#i really want to but english isn’t my native tongue

[mystic-girls]

MC x Jahee Headcanons (some m rated bc I’m down bad)

- MC actually couldn’t care less about Zen and his musicals, but listening to Jaehee nerd out about him? Pure joy

- When they’re having sex, MC loves to be on the giving end. Jaehee is always overworked like crazy, so MC loves to help her relax in this way and will not have it any other way

- MC is always ready to physically fight Jumin the minute he’s being unfair towards Jaehee. Jumin isn’t fazed by it at all, but Jaehee feels good about having someone standing up for her.

- It might lead to kinky office sex out of spite (MC convinces Jaehee. They end up in a bathroom stall or a supply closet)

- MC likes it when Jaehee gets flustered. They’ll tease her or say provocative things just to see her blush like crazy

Bonus: Zen will take it to his grave, but he definitely has had moments where his imagination ran wild with scenarios of MC x Jaehee. He’s a 110% embarrassed by it, but still finds it hot. So hot

[therealpie02]

To catch a chance

Pairings: mafia!Yunho x fem!reader

Summary: You married a “golden retriever” in the mafia world. The most smiling and polite mafia boss, the most desirable son-in-law among all your friends. But he wasn't looking for intimacy with you. Warm on the outside, cool on the inside. You decided to destroy the barrier standing between you. All you had to do — get down on your knees.

Word count: 2,6k

Genre: smut 18+

Warnings: it’s just a fiction! soft dom!Yunho, best friends to lovers, nickname (princess), oral sex (m receiving), cream pie, fingering, unprotected sex, kind of breeding kink, dirty talk, aftercare, let me know if I missed something!

a/n: friendly reminder English isn’t my native language <3

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"I needed a decent match".

His words echoed in your head. He needed a decent match, not a wife.

Why did he choose you? You've been friends since childhood. Your first marriage was unsuccessful and you got divorced. Almost immediately after your divorce, Yunho married you. You're his wife. But he didn't touch you. As if he was afraid. You slept in the same bed. You kissed once under the crown at the wedding, didn't he want you? Is this marriage doomed to fail too?

It was after midnight, but you couldn't sleep. You dreamed of intimacy with Yunho, of his touch. You got out of bed and, without even bothering to put on a bathrobe, walked out of the bedroom into the dark hallway. At the end of the corridor, a light was streaming from under the door of your husband's office. You knocked and walked right in without waiting for an answer. You'll get everything you want tonight.

One unsuccessful marriage is enough, where the husband did not touch you, because he loved and fucked his maid. It's enough to be ignored by Yunho, your childhood friend and current husband. You loved him. But he?

Yunho was sitting in his chair at the table. His blond hair was tousled, as if he had run his hand through it many times. His jacket and vest were thrown on the sofa, the top two buttons of his white shirt were unbuttoned, and the sleeves were rolled up, exposing strong arms. He didn't bother to take off his gun holster. Yunho was doing business on his laptop, looking tired.

"Is something wrong?" he looked up at you. His voice was hoarse and low, and that made you even more determined to distract him from his work and lure him upstairs to bedroom.

"I just wanted to ask when you're going to bed," you said as calmly as possible as you walked around the table and stopped next to his chair. Yunho leaned back and his eyes slid from your bare legs to your face. He was obviously attracted to your body, no matter how hard he tried to hide it.

"I have a lot of things that require special attention."

You nodded, reached for his laptop, and slammed it shut. Yunho raised his eyebrows.

"Y/n, I really need to..." he trailed off as you bent over him and slowly knelt down, wrapping your hands around his hips. You started massaging him, looking at him with your eyes wide open.

You saw how he struggled with himself. And he lost. Yunho relaxed in his chair and allowed himself to grin. You almost screamed with joy.

"Can't your job wait?"

Yunho's eyes darkened with desire. The bulge in his black trousers gradually grew as he looked at you, and you had to hide your smile. The most desirable groom wanted you.

"Do you want to offer me something?" He asked in a flat voice, trying to sound disinterested. The tight cock in his pants, of course, betrayed him treacherously. You covered his erection with your palm through the fabric.

"I do not know," you replied, continuing to massage him.

"I don't believe you," Yunho smiled grimly and wrapped his arms around your neck. He pressed his mouth against yours. You gasped in surprise, and his tongue slipped inside.

To put it mildly, you were a little confused about what happened. Your hand gently pulled him away from your face and pressed against his cheek.

"Why did you ignore me?!"you asked the question a little louder than you planned. But you had mixed feelings.

"In order for you to come to me yourself," he replied softly, and sadness flashed in his eyes. He took your hand in his and pressed it harder against your cheek.

"I've always wanted you to be there for me. Y/n, we've been together since we were kids. I wanted to be worthy to marry you. But in the pursuit of power, I lost the opportunity to be with you."

He talked about the time when he left the city to work and upgrade his status to boss. When you found out about your marriage in his absence. You didn't love your fiance, you rarely saw each other and talked at events, but your parents claimed that it was the best match for you. You thought over time you might have at least mutual respect, if not love, that you could work together on this marriage. If he hadn't trampled on everything with his actions, which you didn't intend to put up with.

"I didn't love him and you know it," you said, looking straight into his eyes.

"How was I supposed to know, Y/n? I didn't want to impose on you, in the end we got married because of my selfish desire to be with you." He stopped to reach your ear and whisper. "I didn't want you to belong to anyone else anymore. Only for me."

Your parents easily agreed to a second marriage, only to have you remarried.

So Yunho has wanted you all this time. How long ago? Damn it, you got mad and pushed his face away.

"You're a real asshole! I thought friendship was bothering you! Do you have any idea how much I've been thinking about you? That maybe you don't see me as a wife, only as a sister, a friend and a worthy match for yourself? Do you have any idea how angry and upset I was when on our wedding night you just lay down on the bed next to me?"

He just smirked at your outrage. It wasn't your good childhood friend, it's not a golden retriever in front of you now. Now he was a mafia boss and your husband.

"But look where you are now." He smiled with all his teeth, as if this was an ordinary friendly conversation. "You are kneeling in front of me and dreaming of my touch, this is a strong proof that you care about me. Isn't it a wonderful start for a new stage in our relationship?"

You took a shaky breath, wild desire had already taken over your mind and you couldn't think of anything else but Yunho and what he was going to do to you.

He pulled down the zipper and pulled out his hard cock. You gasped at his size. You couldn't wait to try him. And you wondered if he could fit inside you.

Yunho stroked cock several times, running his thumb over the head, already shiny with pre-cum, before circling your lips with it. It's like a confirmation that you're only his. You licked your lips, feeling his taste on you, biting your lips with lust, and Yunho sucked in a sharp breath.

"Y/n, don't tease me."

Leaning forward, you slowly licked his trunk from the base to the head before sticking your tongue into the small hole and tasting it. Yunho took you by the head and gently held you in place as you ran your tongue around his cock over and over again, deliberately barely touching, grinning in thought. The fingers in your hair twitched, and he gave you a little push forward.

"Suck my dick, princess" for the first time in many years, he called you by that nickname.

You confidently wrapped your lips around the head and began to suck, running your tongue around it. Yunho watched you through half-closed eyelids, massaging your scalp. You took it deeper and then started moving your head up and down. Judging by his reddened ears, he liked it. Yunho was staring at you. He began to swing his hips and tightened his grip on your hair as you sucked him faster.

"I'm close," he warned.

You didn't stop, and soon you felt Yunho's tension from the orgasm that engulfed him. His cock twitched and he poured into your mouth. You swallowed his cum while continuing to suck. Yunho moaned, and you held him in your mouth until he softened. Your own desire was throbbing deep inside you, just a little more and it would start dripping onto the floor.

He looked at you with bleary eyes and smiled. His hand grabbed your chin, forcing you to get to your feet with him. Yunho didn't leave a single centimeter of free space between you, he wanted to be as close to you as possible. You were embarrassed by his gaze and tried to avoid his eyes, but the fingers on your chin tightened.

"I'll never let you go again, Y/n, do you understand?" You nodded.

Your heart was racing from the sexual tension that was flying between you. His lips found yours, stopping your thoughts. His kiss became stronger, grabbing you by the hips and lifting you onto his desk. You squealed in surprise. Yunho sat your ass right on the edge and spread your legs. Your nightgown was pulled up and he could see how wet you were. He grinned as he pulled your underpants down.

"You won't need this anymore." His gaze settled on your pussy. His index finger began to tease you slightly before plunging into your wet cunt, drawing out your arousal.

You were trembling with excitement and moaned when he slid two long fingers into you. Your walls wrapped around him, squeezing your fingers in an iron grip. He started fucking you slowly and you grabbed his shirt. Yunho stared at your pleading face.

"Do you trust me, Y/n?" he pushed his fingers deeper, touching your sweet spot.

"Yes, yes, yes, yes, oh my god Yunho." You could hardly think.

"Aren't you afraid of me?"

"No, why should I be afraid?"

"Because I really want to fuck you so much that you can't walk for a week. Would you mind if I..."

Your wild and unbridled kiss interrupted him. There's never been a man you've wanted more than him. You trusted him with your secrets and desires as a child, you trusted him with your body and love now.

Yunho had enough of that to answer in order to lay you back on the table in the next second. The other hand lowered the straps of your nightgown, exposing your breasts and he pressed his lips to your nipple. You screamed and jerked your hips from the surging sensations of fingers inside you and a painful grip on your nipple. Yunho sucked your breast hard, playing with the nipple with his tongue, then biting with his teeth, which will surely leave traces.

"I've wanted to taste your boobs for so long, I can't wait for them to start pouring milk." he smiled the warmest smile in the world. Oh, damn it, everything inside you trembled from the need to cum after those words.

He enjoyed every part of your skin that he kissed and bit, enjoyed how your walls tightened around his fingers, how your ass arched over the table, enjoyed your flushed face and loud moans from orgasm.

You fell silent, feeling exhausted and sated. Yunho slowly pulled his fingers out of you, which made you feel cold on your skin. He unbuckled his holster and belt, the only thing holding his unbuttoned trousers. His reddened cock was hard and shiny.

You managed to sob before his hands lifted you off the table, turned you around and pushed you forward so that you leaned over the edge, your ass was baked out. Yunho slapped your ass hard, making you arch up with a stifled groan. His chest pressed against your back, his lips caught your earlobe.

"I don't think you're surprised by this pose, princess," you could have sworn you felt his satisfied smirk all over your body. And you could have laughed if you weren't too needy of his cock, so you could only mumble something incoherent.

He stroked your ass, his tip slowly parted your thighs until you felt him at your entrance. Yunho groaned, you felt how big he was inside your tight pussy and he needed a little diligence to move on. You were suffocating from the way he filled you completely,

"You're taking my dick so well, princess, just a little more." He kissed your shoulder soothingly.

With one sharp movement, Yunho plunged deep into you. You exhaled and gripped the edge of the countertop with your fingers, trying to hold on when Yunho began to pound into you. You gasped as he entered you deeper, making your nipples rub against the cold, smooth table.

