#or uses squeak as a verb

[djsadbean]

au where professor boxleitner and squeaky fuse but now there’s just a really nice and knowledgeable man controlling a little mouse who is still wordgirl’s mentor but he’s now a mouse

[dummerjan]

asdfghjklöä just wrote my upstairs neighbour a note about how their sex is very audible and to please try pay attention to the noise level this is so umcomfortable but too often I couldn't fall asleep or have woken up in the middle of the night because of the noise

[conazo]

Valentino writing tips: language

I’m not an expert by any means, but I thought I might provide some insight into how I, personally, handle the nasty moth's dialogue.

Like all languages, Spanish is highly regional. We don’t really know Val’s actual background as a Sinner, so your guess is as good as mine. Given his VA is Puerto Rican, however, I write Valentino as someone who speaks Caribbean Spanish (like me!). The three Spanish-speaking countries/territories in the Caribbean are: Puerto Rico, the Dominican Republic, and Cuba. I'm not familiar with Cuban Spanish, so we'll focus on the first two for now.

Some of these are more specific to one place than the other, but I’m mushing them together for simplicity’s sake (don't come at me).

Fun quirks of Dominican and Puerto Rican Spanish:

A habit of shortening words, like “ven pa’ca” (“come here”) instead of “ven para acá.” We frequently eat the letters “r,” “s” or “d” toward or at the end of some words.

Pronouncing “r” as “l” in some words.

Pronouncing “t” as a soft sound between a “th” and a “d.” Although this voice has a Spanish (from Spain) cadence, you can hear the modified “t” sound in “Valentino” here.

Fun Dominican and Puerto Rican words and phrases:

“Coño” as a casual curse, typically used as an expression of frustration (like “fuck!”). My username is basically a really intense version of coño, and is a very Dominican phrase.

“Diablo,” which means “devil,” is also commonly used as an exclamation.

“Hijo de la gran puta,” a classic that roughly parallels "son of a bitch," but literally translates to “son of a great whore.”

“Papi” or “papi chulo” (“cute daddy”) as a term of affection. “Papito” is the diminutive version of this phrase.

On that note, you can add “ito” to the end of just about anything to make it a diminutive (cutesy/smaller version). “Chulo” means cute, for example. “Chulito” is the even more affectionate/smaller version of that.

“Dique,” which is used to express doubt. Vox might say, “I am not obsessed with Alastor!” Valentino might mutter “diiiique” in response. This is a Dominican thing.

“Wepa,” which is something usually shouted in excitement. This is a Puerto Rican thing.

“Vaina,” which kind of means “thing,” often with a negative connotation. So, Valentino might look at one of Velvette’s designs, find it hideous, and say, “que vaina más fea, oof” (“what an ugly thing, oof”).

“Fó,” which is sort of “ew” or “gross,” usually re: bad smells. You shout it.

“Mano,” short for “hermano” (“brother”). Used between friends.

“Dímelo” (“tell me”) as a greeting. Something that would be said when answering the phone, for example.

“Cojer” as a means of saying “to take,” like taking something from a table. This word has a very different context in other regions. In Mexico, for example, the verb “cojer” is vulgar and means “to fuck.”

“Ahorita,” which in my experience means “later.” In other regions, it can mean “right now” or “later” depending on context.

Commonly used phrases in Mexican Spanish.

You’ll want to avoid these if you’d like his dialogue to be consistently Caribbean-inspired:

“Pinche”

“Verga”

“Wey”

“No mames/no manches”

“Qué padre”

“Chingar”

Calling acquaintances “primo” or “jefe”

I mention this Spanish dialect specifically because it's the most common one in the world. And hey, Val could be canonically Mexican or Mexican in your headcanon! That's cool, too. I'm just providing insight for consistency's sake.

Other insight:

“Ay dios mío!” is a generally overused phrase, in my opinion, and not actually said IRL as frequently as TV makes it seem. Just my experience, though.

“Ay” or “uy” are good filler sounds. You hear Val shout it when Niffty snaps at him.

Valentino canonically squeaks like a moth when passionate!

His voice takes on an echo/growl when he’s particularly angry.

Mixing English and Spanish is tricky. Spanglish is not uncommon in PR, DR, and the US, but usually only when speaking with someone else who is fluent in both languages. Valentino seems plenty fluent in English; he uses lots of contractions, complex sentence structure, and slang. He doesn’t need to inject Spanish phrases in favor of English ones when conversing with another English speaker. He does do it sometimes for emphasis (“the devil’s princesa” or “this chiquita”).

As cliché as it is, defaulting to a Spanish phrase in moments of alarm, anger, frustration, or affection is also not uncommon if you grew up in a Spanish-speaking home. If someone surprises me, I shout “coño” by default, for example.

Valentino uses pet names when referring to others, like "amorcito" (“little love”) and "Angie" over voicemail.

Generally speaking, Val likes to stretch his vowels to be theatrical ("he mooooved!"). He sometimes eats the ends of English words, like “fuckin’” instead of “fucking.” He also sometimes rolls his “r” for English words, like in “ungrrrateful whore!”

Val's accent isn’t consistently strong, which could be a stylistic choice, or he could just be prone to a kind of unique code switching, for lack of a better term. My friends say I speak English with a Spanish accent when conversing with my family, for example (it’s not intentional).

Okay that’s it, bye!

[wolfiso]

Girl Genius Self Insert OC Poll

The world of Girl Genius is frightfully well populated for a setting of Marvelous Manic Mad Science. It's very easy to imagine all sorts of folk in the background feuding, flouncing, fighting, (and other verbs that start with f ;)) without necessarily crossing paths with the main story. With that in mind, let's imagine for a moment...

[ohbo-ohno]

https://www.tumblr.com/ohbo-ohno/729216166582681600/httpswwwtumblrcomohbo-ohno729211936036765696

“You can give her a bath when we get home.”

I’m??!!!! Bo.

Simon carries you the whole way home, only lets Johnny take you when he’s got a bath prepared. Simon kinda sways back and forth with you a bit, as if trying to soothe you as you cry and struggle.

Johnny enthusiastically strips you and plunks you in the bath, has way too much fun lathering you up and washing your hair. Puts you in his clothes afterwards, cuddles you to his chest with your hair wrapped up in a towel. Simon watches the whole time, taking note of how quiet and submissive you are already. Perfect little bunny

🌚

I’m??!!!! Smirking Moon.

looooove love love simon trying to soothe you but refusing to be obvious about it. like he is scolding you and glaring but he will also sway back and forth with you tucked in his arms, maybe even hum real low and quiet for you. ugh. horrible

bath time with johnny. im breathing so heavily

"plunks" is the perfect verb there - he'd want to have fun in the bath with you. wants to make you comfortable around him, is a little too delusional to notice just how scared you are. he's pouring all sorts of bubble bath into the water, winks conspiratorially at you sand says simon never lets me have fun in here on my own, you can be my excuse now. simon rolls his eyes where he stands leaned against the counter, but doesn't speak up. johnny gives you a bubble mohawk and laughs, declares happily that you match him now. he's real energetic in washing you, scrubs at your scalp aggressively when he shampoos it, piles it up on your head to keep it dry for conditioner. he'd start getting a bit much when he washes the rest of your body, would need a few stern johnnys from simon to remind him he can't fuck you or eat you out yet. makes him whiney and pouty and you shivery and scared :/

puts you in his clothes aftwardsssssss ughhhh. big ol military sweatshirt that goes past your fingertips and down to mid thigh. hugs you real tight to him, gets both arms around your waist and squeezes until you squeak, then laughs and squeezes a little tighter. buries his nose in your hair (which smells like him now because he used his shampoo on you) and breathes in deep.

you're quiet because you're scared. can't see anything, have no idea what's going on around you or where the second man is. it leaves you with a fast heartbeat, mind unable to relax. simon doesn't see the need to enlighten you, seeing as you're so still and good when you're spooked.

i still love the closet-nest thing even though this isn't an abo au, and i can just see johnny wrapping you up tight in his arms and dropping straight into a pile of blankets, laughing at your little cry

[yzeltia]

FFXIVwrite2024 17. Sally

Featuring: @erickgage 's Erick Gage. Allusion to @driftward 's Zoisette Vauban

Characters: Sally, U'rahn Nuhn, Violet Fisher, Thancred Waters, Alisaie Leveilleur, Alphinaud Leveilleur, Jullus pyr Norbanus, Estinien Wrymblood, Krile Baldesion, G'raha Tia, Y'shtola Rhul, Jannie Eyradoux Fortemps, Artriole Fortemps, Haurchefaunt Fortemps

Rating: T

Summary: The Scions and friends mourn the loss of one of their own.

Notes: Used lines from Funeral Blues by W.H. Auden

U’rahn swallowed as he looked at the crowd out familiar, yet sad faces, adjusting his tie briefly before leaning into the podium checking in with Y’shtola as she tended to the one most aggrieved by the loss as she sat stunned.  Getting a nod that it was time, he cleared his throat and began. “Thank you all for coming today. We all loved Sally dearly. She was the most faithful of companions and a true Scion in her own right. I do not have the words to describe the loss we will feel in our lives without her, but I know we collectively have fond memories of her and invite those who have one they’d like to share to come up and take the stage.

Violet shifted, looking over her shoulders to see if anyone else would be brave enough to go first. “Oh swive me,” he muttered under her breath before standing and relieving U’rahn of the mic. “Sally was always dependable. She saw me through so many…many mistakes and at one time, saved me from ruining a good friendship…”

Violet stretched in the cramped hull of the ship, careful not to knock her hand against the metal interior with her bottle of ale. Across from her, Thancred nursed his own bottle, still shaken from the revelations of the Word of the Mother. This little excursion, Violet had thought, was a good means to get him to forget. At the very least he was in a safe controlled environment where he could get it out of his system.

