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masonmontz · 2 months

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heey everyone, how are you? :)

REMEMBER: english is not my first language

smut (unprotected sex, praise) word count: 2,5k

✦‎۟ ࣭ ⊹

“Oh… fuck.” Mason groaned as he came and leaned his head against the cold wall from the locker room bathroom, while still making light movements in his dick. Mason got goosebumps, he really wanted it to be your hand there. “Fuck.”

It was torturous having you massage his leg in physical therapy, no one would understand how horny you made Mason. He had just played the first half and was left alone in the locker room to take a cold shower. He was horny for half the game and will be lucky if no one notices in the photos that his dick was hard as a rock.

He closed his eyes, his breathing quickening as he thought about the sight of your breasts on top of him during the afternoon. It was really hard to concentrate on the rest of the day while Mason was in such bad pain in his balls, he just wanted to get back to the hotel and get relief, but he couldn't take it anymore and had to go to the locker room shower, knowing that some players were outside.

All Mason wanted was to get between your legs and fuck you, fill your neck with marks and kisses and lose himself in your pussy. No one knew, but you and Mason used to meet up in the corners of Carrington, or he would show up at your house just to have sex and leave, and that was fine, you also showed up when you wanted to have sex and Mason was okay with that.

Mason just came, but he couldn't stop imagining your lips around his dick, you kneeling looking up at him, and he felt his cock getting hard once more. He looked like a horny teenager and knew he would only calm down when he could get his naughty thoughts about you out of his head.

It was so hot in the United States, Mason was upset to be going back to England in a few days. He knew he would be back in the rainy and cold weather and he would miss the warmth, especially since he saw you walking around the hotel in short clothes and that was not common in England.

“God, help me.” Mason begged the universe, but decided to get out of the shower, knowing that he needs to go back to the pitch and watch the rest of the match. He didn't hear anyone else talking and figured the players had left, so he wrapped the towel around his waist and even though he wanted to jerk off again, he decided not to.

You were taking the dry towels to the locker room, since the other players would be showering after the match and things needed to be organized. You were the physiotherapist, but sometimes you did a little bit of everything to make things easier for them.

As soon as you left the towels on the counter, the door to one of the showers opened and Mason came out with the towel around his waist. You were startled and tried to ignore the drops of water running down his body.

“Sorry, Y/N, I didn’t know you were here.” Mason spoke and you noticed he was red in the face and panting.

“Hey, is everything okay? Are you feeling sick?” You got closer and Mason's face got redder, you looked at his body to see if there were any notable injuries but the only thing you noticed was... that he was excited. “Oh.”

The bulge was straining against the towel, and you felt your own face turn red as you caught Mason in an indecent moment. It was inevitable and you bit your lips, feeling your mouth go dry as other thoughts crossed your mind. Wild thoughts.

“Please, help me.” Mason whispered, placing his hand on his cock and moving it up and down, still with the towel.

“Mason, we can't do this here, someone might come.” You scolded and approached him, looking back to see if anyone from the team was there. “Were you masturbating in the shower?”

“Because you had those boobs in my face during the pregame massage and I couldn't stop thinking about it. I spent the first half of the game so horny, it was hurting so much.”

“You're so stupid, why didn't you wait until you got to the hotel?” Mason grabbed you by the arm and pulled you against him, knowing you couldn't resist him.

“Because you're so fucking hot and all I thought about was fucking you the whole game, please I just came so hard, it felt like you sucked me off, I just want to cum again.”

Mason pulled your hand down to the bulge on his hip and you sighed, knowing he wasn’t going to give up. You and Mason were like fire and gasoline, you exploded when you were together. You got along well, and Mason was desperate to fuck you.

Who were you to say no, when you liked danger as much as he did?

You looked back at the empty locker room, but you knew anyone could walk in and that made you excited. Mason pulled you and took you to one of the showers, closing the door and pushing you against the wall.

“Mason, my clothes are going to get wet.”

“Shh, what's the difference if i'm going to make you wet too?” He ran his lips down your neck and pushed his body against you. The Manchester United uniform you were wearing was soft and so you could feel Mason perfectly. He took off his towel and threw it on the floor, and you drooled at the sight of his naked body, even though you had seen it many times before.

“Why are you so stubborn?” You pulled Mason's face towards you, so he kissed you. Mason is a good kisser, but your favorite kisses are when he's horny and wants to fuck you until your legs are shaking.

Mason slid his tongue across yours and his hands were already pulling at your shirt, so he quickly took it off and left you in just your bra. He was going to throw the shirt on the floor but you forbade it, so you held it and moved away to hang it on the wall. And to tease him, you turned your back and took off your pants, sticking your ass out for him and showing off the black lingerie you were wearing.

Mason liked to tease, but so did you, and he went crazy when you did that.

As soon as you set your pants aside, Mason grabbed you from behind and pressed his erection against you, and you moaned without realizing it, but Mason quickly placed his hand over your mouth to keep you quiet.

“You don't want someone to catch us here, do you?” You threw your head back as Mason pressed you closer, placing your head on his neck as he trailed kisses down your shoulders and slid his hands down your body, unclasping your bra and taking it off.

Mason ran his hand over your breasts then pinched your nipple, making you close your eyes and sigh, feeling the heat grow inside you. He was so good with his hands, with his mouth, that you were always surprised by the things he did to you.

“Don't mess with me then, I don't want to get caught.”

“What's the point if it's not dangerous?”

“Do your job, Mason.”

Mason laughed and turned you to face him, kissing you once more. Mason brought his hands to the middle of your legs and pressed your clit through your panties with his thumb, and you sighed, because Mason knows exactly where to touch.

You brought your hand to Mason's cock and made slow movements up and down, hearing him sigh and kiss your neck. Mason was so sensitive. You pressed the slit of his cock slowly and Mason squirmed, bringing his hand to yours and helping you with the movements.

“Yeah… fuck, this feels so good.” Mason grabbed your hand and pressed it against his cock, speeding up his movements and you felt it throb over your fingers.

Mason let go of your hand and pulled your panties down, quickly bringing his fingers to your wet entrance, sliding his fingers through the soft slit and you sighed, bringing your mouth to his shoulder to moan without anyone hearing.

Mason slid a finger inside you while you were still jerking him off, then you realized he was desperate and it was one of those days Mason didn't want games, just relief. You thought of him being turned on the whole game, in pain and wanting your hands or your mouth around his cock.

“Did you think about me while you were playing?” You asked softly and pulled his lip with your teeth, then stopped the movements with your hand around his dick and pushed him against the wall. Mason sighed because of the cold wall.

Mason inserted another finger into you and increased his movements, watching as you closed your eyes and bit your lip, then you lifted one leg and Mason held it, helping you stand as you brought your hands to his hair and pulled.

“All the fucking time.” He responded and kissed you, then Mason took his fingers out of you and brought them to your mouth, making you suck both fingers. Mason felt his own cock throb at the sight, imagining it was his cock in your mouth. “I just wanted to fuck you and feel that wonderful pussy.”

You grabbed his wrist and put it around your neck, making Mason squeeze you.

“Please just do this so I can get back to my work.” Mason raised an eyebrow and smiled, then turned you around so that your back was to him once more, placing you against the wall. You sighed as Mason pulled your hair and pressed his body against you, and you felt him bring his hand down to his cock and place it against your pussy, sliding and teasing you a little, until he thrust his entire length hard inside you.

You moaned loudly as he filled you, so Mason quickly brought his hand to your mouth so you wouldn't make any noise. He pulled your head against him as he made quick movements from behind and filled you so well. You rested your head on his shoulder, trying to hold on to the wet wall.

“Oh, Mason.” You tried to moan, even with his hand covering your mouth. You had your eyes closed and felt Mason's breath in your ear, sending shivers down your entire body as you heard him sigh too.

“I've waited so long to fuck you like this.” He brought his other hand up to your hair, pulling once more while with the other he tried to keep you still, but the sound of his hips hitting your ass was loud enough for anyone to hear. “Hm- yeah, so fucking good.”

Mason took his hand off your hair and slid it down your body, bringing it to your clitoris and making quick movements with his fingers. Having sex with Mason was good because he knew exactly what to do, because you spent time discovering each other's bodies the first few times.

“Oh god.” You mumbled against his palm, and Mason pulled out of you only to thrust in again. Mason made you bend over a little more, then he picked up your shirt that was hanging on the door and handed it to you.

“Bite this.” You did as he said, and Mason held your hips with both hands as he moved back and forth behind you, movements so fast just to cum and relieve himself of all the excitement that filled you both. “Yeah, good girl.”

You rolled your eyes, Mason knows you don't like it when he says that, but he does it to tease you and there's nothing you can do to make him stop. A heat ran through your body, and Mason was making clumsy movements, so you knew he was close to cumming again.

You bit your shirt harder, but it was no use when the sound of your skin touching was as loud as a moan. If anyone was outside in the locker room, they would know there were two people there.

Mason pulled you up again and pressed his chest against your back, he made a few more movements and when he held you against him tightly, you felt him cumming inside you. The orgasm exploded inside you and you felt your inner walls press against Mason's cock as you came at the same time as him, letting out sighs while still biting the fabric of your blouse.

“Oh, fuck, it gets better every time.” Mason whispered against your ear while you still felt him throb. You brought your hands to his neck, holding and removing the blouse from your mouth.

“I know.” That's what you managed to say, still trying to recover. Mason was holding you and that was probably what was keeping you from falling, as your legs were shaking like jelly.

Mason pulled his cock out of you and you felt the liquid dripping down between your legs. Mason brought his fingers between your legs and touched your sensitive clit, you gasped at his touch, but he just wiped some of what had dripped and ran it over your nipples.

“You look messy.” He chuckled softly and left a kiss on your hair, still behind you. You smiled tiredly at him, then pulled away a little and turned to him, putting your arms around his shoulder and giving him a calm kiss.

“It's your fault, I hope no one notices.” You grabbed your clothes and decided to put them on, knowing that you would soon go to the hotel and could take a peaceful shower, and who knows, Mason might join you again.

Mason picked up the towel on the floor which was now completely wet, but he didn't care and wrapped it around his waist again. He waited for you to put on your clothes and gave you another kiss, pulling you against him, then Mason quickly fixed your messy hair.

“There you go, no one knows that you had sex in the bathroom with number 7.”

“You like bragging about that number, don't you?” Mason smiled at you, shrugging. He gave you one last kiss and opened the door, checking to make sure no one was around to see you. Mason nodded and you quickly left, grabbing your slippers and running out, walking slowly and quickly checking yourself in a mirror, then you ran back to the physical therapy area, leaving Mason behind.

Mason shook his head and smiled to himself, and even though once again you just had sex, he liked you and he knew that if things continued like this, he could fall in love. He pushed the thoughts away, but he was already wondering what time he would show up at his room for another round.

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moondirti · 26 days

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Who from the 141 speaks the best arabic do you think? From one arab girl to another, it’d be so hot if any of them were fluent 🫠

if my memory serves me correctly, we get a bit in the first campaign from price. to me it seems to be a basic knowledge. a few sentences he picked up on the field and memorised to make his job easier. evac orders, cardinal directions, how to ask for water, food, medicine. that kind of stuff. pure utility, though that’s his approach to most things.

i like to believe (call it bias or whatever) that gaz is fluent. this ties in to my headcanon that he’s the only member who attended and graduated uni, but he strikes me as someone intensely curious about everything. introducing him to something, be it language or cuisine or a skill he hasn’t mastered yet, is like knocking down the floodgates. it’s his time in urzikstan that does it. hearing the way it rolls off farah’s tongue (let’s ignore doumit’s canon pronunciations), or how she’s able to translate a long, winding, clumsy sentence to something short. beautiful.

there’s a word for everything, he finds. one for the state of gossiping with your friends over morning coffee. one to congratulate someone on their cleanliness after a haircut. one that means may you be the one to bury me, for it would be unbearable to live without you – that is used so casually in conversation, kyle is stunned when he learns the true meaning. it doesn’t hold the same expectation, the same trepidation, as it does in english, though it retains its weight all the same. he wonders what makes a language so special that its intrinsic devotion has found a common place within its cultures, and he sets to find out.

this turns into a thing. more rambling under the cut.

the largest learning curve is the alphabet. the sounds that don’t exist in his mother tongue. he’s especially hard on himself when it comes to enunciating them properly – half the beauty is in the way words flow together, and there would really be no point in indulging in arabic’s more lyrical aspects if he’s off pitch. he gets the hang of it eventually, of course, one too many vocal exercises later.

the weathered dictionary he picks up at a second hand store teaches him that most words have three letter roots, and that it isn’t so easy as to look them up alphabetically. picking up new vocab becomes infinitesimally harder, then. for twelve million choices, the distinction between some words comes down to diacritical marks. necklace, decade, contract, held, complicated, and knots are all spelt the same way, yet pronounced ever so slightly different — a fact he learns the hard way when he tells the cashier at the kibbeh place he frequents that he likes her decade.

reading. reading is what helps him get over that.

(he probably should touch on basic grammar first — nouns, verbs, particles, sentence structure, that sort of stuff — but figures he'll pick it up as he goes, basing his methodology on an inability to remember any rules for the english language. he grew up hearing it, reading it, watching it, surrounded by it, so it just is what it is now. why work so hard on task books made for kids, then, when he can just get right into the meat of the matter? acclimatise through force.)

he picks up stacks of books upon books upon poetry. naguib mahfouz. ghada al-samman. al-mutanabbi. mahmoud darwish. it takes him a month to get through the first, and another month for the second. which only means he really takes his time with them, roving over the same line until it's etched into his memory. the cadence, the beats for pause, the way a word he has to punch from his throat is followed by one that lilts, all sing-songy. eventually, he starts to (inadvertently) mimic that sweeping manner of speech, employing it in contexts which certainly don't call for it.

the cashier — the very same one whose age he mistakenly stressed, despite the fact that she couldn't have been much younger than him — is far too nice to say anything about it, smiling instead, endeared, while he waxes poetic about meze.

farah calls him out immediately the next time they catch up.

apparently, no one speaks in classical arabic anymore, go figure. it would be like talking in shakespearean english, she tells him. he imagines it, iambic pentameter and all, and cringes, newly determined. his own research unearths (though it wasn't really a secret) the fact that there are roughly 25 different dialects belonging to different regions — and while some are pretty similar (syrian and lebanese), others could classify as a whole other language on their own (moroccan).

reddit tells him what he already knows; that the best way to learn is through exposure. there are no dictionaries for patois. and farah, despite her total enthusiasm at his interest, is far too busy of a woman to help.

(really, it just gives him an excuse to finally do what he's been meaning to.)

the next time he's craving kibbeh, he's fixed on not making a fool of himself when he asks the cashier out to lunch.

#originally supposed to be headcanon #now its a meet cute #pure self indulgence not sorry #kyle 'gaz' garrick #gaz #kyle garrick #kyle gaz garrick

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firstkanaphans · 3 months

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First of all wanted to let you know that I was in awe of your Eclipse translation. I love your fics in general. They are absolutely lovely (its a pun on your penname get it?)

Which brings me to my second point. I am currently translating a novella from one of my native languages to English at work. And I keep getting stuck. Do you have any tips on translation? What is your process like? Thank you!!!

Thank you so much!! I had a lot of fun translating that novel. If it wasn’t so time consuming, I would definitely do translations more often because it's a lot less stressful to transform someone else’s work than write your own.

