love was overrated, people did stupid things when they were in love, “well, I’m never going to love you either.”

“Perfect,” he nodded, flicking the stub of his cigarette away.

“So, when do you take me away from my family?” you joke.

“Not until the wedding, my dad wanted you to move in straight away but I convinced him there was no need.”

“Thank you.”

The handsome boy looked at you in bewilderment, like he didn’t know why you would thank him, “don’t look for any redeeming qualities in me, Y/N. I have none.”

Before you could reply, Riddle was striding across the garden, “we’re leaving, Mattheo.”

“I guess I’ll see you soon,” the boy nodded at you before disappearing up the country lane.

With a sigh, you headed back inside the house to find everyone sitting around the table. As you walked in they all stared at you as you sat down. Sirius looked impressed while Lily looked like she felt sorry for you. You knew that someone was dying to say something.

“Just don’t,” you said, shaking your head as you reached for your glass of juice.

It was silent for a couple of moments before Ginny spoke up, “hey, at least he’s hot,” everyone let out a nervous laugh and fell into an uneasy conversation as they waited for dinner.

[tgmsunmontue]

Caring, Keeping and Collecting Transformers - A Guide 13/?

Maverick is unknowingly surrounded by Transformers. He knows something is up though. Just not quite what it is exactly.

Bradley and Jake, having never met, are embarking on their own journeys and will have to learn to deal with the fact that they've both been adopted by Transformers.

Despite having years more experience, Maverick is no help at all.

ONE TWO THREE FOUR FIVE SIX SEVEN EIGHT NINE TEN ELEVEN TWELVE

THIRTEEN

              Early the next morning Tom wonders if he should buy stock in painkillers, or whether that would be a conflict of interest considering how often he finds he needs to take them. And he suspects the frequency is only going to increase. He didn’t find the presence of Optimus Prime as reassuring as he thought, hoped, it would be. Instead his presence seems to put most of the other Transformers on edge, so he thanks him, and then, as politely as he can, dismisses him.

              He is very used to managing both big personalities and dealing with conflict resolution. He’s got a reputation for his no-nonsense approach and ability to cut through bullshit and apply hard facts and logic. He supposes his years of being with Maverick have probably assisted with that, but this is going to try the limits of his patience. He knows it is. Under the careful eye of Starscream Jetfire’s parts have been transferred to a truck that will transport them to Fallon.

              When Tom asks, Starscream seems torn between travelling with Jetfire or ensuring Lieutenant Seresin remains safe and whole. Then he drops ever so casually into the conversation that he could have simply picked up the horse truck and flown it to Fallon. And then flown it to Texas. Had Tom known this fact sooner he’d have arranged things differently. Asked him to do just that, not made him have to choose and he says as much, which seems to surprise Starscream and Tom wonders if anyone has ever admitted that they might not know everything in front of him, or taken into consideration how he may feel about something.

              Inwardly he knows he’s unwittingly made things more complicated by simply not asking or talking with the Transformers, but he won’t make that mistake again. He very rarely does. He’s left a message asking for Bradley to bring Seresin out here, back to the hangar, once they’re both awake. He’s been here since before sunrise, supervising the movement of parts under the cover of darkness, Starscream and the other Transformers carefully hiding away. He maybe managed three hours sleep, up late on the phone with various other people around the country, some of them expressing envy at the fact he’s getting to work so closely with them.

              Quite frankly he doesn’t need the excitement, he was happy enough with his life, his mostly long-distance relationship with Mav due to him still being in active service. Going to bed last night, and waking this morning, having Mav in bed both times, is still enough of a novelty that he begrudges the Navy pulling him away. Mav may be the one thing Tom loves more than his job, and he’s grateful Mav loves and understand his dedication to said job even as he also grumbles about it in the early hours of the morning when Tom slips from the bed.

              He sees the dust trail then, an approaching vehicle. He had driven his own car, not used to coming out to the hangar without Maverick beside him. He’s pleasantly surprised to see the flash of blue which indicate it’s Bronco approaching, hopefully with both Bradley and Seresin inside. Sure enough Seresin and Bradley tumble out of Bronco dressed in civvies and in a flurry of takeout wrappers, both holding cups; they’ve clearly stopped somewhere for breakfast en route. They look so young and carefree. It reminds him a little of him and Maverick when they were younger, maybe him and Slider when they would just shoot the shit, no worries in the world. He’s feeling very nostalgic this morning.

              Must be the sleep deprivation.

              “Morning Ice.”

              “Admiral.”

              “You can call me Tom. Or Iceman,” Tom says, although he won’t be surprised if Seresin sticks with Admiral just so he doesn’t slip up. He’s glad that Bradley has been able to slip easily back into the familiarity. He’s glad that it seems like they’ve both got their heads screwed on right and are taking everything in stride. The adaptability of youth he supposes, and he’s glad Bradley has someone his age that is experiencing all this with him, because he suspects the relationship between Pete and Bradley will take a little while to heal. Probably not as long as it might have, considering they’re both bonding over the excitement and novelty of having Transformers in their lives.

              “Here, got you some food… and a coffee. Mav is packing a bag and says he’ll go with Ninja to Fallon.”

              Tom takes it with grateful hands, takes a sip of the coffee and so infinitely glad Bradley remembered he likes his coffee strong and black.

              “He’s not riding a motorbike all the way to Fallow,” Tom mutters, although he’s long resigned himself to not being able to really control what Mav does and more deal with the fallout and mitigate for future events.

              “He’s not. He’s riding a Transformer. One that has already saved his life,” Starscream interjects. “He must be good to be so worthy of such a high level of… loyalty.”

              Tom doesn’t know what to say to that, suspects Starscream may be implying he would have let Maverick die. Bronco has transformed and is standing behind Bradley with his arms crossed, but he doesn’t look as angry as yesterday, so Tom is definitely going to count that as a win. One less thing to worry about, because he suspects Bronco and Starscream will be just as loyal, if they aren’t already. He’s not sure how to feel about the fact that he doesn’t have his own personal Transformer. Doesn’t know whether he’d cope as calmly as all the others have, and he’s known about their existence for years as well as seeing videos.

              “What… what are you doing to me?” Starscream asks, looking down at Seresin, who looks like a toddler trying to hug a car, arms out-stretched but unable to actually hug and he hides a smile.

…          …          …

              Jake feels good. He’s slept well, Bradley had woken him with an impolite tug of the blankets which had shocked him into wakeful alertness, but then he’d handed Jake a cup of coffee so he’ll count it as a win overall. He’s excited to get to Fallon, aware that first though he needs to return the truck. On the drive here he and Bradley hashed over several different plans and think they’ve settled on the most logical, and he hopes they get to do them rather than having orders which tell them otherwise. He sees Starscream and gives into the urge to give him a hug, not that it’s very effective given how much bigger he is than Jake.

              “What… what are you doing to me?” Starscream asks, and Jake pulls back and grins up at him.

              “It’s called a hug.”

              “What is its purpose? To crush me? You are not strong enough to crush me. Why are you trying?”

              “Yeah, I’m aware. It’s a sign of… affection. I missed you. I’m glad to see you.”

              “Oh. Then…”

              “Ow fuck…” Jake says, because Starscream is hugging him back and he doesn’t think any of his ribs crack but it’s definitely a shade too tight.

              “We thought we’d leave for Texas. Take the truck back. Then Jake can collect all his things and we can drive to Fallon…”

              “You can’t drive all that way non-stop…”

              “We won’t be driving though. Bronco doesn’t need to sleep.”

              “Oh. Of course he doesn’t. How is he getting to Texas?”

              “He can stretch out in the back of the horse truck. We’ll stop somewhere and then I’ll drive with him following the truck so Jake’s family don’t realize anything is different…”

              Jake listens as Bradley talks to Admiral Kazansky, and he’s glad it’s not him that has to do the convincing. Not the Admiral Kazansky seems to need any convincing, is just nodding and looking serious.

              “I mean, we’ll still have to take breaks for the bathroom and to get food, but driving through the night is totally possible,” Bradley is saying, and he must be talking about the drive back, all stuff Jake already knows about and he switches to look at Bronco who is staring at him and Starscream, like he’s trying to figure out a puzzle.

              “When did you want to leave?”

              “I already said goodbye to Mav…”

              “Oh. Okay then. Right now it is. I’ll try and visit in Fallon as soon as I can.”

              “Yeah, that’d be great. If only to stop everyone from wanting to kill Mav.”

              “Hmm,” Admiral Kazansky says with a wry twist of his lips and Jake wonders what all that is about.

              “Jake…”

              He startles and turns, looks at Starscream because he thinks this might be the first time he’s used his name.

              “Yeah?”

              “I am going to go to Jetfire… scope out this… Fallon we will be rendezvousing at. Ensure it is safe.”

              “It’ll be fine, but I appreciate the thought buddy…”

              “You! Bronco!” Starscream says, pointing at Bradley’s Transformer. “You keep an eye on him…”

              “Hey! I don’t need a keeper!” Jake interjects and Starscream gives him a look that clearly says he disagrees with Jake’s words.

              “He won’t be able to keep you as safe as I would, but they will do in a pinch…”

              “Fuck you! Fuck you very very much…” Bronco plays in lieu of replying with something else and Jake snorts, because he’s pretty sure Bronco also just flipped Starscream the bird, but Jake’s pretty sure Starscream wouldn’t even know what that meant. The idea of explaining makes him laugh and he quickly covers it with a cough, waves away Bradley’s concern.

