#meet single russian women

[look-at-the-soul]

Every little thing you do- Part 3

Tommy Shelby x reader

Series master list

A/N: I’m sorry I couldn’t post this past Saturday something came up, so next part will be posted on next Wednesday and so on until I go back to post each Saturday. ♥️ Thank you for reading and engaging in this little idea! It means a lot!

Word count: 3,038

After listening to the doctor assure her that the baby was fine last week, Y/N had a lot of time to think and digest all the major changes she was about to face. She couldn’t help but stay up at night and cry endlessly on her own, but after a few days Y/N had finally made a decision. It wasn’t easy, but like her grandmother had said, she didn’t have many options.

Polly had also talked to her with her heart on her sleeve. She had assured her that in the end, women did well with or without a man by their side, her own husband passed away after getting too drunk, Tommy’s father wasn’t the best example to lead a family, Y/N knew too well how their relationship ended up, Ada had married Freddy only for him passing away too soon and she had raised Karl on her own.

She was right, but there was a huge difference, regardless of the useless men in their lives, they still had their last name as support. It didn’t mean anything, but legally it granted them more rights than being a single mother. The injuries on her back had been healing, she was now able to wear her regular clothes and even though she still flinched at times from the pain, it felt nice to move around more freely.

At least she had a place to sleep and food to eat, so at the moment she got it covered. She needed to save as much money as she could though, she had to think of the future.

Staring out the window, she noticed Tommy parking outside, so she rushed downstairs.

“Tommy,” Y/N greeted him. He had been to London, but barely stayed for a night. “How was your trip?”

Tommy hesitated for an instant. Under different circumstances he would’ve shared the new business Mr. Churchill had mentioned at their meeting, but he thought Y/N already had enough in her plate to add anymore pressure. He was still deciding how to manage everything with the Russians and until he got clearer instructions he’d try to keep her out of it.

“Good. I still need to go back next week though.” He followed Y/N into the kitchen, placing a small paper bag on the table. “Brought you something.”

Y/N filled two cups of the tea she started earlier and as she was about to take them to the table, Tommy rushed to get them from her hands.

“I can walk around with them, Tom. I’m only pregnant.” Y/N chuckled at his sudden protectiveness.

“Yeah, what if you feel dizzy? You could burn yourself.” He added worryingly.

But Y/N was busy drooling over the bread Tommy brought.

“Well?” Tommy gave her a long look as he added sugar to his tea.

Y/N looked up at Tommy with her mouth full, the bread was so good!

“Oh! Right… I just wanted to ask if you’re still good with the idea of me living in Arrow House? I don’t want this to cause you troubles with someone.” She took a deep breath and stared down at her hands.

Tommy blinked a couple of times in confusion. “Problems with who? What do you mean?”

It was hard to put her feelings into words, the right words as a matter of fact. Lately she had been having lots of big feelings, lots of things to be afraid of…

Y/N moved nervously. “I’ve never been noisy about your personal affairs Tom, and I don’t want to be in the middle in case you’ve a-a you know… a woman in your life.” She admitted, her voice trailing off by the end.

He squinted his eyes, not quite believing what he just heard. Then he started laughing, a loud, genuine laugh. “This is ridiculous, you’ve nothing to worry about.”

Only then, she dared to look at him, to read his expression.

“Is this what’s keeping you from accepting? Y/N, look,” Tommy took a few steps towards her, his hands found their way to her cheeks to make her look at him. “I’m going to help you no matter what. Just tell me if you accept or not, I’ll take care of the rest.”

They have had each others back over the years, and now it wouldn’t be different.

“I do need to ask you for a favor though.” Y/N folded her arms. “I will need that job you offered me as secretary a while ago.”

“But you’re pregnant.” He protested.

She was already shaking her head. “I don’t want your pity or charity, I need to work.”

With a sigh, Tommy found himself nodding in agreement. She was stubborn and wouldn’t stay still for too long.

“Deal. Although if you feel sick…”

“I’ll take it easy, I promise.”

This time, it was Tommy who pulled her in for a hug, grateful because Y/N accepted the help he was offering genuinely.

“What made you change your mind from your initial decision?” He asked with curiosity.

Y/N took a sip of her tea, feeling grateful after noticing her stomach was taking it nicely. “My grandma helped me see it through. This is the most decent offer I’ll probably get.”

“So you’re accepting because it’s your only option?” Tommy teased.

“Shut up.” She shoved him slightly on the shoulder.

She still needed to send a letter to Lady Winchester to let her know she wouldn’t be able to return to work. Until now she had lied and said she got sick and didn’t want to risk her, but she needed to digest this upcoming change first.

Later that week, Y/N had officially moved into Arrow House. She didn’t own many things other than her clothes that her grandmother managed to take from her house, her hairbrush and a small bag that Polly gave her. So here she was, on her way to an unknown future full of uncertainty, but with a little baby growing inside her. And the incondicional support of the people who were so close to her heart.

Everyone in the Shelby family had been nothing but kind and welcoming to her, offering to help her carry whatever she had on her hands, telling her how they would welcome the baby with a peaky cap and defend her from cruel comments.

Her eyes danced around, she still gasped at the sight of the spacious foyer, the only difference she noticed is that it now had more furniture and different curtains.

“Mary.”

“Good evening Mr. Shelby, may I take your coat?” A maid welcomed them, moving fast to get the coat from him, she then pointed at the briefcase. She even had uniform!

“This is Miss YL/N, she’ll use the guest bedroom I asked you to prepare.” Then he turned to face Y/N. “Mary will help you with everything, please make yourself at home.”

“Nice to meet you.” Y/N admitted with a smile, but deep down she was in shock to see that a maid was practically guessing Tommy’s every move.

“Of course Mr. Shelby.” The maid gave her a subtle look, but didn’t ask any more questions. “Follow me Miss.”

Turning around, Tommy changed his mind. “Actually… Mary take her suitcase upstairs, Y/N come with me.”

Feeling overwhelmed, she followed him, crossing a huge room, Tommy explained her it was his office, he was holding the door open for her to walk in.

“An office! Look at this place… it’s bigger than our kitchen and living room together.” Y/N couldn’t believe this, she took her time to take everything in; the impressive desk, the endless bookshelves -some where still empty-, the fireplace. “You got a painting?!”

Tommy looked down, understanding her surprise. “Is it too much?” Sometimes it all felt surreal to him.

Y/N didn’t think it was her place to point wherever it was or not too much, he could do whatever he pleased with his wealth.

“It’s just I’m not used to all of this.” She shuddered.

There was something different sparkling in his eyes. It was like she was watching the boy with big dreams and killer smile all over again.

“Yeah… me neither.”

Tommy took a long puff of his cigarette, but Y/N wrinkled her nose.

“Are you feeling sick?” He noticed the sounds she made, she was holding her stomach with one hand.

“I think it’s the smell of the cigarette.”

“Shit.” Tommy opened the window and curtains to allow some fresh air to get in and then he stomped his almost untouched cigarette on the ashtray. “Better?”

“Thanks.” She then chuckled. “Sorry I don’t want to be a burden for you.”

“Hey it’s fine, it’s just a cigarette.” He waved at the air to keep the smell from concentrating in the room.

A knock on the door caught their attention, Y/N even jumped in her seat a little.

“Mr. Shelby, dinner will be ready shortly.” Mary announced.

He nodded and asked for a glass of water for Y/N.

“This feels so surreal if you ask me.” She made a funny face that made him laugh.

“I guess I’ll get used to it.”

Pouring some whiskey into the new glassware set he got, he thought about it.

“Look at us.” Y/N said absently, her face moving towards the ceiling. “Who would have thought you’d get a place like this and I’d be expecting a child without a male support.” She rubbed a hand on her still non-existent bump.

Tommy clicked his tongue and gave her an offended look. “What about me?”

“You know what I mean.” She added after noticing his eyes fixed on her.

“How about dinner?” He offered his hand to Y/N. “Let’s see what the chef prepared. Ey?”

Earning another chuckle from Y/N guided her towards the opposite end. A huge table set just for them.

“There’s another painting!” Y/N pointed through gritted teeth.

A huge portrait of Tommy hanged immaculately on the wall. She could barely keep up with the things going on in her life, but it seemed to be surprise after surprise with his own news.

“Just ignore it.” Tommy suggested taking his place at very end, right under the painting. “I needed to spend some money.”

Rolling her eyes at him, Y/N joined him unsure. “Where should I sit then?”

Patting the place next to him, Tommy stood up. “Right here, next to me.” And he held the chair for her, like a true gentleman. A gesture no one had ever made towards her.

“Are you sure I can’t sleep downstairs? I’ll take me forever to walk down… image how I’ll roll down once I get all heavy?”

The image of her swollen stomach invaded his mind for a second, Tommy stopped with his hand holding the glass midway, until he shook his head a little.

“You always love to exaggerate it, it’s not so big.” He added as come back.

“It’s huge and you know it.” She added just before the maids brought their plates.

Y/N was about to take a bite of her food when she noticed something.

“Tommy.” She whispered, making Tommy lean forward. “Do they have to stay there and stare? This is awkward.”

Tommy laughed freely.

“Mary, would you give us a moment?”

“What if you need-”

“I’ll call you.” He interrupted.

She was surprised to see them following Tommy’s requests in a heartbeat. They were eager to please him in every possible way.

“This is insane, they’re watching your every move.”

Tommy chuckled unsure of what to say, he was still trying to adjust to this new lifestyle, trying to be part of a select club to fit in the upper class.

“Well I’m paying them a ridiculous amount of money.”

“You know what I mean.” She stated smirking.

He did, of course he did.

This was the kind of things people like he and Y/N could only dream a few years ago.

“Just enjoy it, you’ll get used to it.”

He smiled at his friend, understanding her confusion. A major change like that in his life didn’t happen overnight, it took time and a lot of effort to built the fucking empire he now owned. It was about damn time that he started getting a small luxury like that property or the service for the place.

Y/N had to admit the food was delicious, she had never tasted anything better than that meal.

“I’m really proud of you.” She expressed as they finished. “It’s like you made your dreams come true, you made it out of Small Heath not from the back door, you made it through the main gate.”

Tommy swallowed hard, Y/N was the only person that had celebrated with him the small victories just as the big ones. He was lost for words, to realize that she felt proud of him meant more that he could express.

“Would you like dessert?” Mary asked folding her hands.

Turning to face Y/N, Tommy realized the way her eyes sparkled. “Just one for her, please.”

She groaned. “This is going to be a problem, you’re going to make me put on some weight with all of this food.”

“Well you need to feed that baby.” Tommy leaned his elbows on the table.

“You don’t even know how grateful I am to have you in my life, you’re saving our lives.” She touched his arm.

“That’s what friends do.” He chuckled as he saw her mouthwatering expression over the plate.

A few moments later, Tommy walked her towards her bedroom.

“This is insane, a small living room inside my bedroom?!” Y/N couldn’t believe how spacious it was.

“There’s the walk in closet, and this additional wardrobe, the vanity… everything you might need.” He added pacing around, slowly. Hands hiding in his pockets. “I think you will particularly enjoy this.”

He then pointed at the window seat. Y/N gasped in surprise, she hadn’t noticed it.

“Woah… Tommy.”

When she turned around, Tommy noticed the tears in her eyes.

“Hey what’s wrong?” He stepped closer.

“You’re just so good to me, I can’t thank you enough for providing a roof to sleep under.” Y/N sobbed.

Her vulnerability broke him. It tore him apart to realize how hard this was to her. His arms found their way around her immediately.

Emotions coming out in the form of tears.

“Y/N… talk to me.”

“It’s just…sad to see my own family doing this to me. The days I spent at Watery Lane, they never went to ask how I was doing.” A sudden sob interrupted her explanation. “To check if I needed something.”

He didn’t know what to say, her family’s message was clear and he could only imagine how she was feeling.

“But you’ve my family,” he offered rubbing her back, “we’ll be with you every step of the way. Try to forget about it, you need to be calm.” He then took a step back, but kept touching her arm, “Think of your baby.”

That seemed to do the trick, because his words made Y/N smile.

“You’re so right.” Y/N took a deep breath. “Scott made his choice and so did my family. From now on it will be this baby, me, Grandma, you and the Shelby family. That’s all I need.”

A half smile appeared on her face. He knew the process wouldn’t be easy, it’d take her some time to rebuild herself, but she had the determination and courage to carry on with whatever obstacle life decided to make her face.

A flash back ran through Tommy’s mind, he went back to the warehouse and he could still hear Scott’s pleads for his life. The blinders had been playing with him for a while and Tommy took his time. But when he faced him, Scott’s eyes were fully swollen, an ugly lip cut and several bruises all over his face.

“You thought you could fuck off like a rat?! Ey?!” He shouted in his face, yanking his hair so Scott could be face to face with him. “Thought it would fun to mess around with Y/N?”

A twisted smirk appeared on Scott’s lips, and it didn’t go unnoticed by Tommy so he moved his hand back and hit him hard across the face with his fist several times.