Eyeing his goatee, she grunted then straddled his lap, tilting his chin up with a finger. “I really hate this thing. When are you going to shave it,” she asked with a smirk.

“Haven’t heard a complaint from a lady yet,” Thancred responded gruffly, wobbling his head as he tried to move from her finger.

“I’m a lady,” Violet said, raising her brow.

“Ne’er knew a lady to say ‘swiven’ was her favorite word,” Thancred growled.

“Word. Expletive. Adjective. Verb,” Violet listed.

Thancred jerked his head away then held Violet by the small of her back as he sat up. “A regular grammar dictionary are you now?”

Violet flushed, finding his head pressed against her breasts as he embraced her. They’d always exchanged innuendos, yet always as careful banter as he’d had eyes for only Minfilia…perhaps not eyes, but definitely his heart. Now she was gone and Violet even tipsy could sense the loneliness. Frowning, she stroked through his hair, pulling his head back a bit as she gazed down into his eyes.

Her heart raced a moment, their gaze locked. Shyly, she leaned forward, drawing her face in before being lurched off Thancred’s lap as they ran aground. “Swiven hells,” she huffed, getting up to go see what they’d found. Finding themselves running along a sandbar, she raked her hair back then focused on getting them back on course.

“Sorry,” Thancred mumbled from behind, leaning forward to make sure they were free of the obstacle.

“Don’t mention it. Ever,” Violet said, face still flushed. “Why don’t you get us some water? Maybe we talk about Minfilia and Lousioux and drown our sorrows in memory instead.”

Violet drummed her fingers on the side of the podium for a moment then shook her head. “Anyway. She was beautiful and she’ll be missed,” she said before returning to take a seat, Riol looking at her with his brow raised a moment before looking away immediately as she snapped her attention to him.

Alisaie came up next, Urianger behind her with his hand on her shoulder as she snuffled away. “Sally was…I didn’t even get to say goodbye…I…Urianger, please, the poem,” she squeaked, unable to prevent the tears from coming.

Urianger nodded then cleared his throat, “Stop all the chronometers, cut off the tomestones. Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone…

Alisaie crossed her arms as she pressed her cheek up against the porthole, watching outward into the empty nothingness of the sea. “Are we there yet?” she sighed. 

“Thou will be upon the shore again before thou knows it,” Urianger said, not looking up from his book.

“I’m bored though. There’s nothing to do in this cramped tin can,” she lamented, knocking her knuckles against the side.

“There is an endless expanse of sea just outside your window. A whole hidden world. Relax, and take it in,” Urianger responded, flipping a page.

Alisaie rolled her eyes and let her attention wander out into the empty expanse, though after a bit, she noticed that something was amiss with the veil-like light filtering down from the sea above. Squinting carefully, she began to notice a scalelike quality to veil. Her eyes widened, realizing it was a large school of fish swimming in perfect unison.

This didn’t go interrupted though. Soon a large maw appeared and scooped up the lot followed by a low song. Alisaie pressed her nose against the glass, hearing a melody all around them as two baby whales circled about their parents, scooping more of the fish veil as the rest of the school scattered. She watched in awe, the little family following alongside them. Perhaps it wasn’t so bad under the sea.

“...Pour away the ocean, and sweep up the wood; For nothing now can ever come to any good,” Urianger finished before taking a sobbing Alisaie back to her seat.

Alphinaud followed his sister, looking out at the crowd gravely. “I’m not sure what to say. I thought Sally would long be a beloved part of the Scions. I have never been found of the water, as many of you know, but Sally helped me overcome my fear of the swimming and so much more…”

Alphinaud hugged his knees, the Thavnair’s humidity getting to him. Jullus beside him had long discarded his coat into the bowls of their ship, leaning over the side now touching the still seawater as they floated through a wooded lagoon they surfaced in. Fireflies danced about them as Jullus’s hand reached for Alphinaud’s

“Sally sure found us the perfect spot. This place is almost like a dream,” Jullus breathed out before turning to the other.

Locusts cried while crickets creaked. Frogs sang to one another as catfish splashed around them. Their vessel seemed to slowly spin, making Alphinaud slightly dizzy. He leaned into Jullus who caught him then pressed their foreheads together, smiling softly before tilting his head to go for a kiss.

Alphinaud blushed as the memory ran across his mind, hand briefly coming up to touch his lips before being pushed aside by Estinien. “Sally helped me take on my greatest foe and brought me my greatest rewards,” he said into the mic as it squeaked out.

Estinien’s eyes widened as his prey came into view, the console beeping as the creature came closer. “By the Fury, Sally, there she is. The great squid of the Indigo Deep. Tonight we dine like the saints of eld,” he said before getting his harpoon ready.

“No one believes you’ve taken on and fried a giant squid,” Krile interrupted from the audience, giving G’raha tissues as he wept. “Oh, Raha. You didn’t even know Sally.”

“I knew OF her though! So many adventures. Every one meticulously logged so that I felt as if I was there myself,” G’raha blubbered. 

“Prayers…Sorrows…,” Krile sighed, patting his back.

“I have a memory,” Jannie chimed in, cradling Haurchefant in her arms as he slept. She stood, taking the podium as Estinien grumpily stepped down. “Sally made sure that Arteriole was there in time for Haurchefaunt’s birth.”

Jannie cried out as she felt another contraction ring through her body. She cursed Rahn for convincing her that the relaxing sea air of Costa del Sol would do her some good before the pregnancy…but also was relieved to have him around as he fetched her water. Grateful that he took his doula training very seriously in preparation for his own daughters. Still, her husband hadn’t come with them, instead seeing to business in Limsa Lominsa in hopes of fostering further trade between the seaside nation and Isghard. For that, she felt might not forgive him.

“Rahn! I swear if Arty misses his son's birth I will swiven let him throw you into the deepest dungeon of the Vault where even Aymeric will not find you,” she hissed before letting out an appreciated whine as he laid out a cold cloth over her head.

“Okay okay! Let it all out. I am used to the verbal abuse of the huntresses by now,” U’rahn assured her.

“Yeah! Let Rahn have it,” Violet cheered, keeping her distance from the scene.

“I promise Arty is coming. Sally will see him here! In the meantime, big breaths and squeeze me. Don’t worry, you can’t break me!”

“I’m sure going to try,” Jannie hissed, taking his hand and squeezing it with all her might.

“Jannie! Jannie my love! I’ve come with a courjen!” Arteriole’s voice called out from across the beach, looking absolutely winded as he did his best to run through the sand, their baby bag tucked under his arm while a little lalafell in a lab coat followed.

Jannie let out a sigh, looking out to Sally in the distance and smiling before closing her eyes, relieved and ready to begin to bring their son into the world.

“If it wasn’t for Sally, you wouldn’t have ever gotten to meet your Uncle Rahn,” Jannie cooed to Haurchefant as he stirred awake, U’rahn swallowing behind her as she went to take a seat.

“Ah. Well, if that’s everyone…We will now let her sink to the depths of the aquarium where she can live out her days among us and in the ocean waters she loved so much. For the last time ladies and gentlemen: Dive Sally, Dive,” U’rahn said solemnly, getting a wail of grief from the front row as the urn plunged into the water.

In the back a door swung open, Erick gage scanning the crowd then up at the stage. “What is wrong with all of you? This is a place of business!! Who throws a funeral for a submarine!?"

[champion-level-astroturfing]

Presented entirely without comment

[a video!

It starts, unhelpfully, mostly dark and somewhat blurry as the lenses struggle to focus. From the way the view jiggles around and the breathing audible from somewhere very close, this was filmed by Shardy himself; no rotoms were involved. Does he even have a rotomphone?

After a second or two, the scene resolves itself into something recognisable. It's the same place as the photographs of the first confrontation with the Rattata; a dingy behind-the-scenes concrete pen of an area, with a couple of large industrial dumpsters squatting in the shadows. From the looks of it, Shardy is situated behind what might be another dumpster, or something else equally large. Just about visible, sitting next to a dumpster who's lid is visibly mauled even in the low light, is the cage-trap. It's propped open, something carefully situated inside it as bait- probably peanut butter, unless he's come up with something better in the meantime.

"Now we wait," Shardy mumbles from behind the phone. And wait he does. Nothing happens for a good ten minutes, plenty of time for the video, and the stakeout, to become very boring. Increasing amounts of sighs, uncomfortable noises, and irritated little clicks and grumbles become audible.

And then a quiet intake of breath, as something very close makes a noise.

Movement helps a more defined shadow grows out of the darkness, something relatively small and four-legged with big round ears and a long tail. It slowly steps out towards the bins, then freezes as a motion-detecting light snaps on, flooding the area with brightness. There's a heartbeat of stillness, but the Pokemon is clearly used to this; after a quick check of the surroundings, it approaches its target without any obvious fear.

The trap is noted immediately as unusual, and some time is spent carefully inspecting it. After the third or so time the 'mon has approached the entrance, then changed its mind and backed away, a faint, yet deeply impatient, groan of "C'moooooon" escapes Shardy. The Pokemon twitches its ears, glancing around, and he swallows the sound with a frustrated little hiccup.

The Rattata contemplates the trap.

It's a big 'mon, by Rattata standards. It looks a bit like someone has taken a Makuhita and somehow changed it into a rat- its haunches and belly are thick and round and shiny, where they aren't crisscrossed with old scars. It's missing several chunks out of its ears, and there's the beginning of white fur around its muzzle; this is an old Rattata, smart enough and powerful enough to make one hell of a living for itself.

And its teeth are huge. Both sets of incisors protrude proudly from its jaws, a healthy shade of yellow, undamaged, a mighty set of chompers that should really be gracing the whiskered face of a Raticate. This 'mon could have evolved a long time ago, but clearly never considered it worth its while.

