#I know the English version changes this so I can't expect him to know this per se

[itwasntimethatdidit40]

It feels like hope.

Pairing: Hot Priest!Joel Miller x f!reader, no outbreak

Words count: 5700

Rating: Strictly +18, MINORS DON’T INTERACT

Warnings: pov second person, no use of y/n, priest kink, catholic guilt, religious kink, smut, unprotected p in v (use protections IRL!), reader has breasts and vagina and hair that can be pulled and wears a shirt and a skirt, apart from that no other description is given, age is not mentioned but they’re both grown up adults and reader is only inexperienced because she grew up in a very catholic family, fingering (f receiving), oral (m receiving), sex in a rectory, hair pulling, blasphemy all over the place 💀, pussy pronouns she/her, drinking, two hits on nipples, improper use of liturgical objects, cream pie, pet names (angel, baby), reader calls him "Father" during sex, mention of hell, mention of porn videos, mention of masturbation, improper use of prayers, God named in vain, another thing that I won’t spoil... listen, this thing is filthy, probably the filthiest more immoral thing I've ever wrote, ok? If you think you can't handle it just scroll down to another story.

This is a revised version of something I had already posted and then deleted because I personally didn't like it.

It took me months to come to an end with it, I don’t know why, I’ve changed a lot of things, I’ve changed the pov, I’ve changed dynamics etc… I really really hope you will enjoy it and please be gentle with me, I really tried hard even if you would think it’s no good.

English is not my first language and I have no beta so any mistake is all my fault, I’m sorry.

Title is a Fleabag quote, specifically from our beloved hot priest “when you find somebody that you love, it feels like hope”

Thanks to everyone who has shown interest in this story, thanks to those who were there from the beginning (you know who you are and I love you) and thanks to anyone who will read 🩷

(Just added a brief note at the end 😉)

Archive tags: @pedrostories ♥��

It all started on a Sunday. 

You came to your neighborhood church expecting a nice function and you exited knowing you were doomed. 

That Sunday you met the new parish priest.

From the first moment you felt like something in you was compromised. 

You couldn't even explain it to yourself and you had never felt like this, it was something so unfamiliar. 

A need you’ve never felt before.

Your eyes glued to his holy form, adoring his raven curly hair, his scruff, the curve of his neck, his strong nose, plump lips, broad shoulders, thick thighs, big hands.

Courteous and kind as he greeted parishioners leaving the church, he shook your hand and you felt a jolt.

You weren’t like this before, you did things to do good to others before. But now…

Volunteering for every event, clothing drive, bake sale, children's shows. You were always there for the ride. Making excuses to talk to him.

Wondering if he had any more freckles than the ones on his neck, how warm his skin would be, how manly and intoxicating his scent would be, what his kisses would taste like, what his fingers would have felt like inside your cunt, peeking at the outline of his cock under his black pants.

A perfect Christian girl who would have make your mother proud on the outside, a raging hell of arousal on the inside.

You couldn’t believe that he was him who had awakened this new person inside you, insanely hungry, wanting, needing to taste, lick, bite. 

His low gruff voice grueling from his chest echoed against your damp inner walls so much that you were almost afraid to get up after the mass and see a stain where you were seated.

It was more and more difficult every time to fight your urge, stay on the tracks of life that you were taught to live, no sex before marriage, no masturbation because it’s a sin, no impure thoughts because you were a good girl.

Yet now you could hear them, all those voices crowding your head, pushing you towards something you had been taught was wrong.

Entering the church you were trembling, guilt pulsing in your gut.

Everything was quiet and serene, your eyes wandered on the frescoed walls, the organ, the large altar and the wooden benches neatly lined up in rows in the central nave, your steps sounded uncertain and timid on the marble floor.

You entered the confessional feeling your heart beating wildly in your chest, palms sweating and your mouth dry.

You could hear his breathing through the grate.

“Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned” 

The following silence weighed like never before.

“Open your heart to the Lord so He can forgive your sins”

And you had confessed. 

The words slipped from your mouth like pearls from a broken necklace, finally rolling free between your lips revealing your every sordid thought.

The girl shaped by catholic parents to be a modest virgin, mother and maid, perfect smile and delicate manners was in reality a shameful bundle of filth.

You were a sinner.

A sinner eaten out from dirty thoughts.

You told him how you couldn't stop thinking about him, how you had questioned your feelings and who you were as a person, how you hadn't spent a night without touching yourself thinking about him in many months.

You told him about your desire to kiss him and more. So much more. Everything.

Every single time you lowered your hand in your panties, every single time you squeezed your breasts, driven by instinct and desire, every single time you thought of him as Joel. Just Joel, a man.

You just wanted to let go of the weight on your chest, coming clean. If you said it all out loud you would have realized how crazy it was.

You heard the door snapping, a few heavy steps close to where you were seated, the door opening to your side.  

Suddenly he was there, standing in front of you.

He said nothing, only grabbed your arm, dragging you to the rectory.

Dust in the air danced beneath the soft light that came in from two small windows high up.

There wasn't much in the room, a cupboard where liturgical objects were kept, a table, a wardrobe where the clothes for the service were hung.

Nobody was there except the two of you, you could hear the rumble of his breathing and your heart drumming behind your rib cage.

He was staring at you. 

Your mouth sealed, a lump in your stomach.

You thought about the day he tried to teach you how to play guitar.

You were here, together, helping with the Christmas party. He was sitting strumming when you walked in, you tried not to surprise him from behind by pretending to cough and he turned to you. He didn’t stop playing as he greeted you, you told him “I didn’t know you played” and he invited you to try. As you sat down your legs were shaking, he gave you the guitar and you just stared at it, fingers uncertain and mind empty. 

“It’s not that hard” he told you and he leaned over you taking one of your hands in his and placing it on the neck of the guitar, moving your fingers over the strings “like this. Now play”

You strummed on the guitar and an unpleasant sound came out, you both laughed softly at your clumsiness and a flood of pleasure slicked your panties.

His breath on you was like a caress, you felt the minty scent grazing at your nostrils.

For a moment, just for a moment you thought, “I could turn around right now and kiss him. A few inches and my lips would be on his.”

Your desire flowed before your eyes, leaving you with nothing else to look at.

“But I can’t. I can’t.” 

You've tried to swat away that sinful thought with another strum on the guitar but nothing disappeared, instead it burned in your core even strongly than before.

You thought about that day when the rain caught you on your way to set up the bake sale, how you walked into the rectory soaked from head to toe, how he looked at your shirt stuck to your skin that left little to the imagination, how you instinctively covered yourself when you just wanted to let your arms hang at your sides and let him look at you. You saw a reaction in his eyes as he mumbled that he was going to get you a towel, just a moment before he regained his composure, and it was enough. You knew that he was not indifferent to you. That night you touched yourself imagining what it would be like if he took your shirt off, if he placed his lips on your neck, his tongue on your breast, his cock inside you.

You started to navigate on porn sites daily, out of curiosity first and then because you needed to see, you needed to imagine, you needed to visualize something so unfamiliar and strange to you. 

You were ashamed, but at the same time you couldn't help it, it was the only resource you could think of looking for and it was there, on your phone, private, no one would have known. You didn't even imagine you would find so many, a whole catalog of big dicks, huge tits, positions that your brain couldn't conceive.

Seeing those women pleasuring themselves scared you but at the same time attracted you, you wanted to be like them, you wanted to reach that pleasure, you wanted to try their way of using their hands, you wanted to refine your clumsy way of reaching that heat between your legs.

You sinked into it.

If your parents had known, if your community had known, you would have been branded an unworthy woman, a pervert, a slut.

But your parents were far away now, your whole life was somewhere else and you were proud to have freed yourself from the golden cage they had locked you in. You were an adult now, it was the moment to choose for yourself. If they hadn’t always denied you any other vision of the world, if they hadn’t forbidden you to have the experiences that everyone has in their youth, maybe it wouldn’t have happened this way.

His mouth was a thin line, tensed, you looked into his eyes and you saw nothing than dark.

So much different from the gentle detachment he had always shown to everyone, his look was a mixture of concern, agitation, maybe a hint of fear, but most of all - to your great surprise - sexual arousal.

You could see him cracking behind those eyes, you could feel his mind filling with all sorts of questions.

His voice was barely a whisper but sharp as a blade when he finally spoke “Are you even honest with that ‘I am a good christian’ thing? Say the truth”

You hesitated, the uneasiest bitter taste in your mouth.

“I-” your throat felt like atrophied “yes” you tried to say.

“No, you’re not. The least you could do is being fucking honest with Him” he raised his finger pointing it at the ceiling.

You’ve never heard him cursing before.

You looked down feeling the weight of your stomach turn to lead and then concrete and if you thought you were free now you felt even more guilty. 

You said the only thing your brain could think of at that moment and you knew what you were asking for, you knew what it would do to him and you knew that in this way you would drag him down with you. And yet you did it anyway, because desire was stronger than anything, than faith, than lies, than truth.

“I need-I need to repent. Teach me” you pleaded “teach me how to be good”

Something lit up in his gaze, like a spark of hell, a glow of lust.

He turned around and you hungrily followed his every move.

His hands moving expertly, the cupboard opening, him taking out the mass wine and pouring it into a chalice.

You saw him down the entire glass, without hesitation, without a shred of tremor.

You felt like you were watching a hurricane approaching, just waiting for the wind to suck you in without being able to do anything else.

You wanted it. You wanted it to sweep you away, to make you someone else, braver, indomitable, someone who wasn’t afraid to say what she wanted because of a belief that had been instilled in her, someone who was simply herself. 

We are all born with guilt, you told yourself. I am tired, tired of dealing with mine so much.

You just wanted to feel alive, to feel something authentic and fierce, no half measures. 

You wanted to be desired in a way that felt relentless and desperate, like air that is necessary to keep humans alive, something unique and undeniable.

Could Joel read it in your eyes? He was so good at reading people, you could tell it right away. 

He had guessed a lot about you, he had noticed how coffee was a weakness of yours - and his - and he offered you a cup first thing in every meeting.

He had noticed how nervous Danny, a parishioner who liked to play the fool with any woman present, most often in front of his wife, got you and made sure to never leave you alone with him.

He had noticed how much you enjoyed sewing and had assigned you the costumes for the play and praised your work. 

And he did the same with the guitar that day when he saw how enthusiast and curious you were about it. He didn't say it openly, but his gestures spoke for him.

He came closer to you again, bending the chalice to your mouth and said “drink”. Sharp, cold, an order.

At that point you didn’t care it was something you were not supposed to do, forbidden, maybe unholy even, you just drank. 

You were dealing with a part of yourself that always existed but you had put that in a box.

Joel looked into your eyes sternly and said: “Show me the good Christian that you think you are. Pray.”

“What?”

“Pray. Right now” 

“What prayer?” You asked, confused.

“You're not starting off well, you should know that.” He smirked, caught you in fail.

“Act of contrition” you whispered and he nodded “yes. That’s right.”

He was just inches away from you, his crucifix hanging between your bodies, grazing at your stomach. 

You began to recite in a low voice, stumbling over your words, your brain couldn’t think straight:

“O my God, I am heartily sorry for having offended Thee, and I detest… all my sins because of thy just punishments, but most of all because they offended Thee, my God, who art all good and deserving all my love.”

You said it dozen of times before and yet it seemed totally different in that moment. 

Joel took off his rosary, letting it dangle from his hand and swing across your chest. Beads brushed against the cotton bra you wore under your blouse, making your nipples harden, you could feel them pushing against the fabric.

“Go on”

“I- I firmly resolve with the help of Thy grace to sin no more and to avoid the near occasion of sin. Amen”

“Take off your shirt,” he told you in a whisper.

Something shifted inside him “and your bra”

His voice was no longer the same, it came from deep within him, frighteningly authoritarian but to you it seemed like a magic instrument that was hypnotizing you.

You did what he told you. 

You were half naked in front of a man for the first time. It could have happened before, much before, but of course you couldn’t because you never got married. No one was supposed to see your body except the man you were going to take to the altar. That’s what they taught you.

Joel looked at you, entranced, almost in disbelief. You wondered how long it had been since he’d seen someone else’s naked body, what effect it had on him. 

You were more alike than you seemed, both of you denied something because of religion. 

You were both more needy and frustrated than you were allowed to admit. Tension hung in the air like a fog that clouded both of your gazes.

Every time you had talked to him you had noticed the way he looked at you but you thought it was all in your head, like you were a poor naive girl who was building castles in the air, but now you knew that wasn't the case.

It was another thing you shouldn’t have done but you prayed deep down that he wouldn’t decide to stop.

He raised his arm, clutching his rosary. You felt a slash through the air and then a sharp smack on your nipple.

You looked down shocked as the pain quickly turned into a dull pleasure rising from the pit of your tummy, to fade more and more, becoming a tingling sensation.

You liked it.

You wanted more.

He did the same at your other breast and all the breath you had left in your body had slipped past your lips in a lustful sob.

He took one of your nipples between his fingers, twisting and pinching it and you couldn’t help but moan. A sound you never made for no one and you made it first for a priest.

His body pushed you against the wall, his breath on your neck, his fingers didn't stop torturing your nipple. Everything you saw was red. Red like the passion you had never felt before, red like the blood that pulsed in your veins, red like sin.

“Kneel” he said firmly.

You were equal parts scared of making a fool of yourself and eager to try.

You knelt down, feeling the cold of the floor touch your shins. 

His eyes were as uncertain as yours, it was new territory for both of you but you saw a flame burning in him and you felt it inside you. 

His face was serious, tense, as if he was ashamed of what he was doing but couldn't contain. 

He was punishing you and punishing himself at the same time.

You weren’t afraid though, you were ready to face what was eating you up and you trusted Joel for some reason. You could see in him that he wouldn’t hurt you. At least not more than you wanted.

