#he only knows like English and Spanish BUT he’s picked up on a lot of other languages too due to his misadventures | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ladyelissarose · 9 months

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‘Beautiful Baby’

Miguel O’Hara x female girlfriend reader

‘Reader speaks Spanish’

Summary; After coming back from a rough ‘Girls Night’ with your friends, you try to keep strong and not cry after everything they told you.. and Miguel wouldn’t know anyways.. he wasn’t there.. but Spider-Man was around indeed. And unbeknownst to you, Miguel and Spider-Man understood Spanish- Very well.

Warnings: lots of Spanish, but everything is translated. hurt/comfort. mean friends- ‘kinda going through a thing so yeah’ Sm- SMUT!! NSFW 18+!! Some public sex. Miguel giving it all to you in pleasure ;) Spanish words Ah e translations in parentheses. Enjoy ;)

Mostly darkness surrounded your- Miguel and your’s apartment when you walked in, only the bright city lights of the NYC night brightened it up a bit.. letting you see your walkway clearly. Silence filled the your little safe haven, only your feet hitting the floor was what could be heard, along with the little sniffles you let out from crying all the way home in the taxi. But you did your best to quiet them down so Miguel wouldn’t hear you, you knew his sorta spider senses could pick it up if he was home. But you were sure he wasn’t, but either way you knew he’d question you about it… and you weren’t ready to admit he was right, even with the tears steaming down your face.

Miguel had told you not to go on that ‘Girls Night’ date your friends had set up, but you were eager because it had been a while sense you girls got out of high school and started your new, different lives, plus you thought he was being delusional about them being different perhaps and not the same, cute girlies as before. But… he wasn’t being delusional.. he was right.. as your memory recalled tonight painful events. The most hurtful words they told you engraved in your head.

—-

“Oh, estoy segura de que sería una mejor chica para él… I’d be a better fuck probably-“ (Oh I'm sure I'd be a better girl for him)

“Have you seen how big he is? Estoy segura de que podría llevarnos a dos a la vez..” (I'm sure he could take us two at once)

“¿Cómo podría estar contigo? Debe ser ciego.” ( How could he be with you? Must be blind.)

“You’re probably just a stupid fuck-toy to him girly, Nunca puedes ser lo suficientemente buena para él.”

(You can never be good enough for him.)

In that moment you had wished some God had heard your cries for them to stop, or for someone to say something otherwise.. but for now your felt ignored and hurt..

——

Tears came down again as you walked into your dark room, not expecting to yelp at the large shadow that stood in front of the large windows in your room. Miguel was supposed to be out all night, crime-fighting the city as he usually did, not back home just a few hours later. Your hand rested above your erratic beating heart as you turned the bed side lamp on, and there he was… standing in his tight shorts he wore under his suit.

Had it been any other time you would’ve jumped him and not let him leave you until you both were well spent, you’d be insulting him if you said he ‘just’ looked ‘good’. But he was magnificent, body sculpted like a god, his messy hair that had a rebellious strand on his face, chiseled jawline and sharp eyes… he was perfect-

But-

You frowned in confusion at his presence instead, not wanting to face his beauty with your messed up self, but before you could ask anything, he spoke out,

“Cómo estuvo tu noche?” (How was your night?)

Shock took over you, making you drop your heels with your jaw slacked a bit open… you didn’t know Miguel spoke Spanish- perfect Spanish. He only spoke to you in English and when you occasionally did use Spanish, he always pretended to not know unbeknownst to you.

You then swallowed down the shock and played the pretend game as you lied,

“It went… perfectly well actually-“

"Crees que soy estúpido?" (Do you think I’m stupid?)

Your eyes went wide like baseballs as your breath hitched.

'What the fuck?-'

"Estoy hablando contigo." (I’m talking to you.)

You only moved your head as you shook it, signifying that you were saying no. But he didn't take that as he growled softly,

"Usa tus palabras.” (Use your words)

Your eyes still didn’t dare to meet his that were probably red already, with anger perhaps, maybe hatred? So you kept them low as you replied,

“No sir-“

“Nuh-uh uh… como les hablaste a ellos, me hablas a mí. en español. Ahora, sigue amor.” (Like how you spoke to them, you speak to me. In Spanish. Now, go on love.)

You fiddled with the hem of your dress and gulped, still in shock he spoke another language- very hotly in fact.

“No señor.” (No sir.)

Miguel noticed that you were growing nervous, legs shaking and your hands couldn’t stop moving. He didn’t want you to feel nervous, but he wanted you to understand the depth of how serious this is.

The mistreatment towards you and how you took it like you deserved it, or like it was something ok and normal? His heart couldn’t take it, how could someone as sweet and gentle as you be treated so poorly? And then you did nothing about it, instead you showed fear and submission to it.

And that pissed him off, your lack of confidence and belief that you’re not worthy or good enough, after all this time that he’s showered you with love and assurance, never ending loving words that could drown you, touches that only he gave and wished were carved into your skin by this time.

Miguel walked up to you slowly, his muscles rippling with every step he took. You couldn’t deny how beautiful of not ridiculously hot he was, but you were still nervous, and it evidently showed. And he didn’t miss how you were moving uncomfortably in your place, and your eyes darting to his hands and pace nervously. But he kept that thought aside but not far, as he proceeded to do talking first.

“Segura? Entonces esas lágrimas no son reales? No estás llorando porque esas chicas te hicieron sentir como basura?”

(You sure? So those tears aren't real? You're not crying because those girls made you feel like trash?)

Heavy stones sat in your throat, you wanted to cry, because of course, you were caught lying because he was around, hearing you let yourself be mistreated.

You then tried to turn it on him to serve justice to your bubbling emotions as you questioned,

“You were-“

“En Español..” (In Spanish)

You groaned and replied in perfect Spanish, sense that was what he wanted,

“Me estabas espiando-“ (You were spying on me)

“No, te estaba viendo dejarte maltratar y estoy decepcionado-“ (No, I was watching you let yourself be mistreated and I'm disappointed)

You rolled your eyes trying to fight the pain of how true it was and how Miguel was disappointed in you because of it. But you none the less argued back,

“Ellas solo estaban siendo tontos y yo estaba siendo estúpida-“ (They were just being silly and i was being stupid)

Again with the demeaning yourself- and that set him off. His eyes glowed brighter as he took another step closer to you and expressed his anger in it,

“What? Why are you talking about yourself like that-“

Ok you were not doing this, you weren’t ready to commit to the fact that you were better, because right now you didn’t feel like it at all, regardless of what someone else said or did- so you thought.

So you then stood up straight and stopped his speech before it went on,

“I’m not hearing this, I’m tired and you have a city that’s more important to worry about than my insecurities. Goodnight Miguel.”

With that you took a good few steps away from Miguel, ready to hide and break fully.

It’s not that you were afraid to cry in front of Miguel, but this situation with your self and those words was something so repetitive and harmful, and you didn’t know how to fight it, sometimes it even scared you. You knew Miguel would slay them all or anyone who dared to touch you, to keep you and the heart he chased safe. And the last thing you wanted was more problems… as it is they think you don’t deserve him.

You had barely reached the door to touched the knob when a large hand held your waist and turned you around, pushing your back against the door. A gasp left your lips at the sudden gesture, and your eyes beheld Miguel’s form as he stood in front and over you, his height and broad, muscled body covering you entirely. His hand left your waist after giving a squeeze, wordlessly telling you, ‘stay there’.

Then slowly both his hands trailed up the door and held their place next to your head, caging you in. The whole time you two held eye contact, refusing to let go or even blink, the tension was really high, along with everything else you two felt for one another. You still felt emotional, very in fact as your eyes burned and your heart would clench in hurt, the desperation to cry was clawing you painfully, eager to escape with a heavy sob. But you bit your lip and held Miguel’s gaze, hoping to find strength for yourself through his eyes of honey and undeniable firmness. With a calm voice he stared into your soul, and asked,

“You know who you are.. right?”

You almost rolled your eyes as you sighed,

“I’m-“

“My beautiful baby.. and that’s it. No more or less... you’re not just a fuck-toy. Because I make love to you, every god damn time.”

How Miguel saw you like this confused you, you honestly believed you were not good enough for him, in any way. Tears started to prickle in your eyes, so immediately you shook your head and mumbled,

“I don’t think so.”

Slightly you pushed him away by the shoulder but just enough to give you space to go out the door, not willing once again to accept his truth. But once again you were met against Miguel when he lifted you by the waist and carried you away from the door, muttering,

“If you don’t want to learn I’ll teach you how important you are to me- the city can wait.”

“Miguel put me down!!”

You were being a bit rebellious although you were curious as to what he’d do, so eventually you let yourself be carried, but dead weight. Although Miguel never struggled a bit or didn’t even change his calm breathing, you worked like a feather to him. He just went on to open the large window doors you had that pointed towards the bright city and brought you out to the balcony. Your eyes were met with the tall skyscrapers that stood before you, glistening in brights lights from the city below, you sucked a deep breath at its magnificent beauty but were yanked out of thought when you felt the cool air of the city hit your skin. Miguel’s warm hands trailed down your back as he took off your dress gently, and let it pool at your feet. With one arm he lifted you up and kicked the dress away, so you wouldn’t trip as he walked you to the edge of the balcony. He kissed your head and neck as he skimmed his hands over the waistline of your panties, then dipped his fingers in and pressed into your pussy, groaning with satisfaction,

“You’re already all wet huh beautiful baby? At least your pussy is cooperating with me-“

You gasped at his words but were cut short,

“Miguel- Ohh fuck! Ah s’full..”

You were already soaking wet from how much his words had aroused you, that he had slid in fully super easily. You didn’t even know when he lost the shorts as he pressed his bare hips against your ass, taking you in. You held onto the metal rail as you whined, feeling two of his thick fingers press your clit firmly as he egged you on,

“I’m gonna make you come on my cock and fingers, and let the city hear how gorgeous you are.. show them that you’re worthy of me, my fingers.. and my fucking cock-“

“Ah baby- m-more..”

Miguel had started to pump you slowly and rub circles on your clit, building up that aching pleasure down there where you both connected, but you were to focused on the city around and below you shining and probably listening, that you couldn’t focus on the pleasure increasing.

You the closed your eyes and put your head down, letting low to no moans escape your lips as you tried to shy away, even though you felt as if you could scream, Miguel was hitting and touching you just right at once. But the insecurity of you being heard while fucked by this gorgeous God-sculpted man had you shrinking slowly,. But Miguel caught on, and gave you a firm thrust, causing you to choke on a moan,

“Ah Miguel- please!!”

He smiled to himself at hearing your voice crying out to him, and tears were beginning to form in your eyes for how hard he started ramming into you, hitting that right spot that had you curling your toes, it wasn’t painful- hell no it was euphoric and full of pleasure. Miguel kissed your eyes and chuckled lowly,

“Please what hermosa? Hm?”

You tried to form words, but he had made you so cock drunk, it only came out as moans and incoherent pleas for him to go on, but Miguel slowed down a bit when you couldn’t answer right away. That warmth in your belly that was growing into a flame was now slowly dissipating all because of him, it had you clawing at his back and whimpering desperately,

“No no no!! D-Don’t- ohh!! Don’t slow down!!”

At your words Miguel’s hips completely stopped moving, but he laid his thumb right on your clit, and perfectly drew small circles against it, with a good enough pressure to keep you going- but not enough to get you off immediately. You had tried to move your hips against his hand to grab more friction for your aching cunt, but he instantly held your hip down and growled next to your ear,

“Desesperada eh?” (Desperate huh?)

You turned your face and teasingly kitten licked his temple, smirking to yourself when his cock twitched in you emitting a small moan from his throat.

“I’ll literally rail you until all you know and say is that you’re my beautiful baby, my girl.”

His arm snaked around you and covered your waist as he leaned you over the balcony fence, so it wouldn’t hurt you, or bruise you. Maybe he was a rough lover, but god damn only he could make those bruises, not anything else, he’d break it if it did. Miguel held you tightly and used his other hand to come up at your throat, to hold your chin high so you’d never bow your head down to a city that could never shine brighter than you.

Kisses were given on your neck and a soft bite to your ear lobe, as Miguel cooed,

“You’re mine hermosa… my beautiful baby..”

You moaned out as you felt his large, veiny length re-enter into your pussy slowly, letting you know with every inch taking place in you, that he was yours and you.. were entirely his. You have felt him so many times, as he loved to claim you and you lived for taking him, but it always felt like a first and better each time, the experience wasn’t ever the same… it was a different beautiful love story being told every time.

Once he fully seated into you, he held his place and squeezed your hips, letting a deep groan emit from his lips, the vibration of it being felt on your back as he was pressed impossibly on top of you. You sighed contentedly as you could feel him press the tip of his cock right at your cervix, you knew the minute he’d start, he’d be hitting that perfect spot every time.. it make your knees weak and you rub your ass on him for more. But he stopped you as he spoke lovingly yet with that authoritative tone,

“I’m going to let everyone know how beautiful you are.. hm? Let the city see you but they can’t touch?”

He made you feel so bold, it had you spilling out confidence,

“If I’m who you say I am.. let them.”

“Of course you are.”

He then ripped off your lacy bra and panties, putting you on full display before going back to thrusting into you. This time you let your moans come out freely and your eyes watched the city around you, maybe they heard you, but you couldn’t care, not when you were safe in Miguel’s arms and you were his beautiful baby.

Sense you had been edged to a close release earlier before it had been taken away, you were quickly clawing back to it faster than you expected, making you cry out to Miguel as you reached for his hair and pulled on it,

“Miguel!-“

“Ya se- me to! AH!! Hold on!” (I know)

He moaned into your ear as he pulled you away from the balcony, and lifted you up, bouncing you on his cock as he walked you two back to your bed. Before he laid you down he turned you around so easily like if you weighed like a feather, and dropped your back onto the cold sheets. Your high was so on the edge into bursting like a firework it had you crying and ushering him onto you again,

“Please Miguel I need you!! Oh fuck me please-“

Miguel placed a sloppy open mouthed kiss to your lips and pulled away, watching a string of saliva follow between you too, as he asked you one last time,

“Who are you hermosa?”

You whined at his question as you were feeling overwhelmed, your hand held onto Miguel’s thick arm tightly while you used the other to wipe your tears as you hiccuped,

“Please Mig-“

His claws ran up your thighs and pulled them up slowly as he shook his head and repeated with more purpose,

“Who. Are. You. Hermosa?”

He then gently laid your legs over his shoulders, and held onto them there as he patiently waited for your answer, and you knew he’d stayed rock hard in you all day waiting for your answer.. over just taking you for himself and forgetting what he wanted from you. So to give him the clarity he wanted and you needed, you took a deep breath and narrowed your eyes at him, pushing your hips closer to his as you seductively said,

“I’m your beautiful baby.”

As if he had won the billion dollar lottery, Miguel wore a smile that was brighter than the sun, as he pulled out from you slowly, but rapidly slammed into you with a groan,

“Right- AH! Fuckinnn answer hermosa..”

He then leaned over you and pressed you tightly between the bed and himself, your feet practically next to your head as Miguel embraced your body close to his.

Your hand snaked around his neck while the other locked itself into his thick hair, ready to pull it as you wished. Miguel placed a deep kiss to you lips as he relished in the feeling of your warm walls squeezing him tightly like a vice, so hungry to milk him for all he had.

Pussy throbbing and clenching around him had you almost ready to beg for some kind of friction, until all those thoughts went away when he ferociously began to ram into you. His tip kissing your cervix every time had your toes curling, he was so big in your tight pussy you could feel his thick veins run up and down in you as he pumped roughly.

