#but i want that fluency back!!

[crowempress]

Every day so mad at myself for losing a majority of my ASL vocab and skills from high school it was just so hard to keep hold of learning when I didn't have regular practice :(

[derpinette]

english used to be the normie filter & how you could tell someone was a Trve Internethead but after the DAMNED 2020 quarantine for obvious reasons EveryBody & They Momma is acceptably fluent so now i have to learn swedish or something. -_-

[queerofthedagger]

a couple of days ago i finished the spanish duolingo course so after some back and forth, i started on french, and not to repeat myself but it really is wild how much you subconsciously keep of a language if you ever engaged with it at all. like. i had three years of french at school which was literally over a decade ago, but between that and my latin and spanish, it's just coming back SO easily. the language brain is just WILD. my most beloved

[shararan]

Types of comments I've gotten on my swedish fics after I started posting them:

I can't believe there's swedish fics in [fandom], and I liked it

I am learning swedish so it was really helpful to read something from [fandom]

I am so desperate for more of this pairing/trope that I put the entire thing through a translator

[louisa-gc]

how to start reading again

from someone who was a voracious reader until high school and is now getting back into it in her twenties.

start with an old favourite. even though it felt a little silly, i re-read the harry potter series one christmas and it wiped away my worry that i wasn't capable of reading anymore. they are long books, but i was still able to get completely immersed and to read just as fast as i had years and years ago.

don't be afraid of "easier" books. before high school i was reading the french existentialists, but when getting back into reading, i picked up lucinda riley and sally rooney. not my favourite authors by far, but easier to read while not being totally terrible. i needed to remind myself that only choosing classics would not make me a better or smarter person. if a book requires a slower pace of reading to be understood, it's easier to just drop it, which is exactly what i wanted to avoid at first.

go for essays and short stories. no need to explain this one: the shorter the whole, the less daunting it is. i definitely avoided all books over 350 pages at first and stuck to essay collections until i suddenly devoured donna tartt's goldfinch.

remember it's okay not to finish. i was one of those people who finished every book they started, but not anymore! if i pick up a book at the library and after a few chapters realise i'd rather not read it, i just return it. (another good reason to use your local library! no money spent on books you might end up disliking.)

analyse — or don't. some people enjoy reading more when they take notes or really stop to think about the contents. for me, at first, it was more important to build the habit of reading, and the thought of analysing what i read felt daunting. once i let go of that expectation, i realised i naturally analyse and process what i read anyway.

read when you would usually use your phone. just as i did when i was a child, i try to read when eating, in the bathroom, on public transport, right before sleeping. i even read when i walk, because that's normally a time i stare at my screen anyway. those few pages you read when you brush your teeth and wait for a friend very quickly stack up.

finish the chapter. if you have time, try to finish the part you're reading before closing the book. usually i find i actually don't want to stop reading once i get to the end of a chapter — and if i do, it feels like a good place to pick up again later.

try different languages. i was quickly approaching a reading slump towards the end of my exchange year, until i realised i had only had access to books in english and that, despite my fluency, i was tired of the language. so as soon as i got back home i started picking up books in my native tongue, which made reading feel much easier and more fun again! after some nine months, i'm starting to read in english again without it feeling like a huge task.

forget what's popular. i thought social media would be a fun way to find interesting books to read, but i quickly grew frustrated after hating every single book i picked up on some influencer's recommendation. it's certainly more time-consuming to find new books on your own, but this way i don't despise every novel i pick up.

remember it isn't about quantity. the online book community's endless posts about reading 150 books each year or 6 books in a single day easily make us feel like we're slow, bad readers, but here's the thing: it does not matter at all how many books you read or what your reading pace is. we all lead different lives, just be proud of yourself for reading at all!

stop stressing about it. we all know why reading is important, and since the pandemic reading has become an even more popular hobby than it was before (which is wonderful!). however, there's no need to force yourself to be "a reader". pick up a book every now and then and keep reading if you enjoy it, but not reading regularly doesn't make you any less of a good person. i find the pressure to become "a person who reads" or to rediscover my inner bookworm only distances me from the very act of reading.

[thehauntedetheral]

Yan Tribe X Reader

Requests are open!

• You were a camera woman for discovery channel. You loved your job. After all you get to travel world with your crew, see and explore the most interesting wonders, and get paid to shoot all of that in camera. What more can you ask for? Yeah your love life sucked because you were never at a one place for long. But who cares? You have your camera and your passion.

• Your crew has been assigned to shoot a new show by channel which is showing and telling people about the tribal life and community of an x forest. You were excited.

• You shooted and captured all the things about the tribal community. The people were friendly once they warmed up to your team. They showed and told you everything about their community, about forest, their lifestyle through a member of yours who knew their language and translated everything.

• You got to know about many tribal traditions, rituals, festive, their beliefs, their worships, hunting, farming style but what caught your attention was a certain tall, muscular young tribe man.

• He would always be with your crew even if he is not needed. You were shooting a particular episode on the womens in tribe? He was still there silently just observing you all especially you in a way you didn't notice.

• Your crew tried fishing for some fun in break time. And as usual your clumsy self would trip and ruin everything embarassing yourself. He would later leave a basket full of fish for you silently.

• You noticed that he was kinda good looking. Okay not kinda but a lot good looking with his huge built, dark black tribal tattoos covering his tan arms and chest, his sharp bone jewellery giving all Tarzan vibes with his long black hair tied in half bun that many women in community wished to be his mate. Also because he was a excellent hunter.

• You once told someone in community casually that you wished to taste raw natural honey from honeycombs like other tribals but were scared due to honeybees and he heard it. Well next day he gives you a huge piece of honeycomb anonymously ,freshly teared by him even though it caused him serval stinks from honey bee because this was not the season to collect honey but he would do anything for you.

• Their community had a practice where once in a year men would wear their best dresses, jewellery trying to impress womens and get their attention. This was a special episode that you weren't shooting but the other cameraman was doing because you were on the other side of forest with a few crew members shooting some shots of forest for another episode as your time of departure were close and you have to finish your work fast.

• You finished your shots. And walked a bit around the forest a little more to explore while your fellow mates moved back to see the celebration.

• You saw yan tribe sitting all alone under a tree. You felt sad seeing him all alone like this instead of being in the celebration with others. Well might be the women whose attention he is trying to grab chose someone else in competition you thought.

You tried to console him by speaking in your broken fluency in their tribe language which you have learned by staying with them for months. You were scared that you might have said something offensive to him unconsciously due to the language barrier because his expressions didn't change but became serious.

He only looked up at you and held your hand in his and said "MATE". You knew your speaking and listening skills towards his language were below average but you were 101% sure what mate word that he said means. And that scared you to dead because seeing his big strong hand holding your fragile one tightly made it clear that he is not going to let you leave at any cost.

Want part 2? Let me know through comments.

Requests are open!

For more yandere reading:

[dedalvs]

My brother and I absolutely cackled after that Aemond and Aegon Valyrian exchange!

I wanted to ask (and I'm terrible at conlangs, so forgive me) what grammar/syntax Aegon is stumbling over here and how to properly say what he intended to? Any why is he making thise mistakes (simply lacking the vocabulary, or rules of the language he hasn’t grasped)?

Let's take a look at it. This is what he said:

Nyke koston... Bēvilus... Sētegon bīlīvāzmi?

The subtitles say this:

"I can... Have to... Make a war?"

Prior to this Aemond is, essentially, showing off. He knows that Aegon has simply not put any time into studying Valyrian (or studying anything). At this stage, Valyrian is no longer spoken by the family on a day-to-day basis—especially as Alicent probably never learned it at all (or if she did, only in a few scattered lessons here and there; not to actually use). In order for either of the boys to gain any kind of fluency in the language, they have to study constantly and find ways to use it. There's simply no daily need for the language—and plenty of reasons not to use it, as very, very few people they'll encounter on a daily basis speak the language.

Now, if we were talking about two random people in Westeros, this wouldn't mean anything. But these are the children of Viserys Targaryen, himself a descendant of Aegon the Conqueror. They brought their family line and their culture with them to Westeros—and, of course, their language. If someone like Alicent Hightower doesn't speak High Valyrian it means nothing. If a Targaryen doesn't speak High Valyrian, though… See, they're supposed to be able to speak Valyrian. Failing to do so carries with it a sense of shame that isn't present for a random person who doesn't speak Valyrian. Aemond knows this. Aegon is annoying him, so he goes poking at that wound.

Aemond could have fed him a short line with an obvious answer to help Aegon out, but instead he threw a whole mess of Valyrian at him. The longer it goes on, the more lost Aegon gets, desperately trying to catch up and figure out what was just said and thereby missing what is being said at that instant. From the whole speech, Aegon probably only figured out that he was being asked a question, and it was something having to do with planning.

So, back to what he says. The beginning student of a language is quite adept at doing a single verb in a present tense sentence. In a discussion like this, though, you're typically saying things like "I think that" or "We should" or "I suggest" or "Perhaps we might", etc. All that stuff that we need to offer opinions, make suggestions, hedge, etc. Much more than simple narration.

Aegon is attempting to do this without a sufficient command of the language. He knows some vocabulary, he knows some grammar, but he simply did not put in the work to actually speak this language. Thus, he has to overcome a lot of Common Tongue (i.e. English) interference.

