#english is easy so i can chill today

[falling-hand-in-unlovable-hand]

i think i'm gonna enjoy science this year

[br0kenangel]

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ 𓇼 ࣪ 𝐌𝐲 𝐝♡ve 𓈒ㅤׂㅤ⭒⠀

Pairing: Unhinged Aegon x Therapist Reader part 1

Summary: You never thought Aegon be like this. You though that he's probably like all the other rich kids who are only upset because daddy didn't given them money. But you couldn't have been more wrong...

˚꒰♡꒱‧ Hi there! Before you read this, you should know that English is not my first language. Hope you enjoy!

PART 2, PART 3, PART 4

He hadn't said a word since entering the room, only slouched low in his chair, his bloodshot eyes tracing patterns in the ceiling like he was watching something she couldn’t see. His bleach-blonde hair was messy, like he hadn't bothered to run a comb through it in days, and the bags under his eyes suggested he hadn’t slept in even longer.

The silence was unnerving, and she hated it. The ticking clock in the corner of the room sounded like gunfire in the stillness. She cleared her throat and tried to start professionally. "Aegon," she began, her voice soft but steady, "how are you feeling today?"

He chuckled—a low, grating sound that didn’t reach his eyes. "How am I feeling?" he repeated, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Isn't that a bit cliché? Isn’t that what all therapists ask? I’m not here for small talk, sweetheart."

The way he said sweetheart made her skin crawl. It wasn’t the word itself but the way it slithered off his tongue, sharp and mocking. She shifted in her seat, trying to maintain her calm. "I’m just trying to understand where you’re at. You don't have to say anything you don’t want to."

He smirked, a twisted, unsettling expression that seemed more like a grimace. "Oh, I bet you want to understand me. You think you're gonna fix me? Is that it? Make me better, turn me into a functioning little cog in this shitty world?"

There was an edge to his voice, something dangerous beneath the surface. His eyes were unfocused, distant, as though she wasn’t even there. Y/N felt a chill settle in her chest, but she pushed forward, reminding herself that this was just another patient. A deeply troubled one, yes, but still just a man. She was trained for this.

"I’m not here to fix you, Aegon," she replied carefully. "I’m here to listen and help if I can."

His head snapped toward her so quickly she flinched. He caught it, of course, and his grin widened, predatory now. "You’re scared of me, aren’t you?" he said softly, like he was sharing a secret. "Good. You should be."

Aegon leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees, staring at her with intensity that made her skin prickle. "You ever felt like nothing matters, doc? Like every fucking thing is just… pointless? No matter how much you drink, snort, or fuck, it never fills that hole inside you. It just… eats at you, every second of every day, until you can't take it anymore."

His voice was a low growl now, rough around the edges, filled with bitterness. "That's what it’s like in here." He tapped the side of his head, his gaze boring into her, daring her to look away. "Rotten. Empty. Dead. I tried to end it once, you know. Got close, too. But they wouldn’t even let me do that right. My family sent me to you instead. So now here I am, playing the part. But let’s be real—you can't fix this."

There was a rawness to his words that cut through her usual defenses. Y/N felt herself teetering on the edge of something she didn’t want to fall into. His pain was palpable, but it wasn’t the pain of someone who wanted to be saved.

"You don't have to believe in this process," she finally said, her voice tight. "But it’s important that you give it a chance."

Aegon tilted his head, studying her like she was some puzzle he couldn’t quite figure out. His eyes were glassy, unfocused again, and his smile faltered, giving way to something deeper, more sinister. "You’re not like the others," he muttered, almost to himself. "Most of them are easy to read. But you… I can't quite tell if you’re really here to help or if you just like playing the part."

Her heart skipped a beat at his words. There was something unnervingly perceptive about him. He wasn’t just a lost soul spiraling into self-destruction—he was calculating, watching her reactions, testing her boundaries. And it was working. She didn’t like how vulnerable she felt under his gaze.

Y/N straightened in her chair, trying to regain control of the conversation. "I’m here to help, Aegon. That’s my job."

He scoffed, leaning back again, dismissive. "Help," he repeated bitterly. "You wanna help? You can't even help yourself."

His words hit harder than she expected, striking at something deep inside her, and for a moment, she faltered. She wasn’t prepared for how sharp he was, how quickly he cut through her professional veneer. There was something primal in the way he spoke, in the way he moved, that felt less like therapy and more like a predator playing with his prey.

"You look tired," he continued, eyes narrowing. "Overworked. You got that hollow look in your eyes, too. Like me. How long before you break, huh? How long before you’re the one on the other side of this desk?"

Her breath hitched slightly, and Aegon’s smile grew wider, more triumphant. He leaned in close, his voice a low whisper that sent chills down her spine. "Maybe we’re not so different after all, doc. Maybe you’re just as fucked up as I am."

Y/N’s hand trembled, and she clenched it into a fist, trying to steady herself. She needed to end this session—now. But she couldn’t show weakness. Not to him. "Our time is almost up," she said, her voice firmer than she felt. "We’ll continue this next week."

She checked the clock. He was due in ten minutes.

Her hand brushed the edge of her desk, fingers drumming a quiet, nervous rhythm. She told herself it would be fine. She had control. This was her space, her field. But the knot in her stomach tightened with every second that passed.

A knock on the door broke the silence. Her heart leapt in her chest.

"Come in" she called, trying to keep her voice steady.

The door swung open, and there he was, leaning casually against the frame, eyes half-lidded like he couldn't be bothered to care about anything. Aegon strolled into the room with an easy arrogance, tossing himself into the chair like he owned the place. He wore the same leather jacket from last week, cigarette burns dotting its sleeve, his jeans ripped and filthy. His disheveled blonde hair caught the afternoon light, giving him an almost angelic glow, which was disturbingly ironic.

"Doc" he greeted, his voice slick and lazy. "Miss me?"

Y/N forced herself to meet his gaze. "Aegon," she said calmly, ignoring his provocations. "How are you feeling today?"

He chuckled, a low sound that rumbled through the room. "Oh, I'm fantastic. Just spent the last few hours getting plastered. Wanna guess how much vodka it takes before you stop feeling like your head is caving in?"

She hesitated. "Did you... did you drink before coming here?"

Aegon gave her a crooked smile, his eyes gleaming with something dark. "Nah, don't worry, sweetheart. I'm sober enough to remember your name. For now."

He leaned forward in his seat, resting his elbows on his knees, eyes never leaving hers. "But seriously, let's cut the bullshit. You're not here to ask me how I'm doing. You're here to dissect me, right? Get inside my head. See what makes the fucked-up bitch tick."

Y/N's throat tightened at the way he said bitch-dripping with disdain, self-hatred. His family, the Targaryens, were a wealthy, powerful lineage, tied up politics and scandal. She'd heard the rumors: how Aegon was the black sheep, a public embarrassment, the one they all whispered about behind closed doors. It wasn't hard to see why.

"I'm here to help," she said, trying to regain control of the session. "But that only works if you're willing to engage with the process."

His smirk widened. "You think l'm not engaging? l'm sitting right here, aren't I?" He paused, his gaze growing more intense. "Unless what you really want is for me to spill my guts to you. You want to know what makes me tick, doc? Fine. Let me tell you."

There was something unsettling about the way he shifted in his chair, like a predator getting comfortable before striking. His smile faded, replaced with a cold, hollow expression that sent a shiver down her spine.

"I hate everything," he began, his voice flat, detached. "I hate waking up. I hate breathing. I hate the sound of my own fucking voice. I hate this-" He gestured around the room, his fingers trembling slightly."一all this therapy bullshit. I hate my family. I hate the way they look at me like l'm some broken toy they can't fix."

He leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. "But you know what I really hate? The fact that no matter what I do, nothing makes me feel alive. Drugs? Alcohol? Sex? It's just noise. All of it. And I'm so fucking tired of feeling empty."

His words hung in the air like smoke, choking the room. Y/N felt the urge to recoil, to put some distance between them, but she couldn't. There was something magnetic about him, a dark pull that made it hard to look away.

"You think I want to be here?" he continued, his eyes burning with intensity. "My family dragged me to this fucking place because I tried to put a bullet in my brain last month. They thought therapy would 'fix' me. But they don't get it. They never did."

He leaned back, letting out a bitter laugh. "But you know what's funny? Sitting here, looking at you, I almost want to believe it. l almost want to see if you can figure me out, doc. Maybe you'll crack the code."

His eyes bored into hers, and for a split second, Y/N swore she saw something vulnerable flicker behind the mask- something raw and desperate. But it was gone as quickly as it appeared, replaced by his usual cold sneer.

"You think you can handle that?" he asked softly. "Think you can fix someone who doesn't want to be fixed?"

Y/N's grip on her pen tightened. Her throat felt dry, her palms clammy. There was no easy answer to his question, no textbook response to the way he twisted everything around him into chaos. But she knew one thing-Aegon wasn't just here to be saved. He was here to test her, to see how far he could push before she cracked.

"l'm not here to fix you, Aegon,' she said, repeating her earlier sentiment. "But I am here to listen. To understand."

He snorted, shaking his head. "Listen to what? My sob story? Poor little rich boy, drinking and fucking his way through life, all because he's sad? You really think there's anything left to understand?"

Y/N met his gaze head-on, refusing to flinch. "I think there's more to you than what you're showing me."

Aegon went still, his smirk vanishing as his eyes locked onto hers. For a moment, it felt like the room shrank, the walls closing in, leaving just the two of them in an uncomfortable silence. He stared at her, unblinking, and she could feel the weight of his scrutiny, like he was peeling back layers she didn't even know existed.

"You really believe that?" he asked quietly, his voice soft for the first time since he walked in. "That there's something worth saving?"

Her chest tightened, but she nodded. "I do."

Aegon let out a shaky breath, his fingers curling into fists. His eyes darted to the floor, and for a split second, he looked vulnerable, lost, like a boy drowning in a sea of emotions he couldn't control.

But then the mask was back. The smirk. The mocking tone. "Well, doc" he said, standing up suddenly, towering over her. "I guess we'll see, won't we?"

He turned on his heel and strode toward the door, his movements confident and careless, as though he hadn't just let her glimpse the broken pieces hidden beneath the surface.

Just before he stepped out, he paused, glancing back at her. "I'll be seeing you again, doc. And maybe next time, we'll get to the fun stuff."

The door clicked shut behind him, leaving Y/N alone in the room with the heavy silence that always followed him. She let out a breath she didn't realize she'd been holding, her heart pounding in her chest.

There was something deeply unsettling about Aegon一something that made her feel like she was in way over her head.

The third session was different. The air in Y/N’s office felt heavier, thicker. She could sense it the moment Aegon walked in. His eyes, normally sharp with that mocking edge, were duller today. His movements more erratic. The usual arrogant saunter was replaced by something twitchy, unstable. He slouched into his chair, tapping his leg rapidly, the rhythm almost frantic.

His fingers moved to his mouth, picking at his nails, tearing at the skin until she saw faint streaks of red. He didn’t seem to notice. Or care.

“Good morning, Aegon,” Y/N began cautiously, watching him closely. “How are you today?”

He snorted but didn’t look at her, his eyes darting around the room like he was searching for something he’d never find. “How do you think I’m feeling?” he muttered, biting down hard on the side of his nail until it cracked and blood welled up.

Y/N felt her stomach twist, but she kept her voice steady. “It seems like you’re on edge today. Do you want to talk about it?”

He didn’t answer immediately. His leg tapped faster, his jaw tight. “Does it even fucking matter?” he muttered under his breath. His hands trembled slightly as he dug his nails into his palms, leaving angry red marks. "None of this shit matters. Not you, not me. It’s all just... noise."

She stayed silent, giving him space to speak, watching his body language as the tension in the room escalated. He was unraveling, fraying at the edges, and it was becoming harder to predict where he might break.

“I keep thinking about that night,” he said suddenly, his voice hollow. “That night I almost did it.”

He didn’t need to explain further; she knew what he meant. The night he tried to take his own life.

“I was this close, you know?” he continued, holding his fingers up to show just how narrow the gap was between life and death. “But then my fucking family showed up and ruined it. Dragged me out of my misery and threw me into this shitshow. Therapy, rehab, whatever else they think will fix me. But nothing’s going to fix me. I’m not broken. I’m just done.”

Y/N swallowed, choosing her words carefully. “Aegon, I know you’re in pain. But there are other ways to cope. You don’t have to do this alone.”

He snapped his gaze to hers, a sudden wildness flashing in his eyes. “You don’t get it, do you? None of this is about pain. It’s about being fucking empty. Do you know what that feels like? To be so hollow inside that no amount of drugs, booze, or people can fill it?”

She blinked, caught off guard by the rawness in his voice. “I don’t,” she admitted, her voice softer than she intended. “But I’m here to understand. If you’ll let me.”

Aegon’s laughter was bitter, almost manic. “Understand? You think you can understand me? No one understands. Everyone thinks I’m some tragic fucking mess just because I have money and a pretty face, but that’s why they keep coming back, isn’t it? They don’t care if I’m broken. They care because I’m rich, because I’m still good-looking enough for them to pretend for a night that I’m something more.”

He paused, his leg still bouncing, eyes narrowed and locked on hers with unsettling intensity. “Even you. You sit there, all composed and professional, pretending to care. But deep down, I know you don’t. You’re just waiting for your paycheck like the rest of them.”

Y/N frowned. “That’s not true, Aegon. I’m here because I want to help.”

He leaned forward abruptly, his eyes wild and feverish. “You don’t get it, do you? None of this matters! You can’t help me, no one can, and I’m so fucking tired of everyone pretending that you can!”

The energy in the room shifted abruptly. His voice rose, turning sharp and angry, his breathing quickening. She could see him unraveling, could feel the way his entire demeanor was changing—darker, more dangerous.

“I’m not some fucking experiment!” he screamed, his voice cracking as he stood up from his chair so suddenly that it toppled over. “You think you’re better than me, don’t you? Sitting there with your calm face, acting like you’re not fucking scared of me. But I can see it, I can feel it—”

“Aegon, calm down,” Y/N said, her heart racing, hands instinctively tightening around the arms of her chair. “I’m not trying to control you.”

