#it sounds even worse in my native language

[echoesofadream]

hang on so taehyung apparently sings “lady, lady, let us talk til the moons asleep” for a JAZZY song (I mean all his unreleased tracks are but) and now every taekooker as delusional as myself knows that taehyung is very much a gay man now what does this mean for us? Well it obviously means that taehyung has a jazz collab coming with none other than lady gaga! I mean come on! he literally said she was his favorite jazz artists or something, like hes gay so hes gonna love her but hes also weird so he only likes her jazz album which no one else listens to im crying.and lady gaga literally held him like the patron and legend she is and told him hes a star. god op so fucking true. send post

EDIT well this post aged like milk. welp 

[rafedarling]

i love to see when wife still pregnant with Rustyn or Sissy, she can’t eat anything because of her morning sickness so Drew make her favorite food to help her feel better. Drew would carefully preparing a spread of fresh fruit, toast, and ginger tea—anything that might ease her nausea. I know that man would be so sweet and take care of both of them 🥹

𝐰𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐧 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬

pairing: dad!drew starkey x mom!reader

summary: four months into your second pregnancy, morning sickness hits harder than you ever expected. with drew’s unwavering support and rustyn’s adorable attempts to cheer you up, you realize that even in the most exhausting moments, your family’s love makes everything better.

warning(s): english is not my native language. pregnancy symptoms (morning sickness, fatigue), mentions of food, and extreme fluff.

au: like, reblog and feedback are much appreciated. discussion can be send through my ask box, please feel free to send in anything. ⭐️ taglist | tagging: @rubixgsworld @rafeyslamb @bisexualcvnt @tracymbcm @maybankslover @anamiad00msday @stuffyownswrld @httpsdrewstarkey @mileyraes @enjoymyloves @akobx @noobmazter69 @victwrvale @xoxohoneymoongirl @xoxosblogsblog @wearemadeofstardust0 @saviorcomplexrry @percysley @littlelamy @winniemoe @emberaurora @watercolorskyy @kravitzwhore

It’s 4:07 a.m., but it feels like time has stopped. You’re sitting on the cold bathroom floor, your back against the wall, trying to steady your breathing. The nausea that’s plagued you all week is worse tonight, a relentless wave that refuses to let you rest. Drew crouches beside you, one hand rubbing slow, soothing circles on your back, the other brushing a damp strand of hair from your face.

“Baby, are you feeling better now?”

Drew asks, his voice laced with concern.

You’re too exhausted to answer, your body drained from the constant sickness. Instead, you give him a small nod, leaning your head against the cool tiles.

It’s been four months into this pregnancy, and you’ve already noticed how much more challenging it is compared to when you were carrying Rustyn. Back then, the nausea was manageable, and you had bursts of energy to get you through the day. This time, the morning sickness is… unforgiving, leaving you weak and overwhelmed.

Drew watches you carefully, his blue eyes filled with worry.

“Let me know if you need anything, okay? I’ll be downstairs making you a matcha tea.”

His voice is gentle, like he’s afraid to disturb your fragile state.

“Thank you, baby,”

You whisper, your voice barely audible. You let him help you back to bed, lying down slowly, grateful for the comfort of the sheets. Drew tucks you in with a kiss on your forehead before heading downstairs.

Unbeknownst to both of you, a sleepy-eyed Rustyn has woken up and shuffled out of his room, clutching his favorite stuffed dinosaur, already intuitive, sensing when something’s off. Hearing the sounds of his dad in the kitchen, he pads down the stairs in his little dinosaur-print pajamas.

“Dada?”

Rustyn calls out, rubbing his eyes as he enters the kitchen.

Drew turns, surprised to see his son awake at this hour.

“Hey, buddy. What are you doing up? It’s still early.”

Rustyn blinks up at him, his voice soft.

“Mama sick?”

Drew crouches down to Rustyn’s level, brushing his curls out of his face.

“Yeah, Mama’s not feeling so good this morning. She needs some rest.”

Rustyn’s little face scrunches in thought before he tugs on Drew’s sleeve.

“I want to help Mama?”

Drew smiles, his heart swelling at Rustyn’s determination.

“You want to help me make something for her?”

Rustyn nods enthusiastically, his sleepiness forgotten.

“Soup!” he exclaims, the word coming out in a high-pitched squeal.

Drew chuckles.

“Alright, soup it is. Let’s make some chicken soup for Mama.”

Rustyn climbs onto a stool by the counter, watching intently as Drew gathers the ingredients. He’s too little to do much, but Drew lets him “help” by handing him pre-washed herbs to place in a bowl.

“Good job, buddy,” Drew says, ruffling Rustyn’s hair.

Rustyn beams, proud of his contribution.

“Mama loves soup.”

“I think she’ll love it,”

Drew replies, his heart melting at how much Rustyn cares.

While the soup simmers, Drew brews some matcha tea, making sure it’s not too hot. He pours it into your favorite mug, setting it carefully on a tray alongside a bowl of soup.

“Breakfast in bed for Mama,”

Drew announces, lifting the tray.

Rustyn trails behind him, clutching his stuffed dinosaur.

“Me too!”

When they enter the bedroom, you’re lying on your side, your eyes half-closed. The sound of Drew’s voice and Rustyn’s little footsteps make you stir.

“Morning, Mama,” Drew says softly, setting the tray down on the nightstand.

Rustyn climbs onto the bed with determination, his little hands reaching for yours.

“Mama, we make soup!” he says proudly, his face lighting up as he hands you the stuffed dinosaur.

“Dino make you feel better!”

You can’t help but smile, your heart swelling at the sight of your son’s effort.

“Thank you, baby,” you say, pulling him into a hug.

“And thank you, Dino.”

Drew sits beside you, helping you sit up slowly.

“Here, take it easy,” he says, handing you the mug of tea.

The warmth of the tea and the smell of the soup make you feel a little more human. You sip the tea, letting the bitterness calm your stomach. Rustyn snuggles up next to you, his tiny hand resting on your growing belly.

“Mama, is baby in there?”

Rustyn asks, looking up at you with curious eyes.

You nod, placing your hand over his.

“Yep, your little sibling is in there.”

Rustyn grins, his excitement contagious.

“I’ll be big brother!”

“You’ll be the best big brother,”

Drew says, leaning over to kiss the top of Rustyn’s head.

“Mama and the baby are so lucky to have you.”

Rustyn giggles, his laughter filling the room.

After finish your tea and manage a few spoonfuls of soup, you feel a little better, though still tired. Drew takes the tray and sets it aside, lying down next to you. Rustyn climbs onto Drew’s chest, his favorite place to cuddle, and the three of you settle into the quiet comfort of the morning.

“Thank you,” you whisper, your eyes meeting Drew’s.

“For what?” he asks, brushing a strand of hair from your face.

“For being you. For taking care of me. For teaching Rustyn to be so thoughtful.”

Drew smiles, his hand resting on your belly.

“We’re a team, remember? And you’re the strongest person I know.”

You lean into him, feeling grateful despite the challenges of this pregnancy. With Drew’s unwavering support and Rustyn’s adorable enthusiasm, you know you’re not alone.

As you drift off to sleep, Rustyn’s tiny voice cuts through the quiet.

“Mama, baby okay?”

“Baby’s perfect,” you murmur, your heart full.

[k1mbe3rly]

HII!! i'm not a very active tumblr user but i discovered your account a day or two ago and the things you write are so impressive and beautiful!! ⭐ and if you don't mind i have a request for you i know it will sound really stupid but i'm just curious. can you write something about thanos and y/n having dated since high school and after playing mingle in the squid game y/n and thanos went to the bathroom to do something at night🤗 and y/n told thanos that she was 2 or 3 months (i don't know how long it took to figure it out😭) pregnant and since she found out she's been using pills to abort the baby (it's not her first time, and the reason is because she doesn't trust her own motherhood since she grew up with deficiencies)?? i said a lot, i'm sorry💗💗(i know it sounds so weird😔 and if there are any spelling mistakes sorry it's not my native language) Tysm in advance🎀🎀

yess sorry it took so longggg im going from the bottom of my request💔

Sorry for not telling you

warnings: just making out, pregnancy, mentions of abortions

You and thanos have been dating since high school, honestly you yourself is surprised how you even managed to last this long with him, he just seemed like the type to cheat and treat you wrong but he actualt never did which was surprising to you

He was a very sweet man and boyfriend, always treating you well and didn’t really talk to any women, so that was a good head start but sadlyyy yall both got into debt, so in the middle of random station a man came up to you guys, played a game, got slapped, almost fought the guy but held him back.

He gave us a card and we decided to call it as we both got picked up and suddenly fell asleep with this random gas they put.

The moment you woke up you immediately went to find Thanos as he placed his hands on your forearm and you placed your hands on his arms “Oh my gee! Your here oh my god i was worried!” he said quickly hugging you as you hugged him back, “Where the hell are we?” the first thing you said as he looked at you

“No idea, looks like shit tho, all these beds in the way..many for us eh?” he said smirking and raising an eyebrow jokingly obviously.

You nervously chuckled and looked away, you haven’t been completely honest with him.

For the past 2 months you’ve been throwing up like crazy, avoiding every moment of intimacy, before you called that card, you bought a pregnancy and came out positive, you’ve also tried taking abortion pills thinking it would even work yet it didn’t so you kinda panicked and to make it worse you haven’t told him yet and still feel you shouldn’t especially if we’re here.

So we did end up going into the games and to find out they were death games, you felt so stressed out during red light green light, you even clinged onto thanos since you started feeling a little sick.

Ever since that game he’s been watching over you, sure he noticed your behavior was a bit different but he brushed it off thinking it was just because of the games.

Time skip

The second game came, and you were lowkey even more stressing out but thankfully thanos was clinging onto you the whole game and even kicked out someone of the group just for you, you felt so bad for the person who got killed and even looked back at him but you know your life or his life.

“2 players” you heard a familiar ai women like voice say, It didn’t take long for thanos to literally yank you and run.

He pushed by people and even grabbed a girls hair pulling her back as you gasped, he pushed you into the room first and quickly went in panting, “Holy shit that was intense..” he said putting a hand to his chest, his chest rising up and down rapidly, “Are you okay?” he asked as you nodded.

You started too feel a bit sick as you put a hand on your stomach making a small face, “what’s wrong? your stomach hurt?” he asked again “N-no i just feel really nauseous..” you said hoping he gets a hint as he nodded, “Well the game is over, i’m sure it’s all the blood..” he said

They took us back to the beds as you still felt nauseous but just brushed it off, they gave us dinner which was only like 5 rolls..and a fork? like?

Not that long after dinner Thanos lead you to the bathroom, he smirked at you as he closed the door, “What are you doing..?” you asked as he grabbed your waist and pulled you towards him “i’ve missed feeling your body against mine you know” he said looking down at you as you just chuckled.