              “Humans are… odd,” Starscream muses, and he’s frowning at Jake and he grins back unflinchingly. He actually feels like he’s getting somewhere in terms of a friendship. It’s pretty cool.

              “Yes,” Bronco states plainly.

              “Just yes? No… advice you want to give me?” Starscream asks and Jake hides another smile, catches Bradley’s eye and he’s also trying not to grin.

              “No. You’ll figure it out. Or not.”

              Starscream makes a grating sound that Jake supposes is a combined huff of annoyance and shrug of the shoulders.

              “Right… road trip?” Jake asks, trying to change the subject and deflect and Admiral Kazansky looks appreciative and Jake grins.

[adrift-in-thyme]

@skyward-floored I know you’ve been sick all week so I wrote you a little something to help cheer you up. It’s short and probably not wonderfully edited but I hope you get some joy from it anyway :)

——————————

“Up and at ‘em Captain!” Legend calls as he stomps down the hall. “The day’s wasting away!”

The sun is already high in the sky. The other heroes are already dressed and packed and well into eating their breakfast. Yet, the captain is still snoozing away, snug as a bug beneath his blankets.

Must be nice being able to sleep through all that ruckus, Legend thinks, grumpily.

Though, now that he ponders it, it is rather unlike Warriors to slumber on like this. Usually, he is one of the first to awaken. By the time anyone else rises, he is already washed and dressed and looking entirely too well-kept for someone who catapulted out of bed before even the sun dared peek over the horizon.

A small shred of worry worms its way past Legend’s careful defenses. But he pushes it aside as he steps into the doorway.

“Hey, pretty boy! Did you hear me?”

By all appearances, the bed is occupied solely by blankets. And save for a few sniffles, their occupant remains steadfastly silent. Frowning, Legend steps closer.

“Warriors? You alive in there?”

“Mmph,” groan the blankets.

Legend grasps the nearest edge and flings them off. A very miserable-looking Warriors blinks up at him.

“Vet?”

Legend winces. His voice is painfully hoarse. Speaking must be agonizing.

His eyes are glossy too, he sees now, and his cheeks unnaturally flushed. A layer of sweat coats his forehead and drags down his curls. When he pushes himself upward, the movement is accompanied by a violent shudder that nearly lands him back on the bed.

The captain presses his fingertips to the bridge of his nose.

“Sorry, is it time to get up? I-I didn’t realize…”

He trails off, blinking into the rays of sunlight that waft through the blinds. Panic streaks across his face.

“I overslept.”

“Yeah, you did.”

Legend puts a hand to his chest, pushing him back as he tries to get out of bed. He shivers beneath his touch, breath hitching.

“And it’s no wonder that you did. You look like crap, Wars. How long have you been sick?”

Warriors swallows, cringing as he does it.

“Don’t know.” He shrugs, weakly. “I haven’t felt well all week but I thought…I thought I was fine.”

His eyes widen.

“I’m gonna get everyone sick!”

“Well, yeah, probably. But we’ll be fine.”

Legend presses the palm of his hand to Warriors’ head, ignoring his weak attempts to shove him off.

“You’re burning up, captain. Lie back down.”

“But we-we need to get going…” Warriors looks up at him, eyes wide and pleading. “We were so close to the…we were so close…”

Legend sighs. “The monsters can wait. You need to rest.”

“Is everything alright in here?”

Time peeks around the door, now, a concerned expression on his face. When he catches sight of Warriors it deepens. In two strides, he is within the room.

“Captain, are you well?”

“He’s definitely not,” Legend says before Warriors can try and make excuses. “He’s sick as a dog.”

Time places a hand on Warriors’ forehead, then retracts it, a frown darkening his features.

“We will stay in the inn today. You must rest.”

“But Sprite…” Warriors begins. Time shakes his head.

“I’ll hear no arguments from the very man who forcibly snuggled me until I slept as a child.”

Legend snorts. “He did what?”

Time only smiles, his attention still on Warriors.

“Pushing on will only make you worse, captain. You would be the first to pause the journey if one of us were in your place. Let us take care of you.”

“Fine.” Warriors slouches, defeated. “Why’re you two so stubborn?”

Legend grins.

“You think we’re bad? Just wait until you see the others.” He winks. “Lemme go get ‘em.”

As he turns on his heel, Legend sees Warriors sink further into the bed. His grin grows wider.

Get comforted, captain.

Less than half of an hour later, the bedroom is swarmed by eight heroes, all armed with illness-fighting supplies. Sky and Wild, come bearing warm soup.

(“It’s the best for a sore throat,” Sky says with a smile and Wild nods, “yup, I cooked a big batch too, so you’ll have plenty of it.”)

Hyrule offers healing potions. Wind and Four bring armfuls of blankets.

(“Did you two raid every house in Castle Town?” Time asks in disbelief as he takes the small heroes’ bundles. Wind grins.)

(“Basically.”)

Twilight brings fresh water from the spring just outside of town, said to have healing properties…and also a stray cat to keep the captain company.

(“You sure that’s for his benefit?” Legend asks, narrowing his eyes as the rancher sets the animal on Warriors’ lap. Twilight just grins.)

Soon, Warriors is lying down once more, wrapped snugly in what Wind dubs a “blanket burrito,” with a belly full of soup and a cat on his legs.

Time brushes his bangs out of his eyes and places a cool cloth on his forehead. Warriors sighs at the touch.

“Are you feeling a little better now?” Wind asks, eyes wide with concern. Oblivious to the captain’s warnings about germs, he has managed to fit himself in between the eternal blankets and the cat, cuddled against Warriors’ side.

Not that the knight seems to mind overly much, now that all is said and done. And as he settles on the end of the bed, Legend can’t help thinking he looks glad to have the company.

Warriors nods, eyes drooping.

“Yeah, I’m better, sailor.” He sends the heroes a tired grin. “Thanks to all of you.” His gaze flicks to Legend. “Especially, you vet.”

Legend’s cheeks heat and he looks down, waving a dismissive hand.

“Ah, no big deal. I’m not so mean as to let you die in here all alone and snotty and miserable.”

Warriors chuckles and closes his eyes. “So, you decided to suffocate me with blankets instead?”

Legend shrugs, a grin playing on his lips. “What can I say? I’m merciful.”

The blankets in question look rather comfortable and he decides to lay down upon them. He’s not the only one either. All of the heroes have drifted over now, cuddling up on a bed not made for nine men and boys. But they make do. And Warriors seems to melt in their embrace.

Legend smiles at the peaceful look on the captain’s face as he drifts off. He guesses even someone like the pretty boy needs a break once in a while. And — he chuckles as Wind and the cat compete for space — some snuggles too.

[obislittleone]

The Winner Takes It All

Episode 1

Pairing: Finnick Odair x Tribute(OC)!Reader

Chapter Warnings: The Hunger Games reaping. Canon typical angst. Reader has a speech impediment.

Chapter Summary: Lukas Artanhour is your best friend since childhood who makes the worst decision of his life when he volunteers as tribute for the 71st annual hunger games... Luckily, he won't be going alone, and you didn't even have to volunteer.

Word Count: 2.8k

Don't be detered by the OC in this chapter, he is just someone I made up to make the hunger games more emotional of an event 🙃

The representative from the Capitol being the same every year was almost a comforting sort of repetition through the years, but compared to the annual tradition it surrounded, you were hardly relaxed at seeing him make his dazzling appearance. A new outfit every year, made from the finest fabrics and silks that eight had to offer… And you wore the same green top and skirt. At least this year there were seashells. 

“Good afternoon, District Four!” His shout of happiness was hardly felt by any who stood here in this gathering. “There’s nothing like being here, amongst the beautiful waters and sandy beaches.”

It’s cold and windy down by the docks, with the sand getting kicked up from time to time. District Four is one of the most beautiful places in all of Panem, and it’s known, as all districts are, for its main production to the Capitol. Fish. 

The people here are wealthier than most in the districts, a close third in rank to both one and two, who reign supremely amongst the favorites. The Hunger Games have obviously played a serious part in all of that. Four being a career district meant that the Capitol goers were far more likely to invest. Careers are the favorites, no matter which district they come from. 

The reaping is today, and you don’t want to think about it. It is why you arrive at your work station an hour before you need to be there. You’ve spent years of your life down here by the docks, whether it was waiting for your father’s boat to return, or your friend to bring you the boxes that needed to be loaded onto Capitol trucks. You’re a mover, it’s your job. It doesn’t pay well, because the real money is in fishing, but you wouldn’t dare go out on a boat. 

“You’re early,” Lukas nearly spooks you, smiling after watching you jump from surprise. “Didn’t mean to scare you.”

“It’s r-reaping day. I couldn’t s-sleep.”

He was used to the skip and stutter of your words, un-phasing him as you spoke each one. 

“I get it. My mom keeps hounding me about it. Every year I grow taller, stronger, she tells me I could win,” he sat down next to you in the sand, handing you a shell he found on his way here. “Another for the collection.”

“Thanks,” you took it gratefully, placing it in your pocket for safekeeping until later. You journeyed back to his previous words, what he meant by them. “Does your mother w-wish you’d gone through the career program?”

He shrugged, looking out into the sea, his mind just as full of indecent thoughts as yours. 

“I’m not sure what she wants. Ever since dad died she’s just been… different.”

“My parents have s-said, if it ever gets t-too bad, you c-can always stay with us.”