Your tentative fingers undid his pants, letting them sag around his ankles. A pronounced erection protruded from his boxers as his eyes almost begged you, they weren’t cruel and ruthless eyes, but rather needy and guilty.

You moved your hand closer to his crotch, hesitating for a moment before placing it there, testing the sensation, opening your fingers around it to realize how thick it was. You could feel the heat through the fabric. You caressed it, feeling the tremor that shook Joel's body. Your eyes couldn't tear themselves away, it was the first time you had seen one in person, you were amazed and attracted. You continued to caress him until you heard a grunt leave Joel’s lips and a stain wet the front of his boxers. You were struck by how much he was growing under your hand and the smell, like musk, pungent but not unpleasant.

You remembered the videos you had seen, how women did it, looking into the men's eyes lustfully, with a confidence and naturalness you had never acquired. You wanted to be like them, but you were afraid of being ridiculous or grotesque.

You slowly pulled down his boxers, gasping at the sight of his cock springing free. 

Joel had his eyes fixed on you, they were encouraging somehow, he made you feel safe but the trembling of your fingers did not stop. You took his shaft in your hand again and were surprised at how soft his skin was there, velvety. You watched that thin layer of skin retract as you moved your hand up and down like you had seen in the videos, it felt incredible. It was heavy, hot and throbbing. It was uncut. His big balls hanging right under. You ran your thumb over the tip, collecting the pre-cum that was leaking, spreading it around.

Joel was quiet, he let you do it.

He was touch starving, just like you.

You lowered your head and licked him, just with the tip of your tongue. A timid lick, like a kitten.

His taste, matching the musky scent you could smell, invaded your mouth in an instant. You had never tasted anything like it. You braced yourself, while Joel waited, and licked once more, this time starting at the base and working your way up.

Joel groaned.

You pulled away, looking into his eyes, he brought a hand to your cheek and then to your chin and took it in his palm. 

“You are so beautiful” he whispered.

And you felt beautiful, you felt like someone was really seeing you for the first time. And you loved that that someone was him.

You took a deep breath and lowered your head onto his cock, you knew you couldn't fit it all in your mouth, but you wanted to take as much as you could.

“Don’t force yourself” Joel murmured as your lips touched his skin, causing another whine.

“I want to do it” you replied resolutely, you were loving hearing him whimper beneath you.

His length slid across your tongue, wet and salty, your lips closing around it.

You closed your eyes and focused on that feeling, just holding it there, nestled inside.

“Suck it,” Joel commanded gently, bringing a hand into your hair and twining his fingers there.

You were unsure how to do it, you tried to suck it in as if you were using a large straw, with all the breath you had.

Joel flinched, almost losing his balance “Easy, baby” he muttered

You pulled away again, eyes widened “oh my god, I’m sorry” almost afraid of having hurt him but he immediately reassured you "no it's okay, just... go slower, go slower if you don't want me to come right away”

“Uh- okay” responding timidly to the smile that was spreading across his face.

You began to suck again more calmly, holding the base tightly with your hand, feeling it pulsate between your fingers and on your tongue.

It was an addictive sensation, spreading through your synapses like a drug.

Obviously you had never tried any drugs, but you imagined that the sensation might be similar to something like that.

Joel still held your head, his grip tightening as you continued, you could feel his body tense and respond, and you liked it. You liked it more than you ever liked putting on your Sunday best and going to say prayers with your parents like you always had.

There was actually a prayer that was ringing in your head and it was Joel's, who softly repeated "just like that, you're being so good to me”

It was exhilarating.

You felt like you had a true gift, for once in your life.

An obscene gift, but still.

You had the courage to run from your mom and dad and then at what felt like a minute later you found yourself there, naked from waist up, on your knees, sucking a priest cock.

You’ve never felt more alive.

Deep down you were exactly that person there, not a whore like everyone you knew would say. Just a woman, a woman who wanted what other women wanted. Sex, pleasure, being important to someone or just not being condemned to do what others wanted for you.

You continued to suck as Joel's breathing became heavier and more labored.

At that point he was just uttering disconnected phrases like “oh my God” and “Yes, go on”, his voice hoarse and scratchy.

Suddenly he started shaking violently, almost falling, as something warm and sticky hit your throat. You knew what it was and you were eager to swallow, as you had seen done in so many videos.

A little of it slipped from your lips, down your chin, onto your neck.

Joel's hand was still in your hair, it almost hurt but it was a delicious pain that you were enduring, a small punishment for the rush of adrenaline and excitement that was coursing through you.

You kept holding his cock in your mouth until you felt it relax.

“Get up,” Joel said gently, still out of breath, as he was fixing his boxers and pants.

Your knees almost gave out, you leaned against the wall feeling wetness on your panties.

Joel came closer to you, placing a hand on your cheek, pulling you into a deep kiss that left you stunned for a second and then you were more than happy to reciprocate. His tongue in your mouth explored feverishly, you wondered if he could taste himself from your lips.

He pulled out saying “I’ve never done anything like this before” and you replied “me neither.” 

And then he was on your lips again, nibbling at your lower one, placing his hand on your thigh, raising it under your skirt, up to your drenched panties, grazing them with his fingers.

You squirmed, moaning a “yes, please” from down your throat, a tingle spreading on your outer lips, in your tummy, up to your chest.

He put his hand inside your panties, brushing your skin.

“What should I do with you?” He asked, in an almost desperate tone, as if he knew he couldn't stop and was asking permission not to.

“Make me come” you pleaded “Please.”

He sighed, pulling your panties aside and sliding his index and middle fingers between your folds, gathering your wetness up to your clit, starting circling it as you writhed. 

It was different than when you did it yourself, his fingers bigger and stronger, his touch a little clumsy but still effective and intoxicating.

His mouth landed on your neck, stifling a moan, sucking a hickey where it joined your shoulders, nibbling hungrily at your skin.

“Have you ever done this before?” 

“Just…me” 

He smirked “have you ever put your fingers inside you?” 

“I- yes.” there were no point on beating around the bush, you told him that you touched yourself thinking about him. You were already deep down into that dizzy. 

“Put your fingers in me” you added immediately “I want to feel them, please Joel, I want to know what they can do to me” 

“You sure?” 

“Yes, yes.” You breathed.

He prodded at your entrance,  just a little bit, making you whine just with his fingers tip.

The rosary lay abandoned on the floor, you could see it out of the corner of your eye and you didn't care about that eyewitness symbol of what was happening between you two.

You would have liked him to put it around your neck while he fucked you, fully participating in that sinful act. 

You were surprised yourself at what you were thinking but somehow it made you even more eager.

You felt two of his fingers sink inside you, filling that void that you had never been able to fill enough on your own, stretching you. 

It hurts a little at first because they were bigger than yours, but then it was more heavenly than anything else. If you were made for anything, it was to be there in that moment.

Joel looked ecstatic “God, she’s so… wet” he whispered “and warm” His face was the representation of pleasure, lips slightly parted, his eyes wide, his pupils dilated, his heavy breathing blowing on your neck.

He began to move his fingers inside you rhythmically, each thrust making you shake and sob, a litany of “yes” coming out strangled from your mouth.

He went slowly, taking his time, as if he was savoring every second of your pussy tightening around his fingers.

He placed his other hand on your breast again, cupping and squeezing and then twisting your nipple. Big hand full of your tit.

It was beautiful. You didn’t know how or why people could deny themselves that, but you certainly wouldn’t do it again, not after having Joel inside you. He curled his fingers, looking for the right way to make you feel the pleasure you wanted, the one you kept asking for.

“You like that, baby?” He asked with an hopeful tone

“It feels so good, so good” you told him, clinging to his neck, digging your nails into his soft skin as you felt like you were losing your mind. You didn't care about losing it, your mind had ruled your life for so, so long.

“Please don’t stop” you murmured, tightening your other hand on his wrist, guiding him “don't stop”

You felt your essence slowly leaking out of you, spreading over Joel's fingers and your outer lips, you had never been so soaked, never so much as under Joel's touch.

Your eyes suddenly fixed on that little piece of white cloth that was around his neck, that little piece that made all the difference in the world and made what you were doing terribly wrong in the eyes of others and God and Joel kissed you again like a man deprived and starved, his lips trembling and dramatic, asking silently for more and more, like they were drinking from yours.

He was all over you, like a sailor through a  violent storm, he clung to whatever he could, as if it were a matter of life and death. 

Tasting him like this, the smell of his skin, his warmth, his clerical clothes rubbing against your half-naked body, made your head spin.

You moved your hand onto his collar, grasping it with your fingers, pulling it, until it came undone, you squeezed it as you came copiously, repeating Joel's name and God's, cutting off your moans, abandoning your head on Joel's shoulder.

It was all too much and yet not enough, you wished it would never end. Joel held you tight, one hand moving behind your back, as his fingers continued to sink into you. The blinding pleasure that had invaded every fiber of your body was raging like hell’s flames inside you, like a sinful but also purifying fire, wrong and right, heavenly and hellish.

And then it slowly faded, giving way to a sense of satisfaction that had never belonged to you.

You could feel his erection pressing against your thigh, hard and demanding again.

Joel grunted, pulling his fingers out of you, taking them to his lips, gathering your juices with his tongue.

“I want… I want your cock, Father” you whispered, at that point you felt greedy, delirious, drunk on sex.

His eyes widened, being called “Father” was making him even more aroused and dizzy.

You grabbed his balls from above his pants, holding your hand tightly on them “please, Joel”.

If you were going to Hell for this, you might as well go all the way.

Joel pushed you against the table on the other side of the room, making you sit on it, unzipped his pants again, pulling out his cock without hesitation, as if he had finally accepted his fate.

His fingers were big but his cock… you wondered how it would all fit inside you.

“I’ll go slowly” Joel reassured you “It will fit” he said, brushing your folds with the tip, aligning his cock with your entrance, as if he had guessed your thoughts. His eyes were blacker than ever as he prodded his shaft past through your lips.

It felt overwhelming, so big and pulsing, it hurt but you almost immediately felt a fullness that you had never felt and a sense of belonging, your pussy opened like a bud, widening and molding for him.

If you were made for anything, it was to be there in that moment.

“She’s tight, so damn tight” Joel gawked “fuck” 

You whimpered, looking at his face, so serious, pleasure written all over it and you felt like it was right, it had to be right if it was that good.

“Make me yours, Father, make me good” you pleaded. 

Joel growled as he slid in and out of you, slamming against your walls, your pussy making obscene squelching sounds every time he moved, dripping all over his cock and the table.

It didn’t even seem embarrassing to you to be so inexperienced, you both were. You didn’t know if Joel had had sex before but you guessed he hadn’t had it in a long time anyway. 

You didn't know if it was the way it was supposed to be but you felt like it was natural, not like in the videos you'd seen which were probably mostly choreographed to please the eye.

It was sex. Pure and simple. Urgent, hungry, even uncontrolled.

And the way your body reacted, melting like wax under Joel's hands, arching into his touch, bending to his will, and seeking all the friction you could get, told you that this was the right way for you.

“See?” Joel mumbled “You’re taking me so well, baby, a perfect angel for me”

You twisted your legs behind his back, pushing him against you as much as you could, kissing the exposed skin on his neck. It drove you crazy that he was still dressed, you wanted to rip off his shirt and run your hands down on him, feel his warm skin on yours so you did it. You placed your hands on both sides and you just popped every button, revealing his broad chest, feeding your eyes with every single detail and your fingers with every shape and curve.

“Never had a cock inside before but that pussy is made for mine, I swear to God she is” he started desperately rutting into you, deeper strokes every time, taking God’s name in vain, murmuring some prayers while he pounded into you. You could feel his big vein brushing at your walls, his big mushroom hammering your cervix, the most intense rapture you’ve ever felt.

He pulled at your hair, forcing you to look him in the eye, murmuring “that’s what you wanted, huh? Dragging me to hell with you?”

Your eyes filled with tears at the thought. It was true, somehow you corrupted him, but you were willing to face that just to feel something so strong. You weren’t sure about him though.

But again, he was there, right there with you, with his cock inside your cunt and you didn’t force any of it, he could say no, he could stop, but he choose the sin. Now blaming you wasn’t so saintly nor kind, but you understood why he did that. He needed to blame someone other than himself, and you were there, open arm taking the weight for him.

Your ass slid back and forth on the wood of the table with each thrust, one of his hands was on your nipple again while the other held you behind your back. He then moved to your clit, applying pressure on it, circling it with two fingers.

You looked down only to see his cock sinking between your lips, his balls bouncing and the bush of hair that adorned his groin glistening with your juices.

You could smell the sex in the air, your mingling scents becoming one, your pleasure merging and becoming one as he shot huge spurts of cum into you.

He muttered a prayer, asking God for forgiveness, his voice exhausted, hoarse, broken by orgasm.

And then you woke up.

Your room was quiet, the crucifix that your mom gave you hanging on the wall behind your bed.

It took a few seconds for your sleepy, blurry gaze to settle on it, you were sweaty and shocked.

You closed your eyes, shutting them and cursing under your breath. 

You unrolled your body from the sheets and then stood up and picked up the crucifix. Your days as a good, God-fearing girl were over.

A/n: if you don't know what is dream and what is reality in the story at this point, that's what I wanted, I hope it's not too confusing but I wanted to try something new. I hope you liked it and thanks for your time 🩷

[dearmantis]

Golden Crown of Sorrow

Pairing: Aleksander Morozova/The Darkling x fem!Princess!Reader

Summary: After sending dozens of letters begging your father to help you flee from your betrothed and his family, someone finally comes to save you

Warnings: domestic abuse, neglectful/abusive parents, sexism/violence against women, mentions of suicide, murder, mentions of child murder, mentions of getting attacked by an animal (if you get bitten by something, even a human, get checked by a medical professional), Fjerda slander, mention of pregnancy

Word Count: 4k words

Authors Note: This was originally part of A little loss of Innocence but it works way better as it's own one shot. Also, please pay attention to the warnings. English is not my native language and I didn't edit this

"Did my father send you?" You ask as you settle in the carriage, voice timid and quiet in a way that is so unlike the version of you that he knows that it throws him off for a second.

