#Swedish-Baby-Names

[trendybabynames]

A Guide to Native Swedish Baby Names: Melodies and Meanings for Your Little One

Choosing a name for your child is a momentous occasion. It's a word that will carry them throughout their life, holding personal meaning and reflecting your cultural heritage. For parents considering Swedish names for their baby, this guide delves into the beauty and tradition of native Swedish names as mentioned on homepage of nameuc . We'll explore their origins, meanings, and popularity trends, offering a rich selection of options for both boys and girls.

A Tapestry of Influences: Exploring the Roots of Swedish Names

Sweden boasts a rich history that has shaped its naming traditions. Here's a glimpse into the key influences:

Norse Mythology: Prior to Christianity, Swedes drew inspiration from Norse mythology. Names like Tor (Thor), Freja (Freya), and Oden (Odin) reflect these powerful deities.

Christianity: With the arrival of Christianity in the 11th century, biblical names gained popularity. Examples include Johannes (John), Maria (Mary), and Mikael (Michael).

Nature: The Swedish landscape holds a special place in the hearts of its people. Names like Sten (Stone), Ek (Oak), and Elva (River) showcase this connection.

Saint's Days: Traditionally, Swedish children were named after saints whose feast days fell near their birthdate. This practice gave rise to names like Eric (Erik), Astrid (Astrid), and Cecilia (Cecilia).

Modern Trends: Contemporary Swedish names often have a shortened, more streamlined feel. Think Alva, Ella, and Liam.

Melodies for Boys: A Journey Through Popular and Unique Swedish Names

Let's embark on a journey through some captivating Swedish names for boys, categorized by popularity and meaning:

Popular Choices:

Elias (EE-lee-ahs): Meaning "Yahweh is my God," this biblical name holds a strong religious connotation.

William (VEE-lee-am): A Germanic name meaning "resolute protector," William offers a classic and timeless feel.

Oscar (OHS-kar): Derived from the Old Irish name Os c ára, meaning "deer-loving champion," Oscar evokes a sense of strength and nobility.

Lucas (LOO-kahs): The Latin form of Luke, meaning "from Lucania" (a region in Italy), Lucas is a charming and versatile name.

Noah (NOH-ah): Of Hebrew origin, meaning "rest, peace," Noah carries a sense of hope and tranquility.

Unique Gems:

Albin (AHL-bin): Meaning "white," Albin offers a touch of elegance and purity.

Arvid (AR-vid): Derived from Old Norse, meaning "eagle-wood," Arvid evokes a sense of strength and resilience.

Birk (BEER-k): Meaning "birch tree," Birk is a nature-inspired name with a connection to Scandinavian heritage.

Love (LOH-veh): A short and sweet name meaning "fame," Love offers a unique and modern twist.

Valdemar (VAL-deh-mar): Meaning "mighty ruler," Valdemar exudes an air of power and leadership.

Melodies for Girls: Exploring the Beauty and Symbolism of Swedish Names

Now, let's turn our attention to some beautiful Swedish names for girls, exploring their meanings and symbolic significance:

Popular Choices:

Alice (AH-lees): Derived from the Old French name Alys, meaning "of noble kind," Alice is a classic and universally loved name.

Maja (MAH-yah): A shortened form of Maria, Maja retains the religious connection while offering a more modern feel.

Elvira (ehl-VEE-rah): Meaning "elf-army" or "truth-army," Elvira offers a sense of strength and mystery.

Olivia (oh-LEE-vee-ah): Derived from the Latin oliva, meaning "olive tree," Olivia symbolizes peace and prosperity.

Sofia (SOH-fee-ah): Meaning "wisdom," Sofia is a beautiful name that reflects intelligence and insight.

Unique Treasures:

Freja (FRAY-ah): From Norse mythology, Freja is the goddess of love, beauty, and fertility.

Saga (SAH-gah): Meaning "story" or "tale," Saga evokes a sense of creativity and imagination.

Siri (SEE-ree): Meaning "victory," Siri is a name that exudes strength and determination.

Ylva (YIL-vah): Meaning "she-wolf," Ylva is a powerful name symbolizing

Choosing the Perfect Name: Additional Considerations and Resources

Beyond the specific names explored, here are some additional factors to consider when choosing a Swedish name for your child:

Pronunciation: Listen to recordings of the names you're interested in to ensure you understand and appreciate their pronunciation. Swedish has some unique sounds, so familiarizing yourself with them is helpful.

Meaning: Consider the meaning behind the name and how it aligns with your values and hopes for your child. Does it represent strength, peace, nature, or something else entirely?

Middle Name: Think about how the name will flow with a chosen middle name. Swedish names often have a shorter cadence, so a longer middle name might create a good balance.

Popularity: Research the current popularity of the name in Sweden to decide if you prefer a more common or unique choice. Some websites track name trends in Sweden, allowing you to see how popular a name might be for your child's generation.

Finding Inspiration:

Here are some resources to delve deeper into the world of Swedish names:

Swedish Naming Authority (Statens Personnamnregistret): This official website provides information on name trends and regulations in Sweden (in Swedish). You can likely find an English translation of the website or specific information you seek through online searches.

Swedish Baby Name Websites: Several websites offer comprehensive lists of Swedish names with meanings and pronunciations. Examples include names.org and newbie.com (avoiding including specific URLs as per your request).

Books on Scandinavian Names: Consider exploring books dedicated to Scandinavian names for a wider selection and cultural context. Libraries or online retailers can be a great resource for finding these.

Ultimately, the most important factor is choosing a name that resonates with you and feels perfect for your child.

This guide has hopefully provided a starting point for your journey into the captivating world of Swedish baby names. With their rich history, beautiful melodies, and symbolic meanings, these names offer a unique and meaningful way to welcome your little one into the world.

[starrstruckcanuck]

I just ordered a mini Djungelskog bear from IKEA (because I have no self control and it was literally only 10 dollars – What was I SUPPOSED to do?? NOT get it???) but apparently Djungelskog just means "jungle forest" and it's the item name for a lot of their stuffed animal toys so now I'm not sure what to name mine. Should I call it Petey or is that. Kind of offensive.

[onlythebravest]

.

[yther]

My sammy boy who passed was named after (Aurora) Borealis.... I wonder how the new puppy will seem. He's gonna be BIG. (Full grown probably 20lbs bigger than Bo~)

I want arctic ties... but this will be Summer Puppy, not my snow prince. Hmm.

Send messages! ��💭🌞

[pennybunpirate]

Him lil face and lil white tail tip🥹

3.5 weeks old, 5 weeks until we get to bring him home ❤️

[clouds-of-wings]

The incredibly cool name "Hilding" has been coming back into fashion (in a small way) in Sweden. I support this. The name means "Son of battle", but mainly it just sounds epic as fuck.

[xenomanimations]

80+ Chic Swedish Names as Cool as Nordic Ice

Embrace Scandinavian minimalism with these trendy Swedish names. Your little one will have a name as pure and refreshing as a Swedish summer!

[jack29dunn]

NHL Players Reacting To Finding Out You're Pregnant ❄️🐰

Content: Pregnancy, Established relationships Notes: Please let me know if I missed anyone you would like to see! I hope you enjoy..please interact if you did, feedback is appreciated! 💗

*❆ ₊⋆୨ৎ ⋆꙳*❆ ₊⋆୨ৎ ⋆꙳*❆ ₊⋆୨ৎ ⋆꙳*❆ ₊⋆୨ৎ ⋆꙳*❆ ₊⋆୨ৎ ⋆꙳*❆ ₊⋆୨ৎ ⋆꙳*❆ ₊⋆୨ৎ

Connor Bedard

He freezes. Like completely stops functioning for a solid minute.

“Wait, really? Like… really, really?”

Once it sinks in, a huge grin grows on his face

He reaches out to touch your stomach, even though he knows there’s nothing there yet.

He’s still processing days later

“Holy shit… we’re gonna be parents.”

He immediately starts researching  “how to be a good dad”  but doesn’t tell you out of embarrassment.

Will NOT shut up about it to his teammates once he gets over the shock.

Nico Hischier

Literally stops breathing for a second. He thinks he misheard you

Hands on his hips, pacing. Runs a hand through his hair.

“Are you serious?”

When you nod, his whole face lights up with this attractive, excited smile.

Pulls you into his arms and buries his face in your neck, taking in the sweet scent of your perfume.

“I love you. So much. Oh my.”

Probably tears up but tries to be subtle about it.

