#you can do it earlier if you want but if you go seven seasons with no singing shame on you

[why-is-it-always-autumn]

How did Buffy the Vampire Slayer Season 6 Episode 7 Once More With Feeling sprint so that later shows* could stand dead still interpreting "musical episode" as "the characters put on an existing musical and stop the plot dead to do covers of songs that vaguely relate to them. Maybe we make some single-episode subplots with no follow up so the characters fit the songs better?"

*not you, Scrubs, you're doing amazing and we're glad you're here

[harrysfolklore]

christ-max -mv1

summary: you invite your boyfriend max to spend christmas with you for the first time, however, your family doesn't quite believe you're dating a formula 1 world champion. wc: 5.8k

folkie radio: HAPPY CHRISTMAS TO ALL OF YOUUUU! i hope you're having the best day ever with your loves ones. this fic ended up being longer than i intended but i hope you like it!

MASTERLIST | MY PATREON

You're nestled into Max's side on his couch, wrapped in the soft throw blanket he keeps specifically for these quiet moments together. The afternoon light filters through the floor-to-ceiling windows of his Monaco apartment, casting a glow across the room. Your feet are tucked under you, and you can smell the lingering scent of the coffee you both made earlier.

The Netflix show you'd put on - some random documentary about deep-sea creatures - has become mere background noise. Max's fingers are threading through your hair in that gentle way that always makes you melt, occasionally stopping to massage your scalp. .

"I can't believe the season's actually over," you murmur, tracing lazy patterns on his arm. "Feels weird not having to plan around race weekends anymore."

Max chuckles, the sound rumbling through his chest where your head rests. "Yeah, but now we have to plan around all the end-of-year events instead. Did you see how many galas and ceremonies are coming up?"

"At least those don't involve you flying halfway across the world," you tease, tilting your head to look up at him. His hair is slightly messy, free from its usual styling, and you resist the urge to reach up and run your fingers through it.

"True," he agrees, then glances at his phone on the coffee table. "Speaking of events, I can't believe it's already December. Christmas is going to be here before we know it. Guess time flies when you're busy winning championships."

Your heart skips a beat. This is the opening you've been waiting for. You've been thinking about this for weeks, planning how to bring it up. "Actually… I wanted to ask you something about Christmas," you start, sitting up slightly to face him better.

Max's blue eyes meet yours, curious. "What's on your mind?"

"Well…" you bite your lip, suddenly feeling nervous despite knowing there's no reason to be. "I was wondering if you'd want to spend Christmas with me and my family this year? I know we've kept things private, but I really want them to meet you, and-"

"Wait, really?" Max interrupts, his whole face lighting up with that boyish excitement that made you fall for him in the first place. "You want me to meet your family?"

You can't help but smile at his enthusiasm. "Of course I do. We've been together almost a year now, and they keep asking why I'm always smiling at my phone." You playfully poke his side. "Which is your fault, by the way."

He catches your hand, intertwining your fingers. "My fault? I'm just being my naturally charming self," he grins, then his expression turns slightly more serious. "But are you sure? I mean, won't they be surprised when you show up with, well…"

"With a four-time World Champion?" you finish for him, laughing. "Actually, my dad might pass out. He's been watching F1 since before I was born. He has no idea I've been dating his favorite driver."

Max's eyebrows shoot up. "I'm his favorite driver?"

"Don't let it go to your head," you warn playfully. "But yeah, he's got your merchandise and everything. It's actually kind of embarrassing how much he talks about you during race weekends."

Max throws his head back laughing, and you can't help but join in. "Oh God, this is going to be interesting," he says, wiping at his eyes. "What about the rest of your family?"

"Well, Mom will probably try to feed you until you burst - she's like that with everyone. And my little sister Ruby, she's seven and she's going to have so many questions. She's in that phase where she wants to know everything about everything."

"I can handle questions," Max says confidently, then hesitates. "What kind of questions are we talking about?"

You pretend to think about it. "Oh, you know, probably things like 'How fast have you ever driven?' 'Have you ever crashed?' 'Do you want to marry my sister?'"

Max nearly chokes on air at the last one, his cheeks turning slightly pink. "You're joking, right?"

"About Ruby? Nope, she has absolutely no filter," you laugh, then soften your voice. "But seriously, they're going to love you. Just be yourself - the you I know, not the racing driver everyone else sees."

He pulls you closer, pressing a kiss to your temple. "I'd love to spend Christmas with your family. I can't wait to meet them." He pauses, a mischievous glint in his eye. "Should I wear my race suit when I meet your dad?"

You swat his arm, laughing. "Don't you dare! He'll actually faint." You settle back against his chest, feeling warm and content. "Thank you for saying yes. It means a lot to me."

"Thank you for asking me," he murmurs into your hair. "I love you."

"I love you too," you respond, smiling as his arms tighten around you. The documentary continues playing, forgotten again as you both start planning for Christmas, trading ideas and jokes about how to break the news to your family.

You're sitting cross-legged on Max's bed while he's in the shower, your phone propped up against a pillow as you FaceTime your family. Your mom's face fills most of the screen, with your dad peering over her shoulder and little Ruby bouncing around trying to get a better view.

"Honey, we can barely see you. The lighting is terrible," your mom critiques, and you adjust your position slightly.

"Better?"

"Much better! Now, what's this important thing you wanted to tell us about Christmas?" Your mom asks, while Ruby shouts "Is it presents?" in the background.

You take a deep breath, trying to contain your smile. "Well, I wanted to let you know that I'm bringing someone with me this year… my boyfriend."

There's an immediate explosion of excitement. Ruby starts jumping up and down, your mom gasps dramatically, and your dad's eyebrows shoot up with interest.

"Finally!" your mom exclaims. "We've been wondering when you'd introduce him. You've been so secretive about this boyfriend of yours."

"What's his name?" Ruby pipes up, her face suddenly taking up half the screen as she pushes closer to the camera. "Is he nice? Does he like Disney movies?"

You laugh, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. "Yes, Rubes, he's very nice. And his name is…" you pause, knowing what's coming. "Max. Max Verstappen."

There's a moment of silence before your dad bursts out laughing. "Good one, sweetheart. Now, what's his real name?"

"I'm serious, Dad. I'm dating Max Verstappen."

Your mom is trying to hold back her laughter now too. "Honey, isn't that the racing driver you and your father are always watching? The one your dad has all those caps and shirts of?"

"Yes, and I'm actually dating him," you insist, feeling your cheeks heat up.

Ruby's face scrunches up in confusion. "The fast car man? From TV?"

"The very same one, Rubes."

Your dad wipes tears from his eyes. "Come on now, what's next? Are you going to tell us you're best friends with Lewis Hamilton too?"

"Dad!" you groan, running a hand over your face. "I'm being serious! We've been dating for almost a year. I'm literally at his place right now!"

"In Monaco?" your dad asks skeptically. "Prove it."

You swing your phone around to show the familiar view of Monaco through the windows, but your dad just shakes his head. "Could be any apartment in Monaco."

"You're impossible!" you huff. "Fine, don't believe me. You'll see at Christmas."

Ruby presses her face closer to the screen again. "Will he bring his race car?"

"No, Rubes, he can't bring the race car," you say, softening your tone for your little sister. "But I promise you'll love him."

After a few more minutes of your family teasing you about your "imaginary Formula 1 driver boyfriend," you end the call with a mix of frustration and amusement. Just as you flop back onto the bed, you hear the bathroom door open and Max walks out, his hair still damp from the shower.

"How'd it go?" he asks, noticing your expression.

You let out a laugh. "They think I'm making you up. They literally don't believe I'm dating you."

Max raises his eyebrows, looking amused as he sits next to you on the bed. "Really?"

"Really. Dad laughed so hard he nearly cried. And Ruby, my little sister, just wants to know if you're bringing your race car for Christmas."

"Sorry to disappoint Ruby," he grins, then looks thoughtful. "You know, maybe we should've waited to tell them in person. The looks on their faces would've been priceless."

"Oh, don't worry," you sit up, wrapping your arms around his neck. "They'll still be priceless. Dad's going to lose it when he realizes all those times he was rambling about you during races, he was actually talking about his daughter's boyfriend."

Max laughs, pulling you closer. "What else should I know before meeting them?"

"Well, Ruby's seven and obsessed with Frozen. She'll definitely make you watch it and probably sing along too."

"I can handle that," he says confidently.

"And recite all the lines?"

"…Maybe not that."

"And act out the scenes with her?"

Max's eyes widen slightly. "What have I gotten myself into?"

You kiss his cheek. "Too late to back out now, Verstappen. You're stuck with us."

"Wouldn't have it any other way," he murmurs, pulling you in for a proper kiss. "Even if it means playing Olaf the snowman."

"Oh no, you'll definitely be playing Elsa. Ruby's very particular about casting."

The look of horror on his face makes you burst out laughing, and soon he's joining in too. As your laughter dies down, you can't help but think about how perfect this feels - being here with him, planning to spend Christmas with your family, even if they don't believe you yet. You can't wait to see their faces when you show up at their door with Max Verstappen himself.

"Hey," Max says softly, breaking into your thoughts. "What are you smiling about?"

"Just thinking about how Christmas is going to be interesting this year."

"Interesting is one way to put it," he grins. "Should I wear my race suit when we arrive?"

"Don't you dare! Dad will actually faint."

"That's kind of the point," he winks, and you grab a pillow to hit him with, both of you dissolving into laughter again.

"Let me guess, another text from 'Max Verstappen'?" your dad teases from his spot at the kitchen counter, making air quotes with his fingers. He's wearing one of his many Red Bull Racing shirts, completely oblivious to the irony.

"Actually, yes," you reply, rolling your eyes. "He'll be here soon."

Your mom chuckles while peeling potatoes. "Honey, you can just tell us who your boyfriend really is. We won't judge, even if he's not a Formula 1 champion."

"Mom, I've told you a million times-"

"LOOK!" Ruby crashes into the kitchen, pointing at the TV in the living room where they're showing highlights from the last race. "It's YN's boyfriend!" She dissolves into giggles, clearly in on what she thinks is a funny joke.

"Very funny, Rubes," you mutter, but check your phone again when it buzzes.

Max: "Just turned onto your street. Nice neighborhood 😉"

Your heart starts beating faster. "He's here," you announce, heading toward the front door.

"Oh, we're still doing this?" your dad calls after you, amused. "Should I get my Max Verstappen cap for him to sign?"

"Actually, Dad, yes, you should," you shout back, slipping on your boots.

"Sweetie," your mom starts in that gentle voice she uses when she thinks you're being ridiculous, "you don't have to-"

The sound of a car pulling up interrupts her. You open the front door and step out onto the porch, watching as Max's car comes to a stop in your driveway. Your family has crowded behind you in the doorway, probably expecting to catch you in your "lie."

Max steps out of the car, looking unfairly handsome in his dark winter coat and scarf. His face lights up when he sees you, and you don't hesitate to run down the steps toward him.

"Hi," he grins, catching you in a tight hug and lifting you slightly off your feet. "Missed you."

You hear a loud gasp behind you, followed by what sounds like your dad choking on air.

"Missed you too," you murmur against his chest before turning to face your family, keeping one arm wrapped around his waist.

The scene on your front porch is priceless. Your dad's mouth is hanging open, his face pale except for two bright red spots on his cheeks. Your mom has both hands pressed to her face in shock. Ruby is the only one moving, bouncing up and down with excitement.

"IT REALLY IS THE FAST CAR MAN!" she shrieks, breaking the silence as she barrels down the steps toward you both.

Max laughs, crouching down to her level. "Hi Ruby. Nice to finally meet you. Your sister has told me a lot about you."

"You're real!" she exclaims, poking his arm as if to make sure.

"Very real," he confirms, looking thoroughly amused.

"I… you… but…" your dad stammers, still frozen in the doorway.

"Hi, Mr. and Mrs. LN," Max says, standing back up and guiding you and Ruby toward the porch. "Thank you for having me for Christmas."

Your mom seems to snap out of her shock first. "Oh my goodness, please come in! It's freezing out here. I… oh dear… the potatoes… I should… more food… I need to…"

"Mom, breathe," you laugh, as Max follows you inside.

Your dad hasn't moved an inch, still staring at Max like he's seeing a ghost. "You're… you're actually… the Brazil overtake…"

"Dad, no F1 talk yet!" you warn. "Let him at least get his coat off first."

"Right! Yes! Coat!" your dad says frantically. "I'll take your coat! And then maybe… could you… would you mind signing my…"

"Collection?" you finish for him, smirking. "The one you thought I was making up?"

Max raises his eyebrows at you, remembering your conversation about your dad's merchandise collection.

Ruby tugs on Max's hand. "Do you want to see my Frozen dolls? And can we watch the movie? Sissy said you've never seen it!"

"Ruby, let him settle in first," your mom calls from the kitchen, where she appears to be panic-cooking. "Oh God, is the food good enough? Do Formula 1 drivers have special diets? Should I-"

"Mom, the food will be perfect," you assure her, then turn to Max. "See? I told you they'd be cool about it."

Max tries to suppress his laugh as your dad continues to stare at him in awe, your mom stress-cooks enough food to feed an army, and Ruby continues pulling on his hand.

"Very cool," he agrees, pressing a kiss to your temple. "Though I think your dad might need to sit down."

"I'm fine!" your dad squeaks, then immediately sits down heavily on the nearest chair. "Just… just give me a minute to process that my daughter is actually dating Max Verstappen and I've been accidentally talking about my future son-in-law during every race and-"

"DAD!" you exclaim, feeling your face heat up while Max chuckles beside you.

"What? I'm just saying… all those times I said 'that Verstappen boy would make someone a good husband someday' and it turns out-"

"Okay!" you interrupt loudly. "Who wants coffee? Max, come help me with coffee!"

As you drag a laughing Max toward the kitchen, you hear Ruby start explaining the entire plot of Frozen to him, your mom muttering about needing to buy more food, and your dad still talking to himself about racing statistics.

"Still think this was a good idea?" you whisper to Max.

He pulls you closer, grinning. "The best. Though you might want to tell your dad to breathe before he passes out."

"Can we build a snowman after coffee?" Ruby calls out.

"Only if Max gets to be Elsa!" you shout back, earning you a playful glare from your boyfriend.

Looking around at your slightly chaotic but loving family, and seeing how naturally Max fits into it all, you can't help but smile. This is definitely going to be a Christmas to remember.

The initial chaos has settled into a cozy scene in your living room. You're curled up on the couch next to Max, who has Ruby practically attached to his side. She hasn't stopped talking since everyone sat down, and Max, to his credit, is giving her his complete attention.

"And then Elsa makes this huge ice castle," Ruby explains, using elaborate hand gestures. "Can you drive as fast as Elsa runs up the mountain?"

"Probably faster," Max answers with a grin, making Ruby's eyes widen.

"Even in the snow?"

"Even in the snow."

Your dad, who's finally regained his ability to form complete sentences, sits in his armchair trying very hard not to bombard Max with racing questions. He keeps opening his mouth, then closing it again when you give him a warning look.

"It's okay, Dad," you laugh. "You can ask him one race question. Just one."

Your dad looks like he might cry from happiness. "The overtake in Brazil-"

"Which one?" Max asks with a playful smirk, and your dad launches into an enthusiastic discussion about racing lines and grip levels.

Your mom returns from the kitchen with a tray of hot chocolate and cookies, having finally accepted that she doesn't need to cook enough food for an entire F1 paddock. "Here we go. I hope it's okay, Max. YN mentioned you like hot chocolate."

"It's perfect, thank you," Max says warmly, accepting a mug.

Ruby immediately reaches for a cookie, then pauses. "Do race car drivers eat cookies?"

"Only the fast ones," Max whispers conspiratorially, making her giggle.

"Ruby, give Max some space to breathe," your mom says gently, noticing how your sister is practically in his lap.

"It's fine," Max assures her. "I have nephews. I'm used to it."

Ruby beams at this information. "Really? Do they like Frozen too?"

"I don't know, but I'm sure they'd love to hear your explanation of it," he says, and Ruby launches into another detailed plot summary.

You catch your mom watching the interaction with soft eyes, all her earlier panic forgotten. She meets your gaze and mouths 'He's wonderful' when Ruby isn't looking.

Your dad has moved on from Brazil to discussing tire strategies, but stops himself mid-sentence. "Sorry, I'm probably boring you. You live this stuff."

"Not at all," Max says sincerely. "It's nice talking about it with someone who understands racing. YN usually just tells me to stop being a nerd when I talk about tire compounds."

"Because you spent two hours explaining the difference between C3 and C4 compounds!" you defend yourself.

"It's fascinating stuff," your dad says eagerly, and Max nods in agreement.

"Oh no, there's two of them now," you mutter to your mom, who laughs.

Ruby tugs on Max's sleeve. "Can we watch Frozen now? Please? You promised!"

"Ruby, let Max rest a bit," your mom starts, but Max shakes his head.

"A promise is a promise," he says solemnly to Ruby. "Should we watch it now?"

Ruby squeals with delight, jumping up to get the remote. Your dad looks slightly disappointed that his racing talk is being cut short, but you can see him hiding a smile at Ruby's excitement.

"Fair warning," you whisper to Max as Ruby sets up the movie, "she knows every word. And she will sing along."

"As long as she doesn't expect me to sing," he whispers back.

"MAX!" Ruby calls, patting the spot next to her on the floor where she's arranged pillows. "You have to sit here! It's the best spot!"

Max obliges, settling down next to her while you stay on the couch, exchanging amused looks with your parents as Ruby starts the movie, already mouthing along to the opening music.

Your mom leans over to you. "I'm sorry we didn't believe you," she whispers. "He's lovely. And so good with Ruby."

"I told you," you whisper back, watching as Ruby explains to Max why Elsa has ice powers.

Your dad joins in the whispered conversation. "Think he'd sign my mug collection later?"

"Dad!"

"What? I'm just saying, Christmas cards would be sorted for the next few years…"

You're about to respond when Ruby shushes you all loudly. "This is the best part!"

Max catches your eye and winks, clearly enjoying himself despite being roped into a Disney movie viewing with a very enthusiastic seven-year-old commentator. Your heart swells watching him with your family, how naturally he fits in, how gentle he is with Ruby.

"Do you want to build a snowman?" Ruby starts singing along with the movie.

"Later, Rubes," you promise. "Let's watch the movie first."

She nods seriously, then turns to Max. "Pay attention to this part. It's very important."

"I won't miss a second," he promises, and Ruby beams at him before turning back to the screen.

Your mom reaches over and squeezes your hand, giving you a knowing look. Even your dad has stopped thinking about racing long enough to appreciate the moment – his youngest daughter sharing her favorite movie with your boyfriend, who happens to be the F1 driver he's been fan-boying over for years.

It's perfect, you think, watching your family and Max together. Different from how you imagined telling them, but perfect nonetheless.

"Shh!" Ruby whispers loudly. "Elsa is about to sing Let It Go!"

Max shoots you a slightly panicked look as Ruby starts to stand up, clearly ready to perform the whole number. You just grin and shrug. After all, you did warn him about the singing.

Later that evening, you finally manage to steal a moment alone with Max. Ruby had fallen asleep during the third replay of Frozen, and your parents took her up to bed before retreating to the kitchen to finish some Christmas preparations.

You find Max on the back porch, leaning against the railing and looking up at the stars. The winter air is crisp, and you can see his breath forming little clouds in the darkness. Quietly, you step out and wrap your arms around him from behind, pressing your cheek against his back.

"Hey," he says softly, turning in your arms to face you. His hands find their way to your waist, pulling you closer. "Needed a little break from being Elsa?"

You laugh quietly, reaching up to brush a strand of hair from his forehead. "You were amazing with Ruby today. I think you're officially her new favorite person."

"She's a sweet kid," he smiles, then adds with a playful glint in his eyes, "Though I didn't expect to watch Frozen two times in one day."

"Just wait until tomorrow. She'll probably want to act it out."

He groans dramatically, but you can see the fondness in his expression. "The things I do for you."

"Mmm, and I appreciate every one of them," you murmur, standing on your tiptoes to kiss him softly.

