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#sorry all non-english speaking people ^^;
beastcouture · 21 days
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are we really tone policing people who are trying to escape a genocide. is that what we're doing now
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pathologicalreid · 4 days
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sweet talker | s.r.
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in which french!reader gets caught using a special nickname for a particular genius
who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: fluff content warnings: french. guys i don't speak french. bad french. bad flirting. but wholesome content all around. word count: 639 a/n: i do not speak french but this was a request and i live to serve the people of tumblr. if this offends the french i think that's just a risk i have to take.
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Something about it felt like home. Not necessarily like the bullpen compared in the slightest to where you grew up, but the hustle and bustle of the BAU, while they were in the depths of a case, had the same feeling of a home.
As you rushed around the floor, placing files on desks and picking old ones up as you went, dropping soft thank you’s to the people in the office rounding the corner of Morgan’s desk, scooping his files from his desk and placing them in your own collection, “Merci, mon chou,” you thanked quickly.
Your co-worker smiled in response, “Anything for you, sweet talker,” he said, leaning back in his desk chair.
Scoffing, you shook your head. To Derek Morgan, anything said in French counted as sweet talking.
Balancing all of the files against your hip, you prepared to pick up the stack of papers on Spencer’s desk, but he stood up and gathered them in his own arms, “I’ll get them,” he offered. Although, it wasn’t much of an offer, seeing as he was already carrying his files.
It would be worse if you were to attempt to carry all of the files on your lonesome, so you decided to follow his lead to the file room.
Spencer was somewhat of a guiding light for you in the BAU. You considered yourself lucky to have been placed with a team that had two members who spoke French, which came in handy when you forgot certain English words, Emily and Spencer were usually there to save you.
Setting your files down on the spare table in the room, you started to organize them by which cabinet they went in as Spencer went ahead and returned his folders based on memory. “Do you think Morgan knows what you’re saying when you speak to him in French?”
Chuckling, you shook your head, “Non, mon cœur,” the words easily slipped out of your mouth. “I think Derek gave up on comprehending me the first week I joined the team,” you responded, checking the front and back of a file to make sure you were sorting it into the correct drawer.
“Yeah,” he agreed, “His English-to-French dictionary sits pretty untouched.” No one was of the mindset that you shouldn’t speak French at work, and you didn’t ask them to learn for you. Besides, work allowed you to strengthen your English skills.
Frowning at the same folder, you held the folder out to Spencer, “Do you know where this one goes?”
Accepting the folder from you, Spencer flipped through the first couple of pages before deftly slipping it into a drawer, “Sometimes I wish I could just know where things were, I’d never lose my car keys again.”
Spencer hummed in response, “I wish I spoke French like you.”
“Oh,” you said, “I think you speak French very well.”
Sliding another drawer shut, Spencer stepped over to a new one a few feet closer to you, “Thank you, but if I ever go to France, I’m taking you with me.”
You smiled to yourself at his proclamation, biting your tongue as the door swung open and Emily stepped in, “Hey, do you have that file on the Montana killer? I need it back.”
Spinning on your heel, you looked around for it, only to realize that it had already been put away, “Sorry,” you said, forgetting your proximity to Spencer as you stepped to the side.
He closed his drawer, “Pardonne moi, mon ange,” he said, grabbing a folder from your pile on the table and slipping out of the file room, “I still need this one.”
With Emily’s folder in your hand, you turned to look at your shell-shocked co-worker, “Did he...? And you two...?”
Thrusting the file in her direction, you looked at her with equally wide eyes, “Tais-toi.”
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bomberqueen17 · 1 year
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tone indicators
I reblogged this post without adding any commentary bc queue and not a lot of computer time lately but like okay here's the thing about tone indicators:
they're yet another in-group set of coded speech. like an inside joke, or a meme, or a conlang. if you are in a group that uses them, they're great and perfectly comprehensible.
but if you don't happen to have come from inside a group that uses them, they are exactly as exclusionary as any other heavy jargon or inside joke or acronym. I mean have you ever listened to soldiers talk? The US Army communicates in heavily jargon-ified speech, liberally laden with acronyms, so much so that it's a self-referential joke to make up obscene or deliberately-obfuscated ones to slip into official reports since the sorts of people who'd kick up a fuss about obscene language won't understand them.
It is exactly the same thing. Except that's exclusionary on purpose, and tone indicators are exclusionary in effect but tout themselves as inclusionary.
So if I, an outsider to this, am reading along, and after a sentence, there's a / and then between one and three letters, that is not enough information for me to use to look it up.
This is absolutely inaccessible if you are not alreadhy in the group that uses it.
I wouldn't mind if the people who used them were just like 'oh ha sorry jargon, i'll try to explain if it's not clear, sorry i forget you guys don't know them' just like any other inside joke or meme or whatever.
But I was in a discussion with someone on a Discord and when I was puzzled about them including these weird slash-acronyms after their statements they were like oh how nice for you that you're not neurodivergent and don't need to use these.
Uh no. The opposite actually. I'm the kind of neurodivergent that needs context. I handle being excluded from conversations very poorly. And that's where I get pissed off, that people seem to be holding these up as the new be-all end-all of Finally Solving The Problem Of Ambiguous Tones In Social Interaction. The hell you are, kids. They're just another layer, and I'd say the worst one yet, out of many many many attempts to solve this exact problem. They are fundamentally inaccessible. Don't mistake the fact that you learned them (somewhere, in some context inaccessible to me) for them actually being universal.
Considered against the many different solutions that have been offered since text-only speech was invented, tone indicators stack up as among the very least-accessible of the lot, since they contain so little context in and of themselves-- if a key is not provided then they're totally inaccessible, and are exceptionally difficult for non-native English speakers, and in general require so much memorization or cross-referencing as to be prohibitively hostile to outsiders.
And that's fine, if what your'e doing is just meant for talking to your friends. But don't come into my conversations and berate me for not having memorized whatever incomprehensible set of acronyms you've newly-decided are the new universal truth. And what drives me the most insane is how many of these acronyms someone has now decided to assign a whole new meaning to are acronyms that are well-known and already existed and are in heavy use. So if you try to look them up guess what you get! is it gonna be the newly-created version or the one that's been in use for fifty to seventy-five years??
For one, P.O.S. has had a specific meaning in written and spoken English for a really damn long time and if you call me a piece of shit in the actual language I speak I am absolutely not going to interpret your conlang as having intended something nice. (YES REALLY THEY'RE USING THAT ONE TRY TO GUESS WHAT IT MEANS. NO. NO! I know. Fuck! That's wild. Absolutely the fuck not.)
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whatifyoulivelikethat · 2 months
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a really great (love?) story, m | kth
pairing(s): taehyung x reader
summary: Hot summer. South of France. On vacation with your younger brother's friends. Uh. Well, might as well make the most of it, despite Kim Taehyung making his weird comments every now and then. That damn French waiter put ideas in his head.
warnings: rated M (18+) for language; Taehyung is obv trying to rizz up reader and reader is having none of it (but secretly likes it, keke); smut (fem reader, fingering, m-receiving oral); romantic and hella fluff; non-idol!AU; friends-to-lovers
I bought Tae's photobook and this is the result, what can I say, he's really pretty
--
“We’d make a really great love story.”
You grimaced and raised an eyebrow. “I don’t think so.”
He frowned. His tan skin sparkled in the sun while you stayed curled up under the shade of a white beach umbrella, extra bundled in a wide straw hat and a flowy white linen cover up over a black and red sporty bikini. Even in this heat, you kept a bright yellow beach towel over your legs, not taking any chances with the blaring fireball in the sky.
Kim Taehyung asked you a question.
“Would you date me?”
You answered honestly.
“Nope.”
“Why?”
“You're too good-looking and that'll only bring trouble.”
His crochet shirt was gone, leaving him in hip-hugging dark teal baggy shorts with white stripes down the sides. His dark brown hair was damp from the ocean, tangled over his forehead. When he smiled at your reply, he showed all his teeth in a boxy grin. Your indifferent expression didn’t change. You held onto your book. You continued to show your displeasure as he ran off, long legs and rippling back muscles, knowing full well you would soon be bothered again. Sigh. You turned the next page of your book, listening to the sounds of a rambunctious volleyball game, and wondered again why you had accepted your younger brother’s request.
Damn kid fractured his ankle right before his vacation. Non-refundable plane ticket to Europe. South of France, to be exact. Hot as fuck this time of year. He didn’t want to go because it would be a pain for his friends and he wouldn’t be able to have fun, he said. That and you knew he would rather your parents dote on him all day in prime air conditioning rather than sweat it out with fear-of-missing-out. You told him you had plenty of male friends that would be interested, but your brother insisted you needed to get that stick out of your ass and have a vacation.
So, here you were.
On vacation with your younger brother’s friends. On a beach, reading a book, and, oh, look, here comes Kim Taehyung with a bowl of frozen grapes, yelling your name.
Being annoyed.
The other guys were polite. They always asked if you wanted to join in any of the activities. Some days you stayed back at the rented beach property and puttered around, reading, resting, staring at the view. To be fair, you did try some of activities, such as spending all day on the golf course being really terrible at golf. When your head turned away, some of the boys would move your ball closer to the hole so you could maintain some dignity. Nice kids. You even accompanied them to a night beach club – and saw some things that you will never speak of, yikes – and danced with a couple European guys. At some places, you translated for them when you could. Thankfully, a lot of people in the touristy areas spoke some English. Studying English literature at university hadn’t been useless after all. Although, watching a bunch of Korean guys try to hand-gesture their way in conversations was pretty damn funny. In short, so far it was a surprisingly fun and nice vacation.
Until you went with Taehyung to a fancy café wanted to visit, you being his just-in-case English translator, and the waiter mistook you two as a couple.
That was awkward.
“Oh, no, sorry. Just friends.”
It was probably Taehyung feeding you his chocolate croissant. At first, you were going to refuse, but the pastries had been pretty expensive, and you had wanted to try a bite so he had held it out and let you chomp. Then things got weird once he lifted his hand with a laugh and wiped away from chocolate from the edge of your lip, licking it off his thumb.
You did get a free lemon macaron for being a cute couple once you immediately clarified that you weren’t.
The waiter had winked. Taehyung had just smiled because he didn’t understand.
Awesome.
Once you explained, the relentless teasing began. Well, maybe teasing was the wrong word. Taehyung would just say weird shit with a grin and those sparkly brown eyes of his. Because the other guys were not interested in cute pastries or pretty photo ops spots as seen on TikTok, Taehyung finally had a chance to see these places, using you as an excuse to drag you around at dawn or dusk when the main activities weren’t happening. You had probably taken about five hundred photos of Taehyung by now.
He was very photogenic, at least.
“I think you would look good in these,” he would say during one of the many shopping trips, holding up a pair of chocolate brown, slim sunglasses.
“I’m not as a dress-up doll,” you would grumble as you removed your current cat-eye-shaped dark lenses so he could delicately place the new ones on your nose and survey his handiwork. He would tilt your head this way and that and nod to himself solidly.
“I’m going to buy them, so you have to wear them.”
Thus, you now ticked your new sunglasses down and raised your eyebrow at him as he handed you the bowl of frozen grapes. You weren’t sure what he was playing at, but then he ran off to the guys playing volleyball and act like he hadn’t done anything strange. Hah. You would catch him looking back at you while you were sucking on said grapes and roll your eyes. Was that a smirk or a residual smile from the game?
“A hot summer romance sounds fun, right?”
“Go off, then,” you replied dryly, turning the page of your book.
It was nighttime now. The guys were getting ready to go bar-hopping. You heard some hushed whispers of coming back to jump into the sea at night while drunk. Idiots. You would possibly have to play lifeguard if they followed through on being idiots. Sigh. You elected to stay behind this time, to keep the lights on and all that. You had a few packs of ramyeon in your suitcase for such drunken nights. Nothing like spicy Buldak to finish off a spicy night.
Taehyung poked your shoulder. You knew it was him because of his low whisper and his inability to stop giggling at saying ridiculous shit. You waved a hand.
“Come with us.”
“I don’t need to see you boys twerking on table again. No thanks.”
You heard him suck on his teeth, disappointed. “Join in then.”
“That is a little too weird to be doing around my lil bro’s friends, even for me.”
You glanced at him. Despite his dark, strong features, Taehyung still held that boyish charm. Or maybe it was because you couldn’t see past him being your younger brother’s friend, so he always seemed like a kid to you. He was very popular among the locals. Every time you all stepped out, people would be flocking to speak to him even though Taehyung didn’t know any French (or English, for that matter). Didn’t seem to bother anyone though.
It must be his unquestionably handsome, expressive face.
Hm.
You looked up from your book about science, sex, and murder, to encounter Kim Taehyung’s pouty expression. He was wearing a linen white and sky-blue two-piece set. Short sleeve button up and shorts, complete with floppy brown sandals. He perked up at your acknowledgement. In contrast to his summer heartthrob vibe, you wore a low-waisted long black maxi skirt, a tight black tank, and a draping dark brown lace cardigan. The cardigan color matched his eyes and the slim sunglasses perched on your head that you soon wouldn’t need anymore. The sun was slipping down to bed.
One of the guys called out to you. “Noona, do you want anything while we’re out?”
“We can pick up a man for ya!” Another chimed in loudly with a snort.
Taehyung’s expression darkened.
“Just make sure to do a head count,” you shot back. “Everyone better stay safe or there’ll be hell to pay.”
“Ooookay!”
You caught Taehyung’s look. Didn’t say anything about it. He sighed and headed off to the kitchen with purpose as the other men began to pile out of the room. You figured he was pre-gaming or getting some water. You went back to the pages, only to start as you saw a glass and a chilled bottle of white wine slide in front of you.
Dark eyes looked down at you.
You gazed at him over the top of your book.
Reached up and untangled the sunglasses Kim Taehyung had gifted you. You placed them on the counter, next to the wine glass. He turned and left. The guys crowded by the door, gathering their things and laughing. One of them came back and handed you their gold watch – “I don’t want to break it by accident” “You mean, you don’t want to accidentally give it away because you get too happy when drunk?” – giggling with a silly grin and thanking you quickly before running out the door.
Before the door closed, you noticed Taehyung shooting you an enigmatic expression.
You ticked your head and looked back without much expression.
The wine was pretty good, but you didn’t have more than two glasses.
You remembered to put the watch on the appropriate nightstand before heading out to the back porch and reading as the sun went down. It was nice to read by the sunset waves in relative calm. You must have fallen asleep somehow, breathing in the sea and sounds of summer, only to be woken up by a gentle hand on your shoulder, calling your name from far away.
Hazy and deep.
“Hm?”
You shook your head and sat up, seeing Kim Taehyung looking back at you.
“Oh? What are you doing back so soon?” you yawned behind your hand, tucking your bookmark between the pages. “Or is it later than I thought?”
He shook his head of dark waves. He smelled a little like alcohol, but not too bad. “They’re still out. I told them my tummy didn’t feel too good.”
“Ah.” You chuckled. “Too much cheese this afternoon?”
There was a lantern on the back porch, along with a few lounge chairs and low lights that snapped away any pesky bugs. An orange glow dipped over you both. Taehyung had this look in his eyes that you had seen before, although not from him specifically. You were pretty sure every guy on this vacation had considered the same thing, although you had given them none of them a reason to fuck around and find out.
He gave you his puppy-like smile.
You gave him your usual cat-like expression that didn’t mean anything at all.
“You should go lie down,” you recommended.
“You’re my total opposite, I think,” Taehyung responded, which had nothing to do with anything. You didn’t respond to that, but you didn’t tell him he was wrong either. “I wonder what you’re like with your friends.”
You thought about the last time you were in a karaoke session with your few female friends. It had ended with one friend ragdolled on a stretcher and another girl dead asleep in your bathroom until noon of the next day. Stretcher girl was fine after some fluids and a nice, cute, hot male nurse making sure she was okay.
