#or stop making them speak in French I don’t know

[rocketrouquine]

Not to be harsh or anything but which part of France are you from ? because the accent must be insane if your French is worse than theirs 😂

For Sam, I get that he is Australian and that it must be tough, but his french was incomprehensible without subtitles. I concede that Assad was immaculate for a non speaker, though ; but since Armand is not supposed to be French, that his pronunciation and understanding of the language was infinitely better than Lestat’s and Nicky’s was cringe AF.

Roxane (Madeleine) IS French so no qualm here (but the difference with the others in scenes in french was made all the more flagrant : the one with her aggressors for example) ; all the extras in the second season were atrocious and pissed me off personally : it’s really not difficult to get a native for a small speaking part, I hate when they do that, it takes me out of the story 😒 I mean, the killed gendarmes in episode 2 and 8 were clearly French so proof it is possible.

Sorry, nothing against you or anything but no, butchering was clearly made.

btw I’m french and it really warmed my heart when I heard the characters of iwtv speaking french without butchering tf out of it lmaoo . I think that their french is better than mine lol

[femsolid]

Hi femsolid, since you and @floatingbook are the only two separate French bloggers that I know of. I wanted to ask on how you deal with colored men in particular middle eastern men. I don’t have a car so I often use Uber I’m thinking of switching to G7 I’m not sure if it’s any better. I have noticed that as drivers they are very aggressive and id prefer not to deal with that. I noticed that they tend to show more aggression to regular women (non Muslim women). I use the metro mainly and bc of that I come in contact with men. I haven’t had many negative experiences but I have noticed people getting more antsy on the metro. I’m also thinking of switching to female only membership only private spaces. I use to enjoy walking in public spaces but men keeping using that as an excuse for small talk. They often approach me and are very persistent. I think it’s ridiculous that I can’t be in public spaces. Do you know any good places in Ile de France? I’m happy we don’t have to beat around the bush about the immigration problem because a lot of these women are problematic too. Both genders ask me for money but it’s mainly women that try to use their children as a prop against me. So many of them are so entitled when asking for money too. I’ve noticed with them they never ask Caucasian French people they intentionally go after other minorities. Also what Arrondissements do you avoid? I once ended up in one part of town where I questioned what city I was in. Those neighborhoods tend to be a hit or miss sometimes people are nice sometimes they aren’t. Anyways please make a post on how to live in France as a separatist. I live in Paris so that makes it easier

I don't keep track of where I'll find more people of colour so I can avoid them, I don't sort through men based on their ethnicities, I don't call muslim women "non regular women", I don't view syrian refugees as a nuisance using their kids (who should be in school but are left in the street by the french government) against me, I don't believe there's an "immigration problem", I know there are more white men raping their daughters in France than there are refugees catcalling you.

What gets me the most is not what you're saying, I've heard it all before, it's the way you're saying it. It's the nonchalance, as if there was a tacit and national agreement on the matter. You probably don't think you said anything racist at all. It's probably the way your family speaks at dinner time, or how your favourite presidential candidate speaks, or how whatever "feminist" space you frequent speaks too. You assume I totally get where you're coming from and will obviously agree and give you some tips on how to avoid those nasty arabs.

So I'm going to tell you something, only because I'm feeling very patient today. Racism is a conspiracy theory. And when you're so used to having racist conversations with your racist friends and family that you think you can actually say shit like that in public, be scared. And stop watching racist news channels.

If I were to make a post about being a feminist separatist in France, you'd probably find it very unhelpful, as it wouldn't address any of your bourgeois problems such as refugee kids begging you for coins.

[yoohyeon]

Me internally while my aunt is annoying the fuck out of me

[musaslullaby]

Busy days

grid x fem reader

p1 p2 p3 p4

Summary: You have a week off from racing and you spend it with your favorite drivers.

Face: people on Pinterest and the driver

Warning: Most of the grid has a small weakness for you. It's a series

Masterlist

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Yn.official

Description: Busy week ahead, but we're starting with an intense gym session with @.georgerussell63

liked by charles_leclerc,Yn.official , and other 9384934802

Georgeismylife: Guys, look at the smile George gives Yn

user34: Crazy in love

f1lover: I want a special session with George too

Formula_1: The beauty of this couple

georgerussell63: We should train together more often

❤️ Like to author

Yn.official: Yes, your advice is very helpful

danielricciardo: You’re too young to go to the gym with a man

Yn.official: Dad, don't be boring and old

georgerussell63: Exactly, dad

landonorris: The sexiest picture I've ever seen

❤️ Like to author

carlossainz55: Can’t deny it, you look beautiful, mi vida ❤️ Like to author

oscarpiastri: For once, I agree with these two ❤️ Like to author

maxverstappen1: Don’t tire yourself out too much with them

charles_leclerc: I’m sure she has more fun with us than with you

maxverstappen1: Wait until the next race, and I’ll crash you into the barrier

Yn.official: Guys, stop, you know I enjoy being with all of you

f1gossip: Drama fans, grab your popcorn and chips

charles_: The guys are fighting over Yn

Hotchili: Amidst all this, I’m still a Lestappen fan ❤️ Like to author

Yn.official: Who isn't?

Yn.official

Description: Guys, he kept his promise, and those pancakes were delicious. Gracias, Carlito

liked by Landonorris, Yn.official, and other 73672388

Ynlove: What did you put on them?

Yn.official: Maple syrup and blueberries

user2: It’s true, in an interview you said you loved blueberries

carlossainz55: It was a pleasure having you with me, cariño

❤️ Like to author

Yn.official: You need to give me Spanish lessons because I need a refresher

oscarpiastri: Yn, do you know Spanish?

Yn.official: I studied it for three years in school, but I don't remember it very well

carlossainz55: I’m always at your disposal, mi vida ❤️ Like to author

charles_leclerc: Tell me something you can't do

georgerussell63: You’re perfect, you can do everything

Yn.official: Unfortunately, I can't speak French. I just can't get the accent right, it's too complicated

charles_leclerc: I could teach you

Yn.official: Trust me, there’s no hope for me, I’m terrible at it

charles_leclerc: It would be fun, please? ❤️ Like to author

Yn.official: Alright, but if you go crazy after two seconds, it's not my fault.

charles_leclerc: It won't happen, moun angel ❤️ Like to author

user12: Charles is lovesick

Carls: Who's team Carlos?

F1lover: Guys, let's not bet on Yn's love life

charles_leclerc

Description: When she said she was a disaster, she wasn’t kidding.

liked by carlossainz55, Yn.official, and other 623623762

Race: Charles' face is priceless

Formulaonelife: Those professor glasses make him look even better

Ynllife: Yn, how do you resist Charles???

QueenYn: Please teach us!!!

Yn.official: It takes self-control, guys ❤️ Like to author

landonorris: Dude, you look like you've seen a ghost

oscarpiastri: It can't be that bad

charles_leclerc: That’s what I thought too

Yn.official: At least I enjoyed a nap with Leo ❤️ Like to author

carlossainz55: Yn, come back to me, Spanish suits you better

Yn.official: Only if you invite me to your house in Madrid

carlossainz55: You’re always welcome, mi vida

danielricciardo: I don't agree with these nicknames and all these visits to strangers' houses

landonorris: We’re not strangers, we see each other almost every day ❤️ Like to author

danielricciardo: And that’s not enough for you???

Leo_lec: No, guys, but how beautiful is the last photo

user1: I’m so jealous of her

Charles_fan: I want a nap with Leo too

oscarpiastri

Description: Beach during the day and restaurant at night

liked by Yn.official, georgerussell63, and other 293932892

danielricciardo: Oscar, I’ll cut off your hands

❤️ Like to author

maxverstappen1: You just marked the day of your death

landonorris: Since when do you have the muscles to lift someone?

oscarpiastri: I didn’t even know I could do it either

carlossainz55: I can’t believe it

georgerussell63: I’ll forgive you only because you didn’t drop her

charles_leclerc: You didn’t get hurt, right? ❤️ Like to author

Yn.official: Still perfectly alive and walking on both legs

f1lover: YN, DO YOU NEED TO TELL US SOMETHING???

race: What happened after the restaurant???

Vroom: Spicy night?

Ynqueen: Guys, she clearly didn’t mean that

Ynmylife: Poor thing, always judged and with all eyes on her

Osc81: Instead of focusing on Yn’s private matters, let’s focus on the fact that the grid wants to kill Oscar ❤️ Like to author

op: I swear I’ll pay you if you don’t kill him

Yn.official: Confirming I need him alive

Olliebearman: I agree with Yn, I’m against violence ❤️ Like to author

Yn.official

Description: I hate you for ruining my photo.

liked by Landonorris, maxverstappen1, and other 83494829

osc_lan: What are you saying, Yn? The fact that Lando is in it makes it even better

mclaren: We can confirm the photo turned out well despite the intruder ❤️ Like to author

Landonorris: McLaren is always on my side.

Yn.official: This time I forgive you.

Landonorris: You'd never stay mad at me for more than an hour, admit it.

Yn.official: 😒😒😒

Ylqueem: Oh my god, now even McLaren has fallen in love with Yn

Lifeisf1: Oh no, we have another suitor

Lando_: Imagine Yn at McLaren

op: I think I’d go crazy

georgerussell63: If I were Lando, I’d sue you for that last picture

Landonorris: That’s exactly what I’m going to do

charles_leclerc: Wait, I’m joining too

Yn.official: Everyone is teaming up against me

maxverstappen1: Let them hope, they wouldn’t even get close to the police station

danielricciardo: For my daughter’s safety, I need to ask why ❤️ Like to author

Yn.official: Don’t worry, Dad, I got the meaning of the sentence

oscarpiastri: Are you agreeing with him?

Yn.official: They stabbed me in the back, of course I’m siding with Mad Max

maxverstappen1: After that nickname, I’m switching to the enemy’s side

Yn.official: No, don’t leave meeee

user6: The best interaction I’ve ever seen on Instagram

Laando: Everyone’s focused on YN, but no one noticed how good-looking Lando is

f1lover: That’s a given

Vroom: Yeah, but in the first photo, he’s really handsome

maxverstappen1

Description: Calm day

liked by Yn.official, oscarpiastri, and other 84783728

Redbulllove: Max, a man of few words

mv1: No point in cropping out half of Yn's face, we still recognize her

Yn.official: I adore Jimmy and Sassy

❤️ Like to author

maxverstappen1: They adore you

Yn.official: I love them so much! ❤️ Like to author

charles_leclerc: Now Leo is jealous

Yn.official: Are we sure it’s Leo who’s jealous?

danielricciardo: What should I do with you, Yn?

