i look like a french exchange student

still-lost-in-stereo  asked:

Hey can you recommend any good Enjoltaire soulmate fics or ones where one of them is from a different country than the other?

Sure thing bud! (Sorry I didn’t answer this sooner btw)


Soulmate AU

vocal ink by sarahyyy 
(3,479 words)

“Officially, we don’t have a leader, everyone here is equal,” Courfeyrac says, keeping his voice low as Enjolras starts his speech, “but if we did, and we don’t, it would be Enjolras.” He looks over to Marius. “Do not approach him. Let him come to you, let him be the first to initiate conversation, and for the love of God, do not mention soulmates.”

(Or, the soulmate tattoo AU.)

Please Don’t Jump by JosiahPeregrine 
(1,814 words)

Soulmate Tattoo AU where Grantaire has “Please don’t jump” tattooed on his arm and it terrifies him knowing in the future his life is going to take that turn, and he doesn’t know why or when, or even if he will be able to listen to his soulmate when the time comes.

Please Just Talk To Me by they_hear_the_music 
(4,606 words)

If Grantaire had known that The Friends of the ABC were led by a golden god, he would have reconsidered coming to the meeting. Or at least he would have shaved.

salt-rose or topaz by sarahyyy 
(3,300 words)

He closes his eyes, squeezes them shut tightly, and tries to get his breathing under control, because it can’t be, it can’t fucking be, because you don’t see colours unless you see your soulmate, and Grantaire was pissed drunklast night and he couldn’t have, he mustn’t have—

He opens his eyes.

The colours remain.

(Or, the one where the world is black-and-white until you meet your soulmate.)

First Words by Chainofprospit 
(2,863 words)

Once you were college-aged, with your peers also past the age of maturity, it became standard issue to ask about the tattoos when you were getting to know a group of people. You always went for the oldest first – because they would have had theirs the longest, and might have met their soul mate already, and if so you wanted to hear the stories. (The funnier or more meet-cute the better.) For this reason, Bahorel, as a tall and broad and scruff-bearing fellow whose relatively older age tended to be readily apparent, always got asked before anyone else. He tried to make it quick and nonchalant, so as not to disappoint.

Why?

He didn’t have one.

(this one is less exr focused but it’s cool to see how the other Amis find their soulmates)

**also check out this post (x) regarding the concept of exr + predestined soulmates vs. making your own choice**


Different Countries AU

And if I’m gone tomorrow by Madlyie 
(14,268 words)

“These people with their “zis” and “zat” and “‘ow do I get zere”. Run around like they own a country they don’t even like. Why does anyone even go to a country they don’t like?”
Jehan and Feuilly shared an amused look and the taller man rolled his eyes while the poet patted Grantaire’s arm softly.
It was nothing new to hear the artist complaining about all the tourists in the city and especially about the visitors from France.

Grantaire is British and he doesn’t like French people. But then he meets a gorgeous exchange student from France and has to overthink his opinions.

Oh, It’s What You Do To Me by captainskellington 
(7,015 words)

Enjolras stumbles across Grantaire via YouTube comments.
French!R sings. NYC!Enjolras pines.
They fall in love via email and Skype.

4000 miles is pretty far, but they’ve got trains and planes and cars.
(Inspired loosely by Hey There Delilah, as if you couldn’t already tell.)

(I’m Not) Fluent In You by the_sky_is_forever 
(89,122 words)

Grantaire starts the new school year at a new boarding school - this one all the way in France. The problem is, he doesn’t speak French.
(Okay, the other problem is the far too attractive head boy, but that’s another matter that can be dealt with on a different day entirely).

Five times Enjolras couldn’t communicate right + the time he understood absolutely everything by neurodramaticfool
(6,971 words)

The five times poor traveller Enjolras had to put up with his infuriating receptionist who didn’t speak a word of English.
Plus, the one time he didn’t.

I’m not actually sure if Enjolras and Grantaire are from different countries in this one, but it’s close enough

Deal? (Lafayette x Reader)

Words: 1800+

Warnings: cursing

Request: hey! could i request a lafayette x reader modern au, where laf is in france and he meets an exchange student from north america who is struggling with their french? hhhh i think that would just be so cute ❤ @strawbirby (did i tag the right person??)

A/N: i don’t know why it took me so long to write this


You walked into your dorm room, sitting your bag on the bed. You were put into a single, different from everyone else. You would have rathered sharing, to have someone to talk to on your experience in a different country, but this would have to do.

You flopped onto the mattress, looking at the open door. Different people from different countries walked past, some excited and some nervous. You opened your dictionary, studying some words that were pertinent to what you had to learn. Since you were an exchange student, you had to speak almost fluent French. It was easy to read and write it, and the verbal tests weren’t that difficult. But speaking it in the home country? That was a completely different from saying it in America.

“Are you Y/N?” You looked up, seeing a woman standing there. You nodded, placing your book to the side. The woman walked in, giving you a folder. “Monsieur Leroy told me to come and give you this. It’s a correction to your schedule, the last one did not have your speaking classes.” You thanked her, and she smiled, walking back out of the room. You glanced over the schedule, seeing that everything was pretty much the same.

You heard your phone ring, and glanced at it. Your friend, Peggy, picture shown, and you answered immediately, already missing her. “I didn’t know you woke up at seven in the morning before.” You joked, looking at the 12 on your clock.