You had hooked up with him as a thanks. For yourself. And him, sorta.
“Girls are different than boys,” and you left it at that.
He raised his hand, spreading his fingers out.
You stared at it.
Taehyung reached over with his other hand and took yours, lifting it up and placing your palm to his.
You blinked slowly.
He was warm, as was the night air. Your hand was smaller, of course, but he wouldn’t be able to engulf it that easily. His palm was rough and worn from summer. From sun, from spiking a volleyball, from swimming in the salty sea. Yours was still soft from turning pages and sipping wine.
“I always thought you would want a very pretty, elegant girl who enjoys pink, parties, and flowers,” you commented, not yet removing your hand.
You did not go around perusing thoughts of your younger brother’s friends’ love lives, because that would be fucking weird. But it was a thought. Especially when you witnessed them get into or fall out of relationships. High school had been… yup. You had covered for lil bro and the boys a few too many times; you were a much better liar. With your parents usually gone for work, you were usually the one in charge, which meant you often played babysitter to way too many idiots. For some reason, over the years, they liked to ask for your opinion of their prospective girlfriends. You suspected it was because this course of action was safer than immediately introducing them to their mothers who were much scarier when it came to their sons. After all the question was always, what would my mom think of this person? You had tried to distance yourself as they all became older, but, alas.
Somehow you always got dragged back in to looking after them.
“There has to be a flower you like,” Taehyung insisted. “There are so many flowers in the world.”
You thought about it for a moment. “I like snowdrops.”
His face brightened. “Ah, yeah, that suits you. I see it.”
Your hands were still touching, palm-to-palm.
You tilted your head.
Taehyung didn’t move his hand away.
“I always thought you were a very pretty, elegant girl who enjoys black, quiet time, and snowdrops,” he said slowly, dreamily, his words turned into honey by his smooth, low voice.
You pointed out the obvious. “I only just told you I like snowdrops.” You scoffed lightheartedly. “And I enjoy quiet time because you all are so damn noisy.”
The sparkle in Taehyung’s eyes dulled a bit.
“Have you ever thought about it?”
You recalled him saying he told the others his stomach hurt. He must have picked up a thing or two from you over the years.
“About candlelit dinners? About going on night walks, buying convenience store snacks, and eating it at the kids’ playground when no one is around?” Taehyung asked one question after another. “About standing in the rain? Sharing an umbrella? Holding hands? About that leather jacket I have, borrowing it when you’re a bit cold, standing beside each other, waiting for the midnight train?”
He interlocked his fingers with yours.
You didn’t react much, other than saying, “You do look like the male lead in a romance drama, Kim Taehyung.”
The obvious was being avoided.
After a long moment, Taehyung let go of your hand, stood up, and went to his room.
You tried to put it out of your mind.
The night was warm enough that you napped a little more. Woke up a few hours later to make ramyeon and hydrate the group, earning many drunken handshakes of enthusiastic thanks. You stayed up a bit with them, learning of the night’s exploits despite the incoherent mess of their speech, and then sent them off to bed, one by one. Cleaned up, stared at the moon for a long time, and then headed to your room. Unlike the others, you weren’t sharing a room. It was small and cozy, as expected. You placed your book by your nightstand and sat in the dark.
You weren’t quite sleepy yet, but you got ready for bed anyway.
A few years ago, you and Taehyung had a… moment.
A very fleeting moment.
It had happened at bar. You had been turning the corner in the hallway to the bathrooms, and a hand grabbed your arm, yanking hard. Your body twisted, instantly on alert, but one look at the other person, and the shock had stopped you from pulling away, thereby allowing a drunken Kim Taehyung kiss you.
The contact had been in less than a second.
He had smelled like warm leather and musky embers.
Taehyung had immediately pulled away, sputtering your name, surprised that you both found yourselves at the same bar, the inopportune fate causing this fateful accident.
“I’m sorry, I thought you were someone else – how… when…?”
You had shaken your head quickly, turning, your passing whisper by his ear.
“Forget about it.”
You entered the bathroom as a girl rounded the corner and fell into Taehyung’s arms.
At that time, you had chalked it up to weird timing. A random encounter. You had been hooking up with a different guy in Daegu. Taehyung was from there, so it wasn’t totally improbable that you could cross paths. Bold move by him. Wasn’t unheard of, though. Guys could be like that. Girls liked that stuff. When you left the bathroom, the couple was gone, which was a relief. You had gone about your night and it ended as expected. That guy had a great ass. It had ended on good terms, but ended all the same.
You wondered what made him bring it up again.
After all, he was the type of man he was, always surrounded by people vying for his attention.
He knew the type of woman you were.
Well, you had started getting a reputation among Daegu men.
After a moment of reminiscing, you stood up to pull back the curtain at your window. Your room was on the lower floor, next to the back porch, and, like a dream, there he was, Kim Taehyung against the rail, leaning over it to look towards the ocean.
You blinked slowly.
He wasn’t exactly looking inside the house, but he must have noticed your movement, because his head turned, and now you were entangled in eye contact broken by a thin pane of glass.
The shadows danced across his face. The lantern light was off but the lower lights along the ground path were still on. For safety, likely. He was only wearing a pair of white, tie-front linen pants. You wondered if Taehyung had been waiting for you or if he was simply admiring the summer night. Hard to tell. A soft breeze ruffled through his dark hair. You stood in your room, one hand on the floral curtain, the other on the button placket of your black silk pajamas. Short sleeved and shorts, breezy and slinky, perfect for the summer weather.
Moonlight shimmered off his bare chest.
After a moment, Taehyung backed away from the rail. You watched him step down the porch and walk over to stand under your window.
He tapped the glass.
You opened it.
Those dark eyes stared at you, blocking the light with his frame.
The window opened inward, a vintage latch at the center to split the two panes. You leaned out a bit, bending slightly, and now you and him were at eye level, surrounded by the salted scent of the sea instead of the dark hallway of a bar next to the bathrooms.
“You stomach didn’t actually hurt, did it?” you asked.
Taehyung smiled, but didn’t reply.
Instead, he too leaned forward a bit, inhaling softly. You had a tendency to spray your perfume in your hair. It lasted longer that way. He could probably smell it off your hair right now.
“I thought I would be fine,” he said, looking into your eyes.
You didn’t say anything.
“I thought I could forget about it,” he breathed in that deep honey voice of his.
Your eyes shifted past his, then back.
You placed your elbows on the windowsill and leaned out. You inside. Him outside. Taehyung seemed like he was searching for something in your expression. You didn’t give him anything. You wondered what he would do. The alcohol must have worn off by now. You weren’t feeling the glasses of excellent white wine anymore, at least. You remembered how the French women at the night beach club had held his arms and leaned against him, complimenting his smile and cooing over his perfect skin and beautiful dark hair. He hadn’t stopped them.
But, also, Taehyung was closing the distance right now, his warm cologne entering your private space.
“Why couldn’t you forget?” you asked, his lips centimeters from yours, viewing him through lashes.
His head was already tilted. His eyes flickered up, having lowered by instinct.
“Couldn’t help but think that you would make a wonderful female lead in a romance novel.”
You smiled, noting the detail between your words and his.
His lips pressed against yours.
You held it for a moment. Soft, deep, breathing in the scent of each other. You drew apart, hearing him suck in a breath hastily. Half-smiled, amused by his nervousness. He raised his head. You shared a questioning look. The night ocean sang, soft waves lapping at the shore.
You tilted your head towards the inside of your room.
Taehyung hesitated for a second, but only for a second.
Less than a minute later, he slipped into your room. Opened and closed the door as quietly as the old wood would allow. You paused, wondering if he had a whole script memorized, being the romantic and all, but Taehyung lifted his eyes and it seemed like he forgot everything. It seemed you had to be the one to make a move. You still stood by the open window, in your black silk pajamas. Night bathed in moonlight.
Well, you did have a reputation among Daegu men. One more couldn’t hurt.
You lifted your hand, palm towards Taehyung.
He closed the distance, almost soundless, and lifted his hand too. Palm to palm. You looked down at your touching hands, then back up at him. He was quite tall, but he wasn’t imposing his presence over you.
“You think we would make a really great love story?”
The moon caught a hint of his blush.
“You don’t think so?” he replied, unsure in the wake of you teasing back for once.
You were honest with him.
“I really don’t know.”
You angled your hand slightly so your fingers and his no longer overlapped.
“You have to be sure that you’re okay with that.”
You let your eyes linger on his chest on purpose before raising your head to make eye contact. The memory of his lips lingered. It was just like how you remembered it, even from that rushed, barely a second, frozen-in-time moment.
His kiss, however brief, had a lasting, forever type of feeling.
“You asked me if I had ever thought about it.”
His eyes widened a little bit as you mentioned the previous conversation. Like a movie, the instances played back in your head. The accidental kiss. The awkward silences when you both found yourselves alone in the smallest of moments before brushing past each other. You noticed Taehyung dating on and off, yet not committing to anyone. The times when he would notice you with other guys and quickly look away, as if he witnessed something dirty or wrong. His behavior wasn’t intrusive. He didn’t push you towards anyone, but he didn’t pull you away either.
“Not really,” you admitted. “Mostly because I didn’t think you would want the challenge.”
Taehyung stared into your eyes, slipping his fingers in between yours, holding your hand tightly.
“I think I needed to grow up a little.”
You raised your eyebrows. Looked him up and down. “Seems like you grew a lot.”
He laughed, then toned it down despite the house currently snores abode. You knew what he meant and he knew the double meaning you implied. You lifted your other hand. His chuckling died down, watching. He tensed as the pads of your fingers made contact with his forearm, walking up his muscle.
“You had a plan, hm?”
Your whisper melted into the moonlight.
“I was…” His breath stilled when you stopped. You glanced up, your fingertips poised at the bend of his elbow. “I was… going to ask you what kind of lover you are.”
You ticked your head, not yet moving your hand. “What about you?”
Taehyung’s dark eyes were barely visible under his hair fallen over his forehead.
“Yours.”
You paused.
His shoulder lifted in the lightest of shrugs.
“I heard you’re really good. Sometimes rough.”
Word got around then.
“I’m really good. Sometimes soft. So, we will balance out,” he said with a smile.
You removed your hand from his skin.
Your whisper so low it was nearly a growl.
“Is that what you think?”
The fingers of your raised hand spread. Curved. Danced over his neck. Taehyung started slightly at the contact of your middle finger sliding over his throat, your eyes locked with his, and you traced up, into the pocket of his jaw, closing your fingers around the back of his head and pulling his face down to yours.
And you kissed him.
Slow. Soft and intense at the same time, drawing in your breath. For a moment, Taehyung was suspended in surprise before leaning in, gasping against your lips, tangled in your tongue before he knew it. His own hand came up to cup your cheek, more to stabilize himself than for the passion, but then it all meshed together, kiss after kiss. One hand tangled in his hair and the other resting in the dip of his warm chest. He had one hand on your face and the other skimming along your elbow.
Surrounded by salt air and shadows.
You broke the kiss, pulling back with a sigh.
You half-expected him to retreat. Taehyung was one to flirt and not back it up. You were one to not flirt; instead, the first to move. He must have known that. For once, you played the role of the gentlemen this time, waiting for his choice. Toying with a half-smile on your lips, the erratic rise and fall of his built chest under your fingertips. Racing heart. Lingering taste. His dark eyes surveyed you under the messiness of his beach-loved hair.
In silence, you stared into his eyes, daring him to sin.
There must have been something in the French night air.
Taehyung tilted his head, feathering air-light kisses over your jaw. Your neck. You tilted your head back, to the side, letting out a sensual exhale at the tingling of your pulse. Your fingers touched the button placket of your pajamas, leisurely unbuttoning one by one. You felt his fingers ghost over one shoulder, pushing it down, exposing skin to air.
He spun you around, pressing your back to his chest.
You leaned your head back against his collarbone, silk draping down your arms.
Felt him whisper your name into your ear, low and tainted with lust.
His hands covered your chest, fingers spread, large palms hovering, statuesque in pose. Demure for half a second. Moonlight streaming over your torso. You arched your back, and Taehyung sucked in a breath, feeling your naked breasts fill his hands. His lips brushed against your neck, shuddering, and you rubbed your hard nipples into his rough palms, grazing your ass over his crotch.
“Fuck…”
You turned your head, viewing him from your periphery, melting into his touch without a word.
Your hands migrated to his sides, sliding down, adorning his hips with your curved fingers.
Taehyung moaned softly, his eyes closing. Hands all over your chest, igniting desire. Hungry but deliberate, no sense in rushing, moving to the sound of the sea. His erection pressed into the dip of your ass, linen and silk separating the skin to skin but not enough to hide the hardness to softness. Exhale. His arms crossed over your chest, soft lips on the base of your neck, and you felt him ghost his fingers down, down, past your bellybutton, dancing over the waistband of your shorts.
With one swift movement, you turned your wrist and covered the back of his hand with yours, dragging him in between the layers.
He gasped as he felt your slick wetness coat his fingertips.
Your other hand slid into his pants, grabbing his ass, pinning Taehyung to you while you pressed his fingers into the outer lips, rocking your hips into it, grinding on his growing arousal, grinning when you heard him swear under his breath again.
He shoved a finger into you.
You both moaned at the same time, the sound drowned by the crashing tide outside.
You pressed another in, and he got the hint. Middle and ring finger, his palm pressed to your throbbing clit, and you rode his hand before he moved, blossoming the pleasure all on your own. His moan rumbled in his chest, biting his lip to avoid any obvious noise. The wet sucking sound was conspicuous enough, and you tightened your core, your pussy clenching around his fingers, prompting Taehyung to lean his chin onto your shoulder, his dark hair brushing against your cheekbone, one hand teasing your nipples, the other between your legs, delicious sparks flying through your body knowing he was actively watching.
“The sounds you make… are insane…”
You weren’t aware until he said it. Soft, breathless gasps drifted out of your own lips, inaudible to anyone except for the inescapable closeness of Taehyung pinning you to his tense body. You could feel the shake creep down to your legs, your silk shorts slipping down your thighs, the fullness of each thrust making your lightheaded. And then, you felt Taehyung slightly curve his fingers.
You sucked in a breath, your eyes shutting, seeing stars, pleasure and want increasing tenfold.
“A-Ah, yes… Taehyung…”
His name polluted by sensuality. Foreign but not unwelcome. A sudden arousing surge of lovely wrongness – after all, you should not be fucking one of your younger brother’s closest friends – but you could tell it had an effect on him too. He squeezed your nipple, making you hiss, and then you felt his tongue flat against the side of your neck, sliding up, his breath hot, his impossibly deep voice husky, his command pleading.
“Cum for me.”
You raised yourself to tiptoes, the curve of your ass against his twitching bulge, and sank your nails into his hip as you came, spilling onto his palm in vibrating shivers, delicately moaning to the ceiling. The intense high rushed up your center, through your limbs, all over your nerves, and you let it take over, shuddering, growing limp in Taehyung’s flexed arms.
As expected, he did not drop you.
You stayed in the heady fog of orgasm, slowly waking as if in a lucid dream. Turned your head and found his lips, or perhaps his lips found yours. It was hard to tell. You drew his tongue into your mouth, sucking on it, sensing a growing desperation in the shallowness of his breath.
You pried your fingernails from his hip, rueful. “I got carried away. My bad.”
A hint of a mischievous smirk on Taehyung’s lips. “I never said I didn’t like it.”
You questioned him with half-moon eyes.
“Someone might see.”
The smirk morphed into more of a roguish smile. There he was. “I can say I got scratched up while roughhousing. They’re not gonna think twice about it,” he teased.
“Tch. Tricky, tricky, aren’t you, Kim Taehyung?”
