#you mean to tell me that the languages that are related to english are actually a lot easier to learn???

[sophiamcdougall]

I am never going to complain about Greek Duolingo again

I mean, I am. But still.

So, as some of you know, my family has been coming to this tiny Greek seaside village for several years. Just over a week ago I came out here with my mum, under the impression that early September, after the height of the summer heat, would be a good time to have a holiday. ANYWAY Storm Daniel had other ideas about that. Locally things are improving (I'm actually really pissed off about the disaster-porn tone of most English-language media coverage, but that's another post). The power is back on, there's running water most of the time, and though the latter is not drinkable, a truck from the government came and handled out free bottled water yesterday. But we are currently kind of stuck. Can't do tourist things. Can't go home. There aren't any local flights out until Saturday and the road to Thessaloniki is still closed.

So this evening, feeling kind of aimless and depressed, I go down to the nearest beach with a couple of binbags and start cleaning up in an effort to at least do something positive. I always try to do this at least once out here and obviously, after the storm, there's a lot more plastic and rubbish than usual.

At some point I find this large, round bit of metal - some kind of machinery part, I think -- that's too big for the bag, so I take it to the bins on its own, leaving the rubbish bag on the beach. And when I come back for it, something among the stones beside it moves.

Specifically, it pulls its head sharply inside its shell

So, meanwhile I've been trying to learn some Greek with the help of Duolingo.

I currently have a 33-day streak and... I have questions. Shouldn't I be able to use the past or future tenses by now? Shouldn't I be able to say "x is like y"? I can't do those things. But one thing I absolutely can say all day long is έχω μια χελώνα : I have a turtle.

This is far from the limit of Duolingo Greek's turtle-related content. "An obsession with turtles" is my mother's characterisation. I can inform you that the turtle is not a bird, and, improbably, that the turtle is drinking milk. I can introduce you to a turtle in company with a horse and an elephant. As far as Duolingo is concerned, it really is turtles all the way down.

Now this, you may be able to see, is not a turtle. It has claws rather than flippers. It is a tortoise. I know there are wild tortoises in Greece: my aunt once rescued a pair of them shagging in the middle of the road -- but that was up in the mountains. I've even seen one myself, but it was also on a road and very dead.

I am 95% certain they don't belong on beaches. There's nothing for it to eat, except, unfortunately, a lot of plastic. Even if it gets off the beach it will immediately find itself on a road where it could get hit by a car. I'm pretty sure it must have been washed down by the floodwater and has been just sitting there, dazed, ever since.

Now obviously the first thing I want to do on encountering this unusual animal is to go and tell my mummy, so I do. The tortoise immediately brightens her day. She agrees that the tortoise is not happy on the beach and needs to be taken somewhere safe. it gets surprisingly wriggly when picked up so we put it in a carrier bag with some grapes and cucumber and go looking for somewhere to rehome it.

We find a path leading up between the houses towards a likely-looking field, but before we get very far a dog in a yard goes berserk and a man's head pops over a fence and demands to know what we're doing. He does this in English, as evidently we're just that obviously tourists.

"I found a tortoise on the beach!" I explain. "We want to find somewhere to put it."

"A what," he asks.

"It's like a, you know," I begin and then to my astonishment I find myself saying... "μια χελώνα"

"Oh! A turtle!" he says.

"But from the land. δεν είναι χελώνα", [it is not a turtle,] I say, as I am worried he will tell me to put it back near the sea where I found it. As it turns out it actually IS a χελώνα, Greek does not distinguish between turtles and tortoises, but I don't know that; I can't even name the days of the week or identify any colours other than pink yet, give me a break.

The man's entire demeanour changes and thaws. He does not worry about my turtle-that-is-not-a-turtle conundrum. He knows where οι χελώνες come from and where η χελώνα μας belongs. He leads us through a gate into a courtyard area.

"[somethingsomething] μια χελώνα," he explains to the assembled onlookers, of whom there are, suddenly, a surprising number.

"ΜΙΑ ΧΕΛΩΝΑ!!!" crows the throng of delighted small children, who are, suddenly, everywhere.

"μια χελώνα!" I agree, accepting that at least for current purposes, that is what it is.

"Μπορούμε να δούμε τη χελώνα σας; [can we see your turtle?]" asks an adorable little girl, shyly, and I understand??

The children fucking love looking at the χελώνα and showing it to them is kind of magical?

I finally put the tortoise down on the grass of this wild area off to the side of the courtyard, and marvel aloud that it is weird that I barely know any Greek except how to say μια χελώνα.

"I think she will soon run off," a kind lady called Aspasia assures me, seeing I remain slightly anxious about its fate. "I don't know why I'm saying 'she'. I suppose because χελώνα is feminine in Greek."

"Yes! I know that!" I exclaim, thrilled.

"Well done!" she says. And also she asks if we are OK for drinking water after the storm and if we need any help with anything and is just generally incredibly lovely and now we know more of the neighbours!

So "μια χελώνα" has just become, by a long way, my most-used and most understood and all-around most conversationally successful phrase in Greek. So I guess I have to admit I was wrong to doubt Duolingo's wisdom: it is correct to be obsessed with turtles. And I concede that prior to learning how to count to ten or to distinguish right from left, the simple ability to yell the word TURTLE over and over again is, it turns out, a crucial element of the responsible traveller's social skills.

(I am pretty fluent in Italian and turtles haven't come up in conversation even once?)

[yanwonnies]

Can you do something viagra pill related with either jungwon or sunoo ?

Only if ur comfortable !! Tysm <3

ꜜ : 𝑯𝒂𝒑𝒑𝒚 𝑷𝒊𝒍𝒍 ﹙ 양정원! ﹚

↝ Jungwon mistakenly takes the wrong pill, and his cute member finds herself helping him deal with the effects.

⠇↴ Pairings: poly!ot7 x added member!reader ﹙ y.jw centric. ﹚ ⠇↴ Words: 5,3K

Warnings ‎⸝⸝⸝ smut, dom!Jungwon x sub!Reader, neck kisses, biting, nipple play (a lot actually), lots of teasing, a bit mean! Jungwon, marking, dry humping, desperate!Jungwon as well as needy!Jungwon, Noona kink, fingering, use of viagra, orgasm denial, reader slowly falling into a subspace, hints of shower sex, overstimulation…. I think that's all, tell me if I miss something.

Wonnie’s note ‎⸝⸝⸝ okayyyy when I read it the first thing I thought was… it could be interesting 🤭. I think the most likely to be in that situation is jungwon…. (not because he's my bias and he's got me all bad lately😁). The ending to me is so cute and sweet . Without further ado, I hope it lives up to your expectations (it's my first time writing smut 🫣) and sorry for the delay, university wants to kill me. I'm a bit obsessed with the AU!8th member so… yeah. I'm also sorry if it's too long, but I was writing and my head was adding more things 🙃.

Again, English is not my first language, so I'm sorry if there are mistakes or if I lose the sense in some parts. thank you very much for taking the time to read my work. ᵔᴗᵔ

𝘺𝘢𝘯𝘸𝘰𝘯𝘯𝘪𝘦𝘴 2024 © 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘴 𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘦𝘳𝘷𝘦𝘥.

The video game on the screen emitted a constant sound: the click of the controller, the sound effects and the melodies of the game created a kind of murmur that intertwined with the quiet atmosphere. The light from the screen projected sparkles on the floor and walls, creating patterns that danced softly with each change in the game. Ni-Ki, had settled himself on my legs, his body resting with obvious comfort on my thighs. Each time he adjusted his position, his movements were careful, as if he was trying not to disturb me as he concentrated again on the screen.

Suddenly, the stillness of the room was broken by the sound of a door. My attention was instantly diverted to the noise. There stood Jungwon. The first thing I noticed was how he was walking with one hand on his forehead, as if he was trying to push away a pain he could not relieve. His hair, falling over his eyes, partially hid his expression.

He moved slowly toward the couch, each step seeming like a small struggle against the discomfort that plagued him. When he reached our side, he leaned gently, resting his weight on my shoulder.

-What's wrong? -I asked, my voice soft and concerned. My fingers slid through the soft, somewhat messy texture of his hair, feeling each strand between my fingers. The sigh of satisfaction he let out was almost inaudible, but his relief was evident in the way he relaxed a little against me.

-Do you have something for a headache? -His voice, though softened by discomfort, carried an almost pleading tone. His closeness allowed me to feel how his muscles were tense, how his body was in a state of exhaustion.

Without thinking too much, I quickly replied -The pills are in my bag.

Jungwon nodded slowly. His head tilted slightly to one side, and his lips murmured a barely audible thanks. The expression on his face, though partially hidden, clearly conveyed the relief he felt knowing that there was a near solution to his pain.

He slowly sat up, his muscles tense and his body in a hunched posture that reflected his discomfort. His legs, as he moved, seemed tired, as if each step he took required great effort. I watched him carefully as he made his way down the hall.

He left the room, his figure fading into the doorway, which closed behind him with a barely perceptible click, which marked the end of his brief appearance. I turned my attention back to Ni-Ki, who was still immersed in the video game, though my concern for Jungwon remained latent in my mind.

I hope that this pill can alleviate it…

The hours passed slowly. The afternoon, which had initially been vibrant and full of light, began to fade into a warm orange glow.

Suddenly, the silence was broken by the insistent buzzing of my phone. I glanced at the screen and saw that it was a call from Jungwon. The view of his name on the identifier made me frown.

His tone was different from usual, harsher -Can you come to my room? -he asked, and the tone in his voice was imbued with a silent plea.

A wave of worry swept over me, and without much thought, I left Ni-Ki in the living room. I heard a small whimper from him as I stood up, a small protest at my departure. I leaned over to him and gave him a soft kiss on the head, feeling the warmth of his skin under my lips.

-I'm gonna be quick, okay? -I said, trying to give him a sense of security. Ni-Ki looked up for a moment, his eyes reflecting a mixture of curiosity and slight disappointment, but he nodded slowly.

I quickly made my way toward Jungwon's room, feeling a growing uneasiness urging me forward in a hurry. As I reached the door to his room, I paused for a moment to take a deep breath. The wood felt cool under my hand as I turned the knob with a gentle motion, almost afraid to interrupt the fragile silence that reigned within. The door opened with a slight creak, and what I saw made me pause for a moment.

Jungwon was huddled under the sheets, his body looking small and frail compared to the room around him. His breathing was ragged, choppy, as if each inhalation was a painful effort. Movement under the sheets was minimal, but I noticed how his body tensed and relaxed in a rhythm that seemed unnatural.

I approached slowly, avoiding any sudden movements that might alarm him, trying to arrange the blankets around him with slow, delicate movements.

When I was close enough, I felt a sudden tug on my wrist. His hand closed around it with unexpected strength, a firm pressure that made me stop in my tracks. The grip was hot, almost feverish, and before I could react, he pulled me to him with a gentleness that contrasted with the strength of his hold.

I found myself being pulled under the sheets, the contact with his skin was immediate, and the first sensation that overcame me was the overwhelming heat emanating from him. His skin was covered in a thin layer of sweat, the dampness was palpable and mingled with the cool air in the room.

Jungwon sank into my neck urgently. His lips, soft and warm, found my skin with a mixture of desperation and desire. His mouth, slightly moist, left a warm, sticky trail along my skin. I could feel his lips move in a slow, deliberate rhythm, as if seeking deep comfort in every little brush.

His lips slid down the side of my neck, finding a particularly sensitive spot. There, the brush of his lips became more insistent. His hand began to move under my shirt, brushing my abdomen with a gentleness that contrasted with the intensity of his kisses.

I tried to articulate a few words, but a particularly strong bite on my skin made me let out a choked moan, my body arching into him in response to the sensation. The stabbing pain mixed with the sharp pleasure made my breathing become ragged.

-You… can't leave marks, wonie… -my voice trembling with desire. I was trying to maintain some control, but the urgency in his touch made my words fall apart, drowned out by the moans escaping my throat.

He simply murmured in a voice laden with need -I don't give a shit.

His hands continued their journey with increasing determination.

They pulled up my shirt with firm, purposeful movements, until, with a quick gesture, he pulled it over my head. The feel of the fabric sliding across my skin and the cool air caressing my naked torso made every inch of me bristle.

With precise movements, he undid the clasp of my bra. The subtle sound of the clasp releasing was followed by the feel of the fabric giving way. He tossed the bra aside, unconcerned with where it fell, as his eyes roamed my chest with an almost palpable intensity.

One of his hands went to one of my nipples. He touched it with a mixture of firmness and eagerness, his fingers moving in small circles, squeezing and caressing. His movements were relentless, alternating between grazing the skin and tugging it gently, creating constant stimulation. Each touch and tug made my chest heave, increasing the burning and pleasure.

Jungwon, with a teasing smile, asked -Does it feel good?

Before I could answer, his hand applied a particularly strong tug on my nipple, making me let out a choked moan.

Without wasting a second, he leaned forward and grabbed the other nipple with his mouth. His teeth clamped down on it, biting it hard. The heat of his breath and the brush of his tongue intensified each sensation. Meanwhile, the other remained still in his hand, which after a few moments, he released, leaving it pink and noticeably sensitive.

He peeled off the other with a slow drag of his mouth and, seeing the result of his work, he smiled a satisfied smile. The skin was swollen and red, clearly affected by the intensity of his attention. Without warning, he blew gently on it, letting the cool air contrast with the warmth he had left. A shiver ran through my body in response, wrenching an involuntary moan from me that echoed through the room.

Without hesitation, he lowered his mouth to the other nipple, trapping it between his lips with the same intensity he had shown before. His tongue played with the tip, licking and sucking before his teeth caught it with a precise bite. He stretched it with a firmness that made me gasp, pulling on it with a mixture of gentleness and roughness that ignited my skin.

As his mouth worked on my chest, his hands began to slide down my naked torso, each movement sending a shiver down my spine. His fingers were firm, almost possessive, as they traced the outline of my ribs, slowly moving down to my hips. His fingers followed their path to my thighs, and there, his hands closed tightly, squeezing the flesh as he lifted me up to wrap my legs around his hips. I felt the pressure of his erection against my center, rubbing against the uncomfortable wetness between my legs. A choked moan escaped my lips and my hands clung to his shoulders, my nails digging into his skin as my body was reduced to a mess of small moans.

The sensation of his mouth on my chest, combined with the delicious press of his erection against my pussy, had me dizzy, lost in a haze of pleasure. My hands clutched at his hair, tugging lightly as I tried to maintain some sort of control over my body, but it was no use. Every stimulation was too much, but at the same time, it wasn't enough.

Even in my state, Jungwon seemed to be even more anxious. I could feel the lack of patience in his every movement, his body was clearly agitated and needy. His breathing was becoming increasingly ragged, punctuated by grunts and groans of frustration and desire.

With a sudden movement, he peeled himself off my chest, producing a slight "pop" that echoed through the room. With a quick, desperate urgency, he pulled his shirt over his head, the movement revealing his incredible torso. My eyes couldn't tear themselves away from the sight of his perfectly defined abs, every muscle hard and marked in the dim light of the room. His skin tone was slightly golden, and the beads of sweat that still lingered on him glistened like tiny pearls in the light.

My hand moved almost of its own accord, eager to touch him, and brushed his stomach with the softness of a feather, an almost ethereal contact. My fingers traced the contours of his abs, feeling the hardness of his skin beneath my fingertips.

I looked up into his eyes. They were completely dark and dilated. His gaze was so intense, so charged with an almost primal need, that it made me aware of how intimidating he looked at this moment.

His hands moved again, but with a more determined focus. The pressure of his fingers became more intense, moving to the inside of my thighs with a firmness that made me let out a choked gasp.

He slid decisively toward the edge of my shorts. With determination, he slowly pulled them down my legs. Without breaking eye contact, his head slowly descended toward my abdomen, his lips leaving a series of soft kisses that turned into playful nibbles on my skin. Each brush of his lips and light nibble increased the tingling on my skin, making me moan under his touch.

My shorts were discarded completely, leaving me in just my lacy panties. Jungwon, with his mischievous gaze, rested his head on my thigh. His eyes fixed on the obvious stain of my arousal. He looked up slowly, feigning innocence with a playful smile that belied the intensity of his gaze.

-How pretty you sound, noona…"-his fingers, as soft as a whisper, brushed the edge of my panties, sending a shiver down my spine. He slid the fabric down and let out a sigh as he sensed the thin trace of arousal left clinging to the garment.

Sensing the intensity of his gaze, I tried to close my legs in embarrassment. However, he grabbed my knees and pulled them apart with a firm grip. His expression became somewhat hard, and with a threatening tone, he whispered -Don't do that, noona.

Jungwon lowered his head again until he was level with my belly, his burning gaze fixed on my exposed skin. His lips moved kissing and nibbling at my skin with an intensity that bordered on torture.

An unexpected gasp escaped my lips as I felt his rough fingers trailing along my folds, avoiding my clit completely. I tried to move my hips to guide his touch to where I wanted it most, sensing my movement, Jungwon pressed his teeth harder, a clear message for me to stop.

-Wonie…Please… -I pleaded, my voice quivering with pleasure.

A desperate moan escaped my lips as his middle finger began to rub my clit. His movements were deliberately slow and cruel, drawing little circles that made me gasp and writhe in pleasure. Jungwon laughed with a mischievous tone, his laughter laden with a satisfaction that echoed in the air. I felt his fingers slide inside my pussy, and the wetness they found was palpable. The warmth and softness of my insides seemed to greet them eagerly.

His fingers found that spongy spot inside me. The precise pressure on that exact spot caused me to shudder, a wave of intense sensations that almost made me scream. I was so sensitive that every touch seemed to push me over the edge. With a mischievous smile, in a whisper laden with provocation, he said -I found it, noona…

Jungwon leaned toward me, his warm breath caressing my skin. With a mixture of amusement and cruelty in his eyes, he moved to my cheek and left a chaste kiss there. A gesture that seemed to mock the desperation I felt. I could only let out a moan of frustration and desire.

His breath was warm and vibrant brushing against my skin as his lips descended from my cheek to my jaw, and from there, back to my neck. Every kiss and caress was full of provocation. His touch seemed to know exactly how to keep me on the edge of pleasure.

Finally, his lips moved back to my nipples, which were already fully alert from his earlier attention. His kisses were both gentle and demanding, nibbling and licking with almost cruel attention. My hands, in a desperate impulse, pulled her hair tightly.

Meanwhile, his fingers kept moving inside me with lethal mastery. I felt his fingers curling and sliding inside me with devastating precision. Every movement was calculated to stimulate every inch of my insides. My legs began to tremble uncontrollably, the shudder rising from my loins, causing my body to jerk in response to his touch.

My walls contracted around his fingers, adjusting to his every thrust. The pressure and steady rhythm caused my breathing to become erratic, my chest rising and falling rapidly. The moans that were soft before were now becoming higher pitched and desperate, reflective of the intensity of the pleasure I was feeling.

Suddenly, Jungwon stopped.

His face lit up with a sneer as he pulled his mouth away from my chest, leaving one last bite that made me let out a high-pitched moan -J-Jungwon, please -I pleaded, my voice cracking and shaking. He looked at me with an expression that mixed amusement with cruelty -Not yet, noona… -he told me, his voice laden with a commanding but soft tone.

I felt his thumbs press lightly into my muscles, as if he was gauging my reaction, enjoying the way my body responded to his touch. His fingers moved to my inner thighs, slowly moving up, approaching my center, before moving away again, leaving me in a state of torturous anticipation. It was as if he was playing with my boundaries, bringing me to the edge and then pulling away, causing my skin to bristle under his touch.

My head was spinning at the denial of my release. The intensity of the moment had reached a point where my entire being was focused solely on desire and desperation. Jungwon, however, simply leaned over me, his lips brushing my skin with unexpected sweetness, leaving gentle kisses all over my face but my lips. Each kiss was a mixture of softness and control, giving me the time I needed to steady my breathing, though desperation still bubbled beneath the surface.

He watched my chest heave as I tried to catch my breath, my body feeling like jelly, completely surrendered to the sensation of his caresses. Jungwon grasped my chin with a firm but gentle hand. I felt his wet fingers, infused with my own arousal, gliding over my skin.

-Look at me, noona -His authority-laden voice burrowed into every corner of my mind, forcing me to focus on him.

Every blink was an effort as I tried to focus on his face. When I finally looked up at him, I saw his satisfied expression, a gleam in his eyes that made me feel an even deeper mix of submission and desire -There's my pretty noona -he said, his voice vibrating with a mixture of pride and affection.

Before I could react, his lips were on mine. His tongue slid between my lips with a mastery that made me let out a small, almost involuntary moan that vibrated in his mouth. My body responded instinctively, my hands clinging to his neck and shoulders, trying to keep myself anchored as he mastered the kiss.