“Y/N! I missed you!” She yelled into the phone, and you laughed, moving it slightly away from your ear.

“I just left yesterday, Pegs. How can you miss me so quickly?” You said, placing your phone between your shoulder and ear. As you crooked your neck, you began unpacking your belongings.

“Yes, but that’s still too long. When will you be back again?” She asked, and you heard some shuffling in the background. “Laurens, stop-” You heard her giggled, and rolled your eyes. The two of them were inseparable. “No, I’m leaving the room. Stop, you idiot, I need to talk to Y/N. Yes, she just left yesterday. Do you have a problem?”

“Am I interrupting something?” You said, smiling. You grabbed a hanger, putting your outfits together.

“No, John is just being John. Y/N, why did you have to go so far?” She complained, and you imagined her pouted lip, the usual expression she made when she was disappointed.

“Oh well, I don’t know. Maybe it’s because I’m majoring in French and international studies. But that’s just a guess.” You snickered, placing your clothes on the side.

“You know, I don’t need your sarcasm right now. Just-” The line cut off, leaving a tone ringing in your head. You sighed, throwing your phone on the mattress.

You walked out your dorm room, on a mission to learn where all of your classes were before you attended them tomorrow. As you were searching for one, you bumped into a taller fellow, his curly hair wrapped up in a bun on the top of his head. He wore a plaid shirt, the long sleeves pushed up on his forearm. You quickly said sorry in French, cringing at your terrible pronunciation. Whenever you were nervous, every single word jumbled up.

He gave you a kind smile, nodding at you. “It’s okay, mon ami. I know English.” You let out a sigh of relief, and he laughed at your reaction. “Are you a student?”

“Yes. I’ve just made it here today.” You glanced at the schedule in your hand. “Um, can you help me find this class? I’ve been looking for it for ten minutes now, and I cannot seem to find it anywhere.”

“Of course, anything for a beautiful woman like yourself.” You frowned slightly at his flirtatious behavior, but quickly assumed it was just French culture. You gave him the schedule, and he scanned the paper quickly. “Ahh, you have the same schedule as I.”

“Really? That’s interesting, I thought the international students had specific layouts.”

“They do, mon ami. I’m part of the program. It’s part of my major in international studies, I am to help any exchange students. Like yourself.” He winked, walking with you through the hallways. You could not help but feel slightly disappointed, thinking he was just helping you out of kindness. Now that you knew the real reason, it seemed like he was forced to do this.

“I see…” You said, saying nothing more. He looked down at you, grinning.

“Would you like for me to help you with your French? Since our classes are the same, I can help you understand.”

“I’m fine, but thank you.” You said, slightly annoyed.

“How about this: I help you with my mother language, and you help me understand things about North America. I plan to travel there next semester. Deal?” He asked again, stopping in the middle of the hallway. You bit your lip, considering the options.

You felt like you were pretty knowledgeable about your country, and him helping you in French would benefit you immensely. After looking at his face for a few moments, you nodded. “Oui.” You replied, and he laughed.

“Let me show you the rest of our classrooms.”

~

You soon learned that his name was Lafayette; the man had too many surnames for you to remember. You quickly nicknamed him Laf, and the two of you became inseparable. Every day after class, he would help you with your pronunciation, and you would teach him things about America that he didn’t know. He was surprised that something like pineapple would go on pizza, but he was willingly to try it, much to your dismay.

Your French was improving greatly, and since half of your classes were in the language, it was beneficial. Lafayette soon taught you slang and curse words, laughing at your face whenever you said one. You taught him English curse words, and could not help but grin at the way he said Fuck with a French accent.

“Ah, and what does this fuck actually mean?” He asked you, pursing his lips. You held back a chuckle, raising your shoulders.

“Honestly, it could be used for anything. A noun, an adjective, a verb, an interjection, an adverb, whatever your mind creates, you could probably put fuck in front of it.” You replied, sipping on your beverage. He nodded slowly.

“That’s fucking cool Y/N.” He said, and you spat out your coffee.

You noticed that he stayed by your side, barely paying mind to the other international students. He told you that he was supposed to help those students, but he seemed to ignore them. You asked him why, and he always shrugged, telling you that you were his one and only.

That definitely made you blush.

As the two of you were giggling about something in one of the study rooms, a professor walked up to you. You looked at him, and Lafayette smiled at the man. “Monsieur, how may I help you.”

“Ah, Gilbert, I see you have found someone to mentor. See, I told you, someone will partner up with you.” The professor laughed, looking at you. You gave him a closed-lip smile, glancing at Laf. His smile was slowly going down at the man’s words.

“Ah, monsieur, this is my friend Y/N. I am not with her just because of the partner program.” He said, his voice becoming harsh. You were now curious, looking between the two of them.

“What is he talking about?” You asked, butting in. The professor looked at you, surprised that you could understand french. You rolled your eyes.

“Ahh, it is required for his major. He is suppose to find someone to be a friend with, and communicate in both English and French. I assumed he picked you.” The professor walked away, ending his conversation on an awkward note. You looked at Lafayette, upset.

“So, I’m just an assignment? I’m just here to get you a good grade?” You said, rising out of your seat. Lafayette widened his eyes, shaking his head quickly.

