#now I wonder if native English speakers feel the same when they hear me talk lol

[leefail]

This is just a mini info dump from an Arab batfamily fan because I find Damian calling his siblings Akhi... adorable (for me as a native speaker watching a writer use Arab words) and, not painful, just... itchy, it URGES me to make a pptx with 300 slides and just? Talk about Arabic?

So... أخي, Akhi, Brother.

It's not incorrect. The word is used in the right place and delivers its intended meaning. Other Arab speakers might not find a problem with it. They'd feel odd like I did but will likely go "eh" and carry on. But I'm an Arabic enthusiast, so...

Like with every language with geographically widespread users, the Arabic tongue kind of- deviated from its roots. The language has naturally branched out into so many dialects I myself can't keep track of.

Arabs from different regions can understand each other. They use the same words but for different purposes and with different pronunciations.

The original root language that holds them all (Quranic Arabic) was simplified into an easier, standard version that is used for formal speeches and as a communication bridge (seeing that you can't, say, translate something to Arabic and say it's for all Arabs if you use a certain dialect. Because an Arabic dialect is an identity at this point, tell me somebody is Syrian, and I know them already)

Now, with the fun part.

See, no Arab calls any sibling of theirs Akhi, I myself would burst laughing if mine did.

Yakhoi يَخوي (nonstandard, everyday Arabic for o, brother) , maybe, if I'm calling a stranger from the streets or an offender I'm going to give a piece of my mind.

Or, hold your breaths, my brother is crying, and the lights are out and I NEED to use the tenderest, most loving, most adoring, most revering tone I could muster so he just knows he is loved and family. Y'know? This specific situation.

And other Arabs might just say, no, I use it when, I use it when, I don't use it, etc.

The point is, nobody will mention Akhi. Because it's a Standard Arabic word, a formal word, and a word used in translated texts and stories when a foreign character we don't consider part of us call their brother. It's weird, it's devoid of emotions, and it's like watching a robot trying to be emotional, but it's a translated text. That's what translated texts use, and it's fine.

It is fine, Standard Arabic has been used for stories so much that nobody questions its influence on a character's characterisation.

I'm not saying Standard Arabic shouldn't be used for story writing, quite the opposite, in fact. I'm just saying that if Arabic is used to represent an Arab, its usage should also consider an everyday Arab experience and manners.

Now to Damian.

Akhi is robotic. Damian's personality does allow him to fall under that category. If for his well refined manners and polite, formal speech.

But even the King wouldn't call his brother Akhi.

He'd call him by his name. For my community (and most, I'm sure) siblings are called by their names, and if we look up historic Quranic (Root) Arabic speakers, they, too, call their siblings by their name. Yes, even the Sultan.

If not by actual name, then either endearing or demeaning names.

Arabs LOVE endearing names, but they're dipped in a pool of honey I don't think Damian would like to dive in.

Talia, on the other hand, would most certainly call Damian Mama. Arab parents call their kids by their own titles. It's the ultimate expression of parental love of all times, in my opinion.

(Don't make Batman call him Papa, though. Pretty sure Damian would malfunction)

-

Well, I said all that, but watching writers include Arabic words in his vocabulary is still sweet. Tt is not even a word, but it's such an Arab thing it's my favourite.

If only I could make subtitles of everyday Arab talk and show you, their speech is heavy with, excuse my English, word softeners, it's like they're talking in a TV drama and not the real world.

Watching Damian adopting it would be interesting :D

[valeriehalla]

actual writing advice

1. Use the passive voice.

What? What are you talking about, “don’t use the passive voice”? Are you feeling okay? Who told you that? Come on, let’s you and me go to their house and beat them with golf clubs. It’s just grammar. English is full of grammar: you should go ahead and use all of it whenever you want, on account of English is the language you’re writing in.

2. Use adverbs.

Now hang on. What are you even saying to me? Don’t use adverbs? My guy, that is an entire part of speech. That’s, like—that’s gotta be at least 20% of the dictionary. I don’t know who told you not to use adverbs, but you should definitely throw them into the Columbia river.

3. There’s no such thing as “filler”.

Buddy, “filler” is what we called the episodes of Dragon Ball Z where Goku wasn’t blasting Frieza because the anime was in production before Akira Toriyama had written the part where Goku blasts Frieza. Outside of this extremely specific context, “filler” does not exist. Just because a scene wouldn’t make it into the Wikipedia synopsis of your story’s plot doesn’t mean it isn’t important to your story. This is why “plot” and “story” are different words!

4. okay, now that I’ve snared you in my trap—and I know you don’t want to hear this—but orthography actually does kind of matter

First of all, a lot of what you think of as “grammar” is actually orthography. Should I put a comma here? How do I spell this word in this context? These are questions of orthography (which is a fancy Greek word meaning “correct-writing”). In fact, most of the “grammar questions” you’ll see posted online pertain to orthography; this number probably doubles in spaces for writers specifically.

If you’re a native speaker of English, your grammar is probably flawless and unremarkable for the purposes of writing prose. Instead, orthography refers to the set rules governing spelling, punctuation, and whitespace. There are a few things you should know about orthography:

English has no single orthography. You already know spelling and punctuation differ from country to country, but did you know it can even differ from publisher to publisher? Some newspapers will set parenthetical statements apart with em dashes—like this, with no spaces—while others will use slightly shorter dashes – like this, with spaces – to name just one example.

Orthography is boring, and nobody cares about it or knows what it is. For most readers, orthography is “invisible”. Readers pay attention to the words on a page, not the paper itself; in much the same way, readers pay attention to the meaning of a text and not the orthography, which exists only to convey that meaning.

That doesn’t mean it’s not important. Actually, that means it’s of the utmost importance. Because orthography can only be invisible if it meets the reader’s expectations.

You need to learn how to format dialogue into paragraphs. You need to learn when to end a quote with a comma versus a period. You need to learn how to use apostrophes, colons and semicolons. You need to learn these things not so you can win meaningless brownie points from your English teacher for having “Good Grammar”, but so that your prose looks like other prose the reader has consumed.

If you printed a novel on purple paper, you’d have the reader wondering: why purple? Then they’d be focusing on the paper and not the words on it. And you probably don’t want that! So it goes with orthography: whenever you deviate from standard practices, you force the reader to work out in their head whether that deviation was intentional or a mistake. Too much of that can destroy the flow of reading and prevent the reader from getting immersed.

You may chafe at this idea. You may think these “rules” are confusing and arbitrary. You’re correct to think that. They’re made the fuck up! What matters is that they were made the fuck up collaboratively, by thousands of writers over hundreds of years. Whether you like it or not, you are part of that collaboration: you’re not the first person to write prose, and you can’t expect yours to be the first prose your readers have ever read.

That doesn’t mean “never break the rules”, mind you. Once you’ve gotten comfortable with English orthography, then you are free to break it as you please. Knowing what’s expected gives you the power to do unexpected things on purpose. And that’s the really cool shit.

5. You’re allowed to say the boobs were big if the story is about how big the boobs were

Nobody is saying this. Only I am brave enough to say it.

Well, bye!

[mrsrileywrites]

Hi! I read lots of your work and im SO IN LOVE!!! Like I absolutely fell so hard for papa simon 😭😭 i wanna give him a babyy! But i was wondering, how would pregnancy be like with his child. I mean bro is HUGE so his baby would probably be not only pretty big and probably weight a little bit more too than an average newborn. If its okay with you would it be possible for you to write a little story maybe add a little bit of angst? (Idk like argument about something that made the reader really sad?) but please a happy ending 🥹

Feel free to ignore if thats not your thing or just not feeling comfortable writing about it!! LOVE YOUU!! Btw sorry for any misspelling English is not my first language.

First of, as a not native English speaker, your English is perfect.

And second, thank you for your kind words, it really encourages me to keep writing and also boosts my ego 😁

You asked in such a nice and respectful way so I really want to make you happy.

Now here's the thing, I'm an adult with lots of responsibilities and sometimes adulting makes me tired, like last night when I was trying to finish this but I fell asleep and I woke up this morning to find half of my writing disappeared, it just vanished 🥲

But I'll give you this to munch on and I promise I'll finish this before the end of the week.

I hope this is what you were expecting... Enjoy 🫶

A little over 700 words.

_______________________

You stood in front of the sink of your bathroom, holding a pregnancy test on your shaky hands, two little red lines staring right back at you.

How did this happen? How would you tell him? He doesn't want kids, he made it clear from the beginning and you accepted it without a fuss, that's why you've been taking your pills diligently every day, you didn't forget one, did you?... No, you know you didn't, how did this happen?

"You okay there, love?" Simon knocks on the bathroom door and you jump in surprise, like a child that's been caught red handed.

"Y-yes Si, j-just give me a minute... I'll be right there." Your period is about three weeks late so you bought a pregnancy test, your best friends advice, it wouldn't hurt, it was just to make sure, you certainly were not expecting this.

You hid the test on the cabinet under the sink and washed your face before coming out.

It's been a week since your ob-gyn confirmed a six weeks pregnancy and you still haven't found the courage nor the right time to break the news to Simon, so when he gets a call from Price to get deployed on a long mission you fear it would be too late by the time he comes back.

One month at most he said when he kissed you goodbye almost two months ago, you are 16 weeks into your pregnancy and your bump is starting to show, which only adds to your anxiety, between the morning sickness and your hormones being all over the place you still haven't figured out how to tell him.

As you ponder how to break the news to him, you realize that a simple phone call wouldn't suffice. With him stationed on the other side of the globe, risking his life every day, you hesitate to burden him further. At the same time, you know it wouldn't be ideal for him to return home and suddenly find you waddling around with a baby bump.

So you stay quiet and whenever he calls and asks why you sound so exhausted you blame it on your job, you say you are just stressed out, and he promises he'll take care of you once he's back, he'll relieve you from the stress the way you like it, the way only he knows how to.

You are laying on the couch wearing Simon's t-shirt, stuffing yourself with your favorite ice cream and watching trash tv when you hear fumbling outside your front door before it swings open, a very rugged Simon stands in the threshold , you curse under your breath, he didn't say he was coming home the last time you talked on the phone three days ago so you stand there and look at him overly conscious of the bump hiding under his t-shir and you thank the heavens he is a big man, you think the loose fit of his T-shirt would buy you time, your ice cream long forgotten in the coffee table.

