I would like to give thanks for B Dylan Hollis, personally ❤️
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can we just acknowledge the fact that the first thing i decided to do when i woke up at 3:30 am was finish a fic-
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gonna announce a thing i’m doing in february later 👀
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What are ur plans for Vday?
I’m going out with my friends the night of (we’re going to this 'emo night' which felt appropriate lol)(so excited to dance to some Paramore & sing all the lyrics) and then I have a small party the next evening✨🕊🦋
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handed in my notices at both jobs today and booked my one-way to france for april 7th😌
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Bonjour, comment ça va? Est-ce que vous étudiez le français avec Duolingo? Il n'est pas mal.
Ça va bien but is this a Duolingo ad? Você tá espionando minha internet? Êtes-vous juste amical(e)? (Wait nevermind I think you're just being nice but it took me a while to remember I wrote about learning french and it freaked me out for a sec lmao sorry) Mais non, j'étudie à distance avec une professeure. Est-ce que vous voulez de continuer la conversation in private? I don't know how to say that in French sorry mais j'adorerais parler avec quelqu'un qui parle la langue
Let Me Go!!
Card: Dorm Uniform - SSR
Characters: Epel, Rook, Vil, Idia
Epel: Um... This is where the film studies club meets, right?
Epel: Excuse me...
Rook: Hello, Epel-kun! I see Vil asked you to lend a hand here.
Epel: I’d say it’s more like I was forced... Did he ask you too?
Rook: I’m helping on my own accord. The pleasure is all mine if I’m able to be with Vil.
Vil: Film studies club! Everyone gather around.
I’m going to discuss the details for when we begin our next student-produced film.
I’ll hand out the script first. Everyone, take one each.
Epel: Whoa, this script is so thick. They must really go all out with their activities here...
Vil: The next film we’re producing will be about time travel.
It’s set in the present day. The students of Night Raven College use a time machine...
And travel to the era of the Great Seven’s Fairest Queen of All.
Rook: The era of the Fairest Queen of All... How très bien!
What a fascinating idea, don’t you think, Epel-kun?
Epel: Hah... I guess.
Vil: The leading role is still undecided. I’ll let you know once I’ve chosen them.
Now, the time machine is the key item in this story... Epel!
Epel: ! Yes?!
Vil: I’m putting you in charge of designing it.
Epel: What?! I-I’m just the help. Why am I in charge of something so important...?
Vil: I’ve deemed you the most suitable for this.
Epel: (What gave him that idea?! I’ve never designed anything in my life. I want to say no...)
Vil: The time machine will use a magical wheel as a base. You’ll be customizing the exterior.
This way, we can shoot driving scenes.
Epel: You said magical wheel...?!
Vil: Yes. I’ve already arranged for one to use in our shooting.
I’ve asked Ignihyde’s dorm leader, Idia, to modify it, so you will work with him to complete it.
Epel: Got it!
Vil: ...You sounded very genuine there. Well, if you’re feeling motivated now, then that’s fine.
The theme of the time machine’s design should be “something beautiful and fitting for the setting.”
Your deadline is in three days at noon. Is that clear?
Epel: Yes, Vil-san!
(I was so reluctant about having to help out the film studies club... but I didn’t expect there to be a magical wheel involved!)
(That feeling of the passenger becoming one with the vehicle as they ride on... Just watchin’ it gets me all excited.)
(Maybe if I made a design that makes Vil-san’s jaw drop, he’d even let me take it for a test run.)
(Okay, I’m gonna do my best!!)
—IGNIHYDE DORM - LOUNGE—
Epel: I’m Epel, a first-year from Pomefiore. You’re Idia-san, right? Let’s work hard together.
Idia: Ugh... The glittery Pomefioran is here, hurray...
O-Oh, um... Vil-shi explained everything to me. We’ll use this lounge to work...
Epel: Okay, thank you.
Oh, that’s the magical wheel we’re going to modify there next to you, right? It’s so cool...!!
Idia: Hah... I only agreed to this ‘cause Vil-shi said he’d compensate me...
But working with other people... really makes me irritated by the second.
I need to finish this and go back to my room ASAP before my sanity gauge runs out.
Epel: (I know Vil-san’s taste pretty well since he’s been training me for months ever since I enrolled here.)
(I need to aim for a fancy design that goes with the setting and also satisfies Vil-san.)
Idia-san. Let’s do our best designing this magical wheel...!
Idia: Yeah. Let’s get this done as fast as we can...
—IGNIHYDE DORM - LOUNGE—
Epel: It took all night... but it’s done! Idia-san, the coloring for the magical wheel is all finished.
Idia: Congrats on getting it done. You told Vil-shi you’d show it to him once it was finished, right? Shouldn’t you call him?
And end this so I can be alone.
Epel: Yes, I’ll go do that!
Epel: Here’s the magical wheel, painted to look like a time machine.
The design was inspired by the peacock engraved into the Fairest Queen of All’s favorite chair.
Epel: Um... Vil-san?
Vil: Epel. Are you satisfied with this design?
Epel: What do you mean, am I satisfied...?
Vil: I ordered you to design something “beautiful and fitting for the setting.”
However, this piece conveys nothing from the creator’s heart.
You wouldn’t consider this design “beautiful,” would you?
Epel: ...! Well, I...
Vil: To me, this looks like you only tried to match the setting.
Redo it, Epel. And don’t think about coming back to the dorm until it’s finished.
Epel: What?! Vil-san, wait a seco— ...He’s gone.
...Dammit! How can he be angry that I made it exactly as he said...?!
But I get to work with a magical wheel, which I love so much. No way am I giving up after failing once!
I need to make something that I think is beautiful, that matches the setting,
And something that would make Vil-san satisfied, right?
I’m gonna do it!!
But what would that be...?
—IGNIHYDE DORM - IDIA’S ROOM—
Idia: Hehee! I got that kitty accessory I wanted! It’s a rare strength item that boosts my speed by 100!
Hehehe, now, the boss from this ultra-hard quest... You should tremble in fear of my dodging power.
(Epel barges in)
Idia: Eee! E-E-E-E-Epel-shi! It’s rude to come into someone’s room without knocking!
Epel: Oh... S-Sorry.
It’s just, we have to redo the time machine...
Idia: Hah? He rejected that flashy design?
Epel: Yeah... So please help me make it over again!
Idia: (I can’t believe Vil-shi. He should’ve done this himself if he was going for something specific. Why’d he leave it to someone else?)
(I can’t stand them taking away my gaming time anymore. I gotta get this done now and chase out Epel-shi...)
H-Hey, Epel-shi. Do you have anything you’re good at?
Epel: Huh? Why are you asking?
Idia: ‘Cause wouldn’t this get done faster if Vil-shi just made it himself instead of having you make it over again?
But he still put you up to it... So shouldn’t you consider that maybe you’ve got some kind of secret talent?
In online games, leveling up skills you’re good at makes getting through the game easier.
Epel: But I’m just good at things like carving apples. I can’t really use that in desig——
I figured it out!!
Idia: Ee! I-I-It scares me when you yell out of nowhere! Wh-What did you figure out?
Epel: I figured out what I can make that’s as beautiful and fitting for the setting as I can!
Idia: I-I’m glad to see you came up with an idea. Well, let’s get on with it then.
Epel: Huh? But you stayed up all night last night. Are you sure you shouldn’t rest a little...?
Idia: Heh, staying up all night is nothing to me. I stan a group of idols who look elderly but with hearts eternally 17...
And even Moirai on the Edge can do live performances for 72 hours straight.
We’ll prevail over this ultra-hard quest!
Epel: M-Moi...rai? I-I don’t know what that means, but let’s work hard!
(This time, we’ll make a design that Vil-sanーno, that anyone would approve of!)
ーーThe day the time machine is due.
???: ...el... Epel!
—IGNIHYDE DORM - LOUNGE—
Huh? Ahh! When did I go to sleep?! And Vil-san, what’re you doin’ here?
Vil: Your deadline is today at noon, so I came to check up on how you were doing. Honestly, I cannot believe you were sprawled out asleep on the floor.
So? Have you finished the time machine?
Epel: Oh... I did. Take a look at this!
There’s a story where the Fairest Queen of All made a poisoned apple, right?
So this time, I used that as my inspiration.
The color of the whole body represents a ripe, red, shining apple.
Like one you reach out to take without even realizing it... Anyway, I made sure it looked delicious!
Vil: Hmm... Go on.
Epel: Right. The other thing I worked especially hard on was this design that’s hidden when the machine is stopped, and only gets revealed when it starts up.
I’ll turn it on to let you see.
Vil: ! You painted the tire kept inside... Is that a skull?
Epel: Yes! One of the stories mentioned that a skull rose up before the poisoned apple the Queen made turned red...
So I added a symbol that can’t be seen from the outside unless you start it up.
This time machine is as “beautiful and fitting for the setting” as I can make it right now!
Vil: ...Allow me to ask you one thing. Why did you change to a poisoned apple?
Epel: Um... When I tried to use a peacock in my design, I honestly couldn’t tell if it was good or bad...
But then I thought, no one would be able to resist a design that makes apples look appealin’...!!
...Heh. You finally came up with a design that reflects you.
Epel: ...! Yeah!
Vil: Now, I will leave you with the keys to this magical wheel.
Epel: Huh? Why me?
Vil: I’m heading back to our set. You’ll deliver the machine to the film studies club yourself.
You have until noon to bring it, just as we discussed. Don’t be late. Understood?
Epel: ...If he was in such a rush, he could’ve just taken it himself... Wait, hold on?!
Does this mean I can ride it back to the set... maybe?
AHH~! ALL RIGHT!!
Idia: Ugh... Epel-shi, you’re too loud... Your voice is ringing through my sleep-deprived head...
Epel: Oh! S-Sorry, Idia-san.
I’ve always wanted a magical wheel... And I get to ride one I designed myself. I just can’t believe it...
Alright, let’s get to the school building!
Film Studies Student A: Hm...? What’s that? There’s something coming towards us from the front gate.
Rook: That is a magical wheel. And the one driving it is... Monsieur Cherry Apple, Epel-kun.
Film Studies Student A: It’s so glossy, like a real apple... And his Pomefiore uniform looks so nice. It’s beautiful!
Film Studies Student B: Driving that machine, Epel-kun’s got a radiance that’s different from his usual frail beauty.
Film Studies Student C: Yeah. That piercing cold look and his unconsciously curled-up lips... I’m so drawn to it; I can’t look away.
Rook: Did you hear that, Vil? Everyone is praising Epel-kun!
Vil: Hehe, these potatoes’ reactions are perfect.
Epel: Oh... There he is! Vil-san! Just as promised, I’m here to deliver this.
Let me stop the machine... Okay. Well, I’ll get going now.
Vil: Hold it, Epel. Stay right there.
Film studies club, your attention! I have an announcement to make regarding our next film.
For our undecided leading role... I’ve decided to cast Epel right here.
Epel: Wh... What?!
Vil: You all saw how he looked riding that time machine, yes?
I believe there’s no better person out there more suited for this role. Are there any objections?
Rook: It’s true, the sight of him riding that time machine up here almost felt like a scene from a movie.
Film Studies Student B: Yeah! Hats off to you for how dashing you looked. I’ll let you have my seat today.
Epel: W-Wait a second. I thought I was just helping with the design——
Vil: I’ve already made up my mind. I’ll thoroughly train you to be an actor, so do prepare yourself.
Now, you must do a costume fitting. Costume committee, take Epel to our club room.
Costume Committee: Okay!
Epel: I-I still haven’t said anything about doing th—let me go!!
Vil: ...I see now how drastically the sparkle in his eyes changes depending on whether he’s interested or not. Honestly. He’s a difficult apple to deal with.