He nods, his appreciation shown through a single sideways glance. He knows he has places to go, he knows that there are others that are willing to treat him as a son should be treated, but he wants his own mother to do it. He longs for the woman she once was, and hopes if he can make her proud enough, maybe she will be that way again. 

“I’ll think about it,” he said, but he’d been saying that for the past year. 

So far, you’d learned she’d been hitting him, been yelling and screaming about how he would never measure up to his father. You never saw these interactions of course, because if you had you may have broken down for him, your friend of eleven years. In school, he was the only one who would talk to you, the only person who ever gave a damn about the girl with the stutter. He defended you when they made fun of you left and right, for nearly everything they thought was wrong with you.

“You s-shouldn’t listen to her,” you shook your head, the waves crashing on the shoreline several yards down. It was the only thing that would remain peaceful about today, when later on two children would be hauled off and expected to fight or die. “She isn’t in her r-right mind anymore.”

“I know that.” 

He agrees, he knows. He is well aware that her mind slipped maybe even before her husband died. She had been driving him to the long hours that he’d worked, and eventually made him work out on a ship during a storm. The boat sinking was just fan to the flame of her deteriorating mental state. 

He picked up a rock from the sand a few feet over, standing up and tossing it to skip over the water before it began to wash on the shore. He gave you a hand to your feet, pulling you up until you were steady. 

“Boat leaves in a few minutes, I’ll see you when we get back,” he said, turning on his heel in the sand. You nodded at him before he walked off, into the working hours of the day. You shouldn’t even be here for another hour. You know that they’ll be gone for two or more and you don’t need that long to prep the boxes. But you can’t sleep. 

-

Lukas returned to the docks with a much better mindset. The water always made him feel serene. He came to land, lugging the giant nets tied together to keep the fish from falling out. Today’s catch was good as any other, and the songs the boys sang on board nearly made him forget everything else. 

“Salmon are catching like crazy this time of year,” he muttered, meeting you halfway to help you untie the knots and start packing the boxes. “Thinking I might sneak one home if there’s extra. You probably can, too.”

“I’ll t-try. My pa could use s-something more to eat.”

He weeded through all the skimpy ones, pulling the biggest catches out first and laying them sideways in the boxes, filling the middles with ice before adding another layer. It was the same thing everyday, but he never tired of it. He was content to live the life of a district four fisherman, and he was good at it. 

“How’s his arm doing?” He asked, since you’d brought up your father. 

He’d broken it in a rigging accident about two months ago, and the slow healing process was not doing your family any favors. You’d been hungry several times, so obviously extreme measures had to be taken. You won’t think about that right now, though.

“Not any better, n-not any worse.” The fish box was nearly packed, but you paused to think for a moment. “Maybe I s-should try and catch. It pays a lot m-more, and we could use the money.”

He grabbed you by the shoulder and turned you to face him. 

“You’d be scared to death. If your family needs some money, I can help out. It’s the least I can do when they offer me free lodging,” he half joked, completely serious in all aspects about the help with financial assistance. 

“Lodging that y-you’ve never taken.”

“Listen, I’m happy to help if you need me to. Especially with your brother, now,” he mentioned, making you think about the sweet little sleeping face you’d passed by on the way out of your home. Your baby brother, born not a year ago. You hated the idea of him growing up hungry, or having to start work early in his life like you did. 

“Well, t-thank you. I’ll think about it.”

He shook his head, seeing as how you quoted him from all the times your family offered him help before. 

He waved you off when you finished stacking the prepared boxes onto your slab dolly, tilting it back and beginning to push it towards the truck that pulled in not too long ago. It was a steep climb, up the ramp from the docks and onto the street, but it made you quite strong over the years. That and all the heavy lifting, becoming easier with every twenty by thirty of fish. 

Lukas would be taking off early today, as would most of the other boys of age. You would be heading home after loading this shipment as it were. You had to shower, had to clean up your hair and skin and make yourself presentable for the reaping. 

You opened the back of the truck, tossing the boxes up one at a time, before climbing into it and stacking them neatly in one of the four corners. You always managed to obtain a single splinter from every shipment loaded, but luckily today’s wasn't too bad, you could probably dig it out with a small pin. 

Later in the day, your mother gave you a solemn smile as you walked out the door, having just been readied and dressed in your best clothes. Even in a wealthier district, they still had mended holes in the bottom of your skirt. That’s the sad thing about every district. Even amongst the wealthier ones, there’s still poverty that simply cannot be helped. The Capitol's greed and thirst for luxury, needing every little thing that life has to offer at their beck and call. You can’t even imagine what it’s like in places like eight or twelve. Places where food is not the primary cultivation of the people. 

It was light green, your outfit. It had white seashells on the waist of the top, and a few along the edge of the skirt as well. They hadn’t always been there, but you insisted they should be. You didn’t really have much else of a use for all the shells you stole from the sands of the shoreline. You hated wearing the same outfit to this single event every year. You hardly wore it any other time, which made a distaste for it grow every time it came out of your closet. 

The way your mother did your hair was simple. A single french braid down the back of your head, tied off with a light green ribbon to match everything else. She watched how it fell a bit looser with every step you took, making your way across the streets and into the city’s center. It’s your last year, and having avoided every year before, you know you should feel a semblance of relief, but you don’t. 

Your mother waits for the peacekeeper behind a stand to check your name off a list before she parts with you, hugging you tightly one last time and allowing you to kiss the head of the baby on her hip. He’s primarily the reason you remain so nervous. Even if your name doesn’t get called, his could be, someday.

You line up in an open space, next to the last girl that checked in. She wasn’t in your row last year, you would have remembered her. She was pretty, with blue eyes and dark raven hair. Her skin was tanned like most in four, but had a certain glow about it. She’s too pretty to be reaped, you thought. It didn’t make a difference, though. As you stared head on to the bowl on the stage, centered in front of the girl’s side, you got tense. Your name is in there six times this year. That’s three more than last year, and five more than the year before. 

Someone could still volunteer. But the career program had not made mention of producing a female tribute this year. It all depended on the luck of today’s draw. For all you knew, your name would be surpassed by someone else. There were other poverty stricken areas in four besides yours, and it made sense that somebody else could have been hungry enough to outgo you. 

You looked around to the boy's side. Lukas was there, and further up in the rows. He must have gotten here quickly after leaving the docks. His face was sullen, and something had changed, but you were unsure of what it was. When he looked around, you almost thought he’d been looking for somebody, but his expression told a far different story. 

The last few children in the line were filing in, and the musical fanfare blasted through the speakers by the stage. You were grateful not to be so close to those this year. 

The representative from the Capitol being the same every year was almost a comforting sort of repetition through the years, but compared to the annual tradition it surrounded, you were hardly relaxed at seeing him make his dazzling appearance. A new outfit every year, made from the finest fabrics and silks that eight had to offer… And you wore the same green top and skirt. At least this year there were seashells. 

“Good afternoon, District Four!” His shout of happiness was hardly felt by any who stood here in this gathering. “There’s nothing like being here, amongst the beautiful waters and sandy beaches.”

His rabble was boring, and nearly the same as it was last time. The anticipation was killing just about every girl and boy in this crowd, knowing there were no careers at the ready this year. It was always easier to rest at night while knowing if your name was called, another courageous youngster would step in to take your place. 

“I’m so excited to be back and reaping this year’s tributes for the 71st annual Hunger Games!” 

There was a surge of excitement coming from the sidelines, and it was only now that you looked past the blockades to see that there were actual Capitol civilians standing there this year. How nice, some onlookers for when an innocent child gets sent away to their death. Absolutely wonderful. You looked on past them, towards the victors standing close by. They seemed anxious as well, the old woman holding one fist to her mouth while the other clutched her chest. She rocked back and forth on her heels, and had to take a step every few seconds to keep from becoming too restless. The young man was stiff, his arms behind his back and every muscle in his body tense as a board. His eyeline never left the bowls on the stage. They went through this once, too.

When you refocused on the man at the microphone, your heart beat rapidly. He was approaching the boy’s side of the stage. 

After a small flourish of his hand, the Capitol rep stuck his hand into the glass, two papers in his hand before he dropped one. The dropped paper’s namesake got immensely lucky this year. 

“Harley Miggsen,” he read the paper, but before the peacekeepers had a shot at cornering the poor fourteen year old kid, with his eyes wide in horror, another voice spoke up. 

“I volunteer.” 

Your head snapped to Lukas, his hand raised high in the air. Murmurs started almost immediately about how everyone thought there weren’t any careers prepared. They spoke softly and wondered if there would be a career for the girls, too. Lukas isn’t a career, why would he do this?

“I… guess we have a volunteer,” the man at the mic clapped his hand, watching the young man getting ushered up the stairs to stand beside him on the stage. “What’s your name, son?” 

“Lukas Artanhour, sir.”

“Lukas Artanhour, everyone!” He raised his hand as to signal applause from the capitol guests, and they cheered, happy to see that there was now a potential victor as opposed to that poor boy from before. “Now for the ladies.”

You spared a glance at the victors once more, and they looked even more on edge for this pick than the last. Female victors were obviously more rare in every district, so getting a decent tribute that wouldn’t die right away was probably preferable. You couldn’t imagine all the people they’ve tried and failed to save over the years. The young man won only six years ago, but with no other victors since, that means he’s gone through twelve tributes. All dead, all gone. 

Your mind had been momentarily distracted, or at least it had been until the next name came over the loudspeakers. 