The kiss began to slow, the separation so slow and deliberate that it left me in a state of euphoria, my body trembling and my senses saturated by the contact.

I was still so disoriented, trying to clear my mind, when I felt his hand disappear from my cheek. A whimper of protest escaped my lips in search of his touch, feeling an immediate emptiness in its absence. The sound of clothes falling to the floor was all I could hear as my mind tried to process what was happening.

A shiver ran through me as I imagined the scene, but before my mind could wander too far, I felt his hand on my cheek again, bringing me back to reality. Jungwon leaned into me, leaving a small kiss on my jaw, and that simple touch sent a wave of relief through me. His soft lips and the way he looked at me seemed to be a mixture of affection and power -You've been so good to me, noona…letting me use you like this -he whispered, his voice was low and filled with an overwhelming confidence that made me shiver with desire.

I was overcome with a mixture of emotions: the submission, desire and satisfaction that filled me were almost too much to take.

-Jungwon… -My voice was barely a whisper, a call drowned out by the intensity of what I was feeling.

Jungwon leaned toward me, and in an unexpectedly tender gesture, placed a small kiss on my nose. His voice became a low murmur, laden with an authority that seemed to know exactly how to manipulate my emotions -Can you still hold out a little longer? -he asked, his tone soft but charged with expectation. I nodded, unable to form coherent words as my mind was in a state of pleasurable confusion.

-Words, noona -he demanded, looking me straight in the eye, waiting for me to tell him what I needed. With a tremor in my voice, I stammered -Y-yes… I can… please…

Slowly, he sank into me, each little piece of him filling me, stretching me as he went deeper. His name came out of my mouth in a choked gasp as my body grew accustomed to him. I could feel every pulse of his body inside mine, the heat and pressure a perfect mix of pleasure and pain that made me arch my back and cling to him.

Jungwon knew exactly what he was doing, he knew his size was pushing me over the edge. He stood still for a moment, letting my body adjust to the intrusion. His hands moved slowly, stroking my sides, his fingers tracing soft lines up and down my skin -So beautiful like this…so full and ready for me

I knew he was controlling his every move so as not to hurt me. Every time his hips moved, I felt my walls tighten around him, trying to settle around him. Jungwon hissed as he felt that tight fit, the sound of his ragged breathing demonstrating how intensely I was affecting him.

With each thrust, my body tensed, the familiar, sought-after knot forming deep in my stomach, tightening and contracting my walls around it. My breathing became erratic, each exhalation a ragged sigh of pleasure. I pressed against him, trying to maximize the sensation, and in response, he let out a guttural -Oh, shit… -between gritted teeth. His hands remained firm on my waist.

-Don't do that, noona… -His voice was a low, authoritative growl, a warning and a plea at the same time. His rhythm became more insistent, each thrust deeper and more demanding. My hands sought his back, clinging to him, digging my nails into his skin. I felt my breathing become ragged, panting as he continued his brutal rhythm.

-Wonie… -I moaned, the pressure in my belly building up more and more.

Despite the intensity of his onslaught, the soft kiss he left on my neck was an almost cruel contrast. Each stroke against my g-spot made me feel like I was on the verge of collapse.

The whispered words in my ear, laden with a mixture of malice and satisfaction, were the final trigger -So good for me… Get off me, noona. I've got you

As his words penetrated my mind, the knot of pleasure erupted with overwhelming force. I felt my pussy clench around him, my body yielding to the surge of pleasure that engulfed me. My juices began to flow spilling all over his pelvis, soaking the base of his cock and dripping onto the sheets.

The sensation of Jungwon moving inside me is overwhelming, a pleasure so intense that I struggle to maintain coherence. His every movement is a deep, meticulous back-and-forth, making sure every inch of his cock slides inside me.

My walls contract frantically around his cock, squeezing tighter and tighter as his onslaught becomes more intense. My breathing becomes erratic, panting deeply as I try to adjust to his relentless rhythm.

-It's too much… please… -I stammered, my voice shaking. The overstimulation was pounding me mercilessly, and my body strained against him.

Jungwon, however, did not slow down. Instead, his voice became a low whisper -Just a bit more, noona…

His lips met mine in an intoxicating kiss. The contact was wild and fervent; I felt his tongue slide in a wild rhythm, thrusting and playing with mine.

His movements were deep and methodical, as if he wanted to ensure that every part of me felt completely filled. I felt my walls tighten around him, a perfect, squeezing fit that made him grunt under his breath. Finally, he spilled inside me with a series of firm, decisive thrusts, his body quivering with release, and the warmth of his semen filling me completely.

The kiss broke abruptly, and he buried his face in my neck, seeking refuge and comfort as his breathing calmed. I felt his warm, moist lips leaving small kisses on my skin. The intensity of his movements faded, and with each breath, I felt his body relax against mine. The room was filled with the echo of our gasps.

As my breathing also began to regulate, I brought my hands to his hair. My fingers slid gently through his locks, caressing his scalp tenderly. I caressed each strand with care, dragging my nails gently across his skin, feeling his muscles relax under my caresses. His skin was warm and moist, and with each movement of my fingers, he let out a murmur of satisfaction, a low, throaty sound that echoed against my neck and confirmed the pleasure my touch was giving him.

His hands began to explore my stomach with gentle, careful movements. I was enveloped in a mixture of tranquility and euphoria, enjoying the feel of his body against mine. The warmth of his hands on my abdomen and the way he held me in a protective, loving way helped me calm down as I caught my breath.

After a few minutes in this position, feeling his comforting weight on me, he slowly lifted his face from my neck and looked at me with those sparkling eyes. With a soft smile, he leaned in and gave me a soft kiss, his lips meeting mine with a sweetness that made me sigh.

When he moved to give me that kiss, I couldn't help but respond to the caress of his mouth. My body, still sensitive and trembling, reacted to the slight movement with a low moan. Despite his softness, the fact that he was still inside me kept me in a state of subtle excitement.

Jungwon broke the kiss with a whisper -Let's clean you up -He gave me one last peak, before placing his hands on either side of my body and towering over me.

I felt a small moan escape my lips as his cock slowly withdrew from inside me. The sensation of emptiness was immediate and sharp, intensified by the warm flow of his semen sliding out of me. I felt the mixture of fluids run down my thighs and mingle with my own fluids.

I watched him as he moved out of bed, his powerful, masculine figure moving with a natural grace toward the bathroom. I closed my eyes for a moment, allowing exhaustion to take over. It wasn't long before I felt his strong arms slide under my knees and around my waist.

I opened my eyes slowly and found Jungwon's chest, broad and firm. I leaned forward to give him a small kiss as a sign of appreciation. I watched as a shy smile formed on his lips, and his ears flushed an adorable shade of pink. The sight of him, with that adorable blush, made me laugh softly. It seemed incredible to me how, minutes before, I could barely articulate words and now he was there, blushing.

Jungwon, with his gentleness, set me down in the bathtub in his room, then slid in behind me, settling against my back in a way that seemed so natural. The silence that settled between us was comfortable, and allowed me to sink into my thoughts.

I found myself thinking about the source of all this sudden need. The last thing I remembered was seeing Jungwon take a headache pill…

Oh

A few days ago, Heeseung and Sunghoon had gone to a slightly racy program, and as part of the prize, they had received some "happy pills" as they had called them, which turned out to be Viagra. The anecdote had been amusing and somewhat embarrassing, and when they returned to the company, they told us the story with a mixture of laughter and embarrassment. Heeseung, put the pills in my bag because we were going to have another recording later and, of course, I completely forgot about them.

I stood there in the bathtub with my mind running at full speed, imagining how Jungwon could have taken the wrong pill. His sudden behavior made much more sense now.

My thoughts were abruptly interrupted when I felt Jungwon's fingers close to my chest. His touch was light, almost tantalizing, and provoked a mixture of sensations on my still sensitive skin. His fingers gently explored the area around my nipples, playing with the texture of my skin.

-Jungwon… -I murmured, my voice trembling slightly. As soon as he finished saying his name, his fingers latched onto one of my nipples, pinching it gently, but firmly enough to make me gasp and arch my body towards him. The pinch was so unexpected and stimulating that I couldn't help but let out a low moan, the sensation running from my chest to my core.

-Just one more round, noona.

And so, what started out as "one more round" turned into five.

The pill, as expected, had prolonged Jungwon's endurance beyond reason. I knew he already had remarkable stamina, but with the help of that pill, everything had reached an almost absurd level.

Finally, when we both left the room, the night had already progressed considerably. My body felt heavy and tired, every movement a conscious effort as I tried to stay awake. Exhaustion settled into every fiber of my being, and my muscles, still trembling and aching, resisted moving with the agility they used to.

Arriving in the kitchen, we found Heeseung, who was preparing a late-night snack. The kitchen was illuminated by a soft light that contrasted with the gloom of the night. Heeseung turned as he heard us enter, and his eyes lit up with a mixture of surprise and amusement.

-Aigooo! -he remarked in an almost fatherly tone, as if he were watching a child who had grown up too fast -Our Jungwonie is all grown up… -His words, sprinkled with a kind of playful condescension, were enough for me to understand that he knew exactly what had been going on. It made me smile despite the exhaustion I felt.

Despite the exhaustion that enveloped me, that joke and the knowing look in Heeseung's eyes made me feel a little lighter. Instead of responding with words, I decided to approach him. I moved slowly, feeling each step as an effort, and leaned toward him with a smile that reflected both exhaustion and gratitude.

When I was close enough, I dropped a soft kiss on his lips. I felt the warmth of his lips against mine and the light touch of his arm around my waist. Heeseung reciprocated the kiss with a smile that grew immediately, his eyes sparkling with a mixture of amusement and complicity.

When I broke away from the kiss, a sleepy smile crept across my face. The sensation of his warm lips against mine still lingered. I laughed softly before telling Heeseung what had happened.

Heeseung's laughter burst out, full of amusement and derision. His eyes sparkled with a spark of mischief and amusement as he listened to me, and he couldn't contain the laughter that followed my explanation. Heeseung's laughter was infectious, and despite my exhaustion, I couldn't help but laugh too.

Suddenly, I felt Jungwon's arms wrap around me from behind, his body against mine. He entwined his arms around my waist and buried his face in my neck with a mixture of embarrassment and regret. His breath was warm against my skin, and his moan, carried with it a note of pleading -Noona…

I turned slightly to look at Heeseung, who was still watching us with an amused smile on his face. I patted him gently on the arm, a gesture that was both an affectionate touch and a small warning.

Then, I walked over to him, and with a determined gesture, cupped his cheeks between my hands. I felt the smooth texture of his skin under my fingers, and the warmth of his face radiated into my palms. I looked into his eyes, trying to convey the seriousness of what I was about to say, despite the laughter still bubbling in my tone.

-Please don't win any 'happy pill' again

[yuwuta]

please feed us some yuuji blurbs there’s a lack of him rn :(

ofc… sweetest boy all time… here’s something was was meant to be a longer project but got lost in the editing whirlwind… love him so bad... 

NEVER LOST IN TRANSLATION, BECAUSE YOU KNOW WHAT I WANT 

notes: reader is implied to be american/english-speaking, yuuta and megumi are bilingual, yuuji, bless his soul, is not. i didn’t use italics for conversations between yuuji and megumi because it would all be in japanese, but when they get mixed later in the scene, japanese is differentiated with italics. hope that’s not too confusing lololll

Honestly, Yuuji tried his best in school. Some things came easier than other, but with a bit of hard work, and help from his friends, he always managed to pull pretty good grades. But right now, his biggest regret is not taking english more seriously in high school, because it’s been about three weeks since he met you, and he’s only been able to say maybe five full sentences to you without the help of Yuuta or Megumi translating. 

He was excited when Yuuta said his friend from abroad would be coming to visit and study, but god, he didn’t expect you to be so pretty. To have such pretty eyes, and pretty lips, and pretty hair, to have the prettiest voice in the world despite him only understanding every eighteenth word you say. You’re beautiful to him, and Yuuji thinks that even if he could speak your language fluently, the words would still get caught in his throat. He’s so lovesick, it’s embarrassing—his friends have been harping on him blushing and stuttering over you for the past month, and he can’t even blame them.

“What does she say to you when you guys talk,” Yuuji whines, hovering around Megumi, and not-so-discreetly looking back at you where you’re still sat in the living room laughing with Yuuta, “Does she ever say anything about me? I mean—probably not right? Which is fine! Actually, dont tell me—no, do. Or maybe—”

“She asks about you,” Megumi says, matter-of-fact in delivery, as he places a bag of popcorn in the microwave, but that doesn’t curb Yuuji’s enthusiasm. He’s practically bouncing, if he weren’t already—begging Megumi to spill the details, “What did she ask? Tell me! Tell me!” 

“She once asked if you dye your hair.”

“That’s it?!” Yuuji screams, heartbroken, and visibly deflating.

Megumi shrugs, “Yuuta probably knows more. She’s his exchange buddy friend thing, so ask him.”

“I can’t ask him, he’s right next to her!” Yuuji pouts, “Wait, what does ‘exchange buddy friend thing’ mean? You don’t think they’re more than friends, right…? I can’t blame her, senpai is really pretty, too, and he can actually talk to her… so unfair.” 

“You know, she’s not fluent, but she can understand some Japanese,” Megumi reminds him, “So, she can definitely hear you, and probably understand you.”

Yuuji’s shoulders slump, and once again, he turns around to look back at you. This time, you two make eye-contact, and that instant, Yuuji’s cheeks go pink, a nervous hand raised to wave at you, and instant internal regret at his actions; but, then you smile, and wave back, and Yuuji stays like that, dumbfounded and lovestruck and on autopilot as he waves with hearts in his eyes until Yuuta looks up from his phone and catches him.

Embarrassing. He knows he’s not the brightest, but he’s at a record high of self-embarrassment since he’s met you.

Yuuta finds himself chuckling when Yuuji spins around and goes back to prodding Megumi with questions. When you turn to face him again, it’s with a shy smile.

“I told you you’d like him,” Yuuta grins—the kind that seems sweet and innocent, but has just a kiss of that all-knowing tease to it; the kind that reminds you that he’s truly related to Satoru.

“Oh, be quiet,” you grumble, tucking your legs in and resting your chin on your knee. You spare another glance in Yuuji’s direction, for once, grateful for the language barrier between the two of you, when you turn back to Yuuta to proclaim: “I can like someone and not do anything about it. You’re real good at that, aren’t you?”

Yuuta’s slightly cocky grin falls into a scowl, and now you get to smile when he argues back, “We said not to bring up he who shall not be named in the presence of my friends!”

“Then don’t bring up my he who shall not be named in the presence of him!”

“Aren’t Americans all about forging new frontiers and chasing after your dreams?” he taunts, “Well, your dream is right in front of you.”

“My dream right now is to kill you.”

“Lucky for me, you’re going to have to hold off on that because your lover boy is approaching.”

You don’t have time to argue back with Yuuta when Megumi and Yuuji approach the living area with snacks in tow. Yuuta scoots to the tail end of the couch under the guise of giving Yuuji space to place the popcorn and nuggets in the center of the coffee table, but he has just enough time to flash you a wink before Yuuji settles in between. Megumi opts for the loveseat closets to Yuuta’s end of the couch, and you do your best not to reach over Yuuji and strangle Yuuta.

The boys decide on watching a movie you’ve never heard of, but Megumi reassures you it’ll be easy to follow and has English subtitles. You don’t mind, settling in to your corner of the couch with a handful of popcorn just as the title-screen for Human Earthworm 3 rolls across the TV.

You can follow along well-enough—even without subtitles, you get the gist of the movie. What you really find entertaining is Yuuji, who occasionally blurts out a comment or exclamation, or audibly coos whenever something sad is happening on screen. He’s almost as animated as the characters; you’re more of the silent-watcher type, but you find yourself endearing by this commentary, even if you can only understand parts of it.

You particularly appreciate the way that after every comment, he either motions to Megumi, or turns to you himself to repeat his thoughts in his best broken English, and even when you don’t understand his words, you understand him. His emotions are all on his sleeve: frustration, happiness, confusion, curiosity—communication between you two should be more difficult, but Yuuji makes it easy.

It gives you the confidence you cough out your own observation, “You, um… you’ve… seen the others? You seem to like this series.”

Across the room, Megumi and Yuuta hold their breaths, opting to not translate for you when you switch from Japanese to English. Yuuji is quiet for a moment, turned to face you with a slightly confused look on his face that makes you nervous, until his eyes brighten up and he smiles and begins nodding fervently—“Yeah—yeah, I do! It’s my… hm how do I say it… Oh! It’s my favorite!”

Between the smile on his face, the blush on his cheeks, and sincerity in his voice, you feel like you’re wrapped up in his world. It’s a little confusing, and scary, but it’s not all that bad. Maybe you can do something about it, eventually.

“I.. I think I like it, too.”

[olderthannetfic]

Now I'm wondering how countries like Japan and China teach literacy.

Since kanji / hanzi don't really have that much in the way of phonetic elements, they kinda have to teach them by memorization and I don't think they have many reading comprehension problems over there.

(Although both countries do have supplementary phonetic writing systems in the form of bopomofo and pinyin for China, and the kanas for Japan)

--

FAVORITE SOAPBOX TOPIC UNLOCKED!

RELEASE THE KRAKEN!

It's a little closer to teaching vocabulary than spelling, but the same kinds of principles apply: You teach the building blocks, like the traditional radicals, which aren't so different from teaching Latin and Greek roots in an English class for English speakers.

And, as a matter of fact, lots of those radicals do predict pronunciation, just not in every single case. They can also be clues to meaning, but again, not absolutely consistently. Many characters have a sound-cueing radical on one side and a meaning-cueing radical on the other. It's just that only some are still useful in the modern day, while others are more like the English word 'plumbing' where knowledge of Roman lead pipes explains why this word comes from the one for lead, but the root probably wouldn't help a kid learn the word in the first place.

One similarity to teaching phonics would be teaching students to tell very complicated and similar characters apart: you want to help a student spot all the little building blocks of the character and then spot the ones that are different, not just glance at the whole character and get a general overall vibe. If you do a whole look-based approach, too many characters are too easy to mistake for one another.

Remembering a bajillion Chinese characters is hard if you're trying to memorize them in a year and not all of elementary school, but I think people who don't read them underestimate how many component parts there are and how approachable they can be if you start by learning fundamentals, not just memorizing a few individual characters as though they have no relation to anything else.

They're actually pretty systematic, just in the way that English spelling is with its overlapping systems and historical artifacts, not in the way that highly regular Spanish spelling is.

Having taken a lot of Japanese classes, I will say that Japanese as a foreign language textbooks often do a piss poor job of this and totally do teach kanji in a sight words-y way... But my Mandarin class started with important foundational concepts that served me well in Japanese later even if I bombed out of Chinese class at the time.

Can you tell how irritated I am by all the foreign language learners who think characters are sooooo hard when, really, it's just their crappy textbook? Haha.

They're moderately hard in the way that learning a full adult spectrum of vocabulary is hard, but people do that for foreign languages all the time. The countries that use characters do tend to make sets that are smaller for certain kinds of applications, same as we have things like simple English wikipedia, but a literate adult will always know lots more, whether it's from their career in engineering or their predilection for historical romance novels.

Uh... anyway, the answer is "Bit by bit in elementary school, just like in any other country".

[fragiledewdrop]

WHERE NOW THE HORSE AND THE RIDER-Aka how I just had a Tolkien related freak out on the train

I can't believe what just happened to me. As in, it's such a weird chain of events that it has left me a little dizzy.

I was reading "Les Nourritures Terrestres" by Gide, and I got to a point he cites parts of a poem which I liked very much. The notes informed me that it's a French translation of "an 8th century saxon elegy called 'The Wanderer' "

That intrigued me, and, being on a train with a lot of time to pass (plus being a little tired of reading in French), I took out my phone and searched for the poem.

I found it here. It's the lament of a warrior in exile who has lost his lord and mourns the joy and glory of a world that has now disappeared. I was enjoying it a lot.

And then I got to this point:

And my mouth actually dropped open, because what?

Are you telling me that the Lament for the Rohirrim, one of my favourite poems in LOTR, which I learnt by heart at 13 and later took care to learn in the original English, which I sing when I do the dishes and which routinely makes me cry, is Tolkien's translation of an 8th century Saxon elegy?

Well, the notes at the end of the page confirmed it:

"Tolkien's rendition is hard to resist" I bet it is. I love that professional philologists add notes to their work saying "yeah, by the way, this bit here? It's in your favourite fantasy novel, and I am kinda jealous of how well it was translated, but it's Tolkien, the man spoke Old English, what can you do? Carry on, xoxo"

I mean, I had gathered that the Tolkien poem played on themes used in medieval literature, but I had no idea it was based on an actual, specific text. That makes it a hundred times cooler!