But her words seemed to push him further over the edge. His face twisted with rage, and before she could react, he lunged toward her, grabbing her by the shoulders, his grip almost painful.

“You think you know me?” he shouted, his face inches from hers, tears welling in his eyes. “You think you can fix me? You think you can save me from this hell?”

His grip tightened, shaking her, but before Y/N could register her own fear, something inside her snapped—an instinct she hadn’t known she had. Instead of pulling away, instead of screaming or trying to push him off, she reached out and pulled him into an embrace.

Aegon froze.

She wrapped her arms around him, holding him tightly despite the tremor in her own hands, despite the rapid pounding of her heart. “Aegon,” she whispered, her voice steady even though she felt anything but. “It’s okay. You’re okay.”

For a moment, he stood there, tense and unresponsive. His body was rigid, his breathing erratic, and she could feel the anger vibrating through him, threatening to explode again. But then, slowly, something shifted. His hands, which had been gripping her shoulders so tightly, loosened. His body sagged against hers, like all the fight had drained out of him in one overwhelming rush.

“I’m not okay,” he whispered, his voice breaking. “I’m so fucked up, and I don’t know how to stop it.”

Y/N tightened her arms around him, feeling his hot, uneven breath against her neck. “You don’t have to stop it alone.”

He let out a choked sob, his body trembling against hers as he broke down, the tears he had been holding back spilling over. He clung to her like a lifeline, his face buried in her shoulder, his breath hitching with each quiet, painful sob.

“I don’t want to be like this,” he whispered, his voice hoarse and broken. “I don’t want to feel this way anymore.”

Y/N held him, her own emotions swirling inside her, a mixture of fear, pity, and something else she couldn’t quite name. She stroked his back gently, trying to soothe the storm inside him. “I know,” she whispered. “I know you don’t.”

Aegon’s sobs quieted after a while, his grip on her softening but never letting go completely. He pressed his face into her shoulder, his breathing still uneven, but calmer now. The anger and violence had passed, leaving only the raw, vulnerable boy beneath.

They stayed like that for what felt like hours—Aegon clinging to her, and Y/N holding him as if her arms were the only thing tethering him to the world.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, he pulled back slightly, just enough to look at her. His eyes were red and swollen, his face streaked with tears, and for the first time since they met, she saw him without the mask.

Aegon was broken, but not in the way he pretended to be. Not just a reckless addict or a wealthy, self-destructive mess. He was something else, something much more fragile than she had imagined.

And that scared her more than anything.

He swallowed hard, his voice a quiet rasp. “W-why did you do that?”

Y/N met his gaze, unsure how to answer. She didn’t know why. It was instinct, something she hadn’t planned, something that felt both right and terribly dangerous at the same time.

“Because I wanted to,” she said softly.

Aegon stared at her for a long moment, his eyes searching hers like he was trying to find something—some kind of answer, some kind of reassurance that she wouldn’t leave him like everyone else had.

Finally, he nodded, and without another word, he leaned back into her embrace, resting his head on her shoulder, his breathing evening out as they sat there, together in the quiet, broken pieces of their shared moment.

And for the first time, Y/N wasn’t sure if she was the one trying to save him—or if he was dragging her into the darkness with him.

The room was eerily silent when Aegon walked in this time. The familiar twitch in his leg was absent, the nervous energy that usually radiated off him replaced with something else—something that made Y/N’s skin prickle. His eyes were still as sharp as ever, but now they were focused. Too focused. He looked at her with an intensity that felt almost suffocating.

He sat down slowly, his movements no longer erratic but deliberate. He didn’t fidget, didn’t bite at his nails. Instead, he folded his hands neatly in his lap and leaned back in the chair, his eyes never leaving her face.

“Good morning, Aegon,” she greeted him cautiously, sensing the shift in his demeanor.

“Morning,” he replied, his voice smoother than she was used to. Calm, almost unnervingly so. He looked... composed. For the first time since they started these sessions, he didn’t seem like a bomb waiting to go off. But something about that felt even more dangerous.

“How are you feeling today?” she asked, trying to keep her voice steady.

He tilted his head slightly, his gaze still locked on hers. “Better,” he said softly. “Much better, actually.”

Y/N hesitated. “That’s good to hear. Do you want to talk about what’s been helping?”

Aegon smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “I’ve found a new hobby,” he said, his voice almost too casual, like he was talking about something mundane. “Something to keep me... occupied.”

A ripple of unease washed over her. “What kind of hobby?”

Aegon nodded, his eyes gleaming with an odd sort of excitement. “I found this beautiful dove. Just… sitting there, all alone. She's perfect. White feathers, soft. You ever touch a dove before?”

“No,” Y/N said slowly, her stomach beginning to churn.

Aegon’s smile widened. “You should. They’re so fragile, you know? So delicate. It’s like… like holding something that could break if you squeeze too hard.” His fingers twitched, as if mimicking the act of squeezing. “I’ve been taking care of her. Watching her.”

Y/N nodded slowly, unsure where this was going but feeling an icy tendril of dread curl around her spine. “That sounds nice. Taking care of something can be a good way to—”

“I want to rip her wings off.”

Her breath caught in her throat, the casual cruelty in his tone sending a chill down her spine. Aegon’s expression hadn’t changed; he still wore that same unsettling smile.

Y/N’s heart skipped a beat. “What?”

His eyes were bright now, shining with an eerie intensity. “Yeah. I’ve been thinking about it a lot. About how beautiful she is, but how much better it would be if she couldn’t fly away. If I could keep her with me, forever. If she couldn’t go anywhere else, just… mine.”

Y/N felt the bile rising in her throat, but she swallowed it down, keeping her voice steady. “Aegon, that’s—”

“Isn’t that what love is?” he interrupted, his eyes wide, his expression so sincere, so disturbingly genuine. “You love something so much that you can’t stand the thought of it leaving. So you do whatever you have to, to make sure it stays. Even if that means taking something away. Like wings.”

“Aegon, that’s not—”

“But it makes sense, doesn’t it?” he continued, his voice rising slightly with excitement, as if he had stumbled upon some great revelation. “Why should something so beautiful get to leave? Why should she get to fly away and leave me behind? She doesn’t need wings. She just needs me.”

Y/N felt the room closing in around her, her heartbeat echoing in her ears. She had dealt with disturbed patients before, but this… this was different. Aegon wasn’t just unstable. He was dangerous. She could feel it in the air, in the way his gaze bore into her, in the way his words seemed to twist around her, suffocating her.

It had been two weeks since that conversation in her office, and Aegon had come to every session since. Something had shifted after that day—something subtle but unnerving.

The way he looked at her now, the way he lingered on her every movement, made Y/N feel more vulnerable than ever before.

“Morning, Aegon,” Y/N said, her voice steady but her pulse quickening slightly. She had grown used to reading him in subtle ways—the tension in his jaw, the way his fingers would twitch against his leg, and that obsessive stare. But today, it felt heavier.

“Morning sweetheart,” he replied smoothly, his voice quiet but deliberate.

Y/N tried to proceed with the session as usual, asking him questions, probing his thoughts, but his answers were vague, almost detached, as if he wasn’t really interested in discussing himself anymore. He wasn’t playing the part of the tragic, self-destructive mess. He was... different.

“You seem a little more composed today,” Y/N commented, keeping her tone neutral. “How are you feeling about everything? Still feeling as empty as before?”

Aegon’s lips twitched into a small smile, one that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Empty? No, not so much anymore.” His gaze was fixed on her in a way that made the room feel smaller. “I’ve been... paying attention to other things lately. Other people.”

Y/N’s heart skipped a beat. “Other people? What do you mean?”

He leaned back in his chair, his eyes still glued to hers, but his body language more relaxed than usual. “You know, the people around me. The ones who matter. The ones who actually care.”

There was an implication in his words that sent a shiver down her spine. “And who do you think cares, Aegon?”

His smile widened, but it was the kind of smile that felt wrong, too intimate. “You do.”

Y/N blinked, trying to maintain her composure. She had to remind herself that she was the professional here, that this was her job, and she couldn’t let him get under her skin. But the way he was looking at her made it hard to breathe.

“I’m here to help you, yes,” she replied calmly. “That’s what therapy is about.”

He tilted his head slightly, his eyes narrowing as if he were studying her. “That’s not what I mean.” His voice was soft, almost a whisper, but it was enough to make her pulse quicken again. “You care about me... in a different way.”

Y/N felt her skin prickle with unease. She forced herself to remain professional, to push through the growing discomfort. “Aegon, we’ve talked about this before. My role is to help you as your therapist. Nothing more.”

His smile didn’t falter. “You keep saying that, but we both know there’s more to it. I can see the way you look at me now. You’re not scared anymore. What you said. How you held me. I’ve been thinking about it a lot. You care.”

“I’m here to help,” she repeated firmly, though her voice wavered slightly.

Aegon didn’t say anything for a moment. He just watched her, his eyes tracking every movement, every flicker of emotion on her face. It was like he was dissecting her with his gaze, trying to pick her apart piece by piece.

Finally, he leaned forward slightly, his smile fading into something more serious. “You looked really good last night, by the way.”

Y/N’s breath hitched. “What?”

“In your pajamas,” he added, his voice casual, as if he were commenting on the weather. “The ones you wore when you made tea. Light blue, with the little lace trim. You really should wear those more often.”

For a moment, the world around her went silent. All she could hear was the sound of her own heartbeat thundering in her ears. Aegon was staring at her, unblinking, his expression disturbingly calm, like he had just complimented her on her shoes or her hair.

Her mind raced. How did he know? There was no way he could have seen her last night. Her apartment was on the third floor, and she lived alone. She had made tea before bed, just like every night, but how could he possibly know that?

“Aegon,” she began, her voice trembling despite her best efforts to keep it steady. “What... what do you mean?”

He just smiled, that same disturbing smile that never quite reached his eyes. “I just think you looked nice, that’s all.”

The room felt like it was closing in on her, her skin crawling with the weight of his words. Her mind reeled, her heart hammering in her chest. How did he know what I was wearing last night?

Her breath came in shallow gasps, the panic rising in her throat as she tried to process the implications. Had he been watching her? Was he following her outside of their sessions? The thought sent a wave of nausea through her.

“Aegon,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “What are you talking about?”

But before he could answer, the soft chime of the clock signaled the end of their session. Aegon stood up slowly, his movements deliberate, as if he had all the time in the world. He stretched, glancing at her with that same unsettling smile, and then made his way to the door.

“I guess we’ll have to pick this up next time,” he said casually, as if they had been discussing nothing more than the weather.

He paused at the door, turning back to look at her one last time, his eyes lingering on her with that same unnerving intensity. “See you soon, Y/N.”

And then he was gone, leaving Y/N alone in the room, her heart racing, her mind spinning with fear and uncertainty.

The door clicked shut behind him, and for a long moment, she couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe. The air felt thick, suffocating, as the weight of his words sank in.

He was watching me.

@ 𝒃𝒓𝒐𝒌𝒆𝒏𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒍 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒. 𝒅𝒐𝒏'𝒕 𝒄𝒐𝒑𝒚, 𝒓𝒆𝒑𝒐𝒔𝒕 𝒐𝒓 𝒕𝒓𝒂𝒏𝒔𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒆 𝒂𝒏𝒚 𝒐𝒇 𝒎𝒚 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒌𝒔 𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒐𝒓 𝒂𝒏𝒚 𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒘𝒆𝒃𝒔𝒊𝒕𝒆𝒔.

[alessiamalfoyzabini]

𝐇𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐲 𝐄𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 | 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐎𝐧𝐞

Pairing | Yandere Jungkook x Reader

Word Count | 2,382

Warnings | +18, bullying, for the moment only this

This does not reflect my way of thinking or living at all, it is just a work of fiction, it is like watching a horror movie, many of us love horror movies, but we would never dream of what we see in those movies happening in reality as well.

Simply put, this story was written for entertainment purposes, it should not be seen as a reflection of my values, opinions or morals. I absolutely do not condone such acts.

⤷ Summary | If she had paid attention earlier to the sin that dwelt behind those obsidian irises, she would never have trusted it.

If she had noticed earlier the devouring love that dwelled in his corrupt heart, she probably would have fled.

She had done none of that, and now she had to come to terms with her new reality.

➢ Author's Note | This work originated in Italian, so i apologize for any errors you will find, i am not a native english speaker, so go ahead and write in the comments where and what i can improve! 🥺❤

Chapter List - I - II - III - IV - V - VI - VII - VIII / The End

There was something in the air that day, something that weighed down her chest and left a bitter aftertaste in her mouth.

She looked outside her room and saw large gray clouds looming ominously, it was probably an approaching storm, and even so, she would still have to go to school, she could not escape her school obligations.

She had done so much to escape the harsh judgment of her family members, she knew that attending college was a huge expense for her parents, especially for being an out-of-towner with so much rent and bills to pay, so the only thing she could do to repay them was to get good grades and come out with a more than excellent GPA, without mentioning her problems.

So the girl prepared herself for yet another stressful and gloomy day, surrounded by prof's coaches and daddy's boys who wouldn't stop bragging about their possessions for a moment.

She adjusted her jacket and grabbed the bag containing all the necessary books, grabbed the house keys on the fly and locked the door behind her, not before nodding in the direction of the elderly neighbor who came out with her adorable little wagging dog every morning at that hour.The little Maltese barked in her direction and with a smile walked over to the couple, stroking the soft coat of the dog who, excited, hoisted himself up on two paws, accompanying her caresses with his head. Y/N burst out laughing at that warm expression of appreciation, could it be that only a dog was able to accept it without judgment?

"Do you go to school, Y/N?" asked the lady with a smile.

The girl nodded, "That's right, Mrs. Choi...I have a test today, I hope everything goes well."

"Oh, take it easy, my dear. I really feel that something new will happen for you today," the elderly woman's smile widened and Y/N was interjected.