“Mercedes Blythe.” 

It almost didn’t register. 

It almost went in one ear and out the other.

It almost was paid no mind or attention…

But that is your name, and you’ve heard it said a million times since you were a baby. Not once did it ever sound like that, though. 

You stood still until you realized there were peacekeepers on their way to grab you. 

It was slow, the way you took steady steps from your row towards the stage. You couldn’t be rushed even if they tried to make you. You could only look at the ground. You didn’t want to chance looking up and seeing your mother past the blockades. God only knows what she’s thinking and feeling right now. After everything bad happens to a family, the mother of that family should not have to wonder whether her child will live or be killed in an arena. 

You finally looked up when you got to the stairs, meeting Lukas’ eyes first, and seeing they were sad and full of pity. You stood beside the Capitol rep on the other side, allowing him to raise your hands together while the tears finally welled up in your eyes. The delay in your mind was the only one to blame for that. 

“Ladies and gentlemen, district four’s tributes!”

-

Tags (open):

[mapis-putellas]

Cold as ice

Pairings: Natasha x you

Words: 1964

Warnings: none that I know of

Summary: Natasha falls sick during a stakeout mission

You absentmindedly trail the tip of your finger over the small indent on the countertop as you watch your girlfriend stifle yet another sneeze into the bend of her arm. It was evening time on a rainy Saturday, and both of you were due to leave for your joint mission in just a few short hours.

It was a simple stakeout mission to gather intel. It was something either one of you were more than capable of doing alone but fury was adamant you went together due to the amount of government officials involved.

One of you would act as a look out of sorts whilst the other would grab the disk drive containing the information, and then you'd have promptly a minute to get back to the  quinjet before someone would realise it was gone.

All was going to plan until Natasha had woken up with a stuffy nose and a scratchy throat. She was adamant she was fine, but you knew better than to believe her. You'd decided to humour her anyway, but you knew you only had so long before she would inevitably succumb to her illness meaning the sooner you left, the better.

"I'll go pack the quinjet. Meet you there in twenty?" You ask, and Natasha flickers her eyes up to you before nodding her head. Her cheeks were flushed, but when you lean forward to press a kiss to her forehead, she didn't seem to have a fever easing your nerves ever so lightly.

"Okay." She murmurs as the corners of her lips quirk up into a small smile, and you return it, giving her shoulder a soothing squeeze before heading towards your shared bedroom.

*

Just as the clock strikes eight, Natasha makes her way onto the quinjet adorned in a simple jeans and T-shirt. In her grasp was a bag containing what you assumed was her black widow suit, her guns and everything else that would be needed throughout the one day mission, and you watch as she sets it down before coming to join you in front of the controls.

"Hi baby. Ready to go?" You ask, watching as she makes quick work of buckling herself in. Natasha clears her throat softly as she flickers her eyes over to you, and you see her nod softly prompting you to get the quinjet up into the air. You remain in the cockpit as FRIDAY takes over the controls, watching from the corner of your eye as Natasha grabs her bag before disappearing into one of the small rooms at the back of the jet.

She was back before you could really miss her, now dressed in her widow suit. As she gets closer, you notice that her cheeks were seemingly more flushed than they had been just moments prior. You hold open your arms as she gets closer on the off chance she would drop her guard for a little while and let you hold her, and though she seemingly hesitates, she does step into your arms and allow you to tug her onto your thighs. She sits sideways, arm thrown over your shoulder.

"You feeling okay?" You ask, securing an arm around her waist as you press the backs of your fingers against the skin of her cheek, and Natasha nods her head.

"I'm okay." she murmurs as she lays her head against your own, and you simply nod in response, knowing it wouldn't be wise to push. You'd made that mistake before, back at the beginning of your relationship and you weren't about to do it again. Being on Natasha's bad side was scary.

"Alright," you secure your hands together against her hip, squeezing gently with a small sigh as you begin rocking you both back and forth, "just, tell me if that changes okay? I know it won't change things with the mission, but I'd like to know if you're not feeling good."

Natasha simply nods as she tightens her arms around you, and you give her yet another gentle squeeze as you focus your attention out of the quinjet window. The journey to your location takes promptly two hours, Natasha spending most of that time perched comfortably on your lap. She barely utters a word, but does stifle many sneezes and sniffles against you in between rough bouts of sleep.

By time you take over the controls and land the quinjet a few miles away from your location, it was safe to say that your girlfriend was most definitely sick. But other than a few concerned glances, you do nothing. Natasha was in black widow mode now, guns in holsters and all and you knew she was more than likely to deny whatever accusations you throw her way.

You simply press a kiss to her forehead as you pass, simultaneously checking her temperature and wanting to throw a little comfort her way, and you see that hard, determined look in her eyes soften ever so slightly as they flicker up to make contact with your own.

It was that, along with knowing that fever wasn't too high that comforts you enough to not bring this up again until the mission was done.

"Ready?" You ask as you zip up your coat. It was an hour walk to your stakeout location, and you weren't stupid enough to trek that in your thin suit alone. Natasha on the other hand obviously didn't have the same concerns. She was merely clad in her white suit alone, waiting by the drop door of the quinjet.

"Ready." She nods with a small smile, her flushed cheeks only adding to the cuteness.

"You're not going to put on a coat?" You ask as you pass her, double checking to make sure you had all your guns before the door closes.

Natasha smirks. "I don't need a coat, I'm R-"

You cut her off. "Russian, yes, I know." You playfully roll your eyes, and Natasha chuckles slightly as she begins trekking through the snow. You already know that her decision not to wear a coat in this weather would bite her in the ass, but you also know that it would be pointless telling her that because she was one of the most stubborn, hardheaded people you knew.

You let out a deep sigh as you begin following her footsteps. You were going to be in for a long day.

*

It was only two hours into the stakeout do her symptoms finally come to a head. She was so congested she could barely breath out of her nose, forced to wipe away the snot that was continuously dripping on the sleeve of her suit. She was stifling sneezes constantly into the bend of her elbow despite you telling her they couldn't be good for her sinuses, and it appeared as though her fever had risen too.

Her cheeks were heavily flushed, skin damp with sweat despite the temperature, and when you watch her stifle yet another sneeze, you shrug off your coat and throw it over her shoulders.

She turns to face you with a frown, "Babe, no. I don't need-"

"You either take this or we head back to the compound," you tell her in a no nonsense tone as you guide her arms into the sleeves, reaching for the zipper and zipping it up to her chin.

You soften slightly when she looks up at you with a somewhat hurt look in her eyes. "You're sick baby," you murmur, reaching up to cup her cheeks and trailing the pads of your thumbs over the slightly damp skin. "and being without a coat is only going to make it worse. You can take it off if and when we make it inside. But for now, please, for me, keep it on." You plead, and Natasha bites her bottom lip softly before nodding her head.

"Thank you." You murmur, leaning forward and pressing a kiss to her slightly red nose. It twitches slightly in response, and you manage to pull away just in time for her to sneeze down onto her lap.

It was unstifled for the first time today, and you knew just how much relief she must have felt if the soft groan that slips from her lips was anything to go by.

"I bet that felt good huh?" You grin, and Natasha rolls her eyes as she wipes her nose with the sleeve of your coat before bringing her attention back to the large building in front of you. You grimace a little at the action before doing the same, making a silent reminder to wash the coat before you wore it again.

You loved Natasha, but you most certainly did not want to wear her snot.

The rest of the mission goes smoothly from this point forward. You manage to convince Natasha to keep watch as you head into the building to grab the disk drive, knowing it would be the safer option due to the fact you were less likely to give yourself away.

Natasha was a little put out at the insinuation, but otherwise let's you go without complaint. You knew due to her past she could control normal bodily functions such as sneezing and coughing more than any other person. You just didn't want her to have to do that, especially not when she was so sick.

You were in and out in just over ten minutes, the alarms beginning to blare just as you make it back to Natasha.

"Got it?" She asks, and you nod as you hold up the disk drive. With a proud smile, she gestures you to begin running back towards the quinjet and you comply without hesitation. She was hot on your tail for the entirety of the journey, footsteps remaining steady and consistent.

Her breathing however quickly becomes wheezy, and by the time you make it back to the quinjet, she appears to be struggling to any oxygen into her lungs at all. Heart hammering a little in fear, you make quick work of getting the jet up into the air before making your way over to her, bottle of water in hand.

You tuck it in between your thighs for later before unzipping the thick coat and pulling it off her shoulders.

"Breath, nat," you instruct as you pull her into your arms, rubbing a firm hand up and down her back. Her chest heaves against your own, each cough against your skin sounding like gravel. With no warning, you bend and lift her into your arms before carrying her over to one of the seats in the back of the jet.

She does nothing more than cling to you, legs tight around your waist and that's how you knew she must be feeling rough because the only time she normally lets carry her like this was during or after sex. The one time you'd tried out of the bedroom, she'd scolded you for manhandling her like an incompetent infant.

With a small smirk at the memory, you ease her down and kneel down in front of her, resting a hand on each of her thighs and giving them a soft squeeze. "Here baby." You offer her the water, cap already off.

Natasha takes a deep, hoarse breath before bringing the top to her mouth for a few careful sips, handing it back over to you and waiting for you to move out of the way before hanging her head between her legs.

You take a seat next to her and begin rubbing your hand up and down her back. "We'll back back at the compound soon. Will you let me look after you?" You question hopefully.

Natasha doesn't hesitate to nod.