“No, mon amour, monsieur is just telling you about an assignment that I had to complete. Please do not misunderstand.”

“Fine, tell me that you didn’t talk to me in the beginning just to complete your requirement. Tell me that I was not just a part of your grade.” You crossed your arms against your chest, looking at him. He pleaded with his eyes, not answering. You nodded, grabbing your bag off the floor and taking your notebooks off the table in front of you. “Guess this buddy system is over, Laf. You should find someone else to lift your grade.”

“Y/N, wait-”

You walked out the study room, slamming the door behind you. Some people gasped at the loud sound, looking at your figure walking out of the library. You felt the tears falling, staining your cheeks. You used your right hand to wipe away the unwanted tears, walking towards your dorm. Before you could walk in, an arm grabbed you, turning you around.

Lafayette was standing there, unwilling to let go. You pulled and pulled, but he resisted, making his grip tighter. “I swear Laf if you don’t get your arm off me right now-”

“Y/N, please, just listen to me. Can you do that?” He begged, his eyes never leaving yours. You nodded, and he let go of your limb. “Y/N, when I first met you, yes, I used you as a way to get a better grade. I will not deny this.”

“You ass-”

“Please, let me finish, mon amour.” You knew that he used that nickname to calm you down, and of course, it worked. “After getting to know the person you have become, I realized that I do not care about this grade. And I’m so sorry for treating you like a number. I liked you, I like you, as a person. And you are my only ami around here, but I could not help but see you more than that. Today, I was going to ask if you would like to go on an, how you say, outing with I. I wish for you to be my girlfriend, Y/N. You are not and will never be just a project to me.” He said, looking at the red of your cheeks pouring out onto the rest of your face.

You looked down, cursing this man in your mind for his eloquent words. You glanced back up at him, and he looked nervous, sweat pouring down his face.

You felt a drop of water hit your forehead, and looked up at the sky. Oh.

He wasn’t sweating. It was rain.

Good grief, you were always making up scenarios in your head. As you watched the rain fall, you heard the clearing of a throat.

“Y/N?” He asked, getting your attention back. “Did you hear what I said?”

“Oh, yes. Yes, I would liked to go on a date with you,” he smiled, and you glared at him, “But there better be nothing else coming out from someone saying that I’m a grade.” He nodded quickly, placing his hand in yours.

“Let’s be on our way, then.”

Making A Change

Lafayette x Reader

Note: so I took the suggestion that @coololdsoulpoetlove gave me and took it a lot further than I think anyone really expected. I hope you guys enjoy it and let me know what you think!

Warnings: I don’t think anything needs a warning

Word Count: 3,421


Life had become boring.

You thought that after finishing college, moving to the city of your dreams and finally having the chance to live alone that you’d feel accomplished and fulfilled. You thought that you could live the life of a writer that you always dreamed of living. You got a job, it payed decently enough and it helped you get buy while you spent as much of you time as possible writing, trying to get something finished so you could attempt to get it published.

But soon enough you started working more than you first intended to and your job became your first priority. All your old notebooks, the books on writing and the poetry books you read over and over again to feel inspired were packed away. Your jeans and sarcastic t-shirts were put away in favour of slacks and blouse’s that were more suited for the more professional office job that you had taken, mostly for the better pay.  

And now every day seems the same, you wake up alone in your big bed, go through your usual morning routine of showering, drying your long locks, putting on your makeup and then spending 10 minutes picking out an outfit that makes you look kind of decent before heading to work and then repeating the same again the next day.

Each day is tiring and boring, and even though you would rather do anything but sit in your apartment alone all night, you can’t bring yourself to go out with your friends when they want to get dinner or catch a movie. It’s been like this for a while and you’re well aware of the hole you’ve fallen into, but you’re not sure how you’re supposed to get yourself out.

It feels like you need a spark, something to brings back all your creativity and your love of life and new experiences that you lost.

Keep reading

ID #47464

Name: Clara
Age: 22
Country: France

Hi there… I am Clara, a french cinical psychology student of 22 years old. I am currently in graduate school and I live in the east of France, in a really cozy village.
I am looking from penpals friend all around the world! I like to exchange about any thing, telling about my life, what is happening and all that. I am also really into craft, papers stuff and stickers, so I usually make my letters pretty full of stuff ( and I like to write a lot as well ). I speak english and french fluently.
My main interests ( among many ! ) are travelling, reading ( thrillers, mangas, novels… ), music ( basically heavy music but I can go as far as flamenco ), crafting, TV Shows ( so much to tell OO ), and of course e-a-t-i-n-g ( and cooking ).
I also adore cats too much….

Preferences: I don’t have any prefences !

“French student” - Sirius Black x Reader Imagine

request: Hey lovely, Could I request a Sirius x Reader fic where Sirius finds it really hot when the reader speaks French?

— Sure thing. Hope you like it! ♡ 



The summer had end and Hogwarts was ready to welcome the students. A few minutes after the huge doors opened, thousands and thousands of students came in from all years, first to seventh.
The marauders were entering their sixth year and couldn’t be more ready. They had just two years left and they wanted to get the most out of it, they were ready for more pranks and jokes than ever.

All was well and was supposed to go well. That was until Dumbledore announced at the first dinner that in a week, a few exchange students would arrive. Sirius was the first to applaud, thinking he would get some new chicks into his bed sheets. He immediately joked about it with James and bragged about how none of these girls would resist him.