Maybe it's common knowledge, but it was a delicious tidbit of good news to me. Especially since I wasn't expecting it in the least, so I was blindsided by it.

Cherry on top? I had ignored the Old English text, since I don't understand it, but at the end I gave it a cursory read , and the line "Alas for the splendor of the prince"? "Eala þeodnes þrym!"

Now, I have never studied Old English, but I know roughly how to pronounce it (what kind of Silmarillion fan would I be if I didn’t recognize the thorn?). þeodnes has to be where "Theoden" comes from, right?

Apparently yes. I googled the "Lament for the Rohirrim", and Tolkien Gathaway has a nice little parapraph in which they explain all this. I don't know why I had never read it before, but it was a lot more fun learning it as an unexpected detour from my French practice, not gonna lie.

Bottom line: Tolkien was a both a nerd and a genius and continues to make my life brighter, and this is one of those moments in which I am very happy I have spent years of my life learning languages.

Thanks for coming to my impromptu TedTalk.

[decolonize-the-everything]

I think I saw somewhere that the alternative word for transandrophobia/transmisandry is anti-transmasculinity. It’s a term coined by a Black trans person to describe what you’re describing, if that helps at all? I just saw ur post that you wanna re-define or find a better word and I wanted to tell u that it exists! Was very relieving for me to like, discover it esp as a mixed race trans guy

That still aligns me with a gender and I don't want that, that's part of what I want to address actually.

I feel like I aligned myself with the masc term to begin with because women are pretty clear misogyny affects others, but others aren't allowed to center our experiences within it or define our oppression with it which is fine. Transmascs seemed okay with me using their term so I did.

It's just that in looking all this up, like I said I realized I needed a word that didn't align me with masculinity or femininity. I'm not oppressed for being a man or a woman or trans I'm oppressed for being none of it and insisting on it. There literally isn't a word for that experience, not in English.

I'm two spirit and I feel like I'd be just as uncomfortable if I transitioned as I am now tbh, I'm considering it hesitantly because of that. Perhaps the HRT I need just doesn't exist and I'm not smart enough to imagine what it is, idk.

I'm almost a trans man, but I'm not and not for a lack of dysphoria but because I don't think transitioning would help. I don't feel like a man, I'm not drawn to anything about manhood and likewise with womanhood. They're fun to dress up as sometimes, sure, but neither are my gender and neither are my ideal sex. It feels like I am both and also neither because the way they're understood is all wrong. I relate to both but would never identify as either one. I use nonbinary most often for that reason.

Two spirit means a mix/variety of spirits/energy rather than having just one. In this case the very rough English translation would be something like a mix of gendered traits like feminine and masculine (which can happen in Many ways). We were considered queer enough to target when colonizers started their pillaging; they didn't like us or our diversity, if that helps provide an image of how a two spirit could present and act within a community.

The adage goes cis people don't question their gender so I'm not that. And I would transition if I knew what magic (perhaps even impossible) combo would make me happy.

What is it to not be a woman, or (theoretically) trans but still experience systemic gender based oppression? Not just for rejecting femininity or masculinity, but for being something else?

We were grouped in with queer people for being definitely queer compared to the average cishet, but not all of us are trans and have genders easily categorized or understood through colonial language or structures.

But I also know a lot of two spirit people don't like the word queer and are more hesitant to use it because it doesn't encapsulate our experiences.

I want a word that does.

And I feel like "discrimination based on having a gender/sex outside the colonial binary" is a decent definition for the system I want to describe. I don't think that it erases anyone else's experiences either and is even inclusive of them, but please correct me if I'm wrong.

what do y'all think of that?

I'm thinking I'll have to make another word to label being actually affected by it.

[aethelwyneleigh27]

Cod Characters General Dating Headcanons (part three)

+ Random and Some bits of Chubby Fem S/O Headcanons with mentions of different nationality S/O

+ What type of BF/GF they would be

Including König, Kim "Horangi" Hong-jin, Keegan P. Russ, Philip Graves (+ some headcanons including the Shadows), Makarov

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

Fem terms and pronouns like she/her are used for the reader

ꕥ HOPE YOU ENJOY! ꕥ

My rules for requests and characters I can write for

A/n: I tried so hard to get this one out in time with the other but my other wips are getting to me 😭. I posted twice today just to feed y'all ahaha.

Disclaimers/warnings: Typical Cod things, OOC characters???, Unrealistic, Some suggestive themes and language, I'm so sorry but English is not my first language so please don't come after me. Most of the content I've seen are on TikTok and Tumblr I don't actually play the game but I love the characters so much, same with any other content I have for other video games.

Tiny sidenote: the reader in this has been describe to be shorter than the characters and has been mentioned to have a soft body rather than the muscular type.

König

ꕥ (PLEASE DON'T COME AFTER ME, I DON'T KNOW ANY GERMAN AND I'M USING GOOGLE TRANSLATE)

ꕥ Speaking of König, I don't think this man is the shy boy that some people is making him out to be (not that he doesn't have that side at all, I just feel like they make it his whole personality). Based on voice lines alone this man is cocky asf.

ꕥ There's a reason for his mask, yes he was bullied as a child because of his looks and that's one of the causes to his social anxiety but that doesn't mean this mf is shy. He just like to avoid people and social interactions yk. (Y'all have no idea how much I can relate to this)

ꕥ Has and will continue to use his height to his advantage, someone bothering you while you're both sat having a wonderful time together? This mf stands the fuck up, shoulders back, chest out and everything. Looming over that person while glaring down, arms crossed while they're engulfed by the shadow of this 6'10 behemoth of a man.

ꕥ Chubby!Reader? He'll throw you over his shoulders, only using one arm below your ass while he carries you off. Seriously it is no problem to this man, he'd beg you to sit on his face and suffocate him. If anything I'd say he has a preference for it yk, very soft and plush reader for real.

ꕥ Our DIY king here wearing a shirt for a hood, his hair sticking out of the hole for the head whenever he's dressing casual. Play with his hair like right now, you'll make him melt right then and there.

ꕥ Enjoys cuddling, hasn't had many partners and by that I mean kinda none. Nobody was insane enough to approach him till you came around so he's very touch starved. He didn't even know he enjoyed touching that much till he was able to feel the amount of warmth your body gives him. He'd swear on his life that he was intoxicated in that moment.

ꕥ Whenever you sit or straddle on his lap, he's still so fucking tall. I swear you will gain neck pains if you wanna keep eye contact while talking to him. (I understand the struggle, I am a 5'1 girly. Every character I know within the CoD universe is taller than me 😭)

ꕥ Doesn't actually wear his mask around you, he's comfortable and trust you enough to know you wouldn't go around telling everyone what he looks like.

ꕥ Nicknames he'd call you in German are Mein Schatz, Fräulein, Liebling, Engel and Kleine Maus

ꕥ He's still definitely bitter about not being a sniper. (AHAHAHA)

Kim "Horangi" Hong-jin

ꕥ (IF I'M BEING HONEST, I DID NOT EXPECT HIS VOICE TO BE THAT DEEP. ALSO HIS VOICE LINES IN KOREAN/HANGUL (IDK WHAT I'M TALKING ABOUT)

ꕥ He has doodles on his tactical gear that he did himself (there are also one that are a tribute to squid game because man's had a gambling addiction), has asked you to draw on it too and he proudly wears it when on duty. Will feel stupid while unconsciously smiling if you draw a heart.

ꕥ Writing something down on his vest from your own mother tongue and he's asking the meaning, if it's genuinely something good like a compliment or something like "I love you" then you will catch this man with a shit eating grin.

ꕥ He used to be a gambler before entering the military and it eventually got him to stop, though he still has a thing for risk, he got himself a more deadlier alternative.

ꕥ Expect surprise back hugs, this man isn't called Horangi for nothing. He's stealthy, I like to think that whatever he says to you is well thought out as well. Man knows how to think before he speaks.

ꕥ Horangi likes to pounce on things, just for the fun of it. It leads him to tackle you on your shared bed a lot, lots of play fighting too.

ꕥ HAS THE PRETTIEST EYES EVER. Like seriously, the only people who knows what he looks like is you and König. Had gentle eyes, you know that quote "His eyes softened", yeah that's the definition of his eyes.

ꕥ Loves it when you trace the veins on his arms with your finger nails, will just straight up offer his arm to you.

Keegan P. Russ

ꕥ This man and his panty dropping voice like holy hell I have never heard a voice as deep as his without a vocal fry (from those try hard guys on TikTok who try to hard thinking their thirst traps are good).

ꕥ Calls you "kid" in an affectionate way? It's honestly just what he calls anyone younger than him, you're shorter? He'll emphasize on that shit. Elaborating on the nickname I said earlier, he uses it less when y'all are dating but still does on some occasions.

ꕥ Would say the most dirty and uncalled for things, whispering it in your ears. He's and asshole in the best way possible, loves it when you gasp and playfully slap his chest.

ꕥ He's sweet though, would see you as his wife even if you're not married. You're his now, the moment you entered his life, he basically had a death grip on you.

ꕥ Something tells me that he likes talking about you or to you through radios yk. His voice sounding even deeper through the device, calling you doll even though he's supposed to refer to you with your call sign.

ꕥ Praise kink? I mean you've more likely heard his voice lines, is the type of man to praise you and ruffle your hair, either that or he'll kiss you depending on what stage of your relationship you are both in.

ꕥ Constantly thinks his eyes are weird even though they aren't, he just has sleepy eyes. Speaking of sleeping, I feel like he has such a fucked up sleeping schedule and is used to pulling all nighters more than the normal person.

ꕥ Will drag you in bed though and lay his whole weight on top of you because you ain't going nowhere, you are staying there with him and only him.

Philip Graves

ꕥ (If it isn't "Fix It Felix", please tell me I'm not the only one who sees it AHAHAHA)

ꕥ Philip is touchy, somebody for the love of everything that is holy cuddle this man please. He is just screaming at any type of physical contact at this point. (My sources? Right fucking here)

ꕥ Is the type of boyfriend to come home to you and just hug you, y'all would be there for a solid 10 minutes before he lets you go. Burying his head into your neck and just inhaling your scent while having his arms wrapped tightly around you.

ꕥ His Shadows? More like his fucking children, again going back to the TikTok. He knows how to get their attention, the little pats on the shoulder and small praises are his way of saying they did a good job and they're eating it up.

ꕥ That being said, you are either gonna be their mother figure or someone they enjoy protecting because their dad is so fond of you. Why not be both right?

ꕥ You cannot tell me this man won't be next to the grill, spatula, tongs or whatever kitchen utensil in one hand and a cold bottle of beer in the other.

ꕥ Spends his weekends with you on his lap while he watches football in your guys' couch, you're definitely scrolling on your phone during this.

ꕥ You cannot tell me this man doesn't wear cowboy hats and boots because he certainly does, is it a turn on or a turn off? I genuinely do not know..

ꕥ Is fruity on some aspects but would never fucking admit it..

Makarov

ꕥ Y'ALL ACTUALLY THOUGHT I'D WRITE FOR THIS MAN? NAH THIS ACC IS WHOLESOME (OR ANGSTY) AND ION THINK THIS MAN IS SALVAGEABLE. (This came from a girl who once was obsessed with Tom Riddle for years when she was 13, I recovered from it dw)

ꕥ This man would literally use anyone and anything as leverage for whatever he wants to achieve. (Yes I am one of those "I can fix him" people but damn idk if this man is fixable)

ꕥ Please don't tell me you actually genuinely think this man would be good to you.. I knew what I was writing was unrealistic but damn y'all are delulu on another level (so am I, stay delulu). Jokes aside I love y'all and he's one of the few I won't write for. (AHEM Severus Snape (that greasy mop haired mf)

ꕥ And yes I understand most of my shit are kind of OOC but damn if I wrote him, it would be extremely fucking far from canon and I don't like romanticizing toxic relationships (if I ever do write it, it will be angst and I can't ever promise a happy ending).

ꕥ Happy April fool's! (I know I'm posting this end of September (it's actually October now 😭)

[cheeeeseburger]

Do you dream of me? (cause you're a dream to me)

Fernando Alonso x Reader

Masterlist

A/N: They could never make me hate you, fake dating trope. English is not my first language, apologies for the mistakes!

As soon as Fernando opened the car door for you and you stepped out, all dolled up, cameras flashed everywhere. This was a part of being Fernando’s girlfriend that you were still getting used to. Actually, you weren’t used to any things related to dating him, since in reality, you were not really together.

Fernando had asked you to be his fake girlfriend two months ago. Initially, you just laughed at him, but he was not kidding at all. He wanted to work on his PR, and a good romance story always does the trick, right?

“Please, just think about it. I’m not crazy! It would only be for show. It would be fake dating.” You were impressed at his romcom knowledge. He definitely knew the literature, to use words like fake dating. Still, that was not enough to convince you.

The thing is, Fernando was your boss. You had been his assistant for over two years now, and he knew you were single and available. Saying no to his proposal would put you in a difficult situation. It’s not like the whole fake dating thing would only benefit him, though. The more you thought about it, the more you wanted to accept.

“You would only have to come to a few events with me, which you already come to as my assistant! You would just have to pretend we’re together. Of course, you would receive compensation for your services.” Fernando said. He did not get why you suddenly gasped.

“I was about to say yes, but I’m not a hooker or an escort, Fernando! How dare you suggest these things to me?” Frankly, you were insulted. He answered immediately, panicked: “No, that’s not what I meant, of course not! I just meant that since you’re going to, um, work extra, I will pay you more, that’s all. You’re too much of a good girl for all of that, anyway.”

Goddamn. You blushed intensely. You would definitely be a good girl for him, if you were actually dating. Oops.

“Wait, didn’t you say you were going to say yes?” Damn him for actually listening to you.

You blushed a little: “I mean, it’s just that I have, let’s say, a situation, that could be fixed if we publicly dated…” You looked away, embarrassed.

“What is it, muñeca?” He genuinely looked concerned for you. He really was a caring boss, huh?

“It’s just that, um, there’s this guy…” You did not want to continue the rest of the sentence. You were the colour of a ripe tomato.

“And you want to make him jealous?” He raised an eyebrow. Oh wow. Has he watched Anyone But You on a flight recently or something?

“Oh God no, absolutely not! It’s the opposite, really. I went on one date with him, and he can’t get a hint. He always comes tries to talk to me, even though I told him multiple times that I was no longer interested. He’s an engineer at Ferrari, so he’s always around. It’s getting scary.” Telling your boss your horror dating stories was really, really embarrassing.

“What? That’s not okay!” He looked pissed. “Muñeca, this is not right. You should have told me. I could have fixed the issue. I would have helped you.”

You flushed. It was cute to see your boss so worried about you. “Anyway, that’s why I’m tempted to say yes to be your fake girlfriend. Maybe that other guy will back off.”

“I didn’t know you went on dates. You’re always busy helping me.” He crossed his arms on his chest.

“Well, he’s always around since he works in F1. He just asked me out and I said yes.” You were avoiding his gaze, afraid of being in trouble for some reason.

“Why didn’t it work out?” Ok, now you were definitely looking everywhere but at him. The real reason was too humiliating too say out loud. Why did he care anyway?

“It’s not a big deal, don’t worry about it.” He noticed you were mortified but did not pick up on it. You sighed: “I think we should do it. But I’m still going to have my job after, right?”

“Of course, muñeca. You’re too essential in my life for me to let you go.” Apparently, he was not above flattery to convince you. Apparently, flattery was a great way to bribe you.

“It’s a deal, then.” You shook Fernando’s hand. You immediately shivered at his touch.

“You’re mi amorcito now.”

Oh God. What did you get yourself into?

Anyway, you felt Fernando’s hand on your back, softly guiding you towards the entrance of the party at a high-end hotel. As usual when there were cameras around, you put on a show. Your performance was Oscar worthy. He spun you around so people could admire your look. You blew him a kiss. You leaned on him while he put an arm around you. He kissed the top of your head, and you whispered in his ear.

“I think we’ve really fooled them.”

“It’s good, but it’s only the beginning. I’m not done with you, muñeca.”

To anybody on the outside, you two looked like the hot, exciting, and loving couple of the moment. Sometimes, it looked that way to you too. It was hard to remember that this was not real when he kissed you, or when you were in his arms, or just when you were with him in general. Playing pretend with him was so easy. It was fun, even. You were getting showered in gifts and kisses by your boss, who just happens to be a man you find really attractive. You could have done worst for a side hustle, right?

The media was having a field day with your relationship. Some thought the age gap was a bit weird, but most people just thought that it was cute that Alonso fell in love with his assistant. You had even seen a TikTok edit of you two. You looked hot in it, so that was nice. You were the it WAG of the moment.

The other drivers were also freaking out that Alonso, a long-time bachelor, had finally met his match. You had to act extra lovingly in front of them, just to prove to them that he had finally settled. Also, Fernando just liked to show off a pretty young thing like you in his arms, because the rest of the grid was definitely jealous.

You made you way inside, making sure to always close the gap between you and Fernando. You were constantly flushed, because him touching you did wonders for your nerves. Small talk was hard, but it was even more difficult to do with his arm around your waist. You pulled on his arm.

“Fernando, baby, I need a drink.” The word baby slipped off a little too casually for your liking. He seemed to like it though, because you felt his possessive grip at the nickname. He smiled, pleased.

“Alright, amorcito. What do you want?” He led you to the bar, the crowd letting him pass easily. This was another advantage of dating an F1 driver. Also, he always paid for all your drinks, which is an added bonus, right? You needed a drink to survive the night anyway.

“I want to get drunk. Not passed out drunk, but drunk enough that there is a risk that I will get up to dance on a table.” He laughed at that, and you smiled him. The urge to kiss him was strong. Technically, you could do it, since you were in a public place with people watching your every movement. So far, you had always let him kiss you first, because you were simply too shy. Anytime you felt his lips on yours, forgetting that this was not real was way too easy.

“I would want to see that, muñeca.” The music was loud, and he spoke in your ear. You shivered. Oh yes, more than one drink would be needed. “I’ll have a whiskey sour, and a cosmo for the lady,” Fernando said at the bartender. It was cute that he remembered your drink of choice. But you needed more than a Cosmo to ease your nerves right now. Forget about being classy.

“I’ll have three tequila shots as well, please.” You nearly had to shout for the bartender to hear you. Fernando looked surprised.

“You were not kidding, huh?”

“I won’t embarrass you by being too drunk, I swear. But it’s just that there are so many people here, and I’m kind of nervous.” He put your hand in his and started to draw circles on it with his thumb.

“It’s okay, mi armorcito. These people are not important. The only thing that matters is you and me. I want you to have a good time, muñeca.” You softened at his words. Even though you had not gotten you shots yet, you managed to have enough courage to finally kiss him. He was surprised at first, but he quickly recovered and pulled you closer to him. You pulled away, blushing, but only because the bartender put your drinks in front of you. He smiled at you and his gaze lingered on your mouth.

You drank your shots back-to-back without even making a face. “That’s a good girl,” said Fernando, sipping his whiskey. He knew what he was doing. The alcohol hadn’t even kicked in yet, but you were feeling bolder already.

“Are you into good girls, boss?” You drank innocently from your Cosmo, batting your eyelashes. It was his turn to get flushed. Maybe he had a thing for authority?

“When they look like you, sure. And you’re always so good to me, taking care of my every need. Well, almost.” He winked at you. Surely, the few sips of his drink were not enough to get him to say things like that purely because of the alcohol. Was this really coming from him? It was a delicious thought, almost as delicious as your Cosmo.

“I know this is fake, but baby, if it wasn’t, I would fulfill your every needs. And I mean, all your needs, boss.” You put your hand on his arm to really send the message. The tequila had finally hit your system. His desire for you was obvious in his eyes.

“Amorcito, you would be my favourite assistant of all time, for sure. I would never let you go.” He pulled you close to him, with his hands around your waist. He was looking at you so intensely that it almost felt like love.

You let yourself daydream. “Nobody could say a thing, because pleasing your boss is the goal of being an assistant, right?”

“Exactly, muñeca. But since they don’t know that this is fake, they couldn’t say anything if, let say, they caught us?” He smirked at you, softly brushing the loose stands of hair away from your face

Oh, you knew were this was getting, but the alcohol in your blood and his handsome face were telling you to go along.

“Absolutely, baby. I bet you’d like it, too.” You finished your drink and ordered another shot.

“What, if we were caught?” He nearly choked out his whiskey sour.

“Yeah. Wouldn’t you like it if someone was to walk in on you having me on your desk? If people heard me screaming your name?” The look on his face was priceless. Toying with him was fun. 

He leaned to whisper in your ear: “Don’t give me ideas, amorcito.” He lingered there for a moment, breathing against your neck. You were breathing rapidly. If you only tilted your head a bit, your lips would be near his. It was tempting, so you did it. As he went in for the kiss, you suddenly pulled away, then downed your last shot. You were not done playing with him.