Rook: Epel-kun was shining like a completely different person than he was yesterday, yes...
But perhaps were you anticipating this finale from the start?
Vil: Well, now. Who’s to say?
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i enjoyed writing this sm (update from future qtips i don’t anymore pls, i feel like its missing something) i’m a sucker for tendou soghpaeg but here’s some self-indulgent fluff <3 (also google translate is not accurate so i’m so sorry for this bash at french pfwpeg)
warnings for fluff and lack of communication slightly !!!
by qtipcottonbuds 2021. do not repost.
𝗧𝗘𝗡𝗗𝗢𝗨 𝗫 𝗚𝗡!𝗥𝗘𝗔𝗗𝗘𝗥;
Situated in the hustle and heartbeat of Paris; down in Rue De Rivoli, accompanied by large crowds of tourists or local Parisian’s strolling through the street day to day - and paired with the nearby Tuileries Garden (which offered a quick getaway from the buzz if need be) - Tendou could wholeheartedly say this was the life. Sure enough, even if he was several kilometres away from his motherland and not as active in the volleyball community, he’d still contribute to street games of the sport with the younger generations; the excitement reminding him of his days at Shiratorizawa.
That reminds him, he does need to check on Ushijima, it’s definitely been awhile.
Hearing the familiar tingle of the wind chime just above the door, Tendou is knocked from his musings and thoughts - a customer. Even though the boulevard had its fair share of tourists, the bustle would start to ease once the rush hour of native commuters had passed, leaving the chocolaterie faint aside from the ongoing meaningless conversations in the back.
Pushing aside the chocolate mould, Tendou thoroughly pats down his hands on his apron with a quick shake, and heads out onwards to the shop floor with a wave to his colleague.
Tendou knew he wasn’t the most conventionally attractive of men, often used to the backhanded compliments on his appearance; seeing you fiddle nervously with your fingers, eyes darting aimlessly, he considered calling to his colleague to serve you instead. Maybe his insecurities were true.
He did recall you visiting the area on some occasions, hand in hand with a laptop, a mishmash of what could be an attempt at a journal of sorts, and a packet of newly bought biros. Tendou assumed you were probably a local student studying perhaps art, or fashion maybe (stray papers would often slip out your bag filled with collages of all varieties, usually of clippings from magazines and newspapers).
But after a accidental lock of eyes, he watches you nod to no-one in particular before strutting towards the shop counter babbling out a, ”Je pense que tu es tres beau,” (something sounding along the lines of French, hopefully) and a sheepish smile, he could only watch questioningly back at you.
“Je pense que tu es très beau…?” This time the statement sounded more like an inquiry.
With confusion still evident on his face; the smile falls from your face alongside quiet mutters of, “je suis desole,” and, “c’est tellement embarrassant,” before you clutch tightly onto the straps of your bag, barely making eye contact.
Internally screaming at himself for ignoring the countless opportunities to study French (sure, he could somehow explain that he actually didn’t understand what the hell you were saying, but even so that would result in more confusion) he opts for tapping on the counter to grab your attention, alongside holding a single finger up in a waiting motion.
Usually although he’d have another worker who’d translate for him if he was based at the cashier, rather than being in the back room preparing the desserts, he digs into his side pockets pulling out his mobile, and tapping into Google (there was always a reason for google translate being free), proceeding to change the settings from Japanese to French.
The synthetic voice supplying a, “Je ne comprends pas. Je suis désolé, je ne parle pas francais, je ne parle que Japonais.”
(I don’t understand. I’m sorry, I don’t speak French, I only speak Japanese).
Now seeming to understand, Tendou watches you sigh in relief and take out your own mobile in response (of course altering the settings), typing out fluidly, “So so, watashi wa ima rikai shite imasu. Shikashi, e to, watashi wa anata ga totemo hansamuda to omotta to itte imashita. Jibun no mae ni sugite shinpai deshita.”
(Oh, right, I understand now. But, um, I’d said that I’d found you very handsome. I was worried that was too forward of me).
That was a first. The nicest compliment he’d received had been from Ushijima commenting on his interesting methods of guessing the opponent's ability back in highschool, but that had been it.
Zoning out, he catches onto the movements of someone adjusting the straps of their bag before rushing out of the shop overhearing, “Euh, merde, je dois y aller, j’ai un séminaire qui commence bientôt. Mais je passe demain pour une marquise au chocolat,” he doesn’t register what the hell it means, aside from the realisation of someone giving him a compliment.
And the heat rushing to his cheeks.
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2/30 Days in French / Jours en français
As always, please correct me if you see any mistakes! Comme toujours, n’hésitez à pas me corriger si vous voyez des erreurs!
Pour mon écrit en français aujourd’hui, j'ai décidé d'écrire sur mon emploi du temps qui commence en septembre. Je planifie de prendre un cours de chimie avec un laboratoire, un cours de calcul intermédiaire, un cours de bioéthique, et un cours d'écriture. Bien sûr, je planifie aussi de prendre un cours de français avancé. Mon cours d’écriture se concentre sur le changement climatique. Je suis ravie d’en savoir plus! Je suis un peu nerveux pour mon cours de français parce que je ne sais pas si je peux réussir dans une classe avancée, mais je suis également ravi d’avoir été qualifié pour le niveau avancé. Pour me préparer pour ce cours, je lis un roman en français intitulé « Eleanor Oliphant va très bien ». Ça va super et j’aime beaucoup l’histoire dans ce roman mais il y a 40 chapitres! J'espère que je finirai en temps. Maintenant, je regarde la deuxième saison de « Never Have I Ever » pour procrastiner mon travail. À demain!
For my French entry today, I decided to write about my schedule that starts in September. I plan to take a chemistry course with a lab, an intermediate calculus class, a bioethics course, and a writing class. Of course, I also plan to take an advanced French course. My writing class focuses on climate change. I am excited to learn more about it! I am a bit nervous for my French class because I don’t know if I can succeed in an advanced class, but I am delighted that I qualified for the advanced level. To prepare for the class, I have been reading a novel in French called “Eleanor Oliphant is Completely Fine.” It is going great and I love the story in the novel but it is 40 chapters! I hope I can finish in time. Now, I’m watching the second season of “Never Have I Ever” to procrastinate my work. Til tomorrow!
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Omg bae (respectfully) I need you to write the Companions reaction to Brother Thomas telling the SS to give them all their stuff, as in meaning they kinda have to strip-
(Imma do something a little different and do platonic and romanced separate)
Platonic & Romanced-
"Shit, you aren't gonna offer any caps first? Haha, seriously though- hope you like the taste of your own teeth, bitch."
•if there is one thing Cait can't stand, it's a con man. Even if he wasn't demanding something so radical, she'd still smash his face in for undermining your intelligence.
Platonic & Romanced-
"Ah, i see. I trust we will be issued our very own ceremonial robes, yes? Très bien!"
•Dont..don't trust curie with things like this. She honestly believe they have her best interest in mind. Plus she'll get excited to have a whole new band of people to call friends.
"Civilian, this is obviously a shakedown. Out of mercy, I recommend you reassess the situation. If you persist, I'll take it as a threat to our livelihood and deal with you accordingly."
•Danse usually isn't so quick to be violent, or threatening for that matter, but this was different. If asked, he'd probably brush it off and say that it was necessary so valuable brotherhood gear doesn't fall into the wrong hands..but honestly? His reasons are a bit deeper than that.
"Ask my partner to strip one more time and I'll turn you into a pile of ash, do you understand?"
•As unlike him as it may sound, this may just be an empty threat. At least in the sense that he wouldn't waste fusion cells, he'd just beat the crap out of Thomas. Now, Danse ordinarily would prefer just to intimidate, but for you it was more of his protective tendencies and emotions taking control.
"Hey buddy, at least buy us dinner first."
•He may be cracking jokes, but deacon is obviously very uncomfortable with the situation. He's already scanned the area and figured there was something fishy before Thomas' odd order- so having that bunch confirmed does nothing to ease his nerves.
•The most disturbing part was that he was so calm, flatly telling the preacher no. No jokes, no horrible distractions..just a simple defying word that almost promised horrible consequences if Thomas didn't relent.
"Well boss, you want me to hold him down?"
•Gage would probably kill him just for funsies- but in this case, he'll just slash the clothes off of Thomas' back and make him parade around naked in front of his following. Maybe even whip him with a rolled dirty rag or some shit.
"You've signed your ticket, bitch."
•Won't even hesitate to start beating the shit out of him. It's one thing to disrespect your common sense, another to demand something like this from a raider boss..but it was an entirely more personal infraction to order around his loved one.
Platonic & Romanced-
"Hey, I know you. Didn't Ham knock you out on your ass for your crazy 'salvation' gig? You ain't nothing but a crook- about to be a bleeding one too if you don't step the hell back."
•Hancock would probably make Thomas cry from embarrassment. You don't "mess" with Hancock, especially if you've already proven to be an issue close and personal to his home. It isn't good for the health. And by good for the health I mean..well, look at what he did to fin.
"Hah! You're out of your gourd dude."
•He doesn't even understand why the two of you are here! What's the point? May as well leave this place before he gets fed up and loses his cool.
"I'm sorry, did you just ask what I think you did? Do you want a rear full of lead."
•Initially, Mac would be dumbfounded. Was this clown serious? I mean...the numbers are in his favor..but damn. Even if he doubts he could win, he'd be willing to fight "Brother Thomas" if it meant "defending your honor."
"Civilian, I advise you to not make orders to those above you.."
•He'd probably try to intimidate the cult leader, puffing his chest out and stuff...but honestly he's hoping that Thomas will give it up.
"Do you have any idea who you're harassing? Cease this idiocy at once or I'll take care of you myself- and that's a promise."
•Okay, so maybe Arthur doesn't really want to have to deal with Thomas or his cult, but when it comes to someone threatening the person he loves- especially in such a humiliating way- he isn’t above putting his pride aside and choke someone out like a lowly raider. Also- no one threatens his coat.
"We don't need this..."
•Nick is...tired. Why must you drag him into these kinds of predicaments?
"That's a bold command coming from someone like yourself."
•Don't worry, if Thomas persists- the infamous "beep, beep, beep" prank is sure to follow. That or Nick might call in some favors..
"Haha..you're hilarious...you're joking though, right?"
•She knows he isn't- but she just can't handle anything like this. If you don't do something to ease the tension, she might just slap him.
"Woah, creep. Back off."
•She'll be more civil than she'd like just because he didn't outright aggress either of you, but you bet your ass she'll write as many slandering articles as she can so no one else will join his band of weirdos.
"General, you aren't seriously going to...right? This man is obviously a thief."
•Though he usually doesn't like to pass judgement on others and give the benefit of a doubt, buuuut he can't let this one slide. He just sincerely hopes you won't give in...
"I don't know who you think you are but you've lost your mind!"
•He's never come so close to punching someone that wasn't technically "hostile" before. Preston doesn't even entertain the idea of you complying for funsies either.
"I'm warning you, step away from them now.."
•X6 plays no shit when it comes to someone being even halfway threatening to you. Don't expect him to hesitate "defending" you if Thomas doesn't relent.
*shoots him in the face*
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Manoir de Beauvais: 10 April 1850, 19:00
Marquis de Beauvais: I heard votre mère is dealing with another bout of illness. How is she?
Marquis de Tourac: Truth be told she’s had better days. Though the excitement of the saison has certainly brightened her spirits. All she talks of now is how disappointed she is not beeing able to escort Violette to court.
Marquis de Beauvais: I wish she wouldn’t worry herself with such matters. There’s nothing to worry about. Her health is far more important than escorting ma sœur and curtseying before the famille royale.
Marquis de Tourac: Try telling her that.
Marquis de Beauvais: [Chuckles] En effet...though I do wonder if she’ll survive the end of the year.