Translating The Eclipse was a 3-step process for me, although it’ll probably be easier for you since you’re fluent in both of the languages you’re working in. Although I'm actively learning Thai, I'm nowhere near fluent enough to translate a 500-page novel without assistance. (Why are BL novels so unnecessarily long??) So Step 1 for me was to run everything through Google Translate. When Google inevitably spat out something incomprehensible, Step 2 was to comb through the original Thai and translate everything word-for-word. I didn’t bother correcting grammar or trying to edit things to make them sound good, I simply got a very basic translation down on the page. From there, Step 3 was to edit that translation into something worth reading.

I’ve always had a problem with Thai novels specifically because the official translations read like car manuals. They’re boring and lifeless and god bless those of you who can actually read them, but I just cannot. I spend the whole book editing it in my head. I don’t think this is the fault of the novels, though! The Eclipse, for instance, is beautifully written. I just think these publishers are hiring translators who aren’t also writers. For a good translation, you need someone who can do both.

For example, it’s very common in Thai writing to use epitaphs instead of names when talking about characters (i.e. “the small one,” “the older one,” etc.). This is rarely done in English because it sounds clunky, but it serves a purpose in Thai where characters are often using their own name as a pronoun and the writer may not want to repeat their name yet again in the dialogue tag. If I had stopped at Step 2 above (like a lot of BL novel translators do) and kept the epitaphs intact, English speakers would have had a difficult time reading the novel. I had to make some changes so that the magic and meaning of the original stayed intact, but the writing was also appealing to an English-speaking audience.

I enjoy editing at baseline and there’s something so satisfying about taking a lifeless paragraph and making it sing. Just as an example, here’s the first paragraph of The Eclipse novel without any changes:

The afternoon sun cast his shadow across the floor while Akk walked away from the building towards the Suppalo school gate. At this moment, that shadow didn’t seem as tall or long as him—the tallest male student in the Mathayom 4/1 class. The only thing that seemed to be the same was their shape, so thin it looked gangly.

And here’s what I translated it to:

The afternoon sun cast Akk’s shadow across the ground as he stepped out of the building towards Suppalo’s gate. At this time of day, his shadow was not nearly as tall as him—the tallest boy in his class. In fact, the only thing he and his shadow currently had in common was that they were both so thin they looked gangly.

It’s not a significant change, but it sounds much better. I think when some people make translations, they’re scared to change anything in deference to the original author, but I guarantee the original author would want you to change things if it makes their writing read the way it is supposed to. So I guess my biggest piece of advice to you would be to not be scared of putting a little of your own voice into the writing. Contrary to popular belief, translations do allow for some creative freedom as long as the original meaning remains intact.

I hope that helps! And good luck on your own translation. Like I said, it's time consuming, but worth it!

And since I’ve accumulated a surprising number of new followers since I originally translated the novel, here's a link for anyone interested in reading!

#the eclipse novel #the eclipse #asks

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jupiter-lemaris · 1 year

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Touch Starving

I never post here, but I have been lurking at the whump community for a while and decided invite myself to this party. English isn’t my first language, so I suppose the narrative may sound a bit inorganic. Despite, I hope you enjoy the text and I’m all ears to suggestions or corrections, if you have any.

Work lenght: 1,489 (a bit long for my first attempt, but I don’t know how to start by the easier things, sorry)

The scenery is mainly a spaceship’s cell.

TW: Imprisonment, non-consensual drug use, torture for information, syringes, touch starvation and manhandling. Also, the whumpee is female and the whumper is male, in case it’s upsetting for someone.

Naymeene couldn’t fully understand the captain of Armígera.

The terrifier bellic spaceship of Logmery was more something out of a legend than a real warning for most of the people in the Superregion, but Naymeene knew two things: the ship was damn real, and it usually didn’t take prisoners or spare survivors. The only reason why she was still alive was because the captain wanted an information from her. It took her all the effort and pride she had only to keep those words from him.

But he wanted to hear something, and if she wasn’t willing to speak, he would make her scream.

Almost every day.

She had no way of tracking the time, being imprisoned in a cell with no windows to the outer world, so she used to think in his “visits” like a daily appointment. If someone have told her that two years passed outside, Naymeene wouldn’t believe. It seemed so much more. But time hadn’t make Logmery easier to understand. At the first day, he broke her leg in front of her crew. Naymeene hated the fear in their desperated screams, forced to watch her being tortured, but she could understand that. There was no inocent soul in the Starpath Army, a captain like her surely know more than a thing or two about coercion and interrogation. In that moment, she was glad for not telling any of her crew what Logmery wanted to know.

Sometimes loyalty isn’t trustworthy. Someone would’ve say it already, trying in vain to keep her safe.

Then Logmery took her away, left her alone. He would come with the syringes and venoms, somehow fascinated by the prospect of testing his substances. He was a chemister with few opportunities to see his creations in work.

But not everything he did was intended to be painful. And that she couldn’t understand.

She had already bargained by her crew’s libertation. Logmery still was a sick sadistic bastard, but, sometimes, all he wanted to do was talking to her. They used to talk a lot in the beginning. They played games. That’s something they had in common, two players with risky bets to each other. One truth for another, he would say when he was willing to answer Naymeene’s questions as a payment for her answering his as well. But those games were in the past since she had won her crew’s liberty. Now he just stayed there, sitting in her cell, kind of bored. Looking at her with his light, always cold eyes, even when his faint smile seemed sincere.

(When had she seen a sincere smile from him?)

She looked at him with an ill-contained distrust, waiting for something.

(There was always something, wasn’t there?)

But nothing never happened. He talked irrelevances. Naymeene wouldn’t say a thing or would just yell spitefull swearings. It was infuriating how he could stay there, just talking, as if they were friends. Was it some weird manipulation technique? Being unable to presume if his visits were just for a calm talk or for a torture session still would be the death of her. The antecipation, the fear…

She still didn’t answer anything besides of occasional life threats.

(A hundred times she swore to bury a knife in his neck.)

But, even against her own will, she was getting used to Logmery’s proximity.

Fear can be tiring, and she lacked the strenght to feed the constant distrust and hate from before. Instead of attentiveness, she could only rest and wait. She wasn’t even listening to his words, but learned to accept this moments as something good, or at least better then the alternatives.

One day he surprised her, injecting an incolor liquid in her veins.

“Done. It’s the only thing for today. I needed to test this sedative.”

Most of his inventions turned her body in her own enemy, making it vulnerable and weak. He wouldn’t let her sleep when she wanted, and when she didn’t, he wouldn’t let her wake up. But hardly ever he would indulge her with something to diminish pain. Her body was light as a feather now, the white cell seemed endless and Logmery’s voice was a distant echo. Naymeene felt his touch and couldn’t force herself to back off.

“Come here”, he said, pulling her closer because even if she wanted, she could not obey. “I won’t hurt you today. I promise, Naymee.”

Naymee. Only one person called her that way, she always wondered why he imitated her. She always worried about what had happened with her. Had Logmery ripped it out from her lips with the same brutality dedicated to Naymeene’s interrogation? The mere thought was enough to send silent tears down her face, too exausted to hold them.

She would never leave that place, would she? Sometimes Naymeene almost forgot the reason why she was there.

Logmery passed her cuffled wrists upon his head, as if it were an embrace, and kept her closer with an arm behind her back. Naymeene couldn’t get away and wasn’t even sure if she wanted. There was a man she hated and despised, but the exaustion was such that she couldn’t think about escaping that cynic, disgusting hug. So she rested against his chest, the weight of the sedative threating shut her eyes.

“A truth for another?” Naymeene suggested, when those strange days became frequent. Her voice low and distant, but with her face almost buried in his shoulder, he was able to listen.

“What do you want to know?”

“Is this a scheme of yours?” It didn’t make sense. She wouldn’t start trusting on him just because in 2 years of imprisonment he spent 10 days at her side.

“Yes”, he said. “I’ll give this answer for free. I don’t have a yes or no question to you for now.”

As always, she was too debilitated to voice her anger. Later she could even feel a little betrayed, then she would repreend herself for this incoherent, stupid feeling.

“It’s not gonna work.”

“Shhh... Too early to know.” His voice was tranquilizing, or that’s how she heard it. It was an unusually dificult day. He caressed her hair. “You look tired, Naymee. You should sleep. It’s safe, I promisse.”

She hated waking up the other day (maybe?) and notice that she really had slept embracing the bastard. His eyes were shut, but he certainly wasn’t sleeping. Naymeene looked to her cuffles temptinly near his neck... Then a hand touched hers and he smiled. “Don’t try anything stupid.”

Naymeene hated him. But somehow learned that his presence was a steady event.

She wasn’t used to waking up in a furnished room, no cuffles and no Logmery nearby. The first moments were startling.

(Were was she?!)

The disorienting place made her heart race.

(Something is wrong. Something is wrong.)

“Naymee?” Irsa’s voice had nothing but pure worry, so why did it crawl over her skin with the intensity of electricity? (Someone called her like that, some sick bastard.) Irsa held her shoulders, trying to draw her attention. “Did you have a nightmare?”

(Was it still a nightmare if the scenes once were real?)

Slowly, Naymeene let go Irsa’s wrist, that she grabbed in a defensive reflex. Her hands were still trembling. Her back hurt, she didn’t lie in the bed because of her refuse to sleep. The weariness had won once again. Despite wanting to apologize for scaring Irsa, the only thing she could do was covering the eyes while her heart tried to normalize its rhythm.

Irsa sit by her side. (Too close... Too close...) The last thing Naymeene wanted. Irsa knew about the tortures. She was there in the first day, when Logmery broke Naymeene’s leg. But she didn’t knew about the moments of calm. For some reason Naymeene couldn’t understand, she felt ashamed. Even if she was drugged at those times, talking about it would be admitting a vulnerability she despised. She didn’t want Irsa (specially Irsa) to know she had been so weak to the point of taking comfort in the proximity of a maniac like Logmery.

Irsa asked naught. She just held Naymeene’s hand, but her voice betrayed the uneaseness when she said:

“You’re not there anymore, Naymee.”

“I think I’ll never get out of there…”

“Do you want to talk?”

“No, please... I’m ok, i’m just... tired…”

Irsa hadn’t left her alone since they were reunited. They didn’t know each other for too long (actually, it was for long. She missed years while imprisoned.), but she was grateful for the loyal company. Naymeene would go insane with each small noise if left alone in a room. (Not yet... Still too soon.)

As always, Irsa made her lie in the bed and stayed by her side. The lights turned off. Naymeene almost could relax. Then Irsa said omething that made her tense once again.

“You can sleep now, Naymee. You’re safe, I promise.”

That night, Naymeene stayed awake.

#whump fic #whump writing #not a prompt #my writing #whump community #Lady whump #touchstarved #caretaker #whumpee #whumper #manipulative whumper #non native english speaker

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daisannokagi · 10 months

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Harukanaru Toki no Naka de 4: Mizuho no Kuni - Character Tracks (Pt.2)

Japanese Title: 遙かなる時空の中で4~瑞穂の国~

Disclaimer: I only own the translation. Everything else is Koei’s/Ruby Party’s. I tried to keep the meaning as intact as possible, but I also took some creative liberty here and there. Also, do note that English and Japanese aren’t my native language. Translator’s note will be put at the end of the post.

Previous post is here. Here’s the rest of the character tracks! I’m giving a certain man the most criminal, bombastic side eye because he sure as hell deserved it (you know who you are). Surprisingly enough, that man is also one of the easier ones to translate and tbh I’m not even sure why. Overall, though, I’ve had the most fun with Hiiragi and struggled with Sazaki, Asvin, and Ribhu. As usual, the events ranges from near the end of the common route to before the character’s ending, so beware spoilers.

Translation will be below the cut. Hope you enjoy it!

Wedding Garments ~Asvin~

Magatsuhi-no-Kami have disappeared, and though we still have a mountain of things to do, it sure is nice to see your own land prosper.

Hmm? What is it? You look happy. Oh, you saw the nuptials.

A wedding… dress? I see, is it similar to the ceremonial outfit worn in your world? Your face, my dear, is telling me you want to wear it. Then I shall give it to you. Is it not the duty of a husband to give his wife the things she desires?

And…? You'll feel bad so there's no need to…

That's nonsense. You don't need to hold back. I like being depended on by you, after all.

Once everything settles down, let's hold another nuptials, just the two of us. Not just in Nakatsu, I want to once again make a vow to spend the rest of my life with you in this land of Tokoyo.

(kiss)

I love you.

At the End of Remembrance ~Kazahaya~

A new stream of time is flowing in this world that was once annihilated by the White Dragon.

I threw away my past as a god and walked as a human in Kashihara. If I continue through this path, I will eventually meet her. But even if she saw me, she wouldn't know who I am, as she doesn't have any memory of me in this newly born world. But even so, I keep walking, so I could meet her once again.

My heart longs for her.

This heart of mine is the one thing that even the gods couldn't take away from me. My memories of the days I spent with her are my most cherished possession. If I have this heart, these memories, with me, there is nothing more that I fear. Even if you no longer remember me, my heart will guide me to where you are.

Princess, if I could meet you again, I would stay by your side.

Forever.

The Trait of a Ruler ~Oshihito~

Wrong. First, bow to the right side, turn around, and bow to the left side. Just how many times do I have to tell you before you understand? We only have a few days left before your coronation. If you're already struggling from the start, I'm worried about the rest of the procession.

And no, you don't have any time to feel down. Start again from the beginning.

Do you think learning etiquette is not important?

Your coronation will be the center of attention. You're someone who would be a queen. You have the qualities to become one. Everyone who fought by your side would've known that. But those who didn't would only look at how you behave before criticizing behind your back that you're someone unfit to be a queen.

I don't want to see you be treated that way. I don't want you to be hurt by something as nonsensical as that.

Let's take a break. I'll bring you some cold water.

Feeling relieved now, are we?

We'll continue our training once I get back.

Dreams of the Sky ~Sazaki~

We did it, Princess! Thanks to you, that large snake disappeared. And with that, the world is at peace once again! Let's say goodbye to this place and go back home. I'll carry you, so hold on tight!

Haha! Just who do you think I am? Finding everyone and getting them out is a piece of cake for me. Well, I was a bit worried about how it'd end, but I'm glad I did just as you told me.

Everyone is safe, and my wish is granted.

My wish? Uh… Well, you see… How do I say it…

(cough)

Well, ever since you picked up my enchanted feather, flying… while holding you in my arms… has always been one of my wishes. Looking back, you've given me so much.

But! I'm a pirate. It's nowhere near enough. Prepare yourself, Princess, I'll be taking a lot more from you.

At the Tatara Furnace ~Ribhu~

Ouch!

Maybe I raised the temperature too much. But I'm glad the application seems to be going well. It will take some time until it's complete, but with this trebuchet, His Highness's battles should go more smoothly.

Even as someone as powerless as me, I can still be of use with my knowledge. I couldn't be any happier than this.

Now that I think about it, when I met the Second Princess at the tatara furnace, she looked sad when she realized this is a weapon that can only be used in wars.

Well, seeing as she's someone who doesn't even shun her enemies, I guess that's to be expected. She's going through a difficult time because of a war she never wished for, but even so, she never gave up on what lies beyond it. And that is precisely why I want to reach out my hand and help her.

Hmm, I think that should do it for the preparations.

I'll be on my way to assist you, Second Princess.

