#id love to write more about smaller things

[reborn-ahit-au]

I do need to know, would you guys ar all be interested in mini fics/stories that give info on thw au?

I do want to get back to writing, but my last ficlet for this didnt get much attention.

So i have to ask, keep using art to tell the story, or do some writings too?

[variousqueerthings]

havin some overall Thots about ted lasso, but may wait until the finale next week to fully get them out there. nothing that i haven't seen being said about this season, which is that the pacing is very odd, and i remember being surprised way back when it was announced that it was going to be three seasons and not four. i do not fully believe that it was intended to be three in the way the creators have said. feels more like something out of necessity, than the best way to tell the story, which, i wouldn't have anything against that if that was the case, i fucking love the sense8 final movie for existing, although i know/one can see that it had to tie some very fast knots and drop a bunch of potential storylines -- this final season feels similar. id prefer a rushed ending to no ending at all, if that's the way the tv-landscape looks (and these days it really does look like that as we know).

i can see how they've gotten to the conclusions of multiple of the storylines, but the methods used to get there have been uneven. but that is interesting, may wanna poke at it some more after the final episode. overall this has been a pleasant journey to go on though. i feel very warmly about these characters and the ethos of the show.

[petday]

your art is so so so so inspiring to me which is strange bc my style isnt very similar to yours at all. but it makes me happy to see your art, especially when you make art from things from childhood id forgotten about💫💫💫💫💫🩷🩷🩷🩷

Thanks. Your message and similar messages from others over the years inspired me to try to put into words why I draw 'nostalgic things'. I ended up writing a lot.

There was a period of time when I became cynical about being seen as an 'artist who reminds people of childhood' or a 'nostalgic artist'. I no longer feel that way but I will explain why. Some artists, who I like and respect, will sometimes mention 'nostalgia holding artist's growth back' and 'nostalgia causes learned helplessness.' But I feel differently.

Maybe I perceive time differently. I have lived long enough to witness cycles of 'what is valued, and what is not valued' repeated. For example, I loved what is now called 'Y2K' style, but during mid 2000s, for whatever reason it was derided as something to be left in the past, something embarrassing. "Aren't we glad we optimized things now, and they are 'sleeker' and less complex? Old things were childish, an embarrassing weakness for humans, we must advance and reach our ideal evolution." That became the common attitude. I felt pressure to have the same thoughts. I just couldn't make myself feel that way no matter what, though. Even with the increasing threats about, 'keep up with others or you won't ever develop positive social relationships!' I couldn't change my mind.

(If what is currently valued becomes devalued and then it becomes valuable after that… that's an odd cycle to me. For example, if we like bananas, even when bananas cannot be harvested, we still like them even though they occupy a smaller space in our minds but we don't deride them. Going even further, though, I sometimes wonder if it is possible for humans to eventually remove the 'devaluation' stage, particularly in art 'trends' as I am an artist. Whatever is considered valuable remains valuable. A counter arguement would be, 'no, the devaluation of the previous thing is exactly what causes the next thing to be valued, and then the cycle flows beautifully: X was valued -> Y is valued, X is devalued -> Y is devalued, X becomes valuable again. If you want X to always remain valuable, just develop better patience. Like we cannot pick fruit we like all year, we cannot simply keep adding onto the pile of things we like, something has to be seen as inferior by the majority of humans.' I disagree. I might explain my thoughts against this argument more in the future.)

Anyway, what people call 'Y2K style' or 'art that emulates how things commonly appeared in early years of 2000s' is popular nowadays. Even someone who did not grow up with it can become attracted to it. That 'desire' itself is a communication between past and present. Something can make someone feel 'lighter' [in sense of, "wow, the crushing weight of my circumstance feels not so crushing when I look at this'] -- a similar 'light' to how someone in the past was perceiving it when it was the present and not the past. So, even though two people were born in different eras and may not become friends or even meet, they're still connected by that 'lighthearted' feeling they both like. I know it will be seen as 'lower value' soon, but I truly cannot care because as I mentioned earlier, I might perceive 'time' weirdly.

When I started playing video games, a family member would point out, 'those games were made before you were born, interesting!' but that statement confused me at the time since my perception was, 'well, if these games are from before I was born, I don't understand why she is bringing attention to it. Why is it interesting? It's just regular. They're alive in the present now, because I'm in the present and so are they.' That was when I was a very young child. I subconsciously kept the same feeling even as I was reaching teenage and adult years. The feeling echoed when people liked to ask the question 'why are you still playing games from long ago?' as I got older but still played the same 'old' games. The answer: they are beautiful and will remain beautiful, and something made in the past is still communicating in the present, so are they really truly 'outdated inferior games'...? Just because the cycle of valued and devalued happened to be in a different position and those old things were seen as an embarrassment? (Now there are popular games inspired by the era of games many people ridiculed me for consistently enjoying, lol. Similarly, I was using 'crappy' old versions of programs even through 2017. Now people from wealthy upbringing and background use 'crappy' programs willingly. lol)

The present talks to the past all the time, nostalgia is not a dead end. In that sense I cannot see nostalgia as a death trap but rather a connection made from past to present. A string between the past and present that feelings can crawl across and communicate. Feelings such as 'I wish my life took a different direction. I can't make things like how they were back then, it won't ever be the same again, so I'll do nothing.' The criticism of 'nostalgia' is towards that last sentence. But there are things you can do with those feelings. 'Doing nothing is boring. And I keep thinking of that fun drawing I saw... I kinda wanna try to make something.' Making something while thinking of the past and present at the same time, so there is a communication between past self and present self. Pure bitterness communicating with slightly light-hearted view, the 'end result' is artwork/creation.

*I used light-hearted feeling as example, but nostalgia can exist for any feeling, and not just for people who were nice when they were younger. If someone was cruel as a child/teenager, after the person has been an adult for a while, they can communicate with their younger self about what was it about the cruelty that was enjoyable, and then extract a small part from the cruelty that they wish to bring back into the present -- example, the attraction to 'high speed activities, playful mischievousness' can be extracted from 'hurting people on purpose so they will acknowledge/react to you'. The dialogue could be something like, "'honestly, you and I both know spamming people with bad things felt pretty fun at the time, so let's just keep the 'high energy mischievousness' feeling and leave behind the crap that hurt people deeply, and let's make an animation while thinking of that high energy feeling.

^ I don't answer questions or reply to messages often because of giving answers that aren't too long or too short is tough for me. lol. Thanks for liking my art. I like a lot of art that doesn't resemble mine as well. It's fun! Like appreciating different flavours in the same meal even if you cannot make the meal yourself.

[itz-mfkn-de]

\\ALL ID EVER WANT// T.N

Warnings- ANGST, (DW there’s is comfort), cussing, implied cheating, smoking, Theodore being a jerk in the beginning, ya that’s it

Summary- You thought he was the love of your life, but maybe in the end you were just young and naive.

(Plsplsplsplspls REQUEST. PLEASEEE. But anyways sorry guys I’m not good at writing angst so this is kinda shitty but I js had rlly bad brain rot abt Theo sooo enjoy.)

You sucked in a deep breath and prayed that when you spoke your voice wouldn't  crack.

"I thought—" it cracked, you quickly cleared your throat. "I thought that I might've actually meant something to you, Nott."

"Oh, amore...don't do that." He said breathlessly. He attempted to step closer to you but for  every step he took forward you took one back. He sighed at your bitterness.

"I have the right to call you whatever I want." You said fiercely.

"Why are you being like this? You've given me no explanation for your anger colomba."  He said with an almost neutral facial expression.

"Oh don't pretend to give a shit about how I feel now. I saw you with her," the venom seeped through your teeth and onto your words, burning your throat as you held back tears.

He stiffened at your words, now understanding where your anger had originated from. The blonde girl now resurfacing in his memory.

And suddenly, just as quickly as he had appeared remorseful, his facial expression hardened.

"Mm, so you did."He muttered, refraining from letting any emotion slip into his words.

You were speechless, he seemed to care more about an imaginary stain on his jacket sleeve than your heart crumbling right before his very eyes.

"So I did? Thats all you have to say? What about us? Theodore, you are my everything," you said, completely dropping the idea of hiding your vulnerability.

He seemed to wince at your words, and you could've sword you saw tears well up in his eyes when he glanced up, but he was quick to avert his gaze.

"Was your everything, Columba. Was. Not anymore." He corrected you. "I don't hold any interest in..using you...anymore principessa."

His voice sounded strained, and as hurtful as his words were, his facial expression made it look like it was hurting him more to say them.

"W—what?" You said as the tears overfilled and poured down your cheeks, "but..but you said you loved me." You said while your head slowly started to hang.

You should've listened to your friends. Everyone said not to fall for his charm, the Italian playboys flirtatious ways.

But you couldn't help yourself.

He made you feel special. He made you feel loved. He protected you and cherished the very ground you walked on, yet here he was...treating you as if you were just another body for him to throw out when he got bored.

Nothing made sense, he had spent so long reassuring you that you were his first and only love, the only one that made him feel. He opened up to you as you did him. He told you he wanted to have a family with you. Now all the sudden he was acting like this.

"I did, didn't I? Sorry for leading you on like that, didn't know you'd think I'd actually be in love with some half-blood." He nearly spat as he continued looking at the ground.

"Half-blood? This—this is about my status?" You mumbled in complete shock.

He didn't answer you as he tucked his hands into his jacket pockets,his green tie reflecting the moons brightness.

Green. Slytherin. You forgot how serious that house was about their blood status. You then recalled the first time you saw theo.

It was your second year, you were just trying to get to your next class when all of the sudden, you saw a small group of Slytherin boys surrounding a smaller ravenclaw boy.

"Filthy muggle! You shouldn't be here." Draco malfoy had spit ruthlessly at the boy. All the Slytherin boys around him were laughing and saying other horrible things to the boy. Except for one, he just stood there spaced out.

That one boy had happened to be Theodore nott.

You brought it up to him years later when you two had become friends and he said he never cared for blood status like his other peers seemed too. You had admired his different view,

Little did you know he would become just like his other peers.

You stood out in the garden, tears pouring down your cheeks and anger seething through your veins.

"Okay. Throw me away like I'm fucking nothing, tell me you hate me, tell me you want me leave and I will." You said  as the clouds above you darkened and the roared with thunder.

He looked at you. This was only the second time tonight he had made eye contact, and Everytime he did, you could've sworn you saw something under his dark cloudy eyes. But alas, you yourself were too consumed by your own feeling to see the ones he hid just beneath his rough exterior.

"I want nothing to do with you, y/n."

Your heart shattered.

The very boy who had been your first everything, your first love, your first kiss, your first. Had just told you he wanted nothing to do with you.

Without a second thought you spun on your heel and nearly jogged to the Hufflepuff dormitories.

Your heart raced as your head pounded, what had changed? When had he changed? Nothing made any sense at all.

All you could think about was how badly you wanted to just get home and cry as hard as you could.

You raced through your dorm hall, counting he doors until you reached your own.

You unlocked your dorm in one swift motion and slammed it behind you. You casted a silencing spell just as quickly as you had shut the door.

You screamed.

You screamed so loud you thought your throat was gonna give out. You slowly slid down against the wall you were leaning against as you continued to cry.

Where did you go from here? Everything you had planned for yourself included Theodore. Everything you did included him. You didn't remember a time when you didn't have him by your side at this school.

You started to piece things together, everything starting to become much clearer.

Even though you and him had been together for about six months, he insisted on not wanting to go official because of How people wouldn't approve. How he would ruin your reputation. Ha, funny to think of that now, simply for the fact that he revealed he was embarrassed of you. He didn't want you to ruin his reputation.

You cried at the realization, the screams no longer coming out.

This continued for some time, eventually you cried yourself to sleep. If you could even call it cry, at that point, there were no tears left to cry.

——

The Slytherin common room was quiet, except for the quiet fire crackling in the mere background.

But Theodore couldn't help but zone it all out.

He sat in the love seat with his legs wide open, his leg bouncing up and down quickly.

Your expression after he had crushed your heart into millions of pieces replayed in his mind for the millionth time that night.

He'd always be so quick to hurt anyone who ever made you hurt, but now that he was the one that had caused you such distress, he couldn't help but be filled with self loathe.

Then he remembered the reason. He had to do it. He had no other choice but to break your heart so you'd never love him again.

You shouldn't love a monster like him.

Especially not after his father had told him about his relation with the dark lord. His family was involved with horrible things, he was Involved with horrible things.

He always thought he deserved better, but he held too much love for you to let you go.

Then he realized what his father had been planning for him. What he had for his future.

He couldn't bring you down with him. You had so many things planned for yourself, you had a life to live. He couldn't bear to see you get dragged down by him.

You. His piccola colomba. His principessa. His mondo. He would rather stay loving you from afar than infect you with his disease. His curse.

He felt the tears welling up in his eyes as he looked at the bracelet on his wrist, the one you had the matching half too. He should've thrown in the fireplace, go ahead and get it over with.

But he could never, for it was all he had left of you and him.

His brain went over the argument again, remembering the blonde girl you had referred too.

That was the girl his father had set him up to marry, the one that he expected him too marry.

She was the ideal wife in his father’s eyes; she was pureblood, top of her class, and a fantastic wizard.

Theodore could've given two shots about any of that, because as long as she wasn't you he'd never love her. He'd never love anyone. Not like he loved you. Not like he breathed for you.

No one could replicate how you held his very existence in your gentle hands.

He let the tears slip past his cheeks, not caring anymore. He had last the one thing he wanted. The only thing he'd ever needed.

He could feel his very heart breaking as he clutched his chest and his face twisted in pain; the pain of losing his Amore.

——

Two weeks had passed since that night. The night you left your heart on the concrete out by the garden.

Your friends were so worried for you, forcing you to leave your dorm after the first three days and you still hadn't left. You were completely and utterly broken.

You forced yourself to attended school, your parents would kill you if you failed over just some boy.

Except he wasn't just some boy. He was the love of your life. He'd always hold that spot, even if he didn't want to anymore.

Everyone was just trying to get to their classes, the hallways filled to the brim with people. You numbed shoulder with a few people, offering them nothing more than a quiet "my bad."

Your shoulders hung low. You had tried your best that morning to put yourself together; you wanted to look somewhat presentable, but everyone knew something had happened. Your baggy eyes and solemn look were a clear tell tale sign of your state.

The passing period was only a short 3 minutes, but usually it felt as if you were given thirty seconds to race to your next class. This time however, it felt more like three hours.

Your feet dragged heavily behind you, your mind somewhere off in the distance.  Class seemed to fly by, the professors words muffled by your thoughts, to be more specific, your lack of thoughts.

It was clear to you, and anybody who knew you on first name basis, you were miserable.

——

"You're a fucking idiot." Pansy sat, mouth ajar and eyes wide open as she listened to Theodore nott.

"No, I'm not. I'm protecting her, I can't let myself ruin her."  He said through gritted teeth, the cigarette in his hand nearly crumbling beneath his grip.

He hadn't smoked since he'd gotten with you, you'd made sure of it. Of course he'd listen to his beautiful girl, anything to make you happy. He turned to the only thing he had without you.

"Salazar save me..Theodore. You aren't protecting shit. She's already ruined, and you did that by leaving her." She nearly spat the words, her expression nothing short of sour. "That girl loved you, she told me every chance she could get. I don't know what weird shit you got going on, but I can tell you that she is the only person who would hold your hand through it."

Theodore stared at the ground, his eyes fixated on the wooden flooring.

He knew she was right. He knew she was hurting more than he'd ever intended. He couldn't help but want to punch the wall next to him, but he decided to refrain from violence.

"I," he paused for a moment, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "I'm so fucking stupid.., ho ferito l'unica persona che amavo veramente." He clutched his head in his hands. (I hurt the only person I truly loved.)

"Yeah. You are. " she said with little to no sympathy in her voice. "You are an idiot, an idiot who needs to fix what he fucked up."

He knew exactly what she meant, but he as unsure if you'd want to see him, unsure if you be okay with letting the man who broke your heart into your dorm.

He remembered all the horrible things he said and could barely hold back the pain that wanted to erupt into his heart. He had to make it right. He had to do it for his sweet girl. His columba. His future.

He gave pansy one last glance and then left the room with no more words exchanged between the two.

——

You sat in front of your mirror, picking at any spot that stuck out on your face.

You had just finished your nightly routine, slowly checking off each box form your nightly ritual. All except one; wallow in self pity, which happened to be your recent favorite.

Your hands stopped their ministrations on your face as you heard a knock on the door. Who'd be here at this hour?

You got up and walked to your door, trying to brainstorm on who it could be, maybe your friends asking for there homework answers, or a prefect doing room checks.

You opened the door ready to greet the person with a smile.

Your heart dropped.

Oh. It was him. Theodore was standing at your door, looking disheveled and frantic.

Your words died in your throat as you suddenly felt helpless.

"Hi." He said without breaking eye contact. You just stared at him unable to respond with confidence.

"Why are you here.?" You said with heartbreak lacing your sorrowful tone.

"I...I know I'm probably the last person you want to see," you wrapped you arms around yourself, attempting to comfort yourself. You stopped yourself from interrupting him and let him continue. "But I..just need to tell you the truth."

You stared at him with a confused expression.

"you've told me more than enough, Nott." Your words came out airy, and high pitched.

"No—no. I have not." He stated while staring into your very soul, stripping you bare.

You looked at him through your eyelashes, holding back every hateful thing you had to say.

"Come inside." You said while sighing deeply. Theodore's eyes shot open with shock, eagerly stepping inside your dorm room.

You stood by your closet door, waiting for him to continue, eyes watery and lips quivering.

"I'm— im so sorry... I thought that-that maybe if I ended things I could protect you. Maybe if I broke your heart you would hate my guts and leave." He sputtered out all his words at once while his voice shook and for the first time since you and him had gotten together, you saw Theodore Nott cry.

"Protect me? What could you possibly be protecting me from by leaving me." You wanted to hold him  and console the boy who had shown you nothing but love, but you couldn't let a few tears break you.

He sighed at your words.

"Amore, I was protecting you from me. I don't deserve you, and I can't let myself intoxicate you. You're too...perfect." He nearly whispered as he took a step closer.

"Dont do that," you said softly "don't say all that..., you told me you were just using me." Your eyes overfilled with tears, a few slipping past your cheek bones.

"I know. I know what I said , and if I could beat myself up for hurting you I would. I thought I was doing the right thing by leaving you, but I was so, so wrong." He explained through a strained voice.

You wiped your face, trying to understand what he was saying. "Theodore im confused, i have loved you ever since third year. I gave you my everything, what made you think you could've scared me off now?" You questioned with your brows furrowed.

He took a deep breath in.

"I'm not—I'm not a good person, Bambina. My family Aren't good people. They want to...hurt people and they're taking me down with them. I couldn't let them take you too, not when you mean the most anyone has ever meant to me, Bella Ragazza."

You let out a shaky sigh as your eyes grew a little wider.

It was silent for a while before you finally figured out what you wanted to say.

"First, it doesn't matter what happens, I will always love you, Theo." You looked him in the eyes with tears streaming down your face and hitting the wooden floors gently.

"Second," you closed your eyes for a moment.

"I want to forgive you so bad, I want to hug and kiss you with so much need, but....im still so hurt and confused." You mumbled while rubbing the sides of your arms.

Theodore wanted to stab himself in the heart for making you cry this much.

"I understand that, colomba. Ask me anything and I will give you nothing but the truth." He stated while taking another step towards you.

"That—that girl. You still were with that girl," you muttered "even if you were protecting me."

His eyes widened for a moment before he gained his composure.

"That was Irene, the girl my father had set me up to marry. She had approached me that day in hopes of getting to know me, and I just blew her off." He claimed.

You looked at him, trying to understand the boy you were in love with. Every time you'd thought you knew everything about him, it somehow became more clear that you didn't at all.

"You don't have to forgive me now, but I need you to know that there is no one after you. Sei e sarai il mio primo ed unico more. I will love you until my heart stops beating, and I will never forgive myself for the way I hurt you over these past few weeks." He stated through voice cracks and small hiccups.

You let a sob rip through you once again.

"I thought I was doing the right thing, but I realize now that I was being selfish. And for that I am eternally sorry." He exclaimed with a gruff voice.

You saw the tears slip past his face, the way he stood with defeat and sorrow pulsing through his body. You couldn’t watch anymore.

You took two large strides towards him and wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him into a tight embrace. He wasted no time in hugging you back, pressing his lips to your head gently.

He missed you more than he could ever explain in words, your scent alone gave him an unhealthy dose of serotonin.

“I’m so sorry.” He sniffled. You both stood there for awhile, allowing yourselves to make up for missed time.

“I’m so, so sorry, Amore.” He said while pulling you back to look in your eyes.

“I know, Theo. I know.” You reassured him with a soft caress through his curly locks.

He slowly brought his own lips to meet your own, bringing you into a hungry yet gentle kiss.

His lips danced with yours the kiss slowly becoming more than just soft pecks. A sudden surge of heat ran through your body as you slowly pushed him towards your bed.

The back of his knees hit your bed causing him to fall backwards on it, and you wasted no time in straddling him.

His hands secured your hips on his laps as he let his lips wander from your mouth. He showered your neck and collarbone in sloppy kisses.

“Theo..” you moaned out, hands making their way into his hair.

“You deserve so much better than me, colomba.” He groaned imbetween his ministrations on your neck.

You gasped as you felt his hands digging into the fat of your ass.

You then felt a wave of doubt hit you. You remembered how his parents had set him up with that girl, how the whole reason he had ended it was because of his parents; how would everything work out now, it’s not like anything had changed.

“Theodore…your father.” You mumbled as you pulled his head from your neck.

“Dont really think my father is my main issue right now,” he gave you a lopsided grin as you felt the hard on he had been trying to hide under you.

You slapped his chest playfully.

“No, I mean.. he doesn’t want us together. How is everything gonna work out if he’s the reason we couldn’t work in the first place.” You questioned doubtfully.

He looked at your with love lacing his already cloudy eyes, his large hand coming up to play with the hair in your face. He knew exactly in this moment what he was missing his entire life, why he felt so incapable of loving someone. It’s because he hadn’t met you yet.

When his mother died and he saw how little his father cared, he had thought that love wasn’t real. That it was simply just a concept, a mere after thought at most.

But you taught him the truth.

You taught him that love wasn’t just some feeling, it was a person. And for him, that person was you.

“I don’t care about what he wants y/n, because I know what I want. I know that I want to spend the rest of my life with you, I know that I want to be your one and only.” He said breathlessly,

“I know that I want you.”

[satorusugurugurl]

hii may i request a pirate! Nanami x mermaid!f!reader?

Iike in the Disney movie "the little mermaid"? I think id be so cute 🥰

If u do this request, thank u ❤

My Lovely Mermaid

Summary: You're a curious mermaid, Nanami Kento is a book loving pirate, a match made in heaven.

Word Count: 2,738

Pairing: Pirate!Nanami Kento x AFABMermaid!Reader

Warnings: mentions of fire, near drowning, nudity, half-burnt (BUT HEALED) Nanami, fluffy goodness!

A/N: I love mermaid au’s, yes I was that girl at the pool asking if people wanted to play mermaids! 🤣 this was so fun, I loved writing for healed half burnt Nanami, I've seen fanart of him, and golly, so pretty.

You have been obsessed with the surface world for as long as you can remember. Humans were strange creatures and carried many strange items on their ships, from a little metal trident to jewels and round circular things with deep holes. They had papers bound together with netting of some kind, and the papers were littered with strange black smudges—weird but fascinating creatures.

You want to learn all about them, ask them what they use the sharp metal things for. Why do they carry trunks full of flat yellow metal? Every time you found yourself exploring a new shipwreck, more questions arose. You desperately wanted someone to answer all of the questions you had.

The only problem was the fact that humans were terrified of your kind. Whenever you’d breach the surface when a ship would pass, all of them would cover their ears, screaming not to listen to your singing. They were convinced that you would drown them. Such a terrible stereotype; you and your kind in these warm waters had never drowned sailors, or anyone else for that matter. Other mermaids in different waters might do that so that you could understand their concerning caution. If one of them would give you a chance, all your dreams would come true.

Little did you know your wish would

Come true on a beautiful summer night.

You had been lounging on some rocks, staring at the little trident you had found and the shipwreck down below. You ran through your damp hair as your tail flipped in the water, splashing the rock below. You were lost in a trance when shouting could be heard in the distance. You sat up, looking to find a red-orange glow in the distance, the lights consuming a ship as black clouds rose. The humans on board the vessel were screaming, jumping off the edge, climbing into smaller boats, and rowing away from the ship that was collapsing in on itself.

You wondered what sort of treasure you would find inside when a man in a small boat began fighting against two other humans trying to hold him back. “Nanami! Nanami! He's still on board, captain!”

“Haibara, stop!” a man with long black hair shouted, holding the man with short brown hair back.“There’s nothing we can do right now!”

“Kento!”

“We’ll circle.” The moonlight overhead shone on hair as white as the shells you collected. “Maybe he jumped off on the other side.”

The smaller boat began rowing around, calling for this ‘Nanami.’ As they turned, you watched a man run to the ship's edge. He looked down at the water. The beam above him cracked and snapped, and the red glow crept up.

“Look out!” you cried as if he could hear you from as far away. “Hey!” attempted to get his attention a second time as the beam began cracking, falling in his direction. “Look out!!” Leave your mouth as the beam snaps, falling towards the man with the color of sunlight.

The man turns to stare as you scream in horror, covering your mouth just as he manages to dodge it. No relief is found as a rope tangles around him, pulling him off the ship and dragging him under the surface. The second he hits it, you’re diving in after him. Your tail frantically moves against the waters as you search for the man. Amongst the ropes, boards of wood, and jewels, you spot the tangled ropes of the man on the ship's edge. Bubbles rose from his mouth and nose, and his eye twitched as he dragged further down.

You wouldn’t allow the ocean to clean his life. Not today. Gritting your teeth, you swim faster, grabbing his hand and pulling him up out of the dark blue abyss of the water. Untangling him out of the ropes, you swim behind him, hooking both your arms under his, dragging him up to the surface. When you breach the surface, you ensure his head is held above the water as you swim for the shore.

The waves rock against the sandy shore as you drag him to lie on the beach. It's at that moment that you were able to see him truly. His chest slowly rises and falls as he breathes. You brush back strands of his hair, gently running your fingertips over the eyepatch that covers his left eye. The entire left side of his body, from his head down to his hip, is covered in healed scars.

“So pretty.” You whisper, running your hand down my cheek. His head leans into your touch, making your heart flutter fast.

You stay like that, staring at the beautiful man until your tail dries and shifts into your legs. You lie there next to the stranger until the sun begins to rise. It was about that time when he groaned, turning his head to the side before he blinked slowly.

Nanami’s vision was blurry, blinking slowly. He was on warm, damp sand, and his head was pounding. He turned his head to the other side and stared at the knees of someone sitting near him. His eyes trailed up higher, cheeks burning as he stuttered and sat up, finding his knees belonging to a very naked and beautiful woman.

“Oh! You’re awake!” You chirped happily, tilting your head to the side and shifting your hair. “Thank goodness.”

“I’m sorry—I'm just a little confused.”

“Well, you were drowning, and I saved you.”

The man before you slowly nodded, averting his gaze from your direction. “Oh, thank you very much; I would like to thank you properly, but—“ His cheeks flushed pink. “You’re uhm—naked.” You hummed, glancing down at your naked body before shrugging your shoulders.

“Merfolk don’t have the need to wear clothes.”

Nanami has deduced that you weren’t exactly human when he first looked at you. Your ears were shaped differently, almost similar to what he’s seen in books depicting elves with a slight point. Your cheap bones were littered with glittering scales, and you had a starfish pulling some of your hair back. He had heard rumors about mermaids being in the ocean but had never seen them in person.

“Right, well uhm—“ he sighed, rubbing his hand down his face. “Hold on,” You watched as he took his shirt off before handing it to you. “I don’t want to be rude and stare. Even though you’re very beautiful and you have a very stunning body. I want to thank you properly for saving me, so if you don’t mind, could you put this on for a second?”

You took the white fabric from him, examining its sleeves and two openings. You slid it over your bare body the way you had seen him wearing it. The shirt was long on you, covering your torso, and the end rested against the top of your thighs. The sleeves were long, swallowing your hands as you flapped them around curiously.

Nanami finally turned to watch as you cutely moved your arms up and down. He watched as the sleeves of his shirt flapped with you. He grinned, turning to face you, sitting on his knees. You examined him briefly before getting into the same position, sitting on your knees so that you could stare at him.

“Thank you for saving my life.” He bowed his head, which quickly followed suit.

“It was my pleasure.” You went back to examine the shirt closely.

Nanami scoffed, shaking his head as he sat against the glittering sand in the rising sun. “My name is Nanami Kento, what’s yours.” You quickly told him your name, more eager to stare at the different stitching in the fabric you wore. “I would like to repay you for saving my life. I owe you a debt.” For the first time in your entire life, a certain sense of excitement washed over you like the warm summer waves. This was your chance to ask him your questions and get some answers!

“I have lots of questions about you humans.”

“Do you?”

“Mhmm, why do you guys carry mini tridents on all your ships?”

Nanami cocked a blonde brow at you. “Mini-tridents?” You held the finger up in front of him before reaching into the net bag you had made and pulled out the trident.

“These things.”

Nanami reached out with the most gentle smile on his face. “This is called a fork. We use it to eat food.” You allowed him to take this so-called ‘fork’ from you. “Watch.” He reached down, scooping some of the sand onto the fork. “This way, our hands don’t get dirty when we eat. We also use spoons and knives as well. But depending on the food or culture, utensils aren't used.” But you didn’t hear any of that because your eyes were sparkling with all as you watched him take the fork into the sand, picking it up before dumping it down onto the ground.

“Amazing!”

“What else would you like to know?”

“Oh, I have so many questions! Lik—“

“Nanami?!” Both of you turn, watching several men come running down the beach towards you. “Oh my god, Captain, it’s Nanami!!”

“Haibara!” There was a relief in Nanami’s tone, which had you smiling with a heavy heart. He had a life on the short to get back to you; he couldn’t just lie there and answer all of your questions. So you pulled the shirt off and handed it back to him. “Huh?” Looking down into his lap, he found his sweater and glanced up to watch as you walked towards the water, stepping into the crystal blue ocean. “Wait! Where are you going?”

“Home.” You say, slowly sinking deeper into the water, feeling your legs shift back into your tail. “Your friends are here now. They’ll be able to get you home.”

Just before you can dive into the water, there’s a splash behind you, and Nanami grabs your hand to prevent you from leaving. “Answering one of your questions isn’t enough to thank you for saving my life. Could you come back here and meet me every day? I’ll be happy to answer any questions you have.” Your fingers interlace with his.

“I’ll meet you here tomorrow. How about when the sun is highest in the sky?”

“I’ll be here.”

Just like he promised every day when the sun was highest in the sky, you would meet him at the beach where he would be waiting for you. He always brought lunch for both and was more than willing to answer every question you had. You learned all about forks, spoons, and knives. Nanami told you that women like to wear jewels, and the flat yellow coins in their trunks, which you found at the bottom of the ocean, were used as currency to buy things like food or clothes.

When those questions were answered, Nanami began bringing books to the beach for you both to read. You’re so glad he did because You’ve learned all about different things: foods and far-off places. Every day, you would lie on the beach, reading with Nanami. He'd tell you stories of his days with the crew. Sailing the seas and fighting battles, he always did it with a fond but almost sad smile.

He loved his friends and his job defending people from the Pirates, who were horrible humans. Kenjaku and his gang of horrible people had plagued the ocean for so long. They were sinking ships, stealing money, and committing the most heinous of crimes. In the battle leading up to Kenjaku’s defeat, Nanami lost his eye, and half his body was burnt by a pirate named Mahito. At the same time, his voice and eye are full of pain. He claims that it was well worth it because, in the end, they were able to defeat them. Even though he was left with the scars for it.

“I suppose it's still taking me some time to get used to. People tend to stare.” He said as he stroked your hair back. “But, you never once questioned or made comments about it. Why is that? From the mermaid who has millions of questions, I thought that would be something you would be curious about.”

“Oh,” you looked up from your book, turning to face Nanami, “I just think you’re beautiful.”

His hand gently cups your cheek, holding it there. “And I think you're beautiful. A beautiful, strong mermaid who saved my life.” The distance between your lips gets smaller and smaller as he inches forward. “You know that you are far too kind?” You lean into his touch, nuzzling against the palm of his hand.

“I couldn't just idly sit by and watch someone die. I honestly believe there was a reason behind my lounging that night, and I'm glad that J was there because I got to meet you. You are so kind and handsome. You never think any of my questions are stupid or ridiculous.”

“Because they’re not. Do you have a curious mind, and I’m happy to feed that.”

Before your lips could touch, you pulled away. “I’m happy being with you,” you whisper, playing with the sleeves of Nanami’s shirt, which he always lets you wear when you lounged on the beach with him. “But uhm, Gojo mentioned that he has another ship lined up for you. That you should be able to get back to work soon.”

Nanami can see the disappointment in your eyes. You knew this day would eventually come. He wouldn’t stay on the beach with you forever, answering your questions and feeding the delicious food he prepared. He’d eventually go back to sailing the seas, and you would go back to exploring shipwrecks soon. This beautiful time together was going to be short-lived. Because how would you make this work?

A mermaid and a pirate being together. Because one saved the other from drowning, was there anything holding him here to be with you? For you both to continue meeting on this secluded beach outside his hometown. No, he had a life to get back to.

“Yeah, about that.” he gently grabbed the back of your head, pulling you close to his face. “I told Gojo that I was going to retire.”

“Retire?”

“Yes, it means I'm no longer going to work.” The way your pupils dilated and sparkled made Nanami’s heart soar. “I've made enough money to last me the rest of my life.”

You press your hands against his bare chest. “What do you plan on doing now?” Your voice is high-pitched as your breathing quickens in anticipation and excitement.

“Oh, the crew said they will help me build a house here on this beach. I plan to fill it with all the books I haven't read yet. Books that my curious mermaid can read. Because her curiosity and awe of the world is something I want to continue to fuel because I have fallen in love with every bit of her beauty, curious mind, and heart.”

“Kento,” you whisper, eyes flooded with liquid.

“May I kiss you? And so selfishly ask you to accept me as yours?” There were no questions to be asked. You closed the distance between you both, slamming your lips against his in a searing kiss. As Nanami hit the soft sand below, his arms wrapped around you, holding you tight against him.

A few years pass, and Gojo tracks down the beach with Suguru and Haibara. They had been kind enough to bring back gifts for you on their latest voyage: books, wine, and exotic fruit. The house you and Nanami had built stood tall, providing shade for you both. You lie in the sand holding each other as your daughter happily places a seashell on the pile of sand she deemed a castle.

“Ahoy there!” Haibara yells, drawing Nanami’s attention from the little wavy blonde girl clapping her hands together. “We brought treats!”

“Uncle Yu!!” Your daughter bolted for the group of men, throwing her arms around Yu’s leg and giggling as she stepped forward. Her hair flowed in the warm summer breeze, revealing her pointed ears. She might be a carbon copy of her father, but at least she got your ears.

Nanami watched from the shade, taking a deep breath before looking at the ocean. An ocean that had left him scarred almost drowned him and brought him to the best thing in his life. You plopped down next to him, stretching your arms above your head before your husband leaned down, kissing you softly. The ocean had brought you together. And he thanked it every morning for his lovely little mermaid wife and beautiful daughter.

Forever Tag List:

@darkstarlight82 @pandoness @nealeart @simp-plague @sugurubabe @chilichopsticks @reap3erslov3

[comfortless]

HIYA SYL! I LOVE UR WORK WITH THE DEPTHS OF MY SOUL AND ALSO I HOPE YOURE HAVING A GOOD DAY (๑˃ᴗ˂)ﻭ

AHEM! I constantly have this idea of Hybrid!Konig discovering the scent of Hybrid!Reader on his territory, but due to it being so vast he can never catch her in person. All he has to go off of is scraps of food, her scent rubbed against stones and stumps, and prints that are MUCH smaller than his! Until on one faithful day, he catches the lil thing creeping around his personal space!

I just wanna add that I’d love to see you tweak this idea ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ (If you want!) like making it human!reader instead orrrr in a more human manner such as it being a cabin in woods and reader is stranded, maybe. ANYTHING, KEKEKE ID JUST EAT UP ANY OF YOUR AMAZING WORK

raaah thinking about a bear hybrid König because of the cute lil kaomoji.. he would be so big and soft… ;; reader gets to be a fox..! also thank you for your sweet words and the prompt, angel!! ^^ 💘 too many ideas… i should write more hybrid!Kö…

content/warnings: 18+. minors do not interact. reader & König are mostly human like last time! just with ears and tails. König is incredibly awkward in this (has 0 idea how to talk to a lady someone help him), possessive behaviors, very much… love? obsession? at first sight, fluff, implied sex.

The pretty thing in the grove does not know that she sits on the cusp between admired and threatened. She skitters through summer foliage like a dance, twists and winds and stretches to reach each fattened, ripe fruit hanging from vine or limb. The scent that lingers in this place fills most up with dread, their eyes wide as they look for places to hide or run, any place but here. She hardly seems bothered when she takes a plum into her mouth, it’s juice dripping down her chin as her tail curls over her bare stomach.

She laughs when the birds in their trees warn her of danger, bares her teeth at them and tells them all she’s far faster than some old bear, speaks off-key when she’s drunken on stolen fermented fruit and dazed on the rays of sunbeams shifting through the leaves.

He could rush out, take her by surprise and hook a claw into her throat before she would even have the mind to spare him a glance. It’s just that no part of him wants to, not now, not when he’s been made aware of the beautiful passerby that steals his food and leaves a pattern of uneven, dancing footprints in her wake. He had only had the thought once when he saw this earthly garden uprooted with only the foreign smell of rosemary and lilac left behind.

Watching her now, it’s all too different.

She leaves the pit of her plum at her side when she lies in the grass to rest, tail plumed up and over her middle like a blanket as her ears flick and rustle her hair. It’s not a tentative sleep: she’s soft, warm and utterly exhausted from her day of pilfering if the long, quiet breaths were much to go by.

Any other bearman would eat her whole and pick the bones from his teeth to leave as offerings for the birds, the buzzards with their wild eyes and ruffs of feathers about their necks. But… it’s only summer, what good would eating her do? He reasons it would hurt him more than it could ever hurt her, because then all would fall back to tedium and silence. There would be no more hushed laughter and dizzying prances, no more of a sight prettier than any view he’s seen prior.

He wants more of her than this— more than what he should ever have at all or more of her than even she could offer with honeyed words or soft touches.

So, he only watches her rest. In the gentle calm of daylight, she rolls against the grass in sleep, bares herself unknowingly when the sun warms her and her thighs are too warm to press against one another. And finally, he wills himself to turn away, to wander back to that dreary cabin that serves as a proper home, because as much as he wants, he does not deserve.

The days go on like this.

The haze of summer does not let up, and she’s made a home of a strawberry patch in a glade closer to the cabin than she’s ever been before. He watches her bask amongst the bushes, lying on her belly while the sun beats down against her hide, kisses over her shoulders with a yellowish glow that only makes her look as sweet as warmed honey, a bonfire, lovely as the fruit she steals.

Nothing changes in her even when he does bring himself to detach from the shade of the pine, force himself into the light for the birds and tiny humming bees to see. She tilts her head back, flicks her tail and smiles like she’s known he’s been there all along. Known the loneliness and tastes it on her teeth to spit it back out in refusal, but she hasn’t— not like he has, because she’s the one who speaks first.

“Are you going to eat me?,” she asks when she’s risen to her feet. His little fox does not hide herself from him; her tail sways lazily behind her, each dip and curve displayed so openly that he wonders if she sees him as a threat at all, or then, maybe the danger coaxes up an unseen heat within her.

He shakes his head stiffly, ears pressed back to his skull.

The world itself must have played some horrible joke upon him now, because all thoughts of what he wanted to say filter out into a plume of smoke. It’s maddening, how he wants to tell her he would like nothing more than to drag her back into his cabin and lick honey from her mouth, yet all that comes out is a brittle, “The strawberries are not ripe yet.”

She laughs at him, not cruel, but it still feels like teeth tearing into his throat. All hope isn’t lost, though, because even through her laughter her gaze is fond and sweet. Perhaps she’s seen him time and time again, too. It isn’t easy to hide when you’re as large and difficult to settle as König.

The fox beckons him closer with a curl of her fingers and a strawberry between her teeth. She drapes an arm over his neck to tug him down to her level and kisses him there, with the berry crushed between their mouths. Bitter as expected, but not a single complaint billows up in his mind.

This sweet fairy does not know what she’s done with that shared bite, how his mind goes doughy and sap sticky when the fruit dissipates between them and his mouth finds her own.

He wonders if she does this often, seduces larger beasts to toy with and steal from to continue her reckless romping through the forest, drift off further to the mountains and the sea, endlessly searching for the very thing he’s already found with her. It does not escape him how tightly he keeps her in his hold then, nails leaving indentations in her waist as he brings her as closely as he can, licks into her mouth until she shivers.

He would bring her flowers and honeycomb, carve little idols of her from every tree she loves if she would just—

“Will you be my mate?,” he asks, abrupt, face heating up to his very ears as he finally lets her go. A croak, a shameful one that leaves him wanting to scurry off like a rabbit, but she’s already heard it all and stares up at him with a look part doleful, part adoring. The poor thing doesn’t even know him, doesn’t know that he’s already contemplated clearing out the fox dens in the forest and chasing out the wolves to make sure that she was his alone.

If she tossed him into the river now he wouldn’t dare blame her, he would only take it out on the stupid salmon with their glistening tails, and maybe if he brought her back a treasure made of fish bone and scale he could change her mind.

But she only kisses him again, lingers right on his cheek like something a proper lover would do, before telling him that she’s grateful he’s never come to harm her, that he didn’t mind sharing his fruit on those too-hot days when she didn’t feel roused enough to hunt down the mice and the bunnies, and she even appreciated his kiss: something she tells him that had made her feel like nothing else in her life. All of the very things he’s only imagined her saying in that sweet voice she uses to whisper to the pretty flowers and the bright red cardinals tweeting back to her.

He’s never been sweet, but he believes it when she tells him that he is when they’re lying side by side in the cabin later. There’s a bruise on his shoulder the shape of her teeth and one to match of his own making on her thigh. He can’t keep himself from curling his hand around her there, thumb brushing over that purple mark he’s left as he buries his face into her shoulder and catches magnolia in her scent.

“I really like you,” she admits quietly as the night air begins to chill the sweat on their bodies, as she guides his hand up to press a kiss to his fingertips. As if she had no idea just how badly he longed to ruin anything else she’s ever said that to, set the forest ablaze and lie and laugh with her in the ash.

“I love you,” he says in turn, damning himself further as he always did to a somber oblivion. Only, this one doesn’t leave. Not even when his hand pries from her mouth to take hold of her breast and his teeth graze her skin. Her face is warm, eyes misty, like she’s just been given the most hearty helping of something delicious amidst pure famine.

She doesn’t laugh at his confession, doesn’t bat his face away from her nipple, only suggests that they bathe beneath the moon. He can not fault her for not reciting the words; this bout has only made him further intent on pulling her in to keep. He convinces himself that all it would take is time, or a rougher fuck, something. He’s never been too patient, either.

The fox curls into his lap as the water reaches them, head thrown back where she sits, impaled and ecstatic while his fingers drift to her hips, head pressed to her chest where he tells her that she has more than paid him back for what she’s stolen.

She didn’t need to lie or let him sully her out of pity anymore. Testing and prying in his own way, even as he whispers that confession to her again and again, against her clavicle and up to her neck with every languid roll of her hips.

The truth spills from her mouth like rain when she comes undone, a soft sentiment that pulls him below a warm tide, drowned out and washed away only by the words she speaks then and the way her body wraps so snug around him.

She tells him that she wishes to stay like this… for as long as she possibly can.

He carries her home like a princess from some storybook, lies her in his bed and pulls her close with a grip so tight that she whines about it being too hot— that his warmth is almost smothering, but still melts beneath him when his lips find her own again. Breaking away from her feels worse than those hangdog days he had only spent watching her from afar, longing for the things that she had only now allowed for him to feel.

But König swears to her then when her eyes lock to his and her tail begins that gentle swaying again, that no matter what she will be here forever. He’ll make sure of it.

[dreamyvill]

On purpose -2

Roman reigns x oc

Lauren is handling her ex-boyfriend from colleges divorce, he and Lori embark on a journey that proves how things happen for reasons. Either hers or his will it work out this time.

Her thoughts are slanted and this is somewhat proofread.

Previous part

This was my last case as a divorce settlement lawyer before I returned to being a prosecuting attorney. When I first went to law school it was to be a criminal attorney but when I graduated I was desperate to get out of debt and get a job so I settled into a smaller firm that paid well and was able to pay off my debt a few years ago but over time every last case became my last until the next one came along. I meant it this time Joe Is my last case and hopefully it's open and shut.

Making my way into the next conference and meeting I had with Joe walking down the long white minimalist halfway, with bright white lighting and pieces of furniture here and there and a mixture between abstract and a kind of Picasso. Opening the big gray painted white oak door laying eyes on the tall, brown eyes that I hadn’t seen in damn near twenty years, his hair was wrapped in a military style bun with his salt and pepper beard and he smelt more than heavenly when he reached in for a hug before we broke apart. I watched him drink in my grown woman's body. I hadn’t always had the curvy of curves but after college my grown woman body really settled in and I was more than in love with myself.

“Hello Joe, can you give me a bit of background or insight into your marriage over the last few years?” I said sitting down getting right into it sitting himself across from me and the polished oak table that matched the door. Looking back and forth between Joe and my pen and notepad as I waited for him to answer the question.

“Hi Lori, I'm doing great thank you for asking, haven't seen you in a while but that's okay.” he said sarcastically, having a conversation with himself using a bland tone before seeing my face and sitting up clearing his throat. “It was amazing the last few years but i've been working a lot between the traveling and long distance she couldn’t handle it and wanted to divorce about three years ago but I wanted to save us and suggested counseling and that i'd cut back on working and for about seven or so months it worked and everything was blissful but then I got an amazing storyline and it projected my career up and i started making more money but then i was way for way longer and we barely got to see each other and a few months ago she served me and said it was over and she didn’t want to try again.” he listed I wouldn’t dare and say I knew him because he’d changed so much since since id last seen him but i could see sadness in his eyes when he listed off the last few years with his wife Juile.

“Okay so what do you do for work?” I asked, jotting everything he’d just told me.

“I'm a wrestler, including endorsements of at least five million more if I book a lot.” he told me

“Okay and your wife wasn’t able to travel with you?” I asked him looking up.

“No, she gets sick in a car long distance and she works as a trauma surgeon so it’s hard for her to take time.” he explained watching me write it down, before asking my next question i made sure to make direct eye contact with him. “Did you at one point or another cheat on your wife with anyone whether that be emotionally or physically? I need you to be very honest with me.” I asked, waiting for something to change to tell if he was lying. At this point Joe had spoken with firmness in his tone and kept his answers short but detailed.

“No, because i was working so much i was too tired for sex at the end of most days.” he said staying firm with his tone and maintaining eye contact not seeming nervous at all.

“Okay and I don’t expect you to know this but did she at some point cheat on you in any way?” I asked keeping the same vibe, not one of tension but honest and open.

“No, she didn’t” continuing to answer firmly.

“Okay, and during the counsouling what was the conversation like?” i said counting to ask my normal oeping questions.

“Same things i just said working long and late and she felt like we weren’t married anymore and she felt neglected.” he reiterated

“And finally do you have any children?” I asked him

“Five, two set of twins four and six and a older daughter who just made fifteen.” he said making my eyes slightly bulge out of their sockets.

Damn

Hearing his deep chest laugh

“Sorry its just damn anyhow is there anything else i should know?” I asked him.

“No” he quickly gave

“Okay we’ll be intouch and figure out numbers and settlement later it seems like you both are ready to move on, this should be finialized by nexty month.” I said walking him out the door wanting to get the day over with.

Finally getting home just after ten o’clock I was beyond worn out and itching for a bubble bath, unlocking my front door hearing the automated voice announcing my arrival, my mother was standing in my kitchen over the stove.

“Momma, whatcha doing here?” I asked her sitting my briefcase down and stepping out of my heels my height dropping as I took them off one by one. Standing over with her hands in her hips looking at me some kind of way.

“Is that how you speak to someone let alone your momma?” She said with her ‘fix yourself tone’.

“Where Joe?” She asked looking behind where I was sitting and into the walk way.

“At home probably” I said standing and looking through the pot seeing chicken that hasn’t been fried yet as well as red beans with sausage and rice on the stove.

“I told you mama we’re not just going to fall out of the sky into a relationship, I’m just his divorce attorney.” I told her leaving the kitchen to go into my room and take my bath for bed.

Turning the faucet on and filling the tub floor with bubble solution slipping out of my clothes and into the water feeling the water warm and the bubble form on and around my wet body. Taking in a deep breath peacefully before my momma busted into the bathroom.

“Momma!” I said frantically gathering the bubbles to cover me before she smacked her teeth at me and with a wave of her hand said.

“Girl I’ve seen every crevice of your body you ain’t special.” She said sending a small ping to my heart but nonetheless shaking it off.

“That doesn’t matter, momma I’m grown you can’t do that.” I pouted at her. “God why does she always make me feel like a child”

“You worried about the wrong things you need to worry about how you gonna get Joe back, he’s doing more than well for himself with his play fighting.” She pointed

“What happened to this all being immature and besides that was a long time ago.” I said sinking I to the bath wanting her and this conversation to stop.

“Girl money is forever don’t be dumb now I’m going to finish the food and be on my way since you wanna act like you don’t care about nobody.” She said with an attitude walking off. Which made me sigh and just lay there and enjoy the warmth.

Getting out of the tub sometime later I dried my body off and did my nightly routine, slipping into a big tee-shirt before dipping into the kitchen for some food seeing a plate made and everything else cleaned up. Eating my food I thought about yet another guilting conversation with my momma.

I didn’t understand why she flipped from mommy dearest to getting like that. Finishing up and putting away my dish I slipped into bed and allowed sleep to take me.

-

[psychologeek]

It's long and incoherent, bc I'm sick (39.3 bb) and tired and everything hurts. Might try to edit/make a more organised about it later. But anyway.

[ID: a twitter screenshot of a poster in Paris, France, showing an olympic podium. On the the first place, there's a bodybag with two Israeli flags waving on it. The second and third place has missiles on the podium. Under every number (1,2,3) is written "Israel". The whole podium is flooded with blood, dripping and staining it. There's a big writing: "when it comes to killing for sport, there's no competition". Smaller writing: "from using starvation as a weapon of war to bombing hospitals, there's no war crime off limits for the team"./ID end].

So, this is not only wrong and inaccurate (on all accusations), this is also antisemic af. Historically, this is where I'd be telling ppl to be super careful. But I guess we all are. Also love how ppl ignore the bloody history of Olympics. Murder of 11 Israeli participants rings a bell? No? Ah of course. Why would it. Jews being murdered is no news.

Why is it antisemic?

Oh, hello OG blood libels! Didn't miss you at all.

Subtext of this poster is: (The Jews Israelis) Kill for profit (ritualic reasons, sports).

Which is. You know. Very normal thing to do TM.

Why is it problematic?

In England in 1144, the Jews of Norwich were falsely accused of ritual murder after a boy, William of Norwich, was found dead in the woods with stab wounds. William's hagiographer, Thomas of Monmouth, falsely claimed that every year there is an international council of Jews at which they choose the country in which a child will be killed during Easter, because of a Jewish prophecy that states that the killing of a Christian child each year will ensure that the Jews will be restored to the Holy Land. According to Monmouth, England was chosen in 1144, and the leaders of the Jewish community delegated the Jews of Norwich to perform the killing, after which they abducted and crucified William. The legend was turned into a cult, with William acquiring the status of a martyr and pilgrims bringing offerings to the local church. This was followed by similar accusations in Gloucester (1168), Bury St Edmunds (1181) and Bristol (1183). In 1189, the Jewish deputation attending the coronation of Richard the Lionheart was attacked by the crowd. Massacres of Jews at London and York soon followed. In 1190 on 16 March 150 Jews were attacked in York and then massacred when they took refuge in the royal castle, where Clifford's Tower now stands, with some committing suicide rather than being taken by the mob. The remains of 17 bodies thrown in a well in Norwich between the 12th and 13th century (five that were shown by DNA testing to likely be members of a single Jewish family) were very possibly killed as part of one of these pogroms.

~

At Bösing (Bazin, today Pezinok, Slovakia), it was charged that a nine-year-old boy had been bled to death, suffering cruel torture; thirty Jews confessed to the crime and were publicly burned. The true facts of the case were disclosed later when the child was found alive in Vienna. He had been taken there by the accuser, Count Wolf of Bazin, as a means of ridding himself of his Jewish creditors at Bazin.

~

The Massena blood libel was an instance of blood libel against Jews in which the Jews of Massena, New York, were falsely accused of the kidnapping and ritual murder of a Christian girl in September 1928.

On September 22, 1928, two days before Yom Kippur, four-year-old Barbara Griffiths went for a walk and did not come back home.

After a long search by townspeople and state police, a rumor began to circulate that the girl had been kidnapped and killed by the town's Jews for a religious ritual associated with the impending holiday

.....

Barbara Griffiths was found in the woods later that afternoon roughly a mile from her home. She told authorities she had become lost during her walk and slept in the forest. Nevertheless, some citizens of Massena continued to believe that Griffiths had been kidnapped by the Jews. They attributed her safe return to the discovery of the Jews' plot. The mayor may have led a boycott of businesses owned by Jews.

Does it sounds familiar?

"oh, but it was long ago!"

The Matzah of Zion was written by the Syrian Defense Minister, Mustafa Tlass in 1986. The book concentrates on two issues: renewed ritual murder accusations against the Jews in the Damascus affair of 1840, and The Protocols of the Elders of Zion. The book was cited at a United Nations conference in 1991 by a Syrian delegate. On 21 October 2002, the London-based Arabic paper Al-Hayat reported that the book The Matzah of Zion was undergoing its eighth reprinting and it was also being translated into English, French and Italian.Egyptian filmmaker Munir Radhi has announced plans to adapt the book into a film.

~

In 2002, the Hamas leader Abdel Aziz al-Rantisi said, "People always talk about what the Germans did to the Jews, but the true question is, 'What did the Jews do to the Germans?'"[140] Gilad Atzmon stated, "Jewish texts tend to glaze over the fact that Hitler's 28 March 1933, ordering a boycott against Jewish stores and goods, was an escalation in direct response to the declaration of war on Germany by the worldwide Jewish leadership."

~

In 2003, a private Syrian film company created a 29-part television series Ash-Shatat ("The Diaspora"). This series originally aired in Lebanon in late 2003 and it was subsequently broadcast by Al-Manar, a satellite television network owned by Hezbollah. This TV series, based on the antisemitic forgery The Protocols of the Learned Elders of Zion, shows the Jewish people engaging in a conspiracy to rule the world, and it also presents Jews as people who murder the children of Christians, drain their blood and use it to bake matzah.

~

In an address that aired on Al-Aqsa TV, a Hamas run TV station in Gaza, on 31 March 2010, Salah Eldeen Sultan (Arabic: صلاح الدين سلطان), founder of the American Center for Islamic Research in Columbus, Ohio, the Islamic American University in Southfield, Michigan, and the Sultan Publishing Co. and described in 2005 as "one of America's most noted Muslim scholars", alleged that Jews kidnap Christians and others in order to slaughter them and use their blood for making matzos. Sultan, who is currently a lecturer on Muslim jurisprudence at Cairo University stated that: "The Zionists kidnap several non-Muslims [sic] – Christians and others... this happened in a Jewish neighborhood in Damascus. They killed the French doctor, Toma, who used to treat the Jews and others for free, in order to spread Christianity. Even though he was their friend and they benefited from him the most, they took him on one of these holidays and slaughtered him, along with the nurse. Then they kneaded the matzos with the blood of Dr. Toma and his nurse. They do this every year. The world must know these facts about the Zionist entity and its terrible corrupt creed. The world should know this." (Translation by the Middle East Media Research Institute)

~

In April 2013, the Palestinian non-profit organization MIFTAH, founded by Hanan Ashrawi apologized for publishing an article which criticized US President Barack Obama for holding a Passover Seder in the White House by saying "Does Obama, in fact, know the relationship, for example, between 'Passover' and 'Christian blood'...?! Or 'Passover' and 'Jewish blood rituals?!' Much of the chatter and gossip about historical Jewish blood rituals in Europe is real and not fake as they claim; the Jews used the blood of Christians in the Jewish Passover." MIFTAH's apology expressed its "sincerest regret".

~

In a sermon broadcast on the official Jordanian TV channel on 22 August 2014, Sheik Bassam Ammoush, a former Minister of Administrative Development who was appointed to Jordan's House of Senate ("Majlis al-Aayan") in 2011, stated (as translated by MEMRI): "In [the Gaza Strip] we are dealing with the enemies of Allah, who believe that the matzos that they bake on their holidays must be kneaded with blood. When the Jews were in the diaspora, they would murder children in England, in Europe, and in America. They would slaughter them and use their blood to make their matzos... They believe that they are God's chosen people. They believe that the killing of any human being is a form of worship and a means to draw near their god."

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

aita for not inviting a friend of mine into my dnd campaign?

so i (18nb) have a friend (18nb, Martin) who i play in a main dnd campaign with with all our other friends (Ill name them Dan, Virgil, Mark, and Ray). Dan is our DM after we kicked out the old one bc she was horrible. We're a pretty close group of friends, but lately we've all been really busy with respective school & work, ect. so we didnt play dnd for a solid, like,, 4 months. I DMed a one shot for everyone besides Ray cause she was flaky anyway, and added in my boyfriend Zeke for it.

Everyone had a really fun time w it and I loved everyones characters, especially Dan's. I watch a lot of dnd shows, so i just keep getting more ideas- but while the one shot was fun it was messy as hell. Ive been wanting to write a campaign for a smaller group for a while, (because when i tried making a campaign with the whole group the character creations were... disappointing to say the least. this sounds mean but i created a fairy world that was very magical & told everyone to go crazy on character creation in a world with few/no humans, and like 5/6 people opted to be a human with a fighting class :/ )

ive been writing a campaign that im really proud of and have a good vision for, and decided to include Mark (because we're best friends) Zeke (because he wants to play dnd more and has no opportunities) Dan (bc he never gets to be a player) and then another close friend of mine outside the group named Gabe (who i love but never get to see) I love their characters & we're all super excited.

Thing is. I was briefly talking with Dan, Zeke and Mark about it at school bc I'd sent everyone a little intro message for the world and they were all super excited and wanted to talk to me about their classes. Virgil had no problem with this and was excitedly asking abt the world + characters along with some other friends from school, but Martin got quiet and went and sat by himself. I could tell they were off, but Martin is generally a quiet person anyway and is often sad + doesnt want to talk for like a hundred different reasons, so i left her alone. Later that day in a different class I have with Virgil he showed me his phone where Martin had sent him a message saying she was really disappointed & felt left out that i hadnt invited them to my campaign.

i instantly felt bad and started to text him, but,,,, to be honest, i dont think im at all responsible for this.

i have reasons for leaving Martin out, the main one being that they just..... arent a very active player. Hes soft spoken and doesnt actually like rping their characters- her character in our main campaign is/was literally mute bc they said they didnt want to have to speak as him. (theyve since taken this back and went through with a curse breaking thing to be able to speak, but her character,,, still doesnt talk much.) he writes really good, sad backstories but doesnt actually play or do anything with them and gets uncomfortable acting. Their characters are not only emotional, but like. crazy. they play a bunch of cool tieflings with insane magic classes & features and then, again,,,, dont roleplay them. I didnt want the group to be big and had a good reason for including everyone that i did, and our other friends that arent in it (Virgil, Ray who is Martins sister btw, all our other d&d interested friends at school) literally dont mind at all. i just wrote a campaign that theyre not in. Martin also has their feelings hurt very easily, so to be honest i just find her being sad about not being in it just... stupid. id never say that to his face & i get that he feels bad, but like....cmon.

im aware im a very very incredibly low empathy person- to be honest i struggle with depression and bpd very heavily and am often mean to my friends & loved ones without really processing why or how much it affects them. i told Virgil that i thought Martins reaction was stupid, and he said that that wasnt fair bc Martin had always been in my campaigns before (which is, yknow, one. Martin and I were even in a campaign with a completely different group a while back and Martin willingly left it very early because the group was loud & their character wasnt doing anything (yeah)). Every time Martins expressed (or i guess not expressed) sorrow for not being invited to it ive just sort of ignored them. this again isnt that uncommon cuz when shes sad he doesnt like to talk about it, and also they havent directly confronted me with this at all.

ive been talking about the campaign a lot because it occupies frankly a lot of my brain because i have so much to write, and i especially talk to the people that arent in it bc theres no risk of slipping up and telling them something they arent supposed to know. The other friend, Gabe, is friends with Zeke and Mark and I, and Dan is good around new people,, but Martins really quiet around people he doesnt know well, so if i invited her anyway they'd probably play the game even less than they already do.

again, im really bad at having an actual perspecitve on this. Virgil said he feels bad for Martin but not for himself, as far as i know Dan doesnt know about the situation, and i literally just dont wanna involve Mark and Zeke (Zeke HATES conflict and when people fight so he really doesnt have to be involved.) Mark Martin and I have all been really close friends since literally 7th grade and I guess Martin especially feels left out that I involved Mark and not them but Marks both really good at character creation and also talking in character, and like, hes my best friend who i do everything with.

I dont wanna blow off Martins emotions but but i truly dont give a shit that they feel betrayed by my not inviting him. especially because they havent bothered actually telling me this. objectively i dont think its my fault even a little, and Martin is really horrible at handling their emotions anyway (this isnt an insult, just a fact. i am too). aita for not inviting him + not caring that shes upset by it and acting like they arent?

sorry this is so long i really like providing context

What are these acronyms?

[arrowhawkart]

Alright what's up everyone! If you do not follow my personal blog fair warning: I have become very suddenly obsessed with Dragon Age and have been playing thru the games for the first time ever- so expect the next chunk of art from me to be very Dragon Age-centric

So Anyways here's Atlas Hawke, the fun little guy I made for my DA2 playthrough and became incredibly attached to much faster than I expected.

More incoherent rambles and thoughts on my Hawke under the cut- it's very stream of consciousness under there and also very very long you've been warned

[ID in Alt Text]

Just like.... wow.... okay so I've now played through Inquisition and finished Trespasser and I've gotta say DA2 really took the cake for me, like by far my favorite of the 3. (Like please don't get me wrong it absolutely had it's issues I'm not saying it was a perfect game or that all the writing choices were amazing) But I just really enjoyed the smaller more personal scale of the conflicts in DA2, I liked that Hawke was even more Just Some Guy, and like yeah the Warden and the Inquisitor aren't like special chosen ones or anything, but they are both tasked with these gigantic world-saving country-spanning quests, and Hawke? Hawke is just a guy trying to do right by his family. Like he doesn't have any world saving mission. He is just trying to Get By and that really made this game hit home more for me than the other two.

I said I was gonna ramble about my Hawke and I just ended up rambling about DA2 itself... whoops. ANYWAYS- Atlas- My Boy Atlas- I recognize that a purple mage Hawke is the most common route people go and I am by no means unique or original, but this game series is very new to me, personally, and I'm having fun anyways. (From here on out I will be talking about my Custom Hawke and not like, Hawke the player character in general)

And gosh I'm such a sucker for complicated and messy family dynamics, and DA2 does that so well. Like the Hawke family is Fucked Up. Bethany gets killed by that ogre while they're fleeing Lothering when she tries to save their mom from said ogre, and Leandra immediately turns and blames Atlas for Bethany's death- and then later in Act 1, Carver, best baby brother Carver, also throws Bethany's death in his face while they're having their own stupid argument which started because Atlas was trying to cheer Carver up and boy did that fail dramatically.

Like Atlas is witty and charming and sarcastic and kind of an asshole sometimes, and comes of as incredibly over confident and cocksure and that's because he's very much been shoved into the role of 'okay you've gotta take care of everything and if you don't everything bad is Your Fault, and since you're in charge of taking care of everything, everything bad is automatically Your Fault No Matter What Anyways.' So he's gotta playact like he has everything all together and under control, because what the fuck is his family gonna do if he doesn't? And underneath all of that he's an incredibly stressed out guy, who does not feel like he can ever let on that he's stressed and making everything up as he goes and just hoping that things work out well.

And like he tries to do the right thing- by god does this man try. He brings Carver with him on the deep roads mission because he and Carver work well together! Carver wants to go! He loves his little brother, there is no one he would rather have by his side than his little brother! There is no one he trusts more than Carver to have his back! Carver and Atlas are incredibly close. Like Carver is the one person who actually recognizes that the way Leandra projects all of her own issues onto them, but like mostly Atlas, is really shitty! He acknowledges that after apologizing for his part in the argument I mentioned above. And then of course Carver ends up getting the Blight during the deep roads mission, because nothing can every go right for them. Thankfully Atlas brought Anders along, so Carver is able to become a Grey Warden instead of DYING, but he has to leave, and Atlas doesn't even find out whether or not Carver survived his joining for months. And of course Leandra blames Atlas for this, she begged him not to bring Carver along with him, and he did anyways and now she's never going to see her youngest son again and it's all Atlas's fault. And that's how Act 1 ends and I just.... Auaghghghghhhh-

And then we've got Act 2, and like mid-way through Act 2 is probably the high point for Atlas. Things peak for him here and then it's all one big snowball downhill from there. So like, Atlas romanced Fenris, because this man is addicted to difficulty, and of course was going to immediately be infatuated with the guy that makes hating mages half his personality. (I mean it wasn't immediate, it was more of a slow build, mutual-trust, to friendship, to lovers thing, especially considering three years pass between Acts 1 and 2) And yeah, Atlas doesn't hide the fact that he's very into Fenris, and Fenris definitely hasn't seemed opposed to this. So after Fenris kills Hadriana and then they get together for one night- Atlas is like, riding the high of what was probably the first positive physical affection he's gotten since Carver let for the Grey Wardens three years ago. And then of course the following morning Fenris immediately breaks things off with Atlas, so what Atlas thought was going to be the start to a romantic relationship, just ends up being an ill-fated one night stand. And like! Atlas does not begrudge Fenris this! He completely understands Fenris's reasons, he is not upset with Fenris at all! He is still just completely crushed though. So yeah, things peaked for Atlas for like one very short night and then start speeding downhill. Because not long after that is when his mom is killed by a fucking serial killer. As if things weren't already fucked enough for Atlas, already having lost his twin younger siblings.

Also side note- I love the fact that DA2 is portrayed as Varric telling the story of Hawke's life to Cassandra, and that we know Varric is an unreliable narrator. Because like Leandra's last words to Hawke being that she's so proud of her strong boy- at least with how Atlas's relationship was with Leandra up to this point- felt so so out of character for Leandra, and I love the headcanon that that's Varric giving his bestie some closure narratively that he never actually got in reality. So like that's canon for Atlas. Because that was Leandra's decapitated head frankensteined onto another woman's body- and magicked into a reanimated corpse that absolutely did not seem like it had any conscious thought- like she was already dead before Atlas showed up. There were no final words. There was no nice narratively satisfying ending to that one. And I like it better that way tbh........

We're just gonna like skip over the whole qunari invasion subplot because I am. Not a fan of how that was handled. Writing wise. Like what the fuck was that. Like I have THOUGHTS about it but they're not gonna go on tumblr. Anyways. Moving on.

Champion of Kirkwall! Yay! Meredith knows he's an apostate mage and is just Waiting for any half-decent excuse to either bring him to the circle, make him tranquil, or kill him? Not yay! Atlas is absolutely good friends with Anders, and has been helping with the mage underground every chance he has. People in the city have been whispering about making him of all people Viscount and he has no idea how to feel about that, like he'd rather not, but who else is gonna do it? And who else would do it and actually give a shit about mages and elves and just like lower class people in general? Like this incredibly stressed out guy does not need more added to his plate, he really doesn't. But he's definitely thinking about it. I mean hey! It's not like he's got any family around to take care of at this point right? Why not just take that eldest daughter syndrome thing he's got going on and use it to fix the city?

The one bright spot for him here is that hey, at least he and Fenris get back together. That one's nice. They both deserve something positive and comforting after all the shit they've been through.

And then Meredith is trying to invoke the right of annulment and Anders blows up the fucking Chantry. And Atlas can't even blame him for it. After 6 or 7 years of painstakingly working to try to find peaceful ways to improve the lives of mages and getting blocked at every turn, with the knowledge that Meredith has been getting worse and worse and worse, and has been actively looking for any excuse to invoke the right of annulment and just kill every single mage in Kirkwall? And Grand Cleric Elthina has been absolutely no help, and has absolutely been subtly on Meredith's side the entire time. Like at a certain point, violence really does feel like the only option left. When you've been backed this far into a corner.

So obviously Atlas takes the side of the mages, doesn't kill Anders, is honestly like 'my dude, my buddy, my guy, my best pal(aside from Varric, and my boyfriend Fenris) why didn't you tell me? I would've helped you on purpose.' He's elated when Carver shows up during that final push to the Gallows, like the whole situation is absolutely shit, and it'd definitely be better if his beloved brother was no where near danger, but he's a Grey Warden now so that's not even an option anyways. So it's just nice to have him around even during such an intensely stressful moment. Honestly everything is so unbelievably fucked at this point that Atlas isn't even stressed anymore. Like things literally cannot get worse. He's kind of riding the high of things not being able to get worse. Or maybe that's just adrenaline. Who knows. Aveline and Sebastian both leave, Atlas is unbothered. Doesn't even try to convince Aveline to side with him later either, like he's never really gotten along with her, and he did not like how she treated Carver. Fenris and everyone else stick around, and that's what matters to Atlas, like all the people he was actually close friends with stick with him in this moment (Fenris, Varric, Isabella, Merrill, Anders, & Carver)

And then yeah, they save the mages, defeat Meredith, leave Kirkwall with the renegade mages. Everyone goes their separate ways due to one reason or another, except Fenris. At least Atlas does get to keep one positive close relationship around.

[starimusprime]

im curious, considering the way you write oplita (which is beautiful btw if i could, id give ur fics a kissie on the forehead) how would you portray their relationship in a sequel to tf:1?? (hopefully we’ll get a sequel 😞😞)

OOOOOO THIS QUESTIONNNN

First of all thank you so much for your compliment! I love writing them so so much, they are utter perfection in my eyes and I will never find enough content focused on them.

Ok ok. REALISTICALLY, this is ONE idea of how I would personally write the progression of their friendship into a romance, keeping in mind that I've only got roughly 2 hours to do so alongside a bunch of other character arcs and the main plot.

TF ONE SPOILERS BELOW

I would spend some time in the beginning and sprinkled throughout the rest of the film exploring the aftermath of D-16's betrayal and Orion's rapid switch from dying by his best friend's hand to being revived as Optimus Prime. I imagine that such an abrupt change - and in the middle of dying a HORRIFIC DEATH - would leave Optimus with some (maybe temporary) mental and emotional issues to work through, with the reformatting of his frame on top of that.

In the beginning, Elita is a steadfast friend (as opposed to a fair weather friend) and helps him lead the Autobots in order to ease his mental load. Secretly (maybe she reveals this to Jazz) she keeps thinking about the fact that she would have jumped into the Well of AllSparks after Orion if B-127 hadn't stopped her. It bothers her until later on when some smaller event triggers her to realize that she loves Optimus as more than just a friend. She fears that if she tells him this too soon, she could overwhelm him or scare him off (since he's still dealing with the extreme trauma he recently endured), and this results in her subconsciously distancing herself from him.

Up to this point, Optimus might have been trying to assure Elita that he's fine and genuinely believing that he is. But now when he feels the effect of Elita being less present with him (maybe he has an emotional breakdown or smth and she isn't there like she usually is) he has the realization that not only is he not fine, but he cannot work through everything alone, and most importantly there is no one he would rather do this with than Elita.

Cue mutual pining, Elita doesn't want to overwhelm him with her feelings, Optimus doesn't want to make Elita feel pressured to reciprocate his feelings because he's the Prime, then insert climactic battle with the Decepticons or sabotage mission against the Quintessons or whatever here. Big things happen, and there it is. Optimus needs to make a decision. It could be emotionally taxing, or bring his trauma back to the surface, or what have you. But Elita is there, and she is his reason to push himself aside and fight, or make the decision he needs to make for the good of Cybertron.

After the climax, they both understand that life is too short and fate too unpredictable to postpone something as important confessing one's love for another. It wouldn't be the primary element of the end of the film, but they would have a moment, tense at first (maybe Elita disobeyed an order that got her injured in the battle and Optimus was mad at her for almost dying, but now he's just grateful that she's okay). Tension would give way to awkwardness or shyness as they talk quietly about something war-related, until finally one of them opens up, incapable of holding in their true feelings any longer. The other would be startled by the abrupt confession, but then it all makes sense.

Maybe they wouldn't kiss in that moment...but they definitely would in a post-credits scene!

[david-goldrock]

Id like to compliment your hebrew song choices for translation, if youd like no criticism stop reading here and סופ״ש נעים

If you dont mind, id like to note that the approach you seem to be taking prioritises approximating a 1:1 ratio between the original lyrics and your translations rather than conveying the meaning and imagery more eloquently. I feel that a lot of the beauty of the original text is lost when you go about it like this, maybe you should read english prose to get a feel for a natural and smooth lyricsm. Much love.

first of all, THANKS!

second of all, you are VERY right, this is a very deliberate choice, and it has its downsided

For the monolinguals: any complicated text CANNOT be actually translated one-to-one. all translations flow between "literal text oriented" and "meaning oriented", between "original grammar following" to "translated grammar following", and how much the meter and rhymes are kept.

My favorite example is the second verse of Ecclesiastes. In hebrew it goes like this:

"הבל הבלים אמר קהלת, הבל הבלים הכל הבל"

How would you translate it?

Let's start by writing the text in english letters, so the problem is more easily shown:

Hevel Havalim amar Kohelet, Hevel Havalim haokl Hevel

Now let's tackle the easy words

Hevel Hevels said Kohelet, Hevel Hevels everything is Hevel

Now there are 3 stuff to tackle

Kohelet: it is used as a name, but most scholars agree it's a title for Solomon, meaning something like "He who gathers a crowd". should it be translated as a name or a title? maybe as the name of the book in the christian world, Ecclesiastes?

Hevel: It's a very complicated word, it represents a fleeting breath, but also fleetingness itself, and also meaninglessness itself. many choose meaningless or meaninglessness in this verse, but another verse the author calls childhood Hevel, should we believe that the author means that childhood is meaningless? maybe it should be fleeting in this context?

<x> <x>s: a hebrew expression meaning "The most something of something", for example "king of kings" would mean "The most king of the kings" or "The most important king of the kings" or "The king over all the kings". Should it be translated in the simplest way (king of kings) or with added interpretation (the king over all the kings)?

How did the official translators handle it? they didn't Here are a few options they chose:

I could continue for ages, it seems like every single translation translated these lines differently

Add to that the fact that even though I read english prose and listen to english songs, my vocubulary is obviously smaller than a mother-tongue speaker, and the choice becomes very easy

I translate as literally as I can (most of the time). I often add context in (red brackets), but no more than that. The reader can use their imagination to find the english version (or native language for a double-translation mess) they think fits the most, but I will make a very literal translation

That is with one main exceptions: phrases that mean different things in hebrew and english. for example, the hebrew לעשות חשבון does have a literal translation: doing math. but in english, doing the math means something like "adding one plus one", and not at all the hebrew meaning of "caring about what people think of you". In cases like these, I try to add a bit of interpretation, and sometimes write the original in red brackets

These are not strong rules by any means, I am doing this for fun after all, sometimes I get lazy, sometimes I forget that something is a phrase and automatically translate the meaning etc. But this is the reason

If someone else wants to go after the translations and add more interpretation so it sounds poetic, I'd be ecstatic. But to do that, I'd need to be able to write english songs and prose myself, and I am not of that level yet

If someone wants to see what that approach to translation looks like, may I recommend the amazing translation of "hallelujah" to Yiddish. it translated the meaning to Yiddish, and then the literal text to the english subtitles, showing exactly what it looks out

[mysterycitrus]

Do you mind elaborating what you mean by the cool girlfriend archetype in your Barbara Gordon post? What do you feel about James Gordon (Barbara’s brother)? Do you think he was a good addition or not a good addition to that family? When you think about the Gordons they really would be a very dysfunctional family but admittedly I kind of wish he wasn’t portrayed as some serial killer. I know Jim had sons before the creation of Barbara and then later Barbara had an older brother and then it kept changing, but I would have liked to have seen the Gordon have a much bigger family especially since the Gordons play a part within Gotham. Barbara just having a lot of brothers and comics centered around their dynamic.

i actually disagree — babs is surrounded by enough men in her life, and i don’t think having a lot of brothers would be helpful in her development as a character. her smaller immediate family is a good point of comparison to bruce’s family. additionally, having a lot of brothers immediately encourages a specific character beat, being the tomboy who’s a competent physical fighter “because i have x number of older brothers,’ etc, which is not babs at all. she’s entrenched enough with the bats, and i greatly prefer that most of her significant relationships are with women. id also say that she has very powerful only child energy, imo.

that also ties into what i was talking about with the cool girl thing — babs as she’s often portrayed in current comics (especially nightwing) reminds me a lot of amy’s monologue from gone girl. babs pre-2011 was a very difficult person for a lot of reasons. she was very loving, very opinionated, and very controlling. i actually really enjoy their relationship from this period, but only because there was equilibrium and they were both allowed to be themselves. in the new comics, tom taylor doesn’t give babs her personality, and as a result she’s a sassy, flat, hot woman for dick to date. she’s just very tepid, and the fact that she’s still batgirl just makes it worse.

for ur other question, when ur looking at the gordons as a unit, it’s important to remember why they arent a big family. jim gordon cheated on his first wife with sarah wesson in batman year one, just before his son is born. in post-crisis continuity, babs also isn’t jim gordon’s bio daughter, she’s actually his niece (although their relationship is clearly that of a parent + child). honestly, i like their dynamic as a father and daughter duo, and i don’t think adding more kids would improve it. i do also really enjoy black mirror, but jim jr being a serial killer can be lazy writing, although i also like his dynamic with both dick and babs and his dad. he could be an interesting angle for jim gordon to examine his own violence, and how jim justifies the actions he’s taken in his life, but i don’t have much hope of that happening.

[era-the-witchy-birdkid]

DP X DC Prompt/Idea

Long time writer for the DC fandom (mostly Batman specifically Tim Drake joins the batfam early AUs and Titans Tower AU) on Archive, Danny Fenton also known as Astroboy2025, decides three days after his ‘Accident’ to create a Jason wakes up a Halfa in his coffin fic. He only does this to help himself process his emotions after well lets be honest his death and revival. And later once the ghost attacks pick up and he picks up the mantle of a hero as a way to covertly get advice/figure out on how to fight ghosts better by transplanting all his ghosts into Gotham for Fic!Jason to fight.

Danny wasn’t expecting much to come from this, he wasn’t expecting the fic to blow up in popularity for ‘creative storylines’ and ‘unique original villains with a ghostly flare to go against the ghostly Robin now named Phantom’ it was just a vent fic with a bit of wishful thinking on his part with Ghost!Jason and Bruce's relationship being so close (He ends up writing Jason getting hugs and affirmations that Bruce still loves despite all the ghost stuff that happening now whenever his Parents go on a tirade about how all ghosts are evil and need to be ripped apart molecule by molecule)

He definitely wasn't expecting his fans to find out about the real Phantom and figure out his identity from there. (Blame Penelope Spectra she had a history unlike the others in his rogues gallery with a bloody trail across America of sharply increase Suicide rates in more isolated smaller cites/large towns that was being tracked by Redditers that had hard stopped in Amity park just a few days before he dropped the chapter of Jason facing her himself)

While the Amity Park tourism to see a IRL Hero in action, and the Anti-Ecto acts Riots, as they would later be called, made by DC fans throwing a fit about the threat to the world’s first superhero were the lesser consequence in the grand scheme of things. Finding his fan Discord was a trip and a half especially since Tucker had to hack into it into the first place because his fans we're extremely protective of his secret ID and reinforced the server a crapton to be stronger then most banks.

While Sam was insisting on this being a horrible Idea and he should try to dissuade his thousands of fans from the truth of his Identy. Danny was just chill with it after the brief panic. And the Fan Discord was super helpful for getting Advce with! while the jokes that he was Batman Adoption bait was annoying the group was amazing for ideas on how to train his powers and advice on how to better fight ghosts. the Discord even make a Power list for him so he wouldn’t forget a power because he wasn’t training it. plus the comfort they gave after Circus Gothica was A+ even with the jokes about how the Batfam curse of clown trauma, despite matching the look as a human batman isn’t real so as much as his fans joke about him being the prefect Bat bait that will not happen.

To bad after a particularly nasty ghost hate rant in front of him in ghost form while being shot at by his parents that before the server would spawn 3 chapters of Family fluff in his fic, was whatched angrily by a fan who in a fit of annoyed rage said these words. “I really wish batman WAS real, then maybe you could be safe in your home for once”

unfortunately Desiree was out and about and heard the wish granted she had no idea who Batman was so went to read the DC comics after that. Good news the DC universe is so messed up as is that Desiree decided no twisting was necessary she’d just to bring everything to life. Bad news all the supervillains now exist along side the now existing superheros and Desiree is now Kaiju sized and now way to powerful for Danny to deal with alone... 

At least the now real Batfam are taking their sudden existence well? and are willing to help Danny stop the Mad Genie dispite the risk that they would pop into nonexistence (with the entire city of Gotham and the other cities, villains, and heroes made real by Desiree’s power) if she’s stopped

[catbeeisafraid]

I don’t have like a ton to say about this but I have mixed feelings- also spoilers ✨

I like Crystal I really do but at times her dialogue bothered me and some of her behavior was kind of obnoxious to me- like at times when she started aggressively inserting herself into situations and just kind of made it about her? Like in episode seven (though this happened many other times too) where she was having a total fit about not going to hell when it’s clearly for her own good and not about her no matter how much she cares? and I totally understand that this is her being written as an immature teenager who hasn’t been dead or a teen for 30-100 years but as a teenager this sort of selfish immature writing kind of gives me icky feelings because I know so many people who are mostly emotionally intelligent not just raging all the time.- and I mean that for a lot of teenagers and teen girls in writing, to make them tough and likable they are made volitile and annoying which to me is not likable (my opinion, I just don’t like the trope that’s not what I’m talking about right now anyway-) I do think she had good development and I liked her a lot better by the end, some people on other forums were saying that her actress was weaker than the rest of the cast and I don’t really know about that? I think maybe she was artificial at times but I’m blaming that on the writing. I also didn’t like her dialogue about her “crazy demon ex” either, it felt very forced? -Not her emotions about the whole mind cage thing I get that but just all of the “UGH WHY ARE THEY SO FUCKING NOSY IM JUST TRYING TO GET OVER MY STUPID STUPID CRAZY ABUSIVE STALKER DEMON EX BOYFRIEND UGHHH ILL DOUBLE KILL THOSE BOYS IF ITS TGE LAST THING I DO” that felt out of place to me- Lastly I get that this is also an aspect of her teenager-ness but I didn’t like the amount she cursed? I have no qualms with cursing but it felt to me like when little kids and middle schoolers start cursing where they just explosively yell fuck when like literally nothing warranting that kind of expletive has happened? She curses too often it makes her sound really stupid? Like the ep 7 “take me to hell I won’t die” thing, she was screaming at Charles who was being pretty reasonable like “fuck that I’m going he’s my fucking friend too fine then fuck it- fuck you ill find another way to get to hell” like yes she was emotional but that isn’t what teenagers sound like guys?

idk- I’d love to hear what other people think and to be clear I do like her I just focused on the negative- I guess it’s a human thing. She had lots of strong points just I ending up not liking how much she was on screen, this isn’t really about you? It’s about the dead boy detective? Give me more ghosts or Edwin or Charles or Jenny or Niko or Mr walrus please? They were fun I like them? I just felt like there were times where she was over shadowing Edwin and Charles and they are what’s actually important to the show? I think I’d like her more in smaller doses- I felt like I spent too much time having to stop and be like “girl step back this is not about you, you are not the star right now”

and to the argument of her actress being inexperienced or over acting or just not great- I have no specific feelings on this but like the other main cast had for the most part very little screen acting experience and were Fantastic so i don’t know what to feel in that area? so yes, i think crystal is an interesting character and i think she grew on me and developed in the season but i also definitely think that she’s annoying and I’m conflicted because i don’t want to not like her-..

what are your thoughts? Id love to hear different perspectives but please be nice to me because I’ll probably delete this and cry (unless that was your goal, then carry on)

that was all like super ramble-y sorry- but I hope I communicated semi accurately! Thank you

[i-cant-sing]

About that ask of being a published writer, maybe you should consider writing in English so that way more people will be able to read it? Considering it is most people's second learned language

but it doesnt always mean more people can read english = more books will be sold. if my native language is only spoken in my small country, then i have a better chance of selling more books to a smaller audience BUT they get to read stuff that is rarely written about. besides, idk how to explain it to u guys but things in your native language just hit different. so say if i wanted to be a poet and my native language was arabic but i knew other languages too, I'd still pick arabic over everything because omg have yall read arabic love poems????????????

then again, i also believe that luck plays a huge part in everything so.... yeah. statistics might not matter sometimes.

maybe i could write it in both languages, hm? *gasps* OMG WHAT IF I GIVE TWO DIFFERENT TYPES OF ENDINGS IN EACH LANGUAGE AND SO PEOPLE WILL FORVEVER BE CONFUSED AND END UP BUYING BOOK IN THE OTHER LANGUAGE AND MIGHT EVEN LEARN A NEW LANGUAGE AND HAHAHAHA ID BE MINTING MONEY AND EDUCATING PEOPLE HEHEHE