Marquis de Tourac: Oui...
Marquis de Beauvais: Jonathan?
Marquis de Tourac: I’d rather not discuss the matter...Do you have any plans to persue a wife?
Marquis de Beauvais: Well...the right mademoiselle would have to present themselves. What of you?
Marquis de Tourac: Ah....truth be told I may have already found her...
Marquis de Beauvais: Qui?
Marquis de Tourac: I am not at liberty to say, but Oscar...she is more perfect than words can express...she’s the one. I’m certain of it.
Marquis de Beauvais: I don’t believe I’ve ever seen you in such a state. I do hope for your sake the mademoiselle whose stolen your heart is to be presented.
Marquis de Tourac: She is.
Marquis de Beauvais: Then if I were you I suggest you stop at nothing to secure her hand.
Marquis de Tourac: I already intend to.
Marquis de Beauvais: Très bon. My...this is certainly a side of you I’ve never seen.
Marquis de Tourac: Considering our long history, that really is something.
Marquis de Beauvais: We are family, Jonathan. Cousins. Not to mention, aside from the Douairière, you are the only family Violette and I have left. It would be an insult if I didn’t know you even a little.
Previous | Beginning | Next
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There’s a first time for everything.
Supercorp, Kara Danvers x Daughter!Reader, Lena Luthor x Daughter!Reader
Word count: 2890.
“How exactly did this happen?” Jamie looks at the F in your test and you roll your eyes to the sight of it. This is bad. This is really bad.
“I didn’t have time to study. But it’s ok, I’ll study for the next one.” You say, agreeing with your head to make Jamie and Maya’s worried expression ease up a little.
“Babe, you should’ve told me you needed to study. We could have had a study session or something.” They’re still worried. You look at Jamie raising one eyebrow, so she knows there’s more to the story. It takes her a few seconds, but she seems to finally realize your life is more complicated than stupid French tests.
“Oh, it’s a one-time thing.” Jamie says dismissing it with her hand. “It’s good, now you know what the rest of us feel when we don’t go so well.”
“Yeah. It’s great.” You joke with a smile, and that seems to be what’s necessary to make Maya less worried.
“We’ll study together for the next one.” She says and you agree.
It’s just when her mom picks her up from school, that you can tell Jamie what was really going on with you.
“Ok, so what really happened?” Jamie asks and you breathe deep before starting.
“Ok, it all started the night before when Kara put her head inside my bedroom to ask me:
“Hey kid. What are you up to?”
I looked up from the books I was organizing on my table to start studying. And since I thought it was something fast, I answered. “Nothing.” While obviously ignoring the books in front of me.
Then she went on like “Well. There is a big commotion downtown, a bunch of aliens got together to destroy some things and the whole place is a mess.” And I just shook my head agreeing because I thought she just went to tell me why she was leaving. But, like, she kept going and she asked me: “Do you want to come with me? I figured we could use some help.”
I was beaming in excitement ‘cause you know it’s kind of hard for Kara to just admit she needs help, so I thought there was probably a hell of a mess there. Which means she really did need my help, right? So, I was like “Wait! Really?”
She smiled too. “Sure! Go put on your-” But I used my super speed to change and I was in front of her all suited up in a blink of an eye. “Suit.”
“Let’s do it!” I ran out of the bedroom feeling like I could fly away just by being invited to it. You know it’s all I ever wanted. Kara seeing me as a person who could back her up during trial times. I was almost out of the house when I heard Lena’s voice from the living room and I came back to kiss her goodnight. So, she was like:
“Where are you guys heading to?”
And Kara said, check this out:
“I need back-up for this fight.”
I mean, she literally said the words I was so eager to hear and my smile just grew wider.
“I’m back-up!” I said, beaming in excitement.
But, well, you know my mom. She immediately went like:
“It’s school night.” She looked at momma. “She needs a good night of sleep.” Like I wasn’t even there to speak for myself! But lucky for me Kara said:
“Don’t worry, love. She’ll help me stop the aliens and bring them to the DEO, and I’ll do the clean up part.” Kara assured mom, who let out a sigh, like she does whenever she knows she is defeated.
“Are you sure you want to go?” She asked, putting her hand on my shoulder. And honestly, I don’t know what she was expecting. Did she think I was going to say no? Anyways, I obviously answered:
“Oh my God, yes! Don’t worry mom, I can handle it.”
Then she was like: “Ok, then. Don’t take too long.” She kissed my cheek, and then Kara’s mouth. “Be careful. Both of you.”
Then I looked at momma, still smiling, and she smiled back super excited. I just couldn’t believe I was going out to have adventures with Supergirl! I always thought I would have to sneak out with Superboy to have them, but then like, momma invited me to it!
So anyways, I tagged along to fight some hellgrammites that were causing trouble downtown. And like, dude, Aunt Alex gave me an earpiece for communication and Rao it felt so good to be a part of the team!
And she would talk to me through it. Jamie, I swear it’s as fun as you can think. So, aunt Alex was like:
“Superkid, be careful with the spikes. They’re strong enough to penetrate metal, it could harm you.”
And Kara was like:
“They also possess superhuman strength.”
And I was like:
“Okay, guys. I know hellgrammites, just chill.”
But like, aunt Alex went on:
“If you can’t win, try using their own spike against them as a last resource, Superkid.” And I was like ‘ok’, And then I hit one so hard he was thrown to a post light, and it bent, and made the light flicker. It was so funny, but I obviously couldn’t say that, so instead I said:
“Sorry. I’ll fix that!” And I flew to him, looking at the spike on his hand. Then I made my voice sound stronger and said: “You can come willingly or I can make you.”
“Pff.” It was his answer. What a dumbass, right? So, I had to keep using my strong voice.
“Got it. I’ll make you.” And then I punched his face a few times until he was unable to recover, and put him in cuffs. And I was so happy I yelled: “Got one!”
I looked at Supergirl, who had already caught the other three. She gave me thumbs up and a smile. Well. At least I kinda helped, right?
“Bring him to containment at the DEO.” I heard Alex’s voice through the comm, and picked up his floppy body and made my way towards Supergirl.
I asked if she was ready and she agreed with her head. So, I picked one other guy up, throwing each one over my shoulders, and I flew into the DEO with Supergirl, putting all four of them in a cell.
Aunt Alex was looking proud of me, which is incredible. You know the feeling! And she went like. “Great work, kiddo!”
“Thanks! That was fun, it was like playing video-game!” I said making them laugh. But then Supergirl went:
“Ok, time to go home. I’ll go clean up the mess they made, and I’ll meet you back there in a bit.” And she was ready to fly away when I held her hand.
“I can help. Still early.” I said pointing at my watch, but I lied ‘cause it was already late. Supergirl narrowed her eyes at me, and I knew she was going to say no, so I said: “At least let me unbend the post light.”
So she went:
“Ok. Let’s go.” Supergirl flew and I flew behind her.
In the end, I ended up helping her clean up everything, and we had to sneak in home so Lena didn’t see what time we made it back home.
And then, when I laid in bed, I was feeling exhausted, but I was so tired that it was really hard for me to fall asleep, so I missed my first wake-up call with Kara knocking at my door, and when Lena woke me up a while later, I was so tired it was hard to focus. But I could never tell her that, ‘cause she would be pissed since she was right in the first place. So, I rolled out of bed and came to school.
The problem was that it takes a lot of effort to shut off my super hearing and pay attention to the test, and I wasn’t able to do that while feeling so tired, hence my F.”
“Well, at least you had a good time supering yesterday.” Jamie says after you finish your story and you agree with your head catching your breath.
“It was awesome! Even your mom looked impressed.” You lean over a pillar and look at her. “Except Lena will be so mad that I got a bad grade, because I was supering.”
“Oh, come on. You can’t do everything. Save National City and get a good grade the very next day.” She said and you think about it. No, you can’t do everything, but you’re supposed to. Besides, school is more important than saving National City since Supergirl could have done it all by herself, clearly.
But Lena doesn’t need to know, does she? It’s not lying if she doesn’t ask you about it, so there’s no reason you will run to tell her about it, right? Right. It’s fine. You’re fine.
But you’re not fine.
“Hey, babygirl!” Lena says when she walks in home later that day, your soul almost leaves your body. You jump so high in your chair; she furrows her brows at that. “What are you doing?”
“Having a heart attack!” You put your hand on your chest, and you feel your heart beating fast.
“You shouldn’t get scared so easily. You have super hearing.” She points out and you think about it for a second. She is right, you shouldn’t.
“I was distracted.” You defend yourself, and Lena comes closer to kiss your head. She looks at the books in front of you.
“Ooh, français. Très bien!” She jokes.
“Mhm, yeah.” You smile through the pain you’re feeling to just blurt it out right there. It’s very hard not to say anything. You hate keeping secrets from your moms. “How’s-How was work?”
“Oh, you know Fridays and meetings. They don’t usually go well together.” Lena says that grabbing a bottle of wine and a glass. “But at least we have family night today, right?”
“Right.” You smile and she excuses herself for a shower (glass of wine in hand), while you finish studying.
Kara gets home a while later with dinner in both hands, but she still manages to push your books out of the way so she can put them on the table. She ended up dropping all of your books on the floor, and you smile at her.
“Sorry, little one.” She bends out to help you with it, and you hear a loud gasp.
“What?” You ask surprised, and you look at what she’s pointing at. “Oh no. Oh no.”
“You got an F?” She yells in pure shock, and your eyes widen at the sound of that.
“Shhh! Will you keep it down, please?” You lower your glasses to make sure Lena is still in the bedroom and can’t hear you. Lucky for you that’s the case.
“An F!” Kara’s still shocked. She picks up your tests and reads it. “You were aware it was a French test, right?”
“Because I’m pretty sure this is English, this is a math equation? And would you look at that! You wrote stuff in kryptonese! I’m not sure she could understand that.” She keeps looking at it, making you blush in embarrassment until you pull it out of her hands.
“I was… distracted.” You say, putting it inside of your book, and looking back at her. “Please, don’t tell mom.”
“Please, mommy.” You try with your sweetest voice. “I’ll study harder for the next one and I’ll get an A, just please. Please. For me?”
“Don’t.” Kara looks at your pouting face and you can see she’s very inclined on hiding this with you. But she blinks twice looking away. “No, that won’t work. The pouting, and the ‘please for me’ bit. You know we don’t do lies in this house.”
“That’s not fair!” You cross your arms, upset. “Last week mom asked you if you ate all the chicken parm and you said no.”
“Are you serious?”
“You broke three glasses when you closed that cupboard a little too strong yesterday, and you told her nothing was broken.”
“Nothing important was broken.”
“Momma!” You pout again. “It’s not fair.” You hear Lena opening the bedroom door and making her way to where both of you are, and you raise an inquisitive eyebrow at Kara.
“Hey honey.” Lena says making her way behind the counter for another glass of wine. She looks at both of you having a stare down on the other side.
“One of us is going to tell her and she would rather if it was you.” Kara whispers close to your face, and you know Lena can’t hear her. You frown, and can’t believe Kara would do that. You can’t believe she won’t have your back about this.
“What’s-” Lena clears her throat, calling your attention back to her. “What’s going on?”
“Oh. Hi, love.” Kara makes her way to the other side of the counter and kisses Lena’s mouth. “Your daughter has got something important to tell you. I’ll go shower so we can have dinner and watch a movie.”
Kara leaves the kitchen and Lena raises her eyebrows at you, encouraging you to start. You don’t. You just look at her, and the book where your test lays inside. And you think about a lie. But you know you won’t lie, so it makes no sense for you to think of one in the first place. So, you get your test out of the book, and you come closer, holding on to it like it’s suddenly going to make it turn into an A instead.