His low groans soon turned into desperate moans as he didn’t relent his pace, he kissed your neck before placing a deep bite with his fangs right on your pulse point, he controlled his venom to not be released, but he sure left his mark there on you. You pulled his hair and threw your head back when you felt your high building up, the tingling feeling in your lower belly only getting stronger and it only got better as Miguel rubbed his pelvis against your pussy at every thrust.

You were absolutely overwhelmed with Miguel, his chest pressed against yours, his arms wrapped tightly around you, his face hiding in your neck, his warm breath hitting your skin, the sweet words of honey that made your heart melt, and his moans that brought you closer to your peak, and lastly but not least.. his cock driving into you wildly like no other.

His frame was much larger than yours, he was 6’9 and you of course were no where close to that, leaving you small in his arms, but it made it all more blissful and comforting in his hold. His thick dark hair had become a great pull for when he’d hit that gummy spot in you, egging on your desperation for more of what he could give.

Your hand left his shoulders as you realized your nails had dug into his skin quiet harshly, almost drawing blood. You reached out above you and gripped the sheets, pulling on them as you squealed,

“Ah!! Miguel- please! I’m close!!”

The most pornographic moan left his lips at your words, it sounded so good yet it was the most sinful thing you’ve probably ever heard. His hand left your hip and took yours off the sheets, exchanging your hold on it to his instead, your fingers intertwining in a tight yet promising grip in his large hand.

He growled deeply while nodding,

“I- Fuck!! Ay coño- come with me my beautiful baby. I’m so c-close!”

Miguel then pulled his face from your neck and leaned his forehead on yours, swallowing your cries with a searing kiss, before demanding,

“Come on baby.. tell me who you are- ah! Fuck- that’s all I want to here baby.”

Maybe your head was full of only Miguel, his cock, and the pleasure, but you nonetheless moaned against his lips,

“I! Ohh fuck- I’m your beautiful baby.. just y-yours!! Ah harder baby-“

“Then tell me again- ohh mama- go on.”

Hips rutting into yours harder was making tears collect in your eyes, and now screaming as you felt your release hitting its peak.

“Oh- I’m yours!! Beautiful baby- all AH!! Miguel- please I’m coming- mmph!!”

His lips took yours again as his rhythm began to falter a bit, stuttering his beat as he began to come with you. Moans synchronizing into one melody as you both rode your highs, letting it ride long as you were in paradise, never wanting it to end.

Finally you sighed out, needing air as it had been taken from Miguel, your high finally and fully dissipated, but you’ve never felt so satisfied and complete. Chest heaving and rubbing against his, you closed your eyes and relaxed into the sheets, letting go of Miguel’s hand and shoulder and letting your arms fall and spread out.

Miguel smiled at your blissed state and he could’ve sworn that he’s never seen a more gorgeous sight, you were heavenly and all his. You had stayed quiet for a bit, trying to catch your breath and calm your crazy heart beat, with slight concern Miguel came close to your forehead and spoke through kisses,

“Hermosa? Are *kiss* you *kiss* ok? *kiss*”

Slowly you nodded and did your best to reply,

“Hmm-utiful.. yours.. hm beau’ful..”

At your response Miguel couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped his lips, he felt proud of himself, yet more proud of you.

You were definitely cock drunk and had been seriously railed until you only knew the words he told you to repeat over and over, so you could only think of that if someone ever told you less.

But that was his goal, he never wanted to hear any negative words about yourself come out of your mouth again, and if they did… he’d make sure he’d be there to tell you different, in many ways until you believed him.

Miguel kissed your head and wiped the rest of your tears away as he carefully pulled out, shushing your little whines with sweet coos sense you were sensitive. The warmth of his body left yours for a few seconds before it came back, with a warm washcloth to clean you up.

Gentleness was in his every move and his reassuring smile and attentiveness to your needs had you weak even more for him. He was always such a stern man for reasonable reasons, but with you, he was the most gentle giant you had ever known.

Once he was finished he cleaned himself up and tossed the cloth to the corner basket before wrapping and clinging himself onto you.

He moved you to rest on top of him, your head right over his heart, and his hand gently rubbing up and down your back, comforting himself with you well spent and in his arms. The whole time he knew you were up, as your traced heart shapes on his chest, he could feel them.

So he gave himself the opportunity to shower you with encouraging words, reminding you of your worth and how much he loved you.. he even went as far out of his comfort zone to say that you and him should have a day where you took cute pictures (well he said sexy and provocative but you said maybe one thing at a time) and you could post them on your social media and he’d do the same on his, letting everyone know how gorgeous you were and how worthy you were to have him.

You agreed to the suggestion and thanked him for always being the best, and loving you truly in every way.

“Thank you Miguel.. I’m sorry for-“

“Being my beautiful girl? I know.. me too, cause you’re stuck with me forever.”

You giggled and pecked his cheek,

“I love you so much..”

A genuine smile that had a hint of a pride in it found it’s way on Miguel’s lips, which you kissed fully before laying back down and curling into his sweet hold. You knew he wouldn’t let you apologize for something he felt wasn’t necessary, so you took his words of assurance instead and fell asleep, utterly full of him and his love for you.

When Miguel felt you go limp and you had stopped tracing, he cuddled you closer to his chest and pressed your head against him, as he pecked your head and bid you goodnight,

“Goodnight my beautiful baby.. I love you so much more..”

#miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel spiderverse #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel x reader fluff #miguel ohara #miguel o'hara smut #miguel o’hara fluff #miguel spiderman #miguel o’hara #miguel o’hara atsv #miguel ohara smut #astv smut #miguel 2099 #spider man 2099 smut #spiderman 2099

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gh0stsp1d3r · 11 months

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Could you do a Miguel O’Hara x wife!spider reader, when he lost his daughter he lost her too until they meet during the start of spider society, and he’s smitten with her and they have a baby who’s friends with mayday and she calms down Miguel when he starts to get anger at miles and guides miles. Also to see he’s smitten with her and their baby who is Gabriella.

I don’t know if this is what you meant but hopefully it is (:

My Spanish is prolly shitty because I don’t remember junk from Spanish class but I tried 😭 correct me if anything’s wrong cause I only speak fluent English and Hindi

His two sweet girls

He tried to find an answer for years on how you survived but Gabriella didn’t, coming up with nothing. He was happy you were alive, of course he was. But he wished Gabriella was with you both.

“Miggie, I think we should have another child.”

“What..? What if I can’t protect them? What if they die just like Gabriella?” He said, voice shaking slightly.

You flinched at his voice, trying to calm him down.

“It’ll be good for us. I love and miss her too. Every single day. And don’t you remember how she said she always wanted a baby sister or brother? You can protect them, because it’s not your fault she died.”

He stayed silent for a while. After a lot more talking and thinking, he agreed.

And that was last year, your baby now a year old, and your marriage stronger than ever.

Your daughter was also friends with Peter B Parker’s baby, Mayday. She played with her a lot, and had spider like powers. She liked to climb walls and ceilings with mayday, making it a chore to watch them both.

One day, Miguel started yelling and getting pissed off while you were trying to put the baby to sleep.

“Miggie.” You said, everyone turning to you. Miles looked in confusion.

“Ay, Vuelve al apartamento, mi amor.”

(Go back in the apartment, my love.)

“Es ese el niño de 1610?”

(Is that the kid from 1610?)

“Sí, por favor solo entra. Estaré callado.” He grew aggravated.

(Yes, please just go inside. I’ll be quiet.)

You sighed, walking towards him. He cocked an eyebrow.

“What are you doing?”

“Quit being so hard on him. He’s a kid.” You handed him your guy’s daughter and he sighed as your baby climbed up on his shoulder, then climbed down and went over to Hobie. Hobie picked her up and started playing with her, which made you laugh quietly.

“Look, Miles, you don’t get it. You can destroy your world if you do this.” He continued.

“You just expect me to let my dad die?”

“I lost my dad. And my daughter. We’ve all lost something, but it makes us who we are. Time heals all wounds.” You said.

He stayed silent for a moment.

“You might feel guilt, but you have to understand that that’s just the sacrifice of being who we are. We all lose somebody, and that’s okay. And you may never get over it, but if you save him, your whole world collapses. Your dad dies, your mom, your friends, the people you care about. They all die because you decided to save him.” You continued, and Miguel silently listened to the whole thing.

“Just.. stay here for two days, kid. Then we’ll let you go.” Miguel said.

He stared at the baby hobie was currently throwing in the air and talking to with admiration and love. He loved his two girls, his two sweet girls, and he wasn’t going to lose them again.

#miguel o’hara #miguel o’hara x reader #spider man across the spider verse x reader #spider man across the spider verse

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iceandpeaches · 2 months

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tongue twister; luke castellan

pairing: luke castellan x fem! reader

warning: the mention of the nickname “mami”… i wrote this a while back

a/n: WOOOOO finals r finally over!!! also no specified language because i am not about to use google translate and butcher any language

you were always proud of your heritage, your mother had brought you up well before you had to come to camp. you learned lots about your culture and its language, since your mother would strictly speak to you in her native language. you were convinced she did this only because she wasn’t the most proficient with her english. you ate cultural foods everyday, which was a huge culture shock when you started going to camp full time. everything was different, and you missed home.

until luke came along. luke did his best to make you feel at home, learning phrases from your native tongue so he could talk to you. which leads you to months later, teaching him whatever you could for when he would meet your mother. your brows were creased, you could’ve sworn you were having a headache just from hearing him pronounce a phrase in a broken accent. luke had read any book he found in your native language to try and get better at it, but really you almost died laughing just from hearing him read to you.

“luke.. i don’t know how you haven’t given up yet.”

“i need to impress her, mami. if not, she’s not gonna let me continue to date you.”

you refrain yourself from bursting out into laughter with luke scribbling in his notebook, making sure he had every syllable down to the bone. you gently rubbed his arm, watching the untidy scribbles that filled the page. you were glad luke would take time to learn the language of your childhood, you deeply appreciated it.

“alright.. pronounce it again for me?”

luke spoke, you doing exactly as he said. he grins and kisses your cheek, which never failed to leave you blushing crimson.

“how do you make it sound so easy, mami.”

“it’s like how you make spanish sound easy.”

“i’m born latino, amore.”

you giggle, your lips meeting his. you adored luke’s desire to even try learning the unordinary language, especially when you had such a thick accent when you spoke your native dialect. luke found it fascinating, how someone could sound so beautiful just by their voice.

it took luke months to get at least adequately fluent. but the hard work paid off when you met your mother. though luke couldn’t exactly understand the alternative dialect you and your mother conversed in, he somehow picked up some words from it.

luke sat down by your mother, speaking to her in your native tongue. your mother glanced at you, surprised that your boyfriend was speaking to her in the language you were brought up in. or at least, the one your maternal family spoke. you giggled, sipping on your tea your mother made for you both.

it was rather refreshing to see your mother laughing at luke’s attempts to understand her, despite you having prepared him it was still funny to watch. you loved his attempts to try to remember what you had taught him, denying your help everytime you prompted to. luke was stunned to say the least. you hadn’t warned him that your mother spoke faster and had a thicker accent than you did, which made things a little harder to understand. but he did his best.

after you both left, luke was relieved he didn’t have to act like he understood what your mother was saying. you giggled, arm linked with his.

“your mother spoke like what tongue twisters sound like.”

you grin, peppering his cheeks with gentle kisses. his remark about your mother made you giggle. you knew what she was like, and that was just to test luke’s language ability.

“you did well, dear. i’m proud of you.”

#luke castellan #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan x you #percy jackson #luke castellan pjo #luke castellan imagine #luke castellan x fem!reader #luke castellan oneshot #charlie bushnell #peach's fics

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ninyard · 27 days

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The monsters and their ability to pick up languages is so interesting to me so here’s some random HCs about monsters + languages that are definitely not original at all:

- Neil learned French in Europe before him and Mary found their way to French-speaking Canada. He essentially had to semi-adopt the language discrepancies while he was there, and even though his fluency is in French from France, sometimes he messes up and pronounces things weirdly or differently (and Kevin frequently makes fun of him for it)

- Kevin has some rusty Japanese that he was forced to learn growing up. He can understand it pretty well, and can somewhat speak it to a lower level, but he can’t read or write it. He’s not fluent, and probably couldn’t hold a conversation with a native speaker, but he could understand his Japanese counterparts in the Nest when he needed to.

- In turn Kevin isn’t able to order in Japanese at a restaurant, but he could explain the rules of Exy to someone fairly coherently if he had to.

- This isn’t an original thought by any means but Neil and Kevin definitely speak in French when they’re by themselves just to make sure they don’t lose it.

- They sometimes make calls to each other on the court in French, and because of this, most of the team picks up very basic calls in French. None of them can actually speak it, but Andrew picks up a little more than the rest, having spent so much time with Kevin. Again, couldn’t hold a conversation, but every now and again he recognises certain words in their conversations.

- Neil is like a walking version of those White Guy Speaks Chinese And Stuns Waitress (he can understand her?!?) polyglot youTube videos. It becomes more of a hobby for him once he’s settled and the FBI are off his back, but the foxes are constantly shocked by how many languages he can speak. He is fluent in English, French, and German of course, with some conversational Spanish, but he can pretty much have a basic interaction in most of the languages of countries he’d been in. His Dutch is the worst, because he could never quite grasp the proper pronunciation of things, but one time he speaks to a waiter in Italian and Andrew can’t believe it.

- (RIP Neil Josten, you would’ve loved duolingo)

- When he goes to the Olympics he’s like a kid in a candy store. It’s like a subconscious bingo game for him to speak to someone from every country at least once.

- Aaron loves listening to music in German. He would definitely drag Nicky to a rave if they ever found themselves in Berlin.

- Katelyn asks him whenever they have their kid if he wants to raise them bilingual, but he decides not to because he only really learned German for Nicky and his brother, and doesn’t really speak it at all after he graduates.

- Neil and Nicky study Spanish together sometimes. It helps Nicky stay close to his roots now that his immediate family is pretty much out of the picture. It means way more to him than Neil even knows.

- Another unoriginal one but Andrew and Neil definitely do learn sign language in the future. I could talk about this one forever.

- When Kevin gets frustrated, he finds it hard to speak ANY language. He messes up words in English, forgets how to say things, and occasionally is the butt of the joke when he combines a French and English word accidentally.

- Kevin watches anime when nobody is around. He thinks dubbed anime is a crime.

- Andrew thinks he’s pretty good at German until he tries to have a conversation with Erik and realises wow native speakers talk a lot faster than we do. You wouldn’t know, because even if he just understands half of a sentence, he can usually piece together what is being said 90% of the time, and he would never admit out loud that he needs Erik to slow down when he’s talking so he can understand him.

- He is, however, REALLY good at accents. He has a talent for speaking gibberish but sounding as if he’s speaking fluent French. It drives Kevin up the wall when he does it, but he also hates when he can’t understand what Kevin and Neil are saying to each other.

And Bonus:

- Jeremy is really bad at accents. He is initially frustrated by Jean and his French, but once he understands that it is Jean’s first language (that the Moriyama’s took from him), he makes an effort to try and learn. He’s just really, really bad at it. Jean cringes every time he tries, because he speaks with a heavy American accent. Jean is not pretentious about his language, but he is, at the end of the day, French. So when Jeremy says bonjour in that hideous so-Cal accent, it’s in part endearing that he’s trying, but mostly like nails on a chalkboard.

#this is so. pointless #and not original #but I just want to share :)#Kevin day #Neil josten #aftg #tfc #Andrew minyard #Nicky hemmick #jean moreau #jeremy knox #thank u for ur time

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auyuyu006 · 3 months

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Johnshi HCs

I'm sorry most of these aren't explicitly romantic I just have so many HCs about the two of them it's driving me crazy.