Yn.official: Nothing, just love me a lot

Ynqueen: How I love these interactions

f1lover: They should make an entire Netflix series about this

Race: They should add all of this to Drive to Survive

Vroom: I completely agree

radbullracing: We approve of the last photo, have fun

❤️ Like to author

user1: Oh no, after McLaren, now Red Bull too

maxverstappen1: There's no shortage of fun with her.

Yn.official: I'm the life of the party. ❤️ Like to author

User87: Has anyone wondered how the cat got stuck in the hole?

User1: Dude, I really don’t know.

Yn.official: They’re too cute, right? ❤️ Like to author

maxverstappen1: Like you

user32: Omg this is not max

Catvroom: Yn is clearly a cat person.

For_mula: Guys, I don’t know about you, but it bothers me how Yn is with every driver

user66: Honestly, it seems like she’s just playing with them

Ynlife: Maybe you’re just jealous

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Tag list

@barcelonaloverf1life

[albonify]

Nevermind, Let’s Hard Launch ! - Lando Norris

SUMMERY: Y/N has been reluctant to go public with her and Lando’s relationship, until she builds up enough courage to soft launch, but she gets bored.

WARNINGS: none, reader can speak french

french mon amor - my love, ma vie - my life

Y/N scoffs, putting her phone down. She is currently sitting on a yacht off the coast of Malta, curled up with her boyfriend, Lando, looking out at the water as she gently plays with his hair. Lando, hearing her scoff, looks up

“What’s up baby?” “Articles talking about how you have a new girlfriend this weekend, her names Alice by the way.”

He chuckles and opens his mouth to speak but Y/N cuts him off.

“She’s a brunette and totally your type!” she smiles as she mocks the article.

Y/N fakes a gasp, “Lando, ma vie, did you know that you apparently have a thing for tall brunettes? Because I sure didn’t.” she feigns shock before laughing. Lando just softly laughs at the girl’s antics.

“Baby, you know not to listen to those articles, because i’m pretty sure they’re wrong anyways. Im don’t think I know an Alice” he says, jokingly putting his thumb and index finger on his chin to feign thought.

“Oh i know ma vie, but they are quite funny to look at”, she laughs, “Besides”, she smiles and leans in, kissing him, “I know the truth”.

She smiles at him and gently intertwines their fingers. Lando smiles back at her and kisses her pinky finger, interlocked with his. It’s become a common place for the boy to kiss, having fallen in love with it when he first saw her freckle there.

“Just say the word and i’ll post us Y/N , you know i’ve been dying to let the the world know about you.” he states, looking at her.

“I know mon amor but I i’ve seen how girlfriends get treated online, and i am in no way ready for that.”

She sighs as she snuggles her head into the crook of Lando’s neck. Lando puts on a sad smile as he gently brushes through her hair.

“i know baby, but i promise, when we do go public, anyone who has hate to say will be dealt with, i wont let them get in the way of me and the girl i love.” Lando says softly.

Y/N smiles into his neck and leave a soft kiss to skin, she loves kissing his neck, its her sign of affection, totally nothing to do with the fact Lando just has a nice neck…

Lando, in return, moves her hair and kisses behind her ear, another common place for the boy to kiss, before his smile turns into a grin and he starts to gently tickle Y/N.

Y/n shouts softly “Lando no! stop!” inbetween her laughs.

Lando just start tickling her more adjusting their position so he is above her making it easier to tickle her, this time less gently as it prompts more laughs.

God how he loves Y/N’s laugh. he could listen to it all day.

It’s not until she starts kicking her feet against the couch that he stops.

Y/N looks at Lando, his grin still prominent as he catches his breath, his messy hair asking to be played with, and she thinks she falls more in love at the sight.

At the same time Lando just looks at her, her hair all disheveled, slightly out of breath, her cheeks pink, and her smile still beaming, its at this moment Lando knows it’s her forever.

“I love you so much baby” He says as he kisses her softly.

Y/N kisses him back saying, “I love you too mon amor, more than you could ever know”. She smiles before her eyes drift and Lando recognizes that look, she’s in thought.

He lays down softly kissing her cheek before looking at her, “What you thinking about baby?”.

Y/N looks up at the sound of his voice, “What if we soft launch?”.

Lando lights up at the idea of finally being able to show her off, “Are you sure love? we dont have to if you dont want to”.

“Yeah im sure mon amor, t we’ve been dating since our teens and i know it’s you Lan it always has been and it always will be, not even the internet will change that. so yes Lan, im ready.” She smiles softly reaching up to touch his hair.

Lando smiles brightly, slightly blushing at her comment, “Im glad because I feel the same way” He leans down and kisses her. When he comes back up his grin has become a smirk.

“Well what are we waiting for?” he asks “LET’s SOFT LAUNCH” Y/N laughs and grabs her phone.

landonorris

liked by yourusername, oscarpiastri, and 384001 others

landonorris summer break was epic

VIEW COMMENTS

user LANDO WHAT ITS THIS

oscarpiastri great break huh? 😏

-> user OSCAR WHAT DO YOU KNOW

-> landonorris yeah, it was pretty good!

-> user why are men so dry 😐

user THE SECOND SLIDE?!!! jdksndowmendk LANDO.

yourusername 🤍🐚

user IS THIS A SOFT LAUNCH

-> user did you hear that? that was my heart shattering.

user ladies i fear this is a soft launch, we lost him 😔

maxfewtrell wtf mate, why dont i know about this?

yourusername

🎶 High by the Beach - Lana Del Rey

liked by bsf.user, friend1.user, and 209 others

yourusername 🌊🤍🐚

VIEW COMMENTS

bsf.user UHM HELLO?

bsf.user WHO IS THAT

bsf.user WHO IS TRYING TO STEAL MY GIRL

-> yourusername 🤷🏼‍♀️🤭

-> bsf.user UNACCEPTABLE.

bsf.user you look so absolutely stunning tho 🤍🤍

-> yourusername i love youuuu 🤍

friend1.user oh so we have a lot to catch up on then?

friend2.user oh youre glowing babes 💋

It’s been a few days since you and Lando soft launched. You were happy to see most people were supportive but you were still nervous.

“What you looking at baby?” Lando asks.

Right now you where tanning on the beach with a book in your hands, lando was soaked, having just came from the water. “Reading and thinking my love.” you reply.

Lando moves to lay on you, “what are you thinking about pretty girl?” he asks as he closes his eyes, joining her in sunbathing.

“Our soft launch” Y/N replies. At that Lando eyes widen, “is something wrong with it?” he asks worried.

“No my love, I was thinking about what if we did more.” “more?” Lando asks confused.

“Yeah like what if we hard launched?” Y/N said nervously picking at her cuticles.

Lando grabs her hands to stop her and looks at her, “You… want to… hard launch?” he asks her confused, knowing that she loved the privacy they had. “Yeah i know its you and i know the internet wont get in the way of us, so i want to hard launch”

“OMG OKAY im gonna go do that right now i love you” Lando quickly kisses her and runs to get his phone.

Y/N laughs at the boys excitement and grabs her phone waiting for whats next.

landonorris

🎶 Cupid’s Chokehold - Gym Class Heroes

liked by yourusername, oscarpiastri, and 875,527 others

landonorris 5 years with you, to forever more years. i love you forever my dear 🤍

tagged: yourusername

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COMMENTS HAVE BEEN RESTRICTED

yourusername the best 5 years of my life, cant wait for the rest. onto our forever my love 🧡.

yourusername

🎶 Always Forever - Cults

liked by landonorris, bsf.user, and 145,683 others

yourusername i’ve loved you 5 years of my life and i plan to keep loving you for the rest. toi toujours, ma vie 🧡.

tagged: landonorris

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landonorris i cant wait to get married and get old with you. i love you now and forever flower 🤍.

—

🏷️’s

@fangirl-dot-com @lizzypiastri

[florencesf1blog]

hii

please number 10 from the smut prompt list no.3 with charles, maybe reader went out to the store or something and he is looking for one of his rings that he lost and finds her toys so he waits for her and makes her use them :)

wrong drawer

Charles Leclerc x fem!Reader

In which your boyfriend finds your…other partner.

Words: 908 Warnings: 18+, toys, voyeurism, language, poorly translated french (they do NOT teach you the dirty stuff in school)

Days like these were your favorite. The short period of time your boyfriend wasn’t occupied with training, racing or whatever media duties Ferrari put him up with. Right now, it was just the two of you.

Usually, Charles his romantic ass would try and go all out for you in the short amount of time you had together. But you assured him that a movie night on the couch would suffice.

The keys jingle as you turn the lock of the front door open, stepping foot inside your boyfriends apartment. You had gone out for a small 10 minutes to get some food, the small plastic bag hanging from your arm. You had expected Charles to be waiting for you on the couch, but he was nowhere to be seen.

“Charles?” you call out, but you don’t get an answer. You put the bag down on the dining table, walking around the apartment in slight confusion. He wouldn’t have left while you were out. It made no sense.

Turning the handle of your bedroom door, you slowly open it to reveal Charles. You freeze once you notice the state of the scene. The bottom bedside drawer opened up, now no longer containing what it had before. Slowly, your eyes drift up towards Charles. The devious smirk on his face said it all. Once you opened your mouth to speak, he cut you off.

“Qu'est-ce que c'est?” (what is this?) he asks in an almost mocking manner. He knew exactly what he was holding, the sight of your tiny bullet vibrator in his hands making your cheeks flush red.

Do i lie? Tell him it’s something else? Maybe he’d believe me if i said it isn’t mine? ‘I’m holding on to that vibrator for a friend. Ha-ha’

“Mon cœur?” his voice breaks you out of your thought process, eyes drifting back up to meet this. “I use it when you’re gone. Just whenever i miss you and you’re far away and-“

“Show me.” his low, gruff voice stops your word vomit. And when you thought it couldn’t, your cheeks turn an even darker shade of red. “Show you?”

He nods his head simply, as if it is the most common request in the world. Maybe this should weird you out. Be the point where you cross the line. But the thought of him watching you, showing him that even the thought of him could make you feel that way was way more exciting than it should be.

He gets up from the bed, handing you your vibrator. This wasn’t the first time you’d use it, far from it. But all of it still felt new now that you had eyes on you. Slowly, you pull your sweats and panties down. Charles wat he’s your every move, his eyes roaming over your body. You crawl onto the bed, positioning yourself on your back with your legs up. Like a hawk, Charles watches as you slowly inch the toy closer to your center.