You haven't spoken at all during the ride here, contempt in burying your fingers in the mane of his horse or sleeping as he led it away from the house of the family you were promised to, and starring at the forest or the small fires he lit to cook food during the breaks.

His gaze wanders over you, taking in the way your shoulders are pulled together to make you appear smaller, the small, almost invisible cut on your left cheek, the way you keep wincing when the carriage shakes a bit, and how your eyes keep jumping around, gaze always flickering between the window and the position of his hands.

He can't lie to you, he realises. You're suspicious and filled to the brim with fear and paranoia. Whatever happened in Fjerda has shaken you to the core and thrown you right into survival mode. If he lies to you and you find out, you will never trust him with anything ever again.

Because even if you recover from this, you will always remember the fact that he lied to you when you were in your most vulnerable state. And Aleksander needs the trust of the royal family, as much as he might despise that fact.

"No"

You bite your lip harshly, teeth digging into the chapped, dry flesh before you nod, eyes finding his. The suspicion in them is stronger now, accompanied by a bit of confusion.

"Then why did you come? What's in it for you?"

Aleksander frowns. "Excuse me, your highness?"

"Why are you saving me? Why did you decide to come here instead of letting me die in Djerholm? My own family was ready to watch me perish there after all."

There is no anger in your voice, no sadness, nothing. Just this monotone, quiet, submissive voice that doesn't fit someone born into the status of royalty.

But your gaze is scrutinizing, clarifying that every question you ask is a test designed to make him trip in hopes of revealing his true motivations. You're expecting him to lie to you. In the back of your mind you're probably already planning how to weasel the truth out of him, so all he can really do to take control over the situation and reassure you into trusting him is to reveal the truth and in turn his playing cards for this specific game.

You want him to lie, and he has never enjoyed doing what the royal family wants.

"Glory"

Your surprise is like a shooting star: Visible for a singular heartbeat, then gone forever.

"Glory?" Your eyes look back down to your knees, your hands playing with the fabric of the skirt of your dress while the volume of your voice drops into a whisper. "You won't achieve glory like this. You will most likely be punished for saving me, and I'll be sent back."

Your behaviour is starting to bother him. It was a welcome change when he first got you out and traveled through Fjerda with you on the saddle in front of him, but now all he wants to do is shake you until the words start falling out of your mouth.

He thought you were just quiet because you were scared of being caught, but evidently, nothing has changed for you after he led you across the border to Ravka.

Maybe it would've been better to lie? To tell you that he was some kind of chivalrous knight in shining armour who had come to Fjerda out of the goodness of his own heart to save his struggling princess?

"I doubt that you'll be send back, your highness," he responds carefully. He never thought about the fact that your family might be upset about him saving you. They did give you away after all, and he simply acted on the assumption that they love you and want you to be safe, like all parents should. He should know by now that many parents don't love their children.

"I hope you're right," you mumble, averting your gaze to look at the scenery of Ravka rushing past the window, "For the sake of both of us."

You sink back into silence after that, and the letter still stuck in a pocket of his kefta is suddenly heavy as a bag of bricks. It's a short one, written on a scrap of paper that you must've somehow smuggled out of the house of your betrothed. It had ended up in his mail one day, either through an accident or through a servant who couldn't continue to watch the king ignore your cries for help.

Please father. I don't know how much longer I can survive this. I dream of taking a knife to my throat every day. I'm not strong enough for this.

The next time you speak, you're less than ten minutes away from the town where he planned to take a break, your quiet voice piercing through the air like an arrow.

"Do you have to bring me to my father?"

Aleksander looks up from the documents he had been reading, a deep frown on his face. "Where else would I bring you, your highness?"

You mirror his facial expression. "You could hide me at the Little Palace."

"No, I can't. What if someone catches you?"

"Nobody would catch me, I promise. I would be so quiet, I would never leave my rooms I would-"

"No. End of the discussion, or I'll tell the coachman to turn around and bring you back to your betrothed."

His voice is sharp and cold, the stress from the last few days finally boiling over, and you flinch back from him so harshly that your head hits the wood behind you. Fear burns like a small fire in your gaze, your frame curling in on itself even further.

You don't talk at all for two days straight after that. The only time he hears your voice is when you scream and cry at night, probably due to nightmares.

Looking back, he probably overreacted a bit.

The next time you talk, it's only because he asks you a question.

You're both sitting in a tavern, quietly eating together, and while your gaze keeps jumping from the three other people around you to the door and the windows, his is glued to you.

He has collected a thousand questions on his tongue in the last few days, and his mind works overtime trying to discern the differences between you now and you before all of this. Before the betrothal, before your travels to Fjerda.

"What exactly happened to you in Fjerda?"

Your attention shifts to him, brows furrowed.

"The same thing that always happens when a woman of Ravka gets betrothed to a man of Fjerda."

In the back of his mind, he remembers the death of Princess Fruzsina. How her brother, crown prince Konstantin, didn't let anyone see her or her newborn daughters corpse when they were transported back to Ravka, not even her own parents.

"Nobody needs to see this. It's better to remember her the way she was when she was still here."

He feels acid rising in his throat.

You talk again a few hours later, attention flickering from the window of the carriage to him and back a few times before you finally manage to find your voice again.

"Why did no one ever betroth you to someone?" You ask carefully.

Aleksander looks up from the book he has been reading, a small spark of annoyance visible in his eyes at the interruption.

He regrets it as soon as he sees you flinch again, his mind immediately travelling back to that young woman completely wrapped in shroud, her small babe right next to her. Just bundles of linen, not a milimetre of skin visible.

"Excuse me, your highness?"

"Why did no one ever betroth you to someone?" You repeat, "Or one of your ancestors at least. Wouldn't that make sense? Tie you and the Darkling line to the royal family through marriage and kids, force allegiance that way?"

Closing the book slowly, he lets your words roll over in his head.

"The Darklings have been loyal to the Royal Family since the Black Heretic died."

"Yes, but wouldn't it be better to tie the families together forever? It would also help to smooth over past animosities, I think. Suddenly, the king isn't just a stranger. He's the current Darklings father in law or uncle. And the Darkling is no longer a random stranger to the Princes and Princesses either. He's their cousin."

The idea is simple and logical, he has to give you that, but he has also spent the last two centuries making sure he wouldn't be betrothed to anyone. It kind of ruins his whole "faking his death and pretending to be his own son" ruse, after all. But he can't explain that to you, can he?

"No ravkan king would ever betroth their child to a Grisha, your Highness. Not when all over the country highborn children are still drowned in lakes and bathtubs as soon as they show their abilities." The words come out harsher than originally planned, but he doesn't correct himself. "Why are you thinking about this? You've never shown interest in Grisha, me, or the politics surrounding us."

He has to wait almost thirty minutes for an answer to that question. He's gone back to reading, carefully annotating his thoughts and questions, when your voice rings through the carriage once more, almost getting swallowed by the noise of the horses outside.

"At night, when I couldn't sleep, I often asked myself if I had other options. If I could've gotten betrothed to someone else. One of the only men I could think of that were still eligible is... you. And as soon as I realised that, I also noticed that the Darklings have never married someone highborn."

There's something else, he can tell by the way you speak, slow and careful like you're holding something back, but before he can even think to push you the carriage shakes and your face contorts into a pained grimace.

He doesn't have to see the skin hidden by your clothes to know that you're probably covered in bruises and cuts, maybe even some animal bite marks.

You should rest, and he can still interrogate you later, so he slowly nods and returns to his book, his eyes gliding over the paper without absorbing a single word. His mind stays with you.

You start having an easier time moving and walking a week after escaping your betrothed and his family, but you're still visibly keyed up and stressed. Everything scares you, everything wakes your suspicion, everything worries you.

He hears you mutter under your breath sometimes, especially during the late hours of the night and the hours before sunrise, convinced that he must be asleep. He can never quite understand what you're saying, only catching a few words at a time when it happens. You whisper about wolves following your scent, of someone sending you back into the north, of shoving a knife into your neck, deep enough that not even a well trained healer would be able to save you in time.

Your lack of sleep worries him as well. The only times he has seen you truly sleep well were at the beginning of your travels. You almost slept for two days straight, sitting in front of him on his horse, his arms keeping you stable in the saddle, only waking up after he made camp for the night and forced you to drink and eat. Now, the only sleep you get is through small involuntary naps in the carriage, when the exhaustion claims you like it did in those first two days.

The nightmares that wake you as soon as you fall asleep don't help either.

You're petting and brushing the horses while the other Grisha accompanying you fill the water bottles at a nearby river, your only guard being the General himself sitting a few metres away, eyes on the forest surrounding you.

"I was surprised how much I missed you," you say after a while, your attention still fully on the beautiful horses in front of you, carefully brushing the dust and dirt out of their fur in hopes of making them a bit more comfortable, "I missed my brothers, of course, and my friends and servants as well. I missed the gardens of the Grand Palace, the beauty of Os Alta, my own bed. I missed being home and not being scared for my life. But I also missed you a lot more than I thought I would."

You don't look at him, your voice light as if you were talking about the weather.

"I kept thinking about how much time I spend bothering you, how much my own parents brainwashed me into disliking you, and how much you must've suffered because of that. I was a brat before I was sent north, I know that now, and I want to apologize for my behaviour. I can't thank you enough for coming to save me despite everything."

Aleksander is speechless for longer than he would like to admit, starring at you with visible shock on his face. It takes him a while to shake it off, to find the right words to respond to you.

"You were a child for most of it, Your Highness. It would be stupid of me to hold a grudge because of that."

He has held grudges because of less, but you don't need to know that. You're the first member of the Royal Family to actually apologize to him. Sure, you're probably only doing it because he saved you from your betrothed, but he can tell that you genuinely feel bad.

"It wouldn't be. I was a terror as a child and grew up to be a brat."

The Darkling frowns weakly, watching you carefully as you move onto the second horse to brush it.

"I was a brat, and stupid too. I heard the story of Princess Fruzsina a thousand times. I even dug through the archive to read the reports from the Healers. I know everything they did to her. I'm probably the only person alive that actually still knows, since no one ever bothers to read through those documents... and I went north anyway. I betrayed her memory. She begged in her last letter before she was murdered that they could never send another ravkan girl north, and I went anyway."

He shakes his head, responding to your words before he even realises that he opened his mouth. "You did what your parents wanted from you. They were the ones suggesting the betrothal, and they encouraged you to go through with it. If anyone betrayed Fruzsinas' memory, it's them, just like they betrayed you when they suggested the betrothal without educating you on the sensitive political climate in Fjerda and their exact traditions and rules."

"I'm a woman grown, General, and I did research on Fruzsinas murder on my own. I should've done the same with the treatment of women in Fjerda instead of blindly believing my mother when she assured me that the men in the north don't hit their wives anymore. That they wouldn't dare to hurt a girl from a royal family. I'm a stupid little girl, nothing more."

"You believed that your parents would keep you safe instead of selling your life away for a political alliance. You assumed that your family would do what they're supposed to do. That's not a sin, your highness."

"Oh, but it is!" You bite back, eyes finally meeting his. There's anger and hate flickering in your irises, but he knows it's not directed towards him. It's directed towards yourself. A weapon pointed at your own heart and soul instead of his head. "I'm old enough to think for myself, to make my own decisions. People expect it of me, but instead of using my head I follow my mother and father around and copy them in everything, playing the obedient little princess instead of developing a personality and beliefs of my own. It took a man beating me half to death in front of his men to change that, to free me of the shackles I put onto my own wrists and ankles."

Your voice is sharper than a knife, colder than the permafrost up north, and your breathing is getting harsher. Gone is the sumbissive, quiet thing he pulled out of that house in the middle of the night. "I did everything to apease my parents, to be the perfect princess in their eyes, in everyones eyes. I loved what they loved, hated what they hated, and did what they did. And for what? To be sold off like an animal to a slaughterhouse?"

A scoff escapes your lips, an unladylike sound that you would've never let yourself make before. He guesses you stopped caring. There are many unladylike noises that you've probably made while laying in your own blood, cowering from the man who was supposed to protect and cherish you.

"That's what I meant when I said that they will send me back. I had the help of two of the servant girls. They smuggled letters out for me and sent them off to my parents, but no answer ever came. The only reason why I got out is because you somehow knew that something was wrong and wrongfully assumed it was an opportunity for you to gain glory."

He doesn't mention that he knew of your predicament because one of your letters ended up with him on accident, nor does he disrupt you for any other reasons. This is the most you've spoken since he dragged you out of that forsaken house in Djelholm and smuggled you out of the city. It would be insane to cut you off now and risk never hearing of your thoughts and opinions ever again.

"It's ridiculous. Even if a miracle happens and I don't get sent back immediately, they will simply betroth me to someone else from Fjerda, like that's somehow going to fix the years of tension between our countries. I will never be safe again. I will never be allowed to stay here. I will never be free the way I was before all this. I didn't even realise how privileged I was."

There is a way to save you from that fate. Several, actually, but one of them would play right into his hands if he simply played his cards right.

Aleksander suggests it two days before they reach Os Alta while they sit in the carriage.

He doesn't do anything special, doesn't prepare anything or bothers to give a speech. It would be filled with lies and manipulation anyways, and you would probably be able to tell. He hasn't officially accepted your apology for your past behaviours, after all. He just says what he wants you to do, nothing more.