**

@goldenempyrean @somber-sapphic @bloomingflowersthings @mywitchy-assassin @thewidowintheweb

[naminethewriter]

On the Road, Just the Two of Us

Chapter Eight: At Our Destination, Not Just the Two of Us

Masterpost | First | Previous | Ao3

Summary: This was written for @dukeceit-week-2024, @dukeceitweek

Janus and Remus are living in a campervan at the moment. Are they going somewhere? Who knows. The only thing that’s important is that they’re together.

Content Warnings: Flirting, Kissing, Bickering between the twins

🌻🌻🌻🌻

“I don’t want this to end,” Remus admitted quietly.

“I know, darling.” Janus didn’t look over at his boyfriend, too focused on the GPS that told him they were only five minutes away from their destination.

“Can’t we just drive past and keep going?”

“No, dear. It was fun and I loathe to admit I wouldn’t mind if this trip was longer, but we need to go back at some point. I can only take off time from work for so long and we do still need the money. Even if we were to live like this full time. I don’t think I’d enjoy it on a permanent basis, actually.”

Remus sighed, leaning heavily into his seat.

“Yeah, I know. Me too, actually. I can’t sculpt like this. Or paint on the scale I’d like. I know it’s for the best, but still… I don’t wanna deal with the responsibilities again.”

“I cannot relate to that at all.” Janus moved his hand to Remus’ thigh and squeezed. “It’s going to be fine. You focus on your art and let me deal with all the annoying paperwork and bills.”

“You’re gonna be busy again,” Remus accused, though it was in a lighter tone. He was indeed upset at that fact, but he also knew that it was necessary.

“Yes. That’s probably not going to change for a long while.”

“I know. It sucks ass.”

“It does.”

The GPS announced the last turn they would have to make before they’d reach their destination at the end of the road.

“We’ll find the time to do something like this again, promise,” Janus said. “Not every year, not even every other year but we’ll do it again.”

“I’ll cut you if we don’t.”

“Sounds fair.”

They drove the last stretch of their journey in silence, just enjoying each other’s company and reflecting on the past three month on their own.

It had been the most freeing time in Janus’ life.

He was going to miss it.

He pulled the van into a free parking spot outside a lovely, old hotel. The location of the wedding.

“Are you ready?” he asked Remus. His boyfriend huffed.

“One last thing.” Remus pulled Janus over to him, practically lifting him from the driver’s seat and onto his lap, before sealing their lips together. It was unusually sweet for him, no tongue involved.

They parted a few minutes later.

“Now I’m ready,” Remus grinned and Janus chuckled.

“Then let’s go.” He leaned over to grab the keys from the ignition before climbing out of Remus’ lap and out of the passenger door. Remus followed after him, but not without commenting on how good his butt looked.

“There you are! Finally!” The car door wasn’t even closed behind them before Roman was stalking over to them, looking close to furious. “Do you have any idea what time it is? You were supposed to be here yesterday!”

“What a nice welcome,” Janus commented dryly, causing Remus to burst out in giggles and Roman to glare at him.

“Sorry, Ro-bro, but we got turned around.”

“Oh, really?” Roman asked, obviously not convinced, his arms crossed.

“No, he saw a flyer for a carnival and begged me to go.”

“It was super fun, I almost puked on one of their rides! So worth it.”

“I cannot believe you two! A carnival, really?! The rehearsal dinner for your wedding is in two hours! Two hours! And you both look like you haven’t showered in a week!”

“Don’t be dramatic, it was only five days.” Roman groaned and Remus smiled at him, delighted by his annoyance.

“I do not know why you didn’t get a better van! One with a shower! Janus is a lawyer for goodness’ sake, you could’ve easily afforded it!”

“Yeah, but that wasn’t the aesthetic we were going for!”

“I am so going to strangle you!”

“Oh, look, the grooms finally made it,” a new voice commented, and Janus turned to see that Virgil, his best man, had joined them. “Roman was going up the walls since yesterday, it was hilarious to watch.”

“I can’t imagine that at all.” Janus smirked. “You seem quite calm though. Usually you would be right there with him, worrying your pretty little head off about everything.” Virgil elbowed him in the arm for that and rolled his eyes.

“Why would I stress myself out about your wedding? You already paid for all of this, so it’s not like it would’ve been a loss for me if you didn’t end up showing. Plus, I know the two of you, of course nothing here would go to plan, especially since Roman did most of the planning. I was sure you’re going to turn up late, if just to spite him. Hell, I wouldn’t put it past you to have arrived here like two days ago and you’ve just stayed in the van ten minutes from here until you could be fashionably late. I’m more surprised you showed up for the rehearsal at all. Second plus, Logan’s been weirdly insistent that you’d be here around this time. I think Remus has been texting him updates.”

“Why should we put so much effort into a wedding Roman wanted more than us? We would have been fine with getting an officiant into our backyard during a barbeque. He insisted on something more ‘meaningful.’” Janus rolled his eyes and Virgil snickered.

“He and his high standards. Anyway, let’s get you inside and under a shower. You reek.”

“Why, thank you Virgil, for telling me that so politely.”

“Fuck off and just come along.”

They started off towards the hotel, closely followed by the twins that were still arguing.

“And what the hell was that text about sunflowers in the bouquet?” Roman huffed, still rather worked up. “You can’t expect me to change that on such short notice! And they would have clashed with the other colors, plus they stand for platonic affection, not romantic!”

“The fuck you mean ‘short notice?’ I asked you about that two and a half months ago!”

“Yes, way too late! I added some sunflowers to the decorations but not the bouquet.”

“Wow, thank you for your sacrifice.”

They continued to bicker like that the entire way. When they reached the entrance to the hotel, Virgil pulled the door open and held it for them all to pass. Janus let the twins go first, since Roman seemed about to explode if he didn’t get Remus ready immediately. Janus watched them disappear further into the building when Virgil lightly shoved his shoulder with his own.

“So, you ready to get married?” he asked.

Janus watched Remus laugh loudly and pulling his brother into a hug and he smiled.

“I was ready to marry him years ago.”

🌻🌻🌻🌻

This is the end of the story! Thank you all so much for reading, reblogging, tagging and commenting 💛💚

[filhadoboto]

The chosen one

Summary: During the reading of his mother's will, Aleksander Morozov discovers that, so that his inheritance does not end up in the hands of his hated cousin Malyen Oretsev, he will have to get married within a year.

AO3

chapter 1; chapter 2; chapter 3; chapter 4; chapter 5; chapter 6; chapter 7; chapter 8; chapter 9; chapter 10

Chapter 11 - The Engagement - part 2

Two days later, Aleksander and Alina were on the road to Os Kervo.

Since his family ring was an object easily recognizable to those who lived with Baghra, Alina left it in the Little Palace safe. Even though only a few days had passed since he had placed it on her finger, Aleksander didn't like looking at her hand and not seeing the ring, but they needed to keep the engagement a secret and people would know she was his fiancée the moment they saw the ring on her finger.

Although Aleksander suggested that one of the Little Palace's maids accompany them on their trip to Os Kervo, Alina refused. Her argument was that no one would think she was anything other than a maid accompanying her master, and that she doubted anyone would even pay her any attention when they made a stop . Knowing the society they lived in, Aleksander was forced to agree. Even dressed in her finest clothes, Alina would never be mistaken for anything other than a maid.

Although he didn’t like his fiancée’s self-deprecating tone at all, she was right. Anyone who saw her would have dismissed her as a maid traveling with her master and nothing more. In a way, it was a good thing that things were this way, as it would reduce the chances of anyone who saw them deducing that Alina was his chosen one and of news of the marriage spreading and reaching Malyen.

The journey took about five hours, but he couldn’t deny that he was glad to have so much time alone with his fiancée. The last three days had diluted the awkwardness that had arisen between them after he had discovered the truth and the easy camaraderie between them had returned.

She was nervous and afraid of Ulla’s reaction and, at Alina’s request, Aleksander listened to her entire story to help her focus on something else. His fiancée began by telling him that she actually had no memories of her past, her life before the orphanage was a big blur in her mind. She didn't remember anything about her parents or where they had lived before she was taken to the orphanage in Keramzin. Alina told him that she sometimes remembered a field at dusk and fireflies, the sound of laughter and the gentle voices of people she believed were her parents. She confessed to him that she sometimes dreamed of a man and a woman in a field full of fireflies at dusk, but she didn't know if this was a memory or just a reflection of her desire to know where she came from.

She didn't remember her birthday and wasn't even sure of her age, but the person in charge of the orphanage thought she was eight years old when she was taken there. Alina only remembered her name and that the person who had taken her to the orphanage had found her wandering near a village somewhere in the Dva Stolba valley. Alina was starving and very sick, and if the man hadn't found her and taken care of her, she would have died. She never saw this man again after he left her at the orphanage, and she didn’t remember his name, only that he had a kind smile and a musical voice. She was very sick and weak when she arrived at the orphanage, and she not only had trouble eating but also sleeping. The people who worked at the orphanage believed that she wouldn’t survive long, but she did.

A few weeks after her arrival at the orphanage, a friend of Duke Keramzov, Mrs. Margareth Oretseva, Aleksander's aunt, visited the orphanage. Mrs. Oretseva made occasional visits to the orphanage, and during the summer she would often welcome the orphanage children to her family's estate so they could have fun in the large park and with the animals. Upon being introduced to the newly arrived children, Margosha showed great interest and genuine concern for Alina and her health. At Margosha's insistence, Alina was taken to Os Alta and examined by one of the woman's trusted physicians.