“Plus grand, ma belle” (wider) he commands as his hand ticks your ankle. Your legs spread further, giving him the full view of your wet pussy. You could’ve sworn you heard a growl escape him at the sight, making you feel a bit more confident. Letting the toy run through your folds, it comes to life as you press the button. A sigh of pleasure and relief escapes you as the ache between your legs is getting taken care of.

You position the vibrator on your clit, a gentle moan escaping your lips at the friction. Your hips buck upwards at the sensation, chest heaving up and down. It was a new type of pleasure, knowing you were being watched constantly. You circle it around, adding to your please as you put out a soft “Charles” to break the silence.

“Tellement jolie…” (so pretty) he nearly growls at the sight, his hard on stretching through his jeans. “Putain…” (fuck)

Knowing how much this turned him on it encouraged you to put on a show. Legs spreading wider, moans becoming louder and more frequent. You knew exactly what god him every single time.

You inch the vibrator down, slowly letting it into your pussy with a wet noise. A groan escapes as you move it in and out of yourself, your wetness dripping onto the sheets. You feel yourself get closer and closer as you let the vibrator go back up to your clit and switch in between the two. Charles knows the signs. The way your legs would start to tremble, the way your moans would become more frequent and your breathing heavier.

“That’s it bébé, jouis pour moi” (baby, cum for me) he mutters, and as you glance down at him it doesn’t take long before you do. He was basically drooling over you, his eyes so focused on the way your hand pushed the vibrator in and out of you. It was as if he was absolutely mesmerized. And it was enough to send you over the edge, a string of moans and some curses escaping you.

You let yourself ride out your high before putting the toy down, still panting from the overwhelming sensation. Charles stands back up to his full form, undoing the buttons and zipper of his jeans. He pulls them down along with his boxers, freeing his hard on.

“Nous n'en avons pas terminé, mon amour” (we are not done, my love)

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A/N: got a lot of lando and oscar requests but thought id do a charles one first for some variation. btw i got like 30 requests within 30mins so i have a lot of writing to do. hope u guys enjoyed thise one :)

[moonstruckme]

Could you maybe do Siri speaking to the reader in French and they don’t understand french maybe they think it’s dirty or something. But he’s being incredibly sweet and talking about how much he loves them but he won’t tell them what it means ahh

Thanks for requesting!

cw: Sirius is unbearably cheesy (I'm unbearably cheesy about him)

Sirius Black x fem!reader ♡ 408 words

Your face is so red it’s a wonder you’re not sweating, but unfortunately for you, your misery isn’t enough to dissuade Sirius. Actually, it’s half the fun. 

“You’re so cute when you get like this,” he says to you in French, letting the light syllables flow from his lips as they curve into a devious smile. “My poor baby, so afraid of hearing me say how lovely you are.” 

“Sirius, please, what’re you saying?” you ask in English, looking pained. When Sirius shows no inclination to answer, you turn to James. “All I got from that was ‘baby.’” 

James eyebrows are knit together in concentration. “I’ve only picked up on a few words over the years, but I think I heard ‘ass’ in there.” 

You squirm uneasily, and Remus scoffs. “Stop talking about your girlfriend’s ass in public. I don’t care what language you use, it’s still weird.” 

“Don’t worry about it,” Sirius says, and you visibly relax at his use of your common language. “It’s no bother to you if you can’t understand, is it?” He fixes his gaze back on you. “If they knew how crazy I am for you,” he goes on in French, “they’d never let me hear the end of it. So I’m sorry, but some secrecy is necessary.” Your eyebrows pinch in distressed confusion, and Sirius leans forward, kissing between them. “I’m not going to pretend your ass isn’t lovely—”

“There!” James exclaims. “I definitely heard it there.” 

“—but that’s hardly the best thing about you, angel. You make me so, so happy.” 

You’re gnawing at your bottom lip, and Sirius takes your face in his hand, pulling it free with his thumb. “Someday, I’ll tell you how much you mean to me, when we can both handle it better.” Your blush worsens at his saccharine tone, and he grins. “Though I’m not sure if I can afford to wait until you stop being embarrassed by compliments, my sweet girl.” Sirius cuts a look to the side, James staring him down as he tries feebly to catch a word or phrase he might know. “It’ll have to be when we’re away from these idiots, too.” 

James’ eyebrows fly up, and Remus chuckles. “Okay, even I got that one. You talking shit about us, Pads?” 

“Always,” Sirius says in English. He moves to your side, tucking you under his arm and pressing a kiss to your overwarm cheek. “Not you, though, mon coeur.”

[rileyslibrary]

(Can i just say i love ur work, i too read them like bedtime stories, u perform a great service to humanity my good comrade)

Also, could i request perhaps Reader needing to go undercover for a mission and getting a bit too close for comfort with some baddies and thus making Ghost worry? He’s certainly not jealous by any means tho, of course not! Nope. Not jealous at all. Not even a smidge.

He is tho. He’s jealous. In his own Ghost way.

Thank you for your kind words, nonny and sorry for being so late!

Reader is an undercover tourist in Paris for this one. No warnings, other than a pretty sulky Ghost. More A/N at the end.)

———————————————————————

He hasn’t uttered a word since you returned to your temporary base. No “good job,” no “well done,” no “thank you for risking your life for the team.” Nothing. He didn’t even stick around for the debriefing. Instead, he stashed his gear in his locker and headed straight to the kitchen.

Usually, after a high-stress operation, Ghost would go to the kitchen to make some tea. Yet, the way he went about his business today seemed more like he was about to sharpen his knives than brew himself a ‘cuppa’.

There is a reason he’s upset, though, and you know it. While you are always prepared to risk your life for the team, your latest actions were pretty... out of character, so to speak, and Ghost took notice of that.

You stare at the closed kitchen door, wondering what’s unfolding behind it, how he feels, and whether he can communicate it without lashing out.

“Maybe it’s best to give him some space,” Price advises, narrowing his eyes. “You did a pretty risky thing back there; no reason to push your luck.”

“A whole kitchen’s worth of space, Captain?” you retort. “I’ll evacuate if things take a turn for the worse.”

“Call for backup if you can’t handle it,” he winks at you. “And don’t tell him I did that,” he says, pointing at his closed eye.

You smile at him, and push open the kitchen door. Ghost sits at the table, his back turned towards you, hunched over a cup of tea. He has his balaclava draped over his right thigh and his gloves on the table.

“Your hair is a mess.” You tease.

You reach to fix the stray hairs hanging over his forehead, but he pulls away from your touch. You lower your hand and go for the kettle instead. This will be much more difficult, you think to yourself.

“Coffee?” You offer. Although you know he’d refuse, you feel it’s a good way to break the ice.

Yet he doesn’t reply. Instead, he reclines on his chair and stirs the tea with a metal spoon. With your back turned to him, you pour the preheated water into your cup, add coffee granules, and cool it down with a gentle blow. The clinking of the metal spoon against the ceramic mug continues until it suddenly stops.

“Are you alright, mademoiselle?” He mocks, with a fake—and quite terrible—French accent, mimicking the enemy guard who “rescued” you when you dramatically pretended to twist your ankle in front of him.

A chuckle escapes you, and you turn to face him, leaning against the kitchen counter. He keeps his gaze fixed on his cup.

“I had to buy some time for Soap and Gaz, Lieutenant,” you explain. “They were inside that safehouse, gathering-”

“Intel,” he interjects. “I was there too; no need to rehash it.”

“The guards were dangerously close, sir,” you press on. “There was no time.”

He shakes his head. “No time doesn’t mean dropping to your hands and knees like a coquette, bawling your eyes out, waiting for a French knight in shining armour to come and save you now, does it?” he spats.

You raise an eyebrow. ‘Coquette’? You? He knows damn well the fall was staged, the tears were fabricated, the vulnerability was an act. The fall did hurt; otherwise, it wouldn’t have been believable. But shedding tears over twisting your ankle? No way. You’ve endured bullet wounds in the past, for heaven’s sake, and barely flinched. Ghost knows that. Yet, he looks more…

“Jealous, Lt.?”

“Don’t flatter yourself, sweetheart.” He murmurs, scratching his forehead.

“Say what you want,” You shrug. “But you must admit: it was a pretty convincing fall.”

“Yeah,” he replies. “Nothing says more ‘convincing’ like kissing the cobblestones of Paris.”

“Alright,” you say, leaving your cup on the kitchen counter. You cross your arms in front of your chest and nod upwards. “What would you have done, then?”

“Shoot him,” he responds, his black-painted eyes shifting from the cup to you. “That’s why I was up on the rooftop, remember?”

“What’s the point of going undercover if you’d eliminate the threat like that?” You persist. “And in a public place like that? Come on, Lt.!”

He pushes his cup to the side, places his hands on the kitchen table and stands up.

“Have you ever thought of what would have happened if your cover was blown?” He asks, raising his voice. “How was I supposed to protect you if you were right in front of my bloody target?”

You keep staring at him, his last words replaying in your mind.

How was I supposed to protect you…

You look at your mug on the counter; the steam from the coffee is almost gone. It must have been transferred onto him instead, you think to yourself. Might as well let him blow it off. Let him vent.

“I know how to protect myself, Ghost.”

He sits back on his chair and brings his tea closer, shaking his head.

“You should’ve waited for the signal.” He says. “We’ve got a plan for a reason.”

“I understand, s-”

“Falling in front of the enemy, letting him scoop you up like a fucking princess in agony, removing your shoe, fetching you ice from the coffee shop wasn’t part of the plan.”

A smile threatens to escape your lips, but you suppress it. You turn your back to him and pretend to clean the counter. There’s no reason to anger him more.

“Sir,” you begin. “What is the problem here: me not following orders or letting the guard run to my aid?”

“I don’t care about that French prick touching your ankle.” He murmurs.

Well, seems that ‘French prick’ touching you bothered him as much as you not following the plan. You stop fake-wiping the counter, grab your mug and turn towards him.

“I apologise, sir,” you say. “It won’t happen again. But you could have voiced your concerns in a less... abrasive way.”

“Wasn’t the pavement abrasive enough?” He snaps. “What’s next? Are you going to cry over it?”

You click your tongue and approach the table, extending your hand for a handshake.

“Alright, enough,” you say. “Let’s make a truce and end this right now.”

He remains still, looking at you. He finally reaches for your hand, but instead of shaking it, he twists it so your palm faces down. With a smirk, he stands up, brings it to his mouth, and kisses it.

“Isn’t that how that fucker would have done it?” he asks, still smiling.

You roll your eyes. At least his anger has died down and you’re left with his—typical—snarky self. You pull a chair across from him.