"Marry me."

Your head whips up, attention dragged away from the book you had been reading.

"What?"

He smiles. "Marry me."

The carriage is currently driving through a town, the noise of children playing and people talking filling the silence between you two.

"Why?" You finally ask, suspicion barely hidden in your body language.

He has many reasons to make a suggestion like this, of course. Tying himself to someone, an otkazat'sya no less, is incredibly risky for him, after all. It needs to be thought through carefully, which he has.

Aleksander feels like he has done nothing else other than think since your rescue.

You're popular with the people, ravkas beautiful rose, kind and sweet and obedient. If the commoners found out what happened to you, what your parents knowingly put you through with this betrothal, they would riot in the streets. It would only get worse if they found out that they sent you away from your lover.

The story basically writes itself. It would be easy to plant rumours amongst the merchants and peasants, make them believe that you were in love with him and planned to run off with him, knowing that the king and queen would never allow for your love to flourish. That your parents found out and sent you away for a betrothal to a harsh and violent man as a punishment. That he saved you because he loved you so deeply, marrying you on the road back to the Grand Palace in a small chapel, hoping that the marriage will tie your souls together forever even if he gets killed for disobeying the wishes of the king and queen.

If he does it right he can claim that your father attacked you and that he killed him and the rest of the royal family to defend you, or that Fjerdans assassinated the royal family in revenge for the failed betrothal and that Aleksander somehow managed to save you, placing you on the throne, him right next to you.

He would no longer be General, then, but king consort. Your reputation should be high enough with the otkazat'sya to balance the hatred they have for him out as well. The rose of ravka would never fall for an evil man, after all.

Of course, this plan could backfire horribly. What if you hate him after he slaughters your family? What if you don't want to be queen? What if one of your relatives manages to kill you before he can kill them? He would have to claim the throne through right of conquest, and the people would hate him for it, would turn your family into martyrs and put his Grisha at even more risk.

But the risks might be worth it. He just has to be smart.

And he'd be saving you from an awful marriage. He could be a god husband to you. He could make you happy.

Probably.

Of course, he can't confess these things to you. The best way to force you to participate in his plans is if you don't know that he's planning anything at all.

"They can't send you back if you're married. You'll be mine. I'd be able to hide you away in the Little Palace, just like you wanted."

You make a face, clearly not convinced.

"They'll just order a priest to annul it or kill you to make me a widow and renew the betrothal," you warn.

"Your highness, as much as I respect the swordsmanship of the guards, I sincerely doubt that they would be able to kill me. Besides, I don't think that they would be able to betroth you to a fjerdan man after we consummate the marriage."

The book you've been reading drops to the floor of the carriage with a quiet thump, but you don't even notice that it has left your grasp, your full, undivided attention on him.

You're probably trying to discern if he's serious, and if you should slap him for even suggesting something like this.

"There's a chapel in this town, and a small tavern right next to it," he murmurs after a while, offering his hand to you, "It wouldn't be like the royal wedding you probably dreamed of, but you would be safe. I swear it. I protect what is mine."

He watches you swallow, traces the movement with his gaze, gleeful at the visible effect his proposal has on you. He can see the temptation in your eyes, the battle you're fighting in your head.

Are you willing to go behind your parents' backs to marry him? Are you willing to become the Darklings wife, to carry his children?

You grab his hand slowly, the look in your eyes vulnerable.

His smile widens when his fingers wrap around yours, his hand moving to knock against the wood of the carriage to get it to stop.

[shhh-secret-time]

Kyle Broflovski

26 y.o (He/Him)

Soul Synergy: Written on your palm is what your soulmate is thinking

Headcanons:

☆ Going to college on a full scholarship and with his help from his parents

☆ Still works part time at Tweek Bros Coffee, he wants to earn his own way in life

》 This feeds his caffeine addiction

☆ He still plays basketball, it helps him blow off steam

☆ Has a habit of piling to much on his plate

》 Stan usually has to remind him to take time for himself, forcing him to relax

☆ Probably tried to major in law like his dad but at some point he decided he really hated it

☆ Switches to something like English and General Classes for now.

》 I can see him becoming an Author! (I'm projecting)

☆ He tries to visit home often, holidays, birthdays, and on breaks!

☆ Does everything in his power to NOT talk about school. It's the last thing he wants to think about and he doesn't want to make his mother stress

☆ He and Stan live closer to campus, they went halfsies on an apartment together

》 Kyle cooks -> Stan does the dishes

》 Kyle handles paying rent -> Stan handles the handiwork around the house

☆ Will participate in Stan's board game nights if he has the time

☆ Although he loves D&D night and will not miss a session if he can help it. (I'm projecting)

》 I like to think he eventually becomes a DM the more he takes writing classes. I see those two going hand and hand

☆ He started carrying the lighter when Stan picked up smoking and it's just always been in his pocket

☆ Comes in handy when he smokes weed

》 I don't see him as the kind of guy who buys it or owns a bong/bowl/whatever, but I think he'll smoke if offered. Anything to just relax.

☆ Because of that he always carries an inhaler for Stan. He knows his friend hasn't had an asthma attack since they were kids, but just in case

☆ Also brings little bottles of water, enough for the other three. (Even Cartman if he can convince the guy to even look at water.)

☆ I didn't draw it but he's definitely got an EpiPen for sure.

》 He's the mom friend, I don't know what you expected

☆ Carries his glasses in the case, but he can't keep his glasses clean at all

》 Somehow his phone is immaculate, baffling really

☆ Looks at his palm often, so he started wearing gloves again

》 He gets distracted to easily with it

☆ The font on his palm is golden, looks like ink melting when it changes

☆ The closer his soulmate is to him, the quicker the words change.

》 If he thinks about it too much, he panics because what if he starts thinking something stupid and his soulmate laughs?

》 After a while he stops caring and just accepts that it is what it is.

☆ He's very protective of his hands because of it, often keeping his hands in his pockets if he's not wearing his gloves

》 More like he's protective over his soulmates thoughts.

His hand finds the silver necklace around his neck, the pointed star of David digs into his palm. The blunt ends of each point reminds him to breath. He turns it over a few times, doing the same with the lighter in his pocket.

He catches it out of the corner of his eye, the font on his palm gleams and twists. Running down his pale skin like watercolor does a canvas.

'Kyle! I love you!'

Kyle let's out a little breath, it dissolves into a chuckle. That breath takes the tight feeling in his chest with it. The beautiful font leaves room for a smile.

"I love you too." He whispers to the palm, placing a kiss over the words.

(Here's the blank version! ♡ )

[itsmattchou]

like sweet chocolate ice cream !

pairing: seventeen hyung line x gn!reader warnings: profanity, food mention in juns section, tiger agenda, english isn't my first language!!! genre: fluff synopsis: just cute things the boys do in a relationship notes: part 2 after my first post already got a lot of attention. almost 30 likes on a new account with my first post? thank you so much holy🫶🫶 this is probably my last svt post for now though! but if you're interested in zb1 stuff you might wanna follow hehe

maknae line version

seungcheol - spoils you. seungcheols mission in life is simple: spoiling you rotten. whenever he goes on tour and gets to see other parts of the world, he enters stores solely to find souvenirs for him to bring home to you. whenever he sees something that you might like or something that would look good on you- he buys it. his way of money management basically is only necessities for him, everything for you. but don't worry, he knows money isn't a way to show love, but he still adores you so much that he can't help it. doesn't even care when you tell him that a lil smooch is enough for you. he gives lil smooches AND gifts.

jeonghan -  obviously favors you. he may look like an angel, but you find out soon enough that he actually isn't one. at all. a little devil that enjoys cheating during games and teasing others. but you've got him wrapped around your finger. a simple "han, stop pls" from your side turns him back into an angel. you so obviously get the partner privilege that his members can't help but feel a bit jealous at times: "hyung can you bring me some water?" no he can't. but once you ask him to bring you some water he's already rummaging through the kitchen. he still teases you from time to time- he's still jeonghan, what did you expect?- but it's noticeably less severe as with his members.

joshua - buys you flowers. he very much strikes me as a flower kind of guy. he thinks flowers are gorgeous, but so are you- so he gets the pretty things for his pretty partner. you get me? he also knows that this is cheesy and kind of basic, but he enjoys just gifting you all kinds of flower bouquets to you. he just likes the traditional stuff. as soon as he sees the flowers he gave you recently wilting he's already on his way to the flower shop he's a regular in. the cashier there is incredibly jealous of you.

junhui - prepares breakfast for you. so we all know how jun used to prepare breakfast for the younger members back in the trainee days because he had trouble communicating with them in korean? yeah. jun doesn't have any trouble communicating with you now but he still enjoys preparing your breakfast whenever you spent the night together at his house or yours (or just your shared home bro idk). it's his way to 1) make sure you eat something good and 2) show his appreciation for you. when he first started this habit his meals were pretty basic but not bad. by now his cooking skills improved immensely (shoutout to mingyu).

soonyoung - buys matching items for you two. soonyoungs favorite past time activity is loving you, and he just,,, likes to show it off to everyone else. so prepare for some matching tshirts like "i love my tiger" & "i'm the tiger" (the tiger agenda never ends). as long as it's cheesy, it's perfect for him. soonyoung's bold and so is his love for you. he's not only limited to clothing articles however! matching plushies (tigers), matching mugs, matching phone cases, matching toilet paper (???), everything! he's down bad horrendously holy shit

wonwoo - links your pinkies. wonwoo is a really reserved guy, and so is his way of showing affection. he isn't one for pda and prefers to shower you with affection when it's only the two of you. however, he is definitely in for some hand holding in public. it's subtle, but he can feel you this way and he knows you won't get lost if he's holding onto you. but that one time you randomly linked your pinky with him changed everything; wonwoo became obsessed with it. he finds it absolutely adorable. so now he's always linking pinkies rather than holding your hand, no matter where and when. he enjoys the closeness he feels to you through it.

jihoon - writes songs for you/based on you. yes yes i know, it's basic (but true). his love language is music and his way to truly express himself and his feelings. so there it goes, he produces songs inspired by you and for you for any special occasion. your birthday? here's a song. your anniversary? here's a song. he likes to combine the two things he loves more than anything: music and you. he writes lyrics with you in mind- and if he wants to write another heart breaking song? he'll just imagine you breaking up with him. that's enough pain for him to write another masterpiece.

[aetherdoesthings]

Hi, I wanted to place an order if it's ok with you, I wanted to order a Luffy SunshineX female reader protector Sunshine where the view of the crew is how they see their relationship and how they reacted. Sorry for the Google translate English, English is not my first language

hey! it's alright if english isn't your first language (it's not mine either). apologies in advance if what i write isn't what you had in mind!

forethoughts: yes i'm still sick i literally can't breathe through my nose right now but oh well.

notes: fem!reader

When the Straw Hats brought you on board, they didn’t know what to expect. 

You were a girl Luffy thought was interesting and funny, so he decided to snatch you up and bring you along on his journey.

Unlike the feisty navigator who spent half of her time yelling at the boys for doing something stupid, or the elegant archaeologist who had a love for dark humor, you were different.

In some sense you were the genderbent version of Luffy. Nothing in your head, always smiling and laughing, finding something funny in the stupidest things. 

Because of that, everyday, the Sunny was filled with laughter and joy, as you and Luffy would be playing around and having fun. The crew didn’t think much of it at first; it wasn’t their first time seeing Luffy trying to play with a new crewmate, only this time you would reciprocate Luffy’s energy with your own.

Even though you’d love to goof around and maybe do extreme things, you always had an eye out for Luffy, making sure he wouldn’t do anything life threatening, chiding him later to never do it again.

You always spent your time with Luffy, no matter what. 

That’s why the Straw Hats weren’t too surprised when the two of you announced your relationship one day.

They didn’t think much of it at first, since they were used to the two of you goofing around and making commotion on deck. Rather, they were happy that they were finally clear on where your relationship stood.  

Everything remained the same, nothing really changed. You and Luffy still messed around on the ship, torturing poor Usopp and Chopper, occasionally getting scolded by Nami for knocking something over, but that was all there was. 

“Wait… if Y/N is just Luffy but a girl… does that mean we have to deal with two Luffys now?” Chopper randomly blurted out one day.

Everyone let out a collective groan, realizing that they had another baby they needed to take care of and make sure you’d stay alive.

[phoenixyfriend]

Finally watched Moulin Rouge (2001). I need to specify because I've never seen it before, but I have watched the Broadway version three times live (I kept getting discount tickets).

Below the cut is my liveblog from discord (with two clarifying edits)

Oh this is VERY different

I've seen the Broadway version three times so I'm comparing every little bit to that

I can see why they changed up a few of the details, like removing the 'fake Indian' element of the in-setting musical

Like it tracks for 1899 and all? And it was definitely allowable for 2001? But oof would 2024 audiences have some Big Issues with it, even with the 1899 context

And modifying Toulouse's disability from dwarfism to a more generic permanent limp, even though the dwarfism is more true to history... it does make castingn easier, I suppose, and it's not like casting John Leguizamo and having him 'act' short was all that good of a plan for the '01. Very complicated I guess.

Also. I knew that it was unlikely that Christian would be from Ohio like in the Broadway version, but I did expect English! And yet! They actually let Ewan be Scottish! Nice!

Also the Duke is German?

And so much more pathetic than on Broadway (edited)

Oh this Nini is so much more of a bitch than the one on Broadway

I wonder how all the dancers, who very clearly do sex work, feel about being dragged into a song and dance number about how they can't be trusted

The playing around with frame rates is definitely interesting, but I don't love all the jumpy cuts between shots.

WE DON'T EVEN KNOW THE KILLER'S NAME [edit: did not actually kill]

LIKE Thanks? But. But like. But we don't even know the guy's name. Also jfc did not! Expect! The fucking rape scene

Wait the Duke's not dead?