He walks towards you with long strides as he pulls his balaclava over his head running his fingers through his messy hair and you shy away, you step back and freeze, eyes wide like a deer caught in the headlights, he stops in his tracks and tilts her head, his eyebrows pinch as his eyes linger on your midsection and you know you're fucked, he noticed, how wouldn't he, and you hope and pray he'd say something, anything, but he doesn't, he turns on his heels ready to walk out.

"Simon wait!" You call for him and he stops, his hand lingers on the door knob, "I can explain, please just hear me out" your voice cracks and you wish you had been brave enough to tell him before, you know about his childhood and his trauma, you know his struggles and why he didn't want children in the first place, he trusted you and you broke his trust, you deceived him from the moment you found out you were pregnant and decided to keep it to yourself because you were too scared to trust him back.

"Explain what?" He shouts turning around and walking towards you again, your hands fly to your belly instinctively, protective. You lower your head, eyes glued to the floor, ashamed.

[spanishskulduggery]

Exciting news for me: I’m working with Spanish-speaking families now in a social work adjacent job capacity! I feel really good about my listening comprehension (as long as it’s not idioms haha), and I think my speaking will get better as I get less nervous.

I’ve been struggling with phone calls in Spanish. Do you have advice for scheduling time/place to meet up? Do people generally use words equivalent to english “meeting up” or does it get phrased differently/structurally?

I also wonder if you have any tips for improving my “r” pronunciations or learning to roll my “r”s. I have a decent approximation but it kills me sometimes ESPECIALLY with common names it’s brutal.

Last question :D I dont look like I speak Spanish and my name is very USAmerican. I’m obviously not a native speaker. And since I often speak worse when I’m nervous, I’m worried about making sure the family knows I speak spanish / understand it really well so they feel comfortable talking with me. Have you ever struggled with this sort of thing? Do you have ideas for what might be reassuring to tell them?

In my experience, the verb/word in general is reunirse con alguien [or encontrarse con alguien]

It's reflexive, so you would say ¿dónde podemos reunirnos? "where can we meet up?" [or, ¿dónde nos podemos reunir?] - or using encontrarse - same thing, just encontrarnos or nos podemos encontrar

I've found that "meeting point" or "rendezvous" is typically el punto de encuentro/reunión

...And "a meeting" with someone is often la reunión even for things like staff meetings or work meetings etc. Otherwise sometimes people say la cita which is "appointment" but also "a date" so that's not always something I'd recommend but it does make sense

Anyway in general I would be saying like ¿cuándo quieres reunirnos?

And usually it's like ¿A qué hora es más conveniente? "At what time is it most convenient?" or just qué hora; or saying ¿Cuál día te conviene? "What day works for you?"

I've found that people use convenir [with indirect objects] as "to be best for someone" or "to suit someone" or "to work for someone" in terms of being convenient. Or they use venir bien or some idiomatic form [like venir(le) de perlas is "to be really good (for someone)" or "to be great"]

-

As far as RR. I tell people the way to do it is to press your tongue to the ridge right behind your front teeth [people have said "it's the place you burn your mouth when you bite into a slice of pizza that's too hot"], and you blow air

Usually it's that Spanish-speakers put their tongues more to the top of their mouth when saying R, while English-speakers have it lower in the mouth. If you keep it up higher, you'll hear it trill more as you hold it

But in school they had us practice with estoy corriendo en el ferrocarríl a lot

-

I usually do okay unless I'm nervous, then I start sounding worse. And I just try and tell people, háblame más despacio, a veces me cuesta entender todo lo que me digan la primera vez which is "speak to me more slowly, sometimes it's hard for me to understand what people tell me the first time"

And sometimes just asking what words mean like ¿qué quieres decir? or ¿qué significa ___?

Or if I didn't hear someone right I say ¿cómo? "huh?"

Most people are understanding, and usually I can get away with saying things like puedo hablar y entender español más o menos... o sea, a veces es más, y a veces mucho menos jaja and I try and be funny

[taegimood]

Hey💗 I'm one of your readers who only re-blogs quietly because I'm too introverted (+not good at English lol) to talk with anyone, even anonymously. However, I was quite sad after reading your last post and honestly, I feel the same way about tumblr. Although I've never written on this app, the people I follow have an awfully high expectation of them. Once someone goes on a short break, the community rushes to another account, who provides them with more content. If they go on a smaller break, the same thing happens again. There were several writers I followed who went on a short break, then came back, posted wonderful works of thousands of words, but didn't get the same support as before. And this makes me sad. Personally, I follow someone or read someone's work because of their writing style and I could wait months (or even years) to read something new from them. Of course, not everyone is like this, not everyone likes to wait. It's just strange to me that so many people don't leave time for writers, whether they're away because of burnout or personal matter.

I actually visited your blog a lot and thought of you, I was just too shy to ask about you :(( I think you've made the right decision now (although I'll miss your writing very much) but mental health comes first, and if writing ever brings you joy again, just know that there will always be at least one person here waiting for your new work💌

oh nonnie :(((

it may sound silly but i got really emotional reading this.. thank you for taking the time to write it.

so many people on here don’t seem to understand the toll that running a large blog takes on writers when we’re often treated like machines and you’re exactly right; expectations are high and people are so quick to rush off to someone else and just find whoever outputs content the fastest.

i totally agree with you that personally, if it’s a blog/writer that i love, then i will gladly wait for more of their content even if it means waiting for them to return from a hiatus or a dry patch. it’s sad to me as well that so many people instead have the machine mindset when they look at writers and are okay with just moving on to whoever’s more convenient.

i’m sad that i didn’t know about you until now, but thank you for being so supportive of me, and for being willing to wait for me to find my motivation again, when or if it happens.. hearing that there’s at least one person rooting for me means more to me than you know. ❤️‍🩹

if you ever feel like interacting again, you’re more than welcome to become an emoji anon or something if you want (all of my old ones disappeared after my last hiatus 🙂‍↕️) but i always hope that my inbox can be a comfortable and welcoming place for my readers no matter the topic, even if you’re feeling shy <3

(also your english is amazing and you 100% sound like a native speaker, i literally wouldn’t have known otherwise if you hadn’t said anything lol so trust me there’s no need to be insecure abt that !!!)

but anyway.. it’s readers like you who remind me why i love to write and give me the motivation to keep trying.

so thank you. i’ll be keeping words like yours in mind. 🫂

[maednatne]

First Day to Day 4 (8/19-8/22)

I finally arrived in Sydney! I was feeling nervous at that time because I’m not used to being away from my family. I met my host family, with the host mother named Emma and her partner Albert. They have two boys, although he isn’t the boys’ father. Emma has been hosting students since 2006. She used to live in a bigger house when she was married to her ex-husband. The house had 5 rooms, so three students could stay there at the same time. However, now she has moved into this flat and recently has been hosting Japanese students.

8/19 Actually, I had dinner alone at a table on the night I arrived here. The host mother had gone outside, so her son served dinner. He was having his meal, which seemed like pasta, while sitting on the couch. I had something like tacos 🌮 in front of him. I wasn’t sure what to do and felt kind of awkward 😀 Maybe it’s just me. He speaks too quickly for me, so even though I knew his name, I only managed to ask for it. Hahaha. He seemed kind because he showed me how to eat tacos by saying, “You can wrap it like this.” And He’s often blowing his nose 🤧 The first time I met him, he was with his girlfrien. She appeared polite, despite being quite young. Then he went to his grandmother’s house, I think. I couldn’t quite hear, haha. I wonder if I’ll meet him again. To be honest, I had expected the host family to be more welcoming when I first met them. However, it turned out to be quite different. Well, I’m not dissatisfied.

8/20-21 I went to Chatswood. The town felt somewhat like downtown. Maybe. Because I am still not familiar with the area. I bought a pants for Yoga. Actually, I was invited by a man I got connected with. He often organizes events like that. I posted that I really wanna go to my home. I am feeling pretty homesick right now. He saw my post and he commented that why don’t we do yoga together? You can make friends. That’s why I decided to join this. It was a good experience. Thanks to him, I could hear about Sydney from them joining the Yoga meetup. And then one girl toured the city. She was very kind. I followed her. She also took me to some schools where I am planning to attend. After that, she invited me to exchange language. It is held in a bar. It was a really exciting experience. I could meet many people who are studying English. I talked with Colombians a lot. I felt like It was more comfortable to talk with them compared to native speakers. And I came home at 10:30. That day either, I couldn't have dinner with the family. It was my fault. Anyway, I used the bus to home. Because it seemed like the trains were stopped. When I rode the bus, I didn't use an Opal card. It was my first time so I didn't know how to ride. I was upset. So I tried to ask how to get off the bus and to pay. She was probably Chinese. She told me kindly. She helped me. When I got off the bus, she said to me “Be careful! It's so dark”. I was touched by her. The reason I was supposed to ride the bus is that people can use it instead of the train for free. For free! Amazing. I can't believe that in Japan.

I have been here only four days though. I completely understand some Japanese people who want to keep living in Sydney. Additionally, I have never seen something like homeless or beggar. That's why, there are some cities in Australia in the best 10 places to live. I realized that I like the smell of this city. I don't why. I can't explain. But it's very comfortable.

[saintly2k]

It's been a long journey so far

So hey, after a while you are hearing (or reading?) something from my blog again. "A sign of life!" you might think but oh well, who knows when my next post will be?

Well, well, well. I will try to write more now, but the reason is not that I want anyone to read this but it is more like a practice for me to train my writing skills and hone my English as you may know that I am not a native English speaker.

So, what have I been up to until now? Truth to be told, not much. I did some work on Mononoke, an Anime CMS (Content-Management-System), rewrote FoOlSlideX from the core, worked a little on my own site, and some minor stuff as well.

But my main problem until a few days ago was not my lack of motivation but rather the fact that my graphics card broke down. It stopped working for no reason after just barely a year of service! The hell? So I got a new one from a friend of mine who bought a new one not too long ago, so that was all of the money I saved until that point (around 250€).

Now you may wonder: "250€? That's all you saved???"

Well no, I saved around 500€ until that point, but I recently bought a Reel-to-Reel machine, the Akai X-200D, in perfect condition, refurbished by a professional not too long ago for around 190€. Now there are still 60€ missing. With this money, I went ahead and bought some tapes as well as cassettes for me to record and listen to.