Johnny holds Kenshi by the waist, Kenshi holds Johnny by the shoulder or the bicep. After some time Kenshi starts to go for his hand instead.

Johnny is on his phone all of the time. Kenshi will either avoid the internet for a week or plays chess on the computer at the kitchen table for a day straight without talking to anyone (secretly uses Sento for this).

Kenshi has good spirits (literally) when it comes to his blindness, but can get very defensive when others pity him for it. Johnny is the only other person he will let touch his blindfold, take it off, or wash it.

Kenshi doesn't love the name "Johnny Cage" and thinks that "John Carlton" suits him. Johnny thinks that it sounds like an "old man's name"

Kenshi would visit Johnny on set sometimes but not say or do anything but sit in the background and watch him in silence until he was done.

Speaking of that- Kenshi had a good time filming in Outworld for Johnny's movie (made him feel like an action hero), but absolutely refused to watch the parts he was in.

Kenshi thought Johnny's movies were mostly cheesy before and after meeting him. However, he ended up rewatching all of them and got excited when there was news he got cast for a new one (before they started to officially date).

Johnny was a pretty good student growing up who made A's and B's as per expectations of his parents but hated school because he got picked on. He got into a decent university where he ended up falling in love with physics. He accidentally became famous around the time he was 20 (maybe he got street casted and went viral?) and had to balance acting with school to get his pHD. He is that school's most famous alumni.

Kenshi was mostly homeschooled by his parents and did not show much attention in academics in his youth due to his intense upbringing in the yakuza. This is something that he regrets but accepts that it wasn't really his choice to begin with. However he is quite knowledgable, knows broadly about history and literature, and can speak multiple languages (Japanese, Chinese, Korean, English, Spanish). He also learns braille relatively fast after losing eyesight.

Kenshi thinks it's so hot that Johnny has a pHD but also thinks its so strange he doesn't do anything with it. (It's a backup plan so he can write textbooks if his career tanks)

Johnny is great at drawing due to it being a hobby growing up stemming from him being a major comic book fan. Kenshi isn't very artistic however used to be able to do mediocre calligraphy (a skill he learned from his parents) before he became blind.

Kenshi breaking into Cage Mansion the second Cris left was admittedly pretty awkward for him (but he was too distracted by Sento to rly care).

Kenshi tries to not let it get to him, but he is saddened by the fact he cannot read properly anymore. Johnny tries to support him by buying him every audiobook in every language he understands. Kenshi will sometimes ask Johnny to read to him mostly because he loves the sound of his voice.

At first, Kenshi tried to get Sento to help him with daily tasks (cooking, cleaning, etc.), but after talking to Kuai Liang he tries not to rely on Sento on anything non-kombat related.

Kenshi has a slight lisp (I'm sorryyyy this isn't rly a hc but you can hear it in his intro dialogues he still sounds like a badass tho i think it's super cute thank god for Vic Chao)

Johnny makes their home a "smart home" a.k.a 30 Alexas in every room of their place, and a Samsung fridge he can live tweet from while making green juice.

Kenshi sometimes used to drive with Sento in the back seat and got arrested for it one time. Now he gets told off by Johnny for it every time he tries it again.

Kenshi will only drink milky coffee (lattes, cappuccinos, etc.) and prefers tea. Johnny hates coffee and tea and pounds red bull in the morning.

Kenshi used to care a lot about his personal style and mostly only wore suits and dress attire. After losing his eyesight, he didn't care as much anymore and just focused on wearing things that were comfortable (sweatpants, sweaters)

Johnny buys Kenshi soft fluffy things to wear all the time. Kenshi always says it's unnecessary but ends up wearing it anyway.

In MK1 Johnny is 32, and Kenshi is 39 (I like the idea of Kenshi being old it just makes sense to me). It both amuses and horrifies Kenshi that he's dating a white man 7 yrs his junior.

Johnny calls him "old man Takahashi" and Kenshi just goes along with it and says "get off my lawn you punk" or something LOL

I think Kenshi was more of the brawny "tough guy" of the yakuza than the suave, seductive type. He has more of an awkward and stony personality. And the fact that he was desperate to get out makes me think he wouldn't entertain the "flirty" role of the job. (a.k.a Kenshi is BAD at flirting unlike a certain someone)

Johnny sometimes helps Kenshis clunky azz samurai gear on before he engages in kombat. Johnny is also the reason Kenshi sometimes gives up and just wears a suit.

Kenshi shops like an old Asian dad. LOVES Costco, will eat all of the samples. Will buy everything on sale even if he doesn't need it. Will not take Johnny with him because his megastardom ruins the peace of being unrecognized. Has taken Raiden with him though. Will use Johnny's credit card. Johnny is dismayed that he hasn't taken a liking to Erewhon and Whole Foods

When Johnny isn't there with him at night Kenshi will play his movies and fall asleep to the sound of his voice

Kenshi will have sex with the blindfold on. He will fall asleep next to Johnny with it off.

Kenshi doesn't like sleeping with the blindfold on, but was worried it would scare or disgust Johnny in some way. It doesn't and it never did. In fact, Johnny appreciates the intimacy that it creates.

#Johnshi #Johnshi hcs #Johnny cage #kenshi takahashi #johnny x kenshi #mk1 #maybe i'll write more of these #johnshi isn't even my fave mk ship lol #these are so kenshi centric #now you know what character i have projected onto #mk brainrot

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kingyoisland · 2 months

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My most crack of crack person head cannon is that Shang Qinghua. The great Airplane shooting towards the side. Is a Cuban Chinese man. 🇨🇺🇨🇳

His mom was Cuban and his Dad was Chinese. In his first like. In his second his mom was Chinese and his dad was Cuban. He doesn’t know English but knows Spanish. The biggest reason he’s not outed as a fucking transmigrator early on because of his mumbling is that a lot of it is in Spanish. The entirety of the Who’s your daddy? Airplane monologue is in Spanish but he says the last line in Chinese.

In my head Shang Qinghua, Su Xiyan, and Binghe are the only characters with curly hair. AAAAAAND because the system fills with Plot holes I believe that Biological. Shang Qinghua is Su Xiyan brother through their father. Not being raised together. Kinda like Shang Qinghua’s Father Secret family. (This circles back stay with me). She gives birth to Luo Binghe who is picked up by the old washer woman.

WHO IS Shang Qinghua’s Mother. And because of her Ex Husband with curly hair teaching her new cultural foods she later teaches both her sons this food. Shang Qinghua and later Luo Binghe. and so know NO ONE CAN MAKE A CUBANO OR PERNI LIKE SHANG QINGUA AND LUO BINGHE!! They can make fucking CUBAN FOOD!! It’s also why these two canonically too the average svsss civilian got the head disciple position because of their ability to cook.

Shang Qinghua is a great cook on the level of Luo Binghe because they have the same teacher and I REFUSE. To believe otherwise.

- Tell me you don’t see this vision. Luo Binghe coming to pick up his Shizun after he has a meeting with Mobei Jun’s rat. Your Shizun walks out with a little Box of fucking Pan con Lechón that’s the name your Mother use to call it at least. You haven’t seen anybody now or since that can cook that food. First you get sad and are about to cry because another man cooked for Shizun. Then your mind goes too how is the fastest way I kill the rat without upsetting Shizun. And only then do you pause. IS THAT FUCKING PAN CON LECHÓN!!

- Also Mobei Jun knowing a surprising amount of Spanish just not when it’s spoken very quickly. Well he knows Shang Qinghua’s broken Spanderin. So he knows quite a bit. But like also not a miracle worker if Shang Qinghua talks any faster then normal he cannot understand a thing.

If you want more I have more please god I need to talk to someone about this please!!

#svsss #svsss novel #svsss shitpost #svsss shang qinghua #svsss headcanon #moshang #bingqiu #svsss luo binghe #shang qinghua

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imlovewithpixels · 1 year

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How does Quackity met you?

- Fem!Reader x Quackity little imagine

Pov: You became viral on TikTok for the wrong thing.

(( Remember that my request are OPEN - Spanish or English))

This is my first thing in english for the streamer community even if I see more content off the Hispanic Streamers

Also, If you like my work, check out my Masterlist . I need to update my fandoms <3

- English is not my mother lenguaje, please be nice if I had any grammatical errors.

You were just streaming Minecraft. It was a pretty chill and cozy stream where you were decorating your mushroom house and talking with your chat. You had a little community in Spanish and English but your viewers were around 1k per stream.

Your calm voice was accompanied by the background music on Minecraft while you were mumbling to a song that was stuck in your head since last week.

And then you saw your Twitch display.

Quackity was on stream…¿he was going to play garthic phone?

You NEEDED to see that.

— Okay…ma babies, I will end this stream right here.— You said, laughing a little bit.

A lot of comments started to pop up. “Why???” “noooo pliss :c” “I just started watching TT” “mi casitaaa, don't go”

— Well…you know, Quackity …he…he just started a Spanish stream and I want to see it. — You whisper to the microphone fast. Your cheeks were red from embarrassment. “So, all of you should go. We have one rule in this place, "If mi casita is streaming, go to see it” After a silly tone of voice you smile at the camera and wave a little wave. “Babays”

“She had a crush on him, umm. Our mommy is gonna leave us. TT” A last-time donation came up in your scream and the robotic voice read it. You open your eyes surprised and completely flutter.

— I-I, I don’t, mierda. wHY ARE YOU LIKE THIS? — Your chat started calling you cute and being dramatic for leaving them when you turned off the camera. Your hot face and silly but cute expression were the last images that you gave them.

Then, you went to the other stream, and continued with your Minecraft real, while listening to a lot of Spanish swearing.

…

It only took one week to blow off.

That little clip of your last stream kinda became viral on TikTok.

“The girl that ends up her stream for Quackity”

Oh god, oh my god.

This was so embarrassing. On one side, you didn’t mean any of this but your account kinda blows up with a lot of new people and subs. But, there was also a thing that you have never dealt with before, haters. Who said that you only wanted attention, that you were just a fangirl who wanted to meet him. Just pick me.

That makes you uncomfortable, you didn’t know how to deal with all that shit, but still tried to look calm like always on your streams. With 5k viewers on you, it was a little hard to read all the comments while you were playing Valorant, but you could see a lot of comments referring to the Mexican streamers.

You’re nervous. You didn’t mean any of this, and first of all, you did not want to disturb Quackity.

You just hope that this incident just passes like any other TikTok and were replaced.

…

“Have you seen the girl who just turned off her stream for you? Such a pick me”

The robotic voice was heard after the donation and Quackity just could give a confused look. His chat seemed to know about the topic, and they started spamming his discord with certain TikTok.

— What are you talking about, guys? — He opened one of them and your voice filled his stream.

Quackity saw your relaxing face while singing, your brown eyes lit up when she saw something, and you had a cute little smile. And your wavy hair follows your head movements when you face the camera with an embarrassed expression.

“Well…you know, Quackity …he…he just started a Spanish stream and I want to see it. “

He knew he had fans, a lot of them actually, but that little clip of you just ending your stream for him makes him kinda happy. His heart warms up while you shout to your chat, like, and intern joke. His cheeks feel a little hot and the smile across his face captures the chat's attention.

“She’s cute”

“New ship, new ship”

“She just wanted fame I think.”

“I follow her, pure mommy vibes”

“She has been harassed on her last streams for this, what a shame. “

That little comment took him back to the earth.

— “Guys, you know that I don’t support any of this behavior. Please, if you comment shitty things to this pretty girl, you’re not part of my community” — Alex didn’t notice the pretty on his lips when he called you and almost immediately went to your stream to follow you.

Little did he know that you were on a drawing stream, too focused on your work to look at your chat. Your live face was so beautiful, even if you were with a messy bum and frowning in concentration.

He donated to you right away.

“Quackity had donated 10 000 bits. And applause for the sugar” Your alert claimed.

“ I like that drawing, I could request a commission someday. I’m sorry for any uncomfortable comment from my community, I thought that your gesture was really funny and sweet :) “

You just drop your pencil for the amount of money and then, when you see the username, your face goes from pale to red in two seconds.

Shit. Shit.

Did he just…. know that you fucking exist for a TikTok?

— “I-I…. Yo…deje mi comida en la estufa. Gracias por la plata. Sleep well chat. “ — And with that, you went off stream.

...

Quackity blinked two times and then he just bursts off in a laugh.

That was so funny, you were interesting.

“You suck flirting.”

— I was not….I didn’t mean to…fuck off, chat. Let’s enter the server. — He said, rolling his eyes, trying to distract himself from thinking about your last expression and how you couldn’t manage to erase the shy smile off your face.

Did he have that effect on you?

How cute.

#mcyt x reader #mcyt x y/n #mcyt #mcyt quackity #quackity x reader #quackity #quackity x y/n #quackity x you #dsmp x reader #dsmp x you #quackity imagine #quackity karmaland #quackity headcannons

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octuscle · 8 months

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My latino boyfriend is always making fun of me about how uncultured I am and I'll admit, I come from a pretty basic white family. But while my boyfriend seems playful about it, I think his family judges me a lot for it. And from the little spanish I know, I could pick up that they don't really seem to like me too much. So I was pretty surprised when his mother invited me to their family gathering. But when I got there, my boyfriend wasn't there, but everyone has been treating me really nice- saying I'll fit right into the family. Seems odd to me though, maybe I misread them?

Even though everyone is very nice to you, you feel extremely uncomfortable. Yes, compared to your friend's family, pretty much everyone is uncultured. The townhouse looks like it was just photographed in Architectural Digest. Whereas your friend's Argentine mother would never allow such vulgarity. Incredibly, the family is only here a few weeks a year…. But such a luxury….

They all speak English as if they were born in Oxford. Okay, most of them studied there. But as soon as they want you to miss something, they immediately switch to French. That you understand and speak a little Spanish, they have already noticed. The risk that you could understand them when they speak Spanish is too great.

The mother asks you to take a seat at the coffee table. You sit down and take a cupcake. The butler asks you what he can bring you to drink. You actually want to say, "A tea, please". But without being able to control it, you reply, "A beer, mate." What the hell was that? You didn't say that. You look around in fear. But instead of looking reprimanded, everyone smiles at each other in satisfaction. Fuck, how are you sitting here at the table? You've slid down with your legs wide apart and are lying on the Louis Quinze sofa more than you're sitting. The butler brings a bottle of beer and a crystal glass. You take the bottle, drink a big gulp and burp. "Hehehe, that was a good one" you say laughing with your mouth full after eating half a cupcake in one sitting.

"Tell me Steven, are you a native of London?" asks your friend's brother. "You be' your ass, pal," comes out of your mouth. "Bawn an' raised in Tottenham. An' call me Steve, mate" Fuck, you're from a village in Sussex. Why would you say something like that? "Interesting. But tell me Steve, how do you know my son?" asks the father. You'd like to say that he should actually know that you two play soccer together. But instead you say that you take care of the lawn mowing and stuff like that on their son's soccer team. "How interesting, we are looking for a new gardener for our house in the country. Would you be interested?" "You bet I would, ma'am. Anything's better than this crappy job. I'm getting sick and tired of this damn town, too." The brother of the guy who plays in the soccer club pulls out a piece of paper. "Here's our proposal. Could you start tomorrow?". All you see is the salary. Fuck, that's a lot of fucking money for a little lawn mowing and weeding. You don't think twice and sign it with your scrawly handwriting.