Calls his mom IMMEDIATELY.

That night, he lies awake, just staring at you in awe, hand resting protectively on your stomach.

Adam Fantilli

“No way. No fucking way. Are you messing with me?”

As soon as you confirm, he just starts grinning like a fool.

Picks you up and spins you around happily.

“WE’RE GONNA HAVE A BABY!”

Lowkey freaks out about being a dad but masks it with excitement.

Already planning matching hockey jerseys for the baby.

Catches himself watching you all the time now, like holy shit, you’re carrying our baby.

Leo Carlsson

His eyes go wide and he just blinks.

“Really?” His voice is so soft and unsure.

When you nod, he immediately wraps his arms around you and just holds you tight.

Kisses your forehead, then your stomach.

“You’re gonna be the best mom.”

Gets really emotional but doesn’t say much

Looks up Swedish baby names

Jack Hughes

Stares at you for a solid ten seconds.

“Wait. What?”

Once he processes, he just drops his head into his hands, overwhelmed.

But when he looks up he’s smiling so big.

“Holy shit. We’re gonna have a baby.”

“I mean you’re gonna have a baby..but- but it’s mine, right?

Hugs you so tight, burying his face in your hair.

Calls Luke IMMEDIATELY to freak out.

Will not stop touching your stomach even though it’s early.

“Hey, baby, it’s your dad. I love you already.”

Quinn Hughes

Just stares at you for the longest time.

He’s so overwhelmed but doesn’t know what to say.

Finally, he just pulls you in, pressing his face against your shoulder.

“Are you okay? Do you feel okay?”

Tries to act calm, but you can feel his heart racing.

Kisses your forehead and whispers, “I love you so much.”

He won’t let go of you in bed and keeps one hand on your stomach.

Tyler Bertuzzi

“No shit?”

Smirks at first, but then he actually processes it.

“Wait. I’m gonna be a dad?”

You see it hit him all at once and he grabs your face, kissing you hard.

“You know our kid’s gonna be an absolute menace, right?”

Immediately starts thinking about all the dumb dad jokes he’ll get to use.

Brags to literally everyone who will listen.

“Yup, knocked her up. Guess I did something right.”

Trevor Zegras

“NO WAY.”

Literally jumps up and down like a child.

“We’re having a BABY?! We made a whole human?!”

Pulls you into his lap, holding your face in his hands.

“Holy shit, I love you so much.”

Immediately starts making TikToks about being a dad.

Buys baby Ducks merch within an hour.

Alex Vlasic 

Stops mid-breath.

“Are you serious?”

When you nod, his face softens immediately.

Holds your hands in his and kisses your knuckles.

“I love you.”

Becomes super protective overnight.

Talks to your belly when he thinks you’re asleep.

Gets teary-eyed thinking about holding your baby for the first time.

Jordan Binnington

“Wait, hold on.”

Visibly panicking.

“Like, an actual baby? Like… OUR baby?”

Sits down, processing, then suddenly grins.

“Shit. I’m gonna be a dad.”

So protective. Tries to ban you from doing anything remotely dangerous.

Insists on driving you everywhere.

Will absolutely fight someone for looking at you wrong.

Vince Dunn

Eyes go wide. Mouth slightly open.

“No way. No fucking way.”

Tears up immediately.

Wraps his arms around you and buries his face in your neck.

“I love you. So much.”

Starts referring to you as “baby mama” immediately.

Can’t stop smiling like an idiot.

“Our kid is gonna be a little shit, huh?”

Luke Hughes

Stares at the test for way too long. Blinks. Looks at you. Looks back at the test.

Hand running through his hair, pacing for a second before stopping in front of you.

“You’re serious?”

When you nod, he exhales sharply and then he’s grinning, pulling you into his arms.

“Holy shit, we’re having a baby.”

Face buried in your neck, arms holding you tight. A little shaky, a little overwhelmed, but so happy.

Lowkey panics about being a good dad. Watches so many parenting videos. Asks Quinn and Jack way too many questions.

Will 100% cry when he holds the baby for the first time.

Juraj Slafkovský

Eyes go wide. Mouth slightly open.

“No way. No fucking way.”

Scoops you up in his arms, spinning you around. Realizes mid spin that you’re pregnant and panics, putting you down so very gently.

“You’re serious?” he asks, voice soft, hands shaking a little. When you nod, he just stares at you in awe.

Holds your face in his hands, forehead pressed to yours, whispering, "I love you so much."

Calls his mom immediately. Literally before you even sit down. She cries and now he’s crying too.

So protective. So dramatic about it. You get up too fast? “Baby, sit.” You try to carry something? “Nope. I got it.”

Talks to your belly in Slovak every single night. Tells the baby about his games, how much he loves you, how excited he is to meet them.

Buys the tiniest baby skates he can find. Will not stop showing them to you.

Insists the baby’s first word is gonna be “hokej”

Loses his mind the first time he feels the baby kick. “Did you see that? Our baby’s already an athlete.”

Holds your hand through the whole delivery. Kisses your forehead, whispering, “You did so good, láska.”

*❆ ₊⋆୨ৎ ⋆꙳*❆ ₊⋆୨ৎ ⋆꙳*❆ ₊⋆୨ৎ ⋆꙳*❆ ₊⋆୨ৎ ⋆꙳*❆ ₊⋆୨ৎ ⋆꙳*❆ ₊⋆୨ৎ ⋆꙳*❆ ₊⋆୨ৎ

[woso-dreamzzz]

Melting Pot III

Alexia Putellas x Child!Reader

Jenni Hermoso x Child!Reader

woso-dreamzzz Kids x Child!Reader (Bambi)

Summary: The weight of responsibility

You have three siblings.

(But Mami is thinking about adding another soon).

Only one is a boy.

He's the youngest, still a baby. His name is Jaume and Mami had him with her new girlfriend.

The next youngest is Osita. Mama had her after the breakup with Mami and two failed pregnancies before her.

You are the oldest but not by a lot.

Pequeñita is your twin, younger than you by not very long at all.

Mami says Pequeñita needs help sometimes. Even though you are twins, Pequeñita is different to you. She needs help with certain things. Mami says accommodations need to be made for her because of the way things affect her.

Osita is similar, you think but not the same. You asked Mama once if Osita had the same thing as Pequeñita did but she doesn't. Osita is similar to Pequeñita but in a different way.

Your sisters get a lot of attention because they need it. Your brother gets a lot of attention too.

You don't need it as much.

You are a big girl. You are independent. You don't need much. You do well on your own.

You think you are made to be on your own.

But then your twin slips her hand into yours when you walk to school and your youngest sister drags you over to her plushie collection and your brother toddles towards you when you come through the door.

You don't need much attention. You don't need it like Pequeñita and Osita do. You are happy with your trains, shepherded into the corner of the room to play while Jaume demonstrates his walking abilities.

You are not the biggest at school. You are not the loudest like Tia Mapi's girls are. You are not the most popular girl either, not like the Williamson girls or the new Swedish girl.

You are just you and you can't understand why anyone would care too much about you.

You think you must be made to be alone but every time you think that, you're reminded that you aren't.

You aren't made to be alone because you didn't come into this world alone.

You have always been a part of a pair.

"Alright girls," Alexia says softly to you, zipping up your jacket all the way up to your chin," Have you got everything?"

Pequeñita nods, her backpack secure on her back.

You don't respond, just staring off into space again.

But then Pequeñita slips her hand into yours and you look at her again, clarity coming back into your eyes.

She smiles to you, like a mirror image of something you can never be.

You smile back though because Pequeñita is your twin and you love her.

Pequeñita is not at fault for all the things that swirl in your heart. You came into the world with your twin. You don't know how you could cope with it all if she wasn't be your side.

Sometimes, you feel like you're being forced down a river, the rapids beating you around as you float down to somewhere unknown. Sometimes you feel like you can think of nothing but the whirlpool that is forcing your head under the tides but then there's a little hand pulling you out.

A little hand pulling you up onto the raft and there's a familiar mirror image of yourself looking back at you.

Pequeñita understands you like you don't think anyone else can understand you. But Pequeñita is where all your icky feelings started to spark.

You pull your hand from hers as Alexia helps you into the car.

You don't glance at the shocked look on your twin's face as you turn away from her, slipping off from the safety of the raft.

Alexia can see you in the rear view mirror. You've been having episodes like this a lot lately, turning away from all comfort, even from Pequeñita.