He kissed you and you kissed him back, everything was all good, the kiss was great, but eventually one kiss turned into a heated makeout as he kissed you a bit more aggressively

his hands traveled to your waist to the waistband of the sweatpants and slowly tried pulling them down but you quickly grabbed his hands, you pulled back from the kiss and looked at him, “What? what’s wrong? why don’t you wanna like..have sex anymore?” he asked in a bit of confusion, “Thanos..i have to uhh tell you something” you told him softly

“What, what is it?” he asked his hands going back to your waist, “I-i know i’m telling you this so late but for the past 2 months i’ve been feelings really..sick”

“Sick? sick like how? are you dying baby?” he asked “What? no..? i’ve just been throwing up every morning and feeling nauseous, and like..i’ve just been feeling weird so before we came here i bought a test..” you told him

He looked at you densely and just blinking awkwardly “test? like a covid test? oh my god are you positive?” he asked his mouth slightly parted

You got annoyed and rolled your eyes “No thanos! i don’t have covid!” you said

“Than what? what test! come on tell me already!” he said slightly inpatient

“I’m pregnant!” you yelled out

He stared at you, his eyes widen and he stayed quiet, he slowly backed up rubbing his forehead

“I’m sorry i know i should’ve told you sooner! i’ve been taking abortion pills but there literally a scam! i understand if you don’t wanna stay with me-.” you begin explaining as you felt emotional

“Wait what? your taking abortion pills!? y/n your hurting OUR BABY!” he said quickly getting on the floor and sliding to your waist touching your belly (sorryy i found this funny thinking he would do that like that usher meme😭)

You stared down at him blankly as he puts his head to your stomach “Oh my gosh you’re crazy.. don’t take those anymore! i’m ready to become a father. We’re gonna make it out of here! and have this baby together” he said looking up at you

You smiled at him touching his hair, “I hope so..”

“But can we just do one more game baby? please..” he said pleading up at you, you quickly frowned and rolled your eyes “C’mon please baby, the more money the best for the baby”

“Fine..just one more.” you said quietly as he yelped up and hugged you and kissed your cheek, you smiled, he took you back to the beds and voting started, obviously picking ‘O’ for him

A couple minutes after the voting it was a tie, His name Nam-su? Nam-gyu? motioned him to the bathroom after he saw someone go in, player 333, thanos glared for a moment and looked at you “I’ll be back okay baby? i need to take a wiz real quick..” he said getting up and giving you one last kiss as you nodded.

Who knows? maybe that’s the last time you will ever see him, maybe you will never see him come out that bathroom again, maybe that would be the last kiss he gave you. Nobody knows where they might end up.

[elodieunderglass]

I'm not as familiar with LOTR as you are, so I wondered if you could tell me if my wild theory is completely off-base.

No one knows where the Hobbits came from, except that at some point they diverged from the line of men. No one knows much about the Entwives' appearance, but we do know that they fucked off a long time ago.

Could the Entwives have been dryad-ish and hooked up with the hobbits' ancestors and so be the foremothers of the hobbits?

Ah I think I saw that post! The concept has a lot of charm, and when the Tolkien estate loses its corpse-grip on the property in 2050 or so, I think you should write it and sell it 😤 I’ve definitely read some good takes on entwives in fanfiction that both leaned into canon and moved away, and I think that sounds like good fun to explore. A common theme in the fandom is playing with Yavanna, the Green Lady, being the mother or patron of hobbits. This isn’t canonical, but she’s a “green goddess” archetype and is married to Mahal/Aulë, the father of dwarves, which shippers often leverage to their advantage. You could do something quite charming there with Yavanna if you wanted to. We also know that Entwives loved gardens and orchards rather than forests.

Some things I would explore with this include:

what is going on with all these consistent ideas of people, races, women disappearing. We know that a lot of it is how Tolkien processed an almost OCD-like Catholic framing of “the fallen world is getting worse and can never be repaired”, war experiences, romanticism and other stuff stewing in his old man head. What are some ways you could show what’s stewing in your head? What does “people disappearing” mean to you? and why is it especially healing that they disappeared in order to make new families?

I think “they disappeared from their old kin and made new kin” is an interesting and weird thing worth wondering about!

- this would possibly make hobbits a more recent race than is implied. What does that mean to you?

- why are hobbits teeny tiny?

A very good starting point, that Terry Pratchett used a lot, is taking some grand statement in fantasy fiction, and making it reflect a different political reality. “Most dwarves are girls actually.” “Wizards parody academia, but, like, FOR REAL.”

I personally have a different take because of my own political feelings and framings! I have a lot of complex feelings about Tolkien chickening out of hobbits. For various political reasons I personally have to take the stance that they are fully human, fully indigenous, and have their own native language. and that their disappearance is less “teehee we lost them” or “O, the Catholic guilt of the Fallen World, how far we have fallen from the light of the two trees God’s sinless light” and a lot more “oh yeah I’ve seen THAT pattern before.”

If you have a political sort of lens on, someone telling you “yeah… hobbits came from nowhere 🤭 and then disappeared 🤷‍♀️ sad!” is a story that can also invite the response of “OHhhhh you wanted their LAND real bad, huh.” Like, we know what that means, right.

It’s a political stance for me. Hobbits have to be close enough to us to touch, and we have to be able to face that, and the fact that 5,000 media properties will chew on tolkienelves and sell them to you before even admitting to the 🤭 just makes it even more of a 🤨. To me.

…But I have literally just been elbow deep in my own demented fanfic thing that involves inventing a language just to swear in, to enable my standing on a box shouting HOBBITS OUGHT TO RESIST GOING EXTINCT ACTUALLY, based entirely on, I think, spite. Why do multiple authors publish orc football games (Terry Pratchett) and orc coffeeshops (Legends and Lattes guy) and do every damned thing with every bit of Tolkien’s corpse but refuse to look directly at hobbits. I am feral over this and wrote 59k words so far to damage and harm my friends

In conclusion I see a great story shape there about kindred and I think you should explore it and it should be about evolutionary biology and women and divorce and nobody being wrong.

And if anyone argues you with some podcast boy “well actually”, just bite them and do more character work and sit on their heads

[mosaickiwi]

(sorry for any mistakes, English is not my native language) Hello, I hope you are doing well! Can I ask you for a drabble about the wedding day of an emotional MC who burst into tears because she thought that this day would never come and REDACTED, but without the “lavish ceremony” (lots of guests, wedding suits, huge celebration, etc.) (please forgive me, I hope I was able to express myself clearly, thank you very much and have a nice day!) ฅ'ω'ฅ

!!!

By law I must post wedding fic on Valentine's Day!!!

14 Days With You is an 18+ Yandere Visual Novel. MINORS DNI

~Wedding Day~

You nervously toyed with the ring in your palm, heart racing so hard it hurt. It was still difficult to believe what was happening. This was happening.

It was the same golden ring your partner had worn since you first met him. There wasn't a moment you ever saw them without it as he changed from a shy, stuttering mess in a cardigan to the clingy, dark-haired brat of a man you fell in love with more and more each day. Although the amount of rings they wore had grown.

That fateful day on the playground was something you couldn't even remember, and from what your companion told, you didn't want to. The second try was a far better memory for the both of you anyway. You were the one who proposed that time, catching them by complete surprise with the confidence you never usually had to ask anything of him. But you managed to do it.

And now you were the one who would put a ring on their finger.

“We haven't even started the vows,” [REDACTED] quietly said, pulling you from your thoughts. “Y'can’t be cryin’ just yet, Angel.”

“Am I crying?” The words came out hoarse from your already tightening throat. You hadn't realized. Sure enough, hot tears were streaming down your face as he gently wiped at them with his thumb. 

You tried to calm down, gazing up at him to distract yourself. Their voice had the same familiarly teasing tone it always did, but you could tell from the soft quiver to his lower lip that he was holding back his own tears.

“Yeah, it’s—” He let out a sound somewhere between a laugh and a sob, then hurriedly pushed his dark hair out of his reddening eyes. You wanted to tease him back about it, but you knew if you tried to speak again the tears would come flooding even worse. Another few moments passed as you both tried to collect yourselves.

Surprisingly, it took him a little longer. The tears on your cheeks had long fell and dried while he stood in front of you, eyes shrouded behind their bangs.

But after one more unsteady breath, he seemed to find his way again and look at you. “Are you ready?” they asked, a shakiness to their hands as he reached for the dangling chain around your neck—the necklace he’d given to you months ago once he’d found the courage to say yes to your proposal.

With your anxious nod of approval, he continued. Cool fingertips brushed at your collarbone, finding the silver clasp at the back of your neck and releasing it with a faint clicking of metal. The necklace fell loosely in his hands as he pulled it away. The golden ring easily slid from the chain and he rolled it in his fingers for a long moment, staring at it silently.

They were noticeably calmer this time, with a trembling smile that reached their eyes as he took your left hand and repeated himself. 

“Ready?”

[thewritetofreespeech]

Could I request Dali and Henrique with a partner who teaches their kids her native tongue?

Dali had to admit, though he wanted to go this parenting thing alone at first, it was much easier putting the children to bed with two people.

While he busied himself with picking up the nursery, getting it ready to be destroyed the next day like Sisyphus & his boulder, while [Y/N] sent them off to dream land. Once he finished cleaning up, Dali went to their bedroom to tuck them in as well. A soft, sweet song coming from the open door as he got closer.

Stella stellina La notte s’avvicina La fiamma traballa La mucca è nella stalla

La mucca e il vitello La pecora e l’agnello La chioccia e il pulcino Ognuno ha il suo bambino Ognuno ha la sua mamma E tutti fan la nanna

He couldn’t understand the words, but recognized it was a lullaby and one his sons seemed to know well. Ul already drifting to sleep in his crib and Raphael quietly singing along before his eye couldn’t stay open anymore. “To drift off to sleep to the sound of angels. My boys sure are lucky.”

[Y/N] turned to look over their shoulder and gave Dali a smile. “They won’t be asleep much longer if you don’t keep it down.”

Dali smile back, but still came into the room to give Ul & Raphael a soft kiss goodnight. Hearing Raphael give a sleepy “Buona notte” before leaving with [Y/N] in toe. “What does the song mean?”

“The song? Oh, it’s just a silly little song about the stars being out and it’s time to go to bed. My mother used to sing it to me when I was little.”

His smile deepened. As a noble, Dali had no such memories as a child. Nannies, or Clara, being the only ones to sing him to sleep, if it ever happened. Their country must be very different when it came to family, along with their language. “You will have to teach it to me sometime.”

[Y/N] smiled. “Well, there’s no time like the present!”

It was late in the evening when Henrique came home from work that evening. With a vacation planned to visit [Y/N]’s home in France, there were a lot of things he had to do before they'd finally let Henrique be happy. He sighed as he came in the door. The things he did for love.

Vaulting up the stairs to see his girls, Henrique found them in one of the playrooms. Patiently sitting there with [Y/N] at the table.

“Bonjour papa!”

“Bonjour papa!” Lucia and Elena greeted him in tandem. “Comment s'est passé le travail ce soir?”

“Wow!” Henrique praised. “You girls sound like real Parisian children.”

[Y/N] chuckled. “Well, I can’t have them visiting my homeland, nor any of the couturier we plan to visit, speaking like uncultured urchins.”

“Do you want to try papa?” Elena asked.

“Yes! I’m sure papa would be très bien!”

Henrique chuckled as he sat down at the table too. “Sorry girls. The only French your papa knows is ‘champagne’ and ‘croissant’.”

The girls giggled. “Well, I guess that’s all you need to get by.” [Y/N] told him.

“Hasn’t failed me yet!”

When the girls darted off to go play, once they were bored with their lesson, Henrique came around the table to stand next to [Y/N]. “You know, there is one more bit of French I do know.”

Curious, [Y/N] asked him, “Oh? What’s that?” With a grin Henrique leaned in to whisper in their ear. Their face went immediately red and they swatted him in the arm. “Henrique!” They exclaimed. “Where did you hear that from?!”

“From you.” Henrique laughed. Realizing that they hadn’t known that they slipped into their mother tongue when they were in bed together.

Henrique thought it was very cute. And though not a lesson for children, he’d have to see if it got ‘worse’ when they were in Paris.

[divaofmads]

Queen of Heart | Joel Miller

Inspired by a song ~

!!WARNING!!: Smut, +18 only, Fluff, Sex with a Strange Man, Bad Language, Slang using, Depressed, No Y/N (also used "she"), cigarette using, Age Gap ( you are in your early 20s and Joel is in his late 30s), Soft Joel, Before Apocalypse

Please leave comment

A/N: I apologize for the mistakes I made in English that is not my native language and I am trying to improve my writing skills.