That's Chocolat? [edit: du Chocolat is a woman in the Broadway version, and a non-plot-relevant member of the Lady Marmalade quartet]

The order of events overall is pretty different from the stage version, too, plus there's that weird preoccupation with Sleeping With The Girl that's not present in the Broadway show (where she's just sleeping with both of them the whole time)

Oh that is some RACISM

THIS IS VERY DIFFERENT

UPSETTING

LINES WERE SWAPPED???

I now feel like I know enough to write that Star Wars/Moulin Rouge thing I keep thinking about

[dropthedemiurge]

So I went to see the Korean version of Angels in America today, and Taevin was amazing, as expected!

I don't feel too good to leave a full review (seriously, going outside in 35 degrees heat should give me a sick leave for work) and it was only Part 1 (3 Acts) so I'll just talk about Taevin briefly, and if anyone's interested in hearing more, I can come up with another post comparing original and Korean versions later...

Anyway, LEE TAEVIN. I was so right to fall into him (the way he acts, but also I'm in love with his voice who knows why). He was very emotional, very bold, captured original Louis so well (and delivered such fast and complicated rants nicely xD) and also - yes, we had gay kiss and implied fucking on stage as well 👀 In Asian country, talking and showing AIDS stories - it felt very unusual but as an outsider to both cultures and histories, I don't have much ground to speak on.

Also of course, some wordplays were lost but some were added, but mostly the translation was sticking to the original almost perfectly (if only I was more fluent in Korean, I could tall about it even better but I'm really glad I watched the original play first so I knew the story and what they were supposed to say (huge thanks to @dragonsareawesome123 for providing me links!). But I could tell the difference where jokes in English were supposed to land and which comedic moments in Korean striked the best instead xD It was fun noticing. But the loudest laugh (twice at that) was during Louis x Guy hookup on street lol (yes I still can't believe I watched Taevin getting "fucked" on stage the guy really chooses the most queer and bold and interesting roles in the beginning of his acting career)

And there were slight changes in decorations and costumes, and I liked some things more than original, but some original moments got lost.

There are two actors for Prior and tbh I went to see the more popular one because everyone said he's been acting in dramas and other cast worked for me but... I didn't get enough tbh x) Like, Yoo Seungho was good and he was also emotional and delivered lines well - but I guess, I just didn't get the Sick Gay Drag Queen vibes as much as in the original xD I mean, man was so toned and had abs! But the actor himself is thin so it can't be helped Ig, Koreans aren't pale :D

Plus, he was supposed to be contrasting to Louis and Joe but he was less flamboyant so I guess that's the only flaw I can point out. I'll go watch second actor in the second part of the play to compare acting between Korean versions and not with western one, it's going to be interesting.

But still, Seungho himself did a good job with acting with his body and emotional delivery, I'm merely comparing to the original play. He was also very sweet when he came out to the fans after the play ^^

Anyway, the rest of the cast was great as well, the explicity from original - in both language and portrayed things - stayed there and only details ended up more smoothed iut (more Asian style?)

The Art hall was almost full on Sunday, which I was surprised to see for such story, and I saw a lot of couples and people in their 30-40s and nobody left mid-break which to me is a good sign xD

That was a nice experience, it was my first time seeing or knowing about Angels in America too, I'm definitely gonna go for Part 2 because that's where the most of the fun is :D

Tagging @doyou000me @non-binarypal7 who were interested in my review (if you watched the original, I can share more about the actual lines and moments xD)

[project-sekai-facts]

out of curiosity, which parts/episodes have the bad localizationing for phoenix? I'm probably going to read the official translation on sekai.best since I don't like using youtube and i wanna know what to expect

here's my main issues with it in brief for now, but i'll probably do a longer post on the topic of ensekai's translations later

Rui: I guess this is what you want to do

first off from chapter 7, rui's observation of Tsukasa's breakdown. this is just weirdly casual and honestly ooc for Rui. as a director, he's observant, and he's trying to understand what tsukasa's going through and what he's trying to do. The fan translation i linked puts this as "As I thought, this is what you're going for", which is far better.

Rui: We should let Tsukasa be right now...

also from chapter 7 literally 4 lines later. while at first this might not seem that bad, and is fitting with the context, i much prefer the fan TL version which puts this as "This is something that Tsukasa needs". Like do you get how much the word "needs" changes this. "We should let him be" is kinda broad all things considered. Like it could mean he needs it, but it could also mean that someone on tiktok or twitter will probably misinterpret it as wandasho not knowing what to do or some other angsty thing like them not being good friends i dunno

Tsukasa: It's because "I" am not strong enough...

Now this. This is a good line. Note the quotations around I. This is very important to Tsukasa's arc in this event of understanding the role of Rio and improving his acting. Note that here, the pronoun used is boku, when Tsukasa uses ore. Boku, or "I" here, refers to Rio, as in, Tsukasa is thinking as Rio. EN drops the quotations completely and translates it flatly as "because i'm powerless". He refers to himself in first person while thinking as Rio for the rest of the scene on EN though, so hopefully there won't be too many misinterpretations (but. you probably know what I'm vagueing about). Pronouns aren't used as frequently in japanese as in english so this is actually the first time he uses boku in this scene, hence the quotes. This is more nitpicky it's just something I thought was pretty cool.

Rui: Did you see that phoenix you were talking about?

one last Rui quote (rui im sorry ensekai can't translate you well). wow 3 out of four quotes here are rui in chapter 7 damn. anyway. the fan translation of this is "Have you finally found your Phoenix" which is SO much better with the context of the rest of the story. tsukasa decides that he needs to "find his phoenix" in order to nail the role, and this is correctly translated aside from this one line, which is arguably one of the most important uses of it. it's not just any phoenix, it's tsukasa's. his personal one, like a resolve of sorts. once again they made rui far too casual and he doesn't sound right.

yeah as i said i'll do something better another time, but he's my main nitpicks and complaints.

[lunarlegend]

okay, i'm working on my Ignis quote thing, and i felt compelled to lay out the raw translations of The Train Scene:

Gladio: "Who do you think you are?"

Noctis: "Huh?"

Gladio: "We're not stopping in Tenebrae. Can't you change?"

Noctis: "I'm riding this train because I changed!"

Gladio: "The guy who's changed isn't even saying a word to the one who's having the most trouble right now."

Noctis: "Let go."

Gladio: "What happened to the Ring? Just going to carry it around? Can you fulfill your responsibility just by looking at what was delivered in exchange for a life?"

Noctis: "I know that!"

Gladio: "I don't understand why Ignis got hurt."

Ignis: "Stop it, Gladio."

Gladio: "Tch...in what world is there such a sloppy king?"

Noctis: "You!!" (note: he uses てめえ here which is pretty much THE rudest way to address someone)

Prompto: "Stop it!"

Noctis: "I understand everything, alright?! Everything!"

Gladio: "If that's the case, then give up, you idiot!"

Prompto: "Noct!"

Gladio: "Leave him!"

--

more notes: i used the raw Japanese text to determine the most accurate translation, because the translations on Spelldaggers are sometimes TOO literal and come out awkwardly worded, and this scene is obviously very important.

this exchange is rough either way, but as i've explained before, both Gladio and Noctis are basically different characters in Japanese, and in the Japanese version, it's warranted. it's also less crude. :/

in the English dub, Gladio accuses Noctis of moping and feeling sorry for himself, tells him to grow up, calls him a coward, and uses the phrase "pull your head outta your ass". lol. none of that is present in the original, surprise surprise.

additionally, JP Noctis is immature, and even bratty at times. he avoids responsibility and expects to be taken care of, because that's all he's ever known. which is fine when the bros are running around making camp in the wilderness, but much different when it's time for Noctis to actually step up and start acting like a king.

Noct's growth throughout the story as he's forced to become independent is part of what makes the Japanese version so satisfying. and Gladio is justified not only for getting frustrated with him along the way, but for pushing him when he doesn't want to be pushed.

[wovenintosilk]

Hii, hope you're doing well!❤ I'm here to ask for a request (if they are open, if not, just ignore this) for Miles (both the spiderman and the prowler). Okay so, the reader (can be female or gn) is best friend with both Mileses(idk how to write names in English in plural, sorry) and in the Earth 42! Miles' (the prowler) she/they died (how optimistic) before he became prowler but, in Spiderman! Miles' universe she's/they're alive. 42!Miles is in love with her/them and very sad 'cause she's/they're dead. The Spiderman! Miles is not in love with them since he met Gwen and fell in love with her. Also, the reader is super - duper smart and she/they help(s) the Spider Society sometimes with technology and etc for money, but it's not a spider person themselves. So, when Miles Spiderman goes to the wrong universe , the reader also goes there and when Miles (spider) wakes up, she wakes up also tied to a beating thing(idk what's it's name) and she's like "Nah, idk, I can't do pretty much without my tech and you took it" and just chill and calm, not caring pretty much about the situation since she/they can't change it (and if u can, please insert a word fight between Miles the prowler and the other Miles, where the prowler is like "She's a very good person, they did so much for both us, and is alive in your universe and still you choose to fall in love with a person who you may not even see again tomorrow and weren't there for you in your worst time?" And the spidey just tries to convince the prowler to let him go to his universe to save his dad) Thanks and sorry for a request this long 😭(and sorry if u didn't understand something, English isn't my first language) ❤❤

CW: References to Death

F!Reader (Use of She/Her Pronouns)

Word Count: 1300

━━━━━━♡♥♡━━━━━━

A haze hung heavily over your eyes, clouded your vision as you tried to wake up and ignore the harsh throbbing at the back of your skull. Had you hit your head on something? You couldn’t even remember what had happened…

You followed Miles home. What he wanted to do had been dangerous and risky and could destroy everything both of you knew.

But it was Miles. All the times he’d had your back, both in and out of this dimension… you couldn’t leave him to fight this kind of battle by himself. After stepping through the portal, you’d only had a short period when you could look around before something hit you.

You flexed your fingers, surprised to find your arms restrained.

Alright. Damage control then. You could feel the leather pressing against your back so that must mean you weren’t tied to a wall or anything like that. A little shuffling revealed that it was movable to maybe a punching bag?

Which meant you should be able to rotate a little if you just adjusted your weight and… there.

The punching bag swung around as you slowly came to see two expressions staring at you – one panicked and uncertain while the other appeared an uncertain mix of neutral and confident.

But both versions were the same person. Miles.

And they both seemed very surprised you’d woken up.

“I didn’t think I would see you here,” you said, forcing your voice to work so you could croak out something and break the silence. “Uh… either of you, I suppose.”

Quick thinking made you aware of a few small problems with your current predicament. Perhaps largest of which you could see in the purple lighting surrounding you. The lair of the prowler and given the clothing choices of the new Miles, one you might know better than you wanted to.

“She’s alive.”

It was said so simply. Without question or thought. Yet it hit like a punch into your stomach as the implications of the words dug much deeper than you expected.

“Am I not meant to be?”

The Miles you didn’t know, shrouded in darkness and purplish-green hues stepped forward to get a clearer look at you. Something unnatural hung in his expression – it worried you how blankly he watched you. “No,” he eventually said. “No, you’re not meant to be alive in this dimension.”

The twisting feeling in your gut got a thousand times worse as you stared at him. What was that supposed to mean. Had you died here?

“Well,” you said. “I don’t think I’m meant to be dead in my dimension so have no plans to change that.”

“Why did you follow me?”

This time, the question came from the Miles you knew. The one who you’d spent countless hours speaking to. Yet he looked at you as though you’d betrayed him by following him through the portal. Maybe he thought you had.

“Nobody else knows where I came,” you explained. “They… they’re too occupied with everything else to waste time on me.”

“You should have stayed where you were safe,” the new Miles said and you felt like a tennis ball with how much you were being spoken to by both. “This dimension isn’t where you’re meant to be.”

“I didn’t really know that,” you complained. “I don’t routinely look at every dimension and see if I’m alive or not in it. All I did was follow Miles.”

“Then he shouldn’t have let you follow.”

Miles looked rather offended at his counterpart’s comment. “I didn’t even know she was going to do that. How was I meant to stop her if I only found out she followed me a few seconds ago?”

“You should pay better attention.”

You couldn’t help but wince at that, feeling almost validated in your own insecurities regarding the lack of consideration provided by Miles most days. Ever since he learned about the other Spidermen, things had felt somewhat strained between the two of you. After all, you couldn’t swing through the city with him or relate to all the secrecy and experiences of the superheroes.

“I have to get home somehow,” your Miles finally said. “Both of us do, alright? If you let us go, we can help save our dad.”

“Your dad. How is she alive?”

“What?”

The new Miles gestured to you and slowly turned to face Miles. “Did you save her?”

“From what?”

“Then she must not have been with you when it happened. Why? What were you doing instead of spending time with her?”

You were starting to get very confused but something else caught your attention. The build-up of Miles’ electricity, flowing steadily from his touch against the chains. He had a plan to escape from this – if only the other him didn’t notice.

“When did it happen?” you asked. “Maybe I can tell you.”

The date he said meant little to nothing to you. It was fairly recent and if you remembered well enough, you didn’t even see Miles that day. You’d meant to but by the time you arrived, he’d already been long gone with –

“You were with Gwen,” you said and then hurried to add. “She’s another… friend of ours.”

“Another friend from a separate dimension.”

Okay, so there was no getting around that. You nodded slowly, trying not to show how sensitive the topic was. You liked Gwen well enough even though she rarely truly socialised with you.

The new Miles scoffed. “So, he abandoned you for somebody new but I don’t see her here. She didn’t follow him.”

The awkward silence he caused nearly made you wince. Gwen’s betrayal still ran deep in Miles and you knew this topic wasn’t a great choice for right now. Still, you needed to keep speaking to maintain the Prowler’s attention so he wouldn’t notice the escape plan.