I'll be more than happy if you decide to look my way. When that happens, I'll make sure to wave my hand as hard as I can. Though I don't think I could keep my composure...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

(important) Translator’s note:

Nuptials: A person's marriage and marriage celebrations (Cambridge Dictionary)

Kazahaya's 2nd to last line is actually 姫、そして再び出会えたとならば、俺はもう二度とあなたのそばから離れません, so I contemplated on using "I would never leave your side again" for the latter half of the sentence, but using the word "again" twice in the same sentence felt kinda weird so I just used the current "I would stay by your side", which hopefully conveyed a similar enough meaning.

Sazaki's track title is 空翔ける夢, which I think can be picked apart like this > 空（を）翔ける夢. If so, the meaning would more or less be "dreams of flying/soaring in the sky", hence why I chose "Dreams of the Sky". I do hope I got the meaning right so uhh if you have any suggestions, ideas, or corrections feel free to leave a comment or reply.

Omake:

used jikuu (read: toki) for extra oomph

how do u hime-san? missus? missy? m'lady? ma'am? princess?

why am i spending so much time looking at the differences between catapult & trebuchet (read more about it here and here)

Plus not so important tidbit about kazahaya’s track (contains major spoilers of the game, feel free to skip this section, i just want to rant lmao):

Disclaimer: I know the drama cd is released after the game and this is probably unintentional on Koei's part but LMAO I just find it really funny. Also I just can't skip on the opportunity to dunk this man lol (affectionate)

KAZAHAYA I AM LOOKING AT YOU YOU’RE ON A THIN ICE!!! Fun fact about this track: this man is lying through his teeth. Did you notice how he said:

Even if you no longer remember me, my heart will guide me to where you are. Princess, if I could meet you again, I would stay by your side. Forever.

THIS, MY FRIEND, IS A LIE. At the end of his true route, after Chihiro & co defeated Hakuryuu, it made a whole new timeline outside of the loop. In the new timeline, Kokuryuu didn't try to destroy the whole world and Hakuryuu didn't interfere much with the human world, which means Kazahaya isn't needed in the new timeline and everyone's memory of Kazahaya is gone. Tokoyo didn't attack Nakatsu, Ichinohime and Habarihiko are alive, the world is at peace. But it's missing Kazahaya.

One day, Chihiro was walking around Kashihara when Kazahaya showed up in front of her. Kazahaya, knowing that Chihiro also lost her memory, just spouted some pleasantries and continue on his way.

NOW THIS IS WHERE THINGS GET SPICY

You get a set of choices here. You can choose to remember him, in which case you'll get a CG and happy ending, OR you can choose to not remember him. Do that, and you can watch how Chihiro was distressed because she couldn't remember Kazahaya and Kazahaya leaving her because he didn't want to see her sad.

... kazahaya wtf ?????????????? i thought you wont ever leave her again what happened to that promise?????????????????? what about never leaving her side ever again????????

#harukanaru toki no naka de 4 #遙かなる時空の中で4 #harukanaru toki no naka de #遙かなる時空の中で #trishatranslates #drama cd translation #haruka4 #harutoki4 #遙か4 #はるよん #瑞穂の国

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gt-prep · 1 year

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Top 5 Preparation Methods for IELTS Exam Success

The IELTS (International English Language Testing System) exam is a standardized test of English language proficiency for non-native speakers. It's the world's most popular English language test, with more than 2 million people taking it each year. In this article we have given brief details about Top Preparation Methods for IELTS Exam Success, you can check out.

Top 5 Preparation Methods for IELTS Exam

Strategy 1: Practice Tests

Practice tests are a great way to prepare for the IELTS test. They give you an idea of how you will perform on the exam, which helps you improve your skills and knowledge of English. Practice tests also help get used to the format of the test so that there aren't any surprises when it comes time for your real IELTS exam day!

Strategy 2: Learn the Grammar Rules

The second strategy is to learn the grammar rules of the English language. This is an important part of your preparation for IELTS and will help you improve your scores in both Listening and Writing tasks. The reason why learning these rules is so useful is that they help you understand how words are used together in a sentence, which can make it easier for you to understand what someone else is saying or writing--which is exactly what happens in real-life situations!

· Grammar isn't difficult to learn at all! In fact, there are only about 100 different types (or parts) of grammar that exist in any language like French or German too! So don't worry too much if it sounds complicated at first because once we start talking about each one individually then everything falls into place very quickly :)

[Read More: Quick Tips to Solve Difficult IELTS Speaking Cue Cards]

Strategy 3: Learn Vocabulary

The IELTS exam is a test of your ability to use English, so it's important that you be familiar with the vocabulary you'll encounter. If there are words you don't know, learn them! There are many ways to do this; we'll look at three of them here: flashcards, apps, and books.

Strategy 4: Take Practice Tests

Practice tests are by far the most effective way to prepare for your IELTS exam. In fact, I would say that practice tests are more important than any other preparation method and should be used as part of your overall strategy.

This doesn't mean you should ignore grammar rules or vocabulary lists; those things can still help you improve your score on an individual test question-by-question basis (i.e. when you get stuck on a particular question). What it does mean is that if you want to get better at answering questions in general--and thus increase your total score--then taking many practice tests is a must.

Strategy 5: Don't Try to Solve Everything at Once

It's tempting to try to learn everything at once, but this can be overwhelming and cause you to forget what you've learned. Instead, break down the test into smaller chunks by focusing on one thing at a time. Start with the most important things first (such as common words or grammar rules) and then move on from there.

Taking practice tests and learning the grammar rules of English are two of the most important preparation methods for IELTS exam success.

There are a variety of ways you can prepare for your test, but these two methods will give you the best results:

· Practice tests allow you to experience what it's like taking an actual test and learn how your brain responds in those situations. You'll also get used to answering questions under pressure while dealing with other distractions such as fatigue or nerves. This will help prepare you mentally when taking an actual exam day!

· Learning grammar rules are essential because they help improve writing ability by explaining how words should be used together in sentences. It's important that students understand these concepts before writing essays on their own because mistakes can cost them points!

Conclusion

It's important to remember that there is no right or wrong way to prepare for the IELTS exam. What works for one person may not work for another, so it's worth experimenting with different methods until you find what works best for you. Check out our IELTS Coaching by experts to crack a high score.

#IELTS test preparation tips #Top 5 Preparation Methods for IELTS Exam #5 Best IELTS Tips to Improve Your Score #Top Tips & Tricks for Taking the IELTS #IELTS preparation methods

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icaruskeyartist · 2 years

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I posted 6,350 times in 2022

That's 5,921 more posts than 2021!

2,977 posts created (47%)

3,373 posts reblogged (53%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@happysadyoyo

@yharnamsnewslug

@thefeistydragon

@fanarchoslashivist

@delgado-master

I tagged 1,382 of my posts in 2022

#morg - 177 posts

#hp knock off - 84 posts

#transandrophobia - 69 posts

#icarus liveblogs lightlark - 67 posts

#constellations - 58 posts

#word count - 34 posts

#the sixth sense liveblog - 31 posts

#brier - 30 posts

#solar lunacy - 27 posts

#tumblr story - 27 posts

Longest Tag: 140 characters

#basically every time i turn around i just see that the purge is real and i'm uncomfortably remembering when people made fun of the franchise

My Top Posts in 2022:

Most trans women don’t have to worry about becoming pregnant accidentally or forcibly and be forced to deal with either A. no access to abortive services B. being forced to out yourself to have access to abortive services or C. be forced to detransition because your testosterone is a risk for the fetus and you aren’t allowed to abort or chose not to.

So like. Transandrophobia is a thing. This is transandrophobia. Fucking shut up.

860 notes - Posted May 16, 2022

hi, the more widely accepted short form of non-binary is enby. nb is appropriative of AAVE as it has stood for non-black long before it stood for non-binary. just to let you know since you are planning to call a book NB.

This is... this might be the funniest moment in my fucking life. I was literally just talking to @nothorses about this exact conversation I had read a bit ago.

First, I'm going to link to @transgentleman-luke's post on the subject of nb discourse.

Secondly, nota bene or nb for short, has been in use since 1711, whereas nonblack originates roughly around 1961. I have to admit I heard of nota bene when in high school and still use it a lot because I got in the habit while I was still being a pretentious little shithead.

So if we're really going to go with where it started being used first, nota bene has everyone beat out.

And if I want to be really pedantic, nonbinary as a word (not necessarily a gender label) has been around since 1863. I'm very willing to bet that nb was used as shorthand for the term in some form. I just don't have the time or energy to go dig into it more but trust that humans have always been humans about shit.

Thirdly:

The book isn't called NB. It's Nature Boy, and I use shorthand to make it easier to see the full title in Drive.

Finally, not all nonbinary people like to be called "enby."

Acronyms and shorthand can mean multiple things. This ask, while I'm sure is well-intentioned, carries the same energy as the blockheads who think that because trans men are defending themselves from two black people over a nearly year long harassment campaign they (the trans men) are racist.

Since you don't come across with an aggressive tone, I am willing to believe you're not one of those blockheads. And while I do think there is a troubling trend of AAVE getting appropriated into common vernacular without recognition of its origins or consideration of how it's socially acceptable for white people to "borrow" from black culture but black people have to code switch in order to be taken seriously (admittedly from a USAmerican mindset here), nb is not an appropriation of AAVE language.

Ninja Edit to Add: Anon, I say this sincerely, did you stop to think how English mouths say “enby?” It’s nb. So enby isn’t really a good replacement either, regardless of everything else.

1,095 notes - Posted February 21, 2022

I like slapping Irreversible Damage in TERFs faces because, I mean, look at it:

I’m a graphic designer. I have a double major in it and printmaking, therefore I am especially qualified to comment on this. Want to know why I switched over to printmaking and book arts as my primary major? Because commercial graphic design is propaganda and I decided I didn’t feel comfortable by that point working for capitalism.

Like man, my entire life has revolved around books and writing. I just wanted to make good covers.

Anyway. Here we have a cover of a little white girl with her womb cut out. The title is literally Irreversible Damage. You literally cannot in good faith look at this book cover and tell me that Abigail Shrier isn’t talking about little white girls losing the ability to make little white babies.

If you can honestly, in 100% good faith look at this cover, look at this title, and tell me otherwise, I’ll call you a liar and block you on sight. Because I have a high tolerance for idiocy but not that.

1,295 notes - Posted March 7, 2022

Can we also discuss the fact there’s a minority of people who aren’t “AFAB” who are still capable of getting pregnant?

Or are we going to keep using this as a new, cooler binary to try and talk about “women lite”

1,551 notes - Posted May 16, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

TERFs don’t want to save trans men and AFAB nonbinarys who don’t look like GNC women.

The want to detransition us, force us to accept our “role” as women, make us proud of the parts of ourselves that often make us the most uncomfortable in our own skin.

If the trans person in question is white, they want to use our wombs to produce more white babies. Because don’t forget, you can never part the racist from the sexist.

And if someone’s too far gone, if they’re too loud and brash and wield their words like a baseball bat. If they can’t be silenced, then they want to kill us. Demean us, dehumanize us, use us as a warning to younger, closeted trans people.

Look at them. Look at what testosterone has done to their bodies, the personalities, their souls. You don’t want to be like that, do you?

TERFs say the want to save us. They don’t.

They want to kill us.

4,545 notes - Posted February 13, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review

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rcksmith · 3 years

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Be mine — Roman Godfrey

Requests: “Helloo, I would like to request an imagine of roman Godfrey with smut prompt 28”

“Hii, omg I lover your work!! Can you do fluff prompts 45 and 59 and smut prompts 32 whit Roman Godfrey? Thank you, love💖”

Fluff prompts:

45. “where have you been all my life?”

59. “Are you flirting with me?” “You finally noticed?”

Smut prompts:

28. “Such a needy little thing, aren’t you?”

32. “I’m going to show you what a real fucking is.”

A/N: I was excited about these request for Roman, I loved it. I hope you guys like.

English is not my first language, so I so sorry if have a mistake.

Requests are open. Love you ❤️

Couple: Roman Godfrey/ Fem! Reader.

Warnings: Swearing, explicit smut, NSFW, degradation, dirty talk and also fluff too.

— — — — —

The big white and airy room tried to show a soothing and safe energy, the light tones contrasted with the golden rays of the sun outside and could even try to show a lyrical vibe. Could, if not for everything else.

It was hard to pinpoint the source that messed up that whole idea of peace that the colors on the walls had, but maybe it was because Godfrey Industries was... oblique, mysterious, sinister. There was something in the air, a dark breeze that echoed all the floors of that gigantic building, bringing the feeling that something was out of place. It was, at times, disconcerting. Like looking at a perfect painting but knowing that something is out of place. Or to witness the seconds of frightening calm before a major disaster. But as the months went by, you had to get used to it and adapt to it. Your daydreams wandered far away. You wondered what you were doing there, in that country town that also had that sinister energy.

Why you left Los Angles? Okay, did you know why. After finishing college, you sent out resumes to as many companies as you could. Its from that time when you realize that adult life has knocked on the door and that the cost of living in California was too high. The plan, when you left home to pursue your dream and go to college in another state, was to get a job as soon as possible. But some things got out of your control, and when you realized it, you had graduated and you didn't have enough money to come up with second plans.

So, when the multinational Godfrey Industries called you after an interview and gave you the job, you didn't hesitate. The salary was too good for a international negotiations assistant, and after a while you could breathe easier, and be able to straighten out your financial life and have a better resume to be able to get back to a big city.

It was a good plan, a rational plan. You were proud of that. But it was logical that too much confidence was accompanied by some ruin.

And its ruin came under the name of Roman Godfrey.

Roman was swallowed all the air in any the room when he entered, as if its imposing presence subdued any environment. Everything about him exuded the same objective: to conquer, to possess, to win. He was the Trojan army. But the worst and the most dangerous was not his difficult personality, but how you felt close to him. How his presence caused side effects on you.

He was absolutely gorgeous. It should be considered illegal for someone to have that appearance, that voice, that sinisterly penetrating look. You felt that Roman Godfrey had the aura of intense and exciting music, like the song of danger.

He was the personification of sin, and you were being tested by the universe.

The trinity of what could be a gigantic disaster was completed when, a few months ago, Roman started testing you, joining the universe in what appeared to be a plan to slaughter your sanity.

It was your first meeting with the Company a few weeks after you was hired. Adam, the director of the international negotiations sector, for whom you are an assistant, asked you to bring all the documents of the process and remain in the meeting. It was about an international multi who wanted to buy some equipment from Godfrey Industries, but who were working hard to try to close deals at a lower price.

As you handed a copy of the negotiation to each sector director in that room, you felt a pair of eyes burning the back of your neck the whole time, like your shadow. The caustic sensation ruffled all the hair on the back of your neck, snaking from head to toe and made you search the environment behind the author.

That's when you finding him.

Roman had the green irises stuck to you like a tattoo on your skin. As if unraveling all your secrets, your sins, virtues and all your thoughts. It was intense, magnetic... dangerous.

You felt the white walls of that room were embraced by a black and dark shadow, and the air became thin. Then he smiled. A smug and arrogant little smile. The kind who won a battle.

It had been the beginning of a sequence of events. Roman began to request and make sure that you were present at all meetings, negotiations, cases, even when your presence added much more to your professional knowledge than to contribute to the resolution of company problems. At that time the order was still not directed at you, Adam just told you that Godfrey wanted you at meetings.

It was strange, atypical, almost surreal. You used to go into the conference room and look directly at Roman, frowning in silent questioning at him. But he never gave you an answer. He just gave that smug smile and turned his attention to the big screen in the living room.

This happened five times before Roman sent to tell you that he wanted to see you in his office.

“But why?!" You frowned at Adam.