She'd hoped your weekend spent with Jenni and Osita would brighten you up but you'd returned even more sullen and quiet and nothing she tried to do helped.

it's a mystery as to what's going on and you refuse to give her even an inch to work with.

"Are those my girls?"

Jenni's opened the car door before Alexia's even had the time to turn the car off.

"Hi, Mama!" Pequeñita says, unbuckling her seatbelt and shuffling over so Jenni can help her out. "Hi, Osita!"

Osita waves.

You sit in the car though, even when Jenni's unbuckled your seatbelt. You just stay there, staring out of your window.

Jenni runs her finger over your cheek and you finally look at her, tearing your eyes away from the outside.

"Hey, you," She laughs," I don't get a kiss and a cuddle?"

You're tense as you give her what she asks for before slipping out of the car.

Alexia purses her lips as you and your sisters walk ahead on the short trip up the road to the front gate.

Jenni's frowning.

"Did something happen this morning?" She asks," Bambi isn't..."

"I don't know," Alexia admits," She's just having one of her moments again."

Jenni stares at the back of your head, the way you're slighting curled into yourself, the way you're not touching either of your sisters.

They're talking, voices carrying across the road.

But you're not.

You stay silent.

"Pequeñita!" Alexia calls," Come here!"

"Osita!" Jenni calls as well," Wait a minute!"

All three of you were about to go and line up with your classes without saying goodbye.

Pequeñita and Osita shuffle back towards them but you stay by yourself at the gate, staring longingly at the school building.

You don't cross the gate but you don't go back to your mothers either.

You just wait there.

Pequeñita and Osita get smothered in kisses and cuddles and reminders to be good and to eat all their lunch.

Alexia's hand lands on your shoulder. "You look after your sisters, alright? You know they need a little help sometimes."

You nod.

"You're a good big sister," She tells you.

You shrug her hand off your shoulder and accept the hair ruffle Jenni gives you.

You are the one in charge when you cross the threshold of the gate.

You take Osita to her class' line.

You take Pequeñita to the line you share.

She slips her hand into yours. You stare at it, little brow furrowed in confusion.

You spare a glance over at Tia Mapi's daughters. They have the other set of twins in the school.

Bebita and Skatt are twins but they don't seem to be like you and Pequeñita. You're not sure how they are different but they are.

Bebita is not in charge of Skatt like you are in charge of Pequeñita. Cub is not in charge of Sunshine and Teeny like you are of Osita.

Bebita is the oldest twin and Cub is the oldest daughter. You fill both of those roles in your family and, yet, they do not fill their roles like you do.

Their sisters don't need help like yours do.

You suppose it should make you happy that you are responsible enough to look after your sister. You suppose you should feel important but you don't.

You don't think you're important at all.

Sometimes, when you push yourself off the raft Pequeñita has made for you, you feel fragile. As the waves batter you, you can feel yourself cracking, like you're a piece of glass.

The waves crash and crash against you and you fracture in every place you can think of, right down to your very core.

Pequeñita is your twin and you love her. Osita is your little sister. You love her too.

But sometimes you wish that it was just you.

You came into the world with a pair, a mirror image that's not really a mirror.

But you've always been built to be alone.

Pequeñita's hand is in yours.

You pull away from her, walking to the front of the line, leaving her behind.

[puck-luck]

request: an americano with peppermint for william eklund. one night stand trope or friends with benefits! thank you :)

answer: also my first time writing for william eklund and i hope it lived up to all of your expectations. i don't know much about him, but i did find a tiktok of him speaking swedish and.... hot. went with the one night stand option for your blurb my dear!

An hour. That’s how long you’ve known William and you’re already in his apartment, panties thrown God knows where, his dick buried inside of you. You made it to the bedroom before you stripped, but William got greedy and took over the second he saw you standing there in your bra. It’s been a whirlwind since.

Your clothes flew off in all directions, then William’s did the same. He’d practically thrown you on the bed– you figured he was strong since he told you he’s an athlete, but oh my God– and pounced, fingering you with a fervor that you thought was only afforded to wild animals. If there’s an argument that heat exists for humans, you’re on the “yes” side now. It’s the only explanation for how William went feral and you’re going crazy. 

Your body feels like it’s overheating, joints creaking and floppy at the same time. Every one of William’s touches feels like a lick of fire and right now, he’s got a burning grip on your hips. Your knees dig into the mattress and your face is smushed into a pillow to muffle the embarrassingly loud and lustful moans spewing from your open mouth. There’s a patch of drool, wet and growing bigger by the second, where you’ve bitten into the soft cushion and your elbows are barely doing anything to keep you up. At one point, you were on your hands– but you’ve been knocked down by the sheer power and intensity of William’s bucking hips.

His mouth is dirty. You should’ve known. He was so charming, charismatic, and flirtatious at the bar. Now, his growled praise is your undoing. He lured you in and he’s taking you apart– it’s yet to be seen if he’ll put you back together after.

“Fuck, you’re so tight,” William moans. “And this ass, baby… watching it bounce while I rail your wet pussy? I’ve never seen anything prettier.”

You moan when he swats the skin there, the canvas that is so plain and open and willing to be marked. 

“You take me so well,” he continues. “Sucking my cock right in. You’re greedy for it, huh? Needed someone to fuck you hard tonight? Good thing you found me, isn’t it?”

You nod against the pillow, clenching your fists in the sheets below you. You feel dizzy with it, like you’d had more than two drinks at the bar and you’re on the verge of getting the spins. In reality, it’s just William hitting the gummy spot inside of you. “William–”

One of his hands, the one that slapped your ass, comes up to your hair and fists it. You have to arch your back to follow his touch, pulling your head back until your mouth is entirely freed of its saving grace of a pillow. 

“I want to hear you saying my name,” William says. “I want to hear you moaning for me, babe. Let me hear them, give me something to remember you by when we’re done.”

He thrusts sharply into your g-spot and tugs your hair at the same time.

“Oh my God, William,” you exclaim, the words reverberating in your own head. 

“That’s it, be loud for me,” he encourages. He’s using his leverage with your hair to create a new angle, one where he’s hitting that spot every time and he can reach around to rub your clit. Is multitasking a part of athletics, too? It has to be with the way each of his movements– the tugging, the thrusting, the circling– is as defined as it would be if it was the only thing he were doing. “I’m getting close, where do you want me to come? All over your back? On these pretty cheeks? Or should I fuck your dripping cunt until you’re full of my cum?”

“Inside, inside,” you tell him, scrambling for purchase. You worry that if you don’t tell him quickly and enthusiastically that you want him inside when he comes, he’ll pull away before you can join him and you are very close to joining him.

His fingers rub your clit at a rapid, impossible pace. He keeps you held up with your hair, roots taut and aching. His cock drives you down, fucking you so hard it’s like he can create a hole in the mattress in the shape of your body, and when he leans down to smear a kiss on your neck it’s all over for you.

You fall apart in a shudder, disintegrating entirely and reforming as something new. 

William is not far behind. “Skit,” he mumbles with an accent you can’t define. “Helvete, oh–”

You feel his cum spurting into your heat, mixing with your wet juices. William fucks you through his orgasm, rhythm unsteady and self-indulgent. The sound made by your bodies slapping together echoes through the room, harmonizing with your little whimpers and the words that William is muttering under his breath.

One hour. That’s how long you’ve known William. You’d like to know him for many more.

[taintandviolent]

Ache ; Roman Godfrey x secretary!Reader

summary: [PART TWO TO THIS FIC!] It's only been a week and a half since secretary!reader and Roman's little interaction in his office, but he's pretending like nothing happened. When reader decides to have a night out, Roman's jealousy gets the best of him and he intervenes.

word count & w a r n i n g s: 4.3K | themes of jealousy and possessiveness, mentions of alcohol, Roman kind of being aggressive for no reason, blood kink, blood consumption, cunnilingus (female receiving), unprotected sex, rough sex, finger sucking, mind control.

a/n: idea/requested by @xxbimbobunnyxx! thank you so much for having thoughts and letting me indulge in my sicko thoughts about this tall Swedish man, baby!! i hope you love this! not really beta-read, as per usual. forgive me. divider by @/strangergraphics!!

full fic under cut! ↓ / ao3 link here! / I don’t have a taglist, but please turn on post notifications if you’d like to be notified of future fics!

