#given my name accent and grammatical errors

[faitsansorganes]

next time someone immediately switches to English with me because I can't fucking hear what they're saying or I'm just taking a while to process what they said because my auts are tismed I'm just fucking killing myself in front of them (don't open the tags unless you want to see me complaining too much)

[citrinebahng]

Moments 01 | bang chan

Characters: Bang Chan x female reader (y/n)

Genre: idol oneshot (both are idols)

⁘ idol series | bc

Warnings: mentions of getting hurt (getting cut), brief mentions of blood, kind of drowning in a non die-ish way(?), random povs (first person, second, third), grammatical errors, grammatical errors and lots of grammatical errors

A/N: I hope you guys excuse my writing. Lemme know if you want more details/parts from each scenario<3

Word Count: 951

Summary: After your relationship has been made public, it didn't take long for the both of you to take advantage of the times whenever you two meet in public and show some pda, giving fans the butterflies with your encounters.

1

Y/n and her group was nominated for best song of the year on MAMA, along with her being nominated for best OST. The girls were admired for their hard work and how fast their success was even being only 3 years in the industry.

Being on the red carpet was a thrill for the girls. Multiple big idols and groups were seen in the event including Stray Kids.

The red carpet, hosts and cameras and fans warmly greeted the girls. They introduced themselves and hosts started asking them a few questions about the group and a few about y/n and Chan's relationship.

Though it was hard to not get shy about it, she tried to keep things professional by not over sharing and getting all the attention about the relationship instead of the group's achievement.

Later on, Chan and y/n were seen greeting each other and some fans mentioned about a forehead kiss he gave her.

2

Chan often has vlives to interact with fans. It has been a few weeks after both of your companies have released their official statements confirming the dating rumors.

Just as the live was starting, fans started commenting and asking about the relationship, but Chan wasn't really paying much attention until in the middle of the live for he was busy talking about the song 3racha was working on, casually oversharing about what it's going to be about.

"'Chan, what can you say about y/n getting nominated and winning this year's Best OST Award?'" He said with his aussie accent as he read the comment, getting a little shy as he read your name.

"Um, I can really say that she, uh, they, deserved it very much. And that they've been working really hard for it, and I know how badly she wanted to win alongside with her group." He spoke.

3

You and Chan have been recently invited to a variety show where k-celebrity couples were to play missions while traveling different places in South Korea.

In one episode, you were brought to a water falls, hidden in the mountains.

Cameras captured moments when Chan would help you climb slippery roads, he'd hold your hand and would ensure your safety even before his.

When you guys reached the place, you then got ready to swim in the water along with your boyfriend and your other friends.

"Wow, after all that walking we finally got here!" Whein, one of your co-hosts said.

"It's really worth it once you get here." Another added.

You were given missions and games to do when you started taping, but mainly it was all about you guys swimming in the falls.

You were so excited to swim that once you got there, you weren't even talking to Chan and was busy swimming, talking to friends and finding fishes that weren't even there.

Whenever Chan felt like the cameras weren't directed to him or you, he'd swim silently to get to you and would jokingly scare you out of the blue.

You'd sometimes hold onto his shoulders whenever he swims, dragging you along with him where ever he went.

One time, he suddenly went down while you were behind him, holding onto his bare shoulders making you unintentionally drink some of the water.

At first he was laughing because of how red your nose became. But then you were already crying because you felt overwhelmed.

"Oh my, are you okay y/n?" Krystal said.

"Ah Chan what did you do?" Seungmin added.

"I'm sorry baby," He said as he wiped the tears and stray hair out of your face and gave you a forehead kiss that made everyone feel butterflies.

"Are you okay?" He asked and you nodded, confirming that you were okay.

4

You would often visit Chan in his dormitory and spend some nights over. Though you were dating for 4 years, you guys didn't really rush things and keeping things old school, you guys would get married first before settling down and live together. But that was far ahead since you both were focusing on your career.

The day you went over, he was having a vlive in his bedroom. So you didn't bother and went to the kitchen after letting him know that you already arrived.

You were cooking food that he loved since it was near their comeback and he was very stressed about getting everything perfect to not disappoint fans.

Just then, in the middle of his live, you somehow open the door forgetting that he was live, showing him your quickly bleeding finger.

"I don't really want to give spoilers but-" He cut in the middle of his sentence, when he saw you there, bleeding.

"Hey," He left his phone on the bed and went to you directly.

"I was cutting veggies, and," you said through your little sobs.

Ever since you were young, you have always been scared of blood. They made you feel anxious and sick.

He was comforting you through your sobs as he went over to his bed with you and reached for the drawers that probably had first-aid.

The comments were confused why they were hearing sobs, where Chan was (since he can't be seen in the frame) and what happened.

Since you already washed your hands, he quickly wrapped your finger with gauze and wrapped tape to secure it.

After comforting you, you went back to the living room as Chan said he'd be the one to take care of dinner.

He then explained what had happened to fans and they immediately started praising him for prioritizing her and comforting her calmly. He answered a few more questions before ending the live and helping you cook in the kitchen.

[missmaywemeetagain]

Pink Scarf - PART 3! (Elvis/Austin!Elvis x Reader)

Character/Fandom: Elvis - Elvis (2022)

Requested: kinda

(Read more here--Pink Scarf Series Masterlist!)

Prompt: You are part of Elvis Presley's coveted inner circle, and the currently-disgruntled wife of one of the members of Elvis' famous entourage, the Memphis Mafia. After Elvis' dynamite first performance in Vegas, you find yourself in deep water when his magnetism finally gets to you after all these years.  [ Fem!Reader ]

TW: Sex. Oral (f receiving). Cussing. Infidelity. Historical inaccuracies in the Vegas timeline. Priscilla doesn't exist in this timeline.  

Rating: Explicit/Mature (NSFW, 18+, so minors Do NOT Interact)   ||     Word Count: 2611

A/N: The smut is finally here, y'all! I'm gonna be totally honest--I've never put smut on public display before, so I really hope it's okay/readable. Thank you again for all your support, reblogs, and comments--they sincerely make my day so much better and keep me excited about writing! Just so you know, Part 4 will be a smutty continuation of Part 3, if y'all want it...

I imagined this with Elvis in mind, but Austin!Elvis works here, too, whatever floats your boat!

Apologies in advance if there are any grammatical errors or TW that I didn't catch.

The knock at the door startles you and you sit up straight, your heart pounding so hard it shakes your ribcage.

Relax. There’s no way. He wouldn’t leave the penthouse…he never goes anywhere without the entourage. He probably just sent Jerry down to check on me, you try and convince yourself, but the pounding of your heart does not subside.

The knock comes again, sharp and insistent, prompting you to warily make your way to the door and open it.

Elvis.

Your heart stops.

Elvis stands there, leaning against the doorjamb, with ferocity in his eyes before pushing his way into the room.

You barely have time to be surprised as you stumble backwards to counter his advance.

“Honey, we weren’t done talkin’,” he says sternly. His annoyance is obvious in the way he is clenching his jaw and his eyes are narrowed.

Your mouth opens and closes but no words come out. You cannot believe he followed you down here.

“I don’t like hearin’ you’re unhappy, y/n, so I’m settlin’ to fix that.” His accent is stronger than usual, tainted with his frustration. He shakes his finger at you, that signature gold bracelet of his, the one encrusted with diamonds that spell out his name, glinting in the lamplight.

You suppose you should feel angry yourself, with him barging in here like this, but instead, his hotheadedness is making you feel something else entirely.

“And how exactly are you gonna do that, Elvis? How are you gonna make me happy?” you finally speak, the challenge coming out sultry, your breathing quickening. You are shocked at your own boldness, but that coil in your belly has wound its way into your mind, dampening your usual propriety and common sense.

He steps towards you, but this time you don’t back up, only raising your eyes to meet his. The annoyance in his eyes transforms into that heated, dangerous look from earlier, blackening his usually bright irises.

His long pointer finger raises up to trace the lightning bolt on the gold and diamond TLC necklace you’d forgotten is still hanging around your neck, the necklace he’s given you that marks you as one of the elite women in the inner circle around him. The necklace which you almost never take off.

“I take care of what’s mine,” Elvis says, voice deep and vibrating. The implication is clear, sending a pleasurable shudder down your spine.

You know you are off the rails now. Every cell in your body is screaming for him, his touch. Your breath is shallow, quick, waiting for his next move. And all your concerns and objections from earlier are burned away, forgotten, buried somewhere deep below the spell he has you under.

But when you look into his eyes now, all you see is fire, well controlled fire, which sends a thrill into your belly. Those blazing eyes never leave yours as he slowly pulls on the tie of your robe, undoing the knot, letting it fall open. The room’s cool air rolls over your warm body, sending a visible, trembling shiver through you. He gently pushes the robe over your shoulders, watching as it slips down your arms, finally pooling at your feet.

His fingers, calloused from so many years of guitar playing, flit over your collarbone and down your bare arm, his thumb brushing the satiny fabric of your nightgown along the way. Your heart flutters at the contact, starved for him, but unable to move. Gooseflesh rises on your skin, both from the cold of the heavily air-conditioned room and from the sensation of his touch.

It does not go unnoticed that your nipples have hardened under the thin fabric. Elvis smiles a coy little smile, his hands finding your waist, and then he walks you backwards, bringing you with him to the edge of the bed. He pulls you down onto the bed with him so smoothly, you barely have time to register the change because you are so focused on the heated way he’s looking at you.

His lips meet yours at the same exact moment he trails those fingers deftly over the satin, over the hard bud of your nipple, causing your mouth to open to him as your body arches up, desperate for his touch. He sucks briefly at your bottom lip and your entire body is dowsed in heat.

He goes achingly slow, completely in control, nearly driving you mad. Nibbling his way down your neck, he takes the thin strap of your nightie in his teeth, dragging it down your shoulder. You can’t help the little gasp that escapes you as he kisses and licks his way back up and over your décolletage to do the same to the other strap. Gravity wins as the top of your night gown slips down, leaving your breasts bare before him.

Elvis, pleased with his work, looks you over hungrily. You tremble in response, so incredibly aroused that every small touch feels monumental, so when he takes a taught nipple into his mouth, you think you might actually pass out. The moan that comes from you is indecent, and his response of swirling your nipple with his tongue causes you to dig your nails into his shoulders.

Bolder now, you grab at the pink scarf he is still wearing around his neck, pulling him up to kiss him deeply, your tongue needy in his mouth. This finally gains you the response you’re after—a low growl against your mouth, rumbling up from his chest as he loses a little of that self-control, pinning you down on the bed with his long, lean body.

One hand is at your neck, winding in your hair, his thumb caressing your jaw as he devours your mouth, while the other explores your breasts, your back, your waist. Every one of his touches leaves a trail of fire on your body, snaking down towards your core.

You need more of him, yearning to feel his skin on yours. Groping for the buttons on his jacket, you are eternally grateful for his daring fashion choice of not wearing a shirt, because once you succeed in popping the buttons, he is already bare for you. Your hands do what they’ve wanted to all night—raking up his torso, feeling the dark hair of his chest beneath the palms of your hands, the pounding of his heart that gives his true feelings away.

Elvis rips away from you just long enough to shirk off the jacket, leaving you to admire his tan skin and lightly sculpted arms in the process. You notice how flushed he is, the pink of his lips as they curve up into that million-dollar smile. His brilliance blows you away even more now, because in this moment, he is all yours: all that brilliance is directed at you, and it’s like nothing you’ve ever experienced in your life. If your body wasn’t so desperate for him, you might be frozen in awe at the gorgeous man above you.

Taking that silky scarf from around his neck, he kisses you deeply. While you are leaning up to meet him, he slides the scarf around your neck pulling you into him. Then he begins a barrage of kisses down your body that leaves you sighing his name like a mantra, his lips so soft but oh so hot as they blaze over your breasts and your belly. He surprises you then by sinking to his knees on the floor in front of you, opening your knees and sliding his body in between them.

Holy shit. Is this really happening?

He lifts your nightie up and nibbles at your hips over your black cotton panties, sending a shockwave over you as you twitch up into him. Then Elvis’ head is between your thighs, kissing the sensitive skin from your knee all the way up near where you want him most. You prop up on your forearms to look down at him, wild with anticipation, but with that upper lip curving into a sly smirk, he quirks his eyebrow and skips over to your other thigh, kissing all the way back down to your knee. He looks so fucking sexy doing it, you forgive him for teasing you, laying back with a sigh.

He massages up your legs now, and when his thumbs just barely graze under the cotton of your panties, you nearly levitate off the bed. You are already embarrassingly wet, which when discovered, earns another pleased smirk from below. Now he teases you, first with the tip of his thumb tracing your panty line, then peppering kisses over the same spot. The heat swelling inside you causes you to white-knuckle the covers on the bed with growing desperation.

In response, he gives you just a little more, tonguing your most sensitive spots through the wet cotton, driving you fully mad and sending you writhing up against him. You scratch into his scalp, begging for more, but he pulls away slightly, pressing a hand into your pelvis to keep you from trying to follow.

“Is there something you need, lil’ mama?” His voice is so raspy and low that the vibrations from it alone threaten to consume you.

You groan in response, clutching the covers once again.

“So stubborn,” he tsks with a grin, “Use your words, baby.” His hot breath dances over the core of your panties, and the anticipation is so intense, the heat so powerful, you feel like you could combust from the inside out.

“Please, Elvis, please,” you finally relent, panting.

His eyes, blown dark and mischievous and playful, dance at you. “Good girl.”

Finally, he loops his fingers around your panties, dragging them down and off your legs. If you weren’t so on fire, you might feel bashful about the slick they bring down your thighs with them, but the moment they are off and he pulls you forward to the edge of the bed, all thought ceases to exist. He places your knees over his shoulders before returning his attention to you.

The moment those soft, plump lips of his kiss your clit, the fire in your belly roars, sending your hips flying and a whimper escaping your lips. You feel him smile against you, delighted with your response.

Elvis knows what he’s doing, and it surprises you a little. You’d never taken him for a generous lover, you just always assumed he didn’t have to be with all the women falling at his feet. But obviously, he’s learned some tricks along the way—God knows he’s barely touched you and you are already putty in his hands.

Then he flattens his tongue against you, licking a long, hard stripe over your slit before rolling it over your clit like a fucking pussy-eating magician.

“Elvis!” you cry, unable to contain yourself, digging your fingers into his soft black hair, lest he try to tease you again. He must get the hint because his tongue dances, flits over your sensitive nub, building the heat inside you. He runs it through your folds expertly, sometimes lightly, sometimes with more pressure, coaxing you right where he wants you. It feels like he is tracing lyrics into your clit with his tongue, occasionally darting it up inside you, tasting you from the inside. The pleasure coils tighter and tighter, but he senses it, not letting you go over the edge.

You roll against him, hands in his hair, praising the gods as he fucks you with his beautiful mouth, finding yourself closer to the sun with each breath.

Suddenly, he leans back on his heels, and you whine in dismay, propping yourself up to look at him with a pout. He looks so handsome, his mouth slick with you and eyes on fire, that you almost forgive him. Then, watching your reaction carefully, he slides a long finger inside of you without warning.

Throwing your head back, you gasp, hips bucking in surprise, not expecting the penetration. You are so wet that he slides in easily, but you are very taut around him.

“So tight for me, baby,” Elvis purrs. “Goddamn, when was the last time you got fucked, lil’ mama? You just been waiting for me?” He gently pumps his finger inside you, feeling you out, stretching you, observing every little response. Then he curves his finger, testing, until he finds that spot that makes you fly.

“Yes, oh god, yes,” you groan, his filthy words coupled with his deft finger sending a wave of intense pleasure crashing over you. You honestly don’t even remember the last time you had sex and you feel so starved for it, you begin to pump against his hand. The wet noises coming from you are absolutely obscene, but you don’t care at all. You don’t care about anything in the world other than the way Elvis Presley is making you feel right this moment.

This seems to make him happy. When he returns his tongue to the attention of your clit at the same time he plays you from the inside, it is not long before you are careening to the edge. This time, he lets you. He hums against you, then he slides a second finger into you with a low growl, pumping only a few times before you see stars.

Your body tenses against him, and your breath hitches so hard that your heart skips a beat. You fall so hard and so fast that you feel like you’re thrown out of your body, moaning as that coil of fire in your belly finally unravels and blissfully explodes inside you.

It's been a long, long time since a man satisfied you, and not one had ever made you see stars.

Elvis continues with gentle strokes as you come down from the heavens, easing you back into your body. Puling those long fingers out of you, he replaces them, lapping up your orgasm with his tongue. The overstimulating sensation nearly has you over the edge again.

Oh my god, oh my god, ohmigod, you think, then realize you are murmuring it aloud as he sits back with an altogether content and heavily aroused look on his ridiculously gorgeous face.

He leans back, then crawls up the bed to join you there, kissing you long and deep. You can taste yourself on his mouth and it drives you wild.

Your body trembles with aftershocks, doused in hormones. You cannot believe that Elvis-Fucking-Presley just gave you the best orgasm of your entire life. You begin giggling uncontrollably at the absurdity, at how good you feel for the first time in ages, putting your hands over your face to try and stop laughing.

Then he’s above you, looking at you with almost a shy smile, his eyes shining with arousal, and it sends you into another peal of laughter.

“I’m sorry, oh my god, I can’t stop…it was just…I mean, that was…wow…just…wow,” you try to explain, gasping with giggles, praying he doesn’t think you are laughing at him.

“I made you happy, didn’t I, honey?” he asks, voice soft and low, eyes searching you as he brushes your hair off your face.

Your giggles subside when you realize he did exactly what he said he was going to do. “Yes, Elvis, you made me very happy,” you reply more seriously, giving him another kiss.

Then he’s lying next to you, chuckling with you, his laugh breathy and boyish and somehow musical at the same time.

“That’s good, baby, cuz I ain’t done with you yet,” he adds huskily.

A shiver of anticipation runs through you.

This is gonna be a long night.

**

Taglist:

@atombombbibunny @yesimwriting @uselessbutinteresting @mirandastuckinthe80s @dark-as-love @domaniquessidehoe

Reblogs, likes, comments + feedback are extremely appreciated! Please help support your content creators!

[seb-owns-these-tatas]

Puppet Strings

Please don’t police the shit out of me for this one (I’ve read and seen all of what’s happening in Tumblr with the talented authors 😭😫---either way, I DGAF if I get judged for writing this. Y’all are getting this for free. LMAO. Welcome to my freakin’ kinky world. 😭

MASTERLIST

Characters: Stephen Colley x Reader

Summary: You’ve had Stephen wrapped around your finger by using your family’s kindness to your advantage---keeping him guilty and complying over whatever wishes you wanted---he was giving it due to your manipulative, cunning persona. You were being head-over-heels for him that made you have your reasons, thinking that being the way you are was fine for your strong obsession. 

Warnings: NSFW 18+ Manipulative reader. Obsessed reader. This is quite dark for me because she’s using our puppy to her benefit (somehow?)---using Stephen as if he’s her boy toy. Spitting. Sub!Stephen. Porn with a plot. (Though, this was planned to only be porn without a plot LMAO) Dub-con. Exhibitionism. Angst? Thirsty ass reader. Not connected to the plot of the movie.

Words: 3,810+

A/N: I didn’t know what happened that this ended up this way. Please don’t judge my soul for this.I was all ‘oh my baby stephen’ to writing this filthy shit. Also, Stephen’s 20 in this and the reader is 19, okay? So, legal. (In my country it is) ENJOY, FILTHY LADIES! This made me pout because of how soft Stephen is and the reader is quite...Eh. 😭 I think this will be a 3-5 part fic. Heehee. Or maybe not----lmao. We’ll see. 

Don’t forget to REBLOG, COMMENT OR GIVE FEEDBACK IF YOU DID LOVE THIS PART! IT’LL MAKE ME SMILE! Sorry for the grammatical errors and such because English isn’t my mother tongue! PLEASE LEAVE FEEDBACK AFTER READING, BB!  

Disclaimer: PNG’s and pictures used in edits are not mine even the GIF’s too. However, the edits and this fanfic is definitely from moi.

MY WORKS ARE NOT NOT NOT NOT NOOOOOOT TO BE POSTED ON ANY OTHER WEBSITES. My official username in Wattpad is “TATATHEPOTATO” and that’s the only other site I have for writing aside from Tumblr. Thank you, Tater tots!

THE SMELL OF BLUEBELLS WAS ARDENT AND SWITH, it's scent thoroughly withstanding and wafting through your nose with the odor of sweat. Stephen's earthy and musk scent adding more stimulation to what was being given down south and around the canvas of your breasts.

An ample amount of slime trailed a path from the swell of your knockers through the meander of your neck, feeling a pair of soft, delicate lips having its way and paving to have a suck; thrilled and exploratory over giving you a mark that you surely ordered him around to.

You've felt the tiny nibbles on your neck, feeling full over being filled by the cock of your family's lackey who happened to be under your manipulative, presumptuous fingers. Stephen was having his way with you, as he was commanded to do so in the middle of harvesting crops; all sweaty, dirty and masking in his domestic labor as your fingers hooked along his belt hoops, pulling him away from the field towards a veiled place where bluebells were filled.

The first time you've had sex with Stephen, he was beyond hesitant. His rosy cheeks fueled as if it was on fire from the moment you've asked him for more of his services; to be the one to take your virginity rather than a rich, middle aged man who had terrible mustaches that crept the heck out of you.

