#because that doesn't sound like it was devised by

[rcmclachlan]

8x06 fix-it fic: Amnion

Buck doesn't bounce back from Tommy the way he did with all his other breakups for reasons he can't articulate or even look at. He thinks of how long it took him to recover from Abby, but even that felt different, because he'd had hope carrying him through most of it. He doesn't have that now.

The worst part is it's bringing everyone else down. It's starting to affect the job, and he can't take any more of Bobby's pity dinner invites or the kid gloves Eddie handles him with. Then one day, Chimney (in an attempt to lighten the mood) asks Buck if he's pregnant, and it awakens some primordial rage in Buck that he never knew he possessed and damn near rips off Chimney's head about it.

But once the blood levels in his adrenaline start rising and he calms down, he starts thinking about it. Before he knows it he's thinking about it day and night, and now that's starting to affect the job more than his heartbreak had been.

Then one night Maddie invites him over to watch trash TV and eat junk food until they can't feel feelings anymore, but instead of the patented Maddie Hug he's expecting, she hands him a First Response test stick the second he walks in the door.

Five minutes later, he comes out of the bathroom pale-faced and dripping tears because there are two lines in the test result window, and Maddie leads him over to the couch where they curl up and cry together. Just like the old days.

Maddie asks if he's going to tell Tommy, but there's no judgment in her voice, like she's behind him no matter what he decides, and Buck tries to make her laugh when he says, "How do you know it's his? I could've been living it up for the last month. New person almost every night. Exploring myself."

She just gives him a Look. Also patented.

Under the weight of her scrutiny, Buck thinks about Tommy's face before he left the loft that night and how ''Buck'' looked and sounded so wrong coming from him. Like the shape of it was so painful he could barely move his mouth around it.

Finally, he shakes his head. His eyes well up with more tears, which feels impossible, because the human body can't possibly produce this much liquid. He's going to drown them both. "I thought... I thought we had a future, Maddie. I really did. I guess I still get one... but only with part of him."

A couple of months pass and Buck's entire world shifts. The 118 have rallied around him in a way that almost feels like they're closing ranks to every other firehouse. Eddie becomes especially protective and devises a 5000-point care plan that makes him twitch if Buck so much as thinks about deviating from it, but he also keeps telling Buck that he needs to tell Tommy about the pregnancy.

"If only to get his family history," Eddie says reasonably, but there's something pleading in his voice every time, like there's so much more under the surface that he's trying to keep under wraps. Like there's more about this that he thinks Tommy should know.

Chimney's in the middle of explaining why he's stealing the cool uncle crown from Buck and sitting pretty on the throne when Buck asks him about it.

"Is there something about Tommy that no one's telling me?"

It trips Chimney up. Literally. He just barely catches himself from going headfirst into the kitchen counter.

Buck's heart starts pounding. "Chim, does he know?"

"No," Chimney says, firm and almost a little offended. "We promised you we wouldn't say anything. But Buck... you should tell him. You should talk to him."

Part of him wants to whip his phone out right then and there and dial Tommy's number. He could do what he did the first time: ask to meet somewhere and laugh about bad coffee and plead his case for a second chance. He could reach across the table for his hand, but this time, he'd stand up and walk over to Tommy and place it on his belly. "I don't care about firsts or lasts," he'd say. "I care about only's. And you're the only one I want."

But the other part of him, still licking its wounds, hormones in flux and forcing organs to shift and bend as it makes room for the thing he and Tommy made together, bares its teeth and snaps, "He made it very clear that he had no interest in hearing what I had to say."

Chimney never brings it up again.

Meanwhile, Hen goes a little overboard with forcing him to undergo random physicals—she pops out of the shadows twice a day to ambush him with the blood pressure machine, and he keeps threatening to avoid rooms that have doors—but he loves it. His body is a complete stranger to him for the first time in a long time, but the changes he's experiencing are interesting and he's having a blast cataloging every new one. He and Hen have a spreadsheet with like fifty tabs, and she helps him navigate every test his actual OBGYN sets him up for.

He's over her house at least once a week, although pregnancy talk at the dinner table is verboten.

"If one of you says the word 'amniocentesis' one more time, I will start a food fight," Karen had said, finally putting her foot down. Across the table, Denny perked up.

As much as he hesitates to even think the Q-word, it's a pretty quiet pregnancy. The cravings are kind of wild, though, and he goes most of his first trimester feeling like he's going to die if he can't eat rice krispie treats with cottage cheese. Every time Bobby sees him cracking open another container of Hood, it looks like he's seriously reconsidering sobriety.

But as incredible as they are about the pregnancy, they're all tiptoeing around the other elephant in the room: when Buck is going to stop working scenes. He and Bobby have a series of discussions that satisfies neither of them and resolves nothing, and it builds to a big blow-out that ends when Bobby tearfully begs Buck to stop risking his own life and the life of Bobby's grandkid.

After that, it's like some stone thing in him dissolves into sand and he finally eases back a bit in his fifth month. He doesn't put up a fight when Bobby orders him to only handle the winch or stick with hose duty, and if he stays a little closer to the engine because he gets winded so easily these days, no one comments on it.

In his sixth month, the inevitable happens: there's a call out at Palos Verdes and it's all hands on deck, which means the 217 is there too. At first he thinks he might make it through without running into Tommy at all, but he turns a corner and—there he is. Smudged with mud and looking like a drowned rat because of the downpours, but in his turnouts he's big and capable and, for a second, he's walking into First Presbyterian and apologizing for missing the ceremony.

But the memory is easily wrestled back into the past the second Tommy's gaze fixes on Buck's belly.

Buck wants to stage a retreat that would make the Allies at Dunkirk stand up and applaud. He wants to throw his arms open so Tommy can get a better look at it, say something cool and mean, like, "Did you know that INNOTEX makes turnouts for carriers these days? Pretty progressive of them, if you ask me."

He wants to be weak and ask if Tommy will spare him a hug. Just one. Nothing greedy. Just—a moment to soak in his warmth, to inhale the smell of his skin. Enough to carry him through the rest of it.

But he does none of that. He inhales through his nose, lifts his chin, and says, "Firefighter Kinard."

At that, Tommy smiles, and it's completely awful. There's no joy in it. Not even amusement. He looks like he wants to be sick, and Buck feels like a monster.

But Tommy swallows and says, earnest as anything, "Congratulations. I-I knew you'd find it. I never doubted for a second that you'd find the person who'd be your last."

Even as he says it, Tommy's face does something indescribable, but it rips through Buck's chest and shatters his ribs, tearing through pericardial layers until it scores the vulnerable muscle of his heart. It's so shocking that it almost knocks the truth right out of Buck's mouth.

Someone comes over the radio and requests all available first responders with flight experience to report to the B-zone, and Tommy straightens up and locks whatever it was away.

With an unsteady hand, he tips an invisible hat to Buck and says wryly, "Firefighter Buckley," before jogging away.

And Buck stands there like an idiot watching him go. It's that night all over again. It's Buck instead of Evan.

"See you around," he whispers, and then runs back to his post in the A-zone.

+

Tommy gets the call when he's halfway through a burrito foisted upon him by Dana, who had taken one look at him and said, "You look like a flood victim. Eat something before I get HR involved."

He'd taken a mutinous bite and couldn't argue with her. Months later and it still felt like he'd watched everything he loved wash away with a tide he couldn't fight. Except he'd sent the tide himself. He had no business feeling like this.

But they send him to the site of a car accident where a pregnant driver had been T-boned by some asshole who ran the red light, and the RA unit called to the scene didn't have the right equipment to assess the fetus. But the victim's belly was hard enough to warrant a med evac.

By the time Dana gets the victim loaded on the backboard and inside, Tommy's already on with both First Presbyterian and LA General to see whose neonatal surgery team is available.

The door on Tommy's side slides open and Tommy turns in his seat to ask what the hell Dana's doing over there, but it's Hen who's pulling herself inside.

His stomach clenches with dread. "Hen?"

"I'm riding with you," she shouts, taking the headset that Dana gives her.

He looks just beyond her and wishes he'd had the presence of mind to listen to the manifest when Dana had read it aloud to him, because Evan Buckley is strapped to the gurney and looks like he's on a completely different planet.

"Hen." Tommy can't hear him say her name, but he sees Evan's mouth shape the word. Evan reaches clumsily out for her with one hand while pressing the other to his belly.

Hen murmurs something to him that the comms can't pick up, and Tommy wonders if they've notified Maddie, if they've notified the father, whoever they are. If they're already at the hospital waiting for them. If Tommy will have to see them, talk to them face to face.

Tommy bites the inside of his cheek until he feels the hot wash of blood over his tongue, then forces everything down to join the burrito from earlier that really wants to make a reappearance. It isn't his right to know any of it. That went out with the tide, too.

He locks it down tight enough that he gets them into the air so easily they might be a feather on the wind, then he heads in the direction of First Presbyterian. The real start of it all.

They're maybe halfway across the city when Evan shouts, desperation and fear carrying his voice over the rotors, the words sliding together, "Hen, check Nora! Y-Y'need to ch—"

"Nora's fine, Buck," Hen says, her voice clear as a bell in Tommy's ear.

Staring at a skyline he can't see, Tommy says, "'Nora'? Was someone else in the car with him?"

When Hen comes over the comm, her voice is as inescapable as a flood. "Nora's what he decided on for the baby. It's her name."

Tommy's hand tightens on the cyclic so the way it starts shaking won't be so obvious. "Nora was my grandmother's name."

He'd told Buck about the woman who was basically the only family he could stand, who was responsible for not letting him become his piece of shit father, who accepted him when no one else would. She'd meant the world to him. She'd been the world to him. And for Evan to give his kid her name—

Realization hits like a levy breaking, and he turns to look wide-eyed over his shoulder at Hen, because it can't—he couldn't be—

"Patient, male, 33, prenatal course complicated at 8 months gestation," Dispatch had said.

The timeline is right.

Hen stares right back, as good of a confirmation that he could get outside of a DNA test.

Without breaking her gaze, Tommy tells Dana to take over. She gives him an unreadable look but says nothing except, "Copy that," and smoothly resumes their journey while he squeezes into the back. There's hardly any room next to the gurney and his knees are compressing his lungs, but he takes Evan's' hand and stares blankly at the shiner forming around his right eye until Hen breaks the silence.

Why didn't you tell me, he wants to demand, but he knows that if he so much as opens his mouth, he's going to start screaming until someone sedates him.

"For the record," she says, "I hate what you did. I hate what you took from him. But I understand why you did it."

Tommy rolls his lips inward and wants to suffocate himself to death. She understands? Does she? Does she know a life can be obliterated in the span of a minute? Does she know what it is to live a half life, to walk through the world like a five-year old drew a scribble on a blank sheet of paper that was supposed to be a person?

Does she know what Evan looks like when his joy is sucked away? Because Tommy does. She hates what he did? No one hates what he did more than him. No one hates him more than him.