“This is for fooling Y/N.” Tommy announced and kicked him.

“And this for not taking responsibility over the baby.” He kicked Scott between his legs this time. “Fucking coward.”

Now, with Scott lying on his back groaning in pain, Tommy stepped over him, holding him by the shirt with one hand. “And this for telling me to fuck off.”

It took three blinders to make Tommy step back, he was determined to finish him. He had to take deep breaths through his mouth from the exertion and adrenaline rush. His heart was pumping so hard and fast against his ribs.

“I want you out of the city and you better never come back. Because next time I’ll fucking kill you.”

End of flashback.

“You’re safe now.” Tommy helped her gently to sit on the edge of the bed. “You can have a new beginning here with your baby. I can assure you, you’ll get everything you need.”

Tommy offered Y/N his handkerchief.

“You deserve everything good in world Tommy.”

She knew that he meant every word, and most importantly, he’d keep his promises.

“Now have some rest, you’ve been through a lot.” He groaned as he stood up.

“At what time should I be at the office?” Y/N asked when her friend reached the door.

“8:00 o’clock,” he winked, “but I’ll drive you. Good night.”

As she thanked her best friend one more time and wished him good night, Y/N stared at the spacious bedroom. It was unbelievable, a dream she was afraid to wake up from.

Her heart still felt heavy for not having her family’s support, but in some way she felt secure and protected under Tommy’s wing.

And for now, that was enough.

Part 4

Master list

Tag list: @lyarr24 @runnning-outof-time @cillmequick @datewithgianni @cloudofdisney @gretelshelby @garrison-girl-08 @lespendy @onlydeadcells @fastfan @stevie75 @prettylittlehoneyeyesxoxo @esposadomd @forbidden-forest-witch @ange-thoughts @moral-terpitude @elenavampire21 @forgottenpeakywriter @thenattitude @winchestergirl22 @zablife @elk96 @blondie-22 @imichelle-l-rigby @allie131313 @already-broken144 @peakyscillian @babaohhhriley @shaddixlife @sloanexx @sydneyyyya @lau219 @adaydreamaway08 @pono-pura-vida @thomashelbyswife @darleneslane @lauren-raines-x @everythingelseisextra @kmc1989 @red-riding-wood @lovemissyhoneybee @theendlessvoidofdarkest @wannabeperfectionists-blog (can’t tag) @yeppaweshallsee (can’t tag) @skydisneylover (can’t tag) @holacia3 @galactic3a (can’t tag) @mysticalbouquetwolf-posts @ietss @abaker74 @natalie--rushman @elliaze @justrainandcoffee @teawonderfultea-blog1 @galactict3a

[clairewritesjjkxreader]

Yakuza x Cinderella AU Part 1 (Sukuna x Reader)

A/N: I listened to Sukuna’s Russian voice dub while writing this. Gave me some cool gangster vibes.

Everyone would have understood if you shed the “Itadori” name after old man Wasuke passed away, and no one would have blamed you if you walked away from being Yuuji Itadori’s legal guardian. After all, you just started college, you didn’t need to be “burdened,” especially by a kid you weren’t even related to.

But there was no way you could leave eleven-year-old Yuuji alone. You grew up changing his diapers, taught him how to ride a bike, cleaned up his boo-boos, and threatened his bullies. 

He was your family.

Prioritizing your baby brother and his future above your own, you decided to bartender at a fancy but sleazy bar. Although the majority of patrons were assholes and the place was too far from your house and the university, the pay was better than most other part-time jobs so you sucked it up.

Between your job, mandatory onsite classes, group assignments with lazy jerks, and taking care of Yuuji and the house, you could never afford to sleep for more than three hours a day. 

But Yuuji was, of course, an angel. 

He didn’t like to show it, but you knew he missed gramps, and you often caught him biting his lip to suppress his whimpers and wiping his eyes with his back turned to you. He did his best to appear strong, but you wished he’d rely on you more. But the little tiger never stopped doing his chores and liked offering to do yours.

“I can’t get a part-time job yet so all I can do is take care of the house and everything else!” When he said that, you swore an arrow pierced your heart and you almost died from fluffiness. 

Seeing Yuji’s bright smile was the only thing that kept you going, especially after a long day at the bar.

That’s where you met Ryomen Sukuna. He was the single most irritating bastard you’ve ever had the misfortune of meeting. It wasn’t like he was a sleazebag per se–he was actually more of a silent, brooding type compared to the handsy, foul-mouthed drunkards you usually dealt with. At least, that was your first expression of him.

It was nine pm and your five minute break was almost over so you sent Yuji a good night text and a reminder to lock the doors and windows. You brushed your hair and went to your post behind the bar. 

This place was in the inner city, far from most schools, so it was rare to find college students here, but it was a Friday and the end of finals week so the place was jam-packed with depressed people. You didn’t mind. Actually, you preferred having a bar full of university kids over a bar full of working adults. You liked college students. They were… nicer, more polite and patient compared to their older counterparts, who were usually middle-aged career men and women whose dreams have been shattered by the real world. Your regulars were broken and pathetic, and they often liked making their problem yours. You’d “listen” to their ramblings, nod and pretend to care, when in reality their words just went in one ear and left straight out the other.

You didn’t like talking or socializing. You left that part up to the waitstaff and prepared the drinks as quietly as possible in order to avoid trouble.  

It was nearing one am, almost time for you to go home. You finished wiping the last piece of glassware when the store bell rang. You didn’t bother to even pretend to be polite this time and continued cleaning up, waiting for one of the waiters to tell the guest that the bar was already closed. But that didn’t happen. 

“The VIP room is a little unclean right now, so if you’re willing to wait–”

“What do you mean unclean? You should always keep it ready,” a cold, androgynous voice reprimanded.

You were annoyed. And a bit confused. You’ve been here for several weeks now and you just found out about this so-called VIP room. And up until now, the personnel here always shooed away all customers during closing. 

“It’s fine, Uraume,” a deep, husky voice interrupted. “I’m fine waiting here. Just get me my drink.”

You raised your eyes and saw a tall man in a white dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, bringing attention to his… big veiny hands and sinewy arms, lined with black tattoos. 

“O-of course!” Your boss clasped her hands together. “Please excuse me, I’ll get the sake ready in a bit.”

As if sensing your gaze, your tall, red-haired stranger turned his head, revealing a face also full of tattoos. You blushed but composed yourself and bowed in greeting. You refused to make eye contact again though, too embarrassed that you were caught ogling. He was more gorgeous than most idols and sports players that showed up on TV.

“On second thought, I think I’ll sit at the bar.”

Ah, crap. 

“Oh, um…!” Your boss fumbled towards you, putting a hand over your shoulder. “Th-this is Y/N. She’s new. Really new, I don’t think you’ve met yet.” It felt odd watching your usually calm and charming boss act like this. She was the one who dealt with perverts and other difficult clients, all without getting too emotional or stuttering, but she seemed almost afraid of this man. “Y/N, this is Mr. Ryomen Sukuna, he owns this bar.”

That name certainly felt familiar, but you sucked at names, and as for his face… you glanced up at his smirking face. Yeah, there was no way you’d forget a guy like him. Even if you just saw him walking down the street for a split second you would remember him for sure. 

Your boss squeezed you and you quickly bowed your head again. “Um, hello, thank you for the opportunity.”

“You seemed irritated when my companion and I walked in.” 

“No, you must be mistaken.”

“Really? You couldn’t even be bothered to greet us. Bartenders are supposed to be friendly.”

You just tilted your head, contemplating on what to say next when your phone started ringing from the counter. Mr. Sukuna swiped it before you could blink. 

“Hey!” Your sudden burst of energy shocked you and your boss. You slapped a hand over your mouth. “Er. I mean… I apologize.” 

“Shouldn’t phones be on vibrate during work hours?”

“It was on vibrate. We’re supposed to be closed now.” Welp. You were already as good as fired so you didn’t try to cover up your weariness. Yuji sometimes woke up randomly in the middle of the night. He was probably wondering where you were. You held out your hand. “Can I please have it back now? Sir?”

Like you just told the world’s funniest joke, he threw his head back, laughing heartily. 

Despite your boss almost fainting on the spot thanks to your little stunt, you didn’t get fired. Sukuna seemed absolutely smitten with you–that is, as much as an owner can be smitten by a pet hamster. 

It was the beginning of an irritating, one-sided relationship. 

Ever since that day, Sukuna began frequenting the bar more often. Sometimes three times a week, other times almost daily. Rather than stay at the VIP room, he’d hang out by the bar and find many ways to piss you off, like hitting on you, annoying you until you talked about either Yuji or your classes, and asking you to make some complicated cocktail he heard from a business partner, only to then insult it (he’d always finish the thing though). At the very least, he didn’t try touching you inappropriately. And plus, his childish fascination with you meant he demanded you hang out with him immediately after you finished preparing someone else’s drink, so you didn’t have to listen to other people whine about their lives and you didn’t have to make up excuses with the more gropey customers.

To be continued…

[femoso-seben]

Humanoid Monster

Part 1, Part 3

Laswell sighed as the delegation dragged on. Of course, neither side sent their leadership only lackeys to demand impossibilities for the others to complete. They still tasted blood in their mouth for their fallen. The human delegation was a man called Vladimir Makarov, a young Russian who led his paramilitary group in deep Siberia.

“Why should we agree to these terms?” Makarov asks, how he knew, or let alone who taught him English was beyond Laswell. Most humans don’t know more than one language. Rarely do they speak the languages of countries far away from them. Humanity is landlocked. It was a way to ensure humanity never teamed up to defeat the monsters.

“Why should we agree to your request either?” Laswell sneers her wings twitching, from her anger. She read about this man, how he slaughtered many monsters and used their pelts as decoration. He was fighting for a greater Russia, with only humans in it, abolishing any monster or hybrid in sight. A human utopia!

They were talking in circles, Switzerland’s military standing at watch ready to shoot both delegations dead if given the chance. They weren’t achieving anything here.

“Since this is a peace treaty give us the names of your task force,” Makarov asks, Laswell knew it was personal for him. 141 and he was in a long constant struggle.

“Give us the files on the Pale Death, White Fang, Angel of Death, and Hunter.” Laswell strikes back. Each one of those women caused so many problems, that they must have been resistance rebels.

Makarov pursed his lips and glared at Laswell, “We’ll give you the files for White Fang and Hunters. As for the Angel of Death, she wasn’t one of us, but as for the pale death? No, we will not.”

“Then you will only get the files on, Roach,” Laswell spoke. It seems like Makarov is only giving information on the dead so she’ll do the same. Makarov frowns.

“Deal.” They both knew a single member of Task Force 141 was far better than any human, dead or alive, all except for the Pale Death.

By the end of the meeting, they had only agreed to share files of the dead and nothing more they merely moved a single inch to the finish post. As Laswell walks out Soap, Price, Graves, and Ghost we’re waiting for her.

“Where’s Gaz?”

“Helping the Hapries to fly,” Soap rolls his eyes, “the human woman can’t even raise a harpy! They should need the least amount of training!” Price touched his shoulder silencing the Sergeant.

“What happened?” Price asks.

“Not much, I was able to get information on White Fang and Hunter,” Laswell sighed.

“Those two are fucking dead, at least get the Pale Death—”

“Their delegate is Makarov,” everyone froze and a low growl imitated from all of them.

“He’s here? That terrorist?” Ghost steps closer to Laswell.

“C’mon let’s review the files maybe their connections, sure White Fang and Pale Death worked together,” Laswell spoke up.

Jezebel reappeared and began to lead them to a place outside of the meeting point, a spacious military camp where they were staying. It was more like Switzerland wanted to watch them, making sure they didn’t unpack them negatively.

Laswell hands over the packet to Price, Ghost, Graves, and Soap. They slowly scan through the files.

White Fang:

name: Belinda Wolf

Age: 23

Height: 5’9”

Weight: 140lb

History: grew up on a resistance compound deep in Akaska forest. Grew up hunting animals to survive. Favorite targets were werewolves said they were the apex of trotted a hunter could win.

statue: KIA

The photo was of a plan-looking woman, nothing remarkable, but for Soap he felt a sense of victory over this wretch. He hunted the White Fang down and butchered her like she butchered his troops. He hated her flesh making sure she was truly dead.

Hunter:

Name: Rawiya Abadi

Age: 31

Height: 5’4”

Weight: 120 lbs

History: The daughter of a wealthy (free) man she grew up owning and hunting exotic animals. She soon turned radicalized and began to hunt down every predator species of hybrids for their pelts and horns, wanting to collect every type of monster.

Status: KIA

“We’ll these aren’t helpful.” Price grumbles.

“A bunch of psychos.” Soap drops the file onto the table.

“We’ll theirs one thing for sure,” Graves spoke up, “White Fang didn’t work together, and White Fang came after Hunter.”

“What are you insinuating?”

“Maybe their master and apprentices? After all, they share the same M.O. two hunters, maybe they did meet up but it’s not stated here.” Graves continues.