"Fuck"

Yunho wrapped his hand around your chest, connecting your heated bodies while the other hand descended to your clit. He made a trail of kisses on your back, thrusting into you harder.

Your legs were seconds away from buckling from the impending orgasm. You groaned as you felt hot tears on your cheeks. It was too good. Before you could warn him, you cum, your walls clenched tightly around his cock. Yunho tensed behind you, he tightened his grip on your hips, his fingers digging into your skin almost painfully. He slammed into you and groaned low, his cock expanded inside you and you felt him fill you with his sperm. You could feel your pleasure flowing down your thighs.

Yunho leaned his whole body on you, leaving these kisses on your shoulder and neck while you tried to take a breath. When you regained your breath, Yunho slowly pulled his cock out of you and you trembled from the emptiness that formed. He picked you up in his arms and carried you to bedroom.

After carefully putting you in bed, he went into the bathroom to bring you a wet towel. Your husband gently wiped your thighs and pussy of cum. Your heart is filled with warmth. Yunho undressed and lay down next to you under the blanket facing you. His eyes were studying you intently. You smiled at him softly, touching his cheek with your hand.

"I'm fine," you kissed him gently on the lips. He moved even closer and wrapped his arm around you.

"Are you taking pills?" he whispered, as if he was afraid of the answer. You kissed him again. Yunho thought you were taking them, but…

"No," you could see something like pleasant surprise on his face.

"Do you want children?"

"Yes, I think I'm ready for them. So if we have a baby in 9 months, then it will be your fault too," you poked his chest with your finger. He laughed, and his laugh was the best sound in the world. His eyes filled with warmth. You lay on his chest, his hand traced patterns on back and waist.

"Do you remember when we were kids, we fantasized about growing up, saving up money and flying to Ecuador because we saw a beautiful package tour advertisement?" you nodded.

"I bought us tickets there, let it be our honeymoon destination." Yunho smiled at you and you smiled back at him.

"I love you, Y/n"

"I love you, Yunho"

"Are we like friends with benefits now?" you slapped him on the shoulder to get that stupid smirk off his face and he laughed out loud.

Unbearable. The same as before.

[bigfatbimbo]

hi again! I have many headcanons stored inside my brain right now, so I’ve got some headcanons for Vox right now!

May not be completely canon but I’ll try my best to get Vox as canon as possible and not OOC! (I have a lot more sir pentious hcs though if you’re willing to hear..)

Also, I apologize if my English isn’t great, or if my grammar is off, orrrr.. whatever. I natively speak Armenian, so, fun fact I guess. Sometimes I struggle with English but I hope this is good enough!

Vox; NSFW

Vox 100% only shows his submissive nature around people whom he trusts most, specifically you. He, of course, retaliates and makes smartass remarks whenever he’s subbing, but that’s to be expected from a man that’s just born to be a brat.

He battles with Valentino for dominance which, to my knowledge, is canon. I feel like it definitely takes way too long for them to decide who will be the sub because neither of them want to give up the title of the dom. But when you come along, it’s obvious who the dom will be. (Well, at least to you and Vox, since he obviously gets humiliated if everyone else knows that he likes getting fucked by you.)

He wouldn’t immediately falter. He retaliates and retaliates and retaliates. But he does eventually give into your demands and becomes a good boy.

But even if he is being a good boy, I think it would be fun to play around with him and degrade him no matter how good he’s doing. Of course throw some random praises into the mix, but I just wanna degrade him so bad. (Maybe I just like being mean to fictional men all the time. Dunno.)

Call him a slut, tell him he’s pathetic, whatever you want to say. He’ll be either 1: retaliating, or 2: whimpering and not even being able to respond since he’s probably too fucked out of his mind to do so.

But if you decide to be nice with him and praise him, he’ll just end up sobbing. Don’t know why, but he will. He’ll be sobbing while calling you mommy as you’re pegging him or riding him or whatever you wish to do.

Now, onto some more juicy stuff. I feel like he cums really fast. Especially when he’s got that boycunt. One feather light touch and he is DONE FOR. Eat him out and he will be squirting almost immediately because he just loves how your tongue feels inside of him.

ALSO, he’s definitely the smug ass type to be sending you pics whenever he’s masturbating. He probably has a smug grin when he’s sending you a picture of him playing with his pussy. Or he’ll even send videos, where he’s moaning and begging for you.

To be fair, he would still do this when he has his cock, no doubt. He would be jerking himself off while fucking himself with a dildo and begging for you. But I feel like he gets 100x more needy whenever he switches his parts out for a pussy.

It’s just a weird light switch that goes off in his brain. Like, wow, he has a pussy. Now he needs you to fuck his wet cunt until he sobs. Don’t make me explain I just know it happens somehow

When he doesn’t have his cunt however, he LOVES being pegged. In my opinion he’s a pegging enthusiast. Get the strap out and he will get so damn desperate for the dildo attached to it.

He gets super whiney when you’re using pegging as a punishment for him. You can do it really fast and rough because he’s been a brat, and make it so that he probably won’t be able to walk for the next, what, 3 days? (Overexaggeration.. but still.)

OR you could do it AGONIZINGLY slow as a punishment. Go as slow as possible while fucking into him with your plastic dick while he begs for you to speed up, but you just keep going at the slowest pace you can. He needs to get put into his place.

I feel like he would immediately get horny from hugs from behind. Don’t know why, but whenever you walk up to him from behind and put your arms around his waist while you may be whispering something to him, it feels to intimate to him and he either whimpers or try to ward you off.. although not really, since he’s just being a brat. He wants you to keep holding him forever.

He probably likes rough sex most of the time. But if he’s stressed or tired, he wants super fluffy sex where you’re taking care of him and making sure to be as soothing as possible. Gently fuck into him with your strap while he holds onto your shoulders since he’s on his back. Make him feel like he’s getting fucked into the clouds but in the most fluffiest of ways. And make sure to give him the best aftercare.

About the rough sex thing, however, BE ROUGH. He doesn’t want it TOO rough, since he’s sensitive. But fuck him into absolute oblivion until he can’t even remember his own name. Instead, the only thing clouding his mind is you, you, you. Make him cum over and over again while having no plan on stopping until he’s too overstimulated to go on.

Or you can edge him until he’s obedient enough for you. Put a cock ring on his cock and make sure he cannot cum while you thrust your strap into him. He needs consequences, he needs to get karma, for being such a brat.

Onto aftercare: GIVE HIM SOOTHING AFTERCARE. Make sure to give him plenty of cuddles and kisses from underneath the fluffiest blue (it HAS TO BE SPECIFICALLY BLUE) blanket you can find. Give him snacks and watch a movie with him. If it’s messy, then of course clean up beforehand.

But if either of you are too tired for either of those things, then he’s completely fine with cuddling you to sleep while having soft dreams of you, and only you.

Had to make sure to end a bit fluffy haha

Sorry if this is bad, or if you have already said some of these things before. Perhaps we share a braincell or perhaps I just agree with a lot of the things you say. Who knows?

i’m literally so spent and borderline delirious but this is the best thing i’ve received all day oh my god. lowkey improved my mood so much.

i won’t say much because you did literally amazing work and covered all the bases, but the idea of him with a smug smile sending videos of him fingering himself… yeah. yeah i dig it.

[thegnomelord]

hi gnome! Had a few thoughts about Hound that I felt the need to share:

I feel like Hound needs to do something to keep their head occupied after they’re taken from Makarov. Let it be doing the dishes, folding laundry, anything to keep their mind busy. Because god forbid they have to sit in silence (like u said). They hate silence so much, boredom gnawing at their mind makes them go crazy. They need to do something, anything to stop thinking about Makarov/ their pain/ maybe their past too. Rehab is just constantly doing something. And it’s almost pathetic how often Hound appears in Price’s office, silently asking for anything to do. They pick up woodcarving maybe, because it’s an outlet for the violent desire to dig a knife into something, to carve and destroy.

I was also thinking: What if Hound doesn’t want to eat anything that tastes slightly like blood, or iron in that case? What if they’re so scarred from Makarovs ‘conditioning’ (torture) that blood tastes like acid, like poison to them? They get sick to their stomach when they smell iron, too. They can’t eat medium rare meat during rehab, it makes them wanna vomit.

Sorry if my English isn’t very good, it’s not my native language. And btw, I really love your writing style <3

Dude don't worry about it, I'm not native english either but your writing is great :Dd

You're deffo right about Hound needing to just do something. I feel like at first Hound wouldn't want to come to Price, Hound holds deep grudges and Price would need to come up with ways to help him indirectly.

I doubt anyone would let him near a knife at the start and even mid way through rehab. But Hound could probably get those stress toys you can squish. You through so many in a week, along with simple things like pencils or crayons; Cracking a pencil isn't the same as breaking a spine, clenching your fist around a squish ball until it pops doesn't feel as satisfying as it does when you crush a man's skull, but it satiates the violence in your marrow.

As for your second thing; I feel like it would be the opposite. Hound's so used to the taste of blood on his tongue that he can't go without it for long, it's like a drug. Blood is one of the few constants in his life(besides death and pain), something that he knows will happen again and again so he feels safe when there's a coppery taste in his mouth. Be it eating raw steaks or just biting at his own flesh until it bleeds, Hound needs blood.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

On the language debate, I personally headcanon that the main language spoken at NRC is a common one. (?) (Like how English is the business language, or like how generally Native Americans had a common language that they spoke when trading with other tribes.) And Crowley or the Mirror used magic so that You was temporary fluent in that language.

After the ceremony, Yuu has to learn the common language and picks it up really fast (as one would in such a situation). Therefore, Yuu can still speak it when away from NRC.

(I also headcanon English as an ancient language akin to Latin, because I heard that Arabic was canonically an ancient language.)

[Referencing this post!]

I’d buy that everyone at NRC speaks the common language to some level of proficiency; it’s like how international students typically need to speak the language of whichever country they hope to study in and need to prove their fluency in an exam beforehand. As I said in the original post, the light novel does mention a translation spell over the school, so maybe that’s part of the “magic” that helps Yuu to understand what the others are saying.

Now, it’s theoretically possible for Yuu to learn the common language of Twisted Wonderland in a year, but I don’t think immersion alone would cut it (especially since the main story is only up to like 2/4 to 3/4 of a year so far) . They’d probably have to put in significant effort outside of everyday conversations to pick up its rules (because remember that language isn’t just vocabulary but also grammar, syntax, and social conventions). Yuu would also need consistent feedback from people since that’s how one usually “fixes” their incorrect language use. It’s similar to how adults would correct a child learning their first language; ie a kid says “wadur” instead of “water”.)

One site I looked at suggested that, depending on the language categorization (I, II, III, of IV), it can take 24-92 weeks’ worth of time to become an “advanced” speaker. Realistically, just getting to the basic conversational level could be hundreds or thousands (700-2500+) of hours on its own—and Yuu has to do this on their own time between homework, going to classes, and managing all the issues that Crowley doesn’t 💀 To me, that doesn’t sound like a lot of free time. Counterpoint to my own point though, we also have to consider that Yuu is... well, technically Yuu can be any age you want, but most Yuus are implied or portrayed to be 16-18. The critical window for language acquisition is theorized to be anywhere from the first three years of life up to as late as 17-18 years. After this critical window, the ability for language development tapers off. So, thinking about that, Yuu's brain could still be very pliable and able to absorb new language (though they'd have to work quite intensely to pack in as much as they can before this ability starts to decline).

