#not about to do that for the next however many years

[venusbyline]

Rhaenyra Targaryen — Dear Half-sister

— summary: Being in an affair with a Targaryen bastard was not a surprise either, even if her firstborn Jacaerys thought otherwise. What bothered the Queen was knowing that she was fucking with her own sister. Half-sister, if the first word could ease the weight of that entire complexity.

— pairing: Rhaenyra Targaryen x dragonseed!reader

— type: smut, dark

— word count: 2.1k

— tags/warnings: Femslash February, female!reader, dark!Rhaenyra, Targaryen bastard!reader, DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT, rape/non-con, Targcest (older sister/younger sister), dubcon, oral (female receiving), dry humping, body worship, pussy worship, degradation, rough sex, rough oral, age gap (older woman/younger woman), Rhaenyra is 37 and Reader is 23, implied cheating, infidelity, punishment, toxic relationship, ambiguous/open ending, face-slapping, violence, crying, dacryphilia, cum licking, curse words, brothel worker mentioned, minor Rhaenyra Targaryen/Daemon Targaryen, bisexual!Rhaenyra, bisexual(?)!reader, dom!Rhaenyra, sub!reader, canon divergence, porn with plot. no use of y/n, english is not my first language.

— author's notes: Welcome to the first Friday of Femslash February ❤️❤️ I hope you like it!

❥ about me • Rhaenyra masterlist • HOTD masterlist • main masterlist

— crossposting: AO3

Rhaenyra did not know what was happening with her mind when she forced you, a dragonseed, to warm her bedsheets more often than her own husband had done before Visenya's pregnancy.

Not that she was someone known for purity and chaste routine. The Queen was the exact opposite of that, she had always been way ahead of her time when it came to sex. The night Daemon took her to see a brothel, he told her that there was nothing wrong with wanting or feeling pleasure. Even though it was something said many years ago, when she was nothing more than a spoiled princess and desperate for a little bit of adventure, Rhaenyra kept her uncle's words like a mantra.

There was nothing wrong with wishing pleasure. There was nothing wrong with feeling pleasure.

But Rhaenyra knew what was happening between the two of you was wrong. Cheating on Daemon was the least worst of the problems, considering he had not sent any news during all that time at Harrenhal. Being in an affair with a Targaryen bastard was not a surprise either, even if her firstborn Jacaerys thought otherwise.

What bothered the Queen was knowing that she was fucking with her own sister.

Half-sister, if the first word could ease the weight of that entire complexity.

This whole weird affair started due to Rhaenyra's past anger. She accepted very well all the Targaryen bastards as her allies. She questioned their stories, wanting to know more about their lives so she could try to trust them better.

She had gotten close to some of them too.

However, there was you. The girl who made her roll her eyes every time your gazes met.

It was no surprise when she called you to the room where the Small Council meetings were held. The Queen pestered you more than her other allies, always demanding too much and always cursing your smallest mistakes...

"Did you order my presence here, Your Grace?" Your voice echoed between the big walls, hands behind your back after being brought there by one of the royal guards.

Rhaenyra lifted her head to look at you. She was sitting in her chair, fingers crossed and elbows resting on the table, as if she was not only analyzing you from top to bottom, but was also pondering the future talk before your arrival.

The knight left as soon as she gestured and told him to leave her alone with you. You raised an eyebrow at the sound of the doors closing. No face-to-face lecture by the Queen had been given without any guards nearby, but you knew that their only concerns were for the Rhaenyra's safety anyway.

"Hello, dear half-sister." The sneer from her rosy lips winced your body and skin. "Sit down, please." She pointed to the next chair.

Without another choice, you nodded silently and walked over to Rhaenyra. The nickname said in such a mocking tone made your stomach twist, a mix of worry and disgust.

As soon as you sat down next to her, the Queen's gaze went from your face to your body, noticing your specific clothes. "Were you flying with Vermithor?" After the confirmation, Rhaenyra remained silent for a while. "I see. It is good to create some kind of bond with our dragons, it will be very useful during the war."

"I suppose so."

Silence hung between the two of you for a few more moments. Those minutes felt like an eternity. You chose to keep your sight focused on random parts of the table, and it was empty of anything that could explain why the Queen had demanded a private conversation. "Did I do something wrong?"

You finally allowed yourself to ask, and Rhaenyra's violet eyes widened with slight surprise. Clearing her throat then, she shook her head. "No, you did not." She mumbled with no enthusiasm, looking down at her own hands, a hint of embarrassment blushing her pale cheeks. "Not this time."

You sighed frustrated due to the lack of explanation, somewhat rebellious act before the ruler — and your half-sister. "So what do you want to talk about?"

Rhaenyra did not seem to pay attention to your discreet impatience, or at least she did not seem to care about that. She just took a deep breath, drumming her fingers on the huge wooden furniture, thinking about how approaching the topic she wanted to discuss. Finally her voice came out hoarse and serious. "You know I do not appreciate your existence very much."

Ignoring the pang inside your heart at the too honest way she expressed her disgust, you just hummed, which caused Rhaenyra to deep breath again. "I am not trying to humiliate you." Despite the calm voice, she shook her leg uneasily, waiting for you to argue. When it did not come, she snorted. "Well, I do not appreciate your existence, but I need your help to—"

"Why?"

The unsolicited question caught her off guard. "What do you mean?" She replied with a frown, but already predicting what you wanted to know.

"Why do you hate me, Your Grace?" You repeated, finally surrendering to the thoughts that plagued your mind. "I have never done anything bad to you, I am doing well with my duties in your army and—"

Rhaenyra's hand went straight to your chin, grabbing it without any warning and forcing you to face her, despite your racing heart telling you to try back away. "And what did you expect? That I would be happy to have another sibling? Four of them are trying to kill me, I do not need one more for the list."

As much as her nails were digging into your skin with rage, there was a vulnerability behind that whole reaction, something she should not be showing around you or anyone else.

"Turning me against Your Grace does not make any sense..." The pain in your voice was clear.

Rhaenyra let out a mocking laugh. "I do not trust you. I met you just a few weeks ago, I did not even know about your existence before you appeared here along with the other dragonseeds."

"You do not trust me because you still do not know me, or because you really do not want to trust me?" You scoffed for the first time, making Rhaenyra's jaw clenched. "My apologies for my tone, My Queen, but both of us know the real reasons why you do not like me. It is because King Viserys fucked my mother and—"

Before you could finish your sudden outburst, Rhaenyra had already tangled her hands in your silver hair, the sounds of the two chairs falling when she stood up and lifted you with her. Your scalp ached, the growled sentences she said next becoming nothing more than annoying ringing in your ears after the rough slap she gave you in the face, echoing in your eardrum like an agony.

The confusion inside your mind was immediately interrupted when Rhaenyra forced you to kneel on the floor. Your bones hitting the floor did not disturb the queen. Actually, she enjoyed your fear and how your eyes blinked through the pain, trying to understand what was happening. She kept one hand in your strands, while the other began to undo the ties on her black and red dress.

It was not a quick process, she only had one hand to get rid of the clothes. However, she was already wearing just her corset over the linen chemise when you were able to see properly. "For the Gods' sake, what are you—"

Rhaenyra pushed your head closer to the fabric of the chemise, muffling your voice and scaring you due to the abrupt action and due to what you felt afterwards. The cloth was so thin that you felt your nose touching her clit, the sweet smell that you could not identify until the Queen's deep voice ordered another thing. "Lift my dress and eat me out."

"W-What?"

Rhaenyra snorted at your stupid doubt. She could not understand how you did not know what she was wanting. You were kneeling on the floor, with your face slapped, her fingers buried in your head and with her swollen pearl so close to your face. "I said... Eat me out. Right now."

You did not have any chance to open your mouth to argue or refuse the tempting yet macabre offer. Rhaenyra was already rubbing her needy cunt against your face, the fabric of her underwear helping to get wet each time she moved faster and harder. Your hands wanted to grab her thigh tightly to get her away, to get yourself away from that confusing position that you did not even have time to process.

At one point, you were arguing with the half-sister who hated you. At one point, you could see her fury when you considered speaking badly about her father — the father of both of you.

And now, a few minutes later, you were on your knees like a dog, the reddish mark from her violence on your skin, as well as the marks from the nails that bruised your cheeks. You were not moving a single muscle, barely able to think about something coherent while Rhaenyra turned your brain into jelly, the stain on the white linen causing a musky smell every time Rhaenyra moved her hips back and forth, dry humping with the help of the tip of your nose.

You did not even have to do anything for a while. Rhaenyra soon growled, keeping her fist firm in the silver strands of your hair, using her free fingers to lift her own chemise.

"Have you ever seen one of these or are all your clients men?" The older woman scoffed, cruelty towards your former work explicit in the words.

You had seen many different bodies over the years as a prostitute, including female bodies. However, none of them compared to Rhaenyra's body. Even though you could not see so much due to the clothing covering her waist upwards, you could admire some specific parts. The lower part of her stomach was not plain, it was smooth but also flabby, white streaks marking across her milky skin, indicating how her body adapted to six different pregnancies. As were her thighs, which were quite thick and also with stretch marks that highlighted the mature beauty.

And her cunt was the prettiest one. A true Realm's Delight. It was kinda plump and fleshy, covered with a layer of blonde wavy hair, rosy inner lips escaping a little from her outer lips. You were tempted to stick your tongue out and lick up the sweet drops, but you composed yourself.

Rhaenyra knew you would never deny her desires again, and both of you knew you needed each other. You needed Rhaenyra's acceptance and she needed you as an ally. Perhaps even something more, like a paramour.

She hated understanding where your stubborn personality came from. At the same time, you seemed so loyal to her right to the Iron Throne. You were her half-sister. You are a Targaryen, but not just any Targaryen.

Every time Rhaenyra looked at you, she was tormented by the fact that you were so much younger than her. Only one year older than her enemy, her half-brother. The Usurper. She was fourteen years older than you, the girl she was now practically forcing to lick every drop of her, your tongue paying special attention to the swollen and sensitive bud, the loud moans echoing off the walls, wet noises of her cunt being graced by a dragonseed's tongue too.

At that moment, Rhaenyra Targaryen no longer cared if you were a whore before all of that. She no longer cared if her father had spent his mourning time in brothels, fucking some cheap woman who had mothered an unknown child. At that moment, Rhaenyra did not care if your existence angered her often, if Daemon would be jealous about the cheating, if Jacaerys would find it disgusting if he found out. She did not remember why she demanded your presence there.

All that mattered to Rhaenyra was cumming into your soft mouth, holding your head between her legs until she was rubbing herself against your face to prolong the eager release.

"Not bad, little sister..." Rhaenyra cleared her throat, her voice breathless, cheeks flushed and chest heaving. She watched you kneel on the floor, your pretty face blushed and glowing with her cum.

"Thank you, Your Grace."

Your trembling voice and the embarrassed tears in the corners of your eyes made Rhaenyra enjoy it more. All that mattered to her from that moment on was keeping the affair for as long as she wanted, even if it was humiliating for you or even if you did not want that.

After all, you were just a Targaryen bastard who was never legitimized. It was impossible to disobey the orders and wishes of the rightful Queen.

[delilahsturns]

— ୨୧ getting older . . . m.s

in which . . . two childhood best friends bump into each other after drifting apart.

warnings . . . resolved angst, fluff toward end.

a/n 💌 : based off of real life experiences lol, it’s been a while since i’ve written angst so i hope you like it!

written by @delilahsturniolo. do not copy, steal, or modify my works. if you are taking any inspiration from this, please ask me first before posting and credit me in your description. happy reading! :)

The coffee shop in boston, massachusetts smelled exactly the same as it always did. a nostalgic and sweet blend of cinnamon and espresso that floated around the air. you had been avoiding this cafe for quite some time now, considering that you had just moved back to boston around a year ago to be closer to your family and friends. too many memories were wrapped up in this place—so much laughter, whispered secrets, and mostly of all…him.

you sighed heavily, adjusting the strap of the bag slung on your shoulder as you waited in line, scrolling mindlessly through your phone. suddenly, you heard a voice call out your name. a warm, and familiar voice you hadn’t heard in nearly eight years.

“y/n?” the voice asked softly. your heart stalled, something in your mind clicked. fuck, this couldn’t be, this had to be some sort of illusion, hallucination. but it wasn’t. you slowly turned around, and there he was.

matt sturniolo. the only man you’d ever been in love with.

he looked older, of course. his shoulders looked broader, his hair was a little messier as it fell effortlessly over his forehead. but his blue eyes—those hadn’t changed one bit. they still held the same welcoming expression and warmth you remembered, the same warmth that persuaded you to believe that you and matt could have been something more. but that wasn’t possible, not in this lifetime at least.

you lightly swallowed, your eyes darting in different directions as your breathing grew slightly quicker. “matt.” you spoke, emptiness present in your tone. it felt…odd. the way you interacted with him felt nothing like when you and matt were kids, running around recklessly in his backyard. all the stupid arguments over mario kart, and so much more. nothing felt the same, and you were sure it wouldn’t ever feel the same ever again.

silence. complete silence. that was, until matt spoke. “you still drink caramel lattes?” he asked, nodding at the menu as he stepped closed to you, now standing next to you in the line. you blinked, caught off guard. “you still drink black coffee and pretend to like it?” you grinned. matt chuckled, running a hand through his hair. “yeah, some things never change i guess.” matt turned his head to look at you, giving you a somewhat smile.

but, things do change.

all you could think about was your past with matt. how you both talked every single day, how you once knew everything about each other—your fears, your dreams. the way you and matt were absolutely inseparable, everyone in both of your families knew it, and so did you. however, your lives changed. college and matt’s career drove the both of you in different directions. you and matt promised to stay in touch no matter what, but that quickly faded into distance, and silence.