“I want to dance. Come on!” You pulled on his arm, and Fernando had no choice but to follow you on the dance floor.

。。+゜゜。。+゜゜。。+゜゜。。+゜゜。。+゜゜。。+゜゜。。+゜

He was a surprisingly a good dancer. It must be the Spanish in him. He made you feel hot all over. You left the dancefloor feeling very turned on and with a few new hickeys on your neck as a bonus. This happened all the time in fake dating movies, right? You had not broken any rule.

Fernand pulled you to the bar to get something to drink. Things were not PG anymore. His hand was on your ass to guide you instead of on your waist like it was earlier.

“Do you want another Cosmo, muñeca?” You shook your head.

“No baby, I want to get a special treat. Can I please have a sex on the beach?”

He raised an eyebrow at your request, but he still passed it along to the bartender with another whiskey for him. He was not nearly as drunk as you were, so he had no excuse regarding crossing the line between what is real and what is fake.

“You know, amorcito, I could give you the real thing,” he said to you as he passed you your drink.

“What, sex on the beach? I already did that,” you answered, laughing. He looked positively shocked.

“An innocent girl like you? I don’t believe it.” He also didn’t want it to be true.

You smirked. “You remember that the reason I accepted to date you was to get rid of a guy that was like, obsessed with me?” He nodded, wanting to hear where this was going.

“Well, the reason why he can’t get enough of me is because I rocked his world on a beach!” You looked away, embarrassed even with all the alcohol you had consumed. He put his hand under your chin to force you to look at him.

“Muñeca, is this for real? That’s why he won’t leave you alone? He was not happy.

“Yes! But I don’t want anything to do with this guy. He didn’t even make me finish,” you whined. Fernando brushed your lower lip with his thumb. Somehow, you just knew that if it was him instead of that engineer, you would have come. Multiple times, for sure.

“Poor amorito.” He caressed your hair with his free hand. “You know I would never do that to you, right?” You chuckled lightly.

“Oh, I know.” You whispered in his ear: “I had a sex dream about you once.” This was a lie. You had multiple dreams where he had rocked your world. In multiple ways.

You started to give him a few kisses underneath his ear, in that spot that you knew he liked. He grabbed your ass to bring you closer to him.

“What? Amorcito, you must tell me how it was.” He was getting overwhelmed by your confession and the trail of kisses you left on his neck. You just laughed against his throat.

“Baby, I don’t dream and tell.” First of all, you could not believe you had actually told him you dreamed of him. No way in hell would you reveal the fantasy you had of him. He was still your boss!

But Fernando really, really wanted to know. He spun you so your back was against the bar and held you by your wrists. He got centimeters away from your face. “You will this time, muñeca.”

Ok, so he was not playing around anymore. Does the fact that this was the hottest thing you had ever seen in your life says a lot about you? About your relationship with your dad?

“You have to promise me you won’t mock me, okay?” You were suddenly shy. Maybe you should have ordered another sex on the beach. Wait, no. All of this started because of a stupid sex on the beach. A tequila sunrise would have to do next time.

He kissed your cheek and slowly moved to your jaw. “I promise, amorcito. Just tell me, please. I have to know.” A man begging was always a sight to see.

“Okay, baby. I’ll tell you.” Just thinking about it made you feel hot all over. “In my dream, we were in Monaco. You had parked your car, the green Aston Martin, and… You were fucking me against it. But I mean, really fucking me.” You were blushing, but he was the one who had turned scarlet. You continued: “Remember, this is a dream, okay? A paparazzi took a picture of you, um, having me against your car, and it was all over the medias. But we didn’t care, in fact, you printed and framed the picture, and you hung it in your living room in Monaco. And we fucked again in front of it. That’s it.”

Okay, that wasn’t so bad. Your face was heating up, and you were worried since Fernando hadn’t said anything yet. Had you gone too far? You could always blame it on the alcohol. One thing for sure, you had definitely crossed the line of fake dating.

“Eres el sueño de mi vida, amorcito.” Fernando pulled you close to his body to lead you to a dark corner of the room. He pushed you against the wall and he was immediately all over you. You couldn’t help but moan when you felt him palming you.

“Fernando, baby, is this still us fake dating?” He answered between two hickeys on your neck.

“None of this is fake, muñeca. It never was.” His lips crashed on yours. It just felt so good to really have him, without pretending. You had to remember you were in a public place, otherwise your dress would have been on the floor ages ago.

“I swear I’m going to start screaming your name soon, baby. I need you so bad. Can we please go back to the hotel?” He smiled at your eagerness.

“As much as I would like everyone to hear you, including the other drivers, I think we better leave, amorcito.” He reluctantly pulled away to grab your hand.

“Don’t worry baby, the Monaco GP is in two weeks, everyone will hear me and see me screaming your name there,” You winked at him and pulled him outside of the party.

You clearly had an eye for design, because the picture of you two really did look great in the apartment you shared in Monaco.

[fluffytriceratops]

𝐈 𝐁𝐮𝐫𝐧 𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐘𝐨𝐮 - 𝐑𝐚𝐩𝐡𝐚𝐞𝐥 [𝐛𝐚𝐲𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐞]

notes: part one? will probably make a very spicy part two- hehe. ;) if you know, you know. also- i imagine y/n as english here, but that's literally just me lol. there's no real hint or anything saying that she is or isn't. :D also also, i want raphael to choke me like he hates me but he loves me. :P

warnings: mature language/swearing,

tags: @thelaundrybitch @turtle-babe83 @leosgirl82 @rheawritesforfun @s-s-ironnie @post-apocalyptic-daydream @mysticboombox @drowninghell @lec743 @raphielover  @raphslovemuffin80 @squirrelfurs @bibiz82 @pheradream-15 @kikithedreamerwriter @m1dnyt3-w0lf @scholastic-dragon @moonsua1 [if i've forgotten anyone i'm so sorry please comment or dm me and let me know and i'll add you right away so i don't forget in the future!]

(if you would like to be tagged in my future tmnt x reader related work, feel free to let me know and i'll happily add you!)

i love you all sm! i'm sending all the virtual hugs and well wishes to you!! <33

---

She didn't understand what she had done. From the moment she met him, Raphael acted as though he hated her. Y/n was for at a loss. No matter what she did or said, there was always this wall between them. After a while of trying to befriend him, she eventually gave up. If he did not want to be friends, then so be it. She would spend her time with his brothers.

But that only seemed to make matters worse.

It was terribly confusing and Y/n didn't know if she could take much more of it.

She had tried so hard to please him. And despite all her efforts he pushed her away. Treated her as if she was nothing. So she turned to her actual friends, and that only seemed to anger him more. Did he not want her around at all? Did he not trust her with his family?

The thing that was the most frustrating, was the fact that no matter how hard she tried. She couldn't get rid of her love for him.

---

It wasn't as if he hated her. In fact, it was the exact opposite. Raphael had a hard time expressing his feelings. He had an even harder time when he believed that those feelings weren't reciprocated.

Y/n was beautiful. She was as sweet as honey with warm skin as soft as silk. Her eyes shone when she laughed. She always wore this lip gloss that made her lips the perfect shade of pink. And she smelled amazing. Like vanilla and cedar. A warm and comforting scent.

There was no way she liked him as much as he liked her. Raphael was so certain of this. So he did the only logical thing he could think of.

He pushed her away.

Because he knew he would never be able to love her. And being in the same room as her, knowing she would never be his, was excruciating.

The only thing he could think of doing was keeping his distance. Which was hard when she was always approaching him. So he avoided her like the plague.

That didn't mean that he didn't get jealous.

---

How could he act like he knew her? He didn't know her at all! Raphael was like a stranger to her! The only things she's learned of him was from his brothers. And even if they had been telling him about her, it wasn't the same. Her gaze narrowed at him. "I'm sorry? Can you repeat that please, because I don't think I heard you right."

Raphael gazed at Y/n from across the room. He was leaning against the wall, arms folded over his chest, biceps bulging. (she would have been drooling if he wasn't such an ass-) He moved his toothpick to the other side of his mouth with his tongue. Head tilting ever so slightly as he studied her.

"I said, that your actions don't surprise me. Figures someone as pristine and conceded as you would do somethin' like that." He didn't skip a beat. Didn't hesitate with his comment. Even if it was uncalled for.

Y/n blinked. It was almost worse hearing it for a second time. It made her angrier, at least. She was absolutely gobsmacked. Surprised he had the balls to make such an assumption and voice it so simply.

Raphael pushed himself off of the wall and stalked towards her. "Cat got your tongue, princess?" His lips twisted up into a smirk as he loomed over her. Staring down at her with his eyes made of gold.

Leonardo, who she had been talking to moments before- opened his mouth to intervene, but Y/n cut him off before he got the chance.

"You have no right to make any sort of assumptions about me."

Raph hummed, "Ain't assumptions if they're true."

Y/ns gaze hardened, her hands balling at her sides. "You clearly don't know me at all."

"I think I know ya well enough."

"And I think you're an ass!" She snapped, face red with anger. "If you have any other false assertions about me, I'd rather you kept your mouth shut!"

"And I'd rather you not be here at all!" He growled in return. Golden gaze burning down upon her like fire. "You're always around! Do ya not have anywhere else to be!? Any other friends besides us!?"

"You aren't my friend!" Y/n's eyes stung with tears, and she did her best to hold herself together.

"Thank fuck for that!"

"Raph, enough!" Leo seperated the two by physically putting himself between them. His ocean eyes were glued to his brother. "Take a walk." He demanded, nodding in the direction of one of the sewer tunnels.

Raphael's veins burned. He hated the sight of Leo coming to the rescue. Because of fucking course he did. It was always the wise and powerful Leonardo guiding them through their problems. He would have fought more. Pushed back harder. Let his anger consume him. But his gaze caught the sight of tears trickling down Y/n's face. Like stars falling from the sky. His heart ached and squeezed. He wanted to drop to the floor and beg for her forgiveness. Kiss her feet and worship the ground she walked on.

Y/n was a moon goddess. Made of pure starlight.

And Raphael was a brutish soldier, stuck on Earth while he watched her dance with the stars.

It was better if she hated him. It made things easier that way, he reminded himself.

Raphael didn't say anything else. He simply turned around and walked away. Afraid that if he stayed a second longer, he'd do one of two things.

Beg for the goddess' forgiveness.

Or break her.

---

Leonardo let out a heavy sigh before turning to face the h/c haired girl. "Are you okay?" He asked, planting his large hands atop her shoulders. They covered them entirely, showing just how much bigger they all were than her.

Y/n nodded, reaching up to wipe at her eyes quickly. It felt like Raphael had attacked her out of nowhere. It wasn't like she was doing anything besides talking to Leo. (Okay, maybe she had been flirting with him a little bit, but could you really blame her? Have you seen the guy, he's fine as hell-) It felt unwarranted. She didn't feel like she deserved his hate, but no matter what she did, he always seemed hostile towards her.

Leo didn't look convinced. "You sure?"

Y/n let out a quiet sigh. "Yeah.. Is it okay if I just go and finish my book in your room?" She reached towards the couch and grabbed it, clutching it to her chest.

"Of course. No one will disturb you there."

She forced a small smile. "Great. Thanks, Leo."

"Anytime, Y/n."

Leonardo watched as she padded away in the direction of his bedroom. Lips pressed into a thin line. He turned and moved in the direction Raphael went in. He wasn't surprised to find him in the dojo, absolutely wrecking the punching bag.

"Raph."

Said male glanced in his direction for a split second, grunting in acknowledgment.

"What the hell was that?" Leo gestured behind him, blue eyes hardening into a stern glare.

Raphael clicked his tongue in annoyance. "Nothin'. Just leave it alone, Leo." He continued to slam his fists upon the bag, watching it jolt and sway with each lethal hit.

"Y/n doesn't deserve the shit you give her. If you gave her a chance, maybe you would see that. She's a nice girl, she's our friend. You need to give her an apology."

Normally, Raphael would have fought with Leo. Arguing with him to the point where their verbal hits would turn into physical ones. But his motions stilled at this. He knew Leo was right, as much as he didn't want to admit it. He hated seeing Y/n look at him like that. With wide teary eyes and a wobbling lip. Staring at him like the ferocious monster he was.

Before either of them could say anything else, Mikey popped his head in the room. "Hey guys, dinner's ready!"

Leo nodded and turned back to Raph. "Go tell Y/n dinner's ready. You can apologize whilst you're at it." He didn't leave room for argument as he left the dojo. 

Leaving Raphael looming next to the punching bag. He lifted his arm and hit it once more. That was the final blow, the bag snapped off the chain and smashed against the ground. It's contents pouring out.

He'd have to try and fix it later.

---

Y/n sat on Leonardo's bed. Back pressed against the wall and chin propped up on her palm. One of her favourite books sat open on her lap and she read it contentedly. She did her best not to think about Raphael and his actions and words. How he was so distant and vile towards her. She had done nothing but be kind to him. To try and have a decent relationship with him. But he refused to have even a decent relationship with her. It was beyond frustrating. It made her want to rip her hair out. 

She let out a long slow sigh, tilting her head back till it hit the wall and she was looking up at the ceiling. Her mind was a mess, and while she had told Mikey she would stay for dinner earlier, now she was regretting her choice. She contemplated trying to sneak out. But that was near impossible when the lair was full of trained ninjas. Y/n couldn't sneak past them no matter how hard she tried. 

There was a rap of knuckles on the door. She assumed it was Leo, or perhaps Donnie. Mikey would just barge in, and she highly doubted she'd see Raph for a good long while yet. 

She pushed herself up and went towards the door. Yanking it open, but whatever she was about to say died on her tongue. Lips parted and throat dry. She couldn't say anything as she gazed at the mutant in front of her.  Y/n stepped back from Raphael, studying him with an intense gaze silently. Being unable to find any words to speak. 

Raph cleared his throat. "Leo sent me to get you for dinner."

Y/n dropped her gaze with a heavy sigh and turned away from him, shaking her head in disappointment. She was hoping for an apology, or something along those lines. She wanted him so bad but it felt like he was miles away. 

"Y/n?" Raph stepped further into the room, looking at her in confusion. "Are you not hungry?"

"I do not want any dinner!" Y/n spat angrily, running a hand through her hair in agitation.

Raph looked taken aback by her outburst. But he stayed silent, allowing her to take in a couple deep breaths and try to calm herself down. He understood anger better than most. And Y/n had every right to be angry with him. 

Finally, she turned to him. "I have spent so much time wanting to be alone with you. Wanting to talk to you! Wanting to know -" she cut herself off with a sharp inhale, dropping her gaze to the floor. Cheeks warm and tips of her ears dusted in red.

She shook her head again. "I understand that you do not wish to see me... That you would prefer to stay in any other room-"

"That's not true." He cut her off quickly. Molten gold gaze staring at her. Piercing her soul. 

Y/n brought her eyes back up to him. Not believing his words. "Raphael-"

"You're wrong." He said again. Voice sharp.

Still, Y/n did not believe him. "You have avoided my presence." She stated, quite simply. It was a fact. Raphael could barley stand to be in the same room as Y/n, let alone hang around just the two of them.

"In order to give you space." He muttered, swallowing thickly. She watched the way his throat bobbed with the action. 

Y/n's eyebrows dipped in confusion. "You've.. Said all but a few words to me."

"To stop myself from sayin' the wrongs things." He said, taking a step towards her. Raph wet his lips with his tongue, not missing the way her eyes followed the action. His heart pounded at the sight alone. He had caught himself staring at her eyes many times, so to find hers glued to his - she had no idea the kind of chokehold she had on him.

Y/n stared at him in disbelief. "You've barley been able to look at me in the eye."

"Because I can't stand to see the misery I have caused you!" He snapped, clearly agitated. Pacing back and forth in front of her. Like a caged animal. Skin crawling at the way she watched him. Those eyes of hers... They were paralyzing. In the best way possible.

"You did not..." She whispered, hesitantly taking a single step forwards. "I am the one who has trapped you in your own home. I should have been more understanding of your space-" 

"I'm the one who trapped you." Raph cut her off, growling out the words. "I have spent the last few weeks in agony." He admitted, glancing over towards her for only a second before he resumed his pacing. "Unable to talk to you. Unable to be alone with you because I knew you wanted nothing to do with me." 

Y/n opened her mouth to protest but he continued. "Which makes sense, I mean look at me! I'm fucking scary. I'm a freak. I have a bad temper, it ain't pretty when I'm angry. I get jealous and envious easily and I'm not the best with emotions. I'm not the best guy, my brothers are ten times better than I will ever be." 

"Raph-" 

"I see the way you look at them. I see how much you care for them. Leo especially. He's the hero. I'm the villain. That's how it's always been, that's how it always will be. If yer gonna love any of us, it's understandable that it would be him." His shoulders sunk, and he finally stopped pacing but had yet to fully turn towards Y/n. His chest was heaving with much needed air after the amount of word vomit he had spewed. 

"Leo's your perfect love match..." 

"You're right in the sense that you and Leo are different. You cannot be anymore different. You're practically polar opposites." She breathed, studying him carefully. Heart aching from the words he spoke. "But who said I ever wanted Leo..." 

Raphael slowly looked towards her. Eyes boring into her own, trying to see if she was telling the truth or not. Trying to understand the meaning behind her words. 

He was silent for what felt like a long time. They both were. The silence was thick, suffocating. They both had so much they wanted to say but neither of them had the courage to say it. 

"I can't stop thinking of you," Raph started softly, "From the mornings when I wake up, to the evenings right before bed. To the dreams I have of you.. My thoughts of you never end." His hands shook ever so slightly and he balled them into fists to control it. 

"I am yours, Y/n. I have always been yours." 

Y/n took in a heavy breath, chest rising as she sucked the air into her lungs. "I.." Her eyebrows dipped again as she tried to comprehend his words. Was he saying what she thought he was? "I don't understand.." 

Raphael shook his head in frustration, "I don't know how to be anymore clear." He huffed, lifting his arms up and turning away from her. 

Y/n's gaze hardened and she moved towards him. "Do not get angry-" 

"I am not angry!" He snapped. 

"You look angry. And bothered. Look at you, you're all flushed." She gestured towards him and Raph grit his teeth, face warm in embarrassment. 

"Yes, that is what happens." 

"When one is angry." 

"When one burns for someone who does not feel the same!" Raphael hissed, closing the distance between them. Towering over her. He lifted a hand and ran it down his face, biting down on his lip.

"You.." Y/n could not bring herself to look away from him. "You burn for me?" 

"Why do you think I got angry at you for flirting with Leo?" 

"Why do you think I was flirting with Leo?" 

Raph seemed confused by this, brows pulling together. "If you even bothered to look at me, really look at me. For longer than two seconds.. You would have seen.." What small bit of distance left between them she closed by taking a final step forward.

 "I burn for you." 

[matchpointfaist]

400 lux - art donaldson

cw; sexual content, drinking, language?? (if this is bad no one tell me!)

;; art and reader if he never met tashi 

;we’re never done with killing time, can i kill it with you, till the veins run red and blue? we come around here all the time, got a lot to not do, let me kill it with you 

you met art donaldson at the stanford class of 2010 mixer. you knew him by then, of course, everyone did. he was art donaldson, six time grand slam champion and french open winner. in contrast, you were an english major with no real interest in tennis at all. your singular interest in the sport was art himself, despite not knowing him, you knew he was the most beautiful angelic man you had ever laid your eyes on. it almost seemed like this entire mixer was made for him, the way everyone crowded around. eager to see the tennis prodigy in his prime, eighteen and sipping wine coolers and smiling politely. he was all blonde hair and red cheeks and, “yeah, thank you for having me!” that first night. 

you hovered around the tables, sipping shirley temples and keeping to yourself. you noticed art slowly getting closer to the table you’d been occupying, making his way through the room. his blue eyes met yours and you quickly averted your gaze, desperate to avoid conversation. two minutes later, he stood in front of you, lazy smile on his face. “you enjoying this corner by yourself?” he asked, his tone light and slightly sarcastic. “yes, actually. i’m not a fan of crowds,” you replied. “i can relate to that. art donaldson,” he outstretched his hand to you, “and you are?” you told him your name, your cheeks heating as you shook his hand, “i know who you are. everybody here does.” “yeah, seems that way. do you play?” “oh, no. english major.” “ah, okay. so you’re a writer?” “aspiring, yes. hoping this will get me closer,” you said, feeling yourself slowly loosen up with the conversation. “i’m sure it will,” he smiled, and you wondered how a stranger could have blind confidence in you, “well, would you maybe want to get out of here for a minute? it’s stuffy and i need a smoke.” you tried not to let the surprise show on your face and nodded, “sure, i have a lighter in my bag.” 

you and art sat on the balcony, a cigarette between his lips and his beer in your hand. “so, why stanford? why not go pro?” you asked. “wanted to be good for something else, i guess. not just hitting a ball with a racket, you know? not that there’s anything wrong with that, my best friend went pro straight away, just not for me i guess.”