“Mind if I sit?” You ask.

“Normally, I’d tell you to ‘hit the bricks’,” He murmurs, motioning for you to take your place. “But you’ve already done that.”

———————————————————————

A/N: I keep confusing “ankle” with “uncle”. You twist your ankle, not your uncle ffs.

[neiveel3llson]

Obey Me! Incorrect quotes

Diavolo trying to convince MC to continue being the babysitter:

NB Diavolo: "What are you talking about MC? You love it here!"

NB MC: "I'm not sure I do, I think I've just developed Stockholm syndrome."

Solomon being an old ass man:

NB Solomon: "The dinosaurs didn’t rule the earth they were just alive. Stop giving them credit for administration skills they didn’t have."

Satan for no reason at all:

NB Mammon: "Do I sound smart, or am I smart? "

NB Satan: "You sound unbearable, to be perfectly honest."

Leviathan being depressed:

NB Lucifer: "How are you today?"

NB Leviathan: "Please don’t make me think about my life."

Beelzebub being.. Beelzebub:

NB Beelzebub: "My stomach growled super loud in French."

NB Beelzebub: "I would like to clarify, my stomach did not speak in French. It growled during French class."

NB Leviathan: "Bonjour."

NB MC: "Le growl."

NB Mammon: "Hon hon hon, feed me a baguette."

NB MC now that they're a demon:

NB MC: "I am literally evil incarnate."

NB MC: "I’m not actually, I just enjoy being evil."

NB MC: "Which I think actually makes it even more evil because I’m making a conscious effort."

Solomon can't cook:

NB Solomon: "I truly go into househusband mode when I'm someone's soulhousemate- like, I'll make you pancakes and bacon every morning."

NB MC: "This is a lie."

NB MC: "I'm literally living with him. This is a lie."

NB MC: "HE DON'T EVEN KNOW HOW TO COOK A PANCAKE, WHAT IS THIS."

MC just wants to go home:

NB Solomon: "I think I'm falling for you."

NB MC: "Then get up."

Levi is sick of Satan:

NB Leviathan: "Satan is okay."

NB Beelzebub: "He's okay? He said he was going to break my legs! And don't tell me he didn't mean it, okay?! 'Cause he gave me the mackerel eyes, he meant it!"

NB Leviathan: "Beel, Satan threatened me. He threatens Lucifer every day. He probably threatened Diavolo before breakfast this morning. It's what he does. Grow a pair."

Levi self-deprocating:

NB MC: "I'm going the fight the next person who insults Levi."

NB Leviathan: "I hate myself."

NB MC: "Alright, square up."

When MC first came:

NB MC, referring to NB Mammon and NB Diavolo: "Those guys are dorks."

NB Lucifer: "Yes, but they’re my dorks."

Belphegor annoying Lucifer on purpose:

NB Belphegor: "Lucifer, we have a visitor."

NB Lucifer: "Don't tell me it's our babysitter.."

NB Belphegor: "It's MC."

Lucifer being sick of Mammon's shit:

Lucifer: "The greatest trick the diavolo's father ever pulled was changing his name to Mammon."

Mammon bc he's my fav pookie:

Mammon: "So... what would you do if you were in bed with me?"

MC: "Depends. Is your bed comfortable?"

Mammon: "Yes."

MC: "I'd sleep."

Thirteen is going insane:

Thirteen: "Sometimes I wonder if I’m hearing voices. Then I remember that’s the last bit of sanity I have trying to get me to fall asleep at a reasonable time."

Diavolo is far too concerned:

*after discussing a plan*

Barbatos: "Does anyone have any questions?"

Diavolo: "Is this legal?"

Barbatos: "Does anyone have any relevant questions?"

Satan loves to boast:

Satan: "I’m proud to identify as morosexual. I’m attracted to dumbasses and dumbasses exclusively. Someone asked me what the Spanish word for "tortilla" was once, and now I dream of kissing them under the moonlight."

MC: "What kind of animal is the Pink Panther?"

Satan, already taking off his clothes: "God, MC, you’re so fucking stupid."

It probably wouldn't work anyways:

MC: "Here’s the cold medicine you asked for." *dumps 3 shopping bags of wine on the table*

Thirteen: "...Thanks."

Levi and Garfield:

Leviathan: "I once tried to play a pirated copy of Garfield Kart, when Garfield jumped out of my PC! We are currently married with three beautiful children and a summer room in the basement of HOL with Cerberus."

Math doesn't work:

MC: "Which is correct, seven and five is thirteen, or seven and five are thirteen?"

Thirteen: "Niether."

Thirteen: "Because it's twelve."

Venomous or poisonous?:

Lucifer: "If you bite it and you die, it's poisonous. If it bites you and you die, it's venomous."

Mammon: "What if it bites me and it dies?!"

Lucifer: "Then you're poisonous. Jesus Christ, Mammon, learn to listen."

Diavolo: "What if it bites itself and I die?"

Lucifer: "That's voodoo."

MC: "What if it bites me and someone else dies?"

Lucifer: "That's correlation, not causation."

Asmodeus: "What if we bite each other and neither of us die?"

Solomon: "That's kinky."

Barbatos: "Oh my goodness."

:P done

[tragedy-of-commons]

no pickles

stellaron hunters & gn!reader | wc: ~750

In which they get your order wrong. Kafka, dear friend that she is, decides to make it known.

tags/warnings: crack, reader is not described, vague canon-typical violence, comedy, found family, everything is platonic

notes: oops updated formatting

When you first joined the Stellaron Hunters upon Elio’s suggestion (death threat), you never would have imagined the scene unfolding in front of you now.

Silver Wolf is double-dipping a greasy french fry into a dollop of ketchup. Kafka is dabbing her mouth with a napkin after her only sip of whatever soda she decided to humor, and Blade is standing guard by your table like some kind of intimidating fast-food sentry.

You, squished between all of them, lament your existence. Sam got to stay behind to “keep watch”, but you know the truth. His robot suit would terrify any children within a fifty mile radius, and this CosmiBurger is teeming with them. 

“Silver Wolf,” you mutter.

“I’m not sharing,” she answers immediately.

“That’s not what I–! Ugh, whatever. I was gonna ask why you chose this place for lunch. Don’t you think it’s a little below our pay grade?” “We don’t get paid, newbie. Elio doesn’t cover us eating out, so we have to be cheap.”

“You’re just saying that because you blew our budget on Roblox Premium,” you deadpan.

Kafka interjects. “Look on the bright side, hm? The novelty here is something we rarely get to experience - and I don’t think I’ve ever seen Bladie this happy.”

You spare a glance at your colleague. His scowl speaks for him.

Ignoring the fact that apparently Kafka’s got jokes now, you heave a sigh and poke at the lump of foil in front of you - a tangible warning of an impending stomach ache. The burger inside will have to serve as sustenance if you don’t want to wait twelve more system hours to eat.

Since Silver Wolf is now preoccupied with one of her handheld consoles, you don’t delay with your squabbling any longer. When you unwrap it and take your first bite, you’re blindsided by the overwhelming sour note of what can only be The Condiment That Shall Not Be Named. You can’t obscure the subsequent (ugly) scrunch of your brow and lips.

“Cyanide?” asks The Gamer That You Will Strangle One Day.

You glare at her and deposit your now even-more-unappetizing sandwich on the table. “You wish. They, uh, just got my order a bit wrong.” There’s a contemplative hum from your side that makes your heart skip a beat. Kafka stops playing with a strand of Blade’s hair to give you a coy smile. “Is that so?”

“Don’t look at me like that,” you complain. “It’s not a big deal, I’m just not a fan of pickles.”

“You should ask for a replacement. After all, you did mention that in your order,” she drawls.

You bristle. “I doubt the employees get paid enough to put up with that.”

Blade speaks for the first time today in that gruff tone of his. “You draw the line there? You’ll slaughter on command but stop at inconveniencing the working class?”

“Everyone’s picking on me! Smear campaign!” you accuse, pointing at the brooding man.

You don’t expect a reply from him, which he honors by staring at your outstretched finger with what could be described as murderous intent. Kafka chuckles.

“It’s the principle of the thing, darling. I’ll handle it.”

“Wai–”

You don’t get another word out before she confidently rises from her seat and saunters over to the register, leaving you with your jaw on the floor. 

Silver Wolf is back to blowing bubblegum and spawn-killing some poor sap, but she makes the time to snicker at your plight. “That’s weak, newbie.”

All you can do is become an idle passenger in your own body as the scene unfolds in front of you. Maybe you try to stop her, but Blade’s lanky arm blocks your path. 

Sometimes you wish she’d just have a little more fear. Kafka converses with the cashier with her innate allure as you resign yourself to your fate of public humiliation.

The words audible over the ringing in your ears sound through the air in Kafka’s dulcet voice.  “They asked for no pickles.”

When she returns from the counter two minutes later with your presumably correct order, you’ve already decided that today has been the most harrowing twenty-four system hours of your long-life. Your stupor is cut short as the new pickleless burger is dropped into your hands like a gift from the Aeons.

“See?” Kafka teases. “It was no trouble at all.”

“..Thanks,” you cough into your hand awkwardly.

Lunch resumes its usual flow, but you’re still stewing in regret that boils down to a simple, bitter thought: You should’ve just ordered the chicken nuggets instead.

[taurussbabe]

NSFW alphabet

note: first time doing something like this, hope you like it warning: obviously nsfw content, smut...

a = aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

After sex, Charles places feather kisses all over you

He loves to hold you tight and whisper sweet nothings to you until you fall asleep

He loves to clean you and if you’re going to sleep, he brushes your hair and braids your hair because he knows you don’t like to sleep with your hair down

b = body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Charles loves your legs

The moment he saw them, he knew he was a goner

He loves to leave a trail of kisses and hear the sounds you make when he does so

His favorite part of his body is his arms and hands

He loves how you get so excited every time you see him flexing his arms

Or how you grab onto his arms when he’s pounding into you

c = cum (anything to do with cum basically)

He loves to cum in you, that’s a fact

But also loves when you make him cum in your mouth

Seeing you lick your lips clean and swallow him, that truly turns him on again

He also adores to make you cum with your fingers and then put his fingers in your mouth so you can taste yourself

d = dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He never told you (and doesn’t plan on) but he thinks you’re so hot when you speak French

Not being your first language, he just loves how it rolls of your tongue

He would LOVE to do it on a plane

He never did it but he loves the idea, but you’re always with people on the plane, whether it’s going to races or holidays

He hopes to one day join the mile high club

e = experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Unlike what most people think, charles isn’t even that experienced

He had long term girlfriends so he was never really with a lot of people

But he DOES know what he’s doing

He knows exactly when and what do to in order to make you go crazy

f = favorite position (goes without saying)

Charles loves to see the faces you make when he makes you feel good

So he loves missionary

This way he can just whisper dirty things near your ears easily

Also, when he’s tired from his workouts or races, he woman on top or cowgirl

Where he can just lay down, and watch you take care of him

He enjoys watching you place your hands on his chest

This way he’s also able to grab your boobs while you’re riding him

g = goofy (are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc.)