Can you remember that yesterday you were 22 years old, a hard-working student and a promising soccer player? Now you're tending the vegetable garden in a run-down country house in the middle of nowhere. None of the staff has ever seen the gentry here. And somehow no one here can really remember what they did before they started working here as a game warden, mechanic or janitor. Fuck, never mind. All hot men here with an irrepressible urge for hard, good and honest sex. Whatever you were doing before you came here, it must have been worse by far.

#male tf #muscle tf #reality change #muscle transformation #male transformation #age progression #revange tf

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chaiiitime · 7 months

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It Happened One Summer Night

Summary : A broken car. A sleepy little village. It was a scary feeling to see all the excuses you made to hate each other slowly crumble away. Wild curls. Inked skin. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad to let go.

Pairing : Daniel Ricciardo x OC!Fem

Warning : Sexual themes, 18+

Masterlist | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4

Chapter 3

Adriana knew exactly where she was as she slowly woke up.

A light breeze was ruffling the lace curtains at the window, the sun creating intricate patterns on the floor as it shone through.

The space next to her was rumpled and empty. Daniel had already woken up, which meant she also had to get up.

At the back of her mind, Adriana knew they had a lot to do if they wanted to reach Jerez any time soon, but she felt so heavy, her body languid against the cotton sheets. She turned around, burrowing into Daniel’s custom-made travel pillow, the material soft against her cheek. It smelled of rain and forest, so unlike what she would have expected.

She thought back to his apology of last night. She had to give it to him — it took a lot of self-awareness to admit to being wrong.

She threw off the covers, padding barefoot to the bathroom, looking at herself in the little mirror above the sink. She cringed, covering her face with her hands as she remembered the way she’d all but exploded at Daniel in the car. She never lost her cool like that — she’d always been the calm and collected older sister. So she didn’t know why she’d acted like that with Daniel.

Maybe, she had to accept she was the one who had created the resentment that was brewing between them. She was the one who had been cold and rude the first time they’d met when Daniel had been nothing but nice. Even if he’d been overly flirty. She’d looked at him and judged him just because he had reminded her of her ex. She’d accused him of being arrogant and self-serving, but yet, he hadn’t once made any recriminations against her when she was the one responsible for essentially stranding them. He hadn’t made any snide comments. Instead, he’d been — very understanding.

She needed to apologise to him. That was the only right thing to do.

She pulled on the white shirt and linen shorts she’d picked out last night. The material was creased and the Spanish humidity had turned her hair in a frizzy mess. She wished she had packed one of her power suits and her favourite pair of Louboutins — because God knew she needed the armour if she was going to be apologising to Daniel.

She smoothed out the creases as much as she could and gave up on trying to tame her hair. Time to face the day.

Daniel was right — she’d been sitting on her high horse all this time and it was time to get down before she face-planted on the ground.

Adriana drifted down the hallway, following the voices coming from the back of the house — a mixture of broken English and Spanish, intercepted with the unmistakable sound of Daniel’s honking laughter.

The hallway opened into the kitchen.

It looked like it had been plucked right out one of the old telenovelas Adriana’s grandmother used to watch — the uneven terracotta floor made dull with wear, the little pots of herb lining the window sill and the big old farmhouse table at the centre of the room, its wood scarred with age.

There was a rickety old door that opened into the yard and from where she stood, Adriana could see the clothes gently swaying on the clothesline. A flock of chickens were running freely in the yard, some of them pecking at the scattered seeds near the doorway.

Daniel was sitting at the table, gesturing wildly with his hands, Cayetana appearing enthralled with whatever he was trying to say, the pot she had bubbling away on the old-fashioned stove completely forgotten.

“Ah!” Cayetana exclaimed, spotting her in the doorway. “Bueno Dias! Come in, come in.” She gestured for her to take a seat at the table.

Adriana gratefully accepted the cup of coffee Cayetana handed her, murmuring her thanks as she took a sip. The coffee was sweet and milky — just how one should take their coffee when on holiday.

“Tu novio es tan encantador.” Your boyfriend is so charming.

Adriana had to hide her smile behind her cup at the way the older lady was blushing as she literally batted her eyelashes at Daniel.

Of course, he would have worked that charm on her already.

She’d been very careful not to look at him as she had sat down. She peeked at him now, and was surprised to see him looking at her with hooded eyes. He looked well-rested and fresh. He’d somehow shaved in the morning without waking her up and all that delicious stubble was gone.

Pity that.

“Slept well?” He asked as he took a sip of his coffee, the delicate cup looking positively tiny in his large hand.

“Uhmm.” She nodded non-committedly as she buttered up a piece of bread. She hadn’t slept well at all. She’d been excruciatingly aware of him next to her all through the night, the heat of his body singeing her skin even with the pillow between them. And from the smirk on his face, he seemed to know it.

Daniel had to bite back a smile as Adriana diligently avoided his question. He was a very light sleeper and he knew she had spent most of the night tossing and turning. It gave him a kind of perverse satisfaction to know she wasn’t as immune to him as she liked to pretend. Oh, he knew that whatever tiny bit of attraction she had for him was liberally mixed with contempt for him, but he’d found a little crack in her facade and he was going to drill till it all but crumbled.

“So,” Cayetana wiped her hands on her apron as she sat down. “How did you two — “ she gestured between the two of them, her English faltering “— meet?”

Adriana cleared her throat, attempting to sound matter-of-factly, “We met through mutual friends.”

She was pretty proud of herself for coming up with that on the spot. It was simple and sweet — easier that way for her and Daniel to keep their stories straight.

“Come on, baby —“

Adriana shot Daniel a look. What was he doing now? He had a mischievous glint in his eyes as he leaned back in his chair and draped his arm over the back of her chair.

“Tell Cayetana how we truly met.”

“Actually —“ He turned to Cayetana who was looking at them expectantly. “We met at a friend’s party. Adriana saw me across the room and of course, fell in love with me at first sight.”He smiled, looking all bashful as he pointed to his face. “I mean, who can resist all this beauty?”

“I wasn’t really on the market for a relationship at the time, but you know —“ His arm was around her shoulders now, “— she kept chasing me and I finally succumbed.” He tipped his head towards her, giving her a little squeeze on the shoulder. “Isn’t that right, pookie?”

Adriana flashed him a sardonic smile, her goodwill to apologise forgotten for now.

Two could play this game.

She leaned forward, whispering conspiratorially in Spanish to Cayetana. “He was unemployed when I first met him, you know.”

He indeed truly had been unemployed.

“All this beauty —“ Adriana motioned to her own face, “but up here —“ she said, tapping her temple, “he’s not exactly the brightest bulb, bless him. But what do you do? Love doesn’t judge and all of that. He just needed someone to believe in him and look where we are now!” She looked up at him, giving his arm that was still around her shoulders a tiny squeeze. “Isn’t that right, pookie?”

His eyes were teasing as they looked down at her, his lips quirked up in a tiny smile.“I hope you’ve been telling our host what a spectacular boyfriend I am.” He said with the kind of easy-going lightness that only he could pull off.

Their gazes held for a moment and just like in the movies, Adriana’s heart stuttered.

“Ay you two!” Cayetana broke the moment between them, Adriana blushing as she looked away. “This is how my Miguel and I were when we were younger. Always teasing one another!”

DANIEL INSTANTLY KNEW they were in trouble as he watched Adriana’s expression fall at whatever the mechanic was telling her. Miguel had gone with the village mechanic to retrieve their car early in the morning and he’d dropped them off at the mechanic’s workshop before he’d gone off.

Adriana thanked the man and turned around. She was gnawing at her bottom lip, the worry clear on her face.

“He said that the branch has badly damaged the underside of the car. He’ll need to replace parts but —“ She let out a harsh sigh, “He doesn’t have them handy, so he’ll need to order them from the next town over and he’ll only get them, maybe tomorrow.”

She turned around, walking out. Daniel followed her out, bringing his hands up to shield his eyes from the bright sun.

“What are we going to do?” Adriana sounded dejected. “There is no way we’ll make it to the wedding in time now.” She said, her voice wobbling slightly.

“Hey, it’s ok —“ Daniel hoped she was not about to cry because he didn’t know what he would do if she did. “We’ll work something out.” He didn’t even sound convincing to himself.

“Like what?” She asked despairingly.

“Uhhh…” Daniel scratched the back of his head as he tried to come up with something. Anything. “We could hire another car?” He said, lifting his shoulders and motioning towards the workshop, “and pay someone to go drop this car off at the nearest car rental office once it’s repaired.”

“Look where we are!” Adriana gestured. The mechanic’s workshop opened onto a dusty street, a lone scooter leaning against the wall opposite. “I don’t think we’re going to find a rental agency in this place! This might as well be a ghost village!”

She kind of had a point there, Daniel acquiesced to himself with a shrug. The village was pretty remote, bordered as it was by the sea on one side and the mountains on the other. There was only one way in and one way out, and at one point in time, the little village used to be only accessible by sea — a fact that the locals seemed to be proud of, but which also meant it wasn’t exactly hopping with tourists, even during summertime.

“I am sure we’ll find something.” He said softly, patiently. If someone ever asked Daniel what his biggest flaw was, it was definitely being overly optimistic even in the shittiest of circumstances. “Come on.”

With a sigh, Adriana followed him down the pebbled street that winded down towards the coast. She wished she had his glass-half-full attitude because then, maybe she would have at least been able to appreciate the quaintness of the little white-washed houses lining the streets, with their colourful shutters and the riot of wild bougainvilleas climbing over their walls.

They passed under the archway of an old building, Daniel turning to watch her carefully pick her way down the roughly-hewn steps to the village square. Little cafés and shops sprawled out in a semi-arc around the square, an old fountain lazily splashing water in the centre. Right across the street, the Mediterranean Sea stretched out to the horizon, little fisherman boats bobbing on the surface.

There were only a few people milling around the square, which was as busy as it got, Adriana guessed. They went into the first shop they saw. The old man behind the counter had no idea where or if they could hire a car. And it was the same with the shop next door, and the shop next to it.

Frustrated, Adriana crossed the street. There was a ledge that ran along the road, with steps leading down to the beach. The mid-day sun reflected off the pristine surface of the water, almost blinding her. She sat down on the ledge and tipped her head back, trying to release the tension in her neck.

It was going to be fine, she repeated to herself. Okay, even if they were not going to make it to the rehearsal dinner, they might still make it for the ceremony.

And things could have been worse.

They could have been stranded in far worse places than this little village. It was the sort of place where everyone knew everyone, where people lived off the land and sea, where the days simply stretched out and slowed down.

It was the sort of place where people came to find themselves. Or to find love.

She could see the spire of the village church in the distance, shining like a beacon against the backdrop of the Pyrenees mountains, vibrant green vegetation softening the harshness of its rocky facade.

Little houses with terracotta roof-tiles dotted the foothills — Adriana could only guess that the view from up there must be spectacular. The little road by the square sinewed along the coast, dropping out of sight around a bend. Further out in the distance, she could see rocky bluffs stretching out to the sea, the waves gently lapping at the rocks.

“Here.”

Adriana looked up. Daniel was standing over her, a bottle of water in his hand. She gratefully accepted it, murmuring her thanks as she took a sip.

“Listen,” Daniel cleared his throat as he sat down next to her. “I know this is all very frustrating and you’re worried you’ll not make it in time for the wedding, but —“ He picked at the label on his bottle with his nails, the paper crumpling easily with the condensation. “I promise you, I’ll get you there on time. Hopefully the car is ready before Friday and I promise you, we’ll be there before the welcome dinner.”

As he’d come out of the shop and seen Adriana sitting so forlornly on the ledge, Daniel had realised he didn’t like seeing her so defeated. He preferred it when she was throwing darts at him with her words. So, it gave him a rush of pleasure when she smiled and gave him a tiny nod. Then, that rush of pleasure didn’t feel that pleasurable anymore, because it left him wanting more, left him wanting to see her smile a bit brighter and that was a road he didn’t want to go down.

“I think we should find a hotel for the rest of our stay here.” He said as he wiped the condensation from the bottle on his shorts. “Miguel and Cayetana have been nice enough to put us up for one night, but we can’t exactly stay there for longer than that.”

He started to get up but Adriana caught his elbow, stopping him. He looked back, perplexed. There was a little furrow between his brows and Adriana itched to reach out and smooth it.

It was her turn to be nervous now.

“I —“ Her tongue timidly flicked out to wet her lips. She tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear and tipped her head up to meet his eyes. “I wanted to apologise. I was rude to you the first time we met. And, and …”

Adriana stuttered, her breath catching for one moment. Serious-faced Daniel was intimidating — his eyes so dark, the bump on the bridge of his nose standing in stark relief against the sharp planes of his face. His lips were pressed in a tight line, but even that couldn’t entirely disguise the fullness of his bottom lip.

“I shouldn’t have exploded on you the way I did in the car. The things I said were uncalled for.”

He was quiet for a moment and then he softly murmured,“I’m sorry too.”

He still had that intent look on his face as he stepped closer to her, crowding her in, the clean earthy smell of him washing over her. “Whether you were rude to me or not, I shouldn’t have said what I said. I’m sorry for hurting you.”

Adriana nodded, ducking her head for a moment to gather herself. “It’s okay. Let’s just pretend we’re starting over — clean slate, yes?”

Daniel surprised her by sticking his hand out. “Hi, I’m Daniel. My friends call me Dan, Danny or you can call me whatever you want. I’m not picky.”

“What?” Adriana asked in confusion as she stared at his outstretched hand.

“Well,” Daniel shrugged, his hand still outstretched towards her. “You said you wanted to start over. So I’m re-introducing myself.”

Bemused, Adriana placed her hand in his, his long fingers wrapping around her wrist, his warmth engulfing her. “I’m Adriana. Just Adriana.” She said wryly.

“Well, just Adriana —“ He flashed her that damn smile. “It’s nice to meet you.”

She couldn’t help it but laugh — not a wry snicker or a bemused chuckle but an actual full-out laugh that lit her whole face, the sound surprisingly innocent and childish to Daniel.

CAYETANA WOULDN’T HEAR anything about them finding another place to stay. Instead, she fed them lunch, even if they weren’t particularly lunch people.

Daniel had gone out to explore the village and when he’d asked if she wanted to come, Adriana had used the excuse of catching up on her work emails to stay back at the house.

She’d scrolled through her inbox and promptly gave up to sit on the window sill in their room. It felt like one of those lazy afternoons during the summer holidays, back when she was a kid.

Cayetana and Miguel’s house was higher up on the piedmont and from the window, Adriana could see the little houses and winding pebbled roads as they cascaded towards the coast. The sea looked irresistibly blue from up here and Adriana could almost feel the salt on her skin, the little sting in her eyes if she would dip her face under the surface of the water.

Fuck it, she was going down there. She hurriedly threw a few things in her beach bag — a towel, some sunscreen and that novel she’d been meaning to read for ages. It wasn’t difficult to find her way back to the village square, because all the roads seemed to lead towards the sea anyway. She went down the steps to the beach and of course, Daniel was there.

He’d somehow ended up playing football with a group of kids. He lifted a hand when he saw her. She waved back, settling down on her beach towel not too far from where they were playing. She tried to get into her book but her eyes kept being drawn to Daniel.

She envied the way he seemed to throw himself into every new interaction without inhibition, soaking up everything in that moment, like there was nowhere else he’d rather be. She watched as he let himself be tackled by the kids, laughing as one of them stole the ball from him. He threw his hands up, pretending to be upset before running after the kids, making them laugh at his antics. She wondered if the kids knew who he was. He hadn’t once played the ‘I’m famous’ card, which was unexpected, and yet the more she got to know him, the more she realised Daniel was Daniel — utterly charming, utterly confusing.