Max responds immediately, one hand moving to cup your face while the other pulls you even closer. The kiss is gentle and unhurried, full of unspoken emotions. When you finally pull back, he rests his forehead against yours.

"Thank you," you whisper.

"For what?"

"For being so perfect with my family. For watching Frozen multiple times. For not running away when my dad started his racing commentary."

He chuckles, the sound rumbling in his chest. "I like your family. Your dad's racing knowledge is impressive, your mom's trying very hard not to mother me to death, and Ruby…" he pauses, smiling. "Ruby reminds me of Victoria at that age."

You snuggle closer, seeking his warmth in the cold air. "I was so nervous about telling them, and then even more nervous when they didn't believe me. But this… this is better than I imagined."

"Even with your dad asking me to sign his entire Red Bull merchandise collection?"

"Hey, at least he waited until after dinner," you laugh. "Though I'm pretty sure he's in there right now planning which items to bring out first."

Max wraps his arms more securely around you, pressing a kiss to your temple. "I love you," he says quietly, and your heart skips a beat like it does every time he says those words.

"I love you too," you reply, tilting your face up for another kiss.

This one is deeper, more passionate, until you hear the back door creak and quickly step apart.

"Oh!" your mom exclaims, looking flustered. "Sorry, I just… wanted to ask about breakfast preferences… but it can wait… carry on!"

She disappears back inside, and you both burst into quiet laughter.

"We should probably go back in," you sigh, though you make no move to leave his embrace.

"Probably," he agrees, but instead of letting go, he pulls you back for one more kiss. "Five more minutes?"

You smile against his lips. "Five more minutes."

In the quiet of Christmas eve, wrapped in each other's arms, you can't help but think how perfectly he fits into your life, into your family, into your heart. Tomorrow there'll be more Frozen, more racing talk, more of Ruby's endless questions, but right now, it's just the two of you, and it's everything.

The winter sun is just beginning to peek through the curtains of your childhood bedroom, casting a soft golden glow across the room. You're wrapped in warmth, nestled against Max's chest with his arm draped around your waist. His steady breathing tells you he's awake before he even moves.

"Good morning," he murmurs against your neck, his voice still rough with sleep. His lips brush against your skin, sending shivers down your spine.

"Morning," you whisper back, feeling his hand slowly slide beneath your sleep shirt, his fingers tracing patterns on your skin.

"Sleep well?" he asks innocently, but his actions are anything but innocent as he presses closer, leaving a trail of kisses from your shoulder to your ear.

"Max," you breathe, caught between wanting to lean into his touch and knowing you should stop. "We can't… my parents…"

"Then we'll have to be very, very quiet," he whispers, nipping at your earlobe. His hand travels higher under your shirt, making your breath hitch.

You turn in his arms, ready to either give in or properly protest - though the way he's looking at you, eyes dark with desire and that signature smirk playing on his lips, makes you lean heavily toward the former.

"You're trouble," you murmur, reaching up to run your fingers through his disheveled hair.

He leans down to capture your lips in a heated kiss. "You love it."

Just as his hand starts to wander again, a voice pierces through the quiet morning:

"IT'S CHRISTMAAAAS!" Ruby's excited scream echoes through the entire house, followed by the thundering of small feet running down the hallway. "WAKE UP! WAKE UP! SANTA CAME!"

Max drops his forehead to your shoulder with a frustrated groan. "Your sister has impeccable timing."

"Welcome to Christmas with Ruby," you laugh, pressing a consoling kiss to his cheek. "I tried to warn you."

"YN! MAX!" Ruby's fists pound on your door. "GET UP! There are presents EVERYWHERE! And it SNOWED!"

"Five more minutes, Rubes!" you call back.

"NO MINUTES! NOW!" she insists, continuing to knock. "Mom said breakfast is ready and Dad made hot chocolate and I SAW A HUGE PRESENT WITH MY NAME ON IT!"

Max chuckles against your shoulder. "I suppose we should…"

"PLEASE!" Ruby calls again. "I promise I'll let you drink your coffee first!"

"That's quite the offer from her," you tell Max. "She usually doesn't allow any delays on Christmas morning."

"We're coming, Ruby!" Max calls out, sitting up and running a hand through his hair. "Give us two minutes to get dressed."

"TWO MINUTES! I'm counting!"

You can hear her dramatically counting down in the hallway, making Max laugh. "She's serious about this, isn't she?"

"Oh, you have no idea."

The living room is a festival of color and chaos when you finally make it downstairs. Ruby's bouncing by the tree in her Christmas pajamas, while your parents are settled on the couch with steaming mugs of coffee.

"Finally!" Ruby exclaims. "I counted way past two minutes!"

"Sorry, princess," Max says, accepting a coffee mug from your mom. "But I'm here now."

"Max, sweetheart, you really didn't have to get us anything," your mom says, noticing the pile of presents he'd arranged under the tree last night.

"Of course I did," he replies warmly. "It's Christmas."

Ruby's practically vibrating with excitement as your dad starts distributing gifts. "Can I open mine from Max first? Please?"

At your nod, she tears into the elaborate wrapping paper, gasping when she reveals a beautiful wooden chest with golden details. "It's like a treasure chest!"

"Open it," Max encourages, smiling.

Ruby lifts the lid carefully, her eyes widening. Inside is a complete collection of princess dresses, each one a perfect replica from different Disney movies, along with matching accessories and a tiara for each one.

"The chest is magical," Max explains, kneeling beside her. "Every time you open it, there might be a new surprise inside. And look at this…" He reaches in and pulls out a small envelope.

Ruby opens it to find a letter with the Disney castle letterhead. "Dear Princess Ruby," she reads aloud, her voice getting more excited with each word. "You are cordially invited to spend a royal weekend at Disney World, where you will have a private breakfast with all the Disney princesses…"

She doesn't even finish reading before launching herself at Max, nearly knocking him over. "Thank you thank you thank you! Can I try on the Elsa dress right now?"

"After presents," your mom laughs. "Let's see what else Santa brought."

Your dad opens his gift next, finding an envelope that makes him pause. "Son," he says, voice thick with emotion as he reads the contents. "This is…"

"VIP passes to the British Grand Prix," Max confirms. "Including garage access, grid walk, everything."

Your dad has to sit down, clutching the passes like they might disappear. "This is… I can't…"

"And this," Max hands him another package, "is just a little something extra."

Inside is a vintage racing jacket from your dad's favorite driver from the 80s, signed and authenticated. Your dad actually tears up.

Your mom opens her gift next, despite protesting again that Max shouldn't have gotten them anything. She unwraps a beautiful pair of earrings.

"Oh, Max," she whispers, "This is beautiful."

Ruby, who has been surprisingly patient, tugs at Max's sleeve. "Can we do my princess breakfast now?"

"After we finish presents," you laugh. "And maybe we should have real breakfast first?"

"But I'm a princess now," she declares. "Princesses have special breakfast times."

Your mom shakes her head fondly. "How about pancakes fit for a princess?"

"With chocolate chips?" Ruby negotiates.

"With chocolate chips," your mom confirms. "Max, honey, how do you like your pancakes?"

"However they're made is perfect," he assures her, but your mom is already heading to the kitchen, muttering about making sure she has enough chocolate chips.

Your dad finally finds his voice again. "Max, this is too much…"

"It's not," Max says firmly. "You're… you're family now. Or at least, I hope…"

He glances at you meaningfully, making your heart skip a beat.

Later, after pancakes and multiple princess dress changes from Ruby, you manage to steal some time alone with Max in your favorite spot on the back porch. The morning sun has warmed the air slightly, but there's still a crisp winter chill that gives you an excuse to stay close to him.

"Your turn," Max says softly, pulling out a small wrapped box from his pocket.

Your hands tremble slightly as you unwrap it, revealing a velvet jewelry box. Inside is a delicate silver necklace with two intertwined pendants - a heart and a tiny racing helmet.

"Max," you breathe, touching the pendants gently. "It's beautiful."

"Look at the back," he says quietly, his voice carrying a note of nervousness you rarely hear.

You turn the heart over to find an engraving: "You're my biggest victory. -MV"

"I love you," you whisper, pulling him down for a kiss. His arms wrap around you, holding you close as if you're the most precious thing in his world.

When you finally part, you hand him your gift - a wrapped box that makes him raise his eyebrows at the weight.

Inside, he finds a handmade scrapbook filled with your personal moments - sneaky paddock kisses, quiet mornings at home, victory celebrations, and candid moments no one else has seen. The final page holds a photo from yesterday - Max on the floor with Ruby, both laughing during their third viewing of Frozen.

"This is…" he starts, voice thick with emotion.

"Wait," you say softly, reaching into your pocket. You pull out a key on a simple keychain. "I thought… maybe… if you wanted…"

"Move in with you?" he finishes, breaking into that brilliant smile that never fails to make your heart race. "Yes. Absolutely yes."

He pulls you into another kiss, deeper this time, one hand cradling the back of your head while the other holds the key carefully.

"MAX!" Ruby's voice carries from inside. "I need help with my Cinderella shoes! And then we have to build a snowman! A FROZEN snowman!"

You both laugh against each other's lips.

"Duty calls, Elsa," you tease.

"Only if you'll be my Olaf," he grins, pressing one more quick kiss to your lips.

"Always," you promise, letting him lead you back inside where Ruby waits, already changed into her third princess dress of the morning.

Your dad catches your eye as you pass, "If you don't marry this boy," he whispers, "I will."

"Dad!"

"I'm just saying," he shrugs, then heads outside to join the snowman-building committee.

Your mom appears at your other side, wrapping an arm around you. "He's right, you know. He's perfect for you."

You lean your head on her shoulder, watching Max let Ruby direct him on where to place the snowman's arms. "I know," you smile. "I know."

"Best Christmas ever?" she asks softly.

Looking at your family, and Max in the middle of it all, belonging there like he's always been part of it - you smile.

"Best Christmas ever," you agree.

[d4yl1ghts]

late escapes (1)

benedict bridgerton x shy, fem!reader

summary: the second bridgerton son finds you outside and an unlikely spark flies between you two

warnings: mentions of anxiety, anxiety attack (not really though)

A/N- i promise the next fic i post will be anthony guys

part 2

-

Attempting to catch your breath from the bustling atmosphere of the ball, you decided to breathe in some fresh air. You leaned against the wall as your breathing gradually yet slowly decreased. As you thought back to the overwhelming outfits and decor, your heartbeat raced in fear. You were personally never one to enjoy the events of the social season. They usually left you feeling rather anxious and breathless.

Hiding behind a boundless and beautifully engraved pillar, you silently cleared your mind and opened your eyes and noticed a chestnut-haired and handsome man staring at you in concern from across the garden. Once you had made eye contact, he decided to make his way toward you. “You look like you’re having a tough time over there.”, he called as he made his way over. It was almost teasingly but once he noticed your forced laughter, he stopped.

“Are you alright… Lady Y/N, I believe?”, he questioned. “Yes, I was just in need of some fresh air and time alone, Mister Bridgerton.”, you admitted. “Oh, I’ll go back inside then.”, he chuckled slightly. “No, it’s fine. Sorry.”, you laughed awkwardly. “Well, I thought I would come out here to escape the mamas, they’re so pestering and irritating, I needed to escape them.”, he huffed playfully as he recalled the interaction. You giggled as you imagined it. “I don’t think you can blame them.”, you replied, not acknowledging the meaning behind the words.

Benedict stared at you and smirked charmingly. “I know. A handsome man who is a talent at art. Who can blame them?”, he repeated your words from earlier with a cocky smirk on his face. You rolled your eyes as your cheeks flushed slightly but thankfully the dim lighting hid it. “You enjoy doing art?”, you questioned. “That is what I just said. No, I’m only joking. Yes, I do a lot of art in my free time.”, he nodded his head. “Wow, I never would have took you to be an arts man.”, you responded as you smiled at him.

“Really? Why not?”, he truly wanted to know but he mostly wanted to keep talking with you. “I don’t know, I thought you’d enjoy horse riding perhaps.”, you answered, not really knowing how to respond- you simply were just shocked by the fact and you didn’t know why. “Oh, I do enjoy horse riding, just not as much as art.”, he sent a gentle smile your way. “Do you have any passions?”, he asked. “I suppose I do enjoy reading and playing the piano.”, you confessed shyly. “My sister, Eloise, enjoys reading, I’m sure you would get along well and my other sister, Francesca, enjoys the pianoforte.”, he stated as he gazed thoughtfully into the distance. Were you going to meet his family in the future?, you thought to yourself.

“Yes, you do have a few siblings, is it seven or eight?”, you asked as you took in his features whilst he looked the other way. Grey-blue eyes that glistened in the moonlight and his perfectly swept chestnut hair. He was quite the man. You weren’t sure how he hadn’t caught your eye before. Perhaps you were too focused on escaping the event to notice him.

“Eight.”, he simply answered.

Abruptly, he turned back to face you and noticed you sitting there idly as you absorbed his facial structure. He cleared his throat to get your attention. “Shall we return to the ball? We can hide in a corner together so I can escape the hunting mamas and you can escape the attention.”, he offered. You smiled at that. He was so understanding, he just automatically knew how you were feeling and you had only known him for a few minutes (or so it felt like it). Time flies when you’re having fun, as they say.

“I would love to hide away in a corner with you, Benedict.”, you replied innocently. Benedict attempted to contained his laughter but failed. He simply laughed at you as you realised what you said. “No.”, you said as you giggled and headed back inside to hide in a corner with Benedict.

[lovelytsunoda]

my fun // oscar piastri

(gif is by @/oscarcito!)

summary: it’s not every day that a first date lands you in the emergency room, or gives your date a concussion before the food has even left the kitchen

pairing: oscar piastri x female reader

warnings: hospitals, blood, the awkwardness of a first date. low key inspired by season 1 episode 3 of the big bang theory when leonard and penny go on their not-date

yn yln must have been dreaming.

as she sat on one side of the wooden table inside the smokehouse, arms crossed in front of her as she looked over at her date, there was a part of her that kept telling her that there was no way it could be real.

she was quiet and smart, and could recite the entire periodic table in order from memory, and the boy sitting across from her was leagues prettier, with an athletes body and the ability to control a room with one singular lame joke.

he’d moved in across the hall from her earlier that year, and she and her friends had immediately dropped everything to watch shamelessley as the young man and his chiseled athlete friends and carried cardboard boxes up four flights of stairs.

oscar piastri was thinking the same thing. how a big famous athlete like him got someone as sweet and humble as yn to agree to date with him. sure she was awkward, and sometimes very shy, but at her core, she was sweet and funny and kind. not to mention the simple beauty of someone who never wore makeup (not to say oscar wouldn’t have adored it if she did, he just knew that she was pretty without it as well).

neither party really knew what to say, sitting in a nervous silence with the menus spread in the table, a glass bottle of water from the waiter sitting next to two half-full glasses.

oscar reached for the popcorn, a sweet and salty mix he quite enjoyed, trying not to tip the bag over as he contemplated what size brisket to order.

“hey, do you want to see something neat?” oscar blurted, picking out for decently sized pieces of the sweet popcorn. “do you know how to juggle?”

“juggle?” his date asked hesitantly, eyeing him over the popcorn. “you do?”

“went to a circus camp when i was seven.” oscar shrugged. “there’s not much to do in my part of australia to be fair.”

it took a few tries for oscar to get started, but soon enough, he was juggling with the popcorn, the kernels delicately passing through his pale, calloused hands.

and believe it or not, yn was impressed. she broke out in a wide smile, giggling from her seat as she watched the young man in front of her. he had a goofy smile on his face, and seemed well in his element. he caught her eye across the table, stuttering his movements as he shot her a wink, losing two kernels. the kernels rolled under the table, and the boy cursed.

“don’t worry about it, that was really impressive.” yn laughed. “nobody has ever juggled popcorn for me on a first date.”

oscar laughed. “glad to be of service.” he took a small bow before accidentally knocking the steak knife off the edge of the table, wincing at the sound of metal hitting floor.

he cursed, pushing his chair back. “I should probably pick that up, shouldn’t I?”

“can you reach it with your foot? it might be easier.”

“don’t worry, I’ve got it!” oscar insisted, slipping off the chair.

“are you sure?” yn asked hesitantly, bare knees pressed against the cool cast iron that was holding the slats of the table together.

oscar slipped under the table, on his hands and knees in the dark smokehouse as he fumbled around the the steak knife, crushing two kernels of popcorn underneath his khaki pants in the process.

yn, meanwhile, was hyper aware of the fact that her date, who she barely knew, was crawling around under the table, in public, near her slightly parted legs.

oh my god, she thought. do they think he’s going down on me?

there was a bang under the table, the slats shaking. she reached over the menus to grab the glass water bottle as it threatened to topple over.

“oscar?” she shouted “you alright?”

“yeah.” his voice came out strained, almost as if he was hurt. “hey, did you happen to spill any ketchup?”

she felt a sinking feeling in her stomach, as a droplet of something warm fell against her toe through the lip of her sandals. “no. there isn’t any on the table.”

“fuck. I think I might need an ambulance.”

————

the emergency room is not where she wanted to spend her first date. it smelled like antiseptic soap, the lights too clinical and the plastic chairs too stiff. her neighbour looked pale, skin stained red from where he had bled.

as she understood it, oscar had hit his head on the cast iron hard enough to draw blood, but not enough that he was at risk of trauma or hemorrhaging.

or at least, that’s what the off-duty medic seated two tables over had said.

“how much blood do you think I’ve lost?” oscar wondered aloud, almost certain he was concussed. “if it’s less than a pint, I should be fine.”

yn laughed, rubbing him on the shoulder. “oscar, you’re fine. you still have most of your blood.”

“I’m so sorry our date ended like this. I ruined everything.” he exhaled, leaning to rest his head against the wall, still clutching g the bag of frozen peas given to him by kitchen staff against his cut.

she smiled to herself, reaching for his free hand. “what makes you think you’ve ruined anything?”

“the fact that there’s blood streaming down my face? or that were in the emergency room instead of sharing a hot chocolate fudge cake?”

they both laughed at the sheer absurdity of their situation, and yn resisted to urge to rest her head on his shoulder.

“you’re quite the man, oscar piastri. maybe you can make it up to me? I’m sure the smokehouse will be tripping over themselves to give us a free meal after tonight.”

oscar laughed lowly, a look of pain crossing his eyes. “you’d still want to go out with me after tonight?”

“of course I would, you adorable idiot.”

oscar looked like he was about to say something else when a tired-looking nurse in pink scrubs came rushing out of a hallway.

“mr and mrs piastri?”

yn flushed, her face heating up under the nurses gaze. “oh no, we’re not married. not even together, really.”

with all the energy he could, oscar winked at her before shakily getting to his feet in the sterile room. “wait for me, my love.”

yn laughed, watching him walk towards the nurse.

as far as first dates go, this one wasn’t bad at all, was it?

[madamechrissy]

Silent Serenades

♔ An arranged Marriage with Duke Gojo ♔

♔ Pairings: Satoru Gojo x you, you x Nanami

♔ Warnings: Heavy, heavy fucking angst, jealousy, cunnilingus, fingering, sex, cheating on your side (reader's) surprise Satoru isn't a hoe for once! Toxic attraction, Gojo is toxic, reader is toxic. OOC. SO MUCH TENSION. Say hello to Mr. Nanami again. SLOW BURN remember that.

♔ Word count this chap: 9k

♔ Summary: you are the diamond of the season, he is the charming Duke, it’s the marriage of the decade. Prominent families joining, and it so happens that Duke Gojo is gorgeous. But, he doesn't want you, and now you're trapped in a loveless arranged marriage. Royal AU, dark Bridgerton vibes, Cruel Gojo x reader. OOC Set in 1800s England. Slow burn, enemies to lovers. Gojo is awful at first, HEAVY angst Basically- Gojo is a royal dick and doesn't wanna marry you

Comments/ reblogs always appreciated 🥰

Part Seven - Masterlist - Playlist

Part Eight- A Proposition

The Next Week

“What are we baking today, Mr. Nanami?” You ask teasingly, as your fluffy little puppy snuggles up on a little blanket Nanami folded, snacking on a ham bone Nanami had rather happily. Nanami chuckles as he unlaces your corset a bit, pecking little brushes of his lips on your neck.