It looks on the verge of deciding the trap isn't worth its while either. It scratches at an ear, looks towards the exit. Shardy makes the softest little whining noise.

Then, almost casually, it turns and shoulders its way into the trap's waiting embrace.

'Shoulders' is definitely the right verb for what it's doing. The trap is designed for 'mons of average Rattata size, and this is no average Rattata. It squeezes its front end in easily enough, reaching for the bait, but a problem arises when it tries to fit its back end in.

"Oh Heroes," Shardy breathes. "Fucking rat's got too much cake."

The trap bounces and rattles as the Rattata works its way far enough inside to grab its prize. The mechanism that works the door should have sprung by now, but unfortunately there is too much Rattata ass in the way. There's a strained clicking sound, and the Pokemon makes a slightly annoyed squeaking noise as the flap attempts to close on it, but nothing is ultimately achieved.

The Rattata wiggles a bit. Then, apparently perfectly comfortable, it settles down to eat.

"I can't believe this," Shardy whispers, then, louder, "Hey! Fucking Rattata! Get out of here if you're not going to get caught!"

He stands up, the video blurring as he moves, and steps out into the open. The Pokemon, caught, stops licking at what is now more clearly visible as, yes, a jar of peanut butter.

For a moment, there's silence.

The Rattata is the first to break it. There's a sudden burst of clattering as it tries to back out of the trap, but its back end is jammed in the entrance. Without hesitation it flips itself up to stand on its back legs, little front paws gripping the mesh, and stares at Shardy with disconcertingly intelligent eyes.

Shardy stares back, breathing raspy and loud in the phone's mic.

Without breaking eye contact, the Rattata opens its mouth and Bites at the metal.

The trap (guaranteed to stand up to all kinds of Biting moves!) puts up something of a resistance, or at least it doesn't immediately crumple. But the Rattata Bites again, and the thinner wire snaps, and a third Bite destroys the rest.

Then the Pokemon flexes its shoulders and pushes its paws against the sides of the cage, and with a bit of effort and some grunting and wriggling, forces enough of a gap that it can climb out.

The mangled trap falls aside. The Rattata looks up at Shardy again.

Then it turns and scampers away into the darkness of the backstreets.

The last thing on the recording is a bewildered "What the fuck?"

[a-pop-of-korean]

hi! would you mind doing a breakdown of stray kids' muddy water if you have time? thanks for all the work on your blog!

네! Thanks for the request and for your patience! Check out my Breakdown Masterlist for the rest of the songs I’ve broken down. If there’s a song I haven’t done yet that you’d like to see, send me a message! Also, I put links to my full-length lessons for most of the grammar points I explain, so check those out for more info!

I referred to this lyric video and this lyric video to help me out with the translations! This song was challenging for me, but I hope my translations are accurate! If not, someone please let me know!

Stray Kids - "Muddy Water"

Vocabulary

선택 = Choice

새 = New

칙칙하다 = Dark; somber

신다 = To wear [shoes/socks]

빡세다 = To do something hard

당당히 = Boldly; confidently

앞 = In front of

뒤 = Behind

아프다 = To hurt; to be sick

원망하다 = To resent

티를 내다 = To pose [as something]; to let something show

절대 = Never

튀다 = To spring/bounce/splash

진흙 = Mud

고이다 = To salivate

내리다 = To fall/come down

흠뻑 젖다 = To be soaking wet

탁하다 = Murky; muddy; hazy

공기 = Air

흙탕물 = Muddy water

멀리 = Far away

빠지다 = To fall out; to fall into; to ebb

뱉다 = To spit

반드시 = Surely; certainly

한참 = For a long time

삐꺽 = Onomatopoeia for squeaking

Grammar

올바른 선택 뭐든 새 걸 좋아하는 때 굳이 칙칙한 운동화는 신지 않아도 돼 Double Knot 빡세게 묶고 당당히 걸어가다 보면 내 앞에 있던 것들 뒤에 서 있게 돼

Whatever the right decision is, when you like new things / You don’t have to put on your dull sneakers / Double knot, I tightly tie them and while confidently walking / I end up standing behind the things in front of me

[verb stem] + 아/어/여도 되다

This structure gives permission to do something and is usually translated as “you can.” Literally, it means “even if you [verb], it works.”

When you use [verb stem] + 지 않아도 되다, therefore, this mean “even if you don’t [verb], it works” or, more naturally, “you don’t have to [verb].” 신다 means “to wear/put on [shoes],” so 운동화 신지 않아도 돼 means “you don’t have to wear/put on your sneakers”

[verb stem] + 다 보면

This structure, according to topikguide.com,  expresses that “if one does something over a period of time and then (something) will happen/occur eventually.” 당당히 걸어가다 보면 / 내 앞에 있던 것들 뒤에 서 있게 돼, then, means “while confidently walking [over a period of time], I end up standing behind the things in front of me.”

누굴 원망하는 것도 속 안 아픈 척도 난 티를 절대 내지 않아 유치한 건 별로 널 원망하는 것도 속 안 아픈 척도 다 튀어 버린 진흙 딛고 앞만 보고 달려가

Resenting others and pretending it doesn’t hurt / I never let it show, I don’t like being childish / Resenting you and pretending it doesn’t hurt / I step on the splashed mud and run forward

[adjective stem] + ㄴ/은 척(하다)

This structure means to “pretend to be [adjective].” 속 안 아픈 척하다 means “to pretend that it doesn’t hurt inside.”

별로

This means “not really.” It is used with negated verbs and adjectives. For example, 이 드레스가 별로 안 예뻐요 means “this dress isn’t that pretty.” You may also hear it used as an adjective to mean “to not be very good” or “to not like.” 이 드레스가 별로예요 means “I don’t really like this dress” or “this dress isn’t great.”

유치하다 means “childish.” 유치한 건 별료 means “I don’t like childish things” or “I don’t like being childish.”

[verb stem] + 아/어/여 버리다

This structure communicates that you did an action to completion. Depending on the context, it can have a particularly negative or positive connotation. 다 튀어 버린 진흙  literally means “the mud that has been completely splashed.”

우린 고인 물이 마른 후에 내리는 빗물 다 바꿔 놓지 이 세상의 기준 너도 모르게 흠뻑 젖지 탁한 공기 대신 맑은 공기 섭취 brrr

흙탕물 muddy muddy muddy water 흙탕물 물 흐리지 말고 멀리 꺼져 흙탕물 고인물은 가라 goin’ water

We’re the rain that falls after the stagnant water dries up / We change all of the world’s standards / You get wet without even knowing / Instead of murky air, intake clear air

Muddy water , muddy muddy muddy water / Muddy water, don’t muddy the water, get away from me / Muddy water, go, stagnant water

[verb stem] + 는

This is how you turn verbs into their noun-modifying from in the present-tense. 내리다 means “to fall” and 빗물 means “rain water.” 내리는 빗물, therefore, means “the rain water that falls.” Here, the verb, 내리다 is describing the noun, 빗물.

[verb stem] + 아/어/여 놓다

This structure communicates that you do an action now that is for the future, or will have effects on the future. An example is 음식을 많이 준비해 놓았어요, meaning “I prepared a lot of food.” This implies that the food is for future usage -- it was prepared to be eaten from the point it was made onward.

Likewise, 다 바꿔 놓지 이 세상의 기준 means “we change all of this world’s standards.” The use of 바꿔 놓다 means that they changed the standards and that they will stay that way for that point onward.

대신(에)

This means “instead.” Attach it to the noun that you would put after “instead of” in English. 탁한 공기 means “murky air,” and 맑은 공기 means “clear air.” 탁한 공기 대신 맑은 공기, therefore, means “clear air instead of murky air.”

[verb stem] + 지 말고

This structure is used to command one to do one action instead of another and is a variation of the structure -지 말다. 흙탕물 물 흐리지 말고 멀리 꺼져 means “don’t muddy the water; get away from me.”

단물 빠진 껌은 씹어 봤자 내 입만 아프니까 뱉지 랩 뱉듯이 uh 삐끗해도 행실은 반드시 자로 잰 듯이 악취를 풍기는 네게 내가 튀긴 침 페브리즈

I chew the gum that’s lost its sweet flavor / Because my mouth just hurts / I spit it out as if spitting rap / Even though my behavior is twisted, it’s like it was measured with a ruler / My smelly spit is Febreeze to you

[stem] + 아/어/여 봤자

This structure means that even if you do something or no matter how much you do something, it’s no use. 단물 빠진 껌은 씹어 봤자 내 입만 아프니까  뱉지 means “It’s no use / It doesn’t matter if I chew the gum that’s lost it’s sweet flavor -- because my mouth just hurts, I spit it out.”

This can also be translated as “even though...” or “no matter...” For example, 열심히 공부해 봤자 수학을 못해요 means “no matter how hard I study, I’m still bad at math.”

[stem] + (으)니까

This is attached to stems to mean “because [verb/adjective].” It is used when providing justification or reasoning for doing an action, having an intention, or thinking a certain way. 내 입만 아프니까 뱉지 means “I spit it out because my mouth just hurts.” His mouth hurting is the justification/reason for spitting it out. 

[verb stem] + ㄴ/은 듯(이)

This can be translated as “as if” or “like.” 뱉지 랩 뱉듯이 means “I spit it out like I spit my rap” or “I spit it out as if spitting my rap.” 자로 잰 듯이 means “as if measured with a ruler.”

Sometimes this structure has the particle -ㄴ/은 attached to the stem and sometimes it doesn’t, as shown in these lines. This video by Go! Billy says that when it does NOT have -ㄴ/은, this makes the sentence sound more metaphorical rather than literal. They’re pretty similar in general though. 

That’s about it for this breakdown, I hope you learned something! See you in the next lesson! 화이팅!

My masterlist

Join my Discord chat here to practice Korean with others!