(Video) "I heard there's a rumor going 'round There's gonna be a showdown I heard there's a rumor going 'round One of us is leaving town" (Album: "Eric Woolfson Sings The Alan Parsons Project That Never Was", Track: "Rumor Going Round" by Eric Woolfson)

I spent my time recording some tracks from Discs onto this tape. At that time, I was a little stupid and recorded it on the 3-3/4 IPS (Inches Per Second) speed, so in the end it sounded not as glamorous as the other tape you can see there, which I recorded on 7-1/2 IPS, that simply sounds magnificent!

I should do a blog post about Eric Woolfson, Alan Parsons and how their music quite literally changed my life as well. Anybody should remind me of that (if somebody reads this of course).

Then I moved some time ago and got a new room. It is quite small now, but I feel really comfortable now. I got my small TV on the same white cupboard along with the Akai, all of the components of my Hi-fi system.

I could do a post about this as well! Why not, I guess? Maybe you can share yours as well :D (At least if you got one. If you don't, you should get one!).

So well, I don't know what to talk anymore in this post. All I wanted to do is to tell you that "Hey, I'm alive! I made it out of the hospital!", nothing more.

Until then!

Best regards and stay healthy, Selim!

[imagineryupfuckedworld]

Different kind of Company #4

Here is part 4. I hope you enjoy reading it. I wanted to remind that this is pure fiction and not everything is after the canon timeline. Some things are changed, also I am not a native english speaker, so please respect that and have that in mind when you're reading this. Please enjoy! Bonnie.....did not lay there anymore where he was supposed to lay. He..just...vanished. Poff. Just like that. The boys look as confused as you do. Where was the stuffed toy? It should be there. Laying unmovable because a toy can't walk. Your thoughts raced. Your suspicion getting more and more confirmed. If Bonnie wasn't a real monster, he would have not vanished and would have been stepped on. But that is not the case. You hastily looked around. Your eyes scanning the area for the possible pink, glowing eyes that you always stare at, at night. The ones, that made your breath hitch the first time you saw it. You couldn't find them. Is he playing? Is he hiding himself to take them into the darkness? The thoughts in your young mind are running wild. Your imagination begun to go crazy. The Boys also begun to search. You vaguely registered how one of them talks to you, screaming if you're doing this. Shaking you at your shoulders but your mind couldn't focus on him. All that came to halt when you guys heard a voice “Well well well, it seems like you lost that, little miss.” your eyes slowly looked to the source of that new deep voice. This was clearly a voice that doesn't suit a child. Out of the shadow came a man, much taller than you. Taller than your dad but lean, almost skinny. He had a weird Uniform. Not one that a waiter would wear. Maybe the manager? It was too dark to clearly see him. Your first instinct was, to look at his eyes. Searching for a hint of pink but there wasn't. You released your breath silently which you had been holding out of fear of making a noise. Whoever this was, this wasn't Bonnie. So you think and still. There was an unsettling feeling deep in your gut. A feeling you know too well. It was the same feeling you got when your brother and his friends are around, looking at you. It was your gut screaming to run. Run far and fast. Very fast. But you don't know why? This man seems nice, nice enough to give you back Bonnie who was now back safe in your arms. The tall man smiled at you and the boys. “Did you all get lost?” He asked kindly. A warm tone and a nice smile on his fave. So why did your gut still scream to run. The boys seemed like they have overcome their surprise and shook their head. “No, we just searched for her. We're going now!” your brother took you by the arm, dragging you out behind him. Your eyes are still glued to the weird man who was waving you goodbye. You raised your hand meekly and waved back before your brother yanked again. “Come one, dipshit. Your luck there was an adult.” you didn't really register his hissing when you stepped through the big double door. The light of the dinning hall blending you. You squinted your eyes and tried not to trip while you getting dragged behind. Your brothers doesn't even bother to look if you're okay. He just keeps going till you're both by your parents who where engrossed in their talk with some of the other parents. Your father noticed that you are now there, taking his son an his lap and including him while you were left standing there. Not knowing what to do. Like always. You turned around, looking back at the door. You couldn't get the man out of your mind. The little legs of yours begun to move. Like a machine, they kept walking until you were right in front of a waitress. You tapped her softly, waiting patiently so that you wouldn't be rude. “What can I do for you, sweetie?” Her voice was nice, much kinder than the man. You told her about that man, asking if he was the manager. The young woman looked at you questioningly. She never heard of that man before. Thinking it was your imagination, she chuckled lightly and patted your head. Telling you, that you must have imagine that and went back to work, leaving you there. Completely confused.

There....was no such man who worked there? You wanted to run after her, asking her more about that when your parents called you and your sister so you could go. You didn't even realized how late it got. You were longer inside that hallway than you thought. You trotted slowly over, still pondering over that man. The whole ride and even while you had dinner. Your brain couldn't leave that alone. You decided to talk to your brother to confirm that you weren't imagining things. You should have known that this wouldn't end well. “What do you want, dipshit?” You resisted to roll your eyes and ignored him calling you that. “You saw that weird man too, right?” A few seconds went by. “Did you hit your head or somethin'? There was no one.” “Wha-? You even said I was lucky that an Adult was there!” “Dunno what you talkin' 'bout.” “You're lying! Why? I just wanted to confirm something.” “I am not lying! You're just dumb!” “Can you stop insulting me please!” “Or what?” you don't know what it was. If it was the insults he always throws at you. Maybe it was the shit eating grin he wore. You don't know but you shoved him roughly. “I am going to fucking kill you!” Your brother looked at you dumbfounded. You were surprised equally. It was something fairly new for you to fight back but to even resolve to physical contact? That never happened. You did never do that because you know, you would get punished no matter what. So your brother always used it, that you wouldn't fight back. No wonder, he was surprised but the surprise didn't hold long. “How dare you, you little shit?!” He shoved you back, right into a wall. Your back begun to hurt but the anger was bigger. “I said stop it!” You swung your fist. The very first time you used violence. The very first time you spilled blood. Your little fist connected with his nose. Hard. It seemed like the adrenalin in your body gave you enough strength to broke your brothers nose. Both your eyes went wide. Tears formed into his. He grinded his teeths to hold back the sobs. He isn't a crybaby unlike you. But that crybaby has broken his nose. You were frozen. Your mind registering what you did. The funny thing is, you are not scared of punishment. You do not feel bad for your brother. No, the opposite. You feel giddy. It was weird. You feel so excited at the sight of the blood gushing out of his nose. Your eyes slowly look down onto your fist, then back to your brother. Is this, how he always feels? This excitement? It was.....a pleasant feeling. You were awoken from your deluded state when you hear the voice of your mother. Your brother quickly got up and you run out of the room. Hiding behind the door, to hear if you were in trouble. You mother shrieked when she saw her beloved son bleeding. Asking, if he was okay. Instead of snitching your brother insisted that he was okay and just ran into a wall. It seems like the humiliation he felt from getting punched by his little sister is bigger than his desire for her to punished. You felt how a grin was crawling onto your lips but you tried to hide it very fast. What you did not notice were the pink eyes who seemed to be watching you intensely.

[dancingaliensfics]

♡My Prison Pen Pal♡

Helmut Zemo x reader

Word count: 1,802

Warnings: swearing, mentions of prison and crimes and slight angst to do with his family

A/N: its finally here! I havent writen a fic in a long time so hopefully you guys like this! I tried to avoid using idioms and things like that but message me if you need anything explained or reworded as I know most people aren't native English speakers

@sorcerersofnyc

♡♡♡

His first letter came during the series finale of your favourite show. A rather inconvenient moment, you thought, so it stayed on the welcome mat until you passed through the hall on your way to bed. Picking it up, you figured you'd skim the first few lines then finish it and write a reply before work. Instead, you found yourself writing and rewriting a reply through the night. Somehow this man had managed to enthrall you with only a letter. Maybe it was the way he wrote as if he was some elegant poet whose sonnets would one day be hailed as classics. How he managed to be open and expressive, exuding a welcoming aura, and yet still seeming mysterious. Or perhaps it was simply fated by the stars that Helmut Zemo would capture your heart.

You waited anxiously for his second letter to arrive. After sending the first, you hadn't cared whether you got a response, the whole thing seemed like a bad idea to you. But your mother was insistent that you needed to meet new people and this way you wouldn't need to worry about awkward face to face conversations. Sending the first letter felt like any other chore you do in the day, done with much effort and resignment but forgotten within minutes. But the second? It felt like the most important thing you'd done in a long time. You'd even bought a first class stamp (not that it makes a difference).

You wanted to know more about this intriguing man. No, supervillain. Charged with international terrorism. Jesus christ what the fuck was wrong with you? Were you really falling in love with a supervillain after one letter? But he didn't seem evil to you. He wrote eloquently, somehow his simple and brief description of his day (he'd started reading a new psychology book, you'd have to send him some recommendations) sounded fascinating in his words.

Over time, you started to notice small things about Helmut. The way he crossed his t's, how he signed his name, but mainly that there was a romanticism to his writing. From the way he described his home, his wife, his son to his recipes for Sokovian dishes with small notes and doodles (your favourite was his shepherd's pie recipe where he helpfully noted his mother's assertion that you should always add more than you think you need). It was becoming clear to you that he wasn't the stoic and vengeful baron you expected but rather a soft, lonely and endearingly weird man who you couldn't imagine plotting to destroy the Avengers. Whilst it was his mystery that first captivated you, it was his sweet and sometimes awkward personality that convinced you to keep writing.

It took a while for Helmut to tell you about his family. You had heard on the news back when he first arrested about his motive, so you were interested to hear his perspective on his crimes. But that wasn't what you got. Instead, he told you about when he and his father used to play football when he was young and how they would play a match every time he visited, with Helmut playing against his father and son, who always wanted to play with grandfather. He told you of the songs his wife used to sing, how her voice was always loud and shaky and after years of singing somewhere over the rainbow she would still forget the lyrics and invent her own. He told you how his son was the best pianist he had ever heard. How he could play the greatest rendition of amazing grace and that he had just learnt the theme from swan lake. That he had been excited to practice it on his grandfathers grand piano the day Ultron attacked.

There was something so human about this man. His love for his family, his loss and grief, his plan to avenge his family, it was all so tragic and yet here he was sending you drawings of the flowers from his garden growing up. You wanted to hug him and yet sometimes you felt he wouldn't need it, wouldn't want it. You were wrong.

Helmut Zemo missed his family. He told you so in one of his most recent letters. He missed holding his son, brushing his wife's hair, going for long drives, waking up at 2am to comfort his son, early morning trips to the shops, cleaning up after dinner, helping with homework. Everything he listed seemed so trivial, so meaningless in the grand scheme of life and yet the memories meant so much to him.

You realised then you had never pitied him before. Not that he wasn't deserving of it, just that he didn't seem to need it. But overtime you realised that what Helmut had really needed wasn't revenge or to make a world free from superhumans, it was someone to talk to. Someone to trust. Someone who would understand his pain and not judge it. Perhaps, you thought to yourself, you could be that person.

Fuck.

You couldn't think of how to cope with this. No one you knew had ever mentioned falling in love with a criminal through letters. And as hard as you tried you hadn't been able to find a single romcom with this plot line. You couldn't tell him. You imagined with his seemingly fragile state of mind receiving from basically a stranger professing their love would at best cause him to ghost you. Especially after he confided in you, shared his thoughts and memories.

So instead you continued as normal. You sent him pressed flowers and pictures of your favourite places. Eventually, he asked what looked like, and you spent an hour trying to decide whether you should send a picture of yourself or to just vaguely describe your features. After deciding to send a picture of yourself on holiday a few months before the blip, you found yourself wondering what he'd do with it. Would he throw it away as soon as he got the letter or would he keep it, tuck it away in some book to look at whilst thinking of you?

You also found yourself wondering what he looked like in the real world. You had found pictures of him online, but they didn't feel real. He was never rarely happy. The pictures pre Ultron were clearly taken by paparazzi, so you weren't surprised he rarely looked anything other than annoyed. There were a few though, ones with his wife and son, where he clearly hadn't noticed, and some from when he was much younger and seemed to enjoy the attention. Then were those taken after his arrest.

And so you continued to wonder he looked like. How he looked in the morning, with flowers in his hair or in summer with the sun lighting his face. You wondered what his hair looked like wet, if he ever scrunched his nose in disgust. You wondered what his smile was like.

Over time, you told him more about yourself. The stress of returning home after the blip to no job, no house and your friends 5 years older. Your ex was married with kids and your sister had moved abroad. It was as if you blinked and your whole life had changed. You mentioned how it was your mum who had suggested getting a pen pal, so you could talk to someone new, who was living a different life to you, although she had meant someone in a different country not jail. Since coming back you'd been isolated and stressed with starting a new job, recovering lost information and personal belongings and moving house, so you had thought it might be good to speak to someone who didn't know you, who couldn't judge you. You told Helmut how it had been good, how writing to him had helped you, how he had helped you more than he could ever know.

No, that sounded creepy. How you appreciated his letters.

Too formal. How you hadn't expected to become his friend, but you were glad to be able to say you were.

Helmut was comforting. You knew in your head that your meeting on Friday was nothing to worry about but seeing him say it felt so reassuring. Each one of his letters made you feel relaxed, feel safe. You wanted to make him feel the same. So, as a way to repay his kindness you had told him that no matter what happened, he could always trust you. And it was true. You couldn't imagine a world where you wouldn't do anything for Helmut and although you knew he would never need it, you still wanted him to know you would always care about him, even if no one else did.

Writing to him had become as easy as talking to someone you'd known all your life. You had fallen into an easy routine, you knew when to expect his letters and you knew when you'd send a reply. The routine felt so natural that you even knew what the envelope would look like, always the same off-white with a square edged flap. The address was always the same too. Except on his last letter. Which was strange.

At first, you thought Helmut had been moved to a different prison but after frantically typing the address into Google Maps you realised it was not a prison. Fuck you had no idea what it was, but it wasn't a prison. It also wasn't in Germany.

You sat still, staring at the unopened letter for a few minutes.

You looked up at the door. You thought you heard someone knock. The post had already come and you weren't expecting people. Hell, there wasn't anyone other than your parents who would visit anyway and they would have called first. Now you were sat still, staring at the front door.

"I know you're in there, the lights are on."

It was as if you were a marionette, being moved by some strange force that was slowly pulling you out of your seat and towards the door. You didn't even register that you moved until you felt the door handle on your fingertips. The cold metal caused you to stop, as if broken out of a trance. There was a sudden realisation that if you opened the door your life would never be the same. It was sickening, a mixture of dread and excitement; it reminded you of the moment before a roller coaster drops. You repeated that thought in your head. "Your life would never be the same". Your life hadn't been the same in almost a year. What would be the harm in one more big change. So you did it. You opened the door.

His smile was beautiful.

[shunkani]

Chapter 132 Levi/Hange Analysis

Summary: An attempt to explain the sentence in chapter 132

Levi: I see your one sided love with Titans still goes unrequited, four-eyes.

Hange: ...We’ll be getting along soon enough.　（…すぐに仲良くなるさ）

Disclaimer: this is just interpretation and not meant to be taken as official proof of romance between Levi and Hange in Attack on Titan. This is theory and nothing else. I’ve read multiple tweets and essays to compile my own thoughts.

I personally do not have any qualms with other ships, and this essay doesn’t discredit other Hange or Levi CP’s. Also, sorry but this essay has no pictures. 

Lesson_____

A quick Japanese lesson (and language comprehension); I will try to make it painless. I make no assumption on the reader’s Japanese level/English grammar understanding and will be talking about it as is.

When は is combined with another particle, it puts emphasis in a way such as English has intonation. Since Japanese does not stress tone (like how one says the words sarcastically/meaningfully/sadly/cheekily) it uses particles to do this job.

So, when Levi says, “相変わらず巨人とは片思いのままだったなクソメガネ“

It means literally, “As always, still an unrequited love with Titans, four-eyes.”

Naturally, “Your love for Titans is one-sided, as usual, four-eyes.”

In Japanese, using には or とは creates a third, invisible option that is outside of the realm of the sentence.

When you use に or と or even は by itself, it creates a one dimensional statement. When used with other particles combined with は it creates another, outside dimension to the sentence. A third suggestion or comparison. は can be used as a comparative or stress particle as well as a topic marker.

quick example.

I didn’t go to the library with him. ->彼と図書館に行かなかった.（ Forward statement. It is as it is. ）

I didn’t go to the library with him. ->彼とは図書館に行かなかった （Implying I went there with someone else, but not him. ）

Just like you’d expect, English speakers understand the implications of stressing “him.” Just as Japanese speakers understand the implications of とは etc. If we stressed library(図書館には）instead of “boy” (彼とは）then it’s implication is that we didn’t go to the library with him, but maybe somewhere else. I hope this is clear. 

____

Okay, on with the analyses. Just a note again, but I’ve naturalized any Japanese so that it’s not literal, but the meaning is the same so it’s easier to comprehend for native English speakers. I’ve changed “I” to “we” considering I formatted to fit essays.

From  ストリキーネさん’s essay

Like others have said, Levi’s words feel like his true confession. Whether it’s romantic or not, it’s up in the air, but while making small talk and commenting about his long time comrade in arms, it seems like this comment is loaded with unlabeled feelings, like “You gross me out, but I feel something special for you and I get you.”

It feels natural to say “You still have unrequited love for Titans.” right after the banter of Hange and Pieck’s exchange.  {note: 巨人に片思いのままだな is using に here, not とは, so it feels natural to say に）

So why did he use “とは” and not ”に”？

If there’s official announcement that say’s there’s no meaning to it, or that it’ll be corrected in the official volume, then this sentence will be meaningless. But if it’s intentional or even unconscious decision, we get the impression that he is recalling a third person (”me” ie Levi) among Hange and the Titans. 

 Moreover, hearing “four eyes” was unexpected and we can only imagine it was surprising for Hange too. Since we might have never expected that we’d hear “four eyes” in the original manga again, it’s perplexing, but feels filled with something like nostalgia. 

With Hange taking over as commander and the world rapidly changing, we get the feeling that there’s a distance between them, at least from what is shown to us from the story. 

Because of this short exchange about Titans, all at once we are brought back to “An eccentric, Titan-loving section commander,” and “Captain who’s fond of four-eyes,” and it’s moving. 

There’s a little pause (note: talking about the “...” before Hange starts talking) at the end of Levi’s lines and the start of Hange’s dialogue. One wonders if it couldn’t be a mix between surprise and relief on Hange’s end. 

Also, as many others have said, Levi is answering Hange’s “I’d prefer if we live here together,” from the forest, to the best that he can. There was no reason to look back at that scene in relation to this because Levi seemed to have brushed off Hange’s shocking statement, but since everyone was referencing that scene, a second re-examination was in order. (Note, the author actually said something a little more personal, so I condensed it to match a more essay-like statement)

Levi could have been surprised.

Someone who he’s known for a long time, and supported each other, and can admit that (Hange) can be troublesome sometimes, but also they hit it off well, yet each of their own responsibilities have become heavier and the world is in this state... in a situation like this, when suddenly alone together in a quiet forest, he might think Hange has stopped thinking if seriously suggesting to run away and saying things like “let’s live together.”

Under circumstances like this, if it were us, we’d likely want to do it, but remember we have responsibilities, maybe we don’t know what the other person feels, perhaps we’d rather we never heard it, so we pretend not to. In Levi’s case, perhaps pretend to sleep (pretending to not be able to hear it) or when he wakes up, change the subject completely.  

It’s unlikely that Levi could give an answer on the spot, and would want time to figure it out. 

(There’s more to the essay but it’s thoughts on relationships between people and some other things that don’t apply to the quote)

ーーーーー

Notes concluded from various twitter surfing:

Many JP fans think Levi’s statement alluded to the forest scene. It’s like his clumsy answer to Hange’s proposal, since he didn’t give a direct answer. Actually the essay above felt his answer was cold and ignored Hange. But Hange doesn’t seem displeased about it. 

As many have said, Hange and Levi are definitely “adults” in this world. They both understand it’s not feasible to do the things they want to do, because their duties supersede that. Hange carries the immense duty of commander, and both hold the responsibility to stop Eren or fight for humanity as a whole. 

It’s rather evident to me, even as an ordinary reader, that Levi did not want Hange to go. In fact, Hange says, 行かせて, “let me go.” and anticipated Levi would try to stop Hange. Mind you, it’s not “release me” but “I have to do this, so don’t stop me.” It took him three panels, focused on his dead-like eyes to finally say “Dedicate your heart,” something he’s apparently never said before. To me, “Dedicate your heart” is a self-sacrificing quote when applied to the Survey Corps. Pretty much “go in bravely, and don’t expect to come back.” Levi is a “Live and come back’ type. The strange thing is that Levi puts his hand on Hange and says it.. in Hange’s place..? It’s a salute before battle, but here it feels like a gentle sentence. Why it was delivered that way? I hope that Isayama will answer these questions in future interviews. 

＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿

Another thing, Levi says みててくれ to Hange, a now deceased person. Levi has never asked anything from the dead. He’s mentioned fulfilling his promise to Erwin about killing Zeke, but some have found it strange for Levi to ask Hange to “Watch me (kill Zeke.”) (edit: the point is that Levi asked Hange to keep watching him, so it seems that his promises and goals may have changed)

One user said something pretty sad. “For Levi, I think Hange is treated as a MIA. Even if there’s no chance of survival, if Levi looks at Hange’s death, Hange has ended for him right there. So since Hange hasn’t ended, he said “ watch out for me.” That’s the reason why Levi, who’s looked at dead soldiers in the eye, didn’t look at Hange.”

It’s simply, Levi didn’t say “Rest in peace,” or “Goodnight.” but “See ya, Hange. Keep looking out for me.” 

＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿

Going back to the quote about Titans, the summary is, that in Japanese, Levi’s speech seems incredibly nuanced because he uses language that suggests that Hange and him have come to a mutual feeling, and it’s simply by stating “with Titans” (but there’s a mutual love with me). That’s why the above essay questions if this isn’t a misprint or mistake, or perhaps it’s nothing at all. (I want to point out, that one user suggested it could refer to Eren, but it seems unlikely) 

This is his “answer.” And Hange says...”...We’ll get along soon enough.” 

There’s a “...” before Hange says that, indicating a pause, whether out of surprise by being called “four-eyes”, or carefully thinking on how to respond to “とは” 

Some other notes before I close this up, I thought this was a nice thought on LeviHan:

Hange was introduced while talking and having contact with Levi and Hange exited while talking and having contact with Levi. Really, Hange’s story started and ended with Levi. 

＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿

I apologize if this seems everywhere, I’m not particularly fond of writing, but for Hange’s last chapter, I feel like English speakers should get in on what Japanese levihan fans were saying. 

終わり

[mywritingonlyfans]

I don’t want to post it on my site simply because I’ve never written before (especially in English) and I’m too shy 👉🏻👈🏻🥺 but i feel like i should show it to someone. thanks to tumblr for anonymity. I just said that I'm really worried if I'm bothering you with this

Well, in general, that's it. I hope you really don't mind

he remembers the first time he saw her.  and how his brain immediately stopped working properly.

he randomly craved coffee that day. he didn't really like this drink until that day.

in the next building from where he lived there was a coffee shop and that was where thomas headed.

a neon sign on the street, a garland of light bulbs, a couple of tables and chairs to relax and enjoy a drink. everything would be fine if not for the music from the speaker. "damn, this is led zeppelin" - he thought to himself : "I already like this place". but going inside thomas liked it even more. he liked it so much that he froze in the aisle, unable to take his eyes off the barista.

- good afternoon, what would u like to drink? - it seems Thomas did not even hear the question and continued to examine the girl opposite him, he was so fascinated by her - mister, are you okay?

- oh, yes ... yes, of course, I'm sorry - it seems he is already redder than a tomato

- what'll it be?

- um .. maybe ... I want - "you" thought the guitarist to himself, but of course he didn't voice it - I don't know what I want - sighed sadly

- well, in that case, let me help you with the choice - it seems her eyes sparkled even brighter. damn this girl really loves her job

- it would be nice - after a couple of questions, the girl began to flutter around the coffee machine.

all her movements were so easy and so ... beautiful. just like her. dark hair, almost black. loose clothes in which she looked even smaller than she was.  "she is tiny. she's up to my shoulder... OK, maybe a little bit higher... or not" . in any case, it doesn't matter, unlike the fact that from the moment he saw her, this girl did not leave Thomas's head for more than a minute. he thought about her all the time. when he fell asleep, when he woke up, when he ate and even when he was working on new music.

from day to day he came to the coffee shop  in the morning for a cappuccino with  a little bit of caramel syrup (I think he would like it) . the barista offered him this drink when he first went into a coffee shop and did not know what to take and now he is ready to drink only it until the end of his days. on the days when he had to go to the studio, he bought coffee for the whole band, simply because "if you don't want to introduce us to the thief of your heart, then at least bring us  coffee from her".  the point was that thomas didn't know her either. not even her name. nothing. all he knew was that she works in a coffee shop and she is about his age. and also that her handwriting is beautiful. when the guitarist took coffee for the whole group, she wrote on each cup what was inside.

they never talked about anything. after a couple of visits, the girl already knew Thomas's order by heart. so every time he quietly entered, greeted from the doorway and said the number of drinks and sat down at a table waiting for his order. he quietly watched every movement of the girl, paid, thanked and left as quietly as he came.

why didn't they talk? they both wondered this question. at first they boyh were too shy, and afterwards silence became a habit. and it became even more difficult to speak first.

almost two months have passed since their first meeting. Thomas stood near the coffee shop, smoked and talked to victoria on the phone.

- fuck! ..yes, apparently I fell in love! I have a crush! I'm smitten by a girl! yes, I'm!..maybe... I do not know! leave me alone vic, please! - thomas was fed up with it. he was angry with himself and his lack of confidence, and this conversation did not help, especially at half past seven in the morning

- did you ask her out? damn, thomas! do you even know her name? - the last long drag and he threw the cigarette  into the trash can

- she is fucking perfect, gorgeous, breathtaking and she's doing the best coffee in the world and she is not interested in me in this regard. end of the conversation! - he ran his hand over his face and ruffled his blond hair.

- how she can not being interested in you? have you even tried to talk to her?

- OK vic, I'm done, see you soon

thomas pushed  the red icon on his phone and entered the coffee shop, without even thinking that the girl  behind the counter heard what was happening on the street.

- good morning.  four please - he sat down at the table - she left her hair down  today, looks good ... nah, perfect on her. he thought about the way she smiles every time when she sees him. although he realizes that she is only smiling at him because he is her customer... damn, he seems to be in serious trouble.

- are you okay? you look a bit...

- t-tired? - did she just...spoke to me? -  yes, could not sleep all night

- coffee does not replace sleep, but I hope it will help you

- me too, dolcezza - she's so cute when she blushes. it seems he fell in love even more, if it possible

the guitarist paid, took his four cups of coffee and headed for the door

- thanks, bellezza - thomas raggi, where did you suddenly get so much courage to call her like that? TWICE!? but still not enough courage. he thought to himself

Thomas gave the stand with signed cups  to Damiano, who was sitting in the front seat

- OK,  that's yours - the singer handed the cup to victoria who was sitting in the back of the car with guitarist - ethan, your coffee, and ... O LORD, FOR GOD'S SAKE! THOMAS YOU FINALLY DID IT !

the blond guy looked up sharply from the phone

- What did I....?

- LOOK! - damiano interrupted thomas and handed him the cup. there was complete silence in the car. the guitarist couldn't take his eyes off the writing on the cup of his caramel cappuccino, and the band couldn't take their eyes off his shocked face. there was a phone number written in neat handwriting

- that's might be her phone number ... did she..?. SHE GAVE ME HER FUCKING PHONE NUMBER!!!

thomas would not be thomas if he called or texted  her. at the end of the working day he just came  to a coffee shop with a neon sign.

- good evening - without looking up from work the girl began - what would you... - she finally turned towards the guy standing awkwardly near the door - oh, hi - she looked down and blushed a little. it seems he should have contacted her  during the day

- I'm sorry I didn't text you, I ...

- no, it's okay, I just misunderstood you, I'm sorry, I - the girl wanted to continue, she was interrupted by  thomas's  nervous giggle

- no, don't apologize - he came closer to the counter - I really wanted to text to you .. and offer to take a walk after work .. and find out your name .. from the very first day when I came here -  the guitarist babble quickly, but at the same time with slight pauses between sentences.  his gaze  time traveled from the barista's face to some random item in a coffee shop all the, which could not but make the girl smile

- I'm y/n

By the way, I apologize for the mistakes, as you already understood, English is not my native language

THAT'S SO FUCKING ADORABLE I'M FUCKING IN LOVE WITH IT OMG pls nervous/anxious Thomas is a thing and I love it!!! Pls get your girl, siiiir!!!! Thanks for that, you're amazing!!

- and i don't mind at all, i love reading it!

[omg-im-such-a-masochist]

Not Everything Is What It Seems

Prompt: Y/N finds herself in a quite scary scenario with a stranger(is he tho?) Samoan in her bedroom (I know it’s a shitty preview that I just gave but I don’t wanna ruin the story ok?! Hahaha)

Word count: I honestly lost the count,but it’s long-ish

Pairing: Roman Reigns/Reader

Warnings:+18,smut,consensual non-consensual,name calling,light bondage,slight degradation and slight chocking,oral male(receiving),oral female (receiving).I think that’s it??!!

Notes: Ok,so I’m really nervous about posting this! It’s my first ever fanfic so please be nice to me??! Also I just wanna put it out there that I’m not a English native speaker so I apologize in advance for any misspelling also my writing English is a little rusty so you know,give your girl sometime to adjust hahahaha.I love reading the amazing fanfics about Roman that some of the lovely ladies around here write and I thought with myself “why not,right?!” Even tho I know that my writing will NEVER be as good as theirs,but you know I was bored and had the scenario on my mind for a while now,so here you go and I really hope you can enjoy it!😘

I woke up to the strange feeling of something heavy around my hips.As my brain started to slowly get off from it’s slumber I started to search for whatever had disturbed my sleep,the bedroom was still dark and the only lighting source came from the digital watch at the night stand.

“1:44 a.m.” I sighed “You have got to be kidding me!”. I slowly moved my hand to turn on the bedside lamp so I could have some light in the bedroom,when I notice that something was restricting my moves.”What the hell?!” I thought to myself. I started to tug at my arms when I notice they were bound to the headboard.”Oh God please let this be a nightmare!” I silently prayed to whom ever was listening.Then suddenly I notice a large manly figure seated on a chair near my bedroom door.”I knew I should’ve not let Amber tell me all about those freaking shadow man stories she saw on the intern..” My train of thoughts stopped when I saw that figure get up from the chair,and slowly but firmly,walk towards my bedside lamp..

*Flick*

“You know,you got me scared for a moment there,I was beginning to think that I had put it too much chloroform on the rag.”