Something that I feel would be difficult for Yuu is that the characters often use slang (Cater, Floyd, Idia, etc.) and/or uncommon words (like Vil’s “pulchritude”). The former may not follow the standardized rules of a language or may be idioms (other non-literal meanings for common words), which could make it hard for a non-native speaker to understand. The latter would not be used that often, so Yuu would be forced to guesstimate what the word means. I’d imagine this would make fluency challenging, because as immersed as Yuu is in Twisted Wonderland, less frequently used words are harder to grasp.

Maybe Crowley cast a translation spell ON Yuu so that they can still converse with people in the common tongue whenever they leave NRC? Or, since the events basically occur in an AU, more than a year has passed so it has allowed Yuu more time to absorb the language. Language in TWST and how it works… It’s really interesting to think about!

[codfanficedits]

Drunken piggyback rides.

Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x fem!Reader

Summary: Simon gives you a piggyback ride home :)

Wordcount: 4775| Rating: E (18+ only!)

Warnings: miscommunication, communication, friends to lovers, fluff, swearing, drinking.

A/N:I didn't proofread and English isn't my native tongue, so please let me know if there are mistakes. This was supposed to be short, but it ended up longer than I planned. See this as a little make up gift for the last fic

“Next time you’re drunk of your tits, you call me, got it?” You can recall Ghost’s gruff words the last time you got drunk out of you mind. You’d thrown up in Price’s shoes, and it was fair to say that no one was really charmed of your drunken antics. Especially not when half of the taskforce was send out to look for you, since your drunken mind was unable to stumble back to base. So here you were, waiting in the godforsaken cold, until Ghost came to pick you up. You didn’t hear him coming, his footsteps silent while he took long strides your way. How could a man so tall, so bulky be so quiet?

“Bloody hell.” He groans, as he sees your drunken state. A lazy grin on your face, unable to stand straight on your own feet. “The next time I see Soap I’ll kill him for challenging him to a drinking contest.”

“Thank you.” You giggle, unable to determine if his annoyance is real or a decoy. Ghost shakes his head. “You’re goddamn lucky that I came to pick you up and not some fucking pervert. Do you know what could’ve happened?” But his scoldings are for the deaf, you simply do not care. He is here now? So what is his problem. You can see him struggle on how to take you back, you’re too drunk to walk, and he isn’t one to pick you up bridal style. So he sighs and offers you a piggy back ride. His hands are firmly under your thighs, his touch is warm and gentle, a nice contrast to the cold air. You notice his walk is slow and steady, almost as if he is afraid to drop you. You close your eyes, rolling your head back as you finally relax.

“Thank you again.”

The sound he makes is something between a growl and a chuckle. “It’s nothing.” He says in a dry voice. In truth, you’re probably the last person he expected to pick up tonight, he had hoped you had learned your lesson. But here you were, drunk out of your mind, and Simon is soft at heart, for you at least.

The last time you’ve had a piggy back ride must’ve been when you were a child, and right know it brings back some nice memories, his strong hands making you feel secure and safe. You’ve already thanked him twice, and you want to thank him a million more times. But he is Ghost and you know you’ll get an earful if you do so. You do open your eyes again, taking in every detail of the side of his face that you can see. “You have a little scare here.” You murmur as your fingertips trace it.

His steps falter. Simon knows the scar you’re talking about. It’s the one on his left cheek, a reminder of the lowest points of his life. He dislikes showing his face, but he is okay with his teammates seeing it. Yet here you are, touching him softly.

“Yeah, just a scratch.” He growls, in an attempt to play it cool. But he has to admit, he doesn’t hate what you’re doing.

Of course you knew the scar, you were there when he got is, you knew how hard that mission had been, you knew how many the team had lost, how close you’d been to losing him too. Your soft lips press against the scar, a sweet little kiss. “I’m glad you’re still here.” Your voice a soft murmur.

That unexpected kiss sends a wave of emotion through him, and before he can even respond, you give him a warm smile that makes his blood pump faster through his veins. Simon tries to regain control of himself, and he fails miserably.

“I.. Damn it.” He growls, trying to hide the blush that creeps on his face. “You are.. a bloody.. troublemaker.” He manages.

But you’re too drunk to notice his inner turmoil and his comment is rewarded with a giggle. You rest your chin on his shoulder, as he carries you back to base, and you feel content, happy even. “Will you kick my ass if I thank you again for walking me home?”

It would’ve been the perfect moment for a funny comeback, but all the snark in the world fails him as he turns his head to the side and is met with you. You’re a handful, and there’s a part of him that wants to strangle you for it. But there’s also a part of him that wishes he could…

He coughs to catch himself before his emotions get the better of his thoughts. “No, uh, probably not.” He grumbles. “But don’t push your luck.”

You know your teammate, your friend, and you know he is annoyed that he is carrying you home instead of sleeping in a warm bed, but deep down you also know he cares too much to let anything harm you.

So you smile at him, your cheek resting on his shoulder as you look at him. The alcohol in combination with the attraction you’ve always felt towards him takes over as your hand makes its way to his hair, running your fingers through the short, dirty blonde hair. “So soft.” You whisper.

A low growl escapes him, a sign that he is slowly, but surely losing the battle to keep his cool. “I know you’re drunk, princess, but you should try to behave yourself.” He grits out. And no matter how many times he had seen you, you always looked gorgeous to him. Your hand in his a sure way to set him off, and this entire situation seem tailor made to drive him insane. Simon picks up his pace, desperate to avoid even more chaos.

Now being called princess by Ghost was a new thing for you, but you weren’t against it. Your fingernails caressing the back of his neck when you take your hand out of his hair. “I’m sorry.” You whisper softly, your breath tickling his ear. Your hand rests at the back of his neck, it felt nice to touch someone, especially when it was someone you cared about.

His jaw tenses as he tries to distract himself from the sweet, warm feeling of your hand on his neck. You are not making this easy for him. If this was any other woman, he’d be all over her in a second. Hell he’s done it before.

But when it comes to you, he feels.. different. A mix of emotions that he is not comfortable with. And the fact that it is you just makes it more confusing.

His clenched jaw doesn’t get unnoticed by you and you remove your hand from his neck, letting it rest on your own body. You knew he wasn’t interested in you, not like that. You had seen him be with other women. Just friends. That is all you’ll ever be. You close your eyes again, and suddenly being back to base is the only thing you want.

Simon doesn’t say anything as he walks faster, desperate to put some distance between him and the situation. As if reading his mind, the entrance of the base appears out of the darkness.

“We’re back.” He growls. As if he suddenly remembers your head is resting on his shoulder, he stops walking and tries to push you off. “Get off.” He snaps, his tone more harsh that he intended.

You look up from his shoulder, bracing yourself when his hands stop holding your thighs as he lets go off you. You know you have walk the last part yourself. “Thank you.” You mumble after an awkward silence, and you watch him walk away, not saying a word to you as he disappeared into base. And for that moment you hate yourself, but you suppress those feeling as you stumble back to your own quarters.

Simon doesn’t look back; it’s better that way. He walks to his own quarters, alone, and he sinks down to his bed. Why does it have to be you that gets to his emotions? Why do you have to be the one to make him feel this way? He doesn’t want to think about it.. he hates himself for it. But the thoughts won’t go away. And now, all he can hear is your voice. The way it sounds when you whisper.

“So soft...”

You hate this, you hate how your feelings for him come out when you’re drunk, and that while you’re so good at hiding them when you’re sober.

A friend. A friend. A friend. You keep chanting it to yourself, a mantra stuck in your brain. Ghost just sees you as a friend, and you need to learn to accept it. You drop yourself to your bed, your eyes falling shut as you think about the inevitable, facing him again tomorrow.

But Simon can’t get you out of his head. No matter how many times he tries, the thoughts refuse to leave.

Your voice.

Your face.

Damn it.

He watches the hours pass, the walk home replaying in his mind.

There’s no point in sleeping and he wants a cigarette and he wants it now.

“I still bloody hate you.” He murmurs to himself.

You’re tossing and turning the whole night. Short naps, short sessions to stare at the wall and the cycle repeats. The alcohol starts to wear off and you’re faced with what happened this night. You curse yourself, you curse yourself for touching that scar, for kissing the scar, for touching his hair. God, you hated yourself. You swing your legs over the edge of your bed, hoping that a quick shower and a change of clothes would make you feel better.

Of course they don’t. A pounding headache starts to form, a sign that your thoughts are finally sober. A glass of water and two painkillers enter your system as you slip on some shoes. God you need a cigarette and some fresh air. Fuck. You stop in your tracks as you spot him, smoking all by himself. Why him? Why now.

Simon takes a long, slow drag from his cigarette and leans against a wall outside base. He closes his eyes, enjoying the peace of the empty morning.. and then he hears footsteps. His head snaps up, his eyes narrowed and scanning the area. But it’s just you. Of course it is. A wave of unease washes over him as he watches you approach.

“Morning.” He mutters. He doesn’t want to talk to you, and yet there’s a small part of him that’s secretly glad you’ve come.

It is awkward. Oh dear God it is awkward, and you wish you had just stayed in bed, rotting away while you cringed at your drunken behaviour, but no, you just had to go outside.

“Simon.” You mutter back as a greeting, before you light your own cigarette, keeping the distance between the two of you. God damn it, why couldn’t they just allow smoking everywhere on this base? Why did he have to be out here too, in the little smokers corner?

The uneasy silence stretches between you. You both know what happened last night but you’re both too embarrassed to speak about it. Simon inhales and exhales, exhaling clouds of smoke as he struggles to look anywhere but at you.

“Look I.. what the hell were you thinking?” he asks suddenly, breaking the silence. “Do you.. what.. what the hell?” he struggles to continue.

You close your eyes at his harsh words. Opening them again after you’ve taken a deep breath. What the hell had you been thinking? You don’t even know yourself.

“Look.” You start with a hoarse whisper. “I am sorry.” And you truly are. You’re sorry that he had to carry her home, you are sorry that she kissed his scar, you’re sorry that you ran your hand through his hair.

“I shouldn’t have done any of this.”

Simon takes a long drag and then exhales, his jaw clenched and his expression is one of irritation. “But you did.” He growls. He’s annoyed, and yet.. even he is too embarrassed to admit that he enjoyed the way you were looking at him last night. But he pushes that thought aside. “Why?” He hisses. “Why did you do that?”

Yeah, why did you do it? Because you love him, because you have had the biggest crush on him the moment you met him. But he doesn’t look at you the way he looks at the women he takes home from the bar. So you push it away again, like you had done plenty of times before.

“I was drunk.” You say meekly, and it’s the truth. “I was drunk and I want to let you know I’m glad you didn’t die on that mission.” You continued, the main reason why you kissed that scar. “And now I’m sober and I’m embarrassed.” You shake your head. “I’m sorry for treating you like this, you’re my friend and I overstepped your boundaries.”