“you live here again?” matt asked, shifting on his feet. you quickly nodded. “mhm, moved back here last year after i finished college, you?”

“y’know, me and my brothers are just visiting our parents for the weekend, then we’re gonna head back to LA.” matt said, glancing down at the ground as if he was unsure of what to say to you next. then, with a hesitant smile he finally spoke up. “do you maybe wanna…sit down and talk for a minute? it’d be nice to catch up.” matt asked. you hesitated. it would be easier to make an excuse, to walk away and let the past stay where it was. but, something in matt’s expression—the way his eyes softened as if he was pleading, made you nod.

the both of you ordered and collected your drinks, finding a small table by a window. and for the first time in years, you both talked, it felt genuine this time. you both talked and laughed about life, catching each other up on what had been going on with your lives for the past few years. somewhere between the occasional stolen glances and laughter, you had realized something. even though time had pulled the both of you apart, with matt smiling at you the way he used to, it didn’t feel so much like the end anymore.

after all, it felt like your friendship was just beginning again.

© delilahsturniolo do not copy, re use, or modify any of my works.

[visenyaism]

what advice would you give an about-to-be 20 year old who already has bangs

shit I think I wrote something on my mid 20s hag birthday in July but off the dome what I needed to hear at this time of my life:

-drink a Pedialyte before you go to bed drunk. do it

- you actually do have to eat vegetables and go out in the sun. daily

- if shit sucks you are legally allowed to leave. If shit really sucks put down your phone and go on a walk for an hour

- “ if they wanted to they would” can only get you so far because how many times have you wanted to and not? 

- ask for what you want directly. how else are people supposed to know

- speaking of there is pretty much nothing you can’t achieve in your life by being sufficiently annoying or good at sending emails 

- putting cheap vodka through a brita pitcher does actually work.

-if anyone tells you it’s really normal to kiss your friends with tongue go ahead and have fun however you should probably also take a second and think about what their underlying motivations might be

- unfortunately they were not lying about building credit and savings being a good idea.

-go out of your way to be kind to people. You actively have to work for it. It is not something you are something you do. 

-you should absolutely prioritize sleeping enough and eating enough, but if you don’t sleep enough, you definitely have to eat enough 

-there will come a time in the next 6 to 18 months in which you might feel like your life is falling apart and everyone hates you. This is just because you are 19 perhaps 20. The new life comes at the cost of the old one. This does not stop it from hurting like a motherfucker.

-No matter how bad shit gets in two weeks you will have different problems.

[mayajadewrites]

── .✦ Renaissance - Levi Ackerman .✦ ──

🪽 ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳ levi x fem reader

summary: levi leaves you in the underground for the scouts, only for him to find you again in marley when the war is over. however, nothing about you is the same as it once was. you are not the same person you were 12 years ago. cw: canon universe, smut, fluff, yearning ao3 authors note: there are several things in this story that are not canon to the original AOT storyline (like Levi needing a wheelchair) but I will warn you if/when those things come up.

chapter notes: bit of an angsty chapter! thank you all so much for your support and comments, it really makes me happy that you want me to continue this story. if you would like to be added to the tag list, just ask! <3

tag list: @ackerboi, @staarflowerr, @midw1nter, @glads-stuff, @nxcxllxsevens 

preface - chapter one - chapter two

CHAPTER THREE

Every part of your body wanted him. Wanted to engulf yourself in him, never letting him go again. His hands on your body felt like they belonged there, his kisses frantic as his hands run up and down your curves.

Your heart belongs to him - even 12 years later.

But your brain is screaming at you to push him away.

In today's battle, your brain won.

You push your hands on his chest a bit rougher than the last time, turning to take the cash he handed you out of your bag and giving it back to him. "I can't, Levi."

He gave you a emotionless expression, like the last few minutes didn't even happen. "You're going to refuse money like that? Good money?"

"It's not about the money, Levi!" You press your hands to your eyes, tears threatening to spill down your face. "You left me alone for 12 years! I had no one, I had to take care of myself the minute you left. But I guess it's my fault for relying so much on you."

The tension was thick in the room, silence louder than any voice could be.

You sit down on the bed, your gaze moving to the floor as a sign leaves your lips.

For the first time in years, Levi says your name with such softness that you almost don't believe it's him.

"Look at me." He moves to stand in front of you, his eyes roaming your face as if to look for some sign of softness.

When you bring your eyes to his, it takes everything in you not to completely give into him. But you have a sliver of strength left.

"Why would you even want me now? I'm... stained. Ruined."

"What makes you think that?" He moves to sit next to you on the bed, his thigh grazing against yours ever so slightly. "There's not one stain on you."

You bring your eyes to his, and it was like you were transported back in time to when you were teenagers, just trying to survive on the streets of the Underground.

"I sell my damn body for money, Levi. I'm filthy."

"Hey." He brought his left hand to your face, his index finger pressing to the underside of your chin. "That doesn't mean you're stained or dirty."

"I never wanted this." You look away from him, refusing to keep eye contact. "I had no other options."

You resented him so, so much. If he came back and told you to stop this, you would have. Without hesitation.

But this was the only thing you felt like you had control over in your life. Doing this allowed you to have a bed to sleep in and 3 meals a day.

There were nights when men would physically hurt you, and they felt that they could because they paid for it. Many mornings you woke up with a black eye, purple bruises sore on your skin with marks from the fingers of your clients. No one respects the people of the Underground, they're a subspecies to the people above.

"Please leave, Levi. You can get your services from someone else." You turn your head quickly, his hand falling from your face. "And don't come back."

You refused to look at him. You couldn't. Because the minute you did, all of the words you just said would mean nothing. You bite down on your bottom lip, the slight pain distracting you from Levi's gaze burning a hole in your skull.

He put the wad of cash back on your lap before standing up, buttoning his shirt and putting his jacket back on. But you held your ground, looking the other way - out of the window that had a perfect view of the full moon.

You could have sworn it looked exactly the way you did the night Levi left.

Tonight, he left again.

Weeks passed. Days of avoiding the street that Levi's tea shop is on.

But this morning, you woke up earlier than usual and decided to walk around the streets, enjoying the silence.

You see balloons at the front door of his shop, a sign saying "OPEN" that's almost to your hip as you walk by.

It looks different from the last time you were here. Granted, it wasn't technically open yet, but within weeks Levi really put this place together.

Through the windows, which were so clean you almost couldn't decipher if they were actually there or not, you saw gray painted walls, with plants comfortably decorating the space. Some small tables occupy the space, and then you see him. His back is to the window, the muscles of his shoulders flexing as he wipes down the tables.

Your breath hitches as you watch him, knowing he has a crease between his brows as he cleans the surfaces. He always was so meticulous when it came to cleaning that he would spend hours making sure any space he was occupying was spotless.

He's always wanted this. Always.

Levi used to tell you about how he wants to open a tea shop one day, and that he used to talk to his mom about it before she passed away.

"We used to always have tea together in the morning." He would say with a soft smile on his face. "I was the only kid in the brothel, so the other women would pinch my cheeks and tell me how handsome I am. Our tea time in the morning was what I woke up for."

"I'm sure she's so proud of you Levi. Even now." Your voice was quieter than usual as you look in his eyes, gently pressing your hand to his knee as you both sit against a brick wall, the night sky enveloping you both.

When he looked at you, he saw his entire world in front of him.

And that was the first time he kissed you.

You look above the door of the shop, noticing the small sign with the name of the shop.

Kuchel's.

A single tear rolled down your cheek before Levi opened the door to his shop. When his eyes found yours, you notice his gaze was softer than it had been the last time you were there.

You and Levi often communicated without words, only your eyes.

His eyes were begging you to come in.

[vettelsvee]

THE CALL OF LOVE | Sebastian Vettel

Primary School Teacher!Sebastian Vettel x Primary School Teacher!Reader ↳ Teacher AU ⋆ Part of CLASSROOM GOSSIPS

SUMMARY: Seb is the cool, annoying, extroverted teacher, while you are the shy, introverted and perfectionist one. Seb phones you all the time because he wants to get closer with you somehow but, also, he knows that you suffer from pretty bad anxiety and wants to respect your boundaries. However, when you have to go to Seb's class and ask him for help after your classroom becomes pure chaos, he finds the perfect opportunity to become closer with you... only to find out that, definitely, you want to get closer with him as well even your anxiety says otherwise ↳ BASED ON THIS POST I MADE TODAY!

WORD COUNT: 4798

WARNINGS: Mentions of anxiety, curse words. Lots of fluff (I loved this Seb btw).

TAGLIST: @koalapastries @blushmimi @herdetectivetheorist @awnmaneez

VEE'S NOTES: Third Teacher!Seb fic in a row since you asked! Hope you liked it as much as I loved writing it! Thank you for all the love you're giving to this, really, I'm so grateful <3 ↳ TALK TO ME / REQUESTS! | FORMULA 1 MASTERLIST

© VETTELSVEE (2025). please, do not steal, copy or translate my works. thanks for reading!

Although it wasn’t enough for many, you were more than happy being a teacher at one of the most well-known schools in Heppenheim, a small town in Germany. 

Now that you had achieved your dream, all you wanted was things to flow perfectly. The main problem? Your anxiety and constant need for perfection, which were the most notable things about you. On top of that, there was the strict routine that was almost impossible to deviate from. However, the real problem lay in everything related to socializing... not with your students or their parents, but with the rest of the teachers.

Sebastian Vettel, the teacher of the other 2nd grade class, had also started working there that same year. Although you initially thought your relationship would be a calm one, the reality was far from that. Seb was the complete opposite of you: a walking chaos, with more than enough confidence and a charm that made him some kind of superhero to his students.

You tried your best to keep a professional relationship with him, but it was impossible. When you wanted to do a project on biodiversity with perfectly structured activities aligned with the curriculum, Seb preferred to take them outside to let them see it for themselves. If you thought it would be a great idea for them to write a small essay about Christmas, Seb preferred to show them a movie because, in his words, “they would have time to write when they’re older.”

And if that wasn’t enough, Sebastian had the annoying habit of calling your classroom phone several times a day with ridiculous questions:

“Miss Y/L/N speaking,” you answered as calmly as you could, while still supervising your students coloring.

“Y/N!” Sebastian shouted from the other end of the line. “Hey, quick question... Do our students need permission from their parents to go out?”

“To go out? Do you mean… recess?” you frowned.

“Of course!”

“No, Sebastian, the kids don’t need permission to go out during break. It's mandatory,” you added with a hint of sarcasm.

“Great, thanks! By the way, did you know the hold music is super cute? I thought you'd want to know since it's as cute as you and…”

You hung up before he could continue.

The next day, the same thing: Sebastian called just to ask whether necessary needed one "c" or two. The day after, it was to ask whether the coffee in the teacher's lounge was free.

It was never anything serious. There was never an emergency or anything like that. It was simply Sebastian Vettel asking you the most stupid things, things he already knew perfectly well. Despite that, you forced yourself to answer the phone, trying to calm your anxiety while giving him a quick, convincing response to get him off the line, before hanging up.

You knew you could ignore him, but deep down, this strange routine had become your favorite part of the day.

And, unbeknownst to you, for Sebastian, it had too.

Seb knew exactly how you felt about him; about any interaction with your colleagues, in fact. He was fully aware that you were a little scared of speaking in public. He could tell by moments like when you nervously played with a pink pen with butterflies every time you had to speak during staff meetings, or when during the Christmas play, just before going on stage with him and your students, you excused yourself by saying you were about to vomit... something that wasn’t entirely an excuse.

To him, you were the brightest person he had ever met. The way you taught, how you cared for your students, how he noticed you watching him when you thought he wasn’t paying attention... Seb knew that being this persistent could have the opposite effect on you, but as much as he wanted to take a step forward and maybe become a friend, he didn’t want to make you uncomfortable or pressure you into anything you didn’t want.

So, Sebastian decided to stop calling you.

You were puzzled when the phone didn’t ring. At first, you considered it a good thing, but as the hours went by, you realized something was missing.

The day felt endless, something that rarely happened to you. The same went for your mood, which had plummeted. And as if that weren’t enough, the art class turned into an absolute disaster, and you didn’t know how to manage it, no matter how hard you tried to calm your anxiety and think of alternatives to wrap it up as soon as possible.

Your students only needed a few minutes working on their own, making animals out of paper-mâché, while you corrected math tests, to turn the class into a total mess. There were strips of paper everywhere. The younger kids had glue all over their hands, leaving trails everywhere. One of the blue paint cans had even fallen to the floor, spreading quickly.

To make matters worse, when you tried calling Sebastian to see if he could bring you a mop, the phone decided to stop working.