The man looked at you for a second before shrugging.

“Your work has been impeccable, I think he just wants to give you more things to do.” Adam kept his eyes on the documents themselves.

"But you are my boss.” Sometimes you had a habit of saying what you thought without considering the consequences.

Your mother and your friends said that you had a total inability to hide what you felt, to be someone reserved or shy. You were almost always the person who said everything you felt.

Adam laughed softly, already used to your personality and turned his eyes to you.

“And he is my boss."

You restrained yourself from rolling your eyes. The truth was, you didn't want to find him. Roman puzzled you, messed with your system. And after those 5 meetings without explaining why you were there, you started to want to avoid his presence.

But apparently the universe was not on your side this time.

You got up and excused yourself, listening to your own heels echoing down the hall before entering the elevator and pressing the last button. Going to Godfrey's office.

Anxiety coursed through your veins like overwhelming electricity, making you sway on your heels and stir your fingers.

What did he want with you? Had you done something? Was he crazy?

You sucked in the air hard, shrugging your shoulders to relax when the door opened up. You walked for a while before stopping at Roman's office and knocking on the door with your finger.

“Come in." The voice made your heart skip a few beats.

You walked in, closing the door behind you and laying your eyes on the tall, slender figure who was sitting behind the table, dressed in black pieces and a small smile.

“Did you want to see me, Mr.Godfrey ?"

Maybe it was your imagination or your nervousness that was seeing things in between lines, but you could have sworn that Roman breathed harder after you said his last name.

You stopped in front of his desk, too agitated to sit on the chair.

“Yes, Darling.” He stood up, getting much bigger than you, even though your feet were in a 10 cm heel.

Roman fished a file on the table itself, bypassing the table and coming menacingly close to you. He stood in front of you again, his hip against the table and leaning there, holding out the file for you. You took seconds longer than you would like to pick up the papers, Roman's left leg was dangerously close to yours, the knee almost brushing your thigh covered by the black skirt.

“I need it ready by night."

That's when you came out of the trance, picking up the folder and staring at the amount of stuff there. It was a process about an agreement with a company in Asia, and it was so bureaucratic that it would take up your entire time. And you already had a million things for do.

“But...” You were about to start talking, but Roman moved away from the edge of the table, his chest hovering over yours.

You have never felt so small, so fragile and so vulnerable in your life. You had to lift your chin to face him straight.

“You are going to be a good girl and bring me this tonight.” It was not a request. “You will, right?”

Your common sense or decorum had gone somewhere. Maybe was lost in your own stupidity. The oxygen evaporated from your lungs. And before you could think of something diplomatic and good to say. Because you were not dumb. You heard yourself say:

“Yes, Mr. Godfrey.”

Fucking hell!

“Great.” He gave you a rewarding smile.

From that moment on events like this became routine. In fact, you tried to mask that you liked it, that it wasn't extremely unprofessional, that he was not only your boss, but also the owner of the entire company. Over time you learned to deal with him too, Roman was never brazen or touched you, he would drop some ‘Dear’ or ‘Pretty’ over and over here for you, but, truth be told, you didn’t get uncomfortable.

Perhaps it was your feminine vanity. You didn't want to be selfish, but having a man like Roman Godfrey praise you did wonders for your feminine vanity. You felt absurdly beautiful. He made you feel like the personification of the Female Fatal, and you liked that. So you would roll your eyes at him and give him some jokes smiles in his direction whenever these things happened.

You did not deny it, but you also do not return any praise.

Over the months you had practically become more of an assistant to Roman than to Adam. He kept you getting bogged down with things to do and telling Adam to pass on your old duties to any other goddamn person.

“They accept to close if they have had 30% of the profits.” You put your cell phone down to talk to Roman, who had his hip against the desk work and an open file in his hands.

“They must be stupid” he rolled his eyes “10% and I will still be being generous.”

You went back to your call, your eyes fixed on the top view of the city as you settled the deal.

“I can get them to close by 15% if we send the equipment by tomorrow.” You said to Roman again, plugging the cell phone microphone with your other hand “But it has to be send until the morning. Not next.”

Roman smiled broadly and satisfied, nodding his head in ‘Yes’ as you turned your attention to the city view and finished the negotiation. You were getting the details right when you felt a presence behind you, the heat radiating for your back and making you lose your breath for a second. You swallowed and tried to ignore something vibrating in your core, disconnecting the call as soon as you closed the deal.

“What would I do without you?” Roman's voice blew at the top of your ear, his ghostly touch fanning your skin.

You laughed to try to hide how much your core pulsed, turning around enough to face his completely.

"I don't know, you would have already lost four contracts.” You tried to joke, but he was absurdly close.

The scent of a man and an expensive cologne swallowed you like a wave and dragged you into the sea, drowning you. The emerald green eyes were fixed on you, as if they swallowed you.

“You could work for me.” Godfrey let go, taking another step closer to you.

Instinctively, you took a step back, your back finding the cold glass behind you and trapping you between the cold sensation and the absurd warmth of the man.

"I already work for you.” You said it as if it were obvious, letting out a nervous laugh and trying to clean up how much your uterus vibrated now.

“No, you work more with Adam.” He rolled his eyes, his hand now resting on your hip, rising to your waist like a snake “I speak of you being my assistant, being here when I arrive, spending the all days with me.”

Your heart screamed, your pussy throbbed so hard that if Roman hadn't paid attention to you, you would have bitten your lip.

“Are you flirting with me?”

"You finally noticed?"

There was no way to deny to yourself that you had already reached your share of perverted dreams with Roman Godfrey. He was like an addiction! It was unbearable how present he was always in your head, playing with your sanity, making you think of how those absurdly long fingers would fuck you so well, how those impeccable clothes hid a maddening body.

And that was exactly why you couldn't be him assistant.

If it was already overwhelmingly difficult to occasionally remain in him presence without diverting your thoughts, every day would be impossible. All the time. You would end up having to resign your job after, because any involvement between you would not result in a happy ending. Aside from being extremely unethical, it would end up destroying your heart, and God, you needed the job!

"M-Mr Godfrey." You tried to speak, touching his chest with the palm of your hand with the intention of gently pushing him away.

But the shot backfired. He was cold. Absurdly cold. Cold that makes you want to warm up, an addictive, that intoxicates you. Suddenly, you are already wondering if other parts of it would be cold too.

Would the kiss contain the beauty and temperature of the snow? When Roman entered you, would he be consumed by the heat of your needy walls? He Would it stick to you like a private sun?

“Pretty.” Godfrey sighed against your cheek, dangerously lowering his lips in your direction. “Why not stay with me? Where can I fuck you every day? ”

This time you moaned, a low moan that gave up all of your game. It lit a dangerous, vital fire in Roman's eyes, and him hand, which once touched you softly, now snaked into your waist, pulling you close.

“Do you like to hear that? That I want to fuck you until you scream?” You closed your fingers on him black dress shirt, closing your lip between your teeth to contain a groan.

Roman's mouth went to your neck, pouring wet, surprisingly hot kisses onto your skin.

"Would you like to know that I have imagined fucking you hard for a long time?” His hands went to the hem of your skirt. “That I want to tag you with my cum until you're just mine?"

“Mr.Go-Godfrey!” You moaned loudly, wrapping your arms around his neck and letting your head go back and lean against the glass wall.

“Tell me, Pretty.” He lifted his lips to hover over yours “Tell me you want this as much as I do.”

You frantically ascended your head, letting a 'Yes' leave with a low sob.

Thereafter Roman wasted no time. He pulled you onto his lap by your thighs, placing you under his desk and throwing all objects on the table with one arm. He kissed you. Furiously. He kissed you as if you were his property, as if you were the answer to all his prayers, his divinity. Your mouth opened to get air and Roman took the opportunity to invade with his tongue, hunting you.

You groaned, or he, or both.

"I'm going to show you what a real fucking is." Roman snarled against your mouth, not considering any consequences before popping all the buttons on your shirt with a two-handed tug, making you gasp.

That seemed to bring you back to Earth.

You pulled your chest away from him, and Roman looked up at you with a questioning expression.

“Ro-Roman, this is wrong.” you said.

“You have no idea how much I don’t give a fuck.” He leaned over to kiss you again, extremely excited by the sight of you in a lacy bra, but you averted your face by placing your hands on him chest.

You said. “I'm going to have to resign this job later if I do it, and I need the job.”

Romam snorted, straightening up again.

“Who says you need to resign? Did you forget that I am the owner of this crap?” He brought his lips to your neck once more, and you sighed softly “Be mine. Be mine."

“I don’t know.”

Romam held your face in his hands, in a gentle touch, which clashed absurdly with the lush fire in his eyes.

“I don't want to fuck you because you work here, but because I think you're fucking beautiful.” He said “Be mine, and if you don't want anything to do with me afterwards, that's okay, let's keep working normally.” Roman moved closer, his voice hitting your mouth “Let me fuck this hot pussy, I'm sure you'll want more later. And I will give you everything you want.”

So you gave in. You kissed him fiercely, spreading your legs wider and settling them between them, letting the skirt roll to pile on your hips and exposing lace panties. Roman reaching down to your back and removing your bra, dropping your mouth over your left breast when it was exposed.

You moaned loudly, throwing your head back, curling your fingers in his hair and sighing when Godfrey moved his fingers down the middle of your legs. You whimpered, rummaging around in his hand for some friction, needy and needy.

Roman laughed arrogantly against your breast: “Such a needy little thing, aren't you?” He took a bite out of your left beak as he walked away to remove his belt.

You groaned, your eyes on fire, your body hot and needy. And that's when Roman looked at you. A hot fucking woman half naked at his table, so beautiful and perfect that it was almost a sin. He wanted to be able to record that scene forever. You were perfect. He thought you were extraordinarily perfect.

Then he rushed ferociously at you again, his hands wrapped around your hot body as he moaned on your lips: "Where have you been all my life?"

You gasped, finishing the job of his belt and pants, fighting a battle with his tongue.

“Waiting for this moment.” You provoked it with a sensual chuckle, nibbling on his lower lip.

Roman shared your sly smile, tearing at your panties and holding his own dick in your direction. You moaned louder this time, in need, lowering your hands to his hips and rolling around his waist, trying to get closer.

Roman laughed, sinking his mouth into yours and also plunging his dick into yours smooth folds.

You screamed out loud, clasping your body to his while Roman put an arm around your waist, gluing your body to his and hitting the stick at the end of the well, drawing out a loud groan from both of you. The environment was filled with moaning and pornographic sounds, the table rattling beneath you as the things that were left on top now fell completely. You wrapped your arms around his neck, clenching your nails at the back of your neck as you wrapped your legs around Roman's hips, pulling him further into you and swallowing him completely.

“Holy fuck!” He snarled, lowering his mouth to meet your neck and shoulder, closing his teeth there as he demanded more force in his movements.

Godfrey beat without mercy, without pause, conquering and proclaiming his every piece of your body as his own. You could no longer control your moans, all the sensations exploded inside you like nuclear bombs and pleasure and pain curved all your lines of reasoning. You laid your back on the table, your breasts jumping with the speed and strength of him movements, while Roman clasped his hands on your waist and set a brighter pace as he pulled you onto his dick and propelled your hips at you.

“So fuck hot slut!” He growled, never stopping the pace.

You shouted something that looked like him name, and threw your head back when the orgasm invaded your system, shaking your legs and pulling him deeper. Roman moaned loudly, squeezing your flesh so tightly that it would leave marks tomorrow, while he cum inside you, spilling all the hot liquid on your barriers.

You were sweaty and panting, but Roman didn't give you a second to breathe and process the situation until he leaned over to you, still inside your core, and kissed your right breast, dropping one:

“Dinner at my place tomorrow?”

You laughed, still very airy, and agreed, overcome by tiredness.

“Okay, Godfrey.” Roman gave you another lunge of teasing, making your laugh mix with a groan.

#roman godfrey #roman godfrey x reader #Roman Godfrey x you #bill skarsgard #bill skarsgård x reader #Roman Godfrey x y/n #hemlock grove #Hemlock Grove x reader #bill skarsgård imagine #roman godfrey imagine #Roman Godfrey icons #smut #Hemlock Grove smut #willard russell

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nightingaelic · 3 years

Note

New Vegas companions reacting to the courier being mildly deaf?

Upon first meeting the courier, most assumed they were shy. They didn't make eye contact often, they just stared intensely at your mouth, as if trying to physically catch the words that were said. They naturally talked with their hands when they answered questions, but their movements were too animated to be merely emphasis. Most curiously, they avoided talking to anyone who covered their head with a helmet, head wrap or bandanna, and if they absolutely had to, they constantly asked the person in question to repeat themselves. If they were lucky, the confused individual would write down what they were trying to say. If they weren't, the conversation ended prematurely and the courier's face held a look of utter frustration and disappointment for hours.

It wasn't until the third or fourth time the courier ran afoul of a New Vegas Strip Securitron that told them to get out its way that their companion pulled them aside.

Arcade Gannon: "You can't hear them, can you?" Arcade asked, pulling them back from the street where the contingent of House's robots was rolling by.

"I... a little bit," the courier protested, putting a hand to their left ear. "Mostly out of this side. It's been ringing a lot lately, though, and normally I can compensate by just watching their mouth, but with robots..."

Arcade nodded. "You can't lip-read a bot. Sure. Why haven't you gone to the Followers yet?"

"For what?"

"An implant." Arcade furrowed his brow. "Dr. Usanagi has to have something in stock, or she could call in some favors out west and get one sent here."

The courier's hand moved upward again, to the scar that graced their hairline. "I don't think..."

Arcade's eyes widened. "Oh. Sorry. Yeah, that might make things... difficult."

Craig Boone: "Keep your eyes up," Boone said gruffly, after the courier picked themselves up from where the Securitron had tossed them after they failed to move quickly enough.

"I can't have my eyes on everything and everyone inside the Strip," the courier grumbled. "It's not my fault. There's enough people here today to drown out the feel of robot wheels on asphalt. And where were you, spotter?"

Boone softened, but less than an inch. "It might not be your fault, but it won't matter if the thing you miss is the thing that does you and your partner in. Don't lose track of House's muscle when you're in New Vegas."

"I wish they had muscles," the courier groaned. "Specifically facial muscles. It'd make things a whole lot easier."

"Let's do our business and get out of town quickly," Boone answered, giving everyone in the near vicinity a look of distrust. "Too many people means too many opportunities to miss something important."

Lily Bowen: "Is your hearing going, dearie?" Lily asked, clearly concerned at the prospect. "Grandma was lucky enough to keep hers, but plenty of her friends' hearing started to go after turning 60."

"I'm fine," the courier insisted, brushing their coat off. "It's nothing I can't handle or work around."

Lily thought for a minute as they removed the rest of the dust from their outfit. "You know, pumpkin, it's okay to need help sometimes."

The courier gave her a sour look. "Not in the Mojave, it's not."

"Even in the Mojave," Lily chided. "Some people are big and strong, like Grandma. Others are small and sneaky. Some people can't see, or can't walk, and some people can't eat or drink or go to the bathroom without help. Some people can't hear."

"Lily..."

"Listen to your grandma." Lily patted their head. "Some people need help, and they deserve it. Let Grandma help you watch out for robots, next time."

The courier sighed and looked up at her sadly. "Okay. But... you should think about taking your own advice, Lily."

Raul Alfonso Tejada: "Earth to Courier Six," Raul said with a chuckle. "Mr. House's minions don't have time to scoop you onto the sidewalk every time they roll through, you know."