After a few months of treatment, Alina fully recovered her health and, in a sense, was adopted by the woman, as she spent more time with Margosha at her home than at the orphanage. It was only at this time that Alina learned that the woman had lost her daughter a few years earlier and that she would have been the same age as Alina if she were alive. Although Margosha had told her that she had a son, Alina only met Malyen in person when she returned from Os Alta.

Despite their differences in social class, she and Malyen got along well and the two soon became inseparable friends. Seeing this, Margosha decided that Alina would be her protégé and, as such, would receive the same education as her son. Mrs. Oretseva paid for Alina's education and sent her to a good girls' school in Polysnaya, as she wanted to ensure that she would have a good future and find a good husband.

As he listened to her story, an old memory came flooding back to Aleksander. His aunt Margosha had said on one of the rare occasions when the whole family had gathered at Morozov Hall that she had decided to honor her daughter Anna by giving financial support to the local orphanage. And occasionally, in their letters, she had mentioned how she had a special affection for one of the girls at the orphanage who was the same age as her daughter would have been if she were alive. Now he realized that the girl was Alina Starkova. His aunt helped with her education, and Alina and Malyen had practically grown up together because of their bond.

There was a mixture of pain and resignation in her voice when Alina confessed that she had loved Mal yen from the first moment she saw him, and that she had always believed that she knew him, that he truly cared about her, and that she would love him forever.

A heavy silence hung between them as she made this confession.

Would Aleksander's heart ever get used to hearing those words without suffering?

But at that moment his suffering was insignificant compared to hers. He wanted to hug her and comfort her. He wanted to tell her that Malyen had never deserved her and never would, but his fiancée had already understood that and was beginning to accept the truth.

He wanted to tell her that he was in love with her and that he would do anything to make her happy, to make her heart whole once more. But he just looked at her and, realizing that Alina was lost in her thoughts, waited patiently for her to continue her story.

Alina shook her head as if to dispel the memories and took a deep breath before continuing with her story. Time passed and she and Malyen grew as did her love for him. All the care and attention she had received from Margosha had caused Alina to transfer her affection and love to the woman and her son. She was sent to the girls' school in Polysnaia and she looked forward to the answers to her letters to Malyen and Margosha and the reunions during the summer and the end of the year in Keramzin. During her visits, Alina used her free time to visit and entertain her benefactor, Mrs. Oretseva, and sometimes when Malyen was away, she would spend a few days with her at her residence to keep her company. Mrs. Oretseva loved to hear her play, even though Alina was not very talented, and she also often read aloud to Margosha.

Knowing that their differences would keep them apart, Alina hid her love and contented herself with being Malyen's friend and confidant. He would often tell her about the girls he found pretty, about the people he knew, and about his adventures in the new places he had visited . And even though she felt jealous, she never had the courage to talk about it or reveal her true feelings for him.

After finishing her studies, Alina returned to Keramzin and discovered that Margosha had several suitors in mind for her and had even taken on the role of matchmaker a few times, but Alina rejected them all, claiming that she did not feel ready to be a wife yet. The truth was that she could not imagine marrying another man when she loved Malyen. In her deluded heart she held out hope that as long as he was single there would still be some chance that he would fall in love with her.

Aleksander couldn't help but wonder if the only reason Alina had accepted his marriage proposal was the fact that Malyen had set the date for his wedding with another woman and that everything else Malyen had done would have had no bearing on her decision if his cousin was still single. Alina loved Malyen deeply, and even though it hurt a lot, it was hard to believe that Alina would give up any tiny chance of being with Malyen as long as she believed there was any hope of her feelings being reciprocated by him.

Alina returned to live at the orphanage and gave music and drawing lessons to the children as a way of repaying them for what they had done for her. Duke Keramsov even praised her dedication to the children and considered the idea of ​​her becoming the successor to the orphanage's administrator, but Alina wanted to get a job as a tutor for a family and her experience teaching the children at the orphanage would probably help her in this. She loved Malyen and knew she could never marry him, so her plan was to spend some time in Keramzin while she looked for a governess position in some family’s residence. With that in mind, she applied for a few governess positions she had seen in the newspapers and was waiting for responses.

Alina was visiting Mrs. Oretseva and listening to her praise the eldest son of one of her tenants and talk about what a good husband he would be for Alina when the news of Baghra's death arrived. The news, however, did not make the woman sad and her reaction was to continue the conversation as if nothing had happened after instructing one of the maids to pack her bags for her trip to Kirbrisk for the reading of the will.

Having grown up listening to Mrs. Oretseva talk about where she grew up and how she and her sister had a terrible relationship, Alina was not shocked by her reaction to the news of her sister’s death. And it was to Alina that Malyen confided about his hatred for his cousin over the years, a cousin whom Alina had also learned to despise in support of the man she loved. So Alina was happy when they returned from the reading of the will and informed her that Malyen could inherit his maternal grandfather's family fortune if the cousin he hated did not marry within a year.

The next day, Malyen visited her alone at the orphanage and asked her to take a walk with him. Alina, who had never refused him anything, accepted. This was not the first time that they would take a walk alone around the orphanage or the Oretsev family estate. When they arrived at a meadow where they had often gone since childhood, Malyen revealed his true intentions in taking her there.

Malyen confessed that he had loved her all his life and that he was also aware of her feelings for him. He explained that he had kept quiet because of his financial dependence on the family's money and because he knew that his mother would disown him if he chose her as his wife, who belonged to a social class so far below his own. She felt like she was in a dream as she heard him say that now that there was a possibility of him inheriting Morozov Hall, he felt for the first time that there was hope for them and decided to reveal his feelings in the hope that she would agree to help him secure the inheritance.

Alina was so happy that her feelings were reciprocated that she didn't hesitate to agree to help him and told him that she would do whatever it took to ensure that they would be together. Then he told her his plan and how she could help him. Malyen wanted her to write to Alexei asking him to help her get the job as a maid at the Little Palace and to spy on his cousin so that he could take action to prevent Aleksander from getting married before the deadline.

His plan surprised her. Alina hadn’t hidden anything about her life from Malyen and his mother, and had told them not only about her friendship with Alexei, but also about the letter her friend had sent her informing her about the maid position at the Little Palace. But what she hadn’t had the courage to tell them or anyone else was the reason why Alexei wanted her to apply for the position. Both Alexei and his master had praised her drawings and paintings, and her friend had mentioned that Duke Morozov patronized artists he thought were talented, and Alexei was certain that he would become her patron if he saw her work. Alexei felt that a job as a maid at the Little Palace was her best chance of gaining his patronage and realizing her dream of owning a studio.

Aleksander couldn't help but smile at that. Alexei knew him well and he wasn't wrong in thinking that he would indeed recognize Alina's talent when he saw her work. And it was at that moment that he realized what would be the perfect wedding gift for Alina, one that he would need help preparing, but that would certainly make Alina very happy.

However, from everything Malyen had told her, Alina did not believe that Duke Morozov would be so generous, and it was only when the position began to represent the possibility of a future with the man she loved that she became truly interested. However, she had already committed to another employer. While Malyen and his mother were in Kirbrisk for the reading of Baghra’s will, she had received a reply to her application for a position as governess to a family living near Ivets asking her to visit the family as soon as possible. She had told him so, but Malyen had insisted that he needed her to be his spy at the Little Palace and help make sure that Aleksander would not be married on time.

Before she could argue, Malyen had told her that he loved her, that she was the only person who could help him, and then he had kissed her. At that moment, overwhelmed by her own feelings and hopes, Alina found no strength or reason to deny him anything. Much less access to her body, because Malyen didn't just want to kiss her and she couldn't deny him her body since he had always had her heart.

Alina stopped talking and the two of them were silent for a few seconds. She was pale and he imagined that not only remembering but confessing all of that to him must be very painful.

His fiancée closed her eyes for a few seconds and took a deep breath before opening them and continuing her story. Determined to help Malyen, she had written to the family in Ivets informing them that for personal reasons she could not visit them and had replied to Alexei's letter telling him that she would love to work at the Little Palace and try to secure the Duke's patronage. Malyen was so anxious for her to get the job that he visited her every day to see if Alexei had replied to her letter.

After receiving Alexei's reply in which her friend informed her that he had taken all the necessary steps and made all the necessary arrangements for her to take the position, Malyen had offered her the family carriage to take her to the inn where Alexei would wait for her to accompany her to Morozov Hall. She didn't stop to consider the morality of what she was doing until she had been at the Little Palace for a few weeks and had had the chance to meet Aleksander and talk to the other employees.

“You already know the rest of the story, Aleksander.” She finished in a tired tone and he nodded slowly.

Yes, he knew the rest of the story. They had developed a friendship and he had fallen in love with her.

“Do you still love him, Alina?” he heard himself ask and it took them both by surprise.

Why had he asked that? Of all the things she had just told him, why ask about that? He already knew the answer, but he wanted to know if she still loved him anyway. And what difference would it make to him to hear confirmation that she still loved Malyen? Even if Alina would never come to love him as much as she loved Malyen, he knew he had enough love for both of them.

Alina looked at her hands clasped tightly on her lap for a few seconds and ran her thumb over her ring finger. The same finger that had carried his family ring until that morning. When he thought she wouldn’t answer, the girl looked him in the eye and replied simply, “I’ve loved him almost my entire life.”