“We never found Hunter’s body, maybe Hunter set up that compound and trained up an apprentice?”

“What about mother and daughter?” Ghost brought up.

“That could be plausible,” Soap said.

“Makarov said the Angel of Death isn’t connected to the resistance forces.”

“That human is lying.” Soap sneers his sharp claws poking out.

“It could be plausible,” Ghost spoke up. “The Angel of Death was in deep monster territory, to be a resistance force is unlikely as it was hard to pick that human out of a crowd. She acted like one of the enslaved.”

“That one is most likely inspired by the resistance.” Price grunts out.

“The fact Switzerland allowed a killer like the Pale Death to live here is insane,” Soap said.

“Mother Maia… how insulting.” Graves notes, “The Pale Death working with our children?”

“I bet Maia isn’t her real name,” Soap mutters.

“Agree,” Price grunts out smoke leaking from his maw.

“Why don’t we do some recon whilst we’re here” Graves stands up, “Price you stay with Laswell, Ghost asked the young Gargoyles about their life, and I will talk to Mother Maia.”

“What are you planning?” Laswell folds her arms, “Shepard wants a smooth deal where we get our concessions.”

“I know, but something feels fishy about this place.” Graves adds, “It feels… stage.”

“Let me—“

“I want you and Gaz to watch the children, and see if their body languages give anything away.” Sops clenched his fist but nodded and sat down.

—————————— /\ ——————————

Gaz looked at the little harpies their little down feather wings gathered around him like lost chicklings looking for their mommas. He felt himself smiling at the small yet wide-eyed little owls just staring at him.

Pricilla is seventeen, and the oldest person there. She had also spent the longest time at the orphanage.

“So you’ve been an orphan this long?” Gaz asks.

“No, Mother Maia is my adopted Mother,” Gaz eyes widen.

“When did she adopt you?”

“I was eight.”

“Does she have any other kids?”

“No,” Pricilla sighs. “She cannot adopt anymore, in Switzerland only monsters can adopt monsters, same with humans. We came to Switzerland mother and daughter,” Gaz nods and looks at all the little Hapries.

“There’s so many children here,” Gaz mutters there were at least fifteen harpies of flight age.

“Many monsters abandoned their injured kids here, many of them have actual parents who don’t want them, but a small few made it here on their own… the human orphanage is way more kids.”

“Human orphanage?” Gaz questions.

“A lot of humans give up their babies because they can’t care for them, some are given up because their parents died after arriving.”

“how do you know this?”

“We all go to school together.” Gaz’s mouth drops. Humans? Monsters! Together? In school! No way!

“We’re gonna narrow their football field for this flight practice.”

“… you know this land used to not be Switzerland,” Gaz said as they walked a mile to the place.

“I know it was a part of France, right?” Pricilla answer. Gaz nod.

“We monsters don’t use the old colonial name the humans created.” Pricilla nods, she soon arrives at a school and there a few humans are playing.

“Jakob,” Pricilla calls out, a blonde boy, around Pricilla’s age wave.

“We need to barrow your football field.”

“Why?” He asks walking over to the fence of the tennis court.

“Flying practice!” Pricilla cheers.

“I’ll go tell Gramps he can turn on the lights.”

“Thank you!”

“You seem friendly with that human,” Gaz said trying not to growl at her. How could she forsake her kind and be around humans? Doesn’t she know they are destructive and cruel?

“He’s my classmate.” She bashfully said. Cold realization dawned on Gaz this young harpy like that human. He was a decent-looking boy but it made his blood boil.

By the time they reach the football field, the lights turn on.

It was going to be a long night, the sun was setting and they had a few hours to teach them. The wind picked up, his wings flared out and the older harpies watched him, eyes wide and eager to learn.

Gaz couldn’t help but smile at these small harpies taking flight, their wings clumsily flapping in the air.

Taglist: @kkaaaagt, @kaoyamamegami, @1234ilikecowsthanyoumore

[wereallydobevibing]

Oh, to Find Love in Russia | Konig x Reader

I used to post my stories on tiktok under the username @codlover but I figured since tiktok might get banned I should delete that account and post it here. Here’s one of the stories.

Feel free to use my work as a prompt/inspiration. Better yet, feel free to write your own ideal part 2 just MAKE SURE YOU CREDIT AND TAG ME.

WARNINGS: Mentions of injury, specifically written for my delulu girlies💕

The ice, cold air of a wintery Russia rushed through your body like death through Pompeii. With your lips an ungodly shade of purple and your fingers feeling so stupidly numb, you follow the public map displayed on the side of the nearest building to meet a short term comrade in a common tourist area.

It took you some time, having never been to Russia before, but you eventually find yourself walking alongside a very large man who names himself König. He leads you away from the tourist path and into a market area where you both enter a less than busy bar. You agree you’ll talk here, where it was warm and your shivering didn’t hinder your ability to speak.

The next two hours was a conversation of confirming your roles here and the goals that were set to be accomplished – you both were sent to gain intel, but König’s main focus was to serve as your armor, and gaining intel was especially assigned to you, dear reader.

You were not a special forces operator because you were big and strong, or because you had a particular set of skills pertaining to combat at all. Your task-force had elected you to become one of it’s soldiers because you were a holder of intelligence – you were the brain, and everyone else was the body.

Your skills lied in your ability to speak and understand a multitude of languages. Your looks and personality made you attractive to others both romantically or otherwise – people couldn’t help but make themselves known to you. You were good at making them feel so special that it hurt too much to not spill all their flavors into your cup.

Blackbird, they called you; a symbol of beauty and intelligence. You were your team’s little warbler – whatever they needed to know, you were sent to find out, and you always came back chirping your sweet song of intel.

König was quite taken by you from the very start – he’d never met a woman in his field that carried herself with such grace. Overtime, many women in special forces became much like their male colleagues; rough around the edges, heavily drinking and/or smoking, cursing like wounded sailors.

You? You were so clean. Not a single profanity fell from your glossed lips, your voice was smoother than the finest of silk velvets. Your eyes are still warm with the hope of a better world and twinkled with the gentle promise of eternal youth.

Granted, you were still rather fresh in age being in your early 20s. Still, you were special.

As you both got familiar with each other over the next few hours, König grew firmer in his belief that the radiance of your skin was actually your golden soul shining through your pores.

The safe house you’d both been given had been put together at the last minute. A fact that was clear by how it was a small cabin with only a couch in the living room and one bed in the bedroom, certainly not prepared for two. The kitchen was stocked with little snacks and such, but if either of you ever got the taste for a real meal, you’d have to eat out or go grocery shopping.

König was quick to offer you the only room, as you were a lady deserving of privacy.

Over the course of two weeks, you took turns cooking and choosing restaurants. But by week three, you’d become so focused on your task of manipulating a Captain in the Russian anti-group that you’d end up spending every free moment of your day at the desk, documenting the day’s occurrences and future strategies. König became responsible for making sure you both ate – it seemed that if he didn’t feed you, you’d simply forget to do it yourself and starve.

Week four was when the storm arrived, the great finale that signaled the nearing end of every mission – Blackbird had collected everything she needed and was ready to fly on home and feed her findings to her kin. Things were wrapping up and, naturally, that meant shit was going down.

The final day would end with König wounded – he fought well, your knight in shining armor. Of course he won, but he was losing blood from his abdomen and you knew he was in pain.

The jet that was assigned to pick you both up would not arrive until morning. Your due date was not until two days from now, but you’d finished early. Until then, you used what you had to stop the bleeding and make him comfortable.

You leave him on the bed that you’d been sleeping in for the last five weeks, flat on his back. If not for the pain of his stab wound, he might’ve enjoyed drowning in the lingering, feminine scent of shampoo and perfume stuck to the sheets and pillows you burrowed yourself in at night.

You bandage him with delicate fingers – such a stark difference compared to the medics back at the KorTac base. They were always so rough, like hornets pricking and prodding at his body.

He doesn’t notice how your focus was divided between his wound and his bare chest. Your impulsive thoughts, if you gave in to them, would’ve had you resting the palms of your hands flat on his muscles and grazing your fingertips over the ridges.

You tried to be respectful, the man was in pain – but you just couldn’t help your nature as it demanded to behold the glorious sculpture settled before you. Thousands of years ago, König might’ve been the model for ancient Greek statues. He was beautiful.

König sits up on the mattress when you finish, which now is stained with speckles of blood, clenching his jaw as he did. Your hands come up on his bare chest and you stop him.

“What are you doing?” You ask, bewildered, “You have to rest, König, you’re hurt.”

“This is your bed, schatz,” König grunted, “I will go to the couch.”

Now that the mission is over, you suddenly feel a wave of guilt come crashing down onto you. You’d been so busy thinking about what you needed to do, how you were going to get your hands on the information you’d been sent out to receive that you didn’t ever stop to think about König’s comfort. And here he was, spending every single day of the last five weeks watching your back, making sure you ate, and that you were comfortable. All he did was think about you.

As you stare at him, your heart begins pulsing erratically. Your face grows warm with the sudden realization that this big, brutal, soldier of a man was such a gentleman. He’d been so kind and considerate, looking over your shoulder for you like he was born to do it and not just because it was his job.

Your hands raise to cradle his masked face. You think about how this six-foot-ten beast had been sleeping on that tiny, poor excuse for a couch for nearly two months for the sake of your comfortability, and how he would do it even now when he was in pain.

Without a second thought, you go in and kiss him through the fabric of his mask – a little peck of admiration for his chivalry, a humble praise for being a rare man.

König stares at you when you pull back, he’s stunned. All these weeks of very subtly flirting with you … he thought you’d never notice, or even reciprocate his interest. König figured that you both would separate at the end of this story like Orpheus and Eurydice, he’d be damned to never know you again and you’d forget him as soon as he was gone.

With your hands still holding either side if his jaw, you tell him, “Lay down, König. Here.”

He brings up a large hand to meet one of yours, using the other to hold himself upright and stroking your wrist affectionately with his thumb, “You will not sleep on the couch, schatz.”

“No,” You agreed. “We will both stay here, on the bed, and that way if you need anything, I’m right here to help you.”

Still not believing what’s happening, he tries again to rise from the bed, only for you to guide him back down until his head rested on one of the pillows.

You ask, “That’s okay, isn’t it?”

König, beneath his mask, feels his lips curling upward as he laughs breathlessly.

He grins, “Okay?”

It was perfect.

[dostoyevsky-official]

When the eastern Ukrainian city of Lyman was occupied for five months last year, Valentyna Tkach and Tetiana Potapenko stayed behind. They volunteered to help their vulnerable neighbours. They cared for elderly residents, contacted the Russian occupation administration to ask for food and coal for them, and even buried dead bodies. Now, both women are in detention, having been accused by Ukraine’s Secret Service of collaboration with Russia – a crime punishable by up to 10 years in prison. [...] [During the occupation,] Potapenko went to the city executive committee building to get help for her neighbours. There, she found a help centre for the ‘Donetsk Republic of Denis Pushilin’ had been opened, headed by Viktoria Zinchuk. Before the occupation, Zinchuk had led the local House of Culture and often sang Ukrainian folk songs at concerts. She wore embroidered shirts in honour of national holidays. But in July, two months after the occupation, Pushilin presented Zinchuk with a certificate “for her contribution to the development of the Donetsk Republic” in occupied Mariupol. On behalf of this ‘civic movement’, Zinchuk started supervising the heads of Lyman microdistricts and their street attendants. She held meetings with them in her office. At one of these meetings, Zinchuk asked Potapenko to replace the head of her microdistrict, who had fled before the occupation. Potapenko accepted. [...] As heads of their microdistricts, Potapenko and Tkach’s main job was to obtain humanitarian aid from Lyman’s occupation administration, which the ‘Donetsk People’s Republic’ set up in June and was headed by Alexander Petrykin, the former vice-mayor of occupied Yenakiieve, another city in Donetsk. [...] Tkach asked the street attendants to compile lists of people in need, which she took to Zinchuk. “I drove one single car with humanitarian aid into the neighbourhood. There were 800 packages and of course, that wasn’t enough for everyone,” she sighed. “They would bring [aid] to the neighbourhood, and the street attendants would deliver it to those who couldn’t come on their own.” [...] On 9 January 2023, [Security Service of Ukraine] SBU officers told her she was under suspicion of collaboration, namely “occupying a leadership position in the occupation administration” – a crime punishable by up to 10 years in prison. She was accused of following the instructions of Pushilin and Zinchuk, as well as appointing and supervising street people. [...] Despite having been detained first, only Tkach remains in pre-trial detention, with her arrest repeatedly being extended. Her health has continued to deteriorate in prison. In July, she fainted in the courtroom, but the judge still sent her back to jail. Tkach was assigned a lawyer from Kramatorsk, who does not visit her and has not even challenged her arrest. She sees him only on the screen when he connects to meetings via video link. [...] The judge, Yevhen Voloshin, retired to the deliberation room – returning an hour later to find Potapenko guilty. He sentenced her to five years in prison and banned her from holding leadership positions for 15 years, but didn’t confiscate her property.