The courier rolled their eyes and retrieved their pack from where it had fallen. "Chingate. And I don't have time to move out of the way whenever they need to break up a fight in Gomorrah."

Raul examined his fingers with mock interest. "Shame they don't speak the bridge talk you do. I don't know if their pequeñas garras could manage it, though."

The courier's eyes widened, and a smile grew beneath them. "Bridge talk? Never heard it called that, before."

"Eh, lingua franca, common-speak, whatever it's going by now." Raul waved his hand, then shot out a few quick signs: "man," "woman," "eat". "Don't know much of it myself, but I know it when I see it. Used to belong to the Plains tribes alone, and now it's everywhere."

"Everywhere except the Mojave." The courier made a face. "Why is that?"

Raul shrugged. "Who knows. Maybe they all got sick of being tossed around by robots, too."

Rose of Sharon Cassidy: Cass let go of the courier briefly to bang a fist on the side of the nearest departing Securitron. "Assholes! House can afford to be late!"

She grabbed the courier again and ducked behind a pack of tourists before the Securitron could pinpoint her. "Six, you have to stick by me," she insisted. "I know you're only firing on one cylinder in the sound department."

"I am fine," the courier insisted, wiggling out of her grasp.

"You are not." Cass seized them again. "I've known plenty of NCR vets who were discharged with heads full of nightmares, missing limbs and a lifelong case of tinnitus or no hearing at all. By my guess, you're somewhere in the middle of those last two, and I'll be damned if you get done in by a robotic security team after you had the gall to crawl out of your own grave and kick the leader of the Chairmen's ass."

"Well what do you want me to do, Cass?" the courier protested, their hands flying with the emotion. "No one here understands. Everyone else in the Mojave with hearing problems is too poor to wander around the Strip, or too dead to care!"

Instead of responding, Cass watched their fingers, making shapes. Shapes she'd seen before. Something clicked, and she reached out to grab their hands. "Plains talk," she said breathlessly.

"What?"

"Plains talk!" Cass was grinning. "My mom knew it. God, I'm stupid."

Veronica Santangelo: Rather than chastise the courier, Veronica watched them pick themselves up and make a series of angry motions with their hands toward the departing robots.

"You're talking," she said with wonder, when they finally turned back to her.

"Huh?"

"With your hands." Veronica imitated the last sign they'd made. "What does it mean?"

The courier blushed. "Um. Maybe don't make that sign in public, unless you're really, really angry at someone."

"Starting with swear words, as you always should when learning a new language," Veronica replied brightly. "Why don't you just use the sign language more?"

"Because, Veronica, people here don't speak it." The courier sighed. "You get English, Spanish, some tribal languages, but I've only met two people who knew the signs I know. I'm still not sure where it comes from. After I woke up in Doc Mitchell's office, I thought I was crazy for a bit. Like I had this whole, made-up language in my head that no one else could speak."

Veronica put a hand on their shoulder and squeezed it. "Teach me. We'll speak it together."

ED-E: ED-E had learned early on that beeping was no use with the courier, so it did the next best thing it could and gently bounced its dome off their shoulder and arms, tilting its speaker toward them with concern.

The courier, eyes brimming with tears, grabbed the eyebot in both hands and pressed their forehead to it, as if holding the face of a loved one. "I wish I wasn't like this," they muttered.

ED-E held still until their pain had subsided, and it floated close behind them when they arose and moved on.

Rex: Rex barked his anger at the departing Securitrons, then turned to look up at the courier and whine.

They ruffled the fur on his neck and crouched down to put their arms around him. "It's okay, buddy. You can't warn me every time someone big comes up behind me. Thanks for watching my back."

#fallout #fallout new vegas #fnv #fallout new vegas companions react #fallout new vegas companions #arcade gannon #arcade israel gannon #craig boone #lily bowen #raul tejada #raul alfonso tejada #rose of sharon cassidy #cassidy #veronica santangelo #ed-e #rex #deafness

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olivia-anderson-fanfic · 3 years

Text

Into The Unknown, Part 2

First

Interdimensional travel? Awful. Don’t try it at home. It’s a lot like how one would imagine getting sucked up a straw: you get squished and pulled until you come out the other side a goopy mess.

Speaking of goopy messes: Tim keeled over and threw up.

He ignored the yelling right next to him because, honestly, he couldn’t even bring himself to look up at the moment. The bright light of this world -- apparently it was daytime here, ew -- hurt his eyes even through his sunglasses and he really didn’t want to move from where he had curled up in what seemed to be grass.

But, eventually, he did. He pushed himself up onto his knees and squinted over at her.

Ladybug had detransformed at some point and was now wearing an old t-shirt and some sweats… and she was apparently fighting off a baby. Damian kicked, screamed, and wiggled in her hold as she tried her hardest to trap him in the blanket again.

“... how are you losing to a baby?”

She sent a glare at him and then mumbled a curse as a tiny fist connected with her face and Damian wriggled away from her.

“Let me think about that, Red. What could go wrong if I, a meta used to fighting other metas, tried to use force against a human child?”

Okay, yeah. It was probably for the best that she hadn’t tried anything.

Oddly enough, when Tim walked over and replaced Marinette, Damian started behaving immediately.

He frowned, tipping his head to the side confusedly. He picked up his younger brother and stood up. “Why’d he start freaking out?”

She did the exact opposite of standing up, opting to spread out in the grass and glare at the sky. “I don’t know. He just started freaking out when I tried to put the watch around his neck.”

“Weird,” he mumbled.

“Yeah.”

He took the time to look around properly for once. They were in a park but it must have been a weekday because there was hardly anyone around. The only people that had paid them any mind were a group of teenagers -- probably ditching, he thought -- that were staring at them with wide eyes.

Tim glanced at a street sign to make sure the common language was English before sending them a glare. “It’s rude to stare, y’know.”

The teenagers quickly looked down at their phones. Tim knew better than to believe that they were actually paying attention, they had the same posture that a lot of lookouts did, but whatever. No one would believe them, anyways.

He gave her a few more minutes before he adjusted his hold on Damian and offered a hand up.

Ladybug took it with a faint smile and he pulled her to her feet. She grabbed their discarded suitcase and they started walking aimlessly.

“Okay, we’re here… but we still need a cover.”

“Um… you’re the one that’s good at hacking, right?”

He nodded. Damian reached a hand out of the blanket and began touching his hair. He was too busy wondering what to do to really mind.

“Great. How about… we’re the kid’s siblings?”

“We can pass as his parents. I mean, it’d be a teen pregnancy but it wouldn’t be bad,” said Tim. “We still had him at eighteen-ish.”

She shook her head. “He’s darker than both of us, it wouldn’t make sense. Maybe I had him with some… darker guy and now you’re my boyfriend? No, that feels racist for some reason. I’m his half-sister, our parents died, and you’re my boyfriend.”

Tim frowned. “Why am I always the boyfriend? He’s my brother.”

“Well, frankly, you look nothing like him. He and I, at least, have similar noses.”

He scowled. It made sense but it still annoyed him. “Fine. I’m your husband, though. I want to have at least some rights.”

She rolled her eyes. “Sure. Guess that’s good for tax benefits, too. Better get me a cute ring.”

“Okay, but the diamond is going to be fake.”

“Cheapskate.”

“Cheskae,” Damian said, yanking Tim’s hair like the little shit he was.

“See, he agrees,” Ladybug said with a victorious grin.

They went up to a hotel (Red Robin had tried to talk her into a five-star one but she managed to bring it down to a two-star when showing him the cost) and tried to reserve a room.

“May I have a name for the reservation?” The nice lady at the front counter said, smiling at them.

Red Robin glanced up from where he was awkwardly bouncing with the baby in his arms to shoot her A Look. It was unfortunate that she had no clue what the look meant. She considered the question for a moment before eventually saying:

“Dupain-Cheng.”

Red Robin relaxed a little so she was pretty sure she had gotten it right.

She hesitantly took the baby from him -- the kid had apparently forgotten about his earlier freakout because he was just as weirdly still as he had been back in Gotham -- so he could pay.

The moment they got into the hotel room she fell back in the bed. The baby squirmed a little on her stomach to get comfortable before joining her in her laziness.

Red Robin sighed and sat next to them, resting his head in his hands. “Okay. We’re going to need supplies for him. Do you want to do a supply run or should I?”

She shrugged a little, much to the baby’s dismay. Have you ever had a baby babble angrily at you? It’s very cute.

“You’re so helpful. Thanks, Ladybug.”

“No problem,” she said as if she couldn’t hear the blatant sarcasm in his tone. Then she pushed herself up to squint at him, the baby sliding down to her lap smoothly. “Wait, are we still going to be using codenames?”

He frowned. “Obviously.”

“... for fifteen years?”

“Obviously.”

She rolled her eyes. “Great, so when we take the kid back we’re going to explain to him that, on top of all the adjustment of moving to a different dimension, he needs to now use a different name for you, and messing up isn’t an option. Also, I feel like people are going to question two random people called ‘Red Robin’ and ‘Ladybug’ at some point.”

Red Robin frowned, clearly thinking hard, and then nodded slightly. He removed his glasses and looked at her with an awkward smile. “This is Damian, I’m Tim.”

She raised her eyebrows because he was looking at her expectantly and she really didn’t know what he wanted from her. “Uh… am I supposed to know you?”

“I mean… kinda?”

She squinted at him for a while before shrugging. “That one guy? Timothy --.”

“Yep!”

“-- Chalamet?”

He looked oddly hurt now. “You think I look like Timothy Chalamet?”

“I mean you both have the same sickly Victorian boy look about you.”

“... for the sake of our fake marriage I’m going to pretend that you didn’t say that. I’m Tim Drake.” She still didn’t show any hint of recognition (probably because she didn’t recognize him) so he groaned and motioned to Damian. “This is Damian Wayne.”

“Wayne? Like Waynetech?”

“There you go,” he said.

She grinned at him. “It’s not my fault you made me guess.”

He huffed a little. “Alright, fine, then who are you, then?”

“Marinette Dupain-Cheng.”

“... who’s that?”

“A nobody. Like secret identities should be,” she said, giving him a smug look.

He rolled his eyes. “I feel like this is going to be a long fifteen years.”

“Shouldn’t have dragged me into your mess, now you gotta deal with the consequences.”

He stuck his tongue out at her. She returned it. So did the baby.

It was decided that Marinette should be the one to go on a supply run since Tim needed to start making identities for them.

… it would be a lot easier if there wasn’t a baby crawling all over him. She’d better get a crib while she was out because he didn’t know if he could deal with a baby smashing the keys for much longer.

“Dami -- no, stop, I -- I swear to god -- you’re a baby okay I can literally just drop you and you would -- please stop --,” Tim cut off his irritated rambling when Damian nearly got them on a good few government watchlists by smashing the keys at the wrong time.

Fed up, he grabbed the kid and set him on the ground. It’ll probably be fine. He only needed to do a few quick things, anyways.

He was shocked to find that there was a version of him in this world. The idea of a Tim who didn’t do vigilante-work was foreign to him. He had apparently stayed with his parents and was now working towards a business degree. This dimension’s Tim wasn’t nearly as famous as he was and the three of them had landed in Texas so it was unlikely that he would be recognized but he would prefer not using the name if he didn’t have to. Just to be safe.

Damian didn’t exist, as far as he could tell, but Bruce Wayne did and he was still famous so it wouldn’t be a good idea to use his last name either.

There was a version of Marinette, too, but she was currently in France helping her parents run their bakery. Very little chance of her getting recognized.

So, he decided to use her last name for all of them. Quick and easy. He’d have to tell her that he changed her birthplace to New Jersey when she got back to the hotel but he doubted she’d have much of a problem with that.

… oh. His phone was ringing. Apparently he could tell her now.

He picked up and wedged it between his ear and his shoulder as he worked at finding them a few social security numbers to… ‘borrow’.

“Yeah?”

“How big is the baby?”

Tim blinked a few times. “... baby sized?”

“No. Like… what size diaper do you think he would use?”

He scoffed. “Do I look like I would know the diaper sizes?”

“Do I look like I do? Just… how old do you think he is?”

Tim looked over the edge of the bed to where Damian was currently shaking Kaalki like she was a maraca. Kaalki, for her part, only looked vaguely annoyed as she bounced around in his tiny baby fists.

“I dunno. Like… a year-ish? Just buy one of everything we can see what fits.”

“Fucking hell I forgot you were rich. You said a year? I’m using that.”

He rolled his eyes. “Okay -- OH SHIT DAMIAN NO!”

He tumbled out of bed and raced over to Damian before he could stick his finger in a socket. He didn’t really know if that was enough to get shocked but this was not the way to find out.

Damian was apparently very annoyed about him foiling his attempt at dying because he squirmed around in his grip and yelled incomprehensibly. Tim ignored the baby fists trying to knock his teeth out -- his teeth had faced far worse before -- and scooted across the ground to his phone.

“-- to god, Tim, what happened if you don’t answer I will run over there --.”

“It’s fine. Just get… you know the things that cover electrical sockets? Make sure to get some of those,” he said, tipping his head back to rest against the bed so he could kind of relax despite the ball of anger in his arms.

Marinette groaned. “Fuck, you can’t just scare me like that.”

“Yeah, you were the one that suffered the most during that.”

She scoffed but he swore he could hear a tiny laugh hidden under her mumbled ‘shut up’.

He smiled a little.

She didn’t hang up, probably expecting to ask him something else soon, so he listened in idly as he tried to calm Damian down enough to start working again.

She mumbled to herself while she looked for things. Some of the speech was normal but most of it was pretty much as incomprehensible as Damian’s babbling (admittedly, it probably didn’t help that he was only half paying attention).

“... tty trai… now?... oh... alright… oh, great, does she work here?” She murmured to herself. Then, louder: “Hey, lady --!”

“We’re in Texas,” he reminded her. “People are expected to be more polite down here.”

He was too late. Someone started yelling on Marinette’s end and, if the tiny sigh of annoyance was anything to go off of, it wasn’t her.

The yelling lasted approximately five minutes before someone intervened.

He heard her speak in rapid Spanish to the employee and, to his surprise, he could actually understand every word of them talking shit about the lady who had screamed at her. He didn’t know what to think of this outside of pulling the phone away from his mouth so he could try and roll an r. He was delighted to find that he had gained that ability as well. He continued rolling his tongue.

Damian stopped his squirming and gave Tim a confused look… and then he started to giggle. He twisted around in Tim’s lap and started trying to mimic the sound.