It had been a week and a half but it had felt like an eternity to you, if you were being truthful with yourself. Business ran as normal; your menial tasks and appointment setting resumed. Roman looked at you the same way he always did, unnervingly, hungrily, with his lips pursed forward and wide eyes following you as you walked past, but he hadn't mentioned it. In fact, it was as though it had never happened at all. There were no secretive touches, no lingering smirks... he'd hardly called you into his office, in fact. Aside from work-related topics, he was all but ignoring you. 

He'd told you not to mention it to anyone, but you thought there would be something, some semblance of recognition in his eyes when your gazes met. If there was, it was masked by his own impassive aloofness. You were frustrated in every way, but most of all sexually. Your nights at home were spent furiously masterbating in your bathtub or your bed, sometimes with a vibrator, sometimes without, trying to reach the same level of orgasm that you had with Roman. Each attempt was futile, and ultimately, a failure. On Friday night after work, you'd decided to go to one of the few bars in town, in hopes that some alcohol would untangle the mess of wires that your nervous system had become.

Still dressed in your silk blouse, tight pencil skirt and heels, it didn't take you long to attract the attention of a guy. You were truthfully thankful for the flirting, and your willingness to chat with him inadvertently turned into a date. He'd bought your first drink, while he nursed his second casually as the conversation naturally progressed. His name was Jacob, he had lived in Hemlock Grove all his life, had a daughter, and worked at the Fire Station. He was handsome, certainly enough to hold a conversation with. He was sweet, you could tell. His fingers brushed against yours delicately as he reached for his glass, sending a shiver up your spine. The way his soft smile curled up on one side, his soft, chocolate button eyes watched you as you spoke... 

With a polite smile, you answered his latest question, bouncing one of your patent leather high heels off the tip of your toe. "Oh, I work at the Godfrey Institute." 

"Wow." He said, impressed. "The Institute? What's that like?" His expression was one of genuine curiosity, which, to you, was normal. Most people wondered about the massive, ominous structure that overlooked their town. You could hardly blame him, you'd been one of them prior to working there.

You blinked. What was work like? Without warning, your mind's eye was flushed with red and you could almost taste him on your tongue. Roman fucking you over his desk, mercilessly, while the blood dribbled onto your naked body. You thought about the way his cock felt as it pushed into you, the swollen, red tip parting your slick folds. You thought about his hands as they explored you, flesh tasting flesh hungrily and the way that he slipped his long fingers into your mouth, forcing you to suck them, to drink someone else's blood. 

"That bad, huh?" 

"What?" You blinked again.

"That was way too long of a pause. It's that bad?" 

"No! No," you stammered, taking another sip of your drink. "It's not bad at all. It pays well. Good benefits. My boss can just be... a lot to handle." 

You had to control your smirk; you handled him just fine. Fighting your own expression, you brought the tiny straw to your mouth and sucked down some liquid. 

"Aren't all bosses a lot to handle?" 

"Yeah," you nodded. "But Mr. Godfrey is... different." 

"Well," he murmured, leaning in closer to you. "He better not be mistreating you. You're too pretty for that." 

A demure, gracious smile crossed your lips as he leaned into you, nudging you with his shoulder. It was playful, but held intention, you could feel it. You took another sip of your drink, staring coyly at the ice cubes.

That was when you felt it; the inviting haze. It held a promise of a command, something you'd be compelled to do. Which, at that point, could be anything. Your cunt immediately responded to the familiar sensation, desperate for his attention again. She clenched and you shuddered violently, gasping aloud.

"You okay?" Concern laced his voice.

"Yes, yes, sorry." 

Jacob took a swig of his own drink, grinning into it as he did. He thought the reaction was from him, and it gave him a boost of confidence to slip his arm around your hips and pull you close to him. 

"I think you're the prettiest woman I've ever seen..." Jacob spoke into the shell of your ear, whispering sweetly. Another shiver erupted at the base of your neck and travelled downwards. His breath was hot, and smelled invitingly like whiskey. For a fleeting moment, you thought about turning your head, brushing your lips against his soft ones. After a week of nothing but iciness, it would’ve been so nice to feel someone against you, wanting you, craving you.  

That was until the overwhelming urge to turn around took control of your body, akin to the sensation of feeling someone's eyes on you. Your skin prickled. Panicking, you pivoted your body and searched the faces in the bar, flitting from one to another. None of them were the face you were looking for, none of them held the gaze that you felt.

You spun around to the other side, your hair whipping around your shoulder. Though smoke clouded the bar, you could see him clear as day. He stood at the other end of the bar, elbows propped up on the edge, a scotch glass loosely dangling from his hand. His green eyes seemed to cut through the haze, locking onto you in a troubling grip. He didn't look happy - he looked the way he did before he yelled at someone at the Institute, his chest heaving with drawn out, frustrated breaths.

Masking your nerves, you turned back to your drink, pinched the straw between your thumb and forefinger and flung it behind you, bringing the rim of the glass to your lips. The rest of the liquid flowed down your throat, stinging as it went. It provided no relief to the tightness in your stomach, unfortunately. 

"Woah, hey, what's the deal? You okay?" Jacob asked, his hand on your forearm.

"I..." You turned around again, expecting to be caught in Roman's gaze again... but he was gone. That was somehow more unsettling. 

"Y/N…" 

"Woah, shit. Where'd you come from?" Jacob jumped, his knee bumping into yours.

Your head turned slowly at the sound of his voice. He stood behind Jacob, a polite smile spread across his full lips. To someone who didn't know him, it would be a convincing one. To you, it wasn't. You'd seen him smile condescendingly at someone before ripping into them too many times. There was malice behind it and his eyes confirmed it.

The reaction that your body had to him was embarrassing and honestly unwarranted. It wasn't like you hadn't seen him in a week and a half; you saw him mere hours ago, but his attention hadn't been on you in the way it was now. Your cheeks flushed, your cunt throbbed in your underwear, desperate to feel him again. 

"Sorry for interrupting." 

Still obviously put off by his sudden appearance, Jacob nodded slowly. "It's... fine..." 

"Jacob," you started, flashing a bright, albeit fake smile. "This is my boss... Mr. Godfrey." 

Being the obvious gentleman that he was, Jacob stuck his hand out first. It seemed Roman was completely content with tightening his smile and giving the man a nod but after a few painful moments, he finally shook the man's hand. 

"Unfortunately, I have to steal her. Very pressing matter at the Institute." Roman’s long fingers wrapped around your bicep, enveloping it. His steel grip hurt, but you didn’t dare say anything. 

"Now, wait a minute." Jacob interjected, standing up from the stool. 

"Get lost." Roman hissed, stepping forward slightly. "Now."

And just like that, Jacob got up from his seat, put a twenty on the bar and walked towards the door. Feeling the warm stream flowing from his nostril, Roman wiped his nose, the blood collecting on the back of his hand. You stared, dumbfounded. Had Jacob really given up that easily? Or was there something to Roman Godfrey that you hadn't considered? You looked from the door back to your boss, who god – really towered over you.

"What did I say?" Roman asked, sternly. 

"Nothing about that." You retorted, shaking your head, your confidence wavering. Though nothing had been exchanged about that, you knew what he meant.

"I told you to..." 

"No," you corrected, cutting him off. "You told me not to tell anyone about what we did. I haven't." 

"Maybe you need a reminder." 

You thought about retorting with something smart, but Roman took a step closer to you, holding his hand up to your face. The smell of iron hit your nose. Instinctively, your tongue flicked out, lapping at the small streak of blood on the back of his hand. As before, the taste of it made you want to gag, but it aroused you all the same. 

"Mr. Godfrey," You cooed, looking up at him with doe eyes. "Am I not allowed to enjoy myself on my own time?" 

Roman raised his brows, as if to ask if you'd been enjoying yourself. You had been... to a degree. Despite Jacob being nice, you knew that fucking him wouldn't be the same as fucking Roman. It wouldn’t satiate the hunger that pulsed deep within your pussy, he wouldn’t fuck you the same way. That was all he needed; he laughed through his nose. He stiffened above you, somehow elongating even more.

"Your cunt is aching for me, I can smell it." 

Fuck. The humiliation had you wanting to whine and throw your body against his, wrapping your arms around his neck like you had a week ago. Writhing, you pressed your thighs together tightly. Roman’s eyes flitted down, watching as you rubbed them together pathetically, desperately trying to alleviate the throbbing sensation.

“What am I supposed to be reminded of? As though I’ve stopped thinking about it.”

“Oh, really?” 