“Muffins today, darling. The lawyer is coming in a couple hours, I figure we can have some tea and muffins ready. He’s a very nice man, also, a good friend of mine for years. Mmm, why do you smell so delectable?” Nanami inhales you right at the crook of your neck.

“You always say that, I am not sure, perhaps the bath essence I use.” He just hums, tying an apron around you, pecking more kisses on your cheeks, on your temple, as you fall into him.

“No, you smell better than usual. Maybe I missed you all week.” He whispers, hands pressing into your hips now, over the thin layers of your soft muslin gown, you exhale, body reacting to him, igniting under his firm touch.

“I missed you, Kento.” You turn then, blushing as he presses you back against him, you’re still nervous about making love again, so worried because last time it had hurt. You do not know if it will hurt again, even if it was pleasurable, you find yourself just a little nervous.

“You know we don’t have to do anything but bake, right darling?” You bite your lower lip, reaching back to brush your fingers across his cheek, feeling his light stubble prickly on your fingers.

“I am a little afraid, it did hurt and was a little uncomfortable… but I want to try again.” Nanami sighs, pecking a kiss on your lips softly, lips thankfully healed from Satoru Gojo’s bites.

You and Satoru had done nothing, you both have not even spoken, not since he came home that night, and you fully expected him to bring women home, but he’d been mostly locked up in his office. You’d walked by one night and his face had collapsed onto the desk. You only know through servant gossip that his Father had left many estates in shambles.

You both ate without a word, he would glance at you here and there, with cold blue eyes, but you enjoyed the silence, you enjoyed being able to compartmentalize your feelings, which were so jumbled for this man. You contemplate if you had any feeling at all, or if it was just inexperience and passion, and now you’re fully ready to take this dive.

To end this marriage.

You frequently find Satoru in your room, caressing your cheek, tucking you in your bed as you had that one time, you do not reciprocate, you do not react, let him be confusing and stupid, let him be lonely. What does it matter to you? The only reason you had not seen Nanami was a busy schedule of appearances as ‘the Duchess’ , a title you will not have soon.

This morning, Nanami had been very clear with his intentions.

“When I leave, I wonder where I will go? I think we have an estate out of town I could stay in…” You murmured to Nanami earlier, and he scoffed, cupping your face, lips a breath away.

“You will stay with me, love. How could you think I’d help and not offer you to stay?”

“But it would be so scandalous!”

“So we go to Gretna Green and marry.”

You blink at that, eyes wide. “Marry me? Are you… Kento, are you so sure about this?”

“I’m very serious. When have I not been?” You had exhaled, as your puppy happily ran around both your legs, and Nanami picked him up, smiling, as you do.

“You two are adorable together. I suppose we would make a cute family.” He smirks then, touching your stomach carefully.

“Darling I need more than a puppy, I’m afraid I’d have to put a little bun in this oven. When you’re ready.” You’d been reduced to a blushing mess, touching his hand, snuggling with him and the puppy. “Is it too bold?”

“You ask the lady who said ‘take me’ what is bold?” He chuckles, as you giggle, and you both had gently kissed.

A marriage, babies…

“I am not rich, but I am well off, but I promise I would give you all a good life. I would work so hard for it.” Nanami says softly, and you feel your eyes misty with emotions.

“I have no doubt of this, Kento.”

You never have to wonder what Nanami wants, the man says it, he does not go back and forth in a stupid, endless cycle, he is bold and forthright with you. You gasp when his hand slips back around to your tummy, you exhale, shivering a bit in his hold, as you all stand in his little kitchen.

“Will I get pregnant? From…” It’s his turn to blush, clearing his throat.

“No, I um… remember when I pulled out?” You turn to him, holding his hands and shyly looking down at your slippered feet.

“When you… on my tummy?” You croak out, and he nods then, brushing your hair back off your neck.

“Yes, darling, that was so you would not become pregnant. I would not put you in such a position, especially before we are to marry. We do not know how long the proceedings of the annulment will take.”

“So how do… how does someone… get pregnant?” You ask cautiously, and he clears his throat, taking a breath, thumbs brushing the backs of your knuckles.

“Well, I would cum inside you.”

“I’m confused.”

He laughs softly, tilting your chin up, kissing the tip of your nose. “I would not spill my seed on you, but in you.”

Your body heats up at the thought, and you find yourself shifting your thighs. Nanami notices this with a quirk of his lips, his hazel eyes narrowing. “That sounds most intimate, Sir.”

“It is very much so, I have not done that with a woman. But you seem as if you like the idea.” You bury your face shyly in his chest.

“Hush, you tease me Sir.” He moans ever so lightly, rubbing his hands up and down your back as he holds you.

“You’re adorable to tease, do you blame me Duchess?”

“I will soon not be Duchess.” You murmur, and he smiles against your temple as he holds onto you. “But I will still be darling of course.”

“Of course you will be. So I think we rushed the first time, I did not work you up enough, that’s my thoughts on why it was uncomfortable. You know the prior times where I spent more attention on you?” You nod against him. “Well perhaps I got too excited, like a boy in leading strings with his first.”

“Did you get so excited?” You tease back, and he sighs, kissing you softly, mouth hot and hungry, you whine softly into it, body reacting to his careful caresses.

“I did, I beat myself up all week, I could have made it much better, but you looked so sexy I lost it.”

“Oh, Kento it was still so good!”

“No, not as good as it could have been. Now you’re worried-”

“Not at all!”

“You are. It will not be painful again, but also I’ll make sure she’s fully ready, I promise, love.” You whine out softly again when he’s kissing you, holding you so close, picking you up for a moment. “Mmm, only if you want to try again. I can wait, however long you need.”

“Kento, I am not patient, you know.” You run your hands down his chest, and he grins at that, white teeth flashing.

“Darling, you must bake with me first.”

“Oh, the muffins, yes! Let me show you my skills, Sir.” You and Kento set to work now, and he’s adding ingredients as you’re stirring them up in a bowl, wrist turning as you work the spatula. Soon you all fall into a comfortable side by side, you’re licking batter off one of his fingers, and he’s lapping up powdered sugar from your nose with a laugh.

It’s quiet in Nanami’s apartments, it’s so sweet in it's quiet too, as you both are softly speaking here and there, and you’re pouring the batter into the little paper cups. Was this happiness, enjoying his company, feeling comfortable, feeling so special doing the most basic things? Not feeling conflicted, cold, that bottomless pit of despair that was your husband.

“Perfect, as always, love.” Nanami says then, and you grin up at him, watching his hazel eyes glint as they crinkle at the corners.

“They are going to be so delicious!” You agree, measuring and smoothing out each muffin, and then Nanami is taking off your apron carefully, hanging it up and then doing the same with his own.

“Something else here is delicious.” He whispers, cupping your chin in his hand, and you flush, his intent hitting hard.

“Oh indeed, Sir? Are you sure?” He hums to himself, slipping your skirts up your legs and thighs then, eyes locked on yours as he watches your eyes flutter shut when he finds your heat over your pantalets.

“I’m very sure. I think it’s… over here…” He slips his middle finger under your waist band, and you’re trembling, growing slick under his expert touch, so gentle as it strokes your slit.

“Th-there? You… um… sure?” He laughs softly, swirling his finger, his other hand gripping your backside.

“Let’s taste-test.” He pulls his finger back, sucking on the tip now, and you yank him down to you then, clinging to his strong shoulders, tip toeing as you kiss. “See, so yummy.”

“Is it now?” You bite your lower lip now, as he’s picking you up in his arms, kissing you over and over, and you melt into him, into this sweet, sexy man. A perfect man.

When he’s got you on the edge of his bed, he’s gently undressing you, exhaling at each revealed part of your skin, hands trailing down your shoulders, your breasts, thumbs playing your nipples, which respond eagerly. You’re still in your white stockings and garter belt, bare everywhere else, when he kneels between your thighs, sucking on a nipple.

“Mmm!” You cry out, as he’s looking up at you, adoringly, but there’s something that fucks with you, Satoru Gojo’s stupid blue eyes, so obsessively staring at you, as he’s furious of what you’ve done. As he called you a whore and choked you, biting your lips bloody. Why did your body respond like that!?

You know he is horrible, but you also know he has been with no one since that night, even your Nan had commented, and here you are, letting Nanami touch you, see you fully, Satoru had barely seen you, you had never seen him, his body. You’d done less with your husband by far than with Nanami.

And Satoru deserves that, and you don’t deserve his cruelty, why should you suffer endlessly if you could instead feel happy, feel desire, feel loved? When you just feel so good for once, it’s like with Nanami it’s as easy as a beautiful morning, like some lovely picnic at the park, and with Satoru Gojo, that Duke, it was like being plunged into the Atlantic ocean.

Freezing cold.

How could Satoru be so cold, yet when he touched you it was like fire that spread all over? You shake those thoughts off, it’s not as if anything could or should ever come from those feelings, for once Satoru leaves you alone, and you get a blissful reprieve from such endless sorrow, though you’re still a stranger in that manor. Soon, maybe you’d have a home.

A real home, something comfortable. Nanami’s apartments are perhaps two rooms in Gojo Manor, but they feel so lovely, so cozy. Nanami feels so good as he’s kissing you, his lips drinking you in, as your hands entangle in his soft locks, feeling the blunt ends of his cut, he’d just gone to the barber today, grinning as he’d taken his hat off and shown you.

You’d do anything to keep a smile on Nanami’s face, and never hurt this man again, to give your full self and heart into it. Your eyes roll back when he finds you again, your eager pussy, hips rocking up for more of his rough hands, but gentle touches, and his lips part as he watches you, as he’s pushing a thick finger in your little hole.

“Mmm, s’good Ken!” You cry out, and he pauses, smiling a bit, pecking kisses down the side of your face.

“Ken, hmm? Do I have a nickname darling?” You smile at him, nodding then, before gasping in pleasure as he presses on that spot.

“Of course you do. Don’t I have a nickname?” He exhales, spreading your thighs apart now, hands on your waist as he pushes you to lay back, you’re gasping as he’s flicking his tongue on your clit, still using that finger. “Kento!”

“Mmm, I like Ken. Use it, darling.” He teases with a grin, and you giggle but it’s cut off when he’s swirling your clit with the tip of his tongue, and he’s spreading you wide, moaning against your pussy, and you’re feeling that heat build. You’re writhing under him, and he’s humming against you. “That’s it, love. Good girl.”

At that, you’re soaring even higher, as he’s looking up at you with that lazy gaze, lavishing your every inch, focusing on your clit more and more, and you’re clinging to him tightly, “Ken… going to…”

“Mmm, yes love.” He says softly, and diving back down, then you’re cumming all over his handsome face, and he’s still licking you, in little circles, drawing more wetness. Then he is smacking kisses on the lips of your sex, sliding up, his chin glistening, making you blush.

“Ken.” You say softly, reaching down to feel him over his trousers, so thick and hard already, and your tummy clenches, still so nervous. You don’t know if you made the right decision last time, so upset, now with a week of clarity you hope you’re more prepared emotionally.

“We do not have to do more, I could just do that, you know.” He says then, ever the gentleman Nanami is. You pull out his length, exhaling and kissing his tip, looking up at him then, and his eyes flutter shut, jaw clenching as you swirl your tongue around him, sucking him into your mouth. “Darling, you’re so good. You’re… you’ve only… with me?”

You pause then, blinking, as Nanami’s holding you back a bit. “I have not done this with anyone.”

“Not even him?” He asks then, and you back away, legs closing, tears pricking your eyes, making Nanami curse, covering his eyes with his hand now. “Fuck, please forget I asked that.”

“I have not done that with him. I know I hurt you telling you what he’s done, I feel horrible still. Maybe I should check on those muffins?” You stand then, and he grabs your shoulders carefully, pulling you against him.

“Please, I’m sorry. I know I can’t be this way, but the thought of him with you makes me so sick. I want you all to myself.” He whispers, kissing you once more, and you exhale, understanding him, how could he be okay with you still living with Gojo, why wouldn’t he worry? “That was wrong of me to do. Now you’re wanting to just leave my bed and you look so pretty on it.”

You look down now, swallowing, your throat dry as you try to focus. “Perhaps we should not go so far if you’re still hurting from me having done something with him?”

“No, no, fuck I want you so badly I cannot think of anything else.” He whispers, cupping your face gently, tilting your face up to look at him, feeling his passion with every breath, and you feel so fucking awful, how can you even be with someone like Nanami Kento? When you have thoughts of Satoru Gojo, he should be upset, you had so easily betrayed Nanami.

You will not even be with Gojo, stay with him.

You must shove the thoughts away.

“I have not done anything but kiss him once since you and I were intimate, and he angrily kissed me. Clearly upset. That’s what I do, I hurt people.” You whisper, feeling emotions stuck in your throat, unable to look at him, at his sweet expression and handsome features. It is what you do, you hurt Nanami, you hurt Satoru, even if he is horrible.

You hurt yourself.

You try to pull back, as you now are too worried of hurting him, your sweet Nanami, and you can tell the toll it takes on him. Nanami doesn’t let you leave his embrace, however, he’s pulling your naked body closer, cupping your face with one hand, eyes glimmering with his own emotion.

“You do not hurt me. I should not have asked.” His brows knit together, and you shake your head.

“You should ask, and I hate that you have to. It’s hurting me to see the pain on your face.” You say brokenly, and Nanami kisses you then, more passionate than he usually does, more intense now, lips firm against yours. You inhale him, that soft sandalwood mixing with the blueberry muffins you all make, intoxicating, and you feel him so strong, so sure.

“Please forget this moment. Let me make it up to you.” He asks pleadingly, and you shake your head.

“It’s fine, I promise. No need to make anything up to me, it’s just how you feel.” You brush his hair back with a tremulous little smile, looking up at him, then gasping as he’s picked you up again, laying you in his bed, sinking between your thighs, making you gasp.

“I’m not done with you just yet, darling.” He’s kissing down your neck, and you moan softly as he licks and sucks that spot behind your ear, and you’re shivering in pleasure, in desire. “I’m sorry I lost it around you just a bit, how can I not want you for just me?”

He’s gripping you tighter with those big hands, and you’re falling apart under his touch. “S’okay, Ken. Express yourself, don’t be afraid of speaking your- ah- feelings, it’s- ngh!”

He’s biting your neck now, hands sliding down your thighs, pulling one up over his arm, as he leans up and looks down at you, sandy hair falling over a brow. You bite your lower lip under his intense study of you, your breasts heaving up and down, nipples pronounced and aching.

“I fear I’ll scare you away, pretty Duchess.” You shake your head, brushing that hair back, pecking a kiss on his chin. “I crave for me to be the only man for you, the only one to touch you.”

“Oh, Ken- ah!” He’s pressing against your entrance now, exhaling, his eyes locked on yours, studying your reactions. You nod, testing it by rolling your hips up, and he moans, pressing deeper, you brace for pain, but there isn’t any, just a fullness, just a lot of stretching, pressure. “Mmm!”

“Are you alright my love?” He whispers, teeth clenched, and you nod, sucking in a breath as he strokes your face, shoving in so deep, you’re so wet it doesn’t hurt at all but it’s so much pressure.

“I’m so full? It’s a lot.” He pulls back a bit, sliding his fingers inside you instead of his cock, crooking them up as he’s kissing you over and over, and you’re clinging to his back, feeling the strong muscles contract. He makes you cum again, drinking your cries, then slides in, and fuck it feels so good then, you moan into his mouth.

“That’s it, you need a lot of warm up, I see.” He teases, and you giggle, breathless, as he holds one of your hands, entwining your fingers together. “Better, love?”

“Much. You can move, Sir.” You tease, then gasp as he does, as he begins, your back arching. He is stroking in and out of you, rolling his hips and bracing himself over you, lips peppering kisses everywhere he can, as your eyes roll back and your toes curl, and you feel such intense sensations. “Ken!”

“That’s it, my perfect darling. Cum on me, please, let me feel you.” He whispers, so husky, and his words along with his motions make you shatter, cumming all over him, pulsing around his cock. He pauses, sucking in a breath, head falling back. “You feel so exquisite, darling.”

“Ngh, y-you feel s’good.” You whisper back, as the gentle waves rock over you, and Nanami’s slowing his thrusts, kissing you sweetly.

“Wish I could cum inside you, so badly.” He says and you get flustered, now that you know what that means. “I won’t yet, love.”

“Yet.” You whisper back, earning his smile, and fuck Nanami’s smile is brilliant, as he makes sure you feel so good, as he’s caressing you everywhere you’re sensitive, as he gently rocks his hips, so not to hurt you, and soon he’s finding his own release, pulling out and resting his head on yours as he cums, sticky hot ribbons all over your belly button and tummy.

“Oh my god, you feel too good.” He says then, kissing you as you lean up on your elbows, and you blush furiously at the sight.

“It seems so wanton, Sir.” You say with a giggle, and he smirks.

“It is rather wanton, I’m afraid. I corrupted you.”

“Not at all. I am no angel.”

“You look an angel. Let me clean you.” He’s gently running a washcloth over your pussy, and you hiss a bit. “Too much love?”

“No, just a lot to get used to.” You smile reassuringly, running your hand up his chiseled cheekbone. “It was so much easier this time. I was afraid for nothing.”

He exhales in relief, shoulders stooping slightly. “Thank the gods, I was so worried.”

“No need to worry, indeed, I believe I quite enjoy it.” He grins now, and you both kiss over and over as the timer beeps, and he pulls you close against him, as you snuggle into his embrace.

“I want to take you out to town, not hide you.” He says huskily after you’ve dressed and turned off the oven, and you frown, feeling his need and devotion. “So beautiful they’ll question what you see in me.”

You glare then, shoving at his chest. “Excuse me! You’re so handsome, you better stop that!”

He grins now, mischievous. “How will you punish me hmm?”

“I could come up with ideas.” He laughs, the sound resonating in the room, and then he checks his bronze pocket watch.

“I eagerly look forward to them. It’s almost time to meet the lawyer, are you sure you’re ready, darling?” He asks softly, and you nod then, as a million thoughts whirl inside your mind.

A life of your own, with a man that loves you.

Baking muffins and making love, versus…

Whatever the fuck Gojo was.

“I’m ready.”

Later that evening 

You and your puppy Satoru walk into the manor, and for the… seventh day in a row? Satoru is not with a woman. You tilt your head curiously as the puppy Satoru comes to the Duke, and he pets him with a little smile, looking exhausted. Your puppy loves him and you’re not sure why, but it seems Gojo is also a little affectionate with him now.

Satoru Gojo looks at you then, assessing your body, and his lips go in a terse line. “Have fun, Duchess?” Duke Gojo asks, his voice dark and desperate, as you clutch your stack of papers tightly to your chest.

“I did indeed. And you, Duke?” You ask nonchalantly, coming into the dining room, lit by the soft chandeliers, as Satoru pours over his ledger as he sips on whiskey. “Is that your dinner?”

He laughs bitterly. “What care you? You care nothing for me. I am surprised you’ve even spoken to me today.” He says, gripping his glass so tight his knuckles whiten, veins popping out the back of his hand. You feel guilt eating at you, but you shouldn’t.

You shouldn’t.

“You care naught for me, so what does it matter?” You say, and he gulps his drink down now, sighing, shutting his swirling, tired blue eyes.

“I’m tired of watching you come back with marks from another man. I’m so fucking tired of it.” He speaks roughly, looking at you with eyes glassy from drink, red from exhaustion. You scoff as you walk forward, so close to him, that you inhale him, and his scent.

“And you-”

“I’m with no one!” His desperation kills you, as he looks over your body with silent hunger. “Can’t say the same for you.”

“Well welcome to my first couple of weeks with you, manwhore.” He scoffs, rolling his eyes. “Maybe you should bring them around, you’re awfully sad not fucking random women.”

“Sure, that’s why I’m sad.” He stands then, pouring another drink, as you come up to him then, sucking up your stupid feelings. “What on Earth is this!?” Satoru demands, fingering the enormous stack of legal papers you hand him then, and you giggle a bit, earning his icy blue glare.

“Have you learned to read, Duke Gojo?” You tap the top of the stack, and watch his brows draw together.