Simon stays silent as he drags on his cigarette. His mind races.

Don’t think it. Don’t think it. Don’t think it. You’re imaging it, that’s all.

His eyes flick to yours for a split second, and then fix on the ground again. He wants to be mad at you right now. He wants to be mad because it is easier than all these emotions he is not willing to explore.

Don’t think it. Don’t think it. Don’t think it.

Oh but this is even worse, the way this silence lingers between the two of them, how he doesn’t even look at you. God, you hate yourself for letting it go to this point.

Your cigarette is burning up by itself, you haven’t even taken a single drag yet. You bring the cigarette to your lips, taking a drag before she blows out the smoke, waiting for him to say anything. But there is just silence, nothing more than silence. So you press your cigarette our against the wall.

“I’m sorry.” You repeat again.

Simon finishes his cigarette too and stubs it out against the wall. Then he does something he never thought he would. He closes the distance between the two of you and embraces you tightly. Burying his head in your shoulder and wrapping his arms around you. He doesn’t say or do anything else. He just stands there, for the longest time, enjoying the feeling of having you in his arms.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. You don’t know what to do. You don’t know how much longer you can keep up this façade of just being friends. But you can’t lose him, anything but losing him. So your hand rests on the back of his head while he buries his head into your shoulders, hiding in your hair. Your other hand resting on his back, your nails making soft circles on his shirt, while your heart feels like it is beating out of your chest.

Simon buries his head further into your shoulder, closing his eyes in the process. Your soft touch is making him feel things that he is not ready to acknowledge, let alone face them. His breathing matches yours, slow and steady. And he doesn’t want this moment to ever end. Why does this, with you, feel more intimate than any of the other woman? Why does your touch feel different than everyone else’s?

You close your eyes too as you hold him close. You like this feeling more than you’ll ever let him know. But God, do you want to hold him longer, kiss him, touch him, taste him, be his. The hand on his head gets lifted and moves to his neck, making the same soft circles as on his shirt.

The sensation of your nails on his skin sends tingles throughout his body, the sensation becoming almost too much for him to bear. But he does bear it, refusing to give in to the feeling of your touch. The feeling of what he could have. Of what he could be with you. He struggles to keep his mind clear, to ignore what the body wants to do. But it’s hard, it’s so very hard.

It's torture.

Torture that he wants to make last forever.

Your eyes lift up to the sky, the morning colour painting the sky as a canvas and for a brief moment it is all perfect. But reality dawns on you again, you’re holding your friend, the man you’ve been crushing on since you met. But who will always be just a friend. You place your cheek against his head, both hands, both set of nails softly caressing his skin.

Simon lets out a low murmur of approval as he feels your hands working their magic, a growl emerging from him as he turns his head slightly and buries it deeper into the crook of your neck. This… this is torture.

He wants your hands everywhere on him. He wants this moment, this feeling, to never end. God, how much longer can he take it?

“It’s.. it’s just too nice.” He murmurs. But he is not saying it to you, he is saying to himself.

You can barely make out the words that leave his lips, but they make your heart flutter. You can feel his lips move against the sensitive skin on your neck. The hand on his neck stays there, although your nails dance around the border of his hairline, before they go back to his neck again. The hand on his back goes from making circles to making long strokes, up to the shoulder blades, all the way down to the small of his back.

Simon lets out a long sigh, feeling your hand stroke across his back. It feels good. Damn good. Good enough that the can only think about how he doesn’t want it to end. It brings him a sense of comfort he hasn’t felt in a long time. Please stay here, right here, right now. His arms squeeze your tighter as your nails send tingles of pleasure throughout his body. Don’t let it end.

Standing here like this, with him in your arms makes you forget about it all, it made you forget about him carrying you back to base, about you being so drunk you kissed his scar, about the awkward silence you had while smoking. It doesn’t matter anymore, all that matters is this moment. Your nails run all over his back, changing the pressure. Going from slow to fast, back to slow again. All so you can hold him a little longer.

Simon is basking in the sensation of your hand running all over his back. The change in pressure, the slow to fast, back to slow again, is heaven on earth.

You’re his heaven.

This moment is heaven.

He breathes a sigh of content as he keeps his head in the crook of your neck, wanting this bliss to last as long as possible.

A smile curls on your lips as you notice his reaction to the change of pressure and speed. Anything to make him happy. In a moment of boldness you press a soft kiss on the top of his head. Begging that he will take the hint and takes the lead.

His breath catches in his throat as you kiss his head. This isn’t torture anymore.

It’s torment.

Goddamn torment.

But don’t you dare stop.

Simon isn’t the only one who finds this torment. You’re craving the feeling of slipping your hand under his shirt and letting your fingertips and nails caress the bare skin of his back. But you can’t, you’re still outside, you’re still just friends. But how can you love another man after his?

Your continued touch is driving him absolutely insane. God do you even know what would happen if he did let you slip your hand under his shirt? And do you even know what he wants to do to you right now? God, his mind is filled with thought he never knew he had. You just want to know what could be, what could happen if one of you was to cross that line of being friends. But you’re scared, scared of losing him as a friend. But you’re just as brave as you are scared. Brave enough that when you reach the small of his back again, you let your hand slip under his shirt, your nails making soft circles on his bare skin, all while you hold your breath, anticipating his reaction.

Oh God. His breathing catches in his throat as he tries to ignore the sensation of your nails against his bare skin, but he can’t.

He wants.. He wants..

Simon turns quickly, his hands reaching for your waist before he pulls your body close to his. His free hand holds your head, his face inches away from yours. “Don’t you do this to me right now.” He hisses. “We’re friends. You’re my friend.”

You swallow the lump in your throat as you remove the hand from under his shirt, the hand on his neck stops moving before you remove that one too. Your hands falling limp next to your body. “Friends.” You whisper back.

Simon takes a deep, calming breath to settle his heart rate before he leans in closer, his lips mere centimetres away from yours.

“Friends.” He whispers. It’s a simple, yet charged word that hands in the air between the two of you. He know what he just did. He knows what he almost let happen between the two of you. But he knows that he can’t. He won’t let that barrier fall. A friendship is too precious to ruin. And friend don’t kiss each other.

Now it is his turn to torture you. His lips mere centimetres away from yours, and you want to kiss him, you want to be more than just his friend.

You want. You want. You want.

Your heart is pounding in your chest. Your mind is racing.

Friends don’t kiss each other, but rules are made to be broken, right? You don’t want to think, not of the consequences.

So you press your lips against his.

His lips are against yours, and he wants nothing more than to deepen these soft kisses as the two of you lose yourselves in each other’s bodies. His arm wraps around your back, his other hand stroking the locks of hair behind your ear as he caresses your cheek. For Simon there is nothing else here, nothing else is real, nothing else matters. Just you in his arms, and his lips on yours.

Oh God, you had expected him to push you away, to remind you that you were just friends. But instead, Simon broke the rules just like you did. You hand goes to his back again, holding him close again and it is making you feel alive again.

He continues to press his lips against yours, his tongue sliding against yours as he lets out a low groan of pleasure. His fingers run through your hair as if he is running through a field of golden wheat. His hand moves down to your lower back and brings you in tighter, as if he wants nothing more than to hold you closer than he’s ever held anyone.

Just a little longer.

You’re so close to him, to the point where you don’t know where he ends an you begin, but by God are you loving it. No matter how much you enjoy this, how much longer you want to this, you need to breath, a little strand of saliva between the two of them as you pull back.

Fuck.

The taste of your tongue lingers in his mouth, even when he pulls back with a reluctant groan.

His voice is husky, thick with desire. “Friends don’t kiss. Remember?” As much as he wants to continue, he knows that it can’t. At least not right now. His body yearns for yours, but this isn’t the time. He can’t risk losing you to a moment of passion. Because you’re more than just his friends.

You’re everything.

You hate those words, and you hate that he is the one saying them. But even if he is saying them. He is still holding you close, too close for just friends.

“Then be more than my friend.” You whisper.

And that one sentence cuts him like a blade through the heart. He looks at you.. really looks at you. Those words, if he were to say yes, if he were to tell you everything he wants to right now, would you do the same? Would you be more than just his friend? Would you risk everything just to have him?

“Are you saying what I think you’re saying?” He asks quietly. He lets go off you, removing his hands from your body. God, this moment is killing him.

Your body feels empty, cold without his hands on it, and you’re craving his touch, more than you’ve ever craved something else in your life.

“Yes.” You whisper. “Yes I am.”

The weight of your reply hangs in the air, the tension between the two of you almost painful. He wants you. He wants you more than he’s ever wanted anything. He wants to sweep you off of your feet, to have you in his arms in a way he’s never wanted anyone. But more than that. He wants to keep you. “What if I lose you?”

This hurts, it crumbles up your heart, but it is a fair question and you need to answer it. “But what if you don’t?” you answer. “We’ve been friends since the beginning. I can’t pretend to be friends any longer.”

Your words catch him off guard. You wanted this all this time? And here he was thinking this was just happening. Suddenly, this little moment of passion isn’t as little as he thought. “This whole time you wanted more?”

You hoped it would have slipped past him, but of course it didn’t. It was Simon we’re talking about here.

All this motherfucking time. All this motherfucking time of you wanted this. He lets out a soft groan of pain, his chest tight with nerves and emotions. “Why didn’t you say something sooner?”

Because you were terrified of losing him, because you were so used to putting others first it felt natural to forget about her own feelings. “Because I thought it was a stupid crush at first, we were both young, filled to the brim with hormones.” You admit. “But now we’re no longer young and filled with hormones, and the feeling stayed..” You voice dies out as you sigh. “I’ve seen the way you look at the women you take home from the bar, I’ve seen the way you look at the women you date, and you never looked at me like that. So I kept it hidden.” You let out a deep breath. “I guess.. Bottomline I didn’t want to get hurt.”

“I didn’t look at you like that because I never saw you like that.” He says, his voice cracking slightly with emotion. “I always saw you as my best friend, my rock. So much more than just friends.” He closes his eyes tightly as he tries to find the words.

“You were never a stupid crush for me.” He continues. “You’re everything to me.”

Everything.

“Goddamn.. How am I going to look you in the eye after this?”

Yeah, how do you go from here? Can you even go from here? You’re not sure.

“With some love, I hope.” You say, with a sheepish smile.

His heart is in his throat as he takes a deep, calming breath and he opens his eyes again. “With some love.” He repeats. Then he wraps a hand around your waist and pulls you in close to him again, his lips inches away from you.

“And a lot of kisses.” He breaths.

He wants you, he wants to finally stop looking at you as just his best friend. He wants to look at you as his.

“And a lot of kisses.” You repeat, before your lips meet his again.

Sweet damn, it feels even better than before. He can feel the world disappear into nothing but two hearts beating in the darkness.

Two bodies pressed together.

Two souls intertwining.

Two people losing themselves in each other.

Two people, now more than friends, more than best friends, more.

He is lost in you.

This moment.

Right here, right now.

Is everything he’s ever wanted.

Everything.

[rottenimagines]

Midnight Stalker

Summary: a sad Villanelle sneaks into your bed in the middle of the night.