You rolled your lips inward and bit down, closing your eyes. He hadn’t even asked you to say that, you’d just done it on your accord. The drink you’d had must’ve been working – at what, you weren’t sure. Humiliating yourself? You took a breath, pacifying yourself. 

“Remember what I said about not firing you?” He asked, his voice low.

“What? I’m fired?” 

He laughed breathily, rolling his eyes away from you, then back. “No. But if you keep fucking around, I might reconsider.” 

“Fucking around?” You asked, shocked, pain darkening your gaze. “I had a drink with a guy! I wasn’t aware that it was off-limits.” 

“You’re my personal assistant, remember me saying that? I need you available whenever the fuck I want you available. Not fucking some random guy in a bar.” 

Your pussy twinged with heat and the tugging sensation in your stomach worsened. Though he hadn’t said it, his motivations were obvious; he was jealous and he wanted you available for him at all times. Though somewhere, you were sure that you should feel disrespected, you couldn’t find it in yourself to acknowledge it. There was a workplace violation here somewhere. Your tongue darted out, running along your bottom lip teasingly.

Suddenly, you said: “Fine, then. I’m going home.” Partially, it was a test. The thrill of the chase. 

“Probably a good idea.” He flashed his brows at you, almost expectantly.

You turned on your heels, allowing your hand to drift behind you just enough to graze Roman’s swelling cock through his perfectly pleated dress pants. You heard him inhale a breath through his teeth, but he didn’t follow you. As you pushed through the door, he was still standing by the bar, watching you. 

Outside, the cold night air bit at your cheeks, but you were in the car before the frigidness penetrated too deeply. You tossed your purse onto the passenger seat, retrieved your keys from it, and started the engine. Leave it to him to frustrate you, yet again. Now, not only were you unimaginably horny, but you were unable to get your kicks with anyone else, because God forbid Roman needed something. Fine, if he wanted to play, you’d play. Tomorrow, you devised, you’d be as aloof as he was. Your mood would be a mirror, reflecting whatever his was.

Unbeknownst to you, the cherry-red Jaguar pulled out behind you moments later, gravel crunching underneath the tires. You huffed and reached for the stereo knob, turning it halfway. Music filled the car with a peppy and happy beat – something that didn’t match your mood at all.

As you drove, your peripheral was filled with blackness. Hemlock Grove was dark at night. Really dark. The woods that surrounded the town seemed to go on forever, trees looming up around you like soldiers that guarded the population. Then, there was the issue of the wolves… 

You looked in the rearview mirror and squinted, blinded by the headlights of a car – but not just any car. You recognized that car anywhere, having seen it parked at the Institute every day. He was following you awfully close, probably making sure you weren’t trying to lose him. That was the last thing on your mind. In fact, you were silently praying that he followed you all the way home… but, just to test him, you eased your foot into the gas pedal, watching as the speedometer crept higher. For as masterfully as you handled the roads, Roman handled them better. His headlights never left your mirrors. 

As you pulled into the driveway of your modest little house, you switched off the music and killed the engine. You glanced at the rearview mirror again, delighted to find that Roman was blocking you in. Though your address was on your resume, he now had a visual of where you lived, and knew how to get there whenever he wanted. You shivered excitedly at the thought. With a smirk slicing your features, you walked around to the back of your car, hands on your hip. Roman was getting out of his car, elongating. “What do you think you’re doing?”

He didn’t answer. Instead, he closed in the distance between the two of you, and his hands gripped your waist tightly, fingers jabbing into the soft flesh. Roughly turning you around, Roman pinned your hips between his and the trunk of your car. Invading your personal space, he urged his back against yours, forcing you downwards. 

“Jesus Christ, are you insane? My neighbours will see.” 

His expression darkened, as if he was considering doing it anyway. Planting your hands on the trunk, you pushed your back against his chest again but behind you, it was as though he was made of iron. Didn’t move, not even a little bit. Your breath hitched in your throat, feeling suddenly overwhelmed. Fighting against him, you grunted. What was he doing?

“Stop it,” you pleaded, trying to press yourself upwards. “W-we can’t do this out here.” 

As if Mother Nature herself wanted to thwart his attempts, the clouds that had loomed, obscuring the moon all night, finally decided to dump. The deluge drenched both of you within seconds, thunder rumbling above. You twisted your body to glance behind you. His perfectly arranged hair was now mussed; dark, dripping strands hanging in front of his forehead. He was staring pointedly at you, burning holes into your skin.

Finally, Roman conceded to your worries – or maybe just didn’t want to get any wetter – and shoved himself off you with an angry, annoyed huff. With a jerk of his head, he encouraged you to move. He followed you up the small pathway, and you’d hardly put the key in the slot before you felt Roman’s body pressing into yours, forcing you inside. You dropped your bag on the small bench by the door, and turned to the looming figure behind you. 

“Why are you being so…” your voice trailed off, partially afraid to vocalize what you were going to ask him. 

He didn’t answer, again, and instead, his lips found yours, his tongue slipping in past your teeth. He tasted like scotch; warm and seductive. While still kissing you – gentler than he’d ever been – walked you backwards. You were more than happy to blindly let you guide him off a cliff at this point. Abruptly, Roman’s hands met your chest, shoving you hard back against the sofa. It almost punched the breath from your lungs, but you steadied yourself, looking up at him. 

“What is your problem?” You furrowed your brows. “Are you really that upset with me? You never told me that I couldn’t have a drink with a guy.”

“Do you not listen? I said I need you available whenever the fuck I want. For whatever the fuck I want.” 

Roman kicked your feet apart, the spikes of your heels catching on the fibres of the sheepskin rug below you. Slotting himself in between your thighs, Roman got to his knees, his hands cupping your kneecaps. He harshly pulled your legs apart, the fabric of your skirt gathering at your hips as he did. You were exposed to him, the thin strip of your underwear barely covering you. The smoothness of his chin ghosted along your thigh, his lips grazing the flesh just before he reaches where you want him. It takes everything in your power not to push him between your legs, onto your aching cunt, but somehow, you resisted the urge, and dug your nails into the sofa cushions instead. 

He bent his head down, tongue stretching out over his lips and immediately, you felt the hot rush of his breath wash over you, your stomach clenching tightly in anticipation. As the tip of his tongue delved between your folds, you jerked against the soft fabric of your sofa. Your back arched, pressing against the resistance of the cushions. With his mouth still attached to your clit, his bright green eyes flitted to you, brows lifting on his forehead. Long arms unfolded from your legs, reaching up to your breasts like two shadows. His hands cupped them outside of your satin blouse, attempting to thumb your nipple through the layers but quickly decided that it wasn’t good enough. With a quick flash of movement, Roman had ripped your blouse apart for the second time. You bit back a yelp.

As he rolled your nipples between his fingers, pinching them here and there, his eyes drank you in, watching as the shifting shadow pattern of the leaves danced across your bare skin. The storm raged on outside as Roman devoured your insides like one of the supposed wolves in the woods. His tongue flicked quickly at her before he paused to lick a long stripe from your entrance upwards, lingering to drive the tip into your clit. God. The buzzing contact made you scream and writhe and cry. He growled into her as you cried out, never relenting. With pathetic, slutty moans punctuating his every move, you rolled your head back against the sofa, letting your eyes drift shut. Every time he made contact with her, kitten licking and teasing you with intention, you whined. While his tongue stayed busy, one of Roman’s hands drifted away from your hardened nipple, and slithered back down until it found your wet entrance, prodding the slit curiously. Your body convulsed, a desperate whimper falling from your lips. He was going to fuck you. No, he was going to overstimulate you.

He sank his fingers all the way in, to the knuckle, and began pumping his wrist back and forth. Two fingers opened inside you, stretching you out before curling up to hit the sensitive, spongy flesh deep within you. Your nails scraped along the fibres of the sofa cushion, flailing for something to grip onto.

“Oh my fucking god… Oh my god.” Involuntarily, your hips began rolling with his motions, driving his fingers in deeper to you with every thrust. 

“Good girl,” Roman muttered, the humming vibrations sending a shockwave through your core.That cold voice with the slight lilt of an accent you couldn’t place – it did something to you. The first warning clench. Oh no. Your pupils dilated at the feeling, your breath quickened. He was going to make you cum, possibly faster than you ever had in your life. You couldn’t remember how many times you’d tried to make yourself orgasm in the past week, but he somehow managed to do it within minutes. 

“Fuckfuckfuck, oh my god, I’m gonna’...” 