Follow me on Instagram here for more Korean content!

Get Drops Premium using my affiliate link to expand your Korean vocab!

Check out my Hilokal to join my live Korean classes for free!

Check out my Ko-Fi to support this blog and my studies! Thank you for your generosity!

[apocalypticavolition]

Let's (re)Read the Hobbit! Chapters 13 & 14

Wow so Tears of the Kingdom sure happened. I don't know what to do with my life now that I'm no longer ridiculously obsessive, but I guess I should become literate again? It seems like I should just be 100%-ing both Switch Zeldas but... it would be nice to finish something.

In the meanwhile, the dwarves sat in darkness, and utter silence fell about them.

Am I supposed to think this isn't their natural habitat? Are they not dwarves? Isn't mining their chief activity?

But somehow, just when the dwarves were most despairing, Bilbo felt a strange lightening of the heart, as if a heavy weight had gone from under his waistcoat.

I was going to joke that this is just because Bilbo is competent and no one else is, but to be fairer to the dwarves really this has something to do with the fact that Bilbo can be invisible and thus has way better odds of surviving anything than them. I'd be despairing too, despite Bilbo's quoting his dad.

At length Mr. Baggins could bear it no longer. “Confound you, Smaug, you worm!” he squeaked aloud. “Stop playing hide-and-seek! Give me a light, and then eat me, if you can catch me!”

Past Bilbo is of course having conniptions at the thought of addressing a dragon in any way, let alone this way in particular.

As Thorin carefully explained, Mr. Baggins was still officially their expert burglar and investigator.

Y'all really should have checked his references. "Hobbit fact: All hobbits are expert burglars!" is probably something Gandalf said when he was seven cups and six bowls in.

His small hand would not close about it, for it was a large and heavy gem; but he lifted it, shut his eyes, and put it in his deepest pocket.

"Is that an Arkenstone in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?" - a small taste of the Hobbit smut fic I will never, ever write, much to humanity's relief

All the same he had an uncomfortable feeling that the picking and choosing had not really been meant to include this marvellous gem, and that trouble would yet come of it.

You can tell that the Shire is meant to be where England will end up by the confidence in which its inhabitants claim the sacred cultural artifacts of others for their own use.

“Now what on earth or under it has happened?” said Thorin. “Certainly not the dragon, or he would not go on squeaking.”

Thorin is going to be a dick to the end, I see. So many more charitable verbs my dude.

The dwarves indeed no longer needed any urging. All were now eager to explore the hall while they had the chance, and willing to believe that, for the present, Smaug was away from home.

Okay my bros but what about the immediate future? This is not the time to get all gold lusty. There's a dragon on the loose! Or at least, you think there is, and that's dangerous enough.

With that he put on Bilbo a small coat of mail, wrought for some young elf-prince long ago. It was of silver-steel, which the elves call mithril, and with it went a belt of pearls and crystals. A light helm of figured leather, strengthened beneath with hoops of steel, and studded about the brim with white gems, was set upon the hobbit’s head.

Hey, this'll be relevant later. But also, a belt of pearls and crystals? That hardly seems practical, even by elvish standards.

“I would give a good many of these precious goblets,” he thought, “for a drink of something cheering out of one of Beorn’s wooden bowls!”

Way to be blatant about your messaging, Tolkien.

“This is the great chamber of Thror,” said Thorin; “the hall of feasting and of council. Not far off now is the Front Gate.”

Seems like an odd combination. The place is great as a hall of feasting; huge and blessed with fresh air. But is it good for council? I'd prefer a more intimate setting myself.

They passed through the ruined chamber. Tables were rotting there; chairs and benches were lying there overturned, charred and decaying. Skulls and bones were upon the floor among flagons and bowls and broken drinking-horns and dust.

All joking aside, Tolkien does ruin beautifully, doesn't he?

“How far is that?” asked the hobbit. “Five hours march, I should think.”

Not to sound too much like a hobbit, but if you're not getting to eat until afternoon, it's hardly breakfast is it? Not that this is Balin's fault; you really can't be too careful about your choice of eatery when a dragon's on the loose.

“That won’t be till Smaug’s dead,” said Bilbo glumly. “In the meanwhile where is he? I would give a good breakfast to know. I hope he is not up on the Mountain looking down at us!”

If GRRM wrote this book, this is exactly when they'd be immolated by Smaug, directly above them. Luckily, the real dramatic irony is that Smaug is already dead!

If you want to know what cram is, I can only say that I don’t know the recipe; but it is biscuitish, keeps good indefinitely, is supposed to be sustaining, and is certainly not entertaining, being in fact very uninteresting except as a chewing exercise.

For those of you who read this description and think, "Finally, something more bland than pilot bread for my easily overstimulated taste buds!", check out Feast of Starlight's recipe which can be found on most major search engines.

...really, you insist on being linked? Very well. Here you go.

In all their talk they came perpetually back to one thing: where was Smaug? They looked West and there was nothing, and East there was nothing, and in the South there was no sign of the dragon, but there was a gathering of very many birds.

Obviously he clipped through the ground and is now flying through the infinite void. Keep up boys. But anyway, they have no idea and set out and we cut to another chapter, stepping back in time a little.

“Perhaps the King under the Mountain is forging gold,” said another. “It is long since he went North. It is time the songs began to prove themselves again.”

This seems remarkably optimistic, but I suppose spending generations under the shadow of a dragon and having almost nothing bad happen ever makes one numb to the threats.

“You are always foreboding gloomy things!” said the others. “Anything from floods to poisoned fish. Think of something cheerful!”

This is too real and I now hope that all these Laketown idiots die like the climate change deniers they are. Sadly, it's not to be.

Every vessel in the town was filled with water, every warrior was armed, every arrow and dart was ready, and the bridge to the land was thrown down and destroyed, before the roar of Smaug’s terrible approach grew loud, and the lake rippled red as fire beneath the awful beating of his wings.

Of all the things that gets ripped off from the Legendarium, why not more Laketowns? Beautifully scenic, defensive, and easily fireproof one way or another. Dear fantasy writers, please steal Laketown more often.

No fireworks you ever imagined equalled the sights that night.

I dunno, this one New Year's Eve the university accidentally set off all of its fireworks at once and it was the most spectacular five minute performance of fireworks I ever saw.

Fire leaped from thatched roofs and wooden beam-ends as he hurtled down and past and round again, though all had been drenched with water before he came. Once more water was flung by a hundred hands wherever a spark appeared. Back swirled the dragon. A sweep of his tail and the roof of the Great House crumbled and smashed down. Flames unquenchable sprang high into the night. Another swoop and another, and another house and then another sprang afire and fell; and still no arrow hindered Smaug or hurt him more than a fly from the marshes.

Good, everyone except Bard deserves this.

He was a descendant in long line of Girion, Lord of Dale, whose wife and child had escaped down the Running River from the ruin long ago.

You know, this info might have been better placed in the chapter where the dwarves were in Laketown instead of this guy only being introduced properly now. It's kinda outta nowhere.

The black arrow sped straight from the string, straight for the hollow by the left breast where the foreleg was flung wide. In it smote and vanished, barb, shaft and feather, so fierce was its flight. With a shriek that deafened men, felled trees and split stone, Smaug shot spouting into the air, turned over and crashed down from on high in ruin.

RIP Smaug. You deserved better than to go out like a Legend of Zelda boss to a DMPC, but it was not to be. Hopefully some other dragons in the Legendarium did some damage.

But they had really much to be thankful for, had they thought of it, though it could hardly be expected that they should just then: three quarters of the people of the town had at least escaped alive; their woods and fields and pastures and cattle and most of their boats remained undamaged; and the dragon was dead.

It takes surviving a special kind of war to go, "Yeah only 1 in every 4 people you ever knew are dead, that's a lot to be thankful for." I for one, will be grateful that my wish came one quarter true.

“In the Lake-town we have always elected masters from among the old and wise, and have not endured the rule of mere fighting men.

I mean I'm all for forcibly retiring the elderly as much as the next person who's spent their whole lives struggling under the Boomer Gerontocracy, but I can't really get behind the whole "Fuck elections" thing.

That said the Master is totally asking for his being deposed.

Who obtained of us rich gifts and ample help, and led us to believe that old songs could come true? Who played on our soft hearts and our pleasant fancies? What sort of gold have they sent down the river to reward us? Dragon-fire and ruin!

He's not even wrong, which is impressive.

Then even as he was speaking, the thought came into his heart of the fabled treasure of the Mountain lying without guard or owner, and he fell suddenly silent.

Did Sauron make the Arkenstone? I mean damn it's got more of a pull than the titular dude's soon-to-be titular jewelry.

Many took ill of wet and cold and sorrow that night, and afterwards died, who had escaped uninjured from the ruin of the town; and in the days that followed there was much sickness and great hunger.

One wonders what percentage of the town dropped dead this time. It sounds like quite a large number. Not so much to be thankful for, is it? Unless you're me. Maybe another quarter died! Wish half true!

Even before the Elvenking rode forth the news had passed west right to the pinewoods of the Misty Mountains; Beorn had heard it in his wooden house, and the goblins were at council in their caves.

It's a Mirkwood Wide Web! Convenient for drama, but also cool in its esoteric nature.

...he was the lord of a good and kindly people...

Was he? The last we saw, they spent ages tormenting the dwarves and Bilbo with magic feasts and whatnot. Seems to me that they're helping out for fear that if Laketown doesn't recover their booze imports could be interrupted more than any particular kindness.

It was thus that in eleven days from the ruin of the town the head of their host passed the rock-gates at the end of the lake and came into the desolate lands.

And that's two more chapters! As we're now some ways ahead of Bilbo and crew, the question remains: how many breakfasts has Bilbo missed since we last saw him? We'll find out next time. Thank goodness I'm not into Diablo or this reread would really take awhile.