“Hey” Daniel dropped down next to her on the towel, their shoulders almost touching as he laid back on his elbows. He sprawled his legs out in front of him, his shorts riding up to expose the tattoos on his thigh. The colours intrigued her and Adriana wanted to reach out and explore them.

“Done playing?” She asked.

“Yeah nah. Can’t keep up with those hooligans.” He joked, his accent coming on strong. He was smiling and he looked achingly adorable with his dimples and his curls sticking slightly to his sweaty forehead.

Daniel had to tip his head back to look at her from where he was lying. He loved the way her curls framed her face, all wild and loose — it hinted at all that fiery passion she kept hidden beneath her cool surface. He wished he knew enough about Greek mythology, because then he would have been able to compare her beauty — or attitude — to one of the goddesses. His eyes darted to the beauty mark just above her lips and the desire to dapple his tongue there, taste the salt on her skin stole over him.

“Good book?” He asked.

“Hmm”

That little hmm was so self-contained, it drove Daniel mad. He wanted to know everything about her, what her favourite movie was, what her favourite colour was, what made her tick. He wanted to burrow beneath her skin and see who the real Adriana was. He hated that, in that moment, she made him feel unsure of himself, made him feel like the Daniel with the unruly Afro and crooked teeth trying to impress a girl in high school.

“Want to go for a walk?” His voice was almost rough when he asked her. He could see for a moment she was about to refuse, then she surprised him as she nodded. So they got up, Daniel bending down to pick up the towel, shaking the sand from it, folding it carefully and handing it to her.

SHOES AND SANDALS discarded, toes sinking into the sand, they walked till the sounds of the village became faint, till the little houses and shops along the coast gave way to the rocky cliffs of the Costa Brava.

Daniel kept a steady stream of consciousness between them — it was impossible to not be charmed by him, to not laugh at his silly little quips. It was revealing to look at the world through his eyes, how he noticed things Adriana wouldn’t otherwise have, how he had her guessing whether the tidbits he was telling her about the sea were actually facts or stuff he had made up.

Adriana wanted to make him laugh too. She felt like a little girl desperate to impress her crush, but she couldn’t come up with anything remotely funny. So instead, she kept the shells he’d been handing her softly cradled in her palms, letting herself bask in his — magnetism.

They reached an outcrop of rocks that looked like they had been randomly stacked one over the other by nature. They climbed over the rocks, Daniel holding both of their shoes, patiently guiding her where to place her feet, sometimes holding her hand to steady her over some of the sharper edges. She was still holding his hand when they made it to the other side — her a bit out of breath and Daniel barely winded.

Adriana was breathless. “Oh my god, this is —“

“Beautiful.” Daniel said, his eyes roving across the horizon to land on her face.

It was truly beautiful.

The rocky bluffs curved out to the sea, creating this secluded cove detached from the rest of the world. The water here was so clear, the waves lapping languidly against the rocks, becoming a deeper blue further away from shore. It felt like Daniel and her had the whole ocean to themselves.

“Want to go for a swim?” Daniel asked. He grabbed his shirt by the neck, pulling it off. Adriana’s pulse flared as she took him in.

His body was compact, all sleek muscles stacked over more sleek muscles — his body just a machine designed for him to go the fastest he could in a race car.

“You go ahead.” She felt self-conscious to strip down to the modest black one-piece she had on underneath her linen shirt. Daniel hesitated for a moment, looking like he was about to convince her to join him, then he shrugged, giving her a mock salute, all dimples and smiles as he turned around and walked towards the water.

Adriana watched him go, intrigued by the play of muscles on his back. She watched as he swam further out, his strong arms gracefully cutting through the water. She watched until he was a speck on the horizon, then she quickly discarded her shirt and shorts. She slowly stepped into the water, first to her calves, then her knees, letting her body get used to the temperature. Then, when the water was up to her waist, she ducked down, quickly setting out into an easy freestyle stroke. She swam a bit further out, feeling a kind of joyous freedom she hadn’t felt in a long time.

She flipped onto her back, letting herself be buoyed by the sea, letting the water flow through her fingers and seep to the roots of her hair. The sun pressed intriguing shadows on her closed eyelids and for one brief moment, there was nothing but the silence of the rushing water in her ears.

Suddenly, she felt a tickling sensation on the heel of her feet and before she could react, there was something warm clasping her around the ankle. She went under, the salt stinging her eyes and nose as she came back up.

“Daniel!” She sputtered as she heard him laugh before she could even see him.

As soon as he had hit the water, Daniel had felt his muscles loosening with each stroke, the usual aches and pains from constantly pulling Gs easing.

He’d always had a somewhat odd relationship with the sea for a Perth boy, thanks to his mother instilling a healthy fear of sharks into him. He had only started feeling more comfortable in the water when he’d started spending time in LA. So, he’d been pretty relaxed when he had seen Adriana get into the water. All he could see from where he had been were flashes of golden limbs, but he’d been bewitched by her graceful movements.

He’d swam closer, enticed by the curves peeking out of the water. Like the sailors from the old tales, falling into the lure of the siren’s song.

He laughed now at the indignation on Adriana’s face.

“Oh you bastard!” She said as she splashed him. Daniel splashed her back, worried this might anger her more. Instead, she laughed, splashing him with renewed vigour, creating a lot of waves but none of them really having that sucker-punched effect on him. She was still laughing as he caught her by the waist, her hands automatically slipping around his neck.

The water lapped around them, pressing their bodies together, their legs tangling together, her smooth ones rubbing against his hair-roughened ones. They were so close together that Adriana could see the grain of his stubble, how the water clung to it. Each breath that she took pressed her breasts even tighter against his chest. His eyes looked like molten honey in the afternoon sunlight, filled with temptation.

Daniel looked down at her, the dark of her pupils had almost consumed the green of her eyes. He could see her lips quivering, that peak of her pink tongue driving him crazy. He leaned in, his breath barely a whisper against her skin.

Adriana felt the press of his mouth against her skin just where her pulse fluttered at the base of her neck, almost like a sigh. He trailed sweet deadly kisses to the corner of her mouth, stopping there just for a moment before he nipped at her bottom lip. His tongue laved the sting away, then swiped into her mouth, tangling with hers. She moaned as Daniel deepened the kiss, desire stealing over the both of them. His hands flexed on her waist, moving over the curve of her hips to her warm bare thighs, hooking them up and around his waist.

Adriana could feel him right there, pressing into the soft core of her. She didn’t stop to think — somehow this felt right, the feel of his warm skin under her hands, the rough rasp of his tongue against hers, the prickly sensation of his stubble against her skin.

Daniel cradled her against him, their hips rocking to the rhythm set by his tongue as he consumed her mouth. His hands moved almost reverently over the flare of her hips, his thumbs rubbing slow circles over her hip bones. He was so hard in his shorts, he desperately wanted to sink further into her softness, wanted to grind into her, wanted to feel her wet heat around him.

They broke apart, breaths choppy, a line of spit connecting them. It broke as Daniel tipped his head back, droplets of water running down the slope of his thick neck, the muscles bunching.

“Fuck.” His voice was guttural as he tried to catch his breath, his throat convulsing.

Adriana couldn’t resist it. She leaned into him, her teeth scraping over his Adam’s apple, her tongue snaking down to delve into the divot at the base of his throat. She traced the constellation of freckles on the side of his neck up to his ear with the tip of her tongue, giving him a mischievous smile as she tugged on his earlobe with her teeth, sucking it into her mouth.

She caught the hot glint in his eyes as his hand went to the nape of her neck, his long fingers twining into the wet strands of her hair and tugging her head back. His mouth came down on hers, but this time around, she didn’t give him control so easily. She reached out, cupping his face, slowing the kiss. She played with him like he had with her earlier, biting his bottom lip, sliding her tongue lazily along his.

Daniel was done being toyed with. He growled low in his throat, his mouth leaving hers to lick and kiss his way to the tantalising valley of her cleavage. He nipped at the swell of her breasts spilling over her bathing suit, pulling the straps down her shoulders, following the path with his mouth. Adriana gasped as he gave a sharp tug, her breasts coming free from the cups of her bathing suit, her nipples puckering as they touched the water.

Daniel had a smug smile on his face as he boosted her up, bringing her tits almost at eye-level with him. There was nowhere to hide now. With the straps of her bathing suit around her arms restricting her movements, all Adriana could do was hold onto his shoulders as Daniel lowered his head. He dragged his tongue over one taut nipple, his other hand coming up to plump her other breast, his thumb brushing over the other tight peak.

Adriana fisted one hand in his curls as Daniel sucked one nipple into the wet heat of his mouth, teasing, taunting, taking his fill as his teeth scraped over the sensitive nub. Each tight pull of his mouth felt like an echo at the pulsing core of her, making her slicker and wetter. She tightened her legs around his torso, her body undulating desperately against him in search of that fragment that felt slightly out of reach.

The desperate sounds that fell from her lips spurred Daniel on. Head thrown back, lips parted, her carefully composed veneer stripped away and abandoned — there hadn’t been a more beautiful sight to him. The fact that he had managed to turn her into this wrecked mess, that he could play her like a fiddle — it filled him with a heady rush of satisfaction, one he usually only got after winning a race. He was so high from that feeling, he could come from that alone.

He slipped his hand between their bodies, finding and pressing into her secret spot. In that moment, he wished there was no barrier between them because he wanted to know if she was bare down there or if there were dark curls shiny from her own wetness that would hide her from his view.

Her breath hitched for a moment and Daniel felt the sting of ruptured skin as she let go. Wave after wave, Adriana came. She tried to muffle the sounds she was making, but it felt like they were reverberating off the cliffs around them.

And Daniel revered in each desperate gasp of his name.

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#daniel ricciardo #daniel ricciardo fanfic #f1 fanfic #f1 fanfiction #daniel ricciardo imagine #daniel ricciardo smut #it happened one summer night

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laurancezvahlslefteyebrow · 11 days

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Headcanon that Laurance knows multiple languages:

Like obviously he’s fluent in Ru’Aunian (english), but I think he’d also be semi fluent in french and spanish (or whatever the in universe equivalent is). He comes from a pirate town, and there are a lot of “french” and “spainish” pirates and sailors that come to port so he picked up some things. I think Joh was probably rather fluent so he likely learned from him.

I think he’d know some conversational Galish (the main language of Gal’Ruk) and Southern Tulian. I imagine Galish is similar to Norwegian and Southern Tulian is similar to Japanese.

Travis definitely taught him all the Galish he knows and Nana, being from Southern Tu’La taught him not only a bit of Southern Tulian but also some common Meif’wa hand signs, as many of them (including her) sometimes prefer to speak nonverbally.

He also knows quite a bit of Old Ru’Aunian, as it’s what they mostly speak in the Nether. He doesn’t like speaking or reading it, as it brings up a lot of bad memories. But it can come in handy when needing a private conversation with Aphmau, when reading old texts, and when they meet Malachi. Malachi really only speaks the old language when they first meet him, so Aph and Laur are the only ones whom he can really speak to, partly why he’s so attached to them and views them as his parents.

Laury really likes learning new languages, and he always has. Like when he met Cadenza.

Cadenza spoke Ru’Aunian (obviously, she’s from Ru’Aun), but she also spoke a regional dialect from her old village Zerimar. This dialect sounds a bit like a cross between english and russian. To most, it’s just jibberish, but if you take the time to break it down it makes much more sense. As kids (and adults) Laurance and Cadenza would speak Zerimarian when they didn’t want anyone to know what they were saying. Much to Hayden and Joh’s disapproval, as Cadenza refused to teach them.

Not only that, but the only other Zeriamrian in Meteli, Kenmur, wouldn’t teach them either. Much too afraid of what Cadenza would do to him if he did.

I also think he’d know a little greek (again whatever the in universe equivalent is). I headcanon him as greek, so I think his parents spoke it. He was young when they died and he’s spoken Ru’Aunian most of his life, but I think as he grows he decides to relearn some to kind of regain a bit of what he’s lost.

#thank you that is all #aphmau #minecraft diaries #aphmau fandom #i don’t support aphmau #mcd #minecraft diaries aphmau #aphmau mcyt #mcd aphmau #mcyt #aphblr #aphverse #laurance zvahl #laurence zvahl #cadenza zvahl #aphmau headcanons #mcd headcanons #headcanons #language

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riality-check · 1 year

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Out of all the languages she knows, Robin thinks English is the worst.

It’s so… restricted. English has a lot of words, and it has a lot of fun words, but they’re all so broad. English has a few words that mean a lot of things. It’s confusing and takes five more sentences and mental gymnastics to understand the specific meaning of a phrase that could be conveyed much better in Spanish or French.

This is part of the reason why she wants to learn German, once she’s got a good enough grasp on Russian. They have specific words, and they actually use them. That and it should be pretty easy, as a native English speaker.

Reading Cyrillic was fun and all, but her brain needs a break.

All of this, of course, is the subject of her latest ramble to Steve since her parents already know and no one else listens to her the way he does.

(She repays the favor when baseball season rolls around, and he starts spitting stats at her. She thinks that if the word problems in school were about baseball, or if he believed in himself enough to take a statistics course, he would have kicked ass at math.)

“There’s only one way to say I love you in English, and that’s so stupid!” she says, starfished on top of Steve’s bed. God, his sheets are soft. “In other languages, there’s ways to say it to friends, to family, to whoever you’re dating-”

“Wait, really?” Steve glances at her in the mirror. His hands fuss at his hair, which, as always, looks fine.

She’s a little jealous of that.

“Yeah,” she says. She sits up and shakes her hair out of her face. “Like, in Italian, you say ti amo, which means I love you, to who you’re dating, and that’s only if it’s super serious.”

Steve straightens the collar of his shirt, the blue one with the white stripe, and turns back to her. “What do you say otherwise?”

“Ti voglio bene,” she answers automatically.

“What’s that mean?” Steve asks. He moves sits down across from her, tucking his knees to his chest.

That can’t be comfortable in jeans, but that’s what Robin has affectionately dubbed Steve’s listening position, so she knows he’s paying attention and actually cares.

“I means I love you,” she says.

“No, like…”

“Oh, do you mean the literal translation?”

“Yeah,” Steve says. “What’s it mean?”

Robin wracks her brain for a few seconds before she remembers. “It means I want you well.”

Steve cocks his head at her in the way that reminds her of a curious, confused dog.

“It doesn’t translate super well,” Robin says. “So it doesn’t make a lot of sense.”

Steve shakes his head. “No, I think it does.”

“What do you mean?”

“Like, if you love someone, you want them to be happy and healthy,” Steve explains. “You want things to be good for them. You want them well.”

And Steve says he isn’t smart.

“It makes a lot of sense when you say it like that,” Robin says.

Steve cracks a small smile. “Can you teach me how to say it?”

“What, ti voglio bene?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay,” Robin says. She reminds herself to not get too excited because that’s weird, then promptly throws that thought out of her head.

She’s with Steve, and she can be as weird and excited as she wants.

“Repeat after me. Tea.”

“Tea.”

“Vole.”

“Yee.”

“Oh.”

“Ben.”

“Ay.”

“Okay, ti voglio bene,” Robin says.

“Tea vole-yee-oh ben-ay,” Steve says, awkward and stilted.

Robin itches to correct his pronunciation, but she stops herself. She remembers that it’s really hard for native English speakers to get from the “vole” to the “yee” and have it sound correct unless they grew up speaking those sounds.

Mentally, she thanks her nonna for insisting on correct pronunciation.

“Not bad,” she says honestly.

Steve picks at the cuff of his light wash jeans. “It wasn’t great.”

“It wasn’t bad,” she argues.