“Gwen had other things to deal with,” you told him. “And I wasn’t abandoned.”

“Do you believe that?”

You didn’t. But you weren’t exactly going to turn the attention back onto your Miles right now so you gritted your teeth.

“I’m sorry I died here,” you said.

“Obviously. You weren’t meant to. I tried… I don’t understand how it’s fair that you get to be alive in the dimension where another version of me forgets that you exist. And then you’re sent here and he gets angry at you. Strange.”

A break in the façade of the Prowler. For a second, the emotionlessness changed and you saw an actual response to how you felt.

“I’m not angry,” Miles defended himself. “I just need to get home quickly, alright? This is more important –“

“No, it’s not.”

As though a cruel joke in your favour, you saw a flash of something in the new Miles that you’d always wanted from the one you knew. The look of a person who could have once returned your feelings.

And so, you hesitated in speaking and he turned back to your Miles just as an explosion of electricity sent chain links in every dimension.

For a second, you met his eyes and watched him mouth that he’d be back right before he bolted for one of the windows. Glass shattered everywhere as his counterpart shook his head and bolted after him.

You groaned and rested your head against the punching bag, left alone in a warehouse.

The chains loosened around you and you had only a second to react before you landed on the ground. You winced and rolled your shoulders, turned around to find the last person you ever expected to.

“Come on,” Aaron says. “Boy wouldn’t want you to stay here and wait for him.”

You didn’t know which one he was referring to but without many options, you followed him into a harshly different world to the one you grew up in.

[pastrydragon]

Accent, speech pattern and Voice headcanons for the Gotham Rogues.

Riddler

In casual settings, Eddie has a slight New Jersey accent and cusses with the frequency you would expect from that.

He almost always has perfect grammar and has a very impressive vocabulary.

But there are some situations where "Fuck" just does not have a suitable replacement.

When he's going against Batman, The Riddler adopts a more trans Atlantic accent since it goes with his gameshow aesthetic.

Also since a LOT of his schemes are publicly televised he doesn't want to cuss on camera or forget to project his voice.

So adopting a different accent helps his brain remember how to act on camera so he can always appear classy.

Edward's voice is a bit more high and nasally than average, but not to an annoying degree. It's not particularly unique either. So if he remembers so change his voice slightly then he can make a phone call to anywhere and they won't recognize him.

Emotional variations include his accent getting thicker when he's angry or exhausted.

Scarecrow

John has a very rural Georgian accent.

Scarecrow: The Master Of Fear has a rather dramatic way of speaking due to his love of classic literature and poetry.

His years in academia have also left him with a very intellectual and scientific vocabulary.

John speaks with a kind of intensity and eloquence that you'd expect on a stage rather than at the front of a classroom.

A smooth baritone only enhances the effect.

Had he not been a professor, he would have made a killing as a raidio star or television narrator.

John only breaks out Southernisms when he's embarrassed. "Well I never!" "Why I outta-" he also stammers when embarrassed. otherwise his speech patterns don't have noticeable emotional variation except the ones he puts there.

Mad Hatter

Jervis has a strong Bristol accent. Which is an English accent that strongly pronounces R's and tends to slap an L at the end of words that should end in a vowel.

The classic example is Opera'l instead of Opera.

His voice is naturally high and soft, often making him sound much more indulgent toward others than he's actually feeling.

Although he does quote the Alice books often, he does not quote longer passages exactly unless he's having an episode.

The rest of the time he'll change them to fit what's happening or merely reference them.

If he's feeling particularly lucid and cheery, you may not even hear mention of the books at all.

Stress will cause longer more accurate quotes and chip at his lucidity along the way.

His only other emotional variation comes out when he's feeling flirtatious.

Jervis's voice tends to get more breathy and cooing around people he likes. He also goes harder on his R's giving some words a purr like sound.

Harley Quinn

We all know and love our girl Harley's Brooklyn accent.

Honestly I can't make an improvement on the BTAS version so scroll down.

Poison Ivy

Pam has a Virginian accent. It's the kind of southern bell accent you'd associate with Blanche Devereux.

Pair that with a voice like a lounge singer and everything that comes out of her mouth sounds sexy.

Even when she doesn't want it to.

It's actually pretty annoying for her.

Unlike John she uses plenty of southernisms such as "I Reckon" "Over yonder" and of course the venom filled "Bless your heart."

Catwomen

The Miami accent is strong on this women, and it tells you exactly why she moved to Gotham.

You can't wear all black leather in the kind of weather Florida's got.

Miami heat isn't sweet to everyone.

Being a second generation Cuban immigrant, she speaks Spanish fluently and while she speaks both it and English seamlessly she has run into one glitch.

She will occasionally forget whether a turn of phrase was originally English or Spanish.

She called John a dancing skeleton once and no one has let it die. From Esqueleto rumbero- Literally: Dancing skeleton, Meaning: Very thin.

Her actual voice is a pretty standard alto. Like Ed, as long as she disguises her accent she can basically call wherever without being recognized.

Another rogue that hits their R's harder while flirting. But it's less a seductive purr and more an "Oh, I'm being HUNTED" kind of sound to hear.

Bane

Bane is directly from Venezuela and has the accent to match.

His English is phenomenal for someone who's only been speaking it a few years but it's not always perfect.

Whenever he doesn't know or forgets the word for something he'll describe it using other words until the other person figures it out for him.

For example, this interaction between him and Riddler: "I need the office knives." "... I'm sorry, what?" "The office knives, with the holes in the handle." "Hmmm, is the answer perhaps scissors?" "YES! I need the scissors!"

Edward is the grand champion of figuring out what Bane is saying if Catwomen or Music Meister isn't there to translate the word from Spanish.

Bane has a naturally loud and deep voice which can make him sound aggressive even when he's not trying to be. His size doesn't help.

But really he's a very calm and levelheaded person.

If he's actually angry, you'll know it from how quiet deliberate his speech becomes.

A quiet Bane is a dangerous Bane.

Joker

New York accent.

Drops occasional NY phrases but doesn’t mention anything culturally significant to New York unless someone else brings it up.

He doesn't remember what part of New York he's from but if asked he'll say Coney Island.

His jealousy over Eddie growing up in Wildwood is real.

Harley swears up and down he's from Staten Island and anyone familiar with the different New York accents would agree with her.

Joker has a pretty distinct reedy voice that all gothamites will recognize as soon as they hear it.

It gets even higher on the rare occasion he's scared or nervous.

Music Meister

SoCal (Southern California) accent.

This accent is also called Valley Girl.

He's originally from San Diego and spent his early twenties in LA so the accent is thick and locked in.

He moved to the east coast to attempt a Broadway career before turning to villainy and kind of regrets not moving back west first.

He's the first person to complain about cold weather and bad Mexican food when the chance pops up.

But he's gotten too fond of the other rogues to seriously consider leaving.

Even if the Scarecrow keeps smacking him with a newspaper every time he misuses the word "literally".

He automatically starts singing his words when he becomes frightened or incredibly nervous. Which made sense until he revealed he did that even before he got his powers.

Odd.

Killer Croc

Waylon has a thick cajun accent, that along with a naturally growly bass voice can make it difficult for others to understand him.

He prefers speaking French to English and will go out of his way to talk to people he thinks might speak his preferred language.

Jervis, Edward, Victor Fries and Joker speak with him in French when in a one on one conversation. 

Yes Joker speaks French, no he doesn’t remember why or how. He honestly didn’t even know he could until he met Waylon. 

Waylon is incredibly charming and personable once you figure out what he's saying, he's definitely the most well liked rogue among his peers next to Harley.

Emotional variants include getting even more growly when angry and speaking completely in French when distracted.

Penguin

A lot of people say he has an English accent, he doesn’t, never say this in front of him.

The man is WELSH, and he has ruined people’s lives over having his accent confused on particularly difficult days.

He takes great pride in his heritage and being accused of being “English” of all things is one of the quickest ways to sour his mood.

No offense to Mr. Tetch of course, it's the principle of the thing really.

He rarely speaks Welsh these days unless visiting extended family.

He does use the proverb “Deuparth gwaith yw ei ddechrau”(Two-thirds of work is starting), mostly to himself but he’ll use the proverb with others when appropriate.

Emotional variants include his voice getting squawk like when scared. He also laughs like a mad pelican.

Clayface

I forget who came up with this originally and I'm kicking myself for not remembering but I've adopted the head canon that Clayface was an "aging" K-pop/drama star that was on tour in the states when his manager coerced him into trying an experimental cosmetic treatment that turned him into Clayface.

So Clay has a very strong Korean accent and probably speaks the worst English out of all the rogues.

It's passable but he understandably just wasn't expecting to need it this much.

Despite his difficulties he still somehow gains control over the majority of his conversations and seems to exude likability.

He's trained for years to make his voice as soothing and pleasant as possible and he's not going to let being a mud monster ruin his hard work.

Until something triggers his traumatic memories and sends him into a frothing rage full of bubbling curses or a depressive meltdown where he becomes a pile of blubbering goo.

He's totally incomprehensible when he's having either kind of breakdown even to other Korean speakers, honestly HE doesn't even really know what he's saying.

Many of the rogues have hired him to put his acting skills to use in various schemes and Clayface is amazed at all the new voices he can do.

He's also been Music Meister's backup vocalist for a few of his schemes so you know he's legitimately good.

Bookworm

He has a rather general east coast accent.

Until he gets angry and starts cursing in Portuguese.

You'd never guess because he's an ashy fucker and his skin never sees the sun since he spends all his time reading inside, but the guy is mainly indigenous Brazilian.

You might be able to get a clue from his facial features if he wasn't wearing the world's thickest glasses and a hat.

He has near permanent "Library voice" so people often struggle to hear him above everything else that might be going on.

His voice is surprisingly sonorous and captivating when he can be well heard.

Since Arkham doesn't often get new books, fresh literature was fought over until Joker suggested "AudioBookworm" which is just Bookworm reading the new book aloud for everyone.

Until his little used voice gives out a bit at which point Scarecrow or Mad Hatter will step in until the end of the chapter.

Mr. Freeze

Victor has a moderate Icelandic accent.

Riddler and Joker have a competition going to see how many lines from Skyrim they can trick him into saying.

Victor figured it out immediately but plays dumb to this day in order to fuck with them.

He said "Hey, you. You're finally awake." to Edward after he woke up from a nap in the rec room once and Victor will treasure the face that nerd made forever.

Victor has a bit of a "resting bitch voice" he always sounds annoyed.

Unless he's talking to Nora, then he just sounds like a simp.

Not really a voice head canon but he gets hiccups very easily from laughing.

BONUS Nora

Nora is from Belarus so she often got mistaken for having a Russian accent.

But unlike Oswald she rarely cares enough to correct people much less get angry over it.

Nora speaks with great confidence and authority, even when she doesn't necessarily have either.

Her voice definitely broadcasts "Don't even fucking THINK about arguing with me."

The personality and accent get her the nickname "Ice queen" wherever she works.

Which is very unfair, she's a kind and compassionate women!

She's just also right and she should say it.

Nora's voice becomes utterly saccharine around Victor, they're absolutely obnoxious to listen to together.

[tsukiiro]

Final Fantasy VII Rebirth: Gold Saucer date spoilers below

Something I noticed after watching the following part of the scene.

After Cloud asks Tifa about her talking to Aerith, she replies with "Not yet". Then, the camera changes position instead of staying in the same place which I thought was kind of weird. Watching Japanese version of the scene made me think there's more to Cloud's question than meets the eye!

Of course I do think there were multiple reasons why he asked, e.g.:

they're finally alone so he can ask Tifa without anyone interferring and he probably remembers Tifa wanted to keep this between them, as she asked in Nibelheim)

he wanted to break the silence and since he's not the best conversionalist he chose a this topic

But I believe he might have also used the topic to investigate Tifa's feelings. It seems like he wanted to say something since when they got onto the gondola and now he can try to steer the subject towards their bond/relationship.

In English version he says:

Notice how the camera changes position so that when Cloud starts talking about feelings, it shows Tifa in the foreground.

[It can mean lots of different things e.g. us not seeing Tifa's face might be a visual metaphor of "she doesn't want to tell him the real reason for not speaking with Aerith because it'd hurt him and his mental state would get worse". So this camera angle might be a way of telling the audience that there are still some issues between Cloud and Tifa which need to be resolved but it's not the right time to do it now as they can't be 100% honest with each other - Tifa can't share her memories which contradict with those of Cloud's and he can't access his true memories because of what's happening to him due to Sephiroth's control (among other things). But I digress.]

Now, let's take a look at Japanese version.

He says "I wonder if [she] still likes [him]." but since pronouns are not necessary in Japanese language, unless given context, we don't know who's the subject and object of the sentence. If this sentence was taken out of the context and asked out of the blue, you could interpret it as "I wonder if you still like me".

Only after a short moment he adds another sentence to explain what he meant by liking. To translate it literally he says: "Aerith, about Zack". So he provides information about sentence subject (Aerith) and sentence object (Zack).

I know that it's how Japanese people talk and they sometimes add more context after the sentence is formed as if they remembered what they wanted to say. I know there's nothing special about Cloud's way of speaking, but camera work here draws your attention to it, as if it wanted you to think about Cloud's intention behind his words. It also seems like he's expecting some kind of reply and what Tifa replies with doesn't seem to go according to his plan. He looks confused and you could tell there might be plenty other reasons behind it (and I do believe there are like e.g. Cloud who doesn't understand what other reason, beside it being a touchy subject, Tifa might have to not talk with Aerith), but the flow of conversation tells me Cloud wanted to be "subtle" by starting a topic related to love/feelings and it backfired.