“patrick, right? your friend?” “yeah, patrick. he’s more of a career player, more confident. he’ll stay pro while i’m here playing.” “i can see you as a career player,” art’s face reddened slightly at that, “i mean, you’re already winning every match, right?” “well, most of them. it’s more than that though, you have to have the stamina to keep it up until your body can’t anymore. and i just don’t have that,” he said. his face looked twisted with an emotion you couldn’t place, but he kept his tone light and let out a quiet laugh. “well, you don’t have to do something forever to be good at it right now. just like you don’t have to win every game to be good,” “i disagree with the second part, but thank you, really. not everyday someone tries to relieve pressure for me.”

“i can imagine it’s not easy, being the art donaldson and all,” you smiled. “oh god, the art donaldson,” he laughed, rolling his eyes playfully. you shivered, the sudden breeze prickling your skin. “are you cold?” he asked, and when you looked over he already had his blazer halfway off. “no, no i’m okay! just a little chilly out here,” you protested, but he slid the jacket off entirely and handed it to you. your cheeks grew hot once again, and you hesitantly wrapped it around your shoulders. “you’re gonna get cold now,” you said guiltily. “no, i’m alright. at least i have long sleeves.” you regretted the strapless dress now, feeling silly for not taking the cool evening breeze into account when getting dressed. “it is getting late,” art sighed, “we’ve been out here for a while.” you glanced over at his watch, reading 1 am on the face. “oh jesus. i’m sorry i kept you out so late. let me take you home?” he asked. you bit your lip, anxious at the thought of being alone with him in his car, despite being alone with him for hours now. “sure,” you smiled. neither of you were ready to let the night end, anyway.

;you pick me up and take me home again, head out the window again. we’re hollow like the bottles that we drain. you drape your wrists over the steering wheel, pulses can drive from here, we might be hollow but we’re brave

you sat in the passenger seat of art’s jeep, your eyesight slightly fuzzy from the drinks you finished off before leaving the balcony. he was a vision of beauty in the glow of the passing streetlights, his wrists draped lazily over the steering wheel. radiohead played quietly from the car speakers, and you couldn’t hold back your surprise. “didn’t take you for a radiohead kinda guy,” you said, leaning over to turn the volume up slightly. “yeah, patrick got me into them,” he shrugged, looking over at you, “do you want the windows down? it’s stuffy.” “ooh, yes please.” he rolled down the front windows and opened up the sunroof, and you sighed with relief when you felt the breeze in your hair. you sat up, sticking your hands out the sunroof and laughing.

“this is so cool, i wish my car had one of these,” you said, raising your voice over the wind. “you’re beautiful,” art said from below you, and your face instantly grew hot as you sat back in your seat. “well, thank you,” you said, unable to look at him. “sorry, i just had to tell you, i didn’t mean for it to come out so fast,” he rambled, a passing light revealing he was also blushing. “no no, it’s okay! i just don’t know what to say, but i appreciate it, thank you,” you replied, subconsciously playing with your hair. “you’re the first, like, real person i’ve talked to at all these bullshit mixers. everybody else is just kissing up or asking me the same five questions about tennis and patrick and tashi.” your eyebrows raised at tashi’s name, having forgotten about her. “were you and her, i mean not to be rude, but i heard she was your girlfriend,” “oh, no. she’s patrick’s girlfriend, we’re just all friends. we met at one of tashi’s adidas events a few months back. i’ve heard the rumors though.” “oh, okay. well you’re also one of the only real people i’ve met since i even started my interviews here. i like that,” you smiled appreciatively, “oh, and you can turn up here. it’s the marriott on the right.” “you didn’t tell me you were staying in a hotel. have you not moved down yet?” “well, i just can’t really afford to rent so i’ve just been driving down and staying the night for the events until the dorms open. kinda embarrassing,” you explained, your face hot.

“i don’t think its embarrassing, stuff happens. you could stay in my extra room, if you wanted. so you don’t have to leave early in the morning for check out,” he said. “oh, i couldn’t. it’s okay, i promise. me and this marriott have gotten pretty well acquainted,” you joked, still freshly embarrassed. “i really don’t mind, i could even help you get your bags from the room.” “no, i promise it’s okay. i didn’t want you to feel bad for me or anything-” you started. “it’s not that i feel bad, it’s just that i have this spare room i don’t use and you’d have to be up early to check out when i’m the one who kept you out late. plus, we could keep talking, and we could get breakfast tomorrow, get you more familiar with the area,” he said, his tone pleading. “fuck it, why not? let’s go get my stuff,” you gave in, unbuckling your seatbelt.

you took the elevator up to the fourth floor, leading art through the halls and into your room. “i don’t have much, just give me five minutes,” you told him, grabbing your toiletries and throwing them into your suitcase. as you entered the bedroom, you blushed as you followed his gaze to your black bra flung onto the floor from the night before. “oh, i’m sorry,” you cringed, shoving it into your suitcase quickly. “no, it’s okay. sorry,” you gathered the rest of your things quickly, trying to ignore the awkward silence that fell over the two of you. “okay, i’m all packed up,” you said finally, wheeling your suitcase to the door and grabbing your purse. “here, let me,” art said, taking the suitcase handle from your hands and closing the door behind you, “all set?” “yep! ready whenever you are.” 

a short drive later, you were pulling into one of the nicest apartment complexes you’d ever seen. he put in his gate code, driving slowly through the lot until you reached one of the furthest buildings. “this is beautiful,” you said, thinking of your parents small house back in your hometown. “it’s nice, i’m very grateful,” art said humbly, parking and turning off his jeep. he got out, rushing around to open your door before you could get out. “oh, thank you,” you said shyly, stepping down out of your seat. “here, just let me grab your bags and we’ll walk up,” he said, pulling your suitcase from the backseat and locking the car. he lead you to his apartment, unlocking the door and pushing it open for you. you walked in slowly, taking in the big open living room and the massive tv on the wall.

“oh, wow,” you mumbled, looking all around you. “it’s not decorated much, i’m only staying here until the dorms open. my parents keep it rented so i summer here and they can stay here when they visit during the academic year,” he explained. “oh, that makes sense. this is really nice, art.” “thank you, i can’t really take credit but i’m glad you like it,” he laughed, pulling your suitcase over to a closed white door. he pushed it open, flipping on the light switch. the guest room had a massive fluffy white bed, another large tv mounted above the dresser.

“you can unpack in here, there’s a bathroom attached if you need to shower or anything,” he said, walking further into the room, “and you can put your clothes in the wardrobe if you don’t want them to get wrinkled. i have extra of my body wash in the shower if you don’t have any, feel free to use it. and my parents usually keep toothpaste in there as well.” “thank you so much, art. i think i’ll take you up on that shower, but i have my toiletries with me. seriously, thank you. this is so kind,” you said graciously. “oh, of course. do you wanna watch a movie or something when you’re done? i’m wired,” “sure, i’d like that. meet in the living room after?” “the living room tv is actually broken, the screen shattered when i was moving it. the one in my bedroom is alright, though, or there’s yours in here. but there’s no dvd player in here,” he scratched the back of his neck, biting his lip. “oh, your room is fine. i’ll be out in twenty,” you said, grabbing your bag and heading for the bathroom. “okay, see you then, just yell if you need anything.” 

you took your shower quickly, nerves growing at the idea of watching a movie alone in art’s bedroom. you felt silly and giddy like a middle schooler, so nervous about being alone with a boy. he made you feel comfortable, though, and you knew he wouldn’t do anything you weren’t okay with. after your shower, you put on your black pajama set and padded into the hallway. “hey art, i’m done!” you called, unsure of where he’d gone throughout the apartment. “yeah, i’m in here! the doors open,” he called back, and you followed his voice to his bedroom. he was sat on his bed, shirt off, awkwardly twisted around applying some sort of a wrap to his lower back. “oh, sorry,” you said, averting your eyes quickly. “oh, no it’s okay. i’m just doing my kinesiology tape, my physical therapist has me doing it every night,” he explained.

“do you need help? that looks like a hard angle.” “i would really appreciate it, actually,” he said,  turning to you, “normally i can do it but it’s a bit farther down today.” “yeah, no problem,” you crossed the room, sitting down beside him hesitantly, “so you just stick it on?” “yeah, just where i have that first piece.” you nodded, cutting off a piece of the tape and studying it. you moved to place it and his breath hitched as you brushed against the bare skin of his back. your face heated up and you hurriedly applied it, your fingers trembling slightly. “is that good?” you asked, biting your lip.”yeah, that’s perfect. thank you,” he said, his voice trembling like your fingers had been. you traced the light pink scar across his shoulder absentmindedly, “what happened here?” “oh, nothing major, i fell during a match when i was a kid and had to get stitches,” he said. you could feel your pulse quickening, the realization of your closeness striking you all at once. you pulled away from him, pulling at the edge of your shorts to occupy your hands. “was the shower alright?” he asked, gaze lingering on your still wet hair. “yeah, it was really nice. thank you,” “of course. i’m really glad you came,” he smiled, leaning back onto his pillow, “you can lay or sit wherever. do you want a drink or anything?” “i’ll take a water if you don’t mind, thanks. do you want me to get the movie started?” “yeah, you can pick whatever you want. the dvds are on the shelf by the dresser,” he said, walking to the kitchen. you picked through his movies, settling on match point and laughing to yourself at the irony. you placed it in the player, settling back onto his bed. he came back a few minutes later, handing you a water bottle and opening a sprite for himself. “match point? really?” he said, laughing under his breath. “i just couldn’t pass it up,” you grinned, heart fluttering at the sight of him. he really was beautiful, hair mussed from his pillow and his eyes half lidded from relaxation. he laid down, stretching out and pulling the throw blanket over his legs. “you can lay down if you want, help yourself to the blankets,” he said, looking over at you. you nodded, propping yourself up with a pillow and pulling the comforter up to your hips. the two of you watched the movie in silence for a while, and you felt your eyes threatening to close from exhaustion. “if we keep just laying here in silence i’m gonna fall asleep,” you said quietly, rubbing your face. art rolled over to face you then, smiling. “let’s talk then. tell me something interesting about you,” he said. “like what? we talked for hours tonight,” you laughed, “i don’t have any secrets left.” “oh i’m sure you have to have at least one,” he grinned, “i’ll tell you one if you tell me one.” “fine. let me think,” you pretended to be deep in thought, finally settling on, “i couldn’t ride a bike until i was fifteen.” he laughed, his head tilted back, and you wanted to kiss him there, just under his jawline. the thought caught you off guard, and you blushed, scolding yourself mentally for being this hung up over someone you had only just met. “that’s hilarious. could you just not get the hang of it?” “no, i just fell every time, it was pathetic,” you said, breathless from laughing. 

“i love that. do you like to ride them now? or are you scared?” “oh, i love them now. i’d bike everywhere if i could,” “we should go biking together, you’ll need one on campus anyway. much faster than just walking,” you blushed at the idea of art still having interest in you after tonight, let alone into the school year. “yeah, that would be fun. you’ll probably be really busy though, being art donaldson and everything,” you said, slightly teasingly but slightly serious. “i hate being art donaldson if it means i’m too busy to hang out with you,” he said, and you watched as his cheeks reddened to match yours, “i mean, if you wanted to, obviously. i don’t know what your plans are or anything for the year.” “i’d love that. just don’t feel like you have to pencil me in or anything,” you told him. “when are you going home?” he asked, biting his bottom lip. “i’m supposed to leave tomorrow. i’ll be back in two weeks for orientation and move in,” “you could stay here,” he said, and your breath faltered with shock. “two weeks is a long time, art, i mean thank you of course but i couldn’t possibly-” 

“i’d like it if you stayed, if you wanted to. you don’t have to go home, is all i mean. i just, i’m so sorry but can i kiss you?” he rambled, inching slightly closer to you. “yes,” you whispered, and he closed the gap between the two of you, pressing his lips to yours. he tasted like sprite and mint chapstick, and your heart skipped a beat at the feeling of his lips against yours. his hands came to your face, pulling you closer and deepening the kiss. you broke away after a minute, your breath erratic and face completely flushed, and art’s eyebrows furrowed.

“are you okay? i shouldn't have moved so fast, i just-” “no, it’s okay. i liked it,” you said, trying to keep your tone soothing, “i just don’t do this, i don’t kiss boys i don’t know, and i really feel connected to you and i just don’t want to be humiliated,” “i wouldn’t humiliate you, i feel the same way. i don’t want you to feel rushed, i don’t usually do this either-” you cut him off, pressing your lips to his once again, and sighed softly into his mouth. he brought you closer, pulling your leg up over his hips and running his fingers through the air framing your face. the two of you grew closer and the kisses more frantic, and you positioned yourself on his lap, deepening the kiss and settling your hands in his hair. he pulled back then, and you could have died and gone to heaven at the sight of his red, freshly kissed lips. “we should slow down, i don’t want to do anything impulsive,” he said, placing a long kiss to your cheek, “not that i don’t want you, i just think we should wait.” you nodded in agreement, sliding off of his lap and laying on your side, facing him. “that was, i mean i’m not used to that and you’re really good at that,” you breathed, acutely aware of how naive you must have sounded.

“i’m not used to that either, patrick was always the one who had all the girls, i’ve never just done that, but i feel like i really know you,” he said, pulling your hand to his mouth and pressing kisses to your fingers, “please think about staying. i don’t want you to feel like you have to, but you could stay here, just in the guest room if that’s what you want. i can show you around palo alto, you could come to some of my matches if you wanted. you should get comfortable with the area, at least.” “i’ll think about it, art. i need to work, though, i’ll have to find a serving job here,” “you can stay here and not worry about bills or anything, i promise. you don’t have to worry about it,” “i can’t just freeload off of you, we just met,” you sighed. “it’s not freeloading, i’m asking you to stay,” another kiss to your wrist this time, “i’d really really like it if you stayed.”

you woke up several hours later, art’s arm around your torso and his smell enveloping your senses. you opened your eyes slowly, taking in his bedroom in the morning light streaming through his windows. you carefully pulled his arm away from you, attempting to roll over, when he groaned quietly. “it’s too early,” he protested, reaching for you again. “just need to use the restroom and brush my teeth, art,” you said, kissing his cheek quickly, “and call my parents to tell them i’m staying.” at this, his eyes shot open, a smile on his face immediately. “you’re staying? really?” “yeah, fuck it, why not?” you said, calling back to then night before, “i’ll be back soon.” you went through your morning routine and picked up your iphone and calling your mom.

“hey, honey,” her familiar voice came through the speaker, “are you headed home?” “hey, mom. i actually wanted to talk to you about something, i know this sounds crazy but i’m thinking about staying?” you said, phrasing it like a question, though you knew she wouldn’t protest. “staying where? i thought the dorms weren’t open for two weeks,” “yeah, that’s the crazy part,” you laughed lightly, “i met this boy, and this is insane but he said i could stay in his guest room and we’re really getting on, mom. i really like him,” “oh god, staying in his guest room? so you’re staying in his room,” she said sarcastically. “no, not now anyway. i don’t know, we’ll see what happens. i have a lot of money put back from serving, in case anything happens. so you don’t have to worry about that. and he’s really sweet, i’m not worried,” “what is this boys name?” you bit your lip at the dreaded question. “um, his name is art.” “art? that’s cute, like that tennis boy,” she laughed. “yeah, actually, it’s art donaldson. you know he goes here, now. it’s his first year too.” she hesitated, before asking, “art donaldson, really? are you sure about all this, honey? i mean, the boy is famous,” “yes, i’m sure, i promise. i’m safe and happy and if anything changes i’ll be home as soon as possible,” “alright, baby. if you’re sure, just please be safe,” she sighed, resigned. “yes ma’am. i’ll send photos!” you reassured, “i love you, i’ll see you soon,” “i love you too, see you soon.”

you re-entered art’s room, smiling as you saw him stretching in the floor. “i talked to my mom, we’re all set. i’m definitely staying,” you said, sitting down in the floor beside him. “i’m so happy you’re staying, i know it was spur of the moment but i promise it’ll be worth your time,” he said, pressing a kiss to your cheek and leaning back down into his stretch, “i’ll be done in a few minutes, i’m just getting my stretch in. i had some practice matches today with my hitter, but i was able to get them moved. what would you like to see first?” “oh art, you didn’t have to do that,” “i didn’t mind, besides i could use a day off after last night,” “i guess so,” you shrugged, leaning back on your arms to watch him stretch. “there’s a massive farmers market further into the city, if you’d like to go there. we could stock up for our stay-cation,” he said, then cringed, “god, i cannot believe i just said stay-cation.” “that sounds good, but please don’t ever say that again,” you laughed. “i’ll be ready in like twenty, is that good with you?” you nodded, standing up and stretching your arms, “i’ll just run and get dressed for the day then.” 

you threw on one of the only outfits you had left in your suitcase, a black summer dress and your converse, and braided your hair quickly. by the time you were done, art was quietly tapping on the guest room door. you were greeted by the sight of him in running shorts and a us open souvenir shirt, a stark contrast of his formal wear from the evening prior.  “ready?” he asked. you blushed as you followed his eyes to the neckline of your dress, “ready.” 

now we’re wearing long sleeves, and the heating comes on. you buy me orange juice, we’re getting good at this. dreams of clean teeth, i can tell that you’re tired. but you keep the car on, while you’re waiting out front.

art pulls his jeep into the crowded farmers market lot, once again rushing to open your car door for you and helping you out. just like before, you blush, thanking him quickly. “so, where to first? they’ve got everything in sections, fresh veg on one side, fresh fruit, crafts,” art pointed to the various spots in the market, and you were glad at least he knew where he was going. “hm, maybe fruits? i’d love an orange right now, in this heat,” you said, and he nodded. you smiled as he slipped your hand into his, leading you slowly through the winding crowds of people. you stopped at a fruit stand, in awe of the amount of beautiful fresh oranges, peaches, and grapefruits. “just grab whatever you want, i got it,” art said, leaning closer to you, his breath brushing over your ear. a shiver ran down your spine despite the heat, and you nodded, bagging up some navel oranges and passing them to the attendant. art handed the woman a bill, and you were whisked off to the next booth. 

the day was spent with handfuls of produce, and art taking any opportunity to make you laugh. it went by much quicker that either of you would have liked, but you were grateful, in a way, to have art all to yourself again. you hadn’t considered that people would stop him for photos or autographs, but there were at least a dozen tennis fans he had to attend to. you didn’t care much for excessive attention, so it was stressful for you, but you were happy to see how well receptive he was to it. he looked truly in his element, smiling politely and introducing you to anyone who asked. by the time four oclock came around, you loaded everything back into art’s jeep and discovered seventeen missed calls from your mom. your heart rate immediately rose with panic, and you called her back quickly, your breath faltering.

art placed a supportive hand on your arm as you explained and waited on the phone to ring. finally, on the third call back, your mom answered, her voice thin, “honey, i’m sorry to interrupt but we need you back home. your brother’s had an accident, he’s alright but he’s in the hospital in sacramento.” “oh my god. is he okay, what happened? i can be there soon, don’t worry,” “he’s okay, he’s in with the doctors now. his truck flipped on the highway, someone hit him from the side. how soon can you be here?” “give me just a couple hours, mom. i’ll meet you at the hospital, i love you,” you hung up, tears brimming your eyes. “art, i’m so sorry but i have to go home, my brothers been in an accident,” you said, just as the tears started to spill. “oh, i’m so sorry. what hospital? i’ll drop you off, you shouldn’t be driving like this. i can let you out at the door so i don’t disturb anyone,” he said, and more tears spilled as he affectionately wiped some away from your cheeks. “i would appreciate that so much. it’s sacramento community, it’s about an hour and a half. thank you so much,” you cried, wiping your face on your shirt.  

the drive there was quiet, art periodically checking on you and running his free hand down your back soothingly. by the time you arrived at the hospital, you had bitten your lips raw from worry.  he pulled up to the main entrance and slowed the car to a stop, putting his hazards on quickly. “thank you so much, again, i’m so sorry for all of this,” you said, unbuckling your seatbelt. “i promise i don’t mind at all. let me know how he is, okay? here, put your number in my phone,” he said, handing it to you. you nodded, typing in your number rapidly and then, with slight hesitation, typing your home address. “i added my address, if you wanted to come by, or if you need to rest from driving,” you told him, “i’ll call you when i’m done here?” “i’d love that. let me know if you need anything, don’t let me hold you up,” he said. you nodded, waving goodbye and shutting his car door before rushing into the hospital. 

you made it into the room, frantically checking on your family. your brother was in stable condition, but his right leg was broken, meaning he’d need someone to help take care of him once he was released from the hospital. your mom’s face was puffy from crying, and your heart panged at the sight. “here, mom, why don’t you just come sit down? the doctor said he’s alright now, no need to fuss,” you said gently, pulling her to the waiting area. she hesitated but followed you, holding onto your arm shakily. “i’m sorry it took me so long, i was in palo alto with art,” you apologized. she just shook her head, squeezing your hand reassuringly, “it’s alright, honey. i knew you’d be here when you could. did he drop you off?” you nodded, “i gave him the address and told him i’d meet him back there if he wanted to wait.”