It was a Thursday evening, heralding the arrival of winter. It was raining as if it enjoyed making people experience its cold and gloomy spirit. Puddles had turned into lakes, people had opened their umbrellas to avoid getting wet, and those who were unaware of the weather warnings had taken shelter in their coats and bags for protection. Everyone was in a rush. Their steps were fast, their movements were hurried. But fate had no mercy on their pitiful state. As if it enjoyed people's helplessness, it made everything worse. Traffic jams, accidents, people cursing because they couldn't get to where they needed to be... All of these were like a hag blocking the magnificence of the night.

Joel was the only one who submitted to fate that night. He had stuffed his hands into the pockets of his coat to protect himself from the biting cold, and had pulled the collar up and zipped it up to the tip of his nose so that the steam trapped behind the fabric could warm his lips and cheeks, which had become numb by the cold.

He had chosen another way to get home. Since his daughter Sarah was staying over at his uncle’s house, he could forget about responsibilities. He wanted to walk for a long time, all by himself. When he entered a street with broken lights, instead of the angry sounds of the city, the sound of rain hitting the concrete echoed in his ears. He was walking between apartment walls which plaster was cracked and bricks were visible. Dogs and rats hid in spray-painted garbage containers or in cardboard boxes thrown next to the containers. As the wind blew hard, the expired concert posters hanging on the wall could no longer hold on and were flying in the air. Joel’s boots were completely soaked. If he walked any further down the alley, his shoes would slowly start to absorb water.

But Joel’s past kept coming back to him. Every memory was harassing him, coming back to him and making him feel hopeless. The best thing that had ever happened to him in his life was his daughter. She was his luck. When the woman he loved left them, he hoped for a connection with his daughter. But now the feelings he had escaped from years ago were grabbing Joel’s arm and dragging him into the darkness. Still, the city sounds he had complained about a moment ago had given him a chance to distract himself. He had finally left the street and was walking along the sidewalk. Thinking it was time to go home, he looked at his wristwatch, but it wasn’t working. He waited for the green light at the corner of the sidewalk to cross the street. At that moment, he felt movement next to him. Taking advantage of the rain stopping, the old man was smoking a cigarette. He lifted his head slightly, freed his mouth from his coat, and called out to the man.

"Excuse me."

The man looked at him smugly.

"Can you tell me the time? Mine isn't working."

Without taking his eyes off Joel, the man took draws at cigarette , then tugged at the cuff of his jacket and glanced at the clock.

"11.00"

Joel thanked the sullen oldster anyway and wished him good night as he crossed the street after the light turned green.

He was walking on the bridge. Now there was no sound of an engine or a horn coming from a single place. Suddenly he felt like the city was going to swallow him and lifted his bowed head up, taking a deep breath. He saw a woman standing behind the banisters, watching the city view. His slow steps slowed down even more after seeing the woman and finally stopped. Unlike people, she had not escaped from the rain. Her hair that reached down to her shoulders was soaked, the strands of his hair stuck together. She had obviously experienced bigger things that was afraid of neither getting cold nor getting wet. She was wearing a denim jacket that would wear on a spring day, a pair of thin cotton sweatpants underneath, and a scarf wrapped awkwardly around his neck. The girl's body was shaking from the cold, but she didn't seem to feel it. As Joel moved closer to her, he realized she was crying. He wondered what she was thinking as he held on to the banister. Whatever her problem was, Joel wasn't going to leave her there alone. When he gently grabbed the woman's shoulder, she flinched in fear and looked at Joel.

"Madam, you shouldn't be here at this time of day in this weather. You'll catch a cold."

When the woman looked at him, he realized that she was tired of crying for a long time who stared at him blankly, not seeming to be afraid of the large man who had approached her.

"I'm sure, not where I'm supposed to be." she said and continued to look at the view. The girl's mysterious answer caught Joel's attention. Her hysterical look stood out to him. He felt that if they could combine these two unlucky worlds and be happy, they would understand each other.

He subconsciously wanted to show the girl that they were made for each other and imitated her and started looking at the view.

"You know, you're not the only one crushed under the chaotic progress of the city tonight." He said as she continued to look at the view, as if she didn't care what he said. "The only reason I live in this life is my daughter."

But she was not what she seemed, replied in a tone so weak that it was almost inaudible.

"Look, you see? One of us is much luckier." said her voice ready to cry.

Joel felt the girl's answer deep in his heart.

He turned her face and looked at her carefully. "Do you think you don't have this chance?" he thought as asked the question, that such a pure beauty shouldn't be this upset. This was unfair. Her cheeks shouldn't be stained with mascara that flowed with tears, her lips that were chapped from the tension of crying should be kissed by a man who loved her and made her smile.

As soon as the girl heard Joel's question, she turned towards him with her body. Although she pressed her lips together to keep from crying, her trembling chin gave herself away. She looked into Joel's eyes with pain until she swallowed her sobs. Even a little afraid. Her fear was trapped in the cruel arms of loneliness.

"What do you know about me that you can say such a thing?"

Joel nodded and replied, "You're right. I don't know you. But I'm looking into the eyes of a little girl who is tired of embracing her loneliness."

The girl let out a deep breath as she smiled faintly, as if relieved, and turned her head back to the view, breaking eye contact.

Joel patted the girl’s arm through the wet denim jacket. “It’s no coincidence that we met here tonight. Don't you really realize this?”

She frowned, her face contorted as if she were in pain, and she began to cry with all her might. Her sobs made it difficult for her to breathe and to utter the words she was trying to say.

"I'm so tired. There's no hope for me anymore."

If they had met at another time and under different circumstances, Joel was sure that he would have done everything in his power to prevent the young woman from becoming like this. The woman who had a beauty that would have been mentioned among the goddesses in ancient times was now nothing more than a slave trying to please despair and sadness. Only Joel's love could raise the girl's soul to enlightenment. He approached her softly and wrapped his arms around her body, holding her between his own.

"Shhh... I promise you," he said, his fingers caressing her hair tenderly. He pressed her head to his left breast. "Everything you've been through will be left behind."

The girl had lost so much faith that her long loneliness would ever end that when Joel embraced her with fatherly affection, her hysterical weeping flared up and she clung to him as sacredly as a little girl clings to her father. They stayed like that for a while, but she was shivering under his arms from the cold. Joel gently grabbed her arms around her waist and pulled them away from him.

Without thinking, Joel unzipped his coat, took it off, and draped it over the shoulders of the woman whose lips were purple from the cold. Her skinny body was lost in his coat. Joel stood next to her and lifted one arm up and wrapped it around her shoulder so that her body was now warmly pressed between his arm and chest and they started walking.

"Is your house near here?" he asked at first, but there was no answer from her. "I can't leave you alone in the middle of the night. If you tell me where you live, I'll take you there and you'll be safe."

She continued to cry. As they walked down the stairs, Joel tried to calm her down and told her not to cry, but she continued to cry as if she didn't hear him. As they walked down the steps, the girl sometimes talked to herself. Since Joel couldn't hear what she was saying, she couldn't get an answer when he asked what was wrong, but he didn't forget to hug her despite everything.

"You're not answering my questions. We can't stay out much longer, do you hear me? Or you'll get sick." Again there was no response from the girl. "Then I'll take you my home. At least you'll be warm and safe until morning."

"My God, what have you been through until get to this point?"

Joel's house was far away, and when they were halfway there, the woman's steps slowed down considerably. She had no strength left to walk, had already been tired both mentally and physically all day. She could not stand it any longer and told Joel in a pleading tone that she could not go any further. "Can't we stop for a while? Sit on a bench."

Joel looked around but saw that there were no benches. There was nowhere for them to sit and the girl was exhausted. He thought. It was late enough that taxis weren't going to pass very often on the road they were walking on. Joel looked for another solution. Maybe he could wait for the taxi to come, but he was suspicious of you.

"Hang on, honey. We've got ten minutes left," Joel said warmly. Then he placed one arm around her back and the other under legs, lifting her off the ground.

She put her hands around his neck. It was the closest them had been since they met. Their faces were inches apart, he could easily see your eyes, lips, nose, and eyebrows. He had never seen such beauty before. Neither sadness nor grief could hide the girl's beauty. He watched her face carefully to memorize every detail.

The girl's expression changed for a moment. She was crying silently. As if she was afraid he would notice. Joel wondered what was going on in her mind. She must have been in a lot of pain. He increased the strength in his arms and applied pressure to her back, then he brought her face closer to his and kissed her forehead in a sweet, innocent way.

"Okay, little lady, cry if it makes you feel better. I'm here for you, you're not alone, don't worry.

Joel felt tired after a few minutes. The night was cold, but his tiredness left him drenched in sweat. It became difficult to regulate his breathing rhythms. He thought he could have carried it more easily if it had been ten years ago, but he tried not to reflect his tiredness on the girl. He didn't want her to think she had left him in a difficult situation.

When they got home, Joel called out to her. "We're finally here. You can get off my lap." She nodded and got off his lap, looking around. It seemed like a quiet, friendly neighborhood. Considering the apartment building where she lived had a lot of drunken singing, prostitutes laughing, and a daily burglary, this was the kind of neighborhood she'd dreamed of. For the first time since they'd met, they started a topic of conversation. "It must be nice to live in a detached house."

Joel was also surprised, but his surprise turned to happiness. He smiled as he unlocked the door and looked at the young woman. "And we have friendly neighbors. I'm sure you'd love it here."

The young woman merely smiled mousy. As he returned his smile, Joel walked in, and so did the girl. But she was a little shy. Joel took her coat off of himself, hung it on the dresser, and turned to her as he walked inside.

"Hey, you can imagine this your home. Don't ask for permission for anything." The girl nodded and started following Joel. They were taking a little tour in the house. It was like she was going to live in this house now.

The man had already accepted her. He turned to the girl and put his hand on her waist and pulled her to his side so that she would not stand far away. "This is the living room, there is the kitchen over there. After you shower, your food will be ready, we will eat it here, you must be hungry." She could tell by her look how hungry she was.

He smiled and looked at her clothes with displeasure. "We can pick out some clothes that are too big for Sarah. Your clothes will be dry until morning."

The young woman watched the man as he climbed the stairs. He selected a new bathrobe and towel from the linen closet. She continued to watch him as he walked down the hall to the bathroom. As he talked about what she was going to do, she realized that good men could exist beyond fairy tales, and she reveled in that.

"Why are you helping me, someone you don't even know?"

The question was one Joel hadn’t expected. His movements slowed thoughtfully as he dropped the towels onto the chair next to the tub. “I told you. Nothing that happened tonight was by chance.” He straightened up and moved closer to her. “This was meant to happen,” he paused, his eyes fixated on the wall. “Besides, I was serious about you not being alone tonight.”

She didn't know what else to say to him other than 'thank you' as he left her alone in the bathroom to shower.

Joel went down to the kitchen and got the ingredients out of the refrigerator to prepare food and then got to work. He laughed to himself as he remembered the memory that came to his mind while chopping tomatoes on the board. Tommy's girlfriend, whom he had broken up with a week ago, was a strange woman. She was very interested in fortune telling and everyone believed in these ridiculous, made-up prophecies. When Joel invited them to a barbecue party one night and Tommy said that he had definite ideas about fortune telling, the woman insisted on telling him fortune. No matter how angry Joel was, Sarah and he managed to convince him in the end.

Tommy's ex ran over and brought the cards who spread them out on the table. Thus began the cartomancy nonsense. Joel chose the queen of hearts. Warmth, compassion, healing, unconditional love. Sooner or later, her lover's brother would meet a woman with whom he would have a healthy and balanced relationship. They would find in each other everything they lacked, and they would love themselves more in this relationship. Was it really necessary to believe in cartomancy? Maybe that crazy woman was right. Come on!