You sighed and looked at the door separating your classroom from his, realizing that you had no choice but to admit to yourself that, as hard as it was to ask, you needed help.

Without saying anything to your students, you took a deep breath and shyly cracked open the door.

Sebastian was sitting at his desk, gesturing dramatically with his hands while his students stared at him as he seemed to be telling them a story.

"So, there I was, in front of a goat, after losing my parents. And do you know what happened next?" he said, walking dramatically and opening his eyes wide.

“What happened, Mr. Vettel?!” the kids shouted.

“The goat ate the sandwich my mom had made me for the trip.”

The class burst into laughter.

You couldn’t help it and laughed too, stopping when the embarrassment of having to interrupt the class just to ask for help washed over you once again. You couldn’t just walk in there like it was nothing, and—

“Oh my goodness! Look, kids, we have a surprise guest!”

You paled. The 30 second graders all turned towards you at once, their faces lighting up as if they’d seen an alien.

Then, they started chanting your name and running toward you to hug you, forcing you to step inside. Sebastian hopped down from his desk and approached you, arms crossed and wearing a smile that, if you were honest with yourself, you were dying to see.

“What do I owe the pleasure, Miss Y/L/N?”

You clenched your fists, knowing there was no way around it.

“Well… I need your help, Mr. Vettel,” you admitted in a low voice.

Sebastian blinked. Although it took him completely by surprise, he didn’t say anything else. Instead, he turned to his students.

“Alright, kiddos. I need you to be really good and stay quiet for a moment while I help our favorite teacher, okay? I’m right here, so if I hear any shouting, I’ll take away your snacks and Friday’s movie tradition.”

A collective gasp spread through the class, but Sebastian didn’t have to say anything else. Immediately, all the kids went back to their seats and pulled out books to read.

To your surprise, they didn’t make another sound.

“Come on, Miss Y/L/N, lead the way.”

You followed his lead, and then it was you who invited Seb to come in. Once he stepped inside, the German had no words. Instead, his eyes started to scan the room.

“Wow…”

“Yeah, I know…” you sighed.

Sebastian slowly turned to face you, trying not to laugh. Of all the chaos, what surprised him most was that one of the kids, named Martin, had his shirt stuck to the chair, covered in glue, and three desks were completely covered in the same blue paint that was on the floor. To top it off, the stain you had seen moments ago had spread not only on the floor but also on the clothes and faces of many of your students.

That’s when you realized the worst.

A group of girls was standing, whispering to each other, around the hamster cage in the class... which was empty.

“Y/N…” Seb lowered his voice. “Tell me the hamster’s in the cage, but I don’t see it…”

“It’s somewhere in the classroom. The problem is, I don’t know where, and there’s only half an hour left before the day ends…” You admitted, feeling quite embarrassed.

“Are you telling me there’s a dwarf hamster loose around here?”

“Are you going to help me or what?” you snapped, frustrated, glaring at him. “Look, Sebastian… We don’t have much time before we have to leave, and if I don’t get the kids out at the exact time, just like they were brought in, you know the parents are going to go crazy…”

“Relax, Y/N. I got it.”

You didn’t have much idea what could be going through Sebastian’s head, let alone how he’d manage to fix this, but you tried to relax and give him a chance for everything to return to normal little by little.

To your surprise, that’s exactly what happened.

Not only did he divide the children into small groups to do simple tasks, like going to the bathroom to clean up, looking for the class hamster (which they found almost immediately, curled up beside a cabinet), or collecting the materials they’d used and putting them away, but he also took both classes to the school exit so you wouldn’t have to face desperate parents asking why their kids looked like they’d just been on a jungle expedition.

The bell marking the end of school had rung half an hour ago, and you were fully aware that most teachers had probably packed up and gone home by now. Sebastian hadn’t even appeared to tell you that his students had returned safely to their parents, and, for a reason you knew all too well, that disappointed you.

You sighed, trying to let go of those thoughts and illusions that shouldn’t matter so much. Instead, you focused on the pile of papers on your desk, the art supplies that still hadn’t been put away, and the paint that, no matter how hard you tried to clean it off the floor, seemed impossible to remove. You decided to calm down and start with something simple, like putting away the materials and picking up tiny pieces of paper from the floor.

“Do you know school’s over for today, right?”

You turned to the door. Sebastian was leaning against it, arms crossed and the sleeves of his shirt rolled up. He threw his backpack on the floor and walked over to sit next to you, helping you pick up the papers without any explanation.

“No… I didn’t hear you come in…” you confessed in surprise. And I wasn’t expecting you, you thought.

“That’s because I’m as sneaky as a ninja. The kids tell me that all the time,” he smiled, glancing at you sideways.

Seb continued his task, silent, scanning the classroom. It was no longer the disaster it had been just an hour ago. Now, the desks were perfectly grouped in fives, the class materials seemed to finally be in place, and, to your surprise, the stains had disappeared from everywhere.

“Y/N, you should go home,” Sebastian told you, standing up and helping you to do the same.

“I just need to finish cleaning up a little more…”

“Or you could not do that,” he interrupted.

You let out a small laugh for the first time that day, carefree. You were nervous and exhausted, and Seb knew that perfectly well.

“I just want to make sure everything’s perfect for tomorrow,” you admitted, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

“We managed to not kill a hamster with twenty-something kids running around and stopped the paint from getting on the walls, and you’re telling me you want to make sure everything’s perfect for tomorrow?”

“Well… yes,” you answered, looking down and biting your lip.

“That’s pretty adorable, honestly,” Sebastian said. Realizing what he’d just said, and that it might make you uncomfortable, he corrected himself. “I mean, as in your passion for teaching and everything…”

Stop fooling yourself and be honest with her, Sebastian.

“Well, I wouldn’t say it’s that, but…” you tried to articulate, your cheeks completely red.

“Well, the thing is: what else can I help you with?” Sebastian asked, unable to stop smiling. The fact that you were embarrassed by something so simple seemed so cute to him that he couldn’t stop looking at you.

“Excuse me?”

“I said, what can I help you with, Y/N?” he repeated slowly.

“Well… the truth is, you don’t have to—”

“I know,” Sebastian interrupted. “But I want to help you.”

You stared at him, unable to respond. You were used to helping people, not being helped yourself, and that left you speechless.

“What’s left to do?” Vettel insisted with care, moving a little closer to you while still keeping his distance.

“If you want, you can put the exams on the desk into the folders beside them,” you finally said, giving up.

“On it, Miss Y/L/N.”

“But really, Sebastian, you don’t have to—”

“If you tell me again you don’t need help, I’ll have to punish you with no recess.”

You burst out laughing, and to Sebastian, it sounded like pure medicine. For the first time that day, you didn’t feel like a total failure.

You worked in complete silence, letting time pass as you finished organizing everything. When you were finally done, you slumped into the chair and started checking your emails, wondering if any parent had decided to make your day even worse by sending a complaint after the day you’d had. To your surprise, there was nothing. What did surprise you, though, was that Seb came in with two cups of hot chocolate and a bag of sweets that, even more surprisingly, were your favorites.

“Here you go,” he said, offering you one of the cups while placing the bag on the table. “You were so focused that I didn’t want to bother you by saying I was leaving. And, well… I also wanted to brighten your day a little.”

You thanked him with a smile and didn’t hesitate to try the chocolate, which tasted like a real victory after such a bittersweet day.

Then, you closed your computer, put it in your bag, and, to your surprise and his, turned your chair to face him.

“What’s going on?” you said, noticing that Seb was looking at you… strangely.

“Nothing. It’s just… you.”

“What do you mean by that?”

Sebastian cleared his throat, not knowing what else to say. Instead, he shook his head and set his mind on doing what he had promised himself when he started working there: to try to become friends with you.

“Tell me about Miss Y/L/N’s teaching philosophy,” he finally said.

“Excuse me?” you hesitated.

“Come on, let’s go. I know you have one. You take this job too seriously not to have some kind of ritual or something to make everything go perfectly…”

“Except for today,” you replied.

Seb didn’t say anything because he knew how much you’d keep beating yourself up. Instead, he took a chocolate from the bag he had brought, unwrapped it, and placed it beside you. You finally accepted it without complaint, but with a smile in return.

“Well… I guess I want them to feel safe,” you started to say. “I want them to know that no matter what happens, it’s okay to make mistakes or not be perfect sometimes… I want them to know that I’m here for whatever they need, and that they can be great people in the future.”

“That’s amazing, Y/N,” Seb nodded slowly, unable to take his eyes off you.

“It’s not a big deal…”

“Of course it is,” he replied. “You care a lot, don’t you?”

“More than you can imagine…” you swallowed, feeling a little vulnerable.

“I can see that perfectly, yes.”

“Really?”

“Seb nodded, playing with his mug.”

“You’re always the first one to arrive, and I’d swear the last one to leave. You do the most original activities and, at the same time, try not to die in the process, even though today was the exact opposite,” you both laughed. “You want to be perfect for them and try to give your best.”

“Is that bad?” you asked cautiously, tensing up a little.

“Not at all,” Seb answered immediately. “But sometimes I think you should stop being so hard on yourself and just go with the flow. You know... let things just happen by themselves.”

You were about to answer, but he continued:

“You’re a great teacher, Y/N. You don’t need to prove it to anyone but yourself, okay?”

Something in your chest tightened. You weren’t used to hearing things like that, especially not from your colleagues.

Or maybe you never gave yourself the chance for someone to recognize your well-done work, thinking it had never been, and would never be, enough.

You kept talking to Sebastian about a bit of everything, feeling right at home. The hours passed, and between questions about how you both ended up being teachers, what motivated you to dedicate your life to it, and how you both ended up in Heppenheim, it was already 7 PM.

You glanced at the clock and immediately stood up, quickly starting to gather your things, which made Seb alarmed.

“Is something wrong?” he asked, worried.

“I should go…” you said, grabbing your backpack and slinging it over your shoulder. “I need to catch the bus before it gets too late. It’s the last one of the day and…”

“Wait,” he interrupted you. “You take the bus home?”

“Uh... yeah?”

“This late?”

“I’ve been doing it since I moved here, so it’s nothing new.”

“And no one’s offered to take you home? Not even to share fuel expenses and stuff?”

“It’s not a big deal.”

“Of course it is,” he replied. “From now on, I’ll take you home.”

Your eyes widened, surprised.

“Sebastian, you really don’t have to…”

“I’m not going to argue with you,” he cut you off, taking your backpack, offering his hand, and leading you out of the classroom, making sure to turn off the lights before you left.

“I don’t want to be a bother…”

“Do you think you’re a bother just because I want to take you home and make sure you arrive safe?” he asked, stopping in the middle of the hallway and still looking at you. “I’d be a terrible friend if I let you go alone on the bus, especially this late with all the drunk creeps around.”

You froze. Friend.

“Come on, let’s go,” Seb spoke again. This time, noticing you were shivering, he wasn’t sure if it was from the cold or from your nervousness, so he decided to put his jacket over your shoulders. “The day you let me help you a little more, we’ll be the best team the world’s ever seen.”

You didn’t say anything else until you reached Sebastian's car. Not even when you sat inside after Seb opened the door for you and turned the heat on full blast.

“Well…” Seb broke the silence as he placed his hands on the steering wheel. “Where to, Y/L/N?”

“You want me to guide you all the way?”

“Do you expect me to guess the way?” Vettel joked. “Y/N, I’ve got balls, but none of them are crystal, so…”

Embarrassed, and especially starting to overthink whether Seb would start judging you not only for your answer but for the entire day you spent together, you simply gave him the directions.

Seb, knowing you might be feeling down and, unlike the whole afternoon when you talked about everything, seeing you retreat into yourself again, started asking you a bit of everything. Why did you decide to move to Heppenheim, such a small town? What was your favorite place? Did you like your neighborhood?

You weren’t used to that flood of questions, and especially not to people showing interest in you. Since you were very young, you always felt left out, like you didn’t belong to any group...

But with Seb, it was different. It was like he actually cared about you, and you couldn’t help but feel incredibly good about it.

“I like the new neighborhood. Quite cozy and nice...”

Seb parked the car in a small free spot in front of the apartment block where you lived. Then, he turned toward you with a smile, placing his arm behind your seat.

“It’s very quiet, which is great when I need to grade or when I just want to read and relax.”

“Oh, are you one of those?” Seb teased.

“One of what?”

“One of those teachers who reads all the time.”

“Seb, we’re teachers,” you were surprised to call him by his nickname so naturally, but you didn’t regret it. “Of course, I read all the time.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know, but what I mean is, do you read for fun?” he corrected himself. “Do you read those dirty books or the inspirational ones that tell you how to be the perfect teacher?”

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes as you hit him on the arm.

“I read for fun.”

“That confirms it, you do read those dirty books where they’re constantly... you know… having sex in the dirtiest ways…”

“They’re called romance novels, Seb,” you corrected him, ignoring his comment. “The last thing I read was a romantic novel, okay? With no sex in it, by the way.”

“I knew you were a hopeless romantic…”

“I don’t know why I even told you anything…” you whispered, hiding your face in your hands.

Seb wanted to reply with something more, to joke around with you, but he knew that for today, it had been enough. What mattered was that you had felt comfortable and, most of all, opened up a little more with him that day.