Stephen and his pure innocence understood your favors of help by wanting him to accompany you in the city while you buy things for yourself or stuff that your mother asked to buy.

Much to your dismay for his lack of apprehension, It wasn't the type of aid you were asking for.

How pretty his face flushed a lot more from how you've frankly told him that you needed a different type of assistance to satisfy that curiosity of yours made you giggle, the desire pooling more in the pit of your stomach, filling in the prurient passion as if it was enough to stimulate you.

Stephen Colley was utterly pretty, beyond God's work as he was sculpted with a face of a Greek God as people have been saying. Your family even admiring God's work of art by how he was created; enough to be painted and inspired to be sculptured in the museums. He was the first boy in your fantasies and the only one that could make you breathe deep breaths in between rubbing the itch in your mound as you explored your body by yourself that nobody ever had yet.

He was your fantasy. The boy in your dreams that you would gladly want to have in your life for years end.

After welcoming the afterglow of an orgasm, such debauched thoughts came into your head in the same time you've wanted to rub onto that button again for thinking about him.

You were going to have him. You wanted him, you've mindlessly convinced yourself. Stephen was a plague that could infect your precious little mind---the facade of an innocent, kind and shy sweetheart that your family has been seeing from you was ruined when you've reached puberty.

It wasn't helping that Stephen walked around the house with clothes that you surely want to ruin. Your mind being influenced by your older sister's experiences with men and how her sex life have been.

She was a wild one and deep inside---no matter how much you tell yourself that it was a deed that people respectfully hold onto, the untamed part of you wanted to experience it with the boy who had adorable rosy cheeks and a gorgeous accent that could make you gush.

Being in line with the heavens, you were lucky Stephen was quite naive despite being a year older than you and with all the plans you had inside your head, being manipulative and guilt-tripping him till he would obey was the only answer for him to accept your offers because the boy was beyond nice and respectful, innocent---delicate as he may seem in being a rose without thorns amongst the bundle of daisies growing along the field.

You weren't his first to be honest; hearing that he had his virginity taken by a lady when he was taking a trip to the city, the woman being older than him and enamored by his beauty, she was very pretty as Stephen saw her the first time---growing a little crush before the lady has offered him a night filled with pleasure, leaving him alone the next morning and a ton of cash that has left him heartbroken by expecting a number or a sweet filled morning with her.

Was this obsession you had for Stephen? you couldn't tell while having the luck of being boffed by him no matter how tentative he may been. The phrase you've been telling whenever he was reluctant held a powerful will for making him capitulate over your wishes.

'You're working for us---I'm your miss. Shouldn't you always follow what I have to say, Stephen?'

Guileful and conniving for you, but you've had no other choice especially when you've heard your sister gossip about how he was starting to take a liking over a girl across the neighborhood, the lady living in a castle---going way back with him and her family because they've known each other since they were kids until they've moved away and came back to their hometown.

Cassandra. That was her name. It was a name that should be left forgotten in Stephen's mind.

Your boy shifted in between your opened legs, your dress hiked up and his trousers unbuttoned; stopping on the end of his derriere as he stuck his swollen cock inside your tight folds, kissing and licking along your throat and breasts that had you mewling beneath him.

Begging him to take you in the middle of the grass to relieve that fantasy only he could satisfy, you've laid beneath him and promised that he could take his time and do whatever he pleases. Exploring every inch and depth of your body with your dress being in a bunch and unfastened by Stephen. Today, you've just wanted to feel him, touch him and let him be inside you because of certain feelings that can't be resisted.

He was patiently taking his time, both of you basking in the afternoon glow before dusk and never bringing in a gas lamp before night even arrives. Stephen was licking your taut nub, his mouth close to your nipple as his hot breath was fanning along his own saliva, bringing pleasure and satisfaction. Another weak whimper erupted from your mouth, watching his eyes closed; tongue darting out to flick your other hardened nipple before deeply moaning out his approval as he devoured your breasts with a tight, strong suck.

The lewd action was enough to make your spine and toes curl.

You've flexed your cunt, tightening around his girth and you've heard him lowly groan with your nipple in his mouth. He immediately pulled his mouth off your breasts with a pop. Innocent, lust-filled baby blues stared above you, the flicker in his eyes asking and waiting for your next behest.

"Stephen," was the only word you managed to croak out, sounding like you were being choked as you felt him slowly pull out of your thirsty cunt. He leaned his head to the left, dipping his head and giving you a kiss which caught you off-guard; it was plain and enough to take your mind off his throbbing cock that has slithered in. After being explored by his mouth on your body, Stephen's lips that landed on you to give a peck surely felt unfamiliar because you both rarely do share kisses in the midst of intercourse.

His crimson colored lips on yours felt divine. The sudden smooch probably involuntary in his part because of how sexually intimate you were being with him. You've swallowed the moan forming in your throat by feeling him wholly pull out, moaning and whining from the lack of imbue and by forcing yourself not to have your way with his lips---wanting nothing but to dance your mouth with his.

You knew this was a one-sided affection and he didn't entirely adored you like how you do for him.

Your fingers gripped onto the grass on either side, it traveled and clasped around Stephen's neck that felt balmy beneath the pad of your fingers. Drops of perspiration smoothening out as you watched him pant above you, breathless and in a daze. His cheeks turning rosier and crimson from such scabrous act you've brought him in.

He was heavy and scathing on your thigh. His hand grabbing onto the growing base of his throbbing, uncut, hard cock as he looked between you both, a shaky breath leaving his lips as he was feeling his cock on his hands, fingers enclosing around his girth to give it one jerk that made you salivate.

His neck was sweating, drops of perspiration falling along his temples and to distract yourself, you've darted your tongue out to sweep the sweat off his face, catching him off guard that made him throatily groan and cast you a look, his eyes withdrawn and thoroughly focused on what taboo you tried to help him be accustomed with.

The place you decided to be ravished on was rather risquè but also getting you more thrilled to know that your sister knew this spot as a location you always spend time with whenever you were reading. You've heard tiny shuffling of bushes which made Stephen look away and observe whoever that was with his eyebrows knotted together---distracting him and pushing the worry away just like you always do, you've quietly whispered in his ear.

"Put that cock in me, Stephen. Please,"

At the sound of you pleading, it was enough to pull his thoughts away from being concerned over your family catching you both in such a raunchy moment. Their daughter laid amongst the land, being ravished by their worker who they've trusted for all their heart---a boy whom they didn't expect to be salaciously connected with you.

The both of you were in for a tough scolding if caught.

Pointing the head of his cock in your entrance, he'd swiftly drove in. You were wet enough for him to slip inside with the right tightness of your cunt that pushed him to grunt as he filled you in one go. Your back curled from the penetration, the thirst for sexual gratification being answered by Stephen when he started to thrust his hips, experimenting over the pace that could make you moan around his arms before pummeling like how he wanted to.

"Oh yeah---yeah---yes, just like that," you've choked in your own moans and pleasure, licking your lips and watching how he was defiling your cunt with his cock, your slick moisturizing his---the filthy sound of your juices coating his, thrusting in and out of your folds; becoming music to the sound of insects probably watching how you were both sending each other raptures.

Stephen knew how thrilled you were becoming by the audible sound of how filthy he was making you feel. Being aware of the obscene sound whenever he tries to fasten the pace, slowing down to let you both appreciate the erotic sense of debauchery has gotten you biting your lip up at him.

You were his miss and whatever you wanted was his job to give.

He'd slip a hand in between you, the pad of his thumb finding your clit and when he did, Stephen started rubbing that throbbing nub of yours in rough, circular motions making your core jerk, your hips chasing his hand with each thrust he gives; entirely accepting and embracing the sheer pleasure he was giving.

Your boy was deeply grunting with each shove of his hips, his cock befouling your scheming soul and you were loving every moment---cherishing the sounds he create that only you could muster.

Only you, not Cassandra---not anyone.

In the midst of such onslaught and currently trapped in your own bliss, you've never took heed of Stephen panting out your name; thinking that he was bemoaning his desperation for continuously prodding your hole in a greedy pace, his carping had a flicker of perturbation in his diluted, lust-filled baby blues as he tried to catch your attention.

"Miss---Miss," Stephen couldn't stop his smutty assaults. Too concentrated on reaching both of your highs as he peered down at you with his peepers growing larger when he heard your name being called from afar; being an echo of warning that what you were both caught up with was utterly unchaste.

"---your family---ugh---they're seeking for you," he grunted with every word and plunge; his pace never stopping and his fingers reaching further down to polish your clit. Your leak being spread all over your folds as he licked his lips, admiring how you were writhing beneath his body---how you reacted to his ministrations.

Their voices echoed from afar, alerting you both that they were closer than you imagined them to be. It was the dead of the night already, the time after nightfall as you both welcomed the sins of passion that you have gotten Stephen to be involved in again. Being in the shadows of the night, the moment was easier to covert from your family as you laid to satisfy your mania. The ruffle of grass being stepped on repeatedly actually has been the sound of Stephen ardently violating your cunt along the land of dew.

You've both turned your heads to see light coming from the far distance. A buzz of incomprehensible words of unknown from your sister who was mindlessly telling her hunches as to where you both went; remembering that Stephen was also not around for her to ask if he could buy stuff around town because it was already night time.

"Oh, yes!---don't mind them!---just do me,"

He slowed down his pace, skeptical over being caught but never stopping his thrusts while his features turned conflicted over being dubious and also feeling like he was floating for the twist of elation written on your face from his drives. You've grabbed onto his hair, roughly turning his head to face yours as he loudly grunted and groaned above you, the sound made you slip a finger on his lips to shush his moans.

"You're not going to get caught---we're not going to get caught. Just stifle your moans. You can do that. You're a good boy---our good boy and you'll make me cum, right?"

The whispers you've managed to slip past your lips made him stare down at you, understanding what you were trying to point out and it has not been seconds before he'd nodded before you, starting his relentless pace that made you sigh as he was trying to build up your orgasm again, grabbing onto your ankle and hooking it around his hip as he continued to forge himself in you; his breath hitting your face with every push---grunts being uncontrolled from the actions.

You've heard a twig break from behind, not wanting Stephen to be distracted---you've grabbed onto his face and forced him to look at you; your heart beat never ceasing to run fast whenever he stares into your eyes. The fast heart beat also being the cause of your orgasm coming.

He'd shifted in between you, your hips bucking to meet every thrust he offered. Mewling out lewd moans whenever he hits that spot that felt so heavenly. Reaching for his hand, you've guided him back to where he has been flicking---your clit that he immediately rubbed on as you were approaching your high.

Loud, rough grunts came from his throat, feeling his own coming as your cunt gripped him hard for the sounds he was creating. Your mouth and face contorted in sheer pleasure when you've violently thrashed against his hold. Stephen's unconscious response was to grab onto you, keeping you closer to his lean, muscular body---a wiry sculpted body from all the hard work that he does for your family; convulsing in his arms as you gushed around his penetrative cock.

Rambunctious ugh's came from the both of you, especially from your boy who was in the midst of coming. Your sensitive cunt was jolting as Stephen went on in propelling himself, his face of bliss bringing you ecstacy as it was hot for a beautiful face to be debauched like that. You've forgotten your family who was in search for you when he wholly pulled out just in time for him to spill his warm seed over your torso, his load shooting out in spurts as he breathed heavily above you.

You've both shared silence after a moment of paradise. As a habit you've held Stephen accountable, he'd delicately held onto your jaw with his calloused fingers, pinching them together to set forth over opening your mouth. It was an understanding and idea that you told him about after an act of pleasure. He was against the idea at first before you've basically convinced him that there would be no moment as if you were being degraded. But, he somehow has become used to it after quite some time.

Besides, it was one of your wishes. His miss surely needed to have it when she wants it.

Gradually opening your lips, Stephen has lined his mouth on you. Drawing down a line of spit and aiming to shoot it inside; thoroughly not bothered about the fact of it already as he spat inside your mouth, making you grin as he gathered his spilled cum on your torso with a finger, slipping them inside your vermillion, his eyes in a daze as he concentrated over the mouth that has sucked on his cream-filled fingers---swallowing the mixture of his saliva and release like it was food for your tainted soul.

He certainly didn't expect you to be ribald and deceptive from such a religious family---But, considering your sister and her liberated moments, maybe it was probably in the blood.

"Was it how you liked it today?" he simply acknowledged, tone curious over the fact of being caught by your family was thrilling you which is why you've dragged him along the meadow while he was working, asking him for a quick frigging in a deserted, furtive space.

Stephen helped you wear your dress after snapping his breeches back, keeping himself decent. He still wore his white, dirt-filled tank top. Slipping over his suspenders on his shoulders, the latter remained sitting on the grass as you stood up. The expression on his face mixed with a look of a puppy who was blushing under the moon light, his hair utmost unkempt and clothes looking rumpled as if he had a wild night.

"It was everything, Stephen." you softly muttered, flattening the stresses of your dress with the back of your hand, erasing any proof or evidence that you had a nooky with your family's beautiful helper. A sigh left your lips as the ache of thirst was probing your spine, yearning for more than once today.

"---But, can you do me one more favor?"

"Anything, Miss Y/N."

Stephen waited and watched for your response, seeing you ogling at his beauty as he sat silently, catching sight of those suggestive flicker of your eyes under the night.

You've knelt before him, having your height differences obvious from how you tried being eye to eye as he was still taller than you. He'd simply studied your face, changing into an expression that he wouldn't get to reject---not that he ever does because he had no other choice but to follow what you wanted because you were still his patron.

"Can you visit my chambers after dinner?"

He was quick to become uncertain over the service being asked. His thoughts hastily going to what happened in the middle of fornication a while ago; the risk of being exposed by your family for what you both decided to tumble through the afternoon, "But, Miss---"

His protests were cut short when you've distracted him with a delicate kiss to the lips, using it to your advantage as it left seeing him swallowing his apprehension down in the pit of his stomach. Kissing you back with a soft peck that got you sighing when he pulled away to wait for your answer, his complains never being risked to be told. Currently disoriented from the kiss you've given him out of the blue and from the feeling of being confused over what he should feel for letting you have him explicitly.

"My family won't be awake in the middle of the night,"

"Would...you wish to be ravished again?" he understood what you wanted. Another part of his services that he only gives you because you were artful enough to manipulate him into thinking that the idea was fine---that giving you his body and soul was fine.

Stephen had his utmost respect for everyone in your family because he was thankful for them to be employed in the household. Which is why he was even helping you in this part of favor that he surely could have no say about.

"Yes. Can I have you for the night?---I need you tonight,"

He gave a small smile, his fingers reaching for a couple of bluebells from behind. Completely helpless to be under your demands, "If you are in need of it, then I suppose it is fine. Will it help you sleep at night?" the latter slipped the flower behind your ear, his beam so precious with a soul valuable enough to be exploited or influenced by your manipulative ploys.

"Yes---Yes, it does. It'll keep me in deep slumber rather than sleeping like I never have slept at all,"

"---Then you can have me again if you want to---all night if you wish so,"

You've let him tuck the flower, appreciating how handsome and charming he sweetly smiled when you've taken his fingers and kissed every pad of it.

"Thank you, Stephen. You're amazing,"

"Anything for you, Miss."

There will be no place for Cassandra or any other women in his mind. You were determined to swarm his thoughts with only you---where he would worship no other woman nor let him have the desire to feel pleasure over others. From the moment he came into your lives, you've already marked him as your person when you were younger; having this toxic affection for him from the moment you've seen his sweet, seraph face. His personality and characteristics being adding more to your fixation when he was so kind to be gullible---fastening him in a physical-venereal connection that would aid to your benefit.

Stephen Colley was only yours and a puppy---your puppy that you would gladly take care of forever even if it means to be the bad guy in the house.

So, what’s cooking? LMAO. Leave feedbacks to give me power to write the second part. HA!

General taglist for Henry and his characters: @agniavateira​, @iloveyouyen​, @rahdaleigh​, @silverkitten547​, @henrythickcavill​, @kaatelyyynn​

[marion-the-storyteller]

I posted 681 times in 2021

17 posts created (2%)

664 posts reblogged (98%)

For every post I created, I reblogged 39.1 posts.

I added 55 tags in 2021

#beelzebub x reader - 7 posts

#lucifer x reader - 6 posts

#mammon x reader - 6 posts

#belphegor x reader - 6 posts

#asmodeus x reader - 6 posts

#satan x reader - 6 posts

#leviathan x reader - 6 posts

#obey me barbatos x reader - 4 posts

#obey me x reader - 4 posts

#obey me solomon x reader - 4 posts

Longest Tag: 52 characters

#i just wanna smack an asshole up the head that's all

My Top Posts in 2021

#5

I'm making a story

Hi everyone! I just wanted to tell everyone who are following me or just passing by that i'm making a fanfiction story that is a crossover between Obey me and Miss Peregrine's Home For Peculiar Children. The story follows my MC named Danai and her younger sister Ophelia(Elia for short) and we get to follow them through their time living in The Devildom and how both of them are coping with living with seven demons after having been homeless for 5 years. I hope that it will turn out good and that you guys enjoy it.

24 notes • Posted 2021-03-24 18:27:08 GMT

#4

Imagine if...

Whenever Satan gets annoyed, pissed or angry, he starts speaking with an scottish accent. Like it's so thicc that not even God himself can fucking understand him! The few times that will let the scottish accent slip up is when isn't feeling these previously mentioned emotions is when he wanna outsass Lucifer, flirt with the MC or freaking out over cats and happily ranting to anyone who is willing to listen about the new book that he has just read.

61 notes • Posted 2021-03-25 00:07:01 GMT

#3

Imagine if...

(Warning: possible grammatical error, typos, mental health issues, spoilers and angst. Please if you are not comfortable with this, please jump ahead and skip it. You can go and read other people's stories if you feel more comfortable. I deeply apologize if may have triggered anyone, it was not my intention)

Whenever Lilith's birthday or the anniversary of her death comes around the corner, all of the brothers would stay at home(Dia already knows what's going on, so he gives all of them 2 days off out of respect) and probably do something with each other or to themselves that is the polar opposite to what their sin actually represent(like the seven virtues, type of thing), like Lucifer would finally let himself break down from all of the pressure of having to keep his brothers safe and having to work himself to the bone from the paperwork, and just let himself feel the humility and allow the fear that he felt through the years when he fought during the War. Mammon would have probably bought like a crystal that was probably Lilith's favor or was her birthstone, and maybe would have bought something for all of his brothers something that reminded him of all of them. Leviathan would probably be sitting in his room where he would just sit and reminisce about the memories that he had with his brothers and sister and just silently appreciate the fact that he got to spend time with his brothers and with Lilith. Even tho he has never met his sister before, Satan would have also been sitting in his room, laying on his bed and just feel a strange form of emptiness that is surprisingly soothing and a painful sorrow and mourn the loss of the older sister he had the misfortune of never meeting, but he's also allowing himself to be a bit kinder and merciful towards himself by reminding himself that he did essentially meet Lilith through all of his brothers. Asmodeus would have probably given his brothers a self-care treatment. However, he would also let himself take off the make-up and allow himself to look at the beauty in the people and his surroundings around him, just appreciating the flaws that he has, but most of all; appreciating the flaws and complexities of his surrounding and the people in his life as well. Beelzebub's appetite would have started diminished a lot to the point that he wouldn't eat a lot, and he would have mostly been busying himself with making the others favorite foods, but a part of Beel is tempted to snack on the food, but that part of him is suppressed by his desire to make his brothers' favorite foods. After he's done with making the others' food, he then begins making sister's favorites, as a way to honor Lilith. Belphegor would have focused really hard on trying to stay awake for the 48 hours when the anniversary of Lilith's death or her birthday is near, and he would do absolutely anything to keep himself awake: he would drink energy drinks and very strong coffee and eat sugary foods to stay hyper and wide awake(they kinda work, but it just makes him feel more stressed out and his sleep deprivation is making the memories become so painful he actually starts having flashback of seeing her die, and him and his brothers falling). Anything that has to do with his beloved sister are always very painful for him, and the reason why he stays up for 48 hours aren't just to honor her but also keep the nightmares at bay. However, the first 20 hours have gone by Lucifer, Beel and the others are there with him and forces him to go to sleep, but they all fall asleep with him, all cuddled up to each other in the living room on the (assumingly) carpeted floor that has been covered up with pillows and blankets.

** I'm so sorry for making this Imagine/headcannon super depressing, but I hope that all of you enjoy. If you guys have any forms of ideas about something very similar to what the brothers would have done then we can talk about in PMs or in the comment sections, I find it really interesting listening to what people have to say and maybe you guys can help me improve my writing a little bit, cuz it's been a while since I have written basically any form of stories now and feel really rusty. Blessed be**

86 notes • Posted 2021-03-18 14:19:45 GMT

#2

Imagine if...

Mammon had developed a New York accent after having spent a few years in during The Great Depression, then gone back there again around our time, were spent hanging out with very famous mobsters(such as Al Capone), and checking around the place. He would be the one who would be stirring up the chaos between the gangs that where well famous in New York. He still visit the place, though

But when he came back to the Devildom, he couldn't drop the accent completely, so whenever he's talking with his brothers, Luke, Simeon, Solomon, Barbs, Dia or Mc about certain places when he gets the chance to take them there, that's when the New Yorker within him comes out.