“good, i’d like to meet him. visiting hours end at seven, they’re keeping him overnight for observation and we’ll have to come get him in the morning. it’s six fifty now, did you want to go see him before we go? he’s asleep, but you can go in,” she said. “yeah, i’ll go in. i’ll see you back out here soon,” you walked to your brothers hospital room, nervous all over again. he looked so pitiful, your heart just broke at the sight of him. guilt from being so far away when it happened gnawed at you, second thoughts of stanford creeping into your mind. you smoothed your brothers hair gently, kissing the top of his head and leaving the room quietly, careful not to disturb him. after some deliberation with your mom, you decided to ride back to your house, and return for your brother in the morning. on your way down, you called art, your voice timid. he answered on the first ring, “hey, is everything alright?” “yeah, he’s okay. visiting hours ended, so we have to go home,” you explained, “did you end up driving back to your apartment?”

“no, course not. i ran to pick up some pizzas, i figured your family wouldn’t feel like cooking, and i didn’t want you to be hungry. i was gonna drop them off,” your heart swelled, tears falling once again. “oh, art. that’s so sweet, thank you. we’ll be home in about ten minutes, we live close,” you said, “is that okay?” “yeah,  of course, i’ll be there,”

the drive back to your house went quickly, once you explained to your mom what art was doing there. she smiled appreciatively , her demeanor quiet with exhaustion. “he sounds like a sweet boy, baby. i’m happy for you,” “oh, thank you mom, but we’re just friends now. i hardly know him,” “well, regardless, he’s a good man in my books, bringing you home so quickly,” you nodded, undoubtedly agreeing. 

when you arrived home, art was parked in the drive, six pizza boxes in his passenger seat. he rushed to hug you as you approached him, whispering, “you alright?” you nodded into his chest, trying to fight back tears for what felt like the fiftieth time. “he’s gonna be alright, i’m just overwhelmed. you’ve been such a big help, thank you art.” “of course, it’s the least i can do with all this happening. here, i’ll carry the pizzas inside and leave you to it,” “oh, stay for dinner, please. it’s only fair,” “are you sure? i’m sure your mom is overwhelmed, i don’t want to impose,” “i’m sure, i promise. she’ll probably head to bed right after dinner, anyway. it’s been a long day,” “alright, if it’ll make you happy,” he smiled lightly, “i’ll grab the pizzas, just show me the way,” you lead him up the path to your front door, feeling silly once again for the nerves bubbling in your stomach. you’d never brought a boy home, let alone someone like art. you pushed the thought from your mind as you lead him into the living room, calling out for your mom.

“in the kitchen, honey,” she called back. you lead art to her voice, smiling shyly and gesturing to the room. “art, this is my mom. mom, this is art donaldson,” you introduced them. “oh, it’s great to meet you!” she gushed, shaking his hand. “oh, you too, miss,” he smiled. “i’m sorry to disappoint, but i think i have to turn in early. i appreciate the dinner so much, but i just don’t have much of an appetite after today. art, feel free to spend the night, i know palo alto is a ways away. and honey, i’ll see you in the morning, come get me if you need me, alright? i love you,” you hugged her quickly, “goodnight, mom. i love you too,” “so, pizza?” art said quietly, and you nodded, gesturing to the dining table. “i’ll grab some napkins, do you want a drink? we have water, sweet tea and coke,” “i’ll do a sweet tea,” he said, opening up one of the pizza boxes. you poured your drinks and joined him at the table, tearing into your slice quickly,

“god, i was starving.” “me too, i’m glad i picked this up,” “thank you again, art. seriously, i can’t thank you enough, for everything. you didn’t have to do all of this,” “i promise you i didn’t mind.” “do you want to stay? i mean, you don’t have to, but we have my brothers room or the living room, i’d hate for you to have to drive home this late,” “i wish i could, i really do, but i’ve got practice runs in the morning to make up for today. i can come back and get you, though, after they discharge your brother,” he said apologetically. 

“oh, okay. i actually better stay, now, until orientation. mom’s gonna need help taking care of him, and i don’t want to leave them right now,” his face fell, but he quickly recovered it, careful not to let his true feelings sway your decision. “oh, yeah of course, that makes sense. well, i’ll see you in two weeks, anyway. that’s not so long,” he smiled weakly. “yeah, not too long at all. plus i can call you! you’ll have to let me know how your practices go,” “yeah, of course. and you’ll have to let me know how he’s healing up, alright? can i come get you for orientation, or is your mom bringing you? where is your car, by the way?” your face reddened slightly, “um, my mom’s car is my car. i never really needed one, since she doesn’t work full time and i worked so close to home. we figured it would be cheaper, especially since i won’t be driving on campus,” “oh, yeah that makes sense! well, i’ll come get you for orientation, then. morning of, or night before?”

“probably night before, i think that works best,” “perfect. well, i’ll let you get to bed, get some rest. i will see you in 13 days, then,” he smiled, holding his arms out for a hug. you blushed, leaning into his chest and inhaling the fresh scent of his cologne. “13 days,” you repeated, tilting your head back to look up at him. his breath fanned against your face, and you played back the memory of his minty lips on your own. “can i kiss you goodbye?” he said quietly. you nodded, and before you could say yes aloud, his lips were on yours once again. you smiled into the kiss, trying to memorize the feeling in case he changed his mind over the next two weeks. he pulled away hesitantly, resting his forehead against yours, “well, i better go then, or i won’t ever want to leave,” he laughed. “goodnight, art,” you whispered, “see you soon,” he pressed another quick kiss to your lips and pulled away, grabbing his keys from the table and heading for the door. you followed him out, waving to him from your front porch and watching sadly as his jeep departed your driveway. thirteen long days to go.

your brothers recovery was fairly quick. he couldn’t use his leg, of course, but had gotten very adept to wheeling himself in his chair. you talked to art most nights over the phone, smiling to yourself as his crackly voice told you all about his tennis practices and rigorous training. he sounded exhausted, and you felt silly for letting worry creep into your mind. after all, he was art donaldson, he was used to it. you told him stories of your day to day routine, mostly consisting of providing your brother with meals and making sure your mother wasn’t worrying herself sick, or working herself ragged. day twelve snuck up on you, your mom entering your room bright and early to help you pack.

“oh, i can manage, but thank you mom,” you told her, opening up your biggest suitcase and beginning to roll your clothes up. “well, at least let me keep you company before you go,” she said, propping herself at the edge of your bed. “of course you can,” you smiled, happy to get some time in with her before you left. “so, art?” she grinned. “what about him?” “i’ve heard you up at night on the phone with him, honey. sounds like more than a friend to me, with those hour long conversations. are you serious about him?” “nothing is official yet, i do like him, but i worry about school starting,” you said, anxiously biting your lip, “he’s got a really intense schedule, and i’m sure some really intense girls interested in him. i don’t want to get too invested too soon,” “he seems like a sweetheart, but i do understand. just don’t keep yourself too closed off, darling. you’ll know if its right,” she reassured.

“thanks, mom. you’re right, i trust my judgment. he really is sweet, he’s a great person,” you smiled, thinking fondly of getting to know just how sweet he was. “well, you’ll see him soon, so i hope you’re confident in what you’re doing. he’ll be here at six, right?” “yeah, about then. i need to really focus on getting these things packed,” “alright, honey. i’ll be in the kitchen if you need me,” and with that, you were alone with your thoughts about art, and your mountains of clothes waiting to be packed away. 

by five forty five, you were pacing in the hallway, biting at your fingernails. ‘this is just art’ you told yourself, ‘i was just with him, it’s nothing new.’ but you couldn’t stop the nagging thought that this would be the beginning of something really great, or you’d shy away and it would meet it’s end. at six on the dot, the headlights of his jeep shone through your window, and you quickly gathered your bags at the door. you’d told your brother goodbye much earlier, before his pain medication induced nap, and your mom was at work for the night. you opened the door, smiling widely as art came up the path.

“well hey stranger,” you grinned, “is that the art donaldson i see?” “oh, hush,” he said, gently pulling you to him and pressing his lips to yours. you were caught off guard, your balance faltering and you leaned closer into him. he held your jaw with one hand, his other arm circled around your waist, crushing you to his chest. the kiss went on for what felt like hours, two weeks of pent up affection spilling out. all your uncertainty melted away with each swipe of his tongue against your bottom lip, like he was pulling your anxiety from your body. you pulled away, chest heaving, and gazed up at him, “well hello to you too,” you breathed. “i missed you,” he grinned, “felt like you might’ve missed me, too.” “oh, i did, trust me. here, help me with these bags, and we’ll go,” he nodded, grabbing three of your bags and loading them into the trunk. you wheeled your last suitcase over, tucking it away, and smiled as he opened the passenger door for you. “i almost forgot what a gentlemen you are,” you said teasingly, settling into your seat. he got into his own, cranking up the car, and settled his hand on your thigh, “forgetting me that quickly? terrible,” he teased back, his voice low. “i could never,” you reassured him, placing your hand over his, “now let’s try this apartment again.”

the drive back to palo alto went quickly, but the nerves eating away at you reminded you of the drive away from it just two weeks prior. you wondered what the expectations might be, coming to art’s like this, the night before orientation. not that you weren’t interested, but you weren’t sure if the timing was right, and you weren’t sure if art even wanted that. your imagination was running wild with images of the night, though, of what it would be like to be that close to him again. art was quiet most of the drive, too, and you wondered what thoughts occupied his own mind. by the time you arrived back at his apartment, your nails were bitten to the quick and your lip was patchy and raw. “well, here we are,” he smiled, “should we unload your bags, or just leave them for the morning?” “we can just leave them, i’m tired of looking at them,” you joked, “thank you, though.” “of course. well, let’s go then.”

when you re-entered the apartment, you immediately noticed a difference. where the couch had been bare before, it was now covered in fluffy decorative pillows and a plush throw blanket. on the bar sat a vase of white flowers, and you thought you smelled a scentsy warmer. “did you decorate, or are your parents already moving in for the year?” you wondered aloud. “i, uh, i decorated. i figured you’d be a little more comfortable if it didn’t look so department store display here, and it needed a little warming up anyway,” he explained, blushing slightly, “what do you think?” “well, i thought it was beautiful anyway. but it looks great, art, you did a great job,” “and i stocked up the guest bath for you, i didn’t know what scents you liked best so i kinda just picked them out,” he said shyly, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly. “you really didn’t have to, but thank you, as always,” you giggled, “well on that note, i think i’ll shower. movie night again after?” “of course, i’ll be in my room,” he replied. you nodded, heading off for your shower. 

art had stocked the bathroom to the brim, with vanilla and peach body wash and creams, and a very expensive bottle of perfume placed on the counter. you blushed at the thought of art in the store, smelling these things and imagining them on you. after your shower, you toweled off and got into your pajamas, heading to art’s room. the deja vu from that very first night was impossible to ignore as you entered to a shirtless art on his bed. “was everything in there good for you?” “yeah, it all smelled really nice, good choices,” you stretched out on the bed beside him, feeling oddly at home. he rolled over, pulling you into a hug against his chest and pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

“you do smell really good,” he mumbled into your hair, and your heart fluttered at the tone in his voice. “thanks to you,” you said quietly. “we could watch a movie, but i could stay here like this all night instead,” “me too.” you tried to ignore the feeling in your chest, and between your thighs, at his proximity to you. “so, orientation tomorrow,” art whispered, “are you nervous?” “not nervous, no. something similar but not quite nervous. i’m sure you’re excited,” “nah, i got enough of pretentious students in high school. training is gonna get really rigorous once classes start. i’m not looking forward to that,”

“i’m sorry, that must suck having that commitment on top of school,” “i don’t mind too much, just less time to spend with you, which isn’t ideal,” “i was thinking about that when i was home. what are we doing? i mean, not to sound weird or anything i’m just unsure of of what exactly we are, and you’ll be so busy,” you rambled, feeling silly and slightly embarrassed, “i don’t want you to feel obligated, just because you kissed me.” “i don’t feel obligated, i like you. can’t you see that?” “i didn’t want to assume, i like you too, of course. it’s just really intimidating,”  “i know what you mean, trust me. i’ve never felt this way about anyone before,” “and what way would that be?” “like if i don’t see you courtside wearing my colors, i don’t see any point in competing anymore,” your face flushed, and you scooted even closer into his embrace.

 “if you’re really serious about this, i want this. even if you’re not, i think i’m too far gone,” you tell him honestly. he tilted your face up to his, his breath fanning over your cheeks, “i’m really serious about this, i promise. i’m all in,” “me too, art.” he closed the gap between the two of you, his lips crashing into yours with the pent up intensity of all the emotions he had just laid bare. his large hands cradled the side of your head, pulling you even closer, like he was desperate for you. he leaned over you, hands all over now, his lips gently tugging on your bottom lip. you moaned into his mouth softly, pulling the edge of his shirt up his back.

the sudden intensity had you writhing in anticipation underneath him. his shirt was off in one fluid motion, and yours soon followed. he pulled away, leaving you gasping for breath, and bit at your neck gently, surely leaving a small mark. “are you sure about this? i don’t want to move too fast,” he panted into your neck, and you noticed his hips rocking into yours, almost absentmindedly. “yes, i’m sure,” you whined, pulling his face back to yours. he stopped you before you could connect your mouth with his, shaking his head, “i need you to tell me you want it, baby. need to hear you say it,” your face flushed scarlet, “i want it, art, please. i want it so bad, wanted it ever since i saw you,” you pleaded. in an instant, his joggers were off, meeting your shorts in a heap on the floor. he sat back on his knees, taking in the sight of you in just your thin bra and panties. “you’re so fucking beautiful,” he said, ghosting his mouth over your thighs, “so pretty.” you let out a quiet moan when he pressed a kiss to your clothed cunt, watching with lidded eyes as he kissed his way back up to your neck. he pulled you to his chest, unclasping your bra with shaky hands, and laid you back down gently. seconds later, his mouth was on one of your nipples, sucking and biting down lightly. you arched your back, tangling your fingers in his grown out hair and moaning out softly. “art, please,” you begged, squeezing your thighs together in an attempt to relieve some pressure.

“please what, baby?” his voice was low and rough as he pulled away from your chest, swiping his thumb over the now wet bud. “want you,” you whined, “please.” “want me where? want me to fuck you, hmm?” you nodded frantically. he looped his thumbs around the waistband of your panties, pulling them down teasingly slow. once they were pooled around your ankles, he pulled off his boxers, and you gasped at the sight of him. he crawled back above you, resting his arms on either side of your head. slowly, still teasing, he positioned his cock against your now dripping cunt, sliding against you. you chased his lips for a kiss, almost sighing in relief when you felt his mouth on yours once more. he slowly rutted his hips against you, kissing you with such a force you thought you might cum right there, just from the feeling of him. “art, please,” you pleaded, burying your face in his neck. “okay, baby,” he said softly, leaning back to take in the sight of you, begging for him, “are you sure you’re ready? is this your first? i just don’t want to hurt you,” you nodded, feeling a slight tinge of embarrassment, “yes, but i know i’m ready. i trust you, i’ll be okay,” you reassured him. that was all it took for him. he pulled your knees apart, his breath hissing as he tapped the head of his cock on your clit. your hips jerked, desperate for more of him. he held one of your hands, running his thumb across the back soothingly. he pushed inside of you slowly, your breath faltering at the feeling of him stretching you out. he stopped about halfway, looking at you with concerned brows, “are you okay, darling? i’ll stop if it’s too much,” you shook your head quickly,

“i’m okay, you can go all the way, please.” he leaned down to you, kissing you slowly and sliding the rest of the way into you. once he was all in, he stopped, pressing delicate, loving kisses to your jawline, “is that alright?” “yes, feels so good, art,” you whispered, “just fuck me, please, wanna make you feel good.” he stroked the side of your face, wiping away your stray tears from the pressure, and slowly pulled out of you, before fucking back into you with a force that took your breath away. his arms came behind your back, pulling you up to meet his chest as he fucked into you, all while leaving sloppy kisses and bites down your neck roughly. “fuck, art, you’re so big,” you cried, holding onto him tightly. “you’re just so fucking tight, baby, you feel so good, taking me so good,” he groaned, and you shivered at the feeling of his breath against your ear. his hands found their way to your clit, rubbing circles into you gently as his hips rocked back and forth quickly. “gonna cum,” you moaned out, digging your nails into his shoulderblades, “art, please, feels so good.” “come on baby, cum for me,” he encouraged, rubbing slightly harder and picking up the pace of his hips. he groaned loudly as he felt the contracting of your cunt around him, felt you shaking and moaning wildly as you came around his cock. “fuck, there you go, good girl,” he cursed, “gonna cum, jesus fucking christ you feel so good cumming around me,” he pulled out quickly, and you gasped at the thick, hot ropes of cum that landed across your thighs. he leaned back, catching his breath, rubbing your hip soothingly. “gonna get a towel and clean you up, baby, i’ll be right back,” he said quietly, standing up on shaky legs. he returned immediately, wiping your thighs with a warm washcloth, pressing kisses to your knees and hips as he worked. you could’ve dozed off just then, from the sheer comfort of art taking care of you, and the sheer exhaustion of what you just did. when he was done, he tossed the cloth into the floor and pulled his comforter around the two of you, his hands never fully leaving your body. “you did so good, love. i didn’t hurt you, did i?” “no, was amazing,” you reassured, your eyelids heavy. “good,” he smiled, “you can get some sleep, i know we have a big day tomorrow,” you cuddled closer to his chest, inhaling the fresh smell of sweat and sex and art. “mm, i guess so,” you said quietly, “goodnight, art,” “goodnight, baby.” 

[vidavalor]

(Non-Frozen) Peas. A Good Omens Sex Meta Thing Side Dish

Shorter little vegetable-themed side dish to Crepes, which you do not have to have read first. All by way of Aziraphale's dirty French in S2 about how he has a craving for Crowley's Eden.

*slips into GO fandom quietly* *whispers*

Do you all realize that another translation of Aziraphale's "Ou est la plume de la jardiniere de ma tante?" is...

"Where is the feathered garden box of my queen?"

I probably don't need to tell you that both 'garden' and 'box' are sexual euphemisms for lady parts and, to make matters funnier, remind you of this scene earlier in the season, in which a literal box became related to... well, it's somewhat open to interpretation so let's just call it a gasp-worthy, part-related situation. :)

"Where is the feathered garden box of my queen?" is Aziraphale saying that it's been a minute since he worshipped Lady Crowley and he misses her.

This would account for Aziraphale's impish "but you understood me" and flirty little smile and wiggles. He's so cute about it that Nina comes out of her coffee shop to try to hear what they're talking about that's made the bookseller look so alive and has Snarky Sunglasses all flustered.

Crowley's "Only because, for two hundred and fifty years, you've been wittering on about the plume of your imaginary 'tante.'" = "Only because, ever since you took French lessons the human way, I've had to listen to you euphemistically referring to my occasional wild flower garden and calling me your queen in two different languages and I love to hate how much I absolutely love it."

We know that Crowley did understand Aziraphale and not just because he also speaks French but because his traditional choices in translating it back to Aziraphale in protest-- "you don't have an aunt, she doesn't have a gardener and he doesn't have a... pen"-- is intentionally a bit incorrect because Aziraphale used the feminine French word for 'gardener'-- la jardiniere-- in his sentence. As a result, Crowley is protesting that "the gardener" is a he right now, Aziraphale, and he doesn't have a-- pause of 'wait, this isn't going to work if I translate 'plume' as 'feathers'-- euphemistic or literal-- as I have both so I'll go with the other thing the word means instead'--... pen.

(Which winds up even funnier since a pen is phallic and euphemistic, in this sense, for currently having a penis, which is actually Crowley's current state of effort in that moment. Hold those thoughts until we get to turnips and inkwells down below lol.)