You twisted like a dancer, breaking from his embrace. He let you go, somewhat reluctantly. His right hand was still glistening, covered in your orgasm. He glanced at it, mesmerized, before realizing you were kicking away your shorts and panties, tossing your unbuttoned top onto the bed. His eyes widened when your hand came into contact with his chest. You slid down. In one swift movement, you lowered to a squat, right in front of the massive tent in his pants.
Taehyung had but a second to intake a breath.
You grazed your palm down his stomach, his bellybutton, to the tie of his pants. Tugged on it, unlacing it, and then you hooked your thumbs onto the sides of the waistband and pushed them down.
Part of you was mildly shocked Taehyung was going commando.
The other part of you thought that was pretty on brand for him.
You weren’t too surprised by what you saw. He was well-kept, clean, and not fully hard yet. The latter was mostly a guess from experience. It wasn’t polite to stereotype Daegu men, but, well. If the shoe fit and all that. You raised your eyes, amused at his stunned expression, and then leaned forward to lick along the thickening length.
“Oh, shit…”
He must have expected you to simply put his cock in your mouth or wrap your hand around it. Instead, you pressed your lips to the hot, velvety skin, decorating him with kisses before flickering out your tongue and wrapping it over the head, rubbing your lips against the underside. Back and forth, curling your tongue around the swelling tip, licking off the leaking pre-cum.
He tasted strong. More enjoyable than most.
You looked up as you worked his shaft. Taehyung gasped and his cock twitched as if to affirm his attraction.
“F-Fuck, what…?”
“You should taste my cum while I suck you off,” you murmured against his balls, licking them all over as you spoke.
He wasn’t used to the multiple sensations. You could tell by his heavy pants and the tension rippling all over his torso. How unfortunate, but you would make up for that right now.
“O-Okay… fuck…”
You watched Taehyung slide his fingers into his open lips and his eyes rolled back, groaning deeply as your essence hit his tongue. In one fluid flick of your head, you swallowed his cock, relaxing as your lips pressed to the base, feeling his girth stretch out your throat. You lowered your tongue, bringing him deeper, and perhaps it was a good idea to have Taehyung lick his fingers off. His shocked whine was stifled by his own hand. You paid it no mind, slowly pulling back and diving forward, his scent filling your nose every time you inhaled, catching glimpses of him sliding his fingers in out of his mouth with each ascent.
Somehow Taehyung made the depraved act look almost dreamy.
Your fingertips balanced on the floorboards, lowering your knees to better support yourself. Not using your hands out of pride. You even leaned your head back, both to gain more air and to take him deeper with less resistance. You saw Taehyung pull his fingers out of his mouth, strings of saliva beading on his lower lip, balancing his fingers by his shivering exhales as he watched you, entranced.
You let the pleasure reflect in your eyes.
“How… wow… fuck, your tits and thighs look so good at this angle…”
The strain was prickling through your limbs. You were far too engrossed in your task to care, feeling your pussy dampen from the intoxicating adrenaline, closing your eyes to focus on the pace. Steady, intense, listening to the deepening sound of his groan, his cock throbbing in your throat, signaling he was close, and then his voice ceased, suspended, lost in the warm, encompassing reverie.
His hips tensed, snapping forward, and Taehyung gasped your name.
His hot orgasm gushed onto the back of your tongue, filling your mouth with the viscous, heady flavor, making you as lightheaded as he sounded. Through his jerking length you could feel the flinches ravage his body, and all of a sudden his large hand pressed against the back of your head, holding you down to the brink of danger.
You swallowed, trying to grasp for a sliver of oxygen.
Taehyung almost doubled over, his erotic cry muffled by his other hand slapping over his mouth, and he half-pulled out of your closed lips, only to slide back in again, slowly, groaning above your head. He was trying to keep quiet and contain his sound within the walls of this room. Everyone else in the house was probably too drunk to string a sentence together, let alone figure out sex was happening under the same roof, but it was best not to take any chances.
His expansive girth was trembling, softening as his sensitivity increased. None of that stopped him from continuing to thrust in post-orgasmic bliss, lengthening his pleasure. You swirled your tongue around him and Taehyung trembled, whispering sweet nothings like smoke, his words melding with the melodic sound of ocean waves.
After a few more thrusts, his grip lessened, backing off.
You drew back, licking your lips, throwing your head back, breathing in a long, greedy gulp of fresh salty air. There was something ethereal about the whole scene. If it wasn’t for the ache in your knees, you might have been deceived into thinking it never happened. His memorable taste was still on your tongue. You swallowed again, and then felt a hand on your elbow.
Wordlessly, you opened your eyes and let Taehyung lift you to your feet.
He stared at you, his hair over his eyes, breathing hard. His chest glistened in the moonlight. The rest of him was shadowed by your naked body.
“I…”
You waited.
“I… I should have asked if you…” He trailed off, grasping your arm tightly.
You half-smiled. “You thought I wouldn’t want to?”
There seemed to be a pink flush on his cheeks. His ears were certainly turning red. “I first wanted to ask you… No, Invite you on a proper date. Not on this vacation but… sometime soon?”
You couldn’t help but tease him. “Why so nervous when we’re naked in front of each other?”
Taehyung spared a glance down and then blushed deeper, clearing his throat. “I don’t know. I’m not usually nervous.” His dark eyes drifted back to your face. “I always thought you were beautiful. But too good for me.”
That almost made you laugh. “Too good? You know my reputation, Taehyung, and ‘good’ does not describe it.”
He shook his head.
Tugged on your arm, pulling you towards him.
“Yin and yang.”
He brought his forehead down, touching yours.
“You need both to have a really great love story.”
You breathed in his rich, warm scent, and leaned in to kiss him again. The sea, the salt air, the heat between you and him, burning, and the next day you were sitting under the beach umbrella again, laying on a teak lounger, book in hand, chocolate brown sunglasses perched on the end of your nose, secretly observing sun-kissed Kim Taehyung diving into the foamy waves as he snuck glances back at you, admiring your watchful form.
You smiled in shade as Taehyung dazzled in the sun.
--
masterpost
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spncvr · 7 months
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waiting room | s. reid
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summary: spencer can't seem to escape the girl in the waiting room
pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader
warnings: mentions of reid's addiction & tobias hankel, mentions of kidnapping and mass shootings (in, like, a joking way??) my terrible, terrible humour, ENGLISH IS NOT MY FIRST LANGUAGE LMAO, this is deffo terrible, pls tell me if i missed anything!!
a/n: ok idk if i wanna continue this and make it a series so lmk lol (also im on writers block so i literally can't come up with SHIT)
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SPENCER REID WAS a pessimist.
At least, that’s what he’d call himself. His colleague, Derek Morgan would most likely (and by most likely, he means, definitely already has) call him an overanalysing introvert. But in Spencer’s defense, there has never really been a good reason to go out and “live your life”. Consider this:
Go to the new coffee shop? Mass shooting.
Go to the mall? A child gets abducted.
Leave the apartment for a short while? A stalker finds out where he lives, kidnaps him in his sleep, and, in a nightmarish turn, auctions off his organs to the bidder in the black market.
Besides, his life isn’t some John Green book. There were no life-affirming adventures or poetic moments of self-discovery awaiting him. Carpe diem? A fanciful notion for others, but for him, not so much. Sorry, Mr. Keating.
Yet life—or more accurately, bureau protocol— had its own plans. Ever since the Tobias Hankel incident, a visit to the psychologist wasn’t just a request but rather (unfortunately for him) an order. Which meant, he’d have to risk his entire life to get up and walk for ten whole minutes just to sit and wait, in this glaringly bright waiting room, when he could have stayed at home and read the new books he’d gotten from his team as a get-well gift.
Speaking of which, why the gifts? He was fine. Physically, at least. But really, when have you ever seen get-well-soon cards in an asylum? Well, alright, maybe he was being a little bit dramatic. A visit to the psychologist doesn’t mean he’ll be institutionalised—but then again, Spencer Reid was never one to wear rose-tinted glasses. 
This is his third time in the waiting room, and she’s always there. He isn’t sure as to why she is, because, well, unlike himself, she was very clearly an optimist—and at least, from the looks of it, she hasn’t been kidnapped and drugged in the past month. But she's sitting there again, in the exact same chair for the past three weeks, along with a beacon of smiles where joy usually fears to trend. Maybe, he isn't as good of a profiler as he’d like to think he is.
“Dr. Reid?” the call of his name rips him out of his thoughts. He looks up to see the same kind woman he’s seen the past three weeks—not the one in the waiting room, no, he means his therapist.
Dr. Brown was easy to profile: She wore heels to make herself look taller, and she hated wearing glasses, apparent by how she would continuously place them atop her head instead of her nose. Her teeth were abnormally perfect, which meant, she’d had to wear braces when she was younger—which (from his humbling experience) means she wasn’t exactly the most popular at school. Perhaps, psychology felt appealing to her because she could help people like her. 
“How are you?” she asks, her pen clicking.
Usually, he’d offer her a meek shrug. The kind that could win awards for its commitment to non-commitment. Besides, he’s not one to talk about how he feels—there isn’t much to say, anyway. And let’s face it,  “How are you?” in the grand tapestry of human interaction is almost as genuine as a three-dollar bill. And, get this, the average person asks “How are you?” 6,739 times a year but only listens to the answer about half the time—well, okay, maybe those numbers might have been fabricated, but isn’t the sincerity behind the question also made up? But instead of telling her all this, he remembers what Hotch had told him, one, two, three weeks ago: that he ought to cooperate with Dr. Brown or the board won’t be happy. So, he kisses his teeth before he says:
“Fine. I’m fine.”
And the session went on.
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PLS TELL ME IF I SHLD CONTIUE OR NOT LOLOLOL spam my inbox with ideas I BEG.
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overtake · 12 days
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I’m sorry we need about 5k more words of mechanic Daniel driver max pls and ty!!!
Part One
I’m actually so shocked (but pleasantly surprised and honored!) by people enjoying this verse because I almost deleted it without posting. I don’t have 5k more, but I can offer 1.2k!
I still lowkey hate this - and you can definitely tell I have no vision for where this story would go, hence why it’s just harping on the same 3 details we already knew - but it’s all yours and I hope you have a good time reading it anyway :)
Five minutes into pretending to examine an engine instead of obsess over what Max said, Daniel breaks.
“Did you mention me to Max?” he asks Cyril, trying to come across casual.
Cyril looks at him disbelievingly. “Max Verstappen is in our garage and you think I talked about you at all?”
Daniel lifts a hand to his chest and feigns being shot. “People love me, you know. Guys are all over this.”
Cyril heaves out a long-suffering sigh. “Get to work, Daniel.”
Daniel’s lucky, given his condition, that everything is relatively routine today. He does three oil changes, and he could kiss those people’s feet for it.
He’s mentally preparing himself to slide under a car, wincing at much more congested he’ll be once he emerges again, when Max suddenly appears in the corner of the garage.
“Hello,” he says. He does a cute little half-wave to get Daniel’s attention.
“Hey,” Daniel says, straightening and rubbing his grimy hands on his thighs. “Cyril’s working on your car, so he’ll have any updates you need.”
“It’s not my car, just a rental,” Max dismisses. “No, I just have …” He cuts himself off, turns a sweet pink on the apples of his cheeks. “You sounded sick earlier and looked really pale. I brought you soup.”
He lifts a takeaway bag from the cafe down the street, which usually specializes in ten dollar lattes and sandwiches with names so cutesy, you have to practice five times to order without shame.
Daniel smiles at the idea of Max Verstappen, world champion, saying one of those horrible names for Daniel’s benefit. “You didn’t have to do that. Thank you. Let me pay you back.”
Max shakes his head. “It’s my thanks for fixing the car.”
Daniel raises his eyebrows. “So what soup did you get Cyril, who’s actually doing that?”
Max scrunches his nose in disgust. “You cannot expect me to say the name Noodle Nest Paradise more than one time.”
“How many times did you laugh trying to get that out?”
Max shudders. “I pretended to speak really bad English and just pointed at the menu.”
“So you could’ve ordered multiple,” Daniel points out. Max very blatantly pretends not to hear. He focuses instead on pulling a little bag from the order and holding it up proudly, smiling a crinkly-eyed smile.
“I got you crackers!”
Eating soup with Max Verstappen is an out of body experience.
Daniel’s been eating his soup over the coffee table in the office because it felt wrong to make Max sit at the grimy, wobbly table in the closet-sized corner of the garage where Daniel and Cyril usually change and scarf down meals. This, however, means they’re stuck together on the loveseat. Max’s expensive skinny jeans knock knees with Daniel’s greasy coveralls when they get too into the conversation.
Daniel knows he’s being a terrible conversationalist, especially at first. His normal easy charisma is buried somewhere in the pile of tissues he’s burning through. He’s basically just answering Max’s rapid-fire questions about his life, his job, his family, his non-existent partner (“do you have a girlfriend or boyfriend or anything?” Max had asked, and looked remarkably pleased by Daniel’s answer of no).
Daniel’s about 87% sure he’s being hit on right now. It’s a nice confidence booster given how much of a mess he looks, but it’s not like it matters. Max is Max, and Max is F1, and Max doesn’t live here.
He likes Max, though, the longer they talk. He likes his eagerness, his down-to-earth nature, his total lack of interest in discussing racing. Max delights in all Daniel’s behaviours that usually make people roll their eyes and wait for him to be done, whereas Max leans into Daniel’s dumb songs or drawn out jokes. He likes the long lashes that frame Max’s bright, happy eyes, and soft double chin he gets when he ducks his head into his laugh.
Daniel’s not sure how much time passes before Cyril comes in, but he knows his voice has faded to practically nothing, and he’s having to constantly turn to avoid coughing on Max.
Cyril’s timing is rather unfortunate, entering just as Daniel breaks into a particularly rough wheeze. Max is patting his back gently, which Cyril will definitely have words about later. Presently, however, he seems too concerned about Daniel’s wellbeing to lecture him about appropriate contact with famous customers.
“Daniel. Go home,” he orders, voice kind but firm. His tone leaves no room for argument, not that Daniel really wants to fight him on it. He’s enjoying this, but his brain and body feel as if they’re wading through a pool of thick custard.
“Are you okay to drive?” Max checks. His eyebrows are knitted in sweet concern, like Daniel actually might keel over and die in the ten-minute ride home.
“All good,” Daniel promises. He stands, then promptly has to collapse back onto the couch when black spots dot his vision.
“I’m driving you,” Cyril says firmly.
“I just stood up too fast.” Sure, he’s a little woozier than expected, but he could do this drive blindfolded and half-dead.
“I’ll drive you,” Max says. “I mean, Cyril has work to do, but I’m just sitting here.”
“How do I know you won’t kidnap me or steal my car?” Daniel rasps.
“He’s not worth kidnapping, and selling his car probably couldn’t cover an oil change for the kinds of cars you drive,” Cyril informs Max. He ignores Daniel’s protests, then pushes Daniel back down to the couch when he half-rises from it.
“Stay. I will get your keys and bag.”
The second Daniel’s brain understands that he’s off-duty, that it’s no longer expected to carry him through the day, it mostly blacks out, and everything is a blur from there.
He’s pretty confident Cyril steals his phone to call his mum, which is vaguely embarrassing but perhaps necessary given his current state. He knows Cyril gives Max directions to Daniel’s parents’ place instead of his own. He feels Max’s hands help him into the passenger seat, and he definitely mutters some fever-addled sentences on the drive. That’s about all he remembers until he wakes up in his childhood bed, shivering and sweating while his mum runs a hand through his hair and forces medicine down his throat, before he falls back asleep again.
When he finally comes to enough to make his way downstairs, he finds his parents seated at the kitchen table. His mum jumps up, forces him into a chair and fusses over him while simultaneously lecturing him about going to work sick. His dad just sits there, eyebrows half-raised, until Daniel is settled with food and water.
“So. You had an exciting day at work.”
He slides a piece of scrap paper across the table. There, under some advertisement for gardening services, is a scrawled message in red pen:
It was lovely to meet you (again). I hope the terribly named soup made you feel better! :)
- Max
Under his name, Max has scrawled a phone number.