“I, um, have something to tell you.” You sit on the other side of the counter, and she looks at the paper you’re clinging to so desperately. She does her eyebrow raise, and your heart feels like it’s going to stop with the thought of disappointing and upsetting her. Your mouth feels dry, your palms feel sweaty. It’s a whole ‘is this what a heart attack feels like?’ situation, before you can get your words out. “I didn’t do so well on a test.”
“Ok.” It’s what Lena says. She raises her hand at you, and you wince when you realize she will look at it. “Can I see it?” She pushes, once she realizes you’re still clinging to it, like holding onto a wrecked life-boat.
“Can’t you just take my word for it?” It’s your last desperate self-preserving act. Lena shows you her hand again, and you know that’s a clear ‘no’. “Ok.” You breathe out, handing her the paper. She takes it and looks at it, with furrowed eyebrows.
“Didn’t do well.” As in she’s saying that’s a very light way to put what she’s looking at.
“I’m sorry. I’ll do better next time, I promise!” You blurt out. “Please, don’t make me stop supering. Please. I swear it was a one-time thing. This won’t happen ever again.”
Lena puts the test down, goes around the counter and stops in front of you, while you still rumble your apologies. She doesn’t say a word which is very distressing. You wish she would just yell and ground you, just do something, instead of radio silent like right now.
“Ok.” She finally lets out. Ok? What does ok mean? “You’ll do better next time.” And then she hugs you. You take a few seconds to wire your brain and acknowledge what’s happening, before wrapping your arms around her, and letting out a breath you’ve been holding the entire time.
“So, you’re not mad?” You ask, still in shock. Lena gives you a chuckle and whispers softly in your ear.
“I’m not mad.” She tries to move away, but you hold her tightly.
“Still hugging, still hugging.” You say, earning another chuckle from her, and she doesn’t move away. “So, I can still go supering with momma?”
“You can still go supering.” She whispers again.
“And I’m not grounded?” You ask again, and you feel Lena moving to kiss your cheek. You smile, very happy.
“And you’re very much grounded.” She whispers, and finally lets go of you, with a bop on your nose. “But nice try.” Lena gets her wine glass and looks at you with a soft expression. “Can I just ask you a favor?”
“Anything.” You’re so happy she’s not mad, and that you can still go supering, whatever she says, you’ll do.
“That physics formula it’s exactly what I was needing for an experiment. May I steal it?” She smiles, making you smile back.
“Really? Wow, it’s almost like I wrote that for you.” And you have, in fact, because you were listening to her during your entire test. And you feel like she somehow knows that because the English part is the explanation she was giving about the experiment, then you wrote the formula she was trying to come up with, and the kryptonese part actually says ‘I love you, mom’. So, you figured she must have put two and two together and she possibly knows.
“Oh, and babygirl?” Lena adds, looking at you from her wine glass. “Khap ukiem rrip, inah*.”
Yeah. She knows.
*Khap ukiem rrip, inah = I love you, daughter*
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Mini Imagine - Ace Trappola
Sinopse: ❝ As nossas fantasias de Halloween finalmente haviam ficado prontas antes mesmo do dia, e sinceramente nós estávamos incríveis.❞
Contagem de Palavras: 214.
Sinopse: ❝ Our Halloween costumes were finally ready before the day was even out, and frankly we looked amazing.❞
Word Count: 214.
- Isso é tão brega. - Constatou Vil nos olhando de cima abaixo.
- Oh, Roi du Poison, não acha que está sendo duro demais com eles? - Questionou Rook com um sorriso amável. - Vocês estão adoráveis juntos, tenho certeza que terão as melhores fantasias para o Halloween, très bien. 100!
Eu encarei com animação meu namorado Ace. As nossas fantasias de Halloween finalmente haviam ficado prontas antes mesmo do dia, e sinceramente nós estávamos incríveis. Eu estava com uma tiara rosa de princesa e maquiagem pesada com bastante brilho que Vil fez para mim, estava com uma roupa casual que usaria no dia-a-dia e no pescoço estava pendurada uma plaquinha escrito "filtro". Já Ace estava vestido casualmente como eu, uma peruca que se assemelhava ao meu cabelo e uma plaquinha no pescoço escrito "sem filtro".
- Vai virar tendência. - Cater tirou várias fotos enquanto ria de si mesmo. - Vamos, façam uma pose melhor, essa não é muito fotogênica! - Exclamou.
- Não me recordo de como concordei com isso. - Sussurrou Vil emburrado.
- Ace! Agora você pode 'parecer' incrível, mas você vai ver que a minha fantasia vai ser muito melhor que a sua! - Esbravejou Deuce dando ênfase na palavra 'muito'.
- Hahaha! - Gargalhou ironicamente. - Duvido. - Confrontou Ace com um sorriso arrogante.
- O amor é lindo. - Rook falou consigo mesmo.
"This is so tacky." Vil remarked, looking down on us.
"Oh, Roi du Poison, don't you think you're being too hard on them?" Questioned Rook with a kind smile. "You two look adorable together, and I'm sure you'll have the best costumes for Halloween, très bien. 100!"
I looked at my boyfriend Ace with excitement. Our Halloween costumes were finally ready before the day was even out, and frankly we looked amazing. I was wearing a pink princess tiara and heavy make-up with lots of glitter that Vil had made for me, I was wearing a casual outfit that I would wear every day, and around my neck was hanging a little sign that said "filter". Ace, on the other hand, was dressed casually like me, wearing a wig that resembled my hair, and a little sign that said "no filter" around his neck.
"This is going to be a trend." Cater took several pictures while laughing at himself. "Come on, do a better pose, this one is not very photogenic!" He exclaimed.
"I don't remember how I agreed with that." whispered Vil in a sulk.
"Ace! Now you may 'look' amazing, but you will see that my costume will be much better than yours!" Shouted Deuce emphasizing the word 'much'.
"Hahaha!" laughed ironically. "I doubt it." Confronted Ace with a cocky smile.
"Love is beautiful." Rook spoke to himself.
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Bonjour Ranger Rai! My name is Spencre. I’m from Laverre City in the Kalos region but I’m currently on my way to Sinnoh. You see my Aunt is the Gym Leader Fantina and I am being sent to train with her. My Gengar and I are très excited! I haven’t seen Aunt Fantina in so long! What is the Sinnoh region like and more specifically what is Hearthome City like?
Oh well first off let me welcome to Sinnoh!
I've always wanted to visit there, but once Mega Evolution became widely distributed, it's been difficult to make time to go out there.
We've actually had to readjust some of our rescue methods since it happened.
Not as much with Z-Moves though.
As for your stay here, Sinnoh is a Region based in its lore, stories and legends.
You won't be able to go anywhere without hearing about our rich history and how it shaped us.
It's actually impressive how these legends have lasted throughout the ages and remain so fresh.
Gym leaders actually are expected to know alot of our lore, so you will probably be learning alot of that first.
Heartome City is one of the biggest towns in Sinnoh, and it has alot going on.
Contests are probably the biggest events there, but if you want to learn about local cuisine then there are several places to learn and experience it.
Also the Pokemon Fan Club is located here, they are a great non-profit that helps raise awareness for species that are declining in numbers and they like to help put on events to show how special and unique all different species of pokemon are.
Heartome is a pretty nice city, and it's a pretty popular tourist location for most of the stuff I previously mentioned.
Of course contests and the gym are two of their biggest draws as well.
I'd imagine you will have a great time visiting here, just make it a point to visit some of the other cities and towns while you're here, and try to shop locally.
Hope you enjoy your stay!
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Memory Loss // 05
Pairings: Sam Wilson x Reader
Chapter Summary: A potential reunion called you back home to Russia, but you get far more than you bargained for - including your memory.
Word Count: 6,487
Warnings: angst, murder, canon-level violence, language, mentions of alcohol
A/N: Um, HELLO. Who knew I could still write? All the thanks to Sam Wilson for calling me back to this story. Thanks to @allaboardthereadingrailroad, @nacho-bucky, and @samwilsons-pillowpecs for encouraging me to keep writing. And thanks to every single reader taking a beat to check out this story. You are all royalty.
It was a bit cold for spring, but that wasn’t unusual for Moscow. Refusing the respite of warmer days, it had snowed the night before, leaving the sidewalks of Lubyanka Square damp and muddy. The sky above mimicked the feeling on the ground, a gray-colored apathy.
Michail Lebedev, however, was anything but apathetic. He trudged through the snowmelt towards the Lubyanka building, a mild irritation growing over the muck soiling his boots. He preferred to avoid his former place of employment after the fall of the Soviet Union and the dissolution of the KGB. Working mostly in the shadows ever since, a clandestine meeting in an open space was an unnecessary risk, he felt.
But they were finally close. Close to retrieving an irreplaceable asset. Close to finding you.
And that excited him.
Entering the headquarters for the Russian secret police, Michail opted for the stairs instead of the elevator. With each step, the sludge on his boots cleared and his eagerness grew. When he finally arrived at the top floor, the one free of any windows, he was reminded of distant, torturous memories. He took a deep sigh before entering the appropriate room.
A place once used for interrogations, he found two senior-level members of the Federal Security Service of the Russian Federation sitting at a table waiting for him. Michail pulled out a metal chair from the table that screeched against the concrete floor, a purposeful move to rile the men, though immature. When he sat down, he did his best to temper his annoyance at what only could be described as poor replacements for Soviet strength and instead chose to focus on the information that they could provide him.
His voice was terse, impatient. He wasted no time with pleasantries or small talk, he wanted to hear the news.
The two men his opposite responded in kind. Opening the briefing folder before them, they quickly dispersed a collection of notes that spanned months. There were quiet rumblings throughout the winter of a woman frequenting bars in Eastern Europe, haunts known to attract intelligence officers willing to share information for the right price.
She never stayed in one place for long, always equipped with a good cover and a broom with which to sweep her tracks. She was deliberate, intentional. Some might even call her a ghost.
Michail smiled at this.
One of the men tucked the notes back into the folder to then spread a heap of photographs atop the table. There were only glimpses of her at first, silhouettes in a blur across the film. A coat collar pulled up high hid her face in one photograph, another she wore a large pair of sunglasses. She kept her back to security cameras at all times, keen on their presence and eager to avoid them.
It wasn’t until the press clipping that they had any solid proof that the woman was you. Months of careful concealment were shattered when you stepped out of the shadows that fateful day in Paris. Michail wondered if it was a calculated choice or a moment of complacency, but it didn’t much matter to him as it was the key to your retrieval.
More accurately, Alexandre Badeaux was. Between the secret police and the Russian mafia, it only took a few hours to find a connection to the French businessman, and a plan was set into motion.
It wasn’t that Badeaux was an unintelligent man, but he was easily seduced by attractive women and profitable opportunities which made him an agreeable mark. It was reasonable to Michail why you targeted him in the first place.
He would never suspect that the potential business deal was only a ploy to lure him to Moscow. He wouldn’t guess that two box tickets to see the Russian ballet at the Bolshoi were designed to prompt an invitation to you. It was typical business. The men before Michail thought themselves cunning, clever.
But Michail knew what the halfwits did not. He knew it would take more than tickets to the theater to convince you to return.
He wasn’t there when it happened, the day you escaped. Surely, if he had been, nothing would’ve gone wrong in the first place. The wipe would have been routine and thirteen men wouldn’t have been killed. Most importantly, he never would have lost you.
There was an oversight in the procedure that caused the malfunction, as best he could tell. With no living witnesses and bloody carnage littering the place, Michail was only able to piece together so much. The only thing he knew for certain was the reason for the mental wipe, he had agreed to the measure himself.
For months, he could only operate on a single fact and multiple suspicions. That being said, if what he suspected happened actually did, you had to be existing in a state of survival, one of revenge. The only incentive you’d ever have for returning to Russia would be for the asset himself.