“I think I’ll stick to English,” Steve says.

“Okay,” Robin says. “But you’ve got potential.”

“I want you well, Robin,” he says, and then he grimaces. “That sounds prettier in Italian.”

“Everything sounds prettier in Italian. Even insults.”

Steve laughs, and Robin nudges his leg with her foot.

“I want you well, too,” she says, and she thinks that it might actually sound better in the language they both understand.

#stobin #steve harrington #robin buckley #stranger things #stranger things ficlet #st #st ficlet #platonic with a capital p #ria writes #fluff #inspired by a conversation with my grandparents

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dumbmusclehypnojockboy · 4 months

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A story for @octuscle Merry Christmas. I'm sorry it's a bit rushed, and kinda slapdash, but you know what happened. I hope you like it!

Going Back to College

Jerry was forty years old. He was celebrating his birthday alone, again. Somehow, after graduating college, Jerry set out to change the world, but all that really changed was Jerry waist, which continued to grow wider and wider. Jerry hated his life. He was a doctor, but with the cost of insurance, and having his own office, Jerry couldn’t get anywhere in life. And no matter how hard he tried, Jerry felt like he was just treading water. Jerry picked up the paper and glanced at it, and then read the headline story again and again. He threw down the newspaper in disgust. On the front page was a well-muscled man, doing a double biceps pose, in front of his tenth gym franchise. The man, Rick Jenkins, was a huge success, becoming a millionaire at thirty, and now at forty had his gym franchise, a supplement empire and his own fashion brand. He was also now a billionaire. Jerry was disgusted. In freshman year of college, Rick had been his roommate. Rick was your typical dumb as rocks jock, or so Jerry had thought. They had nothing in common with each other. But, looking back at his life, he realized that he had been condescending and rude to Rick, while Rick had always tried to get along with Jerry. In fact, there was this time when Rick had offered to take Jerry to the gym for what Rick had claimed was what he designed to be a non-intimidating workout that anyone could do and get good results. Why couldn’t I have made an effort back then? Or have at least been a little nicer to him? Then, Jerry had an idea. He grabbed one of the birthday cupcakes he had baked for himself, put a candle on it, and lit it. He sang ‘Happy Birthday’ to himself, and closed his eyes, to envision the wish he wanted. Jerry took a deep breath and made his wish, “I wish I had gone on those workouts with Rick, and been nicer to him.” And then, blew out the candle.

And then, it happened. In a rush of glittery blue wormhole, Jerry found himself back in his college dorm. It was move-in day, and Jerry had already found himself frustrated with his new roommate. “Sorry for the mess, roomie, but the football team has this hazing ritual and has really been keeping us busy. I’ll clean it up as soon as I can.” Rick had said. “I remember I got really snippy with him. Maybe I can be nicer person,” Jerry thought to himself. “It’s not a problem, Rick, just clean up when you get to it, ok?” “For sure. Thanks for not making a big deal out of it.” And their relationship had gotten off on a much better foot than it did last time. Fast forward to October, and Jerry and Rich were pretty unrepeatable. They went to whatever classes they had in common together, which surprising to Jerry were quite a lot.

They were both taking biology together, and Rick was even taking Calculus I. They were both in the freshman English class, and were even in the same Western Civ and Spanish I classes. The only thing that was different was Jerry was also taking a pre-medicine class and an extra science lab class, while Rich had a bodybuilding class in addition to being on the football team. They would often get lunch and dinner together. One day, when Jerry told Rich about how stressful it was to take a full eighteen-hour schedule, Rich offered to take Jerry to the gym for a non-intimidating workout. Jerry was about to explode at Rich, but remembered that he was being nice to his roommate, and told Rich that he wanted to try the gym but was always too busy or too scared. Rich explained that he had been developing this non-intimidating work out plans for a few years now, and offered Jerry the chance to workout with him.

“Jerry, three, two, one, sleep. You are under my control, you are excited to workout with me, even though you may think you’re apprehensive, you’re excited. Any work out plan I give you may seem difficult, but will be totally not intimidating. Your find yourself wanting more and more to come work out with me. Now I want you to go deeper and deeper, repeating my words until you go into a deep sleep, repeating my words in your sleep, and wake up when your alarm wakes you.“

So, with apprehension, Jerry found himself going to the gym with Rick. Rick’s personality put Jerry at total ease. And Rick’s work out plan was totally not intimidating. Jerry found it easy to go from exercise to exercise, and whenever Jerry had a problem, he found Rick right there to help with his workout. By November, Jerry felt his stress had totally disappeared thanks to Rick’s workouts. And he knew he started seeing results from the gym. Noting earth-shattering, but his shoulders and lats were becoming more prominent, while his belly was shrinking. And his arms and legs were becoming more defined and he could even see hints of pecs and biceps popping up a little. Rick noticed too and would always compliment Jerry on his “gainz”. Whenever Rick would say “gainz” around Jerry, Jerry would always have this unusual feeling come over him, and his brain would kind of blink out for a second or two. And he would always wake up to Rick telling him that he was doing such a great job and that he should keep up his workouts, bro!

It was December, and Jerry was at the gym. He was alone in the locker room, and flexed in a mirror. He was amazed how much he had changed. He couldn’t believe it but he had biceps. Actual biceps, and abs. He had a full-on rock wall of six solid abs! “Hey, Jer-bro! I knew you could do it! That high-protein, low carb diet really did wonders for you!” Rick said. “And check out all those gainz!”

And again, that weird whirly feeling went through my brain. This time though, Jerry could hear Rick saying something to him. “Hey Jer-bro, you like it when I call you that. I need you to shift your concentration a bit. I need you to get into sports medicine. You can to that for be Jer-bro, I mean after I’ve heled you so much get rid of your stress, and helping your gainz in the gym. You’re just a little hazy on working as a surgeon or an oncologist, but your brain seems totally focused on going into sports medicine and we can be partners. That’s gonna be so fucking cool. So, keep up your work outs bro! You’re doing so fucking awesome!”

Jer woke up a little foggy. He’d just had an awesome workout, and Rick had come up to him to encourage him a always. And did he say something after that? Nah, he’d just be as encouraging as always. He’d be going home for the holidays. He wasn’t looking forward to talking about shifting his concentration. Surgeons and oncologists made lots of money, but he was really interested in sports medicine. It was becoming his passion.

It was now sophomore year. Rick and Jer-bro had decided to stay roommates. Jer was especially happy to room with Rick. It seemed Rick help keep his stress levels away. Why didn’t he want to hang with Rick before? Rick was his bro! Rick was such an awesome bro! He could always look up to Rick. Jerry was in his second year, and he was still eager to graduate with a degree in sports medicine. So, his schedule was not as full as last year, but still very full. He took sophomore English, and Western Civ 2. He also took Spanish 2, and Calc 2, and for his sports medicine focus he took Anatomy 1 and Sports Med 1. Surprisingly, Rick was in 4 of his six classes. The only difference was instead of sports med, Rick was taking a business class and a psychology class.

The year progressed really well with Jer-bro making awesome gainz in the gym, but grades falling to the B-C level. And Rick was doing awesome. He was now the starting quarterback on the school team, and the whole team was very dedicated to playing football and winning a state championship. The coach even allowed Rick to lead in some kind of motivational meditation before each and every practice and game. This seemed to make the team even more thirsty to win the school’s first championship ever.

At the end of sophomore year, the football team won it’s first division championship. Jer-bro even took time off from his classes to paint his face and cheer on Rick during the championship game. He had listened to Rick who told him that football was something that he was becoming really passionate about. And after a while, Jer-bro couldn’t remember a time when he wasn’t passionate about college football. By the end of the season, Jer-bro could tell you any stats about the college’s last 20 years. And he was even becoming a Las Vegas Raiders fan, which was Jerry’s team too.

During Junior year, Jer-bro and Rick were totally unrepeatable. The only time they were apart was when Jer-bro went to his medically focused classes and Rick when to his Business and Psychology classes. One night, Jer-bro heard some sounds coming from the headphones on his ears. “Rick is right. Listen to Rick. Rick gives you gainz. Rick is your bro. Listen to Rick.” Jer-bro realized this was stuff he already knew, so he closed his eyes and went back into a deep sleep.

During this year, Jer-bro noticed some nerdy guys hanging around Rick, and he grew a little concerned. So, he asked Rick about it. “Rick, why are you hanging out with all the nerds?” he asked. Rick responded, “Remember the unintimidating workouts you started with? I’m refining them for a general audience and I’m making great progress.” “Cool,” was Jer-bro’s only reply.

Later on in the year, Jer-bro once again heard the whispering in his ears. It was now second nature for him to absorb the information but ignoring it. He heard Rick telling him, “For your senior project, you will create the perfect protein powder, muscle growth supplement, with one undisclosed side effect, it makes people dumber. I know you can do this for me, Jer-bro. For us. You will do this for your senior project. You will continue your workout and continue to get awesome gains. All for Rick. All because of Rick.”

Senior year, was awesome. Jer-bro kept working on his senior project with a singular focus. He continued to workout at the gym and by the time graduation came around, Jer-bro looked like an amateur bodybuilder. He would zone out at times, so people thought he was kind of a dumb ass, but underneath all the muscle was a huge intellect, focused on sports medicine. He had finished the protein powder that Rick told him to make and now, they would begin a business together. Speaking of Rick, he had gotten investments from some of his former teammates who he had persuaded to go into finance and investment. His team had continued to do so well this year, the had gone to the Rose Bowl and won! Rick had even picked up the Heisman trophy. At graduation, Rick was ready to start his supplement company with Jer-bro and had all the financial backing he needed.

Jer is now 25. He’s more rich than he was when he was 40. He’s also quite a bit dumber. After trying some of the muscle growth protein powder, Jer couldn’t help but become addicted to it. He grew his muscles until he was little more than a musclehead. Only into working out and having sex. He still knew how to calculate his micro nutrients and count his reps out. But that was all his life consisted of these days. And he was very happy.

As for Rick? He became a millionaire at 24. By the age of 30, Rick owned his franchise of gyms all over the world, and with his muscle growth protein powder, range of “motivational hypnosis patreons” and fashion brand, he was now a billionaire. Jerry had been the perfect test subject for his hypnosis during the first month of rooming together, and that had given him all the confidence to try his methods first on his coach, then going on to the rest of his teammates. And that had made all the difference.

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hauntedtrait · 9 months

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🐴Once Upon A Time In Chestnut Ridge: A Bachelor Challenge

Meet Dakota Blue Heron, Chestnut Ridge's most eligible bachelor!

Dakota is 29, stands 6'3 tall, living on Crow's Head ranch, primarily a horse ranch that is open for guests in the spring and summer months. The ranch is owned and operated by the Heron family, being passed down through generations for over a century. Kindly, Dakota's parents have allowed the ranch to be used this season, in hopes that the show's popularity will help bring in more guests and customers.

Dakota accepted the network's offer to be Bachelor in hopes of finding a life partner, having little time to meet new people in his regular life. Also because, in his words, "this seems fun!"

Here's a few things he wants potential contestants to know about him: he spends his days working in various different parts of the ranch (in the horse stalls and gardens especially), he grows most of his food and whatever he doesn't grow he sources from local and ethical producers, he loves being surrounded by people (especially those he holds dearly), occasionally hunts (deer and invasive species mostly). He speaks navajo, navajo sign language, english and spanish, and is a tribal member of the navajo nation. Dakota wants kids and is looking for a partner with similar desires to start a family.

Keep reading below for more info!

Likes: fellow animal enthusiasts, physical contact (his love language), his grandmother's cooking, gardening, spending his days outside, being with family, cinnamon, old hollywood films, people who are connected to their families or communities, fry bread

Dislikes: being cooped up inside, snow days, musical theater, cilantro (he's got the soap taste gene), sudden loud sounds, stand up comedy, cold showers, people who don't like getting dirty, cops, cigarette smoke

GUIDELINES:

8 contestants will be accepted

contestants should have at least 5 likes and/or dislikes

contestants have 15 skill points to distribute as they wish

contestants can have 3-5 traits, except for unflirty or romantic, do give them at least one negative trait, it's more fun that way

unfortunately, only human contestants for this one. YA and adult only, any amount of story/backstory, any aspiration except for romance related aspirations, any gender (pleaseeee give them pronouns). include all this information in your entry please.

any cc and outfits, though try to keep to 1 outfit per category. maxis match or maxis mix is fine EXCEPT for alpha hairs, no alpha hairs please.

Download can be private or public, up to you, BUT please include ALL cc in the download!

i own most of the packs except for some of the kits, but i do have the ‘kits made bgc’ so i can replace stuff if needed

i will be changing skin details and giving them more outfits, if you submit a sim you are consenting to have them be changed to fit my sim style. honestly i highly encourage everyone to use sliders and custom presets, i think sims look a lot better with those and i dont love how vanilla presets look tbh

if you do not have the horse ranch pack but would like for certain skills, traits or aspirations from the pack to be used on your sim, let me know and i will add it in game!

tag me in your posts and use the hashtag #chestnutbc

UPDATE:

NEW DEADLINE: AUGUST 14

PLEASE READ:

As stated previously, Dakota likesmasculine-leaning sims. No strict gender preference, but I am looking for masculine contestants. Be it women who are more butch, masc leaning non binary, cis or trans men on the masculine side of the spectrum. Dakota's type tends to be people with muscles, masculine-leaning, who look like they could pick him up and throw him around. Dad types are a plus too. He prefers people who aren't very skinny, who have some meat on their bones. Strong types, protective vibes, and obviously people who can and are willing to work on a farm and live and deal with animals every day, it's not easy work!

#sims 4 bachelor challenge #s4 bachelor challenge #s4bachelor #sims 4 bachelor #ts4bachelor #ts4 bachelor challenge #ouaticr #🐴

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frankenstein-ate-my-left-shoe · 1 year

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here's the first part to a little domestic steddie thing that I don't have a name for yet, but I thought it up last night and couldn't sleep while I started planning it in my head.

highlights will include: friends to lovers, roommates, slice of life, getting together, hispanic!eddie (MY LOVE), i may sprinkle in the fact that Steve is HOH (but I haven't decided if i'd like him to be in this one), and possibly the first smut i'll have ever written 👀

this is just to get my thoughts out so go into this knowing that at Robin and Steve know that Eddie is Gay, Eddie and Steve know that Robin is gay, and only Robin knows that Steve thinks he's bi. You know, classic steddie fic things.

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“Okay, you guys, time to head out, no Dustin, you can’t stay the night.”

“Damn, how’d you know? Dustin asks, picking up his bag and shuffling toward the door to get his shoes on.

“Because you always ask.” Will admonishes his friend.

“Exactly. Thank you, Will.”

“I can’t believe the last session is next week.” Lucas says to himself, slipping on his shoes and ducking down quickly to arrange Max’s in front of her so she can get them on.

“Oh no, what will we do then?” the Max in question snarks back.

“You don’t even play, you can’t be sarcastic about it.”

“Don’t tell me what I can and can’t be sarcastic about, Wheeler.” Max follows Mike out the door and smacks him in the shin with her cane.

“We will see you tomorrow Steve?” El asks, stopping at his side to look up at him with those curious eyes.

“Of course, supergirl, it’s the ‘Everything’s Fine’ party.” He grins at her and she smiles back, moving to grab her shoes as well. Steve stops her “Everything is fine, right?”

She stares off into space for just a second, then smiles back up at him. “Yes. I do not feel any of the Upside Down or of One.”

Steve lets out the breath he always holds when he checks with one of what they are now calling “The Wonder Twins”, El and Will. “Thanks, El, sorry to always ask.”