That was until he met you. This beautiful exchange student from France that didn’t even flinch at his magnificent hair. All the other girls were head over heels for him, but strangely all he cared about was you. Your long hair, beautiful eyes and your accent. Bloody hell, your accent. He was drunk on it. He loved it. So, he kept a promise to himself on succeeding on asking you on a date. But you made that promise difficult for him, as you would always refuse. He asked his friends about it so many times, taking any advices, but nothing worked on you.

Winter had set and most of the students were out playing in the snow. You were on top of the Gryffindor Tower, watching them from the balcony, taking in the fresh air while you shifted closer into your scarf. Being alone never bothered you. Yes, you had friends here now, but you needed your time alone like always. That is, until you heard footsteps and saw the magnificent grey eyes meeting yours.

“What do you want, Black?” you said with your French accent.

“Just one day at Hogsmeade with you.. please?”

“And why would I do that ?!” you were starting to get annoyed by him insisting.

Sirius felt like your accent was entering his body and playing with it. It set him on fire. He felt it very attractive.
He got closer to you and looked right through your eyes.

“Because you’re different, and I like you.” he admitted.

“Really?” you said, confused.

“Yes. I know what kind of reputation I have. But you are so special that I am willing to change for you. And, my god, you don’t know what your accent does to me…” he said, looking at your lips.

“You’re silly. But, yes I’ll give you a chance.” you said after a while of reflection and avoiding that his gaze was stuck on your lips.

“Really? For real?!” Sirius asked, surprised and immediately looking back at your eyes.

“Oui, monsieur.” you said in French, smiling and putting a hand on his cheek.

“No idea what you just said but it was definitely hot!” he said with a chuckle, biting his lip.

“I said: Yes, sir.”

You smiled and he leaned in and kissed you. You eventually kissed back and pulled away to find him grinning even more than you were.

“So, will you speak to me in French on our date?” he asked with a smirk.

“Sure.” And with a laugh, you looked at him and hoped he would not mess up his chance because you, too, couldn’t resist Sirius Black anymore.  




You liked it? Reblog or like to let me know. Request here.

One Date

This is a series called Maybe that’s the Problem. Part 1 Part 2
Pairing: Philip x Reader
Word count: 3140
Summary: You have a long and interesting conversation with Philip at his house. God, that sounds awful
Notes:
Art for the Richard/Philip Scene
Art for Richard in general
I’m really happy with this, I hope you enjoy it! Also, no warnings? I think so. It took me long enough, I know. XD


It was nothing special.

You would just go there to have a little fun and nothing more.

Philip wasn’t able to do change anything, not in just one day. Furthermore, you wanted to find out more about him. When you knew enough, your interest would probably fade away just as soon as it had appeared. It was the unknown what attracted you and gave you this tingling sensation every time you saw him. Surely.

Keep reading

rogerdvies  asked:

Viktor and Ron. I need HS Riktor.