Silence fell between you both again, but neither of you dared to say anything else. Not even you, who had yawned a couple of times and were dying to get home and get into bed without even having dinner, made the effort to get out of the car.

You didn’t know why you were so hesitant to leave. It was easy: thank Seb, say goodnight, get out of the car, and walk into the building without waiting to see if he drove off. Instead, you decided to stay there, by his side, your hands resting on your legs, feeling safer and, above all, happier than you had in a long time.

Seb didn’t say anything either. Instead, he focused on the streetlights, growing brighter with each passing moment, while his fingers drummed on the leather steering wheel.

Finally, you were the one who decided to take the step, to both your surprise:

“Well... I felt really comfortable today,” you admitted, with a calm voice.

Seb turned toward you suddenly, surprised.

You swallowed nervously, trying not to let the anxiety consume you and, above all, trying to stop the embarrassment from taking over. 

"Well, I was thinking that... we could do this once in a while..."

Sebastian's lips curled into a smirk.

"What, reorganize a class and try not to die in the process? And not killing a hamster?"

"No, I meant...," you hesitated, then looked at him shyly. "I meant… spending time together. Outside of school."

That caught Sebastian off guard, but he couldn’t help the huge grin that spread across his face. He hadn’t expected you to say that, especially not after the chaotic day you'd both had.

"Wait..." he murmured, searching for the right words. "Are you telling me that... you want to spend time together, and not during class hours?"

You felt like you were going to die from embarrassment. Nervous and a little regretful, you weren’t going to back down though. You held your backpack tight, like some kind of protection, while fidgeting nervously in your seat.

"Well... I felt really comfortable today with you, and I thought maybe we could do it again. You know… grab a coffee, go for a walk..."

Sebastian didn't say anything. He just stared at you, unable to recognize the person in front of him, yet delighted that maybe, with a little bit of help from him, you had stepped out of your comfort zone, even if you didn’t seem entirely comfortable.

"Forget what I just said..." you mumbled.

You bit your lip, lowering your gaze, unable to look at him in the face. Sebastian, however, couldn’t have been happier in that moment.

"Not a chance. I like your idea. Actually, I’m more than happy with it."

His voice was calmer now, which gave you the courage to look at him. His blue eyes, which normally made you nervous and stole your words, now made you feel the same, but for an entirely different reason. You felt pressure in your chest, but this time it was nothing like the anxiety or fear of being judged and rejected.

"Hey," Sebastian spoke again, gently taking your chin and forcing you to meet his gaze. "Since, from what I’ve just heard, you don't mind spending time with me..."

"Seb, please, don’t ruin this moment..."

You narrowed your eyes, instinctively leaning toward his lips, and Sebastian didn’t hesitate to close the distance, pressing his lips to yours. At first, it was soft, like you both were making sure that was really happening not just in your minds. When Sebastian felt you sigh against his lips, something in him clicked. His hand, still resting on your chin, slid to your cheek, caressing it tenderly, while his other hand wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer as you unbuckled your seatbelt.

You let yourself go, feeling butterflies in your stomach for the first time in a long time, not because you wanted to disappear, but because you felt more alive than ever.

When you finally pulled apart, Sebastian rested his forehead against yours, eyes still closed.

"Tell me this isn’t a mistake, Seb..." you whispered, still confused about what just happened.

"If it is, I hope you, Miss Perfection, don’t mind."

You laughed nervously, filled with emotions and confusion, but mostly happiness.

"So... what now?" you asked, breathless.

"I love the idea of kissing you in my car like a couple of teenagers, but I think it’s getting too late and we have to get up early tomorrow. So, I have an idea."

You rolled your eyes, unable to stop smiling.

"I’ll pick you up tomorrow morning. How does that sound?"

"What?"

"Tomorrow's Thursday, Y/N. We have to go to class," Sebastian explained, as if you didn’t already know what he meant. "If I pick you up, you won’t have to wake up extra early to catch the bus."

Your heart skipped a beat. Yes, it was a simple offer, nothing extraordinary, but to you, it felt like more... like Sebastian wanted something more with you.

Like you mattered to Sebastian Vettel.

Seb saw the hesitation, the doubt in your eyes. He leaned in gently, and after placing a short but tender kiss on your lips, he spoke again.

"I know I don’t have to do this, but I want to," he assured you.

You swallowed hard.

Sebastian was serious. It wasn’t some bad joke like many other guys had made in the past. He really meant it.

"Okay," was all you could say.

Sebastian’s smile lit up his face.

"Great, princess. I’ll see you at seven-thirty here tomorrow. And I know it’s not necessary, but I have to remind you: please, don’t you dare being late."

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes as you opened the car door and stepped out, a smile forming on your lips like never before.

Then, you hesitated at the door, but you were ready to, for once in your life, stop trying to be so perfect.

"Goodnight, Seb," you said softly. "And... Thank you. For everything."

"Sleep well, best teacher in the whole world."

You walked toward your building, and when you were inside, you turned around to see if Sebastian had left. To your surprise, he was still there, making sure you had entered safely.

You both waved to each other, and as you climbed the stairs to the fifth floor, you realized that, for the first time, the anxiety about tomorrow wasn’t paralyzing you. 

Instead, it was tomorrow, alongside Sebastian Vettel, what were making you feel alive.

[bestanimal]

Round 3 - Chondrichthyes - Hexanchiformes

(Sources - 1, 2, 3, 4)

The Hexanchiformes are a primitive order of sharks, of which only 7 species in 2 families remain. These families are the Hexanchidae (“cow sharks”, also called “sixgill sharks” or “sevengill sharks”) and Chlamydoselachidae (“frilled sharks”).

Hexanchiformes have one small, spineless dorsal fin located over or behind the pelvic fins and one anal fin. Their cartilaginous vertebral column extends into the long dorsal lobe of the caudal fin, while the ventral lobe of the caudal fin is either small or absent. They have either six or seven gill slits, a large mouth, and small spiracles located well above and behind the eyes. The eyes have no nictitating membrane. Hexanchiformes are most common near the ocean floor in cold, deep water in the tropics, but are also found closer to the shore in more temperate regions. Many of these sharks exhibit vertical migration, following prey closer to the surface at night, and submerging back to the depths during the day. Hexanchiformes are ovoviviparous and feed on yolk within their mother. They have litters of varying size, ranging from 2 to 108 pups, depending on species.

The Hexanchiformes date back to the Early Jurassic, with some evidence of even earlier existence in the Permian. Fossil Hexanchid teeth have been found dating back as early as the Late Jurassic, and Triassic sharks appear very similar to modern Hexanchids. However, while the Chlamydoselachidae (frilled sharks) look ancient, they arose in the Late Cretaceous with most other modern shark families.

Propaganda under the cut:

The Sharpnose Sevengill Shark (Heptranchias perlo) and the Broadnose Sevengill Shark (Notorynchus cepedianus) are the only species of sharks to have seven gill slits.

Some Bluntnose Sixgill Sharks (Hexanchus griseus) recieved a unique spotlight when they began repeatedly bumping into the submarine of the Blue Planet II film crew, thinking the crew was after their whale carcass.

The Broadnose Sevengill Shark (Notorynchus cepedianus) (image 1) is the only shark in this order known to pose any threat to humans, due to their habitat being in proximity to humans and propensity for retaliating when provoked. Human remains have been found in one specimen's stomach, though these were likely deceased, drowned individuals, as this species has a reputation for feeding on anything it can fit in its mouth. In 2020 a 13 year old girl was bitten while surfing at Oreti Beach in New Zealand. The girl continued to surf for an hour before realizing her leg was bleeding.

Unlike its relatives which will often scavenge carrion and feed on whale falls, the Atlantic Sixgill Shark (Hexanchus vitulus) is known to be much more picky. It will not feed on prey after it has been dead for 24 hours, instead ignoring older prey to move on to its next kill.

Nothing could really hurt you in the freediving sim “Endless Ocean” (in the first game anyway) but I still got really freaked out when I had to dive down in the trenches. So whenever I had to do some deep-deep-diving, I would immediately go and find a frilled shark to befriend, because if you fed them enough they would follow you around. Having a smiley little buddy by my side always made me feel much calmer in that area, so frilled sharks still give me that little boost of seratonin just by association. They were there for me even when my stupid Risso’s Dolphin was effin off to go harass a squid or whatever.

While the two species of frilled shark that are alive today are relatively small, the larger of the two being the 2.0 m (6.6 ft) long Frilled Shark (Chlamydoselachus anguineus), some extinct species could get to be very large. The Late Cretaceous Rolfodon goliath was likely the largest, reaching an estimated 5-6 meters (19 ft 8in) long.

Meanwhile, the Southern African Frilled Shark (Chlamydoselachus africana) is much smaller, with the largest known female being the immature 117 cm (3.8 ft) long holotype, and the largest known male measuring 99 cm (3.2 ft) long.

They go like :o

Some Hexanchiform eyes fluoresce green (when the shark is alive)

(source)

[userseventeen]

✨ WELCOME TO the 2025 caratblr revival!

let’s bring some life back to caratblr! this year's carat revival is a six week event— with prompts for each week— where we'll be celebrating seventeen in all their chaotic glory. all creators are welcome to participate in this event: gifmakers, gfx artists, writers, and anyone with a creative streak <3

ℹ️ INFORMATION

this event begins saturday, february 8th at 12:00 AM EST, with prompt one. the posting period for each subsequent prompt will fall exactly one week later, on the next saturday.

you are free to interpret the theme for each week as you please! you can also create as many posts per each prompt as you would like.

all posts must be entirely sfw.

caption your post or posts with '2025 carat revival: (prompt)' and tag them with #caratrevival2025 so we can keep track of your creations!

reblog this post so the word can reach other carats <3

you do not have to post a prompt for every week. you can also go back and complete other weeks if you get a late start!

if you have any questions, you can send an ask either to this blog or to @96z !

🪄 PROMPTS

week one: bias week (feb 8-14) this week is all about your biases. you can highlight their best moments, dive into what makes them special, or just express how much you love them.

week two: dynamics week (feb 15-21) seventeen is built on their relationships with each other, so here is your time to showcase their dynamics! this can be anything from duos and trios to the group's overall relationship.

week three: seventeen as… week (feb 22-28) this week is all about concepts. interpret "seventeen as…" however you like. this can be as movie tropes, music genres, memes, colors or aesthetics, tv shows, bands... literally anything.

week four: evolution/growth week (mar 1-7) this week is to appreciate how far seventeen has come, whether as a group or individually. you showcase a member’s growth over the years, compare early seventeen to present seventeen, however you prefer to showcase their growth.

week five: carat culture week (mar 8-14) this week, it’s all about us carats and the unique fandom culture we’ve built. celebrate this week by highlighting the little things that make being a carat so enjoyable; this can be by compiling some of the inside jokes/memes, or iconic moments... whatever speaks to you!

week six: seventeen hours of seventeen (mar 15-22) to wrap things up, let’s take a trip down memory lane. you can: make something inspired by the exact moment you became a carat, show your favorite moments, reflect on why seventeen has had an impact on you, etc.

i hope to see you all on the dash soon! happy posting 💎

[heaven4lostgirls]

prompt: swim || @moonwater-microfic || word count: 598

✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿

“you’re going to have to get in at some point” remus points out as he wades through the shallow waves that bump softly against his hips.

regulus stands on the dry shore of the lake, clad in short black swim trunks that have remus thinking of the many sinful things he could be doing to his lovely boyfriend instead of this.

“i don’t want to” regulus says, crossing his arms.

remus trails his eyes from the basically nonexistent shorts, up pale skin towards regulus’ stormy gaze.

“well you don’t have a choice, you’re going to have to learn to swim one way or another” remus says with what he hopes is a comforting smile.

he’s been trying to get regulus into the water for the past half hour, hoping to teach the younger boy to swim before their end of year vacation to the coast.

james and sirius had planned it, and whilst they were aware that sirius did not know how to swim, he usually preferred tanning (read: burning) on the shore.

whilst regulus stayed awfully quiet about his lack of skill within bodies of water, thus bringing them to their current predicament.

remus refuses to let regulus go on the trip without at least teaching him to float.

regulus however, is as stubborn as they come and refuses help.

“i’m not letting you get in that car next week unless you get into the water love” remus calls back and he watches as regulus’ expression settles into a scathing glare.

remus would have been worried if he didn’t know regulus as well as he knew the back of his hand.

he knows he’s scared, terrified for a reason that remus can’t seem to fathom.

“i’m coming out” remus says and he watches as regulus’ form tenses as remus wades back in to make the short walk towards the smaller boy.

“don’t make me” regulus whispers as remus comes to a stop in front of the younger boy.

“i would never” remus quickly promises, “but you do know i won’t apologize for caring , i’m not letting you go to the coast where your idiot of a brother will dare you to get into the water when you don’t know how to swim” remus says sternly.

“you’d save me though!” regulus says petulantly and remus huffs a sigh.

“that’s not the point, and you know it” he argues and regulus’ form goes slack all at once as he leans against the scarred boy.