There are many differences between Valyrian and English, but the biggest one by far is the major word order. In English, the verbs come before the rest of the junk; in Valyrian, they come at the end. And this is how things get all messed up.

In English, you start the sentence saying things like "I think" or "We should" or "It seems". In Valyrian, those things come at the end. If you start with the Valyrian equivalent of "I think", you will quickly realize (presuming you know enough of the grammar) that you're sunk, because once you've said it, the sentence should be done. Thus you get Aegon's false starts.

Starting at the beginning, Aegon says Nyke koston, which is kind of like saying, "I could". But there's nowhere to go. This is how a sentence ends. For example, if he wanted to say, "I could fly to Harrenhal", he would say Harenhalot sōvegon koston—literally "To Harrenhal fly I could". If you're thinking English-ly, you're essentially thinking backwards, and if you simply translate what you're thinking, you'll immediately have nowhere to go. You'll have to take a pause and think about how to get started again. And that's exactly what happens here.

Now, leaving aside that Valyrian is a pro-drop language and starting it off with nyke "I" is unnecessary and makes you look like a beginner, koston isn't bad (I mean, if used sentence-finally). Once he realizes he can't start there, though, he loses confidence. It's those old High Valyrian lessons all over again, and some maester suggesting he hasn't studied. That self-doubt makes his facility with Valyrian worse. This means his chances of recovery are severely hampered.

But onward he presses, and he decides to say "We have to" or "I have to". Now, the problem here is in Valyrian that requires the verb bēvilagon. This verb isn't used in the usual way. Literally it means "to lie on". If you wanted to say "We must mobilize our dragons", you'd say Īlvī zaldrīzī mazannagon īlo bēvilza. That's literally "Our dragons to mobilize us it lies upon". The one who must do something is placed in the genitive and put directly before the verb. If you start with the verb, well, you missed your chance to say who it is that must be doing something—let alone what they must do. Another false start.

It's also worth noting that he says bēvilus as opposed to bēvilza. Let's ignore that it's the aorist and focus on the fact that it's the subjunctive (just like koston). You use the subjunctive with your main verb when you're hedging—when you're suggesting. Not when you're commanding. Kind of an odd thing to say "We must do this" with the subjunctive. Kind of like saying "Maybe we might considering having to do this".

At this point, his confidence has completely evaporated. Everybody's staring at him like he has no idea what he's talking about; Aemond's eating it up. He knows he's cooked. He's got to say something, though, so he says sētegon which isn't even conjugated. It means "to make" or "to create", which might make sense in English (e.g. "to make war"), but doesn't make sense in Valyrian (a bit like saying "to construct a war" or even "to bake a war") and then tries to pronounce vīlībāzmi "war" (wrong case/number, wrong order) and fails, saying bīlīvāzmi, which means nothing (also he wanted vīlībāzme. Vīlībāzmi is "wars").

Long story short, he doesn't present himself very well—and we didn't even talk about his general pronunciation or intonation. It's kind of a great big mess in only five words. A true disaster.

But if there were no expectation that he should be able to speak Valyrian, none of this would matter! If there were no shame associated with him specifically not being able to speak Valyrian no one would expect it of him, and this challenge would mean as little as someone challenging him to speak the Old Tongue or Asshai'i. It'd be meaningless.

In short, this small portion of this scene is about being a heritage speaker of a language. It's the exact nightmare scenario all heritage speakers fear: To be put on stage and made to perform despite being unequal to the task while simultaneously feeling that they should be equal to it.

It'd be so cool if it was okay to be kind of good with a language—if that level of mastery was acceptable. In the real world, anyway.

[luveline]

more hotch with teacher!reader? maybe she’s trying to take a bunch of things into her classroom one morning and hotch jumps in to help (and flirt with) them :)) i adore you’re writing thank you for sharing sm with us lately!!!

you’re so welcome ily ty for requesting! <3 fem, 1k

Today, you and your class are going to make dioramas with a heavy focus on paper crafting. For the last few days, you’ve helped them make plans on what they want to create, and then you scoured the internet for origami and craft tutorials to suit. The only one you couldn’t find was for poor Jamie’s tractors. You’ll figure it out, you’re sure. 

You’ve been saving cardboard boxes, toilet roll inserts, and egg cartons for months. There’s a total mountain of things to bring in, so you’re here early. You figure if you carry huge armfuls, you can get everything inside in three trips. 

“Oh,” you say, as a cardboard box tumbles to the ground, and somehow doesn’t give you a clearer view, “whoops. I’ll pick that up. Jeez.” 

You step over it and almost slip. 

“Careful,” someone says. 

You jump and send an egg carton skittering across the floor. “Oh, gosh! You scared me!” You twist your head, the cardboard that had been resting on your face falling down into your collar. “Oh, Mr. Hotchner.” 

Of course it’s Mr. Hotchner. Aaron, predictably. 

“Aaron,” he says, leaning down to grab the things you’ve dropped, before he opens his arm toward you. You lean away from your tower, embarrassed but relieved when he takes the bulk of your tall tower from you. 

“Thank you, Aaron. I wasn’t expecting anyone to be here so early. Is everything okay?” 

“Let me help you with this.” 

Avoiding the question. You and Aaron carry your cardboard inside to the classroom, where you unlock your door (and you never would’ve been able to do without his rescue). He follows you to the arts and crafts table toward the back of the room, and you deposit your stock. 

“Thank you,” you say when he places his armful down. 

“It’s no problem. Can I help with the rest?” 

“Would you, please?” you ask. “It seemed a lot less before today.” 

You bring the rest back in. He’s the picture of a perfect gentleman and carries more than you each time, which isn’t to say you can’t have carried the same as he did, but it’s nice for once to be the one looked after. As a teacher, you get used to giving. 

He doesn’t make you ask him twice. “I’m here early because I wanted to talk with you if you’re free, before I head into the office.” 

“His Aunt is bringing him today?” you ask about Jack. 

“I didn’t manage to get home in time last night to see him, but I’ll be here at pick up time.” 

You nod, hyper aware that you’d swayed the conversation again. “Sorry, what were you saying?” 

“It’s about Jack. Well, it’s mostly about me. I’d like to ask you for a favour, if you’re willing.” 

“Oh, sure. Of course.” 

“You haven’t heard it yet.” 

You flush under the weight of his knowing smile. “No, I mean, I’m sure it’ll be fine. So…” 

“It’s hard sometimes to get Jack to tell me what you’re doing in school. I had no idea he’d be making dioramas today. And I don’t need your lesson plans, I’d never expect that of you, but I was hoping you could summarise the week for me on Fridays? Or whenever you can. I don’t need updates on how Jack is progressing, it could be a couple of words on the topics you’ve chosen, just so I know what he’s doing while I’m away.” 

You’ve never been asked to do it. Parents of kids in the second grade aren’t usually clocked in on what their kids are learning. School is still half fun at this age, your most important job is to make sure they can all read with acceptable fluency. And it’s hard because their parents don’t help, but it’s fine. You love teaching them something so important, and you’re ecstatic to meet someone who’s actually interested. 

You beam. “Yeah, of course I can. I can do that, I don’t mind. Nobody ever wants to know what we’re doing, which is such a shame! I mean, they’re so excited and of course their parents care, but if they have just a little bit of support it makes a huge difference. I can totally send you my lesson plans, Aaron. I’d like to.” You laugh to yourself smugly. “I never get to show them off. They’re extensive. And they take ages.” 

“You want to show them off?” he asks softly. 

His voice is velveteen. 

“Is that awful?” you ask.

“No, it makes sense. You really don’t have to if it’s too much trouble, but I… feel guilty, when I call him and ask how school was, and he can’t remember what happened.” 

“Don’t feel bad about that. The kids can’t remember what I told them ten minutes ago.” 

He isn’t like you, in that he’s very still. He doesn’t move or fidget, which makes his looking at you all the more obvious. “Thank you,” he says. 

“You’re welcome.” 

“Can I pay you back?” 

You catch one of your bracelets and twist it around your wrist. 

Aaron told you without hesitation that he profiles criminals. He can read their expressions, habits, and idiosyncrasies as thoughts and feelings. He can trace movement to the source. You’re positive he wouldn’t keep asking you such leading questions, or insist you call him by his first name every time you see him, if he didn’t already know that you find him attractive. 

“How would you do that?” you ask. 

“Is there anything else you… need help with?” 

A million things, but you’re no idiot. You can read subtlety too. 

“Well, I have a bunch of textbooks on the top shelf in the stockroom you could help me with.” You smile shyly. “It gets hot in there, though.” 

He begins taking off his suit jacket. “That,” he says, his gaze on you with all the tenderness and amusement of someone who’s known you longer, “won’t be a problem.” 

[radiant-reid]

Code-Switching

super small blurb but this idea came about because of mom on tiktok raising her kid in french and english.

There's nothing better after a long day of work than coming back home to your family. You couldn't want much more in your life than living in the perfect townhouse with your beautiful little girl and handsome husband.

Spencer stayed home today and you can hear jazz music in the living room while you slip off your shoes at the front door. Having a baby is a good look on him, but so is his modified work schedule that allows him to do all his paperwork and consults from home.

You hang your coat on the coat rack. It's not yet warm enough outside to go without one, but the sun is quickly coming.

"Bonjour." You greet Spencer with a kiss as you walk into the kitchen.

He's cooking something that smells amazing, as usual. Although many people wouldn't believe it, his culinary skills are impressive.