My eyes were still adjusting to the light so I heard him before I could see him,and when my eyes finally found the large Samoan man owner of that deep voice,my brain got numb and my jaw dropped.

“What the actual fuck are you doing here?Why did you tied me to the bed? Are you going to kill me? You son of a bitch!I knew I should never have talked to you,shouldn’t have trusted you!Everybody told me you were a sick pervert but this??”I yelled.Before I could continue,one of his large hands covered my mouth and he leaned in so his voice was just a whisper.

“Now you listen to me Y/N,and you listen very carefully.I let you have your little fury attack but now that’s enough! I don’t take shit from no one,so you better watch your mouth and choose your words very well ‘cuz you might regret them!”He let out a dark low growl that gave me goosebumps.

“The first time I laid eyes on you,the very first thing that caught my attention were your lips.Lightly stained with a beautiful cherry red color”.He removed the hand that was covering my mouth,and started to stroke my lips with his thumb.”You looked so beautifully innocent,so sweet...but at the same time there was this mischievous sparkle in your eyes,that gave a glimpse of your true colors.The woman every men wants..The sweet innocent little angel on the outside,”He stopped caressing my lips,and placed his fingers around my neck,applying just enough pressure to make me feel dizzy.”But the the most dirty,filthy,useless little fuck toy on the inside”. He released the pressure around my throat so I could breathe properly,but he continued to hold my neck up to prevent me from looking down.

“Aren’t you baby? Tell me,if you aren’t my sweet little fuck toy?!.”My eyes started to tear up,given the primal fear I was feeling.”What’s the matter baby girl?Are you gonna cry?Aww my poor innocent girl.”He chuckled.”Don’t worry baby, I will fuck that innocence out of you,and after I’m done,you will thank me!”He got up from the bed,went to my beauty vanity and reached for the top drawer where I stored my false lashes,eyelash glue and...Oh no,the scissors!

“Please,please don’t do this to me..”.My voice was just a faint whisper as the tears now begin to run down my cheeks.”If you let me go I promise you I won’t even press charges,just please let me go..If you need money I’ll give it to you,just please I beg you!Don’t to this to me,please don’t kill me..please...”I could see the cloth scissors on his hand.When he reached the bedside again he dropped to his knees and leaned his face to mine.

“Kill you? Oh no baby,I could never kill you! I’m just taking what is mine.” And with that he got up and cut my baby doll off leaving me naked on the bed.”So fucking gorgeous!You’re so much better than I have imagined!” With that he roughly kissed my lips,but when I didn’t open my mouth to let his tongue slip through,he stopped his actions pull my hair hard enough to make me look up towards his gaze and said.

“We can do this your way or my way baby girl...my way we both get fun,your way only I get the fun.Either way this IS going to happen.”That’s when I notice he had already stripped his clothes,leaving on only his boxer briefs.”Wether you want it or not...now just to prove my point..”He pushed down his briefs just enough so his dick could spring free.*Oh my god he’s huge!There’s no ways in hell he’s gonna* My thoughts got cut off when I felt the grip in my hair tighten and him bring my head down towards his cock,the action surprised me,making me gasp giving him the opportunity he needed to slide his cock inside my mouth.”C’mon baby girl,that’s it.Take everything baby..Oh fuck,so fucking good”.Being restrained to the bed and having his hand around my hair with a ferocious grip pushing me down towards his cock made me feel powerless,like there wasn’t much I could do,and I was too tired to fight him back so I just gave in,and when I did he suddenly stopped and forced me to look at him.

“So we’re doing this my way then huh?”He chuckled.”Good,that’s what I had planned from the beginning.”

He let go of my hair and went to the foot of the bed,kneeled down and started to kiss my inner thighs.

“You know how long I’ve been waiting for this?Do you know how many times I have jack off thinking about this moment? Do you know how many times I came on my hand wishing it was your pussy instead?”.He locked eyes with me while his hand reached to my pussy and he started to slowly rub my clit in gentle but firm circles,just applying the perfect amount of pressure on it.”Do you know baby how many times I’ve imagined,what it would be like having you scream my name?Do you know..how many times I wondered what do you taste like..”And with that he buried his head between my legs.His tongue worked on my pussy like some kind of evil black magic,so good,so insanely good...I’ve had my fare share of partners but no one ever ate me out like that man was doing.And for a moment I forgot all he had done to me,the fear he made me feel and I just gave in to the pleasure.

“Oh please...please just fuck me..” I moaned,in a voice so rough with lust that it didn’t even sounded like my own.”Please I need you inside of me,I need your cock stretching me out,please I beg you..” I didn’t even felt that his tongue had stopped working on me,or that he was now kneeled between my thighs.”Please I need..” That’s when I felt the hard deep thrust he gave and oh my,he entered me so harshly,and I could feel him so deep that I honestly thought I was going to pass out.

“Fuck!You’re so fucking tight,I can’t even move”.He said,his face expression of pure bliss and pleasure that I could only stare at him in awe.

“Just so perfectly wet,fuck!”.As he continued to praise how good I felt around him,his eyes were glued to the vision of his cock disappearing inside my pussy.

“Harder,please”.I begged.

“I’m not gonna last much longer baby girl if I go harder,and I wanna savor this moment,I’ve waited for so long after all!”He gave me one of his lazy smiles and I knew that I would cum at any minute now.

“I’m begging you,please just fuck me harder.I need it! Just ruin me please!” I whimpered.

“Fuck” He growled. “I want you to scream my name when you cum,do you hear me?!”He yelled

“Yes,I will!Just please fuck me harder.”With that his grip on my hips became so vigorous that I knew they would be bruised up by morning.He fucked me so hard,so deep and so rough that the only thing I could do was scream.When I felt my orgasm building up,so fast,I whimper a faint “Please”.

When he noticed he said”You better make sure you scream my name when you cum baby,so the whole neighborhood hears who’s cock is making you feel so good.” And those words were the final push over the edge and I came screaming “Oh Roman,Roman,Roman...”

“Oh fuck baby,Y/N.” He came inside of me with a loud growl,and he thrusted into me slower and slower till we came down from our high.

My mind was still on a post orgasm mode when I felt he softly slide out of me,sit on the bed by my side,grab the cloth scissors from the night stand and cut the ropes freeing my wrists and slowly rubbing them to soothe the numbness limbs.Then he stroked my hair softly and asked.

“Y/N,baby?Are you ok?Was I too rough to you love?” I couldn’t help but smile to him,Roman was always like this,so kind,loving and caring.That’s why I was surprised when he agreed on this roleplay.

“I’m more than ok babe,you were perfect”I cupped his bearded cheek.”As you always are!”

He gave me one of his one million dollars smile and leaned in to kiss my lips in the most tender way.

“Well I’m glad to hear that!”He chuckled.”You know,at first, I was a little insecure about this whole consensual non-consensual roleplay thing, I was afraid I was gonna hurt you..but I must say baby,that was one of the most hottest things we’ve ever done together”He laugh.

“Oh see,I told you you were gonna like it!”Now was my turn to laugh.”But seriously Ro,that’s why I wanted to do this with you.Because I trust you,and I know that you could never hurt me,not even if you try it!” I pulled him in for a kiss which he happily accepted.

“I’m glad you think this way baby girl,because”He slowly squeezed my ass.”I’m already starting to have ideas for our next roleplay...” He smiled devilish to me and I couldn’t help but think,what was going on inside that sick lovely mind of my husband?!...

[rigelmejo]

with input-only study first, output/production done later: how do you improve production skills?

this is a bit of a self discussion, spurred by this vocabulary test: https://href.li/?https://itt-leipzig.de/about-the-vocabulary-tests-2/?lang=en

It got me thinking about how so many input first output later study plans exist, and if output skills actually work ‘that easy’ or if there’s additional study that needs to be put in (and wtf ARE those additional study methods that’s needed?)

anyone who’s learned languages through input first, then waited to output (produce) until later, i’d love to hear your opinions on this?

mass immersion approach/refold/Steven Kaufman (and those with similar study methods) tend to think you get lots of input first, then once you can listen/read with very good comprehension, speaking/writing can be worked on and should be possible with only some grammar/pronunciation issues you can note and correct with a tutor - and that may not happen at all if you ‘only produce stuff you know well’ from input.

well... i’m wondering if in general, that means the ability to know those things well... comes really late? like a year after good comprehension itself late?

i assumed i’d have to work on production skills anyway, since i personally don’t think production skills are quite that easy? Like for french, you can passively understand le/la and une/un for every word but it takes more work to memorize which word they go with. For chinese it takes a lot less work to passively learn to read hanzi then to write them from memory. I would assume this also applies to grammar for me? 

And what my current issue seems to be: I can read fine, infer synonyms fine (for where I’m at), follow the main idea fine and locate key info okay, with listening skills improving at a good rate now that I’m working on them. I can produce in the sense I can message in chinese with people. But given a production test - as in “fill in the correct word for these sentences” (not multiple choice but from memory), I cannot do it very well. While I have plenty of practice ‘reading’ those words in their correct general places, I have a hard time recalling from memory what word would fit well in a blank compared to english. (Where if someone said “Let’s go catch the ice ____ truck” in english i’d be able to guess cream is the missing word, I can’t do something like that in chinese). This would be an issue those input-early-on methods don’t cover - what if I have some production skill, but can’t place the right words from memory for the right situations when I am missing a word. In reading, in listening, this is fine as i can compensate and guess and i’m just putting in an english meaning guess in my mind (i’m assuming). But say someone speaks to you, forgets a word, I would not be able to go “oh you mean X?” Like I can with my mom when she forgets a word. I could not pass a production test - the key thing. And if i use words, i’m guessing the rate i use them in ‘weird positions’ is higher. Like using “where’s the brush” for toothbrush, or “i’m going for a stroll” instead of “i’m going for a walk” (just using a less common variant), or “I’m going marching through the woods” instead of “i’m going hiking through the woods.” or “i are tired” instead of “i am tired.” or the ever common mistake i made until high school “i want to go their”, “those people, there nice”, “they’re stuff looks cool.” (i had to read rules to stop messing up their/there, and then/than).

-

Now i’m wondering what i’d even get on an english production test from the site lol. With u know 26 years practice ToT lol. I know in writing I can do it well if it’s a essay, i ramble in blogs so you wouldn’t know lol. I know in actual spoken conversation though I often make incorrect word slips and have to backtrack, I just...talk fast and my mind recorrects after the fact lol. Update: got 86% on an english production test, and 99% on recognition. So I would say the production test may somewhat depend on your cultural knowledge/what’s normal to the english speaking world the test’s sentences use - I would say as a native english speaker, I can produce language fine but the test may utilize some context sentences I rarely run into. So... the chinese test, I would assume, I’d be some percentage worse simply because of similar issues.