Sometimes he says things in English that don’t mean what he think it does, that causes a laugh between the two of you

But usually he’s more serious and calm, determined to make you feel good

He also likes to think of himself as a romantic, so he doesn’t want to ruin the atmosphere between the two of you

h = hair (how well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)

Charles is well groomed, he likes to be trimmed but not completely bald

He also loves to make sure you’re comfortable with the length of his hairs and takes your suggestions into consideration

i = intimacy (how are they during the moment, romantic aspect…)

Charles is a romantic

He absolutely loves to kiss you, always

There isn’t one single time you have sex where he doesn’t kiss all of you

One time, he was trying to be so romantic he filled the room with roses and candles and even played soft romantic music in the background

That was definitely the best sex you two ever had

It was just so intimate and romantic

He loves to stop and look into your eyes, brushing a stray of hair behind your hear

j = jack off (masturbation)

When he’s away for too long and you cant join him in races he masturbates

But when he’s at home, you both satisfy each other pretty much, so he doesn’t need it

Sometimes you end up facetiming when he’s away, and you both get at it together

k= kink (one or more of their kinks)

C’mon, the man talks about having kids all the damn time, he obviously has a breeding kink

He loves to cum in you

And fuck his cum back into you with his fingers, obviously with your permission

l = location (favorite places to do the do)

He loves the bedroom, it’s basic, but he loves it

There no one will interrupt you guys and he loves to know that

Also loves the car

Like, it’s so impractical but he loves it

Going for a midnight drive and stop where no one can see you

m = motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Lingerie, RED lingerie

He absolutely loses his mind, seeing him in ‘his’ color

And when you say you bought it just for him, because it’s his color

Also, seeing you wear a Ferrari shirt to sleep, and noting underneath, except but some panties

After seeing you spend an afternoon with kids, whether it’s his cousins or yours

When you get home that night, he’s definitely gonna make love to you until the sun rises, whispering how much you would be a good mom, and that you would look so good pregnant

n = no (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Anything that would hurt you or leave bruises.

He just isn’t into that.

o = oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

He goes down on you a lot and he’s extremely good at that.

He prides himself in knowing he can make you cum from just his tongue.

He also likes when you go down on him, but prefers to be inside you so he prefers to go down on you

p = pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

It really depends on the mood.

Sometimes after a bad race, you tell him to take it out on you and he’s rougher and fast

But on those days where he’s all romantic he slow and sensual and wants to make it last as long as he can

Also, depending on your mood as well, if you had a bad day, you might want it fast but if you’re feeling emotional he’ll be super soft and slow with you

q = quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Likes them but doesn’t want to make a habit out of it

Like sometimes in the middle of the night if he wakes up hard, you’ll have a quickie.

Or after a race, just before interviews

r = risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Depends if you ask for something, he’ll think about it

s = stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

He HAS stamina

A bunch of it, don’t know if it’s from training or anything like that

But he can go on and on and ON

t = toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

He knows you own a little toy for when he’s away

He’s ok with it, but he doesn’t like that you use it when he’s home

u = unfair (how much they like to tease)

He LOVES to tease, he can do it for hours

But after he does it, you make sure to punish him, teasing him as well

And you like to tease him on your own as well, wearing a backless dress with a huge slit on your leg and then beg him to let him come

v = volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

He can get loud

But he loves to make you go crazy at the point you nearly have to yell

He groans loudly a lot

w = wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

You were laying in bed in the middle of the night, peacefully sleeping when charles wrapped his arm around you and woke you up with soft kisses on your neck

“I need you” he said “like physically need you”

He pressed his body onto you and you could feel his hard cock against you

“ok, love” you said and within seconds felt him push himself inside of you

“let’s just stay like this” you nodded and drifted off to sleep again and so he did

And in the morning, you did it properly but for that night, you just stayed like that the whole time

x = x-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

He’s definitely large, bit in girth and length

But more in girth than length

The first time you gave him a blow job you were scared you couldn’t do well because of his size

y = yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

You had sex a few times a week, not every day but certainly not a low sex drive

There was one time where you went on a holiday week just the two of you and had sex every single night until the sunrise

z = zzz (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

he loves aftercare so he makes sure you feel loved and valued before he’s ready to fall asleep, but he usually likes to watch you fall asleep first

But you drift off pretty quickly so it’s okay

[loveinhawkins]

The birthday gift Robin gets from her parents is that they’re gonna help her fund a three month solo trip to Paris. Steve thinks she should be delivering this news with much more excitement than she currently is.

“Okay, but you’re going, right?” he says, as she bites her nails for the third time. When she doesn’t reply, he lifts his eyes to the heavens, despairing. “Oh my god, are you kidding? Robin, you’ve wanted this for—”

“Years,” she confirms, so quietly. “I want—” She swallows. “I want it so badly, Steve.”

He pauses, drops their usual teasing schtick. “Okay,” he says, a little softer. “What’s going on?”

“It’s just…” She moves her hand away from her mouth, tugs on a hangnail. “What if—what if something… happens. And I’m not…” She gestures vaguely. “Not here.”

Steve slings an arm over her shoulder. “Rob,” he says, “nothing’s gonna happen.”

Robin nods. “I know, I know.”

But then she sighs, and Steve understands: it’s one thing to know something objectively, another thing to feel the certainty in your bones.

He has a wave of gratitude for Robin’s parents, for them knowing that she needs this, for letting her have a year out, maybe even two, without judgement. It’s something they all need, really, in different ways: some time to let the weight of everything settle, to catch their breath.

Steve’s honestly been relishing the mundanity of it all, the comfort of routine—easy days where the biggest ‘disaster’ is him being late for their opening shift at Family Video.

“Keith’s keeping your job open for you, right?” Steve asks, just in case that’s a sticking point.

Robin nods again, laughing. “Yeah, mom arranged that all before she even booked the flights. Well, I think she just basically told him that—”

“So it’s gonna be a super long vacation.” Steve gives her knee a reassuring little shake, before tickling the back of it. “Jesus, Robin, if you don’t go, I’ll go for you.”

Robin snorts and wiggles out of his grip. “Shut up.”

“And I’ll speak French so badly that I’ll just get banned for life, like, right outta the gate, it’ll be tragic—”

“I’ve got the picture, dingus,” she says, and she’s smiling—finally, finally there’s a spark of excitement in her eyes.

And that excitement only grows as her flight date gets closer, as she calls Steve the week before, begging him to be the one to take her to the airport, because, “My dad took one look at my suitcase and burst into tears, please Steve, the man can’t do this.”

And then Steve’s pulling up to her driveway, and she’s already waiting for him, perched on her suitcase. She’s wearing a cobalt blue beret, and Steve loves her so much he thinks his heart might burst with it.

For a while, it’s all grins and laughter, Steve giggling every time he edges out of the driveway, and Robin’s mom stops him, frantically waving, asking if Robin’s got everything, did you pack that other coat, honey?

Then it feels like time rushes forward—they’re at the airport, and Steve gets out of the car to fetch Robin’s case from the trunk, but she’s already got it, is already standing in the parking lot, eyes wide.

“What’s gonna happen now?” she whispers.

Steve’s heart clenches; the last time she’d asked that had been as they sped to the hospital, Robin gripping his hand so tightly as Eddie lay unconscious.

Steve puts both hands on her shoulders. “You’re gonna have the best time,” he says, deadly serious, “and then you’re gonna come back and tell me all about it.”

She laughs, right on the edge of becoming tearful. “O-okay.” She blinks several times.

“Don’t,” Steve says, faux-warningly, “or you’ll set me off, too.”

And it’s only partly a joke.

“Okay,” Robin says again, and then she’s hugging Steve tight, pressing a damp kiss to his cheek. “I’ll miss you.”

“God, me too. Every day.” Steve rocks her back and forth, makes sure her beret doesn’t get dislodged with the force of the hug.

When they break apart, Robin picks up her case—she pauses, then grins.

“Now, if you’ll just point me in the right direction…”

Steve chuckles. He spins her around so she’s facing the airport, then pats her on the back.

She starts walking.

Steve stays right where he is; he knows she’ll look back right at the last second—ah, there she goes. He shakes his head, laughs. Waves.

He drives back alone.

When he gets home, he barely has time to even think about it, because the kids have biked over after school, clamouring for him to order pizza from the moment he opens the front door, and Eddie’s shrugging apologetically with a grin, and it’s only later that Steve realises that the whole thing was probably coordinated beforehand.

And he’s fine, really, he’s absolutely fine until he steps into the hall to use the phone, and he unthinkingly orders the pizza him and Robin usually share: one half with pepperoni, the other half with mushrooms.

And then he has to finish the rest of the phone call with a lump in his throat, and when he hangs up, Eddie is watching him with a sad kind of smile.

“Oh, sweetheart.”

“Don’t. Don’t be nice to me, goddamn it.” Steve shuts his eyes. “I was fine, I was fine.”

“Hey, it’s okay.” Eddie knocks their foreheads together gently. “I’ll miss her, too.”

And God, missing Robin does hurt, but it’s nothing compared to the joy Steve feels whenever he receives a letter from her. He laughs himself stupid the first time, because instead of just using sheets of paper, she’s sent multiple postcards wrapped in an elastic band, her handwriting all squished so she can fit everything in.

She writes like she talks, all rambling enthusiasm, and Steve cherishes every word.

He can tell she’s having so much fun. She enthuses about little cafés she’s found, a bookstore near Notre Dame; she spends multiple pages on art galleries, how she has the time to wander, to look at a painting again and again until the meaning reveals itself, it was like when I solved that ‘crossword’ in the mall, it suddenly just clicked, you know? I need you here next time, you’ll look at it from another angle, I wanna know what you think.

She sends Polaroids, too. There’s one of her in a white shirt with a trilby hat at a jaunty angle—Steve can tell she’s been in the sun, because there’s freckles all over the bridge of her nose. On the back of the photograph, she’s written Had a carefree kiss!

And Steve cries when he reads it, because he knows what it means: that Robin’s often spoken wistfully about how she’s never got to have that fleeting summer kind of love, where nothing is all that serious.