This was why Michail took great care in sharing information with various intelligence officers abroad that the Winter Soldier was en route to Russia. A dual homecoming would have presented the opportunity to correct the matter entirely and then everyone could get back to business as usual.
And Michail wanted that very much.
It wasn’t that Sam trusted you. He had heard enough to know that you were emotionally compromised and therefore likely dishonest, but best to keep the enemy as close as possible.
You were his enemy, right?
Unable to explain it, Sam wanted to believe the best in you, believe in your potential. He kept seeing goodness in your eyes that conflicted with the vengeful plan you first shared with him back in Washington and he firmly believed a little bit of goodness was all anyone needed to be redeemed.
He didn’t want to just rescue Bucky, he wanted to rescue you, too.
But would you have let him?
Until he knew the answer to that question, Sam thought it best to keep you by his side otherwise you might disappear again.
Taking you to Moscow was a calculated risk, one he wouldn’t have taken at all if the lead hadn’t come from Fury. His call was sudden; people rarely heard from the former director once he went under the radar. Knowing the task before Steve and Sam, Fury thought the collective murmurs he heard throughout his network warranted reaching out.
It started out as a faint whisper in Belarus that steadily grew louder as it made its way through Poland. It wasn’t long before it was common underground knowledge in the dark alleyways of Germany and Austria.
The asset was returning home.
Willing or coerced, no one could say for sure, only that he was to arrive in Moscow early the next morning which made time a critical factor. Sam wanted to get there before any HYDRA thugs thought to put Bucky back on ice which meant he needed to leave immediately.
“When do we leave?” you had asked.
Sam responded, “if we want to catch him before anyone else? Right now. Let’s go.”
Throwing a handful of cash onto the table, Sam led you out of the bar and to the curb in search of a cab. You slid your arms back into the beige trenchcoat, careful to pull the collar up, before looking up and down the street.
As day turned into night, the spring air chilled. The pastels of the new blooms were cloaked in darkness and the trees yet without buds were a reminder of the long, hard winter. Something deep in your bones told you that things would get worse before they ever got better.
Glancing over your shoulder, you chanced a look at Sam. Preoccupied with his phone, you allowed yourself a longer gaze at the only other man beside your father that you knew to bring you peace.
Sam was kind, unfailingly so. You put a bullet through his body and he did nothing to you in return. You vanished into thin air, but he was patient upon your return. You’d been in the spy game for a long time and it lacked genuine people, but that’s who Sam was. He was sincere.
And you didn’t deserve to have someone like him in your life, yet you wanted him there all the same.
Snapping you out of your thoughts was a dull vibration in your pocket. The phone in your hand illuminated brightly with a picture of you and Alex and it made you grimace. Turning your back to Sam, you answered the call.
He was animated, to put it mildly. Talking quickly and with a stronger accent, his thoughts were difficult to follow. From what little you could pick up, it had to do with his business, a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.
“Allez, on sort faire la féte!” he exclaimed from the other end of the line and you held back a sigh. He wanted to whisk you away someplace to celebrate, but you had plans of your own.
“C’est un très court préavis,” you objected, using his short notice as an excuse to avoid the trip. If you had looked back at Sam at that moment, you would have learned by the recognition on his face that he spoke French.
Alex was not a man accustomed to the word “no.” He got to his position in life by demanding the things that he wanted, but he learned to do it in a way that was alluringly persuasive. A well-practiced smooth-talker, he volleyed your objection.
“J'ai tellement travaillé, laissez-moi me rattraper. Laissez-moi vous emmener au théâtre Bolchoï à Moscou.”
His apology for working too much and an invitation to the Bolshoi Theatre in Moscow was a tantalizing offer, but not for the same reasons that would have enticed other women. You weren’t enamored by the thrill of the world’s finest ballet company. His private jet did nothing to impress you. And the attention and affection of this successful man meant very little.
The electric sensation working its way through your nervous system stemmed from the likelihood that it was a trap.
And what a thrilling trap it was.
A decision needed to be made quickly - should you split up with Sam or keep your promise? You longed for his comfort and security, a connection you’d never experienced, but the opportunity before you was too great.
“Le bien.” You agreed.
HYDRA must have viewed you as a threat. Why else lay a trap? For months, you had been hunting down their precious asset and you had gotten too close for comfort. While it infuriated you that they got to him first, it was no matter.
You would have happily killed them all if need be.
Turning back to Sam, your heart threatened a pang of guilt, but reason won out.
“That was Alex. He invited me on a trip,” you paused, “to Moscow.”
Sam scoffed before shaking his head incredulously, “you don’t believe in coincidences, do you?”
A cab pulled over in front and the two of you got in. As you ducked your head, you answered, “no, I do not.”
Sam got a call about the Winter Soldier making his way back to Russia and, moments later, Alex had a potential business offer and tickets to the Bolshoi. No, you certainly did not believe in coincidence.
The cab drove through the lonely streets with you and Sam quiet in the backseat. In the pit of your stomach, you felt a familiar excitement about seeing the ballet. In a way, it was almost as if you missed it.
Your collarbone was exposed in the dress you were wearing. It was a classic number, solid black with sleeves draped over the shoulders, knee-length. When you pulled it off the rack at a boutique in Moscow, you selected it with the aim of being subtle, unmemorable. The fact that Alex fawned over it was unrelated to your decision entirely.
It was the night of the ballet and he insisted that you needed a new ensemble for the occasion. With the purchase of the dress came a pair of strappy, black heels and diamond-studded earrings along with a clutch by Versace.
Alex was going a bit overboard.
In a brief moment of panic, you half expected him to propose, but his elation was born solely from the dinner to be hosted in a few short hours. The Russian businessman specialized in finance and wanted to discuss a potential acquisition of the company Alex founded. With sparing details, Alex had already convinced himself he’d be a billionaire by morning.
You tried to feign interest, you really did. But as long as you were waiting for word from Sam, it was difficult to truly pay attention. The two of you came to an agreement that you would reconnect in Russia and that he’d walk into the trap with you.
It was then you decided that Sam Wilson made a shitty spy.
But he was a great friend - if that was even what you could call him.
As you secured the diamond studs to your ears, you considered the possibility that the momentary distance between the two of you was, in actuality, a good thing. The fondness you were feeling for him was growing too quickly for your liking. It made you feel weak, dependent.
The vulnerability he created in you also presented the likelihood for mistakes.
Stiffening your back, you reminded yourself that mistakes were not an option. To come this close to finally killing the man that killed your father only to fail? The shame would’ve been harder to live with than the grief.
You hardened yourself against the attraction, the longing for connection, and then you opted to ignore the phone call from the American number when it came through.
You resolved to deal with your affection for Sam after you killed the Winter Soldier.
Sliding your feet into the heels, you walked out the door for a dinner that you suspected would last far too long.
And it did. If it weren’t for the tickets to the ballet, Alex would’ve spent the entire night at the table talking absolute returns, new market exposure, and standard deviations. He was seemingly impressed with the man before him, a Russian kindred spirit.
You wondered how much of that was by design, how much they learned about Alex from profiling him. As a result, you found Alexandre Badeaux to be sickeningly gullible and a fool. Rarely do business dealings go that well and you thought he should’ve known that.
Thankfully, your time together was coming to an end.
The skillful actor bid the two of you farewell outside the restaurant as you left for the theatre.
The ballet company and the accompanying orchestra were world-renowned, but the Bolshoi Theatre itself was a sight to behold. If the country of Russia ever were to have a heart, it’d be there in Theatre Square. The white building with its neoclassical columns stood imposing over its guests, boldly proclaiming that it withstood centuries of torment and wear. Its most recent renovations ensured that it would continue to stand for more years to come.
You appreciated its resiliency, its Russian durability.
Alex’s hand grazed your lower back as he escorted the two of you inside. The crowd present was comprised of locals and visitors alike, eager for that evening’s performance of Swan Lake. You had gently rolled your eyes when Alex shared that detail because of course, it was Tchaikovsky’s best work.
More surprising was the location of your seats. You had expected a box if only to demonstrate a level of prestige and affluence. What you did not expect was the royal box. Its gilded frame and crushed red velvet curtains marked its superiority over the other boxes and offered more privacy.
What could have easily sat eight people, you and Alex had to yourselves.
The theatre was filled to the max, thousands of people already in their seats eagerly awaiting the start of the show. As you and Alex took your own, he draped his arm around you, slowly caressing your exposed shoulder. He was in as good of a mood as you had ever seen him, practically on top of the world. It was a shame, you thought, that it was all about to come crashing down around him.
But you knew he would recover, he would be fine.
The rush of the violins and the accompanying sounds of the orchestra cued the curtain to rise and the dancers pranced onto the stage. Immediately, the audience applauded.
You remembered that feeling - the rush of performing, of being achingly talented, of being invisible.
The crowd looked on in adoration, but your gaze was one of longing. Churning inside of you was a deadly mix of conflicting desires, a concoction of retribution and resignation and escape.
The homesick feeling swirled around in your chest and it confused you. In direct conflict with your knowledge of the organization’s history and atrocities against your family, you couldn’t understand the yearning you felt to put on a pair of ballet slippers.
“Tu vas bien, ma chérie?” Alex noted the strain in your expression and the tight grip you held on your new clutch. He wanted to know if you were okay.
Were you? You couldn’t say, so, instead, you smiled tightly and nodded your head to reassure him. He couldn’t calm your nerves, anyway, couldn’t help you make sense of inconsistent sensations you were enduring.
Only one man could.
Standing up, you briskly kissed Alex on the cheek and explained you would only be gone a moment, just a quick trip to the restroom to freshen up and get some air. As you exited the box, an attendant smiled and gave you directions you didn’t need to the facilities.
In a quiet bathroom stall, you pulled your phone out of the clutch and quickly typed out a message to Sam. With every word, you silently admonished yourself. It was foolish to come here without him knowing you were slipping into instability.
“At the Bolshoi in the royal box. Forgive me.”
Being back in Russia, knowingly entering a trap designed by the people who killed your only family and held you hostage for years, created a storm in your mind. Your memories clouded, becoming more unreliable by the second, and sharp pangs of both grief and excitement were the lighting rods.
Tears formed in your eyes and you resisted their urge to fall. Everything had just become so heavy and exhausting. It was all too much to carry, the weight of the anguish and the terror too much to hold. Desperately you tried to steel yourself, but the confined space wouldn’t let you.
Leaving the stall, you were faced with a large mirror illuminated in soft light. You stood there for a moment, gazing back into your own eyes and begging yourself not to succumb to the fear. To the thrill of the mission. To your attraction to Sam.
You had a job to do and there was little room for emotion of any kind.
It needed to be surgical, sterile. Your final assassination needed to be clean and professional.
It was a job.
You left the bathroom composed, completely unbothered by the disorientation from before. It was as if the storm was never there at all. Had you always been able to flip the switch to cold impassivity? Was it simply remembered training?
Making your way back to the box, the attendant was waiting outside to let you know that Alex stepped outside for a phone call and indicated that he’d return as quickly as he could. You knew that he wouldn’t, that his absence was orchestrated, so you slid back into your seat, watched the prince celebrate his birthday on stage, and waited.
As the young man lamented to his mother that he couldn’t marry for love, a man slipped into your box. A vague awareness of his presence wasn’t what caused you to panic; after all, you were anticipating the ambush. You were prepared for such circumstances.
It was the familiarity of his face that sent a surge of adrenaline through your body.
“Добро пожаловать домой.”
The man was calm as he welcomed you home, there were no attempts to restrain you or any immediate aggression. Together, you studied the other in a dance more delicate than the one down below.
You noticed the lines chiseled into his forehead first. Although his brow wasn’t furrowed at that moment, the wrinkles ran deeply across his face, hardening his appearance. His suit was pristine, but his watch old and scratched to hell. His eyes were an icy blue that pierced your memory.