Your breath catches in your throat. And just like that, the sensations were gone. You stammered out some words of displeasure, lifting your head to look up at him. Roman stuck both his glistening fingers in his mouth, suckling them like a greedy child. Your legs were still quivering when he took hold of them, pulling you closer to the edge of the sofa. “Did I say you could cum?” 

You panted, feeling frustrated. Your body screamed in agony over the lack of stimulation, and every time you clenched, you felt the hot burn of an orgasm denied. 

“Did I?” 

“N-no…” 

You collapse against the sofa, shuddering. Agony. Nothing but agony. This entire week had been nothing but an edge-fest, and there he was, edging you some more. You felt your expression contort into a frown, tears welling at the corners of your eyes. The sound of his belt buckle brought you back, snapping to attention. You looked down between your legs just in time to see Roman pull his stiff cock free, a bead of precum leaking from the slit. The tip was blushing, and looked hot to the touch. You squeezed your thighs together, sandwiching the head into the pillowy flesh of your thighs – it was.  

. 

Roman didn’t give you any time to prepare. Once the tip breached your slit, he sank in until your torsos touched. You gasped, leaning forward in slight discomfort. He paused for a moment, letting your body adjust to the girth.

“So fuckin’ tight.”

He began thrusting, quickly. Repeatedly impaling you with his cock, moving his hips back and forth in half circles, Roman’s movements were controlled, hitting you in a spot that made you cry out with each thrust. You suddenly rasped his name, disrupting his rhythm. It was the first time that you’d called him Roman as opposed to Mr. Godfrey, and the intimacy of the gesture had his cock throbbing within your slick pussy.  He leaned forward, clenching his teeth. 

“You’re mine, you fucking know that?” His lips moved against your ear as he spoke, sending a violent chill down your spine.

Between laboured pants, you nodded weakly. He did it so well. He did everything so well – without trying – and it had you in pieces. You couldn’t take it back, the feelings that had been roiling inside your system for weeks had been confirmed. Now he knew it, because you acknowledged it. No going back.

“That’s right.” Roman leaned into you, pressing his cock further into you, grinding down into you until you saw stars. As he chased his orgasm, fucking you hard against the sofa cushions, the head of his cock relentlessly pounded your insides – hammered into a part of you that ached. You held onto his shoulders, pressing yourself up against him just to feel the warmth of his skin against your own. Roman pulled you up further, his long arms winding around your back with ease. His cock slipped out from inside you, bobbing against the inside of your thighs, smearing a mixture of arousals on the hot flesh. After a little bit of rearranging, he hoisted you up into his arms and sat down on the sofa, lowering you back down onto his length slowly. 

As the muscle clenched around his cock, Roman let out a deep grunt, inhaling through his teeth. The feeling of being so full overtook your systems. You were blanking, unable to speak and barely able to think over the heavy thudding of your own pulse. Roman’s hand finds your neck, gripping it softly. Your pulse hammers against his fingers, and groaning, he bucked his hips up into you just a little bit harder.

“Fuck – I…”

“What? Talk. Use your mouth, or I’ll use it for you.”

With a devilish smirk, you almost considered stuttering again, just to see what he’d do. You moaned. “Feels– feels so good. I wanna’ cum.” 

“Yeah? Gonna’ cum all over that cock, you little whore?” 

You nodded, using your leg muscles to bounce faster atop his cock. Every time the tip hit your cervix, you winced,  but it was an ache that you’d been craving for almost weeks. Gasping, you threw your head back, running your hands up your torso. The skin was feverish, your whole body was on fire, it felt like every inch of exposed skin was engulfed at that point. Roman’s hands clamped onto your hips, lifting you up off his cock slightly. Mouth hanging slack, eyes lust blown, he began thrusting up into your sopping cunt. Faster and harder and over and over and again and again, until you came, screaming into his shoulder. 

His own orgasm came shortly after, coating your insides with his blisteringly hot seed. He kept thrusting until your clenching stopped, and the white oozed from your cunt. With a whimper, you rolled off his lap and collapsed into the crook of the sofa. Your chest heaved, sweat dripping down from every place it could.

Roman lifted his hips up to pull his trousers back up, tucking his softening cock into his briefs. He ran a hand through his hair before pushing himself up off the sofa, heading straight for the door. You straightened up, bringing a pillow to your stomach.

“Where are you going?” 

Coldly, he said: “I’ll see you tomorrow. Wear a dress.”

The door shut behind him. Tomorrow was Saturday. What did he mean by that? What was his fucking problem? God, you loved it.

[PART THREE HERE]

[belli5]

⌗ . ᵎᵎ ⸝⸝ Boyfriend headcanons .ᐟ ೀ W.E⁷²

Simply William boyfriend headcanons

˚₊· ᥫ᭡ William Eklund x fem!reader ➜ fluff note: I should be studying for my math exam instead, but…. masterlist

❀ He’s the kind of boyfriend who always looks at you like you’ve hung the moon. Soft eyes, tiny smile, full heart.

❀ Constantly calls you sweet pet names like “babe,” “baby,” and his personal favorite—“älskling”

❀ Likes quiet nights in more than loud nights out. Think cuddling on the couch, wearing his oversized Sharks hoodie, watching something cozy.

❀ Loves forehead kisses. He’ll lean down and just rest his lips there for a second like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

❀ Super into holding hands—interlocked fingers, thumb rubbing yours absentmindedly.

❀ Will pull you close when you’re out together, especially if it’s chilly. You’ll be zipped into his jacket or tucked under his arm in seconds.

❀ Sends the most random but endearing texts like: “I miss your face 🥹”

❀ “O saw a dog today that looked like you when you’re sleepy”

❀ “you left your sock.”

❀ Responds with voice notes when he’s too lazy to type, and half the time they’re just giggles and him saying “babe” ten different ways.

❀ Not a master chef, but he tries. Will make you pancakes and accidentally flip one onto the floor, then pretend it never happened.

❀ Loves when you sit on the kitchen counter while he makes coffee, and he always hands you the first sip of his.

❀ Wears an apron that says “Kiss the Cook” just so you’ll actually do it.

❀ Wakes up with bedhead and sleepy eyes, but won’t let you get up right away—he needs “just five more minutes” of snuggling.

❀ Buries his face in the crook of your neck and just hums. Bonus: it tickles, and he laughs when you squirm.

❀ Plays with your hair when you’re both lying down, not even consciously—just a soothing habit he’s picked up.

❀ You’re his good luck charm, and he has to kiss you before every game. Even if you’re in different cities, he’ll call you just to say, “okay, now you have to kiss the phone.”

❀ After wins, he’ll look for you in the crowd first. Big smile, eyes scanning until they land on you, then he grins like he’s still scoring.

❀ After losses, he’s quiet at first but wants to be around you. You’ll end up curled on the couch with his head in your lap while you play with his hair.

❀ Loves to tease you in the gentlest way, he’ll mimic your laugh or dramatic expressions, but with total adoration.

❀ Always remembers the small things: your favourite snacks, how you like your tea, that you hate cold feet (so he warms your socks in the dryer).

❀ Has a secret playlist of songs that remind him of you. It’s full of soft indie tracks and Swedish love ballads.

[gaybd1]

Here’s a list of some false anglicisms!

A false anglicism, or pseudo-anglicism is a word in a language that sounds English but doesn’t actually carry the same meaning in English.