The sandwiches were ready and took their places on the table. As he poured fresh orange juice into the glasses, he began to hum the lyrics of the Mr. Sandman song that came to mind as a memory.

"Please turn on your magic beam

Mr. Sandman, bring me a dream"

But as he was leaving the glasses on the table, his song was interrupted by the movement he felt in front of the kitchen door. Out of the corner of his eye he saw it was her. She was wearing nothing but a towel covering her privates. Joel's lips were slightly parted, his face somewhere between shock and seriousness. The words were stuck in his throat. "You..." was all he could say.

The young woman put on a facial expression that showed how much she needed him and simply said, "Come, please." holding out her hand.

She released the towel that barely covered her and fell to the floor. Her smooth skin was now bright and shiny in the kitchen light. The perfect measure of her waist, her full breasts with nipples hardened by the cold, my God, she was a true goddess. Still, he thought to himself, to respond to her request would be to take advantage of her confusion and go against his moral sense.

Joel said with a sense of shame hidden behind his serious appearance, "I don't think that's right." He approached the young woman. He picked up the white towel that had fallen on the floor and held it over her to take it. But the girl touched Joel's cheek with an attitude that knew what she wanted and looked him in the eyes with certainty. "I thought about what you said and I realized that we would be good for each other. I need to sleep in the arms of a man like you tonight, if you want it too."

Joel swallowed. He was excited like a boy who was a novice. This was different, very different. He stood there, not knowing what to do, when the young woman suddenly pressed herself to his lips. With one hand, she squeezed his cheeks, causing his lips to part, so she slid her tongue under his tongue. Warm and moist. Rubbing it under and over his tongue, she created a slight tickling sensation.

Shee bit his lower lip, ran her tongue and teeth along his jawbone, and then she started biting his neck. This had felt wrong and foreign to him at first, but he had adapted very quickly. He wrapped his arms around her, picked her up, and with one hand he motioned for her to wrap her leg around his waist. Her feet had left the ground, and they continued to kiss wildly as Joel led her into the living room. Her hair was wet, and water droplets were following a path from her forehead to the corners of her eyes and then to her lips. The wet kiss made them even more passionate. Joel gently laid the young girl on the couch, and with quick movements, without taking his eyes off the girl, he began to take off his clothes. His dark green shirt and the black T-shirt he wore underneath. His bronze skin highlighted his masculine body lines, allowing the light to shine like gold on his muscles in the dim environment. Joel saw the admiration in the girl's eyes and leaned towards her smiling lips with much more enthusiasm. The man's skin was warm, as the woman's cold fingers touched his skin, he felt the lust in their touch deeply, he felt his cells coming back to life. His hands explored the young woman's flexible body lines. He caressed her breasts, squeezed them, and sucked her hardening nipples, leaving bites. When his lips found her neck again, his fingers moved down from her breasts to her belly, leaving tickling touches, and reached her hips and began to caress her legs. The drops of water flowing from her damp hair were wetting the girl's skin, its brightness creating an erotic appearance. As they looked into eyes, they were both out of breath and knew that they had committed the most sacred sin ever. According to Joel, this sin was love, and it was worth burning in hell for it. "Oh my god, you're the sexiest woman I've ever seen in my life," he said as he unbuckled his belt. The sound of his metal belt buckle was hitting the living room walls. The sound of his leather sliding against the denim fabric was quite inviting when he pulled the belt quickly. When he took off his pants, the strain visible in his boxers almost ripped the fabric. After peeling off the black fabric and getting rid of that, he held her ankles and spread her legs apart and entered between them, his rock-hard dick hitting her upper thighs and rubbing against her groin, finding her vulva. He was now applying pressure to her swollen outer lips. The love they felt for each other had spread from their souls to their bodies, causing spasms in their groins. The cold feeling left by the water combined with Joel’s warm tongue strokes created an indescribable sensitivity in her neck, breasts, and belly. You were touching each other in places no one had ever touched before. Now they had to go much further than making love. When her hand reached out and grasped Joel’s erect penis, they smiled at each other’s lips.

"You are so eager, lady, so ready to touch me." Biting her lower lip,

"So aren't you?" the girl asked.

"I'm always ready for you," he said, pressing the girl's flexible body even more onto the cushion and they continued kissing while the girl rubbed his dick.

He was moaning so seductively that as his hot breath touched her ear and the back of it, a shiver ran down her spine and covered her body, accompanying her moans as she closed her eyes and felt his voice more. She didn't even need to touch him now, for her to squirt.

Joel placed his calloused fingers on the woman's tiny waist and, with a force so hard that it hurt slightly, forced the girl to lie face down. She could feel the slight sting of thorns on her skin as her breasts were pressed against the furry fabric. She must have been allergic.

He pulled her wet hair from her back and found its place on the left side of her neck, biting her bare side and started rubbing his penis hard in her vagina. In this way, the extreme pleasure and pain she felt would balance each other.

Joel growled. "Oh, it feels so warm and wet!"

When his cock, which was getting harder as it rubbed against her vulva, restricted her movements, the young woman lifted her hips up with the help of her arms and, standing in doggy position, started to caress his cock and balls between the parts of her hips. Joel was shaking on his knees, leg muscles clenched, breathing shallow.

He didn't want to end things like this. He wanted to feel the girl from the inside. He held her ass tightly and stopped her. He took his veiny cock in his hand and placed it at the entrance to her vagina.

Before he entered her, Joel asked passionately, "You wanted my cock so bad, uh, honey?"

As soon as she answered, "Yes," Joel reached for her hair and grabbed her roughly, pulling her back. "No short answers! Tell me what you want me to do!"

"I want your thick cock , please!" she breathed.

"Atta girl!" He whispered with warm breath on her ears.

He pushed the head of his penis into her vagina and inserted it. Her vagina slowly expanded and her walls wrapped around his cock that was too thick for. She moaned in slight pain, but it was also very pleasurable. Joel finally pushed it all inside. Her vagina was stretched wider than ever. He started pumping with long, slow strokes. She hadn't had much experience with sex before, but it was obvious that he was the best.

"You tell me when to speed up, honey." He whispered. She began to respond to his movements in a synchronized manner.

His hands gripped her elbows tightly, pulling her body a little closer.

She moaned, "Now, fuck me faster now!"

He moved faster, thrusting his at least seven inch cock in and out rapidly. Wet sounds were made as her vagina met his cock. Joel bend over and pulled her closer, his hands still gripping her elbows. He placed his hand under her chin, forcing her eyes to look up at the ceiling, so that he could place her head in the crook of his neck. His thumb was gently caressing her cheek. He placed his lips somewhere between her jawbone and ear. A shiver ran down spine and into her groin.

Deep and guttural moans released from his mouth, "Why does your pussy feel so good!"

The girl used her vagina to squeeze Joel, driving him crazy. They were shaking every time that big hard tool entered her.

He growled with powerful deep thrusts "Do you like the feeling of a man's penis that you don't know, uh?"

The girl's voice sounded like she couldn't stand the pleasure any longer. "Yeah, I love the way you fuck me!"

While he was pumping his penis inside her over and over again, with the last pump he would take the young woman to the edge. She would reach the peak of pleasure. He could feel her pulse on the surface of his finger as he squeezed her neck under his hand while he was cumming inside her. As his seeds washed her cunt, the girl also had an orgasm and both of their pleasure juices flowed out of her vagina at the same time. The space between her legs was sticky and shiny. Drops of water were running down the insides of her upper thighs. As their breaths mingled, the young woman freed herself from Joel's grasp and threw herself onto the couch, lying on her back. Her chest was rising and falling. There was still an inviting look in the girl's eyes. Joel took advantage of this and collapsed on top of her, started to kiss her lips. His tongue was kissing her as if he was fucking her mouth now. As their passionate kiss slowly heated up, Joel's hands couldn't stop themselves from caressing her legs. But he didn't want to tire her out any further. They still hadn't eaten. He didn't want to drain her of all her energy, so he pulled his lips away from hers and leaned his face against her chest.The young woman put her fingers into his grey hair strands and started to mix it up slowly.

After they had rested, the girl asked, "Are you sure your daughter won't suddenly appear and catch us?"

Joel lifted himself up on his arms and looked down at the young woman. "She's staying with her uncle tonight. It's not possible. Are you hungry?"

She nodded, "I'm starving."

Joel stood up, picked up her , put her arms around him, looked at him with happy eyes, and he walked out of the living room and up the stairs. He took her to the bedroom. After cleaning the sperm and pre-cum leaking from her vagina, he left her alone in the room. He brought clothes from the bathroom and handed them to the girl. "After you get dressed, you can go down to the kitchen."

They were both silent as they ate. If she asked him a question about his life, she had to tell him either, and the same was true for Joel.

However, it was Joel who broke the silence."Why were you on the bridge? It didn't look like you were trying to commit suicide."

The girl was chewing the bite from the sandwich. That's why she couldn't pronounce the words properly. But Joel could see the sadness returning to her face.

""I just wanted to forget myself in the chaos of the city." Then she grinned insincerely, as if she had to smile. "Otherwise I'm too cowardly to commit suicide." Her voice trembled as she emphasized the last words, and averted her eyes.

Joel stroked her hair. "Shh... I'm with you now. I won't give you any reason to cry."

He put his arms on the table and leaned towards her slightly. "Really, we haven't officially met yet. I asked you your name when we were walking on the street, but you brushed it off."

The woman couldn't make an excuse, but she was nervous as she answered Joel's question, unlike him. He repeated her name over and over as they spoke. As if each time he said her name was a great reward. Joel liked the woman. The way she was young and beautiful, the way they had met, the way she enjoyed his conversation except when he was sad.

Joel called out to her, trying to start a new topic of conversation, but she was the first to respond. “Joel, I actually want to go to sleep. We’ve been through enough.”

Joel nodded in displeasure. But he was also trying to understand the girl's situation. He was being understanding. "Okay, you can go sleep wherever you want."

As she stood up, she patted Joel's arm and gave him a rather long kiss on the cheek. "Thank you for everything, Joel. I'll always remember that kindness."

After the girl left, Joel sat in the kitchen chair for a while longer, wondering if Sarah would like the young lady. Would their relationship crown itself with love, as the crazy Ex said?

Joel chuckled to himself. He was being ridiculous, really. A forgotten emotion had awakened and blossomed in his heart, exciting him and making him feel like a high school teenager. He put his teenage thoughts out of his mind and collected the dishes from the table and put them in the dishwasher. He still had a goofy smile on his face. It was a very difficult day for him too. All the negativity had piled up and he felt like life was suffocating him. However, this beautiful girl had entered his life like an angel and brought the light of heaven to his soul.

When Joel climbed the stairs and entered his room, he saw that the girl was already asleep in her bed. He lay down next to her without letting her wake up. When the girl mumbled something in her sleep, Joel thought she was talking, so he answered. But she was just mumbling. Names of people he didn't know, names he'd never heard in their conversations. His dream was to watch her until the morning, but the tiredness of the day took him captive too.

He was dreaming. It was the most peaceful dream he had had in a while. He felt proud, and he claimed to know. The Queen of Hearts had not failed him. She was right there beside him, bringing light into his life. What else could rich bourgeois girl mean? He was lucky now.

But this dream was cut short by the morning sun. The sky had just brightened. The biting cold of winter was chilling. That's why when he woke up, he had his arms clasped together. He had rubbed his eyes and looked to his left to realize his dream of wishing good morning to the woman he loved, whom he had missed for a long time. But she was not there. His eyebrows furrowed in curiosity. The side where the girl had slept last night was the window side and he saw something on the window pane that had been fogged up from the cold. He stood up, approached the window with heavy steps and stared at the writing written in the fog there.