  • okay, so, as much as mrs weasley wanted to take in an exchange student - there’s not a terrible lot of room left in her house, not with all the kids, so the arrival of the exchanges arrives without much fanfare for the weasleys
  • it takes ron plenty of time to notice they’ve arrived - he only realises that the exchange has taken place when he’s trying to get into the canteen at lunch and it seems twice as packed as usual (honestly, what did they build it for if it couldn’t take any damn students?)
  • he doesn’t pay them much heed that first day, but when he comes in to school the next day, scrabbling in late, he almost runs headfirst into an exchange student looking with bewilderment at his timetable
  • “sorry,” ron blurts out, his britishness never failing
  • the exchange barely seems to have noticed; he’s built like a brick wall, with a shaved head, so someone light like ron maybe doesn’t even register on his radar
  • “excuse me,” he says, voice thickly accented with some kind of european accent ron can’t peg because it’s not a) french, or b) german, “i do not know where this class is”
  • ron squints over his thick hands and at the timetable; he swallows, because this exchange is - he doesn’t really know how to explain it to his own head, but his stomach is dropping and feels strange and his head is half-becoming mush as he realises how close he is to the exchange
  • ron’s just barely realised he’s gay: he feels like his mind is going to blow
  • he focuses on the timetable, though: he’s here to help the student, not eye him up, right? right. 
  • “oh, i’ll take you there,” he offers, because trying to direct anyone across the labyrinth of school corridors is nigh-on impossible without physical direction; he sets off down the maths corridor, past the bright rows of colourful bubble-writing declaring maths (which is not fun) to be fun (no; it’s hell - to ron, anyway)
  • “so, are you an exchange student?” he quips curiously 
  • “yes,” the exchange says, in what’s almost a bark, “from bulgaria”
  • “i like bulgaria,” ron says (he knows nothing about it). “what’s your name? i’m ron”
  • “viktor,” says exchange. “your school - it is, i am not sure how to say, very… difficult?” 
  • ron attempts to decipher this; he’s never been good at languages, so he certainly can’t ask viktor to say it in another language. “do you mean it’s hard to get around? like, complicated? like a maze?”
  • viktor nods. “yes, like a maze. i am sorry. my english is not good.”
  • “better than my french, mate,” ron laughs, delivering viktor safely to his chemistry classroom, just past maths. “here we go. i’ll see you around?”
  • viktor nods. “i will see you later,” he says, and it’s a statement, not a question; ron heads off to his own class, rather confused to this conversation ending, his heart still pounding - viktor looks so good, after all, and has this kind of presence that seems to take up the whole corridor
  • and he does see viktor around: it’s lunchtime when viktor appears again, striding faultlessly and confidently up to ron where he’s eating lunch with harry and hermione, just outside the school building
  • “ron,” he says, and then doesn’t seem to know what to say after that
  • “do you wanna eat lunch with us?” ron says helpfully, and viktor nods, squashing up at the free end of the bench and crushing the friends together; harry doesn’t look too pleased, but hermione just smiles politely
  • “are you enjoying your time here, viktor?” she asks
  • he nods. “yes,” he says, “but i like most the people”
  • ron goes red, because viktor looks right at him when he says this
  • and, to make matters worse (or better), they share their next class: it’s ron’s hated, maths, but viktor seems to understand it so naturally, and, sitting next to ron, leans over and explains it in as gentle a tone as possible 
  • he finds it hard to explain with english as his second language, but ron guides him through it: and at the end of the lesson, he thinks he might’ve learned more in that hour from viktor than he’s learned in years of public schooling 
  • he can’t wait for maths the next day; he smiles at viktor, and he can actually finish the textbook work this time, suddenly understanding what he’s meant to be doing 
  • hermione laughs at him at lunch - viktor tags along, of course, but she waits until he goes to get a drink of water to laugh - and elbows him: “so, got a thing for krum, have you?”
  • “what? i have not!” ron says, deeply offended by this accusation 
  • “you do so,” hermione insists, and ron sighs; he can’t keep anything from her, can he?
  • “okay, just a little bit,” he says defensively. “i like him. i think he’s good-looking”
  • she giggles. “you two would be good together,” she advises, and somehow, ron doesn’t think it’s a joke
  • it’s the end of the next week and the end of a glorious week of maths learning with viktor that anything really moves; ron’s heartbeat has been fluttering more, and he swears he’s been feeling more of an atmosphere from viktor
  • viktor follows him out of class, taking him aside to the nook where the elevator is, suddenly looking awkward in his physical space where beforehand he’s always looked so effortlessly confident 
  • “ron,” he says slowly, “i would like to go on a date with you this weekend, if that is alright” 
  • ron’s grin blossoms on his face; he can’t remember the last time he’s been this happy - the chudley cannons winning the football league doesn’t even touch this
  • “hell yeah, it’s alright,” he says eagerly. “i would love to”
  • and viktor’s smile, too, is just amazing

send me a hp pair and i’ll write high school headcanons!

Football fails

THERES A FUCKING HOT FRENCH EXCHANGE STUDENT AND HE LOOKS LIKE PEYTON. THAT IS ALL.
ALSO I FROM AUSTRALIA AND WE DONT HAVE NFL WE LITERALLY ONLY HAVE AFL WHICH IS DIFFERENT SO HAVE A LOL.

Lucas Friar adjusted his helmet as he looked at himself in the locker room mirrors. Tonight was the final against the Bradbury bears, or private school jerks as Lucas liked to call them. Taking one last sip of water Lucas waddled out to meet his other team mates.

He immediately caught sight of Zay and ran over to him tapping him on the chest and Zay rolled his eyes and hit his arm were there was no padding. Lucas could see the quite large crowd that had gathered outside from the entrance of the locker room. He always found it kind of weird and surreal that so many people came to watch such ‘barbaric’ behaviour. Watching such sports has been around since Roman times and it was all a bit weird to Lucas when he thought in depth about it.

He felt a hand hit the back of his head and he snapped back into reality looking down at Zay once again. Lucas offered an apologetic smile but Zay just scoffed and directed him to listen to their coach.

'Ok Lucas. You’re our quarterback. Bring the patriots home man.’ Coach yelled and all his Neanderthal friends started jumping, shouting and hitting each other. Zay saw Lucas uncomfortable and put his hand on his shoulder.

'You’ll do great out there man. Plus Riley will be cheering you on and I swear she is magical at making people’s dreams come true so that’s a good sign.’ Zay offered and Lucas let out a small smile at the mention of his girlfriend.

'Have you heard from Riley? I haven’t heard from her since she left Greenwich and I mean that’s a 2 hour drive and she should be here by now.’ He questioned anxiety seeping through his voice. Zay tensed at his words but covered it up not wanting to scare his friend when he didn’t know what was happening yet.

'Nah man I haven’t yet. But don’t stress maybe her phone just ran out of charge. It’s nothing.’ He pleaded and Lucas relaxed a little. It was probably just a misunderstanding. It didn’t make the feeling in his gut go away though.

'Yeah yeah Zay you’re probably right. I shouldn’t stress. It’s probably just a misunderstanding.’ He wasn’t sure if he was convincing him self or Zay more. The coach yelled and Zay and Lucas stormed off onto the field and got into there positions. While all basic formalities began Lucas took his chance to look around the stands to see if he could see Riley. After a quick skim he noticed Topanga, his parents, Maya, Cory and Farkle and an empty spot beside them. He tried to brush it off as her getting stuck in traffic or maybe having to clean up something at the house or at school but something deep inside of him was telling him, this was worse.