In occupation, they cared for the vulnerable. Now they’re in jail for it

[yelenasdiary]

Forbidden || Meet The Characters - Yelena Belova

No Warnings | 0.5K

Forbidden Masterlist

Ever heard of a woman being a bounty hunter? No? Well now you have! You can call me Yelena. I'm from Russia, I escaped a place called 'Red Room' in 1896. A terrible place, a place where women are kept against their will and forced to do unspeakable things. Now those women are free and Dreykov is dead, killing him with my own hands is a story that travels the country and more. I have an older sister, Natasha. She runs an orphan up in Drybellow, she does everything for all the young girls that call her ranch home. 

After killing Dreykov and finding Natasha again, I found I couldn't keep still. I needed to do something, to do more good for the bad I was made to do, which is how I became a bounty hunter. Don't get me wrong, a lot of people still laugh at the idea of a woman riding around on a horse with a rifle and loves being out in the open space under the stars. I get a rush from hunting outlaws and bringing them to justice. I've delivered more outlaws alive than I have delivered them dead, I get more money if they're alive. Anything from $40-600 alive, $20-300 dead. 

Most outlaws take a few days to a few weeks to track down and deliver to the sheriff's office and by the time one outlaw has been brought to justice there is almost always another poster pinned to the board then I'm off again tracking down another. Now, before you say that because I am a woman, that I am to become a housewife. Clean the homestead, prepare meals for my husband to return from work, attend to his needs and make small talk with the other housewives within the town….I am already carrying a secret that will get me hung and I cannot bring myself to play the role of a woman that is simply not me. 

I guess as much as I despise Red Room, I have a lot to thank Dreykov for. The skills I have to do what I do came from that. I know how to silently take out gang members without their leader knowing a single thing, I know how to track a gang for days without the help of asking passing travelers, I know how to use many weapons and melee weapons, I know which herbs to use if I fall sick, how to hunt animals without causing major damage to their meat. Everything I know comes from Red Room but everything I am? That's all on me. 

I have traveled to more places than I can count, I even broke my father, Alexei, out of a Russian prison with Natasha before we came to the States. If there is anything you truly need to know about me it's that, I will always do what I feel is best. I stand up for what I believe in, and God help you if you get in my way.

Taglist: @madislayyy | @riveramorylunar | @teganmiller | @kyleeservopoulos | @yelenaslyubov | @kacka84 | @lesbiarmy | @meurgen | @caporal-nino | @sl-ut | @scarletwidowblackwitch | @dogtamer415 | @mousetheorist | 

If you want to be on the taglist for this series, please see the masterlist. It's link at the top of this post.

[equallyshaw]

The friend group | little lion au - au masterlist. - also the nicknames for them are in good fun lol

☀︎☀︎☀︎☀︎☀︎☀︎☀︎☀︎☀︎☀︎☀︎☀︎☀︎☀︎☀︎☀︎☀︎☀︎☀︎☀︎☀︎☀︎☀︎☀︎☀︎☀︎☀︎☀︎☀︎☀︎

liona 'lion' kai ovekchin: russian mob boss - more on her here.

orange cat

studying fashion and minoring in marketing at nyu

1/3 of greenwhich village roommates

only child (+ younger half sister - sasha from moms ex fiance)

geno malkin worshiper

scorpio

part time nanny and part time barista/book shop clerk at an historic bookshop/coffee house

avid reader

huge star wars fan

used to have a crush on david..before her and chris got together..😚

tolerates hockey, big alex o fan if you didn't know

huge traveler

hamptons lovaaaaa

☀︎☀︎☀︎☀︎☀︎☀︎☀︎☀︎☀︎☀︎☀︎☀︎☀︎☀︎☀︎☀︎☀︎☀︎☀︎☀︎☀︎☀︎☀︎☀︎☀︎☀︎☀︎☀︎☀︎☀︎

rainn spencer: miss grump

liona's bff

second half

partner in crime always

1/3 of Greenwich village roommates

secretly has a thing for jack.

early supporter of #Hoveckhin

social work student at NYU, with a minor in Womens Studies

thinks of alex as a father figure because she does not have the best relationship with her own father, as her parents are divorced.

alum of Georgetown prep

works at a local coffee shop, and a record store on the weekend.

pisces

incredibly creative and extremely smart

middle child (syndrome) of three, with two brothers.

avid reader and painter

coffee connoisseur

☀︎☀︎☀︎☀︎☀︎☀︎☀︎☀︎☀︎☀︎☀︎☀︎☀︎☀︎☀︎☀︎☀︎☀︎☀︎☀︎☀︎☀︎☀︎☀︎☀︎☀︎☀︎☀︎☀︎☀︎

chris briney: trust fund kid

liona's ex and friend

columbia student, grad in 2025. (year early)

got accepted into harvard, attended one semester before transferring to new york.

oldest of 2, has a younger sister

aries

still is in love with liona..

is incredibly close to alex still

huge fan of the capitals

grew up next to liona, next door

studying political science and international relations

lives with gavin off-campus

enjoys playing the guitar, writing and reading

tea addict

used to be: grumpy bf x sunshine gf or black cat x orange cat

☀︎☀︎☀︎☀︎☀︎☀︎☀︎☀︎☀︎☀︎☀︎☀︎☀︎☀︎☀︎☀︎☀︎☀︎☀︎☀︎☀︎☀︎☀︎☀︎☀︎☀︎☀︎☀︎☀︎☀︎

gavin casalegno: top dog

golden retriever

closest to chris

columbia student

studying anthropology

bisexual

virgo

avid movie watcher/goer

youngest of four, with one brother and two sisters

night owl

down for a good time, always.

☀︎☀︎☀︎☀︎☀︎☀︎☀︎☀︎☀︎☀︎☀︎☀︎☀︎☀︎☀︎☀︎☀︎☀︎☀︎☀︎☀︎☀︎☀︎☀︎☀︎☀︎☀︎☀︎☀︎☀︎

sean kaufman: shakespeare

1/3 (part time) greenwich roommates

originally got into princeton but declared to go to nyu

studies playwriting with a minor in musical theater

cancer

oldest of 3, has 2 sisters

first generation student

first generation, parents are both from asia

has Korean citizenship through parents

musical goer (will bring lion every. single. time.)

huge traveler (along with gavin)

has had a crush on rain for years (but once he saw the ending to liona and chris he decided to not pursue anything)

second half of liona, male version of her (we'll see that soon!)

will drag her out of bed at obscene hours to dance, bake and ofcourse, get some pizza

coffee addict (connoisseur)

☀︎☀︎☀︎☀︎☀︎☀︎☀︎☀︎☀︎☀︎☀︎☀︎☀︎☀︎☀︎☀︎☀︎☀︎☀︎☀︎☀︎☀︎☀︎☀︎☀︎☀︎☀︎☀︎☀︎☀︎

david iacono: pink whitney

went to georgetown prep with the group

year older than the group

reunited in london, summer 2025 before he moves back to the states

studied liberal arts at university of cambridge

only child

liona and him were close because they did musicals and plays together at school + in the community

moves to nyc to pursue his masters at columbia

golden retriever energy

had a crush on liona during highschool but then once her and chris got together, he pushed it away

avid fan of the capitals

literally starstruck of alex but not geno (lmao)

really likes luke when he meets him when they get back from europe in the Hamptons

the two of them get along really well

along with sean, the two of them get liona out and about always

loves to do photography

☀︎☀︎☀︎☀︎☀︎☀︎☀︎☀︎☀︎☀︎☀︎☀︎☀︎☀︎☀︎☀︎☀︎☀︎☀︎☀︎☀︎☀︎☀︎☀︎☀︎☀︎☀︎☀︎☀︎☀︎

+ ensemble members.

jack hughes: frat president

follows luke around like a lost puppy when he joins luke and liona for stuff with the group

shy af (ironic lol)

really likes rainn

him and gavin get on really well

gavin brings jack out of his shell, and the two are thick as thieves

down for a good time, always.

middle child syndrome ofc

dylan duke: the slut (not literally lmao)

summer buddies with the group when everybody visits michigan

ring leader for the michigan trips (that now include the friend group)

him + david = pink whitney lovers

karaoke fanatic

# 2 fan of Hoveckchin (behind rainn & just because he likes the ship name, has to enunciate HO)

quinn hughes: the dictator

keeps everybody in line during the summers (doesn't need unnecessary injuries or drama)

they call him the dictator because of it

enjoys the friend group, thinks they are all sound people and glad luke has a good group when he's in jersey and people away from the league

treats lion like his little sister

+

ethan edwards

nico hischier

Alex holtz

Rutger mcgroarty

adam fantilli

simon nemec

andrei svechnikov (her russian brat)

+ more ofc

☀︎☀︎☀︎☀︎☀︎☀︎☀︎☀︎☀︎☀︎☀︎☀︎☀︎☀︎☀︎☀︎☀︎☀︎☀︎☀︎☀︎☀︎☀︎☀︎☀︎☀︎☀︎☀︎☀︎☀︎

hope you all enjoyed!!!

[domesticblisss]

bite the hand that feeds

dmitri antonov x female reader rating: mature. minors dni word count: 1139 summary: dmitri goes to the united states with hopper and the gang and he meets joyce's younger sister. warnings: smut. spit kink, slight dom/sub dynamics, squirting, having naughty thoughts about other people. i think that's all? it's pure filth. inspired by nine inch nails "the hand that feeds" a/n: this is the first time i've written anything outside of wrestling related fanfics, so i hope this is the slightest bit good, stranger things is one my favourite shows and i'm obsessed with the st men, and i’ll probably write for more of them (might have some eddie thing brewing). anyways, hope you enjoy it. part 02

Leaving your country and getting used to a new culture is never easy. Add being a defector, a former russian prison guard to that.

But Dmitri couldn’t complain, the american got him a roof over his head, a warm, comfortable bed to sleep on and good company. 

The good company took shape as Joyce’s younger sister. 

“What is go– Jim?!” she exclaimed like she had seen a ghost. Well, kind of, right?

“I’m back?” Jim said sheepishly. 

“I’m back?” Jim said sheepishly. 

“Seriously, what is going on?”

“Honey,” Joyce interrupted, “let us in and we’ll explain everything.”

And they did. From the Starcourt Mall incident opening a portal to Russia, to Hopper getting imprisoned, to Joyce and Murray traveling all the way to said country – which got Joyce an earful for doing what she did without telling her sister – and to how they got out of the prison and back to the States. 

“Okay, hold on.” The young woman pleaded, the amount of information almost unbearable to digest. “Okay, so you're telling me all those creatures, the ones that got Will, the things we saw at the underground base– I saw– we saw Hop die! But in reality, he just magically showed up in a russian prison, and Enzo, Dmitri…” she stopped for a second, taking the time to look at the russian man’s face, the amused smile on his lips making her lose her already scrambled train of thought, “what should I call you?”

“I don’t care, both are fine.” 

“Well that was very helpful.” she scoffed. “Anyways, so Dmitri” she raised an eyebrow towards the blue eyed man, earning her a shy smile and a timid nod in confirmation “a russian prison guard, sent you a doll full of clues, you and Murray went to Russia, got ambushed, found Jim, fought with other prison guards, fought the tulip from hell, and made it back home?”

“Yeah!” Joyce said with her sweet, joyful voice. 

“Okay,” the younger Byers nodded, “so what you need me for?”

“We need a place for Enzo to stay.” Murray said. 

“For a little while, just so we can solve everything.” Jim added. 

“Of course. Welcome, Enzo slash Dmitri.” she smiled. 

But harder than adjusting to life in a new country, it was adjusting to living life with her. 

She was nice from the get go, going out of her way to make him feel comfortable, to make him feel at home. 

Her guest room turned into Dmitri’s room, the decoration becoming as cozy as it could get. She learned how to make his favourite dishes, making a separate grocery shopping list with whatever he wanted, and she even started taking russian classes. The small act of kindness made Dmitri emotional. 

He could hear her repeating the foreign words through the shared walls of their bedrooms every night. 

Dmitri often told her that she didn’t have to do everything that she was doing for him, and her answer always was “I’d do it for anyone who helped the people I love the most.”

Bit by bit he got used to it, but he never got used to her and the effect she had on him.

She’s beautiful, one of the most beautiful women he has ever seen. And it didn’t take long for her to plague his every single thought. 

It started innocent, like when he saw some flowers down the driveway that he thought she would like, or when a new episode of her favourite show was on and she wasn’t home.

But his daydreams quickly escalated.

How wouldn’t they when her scent felt intoxicating, the house impregnated with the almost sickly sweet smell of her shampoo whenever she showers, or the cute noises she makes whether she likes or hates something, let alone waking up and walking in on her making breakfast in only a oversized t-shirt, one that he often dreamt about being his, dreamt about her stealing from him after sex. 

Dmitri would be lying if he said that he didn’t lie awake at night thinking about her. 