But she’s still so young, and life is finally light, and she gets to have it now.

Other photographs are sent to Eddie, with instructions that he should translate the French Robin’s written on them, à force de pratique, on y arrive, mon cher Édouard!

“I said literally once that French at school wasn’t, like, the worst,” Eddie says, pouting. “Didn’t realise that meant she was gonna torture me from across the world.” He frowns at a picture of Robin petting a grey cat, a bowl of food at its little paws. “And I tried translating whatever the fuck she’s written here, but I can’t work it out.”

“Not even a guess?” Steve says.

“I mean, yeah, but it sounds so stilted, man, I know it’s wrong. Like, who actually says where the silver cat feeds—you dick, stop laughing! What’s so funny?”

Two months pass, and Robin’s back soon, but not soon enough to catch Steve’s birthday. It’s not like he wants to have a huge party, anyway—he goes to Wayne and Eddie’s for dinner, and discovers Dustin leading a not-so successful ‘secretly bake a birthday cake,’ meeting at Max’s.

Everyone’s on their second slice of cake when the phone rings, and Steve knows instantly who it is from the way Eddie shouts, “Huh? What?”, like there’s a delay on the line. Then he beams and shouts, “Steve! Got a long distance call for you.”

Steve’s over in a flash.

“I promise I’ve got you something,” Robin says, slightly muffled—every so often a word will cut out, but Steve gets the gist. “I swear, I’m not awful, I was gonna post it, but then I had no idea how many stamps I’d need, and I didn’t wanna risk losing it forever to, like, the nightmare limbo of customs, so I thought when I come back, I can—”

“Oh my god, shut up,” Steve laughs, “you didn’t need to get me anything. This is the best present ever.”

“Oh, gross,” Robin says cheerfully. “You’re all sentimental in your old age. Happy Birthday, Steve.”

“Thanks,” Steve says, and the lump in his throat is back, but it’s not so bad; he can breathe through it. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

And then there’s a sound that Steve at first thinks is just from the bad quality of the line, but then he realises it’s Robin trying to stifle a yawn; “Wait, Jesus, isn’t it, like, two in the morning over there? Go to bed!”

She doesn’t listen, of course—they keep chatting, everyone in the room wants a turn on the phone, Robin teasing Eddie relentlessly for his French pronunciation.

And as Steve ends the call, he finds that the hurt of missing her has faded away into something else—knowing that there’ll be comings and goings in their lives all the time, adventures they’ll share and adventures they won’t. But they’ll always, always find their way back to one another.

Steve sets the phone into its cradle, pictures Robin doing the very same so many miles away.

Yeah, we’re gonna be just fine, you and me, Steve thinks, and feels the certainty of it right in his bones.

[certainlynotasimp]

Just A Bite.

(Miguel O' Hara x Female! Reader)

A/N: Hello~ I got another Miggy and Sunny post for my beloved readers, and I think you'll like it. I'm still working on the request too, but I had this idea and I had to write it. Also if you want to be notified about this series, please leave a comment on this post, and if you wanna read more then check out my master list.

Also thank you guys for 100 followers! I really appreciate you guys so much and I hope you all stay with me on this journey!

Warnings: Grumpy x Sunshine, Barley any use of (Y/N) ((Sunny is a nickname, not her name)), Female pronouns, Miguel being a teasing mf, Gwen being a snoopy spider, Establish Relationship?, Fluff, a little break in canon, and Google translate Spanish ((please give me critique if you guys are fluent in Spanish because I don't know how to speak it.))

Still haven't seen the movie yet so excuse any inaccuracies.

“So are they?” Jessica stops picking at her salad as the younger SpiderWoman peers over her shoulder.

Turning her head slightly, it didn’t take her long to discover what the young protégé’s attention is focused on. 

The signature blue costume hugged the tall Spiderman as he stood several feet away from them. His normally dangerous talons were hidden by the two trays of food in each hand. His eyes were narrowed in annoyance as he seems to be hyperlinked on something. It didn’t take long before Jessica figured out who she needed to spot as the source of Miguel’s irritation. 

The black and white costume of the tiny spider caught her eyes first before she realizes that Peter B. Parker had enamored her attention away from Miguel.

 Well, not so much him, but the one-month-old Mayday Parker had the Spider Society's sunshine orbiting around her. Her little hand grasps around the digit of an older woman as Sunny cooes. A look of awe and sadness filled her eyes as the whole world seemed to disappear around her.

“Are they what?” Jessica asks as she turns her attention back to her lunch, mildly groaning as her little bug certainly didn’t appreciate the diet their daddy put them on. 

“Is Miguel and (Y/N) together?” Gwen repeats her question as she analyzes Miguel’s body language.

It was odd to Gwen as Miguel appeared to be annoyed that he had to hold their plates while waiting on her, but he didn’t make a move to say to rush along the tiny spider. In fact, Gwen nearly choked on her drink as she sees the longing gaze in his garnet eyes.

“To be honest…” Jessica catches Gwen’s attention again as she starts packing away her now empty tray with trash. “I’ve been a part of the Society for a long time, but Sunny was here before I was. Her and Miguel are kinda a packaged deal, but I have no idea if they are together.” Gwen tilts her head with a confused look on her face. She knew the older Spiderwoman was one of the first members of the Society when Miguel created it, but she didn’t know the cheery spider was here longer than Jess. 

“She was here before you?”

“She was here before all of us.” Peter interrupts as he plops in the seat next to Gwen. The infant was now quietly sleeping against her father’s chest with webbing holding her up. Peter steals one of Gwen’s french fries off of her tray as Gwen looked annoyed by him. “Miss Sunshine was the first spider Miguel recruited from what I heard, and I should know.” He plops the fry into his mouth as he chats. “I was the second.”

Jessica chuckles at Gwen’s shocked face at the realization as to how long the futuristic spider man has had his cheery companion. “Little bit wants to know if the big guy and Sunny are a thing or not?” Peter raises an eyebrow as he teases Gwen, “Why? You got a crush on one of them?”

“Ew, no. They are old and I’m 16. It's just they are always together and they seem like a couple, but they don’t do normal couple things.” Gwen whines as her face burns in embarrassment.

“First off, they are not old.” Peter scoffs as he runs a hand through his own graying hair. “Miguel is 28 and Sunny just turned 27.”

Jessica giggles as a memory pops into her mind. The look on Miguel’s face when his smaller companion brought him a cake she made for his birthday will forever be Jessica’s favorite moment since joining this team. Well, the second greatest moment. The slight teary-eyed look the leader gave to the bouncing spider as he had to endure her butchering the birthday song was also very funny. At least she can cook better than she can sing.

“And adult relationships aren’t like the ones you’ve seen in high school.” Peter sighs as he remembers the regretful decisions he made in high school. “They aren’t gonna make out in the hallways or tell each other that they love each other every five minutes.” “So they are together?” Gwen slaps Peter’s hand away from her fries, which causes the baby to stir. Peter hastily bounces the baby as he throws Gwen a glare.

“Oh, I have no idea,” Peter answers honestly as Gwen plops her head on the table. “Why don’t you ask them?”

Jessica smiles fondly as Mayday stares at Peter as he finally starts eating his own food. Her hand wanders to the growing baby bump as she looks into Gwen’s frustrated gaze. “Never hurts to ask. But I suggest asking Sunny because Miguel will deny everything.”

~~~~

“Miss. (Y/N), are you dating Spiderman?” Gwen rehearses to herself as she wanders down the corridor, trying to find her cheery colleague. Gwen groans as rubs her face in frustration, hating all the ideas she came up with sounded childish. How do you ask a grown woman if she is dating her boss? Especially if you’re mutant superheroes who travel to different dimensions and fight anomalies in bright spider costumes.

Just as Gwen rounds a corner, a series of grunts fall into her ears as she draws closer to the combat simulator. One of Lyla’s ideas for the HQ was to include a training room with the ability to use advanced AIs to simulate how fighting in different dimensions. She also thought it would be a fun idea to make it a level system so Miguel can review their abilities and hand out missions appropriate for the skill sets. Gwen attempted to fight in there several times, but she always gets her ass handed to her once she reaches level 3. 

Reaching the door, she peers into the window and sees a disheveled Miguel as he stood in his spider suit in a barely lit simulation. His back to her, she can see his shoulders heave as he pants for a breath of relief in this difficult setting. Despite his lack of spidey sense, Gwen knew he was pretty agile and was one of the strongest Spidermen they had. His talons emerge as his mask disintegrates. His fangs shine in the dim lighting as he looks around the room, looking for something. 

Hunting for something.

She ducks when Miguel looks her way before peeking her head back up. Before she can realize what’s going on, a flash of white gets whipped at the menacing spider, causing him to shred the opposing webbing to bits. Miguel focuses on the direction the attack came from as a smirk rolls onto his face as he approaches his invisible prey. His eyes a dangerous red as his mischief and hunger grows at the anticipation.

“¿Dónde estás, mi pequeña araña?” The predator purrs as his gaze locks on a particular corner. Gwen could barely hear it, but a faint sound of panting, of his prey trying to catch her breath. “No me dejarías esperando demasiado, ¿verdad? Extraño desesperadamente tu dulce rostro, querida.”

Miguel saunters slowly towards the faint sound, a glint of victory shining in his eyes as the smell of her perfume floats into his nose. His smirk turns into a deviously sweet smile as he cracks the bones in his hand. “Especialmente cuando estás gimiendo tan dulcemente debajo de mí…” He mumbles as he finally lunges toward the corner. Gwen puts a hand in her mouth to hide the gasp as he pounces but tilts her head in confusion as his hunt turns sour.

Miguel looks equally stunned for a moment when he realizes that nothing was in his grasp. He pats around the corner to make sure before his hand gets caught on something. He growls as he tries to free his hand upon realizing that it was a trap. A flash of white traps the other hand to the wall above the other as the air rings with giggles. 

“Caught you, Miggy!~” A voice cheers from above as both Miguel and Gwen look up to the ceiling. In a faint glow of green, the victorious smile of the small jumping spider appears out of thin air. Unexpectedly, Miguel meets her smile with a warm chuckle as the hints of a smile appear on his face. “You certainly did, little one.” He sighs as the woman hops down and lands in a crouch position in front of him. Gwen smiles at the adorable display until the older woman leaned over to Miguel’s shoulder. Miguel flinches slightly with a flush of red covering his face as Gwen realizes what just happened.

‘Did she just bite him?!’ Gwen thought as she stared at the smiling duo in bewilderment. 

“Think its going to leave a mark?” He commented as he watches in amusement as his sunshine glares at him.

“It better! Yours are gonna take forever to heal.” She huffs as she stands up. Miguel rolls his eyes and chuckles at her attempt to appear annoyed. 

“It's not that bad…” “NOT THAT BAD?!” Sunny blurts out, interrupting the amused man.

The top part of her costume disintegrates, exposing her tank top underneath as Gwen had to stop herself from shouting in shock. Littering the small spider’s frame were 5 large bruising bite marks, each featuring two distinct puncture wounds. Gwen looks up at the panel beside the door and sees they are on level 6 of 1v1 combat simulation. The realization dawns on the teenager as her face turns an unflattering shade of red. Before she can witness anymore, Gwen teleports out of the corridor as the duo sees the flash of orange. 

“What was that?”

“I don’t know, but whoever it was is gonna be on trash duty for a month”

~~~~~

“So you ever asked her about if she and Miguel are-”

“No, and I’ll never try to figure that out again.”

~~~~~~

A/N: Please please let me know what else you guys wanna see or throw me some critiques. I love hearing from you all!!

~~~~~~

Taglist:

@ameliadraws 

@tojisrightnut

@whyareyoubored

@silly-lovestruck-em

@luvil1y

@chims-kookies

@himesuedi

@22carolina08

[pinkaditty]

Beauty (Twisted Wonderland, Rook Hunt)

tiptoes into blog again but steps on a comically placed whoopee cushion and alerts the entirety of my eagerly awaiting readers

hey hi hi sorry this is 2 let you all know that i am ALIVE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I AM ALIVE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! i had 2 disappear 2 focus entirely on my studies bc i was due 2 graduate with honors soon and i needed 2 have ALL my work completed lol! anyways, im glad 2 say that soon i will be the proud owner of an early bachelor’s degree in pre-med. this honors thesis better look STUNNING on my fucking resume. 

a/n: anyways YES im working on ur asks now that i have more free time yaaaaaaaaay!!! in the meantime enjoy this lol i wrote it entirely on a whim bc i saw the new rook card on twt and was like “hm. okay fine ass.” anyways let it be known i know VERY LITTLE about book 7 and Rook in general (ive seen spoilers but i don’t actively seek them out, plus i don't have the game anymore bc free palestine, fuck disney), so this might be ooc or an unusually placed scenario. please let me know how i can improve!

summary: rook’s back to his old self. he’s not sure of himself, but you have some choice words. 

cw: suggestive!!!!!!!! minors DNI!!!!!!!!!, book 7 spoilers i think, gn!reader (specifics of reader’s physical attributes are not mentioned, but Rook uses the masculine French word for "dear"), NOT PROOFREAD!!!!.

MINORS DNI AS PER USUAL THIS IS SUGGESTIVE!! THANK YOU FOR RESPECTING MY BOUNDARY!!!

“Well, I admit… the version of me you see standing before you, cher, was not me at my prime…”

You stare curiously at the man before you. Unmistakably, this was Rook. Same French accent, albeit with a harsher twang, same upturned green eyes, same haunting, knowing smile. It was Rook, without a doubt. But, he was different. He looked different. His uniform wasn’t Pomefiore- it was Savanaclaw. His hair was longer and wilder, choppy bangs and uneven waves falling in his face and along his back. His skin was darker, a light tan present on his usually pristine, pale skin. Freckles dotted the bridge of his nose and crest of his cheeks, and a smattering of them was found on his shoulders and neck. He didn’t stand quite as tall; rather, he stood with a slight slouch. Bending forward just slightly, piercing green eyes peering at you from beneath the shadow of  a wide-brim brown hat. Strangely, like this, he appeared considerably more predatory. 

Suddenly, him previously being in Savanaclaw made sense. 

However, this spurred a question in you. Not about his decision to change dorms, but about his words.

“What do you mean, not at your ‘prime’?”

You furrow your brows in confusion as you stare back at him, searching for answers. This Rook- with far more obvious muscle definition and hardened expressions- seemed quite at his fully-functioning peak. You step towards him, your eyes raking over his form, lingering at his rough, calloused hands on his hips, at his broad, freckle-covered chest, and at his perfect cupid’s bow, where a stray freckle laid. “Mon trickster,” he speaks, the sharp twang of his accent making you shiver. His lips rise into a knowing grin. Your eyes snap back up to his eyes, glued to you in irony. “It’s rude to stare.”

Your cheeks heat up only for a moment, but you wave him off. “Rook…” You start, giving him one more once over before glancing away again, not wanting to get too caught up in observing his proportions. “I don’t think this isn’t your prime. If anything…” You turn to him again, looking him in the eyes. You roll your bottom lip between your teeth before hurriedly spitting out the words before you could regret them. “...I think you’re beautiful.” 

You would expect Rook, of all people, to be unfazed by these words. However, he seems a bit taken aback, his eyes widening and his posture straightening, before he leans back forward again, his predatory smirk stretching wider across his face. “Merci, mon chéri, however, I do believe-”

“I mean it.” You quickly interrupt him, stopping him from beginning a self-depricating tirade of how unaccustomed he used to be to the concept of beauty. “I think you’re beautiful like this.” You face him head-on, your heart pounding loudly in your ears. This shouldn’t feel like confessing, but strangely, it does. 

Now it’s Rook’s turn to blush. His smile fades, his eyes going from knowing to gentle curiosity. The warm redness of the blush spreads across his tan cheeks, accentuating the darkness of his freckles. Something about that is endearing to you, and for a moment, you are emboldened. 

You step closer to him, to which he instinctively steps back, maintaining space while his senses are momentarily thrown off by his reaction to your praise. However, he doesn’t get to do that for long. He stumbles back into a stool, gripping onto its edge as he falls onto it, surprised. He would have known that was there, if not for your closeness and persistence. You move even closer, placing a knee between his thighs on the stool, boosting your height and leaning in to grab his face. He freezes, momentarily shocked by your bold actions, but he soon relaxes, his shoulders falling and his breathing returning to normal. He looks down, his eyes becoming hooded before he looks up at you again, his emerald gaze more alluring than before. He bites his lip before speaking, probably to distract you. Admittedly, it almost works. “Mon trickster…” He speaks again, and you wonder how anyone got used to hearing him speak, when such a harsh twang in a smooth accent contradicted so perfectly. He breathes shakily, a blush returning to his face. You deduced he was definitely trying to lure you in. “You’re being… awfully bold today. May I ask what’s brought this on-”

“Your imperfections are what makes your beauty!” You don’t shout, but you do raise your voice, ensuring his words are drowned out. Being this close to him makes you somewhat nervous, but you stand your ground, pressing your palms a little more into the flesh of his cheeks. He blinks at you confusedly, waiting for you to speak. You open your mouth to speak, but close it just as quickly, letting out a few false starts before sighing. You look away, taking a deep breath, before steeling yourself and facing him once more. Slowly, you let your eyes take in his face, until your gaze reaches his freckles, prominent against his tan skin. You find yourself stroking his freckles with your thumbs, gently tracing the nonsensical patterns in which they appear. You finally find your confidence again, and speak without thinking. “Your freckles and tan don’t tell me that you had bad or sensitive skin- they tell me that you loved the sun.” Your voice is so gentle it surprises yourself, not whispered, but low, and filled with a strange intimacy. 

His eyes widen at your words, his lips parted. He breathes shakily, but something about it is genuine this time. His eyes remain fixated on yours, his thick eyebrows downturned in a strange mix of melancholy and yearning. You stroke his face more, and he relaxes, closing his eyes and letting you hold him. You begin to breathe shakily yourself, your body flushing with heat and your fingers beginning to tremble just slightly. You move your right hand from his cheek to his hair, not once lifting your palm. Your fingers gently move through his hair, holding the back of his head, and he leans into your touch, exhaling as your pinky brushes the back of his neck. You lean in as well, following him as he follows your touch. He opens one eye to peer at you curiously, gauging your next action. When you gently pull at his waves, his eye snaps shut again, and he disguises a moan as a throaty exhale. You speak again, led purely by the spur of the moment. “Your uneven bangs and wild hair don’t tell me that you didn’t care for it- it tells me that you took the time to let it grow, and chose not to restrict what was yours.” You say this close to his neck, your lips gently brushing against the shell of his ear. He shivers, gripping the stool harder.

You begin to pull back, keeping your palms to his skin. You move your right hand back to his cheek, where your left hand still rests on his other one. You pause for a moment before drifting both hands downwards, your palms and fingers tickling his jaw and neck. He leans his head back to allow you access, sighing quietly at the feeling. You gently trail your palms and fingers down his neck before finally resting at the base. You then gently drag your hands to his shoulders and squeeze them, looking up at him. His blush still remains, and his lips are still parted, his breathing still shaky. He gazes at you expectantly, as though eagerly awaiting your next bit of praise. You lean towards his face and press your forehead to his, looking down at his shoulders. “Your slouch does not tell me that you had bad posture- it tells me that you were shyer, and didn’t take pride in your appearance.” You begin to trail your palms down his shoulders, your fingers feather-light on his skin in their wake. He shivers at the gentle stimulation, closing his eyes again. His breathing gets heavier and shakier, and you begin to feel heat pool within you once more. You pull your head back, straightening up as your stare at him. Leaning your face close to his, you continue to trail your palms down his arms, your fingers lightly pressing into his muscles, mapping out the structure of his body. Eventually you lift your palms, using only your fingers to trail down his forearm, tracing the insides of his wrists. He hardly flinches, likely expecting this, but still shivers at the sensation. “It also tells me…” You continue, your lips mere inches from his, but not daring to move any closer, staring at his cupid’s bow and blonde lashes. Your fingers reach his hands, and you gently pry them from their grip on the stool, moving them to his lap, palms up. You trace your fingers along his rough, calloused palms and fingers, making shapes and patterns. “...That you took more pride in the things you did with your hands.” You press your palms into his and his eyes flutter open, not surprised to find you mere inches from his face. He exhales, his blush deepening. He blinks at you, knowing you still weren’t finished yet. 

“Your imperfections lead me to your beauty. That’s why…” You trail off, lifting one hand from his palm and caressing his cheek once more. “...You’re beautiful.”

You begin to pull back, closing your eyes and quickly moving away, beginning to move your knee from between his thighs on the stool. However, he quickly grabs you, his fingers gripping the back of your uniform as he pulls you in. Your knee follows your movements, pushing into his inner thigh on the stool. He sharply inhales, looking down, before looking back up at you with hooded eyes. His eyes still look expectant, as though he still wants more.