“What the… bloody hell…” He’s thumbing through them now, fervently going over it, mouth open, as you cling to the little satchel with the gift and note Nanami Kento gave you at the meeting.

“Indeed, it’s all in there, I had a lawyer write it up. Witnesses of our lack of intimacy are on page twenty two.” You say with a grin, and he glares, flipping to it, mouth wide open.

“Suguru and Shoko signed it!?”

“Mmhmm, they did not mind at all confirming those details, that we have not even once shared a room, let alone a bed. Oh, by the way, I kissed Suguru.”

“You what!?” He stands then, furiously, as you giggle.

“Indeed, we would have gone much further but… alas, he’s a little loyal to you I suppose. I believe he wanted to… oh, lick under my skirts he said! Why it’s a popular thing, all you men want to. Hmm. Should have let him, huh?” You smirk as you watch Gojo lose it, as you turn and spin, as if in a dance, heading to grab a glass of wine. “Mmm, yummy.”

“You insolent fucking brat. You kissed my best friend?” You shrug, nodding a bit, as his eyes swirl with emotions, as they dilate with anger.

“As I said, I should have done more, he was such a good kisser, hmm.”

“You fucking brat.” He snatches you by your free wrist, and you suck in a breath, steeling yourself with a nasty smile. You’ve had enough of trying to break through, of caring, you’re so far gone from him, you just can’t wait to hurt him, just the tiniest bit, before you never see him again. “Better kisser than me?”

“Oh yes, so gentle, not crude and nasty and-”

“You loved my kisses.” He whispers huskily, earning your laugh.

“Sure, whatever you think. Ah, you know Duke Gojo, someone else signed, take a gander.” You sip your wine, raising a brow, as he sputters again.

“Catherine!?”

“Mmm, yes. I saw her and we had lunch, she is too good for you in my opinion, quite a gem that girl. She apologized for everything. I think we’ll be friends!” You sip more, a little dripping on your lips, you touch the tip of your tongue to your lower lip as Satoru looks at you hungrily, then back at the paper, forlorn. “Continue on now.”

“You’ll give me half the dowry, why!?”

“It’s the best option, to make sure it’s swift, what a splendid deal, a month of marriage for that much money!”

“You wish to get rid of me so badly?” He whispers, looking up through his snowy lashes, and you nod then, tensing a bit.

“I’m willing to give you seventy percent, but please allow me thirty, for any children I have. I want to make sure they have something.” Satoru grabs you by your shoulders then, glaring.

“Children?”

“Mmm, of course, Kento wants two or three. If we shall be so lucky! And if they’re girls, they’ll need a dowry from me.”

“Kento. That’s his name?” He whispers, and you nod just a bit, as his breaths grow heavy, as he blinks tears. “Children with him?”

“Indeed, it’s what I’ll want, to be a mother. I love children. You’d know that if you ever asked about me, if you ever cared.” You clear your throat, stepping back, pouring another glass. “All in all, it’s a splendid deal. I suggest you go over it with your lawyer, I am quite exhausted, I do not know how you have energy after sex.”

“After… after…” You giggle again, snatching his bottle and turning, your skirts swishing behind you. “Come back here!”

“No thanks, I’ve had enough of looking at you. Go find some whores to fuck, it’s your only hobby it seems. Tata!” You saunter up the stairs, hearing the crashing, hearing his growl, then hearing his cries, soft sobs he assumes you don’t hear, but you’re happy he’s sobbing.

Fuck Satoru Gojo.

You eagerly set the bottle of wine down on your table, locking your chamber door and sipping one more, as you open the note.

My love, I cannot get you a ring yet, but please have this, it is not much but I wanted you to wear something from me. I will count the seconds until I may gaze upon your sweet face again.

Yours,

Nanami.

You tear up then, as your heart swells for this man, this man that has become so dear, remembering his caresses this morning, remembering the pleasure you found in his arms. The second time was so much better, so good you crave him already again, aching until next time you can feel him, filling you so full.

You shake yourself out of this heated dream, shaky hands opening a little velvet pouch, revealing a little delicate gold necklace, with a tiny little gold charm, and on the back it was two letters, K.N., his initials of course. Your heart thuds as you take off the heavy diamonds and sapphires Satoru’s money had bought, putting on instead this little necklace.

Fuck it feels good to rip off Satoru, and replace it with Nanami.

You hear a knocking on your door, and you roll your eyes.

“Go the fuck away, Duke. I’m done speaking.” You finger the necklace, smiling at your reflection. Nanami’s wife one day? It seemed so far away, but now…

Now anything is possible.

“Please, let me in. Please can we talk?” He is pleading, and you hear it, how desperate he is, and fuck if you were stupid you would let him, but you must become stronger. You can never, ever trust this man.

“No.” You hope your voice sounds more firm than you feel.

“Please, can I just… explain myself!? Please! I have not done anything since that day, could you just… fucking talk to me?” He’s slamming a hand on the door, resting his head, and you want so badly to let him in, fuck. You cannot fall for this.

You take a breath. “No thanks. Don’t care to hear. Good night Duke.” You hear his footsteps fade away, and you take several breaths, tilting your head as you see the small glimmer of hope. “Mrs. Nanami, hmm… I quite like that sound.” You whisper to yourself, picturing it.

A beautiful bride, a handsome husband, happiness, there would be no Nanami Kento fingering a maid in the gardens, there would be no Nanami Kento smacking you and downing you on your wedding night, and you sobbing on the cold marble floor of your room, alone.

No, he would adore you.

You hear Satoru slamming his own door to his bedchamber, you hear things flinging against the wooden walls, tentatively walking to where your walls connect, placing your forehead on it. You hear him then, cursing, and it breaks you when you hear pieces and words, wishing your stupid heart did not feel bad, wishing you were not so caring, so kind.

“Worthless… why can’t I… why did I… she’s not her… she’s in love… I can’t do this… fucking hell…” It’s a long time before he settles, and you choke on your own quiet sobs, wishing this stupid man could have not caused this. Somewhere deep in this evil manwhore is a tortured fucking soul, one you recognize, because you are also one, just wrapped in a pretty bow.

You find yourself sobbing right with him, wishing more than anything there was not this foolish barrier of his own making, that Satoru Gojo did not push everything away, and suffers alone. But you also suffer right along with him, struggling to swipe your tears away and laying in your bed, curled into a little ball, as you wonder at what a different life would be.

One where he just had tried.

That night you feel his presence again, feel Gojo’s long fingers caressing your cheek as you sleep, and for once you don’t pretend, you grab his wrist, opening your eyes and blinking in the dark. He gasps, tensing as he’s hovered over you, with his face too perfect to exist, so beautiful it makes you ache, makes you wish his soul was half that pretty.

But his soul was cold, dark, he was cold, dark, an icy pond that you’d be tempted to skate on, only to fall through the cracks, and lose your breath. And you feel his breath, blowing back your baby hairs on your forehead gently, as his blue eyes glitter even in the dark, the moonlight casting shadows on the sharp planes of his face.

“Why do you come here at night?” You ask finally, and he gulps, unmoving, lips parted but saying nothing. You scoff. “Of course, when will you answer anything.”

“I come here because you look like an angel in your sleep.” He says hoarsely, and you suck in a breath at that, as you hear his vulnerability, his thumb stroking the apple of your cheek. “I can forget how much I have hurt you, you look peaceful, I can… pretend.”

“I…” You don’t know how to answer, letting go of his wrist then, leaning up and clearing your throat. “I do not understand you.”

“I do not understand myself.” He says, sitting on your bed at the edge, but far too close, you can feel the heat of his body as you study him, his dark circles so prominent on his pale skin.

“Are you not sleeping well?” You ask then, sitting up and scooching back, feeling your cool silk pillows over your thin night shift. He laughs without humor.

“No, I’m not sleeping at all.” Satoru rakes a hand through his snow white hair, messier than it usually is. He has stubble you’ve never seen as well, his cheeks just a little hollowed.

“Maybe you miss your whores?” You ask, raising a brow, and he snorts, rolling his pretty blue eyes.

“Indeed, you seem to be the one fucking now, I have no time. I have too much to try to fix.”

“Ah, your father’s mess?”

“You know?”

“Just a bit. Seems he tripled the taxes in the villages.” Satoru nods, then looks at you carefully. “What is it?”

“A proposition.”

Your turn to snort. “What sort of proposition?”

“Not sex, do not worry. You have enough sex I’m sure, with your… Kento is his name, hmm?” You absentmindedly touch that necklace, and Satoru’s eyes dart to it curiously. “Do you like it, sex?”

You laugh at that, shaking your head and leaning up. “We are speaking of sex with each other?”

“Why not, we’re not together, we never will be. Perhaps we could at least not hate each other at the end of this?” You blink a bit in shock, leaning back.

“You will always hate me.” You whisper, the words like vitriol in your throat, and Satoru sighs, looking away, rubbing the back of his neck, his lips open and close, then repeating the action, making your mind run, what exactly was he thinking, and why were you still intrigued.

“I am trying not to hate you.” His words are soft, and just confusing. “I've been trying to avoid having another woman while we’re still together here, since that night, I know it was hurtful to you…”

You glare as you remember it, his nasty words, his slaps… his kiss, fuck you wish you remembered th… “The night you fucked the ‘entire brothel’ you mean?”

“Two women.”

“Oh, only two!”

He glares. “Insolent brat. Will you let me finish?”

You sigh. “Fine then.

“I  was hurt that you seem to not want me, not one bit, do you? You wanted another man.” He bites out the words carefully, as you hear that hurt in his voice, the voice that had been so tortured.

You glare. “And you want other women.”

“I should have understood what you did, I pushed you there.” His voice breaks, vulnerable, as his fists clench and unclench. “I thought I could fix everything in one goddamn day, but you were already gone.”

“I was never here, really, you never let me be.” You’re struggling to keep in your emotions in the quiet night, but Gojo has tears trailing down his face, as he leans close, and you stop him. “Do not kiss me.”

“I was not going to. Just…” He brushes your hair back, touching your cheek gently, and you shiver, at how that touch alone ruins you, as he runs a thumb along your lower lip, eyes staring so intensely you feel them like a touch. “Of course anyone would want you, I was the one who denied you your marital rights. Of course you want an annulment. Who would want to be with me?”

You frown then, as his long white lashes lower. “All I know is your cruelty, Duke Gojo. I know nothing but that you did not want me.”

“But it was all a lie. All of it. I… it matters naught, I imagine this… Kento makes you happy, pleased?” You nod, and he fingers the little charm, flipping it over and then looking back at you. “Does he cum in you?”

“What!?” You smack his hand, glaring. “Do you cum in your mistresses?”

“Fuck no. I don’t want brats.” You sigh, rolling your eyes.

“That is about what I expected. Even when you marry a woman you love, and not me?” You ask, and he shakes his head.

“I will not have children, it’s best this way. I would not be a good father.” Your heart breaks then, for this cruel man, for this messy, fucked up Duke who you should not even speak to.

“Why do you think that?” You ask then, softly, and he smirks just a bit, brushing his fingers along your collarbone, goosebumps raising up, your nipples taut in the sheer gown, apparent more and more with your quick breaths. He notices, clearly, licking a full lower lip, as you tense, but he does not do more, his jaw locks.

“I am afraid I’d be like my father. I look just like him. They say I even act like him, and maybe I do.” You wonder then, what his father has done, but you should not care, it’s no excuse for him, none.

Why do you care?

“I will never talk to my child as my mother does.” You say softly, and he smiles a bit, dropping his hand, now resting on your thigh over a soft blanket.

“I know you would not.”

“Thus, we do not become our parents, but it’s ultimately up to you if you want children, it does not have anything to do with me. Well, it won’t soon.”

He blinks through more emotion, and fuck you just want to hug him, hold him, and how can you want this, how can you!? What is this lingering feeling squeezing your heart like a vise, ruining your goddamn soul? Why can you feel the very breath being sucked out of your lungs as you study this cold, broken, beautiful man.

“You are too kind, you know. Even when you’re nasty and use your tongue to whip those cruel comments, you’re still kind.” You bite your lower lip, brows drawing together as he studies you. “I suppose I have no right to ask about sex, I just would not like a child, especially another man.”

“He does not cum in me.” You say then, flushed, as you watch his fists clench on your blankets. “He cums on me.”

“On you? Ah.” He clears his throat, as you have the most awkward conversation you can imagine, talking to your husband about your lover. “And you cum?”

You’re blushing furiously, brushing your hair back, as you feel heat rising between your thighs. “Yes, I do.”

“During sex?”

“Yes.”

“Well at least you’re getting fucked properly.” You giggle then, at the ridiculous nature of this, and he looks at you with narrowed eyes.

“What do you care if I am? It would still be me getting fucked.”

“And how much do you cum?”

You roll your eyes. “During sex? Once or twice. The first time… it hurt a bit. Now it’s much more pleasurable.”

“Once or twice.” He smirks then, eyes drifting down your body slowly, and you clear your throat, blush back in full force as he assesses you. “That’s good for foreplay, but I try to have my women cumming until they can’t function.”

You gulp, throat dry now, fiddling with the bow on your bodice. “Kento is a caring, gentle lover to me. He cares about my pleasure.”

“Yes, well.” He leans forward, until your noses almost touch, and you inhale Satoru’s sweet scent, feel his cool breath on your overheated lips. “You’ll not find out, but I am not gentle, I fuck and I fuck hard. I’d fuck the shit out of you, beat that pretty pussy up till it’s a puffy mess, have your knees so weak you collapse.”

You say nothing, your heart pounding in your chest, as vivid images fill your addled brain, and all you can whisper is - “Ah.”

He chuckles just a bit, running his fingers up and down your cheek again. “Want to know why I really haven’t fucked anyone since the night you told me?”

“Why?” You whisper, eyes darting to his lips, struggling to keep your composure, where is your composure?

“Because I can’t cum, they can’t get me off, not when it’s you in my head, even knowing you’re fucking him, I’d choose you over anyone. And I hate it.” He speaks through gritted teeth, pulling your hair gently then, and you can’t stop the pathetic whine, and oh he notices.

“Why can’t you cum? You could before?”

“I haven’t been able to finish since you dripped down my mouth.”

“You could lick someone else?”

“I have.” You hate the lurch in your stomach. “It’s not special anymore, I suppose, thought I’d try it out. But it did nothing for me. Suppose the brothel workers enjoyed.”

“You are skilled.” He smirks again and you glare. “Somewhat.”

“Somewhat indeed. But no, Princess, I wouldn’t take it easy, especially now that you’re not a virgin, I’d have your legs in the air, fucking you so deep I bruise your insides, so deep I’m everywhere.” He says softly, as if he’s saying something sweet and not lewd, not ridiculous. You shiver as you feel that ache for him, the one that never goes away, the one you despise.

“I did not see you go so rough with your mistresses.” You say, and he grins fully now, with his sharp teeth.

“I said with you. I’d take out my anger on that perfect, tight little cunt, I’d fucking ruin you for him, until you’re crying pretty tears, covered in my cum, covered in bite marks, ass bruised from my smacks.” You have no clue what he means, but you’re fucking wet, hot and sticky, and his eyes lower as if the mother fucker could tell. “You’ll not have to find out, no worries.”

“Indeed.” Your voice breaks, and you clear your throat. “I very much enjoy my lover, I will not stop seeing him.”

“Here’s the proposition. You will stop fucking him just until we’re not together, and I also will see no women.”

“What, I do not believe you!”

“You have my word.”

“Why do I care!?”

“Because, I will give you the full dowry back, and agree to the annulment.” You gasp at that, looking at him wide eyed. “I never wanted it. Give it to your children you have with your baker.”

“I… that’s so generous?” You whisper, and Satoru shrugs.

“I’m rich enough. I’ll agree to it in a month’s time, but I need you to make appearances at the villages with me, help me make it right. You’re a lot kinder, and so loved by people, they will listen to you. If you can… pretend as we have been, a little longer, I will sign it with no issues, and even tell our families it’s our decision.”

“You only want me to help you?”

“Yes, I cannot do it alone, and… even if you’ll be gone soon, it would help me tremendously. Also, if I can make some amends to the horrible man I’ve been, and perhaps help you get rid of me, let you be happy…” He touches that gold necklace, and your heart is racing so hard you think it will just jump out. “Let you have children, have a smile on your face.”

“Why!? Why couldn’t you have been this way before!” You say then, so goddamn frustrated, and he frowns, looking away, locking up. Of course he is. “Why could you have not tried! Was I so terrible at first?”

“You were nothing but perfect. It’s all on me.” He clears his throat, leaning close, as you lean back, and he smiles sadly.

“So why no Nanami?”

“Just… please, give me that one thing. And you’ll be free soon to be with him as much as you want.” He says then, and you sigh, thinking of how you will explain this to Nanami, who was already so… possessive. What would this do to him?

But this was a good idea, and you could be free to marry him, to move on, and have enough money to take care of any children. And Satoru helping you with both of your parents was invaluable. All to just pretend for a bit, and you do not mind helping the village or it’s inhabitants.

“I’ll do it.” You say then, holding your hand out for a shake, and he takes it, smiling a bit, the corner of his lips quirking, as he brings it to his lips, shocking you, Satoru was no gentleman.

“I do not deserve your kindness, but it’s appreciated. I should… leave you to your sleep.” You want to pull him to you, you want to kiss his pretty lips, as you sit there, eyes wide as you look at him, as he stands, and your hand still grip his. “What, you want a demonstration of how I’d ruin you for anyone?”

“No, you dick!” You scowl, smacking him then, and he’s chuckling, that devious grin far too attractive.

“Your nipples lie every time.”

“I’m cold, being around such a cold man.” You say, crossing your arms over your breasts, only for him to lean down, pressing his full lips to your cheek, then your jaw, then your ear. You hate how your head falls back, how your cunt throbs from just that around nothing, how you bite your lip so hard.

“Oh Princess, I am actually… burning hot. Burning for you.” You cry out, shaking your head, and he sighs, hand cupping your face, tilting your chin up to stare at him in the night. “I do burn for you, but you don’t want me, and I don’t blame you. I will let you be, once I get some progress done. I can keep to myself.”

“I… oh. Um. All right.” You say then, raising your brows as he pecks a sweet kiss on you temple. “How can I trust you’re not lying?”

“You cannot take my word I am sure, but I will honor the deal. In a month’s time you can be free of me.” The pain in his voice almost breaks you, but you nod, trying to suck up your emotions. “We have an accord, Princess?”

“We have an accord, Duke.”

“Seal it with a kiss?”

“No!” He’s chuckling, ruffling your hair as he stands then, heading toward the door, and every part of your stupid body is begging him to come back, so you shove it down hard. But… “Duke Gojo?”

He turns at the door, eyes dark from the shadows, but you feel it, his desire mirroring yours, but it’s stupid, and foolish, and what’s it matter!? So what if he’s not a whore for a moment, he would soon not be yours, and you not his, and you both could live your lives.

It was ideal.

“Um, good night.” You mumble, unsure why you stopped him in the first place, and you watch his face soften, before hardening a bit, lips in a firm line.

“Good night, Princess.” It sounds too good coming from Satoru Gojo’s lips, and you wish you could not enjoy them so much, could ignore everything this man does to you. Are you stupid to believe him? “I swear, I will keep my word.” He cuts off your thoughts, as if he read them yourself, and you give him a little nod, pulling your comforter over yourself, shivering in the chill of the room.

“I will believe you and keep our agreement.” You say softly, and he nods a bit, eyes lingering, then he leaves, shutting your door with a quiet click.

What was that?

What were you thinking?

But somehow, you feel he was being sincere, for once, and you want to trust him, that he was sincere, that somewhere in there was a decent human being. He wanted to help others, and perhaps you could leave this with less hatred and pain in your heart, but there is one looming thought beating you senseless, ruining your mind, your heart, your soul.

That if you spend time with Satoru, your feelings will develop beyond whatever insane passion you feel, and you cannot open up to him, you must comparmentalize it, see it as a partnership, so you can both be free. It’s what he wanted, right, to not be with you?

She’s not her.

I’m trying not to hate you.

I should hate you.

You’re just like-

Who was she? It’s a thought that keeps you up for some time, until you finally fade into a restless sleep, one where you dream of Nanami, and his heart broken over you, because you’ve hurt him again. And you’re left alone, on the side of the cobblestone streets, having destroyed everything.