“i’m scared of drowning” he mumbles into remus’ chest as the sandy-haired boy wraps his arms around pale skin, thoughtfully rubbing calming circles onto sun warmed skin.

“nothing is going to happen to you as long as i’m there” remus whispers back as he places a small kiss onto regulus’ temple.

regulus only hums, “i have dreams…of drowning.”

remus frowns, “you mean your nightmares?”

he feels dark curls tickle his chest as regulus nods without saying anything.

“we don’t have to do this today, we can still go to the coast, as long as you promise you won’t let your stubbornness put your safety at risk” remus says, achingly affectionate as he tugs regulus’ face out of his chest.

regulus scrunches his nose, “no, it’s nice outside. i just wanted you to know i wasn’t trying to be a brat”

remus’ lips tip up to the side, “you’re always a brat, i just know you better than you think i do”

they share a small smile as regulus lets remus lead him slowly towards the edge of the shoreline.

[imsogonesposts]

May I Have This Dance?

|| ao3 || finnick masterlist || requests are open!! ||

summary: Finnick and you slow dance at a Capitol party (wc: 949)

The ballroom was filled to the brim with Capitol citizens, past Victors, and current mentors of the Hunger Games to “celebrate” the end of yet another Hunger Games. And as a past victor, it was highly requested (required) that you attend, as you did every year since you won your games. As you glanced around the room, avoiding the gazes of the Capitol citizens, your eyes met an all too familiar set of blue ones that crinkled with a smile as his gaze met yours. It seemed he was trying to do the same thing, avoiding the burning eyes of the Capitol citizens. 

You weren’t too surprised when he began making his way towards you. The two of you had been neighbors back in District 4 until he moved into his current home at the Victor’s Village after surviving his Hunger Games. Only to later become neighbors once more after you moved into the house directly next to his after surviving your own games years later. 

“Finnick,” you greet with a smile, one he happily reciprocates as he mutters your own name. 

“Are you enjoying yourself tonight?” He asked, hands in pockets as he glanced around the room. It was too fancy. There are too many lights, too much fancy food that would undoubtedly go to waste, and too many people you would rather not be in the presence of. Though, you never minded Finnick’s. Something about his presence made everything feel almost calmer, almost like the waves of an ocean softly hitting the rocks across the shore. 

“I’ve been better,” You replied with a shrug. “Are you enjoying yourself?” You asked as he shrugged back. 

“Oh of course,” he stated with a false smile. “Don’t you know, I live for these things?” He said, nudging your shoulder slightly. 

The two of you had made it obvious to each other before that neither of you particularly enjoyed the many extravagant events President Snow required you both to attend. You’d much rather be in the comfort of one of your own homes, wrapped in a blanket, sitting near the fireplace as you shared secrets and stories in the dark. 

“Silly me, how could I forget?” You ask with a laugh as he rolled his eyes once more. He raised his eyebrows at you, smiling as the music filling the ballroom changed to a slower song. 

“May I have the pleasure of asking the lady to dance?” Finnick asked in an overly fancy tone, a hand outstretched towards you as he took an unnecessary bow.

“I don’t know how to dance,” you replied, placing a hand over your mouth to stifle your laughter at his dramatics. 

“Everyone knows how to dance,” he simply replied, waving his fingers in the air, hand still outstretched. If you had told him no again, he would’ve instantly dropped the subject, but first, he wanted to ensure you weren’t saying no because of such a silly thing as “not knowing how to dance.”

He smiled as you finally took his hand, lightly squeezing it before leading you to the dance floor. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” he heard you joke, causing a small laugh to escape him. 

“Everyone knows how to dance,” he repeats with a smile, turning to face you with yet another bow. 

“You’re not a prince,” you joked as he raised himself, placing a hand on your lower back and raising your joint hands. 

“Says the one that looks like a princess,” he teased with a wink before slowly moving the two of you across the floor. “See?” He whispered, “you’re a natural.”

“Natural” was a strong, generous, word as you had already stepped on his feet a couple of times, but he took it in stride, ever the gentleman. You graciously took the compliment, however, thankful for his kind words. 

He raised his hand, twirling you before placing his hand back at your lower back as you returned to him, this time with much less space between the two of you. “Are you busy this weekend?” He quietly asked as your hands found their previous resting place, back onto his shoulder. 

You shook your head no. “I have to go to the market, but that’s about it. Why?”

His hand that was holding yours tightened slightly as a small smile took over his face. “Because,” he whispered, “I was wondering if you would like to do something. With me. As in, a date.”

You couldn’t help but laugh as he furrowed his brows at his own words. You could practically see the gears turning in his head as he thought over his words once again. 

“You’re asking me on a date?” You questioned as he nodded, the crease in between his eyebrows softening slightly. 

“That I am,” he replied, twirling you once more so he could let out a deep breath. He hadn’t expected to feel nervous asking you on a date, and yet here he was, overthinking every word that left his mouth in order to decide if it was stupid or not. If he should have asked another way. 

You smiled as you faced him again, your hand on his shoulder, his on your lower back. He could slowly feel some of the nerves melt away as he saw your smile. 

“I’d love to go on a date with you, Finnick,” you told him, laughing as he let out another deep breath. 

“Does Saturday work for you?” He asked quietly, a smile taking over his entire face.

You nodded as his thumb began lightly rubbing on the back of the hand holding his. 

“I’ll pick you up then,” he replied, smiling as you kissed his cheek. 

“It’s a date.”

[oh-no-my-hand-slipped]

We know noseguard trapdoors exist But what about Noseguard Chests, and Noseguard Wardrobes(Especially a Noseguard Wardrobe for, say... a maid?)

If you can fashion a lock for something, you can have a NoseGuard! Boxes, chests, luggage, even diaries! Usually, the limits don’t involve the what, but the where. Depending on what a NoseGuard is made of, it is sensitive to many things. Imagine it in cold climates, on a dusty shelf, buried.

One of the greatest adversaries of NoseGuards is dust…which you will soon see.

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

This room had obviously not been used in years — much like the rest of the manor. How could a once such prosperous, wealthy household, Estella wondered, fall into such disrepair?

Well, no matter. If she had anything to do with it, this study would soon be sparkling from the edge of the chandelier to the corners of its plush red carpet.

But first, she needed supplies. Her master had told her something about a maid’s closet in this room, but with all of the old and broken furnishings filling every inch, Estella knew it would be some time before she found was she was looking for.

Or so she thought.

“Ooooooh…”

Estella jumped. The groaning only got louder, growing more pained with every breath. Was it a lonely spirit? A mischievous ghost? One of the errand boys playing a trick?

She held her feather duster in front of her, brandishing it like a deadly weapon.

“Show yourself!” she said, hoping she sounded just as brave as the guards. “What are you doing in my master’s house?”

There was no reply other than a few moans, punctuated by thick sniffles.

Estella lowered her duster. This wasn’t someone playing a trick — this was someone who needed help.

“Are you alright?” she called, craning her neck over the mountain of velvet and polished oak. “I don’t mean to harm you,” she added, kindly.

After a few moments, a muffled, sniveling voice shuddered from nearby.

“Oh, thangk heavens…snf!…please, this rug is ever s-hoh-! So very d-duhsty-!”

Estella looked around the room, her eyes soon falling on a, in her opinion, quite ugly rug. The green wool was decorated with brown diamonds, each surrounded by a pattern of yellow vines. In other words, it looked more like a rotten garden than anything Estella would have pleasure in cleaning.

She grabbed both sides of the rug, using all her strength to heave the thing aside. As it piled on a floor next to her, a cloud of dust rose around her. She coughed, fanning the plume from her face.

“Oh, at last! To be free frob that horrid prison!”

Estella jumped again. The voice was right in front of her, but she saw no one. All there was under the rug was an old wardrobe, decorated with simple iron edges.

However, she did notice one strange thing — instead of a knob or a lock, a large iron nose sat in the middle of the door. As Estella took a closer look, she saw a ring of rust surrounding its nostrils, as well as the remains of a rodent’s straw nest stuffed into them.

Hold on, was it…? Did Estella just see the nostrils quiver?

Suddenly, the iron nose sniffled, bits of straw falling onto the floor. Estella stumbled back in surprise, falling onto a nearby fainting couch. Another cloud of dust rose up between them.

“Oh, pardon mbe!” the nose said, bridge wrinkling. “I didn’d bean to…t-to…”

The dust was swirling around the nose, and it began to snort and snuffle.

“Th-Thad blasted d-d-duh-! Huh-!”

The nose hitched, its nostrils flaring, its septum trembling, until…

“Hoooh dear…”

The nose’s nostrils drooped, causing more straw to flutter from them. Estella got to her feet, approaching the nose sideways, leaning away.

“B-Blessings?” she stammered.

“Blessings have ndo place before a sdeeze,” the nose said, sniffing. “Ooh, I haven’d had a good sdeeze in years. Not that adyone has required mby contents…”

Estella squinted.

“Must someone make you sneeze in order to open the door?”

“By master’s orders, yes, to be sure ndo rapscallion steals the rags for handkerchiefs and the like.”

The nose sighed.

“Bud I’ve been stuffed so full of dust and straw thad there is simply ndo room for a sdeeze.”

Estella smiled, patting the side of the wardrobe.

“Well, you are among good company, Master Nose!”

She lifted the corner of her apron.

“I’ll have you and this room as clear as a dead man’s debts!”

She began rubbing the inside of the nose’s nostrils with her apron, tugging out the tightly packed debris.

“Ohoh-! Do be cahah-!”

Estella felt its nostrils flare against her fingers, even though she was as gentle as she could be. The nose sniffled and snorted and sighed and gasped, only breathing “a b-bid to the left” or “r-right!” between them.

Estella was polishing the outside of the nose’s nostrils when the felt the whole wardrobe shudder, and the door seemed to bend with every sharp hitch the nose choked out.

“I d-do - hiiiih-! - th-think I…st-stand bahahaHAAAAAH-!”

Estella hurried behind the fainting couch. The nose’s door seemed almost ready to shake of its hinges as the nose bent upwards, showing its massive (but clear) nostrils.

“HAKSH’SHIEEEHIIIIIIIEW!”

A fine yellow spray misted the air above Estella, giving the air a metallic smell. The wardrobe door flung open with a rusty squeal. The nose lost no time in making up for the dismal dustiness it endured, and continued to sneeze for quite some time afterward.

“Snnnnnf - oh, by the gods,” the nose said as Estella finally revealed herself again.

“Bless-ings,” Estella said. She began looking inside the wardrobe for her cleaning supplies.

“Oh, no, my dear, blessings to you. I haven’t sneezed so well since my smiting!”

“Well, you’ll have plenty more to sneeze after soon,” Estella chuckled, bringing out a glass bottle of freshening water.

She sniffed it, and her own nose wrinkled. Her eyelids fluttered, and she pitched forward into the wardrobe.

“hhhp’tcHIEW! TSHIEW! TSHHHHIEW!”

“Blessings for a magnificent sneeze!” the nose cried.

Estella sniffled. “I…my pleasure?”

The nose hummed.

“I’m sure anyone would be quick to free your lock, with a sneeze like that!”

Estella laughed, closing the wardrobe door again.

“A strange compliment to be sure, but one I have no qualms with, Mr. Nose.”

[howlingday]

JAUNE

"Frère Jaune~! Frère Jaune~! Dormez-vous~?"

"Fermez-la!" Jaune shouted at his older sister.

"Aw~!" Saphron cooed. "Is it time for my baby brother's nap already?"

"I'm not a baby!" He huffed, stamping his foot. What was supposed to be a fun day of playing in the forest became another mean game for Saph to play on her only brother. She knew he hated that song, mostly because she sang it specifically to him. But when has an older sister ever listened to her younger brother?

"I found you, so now you have to go hide."

"That's not fair!" Jaune huffed.

"Life's not fair, baby brother~." She pinched his cheek, reeling in her hand as he swatted it away. "Now, turn around and let me go hide. No peeking."

With that, Saphron walked away, leaving Jaune to turn around and count to 100. How one counts that high was usually up to the person counting, and he learned a neat, little shortcut that cut his counting by five. Fives, to be exact.

"Five, ten, fifteen, twenty, twenty-five..." The only son of the Arc family couldn't help but smirk as he cheated. Saphron was probably still looking for a place to hide while he was already halfway through his handicap. She might be upset, but Jaune figured it was fitting payback for her own cheating earlier. "...ninety-five, one hundred! Ready or not, here I come~!"

Jaune turned around, walking the same direction Saph did. Knowing her, she probably just went straight ahead and turned somewhere. However, as he made his way through the woods, something felt wrong about their game. It wasn't a wrong gut feeling like you just cheesed your way into a win without earning it. No, this was a wrong feeling like everything was too quiet and the air was suddenly a lot heavier than it should have been. Even for a forest of bare trees on the cusp between winter and spring, it was as silent as the grave.

That's when Jaune found the footprint. It was big, many times the size of his hand, possibly even bigger than his arm, and it ended in four, sharp points. A Beowolf; a Grimm not normally found near Jaune's family home, thanks to the efforts of Huntsmen like his father and others, but here now all the same. He turned to home, ready to run and scream for his father to protect him, but he was stopped by a bit of string under his shoe, soaked in mud.