I'm not saying he didn't want to know if Tifa told Aerith about his memories related to Zack. Of course he did. But we need to also look at the romantic undertones of the gondola date, especially since Cloud acted as if he wanted to say something to Tifa, which is a nice twist to Tifa's GS date from the original game, where she was the one who tried to confess.

I may be wrong but it's interesting how camera and spoken lines relate to each other and create an opening for various interpretations. It's definitely worth taking a closer look at this scene as it presents Cloud and Tifa's dynamic in different shades and forms.

[moltensmusings]

What do you think about languages? I mean clearly having different voice actors or god forbid the insinuation that any fairy tail character spoke a different language was too much.

Like Latin being something strictly the church speaks or diving deeper into the fact that everyone from Isvan spoke different languages or some characters have heavier accents than others?

Ramble time because I honestly love conceptualizing accents/tones for voices. Honestly just wish I had a better grasp on non English languages and how to craft fictional ones.

Turned out longer than expected.

I want to apologize in advance because my limited knowledge does mean I can't go as in depth with the specifics as I'd like to.

I love the idea of different kingdoms having different languages and them being evolved versions of languages that existed when Zeref was fully mortal. Similar to how Olde English is absolutely not something modern English speakers can understand.

I think the two characters who for sure knew a secondary language would be Juvia and Alzack. I go back and forth with Juvia because I happened to be one of the people who saw enough of the Animax dub for French Juvia to lock into my brain like an old friend. Though I'll admit Slavic Juvia holds a dear place in my heart. Either way Juvia has a heavy accent on her to me and often slips into her native tongue when her emotions are heightened. Alzack I imagine to speak something akin to Spanish. I did base his look slightly on Latinx clothes and little Asuka mimicking her papa in a way almost no one in the guild got is too cute to pass up.

Within the cast itself I think anything created by Zeref is born with a built in understanding of the language his people spoke when he was fully human. Meaning in this case both demons and dragon slayers would have that knowledge. I imagine the language. I think Midian was very clearly based on ancient Greece so for me I imagine characters connected to zeref with a language similar to that. I think Zeref himself would have a decent understanding of languages as they change but ultimately would be most comfortable in his Native tongue. The concept of the dragon slayers meeting him and him slipping into it without them realizing he's speaking a new language because they understand it perfectly is such a fun concept.

In this same train I had actually been playing around with the idea of dragon slayers being incapable of learning to read modern script because of how different it was from their native language but instantly being capable of reading anything written in that Midian language.

Alvarez similarly I think would majority speak in an updated version of the Midian language, meaning anyone trying to go undercover would need a fair bit of understanding of the language.

As for the church: the more I think about it the more I do like the idea of them using latin/a language based on it because it adds even more interest to the lore. In the real world Roman's took and changed so much Greek culture when crafting their myths and Zeref having even more vitriol towards the church and its worship of the gods because he saw his country be pushed out and silence would've been insanely fascinating. I'm someone who struggles not to make organized religions corrupt within my stories so this only makes things more interesting.

I think everyone within the story speaking one language plays into soft fantasy ideas that we see a fair bit in media. Where the author either doesn't want to go through the trouble of working with people to add in language barriers or themselves doesn't know how to craft fictional languages. Though playing around with cultural differences and language clashing in a story provides a lot of opportunities for character depth.

Thank you for the question and I hope this is somewhat what you were searching for!

[planetkiimchi]

celebrating lunar new year | x.dj

chinese title: 过年 (guò nián). read the chinese version here!

featuring: childhood friend!xiaojun x hendery’s younger sister!reader (all dialogue is in cantonese)

summary — xiao dejun completely lost contact with you, his first love, when he moved to korea to become a trainee. this year, he's back in china to receive an award, and he sends a red packet to you with your brother as a messenger, with a note inside telling you where to meet him. when you see him again, you realise nothing and everything has changed, all at once.

word count: 1556 words

author's note: happy lunar new year! this is my first time writing a piece in chinese (the piece was originally written in chinese and then translated to english), so if there are any weird grammar quirks please forgive me 🙏 wishing you good health and smooth sailing ahead! 🧧

note 2: also this was based off the tencent entertainment awards but i realised uhh hendery wasn’t there ?? it was winwin all along ?? anyway no way im changing this after writing it so pretend hendery was there instead of ww

if you liked it, REBLOG it.

The door creaks open, and you hear someone carefully locking it, and the sound of shoes shuffling on the floor. It's already midnight, how could there be guests coming over? you wonder. You get out of your bedroom, and see that the "guest" is, as a matter of fact, your beloved brother.

"You're finally home!" you cry out, collapsing into your older brother's arms in unspeakable happiness. Hendery has left China to be an idol for more than eight years now, and besides Lunar New Year, he's usually too busy with work to come home to visit. Due to the COVID-19 pandemic, the last time he came back to China was three years ago.

He rubs your back comfortingly, ruffling your hair. "Bet you weren't expecting me, huh?"

You nod. "Did you tell Ba and Ma that you were coming home? If they had known, they definitely would have insisted on fetching you from the airport."

Hendery smiles softly. "Yeah, I knew they'd do that, so I didn't tell them. I was planning to give them a surprise this time."

Watching his familiar expression, you find that you've missed your brother. You've missed his mischievous, laugh-inducing antics, and the times when he's nicer to you as well. You really wish he could stay a little longer.

"Actually..." Hendery hesitates for a bit, and you feel your heart plummet from the top floor of the building as you watch him anxiously. What on earth could have made him come home so suddenly, at such a late hour?

"Actually, I have to leave again quite early tomorrow morning. There's no way I can come with you to visit our relatives. I've been very busy with work lately, and this time, I'm in China to receive an award, not for a holiday. Tell Ba and Ma 'Happy New Year' for me, okay?"

You can't hide your disappointment, and a few tears silently roll down your cheeks.

"Okay," you say, nodding your head determinedly. Hendery has come home, this in itself is a good thing, you tell yourself. Don't cry!

Hendery hugs you tightly. "I'll sleep in the living room tonight. If you don't see me in the morning, you'll know I've left for work."

"Then... when will you come back again?"

"I don't know yet. But I promise I'll come back to visit you as soon as possible, alright?"

You raise your pinky finger. "Promise?"

He nods assuredly, hooking his pinky with yours. "Promise."

—

The next day, you wake up early on purpose. At 3.30 am in the morning, you blink the sleep away from your eyes, slowly sitting up in your bed. Your bedroom is as dark as ink, without a single sliver of light. You hear a sound coming from outside your door, informing you that your brother has just awoken as well. You quickly get dressed, getting out of your room.

Hendery doesn't dare to use the flashlight on his phone to shine light on his luggage as he rummages through it, clearly looking for something.

"What are you looking for?" you ask curiously.

"My toothbrush, of course! What else could I be looking for?"

You sigh in exasperation. "Men." You kneel down next to him, turning his shoulders towards the toilet as you suggest that he goes to change first. At the same time, you'll help him look for his toothbrush, and he can just use the toothpaste you have in your house.

"Sure." With this singular syllable, Hendery takes his clothes to the toilet to get changed.

You roll your eyes, and easily find Hendery’s toothbrush in his luggage. After he’s brushed his teeth, he runs his hand through his hair, smoothing it down. He’s packed his things and is ready to go when his eyes widen, having just remembered something.

“Oh, right, Dejun said to give you this.” Hendery hands you a red packet. “I told him not to, but he insisted, so I have no choice but to give you one as well.” He places yet another red packet on your palm.

“Okay. Please thank him for me.”

“Then… Wishing you good health and success. Take care of yourself, you hear me?”

“You too,” you tell him. It’s always been Hendery that doesn’t sleep enough, yet he’s always the one reminding you to take care of yourself whenever he sees you. Hendery doesn’t know how to take care of himself, but he cares for everyone else without fail.

Once he’s left, you impatiently open the red packet. But what interests you isn’t the sum of money inside it, rather, it’s the note that’s left inside the red packet. Seeing the neat, even script, you immediately recognise it as Dejun’s handwriting. Your name is written on one side of the paper, and there’s writing on the other side.

I’m finally back in China. Missed me? Hendery said he’d give this red packet to you, so I believe today should be the day we’re receiving a prize. I’d like to invite you to come. The address is written below. If anyone asks, probably my manager, tell him I was the one that invited you. See you soon!

You hesitate for a second, but the decision isn’t hard to make. There can’t be any unimaginable consequences, anyway, right?

—

You’ve never known what regret is. Your entire life is built upon decisions you’ve made by yourself, and your brother has always told you not to regret your choices. If you regret something that you’ve done before, then you shouldn’t have done it in the first place. You’ve lived by these words ever since he first said them to you.

But when you see Dejun again after all those years, you think you finally know what the word “regret” entails.

He’s taller than you, and he’s grown more muscular as well. Despite this, his resplendent smile and mellifluous voice hasn’t changed at all. Your name falls from his lips, full of questions, fear buried in the dulcet tones of his voice.

You freeze, staring at him blankly. When you’ve recovered, you smile tentatively, trying to dissipate the tension in the air. “Dejun-kor.”

“Happy New Year,” he offers.

“You too.”

“Long time no see, you’ve changed plenty.”

“Long time no see. You… haven’t changed one bit.” His cheeks flush at your words, eyes lighting up, and he takes two large steps towards you, enveloping you in a warm embrace.

Suddenly, you see Hendery’s silhouette. You push Dejun away, as if scalded by his touch.

“Little fool! What are you doing here?” You cast a frantic glance at Dejun, mouth opening and closing like a fish in water, but no sound escapes your lips. How should you explain this? 

“I asked her to come.” Dejun’s words turn Hendery’s attention from you to himself, and Hendery’s gaze turns from amused to stormy.

He roughly grabs Dejun by the collar. Dejun flails in his grasp, fighting to pry himself from Hendery’s strong grasp. “What are you doing? It’s not like that! I just invited to come watch our awards ceremony. I didn’t do anything to her!”

Hendery’s expression remains upset, steam billowing from his ears, but he lets go of Dejun. He doesn’t even look at you when he asks, “Is he telling the truth?”

“Yes. You shouldn’t make a racket here, there’re too many people around. Why don’t you talk it out without fighting?” You try to suggest.

Hendery takes a deep, long breath. He glares at Dejun, spitting out the words, “Fine. Go on, what were you trying to do?”

“I just wanted to see her again. She may be your sister, but she was—is—also my friend. Since none of us is spending the new year with our family, I wanted to at least spend it with someone aside from just ourselves. Is there anything wrong with me inviting her to come watch us?”

Hendery may be rash and hot-tempered, but he’s not unreasonable. He knows that what Dejun is saying makes sense, so he says nothing, storming off unhappily. Dejun turns towards you with a sheepish look on his face, about to apologise, when you cut him off.

You pat his shoulder comfortingly, saying, “It’s not your fault. Hendery’s just like that.” Before he can respond, you catch sight of Kun’s outstretched hand, and take it, introducing yourself.

“Sorry, we have to rush off. It’s almost our turn to go onstage. See you later!” He says, and you wave at their disappearing backs.

—

When you woke up that morning, you never would have thought that today would go the way that it went. You were so grateful that you were able to meet Xiaojun and Kun, not to mention being able to have a reunion dinner with them. Sitting in front of that table, watching them crack unintentional jokes as they happily ate their food, you found that you enjoyed it very much.

Kun was the first to stand and say goodbye to you, followed by your brother. Dejun was last, holding you close to him as he whispered in your ear. “When I saw that you had come, I felt indescribably happy. If there’s ever a chance, I’d really like to spend another Lunar New Year with you.”

His words rendered you speechless, unable to do anything but tightly hug him, whispering “thank you” over and over again.

if you liked it, REBLOG it.

[snootlestheangel]

COD AU Ideas

Yup, just a big list of AU ideas I've had rattlin' around in the ole brain. I may not ever get around to doing something with most of these. Some might be very thought out and others a simple sentence of a concept. These are all my concepts, so have the expectation that these will eventually become my fics.

I'm unsure right now if any of these will turn into actual works, cause goodness knows I already have too much on my plate right now, BUT for the most part, what I put here is/will be what to expect if I actually do something with them. In other words, these will serve as "fic descriptions" but just for fics that may never come to be.

The first one I didn't include a "fic" description just cause it's such a niche AU and I really want to inspire others to write their own stuff for it. So please let me know if you want my idea for the work!

Anyways, here's some brain rot!

Prison Break AU

SoapGhost AU where they're both in prison and plan an escape together. Based simply on the idea of "We escaped prison together, and oops we fell in love along the way". SO MUCH angst potential, so much comedy potential, so much potential!!!!

I'll definitely do something with it one day, but we don't have any of these bad boys (that I'm aware of) so please ask me/tag me if you want to write a Prison Break/Prison AU of our boys!!! Like, a Prison AU is a phenomenal idea why have I not heard of anything like this existing already???

Cryptid Hunters AU

AU in which Task Force 141 is actually an entire section of the modern military dedicated to controlling/monitoring the cryptid/monster populations of the world. Sometimes this means killing really rare/dangerous ones. Would contain PriceNik (subject to change into including Graves), SoapGhost, GazAlex.

It's the 141 boys just hunting cryptids with the help of Shadow Company (the North American version), Kate Laswell, and a few others. *honestly not my favorite AU, most likely to be forgotten about*

Cryptid Hunters AU but a bit to the left

Same concept as before but Ghost is a cryptid himself. Ghost still acts like a normal dude, and is a part of the 141 because they're actually super helpful for him, as a powerful cryptid-most-likely-ancient-deity. Helpful because they remove competition/keep most cryptids under check. But not helpful cause they stress him out, they want to find The Ghost and put "it" down cause it's apparently super dangerous.