She was no stranger to the strange outings of the woman, who very often seemed absent-minded and pensive, but a strange chill caught her. She tried to dilute the air with a giggle, "I hope it's also something good," she joked lightly, the woman rippled her lips.

"It depends on your point of view," she shrugged.

Y/N's smile faded away, not wanting to inquire further she decided it was getting quite late and waved a little awkwardly to her wacky neighbor, giving one last caress to the little dog, who continued to bark in her direction, trying to call her back.

"Come on, Y/N...you can get through this day too without too many hiccups," she said to herself, trying to mentally build up her courage. She arrived at the university with a lump in her throat, aware that once she entered the classroom she would see the haughty faces of her classmates again.

She was an outcast and the only classmate with whom she had come to form a decent bond of friendship had to change her address because that faculty was not suitable for her. But to say that she had simply grown tired of being bullied was perhaps easier.

She took a deep breath and entered the classroom, as she presaged, smiles filled with mockery accompanied her all the way to her seat, she took out the appropriate book for that hour of class and ignored everyone, no one however lent her a further glance, the arrival of the teacher had nipped in the bud any attempt at mockery.

Taking a test at the first hour was never easy for anyone, but the girl more than gladly accepted that chance to escape her foolish classmates.

She carried out the task in complete silence, interrupted only briefly by a few balls of paper and notes, some asking her to have her copied, others admonishing her not to sully their own air with her presence. Y/N swallowed, such doggedness seen from an outside eye might have seemed surreal, but to her it was normalcy.

They bothered her just for the sake of it, because she was the one without money, she was the unfashionable girl, she lived in a miserable apartment in a miserable neighborhood, she was everything they were not.

"Psst... Psst, little one!"

Y/N initially ignored that low whisper, but at yet another ball thrown at her head, she turned away in annoyance.

This was Kang Yoozu, one of the boys who worked hardest to make her school life a living hell; he seemed to take pleasure in constant torture and Y/N was often one of his favorite victims.

"What the hell do you want?!" she growled, impatient. He shrugged, "I just wanted to ask you if you were free later."

Y/N frowned, what was that jerk saying?

"Why would you care, Yoozu?" she asked, strangled.

A wicked smile spread across the classmate's face, "Your parents are street food vendors, right? How much can they possibly make per month?"

Y/N found herself gritting her teeth, ignoring the amused exclamations of the others; the professor seemed to have disappeared into thin air, which frustrated the girl even more.

"I don't know what you're getting at, but I suggest you shut your mouth," she said harshly and Yoozu's eyes narrowed.

"I'm just wondering how they were keep you, don't you think it's incumbent on them to lighten their load and earn money in other ways?"

The young woman blanched at the outrageous statement-what the fuck was she implying?! "And let's hear it-what would those ways be?" she rose from her chair under everyone's gaze.

Yoozu looked around with feigned interest, then elbowed his seatmate, chuckling.

"Well, I have a lot of money, a fuck or two wouldn't hurt, don't you think? You would earn honestly on your own strength," the whole class erupted in convulsive laughter, Y/N felt humiliated. She had endured much from them, had swallowed a myriad of bitter morsels, but no, that one would not let her get away with it.

In a very brief instant she found herself facing the smug boy who stared at her with satisfaction, and soon the scarlet shape of five perfectly outlined fingers was stamped on the candid face of that being, a being who for two years had made it unbearable for her to study for a better future. The noise was a dull pop and everyone fell silent.

Yoozu's eyes turned icy, and soon he jerked up from his chair, flipping it behind him.

"You dared too much, beggar" he made to approach threateningly, no one would intervene, she knew, but fortunately the professor's voice stopped whatever was about to happen.

"What the heck is going on in this class? Y/N! Yoozu! Go back to your seats immediately before I suspend your test."

The man's threatening voice made the boy take a step back, Y/N went back to her seat, but she felt the threatening gaze of her companion behind her the rest of the time, until the end of the hour sounded and everyone got up to leave their verifications on the professor's desk, who collected all the papers and added something to the register, which Y/N guessed was about her and Yoozu. A sick feeling invaded her stomach, she did not want her average to drop because of a bastard like Kang Yoozu, he had practically invited her to prostitute herself. With him.

Disgusted she took the art sketchbook from her bag, a small smile was born on her lips.

Classes with Professor Jeon always gave her a chance to get through the day in a slightly more uplifted mood.

He was a young boy ready to put himself on the front lines to help his students, older than her by five years, he had found a place in the university where he had studied because all the school staff thought he was deserving of getting a professorship there. And, Y/N admitted at least to herself, he was handsome as well as kind and helpful. She felt her heartbeat increase when her favorite professor made his entrance into the classroom, greeting all his pupils with a bright smile, exchanged a few words with the older professor who gave way to him, and during that conversation the girl clearly heard the excited murmurs of her classmates. They did not think much about it, giving vent to their shamelessly enamored sighs.

Y/N merely shrugged her shoulders as the young professor took a seat behind the desk and gave everyone a jovial look.

"Good morning, guys" he said quietly, a chorus of "good morning" and "hello" rose from the desks.

Y/N watched spellbound as the corner of his lips slightly lifted in a satisfied smile of the man, her professor's long hair that day was tied in a ponytail that the girl found damn adorable, which contrasted with the tattoos that decorated the entire arm left uncovered by the pulled-up shirt sleeve, the man crossed his arms and his biceps swelled in a hypnotic movement that caught the girl unprepared, she felt her body set on fire and with shame removed her gaze.

What she did not know was that Jungkook was also watching her. He never let her out of his sight, in truth.

From the first time he had caught her rushing into the classroom, wet as a tender chick, Jungkook could not help but feel a strange flutter every time he laid eyes on his pupil. Their eyes had met for the first time that day, a rush had gone through him from side to side, thunderstruck by that little figure who had bowed in apology over and over again.

And it was wrong, he should never have taken an interest in one of his students like that, but he was a man, a man with secret feelings and appetites, and everything about Y/N screamed timidity and fragility.

He wanted to protect her, wanted to take her away, wanted to make her his.

He knew about the way her classmates treated her, his colleagues sometimes talked about it during lunch breaks, this was terrible for him, it hurt him to even imagine the way the girl felt, he would have protected her if it was possible, but each time the bullying happened in his absence, and as a professor he could do nothing if Y/N herself did not ask for help. He could not punish the perpetrators without catching them in the act. The young man sighed, before lowering his eyes to the register, frowning at what he found written there.

"Park Y/N and Kang Yoozu were found standing during testing time, they looked like they were about to start a fight, I intervened in time to put them in their place."

Jungkook gritted his teeth as he read his student's name next to Y/N's.

The girl was too quiet a person to provoke a quarrel, his dark irises stopped on Yoozu, who was giggling along with his partner as his scribbled something in sketchbook.

Y/N, on the other hand, waited quietly and composedly for her class to begin, and that told Jungkook a lot about the dynamics of the strange event described by his colleague.

He rose from his chair clearing his throat, all eyes were soon on him.

He sensed the mischievous glances of the girls in his direction, he knew he was very much desired, after all he was the only young professor in the institution, but he did not let those attentions buy him, the only gaze he wanted on himself was that of the same girl who was anxiously crushing her fingers.

He leaned back against the desk, crossing his arms again, and in Y/N's gaze he read something very much like... desire? He looked at her, biting his lips for a thousandth of a second, clenching the tender flesh between his teeth, but that minimal amount of time was enough for the girl to widen her eyes and lower them immediately afterward, her cheeks flushed. Jungkook felt himself tightening in his pants, thinking that he was so adorable that he wanted to fuck her right then, in front of everyone.

He would have gladly made her cry as his cock penetrated her deeply.

"Guys, today I'm not going to talk to you about history and artists," he began, his voice crystal clear and smooth, "But about a subject that, unfortunately, will never stop being talked about," he paused behind Yoozu's desk.

He observed the lines drawn by the boy on the once-clean page, Yoozu made to cover his scrawl, but Jungkook was quick to catch him, "Let me see a bit, Kang," he said, before taking a better look at that jumble of shapeless lines, which took on the appearance of a naked girl with a tear-streaked face, there was a uniform at the corner of the paper and a bag, which Jungkook immediately recognized, raised an eyebrow in the boy's direction and returned the object to him, not without first tearing up the page, "Drawing your companions without clothes is not what I asked you to do, Yoozu.

Employ my hour to draw something in good taste, instead of indulging in such disgusting antics," the man scolded him harshly. The student bowed his head, humiliated, apologetically, and his deskmate turned away, as if to put some distance between himself and his friend, which the teacher laughed at internally. It was precisely people like Yoozu who had no friends.

Jungkook finally turned around and walked in Y/N's direction, stopped just behind her and lowered himself until he reached her ear, "Today's lesson is about bullying," he murmured, the girl felt her legs trembling under his low and sweet tone, she meekly nodded, writing on a vacant page the theme, then Jungkook raised his voice slightly, "I would like you all to draw a representation of bullying, also writing a small dedication to the kids who experience it firsthand."

When the young teacher turned away from her, Y/N resumed breathing normally.

Everyone caught the stinging reference, the girl gazed admiringly at Jungkook's strong shoulders, perfectly aligned in a proud posture that Y/N had no trouble finding attractive, clutched the pencil grip and set to work, unaware of the forbidden desire she aroused moment by moment in her teacher.

[ilys00ga]

life after his enlistment.

pairing: yoongi x reader

synopsis: how life/the relationship was like after he enlisted.

genre: fluff, established relationship, yoongi enlisted, they are trying their best, idk if I should call it angst or hurt/comfort, but there's some kind of ✨️melancholy✨️ in this (predictable much), I effing miss him sm more now :(.

warnings: t.w: if u are just like me, prepare to be missing yoongi sickeningly after this. gosh, it feels like a hole in a chest rn. idk what to do w myself. oh btw some ideas mentioned here are purely my own opinions, so it doesn't have to be "facts" or "all true." if u have different opinions or if u disagree with any it u can reach out to me about them, I would like that, but that's that, enjoy!!!!!!!!!

A/N: this was a request made by @kimvante2013 I hope it meets ur expectations! this was so fun to write, I liked this a lot. feel free to send more reqs or anything u want :)

PS. English is not my first language, so you know the drill.

ᵎᵎ 𖦹彡⋆｡˚・ ─ ・ ⋯ ・ ─ ⊹ ♡₊˚๑

the problem wasn't that you couldn't see him, no.

since his duty was different from that of an ordinary individual, you both were able to spend the nights in each other's arms.

when he comes back home after duty, sometimes he's met with an empty house where he'd wash up and start preparing something for you to enjoy munching on once you get back home at a later hour of the day. other times, he comes to a busy, warm house. you blasting your favorite drama on the TV while doing the laundry in the middle of the living room, or just chilling and waiting to welcome him with mellow hugs and kisses.

and when he's on duty, he can't always contact you, but he whispered kisses laced with promises into your lips before leaving on his first day, and he would never dare to break them. not that he wants to anyway.

sometimes you'd wake up to post-it notes sticked on random surfaces and items around the house, or good morning messages of love and kisses. sometimes he calls during lunch breaks to check up on you, reminding you to drink water and eat well because that's yoongi's most precious habit of showing that he always just cares.

"don't forget to layer your outfit today, I just saw that it's gonna be awfully cold."

"did you like the bouquet I sent? want more? cook me ___ tonight xx"

"hi, don't forget to drink a cup of water right this instance or you'll shrivel up and die."

"it snowed on my way here this morning, let's go out this weekend and have some fun :]"

when days are too hard to handle, weighing one of you—maybe even both of you at the same time, cause life is a bitch like that—down and burying you under the ground, you'd send long voice messages to the other. never expecting an immediate reply. just simply pressing record and spilling all the bottled negative energy that clogged your brains and chests.

so, the problem wasn't really that you couldn't see or talk to him..

the problem was that neither of you were used to any of that.

you weren't used to being away from each other for long hours throughout the day (even though he often went on tours and job events aboard), or not being able to talk and/or see him whenever you wanted to—atleast whenever your shift agreed to let you. you're stuck on this routine for months. you were so not used to that.

over the years, you and yoongi grew to become a pen and a paper: two different items that are meant to only function and be paired together. one can't be capable without the other.

yet you try to avail yourselves of the situation and take it all easy. slowly, like waking up and leaving a warm, comfy bed at 5 in the morning to gain some purpose somewhere out there.

so, while staying away from one another for several hours a day comes with heavy challenges and even melancholy at times, that doesn't mean it can't be fruitful for your relationship.

since for it to grow healthier, a couple, intentionally or not, sometimes needs to take some "time off" to preserve the connection and intimacy between them.

you always remind yoongi of how much you had missed him during the day, which is something that never failed to put a smile on his face and trigger a stream of butterflies in his stomach.

love and yearning are two inseparable powerful emotions that one can't defeat, and absence makes the heart grow fonder. that's the beauty of the challenge your relationship was subject to at this new stage.

"I am still me, you are still you. everything's gonna be alright." yoongi would say as he hugs your face into his chest.

he always reminds you that this new chapter the two of you have entered together, hand in hand and with shaking hearts, is one that he'd been dreading but looking forward to for a very long time.

a chapter that made him understand how much he needs your existence in his life. to be himself and to be the somebody you need and deserve.

and he makes sure to translate that into your skin as he traces it with his lips and fingertips when you finally fall into each other's embrace.

[grenade-maid]

there's a lot of reasons more people aren't into yuri that are troubling to consider, but equally, I genuinely think it cannot be understated how much of it comes down to most yuri being boring as hell. Like truly. I've been reading the front page of Dynasty Scans like it was the newspaper for 15 years I am not exaggerating I can show you the download file data 15 years.

You know what the complaint about yuri by yuri readers was back in 2009?

"wow that really was just 5 volumes of them blushing at each other and then they don't even kiss"

You know what the complaint about yuri by yuri readers is today in 2023?

"wow that really was just 5 volumes of them blushing at each other and then they don't even kiss"

Don't get me wrong, Yuri has grown a LOT in that time, to the point that most people today wouldn't even understand a Maria-sama reference if it were dropped in front of them (thank God). It's expanded and evolved to encompass more stories about adult women, wider varieties of scenarios, a greater acknowledgement of real life lesbianism, and is more comfortable showing girls kissing with tongue and having sex.