Saph's necklace. She said she got it from a girl in her class, a close friend of hers. She also said she would never take it off so long as she lived. Girls made weird promises like that, but that wasn't important. What was important was that there was no Saphron Arc to accompany this necklace, and the thought of that filled Jaune's belly with ice. Heavy ice.

He picked up the string and looked to where the Grimm footprints led to. He could run back to the house. It wasn't far, and his father could come out to save his sister without much effort, unlike Jaune, who was only just a boy. What could he do, anyways; he wasn't even ten years old, and he thought he could be a hero? Like the ones in his stories?

Still, Jaune pressed further through the trees, deeper into the trail of the beast, hoping there was some chance he could somehow save his sister. His pacing only quickened when he heard her cry out from beyond the ridge. Approaching the lip, he saw the black beast below, snapping into the roots of a tree that Jaune's older sister sought refuge under. It was huge, massive even. It was much bigger than the stories his father told him. He took a step back.

'Will you run?'

Should he run? He's already made it this deep into the woods. Going any further would be certain death. But to leave Saphron, who was sobbing and kicking to keep as far away from the monster as she could, would also mean certain death, but this instance would be hers. Could he live with that sacrifice?

No.

'Will you fight?'

Could he fight? Jaune found a large stick next to his foot. He picked it up and noted its weight. He could swing it, though he doubted it would do anything. If nothing else, it would serve as a distraction for his sister to escape. Still, there was that chance, that hope beyond hope that he could kill it with this stick. Slowly, the stick looked less like sturdy kindling and more like a sword. A sword fit for a hero. But reality is, was, and always be cruel, and despite whatever fantasies a boy may have, a stick is still just a stick.

But I still have to try.

'Why?'

Jaune was about to throw himself into an unwinnable fight against a creature his father had to train to fight. He had zero training, zero skill, and stood a better chance of surviving fleeing and getting his father. If he jumped down there, Saph might live, and that was a strong might if the Grimm wasn't finished with Jaune first. Should Jaune simply run and hope for the best, or risk everything in his young life to save his mean, older sister? What would be the point of doing that?

As Saph screamed and wailed, Jaune gripped the shoelace in his fist ever tighter, and he found his reason as he jumped from the cliff and onto the Grimm's back.

The beast thrashed its head around as its bony head smashed against the roots of the tree. Jaune clung to the hairs of its back, slapping his "sword" against the side of the massive monster. Finally, it rent itself free from its wooden prison, flailing more wildly as Jaune continued to hang on for his dear life. It rolled across the ground, suffocating and crushing Jaune into the soaking ground of mud and rock. He let go, and found the creature glaring down at him.

Time slowed down for Jaune Arc. Everything moved like the air itself was made of very thick maple syrup. The Beowolf, with its maw so wide, drew closer to its newest victim. Behind him, Jaune saw Saph screaming as she reached for her baby brother. She had the same thought he did; he was going to die here, and so would she if she stayed to watch. Even still, she couldn't stand by and let this happen.

"GO." Jaune simply said, speaking as normally as he could. Saphron's scream pierced the air as the Grimm snarled.

However, no blood would be spilled this day. Instead, where there should have been a dead boy was instead a living boy with a golden bubble around him. The Grimm snapped and dug its claws into the protective barrier but found neither purchase nor score to have been made in its attempt to maul the boy.

'Greetings.' A voice said inside of Jaune's head. Before he could react, the voice continued. 'I have chosen you to be my new vessel. I hope there aren't any objections.'

"Who...?" Jaune finally took his surroundings seriously. This was real! Was this his superpower? Making a protective bubble for himself? Before he could question any further, he turned to Saph, who looked on in awe of her baby brother. "Saph..."

'The Grimm is too occupied by our power.' The voice said. 'The girl will be safe so long as we are here.' Jaune breathed a sigh of relief. 'However, this cannot be guaranteed if she remains here and more Grimm arrive.'

Jaune nodded, turning to his big sister. Taking a page out of his favorite stories, he gave a confident grin before proclaiming. "Have no fear, Sir Arc is here~!"

Saphron wanted to argue that what her brother was doing was the dumbest thing he could possibly do, but now wasn't the time for arguing. She instead chose to call back. "I'm going to get dad! Don't die before he gets here!"

As she ran, it dawned on Jaune that, despite the amazing superpower he got, his life was still in danger. Suddenly, the Beowolf looked much larger and more dangerous than it was seconds ago. Could Jaune win? This bubble offered protection, but for how long, and could he still fend off the Grimm without it?

'Have faith.' The voice said. 'Though it is a mighty beast, and though you are mortal, we can win so long as you believe in yourself.'

"Who... are you?" Jaune finally asked.

'I am one of the two creators of this world.' Answered the voice. 'And I need your help to find my brother.' A claw pierced through the barrier, but did not break further than that. 'But we can discuss this later. For now, it is time to fight.'

Fight? Jaune only had experience in one kind of fighting, and that was against his sisters. This was not his sister, nor was it even human. It was a Beowolf, a creature of Grimm, and it had every advantage Jaune didn't only a few minutes ago. He wasn't a huntsman, nor was he even in training to be one. So what chance did he have in beating it?

'Do not fear, my vessel, for fear is what draws in the Grimm the most.' The voice attempted to soothe. 'Think instead of why you chose to fight instead of running away. What is at risk if you run now?'

Jaune squeezed the stick in his hand a little tighter. Saph, his big sister, almost died because of his inaction. Now wasn't the time for that; now was the time for payback. Suddenly, a golden light shined in Jaune's eyes, and where there was once a stick there was now a golden sword of light. The Grimm stabbed into the barrier once more, this time its massive claw tearing through, and found itself stuck in the barrier.

Claws that would have torn him to shreds if not for this power. Claws that would have torn his sister to shreds if he didn't show up. A fury so righteous boiled inside of Jaune before he swung his blade clean through the Grimm's talons. It reeled back with a screech, screaming in agony before making another leap at the barrier.

'I trust you, my vessel.'

The barrier fell. The beast lunged. The voice faded. And Jaune moved forward, thrusting his blade into the fanged maw of the Beowolf. His weapon struck true and pierced through the bone-white skull of the monster. It slumped forward, its heavy body crushing Jaune. Fear took hold of him, before the weight lifted and he was left coughing in a pile of fading ash.

"Jaune!" A familiar voice called out. He turned in time to see his father barreling down, brandishing the family sword, Crocea Mors, in hand. "Are you alright, son?!" He circled around his child. "Where did the Grimm run off to?!"

"I killed it, Dad." The look his father gave him was a new one. It was one of disbelief and concern.

He then noticed the ash soaked into his son's clothes, and a grin split across his face. He sheathed his blade, kneeling down. "You killed it, eh, son?" A sharp pain burned across Jaune's cheeks. "WHAT THE HELL WERE YOU THINKING, FIGHTING SOMETHING THAT BIG?! YOU KNOW WHAT WOULDA HAPPENED IF YOU DIED?!"

"SAPH WOULDA BEEN OKAY!"

"YOU DON'T KNOW THAT!" His father released his hands from his son. "For Brother's sakes, son! Your sister was probably scared out of her wits, but the Grimm probably wasn't that big!"

"Could you not say that, Dad? My friend doesn't like that."

"What? Your 'friend' has a problem with the word Grimm?" The air quotes showed that his father cared little with the voice in Jaune's head.

"No, Brothers." Jaune clarified. "He doesn't like his name being said like that without his brother." There was an even more confused look from his father.

"I think you might be concussed, son. C'mere," the large man picked up his son, "let's get you cleaned up, little hero."

"Hero?" Jaune's heart skipped a beat.

"Yeah. What else do you call someone who saves their sister's life? Even if it was a stupid thing to do, and you've probably used up all the good luck for the rest of your life, you're still a hero to me, your mom, and all your sisters. Especially Saph."

Jaune looked to the stick in his hand. He tried to will it into a sword, like before, only to instead receive a chiding message from his savior.

'There is a time and place for everything, but now isn't that time.'

Jaune gave a sigh. How disappointing. Then, he got an idea.

"Hey, dad?"

"Hm?"

"Can you train me to be a huntsman like you?"

"Mm..." His father then chuckled. "Sorry, Jaune. No can do."

"What?! Why not?!"

"There's only one huntsman like me, and that's me."

"Aw..."

"But..." Jaune felt a chill up his back. "I'll see what I can do about making you into a huntsman like you." Jaune could barely contain himself. Literally. "H-Hey! Stop shaking so much or I'm gonna drop you!"

Meanwhile, deep inside Jaune, a voice chuckled. 'This will be interesting, won't it... Brother?'

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

"Thankfully, the boy's father was able to arrive just in time to save his son, who nearly sacrificed his life for his sister. The family says that their son is now training to attend a huntsman academy when he's older."

"I guess it's not the size of the hero in the fight, but the size of the fight in the hero, huh?" The newscasters chuckled. "In other news, the infamous Huntsman Hunter has struck again. The victim was a huntress, whom our sources wish to remain anonymous out of respect for the fallen. Residents of Mistral are advised to travel in groups no smaller than three and to avoid travel at night if possible. Though the suspect remains at large, they are considered to be armed and dangerous..."

[rebelliousstories]

Roses

ValenFics

Relationship: Logan Howlett/ Wolverine x Reader

Fandom: X-Men

Request: No

Warnings: Fluff

Word Count: 1,891

Main Masterlist: Here

X-Men Masterlist: Here

Summary: There is only one person in this world that James Logan Howlett is soft for. Anyone else who finds out, very quickly learns not to blab.

Consider Donating: Here

Everyone at the school knew one thing, and they knew it well; Logan does not do holidays. At least, not in the traditional sense. He will show up for the parties occasionally, and he may even give a gift in public at Christmas. But for the most part, he liked keeping that part of his life private. And not because he did not trust anyone, but rather, that was just how he was.

With Valentine’s Day right around the corner, the school was busy putting together cards for their valentines, or simply working up the courage to ask the object of their affection. Pink, red, and white hearts littered the walls, with paper garland of the same colors on the banisters. Punny drawings were hung outside of classrooms. All in all, the whole school was in love.

“Come on, Logan. Just tell me. What are you doing for her?” Storm pleaded, following after him as he made his way to his girlfriend’s classroom. The sounds of music and singing began pouring out of the room the closer the pair got.

“And as I told you, Storm. It’s no one’s business but ours.” He protested, leaning against the wall next to the door. According to his watch, he only had another couple of minutes before she would be free for lunch.

“Yeah, but-”

“Storm, seriously. If it makes you happy,” Logan cut her off, “we’re going to have a small date night in our room.”

“Are you going to come to the Valentine’s Day party?” He groaned. If it had just been left to Wolverine, he would not be going. He would take his girlfriend on his bike, drive somewhere far away, and spend the weekend together without any distractions.

“I don’t know.” Thankfully, Logan was spared from any other questions as students began to file out of the classroom. Nodding towards the white- haired woman, he ducked inside, smiling at the kids. Kindergarten grade music was a good class to come in on as all the kids were young enough to just view Logan as a big, scary, teddy bear. They knew he was someone to fear, but that did not stop them from happily exclaiming his name as they left.

“I was wondering why there was a commotion outside my door.” She smiled, rounding her desk once she saw her boyfriend walk in.

“Thought I’d come get you for lunch.” He muttered softly, hands going to her waist, and lips going to her own.

Pulling away reluctantly after a moment, she smiled. “I could do with some food.”

During their lunch together, the couple sat in a peaceful, and comfortable silence. After so many years together, and being with each other nearly every second of every day, sometimes they just needed some silence. However, shockingly, it was Logan that broke it.

“So, Storm was asking about us going to the Valentine’s party they’re throwing.” He began hesitating, like he was unsure of how to breach the subject.

“Yeah…” her eyebrow arched at his words. “Do you want to go?”

“If you want to, I won’t stop you.” Logan replied.

“That’s not an answer, Wolvie.” She protested. “If you don’t wanna go, we don’t have to.”

There was a long period of silence after she finished. Piercing her chicken with a fork, she continued to eat while her boyfriend was pushing his own meal around. “We can go.”

Looking at him, she was hesitant to accept that answer. But Logan just kissed her forehead instead, and then got back into his sandwich.

The closer the fourteenth got, Logan began trying to think of what he wanted to get his girlfriend. He did not want to get her something perishable, but he knew that she did like flowers. What did not help was the fact that it seemed everyone and then some in this school was interested in knowing what he was going to do.

Purely from being in the kitchen at the right time, he knew that Jean was going to be getting Scott a specialty pair of his iconic red glasses. Storm was badgering him about what he was getting his girlfriend. When he finally decided on what he was going to get her, he did not tell anyone. Regardless of how much the women bugged him about it.

Which is why when Rogue found an order meant to go to Logan on the doorstep of the school after her morning jog, she was extra excited. The massive bouquet, snuggled inside of an earthenware style vase, was in her hands, and a smile was on her face as she strutted through the school. She really did try to find Logan, but that did not mean that she stumbled upon him first.

“Who’s the secret admirer, Rogue?” Jean pondered, coming up to the young girl.

“It’s not for me. A certain Wolverine got these.” She proclaimed proudly.

“Oh. Let me know how that goes.” The older woman teased, noticing that mischievous expression on her face.