[daintyduck99]

Aaaaah too many good prompts!!

"none of what you said made any sense, i can't believe they have you this flustered." for rulie? because honestly I could see that being either of them.

Reggie is so screwed.

Hell, he only knows about the quiz because Kayla tipped him off, and he doesn't need to flip through his notes to know that they're basically useless, obscured by doodles of a curly-haired angel with a gap-toothed grin. He racks his brain, but he can't remember what they've been covering. Some new kind of verb?

He only remembers the way Julie's fingers had brushed against his when she handed him his pencil, the soft glow of her eyes in the afternoon sun and the violent case of butterflies she'd set off in his stomach.

Reggie groans at his lunch.

"I'm gonna fail Spanish."

Luke pats his cheek. "That's ironic, buddy."

"What—why are you misquoting Avatar The Last Airbender at me?"

Bobby snorts as he peels his orange, glancing at Reggie with a quirked eyebrow.

"Maybe because the girl you're half in love with is effortlessly fluent. Just a thought."

He blushes, letting out an undignified little noise that some might call a squeak.

"I'm not in love with her!"

"Not yet," Alex says with a shrug, "but she's also the reason you can't focus. You have to admit that it's pretty ironic, Reg."

Luke claps his shoulder before Reggie can protest any further, smirking heavily.

"Don't look now, bro. She's coming."

"What?!"

He whips his head around, cursing himself when they make eye contact. Of course he chose to look the one time Luke wasn't bluffing. She simply smiles and waves, increasing her pace ever so slightly.

He's still trying to decide if it would be weird to turn back around or not when she's standing right in front of him, hugging some notebooks to her chest and looking downright radiant in her yellow dress. There's a matching ribbon that's been braided into her hair, and her smile only serves to soften her impossibly warm eyes. She literally seems heaven sent.

He gapes at her like an idiot as she shines on him expectantly, and Luke thumps him on the back. He clears his throat.

"Sorry, um. What was that?"

Julie giggles. "I asked you if you were ready for Spanish. I heard that Mrs. Cutright is springing a quiz on us."

"Yeah—I mean, no—um—necessitas—shit—necess—ito—usar—uh—"

She rescues him with a shake of her head and a sweet smile as she gently says, "Necessitas mis notas?"

"Yes!" He angles his body to look at her better, nodding rapidly. "Si, no se—shit—se no hago—fuck it—you're an actual angel, I owe you—my firstborn, whatever you want."

She smiles at the ground and slowly looks at him again, peeking through her lashes.

His heart is bound to burst.

"Gracias, Reggie. Pero empecemos con una cita. Noes niños. Bueno?"

He nods dumbly again even though he has no idea what she just said beyond his name. His stomach flutters at the way her tongue had curled around the letters. He wishes he could say her name half as prettily, but if he could he probably wouldn't be worried about failing.

She laughs again, bright as bells, and offers him one of her notebooks. Their fingers meet, effectively gluing his tongue to the roof of his mouth, but she's unbothered, tossing out what he's mostly certain is a cheerful goodbye before she starts to walk away.

"Me llames!" she calls over her shoulder, then she disappears into the throng of students, leaving him clutching her notebook and what little sanity he still has.

Bobby's the first to break the silence.

"Wow. None of what you said made any sense. I can't believe they have you this flustered. You've known her since we were what, seven? Eight?"

"I always get this flustered!" Reggie defends. "Resident disaster bi, remember?"

Luke hums, swiping a fry from Reggie’s tray. "He has a point, B. I'm sure the whole half in love with her thing only makes it worse, though. Or the boner for romantic languages. Actually, now that I think about it, he was doomed from the start."

Reggie squawks. "I do not have—"

Luke cups his face and locks eyes with him, crooning quietly in French.

Fuck.

Thankfully, Luke has mercy on him and releases him without any more teasing, letting him shove his tray away and press his face into the cool metal of the table.

"Yeah, speaking of which, do you have any idea what Julie said to you, Reg?" Alex asks. "Because if she always talks to you like that, no wonder you're such a wreck."

Luke agrees. "She was definitely flirting with him. I only told him my omelet order."

Fuck!

Reggie lifts his head to look at Alex.

"What did she say to me?"

"Okay, well, you definitely said something about how you were going to give her a child in one way or another—after butchering some basic Spanish—and she was teasing you, saying you should start with a date."

Reggie groans, but Alex keeps talking.

"I mean, she also told you to call her. So I think you're fine. She's obviously into your whole disaster bi thing."

Oh. Oh!

"Maybe just look at her notes before it fails you," Bobby adds, effectively bringing him crashing back down from cloud nine.

That's okay, though. He scrapes by.

He's much more fluent by the time that first baby arrives.

[combatfaerie]

Ficlet: Subscription

Title: Subscription

Word count: 979

Rating: Teen (nothing explicit, but.. well, it's about dick pics)

Characters: Becky Lynch & Dean Ambrose (minor appearances by Seth Rollins and Triple H)

Prompt 04: Asking permission to send a dick pic.

Tagged: @wrestleprompts

"Hey Becks? Got a minute?"

Becky turns to see Dean walking up to her, tapping his phone against his thigh. Jon, she reminds herself. He isn't renewing his contract with WWE and he'll be gone in a matter of weeks, so she'll have to get used to using his real name again. "Hey. What's up?" She does her best not to glance at the closed office where Seth is meeting with Hunter. By now pretty much everyone backstage knows she and Seth are dating, but some opinions matter more to her than others, and Dean's is one of them. Roman seems delighted that his youngest Shield brother is in love again, but she can't quite figure out Dean's take on the relationship.

When he starts glancing around, Becky's heart sinks a bit. Dean is twitchy by nature, but he looks like he's making sure no one else is in earshot. "Got a question for you," he says at last, hopping up on the nearest equipment trunk and patting the spot beside him, staring at her until she joins him.

"Okay. Shoot." She's never been one of those girls who doesn't want to go anywhere without her boyfriend, but she can't help wishing Seth's meeting would finish up quickly.

"You cool if I keep sending Seth dick pics?"

There's enough to unpack there that Becky feels like her brain has gone on a whirlwind world tour. Her mouth opens and closes over and over, but the only word she can manage to squeak out is "What?"

Dean taps the back of his phone. "Are you cool if I keep sending Seth dick pics?" Apparently the addition of a formal verb is supposed to make the question clearer.

"Keep sending?" Becky echoes, still trying to find some sensible footing in this surreal conversation. "You mean you've been sending him dick pics already?"

To her surprise, Dean doesn't look surprised at all. "Yeah. Of course. It's a whole thing. You know, like those flip animation books...."

That unleashes a torrent of images in Becky's head that she really doesn't want to be contemplating, especially since she's next in line to talk to Hunter. "That's really up to Seth, isn't it?" she hedges. A strange sense of relief relaxes her shoulders. The reaction to their relationship has been so positive overall that she's just been waiting for someone to try tearing them down and if it had been Dean, she's not sure if she would have had the heart to tell Seth. It's hard enough knowing that his Shield brother is going to be leaving the company; if Dean disapproved of their relationship—or just her—it could drive a wedge between them that had nothing to do with distance. "I mean, it's his phone and—"

But Dean waves away her concerns like stale smoke. "Nah. I know he's good with it. I just want to make sure you are. I mean, you two are probably going to be married before my birthday at the rate you're going, so I want to keep everything cool, you know? Galina was okay with it for a while, but now with the kids...."

It's another rollercoaster ride for Becky's heart, but at least this loop sends her soaring. Dean's birthday is in December—she's too flustered to remember the exact day—so if he thinks they'll be married by then, clearly he thinks they have staying power. Or that we're stupid, Becky thinks. To Dean, though, those probably aren't mutually exclusive. "Oh. Okay. Well, I mean, if it's cool with him, I'm fine with it."

"Good." Dean is still speaking as he flips over his phone, taps an app icon, and pecks out a few words before hitting the send button.

It's quiet enough backstage that Becky hears the notification tone from Seth's phone and the low rumble of his voice. Even if there was the bustle of a live event, though, she would have been able to hear the sharp sudden curse. "I didn't think you meant right now," Becky hisses. "He's in a meeting with Hunter!"

"Oh." Dean hops down to his feet and quickly shoves his phone in his back pocket. "Well, not like Trips hasn't seen it too. If he wants a subscription, he can ask." Then he plants a sloppy kiss on the top of Becky's head and saunters off. "You're good for him, Lynch!" he hollers back. "Don't let him screw this up!"

"DEAN!" The exclamation bursts out of the office before Seth does, eyes wide. When he notices Becky, he takes a deep breath. "I thought I heard Dean. That bastard—"

"Leave it, Seth." Hunter's beleaguered fatherly tone may sound weary, but Becky knows the power behind it all too well. "Let's finish up here and then you can go yell at him."

Becky manages to shoot Seth an apologetic look before he goes back in the office, but it still feels like an eternity before the door opens again. "Not your fault," he says quickly, coming over to give Becky a kiss. "I want to talk to him before we leave, though, so...."

"Go ahead. I'll let you know when I'm done with Hunter." She takes her time closing the office door behind her, though, and she's not quite sure how to read Hunter's expression. "Sorry about that—"

Hunter shakes his head. "Was it your dick?" The question is almost absurd as Dean's had been. "No. Then you have nothing to apologize for." He clears his throat and loosens his tie, clearly eager to get the last of the evening's work done. "Let's talk about some scenarios for Money in the Bank...."

"Sounds good."

And then Becky's phone dings, and she sets it on Hunter's desk very carefully, face down. Whatever it is, she doesn't want to know. She's had enough surprises for one day.

[casspurrjoybell-33]

Taming Arrogance - Chapter 22

*Warning Adult Content*

The walk to Blake's office seems to stretch on longer than usual.