(Little disclaimer: English is not my native language, but I try my best, I promise x.)  

.

.

On any given night, while you are sleeping peacefully in your bed, a strange noise wakes you up. At first, you think it was just your imagination and close your eyes again, until, all of sudden, a hot breath hits the back of your neck and someone wraps their arms around your waist...

.

.

You sit up immediately and turn on the nightstand light.

Next, a cry of surprise escapes your lips.

‘‘What are you doing here?!’’

Villanelle is there, lying next to you; looking directly into your eyes with a scowl on her face; as if you were the one bothering her!

‘‘Why are you being so dramatic? You should be glad to see me,’’ she rolls her eyes and sighs. ‘‘I didn't come to kill you, Y/n. At least, not yet.’’ 

You look her up and down: she's wearing a dark gray two-piece suit. Although it does not seem that she hides any weapons under it, you can never tell with that woman.

‘‘I'll ask again. What. Are. You. Doing. Here?’’

Villanelle rolls her eyes again as she sits up right in front of you. Her face dangerously close to yours. Actually, she seems very tired, almost like she's...sad?

‘‘What? Can't a girl spend a night with her best friend?’’

You sigh and rub your sleepy eyes. Next, you speak in the most assertive way you can manage at this point, trying to keep your composure so as not to make her angry.

‘‘Villanelle, I've told you a million times. We are not friends. We are... nothing. And you can't break into my home in the middle of the night just like that!’’

She looks around the bedroom, as if your little scolding was boring her to death. 

Her voice is slightly drier as she speaks again.

‘‘Oh please, Y/n. Don't be such a killjoy. I could have come to kill you instead, wouldn't that be worse?’’

Before she gets you a chance to response, she is already wrapping her arms around your shoulders and makes you lie down again. She snuggles with you, like a baby. You have her blonde hair in your face now. All of this is too surreal to be true.

...

‘‘Villanelle... what are you doing?’’

‘‘I know, so cute, isn't it? This is called cuddling. People do it when they're in love, or at least, when they're close. You know, for besties like us.’’ She teases with a hint of playfulness in her voice.

You spend the next few minutes very still, staring at the ceiling, with her body against yours.

...

‘‘...Villanelle?’’

‘‘Hmm?’’

‘‘You... okay? I mean, you look...’’ you clear your throat, ‘‘well... you look a bit tired.’’

There is an awkward silence. 

Villanelle takes a deep breath before speaking again.

‘‘I'm all but fine, actually. Tired, confused, frustrated...’’ She raises her head off your chest to stare at you. Hers gaze remains as dead and distant as always.

 ‘‘And... I have a really strong urge to kiss you, right now.’’

There it is: Villanelle and her ability to leave people speechless with her ‘out of place’ comments.

You look down at her face as if to say ‘are you serious?’, to which she responds by nodding very slowly with a mocking pity face.

‘‘Oh, I see. And... you see yourself able to control it?’’ This time it is you who teases her.

‘‘Nop. I don’t think so.’’

And, in a flash, you have her on you, kissing you. At first, it is gently but, feeling not resistance from you, she increases the intensity. She holds your head strongly as she pulls you even closer to her.

 The feeling of her tongue in your mouth is more than enough to snap you out of your trance; so after a few seconds, you push her away abruptly.

A little flash of annoyance creeps over her face.

‘‘Come on, Y/n, you obviously like it! You must have felt something. Don't lie to yourself. Just admit you want more.’’ She whispers in a seductive tone of voice, bringing her mouth closer to yours.

‘‘Villanelle, no offense, but right now you're just the crazy stalker who just broke into my home in the middle of the night... You understand how weird this all is?’’

She rolls her eyes and pulls back. She definitely is thinking you're being a pain in the ass right now. 

‘‘And you’re the boring one who didn't call the police or shoot me, or anything. You just stayed in your bed, shaking in fear and letting me do whatever I want with you.’’

She enjoys watching your startled face at her words, because, worst of all is that she's right... 

What the hell were you thinking?

You jump out of your bed instantly and gesture for her to leave.

‘‘Get out of my home. Now’’ You try to speak with confidence, but everything is so ridiculous that you barely sound convincing to yourself.

The smirk on her face goes wider.

‘‘What, so suddenly you find your voice?’’ She mocks.

‘‘I’m serious, Villanelle. You have 10 seconds to get your ass out of my bed or I’ll call the police.’’

Although you start counting out loud, she stays right where she was, looking straight into your eyes with her annoying smug smirk.

‘‘Go ahead, I'm waiting...’’

You glare at her, skeptical. What the hell is she up to now? 

‘‘I just want to know if you'll actually do it or not. So...’’ She encourages you with a wave of her hand.

Her eyes gleam with excitement when she sees how you don't move a muscle.

‘‘And I thought I was the weirdo here...’’ She keeps trying to provoke you.

At last, you step up towards the phone, waiting for her to do something to stop you; but she doesn't.

 You grab it and start dialing the number, but not before giving Villanelle a last warning look. 

She keeps watching you from your bed, impassive. She is trying to see if you actually have the guts to go through with it.

'Your last chance', you whisper to her with the phone already in your ear. But she doesn't move, she doesn't speak. Her eyes tell you all that there is to say: 'go ahead'.

.

.

.

Finally, you end up hanging up the phone with a frustrated grunt. She gets away with it, as usual. 

Villanelle's face lights up with wicked excitement as you put the phone back where it was.

‘‘Ha! I knew it! I knew you like me so much!’’

You roll your eyes at her. 

‘‘Look, you want to stay? Fine; stay. But you have to promise me that you'll be good.’’

She raises an eyebrow. ‘‘Define ‘good’ ’’

 ‘‘Don’t kill me in my sleep.’’

Villanelle nods, as if she was really considering all this as something serious.

‘‘I can promise no killing... for now. Deal?’’ She smiles like a happy little girl.

You look her up and down once more.

‘‘First, show me that you don't have any hidden weapons.’’

She gives you a mock offended face as, reluctantly, gets out of your bed and opens her jacket for you; showing no hidden weapons under it.

‘‘... Happy?’’

You ignore her and start frisking her from head to toe, to which she responds with a snort.

‘‘Do I have to ... you know, remove my clothes too?’’ She scoffs, but her mischievous mood quickly fades when sees how you keep frisking her in silent.

‘‘Y/n, believe me; if I wanted you dead, you'd be already dead.’’

You keep ignoring her.

Once you’ve made sure she doesn't have any hidden weapons, you go back to your bed, quietly.

Villanelle stands there for a second, then she takes off her jacket and lays down next to you, just like before, with a small, playful smirk on her face.

‘‘I won't kill you, I swear.’’ She whispers in your ear as wraps your waist, holding you close.

She waits for a moment to see if you’ll continue speaking, then speaks up herself again. 

‘‘Isn't this nice? No killing, no guns, no knives... nothing dirty at all. Just us, the bed and nothing else.’’

‘‘Oh yes, quite a fairy tale... Now, sleep!’’ 

‘‘I’m trying...’’ she rests her head on your chest and closes her eyes. ‘‘Your heartbeat is ... loud.’’

 At last, it seems like she starts to nod off. 

‘‘It's like a drum...’’

 Her voice is soft and sleepy, barely above a whisper now. You're not sure if she's even talking to you specifically anymore.

‘‘...Can you feel my heartbeat too? Hmmm... 

My heart's beating just for you...’’

[cerise-on-top]

what do you think kate, aleria and farah’s fav pet names to call their s/o’s, or even if they like pet names! i absolutely loooovvvvvvveeeee your stuff by the way, love! <3 you are feeding the lesbians in the cod fandom

Hey there! Thank you! I'm glad to hear that I can make something for the women lovers in the CoD fandom! That was my intention all along!

Pet Names That Valeria, Farah and Laswell Use

Valeria: I don’t think she’d use too many pet names as she does believe they’re somewhat embarrassing. Will absolutely not use any in public, but might use some when she’s drunk and alone at home with you. When she’s drunk she usually speaks some Spanglish, so chances are, unless you know both languages, you won’t fully understand her. And even then, her pet names are very few and far in between. They’re also nothing too special. Something along the lines of cariño/a or querido/a. Really, it’s nothing too fancy as Valeria isn’t usually one to show her affections through words. However, you can call her jefa and she’ll go wild internally. Naturally, she’s the boss among the two of you, but it’s nice to hear that anyway. Also the implication of you being family is nice.

Farah: Unlike Valeria, Farah is all for sweet pet names. Loves calling your romantic things that show you just how much she cares about you. She can go either way as well, either calling you something adorable in Arabic or English, she’s fluent in both languages after all. Calls you “my love”, “my moon” or “my heart”. It’s important to note that she usually puts “my” in front of your pet names since it’s important to her that you are hers. However, in Arabic she’ll call you something along the lines of habibi/habibti, rohi or ya amar. Maybe I should mention that she’d also love nothing more than to be sweet with you in Arabic, so her saying things to you in that language aren’t restricted to just pet names. She’ll compare you to the most beautiful things in existence. Farah can be quite eloquent in Arabic, actually, so it’ll always be sweet.

Laswell: Oh, she can probably go any way. Laswell knows so many languages, there’s a good chance she knows yours as well. So she likely wouldn’t be above calling you a pet name in your own language. Besides, if she doesn’t know your language then she’ll simply learn it, she really wants to indulge in the joy of speaking your native tongue with you. So she’ll definitely learn some sweet things she can call you in your language. However, if we go by English alone, then she won’t be too fancy on that one. She could be, don’t get me wrong, but she usually chooses to stick with something that will convey that she loves you, but won’t go overboard. You can expect something along the lines of “my love”, “sweetheart”, “sweetie” and, if she’s feeling especially daring that day, “cutie” from her.

[pupgawa]

Hello😁✋, I saw your work and I wanted to see if I can request fyodor, Nikolai, and my bbg sigma fluff

Can it be a fem reader and Hispanic (Nicaraguan if possible) and she likes to say random phrases in Spanish like: quieres casarte conmigo , mi amor ( would u want to marry me, my love) just random times of the day. So out of nowhere he learns Spanish and starts responding😭🙏

Sorry its really specific😭✋

Leaning their darling's mother tongue

୨♡︎୧ a/n: hello lovely ! Thank you so much for requesting and I love this scenario so much I find it both hilarious and adorable!

That being said that I am not Hispanic myself so I have no clue how to speak the language , I am just using Google translate which may not be 100 percent accurate, so please forgive any mistakes I may have made (⁠ ⁠≧⁠Д⁠≦⁠) but I hope you enjoy anyways !

୨♡︎୧ pairings: Fyodor Dostoevsky x reader, Nikolai Gogol x reader , Sigma x reader

୨♡︎୧ Genre: fluff ! No content warnings at all lovelies <3

Fyodor Dostoevsky 🩸

so being as smart as he is, I whole heartly believe that Fyodor knows multiple languages, anything stemming from English to Russian and everything in between, but you know he was smart, but you never knew that he actually knew what you were saying, he loves to tease so he acts clueless to your sudden language switch, seeing your surprised face is all worth it ♡

you and Fyodor decided to spend the day at home, finding that it was a good day and neither of you wanted to ruin it with blood and gore, you decided to relax at home, it had been a while since you two had.