Daniel runs his finger over the lines, feeling the imprint of each number that Max etched into the paper. It’s neatly written, far more cautious and intentional than the rest of the words, as if to ensure that no digit could be misread or smudged.
Daniel pauses, processes the full note, and double backs to the word ‘again.’
“Yeah,” Daniel croaks through the stabbing pains in his throat. He stares at the word harder, like it might reveal what the fuck Max means by again. “I guess today was pretty interesting.”
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mockerycrow · 1 year
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hii! i love the way you describe the 141 so far, and i would love to see how you would write an konig, ghost, soap, price and alejandro reaction and headcanons with a s/o who has an accent?
i taught myself english from a young age so i never really had someone to practice with, so my accent is very strong (im from south america, which also helps lol) and i would like to see how the cod boys can react to this in your style <33
Reader With An Accent - MWII
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GIF BY: @collinnmckinley - masterlist
A/N: thank you so much for your patience and thank you for liking my writing!! please let me know if i executed this right!! i am american and i don’t want to misrepresent. also this is lowkey coded for people w/ accents from non-english speaking countries, so sorry everyone who is from a english speaking country and has an accent oops — i also kinda took your “i taught myself english from a young age” for alejandro’s chunk. hope that’s ok!
König
König wouldn’t react to your accent very much, unless it’s a very thick accent because then he would have trouble understanding you.
If your accent is thick, he probably asks you repeat yourself a couple of times; English isn’t his first language either, so I can imagine maybe a couple of times you both sit there in silence with each other because neither of you guys can understand each other. He has a semi-thick accent, too.
Sometimes, he does understand you but he just wants to hear you continue to talk.
Maybe König and you practice English together, while teaching each other your native languages on accident. You guys didn’t mean to, but you end up trying to explain what a word is in your different languages and by the end of it, you begin to understand full sentences in german; the same for him with your language.
He considers this a bonding experience :)
Ghost
Like König, he probably wouldn’t react to your accent too much unless it was incredibly thick. Ghost has met all different types of people and his native language is English, so he has a better understanding of what you’re trying to say, but he pokes fun at you like he pokes fun at Soap.
On the topic of Soap, you two together is his worst nightmare.
“Speak English.” Is his favorite phrase when you are speaking English, but your accent is just overpowering literally everything.
You like to throw his words back into his face when he says some sort of British slang—you get a surprisingly loud chuckle out of him when you pick up some of his slang. He thinks it’s funny whenever anyone who isn’t British begins to talk like him.
If Ghost isn’t already fluent in your language, he pretty much becomes damn near fluent by the time you’ve known him for a good couple of months. He picks this stuff up easily.
Soap
Oh, this would be actual hell on Earth. Not for you two, but for the others.
Soap doesn’t comment on your accent initially, but you two begin to share a brain cell and a half (on accident) when Ghost’s eyes show visible frustration.
“He can barely understand me, the two of’us will be a real party trick!”
You and Soap gang up on everyone else if your accent is thick. He understands the frustration of people not understanding you.
Sometimes it takes Soap a moment to process what you’re saying, but he only asks you to repeat yourself a couple of times. (He has a good method of deciphering words, even if he cannot understand through an accent).
Soap likes to teach you his Scot phrases and you teach him your own in return.
Price
He gives you an eyebrow raise as a reaction, but that’s about it. Price has worked with so many people all over the world, he doesn’t really care to comment on your accent.
Price has gotten pretty good at understanding thick accents through the years, so he probably only asks you to slow your speaking when giving him a verbal report about something.
Price 100% is the type to accidentally pronounce something wrong but say it with full confidence and you always correct him, leaving him dumbfounded.
“My lips just don’t move that way, love.”
It’s likely he’s fluent in your language so he doesn’t mind if you talk to him in it; just give him a few seconds to translate in his head, okay?
Alejandro
If you meet outside of a total progressional setting, he probably has the most reaction to your accent out of anyone.
Alejandro’s language is a very big part of him so he assumes it’s the same for anyone else.
Alejandro doesn’t have an incredibly thick accent, but he knows people who do and he’s known them for years, so it’s easier for him to understand than a lot of other people.
If you taught yourself English and you end up pronouncing something wrong, Alejandro casually corrects you to help you out. He doesn’t make a big deal out of it either, he knows sometimes people get embarrassed from it. His first language isn’t English either, so he understands the struggle.
He DOES start laughing if you try to pronounce something that you so clearly cannot, even after being corrected.
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dreamauri · 1 year
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♪ — 𝗟𝗢𝗢𝗞 𝗔𝗧 𝗛𝗘𝗥 max verstappen x reader (fluff) “. . . while on a drive, lando's car breaks down and you're the best mechanic in town.”
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( my master list | more of lando norris ) ( requests | taglist )
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"Now my phone's dead too." Lando scoffed throwing his phone on the leather seat. He's been standing at the side of the blue carbon covered £380,00+ car for the past 20 minutes. He was in the middle of utterly no where, with no cars passing by ( the people that did stop, happen to not speak English nor Flemish Dutch for that matter yes lando tried speaking dutch to italians ).
What a lucky day.
And it was about to get a lot luckier when another car passing by stopped after Norris waved over. "I need help, with the car." He tried saying slowly, switching to Dutch to try his chances.
"I can . . . I can help push it? to uh . . . car doctor?" "Yes, car doctor, that would be great. Thank you." And so after about 2 hours of hard work, the two men ( well one man, one boy lando small ) arrived at a town where several other men came and helped Lando to the mechanics shop.
"Ask kiku. Uhhh . . . Kiku help with car. Very good."
Lando made sure to thank everyone before they left, going through the door. "Un momento per favore." [one moment please]. A female voice shouted through the garage, she was laying on a skateboard rolled under a car.
"Matteo!" she shouted again startling Lando. "Matteo. Porta qui il tuo culo e aiuta quel dannato uomo." [Matteo. Get your ass over here and help the god damn man]. 'Matteo' seemed to have either passed out and taken a nap or walked out. "marcire All 'inferno . . . Cosa c'è che non va nella tua auto?" [rot in hell . . . what's wrong with your car] You asked giving up on finding your co worker.
"I'm sorry?" Lando asked again feeling nervous in this situation, making you pause your tweaking. You rolled from under the car, looking at the British driver. "There shouldn't be anything wrong with your car." You spoke in English, fluently, rolling back under and continuing with the wrench.
"You didn't even take a look at my car-" He was stuttering. Lando was surprised and shocked. It's not everyday you run into a hot Italian women, that can fix cars and speaks English like she's from Chicago or Milton.
"What did you do to it. Were you racing with it? Drifting? Rallying? Or did you completely destroyed it, cause I don't have any carbon fiber or fancy doors and steering wheels."
"No." He replied to all of your questions. "Then it's fine. There's a gas station two roads south from here-" "You don't even know what the model of the car is." He argued, not believing you.
"You're Lando Norris, aren't you? its a 765LT Spider, McLaren." You answered with no hesitation, making the boy zip his mouth. "What do you want, Mr. Norris?" You asked again getting annoyed.
"I was told to look for, uh, Kiku was it?" He said unsurely. You sighed, grumbling a few Italian cuss words under your breath as you finished your current task. Rolling out, you stood up, lifting your tank top and wiping your face dry from the sweat, which in turn smudged some grease on your face.
Fuck not being attracted to Italian female mechanics, you were hot. Very attractive in Lando's eyes.
"I'm Kiku." You told him, handing him the greasy wrench. It was a stupid nickname a few friends gave you as a joke, and it stuck. You looked out at his car hand on your hip as you examined it. "Can you turn it on?" You asked as you approached it, ready to open the back trunk and check the engine.
Lando looked grossed out at the wrench, setting it on a random surface as he unlocked the truck. You examined the car for the next 15 minutes. "I can give it back tomorrow. It's not a big problem. Like I said, you're just out of gas."
"But the measure doesn't say that. And If it's just out of gas, shouldn't you be able to give it back today?" "Yeah. That's the problem, your fuel sender is lying to you and I have to change it." You patted his back, moving back into your garage.
"But I can't stay here forever." "What's wrong with this place?" You asked frowning, looking him in the eye. Lando was going to open his mouth before he closed it quickly. "Nothing I just don't-" why was he rushing? He didn't have places to be at the moment. ". . . I don't have a place to stay?" He answered, more like asked from how unsure of himself he was.
You looked at him for a few seconds. "You can wait over there, just don't touch anything." You told him sighing, nodding towards a few chairs near your office.
★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
"I'm not getting in." Lando refused, looking at your green car. Well it wasn't any green car. It was a classic, a Ferrari 250 gte. Highlight Ferrari. "Yeah, I'm definitely not getting it."
"Suit yourself, the coyotes here would not pass on eating you alive." You joked, not even sure if there were coyotes. "It's not everyday you get to eat a formula one driver, especially a British McLaren driver named Norris." Yea that statement did it for Lando, quickly getting in the car and closing the door after him.
"Good boy." You humed, not really thinking about it as you pulled out the driveway and made your way home. Lando could feel his face redden, hearing your praise, crossing his arms and huffing.
When you arrived at your house, the McLaren diver was quick to jump out first. "Think fast." Lando turned around, quickly catching the keys you tossed. He dropped them once he saw the yellow and black logo with a yelp.
You were laughing at him, moving to his side and picking up the keys, moving towards the house. "casa mia è casa tua." you told him as soon as you unlocked the door. Landor entered after you, copying you as you took your shoes off. The first thing the British driver felt was warmth, your space was giving him solace. This place felt like home.
"You can look around, I'm not going to take long in the shower." You set your bag down on the floor near the couch, making your way to the bathroom. Land did look around, he felt curious. You clearly knew him but he knew so little about you. While scouting for information he found your collection of music discs.
When finally came out fresh, Lando was quick to ask you about a few pictures he found. You two were quickly becoming close with one another. Sharing stories and jokes.
"What about this one?" Lando pointed to one on the grand piano. "Oh yea, I can totally see the picture, Mr. Norris." You chuckled. You were busy with your hands, making dinner for both of you ( you usually ordered out but it world be rude to do that with a guest around so you were putting your heart out in the spaghetti you wee making from scratch, something you knew would impress the McLaren driver ).
Lando picked up the photo frame walking over to you. "Why do you keep calling me by my last name? I have a first name, or did you forget." He chuckled looking at you. "Cause your first name sounds like London." You teased joking. It was out of respect, you did not want to get on his bad side, and it did sound like London just a bit.
Lando smiled laughing. "Well, I'd rather you call me by my first name." "Of course, Mr. Norris." You teased, leaning your forearms on the counter, flicking some flower on his face. He only held up the photo in return. "Oh, I remember this." You hummed, wiping your hand in a towel, taking the photo.
"It was before the last race for the European karting championship. I think I was . . . eleven in that picture?" Lando moved beside you looking down at it. You were in your kart, with your helmet on holding a thumbs up.
You took a moment looking at the photo, your father was sitting beside you on the floor, delivering the kart it's last few tweaks before the race. "You karted?" Lando asked, ruining the moment.
"No." You sarcastically replied, pushing the picture on his chest. "I flew planes at the age of two." You rolled your eyes. "Did you win?" "Hell yeah, I did. Do I look like some weak ass sissy?" You replied laughing. "That championship was mine. I Literally beat up Albon and Leclerc. "
"Really?" He was interested, leaning forward to listen closely. "What else did you race in?" "Just that really." You shrugged smiling. "Other than the karting track a few blocks down." "There's a karting track a few blocks down?" You looked at him blinking quietly. "I think answered your question before you answered it."
The boy looked away chuckling nervously. "Right." "I can drop you off tomorrow morning while I fix your car." You offered as you gently cooked the chicken alfredo. "Really?" You looked back at him deadpanning. "I mean, I'd enjoy that. Thank you."
★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
"Hey, I never got to ask, why didn't you continue with racing? You won the championship after all. We could've been competing in f1 together." The sun had already risen again and Lando was unwillingly sitting in your car as you drove through the town. "Not everyone is high born, Norris." You sighed, shrugging. "It's my cannon event. Besides, I'm happy like this."
After finally fixing the lying fuel measure, you drove the McLaren to the karting track, honking the horn to get the attention of the race car driver.
Turning back from the fence, Lando smiled upon seeing you lean on the blue carbon in the car park. "You fixed her!" "Of course I did." You chuckled, tossing him his keys once he was close enough. "You're free to go Mr. Norris." You chuckled getting off the McLaren and patting his back. "I don't need to leave just yet . . . by the way do you have plans next week?" "Why what are you up to."
lando.jpg
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lando.jpg lesson learned, always carry a portable car mechanic with you
alex_albon ease my heart and tell me thats not who i think it is ↳ youruser long time no see alex ↳ alex_albon THE POWER OF CHRIST COMPLES YOU ↳ user 💀
charles_leclerc omg ew, kart theif ↳ youruser you're ew, you took my kart first! ↳ charles_leclerc it was a good kart ↳ alex_albon your only win ↳ charles_leclerc THATS MEAN
user who's that ↳ maxverstappen1 a nightmare ↳ youruser hey max ↳ maxverstappen1 BEGONE DEMON
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944 notes · View notes
97linelover · 3 months
Text
false number alert - Kim Mingyu
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18+ / mdi
summary: it´s normal to chat over your phone nowadays, but what happens if you receive a text from a stranger?
And what if this stranger is not who he claims to be?
content: Idol Mingyu x non Idol reader, fight,angst, happy end,fluff, smut
wc: 4.6 k
a/n: I got a weird text the last week and I came up with this idea, I´m not quite sure if I like it though.
unknown: You got time? I could call you!
Y/N: I'm sorry this has to be the wrong number.. I don't speak your language. And I don't know you.
Unknown: Sorry for my fault. I drank, and a random girl gave me a number.
Y/N: Oh, I'm sorry, but looks like she ditched you and you got the wrong girl. Here is just Y/N, and I am in my bed.
Unknown: Well, Jake here; nice to meet you, Y/N. Sorry, my English is not good.
Y/N: That is no problem at all. Write as you want. I can use a translator.
Jake: You sure?
Y/N: Yes. :D
Y/N and Jake didn't notice that they were texting for hours now. It just fitted; they had a lot of topics, but suddenly Jake had to leave.
Lily did not mind; she had to sleep; in Korea it was already morning, while in America it was night.
Texting a stranger was something she never wanted to do, but Jake made it so easy tonight, and since he is from Seoul, there was no way that they would meet ever. But little did Y/N know that Jake would be more than just a texting pal.
Jake: Y/N, are you awake?
Y/N: Yes, I'm still learning for my exam. 😟
Jake: I just came home from work. I'm tired. 🥲
Y/N: Isn't it like 3 in the morning in Seoul? Go to bed, Jakey.
Jake: I wanted to talk to you. But I don't want to disturb your studies. Good luck tomorrow. FIGHTING!
Y/N: Good night, Jake🥺.😴
From now on, the two of you became best friends; you texted him more than your best friend.
But since finals were just around the corner, you could not talk to him for a while.
Jake: You still alive Y/N??
Y/N; Yup, lol, sorry to share those news, jakeyyy."
Jake: I'm happy, u answer. I thought you forgot me... 😥
Y/N: No!! Would never, how was your day?
Jake; Call? I wanna hear you.
Your eyes went wide; you never talked to each other; you never had a phone call. But you were so curious what he sounds like. You took a deep breath to stay calm, and it was not that easy.
Not even a second later, your phone was ringing.
"Hey Y/N" His voice was deep, sultry, and fucking perfect. "Hey," Y/N's voice was soft and beautiful. Exactly how he imagined it to be.
"Now English is harder," Jake chuckled. "Don't worry, Jake, I'll understand you somehow," you giggled, and Jake sweared your laugh was doing something to him.