May or may not have accidentally told an angry Lucifer "To go back LA, Giuliani!" which might have left him traumatized, and left his brothers so fucking confused but also in tears from laughing so much.

Has definitely not wanted to get a dog pretty damn early in the morning, but also thought that it wouldn't have been fair on the dog. Not at all,

157 notes • Posted 2021-03-15 17:19:04 GMT

#1

Imagine if...

Lucifer meets a very young child mc(4-5 y/o) who was having a hard time saying peacock(Peacocks are his symbolic animal) and they saw him in his demon form(specifically his clothes) for the first time, and Mc sees him and they would excitedly exclaim "Pretty butt chicken!"

The image of seeing the look of absolute utter confusion and defeat on Lucifer's face as his younger brothers as well as Dia, Barbs, the angels and Solomon are on the floor, wheezing and crying is absolutely sending me

348 notes • Posted 2021-03-15 13:51:56 GMT

Get your Tumblr 2021 Year in Review →

Huh... I didn't honestly expect that

[thewritershelpers]

Improving Your Writing when English Isn’t Your First Language (mega-ask)

As you can see above, we've gotten more than one question about writing, improving your writing, and even publishing in English when it's not your native language. First off: that's awesome. To anyone writing or even consuming in a language that's not your first, kudos to you.

You can google any variation of this question and get different articles with a ton of the same advice, and some with conflicting advice. Not only have I compiled the most commonly repeated information, but I've also reached out to people on our Discord server and others for their personal experiences.

I'll start off by listing concise versions of the advice and then expound on them further on in the article. Remember that we are not experts on your writing and that everyone learns in different ways and at different paces. These are in no particular order.

-be patient

-practice

-get feedback from native sources

-don't undermine yourself to your audience

-Grammarly

-research

-don't get discouraged

Be patient

That's first because, well, duh. Patience is so important for both yourself and your writing. Writing is hard enough of a passion without the added difficulty of doing it in a language that doesn't come naturally. In the world of literature, writing/publishing in your non-native language isn't just a matter of translating words. It requires translating of ideas, concepts, and even cultural norms, which is why just slapping it into Google translate won't work.

Part of the reason for the advice of having patience, too, is that writing in your native language needs to take time. It doesn't really matter how fast you can whip out 20 pages of a first draft--it'll still be a simple first draft. Writing is a craft that requires not just love and passion but time. So what if you need a little bit of extra time--or a lot of extra time--because you're accomplishing a feat most don't even think about attempting?

Next is to practice.

That goes hand in hand with what I said about being patient. Again, writing in and of itself is all about practice and doing it daily (not that I'm an expert on getting that done, but you know). But when it comes to practice another language, there are different ways you can do that. You can reach out to native speakers (for English, there are going to be so many people willing to help, even just in our community! you just need to ask) and practice having conversations or ask them to look over your work. Practice by turning on your favorite movie or TV show in English with subtitles in your native language. Watch videos on YouTube, find a Spotify playlist/podcast, in your target language. There's also plenty of people who have done what you're trying to do who have shared their experiences and what helped them on those same platforms.

Get feedback from native speakers

This is a bit of an expansion on what I mentioned in the previous paragraph. In my experience, and from what others have shared, writing in a non-native language can be pretty clinical. Writing with figurative language or in metaphors won't be as easy or come as naturally as it does in your own language. Things like idioms and even pop cultures reference aren't always going to translate even if you have the exact words. That's where native speakers come into play. If they're willing to look over your work, whether as a friend or in an editorial position, they can give you advice about whether the wording in one spot sounds clunky or if a phrase doesn't make sense or if there're synonyms for what you already used to help convey your message even stronger.

Don't undermine yourself

This is something that I personally am saying. It's not mentioned on any of the linked sites, and no one I talked to said it. But as someone who is a native English speaker (and even has a degree in it) I think this is super important. This point goes towards native English speakers/writers, too. Don't undersell yourself and undermine your work to the audience before they have even picked it up. Disclaimers are different, and it all comes down to the words you use and how you use them. Let your readers know, whether it's people on AO3 or a literary agent, that English isn't your first language. Let them know concisely that they may find some basic errors--but stop there. Don't grovel. You have nothing to apologize for, especially once you've given that warning (those is it really a warning? what's so dangerous or scary about a few mistakes?). You're writing is not going to be any less of an accomplishment for a few grammatical errors, or mistranslated phrases, or even typos. I've seen so many mistakes in published works that it's kind of ridiculous. But if you put something out there for someone to read and in the same breath say "I don't know that this is worth reading" I'm going to need extra convincing to pick it up. *kicks soapbox away*

Grammarly

*NOT sponsored*

Grammarly is a wonderful tool that you can use, for FREE. It not only (with the free version) helps correct spelling and grammar, but can also help point out the tone you're writing with. For example, right now, Grammarly is telling me that this writing sounds mostly informative--which it's meant to be--and a little appreciative and friendly. When sending emails I've had it tell me that it sounds formal (which I was going for), and I've also had it not say anything because the text was a different kind of writing (like when I'm proof-reading something being posting it on AO3...). I honestly don't know what else it helps with once you've paid because I've been happily using the free version for about 3 years now.

Research

Don't be afraid to pick up a book, or head to the library, or pull up Google. Research is paramount to writing anyway, let alone once you're doing it in another language. Your research options are limitless and can include your mutuals on social media as well as those dictionaries that translate from one language into another. Research can also include (in my humble opinion) binge-watching/reading your favorite things...in English. In four years of university, one of the most frequently said things was to improve your writing 1) write every day and 2) read every day. You're never going to learn from worrying or overthinking, and you're also never going to learn from just doing DuoLingo (that's more conversational than literary anyway).

Something a member of Discord specifically said in relation to research was to look at morphology, at the roots of words (and root words). Morphology is, in linguistics, looking at how words are formed. For example, let's look at "biology". There are parts to this word that each has a different meaning, that formed together created a new/elevated meaning. "ology" means the study of something, and bio means life. So biology is, simply, the study of life. Once you've got those basics of things like "ology" under your belt it'll become easier to not just translate words but the concepts (if this works with your learning style).

Last but not least, don't get discouraged.

Writers of all kinds get discouraged when writing in their native language. Even those of us who speak English as our first language make mistakes worth discouragement (you will never know how many typos were corrected by Grammarly as I wrote this all out the first time). English is not an easy language. It's not the hardest, but it's far from easy (learning another language isn't easy regardless of what languages are involved). This is a post from someone who is a non-native English speaker but you would never know unless they told us.

While researching for this, I found some articles/blog posts that said mostly the same thing, and are where I got some of the information

This one is from a native English speaker giving advice

This one is for writing for non-native English readers, but still has good advice

And finally this one is a blog post (I think) from someone who is a non-native English speaker!

In specific response to some of the asks:

English, like any other language, changes. It's a very dynamic language, actually, and from region to region, there will not only be different accents but different frames of reference. 1950 isn't so far back in time for the English to be drastically different from what is spoken today, but I'm in the USA and you're asking about Oxford. English in England has very different nuances, even more so than you would get between California and Texas and New York. This is a link to the Oxford English Dictionary list of words that became more common in the 50s. However, this is a generalized list, not specific to any English-speaking country let alone region or city. If you're wanting to look at how to convey the accent of people from/in Oxford, there are videos on YouTube of people speaking in different accents so that you can have an idea, a comparison, at least in your own mind. With the 50s it's going to be more just thinking really of what words and lifestyles and things weren't around yet; cell phones didn't exist yet. Here's another link to some stock images of Oxford in the 50s. Remember, this time was very close to WWII so there'll be lingering effects of that, especially in England.

About fight scenes and curses, there's a ton of resources on that. If you just search "fight" on our page, you'll get a ton of posts answering that question. Also, here's a link to a superb and excellent source on writing fight scenes. When it comes to curses...just watch Rage Quit on YouTube, or spend a while on TikTok. If you want to dive right in just Google "English curses" and there'll be YouTube videos, entries on Urban Dictionary, you name it.

When it comes to publishing, once you've gotten your manuscript is a perfect time to have a native-speaking friend look it over. Whether editing is their thing or not, they'll be able to help with the things that are really obvious. I don't have any experience publishing in a different language, though, so there might be other resources along the different stages to help you. Some general publishing advice I've gotten: when wanting to publish fiction, literature, start small. Start with short stories in literary journals, online and in print. You really can't make much headway with large publishing houses without a literary agent and it'll be easier to attract one if you have evidence that you can write, and write well enough people want to read it. When it comes to poetry, just start submitting. Get familiar with the process, and educate yourself on things like simultaneous submissions and a good rejection. Publishing is an ever-changing game that isn't cut and dry in any language or country. We can't tell you what's best, but my advice is to go with your gut and try your best. Don't be afraid to try again, too.

Everyone overthinks their writing. Or at least, everyone I know who writes does. Honestly, in my opinion, if you're not overthinking at least a little bit, you're not worried enough. You will never be able to fully know whether you've explained or described enough. A good chunk of the experience is up to the readers, so you have to leave them some wiggle room for imagination. But that doesn't mean you have to cheapen your story or short-change your characters. You mention specifically that you're POC, which I'm gonna guess also means that your characters will be POC. It's never too much to specify the race/ethnicity of your characters, even in a fantasy work. How you go about writing those descriptions might need to change but it's kind of like chocolate chips, in my mind: you decide those things with your soul.

So, there you have it. A ridiculously long way to say: you're awesome, you do you, practice, love yourself and your writing, and don't be afraid to put yourself out there (in any way).

(images read:

Anonymous said: Im writing a book based in Oxford in 1950s. how was the language different from now. I am not from an English speaking country at all. Never been outside my country either. And Im going to write a book based in England in English

Anonymous said: Hi there, I’m a writer for almost 3 years now but since English isn’t my first language I get discouraged easily if things I write come off strange to myself. Do you maybe have any advice for me, on how to motivate myself and not comparing myself with native English speakers? Thank you in advance!

Anonymous said: Hello! I starting to work on this shortfic but it’s been really hard. It’s like I’m trying to building a house alone and with my bare hands. Even though I’m already used to write in mother tongue. Any advice for non-english speaker trying to write their first story in English?

Yaelburstine said: Hi. Do you have any tips about how to write a good fight scene and curses that people speak English get cus’ it’s not my first language

gyger said: I am not a native english speaker, but most of the books I read are in english and I generally prefer writing in english as well. However, I am worried about making mistakes that I can’t recognize myself. I have no idea how good my english is to a native english speaker, plus some things are easier to write in my native tongue (such as dialogue). I’m also worried about publishing, since that definitely would be easier in my country than abroad. How do I decide what language to choose?

Anonymous said: As a POC writer and English as their second language, I overthink all the writing I do. I feel like I don’t describe my ideas thoroughly or my character descriptions are vague or not good enough. I’m currently working on a YA novel but I plan on writing a YA fantasy novel but I feel like my lack of vocabulary and grammar structure makes me give up on finishing my book. Is this normal for native English speaking authors or is this considered a language barrier thing? Thanks! Love your blog!

Thank you for your questions, and for your patience as we do our best to answer them.

-S

[chick-from-nz]

Paper, Scissors, Rank (Ch: 1)

CHARACTER/PAIRING: Modern!Carrillo x Army!OC (eventually) 

WARNINGS: maybe some swearing, military slang, spelling and grammatical errors. Could be very OOC/AU for some. 

AUTHORS NOTE:  this is kind of just an establishing chapter to get the idea out there, Carrillo is barely in this chapter. Characters are younger than they should be for their ranks. Also so far there is no first names, that’ll come later

WORD COUNT: 1.6K

CHAPTER: 1 OF ?

TAG LIST: @girlpornparadise @1zashreena1 @xxidontwikeitxx @nicke0115

The sun was beginning to disappear behind the curve of the earth,  painting the sky with a unique mixture of orange and dark violet. The distant sound of rumbling thunder is like persistent background music for the evening , powerful and uncanny.  The impending storm instills a sense of relief within the thirty or so soon to be officers standing stock still in a neat formation.

The cadets have been standing at attention for what seems like an eternity, the warmth of the day slowly fading away into the brisk cold that is night. This day was the first of many long days to look forward to in the treacherous week ahead, a week full of drills, missions and courses set to make or break the cadets and be the decider on whether or not they will become the soldiers they so desperately wish to be.  

The cadets had been informed of an up and coming role in a new task force that would be the highlight of one lucky future second lieutenant's career. A foreign Colonel was set to choose the most fitting recruit for his force to fight an enemy unknown to these youngsters. Only a cadet who scored within the top three of the company would be eligible for this role or at least that's what the platoon imagined.

The tension within the platoon was high, higher still with this opportunity hanging over their heads. Each cadet was now fighting tooth and nail to be at the top of the pack. Among this group was a young female recruit with everything against her. It seemed like all the instructors had a vendetta against her because of her last name, yet she was sitting top of the pack. The female cadets gossiped about her and the male cadets paid her no notice, she was hoping whoever this Colonel was that he at least would see her worth for what it was and not because of the last name attached to it.

When the thunder cracked and the rain came pouring down only then did the morale of the group start to drop, holding a pack above your head for what felt like 3 hours, and probably was, was being to take its toll on certain cadets. Almost half the platoon had forfeited points by dropping their packs, another five cadets were beginning to sway from the weight and would no doubt drop their packs within the hour. The test of strength and endurance was a tough one at that. Do you drop your pack and lose some points but not be exhausted for whatever discipline was thrown at you next, or did you power through and hope that this was the last task of the night.  

As another hour or so passes there are all but 3 recruits standing out of the rain. Cadets Greyson, Calliope and Micheals were the remaining cadets out in the downpour with their packs hoisted above their heads. It was a power struggle now, Greyson and Micheals were but half a point apart for top cadet while Cadet Calliope was only a point behind them, these three were now not only competing for top cadet but for a chance to make it onto the Colonels “kill squad” as it had been nicknamed by the Cadets.

Calliope was the first to drop his pack, followed closely by Michaels. Cadet Greyson, like usual, was the last cadet standing, feeling incredibly proud of herself as she spun around to face her fellow cadets only to be greeted with distasteful looks and the occasional snarl on her opponents faces. At this point she thought she should be used to it, but each time it stung more and more. Was no one going to acknowledge the fact that she had proven herself yet again?

Greyson was given no time to dwell on her thoughts as the cadets were called to make formation and report to the Lieutenant in charge. Lieutenant O’Connor. The man was the only superior who Greyson felt appreciated by, he always took time to pull her aside and give her tips to improve on if she needed them, or congratulate her on her win. Since she dominated the event yet again Greyson was tasked with determining the route best fit to take to get back to their tents. With the help of Cadets Calliope and Michaels, whom she had chosen as her second and third in command respectively. The platoon made their way back to the campsite without a fuss.

Major Benn was perched on the hood of his jeep when the platoon reached camp. Ever one to be formal Cadet Greyson brought her squad to attention and popped off a salute to the aforementioned man. The major was quick to return the salute, a small smile gracing his lips.

“Cadet Greyson, congratulations on another win, dismiss your squad and everyone gather round the Jeep”

“Yes Sir!”

Greyson did as she was told, silently thanking the Major for the kind words, and gathered the squad around the jeep. She was hoping that they were going to be jagged in for the night, but just their luck the Major would have them up running parade drills for the next three hours.

“As you well know one of you will be chosen and given the opportunity of a lifetime, working alongside one of Colombia's most renowned Officers in the intelligence field. In two days he’ll be here to oversee the evolutions for the day and set challenges for you to complete. He will select who he thinks is right for his team, scores will not play a part in his decision. I suggest you all take this on board and do you best to impress. This opportunity will not come around again so I expect top performance from each and every one of you. You are dismissed”

At the order each cadet gave a salute and went off to their own tents, thankful for the opportunity for rest and each thinking of how they could impress the Officer and gain a place on his team.

As the night drew to a close and everyone was drifting off to sleep Cadet Greyson decided to wander away from the cadets campsite and unintentionally towards the instructors camp. It was only when the darkness gave way to the burning lights surrounding their camp did she slow her pace and hide in the shadows. She knew if she was caught here she’d be doing in a world of hell, but for some reason she just couldn't turn around and walk back to her tent.

She could hear voices coming from the camp, she could pinpoint all but one of them, and it sounded like they were deep in a very serious discussion. Greyson gathered  her courage and began to creep closer to the voices, remembering her training she kept low to the ground and used the shadows to her advantage. She came to an abrupt halt when she heard her name being passed around between the men. Why would they be talking about me? Please don’t be ruining my name she thought to herself. She took a few steps more and placed herself behind one of the tents. The fourth voice was louder now, accented and strong. The kind of voice that makes you want to run towards it and away from it at the same time. Greyson wondered if it was possible to be attracted to a voice, and promptly decided it was, that voice, whoever it belonged to, was the most attractive voice she’d ever heard.

Deciding she’d pushed her luck too far, the cadet soundlessly turned and made her way back to the path at the edge of the camp, but instead of continuing towards her camp like any sane cadet would she turned to see if she could catch a glimpse of whoever the authoritative voice belonged to. What she managed to see nearly made her fall over breathless. He was gorgeous, even from a distance. A strong chiseled jaw that gave way to wide shoulders and what seemed to be the strongest most defined arms she’d ever seen.  God if his arms look like that i can only imagine what he must look like under that uniform Greyson thought. He was standing in a stance that screamed power and experience, shoulders back, head tilted back in a way that made it look like he was looking down his nose at someone, except, he was staring right in her direction.

“Fuck!” Greyson whispered to herself, if he had spotted her she might have just compromised her points she earnt today and might have just dropped herself into the biggest punishment she’d ever receive. As to not draw attention to herself she slowly crept backwards further into the shadows, double checked that the coast was clear and bolted in the direction of the cadets camp. She reached the camp in record time, the fear of being caught fueling her the whole way back to the camp.

Greyson wasted no time kicking off her boots and climbing into her sleeping bag, if she’d been caught the platoon would get a rude awakening in a matter of minutes, if not she had maybe three hours to get as much sleep as she could. As the minutes ticked by and the night stayed silent it seemed as though she would get to sleep tonight, she could only hope that tomorrow would bring slightly better outcomes than the day before. As she drifted off she smiled to herself, the image of those wide shoulders and strong arms had her imagining some not so professional situations where she could use them to her advantage.

[fanfictionandmore]

My Editor | Daniel Brühl One-Shot

Today is the day I'm officially meeting my editor. He has been editing my manuscripts for a while now, and I thought it was finally time that Daniel Brühl and I should meet. In all honesty I was feeling nervous as hell. Especially since he's the one who gets to read my books before they're even published. His eyes grace the pages before anyone else gets to read my work.

My cab stopped outside of Daniel's apartment, causing a rush of anxiety and exciment to flow through my body. I paid my cab driver before getting out of the yellow colored car. I took a deep breath before I walked up the few steps that lead into the apartment building. A call box was on the brick wall near the front doors. I looked through the list and eventually found my editor's name.

I pressed the buzzer and waited for him to pick up. "Hello?" He asked in his pleasant sounding voice. "Hi, it's me... y/n." I said into the little speaker. "Oh my god! I can't believe you're actually here!! Come on up so we can properly meet each other." He said and the door made a buzzing sound. I quickly opened the door so I didn't have to ask Daniel to open it up again.

When I entered the apartment building the smell of cigarettes hit me. It wasn't too powerful, but enough to make me wrinkle my nose. The place looked like any other apartment building to be honest. It had an eigties feel to it due to the wallpaper and flooring though. As I walked down the long hallway I heard a tv playing one of the apartments.

I also noticed the sound of a baby crying, but it was faint and I figured it had to be coming from one of the apartments upstairs. I pressed my thoughts to the back of my mind once I found Daniel's apartment. Butterflies fluttered in my stomach as I managed to build up some courage and knock on his door. When he opened the door I was almost breathless.

He was so much more handsome than I imagined, and it made the butterflies worse. His eyes are what really took my breath away. They were so big and beautifully brown. I could see myself getting lost in them. He had a beard and his hair was combed into a side part as well. "Hey, come in. I made some tea if you'd like a cup." He said sweetly. Since the first day we talked I found his German accent adorable.

"Yes, please." I replied with a small shy smile, and he gave me one in return. As I looked around at my surroundings I couldn't help but feel comfortable. He had a bookshelf filled to the brim with books. As I looked at the spines of the books he owned my heart warmed when I saw my own works on those shelves. "You bought my books?" I asked curiously.

"Of course I bought your books. You're one of my favorite writers." He replied with a nervous laugh. "That's so sweet, but I could have given you free copies. I mean... you are the one who has to sift through hundreds of pages to fix my grammatical errors." I said feeling guilty that he was using his money to buy my books. "Yeah, but I love my job. Especially when it comes to editing your books." He said sweetly.

The sparkle in his beautiful brown eyes made me blush a little. The two of us sat on the couch and drank tea as we got to know each other better. We mostly discusses books, movies, and art. It felt like I knew him all my life and I wondered if he felt the same way.

Weeks passed, making Daniel and I become closer and closer. To be honest... I never wanted to leave. I knew I'd miss him like crazy; I'd especially miss his hugs because... well... he just feels like home. When I'm in his strong arms I feel so safe, warm, and loved. I was also scared because I knew I was falling in love with him. 

+++++

A/N: Thanks for reading!! I'll probably be making a part 2 very soon. 

Thanks @velvetwonderbucky for inspiring this idea. 