“It is okay, Steve. I don’t mind.”

“Alright you lot, you heard Stevie. ¡Ya deja de chingar! Ándale, ándale!” Eddie yells at the kids, shoo-ing them out the front door and into his van while the other Hellfire guys get into Jeff’s car. They’d officially disbanded Hellfire after everything happened last year, but still meet for D&D (now at Steve’s house) under a still undecided name.

“No need to be rude, Eduardo, we’re going.” Erica taunts him.

Eddie seems to glitch out, “¿Sabes español?”

“Eso si.”

Eddie sucks his teeth, “Dios mio, now I gotta deal with that; alright, lets go, crotch-goblins, gotta get you home. Be back soon, cariño!” He yells to Steve, still on the front step before he points to Erica and shuts the door in her face.

“I still have no idea what he’s calling me. Why don’t you just tell me? You know spanish.” Steve asks Robin as he comes back inside and closes the door.

“Yeah, but I don’t want to intrude.”

“You literally translated secret russian code, is that not intruding?”

“Yeah, but like, they don’t matter. Eddie does.” He’s looking at her like she’s crazy. “It feels like spying on a friend.”

“Whatever you say, Buckley.”

“Just ask Eddie to teach you. He could use the practice”

“What do you mean? He’s fluent isn’t he?”

“Well, he really only has Wayne to speak spanish with regularly, sometimes me, but usually it’s english. He could start to lose it.”

“That can happen?”

“Yeah, sometimes. I don’t have many people to talk to in Italian, so that’s my worst language. I used to be fluent in that too but if I don’t use it, I lose it.” she shrugs and Steve takes that in.

“I just want to know what he’s calling me, it’s not anything bad is it?”

She smiles softly at him, “No Dingus, it’s not bad. Promise.”

They clean up the rest of the stuff lying around from the kids being there, Robin is rambling on about something that happened at her last solo shift at work, and Steve’s trying to contain his nerves.

“Querido, Estoy en casa!” Eddie yells from the doorway when he gets back. “Now what’s this surprise?”

“Let me guess, ‘Honey, I’m home’?” Steve asks, rounding the corner from the kitchen, still drying his hands.

Eddie points at him, “You got it, Querido.” and gives him a wink before waltzing his way into the living room in front of Steve.

Steve rolls his eyes fondly, and wills the heat that’d crept up on his face from being called ‘Honey’ away while he puts the towel back in the kitchen.

“Okay,” he claps his hands when he walks into the living room, his two friends sitting on the couch in front of him “I have a proposal for you.”

“Oh, Stevie! Of course I’ll marry you!” Eddie jumps up and immediately koalas onto Steve, causing him to take a stabilizing step backward.

“Not that kind of proposal, Eds.” Steve chuckles and goes to unwrap Eddie’s arms and legs from around him.

“So you’re not gonna make an honest woman outta me?” Robin says from the couch as Steve comes around the coffee table, Eddie still latched to his front.

“No, Robs, still not that kind of proposal, sorry.”

Steve finally gets Eddie’s limbs out from around him over the couch so he bounces to a landing on the couch next to Robin.

“That’s bogus..”

“Here.” Steve hands them each a manila folder from the mantle, each one with their name written on it in a thick black marker.

“Okay, here goes. So it’s been a year since Vecna, Will and El both haven’t felt hide nor hair of him since, and since these goddamn events usually happen at least once a year, I think we are in the clear.” He pauses to knock on the wooden coffee table. “So I figure now that Eddie is healed all the way, and he and Wayne are set up well enough again with their hush money, Max is doing pretty good at her physical therapy, the Byers are back in town with a not-dead Hopper….well.”

He gestures to their folders, and they both look down at the same time, like they’d forgotten they were there.

As they open them and start flipping through their stack of papers, Steve continues. “Robin, I know you wanted to take a gap year anyway, so I put down entry for the fall of ‘87 on the applications I sent in, I hope that’s okay.” She looks up at him in shock. “There’s a great International Relations program there too if you want to stay after you get your core classes out of the way? But there are a couple acceptance letters in there so you can take your pick. And I got a job at this little diner nearby to the campus just because I wanted to, but I will pay your way if you want since I’m the one who applied for you so you can just live off your hush money.”

“A-and Eddie, I asked around and there’s a great underground music scene that I think you’d fit right into, and I met a guy named Daryl who was real nice and owned a music shop down the road from the diner who is uhm…something? He wrote “call me” and his number on the flyer he gave me so I feel like it’d maybe be safe for you to work there i-if you wanted to, you know. You could also just live off your hush money. I don’t mind.”

Both of them are stock still and dead quiet. He finally looks down at them on the couch.

Both of their faces are blank, like they don’t know what it is they are supposed to feel, which, Steve supposes, is better than pissed off.

“Oh fuck, this was too much wasn’t it? Sorry, sorry, just pretend I didn’t say anything, I’ll just—“ he reaches for their papers and they both jerk away from him at the same time.

“Fuck off, this is my stack of papers, get your own!” Eddie yells at the same time Robin yells “No! I’m keeping these forever!” and Steve pulls his hands back in surrender.

“You still haven’t gotten to the proposal part, Dingus. What’s going on?”

“Oh! Uhm, I bought a house? In Indianapolis? My parents are staying away after the earthquake, and sold the house so I leave to sign the last papers and get the keys in two weeks. So that means Eddie can finish his D&D thing in time too.”

They’re quiet for a beat again, then Eddie asks “You bought a house?”

“Yeah, with the money I saved up from Scoops and Family Video, plus what my parents would leave..I only had to use a little bit of my government money in the end. It’s not much, and it needs work that’s why I got it as cheap as I did, but it has three bedrooms and two bathrooms, and—actually, I put pictures at the bottom of your stacks if you want to-“

They both shuffle their papers around until they find what they’re looking for. Then immediately look at the others’ like they are comparing notes.

“Robin, that’s the bedroom at the front of the house, it’s got two windows and one has a window seat, so you’ll get plenty of light, and Eddie, your bedroom is the one in the back corner, it’s only got one window but it’s pretty big and I thought that maybe you’d like that one since it just looks out into the woods like yours used to in your trailer. I was going to take the master, but Robin, if you want that instead so you don’t have to share a bathroom with one of us, that’s cool too, I don’t mind.” Steve rushes it all out.

“You want us to move with you?” Eddie’s voice is quiet, eyes wide.

“Uhm, yeah. I do. That’s the proposal. I figured I’d ask you guys to come with. That way we’re out of Hawkins but still close enough if something does happen,” Steve knocks on the coffee table again with two knuckles, “Robin can go to school, and hopefully Indy is far enough out of the way that Eddie can make a clean-ish start?

“And you don’t have to pay rent, It’s all paid for with cash so just maybe buy groceries, or help with the utilities? Or none of it! Like I said, I kinda just thrust this upon you, so no worries if you want to just mooch.” he huffs out a nervous laugh.

Eddie and Robin take a look at each other then Robin is shooting off the couch and (almost tripping) over the coffee table to latch onto Steve

“Of course I’m coming with you, Dingus, we’re two halves of a whole idiot, we gotta stick together.” She unhooks from him and starts wandering away up the stairs, talking about ‘We gotta tell Keith, and my mom is going to be so excited, but she’s definitely going to think I’m pregnant or something,’ like she’s going to pack away her overnight bag from the guest room and be ready to go just like that.

“Eddie? What about you? I get it if you don’t, but like I said, I figured you’d want to get out of here too an–”

“Joder si, pendejo! I’m not gonna turn down a chance to get the fuck outta here!” He jumps up and crashes into Steve once again, squeezing him tight. “It means a lot that you’d want me to come with, Stevie.” He says quietly over Steve’s shoulder.

Steve wraps his arms around Eddie and stuffs his face into his curls, he smells like cinnamon. “Of course Eddie, anytime.”

Eddie pulls back with a soft smile, and gives Steve a look that makes him want to melt into a puddle. Eddie’s gaze flicks down momentarily, then there's a creak from the stairs and Eddie lets him go, backing towards the door. “I gotta go tell Wayne, he’s really going to be excited for me to get outta his hai–out from under his feet.”

Steve busts out laughing at that “I’m so gonna tell him that you said that.”

“You better not, pendejo, otherwise he’ll kill me dead and you’ll have one less roommate!” then Eddie’s turning and flying out the door to his van, taking off toward his and his uncle's new shared apartment.

“Okay, that one’s bad.” Robin says when she’s come down the stairs.

“Pendejo?”

“Yeah, it means ‘asshole’.” She laughs at Steve’s hurt expression, “Oh don’t take it too seriously, Dingus, obviously he was saying it in a joking way.”

“I really need to learn spanish.”

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I translated the best I could, PLEASE tell me if something is off in translation:

"¡Ya deja de chingar! Ándale, ándale!" - basically, "Stop your bitching! Hurry up!"

“¿Sabes español?” - You know spanish?

"Eso si" - Yes indeed (my husband says this one a lot lmao)

"cariño" - sweetheart

"Dios mio" - oh my god

“Querido, Estoy en casa!” - Honey, I'm home! (Querido meaning honey, darling, love, etc.)

"Joder si, pendejo!" - Fuck yeah, asshole! (said affectionately :) )

#steddie #steve x eddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #hispanic!eddie #hispanic!eddie munson #robin buckley #the party #st #stranger things #st ficlet #stranger things ficlet #fic #steddie fic #noelle writes

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in-a-nook-with-a-notebook · 9 months

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I'm Tired

Franchise: Marvel (Moon Knight)

Pairing: Marc Spector & Steven Grant x male!reader (reader's pronouns are he/him/his)

Word Count: 3.9k

Warnings: angst, swearing, blood, angst, guns, severe injuries, angst, sad Marc, angry Marc, sad Steven, DID I MENTION ANGST

Summary: A mission in Guatemala goes perfectly. Well, not so perfectly.

A/N: get your translators out, it takes place in Guatemala and there's a lot of Spanish and I forgot to write down the English translations and I don't speak Spanish so I just used Google Translate (I'm sorry if I got anything wrong); also, reader used to be the avatar of Osiris but in the same way Mrc/Steve/Jake are the avatar of Khonshu, like he went on missions and had powers and stuff

The mission was a success.

Khonshu had you, Marc and Steven deal with a drug ring that had been terrorizing a small town in Guatemala. The ring was taken down, the threat was neutralized, and the town was safe once again. Everything went according to plan.

Until it didn’t.

You were already pretty busted up after your scrapes with the members of the cartel and you were wishing you still had Osiris’s protection. You were limping, favouring your left leg; your arm was definitely broken in at least three places; and there was blood everywhere. As you were walking to meet Marc and Steven outside, you heard shuffling behind you.

“Marc?” You murmured quietly, hoping it was one of your moon boys. “Steven?”

Instead, you were met with a member of the cartel that you hadn’t yet neutralized. Before you can react, the man draws his gun and shoots you twice in the gut. Without further ado, he runs off into hiding.

You’re too surprised to react any way other than shocked. Your hands fly up to cover your stomach as blood pours out between your fingers. You gasp for air and blood trickles from your lips. You stumble into the wall for support. Your senses stop working; you can’t hear anything other than your own ragged, uneven breathing. Your vision blurs, clears, then blurs again. You vaguely think you can hear your boys calling for you, but you can’t be sure.

You slide to the ground, still clutching your bleeding stomach. A figure kneels next you; judging by the cape you think you see, it’s Marc.

Your ears are ringing. If he’s talking to you, you can’t tell. His firm hands cup your cheeks, tilting your head to look at him. You blink your bleary eyes, begging silently for them to focus. Coughs suddenly wrack your body and you almost double over when more blood leaves your mouth. Marc’s talking is still muffled, but he picks you up with no argument from you.

Your good arm is pressed against his chest and your head falls onto his shoulder.

“…Breathing,” Marc says. It’s the end of a sentence and your hearing only returns to hear the last word. “Just keep breathing, baby.”

“M-Marc,” you say weakly.

“Hey, there you are,” Marc says through a nervous laugh. “You’re gonna be okay.”

“Where…” You interrupt yourself with another cough. “Steven?”

“I’m gonna get you back to the car and then I’ll let Steven out, okay?”

You nod slowly, burying your face in his shoulder. “Hurts,” you whisper. Your forehead is pressed against the bandage fabric of his suit.

“I know, baby, I know. We’re almost there, I promise. We’re gonna get you help.”

“Layla?” You ask softly.

“I’ll call her, it’s alright. Just stay awake for me, okay?”

Though it feels like an eternity, you reach the car where Marc had hidden it before you went in to take out the drug ring. He manages to get you into the front passenger seat. Your head droops tiredly as Marc takes a step back. His suit dematerializes and a moment later, a worried British accent meets your ears.

“Y/N?” Steven asks, leaning into the car to look you over. “Oh my days, I didn’t want it to be as bad as it looked… we’ve gotta get you to hospital, love…”

Marc takes the body again, shuts the door, and jogs back to the driver’s side to get the car started. You can feel yourself slipping out of consciousness as the drive begins. The vibrations from the rough terrain mixed with the heat inside the vehicle threaten to lull you to sleep.

“I’m tired, babe,” you whisper.

“No, no, no, stay with me, stay with me,” Marc says. He reaches over to you and takes your hand in his, despite the coating of blood over your palm and fingers. “We’re gonna be okay. I’ve got you, we’re getting help. You’re gonna be okay.”

The numbness you had originally felt begins to fade and you wince, screwing your eyes shut as pain begins to wash over you.

“M-Marc, it… it hurts…” The car bounces over a bump in the road and you gasp in pain, your head hitting the headrest, which definitely isn’t good for the already pounding ache that already resides there - you might have a concussion.

“Just hold on, baby, we’re almost there.”

You don’t entirely remember what else happens on the way to the closest hospital. It’s all a blur, even as Marc pretty much carries you into the emergency room, yelling in Spanish for anyone’s attention.

“Necesitamos un doctor!” He hollers. “Por favor, necesita ayuda, por favor!”

Somehow, you find yourself on a gurney. A drop of blood drips from the corner of your mouth when you start to cough again. Everyone around you is shouting in Spanish. You can’t entirely understand them; Marc only just started teaching you and Steven how to understand Spanish about a month ago. One nurse in particular has their hands putting pressure on your wounds to keep you from bleeding out more than you already have. You know Marc is with you because he’s still holding your hand, refusing to let go of you.

“No lo dejes morir, no puede morir, por favor,” Marc begs the doctors, keeping his firm grasp on your hand.“No puedo perderlo.”

“Vamos a hacer todo lo que podamos, señor,” one of the nurses says. “Puedes decirme tu nombre y el de él?”

“Soy…” Marc hesitates. “Soy Marc Spector. Se llama Y/N L/N.”

“Sr. Spector, voy a necesitar que mantenga la calma, por favor. Cuidaremos bien de él, pero necesitamos que lo sueltes por ahora, de acuerdo?”

“Marc,” you groan, your face scrunched in pain. “Don’t go, please, don’t go.”

“I have to, baby, I’m sorry. They’re going to take care of you, okay? I’ll be there when you wake up, I promise.”

Very reluctantly, Marc lets his hand drop from yours. He watches the nurses roll your gurney down the hallway until you turn a corner. That’s when he breaks.

He stumbles back into the wall, sliding to the floor and burying his head in his hands. Silent sobs begin to wrack his body, tears streaming down his face. His fingers rake through his hair and his eyes are already burning.

“I should’ve been there,” he murmurs half to himself and half to Steven’s reflection on the floor. “We should have been there.”

“Marc, we can’t blame ourselves for this,” Steven says gently. “All we can do is hope we got there in time for him to be okay. All we can do is wait.”