"Hi, beautiful." Spencer smiles just seeing you. "How was your day?"

"It was great." You tell him. "Being home is better though."

He nods. "We missed you. Can I get you a drink or do you want to go change?"

"I'm okay." You assure him. "Where's Eloise?"

"She was in the living room." Spencer frowns slightly, looking over the kitchen island counter for the little girl.

Her building blocks are still there but before either of you can start worrying, two hands wrap around your ankle, and a little giggle leaves her lips. "Mamá!"

"Hola, bebé." You cheer, reaching down to scoop her up to rest against your hip in a hug. "Cómo estás?"

"Bien." She replies with a nod.

Before you can press some more Spanish words out of her, Spencer speaks, directing her attention to the dinner cooking. "Excusez-moi. Voulez-vous du riz ou des pâtes avec votre poulet?" He asks her. You can tell his speech is slowed, allowing her to hear each syllable and understand it.

Eloise looks at you instead of her dad. "Quiero pasta, no arroz." Then she looks to Spencer. "S'il vous plaît."

You grin at Spencer, who's matching your excitement. He'd done the bulk of the reading about how to properly raise a baby to speak multiple languages. He speaks French to her, you in Spanish, and everyone else she is around in English. It isn't a perfect system but you've stuck to it. Her level of fluency and words in each language fluctuate, but it's not bad enough to warrant concern.

Until now, she has barely shown any code-switching. Occasionally, she'll throw in English pronouns to Spanish or French sentences, but until now, there haven't been any combinations between Spanish and French.

"Eres una chica inteligente." You tell her with a smile. Eloise can't tell exactly why you're so pleased with her, but she mirrors your expression.

"Très intelligent," Spencer adds, kissing her cheek. He follows her direction, reaching up to grab some pasta to cook for tonight's dinner.

"Smart." Eloise translates the word like it's second nature to her. You suppose it is. And it's a word that describes her to the fullest.

[sinkovia]

-`♡´- ANON ASK -`♡´-

Anon requested that the ask be posted after the fic.

Pairings: SImon Riley x GN!Reader

Warnings: Angst.

As the days passed by, your once perfect relationship with Simon began to fracture. It seemed as though the idyllic days you once shared were slipping away, replaced by a constant tension that hung heavy in the air.

The source of the arguments seems to stem from your "nagging," as Simon puts it. But to you, it's an expression of love and fear - a desperate attempt to hold onto something precious in a world where loss and danger lurk around every corner.

From the beginning, you both understood the risks in your line of work, but it's only recently that the reality of those risks has begun to weigh heavily on your heart.

You've voiced your fears to Simon, your desire to retire together and find solace in a life far removed from the dangers of combat. But each time you broach the subject, Simon's reaction is the same - cold, defensive, and laced with hurtful words that cut deep. It's a cycle that plays out time and time again: he pushes you away with his sharp words, only to come crawling back the next day, remorseful and apologetic.

In those moments of reconciliation, he speaks to you with tenderness and warmth, promising that he's always careful on missions and that this is the life he wants. He reassures you that perhaps, in a few years' time, he could think about settling down. And each time, you find yourself giving in, desperate to believe that his words hold truth.

But as the fear and dread of losing him creep back in, the same arguments resurface, and the cycle repeats itself endlessly, leaving you trapped in a loop of hope and despair. 

The tension in your life reaches a boiling point when you're summoned to the briefing room, where Captain Price lays out the details of a harrowing mission. Your heart sinks as you realize the gravity of the task at hand - infiltrating the heart of Makarov's forces, your fluency in Russian making you the only person who could do it. It's a suicide mission, with slim chances of success and even slimmer chances of survival.

As Captain Price outlines the high-risk, high-reward nature of the operation, your mind races with conflicting emotions. On one hand, success could mean a significant blow to Makarov's forces, potentially saving countless lives and shifting the tide of the war. On the other hand, the thought of risking your life - and potentially throwing away any chance of a future with Simon - fills you with fear.

You weigh the options carefully, torn between duty and personal desire. The stakes couldn't be higher, and the choice before you feels like a cruel test of loyalty and sacrifice. As you leave the briefing room, the weight of the decision hangs heavy on your shoulders, uncertainty clouding your thoughts as you grapple with the choice before you.

You step into your shared apartment, the weight of the impending conversation heavy on your shoulders. Simon is seated on the couch, absorbed in the television. With a heavy sigh, you make your way over and take a seat next to him, steeling yourself for what's to come.

"We need to talk, Si,"

Simon sighs and reaches to turn off the TV, a resigned expression crossing his features. "Here we go again," he mutters under his breath.

Your heart sinks at his dismissive tone, but you push forward nonetheless. “Price gave me a solo mission,” you watch his reaction closely.

Simon quirks a brow but remains silent, prompting you to continue. “He wants me to infiltrate Makarov's forces,”

“Sounds risky,” Simon comments, his tone neutral as he leans back on the couch, crossing his arms. You take a deep breath, "It's a suicide mission," you confess, locking eyes with him, searching for any sign of understanding or concern.

Silence hangs in the air as you wait for his response, “When do you leave?” he asks, his response devoid of the emotion you had hoped for.

Does he even hear you? Does he even care?

“Did you hear what I said? It’s a suicide mission. Do you even care Simon?” you press, desperation creeping into your voice.

Simon releases a frustrated breath, irritation evident in his demeanor. “Of course, I fucking care, y/n. But like I've said a million times before, we chose this profession. We know the risks that come with our job. Any of our missions could easily turn into a suicide mission.”

Your heart sinks at his callous response, the weight of his words hitting you like a punch to the gut. “And if I died on a mission, would you be okay with that? With living without me? With going on with life without me?!” you challenge, tears welling in your eyes.

“Seeing how you're always fucking nagging me, yeah, maybe I’d be okay with that!” Simon's harsh words cut through you like a knife, leaving you reeling in disbelief.

Your lip quivers, and you shake your head, unable to comprehend the cruelty of his words. “You're being mean. You don’t mean that Si, I know you don’t,” you protest, your voice barely above a whisper.

“I do. I mean every fucking word,” Simon retorts, his voice rising in anger. “Do you know how easy it would be to find someone else who will give me what I want? I can never get peace when you're around. We are done, y/n. Don't bother coming home after your mission.”

The finality of his words crushes you, leaving you speechless and broken. With tears streaming down your face, you cover your mouth with your hand, muffling the sobs that threaten to escape. Simon turns on his heel and storms out of the apartment, leaving you alone in the wake of his harsh words. 

With a heavy heart, you rise from the couch and make your way to your room, your mind consumed by the weight of the decision ahead. As you gather the necessities for the mission, a wave of despair washes over you.

If Simon wasn't in your life, what else did you have to live for? There had been multiple missions you had turned down in the past, knowing they were nothing but one-way trips. But now, without Simon by your side, there was nothing holding you back.

Stepping into Price’s office, you steel yourself for the conversation ahead. You inform him of your decision to go through with the mission, his surprise is evident, but he and Laswell offer words of encouragement, instilling in you a sense of hope. With your skills as an infiltrator and your Russian background, they assure you that you stand a fighting chance. After all, who would suspect one of their own?

Despite the uncertainty and the weight of the task ahead, a glimmer of hope begins to flicker within you. Within a matter of hours, you find yourself on a plane headed to Russia, the gravity of your decision weighing heavily on your mind. Simon however remains oblivious to your departure, unaware of the path you've chosen. 

Back at home, he returns that night with your favorite takeout and a bouquet of flowers, his heart heavy with remorse and determination. With each step, he replays his apology in his head, rehearsing the words he's been meaning to say. He knows he's messed up, and he's desperate to make things right. He wants to change, to be a better man for you.

Simon's mind swirls with thoughts of seeking therapy, of learning to control his temper and his sharp tongue. He knows he's hurt you deeply with his words, words he never truly meant. He loves you more than anything, and he's willing to do whatever it takes to prove it. But as he steps into the house, the atmosphere is heavy with silence. The air feels cold and unwelcoming.

“Y/n?” He calls out for you, his voice tinged with concern, but there's no response.

Worry gnaws at him as he wanders through the darkened rooms, searching for any sign of you. Finally, he enters the bedroom, and his heart sinks as he sees a note lying on the bed, illuminated by the faint light filtering in through the window. With trembling hands, he picks up the note, his heart pounding in his chest as he reads your words. 

Simon,

By the time you read this, I'll be on a plane to Russia. I've made the decision to go through with it, despite the risks, and I wanted you to know why.

I've heard your words echoing in my mind, the ones about finding someone else who will give you what you want, about never getting peace when I'm around. And so, I've decided to honor your wishes. Once I finish this mission, I'll find my own place, and you won't have to deal with my constant nagging anymore. Your life will finally be at peace, just as you've always wanted.

I want you to know that I've always turned down these types of missions in the past. This isn't the first time Price has offered them to me. But if I had known sooner that you didn't care whether I went on them or not, I would have gone sooner. I'm sorry for making your life so miserable, for not realizing sooner that I was the problem.

I hope that you find peace now, Simon. I hope that you find someone who can give you what you want, someone who can make you happy. You deserve that much, at least.

Take care of yourself.

Yours always, Y/n

With each word, his heart sinks deeper, the weight of your words bearing down on him with crushing force. Tears blur his vision as he reads your farewell, your words cutting through him like a knife. The realization of the pain he's caused you hits him like a tidal wave, leaving him gasping for air as guilt gnaws at his conscience.

When he reaches the part where you promise to honor his wish and stay out of his life after your mission, Simon's heart shatters into a million pieces. The thought of you willingly walking away from him, all because of his own hurtful words and actions, is almost too much to bear.

He crumples the letter in his trembling hands, his shoulders shaking with silent sobs as he struggles to come to terms with the magnitude of his mistakes. The weight of regret hangs heavy in the air as he realizes the depth of the love he's lost, the love he may never have the chance to regain if you don’t come back from the mission.

The suicide mission.

In that moment, he breaks down completely, the full weight of his actions crashing over him like a tidal wave. Seeing how much he's hurt you, how much he's pushed you away to point that you accepted the mission, shatters him to his core.

With each tear that falls, Simon's resolve crumbles, replaced by a deep and profound sense of regret. He wishes he could turn back time, take back the hurtful words he's spoken, and hold you close, promising to never let you go. But it's too late now, and all he can do is sit in silence, praying to a higher form to keep you safe, to let you come back to him alive.

The next day, Simon walked into Price’s office, his heart heavy with worry and anticipation. He needed to know more about your mission, to find any shred of information that could ease his growing anxiety.

Price informed Simon that you had landed in Russia in the early morning hours. However, he delivered the news that communication would be sparse for at least a month. They had scheduled calls planned for updates on the mission status, but they would have to wait until the designated time for you to radio in.

Simon listened intently, understanding the protocol, but inside, fear and dread gnawed at him. The thought of you out there, alone and potentially in danger, filled him with a sense of helplessness.

As the first month passed, Simon waited patiently in the room with Price, every passing minute feeling like an eternity. But as the hours stretched on, there was no sign of communication from you. No Morse code, no call, no comm. Just silence.

Panic began to set in as Simon grappled with the uncertainty of your situation. He couldn't shake the feeling of unease, the nagging worry that something had gone terribly wrong. But Price remained steadfast in his confidence, assuring Simon that these things happened often, that perhaps you hadn't found the right opportunity to relay a message.

Despite Price's reassurances, Simon couldn't shake the sense of foreboding that gripped him. With each passing day, his fear for your safety only grew stronger, overshadowing any hope he tried to hold onto. But he knew he had to stay strong, to keep faith that you would return safely from your mission.

Month after month passed, and still, there was no word from you. Simon waited patiently by the phone in the comms room center, his heart heavy with worry and uncertainty. He refused to give up on you, clinging to the hope that you would come back to him, despite Price declaring you M.I.A.

Even as Price tried to reason with him, pointing out that none of your mission objectives had been completed in the time you had been gone, Simon remained steadfast in his belief that you were still out there, somewhere, fighting to return to him.

Even as the years passed Simon couldn't bring himself to accept the possibility that you might truly be gone, vanished from his life and the world forever. The thought of living in a world without you was unbearable, and Simon couldn't bear to entertain it.

The last words he had spoken to you echoed in his mind, haunting him with their cruelty. How could he have been so callous, so blind to the pain he was causing you? 

Was this fate's cruel work, forcing him to confront the consequences of his actions? Was this punishment for his harsh words, for pushing you away when he should have pulled you close? Was this what he truly wanted, to be left alone in a world without you?

But even in the depths of his despair, Simon clung to a sliver of hope, refusing to let go of the belief that you would come back to him. He would wait for you, for as long as it took, holding onto the hope that one day, you would return to him and his world would be whole again.

Anon Ask- simon x reader but they are both in the military and reader gets assigned on a suicide mission but has a choice to go or not. reader and simon fight and then they decide to go. feel free not to do this no pressure!!! but if you will dont post the ask until after to make it a little angsty surprise!

[wh1sp3rr]

giving katsuki a massage! + [1.6k wc]

ೀ masterlist ೀ requests ೀ

he’s sat by his oaky desk, shiny finish decked high with towers of books. his back congruent with the soft cushioning of his chair. black-rimmed glasses tipping of his nose as his laptop’s screen burns into his pupils. twenty or so tabs open, completely organised in his eyes, and the click clackity click of his keyboard. a hum that’s been prolonged for hours.

you get up from your comfortable place in his bed, leaving the snuggly warmth your body had adjusted itself to and move behind katsuki, peering over his shoulder to see what exactly he was working on.

he’d told you it was the latest assignment aizawa had set out and, against your better judgement, rather than set out to finish it promptly like a good student, you procrastinated and wandered into your boyfriend’s dormitory 'by accident’ so you say and found yourself already eased by his presence.

though you did have to beg him to let you in.

“you’re gonna distract me.” is what he said, his reading glasses already on and arms crossed.

but you argued and pleaded with him, “no, katsuki, i won’t! please, just let me stay. i’ll be on my phone the whole time, you won’t even know i’m there.”

but he wanted to know you were there he thought. he stared at you for a minute. pondered on whether or not this was a good idea. and he knew it wasn’t. he knew that.

but then you brought your hand up to his, pinkie finger stuck out and said in that cutesy voice of yours, ‘promise.’

he glanced at it, eyes meeting yours then your little finger again and his tough facade cracked with a sigh, not long before he locked his pinkie with your own then smoothly brought your hand closer and laced his fingers with yours, squeezing firmly and affirming a soft, “promise.” the word having a light airy feel on your knuckles as he brought his lips to your hand.

so now, two hours later, katsuki still very much locked in on the task at hand you decided enough was enough.

your careful eyes watch the words he types. aloud, you read the passage he’s just completed, “and thus agrarian economies shifted to industrial productions ultimately redefining labor dynamics within an early britain still used to traditional artisan roles.” you look down at him, still as ever, almost as if waiting for your verdict.

“feels like a good place to call it, kats. the end?”

he shakes his head, answers without looking back at you and continues typing, slightly adjusting the wording so it sounds smoother. “nah. still needs another paragraph.”

“katsuki, your paragraphs are like 50 lines long!” you complain, slight whine in your tone. he didn’t like when you did that.

“well that’s what a paragraph is.” he moves his head to the side so you can hear him better.

“no, it’s not!”

he deletes a few words and types again, reworking the sentence.

“and so, agrarian economies moved to industrial production, redefining labor dynamics in early britain still familiar with traditional artisan roles.” he mutters, rereading it to himself to test it’s fluency, see if it sounds the way he wants it to.

“baby, you need a break.” your words are laced with genuine concern. “look at how tense your shoulders are.” you bring your hands to them and immediately he relaxes, your touch alleviating him.

you take this as an opportunity to run your fingers through his hair, deep pulls of tufts from the roots at his scalp to the very tips. he leans into your touch, groans quietly as you knead and massage his head, something very much needed, but then he remembers he’s still got this paper due and forcibly shocks himself up.

“promised me you weren’t gonna be a distraction.” he says firmly, hands gently pulling your own away from his hair.

“did i?” you playfully remark, squint your eyes a bit. you bend your knees and bring yourself to his level, paw at his hair once more and rake it behind his ear. his side profile was so handsome, jaw sharp and clenched.

“why don’t you take five and chill with me for a bit? maybe i can give you a massage, okay?” you kiss below his ear and watch his jaw loosen slightly. not as tight nor as tense.

“i’m gonna need more than five. especially if you’re gonna give me a massage,” he finally breaks, giving you that eye contact that made the butterflies in your tummy flutter at long last.

you giggle, “exactly!”

you sweeten your tone, drawl your vowels, “come on, please?”

he knows what you’re doing and it’s working. he smiles in a ‘you’ve got me, hands up’ sort of way and (falsely) begrudgingly turns his chair to face you with said smile.

you pull him up easily and he lets you drag him to his bed. happily flop down on it.

his hand finds its place on your thigh, the other by the dip of your waist. you enjoy the feeling. how firm his hold was and yet still ever so careful, like he was only focusing on you and how small you were in his large hands.

soon you lift your hands and cross them at the wrists behind katsuki’s neck, keep a close proximity between your noses. “lie down,” you simply say, quickly eyeing the mattress, crimson cover pulled tightly over it, very katsuki-esque.

defeated, he obliges. lets his chest meet the bed and stretches his long legs out, you kneeling to the side to make room.

once he’s finally sprawled out, you let your pelvis sit atop his, “sorry if i’m too heavy.”

he laughs heartily, the one that always makes your heart melt and you weak in the knees, “oh, shut up.” his sentence rumbles with the buzz of his laughter to which you offer him a soft smile, despite the fact that he can’t see your face.

“mmm, can you tell me where you feel the most tightness?” you ask politely.

he hums, then gestures to his upper back, around his shoulder blades, that sort of general area. “it’s mostly just my shoulders like you said. and a bit down here too.” he hovers his hand over where your knees rest on opposite sides of his waist.

without saying anything, you quickly start. first spreading your hands over the tight muscle by his shoulders repeatedly. you know you’re doing a good job when you hear katsuki’s relieved groans. letting out all that pressure and stress that’s built up in his body.

your hands slowly drag down the form of his body, thumbs kneading in on his lower back. again, another groan sounds from katsuki’s lips. “ahh, just like that, baby.”

you blush, thinking of the many times that sentence has been uttered in a very different context but you enjoy making your boyfriend feel good in any way. enjoy how his breathing becomes deeper the more you move your hands.

“it’ll feel better if you take your shirt off,” you suggest.

“mmm, yeah…" he nods, "yeah, you’re probably right.” he gets up and you slide off him easily. watch him coolly tug the black cotton material over his head, eyes glaze over when you see his taut body underneath, finally unveiled.

katsuki flops back into the mattress face down as soon as he chucks the fitted tee away, he’s clearly enjoying his break.

you chuckle, “didn’t i tell you? you should’ve stopped over an hour ago,” you step back over him so your pelvises are connected again.

he grabs your thigh, face still deep into the mattress so his voice is muffled, “i know, you’re right, baby. ya always are.” your cheeks grow warm at the sincerity of his tone.

you repeat your massaging motions with your soft hands, feel the vibration of his moans through his flesh before bringing your lips close to between his shoulder blades. “awh, baby,” he says, “gotta pay you back for this somehow. maybe i’ll marry ya after we graduate.”

“yeah? that a fact?” you tease.

“yup.” he rubs his hand up and down over your leg. “can take your last name or you can have mine. whichever you prefer.”

“hmm. hyphenate?”

“your choice, darling.”

you sigh contently, “always love when you call me that,” you say quietly as you continue pressing into his tender tissue.

“i’ll call you it more often then,” his hand slips down and easily wraps round your ankle, his thumb rolls circles into the bone as his fingers clasp against the slight dip in your foot.

“you mind getting up so i can kiss you?”

you giggle, “nope,” holding your ground.

he moves from underneath you anyway and quickly grabs you before you can run away. “come here, you,” he playfully grunts.

your laugh is melodious in his ears, he’d do anything to hear more of it. his favourite sound. among others.

he cups your face before you can escape and kisses you passionately. you grab at his wrists, smile still lifting your cheeks and stretching the skin around your eyes taut.

it’s heated at first but then slows into something more intimate and raw, almost innocent. he then pulls away from your lips and plasters smooches all over your face. each kiss louder than the last as you simper each time.

when he stops, he’s still holding your face. his eyes watching how the highlights in yours grows, iris thin in how full the pupils are, he sees his own reflection in them and your pretty smile.

“i love you.” he says, unabashedly.

you lean into his touch, kiss his palm, “i love you, too.” your small hand over his much larger one holding your cheeks. “let’s go to sleep?” you ask, looking at him through your lashes.

his smile is sweet when he strokes the skin by your eye for no particular reason other than to just feel more of you, “yeah.” kisses you there. “let’s go to sleep.”

© WHISPER 2K24 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

[barcaatthemoon]

mini me || lucy bronze x reader ||

you find your place playing soccer, just like your mother had.

lucy couldn't believe how nervous she was sitting in the car park. it was the end of your first youth camp with england. she had wanted to greet you on the field, but you had been adamant about not making a scene. you were a lot like your mother in a lot of ways, people frequently joking that you were actually her clone. you wanted to make a name for yourself at this camp, and if lucy was always hanging around, you wouldn't have been able to.

you had a tendency to be shy and quiet, always keeping to yourself. it was why you hadn't made many friends while in barcelona. you were brilliant, and took the language expertly, but despite your almost natural fluency, you hadn't spoken to many people. that was why lucy's heart swelled at the sight of you laughing with some of the other girls while you walked out from the training area.

"hi mum," you greeted as you got into the car. you had obviously just come from the showers, your hair dripping slightly onto your shoulders. she could see little droplets over your last name on the back of your shirt, something that always filled her with pride.

"hey lovey, how was practice?" lucy asked you. you just sort of shrugged the question off. it wasn't in the same, somewhat dodgy way you had back in spain or france, but rather in the way that lucy would have whenever she was your age. football was one of the few things that lucy felt like the two of you had in common. you were secretive with your interests, only becoming more so when lucy tried to pry. "come on, give me something lovey."

"it was good, scored a couple goals. they're gonna put me up front next game, just to see how i do," you told her. lucy hummed as she waited for you to put your seatbelt on. you were a bit nervous to tell your mom about the position change. she had been talking about you taking her spot as a defender since you were old enough to walk.

"you'll do fine, don't worry about it. you're a bronze, we're good anywhere on the field." lucy reached out and patted your knee. you let out a small sigh of relief as she started the car up again. the drive home was quiet, but at least she wasn't mad about you changing positions. all you wanted to do was make your mother proud.

…

"damn it!" you punched at the ground as another run was thwarted by your opponents. coming forward had been going well for you, but this game was different. the swedish girls had been playing it defensively, and you hadn't been able to fully make a break for it yet. both teams had scored, but you needed that extra point. your mum had dropped everything to come see you play, even flying out some of her former barcelona and lyon teammates to watch the game.

"hey, it's okay. don't lose your head mate." the reminder from your teammate was welcome. she held her hand out for you to take, and despite wanting to seem strong on your own, you accepted her help. riley was definitely your best friend on the team, the two of you being closer with each other than anybody else.

in the months since you joined up with the youth team, you had made quite a few friends. every other weekend you and riley were hanging out. she was signed to tottenham's youth academy, whereas you had gone to chelsea's. still, the two of you trained together and were each other's biggest supporters. lucy was glad that after years of being a loner you had finally found a good group of friends that obviously loved and cared about you.

"they're giving you a penalty. make it count," riley whispered into your ear. you swallowed down your nerves and took the spot. you took a deep breath and remembered what you had gone over at your last couple training sessions. lucy had let you train penalties with zecira and hannah, who definitely didn't go easy on you.

in that moment, you were grateful for the extra help. you reminded yourself of the little tips and tricks they had given you. somewhere in the audience, they were sitting and watching you. you were pretty sure that all of chelsea was there for you, every member of your mum's team there to support you like you were one of them. one day, you would proudly wear that blue jersey, but today, you were here to show the world the future of the lionesses. you kept your head up as you sprinted towards the ball and kicked your shot off.

"oh my god!" your teammates rushed to surround you. there was still enough time for sweden to score again if they really pressed, but defensively, your team was ready for them. sweden pushed and pushed, but in the end, you stood with your team as you lifted up a trophy.

"hey lovey," lucy greeted you with a tight hug. you were still quite a bit smaller than her, but she swore that you were still growing every single day. ona stood next to her, now a solid two inches shorter than you. "that was amazing. i'm so proud of you."

"muy bien," ona echoed your mother's sentiments. you moved to hug her tightly, not letting go of the woman who had become like a second mother to you. she was still in barcelona, only occasionally making trips up to see you and your mother. with you starting school up again, it was hard to find time to go down to spain for visits. "i have missed watching you play."

"i told you how good she's been getting. just wait until the ballon d'or nominations start rolling in," lucy said as she put her arm around your shoulders. all of their words made you feel warm and fuzzy inside. you had no shortage of love and attention from your mum, but this felt different. you had been trying to distance yourself a bit from the pressure that came with being a bronze, and incidentally distanced yourself from her completely.

[luckykiwiii101]

What I Will Be Manifesting This Week :

What I will be manifesting this week:

- Desired Body (Revised)

- Always Waking Up In The Void State Aware

- That my 3D always conforms in under 48 hours

What Will I Be Doing?

- Embodying the state of having my desires.

- Fulfilling myself in imagination whenever I think of my desires.

- Fulfill through visualisation and inner conversations because that is what feels most natural to me.

What Will I Manifest In The Void State?

- Desired Face & Body but with some finishing touches. (doll - like, kind of like Karen smith from mean girls)

- Desired Height (5’7)

- Desired hair (doll - like)

- Desired Name (so elegant and pretty!)

- Desired Personality

- Desired voice (singing & speaking)

- Desired Vibe (90s Supermodel)

- Desired house (so luxurious)

- Desired room (Barbie x Gossip Girl themed)

- Desired Wardrobe (Blair Waldorf type outfits)

- iPhone 15 Pro + Desired Phone Case

- New Desired Biological Dad + New cousins & aunties etc to match

- Revising that my parents got married in Paris

- Rich Family

- All my family members are happy and have everything they want

- Privacy

- Pretty School Interior & Exterior

- Desired School Uniform

- My best friends to live on the same road as me and to have everything they want.

- Perfect mental and physical health for all my loved ones.

- Desired Career to start early (Supermodel for when i’m 17)

- Perfect Posture

- Perfect Eyesight

- Perfect Culinary & Baking Skills

- Fluency in French & Dutch

- Piano Prodigy + being able to play desired songs on it

- Good at playing electric guitar

- Changing Appearance of my family members

- Revising my family’s names

- Always knowing what to say

- Family celebrates holidays like Christmas & Halloween

- Revising my memories to align with my dream life

- Photographic & audiographic memory

- Perfect grades

- Whenever I listen to a song, it feels like listening to it for the first time again.

- Desired Items

- Immune from embarrassment + Revising that any past embarrassing moments never happened

- Life feels like the early 2010’s again

- Life feels like a Gossip Girl Episode (You know I had to XoXo 💋)

- Life feels like a barbie movie (like princess charm school or smthg idk)

- Looking like desired songs

- Can Choose To feel hot or cold

- airport and plane processes to be always extremely fun and quick for my family, friends and I

- Teen Wolf & The Originals to be put back on Netflix

- Season 3 of One Of Us Is Lying to come out

- Some cute things for my pets

- Always know what my pets want

- My whole family to have good taste in fashion

- Go on nice holidays every year

- Materialise something instantly by affirming for it x3

- Kind, Respectful & Secular Family

- Disgusting Roadman fashion in London to be stopped (ew if u saw that shizz)

- Fashion to go back to the 90s and early 2000s

- People At School Don’t annoy me

- High Spice Tolerance

- Always Wake Up Feeling Fresh & Energised

- Never late to school

- Desired ear piercings

- Scary Insects never come near me (especially spiders AAAAH!!!)

- I appreciate all aspects of life

- Never abuse my manifesting abilities

- Everything i manifest manifests 10x better than how i imagined

- Basically revising my whole entire life top to bottom

+ much more personal things

Things I Will Be Manifesting For The World:

- World Peace in all realities

- No wars in all realities

- Palestine being free in all realities

- World healing

- Healed society

- Righteous justice system

- No corrupt leaders

- No corrupt governments etc

- Healthcare everywhere is free

- People are good people

- People treat eachother with respect and kindness

Guys, I will definitely go into more depth when i actually materialise all these and post my success story. + Will probably post some picture proof of materialistic things in my home and outfits etc but not my face or anything personal like that.

I wrote everything i’m going to manifest on here because I know i’m not going to be bothered to type it all out when i’m actually living my dream life in the 3D 💀

Share what you guys will be manifesting and stick to your new story so we can all post our successes together!!!

[theslut4smut]

𝘁𝘂𝘁𝗼𝗿 𝘄𝗶𝘁𝗵 𝗯𝗲𝗻𝗲𝗳𝗶𝘁𝘀 | 𝗸𝗶𝗺 𝘀𝗲𝘂𝗻𝗴𝗺𝗶𝗻

𝗰𝗮𝘁𝗲𝗴𝗼𝗿𝘆: smut

𝗱𝗲𝘀𝗰𝗿𝗶𝗽𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻: y/n is struggling with learning korean and seungmin is here to help! with some extra motivation 😉

𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁: 3.7k

𝗶𝗻𝗰𝗹𝘂𝗱𝗲𝘀: afab reader, dom!seungmin, sub!reader, established relationship, non-idol au, kissing, teasing, slight degradation and hitting, a sprinkle of pussy slap, face and finger fucking, hair pulling, penetrative and unprotected sex

𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲𝘀: anything bolded means that i typed it in english, but the characters say it in korean

i didn’t want to type a full on foreign language since i know that can be a lil intimidating to read and i also feel that it’s disrespectful? of me? since i don’t speak that language? okay! 🩷

_____________________________________

“y/n, i know you can do better than that.” seungmin shakes his head slightly as his brown eyes lock onto yours.

you huff before throwing your head back. “seungmin, i’m just not meant to learn korean. i’ve been trying at it for months now and it’s not sticking.”

you slump further into the comfy sofa the two of you were sitting on as you let out a groan.

“too bad. i’m not letting you give up this easily just because you messed up a few times.” he responds.

“seungmin!” you whine.

“y/n!” he mocks.

you glare at him before rolling your eyes.

“try to remember why you wanted this. what drives you to increase your fluency?”

“i don’t know.” you quickly respond, messing with the fabric of your shorts.

“y/n.” he says firmly.

you groan once more.

“mm...” you bite your lip as you look around the room. “i really wanna have more meaningful and deeper conversations with the guys. like minho or jeongin.”

“there you go.” he says, pointing at you.

“and those shows you watch.” you start, sitting up. “i wanna be able to understand what’s going on instead of just laughing whenever i see you laugh.”

he stifles a laugh.

“it’s not funny!” you say with a faux pout.

“i didn’t say it was funny, y/n. it’s endearing, actually.” he tilts his head to the side. “is that all?”

you feel the warmth of embarrassment cloud the skin of your cheeks as you begin picking at your nails.

“well… i wanna talk to you.” you start, looking at him with slight embarrassment.

he raises his brows. “you’re going to have to further elaborate, y/n.”

he was such an asshole sometimes. he knew exactly what you meant. but you knew he wouldn’t let you get away with having him say it for you.

“i… wanna use it during our… intimate moments.”

you could feel his eyes burning into the side of your face as you avoid looking at him.

it’s not like this was a new thing for the two of you. you had been together for awhile now and had explored each other sexually more times than you could count.

there was just something about this that made you feel so shy.

“is that so?” he finally speaks.

you bury your face into one of the pillows next to you as you made an uncomfortable whimper of some sort.

“no, no. look at me.” he reaches over and redirects your gaze back onto him.

you stare up at him bashfully as he held your face firmly in his grasp.

“you know i’d love that for us. having my pretty girl talk dirty to me in a different language? gets me worked about just thinking about it.” he stops to press his forehead against yours. “but how do you expect to be on that level when you can’t even properly introduce yourself?”

you push him off of you, causing him to laugh loudly.

“you’re a dick.” you snap, crossing your arms.

“y/n.” he sighs, sitting up and adjusting the wrinkles your shove left in his shirt. “i’m not trying to be mean. i just want you to do your best. you’re being really insecure about the whole thing and that’s only hindering your progress.”

“it’s hard, seungmin. i can’t get my brain to retain anything.”

it’s silent for a moment as seungmin taps his chin in thought.

“you’re just not motivated enough.” he says.

you glare at him. “did i not just tell you all of the reasons i started this whole language learning bullshit?”

“no, no.” he closes his eyes as he shakes his head. “those are all long term goals. they’re not obtainable until you’ve reached proper fluency, which then leads you to feel discouraged because of how far out of reach they seem.”

you look at him with slight confusion.

“how about this.” he starts, biting the inside of his cheek. “for every answer you get correct, you get a kiss.”

you perk up, a wide smile decorating your face.

he holds a finger up at you, signaling there was more.

you furrow your brows at him.

“i believe that training yourself should require both rewards and punishments.”

oh god.

here he goes again. being a big meanie.

“you’ll get your kiss from me when you get something right, but if you don’t… that’s one item of clothing from me off.” he smirks as he looks into your eyes. “and you have to keep your hands to yourself.”

your jaw drops. “that’s not fair! you know i can’t stand the teasing, seungmin. that’s just gonna distract me even more.”

“you have to learn one way or another.” he shrugs. “and i feel this will be the most effective for you.”

this was just great.

seungmin knew how easy you were. how the littlest thing had you so desperate and needy for him.

he was stubborn too. which meant no getting out of it.

you knew that you better get it together and start saying some correct answers, or else you’d be feeling the pain of deprivation.

“alright, come on. i need you to focus.” seungmin says.

you let out a small and shaky breath as you got into a more comfortable position on the sofa.

“alright, we’re meeting for the first time. how would you introduce yourself to me?” he asks.

you bite your lip as you look around. “formal or informal?”

he smiles as he grabs your face and kisses your lips tenderly. “ah, you get a kiss for that one. i wasn’t even thinking.” you bat your lashes up at him with a sweet smile before he continues. “let’s do formal.”

you clear your throat as you straighten your posture. “um… hello… my name is y/n.”

he chuckles softly before placing his hands on either side of your waist. “baby, you don’t have to be so nervous. it’s just me.”

you close your eyes as you let out a sigh.

“don’t let that discourage you.” he starts, caressing the side of your cheek. “i just want you to relax.”

“okay.” you say.

“why don’t you try that sentence again? this time with more confidence.”

you nod before taking another deep breath.

“hello, my name is y/n.”

he smiles before pecking your nose.

you pout, causing him to furrow his brows. “what?”

“just a nose kiss? at least give me one on my lips!”

he shrugs. “all you did was introduce yourself. nothing too impressive.”

you cross your arms. “some encouraging teacher you are.” you roll your eyes.

seungmin sighs as he shakes his head at your ridiculousness.

“now.” he starts, clearing his throat and adjusting himself on the sofa. “tell me about yourself. how old you are, any hobbies. things like that.”

you bite your nails as you rack through your brain, trying to remember all of the words and vocabulary seungmin had taught you over the last few months.

“um, i’m- i mean, i am… thirty years old.” you give him a small smile, awaiting his response.

he tilts his head to the side. “you’re thirty?”

you gasp, burying your face in your hands. “the numbers are so hard to remember!”

he clicks his tongue before making a tsking sound. “you know what that means.”

seungmin pulls his t-shirt over his head, tossing it to the side before leaning back into the sofa.

it’s just his chest. just his olive toned, soft, lovely chest. you feel your heart rate quicken.

he smirks knowingly, cocking an eyebrow. “what do you like to do in your free time?”

you close your eyes for a moment, trying to calm yourself down. why did you have to be so weak for this man?

“i enjoy baking.” you respond, eyes still squeezed shut.

“oh? what’s your favorite dessert?”

your eyes snap open, looking at your boyfriend. “how am i supposed to know what you’re saying?!”

“how are you supposed to learn if you’re only being asked questions in english? that’s not realistic. you know what i’m saying, y/n. break apart the sentence and figure out the words you know.”

you take a deep breath as you picture what he’s saying, picking out the words that you do recognize until you’ve created a somewhat sentence of your own in your mind.

“[favorite dessert]”

he smirks slightly, nodding his head. “very good.” he places a kiss on your lips. his fingers ghost over your skin as he does, never getting too close.

it left you yearning for more. how could he just kiss you and leave it at that? he surely couldn’t go on for much longer. but you knew kim seungmin; stubborn and aware of his affect on you.

“what are your plans for the day?” he asks.

you glare at him, causing him to laugh softly.

“seungmin-” “what are your plans for the day?”

he gestures for you to speak.

you groan before rolling your eyes. “breaking up with my boyfriend.”

“hey.” he starts, furrowing his brows. “you don’t get to be mean to me in a language you can’t even properly say your age in.”

you sigh and shake your head. this small talk was not going to do it for you.

“have you eaten?”

you whimper softly and involuntarily at the thought of how long this could last, causing his mischievous smirk to widen and dick to twitch.

“how are you feeling today?” he changes the question and gets closer to you, rubbing your inner thighs while gently touching the side of your neck with the tip of his nose. you feel his breath fanning on your collarbone, causing goosebumps to paint the surface of your skin.

you shiver, placing your hand on top of his. “y-you said no touching.”

“i didn’t say anything about me touching you, did i?” he raises his brows at you. you bite your lip, feeling as if you could cry at just how worked up you were.

“now, answer my question.”

you let a shaky breath out. “i’m feeling frustrated.”

“awe, why?” he nibbles at your ear while cooing.

“you’re so mean, minnie.” you say softly, squeezing your legs together as you try to fight the throbbing pain in between.

“let’s set up a little scenario.” he starts, playing with the outline of his dick in his sweatpants, making your mouth water. “you want something really bad. but, you have to ask me for it. how would you say it?”

you let out a whine, quickly getting up from the couch.

seungmin places a firm grip onto your arm and pulls you down. you give him a shove, turning away from him.

he pins both of your hands down before grabbing your jaw and forcing you to look at him. “you are not giving up. you cried and cried about how much this meant to you and now you’re acting like a brat. how many times am i going to have to put you in your place before you realize that you don’t always get your way with me?”

you begin breathing quickly as your head spins.

he places a hand on your rising chest, looking into your eyes. “beg for it.”

you open your mouth to speak, only to be cut off by a moan slipping out. you look down to see seungmin’s knee firmly pressed against your thinly clothed core and grinding.

you look up to him, panting. he cocks an eyebrow as he waits for your answer.

“i-i need you, p-please.” you swallow and release a shaky and desperate breath. “i need you so bad.”

“oh.” he coos. “would you look at that? struggling to make simple conversation, but you sure know how to beg, don’t you?” he places a firm slap on your thigh, causing you to cry out.

“so nasty and desperate all of the time, aren’t you?” he says, yanking your pajama shorts off.

one less layer made you realize just how wet you were. if only seungmin could be as easy as you were. one look at your swollen and eager sex would have him practically clawing at you. his lips would be on yours while his cock was stuffed inside of you, filling and stretching out your warm walls.

the sting of another slap causes you to snap away from your heavenly thoughts and moan, this time right on your pussy.

“i asked you a question.” he snaps.

you take a moment, truly trying to remember what.

“y-yes, seungmin.” you whine. “so nasty, just for you.”

you lean in to kiss him, only for him to stop you with two single fingers against your lips. you pout.

“what did you do to deserve your kiss?” he looks down at you as he speaks.

“i’ve been good. so, so good.” you grab onto his torso desperately, pulling him closer.

he scoffs before pushing your hands off of him.

“seungmin!” you whine, arching your back as you try to get some relief.

he grabs your face firmly, squishing your cheeks together as he does. “all you do is bitch and complain. why don’t you put that mouth to good use for once?”

before you could say anything, he re-positions you to your knees on the couch, quickly removing both pairs of bottoms he still had on.

you weren’t going to tell him that he was the one who was technically giving in. that he was the one who was giving into you. that you hadn’t gotten enough answers incorrect for him to even fully undress yet.

for once, you got the better of him. he couldn’t control himself over you.

but you couldn’t tell him that he lost. you needed him too bad to risk him realizing his mistake and making you wait even longer.

“stick your tongue out.” he speaks soft, yet firm.

you quickly oblige, putting the wet and soft muscle on full display for him. you bat your pretty lashes up at him, knowing how crazy it drove him.

he slaps his dick on it a couple of times, causing strings of your spit and his pre-cum to stick together. he hisses at the sinful sight.

he sticks his length in and pushes until he hits the back of your throat. you cough, trying to pull away.

“ah.” he holds you by the throat. “this is what you wanted. you don’t get to run from me.”

he teases you by continuing to dip in and out of your warm and soft throat. quick and deep touches to your uvula that causes you to gag before he pulls out again.

“tell me you who belong to.” he orders through gritted teeth.

you let out another gag as he pulls out. “you.” you say breathlessly.

“in korean.” he places his dick in your mouth again, making it to where you only had a few seconds in between to speak.

“i’m yours.” gag. “i belong.” gag. “to you.”

“yes you do.” he inserts himself fully, this time grabbing a handful of your hair before thrusting in and out quickly.

you choke as he fucks your throat at a rapid pace, feeling your slick pooling underneath you.

drool and mascara stain your oversized top as he continues his movements.

he rubs his palm over you throat, loving the feeling of his bulge through the skin.

you lose yourself to the feeling of slight oxygen restriction, the way he twitched and throbbed in your mouth, his strong grip on your face. there was no better feeling than being dominated by seungmin.

the trance like state you were in had you completely unaware that he was no longer in your mouth and that you were now lying on your back.

he quickly puts the both of you into the spooning position before lifting the leg of yours closest to him and running his two middle fingers up and down your drenched slit.

“m-minnie.” you say, eyes rolling back.

“should i give you the satisfaction?” he asks, teasingly. “you really didn’t work that hard today.”

you begin to bable incoherent words, far past the point of understanding and clearly deep in subspace.

he finally fulfills your craving as he leans down and captures your lips into a deep and passionate kiss.

you moan into his mouth.

his two digits make their way inside of your needy cunt, causing you to break the kiss as you sing in ecstasy.

there’s no preparation or warming up as he immediately pumps his fingers in and out of you, filling the room with the lewd sound of your squelching heat.

it reminds you of how shy you used to be with seungmin. how he had to create this slut that you’ve become. he likes to say it’s always been there and that he just brought it out of you, but it didn’t matter anymore.

this state of vulnerability would have your past self red in the face and full of embarrassment. the way you obey every command he has, fulfill any of his wishes, let him control you both mentally and physically.

it made you so hot for him.

you squeal as you feel the intense build up of an orgasm, grabbing onto his forearm as a way to ground yourself.

he removes his fingers and stands on his knees.

“n-no! minnie, minnie!” you claw at his arms, too desperate to notice that he’s actually just moving you onto your tummy.

he laughs like the little shit he is as he takes in your fucked out state all caused by him. he loves it too much.

he arches your back before lifting your ass up to him, rubbing the tip of his dick at your entrance.

you mindlessly grind against him, your eyes closed as you try to focus on your own pleasure.

“awe.” he coos, stroking your sweaty and tangled locks. “so needy. impatient.” he yanks a fistful of hair, causing your head to jerk back.

you moan loudly.

“you think you can fuck yourself the way i do? go ahead. show me.”

you whine like a bitch in heat before inserting his long length into you, sloppily circling your hips.

he laughs and shakes his head at your cute yet poor attempt to satisfy yourself.

he knew that he ruined you a long time ago. your vibrator would never be his tongue, your fingers would never be his, those flimsy and lifeless dildos would never hit every spot inside of you the way his dick did.

but it was adorable to watch you try.

"it's not easy, is it?" he asks.

“no.” you cry, genuine tears slipping past your lashline, making your cheeks a sticky and pink mess.

“i know it’s not, baby.” he says softly, placing his hands on your hips. “you require a lot to please. not just anyone can do it. not even you.”

you feel a shiver run up your spine at his words.

“why don’t you thank me, huh?” he wipes your pitiful tears before placing a gentle kiss on your cheek. “thank me for always being able to take care of you. being so good to you.”

“in korean?” you ask, grinding harder on his length.

“there you go. already catching on. so much smarter than you lead everyone to believe.” he massages the skin of your hips roughly, causing you to squeeze and contract on his cock.

“t-thank you so much. for always taking care of me. and treating me good.”

“good girl.” he whispers as he slowly begins to thrust in and out.

the feeling causes your mind to go blank as you take in the addictive sensation of his length brushing past every surface of your sensitive walls.

“keep going.”

“thank you for being so amazing. so handsome and smart. you’re- you’re the greatest i could ever have.”

you gasp as he snaps his hips into you, beginning his intense pounding as he grabs onto your hair once again.

“ah! y-yes, seungmin!” you cry out, grabbing onto the hand of his that was pressed into the couch.

all of his prior teasing made it to where you knew you weren’t going to last another second of him inside of you. he had just started, but you already felt your previously denied orgasm making a much stronger comeback.

“m-min, i’m gonna cum!” you scream, digging your nails into his skin.

“what do you say when you want something?” he responds breathlessly, feeling his peak approaching as well.

“please! please, please, please!”

he feels himself throb at you remembering to use korean without him asking.

“fuck, cum.” he demands.

stars cloud your vision as you release onto his hard cock, the screams and cries falling from your lips most likely being heard from planets away.

he spills inside of you with a groan, gently fucking you through your orgasm and allowing you to come back down.

you release a breath you didn’t know you were holding in.

“oh my god.” you say softly, closing your eyes as you exhale.

he flips you onto your back before cuddling up with you, peppering your face with kisses.

seungmin giggles against your skin. “that was pretty good, huh?”

you playfully glare at him.