Rogue continued on her merry way through the school, finally finding the big burly man that she needed to. To make everything better, he was in one of the studies with Storm and Charles, going over something that looked like intel on Magneto, but she could not be sure.

“Logan!” She called, practically floating over. Peaking above the line of the flowers, the expressions Rogue saw was priceless.

Storm was impish. Charles looked intrigued. And Logan… well, Logan was mortified.

“Where did you get those?” He hissed, storming over to snatch the bouquet from Rogue’s grasp.

“They were on the front porch. Found them after my run.” Rogue shrugged, sitting down at the unoccupied seat.

Charles, from his spot observing everything, simply chuckled. “Go put those in your room, Logan. Somewhere she won’t find them.”

Sending a glare towards Rogue, and one to Storm for good measure, Logan followed the professor’s advice and left. Thankfully, his girlfriend was not in their room when he got there, but he still snuck around. He could only hope that Rogue and Storm would keep their mouths shut about this. It was not that he cared terribly for his image, but it did help to keep up appearances.

For a couple more days, Logan checked on the flowers, hidden in his closet. And that entire time, he kept his ears open. Waiting to hear the rumors start up from the bouquet being delivered for him. Waiting for people to start calling him a sap or soft. But nothing of the sort came of it. Everyone operated normally. It did not stop him from being a little paranoid, but it never panned out. By the time that Valentine’s Day came, he had not heard anything that he could attribute as to coming from Rogue or Storm.

That morning, he had awoken extra early. With her still sleeping, Logan kissed her forehead before crawling out of their bed. Getting down into the kitchen, there were no people in there which was a blessing. All he was able to do was some simple bacon, toast, and eggs, but it was going to be enough. Grabbing a small bowl of fruit to go along with it, Logan tried to balance the food on a tray as well as a coffee for her on his way back up to their room.

When he got back in the bedroom, she was already up. Rubbing her eyes, she smiled sleepily up at her boyfriend as he came in with a tray full of goodies. “Hey, Log.”

“Hey, princess. Set your legs out straight for me, will ya?” He guided gently, watching her close. Once she set her legs out, the tray was placed on top of them and Logan came to her other side.

“Ooo, full spread. You are spoiling me.” She complimented, leaning up for a quick kiss.

“Anything for you. Eat up.” Passing her some utensils, he grabbed his own to also begin eating. Wrapping one of his arms around her shoulders, Logan enjoyed pressing kisses to her head while they ate. As much as she enjoyed kissing his scruffy jawline.

“Oh, Log, I’ve got you something.” She exclaimed happily. Pushing the food into his lap inside, she got up and went over to the dresser where she kept the majority of her clothing. Well, everything that could be folded and did not need to be hung.

As cliche as it was, she began to dig around in the sock drawer before she finally pulled something out. Plopping back down on their bed, she passed over a box to his hands. Logan, with curious eyes and a confused mind, opened the box and was even more baffled by what he found. A small figurine of something that looked like a badger.

“What is it?” He asked finally after a few moments.

“It’s a wolverine.” Her words were proud as she showed it off. The figure was no larger than a piece on a chess board, but it was still incredibly detailed.

“Thank you,” came his whisper. Logan nuzzled his nose into her cheek in acknowledgment. He was a man of few words, but he preferred actions anyways.

“Wait here.” It felt like a game of musical chairs but with the food tray. He passed it back to her, and then got up himself. Grabbing the gift that was just inside the door of his closet, underneath a flannel he used in case she needed something from inside, Logan came back.

She gasped once she saw what was in his hands. “Oh, Logan.”

Her eyes twinkled when she saw the vase and flowers. What appeared to be roses sat in a clay- type vase, but they were not normal roses. Scrunching her brows, she looked up at her boyfriend with a question behind her eyes.

“They’re resin coated. Supposed to make them last forever. They’re not supposed to wilt or decay.” Logan explained. In an instant, the food was moved to the foot of the bed, the flowers set on the floor beside them, and she launched herself into his arms.

She kept repeating her thank you’s over and over, pressing kisses to her boyfriend’s skin where ever she could. He just chuckled, letting her get her expressions out. Once she began to lose steam, he just grabbed her to kiss her lips.

“Thank you, Logan. I really appreciate these.” She repeated.

“So you’ve said. Glad you like them, princess.” Howlett whispered huskily, reaching a hand up to caress her cheek.

“I love them.”

Later in the evening, once all the classes had been finished, the Valentine’s party was in full swing. Hanging near the back, Logan had his girlfriend tucked underneath one arm, and a beer in the other hand. They had enjoyed a peaceful night, and talking to their friends. At one point in the evening, Rogue, Storm, Jean and Scott all came to hang out with the couple.

“So…” Rogue drawled, getting an impish grin, “how did she like the flowers?”

“Huh?” She questioned, looking up at her boyfriend.

“Rogue, if you told anyone-”

“I didn’t, okay!” The southerner held up her hands in defense. “But now that you’ve given them to her, can I talk about it now?”

“No.”

“Okay. Bobby, come here!” She yelled, rushing off before Logan could stop her.

[andreal831]

What languages do you think the Mikaelsons can speak?

So many.

A lot of this discussion is about to be based on headcanons. I will try to point this out every time.

They would have all grown up speaking Old Norse. The village they grew up in was very white for a land that had not been colonized by white people yet, so I have to believe it was a settlement of Norsemen. I like to think they also learned the language of the indigenous people who lived near them. This is a bit of a HC, but based on how they spoke about living at peace with them, I can see it. Either that or they forced the indigenous people to learn Old Norse, which I can also see.

Freya would have also grown up speaking Old Norse with Dahlia.

They then travel to France, where I imagine they learn French since they communicate with Lucien and the rest of the court easily. Especially since Old Norse would not have made them many friends in Europe at this time. I would also like to point out, despite them speaking English on the show, they would not have learned or even heard English at this point. Potentially they ended up in England first, since they could have been in Europe for about a year before running into Lucien, but it would make more sense for them to have ended up in Spain and traveling up since we know they end up in Southern France. So maybe they learned Spanish then too.

After this, they settle in Tuscany, so likely learned Italian. They were in Italy for a long time. I feel confident this is a language they would all remember just for how long they used it.

The show doesn't tell us where they go next, but we know they meet Aya not long after. Based on their clothes and Aya's name, I would guess they are in an Arabic country (somewhere in present day "Middle East"), so they would have learned Arabic as well.

At some point during the 1200s, Elijah, at least, ends up in the Mongolian Empire and recruits Shen Min to the Strix. This could be so many different places since the Mongolian Empire was quite expansive. They were already in the "Middle East," so they may not have fully traveled all the way to present day China, but I would think Elijah could have at least spoken to Shen Min. Whether it was Arabic, or he learned Mongol.

We also can assume Klaus and Elijah spoke a variety of languages, as they created the Sun and Moon Curse and spread it throughout cultures. Elijah mentions Klaus' Aztec drawings, meaning they at least had an understanding of the language.

Elijah goes to Greece briefly to reunite with the Strix. He is there so briefly, I wouldn't be surprised if he didn't fully learn the languages. However, he does appear to be someone who picks up on languages quickly so he may have learned a good amount while trying to track down Aya.

The Originals finally settle in England, but there is a lot of missing time we don't know about. Likely while they were traveling spreading the news about the Curse. So we don't know what languages they learned in this time. But they finally, actually, learn English. We know Klaus at least knows a little Bulgarian as he responds to Katerina in her native language. And don't forget the trip Klaus makes to kill her whole family, he likely picked up some phrases on the way. It would make sense for them to go through Bulgaria, as they were traveling from the "Middle East" to England. HC, they likely went through Serbia or Romania, Hungary, Austria, Germany, than either Belgium or the Netherlands to get to England. Likely, picking up a little of the languages on the way.

After England, the family moves to Denmark so they likely learned Danish. Or at the time it was Middle Danish, which was derived from Old East Norse. I like to think at this point (nearly 500 years since they spoke their native tongue), they were forgetting how to speak it, but they loved Denmark since it revitalized their native language for them.

Around 1500s, Klaus ends up in Russia, just to kill people it looks like, so he probably did pick up some Slavic, but I fear he did not spend a lot of time speaking with the locals. We also have no idea if the rest of the family was with him.

We can assume Klaus met Gaspar Cortez in Malaysia since he is angry at the family for burning down Belaga, Sarawak and Klaus retaliates by killing his whole family. Since Klaus was there enjoying art, I would assume he learned the language enough to get around. It likely would have been Malay at the time. From Russia, to Malaysia, they likely would have spent a lot of time using their Arabic and learning Persian from the Mughals.

In 1702, they are back in Spain, they all definitely speak Spanish fluently. I would think they took a boat to Spain and likely didn't spend extended time in any area.

They flee Spain and end up in New Orleans for 200 years. I like to think they speak French and English in New Orleans, especially Elijah with Celeste.

After that, we know Klaus and Rebekah go to Chicago (still English), but we don't know where Elijah goes. Likely, he flees America to bring Mikael as far away as possible.

Elijah and Klaus reunite in Germany, so they likely both speak it. Elijah, at least enough to get by and talk to Antoinette. I also believe Elijah at some point learned Mandarin as he tells Antoinette to go to Shanghai, it appears he has been their recently.

And of course, Elijah does speak French fluently, which is shown by his time in France in Season 5. Also, Klaus speaks it fluently as well as he spent Season 5 stalking Elijah.

To some it all up:

Elijah and Klaus are likely fluent in: Old Norse, English, French, Spanish, Italian, Arabic, Mandarin (at least Elijah is), German, Middle Danish, Malay.

Elijah and Klaus likely can speak/understand: a couple indigenous languages, Mongol, Bulgarian, Slavic, possibly Hungarian and Austrian

I also think Elijah would have learned Latin at some point for "academic" purposes, but really just to say he can speak Latin.

Rebekah likely would have learned many of the same languages as her brothers. She was often daggered or not shown in flashbacks, but I think she was there for most of the travels, learning right alongside them.

Kol likely speaks many different languages because of his fascination with magic. Even if he didn't directly travel to the places, he likely learned additional languages to read the grimoires. He was also daggered a lot, but he was also traveling on his own a lot, which just don't really know where.

We don't know where Freya and Dahlia ended up, but I think they stayed in the Netherlands for a while and likely weren't exposed to a lot of languages. It's a bit of a HC, but I would think it would be very difficult to learn a different languages every time they woke up when they only had a year.

Finn would have come out of that coffin after 900 years, speaking Old Norse, French, Italian, or maybe Spanish. Maybe Sage was English and taught him when they met, but I'm also confused when they met since he was daggered so early on.

I also believe they've forgotten more languages than they remember since they've lived so long and likely don't use them on regular basis. A lot of the languages they used while traveling, likely they don't remember. Although they could probably pick them up quickly.

This also made me think of a conversation I just had about their accents. It makes no sense for them to have British accents. From what we can tell, they only lived there for maybe 50 years, 500 years before TVD begins. Even Katherine drops her British accent.

I think Elijah's accent makes the most sense. It's not quite anything. It kind of has an old feel but it's not British, it's not American. It's a result of him learning a lot of languages and a lot of accents throughout 1000 years.

I know the writers picked British accents since in America that's how media has decided to depict anything "old." But how would Finn have a British accent?? If anything it should be Italian since they spent so much time there before he was daggered for 900 years. He's never even been to England. The rest of them spent 200 years in New Orleans, why didn't they pick up an American accent?

But, as always, I digress.

Thanks for the ask! It really made me think. Let me know if I missed any languages they would have spoken.

[kastalani123]

ToA, but the A stands for Ares

Bc I think many have questioned why Ares wasn't (noticeably) punished for helping steal the Master Bolt and Helm of Darkness. He's already the Olympian pariah of sorts, a major punishment shouldn't be out of the question.

So he spends about a year in limbo before being dumped in Manhattan as a ball of immortal rage confined in a tiny mortal body. Haven't decided whether he's in his early or late teens, but regardless, he is smol with like. Toothpicks for arms.

He does not initially intend to head to Camp. He intends to squat at some fighting ring or something until Zeus gets bored. Anything to keep others, especially his siblings, from seeing the state he's in.

However, he has no weapon and nobody is particularly intimidated by a roughed-up, dirty kid, regardless of the inferno raging in his eyes. So, off to Camp he goes, just in time for The Sea of Monsters.

He. Does not know that a mortal immortal's services have to be claimed. He would've made one of his kids do it, if he had. Instead, he gets caught off-guard and Annabeth gets him. He hates it. Not only has he lost all control over himself, but he lost it to a child of Athena, to a friend of Percy's. He has a rough time with it.

Iiiiiiii don't know how Clarisse gets her ship without Ares as a god. Maybe he can summon it without his powers because the soldiers owe a debt to him regardless of his mortality? Sure, let's go with that.