The russian man had lost count of how many times he had touched himself thinking about her, thinking about how sweet but tangy her pussy would taste, about how he would make her come at least two times before actually fucking her. 

He always edged himself with the thought of her opening her plush pink lips to take his spit as the most precious nectar, how she would say ”thank you, sir” in gratitude, or how her warm tongue would make home for this fingers, muffling her moans as she came undone beneath him. 

But what truly gets him, what makes him cum hard is the thought of his thick cock buried inside her tight cunt. 

In his daydreams he always starts slow – even after having her prepared – to get her used to his size, filling her to the brim. It starts with that uncomfortable pain, slowly graduating to an almost dying pleasure as he hits the spongy spot inside her repeatedly. 

Right now, a new material for his thoughts is unlocked. 

As he stands on the doorway, she runs around the kitching in a sundress – he had never seen her in a dress – the blues, yellows and oranges of the dress contrasting perfectly with her soft skin. 

In his head, he has her bent over the kitchen table, the dress messily scrunched up around her waist, with her panties shoved down to her knees. His face is impossibly close to her core, his tongue stimulating her clit while his fingers work on her hole. The assault he has on her makes her squirt and he laps around to get her clean. He doesn’t waste any time, opens his belt and gets rid of his pants as fast as he can, and enters her in one swift move. 

His usually slow moves are now fast, as if the world is going to end if he takes his sweet time. Dmitri’s left middle finger finds her clit, rubbing soft circles around her nub, an almost ironic move compared with how hard he’s thrusting. He knows she’s close, her knees are giving up and her walls are starting to close around him. 

“Just a little bit longer, just wait a little–“

“Earth to Enzo!” she says as she snaps her fingers in front of his face. 

“Sorry, what were you saying?” Dmitri answers, shame consuming him. 

“Joyce, Jim, Murray and the kids are arriving in a few, could you help me set up the table?”

“Of course, дорогой”

God, this is going to be the longest afternoon of his life.

→

Trnaslations: дорогой: dorogaya -> Sweetheart

Feedback is welcomed and appreciated 🤎

[imaginedreamwrite]

First picture from 3rd set: Lloyd on his way to cause chaos because some creep won't leave Pumpkin alone. The alcohol is for the future headache because Pumpkin will probably scold him for causing a scene.

“I don’t give a damn what Giana or Gina…whatever the fuck Gambuchan-”

“That’s not her name.” His eyes find you in the crowd while you speak with one of the other guests at the party, the second and third drinks of the night are already downed.

He can’t distinguish whether his sudden his piss poor mood is due to the amount of guests trying to keep him from finding you, or if its the descent of the family he’d once almost married to his manor.

Regardless, Lloyd Hansen is in a mood. He’s irritated and he wants to drag everyone out by their hair, throwing them into the wet cobblestone in order to corner you.

In order to fuck both your attitudes out of you. He wants to drag you upstairs and slam your wrists in a pair of cuffs, securely keeping you in bed in order to make you bend to his whims.

His deal with certain Russian families were complicated by his previous interactions with Giana. She had come to the house with them, her and her solicitous attitude had set you on a path to leave him, and nothing was set right.

Tonight you showed up to the party wearing a champagne dress that hit every single perfect inch of your body in a captivating way. The beading transformed you to a mesmerizing siren that beckoned men to their knees, including him.

Nothing about what you were wearing was obtusely risqué, a clarifying difference between other women who attended. Even Giana, who was celebrating a victory by so far in your head that she sent you out of Lloyd’s protective clutch, was wearing scraps for a dress.

But not you. Never you.

And that royally pissed Lloyd Hansen off.

His soulmate appearing at the party wearing a dress worthy of a sea-siren herself, and you’d barely given him the time of day.

“You lost the crypt keeper,” one of Mikhailov’s men found you immediately in the crowd, stealing upon you with the intent to bend you over a balcony, “now you’re mine.”

Lloyd watched you with a cautious eye, the hand clutching his drunk tightening until the material threatened to crack. His teeth ground and his lips were curled into a sneer, his possessive nature creating a monster within his soul.

“You like magic, Bratva?” You turned to face him, first unabashedly bored with his claim and then your emotions shifted. “I know a trick to make your hand disappear.”

Lloyd was already heading down the steps to find you, he was within 20ft of you when he bared witness to your move. You had grabbed the Bravta’s hand and twisted it painfully like Lloyd taught you, breaking as many bones as you could while shoving his arm behind his back.

You cornered him while onlookers spared you glances but said nothing. Lloyd had approached you within seconds, yanking the Bratva from your grasp to inflict his own bone shattering aggression. It was instantaneous, Lloyd defending you despite not needing it, and you taking the drink from him.

“I had it handled, Lloyd.” You quipped, down the alcohol in a single bound as your soulmate dumped the waste of space on the floor. “Don’t you have another Russian to entertain and fuck?”

Lloyd knocked the glass from your hand in order to yank you in by your waist, and then he slammed his lips against yours. His kiss was possessive, his tongue battling yours despite the noise in the background and the toying claps coming from the leader of the Russian family he was meeting.

“You bring your ass back home, Pumpkin.”

“Or else…? What? What will you do?”

Lloyd set both hands upon your ass and squeezed, his eyes darkened with lust and hunger. “I’ll take every rope I have in this damned place and suspend you from my bedroom ceiling. Fuck, might happen anyway.”

“Don’t blow a load already, dick.” You slipped from his grip and stepped away, smoothing down your dress. “You have business to attend to, I’m done with the party.”

[malk1ns]

for your pleasure: it’s culturally said that Russian men never show up when meeting a women (whether business or pleasure) without a bouquet. Food for thought around your 1950s Geno fic lol

👀👀👀

Sid expects the flowers to stop after a while.

Geno brings a bouquet to every date, to the point where Sid runs out of vases and has to ask some of the WAGs where he can gets more that fit with his house's decor scheme. He buys flower food and a watering can and does his best to keep them alive for as long as possible, and then Geno starts bringing over live plants in pots and Sid falls headfirst into online research on how to care for all these living things suddenly in his home.

He maybe goes a little crazy on Amazon getting supplies. It's worth it when Geno sees how carefully arranged all his gifts are, how well-tended the blooms and leaves look.

That's normal early-relationship stuff, though, so Sid figures after a while it'll die down, and he'll maybe get a new plant for his birthday or something, to supplement the collection in the west-facing room he hadn't found a use for yet that's rapidly becoming a greenhouse.

It's when individual stems start appearing in his locker before every practice that Sid begins to suspect this might be more of a permanent thing.

The guys razz him, of course they do, but Geno just looks smug whenever Sid comes in and smiles over the new flower. Sid's not sure how much money he's spending on them, or where they're coming from, but he carefully gathers them and brings them home, and the biggest vase he owns, the one that sits on his kitchen island where he can see it as often as possible, becomes dedicated to the workplace gifts Geno seems determined to leave him every day.

"It's a Russian thing," Tanger says one day, examining the orchid bloom Sidney found before practice. "The men, they bring flowers for women when they meet them, even if they're just friends, even if it's work. I think it's safe to say you're getting what you wanted?"

Sid flushes hot. "How do you even know that?" he asks instead of acknowledging Tanger's question.

Kris smiles at him, all teeth and knowing eyes. "I called Sarge and asked what it might mean, if our little Geno was giving someone flowers every single day."

"Fuck, the whole goddamn league is gonna have a field day with this, you're such an asshole," Sid groans, kicking Kris in the shin hard enough to make him yelp and hop away. "And give me that, you're going to crush the stem."

Geno's waiting for him outside the locker room, slouched against the opposite wall and playing on his phone, chewing on his lower lip as he rapidly scrolls through whatever he's looking at. When he sees it's Sid coming through the door, orchid safely in hand, he straightens and slips his phone into his pocket.

"I think maybe you're lost," he says, smiling down at Sid and wrapping an arm around his shoulders. "Ready for go home?"

Sid settles into the warmth of Geno's touch, letting him steer them through the halls and out to the parking lot. Geno opens the passenger door to the car and waits until Sid's buckled safely in before shutting it and circling around to the driver's side.

"Do you think you'll keep getting me flowers forever?" Sid asks abruptly when they're halfway home.

Geno lowers the volume on the music and glances quickly at him, brow furrowed. "You're not like?"

Sid looks down at the orchid in his lap, touching the plastic water pick at the base of its stem. "No, I love it," he says, shifting in his seat. "It's just. I guess Tanger talked to Gonch."

"Ah," Geno says, fingers tightening a little on the wheel as he changes lanes to get off the highway. "It's okay?"

Sid knows what he's asking, knows what they're dancing around. It's something neither of them have been willing to actually put into words yet, even though Geno's behavior makes it crystal clear to anyone who's paying attention.

"It's more than okay," he finally answers, rolling his neck to try and ease a tight spot he hadn't been able to get fully massaged out at the trainers' after practice. "It's...you know. You know I like it."

Geno's shoulders come down from where they'd been climbing up to his ears. "Good," he says firmly. "Then we keep do. You like flower, you should get flower every day. I'm do this for you, I like it too."

"Good," Sid echoes. "What do you want for dinner? I think we have some of that chicken parm left, or I can make us pasta."

Geno looks over at him again, but this time his eyes are hot, and Sid squirms. "Think about dinner later," he says, hand landing high on Sid's thigh. "Have other thing to do when we get home."

[unhonestlymirror]

I genuinely wonder how Himaruya managed to write Lithuania as both a pathetic trembling scared of russia creature and "a murder sword machine on the battlefield." Both are wrong; and since I already explained why the first image is wrong, then, I think, it's time to talk about the second.

Indigenous Lithuanian land or Lietuva, is actually not so big. In preGDL and GDL times, it was shifted more to the East (now those territories are mostly Belaruthian and a bit russian), so the sea coast was Baltic Prussian, Skalovian, Curonian, etc. Those people spoke very similar to modern Lithuanian languages (well, from my point of view as a non-native speaker) because they were all Baltics, but there weren't Lithuanian.

So, since there were not many Lithuanians, and no sea, therefore, no so big cultural and economic exchange with neighbours as in, e.g., Curonia - there was a delayed access to new technologies, including military. And of course, not a single nation is gonna give you their technologies for free. No new modern technologies or people - no superiority in pure military power. No superiority in pure military power - no victory in protecting your land or in colonisation... if you use the "murder machine" tactics. You're just gonna lose your people, and you can't afford that. Therefore, you have to develop in another direction.

I want to give an example from the history of my country. Hundreds of years ago, 513 BC, the Persian king Darius I, with a large army and fleet, began a campaign to conquer Scythia. Darius I Hystaspes sought to extend the Persian Empire to the entire cultural world of that time and, in particular, to subjugate the Black Sea colonies of the Greeks and thereby seize control over the Black Sea trade, especially over the arrival of the Scythian bread that Greece needed.

Darius had thousands of thousands of people; Herodotus reports the following about the size of the Persian army: "The army, without the navy, numbered 700,000 together with the cavalry, and six hundred ships were assembled". The Persians were blinded by their success - they had not known military failures.

Having learned about the thousands of Darius's army, which ended up in their territory, the Scythians held a military meeting - all the tribes were gathered, including their allied Sauromatians, Taury, Ahathirsy, Gelonians and Budyny. Some tribes, such as the Androphages, refused the Scythians' offer, feeling relatively safe. They blamed the Scythians for the campaign against Media and did not want to risk their own peace and well-being. Some historians believe that it is possible that Darius I tried to prevent the unification of the forces of the Scythians and their neighbors and previously sent a message to the kings of all the tribes neighboring Scythia that he was going to war only against the Scythians and was not going to conquer anyone else.

Therefore, the Scythians decided not to engage in close combat with Darius, but to lure him as far as possible from the crossing into the boundless Scythian steppes by making periodic counter-attacks. They sent the women and children and all the livestock far ahead. The Scythians left with them only as much cattle as they needed to feed the detachment. The Scythians also filled up all the wells and springs, set fire to the steppe, and destroyed vegetation in order to deprive the enemy of any benefits and make it difficult for him to move. In history, this military tactic was called "Scorched Earth Tactics". And it fully justified itself. With such a large numerical superiority of the Persians, the Scythians could not afford to go into an open battle. And they completely exhausted the enemy - both psychologically and physically.

The Scythian troops carried out a "psychic attack" - constantly appearing and teasing the enemy, avoiding direct contact, staying at a distance of a day's march, luring the Persians to them, while leaving their livestock - not letting them die of starvation. Darius tried with all his might in his nerves to pursue them, leading the army as fast as possible, but the Scythians were out of reach. According to some researchers, the Scythians used stone mounds (tombs) with grottoes and caves as a shelter, which disoriented the enemy.

Constant active movements, lack of combat as such, depletion of provisions and supplies brought the Persians closer to defeat. Finally, the army of Darius, pursuing the Scythian horsemen, entered the territory of the same Androphages and other tribes who had previously refused to fight on the side of the Scythians. Seeing the advancing Scythians in their lands, some of them continued the tactics started by the Scythians, while others resorted to more radical actions, such as the Androphages, who were "famous" for cannibalism.