Yuri Manga is maybe the best is it's ever been, and it's also getting the widest readership it's ever had in the English speaking world. The titles we carry at work are always on back order with long queues, and, when I've asked them, most weebs of all gender or sexualities report keeping up with at least a few Yuri series.

At large though? Most of it is still really boring. That's not a bad thing necessarily. I like it because it goes down easy. For the most part any series you pick is gonna be pretty chill. Even shit from Sal Jiang which is PRETTY EDGY for yuri is a pretty breezy read. More serious ones like How Do We Relationship? cover some pretty real subjects about how intimacy is actually quite difficult even when both of you love each other, but it's not like... Exciting. Yuri isn't where you go to pump your fist or get perched on the edge of your seat.

So when the comparison is made to yaoi, well, I mean, have you READ any yaoi? Even in some of the more restrained titles those boys are likely to be sucking and fucking balls and all within the first volume or two. There's gonna be drama, intrigue, shit is gonna get messy, passions are gonna get heated, clothes are gonna be ripped off, people are gonna get sold to One Direction, it's stuff you can sit down with a bowl of popcorn with you know? Stuff you can message your friend and gush Hey Can You BELIEVE? A lot of it is pretty trashy, but that's the appeal. The generic state of yaoi is torrid and exciting and sexy. Ultimately, as a species many of us like to see pretty people fuck. In yaoi you'll get that. In yuri you won't. Nothing wrong with that, but it is gonna be a major contributing factor to their relative popularity.

It's also worth making the comparison to hetero romance manga, which has undergone a renaissance of it's own in recent years. There's now a whole meta around crafting a handful of mean shitty grouchy dysfunctional bully women and flinging them at the protagonist of the day who, unlike in years past, may actually have a face and personality. Most of these are also very trashy and truly scrape the bottom of the bucket in terms of writing.

AND YET?

I would bet money on the fact that you'll have heard of these women and probably even have a good idea what they're like without ever having touched a page of their manga.

I'm sorry but the straights are whipping donuts around the yuri girls in terms of delivering a wide variety of weird compelling fucked up women. How many yuri leading ladies by comparison can you point to as standout recognizable characters even divorced from their story? There's definitely a few, but not many. I'm not talking quality or depth of writing, I'm talking straight up pure recognizability. There are many beautifully written women in yuri, now more than ever. I can't think of many who'd like, get a figure made or have their face splashed on merch, though.

I don't really have a conclusion here. I love Yuri a lot, but at the end of the day this is just kinda the state of things right now.

[oweninadaydream]

𝐌𝐨𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐧!𝐒𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞 𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐭𝐨𝐧 𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐞

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 : Steve and you interrupt your lazy afternoon to discuss a very serious (or is it?) matter...

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 : Modern!Steve Harrington x fem!reader

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐬 : pregnant!reader, established relationship, just pure fluff

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 : 777

𝐚/𝐧 : I had lots of fun writing this at like 2 am lol. Hope you enjoy it! ☺️💐

Steve was in the kitchen, trying to cook dinner as fast as he could before your cravings had the chance to change and make you suddenly disgusted just by the smell of what he had been preparing for more than an hour. Today's delicatessen consisted of Hawaiian pizza with a side of pickles.

Normally, you would hate pineapple on pizza (you just can't stand mixing sweet and salty like that) and your hatred for pickles was known by all of your friends (specially by Robin, who had to hold up your hair as you vomited because she once gave you a bite of her sandwich which happened to contain the infamous ingredient), but your boyfriend wasn't willing to contradict his pregnant girlfriend who was extremely sensitive.

He was pulled out of his thoughts after hearing you call his name. "What's up, sweetheart? Everything okay?" he asked from his position.

"We need to have a very serious talk right now" you answered in a monotonous tone.

And that, ladies and gentlemen, was the end of Steve Harrington. After he felt that his heart had started pumping blood again, he hurried to the living-room where you had been chilling for most of the afternoon. You looked fine, there was nothing on fire and your stomach seemed as round as the last time he had seen it, so what was going on?

"Go on, I'm listening love" he encouraged you to begin revealing your thoughts.

"The baby is due in a couple of weeks and we haven't even decided which movies they're gonna watch in English and which ones in Spanish" the stress in your voice was easy to detect. Steve looked you straight in the eyes and he could swear that he had fallen in love with you all over again in that very instant. How could you be so adorable?

"Oh honey, I love you so so much" he cooed while leaving small kisses all over your face "we can discuss it now while the pizza is in the oven if you'd like" he offered.

Your native tongue was Spanish and ever since Steve and you started thinking about having children, you had known you'd raise your kids to be bilingual "They will not be no sabo kids, not on my watch".

Steve was more than thrilled at the thought of mini versions of you and him walking around, babbling in some strange form of spanglish. He had taken up Spanish after meeting you, and even though he was not the fastest learner, his disposition had taken him very far in his journey to be closer to you through language.

"Okay, so do you have any ideas?" he asked "Actually, yes I do" you quickly changed your expression to show enthusiasm "I've got a mental list of some non-negotiables. First, Enredados"

Steve hummed in acknowledgment as he had already guessed you would say Tangled, your mom's favorite Disney movie. Your mother didn't understand much English so this was a logical choice, as she wanted to watch the film with her grandchild and bond over it.

"Then, we've got Tarzan" "Tarzan?! The guy that sings the songs in the Spanish version is the same guy as in the English one, Phil Collins's accent is obvious. Also, y'know, it was my favorite movie as a kid" he tried to argue in a calm manner "...Well, I guess you're right. They can watch that one in the original version" One point to Harrington.

"What if you suggest one? I wouldn't want to impose" you commented. "Don't worry cielo, you keep going and I'll think of one or two more for me to choose" the fact that the first words he learnt were the pet names you liked the most was just one of the many proofs of his love for you " All right!!! So I had thought about El Rey León, Tiana y el sapo, Bichos, Aladdín..." you then proceeded to list almost every animated Disney movie. Steve could have stopped you at any point but the enamored haze clouding his thinking process wanted to indulge in your every desire.

The oven started beeping, alerting both Steve and you that dinner was officially ready. "Let's go, it's time for dinner" "But, what about the movies?" you pouted "Mi amor, we can do whatever you want in regards to our child's cinematic experience" "The bedtime stories can be in English, your dramatic interpretation of The three little pigs will impress them for sure" you suggested after realizing that you had monopolized the whole Disney films industry and feeling bad about it "Thank you, darling. Practice makes perfect"

Happy girlfriend, happy life, right?

P.D : Phil Collins ate and left no crumbs in the Spanish soundtrack, we appreciate him in this house !!!

[octuscle]

Hey Cronivac Support,

I dont trust myself with the settings so i am asking you. I am Half German and half Moroccan, and I look German af. Brown hair, brown eyes, big smile and a really white skin. I am thinking what would happen if my appearance were based on my Moroccan genes.

Can you help me out?

Brother, chill out! Have a shisha. Just ignore that there's German shit in your body. Your dick is circumcised. You pray at least once or twice a day. Friday you also go to the mosque… It doesn't matter if there are still German genes in you.

Thursday morning. You will survive the last school year at the Gymnasium. What comes after that, you don't know yet. Something with languages might make sense. Your mother tongues are Arabic, German and French. And you are actually quite good in English and Spanish at school. But you also enjoy science. First lesson today is chemistry. Stoichiometry. Actually very interesting. But somehow you have more and more problems to understand your teacher. When he approaches you, you start to stammer. You can't think of the right words. "Youssef, you are welcome to answer in English, if that is easier for you." You sigh in relief. German is really a difficult language. And even though you have a German grandmother, German was never spoken much at home….

During the break, you hang out with your brothers. Talk about soccer, cars, the usual stuff. Smoke an e-cigarette to go with it. And you make an appointment for the afternoon at the gym. Then it's off to the workshop at the vocational school. Metalwork. Hey, you're not training to be a car mechanic so you can mill toys out of metal plates. You want to become a car tuner. And create really hot cars. Your vocational school teacher is from Syria. Fled a few years ago. He speaks much better German than you do. You've only been in Europe for two years. Your mother had the French and the Moroccan passport, so you could immigrate relatively easily. But you didn't understand why you had to move to Germany. Some of your pals now live in Marseille. You would have found that cool, too… But Stuttgart? Just because your father found a good job as an engineer here at Mercedes? Anyway, you're a fighter, you'll survive Swabia.

Lunch is at the snack bar of a former colleague of your father. He has saved up enough money on the assembly line for his own snack bar. And now he makes the best falaffels in town. On weekends, you help out a little. You can always use the extra money. And that way you also get the food cheaper. Since you've been in training, you no longer get pocket money from your parents. You are the eldest son, you now have to do your share to feed the family. And if you are the first to have a vocational qualification here, your chances of getting a permanent right to stay are also the best. If only it weren't for this terrible language…

Gym, auto repair shop, vocational school, Gym…. Your daily routine is somehow always the same. Your boss is also a Muslim, from Turkey, so you have tomorrow afternoon off to go to the mosque. But you also have to work on Saturday. But you are grateful that you have the job. And you can afford your car and the gym. It was not easy to come to Europe. It cost your parents almost all their savings. And now it's your damn duty to succeed and support your family. For that you learn to be a car mechanic, for that you sell falaffel on weekends. That's why you mop the gym floors and clean the toilets at night. You even study German for that. However, this has already brought you a few thousand followers. Your picture from the last workout has 800 likes after just half an hour. Let's see, maybe new opportunities to become rich and famous will develop. You have the right gene pool!

Pic of your latest workout found @tufas

[hedghost]

Please can you write about Alesia having the hots for the girl cleaning her pool😩just something about her wearing sunglasses to try to hide the fact she keeps staring the pool girls abs

alessia russo / hot and bothered

amidst her heavy football schedule, alessia rarely got a day to just relax, and so she relished her occasional time off, and none more so than when she got the chance to go back to her family home in italy.

just the chance to do nothing at all, to relax into the familiar motions of a place she knew well, where she could spend all day sunning herself by the pool, or chilling inside with her family, only really moving once the sun had gone down. it was easy, and it was uncomplicated, and thats why she loved it.

or at least, it was usually uncomplicated. normally, there were no unwanted distractions from her dedicated rest and relaxation time. today, though, as she tanned on a sunbed on the patio, something else had caught her attention. someone else.

as much as she didn’t want to, alessia tended to rise early. despite being on holiday, she still had to keep her body clock in some sort of rhythm, and so, far earlier than she would’ve liked, she extricated herself from her sheets, haphazardly threw on a bikini, and padded downstairs in such of something to keep her occupied until everyone else woke up.

no one else seemed to be awake, and so alessia grabbed herself a drink and headed out to the pool. at this hour, the sun was not yet at its peak, and the heat wasn’t unbearable, so she figured she’d be able to grab both a bit of extra sleep and a tan.

alessia wasn’t really paying attention to where she was going, still half asleep and precariously balancing a coffee in one hand as she navigated the edge of the pool, and so she only noticed she had company when she tripped over her own two feet. she braced herself for a rather watery impact, but it never came.

instead, alessia found herself staring, dumbfounded, into the eyes of potentially the prettiest girl she’d ever seen.

stai bene? you asked as you righted alessia, strong hands gently tugging her away from the water’s edge.

alessia’s italian was a little rusty, sure, but she knew enough to understand that phrase. still though, she only swallowed, cheeks flushing as she flicked between not wanting to look away and wanting to bury her head in the proverbial sand.

when she didn’t respond, you repeated yourself in english.

you alright?

alessia blushed. great - now you probably thought she was stupid, as well as clumsy. nice going less.

alessia swallowed, her throat considerably dryer than it had been before. she pulled her gaze away from your eyes, which were twinkling with a sort of gentle bemusement that alessia suddenly wanted to bask in forever.

sorry, i- uh, yeah alessia exhaled as her composure regained itself, smiling softly as she nodded yeah, i’m fine, sorry, are you?

it occurred belatedly to alessia that she probably should’ve asked in italian, and she cursed her ineptitude around pretty girls once again. her worries subsided however when you answered easily in fluent english, flashing her a glinting smile.

yeah, i’m all good

alessia nodded but didn’t move from where she stood, still facing you. her mind raced with ways not to end the conversation, although she perhaps should’ve been instead questioning why exactly a strange girl was walking around her pool at 8 in the morning. in hindsight, it was a good thing you weren’t a burglar, because alessia would’ve been of no use whatsoever, seemingly lovestruck as she was.

you rubbed the back of your neck with a grin, gesturing to the pool awkwardly and looking at her with an expectant smirk. it was only then that alessia tore her eyes from your face, down to the mass of pool cleaning equipment you gripped in your arms. very toned, bronze arms, alessia noted with a blush, before she mentally slapped herself.

oh! right, you’re here to clean the pool?

that’s me, you said with a grin. alessia flushed - was the sun getting hotter, or was it the fact you still hadn’t broken eye contact that was riling her up like this? you pointed past alessia towards the water again.

may i? i don’t want to disturb your morning

alessia nodded and stepped to the side to allow you past. she watched you walk away, swallowing at how your back muscles rippled under the vest you wore. a little awkwardly she called after you.

yeah, you’re fine!

you turned to her, smirking, one eyebrow raised in silent question. alessia scrambled to explain. god she was so bad at this.

i mean like, you’re fine, as in it’s fine, like, it’s not - you’re not disturbing me. she felt her cheeks flush and she trailed off rather lamely- is what i mean

mercifully though, you laughed and nodded. even from the increased distance between you, alessia could feel the intensity of your eyes, felt pierced in the best way possible by your gaze. you turned and set to work.

alessia, still reeling giddily from the interaction, settled herself on a nearby sun lounger. pulling her sunglasses down over her eyes, she sipped absentmindedly at her coffee. she tried to read her book (honestly, she did) but soon gave up after her eyes flicked over the same paragraph for the fourth time.