Aleksander felt immense discomfort at hearing that answer. Although it was an evasive answer, he knew that the obvious answer was yes. Alina had made it quite clear that she loved Malyen both in her letters and in her story. Aleksander couldn’t help but study her as he tried to understand why she hadn’t given him a straight answer.

He saw fear in her eyes as she asked, “Has knowing all this changed your mind?”

Changed his mind? Not even death would make him give up on her, for he would search for her in another life and keep searching until he found her again.

He gave her a mischievous smile to hide his true feelings and replied, “It’s not that easy to get rid of me, Alina. Besides, it’s not your love that I need to receive my inheritance. Your consent before the reverend and the magistrate is enough.”

Alina nodded and began, “You asked me if there was any chance I could be carrying his child. I was wondering and I need to ask.” She stopped and looked him in the eyes before asking, “Aleksander, would you still propose to me if I was pregnant?”

He thought carefully about her question for a few seconds. He wouldn't be happy raising another man's child, especially someone he hated, but he was in love with Alina and he couldn't imagine rejecting her because of that.

“I would not mind raising his child as my own, since that child would be linked to me by blood, as long as he never knew of the child's existence.”

She gave him a small, relieved smile and he couldn't help but ask, “Would you marry me if you knew you were carrying his child?”

Alina seemed taken aback by his question, but answered after a few seconds, “If I were carrying his child, I wouldn't have hesitated to tell him.”

That didn't answer his question, so he persisted, “But would you marry me?”

Alina took a deep breath and answered honestly, “It's complicated. I couldn't hide something like that from you or him. The guilt would destroy me.”

He nodded and was taken aback when she asked, “Do you want to know what I wrote in the letter I sent him informing him that I would no longer spy on you?”

The letter that had triggered the response Aleksander had read and led him to discover everything. Without that letter he would never have known of his cousin's plans. Without that letter he would never have discovered Alina's true intentions in coming to Morozov Hall. Without that letter he would not be engaged to the woman he loved.

Curious, Aleksander nodded.

Alina looked out the window for a few seconds before saying, “That letter was the hardest I’ve ever written in my life, but at the same time it made me feel relieved when I finished it.” She looked at him and added, “I told him that I had decided to listen to my conscience and stop spying on you, and that if you found a bride, word would surely reach him in time for him to act to prevent your marriage.” He nodded and she took a deep breath before continuing, “I assured him that I would keep his secrets, and I asked him to keep mine. And I ended by informing him that I would not return to Keramzin and that we would probably never see each other again.”

“So you had no plans to go to him?” he asked before he could stop himself. All this time he had assumed that Alina intended to return to Keramzin to wait for his cousin to fulfill his promises to her.

“No, I hadn’t,” she answered truthfully.

“I assumed that you intended to return to Keramzin at some point and…”

“And force Mal to fulfill all the promises he made to me?” she finished, and he nodded. “I still didn't know where to go, but I knew I didn't want to go back to Keramzin at that point.”

“May I ask why?” he asked in an anxious tone.

“I prefer to keep my reasons to myself,” she replied, repeating his words and giving him a teasing smile before adding, “At least for now.”

He smiled at her using his words against him and simply said, “It seems fair to me.”

Alina laughed, making it clear that she felt comfortable with him. He couldn’t help but join her.

He might not have her love, but he had her friendship and that was enough.

---

The afternoon was beginning when their carriage stopped in front of his family home in Os Kervo.

They had planned to stop to stretch their legs and get something to eat halfway, but Alina had fallen asleep shortly after finishing telling him her story and Aleksander preferred to let her rest.

Aleksander watched her the whole time as he fell into a delirium about what their life would be like, if one day Alina would fall in love with him, if they would be happy even if she never loved him. He thought about what it would be like to spend his days with her and grow old by her side. He thought about whether she wanted children and if one day he would be able to hold one of their children in his arms. In his mind, he lived entire lives by her side and it was only when they entered the city that he was pulled out of his delirium and woke her up.

His fiancée watched the streets and people curiously and attentively, and he watched her expressions and reactions as closely as he could. And it was only when the carriage turned onto the street where the Morozov residence was that he felt a pang of fear. What if his fiancée's fears were realized and Ulla would not accept Alina as his bride? What if Ulla and Genya tried to convince him not to marry the woman he loved? What if he had to choose between his sister and the woman he loved? What would he do?

He shook his head and banished those thoughts to the back of his mind. There was no reason for him to suffer in advance. He would look for a solution to problems when they arose, if they arose.

As soon as they got out of the carriage, Aleksander heard the door of the house open and Ulla and Genya came out to greet them with wide smiles of welcome and he had no doubt that the two had spent at least the last hour looking out the window and waiting anxiously for them. He smiled and waved to them before helping Alina to disembark.

Though her expression was serene, he felt the tremor in her hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze. Alina gave him a grateful smile and the two of them turned to the girls waiting for them. He watched the two of them and noticed that Genya looked intrigued and curious and Ulla didn't seem the least bit surprised to see Alina with him, holding hands with him.

Ulla walked over to them and hugged him before greeting Alina with a smile and a warm embrace. His sister did not look at the carriage again or ask if there was anyone else inside and when she took Alina's arm and introduced her to Genya as her dear friend, Aleksander's intuition told him that his sister had already deduced that Alina was his fiancée.

Or maybe she's just happy to see her friend again and is thinking that Alina has accompanied me and that my fiancée must be on her way with her family , he thought.

Genya wrapped her arms around him and told him she was happy to see him again and before he or Alina could say anything the newcomers were ushered inside. Mrs. Yakovleva was waiting for them at the entrance and greeted them as well. The four of them went up to the living room and made themselves comfortable. Even though they didn’t know she was his fiancée, Ulla and Genya welcomed Alina with all the attention, consideration, and affection he knew he could expect from them.

They only had time to answer questions about how their journey had been before two maids entered the room carrying refreshments and a light meal.

“You must be starving,” Ulla commented and looked at Alina before adding, “My brother always needs to eat something sweet when he comes back from a trip.”

Alina nodded and commented with a sweet smile, “I know. Mrs. Stepanova never lets the Little Palace kitchen run out of sweets.”

Aleksander couldn’t help but smile. The four of them sat down and ate while Aleksander, Ulla, and Genya exchanged information about their mutual friends and other family members. His sister and cousin would include Alina in the conversation when they explained who they were talking about. Although Alina didn't know who most of the people they were talking about were, she seemed interested in the gossip the other girls were telling them and laughed as she heard about the embarrassing things these people had said or done or that had happened to them.

“So, Aleksander, when are you going to officially introduce us to your chosen one?” Genya asked when they had finished their meal, her intelligent golden eyes fixed on Alina.

Of course, they had already deduced that Alina was his chosen one. It had been foolish of him to think otherwise.

Alina looked at him and he saw a mix of uncertainty and fear in her eyes. He gave her a small nod, stood up, and offered her his hand. Alina held it tightly, stood up, and stood beside him. Aleksander gave her hand a comforting squeeze before turning to the other two girls who were looking at them with curiosity and expectation.

“Sister. Cousin,” he began, and there was a hint of nervousness in his voice. “I would like to introduce you to my chosen one. Miss Alina Starkova.”

He expected surprise or even protest, but the two girls exchanged a knowing look and a conspiratorial smile. Then they both looked at Alina with sincere smiles, stood up and hugged her again as they congratulated her on their engagement. His fears were dispelled, for he knew the girls well and knew that their reactions were sincere. His Alina seemed surprised by the reaction and reception of the other girls, but accepted the congratulations with a grateful smile.

Genya then hugged him and whispered in his ear, “I’m glad you found a solution, Sasha.” referring to the conversation they had at his godmother’s house in the Lake District.

He looked her in the eyes and said with a smile, “Me too.”

Genya kissed his cheek and gave him a mischievous smile before adding, “I can’t wait to hear every detail about you two.”

Before he could comment, Aleksander was being hugged by his sister, who simply said in an emotional tone, “I’m so happy for you, brother!”

He hugged her tightly, relieved that his sister had approved of his choice, and couldn't help but smile back as he looked into her eyes and said sincerely, “I'm very happy too, sister.”

“I have no doubt that you two will be very happy together, Sasha!” she added, looking at her future sister-in-law.

He looked at his fiancée too and saw that Alina was smiling, but the smile didn't reach her eyes and he could see that she was tense even though she was so warmly accepted .

She's feeling guilty, a voice whispered in his mind, she feels guilty for what she did and this warm welcome and immediate acceptance must be making her feel even worse.

His sister must have noticed Alina’s discomfort, for she remarked, “How insensitive of us! You must be exhausted from the journey, Alina.”

Alina gave her a guilty look and nodded before commenting, “I didn’t expect sitting in a carriage doing nothing for a few hours to be so exhausting, Miss Morozova.”

The two girls nodded, but Aleksander knew that other things had contributed to her exhaustion. Alina was emotionally drained after telling him about her life.

Ulla gave her a disapproving look and corrected her, “We’ll be a family soon, my dear friend. Please call me Ulla.”

Alina nodded, but still looked uncomfortable with the idea.

“Your quarters are ready,” Genya commented and called one of the maids and asked her to accompany Alina to her quarters, leaving the three of them alone.

He had promised them both in his letters that he would explain everything to them in person. Although he could see the anxiety and questions in their eyes and expressions, they did not voice it, much less pressure him to explain his change of mind or his choice. He knew that they would wait for him to take the initiative and tell them what had happened so that he would not only change his mind but also choose a maid as his bride.