According to Herodotus, Darius finally decided to retreat after one significant incident. He sent a messenger to the Scythian general Idanfirs, conveying the following:

"Strange person, why do you run away like a hare, although you have the opportunity to do one of two things? After all, if you think that you yourself are capable of resisting my power, you should stop wandering, fight, and when you realize that you are weaker, then even then, cease to flee and carry land and water as a gift to your lord, come for negotiations".

In response, a messenger arrived to Darius with an unusual message:

My affairs, o Perses, are thus: I have never run in fear from any man before, and now I do not run from you, and I do nothing new now compared to what I used to do in peacetime.

I will also explain why I do not engage in battle with you immediately. We have no cities, no cultivated land, and no fear that they will be captured and ruined. Nothing compels us to enter into battle with you sooner.

I did not come to your land, but you to mine. When I want, then I will compete with you by force. Now, if you found and spat on the sacred graves of our ancestors, then you would see whether we are scary rabbits or not.

The stubborn Persian king did not stop there and answered:

Foolish Scythian! Who taught you to fight so stupidly? I already told you: if you feel courage in your heart, stop and let's measure strength. No one in the world has ever beaten me! If you do not have the strength and courage in your heart, send me, your Lord, the usual gifts in this case: water in a silver jar and land on a golden cape. And I will admit you to me and, as a sign of supreme favour to you, I will allow you to kiss the toe of my black royal boot. I was and will be your Master, and you were and will remain my faithful slave!

Such arrogance and limitation somewhat angered the Scythian king Idanfris, and he ordered to immediately send Darius "gifts" - a bird, a mouse, a frog, and five arrows:

Enough has been said about the battle.

I consider only Zeus, my ancestor, and Hestia, queen of the Scythians, to be my lords.

And instead of gifts of land and water, I will send you such gifts as you deserve to receive. For the fact that you declared yourself my lord, you will have to sob.

This is the answer of the Scythians.

The Persians asked the messenger about the meaning of these mysterious gifts. He said that he was only ordered to give "presents" and added that if the Persians are so wise, let them figure out for themselves what they mean. This once again puzzled the Persians, and they did not immediately understand what it all really meant. Herodotus conveys the expressed assumptions: "Darius thought that the Scythians would give him themselves, and land, and water. He assumed this on the grounds that the mouse lives in the earth, feeding on the same cereals as man, the frog in the water, the bird most closely resembles a horse; the arrows mean that the Scythians are surrendering their military power."

In fact, these "gifts" of the Scythians meant something else, and the Persian commander Gobrius was the first to correctly interpret them:

If you, Persians, do not fly into the sky like birds, burrow deep into the earth like mice, or jump into the swamp like frogs, you will be killed by these arrows and will not return home.

And the Scythians, having brought "gifts", in the meantime did not waste time and went to active actions. We learn from Herodotus: "Meanwhile, one part of the Scythians, who had first been ordered to guard near Lake Meotida, and now went to the Istra for negotiations with the Ionians (Greeks), having arrived at the bridge, announced the following: "Men of the Ionians, we bring you freedom, if only you are willing to obey. We know that Darius ordered you to guard the bridge for only sixty days, and if he does not appear within that time, to retire to your homeland. Now you will not be guilty either to him or to us, if you do this: stay the appointed number of days, and then immediately depart, rejoicing that you are free, and feeling grateful to the gods and the Scythians. And the one who was once your master, we will bring to such a state that he will no longer go to war against anyone." When the Ionians seemed to agree to do so, the Scythians immediately hurried back."

In conclusion, with the onset of night of many nights, taking a select part of the army, and leaving the others - exhausted, sick, wounded and less needed to die, Darius marched back to the Istra (Danube) by forced march. In fact, treacherously betraying his own army, which for him was nothing more than consumables and a way of aggrandizement, he still managed to mislead the Scythians and retreat to a considerable distance.

Unfortunately, the Greeks did not keep their word. The Athenian Miltiades, the general and tyrant of the Chersonese, those on the Hellespont, offered to obey the Scythians and try to liberate Ionia. The proposal of the Miletus Histiaeus was the opposite of this. He said that now, thanks to Darius, each of them is the tyrant of the city, and if the power of Darius is overthrown, he himself will not be able to rule the Milesians, and no one else will be able to rule anyone. When Histiaeus made this point, everyone immediately agreed with his opinion, even though they had previously agreed with Miltiades.

Thus, Darius was lucky: the Greeks did not destroy the bridge and, waiting for the return of their master, helped him and his army to cross the Istra and reach Chersonese of Thrace, and from there - Asia Minor. The Scythians believed the Ionians (Greeks), so the Persians simply slipped away. After this incident, the Scythians began to judge the Ionians as vile cowards and born slaves who love their master and are not in the least inclined to resist. (c)

***

The same tactic was used by Lithuanians, although they didn't have the steppe but impenetrable forests: and in such natural conditions, it is much more profitable to use bows or crossbows. Lithuanians climb trees a lot, and many Lithuanians, as well as Belaruthians, are very good snipers. Swordsmen were mostly mercenary warriors, and they created a reputation, but it doesn't mean that the whole nation was like this. Where do you think the tales about Laumė and "forest gods which will punish you" come from? If you want to learn more about someone's war tactics, go into their mythology. Lithuanians resisted Teutons using the "Scythian" tactic for a loooooong time, until Prussia and modern Latvia were completely captured and it was the time to change. In order not to become completely engrossed, they had to seek support from the South, and that's how Grand Dutchy of Lithuania was born. I am 100% sure that the Lithuanians were not happy about having to bravely risk their lives in an open field.

Some bonus facts:

A LOT of Lithuanians are fans of Tolkien and elves.

Gintaras Beresnevičius says that Lithuanian religion and culture exchanged influences with Scythians as well

All of Lithuania's neighbours describe them as very cunning. They're not like naive Belaruthians, they're not grandiose like Polish, they're not hot-heads like Ukrainians, and if course they are not stupid in their insolence and megalomania like russians. Latvians have a word for Lithuanians, which is "viltīgi" and means "cunning"... in a bit negative way. XD

[alexseanchai]

ha I found it

the schedule for 2016 Russian Nationals in Chelyabinsk (Yekaterinburg Time, UTC+5), Google Translate assures me goes as follows (and no it says nothing about practice timeslots):

Dec 20-21: athletes arrive Wed Dec 21: 17:30-19:00 Judges meeting 20:00-21:00 Draw of participants Thu Dec 22: 14:00-16:30 Single skating, men's short program 16:45-18:45 Pair skating, short program 19:30-20:15 Competition opening ceremony 20:30-22:15 Ice dance, short dance Fri Dec 23: 14:00-16:30 Single skating, women's short program 16:45-19:45 Single skating, men's free program 20:00-21:45 Ice dance, free dance Sat Dec 24: 15:00-17:15 Pair skating, free program 17:30-20:30 Single skating, women's free program Sun Dec 25: 13:00-13:45 Medal ceremony 14:00-16:30 Demonstration performances

and the schedule for 2016 Japanese Nationals in Osaka (Japan Standard Time, UTC+9), Google Translate assures me goes as follows (and no it says nothing about the exhibition, but Getty Images photos from the exhibition have alt text saying it was Mon Dec 26):

Thu Dec 22: 15:40-15:55 Ice dance, order lottery 15:55-16:30 Ice dance, practice 16:30-16:45 Pair skating, order lottery 16:45-17:20 Junior pair skating, practice 17:20-17:55 Pair skating, practice 18:30-19:30 Opening ceremony (including order lottery for men's and ladies' singles) 20:00-20:35 Ice dance, short dance 20:50-21:05 Junior pair skating, short program 21:05-21:35 Pair skating, short program Fri Dec 23: 06:20-09:45 Ladies' singles skating, practice (5 groups) 10:00-10:30 Ice dance, practice 10:30-11:00 Junior pair skating, practice 11:00-11:30 Pair skating, practice 11:45-14:45 Men's singles skating, practice (5 groups) 15:05-15:50 Ice dance, free dance 16:05-16:25 Junior pair skating, free skate 16:25-17:05 Pair skating, free skate 17:25-20:15 Men's singles skating, short program Award ceremony: ice dance, junior pairs, pairs Sat Dec 24: 06:50-09:35 Ladies' singles skating, practice (5 groups) 09:50-12:45 Men's singles skating, practice (4 groups) 13:45-17:35 Ladies' singles skating, short program 17:55-21:45 Men's singles skating, free skate Award ceremony: men's singles Sun Dec 25: 12:30-15:05 Ladies' singles skating, practice (4 groups) 16:05-19:40 Ladies' singles skating, free skate Award ceremony: ladies' singles 21:10 Representative announcement

so the time difference being four hours means the men's singles short and free in Japanese Nationals are scheduled against the ladies' singles short and pair skating free in Russian Nationals, though with enough offset that if Yuuri is one of the last couple people in the free skate, he'd instead be scheduled against the Russian ladies' free skate along with the Japanese men's medal ceremony

it also means the men's singles free in Russian Nationals is scheduled against nothing except Yuuri's bed (and possibly social hour with other Japanese skaters), while depending on the draw order, Victor's and/or Yurio's short programs might be scheduled against nothing, the Japanese ice dance short, or the opening ceremony; the Russian medal ceremony is definitely during the Japanese ladies' free

in absence of listed practice times on the Russian end, there's no way to tell what was happening at the same time as what, so it's possible Victor's and Yuuri's scheduled practice times would overlap? not likely on the 23rd, even less likely on the 24th, but definitely possible

and in absence of a listed time for the Japanese exhibition, there's no way to tell whether Victor could finish his own exhibition, rush to the airport, and make it in time to join Yuuri's exhibition

[thezeinterviews]

Expressen: Olena Zelenska: "He is my best friend"

Published 20 Aug 2023 at 23:56, updated 21 Aug at 06:14

Arne Lapidus

Olena Zelenska, wife of the President of Ukraine, talks in an emotional interview about how the family lives during the war - and how close she is to her husband Volodymyr.

- "He's my best friend, he has a fire inside him, and I believe in him 200 per cent," she says on TV4's 'Malou möter'.

Olena Zelenska and her husband, President Volodymyr Zelenskyj, work around the clock to defend and strengthen Ukraine in the war against the aggressor Russia.

During their short visit to Sweden, they experienced the Swedish summer idyll that stands in stark contrast to the suffering in their troubled homeland.

"Can't relax"

- When I sit here on the lawn, it feels peaceful, but unfortunately, it is only for a moment. Even if I get to experience nice moments, I don't allow myself to relax and feel happiness as long as there is a war in our country," Olena Zelenska tells interviewer Malou von Sivers on TV4's "Malou möter" on Sunday evening.

She talks about her commitment to children and women in Ukraine. About a four-year-old who has been raped, about women in a whole village who have been raped by Russian soldiers.

- More than 20,000 Ukrainian children have been kidnapped by Russia. The most terrible thing is that we do not know where they have been taken. We have no answers, we are fighting for the return of every single child," said Ms Zelenska.

- "I hope that we can continue to develop a platform at the international level to create the conditions to bring our children home," she says.

"We are together"

She explains that her own children, a daughter aged 19 and a son aged 10, are going through the same difficulties as their peers. And she is happy that the family lives together, that they have not moved abroad despite the fact that she and her husband were targeted by the Russian attack.

- "Our daughter has finished her first year at university, our son is looking forward to meeting his friends when school starts. I am happy that we live as a family, even if they don't see their father all the time, we are together," says Olena Zelenska in "Malou möter".

She praises her husband for his efforts both as a family man and as a leader of the country.

Honouring her husband

- My husband is my best friend. He is stubborn and confident, and that gives me great hope in these times. He has a fire inside him to keep going even if he is physically tired," she says:

- "I believe in him 200 per cent. Not only because I am his wife but because we have been working together for so many years. He is the one who takes responsibility and acts when no one else dares. We can count ourselves lucky to have such a person as President.

Thanking Sweden

Ms Zelenska also expressed her gratitude for Sweden's political and military support for Ukraine.

- "We feel the support of the Swedish people since the first day of this terrible war of invasion. We hope your support will continue, we need it very much," she said on 'Malou möter on TV4'.

Article

[iriel3000]

2017 Friday Recs - Week 4

Happy Friday! Some reading recommendations for your enjoyment. No particular order and more to come.

Occasionally, I like to include a fic where another couple, usually Stucky, are the main characters but the Clintasha subplot is so good, it must be shared! Please don't forget to leave some kudos or comments.

In the Jungle by marieadriana

Clint and Natasha crash land in the jungle, and must find a way to get both themselves and their intel out.

And In This Little Cellar, We Grow Like Weeds by bipolarbard

Imagine the reverse of Clint Barton’s and Natasha Romanoff’s backstories. Imagine that they send Natasha to take down Clint. Imagine that she traps him, but before she makes her move, she sees something behind those all-seeing eyes. Imagine that she makes a different call."