You knew this man but couldn’t yet say how. Instinct told you to fear him as did the silence between you. A cold shiver ran down your back.
You wondered what he surmised about you after his initial inspection. He had, you suspected, been looking for you for so long. How did it feel to finally find the eluder?
Your refusal to respond only heightened the tension. The music from the orchestra pit got louder, the screeching of the violins flooding the theater and your body, and suddenly the smell of roses filled the air.
“This isn’t my home.”
Your vision went dark before the scene at the Bolshoi was replaced with one of your escape. They were quick clips - browned leather, crimson blood, a distant metallic taste in your mouth. Body after body fell to the ground in your wrath and again you felt that power course through your veins.
When you came back to, the man was still there, seemingly skeptical. So, he pushed.
“Do you remember your last directive?” He asked, a tone of concern the undercurrent of his foreignly spoken words.
By now, panic had fully bloomed in your chest. You were instructed to do a job and failed, presumably. That’s why they wanted to wipe your memory and reset you like so many assets before. You weren’t useful as an emotional wreck crying about your father.
You longed for him at that moment. Desperate for protection and comfort - an assurance that everything would be alright. Instead, the man before you threatened your father’s memory altogether.
And you would not consent to its removal.
Bolting out of your seat and into the hall, you raced for a stairwell that proved to be a reliable exit. The spring chill outside whipped your face as you opened the door and the sound of thundering footsteps warned of a quick follow. The urge to fight and the plea to flee battled within you when all you wanted was your father.
“Why am I always alone?” You asked the wind.
You weren’t expecting a response. “You’re not.”
Sam, a determined guardian angel of sorts, emerged from the shadows. He came prepared this time, his wings firmly secured to his back and goggles positioned on his head.
“You’re not alone, I’m here - no matter how hard you push me away. Now,” he took your hand into his, “let’s get the fuck out of here.” The two of you ran away from the Bolshoi into a darkened alley, but the Russian wasn’t far behind.
Darting through the slush that would freeze again that night, you and Sam hooked into what seemed to be an abandoned building. Floral paper peeled off the walls and there was a musty scent that prickled at the edges of your mind, begging your body to succumb to another memory-driven blackout.
Emotions were a luxury you could not afford, so you swallowed them whole in favor of focusing on the fight to come.
You slipped out of the dampened heels bought just that morning. It’d be easier to fight without them, easier to run, too. Your head rounded over your shoulders in preparation while Sam monitored the readings in his goggles. Any minute, he said. The man and supposedly a few comrades would arrive any minute.
The world became quiet as the universe within you strengthened. You were a Widow, you reminded yourself. The best, the strongest, the most cunning. Killing these men would ask nothing of you. It would be a blink and then you could move onto the asset himself.
You were calm when the men walked into the room, Sam standing behind you.
“Please, let’s not do this the hard way. Come home with us, let us correct the malfunction,” the man with the wrinkled forehead implored.
He said it as if it was a choice, as if he was deferring to your preference, and it confused you. It scrambled the confidence you felt mere seconds before.
“Do you really not remember me, босс? It’s Michail. We don’t want to hurt you, but we can’t stay here.”
This man, Michail, was trying to cloud things, take advantage of your disorientation. But Sam was having none of it.
“Nah, she isn’t going anywhere with you. We’re here for Bucky Barnes, where is he?” He moved then and positioned himself in front of you.
Michail’s blue eyes froze over at Sam’s interjection. Visibly annoyed at the nuisance, the unexpected pest, he craned his neck around him to look at you. “Your taste in friends has certainly deteriorated.”
As Sam bantered back and forth with Michail, you measured the three men behind him. They were the Russian standard - blonde with blue eyes, donning worn leather jackets and empty expressions. You considered each of them carefully, but recognition never came.
Quickly you shifted. The man to the left kept adjusting his leg, his knee twitching every so often. It’d make for an easy target if it was already injured. Meanwhile, the guy in the middle was stupid enough to leave his pistol in the front of his pants facing his dick, so that problem would take care of itself. Michail was older and didn’t seem the type to throw a punch.
That left the guy on the right.
He had a familiar look in his eyes, empty and far-off. He was tall and his shoulders broad. In his hands, he firmly gripped a rifle with a suppressor at the end of the muzzle.
He was detached, but undistracted. Fully unemotional, but physically prepared. You admired him.
He would be the one to put up a fight and you looked forward to it.
“Listen, Vladimir. I’m tired of this conversation, so this is what we’re going to do. You’re going to tell me where Bucky Barnes is, I’m going to bring him back stateside, and then I’ll let you live. But not if another word comes out your mouth.”
It was Sam’s tone that snapped you back to the discussion at hand. There was an edge to it, a gruffness you hadn’t heard before, and it ignited a curiosity within you.
It didn’t have the same effect on Michail. Apparently, he had suffered the conversation long enough as well. With a nod of his head, he instructed his three henchmen forward.
You didn’t wait another second.
Sprinting past Sam in your bare feet, you lunged for the guy with the poorly-placed pistol first. A swift punch broke his nose, stealing his attention as you unlocked the safety of his gun and fired the shot. Blood spilled from his crotch as an agonizing howl left his lungs.
His pal with the bum leg rushed to his rescue, but the heel of your foot quickly connected with his knee cap and he collapsed to the ground like a deck of cards. Still gripping the borrowed pistol, you swung it across your chest and shot him in the shoulder. Two down.
Spinning around, you put Michail in a headlock with the muzzle of the pistol shoved into his temple. Your heart raced as you looked around the room to find it quietly empty. “Where is Sam?”
Sam, along with the strongest of the four, was missing. In your haste to take out the easy marks first, Sam must’ve gone straight for the muscle.
“Босс, please.” He trembled against you and it registered that he was afraid of you. “Босс, come back to us. Allow me to make everything right. The organization will fall without you.”
Deeper the muzzle dug into his wrinkled skin, “where is Sam?”
Looking up, you saw a freshly-made hole in the ceiling and determined Sam took the fight upstairs.
“The asset will take care of the stranger and then we can leave. You wouldn’t want us to leave behind witnesses. Trust me, босс.”
In frustrated confusion, you slammed the butt of the gun into his head, knocking him unconscious. Crumpled on the floor, you looked at him with disgust. “I’m not your boss.”
A flash of black blurred your sight and you begged your mind to hold on long enough to get to Sam. Stumbling through weathered hallways, you leaned against the walls for support as your memory ravaged your vision and the foul odor of rotting roses soured your sense of smell.
The flight of stairs nearly took all of your energy, but you found him. The newest asset in the Russian arsenal had just ripped one of Sam’s wings from its pack and you realized that this man was likely injected with the super-soldier serum. You gripped the doorway as his fist drove into Sam’s face repeatedly, blood staining his lips and nose.
The only sensation you felt was exhaustion.
You weren’t afraid of that man or of anyone else in the Widow organization. You were incredibly uninterested in understanding why Michail thought you were his boss. The revenge on the soldier who killed your father? Fuck it, you just wanted out. You wanted far away from the pain and the torture and the fear.
The Russian had Sam on the ropes, but Sam was a strong a capable guy. If you were to leave him, he could’ve possibly won. His persistence alone would’ve made you take that bet.
But you cared for him.
Granted, your memory was shit, but Sam was the first person you could truly remember seeing you for who you were, who you could have been. He didn’t give up on you despite knowing your truth. And, if the roles were reversed, you could trust that he’d rescue you.
So you dove in.
The rifle the soldier was carrying was gone which was a relief. You didn’t have to worry about disarming him or taking a bullet to the chest. Simple hand-to-hand combat - your favorite.
Your moves were aggressive, pushing him further and further back into a defensive stance, but he blocked every attempt. You were rabid at first, a year of pent-up fury finally liberated, but the pace tired you quicker than you anticipated and your blinks grew longer as the blackout loomed.
As if he knew you needed him, Sam appeared on your left, and you were revitalized. Side by side, you fought with distinction, with intuition. Your instincts shifted from offense to defense as you prioritized protecting Sam over yourself.
With a flicker of your eyes, the fight was gone, and instead, you were watching the ballet. You blinked again and you were back in the fight. Stuck between the two dances, you were on the brink of collapse. You feared you couldn’t keep it up much longer when Sam finally dealt the final blow.
You fell to the floor alongside the Russian soldier, your dress ripped and the soles of your feet cut. You couldn’t keep your eyes open any longer, the flashes were too much to bear. You hoped by closing them, the world on the other side would finally take you.
Sam scooped your head into his lap and cupped your face in his hand. As his thumb gently ran over your cheek, he pleaded for you to open your eyes. “Come on, baby girl. Stay with me. Open those eyes so I can see ‘em.”
His voice was a hymn that shone light onto the dark world you lived in. His face was the happiest thing you’d seen since you were young. He was the protector your father must’ve sent in his own stead.
You opened your eyes to see Sam’s face battered and bruised, better resembling life as you knew it. You attempted a smile to reassure him, but it was weak.
“Let me take care of you, Y/N. Let me take you with me to New York where I know you’ll be safe,” again, Sam begged.
Assessing the damage done in such little time, you wondered if you were really the one that needed protecting, but you nodded anyway. With Sam was where you wanted to be. You wanted the rest he was offering.
It didn’t take long for the two of you to make it to the quinjet where Sam insisted you sleep. He helped you lie down on a cot and pulled a blanket over you, assuring you that wouldn’t miss anything on the long flight.
You fell asleep to the sounds of Tchaikovsky before another dream took you.
You always liked London in autumn. The smothering heat of summer subsided, making way for a cooler breeze. Unfortunately, wouldn’t be staying long - a single mission and it was back to Moscow. The car pulled up in front of the apartment and you waited for the borrowed asset to come around and open the door for you.
It was a dilapidated place. The shingled siding barely clung to the building and the windows were in dire need of repair. Even the knocker on the door was crooked. Not that it mattered, you didn’t intend to knock.
When you got the request from the government, you were unsurprised. The administration had little tolerance for political interference and needed this British spy extinguished, but they preferred to keep their hands relatively clean. They were generous, however, by loaning you their prized soldier.
It took a while to find the agent, the MI6 kept him well protected, but your organization still managed to locate his safe house.
The asset kicked open the front door and led you down the tight corridors, his rifle drawn and metal arm shining. The living room parlor was empty as was the study. You followed closely behind as the scent of a dinner roast drew the two of you to the kitchen. It was there you found him, tending to whatever happened to be on the stove.
“I knew you’d come. Eventually.” His voice was resigned already and it disappointed you. You were hoping for a little excitement, some resistance. It was boring when they went along with it.
“Why bother running if you knew we’d catch you?” Your tone was one of indifference, but you were genuinely curious. The psychology of cat and mouse fascinated you. Most prey ran on instinct and it made the chase all the more invigorating.
“It may seem strange in your particular line of work, but my life isn’t mine alone. It belongs to others.”
One could forgive you for originally thinking he meant MI6 or even his country. You briefly considered distant family or friends. But when a child’s laughter erupted in the backyard, all of the dots connected.
Seeing your changed expression of amusement, he was filled with sheer terror. “Please. Do whatever you want to me, but don’t hurt Abigail. She’s just a girl.”
There was the thrill you were hoping for! A little begging, a little pleading. It kept the job interesting. Your eyes danced with delight over the possibilities, but first things first.
“I really don’t think you’re in any position to make demands, Mr. Williams. As it stands, I’m the one with a trained killing machine and orders to see you dead. I am not, however, getting paid for chit-chat.”
With your instruction, the asset marched into the kitchen and behind the man. Placing his metal arm on his left shoulder, he forcefully shoved Williams onto his knees and trained his rifle onto the back of his head. Now, he just waited for your command.