"Tell me about your day," you said while sitting down at the window. "We practiced a lot for sport," Jake told you he was an athlete. "My mates and me are tired," he yawned.
"Jake, you should sleep; we can text each other tomorrow." Your smile could be heard through the phone. "No, tell me about your day," he wanted to know; he suddenly felt so awake.
"Liz came over; we had dinner; she quickly went home because her brother needed help," you giggled, "and now I'm learning again." A sigh left her lips. "It'll be worth it at the end; I'm proud." You could hear your heart flutter.
They talked a little more until you heard soft snores from the other side of the call. Goddamn, why was he so cute?
"Good night, Jake," she whispered and ended the call.
-
"Come on, Darling, your grandparents are already waiting." Your mother took your hand, guiding you towards your grandparents.
It was the day of your graduation, and you could not be happier right now; you finally made it.
The ceremony was beyond beautiful; laughs were shared, tears were wiped away, and people were just so proud of you.
But you could not wait to enter your home, calling Jake.
When you rushed inside, you found a beautiful flower bouquet on the table with all your favorite flowers and a card tucked between them.
"I knew you would rock this. I'm so proud of you.
- J"
You smiled so brightly that your mother could only join it; you told her a little bit about him, and she happily listened to her daughter's love story.
You snapped a picture and wrote down a little message.
Y/N: thank you. It means so much to e.
Jake: You deserve it.
Your father walked towards you. "Honey, I know you're currently on cloud 9, but did you ever see him?" You looked up, shaking your head slightly. "You need a picture, just to make sure he's not a 57-year-old male named Carl," he k'pecked your head. "You're right."
Y/N; Hey Jake, I wondered if you would send me a picture of yourself. We know each other for a while now, and I'm really curious. 😇
Jake: Yes, wait. I'm in the car. I’ll snap one when I’m inside the building
When he send her a selfie of him she felt like squealing, he was beautiful. So it was just absolutely perfect. 
-
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When you were getting off the plane, the first thing you'd noticed was the dry air. Vegas wasn't the best city, but your mother got you this trip as a graduation trip gift.
Liz traveled with you everywhere.
You directly told Jake about your trip, but he did not read the message yet.
When they arrived at the hotel, you took a deep, clean shower and got ready. You changed into something comfy and did a light make-up.
The main thing you did in Vegas was shopping. When you tried on a beautiful red dress, you snapped a picture and sent it to Jake.
and this time the answer came within seconds.
Jake: You're stunning, wow.
A deep red blush was on your face.
Jake did things to you which were not normal. But what can you do about it? The heart wants what it wants, and there's nothing you can do about it.
You took the dress and looked at the price..nevermind.
Y/N: Nevermind. Too expensive:
Jake: But it was so beautiful.. but dont worry, you'll look good in everything.
Ever since you both got in contact, you learned Korean; you sucked, but at least you were trying. You wanted to talk to him even more; you wanted this to work out.
You both went to the next stores and bought a few things. When you got back to your hotel, you called Jake, but he didn't pick up.
He was probably busy...
You went out to eat something; you were sitting in a small Italian restaurant when you suddenly saw Jake. You nearly choked on a noodle; he was walking outside of the restaurant with some friends, it seems.
"LIZ," you shrieked, "what?" "Jake, he is here." You quickly got up, but when you walked outside, he was nowhere to be seen.
Were you dreaming? You could swear it was him.
"He is not here, love; maybe you drank too much," Liz giggled. Maybe it was a dream.
Later that night you called Jake, but he did not pick up. Again.
Y/N: Hey, I think im going crazy..
Jake: Why
Y/N: I went out with Liz and I thought you were there. I saw you walking around with some friends, but when I looked for you again, you were away.
Jake: You know I was working the entire day :S?
You were absolutely going crazy; he was in Korea, and you're in Vegas.
To say you did not sleep well that night was definitely true; the night was horrific. That you thought Jake was here, and you really thought that he was.
Today would be different. She promised herself to not think about it, but how when Liz walks inside the room, giving her a bag with the beautiful red dress in it. "From Mr. Jakeyyy," she laughed, and you directly typed a message.
Y/N: You are insane. I can't accept this. '
Jake: Oh, and how you can; just snap a picture in it, and I'm satisfied.
And she did; both of the girls got ready for a night out, and she sent him a picture, and in return, he sent one back.
"Fuck me, he is hot," you gasped, showing it to Liz. "Absolutely," she agreed.
But when they were on their way to the club, Liz sighed, "You know, I still don't trust Jake." She looked at you, "What? Why?" you furrowed your eyebrows.
"You guys never facetimed; you only send each other normal photos. I don't know, he just seems fishy," you sighed. You don't know why you trust him so much.
When you finally reached the club, you bought some drinks; it did not take you long to get drunk.
You didn't know how much you had, but you felt quite tipsy.
You giggled when you saw Liz making out with a handsome Asian man, but you felt your heart stop beating when you saw Jake. And this time it was him; he was wearing the same thing he wore in the picture.
You didn't hesitate and walked towards him. "Jake? Jake, oh my god," the guy looked at her like you were crazy.
"It's me, Y/N." "Sorry, but I don't know a Y/N." You understood what he said. And it broke your heart.
You took your phone out of your pocket and showed the selfie. "But this is you?" You were basically pleading by now.
"Sorry, but I'm Wonwoo," he said and looked apologetic. So Jake played her. He was not who he claimed to be.
They all were right.
You felt the tears in your eyes; your heart felt so heavy, and you didn't know how to act. Liz noticed her best friends state and got her quickly outside of the club.
"You were right." You hiccuped and cried, "I wish I didn't know it, Y/N." She stroked your head. "Everything will be okay, my baby," you whispered.
Inside the hotel, you basically ripped the dress off.
You were still crying and called his number, "Hey, y/N, what's wrong." There he spoke with his beautiful voice, "Can you send me a picture of you right now?" You whispered, "Okay, wait." You heard a few noises, and then her phone vibrated.
"You don't feel bad?" You whispered while looking at it, "What you mean?" In any other moment you would've giggled because of his Korean. "You know I think it's funny; I trust you; I trusted you without a doubt, and then I was planning on having a nice night, but then I ran into your doppelgänger," you could hear his breath hitch.
"I met Wonwoo," you whispered and cried. "And I know that everything was just a lie; everything we had in those last few months was just based on a lie." You didn't let Jake speak.
"I just want to see a picture of you, Jake; I want to know why you decided to lie to me," and you just heard. Sigh, "Okay, wait, let me take one," and not even a second later your phone vibrated again.
*picture attached from Jake*
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Your breath hitched. "This is you?" You could hear him taking a deep breath. "Yes." He was quiet now. "I do not understand why you lied to me; after this, I cannot understand this the slightest." You found him even more beautiful than Wonwoo; his looks matched his personality so well. "I'm sorry," he whispered.
"I need time, time to think about everything. Time to think about if I want someone in my life that just lies to me without feeling bad." You were crying so bad.
You were tired and you did not know how to handle this.
"Y/N, picture is not me, texting is me," he stuttered. "Believe me, I didn't lie about the things I wrote." He sounded sad.
"I don't know what to think, Jake; I need time," and with that, she ended the call.
And for both of them, this was a nightmare; the relationship they built was so good, and it just got ruined. Just because he was scared of being hurt, he did not realize how bad he hurt you.
When Liz carried you towards her date 2 days later, you did not want to join. You felt like you had the biggest heartbreak ever, and you constantly felt like crying.
"So he is also from Korea; his name is Seokmin, and he is the guy I hooked up with at the club." You barely registered her words when you two walked into the fancy hotel. "Damn, this guy must be rich," you mumbled, and Liz chuckled. "Well, his Louis Vuitton dress shirt definitely looked like it when I undressed him." She wiggled her eyebrows, and you giggled slightly. "Well bonus."
You took the elevator up the rooftop floor and there was a group already sitting, all eyes on you two. "Liz," the tall, dark-haired male, got up. "Seok." She grinned brightly and hugged him. You waved shyly towards all of them. "Y/N, this is Seokmin, Seok, this is Y/N." Liz introduced you, and he hugged you, "Nice to meet you, "Y/N." He smiled at you and introduced you to every friend, and when your gaze landed on Wonwoo, your breath hitched.
Why the fuck was he here?
"Is Mingyu running late?" Jihoon asked, and Wonwoo shrugged. "He has been weird for the last two days; his mysterious girl probably was someone ugly." He looked you right in the eyes.
"Mingyu met her?" Seokmin added now, "No, I don´t think so; he would not show himself right now." Wonwoo said, "He always does this," he added, and you ordered a drink looking around.
"Y/N, your name sounds so familiar." Jihoon said confused, and you shrugged. "I don´t you though," you giggled, and he chuckled. "Oh, there he is, Mr. Kim Mingyu, Mr. I just signed a Calvin Klein cooperation." Soonyoung cheered, and you followed his gaze, feeling your soul leaving your body.
"Jake?" you whispered, and Liz turned towards you. "Wait, thats him?" she whispered, and you nodded. "This is him, but why are they calling him Jake?" you furrowed your eyebrows. "Oh my god." You got up, and his gaze landed on you. "Y/N," he said, shocked.
"Wait, this is your Y/N?" Seokmin asked, and Mingyu could only nod, and you felt sick all of a sudden. "So Jake was also a lie," you scoffed. "What a fucking joke.".
"I can explain," he walked towards you, but you quickly took some steps back. "I don´t wanna hear; you lied to me with everything; we shared so many things with each other, every secret of me, every flaw of me, and you just lied the entire time; you told me your name was Jake, and you sent me pictures of your best friend; how messed up is this?" You tried your best not to cry, "but I guess that´s just your thing, right?" You walked past him. "I swear, I'm so done with you; I can´t believe I trusted you with anything I said to you.".
And when you left the building, you ignored how he pleaded for you to wait, to let him explain.
You could not do it; you were so tired of this entire situation.
When you entered the hotel room, the first thing you did was block him.
But now, 4 days later, when you arrived back home, your mother brought you a black envelope. You sat down on the couch while reading his handwritten letter.
'Y/N,
I know I am the last person you want to hear from, but I can only tell you what I really mean.
I want to explain, and I really want to see you. Dune will visit Seokmin tonight. I would love for you to join.
Maybe tonight will explain a little why I hid my Idenity.
Sincerly yours
Mingyu"
It was weird to read his real name; you fell for someone named Jake, and now hes called Mingyu´? How weird was that?
But you definitely wanted to know why he did it, so you were sure to visit this place with Liz.
You called her, and she quickly told you that she would drive there in 1 hour, so you needed to hurry. You took a quick shower and applied some make-up.
You slipped into a summery dress and some converse when Liz texted you that she was here.
"Can you tell me where the fuck I will find out why he hid his identity?" You whispered confused.
"I could tell you, but you should see it for yourself," she smiled slightly. "It will make sense by then.".
You both arrived at the stadium, and you furrowed your eyebrows; why? There were thousands of girls camping; you were confused.
But there was no time to think about it. Liz basically dragged you inside with two lanyards, and the security gave you two pink bracelets—'seventeen.' Follow again tour 2024' was standing there in bold letters. 'Staff' was added. "Don´t lose this; this will give you entry to every single room here." The security told you two this information, and you nodded.
"Let´s go to our seats. The show will start in 5 minutes." Liz dragged you along the rows until you landed in a separated seating area. There was one girl already looking at you. She smiled softly at you, and you smiled back.
She must´ve realized how confused you were.
"dune I don´t know what´s going on; where is he?" But before you could say anything, you saw a girl group walking past you with different pickets with his face on it.
On the others were pictures of Seokmin, Wonwoo, and Jihoon.
What the fuck was going on?
"You know, he will be happy that you´re here," a soft voice said, and you turned around. "Huh?" You furrowed your eyebrows, and she laughed slightly. "Sorry, I am Minseo, Mingyus sister." She smiled softly at you, and your eyes widened.
"Oh, I´m Y/N," you bowed slightly, and she hugged you. "Mingyu told me so much about you; he also called me after you left, and I quickly told him that he should be open about his work and that you will understand," Liz nodded. "Mingyu is a really nice guy, and I mean, I say this as his sister," she giggled, and you blushed.
"Minseo, I´m just so confused. I need to wrap my head around what's happening right now," she nodded, understanding, "oh guys, the show is starting." Liz screeched, and you looked towards the huge stage; the crowd was going crazy as they were coming down the stage.
You watched with wide eyes as the music began to play, as you saw the familiar faces perform, and when Mingyus voice began to ring through your ears.
The entire show you could only sit there and watch; you were speechless.
Your Mingyu was a global idol, and you did not know.
When the show finished, Liz was euphoric. "Aren´t they amazing??" you nodded. "Do you want to meet him?" She whispered, "I think I need to." You got up, following Minseo and Liz towards the backstage area. "They are currently changing into comfier clothes, but Mingyu told me that you can already wait in his room if you want to go to his hotel," Minseo told you.
You agreed because those were his duties; he also needed to go live, and you did not want to be a burden.
You waited on his king-size hotel bed, waiting for him to come when the door finally opened.
Mingyu walked inside, placing his backpack on the floor, taking off his cap, and then looking at you. "Y/N," he whispered, and you smiled. "Hi Mingyu." It was weird to say his name and to sit in front of him, but you were also excited.
"I´m so happy you´re here," he breathed out and smiled at you. "I thought that we should talk; I really enjoyed talking to you," you admitted, and he nodded. "I think I should explain some things to you." He pulled out a chair and sat down in front of you.
That he gave you space made you feel so respected.
"Okay, so at first I want to tell you that I am confused; everything that has happened was so confusing for me," you giggled slightly, and he nodded. "And I get it, believe me, but you know it´s hard for me to trust people," he sighed.
"I met this girl and she did not know me; I barely tell strangers my real name; as you can imagine, being famous has a lot of bad habits; I have to be careful, and then I was in it too deep. You can´t imagine how bad I wanted to tell you, but I wanted to do it in person; everything came different. I wanted you to know the real me, but I never had the chance." You nodded understanding.
"Imagine if I had told you over the phone you would´ve never believed me at all," he sighed. "I just hope that you can trust me again someday."
"You might think I´m crazy, but I trust you; I think you´re exactly the guy you pretended to be, and I want you in my life," you said with a shy smile. "You became a huge part of my life, Mingyu.".
"There is one more thing I need to tell you." He scratched his head and looked you in the eyes. "What is it?"
"I fell for you; after all those texts, I began to realize how much you mean to me," he admitted honestly, and you nearly choked on your spit.
"You fell for me?" You could not believe that at all. "I did; I´m completely smitten for you." He looked down, afraid of being rejected. "Gyu," he looked up. "I fell for you as well," you whispered, and his eyes began to sparkle.
"Can I kiss you?" He got up from his chair, and you also got up from the bed, nodding "please.".
There was not a second wasted when he attached your lips.
His hands pulled you close; your hands were around his neck, the kiss deepened, and you moaned into his mouth.
God, this was too good to be true; the way he kissed you made you absolutely crazy.
„We should take this slowly,“ you mumbled against his mouth. „Yeah, you’re right,“ but the way your hands were playing with the hair on his nape and the small moan he let out made your pants damp.
„I want you,“ you whimpered against his lips, and he smirked, pulling his sweatshirt over his head.
„Good that we feel the same,“ he laid you down on the bed until there was a knock on the door. "Maybe they will go away," he whispered while kissing your neck.
But the knocks became louder. "Mingyu, open the fucking door." The voice was unfamiliar. "Fuck my manager, you need to hide in the bathroom; if he sees you, he will freak out." You quickly got up, getting in to the bathroom.
"Mingyu-ah, were you sleeping?" He asked, confused. "Yeah," he scratched his head. "You got an interview for tomorrow morning; it´s pretty spontaneous, so I wanted to make sure you set your alarm." Mingyu nodded. "I´ll set one; see you tomorrow." He closed the door.