A 'plume' in French is a pen, a feather, a quill, and a cloud of rising smoke. In Good Omens, it's also used in the smoke-like definition by Michael to describe the pink plume of magical energy that came from the bookshop when Crowley and Aziraphale miracled together. Crowley responded with 'pen'-- which is a riff on the fact that Aziraphale is riffing on "la plume de ma tante", a cliched line said derogatorily to mean 'those sentences that you learn when you learn a new language that you'd never say in real life.' Crowley used 'aunt', 'gardener' and 'pen' as the translation in reference to the cliche Aziraphale was referencing. Aziraphale, though, adjusted the line, as we saw-- adding words to it to make it a stealth, flirty request-- and Crowley did hear the innuendo. Crowley correctly heard Aziraphale using 'plume' in the 'feather' sense (hilariously, considering that they have actual feathers in their angel/demon forms lol), with the 'feather'-context 'plume' being euphemistic for Crowley keeping it real down below.

(It could be worse, Crowley. He could be in a blasphemous mood and referring to it as "The Burning Bush"... which I feel like you'd actually find hilarious but anyway, moving on...)

In English, appropriated from the French, a 'jardiniere' is a flower box/garden planter. 'Tante' is French for 'aunt' but it's also a word meaning both 'queen'/'pansy' in the queer sense of the words (a 'pansy' also being a kind of flower, of course, adding to the Eden motif that "*the* Southern Pansy" Aziraphale has going on for his gardener partner here) but 'tante' is also one of the words that just means 'queen' as well, in the 'regal' sense of the word. It might not be the first word Aziraphale would use if he were, instead, speaking a sentence in French about, say, Queen Camilla-- but it's maybe a more appropriate one for flirting with his gender-everything partner by telling him in French that it's been too long since he spent some quality time with his queen's jardiniere.

'A la jardiniere' is also a French cooking term. It translates as "in the manner of the gardener's wife" (Gabriel: "Whatever that is."). It is obviously an archaic-sounding term when it comes to gender but, for the purposes of metaphor here, it's actually a little useful. The phrase is born out of the idea that the chef would be male, straight and married and that his wife would be keeping their kitchen garden-- which, even though she was probably running it, is credited to him, because the patriarchy-- from which fresh vegetables could easily be picked and used in a dish. As such, it's a lot more fun that Aziraphale is using the French here because the actual gardener doing the garden work in the definition of 'jardiniere' is specifically female by the term's description, so it's another way to reference Crowley's femininity.

There's also, of course, that "in the manner of the gardener's wife" is about as porny a definition for a phrase that can possibly be translated from one language to another lol and so adds to the idea of 'jardiniere' being sexually euphemistic. Atop that, there's the fact that the word itself relates food to romance and sex by referring to the chef and the gardener as married in its definition. The second half of this scene is the Nina & Crowley "partners" conversation. In a season that has Crowley and Aziraphale unable to deal with words like 'couple' and 'partners', if only Maggie and Nina understood that maybe they don't know how to use traditional words but damned if Aziraphale isn't already on covertly calling Crowley his spouse when flirting with him.

While 'a la jardiniere' is a cooking term, 'la jardiniere/jardiniere' is also a French food term. It is a side dish or a garnish of mixed vegetables, usually spring garden vegetables. So, carrots, green beans, potatoes (Crowley: "You say 'potato', I say 'excellent'" lol), turnips (Aziraphale can turn garden variety sex into inkwells!-- haha 'garden' pun, get it? please send help-- and inkwells are the things one dips a quill pen into.... and, now, we're back to the 'pen' translation of 'la plume...').

The most signature vegetables of jardiniere, though, are peas.

As Crowley would tell Shax and anyone who will listen, literal ducks-the-water-fowl need not get their actual jardiniere defrosted.