[jcmorrigan]

Grammatical conventions for Skeksis

Because I’m a copy-editor nerd and I wanted to make a reference post. This is probably stuff you all knew and I’m just fansplaining but if it’s helpful for somebody, then it works

Also, this was all picked up from observation - listening to dialogue and watching AoR with subtitles on. Apologies if there are errors.

First of all, “Skeksis” is both singular and plural. You can say “A Skeksis showed up at Ha’rar yesterday” or “Both Skeksis agreed Ha’rar was horrible.” As to when it is pronounced “Skek-siss” and when it is “Skek-sees,” I have not yet picked up a discernible pattern (I had thought the former was singular and the latter plural until I heard exceptions), and I think it ultimately depends on the accent of who’s speaking.

The first “S” of “Skeksis” is capitalized.

However, Skeksis’ names consist of two parts: the prefix “SKEK-” and a suffix that differentiates each name: “-SIL,” “-SO,” “-TEK.” When writing a Skeksis’ name midsentence, the first letter of their name is not capitalized, but the first letter of their differentiating suffix is. Example: “I saw skekSil sneaking around yesterday, and I’m certain he’s up to no good.” 

HOWEVER: if the Skeksis’ name is at the beginning of a sentence, then the first letter of the name is capitalized as well in order to conform to sentence structure. Example: “SkekTek revolutionized warfare with his innovations.”

A similar pattern emerges for the Mystics. Their proper name is the urRu, which, weirdly enough, follows more of the pattern of Skeksis’ given names than their race name. The given names mirror Skeksis’ given names, with an “UR-” prefix and a suffix that differentiates - “-SOL,” “-GOH,” “-VA.” Example: “That’s urVa the Archer, and he needs our help!”

I admit I didn’t pay as much attention to sentence starters, but I believe the same capitalization rule would hold at the beginning of a sentence: “UrGoh believes puppetry is the most sacred of art forms, though Rian would disagree.”

Again, I hope this was helpful, and I apologize if any is incorrect! Also, some of these patterns and conventions aren’t typical of American English (I can’t speak with expertise on other languages that aren’t my mother tongue and don’t wish to make incorrect assumptions), so if you see someone new to (or old in) the fandom make a mistake in this field, please be kind, because mistakes are easy to make here!

[moonlit-seren]

Reasons To Stay || Jung Yunho x Gender Neutral Reader

Summary: Y/n’s been working for one of the biggest news companies in Seoul for five years now, and like many others she/he wants a change in scenery. However, there are a handful of things keeping her/him from leaving, and one of them came in the form of an accidental blind date.

Genre: Fluff

Warnings: SOFTNESS OVERDOSE- None

Word Count: 7.7k

A/N: I’m posting my very first Ateez imagine on my two week anniversary as a new Atiny. I’m so psyched to be a part of this growing family and I’d like to thank @every1studio for welcoming me into it UwU. The main character’s best friend was inspired by this ray of sunshine right here @rubyyong, I wanted to show her a little appreciation for being one of the many writers who influence me to become better and let her know that I’m here supporting her from afar. So yeah, happy reading. <3

꧁Masterlist꧂

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~

I sighed, glancing through one of the floor length windows adjacent to my desk. It was a particularly nice day outside, the fluffy clouds casting dark shadows on the world while the sun lit it up with a brilliant glow. The contrast was nearly eerie, like yin and yang, both the sun and the clouds out of our reach yet seemingly tangible if you lay on your back and reach your hands for the sky.

The streets below seemed busier than usual, the already terrible traffic appeared far more congested than normal. Due to the lack of movement in the streets, the multitude of car horns blared in a messy diarray with one another, the loud sounds varying in pitch but all sharing one thing in common. They wouldn’t stop.

Looking down at the vehicles made me glad that the office’s walls were soundproof, otherwise everyone in the building would have gone deaf by now. However, there were a few unlucky people on the street who had to endure cacophony of car horns as their speed quickened while walking to whatever destination they had in mind.

“It’s terrible isn’t it?” asked one of my coworkers, the newly promoted intern seeming to appear out of the blue. Her name was Chloe and she was one of the few reasons why I hadn’t quit my job yet in this suffocating office building. We worked for one of Seoul’s biggest news companies, her in the creative department and me in the editorial department.

Our departments were located on different floors, so it surprised me to see her standing here, one hand fiddling with her ID badge and the other resting on her hip. Her eyes were trained on the streets below like mine were, before fluttering up to meet mine while waiting for my response.

I simply nodded as my eyebrows furrowed, hoping that the traffic wouldn’t be this bad when I had to drive back to my apartment in the evening. It already took a solid half an hour to drive back home without any traffic jams, and just imagining trying to get back while moving at a snail’s pace… Well, I honestly didn’t even want to imagine that.

“I heard someone in the elevator say that the city closed a few roads to repair them, so that must be the reason why there’s so much traffic,” I stated, eyebrows arched and lips pursed in an expression that read ‘I don’t really know’ while I shrugged to emphasize my lack of knowledge over the situation.

Chloe nodded as if to show that she’d agreed with my thoughts, her sleek high ponytail bouncing with the movement. She was wearing a knee length, peach colored sundress today, with soft magenta roses littering the garment like powdered sugar on freshly baked cupcakes. Her excellent sense of fashion always brought a bright burst of liveliness into the office, regardless of whether she was in a black, leather jacket or a pastel blue sweater top.

The comparison I always made, much to her distaste, was a small, yet thriving plant amidst a world of manmade objects and other inanimate items. I thought it was fitting. She just found it cliché.

It was a little off how we ended up as friends. Originally I thought that it’d be best to keep my distance, as bubbly people tend to get annoying after a while. Although, when I was asked to show her around the building, I realized that her perkiness was a breath of fresh air compared to the droopy gazes of the sleepy workers mulling about on my floor.

She was a ray of sunshine that lit my dim world and inspired me to let loose and remember what it’s like seeing things from an optimistic point of view. To put it simply, she helped me learn to live again, something I had forgotten when I reached adulthood.

Suddenly seeming to remember why she was up here, Chloe let out a small “Oh, right” while snapping her fingers before turning her body away from the window to face me instead. “I just wanted to inform you that it was lunch break, since you tend to forget while you’re immersed in the fancy world of grammar and punctuation.”

Her wild hand gestures accompanying the last three words of her sentence had me rolling my eyes. It was a known fact that no one on my floor, except for me, actually enjoyed correcting the numerous grammatical errors of others.

I couldn’t blame them though, since most of us were just here to make a living. Which brings me to my second reason for tolerating my job. I used to love the idea of doing something in this field for a living, words always had a way to entrance me in them which explains why I practically lived in libraries growing up.

I practically jumped at the opportunity when I was offered this job, but after five years of being stuck here, the magic of it all faded away into oblivion. Originally I was only working part time, since I was in my second year of college, but when I graduated I was given a full time job.

Of course, when I entered the company, I started at the very bottom of the corporate ladder. My main job was to be an errand girl like Chloe was before her promotion. I won’t even lie, it was absolutely horrible, and I know the girl in front of me would agree.

I can’t even recall how many cups of coffee just a single worker needed, as they would all fall asleep otherwise. In the first few hours of the morning, the demand for coffee was so great that I had petitioned for there to be five coffee machines rather than the two that we had.

Needless to say, I went home everyday with at least one new burn from the boiling hot liquid I had to carry around, and my hands really weren’t a pretty sight due to them. Thankfully I learned my lesson after the first week, opting to buy gloves that would help protect my hands and a bright red stop sign I attached to my tray so that people would stop running into me.

It was quite the sight, and really just a mortifying memory I have ingrained in the back of my head. Though Chloe didn’t have it as bad, shortly after I was promoted the company bought three more coffee machines as requested and hired more people so that there were more sets of hands dealing everyone their daily doses of caffeine.

Which brings me back to present day, as a 22 year old who seemed to age mentally far beyond my actual years living on this earth.

“Yeah, I didn’t notice the time. Do you want to go get a drink with me? I heard a new cafe opened up a few blocks down and so far there have only been positive reviews from the people I’ve asked about it,” I asked, kind of hoping that Chloe would agree to go, because who wouldn’t want some company?

However, I could see her response before she verbalized it in the way that she furrowed her eyebrows with a slight pout. “I can’t, there’s a new batch of interns that came in just yesterday, and for some reason none of them know how to work a coffee machine.”

I laughed at her predicament, imagining Chloe surrounded by a small group of college students too used to buying an overpriced coffee at a local cafe than to make their own brews with a machine.

“Okay, have fun,” I teased, standing up to stretch my back and roll a few cricks out of my neck. Chloe cringed at the little pops and cracks, reaching behind me to help pick up my bag that strewn across the back of my chair. It was pretty warm outside still, being in the early months of fall, which is why I didn’t have a coat with me.

I thanked her as I slipped the bag over my shoulder, before walking away with a slight wave. Since Chloe wouldn’t be going with me today, I decided to get her something at the cafe since I knew her taste in pastries and drinks quite well.

The elevator ride was pretty quick, albeit rather crowded as large groups of people were also on their way out to enjoy their break somewhere else.

The company was rather generous with its workers, allowing them a full hour long break before returning back to their 9-5 schedule. Maybe that was my third reason for staying at the company despite being sick of the mountain of words I had to go through daily.

The elevator reached the lobby floor with a small ding, the door nearly closing on me as everyone shuffled out of the metal box. I had allowed myself to get trapped near the back of the elevator as people piled in, which was why I had been the last to leave.

The front lobby was rather big, with a fancy granite front desk with gold accenting, and several marble columns spread around the floor to support the high ceiling.

To the right of the front desk was a small sitting area marked by a sprawling beige rug, dark leather couches, and a bamboo table resting in the middle. To the left of the front desk was a small water fountain with a family of koi fish lazily swimming about the bed of pennies and nickels thrown in.

I never really understood the point of throwing coins into fountains. People were basically wasting change, poisoning the fish, and drowning their elusive dreams in a supposed wishing well.

Still, I never voiced my thoughts out loud. After all, I didn’t want to crush the pure wishes of the children begging for coins from their parents in order to perform the simple act of hoping.

Not to mention that I had also fit into that crowd as a young girl, making desperate wishes to get the boy I liked to like me back. Of course, they were all left unheard, or maybe even ignored, which only served to fuel my distaste for making wishes on copper coins.

I’d much rather save my change to tip baristas, as I finally understood their struggle after having made hundreds of cups of coffee myself. It was a grueling task and I couldn’t help but sympathize with anyone who had to do what I did as an intern for a living.

Speaking of which, I made my way out of the front door of the office building, immediately cringing at the racket of noise that met my ears. Much to my bittersweet relief, the cars seemed to be moving a tad bit faster than earlier.

Albeit, the new set of cars didn’t sound any different from the last set, with their loud beeping at the mini traffic jams that hadn’t quite thinned out yet.

I reached into my purse and pulled out my earbuds, skilled fingers working quickly to untangle the messy knots the cord had fallen into. There had never been a day where I found them neatly folded like I had left them, so untangling them had become a regular part of my daily routine.

It didn’t take very long, and soon enough I had them plugged into my phone and placed in my ears. Going to my usual playlist, a slow smile spread across my face at the song that had arisen first by chance.

The noise of the car horns completely drowned out with the melody playing in my ears, and I happily mouthed along to the lyrics when the sidewalk before me cleared of any prying eyes as I walked down it.

The only people who could see me making a slight fool out of myself was the people in the cars adjacent to me, nevertheless, they all seemed far too preoccupied with their own lives to notice. Some were on their madly typing away at their phones, others messing with toys they had received with their fast food, and in the driver’s case: vigorously slamming their fists on their horns as if it would help resolve the situation.

“Snapping, snapping,” I whispered softly, eyes taking on a playful lilt as I fell into step with the beat of the song. Despite wanting to burst out dancing, I restrained myself as my mouth snapped closed with an audible click when a figure appeared several feet in front of me.

I wasn’t quite ready to let go of my dignity to the extent of having a little dance break in the middle of the sidewalk of a bustling city. I could practically see steam coming out of the nose of the young woman in front of me, so I popped out an earbud wondering what she could be fuming about.

“Stupid date left me waiting there… Screw men… If I ever get my hands on him… He’ll be dead meat…”

The rest of her words faded with the growing distance between us, having already passed by her as she was walking off in the opposite direction.

“She must’ve been stood up,” I thought, almost pitying her if not for her horrid attitude and snobby scowl. Her date might of had a reason for not showing up, who knows?

Realizing that I had reached my destination, I looked up to check the name of the cafe to be sure. The sign was done in a beautiful gradient with a faint blush pink fading into a vibrant fuchsia. Looking out front, there were bright posters taped to the windows advertising popular drinks and desserts.

Just from the prices on the posters, I could this was a higher class joint, as there was even a small seating area outside with large, turquoise blue umbrellas shielding the tables from the sun. Not to mention that the place also offered breakfast and lunch despite just being a cafe.

In spite of the high prices, I stepped through the door, taking notice of the white daisies growing in the pastel green window boxes. The golden bells above the door chimed, notifying my entrance.

Like always, I was instantly hit with the heavenly scent of freshly ground cinnamon and coffee beans that most cafes seemed to boost.

After becoming employed, I never really had to worry about spending a little extra on a higher quality drink everyday. The high paycheck was the fourth reason why I found the idea of leaving my job so difficult. Besides, It never hurt to have a little extra cash in my bank account in case of a financial emergency.

Slowly making my way to a booth, I took in the interior of the cafe. The walls of the joint were painted the same color as the window boxes, with accenting lining the corners of the spacy room matched the color of the umbrellas outside. The round tables had a translucent glass top with black metal legs, and the chairs sitting around them were made of the same black metal twisted into an intricate design.

I highly doubted the large jewels in the back of the chairs were made of real glass, though they shone the same way a real gem would in the soft lighting coming from the beautiful light fixtures dangling from the ceiling.

There was a marble front desk where the cashier was incase someone just wanted to grab a takeout coffee and/or pastry. Speaking of which, there were numerous display cases lining the marble counters filled with various treats ranging from rainbow colored macarons to cream filled mochi.

Although, there were waiters and waitresses that came to you if you get their attention, in case you have the time to sit about, which is what I choose to do. Standing in line in front of the cashier just seemed like far too much work today, so I decided to just skip the wait.

I sat down in one of the empty booths lining the wall of the cafe. They also had glass table tops, however they were rectangular and the seats were made of artificial black leather the same shade as the chairs in the center of the room.

Suddenly a tall figure burst through the front door, the bells in front of the door crashing together rather harshly unlike the gentle tingle they let out when I walked through.

The male seemed to be around my age, though it was rather hard to tell if he was older or younger considering how his youthful face was paired with a ridiculously tall stature.

The straps of his beige jacket fluttered behind him in the small gust of his abrupt entrance, nearly getting caught in the closing door. His almost puppy like features were framed was light blue hair that looked softer than the clouds I had been admiring in the morning.

I was suddenly struck with the creeping urge to run my hands through the strands, causing an immediate flush to race up my neck as I averted my gaze.

“What am I thinking?” I thought, embarrassment and guilt coursing through my veins. This was precisely why I avoided attractive men like my life depended on it, because I knew as a matter of fact that my dignity did.

The moment my eyes settled on someone who was remotely handsome, my heart raced so quickly that I felt a love struck school girl all over again. Nonetheless, I could never keep my eyes off beautiful specimen for long, hence why my gaze subconsciously traveled back to the male standing at the doorway.

His eyes had been roaming the room, his shoulders sinking dejectedly as he didn’t seem to see who or what he was looking for. However, when he continued to look around his eyes met mine, much to my horror.

His eyes lit up, his mouth forming a little ‘o’ shape, as my eyes snapped back to my lap. A string of curses flew across the forefront of my mind at getting caught staring, as I desperately hoped with all of my being that he wouldn’t walk over.

Of course the heavens ignored my plead.

The cute male slid into the seat across from mine with an apologetic smile. Which struck me as odd as I should have been the apologetic one. Yet the words that slipped out of his lips were far odder, in my opinion.

“I’m so sorry for being late, the traffic today truly was horrible and I ended up stuck in this one traffic jam for…” he started, trailing off as he lifted his wrist to check his watch for the time. “An hour.”

“Huh?” I asked, completely confused. An extremely attractive stranger suddenly appeared out of nowhere, approached me out of all the pretty girls sitting alone in this cafe, and started apologizing when we had never met each other before?

I was about as lost as the person across from me was hot. Like dang, his visuals really attracted the curious gaze of all the aforementioned ladies sitting around the room.

Suddenly something nagged at the back of my mind, the vivid image of the woman from early resurfacing from my memories.

Oh.

He must have thought that I was his blind date.

I opened my mouth to explain the situation, but before I had the chance to collect my thoughts, the guy started talking once again. He had been taking off his coat so he didn’t see the way I had been gaping while pondering how to tell him he had mistaken me for someone else.

He looked up at me, eyes widening when he realized that he never introduced himself. A spellbinding smile spreading across his soft features as he held his hand across the table for a handshake. “Right, my name is Yunho, it’s nice to meet you.”

I hesitantly took his hand, introducing myself with a shaky smile. One look into his warm eyes and I knew that I couldn’t break it to him that his real date had left like a fiery hurricane while spitting out curses like a tasteless rapper.

Yunho repeated my name slowly, as if the savor each and every syllable with a thoughtful smile. It was clear that he was about to drop a cliché pickup line from the way his eyes sparkled mischievously, however, that didn’t soften the impact as my cheeks flushed red. “What a beautiful name.”

What he did next completely caught me off guard as he started mumbling to himself with a sly smile. “I wonder what our ship name would be…”

Deciding that my heart wouldn’t be able to take anymore of his cheesiness, I waved one of the waiters over.

“Ready to order?” Asked the waiter, his ears tinting red when I directed my gaze at him. His grip tightened a little on his mini clipboard and pen, eyes averting to Yunho instead.

“How cute,” I thought, slightly flattered over his actions. Although I never really dated before, I could recognize that smitten expression anywhere. It was then that I recalled that I never actually looked at the small menu, however, that didn’t turn out to be a problem as Yunho ordered for the both of us.

“Have you been here before?” I asked, surprised because I never saw him look at the menu either before the waiter walked away. The cafe opened a few days ago, so it wasn’t entirely unbelievable that he had gone before, though I didn’t think that was the case.

“No, I just ordered the special today if that’s okay with you,” he admitted, rubbing the back of his head sheepishly. His shy smile was a stark contrast to the confident front he had thrown up while flirting with me.

I smiled, nodding to assure that I didn’t mind as I would’ve done the same thing. From his timid gaze, I could tell that he never really went out on dates, which greatly relieved me as I hadn’t either.

The waiter came back around again in a few minutes with two plates of omelets with hot cheese oozing out of the seams and juicy, cubed tomatoes peeking through pale yellow egg. On the side of both plates were small bowls of freshly cut fruit topped with little mint sprigs.

It gave off a very insta worthy aesthetic, so I fished out my phone before taking a bite, raising the camera. A smile unknowingly spread across my face at how at peace Yunho looked with the warm afternoon sun perfectly catching the soft curves of his full cheeks while simultaneously dusting golden flakes into his umber eyes.

I lifted my camera a little further, so that it still captured the plate before me but also included Yunho’s adorably focused face. His eyes snapped up at the sound of the camera clicking, fork dangling an inch away from his mouth as I had caught him midbite.

I put my phone away, bashfully mumbling that he looked like an angel glowing in the sunlight like that and I couldn’t pass up the opportunity to capture the moment. He blinked a few times in surprise, before laughing softly.

“You should’ve told me beforehand, I could’ve posed,” he teased, cheekily wiggling two peace signs in front of his eyes before drawing up two finger hearts.

I blushed, internally cooing at how cute he looked with such an innocent sparkle in his eye that I thought only existed in children. He was everything he looked like at that moment. A complete and utter angel who radiated purity under the glimmering sun.

Deciding to get something to drink, we called the waiter over once more, who whipped out his mini notepad habitually. And like earlier, he refused to meet my gaze for long, something both Yunho and I noticed.

Yunho flashed me a wink, nudging his head subtly at the waiter as if we weren’t on a date ourselves. I hid a giggle behind my hand at his goofy antics, quickly returning my arm back to the table when the waiter glanced up at me for a second.

“I’ll take two bubble teas with normal tapioca,” I requested, biting back a smile at the bewildered look Yunho shot me. He asked for an iced latte, eyes never leaving mine as the waiter walked away.

“Do you really like bubble tea that much?” He asked, a little awestruck. It wouldn’t have been all that surprising if I did, since everyone on Earth had one big craving they could never get enough of. So, I nodded firmly, looking him dead in the eye with a stoic “yes”.

He looked scared for a moment as if worried he said something wrong and at that I couldn’t hide my snicker.

“I do, but the second cup isn’t for me. I promised a friend that I’d bring her back something since she couldn’t go out for her break,” I explained, smiling cordially as his expression melted back into its usual peaceful bliss.

“How thoughtful,” he whispered, but I heard his sweet words as my disappearing blush suddenly bloomed all over again. I chose to ignore his comment, eyes flashing up to the waiter who reappeared once more with our drinks and a plate of bite size sugar cookies.

He placed all three cups down before putting down the plate with a quiet clinking sound. “Here’s a complimentary plate of sugar cookies for all customers who come during our opening week. Enjoy.”

And with that, he was gone again, almost tripping over himself in his haste to get away.

“Does he think I have the bubonic plague?” I wondered aloud, despite knowing why he was in such a rush. It was written all over the back of his neck and the tips of his ears in various hues of red.

“Maybe you should ask for his number,” mused Yunho, still very clearly amused over the waiter’s crush on me. I narorred my eyes at him, normally if a date encouraged you to pick up someone else then that’s a telltale sign that they’re obviously not interested in a relationship with you.

However, I could tell that Yunho meant everything that he was saying lightheartedly, so I decided to tease him back. “No thanks, I’d rather have yours.”

I could tell the unexpected flirt stunned Yunho, as his jaw dropped. I winked at him the same way he winked at me when the waiter came over, enjoying his flustered reaction. Despite the fact that Yunho would tower over me if we both stood up, he looked no bigger than a child at the moment shrinking into himself with a fiery blush. “Oh.”

I loved how table had turned, with how many times he caused my cheeks to tint pink. It was a small stroke of success, but I didn’t have the heart to continue. Taking the initiative, I asked him about himself, wanting to spend the time we had together developing a close friendship since he seemed to be a fun person to have around.

It wasn’t long before we fell into a deep conversation about ourselves. I learned that he was indeed younger than me by two years, and managed to convince him to call me noona but drop all other honorifics.

Honestly if anyone had told me that I’d end up on a date with someone younger than me, I wouldn’t have believed them. It was always a condition on my ideal type list that the male had to be older. Yet the ridiculous list completely faded away into nothingness in the back of my mind the longer I talked to Yunho.

Instead a new list wrote itself with only two conditions on it: His eyes had to sparkle like a galaxy of stars being reflected on a still lake and his smile had to hold the same warmth as a steaming cup of hot chocolate on a cold winter night.

In other words it was describing the person sitting right in front of me, as he threw his head back, laughing at one of the many comical stories I told him about my fanatical college days.

He was currently in college right now, majoring in the same subject that I majored in. It was nice having someone relate so hard to my past struggles, as he was going through the same things I had gone through with crazy strict teachers and boisterous students marching down the halls like they owned the school.

In return I told him about how I worked as an editor, along with a few facts about me that few people knew or cared to ask about, such as my lowkey love for the artist Chungha.

Yunho said that he had heard a few of her songs before too, leading us down another conversation about our tastes in music and other pop culture.

Sometime during the conversation, Yunho’s phone started to ring as he excused himself from the table. I called the waiter over again during that time, asking for a small takeout bag.

I stuffed the rest of the cookies into it, deciding to take them back to Chloe along with the drink. Pausing for a bit, I pulled out one cookie and placed it back onto the plate incase Yunho wanted one more.

It wasn’t long before he came back, brushing off the topic when I asked him if the call was important. I didn’t want to invade his privacy, hence why I didn’t push the topic. In fact, I only asked because I didn’t want to keep him if there was some sort of emergency.

We picked up on the tail of our last conversation, reengaging in a passionate debate over which Harry Potter book was the best and other things of the sort.

Before I knew it, half an hour past and my break was about to end in twenty minutes. As much as I enjoyed learning about Yunho’s love for sports, fascination over the Harry Potter, and sweet but wild group of friends, I didn’t even want to think about how my manager would breath down my back if I came back late.

Looking down to see my empty cup, I realized with a start that my hand had somehow ended up in Yunho’s. During our conversation his hand had gotten closer and closer to mine, as I had left it lying on the table. I didn’t remember when that had changed, from the tips of his fingers brushing mine to slipping his hand on top of my own.

I wasn’t sure if he noticed this, but when I tried to remove my hand back from his grip, his hold only tightened as his thumb brushed the back of my hand. It became clear that it had been quite intentional.

“Hey, Yunho?” I asked, eyes lifting from our hands up to his face.

“Yeah?” He asked, sweet smile never leaving his lips before the corner of his lips quirked up into a small smirk. It was clear that he was only teasing me by not letting go, as I uncomfortably shifted in my chair.

Deciding not to mention it to save a little bit of my pride, I glanced over at the antique clock on the opposite wall. “My lunch break is nearly over, I have to go.”

He nodded in acknowledgement of my statement, reaching over with his free hand to sling his coat over his arm. “Is it close to here?”

“Yeah, just a ten minute walk away.”

He got up, pulling me up with my hand in his. Before I could comprehend what he was doing, he intertwined our fingers, taking the last sugar cookie off the plate and stuffing it in my mouth to muffle my protests.

My ears were burning scarlet as he led me out of the cafe, pouting slightly as I chewed. This guy seriously… A question floated up, bubbling through my mouth as I looked up at Yunho with furrowed eyebrows. “Did we just dine and dash?”

Yunho shook his head with a little laugh, eyes shifting down to meet mine before looking forward again. “No, I covered the bill earlier.”

That had me pause in my step, causing Yunho to come to a stop too since our hands were intertwined. I don’t recall ever receiving the bill at our table, nor did I hear Yunho say that he was going up front to pay, otherwise I would’ve forced him to split the bill. Although, there was that one time he left to take a call…

That was when the realization of what had happened dawned on me and from Yunho’s knowing smile he could tell that I had figured it out. “You didn’t.”

“But, I did.” he chuckled once more, pulling me forward as he began to walk again. It was clear that he didn’t actually know where we were going, so I widened my stride a little so that we would be walking side by side. It was rather sweet how he intended to walk me back to my office, the same way a guy would take a date home.

Before we got far, my phone went off, the familiar tune of Chungha’s debut song filling the silence between us. My cheeks flushed pink at Yunho’s teasing gaze, deepening as he teased, “Didn’t you say you were just a minor fan?”

“Yeah, yeah,” I brushed him off, excusing myself to take the call. The caller ID read ‘Chlo~’ with a couple of red hearts after it.

“Where are you? You’re usually back by now!” Exclaimed Chloe from the other side of the line, the faint bubbling in the background signifying that she was currently in the lobby near the fountain.

“Sorry, I lost track of time,” I apologized, smiling sheepishly despite the fact that she couldn’t see me. I heard Chloe sigh, telling me to hurry up and get back because ‘she missed me’ before hanging up.

I slipped my phone back into my pocket, before swiftly making my way back to Yunho. “Sorry about that, my coworker was fretting over the fact that I wasn’t back yet.”

Yunho shook his head to dismiss my apology, saying not to worry about it since he was the one taking up my time.

Suddenly, a familiar voice could be heard from the distance coming closer and closer. “Stupid day… No, stupid date… Ditched by a guy now ditched by my clutch… I must have left if in that stupid cafe.”

The girl from earlier appeared in front of us as she rounded the corner, with her head down as she appeared to be typing away angrily on her phone. Pure and sheer panic coursed through my veins at the sight of her. If she was indeed who I thought she was, then the moment she opened her mouth, I’d be exposed.

However, before I could do anything, she slammed in Yunho’s chest due to not watching where she was going. Yunho’s hands flew to her shoulders to steady her, wincing at how he hadn’t seen her coming either since he had been looking at me.

“Watch where you’re- Oh,” she trailed off, eyes widening when she lifted her head up and saw Yunho’s face for the first time. It was almost comical how Yunho could attract the interest of everyone around him without even trying, me being included.

Her hands slowly slipped up to his arms, squeezing lightly while a flirtatious smile replaced her scowl. Since she was so close to Yunho, her back was to me and couldn’t see what I was doing.

Despite being wary of the situation, I couldn’t help but let out an over exaggerated, but silent, gagging noise. I muffled my own laughter at the act with the palm of my hand, however, Yunho didn’t have the liberty to, which was why he couldn’t hide his chuckle.

The girl clinging onto him was confused, but somehow took that as a positive sign as she started to bat her freakishly long eyelashes at him. “Hey, aren’t you Yunho? My name is Hayoung, I’m pretty sure a guy from my class set us up on a date. What was his name again… Junhao?”

I felt like my heart had stopped at her words, hands becoming cold and clammy as I looked at Yunho. Would he get mad at me? Maybe even leave and go on the date that he missed with Hayoung? In my defense I had tried to tell him that I wasn’t his date, though to be fair I really could have tried harder.

Still, Yunho didn’t notice my terrified gaze, instead looking at Hayoung’s hands which were shamelessly feeling up his biceps. He reached up to pry her hands off of him, stepping back to put some distance between the two of them.

“Yeah, that’s me, though I don’t think it’s appropriate to hang off a guy in front of his date,” he commented, shocking me to my core. Yunho finally looked at me with a soft smile, taking one of my hands in his once more.

Hayoung’s wide eyes weren’t nearly as large as mine as we were both baffled over what had just happened. My eyes kept scanning over Yunho’s face to see if I could get a read over his thoughts, yet all I could see in his eyes was the same warmth they always held.

He squeezed my hand in response, assuring me that he didn’t regret his actions as he turned back to look at a gaping Hayoung.

“Now if you’ll excuse us, we really need to go,” Yunho stated, quickly leading us away from the fuming girl.

Once we reached my office building, I stopped in front of it, saying that this was me. I gently pulled my hand out of his, shyly brushing a stray strand of hair out of my eyes.

Yunho, tucked both of his hands into his pockets as he stood in front of me, not quite wanting to leave, yet not having a valid reason to stay.

I took that as my que to ask the question burning in the back of my mind. “You didn’t seem very surprised at Hayoung’s appearance, did you know I wasn’t your date?”

Yunho nodded with a guilty smile, reaching up to rub the back of his neck in embarrassment. “Yeah, the call I took earlier was from my friend Jongho, saying that Hayoung called chewing his ear off. I also may or may not have known what she looked like beforehand…”

My jaw dropped at his confession, and to think that I had worried over nothing. “You knew and yet you approached me out of the blue? Why in the world would you do something like that? Not saying that I didn’t enjoy your company, but that’s kinda creepy you know…”

“Sorry, you were just the most attractive person I’ve ever seen in my life. Not to mention the fact that you seemed to be alone in the cafe,” Yunho apologized, eyes dropping to the floor as he was unable to meet my gaze in fear of being scolded. I was stunned into silence. That was the sweetest thing anyone had ever said to me, especially from someone so good looking.

Shoving down the reprimand I had in mind, I jokingly nudged Yunho in the ribs to get him to look at me again. “Well she didn’t really seem to be your type anyways.”

Yunho laughed at this, wholeheartedly agreeing with me. “It seems you know my type better than my own friends. Though to be honest, I’m pretty sure Jongho knew that I would never approach a girl like Hayoung and was only trying to get me back for finishing the last bottle of Sprite from his secret collection. We’re housemates.”

I laughed at his in depth explanation, relating to his struggles. Chloe moved in with me in the summer, a few months after we met. The air conditioning unit in her run down apartment kept breaking down and was twice the distance from the company than mine.

It was far more convenient with her as a housemate as we had more spare change to spend on the money we saved on rent with a split bill. However, with every housemate comes the temptation of stealing their things.

Just recalling that one time I finished the last slice of the cake Chloe bought… She deemed it fair play to sprinkle a few pinches of flour in our shared hairdryer while I was in the shower. Though I couldn’t get mad at her for it though, because she apologized immediately after, while laughing her head off. It was extremely fortunate for her that I loved her, otherwise she would have been in for it.

“Hey, you said you were an editor, but you never mentioned the fact that you worked for this particular company,” mused Yunho, drawing me back from the mini memory lane my mind had skipped down.

“Oh I must’ve forgotten to mention it,” I said, arching an eyebrow at Yunho who’s smile spread impossibly wider. I was curious as to why me working at this company sparked his interest so much.

“You know, I just passed my interview here a few months ago?” asked Yunho casually, eyes gleaming playfully at the way my eyes widened at his words.

“Holy spades, though why weren’t you with the other interns today?” I asked, recalling the reason why Chloe couldn’t join me today.

“Well we were toured around the company earlier this morning but when my group was handed off to this other woman I turned out to be the only person who knew how to work the coffee machine. I used to work part time as a barista,” he explained with a mirthful tone of voice.

“That’s explains it,” I thought, nodding at his words. As much as I loved talking to Yunho today, I knew my break was drawing to a close and that I needed to leave soon.

“Well, I guess we’ll be seeing each other more often then,” I smiled at him bashfully, already visualizing what it would be like seeing him around at the office in the future.

“Yeah,” he agreed, hesitating a little with his next actions before stepping forward and placing a chaste kiss on my cheek.

He pulled away with a burning red blush crawling up his neck as he waved goodbye and walked off, back in the direction of the cafe and what I assumed was his car.

I shoved down my own blush, trying to recollect myself as I stepped back into the front lobby of my apartment building.

Chloe was sitting on the rim of the fountain, seemingly preoccupied with her phone. It was clear that she hadn’t seen what went down outside, otherwise she would’ve pounced on me right then and there with a mountain of questions.

Sneaking up beside her, I dangled the paper bag of sugar cookies in front of her face with a small “tada”. Chloe looked up from her phone, smiling at the bag. “Ah, you’re back. Thanks.”

I also handed her the sealed takeout cup of bubble tea and a plastic straw that I had kept hidden inside of my bag. Miraculously there was still a few ice cubes left, as the cafe had its air conditioner turned pretty high to combat the early fall heat. Or maybe it was just that my bag had some sort of secret insulation tech embedded into the interior pouch. Who knows?

She accepted it with yet another “thanks” and popped the straw through the plastic covering. Taking a small sip, she hummed in content with the sweet drink. I grinned at her as she looked down at the sweet drink as if she was trying to see a visible difference between this mixture and every other milk tea she’s tried.

The cafe really did the name of bubble tea justice, with chewy tapioca pearls of a perfect consistency and a tea base with just the right amount of sugar and flavouring. It was a little pricier as expected, however the extra dollar was definitely worth it.

“It’s good isn’t it?” I asked, as she nodded without an ounce of hesitation much like I did at Yunho when he inquired about my love for bubble tea.

We made our way to the elevator arm in arm, with Chloe asking me why I had been gone for so long.

“Were you with a guy?” Chloe asked teasingly, expecting my usual mundane response of “no”. After all, dates were never my thing and she knew that quite well. I glanced at the bright red numbers flashing in the elevator’s screen, noticing that it had reached my floor.

“Actually, yes I was,” I stated mischievously, stepping out of the elevator when the door opened. I spun around, watching as Chloe’s eyes widened.

“What?!” she exclaimed, watching in horror as the door started closing before she could ask anymore questions. I knew that she wouldn’t risk angering her manager by going back late as she certainly would if she ran out of the elevator after me.

I waved at her as the door shut, laughing a little. I knew that I wouldn’t be able to get away from her later when we got home, however, I was too giddy to really think about how I’d suffer her wrath for dropping a bomb like that and just leaving.

Making my way back to my own desk, I plopped down in the spinning chair with a soft smile at everything that had occurred today. Sure, the traffic I’d have to deal with later might put a damper on my mood, and sure, I’d have to deal with Chloe’s inevitable interrogation but the carefree giddiness I felt at that moment felt like it would last forever.

When tomorrow comes, the internships will officially start and with them will come the one blue haired male that captured my attention today and heck, maybe he’ll be my fifth and final reason to stay.

[rat-apologist]

A Semi-In depth Review of Anna Todd’s After

So I’ve been seeing the trailer for the movie adaptation of this book every five seconds on my Instagram feed, and as a proud dyslexic unwilling to sit down and read it, I listened to the audiobook.

Again, these are all my opinions, if you don’t agree that’s okay.

Here is a quick, spoiler free plot synopsis for those who want/need it: Being moved from Wattpad into the real world of publishing, After follows a girl named Tessa, who simultaneously has the mentality of a five year old and an old man from the 1800’s. She is eighteen years old and is going to college to be an English major. Tessa loves control, planning, and books. She's an introvert at heart, and “not like other girls” (i.e. dresses conservatively, is a virgin (the books words, not mine)). She has a shitty mom and a nice, preppy, boyfriend who is still in high school, and her life is completely planned out. That’s all turned upside down when the poster child for emotional abuse named Harden (harry styles) waltzes into her life during a frat party her first week of college. Your typical Wattpad/teen movie drama ensues.

(the actual review under the cut)

This review is chock full of spoilers for Anna Todd’s book After. If you want a good idea of what I thought about this book without any spoilers I’ll just say this: I can really honestly say I was never bored while listening to this book. However, that is not necessarily a good thing. Often times I was just too much in awe of the clunky writing and truly evil supposedly “redeemable” characters to be bored. On a one to five star scale, I’d probably give it a two. More on that later.

Here are the things I liked:

(this one is only applicable to the audiobook) the narrator was amazing, her voice acting was very appropriate (though she did tend to drop accents sometimes- but that is forgiven because of how otherwise amazing her line delivery was- especially considering the quality of the dialogue).

Landon and Dakota were my favorite characters, and even though they had no personalities beyond what they meant to Tess and how they interacted with Harden (Hardin? Again, I listened to the audiobook I’ve got no idea how to spell that lmao) they still made the book better to listen to.

Despite the repetition of plot/narrative structures I can happily say again that I was never really bored.

Okay moving on to more mixed-bag feelings:

So the last chapter was from Harden’s perspective, and I thought that was an interesting idea. Learning what one character thinks, especially since our protagonist is, how you say, a little bad at reading/interacting with other human people. However the execution left something to be desired for me. It quite literally was just the exact same scene we just saw from the previous chapter, but from Hardens perspective instead of Tess’s. Which was just ended up being unnecessarily repetitive at times.

I liked how Tessa tried to be less judgmental throughout the book, however her growth is very, very limited.

I liked the fact that they mentioned they used condoms in pretty much every sex scene, and that most of the time clear verbal consent/clear nonverbal consent was given for the sexual stuff. That does not happen often in books, especially in fan fiction from what I understand.

I like that Tess does stand up for herself, while I could sometimes see myself comparing her to Bella Swan considering how much of her personality does kind of revolve around her relationship with Harden, she certainly was more vocal about her feelings. And boy, did she have a lot of feelings.

Moving on to the things I didn’t like, this is probably going to be a mix on writing, characters, and plot points so bear with me. (I’m saving my many thoughts on the twist for last)

Okay so a big number one is the biggest plot driver, the love story. So, I feel like it goes without saying, but the main relationship is SUPER unhealthy. Harden constantly stalks, manipulates, and bullies Tess throughout the whole book. He is pretty much abusive, using her caring for him to his own advantage and then dropping her when it suits him. Plus his hyper-sexualization of her “virtue” is really really nasty. Tess pretty much cries in every interaction they have together, and even acknowledges how toxic their relationship is, and yet I’m supposed to root for them? Hmm… I don’t think so

The near constant slut shaming and girl hate in this book bothers me, especially when it’s mixed with the hints of “I’m not like other girls” from Tess

The character descriptions kinda weird me out considering how much Harden is described like Harry Styles, like literally a tumblr punk edit of Harry Styles

The dialogue is… bad. To all the writers out there (myself included) make sure you read your dialogue out loud to see if it sounds natural, that way if your Wattpad fanfiction ever does get published, and your book is adapted into audiobook, you’ll avoid a situation like this one. Because, especially listening to it, the dialogue in this book is really really bad. Honest to god it sounds like robots imitating humans are talking to each other, only they’re trying to convince the other robots that they are humans. For some reason Anna Todd avoided using contractions for most of the book, making the characters sound unnatural and completely out of their predefined characters. Why would these college students not use words like “it’s” “we’ll” and “we’re”? It is truly astonishing, and it makes the few uses of contractions really distracting. Normally I don’t give a shit about grammar since I don’t really understand grammar, and normally grammatical errors aren’t that obvious when listening on audio, but the dialogue was seriously that bad.

The pacing was bad, that’s kinda all I have to say. It was generally too quick during plot development but then took a screeching halt for each fight/sex scene (of which there are many)

The repetition of certain words/phrases really got annoying. Everyone's always screaming, biting on their lip, or smirking. Harden is rude, as Tessa mentioned about eight million times, and Tessa finds his dirty talk arousing. We know this, because Todd uses those phrases about a billion times a chapter.

The sex scenes kind of grossed me out. I’m (in general) fine with sex, but the way the sex scenes were written seriously ucked me out. These college kids avoid using words like “penis” “dick” “pussy” etc. and use really really juvenile words like “down there” and “length”. Maybe this is a fanfiction thing, and I’ll admit that I have not read essentially any fanfiction, but it is truly a disturbing way to write sex. Especially since Tessa is written to have the experience and understanding of sex as like a child, not even understand what an orgasm is and unwilling to say words like penis or vagina, something our loverboy Harden is super attracted to, by the by.

I hate that this book uses “girl almost gets assaulted so man can come in and valiantly protect her” trope. It is super gross and I hate it. That’s kind of all I can say, the use of women's pain so that men can get some amount of redemption is awful.

More on Harden: I am sick of the “violent, broken man that I promise I can fix!” trope. It is used to justify and excuse abuse and I hate it. Tess is honestly scared of him several times in the book and it’s played as a personality quirk of his? Like everyone just accepts that’s how he is? I know for the most part we aren’t supposed to “like” him for the first part of the book, but it’s obvious that the author wants us to root for him and Tessa in some capacity. Especially with the inclusion of his perspective at the end, which in a way is exactly the kind of manipulation that he is into so idk. Also he is possessive despite the fact that they weren’t dating, and he is very clear he does not date. That’s already abuse, but of course there is more. On top of that he is cruel, and pretty stuck-up throughout the book- making him pretty much insufferable to me. And all of this shit just gets worse once the twist is introduced, and no amount of his whining from his chapter could at all change that.

The rest of the characters are all either boring, or the worst people you could ever meet. Tess’s mom, Molly, Jace, all really terrible to offset the horror of Harden. To almost justify what he does- because comparatively he doesn’t seem as bad (up until the twist).

The twist. Dear god the twist. So, as it goes it isn’t an extremely inspired twist. I’ve seen it done before in a similar way (I’m looking at you, Ten Things I Hate About You). For those who are wondering: the big twist is that Harden only really pursued Tess in the beginning because after she revealed she is a virgin at a party early on in the book he makes a pricey bet with Zed (another side character only used to add ~drama~ to Tessa and Harden’s relationship) to see who can take her virginity. All of the subsequent bullying, possessiveness, manipulation, etc. were all a ploy to have sex with her before Zed could. I feel like it goes without saying that that’s disgusting, but let me tell you exactly why: at least if he was actually interested in her at first his weird behavior could possibly be passed off as hormones (I wouldn’t like it, but I’d understand it  more if you’d try to make that argument), but the fact that it was all for a bet not only makes his disgusting actions worse, but makes the fact that he supposedly falls in love with her so much more annoying. Plus, the fact that he literally tries to trap Tessa in a lease so she can’t leave him, and tries to bribe his friends into silence really shows how little he actually cares about Tessa and her thoughts and feelings.  

So, why two stars? Honestly, because I was entertained (for lack of a better word) by this book. Maybe if I actually read it and not just listened to the audiobook it my rating would be lower, maybe if there was just one more sex scene to slow down the pace I would have been more bored. Who knows, but I was entertained. Sometimes by how terrible the dialogue is, by how astonishing the characters decisions were, sometimes by the actual plot. It’s like watching a shitty soap opera, it’s not good by any means, but it certainly keeps your attention.

[milkandhoneyoongi]

something different (hoseok scenario)

request: Hello! I recently read the drabble your wrote about taehyung and his s/o not speaking the same language, and i loved it 💗💗💗😭if you are taking requests, do you think you could do a similar version but with Hoseok? Thank you!!

a/n: some changes between this and the original found in translation?  one, it’s hobi and not taehyung.  two, reader does not speak korean...or a lot of english.  figured it would be interesting if neither of them were comfortable in the only language they shared.  adds a bit of spice.  much different vibe to this one.

and ya’al when i say i got carried away...i got carried away

ALSO i hope people aren’t annoyed by the way i lowkey diss paris in the beginning but like… i’m french so please let me live.  like the reason reader speaks french is because i’m literally fluent in french i swear.  

you can always send me a request here (please please do so i am almost done with any requests i have at the moment) and view my old imagines here

genre: angst/fluff

word count: 1,903 words

warnings: none?

       There was something about Paris that drew people in.  You understood why.  If one spends so much time in a modern world, a city that sticks to its traditional roots can have an allure, but you had grown tired of the old architecture, tired of the effortlessly beautiful vibe that applied both to Parisian style and most aspects of the city.  The stone walls and that ugly tower, you were over it all.  And maybe that was because of the connections you had made to those aspects, but you needed something new.

You needed sleek buildings and a clean metro.  You needed air that didn’t smell like rust, because no, it’s not rustic, it’s just gross.  Nothing chic about an intolerance to change.

You, always having been spontaneous and free-spirited, made a rash decision and just… Got a job in Korea.  Seoul specifically.  You had gotten lucky, finding some job to talk to French business associates of this company that you could not care less about, but it was different, and for a while that’s what you needed.  Just something different.

You thought you were just going to be talking to French business associates and occasionally exploring, but then you got a text from an unknown number.  There were three messages, one after the other, all in full Korean Hangul.  You’d probably eventually need to learn the language if you planned on sticking around, but as a kid you had told yourself the same thing during your English lessons and look where that got you.  You learned nothing.

For the time being you plugged the texts into Google Translate, hoping to get some manageable translation to which you could respond.

From unknown: Thank you for last night. It was nice talking to you. This is Hoseok, by the way.

Hoseok, you thought, Poor Hoseok.  His date gave him the wrong number.

You thought back a nice way to respond, plugging a simple “I’m sorry, but you have the wrong number,” and copying and pasting the characters to send to this Hoseok.  

Within minutes the poor boy had responded again with a simple: are you sure?

You grinned.  Why wouldn’t you be sure?  

To hoseok: Pretty sure.

And then he was calling your phone.  Odd.  You couldn’t answer… No, you couldn’t speak Korean, but you felt bad for the boy.  He was probably heartbroken.

I’m really sorry.  This is not the one from last night.   You seem sweet, and you deserve someone better anyway.

Sure, Hoseok noticed the silly mistakes in the mystery person’s Korean, but he didn’t think much of it.  Plenty of people made typos or grammatical errors.

From hoseok: Someone like you?

His heart was broken; He was feeling bold.

You held back a gasp, looking at your translator app with wide eyes.  Someone like me?  You shrugged.  This was something different.

To hoseok: Yeah.  I guess someone like me.

You and Hoseok actually got on quite well over your little text conversations, communicating almost every day.  You’d been quite flirty but he was cute and he was interested.  You were the rebound, you knew as much, but you had been before and it wasn’t too bad.  Things in your life had a way of working out.

Until he asked to meet you in person.

Yikes, you thought.  The jig was up.  How do you tell someone you really like that you’ll likely never be able to communicate in person?  You certainly didn’t know.

Maybe you should have mentioned, Oh by the way I don’t speak Korean and I’ve been using Google this entire time.  But you didn’t want to ruin a good thing, and you didn’t know if he’d be weird about that.  In a way, you had been lying to him, but you never explicitly mentioned that you were fluent in Korean so, lying by omission.  

You had never talked about the details of your personal life.  He knew you had moved to Seoul for a change of scenery and a change of pace, but you hadn’t mentioned where you moved from.  You mentioned the company you worked for, saying you worked in communications, all true. You could tell funny stories from work that day without mentioning they happened entirely in French.  The fact that I don’t speak Korean just hadn’t come up, you thought to yourself, Nothing dishonest about that.

From hoseok: Hello?

You looked back down to your screen, where Hoseok had asked if you if you wanted to meet in person.  Who’s gonna tell him? You shrugged.  

To hoseok: Hoseok I haven’t been entirely honest with you…

He frowned reading the text?  What had you lied about?  Your age?  Your location?  Your job?

I don’t speak Korean.

He read the text that said, in perfect Korean, that you didn’t speak Korean.  He hadn’t expected that, certainly not from someone who had been texting him in Korean for a few weeks, anyway.  

From hoseok: Oh.

To hoseok: I’m sorry.

From hoseok: I’m a K-Pop star, so.

To hoseok: Oh?

From hoseok: Everybody hides the scary stuff.

To hoseok: I guess so.

From hoseok: Is you not speaking Korean why you  hesitate to hang out with me?

To hoseok: Definitely.

From hoseok: Then let’s have a date.

You grinned.  Of course he didn’t mind.  You two made fast plans to meet after you got out of work, both eager to finally see one another.

You had locked eyes with him outside the small market, smiling widely at his multicolored outfit and happy expression.  “Y/N?” You nodded, shocked by how comfortable he was just pulling you into his arms as soon you did so.  He was so friendly.

“You know any English?” He asked, and you found yourself flushed as you shook your head.

“Not a lot.”  He loved your accent as it rolled over the words, the syllables falling from your unfamiliar tongue.  He found himself in awe of your appearance, your features everything they thought they would be.  You looked perfect.  Not that that mattered, but the lighting graced you in a way he hadn’t expected and he found himself just as enamoured with your appearance as he was with your words, with your wit, with your wonder.  “I speak,” you hesitated, “French.”  Funnily enough the word was hard to say with your accent, but he got it.

“French,” he said back, “Fancy.” He giggled as your brows came together, “Oh!  Fancy… avant garde.”  You grinned at how he pronounced the word with a strong American “r”.  There was something about the way he spoke, about the way he made an active effort to make you comfortable that made your heart flutter in an unfamiliar way.  “Let us go?”

You had spent the time in the market, Hoseok pointing at different things and teaching you the Korean word for it.  You had learned all sorts of thing from girl to cabbage, the last causing you to crack a wide smile.  Maybe one day you’d figure out how to tell him about the pet name in your own culture but you couldn’t find the words in that moment.  

Despite it being a day of learning, you had more fun than you had in a long time, loving the child-like giddiness that crept up your throat when he reached down and grasped your hand, swinging your hands back and forth between each other.  

You said very little overall but you left him that day eager to see him again, even if just to learn more seemingly useless words.  

There was a day he texted you in French.  You felt like a teenager again at the gesture, your limbs feeling soft like putty as you realized how far deep you really had fallen.

Over the course of several months your Korean had advanced to that of a ten year old boy.  That’s what Hoseok said anyway.  He felt overwhelming pride when your tongue formed the words correctly, or even when you tried.  You’d meet up at cafes or libraries and write down notes in a small book.  Vocab, Hangul, everything.  You were determined.

You were determined because you and Hoseok couldn’t talk much around each other but being in his presence allowed you to feel a distinct happiness that you hadn’t felt in a long time.  You couldn’t explain why, it just was that way, and he felt the same.

You were so cute and so willing to talk even if you didn’t know the words.  You’d risk it, and you’d put yourself out there, bounce back from failures and press on.  You were so admirable in your work ethic and he couldn’t help but feel electric when he was around you.  You had gotten comfortable around him and in that process given him a number of sweet French nicknames.  You told him he wouldn’t get the meaning anyway, but that it was a cultural thing thing to give people sweet pet names.  

One time he called you jagiya by mistake.  It just slipped out.  He told you that you wouldn’t get the meaning, but that it was a cultural thing.  You didn’t ask about the flush that painted his cheeks.

Within a week of calling you that by accident he asked you to officially date and it was then that he told you jagiya was reserved for significant others.  You laughed and made a move, pulling his lips to your own in an act of sweet passion.

Hoseok had told his members about you by the fifth month of dating or so.  He wanted to keep you away from his idol life for as long as possible, loving your very personal and intimate times together.  But when you became more comfortable with him when in person, he noticed little things you did that he thought would make his members laugh, things they would love about you as much as he did.  Oh, he nearly choked on his drink, love.

At first they didn’t approve.  They didn’t like the idea of him getting hurt by finding out they actually had nothing in common once they could talk to each other comfortably in real life.

But then they met you, and they saw the way both of your faces lit up at the sight of one another.

“Hobi!” You had cried, bounding toward him.  “Mon petit chouchou,” you chirped, nuzzling yourself into his arms.  You pulled away, bringing his lips to your own as you smiled.  He asked how you were in French and your eyes lit up, starlight twinkling in your irises at his attempts to connect with you.

The boys watched as you attempted to explain your day in Korean, mostly successful.  He’d softly correct you sometimes and you’d scrunch up your nose like a rabbit.  The chemistry between you two was tangible.

The members introduced themselves to you one by one in their best Korean so you’d understand and you grinned.  

After that day you often hung around the other members with Hoseok, often with his arm slung around your shoulders, head thrown back in laughter.  Sometimes you’d teach them little things in French, and you found yourself turning Seoul into a home.  You had friends, learning Korean had gotten you a raise at work and they even offered to subsidize your study of the language, and you actually had stories to tell your mother when she called.

You had never been happier than you were in Hoseok’s arms, and you didn’t need to know the words to explain how that felt.  You had found your something different and it was different in all the best ways.

[seb-owns-these-tatas]

Witcher of the Night (Chapter 22)

THIS IS MODERN ERA READER WHO WOKE UP IN THE DIMENSION OF THE WITCHER.

CHAPTER 21

WOTN MASTERLIST

Characters: Geralt of Rivia x small!Naive!Reader

Summary: Sorceress Ingrith might be going on far more ways to plan your early demise for you and your unborn child without the witcher around. The queen also thinking of plans to punish you without the use of drudging.

Warnings: Derogatory, plans attitude and words. Mention of the Witcher character named ‘Auckes’. 

Words: 5.6k

A/N: I’ve been feeling on and off with my mental state since last month. I just don’t tell anyone. Anyways, Feedbacks will be nice to receive. Thank you. I plan on writing two more last smuts for Witcher of the Night in the future chapters. So, watch out for that. I needed more of my Geralt fixation. LMAO. I’m sorry if my fic  is beginning to be boring for you, but I needed to write this for the sake of the story. I know I’m not the best writer out here. So, I’m sorry for any disappointments. Stay safe, Bb’s.

TAGLIST IS STILL OPEN FOR THIS ONE! Heehee! Don’t forget to REBLOG, COMMENT OR GIVE FEEDBACK IF YOU DID LOVE THIS CHAPTER! IT’LL MAKE ME SMILE! Sorry for the grammatical errors and such because English isn’t my mother tongue! PLEASE LEAVE FEEDBACK AFTER READING, BB! I apologize for errors!

Disclaimer: PNG’s and pictures used in edits are not mine even the GIF’s too. Character development and personalities are based from my understanding and how I want them to be. I only own my original characters in this fanfic. Geralt GIF from the Tumblr account named (B-N-A-O)

MY WORKS ARE NOT NOT NOT NOT NOOOOOOT TO BE POSTED ON ANY OTHER WEBSITES. My official username in Wattpad is “TATATHEPOTATO” and that’s the only other site I have for writing aside from Tumblr. Thank you, Tater tots!

It's been a day of hearing from Eanraig that your witcher has started his journey over the hunt for the lost witch.

Hours have also passed after hearing such devastating and surprising news from the druid about your unexpected 'cursed' pregnancy whose father was a witcher that is expected to actually be infertile. The happenings intentionally given by a genie you only knew and expected to watch and read through fairytales; Disney fairytales.

Sleep was hardly your partner last night. Thoughts coming over the idea of a maddened witcher and your pregnancy, having only minutes of light slumber that has gotten you waking up with every single thud you hear from outside your chambers. Thinking that it was someone who wanted to hurt you again especially that Geralt wasn't around for you to hide from behind.

The early knock received before sunrise has got you scrambling on your feet, latching off the locks of your door for the queen of Kaedwen to emerge from your doorstep with more than a trio of servants following her while she trespassed inside your chambers.

She stood before you in her silk, expensively designed, black night gown. With her head held up high and hair bedazzled before she even decided to pay you a visit in her usual lavish gowns.

"You are quite the woman. Also, your witcher is as well."

Queen Makeda interrogated, gaze raking all over the room to check any evidences of her necklace being thrown around. She huffed to herself when there was no traces of her enchanted, Cobalt amulet that has been stolen by your doppelganger.

"---Demanding for a soft bed for you to sleep on while he hunts for the witch who has cursed my son?"

"Not even my young daughter would approve of this," she spoke in animosity, spitting the words like how she truthfully felt, "---Your horrible kind," the latter continued, taking heedful steps forward as you've stood on your ground; firmly and never backing down.

The queen was undeniably taller than you. She'd peered down, glaring into your narrowed eyes fighting back for her attempt on intimidating you. After everything they've done, feeling scared was running through your veins. It was pumping wrath and distaste for how they've treated you like an animal for pointing fingers over the woman who has stolen her necklace---even asking such favors for Geralt when they knew how he acted towards you; using it to their advantage.

"---You and your witcher. It disgusts me,"

"Look who's talking, guess Geralt is the only way to save your cursed son then? But, you still manage to hate his kind when you're depending over him to save your prince,"

Out of the blue, you've felt fingers clasping around your throat. Her long nails sinking through your skin as her hold was tight, ceasing the air passing through your throat that has gotten you growling beneath her palm.

She intently given you a death look, bequeathing the opportunity of laying a hand on you without the witcher who has never left your side from the moment he arrived.

"Give me back my necklace. It was a gift by the king that I hold dearly,"

The bitch was barking when she had no evidence at all. You mindlessly thought in the back of your head whilst being choked at the same time.

"Your h-highness," you dryly coughed out the air she was trying to cut you off with. You've given her a menacing glare as well, your mouth in an obvious lour. Her hold shifting around your neck as she tried to shift your jaw out of its current position, making you tilt your head to give her a sharp, side-eye.

You can't help but bark out a mocking giggle, appearing to be sicko while being manhandled by your very own gender while a taunt left your fuming mouth.

"---what's your kind? I doubt your kind may be human,"

Queen Makeda scoffed after hearing that, pushing you to the ground which has left you heaving breaths and coughing out from the lack of it. Your fingers quickly grabbing onto your growing belly to protect whatever Eanraig believed there is to be inside of you. A child that he was cognizant of; slightly still leaving you in disbelief because of how you weren't seeing any changes at the image of your belly.

Until, you've realized that your period haven't visited you since the last week.

The realization had you staring at the ground you were currently sitting upon while the queen stood before you with all her might and certainty. Your instincts telling you to cease the in-denial for your pregnancy because it was the truth.

"You are awfully disrespectful. Just like your mutant."

At the mere acknowledgement of that towards your witcher, your longstanding antagonism for her has given you all the willpower of spitting on the ground she was standing on, tilting your head up at her from your seated position with utmost spite, glaring from below her in the greatest hostility you can ever give.

"You're not my queen. So I give you the least amount of my respect, Ma-ke-da. That's your name, right? Is there another word for Bitch here?---You're a bloody skank! Have I got the accent correct for everyone? Or should I continue my fake British accent? would you like it to be Scottish?"

Hushed gasps has been audibly heard from the queen's maids who stood aligned in vertical. Their posture slightly curved in a bow and never giving their gazes towards their majesty and had them glued to the ground. Howbeit, their hearing couldn't be helped as it was a natural instinct to listen despite of being ordered not to.

They've been disoriented from their prior poses, taking heed of how you've disrespect the queen who was reigning the whole kingdom. She reached out behind her, ushering over the court lady who was holding onto the used golden kirtle that seemed to be owned by a maiden who left the castle or has been punished to death.

In a cruel gesture, Queen Makeda has balled up the dress with her hands. Throwing them over your head that felt too impetuous and disfavourable because of how her servants felt the need to slyly giggle from the background.

"Womanly hands are needed in this palace," she brashly scoffed, tip-toeing over her tone like a taunt, playing over a prey she decided to amuse for the moment. You heedlessly yanked off the dress overthrown on your head and avoided their loathe-filled peepers who find your vulnerability entertaining their day.

The evil queen couldn't help but laugh beneath her breath, watching you bask in your own solitude and hopelessness---being a woman they believed as a thief or a girl with no name nor worth of living a happy and abounding life. A renegade in their kingdom that deserves the least amount of attention and respect.

It was probably your doppelganger's reality as she lives in Kaedwen; thriving in the most difficult way to live in their world---more desperate to stay alive more than you back in earth.

"I suggest you must help the maids as they serve us through night and day," she nonchalantly reiterated with a slip of her laughter every now and then. Her offhand way of talking resulting in giving her the most stony lour you could muster.

Queen Makeda spurned your woebegone with a simple simper, passing over the sepulchral spirit radiating off you. She'd turn her heels away, parading through your chambers with her servants following suit, but not forgetting to leave without a ridicule.

"Better than any corporal punishment. Am I right, tramp?"

Sundown came earlier than you've calculated. Being given the job of a scullery maid for this certain day has been backbreaking. You've scoured the dirtiest pots and plates with all your healing strength, straining your energy for the heck of it all because of how heavy their utensils and equipment can be. More than how the stuff in your workplace were much more lighter than ever. It wasn't a punishment you've expected from them considering how they've injured you in the flesh, taking Geralt's words accountable or was this just a hoax of their upcoming plans?

You knew that it won't be the only job given. Five days living in the castle has been a crestfallen experience that not any normal earthling could handle well.

Which has probably been also the reason why you were too stressed and angry with everyone and anyone including the father of your unborn child, raving in bluster for his slow-witted self in terms of one's feelings.

That was probably one of the disadvantages of being in love with a witcher. Geralt hardly receives love and care that he doesn't know how to distinguish it even for himself.

Laying on the cold surface of such mattress; back flat with aching muscles and healing wounds, one palm reached up to your slightly bilged stomach. The feeling of another human growing inside weren't obvious yet. Thinking that it was probably just because of the pastry they've fed you with which has gotten your stomach swelling.

"Are you really in there?" you quietly muttered to the ceiling, feeling your chest tighten from being all alone and dealing with what the witcher has said to you before he left. His words becoming an echo of your regret and sadness.

"---Or am I just bloated, Little princess?"

Soft caresses over your slightly curved skin has given you goosebumps all over your body. The act feeling too real for you to be talking to a baby that has probably never learn to kick yet. Simultaneously, a sigh left your mouth when you truly believed and hold on to Geralt's infertility tales when he has gotten you pregnant out of the blue.

Magic. Right. All of what was going on between you both was magic after all, even your growing child. He has been right after all.

"Am I really having a baby grow inside of me when I haven't expected this at all? your daddy probably has great swimmers---oh, wait. He should've been infertile." the train of thought has been ceased, your mouth curling in the opposite of a smile. Frowning being your constant expression the past few days with a round-the-clock dismal mood once you wake up and try to have a nap when you were hardly being given the chance to just like how your insomnia tries to eat you alive again.

It hasn't even visited you since before you've woken up from a different dimension. Insomnia has never been an issue when you've arrived in the continent. Perhaps, the witcher may be one of the reasons for your inner beasts to hide. Though, with the mist surrounding you both---it started to pay you a visit especially after experiencing physical and mental struggles through out your stay in the castle.