Lets guess 5% worse - since part of learning production is knowing correct context to use words in. So if I knew chinese production skills WELL, 14-15% I’d expect to get wrong (since I got that much wrong in english). Plus maybe another 5% because I’m not as surrounded by all the contexts they might use in the test. So if I were my ‘ideal’ chinese production score, it would be an 80%. I would assume that’s realistic to achieve, if I learned the context words belong in relatively well (as good as I did in english, minus some because without being surrounded by the context I probably would miss more but I shouldn’t miss MANY more or it impedes people’s comprehension of me?).

Well I took the chinese vocab production test. I got 19%. DANG.

So that’s 71% recognition, but only 19% correct context production. This is exactly what I mean when I ask: how does input-only first studying, eventually help output? Because at the moment my output is PAINFULLY LAGGING BEHIND my input comprehension skills. Its lagging by 52%!!

-

Assuming my production goal is 80%, rather than the 86% I can do in english - I still have 61% improvement I NEED TO MAKE. 

Also, if this lagging stays at about the same range behind comprehension skills, then even once I can recognize chinese 99% (equivalent comprehension to my Native Language English), my production skills would be at 47%... that’s not very good... (not bad, but not ‘great production skills’ lol).

So??? Unless at some point in immersion/input learning, you know enough that your inherent production skills jump up? I do NOT see input-based learning to be enough to develop overall production skills.

Also, most people will not WAIT to produce language/output until they’re at 99% comprehension. Most people will be satisfied at a lower comprehension (and if they don’t read novels, which Refold does NOT require, then there’s no chance they’re getting to full 100% comprehension before they start outputting). Most methods that suggest input-only study first, do not make learners wait until they 100% comprehend things to output - they just say to wait 1-3 years after input-only study first. So... how DO you develop production/output skills at that time???

Because... I do not see where the “you’ll naturally have good output skills after a certain level of comprehension” idea comes from. Its not true of me. I’ve studied 2 years, and while on a basic level in some instances I feel I can talk about a variety of subjects (not deeply, but on a conversational chat level). That is it. That’s like A2. And that’s certainly not enough to pass a test requiring high production skills - maybe a beginner test. I’ve studied long enough to start reading books, that does not mean my production skills are equivalent. 

I’m curious what people who do input-first methods DO to actually improve production skills when its time. Because... I doubt it comes out almost-fine right away.

Like... if I wait for my comprehension of chinese to be 80% (which is when I’d count on this test as comprehending the 5000 most common words fine, and depending on my reading level may be when I feel I’m mostly satisfied with dropping as much focus on vocab input study - though who knows as I hear 15k vocab needs to be learned for languages with no cognates), If my production skills lag at the same rate they’ll only be at 29%.... that still is probably quite basic expressions. 

[spanishskulduggery]

hola! i was wondering if you could explain the difference between olvidar and olvidarse. i’m having trouble understanding why olvidar would ever be reflexive unless you’re saying “i forgot myself” or something idiomatic like that

thanks!

It’s a bit complicated to describe linguistically, but this isn’t a true reflexive. Bear with me, I’ll try and make this as understandable as possible.

True reflexives are like what you said, it would be “forget myself” in that case. The subject and object are the same and they do something to themselves:

Me afeito. = I’m shaving.

Te duchaste. = You took a shower.

Se lavan las manos. = They’re washing their hands.

The best way to explain a reflexive is lavar “to wash”. Without the reflexive you could “wash the dog”, or “wash the floor”... those involve a direct object. When the object is yourself “I wash (myself) the hands/hair/face” etc it becomes reflexive.

Some reflexives are then what you would call “reciprocal reflexives” which are plural, but they’re things people do to each other, and there’s more than one of them:

Se casaron. = They got married. [as a reciprocal reflexive that’s “they got married (to each other)”]

Se abrazaron. = They hugged each other.

Se conocen. = They know each other.

Se pelean entre sí. = They fight amongst themselves.

The problem is that the reflexive endings [pronomials] are used in places that aren’t always reflexive.

The most obvious ones are the use of impersonal and passive expressions with se, where se frequently has other functions grammatically.

This is where things get murky. 

The reflexive endings [me, te, se, nos, os] are more correctly put under the umbrella term of “pronomials”... which just means that they relate to the pronoun, so they use the “reflexive” endings.

So, to answer your question, olvidarse is a separate matter.

Pronomial verbs [verbs requiring reflexive pronouns] can also include something that’s known as the dative - for this specific concept, it’s called the “ethical dative” [dativo ético] I believe

In linguistic terms this means “it uses a reflexive ending to show a strong or ponderative/weighty meaning that is not otherwise fully expressed without the reflexive ending”

...The simple version is that the use of the reflexive ending adds a separate nuance that a native speaker understands, but non-native speakers don’t always catch.

I like to think of it as the difference between a regular verb and a prepositional verb or a separate verb phrase, because it’s an extra grammatical particle that adds some oomph. And in English we add that kind of oomph with a preposition or the use of a separate word:

ir = to go irse = to leave, to go away

morir = to die morirse = to pass away [it comes out like “to die suddenly” or “to die unexpectedly”, like it’s weightier than morir]

dormir = to sleep dormirse = to fall asleep

acabar = to end acabarse = to run out of, to come to an end [or like acabarse el tiempo “for time to run out” or “for time to be up”]

romper = to break romperse = to break down (on its own)

caer = to fall caerse = to fall down, to collapse, to crumble

hundir = to sink hundirse = to sink down, to capsize, to go under (water)

quedar = to remain, to be left quedarse = to stay behind, to stay (and not leave)

comer = to eat comerse = to eat up, to eat (and enjoy) [this is only said about food or it sounds sexual]

There are also some verbs where the reflexive is absolutely necessary or it changes the meaning or doesn’t sound right:

quejarse (de algo/alguien) = to complain (about something/someone)

acordar = to come to an agreement, to agree upon acordarse = to remember

sentir = to feel (touch), to sense, to notice / to feel sorry, to regret [like lo siento] sentirse = to feel (emotions)

Side Note: This is why you’re taught recordar in school as “to remember”. It’s not actually “to remember” in a general sense. The verb recordar is “to recall”, as el recuerdo is either a “memory” or a “souvenir”.

You can also use recordar with indirect objects; me recuerda a ti “it reminds me of you” which is more like “it brings you to mind”

The verb acordarse de algo/alguien is “to remember (about something/someone)” and you avoid that in the beginning because it’s reflexive and uses a preposition de which is a lot for a new student.

Some verbs can be either depending on what you’re talking about:

poner = to put on

ponerse la ropa = to put on clothes [which is reflexive; “to put on oneself”]

ponerse + emotion = to become [which is more like what we’re talking about as far as not being literal; ponerse triste for example is “to get sad” or “to be in a sad mood”, where it’s more like it’s a temporary mood]

After that you get into more what’s superfluous dative which is the use of se plus an indirect object. That’s more used for extremely passive expressions where something happens to someone and they were not expecting it or are not at fault, or it’s something like it happened but it also affects you a lot:

Rompe el coche/carro. = He/She/It breaks the car. [purposeful]

Se rompió el coche/carro. = The car broke down (on its own).

Se me rompió el coche. = The car up and died on me. / The car broke down (on me).

In superfluous dative it’s “this thing happened and I am not at fault” or “this thing happened and now I am affected”

...So as for olvidar.

Olvidé. = I forgot. [a little purposeful]

Me olvidé. = I completely forgot. [a little emphatic, not purposeful]

Se me olvidó. = It slipped my mind. [emphatic and totally not my fault]

You will often hear people using olvidarse (de algo/alguien) way more than regular olvidar because without the reflexive it can sometimes sound like you didn’t make an effort to remember; it’s like olvidarse is an “oops I forgot about it”.

Or if you’re really apologetic and didn’t mean it at all, then it’s like se me olvidó el libro which is literally “the book forgot itself (to me)” and in plural se me olvidaron los libros “the books forgot themselves (to me)”... which we translate as “it completely slipped my mind”, as if it was the one that did it.

We do sort of have these expressions in English, but we typically add more words in or change the actual verb to get the right nuance across.

[a-pirate-my-hearties]

The Invitation (chapter 1 of my Captain Hook x adult!Wendy fanfiction)

So the lovely @wisp-of-a-spook and I were talking the other day about writing a fic about a masquerade ball with the said pairing. I actually proposed her she could write it but said I will also write my own, so here is the first part! And let’s hope my writer’s block is gone forever! :D But you have to forgive me, since I’m not a Native English speaker and I’m rusty as hell, since I haven’t written any fic in AGES. So bear with me.

@wisp-of-a-spook, so here it is! <3 I hope I will get to the next part soon :)

I just find the Captain Hook tag very lacking in the fanfiction department. ;)

DISCLAIMER: I don’t own any of the characters, these are barely my interpretations of them.

FACECLAIMS: Captain Hook looks like the irreplaceable Jason Isaacs in “Peter Pan” 2003 film.