Shakily, he lifts his other hand and touches the tips of his fingers to Evan's birthmark, which used to know the touch of his lips so well that Evan would joke that it was actually in the shape of Tommy's mouth print. Like a brand.

He forces himself to inhale. It seems impossible that Evan's here, carrying their child, their Nora. Evan used to say the lightning strike gave him super powers, made him invincible, and Tommy's ashamed to admit that he almost believed him. It seemed like nothing could ever bring Evan Buckley down, but here he is in Tommy's sky, halfway to Heaven already.

He glances at the LifePAK—where Evan's life has been concentrated into a series of lines and numbers, the reading strong despite everything—and then looks back at Evan, who is still the most beautiful man Tommy has ever seen even now.

"Evan," he chokes out.

There's no answer. At least not from Evan.

Across from him, Hen breathes through her nose and then quietly says, "I'm only going to say this once, Tommy, so I hope you're listening. If you can't trust him to know what his own heart wants, then this flight will never have happened. When he wakes up, you will not have been here. I'll change the manifest myself."

Tommy closes his eyes. Something hot spills down his cheeks.

"I know things haven't been all sunshine and roses for you. Lucy's said you've basically shut down since it ended. I know you're hurting just as much as Buck is... which is why I'm telling you: be sure. He's going to have enough on his plate without worrying about whether or not you're going to swan out of his life again. You need to be sure, Tommy."

Tommy doesn't say anything, but he opens his eyes and holds her gaze without flinching, and he tightens his hold on Evan's hand.

The rest of the flight passes in the kind of silence that feels like a cyst was lanced. Or maybe a boil, as it were.

+

Buck wakes up in stages to find he's in a hospital bed, and when he puts a hand on his belly it's smaller and almost deflated beneath his palm. He is just starting to hyperventilate when suddenly Tommy's there, murmuring to him, "You're okay. Everything's okay, I promise, she's fine. She's fine. Look."

And Buck, heart racing, forces himself to breathe slowly while he follows Tommy's gaze down to the bundle in Tommy's arms. Then he stops breathing altogether.

"She's fine," Tommy says. "A little early, according to the doctor, but absolutely fine."

Buck collapses back to the bed and weeps in relief, because she's fine. She's here and she's fine and she's perfect. Tommy gently places her in Buck's arms before retreating to the chair next to the bed which has a dent in the vinyl in the shape of his ass.

But Buck is enraptured with Nora, who smacks her lips in her sleep, and he marvels aloud, "She has my mouth."

"Thank God for that," Tommy says with a laugh. "It'll help take the focus off my nose. Poor kid."

It hits Buck like lightning that Tommy is here. He's in this room and talking about Nora like—like he knows. And there are things Buck should probably be saying, like apologizing for not telling Tommy about her as soon as he found out, or asking why he's there at all, but the words are crowding in his mouth and he can't figure out which ones should go first.

Tommy's lips twitch in a smile that is awful to look at, like he completely understand Buck's struggle, but his voice is soft and even when he says, "I need you to know that it wasn't about you. Not you personally. It never was."

Buck stops trying to speak and just stares at him, because that is bullshit, and oh, he knows which words should come first, and he opens his mouth to release them into the wild but Tommy holds up a hand.

"I know," he says. "I was a coward and an asshole, and I'm more sorry than I can possibly say. I won't ever be able to make up for what I did. But I need you to know why I did it."

And, in fits and starts before he finally finds the thread, Tommy tells him about Jeremy.

After Tommy ended things with Abby and then finally came out, he dated around for a long time before he met Jeremy, who was brilliant and fun and new. Tommy was the first man Jeremy had ever been with, and Jeremy was the first person Tommy saw a future with. He'd been so sure about Jeremy. He'd believed that Jeremy was it.

Until, almost two years in, Jeremy ended it. He'd sat Tommy down and said kindly, cruelly, "You're amazing, Tom, but you're just the first. You can't be my last." And then he'd left Tommy completely shattered in the rearview.

"That night, when you asked me to move in... it was like I was watching him put on his coat all over again," Tommy says shakily. "But what I felt for you was lightyears beyond anything I felt for him. I'd fallen so hard for you that I knew if I had to watch you walk away I'd never get up again."

Buck stares at Tommy, eyes rimmed red, and says, "So instead you made me watch you walk away."

It must land like a fist because Tommy exhales sharply and hangs his head, bowing around the pain. He sits like that for a moment, absorbing it, before he lifts his head and nods. "Yeah. That's exactly what I did."

There are deep, dark circles under Tommy's eyes that speak of a hundred sleepless nights, and his body is sharper, leaner, trimmed entirely of anything soft. He's made entirely of angles. He's so unfairly hot. He's miserable to look at.

Buck swallows and murmurs, "You look like there's no love in your life, Tommy."

Sucking in a trembling breath, Tommy smiles weakly and sketches a shrug. It looks like the fatigued steel of his edges are starting to crack.

"I left all my love with you that night." His gaze darts down. "Among other things."

Buck looks down at Nora, who's sleeping the sleep of someone already exhausted by existence, or maybe just by her fathers' drama, and thinks that maybe he really has been carrying all his love plus Tommy's around. Because otherwise he has no idea how he's so full of it.

"She's absolutely perfect," Buck says, smiling dopily.

"She's... more than anything I could've ever dreamed of."

He looks up in time to see Tommy drop his gaze to the floor at the same time his shoulders lift and lock like they're bracing for a blow. And in a voice so thin it's barely a sound, Tommy says, "I know I don't have... any right to ask, but is there any... any chance I could be part of her life?"

The tears that have been languishing at the edges of Buck's eyes finally see an opportunity. He doesn't think he could've held them back any longer if he tried.

Mouth trembling, he whispers, "Just hers?"

At that, Tommy looks up, eyes wide, disbelief and hope chasing each other across his face like dogs. He jerks a little in his chair but he doesn't move. He doesn't move.

Buck stares at him, a tsunami pulling everything back from his shoreline, and bites out, "Thomas James Kinard, if you don't get over here and kiss me, I swear to Christ—"

But Tommy's out of the chair and at his bedside, cupping Buck's face and tenderly smearing a kiss over his open mouth, licking the relieved gasp right off Buck's tongue.

Between them, Nora makes a tiny noise, and Tommy startles away just enough that he can press the side of his head to Buck's and gaze down at her with a tremulous smile.

"She really is something, huh? Sorry about the nose, kiddo," he says softly.

Buck knocks their heads together and says, "I happen to love that nose, thanks. And like you said, my lips will help balance it out."

Huffing a laugh, Tommy kisses Buck's lips. And the side of his nose and the bolt of his jaw. Then he leans down and presses a kiss to Nora's little pink and blue hat.

"I'm sure if you are," Tommy murmurs, tilting his chin up so he can flash a brave smile up at Buck, who smiles back.

"I was always sure."

[shanastoryteller]

Happy holidays!! More Fem WWX Mo pls!

a continuation of 52 53 54

He was not brought back to kill Madame Jin.

But perhaps making a clean sweep of it all is simply for the best. He'll have to ask Jiang Yanli what her opinions are about her mother-in-law. He assumes there nothing good.

"Stop looking like that," Jin Guangyao says, somehow without moving his mouth at all and bland smile still in place.

That's a neat trick.

"Look like what? This is just my face," he says then rubs at his nose when Jin Guangyao raises an eyebrow. "Why is she - it's hardly like you're an outlier!"

"Xuanyu-mei," he says mildly, voice low enough that they won't be overheard.

He scowls and crosses his arms. In these robes it has the unfortunate effect of pressing his breasts front and center but he's refusing to acknowledge that.

There's the sound of a scuffle and he glances to see Jingyi attempting to beat an Ouyang disciple with his sleeves and Sizhui putting in a half-hearted effort to stop him. What's that about?

They're going to have to tell Sizhui. He hopes he'll be excited. It'll be quite a bit of an age difference, but he still wants Sizhui to be happy about having a sibling. Or at least not upset about it. Or not upset about it for long, he amends, because Jiang Cheng hadn't exactly been thrilled at first. To be fair, Wei Wuxian hadn't been either.

"You're pouting like a child," Jin Guangyao says. "Can you at least pretend to have some decorum?"

"No," he says, eyes drifting to where his siblings are speaking with the Yu sect leader. How had Uncle Jiang told them about him? From his memory, he thinks that he didn't and just showed up with him one day.

That probably won't work on Sizhui. There are a couple things he might notice.

Uhg he's just gotten used to this body and it's going to start doing new and different things. He hopes this doesn't mess with his core too badly - he's worked hard on it!

"When are you coming back to Gusu?" he asks. That would be an ideal time for him to kill some people, because anyone with half a brain cell is going to suspect Jin Guangyao when Jin Guangshan dies.

Granted, getting him away from the scene of the crime won't do much to alleviate suspicion. It's not like he's not perfectly capable of orchestrating a high profile murder from half a world away, after all.

"When Xichen can devise an excuse, I suppose," he answers, mouth twisting.

Wei Wuxian leans so he can use his stupidly ornate robes as a cover for briefly grasping his forearm.

This whole marriage thing is so stupid and he understands that now in a way he hadn't when he'd first arrived. Mo Xuanyu had killed herself rather than marry and Lan Zhan had been stoic and furious and uninterested.

It was supposed to be Jin Guangyao and Lan Xichen.

Making two of his favorite people miserable for no reason is more than enough reason to kill him, surely. He's done more for less.

[crownmemes]

Mean Sentences, Vol. 7

(Mean sentences from various sources. Adjust phrasing where needed)

"Look at you; relieved you didn't disappoint. That's a weakness."

"It really does suck being you, doesn't it?"

"You're incapable of human connection, so you want everyone to be like you!"

"How did they manage to get so many snobs in one place?"

"I liked you better when you were dying."

"Can I ask you a question? Are you insane or just stupid?"

"You're a collection of impeccable, elaborate masks in orbit of a stunted heart."

"You truly are pathetic."

"I am disappointed. I should have thought that you would have devised something more original."

"Were you born heartless, or did the job make you like this?"

"My professional and personal view is that you are poison."

"I want you to listen to me because I think you've needed to hear this your whole life. You aren't a good person."

"Can you comprehend even for one second that this is not about you?"

"Nobody wanted to work with you. Nobody wants to work with you now."

"Nobody will ever love you in the way he loves me."

"You've got friends?"

"No, I'm not okay, but that doesn't mean I need anything from you."

"I don't care about you. Not anymore."

"You're cute, but you're not that cute."

"You really have no decency, do you?"

"You're a hard, callous bitch! You're just using me!"

"Whatever gave you the impression that I was remotely interested in your private life?"

"Human? You don't deserve to be human."

"Why should I help you? What have the likes of you ever done to help the likes me?"

"I'd call you an idiot again, but at this point I'm starting to doubt whether you understand what I mean by the word."

"Have you any idea how ridiculous you sound?"

"You are a precocious boy who is perhaps ashamed at how much he likes attention."

"I detest you more than you could ever know."

"When have you ever had a lasting relationship?"

"Your ego is astounding."