The game began and Lucas welcomed the distraction. He despised the smell of dirt and overly well kept grass but add that to sweaty over weight man killers and it’s a deadly combination Lucas had had enough of. Thank god this is my last game he thought and went to grab the ball. He passed to a teammate before he felt a strong force hit him and his head slammed against the grass. He groaned as his teammate Ray helped him up while his team was celebrating the touchdown they had just earned. He didn’t think he had ever been more thankful for half time in his entire life.

He limped slightly off the field hiding from the medics and his coach slightly. Taking a sip from a water bottle he went to look around for Riley again but saw that not only her seat was empty but so was Cory and Topanga’s. Suspicious he pretended he was running off his injury and ran toward their stand. Farkle seemed slightly frightened as Lucas ran over, he didn’t know what to tell the quarterback. He didn’t know what he was allowed to tell the quarterback in all fairness.

Lucas stopped and called out to Farkle who was only to rows back from the barrier. Ignoring the loving stares he got from his classmates he watched as Maya hid her slightly puffy eyes from Lucas.

'Ok guys where’s Riley. I’m not mad considering I know there’s a reasonable excuse but I would like to know where she is and why Maya is crying.’ He demanded and everyone shivered a bit at his scary tone.

'Lucas’ he heard the familiar gentle tone and turned to his mother who had a sad aura coming from her.

'Riley wishes she was here. She’s just a little preoccupied. We will explain later. You have a game to win now. This is what she wanted.’ She prattled and Lucas couldn’t help but feel like he couldn’t breathe when no one was telling him where Riley was. He stood there collecting his breathe and hoping that Riley was just planning a surprise after party for him and it wasn’t anything bad.

'Friar.’ Someone yelled from across the field and Lucas saw the demanding eyes of his coach and stormed over blinking back his tears.

'Alright ok first half. Friar great playing keep it up. Now I’ve already spoken to everyone I need to individually so everyone head out there. One-two-three hut.’ The boys yelled as they put their hands in the circle and flung them out.

Lucas ran to the field and tried as hard as he could to keep his head in the game.

2 touchdowns later Lucas found him self in a play that was next to Zay. They had a few extra minutes to spare considering there was a fight between teams and the umpires were trying to stop the situation.
Zay trotted closer to Lucas and clapped him on the back.

'How are you doing with the whole Riley thing.’ Zay sulked and Lucas tried to hide his furrowed eyebrows. It was times like these Lucas was thankful he had a gullible friend to trick.

'Yeah ok.’ He muttered and he saw Zay sigh heavily before tears welled up in his eyes.

'Yeah car accidents are tough on everyon-’ Zay started but Lucas was already faking an injury.

'Car accident- Zay why didn’t you tell me I need to go to her.’ He yelped as he held his arm in pain and saw the medics running towards him.

'I thought you knew.’ Was the last thing Lucas heard a confused Zay say before he was being escorted off the field. the medic tried to sit him down but before they could Lucas pulled out of their grasp.

'Thanks but I know it’s serious. I’ll drive myself to the hospital.’ He bellowed before dropping his helmet and sprinting out of the stadium. He heard a few gasps but nothing was on his mind except Riley.

He had never been more thankful for no New York traffic than now as he sped along the streets towards the hospital. After a speedy 5 minute drive he pushed open the doors to the hospital and strided up to reception.

'Hi I’m here to see Riley Matthews. I’m her brother.’ He mumbled and the nurse nodded.

'Yep Riley is down the hall take a left and then two doors down.’ She directed and Lucas managed a thank you before he ran off down the halls. Pushing open the door he saw a bruised Riley with her arm in cast and a bandage on her forehead. She looked over at him and smiled sadly.

'Lucas you didn’t have to be here. How did you even know. You have a football game.’ She rambled and Lucas laughed while sitting down on the chair next to her bed.

'Riles you are 100X more important than football. If you’re hurt I’m hurt.’

'How did you find out?’ She questioned as his lips kissed her temple.

'Zay may have been persuaded a little.’ Riley laughed before grabbing her ribs in pain.

'How you feeling.’

'I’ll be fine in about a month. Other than this stupid broken arm. It was worth it to save the bunny though.’ She joked before her phone pinged and she grabbed it.

'Well look luke you won. With Zay as fill in quarterback.’ She beamed and Lucas was confused but delighted.

'Well although unexpected I love that. Yay Zay.’ He yelled and Riley replied with a yay Zay.

'Now how about we watch cuddle bunnies.’ Lucas offered before lying in her hospital bed with her. Riley put her head on his chest and he wrapped his arms around her.
'Anything for you’ she mumbled before drifting Off to sleep.

Set my heart on fire

A/N: this was requested to me a long time ago I actually forgot it. It has been sitting silently in folder waiting to be finished lol. Finally got the time to write it and finish it just yesterday cause, i hate to say this but it’s school related again. So, anyway, sorry for not posting anything in a long time. 

it’s smut lol

—–

My phone rings and vibrates in my hand when I enter the kitchen.  "Hey Y/N, have you heard the news? It’s blood moon tonight.“ Taron says excitedly on the other line as I rummage through the kitchen cupboard to get the box of Froot Loops.

"Oh, interesting. What time?” I ask while grabbing a bowl out of the cabinet. I wedge the phone between my left ear and my shoulder as I walk over to the kitchen island and place the bowl and a box of cereal on it. I pour some and I stuff a dry handful of cereals in my mouth, chewing appreciatively as I wait for his answer.