You were sitting on the bathtub edge when he walked in. "I´m sorry," he said, apologetic, and you giggled slightly. "That´s alright," you got up. "Maybe I should go," you yawned slightly. "You can also stay the night if you want. We can just lay down and talk?" he suggested while you two walked back into his room.
"I mean, if you want me to, but I don´t have any stuff here," you shrugged your shoulders, and he walked towards his suitcase, grabbing a shirt. "You can put this on?".
As the night got to the end, you both fell asleep while cuddling. You don´t know what time it was when you did, but you two talked until your eyes fell shut. He pecked your forehead and turned the light off.
You woke up with Mingyus alarm ringing, a yawn escaped you, and you felt him stir next to you. "Wake up, Gyu." You turned off his alarm, and he pulled you close. "Wanna sleep some more?" he pouted, and you giggled. "But you need to, and I also need to get to my hotel." he groaned. "When will we meet again?" he pulled you on top of him. "I don´t know; maybe when I have some days off, I have three weeks off in September." You shrugged your shoulders.
"Let me know when, and I´ll buy you some plane tickets," he softly kissed you. You both got completely lost within each other; his hands wandered under your shirt, his fingertips gliding along your skin; your hips were grinding on his crotch; you felt yourself getting extremely aroused.
"God, you make me crazy," he groaned, closing his eyes while you whimpered on top of him. Those little sounds you made made him dizzy; all the blood was rushing downwards.
His second alarm brought you down from your high; you were breathing heavily, and he sighed, "I swear the next time you´re with me this will end way better." He kissed you.
-
And now, 2 years later, you were living in Seoul; you quit your job and applied for some in Korea. You quickly found one with the help of Mingyus sister. Apartment hunting with the Kim Siblings was way more fun than you would´ve thought.
Minseo became like your sister; you both did so many things together that Mingyu sometimes grew extremely tired of you two.
But he was glad that his family accepted you like that; his mother directly liked you, and his dad as well. His family always said that the two of you matched so incredibly well. They were happy that Mingyu found someone apart from all that fame. Someone that brought him back to reality whenever life got too troubled.
You were currently making some food for Mingyu after his live show; it would be his last one for some time now. They deserved it; they all worked so so hard whenever you watched them.
The way Mingyu was always so tired when he came home and you both barely went out was draining for him. He wanted to spend more time with you; he wanted to travel the world with you.
His dream destination would be Italy. After they filmed the Nana tour there, you wanted to see the beautiful scenery as well.
So you bought two plane tickets and booked a beautiful Airbnb; tonight you will surprise him with that.
You were cooking some pasta and poured in some red wine when the door opened. "Jagi, I´m home," he said while taking off his shoes. "Kitchen love," you answered while putting the noodles on the plate.
"Mhmm, it smells so good," he said while walking inside, hugging you from behind and kissing your head. "Sit down, love. Dinner is done." You turned around to smile at him, and he kissed you.
When you both finished dinner, he yawned, "I´m really happy for this time off," you admitted, and he nodded. "We all are. Wonwoo and Joshua will fly to Europe and do a photography tour," he said to talk about the schedule of the boys.
"And we will go to Italy," you smiled brightly. "We will what?" He furrowed his eyebrows. "Maybe I bought two plane tickets, and we will stay in Italy for a month?" you blushed.
"Oh my god," his smile became so big, and you giggled, "happy?" He nodded happily, "more than happy; I need to pack." He got up.
"No need to, I did it already." You put the dishes away, and he lifted you up, twirling you around.
And if someone would´ve told you that you would end up in Italy with a ring on your finger, planning your forever with someone you learned to love over the phone, you would´ve laughed.
But as you both exchanged your vows and your closest friends sobbed, you knew this was real.
This was your happy end.
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fairuzfan · 10 months
Note
What's your opinion of non-palestinian people talking about having 'mental breaks' from the ongoing genocide? They reblog very few posts on Palestine and reblog fandom stuff mostly. I understand the news of the genocide can affect mental health, but can't they reblog atleast one post of Palestine per day? Palestinians deserve to have their voice heard more and their message spread afar.
I don't know. Most people on my dash are reblogging only fandom stuff and it just seems...weird. There's a genocide going on and all this energy is towards other things.
Also, I seen when people are reblogging about the genocide, some accusing them of 'virtue signalling.'
Sorry if I make mistakes. English is not my mother tongue.
I hope you have a nice day. I'm very sorry for what's happening to your people.
Free palestine 🍉❤️
I don't know how you can honestly have "mental breaks." I'm literally always thinking about it. When I watch TV, when I do chores, when I'm socializing with friends. I'm thinking "what the heck am I doing right now," knowing what happens halfway across the world. I'm literally having to take medicine to sleep because I'm thinking about what I can do to help all night otherwise.
I think these people aren't really interested in the safety of Palestinians. Why are you advocating for people to stop interacting with Palestinians when the only things they have is their smartphone and cameras to speak to you? It's the only thing they have. Some don't even feel hopeful anymore, but they're still recording the worst scenes imaginable.
If you need a break, fine, I understand. It's quite nerve-wracking seeing so much death and destruction. But why are you making posts of "remember your mental health!" if not for explicitly malicious reasons? I can't think of how selfish you have to be to tell OTHER people not to look at the atrocities happening. If anything, I hope that others are able to keep talking when I'm not able to.
Also, your english is quite good! Thank you so much for your kind words... I hope you have a nice day as well.
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france-the-third · 29 days
Note
Salut! I can't really be bothered to type in French because my spelling is questionable and I don't have any accents on this keyboard, so I'm just going to go with English.
Genuine question, but how many people in the countryverse are aroace? I mean... I know I am and you said that you are as well... I think there are a lot of us....
By the way, sorry if all the elipses seem a tad ominous.
Salut!!
Don't worry about spelling, from what I've seen at school, French people can't spell French either lol
I can't really speak for anyone else, but yeah the country (and gimmick) verse seems to be mostly a-spec teenagers of about 15-17 years old lol
Now I'm curious so
@the-principality-of-sealand @maryland6th @non-tyrannical-usa you guys know a lot of people in the countryverse
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rassicas · 6 months
Text
hi guys! im back. i went tokyo for a few days. got back at 7 this morning after taking an overnight 7 hour bus ride.... that i did not sleep on bc i cant sleep in moving vehicles. this will be something closer to a proper blog post i guess. splatoon related convention? experience below
i've kept my mouth shut about my plans to go because its not as well known on the english side of the fanbase and i didnt wanna make people too jealous sorry LOL , but i went to splaket 22! it's an unofficial, splatoon-only doujinshi market/artists alley. this was my first convention-sort-of event ive been to since i was... in high school. i also dont really get to meet many other hardcore splatoon fans irl. i was nervous about it because i don't know a whole lot of people on the JP side nor do i have a lot of confidence in my japanese speaking/listening, but in the end it was SUPER fun. i wish i couldve talked a bit more to the artists i did encounter to comment on what i liked about their works but. Skill Issue very few non-japanese people at this event of course but one of the only english speakers i saw i called out to bc they were wearing a shirt with this exact image printed on it no video and no photos outside of designated areas were allowed so i got like. zero pics of my own. but there was a lot of cosplayers i saw! oh and here's the Loot Haul. a few doujin, a clear file, stickers, microfiber cloth and a keychain. im surprised at how little i got, i think i shouldve gone a bit crazier with it
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the one with Tao Blu and oonie in the top left (by sachikazerick) I came across by chance and bought because it was cute, featured splatband characters, and also because it all in some familiar inkling language (the last point of which i told the artist as i was buying) when i finally got home and saw the back credits...
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SMALL FUCKIN WORLD LOL (i tweeted at the artist afterwards to let him know i came by the table and to thank him for using me and my friend's inkling language fonts!) though truly, i think ardnin deserved the credit more rather than me since he made most of those fonts! ah well, still cool to see more and more fan works using deciphered inkling language. top middle book is a story with some salmonid characters that i havent read yet but im looking forward to it, the art is lovely. top right one was the first thing i bought. the artist is rk_splaworks, whose art i love, and we've been mutuals for a few years and have talked a bit here and there! i was so fucking nervous to meet them in person since my japanese sucks LMAO but they were happy to meet me too and we got a selfie together yippy <3 also havent read their doujin Yet since ill have to rub all my brain cells together and huddle over the dictionary, but i want their oc lore
ok that's all i'll say, next splaket is...june 22. very soon....im already thinking ill. go again. yknow. while im still in japan and all that. i guess ill have to study harder on my jp in the meantime teehee ...i doubt it, but in the off chance anyone following me is going to the next splaket in june lemme know!
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skylarsblue · 2 years
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this isn’t really a request or anythin’, just a thought. 141 havin to deal with a southern team member who only gets progressively more accented the more they get mad.
100% projecting here
pretty unaccented, American, whatever —> ✨ anger ✨ —> Memphis called they want their “oo-ol” back (translation: oil).
i have no idea if they’d be annoyed, charmed, or just confused.
✦141 + Los Vaqueros With A Southern!Teammate✦
(My first C.o.D request and it's for pEOPLE LIKE MEEEE, southern traassh! This my shit. Fair warning, I've never played one of these games cause I don't have a console, so if they're ooc, please tell me how I can improve writing them!)
✦Random headcanons, Southern slang, GN!Reader, Race neutral as well but American, implied to be Oklahoma/Texas style southern, aggressive cursing because I have the mouth of a sailor, a bit of Google Translated Spanish(forgive me), Rudy doesn't have a color cause I ran out I'm so sorry precious boy✦
✧Simon Riley✧
He's not real fond of Americans, admittedly. He's got a little voice in the back of his head that automatically associates Americans with betrayal, but he'll keep quiet.
He cringes at your accent at first. He's not fond of Americans, even less so of most American accents. It's a very thick drawl and after being in the team for a while, he'll tease you about it, telling you to "Speak English" like he does with Soap.
He shuts up when you bring up his Manchester accent being illegible sometimes. It's all in good fun though!
After proving you're trustworthy, he'll basically call you his "special American", to show you're an exception. He will never stop poking fun at you though, just as you do to him. Particularly when you say something intensely American.
"Look at her ass, out here pitchin' a bitch fit with a tail on it." "...What in the hell is that even supposed to mean?"
He'll give you one thing, you treat beef well, which he appreciates. Given he used to be a butcher's apprentice. Americans from the southern states know how to make a hamburger and we know how to cook a steak, that's like...the one thing we can brag about.
If you're like me and you dunk on your own country, he thinks those moments are really funny. Especially when you sound so American.
He probably enjoys you being angry the most. He loves it so much, he thinks it's extremely entertaining. Especially if you're a more small, non-intimidating person on the surface.
"Fuck off! Out here makin' a damn mess of the place, runnin' around like a chicken with its head cut off, wrecking my shit! I outta whoop yer ass!" "Should we step in?" "No no, let it go on a little longer..."
Probably tries to make your call sign something heavily American stereotypical, in a funny way. (ie. Bald Eagle, Stars(JILL!), Shotgun, etc.)
A bit hypocritical but if you have a farm with cows on it, he doesn't really wanna see them. His first thought his how to butcher them from years of training, and if they're not butcher cows, he feels kinda bad for thinking it.
Congrats! You're the only American Simon likes, aside from maybe Alex but I don't know for sure.
✧Johnny MacTavish✧
Laughs when you first speak. He apologizes but like, he laughs at you, I'm sorry.
Definitely asks if you have a cowboy hat, and he will lose his fucking mind if you do. The more cowboy shit you own the more he's entertained, especially if you wear them around base/on field.
He understands you super well but no one understands how or why. Johnny explains that it's just because he's good with accents. He'll hear weird euphemisms and, though it may take a second, 9 times out of 10 he'll get it.
"Fucker's so cheap I bet he pinches quarters til they scream." "What?! What does that mean!?" "Means he's a penny pincher! He's cheap. C'mon, that one was obvious, keep up, yeah?"
If you're a woman/female leaning, he'll call you cowgirl. If you're male/male leaning, you get the nickname cowboy. Non-binary/Genderfluid/Etc.? He calls you partner, and he'll always say it with a shitty imitation of your accent.
Asks you a buncha questions about American-Southern stereotypes to see if they're true. If they are, he gets really giggly about it.
If they ever have a mission in America, he'll insist you lead them everywhere. He likes seeing how you interact with people, especially if you're in a big city where some nutsos are. This man would have a blast watching you in a Waffle House. It's the only time he likes seeing you yell in public, thinks it's hilarious.
If you have any farm experience he's gotta see it. He needs to. I don't care if the farm is your great grandpa's and you haven't been there in a decade, you better take him to see the cows and tractors right now, immediately. Especially if there are chickens. He loves chickens.
He makes fun of your accent but he thinks it's really hot sometimes and he's very annoyed at himself for it. Particularly when you speak softly, trying to console/comfort him, slipping in a typical southern pet name.
"You alright there, sugar? Took quite a hit there. You need anythin', sweetheart?" "...I uh, uhm, ahem. N-no, no I'm alright." "Are ya sure, sweetpea? Your face is goin' redder than a tomato."" NO, I'M GOOD."
Manages to get the entire team to call you a southern callsign, whether you like it or not. He'll force it to stick. Most are animal-based too. (Cowboy/Cowgirl, Chick/Rooster, Bull/Heffer, Big Tex, etc.)
Your accent grows on him significantly. While he thinks you're very sexy when you're angry, he's really affected when you're soft and sweet. (bonus note; if you're faux sweet when you're mad? The whole "Oh...bless your heart" type thing? He's prolly gonna pop a boner, not gonna lie.)
✧John Price✧
He's not American but there are a lot of American things he likes, admittedly. Specifically, old western stuff, horses, ranches, etc. That whole aesthetic is something he's always enjoyed. He won't say it, but he has a particular fondness for your accent when he first hears it.
Doesn't understand you when your accent gets super thick but he thinks it's entertaining nevertheless. Unlike Ghost or Soap, he doesn't comment on it, because he doesn't think he has room to talk. Maybe he'd do it once and then you'd throw it back at him and he'd realize that...yeah he has no room to talk.
He's a calm individual but he will yell when necessary. But, what he finds admirable is when you jump in and yell for him. Like you can read his mind and he can save his throat, watching the people who were pissing him off jump back at thick southern curses being yelled at them.
"I outta jerk a damn knot in your fuckin' tail, ya fuckin' dumbass! Didn't ya momma ever teach you respect?! You ain't ever gonna talk to my damn captain like that again or I'll skin yer fuckin' hide!" "Ahem, thank you, sergeant, that's enough."
Buys you a cowboy hat if you don't already have one, for sure. Whether you take it as a genuine gift or you take it as a light jab at your roots, he'll get a lil' dopey smile if you decide to wear it. Gaz definitely makes fun of you two. Soap points out that Gaz also wears a hat religiously and he & Ghost start callin' you the hat trio.
Man melts at southern-drawl-spoken pet names. He truly does. Much like Soap, there's something about it that makes the tension leaves his body, though he's not really sure why.
"You alright there, Cap? You're lookin' bout ready to drop..." "I'm alright soldier, just need to finish this." "Captain, it'll be there in the mornin'. How bout a nap instead, huh? You can't go workin' yourself to the bone, hun. It ain't healthy."" ...oh alright, just for a bit though." "Sure, sugarcube, just long enough to have some tea."
He'll probably pick up on a few pet names and call you them. Whether you wanna take it as platonic or not, it's really just a sweet gesture that he wants to return. Pet names are kinda just...a staple of southern slang. It's part of the accent that he really enjoys, therefore he wants to return it.
If he ends up helping you with a call sign, it's going to be a really sweet & nice one. Or perhaps something that's from an old western he's seen. Probably based on something you've said before. (Sugarcube, Lasso, Hun/Hunny.) Bonus points if you get a super sweet name that doesn't match your stature, he thinks it's funny if it throws people off.