He's a modern cryptid, meaning stories about his cryptid-self are recent (last like 20 years), which makes him that much more terrifying. He's actually one of the most notorious English cryptids; known for his abilities to phase in and out of shadows, creating pillars of solidified black sand, changing his size from massive to incredibly small, and causing incredibly vivid hallucinations of deceased loved ones. He earned the name Ghost cause of those hallucinations and how he often appears like the ghost of a person long deceased. Cue SoapGhost happening and lots of angst potential with that. Also so much comedy cause they're all like "Damn Ghost was spotted again" and he has to act surprised by what they find when they investigate the area. Soap openly defending the entity of Ghost by saying that he's "never killed anyone! 'Sides we should study him and learn about him! He's probably the only one of his kind, ya know!" Ghost falling in love with the strange little human that looks in awe at the massive structures Ghost makes with his crystalized black sand. Ghost intentionally making them more intricate as time goes on, letting himself get spotted in his full "demonic" form cause the excitement and borderline insane curiosity on Soap's face is always worth it. Now this?? This is good shit that I really want to write now

Soap is a Healer AU

Can't think of a good concise thing to call this AU so lemme explain! Soap who is part of a small percentage of people that possess unique abilities. Their designed to "heal souls" so to speak. People with lots of baggage in their lives often seek out the comfort of these "healers" because they can genuinely help them "heal" from all of this. Part of this means helping them move on from the loss of loved ones, like friends and family, or even pets. This means they can see ghosts of people that someone is still attached to. It's not the ghosts being attached to the people, it's the living not wanting to/struggling to move on. Healers can interact with a person's ghost(s) and vice versa, which is often how they help people move on.

Make it SoapGhost though where "Healers" shouldn't be in the military. There's been too many that have gone insane themselves from all the pain and misery they see/feel/experience on a daily basis. Even if they never see a battlefield, they're constantly surrounded by those who have and it's a miserable experience. Healers in these positions often take their own lives because "they couldn't save everyone" and it eventually became incredibly difficult for a Healer to get to where Soap is. But Soap's identity as a Healer is known by like maybe 3 people, Price not included. And he's not got the true "Healer" personality: he's not quite as empathetic and self-sacrificing as people like his mum, so he's doing just fine where he is.

Then he meets Ghost and suddenly all that changes. He suddenly meets someone he knows he needs to "heal" because damn. He sees the Riley family: Ghost's mum, Tommy and Beth, Joseph, and even Roach. Soap slowly winning Ghost over with the help of the Riley family. Soap slowly helping Ghost move on, helping to convince Ghost that Roach is gone, it's okay to love someone else, Ghost realizing Soap is "Healer" and getting upset that he's just "using" Ghost or whatever the fuck, Soap having to convince him that he fell in love with him, not that he's trying to heal him because it's what Soap is, but because he loves him. Soap saying he fell in love when he realized how many years had passed since the Riley family's passing, how unusual it is for people to have such strong "ghosts" after more than 5 years, saying he fell in love because it means Ghost is such a deeply caring, loving person. He fell in love because often times the "ghosts" in a person's life just continue on like nothing happened, and seeing the way they love Simon, seeing the way little Joseph just adores his uncle, everything about Simon Riley made Soap fall in love.

Undercover AU

This one's a GazAlex AU actually!

Literally what it sounds like. The two have to work together as an undercover duo, often times pretending to be a couple, as they help track down a big bad. Lot of flustered Alex caused by Gaz simply ~existing~. So many cliche tropes in this bad boy. The "there was only one bed", the "make out in an alley to avoid getting caught", the "pretending to be married".

Just a lot of Gaz being the coolest, most badass mf-er to exist and Alex trying desperately to keep things "professional" between them and failing miserably. Gaz being confident and using it to make Alex even more flustered cause "heh, he's kinda cute when he's all red and embarrassed". Gaz knowing full well the crisis he's giving Alex like 90% of the time, but not pushing Alex out of his comfort zone cause it's clear Alex likes him but doesn't want to compromise anything about their mission.

So much silly goofy potential with this, but also like some genuine good shit. Also Laswell and Price being older, "wiser" gays just laughing at the two dancing around each other.

Definitely going to be a fic once I finish one of my current WIPs. This either means posting all the YouTuber AU drabbles I have in my drafts or the last 4 chapters of my Left4Dead AU. Probably the latter...

Anyways, feel free to ask questions about these AUs! I'd love to get an excuse to share more of my brain rot!

[tooclosetothestaars]

My theory/analysis on Gregory House

I just finished the show the day before yesterday (it has left me destroyed and in severe emotional pain) and today I remembered a scene and I ended up doing a lot of analyzing and came up with a theory of my own on House. Keep in mind that this is just my theory, and since I'm rarely completely sure about anything, some of the things I say may be wrong or inaccurate, but I think I may be accurate overall. Fun fact, this is my first analysis/theory on a fictional character! Also, English isn't my first language so I apologize if it isn't advanced yet and if I make any mistakes. Let me know what you honestly think in the comments after reading, (like if I forgot to take anything into account or consideration) if you decide to!

So in season 6, episode 13 ("5 to 9") of House, M.D., Cuddy loses it with House and tells him that he doesn't care about his image or reputation (this is just part of what she said). This is the scene I remembered and I first started analyzing thinking that what she said isn't exactly true. I don't believe that House doesn't care about his image. When Cuddy said that, what she meant was what all of us mean when we use that word in the way that she did, she meant a positive image, and that is true, House doesn't care about a positive image, but that doesn't mean he doesn't care about his image at all. House has a negative image/persona, and other than him just being the way he is due to multiple complicated reasons, he's also always trying to actively maintain and cultivate that image, even though deep inside he doesn't want to be the way that he is. Most of us have an image, a persona that we maintain that people know us by and for us it's a positive image that we try to maintain, but for House, it's his negative image. We care about our image and about messing up or looking bad, or showing our negative side, but House cares about maintaining his negative image and fears being open and vulnerable.

He has an image of being arrogant, sarcastic, rude, harsh, selfish, self-centered, misanthropic, etc etc because that's what he intentionally chooses to be because of complicated reasons that stem from his suffering, pain, and unresolved trauma, like to push people away and avoid forming genuine connections, to protect himself from potential hurt or disappointment, to maintain a sense of control of his life and relationships by keeping others at a distance, to protect himself from emotional vulnerability, expectations and responsibilities, etc. It's his defense mechanism. He fears getting hurt or disappointed, he fears openness and vulnerability, he fears letting people in and being emotionally unguarded. He keeps maintaining this image that he has because of these reasons and because it's also incredibly difficult for him to change, or even make the decision to change before trying to, due to several reasons.

House frequently says "people don't change", he doesn't believe people change in the first place, or he actually just tries to convince himself of that as a coping mechanism, until that scene in the finale where he says "I can change". He tries to convince himself that people don't change because if that is true, it means that he also won't and can't change, and therefore he doesn't have to try to or even make the decision to try. He doesn't have to try or decide to heal, grow, actively work on himself, and to take the steps essential to change, because that's what's difficult, that's what takes real work. Staying the same, being his usual self, the way that he is, is easier than deciding to and then actively trying to heal, grow, and become a healthy version of himself. So if that were the case, that people really don't change, he can just give up and not do the hard thing. It's a way for him to cope, to avoid. His resistance to change, despite wanting deep down to be different, and to be happy, is not only because of this, but also because he already has that negative image to maintain that people know him by.

It's also difficult for him to try to change because House doesn't really like change, which is mentioned in the show a few times. And it's because people already know him by the negative image he actively cultivates, they already know him as an asshole, as someone incredibly rude, arrogant, selfish, miserable, insensitive, unempathetic, and sarcastic (also extremely intelligent but that isn't really relevant here), etc, so it would be difficult and uncomfortable for him to start trying to be better than and different from that image, from his usual self with the people who know him, to try to change, just like it also is for many of us to try and be better than and/or different from our usual selves, the already 'normal'/positive image or persona we have and showcase, or to start trying to be our true, authentic selves.

Because that's how people see us, being better than that or worse, like showcasing a negative side/part, or being true and authentic, feels uncomfortable and difficult because we already have a certain image. We are already seen as a certain way by the people who know us or know about how we are, like our families/relatives, friends, colleagues, teachers, classmates, employees, or students, etc etc so being different from that (whether it's better or worse, and better can mean authentic), from our normal self in front of them feels uncomfortable and hard. It's the same for House, except for him it's not a normal/positive image like the rest of us that he finds difficult to change or be better than but a negative one.

House has good moments several times in the show where he shows kindness, where he shows empathy, vulnerability, some openness when it's needed. He has those rare moments where he acts 'out of character', where he acts differently from his usual self because it's needed, but then we see him go back to being his usual self, he goes back to maintaining that image he has. And in those moments we can also see that it's difficult and uncomfortable for him to be that way, to be different from how he always is, to show some vulnerability or empathy. And it's like that because he's always trying to protect himself, to guard himself emotionally by acting the way he does, so it's difficult and uncomfortable for him because he's doing the opposite of what he always does as defense mechanisms and it feels unfamiliar and different from how he usually acts, and because he's being so different from that image he always maintains.

Just because he has a good moment doesn't mean that he will start being that way all the time, that he will start changing. He goes back to his usual self again, his ways to avoid what he fears and to protect himself. We also have bad moments sometimes, moments where our negative side comes out, where we act out of character in front of the people who know us by the persona/image we maintain, or by our old self, but does that mean we begin to act that way from then on? No, most of us go back to being our usual, normal selves and maintaining that image. Some people actively try hard to maintain a very good and positive image, and when a negative side of them comes out in front of the people who know them by that image, they feel uncomfortable, because it's unfamiliar and so different from how they always try to be and from their image. It's like that for House except it's the opposite.

House also has one of his biggest issues, his leg. He has chronic leg pain and he's an addict which makes it even more difficult for him to change, heal, and grow as a person. Addiction can be incredibly hard to get out of, it is especially for House, and his initial reason for taking Vicodin was his immense leg pain, but then his addiction evolves into a complex physical, emotional, and psychological dependence. But as long as his leg pain is there, it's going to make it more difficult for him to get out of his addiction than if he was only dependant on it emotionally and psychologically, or reduce his dosage, which makes it difficult for him to change.

It's also difficult for so many of us to change, for House to change, because of unresolved trauma, pain, and suffering. House's trauma, pain, and emotional scars, his unhealed parts, are a big contributing factor to his resistance to change (among the multiple complex ones). Those are the things that created his defense mechanisms and unhealthy coping strategies, those things are why he is the way he is. All his past childhood experiences have shaped him, just like all of our past childhood experiences have shaped us, and they are the reasons why he is the way he is today and why it's so difficult for him to change. If he doesn't heal from his trauma and pain first, if he doesn't get the help he so desperately needs, how is he going to work on himself? How is he going to become a healthy version of himself? How is he just going to grow, change, and be better? He needs to heal in order to change.

We are all products of our own environment and so is House. Many people go through bad, painful things and suffer but they remain 'good' people, they try to remain kind. Some people go through bad, painful things and they become cruel, harsh, or rude; their trauma/pain changes them in a bad way (not to say it also doesn't change people who remain 'good' in a bad way). House is one of those people (I know he's not real). But just because many people remain good and kind even after going through bad things and trauma, unlike others who don't, doesn't mean that they are healthy and healed. All of our experiences, our childhood, our past, our parents, our environment, everything we've seen, learnt, and been taught are all unique to us and shape us into the people we become. So there can be a lot of complex reasons for one person to remain "good", and for one person to become "bad" after going through trauma and/or suffering.

Most people are 'normal' and nice, like the other characters in the show, but that doesn't mean they are healthy and healed and only House isn't. Just because most of us or the other characters in the show are 'good' and 'normal', just because we try to maintain a positive image, just because we follow the rules and conform, just because we try to fit into society's expectations and standards, and House doesn't, doesn't mean we are all healed and healthy versions of ourselves and just House isn't. Being nice doesn't equate to being healthy/healed. Trying to maintain an image doesn't equate to being healthy/healed. Trying to fit into society's standards and expectations doesn't equate to being healthy/healed. While most of us and the characters in the show except for House may act 'normal' and be nice like everyone else, that doesn't mean we're all healthy and healed. Most of us have not yet become the healthy and healed version of ourselves, a lot of us are still unhealthy, still have unhealed parts. You can be nice and still be an unhealthy and unhealed person. House may be a very unhealthy character, but the other characters aren't all perfect because they act normal. Same goes for us, or real life people.

We can all relate to House on some level, because while we may not be exactly like him, we are also flawed like he is, a lot of us are still unhealthy versions of ourselves, like him. We are not perfect. We can relate to finding it difficult and uncomfortable to change and be 'better' (or 'worse') due to complicated reasons like House. So we can all actually relate to House somewhat, on some level, and understand him due to many reasons, even other than the ones I talked about.

Deep inside, House doesn't want to be the way that he is, he doesn't want to have these defense mechanisms, his unhealthy coping mechanisms, his addiction to/dependence on Vicodin, he doesn't want to push people away and avoid forming genuine connections or love people, he doesn't want to be so rude all the time, he doesn't want to never be vulnerable or express how he feels, express his pain, or never have someone who can help him and understand him. He doesn't want to be miserable and unhappy. He wants to find peace and be happy, he wants to stop being miserable and so lonely, he wants to form genuine connections, he wants a partner, he wants to change. He's just afraid. Afraid of losing his sense of identity, his sense of control of his life and relationships, confronting his own weaknesses, flaws, trauma, and issues, of emotional vulnerability, rejection, letting people in, forming a real romantic connection, being left, getting hurt, disappointed, and/or betrayed, etc.

So this is my theory/analysis and I've said all I wanted to. I know it's extremely long so if you've read this far, wow, thank you. You get cookies 🍪🍪🍪 Let me know what you think.