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OH MY GOD SO MY FRENCH TEACHER TAUGHT ME THE WORD FOR “GRAVY FRIES” IN CLASS ONE DAY AND I REALLY LIKE THE FRENCH VERSION OF GRAVY FRIES SO WHEN I WAS AT A PICNIC TODAY FOR FRENCH EXCHANGE STUDENTS I ASKED ONE OF THEM IF THEY LIKED GRAVY FRIES BUT THEY DIDN’T KNOW WHAT I WAS TALKING ABOUT BUT IN MY HEAD I WAS LIKE “OH WAIT I KNOW THE WORD FOR GRAVY FRIES” SO I SAID “DO YOU LIKE POUTAIN?” AND SHE GAVE ME THE MOST OFFENDED LOOK I HAVE EVER SEEN AND MY FRENCH FRIEND STARTED LAUGHING AT ME IT TURNS OUT THAT POUTAIN MEAN WHORES I ASKED A POOR LITTLE FRENCH GIRL IF SHE LIKED TO EAT WHORES

anonymous asked:

Oh my gosh! It's open!! It's really actually open! I come here most days and it must be my lucky day to see your ask open. Ok so my ask is this: Imagine in an Alternate Universe, Claire came through the stones with Fergus and he's her biological son from a parallel universe Jamie!

Hello anon. With the exception of the biological part, this sounds a lot like my Fergus through the stones AU. Here are the links for the first few installments. 

Mod Lenny ; )

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5 


Fergus pulled the blankets up around his ears.

“I am not well, Mother Claire,” he pled, drawing his knees up towards his stomach. “I will be sick if I go out of be.”

Claire lowered herself onto the mattress beside him, grimacing as the springs creaked under her weight. She put a hand to his forehead and frowned.

“Sit up,” she told him. Encouraged, he did so and lifted his head high while she felt along his throat. “Mmmhmm,” she murmured. She took his wrist and felt for his pulst. “Interesting…”

Fergus’ eyes went wide.

“You most certainly have come down with a serious case––very serious,” she told him taking his hands in hers.

“A serious case?” he asked, swallowing hard.

“A very serious case of nerves,” she nodded solemnly. “Unfortunately, the only cure is to face the day and see it through. To the best of my knowledge, everyone feels nervous on their first day of school.” She rose and pulled the blankets back to the foot of the bed, exposing Fergus’ pale legs.

He sighed and climbed out of bed.

“What do you mean, ‘to the best of your knowledge’?” he asked as he began to dress.

Clare set about straightening the bed as best she could maneuvering around her over-large belly––she was due sometime in the next two months.

“I didn’t have much in the way of formal schooling myself,” she told Fergus. Adjusting the pillows she added, “My uncle tried dropping me off at a boarding school when I was five or six but that didn’t last very long. So he took me with him on his expeditions for work and I learned what I could on my own and with him tutoring me.”

“If you did not go to school,” Fergus objected, pulling a sweater on over his head, “why must I? You will be home with le bébé soon. Can you not teach me then?”

Claire smiled at him as she rubbed her belly. “I’ll be a bit busy with the baby,” she pointed out. “Besides, I can’t teach you everything you’ll need to learn.:

“Milord did not attend such schools.”

“Milord went to université. Are you worried about the other students?” She leaned against the table Fergus would use as a desk as she watched him tie his shoes. Her crossed arms rested atop the swell of her belly.

Fergus’ neck went pink.

“You’ll have Roger in your class,” she reminded him. “He’ll introduce you to everyone.”

“I am older than him and the others. And he already knows more than I do. They will laugh and they will think me…” He couldn’t find the word he wanted and instead of reverting to the French, as he was wont to do, he groaned loudly and flopped onto the bed. He started as the springs caused the mattress to bounce rather than give way––another reminder he would never feel entirely comfortable in this strange future time.

Claire sighed and sat beside him once more. She reached over and brushed one of his dark curls from his forehead.

“You’ve been doing really well here in this time,” she remarked.

“I had more…” he faltered again. “I was valuable to milord without schooling. To go back now it… it is… lowering.”

“Milord would not have seen it as such and neither will anyone here,” she insisted. “You will find ways to make friends and you will find a place for yourself––I promise––but you have to go to school and try first. You deserve to get to be a real child for a change––to not bear the weight of the responsibilities you had before. Growing up is not…”

She trailed off as Fergus sighed again. She didn’t need to remind him of the horrors the world held; he’d seen many of them first-hand before she’d even met him. What he needed was a mother.

She slipped a hand behind his back and did her best to raise him up.

“You’re going to be late and I want you to have a decent breakfast before I walk you to school,” she told him. “Any and all further griping must wait until the end of the day when you have something new to gripe about.”

Fergus allowed himself to be led from his room.

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Steve asks out the French girl

The English to when she speaks in French is in the () so you can understand a little better, I hope you like it! :) 

You had just moved to town from France. It was so hard being a foreign exchange student. You spoke little to no English. It was your first day here and you were walking around town for a while. It started to get dark, but you couldn’t remember the way home, plus you wanted a drink. You came arcoss this building with a DX. People working there must be able to help you home. When you walked inside this guy looked at you

“Hey, I’m Steve.” He smiled, he always said his name when it was a hot girl.