Kansas eyes me when I pass the register, her curious gaze probing me as I try to cover my trail.

I hide behind aisle four and fiddle with a few items on the shelves.

A customer looking at bug spray notices me and smiles.

He's an older gentleman, reminding me of the guy who asked me to carry lumber to his truck a while back.

That was the day I met Blake, if I remember correctly, ow time flies.

I give the man a friendly nod and peek my head around the aisle to check on Kansas.

She's scanning items through her register, completely absorbed with her new customer.

Perfect... I take the opportunity and walk with purposeful strides to Blake's office.

His door is ajar, the small inch of space just waiting for me to enter.

Yesterday if I was at his door I would have knocked, now I just walk inside.

Blake glances up from his desk, his gaze unreadable.

The warmth in his cheeks and the softness of his features have faded since being in the break room.

Is he having second thoughts in a matter of minutes?

He waves me into his office.

Without being asked, I close the door behind me.

I try to tell myself I'm doing it to be a good employee and not because I hope something will happen between us but my dick knows better.

"You still want to go over that file?" I ask, waving the empty file folder in the air.

"Please, sit," Blake instructs.

I slide into the chair closest to his desk, resting the empty folder on the seat next to me.

Blake swivels in his high-backed chair, back and forth, back and forth.

There is a small squeak that comes from the movement and I make a mental note to reach out to building services to fix it.

Blake lifts a stack of paper from his desk and looks them over, picking up conversation in a professional clip.

"As I was saying, we got the approval to build in Florida. The next step is to push out my design and have the construction crew begin immediately. Needless to say, I will be heading down to Miami again to make sure start-up runs smoothly."

My mouth flounders open and then smacks closed. Is he joking?

My heart sinks when realization comes to surface.

Blake doesn't want me anymore.

If he did, my confession wouldn't be going ignored.

He would have greeted me with welcome arms to show me just how happy he was that I let go of my pride.

That's not what's happening at all, though, not even close.

My hands ball into angry fists.

I shouldn't have waited so fuckin' long to tell him how I feel.

"In my absence, I had planned on leaving the store in your capable hands. I knew you'd see to it that things would run as efficiently as possible," Blake continues.

I pick-up on his verb tense and lean back in my chair.

He's talking in past tense.

He had planned on allowing me to run the store.

Which means he doesn't want me to anymore?

He made a comment my hair had gotten longer when we were in the break room.

Does he think I look too sloppy to run his precious store?

"I would," I interject, my defenses gearing up to argue.

"Run the store well, I mean. I know just as much about this place as you do."

Blake raises a brow and I push forward, not wanting to lose any ground with my stance.

"Plus, I know the town. The people like me here. Just because I don't have some fancy ass degree or a wardrobe that could sell for enough to feed a small country doesn't mean I'm any less capable than you."

"All true," Blake answers with an amused grin.

"And your services with this company are very valued."

The double meaning of his words, whether they're intended or not, turn my cheeks crimson.

"But I wasn't implying that I would be passing off the task to someone else because you weren't capable," Blake explains.

"And you are more than welcome to stay here and run the store should you choose," his voice trails off.

The top document in his stack of papers is removed and handed to me.. another contract?

I skim over the verbiage, noting the similarities from the first one I signed when I agreed to take this position.

My eyes catch on the phrases 'own consent' and 'complete anonymity'.

"What is this all about, Blake?"

Blake grabs for his cufflink and adjusts is and then his voice lowers and there is a wisp of vulnerability in his tone.

"Did you mean what you said? In the break room?"

I own up to my emotions and look Blake square in the eye.

I don't have to pause and think about it.

It was my opportunity and I took it.

If Blake doesn't want me anymore... fine but I am a prideful man by nature.

Admitting I want him was hard enough.

Taking it back simply because he doesn't share the same opinion of me is the coward's way out.

Blake glances down at his paperwork and nods.

"Alright then. That is what this is about."

I stare at him without a response.

Where the hell is he going with this?

"Callum, you are more help than you realize, professionally speaking. When we were in Florida the first time, despite your minor temper tantrums, you proved to be the most useful and helpful assistant I've ever had."

"Administrative Specialist," I correct sassily.

Blake smirks and rolls his eyes.

"Right. In either case, I wanted to invite you to Florida with me again. To help me with the start-up of the new store."

My ego gives my mind a chest bump.

"To be honest, I've been thinking about how to invite you for weeks."

"Why haven't you?"

Blake looks at me and I swallow from being under the intensity of his gaze.

"I figured keeping you here, keeping us apart, would probably be the safer route."

"Oh..."

"But after that little confession from you in the break room, my mind was easily swayed. So with that said, would you like to come with me to Florida again?"

I nod once and then twice.

"Yes."

Blake stifles a grin and nods to the contract in my hand.

"I drew that up, in the event you agreed to go. It's a contract stating that if anything should happen between us, physically or romantically, you are doing so of your own consent. Additionally, anything that should happen between us must remain private. I'm sure you can understand why I prefer to keep my private life separate from work."

I glare at the piece of paper, is this guy fuckin' kidding?

I have to sign a piece of paper just to be able to kiss him again?

I'd bet my last three paychecks fag-tard Phil didn't have to do this.

'Yes but Phil never worked with him. Remember, he's your boss.'

My jaw clenches at the mental reminder.

Touché, Mental Callum. Touché.

Okay, so maybe he's doing this to protect himself.

I mean, the dude has to be worth more than I can imagine, millions and despite how hot he is.

I'm sure there are plenty of leeches out there who would work with him just to get under him, squeezing every last penny they could from a sexual harassment lawsuit or some bullshit like that.

'I get it... I do... It still doesn't keep me from being offended though.'

"And what if I don't sign it?" I ask, my irritation taking over the reins. Blake scowls, disappointment falling onto his face.

"Then I will once again appoint you to taking over at this store during my absence."

I laugh humorlessly.

"So what you're saying is if I don't agree to letting you touch me, I lose the opportunity of opening a new store and furthering my career?"

Blake stiffens and narrows his eyes on me.

My snappy attitude is putting him on edge.

Despite my genuine irritation for the discussion at hand, having us go toe-to-toe again has my skin tingling with possibility... I've missed it.

Blake slams a fist on his desk.

"Why are you always so damn difficult?"

I jump in my seat, surprised at the anger in his voice.

"I'm not being difficult," I counter.

"It was just a question."

"One you already know the answer to."

This time it's me glaring at him.

"I don't have a clue, actually. Try me."

Blake stands from his chair.

He seems even taller for some reason.

My eyes travel down his torso.

Then they land on his waist, more specifically on the erection pressing against his matching dress pants.

Blake nods down at it and puts his hand on his narrow hips.

"This is why."

I swallow again, trying to adjust my position to hide my excitement.

Blake shakes his head and looks up at the ceiling.

"I can't be around you for more than five fucking minutes without this happening, Callum. I can't, I can't control myself when I'm around you."

'And there it is, Blake's pride, his confession.'

I grab for the pen on his desk without thinking.

I slide the cap off and sign the contract while it rests on my knee, not wanting to ruin the moment by asking any other questions.

My signature is shaky and I date it for good measure, then I set it on his desk.

Blake watches my movements and his eyes pool with desire, with gratitude.

"When do we leave for Florida?" I ask, trying to hide the lust in my voice.

"Tomorrow."

My boss's eyes raise to meet my gaze once again and it takes all the strength I have not to throw myself at him.

"Was that all, then?" I ask, pretending to still care about the mounds of work on his desk.

"One more thing."

"What's that?"

Blake glances at the door to make sure it's closed, his tongue slides along his bottom lip and he walks around his desk with measured steps.

The hunger in his gaze makes my stomach quiver.

He holds out his hand, urging me to stand with him, my breathing picks up speed when my fingers intertwine with his.

He backs us up one step, then two, until my back is pressed against the wall.

His free hand moves under my jaw, tilting my face up with the pad of his thumb and then his voice lowers to a whisper.

"Kiss me."

[the-hem]

"Quicksilver." From 1 Samuel 30. Part 1.

The term ziklag means "a pint of liquid metal." As to what this probably is, I'll let you fantasize, whereas the spiritual-esoteric meaning comes from the shapelessness of a man's future once he achieves the Third Day, freedom from all delusions about violence and its causes.

As far as its role in the Kingdom of David, which means "advancing the cause of beauty" we obtain purchase with a sublime meaning hidden in the underpants of the Torah. The Gematria for ziklag is 547, hadzah, AKA huzzah! or "woo hoo!" in English, which is the precise opposite of the word for stress:

30 When David and his men reached Ziklag three days later, they discovered that the Amalekites had raided the desert hill country. They had attacked Ziklag in David’s absence, burned it,

 2 and carried away the women and all the other inhabitants whom David had left behind. None of them were killed, but they were taken captive and carried back toward Amalek.

3 So David and his men arrived in the burned city and found their wives, daughters, and sons gone, taken captive by the Amalekite raiders. 

4 And when they saw this, they cried out and wept aloud until they could weep no more. 

5 David’s wives, Ahinoam of Jezreel and Abigail, the widow of Nabal of Carmel, were among those carried off.

The Amelakites, "the talkers" plagued Israel many times during its upbringing. No matter the effort the temple and the universities put into creating a non-violent, sentient, intelligent human race, some loudmouth, a leftover from our savage species days will be sure to come along and suggest some ridiculous costume we should all wear instead. This phenomenon, which fails to recognize humanity has not quite grasped how to be fully content yet, but it could and it should has to be addressed.

We are creating a race of reactively unattached, atypically developed monster men that want to read religious books, overwhelm civil society and turn the world into a hell on earth. The Torah and the Bhagavad Gita, even Christ said to put these people to the sword and move on.

It all begins when ziklag is attacked by talkers. God doesn't care what you do with your squirt gun, not in private, not if the boy or man or girl is of age, and has been properly educated.

The sin of Onan was not squeaking the grease, it was prejudice. Onan was told to interbreed with persons of other races and he said no and dumped his puddle on the ground and that was not what he was told to do.

Otherwise, all we are told is to do is wait till we are of age and are able to withstand the responsibilities associated with touching another person in their intimate locations.

David was no stranger to this- he seduced the Queen Prince of Israel, Jonathan and shagged his way into power, and the greatest romance of all time kickstarted the greatest Kingdom of all time, just like that.

David's future plans, his wives, suffered when his ziklag came under fire by the gossipers:

David’s wives were Ahinoam of Jezreel and Abigail, the widow of Nabal of Carmel:

Ahinoam=My Brother Is Delight, Kindred To Sweetness

Jezreel= God sows

The verb זרע (zara') means to scatter seed or to sow but may even describe merely extending one's arm or even a leg and ultimately signify the bearing of fruit or even children (hence referred to as one's seed).

Nouns זרע (zera') and זרוע (zerua') mean a sowing or that which is sown, and may refer to: seed, sperm, one child, offspring, posterity, family or a whole community. Nouns זרע (zeroa') and זרען (zer'on) specifically denote vegetables. And noun מזרע (mizra') literally means a place or agent of sowing.

Nouns זרוע (zeroa') or זרע (zeroa') or אזרוע ('ezroa') mean arm but are mostly used to figuratively to denote the seat of strength of a person or a nation or even of God.

Noun זרה (zara) also means to scatter but where זרע (zara') scatters seed to bear fruit, זרה (zara) scatters chaff and debris. It means to winnow. Noun מזרה (mizreh), describes place or agent of scattering, which in this case denotes a winnowing fork.

Abigail= to celebrate

The verb גלל (galal) primarily expresses rolling, whirling or heaping and may also denote a broad sweep (of land or time). Noun גל (gal) means heap or pile; גיל (gel), a heap specifically of dung; גלל (galal), dung; גלול (gillul), idols. Noun גלה (gulla) means bowl, basin or spring; noun גלילה (gelila), circuit, boundary or territory. Noun גליל (galil) denotes a supporting cylinder or rod; adjective גליל (galil), probably describes a cylindrical hinge column, noun מגלה (megilla) means scroll.

Noun גלגל (gilgal) means wheel; noun גלגל (galgal), wheel or whirlwind. Noun גלגלת (gulgoleth) means skull or head. In cognate languages verb גלל (galal) extends to also describe the nobility of someone who rules a region.

The parallel verb גיל (gil) expresses a circular motion as is mostly associated with expressions of joy and celebration (dance). Nouns גיל (gil) and גילה (gila) mean a rejoicing. Noun גיל (gil) describes a circle or time: an age.

Nabal of Carmel=

The denominative verb נבא (naba'), meaning to prophesy (1 Samuel 10:11, Amos 2:12, Jeremiah 2:8). This verb appears to be derived from the previous noun. Various experts list all sorts of possible origins of the concept of prophesying, but the basic idea seems to be a vicarious pronunciation of some kind of message.

The noun כרם (kerem) means vineyard. It occurs in many Semitic languages but its ultimate origin is unclear. Vineyards are mentioned over ninety times in the Old Testament, and in poetical and metaphorical passages the vineyard is a dominant symbol that commonly denotes the whole of mankind's culture. The derived noun כרמל (karmel) means plantation. An obviously related word is יין (yayan), meaning wine.

6 David, too, was in anguish. Some of his men talked about stoning him because they were so bitter about their families being taken. But David took comfort in the Eternal One, his True God.

7 He called for the priest, Abiathar, son of Ahimelech, and instructed him to bring the priestly vest, which he did.

David (to the Lord): 

8 Should we pursue these raiders? Can we catch them?

Eternal One: Go after them. You will catch them, and you will certainly rescue your families.

Raiders are the little things people do to oppress the powerless, children in particular. To oppress little kids, to attempt to impress widely accepted but totally inaccurate ideas about sex, gender, masturbation, and intercourse is positively ruinous to them and to the adults that do it.

Humanity, as the Tanakh states, has endured quite a lot of unnecessary trouble, we could give it a rest and let people handle their pee pee just fine on the basis of their own jurisprudence:

Abiathar son of Ahimelech=

The verb יתר (yatar) means to remain or to be a rest (a remainder). It may emphasize the survival of some carnage (being the last ones left), but it may also emphasize surplus (rest money after all bills are paid). Noun יתר (yeter) means remnant; יתרה (yitra) means abundance; יותר (yoter) means superiority; יתרון (yitron) means excellence.

The nouns יתר (yeter) and מיתר (metar) describe cords to tie things together with. This indicates that a remnant is not simply that what remains, but rather that which kept the original collective together in the first place.

The noun אח ('ah) means brother, or more broadly: a fellow member of a social economic node (a "house") within a broader economic whole.

The noun מלך (melek) means king, and a king is not merely a glorified tribal chief but the alpha of a complex, stratified society, implying a court and a complex government.

The Bible insists that a society must be governed by a triad of anointed sovereigns, namely prophets, priests and the king. A good king causes his people to be prosperous and peaceful whereas a bad one causes poverty and strife.

The difference between the two is dictated by how close to the Law of Nature (a.k.a. the Word of God) the king operates. A kingdom that is wholly in tune with the Law consists of only sovereign individuals and is thus without a physical king.

The Gematria for this section, found in verse 7-8 is 9959, טטהט, thutt, from ash-tut, meaning "thought":

The written Torah doesn’t start with that world. The Torah begins with a beit—the second letter of the Hebrew alphabet. It starts at the second part of the story. But at first there was a world that just emanated out of thought—and never left that place.

The second part of the story is when all those thoughts descended to become a concrete world. A place that seems separate from its Creator, outside of its source. Like speech: Your words travel outside of you and become part of someone else.

That’s the world we live in for six days. A world that pretends to have no source. We try to push it around a little, it pushes us around a lot, and we both pretend that this is a real and autonomous world. That there is a world, and there is us, and we are all separate things.

But then, on the seventh day, the Creator let into this world a taste of that higher plane of the “World of Thought.” We tune into it by no longer pushing anything around—or letting anything else push us around. 

The moment a boy can ejaculate is the moment his sentience truly begins. It is treated with incredible importance by the Torah. This is the moment the intense feelings that drive life onward and a capable frontal lobe in the brain begin to work together to formulate the meaning of life. It is an amazing opportunity God gave us. It means everything to the future of humanity to treat it with respect. And we are so very cruel about it, all of the time, to everyone we know.

This story shall continue.

[marigold1010]

pavlov’s puppyboy who starts salivating when he hears the telltale churn of a grinder

[lolita-lollipop]

I just had an idea! So think about this we still are in zoom for classes and Aizawa is just teaching his class? And then we come in saying like dad or other things trying to get his attention or help how would us react ??  would they go Yandere?

YANDERE CLASS 1A X READER X YANDERE PARENTS ERASERMIC

The coronavirus had changed many things in the average lives of the 1A students, like the new restrictions on going off-school perimeters, the mask-wearing in public classes, and most drastically, the zoom classes from inside their dorm rooms. The only class that was allowed outside their hero class, and even that was done privately one on one. These kids spent alllllll day locked up in their rooms, it was suitable for more introverted students like Yokoyama or Jiro immensely enjoyed it, they didn’t have to speak to many, and the schoolwork was so much faster. But extroverted students, like Kirishima or mina, or maybe even bakugo, loathed it.

The only human interaction they got was with teachers, or with students through a screen. Bakugo spent all day blasting music, screaming at anyone who knocked on his door, mina was exceptionally irritable, and Kirishima pretty much spent all day watching Spanish soap operas. Not to mention the fourteen other students practically dying in their dorms. They all desperately needed something to cheer them up.

Then they all saw you.

It was small, just a peek. It was around the end of the school day, English with present mic. Or in other words, the worst class of the day. They’d all been crammed onto a zoom call with the oh-so-bubbly blonde, half asleep, longing to go outside and save some child from a pile of burning rubble. Or even get attacked by the LOV! anything- literally anything other than listening to this man ramble on about conjugations and verbs. Bakugo was screaming with his mic muted, Deku was legitimately watching the green paint on his wall dry, and Mina was learning a dance from thirty years ago. Everything was so dull.

Then. You came along.

“To conjugate a word in English you have to first take the subject and place it behind the action, then you-“ Mic rambled on, clicking through a PowerPoint to teach these poor kids English. He was cut off not long after, the door behind him creaking open with a looonnnnggg squeak, mic stopped speaking, expecting it to be his other husband getting home from work. The mic was in quarantine at the moment, working from home, bored. After the loud creak, I showed you, dressed in a pink pajama ensemble, hair pulled back into two low pigtails, a tired look on your face even though it was 3:00 in the afternoon. Probably the aftereffect of the “special tea” you’ve been drinking, the second they all saw you. They. Fell. In. Love.

“Papa? I can’t find my cat- have you seen her?” You peeped out, clearly not recognizing the zoom call, mic whipped his head around at your voice, immediately muting his microphone. All of the students could see how mics face brightened up, how he smiled at you as he spoke a few words. Pointing to the small cat in the corner of the room. Immediately the tiny girl picked it up, turning around to say goodbye to Mic. The class was mesmerized by that far-away look in your eyes. Then you saw the screen and realized what you had done, your face went pale, and your eyes widened. Immediately you ran out of the room and closed the door. Mic let out a chuckle and unmuted, just to be bombarded with questions.

“Who was that?”

“Why is there a girl in your room Mr mic?”

“Is that your daughter?”

“Does she go to ua?”