Fyodor was reading a book and you sat there and admired him, Fyodor was the literal definition of a pretty boy, soft facial features and an even softer voice, it made it hard to believe that this man was a terrorist.

“ Eres tan bonito , mi amor ” ( you're so beautiful , my love ). You didn't even notice your language switch until Fyodor looks away from his back with a head tilt.

“ what did you just say ? ” he asks with a gentle hum. You let a sly smile take over your expression as you wave your hand dismissively. “ oh nothing, dear, it wasn't anything bad, don't worry about it ”, you reassure, Fyodor eyes you skeptically and returns to his book.

gosh he was so pretty you felt like you were falling in love all over again. You open your mouth to speak, intending to use English, but something else came out.

“ ¿Quieres casarte conmigo mi amor? ” “ por supuesto ” ( of course )

you blink, once, twice, three times, your face goes hot in embarrassment.

“ fyodor … you ?- ” he cuts you off with a laugh. “ of course I do ”

you were absolutely embarrassed, all this time you were speaking in your native tongue thinking that nobody could understand you, yet here your boyfriend was, knowing everything you were saying.

“ Eres linda cuando estas sorprendida ” ( you’re pretty when you’re surprised ) “ shut up … ! ”

Nikolai Gogol

similar to Fyodor I think Nikolai knows a bunch of different languages, but unlike Fyodor he isn’t completely fluid in them. So when he heard you talk in your native language he did some research on how to speak it. He’s not completely fluid in Spanish, but he understands a good amount of it ! He especially likes to flirt or tease you in your own language.

| You two were out on a date, out at a fair. You were enjoying yourself, but when you found yourself unable to beat a game for a plushie you had wanted, Nikolai stepped in and won that game for you !

| He hands you a giant white bear stuffed animal that held a plush heart in it’s paws, “ for you, darl’ ~ ” he coos lovingly.

| “ gracias amor ” ( thank you, love ) you were so happy that you didn’t even notice how you went from English to Spanish.

| “ De nada, querida ~ ” ( you’re welcome, dear ) he links your arms together and gives you a peck on the crown of your head.

| you let out an appreciative hum and you continue on with your date.

| the night was quite for most part, asides from the casual conversation of some people, but neither your or Nikolai paid them any mind.

| you two were sharing a plate of food since you had been getting hungry. Starting up small talk and casual conversations.

| “ thank you, for this ” Nikolai blinks and shakes his head with a small laugh. “ no need to thank me, darl’ ”

| there’s a silence between you two, before you break it “ Quieres casarte conmigo mi amor? ” you suddenly, not even noticing you said it until Nikolai responded “ por qué por supuesto ! ”

| you let out a snort of laughter at his enthusiasm. “ I’m glad you agree ” you peck his lips, Nikolai returning the kiss.

| “ Entonces, ¿cuándo planeamos la luna de miel? ” ( so when do we plan the honeymoon ? ) he asks. “ Nikolai ! ” your face flushes softly.

Sigma

Unlike the other two, He didn’t know much until you came along, hearing you talk in Spanish made him motivated to learn. So he picked up any resources he could. He wanted to surprise you, well no he wanted to impress you, actually.

| you had just come off of work, annoyed and stressed out, having to deal with annoying customers and a asshole of a boss.

| the house was clean and dinner was already made, thanks to your boyfriend, sigma who had spent all day making sure you had come home to a meal and a clean house so you could properly relax.

| “ dear ? ” he starts “ what . What ! What do you want !? ” you snap, whipping your head back to see Sigma’s surprised expression.

| your gaze softens a little “ mi amor … I’m sorry- I didn’t mean to yell at you like that- ”

| “ rough day at work ? ” Sigma asks, you nod your head with a soft sigh. “ still it doesn’t give me a right to yell at you like that, I’m sorry ”

| Sigma dismisses your apology “ it’s alright, let’s get something in your stomach and then you can tell me all about your day ” you don’t argue with him.

| After dinner you sat at the edge of the bed, Sigma sat besides you, massaging your shoulders. He was surprisingly good at it too.

| you let out a sigh, relaxing underneath his touch “ you’re too good to me, my love ” Sigma lets out a laugh. “ nonsense, dear, you deserve this after the day you’ve had ” he responds.

| he cooked dinner, he cleaned and made sure the house was clean, all to make sure you could relax properly.

| and now he was listening to you vent while he gave you massage.

| he would make the picture perfect husband, you thought and you unconsciously voiced it too

| “ Quieres casarte conmigo mi amor? ” you asked, not realizing what you had just said yet. Sigma takes all the months of learning he had and puts two and two together, it takes a moment for it register but once he realizes, his face goes red.

| “ si me dejas ” ( if you let me ) he responds, his pronunciation could use a bit of work but you were able to put together what he said.

| “ sigma when … ” “ are you impressed ? I’ve been learning for months ” you smile fondly at him and nod

| “ buen trabajo, mi amor ” ( Good job, my love ) you respond with a laugh. Sigma looks away to hide the smile on his face.

[jaslan4f1]

Hiiiiiii! I would love to request a secret relationship with carlos and maybe reader just gets tired and start distancing because it feels like he’s hiding her since he hasn’t introduced her to his family or friends yet but he’s just a private person. I hope that makes sense

Wanna be yours C.S

Warnings: angst, fluff

Notes: english is not my native language so this may contain consistency errors, i would really appreciate the corrections but please, be kind. feedback is also appreciated ♡

You laid in your bed thoughts keeping you awake. „Why isn’t he texting me back. He probably doesn’t miss me. Of course he doesn’t, it was all one-sided from the begging“ you said to yourself. You stood up and walked to your kitchen to grab a cup of water to refresh your brain. „He hasn’t even told me anything about his friends or his family. Fuck I haven’t even meet them and we have been „dating“ for 5 month now.“ You sat on the kitchen counter tears rolled down your cheeks. You stood up and looked in your mirror. „Gosh Y/n you’re pathetic. Like a dumb child. He clearly doesn’t love you back and just wants your body.“ „I can’t do that, I’m indented, successful and I know my worth.“, the moment you went into your bedroom your phone began to play that special ringtone you had saved for Carlos. „No! I will not pick up his call. I won't buckle again. He should taste his own medicine!“ You looked at your now black phone. „Please call me again and I know you love me“ you whispered with closed eyes. You waited. Nothing. Nothing was he being serious? You cried yourself to sleep that night and the night after that night. He hasn’t called you or texted you. You haven’t reach out too. It hurts like hell for you. How could he ignore you for that long. Okay maybe 1 week wasn’t that long but it was the longest period of time without texting, calling or meeting each other. You woke up with not surprising puffy eyes. You were snapped out of your thoughts by a loud knock. You stood up and open your door. „Mierda can you pleas tell me what all this is supposed to be about?“ he sounded angry no desperate. Was he missing you? You looked at him with big eyes, not knowing what to say. „Carlos…I…I just can’t keep doing this okay?“ He looked at you surprised. „You can’t keep doing what? Us? You want to break up I thought you loved me y/n! Was that all a lie, huh?“ You looked at him with teary eyes. „No Carlos I love you I alway have and I always will. I just wanna be yours.“ He looked at you confused. „What do mean you wanna be mine? You are already mine Y/n“ „No I am not! You know everything about me. My friends, my family, my apartment, my hobbies, what I hate and love about my body, what my favourite colour is and so on.“

„You never tell me anything I don’t know any of your friends, family… gosh Carlos you are you are a total stranger to me.“ You cried out finally speaking what was on your tongue for months. „Y/n…“, „No don’t Y/n me. I’m mentally exhausted and I can’t keep living like this. Carlos I understand that your scared of announcing anything to the pubic but I can’t be the woman on the side that you fuck whenever you want…I can’t be that person for you“ you snapped back. „You are so much more than just a girl I fuck and we both know that“ he said determined. „Then what am I Carlos, please tell me“ you said with your weak voice. „You are the one for me, the only woman I have ever wanted. You are my very personal drug, when I’m without you I can’t breath and I swear if you break up with me I would kill every guy that dares to touch you because you are the most important person that I have ever known. I want you all to myself. I’m scared about you when I’m not with you. Meeting my family would mean I would show you my most private side of me and then you would leave me at the latest.“ he spoke fastly. „Carlos being a private person means not that I will leave you. I just wanna be a part of your life. I hate not knowing anything about you or what you were as a child. I’m tiered of that one-sided love. If we want to work this out you have to open up to me and trust me because I will not hurt you in any way.“ He looked at you with tears in his eyes. „Cariño, I will do anything for you if it means I can be with you but I don’t wanna pop our private bubble just yet.“ And with that he approached you. „Can I kiss you Y/n?“ He said and looked into your eyes. „Sí Carlito“ with your last words his lips crashed o yours and turned into a kiss full of passion and desire. „I will call my Madre and tell her that she will finally meet my beautiful girlfriend.“ You broke the kiss. „Wait your mom knows about me?“ You said confused. „Yes sure I tell my mother everything…Ay stop hitting me“ he said after you hit his arm. „Carlos are you being serious I could have meet your family before if you just opened up.“ „I know and I apologise baby, it won’t happen again I swear.“ He gave you his pinky. „Okay I trust you but don’t lie to me ever again ok“ you said with a harsh voice. He nod and kissed your nose. Finally you would be his and eventually you would become public to the entire world.

a/n; I hope you this oneshot. If you have ideas for stories lease share them with me. 😇

[em-writes-stuff-sometimes]

I really hate to drop and run, but I’ve posted the latest update just before I step away from fandom.

It might be a couple days, it might be a couple months. I’m not sure. I’ve been receiving some anons that, as a general consensus, are telling me that I was a bully for addressing the content stealing because I have a bigger platform and the other person isn’t a native English speaker. My job was brought into it in a way I was uncomfortable with, and I was told rather rudely that it’s not anyone else’s problem that I choose to spend as much time as I do making content (which, weirdly, I don’t think I’ve ever complained about, per se). I’m being told I am a bitch, a cunt, that I should k*ll myself, that the whole thing was an overreaction, that I was wrong to call the other person out. I’m being told that all I do is stir drama, that my life must suck because I’m such an attention-seeking slut, that I’ve lied about both plagiarism cases and that I attack everyone I’m threatened by. I’m being told in anons, and even in reblogs, that I have nothing to complain about and that the other individual was justified in their behaviour. According to these anons, I’m a liar, I’m toxic, I’m the reason fandom is so awful right now, I’m a narcissist, and I should leave the fandom.

Okay, then.

I came with receipts. Even my call-out post was polite. I did not call this person out until they were rude to me and indicated they were unwilling to resolve this issue. I do not believe I should be subject to criticism and abuse for defending my work. Sure, perhaps “all fanfiction is plagiarism”, but in some instances, my work was literally taken from within mere days of posting, and in the SAME fandom for the SAME root pairing. This is not coincidental. This is not something I ever thought I would be demonised for being upset by.