No matter how disappointed and angry you were with Geralt, he has still been your refuge from all the danger that his world can cause.

"Is this really happening? I'm going to be a mother now?" you went on in talking to no one in particular, caressing your stomach against the palm of your hand like how a mother would.

"---with the brooding witcher as your father?"

The mouth curled downward languidly pulled the strings to a solemn smile. Memories of Geralt and how he was finding you unappealing as each day passes was like a reality meant for you because even men in your world eventually leaves when you were showing them your humanly capabilities---the darker part of you that nobody can ever tolerate.

Even the witcher found you pathetic---a man from another world seeing what you actually were. Not an angel that all men believed you to be.

With a growing baby inside of you, it would be difficult to forget Geralt because of how he'd left a part of him inside of you and will eventually be born in a world you were fearful of.

When you said back in earth, that you wanted a child with Legolas. You didn't mean for it to happen in real life. Especially from a man who don't take children as a gift---something worth to be proud of as you remembered how Eanraig said that he would rather have his own child as a bait for monsters than to let him live in the continent.

Your heart was tightening further as you continued talking to your unborn offspring and into the brisk, solitary midnight with nothing but shadows to comfort your forlorn soul, "Your poppa' certainly won't accept you if he knows about your existence. Based on how we got into a fight over feelings we both don't understand." Pause.

"---If I shave his white head, will it be worth the revenge? You think he cares for his hair? Or maybe hide his witcher potions somewhere else where he would have a difficult time seeing it?"

You couldn't help but slightly giggle to yourself. The sound dethering and fading in the end from how forced it sounded; faking the happiness and trying to uplift your spirits by thinking that Geralt would still accept you in his life after tying him in a responsibility that he will surely detest.

"---I still can't help but think of him though. Especially after knowing you're growing inside of me now. I doubt he actually thinks of me more than I do,"

"Maybe the witcher might want to say that he loves you and that he is still on his witch hunt!"

Catching you off-guard, a squeaky, upbeat, childish voice resonated in your chambers. Hushed to the most quietest voice she could do, standing before the end of your bed was a curly haired child who was grinning amongst the shadows she tries to hide herself in. Her two front teeth sitting apart which has made her appear more adorable than ever. The features she had slowly coming to a point that it seemed to be familiar---like you've seen her face and heard her voice back in earth.

The child standing before you was a little demon known in your dimension. Delilah Cincinnati. A child who has always made your work more difficult than it can ever be---a nuisance who could always get you tripping when you were serving food for customers. You've had a nickname for her, Deli-the-menace that came from the character 'Dennis-the-menace' but this one was a little girl and her devilish grin suited her name.

But, her grin seemed to be different in this world. It was more sweet, utterly masking in pure innocence that made you sit your back on the headboard. Your fingers reaching below your pillows to grab onto the kitchen knife you've managed to sneak in because of how you didn't trust anyone in the castle---taking Geralt's advices seriously.

People would probably think you were crazy, but you've been thinking that this child in front of you would transform into an evil gnome and eat your unborn baby because she was hungry for flesh.

"Delilah?" your voice turned squeaky as well. Swallowing the nervousness back down the pit of your stomach, you crumpled your legs under your thighs, shifting away from the child when she dragged her feet upon the foot of the bed; crawling towards you with a smile.

She jumped the half of her body beside you, tucking her little legs under the bed sheets. The ends of it pulled by her tiny fingers and tucked under her chin whilst turning her whole body with a ceaseless smile.

"You're a silly lady! I'm no Delilah, miss witcheress."

The adorable child snuggled closer on your side, hiding behind your body as if she was sneaking from someone.

"Princess Corinthia of Kaedwen. You can call me 'Coco' instead. Just don't tell my mother!" she placed a finger in between her pursed lips, giggling behind as she thoroughly sneaked her miniscule body in between you and the headboard.

You've inhaled a deep breath before being cut-off by the princess and her mischievous warning, "Shh. The knights are searching for me!"

She pointed towards a large sized painted picture of the whole royal family hung over the stone walls, enclosing her mouth with her small palms while she whispered.

"---A secret door."

Princess Corinthia offered another giggle that has kept your mouth zipped because of how untrustful she still is to you. Though, you dropped the knife back under your pillows again when she seemed to be harmless than what you imagined her to be; a little devil or a tiny monster that she might be in the witcher's dimension.

"I am a curious child. I've been hearing the tales of a white haired beast slayer stepping foot in our fortress! The maids even said that he has brought a frog for him to protect and this frog is his bride as every single person in the palace has gossiped about. Are you the frog? Do you have a curse like my brother too?"

At the mention of that, the scowl suddenly became one prominent expression since the moment you arrived in the castle. Huffing out a breath of exasperation over what nickname you've gotten. The witcher's frog. It didn't sound too appealing for you and even for the child because she was giggling through it all.

"A frog?! Seriously?! They were calling me ugly. How rude of them," you stated as a matter of fact.

"Our maids are just probably thirsty whores who may want your witcha'!" your eyes grew from the profanity that left her mouth. A single, plain warning of a look has been given to the child.

"That's a bad word."

The castle princess ignored your upbraid, palms covering her mouth with her eyes turning into big saucers that looked like to be as if she was guilty over saying such blasphemy.

"---because of the epic that his humble bard has created, many have been less frightened over their kind. Though, some are quite suspicious and still looking at them in disgust just like how most of our servants are. Is he handsome? they were chattering about him last supper in the kitchen! Also, they've talked about how they have seen how he didn't think twice to point his sword at any of our men---Chivalry at its finest from a butcher as said by them,"

From the way she has mentioned it came with astonishment over the witcher's valiant and chivalrous actions. Your mind in a blurry mess when you have seen him the first time---being brought to a room where Geralt has reacted in an aggressive way towards everyone in the room that not even a king can scare him away when you were a bleeding mess shoved on the floors. Your heart constantly being poked by a knife after realizing that a fight came after his magnanimity, the other side of you thinking that he has done it out of affection and care. Expecting it to be more than just how a sentiment is towards a friend because you've been seeing him more than just your confidante.

Was this how friends with benefits is in their world?

You couldn't help the crinkles on the side of your eyes. A small, close mouthed smile warping your face at the thought of the witcher you were highly proud of deep inside.

"He is quite dashing, brooding and utterly like a knight in shining armor, don't you think?"

"I may want to have a husband like him in the future!"

"I doubt you could," you simply testified, remembering that princesses in the medieval era are forbidden to marry a commoner. More so, for a witcher whom everyone repels towards their kind.

"---A princess can only be with a prince. Unless, you're in a Disney story. Then you can be like---"

She immediately cut you off with a sad pout, "Aren't witchers like a prince? beast slayers but still a prince?"

You've turned to look into her eyes; genuine and seeming to be in a different state of mind as you sincerely implored, "To me---he's a knight. An imperfectly, perfect scarred knight who always saves my life." pause. "---Sometimes, picking a commoner is better than being with a perfect prince because they always make you believe in fairytales that don't exist. The witcher's a mutant. A freak of nature that they always see of him. An experimented human who had no other choice but to accept his lonely fate. But, this doesn't make him any less human, Princess Coco."

Princess Corinthia had her almond, doe eyes peering up at you. Her spirit filled in utmost inquiry for what your witcher really actually is. Unable to perceive how he also looked like because she had only seen his armored, broad back as he gently dropped you on the bed. Both of you seeming to be in a debate while his face inches away from yours, seeing him lean all the way forward to give you a pucker of his lips. A gesture that the princess has always seen from servants who had a secretive relationship with their knights. The opposite of what she sees from her parents because you never leaned away from Geralt unlike how the queen avoids her husband's affections.

Endearing to be seen from you both because her parents hardly appeared to cherish one another.

"Geralt has a kind heart that no other prince may let me see from and I wish for your future to be best and full of love like how I wish to have,"

"Geralt? is that the witcher's name?"

You've heard loud stomps of footsteps banging outside the room, knowing that it was probably chevaliers searching for the young princess. She was quick to pull the blanket over her head, forcefully shoving herself on your side for cover. Hence, it also made you slip under the covers, grabbing onto her fragile shoulders to pull her inside to veil away from the night that wanted to pull her in for a nightmare. The cloying feeling swaying your insides because of a young child that could delicately press onto your heartstrings, showing you how precious it was to have a daughter who was utterly sweet and gullible.

You couldn't help but giggle under the covers with her, subtly reaching for your growing stomach with a hidden caress.

"Yes it is, Princess. Now, hide!"

Morning came after and the night has still given you beasts as your foe, battling through the hours which has never given you enough sleep. The queen's princess having more sleep as she laid on your arm, telling you that she also had her own monsters to challenge with because she slept alone in her bed, thinking that it was all a lie when she dozed off after half an hour of your stories about Geralt and his adventures.

An understanding hitting you like a freight train when she began snoring as she slept on your bed.

The princess just needed someone to cuddle with. Comfort from another woman that the queen should've been doing because it was her daughter and not yours to begin with.

Dressed in your servant's clothes and standing in the middle of an empty kitchen, most servants have been called to be in the queen's chambers except for you. With a gurgling stomach and a set of pastries lined up in front of you and on the decrepit, wooden table---your fingers reach out for a piece of marzipan cakes until it has been whacked away from your hands with a tolerating slap of strength.

You were too hungry to even process that you have grabbed onto a kitchen knife, seeming to be in a greater starvation as each day passes by due to cravings for more food everyday. The blade has been hastily pointed upon the man's weak spot on his neck---remembering Jaskier's teachings about what vulnerable spot does it take to slash one's neck for him or her to bleed till her death.

Stunned forest green eyes were all wide as you point the tip upon his jugular. Your teeth barred and appearing wild before the familiar gallant whom you remembered to have seen back when Tybalt has forced his entry through your home. He was the cavalier who wanted nothing to do with Jaskier being shoved to the ground. The hesitant knight that you awfully remember.

"What are you going to do to me? Hurt me again?" you bark out loud, your fingers slightly trembling as the blade was close to his porcelain skin,  "---You knights are---!!!"

The obsidian eyed gallant raised his palm to covers your mouth, his gaze shifting around the empty kitchen before he talked, "Shhh. Don't eat those."

"---Mmmh!" you battled against his hold, shifting away but he forcefully kept you close by, never risking for you to scream or run away.

He shook his head, seeing him anxiously bite on his lower lip and looking away. His hand promptly leaving your mouth as he reached to grab onto one dessert that he saw one charmed servant bake and pour a nasty vile in the batter, "They're poisoned. I've heard it from Tybalt that you might be having a cub growing inside of you. One of the maids have been enchanted, poisoning your food."

You couldn't help but shut your eyes close in exasperation over people wanting to put you in danger. Your hunches immediately thinking about Ingrith because she has been the only person who couldn't stand you and the child you were bearing.

"Notice how no one eats them?"

"But, I seen them eat before I'm around,"

"But, not these. Correct?"

The maids have never eaten any dessert---nor had it look touched. They were devouring food, right. But, not desserts because somehow they suddenly had no sweet tooth over pastries; slyly knowing that you had a penchant over sweets.

It was probably the reason why they were simply poisoned.

You couldn't help but bite the insides of your cheeks, pulling out a chair from the table to tiredly sit and sigh about how stressful it is to stay alive in Geralt's dimension when people wanted you dead since the moment that an out-of-the-blue child has been living inside your stomach.

Was it a mistake made? was the child a mistake so that was why people were scared for it to be born? Eanraig has said that she would be born with a purpose to save their dimension---receiving such help to save humanity and cease chaos.

As much as how difficult it was to understand that, the only thing that has ever been a mistake was trying to honestly tell Geralt you love him before being cut-off by your witcher.

"Is it true?" the gallant curiously inquired, leaning his hip on the edge of the table as he crossed his arms in front of you.

"---that the Witcher is your child's father?"

It was still quite awkward to tell knowing that he was supposed to be infertile. But, being in a world where magic exists probably isn't the only thing peculiar after all.

"Yes."

"Oh, great. It wasn't just plain gossip after all," he momentarily exhaled a breath, rolling his shoulders back. Quietly moaning as he stretched his limbs, his youthful, juvenile timbre in his tone turning squeaky and nonchalant, "---They'll loathe you more especially that you're up the spout with the witcher's child,"

You could see the disgust in their eyes. People in the castle who somehow managed to see you. Though, the case with Eanraig, princess Coco and this chevalier was different because they looked at you as if there was nothing wrong which it should've been.

"Why?"

He pursed his lips and shook his head, grabbing onto another set of pastry that looked like some pudding as he raised it to his nose, subtly sniffing the food before calmly throwing it back away again, "That's not a question. Think of it---you're pregnant by a monster slayer who had tales of his kind that he is completely barren due to his genetic mutations. Then, you're suddenly carrying his sprog for magical reasons,"

Your eyes quickly narrowed with how sarcastic he sounded.

He continued his chatter, sighing every once in a while as he said his words that seemed to be a quote coming from another, "---Witchers are the offspring of foul sorcery and witchcraft. They are unscrupulous scoundrels without conscience and virtue, veritable creatures from hell capable only of taking lives..."

The latter exhaled one last long breathe, dramatic enough to pay heed over how you were trying to see through him; thinking what kind of person he was because after being injured within the castle has made you wary of anyone who wanted to talk. It even got to the point that you were guessing he wanted to talk and seek out information from you.

"---I've always remembered Amaury and his beliefs over witchers since he has encountered one before he was killed by him," he gave a small beam, showing teeth while he was in a flashback of memories from his journey before with a deceased close friend.

"I remember he goes by the name Auckes---maybe your witcher might know him,"

You simply nodded. Still cautious of his presence while you hugged your stomach from him.

"There are other witchers too?"

Geralt has left that question unanswered, back when you were serving ale for him. You've tried to remember that name for when you try to ask your witcher---that is if you're still planning on talking to him after the fight you and him had or if he would even care to answer.

Eventually, it was needed to talk to the father of your own child of surprise. A child of surprise that had no law being given or said.

He noticed you were dazing off, too deep in your thoughts that got him sauntering over the kitchen cabinets, slipping a hand inside to try and eyeball some fruit he tried to hid this morning. The man was thinking you were starving already which tells why you were staring out of nowhere, considering that you were eating for two.

"---Auckes became an assassin. He was formerly a witcha',"

You've snapped out of your stupor, the empathy you had for people swiftly slipping through your mind, "I'm sorry to hear that. May your friend's soul rest in peace."

"Amaury might be having a good time where ever he is right now,"

He strolled back to where you sat, standing before you with a bundle of apples, oranges and boiled eggs. His hands reaching out to give them while whispering the next sentences like he was forbidden to do it from the start or even talk to you, "Watch out for anyone. They have an entire repugnance for his kind and anyone related to him," you've taken the food out of his hands, placing them all on your apron and bunching them to yourself.

The lean built gallant took a step back, hands behind his back and realizing that he was younger than you thought. In the same age as Jaskier when he gave you a boyish smile, "Take care of yourself. Especially your child,"

You've finally beamed before him, slowly loosening up around his infectious presence. Self deciding that he was worth to trust after he took a bite of his own apple hidden inside the pocket of his breeches, showing you that the food he gave was poison free.

"Do you have a name?"

"Of course. The name's Otker."

"Thank you for the warning, Otker." the latter gave a toothy grin before it fell in a hot second, reaching to cup his nape in sheer embarrassment for whatever he was thinking.

"Forgive me for I have not helped you through Tybalt's plans," he honestly apologized.

Without warning, there were voices echoing outside. Voices of maidens chewing the rag over what the queen has told them and it made you shot up from your seat, the bulwark surrounding you suddenly building itself from hearing other people closing in---people who weren't worth the trust.

"It's fine. You had no other choice. You can't betray the man who you work for. Evil or not."

Otker cocked his head to the side with a knowing smile, his mouth in an amused straight line as he walked away with his steps going backward. He was agreeing to what you've said but also somehow disagreeing too.

"Tybalt's not all evil," the green eyed gallant pursed his lips from his psychoanalysis over the higher vampire after working with him for half a year or so; having faith over his ungodly gestures like his appearance had been a misunderstanding for his wicked characteristics that you find in him.

"---but, he isn't good either. Just being whispered words of propaganda by everyone surrounding him,"

A simple shake of your head was enough to get Otker shrugging his shoulders because he knew you weren't convinced after Tybalt basically stabbing you on the hip before he walked away as the judging servants came in the kitchen one by one again---planning to continue the stress they have been pouring.

Taglist for WOTN: (Strikethrough means your blog can’t be tagged. Please check your settings, bb’s! Thank you.) @alyxkbrl @himarisolace @barkingbullfrog @ayamenimthiriel @hellodevilslittlesister @turkish276 @spookypeachx @grungelovebug @fangirl-inthe-us @nympeth @amirahiddleston @gabethelobster @dreaming-about-fanfictions @uncoolcloudyhead @melaninstylezz @psychosupernaturalhero @missjenniferb @dance-dreamer​​​ @marvelousell​​​ @kingniazx​​​ @angelias134​​​ @tapismyforte​​​ @chook007​​​ @covid-donotenter​​​ @deadlydemon​​ @cheesecakeisapie​​ @angelofthor​​​ @carrieannewaywardson, @plantingmum, @stuckupstucky​​, @shesthelastjedi​​, @a--1--1--3​​, @gutfucks​​, @raynosaurus-rex​​, @britty443​​, @suhke3​​, @shadowclawstudio88​​, @ruthoakenshield​​, @just-a-sad-donut​​, @gxrdenr0se, @singeramg​​  @friendlyneighbourhoodweirdo​, @alexwinchester23​

Overall witcher taglist: @pizza-eater-i-ate-the-pizza​​, @crazybutconfidentaf​​

General taglist for any Henry Cavill fics: @agniavateira​​, @iloveyouyen​​, @rahdaleigh​​, @silverkitten547​​, @henrythickcavill​​, @kaatelyyynn​​, @marvelousell​​, @madelinelina​​, @summersong69​​, @raynosaurus-rex​​, @fckdeusername​​, @evansislife​​

[thesoftdumbass]

Finding Home

Avengers X enhanced Reader Words: 1630 Characters: Reader, Bucky Barnes, Steve Rogers, Wanda Maximoff, Maria Hill (mentioned), Clint Barton, Sam Wilson, Natasha Romanoff, Tony Stark, Nick Fury (mentioned)

Warnings: living on the streets, slight talk of abuse, enhanced individual

Request: Don't know if it's been requested before but could you do a reader insert where the reader is like 15 or something and has powers and doesn't necessarily use them for good most of the time and the avengers are sent to find her but they don't know how young she is. Sorry if it doesn't make sense.

Author's Note: Hi there! This was requested by anonymous, and I really like this prompt! It took me about a week to write and for that I'm sorry, I couldn't get my mind to focus on this. I wrote Bucky as a sort of older brother figure in this, I just think that's really cute. I strayed a little from the request but that’s just the direction it went. Sorry about that! You can send me requests if you want, I may or may not write them. Sorry for any spelling or grammatical errors, I hope you like it! (I’m also gonna put it out there that I am horrible at coming up with names and endings for fics) -Taylor

You ducked back into the alleyway that you call home, having just arrived back from the grocery store a few blocks over. You hated to steal, but you had to eat to survive, and using your powers seemed like the only way to provide for yourself. Nobody would give a job to a homeless fifteen year old. You were given up by your birth mother to an organization, who raised you and experimented on you. They raised you as if you were a tool, and not a human person. That's why you ran away the first chance you got. You've been living alone in New York City ever since.

You settled in on your pile of dirty blankets and pulled an apple out of your bag. you managed to grab it, a loaf of bread, a small jar of peanut butter, and a few bottles of water. It was all you could risk without being caught, even with using your telekinesis to fling items at the walls and distract any clerks or store managers that happened to be around. You took a bite out of your apple and glanced at your surroundings. You noticed a newcomer to the group that you shared the dimly lit alleyway with, a man with long chestnut hair, a dark sweatshirt on and maroon cap pulled low over his eyes.

He looked like he had been through a lot but he seemed innocuous, so you picked up your stolen goods and walked toward him. You sat down silently a few feet away and looked to the man who was now watching you.

"Hi, I'm (Y/N). What's your name," you asked gently.

"James," the man responds a little gruffly.

"Nice to meet you James, I've never seen you around here before. I was wondering if you want something to eat, I've got the stuff for peanut butter sandwiches if you're interested."

James looks at your proffered items, giving you a small smile. "Thank you (Y/N), but I'm not hungry."

"Just thought I'd offer," you reply to him. You sit in silence as James stares forward, but he breaks it after accepting some of the water you offered him.

"You seem pretty young to be living out here. How old are you, anyways?" James was curious.

You looked down shyly, watching your hands as they twisted in your lap. "I'm fifteen, I've been out here for two years."

"I'm really sorry about that," James conveys to you.

"It's alright. Here is better than where I was before, and I can take care of myself," you reassure him.

Unknown to you, the Avengers had been listening in on your conversation with James. The entire team felt for you, but they had a job to do, make sure you weren't dangerous. They had sent Bucky in to gain your trust and it had worked. Now they just needed to talk to you as a team.

"We can just ask her to come over here," Steve said from the stake-out vehicle that part of the team was camped out in.