“I promise I will answer all your questions after I rest,” he said.

The two agreed and he retired to his quarters.

[tobiasdrake]

The Disappearance of Nagato Yuki-chan, Episode 16

Final episode. It's now or never, Yuki. If you don't pull that trigger this time then you'll never have another--

Well, actually, I think I heard the manga goes farther than the anime does? So. Maybe not. But I want my catharsis after all the time and feels I've invested in her emotional journey!

My dude, it is 2015. You need to sit down with Itsuki for a coffee and ask him about climate change.

Oh this ship is fucked. I don't know how you come back from jerking your hand away from her touch like she's infected with plague.

Pretty sure you're at "Fake my death and move to the next town over" territory at this point.

Like. I get where he's coming from. Factory Settings confessed her love to him and then immediately dropped dead. Anyone would be freaked out over that.

I'm just saying, poor Yuki. She does not know the context of this moment. Minus that, I would be super offended.

Look at her trying not to cry while she apologizes for holding hands with the boy she likes, like it was a grievous personal transgression. The boy who, I should note, grabbed her hand in the first place rather than the other way around.

Yuki. Sweetheart. I'm so sorry this is your life right now.

I can't even be like, "Tell him, Yuki," because boy is grieving so that would not help. Things just suck for everyone in this moment.

Oh my god.

We are actually doing a ninth episode of Eternal Eight.

I mean. In a sense, we've been doing a ninth episode of Eternal Eight since the previous episode. Still.

The audacity. I'm not even mad. I've been complaining about recycling material for the last two episodes but part of me admires the brazenness in going full stop, "Fuck all-a y'all, IT'S ETERNAL EIGHT AGAIN ASSHOLES." XD

Like. There is a logic to ending the series by revisiting the arc that caused Yuki to malfunction and eat Haruhi in the first place. I just. the context of it being this arc specifically.

They had seven years to make new Haruhi material. Seven years to think about the reception to the existing material, and make decisions for what they'd want to do in the new spinoff show. And somebody actually had the nerve to go, "You know what the fans really want? More Eternal Eight."

That is such a Fuck You move that I'm kinda here for it.

Mikuru and Tsuruya aren't here because the timey-wimey shenanigans put Ryoko here instead. That means we're probably not going goldfish scooping.

I do believe I said earlier that I hope everyone died in any cycle where we deprived Mikuru of the one thing she wanted. Sorry, gang, but you're all going under the nearest bus.

Look on the bright side. It might bring Factory Settings back.

Took you 594 years to figure your shit out last time. Try and break your record, Kyon!

Itsuki's branching out into subtle metaphor. Kyon never retains anything Itsuki tells him directly so maybe giving him a puzzle to solve will make him internalize the knowledge better.

Or it will fly over his head. One of the two.

Will Yuki remember to buy a mask? And will they go goldfish scooping so they don't all have to die in a wildfire moments after the credits roll? These are the important questions of Festival Trip 9.

OH MY HARUHI she got distracted by a live performance of Will It Blend. FELT THOUGH. Holy shit, I miss those shameless commercials barely masquerading as an entertainment web show.

You know what? I can accept this. As long as she's having the time of her life, I can forgive a lack of goldfish scooping.

Get fucked, Tsuruya. It is Blender Time.

This is officially one of the best scenes in the franchise. Up there with the time she punched Kyon in the face. Mikuru is getting to enjoy life with no strings attached and got to violently assault one of her abusers. Just like punching Kyon, I could watch her backhand Tsuruya on loop for hours.

Now we just need a scene of her pushing Haruhi in front of a bus and she'll have a hat trick of retaliations.

Also, I still demand they animate the scene of her hurling Kyon down a flight of stairs. I need it.

Okay so we're still going goldfish scooping, we're just doing it without Mikuru.

Not sure if that makes me vindictive again or not. Because on the one hand, this was Mikuru's activity. We were only doing it because she wanted it.

But she's having a really good time watching Will It Blend. If anyone went over to fetch her for scooping, they'd go in the blender.

Dooooo ittttttttttt

And also buy her a mask while you're at it. Failing to acquire a mask for Yuki may or may not also be a death-by-wildfire offense.

Legit thought she was going to be like, "If Yuki and Kyon are officially a thing now then that means you're up for grabs, right? 'Cause I call dibs."

But no. She is going to sort out her feelings with physical violence against inanimate objects.

This is way more believable than her OOC talk with Kyon earlier.

Also, by helping Ryoko sort her feelings with physical violence, Haruhi is nonetheless kinda calling dibs.

(In seriousness, I stand by what I said before regarding how, it may not seem like it, but the fracturing of their emotional codependency doesn't have to mean the end of Ryoko's relationship with Yuki. In time, it may even be stronger than ever for it.

Haruhi's definitely fucked, though. But. Y'know. Fuck her. She is my character and I say this with love but... get fucked, Haruhi. She will be better off in the long run for having learned to process disappointment, as opposed to the spoiled and entitled goddess who drugged Mikuru. This is the kind of thing she desperately needs in the original series.)

Now, all Kyon has to do is be open and honest with his feelings. Specifically, the feelings that I have decided on his behalf that he has, because he's never actually expressed romantic interest towards this version of Yuki but I NEED HIM TO IF THE SHIP IS GOING TO BE FULFILLED.

Which is how Melancholy handles him too. So it's fair.

Aww, Factory Settings came back for this. ^_^ Squee!

So. Confusing. For Escapist Yuki who's passively receiving a love confession meant for a different version of her, though. I feel like she just became a replacement goldfish for herself. So many complicated feelings about this.

Oh. Never mind. I guess Yuki lost the Yuki -> Kyon -> Factory Settings love triangle. Sorry, gurl. But at least you still have Spacetime.

Just. Not right now because you will go in that blender.

(Also Ryoko!)

EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

He is flirting with you.

In seriousness, it makes sense that they don't clinch the romance here. Like I said earlier, Kyon is grieving. This episode is his opportunity to finally sort out his feelings towards Factory Settings, which he needs to do before he'll be emotionally available for anyone.

This is about Kyon getting closure. I'm sure there's probably much more manga to come before Yuki finally gets what she wants, if she ever does - I keep thinking back to the way her wishes are never, "I want to be with Kyon" but rather "I want to stay friends with everyone."

Still. I want nice things for her, dammit!

Being adopted as Haruhi's mom is agony. Ryoko will be thrilled to know she remains employed at the Nagato residence.

She got something better than a goldfish this time around. She is armed and dangerous. Nobody will ever mess with Mikuru again.

She'll blend your phone. Your personal belongings. The clothes off your back. You. She is a deadly blending warrior now and don't you forget it.

Look at Tsuruya's face. Feel how the power dynamic has shifted.

I'm mad that we end on status quo.

But also happy for Yuki because she got what she wished for all the same.

Complicated feelings.

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA

Post-credits joke is top fucking tier HAHAHAHAHAHAHA

This makes no sense but it doesn't have to because this is the end of the road for the show, so it's not going to be followed up on. It's just. An amazing punchline to cap off the revisit of Eternal Eight.

[pompadourpink]

salut maman!! how long does it take to learn french? i guess it depends but wanted to ask

Hello child,

As I'm sure you can imagine, there is no unique answer to this. Not only because how quickly you'll become fluent will depend on your personality, learning style, tolerance to frustration, and the amount of free time you have and are willing to spend working on it, but also because fluency is a blurry concept, especially for romance languages since they're so dynamic and different from what you find in textbooks.

Starting from scratch, if you work half an hour a day, use the right tools, know how to alternate between activities, and learn things in the right order, I think you can get to about B1 in a year and B2 in two - which doesn't seem like much of a difference, but it's actually the biggest one when learning a language in my opinion.

What do I mean:

Half an hour a day: you need things to stick, so ten minutes wouldn't cut it, but I doubt more would be, first, realistic, because you'll have other things to worry about, sometimes you'll be sick, busy or on vacation, and second, sustainable: if you turn the experience into a burden, you'll be consistent for a few days, weeks, months, take one day off, and avoid your notes for the next eight months because you've stressed yourself out too much.

Use the right tools: my favourite resources are le Wiktionnaire (etymology is a good friend), Wordreference, Lenouvelobs and Deepl.

Alternate between activities: getting a grammar book and reading one page a day will make you miserable and steal your motivation. On day one, you can learn articles and practice, on day two, read a Petit ours brun book with the help of Deepl, on day three learn how to pronounce numbers on Youtube... One tip: start the day by reviewing what you did the day before.

Learn things in the right order: my method with beginners is typically to focus on reading and overlook writing and pronunciation for a while so that they can get a good understanding of our syntax, memorise prepositions, tell tenses apart, etc. If on day one, you decide to watch a dubbed version of Friends or Harry Potter, it will be the equivalent of getting a firearm, shooting yourself in the foot and wondering why it's not helping you run a marathon.

I've been tutoring for almost three years so I'll add this: your worst enemy will be your ego. I've heard many times people six months into their journey complain that they speak like a six-year-old without realising that it took the six-year-old six years.

It will be difficult, particularly if your first language is not romance: sometimes you'll have strokes (I have nearly fluent students who sometimes forget that adjectives can need to be pluralized or casually write il mangé convinced it's imperfect), sometimes you'll try to translate English even though it's generally not an available option, sometimes you'll blank over a basic word and rage.

It's fine. It's all fine. Trust the process.

Hope this helps! x

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