"Goodbye."

[haru-dipthong]

Fansub release for Utena ep 19 + Japanese culture lesson

Utena: やっぱり若葉って普通の女の子なんだね。きっといいお嫁さんになるよ。

WHAT a loaded line. Let’s look at my translation of the first part:

Utena: You’re such a normal girl, Wakaba.

I think this line shows that at this point in the story, Utena has come to terms with the fact that they’re not a “normal” girl, but despite this self-recognition, they still see normalcy as something inherently good that one should strive for. They’re still in the clutches of an idealised status quo. Now let’s look at the next part. A literal translation would be:

Utena: I'm sure you'll make a good bride. (from ohtori.nu)

But like… who says it like this in English anymore? While this phrasing sounds natural in Japanese, it sounds extremely old fashioned and weird in English. How would a native English speaker voice the same thought? I think it would be something like this:

Utena: You’ll probably make some guy very happy. (my translation)

This means the same thing, but sounds much more natural. This is another example of how to be a good translator, you need to be a good writer. You can’t just transpose words of the same meaning, you have to understand the thought behind the words, and then write a new sentence with the same thought behind it, but in the target language.

Wakaba: そうよ。ようやく気づいたの。やっぱり私はあの王子様が好きなんだって…　そして、神様のおかげで王子様もやっと私の事振り向いてくれるようになったのかなって。

Wakaba: You’re right. I finally realised. I do love that prince of mine. And maybe, somehow… Something will finally happen between us.

There are a few things I want to talk about in this passage. First of all, 神様のおかげで. This is a phrase that literally means “because of the kami-sama (/positive)”. It’s often translated as “thanks to God” or “by the grace of God” or “thanks to divine intervention”, but to translate it this way is to erase the nuances of Japanese religious custom and worse, Christianise a non-Christian character.

In Japanese culture, Shinto and Buddhism are seen by the vast majority of people not as religions, but as customs. According to several surveys, approximately 70% of Japanese people specify they have no personal faith, despite statistical research showing that about 70% of Japanese people practice Shinto rites and practices, and another 70% of Japanese people practice Buddhist practices. This is because Japanese people follow these practices as a matter of culture and custom, not of faith. Participation rates in 初詣 (hatsumode), the first shrine visit of the year, are extremely high despite many participants not truly believing in the spiritual aspect. In Japan, Shinto and Buddhism are more about tradition and participation than faith and affiliation. And this is just based on anecdotal evidence from my own life, but I think a lot of Japanese people wouldn’t be able to explain the difference between Shinto and Buddhist belief systems. They all get blended together as part of the culture. Shinto and Buddhism ARE Japanese culture. The teachings of those religions inform the Japanese way of looking at and interacting with the world, despite the spiritual elements not being directly believed by many Japanese people.

On top of that cultural background, the concept of “kami-sama” (or just “kami”) are not God, or even gods. Generally, Shinto kami are more spirit than god, with kami said to inhabit everything from ancient trees to ramen bowls. In a way, they’re like the essence of the world. One could even say they are “the universe”, in the same way that secular English speakers might say “the universe is trying to tell me something”.

I don’t believe this line is showing that Wakaba is a believer in Shinto. It’s just showing that she believes that the universe is rotating in a favourable way for her. The “kami-sama” that she mentions are not literal kami or gods, but simply an indication that, through no direct action of her own, something good is happening to her (I have confirmed this interpretation with my dad, who is Japanese and was raised in Japan).

Wew… okay. Onto the second thing I wanted to talk about in this passage LOL

王子様もやっと私の事振り向いてくれるようになった

The final translation for this line was:

Something will finally happen between us.

But a more literal translation would be:

He’s finally looking my way.

In fact, I actually liked this more. I thought the imagery from the original Japanese was nice, and it translated directly quite well. The only problem was that pesky pronoun…

As Anya rightfully pointed out, you could read this as a setup for Utena being Wakaba’s prince. Certainly it’s all there in the text — Wakaba did repeatedly insist that “it’s not like that” between her and Tatsuya, she often treats Utena like a boyfriend, and it would even explain her getting flustered after Utena pressures her to reveal who her “prince” is at the lunch table. And let’s not forget Tatsuya’s line “I noticed that she looks the happiest when she's with you, Utena.”

Some of this exchange had to be rewritten to completely avoid using any singular pronouns, lest we spoil the reveal at the end. For example, this line had to be changed from a focus on the prince to an indirect line about the both of them. I think the line still captures the general sentiment, but it’s a shame it had to change so much from the original phrasing!

Thanks to @dontbe-lasanya for the amazing editing, especially for picking up the pronoun issue when talking about the prince!

Follow my blog if you'd like to stay up to date with new episode releases! You can see all episodes released so far here:

Rose divider taken from this post

[pochipop]

＃HOMICIPHER !! ♡ — IN THIS SUNLESS MAZE, I'VE GIVEN MY TRUST TO YOU (MR CRAWLING X READER).

#. synopsis! — you hit him with a crowbar in a moment of fear, but he cares and cares and cares .

#. characters! — mr crawling .

#. warnings! — canon-typical mentions of violence, spoilers for the homicipher game prologue/chapter one . (if you haven't played at least the prologue, i fear this will make absolutely negative sense.)

#. word count! — 1.9k .

#. others! — navigation & masterlist .

#. alt accounts! — @ddollipop (nsfw), @hhoneypop (moodboards) .

#. a/n! — come join my discord server? // i know this is not the content anyone is asking for from me but unfortunately i am in my dark and scary lover era and university is eating me alive, so pls go easy on me i am sensitive!!!

The halls of this strange place are dark and dreary. The air is perpetually moist and it smells musty no matter where you go. Around every corner there’s something that makes your nose turn up in disgust, be it the cobwebs littering the ceilings from above, and subsequently the spiders resting all about them, or any of the other unsavory attributes this hell-hole has managed to acquire after being seemingly left to rot away for so long.

But you know you’re not alone here. Though you’re certain the residents you’ve come across aren’t truly human at all, —you know you’re not the only sentient creature here. For the sake of simplicity (and easing your weary mind of one thing, at the very least) you’ve taken to referring to them all as what they appear to resemble most: men. One walks the halls dressed in nothing but scarlet, carrying an umbrella to match his attire. You only caught a glimpse of him as he passed by, but a strange feeling overcame you when he sauntered through the dingy walkway, head facing straight forward like he was hyper-focused on something unseen just up ahead.

Though he was likely the most outwardly human-seeming of them all, you kept the farthest distance from him. If there was anything you had to rely on down here, it was your intuition, —and going near him was the exact opposite of smart decision making, according to your gut.

Another wore a grimy hood that smelled faintly of mildew and covered the entirety of his head, so much so that his face was completely shrouded by the shadow it cast down on him. . . If he even had a face at all, that is. It was an unsettling thought, but he was helpful in spite of your hesitancy, and he seemed to be guiding you in one direction or another. His voice was gravelly, sounding like he hadn’t used it in a long time. He made no move to accompany you past the small room you’d awoken in, but after encountering a plethora of oddities soon after leaving, you began to understand why.

Some were worse than others, like the man dressed in piercing red who made the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end. Others spoke to you in spite of your inability to answer them in whatever native tongue they were using, appearing kind enough on the surface. You even half-heartedly followed the directions of a dismembered wrist and took the severed head of an auburn-haired male down a flight of janky stairs, almost tripping down the second flight when the lights flickered on and off overhead. It was a wonder the bulbs were still working, or that electricity still flowed through any of the wires of this place. Presumptuous as you may have been for it, none of those you encountered seemed like the type to work on circuitry. . .

Surprisingly expressive for being little more than a lowly head, you traded him off to a man with ghostly pale skin, silver-white hair, and bandages over his eyes that moved around just fine in spite of them. You sat with the two of them for a bit, receiving a lackluster language lesson that you didn’t retain much from, but thanked them for anyway on the off chance they might understand you somehow.

And then you high-tailed it out of the lowest level you’d been on thus far, narrowly avoiding an injection to the arm that you may or may not have accidentally agreed to. When you stopped to catch your breath, you found yourself concerned for the safety of a chopped head, —something you never thought you’d be worried about in your lifetime. Still though, the two of them had seemed cordial enough. . . Friendly, even, but a part of you feared you were anthropomorphizing entities much unlike yourself a bit too much.

Worse off, you barely circumvented the swipe of a strange hand with fingernails dirty enough to have colored themselves black that reached for your chest, —or, for the organ inside of it, rather. All that because you offered a weak smile to a creepy half-face peeking through the gap of a doorway.

Needless to say, you were done being naive by the time an oddly moving silhouette rounded the corner of the room you were hiding away in. After heaven knows how long of slipping between rooms and making generally poor choices, you’d come to the conclusion that enough was enough. The next thing that tried to test you, be it human, monster, or something else entirely, you were going to make them regret it. So you armed yourself with a rusty crowbar left behind in the rubble of the building and you tucked yourself away into a little cavern just barely wide enough for you to squeeze inside of. From the quick look you stole of it before slinking away inside, you could only assume it was the result of a half-finished wall demolition.

Steps came nearer, as if smelling you out like a bloodhound. Instinctively, you held your breath, hands shaking wildly, even as the hunched body rounded the corner and seemed to look at you through a mess of long, greasy, black hair. He only stumbled back slightly as you clipped his forehead with the crowbar. All things considered, it wasn’t much of a strike. It drew some blood, but had he been anything like you feared, he’d have clawed you to pieces there and then.

But he slumped back a little awkwardly, almost seeming dejected by your violence. When his forearm raised to his injured head, he mumbled something you couldn’t understand in a quiet, somber tone. A small amount of blood trickled down his forehead and he shuffled away just out of sight to sulk in the same corner you’d snagged the crowbar from. Now you just felt bad. So much had happened within your short time here, and you’d gone and taken it out on the only creature who didn’t seem to have any ill intentions toward you. And perhaps worst of all, you didn’t even have the vocabulary to properly apologize.

“Um. . .” you utter nervously, crouching down to his height, “I’m sorry. I thought. . .”

And then you trail off, realizing that it doesn’t really matter what you say anyway. It’s not like he understands you, and it’s not as if you’re in any position to be asking for forgiveness from someone you just bludgeoned with a rusty crowbar.

The way he turns at the sound of your voice nearly causes you to jump out of your skin. It’s not that he’s ugly, —his appearance is just. . . Alarming. Pair it with the location you’ve found yourself at, the inability to navigate this god forsaken building to any degree of efficiency, and recent previous encounters with those much like him, and you have yourself a recipe for disaster.

He’s responsive to the softness of your tone in a way you hadn’t expected, shuffling around until he’s facing your direction. His features are hidden behind the mess of his hair, and he moves toward you again, almost like he’s trying to figure out if he can trust you or not.

When you shift a bit, he shrinks back, but you utter another apology and do your best to remain still thereafter so as not to frighten him away. He wipes some blood from his forehead and slathers it onto the dirty floor, then comes close enough to touch you, leaving some smears of crimson in his wake. His placement is firm against your thigh, but it doesn’t feel salacious in the slightest. His hands are cold, but there’s a warmth he exudes that you can’t quite explain nor put your finger on.

Maybe it isn’t the smartest move you’ve ever made, —but you’re going with your gut again, and it’s telling you that this time it’s okay to test the waters.

There’s no malice in the way he kneels before you, head tilting up so he can see your eyes through his stringy hair. He smells faintly of metal from the blood on his forehead and hand, but it’s nothing that won’t go away after he cleans himself up. That lingering scent of mildew that the hooded man also had might stick around, though. . .