(Also! Disregarding the "abusive father" characterization of PJO Ares. If there is one thing that man loves, one thing he will never be violent against, it's his kids, fuck off, Rick. He may not be a great dad (as all gods), being too rough and overestimating his kids' capabilities and being bad at emotions/empathy, but he is never raising a single finger against his kids. Unfortunately, that doesn't mean they don't have some degree of fear about not living up to his expectations)

He goes with the trio on their secret quest because he's. Kind of tied to Annabeth, at the moment, and also because it's a chance to fight and hopefully regain the shred of his Father's favour he still had before TLT. Percy hates it and they fight constantly; Ares spends a good chunk of the quest muzzled with Annabeth's "Shut up!" commands. He's not having a good time.

Clarisse is pissed that he came because she thinks it means he doesn't trust her abilities and thinks she's weak. This is Not True but Ares really fucking sucks at communication, emotions, and relationships in general, so she stays pissed at him.

His temper gets even shorter than it already was when he, Annabeth, and Percy get separated from Clarisse because he's worried and wants to hurry up and find her. Percabeth don't realize that's why, so it ends up as a huge mess. Ares is trying to rush through everything by immediately attacking while Annabeth and Percy are actually trying to plan some things out, so he ends up being kept on a really short leash. Like, "Don't do anything but follow us" short. It's almost enough to get him to spill his worries; alas, he cannot speak.

(Honestly, that probably ends up as a huge part of the story; his arc would probably essentially be to get him to open up and help him understand and deal with his emotions, but he keeps pissing people off which makes Annabeth make him shut up so he can't talk shit out like he's supposed to. The first proper steps of his character development have to happen away from Annabeth, which means it's really convenient that she gets kidnapped in the next book!)

Anyways.

Annabeth lets up on the commands when they get to Polyphemus's Island, with the caveat that he doesn't rush into anything. He wants to absolutely decimate the Cyclops for daring to capture and think of marrying his daughter, but unfortunately, he does not have the ability to do so, even with a godly power up born of his protective rage. He absolutely vows to take care of it when he regains godhood, though, regardless of Poseidon's potential wrath. This also further cements his hatred for Poseidon's children, which is honestly very impressive because they're probably already one of the things he hates the most.

His reunion with Clarisse is. Well. It certainly is. Unfortunately, they are both allergic to admitting how worried they were. Instead, Clarisse just gruffly thanks him for his help and Ares says that no one is allowed to touch his kids (which Clarisse takes in a possessive/neg way, of him sort of taking ownership, as gods are wont to do. This doesn't get rectified for. A while). They both want a hug, inexperienced as they are with them. Neither will get it.

That's about it for SoM. It'd be more about him learning about his limits and getting a better idea of his kids' limits than proper Emotional Character Development. That'd start in TTC, kind of like how Apollo really started growing after TBM.

Ares absolutely has his own flavour of trauma; more "typical" soldier PTSD and stuff about being the hated Olympian than past lovers, tho. A good bit of his arc would probably be something about learning what healthy relationships look like, how to manage his feelings in a non-destructive way, and that he doesn't always need to be "the strong one" and should be protected sometimes too. He doesn't get the same speedrun as Apollo, since he'd be mortal for a few years (until TLO), but considering his thing is more about learning how people and relationships work while Apollo's was a bit more about his ego and actions getting checked, I think that can be justified. This man has been ignoring emotions other than rage for millennia, it'll take a bit more than six months to get him to open up.

[wheresannie]

Critical Role Campaign 3 ending spoilers

(Sorry this is long - it just came out of me 😅)

After watching the end of Bells Hells, I'm trying hard not to grieve for the lack of Callowmoore we got because although it was crumbs, it was also a mirrored or reflective story.

Fearne's biggest inspiration and mentor has always been Nana Morri, who canonically has had many lovers, is super powerful, and has put her own desires at the forefront of much of what she does.

Fearne has taken many of these traits of Nana's and made them her own, but although shes impulsive and overtly confident externally, she's struggled to put her own desires out there in the world. One of the reasons she left the Fey realm to begin with was to go have adventures and find out who she was without being under Nana's influence, and even with 3 years of episodes, we only found out about some of Fearne's desires in this last episode. But to the point of romance, Nana's biggest love interest that we're aware of, has been and continues to be The Nightmare King, Ira Wendigoth.

Looking at Nana and Ira, they have fought and they have loved. I think at some stage there was betrayal, but even then they fought it out and loved again.

Ira recognises his own power and lives most of his life in mystery (to us viewers anyway), but thrives on chaos and loves that people fear and hate him. Grudges seem to fuel him, and we can often see his thought process in that he's willing to do whatever he can to further his own goals. However, with Nana, he's a lover. Ira brings gifts, apologies, flattery - he's still himself, but the love and respect there is clear despite the on-again/off-again distance.

I think Fearne and Ashton have inadvertently ended up in a similar dynamic. Ashton never had an example of romantic love growing up (to my knowledge), but they fell hard and fast for the hot faun in this new adventuring party. They then had to learn the hard way (as was their right, albeit frustrating), that they were no longer alone. They had friends and love. They didn't have to be in survival mode anymore, and they eventually realised that self-sacrifice is not always the answer to resolving their insecurities. Fearne was a balance to their anger and resentment, and Ashton was a confidence boost, advocating to and for her to stand up for herself and her desires. Their coupled trouble-making antics were so well balanced with their emotional dependence on each other. Through Shardgate, Fearne's acceptance of the shard and them bonding over their shared Titan heritage, their time spent together before and after FCG's death, Sorrowlord Zathuda's demise, and then adopting and releasing Gloamglut together... As an audience and shipper, I was really hoping they'd be more enthusiastic about staying together, even if that meant in a more open-minded way than Imodna and Dorym's endings.

But Ashton loves Fearne and understands her in a way no one else does. He will be the Ira to her Morrigan, and while no doubt they will adventure together again (finding Chet's eggs or discovering more about their Titan powers hopefully), he will carve his chaos in one way and she will pluck her discord in another. He will visit her, advocate for her wants, wait for her thoughtfulness to prevail (which I think it would), and she will follow his fate with Nana, find him on his travels, rock his world and then leave him yearning again.

Fearne also loves Ashton and has always worried about his well-being in her own way. She understands him as a fellow outsider and weirdo, and allows him to be the fuck up that he is without judgement. She was always by his side to support him emotionally or to steal from him physically, so I can only imagine how she would fuck with his fate thread for love and kicks. Away from her, Ashton might realise mid bar fight that his shots weren't hitting as well as they should and laugh as he cursed her out, but then his next punches would hit harder, faster and deadlier.

They are both unique creatures, who theoretically could live extra long lives (as again, who knows what titan shit, dunamancy, and fey lineage amount to), so when Talesin said Ashton would just disappear one day it's not hard to imagine that he disappears to the fey realm with Fearne, and they both return to the earth and flame to meet their peace. They're a mirror of Nana and Ira, but hopefully more open, more loving, and sans gods more chaotic. I hope this isn't the last we hear of them, but what a ride it has been. ❤️

[arkadijxpancakes]

I have so many thoughts about this, lol.

Regarding the question "did Percy do anything wrong?":

I think, it depends heavily on what he did under the Voldemort-regime. Which we know nothing about. The only time we see him during that time period, is when he steps into an elevator, sees his father and flees. The next scene is him joining the order in their final stand against Voldemort and his Death Eaters. At that point, he had already tried to get out and made contact with the resistance via Aberforth.

Did he help the Death Eaters before that point? We don't know.

Did he engage in some form of resistance? We don't know either.

If Yaxley kept him as an assistant to Thicknesse, he probably had ample opportunity for both. But canon is completely silent about that. (Thankfully, in my opinion.)

Regarding the family situation:

It's okay to go low or no contact with your family and I think we should normalize that.

The whole row and its fallout is just a shitty position to be in. This was pretty much a scenario, where Percy could not "win", no matter what he did.

Firstly, there was the pressure from the ministry. The investigation regarding Crouch Senior was still ongoing, at that point. I do not think that Percy was really at fault here. Or, to be more concrete: There were so many people who fucked this up, Percy doesn't even make it into the Top 10.

This was his very first job. When Crouch got put under the Imperius, Percy had the job for a month, maybe two. (Maybe. He left Hogwarts in June and started working under Crouch in July or August. Crouch got attacked between August 19th and September 1st.)

Percy probably had no training in "How to notice that my superior was put under the Imperius curse". Partially, because most of his (known) teachers in Defense Against the Dark Arts were shit, and partially, because Crouch probably did not train him either. Additionally, he had little to no job experience and probably didn't know Crouch very well either. I would also assume, that Imperius!Crouch assured him that everything was normal and he shouldn't worry about it.

So no - I'm not surprised that he didn't notice.

I am surprised, however, that other people didn't notice this either. Including: Cornelius Fudge (Crouch was one of his department leaders, they should've been in regular contact throughout the year), the other department leaders (they, too, should've been in regular contact), the senior employees of the Department of International Cooperation (same) and the administration staff (because they probably keep track of when which employees are reporting sick and for how long). Arthur could've noticed something, too. While he had no regular contact to Crouch, he had regular contact to Percy - and as far as we know, Percy did not shut up about Crouch. He worked for the ministry during the first war, he could've easily recognized warning signs his son didn't.

So ... yeah. That's a lot of people. And no-one, literally no fucking one, went "Hm, haven't seen the head of the Department for International Cooperation for weeks/months. He's only ever sending his assistant, who's barely out of school. Weird?" Really?

Yeah, no.

I don't buy that. This could've worked, had Crouch been a lowly employee of a small bureau like Arthur Weasley or something. But a department leader? Nope. There were a lot of people who just decided to look the other way.

That said: The ministry is still corrupt as hell. Had this investigation really decided to "do something about it", they would've fired someone. And that someone wouldn't have been the one most responsible, but someone who was easy to replace. Probably Crouch Senior's new assistant. Percy.

Secondly, as you said, Arthur suggested that Fudge only promoted Percy so Percy would spy for him.

That's a really shitty situation. And it doen't really matter whether he thought that Percy willingly spy for Fudge or whether he thought that Percy was simply to dumb to notice. It just shows that Arthur doesn't trust his own son.

And there was no way to disproving him.

I mean, what was Percy supposed to do?

Reject the promotion? Considering how petty Fudge is, that would've gotten him fired in retaliation. Especially with the pending investigation. Which would've ruined his career. And not just his career within the ministry. (Because really, who would've employed someone who failed to notice that his superior got put under the Imperius and who was fired for it? No one.)

Accept the promotion and stay with the family? Arthur would just have kept distrusting him, and the rest of the family probably would've joined in. (If they really thought that Percy was willingly or accidentally spying on them, they would've treated him accordingly. Could be everything - keeping information from him, lying to him, excluding him from family meetings, making snide comments, maybe kicking him out, when he got suspicious enough. The things you do, when you believe that someone is spying on you.) This would've only caused more arguments and more hurt feelings down the line.

Or ... he could've left.

That way, there was no possibility to spy on his family. It also removed him from a situation, where everyone around him distrusted him and treated him like a would-be traitor.

So, leaving was probably the best option. For all of them.

Additionally, kids just don't go no contact with their parents over a single argument. Usually, they tend to stay and try to ignore what upsets them, until they reach their breaking point. And this was Percy's breaking point. It's understandable, that he struggled with his family's (and especially Arthur's) reputation. And we don't really see Arthur supporting him, either. (Quite the opposite, considering how fast he jumped to accusations.) It's also understandable, that he struggled with the family's lack of money. (Note: I would not call this poverty. I know, the narrative tries to frame them as poor, but Rowling fails miserably. They look like a family struggling not with poverty, but with bad spending habits.) And while his siblings were vocal about this (especially the poverty-bit), he didn't voice his discontent for ages. He probably would've kept it that way, if not for the row.

And regarding "but he hurt his family members by not coming back and the stuff he did to Molly!"

Yeah, no shit. There was no reason to go back.

Voldemort being back didn't change anything about the spy-accusation. They could've easily kept that shit going. Especially, if we consider that Scrimgeour (unlike Fudge) did use Percy against his family.

And Molly? She didn't try to resolve the conflict. All she did was trying to guilt-trip him into coming back, while ignoring his boundaries. Going back to appease her would've just brought him back into a situation, where he was treated like an outsider (and a would-be traitor) anyway. Other than that, it's Arthur who needed to step up here, and it's telling that he didn't. (He didn't even apologize at the end of DH, which does not bode well for their relationship in the future.)

I feel like when I say I think Percy didn’t do anything wrong people don't really understand what I mean

Being wrong and doing wrong are not the same thing

He was wrong about Voldemort not being back but leaving his family was not a wrong action he didn't just leave for no reason it had very little to even do with Harry imo

He was going through alot of stuff and things were turning around his hard work was being recognized his career was not over over something he hadn’t even had any control over

just for his dad to say he didn't trust him and that the only reason he'd ever get promoted is to spy on them

Like why would he stay after that?? I think him leaving was inevitable tbh if it wasn't this I would have been something else

I think he will always leave eventually

Not even going into that no I don't think being upset at your parents for not wanting more money to better take care of seven kids is wrong

He was mean about it but everything other then Voldemort being back he was right about

I know people bring up the letter all the time too but like Harry did continuously get Ron hurt so I actually see it as pretty sweet that even after falling out he's worried even if he should have known it would only make things worse

sending the sweater back and closing the door in Molly's face were not wrong if you make it clear you are pulling away from someone and they keep pushing your boundaries it's not on you to comfort them