You wake up in a cold sweat, walking over to your little pedestal sink, rinsing your face carefully, looking in the mirror, and you start to wonder, who are you? You’re not that girl you were when you got here, and you can barely remember who she was anymore, so consumed by Satoru Gojo and now Nanami Kento.

You lean over the sink, feeling sick, as your hands touch the mirror of your looking glass, and your head rests upon it. You picture Satoru’s arms around you, picture him fucking you like he said, rough and brutal, perhaps choking you, smacking you, until you can’t walk.

You see it, you feel it, brutal grip and his huge cock, as he’s got those long fingers wrapped around your throat, only to punch the mirror angrily, only serving to hurt your own fist. You shake it, cursing yourself as you hold your hand to you, as you feel the anguish take you over.

Who are you?

Until the next, dear masochistic readers <3

Part Nine

[janeyseymour]

Love Languages

Summary: You're the music teacher at Abbott Elementary, and you find that Melissa Schemmenti's love language may be not-so-gentle bullying- in Italian.

WC: ~2.8k

After accepting a music teaching position in one of the rougher areas in the greater Philadelphia area, it’s safe to say that you aren’t quite sure what’s going to be coming your way. Still, you persevere and head into Willard R. Abbott Elementary School’s professional development week with a smile and your bright and sunny disposition. The only way that you think you can make it as a teacher in a less affluent area with harder backgrounds than what you’re used to is to remain as positive as possible.

You quickly learn that there are about two teachers in the school who attempt to stay as positive as you when you walk into the library for your first meeting of the school year: Janine Teagues and Jacob Hill. The rest of the teachers are older and a bit more seasoned- jaded and attuned to the situation that you’re all in. It’s an underfunded school with students who don’t necessarily come from money with a principal who can poorly manage the building at times. 

Still, as the meeting drags on (you feel like you don’t actually know what you’re walking into; most of the presentation has been pictures of Ava during her vacation this summer), you attempt to stay focused. Eventually, the topic shifts into more educational topics, and you take down a few notes despite the fact that benchmarks and other state mandated tests are not a part of your curriculum. And at some point towards the end, the principal introduces you to the rest of the staff.

“She our new music teacher,” Ava tells your new coworkers. “Don’t go scarin’ her off the way you scared off White, you hear?” She actively points at one teacher in particular with her perfectly manicured nails. “Schemmenti, I’m talkin’ to you.”

Your eyes follow the direction of Ava’s hand, and sitting there is a beautiful redhead who looks like she hasn’t been paying attention to these staff meetings for the last seven years. Striking green eyes are rolled, and Schemmenti scoffs.

At lunch, you’re just trying to heat up your meal when you’re practically bombarded by the two younger teachers who still seem to have a childlike wonder to them.

“You should sit with us so we can get to know you!” Janine smiles. She had already introduced herself and Jacob to you earlier in the day, and it’s quite clear she’s taken with your bright, yet somewhat shy, personality.

“And why would she do that, pipsqueak?” you hear a low voice growl. “I thought we had our group pretty filled out- and that was before Greg even wormed his way in.”

Your eyes search for who that voice belongs to, and it’s none other than the redhead from earlier. Damn- it’s sexy the way she speaks.

“Because, Melissa,” Janine gestures wildly. “It’s important that she feels comfortable at this school! I want her to feel just as welcome as I did my first few days here.”

“I didn’t do nothin’ to try to make you feel welcome,” Melissa states. “And I ain’t goin’ out of my way to be nice to someone who’s just going to leave us in a few days anyway.” Then she turns to look at you. “Ain’t that right, newbie?”

“I guess you’ll have to wait and find out,” you quip as the microwave signals that your food is finished. You smile at the group warmly before sighing. “While I do appreciate the invite, I have a few things I still need to set up in my room and get together. Have a nice day though!”

You exit, but not before you hear Melissa grumbling, “She’s just another leccaculo. Ass kisser.”

You aren’t, but you suppose that she doesn’t know you yet, so you let it slide and silently head off to your classroom to pour over lesson plans while you eat your meal.

That’s only the first time she calls you that. As time goes on, she gets more confident and starts insulting you in Italian to your face. The first time she has the courage to call you a leccaculo directly, you have to bite back a laugh. She has no idea you know what she’s saying- you had taken Italian all throughout high school and studied abroad in college.

“I’m not an ass kisser,” you chuckle, and your laughter only grows when emerald eyes widen with realization that you understand her. “But thanks anyway.”

She calls you a myriad of other insults in Italian as the days pass by, whether it be in the staff room or while she’s dropping off or picking her kids up from music. Occasionally, it’s when you have the unfortunate lunch duty, and she does too. And each time she does it, you just roll your eyes playfully and laugh before letting her know you know the translation, refuting her claim, and thanking her.

It almost becomes like a bit of yours- and inside joke to a certain degree. Sure, she calls the others Italian insults from time to time, but yours seem to be almost daily, if not every day. And you’re the only one who actually knows what she’s saying, which makes it all the more hilarious.

It’s not like you really mind either. It’s quite entertaining to you to see that even when she starts to switch to Sicilian slang, you know what she’s saying. It’s keeping the language alive in your mind.

“Don’t you care that she says all that stuff to you?” Janine asks you one day after Melissa has left the staff lounge.

You shrug. “It doesn’t phase me.”

“But you know what she’s saying to you,” the second grade teacher reminds you. “And it’s never nice.”

“I do,” you chuckle. “Listen, I know she’s mean, and she’s rude, but her voice is so lovely. I’d listen to her call me names all day. And I do. Even at home.”

“At home?” Janine gives you a look that tells you she’s clearly confused, but you just shrug her off with a smile. 

“I live like… seven doors down from her. When I go on my walks after school, she’s pulling into her driveway just in time to throw an insult my way. And why should I dwell on it when I know at this point, she doesn’t mean what she’s saying? She just likes speaking her language and having someone who understands what she’s saying.”

And with that, you exit the staff room to head to the bathroom before your whirlwind of an afternoon starts. 

To a degree, you’re right. The fiery Italian second grade teacher loves that she can speak in the language she used to talk in growing up. Someone finally understands what she’s saying. It’s nostalgic. But at this point, Melissa just likes hearing your voice. She likes to see that dumb smirk that you give her as you reveal that you know exactly what she was calling you, before it melts away into that bright smile of yours. Melissa Schemmenti realizes that she just might have some feelings for you.

Once she has that revelation though, she doesn’t change what she does. If anything, she lays them on a little thicker, challenging you to fight her back or tell her she’s gone too far with a few of her insults. But of course, you’re a champion and you can only laugh at some of the insanely creative insults she comes up with in a foreign language.

“You have quite the imagination when it comes to what you choose to say,” you chuckle as she hurls one at you while picking her students up. “I am indeed not… that, but thank you.”

She’s about to say something else while her students wait for her at the corner of the hall, but then Barbara is coming down with her students, and you’re forced to turn your brain back on to work with kindergarteners.

“Well, Miss Schemmenti,” you smirk. “I can’t wait to see what you come up with next.”

“Neither can I, Cagacazzo.” The redhead chuckles.

“Not that either,” you playfully roll your eyes before turning to the kindergarten teacher. “Why, hello Mrs. Howard!”

“Hello dear,” Barbara greets you warmly, a hand stretching out to gently squeeze your arm. “How are you today?”

“I’m wonderful,” you smile. “But I think my day is about to get better, now that I have your kiddos.”

“I do hope they behave for you,” Barb tells you, although she gives a few of her more rowdy students a pointed look.

“They always do,” you assure her sweetly. Only then do you realize that Melissa is still standing there. “Miss Schemmenti? You there?” you tease.

The redhead begins to flounder for words, but Barbara steps in to save her. “Melissa and I were going to chat on our ways back to the classrooms, dear. Don’t mind her.”

In all truth, the second grade teacher just loves how your voice sounds. It’s amazing the way that you can switch from a lower register in your vocals while teasing her and bantering with her before raising your pitch and sounding like an angel to speak with Barbara and her students.

The two head off once you explain to the small class what they’re to do upon entering your classroom and ushering them in. 

The pair is a few paces away when Barbara leans in and quietly whispers, “Girl, you have it bad for Y/N.”

“I do not,” Melissa grumbles her denial as she gestures for her students to continue on down the hallway.

“Don’t act like you don’t,” the kindergarten teacher hums. “I see the way you look at her, mmm, yes.”

“You’re crazy.”

“Not as crazy as you are if you don’t notice that you want to court the music teacher,” Barbara chuckles lowly as she turns into her own classroom.

“Barb!” Melissa rolls her eyes. “I don’t know how many times I have to tell you, this ain’t Bridgerton!”

“It may not be,” the kindergarten teacher quips. “But I know what my eyes see!”

“Sei pazza,” Melissa calls back as she too enters her room. “Crazy!”

Barbara Howard is a lot of things, but crazy isn’t one of them. And both veteran teachers at the school know it. 

A few weeks pass, and the routine that you find yourself in with the redhead continues on as usual. The routines that you find yourself in with the others soldiers on. Melissa is snarky and hard to read, often times brushing you off. You still allow her to insult you with a smile and a laugh, refuting every name that she calls you. You settle into easy conversation with the others at lunch, always excited to hear what they’re doing in their classrooms that week, or to just converse about whatever could be going on in their minds at that moment.

You find that you quite enjoy having this odd little group as your work family. You’re not quite sure how you managed to weasel yourself into their very tight knit group, but you aren’t complaining. It makes working at Abbott a lot easier than when you were working in a school where homeroom teachers essentially told you that you weren’t a real teacher. How they could treat you like that baffled you then, and it baffles you to this day. You’re just thankful you got out of there and are now being appreciated at your new place of employment.

“Have a nice weekend,” you tell your colleagues as you go to leave the staff room. You smile brightly and wave at them before smirking. “And no, Melissa, I am not whatever you were going to call me this time.”

“Damn, taking my fun away,” the redhead grumbles. “I’ll just save it for when you’re on your walk later.”

You actually don’t see the redhead pulling in while you’re on your daily after school walk to decompress. Her car isn’t in the driveway either, so you know she isn’t home. It’s odd, sure, but once you’ve passed, you don’t think much else of it.

The weekend is here, and you thank goodness for that. The kids have been amped up what with the holiday season about to kick off with Halloween before leading into November and December. 

Once you return from your walk, you’re showered and changed into sweatpants, takeout is ordered and eaten; you’ve allowed yourself to indulge after the hectic week. You have no plans other than to curl up with a glass of wine and a good book. If you drink enough, you may just end up at the keyboard that you have set up, or perhaps you’ll bring out the guitar that sits in the corner of your living room. But you know one thing for sure: you are not leaving the comfort of your own home.

You’re about two-thirds of the way through your small bottle of wine and getting a bit restless laying on the couch with your book. You sigh softly as you put your bookmark in place and stand to head for the keyboard when your phone lights up.

Melissa Schemmenti is calling you? It’s… you glance at the clock on your wall. It’s nearing eleven. Why is she calling you?

“Melissa?” you answer, clearly confused.

“I- I don’t know why I called. Sorry. Have a good night,” the redhead’s voice crackles through the phone. And even though you aren’t with her, and you really have no idea why she’s calling this late at night, you can sense that there’s something off with her. She doesn’t have the same bit that she usually does- she almost sounds… scared?

But before you can react, the call disconnects. You shoot her a text asking if everything is alright, and when five minutes go by without a reply, you run a tired hand over your face before pulling your shoes on.

You’ve never really noticed how eery the area that you reside in is at night. You’re rarely out this late, and when you are, you aren’t walking the streets. Still, you head in the direction of the redhead’s house. It doesn’t take you long. Once you’re at her front door, you take a fortifying breath before knocking gently.

You shouldn’t be shocked when she opens the door wielding a weapon: her precious baseball bat.

“Seriously?” you ask. “I knocked so gently, how could you think someone was trying to hurt you?”

“I never know,” Melissa answers. “I bet you’re an idiota who answers the door without a bat, aren’t you?”

You chuckle softly. “I am not an idiot, but I can say with confidence that I don’t have a baseball bat with me when I open the door.”

“Well, you should,” the redhead counters. “Why are you here?”

“Melissa, you called me at eleven at night sounding terrified and then didn’t answer my text. I do care about you. you know. I wanted to make sure you were okay,” you tell her as she sets down her baseball bat.

Your coworker hums gently. “I thought you were barely tolerating me this whole time. I mean, I’ve seen how you are with the others- and I’m not like that. I can’t be like that, even if I wanted to.”

“I know,” you smile softly. “You’re not easy to know, and you make it hard to like you sometimes. But I’ve always liked a challenge, and sometimes you have to meet people at their own pace.”

“But I didn’t expect you to come all the way out here. I wasn’t thinking; I just woke up scared and calling you was the first thing I could do. You didn’t need to check up on me.” Melissa welcomes you into her house.

“No,” you sigh as you make your way into her house. “But I wanted to. Thank you for letting me in.”

“You’re thanking me for letting you into my house?” the redhead quirks a brow.

You chuckle. “Well, that. But also for letting me in and past your rough exterior. You’re finally starting to meet me halfway.”

The redhead just rolls her eyes. “Just because I called you in a moment of weakness doesn’t mean I don’t still think you’re a barbone.”

“I can’t be a bum,” you smile cheekily. “I have a job, a house, and I came all this way to check on you in the middle of the night.”

“Only an idiota would venture out at eleven at night without a baseball bat,” Melissa counters. “You know I ain’t letting you walk home alone now. So, how about a glass of wine, and maybe a movie before I shove you in my guest room for the night?”

It only occurs to you after you wake up the next morning (on the couch, with Melissa using your chest for a pillow), that she could’ve just driven you home.

Tags

 (and let me know if you want to be included!): @schemmentis @thesapphictimelady @marvel210 @itisdoctortoyousir @morgana-larkin @doesthatsuggestanythingtoyou @sweetcheeksschemmenti @megamultifandomtrashposts @lemz378 @http-sam @melissaschemmentisbranzino @imaginesmultifandoms @sexysapphicshopowner @lilfartbox1 @maybe-a-humanbean @imlike-so-gaydude @a-queen-and-her-throne @notinmyvocab @melanielaufeyson @dvrkhcld @cosmichymns @sasheemo @m1lflov3rrr @ricejucie @temilyrights @emilynissangtr @squinnchy @dopenightmaretyphoon @emeraldoceansstuff @shinyfaerielights  @blkmxrvel @marvelwomenrule @sarahjohannson @casualfoxwitch @babytakeittothehead @schemmentits

[woso-dreamzzz]

Finally

Natalia Guijarro (OC) x Hardersson!Reader

Part of The Big Adventures Universe

Summary: The pining is finally over

There's a hand on your waist.

You've been in Spain for nearly two months now. You've completed preseason and played your first two matches for Barcelona.

You've gotten used to Natalia and her touchiness. In her home country, she's more touchy than she ever was out of it. It's natural to have her skin against yours, holding you tightly.

You're used to her hand on your waist.

But it's not her hand on your waist right now.

The game earlier was a good one. A clean sheet for you and a seven goal win for the rest of the team. You don't know who it was but someone had floated the idea of going to the club.

You'd tried to wiggle out of it. You avoided clubs like the plague when you could. The music, the drinks, the too little space had you feeling boxed in and nervous but somehow you had been convinced.

Which was why you were sulking at the bar all night, trying to make yourself look as small as possible, which was quite a difficult task.

Natalia had been by your side all night, hyperaware of how this was absolutely not your scene. She'd held you like you love to be held and whispered straight in your ear so you could hear her over the music.

Every shift of her body had goose bumps erupting down your body and you wish for her presence now as someone else reaches to touch your waist.

"I recognise you," This newcomer says," You play for Barcelona, right?"

There's an edge to her voice that you can't place and she looks up at you from under her lashes. Her fingers gently dance up and down your waist.

You don't like it.

It doesn't feel like how Natalia touches you and you don't like it at all.

Talia disappeared off to the toilet a few minutes ago, promising that it would only take a second.

A second was all it took for this new girl to come up to you.

"Er...yes..."

She giggles like you've said something funny but you don't think you have. She steps further into your space and you wonder if it's impolite to back up a few paces.

It's different in Spain to Sweden. You wonder if everyone is as touchy as Natalia is, even if it's toward a complete stranger.

"I'm a big fan," The girl is practically purring, her voice dropping low and you have to crane your head down closer to hear her over the heavy bass of the music.

Her hand skates up to your bicep, squeezing the muscle there.

"You're so strong," She says, trailing her finger up and down your arm," What are you drinking? Can I buy you a drink?"

People in Spain are very friendly, you think and you look down at your glass.

"I've just got a coke."

She pouts, batting her eyes at you as she somehow steps even closer. "Just a coke? You've just come out of a big win. Don't you want to let loose a little?"

You let out a few awkward chuckles, eyes darting around desperately in search of Natalia. "I don't drink during the season."

"That's so disciplined. You're so disciplined, so in control of yourself. Are you always so in control of yourself?"

Somehow, she's pressed herself against you. Your chests are pushed together as she looks at you, a half-smirk present on your face. You don't like this at all but she's Spanish so you assume it's another one of those cultural things that confuse you.

You don't want to shove her away and be impolite but you don't want her touching you anymore, skin crawling.

A hand lands on your waist again but you recognise it this time.

Natalia hooks her chin over your shoulder and stares down at this new girl.

"Can we help you?"

The girl moves to speak, to say what you don't know but it's clear that Natalia doesn't care because she gently nudges you to move.

You relocate closer to the doors and Talia keeps glancing over at the other girl, face set firmly into a frown.

"Why did you let her do that?" She asks, her eyes not straying away from the girl at the bar," Touch you like that? Touch you like how I touch you?"

"She was just being friendly," You say. Your brow furrows and you're sure that your little crinkle has appeared.

Natalia scoffs, swirling her drink around angrily in her glass. "She wasn't being friendly. She was flirting." She spits out the last word like it personally offends her.

"She was?"

Finally, Talia cuts her gaze to you. Her features soften slightly as she looks at you. She downs her drink in one go. "You're so oblivious," She says. The words are soft and low and barely audible over the loud music but you still hear them perfectly.

"What?"

Talia's looking at you in disbelief, shaking her head before she's got your waist in her hands and she's pulling you closer until her lips ghost your ear.

"You're so oblivious. I couldn't believe it at first but it's true. There's so many girls trying to throw themselves at you. That girl from earlier, girls at matches. They touch you in ways that aren't friendly and you jump through hoops trying to convince yourself it's platonic. You're so oblivious."

Ever so slightly, her hands tighten on your waist and she pulls back to look at you.

She isn't that much taller than you so you're practically at eye level as she stares.

Her eyes flick from your gaze down to your lips and then back up at your eyes again.

That's when everything comes crashing into you.

All those hugs, those private 'friend' dates to coffee shops and restaurants, those naps you took on her sofa together.

"You don't even know," Talia continues, like she doesn't even care about the bomb she's just dropped on you," I think that's even worse. You can't even let them down easy but you just don't know. It's infuriating."

Your heart's in your throat or, maybe, it's in Natalia's hands because you can't tear your eyes away from her.

She's still holding your waist, her hands familiar and welcome. Her gaze is hypnotic and your chests rise and fall in sync with each other.

"Natalia-" You say before breaking off. Your eyes dip down to her lips, barely even a glance but you know she catches you looking. "Talia...I...I think I'm in-"

"I know."

She kisses you like you're the only two people in the room. It's different to the kiss you shared as teenagers when you were scared and unsure.

Her lips mould against yours easily and everything else blends away until it's just you and her.

"Natalia," You breathe out when she pulls away," Do you...Do you want to go on a date with me?"

Talia laughs, pecking your lips. "Ask what you actually want to ask, mi vida. You will like the answer."

"Do you want to be my girlfriend?"

"Yes."

You go home with Talia in that moment, completely forgetting that you had told your mothers you would call tonight.

[hetalian-veteran]

The Draw of the Hetalia Fandom (and Why You Can Never Leave)

From the perspective of a fan of (technically) twelve years or so.