I refuse to allow myself to be degraded and gaslit into minimising a problem created by another user, and mocked for having feelings over that. I was polite to this person. I was kind to this person. They proceeded to insult me, and so, with no further recourse, I took the situation public as I was recommended to do so by my fellow writers. I have never lied about this - I did publically post it when my attempt at private mediation failed. My intention was to force their hand. It worked. Is this kind? No, of course not. Was I aggressive? Yes, perhaps. But these are the wrong questions to ask.

See - why do I have to tolerate being treated unfairly? Why do I have to bite my tongue and lay down so others can walk all over me? Why is it that the fact that people follow me means I am not allowed to ever voice my upset about the manner in which I am being misused? I don’t understand - are all plagiarism call-outs “starting drama” now? I’m particularly upset by this. I do not bait drama, and I do not start shit for the fun of it. I guess there are those who think I should’ve just let them continue; after all, it’s only fanfiction. Not a big deal, right?

I was polite. Until I wasn’t. I did get angry when, after being confronted by all this, they doubled down, making several manipulative posts about me across platforms and blocking me from my right to respond. I’ll apologise for the tone, and I regret posting links to their crossposts - which I did take down not long after posting them, though this is perhaps redundant now - but I am not sorry for being angry. I am allowed to be angry. Maybe it’s “just fanfiction” and I “don’t own any of this stuff anyway”, but it’s my writing, my hours, my research, and my enjoyment that’s being cheapened by all this. 

To those of you who have a problem with this and with me - at least do me the courtesy of letting me know you think I suck so that I (or my friend, who I will be giving some measure of access to my account) can block you back. I don’t want you being part of my space if I decide to return, and nor do I have to live up to everyone’s simultaneous expectations of me. I feel powerless after being told so many times that I don’t have the right to protect my hard work. I’m sorry you’re disappointed in me, but I don’t have any obligation to act the way you - a bystander, who has no idea how much I’ve worked on my writing and how much happiness it has brought me - deem it morally correct to do so.

So, I’m done with fandom and with writing.

For now at least, that is. I’m sad and drained and I no longer enjoy being part of an environment where I am being attacked for something I didn’t start. My passion has been obliterated. My joy sucked away. I feel alone. And this person has continued to make mocking commentary about me on their Wattpad account after reactivating, showing no signs of stopping anytime soon. I’m done.

I’ll be turning off anons for at least a while, even if I feel ready to come back tomorrow. I probably won’t be responding or posting or even really checking in that often, because just the sight of Tumblr is making me anxious and unhappy at the moment. 

I do hope I’ll see you soon. If not - thank you. Thank you for being part of this journey. I love you all for being in my life, even if it wasn’t for long. 

Bye xxx

[notyouraryang0dd3ss]

Thank you for creating this account, you are so brave.

Prefacing: I used to tolerate TS and her music when I was a teen and couldn't really avoid it. Now I'm 25 and I find her abhorrent as a human being.

(I'm not American and where I am from TS was never a Big Hit, unless we're talking 14 year old girls that eventually grow out of liking her. It's not entirely for a good reason, my country's a bit too conservative-brainwashed to like a self-proclained "girl boss" on a gov. level.)

Something that I noticed about that cult-like worship of that frankly boring woman is that most of the interesting shit about her is 1. made up 2. not about her music and I DO NOT understand how this is even considered a singer anymore.

Like, for example. A bunch of liberal queers like her because they take her bland music and fill it with their own meanings. Her lyrics are so soulless and boring and generic you can apply them to anything. You don't have to go listen to staples of quuer music like what drag queens, or queer women, or Black gay men create: because their music is visceral, it speaks onto real lived through opression that not everyone can relate to. But not with fucking TS! She writes the most TYPICAL line and a bunch of people assign some secret gay meaning to it. The amount of times I saw TS added to playlists for queer content is ridiculous. Like she wouldn't be half as popular if her music was regarded as what it is: straight white girl soliloquy.

The shit about her love life? Should not be fucking mentioned in regards to her as an artist. She's SO fucking fake. She will complain that people only see her as some girl who dates all those guys but she's the one fucking monetizing her love story. I'd understand if she didnt TRY TO but she fucking does! She knows she's bland and boring and she relies on people liking gossip enough to listen to her crap.

ok quick note when you said “liberal queers” it should be “queer liberals”. im assuming english isnt your first language so your native tongue has different grammatical rules but in this instance you put “queer” in front of “liberal.” i just don’t want you to be accused of being homophobic or anything so this is a quick note for you

you said you were 25 and everyone who’s been following this blog has been 20+ demographic in particular. i think it must be because we’re old enough to remember her entire journey starting w the 2009 kanye west mtv incident up until this moment. her staunchest swifties on here were born after the fearless release 💀

hmmmm i always wonder what people imply by Taylor Swift being a global superstar. like she’s isn’t popular in the entire continent of Africa but that doesn’t count apparently? and as much as she is popular in south asia, so much news is framed with a western perspective and all westerners think whiteness is default, and this includes taylor swift. i wouldnt be surprised if theyre inflating her popularity abroad as they are here in the states. idk

and so true! she’s known for her controversies and dating drama. even her music is known not for its success but ppl questioning the legitimacy of her grammys she’s received for her music.

also your gaylor hate—i understand. im not straight and i think gaylors were lobotomized by taylor swift’s music like genuinely these bitches have bricks for brains. there are soooooooo many better queer musicians especially musicians of color who write songs of their literal shared experience of queer love, identity, etc. but here they go theorizing that taylor seift and karlie kloss secretly dated 😭 it reminds me of this convo i had with my friend about gay people admiring/looking up to straight and cis people and labelling them as “gay icons.” its so stupid and reductive and continues to marginalize actual queer artists.

also talking abt taylor swift playlists i will never forget when i found spotify’s bad bunny x taylor swift playlist inspired by their photo from the 2023 grammys 💀 it was so dumb

“straight white girl soliloquy” PERIOD ANON! i need to start making a list of what you guys say cause its fkn fire

taylor swift embedded her relationships so deeply into her brand and music that its inseparable from herself. she really does define herself by her partners and her fans do too, which is why they expected this to be a joe alwyn album.

she really is so unoriginal and unremarkable and that’s why her thing WORKS. because to swifties she’s like “another everyday girl like you and me :)” 🙄 whatever. yuck!

[peonierose]

PSA

I don’t know if it’s just me? But is the fandom kinda going away or not interested in stories people put out anymore?

This isn’t me craving attention. Just trying to understand a few things.

I’m also not pointing fingers at anyone (since I’m behind on reading fics myself 😅)

Just trying to understand if people aren’t interested, too busy or if the fics are too long?

Is there something I can improve on? I write mostly fluff, because writing fun stories is how I cope with my anxiety and it helps me.

But I’ve noticed a decline in reblogs, especially with people on my perma taglist. Are you guys even interested in the stories that you get tagged in? Or do you not want to be on the taglist? Because when I don’t even get a like, it makes me think the tags didn’t work (we all know how fickle tags can be.)

I know everyone has a life outside of tumblr I understand and I’m not holding it against anyone. I’d be the last person to do that.

But honestly? I’m considering not posting any stories on tumblr after April. I’ll still host the Choices April Monthly challenge, but if people aren’t interested in my stories or my pairings I don’t want to post any stories anymore.

It hurts me that some people on my perma taglist can’t even respond to the tags. Please be honest if you’re not interested, or due to the fact that you don’t have time or because of any other reason you can’t respond to my tags that’s okay, but please at least let me know. Because it takes me a long time to write stories and to even post them. So when people can’t even respond? Yeah not very nice.

English isn’t my native tongue. It’s one of the six languages I speak, so I know my stories aren’t the best. But I’m putting a lot of effort, time and passion into them. So it really hurts me when you can’t even respond. But then I see you reblog someone else’s story? It hurts me. A lot.

And to those who would like to be added to my tags list? Just let me know 😌

I know a lot of other writers feel the same way that their stories don’t get reblogged or even get any attention. And again I’m not pointing fingers. Just trying to understand.

I will also start removing those people from my taglist who don’t respond to my tags. Sorry but I can’t keep hoping you’ll respond and then only get hurt when you don’t.

In any case thank you to those beautiful people I’ve met and who have always supported me and my writing 💖 I can’t put into words how much that means to me!

Have a beautiful day / night 💖

Lots of Love

Peonierose

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Nightbound only:

@ladylamrian

[wander-over-the-words]

do you think, maybe when he gets a bit more comfortable of the idea of pursuing a relationship with our resident giant diving suit... would mister sinclair would wax poetic to delta in his mother tongue? hes a very chatty fellow, after all, surely he would have at least a spanish pet name or two to spare?

INHALES

No.

In my personal headcanon, there’re two occasions where Sinclair ever speaks Spanish at length. One of those is when he’s pissed off. like. he could kill a man just by looking at them kind of pissed off. And that’s because he’s taking advantage of the fact that they (most likely) can’t understand what he’s saying so he can insult them as he pleases (though, his dislike of cursing beyond ‘hell’ and ‘damn’ still stands even in Spanish cause he was raised to be a gentleman, so he’s mostly just calling the person an idiot and whatnot). Even then, it’s not really to their face, he’s doing it more just under his breath.

He’ll be packing his papers into his briefcase after a meeting with Ryan that didn’t go his way like “*grumble grumble grumble in Spanish*” “Until next time, Sinclair.” “YEAH GOOD GREAT BYE ANDY *grumble grumble grumble in Spanish*”

The other occasion that would have him speaking Spanish at length is if he’s addressing his late mother and/or grandfather. like if they’re ever on his mind or if he went and visited their graves.

He’d probably speak Spanish to someone he’s working with if they’re better at that than English, and I do enjoy the thought of him teaching Eleanor Spanish at her request (and Delta would absolutely sit in on some of those lessons, and not just so Sinclair can gesture at him like “This here is…?” and Eleanor can be all “Mi padre.” “AAAAnd…?” “Tu novio.” “AAAAnd…?” “Un hombre muy grande.” “Good job, honey.” “*proud Big Daddy noises*”)

Mostly, Sinclair has left his mother tongue behind him. He won’t allow himself to get rusty in it (if one were to look on his bookshelf, one might find a couple of books in Spanish) for the sake of his culture (if he ever forgot his Spanish, his grandfather would dig himself out of his grave and clip that boy around the ear), but it’s only on rare occasions that he uses it. He hasn’t spoken Spanish as his go-to language since he was a teenager. He’s not ashamed of people knowing English isn’t his first language - maybe when he was younger, but nowadays, he doesn’t give a shit - they just ain’t gonna hear him speaking anything else unless they piss him off. 