He tried to hide his smile as the two of them kept making r sounds at each other. He didn’t think he’d succeeded at keeping his face relatively neutral, but he didn’t really mind.

~~~~~

@nathleigh @peachmuses @unoriginalmess

#made a complex story with distinct arcs and heist vibes #and then released a story about two idiots raising a kid #and somehow i was surprised that people liked the second one better #i know im good at fluff its just really draining to do it all the time #but i rely so much on feedback at this point for serotonin that now I'm doing both #idk what ill do when school starts up tbh #into the unknown #maribat #timari #timmari #timinette #shutterbug #ladybug #tim drake #red robin #marinette dupain cheng

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aprilsrant · 4 years

Text

Lay all your love on me | Oliver Wood x Slytherin!Fem!Reader.

SUMMARY: (Y/N)’s been crushing on the Gryffindor Quidditch Captain for over three years. Now, in their seventh and last year of Hogwarts, her friends are determined to get them together.

WORD COUNT: 2,833.

WARNINGS: underage drinking. (If there are more and I didn’t put them, let me know).

NEXT PARTS:

Honey Honey! (part two)

When I kissed the teacher (part three).

A/N: so, this came out because of a random idea and I couldn’t stop thinking about it. For some reason, I like to imagine wizards dancing to ABBA, of course it’s the muggleborns and maybe halfbloods that know about them. This was written while I listened to Lay all your love on me, slowed down, on repeat. I algo gave the reader’s friends name because it was easier, and I may or mat not based their personality on my own close friends…

English is not my first language so if there are any mistakes, I’m sorry! Reblog if you can, and if you have any suggestions or requests just DM!

Masterlist.

tags: @peeves-a-legend (thank you for everything).

The Ravenclaw vs Hufflepuff Quidditch match had ended with a win for the eagle’s house, although the other team did not make it easy for them. The Hufflepuffs were known for their patience and hard working nature, giving up easily was not one of their traits and that’s exactly what everyone had seen on the match this afternoon. They knew their opponent’s Seeker, Cho Chang was getting better with each game she played, so the Captain of the Hufflepuff Team decided their best chance was, if he wasn’t fast enough to catch the snitch that is, to lash out against the poor Keeper.

And so they did.

The Chasers, Preece, Macavoy and Applebee, were unstoppable. On the occasion the Quaffle landed in their hands, which had been like seventy percent of the time, they would use many different strategies to confuse the other players, including the Keeper, and score a goal.

Even after their brilliant performance, Ravenclaw still won by twenty points ahead when Cho Chang caught the snitch. A small distraction from the Hufflepuff Seeker and Captain had cost them the victory, but that didn’t discourage the badgers, hell, (Y/N) thought nothing could after how well they had played. She had never felt so much respect for the usually overlooked House.

That was pretty much the reason why the Ravenclaws were so eager to celebrate their win and had invited the whole school, or at least everyone up to the age of fifteen, to their Common Room. Many people believed they weren’t capable of throwing a good party since they were supposed to be smart and have their head on a book every minute, but (Y/N) never doubted them. One of her best friends was a Ravenclaw and that girl sure knew how to have fun, school and good grades being the last thing on her mind whenever she got sight of the Firewhisky.

If you had asked for (Y/N)’s opinion, she would tell you Ravenclaws were the seconds best at Hogwarts on the matter of hosting parties, Slytherins right up to them. Albeit that may have been biased, she herself was a Slytherin and, thinking about it, she never went to any Gryffindor parties because, well, no one except her other friend wanted a Slytherin there. Many of them thought they were some kind of saints just because they were brave and didn’t realise they were, instead, a bunch of reckless and prejudiced twats. The remaining house, Hufflepuff, took parties to a whole other level and sometimes it became all a little too much. She wasn’t much of a party person but she still enjoyed them from time to time, but they went insane any time alcohol was in the room and started to come up with crazy ideas that would, with no doubt, get them expelled.

After waiting ten minutes for a member of the house to step out and answer the riddle for her, which (Y/N) knew you didn’t need to be part of the house to reply but even as a Slytherin and having, supposedly, a cunning and intelligent mind she sucked at those kind of questions; she, and twenty others, finally entered the Ravenclaw Common Room, which was completely renovated since the last time she had visited it.

The circular and wide room was filled with students from all the four houses making it seem smaller than it actually was. The moon shone, filtering through the arched windows, barely illuminated but some flickering and colour changing lights on the ceiling made it work. The furniture was against the wall on the left side so people could dance freely in the middle, while the tables on the right bursted with food and bottles of alcohol. A muggle radio had been placed on one of the large table’s corner and to (Y/N)’s delight, it wasn’t playing any songs by the Weird Sisters. She loathed that band since last year when some students, presumably Gryffindors, enchanted the speakers on the hallways to repeatedly play one of the group’s songs.

The girl started to move towards the left side of the room, avoiding the crowd growing larger and larger. Trying to catch some familiar faces, she stood on her tiptoes and observed the room, but the lack of light and her problem with seeing things from afar, made her search harder. A couple of minutes had passed when she recognized the trio she was friends with. They were waving and screaming her name, trying to catch her attention, right beside the door that led to the dormitories.

(Y/N) grinned at them while walking in their direction. Once she settled on Isla’s side, her best friend since childhood, some of her nerves were washed away a little. It was easier for her to be in a place packed with people if she had her close friends as company. Dorian, the last one to join the group in their fifth year, offered her a black cup with, judging by the smell, Quintin Black, her favourite. The corners of her mouth quirking up as a way of saying thanks without having to shout at him to make herself be heard through the loud music.

The Multicolour Quartet — name they all despised but stood with it because it was one of Dorian’s drunk comments when he realised how they were all from different houses; (Y/N) was the Slytherin, he was the Gryffindor, and the other two, Isla and Ethan, were both Ravenclaws — easily fell in a conversation about Isla’s brilliant performance as Chaser for her House’s Team, the other three complimenting her whenever she started to list all the errors that almost allowed the Hufflepuffs to win.

Spacing out of her friend’s chat, (Y/N)’s eyes peer round the room looking, nearly in a desperate way, for someone in particular. Answering the comments the other three made with a simple nod of her head or a yes to seem like she was paying attention, her eyes fixated in a figure directly across from them, supporting it’s body’s weight on a wall. He was surrounded by some of his classmates and friends from the same house, but she could still see, albeit with great trouble, his short brown hair and his right hand holding a black cup, equal to the one she had.

She failed to realise that her friends had noticed where her attention travelled to. Sharing knowing glances and smirks they knew it was time for (Y/N) to talk to the boy she’d been crushing on for three years now. Isla and Ethan left saying some people were starting to cause trouble, not that (Y/N) had actually listened to them, too lost in attempting to catch another glimpse of the boy. That ended on Dorian, the most chaotic of the four, finding the way to make them, at least, share two or three words.

Suddenly, she felt a hand on her left arm dragging her along the room and pushing people on the way. That belonged to Dorian and it didn’t take long for her to understand what he was doing, his mischievous smile betraying him. Her eyes widened and she shook her head while planting her feet on the floor, putting all her strength on them so he wouldn’t move her. She didn’t succeed. Obviously because of his friend’s stronger hands.

A chant of pleas and several no exited from her mouth, but it was useless. If something got inside Dorian’s head, then nothing could stop him from doing it. A trait they both shared and the cause of a few of their arguments, neither of them knew when to back the hell down. Not even the promise of (Y/N) doing his Arithmancy homework for two weeks made him stop on his tracks. Dorian had really compromised to the cause because she knew how much he detested that subject, only taking it to please his father.

Before she could raise the offer to a month, they were already in front of him and the group he was chatting with.

Oliver Wood smiled at the two friends, recognizing only one of them but still being kind and inviting towards her, whose heart was about to jump out of her chest from how fast it was beating.

“Hey, Wood, how’re you doing?,” Dorian greeted him first and then nodded at the others as if he was saying hi, “preparing for the Quidditch match next week?”

(Y/N) stood awkwardly by Dorian’s side, looking and smiling shyly at people she had never interacted with. She was going to cut this boy’s head of the minute everyone left.

“Yeah, the Hufflepuffs played like hell today.” She heard Oliver say. His words tumbling with each other. Was he already starting to get drunk? “I think I’ll need to book more practices if we want to win next week”.

Luckily, or not, Dorian noticed he hadn’t introduced his friend to the group yet. And even if she didn’t like to just stand there like a rigid stick, she hated the new attention.

“This is (Y/N) (Y/L/N), by the way,” he announced while placing his right hand on the upper side of her back and pushing her body to the front. And the shy smile made an appearance on her face once more.

She whispered a small hello, looking at everyone but Oliver, and instantly felt the need to jump off the Astronomy Tower, not long after making Dorian the next designated Gryffindor Ghost.

“What house are you in? I’ve never seen you before,” questioned one of the boys next to Oliver with his eyebrows furrowed in confusion and a lost look on his eyes, as if he was trying to place her and remember the colours of the tie she used daily.

“She’s not a Gryffindor, maybe that’s why you haven’t seen her much,” Dorian answered before she had the chance to, “she’s actually a Slytherin.” A new expression on his face now, intimidating the others to see if they dared to express some kind of negative or stupid comment to his friend about the house she belonged to. No one said anything. She saw Dorian smiling proudly from the corner of her eye, but in that moment (Y/N) had the weird sensation she was some kind of prey to starving lions.

The group began to talk to each again, like nothing happened, all except Oliver, who was looking at her with his eyebrows raised and an intriguing sparkle in his dark brown eyes.

Dorian spoked once more.

Does he ever shut up?

“Remember the other day you said you were falling behind in Potions and Transfiguration?” Oliver nodded at him, signalising her friend to keep talking. “Well, I have the perfect person to help you with that. (Y/N) tutors me from time to time in those subjects too.”

Forget the Astronomy Tower, she desperately needed some kind of magical earthquake that could crack the floor beneath her feet and swallow her whole.

It’s not like Dorian was lying, she had helped him, and still did sometimes, to study for an important test, not only in Potions and Transfiguration, but also in the rest of the subjects they shared. Merlin knew that boy was a disaster when talking about paying attention to classes. But that didn’t mean she was good enough to tutor Oliver freaking Wood. (Y/N) could treat Dorian how she wanted if he wasn’t trying to, at least, know what she was talking about, they were friends and most of their time together was spent hitting each other, but how was she supposed to act around the precious Gryffindor Quidditch Captain?

“Great!,” Oliver exclaimed quickly. A sudden blush crept all the way from below his turtle neck to his cheeks, but she couldn’t identify if it happened because of the alcohol or embarrassment from sounding “too enthusiastic”. He cleared his throat before speaking again. “I was about to start looking for one. McGonagall said that if I don’t get my grades up to an Exceeds Expectations, I won’t be able to play the rest of the matches.”

“That sucks, but you’d found one already so you two can start immediately with the tutoring sessions”, Dorian commented slily while looking at her with the smile of a champion adorning his face.

He was trying exceptionally hard, she had to give him that.

In a swift movement, she drank the whole content of her cup to see if the knot that had formed on her stomach would go away. The blonde girl, perhaps a member of the Gryffindor Quidditch Team, beside (Y/N) noticed her drink was missing and offered her to reach out for one of the bottles of the table across. The Slytherin nodded and asked for the bottle of Quintin Black if there was still one.

“So you like Scottish things?” Oliver observed, with his eyes lighted up and his bottom lip stuck beneath his teeth, when he saw her grab the bottle of alcohol filled to the middle with onyx liquid.

“She sure does.” She heard Dorian mumble, he had tried to hide the smirk burying his face on his cup but (Y/N) took notice of that too. After giving him a pointed look, she turned her head towards Oliver, who, hopefully, hadn’t heard her friend’s remark; if he had, he was good at concealing it.

Her response was interrupted by the starting melody of “Lay all your love on me”, one of her favourite songs, and a voice that could only belong to her best friend, screaming her name. Out of nowhere, Isla took her hand, said something to Oliver and Dorian about returning her to them later, and yanked (Y/N) to the direction of the made up dance floor, making her almost drop the cup she was holding.

It was an unspoken rule between them, whenever one of their favourite songs was on the radio, they would stop what they were doing, important or not, and start to dance and sing, without caring about other people’s opinion. It was something like a ritual that had become a safe space and a signature of their friendship for both of the girls.

A few seconds through the song had played when Celine stopped dancing and approached her friend, whispering something in her ear.

“Okay, don’t look and don’t freak out, but Oliver hot stuff Wood is staring at you.”

“What? What do I do?”

“Just keep dancing, I guess, maybe he likes it.”

“I don’t know how to dance, why would he like it?”

Confusion and panic in her eyes, (Y/N) tried to think about all the logical reasons Oliver Wood, one of the most attractive guys in the school, could be watching her dance. The girl knew she wasn’t beautiful, even if her best friend repeatedly said so, she wasn’t funny or interesting and, on top of all, she belonged in Slytherin, the House with the worst reputation.

“No idea, but whatever it is, keep doing it.”

Her best friend winked at her, a large and contagious smile spreading over her face. Grabbing one of (Y/N)’s hands, she made her twirl around following the fast beat of the song. Seizing the opportunity, (Y/N) glanced at Oliver and discovered that he was, indeed, staring at her while he drank from his black cup.

A random and unexpected laugh flew out of her mouth. Her best friend, carefree as always, began to giggle with her while dancing around the room. She had never felt more alive, and some people would think she was ridiculous for actually thinking it, but singing her favourite song at the top of her lungs, dancing and laughing and just having fun with her best friend. Excitement running through her veins uniting with the nerves Oliver’s attention towards her had provoked; a slight headache caused by the alcohol mixing with the new confidence coming from the same thing.

Aware of the dark brown eyes focusing on her, she turned around once more, but this time she didn’t look away. She kept singing, beaming at him from the middle of the dance floor, and maintaining eye contact. A sudden thought appeared on her mind, if she’d had maybe one more full cup of Quintin Black, perhaps she would’ve been confident enough to ask him on a date.

Don’t go wasting your emotions, lay all your love on me.

Don’t go sharing your devotion, lay all your love on me.

(Y/N) didn’t think that he would take that as an invitation when she whispered the words while looking at him, it wasn’t even meant to be one, but Oliver Wood had left his cup on the table next to him and was now walking towards her.

A little small talk, a smile and baby I was stuck.

I still don’t know what you’ve done with me.

#harry potter #harry potter oneshot #harry potter imagine #harry potter x reader #slytherin!reader #oliver wood #oliver wood x reader #oliver wood x slytherin!reader #slytherin #harry potter fanfiction #oliver wood imagine #fluff #oliver wood fanfiction #oliver wood oneshot #hp imagine

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meimae · 4 years

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Language Learning Through Immersion: One Year Japanese Update

11/03/2021

I did it, you guys! I’ve successfully reached my very first year of Japanese language immersion! I honestly thought that I would have given up by now, but this really has been a fun and ultimately rewarding endeavor.

Studying the language has been at the back of my mind for years since elementary school, I just never really knew how to go about it before, and I always thought that I could learn it in a classroom setting someday. That someday for me was in two elective courses in university, and while those were fun as well, it did not give me the same gains that I have achieved in this past year.

It’s probably easier to quantify learning a language in a classroom setting, especially when going through a program to earn a language degree. Learning through immersion, however, I had to really consider what my goals should be on my own. Eventually, I stumbled upon an article saying that for an English speaker, Japanese was exceptionally difficult to learn and that at least 2,200 hours must be spent with the language to reach a certain level of proficiency. So I said to myself, “well okay internet, if you say so!”, and set that as my long term goal going forward.

Spoiler Alert: I did not hit that goal in my first year. I am not crazy and will never listen to Japanese in my sleep regardless of what Khatzumoto (the creator of All Japanese All the Time) says.