"Everyone was right; you're not very nice to know."

"You're nothing but a goddamn coward!"

"You're so banal. In fact, you're so banal it's almost a talent!"

"You're a monster, you know that?"

"Your lack of understanding does not obligate me to explain."

"It's hard to find something in a man who rejects people as much as you do, you know that?"

"You don't belong here. You never belonged here."

"You were doing so well. Now you're being simply foolish."

"Don't you ever get tired of hearing yourself talk?"

"Of all the lies people tell themselves, I bet that's the most common."

[boringkate]

I was seeing a girl for a minute who was like a sissy hypno truther. Like it was all she talked about. Fully her special interest. And at first it was cute because like as a fetish that's highly dope. Who amongst us hasn't watched some sissy hypno. Who amongst us doesn't masturbate to the thought of some good boys getting brainwashed.

But it's like how there's a difference between a girl calling you daddy because it gets her off and a girl who's fixated on the fact that she straight up thinks you're her father.

And she always wanted to be clear that she was only into REAL PROVEN SCIENTIFIC hypnosis (if you offhandedly mentioned PMVs or whatever she'd be like THAT'S NOT REAL HYPNOSIS and then five minutes later let it slip that she spends all day watching PMVs), so she'd say stuff like "obviously you can't hypnotize someone into doing something that they don't want to do" (which makes it all sound so much more grounded) only to later say "you can easily hypnotize someone into wanting something" as though the latter doesn't enable the former.

And all of it btw somehow has no implications on the world at large. Like it isn't a fetish thing (DON'T COMPARE IT TO FETISH THINGS), but governments and corporations are simply seemingly unaware of the advanced brainwashing techniques devised by the sissy hypno community.

[sexydreamgirl]

I’m sorry to ask this repetitive question but I am autistic and struggle to understand many basic concepts within the Law of Assumption it's especially harder since most people speak in riddles and I'm not good with those things. I need clarification on a few things; What is imagination and what does it mean to imagine? Must you always be aware of the state that you're entertaining and micromanage your thoughts? How do I ignore the 3D and live in the imagination? Am I supposed to ignore all of my 3D responsibilities and pretend that I'm living my dream life? For example, if I have a test on Thursday and I want to manifest that I don't, should I not study and pretend that I don't have a test? If I remind myself, "Oh, you need to study for your test on Thursday" and I continue to study even though I'm manifesting that I don't have a test, would that be a contradiction and mean that I'm admitting that I don't have my desire? Should I think and act a certain way or continue living my life? There's too much information about what to do and what not to and I'm so confused because I don't understand it and it makes me insane!

Ma vie, it's much simpler than you think it is. Allow me to break it down little by little:

What is imagination and what does it mean to imagine?

Imagination: the faculty or action of forming new ideas, or images or concepts of external objects not present to the senses.

To imagine simply means to devise an idea. Ideas owe their origin to imagination. Before it became reality, everything around you was once merely an idea: the internet, social media apps, technology, electronics, the model of your home, cars, freeways, haircut trends, the design of the clothes you are currently wearing, the very idea of even wearing clothes, art as a whole, it doesn't matter what you point at; EVERYTHING was born from imagination.

Must you always be aware of the state that you're entertaining and micromanage your thoughts?

You make acknowledging your state sound like something you have to be constantly monitoring. You don't have to be monitoring anything. As I'm sure you know, you're always in a state because you are always conscious of being something. Regarding micromanaging your thoughts: NO! Your thoughts indicate your state so if you're thinking against your desired state of consciousness then that means you are not conscious of being who you desire to be, and so you change that via I AM and you persist in it.

How do I ignore the 3D and live in the imagination? Am I supposed to ignore all of my 3D responsibilities and pretend that I'm living my dream life?

Ignoring the 3D is not about pretending it isn't there. It is about not letting it have the last word.

Pretend? NO! Pretend implies that it isn't real, when imagination IS REAL. IMAGINATION IS THE FOUNDATION OF THE WORLD AROUND YOU!

"Whatsoever things are true, whatsoever things are honest, whatsoever things are just, whatsoever things are pure, whatsoever things are lovely, whatsoever things are of good report; if there be any virtue, and if there be any praise, think on these things." - Philippians 4:8

When you live in imagination, you contemplate what you would like to experience and then immerse yourself in the feeling of the wish fulfilled. Accept that invisible state (your dream life) as reality. Then go your way knowing the desire is now yours.

If I remind myself, "Oh, you need to study for your test on Thursday" and I continue to study even though I'm manifesting that I don't have a test, would that be a contradiction and mean that I'm admitting that I don't have my desire? Should I think and act a certain way or continue living my life?

Do what you have to do in your day-to-day life, just remember to bring yourself back to that which you desire to be. Walk as though you were and persist in it. As I said, ignoring the 3D is not about pretending it isn't there. Attending it for a moment will not kill your imaginal act. So you take care of what needs to be taken care of and remember to bring yourself back to your idea if you waver. Accept what you want in imagination. Remember that imagination is the cause and the 3D is the effect.

I hope this cleared up your confusion. As always, if you have further questions you're welcome to send them over <3

[icycoldninja]

Can you do a Sparda boys + V about a gn!reader who flinches at everything, and I mean EVERYTHING. There’s an unexpected noise? They jump. Someone blinks? They recoil. Literally nothing has happened but they’re feeling on edge? They flinch at their own thoughts. (Based on me when my anxiety gets bad. It’s embarrassing, I genuinely start tweaking and it’s because someone sneezed two rooms over or smth)

Aw man, that sounds tough. Hope you're doing well. Enjoy.

Sparda Boys + V x Jittery!Reader headcannons

¤ Dante ¤

-Dante will take advantage of your constant tension by sneaking up on you and going "boo" when you least expect it.

-He knows not to take it too far, though, and stops if you get too frightened or upset.

-He's only trying to lighten the mood, though, and will hurriedly scoop you into his arms, kissing you and squeezing you tight if you get overwhelmed.

-When things go bump in the night, frightening you, he'll be sure to hold you close and occasionally whisper words of comfort to clam you down.

-He might even buy you sound-proof headphones so you don't have to hear weird noises, thus improving your sleep.

-Doesn't shame or make fun of you for it, but he may occasionally pull a minor, lighthearted prank or two. It's just for fun.

■ Vergil ■

-Vergil understands how you feel--there was a time in his youth when he was the same way.

-When he sees you react to random sounds, he will put his arm around you and wordlessly pull you close.

-Occasionally, and that means very, very, rarely, Vergil will cradle you like a baby and rock you back and forth, humming so softly you can barely hear it.

-He will read to you at night, especially during a storm or when there's loud winds outside; his gentle voice extremely comforting and easy to focus on.

-Always wraps you up tightly in blankets like a big burrito so you can feel safe at night and not have to worry about any weird noises. Why would you, anyway? If somebody or something does manage to break in, Vergil will JCE and that'll be the end of it.

-He, too, will buy you noise canceling headphones for you to use when silence and focus is needed the most.

□ Nero □

-Nero doesn't really understand what you're going through, but he tries his best to help you.

-When you freak out at things that don't exist, Nero's there to give you a quick hug and a kiss, telling you everything's alright.

-Puts on music to distract you from everything, including your own thoughts, which somehow scare you.

-At night, Nero will sandwich your head in between thick pillows so once again, the sound is muffled.

-If you still somehow get scared, don't worry, Nero's there to hold you till you calm down.

● V ●

-V doesn't understand why you're so jittery all the time, but he does his best to figure out why and devise ways to help you with it.

-His soothing voice is definitely a boon here; hearing him read poetry helps take your mind off of everything.

-Griffon and Shadow help too--Griffon with his jokes that keep you laughing for hours, and Shadow's big warm body is such a comfort.

-When there are storms or other bad and loud weather, V will simply cuddle you, and might even turn on a movie or something.

-Bedtime stories are a common occurrence too, and are perfect for winding down before going to sleep.

-Should you ever become frightened, V will simply shower you with kisses and words of affirmation till your nerves are put at ease and you fall asleep again.

[ghost-bxrd]

Tim going absolutely feral in his attempts to get Mockingjay away from Hood.

Sure, all of the Bats want to rescue the kid, but they don't really get the danger the kid is in, they are still under the impression Hood cares about keeping the kid safe.

But Tim SAW what Hood is like at the Titans Tower, okay? Hood is freaking insane. Doesn't matter if he cares about the kid or not, he's going to end up hurting, maybe killing, the boy in one of his 'episodes'.

And Tim will do anything to get the kid to come away, to understand what Hood is doing.

He's not going to bother with kid gloves. He's fully willing to scar the kid for life if it means the kid will at least get to live, which he's convinced won't happen if he's left at Hood's mercy.

Tim to Mockingjay on a rooftop: Hi! How's the gang war your boss started coming along? Last one was so exciting. I watched my friend - not a vigilante friend, mind you, just this civilian kid - bleed out when one of the gangs decided to shoot up my school. About two dozen civilians died in the first couple of days. Wanna bet how many you and Hood will bag this time? Have fun!

Tim, tossing Mockingjay crime scene photos of a gang shooting, showing a headshot corpse : Hi! Thought you might like a keepsake! This is Danny, he was eighteen. Dad died, three kids at home, couldn't get any job that paid enough except with these guys. I hear his sister signed up with Penguin's pimps after she got the news. Someone's still gotta feed the kids, right? Have a good lunch!

Tim, waving to Mockingjay: Hi! Sorry I'm late! Had to stay with a kid who found his mom OD'd. You should really ask your boss to show you what an OD death looks like - you'll probably find it pretty cool, all a nice blue shade, with this bloody foam spilling from the mouth, maybe twisted up a bit if they had convulsions first. The kid was crying about how he's gonna get the bastards who sold the stuff, but of course, you and Hood have pretty nice security, right?

Tim waging absolutely ruthless psychological warfare.

Ooo yes Tim would definitely try to pull something like that. What he wouldn’t expect is Mockingjay to give as good as he gets.

After the first few times you can bet Bruce is Fed Up™️ and devises his own little counter attack.

The next time he greets Robin with a merry little “Hey Rob, guess what? Frank just got out of jail again! You know, the guy you locked up in Black Gate for killing his girlfriend? Guess what! He went back to murder her sister, too! Had her spread out all over the apartment with a kitchen knife. Have a nice patrol <3”

Mockingjay, crashing a bust: “Sorry we’re late to the party! Had to take out a pedophile you guys locked up last month but was set free on parole. Guess what? He had two new victims locked up in his basement!”

Mockingjay, cupping his ear: “Sorry, what was that? I can’t hear you over the sound of a two year old screaming because he just saw his dad get murdered in front of him. Because you guys ‘Didn’t have enough evidence’ to get the guy who threatened him convicted. Should we tell Social Services to bill you the lifelong therapy bill or…?”

Mockingjay, throwing a file at Robin’s head: “Hey, Dickhead, remember Tiff? The street kid? Thanks to you sticking her in a “safe foster home” she was forced to go work street corners. Maybe you should tell your boss to do better research.”

Mockingjay is a menace, and if Tim thinks he can guilt trip/horrify the kid into condemning Jason’s work than he’s going to have a rude awakening hehe

[clarisse0o]

Camp Wiegman - Part 3

Lucy Bronze x Ona Batlle

Alternate Universe : Military School

Words : 6k

Masterlist

———————————————————————

Wednesday, October 7; 6:00 AM - Ona and Alexia's Room.

Once again, that damn alarm clock that sounds like a firehouse siren. It never stops. I wonder how I missed it yesterday! I must have been really tired not to hear it. I press my pillow against my ears, which can't take this shrill, repetitive noise anymore. I only release the pressure once it stops. I need to make the effort to get up today if I want to avoid Bronze' wrath a second time. She exhausted me so much yesterday that I slept straight through the imposed curfew. It's been a long time since I had a full night's sleep. I grimace, letting out a groan as I sit up. Damn it!

"Sore muscles?" Alexia mocks, already up.

"More than a little, damn it."

"You'll get used to it, don't worry!"

"I've been hearing that since I got here."

"Because it's true. Hurry up if you don't want even more sore muscles. We only have fifteen minutes to get ready before inspection," she tells me.

"Fifteen minutes?!" I repeat. "Are you kidding me?"

"If only," she laughs.

I think I've never gotten up so fast, realizing my lateness as I see Alexia already freshly dressed and made up. I'm a dead girl if I'm not ready on time. Bronze threatened to make me endure worse than yesterday if that happened, and I'm not sure I can survive it. I rush to the bathroom with the right uniform. Turns out I got sent back from my first class for wearing the "sports uniform." Alexia had warned me, but exhaustion had taken over. As a result, I had to come back to my room to return to class in the proper attire. An awful outfit, by the way. It's composed of my combat boots, black pants, a khaki t-shirt, and my infamous military jacket. I put it all on before doing my makeup and fixing my hair. I now have two little minutes left to make my bed. I almost run to it to finish before her arrival. Alexia is already ready at the foot of her bed while I wrestle with my duvet. I panic, realizing the mess I'm in. I get all mixed up and can't remember the right steps.

"How do you manage to be so quick? Damn it! I can't make this damn bed again!"

I throw the duvet on the floor in a fit of anger. My bed looked like a mess anyway, so showing her my work or this pile is the same.

"Is there a problem, Batlle?"

I jump at the sound of her voice. That's it, I'm screwed. I turn around as slowly as possible to see her behind me. I feel intimidated by her stance, arms crossed, eyebrow raised. Alexia is holding back laughter behind her. I admit if it didn't concern me, I'd find this situation somewhat amusing. But since it does concern me, it's immediately less funny.

"Look at me when I talk to you!"

My eyes automatically return to her. Her sharp tone leaves no choice but to listen. She then turns to Alexia, who immediately stops giggling.

"No problem, Bronze," I reply, emphasizing her name. "Been fishing for information, Batlle?" "So it seems... Isn't Engen supposed to inspect the rooms in the morning?"

I cast my eyes on my informant, none other than Alexia. She doesn't dare move since Bronze looked at her. She's as straight as a rod with her hands clasped behind her back. It's like we're facing our section leader in the army... Almost the case.

"Stop looking at her, you're talking to me!" "Then answer me." "I'm personally in charge of this room while you adapt." "How lucky," I said sarcastically. "You said it," she smiles. "You can go, Putellas."

Alexia thanks her in a barely audible voice and flees the room, abandoning me with the tyrant. Thanks for the support! I fix my gaze on Bronze once the door closes at her request. As much as I want to stand up to her... It's a different story when she's in front of me. She seems cold and confident. It's no wonder everyone is afraid of her. However, I still plan to devise an attack plan against her. I just need to wait for the right moment and regain my strength.

"Well, now that your distraction is outside, will you answer me seriously?" "Why is she allowed to leave and not me?" "Don't dodge my question. You know perfectly well why you're staying here." "I don't want to miss breakfast again!"

"I gave you a pain au chocolat without being obliged, as far as I know. Now, tell me what your problem is. We'll see if you have time to get there."

She annoys me with her insistence on having things her way. She didn't earn her nickname for nothing! I'm no longer used to taking orders. I wait to see if she gives up without an answer, but she remains very patient. I comply, stepping aside to show her the disastrous state of my bed.

"I tried to remake it, but I can't do it anymore," I admitted. "You did it in front of me yesterday."

I relax when I realize she's not angry. She's just trying to understand what's going on. Maybe I'll avoid punishment if I stay honest.

"So, will you explain?"

"I just told you," I growled. "I'm not used to making my bed like this! You can't expect me to get it right overnight! Plus, I panicked because of your damn pressure!"

I realize what I just let slip when I see the little smile forming on her face. Damn it! I didn't want her to know something like that. She now knows she already has an influence over me.

"Alright, let's make a deal."

"I fear the worst," I mumbled.

"Hey, I'm doing this for you, just to be clear."

"Yeah, yeah..." I said unconvincingly.

"I'm willing to show you how to make your bed again so you know how to do it in the future, and you can have your breakfast. In return, we'll meet tonight after your classes."

"For what reason?"

"Do you really think you'll get away with nothing? I warned you that you'd be punished if you weren't ready on time today."

"I'm not gaining much in your proposal!" "You gain my help and your breakfast. That's a lot from me."

In the end, I won't escape this punishment... I weigh the pros and cons, even though the answer should be obvious since, in any case, she won't let me leave without making my bed and receiving my punishment.

"Alright, fine. I'll go with your proposal." "Good. I'll show you this time. Watch carefully and then do it yourself, okay?" "Okay..." "Come closer and observe carefully."

I move forward as she shakes out my duvet, letting it fall onto my bed. Like yesterday, she starts at the corners at the foot of the bed. She takes her time to show me each fold again, making sure I'm following. Once that's done, she smooths the duvet upwards before tucking it neatly under the pillow. She then tucks the excess sides under the mattress, which doesn’t seem to weigh much. I observe the flawless result. She must be well-trained to do it so quickly and perfectly.

"Got it?" "I think so..."

"No, you need to be sure. If you tell me you got it and tomorrow you’re not ready on time, I won’t want to hear any excuses when I punish you."

"You're such a pain," I mutter. "Excuse me?!" "Can I try again before giving you my answer?" "If you want."

I move to undo the bed, but her arm stops me.

"Don’t ever say something like that again. The fact that you even dare to address me informally is too much. Don’t push it too far, or you’ll regret it bitterly. Are we clear?"

"Yeah..." "Yes," she corrects me. "Repeat." "Yes," I growl. "Good," she says, lowering her arm. "Now try again."

I undo the bed in one go, then start from where she began. I try to replicate what she just showed me, starting with one corner, then the other. It's the hardest part. Once done, I smooth it upwards and tuck it under the pillow. I was about to tuck one side, but her voice stops me.

"Pull the duvet more, there are still wrinkles."

"Like this?" I ask, following her instructions.

"A bit more. Don’t hold back. The duvet is too caught at the foot of the bed to come out."

I follow her advice and pull harder. I let go of the duvet once it’s nicely stretched, without any wrinkles.

"Good, now tuck the sides under the mattress."

I do as instructed, starting with my side, then the other. I smile at the result, better than yesterday. I glance at my supervisor on the other side.

"It’s not so hard, is it?"

"No..."

"Do you feel confident you can do it, or do you need another try?"

"I think I'm good."

"Sure? I don’t want to hear any complaints if you’re late because of this tomorrow."

"Yes, I’m sure. I’ll face the consequences."

"Alright, you can go then. We’ll meet after your classes. What time do you finish?"

"Four o'clock, I think."

"Where’s your schedule?"

I point to my desk where it’s pinned to the wall. I don’t know my hours yet, so I keep it in plain sight. She approaches to look at it closely.

"Four o'clock, that's right. See you later." "See you later, Commander."

I give her my best sarcastic smile before leaving my room. I hate the idea of another punishment tonight. It’s not like my lateness was my fault. I just couldn’t make that damn bed! I dread what she has in store for me. I hope it’s not more laps around the field. Apparently, that’s her specialty according to Leah. Well, at least I get my breakfast. I arrive at the buffet, greeting the staff as I serve myself. I’m the last one, but I'm glad to find my precious hot chocolate and morning pastry. I turn towards the room once done. I smile, spotting my roommate and her friends at their table. I quickly join them.

"Oooh, here’s the survivor!" Alba mocks as I arrive.

"Hey," I say, sitting down.

"You've already made a splash since yesterday!" Pina informs me.

"Everyone’s talking about you!" Patri adds. "You’re building quite a reputation!"

"Really? Why?" I ask before taking a bite of my pastry.

"They say you have the guts to stand up to Bronze," Lotte says. "Is it true you address her informally?"

"Maybe," I answer vaguely. "I don’t see what’s so special about it." "We see it very clearly," Alexia mocks. "Did you get away with nothing this morning?" "I have to meet her after my classes." "That smells like punishment!" comments Alba. "It is. She told me." "And you’re not bothered?" "Why would I be? I plan to prepare something much worse for her." "You've got balls," Alexia comments.

I know they think I’m crazy, but I’m not changing my mind. I finish my meal, continuing to chat since we have time. Then we head slowly towards the classroom buildings, with little motivation on my part. I met my first teachers yesterday. They’re all old fogies who aren’t even fifty yet. I’m curious about today's teachers since I was bored to death yesterday. I was on the verge of falling asleep, but Alexia kept me awake by mentioning the words "expulsion" and "Bronze." It seems that behavior like that leads to expulsions, like being late. I wasn’t going to tempt fate after spending my morning with Bronze. Knowing her a bit better, I doubt she’d let something like that slide. She doesn’t seem like someone who appreciates such behavior. Instead, I tried to follow the lesson as best I could. It was difficult, not having been in a classroom for two years. Today, it’s the same. I take my place next to Alexia with a long sigh. I have a feeling today will be as long as yesterday given the new teacher in front of me.

Wednesday, October 7; 4:10 PM - Ona and Alexia's Room.

I was wrong this morning. My day ended up going faster than expected. Maybe because I haven’t seen my supervisor since this morning. It put me in a good mood. At least, as much as I can be here. Adjusting is difficult. There's not much difference from a military camp. It’s likely there’s more

freedom there. I’m happy Alexia is here to brighten my days. She reminds me of my best friend from Barcelona. She’s just as energetic. I'm lucky to have her in my class, even if she’s too serious for my taste. I managed to make her laugh several times today. We got remarks, but nothing alarming enough to stop us. I'm still relieved it’s over. I’m supposed to meet Bronze, but I didn’t get any instructions on where to meet. So I followed Alexia to our room where she wants to finish her homework before joining her friends in the common room. I plan to do the same if Bronze doesn’t show up. She’ll have to find me if she wants to see me. I’m not chasing after her! I have a tiny hope she’s forgotten, but I doubt it. In the meantime, I chat with Ale about our day on the way back. She tells me a story about Patri and Claudia during their chemistry class last year. Apparently, they did an experiment that almost set the school on fire, leading to a summons and a big punishment. I can’t stop laughing with Alexia, who has a knack for making stories funny. She did the same at lunch, and it’s rare for me to laugh so sincerely over so little. My laughter stops abruptly when we open our room door. Damn... My last hopes evaporate seeing Bronze waiting for me, holding my sports uniform.

"It’s about time. Go change," she orders.

I find myself holding my uniform without even having entered my room. Her determination scares me for what’s next. Alexia passes by her, greeting her and making herself small. She confessed to me that she’s afraid of her for some reason and respects her greatly. I understand, but that doesn’t mean I’ll react the same way.

"Please... Not laps again, please! I did everything you asked! It’s not my fault I couldn’t do it." "Already begging, Ona? I thought you were braver than that."

I narrow my eyes at her jab. Not only is she provoking me, but she’s also implying I’m already giving in. I’d make her eat her smug smile if I could! So she’d understand it’s not the case.

"No, I just have a lot of sore muscles because of you," I retort.

-  That mean that your body needed it. Now go change.

-  Damn it, you’re annoying, I grumbled. Promise me you won’t make me do any sports first.

-  Change your tone with me. I haven’t planned any sports, but I might add some to my list if you keep being cheeky. Maybe you’ll understand what it’s like when I really annoy you.

-  Fine, I was just joking, I rolled my eyes.

-  Do I need to drag you by force to make you listen? she threatened me. I sighed as I walked into the bathroom. I envied Alexia, who was sitting on her bed doing her homework. Her encouraging smile was the last thing I saw before closing the door without locking it, as per Bronze’s orders. I tried to hurry, but the muscle soreness made things difficult, especially with my pants. I was curious to find out what I was going to do if I wasn’t running. When I opened the door again, Bronze was waiting with her arms crossed and her foot tapping nervously on the floor.

- Let’s go. Bronze went ahead while I said goodbye to Alexia, who wished me good luck. I followed her through the corridors, putting my hands in my pockets to annoy her a bit.

- So, Bronze, what’s the plan for today? I asked when I caught up with her.

-  Stop being cheeky, I won’t repeat myself. You weren’t so smart-mouthed yesterday, on the field.

-  Me? Cheeky? I laughed. Nonsense!

-  Start by taking your hands out of your pockets.

-  That’s nothing bad!

-  Batlle ! she snapped. When I tell you something, you obey. I took them out, afraid she would follow through on her previous threats. In other circumstances, I wouldn’t have done it, but now I wasn’t sure I could handle another sports session with my aching thighs. At least I had managed to annoy her as I wanted. We entered the gym, making me fear the worst... I hoped she kept her word and that I wouldn’t do any sports. I forced myself to keep up with her quick pace. It was my first time here. Wiegman hadn’t given me a tour, and I hadn’t had any sports yet. She walked down several corridors of the new building before opening one of the many doors in a hallway. She stepped aside to let me enter first. I walked in cautiously, too disturbed by the room. It was a locker room, so what? My supervisor pushed me in the back to make me go faster. It was a new room with benches and hooks lining the right wall. I stopped in the middle, where there was an open frame facing the benches. Damn... I understood our presence here when I saw the state of the communal showers. They were corroded by lime due to extensive use. Bronze had placed cleaning supplies on the floor. I had no more doubts about my punishment tonight.

-  Is this a joke? I blurted out.

-  No sports. Isn’t that what you wanted?

-  Maybe, but not this! I’m not a fucking maid !

-  Too bad, you’ll have to improvise then.

-  Stop messing with me! Is there really nothing else?

-  No, there isn’t. You’re not in a position to negotiate with me, so accept your punishment.

-  Because I will be someday?

-  Start by accepting your punishments and changing your behavior, then we’ll talk about it. She had a cold-bloodedness that impressed me. I gave up, realizing that I was indeed not the one in control of the situation right now.

-  Okay, I resigned. Will you leave me alone?

-  No. I’ll be supervising you to ensure you do your work, but first, we’ll have a talk.

-  About what? I asked, intrigued.

-  Yesterday, you told me you didn’t know the rules, so I’ll explain the most important ones to make it clear. That way, you’ll be warned and won’t have any excuses.

-  Oh, yeah. At least I’ll know why I’m being punished.

- Good, take a seat.

I sat on the bench she pointed to and noticed a whiteboard with bullet points on it that I hadn’t seen before. The writing, which I guessed was hers, was very neat. I was ready to pay attention to the rules. I planned to follow them while scheming my revenge and getting out of this place. The fewer rules I broke, the less she’d be on my back. It would take some effort to comply, based on what I could already see on the board.

-  First, wake-up is at six o’clock, she began, pointing to the first bullet point. You should know that by now.

-  Hard to miss the alarm anyway.

-  Inspection is fifteen minutes later, she continued, ignoring my remark. You must be ready by then, in uniform, and with your bed made perfectly.

-  Is it a disaster if I’m not wearing makeup when you come?

-  No. You’ll have access to your room after your meal. The purpose of the inspection is to see if you’re in uniform and if your room is tidy.

-  Okay, I sighed.

-  A problem?

-  No... I was just wondering why wake-up is so early.

-  Simply to prevent you from being too tired in class.

-  No, actually! I countered. By getting up so early, we’re definitely more tired. She shook her head. It was the first time I appreciated her smile and our conversation. It wasn’t an order or a dispute for once. I almost forgot her cold and unbearable personality.

-  You don’t understand anything.

-  No, indeed, I frowned.

-  Let’s move on to the third rule before the explanations, shall we? I nodded, curious to hear her arguments. For me, six o’clock was not a time to get up. It was way too early, especially after the year I just lived. I had my own schedule.

-  So, curfew is at ten o’clock, but Alexia must have already told you that.

-  Yeah.

-  An instructor can enter the room at any time from that hour to check that you’re asleep.

-  And what if we can’t sleep that early? That was my case the first night.

-  Is that why you didn’t get up the first day?

-  Yeah, I fell asleep around one in the morning.

-  I see. You’ll soon get into the rhythm, don’t worry. What were your usual sleep hours before coming here?

-  Well... I thought. I’d say four o’clock until noon most of the time. She raised an eyebrow at my honesty. She probably didn’t expect that. Understandable. She must have thought I was in school, but that wasn’t the case. I did nothing with my days, so I had my own schedule.

-  You didn’t have classes?

-  No. I stopped studying after high school.

-  How come you’re in the final year then?

-  No idea, I shrugged. I’m where they told me to go.

-  Hmm, she replied skeptically. Let’s get back to the main subject. Wiegman kept her word about the file. She didn’t seem to know the reasons for my presence, given how intrigued she was. However, she didn’t ask any questions. I wouldn’t have answered anyway. This school isn’t going to change me. If my mother thinks so, she’s an idiot.

-  As for my explanation, the curfew ensures eight hours of sleep until six o’clock and prevents you from staying up at impossible hours at night.

-  What difference does it make? We could just wake up later in the morning, and it would be the same.

-  No, it’s not the same. By taking away an hour at night, we restrict your use of electronic devices. You’re more likely to use them at night than in the morning. Besides, you have more time to eat and be together instead of communicating with the outside world.

-  Everything we do at night, we can do in the morning too, I retorted.

-  I assure you, you can’t. Even if that’s the case, it allows you to be fully awake for your classes. You have no excuse for being tired. Explained this way, the schedule seemed great, but I remained skeptical. It’s true that I was more awake in class this morning compared to my high school memories. The problem is, it’s useless if I have teachers who put me to sleep right after. I kept this response to myself, not wanting to get scolded for saying such a thing.

-  Still, six o’clock is way too early.

-  You’ll get used to it. You’ll see, in a week, your previous schedule will be a thing of the past, and you’ll be back on track. Can I continue now?

-  Hmm.

-  Okay, then, no electronic devices outside the rooms, whether it’s a phone, Mac, or any other device, she listed. You should already know this since I haven’t had to reprimand you in two days. Am I wrong?

- I know, yes. Why is it forbidden?

She raised an eyebrow at my question. My participation must have surprised her, or maybe it was just my questions. We were only at the fourth point, and I hadn’t remained silent on any of them. I’m naturally curious. I like to know the why and how.

- Each student is here for specific reasons... Excessive drug use, family problems, or simply

behavioral issues, for example. -

I felt concerned about all the points she just mentioned. It was impressive. Had she already figured me out? It’s very likely, but I don’t see how.

-  The problems are the same for all students?

-  Mostly what I just mentioned. Why?

-  No reason... So, why no devices?

-  The purpose of being here is to solve your problems while continuing your studies. Can you understand that?

-  Hmm.

-  With this rule, we simply forbid all means of communication during the day. The goal is for you to focus on yourself and only yourself, without external pressure. This rule was more understandable than the previous one. I could have responded that I didn’t want help, but I refrained. We would enter a debate that I would surely lose. I simply nodded.

-  If I see you with something like that, I won’t hesitate to confiscate it for an indefinite period. Agreed?

-  Yeah... So, we’re allowed to use them in the room?

-  Yes, of course. This will be a rule to follow. I’m not risking losing my phone. It would mean cutting off communication with Joan and my best friend. "Next rule," she continues. "Show respect to educators," she reads from the board. "By educators, I mean the teachers, instructors, and the rest of the staff. Just because I'm in charge of you doesn’t mean you should disrespect my colleagues." I nod, not knowing what else to say. I'm not going to ask for the reasons behind this rule. "And no lateness will be tolerated. Be on time in the morning, when I give you an appointment, or even in class. Teachers have been instructed not to let you in if you're late. You’ll be sent straight to me."

"And I imagine I’ll have a hard time?"

"You'll find out soon enough if it happens. Also, I want you to behave in class. Don’t be cheeky, don’t fall asleep, and avoid excessive chatting. Try to show interest and participate."

"That’s going to be hard..."

"I'm serious, Ona. I'll be aware of your behavior in class and I’ll step in if it gets out of hand. I'm going to make sure you get through this year."

"Good luck with that."

"At least avoid getting expelled. You’d seriously piss me off if that happens and that won't be good for you."

"OK." She looks at the board one last time, making sure she's covered all the points.

"Well, I’ve said what I needed to say. Outside of class, you have free rein. The only exception is when I ask you to be with me. Is that clear?"

"Yeah, I guess. Wake-up, check-in, curfew, no lateness or disrespect," I summarize. "Perfect. Now, I believe you have a task waiting for you."

She points her thumb at the communal showers. I sigh heavily, having forgotten about that detail amidst everything else.

"Does every sanction mean a punishment?" I ask.

"Exactly. This morning you were late and you talked back to me," she states. "You can try anything behind my back, nothing will escape me."

Leah has taught me a lot about her, including this detail, which doesn’t surprise me. I pick up the sponge lying on the floor with tongs. In the end, I'd rather have yesterday’s punishment. This one is pure humiliation. Especially since Bronze sits on the bench, right in front of the showers to have a perfect view.