If someone played the “oh you know Spanish?? Can you say something in Spanish??” :D card, he’d smile extra wide, look them in the eye and say “No.” because he’s okay with translating something if someone needs it, but he very adamantly doesn’t perform his mother tongue for people

Funnily enough, the only times Spanish would pop up in their relationship would be because of Delta, not Sinclair

Delta would be fuckin PUMPED to learn Sinclair is bilingual. Like obviously he knows Sinclair’s from Panama cause he mentioned it, but it didn’t occur to him that that would mean Sinclair’s native tongue isn’t English. He’d hear Sinclair go on one of his Spanish rants (not at Delta he’d never do it to Delta nrnrgn just. someone bothered him idk) and just be like :0!!! :D!!!! cause like yeah sucks that Augustus is distressed but hot damn listen to that Spanish!! Just when he thought Augustus couldn’t get cooler, he learns he’s bilingual! How fucking cool is that! Augustus is just so cool! So clever! LOOK HOW COOL HIS BOYFRIEND IS

He’d do his big ol’ AWED BIG DADDY CROONING (“Don’t be cute right now, chief, I’m havin’ a crisis.”). Probably sit there like “psst…Augustus…speak more Spanish” :3c

If anything, Delta would want to learn Spanish so he could wax poetic to Sinclair in it (after being removed from his suit of course), which Sinclair would genuinely appreciate cause like?? damn chief you learned a language just so you could tell a dude who speaks that language how much you love him?? That’s cute as fuck he’s never had someone do that before

In the meantime, Delta would attempt waxing poetic by randomly asking Sinclair what something is in Spanish (and he'd get away with some of that because Delta usually gets away with shit that would bother Sinclair otherwise. Sinclair knows he means no offense). and it’s stupidly sweet stuff like. Walks up to him and points at his own chest and then at Eleanor’s Spanish textbook to communicate “what’s ‘my heart’ in Spanish??” 

“Mi corazón, chief. Why?” 

Then Delta just. puts his hand on him like “that’s you” 

“HA! Now, that was a smooth move. But as always - right back at ya, pumpkin~”

In canon, Sinclair says a total of one (1) Spanish word if you get him to, and that’s if you don’t take Simon Wales’s key straight after killing him; after Sinclair says his “I don’t have much air left” line, wait for a bit, and eventually Sinclair will call Delta up and say “You’re a…a tough hombre, chief. Get the key off him and - and use it to get into the Pump Control Room.” 

And that right there is the extent of Spanish he uses on a day where he isn’t angry, speaking to his beloved dead relatives, teaching Eleanor or answering Delta’s Spanish questions

[persephoneed]

ao3 fic tag game!

tagged by @nonamemanga @writerrose1998 @cosmic-lullaby @nouklea @therulerofallpotatos @insomniac1994 - thank you lovelies!! 🫶🏻✨

1. How many works do you have on AO3? 10! I think I used to have 20, but I orphaned a bunch of them

2. Whats your AO3 word count? 78,177

3. What fandoms do you write for? Currently, I only write for Wednesday (2022)

4. What are your Top 5 Fics by Kudos?

(Only linking my Wednesday fics. I don’t want to promote my old H*rry P*tter fics so I will name them, but not link them)

i was so ahead of the curve, the curve became a sphere

The Progression

even if it’s just pretend

you know that my train could take you home

no one can hurt you now

5. Do you repond to comments? Yes! I didn’t like 8 years ago, but I do now. I have met a lot of my friends through my comment sections, and I also just like to thank people for stopping by and sending me love!

6. What’s the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? Uhhhh no one can hurt you now is pretty angsty and bittersweet. I haven’t finished i was so ahead of the curve yet but rn it’s very angsty.

7. Whats the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? Lol probably you know that my train could take you home *wink* *wink*

8. Do you get hate on fics? No, I’ve been very lucky on ao3! I did one time like 10 years ago on fanfic.net and that wasn’t fun. I just sometimes get demands for updates which isn’t “hate” but I would appreciate some patience sometimes…

9. Do you write smut? I dabble on occasion! I definitely don’t feel confident in that department yet so it’s something that I’m still working on.

10. Do you write cross-overs? Not currently, no. I did one time a very long time ago.

11. Have you ever had a fic translated? No, I one time gave someone permission to translate The Progression (I think into Russian?), but I don’t think it ever happened.

12. Have you ever cowritten a fic before? I have not because I’m afraid of being an unreliable co-writer lol

13. What is a WIP you would like to finish but doubt you ever will? I will never finish my HP wips and I have made peace with that

14. What’s your all-time favourite ship? Wyler babyyyyy

15. What are you writing strengths? I have been told that I’m really good at writing yearning 🤌🏻 And AUs are kinda my thing

16. What are your writing weaknesses? *sigh* I’m a perfectionist so I’m incredibly slow. I will write and rewrite a paragraph to death before I can move onto another one. It’s just not an efficient way to work, and I’m trying to move away from it and let myself write and then edit later. Dialogue tags sometimes bewitch me.

17. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic? I respect and admire the hell out of anyone who writes anything in a language that is not their native tongue - all of you are rockstars! I only know English so I don’t see myself writing in another language (more than random words here and there anyway) unless I had a ton of assistance.

18. First fandom you wrote for? HP

19. Favourite fic you’ve ever written? i was so ahead of the curve fills me with immense pride, but I’m also overtly fond of even if it’s just pretend. I guess it’s a bit of a toss up. I also wrote (a loooong time ago) a semi smutty bodyswap HP fanfic that is so weird but I still love it haha.

20. What fic would you want to rewrite one day? I physically cannot allow myself to consider this as a real possibility lololol

Tagging (I’m trying to think of people I haven’t seen participate yet because I think so many already have!) @chaoticstupiddm @wednesdayandherhyde @katwitchwriting @onlyangelxo @leavesdriftinginthewind (if you don’t see yourself here and you haven’t been tagged yet please consider yourself tagged by me!)

[arcielee]

Interview With a Writer

Thank you so much @adragonprinceswhore for allowing me to pick your brain on this wonderful story and allowing me to continue this series! 💜 As always, Interview With a Writer is my ongoing series of the talented souls on Tumblr and ao3, and their brilliant writing!

Dividers by @saradika 💜

Name: adragonprinceswhore

Story: The Commune

Paring: modern Aemond Targaryen x Female!Reader

Warnings: 18+ MDNI. AFAB reader, she/her pronouns. This fic contains dark themes such as; descriptions of depression, manipulation, coercion, noncon/dubcon, and incest. Please mind the tags for each chapter.

So, when did you start writing?

Oh, just in September this year! I wrote my first fic and published it then, it’s called “Warm Me Up” 😊 But I’ve been obsessed since it aired last October and I’ve read miles of Aemond fanfic especially!

I’ve always been like a day dreamer, who needs a fantasy to escape to. I didn’t think I’d be any good at writing and avoided it for so long, but then I felt inspired and brave and thought I’d give it a shot. Fanfic really helped me last year when I had a pretty bad time mentally and I thought if someone would enjoy my stories like I’ve enjoyed so many others, I’d be happy!

What made you decide to start writing in English? Do you have any advice for budding new writers where English is not their native tongue?

I think I decided to write in English since I only read fanfics in English, there really isn’t a community in Swedish. Most Swedish people have high enough English literacy to read in the language, and being able to read and write in English opens up to so much more content. As for advice; I’d say read read read! Even if it’s just fanfics, there is so much talent among ff writers and so many lovely pieces to chose from!

I don’t think I would have been able to write without having read so much fan fiction in the last year honestly! I only ever read books in Swedish, or really boring text books and academic articles in English. So, reading has really helped me understand the tone that I enjoy reading in. And helped me understand how to describe and paint a picture for the reader.

I’ve had some time to practice writing in English though, I did both my bachelors and masters in English, but the papers I wrote in school were all boring academic papers.

But that did help me articulate myself and get my point across, something that I think might feel challenging when writing in a second language.

Where did the plot for The Commune come from?

Since I am new to writing, I thought I’d explore writing something darker (also cause Halloween was just around the corner hehe) but wanted it to be different from other stories I’ve read.

I studied politics in uni and was very focused on nationalism, identity and national identity. I think theories surrounding those concepts, like Benedict Anderson’s theory on ‘imagined communities,’ inspired me to write something about a secluded community, and then I thought of a cult.

And the idea works ‘cause Aemond (in canon, I mean) was brought up in a religious family, and I felt like the Seven would be fun to explore more, especially since the story takes place in a modern AU of Westeros.

And his personality really reflects other cult leaders, like Jim Jones (I used Jonestown as a bit of an inspiration for The Commune). Aemond is highly intelligent, calculating, persuasive, knowledgeable about the Seven, and authoritative.

Can you expand a bit more on your interpretation of Aemond. What drives him? Why is he the way he is in The Commune?

I’d say the trauma from losing his eye as a child drives him greatly, and that has both good and bad consequences. Like in canon, he utilises that when studying, and it’s implied that he is extremely intelligent, which I’d say is a result of his tedious work. The need to prove himself drives him greatly.

I also think he has a inferiority complex as a child that develops into a superiority complex as he gets older and praised for his amazing work in school.

So, he takes a natural role as the leader within The Commune (I mean, he’s the mastermind behind it) since he believes that he’s superior to everyone else, even those older than him (with more experience in life or in research). That is where the idea that he could be the father reincarnated comes from; his incredible intellect and how sure he is in everything he does.

Was there anything in specific that inspired your Reader portrayal?

I felt like some of us needed a relatable depressed girl whose too tired of her meaningless job to fight the manipulation.

But I guess I drew a lot of inspiration from real life, and having battled a bit with mental health issues, I utilised that. I wanted the ending to be a bit ambiguous; so that we don’t know if she chose to stay or if she was “brainwashed” into staying. So, she needed to be displeased with life from the start, otherwise she wouldn’t want to leave her career.

Plus, cults often pray on people like her: depressed and disappointed in life. So it felt fitting 😊

Do you think your Reader complements Aemond?

I’ve thought about it and in a twisted way, yes, I think she compliments him (or his delusions haha). He uses his scar and the trauma he went through as a child as a way to manipulate his followers, and having the girl who (he thinks) wronged him by his side as a devoted partner helps him further reinforce his agenda as this outer worldly leader!

That’s one more thing that drives him marrying her: he thinks she’ll help in his selfish goals of gaining more power.

So really, she complements his end game.

Were there any other characters in your story you enjoyed writing?

Oh yes, I loved writing Alys and Helaena! They’re only the two other real ‘actors’ in the story but it was so fun exploring how their characters would translate onto this dark, modern setting.

Helaena being depressed in King’s Landing and finding solace in the country where she can pursue a life without the stresses of modern society felt realistic to the way I interpret her character; someone who craves connection to nature (actualised through her fondness of insects) yet gets pulled away from that and thrust into the chaotic mess that is the Targtowers.

And Alys being this highly intelligent PhD student in phytotherapy; having vast knowledge on plants and ancient healing practices! Gets charmed by the young and confident political science student (Aemond) who promises a better life under a brand new philosophy.

Do you think you will do a sequel to this story? Or a new piece you might post?

Hmmm no, at least not at the moment! I like the way it ended and feel like I don’t have anything else to add that would elevate the story… but if inspiration strikes I’m not opposed to the idea!

I’m currently writing a series called ‘Rumours’ that I think people who enjoyed ‘The Commune’ might like; it’s not a dark!fic but there’s plenty of angst and drama 👀

Do you have a personal favorite fanfic you'd like to share?

I am beyond excited for more of @theoneeyedprince Tom Bennett story ‘As the World Burns’ and @humanpurposes modern!Aemond story ‘It Will Come Back’