Before you could make the call, a little girl bounced her way into the kitchen for what was to be dinner. She was dressed in a bright, golden sweater and gently used sneakers. When her eyes met her father’s, the wisp of a smile disappeared from her face.
She looked from her father to the asset to you in an attempt to understand the scene before her. But you knew what she did not - that the only way for a child to understand death, truly understand it, was to see it for herself.
“Dearest, do close your eyes. It will all be over soon.” A tear fell down Williams’ cheek as he begged his daughter to shield herself from the violence. The asset kept his eyes on you, waiting for the order.
“Daddy!” Abigail looked at you and screamed, “don’t, please!”
“I love you, my darling Abby. For always.” His voice was soft, almost a whisper and Abigail clenched her eyes shut.
“I love you, too, daddy.”
For you, it was all over rather quickly. You nodded, the soldier followed his orders, and Williams lay dead on the kitchen floor of the “safe” house. Nothing too ceremonious. Hardly involved. Yet, the girl insisted on screaming. She wailed and wailed, beating your side with her tiny fists.
“Take care of this one, won’t you? Can’t have any witnesses.” You slid your hands into a pair of gloves. “I’ll be waiting in the car.”
You turned your back on the child and the asset to leave the apartment. A spray of rose bushes lined the sidewalk. You hadn’t noticed them before, but they made you smile at the irony and you decided to pluck one to take with you. In the car, you took a moment to call your second in command, Michail. You instructed him to notify the Director of Russia’s Foreign Intelligence Service of the success of the mission and retrieve payment.
Leaning back in the passenger’s seat, you closed your eyes as the shot fired.
When you opened them, you were lying in a bed in New York with Sam sitting by your side.
Finally, you understood. Your mind had parsed through the fantastic and arrived at the truth. A dream so pristine that it was akin to watching a film of your past, it was unlike the others with their illusory details.
You were not the girl, you were the killer.
A woman known as the Unnamed Rose, you were a product of the Black Widow Program and the current leader of an elite group of assassins for hire. No one knew anything about you - your origins, your nationality, your allegiances. Because you didn’t have any.
Grief that never belonged to you washed away from your body, only to be replaced with a keen desire to leave this place. You didn’t need Sam’s protection or care, nor did you want it. You wanted to return to Russia.
Your affection for him grew cold as his eyes found yours. “Good morning, sleeping beauty, you’ve been out for some time.”
54 notes · View notes
I recently started reading Spy x Family. The only proper way to express how much I loved it was to make fanart of it, of course.
It's the first time I did a complete drawing (and most of all, painting/coloring) with my tablet! Exciting stuff
Il y a peu, j'ai commencé à lire Spy x Family. Ce manga m'a tellement plu, le seul moyen approprié de lui rendre hommage était le fanart, évidemment.
C'est la première fois que je fais un dessin complet (notamment en allant jusqu'à peindre/coloriser) avec ma tablette! C'était très cool
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Some Favorite Fics from 2020
Like last year, I want to end 2020 by highlighting some fics that have become favorites over the last twelve months. Before I dive into it though, I just want to take a minute to send some love to all of the authors writing in this fandom.
As of the end of 2019, there were about 8.8 million words of fic on AO3 for this fandom. This year, more than 450 authors have added another 15 million more. That’s so incredibly impressive, especially in a year this difficult. Thank you, thank you, thank you to every single person who contributed to that, whether you wrote one fic or a hundred, a drabble or a novel. Thank you for giving this fandom the gift of your creativity and voice. Your work is so, so appreciated, and you’ve helped to create joy in a year where it was often in short supply. 💗💗💗
Okay, on to the fics. I’ve limited myself to no more than one work for any individual author to spread the love around as much as possible, and I’ve bumped up the number to 25 this time around because there was just too much fic this year for me to cut it down any further.
So here we go. These are 25 fics I loved this year, and what I love about them...
Your heart is keeping time with me by yourbuttervoicedbeau • rated E • 33k+
confession before i start: i’ve never actually seen 50 first dates. but i thought this AU based on it was delightful. patrick’s love for david is so big, right from the start, and i love seeing david lean into trusting himself (and patrick) over and over again
will this ever get old? by startswithhope • rated T • <1k
i just like seeing them domestic and soft and happy, okay? and while most of dee’s fics are like that, this particular one is a fave because of them thinking about their future and how they’ll change over the years but love each other right on through
Just to Hold the Hands I Love by DesignatedGrape • rated T • 20k+
it’s like a warm christmas hug, full of musical trolling, gentle pining, domestic nights in, and careful attention to fashion details, which are all absolutely the kinds of things i appreciate
A Case of You by DoubleL27 • rated T • 6k+
patrick is an absolute menace in exactly the way you would expect every valentine’s day. it’s funny and sweet and ends with them in exactly the kind of future we all want for them
Dulce by another_Hero • rated T • 1k+
original characters can be hard to do right. they have to be compelling enough to fit in with these characters we already know so well, and dulce is the kind of character who grabs you from the start. the whole series is lovely, but this first interaction with ronnie is my favorite of them
Tea-Kettle Love by ArabellaStrange • rated G • 5k+
even though this coda to “the pitch” isn’t technically canon compliant now, it still feels a lot like it is. it’s about the sacrifices we are and aren’t willing to make for the people we love, taking the new york discussion into more depth than we get in the show and still arriving in largely the same place
Vanquished by Codswallop • rated G • 3k+
if you’re looking for soft, fluffy sickfic, this is not it, lol. patrick is sick here but won’t let anyone take care of him. he’s stubborn and basically minor chaos ensues. it’s funny and sweet but not schmaltzy. the characterization is 👌, and it feels like the kind of thing that fits perfectly into the world of the show
To Come Out the Other Side by unfolded73 • rated T • 4k+ • warning for major character death
i don’t want to read sad things about david and patrick very often, but sometimes the mood strikes. this one is definitely sad right from the start, but there’s hope and resilience through grief, and i think this year especially, there’s something to be said for stories that can make you feel like there is still good to be found after the bad
Hold Me Like You’ll Never Let Me Go by moodlighting • rated T • 21k+
i never would have thought that a fic would make me WANT to be trapped in an airport, but it’s 2020 and anything is possible, lol. this is what meet cute dreams are made of
Your mother keeps a spreadsheet by upbeat • rated G • 3k+
obviously i love a good spreadsheet, so this one was up my alley from the start, lol. but really it’s moira and patrick bonding through the cataloguing of her wigs (and all the stories that go with them) that makes this one an easy favorite
keep me in the pulses, keep me in the sound by dinnfameron • rated G • 2k+
this sweet little slice of a summer vacation made me ache to be with friends. plus, sometimes you just need some overwhelmingly happy david rose. he deserves it, and so do we
eggs and the flour, no higher power by withkissesfour • rated T • 1k+
i’m pretty sure this fic is the definition of sweet, in more ways than one. it’s a short piece, but the writing is lush and indulgent in all the right places, just like the cakes being described
sustineo by rockinhamburger • rated E • 10k+
before i was even done reading this fic, i wanted another 50k words set in this universe. the conversation between david and patrick is sharp in all the right ways, and because this david has such a hard shell to crack after being hurt in such a horrible and heartbreaking way, it’s that much more satisfying watching patrick break through it
All-Natural Care, Locally Sourced by Siria • rated T • 2k+
siria’s fics are always funny, with banter that’s so perfectly on point, and that’s certainly true here. but there are also care packages and photos and just so much love. it’s a perfect balance, just like the show
hold on to me as you go by helvetica_upstart • rated T • 3k+
i love a good look at just how long patrick has been head over heels in love with david and how much he was in this for life all along. this fic does just that through the framework of times that they saw their new house before they bought it, and it’s everything that you would want that concept to be and more
Exposed Brick by swat117 • rated M • 9k+
this is such a lovely look at david and patrick a few years into their marriage, steady in all the right ways, even when old fears try to rise up between them. it gives david a chance to be the solid and supportive one in the relationship, something i never get tired of reading
We Could Turn the World to Gold by middyblue • rated T • 27k+
as someone who also did c25k at one point, i def empathize with david’s plight in this fic, lol. as much fun as that part of the story is, it’s really the house and everything related to that part of the story that makes this a favorite in my book. this was posted very early in s6, so it’s not the house from canon, but it’s beautiful either way to see them so excited about building their future together there
Waiting on the Day by High-Seas-Swan • rated E • 22k+
this is another fic that makes me absolutely ache for things i couldn’t have this year, namely my favorite local brewery and all the nights spent there with friends. beyond that, it’s just a very sweet AU, and the scene with their first kiss and the rest of that night live in my head rent free
Pot o’ Gold by ahurston • rated E • 22k+
where is the leprechaun/love of my life who’s gonna take me out to eat all of the best foods that my city has to offer? this one is a slow burn but their relationship is so much fun to read right from the start that you definitely don’t mind taking your time getting there. also, the palm reading scene. good grief.
there is no design by the_hodag • rated T • 12k+
this fic gives us a look at some of david’s art, and all the loneliness and love that inspires it. it’s poignant and painful and hopeful and sweet in turn, and i think it does a marvelous job of capturing so many of the facets of david’s past that have made him who he is
A Little Broken, A Little New by nameless_bliss • rated G • 3k+
i’ve read this fic several times now, and david and johnny having a conversation about their own relationship through the guise of talking about patrick and his parents never fails to make me cry
Une très bonne table dans sa catégorie by cromarty • rated T • 23k+
just the concept of this one alone would have sold me on it—like, hello? michelin reviewer and chef? sign me the fuck up—but it’s written with the kind of attention to detail i always expect from claire’s writing, and the fact that it practically starts with a first kiss but then pulls back makes for a delicious dynamic as they build a friendship over that foundational attraction, both tempering and intensifying the wait for them to find their way back into each others’ arms
happy golden days of yore by blueink3 • rated E • 17k+
i literally stopped in the middle of this fic, sat down on my kitchen floor, and had a good cry. i hate thinking about them ending up divorced in the first place, but even as exes, they’re so careful and gentle with one another and so, so clearly still in a forever kind of love. that makes it bearable to see them apart because even if it weren’t tagged for a happy ending, there’s such a feeling of inevitability to it, you know exactly how it’s going to end and just get to enjoy the devastating ride it takes to get there
Fifteen Hundred Miles by MoreHuman • rated M • 30k+
this is one of those fics where everything comes together just right and achieves a perfect balance of introspection and action, courage and fear, despair and hope, forthright honesty and cautious reservation... MoreHuman makes it all look easy, which says so much about all the care that had to have gone into the planning and writing. this fic does everything well, and it’s an absolute pleasure to read from start to end
840 Havenwood Road E by Distractivate • rated E • 10k+
we barely see david and patrick’s new house in the show, so it shouldn’t be possible for me to be as emotional about it as this fic makes me, every single time i read it. but it’s the home they chose, the place they decided to build a life together, and getting to see flashes of that life through the years and how much love they clearly had for each other within those four walls just makes me cry again and again
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Sentence Starters! Rare Pair Warning: Aoyama tickling Todoroki "It's been a year, we should get along right?"
"It's been a year, we should get along right?" Todoroki spoke in his regular monotone voice towards the sparkling boy who held a wide smile.
“Why of course, mon amie! Who wouldn’t want to sleepover with a dazzling fellow such as myself?” Aoyama grinned, holding a hand to his chest in an almost annoying confidence. Todoroki kept face, however, only nodding and walking back towards his bedroom in assumption that the french student he wanted to call a friend would follow, and follow he did.
Once inside his room, Todoroki sat on his bed and looked up towards Aoyama with no expression whatsoever, almost weirding him out a little bit at his complete blankness. “I want to learn to be confident. Maybe not as confident as you, as you can be quite annoying with your ego at times, but at least more confident than I am now. That’s why I’ve invited you here.” Well, his words were as blunt as ever, Aoyama would give him that.