I did, however, hit a total 1,226.65 active immersion hours in my first year, so I guess I’m still a bit nuts. That is 874.96 hours of active listening and 351.69 reading hours. I also did 270.59 hours of passive listening, also known as the time in the very beginning of my immersion where I was using Japanese subtitles (therefore not really concentrating on listening alone). That’s a cumulative 1,497.24 hours spent with Japanese. That’s more than halfway towards my goal!

To further break that down for curious animanga fans out there, that’s 973 episodes from 109 anime, 765 episodes from 33 dramas, 7 movies, and 967 chapters from 107 volumes of manga (21 series). Here’s my anilist and mydramalist to see what I’ve read/watched.

During all this, I was also doing my daily Anki reps and now I have a 530 day SRS streak (includes the time prior starting immersion and only doing RTK and some vocabulary cards) and a total 8,857 sentence cards. I’ve been averaging 406 cards daily (because I’m trying to cure my leeches) and I spend about an hour per day doing reps and learning new cards. I don’t really track my time on Anki, but I do have a set timer that goes off after 1-1:30 hours.

What I haven’t touched upon at all is output. I have not gone out of my way to find a tutor or a language partner. There’s still plenty of input out there to immerse in before I even consider outputting.

Graphs, stats, and more thoughts:

Here's my current card count in my main deck (minus the cards in my new/learning queue and leeches I've been relearning which are in separate decks):

That one day in 2019 where I did not do my cards because I was seriously doubting whether I can actually stick with language learning this time around will forever haunt and inspire me to keep going everyday.

Workflow and Tips

You might be wondering, how do I have a lot of time? I started this whole endeavor in the middle of a pandemic, which eliminated the option of me going to a language school, and a slew of other things I were considering doing last year became impossible (and if anything, very scary to do in a pandemic). All I can say is that, things work out eventually if it is His will, and if I can learn a skill before everything properly settles back down again, then why not?

I wake up at 5 in the morning everyday to either do my Anki reps or read until the time when I need to get up and I listen to compressed audio throughout the day. The biggest tip is to switch the time you spend watching/reading in your native language to your target language instead. Listen to a podcast during your commute, watch an episode during lunch break, read before going to bed, do your Anki reps in the bathroom if you have to.

But, if you’re feeling burnt out, there is no reason for you to not take a break! I have been watching a lot of Among Us streams before bed, and I chat with my friends from time to time. Language learning is not a race.

More Stats

Here are a couple of grids of the kanji characters that I have encountered at least once in my immersion and how well I have answered them in my vocabulary/sentence cards.

It's interesting that after almost 9000 words, I have yet to encounter every single character from the Remembering the Kanji 1 (RTK 1) book by James Heisig, which teaches you the most common use characters that are part of the 常用漢字. Which brings me to the question, was writing down every single character being taught in RTK worth it every time it came up in my reviews for the first 3-ish months I was reviewing them? Maybe, maybe not. It certainly removed my anxiety whenever looking at blocks of text in Japanese, but the longer I think about it, the more I feel I should have switched to Recognition RTK earlier. Still, being able to write in proper stroke order is cool I guess, and it also helps me when looking things up in the dictionary.

Here’s the same grid but in JLPT order:

I clearly need to grind those N2 and N1 level cards! Speaking of which, I have apparently almost covered every single character that could possibly appear in the JLPT (except for the N1 which I have only covered half of) in just a year's time. If the JLPT word frequency lists I’m using are accurate, I have about 2,000 words more to go to to cover most vocabulary that could appear in the test. This makes the "10,000 sentences/words to fluency" argument a reasonable milestone to aim for for Japanese learners if said aim is only to pass the test. That said, 10,000 words is just that, a milestone. It's more akin to a comfortable level of comprehension, but not my own concept of fluency which is being able to read with ease, speak articulately, and write comfortably.

READING IMMERSION GRAPHS

My biggest motivation for tracking my stats is for the purpose of seeing whether my reading speed is improving over time. Reading speed is also easier to measure than listening comprehension which is kind of subjective, so I had a lot of fun making these. What I found is that for the first volume or chapter of whatever it is I’m reading, I always take the time to get used to the writing style of the author. My speed really improves whenever I keep reading the same topic over and over again. On the other hand and quite obviously, looking up many new words in a row and trying to parse sentences slows me down.

Manga: Reading Speed Progression per Volume

I clearly love ちはやふる and I am not ashamed to admit it.

I need to start reading longer manga. When I do, I’ll probably split this graph into less than and greater than 20 volumes. Imagine if I start reading something ridiculously long as 名探偵コナン or ワンピ��ス, these graphs will start breaching the bounds of time and space.

Novels: Time Spent Reading per Chapter

#neverforget the time I read chapter six of Norwegian Wood for 9 hours when it took me less than half that time in English RIP. Also, my interest in Kitchen plummeted LOL. Still planning to finish it don’t worry.

I also need to start branching away from manga and start reading more novels and light novels, too just so I can make more pretty graphs.

Visual Novels: Time Spent Reading and Daily Word Count

Also known as images that clearly show that I’ve already spent several days only reading the prologue of Island. I’m not sweating. 切那 needs to stop using words I don’t know in succession. More thoughts on this VN far into the future.

Thoughts on Immersion

I can’t really say anything else other that that it works for me, and needless to say if you’re considering this method, remember that the SRS is your friend but immersion should be your one true love.

Prior to all this, I couldn’t even read a sample paragraph from Genki without being confused to my very soul. Yes, I know, it’s embarrassing, but that’s the truth. I was way more scared of failing my Japanese classes than my actual thesis for my bachelors degree, I kid you not. I would quite literally spend all my free time in university trying to understand grammar, memorize vocabulary, and answer my workbook exercises with little to no success.

I tried so hard to get all the grammar “formulas” into my head for 1.5 years and it only brought me more confusion. I’m never going back to traditional classroom study for language learning, but I will still refer to grammar books when I need to, and not because I feel like I need to answer 4783342 different workbook exercises like my life depended on it.

I still can’t believe it, but with immersion this statement is actually true to a point, don’t try shadowing anime/or calling your boss anime language slurs, use your common sense:

study anime to understand Japanese > study Japanese to understand anime

Future Goals/Plans

2,200 immersion hours was my initial goal, but honestly I feel like that number could be much higher. There’s still a lot of stuff I don’t understand (news, politics, sciences, etc.), so I’ll make attempts to cover more of those things in my immersion.

I’ll continue reading more, because that’s a natural SRS in itself. Try to read longer manga, more novels, visual novels, and light novels, and maybe news articles.

I’ll try to mine as much “JLPT vocab” as I can before making any attempts at taking the JLPT. I noticed that a lot of the words I know don’t appear in the JLPT word lists as much, even though they appear a lot in media/daily conversation.

Continue mining all words I don’t know because all words are useful anyway. There is no such thing as useless words. I never really understood mining only “interesting words” or words that “pop up” in your immersion. As I said in my previous blog post, 美人局 is an interesting word and I certainly caught it being said in my immersion, but in the three languages I know, I wouldn’t know when I would be able to use such a word, as compared to something like ジャガイモ which is a significantly less interesting word, but is certainly useful to know.

I have managed to talk up a storm, but if you have any questions regarding my process or recommendations for new immersion material, please feel free to send an ask/reply to this post. I love hearing about other people’s language learning/immersion journeys.

See you on my next post!

#language learning #japanese language #language acquisition #study blog #langblr #studyblr #graphs #language immersion #japanese #visual novels #manga #novels #anime #dramas #movies #youtube #podcasts

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amysteryspot · 4 years

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All I want for Christmas is you - Thomas Shelby x Fem!Reader

Request: hiii! can you do modern! tommy and reader spending christmas? thank you!!❤️

Requested by: Anonymous

Fandom: Peaky Blinders

Pairing: Thomas Shelby x Female Reader

Summary: (Y/N) is staying with Tommy during the lockdown and, inevitably, the holidays, but he has plans to make her stay last a little longer.

Warnings: Swearing, Modern!AU and more fluff than what you're all used considering my history with angst.

Word Count: 904

A/N: I know, I know, in theory “Highway to Hell” was supposed to be the last Christmas related fic, but @caelys made my heart grow three sizes today, and I’ve received a request for Modern!Tommy, and I miss writing Modern!Tommy, so here we are. I’m sorry if it sounds too OOC, but I was just going with the flow.

Also, I saw that both @blinder-secrets and @pollyrepents were feeling a little down, so I’m going to dedicate it to them and anyone who is feeling a little low today in hopes that some Tommy fluff can get you all a little better.

Feedback is more than appreciated, especially during the holidays.

(Y/N) = Your Name | (Y/L/N) = Your Last Name

English is not my first language and this wasn’t proofread by a beta. If you want to be tagged in my stories, just send me a message.

“Stop complaining and help me put this up,” she said, making Tommy huff.

“I don't know why you're so keen on it,” he complains but gets up to help her settle things on the table, reserving a space for the tablet so they would be able to do the videoconference with the rest of their families.

They wouldn’t be able to visit their relatives because of the lockdown. They weren’t even supposed to be locked up together, it just sort of happened. (Y/N) had been passing more time at his flat than her own, when the new lockdown was announced, Tommy said that it was easier if both of them were in one place together. She said nothing but counted the unusual request as a small victory.

“I just like to have everyone together, Tom. We didn’t have much of that when I was growing up.”

Tommy looked up at her, probably recognizing the hint of pain on her voice, and was quick to walk to her, sneaking his arms around her waist from behind and placing soft kisses on her neck and shoulder.

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs after a while.

“Don't be,” she answers, smiling.

Her family was... Complicated. She grew up almost without contact with her uncles and aunts, or her grandparents. It was only her brother, their parents, and her.

When she and Tommy started dating the prospect of being near them all gathered together excited her to no end, much to his dismay. Most of the time all he wanted was some time away from his family, even though he loved them dearly and made everything in his power to give them a better life.

“Christmas just lost a lot of sense for me after my mom died,” he confesses, in a low tone as if there were more people in the room and he only wanted her to hear it.

“Do you want to talk about it?” (Y/N) asks, turning around in his embrace and pecking his lips quickly, cradling his face between her hands.

Tommy leans in, kissing her more deeply, swaying with her from side to side for a moment, and then pressing their foreheads together.

“No, I just want you,” he said, bringing her in for another kiss, his hands wandering down her body.

“Tommy,” she warns weekly as his lips trail down her neck, and then before (Y/N) can say anything, the song of a videocall being received rings in the room.

They both look at the tablet to see who it is and Tommy groans, cursing.

“Fuck, why it’s always John?”

Laughing, (Y/N) pulls away from him and goes to answer the call, murmuring a ‘behave’ for him before answering the request.

Despite his complaints, Tommy did enjoy himself during supper. Their families were such a wild contrast: the Shelby’s were all loud and outgoing, the (Y/L/N)’s, calm and collected. (Y/N) always questioned herself why the both of them ended up together.

After midnight, when everyone disconnected and (Y/N) was putting the last things into place, having already changed into her sleeping clothes, she walked into the living room to find Tommy laying on the couch. The only source of light in the room being the Christmas lights and the light from the streets that seeped into the room through the thin curtains.

“Common, let’s go to bed,” she called, walking to him and picking up his hand to pull him off the couch.

“No, let’s stay here,” Tommy pulled her down to him, making her fall onto his chest.

They both giggled, as he rearranged the blanket to cover them both, making her rest her head on his chest, their legs intertwined.

(Y/N) thought that she couldn’t love him more than she already did, but when she looked up and found him already gazing back at her, the glimmer of the Christmas lights on his eyes, and that little smirk on his lips, she knew how wrong she was.

She kissed him, and then snuggled closer to him, in an attempt to pick up some of his warmness. They stayed in silence for what seemed like forever, the feeling of his hand gently moving up and down her back made (Y/N)’s eyes grow heavy, and she was already dozing off when she heard him say,

“I think you should move in,” he announced, simply, making her eyes go wide.

“Well, I think I already did,” she chuckled, with all the intention of going back to sleep.

“No, I mean permanently.”

Leaning on an elbow, (Y/N) blinked the sleep away as she stared back at him.

“What are you on about, Tommy?”

“I don’t want you to go back to your flat after this is over. Want you here, all the time. I want to wake up to you every day and go to sleep with you in my arms every night.”

“Tommy,” she called when he moved to pick up something from the side table.

“You asked me what I wanted for Christmas,” he said, opening the little velvet box in his hands, making her gasp and cover her mouth as her eyes filled with tears. “It’s you. You’re all I want for Christmas and the rest of my days. (Y/N) (Y/L/N), would you give me the honor of being my wife?”

“Yes,” she answered, unable to contain her tears anymore as she brought their lips together. “Yes, yes, a million times yes.”

Taglist: @stressedandbandobessed7771 @captivatedbycillianmurphy @internalmess3 @giowritess @theshelbyclan @peakyxtommy

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lovely-jily · 4 years

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stupid mistletoe

okay so i understand that it is well past christmas but i have had this idea like mONTHS ago and just wanted to get it out while i was in the mood to write! please enjoy some soft jily:)

Stupid mistletoe.

Starting around the beginning of November, Sirius thought it would be funny to place it all over the castle for James and Lily to stumble under (or perhaps he just was tired of them dancing around each other. Their feelings for each other were so obvious, and yet they were the most oblivious people he had met).

James was quite annoyed, as it kept putting him and the girl in very uncomfortable and quite awkward situations. It usually left them blushing, avoiding eye contact, and finding a stupid excuse for why they had to leave the situation immediately.

It was Christmas Eve, and Lily was cleaning up in the Gryffindor Common Room. The few people that stayed home over the break managed to make quite a mess during the party, and she didn't want to make the house-elves clean it up.

"You're still up?" She heard his voice, almost making her drop the empty cups and napkins. Some fifth years had snuck into the kitchens and came back with all sorts of puddings and pastries for everyone to enjoy.

She exhaled and tried to make her voice even, "I just figured I would help out a little."

James walked over to her and started helping her clean. He truly admired her kindness and thoughtfulness. She was too good for a lot of people, including him.

"You're too nice, you know that?" He said, smiling as he stood next to her.

She rolled her eyes, "Oh yes, because calling you an 'insufferable toe rag' is nice."

James chuckled, remembering that day that was just a year and a half ago. He was still embarrassed about who he was back then, although he wasn't really sorry for what he did to Snape. Especially after finding out what they did to Marlene...

"You were right," he looked at her. The firelight was reflecting on her skin, and he couldn't help but feel warm inside. She did that so much to him that he was almost used to the feeling, "I can say that now I appreciate the constructive criticism."

She laughed and walked over to the fire, dumping all the contents in her arms inside. It was starting to snow outside, causing her to smile. It had not felt like Christmas this year. The impending war was really sucking the joy and cheer out of everything. But honestly, it was easier to feel the Christmas spirit around James, even all of the fear bottling up inside her. She just felt so safe around him...

"Is this a muggle radio?" James asked, looking at something on the bookshelf. Lily had honestly forgotten about that- in fact, she was surprised some pretentious pureblood hadn't thrown it out.

"I forgot about that. Marlene brought it over," She said, looking at it with him. What they did to Marlene after word had gotten out about the radio left a hole inside Lily. She knew that she wasn't safe, no matter where she stood with Severus. He, after all, was one of them now. Proudly pledging his allegiance to what they called Death Eaters. All of Lily's friends found it disgusting, while she just found it so bloody terrifying.

James sensed the drop in energy, and in an attempt to lighten the mood, he gingerly brushed his hands across the top of it, trying to remember how they said you turned it on. Just one of these damn buttons.

"It's this one," Lily smiled as she turned it on. She was always so amused by his fascination with muggle things. You should've seen his reaction to a pen. She never saw him light up so fast at anything before.