Piggybacking off the last one, I think it'd be real funny if your call name was "Sugarcube" and you're like...a 6'0"+ buff dude with a deep voice. That shit would be funny. Anyway!
If you own/live on a ranch or farm in your off time, he'll feel honored if you invite him to see it. Don't worry, he won't laze around and just appreciate the cute animals. (Looking at you Soap) He's got a little bit of experience with cows & horses, so he'll do his best to help you move the hay and such. Don't let him drive a tractor though, it's one of the few things he just can't do.
John doesn't play favorites, he's fair and precise to his entire team. But...off the field? ...you might get a little favoritism, he's got a weakness for bein' sweettalked through southern drawl. Don't let that go to your head though!
✧Kyle Garrick✧
Kyle doesn't care too much, he thinks every country has shitty stuff and cool stuff. He's a pretty big believer in silver linings. While America is far from his favorite country, and he knows the common trope of uh...less than tolerant people from the south, that doesn't affect how he sees you at all.
He does snicker at your accent sometimes, but only when you say something really aggressively southern. Especially making up random southern phrases that he doesn't understand at all. He finds it endearing.
"We just gotta haul ass and go tear shit up, run through like a buncha Tasmanian devils, right?" "...I understood...some of those words. Uh, sure, right." "We need to move our asses and fuck shit up." "Ah, okay. Could've just said that, but alright."
Thinks you're kinda scary when you're mad. He'll be the type to try and calm you down, but he understands if it's someone who deserves it. Not that he doesn't find your drawl fun to listen too, especially if someone was being an ass, but he doesn't like seeing you upset.
If the person you're yelling at was being a real big ass, he'll let you yell for a little, but step in. However, if you're doing condescending rage? Oh, go for it, do it all you want. He thinks it's hilarious.
Finds it particularly sweet if you're angry on the teams/his behalf. He can fight his own battles but he thinks it's a big sign of trust, friendship, etc. that you feel the need to defend him.
"Bless your heart, your brain ain't firing off on all cylinders is it, hun? Tsk, that's a shame..." "Excuse me?!" "You're excused, sweetpea. You're not gonna talk to my team that way, but you can turn your happy ass around and walk away. I ain't gonna have you disrespectin' the people who've been fightin' the good fight. Have a lovely day!" "How can you sound so sweet and yet so angry at the same time?" "Southern livin', sugar. Southern livin'."
Gaz is a bit of a foodie type, he likes trying cooking from any area he can go to. Southern cooking would...it'd be a new weakness for sure. A lot of it is unhealthy, yes, but he doesn't give a shit. It tastes good. Sometimes he thinks American food is an absolute sin and a disgrace, and he'll state it as such. Usually, it's stuff you agree on. Like bacon-covered donuts or fried butter. That shit's egregious. But things like southern-style chicken or rib-eye on a grill? You're gonna make him swoon with them roasted vegetables. Cooking for him is a surefire way to make you an unapologetic favorite in his book.
He won't say anything at the little jokes that people jab at you for your accent, but he will tell someone off if they say something that's clearly not funny and upsets you. Like trying to imply you're stupid because you come from Texas. (Speaking from personal experience) He thinks it's such a dumb thing to give someone shit over and he won't hesitate to say they're an idiot for trying to use it against you.
Hates sweet tea, I'm sorry. It's just tea but he can't stand it. He'll drink the unsweetened tea you make, but he'll make a dramatic face if he mixes them up. Something that you always laugh at.
He's great at driving basically any vehicle. Helicopters to mini coopers. He's never controlled a tractor before, but if you sit him in one and tell him the levers, it'll take him like...three minutes to get it down perfectly. Definitely gets a smug ass grin if you show you're amazed.
If he helps get you your call sign, he won't necessarily make it based on where you're from, it'll probably be based on a nickname, skill, or crucial event in your career. (Crash; you were thrown through a window, Hotshot; skill for sniping, etc.) But if he were to have one based on your southern ways? Sweet Tea, both for the fact you make it and the pet name you sometimes call him. (sweet pea)
✧Alejandro Vargas✧
Like Ghost, he's not super fond of Americans. His experience with most Americans are annoying tourists and Graves, leaves a pretty bad impression. He comes across unintentionally snappy when he first meets you, but Rudy will point it out, and he'll correct himself.
You aren't the annoying people he's dealt with and he knows it's not fair to say you are. Definitely talks shit on America though, and he'll honestly give you respect if you do the same. Since he's used to the kind of Americans that think being American give them a right to treat others like shit. He hates entitlement.
If you speak Spanish, he's gonna try really hard to not laugh at how your accent affects some words, but it's really hard. He means it in kind and if you're still learning when you meet him, he's proud when he hears you doing well in comprehension and sentences. Still, sounds just a lil silly.
He loves when your accent gets thick from rage, but he his favorite thing is if you speak Spanish in a rage, with your accent on top of it. It's a combination that fills his brain with serotonin.
"Eres un maldito idiota. ¡Tan útil como las tetas de un toro!" "Wha- Haha! What does that mean?!" "Did they say some super weird analogy?" "Si! They did!" "Yeaaah, they do that a lot."
He's notorious for having a naturally flirty personality, it's just how he's always been. Hence why not much phases him, but he does get a quite wide & genuine grin if you flirt back, making your accent extra intense. Especially with the pet names, another man who likes sweet words.
Thinks you having a southern call sign is really cute, especially if it's something your team calls you exclusively. He thinks it shows your endearment to your team. However, if your call sign is something you insist is only for friends, he'll get super giddy about being allowed to call you it.
If he were to pick? (Belle; Like southern belle whether you're fem! or not, Rodeo, and he might call you Americano- but like, in the coffee way. Like it's a sweet nickname, not just him saying your nationality)
Southern hospitality is something he is not used to. Again, bad experience with Americans. So if you explain all the various manners and nice gestures that are considered expected in your home state? He's completely confused, wondering why the Americans he's met don't keep that attitude up when they leave home.
Again, really likes it if you use southern pet names. Especially if you're trying to console him after a really tough day/mission. For some reason it really helps, like a cup of warm coffee on a cold morning.
"Aye, don't stress yourself over it, darlin'. Bad things happen that we can't control, you did everything you could and you were great at it. Don't let it eat at'cha, honey-bun." "Gracias, Bella. Lo necesitaba…" "Anytime, big guy. Now, you wanna see me try and fail again to open a de la Rosa without breaking it?" "Aha! How about I show you a trick to do it instead?"
Again, like Ghost, you're his special American. Gaz calls you his emotional-support American once and he thinks it's really funny, he'll call you as such every now and then.
✧Rodolfo Parra✧
Sweet darling man. He has nothing against you being American, nothing. But...he cannot understand anything you're saying. He's doing his best but he really doesn't know. He can feel his brain frying every time you bring up something super southern, trying to understand.
He'll have to lean over to your team to ask for a translation, anyone but Soap & Price will tack on an "I think, I'm not sure" at the end of their explanation. If he hears you use a phrase more than once, he'll add it to a little list of notes with the translation underneath it. Treats it like a whole different language. It's adorable.
Like Alejandro, he thinks it's funny if you speak Spanish with your accent. He'll keep a straight face because he knows you can't help it, but man is it fun to hear.
He's not very fond of a lot of yelling if he can avoid it, Rudy prefers disputes to be handled with calm words if possible. But he understands that sometimes it's necessary. Still, he'd want to try and calm you down if you're yelling. But, if you're just acting sickeningly-sweet, kind words that are clearly dripping with venom? He'll just watch. He thinks that shows you handle yourself very well and it's pretty attractive to him, not gonna lie.
"Awww I'm so sorry you're upset, poor thing. God bless you, sir, you have a lovely day. I hope that stick up your ass doesn't hurt too bad." "¡Soldado! No digas eso…" "Shh, sugar, it's fine. He wants to be rude, I can be rude back. An eye for an eye. Don't worry your pretty lil' head bout it, sweetheart." "Dios, a veces me asombras y me aterrorizas."
He's really hesitant about American food. It smells great sometimes but all he hears about American food is that it's greasy, or too salty, etc. Still, he won't deny any meal you make. He thinks it's rude to deny food unless it's something you're allergic to.
He ends up liking a few things, but he is biased to his home cooking. But if you start making his favorite foods, or somehow combine the styles in an honoring way? Oh, those are his favorites. He's particularly fond of American sweets though!
Please bake for this man, bake for him, I beg. Apple pie is an American staple for a reason and he'll jokingly claim he'll move to America if it means he can have apple pie every day.
"Rudy, that's your fourth piece! Ahaha, if I knew you liked it so much I woulda made ya more." "Ay, please do! ¡Fue enviado desde el cielo!" "Alright then, hun, I'll be sure to make you all the apple pie ya want."
Rudy really likes if you wear stuff like a cowboy hat. He's not really sure why, he just thinks it's really cute. If it's a staple of your whole look(like John's hat), seeing you protective over it, he thinks that's really cute. If you're protective of your cowboy hat but let him hold it/put it on his head to hold it, it's gonna fluster him. Even if your guy's relationship is completely platonic.
If you live near the border of Texas & Mexico, it makes visiting you pretty easy, so he'll have no qualms about going back and forth when off duty. He'll be more comfortable in his home but he won't turn down the offer to see your home, especially if it's a ranch. He's got a soft spot for farm animals. (Particularly goats)
If he has any control of how you choose your call sign, he'll likely pick something the same way Gaz does. But, if you have a thing about what certain people call you - like how only Ghost can call Soap "Johnny" - He feels really warm and fuzzy if he gets a special privilege.
(Translations; "Eres un maldito idiota. ¡Tan útil como las tetas de un toro!" - "You're a fucking idiot - as useful as a bull's tits/about as useful as tits on a bull!" "Gracias, Bella. Lo necesitaba…" - "Thank you, bella/beauty. I needed it." "¡Soldado! No digas eso…" - "Soldier! You can't say that..." "Dios, a veces me asombras y me aterrorizas." - "God, sometimes you amaze and terrify me." "¡Fue enviado desde el cielo!" - "It was sent from heaven!")
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larcenywrites · 10 days
Note
Hi English is not my first language, so sorry for the mistakes, but I could do a Kurt Wagner x reader, in which the reader follows the Wicca religion, or something linked to witchcraft, they are both in a relationship and I would like to see how their different beliefs would affect their relationship (already that Kurt is Catholic although I believe he has no prejudice in dating someone with a different religion I would like to see how this would affect their coexistence)
sorry for the writing errors
I have lots of thoughts about this that I can’t reflect in a single one shot, so for now I’ll do some headcanons! However, it would be interesting to parallel this with a spin on Kurt’s 2004 solo series! So I will probably do something with that :) Obviously, I can do research, but I am in no way knowledgeable about the practices nor those who practice wicca or witchcraft. I don’t want to generalize and say, like, “Kurt x witch reader”, but I’m not quite sure what else exactly to put :(
Nightcrawler with a Witch S/O
Headcanons
Warnings: aside from mentions of religion and witchcraft there’s nothing | I mean there’s some cute stuff here and there if it counts :)
⚜️ Kurt may be catholic, but his background is full of diverse people with different perspectives and practices!
⚜️ Scarlet Witch, his adopted mother, and his adopted sister all practice witchcraft, and he has a… well, decent enough relationship with all of them! But any of their spats have nothing to do with their way of life!
⚜️ He means well when he wants to drag you to mass Sunday morning. Really! He does! It’s something he’s done with every one of his friends by now, anyway, but it’s just that it’s a huge part of his life! He genuinely just wants you there! Sure, he can’t deny there’s always going to be some part of him that wants you to also be on some level of his own religion, but again, it’s from no place of ill will.
⚜️ After all, even though he has seen firsthand that this rule is relatively loose, I think it’s normal for someone in his belief system to worry whether their life partner will be able to join them in the afterlife :( He’s going to worry about it from time to time. He’s also definitely going to pray about it a lot. Take it in a sweet way— he just really cares about your love so much that he’s afraid it’ll have to end 🥲
⚜️ He also means well when he brings home various herbs and wildflowers he’s seen you use!! He probably even tries to make a cute little bouquet to present them! Obviously the source of said plants might not be ideal 😅 So maybe it’s time to expand a little garden! Plus, having a small garden if your preferred ingredients or offerings is a good way to teach him a thing or two in case he needs it (again), and he enjoys helping out in non-direct ways! Besides, gardening is a cute activity to do together 😘
⚜️ Speaking of which, while he’ll always be grounded in his faith, that doesn’t mean he doesn’t acknowledge everything around him! He’s seen demons and gods, magic and ghosts, heaven and… well, not hell, but you get the gist! So don’t worry, he knows well enough that not only what you do is real and powerful, but still a respectable craft. In fact, I’m sure he holds a deep respect especially if you tend to be one who thanks the Earth/ask permission for resources often. And you just might rub off on him! While he would be thanking God instead, it probably makes him more mindful of his everyday interactions with the environment 😌
⚜️ But because of his own beliefs, I’m sure certain practices or spells would make him nervous 😅 Because of this, if there’s a specific deity/god/goddess/etc you answer to/pray to that really clashes with his morals and beliefs, a relationship probably won’t last long.
⚜️ But just because some things make him nervous, it doesn’t mean he’s going to leave or anything. He might not partake in a tarot drawing or participate in certain things, but he still respects it and trusts you.
⚜️ But, uh, there might also be times when he’s literally in the next room holding the cross around his neck and praying aloud while you’re trying to do something 🤧 But this also works the other way around! Not only does it probably throw off either of your thoughts, but I’m sure it doesn’t help either of you when you both might be putting very different energy into the room rn 😅
⚜️ If for whatever reason you ever need something from him, like a bit of his fur, you probably have his permission already to just walk up to him with a pair of scissors! Even so, he usually asks billion questions 😒 So is it worth the hassle?
⚜️ While your beliefs and intentions may be different, you both might share quite a few daily rituals! Kurt won’t at all mind sharing the rug or the lawn with you if you meditate as often as he does. You both use it for similar reasons, really. It might even be both nice and interesting to have a conversation about any thoughts and experiences afterward 💙 Maybe, for once, you both found the answers you needed this morning and can share it :)
⚜️ But there are some other things he considers more “harmless,” so to speak that he does participate in. If you tend to journal things like dreams and daily experiences to cross reference later for any signs and such, he might do it too. Well- he’ll probably tell you his dreams or a reoccurrence he’s noticed (especially if it’s something that has been stressing him or maybe he’s just got a gut feeling he can’t explain) and see what you have to say about it! Just because you have different beliefs doesn’t mean he can’t find value in what you have studied and what you have to say!
⚜️ I’m sure many mornings he likes to drink teas with specific herbs and what they’re known for, and you might also partake in this! Of course, there’s probably much more intention behind the herbs you use, the way you prepare it, the way you stir it, but sometimes Kurt just likes to feel involved :)
⚜️ You don’t have to worry about him messing with any of your stuff! It’s probably out of both respect and paranoia, but he won’t mess with any alters or offerings or generally just the way you have your side of the room set up (though, probably after some gentle explaining here and there…)
⚜️ However, he may have a hard time with wanting to look at and touch any rocks and crystals… In a very respectful way, he just thinks they’re pretty and neat, okay? ;w; To be honest, get him one or two to have of his own that you think he needs when he’s stressed or when he’s out on missions. Kurt will carry them with him everywhere ❤️‍🩹 Because while he might not always believe that they carry this or that type of energy, he knows it means you care 🥰
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i explain india but i'm drunk.
Hello maggots of mine you're all such babygirls and bastards just like Aziraphale and Crowley. I'm so proud of you all for existing. Yes i'm a wholesome drunk you now know this about me. The wine tastes like rotten grapes and smells of battery acid and cost 245 rupees INR. Speaking of INR, thanks to a maggot's ask, I'm here to explain India. I've never set foot outside of this country. But I'm also very very shit at general knowledge.