she was trying to ration herself to only the occasional glance up at you working, but clearly your body demanded more attention than her brain could handle. she kept her eyes trained on the book, trying to distract herself, but you were all she could focus on right now.

allowing herself the grace to sneak a look up once more, alessia nearly choked on her drink. you’d removed your vest, leaving you in only a bikini top and very small shorts. glad for the cover of her sunglasses, alessia took in your toned abs, the slight sheen of sweat that clung to them as you worked in the morning heat.

alessia thought she was being subtle, that she was totally not obvious as she shamelessly checked you out. she wasn’t sure how long she watched, not thinking of much other than how your fingers gripped your equipment, the way your biceps flexed as you worked, how it might feel to be gripped those fingers, be held by those arms-

stop it alessia. you don’t even know her.

she was so preoccupied with watching you (and the rather detailed thoughts that watching you provoked) that she didn’t notice your laugh, or the way you cleared your throat one, two times.

everything okay?

you called, grinning at how alessia jumped and averted her eyes. you smirked. alessia tried to stutter a response but you just laughed goodnaturedly, walking over to her sunlounger.

the sunglasses could only hide so much. they didn’t hide her blush. you pointed it out to her with a smile.

you’re a bit pink, would you like some sun lotion?

if alessia had thought she couldn’t talk before, this was a whole new level. the stuttered squeak she let out was so unlike her that it only set her off blushing madly again.

you produced, out of god knows where, a bottle of sunblock, and gestured to alessia’s shoulders.

may i?

alessia could only nod - surely this was some very steamy dream? or had she stumbled into the set of a cliche romance film?

alessia flinched slightly as the cold cream touched her back. at least that was the excuse she was going with. definitely nothing to do with the gentle yet firm touch of your fingers as you massaged the cream gently over her back, the way your touch was like static shock, sending currents of need all throughout her body. nope, definitely not.

she felt like she was combusting, like every vein inside her was screaming with equal measures unadulterated pleasure and crushing embarrassment. taking a deep breath, alessia allowed herself instead to relax into your hands- to relax into this insanely attractive situation she’d magically found herself in. as bizarre as it was, she had no complaints.

alessia barely realised when you stopped, too blissfully unaware of what was going on. it was only when you walked around to face her that she regained some semblance of self-control. finding her voice, she spoke, thankfully able to string words together now.

thank you

you smiled, shrugging as you did so.

not a problem, wouldn’t want you to burn

just like that you stood, beginning to gather your various pieces of cleaning equipment.

oh, are you leaving?

yep, all done for the day, then you turned back to alessia and winked- show’s over i’m afraid

alessia blushed again. okay so maybe she hadn’t been that subtle. mercifully, you didn’t seem annoyed. in fact, the smile you flashed her was borderline encouraging to her fantasies. you waved as you turned, calling over your shoulder with a borderline devilish smirk.

same time tomorrow?

alessia grinned. she leaned back on the sun lounger feeling considerably hot and bothered, and also maybe a little smug. it looked like she’d found her early morning entertainment for the holiday.

[sebastianswallows]

The English Client — Six

— PAIRING: Tom Riddle x F!Reader

— SYNOPSIS: The year is 1952. Tom is working for Borgin and Burkes. He is sent to Rome to acquire three ancient books of magic by any means necessary. One in particular proves challenging to reach, and the only path forward is through a pretty, young bookseller. A foreigner like him, she lives alone, obsessed with her work... until Tom comes into her life.

— WARNINGS: none, it's just cute

— WORDCOUNT: 3.2k

I

One enchanting benefit of Tom entering her life, even if it was to be temporary, was to remind her that somewhere out there, outside the walls of her profession, the world went on. She was jealous for a moment that others got to travel, away from their boss and family. Just be a new person in new places, a stranger in the crowd. But it also filled her with some optimism to know that there were other people of her age invested in rare books, not just venerable aristocrats or obsessives like dear Fred.

And it, most shamefully of all, made her look up with a smile whenever the bell to her shop chimed. It wasn’t always Tom — but today, it was.

It was the third time he had come, the second since they put Torchia’s infamous work on display, and last time he hadn’t even mentioned it. She was so relieved… But that wasn’t the only reason she was smiling.

“Welcome back,” she grinned, getting up smoothly to greet him. “Happy with The Lost Word?”

“My employer is happy. Which means, I am happy,” said Tom with a rigid curling of his lips.

“Oh. Is he searching for the Philosopher’s stone?” she teased.

“Certainly hope not. Merlin forbid that he should live forever...”

She couldn’t help but laugh at his silly wording. Tom had a way of being funny that made it look like he wasn’t even trying…

He strolled through the shop as surely as if he owned the place, but his eyes now scarcely strayed to any of the books. They were mostly fixed on her.

“So, how can I help you today?”

“Oh, in many ways,” he purred, coming close enough to lay on her desk a sheet of paper, right beside her hip.

His closeness made her tremble, left her breathless, chilled her hands and warmed her face quite shamefully. She picked the paper up and her easy smile tensed. It was a list.

“These are quite the names,” she said.

“Do you have them?” asked Tom silkily.

“We do. Wait here.”

“No. I’ll come and help you.”

The stack piled high on her desk. They were as heavy as they were expensive. She looked at Tom from the corner of her eye as he checked his list against what she had brought with him, his gaze impassive and cool.

“Are you sure you can afford these, Mr. Riddle?”

“Please, call me Tom,” he smiled.

She smiled back but waited for him to answer. Her pleasure at seeing him had given way to business.

“How much?” he asked.

“For all of them? I’d estimate seven million lire.”

“So around ten thousand pounds…”

“At least.”

“I could send a telegram to my employer, but I doubt he would be willing to part with such a sum.”

She nodded and without a word began to pick the books up to return them to their shelves.

“Unless,” he quickly added, his susurrous voice lingering around her, “you would be interested in a trade.”

She paused. He looked more seductive than he had any right to be, bartering for books with his eyes so dark and his smile childishly expectant.

“W-what kind of trade?”

“Back at my hotel room, I have a number of manuscripts I acquired in Paris. Beautifully illuminated, tightly bound, and with the most tantalising marginalia. I’m sure at least some of them would catch your eye.”

“Would your employer not mind their absence?”

“Not as much as he would mind these,” he said. “I doubt he’d even notice. We don’t appreciate the French that much in England, you know.”

She crossed her arms over her chest, hugging herself quietly.

“Would you consider it?” Tom asked.

She did. She shifted her weight from one foot to the other as she thought about it. This is a bad idea…

“Let me help you,” he offered again, picking up half of the books behind her.

She thought about it as she followed him, her eyes scanning that taut back, those thighs that arched beneath his trousers smoothly with each step. She nearly moaned looking at him. Did he dress so tartly just to tease her?

“Not too much, is it?” he asked, casting an easy smile over his shoulder.

“What?”

“Your books. You’re not carrying too many?”

“Oh, not at all,” she giggled, “I’m used to it.”

She felt a little guilty, undressing him with her eyes like that… But then it was her turn to feel naked as she climbed the ladder once again to put the books back one by one. Tom waited at the bottom, his hands on either side of the ladder and his dark eyes trailing up. She smiled to herself — secretly, and sadly. Nothing could ever come of it.

“I’m afraid I have to refuse you, Mr. Riddle,” she said once she was back down before him.

“It’s Tom,” he frowned. “And why?”

“It would be wise not to trade books in such a place.”

“What sort of place would that be?”

“Private.”

Tom nodded and, to her relief, smiled.

“I see. A clever move.”

She breathed a grateful sigh.

“How about a public place, then?” he asked.

“W-what do you mean?”

“Go out with me.”

Her lips parted but not a sound came through. Tom took advantage of it to continue.

“Would you have dinner with me tonight? I know a very nice restaurant…”

“Oh, well, erm, you can just bring the books here…”

“I could. But what would be the fun in that?” he said with a half-smile.

He looked at her as hopeful and expectant as a little boy, and in turn, brought out the careless little girl in her. It had been so long since she’d gone out with someone on a real date… Longer still since she enjoyed it.

“Alright,” she chuckled. “Alright. I finish at six. Shall we meet in front of the Fontana Trevi?”

“Sounds wonderful,” he said, his head held high in something like victory. “I will be there.” He bent and kissed the soft and dusty back of her hand, gaze meeting hers for one long moment.

What did I just get myself into?

II

Compared to the odium of charming Burke’s rich elderly clients, this was as fresh as a wintery morning and twice as bright. The sight of Rome at night took away whatever other bitterness Tom harboured.

He hadn’t been charmed by the city when he first arrived, but he got fonder of it the longer he stayed. The wide-open piazzas on which intimately narrow streets converged like the threads of a spider’s web, the hard white buildings, the lazy cafés, the ruins… They had the charm of eternity about them that always fascinated Tom.

So he stood before the Trevi fountain with a real smile on his face, a relaxation of the features he didn’t often get to have. In his leather messenger bag were several muggle books, perfectly ordinary, but enchanted to look like ancient tomes he’d seen during his studies. The transfiguration would not wear off for another two months.

He heard the sharp patter of heels he knew so well by now and turned to see her walking straight toward him. Right on time… Tom secured the strap of the bag around his shoulder and greeted her with a warm smile.

“Hello.”

“Hello again,” she murmured shyly, stopping before him.

“Did you change clothes? You look so different outside of that place…” he asked, allowing his gaze to trail transparently down her figure.

“Oh no,” she chuckled, “it’s much too far.”

Tom smirked. He knew that too.

“Well, you look lovely. Shall we go? The restaurant is this way.”

It was recommended by a concierge at the Gallienus as a ‘solid’ place to eat. It was quite central with a view over the Tiber and was frothing full of young and noisy people when they arrived. Tom felt relieved he had a reservation, but when he turned to her, his heart fell. He’d seen that look before on Abraxas or Rosier whenever they saw him do something decidedly middle-class and muggle.

“You don’t approve.”

“It’s not that! It’s… a nice place,” she said timidly.

“But?”

“It’s a bit of a cellar, you know?”

“I… don’t, actually.”

“It’s where men go to meet… women,” she whispered.

Tom slowly understood. He’d have to choke the life out of that concierge and find somewhere to hide the body…

“I’m… sorry. We can just call this off. I —”

“No,” she said quickly, her hand closing on his elbow in a small and warm embrace. “No, no, really, we can still go somewhere… I know a good place. A really good place. You want me to take you?”

“Please do.”

They took a tram to Via del Corso, and passed through a long and narrow street filled with little places — record stores, wineries, antique shops — until they reached the end of it. There, on the corner, was Othelo’s. He wondered if it was the same place Clement had talked about…

They took a table outside, beneath wide umbrellas, far from the entrance. Nobody would hear them, nobody would look at them.

“You’ll love it here,” she grinned as she settled down and took the menu. “Their seafood is the best in town.”

“Is that what you’ll have?”

“I think so,” she hummed happily. “Maybe some spaghetti with frutti di mare.”

“I’m more drawn to this, I think. Nero di seppia…”

“I’d recommend against it,” she chuckled.

“Why? Is it not good?”

“Oh no, it’s very tasty…”

“Then I’ll have it.”

She grinned in a deliciously impish way.

Although her gaze slid to his bag where the square shape of hefty volumes bulged, she made no mention of them. He found himself nervous for the first time, and burdened with the instinct to impress — a natural and manly sentiment, but no less bothersome.

She took the liberty of ordering a bottle of wine to go with their meal.

“A whole bottle?”

“It’s alright. What we don’t drink, we can take home,” she said, without specifying whose home that would be.

They drank it, and after a few glasses, Tom found himself confessing things that would have made him cast Oscausi on his own mouth.

“And I loathe that… putrid bundle of bile, bald-headed bastard, with his greasy eyebrows and wart-crusted mouth.”

“Oh, Tom,” she sighed sympathetically.

“I swear on my grandfather’s ring,” he hissed, caressing the Horcrux with his thumb, “one day I’m going to gouge out his eyeballs, and piss in his skull.”

“I know, I know…”

“Everyone thought I was mad to go to work for him — and that syphilitic stoat, Borgin. I could’ve had a top position at the Ministry, I could have —”

“So why work there?” she asked, lips stained red around the edges from the Arrabiata sauce. Her elbows were braced upon the table, her body drawn toward him.

“Because of what it allows me to find,” said Tom. “The oldest, most rare and forgotten relics most people couldn’t dream of seeing, let alone touch.”

“I understand…”

“Do you?” Tom smiled, reaching forward with a napkin to wipe the corners of her mouth.

She blushed and mumbled a thank you before leaning back into her seat.

“Do you feel the same?” Tom asked.

“W-what?”

“About your employer.”

“Oh! Well, I…”

Tom smiled and listened, feeling genuinely curious.

“The Baron is a different sort of person from your Mr. Burke. In fact, I don’t think he’s like anyone you’ve ever met. He isn’t like anyone I’ve ever met either. But…”

“Yes?”

“I suppose I don’t know how I feel,” she laughed skittishly, her arms coming up to wrap around her. “I respect him, but I fear him too.”

“Why is that?” asked Tom, leaning back and sipping his wine. “Has he threatened you?”

“No,” she said quickly, “he’s quite harmless, in a way…”

Tom cocked a brow. It was certainly the oddest way he’d heard anyone be described.

“But it’s just that…”

“Yes?”

“You’ll think me insane,” she laughed.

“Never.”

She leaned forward, her eyes darting around as if the very shadows could have ears, and then she fixed her gaze on him with utter seriousness.

“I think he might be a wizard,” she whispered.

Tom tried hard not to laugh. “No…”

“He’s obsessed with magic and weird rituals and such…”

It wasn’t that Tom didn’t believe her, but, well, he didn’t believe her. It would’ve been a convenient explanation for why the shop was charmed, but no real wizard would operate that openly in muggle society, even in Italy. Besides, if this Baron were a wizard, Burke would certainly have known — wouldn’t he?

“Really, Tom. He’s involved in all sorts of weirdness. Him and all of his crusty old friends…”

Tom nodded as he listened. “So you’re afraid he’ll turn you into a toad if you resign, is that it?”