“Bonjour. (YN)” You smiled and waved a bit.

“Oh French girl, are you the foreign exchanged student?” He asked.

“Quoi? (What)” You looked at him confused.

“I’m going to take that as a yes, and that you can’t speak English.” He nodded a bit. “Uh what can I help you with?” He asked after a while.

You noticed a coke in a cooler behind the counter and pointed to it.

“Oh you want a drink?” He grabbed one.

“Oui (yes)” You smiled as he handed it to you. “merci (Thank you)”

“It’s free.” He smiled. “Do you think, I could take you out sometime like on a date?” He knew it was a long shot but you were hot, so he had to try. You looked at him confused for a second. “Date? Like dinner?”

“Oh oui. (Oh yes)” You smiled and nodded.

“Really?” He was a little shocked. You nodded, “Tomorrow night?” He asked pointing to the calendar.

“Oui.” You nodded “pouvez-vous me aider à la maison? (can you help me home?)”

“What?” He asked really confused.

You grabbed some paper and a pen and drawled a house.

“Oh house, you are lost?” He asked. “I get over in 5, I can drive you.” He pointed at the clock then the house.

You smiled excitedly and waited until he was off, after driving for a couple blocks you remember how to get home and pointed to show him.

“See you tomorrow?” He asked as he came to a stop.

You smiled widely before getting out and going inside. You really liked him, he was cute and you hoped you could overcome the language barrier. 

i just want an orphan black high school au where alison is a melodramatic theatre kid and beth is a no-nonsense track star and they go out

and helena is one of the skater kids who smokes pot and she sells it to cosima, a straight-a student who flirts with everybody but gets tongue-tied around french foreign exchange student delphine

and sarah and felix are the badass alternative kids who listen to bands like all time low and are in an alternative rock band together

(and somehow no one finds it weird or confusing that they pretty much all look exactly alike)

anonymous asked:

So sorry you're having trouble getting through work :( I'm sending positive vibes your way. I smiled this week because our foreign exchange student had a burnt piece of French toast and didn't know the word burnt so she said "my French toast is too toasty" and now my inside joke with her is to say everything is too toasty (dumb but it feels good to laugh). Can I request something like a couple eating breakfast and being domestic (clintasha or stucky or another pairing is fine) thank you!!

“Your kitchen is a mess,” Natasha announces, not bothering to turn away from the counter to look at Clint.

“It’s a metaphor for my life,” Clint mumbles into his hand. “Or…something. Is there coffee?”

“There’s toast. It’s…extra toasty.” That answers Clint’s question, then. Natasha never allows herself to have less than a perfect American accent, but sometimes she loses words before coffee. “Burnt.”

“I never did trust that toaster.”

“I don’t trust anything in this kitchen.”

“Not even Lucky?”

Lucky looks up from the pieces of toast he’d been eating off of the floor. Natasha pats his head. 

“Not even Lucky,” she smiles. “How about we hit a diner?”

“Waffles,” Clint says in agreement, heading towards the door.

“Clint.”

“Yeah?”

“Pants.”

“Oh. Yeah.”

[these prompts are like 2 months old I’m sorry please don’t send more prompts]

Bill Stories

so these are all from teachers of his/mine and turns out one of them was a friend of his so there’s a story directly from him:

  • Bill was in the practice room for band. He broke a trumpet and a clarinet and knocked over a line of boys.
  • There weren’t enough girls for the play in drama. Bill decided he would take one girl’s role.
  • Bill would give out plays he wrote during school. Once the music teacher stopped him like “WILLIAM WHAT ARE YOU GIVING OUT” and he panicked and said “pot” but the teacher knew it wasn’t pot so he let him go.
  • Bill joined the pipe and drum group. Bill got kicked out for wearing his kilt during the school day.
  • Bill lived on the block of a small girl with a huge dog, and was amused by her trying to walk the dog. He invited friends over to watch this. Soon, there were a dozen boys watching her walk the dog.
  • For this, Bill made a sign that said “Will you marry me?”. On the other side, it said, “Not you, the dog.”
  • It’s a senior drama tradition to sign the ceiling of the stage. Bill went to do this, fell off the ladder, and broke his arm. Still today, it says “William C” with a mark after C, when he fell.
  • Bill liked a girl from another school. This school happened to be all girls. He got a uniform, went in, and wasn’t caught until sixth period art class, when the teacher thought Bill was his wife.
  • Bill once tricked a new teacher into thinking he was a French exchange student for three days until another teacher came in called for him and she said “Oh, you’re not saying his name right” and the other teacher just looked at him
i need to take my mind off things blog rates

so my french exchange student just left and I already miss her and I want to take my mind of things and I like doing blog rates so yeah. here goes :)

Rules:

  • must be following me
  • must reblog this post
  • must send me an ask telling me a favorite head cannon of yours or a song rec
  • black list anna rates to not see these

Rates will look like this:

URL: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | ELIZA TAYLOR

ICON: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | BOB MORLEY

THEME: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | NATALIE DORMER

BIO/UPDATES: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | EMMA WATSON

POSTS: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | LAVERNE COX

OVERALL: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | ELLEN DEGENERES

FOLLOWING?: no but you are amazing | + follow | yes ofc | you are literally never getting rid of me

COMMENTS/COMPLIMENTS: