#but I think that they might be some of the most common English speaking ones

[inklings-sprint]

Alright, so I think I have a plan now for what the Inklings Sprints Brainstorming week will sort of look like. As always there might be changes later once we’re closer to the actual dates, but as it is now, over the last week and maybe a half of September I’ll host the brainstorming week. Which will mostly consist of me posting questions/thoughts/prompts over the week which will mostly be set throughout the day. Then I’ll have a few set times throughout the week/week and a half for a more active brainstorming session for anyone who wants to actively throw some ideas more or less. (Discord people feel free to copy any ideas to share to the discord if you’re interested in them.)

Below is a calendar and a very quick view of some time zones in relation to me (which is highlighted in blue). I know that I’m missing time zones and so I would always double check to make sure that the timing makes sense to you.

Just a reminder that the big brainstorming week push is going to start on Monday.

Liveblogging sessions on Sunday Sept. 22 at 8am, Tuesday Sept. 24 at 6:30pm, Thursday Sept. 26 at 8pm, Saturday Sept. 28 at 7am and maybe one at 5:30pm, Sunday Sept. 29 at 8am, maybe 11am, and maybe 10pm, Monday Sept. 30 at 8am, and maybe 8pm.

Those times I will be sharing my actual planning thoughts in a desperate attempt to have something beyond vibes for Team Chesterton and Team Lewis.

Throughout the rest of the week I will share other thoughts and prompts to try and spark some brainstorming ideas.

[leclerc-hs]

fille stupide - cl16

Pairing: charles leclerc x fem!reader Summary: request from anon, in which you don't know French and a stranger helps you find your way back home Warning: 18+, SMUT, mean charles, degradation, some French (badly translated please correct me if needed), smut, smut, smut.... Word Count: 1808 Author's Note: I can't stop writing smut??? I think I hit every area the anon wanted!!! xo hope you like it lmaoooo also I wrote this so fast so it might not be my best work but I couldn’t sleep so I decided to write to pass the time. UPDATE: Also I just want to give a major shoutout to @dannyramirezwife for checking the translations for me!! It seriously means the world to meeee PART 2

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

DESPITE MONACO'S REPUTATION as one of the smallest countries in the world, you found yourself defying expectations by getting lost. The common assumption that such a compact place would be easy to navigate proved to be a misconception, as Monaco’s intricate streets and unique layout presented a challenge, turning what seemed impossible into a reality. Your reality.

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.

The murmur of students passing by echoed, their conversations blending into a linguistic symphony of French, a language foreign to your ears. The decision to pursue the International University of Monaco, a place where the native tongue was French, felt like a bold and ambitious choice at first. The picturesque landscapes, the allure of the Mediterranean, and the prestigious academic reputation had drawn you in. 

However, as you stood outside the building, the reality of linguistic barriers hit you with full force. It seemed like every conversation, every announcement, and every piece of information was enveloped in a language you struggled to comprehend. Although, most knew English, it wasn’t the standard, and you were not yet adjusted to it. 

Panic surged through you as you hurriedly navigated the winding sidewalks, desperately trying to locate the building housing your apartment. Your focus was solely on scanning the towering buildings, hoping to spot a familiar one. The urgency of the situation compelled you to dart forward, not paying mind to those surrounding you. It was a recipe disaster, leading you to collide right into the body of another person.

“Mon dieu,” My God. The man said with a slight annoyance in his tone. “Regarde où tu marches!” Watch where you’re walking!

As the words were proclaimed, your eyes locked with a man’s gaze. He was the most stunning individual your eyes have ever beheld. His physique was tan, sculpted and taut, with biceps stretching the seams of his t-shirt. A pair of black sunglasses perched confidently on the bridge of his nose, adding an extra layer of allure to his presence.

You had absolutely no idea what he was saying. Although by the look of his furrowed eyebrows and tightened jaw, it was evident he was far from pleased. He removed his sunglasses, unveiling a pair of narrowed eyes.

Embarrassment tinged your cheeks as you stammered, “I’m so sorry!”

Under his scrutinizing gaze, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of smallness. His eyes, which you presumed to be green, were veiled in fury, making it difficult to discern their true color, yet undeniable captivating in their intensity. 

“Tu parles Français?” Do you speak French? A sly grin stretched across his lips slowly, reveling in your bewilderment. “Stupide, stupide fille,” Stupid, stupid girl. he added, savoring the moment.

Gazing downward, you focused on your feet, idly brushing your hands across the bottom of your white sundress. The garment was short, adorned with a little tied bow between your breasts and flower details.

“I’m a bit lost.” You muttered. “Would you be able to help me find my place?”

“I ne sais pas,” I don’t know. He persisted in speaking French, despite knowing you couldn’t understand. It felt as if he aimed to humiliate you, to provoke a sense of frustration or anger deliberately.

“Évidemment, je peux. Fille stupide.” Of course, I can. Stupid girl. He was mocking you and you didn’t even know it.

You let out an exasperated groan and sidestepped to make way for him, muttering a small ‘nevermind.’ However, as you moved, he followed suit, intentionally blocking your path and halting your movement.

“You shouldn’t be wearing dresses so short,” his fingers gently toyed with the thin strap of your dress. “It’s a bit windy for them.”

You felt the goosebumps rise on your skin from his touch alone. You frowned, “So, you do speak English?”

“Oui, la plupart des gens le font.” Yes, most people do. You couldn’t help but roll your eyes as he continued speaking in French. While you acknowledged the need to learn the language, it felt like he was intentionally being cruel rather than helpful. “Are you in University?”

You nodded briskly, eager not to waste any time, especially since he finally seemed willing to be helpful.

“Most of the students live this way,” he mentioned, his hand wrapping around your wrist as he began to walk, essentially pulling you along with him. The touch of his skin against yours stirred butterflies in your stomach. Despite the fact he was insanely hot, you struggled to concentrate, almost forgetting the fact that he was behaving like a total asshole. 

He muttered French phrases to himself throughout the entire walk, small laughs escaping his lips while you remained clueless about what he was saying.

“Je veux te manger.” I want to eat you out.

“Tu t’habilles comme une salope.” You dress like a slut.

“Je vais te détruire.” I’m going to wreck you.

You weren’t sure what it was. Whether it was delusion from exhaustion or simply the undeniable sex appeal of the guy, the words, even though you didn’t understand them, strangely aroused you. 

Guiding you through the streets, he steered you into a lobby of a building that finally seemed familiar. “What number are you?” he inquired, referring to your apartment number. 

“Why would I give a stranger my apartment number?”

He scoffed, “I’m Charles. Not a stranger anymore. What’s the number?”

You didn’t give him the information because he convinced you that easily. It was more because he knew the area better than you. 

“0217? I think.” You replied, not entirely certain. The rush of your first day at university had left you with little time to settle in and memorize details. He didn’t seem to have much patience as he led you quickly up the stairwell and in front of a door with the numbers 0217 on it. You pulled out your key and unlocked the door, smiling as you finally pushed it open with success.

“Come in and have some water before you go,” You offered. It was the least you could do to express gratitude for his assistance. Your apartment was sparsely furnished, with only a mattress on the floor and several boxes scattered about.

“Sorry for the mess,” you bent over to pick up two water bottles from the case of water, your lace underwear with tiny hearts all over them peeking out for Charles view. He groaned loudly and unashamed.

Fatigue weighed heavily behind your eyes, but a persistent ache tugged at your stomach, insisting on the need to fulfill it.

“Mon dieu, j’ai besoin de t’avoir.” My god, I need to have you.

You rolled your eyes at the man as he said yet another sentence in French, handing him the water bottle. Rather than taking the water bottle from your hand, he grasped tightly onto your forearm and pulled you into him, the shock of his grasp causing you to drop the water bottle.

You felt your stomach tightening with need as his hands were on you once again. It was sick really. How this big of an asshole could turn you on so much.

“Rule number one, you can only roll your eyes when my cock is stretching your tight little pussy.” The scent of his cologne made your knees week. It was embarrassing. How quickly he was able to affect you. 

A soft gasp escaped your lips at his words, and your heart raced rapidly in response. He towered over your small frame, a smirk playing on his lips as he looked at your flushed skin. A dead giveaway to how badly you were aching for him.

His hand swiftly pulled the strings of the dress, giving him full access to your breasts. He slipped his hand into it, pinching your nipple between his middle finger and thumb.

“On the bed.” His tone was demanding and authoritative, treating you like you were the dirt on the bottom of his shoe. Treating you like the slut that you were. “On your hands and knees.”

You rushed over to the bed, falling to your hands and knees, turning your head to look up at Charles behind you. Once he makes his way over, he grabs your hair and pulls you so your back is flushed to his chest, pulling your mouth to his. His tongue slips its way into your mouth, devouring you. The process is not entirely sexy. It’s urgent. Frantic. As if neither of you could have enough of one another.

He pulled away and spoke gruffly, as if he was angry with you. “Doesn’t even know a lick of French, stupide fille.” Stupid girl. He remarked, switching off between French and English.

Your dress was so short that he didn't even need to move it to see your panties. The dainty little hearts had him foaming at the mouth. So fucking cute.

“Fucking salope.” Slut. He pushes you back down, letting you fall back onto your hands as he pulled his pants down, freeing his cock.

You felt your mouth water at the sight. Just like him, his cock was beautiful. Perfectly smooth and dripping with pre-cum. You moaned as he pressed the head of his cock to your lace covered pussy, teasing you with it. You felt yourself growing needier, trying to push yourself onto his cock for more friction. 

“You’re so fucking wet,” He groaned, pulling your underwear to the side, and spitting directly onto your pussy. He did it as if he was spitting on the sidewalk, with no care and no respect, shoving two fingers into your heated center. He wasn’t gentle in the slightest. He was greedy, taking whatever he wanted from you. “Pathétique,” Pathetic. He sighs, shaking his head, "Such a cock slut."

Loud moans left your mouth as he stroked where you ached with his fingers before removing them and replacing them with his cock. 

“So fucking tight,” he hisses, his fingers grabbing onto the skin of your ass to add leverage as his continues to push deeper. To push harder. Your pussy squeezes him harder as he utters the words. “Tu aimes ça?” You like that? He muses on, “You like hearing what a tight pussy you have?”

“Dirty fucking slut.”

His hand reaches out and forces your head down onto the mattress, limiting your breathing. He’s completely unhinged. His hips relentlessly pounding into you. Fucking you like he’s mad at you. Fucking you like he hates you. With every thrust, a loud moan escapes your lips, echoing off the empty apartment walls.

“Come on my cock,” he demands. “Squeezing me like you’re going to come.” He states. You can hear the smirk in his voice. 

You feel yourself choking on your moans as it hits you. You’re now leaping over the edge of your orgasm. “That’s it,” he soothes, talking you through as you release all over his cock, but he doesn’t slow the roll of his hips into you. He pulls your face up from the mattress, his hand holding you up by the back of your neck. You’re completely limp, practically nothing but a toy for him to use. 

“Charles,” you’re yelling his name repeatedly.

At the sound of your voice yelling his name, he quickly pulls out and comes undone, releasing all over your backside. He collapses beside you, both of you trying to catch your breath. You both lie there, unmoving, just staring at each other.

“You should really learn French.” He laughs, a smug smile forming on his lips. You can’t help but laugh in response. 

“Maybe you can teach me?” 

“Peut être.” Maybe.

[naffeclipse]

Charm Brought It Back

Reader x Witches!Sun, Moon, & Eclipse

Commission Info

I am so excited to present this Hocus Pocus inspired AU requested by the lovely @jackofallrabbits! The boys star as the witchy brothers who return once a fated reader lights the starry candle. They simply must show their gratitude! And what better day to post such a spooky and fun fic than on Friday the 13th?!

Content Warning: Suggestive themes, heavy kissing, and heavy touching.

———

You turn the key and cut the engine of your car. With a flick, you turn off the headlights. The beginning of a sunset swoops down onto your ill-adjusted vision. The horizon is drenched in purples and oranges as shadows begin to crawl off of trees and their yellowed leaves. It will take a minute or two for your sight to adapt, but you have tilted and revolved the structure waiting just at the edge of the forest within your mind’s eyes for days now. It’s beyond the dirt road you’ve pulled onto the shoulder of.

Blinking slowly, you find the house’s dark silhouette through the boughs of clustered trees, and you sigh at the beauty of its preserved history.

The building is an artifact dating back roughly to the 1630s. A post-medieval English-style home, it contains two stories with an overhanging jetty and stunning clapboard siding that has survived a little under four centuries of existence. Your eyes catch on the windows and your heart sings at the sight. Diamond-paned casement. And there, decorative pendants of celestial bodies, including iron-casted suns, moons, and overlapping symbols of the two. The steeply pitched roof is common for the era and is more renowned in its descendant the saltbox form, but this style boosts its spooky aura.

The Puritan colonists were the ones responsible for importing the style to America as they landed here on the eastern coast. 

It’s no stretch of the imagination to think of witches and execution trials while gazing over the beautiful home. You’re particularly intrigued by the history of the Salem witch trials, and as a historian, you couldn’t deny yourself the chance to enter the building and feed the gnawing need to stand within a piece of history.

Stepping out of your car, a gust of wind carrying the bitter edge of autumn cuts through your brown sweater. You shiver and shut the door as quietly as you can manage. This is hallowed ground. This will supply your ever inquisitive mind which is always looking to the past with a curiosity most insatiable.

You face the home. A footpath lightly serpentines between the trees. Hooligans with destructive tendencies and teenagers on dares will venture here for a spooky, fun time, but are usually caught by the police because the building sits on private property. You asked for permission from the owner of the hundreds of acres of forest land that includes the so-called “Witch House” if you might enter the premises. Given your credentials, you were certain the owner would trust you with exploring the home.

Much to your relief, the owner agreed. 

You look up, arms clutching your knitted sleeves to fight the chill of an October breeze, in awe and reverence. 

From your pocket, you slip out a wrought-iron key with the symbol of the moon overlapping the sun to form a black eclipse and marvel again at the intricacy of ancient beauty. Your fingertips grow chilled in the late hour. The sun shifts from orange to dark, bleeding red like blood from a heart spilled across the horizon. You walk towards the home. 

Perhaps you should have arrived sooner. You were caught in another historical journal depicting the specific timeframe of when this home would have been occupied by its original inhabitants. 

The rumors even now speak of curses and cursed artifacts within the building. Some of it is true—you have confirmed with your own scholarly sources. The original owners were a trio of brothers. They were accused of witchcraft and hanged for the crimes. That much is historically documented and verified. 

What is fantasy is the tale of the brothers casting a curse with their dying breaths, declaring they would one day return if a virgin lit a starry candle on the anniversary of their executions.

Superstition. Most likely, the fear of the townspeople transcended to their children, and their children, down and down until it became a tale to spin on Halloween night around these parts. 

The door is black as you approach it. A stray branch catches on your sweater, pulling on a thread, and you yank yourself free and silently mourn the roughen fabric before returning your attention to what really matters. You must be careful. This entire place is iconic and in need of preservation. 

You slip the key into the lock hole and turn it with a thick, heavy click before the black wood door groans and slides inwards as if inviting you into its sphere. You take a breath. Your boots cross the threshold and you enter the home. 

As is typical of some homes built in the early seventeenth century, an open hall greets you. In the far back is the fireplace with a cauldron still sitting upon an ashy bed. An original wood-carve table and chairs are set to one side as a staircase climbs up into the darkness of the second level. What little red light leaks inside is narrowed and cut up into diamonds by the panes. To one wall, shelves contain dusty and forgotten cooking utensils, once glimmery copper pots, and dinner dishes with designs considered much too gawky in the Puritan era but it causes you to softly gasp.

Your hand covers your mouth as you gaze around you, overwhelmed with the beautiful intricacies of metallic chandeliers holding half-burned tallow candles, and to the other wall lies a bookshelf covered in cobwebs as if the spiders refuse to let anyone examine such precious reads. Your fingers already itch to gently pry out one manuscript and gaze at the original script of whoever wrote it.

But the light—it’s far too dark now. The red has given way to blue and pale indigo. You squint. You reach into your other pocket for a lighter and flick it on. The tiny flame spouts a delicate light. Never would you dare admit this out loud to a living soul, but you so desperately wish to see the home in its authentic state, lit only by the technology the brothers had at the time: fire.

There are thick, yellowed candles lying on the table and clustered together on the narrow window sills. You have no hope of reaching the metal chandeliers but you do spy a candelabra positioned near the bookshelf on a small end table. You light it first with a careful touch of your lighter flame. The wick catches, even after all of these years. You smile softly, your heart warm within your chest as you bask in the essence of this beautiful place.

A few more candles should suffice. 

You slip to the table to light the thick and tall candles. The flames bloom and warm the space in rich light, casting thick shadows from support beams. You almost set your lighter away when you spy one last candle set upon a golden candle holder. The fashioned metal twists and twines with elaborate engravings of shooting stars and slices of sun rays were placed in the corner of the room almost out of sight. The curiosity within you urges you to take a step, then another, and another. You stand in front of the almost forgotten candle.

The tallow is black as midnight. Strange. How did they color this? Embedded within the darkness are speckles of white, splattering the candle like an array of stars. Your eyes stray in search of constellations before shaking your head.

It’s true. There is a starry candle. Perhaps the brothers did dabble in the occult, playing with cards and fortune telling, and being punished with death for their interest in unholy magic. 

The wick is dark and untouched as if it were never lit before. You bring the lighter flame closer. Superstition might worry another, but you concern yourself with logic and reason—explanations of humanity rather than inexplicable forces beyond comprehension. 

Something stirs from a nearby corner shelf. Two long ears twitch. You catch a glimpse of a rabbit with creamy white fur just before it leaps off of the shelf and directly onto your arm. You yelp. Nearly dropping the lighter, you scramble back as the rabbit hits the floor, collects itself, and sits on its haunches.

Green eyes glare up at you. The rabbit, small and bunny-like, stays firmly between you and the starry candle.

You stand with your chest heaving and your lungs scraping out air, almost burning your thumb on the lighter flame before turning around yourself. Where did the woodland creature come from? Did it crawl its way inside like a rat and become trapped within the colonial home? The shot of adrenaline still flowing through your veins leaves your hands shaking.

The rabbit is still watching you with uncanny eyes. Prey animals so rarely stare back at bigger, larger threats. Perhaps it’s a pet. A runaway pet that somehow ended up here, of all places.

You slowly offer out your hand, keeping the lighter away in your other, as you take a step towards it.

It thumps a foot once, as if in warning, then bounds away. You watch it disappear into the house, still reeling from the fright it gave you. 

If Michael was here, he would have laughed and told you to leave with him, now. He never wanted you to go here, especially alone, but you shake such ominous warnings away. He said curiosity killed the cat. You disagreed. This house is a part of history, not a curse. Witches are mere stories, conjured out of historical unrest and the longing to blame bad luck and tragedies upon an individual or three. 

There’s always an explanation for fear superstition or mistrust. It’s far more sad than it is spooky.

You shake your head, smooth out the creases in your sweater, and face the starry candle again. The lighter flame flickers softly as you draw near it.

It is the anniversary of the brothers’ executions. You remember now as the shadows from other candles drape over you like a veil. You are also a virgin.

You laugh to yourself, covering your mouth as you do so. Look at you! You’re getting so worked up because a rabbit jumped at you.

It’s only hocus-pocus.

You tilt the lighter until it engulfs the wick. The flame catches, and you at last snap the lighter shut and return it to your pocket. Your eyes squint slightly at the candle. The wick snaps and bursts into sparks. The flame is not yellow or orange or even blue—it’s pure white like a comet streaking across the sky.

A crack of thunder splits the night sky with a bellow so monstrous, you feel like a child again, fearing a storm. You drop low to the ground, shielding your head as if the very world was going to fall upon you. A spark cracks in the fireplace, conjured out of ash underneath the cauldron before it burns hot and bright. The cauldron immediately begins roiling and bubbling with water. Laughter, great and terrible, and filled with the most jester-like joy sweeps over the room.

The pulse in your ears drowns at any sense but the need to hide. You scramble into the corner, tucking yourself behind the stand of the starry candle and hunker down. Holding your breath, you grab a fistful of your sweater while clutching your chest, and watch the door to the almost 400-year-old house fly open.

Three figures stride inside, looking about the place with wide eyes and disk-like heads framed in jutting adornments not unlike sun rays or shrouded in a heavy, dark blue hood.

“Brothers! We’re home!” The first one, tall and dark with deep red hues to his form, accent in sharp orange sun rays and an eclipse upon his face, turns to face his brother with bright, cat-like yellow eyes. “Isn’t it glorious?”

Another figure steps forward, yellow and off-white. Pale eyes beam. His head is crowned in bright sun rays as well. His spindly fingers twindle together in exuberant energy while he glances about the room eagerly. “Oh, yes, yes! More than anything! It’s as if we weren’t gone for more than a day—though the dust and cobwebs beg to differ.”

He draws a claw—you suck in a sharp breath—along the table’s edge and rubs his taloned fingertips together in disappointment. 

“We must get to cleaning at once.”

“No,” the last figure fixes his hood with silvery digits. Golden jewels hang down the back of his unusual skull, the last and most prominent adornment a thick, golden star pendant. His eyes cast around the room, scarlet, and searching. “We must thank the little mouse who lit the candle.”

He flashes sharp teeth within his wide mouth, shaping it into a hungry grin. You gulp.

“Where are our manners?” The red and dark one twists back to the room with a flourish of his arms. His yellow gaze sweeps over the shelves and floors with a blade-like glint. “Of course, we must thank one so lovely.”

A dark cape drapes about his person. Underneath, a white flowing shirt hangs loosely to his lithe and slender figure, causing you to balk upon staring at such an exposed chest. The other two are no different, wearing similar shirts and dark trousers, but the hooded one bears a thick, longer cape while the sunny figure shares a cape similar to the first.

The yellow one lifts his wrists and frowns at the red ribbons tied around them. Golden bells jingle softly in an ominous chord. 

“How terrible a reminder of our current impermanence,” he growls low in his throat, all cheerfulness lost and causing you to squeeze your ribs in fear.

“Patience, Sun,” the red one speaks, though he too casts a narrowed glance to the black ribbons and golden bells adorning his wrists. “We will affix ourselves back to this world in due time.”

“Eclipse, what a delicious creature I smell.” The hooded figure steps deeper into the home. Blue claws scratch at equally blue ribbons knotted to his hand bones but his attention is terrifyingly fixed on the candle stand just above your hiding spot. 

You shrink further into the corner.

“Yes, Moon? And how lovely?” Eclipse, you assume, asks. His yellow eyes flash.

“As lovely as the stars,” Moon answers.

You watch claws curl around the wooden side of the candle stand, scratching deeply into the wood before a half-moon face emerges from behind, teeth set like a predator’s upon the sight of a wounded animal. Your heart flutters like a bird with a broken wing.

“Hello, little mouse. Won’t you come and play with us?” 

You scream as he leaps behind the candle stand, takes you by the arms, and pulls you to your feet. You struggle to free yourself, crying out as he grabs hold of your wrists and fixes you firmly in place. 

“My, how sweet,” he purrs in a dangerously low voice that rolls in the back of his throat. “You are the darling virgin who lit the candle, no?”

“Let me go!” You thrash but Moon grins in delight, as if you’re simply too precious. 

“You deserve proper thanks,” He lowers one hand, forcing you to submit with slightly bent knees. “Here is my gratitude, little mouse.”

You freeze as he brings your hand towards his mouth, and a hundred, horrifying visions of him biting your fingers off or sinking his teeth in your palm send your blood into a frozen sludge of fear.

The witch, however, presses a kiss to the center of your palm. The softness catches the gears in your mind and jerks them to a halt.

“Thank you for allowing us to return once more,” he rasps. His scarlet eyes find yours between the space of your thumb and forefinger, and a strange stirring takes hold of your middle.

“This isn’t real,” you breathe. Dizziness begins to take hold.

This must be a dream, a thought gone wild, or inhaled bacteria triggering hallucinations.

Moon’s grin widens. He lowers your hand, loosening his hold for one precious moment. You rip your hands free of his grasp. A low growl escapes him but you’ve already slipped away, your eyes upon the door and spilling with the need to rush out into the night, away from the impossibilities standing before you—

Arms snatch your waist and lift your feet from the ground. You gasp. 

Held in the air, you squirm before a hot breath dusts the shoulder of your sweater. You fall still, your throat bobbing as a mouth presses into the corner of your neck and lays a kiss on the sensitive spot. Gooseflesh prickles up and down your body.

“I assure you, I’m very real, little mouse,” Moon purrs. His hands squeeze your hips once. “And as nice as this… attire is, I would dress you in blues and silvers. You would look proper and powerful, like my brothers and I.”

A squeak escapes you. You shrink against him, caught in his embrace.

“Brothers?” The word rattles out of your throat. 

“This is our home,” Moon whispers. “And you are our most honored guest.”

You manage to pry off his hands from your waist. With a sinister chuckle, the blue and silver hands release you. Without looking back, you run, ignoring the twinge in your stomach that whispers it was too easy to get away.

You hardly get a few steps before the sunny one—Sun—steps into your path. He catches you in his arms and spins you in a waltz at breakneck speed, your feet never touching the ground, before stopping without warning as he dips you low. He looms above you, his smile filled with sharp teeth.

“Let me get an eyeful. Oh, yes, you look good enough to eat,” he simpers. His hand splays along the small of your back and you gawk up at him, still trying to regain your balance after the sickness-inducing whirl. “You have no idea how long I’ve waited for you.”

“I just want to leave,” you whimper. “Please, don’t hurt me.”

“Hurt you? Sunshine,” he laughs, and it echoes with all of his heart—do once-hanged witches have a heart? There is no historical journey to give context to this very moment, you fear.

He lowers his sultry gaze to you. “I wish to only thank you. And I intend to.”

He pulls you back to your feet. You’re still clasped in his embrace like lovers on a ballroom floor. His hand hooks tight to your hip, and his other catches the side of your face. Heat spreads through the marrow of your bones.

On the tabletop beside you, something white moves across the plane of its surface, hunkering behind the thick stack of candles still burning.

His head lowers to your neck. You stiffen as he tilts your head away, opening you to his parting teeth. A tongue, dark and sinuous, flicks out of his maw. A gasp slips from your lips at the wet lick up the column of your throat. Eyelids fluttering, you start to sag as weakness fills your knees. He drags his tongue higher to taste your jawline and finishes at your cheek with a swipe for good measure. 

Your hands find him and clutch tightly to his slender arms. He presses his lips to your ear and with a misty warmth, whispers.

“Thank you for—Gah!”

The white rabbit leaps up from the table, squirming directly between you and his chest, breaking you apart. Instinctively, you jump away just as Sun snarls. The heart-wrenching sound shakes your entire frame as he snatches the rabbit by the scruff before it can scramble back from his wretched claws.

“I’ll boil you alive!” he thunders. He steps towards the cauldron, back where Moon leans against the wall, watching the spectacle with an amusing twitch of his grinning maw. Behind you, Eclipse stands at the door like a sentinel, his eyes still hungry and even furious as he follows his brother’s movement to the cauldron. 

Sun dangles the rabbit, now struggling and kicking but unable to find purchase against the witch’s hold, above the boiling water of the caldron.

“No!” you cry.

Sun’s eyes widen. He turns back to you just as you close the distance and scoop the rabbit in your arms. His claws, pale-boned and wickedly curved, clench around emptiness. Without thought, you turn and run again though there is little hope as you come to the door. Your boots stamp against the wooden floorboards.

The rabbit in your embrace turns its face up to you and mutters in a woman’s voice, “You have no idea what you’ve just done.”

You gawk, stunned before hands catch you by the shoulders. You’re brought to a dead halt. The rabbit leaps from your arms, drops to the floor, and races away into a shadowy corner of the room with only one glimpse of its fluffy tail before you’re left alone.

You twist and face the eldest witch’s attention. Eclipse. His yellow eyes go up and down your body, and you watch in muted shock as two additional arms emerge from the shadows of his cap. He forces you backward, one step after the other until your back is pinned against a dusty wall.

You stare into his eyes, chest rising and falling rapidly. Your pulse pounds in your eardrums.

“I don’t believe this is happening,” you utter.

The witch tilts his head with a wicked grin.

“We’ll make you a believer yet.” He promises, and his deep cords vibrate through your form. “My dear, we simply must thank you for all that you’ve done for us.”

His claws slip over your collarbones. Your breath quickens, a stirring you cannot name unfolding deep within your middle. His extra set of hands fall to your hips and begin caressing the bones. Daintily, carefully, his warm fingertips slip just underneath the hem of your sweater, touching your bare flesh. A shiver runs down your entire body, leaving you to squirm.

“Be a good little comet,” he says softly, “Let me pour my gratitude all over you.”

“I didn’t—I didn’t know it was true,” you stare into his face, marked with a red crescent over a dark shadow, and his eyes pierce into the very nature of your being. “You’re back.”

“Because of you,” he rumbles softly in his chest. His grin pulls higher at the corners.

His claws slip over the nap of your neck and card gently into the small, sensitive hairs at the bottom of your skull. You breathe in. His eyes brighten in pleasure before he slips his sharp but controlled talons over the shells of your ears and follows the arch of your cheekbone. His gaze drops to your lips. Your heart thumps and thumps against your sternum so powerfully, you fear he may hear it.

His lips pull over his razor-sharp teeth and you stop breathing.

His other set of hands begins working up the sides of your torso. He rubs slowly and gently, but you squirm despite this. He touches you far too intimately when you have never experienced such affections before. A mewl escapes your lips. You wriggle as he refuses to relent. 

In answer, his upper hands lower and capture your hands together in one, and pin them above your head to hold you in place. He coos, chastising. A great roil starts in your stomach and expands upwards until your face becomes pink and flushed.

“Hold still, little comet,” he chuckles, and you whimper. “I’m not finished with showering you in all my adoration.”

“Eclipse,” your breath is harsh and hot.

“It is good to hear my name upon such lovely lips,” his voice lowers, husky and scorching. “I knew a virgin would light the candle. I swore it to my brothers as they set us on the gallows and draped nooses around our necks. You are our light, our savior. How could I ever thank you?”

In his words, his burning stare that singes with sincerity, it clicks into place. All at once, you believe what you are seeing with your own two eyes. 

It’s true. He’s back. He and his brothers have returned with magic.

“I have questions,” you say hesitantly in your demureness, “I want answers.”

“Of course,” Eclipse agrees easily. “But first…”

A dark claw brushes your hair back from your face. The flutter in your heart can’t seem to hold still. Eclipse’s grin widens and his eyes soften.

“You have freckles like constellations,” he murmurs in the manner of one gazing at the night sky or one studying an ornate painting.  

Before you can shape words to reply, to say anything that might free you from his grasp, his mouth is upon yours. A sound softly catches in the back of your throat. You fall still under his caressing hands still moving below your sweater. He traces the row of your ribs. You have just enough mind to wonder if he feels your skin prickle in your sensitivity. His other hand clasps your wrists tighter. You gasp against his teeth. 

He pulls gently, hungrily, taking you as if a bite of honeycomb. You become melted honey, easily malleable between his teeth and then molded by his mouth. His tongue invades you. You moan softly at the claim he lays upon you until you become weak in the knees and almost fall. His kiss seals your fate.

He releases you from his maw. You sink slightly, and his arms fall out from under your sweater to properly catch you. He lowers your wrists, returns your hands, and brushes your hair once more from your face.

A chuckle emits from his lips, and you burn.

“You’ll stay with us, won’t you?” he asks, but he waits for no answer as he scoops you into his arms. Feet dangling, you have no choice but to cling to his shoulders and endure his brothers’ attention as he twists around and faces them.

The rabbit’s right. You are in trouble. Michael warned you. He said curiosity killed the cat.

But charm brought it back.

[ryuusei-niu]

I want to talk about Leo and spanish, because I see a lot of "bilingual Leo" that doesn't make much sense.

Soooo, let me start with this: Leo was not born in a country that speaks Spanish. And only his family talked Spanish. Therefore he would know what the language is like.

But let's not forget that he lives in a place where people speak English.

Well, let me explain this theory based on my life:

I'm argentinian but my mother is Brasilian. Since I was little, Portuguese was spoken in my house. Portuguese was my first language because we were moving to Brazil and I spoke fluent Portuguese until I was 6 years old. But then we stayed at Argentina. So, I had a lot of problems because I did understand Spanish, but I had a lot of mispronunciation and I mixed words between Spanish and Portugues. Over time I had to adapt to speaking Spanish full time, almost completely forgetting Portuguese. Nowadays I'm almost 19 and I haven't spoken Portuguese for years, but there are a lot of words that I thought my whole life were Spanish and weren't.

Based on Leo's story, he might be similar to me in this stuff.

Having said this, let me tell you situations that happen to me with Portuguese that I think would happen to Leo with Spanish:

He forgot how to form complete sentences in Spanish. And even when he tries to relearn Spanish, it is difficult for him and he can't speak or write things in Spanish.

He almost completely understands if someone speaks Spanish to him, though. Maybe he would miss some words but he understands a lot reading or hearing.

He has Spanish words that he always thought were English.

"And then we went to the ferretería and... Why are you looking at me like that... I said something in Spanish again, didn't I?" "Yeah, you did."

Piper and Jason got used to it and know the words he always gets confused.

And there are other words that he refuses to say in English, probably the most common ones, just because he likes how it sound at Spanish.

So whenever he needs to talk about it, he asks Jason or Piper to do it for him.

"I want the... Jason, fresa" "Strawberry flavor, please" "Thank u so much, man"

There are a lot of words that sound funny in English because they resemble words in Spanish

"I'm embarrassed." "You're embarazaste?" "...Yes?" "Wow, Frank, what are you going to name the baby?" "I hate you very much."

Mispronunciations everywhere. But it's something that happens some days. But when it happens it is horribly noticeable.

I mean, he does speak English very well. But sometimes...

SOME LETTERS ARE REALLY DIFFICULT TO HIM SOMETIMES.

People bullied him when he started school because he mispronounced some letters. Like R.

(I think he would have the opposite problem than me, since I was pronouncing the r very soft or as a j without meaning to because in some Portuguese words it sounds like that. So I guess he would have a very strong R.)

Sometimes he would get angry with his mother for instilling Spanish in him so much and that's why the kids make fun of him for talk like that.

Now he miss that his mother speak in Spanish to him.

"DIOS MÍO.", "POR DIOS, JASON", "CHIN", "CARAJO", "JESÚS, MARÍA Y TODOS LOS SANTOS".

Sometimes he says a lot of things in Spanish and makes it seem like he knows how to say them but in reality he used the translator.

"is that a Spanish dictionary...?" "*Kick it under the bed* No, of course not, why would I have one? I know Spanish, muy bueno. Mucho."

"It's very plane." "What? It is not a plane, Leo." "Yeah it is? Like, It is not curved, it has no disturbances. Plane surface." "FLAT, LEO." "NO WAY IT IS THAT. THEN WHAT DOES PLANE MEAN?!#@+$-1(?!"

Now he understands why people looked weirdly at him when he said plane.

He also forget words in Spanish and remember them in English. When this happens he stares at the space and feels his whole soul had lost its essence.

'espanish'

As Spanish speaker, it's very difficult to say 'isn't'. #Team It is not.

"Taired. Terid. Teerid. Tarid. Tæ—" "Tired." "That thing."

"you know, the— the thing. El coso. The coso of the cosito of the cosa—" "You forgot in Spanish too, right?" "Shut up."

SONGS. MEXICAN SONGS THAT HIS MOTHER LISTENED BECAUSE HIS GRANDFATHER LISTENED BECAUSE THEM MAKE HIM REMEMBER HIS HOME.

He doesn't know most of this song, he never listen to this song like, wanting to. They were on the radio, or a CD that his mother was playing while working. But he has those songs on his soul and he recognizes most of them. He even knows how to sing them even if he didn't read the lyrics.

(I'm not Mexican, so please I want Mexican people to make a playlist of which songs he would know. Please I need to know)

He sometimes hears Nico speaking in Italian and for a moment he is there processing because he thought it was Spanish.

(also, this whole thing could apply to Nico and Italian).

[larluce]

I had an idea for a Post canon merthur AU!!

I don't know if you have seen Sakura Card Captor? Well, there is a character called Yukito that has double personality/two alter egos. One that is a regular human being with sunshine personality called Yukito and the other that is a literal Angel/powerful creature that is cold and merciless called Yue. The interesting thing about this character is that, while Yue is aware that Yukito exists and can access to Yukito's memories, Yukito doesn't have the same privilege. Yukito, as far as he knows, he is just a regular teen student that sometimes has mental gaps.

So I wondered, what if Merlin, due to all the trauma he went through or maybe through a spell he did to himself, splited his personality in two so he could handle the long wait for Arthur's return better? One would be Emrys, the most powerful sorcerer that ever lived that also incarnates the worst aspects of him, basically Dark Merlin in all his glory, and the other one would be a Merlin without his memories, ergo, without all his traumas, his personality would be series 1 innocent Merlin, but this Merlin doesn't have magic (or rather he has it, but is blocked) and he thinks he is a common mortal man.

So one night Arthur finally returns and it's Merlin who finds him when he comes out of the lake (Emrys made sure Merlin always lived close to the lake). Of course, he's startled an somewhat scared but a feeling inside him urges him to help this stranger. The man is wearing a knight armor and talks old english for some reason. (Merlin never thought his extra studies in old english that he took for fun would actually come on handy). The man only says nonesense as he helps him out of the lake and takes him to his home thought. Apparently the stranger firmly believes he is King Arthur and that he is Merlin the wizard. He has to repeat him several times that he isn't, but they do share the name though.

Merlin: (gives Arthur a change of clothes and says in old english) Here. These are the biggest clothes I have. They might fit you and I put some blankets on the couch for you to sleep.

Arthur: (doesn't take the clothes and just stares at him)...

Merlin: (thinking he didn't speak the language correctly) I said-

Arthur: (heartbroken) You really don't remember me, do you?

Merlin: (sighs) No. I don't know you. I'm sorry.

Arthur: (almost desperate) You do! I don't know what they did to you or what happened to this place, but I'm going to figure it out. I promise!

Merlin: (smiles) Sure you will. (Thinks) He must have some mental affliction, poor man. (Says as he leaves the clothes on the couch) I'll get you some hot chocolate. (Makes a move to go to the kitchen, but has a sudden headache and faints)

Arthur: Merlin! (Runs and catches him before he hits the floor, worried) Merlin, are you alright? Please, wake up! Merlin (shakes him)

Emrys: (opens his eyes that are glowing gold) My king (his eyes water) You are back. (Craddles Arthur's face)

So Emrys explains his condition to Arthur and also that 1500 years have passed and there's probably a catastrophy coming their way since Arthur is now back and all. Obviously, it's a lot to process for Arthur and he doesn't take it all well at first, but he calms down and accepts everything eventually. Arthur can't help but notice this version of Merlin,despite crying for him at the beginning, seems void of emotion most of the time.

Emrys does a spell on Arthur so he can speak modern english and tells him he will switch back to being Merlin soon.

Emrys: (serious) You can tell him you were delirious due to almost drowning or that you had some mental affliction. He already believes that anyways.

Arthur: I'm not going to lie to him, Merlin.

Emrys: I'm not Merlin. He IS Merlin and he's not going to believe you are King Arthur.

Arthur: Why can't you stay like this?

Emrys: I'm too dangerous when I'm in control for too long. Merlin is harmless and can actually be your friend.

Arthur: You are my friend!

Emrys: (coldly) No, Arthur. I'm your weapon, your protector at best, but nothing more.

Arthur: I don't believe that!

Merlin: Believe what you want. (Turns his back to Arthur)

Arthur: And I won't lie to him either!

Merlin: Tell him what you want (Eyes glowing, about to switch)

Arthur: Mer-I mean Emrys! (Stops him by holding his arm and Enrys turns to him) When will I see you again?

Emrys: When I'm needed or when you call me. Don't abuse though. Merlin might get suspicious if he has too many mental gaps. (Switchs back to Merlin and faints again)

Arthur: (catches him before he hits the floor) This better not become an habit.

Time goes by. Merlin still believes Arthur is crazy, but at least he speaks english now. Merlin does find strange the Arthur has no document, nor he is register in the sistem apparently. Merlin doesn't have the heart to get this "King Arthur" out of his house though, since he clearly has no where to go so Merlin lets him stay. Not for free of course, he makes Arthur help with the cleaning and stuff and doesn't stand for prat behavior when Arthur acts all kingly.

Arthur gets why Emrys told him this Merlin was his Merlin despite him not having his memories or his magic. He is clumsy, he jokes, he smiles, calls him out when he's being mean, but also is there for him when he needs him. Is the Merlin he knew but more... happy. Without burdens of destiny or traumas of the past.

Meanwhile Emrys just appears when they are investigating or when there is danger coming their way, like a magical creature attack or a car Arthur failed to see when he crossed the street. Emrys never smiles or small talks, he just goes to the point and gets the job done. He is dark, but overall he is... broken.

Arthur heart eaches when he realises... he is the one who took Merlin's light. He was the one who broke him.

And that's all I have for now. I don't know how merthur would get together in this AU. What do you think?

[max1461]

Would you say that the distinction between high-context and low-context languages is real? I was skeptical at first, but japanese seems to leave a lot more information implicit in a typical utterance than english.

No such distinction is used (or at least commonplace enough that I have heard of it) in linguistics. If one were to introduce such a distinction, they would have to put forth some way to measure or operationalize "low/high-contextuality"; in the absence of that there's very little I can say about it scientifically.

What I can say is that laymen's subjective impressions about "what different languages are like" are very often more grounded in bias than in fact. There was a good post that went around here a few months ago to the effect of

People everywhere: "[Language I learned in childhood] is so subtle and emotive, whereas [language I learned in adulthood] is so cold and logical".

Often, these subjective impressions then get filtered through the cultural-theorizing-industry and elaborated more and more, becoming more entrenched as "established wisdom" about X or Y language among non-linguists, and in the process getting farther and farther from any real or verifiable truth.

Well anyway, I think the claim that "Japanese is more contextual than English" is probably one of those. Until someone comes up with a real metric for "contexuality", at least, I will probably continue to judge that to be the most reasonable hypothesis. Here are two ways such an impression could have come about:

For English speakers who learn Japanese as adults, things which are left to context in English but not in Japanese will not appear to be "absent" and they won't notice any gaps, whereas things that are left to context in Japanese but not English will strike them as "absent" and they will be more aware of them.

English speakers who speak some Japanese but are not proficient will not in fact be fully familiar with the rules governing the interpretation of utterances, and so things which are actually grammatically determined may appear to rely on nebulous "context".

Here is a salient difference between English and Japanese: in Japanese, any noun phrase may be dropped "when its meaning can be contextually determined". For example, you might say

(1) kinou inu ga nikki tabe-chat-ta! yesterday dog SUBJ diary eat-COMP-PST "yesterday my dog ate my diary!"

(2) wanpaku da yo naa naughty COP ASS TAG "he's sure naughty"

In (1), we see that where English has possessive pronouns ("my"), Japanese doesn't use them. In (2), the noun phrase referring to the dog is dropped entirely. In fact, in both of these sentences, not dropping these things would be considered unnatural and stilted. Overuse of pronouns and NPs is a common marker of non-fluent Japanese as spoken by Westerners. Saying

(3) kinou watashi no inu ga / yesterday me GEN dog SUBJ / watashi no nikki tabe-chat-ta! me GEN diary eat-COMP-PST "yesterday my dog ate my diary!"

instead of (1) would technically not be ungrammatical, but would be markedly foreign sounding and corrected immediately in any intro Japanese class.

However, this already tells you something: the fact that (3) is unambiguously unfelicitous tells you that there are some underlying rules here, it isn't just "drop when you feel it". These rules are called information structure rules, and every language has them. In fact, Japanese explicitly marks information structure in a number of ways that English does not.

Some of the basic rules in Japanese of relevance here (this is a fairly crude analysis and does not account for various things, but it's probably good enough for our purposes) are:

Every discourse has a topic

If no topic is specified, the speaker is by default assumed to be the topic

A non-topic subject may be introduced into the discourse with ga

A noun already in the discourse may be made into the topic with wa

A salient subject already introduced, but not explicitly topicalized with wa, may be implicitly topicalized

Empty NP positions and unmarked possessors should be taken to refer to the topic

Items that are (semantically speaking) likely to be possessed should be interpreted as possessed before they are interpreted as indefinites

These rules are not inviolable, and in particular (5) requires some contextual definition of "salience" and (6) is certainly not this simple in reality (there are often multiple empty NP positions and the full ruleset for interpreting them seems complex; for instance subject positions are favored for topics over object positions and so on), so there is still some amount of combinatorics with referents and syntactic positions that presumably is going on somewhere in speakers' brains or whatever. But the point is that these rules narrow down pretty starkly what interpretations are "reasonable", and the actual role of context in disambiguating between reasonable interpretations is not so vast.

Anyway, using the above rules, it is not so hard to go through (1) and (2) again, and see that only a single reasonable interpretation actually presents itself.

As mentioned, Japanese very often makes information structure explicit using the particles wa, ga, and wo (not mentioned above, but the object equivalent of ga), which is somewhat uncommon among the languages of the world. English, on the other hand, does not do this. English speakers do not drop noun phrases, but they still replace noun phrases with pronouns very readily, and disambiguating pronoun referents uses pragmatic and information structure rules of exactly the same type! Consider, for instance

(4) My boyfriend went on a "boys trip" with Will and Tod last weekend... I told him not to let them pressure him into skinny dipping again. What was up with that anyway?

Think about what you're doing when you assign referents to these pronouns. It's automatic so you don't notice it, but is it unambiguous? Not at all! You know, for instance, that "him" refers to the boyfriend and "them" to Will and Tod, and you know in the second sentence that "that" refers to peer pressure skinny dipping. Some of this (in particular the referent of "that") I think has to be chalked up to pure context; it's the semantics from which we derive the correct assignment. But some of it is mediated by syntactic or information structure rules as well; for instance consider

(5) Jacob went on a "boys trip" with Will and Tod last weekend... I told him not to let them pressure him into skinny dipping again.

We are still able to produce the correct pronoun assignments in this sentence, even though the semantic context which informs us about which one of these people the speaker is most likely the closest to has been removed. This is, again, a product of information structure rules: Jacob is the topic here, and so (by whatever rules operate in English; not identical but not dissimilar to those in Japanese) we infer that "him" refers to Jacob.

Anyway, the point is that all languages make reference to context very freely in matters of interpretation (which is a big part of why language models had to develop implicit world knowledge before they could speak convincingly), and also languages make reference to context in a structured way which can often be described fairly precisely, and which leaves less open to chance and misinterpretation than might initially be assumed. The gulf between English and Japanese is not so large here. It might be the cases that the [pronouns + unmarked topicalization]-English system is more explicit than the [empty NP positions + marked topicalization]-Japanese system, but I don't know. And of course it might be the case that in some other domain of grammar Japanese is more explicit than English. So one must be careful with any broad assertions.

[theladysunami]

As someone who doesn’t speak a lick of Chinese (and really struggles to distinguish tones), I have some question for any fluent Chinese speakers.

It’s a common trope in SVSSS fanfiction where Shen Qingqiu and/or Shang Qinghua use terms for modern technology and the PIDW natives around them are puzzled by it.

What sort of homophones (or near homophones) are there for words like “airplane,” “cell phone,” “television,” “refrigerator,” “microwave,” and so forth? In other words, what might PIDW natives think they’re hearing while trying to listen in on the transmigrators? Are there any (near) homophones that depend on the dialect being spoken?

If the PIDW natives saw the words written, rather than heard them, what meanings might they come up with based on the characters used?

I can guess at some possible interpretations by looking things up in Yabla’s Chinese English Pinyin Dictionary, but they’re rough guesses at best.

I’d be delighted if someone actually knowledgeable could provide some insight on what Mobie-jun and Luo Binghe might think their husbands are talking about when they hear them use words and phrases “from their hometown.”

Edit: Apparently my homophone guesses weren't nearly as terrible as I'd feared, so I'm going to edit this and stick some of them under a read more for fun.

Native speakers please feel free to bully me if I screw up!

Airplane (飞机, fēi jī) "Flying Machine" 飞, fēi: "to fly" ● 机, jī: "machine" Possible Homophones: ● "Flying Chicken" (飞鸡) We definitely need fics where everyone thinks SQQ insists on calling SQH a chicken for some reason.

Cell Phone (手机, shǒu jī) "Hand Machine" 手, shǒu: "hand," "to hold" ● 机, jī: "machine" Possible Homophones: ● "Head/Chief Chicken" (首鸡) ● "Hand Muscle" (手肌) Does Shizun need a hand massage, or miss the "top-dog" chicken he grew up with? Who knows!

Telephone (电话, diàn huà) "Electric Talk" 电, diàn: "electric" ● 话, huà: "language," "speech," "talk" Possible Homophones: ● "Palace Talk" (殿话) ● "Shop Talk" (店话) The most likely guesses seem to be that the phrase has something to do with situational modes of speech. How one speaks in a palace hall, or how one speaks in an inn/shop.

Television (电视, diàn shì) "Electric View" 电, diàn: "electric" ● 视, shì: "to look at," "to regard" Possible Homophones: ● "Court Examination," "Imperial Exam" (殿试) ● "Think on/Remember a Matter," "Worry About Things" (惦事) Why demon lord husbands would pine after imperial exams is anyone's guess.

Refrigerator (冰箱, bīng xiāng) "Ice Box" 冰, bīng: "ice" ● 箱, xiāng: "box" No homophones needed. Meaning is obvious. Huzzah!

Microwave (微波炉, wēi bō lú) "Tiny Wave Stove" 微, wēi: "tiny" ● 波, bō: "wave," "ripple" ● 炉, lú: "stove," "furnace" Possible Homophones: ● "Power Sowing Furnace" (威播炉) No great options here, so they'd likely assume it's some special pill furnace variety.

Car/Automobile (汽车, qì chē) "Steam Vehicle" 汽, qì: "steam," "vapor" ● 车, chē: "vehicle," "chariot" (archaic) Possible Homophones: ● "Qi Chariot" (气车) ● "Near Vehicle" (汔车) A Qi powered chariot sounds pretty neat actually. The phrase could mean something like "whatever vehicle is nearest" though? Or a short range vehicle? (Google translate interpreted 汔车 as "car racing").

Courtesy of @hopingforbrain

airplane's full name can be heard as 'beating (up) flying chickens to the sky'. not in the wanking way, but actually throwing hands with the poultry.

[lolashifts]

SHIFTING ISN'T SPECIAL

please bare with me on this one bc it might be a bit longer than i expected (and excuse my very bad title-naming skills 😭)

in this essay i will try to put down in words exactly what i realised today as i started my first day into reprogramming my mind, something that i’m doing while following reya singh’s method. what is that?

shifting IS easy.

yes, i know everybody says it, but it’s the truth and i’m not telling you this as someone who shifts regularly to her drs, because i don’t (yet!). however, it did just click in my mind why people always say it and mean it. and i feel incredibly stupid for not understanding it waaay earlier than just now, 4 years into my journey.

now, let me walk you through the thought process behind this.

in reya’s 4-day method for reprogramming your mind, she instructs to write a list of your beliefs and non-beliefs. this may sound really silly and kinda useless at first - believe me, i woke up this morning thinking “what exactly am i supposed to do after that?” - but there’s a valid reason for it, which is to help you delete from your mind the idea that shifting is like a superpower that’s simply not for everyone and very hard to reach, when that is not the case at all!

in my own beliefs list, i’ve written “i am capable of shifting” right in between “i can speak english”, “i can write and read” and “i can eat --” (and some other things like “i can’t eat gluten”, bc i have celiac disease, “i can dream”, we all do! and “i can lucid dream”). you see where i’m going with this? i’m putting shifting in the same category as things we all normally do, that we sometimes don’t even think about doing since they’re such a natural activity. to this list i could add “i can breathe”, because we do it automatically, without even realising unless we focus on it. the same can be said for drinking or eating really, if you’re angry or thirsty you just go and get whatever pleases you the most and not dwell on it.

in the non-beliefs list, i’ve written obvious things like santa and the easter bunny (which isn’t common here in italy tbf but yeah) and sentences like “i can’t swim”, “i can’t draw”, “i can’t eat strawberries” and in between them also “i don’t fear shifting”. here, the point is that all these listed beliefs are stuff i know for a fact to be false: i can swim perfectly, i am an artist and i love strawberries + i’m not allergic to them or anything. by placing shifting there, i'm stating that just like i KNOW i can swim or whatever, i also KNOW i'm not scared of shifting.

you’re literally gaslighting your subconscious mind into believing what is real for a fact and what isn’t.

after writing down this list, which can be done on paper just like on your preferred device, i reread everything twice explaining to myself why i chose these things and why they are beliefs or not. that’s how i realised that shifting is easy. when people talk about it “clicking” they weren’t lying!

shifting isn’t special, this is what the list thing tries to prove you. it’s not special because, just like breathing and eating and reading, we do it subconsciously everyday. take your own first language: you speak it naturally without having to doubt it, and if you know a second language well enough like i know english for instance (my mother-tongue is italian) then you can even start talking to yourself and think in that language without having to search up translations.

what’s the difference with shifting then?

the difference is that shifting hasn’t been taught to us in the same way as a language has been, all throughout school. the same thing goes for reading and writing: we read and write naturally because we’ve been taught how to when we were young and it’s now engraved in our brains, just like with learning our first language, which is something we normally do thanks to our teachers, our families and the people around us, of course. this doesn’t happen with shifting in most cases, as we all know, which means it’s normal for it to take a bit to grasp as a concept and existing thing/activity. it’s natural, most of us human beings just don’t know about it, nor that we’re capable of doing it.

this is why i said it’s not special: just like breathing, everybody can do it (and so do you)!

going back to the non-beliefs list; i should also add that as a society we usually are taught what to believe in from a young age, and specifically what is believed to be a fantasy, a dream, or something real. as grown-ups, though, we have the right to believe in whatever we want, like shifting. as a realistic person, i understand that some people may have a hard time believing something as great as shifting could be true, because it genuinely doesn’t sound like it! so yes, this is also a factor that can and does make it harder for someone to trust their guts and expect to wake up somewhere that’s only fictional here.

shifting clicks for everybody at different times, but i hope this post will help some of you here understand it better and know that what more experienced shifters say always has a meaning, you just need the time to properly reflect on it to get it!

when it clicked for me a few hours ago i felt a huge rush of adrenaline and happiness bc yes, i can actually shift. i’m just overcomplicating it for no reason and so many of you are doing the same!

it’s okay though, we’ll all get there <3

(psa: if you saw any grammar mistakes or anything NO YOU DIDN'T and also please don't mind if this rant doesn't sound logical, i tried my best to explain myself like i wanted to 🥲)

[vidavalor]

Ngk.

Yes, this is meta on ngk. I know, right? Possible origins and other layers of meaning? Ngk.

When Crowley uses it, "ngk", as we know, is the sound of a very clever word nerd just being so floored, confused, overwhelmed, or otherwise incapable of speech that we might think that what he says sounds like a bunch of random letters. It comes out like a curse at times... or a !!!!!... or it would be a squeak of frustration, if only his voice weren't so deliciously low. People read it as the verbal equivalent of a short keysmash and, emotionally? It probably is, but... those letters are not at all random.

The reasons why these letters were chosen are so. very. Crowley. that I think you'll find that the character's (and Pratchett's) interesting word kink might, as Mrs. Sandwich would say, put a smile on your face. 😊

I am pretty sure that ngk is two, different but interconnected, word history jokes related to the Greek language. Why the Greek language? Because it, along with Latin, is at the core of basically every language that etymologists refer to as being part of the Indo-European language family, which is pretty much every language of European countries, the Persian Plateau (sometimes referred to as the Iranian Plateau), and the northern Indian subcontinent. If you ever do word history research on words in English or Indo-European languages, it won't take you longer than two minutes to start finding your way back to the Greek roots for many of the words you look up. Greek is both a language in its own right and also the part of the origin story of words in dozens of other languages. Greek is at the core of the etymology-inspired figurative language in Good Omens and in Terry Pratchett's Discworld novels.

Because Greek has existed as language for literal ages and is so foundational to the study of other languages, etymologists needed a way to differentiate between the before and after period of big change in the Greek language.

Known to date, there really was one, massive shift that the language underwent over a period that has been narrowed down but the exact time and cause is debated. The most common theory is that it is related to The Fall of Constantinople and the collapse of the Byzantine Empire. The point is that, during this semi-disputed period of time, Greek underwent some big shifts that are, by and large, what differentiate between what we'd call "Ancient Greek" when looking at word history and how Greek has been written and spoken since through today. It's all the same language but it's just shifted so much, especially during this one period, that there are differences in it that people looking at word history need to be aware of when looking at the origins of words versus what things might mean or how they might be spoken in Greek in our current times.

In order to do that, etymologists created the term "New Greek" to mean Greek as spoken after this period of massive change to differentiate it from the Greek of more ancient Greece. NGK or ngk is the etymology world's acronym for "New Greek." Making this even more confusing? At some point in the last couple of decades, etymologists began calling "New Greek" by a different name-- "Modern Greek"-- but it means the same thing and, from what of it I've seen, they have largely kept the same ngk acronym. (The change to "Modern Greek" happened after Good Omens was first published.)

So, the first thing of the two things that ngk is? It's Crowley being so speechless or over everything that he's like argh, it's all fucking New Greek. He's cursing or exclaiming in frustration using the acronym for the shift in languages that underpins all of the languages he most frequently speaks, the evolution of which he lived through. Even word-nerdy poets have moments of FUCK WORDS and that appears to be one level of what ngk is. This also might be a little joke as well on the controversial old idiom that exists in different forms throughout different languages-- "it's all Greek to me"-- that was popularized in Shakespeare's Julius Caesar. For more on that, I'd refer you to this really interesting Atlas Obscura article on the idiom.

Ok, so, that's the first of the two Greek-related things that ngk is. Let's look at the other one so you can see just how great a Crowley joke this...

While ngk is an acronym, it also, separately, happens to be a double consonant sound in Greek. Do not worry if it's been awhile since you studied a language, I will simplify. 😊

In English, a double consonant is when a consonant appears twice in a row in a word, like the two times in a row the letter l appears in the word balloon. In Greek, it's a different thing. A double consonant in Greek is a combination of two consonants that make one, collective sound together. Greek double consonants are closest to (if not exactly equivalent to) what is called a digraph in English phonics, which is the sound made by two letters commonly put together, like sh, qu, ch, etc. When you were first learning English, you were taught things like how sh makes a "shh" sound, in addition to learning the individual letters of the alphabet, right? That's kind of what some double consonants are like in Greek.

One of the Greek double consonants is the combination of the letters gamma + kappa in the Greek alphabet. When you say the double consonant of gamma + kappa aloud?

You are saying: "Ngk."

The letter gamma here in this double consonant is pronounced a little differently than usual and has what's known as the "gamma nasal" quality that causes it to be pronounced like "ng." Kappa here is pronounced and written like the English letter k, for which it is the direct ancestor. The pronunciation of the gamma + kappa double consonant is the sound that Crowley says in the bandstand in S1.

So, Crowley is actually cursing/exclaiming out a double consonant of the Greek alphabet...

Why? And why this one, when there are a bunch?

Start by checking out how the uppercase and lowercase letters for both gamma and kappa are written below:

Uppercase gamma is the crank part of a crank tool. Lowercase gamma is the origin of the English letter y-- homophone: the signature word of questions: why?

Gamma is a term used all over the place in math and science, including gamma rays from electromagnetism and gamma waves, observable neural movement that is connected in the mind to large-scale, high-level cognitive activity, often related to memory, perception, creativity, and attention. These are also some of the brain waves most impacted by mental health issues and that are also some of the most affected by things like meditation.

Gamma is also a Greek word for the camel. (Lest you think that Good Omens forgot a rideable animal for their never-ending horses/transportation euphemism fiesta... found the missing camel! 😂) The word gamut also comes from gamma and originally referred to music-- the entirety of the musical scale-- but now you can say "runs the gamut" about anything in a way that means the same thing as the idiom "from soup to nuts"-- just everything, from beginning to end. From creation to completion and back to the start again.

Kappa has ties to some Crowley-related science and spirituality, such as The Kappa Effect, which is a theory explaining how the mind's perception of distance can affect its perception of how much time has passed. In early Buddhist scriptures written in Pali, a kappa-- referred to as a kalpa in later writings-- refers to a very long period of time between the creation and the destruction/recreation of a world or universe and related to the lifetime of that world or universe.

So, we have memory, time, the creation of the universe, crank tools, asking questions... these letters are turning into a whole list of Crowley-related things, yeah? There's more...

Kappa is written in both cases like the letter k-- homophones: 'kay (as in, ok/okay) and cay.

The etymology of ok is actually an example of a briefly-existing cant vocabulary, which... heyyyy. That feels relevant, yeah? 😲

In the late 1830s, a (very limited) cant vocabulary emerged in New England that created new slang out of making acronyms out of intentionally misspelled existing phrases. It is thought to have started or been encouraged by a Boston Morning Post article that mocked a competing newspaper by saying it was spelling things the way its rival did-- spelling "all correct" as "oll korrect." A lot of issues of newspapers from this time period no longer exist so the exact issue that caused this paper to troll its rival is unknown. There is some speculation that it might have been something of a class warfare battle being played out between papers who appealed to different groups of people, given that the mocking "oll korrect" sounds, when spoken aloud, to be of the same pronunciation quirks of the 'pahk the kah in hahvahd yahd' variety of Boston accent.

"Ok" is believed to have originated as an abbreviation of "oll korrect." This article either prompted-- or was an example of-- a cant vocabulary that did a rare thing-- united Boston and New York lol-- for a little while in the late 1830s. There were other abbreviations used as words like this, for which you had to understand one of Crowley's favorite word things-- homophony-- and know the pattern to understand. KG meant "no go", off of the homophonic "know go," for example.

Ngk, like ok and these other words, is an abbreviation being used as a a word. Not of one that's misspelled but one that is from the cant vocab of etymology nerds, making it fun in an especially meta sort of way.

The most famous of these phrases from this late 1830s Boston/New York cant-- and the only one to survive-- is "ok", which etymologists think was probably was helped to remain by being picked up and used in President Martin Van Buren's failed reelection bid in 1840.

As you can probably tell from the fact that I said that it was used in a Presidential campaign, the cant vocabulary spilled into the mainstream and, so, lost relevancy as it was no longer something that not everyone understood. "Ok" was kind of like the "brat" of the 1840 U.S. presidential campaign, in some ways? Once everyone got the joke, people still used it in the mainstream because it was a quick thing to say or write as an affirmative but its subversion was lost by its meaning becoming commonly understood.

While this 1830s cant vocab was *much* smaller, the best anyone can tell-- more like a handful of phrases and not much more-- it's kind of similar to Polari, in terms of the language burning out but leaving lingering words in mainstream English.

Ok, so the other word from kappa: cay.

A cay is a low island. It has a synonym-- one definition of the word key (Key Largo, The Florida Keys, etc.). So, we have a low island-- the use of the beach/the sea/fish/bodies of water as figurative language for sex in Good Omens-- and its also the word that is a key. Keys you use to start engines to drive and also to unlock language. A key is the necessary component to interpreting hidden language and here's one of the keys/clues to taking apart the use of language in Good Omens right here in ngk.

Kappa is from the Phonenician kaph, which meant the hollow of the hand (the palm) when it is forming a cup shape... as in when praying/meditating or when creating or presenting something...

...and the sole (homophone: soul) of the foot-- its arch, in particular. Arch, alternative meaning: playful, knowing, dry teasing.

In other words, kappa, etymologically, is the movement of the hands and feet-- it's living on Earth. It's using the hands to make magic and art, to worship and give to others. It's the the cobbler walking the Earth-- living life.

Crowley's story is the double consonant of gamma+kappa. Not just the angel he was and his life on Earth since his fall but how they're really all intermixed into one person because he's always been the one person. Ngk is who he is and that is why, of all the possible sounds, he says this one.

While it was both an acronym and a sound prior to the novel, ngk was, to the best of my knowledge, not written as a word in its own right prior to the publication of Good Omens. Crowley's exclamations are the first utterances of ngk as a word and our understanding of what it means comes from the context of when and how he uses it in the novel and in the series. In that way, ngk is Good Omens' own contribution to language evolution.

Terry Pratchett, who wrote his Discworld novels and Good Omens with etymology-based figurative language, made word history such a big part of Good Omens that he had the book itself contribute to language evolution by having it birth a word in Crowley's ngk.

From interpreting its meaning by the context of how Crowley uses it... from researching from where this grouping of three letters as a word could have originated... from incorporating the word into fan art and fanfic... and from using it amongst ourselves in real life and explaining it to other people if they ask for the last couple of decades?

We've all been collectively helping Terry Pratchett contribute a new word to the English language.

Let's get it into the dictionaries next. 😊

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Someone might have already asked your opinion on this but why do think Rollo became so popular in Japan? B/c I definitely think part of it is because he's voiced by Hiroshi Kamiya

Apart from having a popular VA, I believe it’s also in part because Japan has a “quiet” fandom culture. Meanwhile in the west, it’s more common to decry or brand dark (or even just potentially dark) content as problematic or to be skeptical of them; we saw this play out when Rollo was first announced in JP: Japanese fans were very excited for him whereas English speaking fans were hesitant to embrace him and made accusations about his character before he even had any real screen time. It’s taken a lot longer for English speaking fans to warm up (yes that was a pun) to him. In that sense, JP fans had more initial positive or at least more open-minded) exposure to him, meaning more of a meaningful bond was able to be established.

Another part of it is also his “aesthetic”. From what I’ve been told, religious imagery is prominent in Japanese pop culture. The fact that there are parallels to it in Rollo’s design and character probably has some kind of effect on how he’s viewed. There’s of course also religious imagery in Western pop culture, but it tends to have a more mixed reception, especially among younger members of the audience.

Additionally, Disney villains are super popular over in Japan (yes, even more popular than in the West). Tokyo Disney even has a recurring Halloween event exclusive to them (Disney Villain Recruiters) where they have minions of villains go around trying to recruit park guests to their cause. The Hunchback of Notre Dame movie is also extremely big over there (this is according to my sources, who have actually lived there and/or visited Japan). So Rollo, being a morally grey pretty boy twisted from one of the most well-known Disney villains… yeah, I can see why he’s beloved.

(I want to stress this though: the JP fans like Rollo not because they think he’s the same as Frollo, and nor does liking either character mean that JP fans support what they stand for. They just like the interpretation and reimagining that is Rollo; they still treat Rollo like his own character and can still acknowledge his faults.)

[thelingodingo]

Haikyuu Characters' Informal & Formal Speech

Something I find interesting about different languages and cultures regarding sociolinguistics is the entire idea of formality. Of course, there are ways to sound more formal/polite in English and ways to sound more informal/rude depending on word choice (synonyms). But with a language such as Japanese, it's the grammatical structure itself (verb endings, vocab) that changes to convey varying levels of formality.

An example would be:

大丈夫? (informal) vs 大丈夫ですか？(formal) = Are you ok?

daijoubu vs daijoubudesuka

これは本だ (informal) vs これは本です (formal) = This is a book.

korewahonda vs korewahondesu

In a school setting, the younger grades (kohai) will use formal speech with the older grades (senpai) as well as teachers: meaning 1st years will be formal to 2nd and 3rd years, 2nd years will be informal to 1st years but formal to 3rd years, and 3rd years can be informal to both 1st and 2nd years.

This is easily shown in basically any anime but this post will focus on Haikyuu since it's the one I'm most familiar with.

Karasuno: Kageyama and Tsukishima definitely hold a very high level of politeness towards their senpai as they always speak formally towards them and also always call them "full surname-san" (Azumane-san instead of Asahi-san, Sugawara-san instead of Suga-san, Sawamura-san instead of Daichi-san, Nishinoya-san instead of Noya-san). It makes sense for them since in general their personalities are quite strict and rigid. Hinata also speaks formally to his senpai but calls them by their more usual names (Daichi-san, Suga-san, etc) and he tends to forget to speak formally out of sheer excitement (not because he's trying to be rude) so he ends up adding on the formal desu copula to quickly change his informal sentence to be formal at the last second. You might think that Tanaka and Nishinoya are pretty relaxed when it comes to formalities due to their crasser personalities but I would actually say it's more the opposite. They're both characters that really like upholding the entire senpai-kohai relationship and it shows in that they are always respectful to the 3rd years and use formal speech (it's also shown in how they both loveee being called senpai and specifically Nishinoya's relationship with Asahi). They still call the 3rd years by their more common names so they aren't as rigid as Tsukki and Kageyama when it comes to names though. The scenes in season 1 when Noya and Asahi were fighting (specifically the storage room fight) were surprising in particular due to Noya changing to informal speech while arguing with Asahi (his senpai).

some other random formalities I've noticed in the other characters: as mentioned in the anime, Kenma doesn't like any of that hierarchy stuff which is why Hinata is able to continue comfortably speaking informally to him even though Kenma is a senpai. The shock and immediate apology of Hinata when he finds out Kenma is older than him is sensible in the cultural context since there are many people who would get quite offended and angry if a kohai were to be speaking informally towards them. Although Kenma is never shown directly talking to any 3rd years (other than Kuroo, which he speaks informally to since they're childhood friends), I assume he would still speak formally since even though he doesn't find formal speech necessary he would still be aware that others would care about it. When it comes to Mad Dog, a small part of me expected him to be completely informal to everyone since those kind of characters are usually like that in anime but he still keeps a pretty formal tone when talking to his senpais which pleasantly surprised me. As far as I remember watching season 4, I don't think the Miya twins use formal speech when talking to Aran. They don't call him Aran-san or anything either, just Aran-kun, which could be another example of childhood friends not needing formalities even with the age gap.

EDIT: i just remembered that Kageyama is so damn polite that he doesn't even differentiate between the Miya twins by their first names, he calls them both "Miya-san"!

If anybody wants a particular character/school to be discussed in detail then just send me an ask and I'll try!

side note: this post isn't proofread so if theres any mistakes or corrections in the info please tell me (✿◠‿◠)

[wileys-russo]

head over (tar) heels II a.russo x reader

this one goes out to my favourite era (besides boyfriend less ofc) PSA: I’ve never been to an american college :)

head over (tar) heels II a.russo x reader 4.7k words

the first interaction.

"shit." alessia mumbled to herself. anxiously chewing her bottom lip she held the campus map at eye line, tilting it to the side and squinting her eyes as if that might help her magically understand where she needed to go.

lotte and lois having a different class together had already taken off leaving alessia to stumble her way around hopelessly lost, attempting to navigate her way to geology.

the english girl was still relatively new and though given a quick tour on her first day, her american team mates seeming nice enough, she'd hardly had more than a couple rapid fire training sessions to get to know them and had no clue if they shared any classes in common.

homesickness had also meant that most of her spare time where she could have been putting more effort into getting to know them, had been instead consumed with constant phone calls back home, trying to wrap her head around the time difference and gazing longingly at photos of her friends and family. sharp pains shooting through her chest she repeatedly ticked over if such a huge decision had actually been the right one.

quickly checking the time on her phone alessia's stomach tightened into a knot, the blonde looking around in fear as more and more students disappeared into buildings and strode off confidently in all directions. alessia looked on with a sense of envy, her peers clearly knowing where they needed to go.

swallowing her panic alessia took a deep breath to re-ground before shoving the map into her bag, desperate for a solution. spotting a girl who looked potentially around her own age alessia mumbled herself some encouragement before hurrying off after the stranger. 

"uh, excuse me!" she called out, panic resurfacing when the girl either heard and ignored her, or had no clue alessia was even actually speaking to her.

then again why would she respond,  a critical element needed to signal you were actually being spoken to was someone knowing and calling out your name.

"sorry, excuse me." alessia reached the stranger, tapping her gently on the shoulder as the girl jumped in surprise, turning quickly and pulling an earphone out.

nice going less, pick someone who can't hear you and then startle her like a creep.

"yes?" you questioned raising an eyebrow expectantly, caught more off guard by the glowing blue orbs you'd now locked eyes with than the actual tap on your shoulder.

"i'm really sorry to bother you but i'm horrible with directions, would you happen to know where chapman hall is?" alessia asked nervously, the wind knocked right out of her chest at the sheer beauty of the girl standing in front of her.

your face softened at the obvious foreign accent and you nodded. "which building are you looking for?" you asked politely, pulling out your other earphone and tucking your phone away into the pocket of your hoodie. 

"uh 803 I think."

"geology with smith?" you guessed and alessias eyebrows furrowed, the taller of the two nodding in surprise. "same, we can go together." you sent the girl a dazzlingly reassuring smile, alessia's stomach doing back flips at the sight.

"god i thought i was never going to find it. thank you so much!" alessia sighed in relief, returning you a smile as the two of you set off, now in the right direction. 

(which had in fact been the opposite that alessia was originally headed)

 "so, british?" you questioned, cringing at yourself for the clearly obvious statement.

"alessia, actually." the blonde beside you joked, sending you a cheeky grin as she held out her hand, the italian unsure where her sudden boost of confidence had appeared from. "y/n, american." you shook her hand, the two of you pausing at your words before laughing, conversation flowing easily as you both made your way across campus.

"do you want me to properly show you around sometime? the place is huge but once you get settled you'll be an expert in no time!" you offered kindly, alessia having just finished telling you about what had brought her here in the first place, how attentive and interested you seemed in her words not lost on her.

"yeah actually that would be great. thanks!"

the realization.

"-and i think she's coming to the game on the weekend with her friends! though i told her she didn't have to cause its an away match and I know she has a load of assignments. but she's so smart she hardly even has to try, unlike me. i swear without her notes i'm gonna fail geology. but who even needs geology!" alessia rambled on, so focused packing her kit bag for an early training session tomorrow she missed the knowing smirk exchanged between her english team mates. 

"so less tell us exactly when are you asking her out then?" lois asked quite casually, alessia tripping and falling head first into her bag she was so caught off guard at the question, lotte shooting up to help the blonde back to her feet. 

"what?" alessia spluttered out, still in a state of shock as she peeled away the socks from her face.

"less, mate. you clearly like the girl, just ask her out!" lotte bumped her team mates shoulder supportively before sitting back down on the bed beside lois who nodded eagerly in agreement.

"i do not! we're just friends, don't make it weird." alessia mumbled, busying herself with unpacking and refolding her already neatly folded training kit.

"less, it's okay if you do like her. she's all you talk about half the time! plus the way your face lights up whenever she's around, it's a special thing to see." lotte tried again, smiling reassuringly at the younger girl who frowned sliding down onto the floor, uniform still in her hands as her head softly thumped back against her mattress of the bed behind her.

"her face lights up too! i don't think it's one sided. the two of you hang out all the time, sometimes it feels like you prefer her company over your own teammates!" lois teased with a grin, alessia's cheeks flushing a rosy pink as she shoved her uniform back into her bag, pulling her knees to her chest with a troubled sigh.

"how do you even know when you like someone...like that. not to say i do like her!" alessia was quick to correct, pointing a finger sternly toward the girls across from her who nodded. "well, when you're around her, you feel happy right?" lois started, alessia nodding, eyebrows still knitted into a frown.

"i feel like that when i see any of my friends lois." alessia answered bluntly, lois looking toward lotte to continue, the girl being the one everyone would go to for any sort of advice, wise beyond her years.

"when you guys aren't together, do you still speak? like message and stuff a lot of the time?" lotte questioned as alessia nodded in confirmation. "and when you aren't together, do you miss her? wish you were still hanging out?" alessia gave yet another nod at the question, this one a little more hesitant.

"what's something you like about her?" "well she's really really kind, and passionate, and she actually listens when someone speaks. like properly invested in the conversation, makes her easy to talk to." alessia answered honestly, eyes moving to gaze up towards the roof as she crossed her arms over her chest, legs thumping back down to the ground.

"okay, now I just want you to tell me the first thing that pops into your head yeah?" lotte encouraged softly, alessia nodding along in understanding, eyes still trained toward the roof.

"how do you feel around her? other than happy." "i don't know, sort of light headed i guess?" alessia answered with a small frown and an uncertain shrug.

"what's her favourite colour?" "green, like a forest green."

"biggest strength?" "she reads what people need really well."

"what's her major?" "social science."

"what's her first class tomorrow?" "ethics."

"first thing you notice about her?" "smile."

"thing you miss when she isn't there?" "her laugh."

"and where would you like to kiss her?" "on the lips."

a sudden somewhat suffocating silence filled the small dorm room. a beat of time passed before alessia jolted upright, eyes widening in shock as she registered how casually the last answer had slipped out, lotte sending her a knowing smile. 

"jesus christ lot if this football thing doesn't work out, you could be like a love expert or something..." lois spluttered out as she looked to the girl beside her in awe who simply shrugged.

"and that less is how you know you like someone."

the first kiss.

"-and that second goal what a rocket! poor keeper never stood a chance you just booted it!" you rambled excitedly, alessia laying down on her bed watching you reenact the goal with a soft smile, giggling as you kicked a throw pillow across the floor.

just over a month had passed now since the realization that alessia did in fact like you a lot more than she thought, and not as just a close friend. ever since then her feelings toward you seemed to grow more by the day, and in turn she began to pay closer attention to all of the small habits and traits that made you you.

like the way the corner of your eyes would crinkle when you smiled, tiny dimples appearing in each cheek. or the way you'd always put your hand over your mouth when you laughed, and need to be reminded to breathe in amongst your giggles, the tips of your ears flushing bright red.

or the way the tip of your tongue would poke through the small gap in your teeth when you concentrated, biting down on your bottom lip with a confused frown when stuck on a particularly hard question.

the way you'd frequently go on passionate tangents about all sorts of things, only stopping yourself from speaking once you realized you were on a tangent, your cheeks flushing rosy pink and a hasty apology issued shortly after, which alessia made sure to consistently promise you wasn't needed.

alessia knew your regular coffee order off by heart, often meeting you before or after class with the iced drink at the ready, stomach doing cartwheels at the way your eyes lit up every time she would.

the way you paid close attention when she explained the actual rules of football to you after the first time you came to watch one of her games, asking her all the right questions and seeming genuinely interested in her answers. your determined commitment to best understand what was her passion in life only making alessia grow more fond of you.

it spurred her on to play her best football when she knew you were in the crowd watching. which was practically every game you could, even dragging your friends to accompany you most of the time.

alessia had even picked up the habit of a regular celebration whenever she scored, something she'd never bothered with at any other time in her career, adoring how it meant she could hear your laughter ring out across the field at the goofy pose. the blonde well aware she was embarrassing herself, that came second to the sense of pride and satisfaction felt in making you smile.

by nature you'd always been quite an affectionate person around your friends, growing up in a family and a household where it lacked meant you sought physical touch amongst others. so it wasn't uncommon for your legs to be sprawled across alessia's lap, or for you to reach for her hand and mess around with her fingers during quiet lapses in conversation. 

nor was it uncommon for alessia's arm to be draped comfortably across the back of your shoulder blades, or your hands messing around with her hair as her head laid in your lap. you could easily spend hours doing and undoing tiny plaits in her long blonde locks to keep yourself occupied whilst helping the english girl study.

which unbeknownst to you, did quite the opposite as alessia's heart would hammer away in her chest at your touch. letters jumbled with one another as she attempted to read through your notes, often requesting you read them to her given that she couldn't focus on anything else but you.

but then came her lack of confidence to actually confess any of these feelings to you. the strikers painstakingly obvious swooning and doing all she could to gain your attention and affections was easily noticed by her teammates and friends, obvious to everyone it seemed but to you.

"okay my celebration did not look like that!" alessia defended herself as you broke out into a victory dance, kicking the throw pillow into alessia's closet which had become your decided temporary goal. "oh but it did, I even got it on video." you grinned, collapsing beside the older girl on her bed and pulling out your phone. clicking into the video it did indeed confirm alessia's fears, she looked like her dad when he had one too many and busted a move.

"delete that right now! there needs to be not a shred of evidence." alessia shook her head, reaching for your phone as you quickly clicked it off. "absolutely not." you grinned with a firm shake of your head.

"it's going right into my 'things to blackmail alessia with once she's a big famous soccer player' folder." you teased, the taller girl rolling her eyes.

"football." she corrected, squeezing at your cheeks as you playfully smacked away her hands. "soccer." you argued in the same mocking tone, poking at her nose. "one last chance to say it's football." alessia warned, your forehead creasing in confusion. "or wha-" you didn't even have time to finish your sentence before the question was answered for you, the english girls slender fingers digging into your side.

"lessi!" you squealed, wriggling and bucking your body trying to evade her but it was a fruitless task given the small king single bed you were both occupying. meaning very minimal space was available for you to move away from her without falling down to the floor.

"okay okay okay, football!" you all but yelled, shoving the striker away from you as you sunk into the mattress, chest heaving up and down struggling to catch your breath back. "I hate you." you wheezed out, kicking at her as your arm fell to cover your flushed face.

"no you don't, you could never." alessia teased with a grin, tugging your arm off of your face causing you to roll onto your side, the two of you now in very close proximity. seeing you so up close only made alessia's heart harder and faster in her chest, close enough for her to count the freckles that dotted across your tanned face, all thanks to the harsh carolina sun.

time seemed to slow as alessia shamelessly stared, her watchful gaze scanning across all of the tiny features which made you, well you. her eyes then met yours as if asking permission she lent in a tiny bit to test the waters, and when you didn't immediately recoil her body took over, silencing the screaming doubts and alarm bells ringing loudly in her head.

her warm lips met with yours, the kiss short but sweet as she pulled away eyes widening in shock at what she'd just done, reality had set in. but before she could utter out the apology which was stuck in her throat, you spoke first.

"finally russo, I've been waiting for you to do that." "what!"

meeting her family.

"gio promise me that you won't be a dick!" alessia sternly warned her older brother, the boy having come to visit and stay with her for a few weeks amid his travels. "less please. i'll be on my best behavior, scouts honor!" the older italian smiled charmingly, the two of them crammed into the makeshift campus bar, everyone having gathered together to watch one of the largest basketball matches of the college season against their rival school Duke.

"that's her over there." lotte interrupted, pointing you out where you sat at a table toward the back surrounded by your own group of friends, laughing at something one of them had said. "mum was right she is gorgeous. what's she dating you for?" gio teased, staring at his younger sister whose face twisted into a glare, punching his arm at the comment.

"well, best not waste time then!" gio clapped his sister on the back, grabbing a beer he was offered before striding off in your direction, alessia doing the same and hurrying after him, lotte and some of her other team mates in tow. "lessi, hi!" you cheered happily as you spotted her, grinning as you stared up towards the taller girl whose nerves melted away somewhat at the sight, noticing you were clearly already a little tipsy.

greeting your friends she exchanged hugs with some of them she knew quite well, introducing her brother as lotte pulled you aside and into a hug, making your own way around greeting alessia's friends as the two groups merged into one, everyone hollering in anticipation as the buzzer sounded and the game commenced on the tv's scattered around the room.

eventually, after you'd finished making your rounds with your girlfriends team mates you ended up in front of her brother. alessia's world then suddenly seemed to freeze, stuck temporarily in conversation with a few of her friends across the other side of the table, contemplating quite literally jumping over it to come to your aid.

but it seemed that wasn't necessary as with only a few words exchanged between you and her brother both parties laughed and gio pulled you into a friendly hug, sitting down and busying you in conversation as alessia let out a deep exhale she hadn't realized she was even holding in.

"see, worried your pretty little head off for nothing. it's fine! relax and have a drink, lets go Heels!" lotte finished with a scream, holding up her beer as everyone around her echoed the chant, raising their own drinks in cheers.

~

"i think i might have a new favourite russo now, sorry babe." you later teased the blonde, sat on her lap as the game counted down its final minutes, her arms wrapped tightly around your torso.

"well you're only human." gio winked, clinking his beer against yours as alessia gently pinched at your thigh for the comment, her jacket draped around your shoulders.

suddenly the bar exploded into an electric scream as the final buzzer sounded, signaling that UNC had won. it was the first time you'd conquered your rivals in two years you happily informed gio, who looked around in confusion as the bar suddenly emptied, everyone running out hollering and cheering in packs.

"it's a campus tradition, everyone runs onto main street and they start a bonfire!" one of alessia's team mates informed as the table all stood to their feet, alessia making sure to keep a tight hold on your hand as both of you were hustled out of the bar and into the crisp autumn air by the large horde of drunken fans.

"this is the weirdest tradition ever. all of this over a college basketball game!" gio laughed in disbelief as he filmed the chaos interrupting around you all, him and lotte running alongside you and alessia as cheers and singing broke out amongst the huge crowd of college students sprinting wildly in all directions.

"quick, let's go Heels!" lotte drunkenly shouted at the top of her lungs, yourself joining in with her as you dropped your girlfriends hand, launching yourself onto lotte as the girl sprinted off with you in a piggyback.

"be careful please!" alessia shouted after the two of you with a face splitting grin, cheeks flushed rose pink, a combination of the alcohol she'd consumed and the sudden temperature change now standing outdoors.

"i've never seen you like this." gio smiled toward his younger sister, the two of them now pushing their way through the crowd. "what do you mean?" alessia laughed, glancing over at him before standing up on tippy toes to try and spot you or lotte. 

"like this. so happy and care free, grinning like a bloody cheshire cat. we were a bit worried you'd come running right back home with all the calls after you first left, but then they stopped and now i think i can somewhat see why." gio laughed, nodding toward where the taller boy could see you and lotte, having linked up with some more of your friends just a little way deeper into the crowd.

"she's not the only reason i like it here!" alessia's cheeks deepened in color, catching onto what her brother was insinuating. "no but she contributes to it, and that's not something you've had before. it's nice!" gio smiled sincerely, alessia wrapping him into a hug. 

"but luca and I do have a bet going on how long it'll be before she realises she's out of your league and moves onto someone else. so if you could accelerate that to...before january, i'd be ten pound richer!" her brother smirked, alessia shaking her head and shoving him away playfully as he messed up her hair.

"you couldn't just let us have a lovely moment, could you?" "that's not what brother's are for, you should have learnt that by now."

pre match traditions.

"there, all done." you bent down to peck your girlfriends cheek as you finished braiding her hair. 

seeing her struggle and offering to do it once early on in your friendship had quickly turned into it being a match day tradition between the two of you, alessia quite superstitious when it came to big games.

and today, her junior championship final, was the big game.

"thank you. checklist?" the older girl sighed, pushing herself up using your knees as leverage from where she sat between your legs on the floor, grabbing her kit bag.

"socks, shin guards, boots, water bottle, finger tape, spare socks, chewing gum, deodorant, perfume, dry shampoo, back up water bottle, yellow gatorade, protein bar." you ticked off using your fingers, alessia humming in confirmation at each object as she located it, zipping her bag up and placing it back on your floor.

"what if i miss a sitter and it's my fault we lose?" the blonde collapsed onto her back on the bed beside you, burying her face in her hands. "you won't. it's okay to be nervous but with soccer you can't afford to dwell on all the what if's...a certain little birdy told me that." you gently pried the girls hands away, interlocking your fingers and pressing a gentle kiss to the pad of her thumb.

"football." alessia corrected, unable to help the smile that grew on her face at your words. "come here." the striker was quick to pull you on top of her, your legs straddling her hips as you leant your forehead against hers. "hi." you smiled sweetly, pecking her lips and attempting to sit up but a strong pair of arms wrapped around your back, pressing your body tightly against the one beneath you.

"give me a proper kiss." the older girl whined, lip jutting out into a pout as you rolled your eyes but obliged none the less, quickly pulling away as you felt her tongue slip into your mouth.

"no. you need to go soon! it's almost 3." you giggled, squeezing your girlfriends cheeks before unwrapping her arms from around you and sitting up.

"but it's a pre match tradition that you make out with me, so..." alessia grinned, hands clawing needily at her spare jersey which hung off your smaller frame, attempting to pull you back down.

"which is why we've already made out, twice now to be exact. you need to go! baby i'm not being picked on by your teammates as the reason you're late for warm ups, again." you rolled your eyes, grabbing the girls wandering hands as they slipped up the inside of your shirt, nails scratching gently against your bare skin.

"they know full well if they tried to pick on you they'd have me to deal with." alessia rolled her eyes, hands coming to rest on your bare thighs sat either side of her. "ooo so scary." you mocked with a teasing grin placing your own hands on her cheeks, thumbs softly caressing her jaw as you leant down and stole another quick kiss before rolling off of her.

"go!" you pointed sternly towards your door, alessia standing to her feet with an over dramatic groan. "fine!"

"i'll see you out there superstar." you shared a tight hug before you opened your door, the excited chatter of your peers filling the room. "i'll be the one in blue holding the trophy." alessia grinned, grabbing your waist to pull you in for one final kiss.

"now there's that russo confidence, go heels!"

her first championship.

"come on, one last push go heels!" you screamed at the top of your lungs, voice raw and practically gone after how tense the game had been, your friends echoing the same chant beside you as the whistle finally blew, the crowd erupting as your girlfriend sprinted to join the team pile on in the middle of the field. 

she did it, she'd won her first american junior college championship.

"let's fucking go number nineteen!" you screamed with pride as alessia's name was called, the girl stepping up to receive her hat and medal at the presentation. cupping your hands over your mouth and hollering proudly, alessia's brothers who sat the row in front of you joined in, her parents turning around to shoot you elated grins.

you chatted away happily with your friends about the game as you waited for alessia to have her moment with her team and the trophy, taking dozens of photos before making her way over to her family who stood to the side, tears filling their eyes as hugs and congratulations were shared.

"i think this mean's you've reached ultimate wag status now." your best friend teased, bumping her shoulder with yours as you made your way down the stadium steps and onto the pitch, rolling your eyes at the comment.

you promised to catch up with them later as your friends headed off to congratulate the rest of the team, alessia making the same promise to her family before the two of you made a beeline for one another.

"champions!" you cheered loudly as the blonde picked you up with ease, your legs wrapping around her waist as the two of you tightly clung onto one another, alessia twirling you around a couple times before placing you back on the ground.

"i'm so proud of you." you smiled sincerely, tugging her into a short but searing kiss, pulling away all too quickly for your girlfriends liking, though in such a public setting you hardly wanted her parents to see you with their daughters tongue shoved down your throat.

"you know i never thought i was into girls with backwards hats, but this is doing it for me." you nodded, gesturing playfully to the championship snap back adorning your girlfriends head. "oh really? good to know." alessia smirked pulling you in for another kiss, unable to wipe the grin off of her face at the feeling of sheer euphoria currently pumping through her veins.

her words from before had come true, here she could be seen in blue, holding the trophy. only the piece of silverware from the game sat in the hands of her coach who stood on the other side of the field. unbeknownst to you, the trophy in her hands was you, the blonde firmly determined never to let that change.

"i love you." alessia blurted out suddenly, the three words having been dancing on the tip of her tongue for a few weeks now, too scared to let them slip at the wrong time and scare you away. "i love you." you immediately echoed back with a laugh, the complete lack of doubt in your response only further fueling alessia's body with unbridled joy.

it was plain to be seen that you both had fallen sweetly, irreversibly and to some nauseatingly head over heels in love with one another. 

[stayteezdreams]

Stray Kids x Petnames

Headcanons: Pet-names Boyfriend!Stray Kids would have for you (+ pet names you have for them)

Pairings: Ot8 x Reader *No pronouns are used, but some pet-names incline more towards a "feminine" reader.

(Ateez Version)

Chris:

Chris's go-to pet-names when he is around the others is 'Babe' or 'Honey', sometimes he will let a 'Sweetheart' slip but it's usually followed by Felix or Hyunjin making kissy noises.

When you are alone, he likes more "delicate" pet-names.

Such as 'Baby' (he'd totally use ''Baby-Girl as well), 'Sweetheart', 'Princess', or 'Darling'.

When he is in a more quirky mood he will throw out anything he thinks is cute in that moment

'Honey-bunny', 'Pumpkin', 'Nugget', 'Sugar'

You most often refer to him as Babe or Baby.

But he goes soft when you call him 'Sweetheart' or 'Love'

If you speak another language besides English and/or Korean, and you refer to him as a pet-name in that language??? Heart Eyes Motherfucker.

-

Lee Know

Lee Know doesn't really call you many pet-names in font of anyone, he will usually just use a nickname that some of the others use as well.

But eventually he will start calling you 'Jagiya' ('Baby/Honey') in front of the others.

And once he did start, that's when the others really knew he was serious about you. (thought they didn't really doubt it)

It's a fairly common headcanons that he would call his s/o 'Kitten', though I do think personally this would only be when he is in a more teasing mood.

Otherwise, I think his most often besides Honey or Babe/Baby, would be 'Love'.

He thinks it is romantic, and he knows you love it.

You call him 'Babe' most often a he is not the most fond of being called anything "cute"

But, you know he can't deny how red his ears get when you refer to him as 'love of my life' on occasion.

You abuse this power though sometimes, when you really need his help

"Minho-" "No" :( *later* "Love of my life!" "Yes baby?"

-

Changbin

Changbin is not afraid of calling you any kind of pet-name in front of the others, because if they try to call him out on it he will just be like "Yeah?! So what? You're just jealous!"

That being said, he often calls you 'Baby' 'Sweetie' 'Bunny' or 'Beautiful/Handsome'

On occasion he'll throw out things like 'Hey Cutie!', 'Cutie-Pie' 'Sweetie-Pie', 'Honey'

Be careful though, if he's laying the pet-names on thick, it means he wants something.

You call him 'Babe' 'Baby' or 'Handsome' most often.

When you need his attention or want something you tend to go for "Sweetheart' or calling him 'Bunny' like he does to you.

When you see him wearing either his work out clothes or a suit you might call him 'Stud' or 'Stud Muffin' and it always makes him giggle (he loves it)

-

Hyunjin

Hyunjin is definitely a romantic pet-name guy.

He does not often use 'Babe' or 'Baby' unless you're around the others, or in public.

Most often he goes with 'Prince/Princess', 'Darling', 'Love' and 'Muse' or things like 'Petal' or 'Beautiful' if he is feeling more soft than normal.

You use a lot of different pet-names on him.

The most common are 'Gorgeous' 'Babe' 'Love' or 'Darling', similar to the ones he uses for you.

But you tend to throw out random pet-names when he asks you questions, and he loves it

"Hey Love?" "Yes Dear?"

"Y/n!" "Yes My Beloved?"

Or things to make him laugh like 'Main Squeeze' 'Honey-Bun' or 'Hot Stuff'

-

Han

Han's go to is the classic Baby, My Baby, Babe, or My Honey.

He likes to put 'My' in front of them, not because he is possessive, but because he can't believe that you are his s/o!

When Han is feeling particularly soft (like when you are cuddling) he will refer to you as 'Beautiful', 'Gorgeous', or 'Love'

He is also a fan of the funnier pet-names like 'Shortie' (even if you are taller), 'Hottie', 'Baby doll', 'Cutie Pie', 'Hot Stuff' etc.

You use these a lot for him as well, usually when he is flirting and you are being a bit sarcastic 'Stud', 'Stud Muffin', 'Casanova', 'Romeo', 'Prince Charming'

He is amazed at how many you have in your arsenal, but he loves all of them (because of course he would)

More regularly you use 'Babe', 'Sweetheart' and 'Love'

And when you really want his attention you use names like 'Hey Handsome', or 'My Love'

-

Felix

Felix is 'Sunshine', you are 'Sunflower'; or sometimes just 'Flower'.

He also loves using more romantic pet names like 'Love', 'My Love', and 'Darling',

In front of others, he often just uses 'Babe' or 'Love'

He also like to refer to you as food related pet names 'Peaches' (because your cute and sweet), 'Sugar' (sweet as well), 'Pumpkin' (no real reason he just thinks it's cute).

Less like pet names and more of what he just refers to you as: 'My Beloved', 'Love of My Life', 'Soulmate'

You often refer to him as 'Babe' 'Baby', or 'Love' as well in day to day life (more often than not you call him by Lix though)

But you might also call him 'Sweetheart', 'Baby', 'Light', 'Gorgeous' or 'Baby Boy' when you want to make him blush.

You like to him with the "What's cookin' good lookin'?" anytime you find him in the kitchen, and he giggles every time.

-

Seungmin

Seungmin does not go for Pet names very often, usually just referring to you with your name or shortened nicknames.

But when he uses pet names it is often things like 'Dummy' (affectionate), or 'Short-cake'

On the somewhat uncommon occasion that he call you something sweet, it will be 'Babe' or 'Honey'

They come out very casually and without much thought.

The first time you heard him use one, you smiled widely and he was just like 'What?🧍‍♂️"

You often refer to him as 'Babe', 'Honey', or Sweetheart'

And though he never says anything about it, he really does like when you refer to him as pet names.

Sometimes when you don't, he's afraid you he made you angry.

"Seungmin" "...are you mad at me?" "No why?" "Why'd you call me Seungmin" "It's your name?" "No, I'm Babe"

-

Jeongin

Jeongin was a bit slow to using pet names, but the one that first came most naturally was 'Babe', and then it turned into 'Baby'

When your relationship went on, he started to call you more pet name in private, like 'Beautiful', 'Love', 'Angel' (which he stole after you called him that)

Sometimes he uses things like 'Prince(ess)', 'Cupcake', or 'Darling'

When his more menacing or teasing side comes out he will call you some pretty random things like 'Tiny', 'Dumpling', or 'Peanut'

You refer to Jeongin mainly as 'Babe', 'Baby', or 'Angel'

But sometimes you use things like 'Sweet Cheeks', 'Foxy', 'Cutie'

Jeongin is another member who would die if you called him something in a foreign language.

He gets all smiley and giggly, he loves it.

[olderthannetfic]

i'm dumb and its actual hard to guess

--

Haha.

Okay, so... the big issue in minority languages, reviving dying languages, etc. has to do with their draw.

To keep a language vital, you generally need:

monolingual speakers

economic advantage

cultural power

Pick two.

Any language that has its own territory where it is the majority language that is used for business and entertainment and daily life outside of the home does not tend to become endangered. There are plenty of people who only speak that language or who at least preferentially use it and are far more competent in it. They can't and won't run off for other languages at the drop of a hat.

But when you don't have that... boy, you better have a lot going for your language or it's fucked.

People go where the jobs are. If you need English in order to eat, you learn English. Or Mandarin. Or Russian.

Grandma cares deeply about our ethnic heritage and the traditions tied to our ancestral language? Too bad. I'm hungry, the jobs are in a factory in the city, and I need a roof over my head.

My kids want to watch TV. They want pop music and movies and comics. They want to feel cool, not like losers in some dying backwater.

Why the fuck would they care what grandma thinks?

...

Until they hit 40 and they realize their entire heritage just got stolen by the big boys. Who even are they because they're not this majority they tried to join, but they're not the old thing either? Gosh, it might be nice to reclaim their own history, but grandma is gone and so is her language and it's far, far too late.

--

If you don't have the territory and the economic power, your only other option is coolness.

If you've got some hot culture people love, they'll want to learn your language. Native speakers will take pride in that language and keep using it routinely instead of relegating it to the kitchen and living most of their life in another language. Their kids will grow up wanting to speak it instead of beating a hasty retreat for the nearest source of jobs and blockbuster movies.

This is why you get initiatives to make entertainment media in languages like Irish and Welsh.

When the sheer might of English is right next door, you're not going to beat that in usefulness or economic opportunity, but you just might be able to strike back by making people care.

It is very, very hard to make people care.

--

So on AO3, which is largely in English, if you want your ASL fic to matter, the last fucking thing you should do is make it available in English. Other languages, even super globally powerful ones, just aren't so common on AO3, so those translations don't really make a difference in this context.

The ASL translation of an English-language AO3 fic is a curiosity.

An ASL original that English speakers cannot access is a middle finger up to language hegemony.

[sunny-days-and-warm-mournings]

It is finally finished!! I am done and is so happy!!!

This is an AU exploring the concept of Sūn Wùkōng/Dàshèng as a Yaksha and Tu Di Gong, rather than being a Yaoguai Warlord during his later years reigning as the Monkey King.

This AU follows the beginning (with some changes here and there) up until Wùkōng's shenanigans with Ao Guang, then he went on a separate path from Wu Cheng'en's novel.

In this iteration our favourite Monkey explored the realms as he burned up time, but then he took a particular interest in the humans' ways of producing food. Since Dàshèng was so used to the grandeur and bounties of Huagoushan (being surrounded by such lush forests and mountains that never withered nor died) he sort of took pity on them before deciding to help them grow their crops much better.

But this is just the very much shortened summary of the beginning of this AU, and I have compiled some research and even more lore in my Google Documents just to expand on this idea more.

This— Westward To Tathāgatagarbha Lore Google Documents

This is the Google Document of my AU, which I highly recommend for you to read! It explains all the other details and such on this story! I did my best on making them but there would be still mistakes that I have yet to find, but it should be decent!!

This is a more casual look for Dàshèng/Wùkōng for this AU as well as some brief pointers! I made this before the portrait so some things might have changed.

(Don't mind him holding a cup of beer it's fine.)

Taken from the server (with some hints for the next half of the archives/docs) which instantly kickstarted this whole thing haahahjjjss, but it really was so fun talking about it to others! They gave me more inspiration that I can handle.

And what is Tathāgatagarbha you ask? (Brief)

In Buddhist philosophy, Buddha-nature is the potential for all sentient beings to become a Buddha or the fact that all beings already have a pure buddha-essence within. "Buddha-nature" is the common English translation for several related Mahayana Buddhist terms, most notably tathāgatagarbha and buddhadhātu, but also sugatagarbha, and buddhagarbha. Tathāgatagarbha can mean "the womb" or "embryo" (garbha) of the "thus-gone one" (tathāgata), and can also mean "containing a tathāgata". Buddhadhātu can mean "buddha-element," "buddha-realm" or "buddha-substrate"

The Chinese translated the term tathāgatagarbha as rúláizàng (如来藏), or "Tathāgata's (rúlái) storehouse" (zàng). According to Brown, "storehouse" may indicate both "that which enfolds or contains something", or "that which is itself enfolded, hidden or contained by another." The Tibetan translation is de bzhin gshegs pa'i snying po, which cannot be translated as "womb" (mngal or lhums), but as "embryonic essence", "kernel" or "heart".

The term tathagatagarbha first appears in the Tathāgatagarbha sūtras, which date to the 2nd and third centuries CE.

There will be more to this in the future when I'm finished researching more about it.

Also, speaking of people that inspire me, I'm calling my dear friends here who I think might like this: @digitalagepulao @kaijufluffs @sketching-shark @lavaflowe @sixteenthchapel @jttw-monkeybusiness and @hcdragoncat !!

Special thanks to Pardal and Grandpa Sun for getting me to write more of this too :D I had such great fun!

I have so much more to add to the docs and here but this is all for now :) and honestly this is one of the greatest projects I've started aside from the older ones. I'll come back again soon with more additions and art! And lore (And maybe some interactions with a few West Heaven occupants??)!!!

[ninadove]

Lukadrinette kids

Because I can. Enjoy these silly little thoughts.

📝 General notes:

Marinette, aka Maman, started out as a very successful and very stressed out fashion designer. She ends up retiring at 35 to take over the bakery and finally learn to chill (it’s going… better than expected).

Luka, aka Papa, is a guitarist with a very niche following and is perfectly happy with that. He’s very present in his kids’ lives and the easiest parent to open up to, because of course he is.

Adrien, aka Dad, is the stay-at-home parent and could not be more stoked. And scared. Someone help them

Emma and Hugo are twins, but look nothing like each other, which baffled Adrien and Felix when they were born; Adrien will never admit it, but he was a tiny bit disappointed they weren’t identical.

To help the kids connect with their heritage, their parents speak French, English and Mandarin Chinese at home. Despite it all, Louis’ first words were a full sentence in Japanese — more on that later.

It’s very common for French kids to have two “middle names” (deuxième et troisième prénoms), so I have planned accordingly. Enjoy!

🐍 Emma

Her full name is Emma Sentibug Alya Dupain-Cheng. Adrien would not have it any other way.

She’s the oldest by five minutes and she takes it very seriously. Too seriously, even.

Emma inherited Gabriel’s grey eyes, which will have no influence on her perception of herself at all, no sir.

Like Marinette, she feels responsible for protecting everyone and everything around her, which is why she was blacklisted from using the Ladybug Miraculous before she reached the tender age of five.

As luck would have it, she ended up with the Snake, which is even worse for her mental health. For maximum dramatic irony, I think I’ll call her superheroine persona Aspik.

Aroace and sad. It’s already hard enough to be aspec as it is, but given the importance romance played in her parents’ lives… you get the point.

🦋 Hugo

Aka Hugo Felix Tom Dupain-Cheng. Yes, Felix cried upon learning his name. A lot.

🎶 Bi bi bi bi BI 🎶

Inherited Mari’s talent for arts and crafts and Adrien’s dramatics. Despite being very similar to them both, he often finds it difficult to talk to them.

Uncle Felix, however, is his absolute favourite adult in the world, and regularly knocks some sense into him.

Adrien and Nino were so excited for their sons to be besties! So naturally they hate each other’s guts

They end up kissing about it, though, so it’s fine.

Butterfly holder. Very purple 💜

🐈‍⬛ Louis

Aka Louis Nino Jules (after Juleka)

Because twins were a lot to handle, Louis only came along six years later.

When he doesn’t get his way, he turns petulant and grumpy, which makes him Plagg’s absolute favourite. Luka finds it endearing and jokes that they rub off on each other. This stresses Adrien out, though, as he fears it might be an early sign of Gabriel Behaviour.

The truth is that Louis just has these huge feelings that he doesn’t know how to handle… and you know who relates to this? KAGAMI. She’s the only one who can get him to calm down once he starts crying. She will pick him up, he will cling to her jacket and suck on his thumb, and she will carry on with the conversation as if nothing happened.

Originally Very Small, he gets a HUGE growth spurt and ends up built like Tom, which is very unusual for Cat holders.

🐞 Sabine

Aka Sabine Amelie Rose

The surprise baby of the bunch. She looks just like her grandma Sabine!

A total ray of sunshine. Also very gay.

As the youngest and eventual holder of the Ladybug Miraculous, she triggers Mari’s overprotective tendencies the most. Adrien actually had to step up and get her to back off as it was starting to stir up bad memories.

Because Rose was very ill when the twins and Louis were young, she and Juleka didn’t get to watch them as much as she would have liked. They made up for it by spoiling their younger niece beyond reason.

The most musically inclined of the kids. Her love for punk rock and metal clashes hard with her cutesy vibes. Rose couldn’t be prouder. 💖