Happy Christmas by John Lennon started playing as the pair just stood there, watching it. Sometimes it was quite difficult for Lily to pretend she wasn't paralyzed with fear with everything going on. It was getting harder and harder for her to cover up the nightmares, especially when she realized that she wasn't safe in her own school. She knew that she had a nasty target on her back, and she knew that even Severus wouldn't be able to protect her. Not from the person that the dark wizards all served.

"Come here," James said, taking her waist and hand. He knew that he was in a place of privilege, with him being a pureblood. And while he may never understand how she was feeling with everything going on, he did know that he could at least try to make her feel better. He knew that while she may not feel the same, he wouldn't hesitate to take the killing curse for her.

"Are you wanting to dance with me, Potter?" She smiled, briefly forgetting about the darkness of the world around her.

"Of course I am, Evans. I think we all need a little dancing this Christmas season."

She sighed and rested her head on his chest, inhaling his scent. She loved the way he smelled. It really made her feel as if the air around him was lighter. Her hand found its way up his neck, playing with the back of his hair. They had never touched like this before. It was strictly brief hugs- if that. But James couldn't describe how he was feeling at the moment. She was reciprocating his touch. This had never happened before.

"Your heart's beating really fast," she said softly, a hint of a smile in her voice.

He tried to control his breathing. If Lily could hear his heart, there was no doubt that she could hear his sad attempts of inhaling and exhaling.

"You sort of have that effect on me, Lil."

Oh shit.

James had said it before he had even thought of it. It was true, of course. She always did this to him. It was just a lot harder to hide it at the moment because he was doing something that he had dreamed about since he saw her on their first trip on the Hogwarts Express.

Just as he was trying to find a way to cover up his mistake, she looked up at him, and James wasn't sure if he saw it correctly, but it looked like the girl was actually... Could she really be blushing?

She opened her mouth to respond, but then something caught her eye above the pair. She blushed more and then smirked slightly, biting her lip a bit.

"Mistletoe," She said, looking at him and then back at the plant that was indeed planted by Sirius during the party. That idiot...

James looked up, and sure enough, there it was. He opened his mouth, but not a single sound was able to escape it. He suddenly couldn't remember any words from the English language.

"Lily, I- I don't-"

"James," She smiled, and he melted under the sound of his name in her voice. She brought her hand to his cheek, rubbing her thumb across his face, "You do know what to do when two people are caught under the mistletoe, right?"

She watched his expression change from dumbfounded to almost one of relief. As the corners of his mouth started to uplift, and he let out a very shallow exhale, his chest huffing. His eyebrows dropped as his hand found its way to her jaw.

He couldn't believe this was happening. After almost seven years of him being absolutely and utterly in love with this beautiful woman, he was not only able to embrace her, but he was about to actually kiss her?

Perhaps it was his nerves, but he found it extremely difficult to move and lean into her. She was smiling too, breathing just as shallow as he was. It was finally until their lips were so close that he could almost feel them that he realized what was going on and MERLIN, James, what the bloody HELL are you hesitating about?!

That's when he found it incredibly easy to push his lips into hers, with the force and tension built up from the past seven years. Seven long years of dreaming of this moment. As he pulled her waist into him, Lily smiled into the kiss, kissing him back as hard and as passionately as he was her.

Perhaps mistletoe wasn't as stupid as James had thought...

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farfromsugafanfic · 3 years

Text

Sutures - Chapter Five: Murmurs

Genre: Soulmates AU, Idiots to Lovers, slight Enemies to Lovers

Pairing: Yoongi/Named Reader

Warnings (chapter specific): mentions of family illness, a disgusting amount of fluff

Synopsis: “A person often meets his destiny on the road he took to avoid it.” –Jean de la Fontaine

There was only one thing you and Min Yoongi had in common that night. You were both brokenhearted. You only intended to be together for one night, but when you both end up in the hospital the next day you discover that you are soulmates. It could kill you to be apart. As you and Yoongi attempt to sever the bond between you, will another be formed?

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"Sumi!" Jungkook called. "Can you do us a favor?"

Jungkook and Jimin stood outside your door. You could tell they were up to something based on the smirk on their faces.

You had been quietly knitting, trying to forget the events of earlier that day with Minki and what happened in the backseat with Yoongi. You still felt Yoongi's lips on your stomach, soft, yet, demanding. He hadn't managed to leave any marks this time, which you were grateful for, but part of you wished you could have a reminder of the secret between you.

"What?" you asked.

"Yoongi was going to wake up at four to help us with the production on the new song. And it's almost four thirty now. Can you wake him up for us?"

You glanced at the two boys who while they seemed mischievous, seemed genuinely like they didn't want the task of having to wake up Yoongi.

"Why can't you do it?" you asked, putting aside the hat you were currently working on.

"He'll be nicer to you," Jungkook said. "He's grumpy when he wakes up."

You laughed slightly. "All right, fine."

You followed the two boys towards Yoongi's bedroom. You hadn't stepped foot in his bedroom yet, having only been in his studio. You opened the door slowly and tiptoed towards the bed where the boy's form was curled up asleep. Despite being taller than you, when he slept he made himself look so small, his knees curled up towards his chest and his arms around a pillow.

"Yoongi," you said, lightly shaking his shoulder. "The boys said you wanted to get up at four. It's four thirty."

You hear an annoyed groan and before you could protest, Yoongi dropped the pillow and pulled you onto the bed, his arms wrapped tightly around your waist. He rested his chin on your shoulder and you felt the soft scratch of his barely there facial hair.

"Sleep with me," he whispered, his hot breath tickling your ear.

You reached up to the pillow above you and threw it back towards him, hearing it hit with a solid thud.

"Fuck you." You attempted to squirm from his grasp, your legs kicking the covers and his legs. Yet, he never loosened his grip.

"Already have," he whispered, his voice husky. You felt his smirk against your shoulder blades and for a moment you thought he would begin kissing you again. But, as you reached for another pillow, his arms released from around you.

You got up from the bed and walked out of his room, his scent clinging to your clothes. You stopped to glance at Jungkook and Jimin who stood by the door, wide eyed at what they witnessed. You could only imagine what it looked like to them: Yoongi pulling you onto the bed and kissing you as you playfully tried to push him away.

"I see why no one likes waking him up."

The two boys awkwardly nodded and walked into Yoongi's bedroom, shutting the door behind them.

You couldn't help but laugh slightly at the boy's assumptions before walking back towards your bedroom at the end of the hall.

---

You hadn't spoken to your parents since before the night you and Yoongi met. You didn't call much due to the long distance charges to the US, but you figured you needed to update them about everything.

"Hello?" your mom answered the phone. "Sumi?"

"Hi mom," you said. "How's everything?"

"Good, busy as always. But, don't worry about us, how is my daughter?"

"Well, there's a lot that's happened since I talked to you last."

You explained the situation, careful not to tell your mom too much. You knew if you explained that you'd had a one night stand your mom would be disappointed and scold you. Despite being an ocean away in California, your mother still managed to make you feel like you were a fifteen-year-old again who got caught sneaking out.

"Oh, I'm so happy you finally got rid of Minki," your mother said. "I never liked him. And I can't wait to meet this soulmate of yours, what did you say his name was again?"

---

"Min Yoongi," Yoongi heard as he walked towards your room on the way to the bathroom. He stopped, noticing the small crack in your door. He wondered if you had managed to see him in the hallway, but as he approached he noticed that you were pacing around your room.

"No, mom, don't Google..." You sighed and pinched the bridge of your nose. "I get it, mom," you said laughing. "He's cute."

You didn't talk for a moment, but you cutely chewed on your bottom lip which made Yoongi want to replace your teeth with his own. He pushed back the thought as you spoke again.

"Well, we all agreed it would be best for me to move in with his band so that his career wouldn't be affected and I could continue working online or once things get better do in-person sessions."

You went silent again. Yoongi couldn't hear what your mother was saying because she was speaking so quickly.

"I know, mom," you said. "I'll be careful. The only trouble we've had has been with Minki. His fans don't know."

Yoongi's stomach turned. Guilt.

"At first, I wanted to go along with what the doctor's said and do the relationship, but I'm glad we didn't now. It may be harder for a while, but we barely knew each other and asking one another to put in effort to a relationship neither one of us wanted didn't make sense."

Despite your words being Yoongi's rationale, they felt so harsh coming from your mouth. He was glad the arrangement had become easier for you, but there was part of him that felt disappointed.

---

"How's grandma?" you asked, once your mom had finally calmed down about Yoongi. She had taken it better than you expected her to, however, you were slightly worried she was expecting grandchildren any day.

"Good," your mom answered. "The doctors say her treatment is going well. As they say, no news is good news."

You sigh, wishing you could be in the US with your family, but you stayed behind to go to school and by the time you finished, you already had a life you didn't want to leave in Korea. You visited as often as you and your parents could afford, but that was normally only at the holidays.

You had no siblings and many of your parent's siblings were also in the US or in Busan. Seoul was a lonely city, but you made it work.

"All right, well take care of her and yourself, okay, mom? And tell dad I miss him."

You ended the call after you both said your goodbyes. You sighed in relief at having finally explained the situation to your family, but you couldn't help the worry that formed in your stomach. You were normally able to suppress the constant worry about your grandmother, but every time you talked to your mom it always seemed to worsen.

---

Yoongi stepped away from your door once you hung up, so he wouldn't be discovered. He felt a small pang of guilt from eavesdropping, but your door was open and you had been talking about him. He pushed it away, knowing it really didn't matter.

He walked back to his studio and sat down at his desk, Jungkook and Jimin listening to their vocals. He wondered what was up with your grandma, while it didn't seem out of place to ask how she was doing, the way your brow had furled and the way you chewed your lip nervously made him think that there was something else going on.

"Yoongi?" Jimin asked, taking off his headphones. "Everything okay?"

Yoongi shook himself out of it.

"Yeah," he said. "Sorry, not awake yet."

---

"Sumi," Namjoon said, knocking politely on your bedroom door. "Do you want to come and help me work out some lyrics?"

You looked at the leader in somewhat disbelief, your eyes wide and your lips pursed.

"Me?" you asked. "Wouldn't one of the boys be better?"

"Maybe," he said. "But, it's not often we get a perspective of someone outside of the industry, and you've been in your room since you got back. I know it was tough to face your ex and thought you might like some company."

You smiled, Namjoon was so perceptive, you wondered if he could read your mind. You realized how much easier it would be if you were his soulmate instead of Yoongi's. Namjoon understood you and always seemed to know how to make you feel better.

"You can bring your project with you," he said, leaving towards his studio and leaving the door open for you.

You followed the leader to his studio, which had fewer obstacles to enter than Yoongi's. Although, once you entered it was largely similar. A simple design with a few decorations and various awards hung on the wall.

He pulled up a chair beside him and motioned for you to sit down beside him. You sat down and looked over all the equipment on his desk. A normal desktop with multiple monitors, other things you didn't recognize, like a machine with various knobs and switches, and a microphone.

You remembered seeing most of the same equipment in Yoongi's studio, except he had a keyboard he kept in the center of everything. The black and white keys almost taking over the room.

Namjoon opened up a notebook with various notes in it. You even noticed a few notes in English, making you smile and remember that the two of you shared the language in common.

"How'd you get into music?" you asked in English.

"I always liked music," he said, also responding in English. "I read a lot and eventually it translated into writing. I don't know, it all just kind of happened naturally."

You smiled, noting the way his face lit up as he talked about his passion, his dimples appearing on his cheeks.

"I understand," you said. "I always liked to teach people when they learned that I speak English. I should've charged when I was in high school for all the tutoring I did, but I enjoyed it enough that I didn't care."

"What about knitting?" he asked.

"I was always crafty," you said, laughing. "Whenever I visited my grandmother in the US, she always had a knitting project and she talked about how it calmed her, made her realize she had more control over her fate than she believed. She used to tell me stories about the Fates in Greek mythology and how knitting made her feel like one." You looked down at your project--a black hat. "So, whenever I feel out of control, I knit. Sometimes, I don't even know what I'm making until it's finished."

You quickly bound off the yarn and slapped the finished hat on Namjoon's head, giggling. You expected him to take it off immediately and hand it back, but instead, he used the nearest computer monitor to adjust it so it sat over his hair attractively.

"It looks nice," you said.

---

The two of you worked in comfortable silence, the hat you made still sitting on Namjoon's dyed hair. You'd started a new hat with the same black yarn. You wondered if he had a girlfriend to give it to. You and Minki always used to wear matching hats or scarfs or gloves. He took whatever you made him wholeheartedly. They were probably still sitting in the top drawer of his dresser. You wished you could unravel the yarn and turn them back into a tangled ball of string.

Namjoon would occasionally run a line past you or hum a melody without realizing. You even found yourself humming the same melody back to him and when you did, he always shot you a small smile.

"Let's see what fans think of my new hat," he said, taking a selfie with his phone.

"Wait! Don't post that! Won't they think you have a girlfriend or something?"

He gave you an odd look before looking down at the picture.

"Does Yoongi have you that paranoid? If anyone questions it, I'll just say a fan made it," he said. "Not exactly a lie."

Your shoulders slumped realizing the easy solution. It was true that since the shoe incident, you were scared to be visible in the boys' lives. Their careers meant more to them than it did to you. You could be an English tutor nearly anywhere and no one could take knitting from you, but their music could be taken from them. You didn't want to be the reason they lost their passions.

"Come on," he said. "I have to go run this past Yoongi. You're welcome to come along."

You followed Namjoon to Yoongi's studio, taking your yarn and knitting needles with you. Namjoon rang the doorbell to Yoongi's studio and you had to stop yourself from laughing at the ritual of it all.

Yoongi came and opened the door. He greeted Namjoon and while he seemed slightly surprised to see you, held the door open to you.

"She's great to bounce lyrics off," Namjoon said. "Surprised you haven't picked up on that yet."

You sat down on the couch in the back of the studio while the two boys discussed the lyrics and the song. You took the opportunity to go on Twitter, seeing the picture of Namjoon in the hat. All of the fans complimented him, telling him he looked cute and demanding he go to bed because it was late. You smiled, hoping that if the fans ever found out about you, they would have similar reactions.

You went back to knitting, but couldn't help and look up when you heard the sound of the piano. Yoongi was playing the melody Namjoon had been humming earlier and you were impressed by his ability to translate the hums into notes so quickly.

His fingers slide over the keys naturally--the keys an extension of his fingers--much like the needles you held. Yoongi was serious, but unlike his normal seriousness which was grumpy or sexy (depending on the day), this time he was focused. His lips slightly pouted and his body relaxed.

Music for him was the knitting to you. It was the creation that helped you escape yourself to feel the smoothness of the keys or the needles beneath your fingers and trust that something beautiful would come from it.

---

You had fallen asleep by the time Yoongi and Namjoon had finished; still occasionally moving your fingers, trying to knit in your sleep. Yoongi smiled, remembering the times he woke up in the studio seeing the notes he'd unknowingly composed while he was asleep.

"Do you want me to wake her up?" Namjoon asked.

"No," Yoongi said, shaking his head. "Let's not disturb her."

Namjoon nodded, grabbing his notebook and leaving the room. He closed the door softly so he wouldn't wake you.

Yoongi looked down at your sleeping form. It seemed he'd seen you sleeping nearly as much as he'd seen you awake since the first time you met. The night you spent together, you'd fallen asleep first, cuddling into his side. Normally, he wasn't the cuddling type, at least not with a girl he'd just met, but seeing the lipstick smeared across your pouty lips and your tangled hair spread out across the pillow, he hadn't been able to resist.

He grabbed your knitting needles and yarn, setting them on the edge of his desk, within your sight so you could easily find them in the morning. It wasn't the first time he'd moved your knitting needles, for something you loved so much, you often left them laying around. Yoongi opened the bottom drawer of his desk where he kept a blanket for when his studio was cold or when he fell asleep while working.

He covered your form before shutting off the light and leaving the room quietly.

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