The smile completely wiped off of his face, realizing what his entire class of students just saw. The girl who went missing not long ago. They all now had witnessed her in person. Oh god oh god oh god. It’s fine, not the end of the world, he can play this off, this call isn’t being filmed, this is just a coincidence, you just happened to be there. No one will know.

“Yes yes that’s just my daughter, I told her not To come in here, sorry for the interruption class, now let’s get back to-“

“What’s her name? How old is she? Does she go to u.a?” Izuku quickly mumbled, taking out his notebook. He had to know who this girl was, she was just- just so amazing. Was this a quirk? This has to be a quirk right? He just asked the questions everyone was thinking about, an obsession clouded every single student's brain at that moment.

“A-ah- invested aren’t we? Her name is y/n, and she’s homeschooled so no. Now back to learning the English literature, because we are in English class”

“Wait but-“ Izuku attempted to continue questioning, but Mic clicked the mute button on all his students. That’s one plus of this miserable pandemic, whenever you don’t want to hear someone, you can just turn them off. that’s enough about you, let’s hope that all the students forget about it, forget about you. Goddamn. So much for letting you walk around without quirk canceling cuffs, your quirk is… special. It makes a sense of protection for anyone who lays eyes on you, makes everyone feel the need to keep you safe. It always works against you though, that’s why your “parents” pulled you out of school. They’ll forget about it. They will.

…

Flashback: they didn’t

days passed by and every single class that Aizawa held with his students, along with Mic, was filled with questions about the young girl they saw in the camera a single time. some students were subtle, and some were not, some would just ask if he had any other children and mix the topic of you in, and some would outright ask to see you (aka our spiky-haired friend bakugo). It worried both of your parents, not only did a large group of hormonally influenced teenagers not only know of your existence, but your quirk has taken over their minds. it was like a parasite.

So, the two would hope for the best and shut down the students every time they asked about you, instead assigning homework to anyone who asked. It wasn't long before they started doing research on you, looking to find you on any platform, every social media app. any google searches, nothing.

it was like nobody knew that the two well-known pro heroes had a daughter, which was quite odd, considering the paparazzi follows them everywhere. While a few of the students gave up hope of finding who you were at least, others took to... less legal ways of research, paying off anyone who would be up to searching the deepest darkest crevices of the web.

Until one night, a month or two after catching glimpse of you, Izuku Midoria was sent the results from his barely legal endeavor. he read through the pages with wide eyes, you would be surprised what someone can do from a computer. Pages upon Pages of info on a screenshot he had taken of this mysterious girl. He didn't understand what it was about her that enthralled him as it did, but oh boy was he caught in this trap.

something that caught his eye though was a specific photo of a newspaper article reading:

"MISSING

reported October 7th 2018

11 year old female missing after going on a walk with her dog (golden retriever), dog was found, child was not. Bearing h/c hair, s/c skin, e/c eyes, and around 5'2 in height. wearing a blue striped sweater and jean shorts, hair tied in short ponytail.

Any information found by civilians should be reported to nearest hero agency, or police organizations"

It was you, it had to be, it was your description exactly, and a photo of you, just younger than what you looked like on camera. this little girl in the newspaper, aged four years, yup, it was you. But why was a missing little girl in his homeroom teacher's house? So, he sent it to Ochoco, and asked for her thoughts, who then sent in to mina and tsuyu and momo, and by the end of the day the information was out for the public of class 1-a to see.

Then a groupchat was made, and theories were shared. Of course, they couldn't go to the police about this, because they would be accusing some of the top heroes of a serious felony, and no one would believe them, but they couldn't just do nothing. After all, you just seemed so helpless, so small, like you didn't know how to protect yourself like you needed them to protect you. And they would.

Bakugo proposed just finding where they live and "storming the fuckin house" to find you, but many objected, they would be fighting top heroes, and their teachers at that, teachers that know how each and every one of these students fight. Maybe they could try to talk to you if you just so happen to show up in the background again? but what is the chance of that happening?

Then The person who started all of this conversation, deku, made the best and most effective proposition.

blackmail.

It was a simple plan, one that no one could mess up, that could guarantee results. They wanted to see you, not for a few seconds, not just a glimpse, no, they all wanted to look at you for hours. so that's what they would get. Each student sent the information on you, the missing child posters, the newspaper articles on the mysterious disappearance, everything.

To say the next zoom class with Aizawa was tense was an... understatement. There Aizawa was, sitting in his leather rolly chair like normal, acting like nothing happened, not saying anything, just staring at his students, and they stared right back.

" I understand you all have made a discovery, and I have a reasonable explanation for it" He started, focusing his camera, nobody spoke up after that they just continued to stare, continued waiting for him to explain with his "reasonable explanation".

"You see, my husband and I adopted y/n over the summer when we were visiting the u.s. No one else was going to because of her quirk, so we took it upon ourselves as heroes to save he-'

"Cut the bullshit, I know what I want, and it is not to hear you drone on for an hour. We could anonymously send this to the press, and you'd be knee-deep in accusations." Bakugo interrupted, being specially fed up with the fact that this man that's supposed to be a law-following hero committed such a crime, and doesn't even have the conscious, to tell the truth once found out.

"If anything is released then you will never see her again, I know what she does to people, what she's done to your minds, and I understand it. We could... agree upon something." Nobody wanted that, they NEEDED to see you, and although they didn't know why they knew they did. and they didn't need an explanation.

"I want to see her, every meeting, every class, in person or not. I. Want. To. See. Her." Mina continued Bakugo's sentence for him,

"As her father, I will warn you all, if you so much as think about her in the wrong way, I don't care if you're my student, I will hang you with my scarf." Everybody looked at Mineta's screen after he said this, knowing damn well you weren't ever going to speak to him, nobody would allow it. Not in a million years.

"We would never hurt her. we swear on it"

And with a sigh, Aizawa huffed and scrunched his eyebrows, looking more than upset, looking more than anxious, he looked terrified.

"class dismissed, see you tommorow"

---

"sweetheart? can you come to talk to me and papa for a few moments, you can go back to reading your book in a second, but we need to tell you something" Your daddy's voice piped in from the living room, you'd been lying in bed and reading one of the only books they'd allowed you to have, it was odd that he sounded so serious, they never had that tone with you. so you made your way down the stairs, only to be met with the sight of your parents, sitting on the couch and looking grim.

"Yeah. uh- what's happening? am I in trouble?" you questioned, it was a very rare occurrence that they looked upset around you unless it was getting angry that you were trying to be grown up when you weren't. that was common.

"no baby, weve just been thinking. About how lonely you seem to be when we're working, all you have is the cats and occasionally the birds by the window. So we decided to enroll you into U.A, the school we work at, as a teachers aid" Aizawa lied through his teeth, immediately a smile lit up on your face, you'd been begging them for ages to let you go to school, even if it was just a little low budget school. this was amazing!

"oh my god! really! thank you thank you thank you! I love you so much! when do I start! what classes am I in? will I get to have real friends?" you spluttered out a multitude of questions, the little sparkle in your eye that had been lost for weeks finally had returned, it was cute, and the parents were glad it made you this happy.

Usually, kids would be VERY upset about having to go back to school, like having summer break end, but you were the opposite, the last instance of freedom you had before you stayed home 24/7 was our little middle school, with no parents hovering, no childish teaching methods, just you and school. and then they even took that away. so regaining that freedom was amazing!

" Hold on sweetheart, it's a big step to go from homeschool to high school, so most of your classes will be with us, you'll be in class 1A, and any times where you arent with us, you will be with one of our trusted friends. do you remember ms? midnight?" The minor inconveniences to your newfound freedom didn't dampen your mood.

"that's okay... but can I have friends?"

"Of course sweetheart. as long as we approve, there are so many good boys and girls in my class, you'll love it" Aizawa replied, thinking about the little bastards making him thrust his daughter into the scary new world. fucking bastards. he and Mic caught eyes for a moment, before continuing.

"You start in two days.

be ready" --------------------------------------------------- I swear im not dead, just been working on my drafts so i can clear out my inbox, if you see any grammer flaws, no you didnt.

anyway, this account has 1,700 followers now, and I'm doing a special. someone give me an idea in the comments plz.

have a wonderful day anon! and all those who read! bye bye!

[hungwy]

(edited for clarity)

VSO is the most prominent word order and is present in both main and relative clauses.

Relative clauses are treated much differently than in English. They are nonreduced, in that relative clauses come in the form of a full independent clause: “The boy [who threw {the ball that landed in our yard}] is eating food” becomes “The boy {threw [the ball landed in our yard}] is eating food”. Moreover, relative clauses are internally headed, meaning the head appears inside the relative clause. (on one hand the VSO order makes this a much more clear phenomenon; on the other hand writing sentences makes me want to bang my head on something)

Identifying the main antecedent is not always clear through the usual word order. Generally, the subject of the main clause is typically the same subject as the relative clause:

watch.TR [be-awake.INTR I(S)](A) field(O) "I who was awake watched the field."

come.INTR [rain.INTR cloud(S)](S) to-us "The raining cloud came to us."

eat.TR [kill.TR man(A) {cow(O)}](A) steak(O) "The man who kills the cow eats steak."

However, if the main clause uses an intransitive verb, and the relative clause a transitive verb, the main clause will take the object of the relative clause as subject:

go-home.INTR [see.TR yesterday I(A) person(O)](S) today “The person I saw yesterday went home today.”

Furthermore, complex sentences with many embedded relative clauses are still systematic as to where the main subject lays:

wear.TR [walk.INTR {see.TR I(A) [man(O)]}(S)](A) [squeak.intr shoe(S)](O) "The walking man I see wears squeaking shoes."

We see that in the deepest relative clause the man is the object of the transitive "see" clause, which is relativized to the clause with intransitive "walk", making "man" the subject of the "walk" clause. Since the intransitive "walk" clause only contains one subject, the man, that subject of that relative clause is passed outward to transitive "wear".