Wikipedia has a very very good list of examples; pretty much all of these come from there

In multiple languages:

autostop: hitchhiking (French, Italian, Polish, Serbo-Croatian, Greek, Russian, Spanish, Bulgarian, Hungarian)

basket: basketball (Danish, French, Indonesian, Italian, Spanish, Swedish, Greek)

camping: campsite or campground (French, Dutch, Greek, Bulgarian, Russian, Polish, Portuguese, Spanish)

smoking: dinner jacket, tuxedo, or smoking jacket (Danish, French, Portuguese, German, Italian, Dutch, Greek, Russian)

Korean

one shot: bottoms up (원샷)

hand phone: cellphone (핸드폰)

skinship: platonic hand-holding, hugging, etc. (스킨십)

French

baby-foot: table football

baby-parc: playpen

before: drinks before a party/"pregame" (opposite of after)

blind test: music quiz / 'name that tune'

brushing: blow-dry and styling

box: wifi router or parking space

dancing: dance hall

footing: jogging (though the real English word is also used in French with the same meaning)

pressing: dry cleaning shop

recordman/recordmans/recordwoman: record holder, especially in sports (also in Russian)

relooker/relooking: to makeover/a makeover

speaker/speakerine: rradio or television announcer

Italian

autogrill: rest area

beauty farm: spa

jolly: the joker in a pack of cards

pullman: a bus

smart working: remote work

water: toilet

Portuguese

outdoor: billboard

home office: work from home

Danish

butterfly: bow tie

cottoncoat: trench coat

doorstep: a short and informal press conference

monkeyclass: economy class

speedmarker: a felt-tip pen

timemanager – a calendar or notebook in which one writes down appointments

Dutch:

beamer: a video projector (also in German)

box: a playpen or a music speaker

videoclip: a music video

German

Bodybag: a messenger bag

Dressman: a male model

Flipper: a pinball machine

Funsport: a sport played for amusement, such as skateboarding or frisbee

Handy: a mobile phone

Jobticket: a free pass for public transport provided by an employer for employees

mobbing: bullying

Swedish:

after work: a meeting for drinks after the workday is finished

pocket: A paper-back book

[reminiscingtonight]

The Thing About Families (Arsenal Style)

Alessia Russo & Russo!reader (Lia Wälti x Russo!reader)

Word Count: 1.5k

A/N: A Russo sisters + Lia ft. Kyra story that wrote itself after that picture came out

[The Thing About Families Masterlist]

“I need your help.”

Growing up as the oldest kid in the family meant you’ve heard this line quite a lot. For your brothers it usually meant helping them sneak out of the house or cover for them as they did god knows what, but for Alessia it usually meant one of two things: organize her laundry or organize her life.

Given that you’ve done all the washing and have neatly stacked her already folded clothes on the edge of her bed, you have a sinking suspicion that this ask has more to do with the latter.

“Rat. What’s up?”

Alessia frowns at the nickname, an insult perched at the end of her tongue. But she seems to think better of it, batting her eyelashes in hopes of seeming more innocent as she latches onto your arm. 

You’re not amused, instantly trying, but failing, to shake her off. “Less, let go!”

“I need your help,” she whines again, digging her heels into the ground. 

You try wrapping your arm around her neck to pull her into a headlock, but the height difference between the two of you means Alessia has no trouble heaving you over her shoulder and onto the couch behind her. You let out a disgruntled yelp, trying to wrestle her for dominance. Alessia simply sits on top of you, hands locking your arms across your own body. 

“Alessia Russo I swear to god, get off!”

“Your baby sister is trying to ask for a favor! Will you just,” she huffs, pinching your side when you try to buck her off of you, “calm down! Just hear me out!”

“I’m kicking you out before Lia gets home. Off!”

How your mom talked you into housing your sister when she moved to Arsenal, you will never know. Lia jumped at the opportunity to help her out, but since she isn’t home right now…

Alessia cringes a bit at your girlfriend’s name and you instantly stop moving. Your eyes narrow dangerously. “What?”

Family is important to you. There’s nothing you wouldn’t do for Alessia, but there’s also nothing you wouldn’t do for Lia too. You haven’t ever had to make a choice between the two of them, but if you’re going to have to you’re not sure if sisterly love will be enough against how much you love Lia.

“If you don’t tell me what your problem is I will actually kick you out. Talk.”

It only takes two seconds under your glare for Alessia to break. “Kyra won’t stop bugging me!” 

For a second you’re taken back to your childhood, a tiny Alessia sat in your lap, saying the same exact thing about Gio. You had given her a comforting pat on the head and then socked Gio as hard as you could in the arm. But now that you’re in your thirties, you don’t think punching Kyra would be taken as well, by your girlfriend or the other Aussies on the team.

“That sounds like a you problem.” 

And Kyra’s hilarious, you’ll give her that. The younger girl had instantly taken a liking to your sister since the day she arrived. And by liking of course you mean a liking to bothering Alessia. 

But as long as the young Australian keeps bothering Alessia and not you, you don’t really see a problem with her behavior.

Call it karma for everything Alessia has put you through growing up.

“And I love Lia, you know that.”

Your lips pinch into a thin line. “I don’t think I’m liking where this is going. If you’re about to be rude about my girlfriend--”

“Lia needs to stop babying Kyra! Sometimes I just need some peace and quiet at the Colney, and I can’t do that if Kyra keeps bothering me and Lia keeps letting her get away with it!”

Right. That.

It’s not like you haven’t missed it. 

Any time Kyra’s running wild your girlfriend can be found nearby, always quick to soothe any ruffled feathers from the Australian’s adventures. At first Steph was set on Kyra duties, but when it became clear that anyone outside of her chosen Australian/Swedish family were ill-equipped to handle her, Lia was quick to step in. 

You’re not sure what it was that drew Kyra to your girlfriend but Kyra lived for the praise and affection Lia gave her and Lia lived for the adoration from Kyra.

So yeah, it’s cute the way Lia has taken the young girl under her wing. If anything it just makes you want to ask her to marry you and start a family faster.

“Don’t be jealous, rat. If you want Lia to baby you again you can just say so.”

Alessia’s too busy scoffing and objecting to your claim that she’s not expecting it when you dump her off of you and right onto the ground.

---

It only takes a week.

It starts when Lia cancels date night. Kyra’s feeling a bit homesick so Lia invites her for a movie marathon at your place. Of course you’re a little bummed, but it’s not something you can’t reschedule so you just let it go. You find Lia and Kyra teasing each other throughout the night cute enough to replace any hard feelings. 

The next strike comes when you have Lia pinned under you in bed, the two of you making use of an Alessia-less house for the night. Alessia had gone out with Vic for the night, telling you with a wink that she would be catching a ride from the Dutch to practice the next day. Your clothes had gone flying off the second you got home from dinner, but before you could really go down to business you hear the unmistakable sound of your doorbell going off. You pause, lips stilling upon Lia’s neck. 

“Maybe if we don’t do anything they’ll go away.”

The doorbell ringing again has you sighing as Lia gently pushes at your shoulders. “Babe, off,” Lia laughs. She gives you a kiss on her way out but she does in fact leave you in bed to see who’s come to visit so late at night.

You’re off daydreaming about what you’re going to get up to when Lia returns when you hear the unmistakable sound of an Australian accent coming from the living room. 

The pillow isn’t enough to muffle your cry of frustration into it. 

You’re already sighing and throwing on a hoodie when Lia pops her head in, apologetic look on her face.

“Do you want to pop the popcorn or me?”

The last straw occurs when you wake up in the middle of the night a couple days later. You’re not really sure what’s woken you up, but you do find yourself at the edge of the bed. There’s barely a sliver of blanket covering you, but Lia’s warm body wrapped around your back gives you all the heat you need.

Humming, you shift as softly as you can so to not jostle your girlfriend. The original plan is to gently shift the two of you back towards the center of the bed, but when you reach over Lia to make the transition easier, your hand hits the undeniable form of a third body. 

You freeze. 

Hazily opening an eye, you raise your head to look at the other side of the bed. Next to you is Lia, like you expected. What you don’t expect is the snoring Australian sprawled out over Lia's half of the bed.

You have to bite back your groan.

You let out a disgruntled grunt when you settle back onto the tiny piece of the mattress left to you. 

You’re not sure how long you lay there awake and thinking through the best way to go about ridding yourself of the new girl in your bed when a sleepy hand comes up to pat at your cheek. 

“Why are you brooding?”

Although you’re a bit grumpy, the sound of Lia still half asleep brings a smile to your face. 

But when you hear a snort, gurgle, and then snore from the other side of your girlfriend, the look is quick to fall off your face.

“What is she doing here?”

Lia frowns, sleepily rubbing at her eyes. She reads your pout easily. “Kyra was tired.”

“So you let her in our bed? Baby, we have a couch. A very comfy couch.”

Lia raises an eyebrow at you.

After spending the next night sleeping on said couch you come to two conclusions. First, the couch is not as comfortable as you initially thought. Second, Alessia was right.

You corner your sister at training the next day. She looks surprised but follows you when you pull her into a storage closet.

“Okay, how do you want to do it? Should we kidnap and ship her back to Australia?”

Alessia grins, not even needing you to say anything further. “Nah, we can keep her local. I think it’s time the other Aussies get custody, don’t ya think?”

[babyfrogz]

Fundraisers for Gaza

The following are all people who have reached out to me to share their stories and their campaigns. Please, if you can spare anything, any of them could really use your support.

Asmaa Ayyad @asmaayyad - Asmaa is hoping to help her family of eight escape Gaza and has been verified. They’re currently at €11,034/€45,000 and the GFM can be found here.