“Not funny! And… maybe?”

He laughed, and leaned forward in an utterly uncharacteristic show of consolation to place his hand upon her own.

“He won’t curse you,” he promised her. “He’s just a weird old man with more money than sense. Just like the rest of them.”

She smiled back weakly at first, but her smile grew as his hand chilled and calmed her own.

“Why don’t we look at your books, Tom? I’ve been yearning to all evening.”

“Have you?” he winked. “Alright, as soon as they take the plates away.”

And once their table was cleared, he presented them to her with all the reverence befitting the venerable tomes they were masquerading as. To his relief, she did not leaf too much through them or read long lines of text. She was satisfied by checking the binding and the sound of the pages between her fingers.

“Tom… These must fetch quite a price.”

He smirked.

“But…”

His smile died. “But what?”

“I don’t think I can authorise their sale. You should probably speak to the Baron before we can accept them, and then discuss the trade for the other books you wanted.”

Tom leaned back in a contemplative manner, but inside his blood was singing. He brushed a black lock away from his forehead, fingers threading through his hair, and watched as her eyes followed the movement. I have you now, he thought, you and your obstinate Baron.

“Are you quite certain? After all, your expertise is —”

“I’m certain.”

“Alright, alright. Well,” he sighed, “I suppose if I have to…”

III

They packed up the books rather quickly after she finished reviewing them, just in case they spilt wine on them, and soon they were safely back in Tom’s messenger bag.

As they walked back together to the main street, he offered to walk her home.

“Oh, no,” she laughed, “I know the way, really.”

“Come on, it’s —” he checked his watch, “half past ten. What sort of gentleman would I be to let you walk the streets alone at night?”

He only had to flash a smile at her in that practised way for her to yield.

The ride on the tram was pleasantly cool, the evening breeze caressing their cheeks, playing in their hair, rustling the edges of their shirts. It cleared away the wisps of wine still swirling through their heads.

Tom kept a soft and harmless smile throughout the ride, but he let his eyes linger quite openly. He wanted her to feel desired, wanted her to be seen in a way that was more appreciative, more personal, than whatever crass wolf-whistling and leering she was usually subjected to in Rome.

Their hands rested side by side on the worn seats, not touching except when the jostling on the tracks swayed them briefly together. He could see her lips fight back a smile whenever it happened.

The walk to her building was slow, and they barely spoke, except to arrange for his meeting with her employer. Tom made passing note of the information, but his attention was mostly fixed on her. She seemed less happy the closer they got to her street, even though he thought his company might be enough of a tonic. It usually was for women…

He made a point to look around, pretending to see it all for the first time. She only looked ahead, or at the ground.

“I’ll have to call him in advance, of course. He has an unpredictable schedule.”

“Of course,” said Tom.

“I’ll speak with his secretary… She will know when he’s available.”

“Hmm.”

“Will you speak to Mr. Burke in the meanwhile?”

“Hmm? Oh, I don’t think so. He entrusts me with everything.”

“That must be nice,” she said with a faint smile.

“It’s not because he trusts me,” said Tom. “He’s just not clever enough to make such decisions. Only clever enough to realise it.”

“Even better,” she laughed. “A dumb employer might be a blessing.”

“You would think so,” he scoffed. “But it’s a burden. Any sort of boss is a burden.”

The scenery was no more pleasant than the last time he’d followed her home, but now Tom found his steps easing as he walked, his shoulders falling back, body disarmed. It was… nice to talk to someone so openly. He never would have imagined he needed it.

“Well, this is it,” she said as they stopped in front of her building. She wasn’t looking at him anymore, her girlish joy forgotten. “Not all that glamorous, I know.”

“Compared to my hotel, it’s palatial.”

She chuckled. “So I suppose by now you’ve seen everything Rome has to offer, good and bad.”

“Oh, I don’t think I’ve seen everything yet,” said Tom with a subtle smirk.

She looked into his eyes and understood enough to blush. He held her gaze, ready for the slightest opening, anything she was willing to give him.

“Erm, do you know your way back?”

His eyes narrowed. She wasn’t going to invite him upstairs? But he’d been so good to her… And he was certain she was attracted to him. The whole reason why he’d asked her on a date and walked her to her squalid home was to seduce her. And she wasn’t even interested?!

“Yes, I… think I’ll be alright.”

“Good, well… Good. So, erm, good night,” she smiled. “Thank you for walking me home. And for dinner.”

“The pleasure was all mine,” said Tom, taking her hand and bending for a kiss.

“Y-yes. Good night,” she said, again. “We’ll speak again tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow,” he nodded.

She cast him a parting glance before entering her building, the door closing with a wicked scratch of rust behind her. Tom waited until she was out of sight to sigh. So, no seducing her to make the whole process easier, no getting her on his side… He hadn’t dealt with bookish girls since Hogwarts, and he’d forgotten what a handful they were. She really was going to do everything by the rules.

IV

When he finally arrived back at his hotel and started to get ready for bed, he realised why she’d laughed at his choice of dinner. He parted his lips in a grimace and stared at himself in the mirror, an angry frown and shameful blush crawling on his face. He looked halfway between horrid and hilarious. His teeth were stained black as if he’d just crawled out of a swamp. The nero di seppia. The squid ink from his spaghetti had made his teeth black.

[slugtranslation-hypmic]

hi slug!!! what do you think of the block party trailers?

Thank you for giving me the excuse to go finally listen to them.

Rivals: Hmm, this is a really interesting comparison! I wouldn't have immediately classified Doppo as a "act first, think later" character, but he definitely has those moments. The music is bouncy but not immediately doing it for me. I think it's one of those songs I'll grow to like quickly, though.

White and Black: (not to be confused with Doppo's Black or White, naturally) SHADY BOYS, LET'S GOOOOOO! I love this match-up. I think they are the kind of people to have a meet-cute in which they committed identity fraud and/or credit card fraud on one another. Anyway, I love the style here. Team Rocket-ass mfers. I agree with the top YT comment at the time of writing, which is, "This is the most fanfic-y thing Hypmic has ever officially released, and I am here for it." I also love that neither of them makes one single effort to hide their scumminess. Truly a duo for the ages.

Thanks for Having Us! Now Look Alive! Osaka Big Up: (or whatever people are calling the Sasara/Roshou one) I adore the fact that Sasara introduces them as a three-person group ft. Rei, but Rei just happens to be doing something else (stealing Juuto's identity, most like) and thus it's a two-person act today. Sasara and Roshou's comedy/speaking dynamic is much more relaxed and natural feeling than it was in their first appearance in Ah, Osaka Dreamin' Night, which is a nice reflection of the current state of their friendship status. Music is chill. I'd like to hear more of it before forming more opinions. Their singing voices sound good with this older, slower style of song.

The Demons' Flowers: I appreciate how the MV style departs from usual Hypmic MV to mimic the MVs for this kind of music. Very JRPG-esque. The lyrics strike me as a little generic for music projects, which is atypical for Hypmic, but it's definitely appropriate for Juushi.

Get busy: I really like this match-up; their high energy works together well here, as does their commitment to working together with the homies to kick absolute ass. I'm not sure KR fully understands the connotation of the English title they've chosen; they're probably going for more of a "Take it easy...but take it!" vibe.

Viva la liberty: While the music itself isn't doing much for me yet, I like this take on how both Saburou and Ramuda have grown throughout the story while still acting in very similar ways to their act 1 selves. An unusual match-up, but I can dig it.

What Lies Beyond the Dreaming: Wow, I really like this. Like Scenario Liar, it almost feels confessional in the sense of how it creates a closed sense of solidarity with the listener (you're the only one I can trust, let me tell you my story for your ears only, etc.). In that case, it's being spoken to his brother, I suppose? Would love to hear the full song.

Closer: I like Hitoya's singing a lot in this one. The darker lyrics and tone suit them both quite well, and I wonder if this points to Jakurai and Hitoya finally talking things out, including Jakurai's experiences in the war, in act 3. Or perhaps that's simply wishful thinking.

My Life: Positivity: Aside from the obvious enjoyment of Hifumi wrangling the rest of the cast into being his enthusiastic background singers, I really like how this song is both bright and bubbly at surface level but says a lot of deeper things about Hifumi's character, like how he's willing to open himself up to being hurt again so long as he has the protection of his friends and loved ones. I don't think it's the kind of thing I'd listen to, but I am looking forward to seeing the full thing.

Move Your Body Til You Die!: Roger that, sir. o7 Very glad to see that Riou's solos are as silly as ever. I think this is my favorite so far in terms of music. It is most definitely my favorite in terms of music videos.

Will-o'-the-Wisp: I really, really, REALLY like the lyrics and how much growth they show for Samatoki. It's nice how you can tell just musically how much he's healed and mellowed out since the start of the series.

HIPHOPPIA: This is my actual favorite musically, and while I understand and appreciate the thematic point of having so many styles of music on this album, I'm personally a bit sad there isn't more of the classic hip-hop sound. Lot of interesting imagery in the lyrics.

Conclusion: Move Your Body Til You Die! is a work of art.

[silent-raven13]

Quenepas!

(If ya'll never try Quenepas/Mamones/Mamoncillos or in English term Spanish Limes, ya'll are missing out. They are so good! 🤤)

(Warning: Hobie 18 and Miles is 17 and they do a bit of touching. I put a warning bc I know some readers don't like reading high school stuff like this. You been warned.)

"It's amazing my brother was able to find a whole bulk of Quenepas!" Rio smiles widely having one of her favorite fruits in the sink to wash them, "These are amazing healthy snack for you papi!"

Jeff saw the two large boxes of Spanish Limes, "Wow, there's a lot of these things. Are you sure we can finish this?"

"Mi amor, I've been carving for these for the longest." Her small baby bump shows her three month pregnancy. "and they are a way better snack than your donuts."

"You know, not all cops like donuts." Jeff pouts at his wife.

His wife side eye him, "I know you eat at least five of those Dunkin' donuts. You need to start watching what you eat! You're gonna be having another kid and you need to be able get old till you're eighty!" She went to fix her husband's Chief uniform, noticing his tie being off. "You have to be ready for this long journey." She smiles.

"I know. I know. I'll pack some." The middle age man said having to rub his neck, "But will that cancel out a burger?"

"Jeff! How about a salad! Look I already pack your lunch." She handed him, his lunch bag, "The doctor said you need to watch your cholesterol and blood pressure. Less fat, and more greens."

"Awwwe, but is burger Wednesday!"

His wife gave him the death glare that made him shut up real quick. "Okay, Salad Wednesday! I'll eat all this, baby. Love you." He nervously said giving a kiss on the cheek. "Your always right."

"That's what I like to hear!" She smirks widely in approval.

Miles came out of his room being surprised from the boxes of his favorite fruit. "Whoa! Tío brought all these! Yummy!" He happily went over to the clean batches to take one, he first bite around the hard peel then pop the round fruit to suckle on it. "Mmm, so good!"

Quenepas are these green oval balls covered in a thin layer with an orange transparent pulp wrapped around the seed inside. It has a sweet citrus lime taste perfect for the summer, it's refreshing and addicting to eat by its unique flavor. Miles love them so much he tends to eat most of the bag without a thought. It's so delicious that him and his mom always ask their relatives to buy bulks in areas around heavy Puerto Rican/Latinos fruit sellers.

Luckily Miles' uncle was able to find a good deal with two boxes full of Quenepas! Now, he can eat them without worrying about leaving some to his mom. "Mmm, these are so good!" He hops up and down finish suckling the pulp leaving the seed, spitting it out to throw it in the trash.

Rio happily eats one, "These are better than the last bulk. Your tío knows how to pick them. Now, I'ma take some for work. Miles, there's leftovers from last night and pizza from Thursday, okay? If you want to order food tu papà left money on the table."

"Twenty five dollars, right here, son!" Jeff put the cash on the dinning table.

"Okay, thanks dad." Miles smiles being happy he's all alone today. The perfect Saturday, where he can be Spider-man for the day and night just chill.

"Okay, I gotta head to work. See you guys later. Rio take it easy at work. You're pregnant remember." Jeff kisses his wife on the cheek.

"I know. I know." Rio laughs then kisses her husband's cheek. "Bye, mi amor." Then she went over to give Miles hugs and kisses, "Bye, mi vida. Mi bebé!"

"Mamí!" Miles getting his mother's kisses being smothered.

"Be good, okay! Also lock the doors and don't go to the fire escape!"

Miles rolled his eyes. After his parents left, he ate his breakfast and finished his report early. Then he went to spend all day as Spider-man, fighting off some villains here and there. It was a simple day, when he got home he took the twenty five dollars to put in his wallet. If he doesn't order anything with it, his dad let him have it for safe keeping.

The seventeen year old got a bowl of his favorite fruits to enjoy for the night. "Gonna watch some Full Metal Alchemist with some chips, soda and Quenepas!" He happily skips over to his couch and grab his remote to turned on his television to put on his stream. He sips on his soda, "Mmm."

He wore a white tank top with some lime green shorts being barefoot with his hairy legs kicking back and forth. "Mmm, these are so good." He suckles on his favorite fruit.

Unaware of someone coming inside through Miles' fire escape window, with heavy thick combat boots stepping inside with a heavy thud. Miles relax in the living room watching his favorite show and texting Ganke about the episode he finished. "Episode was dope. I'ma try to finish the season tonight."

Ganke texted him with a smiley face. The figure walks carefully not triggering Miles' spidey sense, but his other senses, "Baby, what are you trying to do?"

"Awe, I thought I was giving you a scare, luv." His punker boyfriend pout at him.

"Your boots always makes a loud sound. I'm Spider-man for a reason, bae." His Sunflower's doe eyes looks up at him with a small smirk on his face.

"Yeah, you're right. And you possibly knew I was coming by, huh?" Hobie jumps over the couch to sit next to his cute boyfriend. The cushions bouncy up and down making Miles move his bag of chips away from his boyfriend's side.

Hobie grins widely as he lay on his Miles, "Duh, you're my boyfriend. I know, you always want to visit me whenever I'm free or my parents aren't around." His cute darling smirks at him while eating an odd fruit.