"She’s not going to eat you," she comments. "Come on, start, I don’t plan on staying here all night." "You really have no pity." "I’m not here to have pity, Ona."

She takes a book from the bench, which she had probably prepared, and starts reading. I pick up the gloves from the floor since I’m not even allowed to use a mop for cleaning. I put them on and dip the sponge in the soapy water. I start with the stalls, where the lime scale is clearly visible on the matte black glass. I try as best as I can to scrub the top of the first stall with my small stature. I have to jump to reach it. I grumble mentally to avoid giving my supervisor the satisfaction of hearing me complain aloud. I manage to finish two stalls in half an hour. It’s far from perfect, but I want to finish the other eight and the floor as quickly as possible. I’m already exhausted. I take a break to relieve my thighs, which are already aching. Not to mention my arms, given the intensity I’m putting into it. I glance at Bronze, who remains absorbed in her book.

"Stop daydreaming, Ona."

How does she manage to see me without looking up? I sigh and get back to work. If someone had told me one day I’d be on all fours scrubbing the floor of a communal shower, I’d have laughed in their face. I hate Bronze for making me go through this.

"You know, if you followed the rules, I wouldn’t punish you." "Sorry, but rules and I aren’t very good friends," I grumble. "Then you only have yourself to blame for your punishments." "And you too since you’re the one inflicting them on me."

"I’m just doing my job," she replies, closing her book. "Let me tell you something. The less effort you make to follow the rules, the more I’ll be on your back. We can continue like this until the end of the year if necessary."

"What?!"

I straighten up on my knees at this news. I wipe my forehead with my arm, which is dripping with sweat from scrubbing so hard.

"What do you mean, until the end of the year? I was told this was only temporary until I adapted!"

"Not exactly. I’ll be your supervisor until your behavior changes. Given the hothead you are, we’re far from that."

"What a joke!" I spit bitterly, getting back to work. "You’re right, I’m not going to change. I don’t even plan on staying here."

"And where do you plan on going?" she asks, curious.

"Far from this crappy school, far from this town, and especially far from people who won’t leave me alone!"

"That’s going to be complicated. You’re not going anywhere with me." "We’ll see about that. I’m not following your rules, Bronze. I’m not like all those other students."

"You’re not going anywhere. I’ll make sure to help you whether you want it or not. After this experience, I guarantee you won’t be that little daddy’s princess who can do whatever she wants anymore."

"Damn it, you don’t even know me!" I yell, throwing my sponge at her face. "I don’t want your damn help, so leave me alone! It’s precisely people like you I want to get away from!"

I can’t control my anger after she touched the one point she shouldn’t have. Her eyes remain closed from the impact of the sponge. I’ll probably pay for this, but I don’t care. It was the last straw, the one thing not to say. If she wanted to affect me, she succeeded! She slowly opens her eyes.

"Pick it up." "I’m not your dog, damn it!"

I throw the gloves next to the bucket and leave the room to avoid confrontation. She can go to hell with her damn rules! She chases me down the hall, calling my name, but I keep going. I surprisingly find the exit without getting lost. I barely have time to accelerate and touch the handle before I’m pinned against the door roughly. She blocks all my movements with her body and pins my wrists on either side of my head. I struggle with rage, but she perfectly channels my strength.

"Let go of me!" "No. Stop fighting back," she says calmly.

I keep moving as much as I can under her grip, which I hate. She has no right to touch me; I don’t want her to! Yet she tightens her hold to completely stop my movements. I press my forehead against the door, closing my eyes to calm down. I must not have a panic attack here. Once I’ve calmed down, she grabs my arm and drags me back to the locker room. She pushes me inside and locks the door.

"Get back to work. We’ll leave here when I decide," she says, resuming her place.

I don’t understand how she can stay so calm while I’m a volcano on the brink of eruption. If I wasn’t sure before, I now know I hate this girl.

Wednesday, October 7th; 8:05 PM - Ona and Alexia's Room

I slam the door of my room without holding back. I'm relieved to find it empty. We're two hours away from curfew. Alexia must be in the common room with the others. If it's like yesterday, I have about an hour before she returns. I'm feeling really down since my interaction with Bronze. I didn't even go to eat, even though she allowed me to. I just needed to be alone. She drained me physically and mentally. I'm dirty and wet from crawling on the floor. It took me four hours to clean everything. Bronze stopped me at some point. The result was far from perfect, but she seemed satisfied that I finished. Now, I plan to decompress under hot water and get to bed. I find a pj set consisting of a t-shirt and shorts, and then I lock myself in the bathroom. Once my shower is finished, I slip under the covers. I'm exhausted and on edge. I think it's the right time to call my best friend. I've left her without news since my arrival. It was hard to reach her because I was never alone since I got here. Not to mention there's a one-hour time difference with Barcelona. I really need to talk to her right now. I miss her more than I thought. I take my phone from the nightstand and dial her number.

"Hello?" "Hey, Mapi."

"Oh my God, it's about time!" she says on the other end. "I thought they took your phone or something," she quickly replies.

"Sorry for not calling sooner," I chuckle. "Are you okay? Your voice sounds strange."

I'm so emotional and exhausted that I can't hold back the tears running down my cheeks against my will. It had to come out when I was on the phone with the person who knows me best.

"Yes, yes...," I say, wiping my cheeks. "Let's just say my mom really outdid herself this time."

"That bad? You don't like Manchester ? It's supposed to be a beautiful city." "Believe me, there's nothing to envy. It's been raining all the time so far."

"Well, it's definitely not Barcelona ! Come on, tell Auntie Mapi everything. You don't sound well. Is your new school nice?"

"It's a military school, Maps. Well, it's a private school with instructor supervision."

« Ouch, your mom really went all out this time... How did she get you in there? Isn't it supposed to be restricted?"

"The principal is a friend of my mom's," I sigh. "It's hell!"

I pour out the start of my new life to relieve myself. Mapi is like a sister to me. She regularly comes to my house and knows my mom well, who is also her doctor. I know she appreciates her, unlike me, but she always listens attentively when I criticize her, like now. She will always be there for me, and I'll never be grateful enough for everything she does for me. She's pulled me out of the water more than once when I was drowning.

"I have a little soldier on my back. You can't imagine the horror!" "A little soldier?" she laughs. "What's that all about?"

"A supervisor or something until I adapt. I have the worst instructor in the camp, apparently. A real viper! In two days, she's already managed to punish me twice!"

"The great Batlle punished? I would've loved to see that!" she giggles. "Is she at least good- looking?"

Mapi's question doesn't surprise me. From the moment we met, she declared loudly that she was a lesbian. She loves women... I mean she LOVES woman. We met in our first year of high school. She joined my class in the middle of the year and sat next to me. We hit it off immediately, and she quickly started flirting with me. I brushed her off, but I quickly grew attached to her unique personality. Within two months, she had turned all my convictions upside down. She was touchy and insistent. She made me doubt my sexuality. I ended up giving her a chance. It took her two months to become my first and only girlfriend for two years. It was my longest relationship. Today, we're best friends with a very close bond. She's the only one I truly trust. She's my only confidante, and I'm sure she won't judge me. That's why I'm not afraid to tell her what I think at this moment, even though I hate to admit it out loud.

"Brown hair, green eyes, taller than me. She's young and quite charming. I’d say she's twenty-five. She's pretty sexy in her uniform, but her personality ruins everything."

"Wow... She's totally your type!" she teases. "Did you hear the rest? She's a real tyrant! She's making my life impossible, damn it." "Have you thought about a counter-attack?" "Of course, she's going to regret it!" I say, making her laugh.

As I expected, our conversation turns to revenge ideas. Mapi has a wild imagination for this kind of thing. When we've covered everything, we switch to the latest gossip I've missed in Spain. Our call

ends a quarter of an hour later since it's late for her, and she has class tomorrow. I was lucky to reach her so late. Our conversation did me good. She managed to take my mind off things, as I hoped. I put my phone away and decide not to wait for curfew to fall asleep. I turn off all the lights and settle comfortably in my bed so that the door is behind me, to avoid being disturbed by Ale's arrival later. It doesn't take long for me to fall into a deep sleep.

[karvroom]

10 Things I Hate About Katsuki Bakugo

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⇦ 002. Your Overgrown Hatred for Assholes

003. French is the Language of Love

Kirishima was a quiet, but friendly boy who transferred from another school due to his dad's military career. U.A. was going to be the ninth school he's been to in the past ten years.

As a new student, he needed a mentor or someone to give him a tour of the large campus. Sero was assigned to show him around. They quickly became buddies after Sero's break down on the various cliques that occupied the school’s grounds.

Sero noticed Kirishima's aloof demeanor as he came to a stop. His eyes followed the red-head's. From the moment Kirishima saw Mina walking through the halls of U.A., he knew he had to have her. He was head over heels just by observing the way she walked and talked with her friends. Kirishima didn't care what everyone else said about her; she was a conceited, childish girl who would never date because of her father's house rules.

Of course, he was devastated to hear this at first. Alas, Kirishima wasn't one to give up so easily. It wouldn't be manly to allow a woman so stylishly wide-eyed and incredibly attractive to be swooned by a troll such as Kaminari and let him get away with it.

Once Sero mentioned Mina needed a French tutor, he knew that was his way in. Him and Sero devised of a brilliant plan: he would become a tutor for those who needed help in French. No, he didn't know the rich and melodic language , but he was willing to do anything just to grab Mina's attention from the snob, Denki Kaminari.

Kirishima was brought to when a bright red satchel was slammed onto the space next to him. His gaze followed the young lady that swiftly sat in the chair, folding one arm over the other, "Hi. Can we make this quick? Roxanne Corinne and Andrew Jarrett are having an incredibly horrendous public break-up on the quad, again."

"Oh, yeah, um, okay. I thought that we'd, um start with pronunciation, if that's all right with you." Why was he stuttering? Kirishima had never been this nervous before. He played with his fingers, feeling how sweaty his palms were. He felt like she could see right through him as her yellow irises grew.

Mina sighed, slumping her seat from the boredom that hit her, "Not the hacking and gagging and spitting part, please."

"Well, uh, there is an alternative."

"There is?" She smiled at the cloudy suggestion.

"Yeah. French food." Kirishima gulped, looking in every which way but Mina's. His cheeks flashed a color of pink as he continued, "We could eat some together, uh, Saturday night?"

"You're asking me out?" A sweet smile creeped onto Mina's face, revealing her pearly whites. The outer corners of her eyes scrunched together, "That's so cute. What's your name again?"

Kirishima moved his hands under the table, nervously fiddling with his sweaty fingers. He didn't know what he was doing. He was completely winging the entire thing, hoping she would say yes.

The red-head abashedly rubbed the nape of his neck as he stated his name, "Kirishima. Listen, I know that your dad doesn't let you date, but I thought that if it was for French class—"

Mina's face "Oh, wait a minute. Kelvin—"

"Kirishima." He kindly corrected, huffing at Mina's slight mispronunciation of his name.