Something occurred to me a while back, and I wanted to share it to get other people's thoughts. I'll try to add funny pictures and gifs to break up the wall of text so it won't be as exhausting to read.

I made a post the other day about how the Hetalia fandom always draws you back in. This was, of course, based on the joke about how you can never really leave the Hetalia fandom. A joke you can find virtually everywhere you look in fan spaces online.

But this begs the question. Why? Why can't you ever truly leave the Hetalia fandom? What is it about this fandom that consistently draws you back in?

And note that people don't talk about Hetalia itself, but rather its fandom. You could stop watching the show or reading the comics for years, but the fandom is what won't fully leave you be.

(The Hetalia fandom every time you check to see if it's dead yet).

One answer I've heard has to do with the phenomenon known as Associative Memory, where you can learn and remember the relationship between unrelated items.

For example, you watch Hetalia, a series about the countries of the world personified as anime characters. These characters have their own personalities, traits, quirks, etc. And the more you watch the show and get into the fandom, the more you start to associate these things with one another.

For instance, someone can say the word Italy, and I'll start thinking about Feliciano Vargas. Or someone could say the name Matthew Williams, and I automatically associate that with Canada. Or I could see bushy eyebrows and immediately start thinking of APH England. Heck, someone starts talking about Vikings and my thoughts almost always go to the Viking Trio of Denmark, Norway, and Sweden. I could go on, but you get the idea.

And there's also the fact that we live in a world full of the countries that the show has personified characters of, which would in turn likely remind you of Hetalia.

But there's something more here going on. I've thought about it for a long while, and I think I've realized one of the biggest reasons why you can't fully leave the fandom.

It's because of how versatile the characters of the series can be in fan content. Allow me to explain.

(Me preparing to explain to everyone the epiphany that came to me one dark, stormy night).

Hetalia is a series with literally no plot. Like, zero. Some episodes may impact each other, but the overall series is episodic in nature. The only episodes you'd have to watch in order would be the ones going over the miniature love story between Chibitalia and HRE. And then there's the sequence of episodes going over the Industrial Revolution in season seven, and then the sequence of episodes explaining the relationship between Czechia and Slovakia. But that's it. And the Industrial Revolution and Czechia and Slovakia episodes aired in the latter seasons, long after the fandom was already very big and well established.

The episodes are largely adaptations from the original webcomic and thus are all a bunch of skits haphazardly thrown together. So I'll reiterate what I said earlier; there is no real, canonical plot to Hetalia. There are canon events and facts about canon characters, but seeing as the show is largely skits, they aren't tied down to any real narrative.

(The Hetalia fandom whenever they're given a piece of canon they don't like).

This leaves a lot of room for headcanons. Which leads to fans sharing their headcanons online. And when headcanons get super popular, they become fanon. And when a piece of fanon gets super popular, where it finds itself getting mingled with fanart, fanfiction, and even fan theories, you'll have people who start to confuse it with actual canon. There's really a lot to be said for the wild fanon of Hetalia, but I'll get to that another day. I need to turn the focus back onto the characters themselves.

I'm just gonna put it out there. The Hetalia characters are largely one-note. This isn't to say there isn't some depth to a few of the characters, but these characters are largely the epitome of "what you see is what you get." Especially in the early days of the series. The characters all have a set of straightforward, basic character traits, with their interpersonal relationships often being displayed in a very simplistic manner.

For example, Italy is a pasta-loving coward who's a massive flirt. Germany is strict and authoritative with a no-nonsense attitude. Japan is quiet and soft-spoken, only speaking up when he feels the need. America is a bombastic dork with a hero complex. England is an arrogant stick in the mud. France is a hopeless romantic who flirts with anything that has a pulse.

(Me taking a moment to pause and push away the cringy middle school memories of me shamelessly fangirling in class).

And as I said, their relationships are typically portrayed as simplistic as well. Italy annoys Germany, but Germany doesn't want to get rid of him because he's one of his only friends. England and France hate each other. America is that hyper-extroverted friend trying to get his introverted friend, Japan, out of his shell. Switzerland and Lichtenstein have a sweet sibling dynamic. And Prussia and Austria are portrayed as old friends who like to antagonize one another.

Because of the way the characters and their interpersonal relationships are written, this also lends them open to a lot of headcanons and eventual fanon. Not to mention that most of the characters have canon, human names. So if you want to use these characters in a fanfiction, particularly one where you don't want to depict them as countries (which is most fanfics), you have names at the ready that you can use.

And because of the simple way the characters are written, you can potentially write or portray these characters however you want in fanwork without too many people complaining that someone "isn't in character." There is so much room for your own interpretations of the characters. As long as you keep some of their basic personality traits from the series intact, you can portray the characters however you want. Especially because there's no real canonical storyline to drag them down. Because of the lack of canon storyline, you don't have to worry about fanworks being canon-compliant, canon-divergent, or canon-adjacent.

(Fanfic writers when they realize canon cannot stop them from creating whatever they want).

Do you want to portray Romano as the notorious mafia boss, Lovino Vargas, in the 1930s? Go ahead. As long as you can keep some of his cowardly and stubborn nature intact, you can do what you want with little trouble.

Do you want to portray England as the infamous pirate, Arthur Kirkland, in the 17th century? As long as you maintain his disdain for France, have at it!

Do you want to write a college AU with all of the characters present? As long as you keep in mind their personalities and have a basic understanding of their interpersonal relationships, have fun!

Now you're probably sitting there thinking, "Big deal, people can create all kinds of fanwork, regardless of what its content is, or what property it's for. What makes the Hetalia fandom so special?"

It's special because, since Hetalia is a series with almost zero canonical storylines, and the characters are portrayed in such a simplistic way, both of which lend their way to boatloads of headcanons and fanon, as well as small scraps of canon information that we can choose to either ignore or elaborate like crazy on...

Hetalia is a freaking goldmine for creating all kinds of fan content.

(Hetalians when creating the 2p! variations of the characters, probably).

So much fan content is out there. From creepypastas, to Hetaoni, Dreamtalia, the 2p! characters, historically accurate AU's, school AU's, and so, so much more. All because the canon is just loose enough to allow all kinds of fan content to be created and not seem too far off from the series or characters.

And that fan content ends up being way, way more fun than the actual series itself! Don't get me wrong, I still love the show, but I'd be lying if I said I didn't (or currently don't) have a freaking blast every time I engage with fan content. The creativity is insane, and the fanon is even more fun and entertaining.

The reason you cannot fully leave the Hetalia fandom isn't just because of Associative Memory, but because of the immense amount of fan content and fanon where, because of the nature of the series, you can do, write, draw, and create whatever you want. You can project onto these characters and their stories and interpret them to your own personal tastes. And you know what? That's a heck of a lot of fun.

And there you go, that's my two cents.

[tonyspep]

walkin' with his head down, i'm the one he's walking to

A/N: this is for the summer fic exchange!!! it started out as something completely different, but here we are. This is for the amazing @laurenairay I really hope you like it and that your summer is going well. This is my first time writing for Quinn Hughes so here's to trying something different. Quinn is so cute, so I hope I did him justice. This was inspired by “Call It What You Want” by Taylor Swift, which is so hurt/comfort to me. So here we are with Quinn being comforted after the game seven loss to the Oilers this year. thank you to @wyattjohnston for hosting this amazing exchange!!

Walkin' with his head down, i'm the one he's walkin' to

summary: the series didn't end the way you or quinn was hoping, but you weren't going to let him hang his head for too long

rating: t

i'm laughin' with my lover, makin' forts under covers

trust him like a brother, yeah, you know I did one thing right

starry eyes sparkin' up my darkest nights

“call it what you want” - by taylor swift

The final seconds ticked away and it was obvious this game wasn't going to end the way you or Quinn wanted it to. He and the rest of the Canucks gave the series everything they had, but McDavid and Draisaitl and company proved to be too much in the end. You felt Brock's girlfriend Bella wrap her arms around your middle, a soft sob escaping her as she rested her head against your back. It was hard for you not to cry, too. The boys had worked so hard to get to this point, they had fought all the way back to take the series lead, only to falter in the most important game and now the off season would be starting.

“I thought they had it,” Bella murmured and you could only nod. You really believed this year was going to be their year. They won the Pacific Divison. They beat the Preadators 4-2 and had home ice advantage in this series, which you knew would be tough, but still..

A tear couldn't help but trickle down your cheek. They had all the pieces to go far, maybe even all the way, and instead they would be packing up their lockers, doing exit interviews and the summer would be starting earlier than any of you anticipated.

“Me, too, Bells,” You agreed with the blonde who had become your best friend since you started dating Quinn just a little over a year ago. The two of you hugged each other tight, watching as the fans made their way out of the arena. You separated from each other after giving each other a kiss on the cheek and went down the steps to the locker room.

Everything seemed to be happening in slow motion as you waited for Quinn to appear. Out came Elias, skull cap pulled over his buzzed blonde hair, flashing you just a brief smile before his handsome face transformed into more of a grimace. JT was not standing tall, but hunched until he was embraced by his family. Brock gave you the best grin he could muster, nothing like his usual sparkling grin that you had come to know almost as well as Quinn's soft smile.

Then came a familiar head of soft brown hair, longer than it was when you first met Quinn in the hallway of your shared apartment building in downtown Vancouver. His head was down, his shoulders slumped, like they were holding the weight of the world. Your heart couldn't help but break. You knew how hard Quinn had worked to get to this point, how he took on the burden of being Captain and how seriously he took the C on his chest. He didn't want the Cup for himself, he wanted it for Brock, for Elias, JT, Thatcher, for Coach Rick Tocchect. He was so selfless and put the team first above anything and everything else.

All you wanted to do was take his pain away, to put the bashfully sweet smile you knew so well back on his face.

“Hey, you,” Quinn gave a weak laugh and there was a hint of the smile you fell in love with on his lips, making your heart lift slightly. “You can really smile you know,” You tease, reaching for Quinn's hand. “I know this didn't go the way we wanted to, but if you don't smile I'll think you're not happy to see me,” You joke and Quinn does laugh, for real this time. “Y/N,” Quinn's voice is tender as he cups your cheek in his other hand. “I'm always happy to see you. If you weren't here right now, I'd be going home to a dark apartment to just sit on my couch and think about all the things I could have done better. Instead, I'm going home with you, which makes this easier than it would be otherwise.”

You flush from Quinn's words. You want this to be easier for him, to ease some of the weight he carries and you think you know just how to do it.

Quinn can see the wheels turning in your head, see the spark that's suddenly taken over your deep eyes. He arches a brow and you kiss his cheek, teasing, “Just wait. I know just how to make this not seem so bad, but you tell me if it's too much, okay? I just want to be here for you, however you want me to be, Quinny,”

His cheeks turn an adorable shade of pink, showing through the playoff beard he's grown. Your heart skips a beat; even a bit run down after a hard fought series, Quinn is still the cutest boy you've ever known. With his big sad puppy eyes, his soft mop of dark hair that curls over his ears, his pink lips and warmly handsome face.

“Relax,” You say as you unlock your shared apartment's front door. “Just sit on the couch, don't do anything except take off your shoes, take a shower if you want, change into something comfy but leave everything else to me, okay?”

Quinn chuckles to himself and gives a joking salute, “Yes ma'am, but there is one other thing I want to do before you do whatever it is you're going to do.”

You blink curiously as you tilt your head, wondering what this one thing could be and then Quinn is touching your cheek, so gently as he presses his lips against yours. This kiss is the sweetest, softest kiss you've ever experienced. You continue kissing each other softly, neither of you wanting to pull away as your fingers sink into Quinn's wonderfully soft, thick dark hair. He nips on your bottom lip, gently, making you moan his name as his other hand wraps around your waist, anchoring you to strong frame.

You break apart out of necessity and Quinn says, “Now I'll go relax and leave you to your surprise,” and you're so tempted to follow him, heat thrumming through your veins, want clouding your thoughts as your eyes follow Quinn until he disappears down the hall.

Somehow you resist the urge, remembering that this night is about Quinn, that even though the game ended in disappointing fashion, you weren't going to let the night end that way.

Flipping through your contacts, you find the one you were looking for and you can only hope you have all the ingredients for the recipe you're planning. Talking to Ellen Hughes feels so much like talking to your own Mom. Her warmth radiates from the other side of the phone as you facetime and you feel relieved that you do have all the ingredients for her famous Kugle, which is Quinn's favorite food.

You're not the best cook but Kugle is easier than you expected. You laugh with Ellen as she goes over the recipe step by step with you and after the casserole goes into the oven, you see Quinn standing in the doorway of the kitchen, looking adorably cozy in a t-shirt and plaid pajama pants.

“Is that my Mom?” He asks, his voice so childlike his big brown eyes lit up with hopefulness and Ellen answers for you saying, “Hi, Sweetie. Y/N just called me. I'm so sorry...” and you leave the kitchen, letting mother and son have this time together, knowing Quinn needs the comfort of his Mom now more than ever.

“You made Kugle,” Quinn's voice is full of wonder as you reappear in the kitchen after changing into something comfortable yourself. “Is that why you called my Mom? So you would know how to make it? I could have helped,” He huffed a little, a pout forming on his beautiful lips, which made you laugh. “I'm the only one of us that knows how to make it. Mom shared her secrets with me,” He's proud, his chest puffing a little and how did you get such a sweet guy to call her your own?

“If you made it that would defeat the purpose of you relaxing,” You shake your head as you and Quinn walk toward each other and share another kiss unable to resist each other.

While the Kugle continues baking, you reveal part two of your of your surprise. After changing into your comfiest outfit – a shirt that used to be Quinn's and a pair of well worn shorts – you set up a fort in the living room with all the blankets and pillows in the apartment. “A fort?” Quinn's eyes are bright like they should always be and you smile just as bright. “A fort,” You confirm. “Figured after tonight you could use something fun like a fort and something comforting like your Mom's Kugle,”

Quinn wraps his arms around you from behind, his chin resting on your shoulder. “I like the way you think,” He kisses your cheek and you blush.

Getting under the blankets, you fire up Disney Plus and land on Toy Story. You know Quinn as well as you know yourself after having been together for nearly two years now and you know how much he loves this movie. Just like if the roles were reversed, Quinn would know to put on Pretty Woman or Tangled.

The familiar credits start just as the oven dings and before Quinn can get up, you push his shoulder gently saying, “I don't think so, you stay right here,” and he knows better to argue with you, so he stays put, laughing as the toys in Andy's room start to move around, letting the audience in that they're alive.

“You're a Toy!” Quinn shouts along with Woody after the new spaceman toy “lands” in Andy's room and you laugh, getting in a few Bo Peep lines and Slinky moments as Quinn can't help but get in the Woody lines before they happen. It's no surprise the cowboy is your boyfriend's favorite and you can't help but remember your first Halloween together this year when you dressed as Woody and Bo Peep to the Canucks party.

You enjoy the Kugle even stealing some of Quinn's who says, “Hey,” and shields his plate from you.

You're snuggled up together as the last credits play, Quinn humming along with “You've Got A Friend In Me.” He kisses you on the forehead and sings in your ear, “Some other folks might be a little bit smarter than I am, bigger and stronger too, maybe but none of them will ever love you the way I do, it's me and you,”

You giggle sweetly as you finish the song with the familiar refrain, beaming up at Quinn, “Boy and as the years go by our friendship will never die. You're gonna see it's our destiny. You've got a friend in me. You've got a friend in me. You've got a friend in me,”

You kiss each other softly, your tongues meeting as your hands move over each other's bodies. Your foreheads come to rest against each other's, your breath coming in soft pants as you look lovingly at each other, Quinn's big hand on your back, his fingers moving over your spine as you sigh, “I love you so much, Quinn,”

His cheeks flush – even though you've been saying I love you for months, it still makes him blush, like he can't believe you love him, which is insane, how can he love you – and your heart flutters like always whenever you're under the stare of his warm brown eyes. “I love you, too. This was amazing; just what I needed after tonight,” He says softly, his voice so tender and honest.

In your fort it's like nothing can touch you here, like, what happened tonight – the devastating loss – didn't happen. You hope you've given Quinn just a little relief, that his heart doesn't feel as heavy as it did when he watched the last seconds tick away or when he was in the handshake line or addressing the team in the locker room after, and the soft smile on his face as he holds you close tells you, you may have done all of that.

The next morning, you wake up in Quinn's arms, the safest place in the world and you smile at how serene he looks sleeping. The worry he carries with him is gone, the lines in his face smoothed away while his long, thick lashes resting on his cheeks. You see the smile creep across Quinn's lips telling you he's awake and his voice, thick with sleep, teases you, “Take a picture it'll last longer,”.

Quinn's humor is sneaky and you poke him in the ribs. “Like you haven't been staring at me too,”

Quinn's eyes open as he stretches and he says, “Can you blame me? I've never seen anyone as beautiful as you,”

“Smooth,” You remark and Quinn laughs. “It's not often, I am,” He admits and after a lazy kiss you find yourself sitting on the stools of your kitchen's island as Quinn makes breakfast.

Last night may not have ended the way both of you wanted, but today was a new day and there would be a new season on the horizon and you would make sure Quinn's days leading up to training camp and then opening night would be the brightest. You wouldn't let him get down on himself or believe he could have done more. You were going to make him believe in himself and believe in the team he had help build up to be one of the best, and that started today.

[gunnerfc]

welcome back, how i’ve missed you and your writing!

can i request a stina blackstenius smut fic with bottom!reader please…

reader is stina’s fiancée, who’s finally joined arsenal after several years of long distance, and for the first time they will actually get to live together during the season… so naturally, stina suggests that they christen all the rooms of their new london flat

🔞S. Blackstenius - Welcome Home | WC: 1.5K

Warnings: smut, minors DNI! top stina, bottom fem!reader, oral and fingering (R receiving)

AN: I hope you enjoy bff! 🫶🏻

Your heart thumped against your chest as you signed your new contract with Arsenal, excited for the new chapter ahead. The small conference room was buzzing around you as you took all the necessary photos that would be used to announce your signing in the coming days. As you listened to one of the higher-ups congratulate you, your eyes locked with Stina’s, who had been watching from the back of the room.

You were adamant about having her there with you as you signed everything, wanting to have her support the entire afternoon. The two of you had been engaged for about seven months at the time of your signing, Stina having proposed earlier in the year when you both had off time from your clubs. You had never played in the same country before, but now you were in London with her, playing for the same club.

You smiled politely as the man who was speaking to you walked away, leaving you alone for a short moment before his presence was replaced with Stina’s. “I’m so proud of you, min kärlek,” the blonde whispered so only you could hear, her hand darting out to squeeze yours softly. 

“I’m so happy we get to live together now,” you beamed, feeling overjoyed about finally being able to live a domestic life with your fiancée. 

“So am I,” Stina smiled, but you knew her well enough to sense a different meaning behind her words. 

You didn’t get a chance to respond; a different man pulled you aside to take one more picture before you were free to leave for the evening. You smiled at the new people you had met that day, excited to come into training in the morning and feel like a Gunner. 

You squeezed Stina’s hand as you both made your way to her car, a bright smile on your face. You gave Stina a quick kiss on her cheek when she opened the car door for you, letting you get in before closing it and heading to the driver’s side. You spent the whole car ride bouncing with excitement, to which all Stina could do was smile at you. She spent the car ride with her hand on your thigh, tracing random patterns on your skin, something that didn’t go unnoticed by you. 

When you pulled up to her, now your house, you could feel a shift in the air between you. A shift that excited you for a different reason. Stina once again opened your door for you, offering you a hand as you made your way to the front door. As soon as you were through the threshold, your back was against the door as it was closed. 

Stina’s lips were on your neck instantly, littering your skin with kisses and sucking hickies wherever she could. You titled your head back against the door, offering her more room as a broken moan escaped your lips. You moved a hand to thread through her hair, pushing her closer to you as her hands roamed your body. 

“Stina.. please,” you sighed, panting as your grip in her hair tightened. The blonde pulled away from your neck, her eyes dark with arousal. Her lips met yours in a heated kiss, earning another moan from you. 

Stina guided you backward through the house, one you were familiar with, given the times you've come to visit. You grunted softly as your back hit the couch, Stina hovering over you with her lips still locked with yours. You could feel her hand running up your side, bunching your shirt in her hands as she pulled away. 