“Mon trickster…” He says lowly, pulling you in further. Your knee presses harder against his inner thigh and your upper body closer towards his. He breathes shakily, moving one hand from the back of your uniform to the front, bunching some of it in his grasp. He tilts his head towards you, and you can feel his breath on your lips as your eyes lock with his. Heat flushes through your body again.

“Are there any other… imperfect beauties… that I possess, that you’d like to point out to me?”

rejoice! entertainment be upon ye!

a/n: okay but seriously, i hope u all enjoyed! i wrote this in like,, a few hours? for reference it is like. 5:45 am where i am as i type this LOLLLL! i was up lateee bc i no longer have schoolwork which meansss every spare second i have that im not working working, ill be doing these. anyways! please please pleeeeaaaasssseee leave a like, comment, and a reblog if u liked it! i love 2 know that u loved my work! ik its been a while but i promise 2 try 2 be more active… i swear!! oh, and leave an ask if u have any ideas about other things i should write!

[iznyangwoni]

EASY TO LOVE | chapter eighteen !

You dont know what’s gotten to you. The first thing you wanted to do when Jungwon said those words was to slap him, then you wanted to kiss him, but you instead decided to shake your head and not believe him.

He doesn’t like you, he can’t like you. You ruined his best friend’s life, kept so many secrets from him, used him like some sort of toy to play with just because he was the new guy. You suck, you’re a bad person, he can’t and won’t ever like you.

At least that’s what you keep repeating to yourself, now hiding in the backseat of your car and crying like a baby. Your hands are so dirty because of your makeup, you dont even want to think how much of a mess your face looks like.

Someone knocks on the window and your tears seem to fall with more force when you see Moka and Wonyoung with a huge box of french fries in their hands. You let them in your car, but with all the hiccups and cries getting out of your mouth it’s not really that easy for you to speak.

“Okay, okay. Y/n. It’s not the first time a guy said something like that to you, why are you acting like this now?” The truth is pretty simple actually. You didn’t care about those guys, but you do care about Jungwon. “Yeah! You should be happy he likes you back!” Wonyoung gently slaps Moka’s arm at ther words, that only make you cry even harder.

“I don’t know,” You start, pushing the tears away from your face. You take a deep breath, your head hurts like crazy, like it always does when you cry. “I dont know how to make it up to him, i dont want him to be mad at me but i can’t just the tell him the truth or-“ Wonyoung sighs and, before you can finish your sentence, she puts a couple of french fries in your mouth.

“Don’t you dare say what i think you were going to say.” You sniff up with your nose, and you start eating calmly. Moka’s hands are on your hair, braiding them and playing with them, she knows how much it soothes you, so, slowly, you manage to calm down. Every once in a while a couple of tears fall down but you’re no longer praying for some air.

“Y/n, no matter what your father said to you, what happened last year is not your fault.” Wonyoung says, somehow she always knows the right things to say, she’s so much more mature than you are, you’re glad to have these two as your friends. “Besides, if you want things with Jungwon to work out, i feel like you should tell him.”

“It wouldn’t work out anyway.” you dont mind what Moka suggested, but there’s so many things that could go wrong between you and Jungwon, your secret is not the only thing keeping you apart. “First of all, i ruined his best friend’s life-“ “He wouldn’t be friends with her if he knew what happened.” Wonyoung stops you, and as smart as that sounds, you dont think Jungwon would go that far for you.

“But there’s still that thing about my father and his mother owning rival companies.” That’s what scares you the most, your father is not a comprehensive one, nor has he ever been a good person either, who knows how he would react to you dating his rival’s son. Or to you dating in general. “You’re an adult, Y/n. Date who you want, you can’t be on your father’s shadow all your life.”

You nod at their words, it should be obvious, but its not that easy for you, still, you are an adult, so maybe you could get over it. “But what if Jungwon doesn’t believe me?” “Oh. My. God.” Moka lets go of your hair and cups your face instead, you still have a fry in your mouth but she doesnt seem to care.

“Y/n. I’m gonna be dead serious when i say this; I’ve never seen a man look at you the way Jungwon does, its like he holds all the love you didnt get in these twenty years of your life in his eyes i swear to god its disgusting and so fucking cute at the same time, open your damn eyes!” Moka has to catch her breath when she finishes.

The car becomes silent suddenly, Moka isn’t usually the type to say these kind of things, which takes both you and Wonyoung by surprise. What startles you even more is the way people see you and Jungwon from the outside. You have to look up to not cry again, your lips pouted and trembling. “Fuck, i need to talk to him.” “Yes you do.” They both say.

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[sweetlittleneptune]

"You speak French??"

The translations were made by me, as I'm a native French speaker! tho, if you have any issues/questions/see any mistakes, don't be afraid to point them out!

The fact that you never admitted to speaking French to the residents of the mansion was a simple lie of omission. You didn’t think it was that important at first, and then you also noticed how much of an advantage that was. This meant you could spy on some of residents without much trouble at all. Sadly, the charade couldn’t last forever.

NAPOLEON

He had a habit of rambling in French to himself. Random thoughts, most of them unimportant and simple little reminders to do something later. But every once in a while, he would mumble something that caught your attention, and you’d have to hold in your laughter. He had to stop though, once he realized you understood what he was saying and was absolutely humiliated.

It had been a rough day, and the man was frustrated. Between the bickering kids and the eccentric residents, he was practically boiling. That was reason enough to be mumbling insults and such.

“C’est juste des cons. Pas capable de se la fermer, tous inutiles.”

(They’re just idiots. Can’t shut up, useless.)

And it came out before you could even think about it. You just had to.

“Quand même, c'est un peu méchant M. Napoléon. Mais je l’admets… ils sont un peu lourds.”

(Well, that’s a bit rude Mr. Napoleon. But I’ve got to admit… they are a bit annoying)

The look on his face was absolutely priceless. Surprise, confusion, worry, all of it. Napoleon opened his mouth once, then closed it. he reopened it again and closed it once more. Third time’s the charm they say…

“Since when…?”

“Ah, that’s my little secret. Just don’t tell the other, will you?”

Suspicion crossed his face.

“Why?”

“You know, it’s a great advantage to have. Would be a shame to lose it.”

“You’re a devil Nunuche, but a smart one I’ll admit.”

And with a chuckle he left the room

COMTE DE SAINT-GERMAIN

You intended to tell him at first. When he started bringing you to all those dinners, galas, and parties for the aristocrats of the city. You wanted to speak with him and the other attendants. But as soon as they heard the accent in your “bonsoir”, they switched to English, and you rolled with it for some reason. Now it had been months, and you felt it would be weird to start speaking French now.

You were used to being ignored in conversations too. None of it was on purpose and you couldn’t take it personally when Comte was such a popular man to begin with! What you weren’t used to, though, was being disrespected right in your face as if you weren’t there.

The first comment had been something along the lines of “you finally found someone to give you a son!”

Your husband was quick to answer that he had chosen you because you were you. It had nothing to do with kids.

The second almost made you open your mouth. But it was no use. Comte made very sure to let him know he was crossing a limit and ended the conversation there.

“Some people lack manners, it seems. No use wasting more time on this unimportant discussion.”

You simply nodded and followed.

But then you wanted a little treat to eat, and the buffet was on the other side of the room. So, you left Comte for a moment to grab something. Sadly, the same man from earlier was there, chatting away with someone you didn’t know. As soon as he saw you, you knew something unpleasant would happen.

“Elle n’est rien de bien spécial, mais j’imagine qu’elle doit être particulièrement bonne au lit si le Comte de Saint-Germain a décidé qu’elle était bonne à marier. »

(she’s nothing special, but I guess she’s particularly good in bed if the Count of Saint-Germain has decided to make her his wife.)

You pondered for a moment if you should even grace him with an answer. It wouldn’t do any good, you knew that. But if the man had the galls to say it, he surely could listen to your answer, no?

“Monsieur, j’apprécierais sincèrement que vous vous absteniez de m’insulter en ma présence. Et puis, ce sont de riches paroles, venant de l’homme dont la femme est reconnue pour avoir plusieurs amants. Au moins, l’un de nous sait satisfaire son partenaire… "

(Sir, I would appreciate if you could hold back from insulting me in my presence. And this is rich, coming from the man whose wife is known to have several lovers. At least, one of us can satisfy their spouse…)

Red rose to the man’s face.

“Eh bien, je crois que le message est clair! 

(Well, I think the message is clear!)

Comte’s voice made you jump in your place. You hadn’t heard him coming at all! You turned to look at him with shyness in your eyes, a bit worried he would scowl you for your action. But all he did was look at you with pride.

As you left though, he did ask where you learned to speak French.

“A while back, in my world.”

JEAN D'ARC

That night you were staying up late to clean up after one of Leonardo’s raids of the library. It was rotten work for sure, but someone had to do it and Sebastian was finishing up polishing of the silverware. So here you were, going through piles of books left on tables.

Time passed and after a while of not hearing any noise, you figured it wouldn’t hurt to sit down and read for a few minutes. There was a book that had caught your attention while cleaning up. It was a little book of French fables. Some of which you remembered reading back in school when you were young. Slowly, the stories caught your attention for good and the world around you faded.

That’s when Jean entered the room, in the hopes of finding some peace and some books to help him learn to write and read. Still hooked on your little island of nostalgia, you didn’t hear him at all. And him, not wanting to bother you, stayed in his little corner of the library.

An hour must have passed before your eyes left the pages of the book. But when you did, you were surprised to find you weren’t alone anymore. And you felt a bit cheap about being caught slacking on your job.

“I didn’t hear you come in, Jean. What are you doing here?”

“I’m trying to read this book. But it’s hard, I don’t understand much…”

The poor man was trying to read “Les Misérables”, of course he was having a hard time understanding what all those fancy words meant! You held your chuckle in and handed him your fable book.

“You might find this one easier to read. You picked a rather daunting book to try to learn.”

“Oh but… you know I speak French mademoiselle. Your book-” You smiled.

“Take a look at the cover. What does it say?”

It took him a minute to decipher the sounds and the words, but he managed to read the title out:

“Les fables de La Fontaine.” Jean paused. “It’s in French…”

“Yes, it is.”

“You can read French?” there was curiosity in his eyes.

“Oui, mais pas que. Je le parle aussi.”

(Yes, but that’s not all. I can speak it too.)

“Je ne savais pas. Vous ne l’avez jamais dit.”

(I didn’t know. You never told us)

“It’s my little secret,” you answered with a smirk. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I should finish cleaning Leo’s mess.”

“Merci.”

“Bienvenue!”