In a place like this, you’re sure it can’t really be helped.

“I’m sorry,” you say again, even if he can’t make sense of it. “You scared me, is all. I shouldn’t have hit you.”

There’s nothing in particular he does to indicate that he understands what you’re blabbering about, but he moves a bit closer again, invading your space to touch your shoulders. Thankfully, that wound you gave him seems to be superficial at most.

He says something, but you can’t make sense of it, so you stare at him blankly. He repeats it, a bit louder this time, and you shake your head.

“I don’t understand,” you reply.

He likely doesn’t either, and you’re playing a game of cat and mouse, but he doesn’t seem to mind much. His lingering touch is more curious than anything else, traveling from your shoulders down the length of your arms, then fiddling with each of your fingers on either hand.

You find yourself wondering what he is, —how he got here, what he’s thinking, what any of his unfamiliar words might mean. All things considered, he’s being exponentially gentle with you. Somehow, you come a little undone as a result. All the adrenaline has faded and you find yourself tearing up, the realization of your situation sinking you under all at once in a way it somehow hadn’t before. When you were moving through the halls and the stairways, there’d always been something to focus on, but now that you’ve come to this standstill with him, it’s impossible to keep yourself from unraveling a bit.

A soft sniffle makes his head snap upward, and he cups your cheeks in either of his cool hands. His nails are long and they sit against your skin so gently, though you know he could use them to rip at your flesh at any moment if he really wanted to. But he doesn’t.

His head tilts to the side like a small, confused animal, and he mumbles something that you obviously can’t comprehend.

He’s a bit rough as he wipes the tears from your eyes, but you’re almost certain it’s unintentional. Though he’s strange and you don’t understand a lick of what he says to you, —you find yourself feeling grateful for his presence. It’s the first time since you found yourself stranded here that you don’t feel so alone.

One of his hands moves away from your face, instead planting itself on the crown of your head. He stills for a moment, then drags his hand along your hair, as if petting a kitten or a puppy dog. You don’t complain, instead offering him a sad smile, which he returns (although his is much more unsettling.)

“Thank you,” you say, even though he can’t decipher it.

After a moment longer, he shuffles back toward the room’s opening and gestures toward the hall. You can only assume he’s trying to lead you somewhere, and you make the decision to trust him for the time being. Though he’s odd-looking and moves only by crawling on all fours, there’s something comforting about the idea of being less lost at sea with no one to help guide you through the maze that surrounds you.

Thus, you pull yourself to your feet and move toward the doorway, readying yourself for whatever comes next.

[grimm909]

Deep In The Sea - End

I don't have much to say here. I just deeply appreciate all the comments and reblogs! Furthermore, I apologize for the excruciating delay in finishing this fic. I wasn't as excited to continue writing as before, so let's say that because of that the chapter isn't very long. I just wanted to put an end to this soon. 🥺

English is not my native language, so sorry for any errors you may find.

Part 1 and Part 2

WARNINGS: female gender reader, violence, yandere, obsession, non-consensual, mind break, horror, drama, mutilation, mention of pregnancy.

"I don't want to feel good!" You shouted in fury, writhing around to try to free yourself from his grip. However, your attempt proved fruitless. "I want to leave! Leave me alone! You monster!"

"Tsk, tsk." Jade clicked his tongue in disapproval. "You really hurt me with those words." He lamented in a tone of false sadness. However, the creature's heterochromatic eyes, which continued to look at you in an unpleasantly passionate way, were in fact the only true thing about Jade.

"I won't tell anyone about you. I swear!" You tried. Even in a useless and desperate plea, you still tried to fight, even though your only weapons were the insignificant words coming out of your lips.

"Of course you won't tell." He smiled with his teeth exposed. A wicked smile full of unspoken ulterior motives. "After all, you're not leaving here." An unpleasant shiver ran down your spine. “I can’t let you go, not now that we’re finally closer than ever, darling.”

“Y-you can’t! I can’t survive in a place like this!” You screamed, as a few more tears fell down your face.

“I know you won’t.” Jade agreed, knowing that you could easily die within a few days in that cave. “But I’ll find a way.” The merman caressed your cheek tenderly, stating so firmly that he would find a solution that made you tremble at the thought of spending the rest of your life in that unhealthy place. Worse still, with him.

“I don’t love you!” An angry scream came out of your throat. However, you didn’t know if you were trying to shake the merman’s feelings or just make him angry enough for him to kill you before he did anything else horrible to you.

"Maybe not now, certainly." Unfortunately, your statement didn't have any kind of desirable effect on the monster. He remained calm as always. As cold as a block of ice. "But you know, I really am a patient merman. So I don't mind waiting as long as it takes until you admit how much you want me." He was definitely crazy! So crazy that he smiled, certain that he would make you fall in love with him. Certain that he would make you become exclusively his.

The merman's mismatched eyes wandered over your naked torso, hovering over your attention-starved breasts, whose nipples were perky from exposure to the cold.

"Ah, what beautiful mounds you have." Jade admired them with visible delight. He held her left nipple with his thumb and index finger, gently pulling it up and then releasing it, showing interest when the flesh moved vaguely up and down due to the action.

You let out a moan at how sensitive your nipples were, regretting it immediately and clamping your lips together to keep from giving the monster any more of that taste of your suffering.

“Oya, what a beautiful sound you just made.” He smiled proudly as if he had done something incredible, assuming that your sweet moan had been of pleasure and not pain.

You prefer not to answer. At this point in the game, wasting your breath on the merman was a huge waste of time and you still had the chance to irritate him. The bloody marks on your arm were a horrible reminder not to exhaust that monster’s patience. At that moment, you were just waiting for the warm embrace of death, because you knew there would be no more chance of escaping or being saved.

Jade wasted no time in wanting to take advantage of every bit of your body, opening his mouth wide and grabbing almost your entire breast. You suck in a breath, taken by surprise by that action, but also afraid that he would bite you again. The merman doesn't do it, but his sharp teeth graze around your areola in a silent threat, while his tongue swirled around your nipple. Jade analyzed you with bicolored eyes, curious about what expression you were making and delighting in the way you tried your best to hold back your moans, with your eyes closed and lips tightly repressed, which periodically opened when you were caught off guard by those teeth biting shallowly into the skin of your breasts. Not enough to bleed, but strong enough to hurt.

It takes a few seconds for him to release your breast with a loud “pop”, only to move his mouth to the other solitary mound. Even though no more protests came out of your mouth, you squirm in disgust and look at the love mark he had left around your areola. You feel disgusted by the large amount of drool that decorated the rest of your breast, running down towards the gap between it and the other mound that Jade was delighting in.

At that point, your throat was already sore from screaming so much, but another cry of pain crossed your lips when your right nipple was attacked with excruciating pain. Sharp shark-like teeth gripped the unprotected spot tightly, only satisfied when the skin gave in to the external aggressor and the blood poured beautifully into the merman's mouth. Jade moaned in satisfaction, sucking on the wound as if she were a greedy baby sucking on her mother's breast milk.

A single tear fell from your eyes, although you couldn't tell if it was from fear or anger. Probably both, judging by your trembling body beneath the merman and how your teeth were grinding in contained hatred, wanting to bite him, hurt him and tear him apart, just as he had done and was doing to you at that moment.

"That hurts…" You let out a pitiful whimper, as more tears fell to adorn your beautiful face.

Even in your best effort to make that creature feel some pity for you, the merman didn't stop sucking on the freshly made wound. However, your words made him look at you again and his eyes met Jade's. You feel the hairs on the back of your neck stand up at the eye contact, holding your breath in your lungs and turning your head to the side, refusing to look at him any longer.

After a few seconds satisfying of your blood, he stops. The sound of clothes being torn echoes through the cave. You didn't need to be a genius to know that Jade was tearing apart the rest of your uniform, exposing your pelvic region and thighs. You scream and adrenaline immediately runs through your blood, encouraging you to fight to get out of there. However, your struggle is reduced to just screams and physical struggle, which are useless in the face of the monstrous force that continued to squeeze your legs.

Jade ignores your fear, but curls her lips when she realizes that there was another piece of clothing covering her lovely intimacy. He is quick to fix it, tearing the last piece of clothing that protected her from being violated by him.

You let out a squeak, embarrassed and afraid of being even more at the mercy of the merman's cruelties. This situation was beyond strange, it was almost ridiculously comical. You were about to be abused by a mythological creature? How cruel fate was.

“Fufufu, that sure is quite an image.” He admires your completely naked body, bringing his index and middle finger to your intimacy, touching your labia minora and then inserting half of his fingers inside you without any modesty. A painful moan escapes your mouth, unprepared to receive it. “Ah, it's so warm and soft.” Jade admires the heat emanating from your gummy walls, going a little deeper to see how far his fingers could go. “Certainly a good place for our cubs to be comfortable and safe.” This sentence makes you sick and terribly disgusted. How could he say something like that so naturally?

Jade takes his fingers out of you and brings them to his mouth, tasting your taste with a brief moan of delight.

“A unique taste, indeed,” he says with satisfaction, loosening his grip on your legs and picking you up in his arms as if you weighed no more than a rag doll. The new position established by the merman was to sit on the sandy floor and bring you to his lap, with your back to his chest, your legs spread over Jade’s tail and his arm around your waist, keeping you unable to escape.

You scream when you realize what was right in front of you, poking your belly and staining it with a liquid that looked transparent, yet pearly. A horrible glimpse of Jade’s tapered and monstrous cock, which was about to sweep you off your feet and make you his newest partner for life.

“Please, no…” You beg one last time, your breath caught in your lungs, unable to take your eyes off that hideous thing. “There’s no way it can fit.”

“Don’t worry.” Jade soothes, kissing the top of your head tenderly in a failed attempt to calm you down. “Soon you’ll be molded to my shape.” He smiles, lifting your body and using his right hand to guide the head of his inhuman cock to your unprepared intimacy, rubbing against the entrance and lubricating it with his pre-cum, before sliding into the hole sheltered by the small lips. “Now, let’s consummate our love, shall we?”

Placing his other hand on your waist, Jade grips your body and roughly pushes you down, filling you with his cock in a single thrust. A silent scream leaves your throat, which has long since weakened, barely having the strength to continue with your useless protests. Tears adorn your pale cheeks and you refuse to look down, afraid to see how stuffed your pussy must be with that monstrosity inside you.

"It's incredibly hot." The merman praised, a heavy sigh of satisfaction leaving his dark lips. "It's so different from the other females I'm used to." He admitted without qualms, kissing the top of your ear. "You take me so well…" Jade slid one of his webbed hands from your waist to your thighs, distancing it so that the view of your pussy was not completely covered. "Look, you're swallowing almost everything."

Were you a virgin? Oh, well, not that it mattered in the end, since the blood dripping around his cock could be as much because of that as the fact that Jade had broken something inside you. After all, how else did you look so full of his cock? The merman's bulge jutted obscenely into your belly, making you certain that you would probably never return to normal.

“You. Damn. Monster…” In a last spark of resistance, you hiss each word filled with pure hatred and venom.

Jade doesn't say anything and you can't even see his expression to know if your words really affected him in any way. However, he shows that they did when he lifts your body again and then throws it back against his cock in a bestial thrust, making you moan greedily. You really did look like a rag doll or in this case specifically a flesh of light. In either case, you were nothing more than a toy for that sea monster, which he would use and use until he got tired.

“Don't be like that, darling.” Jade laments falsely. “Soon we’ll both start a family and you’ll never have to worry about going back to your old life again.” The merman caresses you in a sickeningly passionate way, holding your chin and forcing your head to the side, in which he leans down and kisses you in a quick brush of lips, thus sealing a deal you never wanted to be a part of. “But until your belly grows…” What an understatement. Your belly was more than full of Jade’s cock and would definitely get much more so as he filled it with his seed.

Without hope of being saved, you brought your hands to your face flooded with tears, uselessly passing them under your opaque orbs, in a foolish attempt to wipe them away. But, unlike what you thought was the solution to the most unimportant of your problems, they didn’t go away. They became angrier. More, incessantly, irritating. Stronger, along with the feelings of fear, sadness and especially anger.

But hey, don’t worry. You would die of cold, hunger or thirst in that place, long before you could even give him your offspring. That was a happy ending for you, wasn't it?

“Let's drown together, yes?"

Thank you for reading this far! If you want to place orders, my message box is always open!

Part 1 and Part 2

[reriart]

Hi i saw your post about Percy headcannons and I was wondering if you could write about Percy together with an adhd reader and the readers meds make them lose their appetite and he helps them eat and just a generally fluffy headcannon?

Hiii! Thank you for asking :3 I have ADHD too, so I hope I somehow made the story more realistic. I hope you don't mind if I ended up writing a fanfic directly, I've been thinking about this comfort story for the entire day!

I'm safe with you.

Additional tags: reader has ADHD and they're using meds, stimming, food disorder, GN!Reader, not smut for once, love confession, very soft Percy. You can read it on AO3 too! Remember that English is not my native language (plus I've wrote it in the middle of the night). Divider: cafekitsune Summary: It has passed three days since the last time you've eat something. You fainted between Percival's arms, who is deadly worried for you.

“I swear I can burp louder than you!” Grog shouted, swaying the overflowing beer mug dangerously, then drinking it all in one gulp and loudly belching in front of Scanlan's face. 

“Pff. You're a rookie. Take that!” the bard replied, echoing the gesture but intensifying the sound through his magic.

The vigorous man crossed his arms over his chest. “That's not fair! I can't win that way!”

On your end, you stood in a corner at the very end of the table, smiling shyly. Or rather, it wasn't so much a shy smile as a nervous one, which exuded discomfort. The medicine that Whitestone's doctor had prescribed for you (Percival had insisted that you go there) tasted terrible and the side effects were even worse: nausea, tremors, lack of appetite, dizziness. Except for that last one, so far you had checked all three off your daily list. You hadn't told anyone about it, to avoid worrying anyone (or even worse, that someone would force you to stay at the De Rolo castle, especially if that someone was your boyfriend). Yet, as soon as you looked up from the plate full of beans and steaming beef, two pale green eyes, circled by an elegant silver frame, were there, staring at you. Eyebrows bent downward, lips half-closed as if to say something. Percy was doing the dishes -- it was his turn (and, besides, he was practically the only one respecting it, besides you) -- but he was close enough to know that something was amiss. Although his attentions were always appreciated by you, whatever their nature, you just wanted to stay by yourself that night. 

However, the first (and only) attempt to sneak away was a fiasco. Two steps and your knees collapsed like a potato bag. Thankfully, keeping you from hitting your head, Percy was right there. He had thrown the plates in the air to catch you on the fly. You felt your mind getting foggy, your mouth heavy. 

“Hey,” he said, his eyes wide. “Are you okay?” “Mm-hm.” You didn't have the energy to think. Curling up in his arms suddenly seemed like the most reasonable choice. He smelled of jasmine and black powder. Around him, Grog, Scanlan and Vax also gathered.

“Maybe I'd better take you to the room. Hold on to me.”

“Do you need a hand?” asked the half-elf, frowning. 

“No, I thank you. I'll take care of it,” he replied, lifting you up and resting his arms behind his neck. Vax couldn't see it, but he was gently stroking your muscles with his thumbs. He loved to run his fingertips over your body, especially when he could get lost in making little circles. Somehow, he was giving comfort to both of you.

He carried you out of the huge dining room without saying anything else, holding you to his body. He was radiating a pleasant warmth, and you instinctively rubbed your face against his blouse on the way. Within minutes, you were in your bed, him sitting beside you, stroking your face.

“Hey,” he said smiling, stroking your cheek. “It's the medicine, isn't it? How long has it been since you've eaten?”

Three fingers up. You hadn't eaten for three days.

“Three days? Holy shit... you should have told me,” he remarked, running a gloved hand through his snow-white hair. 

“I didn't...want to worry you....” Guilt began to weigh down your heart, forcing you to bite your lips nervously and touch your fingertips to each other in a vain attempt to calm down, but it was only his hand under your chin that stopped the flow of obsessive thoughts. He forced you to look at him.

“It has to stop happening, okay? Talk to me. Let's communicate. You don't have to carry everything on your shoulders.”

Yeah. Percival was right. But it was so difficult even the act of thinking sometimes. Your head was perpetually bulging with thoughts, things to do, external stimuli, sounds, smells, textures. The missions, the places to explore and their dangers, the screaming, the blood, the metal, the fire. Medication had lessened all that, it was true. For a moment, sleep and daily life had become more bearable, but food had lost your attention. 

“I'm sorry.” You felt tears in the back of your eyes. The last thing you wanted was to make him angry. 

“You don't have to apologize to me,” he said softly, then stood up and reached for a pitcher and a glass of water. He filled it, handing it to you. “Let's start with the simple things. Drink a little.” 

Very quietly, the first sips went down your throat. Then, faster and faster. In a few moments you had swallowed all the water. Percival watched you from the edge of the bed, one hand on your leg distractedly playing with the fabric of your pants. 

“Good. Shall we try to eat something?”

Your stomach hadn't fully opened yet, but the idea of worrying your boyfriend made you feel worse. 

“W-What can I eat?”

“Let's see-I can get you a slice of cake, if Grog has left some. Gods, he eats like he's still about to grow!” she huffed, raising his hands to the sky and earning your laughter. His green eyes sparkled and he smiled back. “Wait for me.”

“E-even if I wanted to, I don't think I could move from here except as a worm. Crawling.”

He stood up, chuckling. “You're terrible,” he said, kissing your forehead and then pointing toward the door. “I'll be right back.”

You spent the next few minutes looking at your hands. How worn they were ... then, flashes of hands covered by leather gloves: protecting your fingers, squeezing them, medicating them. Not a moment had passed since you had met Percival De Rolo that those hands had been left to their fate. Since he had become your boyfriend, then, less so. The knuckles had been kissed, the hands held on your warm, milk-white chest. Loneliness was but a distant memory, but ... having someone taking care of you was far beyond your expectations. 

Your thoughts were interrupted by the squeaking of the wooden door and the rush of cold air against your skin. Percival was holding not one, but two slices of chocolate cake, rigorously arranged on finely decorated plates. He placed one of them on your thighs, held the other in his hand, then sat back down on the edge of the bed. 

“Can you sit closer?” 

“How much closer?” “Here. Let's eat together.”

Percy, being very careful not to let his dessert fly onto his jacket, settled down next to you at your pat on the mattress. You rested your head on his shoulder for a brief moment, and he rested his own on top of you. Your free hands sought each other, entwining. It was a quiet, long minute, except for your breaths in the cold room. Then, he broke the silence.

“I know it's hard -- but really, let me carry some of your struggles on my shoulders.”

“Percy...you just got a demon off your fucking back, why don't you leave them in peace?”

“Because I love you.”

You almost had a stroke. Yes, you were now a couple (in a very adolescent way, had been your response after an initial, very shy kiss and his question, “What are we?”), but you had never confessed to each other, you had limited yourselves to a few brief contacts of hands, arms and yes, occasionally lips. Things between you were complicated, mainly because neither of you had ever been in a steady relationship and everything was pretty new. 

And just as you opened your mouth to respond, a forkful of cake flew down your throat, followed by her laughter. 

“Percy! I was going to choke-”

A blow kiss sealed your lips. “Maybe I found a way to get you to eat more often.”

[sofya-fanfics]

A Gift From Santa

Fandom : Ranma ½

Relationship : Ranma x Akane

My 2024 12 Days of Christmas Challenge contribution for the prompt : Present.

I’m sorry for the mistakes, English is not my native language. I hope you like it.

Summary : “You are very pretty with those hair clips,” Kasumi said.

Akane smiled at her sister and touched one of the star-shaped hair clips.

“Thank you. It's a gift from Santa.”

She glanced at Ranma and blushed.

Disclaimer : Ranma 1/2 belongs to Rumiko Takahashi.

@12daysofchristmas

AO3 / FF.NET

Ranma was pacing in front of Akane's bedroom. He put a gift package in front of the door but picked it up right away. He had been doing this all night long. Every time he was about to knock on her door, he changed his mind and turned around. Luckily no one saw him. Especially Nabiki who would ask him for more money to keep quiet.

He went back to his bedroom. Genma was fast asleep in his panda form. Ranma sat on his futon and looked at the gift package he had put in front of him. He had bought it a few days ago and he only had a little time left to give it to Akane.

Two weeks ago, when Kasumi had asked them to do some shopping, Akane had stopped in front of a store. She looked longingly at two star-shaped hair clips that were decorated with pink paste. It shone brightly in the light. Akane sighed as she looked at the price and mumbled : “too bad”. She had not said anything else as she left to continue shopping. Ranma watched her walking away and look at the price of the hair clips. He grimaced. He had thought that it would have been the perfect gift for Akane, but he could not buy them.

When he got back to the dojo, he locked himself in his bedroom and took the box where he hid his savings. It was a little money he had managed to save and that he had hidden so his father and Happosai would not find it. If they ever got their hands on it, they would rush to spend it all. He counted the few bills that were in it. As he thought, it was not enough to buy the hair clips. He knew what he had to do. He had to ask Nabiki for money. She accepted in exchange for interest. Ranma knew that he has had it. There was nothing worse than owing Nabiki money. But he wanted to give Akane this gift. And now that it was Christmas time, he did not dare give it to her.

He ran his hands through his hair angrily and growled in annoyance. Genma rolled over abruptly, but he did not wake up. Ranma stood up. This time, he would give her his gift. And there was only one way for no one to see him.

He went out into the garden and jumped onto a branch of the tree in front of Akane's window. He managed to open it and he entered the bedroom without making a sound. He heard small squeals. Ranma frowned. Of course, Ryoga was there. Sometimes, he could not bear seeing him turn into a little pig to stay in Akane's bed. Ranma wondered how he managed to keep his mouth shut and not reveal anything to her. Because even if they were rivals, they were still friends, a little voice in his head said every time. Ryoga squealed louder.

“Shut up, you idiot ! You'll wake up Akane.”

Ryoga jumped on him and bit his hand. Ranma stopped himself from screaming in pain. He shook his hand violently, throwing Ryoga who bounced off the wall and landed on the bed. Akane rolled over at the same time and squashed the little pig with all her weight. Ryoga tried to free himself, but could not. Ranma laughed and gave him a dirty look.

“Serves you right,” he said.

He put the gift on the nightstand. He looked at Akane one last time and smiled. He climbed onto the windowsill and jumped into the garden.

******

The next morning, the whole family was gathered around the table to have breakfast. Akane arrived with Ryoga, or rather P-chan, in her arms. She sat down and Kasumi handed her a bowl of rice.

“You are very pretty with those hair clips.”

Akane smiled at her sister and touched one of the star-shaped hair clips.

“Thank you. It's a gift from Santa.”

Kasumi looked at her, surprised, but did not ask for more explanation. Akane glanced at Ranma and blushed. She turned her attention back to her breakfast. Ranma blushed as well and he could not help thinking that she was really pretty with her hair clips.

The end

[tai0miemi]

For you, my favorite moralists♡

Caution! The topic of dark content, transophobia (as it seems to some), double standards and hypocrisy

English is not my native language, I express myself as best I can, OK?