"Darling, what are you eating?" Hobie asked being confused.

Miles set his empty glass bottle of cola on the ground, his mouth suckling the sweet citrus fruit, "Quenepas!"

"What?"

"Quenepas! Oh right, that's what Puerto Ricans call these. Um... I think Central Americans call them Mamones." Miles pointed out, as he let Hobie hold the small oval shape fruit. "They're like little gum balls."

"Yeah, and you call them what? Queen-Quene-passe?" Hobie tries to pronounce the word. His fingers hold the fruit like a piece of gem to study it.

"Quenepas! Jamaicans called them, Ginep or Guenepa."

"Ooh, I've heard of these before." Hobie heard it from his childhood friends that use to visit their relatives in Jamaica. "I never tried them."

"Make sense, these are mostly from the Americans. You wanna try it?" Miles asked.

"Yes, luv. How do you eat it?"

"Easy. You just do this," His boyfriend put half of the oval shape fruit in his mouth, he snuck his teeth hard enough to rip open the thick leather-like cover. "Then, you just open the half part." He uses his mouth to take off the peel to reveal the pretty pulp. "This is the pulp, the good part and it covers the seed. So you just pop it in your mouth and suck on it."

"Suck on it?" Hobie's face froze, he turns pink thinking of dirty thoughts.

"Yeah," His boyfriend being naive as always with his honey-brown eyes glued on his show. "These taste like sweet limes. So good. Try it!"

Hobie hold his fruit in his hand to do what Miles did. First, he bit around the peel then pull it away. His dark eyes saw the light orange pulp covering the seed, his mouth opens wide as he pops it inside.

Miles watches his boyfriend's eyes lit up by the fruit. "Good, huh?"

"Luv, these are delicious. It got that bitter taste to it from the lime, too."

"Right, it gives it a nice flavor!" Miles spit the seed out of his mouth to put it in a separate bowl were all the discarded seeds and peels went to. "These are one of my favorite fruits."

"Mmm," Hobie spit the seed out of his mouth letting his tongue tingle by the sour sweet taste of the fruit. It's delicious, but not as delicious as watching his Sunflower suckling on them. The way his beautiful plump lips pucker as he eats the fruit. This gives Hobie an idea, a delightful idea that a wide smirk spread on his face.

"Sunflower, these are good, but I want to try something with these?" The eighteen year old punker hold another fruit quickly opening the peel to put the fruit in his mouth.

"What?" Miles face his boyfriend being caught off guard by Hobie's lips. "Mmmm!" Honey brown eyes widen when he felt his boyfriend's tongue and the Quenepas rolling around between they're tongues.

"Mmm," Hobie groans as he got on top of his Sunflower as they have a heated make out.

Miles' cheeks felt warm being bashful, almost turned on as his tongue plays around with Hobie's. They were still in the beginning of their relationship, so tongue kissing isn't something Miles is good at. He's still shy about their heated kisses and hand holding, because he believes Hobie can do so much better without him.

Their first kiss wasn't as romantic as Miles wanted it to be, because of his lack of experience Hobie gave him a peck on the lips. From the beginning all they did was a simple kiss on the cheek or hand hold, all because the Black Latino isn't use to anything else. This made him more upset with himself, he wants to prove he can try new things instead of being coddle or treated like a delicate little flower. He wants to be daring, sexy and pleased his boyfriend the same way he does with him.

Their tongues play with the fruit having drool coming down their corner of their lips, the sweet taste of the fruit gave a euphoric pleasure running through their bodies. "Ohhh," Miles groans in the back of their throat, "Mmm."

"Mmm," Hobie purrs, letting his tongue flap around his pretty Sunflower's delicious mouth. Their plump lips suckle on the fruit letting their tongues push the seed back and forth. The sounds of their lips smacking got their bodies hot, their lower region a bit harder.

Miles' tongue was a bit weaker, more submissive than Hobie's dominant mouth. His boyfriend is hungry for him, so hungry, Miles could hear his heart beating rapidly. Their Spidey senses kicking high gear, it's nothing they ever felt before.

They could feel it trying to bond with one another, understand each other without saying a word. It's like their Spider senes are communicating based on instincts. Miles' eyes met dark beautiful brown eyes as if they were trying to understand that each other in a much deeper level. They could feel their Spider senses clicking after Hobie gently let Miles take over their kiss.

Click.

Miles'a own hands pulled Hobie into that deep kiss again, this time his teeth nibbling on his man's bottom lip. Their Spider senses now in tune. "Mmm!" They felt their cheeks warm, Miles' eyes being teary from all the feel good pleasure and want from his partner. His legs wrapped around Hobie's waist, letting his hips grind against him.

The punker's hands gripping on couch trying to support himself while Miles' hands wrapped around his face. They keep kissing till they felt the need to pull away. "Mmm!" They both moan again, the sound of the couch and television play in their ears.

Their teeth would nibble a bit of their lips and tongue. Miles felt Hobie's teeth sinking in a bit harder making him shiver with delight. That feels good. The young teenager tries to copy every movement to get better at kissing, he was tired of pecks and small kisses. He wants this.

When Hobie finally pulled away to catch his breath, he could feel his crotch hard, his breathing heavy. Their tongues left a trail of salvia as Miles lay his head on the couch with his teeth holding the seed. The sight of the young Spider-man's swollen plump lips being wrapped around the seed was to tempting for Hobie.

It made him want to do something more. "Hobie..." Miles muffled his words.

"Luv?" Hobie leans over to kiss his cheek, "I overdid, didn't I."

Feeling Hobie's warm breath on his left ear made Miles shudder again. "Mm-Mm." He shook his head. Their bodies were needing each other, they were begging to go further, but- There is always a but, Miles wasn't ready.

Hobie can tell his precious Sunflower is nervous. After all, this is their first time tongue kissing like this. "Miles..." He finally said before he sat back up to help his Sunflower sit back up.

The seventeen year old spit out the clean seed in his hand, he felt bashful, again. "Hobie, we kissed!"

"We always kiss, luv."

"No, we... tongue kiss." He shyly said, "My lips feel weird." He touch them feeling the soft soreness, it doesn't hurt.

"Heh, did you like it?"

Miles turns to him, "Hobie, I wanna kiss like that again!" Then he pouts, "But its okay we only take it slow."

"Sunflower," Hobie's hand caress his beautiful boyfriend's cheek, "You can take as long as you want."

Miles' eyes gleams with love, he quickly took another Quenepas with the peel off. Popping the fruit in his mouth. Then tackle down his boyfriend for another kiss. "Your mine, Hobie Brown!"

"That's what I like to hear, luv." Hobie purrs as they kiss again.

Ever since that day, Quenepas had became Hobie's favorite fruit.

[cluelessatthispoint]

Hello hello, im aware that you made a platonic Yandere!engie recently and probably don't want to make another but I can't stop thinking about this idea.

Recently I managed to convince my friend to play TF2 with me and it was...something?? They quite literally spent half an hour trying to "deactivate the smoking" while they played as Spy for some reason and kept shooting at me while they played Engie bc they were trying to get my Spy to stop smoking. It was fun, they got disappointed at the realization but played with me anyways haha.

I was wondering if you could write some platonic yandere!engie with a spy!reader, I just think is a very funny idea for Engie to constantly to try and make them stop smoking is all, specially with Pyro who is nothing but delighted to light reader's cigarettes.

(once again I apologize for bad English from my part and for making an ask about a fairly recent character, hope you have a great day!)

AAAAAHHHH! Yes! YES! platonic yandere Engie gives me serotonin and a reason to live! He is such a weird yandere because of his kindly disposition. THANK YOU! I really like this ask. :)

Warning: Platonic yandere, smoking.

~~~~~~~~

Taking a deep breath, you sigh as you walk through the base. Having won a particularly grueling battle today you could feel some pride well up in your chest as well as a creaking in your bones. It was going to be a rough day tomorrow. Thank goodness it was the last battle of the week. Tomorrow you could rest easy and relax. Thinking about all the plans for tomorrow you smiled to yourself and hummed a happy little tune. The way that the battle was won today was incredible. The soldier did his part phenomenally and you think about how you backstabbed the enemy medic so many times he ended up paranoid around his own teammates. It was a sight to behold. Just thinking about it made you smirk and chuckle slightly.

Just one thing was off....during battle the Engineer on your team kept looking at you. It was weird. It wasn't a mean look or anything...but it gave you the chills. You didn't think he was mad at you. You didn't even do anything to him. As far as you can tell, you both are on pretty good terms with each other. Just the way he acted; it was off putting. Sighing softly, you round the corner and almost bumped into Pyro. The smell of burning and something sweet fills your nostrils. Looking into the gasmask you see your own reflection being reflected back at you.

"Ah, hello Pyro....good job out there today."

He doesn't say a word but holds his hand out with a lighter in it. Flicking the lighter on and off you look at it and let out a small sigh of relief.

"Oh...thank you."

Taking out a cigarette you light the end of it and bring it to your lips. Taking a long slow drag of it you let out a pleased sigh as you feel your body relax. Pyro seemed just as pleased. Clapping his hands together and practically hopping on his toes his happy mumbles break the silence.

Leaning against the wall you and Pyro relax for a while. Pyro looks more to your left and then takes off without a word. You roll your eyes at his antics and continue smoking. Leaning back and closing your eyes you don't notice the sound of someone walking closer until a hand is on your shoulder. Opening an eye you look to your left to see the Engineer.

"Hello Engie...how are you?"

He sighs heavily and reaches a hand to your mouth and plucks the cigarette from in between your lips and drops it on the floor and stomps on it with a huff.

"I hate seein you smoke those things."

You feel your eye twitch, a swell of anger rises within you and you give him a piece of your mind.

"Engie...don't you dare do that again!"

Your words coming out harsher than you liked. The look in his eyes looks dark and hurt...it scares you. Swallowing nervously, you lower your head and apologize softly.

"I-I'm sorry Engineer...I...I didn't mean to-"

He sighs and crosses his arms.

"I hate seeing you hurt yourself this way...If you keep this up, I'm gonna have to hurt you."

His thick Texan drawl mixed with uncharacteristically unkind words made you laugh hard. You look up at him through tears of laughter and stop cold. A pit of dread settles in your stomach...He wasn't laughing....he wasn't even smiling...You looked him in the eyes and freeze. His cold eyes pin you in your spot. Hearing your name being called from down the hallway you took this as a sign and took your chance to escape. You walked away slowly. Leaving Engineer staring after you in the hallway and a feeling of fear in your stomach.

~~~~~

I hope that you enjoy this! I finished my finals and I'm so happy! :)

[je-lurk]

Tips and Tricks to Smooth Your French Translations (When You Don’t Speak French) - a Focus on French-ifying Your Characters

"Oui/Non", "ouais/nan" and variations

Today’s section will broach adverbs of affirmation and negation, as well as their variants, and what their subtext is.

"Oui" and "non" mean, as you probably already know "yes" and "no". So why am I dedicating an entire section to them?

These two words are often used in English dialogues as an easy reminder that one of the characters is French and perhaps does not have a good grip on the language.

Let me tell you, I have never heard in my life someone forgetting the words "yes" and "no". Even people who can’t string a sentence together know what they mean and can use them.

What we can do instead is framing it as a slip. My fellow friends who speak two languages or more know what I’m talking about. When you’re speaking another language, especially when you know enough to understand and speak basic sentences but are not all the way to bilingual, your brain shifts a bit (I don’t have a good way to say it, sorry) so, when you shift back, the words that will come out of your mouth are the first one that comes in mind, and it’s not necessarily in the right language.

Having said all that, why do I get so annoyed at "oui" and "non"? It’s because, to qualify as a slip, it has to feel natural, the first thing that would be said in an informal setting. It is most often not. Allow me to explain:

"Oui" and "non", like "yes" and "no", are formal. These are the words you would hear in a presidential debate, for example. In more casual settings, prononciations tend to diverge.

Which gives us things like "ouais", "moui", "mouais", "nan", "na" (so basically "yeah" and "nah" with varying degrees of pronunciation accuracy), that cover a large array of nuances.

"Ouais" and "nan" have no real nuance behind the tone it is said with but, again, they denote casualness. They can be used to show that you’re character is Chill™, or that they feel at ease in the situation or with their interlocutor(s).

"Moui" and "mouais" (for "yes") are not exclusively positive. Think "mh yes" and "mh yeah" condensed into one word. Needless to say, they are not in the dictionary.

"Mouais" is generally used to agree with something you’re not particularly happy about, or to agree while still having a reserve. You will often hear "mouais" said with a commiserating, a resigned (in a "well, we have to do this, we’re all in it together" kind of way) or a baffled tone.

"Moui," on the other hand, indicates all sorts of shyness, ranging from fake modesty to getting caught red-handed and being ashamed of themself. It can also be in a resigned tone, but this time in a "a child has to do something because their parents told them to, and worst of all they’re right" kind of way.

Examples:

A: "I really don’t like this girl, but you have to admit that she does excellent work."

B: "Mouais…"

B has to agree. She really does a good work. B is annoyed that someone they don’t like is able to do well. Alternatively, B is commiserating with A.

A: "B! You left the cupboard open again! I told you a thousand times, stop doing that!"

B: "Moui…"

B feels guilty because they did forget to close the cupboard. Since it’s just above A’s field of vision, A took the corner of the door at full (walking) speed, right in the forehead. Again.

"Na" is different from "nah". It’s a bit childish, you don’t hear many grown adults say that, even jokingly. It’s a full shut down, and leaves no place for discussion. It is generally followed by an exclamation mark.

Example:

A: "B, it’s time to do your homework."

B: "Na!"

This one is self-explanatory. B is a child that doesn’t want to do their homework. The following discussion will not be a reasonable one.

To wrap this up before we leave the "vibe zone" and enter the academically correct French territory, let’s try all of our options with one sentence:

A: "Hang in there, the holidays are almost there!"

B: "Oui/Ouais."