“you know.” he starts, placing his chin on your chest as he looks up to you with his cute puppy eyes. “you sure knew a lot of what to say. i think you’re better than you give yourself credit for.”

“or maybe i’ve just studied things to say when you’re fucking me instead of the basics like i should be.” you respond with a smile.

he rolls his eyes, shaking his head.

he places a kiss onto your lips. this one different from the rest. soft and filled with love. you smile onto his lips.

“you really are more capable than you think. you just need to apply yourself more. i’m serious about not letting you give up.” he points at you, raising his brows.

“yeah, yeah. i know.” you lay his head back down. “korean lessons are over for the day. now it’s cuddle time.”

“same time tomorrow, though.” he says.

you cover his face with a pillow.

“i’m serious!” his muffled voice yells.

[bitchy-craft]

Robotic Affirming: Manifestation Methods

Hello and welcome to this new post of mine! I decided to make a new series, this time about manifesting methods. I hope you find this useful and enjoy.

Masterpost > Paid Readings > Subliminal Channel

What it is used for:

Robotic affirming is used for absolutely everything when it comes to manifesting. Whether you want to manifest love, language fluency, money, awards, anything you can think of. This method is often used for people who do not want to make manifesting difficult; because it isn't. And this method is a great example of how easy it can be.

Instructions:

1. Think of your affirmations

First start thinking about what you want to manifest, and what kind of affirmations you can use to embody your wishes. You don't need to think too deep about it, the moat basic and vague affirmations will work. Another tip would be to make short affirmations; robotic affirming is done without thinking too much about it, the more difficult an affirmation the more you need to think about it.

2. Repeat the affirmation(s)

Now repeat your affirmations over and over again. You can do so out loud or in your mind, and do it as often as you'd like. Personally I do it in the back of my mind when I am watching a movie or doing something else; because the affirmations I pick are short and easy, it is very efficient to put it in the back of my mind.

3. Don't visualise, don't do anything

The only thing you need to do is affirm. No thought behind it, no need to imagine yourself in that situation, no need to embrace what you could be feeling if it were happening already. Just affirm with no thought behind it; like a robot.

[wynnyfryd]

Trailer park Steve AU part 22

part 1 | part 21 | ao3

“…Go ahead,” he relents with a heavy sigh.

He turns the radio back on for background noise, and Robin launches herself into a breathless recap of every minute detail she’s ever learned about Eddie Munson. Genuinely impressive how quickly the words come out; Steve thinks that if her dream of becoming a linguistics researcher ever falls through, she’s got a bright future ahead of her as one of those speedreaders who rattle off the fine print at the end of pharmaceutical ads.

Warning: Discussion of Eddie Munson may cause nausea, heartburn, palpitations, sweaty armpits, and an inconveniently timed half-chub any time you use a pocket knife. Talk to your doctor to see if Discussion of Eddie Munson is right for you!

“Which brings us to tonight,” she’s saying when he zones back in. “Let’s examine the facts, shall we?”

“Must we?”

“Yes, we must.”

She makes a loose fist, lifting her pointer finger with an aggressive flourish to kick off her ‘list of reasons Eddie has a big, fat crush on you.’ “Fact number one: he was conveniently wearing a super nice outfit.”

“He said he ran out of laundry.”

“And we’re buying that?” she scoffs. Her middle finger springs up to join the first one. “Two: he was so disgustingly up in your personal space. Like, you really should have seen it; it was—”

Mwah. Mwah mwah mwah. “Yeah, I don’t need another demonstration.”

“Three” —there goes her ring finger— “he came to a movie rental store that you just so happen to work at and then left without renting a movie.”

“Because you did something to spook him!”

“Which brings me to my fourth and final point.” Her pinky lifts up to join the team, fingers spread wide like a paper fan, and she telescopes her arm to shove them back and forth under his nose until he goes a little cross-eyed and bitches about her distracting the driver.

“Cut it out! You want me to drive us into someone’s trash cans?”

“Wouldn’t be the first time.”

“Yeah, well I’m sending you the invoice when it scratches up the paint.”

She retreats to her side of the car, curling her back against the door and repeating, “My fourth and final point: I think he thinks we’re dating.”

“And? Everyone thinks we’re dating.”

“No, everyone wants us to be secretly dating,” she corrects. “But I’m pretty sure Eddie actually thinks I’m your girlfriend. You remember last week when you dropped me off at school?”

He does. Eddie had actually been there early for once; had been sitting on a bench out by the soccer fields, looking surly and half-asleep while he sucked down a cigarette. Hair all messed up by the wind. Looked kind of dangerous. Wild.

“He was, like, fully glaring at me when I walked into school that morning, and then he was super rude to me in band. Which, at the time, I was like, ‘oh, well I guess that’s just Eddie no one can ever tell what his mood’s gonna be like from day to day,’ but noo-o-ow…”

She starts squirming in her seat again, excitement overflowing as she finally cracks the case. “Now it all makes sense! Oh, my god! He totally hates me because he thinks we’re dating, and I’ll bet you anything he either didn’t know we work together or didn’t expect me to be there tonight and he totally, one hundred percent was there to flirt with you because he’s in lo—”

“Okay, Detective,” he cuts her off, because the tips of his ears are burning, and he doesn’t think he can handle her saying the L word out loud right now. “You’ve made your point, thank you.”

“Tell me I’m right.”

“Uh, no.”

“Come on.” She jabs at his side. “Tell me I’m right tell me I’m right tell me I’m—”

“—A fucking menace? Gladly.”

“Translation: I’m right and you’re mad about it,” she smirks, victorious.

Steve knocks his forehead against the wheel as he pulls up to her curb. “Why do I drive you places?”

“Because you love me." She flips her visor down to freshen up her lip balm, mumbling around the chapstick, "I’m adding Surly Best Friendlish to my list of fluencies; I think it'll really make my college applications pop."

"Yuh huh," Steve grumbles. The thought of Robin leaving for college always sits in his gut like raw bread dough — thick and heavy and gross, rising to form a swollen lump in his throat. "Didn't you already submit all of those?"

"Yes, I diiiid," she sings, shimmying her shoulders with pride. "Duke's gonna say yes, I just know it. Picture it with me: Robin L. Buckley," she gestures to an imagined marquee somewhere just beyond the windshield, "class of 1990."

Steve swallows the urge to be a sulky dick about it. "They'd be lucky to have you," he says quietly.

"Nope. No no, none of that. No moping." She tugs at his arm; links their elbows together. "You're not allowed to mope when we have a party to get ready for."

"No, you have a party to get ready for. I'm going home."

"Steeeve-uh!" Holy shit. He just had to be soulmates with the whiniest lesbian in a 500 mile radius, didn't he? "Come to the bonfire party with me!"

"Yeah, that's a no."

“It’ll be fun!"

It most certainly will not be. "You really want me to go freeze my ass off in the woods all night while a bunch of former classmates talk shit about me the second they think I'm out of earshot?" He's been to enough of his parents' 'networking events' over the years to know exactly how that'll go. A full night of subtly closed-off body language, smirking whispers and judgmental glances that dart away as soon as he meets them head on. Fuck that. "Thanks, but I'll pass."

He just wants to go home. Feels momentarily sick with the desire to drive himself to Loch Nora.

"What did I say about moping?" Robin asks. She shoves into his space, hugging his arm tighter and deploying her most lethal sad wet kitten face (and Steve doesn't even like cats; this shouldn't fucking work on him.) "Pleeeease," she begs. "Vickie's going to be there, and I could really use a friend."

"So ask a friend!"

"I am, dipshit!"

Oh, my god. Oh, my god. Goddamn this woman. Steve hangs his chin to his chest in defeat, notices the weird stain he got on his shirt during work. "I have some conditions," he concedes.

She throws her arms out wide. "Condition me, baby!"

"First— ew. Okay, I don't like that; don't call me baby." Yeesh, and furthermore, yuck. "First, I'm borrowing one of your shirts, and you're probably never getting it back."

"Understandable,” she nods as she gets out of the car. Steve follows her out, propping his elbows on the roof.

"Secondly,” he continues, “I'm getting very drunk at this stupid party, and you're figuring out how we get home."

She reaches out over the top of the car; gives his hand a quick squeeze when he puts it in hers. "That's three things," she says fondly, "but I can work with that."

—

part 23

tag list part 1 below the cut; comment if you'd like to be added tomorrow (not tagging ageless or under 21s unless we're mutuals or you let me know your age ✌️)

@a-little-unsteddie @ahsokatanoss @alyelf @anne-bennett-cosplayer @aol19 @awolfstudio @bambibiest @bananahoneycomb @bronwenmarie @cheonsazu @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @courtjestermunson @dauntlessdiva @dawners @dontwasteyourchances @eddie-munsons-missing-nipple @eriquin @estrellami-1 @fandomfix8 @griefabyss69 @grtwdsmwhr @hallucinatedjosten @hellion-child @hiimlevi @honoragreyskull @hotluncheddie @jackiemonroe5512 @kas-eddie-munson @littlebluejane @marvel-ous-m @melonmochi @messrs-weasley @milklechee @mrsjellymunson @mugloversonly @munsonslure @nburkhardt @nerdyglassescheeseychick @notsopersonalcharlie @novelnovella @nuggies4life @questionablequeeries @runninriot @silver-snaffles @singmeyoursimpsong @slowandsteddie @slutabed @slutforcoffein @solalasoforth @spookednsaucy