“Sr. Spector?”

Marc looks up to see one of the doctors that had rolled your gurney to surgery. He quickly composes himself, wiping his eyes with the heels of his hands and pushing himself to his feet. “Sí? Puedo ayudarlo, doctor?”

“Puedo hacerle algunas preguntas sobre sus heridas? También tengo papeleo que necesito que llenes. Solo necesitamos toda la información que podamos recopilar para poder ayudar a su…?” He hesitates.

“Mi amigo,” Marc says, awkwardly and reluctantly, “pero es más o menos de la familia. Lo amo, sabes?”

“Eres familia, esencialmente?”

“Sí.”

“Nuestros cirujanos lo están cuidando mientras hablamos. Podemos sacar el papeleo del camino y podemos mantenerlo actualizado sobre su condición. Suena bien?”

Marc nods numbly. “Sí, gracias. Puedo encontrarte en la sala de espera? Solo necesito usar el baño muy rapido.”

“Seguro. Estaré esperando. Tómate todo el tiempo que necesites. Justo por este pasillo, la última puerta a la derecha.”

“Gracias.”

Marc treads down the hall and slips into the bathroom, locking the door behind him. He braces his hands on either side of the sink and stares into the mirror. “Steven?” He says in a small voice. He watches his reflection change, showing Steven pacing nervously.

“Yeah, I’m here,” Steven murmurs. “You know you can’t let me out yet, though, right?”

“I know, I know,” Marc says. “I wish I could. I don’t know how to deal with this, I don’t know what to do with myself.” He cards his fingers through his hair. “Y/N’s hurt bad and I couldn’t stop it and I can’t fucking fix it either.”

“Marc,” Steven says in a surprisingly calm tone. Marc looks at him in the mirror. “We will deal with these emotions, I promise. But right now, I’m sorry, but you have to go out there with that doctor and get the paperwork sorted. I’m still gonna be here, obviously, but you’re the only one of us that speaks Spanish.”

“Fine, I know.” Marc turns on the tap. He washes the blood off his hands, then splashes some water on his face. “When we get home, Y/N isn’t going on missions for a long while, even after he’s fully healed.”

“It’s not his fault he got shot, Marc!”

“I know it isn’t but he got hurt while I had the body and I can’t let it happen again! I won’t lose him, I can’t lose him.”

“He was an avatar.”

“Yeah, was, Steven. Past tense. He can’t heal the way he used to anymore.”

Steven is silent for a moment. “Call Layla,” he says quietly.

“What?”

“She needs to know too, she cares about him. Call her.”

A shaky breath escapes Marc’s lips as he leans against the sink, pulling out his phone. He finds Layla’s number. His hand is trembling when he brings the phone to his ear. His other hand grips the sink almost hard enough to break it. His knuckles go white.

Layla answers after four rings.

“Marc? It’s like two in the morning. What’s going on?”

“It’s… it’s about Y/N,” Marc says slowly, trying to keep his breathing regulated. “He got hurt on a mission. Really, really badly hurt, and I couldn’t stop it, and-”

“Where are you?” She asks quickly. “I’m coming.”

“Hospital in Melchor de Mencos. Guatemala.”

“I’ll get the first plane out of Mexico City, I can be there in 7 hours. How is he?”

“They, they took him into surgery soon as we got here. I gotta go fill out paperwork ‘cause I’m the only one fluent in Spanish,” Marc explains.

“You can’t even let Steven out?”

“Not yet. Not until the paperwork’s done. You’re coming?”

“Of course, I’m coming. I’ll see you in seven or eight hours.”

“Okay. Yeah, okay, see you then.”

Layla hangs up and Marc shoves his phone in his pocket again. He clenches and unclenches his fists over and over again, trying to keep his cool. His eyes feel like they’re on fire and he still can’t control how much he’s shaking. There’s a lump in his throat that won’t go away.

“All you can do now is sign the papers, Marc,” Steven says gently from the reflection. Marc looks up at him. Steven’s eyes are red and his face is shiny with fresh tears.

“Sign the papers,” Marc replies softly. He takes a deep breath, unlocks the bathroom door, and walks back down the hallway to the waiting room.

————————

Marc falls asleep in an uncomfortable chair after all the paperwork. He’s gently shaken awake and he opens his eyes to see Layla.

“You made it,” he murmurs.

“You told them about me,” she replies, sitting beside him.

“Well, I didn’t know if they’d let you in otherwise. Better safe than sorry.”

“What exactly did you tell them?”

Marc sits up properly, rolling his neck to get rid of the stiffness. “Told them you were family. Figured then they’ll let us see him sooner after he gets out.”

Layla hums in response. “How’d the mission go?”

“It was perfect until some fuck hurt Y/N,” Marc says bitterly. “If that guy was still there, I would’ve killed him.”

“Marc…”

“He hurt him and I couldn’t-”

“Hey, don’t do that to yourself,” Layla says, gently putting her hand on his arm. “Thinking like that isn’t gonna help anyone in this scenario; me or you two or Y/N. There’s nothing you could have done and it’s not your fault. As terrible as it is, shit happens. I’m here for all three of you. It’s going to be alright. Unfortunately, all we can do now is wait and see the results, you know?”

Marc sighs, carding his fingers through his hair. “Yeah. We just wait."

————————

Both of them end up falling asleep in the waiting room even though they’d told themselves that they’d stay awake.

A nurse wakes Marc and Marc wakes Layla.

“Is he okay?” Layla asks.

“He is asleep,” the nurse says through a thick accent. “Painkillers. He spoke English. Not many doctors knew what he was saying. He was asking for Marc, Steven and Layla.”

“That’s us,” Marc says. “Can we see him? Please?”

“He will not be conscious just yet, but yes.”

The nurse leads us down a few hallways to Y/N’s room. “If he wakes, do not overwhelm him. Be gentle,” he adds.

“Muchas gracias, señor,” Marc says, silently stepping into the room with Layla on his heels. Marc has to brace himself against the wall at the sight of you.

Your left leg is propped up and casted, another cast encasing your entire left arm. Your forehead is bandaged and the lights are mostly off in the room - a concussion, Marc assumes (and correctly so). You’re too bandaged up to need to bother with a hospital gown but, save for your propped up leg, your lower half is covered with a blanket.

“Shit,” Marc whispers, though he’s not entirely sure if it was him or Steven that said it. He’s pretty sure he’s got the body right now, even if part of him wishes he could hand it over to Steven. Not yet. He wasn’t going to hide from this, as much as it hurt to see.

He’s slow in his movements to sit in the chair to the right of you. Layla pulls up a chair next to him. His trembling hand reaches out to hold yours closest to him. He blinks back tears, gripping your hand unintentionally tight. His thumb brushes over your knuckles and he bows his head, covering his face with his free hand.

“My fault,” he murmurs almost inaudibly. Layla frowns a little.

“Marc-”

“It’s my fault,” Marc stresses.

Knowing there’s no use arguing with him, Layla gently squeezes his arm. “I’m gonna get some air for a minute.”

“You’re not staying?”

“I’ll be back, I promise. You want a coffee?”

“What, you mean the shitty vending machine coffee that all hospitals have?” Marc asks sarcastically. Layla nods. “Yeah, sure. I could use the caffeine. Maybe one for Steven too?”

Layla smiles gently. “I’ll be back soon.”

Minutes after Layla’s gone, Marc still hasn’t said a word and you’re still unconscious next to him. He knows the doctors say you’ll be alright, but he can’t help worrying anyway.

————————

You could hear the people in your room before you could see them.

First, it was doctors speaking Spanish. It all sounded like gibberish to you, despite Marc having taught you some Spanish a little while back. It was after they’d gotten you out of surgery, before the extra painkillers they’d pumped you with. You hadn’t had the energy to open your eyes to confront the doctors, so you’d passed out again.

Then, it was two voices - familiar voices. Voices so agonizingly familiar that you’d silently prayed to the gods that you could open your eyes to see if it was who you thought it was. Then, you passed out again.

The third time, you don’t hear much, just someone shifting beside you. Something - no, someone - is holding your right hand. It’s no doctor, you can’t feel the latex gloves they all wear. It’s calloused. It’s a hand you’ve held before.

It’s one of your boys.

You finally, finally, manage to open your eyes. You tilt your head to the right. Your gaze is blurry at first. You blink a few times before managing to get a clear picture of the man in the chair next to you. His head is bowed but he’s gripping your hand like you’re about to disappear.

“Fuck, Y/N, if you die, I’m gonna kill you,” a rough voice says. American. Marc. He sounds like he’s been either crying or sleeping or both for quite a while.

“Well, don’t get your hopes up,” you mutter. Your throat is bone dry.

Marc’s head shoots up so fast you’re surprised he doesn’t break his neck. You shoot him a weak smile before you start coughing. He immediately lets go of your hand to reach for the pitcher of water on the table next to the hospital bed, filling one of the little plastic cups stacked next to it. He passes it to you. You manage to stop coughing long enough to down the little cup of water. It soothes your parched throat immediately.

“Fuck, I needed that,” you mumble. “Desert.” You clear your throat and thankfully you don’t start coughing again. “Hi,” you add awkwardly.

“Hey,” Marc says, though he can’t hide the way his voice cracks a little. His eyes are glistening. You frown worriedly.

“Marc, baby…” you whisper. You reach your hand up to wipe away a couple of stray tears from his face. “Don’t cry for me. I’m here. I’m here, my love.”

“I thought… we thought that we were gonna lose you.” His voice is thick with emotion and you wish you could wash away his pain right then and there.

“You won’t lose me. Not if I have any say in it. Come here.”

He wipes his face with his sleeve as he pushes himself to his feet. “What?”

You scowl teasingly up at him. “I wanna kiss you but I can’t exactly move, dumbass, you need to come to me.”

A smile tugs at Marc’s lips as he leans down to press his to yours. Your good hand reaches up to hold his cheek as you practically melt into the kiss. When Marc pulls away, you try to chase after his lips, but you push yourself up too far. You wince and lay back down, gasping in pain. Concern flashes over Marc’s face.

“Are you alright?” He asks quickly.

“Mhm,” you murmur through clenched teeth. “Just moved, moved a bit too much.”

“Should I get a doctor back in here?”

You shake your head. “I’m fine, it’s okay.” You take a few deep breaths, trying to relax your tense body. “Yeah… yeah, I’m okay.” You pause for a moment. “Is… is Steven there?”

Marc’s body language changes, and you know you’re looking at Steven now.

“Oh my days, I was so worried,” he says. He leans forward and kisses your forehead, then your cheek. He almost pulls away completely, but you grab the collar of his shirt with your good hand and pull him down to kiss you on the lips. The kiss lasts a solid few seconds before you let him go. You smile a little as he sits back down.

“I’ll be okay,” you say quietly, holding your hand out. He slips his into your grasp, giving it a squeeze. “It’s like I told Marc, I’m not going anywhere if I can help it, Steven. You’re stuck with me.” You chuckle a little. “Sucks to suck.”

Steven rolls his eyes fondly. “I’d like to see you living and breathing on this earth for a little while longer, thank you very much.”

You smile gently. “I love you both.”

“We love you too, Y/N/N.”

“You’re awake!”

You turn your head towards the door and your grin widens when you see Layla holding a tray of three shitty vending machine coffees.

[A/N: no, she totally doesn’t almost drop them when she sees that you’re conscious, I dunno what you’re talking about…]

She puts the tray on a table and rushes to your side to hug you. She nearly pushes Steven out of the way just so she can get to you on your good side.

“Not too tight, the ribs, the shots,” you hiss out when you feel a stinging sensation from your torso. Layla apologizes immediately, loosening her grip but not quite pulling away just yet. Eventually she does, sitting down next to Steven. His demeanour changes, signalling the return of Marc. He looks over at her.

“Coffee?” He asks, his voice a little hoarse.

“Oh, shit, right.”

Layla retrieves the coffee tray and puts it on the table next to your bed. There are names scribbled on each one; Marc, Steven, Layla.

“I’m so sorry I didn’t get you one,” she admits, “I didn’t think you’d be awake.”

You shake your head. “S’okay. I probably shouldn’t have anything more than water right now. Plus it tastes like ass.”

“You’re not wrong,” Marc says, taking a swig of his coffee and nearly choking on it. “Fuck, that’s terrible.” He hesitates. He takes another sip. He straightens up as he puts his cup down. He reaches for Steven’s and takes a sip.

“Oh, bloody hell, that’s horrible.” He takes a second sip.

There’s a knock on the door and doctor begins to enter. Steve surrenders the body to Marc, in case of a need to speak Spanish.

“Buenos, días,” the nurse from earlier greets us. “Soy Dr. Juliàn Laguna. Soy el que supervisa el cuidado del Sr. L/N. Todos sois familia, sí?”

“Sí, es su hermano,” Marc lies, gesturing to Layla. “Estarà bien?”

“Sufrió muchas heridas. Su pierna está rota en un lugar mientras que su brazo está roto en tres. Dos costillas fracturadas. Conmoción cerebral de tercer grado. Tuvo suerte con la colocación de las heridas de bala. Bueno, tan afortunado como uno puede ser cuando te han disparado. Pudimos curarlo bien en la cirugía. Con el tiempo, sanará y estará bien.”

“What’s he saying?” You ask quietly.

“You broke your leg in one place and your arm in three. Two fractured ribs. They patched up the gunshot wounds well in surgery. With time you’ll heal and you’ll be alright,” Marc translates, breathing out a sigh of relief. “Muchas gracias, doctor, no sé- no sabemos qué haríamos sin él. Gracias.”

“Por supuesto. La muerte tendrá toda la lucha para sacarlo de esta tierra.” He clears his throat. “Les dejaré tener más tiempo para ustedes.”

“Gracias, doctor,” Marc says.

“So, I’ll be okay, right?” You asks quietly.

“You’re gonna be okay,” Marc says reassuringly. He takes your hand in his and presses his lips to your scratched and bruised knuckles. “We’re gonna take you home as soon as we can. As soon as the doc gives the go ahead, we’re hopping on a plane and we’re out of here.”

“Good,” you say immediately. “I think I’ll be taking a break from fighting for a little while. I’ll take the sidelines.”

Marc looks surprised. Sure, he told Steven and Layla that he wanted you to sit out once you fully healed, but he didn’t expect you to feel the same about it.

“Are you sure?” He asks gently.

You shoot him a tight smile. “More or less. I like being out there to watch your six, but this was too close of a near death experience for my liking,” you explain. “Plus, I’ll be able to take care of you when you get home. Both of you,” you add, shooting a glance and a smile at Layla. “Besides, since I’m not with Osiris anymore, I really need to take it easy.”

You squeeze Marc’s hand. “You won’t have to worry about me then either.”

“I’m always gonna worry about you,” he insists.

“You know what I mean, dumbass.” You pause for a moment. “So. When can we go home?”

A/N: Thank you so much for reading! This has been sitting in my writing folder for a hot minute so I figured I'd finish it. Also I know virtually nothing about Guatemala including knowing nothing about Guatemalan healthcare but what little research I did had me decide to have Marc hide his relationship with Y/N for fear of homophobia but I wrote that bit a while back idk... Anyway, might make a fluffy little part two of Marc and Steven taking care of the reader while he heals 👀 lmk if you want it 👀 feed back is encouraged and appreciated! Have a lovely day!

#moon knight #marc spector #steven grant #male reader #x male reader #mr knight #marc spector x male reader #steven grant x male reader #marvel fic #moon knight fic #moon knight system #marvel moon knight #marvel cinematic universe #oscar isaac #oscar issac x male reader #marvel x male reader

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