That is a fact. B feels rather neutral about this. We could extrapolate and say that there is still a week of work left, but there is also only a week of work left. B uses "ouais" with a colleague he gets along with, and "oui" with a boss or a colleague he doesn’t see that much. Choosing the right word is a matter of respect, ease/proximity, and expectations.

"Non" and "nan" work the same as "oui" and "ouais".

B: "Oui/Ouais !"

B is living for their holidays. They can’t clock out soon enough. Choice of word is the same as above.

B: "Mouais."

B is unconvinced. B has a lot of work to do before leaving. B might just be in a little bit of a bad mood. Or A leaves the same day as B and they both know it’s not that fast-approaching.

B: "Moui."

Same as above. B is a slightly more disgruntled.

B: "Mouais !"

B is a little more convinced, but not fully on board. It’s a nice thought to have from time to time, but it gets easily forgotten. It’s definitely not what pushes B through the day. Could also be full-on sarcasm.

B: "Moui !"

That’s right! B hadn’t thought about it. B is probably going to forget about it in half a minute.

B: "Na."

B’s holidays are far from happening. How dare A shove their paid leave in B’s throat? B has one wish, and it’s to go home and sleep for 24 hours straight. People have no respect, these days. B’s last holidays were 6 months ago, and the next one are probably next year.

Academically correct French territory:

I still need to introduce one little word that is extremely important: "si".

"Si" has multiple meanings but, you guessed it, we’ll focus on the "yes" one.

There is one major difference between "oui" and "si", and it’s when to use them.

In French, these are the words used depending on the previous statement:

To confirm a postive statement: "oui" ("yes")

To infirm a positive statement: "non" ("no")

To confirm a negative statement: "non" ("no")

Looks like a pattern, right?

To infirm a negative statement: "si" ("yes")

Well that’s French, for you, can’t trust it.

The thing "si" does is emphasize that we are negating the negative statement in order to make it positive. We’re highlighting the fact that "nope, you’re wrong, have no doubt about it". "Si" makes it extremely clear, there are no hesitation in the interpretation of the answer. I love this word.

Example:

A: "You didn’t eat/Didn’t you eat?"

B: "Si, why do you ask?"

French also often repeat the "si", as in "si, si !"

It’s clear as day, it’s beautiful.

END OF SECTION 2: "OUI/NON", "OUAIS/NAN" AND VARIATIONS

Table of contents | Previous | Next

[elerinna]

Easy

Crocodile x Reader

Sorry for any gramatical error, English isn't my first language.

Being the partner of Crocodile is not easy. Even when it's been years, even when nobody knows you are his significant other. He is not always here, some night he comes in the room to speak a little with me, he even wait until I fall asleep before returning to his job. Some other night when he come earlier I make him diner.

Today wasn't a good day to me. All I wanted was to go in bed and cuddle my big guy. But I am not even sure he'll be here tonight. So finally at home I don't eat, I don't change my clothes, no, I go directly to bed. I take his pillow in my arms and cry a little. When he is not home are the worst days. I fall asleep like that.

When I open my eyes the room is dark. I am sure it's morning so why is the room dark I didn't close the curtains yesterday… I was about to go up but somthing take my shirt and put me back on the bed. There I feel a breath next to me. I look closer and it was Crocodile. I start to feel tears going into my eyes and my throat tighning. I put my head on his chest and fall back asleep as his hand go on my shoulder pulling me more onto him. Maybe it was not the morning after all.

I open my eyes a second time. My head was not anymore on a hard chest but on a soft pillow. The smell of smoke and sand still in the air. The room is still as dark. And his not there anymore, he is never there the morning. I sigh and take again his pillow.

Yesterday was not a good day, nobody wanted to buy my products, and worst of all. A guy flirted with me and he didn't take no for an answer, so he promised to come to my home and prove his love. Who knows what he means by that.

But I'm safe, when we started to live at Alabasta Crocodile had demanded that my house was hidden far from any city's. It's better for him to come here and more safe for me. But still this guy had given me chills.

I stand on the floor and open my door. A strong smell of food go directly to my nose. The face of the guy before come to my head. I take the knife Crocodile gave me and walk slowly to the kitchen. It was a man in the kitchen not a bad one. Just mine. Okay maybe a bad one, but not to me.

The knife fell from my hand but the sand grabed it before it touch the floor. I am still trying to process what is happening, what the hell is he doing here. I run to him but something on the floor make me fall but he take me in his arms. I put my head in his neck inhalling his smell. I grip his clothes with my hands, it's like yesterday never happened. He put me down on a chair and go back to the kitchen without saying anything.

He came back with food. It seems I slept over breakfast. The food on my plate is certeinly crocodile meat, it's the only thing he can cook because it's his favorite food apart from the tomato. We eat together and he spent the evening with me at one point we started to dance in the dining room. He told me that yesterday he was already there when I came home and he decided to take a day off from his plan to take control over the country to spend it with me. He had certainly see me cried to sleep.

Before diner, while I was cooking he came with the guy that harassed me the day before. I froze.

He was trying to break in yesterday. Do you know him ?

I explained to him what he had told me before, and how I feared that he make his word true. A wicked smile took form on his face. A dangerous smile for the guy on his knees between us. He tried to speack but sand blocked his mouth.

So you wont be mad if I take care of him.

I was about to say that killing people was not a good thing, but all the fear he had bring to me came to memory.

No. Please, do whatever you want to him.

My hand started to skake and I return to my cooking. What if Crocodile was not there yesterday ? Is it because of him that he decided to take a day off and not my crying ? Or both ? I heard some screams then nothing. I finished the food and put ketchup on the plate to asesonate.

As I turn Crocodile hadn't move but the guy was on the floor, dead and completly dry of all liquid. I made a face at the corps but try to ignore it.

We eat in silence, then.

Next time don't add Ketchup. I hate that.

I know, I just wanted tu put some sauce.

After the dinner he take the corps out and I wash the dishes. When he come back he lift me and walk to the room.

Hey ! I didn't finished !

Tomorow.

He take off all of our clothes leaving us in undergarnement and lie on the bed with me on him.

You're mine and mine alone. so you don't have to fear the others as long as you are with me they wont lay a finger on you.

I smile and kiss his cheeks.

even Whitebeard ?

I asked to tease him.

Frown, what is this question, woman ? If you want be like the other guy you should just ask.

I laugh, it's not easy to have Crocodile as a boyfriend. He's full of himself, he kill people, he plan to take over a whole country. But we know each other since years and not even the gods could not separate us. Or Whitebeard in some case.

[rileytwenty]

IDIA || an Avatar story (x Neteyam)

Chapter 9

Masterlist

(English Na'vi)

Jake was so pissed that he assigned us both chore lists so long they would last until we were elders.

Thankfully, he had some mercy and mine were all seated tasks; I was supposed to take it easy on my leg for the first three days of recovery.

Tsireya taught me to weave with the tropical plants, and I picked it up rather quickly. I'd always been good with patterns.

Lo'ak taught me to prepare fish and octopus when Tsireya was busy, but he only did so because she asked him to.

Kiri opted to teach me methods of healing, since I was going to need to care for my own wound anyways. I knew which plants were good for medicinal purposes, but she taught me which ones can go together to form pastes and ointments to heal specific injuries. I knew Mo'at would be rather pissed if she knew Kiri was sharing the clan secrets with me.

Through various, mostly uncooperative teachers, I picked up quite a few skills. Enough to make me useful while I stayed off my leg, at least. The day passed in no time with my mind so preoccupied.

Neteyam made his way back to the marui after a long day of physically demanding chores, or so I assumed based on how his shoulders drooped in exhaustion and he kept rubbing at his lower back.

Neytiri had him help pass out the food. He brought a bowl over to where I was sitting with my legs dangling above the water. I took the food from him with a thankful smile, but as he pulled away I noticed his hands were bleeding.

"Neteyam, what happened to-"

"It's nothing, leave it alone."

I hesitated, staring at his injuries, but concluded that I had caused him enough grief and it was better to abide by his wishes.

We ate dinner peacefully, with Kiri and Lo'ak telling stories about their day's adventures. Neteyam sat silently, his mind clearly somewhere far away.

Once dinner was done, eclipse was starting and we settled down with a fire going. Neytiri cuddled into Jake and Lo'ak fell asleep with his head on Kiri's stomach. Tuk came and nuzzled into Neteyam's side, and he let her, wrapping his arm around her little shoulders. I laid down on my own despite the chill, not wanting to insert myself where I was not wanted.

The silent darkness stretched on and I could not have been farther from sleep. It bothered me to know Neteyam had an injury and was not treating it. All he needed to do was apply the same paste I had been given for my sting and it would seal up nicely in a day or so.

It shouldn't be bothering me. He was fifteen, two years away from reaching maturity. He could surely make his own decisions regarding his health.

I approached where he laid with Tuk. He was sleeping soundly now, his breathing even and his expression peaceful-- happy, almost. The usual worry lines that sat above the space between his eyes were gone, and his constant scowl had relaxed itself away.

The red of his hands caught my attention. The bleeding had not stopped, and there was pink around the edges of the lacerations. Signs of infection.

"Neteyam," I whispered to him, gently shaking his shoulder. It was hard to rouse him without disturbing Tuk, but I accomplished it after a minute or two.

"Idia? What's wrong? What's happening?" His eyes scanned the marui, searching for a threat.

"Nothing's wrong, I just wanted to look at your hands," I explained quietly.

He let his head fall back to the floor with a huff. "I told you it was nothing. Why are you bothering my sleep? I am tired today."

A flash of regret and guilt crossed my thoughts. Though, I had already woken him.

"Then let me treat the wounds quickly so you can get back to sleep sooner."

"Idia, let it go." He growled, snuggling further into Tuk and preparing to continue sleeping.

I grabbed his upper arm and slid him away from Tuk. It took more effort than I was expecting to haul him sideways, but I committed to the task and struggled through it.

I gestured for him to come towards the storage container holding my medicine. "Come on, I will be fast about it."

He grumbled in irritation but followed me. I had a feeling the cuts were bothering him more than he was letting on.

He sat crisscross, and I kneeled in front of him as I retrieved the bowl of paste from the wooden storage box. He held his hands out in front of him for me, but refused to look at me. I realized how embarrassed he must be needing help from me of all people.

"You don't need to be embarrassed," I commented as I began to apply the paste. This drew his eyes to my face, but I remained focused on applying the medicine correctly.

"We all need help sometimes. I know you would prefer it not to be from me, but hey-- at least my opinion of you isn't as important as your family's. They never have to know that the perfect warrior son actually required help for once,” I laughed, trying to comfort him.

Quicky, I had finished with the paste and it had soaked in well. It contained numbing agents, so hopefully it was hurting less already. I could feel that he was still staring at me.

"Do you really feel that way?" He asked incredulously. Our eyes finally met as I looked up at him.

"What way?"

"Like I wouldn't want your help? Like I think your opinion doesn't matter as much?"

I scoffed and gave him a 'you're kidding, right?' look.

His expression didn't falter from concern.

"I think you've all made it very clear that I am not welcome as one of you. I'm only here because the RDA is looking for me and we need to protect the clan, not because any of you want me here."

"I don't want you to feel that way." He admitted seriously, not breaking his gaze. It made my heart warm, just for a milisecond, and then ithe feeling soured.

"You wouldn't say that if your mother could hear you." I pursed my lips and stood up, returning to where I had been trying to sleep.

He sat there for a moment, watching me, before returning to Tuk.

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[authorchia]

R: 1999 RAMBLES (⁠✯⁠ᴗ⁠✯⁠)

I consider myself as a newbie and casual player of the R: 1999 fandom so my knowledge of the game may be limited and I'm not confident of my vocabularies since English is not my first languange, just letting yall know :V

I'm gonna be as nuanced as possible as I ramble through my opinions, so if you find this interesting, I'd like to see yall's opinions too! (Remember to be respectful!)

Alright so the thing that I wanna get it off my chest is that, is it just me or there has been no discourse/drama about R: 1999 till today? I know the game was released hardly a year ago, but really the fandom is pretty chill and I'm very grateful for that, even though I'm not an active participant.

I had a thought it's because the twitter cops/"puritans" can't see any visible advantage to make ANYTHING a useless drama. I was both in the GI and HSR fandom as a spectator, seeing news about them bitching and policing people about the same topics over and over again (truly saddening). But I might dare say R: 1999 is not an easy target for them because it has:

- Diverse characters, both ethnicity and species wise iykyk

- Diverse VAs for characters that are not Americans (ex. Zima, Shamane, Sonetto, Matilda, etc.)

- Stunning and unique artstyle (for me at least, because it's not really your generic anime style if you really squint)

- Killer character designs that speaks where they from and their personality

- Compelling storytelling both for the characters' backstory, story events and main story

- MOST if not ALL characters have their age explicitly stated in their bio

- GENEROUS amount of Drops and moderately easy to get

- Farming resources are generous and easy to get with if your characters' level are enough to beat the critters

- Gameplay/Battle system is engaging in its own way

- No questionable clothings on minor characters

The only things that they would try to make drama/discourse are:

- How boring the gameplay is (which is almost an insult) <- have seen an example on Tiktok

- Ship discourses because it's the only thing any fandom fans and non-fans have a war about, which is utterly stupid and brainrotting

- Any genuine problematic things like problematic creators seeping into the crack. It can be done by a block button or callout doc if they're endangering the fandom's space

-Any immature, chronically online behaviors that you see on the internet (both minors and adults)

TLDR: I'm not saying Reverse: 1999 is the pinnacle of what games should be, but it's really hard not to notice its uniqueness that other game lacks. Let's just hope people won't be behaving out of place, and if they do, we could either educate them patiently or ignore them completely. NOT immediately ostracizing and being aggressive towards them as it will light up the fire and potentially burn the whole forest.

That's all I have go say. If you made it this far, WOW! Thanks for stopping by and read this unhinged ramble! Have a milk and cookies for compensation, friend 🥛🍪🍪🍪

I hope in the future, the game and its fandom will flourish with passionate creators and gamers. Maybe they could make Indonesian-based events! I would love that actually... But for now, I will wait for Shamane's banner teehee :3c