“Take this off,” the blonde panted, her hands pushing your shirt up. You quickly complied, tossing the shirt aimlessly to the floor in the living room. Her hands were on your covered breasts instantly as she moved to take your bra off as well, tossing it to join your shirt. 

You moaned loudly when the forward leaned down, her mouth pulling one of your hardened nipples in. Your back arched into her as you tangled your hand in her hair, broken moans falling from your lips. “F-fuck,” you gasped, feeling her teeth graze your nipple.

You could feel Stina smirk against you before she pulled away with a quiet ‘pop’ before her mouth was doing the same to your other nipple. Your eyes screwed shut at the pleasure, but it wasn’t enough. Your hips bucked up against hers, trying to tell her you needed more.

Stina pulled away from your chest, tilting her head to look up at you with a smirk, “What’s wrong, baby,” she teased as she placed a kiss between your breasts. 

“I need more, please,” you whined, your chest heaving as she trailed kissed down your torso towards the waistband of your shorts. 

Stina didn’t verbally respond, instead, she pulled your shorts and underwear from your body, throwing them to the floor. Your body jerked at the cool air hitting your bare body, and your hips bucked once more when Stina kissed your hip bone. 

You mumbled broken pleas, begging her to hurry up. You gasped loudly when you felt her tongue running through your wet folds and circling your sensitive clit. Stina guided your legs over her shoulders, keeping you still as she fucked you with her mouth. 

You could feel her nails digging into your thighs, adding to the sensations you were feeling. Stina moaned into you, the taste of you pushing her to work faster. Your legs shook slightly on either side of her head, already close to your first orgasm. 

“S-stina, please,” you whined, your back arching off the couch as you pushed her closer to you. The feeling of her mouth on you, mixed with the vibrations of her moans, was pushing you closer to the edge, and you both knew you wouldn’t last long.

“Cum for me, älskling,” Stina mumbled against you before returning to what she was doing. You moaned at her words, the coil in your lower stomach breaking as you let go. 

Stina moaned louder into you, holding you close as she let you ride out your high. The blonde pulled back, panting, looking up at you with a smirk from between your thighs with her lips and chin glistening. 

Your chest heaved as you stared up at the ceiling, trying to catch your breath. Before you could even think about saying anything, Stina was pulling you off the couch and into the kitchen. Your legs were wobbly as you followed her, eyebrows knitted in confusion. 

The forward pulled you into her, kissing you again. You moaned into her as you tasted yourself on her lips. You pulled back from the kiss with a gasp when you felt her lifting you onto the counter, pushing your thighs apart. 

“You look so pretty like this, baby,” the blonde teased as she traced her hands along your shaking thighs. You tried to close your legs slightly due to the feeling, but Stina kept them apart as her hands traced closer to your soaked cunt.

You bit back a moan as her fingers ran slowly through your folds, mimicking the actions of her tongue. Without warning, Stina pushed her two middle fingers inside you, pausing once she was close to her knuckles. Your hips jerked slightly on the counter, needing her to move. 

Stina grinned up at you as she slowly thrusts her fingers, watching your face contort in pleasure. She loved seeing you like this, knowing it was all because of her. The blonde kept her fingers moving as she leaned into your neck, the side that wasn’t littered with hickies. 

You rolled your hips as best as you could, meeting her fingers as she sucked on your neck. Her name left your lips repeatedly, begging for a second release. Her fingers sped up as she moved her other hand to rub your clit, adding to the pleasure you were feeling. 

“I’m so close,” you whined, your hands gripping the edge of the counter you were seated on. Stina could feel you clenching around her fingers, making it slightly harder to move them. 

You moaned loudly when your second orgasm hit, your hips stilling as you came around Stina’s fingers. She slowed them down, letting you come down from your high once more. Her lips moved up your neck to your lips, pulling you into a deep kiss. 

She pulled her fingers from between your thighs as she pulled away from your lips. Her eyes were still full of arousal as they met yours with her fingers moving up to your mouth. You slowly sucked her fingers clean, moaning around them at the taste of yourself on them. 

When she pulled them from your mouth, you were panting. You swallowed lightly, trying to catch your breath from the two orgasms you had in quick succession. “Don’t get too tired, älskling. We still have a few more rooms to get to,” the forward smirked as she helped you off the counter. 

Your eyes widened slightly at her words, it hitting you that she wanted to ‘welcome you home’ by fucking you in every room in the house. Your previous excitement about training in the morning had been dashed as you realized you would be feeling sore in the morning. And the last thing you would want to do was run.

[teamfreewill2pointo]

Tumblr won't let me share the audio clip of Misha answering the last question from Crossroads, so here's a transcript.

[Fan] Um, it's kind of about Destiel so - [Misha] Perfect last question really

[Fan]So there's a show called 911 and - It's about firefighters and it's been going on for about seven seasons now. And recently in seven seasons it moved networks from Fox to ABC. And um, one of the main characters, he's a man named Buck and- he kissed another man and it's been said that by the actor who plays Buck on the previous network Fox, they wouldn't have been able to do that. So when they moved, they thought, okay, we can do it now because it's on a different network. So my question is, do you think if Supernatural had a new networks earlier on, or if the show was made later something like this could have happened between Dean and Cas? [Misha] If think that if the CW- [Fan 2] Fuck them! [Misha] had not been- Had not been so homophobic- [Audience cheers] [Misha] Dean and Cas would have been balls deep. [Audience cheers] [Rob] I think you just made a headline. [Audience cheers and laughs]

[Misha] I will tell you- I will answer that question um- in- in part earnest. I, I think that there's been a sea change in culture um broadly. When I joined Supernatural and- and- Destiel became this very like hush-hush thing on the internet that we weren't even supposed to talk about. Um, there was no way on God's green earth that anything like it, uh, a consummation of that kind of relationship would make it to the screen on our show. And by the end of the series, we had lasted for so long that the culture had changed and there had become an acceptance of the possibility that that kind of, like, Declaration of Love could happen. Um, I- I- I mean... When I was growing up, um, we used the word f*g as a filler all the time. It was like, just want to insult one another, and f*g, homo, like, that's what everyone was saying in elementary school. My kids see two dads or two moms dropping their peers off at school and it does not faze them at all. And there's none of that language in their schools. Now, I know that [Audience claps and I can't understand a few words due to clapping] we're decades away from eliminating homophobia in our society. But we've come so far and so I think the answer to your question is, yes, like had to show happened later on and had another 10 years to evolve who- who knows what could've happened. Um, I think that there would have been a lot more representation on the show, in general. We would have had more female directors. We would have had more female leads on the show. We would have had more people of color. A lot of things would have been different on the show, um, if it had just been 10 years later. Um, and there- and of course, like you know, the pendulum always swings. There's always a reaction to Evolution and, you know, in our country, we have the far right emerging and Neo-Nazis like, honestly taking, you know, like, seats of power and potentially, you know, for a second time, the presidency. It's- It's a pretty scary time.

[Rob] Book burning happening, you know? [Misha] What's that? [Rob] And book burning happening. [Misha] Yeah [Rob] You know, watching the show too- watching the rewatch podcast that I do with Rich, like- [Cheers] You see how much things have changed. There are certain things in the show where like, oh, then you wouldn't do that now. You know? [Rob] Like they use the word bitch all the time in the show and it's like- eugh- a little cringy, right? You know. [Misha] Yeah. Um, a lot of- there were a lot of things that we did that I don't think would stand the test of time at all now. But, um, we try to be better. [Rob] Also, I would just say, like, one thing I love about these rooms that this- this, um, family that we're here, in the Supernatural family, is like everybody is welcome and everybody's okay whoever you are, whatever you are, however you are- like, it's this is a safe space.

ETA: so it turns out that the enforcement at Starfury is different than the rules at jibcon or CE and I will not be sharing the audio clip. Jibcon officially has a no recording rule, which almost everyone in fandom ignores. Starfury is different.

[foone]

The worst part of working at the Dimensional Nexus is that we don't get the regular internet there so you can't just watch your shows on Netflix or whatever. We gotta stick to analog media, since the digital stuff doesn't deal well with the temporal flux (the analog stuff doesn't either, but it's usually just a fuzzy image for a second, while your computer just crashes).

Everyone brings in their favorite media from home on old analog tapes (or laserdiscs. They're analog too! And we've got a couple hardened players on the lounge, so we can watch them).

Anyway while you're on-base (which could be for months or years), all your (video) media consumption ends up being on CRTs and piles of tapes you brought or traded with coworkers. Most people bring in a second suitcase of tapes so they'll have something to watch.

I brought in some letsplayers I stuck on a few VHS tapes (yt2vhs is a great program), and box sets of Star Trek: TNG and DS9.

About a month in, the trades really open up, as everyone has watched their own tapes and wants more. I got a good deal on a laserdisc of the Soviet version of... Well, nevermind. But let me just say, in my defense, the author of the books never went off the deep in in that universe, and the Soviet version wasn't made with her cooperation, anyway. I know that's sometimes a little difficult for people from the 91-verse to believe, but that's not the author's reputation in the rest of the Nexus.

Anyway I traded my TNG episodes for VOY. I've seen TNG a dozen times, so I figured it was time to go back over VOY.

It seemed to be pretty similar to what I remembered (other than them killing off Seska of all people at the beginning of S3? Who kills off your series's main villain?!) but at the end of S3 I hit the big divergence between our universes:

Seven. They introduced him early on in Scorpion, part 1, earlier than I remember.

The storyline goes mostly the same, with just a little less 7/Janeway romantic tension (do they even get together in this version? I'm gonna have to wait until season 5 to find out!)

Harry Kim lives in this version of Scorpion, too. I'm not sure why that is, they were clearly setting him up to die? Probably some executive meddling or something. I don't have access to Trekpedia (especially in that universe!) to check.

But yeah. This is one of the universes that got the twinky Seven instead of the catsuit-girl version (Not that this version wears any fewer catsuits). They got 9 seasons instead of the usual 5, so I'm excited to see if those extra ones are any good. When I was picking up the tapes I was surprised how many there were, and Josh told me in his universe they get home in season 6 and the remaining 3 seasons are a sort of spin-off/reboot done when Orbita took over from UPN.

Can't wait to see how that goes. More Star Treks need a post-script season (or three) made in the USSR!

Anyway I'm already looking forward to finishing this because I've already gotten a lead on a copy of TNG where Yaphet Kotto said Yes to the Picard role (sadly that version doesn't have the quintessential Jeffrey Combs as Riker, but I hear some people swear by the Gregg Marx Riker).

Still looking for any copies of the Kim Miyori-as-Data version of TNG. That one wasn't as popular (not it's vault! They had the US Doctor Who and both the Star Wars shows to go up against) so it's less likely to be brought in, but I'm always checking video libraries whenever I'm in that universe. Someday I'll find it. I found that fucking CED of the Walken A New Hope, I'll get the girl!Data TNG one of these days!

[mellowyellow236]

Royally Screwed

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3 (In progress)

(Yuu will be named Yuri, as she's my Yuusona. While there will be no detailed description of her body, Yuri is intersex and may be referred to as such by the cast, although she refers to herself as a woman. All characters will be aged up by one year! As this is a royalty/concubine AU, keep this in mind. There will be no sex scenes, but there will be the implication of the expectation. The exceptions are all adult characters without specified ages, immortals, and Leona.) 

A cup of tea for breakfast because Seven forbid you end up any thicker than a needle, a meeting, a lunch that’s always served with tea (Preferably, rosemary tea this time. That’s what Skully normally gets for me at noon) The afternoon meetings, or shopping for something to wear to meetings, then dinner without tea, but with wine so sweet you can barely tell it’s not juice, and a ball if I’m unlucky, a night’s rest if I’m not. Rinse and repeat every single day. Every single one. If I’m fully honest, I’d rather be a wild boar than be emperor, or empress, or whatever you want to call me. 

At the moment, though, I mostly wish my court would just pick one to use, emperor or empress, instead of staring at me like they’ve never seen a woman rule. I’d describe it as… Hm. Irritation, as though they’re pissed off at everything I say and do. Which, to be fair, they are and also haven’t. There’s no procedure for a lady on the throne, but especially none on what to call me. Then again, it makes our court sessions much more interesting. 

“Your Highness? Honestly, do you listen to a single word I say?” He- That is to say, Crewel- Looked at me with mild disappointment and barely concealed annoyance. “You are the empress now, you have to pay attention during council meetings.” 

“Calling me an empress implies that my main job is to nurture and raise heirs. As I am solely responsible for the empire, I should be named the emperor. It commands additional respect.” I say, looking up at my uncle. I batted my eyelashes, putting on my best impression of the Advisor sitting across the room. Crowley squawked, 

“You must act with more respect for those around you-” 

“You just want to get more power from the emperor getting more power.” Came Trein’s voice, Crowley shaking his head dramatically. 

“Surely, you jest! I would never do such a thing! I only want to see the shining light of our empire rise to its highest potential, increasing the entire country's wealth!” I snorted as he continued, though no one was paying any attention. Looking at Crewel, I sighed. 

“We’re sure that we can’t change breakfast to now so I can eat, like, anything? Even if I make some noble feed me, like some power-shame ritual to show off?” 

“Depends. Are you going to wake up on time to start the meeting earlier, when you should be having breakfast? Or are you going to continue sleeping in until ten every day?” I sighed, putting the back of my hand over my forehead. My best impression of a maiden in distress, if I do say so myself. 

“I’m the empress! I need a wake-up time as much as I need a bedtime!” 

“Would you like me to enforce that as well?” He sighed. 

“Seven, no.” 

“Good. Now, are you ready for court politics? We still have oranges you can eat, if you’re that hungry.” He shrugged at the glare I presented him. Once again, wonderful acting on my part. But an orange would kill me, I hate them so much. “Hunger is the best seasoning, Pup. If you’re not hungry enough for an innocent fruit, then you’re not hungry enough to stop working. On to the topic of your empire, Trein can cover that for me.” He gave Trein a sympathetic look, as the older man nodded. 

“Emperor Yuri Akatsuki, as your councilmen,” I really need to get some council women, that’d be a breath of fresh air around here… “We believe that you need a second ruler, someone to be by your side. A-” 

“Don’t tell me I need to find an actual, man emperor, I’m not giving away my country for anything.” I huffed, looking at Trein with mild disappointment. To think, even he thinks that I need some guy next to me, who’s probably the ruling equivalent of a tyrant or baby. “Besides, I’m man enough for anyone. I’ve got a-” 

“Your Highness!” Trein’s voice rose in exasperation before dipping back down, “We are discussing how you have refused any marriages that have come your way, although it would greatly impact your ability to rule, both because of an additional mind and someone to take over in the case of you being unable to.” I rolled my eyes- Honestly, 

“Good to hear that we’re already planning my assassination…” I blew a piece of hair out of her face and rang the bell next to me. That’ll get Skully over, and then I can leave. Make up some excuse about how I’ve got so many queen duties, or my corset’s too tight, or whatever else, and then I’ll be good to go. 

“Your Highness-” Maybe take a nap or something… 

“Your Majesty,” That’d be fun, or at least less boring… 

“Riri!” I shot up in my seat, looking at the indignant man, with a hand on his chest and his cheeks puffed up. Oh wow, he looks more like he’s joking around when he’s serious than I do when I’m trying to annoy him.  

“Uh-huh, yeah, that sounds fine. Is Skully here yet? I wanna take a nap.” Good going, me. Wonderful delivery, you really made everyone in the room believe you were paying attention. Didn’t even mention how much you’d rather be anywhere else than here, great job. 

“As I was saying, it is imperative that you choose an emperor!” 

“But I’m emperor?” 

“Well aware!” Crewel mumbled something suspiciously like an insult under his breath, as Skully entered the room, tray of tea with him. I nabbed a cup full of pumpkin tea from him while the No-Sweets-Before-Lunch tyrant was distracted. “So, we shall do the next best thing. A palace harem! You shall get all of the benefits of a king, plus many more alliances and available hands, things that we would normally only be able to get through children but that having the number of children expected would put you out of commission for far too long.” Trein sighed, as Skully snickered, Grim sauntering in through the open door and seating himself on my lap. I petted his little ears around the huge mass of fur, cooing as I struck the idea down. 

“Hell no. I will under no circumstances marry anyone-” I paused as the cat hit me with one of his paws, rubbing his cheeks with my fingers. “Oh, look at you! Such a cute nose you have, all the better to smell me with! And such pretty little toe beans that I can’t see because you’re so big you go right over the sides of the throne! So much bigger than when you were this tiny! And…” I trailed off when I noticed the tension in the room. Were they actually dead set on getting me a harem? Seven, they really are desperate I marry someone… It’s almost pathetic, in a way. Stupid, at the very least. 

“You did what.” Crewel seethed, staring at a proud man, like a crow who had just stolen something shiny. “Why would you even think that was okay to do? For the empress’s sake or the rest of ours.” 

“Our sake’s mean nothing, but the empire’s-” 

I whispered to Skully, who looked pissed off, a rare emotion when I wasn’t doing something wrong by his standards, “What’d he do? I’ve never seen Crewel so pissed over a bad idea.” Skully shook his head, looking at me for a moment in seriousness, before switching back over to joy. He fell to his knees in front of me, tray on the floor nearby. He took my hands and pushed his lips onto them. 

“Congratulations, Your Highness! I’m sure that with you planning the weddings, you may have one almost as grand as our last Halloween!” 

“Wait a minute. My what.” I said, looking at the smugger man again. The second cat in the room, which seemed a little bit more moody than normal, although it always was, looked as ready to pounce as his owner would have if he was a few years young.

“I’ve taken the liberty and called a set of nine princes here already. From the Queendom of Roses, the Sunset Savanna, the Coral Sea, the Scalding Sands, the Shaftlands, and even a prince from Briar Valley! Their names are all complied in this scroll.” I was seething, Crewel was seething, Skully was creepily too happy, and Grim was begging for tuna on my lap like the big cat he was. A bit too big to my lying on my lap, in fact, considering the mane he has started growing. A fairly normal setup for my week, although my anger wasn’t usually directed at the bird man. “Why, aren’t I so gracious! From now on, you’ll have not one, but nine consorts, and their servants, all of which will be able to assist you and your advisors in whatever issues arise.” 

“There aren’t even nine princes in her age range!” 

“Well, maybe not princes, more like… Relatives of rulers or sons of high nobility. Many princes, though. The only ones that are fully unrelated are the boy from the Scalding Sands, one of the Shaftlands picks, and the second noble from the Coral Sea…” He trailed off upon noticing the murderous looks of everyone in the room. It’s a miracle he did so in such a long time, normally it’d take twice as much. Then again, he’s maturing! The man twice my age who’s supposed to be in charge of part of my kingdom is maturing! How wonderful! I’m perfectly happy with this outcome and nothing can be said otherwise! “They will be here in a matter of a week, most likely. Some may come earlier, but most stated they will be here on time.” 

“Ready rooms.” I was technically talking to Skully, but it was Trein who stepped out of the room quickly, as though to save himself from screaming. I guess the work of a housekeeper is never done, even after you’ve been promoted so hard you’re no longer one. Truly, one hell of a former butler. But, onto Crewel’s orders… Seven, I don’t want to deal with this. “Go get plan B ready.” 

“The birth control?” Haha, very funny coming from a tart.

“No, a plan to get them to leave.” 

“Then what’s plan A?” I give him a look like he’s crazy, which he is. It’s obvious what plan A is. I run away into the forest to live out my life in peaceful solitude with my pet lion, and maybe Skully or that one conman that keeps getting in and out of the jail, for entertainment. “To keep them in the palace and use them as helpers like intended?” Oh, that sounds a lot more like something the emperor would think up. Good idea, Crewel. I’m going to steal it for plan C. But if he figures out what plan A actually is, he’ll stop me… Hm, what to do… “Empress, what are you planning? If I have to cover for another escape attempt,” Oh no, he’s caught onto me, “I will be forcing you into the most stylish wedding dress we had.” I sigh, dramatically once more, this time wrapping an arm around the furry beast on top of me. 