"Yeah, that will go well," Wanda said sarcastically. "Let's just invite a teenage girl to talk in the back of the creepy windowless van. It's not like we won't get arrested, and possibly injured, if what Hill says is true."

"She's right, Cap. It sounds like we're trying to kidnap her," Clint remarked from the driver's seat.

"Alright, we don't have to get sarcastic. You could have just said that it was a bad idea," Steve defended himself.

"Did we not get the point across, or should we try again?" Sam sassed out.

"Okay okay, I get it. Maybe you should come up with a plan, then."

Natasha decided to end the squabbling. "Look, she seems to trust Bucky, or James. But just because she's being kind to a fellow 'homeless' person, doesn't mean she would follow him to Avengers HQ. Maybe Wanda and Sam could go in there and talk to her, try to get a feel for her powers. Steve and Clint can be at the other end of the alley in case she tries to run, and I'll be here keeping an eye on everyone."

"That's a good plan, Nat. Let's try that," Wanda spoke up. Everybody agreed, so they started to disperse from the vehicle.

Meanwhile, you and James had been talking amiably, and you learned that he was a veteran in the army, and you told him about some of the friends you had made around the city. You were both silent for a few minutes, letting the noise of the city in five o'clock traffic wash over you. It was then that you noticed a dark skinned man and a brunette woman walking toward you. They walked with a purpose, not like they were just taking a shortcut to get to Central Park, and you tensed up.

James noticed your rigidity and turned to look at the pair walking closer. He stood up and put himself in front of you, talking to the man and woman.

"What are you two doing here," James asked quietly.

"Relax, we just want to talk to her," the woman said in a thick accent. She looked nice enough, but you had seen this type before. You stood up and placed yourself beside James.

"Why do you want to talk to me, are you Social Services?" you ask coldly.

The man chuckles. "No, we're not Social Services. We just want to talk to you. I'm Sam, this is Wanda. We are here to help."

"We're going to help you, that's what the last people said, and they locked me up like a criminal. So thanks, but no thanks," you retort.

"What? Who locked you up?" Wanda asks with concern in her tone.

"It's nothing to bother yourself with, I've said too much. Just leave me alone and I'll leave you alone."

"No, hold on (Y/N). Who hurt you," James asked, grabbing your wrist gently.

"Like I said, nothing to concern yourself with."

"(Y/N), we are here to help you. Let's just go back to our office and we can talk. We're Avengers, we help people. People like you," Sam said softly.

You looked at him oddly, so Wanda spoke up. "We know you are enhanced, I am too." Wanda looked around suspiciously, noting the many people in the alley with you. "Look, can we talk somewhere else? This is kind of a sensitive subject."

You nodded numbly, trying to think of how they knew you are special. You were careful, you thought. That's just a question to ask later, you guess. You watch as James puts a hand to his ear, speaking to seemingly nobody. "We got her, Nat. We're coming to you."

You wound up next to an inconspicuous van with no windows, and you raised your eyebrows to the group you were with.

"I told you she would think we were trying to kidnap her," Wanda muttered to Sam.

It was then that the back of the van opened, revealing a tall red headed woman. As she stepped out, two blond men walked up beside you five. "The gang's all here, ready to go to Avenger's tower?"

You nodded hesitantly and left with them. After arriving at the tower, you were awestruck. You were escorted to a large meeting room on one of the top floors and sat down. Several more joined your group and everybody was introduced, all sitting down around the spacious conference table.

"Okay everyone, as you may know, this is (Y/N) (Y/L/N). Fury sent word to pick her up and talk to her, making sure she's not a danger.That is what we're here to do," the one introduced to you as Tony began. Everybody looked to you and you waved awkwardly.

"Tony, let's not talk about her like she's not here," Bucky, as you'd been informed is his nickname, said. He then turned to you. "Do you want to tell us your story?"

And so you did. You told them about how your mother didn't want you and so she gave you to a group of heartless people who experimented on you, giving you powers and raising you as a weapon. You managed to escape at the age of thirteen, and you had been living on the streets since, using your powers to steal the supplies necessary to stay alive. When you finished your story, the entire group around you looked either angry for the way you were treated, or sad for how you had had to live.

Clearing his throat, Steve stood up at the head of the table. "We knew most of what you told us, and I'm sorry for how you were treated. What we didn't know is how young you are. Why don't you go with Wanda and let us speak for a few minutes?"

"Can Ja- Bucky come too," you ask in a small voice. He's the one you are most comfortable with at this point.

"Of course I can doll, come on. Let's get you something to eat."

You were ushered to the kitchen while the Avengers had a discussion concerning you. While they didn't want another fifteen year old kid pushed into this life after Spidey, they were unable to let you live on the streets alone, and it's not like foster homes would accept an enhanced individual. A decision was reached that you would live in the tower with the team if you wanted, and then when you turned eighteen, you could join the Avengers.

You were ecstatic when Wanda and Steve told you, and decided that you would like to accept their offer. That day you gained a home and a family, but you never forgot where you started and how far you've come.

[tyson-berry-blog]

Alex Ovechkin (plus some Evgeni Malkin) #1 - Best Friends

Anon asked: can u do an Ovi or Geno one? doesn't necessarily have to be romantic since they're both married!

“What?? Emma actually posted two days in a row??” Yeah, I don’t know guys, I have felt super motivated to write these past few days so hopefully that will continue. This is my first purely platonic imagine and I thoroughly enjoyed writing it. I feel like Alex Ovechkin would be the best friend anyone could ever ask for. I hope you enjoy!

Having parents from two different countries allowed you the benefit of growing up in a two language household. Your father was born in Russia and lived there until the age of eighteen. He was only meant to reside in the United States for the duration of college but ended up meeting your mother during his sophomore years and well, that was that.

When you were born it was decided that you would be raised bilingual so that while you were raised in the United States, you would still be connected to your Russian heritage. This would prove to be a major asset later in life because it allowed for you to apply for a position in the NHL as a translator. Your kind nature and motivational attitude made you a favorite of the Russian rookies that you were hired to work with. While it was common for the rookies to be paired with seasoned players to learn English, you were brought in for the extra tutoring.

It was 2004 and your second year working with the NHL players when you were introduced to two people who would go on to become very close friends of yours. Alexander Ovechkin and Evgeni Malkin were drafted first and second overall respectively. You were stationed just off to the side of the stage to welcome them after their names were called. Alexander was called first and walked up on the stage, eyes wide with wonder. He placed the hat on his head, shook everyone’s hands and took the customary photo. He was directed off stage in your direction and when you made eye contact, you gave him a small wave.

He approached slowly, unsure of what was going on.

“Hi. Alexander is it?”

His entire demeanor immediately shifted and a bright smile lit up his face.

You shook his hand and introduced yourself as the translator and English tutor.  

His face scrunched up at the word tutor, “tutor? So you’ll be my teacher?”

“Basically yes. You and any other Russians that pass through the draft.”

The second pick was about to be announced so the two of you turned back towards the stage. Evgeni Malkin was selected second by the Pittsburgh Penguins.

You turned to Alex, “looks like I’m two for two.”

He laughed and watched as Evgeni walked down the stairs towards you. He smiled when he saw Alex but grew wary when his eyes shifted to you.

“It’s fine Zhenya. This is the translator and apparent tutor.”

“Tutor?” Evgeni’s face furrow much liked Alex’s had. “Like a teacher?”

“That’s exactly what he said,” you chimed in, pointing to Alex.

“Not too bad of an accent for an American,” Evgeni teased. 

“My dad is from Russia I’ll have you know, Evgeni.”

“You can call me Geno, all my friends do.”

“Then why did Alexander call you Zhenya?”

“Sasha is special,” the motion he made with his hands implied that special really meant crazy.

It wasn’t until the fifteenth pick that another Russian player was selected. Alexander Radulov joined your small group but his personality was nowhere near as lively as Geno’s and Alex’s.

You exchanged contact information with the three of them and let them know that their first assignment would come the following week.

“If you have any questions, do not hesitate to ask. Once your schedules are more solidified then we can arrange Skype sessions so that I can work through assignments with you. I expect weekly updates on your progress and will typically come visit once a month, assuming that my schedule permits. I encourage you all to seek English help besides me as it will allow you more one-on-one time though it is entirely possible to be successful just with my assistance, granted that you do your assignments. Any questions?”

The three of them blinked back at you, stunned, but shook their heads.

“Awesome,” you clapped your hands together. “Congratulations on being drafted, it is a big accomplishment and I wish you all the best of luck!”

By the end of the draft, you had twenty new players, all with varying degrees of English skills. The first assignment went out to them a week after the draft, just as you informed them. It was a simple worksheet meant to help you gauge their comprehension levels and get to know a little bit more about them.

Alexander, predictably, had the most outrageous answers to any of the questions. They were detailed though, which showed that while he was having a good time, he still put in the effort. Evgeni’s were not nearly as long but still funny.

Out of all twenty of the most recent draftees, Geno and Alex were the only two to interact past their lessons. It wasn’t uncommon for you to wake up to numerous texts from the two of them. With you, they could bounce between languages and not have to worry about you not understanding. Skype sessions with you would continue long after your corrected their grammatical errors and your relationship went from acquaintances to well into the friendship territory.

Nearly fifteen years later, your friendships with them were as strong as ever. You had been not only present at both of their weddings, but in their wedding parties. Your own wedding was set for a few months down the road. Your fiancé was bilingual as well but instead of Russian and English, they spoke English and French. Your poor future children were going to have to deal with learning three languages. You were exiting the post office after dropping off the invitations when your phone rang.

Before you could get out a greeting, the voice on the other end cut you off. “Who is it going to be? Me or Zheyna?”

“Alex? What are you talking about?”

“I saw your engagement photos. I’m offended that I had to find out from the internet but that isn’t what we need to talk about right now.”

“What are we talking about right now?” you were very confused. “I need some context here.”

“Who is going to be your best man? Man of honor? Whatever it’s called.”

“What? Alex, you’re still not making sense.”

Alex sighed on the other end of the line, “I know Zhenya and I are your best friends, so who are you going to choose to be in your wedding party?”

“Who said I was going to choose one of you? Maybe I was going to pick my cousin.”

“Oh you wound me!”

“Stop being so dramatic. If you act like that then maybe I will pick Geno, just to spite you.”

“You wouldn’t.”

“Are you willing to risk it?”

That shut him up.

“Besides,” you continued, “I hadn’t thought that far. Maybe you and Geno need to battle it out. Whoever wins in the Penguins/Capitals series can be in my wedding party.”

“Is that a challenge? Because I accept.”

“I was just joking.”

“Too late!”

“You can both be in my wedding party. Assuming Geno even wants to be.”

Alex snorted, “we both know that Zhenya would do anything for you. You’re his son’s god-parent! I think it’s a safe assumption that he would want to.”

“I’ll have to call and ask him.”

“I can do it.”

“As if,” you laughed. “If I left it up to you, Geno would mysteriously have been given the wrong dates and not show up so you could have the spot all too yourself.”

“Damn. You figured it out.”

“I’ve known you too long to not know the tricks you have up your sleeve.”

“So that’s a yes?”

You let out a long sigh, “I guess. If I have to.”

“I just remembered what this means.”

“What does this mean?”

“We get to throw you the stripper party!”

“It’s not called a stripper party!”

“It might as well be because every good party has to have a stripper. Everyone knows that. Oh, and vodka!”

“I don’t even like vodka.”

“Lot’s of vodka! It’s not a true Russian wedding without vodka!”

“I take it back. I am going to ask my cousin.”

“Too late,” Alex said. “So what’s your type? Stripper-wise I mean.”

“I’m hanging up on you.”

You hung up on the sound of Alex laughing so hard he started choking. Even though they were a constant pain in the ass, the two of them really only had your best interest in mind. Despite all the crazy antics they got you into, you were glad you had them in your life.

[chick-from-nz]

Paper, Scissors, Rank (Ch: 4)

CHARACTER/PAIRING: Modern!Carrillo x Army!OC (eventually) 

WARNINGS: maybe some swearing, military slang, more military talk,  spelling and grammatical errors. Flippy floppy points of view and tenses. Could be very OOC/AU for some. Carrillo may not be narcos accurate as this is an AU. Some OC x OC 

AUTHORS NOTE:  big thanks to @1zashreena1 and @girlpornparadise for letting me bounce ideas off them  while writing this, hopefully y'all enjoy this and finally, they meet! My first time writing this way so, be nice?

WORD COUNT: 2.1k

CHAPTER:   4 OF ?

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 It's as if running into a wall of muscle knocked some sense into her. The name on the shirt scared her enough to trigger her cadet instincts to kick in quickly to allow her to shake the hands off, step back, and salute, despite being inside, which was a tradition reserved for only the army. She held the salute for longer than necessary, wondering why the officer in front of her wasn’t returning it, instead just staring at her with one gorgeously sculpted eyebrow raised. Begrudgingly she dropped her arm, salute unreturned, and an embarrassed look on her face.

“Sir?” the title came out as more of a question than a statement like it normally would. Confusion was spreading through her brain like wildfire, this was new to her. Why was the high ranking officer, the highest she’d ever been in the presence of other than her father, not returning the mark of respect that had been drilled into her since a kid, although, given he wasn’t from around here, it may not be something he is used to. That and he probably never associates with someone that is as low of a rank as herself.   

“Perfect just the Cadet I was looking for, although I must say, not the meeting I was expecting” 

Fuck, that voice, I think I’m in love. Was the first thought that came to mind. That voice, gravely and like the richest of chocolates dossed with the slightest accent, matched the attractive man that stood before her, and hearing it oh so close to her, it made her insides melt. Her imagination definitely had not done his voice justice during any day dream that contained the handsome Colonel in front of her. Oh and how glorious those daydreams were, thinking about a particular dirty one where those huge arms of his were wrapped tightly around her, while his chest was pressed so tightly against her back had her blushing the spot.  Damn it what is it with me and crushing on the higher ups, get a grip girl! 

His words finally clicked in her head. “I’m sorry Sir, what do you mean you were looking for me?”. The confusion was most definitely evident on her face. 

The Colonel chuckled lightly, dark eyes fixated on the cadet before him. “I was made aware that the LT. Colonel was to inform the squadron of my choice tonight, is that not what happened Cadet?” 

Confusion once again hit Greyson full force. Did Sinclair know the whole time that someone had been picked. Of course he did, he said they had been informed, but according to the Colonel in front of her, he knew the exact Cadet that had been chosen. Why hadn’t he said anything to them then?.  

It was at the end of the previous thought that the Cadet deflated, maybe he had told the cadet that had been selected, but it just wasn’t her. Shame ran through her like a lead bullet, of course she wouldn't have been chosen, what Colonel in their right mine would chose a Cadet who had been swept up in a rumour that she was fucking the LT. Colonel in charge of overseeing the entirety of the training squadron just so she could make her way to top recruit. 

“Cadet? I asked you a question”. His tone was clipped. Harsh but straight to the point, and just the right amount of authority to snap the cadets attention from  being in her own thoughts to looking him dead in the eye. Before she quickly averted her gaze to stare at his boot, that alone made him smirk. Good , he thought, she knows her place. 

“I’m sorry Sir, I ummm, I got lost in my thoughts, and umm, no the, ah, the LT. Colonel did not inform us of who you had picked, Sir...” Greyson stuttered, the Colonel was quite the intimidating man up close. All broad shouldered, straight backed and cold facade. If she was being quite honest with herself, she thought the rumours of his brutality might well be true from where she was standing. The way he was watching her was like a predator waiting for his prey to make the one wrong move that would land them in his jaws. A shiver  of fear ran down her spine at the thought. 

The Colonel huffed in annoyance. “Then I suggest you spend less time in your head and more time paying attention, especially when being addressed by a senior officer, Cadet! A mistake like that will get one of your crew killed if you're not careful” 

The cadets stomach plummeted at the thought, she knew all too well what would get a fellow soldier killed, her father liked to remind her that during her weeks leading up to her enlistment. The countless horror stories that had her waking up in a cold sweat had instilled a deep fear of failure within the cadet, but she had not let that show throughout her training, least of all her father hear off it through the chain of command. 

Flustered, Greyson replied with a quick, “I’m sorry Sir, I really am”, only to be laughed at by the Colonel.

“Sorry doesn’t cut it when someone dies Cadet, I’m sure you know that all too well with what your father has done, don't let his mistakes become your own!” The final part was growled out with an anger that permeated the air. 

Greyson swallowed down her rising anger and levelled the officer in front of her with a glare. It was a well known fact amongst the instructors that mentioning her father struck a nerve within her and set her off, many a time she had been reprimanded for near miss fights from her fellow cadets pulling the dad card around her. The cadet figured that either the Colonel knew this and was trying to get a rise out of her, or just knew of her father's past indiscretions and was trying to use it to discredit her. It didn’t matter which thought she pondered more, both made her blood boil just as much. 

Trying to keep a cool demeanor around the officer in front of her was a struggle. He was smirking at her like he just had just won the lottery, all tight lipped and cocky. He had got her hook, line and sinker, she had fallen for his trap. Giving a frustrated huff the cadet looked away from the smug officer in front of her, hoping for something to grab her attention so she could dispel her anger. It seemed however, the Colonel wasn’t done just yet. 

“Yes I know all about Daddy dearest and his mistakes, Greyson. It's a wonder you even bothered to enlist with all the hatred and dishonesty that follows your name around.”. 

He knew exactly what he was doing, if this was the cadet he was going to steal away from the signal corps then he needed her to rebut him, yell at him, something. Anything that would show some hard spirit that would be needed to complete the daily brutality and challenges that would likely come from being in his team. He had heard what she was capable of, now to just see it for himself. 

“Cat got your tongue Cadet? Or are you used to being fucked over in a different kind of way by your superiors. Must be nice to have the LT. Colonel at your beck and call doing your bidding for you and getting you the points to become top cadet. Isn't that right Greyson?” The teasing lilt to his tone was seemingly lost on the cadet in front of him. He watched as waves of varying emotions crossed her face. Something akin to shame crossed first, followed closely by what he assumed was embarrassment, only to be followed by, once more, anger. Which seemed to be this cadets’ default emotion. 

Greyson had never once felt this much anger in one go, yes she knew the Colonel was trying to get a rise out of her, and mentioning her father usually did the trick. The idea that he was discrediting her based on rumours and one small sighting of something that definitely wasn’t a professional interaction with the Lt. Colonel during the assessment day somehow struck a nerve so deep she was sure that this feeling was beyond anger, in fact, she was livid. He didn’t know anything about her and he was going to insinuate that! Oh he definitely had another thing coming.

“Respectfully. Sir.” Greyson quipped in a bratty tone, “You don’t know the first thing about me, so you have no right to insinuate that I am sleeping my way to the top!” her distaste for the Colonel before her was growing by the second, “I would have thought it well below your rank to believe the rumours of jealous school girls, but i guess I was wrong. Seems like you aren’t much of a fucking Colonel at all!”. The final words of the sentence were growled out in a tone so low it would have scared her fellow cadets half to death. Her eyes were alight with emotion, her eyes turning a deep green in colour, pupils constricted. The anger was rolling off her in waves. 

“There it is, that's the cadet I had heard all about. Daddy’s little mimic”. His grin was bordering maniac, he was pushing her buttons and striking the nerves he had hoped to, it was just a matter of seeing how much further she was willing to go to defend herself and her reputation. But he knew for sure now, this was his cadet. 

Those words and that stupidly attractive grin was the last straw for the cadet. Without really processing her next move she curled her right hand into a fist and aimed directly for the underside of that chiseled jaw of his, hoping for a knockout, even if she’d face a potential discharge because of it. This man had fucked her off one too many times for her to internalise these emotions. 

The punch thrown at him probably would have knocked him out too, if he hadn’t had the years of experience chasing down criminals in Colombia. He had seen the way her body had gone taught, fist curling, before she had wound her arm back and thrown it forward towards him with such conviction and determination that would have made him proud, if he hadn’t been trying to prove a point. Her plan failed though as he caught her wrist, her fist a mere inch from its intended target. He used her wrist as leverage, while taking a step forward, and slammed her, not all that gently, into the wall behind her.

The air was knocked out of Greyson in an instant, instead of hitting her target, she had ended up pressed between the Colonels’ hard body and the wall behind her. His mouth hovered over her ear, breath hot with each passing exhale, the shiver that wracked her body was not one of fear this time. It seemed as if minutes passed by, she could feel every hard ridge of his body pressed into hers. From his strong thighs right up to his too defined pecs that were pinning her against the wall. He was so close his belt buckle was digging into her stomach. 

She released a shaky breath at the thought. This bastard of a man had pushed her to her breaking point and now held her against the wall like it was nothing. She struggled against him for a short moment, feigning an escape, but he just pushed her wrist closer to the wall and his body impossibly closer to her own. Quiet the compromising situation. 

Carrillo huffed out a laugh at the way the cadet struggled beneath him before slumping in defeat. He had her exactly where he wanted her, she had shown her hand and was now at his mercy. 

“I definitely made the right choice” he murmured against the shell of her ear, delighting in the way she let out the smallest of gasps. “I’d say congratulations, but I guess that's not needed. You're on the team Cadet” and with those final words he released her from his hold and took a step back. Noting the way she slumped against the wall without his support. He had to smirk while taking in her disheveled appearance, she looked positively wrecked. With that final thought he adjusted his uniform and disappeared down the hallway in search of the LT. Colonel, leaving a very confused and very flustered cadet in his wake