"My dad just came up with a new rule. I can date when my sister does." Mina chimed, tapping her fingers against the light wood of the table. She kicked her feet beneath the table, glowing at the fact.

"You're kidding." Kirishima's heart began pounding out of his chest. He could hear the rhythmic sound in his ears, as he stared at Mina in absolute awe. He continued, "Let me ask you, do you like sailing? 'Cause I read about this place that rents out boats—"

"A beaucoup problemo, Kirkman. In case you haven't heard, my sister's a particularly hideous breed of loser."

Kirishima swallowed, not even bothering to remediate Mina once more. The lines on his forehead signified his concerns, realizing it wasn't as easy as he had wished to get the girl of his dreams. "Yeah. Yeah, I noticed she's a little antisocial. Why is that?"

"Unsolved mystery." Mina shrugged, her lips tightening into a thin line. "She used to be really popular, and then it was like she got sick of it or something. Theories abound as to why, but I'm pretty sure she's just incapable of human interaction. Plus, she's a bitch."

Kirishima was slightly shocked at how easy it was to get your sister to bad mouth you. He didn't expect it from someone so bubbly. Kirishima especially didn't expect the insults thrown to your name. He thought sisters were supposed to look out for each other, but no, Mina wasn't exactly the biggest fan of you.

"Well, yeah, but I'm sure, you know, that there are lots of guys who wouldn't mind going out with a difficult woman." Kirishima tried shedding some light on the situation, finding it hard to believe you were completely un-dateable. "I mean, you know, people jump out of airplanes and ski off cliffs. It's be like "Extreme Dating"."

"You think you could find someone that extreme?"

Kirishima smiled, realizing a plan was starting to come together, all he had to do was take action. "Yeah, sure, why not?"

"And you'd do that for me?" Mina put a hand on Kirishima's forearm. He thought he might explode in that moment. Suddenly, he felt more ecstatic.

"Hell, yes!" Kirishima shouted louder than he should've in the library, causing a few students to shush him. He shook his head, looking away from Mina as he brought his tone down a few notches, "I mean, you know, I could look into it."

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⇨ 004. An Idiot with Money

taglist🫐 @katsukota @wheezdostuff @honeydwitch @chuugarettes

[dangerpronebuddie]

i wish you would write a fic where eddie in order to get people to stop making him go on dates starts talking about "his crush" to everyone and buck gets jealous not knowing that in reality eddie is talking about him and not some random person no one knows.

Nonnie that's genius! He comes out, and so Pepa decides to try setting him up again. There's that nice boy from her church, her bingo friend's son, etc. but none of them lead anywhere and Eddie is tired of countless dates when what he really wants- who he really wants- isn't an option. Because Buck is still with Tommy.

So, Eddie devises a plan. He tells Pepa he has a crush on someone, and she is of course ecstatic because it's not like he's had many of those in his life. How he feels must be serious if he told her about it. She asks about who this mystery person could be, and Eddie just... describes Buck. Vague enough to keep his identity secret, but specific enough to keep Pepa off his back.

Only word gets back to Buck.

He stopped by Pepa's to fix her sink (because Eddie is absolutely hopeless as a handyman), and while he's working, she tells him everything about Eddie's crush. That ugly green vine starts growing in Buck's chest again, but he doesn't understand it. That was about Tommy... Right?

He keeps a lid on this new information until they get to the station, because he needs a sounding board and a skilled interrogation team. Why hadn't Eddie told him about this crush?

"Hey, Eddie, what would you say your crush's love language is?" Buck asks, sticking to tried and true methods to attract the team's interest.

Hen and Chim immediately flank them, but Eddie isn't even fazed as he answers: "words of affirmation."

Buck's stomach sinks. Eddie has always tried to deflect when it came to his relationships. He knows Ana and Marisol weren't right for him, so he understands why Eddie always avoided Buck's prodding. But now?

Now that vine in his chest curls around his lungs and squeezes enough to prevent him from taking a deep breath.

"Wow, you- you must really like whoever this is," Buck forces out.

"Now that's the question you should be asking," Chim declares. "Who is it?"

Eddie smiles, soft and sweet and... lovestruck. Oh God, Buck's going to be sick.

What kind of fic do you wish I'd write?

[secretpostsposts]

I had a bit of a messed up thought👀

What if Branch found out about their little "sleep secret" but kept quiet about it until he could slide it to the four of them. I just picture the four older brothers waking up with their hands tied at the bottom of the bunker and a Branch in front of them saying,

"Do you all think I'm an idiot?"

Cause like, Branch has gotta be sus! His sleep schedule suddenly and permanently changed out of nowhere? But I love the idea of Branch being equally as unstable as his family,

"Why do you have a secret basement you didn't tell anyone about?"

"Don't worry about it"

He doesn't change out of nowhere, he did it gradually, enough so that Branch won't notice it and when he does he just thinks that maybe he's more at peace with himself (a little, he still has a lot to address).

But oh oh ooooh, when he realizes, when he finds out, he'll be very confused, I don't know if it's possible but he'll go through all the stages of grief, because, why would his brothers drug him, and he'd realize that it's only at dinner for him to sleep.

He devised a plan to find out why, a small part of him believed it was for his health, it wouldn't be the first time they try to give him something for his sleep problems, either he sleeps little or no sleep, he hopes that is the case and that his siblings have a valid reason, betrayal, they have it, but not the one Branch expected.

He managed to skip dinner one night and pretended to be tired enough that his siblings wouldn't be suspicious, and went to bed, nothing happened for at least 1 hour, he was starting to believe it was just his paranoia, when the door opened.

And Floyd came in, sat on the bed next to Branch, and ran his hand through Branch's hair, Branch was turning his back to him, so he didn't see Floyd's face, but he did hear him shutting up the others. Lyego Floyd lay down and started singing a lullaby, Branch was confused and somewhat scared.

"He looks like a baby, because he can't stay like this forever, just like that, calm and innocent" Bruce's voice startled him a little, Floyd hugged him and stroked his head trying to make him sleep

"hehe yes, be so calm, he must be very tired" was Clay this time "what the hell did that silly queen do?" Clay sounded annoyed

"Who cares, if things go on like this Bitty B doesn't need that so-called friend, when he can have us his best and magnificent brothers, who love him and protect him" John Dory's hand stroked his hair "We're the best choice, baby Branch will notice"

If Branch felt sick, he now believes Creek was right about his brothers, and he hates to admit that.

And if maybe I don't think Branch did something so, you can call it drastic??, but I don't think he will attract his brothers and try to beat the truth out of him (although funny series), but yes Branch is almost as emal as his brothers, but not in that way so I see him trying to be smarter so that others realize the truth and when that doesn't work

Well, Branch always has contingency plans (one of them is to run away but that's a last resort, which if it ends up happening)

[serpentface]

Do you conlang? I was wondering if you had naming languages (or possibly even more developed ones) for pulling the words you use. I tried to search your blog but didn't find anything, wouldn't be surprised if the feature is just busted tho. Your worldbuilding is wonderful and I particularly enjoy the anthropological and linguistic elements.

Ok the thing is I had kind of decided I was not going to do any conlanging because I don't feel like I'm equipped to do a good job of it, like was fully like "I'm just going to do JUST enough that it doesn't fail an immediate sniff test and is more thoughtful than just keysmashing and putting in vowels". And then have kinda been conlanging anyway (though not to a very deep and serious extent. I maybe have like....an above average comprehension of how language construction works via willingness to research, but that's not saying much, also I can never remember the meanings of most linguistic terms like 'frictives' or etc off the top of my head. I'm just kinda raw dogging it with a vague conceptualization of what these things mean)

I do at least have a naming language for Wardi (and more basic rules for other established languages) but the rudimentary forms of it were devised with methods much shakier and less linguistically viable than even the most basic naming language schemes, and I only went back over it LONG after I had already made a bunch of words so there's some inconsistencies with consonant presence and usage. (This can at least be justified because it IS a language that would have a lot of loanwords and would be heavily influenced by other language groups- Burri being by far the most significant, Highland-Finnic and Yuroma-Lowlands also being large contributors)

The 'method' I used was:

-Skip basic construction elements and fully move into devising necessary name words, with at least a Vibe of what consonants are going to be common and how pronunciation works -Identify some roots out of the established words and their meanings. Establish an ongoing glossary of known roots/words. -Construct new words based in root words, or as obvious extensions/variants of established words. -Get really involved in how the literal meanings of some words might not translate properly to english, mostly use this to produce a glossary of in-universe slang. -Realize that I probably should have at least some very basic internal consistency at this point. -Google search tutorials on writing a naming language. -Reverse engineer a naming language out of established words, and ascribe all remaining inconsistencies to being loanwords or just the mysteries of life or whatever.

I do at least have some strongly established pronunciation rules and a sense of broad regional dialect/accents.

-'ai' words are almost always pronounced with a long 'aye' sound.

-There is no 'Z' or 'X' sound, a Wardi speaker pronouncing 'zebra' would go for 'tsee-brah', and would attempt 'xylophone' as 'ssye-lohp-hon'

-'V' sounds are nearly absent and occur only in loanwords, and tend to be pronounced with a 'W' sound. 'Virsum' is a Highland word (pronounced 'veer-soom') denoting ancestry, a Wardi speaker would go 'weer-sum'.

-'Ch' spellings almost always imply a soft 'chuh' sound when appearing after an E, I, or O (pelatoche= pel-ah-toh-chey), but a hard 'kh' sound after an A or U (odomache= oh-doh-mah-khe). When at the start of a word, it's usually a soft 'ch' unless followed by an 'i' sound (chin (dog) is pronounced with a hard K 'khiin', cholem (salt) is pronounced with a soft Ch 'cho-lehm')

-Western Wardin has strong Burri cultural and linguistic influence, and a distinct accent- one of the most pronounced differences is use of the ñ sound in 'nn' words. The western city of Ephennos is pronounced 'ey-fey-nyos' by most residents, the southeastern city of Erubinnos is pronounced 'eh-roo-been-nos' by most residents. Palo's surname 'Apolynnon' is pronounced 'A-puh-lee-nyon' in the Burri and western Wardi dialects (which is the 'proper' pronunciation, given that it's a Kos name), but will generally be spoken as 'Ah-poh-leen-non' in the south and east.

-R's are rolled in Highland-Finnic words. Rolling R's is common in far northern rural Wardi dialects but no others. Most urban Wardi speakers consider rolling R's sort of a hick thing, and often think it sounds stupid or at least uneducated. (Brakul's name should be pronounced with a brief rolled 'r', short 'ah' and long 'uul', but is generally being pronounced by his south-southeastern compatriots with a long unrolled 'Brah' sound).

Anyway not really a sturdy construction that will hold up to the scrutiny of someone well equipped for linguistics but not pure bullshit either.