“The horror! My most trusted advisor, betraying his beliefs of my thoughts!” There’s a squawk and a snort, respectively, before I continue, “And we’re sure I can’t do that? Like, completely sure? I can’t just run away before my wedding night, or flee the wedding bed, and leave?” 

“I’m sure.” He sighed, and I sighed. If only real life worked as plays do… I’d have killed a certain advisor by now if that was the case. Or, at the very least, I’d be the tragic heroine or love interest who’s kidnapped and has to be saved. Oo, wait, that sounds like fun… I mean, I’d hit them first, but still, give some guy a savior complex over me. Fun. “Empress.” Ah, he’s too good at his job. 

“I…” I paused, for dramatic effect as I stood up, my little furry baby getting to the floor. “Am going to go take a nap, while you fix this. Goodbye.” I walk away, much to Crewel’s disgruntlement. I do so love to annoy him. 

“Fine, Pup. But if you walk away, I’m sending letters to all of those kingdoms confirming the dates, and that they will all be welcomed when they come to our kingdom.” I sauntered out of there because as we’ve already established, it’s no threat. I’ll just make it a game. If anything, I hope those kingdoms back out before I get to their sons. 

I plan on turning this nightmare into something fun. For me, at least. For Crewel… 

Eh.

[smoft-demons]

What if pacts gave you spells

I’ve had another idea!!

Demons in this setting are pretty fuckin magic. MC as well, has some funny magic going on in the late game iirc. What if the magic started showing up sooner, specifically because of the pacts?? What if the avatars have specific themed abilities and you get powered down versions of those powers through the pact? Ive been having Ideas about it!!

In pact order:

_______

Mammon is the avatar of greed. Money and stuff is his thing. So I think his pact, at a low level, should give you a heat metal spell. I imagine HE has a summon-molten-metal ability that he can use in combat, because that’d be awesome. It’d be a real no holds barred type of move, because like,, being burned to death in molten metal is a REAL brutal way to go. He’s a demon tho. I think it would make some sense for him to be able to do it.

Gravity magic also makes sense for Mammon. Black holes be greedy. The vibe seems right. The dunamancy spell Ravenous Void is pretty much what I’m thinking.

Mammon’s really fast too. So maybe he can give you haste, longstrider, misty step… maybe blink.

Another thing in Mammon’s wheelhouse is gambling. Luck, stacking chances in your favour and all that. So let’s have him give you something like silvery barbs too. Something that lets you skew chance in your favour when you need to.

I’d say the list of spells you get from him goes like: heat metal and longstrider at first. Then you get stronger after season 1, and you get misty step, something along the lines of silvery barbs, and haste (to make others faster I think is a higher level thing than making yourself faster). When you’re MUCH stronger, you get ravenous void. Maybe you get a weaker version earlier.

No matter what tho, no one’s version of that black hole spell is stronger than Mammon’s.

_______

Then you pact with Leviathan. He’s a sea serpent, and he’s the grand admiral of hell’s navy. I’d imagine he’s crazy good with navigation and has a sea monster form, on top of the other abilities he canonically has (summoning Lotan, making floods, etc)

I’d say Levi’s pact gives you: create water, find familiar (because Lotan), breathing underwater and some magical ability that helps you not get lost. At a higher level, you get to summon a powerful water elemental. Maybe even a wildshape-esque ability that is specifically for turning into a sea serpent.

I would also say it’s Levi’s pact that gives you darkvision. You really need it if you’re going in deep water. Also, if ANYONE of these seven can give you the classic warlock spell Eldritch blast, it’d be Levi. It’s not very high level, you can have it early on.

_______

Beel’s gluttony, and honestly black holes fit him too. But I think that’s such an absurdly OP thing that it HAS to go to Mammon.

Beel is also a tank. He’s a protector. He’s real strong and resilient and he’s the type to purposely take damage in order to save someone he loves from having to. In the game he makes the pact with the implication that he wants you to have it so he can protect you next time. So I think he wouldn’t WANT to encourage his human to do the same tank thing as him, but still I think his pact would help you do that. It would just make you stronger and more durable I think.

That bit is less a spell and more an ability score increase. Raises your strength and constitution.

Of the actual spells tho, there’s gotta be something abjuration. Some magic shield spell kind of thing. Also, obviously some way to create food. Maybe when you’re stronger you get hero’s feast. Some way to summon a swarm of locusts is on theme for Beel. Also, his telepathic connection with Belphie makes me think of message.

I think Beel wants you to have feather fall. I think that might be one of his first priorities.

So his list would go: feather fall, some magic shield, message, and the constitution increase. Then at a higher level, the strength increase, summon locusts, and create/summon food. Even higher, hero’s feast or something like it…

The summoning food spells is not really a thing I think Beel can do/an ability he can share through the pact, but I think he deserves to be able to give you that. He would just like to be able to do that. Why not let him.

_______

Next pact is Asmo. The most obvious thing for him is a charisma buff.

Then in terms of spells, suggestion makes a lot of sense. So does friends, disguise self, vicious mockery, and minor illusion. Later on, mass suggestion and crown of madness.

He’s not usually the very aggressive sort, though of course I don’t put violence past him at all. Bloodlust is still lust, after all. Passion is kinda his whole domain. No, Asmo is VERY capable of violence I’m sure, he just doesn’t indulge in it often because he likes his pristine image and others’ tendencies to underestimate him far more.

With that in mind, maybe some kind of slow acting necromantic curse makes sense for the offensive move he’d give you. Some way to magically give someone a dose of venom in their veins just by touching them.

Canonically in the game Asmo basically uses dominate beast (on Henry 1.0 in the catacombs under the demon king’s castle) but I can’t help but associate that more with Lucifer (because Cerberus) so I kind of want to give it to him instead… but Asmo literally DID it so…

I think Asmo’s list goes: suggestion, vicious mockery, friends, disguise self. Then the charisma increase, casting illusions (minor or otherwise), and crown of madness. Then mass suggestion, dominate beast, and the venom spell. That seems right.

_______

Then it’s Satan’s turn.

Ok so the most obvious thing for him as the avatar of wrath is giving you a whole ass level in barbarian. The rage ability. And like,, that works, but like… doesn’t super match his personality. Controlling his wrath is more what he seems to care about.

If the spells he can give you are chosen by him, then I think you’d get comprehend languages, speak with animals, legend lore, that kind of thing.

But if it’s not his choice, then the ability to rage. In terms of spells, stuff like blight, finger of death, fireball, meteor swarm, disintegrate. Dramatically destructive kind of thing.

I’m gonna say it’s probably somewhere in between. You don’t get rage or disintegrate from him, nor all the best of the curious nerd spells. But you DO get: prestidigitation (can start fires OR quickly clean messes, up to you, be smart and crafty to get the most out of it), comprehend languages, firebolt. Later, you get fireball (upgrade for firebolt!) blight, and lets say something electric. Like, being able to electrocute someone by grabbing them.

_______

Now for Belphie!

I can’t help but think of him less in D&D terms and more like,, psychic type Pokémon. That just seems like the right vibe for him.

I wanna say you’d get two necromancy spells after the whole lesson 16 thing—specifically, toll the dead and chill touch. The vibes of toll the dead just seem fitting for some reason, and come ON, chill touch couldn’t possibly be more perfect! It makes a spectral, skeletal hand that clings to your target (around their neck maybe?) to (and I quote!) “assail it with the chill of the grave” which deals necrotic damage and delays healing. It’s PERFECT, okay, except for… it doesn’t make any sense to get those from the pact with Belphie. They have nothing to do with HIM, and everything to do with what he did to you.

Maybe you can get it from the weird resurrection thing that happens instead. All kinds of weird shit can happen when timelines and your life get all fucky like that, I guess. You met a ghost and got shoved back to life and then time got weird, I’m sure at that point anything can happen.

Actually FROM Belphie, the obvious spell you’d get is sleep. Put some bastard to sleep, make them unconscious, that’s his main thing.

I think the list goes: sleep. Then later, with more power, you get confusion (like the Pokémon move)and phantasmal force (the one that projects an illusion only visible to the target, that is able to deal damage to them. Many very creative applications of this spell are possible). At the highest possible level, power word kill. The quickest and laziest possible way to do a murder, as long as you use it right.

_______

Finally, Lucifer.

Big strong powerful Morningstar! Proud bastard that everyone can’t help but listen to.

So OBVIOUSLY you get dominate person from him! (yes, all seven of them have the ability to force a non-MC human to obey them magically but shhh. Lets say only Lucifer can GIVE that ability to a human.)

I think he’d be the one who can give you classic demonic abilities like fire resistance and hellish rebuke. I can’t imagine Lucifer not having some disintegrate-like ability, as the third most powerful demon in the realm.

He can’t give you a whole ass pair of wings, he can’t change the structure of your body, but I think maybe he can give you the fly spell. Or even just something like a double jump and a fully controlled fall. I think that suits him.

Yknow what else suits him? Meteor swarm. Super powerful, dramatically destructive, only the strongest can cast it… flaming destruction falling from the sky… Fall imagery weaponized into an absurdly high damage spell. Seems like Lucifer!

So let’s say his spell list for you is: hellish rebuke and fire resistance (not a spell, but still). Then, dominate person, the flight-adjacent spell, and disintegrate. Then finally, meteor swarm. That seems right.

_______

[hotdaemondtargaryen]

EWAN MITCHELL INTERVIEWED FOR NERDIST MAGAZINE.

IN SEASON TWO OF HOUSE OF THE DRAGON, AEMOND BLAZES HIS PATH TO POWER, AND HE'S READY TO START A WAR. WHAT DO YOU BELIEVE IS HIS OVERALL MOTIVATION FOR HIS ACTIONS? IS HE JUST SEEKING BLOODSHED, OR DOES HE WANT SOMETHING ELSE?

"That’s a good question."

"I think it could be a multitude of things."

"I think that’s the beauty of Aemond’s ambiguity."

"You don’t necessarily know what he’s thinking or where his true motivations and allegiances lie, but you definitely know that he is thinking."

"There is this calculative quality behind his eye."

"What his motivations are, I don’t know if I want to spoil it too much, but it’s a few things."

"I think he loves his mum [Alicent]."

"He wants his mum."

I’m going to quote Spider-Man… “with great power comes great responsibility.”

"He has the largest, baddest, oldest dragon in the known world."

"He has to be seen as someone who can wield that effectively."

"And so I think it could be a multitude of things, and I think there’s certainly a fear in the unknown there as well."

"What do you think are his motivations?"

I FEEL LIKE IT'S A SPLIT. SOME OF IT MAY JUST BE, 'I WANT TO GO INTO WAR, AND I WANT BLOODSHED. I WANT TO BE ABLE TO PROVE THAT I AM A MAN AND I FIT INTO THIS TYPICAL BOUND OF MASCULINITY.' BUT THEN I ALSO THINK THAT SOME OF IT IS A BIT OF WANTING TO BE SEEN AND BE HEARD. AEMOND IS NOT THE FIRSTBORN NOR THE ONLY DAUGHTER ON 'HOUSE OF THE DRAGON,' AND SO MAYBE IT'S WANTING TO PROVE YOUR WORTH AND SHOW THAT YOU ACTUALLY MATTER. AEMOND JUST WANTS SOMEONE TO SEE HIM.

"Yeah."

"One thing that I’ve touched upon before is the idea that kids need that unconditional love to develop a balanced view of themselves."

"If a child isn’t embraced by the village, they’ll burn it down to feel its warmth."

"And so Aemond, like you said, he’s going to find that validation through other means, that attention through other ways, and he might just do that through war."

THAT IS THE DIRECTION HE'S HEADING! ONE OF THE MOST IMPORTANT CONVERSATIONS IN THE HOUSE OF THE DRAGON SEASON TWO FINALE IS WHEN AEMOND IS SPEAKING WITH HELAENA AND TRYING TO CONVINCE HER TO TAKE DREAMFYRE INTO WAR. IS HE ASKING HER TO DO THIS PURELY OUT OF DESPERATION TO BEST HIS OPPONENT, OR IS IT MORE OF A STRANGE ATTEMPT TO PROTECT THE FAMILY AND THEIR LIVES?

"I think it’s a little bit of both."

"It’s a fight for self-preservation."

It’s basically, “Look, it’s either going to be them, or it’s going to be us, so it might as well be them… we’re out-dragoned seven to three. If we don’t bind together and take Harrenhal, take out Daemon, and destroy all of the influence that he has in the Riverlands, we’re going to be on a serious back foot.”

"And like you touched upon, the idea of desperation; he is desperate at that moment."

"He’s been made a fool in Rhaenyra raising new dragonseeds, and he had to make a U-turn and fly back to King’s Landing, and he definitely has to feel like he has to overcompensate."

RIGHT. IT'S INTERESTING THAT AEMOND STILL WANTS TO CHART THIS COURSE ON HOUSE OF THE DRAGON, ESPECIALLY AFTER HELAENA TELLS HIM ABOUT THE VISION OF HIM DYING IN BATTLE. WILL HE TAKE THAT OMEN SERIOUSLY OR DOES HE STILL THINK THAT HE'S THE MASTER OF HIS OWN FATE?

"He always thought that he was the master of his own fate, but this new knowledge very much challenges that."

"I think Aemond will believe that information."

"He just doesn’t want to… [the show] planted seeds earlier in season two, episode six, after he’s made Prince Regent."

He is looking up at the Iron Throne, and he yearns for it, and Helaena appears behind him and says, “Was it really worth the price?”

"It gives the impression that she’s always been ahead of the curve and always known the secrets that happened all around in the skies above Rook’s Rest."

"He knew that his sister possessed this foresight."

"And maybe if you were able to, in some way, shape, or form, harness that power, that might be actually incredibly invaluable for the Greens to possess that foresight to know when a blow’s going to come before it lands."

"It would be invaluable."

IT IS A POWERFUL ASSET TO HAVE ON YOUR SIDE! DO YOU THINK THAT AEMOND ACTUALLY HAS THE CAPACITY TO BE A GOOD RULER AND MAYBE REDEEM HIMSELF OF HIS TRANSGRESSIONS ON HOUSE OF THE DRAGON?

"Do I think he’d be a good ruler?"

"No. No, I don’t think he would."

I'M STILL ROOTING FOR HIM BECAUSE I AM AN AEMOND-APOLOGIST.

"[Laughs] … For the majority of season two, he’s so composed."

"Whilst all the members of the council table are raising their voices and arguing, Aemond’s always been the kid who sits back and waits for his moment."

"There is a very cold, calculative quality to him."

"But as soon as he sits in the King’s chair, he starts to chuck people out of the council, and it’s very interesting…"

"You never say never, but at the moment, he seems pretty bad."

"Atrocious."

HE'S TRYING HIS BEST! ON HOUSE OF THE DRAGON, AEMOND OFTEN TALKS TO OTHER CHARACTERS ABOUT SACRIFICING FOR THE THRONE IN ORDER TO BEST RHAENYRA. OUT OF ALL THE SACRIFICES HE'S ALREADY MADE, IS THERE A SACRIFICE YET TO COME THAT WOULD ACTUALLY BREAK HIS HEART? PERHAPS LOSING VHAGAR?

"Losing Vhagar would be…"

"Oh, my God, I’d be heartbroken! I would be heartbroken as Ewan because I want to see Vhagar on screen as much as possible."

"Vhagar was very much his first friend."

"He was the first friend that he ever made and the first being that recognized Aemond and actually showed him some sort of attention."

"She saw something in him that maybe he didn’t even see in himself."

"If he lost Vhagar, he’d be heartbroken. Aemond and Vhagar, they’re a power couple."

"They’re soul-bonded."

"I think if Aemond has a breaking point, he definitely hasn’t found it yet."

VHAGAR IS THE BREAKING POINT FOR NOW, I THINK. YOU KNOW, YOU HAVE QUITE THE FAN CLUB NOW. THERE A LOT OF PEOPLE WHO DIG AEMOND! I CALL HIM A ROYAL PIRATE ON A DRAGON BECAUSE HE'S GOT THE EYEPATCH. HOW DO YOU FEEL ABOUT THIS INFLUX OF ATTENTION AROUND AEMOND, AND WHAT HAS YOUR EXPERIENCE BEEN WITH THE HOUSE OF THE DRAGON FANDOM SO FAR?

"Well, I’m not on social media, so I receive a lot of beautifully articulated fan letters that are often badass as well, and I never take it for granted."

"I use it all as motivation."

"It means the world to me, and it also means that in collaboration with Amanda Knight, the hair and makeup designer, and Caroline McCall, the costume designer, that our work has really paid off."

"It’s a testament to their hard work and talent."

"So I love it all."

"I read every single one of them, I swear to God."

[autisticandroids]

rarepair fic recs

slipping in my rarepair recs within hopefully like an hour of the deadline. for @spnficrecfest. i'm basically taking rarepairs to mean "anything but The Big Two" so like. if you wanna quibble with calling, say, megstiel a rarepair, that's the definition i'm using.

i actually have a bunch of other rarepair fics on my other lists: casjimmy, samlucifer, sastiel, samruby, and annamary here. crowstiel, deancaslisa, deancasmeg, daphne/emmanuel, and cas/rachel here. draowley here. dagonkelly here. raphael/naomi, deanpala, deancassie, sastiel, mary/naomi, megjo, and rowena/ofc here. samlucifer here. and megstiel on i think literally every list i've made so far. i'd also like to point you in the direction of a dark femslash reclist i made earlier this year.

anyway, rarepair fics in order of wordcount:

i could be kindly by anti_ela, .5k

deanalastair. well, it's exactly what you think.

the replacement by ravenspear, .5k

meg/nick (yes lucifer's vessel nick). meg won't kiss him until his mouth is cold enough.

buy you a round by nevcoleil, .5k

deanhenriksen. they meet again after jus in bello.

vessel by transgenderism, 1k

deancasmeg in season seven. and Gender.

wherever they roam (the sum of our influences) (orphaned work), 1k

deancasmeg. dean and meg met in hell. dean and cas met there too. all three meet again, topside.

aching everywhere by discoxena, 1k, chose not to warn

sammegjo. a seduction, rather than what we see in canon, and that makes it worse in the end.

another perfect moment (that doesn't feel like mine) by lesbiansailor, 1k, chose not to warn

alex jones/krissy chambers. munchausen's by proxy in a wayward sisters setting.

last call by angelszn, 2k

cassie/cisfem dean, in season three. one last phone call.

the pain in the end is all in your memory by filthyfealty, 2k

crowley/transfem dean. an exploration of what it's like to be a demon, and a girl, and dean winchester.

always sere, never blooming by smilla, 2k

deanvictor, after a hunt.

baby steps by angelszn, 2k

missouri/cisfem sam. sam has brain damage, so dean takes her to the only other psychic they know for help. i'm kind of obsessed with sam's characterization in this one, not gonna lie.

and the devil makes four by vaguesurprise, 2k

destiel, crowstiel, meanstiel, oh my! cas likes demons.

new religion (bring you to your knees) by electricskeptic, 2k

megstiel. meg realizes just how faithless cas is in season six.

the wrong game with the wrong chips by a_diamond, 3k

endverse cas/risa. they talk about being dean's discard pile.

the thing about glass slippers by krisomniac, 5k

deanhenriksen. dean allows himself to be temporarily transformed into a woman in order to go undercover and seduce henriksen. she likes it.

end of days (orphaned work), 5k

megstiel and deancasmeg in a pacific rim au.

one night by reapertownusa, 7k

deanhenriksen. a last encounter, three weeks before the deadline.

proxy by bleedingink, 8k

samcasmeg. three people in two bodies, and enough tension to cut with a knife.

grace by nerdylittleangelenthusiast, 13k, violence and mcd

crowstiel. a season twelve mpreg story. cas is on the run with kelly, and crowley is so sweet on him. abandoned but i would rec it anyway.

masters by twisted_slinky, 15k, noncon and violence warnings

deanmeg and megstiel. a story about meg from season three to season seven, as recounted by the demon herself. remember when meg said "i apprenticed under alastair in hell, just like your brother, so dean, can i make crowley do whatever i want?"

the passenger by hansbekhart, 34k, violence and mcd warnings

deanhenriksen. victor survives jus in bello, but just barely. when he's back on his feet again, he goes to meet the winchesters.