Wendy Darling more less as an adult Rachel Hurd-Wood. Examples: her roles as Sybil Vane in “Dorian Gray” or anything other where she’s adult anyway.

~~~~~~~~

Wendy Darling was quite content with her life. She was top of the class at the university, close to graduating with a master’s degree. It was to nobody’s surprise that she chose to study literature. Wendy was, after all, a storyteller, and a masterful one at that. It seemed but the right choice to study the stories that had entranced her from her very childhood.

Once a week, every Friday, her close friends would meet her at Mrs. And Mr. Darling’s house, gathering around the fireplace, faces filled with amazement and awe, to listen to the wonderful stories Wendy has been so passionately and carefully crafting and then telling.

Fire would lit in her jade green eyes when she spoke, a mischievous smile playing on her still  yet girlish lips, golden brown locks thrown away in disarray when she gesticulated.

But Wendy Darling was very much a woman now. She grew up and it wasn’t the worst thing that could have happened, she thought.

Yet despite the obvious success in her field, despite the friends and loving family, Wendy’s life lacked something. It lacked something deep and profound and enticing, the feeling that would make her blood stir in excitement,  make the life worthwhile –  companionship and adventure.

And it’s been like that since she left Neverland.

Neverland was a place full of wondrous but treacherous magic that Wendy and her brothers used to frequently visit as children – in their dreams, at first. But soon the veil between dreams and reality became so thin it could rip at any moment – and so it did. Wendy, John and Michael soon met Peter Pan, who tought them to fly and it was him who took them to Neverland – this time for real.

Peter was her first love. She gave him her hidden kiss – oh, to be so vulnerable again –

They lived through all kinds of adventures, met the lost boys and sirens and Indians and pirates and –

Him.

For the past few nights Wendy has been having the same dream on repeat. Surely she must have been missing Neverland. But it was not Peter hauting her dreams. Those weren’t his boyish green eyes and his ‘cockadoodledoo!’ she could hear. Her feelings for him were gone, she was not a girl anymore –

Wendy was dreaming of eyes so blue, those unmistakable eyes, blue as forget-me-nots, of profound melancholy1, and all around her, as if an echo in a well, she could hear his voice:

‘Wendy… Darling...’

Wendy woke up with a loud gasp, eyes shooting wide open. She fell asleep on her desk again, face against the hardcover of her textbook. Grimacing and rubbing her face, she got up and stretched her neck. She put on her favourite lavender robe and went down the stairs to the kitchen to make herself some tea.

The clock in the living room struck midnight and then stopped ticking.2 At first Wendy didn’t notice, busy making her tea, but then it caught her attention.

‘How odd...’

She went to the living room and frowned at the clock in puzzlement, but then heard a firm knock on the door.  

It was very weird for anyone to come at this time , Wendy certainly wasn’t expecting anyone and she was home alone. But Wendy Moira Angela Darling wasn’t raised a coward.

She went to the door and hesitated a bit before opening it. There was nobody and nothing outside.

‘Hello?’

She looked around, irked. Probably some prankster was thinking himself funny with these type of jokes.

But to her surpise there actually was something. A thin, rectangular object, slowly falling down in a feather-like manner and finally landing on her doormat in front of her.

Wendy stared at the object, confused, then picked it up.

It was an envelope, of dark crimson colour, sealed with golden wax. Adressed to ‘Miss Wendy Darling’. And glistening with… was this possible? Was that fairy dust?..

Wendy’s gasp was barely audible when she was staring at the envelope with wonder, but then the chill October air reminded her she wasn’t suitably dressed, so she went back inside.

Still bewildered, she sat at the kitchen table and took a deep breath before cracking the wax open with slightly shaking hands.

Inside there was an invitation card, written in beautiful cursive:

Samhain Masquerade Ball

You are cordially invited to the great Samhain Masquerade Ball, hosted by the ever so generous Captain James Hook. Second star to the right and straight on till morning. We will be honoured by your presence. Wear your best.

Apart from the invitation card there was also a folded piece of parchment. Wendy took it out of the envelope and smelled tobacco, vanilla and spices. It wasn’t a strong smell, it slightly lingered on the parchment, barely a memory of a much stronger essence, but it was enough to make her head spin. Wendy already knew who this was from.

She unfolded the parchment.

‘There’s still a room for a storyteller.’

Even his handwriting felt familiar. And she knew she will accept the invitation.

Wendy felt something light drop onto the floor. She bent down to check what it was. When she got up, her mouth was curling up slightly, eyes filled with nostalgia and pressed forget-me-nots in her hand.

1Just as J.M. Barrie described Captain Hook’s eyes.

2Midnight is the hour of ghosts. In the Gothic fiction it’s the hour where peculiar and fantastical things are more likely to happen. :)

[foxmoulder]

Why did he stop trying?

This is my first msr ficlet, and the following events are supposed to happen a while after FtF. I apologize in advance because there might be some grammar/spelling mistakes. I'm not a native english speaker and I hope you understand and enjoy the story anyways. Feel free to point out what I could improve. :)

1592 words | tagging: @today-in-fic

/// After almost turning into a cocoon for an ET to grow, Scully took a week off to herself, even though she knew a week was too much and she would probably get back to work after three days. It was friday night and she decided to go out for a drink or two, just to refresh her mind remembering how was it to have a normal life instead of chasing for paranormal activities, government secrets and all of the other weird stuff she never believed could happen and yet never found a scientific explanation for.

The working hour has just finished when Mulder was sitting in his office working on a few reports he needed to turn in. He thought about calling Scully to help him with a case he didn't quite remembered well (and perhaps to hear her voice), but decided not to bother her during her day off. He would spend the entire night at his office if needed, just to finish the late reports.

It was around 11 p.m. when Scully checked her watch and decided to get a taxi home. She left the money on top of the bar and left, realizing only then how drunk she actually was. The entire night she kept thinking about her choice of being a FBI agent and how, back then on day one, she had no idea she would go through all that she went so far. And she knew that there was nothing else she could expect happening to her, but deep down she felt a warming comfort knowing that, no matter what, Mulder would be there for her, just like he's always been. 

Her legs seemed not to be following her brain as she walked off the bar, constantly needing to hold onto something for support. She was not used to getting this drunk, but she couldn't help since her mind was spacing out of this world, thinking about so many things that happened to her - specially one: Mulder walking into her life. 

She got inside the taxi and told the driver the adress, realizing right after that she gave Mulder's adress instead of her own. Her head was resting on the car window and, as much as she hated to admit to herself, there was a question inside of her that kept popping into her mind all the time. 

Why did he stop trying?

She was walking down the hall of his floor when she saw door number 42 and knocked.

"Mulder?" she was yelling as she kept desperately knocking "Mulder, it's me!".

No one answered and she was too drunk to keep standing there and knocking his door. She turned her back to the door, sliding down until she was sitting on the floor. Her legs close to her body, she was holding her knees and her head completely thrown back, resting by the door. "What am I doing here, anyways?" she told herself, not finding any strength to stand up and leave - and not even bothered by that. 

Ten minutes later, Mulder was walking down the hall when he saw a woman in front of his apartment. He quickly realized it was Scully and ran to get to her.  

"Scully? Are you ok?" he said as he bent down to help her up. She stretched out her arms so he could grab her. He easily noticed she was drunk like he never seen before, her sweet perfume was completely replaced by the alcohol smell.

They were both standing up and Scully was completely supported by him, he was even having some trouble holding her and getting his keys. As he opened the door, shutting it right behind him with his foot, he grabbed her with both his arms, lifting her from the ground and taking her to sit on the couch. 

He crouched down in front of her, smoothing her hair behind her ear. "Are you ok? Can I get you a glass of water?".

"No, Mulder. I'm fine... I just... It's ok" she said realizing she was still drunk and yet with no courage of asking him what's been on her mind for the past week. 

He noticed she was confused, drunk and that she had no intention of doing anything at all. She didn't look like she was going to get up and go home. He wasn't sure about what to do to help her, but he knew she needed a shower. Something about it sort of bothered him, since he didn't know how exactly she would respond to that considering her state.

"What about a shower? I can get you a clean t-shirt and you can sleep in the bed. I'm used to the couch, anyways" he smirked. She smiled back to him, nodding her head yes.

Scully failed trying to stand up and he helped her, guiding her by her shoulders to the bathroom door. With her own feet she took off the black heels she was wearing, turning to him as she held his shoulders in hope to balance herself. She started unbuttoning her red shirt with a certain difficulty. He was kinda embarrassed but helped her and couldn't help but notice her lacy white bra, which held her delicate breasts perfectly, almost as if they've been sculpted. He tried not to focus on admiring her body, even though she didn't seem to care. It's not like he haven't seen her naked before, even under awful circumstances... He helped her take off her black social pants, seeing that her underwear matched her bra. He closed his eyes and took a deeper breath, hoping to save the image of her in lingerie on his mind. 

She was completely naked, her back facing him, as she was walking to the shower, failing her steps, when Mulder instinctively held her by her waist, guiding her to enter the shower. 

Scully was standing inside the shower, the hot water running through her body, making she feel so comfortable she could stay there forever. He went to the room to get her a towel, as well as a white t-shirt and blue shorts that he knew it would never fit her tiny body. He changed his clothes to a gray t-shirt and sweatpants and sat on his bed, waiting for her to finish her shower.

When Mulder heard her closing the faucet, he entered the bathroom and handed her the towel, but instead, she got off the shower and turned her back to him so he could wrap the towel around her body. He couldn't help but to subtly smile at her gesture, even though she couldn't see. He let her dry herself and went back to the room. 

As she was entering his room he handed her the clothes he had picked and she grabbed from his hands, already returning the shorts.

"You know I could fit both my legs in just one side of this shorts, right?" she smiled at him and he laughed back at her. She was right. Her hair was wet, and she had the gray towel he gave to her, tangled around her body so softly he wanted to hug her for an eternity. She was still a bit drunk, but able to stand up without help now. 

Scully gave him a look that meant she was about to change from the towel to the t-shirt and she didn't want him to look. Which made no sense, but she was now more aware of herself being naked in front of him. She dressed the t-shirt that covered half of her thighs and decided to wear the same underwear, since she was not wearing the blue shorts.

She walked out of his room to find him laying on the couch, staring at the ceiling. She sat on the end of the couch, lifting Mulder's feet, putting them on her lap. 

"I guess you're probably wondering why I'm here..." she said with her head down, playing with his feet almost giving him a massage. Mulder raised his chest, leaning on his elbows, so he could look at her in a better way. 

"Well, I surely wasn't expecting to rescue drunk Scully sitting by my door. Always thought it would be the other way around" he smiled at her.

Scully gave him a shy smile and felt this fervent urge to ask him what she knew she couldn't keep living without the answer. She was still a little drunk, she had already gave him the privilege to see her in lingerie. She knew that asking him wouldn't change things between them - but at the same time she wanted it to change. 

"Mulder..." she could feel her voice shaking. He bent his head to the side trying to look at her face as a response. "Why did you stop trying?". He seemed confused by her question.

"Trying to...?" he asked, contracting his eyebrows. He was still confused... was she talking about aliens? 

"To kiss me. You know... after that day..." she was looking down, embarrassed and her chest felt like someone that just ran a marathon. She could swear her heart would pop out of her mouth.

He smiled so big. He was so happy to know that she was expecting him to kiss her. And that it wouldn't bother her in any ways.

"Scully..." she looked at him and saw his big smile. She raised her eyebrows hoping to hear something that would warm her heart - and deep down she knew she would. "Not a day went by that I haven't thought about kissing you".