This post is dedicated to all the freaking moralists who, because of fake characters, bully real writers and people who read what they like.

Are you worried that a child/teenager will see inc*st/r*pe topics, but for some reason you think it's okay not to put tags in works where there are trans people?

The authors of dark content set an age limit in bold text, write a bunch of tags and warnings so that your delicate brain does not deteriorate, at the same time as the authors writing about trans!reader × character or trance!character does not put anything at all most often.

I'm tired of you. I don't want to read the work and in the middle realize that a female reader has a d*ck. I don't want to read a work where a biologically male character turns out to have a vag*na. PUT IT DOWN. FUCKING. TAGS. So that people can just block you and not read it.

I'm not opposed to your writing, I just don't like it and that's okay. We're all different people and we like different things. However, I am fed up with moralists that in every tag that they do not like they make a tragedy of universal scale and then humiliate the authors who write it while they do not care about such a topic with trances. Seriously? Do you think that if a child sees these works, then it's ok? If you're against it, then you're fucking hypocrites. Leave the authors of dark content alone.

And here's another thing. I really "like" when they write "mention of female anatomy" in job warnings. Hmm, I wonder who it is? I don't even know if this creature is called a WOMAN. And leave your comments about the sex change, an artificial hole between the legs is not a biological vag*na, OK?

Do not write comments, do not like or reblog. This post was made with the sole purpose of attracting attention and adding kirosine to the fire♡

UPD: Thank you all for promoting the discussion, thanks to you, as many people as possible will see the post!

UPD2: You can call me transophobic all you want, but your brain missed the point of this post. No matter what you say, you have no right to poison other people just because you personally don't like something. Trans people is a specially chosen topic so that you can look at yourself from the outside, how stupid you sound from the outside. Congratulations you got caught :P

UPD3: For fans of protecting trans people: Do you think that no one has an injury related to this? Maybe a person made a sex change and regretted it, maybe someone was raped by a trans person and for them this is content that they want to avoid. However, you protect some, and wish death to others.

You are shifting responsibility for the crimes to the authors. Much more innocent things can encourage a person to commit crimes.

I sincerely believe that no matter what dirt a person writes, if it does not go beyond fan fiction, then everything is fine. The harassment of authors is much worse than any violence in literature!!

[crazylittlejester]

what are some of your headcannons about legend? (Love your work by the way it’s so good every time I read it 💙)

- Not at all rude or mean person, he just SERIOUSLY struggles to control his tone and his facial expressions and can come off as super moody or standoffish but really he’s just chillin’

- Genuinely has the STUPIDEST sense of humor, like the kind that makes you laugh anyway even though the joke isn’t funny AT ALL

- He and Wars will find a way to compete over anything and everything. Who drank the most water that day. Who got the most monsters. Who knows the most languages (Legend is furious Wars knows just One more than he does, and it’s even worse because it’s Warriors’s native language and Legend could literally only learn it from him but if Wars wants to keep the achievement of knowing the most languages he’ll never teach him)

- On top of hoarding trinkets, he likes to make his own! He makes a LOT of jewelry, for himself and for others

- Really really almost comically bad at verbally comforting others or having deep conversations, he just has absolutely no idea what to say, so he shows his love and support through small actions or little gifts

- Chronic pain issues that have an effect on his ability to walk. Some days it’s really bad and he doesn’t want to move at all

- Very close with Hyrule, but he’s closest to Sky. Since Hyrule comes AFTER him he almost feels like he has to make sure he lives up to whatever legends Hyrule’s heard about him. Sky hasn’t heard SHIT about him before all this and therefore knows nothing so it’s easier to just exist, plus they bond over their love for the Master Sword

- His speaking voice sounds really raspy, like he’s constantly in that state of having lost his voice after screaming at a concert for like four hours. But despite that, he’s a very good singer. The raspy quality of his voice oddly works with the soft and gentle songs he learned along his adventures, but he’s super insecure about it and will not be caught dead singing

- Has definitely pushed Warriors on a flight of stairs at least twice and got away with it because Sky loves him and all he has to do is go to Sky for support and he can get away with murder

- I headcanon he IS part of the royal bloodline and Fable’s younger (twin) brother, because I like the angsty ass idea that Legend is super close to Sky but is a bit afraid if Sky ever found out he was his descendant he’d be disappointed 🧍‍♂️

- I also headcanon he’s just a little bit younger than Hyrule, with him being ALMOST 18, and Hyrule being a month or two past 18. No one will ever learn about this though, Legend has them all convinced he’s 19-20 and he intends to keep it that way

(ALSO AAAH THANK YOU SO MUCH IM GLAD YOU LIKE MY SILLY STUFF)

[metamorphesque]

Have you ever been frustated with your own translations because its not the same in other language?

It has different meaning (cultural?) or just don't have a word in english and you have yo use another

Worse if there is a pun or a play or words that you literally can't translate cuz its loses its meaning?

Yes, yes and yes to all of those questions.

Of course, things are bound to get lost in translation – sadly, it’s a given, and one must come to terms with it. But, let me tell you, Armenian and English are two very different languages. I never really noticed most of those differences until I started translating literature. Armenian is more forgiving when it comes to writing poetry.

Let me illustrate what I mean: in Armenian, you can often change the positions of words in a sentence, and the meaning will remain the same. This is because we have seven different grammatical cases, which makes learning the grammar quite difficult, but in return, the language becomes more flexible and less rigid. In English, however, there are only two cases: the common case and the genitive case.

In English, for example, you say:

“My heart will never forget you.”

However, you cannot change the positions of the subject and the object without switching to passive voice. You cannot say:

“You will never forget my heart” and keep the meaning of the previous sentence.

In Armenian, on the other hand, it’s not only possible but this trick is used quite often in literature to make sentences and lines sound more poetic. This is because words have different forms as subjects and objects of sentences. For example, the word “you” is “du” if it’s a subject, and “qez” if it’s an object.

Speaking of “you,” in Armenian it has two forms: “du” is “you” as singular, and “duq” is “you” as plural. The plural form is also used when talking to someone one respects or is not familiar with. This nuance, sadly, gets lost in translation.

These are just two minor differences. There are so many more. Don’t even get me started on the words that don’t have accurate equivalents in English. Armenian poets also tend to make up new words in their poems – another beautiful hurdle.

But I guess the thing that I find the most challenging, especially while working with classic poems, is keeping the rhymes of the original. A lot of beauty lies in the way the words sound next to one another, the way the lines sound following each other, and the way the poem overall sounds. I try to stay as faithful as possible to the sound of the original work.

Having said all of this, through translating Armenian poetry I rediscovered the beauty of my native tongue. It’s so special and unique; one must treat each word with reverence.

Anyways, I hope I didn’t bore you to death.

[green-apple-juice]

My take on the Angbang reunion when Melkor finally returns to Mairon after being separated for 3,000 years. This is part of my fanfic, which I originally wrote in Ukrainian because my English isn’t perfect, and I feel more comfortable expressing the thoughts in my native language. I liked this part, so I tried to translate it. I hope you enjoy it, but I apologize for any mistakes.

***

“You have not changed at all… my dear Mairon…” A soft chuckle came from above. “My loyal lieutenant. Rise and let me finally look at you.”

The Maia obeyed, though the words sounded more like a request than a command. When he was near Melkor, the line between the two often blurred, like a pattern in the sand washed away by the stormy sea. Still, no matter how the words were spoken, he could not ignore his master’s will.

Mairon rose to his full height before the bed, straightening his back and trying to keep his expression calm, though the tears welling in his throat were impossible to suppress entirely. He knew, of course, that hiding them was futile. Melkor knew him too well—he had always been able to read Mairon as easily as an open book.

Now wasn't the time to show weakness. Mairon feared Melkor might take it as an insult or, worse, as pity. He had no right to pity one whose name was the very embodiment of power and majesty. Melkor didn't need his tears. No matter what had happened, he was still the lord of the world, his king. Even now, injured and exhausted, he remained the one who had conquered both the world and Mairon himself.

For a long moment, Melkor was silent, simply studying his lieutenant. He neither spoke nor moved—it seemed as if he wasn’t even breathing. Mairon dared not look up, but as the silence dragged on, screaming in his ears, he could endure it no longer. Finally, he whispered:

“My lord?…”

Their eyes met. Mairon felt his knees weaken, but not from fear or despair at having disappointed his beloved. In Melkor’s black eyes, there was no disgust, no rage. Instead, he gazed upon Mairon as though he were the greatest and most beautiful being in all the universe. A gentle smile touched his lips, and in the deep darkness of his eyes, there was a glimmer like starlight reflected on the ocean’s surface. Yet to Mairon, that sight outshone even the creations of Varda.

It was with that same gaze that Melkor had welcomed Mairon on the day he arrived in Utumno, leaving behind Aulë, Yavanna, and all of Almaren to pledge the eternal devotion to his new master. And it was with that same gaze that he looked upon him each time their passionate embraces carried them into oblivion, in the whirlwind of shared ecstasy.

“You are as perfect as the day I last saw you,” Melkor whispered, his deep, low voice trembling. “As if it were only yesterday.”

“But it was so long ago,” Mairon said before he could stop himself. The words escaped more like a sob, raw with pain. “And it was hard for me. I… I missed you, my lord. So much that I thought I would lose my mind. I wanted to go to Valinor and kill Manwë and Varda with my own hands for parting us. Or fall to my knees before them and beg permission to be with you.”

His legs gave out again, and Mairon nearly collapsed, clutching the edge of the bed as if it were the only thing keeping him upright. He knew he had no right to voice such feelings. He should have been reporting to Melkor about important matters: the fortress, ready to rise above the land, grander than ever; the army, gathered and awaiting orders to kill the enemies and glorify his name. Those were the things that mattered—his own emotions did not. And yet, the words poured from him, unstoppable, breaking through all barriers and drowning him in a torrent of longing and despair.

“But you did not do it, and for that, I am proud of you,” Melkor’s hoarse whisper came again, as the rustling of leaves in the wind. “I knew you would remain strong, even when it was unbearable. In doing so, you helped me as well. It would have been far more painful to see you there—forced to humble yourself before them, to beg for mercy, to promise to amend and atone for your guilt. And then to watch them imprison you, or worse, condemn you to serve that wretched Aulë again. They… they do not deserve you. None of them do. They are unworthy even to touch a single strand of your hair, Mairon.“

Mairon held his breath, hanging on every word. Melkor’s wounded hands gripped the edge of the bedspread as he continued:

“I have endured everything that has befallen me because I held your face in my mind. I thought of you waiting for me. And I know you will wait—however long it may take. You are my most precious treasure, my fiery Maia, my other half. You belong to me—you are mine, and mine alone. More than that, you chose to be mine, and not even damn Eru can change that.”

Mairon could not find the words to fully express what he felt upon hearing this. The knowledge that Melkor had never stopped thinking of him, that their love had not faded but had only grown brighter and stronger, filled his heart. Their bond had hardened, like molten metal shaped in the flames of a forge, hammered into a weapon forged for unwavering loyalty and vengeance against their enemies.

Mairon felt as though he could destroy the entire world to avenge the suffering and loss they had endured.

But doing so would mean leaving Melkor alone in this room—and he would sooner die than abandon him now. Instead, Mairon did what he had dreamed of through all those long, lonely years, when he lay in his cold, empty bed and dared to imagine Melkor by his side.

Grasping Melkor’s pale face with trembling hands, he pressed his lips to his master’s dry, cracked ones, breathing in his familiar scent, tasting the iron tang of blood, and savoring the warmth of his breath. In that moment, it felt as though the unyielding chain that had bound his heart for all those endless years—forcing him to smother his emotions, choking him with pain—was finally breaking apart, freeing him at last.