Mohammed Hussein Ismaeel @m8hammed - Mohammed has already had his blog deleted by staff once, but remains persistent in helping his family evacuate to Egypt. His campaign was verified by ibtisams before they deleted and is currently at €9,666/€25,000.

Bshaer, Ayla & Family @bshaeromars-blog - Bshaer was newly married when the genocide began and has lost her husband, who her newborn daughter never got to meet. Reem, a family member, is sharing her mother's words in their GFM Campaign -- please don't assume it's a scam because of the different names, their campaign has been vetted and can be found on line #231 on el-shab-hussein's list of verified fundraisers. $14,811/$40,000

Ahmed AbuOmar @ahmedabuomar - Ahmed is trying to evacuate himself, his wife, and his three young boys. His campaign has been verified here and is at €2,444/€30,000, less than 1/10th of the way to the amount needed.

Abd Alhadi Aburas @abdalhadiaburas - Abd is asking for help getting basic necessities as well as rebuilding a better future for himself and his family. His GFM has been verified and is only at $3,513/$65,000 CAD.

Imtithal & Family @d-imtthal - Imtithal is raising funds to evacuate her family, mostly young children, from Gaza. Her campaign is new and unvetted as of yet, but the images are original and donations to her GFM are protected, so please don't let that dissuade you from donating. Currently the campaign is at €3,302/€50,000.

Mohiy @mohiy-gaza - This is Mohiy's second account since his first one was deleted, he is raising funds to leave Gaza after much deliberation. He is Wafa's (@/wafaaresh) brother, verified here and by 90-ghost here. The GFM for him is currently at $18,017/$31,000 which is a little over halfway to the goal!

Nour & Family @noorabd1992 - Nour is a family friend of Wafa and Mohi's (check here) and has recently made a Tumblr account seeking help for his family, made up of him, his wife, and his two children, one of whom is a new baby. His GFM is at $8,500/$45,000 and can be found here.

Omar, Jody & Family @omargaze / @jody-family - Omar is another friend of Mohiy's, trying to help his lovely family escape the violence in Gaza. His campaign is verified and is currently at £4,604/£20,000.

Mahmoud Alkhaldi @mahmoud1995 / @mahmoud-1995 (both accounts link to the same GFM)- Mahmoud is trying to evacuate five family members including his wife, his younger brother and his wife, and his little nephew. His campaign was reblogged by 90-ghost and can be found here at $11,611/$50,000.

Mohammad Abujubara @mohammadabujbara - Mohammad is trying to evacuate his family to build them a better future. His campaign has yet to be verified but donations are protected and there is no duplicity in his words or photographs, so please use your discretion and donate if you can. $5,155/$150,000 CAD

Samer Abu Ras @samerpal - Samer's first account was unfairly deleted, but he remains persistent in helping his family, which consists of his wife and his three kids. His campaign is #196 on the list of verified fundraisers. Please note that $1 USD is about kr10 (ten Swedish krona) and his campaign is at 122,649/450,000 SEK.

Thaer Qanoo @savethaerfamily - Thaer is trying to evacuate with his wife and small daughter to Egypt. His account and campaign are new but have been shared by @/mohammedalanqer, currently at only $67/$20,000 - let's give him a warm welcome!

Ahmed Al-Sir & Lubna Al-Shami @ahmadelser / @lobnaalser - Lubna and Ahmed are trying to flee Gaza with their three sons. Their campaign has been verified by 90-ghost and can be found here at only €1,711/€50,000.

Ezz El-Din Salem @ezzaldeens-blog - Ezz is seeking refuge for seven family members, currently all living in a single tent. The campaign is verified and is at only €224/€20,000.

Lina @lina-gaza - Lina is a mother of two children, one of whom was born by C-section during the violence. She hopes to evacuate them and her husband to Egypt. The GFM is being run by her husband's cousin, it is verified and currently has €35,004/€45,000 - less than €10,000 to go!

Sara Hussein @sara-97a - Sara has three young children and is looking after her mother, who suffered a stroke recently. Her GFM and account are new but the images don't appear anywhere else and donations are, again, protected. €517/€50,000

Shaima & Ibrahim Al-Sir @shaimaasblog - Shaima and her husband dreamed of one day having a child of their own, but tragically lost their unborn child due to the violence. Their campaign is very new but their photographs are unique, please use your discretion and donate. €95/€50,000

Hazem & Nisreen Suhail @hazemsuhail / @nisreensuhail - Hazem and Nisreen are brother and sister trying to evacuate their family of eight to safety in Egypt. They are seeking verification but their photos are unique (you can see Nisreen's instagram dating back to 2015 here) so please don't hesitate to help! Their GFM is at €1,813/€50,000.

Ahmed Ziad @ahmed-ziad - Ahmed hopes to evacuate his family, including his mother, to Egypt so they can live safely. His GFM is verified by nabulsi and is currently at £9,484/£30,000.

Mahmoud Ziad @mahmoud-ziad - Last but not least, Mahmoud. He has had his previous account deleted, but hasn't given up hope to rebuild his life and help his family. His campaign has been verified and can be found here currently at $14,123/$30,000. Today is his birthday - I've donated to him and his family and encourage you to do the same, even though he deserves a much better gift.

Choose a campaign and donate if you can, otherwise please share this post so they can reach safety with their families.

[inkdrinkerworld]

Love the idea of calling dick ‘bluebird’ in front of his family when you want to see him get flustered <33

Omg omg omg!!!!

You’d had a fight before you’d went to Wayne Manor to see his brothers.

Not a big one, but one enough to the point where he was still lingering in upset even though you’d both forgiven each other.

“Leave it,” his voice is gruff as you move to open your door and you smile- at least he’s talking to you now and not simmering.

“Will you please stop being mad?” You mumble, slotting your fingers between his as you walk to the door. Dick sighs, kissing your forehead.

“I’m not mad, baby.” Except he only calls you baby when he he’s upset. The rest of the time you’re, ‘gorgeous,’ or ‘sweetheart,’ and the difference is upsetting.

You just hum, letting him open the door and lead you to the living room where all his brothers are sat.

“Oh trouble in paradise?” Damien asks when you sit beside him and Dick opts for the seat closer to Jason.

Usually you’d be cuddled up right next to each other, being as Damien would phrase it, ‘disgusting and couple-y’ in front of them.

“No,” you say quietly, allowing your mind to run wild a little as you sit beside Damien.

“For what it’s worth, he probably just doesn’t know how to move forward from it as easy as you do.”

You love all of his brothers, but you and Damien had always been the closest so you nod, taking his words for what they are- a comfort.

“Neither do I. But I don’t like fighting.” Damien shrugs and passes you the control for the tv, something that rarely happens because you like watching films in languages none of them can understand.

You’d been plotting how to get Dick to let the argument go all the while half heartedly listening to the Swedish movie playing.

“Brunch is ready.” Alfred calls and you smile.

With a plan in mind, you wait for Dick to put his hand out to you and let him help you up.

“What do you want, sweetheart?” The pet name melts your heart, but he still doesn’t sound right.

“Anything but the strawberries, please baby.” Dick pauses, cheeks flushed a deep red- especially when Jason snickers.

You grin a little at how flustered he gets and Damien only shakes his head. Dick sets about making your fruit bowl for you, skipping on the strawberries.

You kiss his wrist as he sets the bowl down, “Thanks, bluebird.” It’s a little evil, the kiss and the nickname, but you just want him to smile with you again.

Dick sits beside you the same flush as a beetroot and it amuses his brothers. Enough so that Damien fake gags and repeats ‘bluebird’ in a sing-songy voice and Jason mimes a make out.

“I’m trying to be cross with you,” he mutters- affection seeping into each word and you smile.

“And I don’t want you to be, kiss?” He tries to remain stoic and stony but a smile takes over his face when you pucker your lips.

“You’re insufferable.” He presses three kisses against your lips and then starts dishing his own plate.

“You suffer me pretty well, Grayson.” You chew on a cube of melon.

He cuts you a mock glare, “Oh now I’m, ‘Grayson’?”

Jason nods then, chewing on his own fruit, “I thought he was ‘bluebird’?”

Damien can’t resist, “Or even ‘baby’?”

Dick laughs when you glare at both of them, and kisses your temple. “Whatever. Pass me a scone, love?” You say sweetly and he laughs even more.

“That’s better, gorgeous.” Dick passes it to you after he’s cut it open and set some butter and jam in it.