To any non-Indians reading this, this is a totally legit 1000% everything covered all-inclusive summary. To any Indians reading this, I'm so so fucking sorry.
India, explained.
So there's south india and there's north india and there's north east india. north india is very racist about south india and they're both very racist about north east india. Most of these people are also probably racist either to other countries or they have internalised racism. It's a wild trip.
There are. A lot of languages here. And a LOT of scripts. I can read two scripts, understand four Indian languages and speak in two of them (badly), and those two are not my native tongues. I cannot speak in my native tongues. It's basically English at this point. These aren't dialects, those are separate. Picture like, Europe, but more, in terms of how many languages.
Everyone hates each other which is valid for the entire planet honestly.
In south india we have a lot of coconuts. Like a lot. There are so many coconuts you have no fucking idea guys you cannot escape the coconuts. I was nearly killed by a shower of coconuts when I was 5 I escaped by one second.
There are also cows. People will tell you that you are being racist when you say India has cows everywhere. But it's true. Two weeks ago I had the pleasure to be stuck in a traffic jam. Next to the street barrier thing (what divides a street im too drunk for this) I saw a huge bull fucking HUMPING a cow. The vehicles just had to move around them. They were having sex right there.
If you're a middle class Indian kid, your career options are: doctor, engineer, scientist, CA, lawyer, government official or family disappointment.
Needless to say, I was going to be doctor and am now instead family disappointment. I'm babygirling so hard it's insane. The prodigal son.
It's very ace-friendly and heterophobic in the sense that you are not supposed to be exhibiting any sexuality whatever in a respectable household. Just shut up and give virgin birth already. But be married. That's crucial.
Oh yeah gay marriage isn't legal trans people are constantly othered by society and/or given no respect whatsover and we're just all vibing here this is totally not why I'm finishing a small bottle of cheap wine on a thursday past midnight alone in my room.
Foreigners are like a zoo species you see them you're instantly concerned like what are they doing outside the TV screens and then either people are normal (rarely), they run up and take photos or try to slip into conversation (more often than you'd think, even I've been guilty of the conversation thing as a kid) OR they start talking about how 'this western culture is ruining our culture'. Which is fair but honestly both the 'cultures' these people are talking about usually involve incredible amounts of bigotry and are more similar than they think.
I think the lesson here is that humans just suck as a species. Except for you maggots. I love you all and I will defend you with my life.
THE CHAAT. THE CHAAT IS INSANELY AMAZING. YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND THE CHAAT. I HAVE NO SPICE TOLERANCE SO I HAVE TO BEG ON MY KNEES FOR THE SPICES TO BE REDUCED BUT STILL. THE CHAAT. THE CHAAT, YOU GUYS. YOU NEED IT.
Sorry yes I'm normal. ALSO THE STREET DOGS. THE INDIES. THEY'RE SO LOVELY AND SWEET AND CHAOTIC AND I KEEP TALKING TO THEM. Once when I was crying I made the dog distress while and like five dogs that I didn't know came running to me and comforted me and licked me.
INDIAN DANCE MUSIC. I FUCKING LOVE IT IT'S INSANE. My family were elitist as fuck so I never got to listen to Bollywood music as a kid but it's AMAZING I'm so glad it exists. Bhangra too.
Beaches very very pretty hills very very pretty honestly the nature is fucking beautiful if you can just quickly pretend humans don't exist, which again is true of this entire planet. Yeah. Okay I'm so fucking drunk.
Yeah lots of diversity which is very nice when the humans aren't screaming at each other about it but the rest of the time it's very nice
The garbage and sewer stories? yeah they're all true im sorry
Traffic rules more like traffic suggestions amirite
Well, we still have far better healthcare access than america. so. there is that.
If you speak English well you'll be mocked and isolated. If you speak English poorly you'll be mocked and isolated. Honestly, just be rich. That'll fix it all.
All the conservatives hate each other and don't realise they're the exact same but in like different flavours.
Oh yeah we have auto rickshaws. Look them up. They're so much better than cars I don't get motion sick as easily in them. But the drivers all hate you and never want to take you anywhere.
Eyyyyyyyyyy it's so fucking fun here *drinsk more alcohol* I am so fucking not looking forward to college.
Please someone crowdfund me out of here let's all go chill in Alpha Centauri I've heard it's nice this time of the year.
I will, however, miss the casual live cow pornos. A true highlight.
[I got this peer-reviewed by my friend in India's top law school, just in case, because I'm too drunk and generally dumb. They say I will not be killed. And they've been on Twitter so.]
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Irrefutable legal proof y'all. I don't mean to offend anyone except bigots. Fuck you, bigots, if you're not offended then I've disappointed my community.
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mistypsych · 1 year
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ANATOMY OF A CRIMINAL - CHAPTER 1
/ yoongi / suga / agust d /
summary: as a doctor you never expected to be dragged into “the criminal life”, nothing and no one seems to be true anymore, your whole world turns upside down after you save him.
pairings: yoongi mob boss x f.reader x non idol bts members.
warnings: smut, guns, knives, stabbings, blood, gore, murders, drugs, criminals, gang life, medical emergency, illness, abuse, swearing, angst, dubcon, gang violence, corruption, manipulation, lies, cheating - 18+ minors dni.
Note: Hi! This is an attempt of writing a fanfic long after writing anything at all. Please also keep in mind English is no longer my first language and it might be a bit rusty and odd at times but I try my best. The story is a non idol BTS fanfic with Suga being the main character. The first chapter or so there might not be a lot of Yoongi but I want the backstory to be clear. The next chapters there will be way more of him I promise! If you want to be on the tag list let me know!
You slowly stepped into the on-call room, sighing while rubbing your aching nape. The painful muscle tension was starting to turn into a headache. You sat down on the big couch and leaned your head back, instantly feeling your body loosen and sink into the soft cushions. Today was a rough day for the ER unit. The hospital was dealing with multiple trauma victims due to a horrendous bus collision. Some patients were barely banged up others unfortunately were looking like they might not make it threw the night. You were already dreading the moment you would have to talk with their family members in case the worse was to come.
The weight of the hour-less intense work and surgeries was starting to rub off on your whole body. As you were almost about to doze off, the doors slammed wide open. “What a fucking trip…” Jungkook stopped mid sentence when he saw you glare at him from under your hooded eyelids. “How many energy drinks did your pour into yourself Kook?” you said in a bit agitated tone. You were tired and running on fumes. He seemed way less strained.
The on-call room was called so for a reason. It was supposed to be a safe heaven for peace and rest. It seemed as tho people like your long time friend let those facts slip their mind. “Sorry Y/N. I did not think you were about to sleep… You looked on fire there!” scoffing a bit under your breath you mumbled “Sometimes I really doubt your capability to think at all… and yes I was lit because I had to at the moment plus I had tons of adrenaline pumping in my system. Now it’s all wearing off”. Running his tattooed hand threw the thick and shiny locks of hair he sighed in defeat. He knew your were right. At times he was way to energetic and high maintenance.
“Still good for tomorrow?” he changed the subject not wanting to get into a war of back and forth bantering. Nodding your head you hummed in agreement.
Both of you usually made plans on your days off to go out and give medical attention to those who were less fortunate. You took care of the homeless, drug addicts and poor elders that were embarrassed to seek help at the official medical institutions. Many times it was also the lack of insurance that could get very high. The two of you saw it as charity and giving back to society.
You met Jungkook at med school in the USA. He was a scholarship student that worked his way into getting the opportunity to study overseas. You were the only person at your year that was able to speak Korean due to the fact you went to Seoul during part of your high school years. So of course you were more than happy to help Kook who at times struggled with the more difficult English terms during the lectures.
Over the years you two grew close and he was the one to say you should once again go to Seoul and take up your internship there. Being an adventurous young woman the mere thought of it seemed a great idea. So here you were years later already after your internship with a secured position as one of the junior trauma surgeons and planning charity work with your friend. You already scheduled some “appointments” with your long term patients.
To be honest you preferred this type of work more than the big shot tasks at the hospital. For you medicine should focus more on helping people. The world showed you many times that if you were less fortunate or simply made some bigger mistakes in life, the cruel reality was that usually there was no way to afford medical attention and insurance. Sometimes it was also the cost of meds themselves. Those could be unbelievably high, especially when it came to rare or terminal illnesses.
You and Kookie worked with official charities that did their best to find funds for some crucial medication for the poor. Not once did you also end up saving lives of some addicts that overdosed. Usually people just let them lay on the streets and did not care to help. You could not blame them tho. The less nice areas of the city were also full of con artists and people simply did not want to risk their own lives. At times it was also the mentality of “they did it to themselves, now they need to bear the consequences”.
You were not there to judge. How could any of you know what these people went threw in life? What pushed them to “self medicate”. So you kept focused solemnly on helping those who seemed like they needed it.
You closed your eyes again trying to ignore the fact that Jungkook was rustling around with some food wrapping. “If I am to survive the last two hours of this hell shift and be of any use tomorrow I would greatly appreciate you stop making a ruckus and let me rest!” you huffed angrily, not even bothering to open your eyes. Once the room was filled with silence, a content smirk spread over your lips. At last the well deserved quiet. Sweet darkness of dreamland slowly took over your mind.
*** *** ***
Getting to your apartment after ending a difficult day at the hospital always filled you with relief. It was close to 8 p.m. Not having to work the night shift this time and having the day off tomorrow made you really happy. As you walked deeper into the hallway your nostrils got hit with a mouthwatering smell of delicious food cooking, it instantly made a smile spread on your lips. The sizzling sound coming from the kitchen meant that your fiancé was already off work as well.
He was one of the best criminal detectives in the city. You both worked hard and sometimes very long hours, but you somehow managed to keep your relationship flourishing threw all the years. Walking towards the sweet and sour smell, you saw his slim frame hovering over some pans and stirring their content. His wide slim shoulders moving under a simple black t-shirt. They matched so well with his thin waist shaping his figure into a perfect triangle.
Resting against the door frame you stared at him in awe. “Are you gonna keep looking or do you plan on saying hello?” he said in a joking tone and turned to you with a big grin that reached to his eyes. You always wondered how he could keep such a sunshine attitude while working a job full of murders, death and gore.
Pushing your back off the frame you walked to him humming and wrapping your arms around him. You rested your chin on his shoulder, breathing in his fresh scent. “Hoba… you are too good to me…” you murmured and kissed him behind the ear. The fact that after a surely long day of work for him, he was there making you both a nice late dinner made your heart squeeze.
You really appreciated having him in you life and that somehow you both were deeply involved despite having hectic and difficult careers. The saying - where there is will there is a way - always made you think of your relationship with Hoseok.
After finishing dinner and basically licking your plate clean, you turned to Hobi with a smile “I’ll take care of the dishes” you said taking the plates from the table and making your way to the kitchen. As you were about to dry off the last glass you felt slender fingers creep up your back. You turned your face a bit a small smirk twisting the side of your lips.
“I was thinking of desert…” Hoseok said in a deep voice staring straight into your eyes. “Oh yea? You want me to run down to the store and grab something?” you teased, being well aware that was not what he had in mind. The twinkling of your eyes giving away how much you were enjoying this. But your fiancé was not the type to put up with games for too long so his only response was rolling his eyes, grabbing you and lifting you up. Wrapping your legs around his waist you kissed him desperately.
Lately both of you were so busy with work, you barely had the time or strength for even watching a movie together, so you excitedly welcomed the attention he was giving you. Not bothering to make it to the bedroom you ended on his lap on the couch. Your kisses were getting wild and messy. Just as you started to grind against his growing member, your breaths getting fast and uneven, you heard the loud ring of your phone.
If it were any other signal you would chose to ignore it completely, but the ring tone suggested is was Jungkook from his “special” number in case of an emergency. “Foooor fucks sake!” you growled trying to wait out the call, still kissing and moving your hips over your fiancé. If it was just a couple rings you could try and tell yourself your friend was piss ass drunk messing around.
Much to your dismay the phone kept on buzzing “I need to take this…” you said sadly looking at Hobi who was trying to even out his excited heartbeat. “It’s ok babe” he said, he knew he could not be angry about it, usually it was him being called into some crime scene. You walked away to answer the call “You better be almost dead or something close to that to have a reason for calling me at this hour!” you hissed into the speaker.
“Y/N! This is serious. A guy needs help… he can’t get into the hospital and the wounds are beyond my expertise. I am downstairs waiting for you. I really need your fucking help. I will explain everything later” his voice was shaky and full of what seemed like fear, so you stopped your ranting right away.
You quickly ran to grab your coat “I am coming down!” closing the door on your way out you told Hoseok you might have a very late night and maybe he should not wait up for you. Taking quick strides down the stairs of your apartment building you once again were thanking the universe for the most understanding man to have chosen to exist in your life.
*** *** ***
You quickly got into Kooks car throwing your medical bag onto the back seat. “I brought all my suturing stuff in case it was really that bad…” you said under your breath still a bit irked at the fact you were driving somewhere instead of getting frisky with your lover. “You will need it. Trust me…” is all your friend said.
Turing to finally look at him you saw he was pale, his hair was messy and his forehead was beaded with sweat. He was clutching the stirring wheel to the point his knuckles were white. You never saw him so nervous, not even at the hospitals ER unit.
Driving in silence for some time you finally snapped out of your trail of thoughts and realized you made it into the shady outskirts of Seoul. Even when working on your charity missions you both never made it into the really dangerous corners of the city, so you were very surprised and felt a shiver run threw your body.
You let your questioning gaze fall to Kookie, you were about to blurt out a “what the fuck man?” but before you could, he was out of the car grabbing your bag and walking to your side. Seeing your face full of questions, he opened the car door for you looking at you seriously “It’s fine… we are fine… we need to go there” he pointed towards a dark building that looked like a hangar.
Your body involuntarily shook at the sight. You immediately thought of all the crime scenes and stories Hobi shared with you from time to time when you asked him about work. But instead of listening to your panicking mind, you decided that surely Jungkook had to know what was going on and since he said it was fine it had to be, right?
You cautiously walked behind him letting him carry your bag. Usually you would always rip it out just to show what a strong and independent woman you were. Once you walked into the building you could hear the soles of your shoes clank on the hard floor. It all started to feel like some thriller movie, the type with a bad ending. The beating of your heart was so loud you could swear Kook had to hear it. The adrenalin was rushing in your system and you were starting to feel in flight mode.
Before you could panic more, an unknown voice broke you out of the cycle “Fucking bout’ time!” a tall and strong built guy growled at your friend and then eyed you top to bottom. “This is that great surgeon? She is supposed to be better than you?” he scoffed, a look of disbelief forming on his face. “For your information I am fucking better at surgical work than most!” you snapped. You were freaked out and now some dude that looked like a typical thug was trying to insult you.
“You better not be just running your mouth hun” he smirked grabbing you by the wrist and pulling you to the next room. He basically shoved you inside and tossed your bag at you. You didn’t even know when he managed to take it from Kook. The sight in front of you was gruesome. A young male about your age was laying on some banged up table. Blood was oozing out of his stomach. His pitch black long hair was sticky, his skin pale as a sheet of paper.
“Bloody hell…” you whispered walking up to the man. You turned to look at your colleague giving him the “what do you expect me to do?! make a fucking miracle happen?!” stare. You bent over the man and checked for a pulse. To your surprise he was still alive.
Looking at his slashed abdomen you thought to yourself there is now way you can do anything in these conditions. Even if by some chance you were to manage to stitch him up, the place was far from sterile, so he would die of sepsis anyway. “He needs a fucking hospital!” you say and take your phone out to call up an ambulance.
Suddenly your cell got knocked out of your hands and fell to the floor with a loud thud. Just as your were about to scream your head off, you saw it, the end of a gun pointing straight at your forehead. “No hospitals” the tall male snarled. Now you were sure, you got into some gang business and this was not gonna go the way you want.
tag list: @wobblewobble822
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