[sleepy-writes-stuff]

DP X DC WRITING PROMPT #8

(Had this idea a couple nights ago after playing Oxenfree for the eighth time. Not based on the game or anything, but that would also be extremely cool to read. Anyone who wants to take this idea, take it and run. Run as far as you can with it. I'd love to see what you write.)

next →

✦

Radio Silence

The Ghost Zone/Infinite Realms is supposed to be linked to every universe/dimension in existence. If this is true, what if when The Accident ™ occurred, Danny's dying screams echoed throughout the multiverse where everyone to ever exist hears the cries of a child going through what sounds like agonizing, lethal torture.

This wakes some of the heroes/vigilantes in the DC Universe ™ from a dead sleep, chills scraping up and down their spines, while others freeze in their spots as they listen and can do nothing to stop it. The Supers have it the worst, because the screams ring in their ears long after they stop and they were also able to pick up what sounded like begging. Begging for the pain to stop. What felt like hours of listening to the tortured screams of the poor child, is only a matter of thirteen seconds before they're abruptly and eerily cut short. Clark is absolutely sobbing up in the Watchtower, Batman beside him as they were originally going over plans for a mission.

This just took immediate priority though.

Clark fully believes that whoever the child was, they were no longer alive. At least until he starts hearing the voice, mostly when the child was in distress, in pain, or seemingly battling something. It's later that he discovers the rest of the world -and even the universe- can also hear the child's voice, although more faintly and only on occasion. His voice comes across more clear on silent unused radio frequencies. Danny has basically become the voice of the universe.

While the Justice League are trying to devise a way to find and keep this child safe, them and the rest of the universe are able to hear every battle (especially the ones against Pariah Dark, the other Ancient ghosts, and Dan) every late night spent stitching himself back together, everytime he's been electrocuted and forced to relive the way he died. Those particular moments are what nearly bring the JL to their knees. The screams are too close to what started this entire mission to find the mysterious boy. Whoever this Vlad Plasmius or the Guys in White were gained a long list of people who want to personally punch them in the face, Batman and Superman being the first of that list.

By the time the JL have built a machine to allow them to travel to Danny's dimension, they've heard all of Danny's accomplishments, followed him throughout his growth as a young hero, and his ascension to the throne. They are immensely proud of him. Several of them have thought of inviting him to the Justice League, even if he was from an entirely different dimension.

Now though, after years of listening to him and hearing his struggles, and begging for a way to find him, the Justice League will finally complete a years long mission.

Time to meet Phantom.

✦

This prompt doesn't have to be just a DP X DC prompt. This can apply to any universe you want to work with! Run wild with it! Have fun!

[hanasnx]

BUGGGGYYYYY we're literally talking about Anakin force fingering you in public but I had to bring this to your inbox because... Because duh

But this guy is HEINOUS I TELL YOU, because if he's fingering you in public, it's not slow, it's not gentle, like there is squelching and wetness on your fucking thighs om. All the while he can barely keep the smile off his face, because if the restaurant wasn't so loud, surely all eyes would be on you!! Like it's fucked up, he's going hard and fast and relentless and BLATANT while you beg him to stop, he's fucking embarassing you, "Anakin what the fuck are you doing?". But here's the thing he's most definitely mind tricking everyone into not noticing, but he never told you that. It doesn't erase the shame of doubling over and cumming your brains out at the fucking dinner table in front of your friends. He did this because he got bored and he told you he would, he had no interest in meeting your friends, he only cares about you, this is what you get for bringing him to dinner.

-xstarkillerx

"if hes fingering you in public its not slow its not gentle" ""anakin what the fuck are you doing?"" "he had no interest in meeting your friends, he only cares about you, this is what you get for bringing him to dinner."

he's a menace, a war criminal, a jerk. im in love with him i have to stick sumn up me i cant believe this oh my fucking god

like he has to entertain himself in the most absurd way possible because it has to be a punishment for you too for dragging him somewhere he vocalized having no desire to attend. there's so much socializing that comes with his career and to spend time with anyone other than you and all your holes sounds exhausting. he's staring at you at the beginning of dinner while he devises what to do to you. thinking about how he can get you under the table to stuff your face until he settles on bringing you to orgasm using four of his fingers plugging you up. overpowering you in every way when you try to get him to back off. but you're so wet.. how can you expect him to stop now? it's only courteous to finish you off.

[mcflymemes]

PROMPTS FROM MADAGASCAR *  assorted dialogue from the 2005 film, adjust as necessary

do not interrupt me when i'm daydreaming!

just wanted to wish you a happy birthday!

i got something stuck in my teeth. it's driving me crazy! can you help me out here? please?

okay, just don't talk with your mouth full.

what the heck is this doing in there?

it's just that another year's come and gone and i'm still doing the same old thing.

i see your problem.

maybe i should go to law school.

you know it's all in your head.

gather around, people. big show's about to start.

just smile and wave, boys. smile and wave.

we don't want to risk another cave in.

i want you to look cute and cuddly.

i'll be here all week. in fact, i'll be here for my whole life.

we don't belong here. it's just not natural.

you can actually go there? that sounds great!

you didn't see anything.

you guys are just embarrassing me. and yourselves.

what are you talking about? we worked on that all week.

oh for crying out loud, [name]. would you just tell us?

i told you it was bad luck.

i hear they have wide-open spaces in connecticut.

everybody has days when they think the grass might be greener somewhere else.

don't do that. you really had me worried there.

you suck your thumb?

this doesn't make any sense.

you don't bite the hand that feeds you.

you know, maybe one of us should wait here.

can i shoot it?

did that just say "grand central station" or "my aunt's constipation?"

we have an emergency here! this is an emergency situation!

get a grip on yourselves people!

how could you do this to me?

what's the big deal? i was coming back in the morning!

i am loving the sound of your voice!

because of me? i fail to see how this is my fault.

i did not ask you to come after me, did i?

does anybody feel nauseous?

don't make me come up there.

let's just talk about it like adults.

i'm going to kill you! you come here! don't run away from me!

san diego? what could be worse than san diego?

don't you shush me!

where there's music, there's people.

a sidewalk would be nice.

this place kinda grows on you.

oh, i'm not smiling. it's gas.

i don't know how things are normally run around here.

they've come to kill us! and take our women! and our precious metals!

i have devised a cunning test to see whether these are savage killers.

aren't you the sweetest little thing.

they're always annoying us by trespassing, interrupting our parties, and ripping our limbs off.

can you not see that you've insulted the freak?

you must tell me, who the heck are you?

all hail the new york giants!

you know something? i bet they're already on their way.

i've been standing here for hours.

look, i've been thinking. maybe if you gave this place a chance, i don't know... you might even enjoy yourself.

hey, have a drink. it's on the house.

i haven't eaten in two days.

excuse me. you're biting my butt.

what's a simple bite on the buttocks among friends?

they're on a slow lifeboat to china.

i don't want to hurt you.

should we head back to new york?

after much deep and profound brain things inside my head, i have decided to thank you for bringing peace to our home.

ooh. you just read my mind.

you know, i wouldn't even mind coming back here sometime.

[beyonsatan]

How to spot an amateur astrologer who's misleading you and doesn't know as much as they're letting on 🤏

Some people that read this are gonna think I'm being toxic or a bit excessive and that's fine, not that what other people think even matters anyways but...I just don't like when ppl are getting scammed and lied to and also because alot of people charge (way more than I do) for readings and it's alot of misinformation that gets around with these readings and money in additional to time is being wasted so I see this as me doing people a favor. I'm going to go over some things only a person who has absolutely no knowledge of astrology beyond social media will do

• they associate the outer planets, neptune, uranus and pluto with the signs aquarius, pisces and scorpio. This is like the most obvious sign and I talk about it so much not just on here and because the outer planets change signs every decade or so, they're generational planets, not personal ones so think long and hard about what "personal" even means and then get back to me. It isn't really fair to assign the signs I listed above to planets that aren't personal and then to assign the rest of the other signs to the inner planets that reveal so much more about our daily lives than the outer ones do, it just seems so elitist to me honestly and overall misleading. The signs themselves literally rule over certain aspects of our life and they get their meaning from their traditional rulers. Aquarius being an outcast ? That comes from saturn not uranus, pisces being spiritual gurus with lots of love to give, that's from jupiter not neptune, Scorpio being a sexual sign that confronts us with our trauma, weaknesses and mortality? That comes from mars 😫

• 90% of their posts begin with "astro observations." This one especially I think is gonna upset some people because it's all you'll run into across astrology Tik tok or like I said even on here and everyone eats it up because they get an ego boost off of these posts that don't offer anything real or helpful in your everyday life but I wanted to say that a lot of these posts are just so surface level from the observations down to the critiques especially since so many speak from a personal place and arent objective enough about it. You'll read things like "moon in the 2nd house can indicate you like savory food" which even if that were true there's so many other things to consider with that placement like what it's aspecting, what sign is it in, is it fallen etc, if they're not elaborating on why and where they read this, it's null and void and they're making up shit as they go like i'm actually ROTFL as I type this 🤣

• they associate the houses with certain signs. Among everything I listed before and after this, this is probably THE most misleading one because I've had so many people come to me thinking that they had an exalted venus because their venus was in the 12th house and I really don't mean to laugh when people tell me this but hearing this did give me one hell of a chuckle ☠️. This idea that the signs have some proximity to the houses (like i mentioned in a previous post) is what created the grounds for people to think pisces is this misguided damsel in distress junkie who has no sense of direction and is more likely to fall victim to a drug habit which is just not true. Having alot of planets In this house is an indicator of partial drug use or habitual however having planets in pisces in NOT, like it's not even similar a little bit 💀💀💀 people keep getting pisces meaning from neptune and the 12th house and it's a mistake westerner astrologers especially Americans continue to make and it plays a role in why astrology is so ridiculed. Just like having personal planets in the 1st house isn't like having planets in aries because the 1st house isn't even the joy of mars, its the joy of mercury which finds exaltation in Virgo. Sounds familiar to you guys?

• they give devised meanings to "empty houses." What I mean by this is when certain people teaching about astrology say things like "having an empty 2nd house means you will struggle with money" or "having an empty 3rd house means your academic performance will be poor." This is not something that they read up about, learned with a teacher or on their own, this is something they're making up as they go. I would never tell a client that "your empty 1st house means you don't exist and lack an identity" because that's just illogical. Empty houses do not mean anything at all lmao. When houses are empty you look at what planet is ruling that house and what house that planet is in to get an idea of how that empty house is being served in the horoscope. It is impossible to have planets in every house and there are going to be at least 2 empty houses in a horoscope

Ps: i'm not looking down on anyone for choosing to believe these things, I used to be like everyone else just learning everything about astrology online instead but if you're anything like me, at some point your curiosity is gonna get the best of you and make you ask these people where they are learning this stuff from, who is their teacher and where are THEY learning these things from, what books do they read, you know what I mean? I just want people to know the truth and who they're learning from. You can continue to believe the things that alot of self proclaimed astrologers teach their audience because i broke through a facade, that's fine but I'm not concerned with "letting people enjoy things" in order to maintain feeding their delusions, the truth is meant to hurt

Hope this helps xx