Aziraphale-- the more discerning duck-- likes his hot, though.

~~~

If you have not already and would like to read more meta like this:

[thegirlwhorideslikeasamurai]

The beauty of accidental marriage proposals

Yuuri very likely didn't intend to propse to Viktor at the airport but his heart knew what it (and he) truly desired and twisted his words into a proposal—or rather something akin to a proposal that resulted in a spontaneous engagement.

Let's unpack this.

Yuuri returns from the Rostelecom Cup with his mind full of things that he wants to tell Viktor. While we don't learn the details, his inner monologue in the previous scene gives us a good idea of the things he's mulling over.

Yuuri has convinced himself that Viktor will abandon him after the Grand Prix Final. Thus, that competition is his final chance to win gold and he's determined to fulfil the promise he made in his speech in ep. 5 and win that medal. But even if doesn't win gold, there is one thing that he feels he needs to do after seeing skaters and skating fans react to Viktor becoming a coach at two consecutive competitions.

Regardless of how much Yuuri has profited from Viktor's support, he is very conscious about the fact that Viktor belongs to the ice. Or at least that is what his anxious brain has convinced him of. In this sense, giving up his own career so that Viktor can resume his own is an act of love and the only possible solution for them to stay together (in Yuuri's brain).

We never learn about the end of Yuuri's contemplation, but the subtext of the next scene implies that breaking up with Viktor is not an option. Or if it was an option, it was off the table once he was back in Viktor's arms.

Since Yuuri has anxiety, it's safe to assume that he has been overthinking his talk with Viktor over and over during the flight, going through all kinds of scenarios based on Viktor's imagined reaction. After hours on the plane, his brain must have been on the verge of exploding, casting poor Yuuri into a state of total overwhelm. If you have anxiety, you can possibly relate.

However, the moment that he spots Viktor, his mind goes blank and instinct takes over as he runs into Viktor's arms and instead of whatever speech he has prepared, he just blurts out the following line:

僕も考えてた。引退まで 僕のこと—　お願いします！ "I've been thinking, too. Please take care of me until I retire!"

The English translation is a bit messed up here. In the original, Yuuri never uses the word coach in that line. "Please take care of me" is Japanese proposal language. The translators probably didn't recognise this nuance and sadly, the nuance is still lost in the Bluray version.

But that's why Viktor recognises the proposal in Yuuri's words.

However, based on the details given and the illogical ways anxious brains work, Yuuri intended to inform Viktor about his retirement plans and to voice his desire to make the most of the little time he thinks they have left. But that's not what his heart wants. And since episode 5 we know what that is:

初めて自分から繋ぎとめたいと思った人、それがヴィクトルです

A more accurate translation of that line is "The first person I want to tie myself to and never let go is Viktor" because 繋ぎとめたい means wanting to tie someone / something to you and never let it go (see this translation error masterpost).

Of course, Yuuri doesn't want his relationship with Viktor to end and no matter if his anxiety his skyrocketing in the face of the GPF looming ahead, that desire has taken root in his heart and brain. However, his anxiety stops him from proposing actually and turns his addition "until I retire" into a gentle prodding to find out whether he and Viktor are on the same page.

And of coruse, they are.

And it's all Yuuri has wished for. He's been anxious the whole time. Until Viktor recognises the proposal and response with a yes in the same fashion that Yuuri has asked.

To wrap all of this up:

Absence nurtures desire and in this case, the time apart has shown Yuuri and Viktor how much they want to be by each other's side. Because he missed Viktor so desperately, Yuuri's heart wins over his anxiety for once and enables him to tell Viktor his deepest desire. By recognising said desire, Viktor is able to accept the proposal and the two boys are now officially engaged. And that's yet another beautiful aspect about this show.

Unfortunately Viktor didn't really catch the part about the retirement, which will result in him thinking that Yuuri wants to break up when Yuuri announces his retirement plans in Barcelona. On the other hand, knowing that Viktor wants to stay by his side forever is a huge relief for Yuuri and allows him to enter the GPF without any emotional baggage.

Bonus: look at that cute tiny smile right between Viktor recognising the proposal and the second hug.

For further readings related to this please check out:

Japanese dating culture in YOI

Unwrapping "Let's end this"

On Yuuri's top-secret love life

If you enjoyed this meta you might like to check out my YOI canon works on AO3 or just support me by reblogging this post.

[chifuyudck]

the brothers with a mc who suffers from ADHD.

obey me brothers x gn!mc

summary: how the seven demon lords handle a mc with adhd; attention-deficit/hyperactivity disorder.

a/n: i really wanted to write this since i actually suffer from adhd myself. (i procrastinated writing this for over a month….) i’ll probably use this for comfort whenever i’m upset with myself, since i forget most of my writings a few days after i have posted them lololol. don’t self diagnose from my post please! if this rings any bells for you, tell a doctor or do plenty of more research on your own. anyway, sorry for bad grammar, english is not my first language, enjoy!!!

adhd related subjects that are mentioned in this story: poor awareness of voice tone (loud), short-term memory, struggle focussing, overbearing feeling of guilt, not understanding unclear orders, overthinking, overstimulated by sounds, hyperactivity, little patience, masking, hyperfocussing, forgetful of basic needs.

————————————————————————

LUCIFER

lucifer frowns as he hears your loud laughter coming from somewhere around the house. usually it wouldn’t bother him that much, but he had asked you three times now to start studying for your upcoming tests since your grades were getting lower and lower as time passed. he abruptly stands up from his chair and makes his way out of his office, searching for the place you’re located in this time.

he easily finds you by the sounds of your laughter and stops in his tracks in front of asmodeus’ room. without knocking he swings the door open widely, which earns a scream from both you and asmo. “luciferrr, you scared us!” asmo says with a high-pitched voice, his arms lingering around you. “mc, mind explaining why you’re here, and not in your room, studying as you should be?” lucifer asks with a stern voice, completely ignoring asmo’s whining.

you quickly stand up, with rosy cheeks as you got ‘busted’. “i forgot..” you mumble avoiding any eye contact. “what do you mean, you forgot?” lucifer asks beyond belief. “well i came here to get.. uh.. something, and i guess i got carried away a little bit.” you say, not even able to remember why you were here in the first place. “this is not the first time something important has slipped from your mind, mc.” lucifer exclaims, which makes you roll your eyes internally. “okay i get it, i’m sorry.” you say, obviously a bit pissed off. it’s not like you can really help it that you’re like this.

“you don’t have to apologise.” lucifer says, softening a bit, “you’re right they shouldn’t!” asmo mentions. you look at lucifer very confused, is he angry at you or not? and as if he can read you mind he says, “i’m not angry, just worried about your school prestations.” this makes you feel a bit lightened up. he leaves the room and makes his way towards your room, assuming you’ll follow him, which you do.

as you both arrive in your room he pulls another chair next to yours, having the both of you sit at your desk. “i’ll help you stay focused on your studies.” lucifer says as he grabs your textbook to quiz you. he was aware of your adhd but it never really came to his mind that it affected you this bad. “aren’t you too busy?” you ask him, worried for his sake. “i’m never too busy to help you.” he says with a soft smile.

MAMMON

you let out a silent sigh as mammon continues talking about gamble related stuff. you really, really do love mammon, but you’re just getting bored of the endless stories about how he defeated his ‘worst’ enemies in a poker game. hearing his story has you remembering a memory with an old friend, and this story is way more interesting than mammon’s in your opinion.

not waiting another second to interrupt him, you start speaking, “this one time me and an old friend—“ you cut yourself off when you see mammon’s annoyed face. he didn’t really appreciate you interrupting his story. nonetheless you were in search of dopamine, and a good argument really gives you that, which is way better than hearing a boring story.

“is there something wrong?” you ask him, in a tone that makes mammon even more upset. “no, go ahead with your story.” mammon says quieter than usual, which makes your heart sink. he wasn’t going to argue back… why were you even thinking of arguing with mammon to begin with. now you felt as if guilt is eating you alive. “i’m so sorry mammon, please forgive me..” you say, now he thinks you’re overreacting, maybe you are or maybe it’s because you feel overly concerned with the feelings of others.

it’s as if you’re about to burst out into tears, which really scares mammon. “i don’t mind! stop worryin’ mc!” he says, grabbing you firmly by your shoulders to really get it into your head. “i’m sorry.” you apologise again, feeling less guilt than before. he shakes his head and says, “tell me what you and your friend did that one time.”

LEVIATHAN

you were in levi’s room, watching him play one of his favourite games on a console from the couch. you really enjoy watching, the way his character moves so swiftly itches you brains just right. suddenly leviathan speaks, “mc, would you like to try?” he asks and you smile, “yeah, sure that would be fun.”

he hands you the controller, which you let adjust into your hands. you get the hang of the controls quickly and now you need to face the end-boss. “okay, just use the controls you’ve been using the whole time, you’ll be fine.” he instructs, but it’s not so clear for you. what exact controls? you’ve been using multiple ones. and do you need to crouch or sprint? or would that lower your performance? suddenly all sorts of questions pop up in your mind, but it’s too late to ask them as the end-boss already parades into the screen.

you start stressing and just after three hits you’re k.o. which surprises leviathan. “how did that go so wrong? you knew the controls just now.” he wonders, which makes you feel a little less confident. “can you show me the exact controls i need to use to beat the boss?” you ask him, which makes him nod immediately. he’s happy to teach you these things since he’s so interested in them.

after teaching you again, and explaining clearly what to do you’re ready to try once more. and this time after three hits the end-boss is k.o. you’ve won! levi excitedly cheers you on, “i’m so proud of you, mc!” he exclaims, he even seems happier than you. “it’s all because of your help.” you say cheekily.

SATAN

located in the library, you and satan were reading, both different books. usually you love reading, but right now you can’t focus. maybe satan just happens to have a small cough, that catches your attention every time you hear it. and what is that buzzing sound you keep hearing? is it the radiator, or maybe a mosquito? having the fireplace on would be so nice right now, you really love those crunchy sounds it makes. and hot chocolate together with that would be so cozy!

“what are you thinking about, mc?” satan’s voice suddenly interrupts the ‘silence’. “can we put the fireplace on?” you ask him awfully excited. “sure.” he chuckles from the sudden excitement and makes his way to the fireplace, starting a fire, just for you. “we should have hot chocolate with this, i’ll go get some!” you erupt and almost sprint off to the kitchen.

returning with two mugs of hot chocolate you notice satan silently reading his book again, which makes you smile. you quietly put the mugs onto the table, which earns a soft look from him. you sit back down, grabbing your book and continue reading.

now it’s the third time you’re re-reading this page, you really are reading, but it just doesn’t get into your head. you let out a sigh, and you start fidgeting with the corners of the pages, which doesn’t go unnoticed by satan. “don’t fold the pages, mc.” he says with a stern, but soft voice. you immediately pull your hand back. “oh, i didn’t notice.” you mention, then you both continue reading in silence again.

finally you groan, and close your book. “i can’t read another word, satan.” you whine as you put the book down, his eyes shoot up to you. “i figured you couldn’t focus.” he says, that makes you smile unconsciously, he knew you so well. “we can go outside for a walk?” he asks you, which has you nodding excitedly, “that’d be nice!”

ASMODEUS

the two of you are seated in asmo’s room, him polishing your nails. you love spending time with asmodeus, since you can talk about anything to him, and you kind of do talk a lot. speaking for itself you aren’t allowed to move around, which is do-able because he’s still in the process of actually painting your nails, it’s always the drying part, also known as the waiting part that’s a hard thing to do for you.

“okay the nail polish needs to dry, don’t move hon.” asmo announces, earning a nod from you. but quickly his order is forgotten as you get too carried away with gossiping about what you had heard from solomon the other day.

you swipe your hand through your hair and freeze your arm mid-air when you realise what happened. “oh my god.” you and asmo say in unison. quickly you put your hands down and the two of you examine the nails. it’s everywhere but on your nails.

you quickly look at asmodeus’ face, ready to copy the emotions that will form onto his features. as he starts laughing you let out a relieved sigh and join his laughter. “blue isn’t really your color anyway.” he says with a smile, while removing the remaining nail polish with a cotton pad.

BEELZEBUB

you had been in your room the entire day, finally having motivation to clean up the mess you made in your room, after three weeks. lucifer had said it wasn’t his task to keep you on track with tidying, and that you should learn how to do it yourself. thinking about a proud lucifer made you really motivated, though beelzebub might not be as proud.

you hear a knock on the door and it bursts open, “mc, i haven’t seen you eat today.” he straight-forwardly mentions. now that you think about it, he’s right, you haven’t eaten anything today. the hyperfocus on tidying was bigger than the lingering feeling of hunger. “i will eat when i finish cleaning my room.” you say.

beel comes closer to you, and you look confused at him. suddenly he swipes you off the floor and carries you over his shoulder, “beel!” you whine as he takes you away from your room, towards the kitchen. as he sets you down on a chair, he immediately starts prepping a meal for you.

“you really shouldn’t starve yourself mc, not even for the sake of cleaning your room.” beel says with a frown, it’s obvious he’s very worried about you. “i know i shouldn’t, i just forgot to eat..” you say with a sigh. luckily beel never forgets one of his meals and neither forgets one of your meals. he will always make sure his loved ones are fed.

BELPHEGOR

the sounds of your phone echo through your room as you’re mindlessly scrolling through videos. you should be tutoring belphie now, because you’re somehow better at school than him. you turn to the other side, while still being engrossed by your phone. though guilt is pitting in your stomach, and all you can hear in your head is, “get up, and go to belphie.” but you can’t. it’s too much of a hassle and somehow a bit anxious for you, but you do want to go, it’s like you’re paralysed because you can’t decide on what to do. so your decision is to continue scrolling.

the end of your doom-scrolling arrives as your door slams open, and an half awake belphie is standing inside your room. “why are you still in bed— *yawn* even i am on my feet.” he mumbles. you sit up, at loss of words, what can you genuinely say at this moment? “you can’t tell me you’re turning, lazy.” he says in a teasing tone.but you actually felt bad about it, were you actually lazy? belphie sees your expression change and feels a twinge of panic. “just kidding, you’re never lazy compared to me.” he jokes, but it doesn’t really help. you feel unsure about yourself.

he comes closer and cups your cheek, “hey. i was joking around, you’re not lazy.” he firmly says. you look up at him, and crack a smile at him. though you didn’t feel so happy inside. he sits down next to you, but quickly shifts into a lying position. “i am lazy though.” he snickers and pulls you down next to him. trapping you against his chest with one hand, while pulling the comforters over you two, with the other hand. “…and you’re going to experience it with me.” he says, which makes you chuckle while unconsciously shifting closer.

[starcurtain]

I guess it's because his Warp is called 'gilded imprisonment', and the phonecall with Jade where he says 'I don't wanna bet anything just to escape your clutches'.

Kinda makes him a foil to Robin and warped parallel to Sunday in a way I think if you see him as thinking of his job as a gilded cage. It may not really be true, maybe he can walk away anytime he wants I'm sure he has the power and ability to even if hed be up for silencing if he left the Stonehearts, but he has nowhere else to go so he may just be trapping himself there with his own apathy. Hope that made sense lol

Always enjoy reading your thoughts ty for the food 🙏

(Will answer the part about the character foils in a different post because that is a whole long thing of its own!!)

See, I definitely think this is the issue, because I have had people say that exact thing to me "Well his warp is called gilded imprisonment so that has to be referring to the IPC!" Like... Do people think the IPC has a monopoly on the word "gilded" or something? Or that "gilded" can only refer to literal gold coins and not any of the many, many metaphors for being a prisoner to destiny that are swirling around Aventurine?

"To gild" means to "cover thinly with gold." It doesn't mean to create wealth, to imply actual money, or even to relate at all to the concept of "golden handcuffs" (which is what people seem to be mistaking it for). Gilding could more accurately be described as a process of taking something cheap--like low-quality nickel--and plating it over with the thinnest layer of gold, to try to make the item seem much better than it is. Gilding something is often like dressing up a pig--you can make it look pretty on the outside, but on the inside, it's still a pig.

Just the thinnest layer of gold over a darker interior...

There's nothing about "gilded imprisonment" that automatically has anything to do with the IPC, unless you're already coming in with the impression that Aventurine is a prisoner of the IPC. If you start with a preconceived notion of what "imprisonment" means for Aventurine, then and only then do we make the jump to "Oh, this must be in reference to the IPC." Take that preconception out and there's zero connection lol.

Even the Chinese name of the warp, "囚石铸金" (lit. "Prison stones cast [in] gold") and other languages' translation of the banner name (like German's "Stein zu Gold," lit. "Stone to gold") imply that the most important element of the banner is "coating over something bad with something good"--i.e., turning prison walls into gold, turning the "stone" of his dark past into something shining. (This actually makes a nice irony in several languages, because he turned the rocky desert of his homeland and the stone walls of a prison into gold by... earning a Cornerstone and becoming a "Stoneheart"--or, that is, he himself is a "worthless" stone that has been thinly coated over in shiny wealth.)

But personally, if we really want to go by the English name of the banner, I would argue that it is much more likely Aventurine's banner name is a reference to his own troubled relationship with the concept of "blessings" and "destiny" than anything to do with the IPC.

From the beginning of his life, Kakavasha was told he was "blessed" and that he was the "chosen one." He was favored by a goddess, born on the day of her rebirth, and told that he will be the savior of his people. So, we can literally say he's the Avgin "golden child," which is further supported by the constant connection between Aventurine and gold colors (his golden-haired appearance, his mother's gold accessories with him since his birth, the word "Avgin" itself even meaning [golden] honey). So as the "golden child," we have this perception that his power of incredible luck, gifted to him by a goddess, must be a blessing, a good thing.

And yet that's not how it plays out for him. What his family tells him is a blessing ends up functioning more like a curse for Aventurine, when it becomes clear he can't use that luck of his to protect those who mean the most to him. He might be the goddess's golden child, the chosen one--but no one else is chosen with him. He's a failed savior, an incapable hero, and there is no escape from the destiny which has been decided for him.

There's a reason his lightcone is called "Inherently Unjust Destiny." His own destiny, decided when he was born favored of an aeon, makes him a prisoner of the suffering that he can survive but never avoid.

We see how much this haunts him constantly throughout his experiences in 2.1...

To me, I would interpret the English banner name "Gilded Imprisonment" as much more related to how Aventurine's blessing, which is supposed to make him the favored, lucky, golden child, is actually nothing more than a thin veneer over the terrible destiny that binds him, continually costing him everything and everyone he loves.

On to the other point entirely, I think people might also really be misinterpreting that sentence about "escaping Jade's clutches." Again, I think this relates a lot to the fact that people are coming into Aventurine's character with this preconception of him as a prisoner to the IPC, so they're interpreting this sentence in the most literal way possible ("I want to get away from you"), but that is actually not what Aventurine is saying at all there.

Jade's rank in the IPC is P46. If Aventurine is promoted to P46, he would no longer be her subordinate. Therefore, when he says "I don't want to bet anything just to escape your clutches," this is actually a (vaguely snarky, to be sure) compliment. Aventurine is saying "I don't want you to think I'm engaging in a bet [that I know I'll win] because I dislike working for you."

It's supposed to be flattery. He's saying "Don't think I'm trying to get away from you, oh great Madam Jade. I wouldn't try to make any bets just to get out of being your underling."

I think it's got a healthy dose of sarcasm to be sure, because Jade herself would have trained Aventurine to snatch every chance to get ahead. So now he's in the hilarious situation of having to balance the expected respect to his mentor ("Of course I would never want to leave you! You're the best boss!") with the fact that his own mentor wants him to be cut-throat at all costs lolol.

It's irony-laced flattery for sure.

That's why his next line is "Well, if it's just a friendly bet though, then sure, I'll engage." He's saying "So long as you know I'm not betting because I dislike working for you, sure, I'll play along." Because he knows that's what he's supposed to do--as a Stoneheart, he should be seizing every opportunity to advance. He virtually has to make this bet that he'll be promoted just to demonstrate the desirous personality that Jade would be expecting.

And honestly, it's supposed to be a callback to their first scene together too. They literally add that to text so people can't miss it. Kakavasha came to Jade as a person "hungry" to rise up the chain, to change his circumstances. He's making the same bet again to suggest to her that he hasn't changed in the slightest even after his experiences in Penacony.

(Now, why he's trying to act like he hasn't changed in front of Jade is another story, and "Aventurine is out to destroy the IPC" conspiracy theorists can run wild with this one for sure.)

But yeah. That line... really does not mean what people think it means, apparently.

Anddddd I'll get to the character foils in another post; this was already long enough as-is! 😂

[famemonsterrr]

Astrological observations part 20.

! This is 20th blog with observations and I’m so shocked I haven’t give up yet. Pliz for the love of mercury be gentle with me cause English isn’t my second language and I’m trying my best with vocabulary and grammar. Lastly these are my opinion and what I have experienced in my life don’t take it personally!

༘⋆ having earth sign placements means stress and anxiety for everything (send you love)

༘⋆ Leo moons must be the least confident placements because Leo is in the planet of emotions and so any criticism will crush them. Pliz be gentle with Leo moons:(

༘⋆ y’all think that Gemini, Sagittarius and Pisces aren’t easy to keep and they will change many lovers but I will tell you that you aren’t special enough to keep them. If they actually fall in love with you then they won’t leave even if Satan tries to bribe them.

༘⋆ Having libra/gemini moon is a blessing and a curse at the same time. I will talk about the curse of feeling a lot but you can’t decide what to feel…yeah you can talk ur emotions but truly u can’t even pick anything to feel. Also having your moon in your 3rd house is actually the same thing as having libra or Gemini.

༘⋆ Capricorn men are the men who look really good with glasses and elegant library college style. Prove me wrong hihihi

༘⋆ and speaking of male Capricorns. I want someone to explain to me why they look like they have lived 20 lives in the span of 5 years? Like Capricorn men change so much…and it’s really scary. If not the most chameleon type of sign.

༘⋆ everyone can say that they had a messy life or they messed up a lot…but not like Gemini,Aries,Pisces and Sagittarius did. These people they have done the most stupid shit ever and then BOOM one day they decide that have grow up and need to fix their lives. (It’s never too late babes)

༘⋆ in the subject of men (which I don’t like as much) I have to tell you that the men who looked the most beautiful are libra and Taurus men. Like they are so eye candies.

༘⋆ and the last capricorn observation but I true love u guys and also I want to know why you are talented and know so many things? Like I have noticed that so many male Capricorns are so talented and can talk about everything. Like they can paint, draw, play music, sing, act and they are so funny and charismatic…women? Literally goddesses.

༘⋆ I was watching the office and the line that Ryan says "I’m keeping a list of everyone who wrongs me" is the most Scorpio and Leo thing I have ever seen.

༘⋆ I have been around with a lot of Pisces and honestly they all so social butterfly (expect me who dislikes people for some reason) I don’t know why people think we are shy and introverts?

༘⋆ okay but I have noticed that people who are okay with nudity and consider it as freedom are the people who have heavy Aries, Scorpio, libra and Sagittarius placements.

༘⋆ mercury usually doesn’t really show about love but since it’s the planet about thoughts, it actually shows how you think about love or when do you like someone. For example Aquarius mercuries they know damn well when they like someone and they act accordingly (of course that can be influenced from other love related planets)

༘⋆ I love seeing the “Kris Kross” between 2 peoples charts. Like if you have a lot of the same zodiac signs but in opposite placements (like having Pisces sun with Aquarius Venus and they have Aquarius sun with Pisces Venus) then consider this a win and really positive for a relationship of course aespects are important as well. Now I can’t say the same thing in friendship synastry…the most crazy combinations can happen there

That’s all babes <3

My masterlist if you care to read more my other blogs.

Thank you soooo much for liking my posts and give me support to keep writing. Really greatful for it 🫶🏻

Stay healthy,happy and peaceful in these dark times we living.

Send u a lot of love 🫶🏻

[marie-swriting]

Back To Life - TASM!Peter Parker

Marvel Masterlist

Speak Now TV Masterlist

Summary : Your mom and May set you and Peter up on a date, thinking you'll be a good match but both of you think it won't work.

Warnings : mention of Gwen's and Uncle Ben's deaths, mention of toxic relation (no details), anxiety, a bit of angst, happy ending, maybe some grammatical mistakes as English is not my first language, tell me if you see some or if I missed any warnings.

Word count : 3.1k

French version

Song inspiration : Electric Touch by Taylor Swift Feat. Fall Out Boys (Taylor's Version) (From The Vault)

Your clothes are scattered everywhere in your room; it looks like there has been a tornado though it doesn’t stop you from looking for the perfect outfit in your closet. Wrapped in a bathroom towel, despair takes over your body, you should have never listened to your mom. At least, you wouldn’t be in this situation. You grunt when someone knocks on your bedroom door, you tell the person to come in and your mom enters.

“You’re still not ready? He’s coming in thirty minutes!”

“Yes, mom, I know!” you drily retort before taking a softer voice, “Sorry. I just don’t know what to wear, I’m getting fed up.”

“Just put on something you feel good in.”

“Easier said than done! I only find flaws in my clothes. I don’t even know why I listened to you in the first place. I don’t even know him and we already have a date. This guy might be awful.” you start to ramble, pacing around your room. “I mean, you don’t even really know him either. You only know what your colleague May told you. Maybe she made him better than he actually is!”

“I might not know him personally, though I’ve seen him several times and do I need to remind you you saw him once, too. You even found him cute.”

“I saw him for five minutes, two years ago, it doesn’t count.”

“I’m sure Peter is a nice guy.” your mom affirms, stroking your cheek to calm you down. “Just to prove it to you, whenever May forgets her lunch, he always brings it to her with a big smile on his face and a kiss on the cheek. He always comes with her at work when it’s dark. And every time I talked with him, he was really polite. Do you seriously think I would have set you up on a date with the first guy I found? I have some instincts, sweetheart.”

“I’m still not convinced. We only exchanged, like, three messages and it was just to make sure it was still okay for today. Besides, maybe he won’t like me. And even if it works out tonight, who knows if it’ll last? I got a history of stories ending badly. That’s it, I’m not going, it’ll be for the better.” you state, taking your phone but your mom takes it from your hands.

“You’re not gonna cancel. Just breathe, just relax, it’ll be okay.” she tells you softly. “Look, I know your last relationship with George went bad and you suffered a lot because of it but you can’t keep closing your heart to new people because you’re scared you’ll find another version of him. Furthermore, even if things didn’t match between you and Peter, which I know won't be the case, you would have at least taken a step forward, you don’t have to be worried. Come on, put this on and you’ll see, you’ll be beautiful and at ease in your clothes.” your mom adds as she gives you a mid-length dress. “I have to go to work. Text me when you’re home, okay? Be careful. It’s going to be okay, sweetheart, I’m sure.”

Your mom kisses you one last time on the forehead before leaving your room. You let go of a sigh then finish getting ready. While doing your makeup, you can’t help but keep checking your phone, waiting for a potential message from Peter telling you the date is cancelled. Your mom managed to calm your anxiety down, yet your fear quickly came back once you’re alone again. For you, this date can only end in two ways: either it ends badly and it’ll break your heart, which is most likely to happen, or everything will be good and your heart will finally heal, which you doubt. You wonder if Peter is in the same state of mind as you.

The answer is easy: his state of panic is worse than yours. He only agreed to this date to make Aunt May happy. Since Gwen’s death, he has closed himself off but now, he wants to make an effort. However, among those efforts, ‘going out with other people’ wasn’t part of it, especially if it ends up putting another person he loves in danger; he can’t reproduce what happened with Gwen. At first, he tried to get out of it, though May insisted so much that he gave in. He sees this date as his last chance to check if he can have a romantic life whilst being Spider-man. He’d love for it to work just one time yet he can’t help but be pessimistic about it. 

Knowing you’re only meeting at the end of the day, Peter decided to go on his daily patrol earlier. Nothing much stands out of the ordinary, therefore, he comes home just on time to get ready. At least, no matter if this date is catastrophic, he’s sure he’ll be on time.

Entering his room, he takes off his Spider-man suit and takes a shower. In his closet, he takes the first outfit he finds then he starts panicking. 

“It’s a first date, I can’t wear whatever clothes I find,” he tells himself. 

He’s about to change when he wonders why he’s overthinking this much when he knows it’s not gonna work out. You’re probably not going to like him or vice-versa. So, he puts back on his black t-shirt and takes a glance at himself in the mirror. His outfit is casual, maybe too casual for a first date. He should add a jacket. He can’t tell the difference it makes. He has no idea if his outfit is okay. After all, he doesn’t want to try too much but on the other hand, he wants to try a bit, you deserve to have a date with a guy who is presentable. He ends up changing his black t-shirt for a dark blue one. It’s less sad, isn’t it? As soon as he checks the time, he realises he can’t think any longer and goes to do his hair. May interrupts him to tell him she’s leaving for work.

“You look cute like this, I’m sure Y/N will agree with me.”

“Don’t know.” Peter mutters, turning around to be in front of May.

“Believe me, it’s already the case. Her mom told me you caught her eyes.” She affirms with a big smile.

“It doesn’t mean this date will go well. I’m not even sure I want to go out with someone else, Aunt May.”

“Peter, I know Gwen’s death has been hard on you but you can’t stay stuck in a world where Gwen is with you,” May starts as she puts her hands on her nephew. “You have to move on. That doesn’t mean you’re going to forget her. Gwen will always be in your heart and that’s normal, but it doesn’t mean you can’t let another person in. Besides, this date doesn’t have to end with a relationship. I’m already proud to see you allow yourself to move on despite the pain.”

“I miss her.” Peter whispers.

“I know, honey.”

“Do you think pain ever stops?”

“I think it becomes easier to live with it,” May softly answers. “You know, now I can think about your Uncle Ben without feeling my heart breaking completely. I can think about the good memories first before remembering he’s not here anymore. It’ll be okay for you, too, Peter. I’m sure of it.”

Peter smiles one last time at his aunt while she leaves the room. When Peter is ready, he checks his phone and sees you haven’t cancelled last minute, so he has no other choice than leaving to take the subway. Technically, he should be at your place at 7:00 P.M. sharp so you can go to a dinner which is fifteen minutes away from your home. 

In the subway, Peter’s stress gets higher and higher as he thinks about what he could say to you, after all, he doesn’t know you. Your conversations might be empty and if it’s the case, it’s going to be a very very long date. As he thinks about a question he could ask you as an icebreaker, the subway abruptly stops. Peter looks through the windows and he sees they haven’t arrived at the next station yet. Suddenly, a voice interrupts Peter’s interrogations as it informs them:

“Dear passengers, we are currently having some technical difficulties. We are doing everything we can to fix the situation as quickly as possible. We apologise for this inconvenience.”

Peter sighs once he hears this information. He is going to be late. Great. He takes his phone out of his pocket to text you but, of course, he doesn’t have a signal.

For him, this breakdown is like a sign, he shouldn’t have accepted to go out with someone. Even if all of this doesn’t end like Gwen, the fact is, it won’t work, it’s for certain. He’d like not to suffer again, yet Peter feels like he’s allergic to happiness. 

Peter tries to calm down his anxiety as he thinks back to Aunt May’s words and puts his phone away before waiting until the situation is fixed. 

As for you, you’re waiting for Peter, sitting on your living room couch. It’s almost seven, he should be here any minute now. From time to time, you glance at the window but you don’t see him. The more the time goes by, the more you’re fidgeting. 

“Just breathe, just relax, it’ll be okay”, your mother’s words resonate in your head in vain.

Your eyes go from the window to your phone, both of them bring you no news about Peter’s whereabouts. You start biting your lips, imagining the worst case scenarios. Maybe he stood you up? No, your mom assured you he was a nice guy, he wouldn’t do it. Maybe you gave him the wrong address? You check your messages and discover you made no mistake. Maybe you were wrong on the day and time of the date? Once again, your messages prove you wrong. Maybe something bad happened to him, then? No, you can’t start imagining awful things. He’s just late, nothing else. Right?

You wait a little bit more and when it’s half past seven, you text him to know where he is. You don’t get an answer. You start biting your nails whilst your heart begins to race in your chest, the stress getting out of hand, you don’t understand what’s happening and you start second-guessing this date. It was clearly a mistake, you should have never agreed to it. You would have loved for it to work for once however it seems like you’re doomed. You were right, you are going to have your heart broken and this date will end badly - if Peter ever shows up.

After being stuck for forty minutes in the subway, Peter finally arrives at your station. He weaves in between people as he runs so he isn’t any later than he already is. Five minutes later, he sees your house from afar. As soon as he passes by your living room window,  you see him running like he’s being chased by something. Checking your phone, you see it’s 8:05. He’s more than an hour late, at that realisation, you roll your eyes. He better have a good excuse. You have already had guys who weren’t punctual, you don’t need another one! 

Once he’s at your door, he quickly runs a hand in his hair, takes a deep breath before knocking. He waits for a moment before you open the door. As soon as he sees you, Peter is mesmerised by your beauty so he just stands there, saying nothing. When you give him a look, he snaps back before speaking. 

“I’m so sorry for being late. I was stuck in the subway and-”

“I would have appreciated a text.” you interrupt him, drily.

“I didn’t have a signal. I got one once I arrived at the station. Normally, I’m always on time, I swear. I’m sorry I made you wait. You probably thought I stood you up which is totally normal but I didn’t. I tried to come here as soon as I could when the subway worked again.” Peter explains and you can tell he’s being sincere. “I’ve ruined everything, haven’t I? I didn’t mean it. I totally get it if you don't want us to go out.”

“I still want to. The subway broke down, it’s not your fault,” you reassure him with a smile.

Upon hearing your sentence, Peter smiles back at you. Even if he wasn’t excited to go out with you, he made a commitment to you and he always makes sure to fulfil his promises.

You take your bag and close your front door. Peter lets you walk first and you go to the diner. On the way there, you ask Peter a few more questions about the subway breakdown, not really knowing what topic is best to bring first.

Once you’re at your table, you keep doing small talk. Just by looking at you two, people could tell you’re not at ease, you don’t know how to act toward the other. None of you is ready to have a deep conversation. It's as if you have forgotten how to act on a first date. You even think about making up an excuse to leave. The conversation is awkward until you order your food. After talking about yet another random topic, Peter sighs before talking: 

“I’m sure this situation is as awkward for you as it is for me. Your mom and my aunt set us up but it doesn’t mean it has to feel like this. I don’t know for you, but it’s my first date in a long time and I’m a bit rusty. My last relationship ended…, let’s just say, tragically, and so maybe we don’t really need to put big expectations for tonight. We should just get to know each other without expecting anything in particular and just see where it leads us, if that’s okay with you?”

“That’s okay with me.” you agree, letting go of a sigh of relief. “My last relationship ended badly, too. It was pretty toxic and I have to admit I need to warm up to new people first.”

“Let’s take it slowly then. No need to have a big romantic date, let’s just have a nice moment with someone new. What do you say?”

“I say I agree with you.”

From that moment on, the tension leaves your table, letting you get to know each other in peace. Peter asks some questions about the last book you read and quickly, you start talking about your interests, no matter if you have them in common or not. 

In the end, you spend a good moment together. You hadn’t laughed that much in a long time. Peter is instantly enamoured by your laugh, loving the way your face brightens. Peter talks a bit about him and you have to admit you like his personality more and more. You mom was right, Peter is genuinely nice. At some points, you both mention your last relationship, without going into too much detail. You still have a long way to go, though you’re not against the idea of walking side by side.

After eating, you stay a bit longer at the restaurant, not noticing the time going by. When you leave, it’s past 10:00 P.M. As soon as you’re outside, you shiver because of the cold night. Peter notices it and offers you his jacket. At first, you refuse, but he insists so you accept it. As he puts his jacket on your shoulder, his right hand brushes past your shoulder and you shiver again, yet  this time, it’s not because of the cold, your heart also beats faster yet, not because of your anxiety. His touch is like electricity and upon raising your head, you see how close Peter is to you and you think about how even more beautiful he is at this distance. You try not to show anything as you start walking to your place.

On the way home, you keep talking and you wish this moment would never end. You never thought you’d feel this connected to a man this quickly. As for Peter, he never thought he would let himself look tenderly at another woman who isn’t Gwen. Aunt May was right, Gwen will always be in his heart however he’s not as against the idea of letting someone new in as he used to be. Maybe not right away, but if you were to find your way to his heart, he would be happy about it.

Once you’re in front of your door, you give Peter his jacket back and you secretly hope to touch his hand but the clothes prevent you from doing it. You smile at Peter as he finishes talking about his theory about the multiverse. 

“It was really nice tonight. I didn’t think I would have such a great time.” he smiles.

“Me neither. I had some apprehension.”

“I get it.”

“You know, I wouldn’t mind doing something like this again,” you start, avoiding his gaze, “I’d be happy to see where this leads us, even if we’re taking our time.”

“I’d be happy about it, too. Do you think it’s too soon to tell you you’re stunning? I’ve been thinking about it all evening and I just thought I should tell you before leaving and regret not telling you.”

At his compliment, your cheeks heat up while a smile makes its way on your face which Peter finds more than cute. Knowing he made you smile warms his heart.

“It’s not too soon, I appreciate the compliment. You’re cute, too. And do you think it’ll be too soon if I kissed your cheek?” you ask and Peter freezes. Instantly, you regret your question and you don’t know what to do with yourself. “Sorry, I went too far, I shouldn’t have.”

“I just didn’t expect this but I wouldn’t mind.”

A bit embarrassed, you get closer to Peter and put your hand on his cheek before kissing his right one. Feeling your touch on his skin, Peter can’t breathe for a second. He didn’t think your touch would be this electric on his skin. The kiss was short yet it’s already engraved in his memory. He knows he’s going to think about it every second of the day. When you back up, you wish him a good night before entering your house. Peter stands there until your door is closed, then he leaves your porch, a big smile on his lips. 

You both lovingly think back to the evening you’ve just had. You know it’s only the beginning, though you already know one just like the other will know how to bring your heart back to life. You already want to see each other again and maybe it’ll take some time to allow yourself to fully fall in love again, but you don’t mind. For once, you know it’s going to end well.

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