The story of an acrobat and an assassin, an arachnid and an archer

More Than A Second Chance by Bearly_Beloved

Before there is love, there is a first glance. There is a first meeting. There is a second chance.

The Consequences of Being Compromised by shapedthecentury

Even easy missions sometimes don't go /exactly/ as planned.

The devil's dance floor by AwwwCoffee_No

Clint Barton is a crewman on a navy ship, and Natasha Romanova is a luckless stowaway. When she's captured and Clint finds a map that he can't read, he agrees to help her escape. Little does he know that they're fleeing into a life of piracy, adventure and hidden treasure.

Trying Something New by ChettaDrabbles (KOranges)

There was going to be little use in keeping their knew Russian defector in SHIELD's protection if she didn't learn how to be a part of the team. And Clint was running out of new ways of trying to teach her that. Not that he was opposed to getting hit on by beautiful women, it was a step up from that time she tried to kill him, but it didn't exactly help their team dynamic.

monsters (stuck in your head) by angel_at_the_door/@distinguishedninjapolice

There are very few things in this world that Natasha does not understand

Arrow by pickwicklingpapers

Natasha's arrow necklace holds a lot of secrets. The Avengers don't know them all. Three times someone assumed that Natasha Romanov was single, and one time that they learned differently.

If you are one of the authors or know them on tumblr and they are not properly tagged, please let me know in comments and I'll add them. Please feel free to click the Iriel3000fridayrecs link below to browse more categories.

[impulsive-thottie]

All Bark, No Bite - BSD x DRRR Crossover

Izaya Orihara and Osamu Dazai share a few things in common, including their dislike for dogs.

word count: 1,763

ao3

When the sun sets and the moon rises, Ikebukuro transforms into a different city. Neon lights and street lamps replace the sunlight that illuminates the flocks of people crowding the streets. Police sirens wail in the distance while human conversations overlap in passing. Businessmen rush home after a busy day of work, university students step into restaurants to socialize over drinks, color gang members loiter outside convenience stores to plan their move for the evening—no matter the type of person, everyone has their own stories and secrets.

Even the darkest of secrets can be exposed under the night sky, Izaya has already figured that out. Not everyone is capable of fully hiding in the depths of Ikebukuro’s nightlife. 

“My, it is so lively tonight,” the man walking beside him, Osamu Dazai, comments. “I’m sure you never get bored living here.”

“Of course I don’t.”

He’s right. Izaya is never bored in Ikebukuro.

Dazai strides with his hands in the pockets of his beige trench coat, a beaming smile rests on his face. His eyes linger on a few women strolling past them. Izaya also walks with his hands in his pockets, carrying a slight smirk on his face while looking straight ahead.. From an outside perspective, they seem like two friends on their way to have a casual night out.

Of course, that is not the case.

First off, Izaya would not consider Dazai as a friend. Sure, Izaya sees some qualities of himself in him but he doesn’t see him as a foe either. Perhaps something in between. A rival? No, Shizu-chan already holds that honor. Oh well, maybe it doesn’t matter.

I love all humans equally.

Secondly, the reason Izaya is out with Dazai is because he is helping him gather information for a case. Or rather, Dazai needs Izaya’s help to solve a case, that’s what he prefers to think. His current goal is to track down a Russian terrorist by the name of Fyodor Dostoesvky. It’s not often Dazai turns to Izaya to request information to aid his work. Which leads Izaya to arranging a meeting at Russian Sushi, operated by Denis and Simon. Since they are former Soviet Union soldiers, Izaya figures they would have some insight on the Russian underground that would provide some leads.

“So, it’s called Russian Sushi?” Dazai ponders. “What exactly makes the sushi Russian?”

“Heh, you’ll find out.”

“Do they at least serve crab?”

“They serve many things.”

Izaya spots the restaurant up ahead, the fluorescent lights pouring out the windows. Before he could take another step forward, he stops in his tracks.

Up ahead, only a few feet away, a loose corgi gallops in circles.

Keep walking, keep walking, pretend it’s not there and hopefully it will ignore you.

His breath comes to a brief halt when his crimson eyes come into contact with its round, brown eyes. Its tongue dangles out of its mouth as its white tall swings back and forth.

It barks, the sharp note piercing right through his own being.

Not good, not good.

“You alright, Orihara?” 

Izaya glances at Dazai.

Not good!

Of all people, Dazai is not someone who Izaya wants to be caught in this predicament with.

No, it’s fine. Izaya can just play it off, he will play it. He wonders if Dazai is good with dogs. Surely, he can be of some use.

“Oh me? I was just staring at that dog over there.” Izaya flashes him a fake smile, hoping to throw him off.

“Hmm.”

“Alright, let’s keep going.”

Except, Izaya doesn’t move immediately. He’s waiting—or hoping—that Dazai will take charge.

To Izaya’s disappointment, he doesn’t. He peeks at Dazai from the corners of his eyes, his attention is directed at the golden furred dog with sharp, pointy ears. And the carefree smile on his face is wiped away.

Even after several seconds, neither dare take a single step.

“C’mon Orihara,” Dazai pouts. “We should get going. I thought you were taking the lead.”

The tension in Izaya’s shoulders tightens his muscles. “The restaurant is right up ahead.”

“Right, so let’s get moving.”

The corgi lets out another high-pitched yap, causing both men to flinch in place.

When it charges straight towards him, Izaya’s limbs stiffen.

No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no—

To his absolute dismay, the damn thing trots up to Izaya, paws prancing across the pavement and tail swaying side to side. His heart pounds against his ribs, as the vile creature sniffs at his feet, its nose making contact with his shoes.

Izaya has never known how to handle dogs, he has never cared to. What does this thing even want from him? How is he supposed to know what it’s thinking?

Sharply inhaling through his nose, Izaya steps to the side in an attempt to step around the canine and make his escape. Yet, the animal not only follows his steps but jumps at his leg and paws at his pants. Its bulging eyes gazing right into him.

Why him?

“Sh-Shoo.” Izaya timidly waves his hand at the corgi, not daring to touch it. 

Perhaps Dazai may be his last resort.

When Izaya turns to face him, he notices that Dazai has stepped further back. His shoulders are stiff, his amber eyes focus on the dog at Izaya’s feet. A slight smile curves on Dazai’s lips.

“What’s wrong Orihara? Afraid of dogs?”

“Of course not, I’m just not a dog person, that’s all,” Izaya scoffs. “What about you? You don’t seem too excited about it either.”

Dazai shrugs. “I’m also not a dog person. But if you ask me, you seem very tense.”

The corgi barks once more—Izaya’s eyes twitch as he holds back from revealing any sign of fear on his face. Dazai narrows his eyes at the dog.

“Well, I don’t want it anywhere near me.”

“Neither do I. It sounds like you’re trying ask for my help.”

He doesn’t want to admit it, but he does.

“And what if I did?”

“No way, I’d rather not deal with that thing,” Dazai shakes his head. “You’re an information broker, right? Shouldn’t you know something on how to deal with dogs?”

“Psh. Dogs aren’t my specialty,” Izaya retorts. “And aren’t you a detective? Maybe you can figure out a way to get out of this.”

A brief pause of silence between them, Dazai’s lips curl into a slight smirk.

Izaya senses that he won’t like what’s about to come next.

“Well,” Dazai rubs his finger on his chin. “Maybe if you ask nicely, I’ll consider it.”

No way. If he accepts Dazai’s help like this, Izaya will never hear the end of it. 

“Seriously?”

“I could abandon you here and leave you all night with it.” A sadistic smile spreads on Dazai’s face. “If you say ‘please help me, Dazai’, I’ll come to your rescue.”

“I refuse to say any of that.”

“Suit yourself.” Dazai turns away from Izaya and continues his way down the sidewalk towards Russian Sushi.

In turn, the corgi diverts its attention to Dazai as it scampers towards him, finally granting mercy to Izaya. 

Dazai pauses as he hears the canine approach from behind. It softly yaps at him, rubbing its gold fur against his slacks and sniffing his coat.

How the tables have turned.

“Well, well Dazai,” Izaya snickers. “It appears you’re the one in need of help now. Like I’d give it to you.”

“Heh.” Dazai peers his head over his shoulder, shooting a glare at him. “Bold of you to assume I need your help.”

His hand slips into one of his inside coat pockets and pulls out a bag of dog treats before turning around to face the dog, the culprit of their current distress. Seriously? Those fucking treats have been here the entire time and he waits til now to utilize them? Wait, why does he even carry around dog treats in the first place?

Maybe it’s better that Izaya doesn’t know.

“You want these?” Dazai shakes the bag, smirking at the animal. The corgi’s ears perk up to the sound of kibbles dancing in the plastic. He opens the bag, the dog raises its noise in the air, tongue slipping out and salivating at the smell. 

“Observe.”

Izaya watches as Dazai pulls out a few treats and rests them in his palm, holding it out to the dog. He allows it to sniff his hand from a distance, not ever allowing physical contact. The dog sits at Dazai’s feet, drooling at the sight of its snack. Izaya’s eyes widen as Dazai tosses the treats into his own mouth, proudly crunching on the bits and swallowing it all. 

The corgi stares blankly at Dazai, eyes drooping with disappointment as its tail ceases wagging.

Izaya’s mouth hangs open for a moment, he burrows his eyebrows at Dazai.

Why must he witness that?

“Ha!” Dazai glares at the dog. “That’s what you get for challenging me.”

“Ugh.” Izaya brings a palm to his face. “Don’t tell me that was your idea of helping me.”

“What if it was?”

“You’re joking, right?” Izaya narrows his eyes. “You could’ve thrown some treats in one direction and we could’ve gotten away sooner. What does eating them in front of the damn thing even accomplish?”

“Well,” Dazai shrugs. “Someone has to show it who the superior being really is.”

“Well, it’s still here.” Izaya points at the corgi, still sitting at Dazai’s feet.

“Hmm.” Dazai diverts his attention back at the dog, which gazes back at him. Once more, Dazai grabs a few treats and presents them to the corgi before shoving the handful in his mouth. The dog whimpers as Dazai stares it down, chewing on the treats. Slowly, the corgi backs away, retreating for the night.

“See? My strategies never fail.”

Izaya can’t decide what’s more unsettling: the fact that Dazai ate dog treats to get them out of this fiasco or the fact that it fucking worked.

They don’t exchange a word with one another as they continue their way to Russian Sushi. When they finally settle in, they seat themselves at the bar top and Dazai orders sake for the both of them. At least he can come up with one sane idea this evening. 

“I don’t like dogs,” Dazai says, holding up his sake glass. “I think they’re harder to deal with than people.”

“I agree with you on that,” Izaya sighs. “I just can’t predict their actions as I can with humans.”

Perhaps they have more in common than they both realize.

[callmemana]

Intricate Threads: A Ballet of Secrets

Pietro x Widow!self-insert

Summary: When the Red Room finally had been shut down and Dreykov dead, three ex-Widows follow Natasha back to the Avengers where they meet and form a bond with the other members of the team. The Widows had control over what they do for the first time and aren’t gonna let something as sweet as freedom slip through their hands. You can never be too cautious about what might lurk in the depths of the Galaxy.

A/N: This will take place across a couple of marvel movies, starting with a month or so before Captain America: Civil War and stop at Avenger’s Endgame.

A/N #2: the Romanian & Russian dialog will be in English but in {brackets} because sometimes Google Translate isn’t trustworthy.

Warnings: inaccurate fighting scenes, cursing, and everyone lives because I said so and Cap doesn’t stay back in the 40s.

{masterlist 📚} {previous chapter 📎} {next chapter📖}

Chapter 1 - Daylight to Midnight

⚡️⚡️⚡️

After the Red Room had crashed, it wasn’t a hard decision for me and a few other Widows to follow Natasha back to New York. I wasn’t the youngest of the newbie Avengers, that title would go to Peter Parker, but I wasn’t the eldest either, Baylie.

I was about the same age as the Maximoff Twins. We all got along for the most part, but it's hard to be truly friends when you’re both closed off towards one another.

Trust isn’t something you have after years of only being able to rely on yourself and that can be tested when you’re relaxing on the couch with a companion and you can’t find the remote.

Friendships will crack quickly over something as stupid as the possibility of sitting on the remote and then not moving when you’re looking for it. That can ruin friendships quickly.

Also we’re still in that awkward phase of our lives where we’re still getting those stupid teenage hormones. Well, most of us are, Vision got to skip that part which is totally unfair! And Peter’s just starting that phase of becoming that moody teen that he is. He’s not very fun to hang around when he’s sassier than usual. I don’t know how Stark and his Aunt handle him.  

I grew close to the only other people my age, the Maximoff Twins and my sisters. I’ve known Baylie and Raven since we were children before the Red Room and took care of each other while training to be a Widow.

I’m closer with Wanda than the Speedster, but when you’ve been deprived of having a friend it’s nice to finally have one. She also is dating my little sister Raven. I get along okay with Pietro, we have our moments here and there, but usually it's all smooth sailing.