Even with the backhanded comment, Aoyama was still excited to give this surprise lesson to Todoroki, and was more than happy to help a friend out with something like this. He just smiled wide at Todoroki, sitting down on the bed in front of him. He noticed the blank look on his face was still there, and Aoyama just rolled his eyes.
“Be happy, monsieur! You’re about to learn to love yourself, are you not très excité?” Aoyama said, but only got a quirked eyebrow in response. Sure, it was getting somewhere, but definitely not what he wanted. Aoyama just huffed, swiftly moving himself behind Todoroki and leaving the boy even more confused than when he tried speaking French to him. “Be happy, mon amie! Laugh!”
Aoyama pressed his fingers into Todoroki’s exposed neck, the boy instantly scrunching it up and falling backwards onto Aoyama in a heap of giggles and shrieks, feet kicking at the bedsheets as his hands slapped at Aoyama’s on his neck. Aoyama just chuckled at his predicament, before bringing his hands down to tickle the boy’s stomach that was now open to him thanks to Todoroki falling on his lap.
“Nohoho! Wahahait! I’m-FFFFFAHAHAHA NAHAHAA!” Todoroki screamed when he felt Aoyama’s fingers dart quickly into his armpits, digging mercilessly into the boy’s most sensitive spot.
“Ooh, have I found your worst spot, monsieur?” Aoyama teased with a grin, scratching and massaging deeply enough to get the boy to cackle belly laughs sweet enough to give a cavity.
“YEHEHS! NO MOHORE! I’M HAHAHAPPYY!” Todoroki cackled, the smile on his face only further evidence to prove his words true. Aoyama smiled, stopping his attack on the boy and letting him catch his breath in his lap.
He smiled down at Todoroki, tilting his head like a puppy. “Rule number one in confidence, Todoroki; be confident in your emotions. Show them when you feel them!”
Todoroki looked up at Aoyama from his laid down position, taking mental notes and nodding with his mouth slightly agape and cheeks still slightly flushed from the attack.
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day 10 of french | jour 10 de français
if you speak french, please read below the cut and correct me if you see any mistakes :)
Hi all! Yesterday, I did not post my writing because it was short and I wrote about my family to practice so I did not want to publish it online, but today I am posting again! This week, I have been watching a lot of Outer Banks and the second season is incredible! I know that once I finish watching it, I will be more productive, but right now I can't stop! Now, I am watching the ninth episode before the finale. Anyway, yesterday I applied for a job in a lab. I received an interview for next week so I hope it goes well! I listened to the news in French to practice my listening skills. It is a bit difficult, but I know it will become easier with time and practice. I will try to listen to it daily to improve. It is interesting to hear what is going on in France anyway, so the news is very interesting for me. In less than a month, I will be moving into university! I am super excited and a bit nervous. I hope all goes well!
Salut à tous! Hier, je n’ai pas posté mes écrits parce qu'ils étaient courts et j’ai écrit sur ma famille pour pratiquer donc je ne voulais pas le publier en ligne, mais aujourd'hui je poste à nouveau! Cette semaine, je regardais beaucoup de « Outer Banks » et la deuxième saison est incroyable! Je sais quand je finirai de le regarder, je serai plus productive, mais maintenant je ne peux pas arrêter! Maintenant, je regarde le neuvième épisode avant la finale. En tout cas, hier j’ai postulé pour un emploi dans un laboratoire. J’ai reçu un entretien la semaine prochaine donc j'espère que ça se passera bien! J’écoutais les nouvelles en français pour pratiquer mes capacités d'écoute. C’est un peu difficile, mais je sais que ça deviendra plus facile avec le temps et la pratique. J’essayerai de l'écouter tous les jours pour m'améliorer. C’est intéressant d’entendre ce qui se passe en France quand même, donc les nouvelles sont très intéressantes pour moi. En moins d’un mois, j’emménagerai à l'université! Je suis très ravie et un peu nerveuse. J'espère que tout ira bien!
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L'heure du bilan des films et séries que j'ai vus ces dernières semaines a sonné !
Les randonneurs (film, 1997)
J’avais un vague souvenir de ce film, je pensais que c’était marrant mais vraiment pas ouf en fait, je sais même pas quoi en dire, c’est un groupe de 5 amis plus ou moins proches qui font une randonnée et y a pas trop de rebondissements ni de blagues franchement je me suis fait un peu iech ?? J’ai rien ressenti pour ces perso, j’y croyais pas en fait, je les voyais jouer. Juste Benoît Poelvoorde joue vraiment bien franchement convaincue par lui mais les autres bof pas trop, beaucoup d’ennui aucun rire je ne conseille pas.
Deux moi (film, 2019)
C’est l’histoire de deux parigots qui vivent leur vie chacun de leur côté et vont pas bien et vont chez le psy. J’ai vraiment beaucoup aimé !! Les musiques sont cools et les perso sont cools et y a petit chat mignon et bon je suis in love de François Civil car il est irrésistible c’est tout comment ne pas être in love de lui je vous le demande je le sais déjà qu’il est bg j’ai commencé le film en me disant pfff trop beau trop charmant je vais certainement pas tomber dans son piège mais son perso est trop mims à la fin du film j’étais conquise évidemment bref très bien et je repense souvent à des scènes du film depuis que je l’ai vu ce qui est la preuve d’un bon film pour moi !
(S)ex list (film, 2011)
Ça c’est un des films que j’ai regardé quand mon keum était parti chez ses parents, à chaque fois qu’il part au début ça va puis au bout de 3-4 jours je me mets à regarder les pires merdes car je suis au bout de ma vie je dors pas assez et je regarde uniquement des films nécessitant d’utiliser 3 neurones max. Donc (s)ex list c’était pas si mal sur le principe, c’est une gonze qui lit dans un journal féminin que les meufs qui dépassent 20 partenaires sexuels finiront seules donc elle compte et elle en est à 20 du coup elle se dit olala je suis obligée de me marier avec un de ses 20 et avec l’aide de son voisin qui est fils de policier et sait donc enquêter sur les gens (si si c’est comme ça que ça marche, c’est comme le fils du vitrier qu’est transparent), elle retente sa chance avec chacun d’entre eux (sauf les déjà mariés, en couple…). Pas mal d’acteurs connus : Chris Evans, Chris Pratt, Martin Freeman… donc ça passe. La meuf principale c’est Anna Faris et sa voix quand elle hausse le ton est horrible je l’ai détesté pour ça mais peut être aussi parce qu’il était 1h du mat et que je manquais de sommeil. J’ai su dès la première seconde du film avec qui elle allait être et vous le savez aussi sûrement en lisant ce résumé mais bon on regarde pas ce genre de films pour être surpris hein
50 shades of grey (film, 2015)
Bon là mon keum était parti depuis 5 jours j’étais au bout du bout plus que 2 neurones actifs, j’avais jamais vu ce chef d’œuvre figurez vous et j’étais un peu curieuse et bah c’était super naze, j’ai jamais vu un film à la fois autant tourné sur le sexe et aussi peu excitant y a r y a pas une once de complicité entre les 2 acteurs c’est horrible je pense que Machin Grey (je sais plus son prénom dsl) est un psyhopathe et que la gonze est tebê j’ai ressenti énormément de mépris pour eux malgré ma grande fatigue je sais même pas quoi dire c’était tellement nul et il se passe rien réellement et ça n’a aucun sens le mec est hyper je veux pas de relation à part du sexe mais il la présente à toute sa mif au bout de 2 jours ?? il est bien plus engagé dans une relation que n’importe quel mec en couple dans le monde en plus il la suit partout ptn de psychopathe. Et au début elle dit genre qu’elle a jamais ken mais alors elle est quasi direct prête à se faire attacher dans sa salle des horreurs là. Si t’as 0 expérience et qu’on t’emmène là dedans je pense que tu fuis ?? Même si t’as été marié 3 fois tu fuis je pense, il la présente très mal en + bref je sais pas je hais ce film pk j’ai regardé ça jamais je me pardonnerais
I am Mother (film, 2019)
J’ai bien aimé sur le coup, je m’attendais à un film de science fiction un peu sale même si @mel-et-ses-histoires l’avait très bien vendu dans un post (c’est la seule chose qui m’a donné envie de voir ce film d’ailleurs). C'est l'histoire d'un robot qui élève un bébé because c'est la fin de l'humanité en gros (je raconte très mal mais allez voir le post de @mel-et-ses-histoires elle résume bien mieux). Donc finalement j’ai passé un bon moment en le regardant mais les personnages sont pas très charismatiques je trouve et je vais vite oublier ce film je pense. Donc sympa mais pas marquant.
Malcolm and Marie (film, 2021)
Zendaya est magnifique comme d’hab sinon le principe du film c’est de passer 1h45 à regarder des gens beaux en train de s’engueuler en noir et blanc. C’est un huis clos ce qui donne un petit côté étouffant mais totalement volontaire je pense. Du coup c’est pas un super moment et c’est pas non plus super marquant mais c’est quand même pas mal je dirais 6,5/10 quoi
Why Women Kill (série, 2019)
La nouvelle série de Marc Cherry et ça se voit on retrouve bien des similarités avec Desperate Housewives ce qui n’est pas forcément pour me déplaire lol, un peu plus moderne quand même mais toujours très américain cliché. En gros on a 3 couples à 3 époques différentes (60’s, 80’s, aujourd’hui) dans lesquelles les 3 femmes ont commis un meurtre mais sur qui ? pourquoi ? comment ? C’est ce que la série raconte. Aussi, petit truc rigolo, tout se passe dans la même maison. J’ai apprécié le fait qu’on ait une saison avec une vraie fin et pas un machin sans fin qui s’étale sur 40 saisons avec toujours plus de mystère. Donc globalement j’ai passé un bon moment et j’ai regardé les épisodes très très rapidement (et encore j’étais ralentie car je regardais avec mon keum lol), je conseille pour passer un bon moment mais pas la série de l’année non plus.
(Clairement Beth Ann is the new Bree Van de Kamp)
Normal people (série, 2020)
Cette série raconte l’histoire de Marianne et Connell et de l’évolution de leur relation du lycée à leurs 30 ans environ. Je l’ai regardée en genre une semaine, j’ai adoré, j’aime tellement les deux personnages et leur relation et leur évolution, c’est triste et c’est joyeux et c’est beau. Je faisais exprès de regarder pas trop vite car je voulais pas les quitter lol. Je l’ai finie y a au moins deux semaines voire trois mais honnêtement, j’en suis toujours pas remise. J’ai apprécié chaque moment de cette série depuis la première minute, le coup de foudre a été immédiat. Bref 10/10
(je les aime tant)
Killing Eve (série, 2018)
Une série de qualité (j’ai pas fini je suis au début de la saison 3) mais qui me fait parfois un peu chier, les épisodes sont pas équivalents en qualité je trouve donc ça monte ça descend on est !!! puis on est … bref globalement c’est quand même très bien hein mais si je regarde pas pendant 1 semaine ça me dérange pas. Mais les deux actrices principales sont incroyables et globalement tous les acteurs sont très très bons ! et ça fait plaiz une série centrée sur des persos féminins sans être une série "pour femmes" (même si ça veut rien dire de base mais vous voyez ce que je veux dire je pense).
Sinon c’est une série que j’associe totalement au Cruesli c’est des céréales avec des flocons d’avoine et du chocolat, et j’en ai mangé plein de fois en regardant cette série et du coup à chaque fois que je regarde un épisode, j’ai envie de ces céréales par une espèce de réflexe pavlovien. D’ailleurs là je vais regarder un épisode de cette série et manger un bol de ces céréales si vous voulez tout savoir bye
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