He likes to flirt with the female population in Stark Tower which consist of two bachelorettes; Nat and myself, but he knows better than to try anything on Natasha. So it all goes to me. I mean, I don’t hate it, but I don’t exactly like to be hit on when i’m trying to peacefully eat my cereal in the morning.

There are other women in the tower, but most are in relationships. Shield agents are too easy for him, or so he’s told us. I think that he’s already gone through most if not all the single ones.

Bay thinks he likes to flirt with me because I’m ’hard to get, even harder to keep’ but I just roll my eyes and tell her to fuck off.

Ray thinks it’s sweet that he flirts and always tries to give him ideas on how to ‘woo me’ because she doesn’t see me smile very often, but when I’m with him i can’t help it. She’s even recruited Wanda to help.

Nat pretty much leaves the subject alone, every once in a while she’ll add her two cents into the mix. But she’s also a little shit so you know she’s pulling strings in the background trying to set something up.

Pretty much everyone on the team and even a couple of high-ranking SHIELD Agents are rooting for us.

The way I see it, he’s an amazingly gorgeous man with a thick accent that can make any woman fall for his charm. This translates to Fuckboy, if you ask me.

And for my first real relationship fresh out of the Red Room, I’m not dumb enough to have my heart broken by a guy like him. So he can flirt and try his little horny Jedi mind tricks on me, but it isn’t happening.

We’re best friends and Wanda and Raven are dating, but just because our siblings are together and he’s stupidly attractive doesn’t mean that I’ll cross that line between friends to lovers with him anytime soon.

There’s plenty of fish in the sea, he just has to get out of the tower and catch one’s attention. Which should be easier than pie for him.

I’m just not going to be another notch in his belt buckle for him. I’m damaged and I don’t want to put my traumatic past into his future.

We’ve both been through enough as it is. So why should we add unnecessary baggage to the mix when we can’t even get over our own?

Dreykov wanted to break us down and build us back up stronger. He wanted the power over us and to make sure that we could never leave him.

To keep our heads in the assignments, so he took away our choice to a happy future. He does this to millions upon millions of young women every day.

Now though, with the Red Room destroyed, all those other girls have a choice. They can be reunited with their parents and no more children will be kidnapped and tortured to fit perfectly into the Red Room’s manifest.

I know I don’t even want to think about my past, so many terrifying tests and experiments. How could I ask him to share when I’m not willing to do so too.

The pain, screams, and daily lectures about how the graduation ceremony was a privilege and reward for passing every test they could throw at you.

Now I see what it really is, another way to control you.

⚡️⚡️⚡️

Getting up in the morning was a big task for me, I hated mornings more than anything. So when Steve did his ‘Good Morning Checks’ I usually threw my pillow at the door and cuddled further into my blankets.

Today though, since Steve was out on a mission along with most of the other adults, it was F.R.I.D.A.Y that woke me up with a loud trumpet noise. I grumbled as I sat up and wrapped a blanket over my shoulders before heading out in my oversized shirt and spandex booty shorts.

I slowly made my way to the kitchen and made myself a cup of coffee and started to crack eggs for some breakfast. I had F.R.I.D.A.Y play some pop music as I continued to cook, using the spatula as a microphone. Every once in a while I’d take a sip from my mug just to the left of me.

In the middle of making the scrambled eggs my blanket over my shoulders fell and the sudden lost of warmth made me shiver and to warm myself up again I reached for my coffee I just grabbed air. It was missing and as much as I knew I was the only one awake and out of bed.

I looked around the counters, making sure that I didn’t just place it a few inches away from me but I never saw it. I widened the search and when I turned around and caught a glimpse of the smug look on the Speedster’s lips I knew what had made my blanket fall. I stared right into those beautiful icy blue eyes as I realized he must’ve snuck over and snatched my mug too.

“Did you really just Jack my cup? There’s like a hundred of them in the cabinets above the coffee machine!”

A thick Slovakian voice replied smugly, “But this one was closer and full. No need to dirty a new cup, {Darling}.”

I seethed and reached for my coffee when he swiftly moved it out of my way. “Serioulsy Pietro. Give it back, you have legs and they work just fine. Get your own.”

“Yours is better, I think I’ll just keep this one.”

“Seriously? Give it back, it's too early for this and I’m making scrambled eggs for everyone.” I point the spatula/mictrophone at him threateningly. He knows that if I wanted to I could use it as a weapon.

Pietro raised his eyebrows, smirk still on his gorgeous face. “I’m not giving it up. Nice try tricking me with food.”

I groan as I rolled my eyes and go to the cabinet where the mugs usually are. When it was opened, the cups were not on their designated shelf. They were now at the top where I couldn’t reach. I took a sharp inhale before I turn around abruptly, anger colored my face red. “You didn’t.”

“Oh, but I did.” He looks so smug as he takes a gulp of my coffee. At that moment the others started to trail in, most likely from the smell of food cooking.

“What’s this morning’s spat about today?” asked Ray as she went to grab a mug only to grab a glass cup.

She turns it left and right in confusion before setting it back and stepping a few steps in reverse, seeing that the mugs are on a higher shelf. Raven spares a look to Wanda, and then she uses her magic to bring down three more.

“Where’s your coffee Amanda?”

“Your {idiot} brother took it.”

“{Be nice}” replied Raven as she hit her sister as a warning.

“{He took my coffee! I have a reason to be upset!}”

Raven gave another ‘behave’ glare and turned to the coffee pot pouring herself and Wanda a cup. I nudged her with my own and dipped my head towards the machine. Raven playfully rolled her eyes before grabbing and filling mine and handing it back.

“How did you sleep?”

Raven shrugged and looked at Wanda before returning to face me and whisper, “It wasn’t the best, {I had nightmares all night about the Red Room.}”

We both checked to make sure the Twins were occupied in their own conversation before continuing.

“{Why didn’t you come and get me? We could’ve talked it out}.”

Raven waved me off taking a sip of her coffee, “I’m fine. When they get too bad I’ll talk to Bay or you.”

I gave her a concerned smile but let it go, “Ok everyone, breakfast is done. Come and get a plate.”

Of course it was just the four of us, Baylie would be asleep for a while, Vision didn’t need to do anything human, and Peter was at home before his school started.

Pietro was the first to the skillet, kissing my cheek as I drank some more caffeine before he scooped heaps of the eggs onto his plate. I had made sure to make a whole carton because of his metabolism. “{Thank you, Princess}.”

I froze from the unexpected kiss, the two other women in the room giggle behind their plates. We all sat in silence as we ate our breakfast before we had to get ready for training. Bay came in a couple of minutes before we left to get dressed.

“Good morning, any coffee or food left?” She walked around the kitchen and grabbed what she wanted and sat down at the counter. She was greeted from everyone in the room and talked a little before we really did have to go get dressed for the gym.

I put my dirty dishes into the sink and put rubber gloves on before starting to wash them and then everyone else started to pile their own plates and silverware into the soapy water.

“Really? {I can’t wait for training, then I’ll kick their asses}” I mutter to myself as the others leave the room. I missed the way Pietro looked back at me as I frustratedly scrubbed the dishes.

⚡️⚡️⚡️

After I was finished I rushed to my room to put on some athletic short and a sports bra, already hot from the running around like a chicken with it’s head cut off. Once I was inside the gym I started my stretching, plugging my headphones into my phone and opening the Spotify app and picking a random playlist.

Lost in my own little world, I missed the staring from the Speedster as I taped my hands before starting to box. The bag was swinging wildly with each punch thrown at it. I kept the rhythm for a while until I felt tired and thirsty, so I quit for a couple of minutes to get a drink.

I hadn’t realized the time and the fact that everyone else was gone from the gym, so I took the gloves and tape off of my hands and wrists and went to my room to shower. When I was done and dressed I went to the livingroom to watch a movie.

A luxury that I didn’t really have growing up, since they didn’t do that in the Red Room. Unlike Steve, I didn’t have a little notebook full of everything in the last 75 years that I missed, I wasn’t in my early hundreds and buried in ice. I was trained to be an assassin and there was no room for ‘childishness.’

I made popcorn and found some of the snacks and candies that Stark had stashed everywhere he could, you can’t hide anything from a spy. A rush of wind and then the couch sunk where he sat beside me, pretty much touching my hip to his.

“What are we watching {Princess}?” he mumbled over some of the chips I had set up on the couch. I snatched the bag away from him, taking a handful and chewing on the chips. “I’m watching a Disney princess movie.”

I shoved him away from me, getting comfy in my spot on the couch and moving the blanket to cover my whole body. “Don’t be like that {Darling}, let me stay and watch the movie with you.”

Pietro tried to get under the blanket with me, but I ripped them out of his hands, wiggling my pointer finger at him, “Uh no, {Playboy}, we are not sharing this. Go get yourself one from your room, I’ll pause it and wait for you.”

“Thanks {Darling}, I’ll be back in a flash.” he kissed my cheek again before running off towards his room to grab a blanket.

I chuckled and rolled my eyes at his little affection that he’s given me today. It’s nothing really new between the two of us, ever since we’ve all became friends. He’s like that to the other girls too, nothing more than a little greeting or goodbye or even playfulness that he shows.

Pietro kept his word and was back quickly with pillows and blankets and drinks and somehow even more snacks and candies. I gasp, “Where did you find those! They’re the best candies Stark has hidden and I’ve searched for months and haven’t found any!”

He smiled at my excitement and handed me the plastic packaging that he had opened for me and I grabbed a couple before tossing them in my mouth and chewing. “Are you ready and comfortable?”

Pietro sat down and threw the blanket over himself before laying his head on my lap and looking up into my eyes, “Ready {Princess}.”

Chuckling, I messed up his hair a little and hit the ‘play’ button. “Whatever goob, just keep your eyes on the screen.”

⚡️⚡️⚡️

The next few hours we took turns picking out different movies, only thing that mattered to us was each other’s company and the movie in the background.

I don’t know when I fell asleep but when I woke up it was to the sound of a gravely voice speaking in a language I didn’t understand. “{It’s time to get up Princess, dinner’s ready.}”

I groan and stretch as I slowly get up, taking the blanket and turning myself into a burrito before walking into the kitchen. “Well good evening Sleeping Beauty, I’m glad you could join us. You and Piet looked very comfy on that couch together.”

I punched Bay on the shoulder, glaring at her from across from me at the table. Bay and Ray giggled into their hands at my reaction. They already knew of my little crush on the man and loved to throw it in my face about the flirty remarks we both exchanged.

“{Don't start that shit, there is nothing going on.}”

“Hey, hey, English please!” announced Peter as he grabbed a piece of pizza from the box.

“Sorry, Pete. I’m just so used to talking to other Widows that I forget not everyone else can speak Russian.”

Peter smiled, taking a huge bite. “No problem Ms Baylie, I know its hard for you girls.”

Now it was Raven and myself who were laughing, Peter might’ve been a teenager but he did have some ‘old people’ tendencies. He always called older people Misses or Mister and it made most of the time they laugh at his formality and others got frustrated because of it.

The dinner continued with laughter and small meaningless arguments. Vision ended up joining us too, talking science with Peter as the rest of us talked about everything and nothing at the same time. It was fun to have dinners as a family, since I can’t really remember the last proper one I had with my own.

After the pizza was put away, I started to put on the rubber gloves and clean the dirty dishes again and I felt a slight breeze to my side where Pietro was standing now. He took the plates that had already been washed and started to dry them.

The silence between us was comfortable and friendly. I hummed a little tune from earlier in the day and did a little dance as I put the dried plates in the cupboards.

Pietro sped past me, taking the plate from the drying rack and then the ones from my hands and put them in their respective place. I rest my closed fist on my hips, a slight smile on my lips.

“Really? Sometimes it's okay to do domestic things without super powers every once in a while. Plus, not everyone in the house has them.”

Pietro smirks, “I can think of one thing that’s domestic we can do without my powers, {Darling}.”

I blush at his words, smiling to myself as I shake my head, “Ok yeah, keep talking game buddy. I’m gonna go clean up our movie night and then go to sleep.”

Before I could even exit the kitchen, a blur of sliver passed and then stopped right in front of me, holding all of our snacks, candies, and popcorn bowl. “Thanks, less for me to do. Good Night Piet.”

I kissed his cheek and then left for my room, where I ended up reading until about ten. I got ready in dance attire and then grabbed my old pointe shoes, making sure the coast was clear before existing my room and sneaking over to the gym where Baylie and Raven was waiting.

“{You took a while, having too much fun with the boytoy?}” smirked Baylie, opening the door and allowing Raven and myself in first.

I turned on the lights as Ray sat down and put on her ballet shoes, Bay coming inside and doing the same. Once Raven was done she set up her phone to the sound system and syncing up a song that we have engraged in our brains.

⚡️⚡️⚡️

Birdie’s Basket 🧺: @dragon-kazansky @whiskeyswriting @faerieroyal @bayisdying @askmarinaandothers

🏷️ list: