#this happens a lot more than you think btw

[prodagustd]

surprise | myg

this is an extra chapter of the so it goes series.

—pairing: rapper!yoongi x reader

—rating: +18

—genre: established relationship, ex fwb, angst, fluff

—warnings/tags: implied smut, lots of angst, fluff, subtle talk about aborti0n, DON’T trust my poor knowledge in contraceptive methods and use condoms!! english is not my first language btw

—words: 7.6k

a/note: this is proof that if you ask me enough, I'll finish writing my wips!! it's been a long time but I finally get to post the surprise drabble I've been planning and it makes me sososo happy to come back to this couple 😭 I missed them so much I just hope you missed them as much as I did!! BTW I was planning to post this after two other drabbles, so if you read any additional information it's because this was intended to be posted after that, but i wanted to post this so badly😭 so here it is!! hehe anyway enjoy!!

A few years ago, when you and Yoongi were beginning to be a thing and you still lived with your best friend, Nayeon, while he lived alone in his big apartment, he picked up this habit of begging you to stay the night with him every time you visited, even though he knew you couldn’t. You used to say no, trying hard to ignore the way he kissed your neck and sneaked his hands under your blouse while explaining that, if you said yes, he was willing to wake up early and drive you to your first class the next day. You'd think that after the first or maybe even the second time he tried this, the effect would wear off, but you ended up agreeing every single time.

Back then everything was so new to him, he couldn’t remember the last time he liked someone that much, he didn’t know what was happening to him and why he wanted to spend every night with you, why he couldn’t keep his hands off you. Sure you were pretty, sure you were beautiful and funny, and your lips tasted like strawberries and you looked at him like one else ever did, maybe it had something to do with that, who knew? The only thing he knew was that he felt like a teenager everytime you kissed him, or every time you ran your fingers through his hair or every time you were naked under him, or on top of him, or anywhere close to him for that matter. 

It took Yoongi a few hits, ten drunk nights and way too many days to realize that you were the only thing that he needed, that the world only made sense if you were by his side. 

With time, Yoongi learned to kiss slowly, to make love slowly, to take things with ease; he learned that you were going nowhere, but there were still those moments where he felt he couldn’t get enough of you; like tonight, to be exact. 

You were sure that in the last four years of dating Yoongi you had made it clear enough that you were a city girl, and you were certain your boyfriend knew that. You loved the noise and the chaos—the people bumping into each other on the streets, the busy days and nights. It wasn’t something you planned to give up anytime soon; this was the perfect time in your life to embrace the city's hustle. You’d have plenty of time for a quiet life when you got older.

Yoongi liked the city too—he enjoyed the view from his apartment window and the convenience of ordering food at any hour of the night. But he also loved road trips and sleeping in the middle of nowhere in a tent, bonfires, fishing and swimming in lakes. Yoongi had always been into camping, but instead of planning a trip with his good old friend Seokjin, who didn’t mind sleeping in a tent and loved fishing, he invited you—someone who hated bugs and couldn’t stand the idea of walking more than three minutes to find a bathroom.

You were still trying to decide whether not being able to say no to Yoongi was a problem, but it was his last free week before going back on tour. When he looked at you with starry eyes and asked you to go on a trip with him, which included spending the last two days sleeping in a tent, you couldn’t say no.

It was only two days, you were sure you could endure not sleeping in a proper bed for that long if that made him happy, you made the effort of not complaining just for tonight, after all you only had tickets to go visit him on tour in exactly five weeks, you were going to miss him. 

It was easy not to complain when Yoongi’s plans for your last night together were exclusively romantic; he cooked for you, built a campfire and spent the rest of the night stargazing until it was too cold to be outside, and when you were inside the tent he made sure to have hot water bags under the blankets, but they were no use when he was determined to get you naked. 

Did you mention that it was still winter?

Now you were trapped in a tent with him, straddling him as he kissed you deeply and gripped your thighs, begging you to ride him against your lips. That was when you started to complain. 

You felt your whole body shivering when Yoongi’s warm hands pulled your t-shirt over your head, leaving you almost naked. You hugged your torso, attempting to cover your breasts as you sat straight on top of your boyfriend, who was comfortably laying on the sleeping bag, fully clothed. 

“Yoongi, I’m cold.” You whined.

“C’mon, it’s going to wear off” He tried to convince you, rubbing his palms over your shoulders to keep you warm. You shook your head, laying your head on his still clothed chest as he covered your bare back with the blanket. It was easy for him to say that when he was wearing sweatpants and a long sleeve t-shirt. 

You knew that Yoongi was already missing you. He was fully aware that after tonight, he wouldn’t see you for a whole month and he wanted to make it last as long as he could, to hold you and kiss you as much as you let him. He had gotten too used to you—used to sleeping and waking up next to you, having you all to himself—but it became a problem every time he had to leave for work, it was impossible not to miss you. You still had texts, calls and FaceTime, but he was also taking into account time difference, work, and the fact that all of that wasn’t the real thing. And if you were honest, you were already missing him too. 

“What if I catch a cold?” You mumbled over his shirt. 

Yoongi kissed the top of your head, running his hands down your bare back and sending chills to your spine. How was he able to get you almost naked but you didn’t even get the chance to take off his t-shirt? “It’s not that cold.” He said, not willing to give up. 

You raised your head to look at him, frowning “Says the person who’s still fully clothed.”

He huffed, flipping you over to leave you under him. Suddenly, warmth rushed over you as you felt his body hovering over your frame. He was quick to take off his own t-shirt, trying to make you happy, but he quickly realized that maybe you were right, it was fucking cold, but he wasn’t going to back down.

“Happy now?”

“No, it’s freezing out there!” You kept complaining “Why do we have to do it without clothes? I don’t mind clothes, I actually think that doing it while being dressed is quite hot.” 

You threw your arms around his neck, bringing him closer to you. Even though you were in fact turned on from the kissing and grinding session you had a few moments ago, you still were thinking about the logistics of fucking inside the tent. 

Yoongi scoffed, amused.  “And I actually think that you being naked is quite hot, too.” He said, sneaking his face in the crook of your neck to trail down little kisses, nibbling the skin softly. “C’mon, baby. I won’t see you for weeks, let me make love to you.”

You tried not to roll your eyes. “You had been using that excuse the whole trip.” And you’ve fallen for it every time. His plans for this trip were very simple: fishing, camping and fucking you on every opportunity he had. It was not like you were against it, it has been a long time since you and him had time only for the two of you. 

“But isn’t it true?” He gazed up, looking at you with his soft eyes, his hair falling like a curtain on his face. “I’m gonna miss you.” 

You took a second to observe the tenderness of his features, to take in the softness of his voice, and for a moment there you knew why it was so hard to say no to him, you just didn’t want to say no. 

You closed your eyes, scrunching your nose. “We are gonna make such a mess.” You whined, but he just chuckled, knowing he won.

“I’ll take care of it, I promise.” He said with a soft voice, reaching for your lips as he roamed his hands towards your chest. You didn’t exactly know how he was going to “take care of it”, but his hands were gentle, the kiss was slow and when he opened his mouth to let his tongue slip past your lips, you were too into it to keep protesting about it.

As you sat on the cold bathroom floor of the home you shared with Yoongi, you tried to remind yourself of two basic things that you hoped would stop the sinking feeling in your chest. First, three weeks without Yoongi never killed anyone, this was something you knew from experience, Yoongi’s job demanded him to travel all the time, you were used to it, or at least you were supposed to be. Second, you were an independent woman (right?). You have been an independent woman since you were eighteen when you moved to Seoul alone, since you started a new life in a new city on your own. You woke up at six am everyday, worked hard your whole shift, paid the bills every month and managed to keep your house in order every day of the week. Sure, you loved Yoongi, and he loved you, and you could never imagine a life without him, but you didn’t need him, you wanted him. He wasn’t an extension of you, you were your own person, but why did you feel like the world was about to end right now if he was not there?

Crying your heart out like a five year old kid, you remembered the only time you had to take a pregnancy test, and how it looked nothing like this. 

Four years ago when you and Yoongi still didn’t kiss in front of your friends, when he still thought twice before holding your hand in public but still had the nerve of sneaking in your bed. That seemed like a hundred years ago, a universe away, but no, it was not too long ago when you were stubborn and kind of irresponsible for agreeing with him as he kissed your neck and ran his hands down your thighs while asking you if it was okay for him to “pull out” that night, since both of you completely forgot about condoms. You winced at the memory, but in your defense, you were too far gone to say no, take a cold shower and kiss him goodnight. You agreed only for that night, but three weeks later you were three days late and losing your mind, the only logical thing to do was to take a pregnancy test that, of course, came negative, but to this day you couldn’t shake the anxious feeling that you felt in your stomach those minutes before the negative sign appeared, and you couldn’t forget how pale Yoongi’s face turned when you told him about it. 

And now you were there, one hand covering your face while the other held a pregnancy test—only this time, it was positive. 

The one on your hand wasn’t the only one, no. There were two other positive tests laying on the floor in front of you, and even if you wanted to not trust the results, they couldn’t be all wrong, right? The plus sign was very clear in each one of them and you were five days late. The problem was that you were on the pill, you had been on the pill for the last couple years and this never happened to you, this wasn’t something normal or a simple mistake. 

You breathed out, trying not to panic. You got up on your bare feet to look at yourself in the mirror. You were a mess, that was not a surprise at all, your face was all swollen for the amount of time you have been crying and your hair was a big nest above your head. You washed your face, attempting to remain calm and evaluating your options. You glanced at your phone resting on the sink, and an overwhelming urge to call your mother surged within you, but as you imagined how the conversation would go, you quickly realized it wouldn’t be a good idea.

Your mother was not nosy, but she could be a little dense, a bit complicated, and it was not what you needed right now. You were sure that calling her while having a mental breakdown was going to drive her crazy, and consequently, drive you crazy too.  She would want to know every single detail, date, place and hour to understand the situation better, and you would have to explain something you didn’t even understand yet. You could imagine the conversation, she would try to explain every contraceptive method like you were a teenager and ask why you didn’t use a condom, because you knew she would ask, and you didn’t want to explain to her how you went on vacation with your boyfriend to have a bunch of condomless sex, the thought alone made you want to vomit. 

Calling your mother was not an option, not only because talking to her on the phone was complicated enough, but because she was in a different city, which brought you to discard calling Nayeon too, who was on vacation with her boyfriend (yes, boyfriend, that sounded ridiculous to you, too.) 

The last option was something you couldn't even fathom doing unless you were desperate, but you know what they say, desperate times call desperate measures, so you blew your nose, brushed your hair and called the only person in this city who would come running without asking any questions, Jungkook.

Breaking the news to the person in front of you wasn’t easy, especially when the words you needed to say were as unreal as they sounded. You didn’t look much better, you spent the next thirty minutes that Jungkook took to arrive crying, as Holly, the brown fluffy dog, looked at you like you just went mad, the worst thing was that you weren’t far from it. It was difficult to keep it together when your mind refused to look at the bright side of things, when you couldn’t call your mom and Yoongi was in another country, but when Jungkook rang your bell and entered through the door, you tried your best to smile at him and act like you weren’t in the middle of a mental breakdown. 

Your act wasn’t convincing, your friend looked at you like you were about to tell him that you killed someone and you needed help to hide the body.

You would have never recur to a man other than Yoongi for this kind of situation, but you decided to trust your ten years of friendship with the man in front of you and hope that he could be of any help. 

“You are what?” Said Jungkook, standing in the middle of the living room with his eyes wide open, trying to understand the meaning of your words.

There, in your pajamas and your hands on your hips, you closed your eyes shut, sighing. “Jungkook…” You said through gritted teeth. 

“I’m serious.” He said, letting his backpack drop to the floor. “I crossed half the city to get here, are you not kidding me right now?”

“I’m serious, too!” You whined “I’m not kidding, I don’t know what to do.”

He slowly approached you, walking towards the couch to take a seat. He suddenly felt his blood pressure dropping, his stomach sinking and his mouth dry as if he was the one developing a human organism inside his body.  “Are you sure?” He murmured. “Are you not having one of those crises you had when you were a teenager? I remember that time in college when you freaked out when you thought you were pregnant because some guy-”

“Jungkook, I’m sure.” You interrupted him, already knowing the whole story, but this time it was not just you overreacting. “My period is late and I took three tests, all positive.” 

He gulped, letting the room fall silent for a few seconds as both of you contemplated what that meant. You knew he was trying his best not to freak out, so you were grateful for his reaction, at least he didn’t faint like you expected him to do, but he was still white as a sheet, trying to find a solution in his head as though you had told him he was the one who was going to be a father.

“What are we gonna do?” He said under his breath.

“What am I gonna do?” You corrected him, sitting next to him “You are supposed to help me.” 

Jungkook took one hard look at you, looking terrified. “How?”

“God, I shouldn’t have called you.” You rolled your eyes. 

“No, I mean, what do you want to do?” He said. “Did you tell Yoongi?”

“Of course not.” You replied, feeling your eyes getting teary, but still trying to hold back. 

“Do you want to… tell him?” He continued to ask. 

You sniffed “I mean, I don’t know how.” You pouted “I’m seeing him in two weeks, I don’t know if I can wait that long.” 

He threw himself back against the couch, sinking in the cushions. It was like Jungkook’s life flashed before his eyes, how come he was discussing this with you right now? He still felt like you were kids, there was no way you were pregnant right now. “How did this happen?” He murmured to himself, looking at the blank wall in front of him. 

“Is it necessary for me to explain it?” You cried, snuggling closer to him as you rested your head on his shoulder. 

“Did you not use condoms?” He scolded you like he was your mother. 

You shifted your weight uneasily, eyes darting down to your socks. “We don’t… use condoms.” You cleared your throat, the words coming out hushed and hesitant. “I’m on the pill, I don’t know what happened.”

On second thought, that wasn’t something Jungkook wanted to know. It was like finding out how his parents had sex, he squirmed at the thought, shifting in his place. “Can you not call your doctor?” He suggested, his voice laced with uncertainty.

You paused, considering it. It was probably the most logical thing Jungkook could say, but you weren’t sure if your doctor could do anything about it.

“Even if I call her and tell her what's going on, it’s not like I can get a refund.” You huffed, a dry smile tugging at your lips.

He raised an eyebrow. “Well…” he began, dragging the word out. “In some way, you could get a refund.” You blinked at him, opening your eyes wide in surprise. “I mean only if you want to!”

You were so nervous you wanted to laugh. It wasn’t like the thought  didn’t cross your mind for a moment, but only when you tried to evaluate your options; if you were being honest, you couldn’t see yourself getting rid of the baby—or whatever organism had been living rent-free in your body for the past three weeks. Jungkook looked terrified that you might explode at him, especially when it seemed like you were on the verge of tears, but his question made you think, if you didn’t want to get rid of it, what was that you wanted to do?

You sank your shoulders, feeling completely lost. “That’s the problem.” You murmured “I don’t know if I want a refund.” 

Jungkook stood still for a moment, his eyes softening as he watched you. His thoughts swirled, trying to grasp the weight of your words. 

"Would Yoongi want a refund?" He asked, his tone lighter than before, but the sincerity in his voice was unmistakable. Despite the attempt at humor, his eyes betrayed the concern he was masking with the joke. 

A shaky exhale left your lips, the weight of uncertainty pulling you down. “I don’t know…” Was the only thing you could say. 

“But do you know if Yoongi wanted… kids?” He said as if that was a forbidden word. “I mean, do you want them?”

It wasn’t like you didn’t know what Yoongi wanted. You sighed, suddenly remembering all those times when the idea of a family came up in conversations, between drunken thoughts, before falling asleep, at dinner with his parents and on the ride home when he apologized on his mother’s behalf when she asked when you were going to give her grandchildren. His soft eyes, his hand on your tight and the view of the future laying in front of you like a promise. The thought warmed your heart for a moment, but the truth was that there was a difference between talking about it and actually having kids.

“We’ve talked about it…” You admitted. “But we’ve never planned it, let alone now that he’s on tour.” 

Jungkook hummed, still thinking. 

“But you both agreed to have kids at some point.” He affirmed, and you just nodded. 

It was in that moment where you realized you were crying again, tears slowly falling down your cheeks as you stood in silence, contemplating the overwhelming weight of the situation. 

“Fuck, don’t cry.” Jungkook said, rushing to wrap his arms around you, he enveloped you in a tight hug. As soon as you buried your face into his chest, something inside you gave away. You began sobbing against his hoodie, the tears flowed freely and uncontrollable, unable to hold yourself back. “C’mon, it’s okay, you’re okay. Nothing bad’s gonna happen.” His voice was soft but firm, holding you tightly. He pulled back just enough to look at you, his thumb gently wiping away a tear from your cheek, his gaze filled with nothing but concern. “You don’t need to have it all figured out right now. Let’s go step by step, okay?”

You nodded, feeling like a kid lost in the mall. “Okay, if you want to see him as soon as possible, you have to change your flight first.” He said, but you shook your head, trying not to panic. 

“He’s going to ask why.” You said, your voice hoarse “What am I going to tell him?”

He kept silent, his eyes fixed on a distant point as he was trying to come up with a solution. 

“Let’s not tell him.” He proposed.

“What do you mean let’s not tell him?”

“I’m leaving for tour next weekend, you should come with me and not tell him.” He kept going “Say that you missed him and you wanted to surprise him or some shit like that, and when you get him alone you talk to him about this.” 

Now you were reminded that Jungkook had to leave to join Yoongi on tour in just a few days, you completely forgot about that. It was not like you couldn’t get on an airplane alone, but if your friend was going to be there you were sure it would make things easier. 

You couldn’t believe it. After so many years you were there, sad and upset and still with the same idiot as a friend, willing to follow whatever plan he was going to make for you. You didn’t know if the plan actually sounded good or you were losing your mind for listening to Jungkook.

“Jungkook, Yoongi texts me all the time, he facetimes me everyday. It’s impossible to travel to another country without him noticing.”

“It’s not impossible, I’m gonna help you.” He insisted “If he texts you, you say you’re at home, if he wants to facetime you, you say you’re busy, turn off your location, it shouldn't be difficult.”

“It is difficult, what if he realizes I turned off my location?” You groaned, running your finger through your hair exasperatedly. 

“You say it stopped working or something! C’mon, I thought you were smarter than me.”

You threw yourself back against the couch, crossing your arms on your chest, it was almost comical that you were considering the idea. Your friend could sense the hesitation in every move you made, he could only hope that you agreed because his mind couldn’t come up with another idea if his life depended on it. 

“Jungkook, if he suspects anything…” You raised a finger, digging it on his chest. 

“He won’t suspect a thing,” He affirmed confidently. “When have any of my plans ever gone wrong? Never. Trust me, by the time you get back home, you’ll have already decided to name your baby after me.”

You rolled your eyes, unable to hide your laugh and punching him in the arm playfully. The tension was still there, and you still felt an inexplicable ache in your chest that wasn’t going away anytime soon, but being there with Jungkook made you feel that this wasn’t the end of the world, nor of your life, but the beginning of it.  

Jungkook's plan wasn’t the master plan he had been bragging about the whole airplane ride, but it worked. A few days later, after a few calls and arrangements to change your flight, after another three mental breakdowns and several crying sessions in the shower, you had somehow arrived in Berlin without Yoongi suspecting a thing. You had managed to dodge facetime calls and weird questions, maybe Yoongi missed you so much that he didn’t have time to question why you couldn’t wait two more weeks to see him when you arrived at the hotel and hugged in the hall, because, if he were honest, he couldn’t wait two more weeks to see you either. 

Yoongi was happy with the surprise, you went to see his show that night and after arriving to his hotel room he made love to you like he hadn’t seen you in a year, kissing your neck, grabbing your waist, murmuring things in your ear, saying how much he loved you, how much he missed you. For a moment it was like nothing changed, the two of you sharing what happened these last three weeks tangled between sheets, laughing between kisses as you ignored why you were there in the first place. 

“You can’t keep spending time away from me.” He said, hovering over you as he left a small kiss on your lips. “I’ll keep you in my pocket if it’s necessary.” 

You sighed, knowing that you couldn’t keep this a secret for much longer, but for tonight, you’ll let it slide. 

You didn’t know when you were returning home, but you promised yourself that before leaving for the next city, you would have to break the news to Yoongi, which was becoming more difficult by the second, because if you were good at something, that was procrastinating. It was absurd, a few days ago you were crying because all you wanted to do was to have your boyfriend by your side and now you couldn’t even look him in the eye without feeling like you were about to throw up, and your mind wasn’t helping at all. All those doubts invaded your head, attempting to drive you crazy, making you believe you were not ready to tell him yet.

Three days later, when you finished the last show in Berlin, Jungkook gave you a knowing look as you were leaving the arena holding Yoongi’s hand. He knew that you haven’t said a thing to Yoongi yet, he was all over you like he was your mother, asking you if you were okay, if you needed anything, when you were going to tell Yoongi, it almost made you regret telling him, but you knew he was right. 

A night was all you needed, just one night to gather your thoughts and practice what you were going to say. You couldn’t keep declining glasses of wine forever,  you could only hope no one noticed how weird you were acting, how sensitive you were since you stepped foot out the plane. Time was running out; you knew that when Yoongi invited you to an after-party before the whole crew left Berlin. Instead of telling him the truth, you simply said you weren’t in the mood to go, hoping that your time alone would help to gather enough courage to confess.

You weren’t trying to keep Yoongi with you, you told him a million times that he should go without you and that there was no problem with it. You hid under the blanket and hugged your body, watching him change his shirt into a black tee. He ran his finger through his hair in an attempt to tame it, looking at himself into the mirror and stealing a glance towards your reflection. He knew you too well not to notice the sad expression on your face as you scrolled through your phone, searching for a Disney movie to watch while he was out. He turned around, approaching the bed and kneeling beside you to catch your eyes. 

“Are you sure you don’t want to come?” He asked once again.

“Yeah, I just need one night.” You said, which was true. You needed a few more moments to finish fighting with your own thoughts. 

“But are you okay?” He continued to ask, cupping your jaw in his palm.

“Of course, why wouldn’t I be?” The words came out of your mouth with more emotion than you intended to, he couldn’t ignore it. 

“I don’t know… You look like you want me to stay.”

There was a beat of silence in the room. The sweetness of his voice broke your heart into a million pieces. You couldn’t say yes and make him stay just because you were feeling down and you really had no problem with him leaving, but you didn’t have the heart to tell him no either. You were full of contradictions, wanting to be alone but wanting to be with him at the same time, something in your chest pulled, wanting him close. 

“What makes you think that?” You murmured, fighting the urge to cry. God, you were too sensitive.

“Mmm… The Disney movie kinda gives you away.”

You huffled, playing with the fingers of his hands without looking at him. “I don’t want to ruin your fun… You should go, I mean it.”

He scoffed “You won’t, there’s going to be a bunch of parties until the tour ends, this one is nothing.”

“They’ll miss you…”

“You’ll miss me, too.”

“But do you want to stay, though?” You asked him a whisper. 

“Of course I want to… But you have to let me choose the movie.” He warned, automatically making you giggle.

Letting Yoongi choose the movie was the worst decision you have made in the last week so far, but you felt grateful he couldn’t see you as he hugged your waist and rested his chin on your shoulder, because as the ending of Inside Out approached, you were sure you were about to cry. 

When you arrived at the airport you promised yourself not to cry anymore, not in front of Yoongi at least, but your body was full of emotions you didn’t even know you could feel. It was certain that you’ve always been a sensitive person, you cried at the drop of a hat, Yoongi was familiar with that, but now it was impossible to stop it. 

You’d stopped paying attention to the screen entirely; one by one, your darkest thoughts crept in, pressing heavily on your chest. The feelings you’d tried so hard to bury rose up, churning uneasily in your stomach, and when you least expected it, tears began to fall down your cheeks.

A sob escaped from your lips at the same time the main character began to cry, making your boyfriend shift in his place. 

“Are you crying?” Yoongi suddenly asked, softly grabbing your shoulder to turn you around. He looked at your face, at first amused, thinking you were crying because of the movie. But his expression softened when he saw the sadness in your eyes and the damp lashes heavy with tears. You covered your face, unable to hold back, and the sobs came harder, each one swallowing the words you couldn’t say. “Hey, hey, what’s wrong?” He reached for your arms, attempting to pull them away from your face, but you turned away, burying your face in the pillow.

“Nothing,” You lied, desperate to avoid this conversation again. “I’m just… emotional, I don’t know.” Your voice cracked, hoarse, as the emotions you were trying to hide slipped through.

Yoongi was confused, but mostly worried. You had been weird since the day you arrived, he would be a fool not to notice. 

He turned the light of the lamp on the nightstand, illuminating the room with a soft orange light and turned the tv off. 

“Hey, look at me.” He softly said, brushing your hair with his fingers, it only made you want to cry harder. “I know something’s up, I’m not a dummy.” 

You turned to him, hitting him with the most heartbreaking sight he could witness, your face soaked in tears, nose and eyes red as you pouted at him. What was so wrong to make you cry like that?

“What do you know?” Was the only thing you could say, daring to be upset at him when he hadn't done anything wrong. 

He frowned at your tone. “Well, I know that you suddenly came here two weeks earlier just because. You are weird, you almost don’t eat, your suitcase is almost untouched like you’re going to leave anytime soon, you look… sad? I don’t know, baby, you tell me.”

You kept silent for a second, wiping the tears with the sleeve of your t-shirt. Uncomfortable, you sat in the bed, taking a deep breath as your mind completely blanked. You didn’t realize yet, but there was no way to get out of this one.

Contrary to popular belief, your boyfriend was kind of a dummy. You confirmed it when he decided to say the following words. 

“Is it because of Lily?” He said, making you dart your eyes at him. “You don’t like her being here? 

You couldn’t blame Yoongi for not understanding why you were crying, but the suggestion that you were jealous of one of his coworkers made you want to punch him. Lily was one of the new producers at Yoongi’s label, and a few months ago, Yoongi had noticed that you were starting to feel uneasy about the amount of time she was spending with him, which led him to realize that you were beginning to feel unexpectedly jealous of her. Yes, that was a whole deal back then, but it was water under the bridge now; the fact that she was touring with him and the boys didn’t faze you. The idea that he thought you were crying because of her was ridiculous. 

“Yoongi, are you kidding me?”

“No, I’m not.” He defended himself. “The last time I saw you we were fine, but now you’re here crying and I don’t have a clue what I did wrong.”

Suddenly, you felt your heart sink. He hadn’t done anything wrong; it was you who was an emotional wreck, struggling to keep your feelings in check. A wave of guilt washed over you for the mess you’d just created, convinced there must have been ways to prevent all this conflict. But now, all you could do was sit there, tangled in the aftermath of your own emotions.

You sighed, defeated. “You didn’t do anything wrong.” You said “And it’s not about Lily, I couldn’t care less about that… It’s just that- … Yoongi…”

“Baby…” He said in the same tone as you, “What is it?”

As Yoongi’s gentle question hung in the air, you felt a knot tighten in your chest. The truth sat heavy on your tongue, you glanced away, fidgeting with the edge of your sleeve, buying time as your thoughts spiraled. “Yoongi, my period is late.” You confessed, observing Yoongi’s eyes go wide, his brows lifting in surprise as he tried to understand what he just heard. “It’s been a week now, I don’t know what happened. I tried to wait, but I had to take a test”

 “A test?” he asked, voice low, surprise flickering in his eyes.

“A pregnancy test, Yoongi.” You said, trying not to roll your eyes. “I took three damn tests.”

“And what-... what happened?” He asked, his voice unsteady, eyes fixed on yours.

The room felt suddenly smaller, the air thick with unspoken fears and questions. A quiet stillness settled between you both, there was a weight to the silence, stretching out the seconds as you waited for whatever words would come next.

“I mean, guess what happened,” you whispered. Before you could finish the sentence, you got up and reached for the zipper on your suitcase pocket. Your hand closed around the large object, and you felt his eyes on the back of your neck, following you as you moved around the hotel room. Returning to the bed, you sat down and handed him the pregnancy test.

Yoongi didn’t know anything about pregnancy tests—he’d never needed to. He’d always been careful, using protection with every girl he’d been with, including you, until things had started to get serious. So no, he wasn’t familiar with the variety of pregnancy tests out there. But now, here he was, staring at a white stick with a tiny screen, showing a clear positive sign, which could only mean one thing.

Yoongi’s hands trembled slightly as he held the pregnancy test, his gaze locked onto the tiny screen, staring at it for a moment, speechless. His heartbeat thundered in his ears, loud enough that he thought you might hear it. Now everything made sense, how you said you were nauseous in the morning, each time you refused to drink wine, how you looked like you were about to cry when you saw a stroller with twins this afternoon at the park. How could he not notice?

You pressed your lips together, feeling the familiar sting of tears welling up once more. A small, shaky hiccup escaped your lips, breaking the silence and snapping him out of his daze. “No, no, no,” He murmured urgently, setting the test aside and pulling you close, lifting you effortlessly onto his lap. His arms wrapped around your waist as you buried your face in your hands, trying to hold back the tears. “Hey, there’s no reason to cry,” He whispered, gently guiding your face up, his fingers lifting your chin as he coaxed your hands away. “C’mon, look at me.” His voice was soft, reassuring, his gaze full of warmth and understanding.

“I don’t know how it happened.” You blurted out, your voice shaking with uncertainty.

“That doesn’t matter now, why didn’t you tell me?” He asked, you could tell he was trying to remain calm by the soft tone of his voice, but his face had gone as white as paper, like he’d just seen a ghost.

“I arranged the flight to see you as soon as possible, but... I was scared. I didn’t know what to say. I still don’t,” you admitted, your words barely a whisper.

“Baby, you don’t have to be scared, okay? You can tell me anything.” He assured you, his hand gently squeezing yours. But the uneasy feeling in your stomach refused to go away.

“I know, but… we haven’t planned for this,” you murmured, glancing down. “It just… came out of nowhere.”

“Well, it didn’t exactly come out of nowhere. These things can happen,” he said gently, a faint smile tugging at his lips. You groaned, burying your face in his chest.

“But it wasn’t supposed to happen,” you whined, your voice muffled against him. “I didn’t expect this at all. I was drowning in work when I found out. I’m stressed, I’m lost, I don’t know what to do… and I miss my mom.” The words tumbled out in a frantic ramble, and you were so caught up in your thoughts that you didn’t even notice the soft laugh he let slip.

“You miss your mom?” he asked softly, careful not to upset you further.

“Yes!” you cried, voice cracking. “I feel like a kid lost in the supermarket.”

He shook his head gently and brushed away your tears with his thumbs, pulling you closer. “Baby…” he began, his tone soothing.

“Yoongi…” you whispered, lifting your head to meet his gaze. His expression was still worried, but the warmth in his eyes was reassuring.

“You’re right, we didn’t plan this. But we’ve talked about it before, and you have options. Whatever you choose, I’ll be right here beside you, no matter what. You know that, don’t you?” He searched your eyes for confirmation, and you nodded, feeling the ache in your chest begin to ease.

As his words sank in, a new wave of emotions stirred inside you. The weight of worry and loneliness began to ease, replaced by a warmth that softened the ache in your chest.

“But… what do you think?” you asked softly. You knew that whatever you decided would ultimately be your choice only, but you needed to know what was going on in his mind.

He sighed, a hint of hesitation in his expression. “I mean… we’re not sixteen, baby. We’re adults, we’re about to buy a house together, and we love each other.”

“Well, those are just facts,” you replied, searching his face. “What I mean is… do you want this, now?”

It was hard for Yoongi to believe you were really asking this. There you were, sitting on his lap with swollen eyes and a red nose from crying, asking him if he wanted to start a family with you—as if that hadn’t been his dream all along. Of course he felt like the life he had been living was going to completely change from now on. It was terrifying, but he couldn’t help but feel excited at the same time. 

“I've always wanted it, are you serious?” He laughed, the sound light but filled with disbelief. “And I only want it with you, haven’t I made it clear enough?”

Those were the main differences between the two of you: while he was calm, always taking a moment to think before acting, you were emotional and, more often than not, let your feelings take control of your actions. It was only in that moment that you realized how irrational you’d been. There wasn’t a world where Yoongi didn’t want this, and there certainly wasn’t a world where you didn’t want it either.

“I want it, too,” you whispered, your voice trembling as you fought back tears.

“Then why are you crying, huh?” he asked gently, squeezing your face in an attempt to lighten the mood.

“Because...” you said, struggling to catch your breath. “Maybe you didn’t think it was the right time... You’re on tour right now.”

He frowned, his expression softening with concern. “I won’t be on tour forever...”

“I know, but... we’re not married. What would your parents think?”

He let out a laugh, clearly unable to believe that was a real concern of yours. “You’re not seriously thinking about my parents right now, are you?”

“How could I not?” you said, raising your eyebrows. “What if they force us to marry? God, I don’t want to be one of those couples who only marry because the girl is suddenly pregnant!”

He laughed even harder, shaking his head. “Oh my god, baby, no one’s forcing us to do anything!” He grinned, clearly finding your worry amusing. “If we ever get married, it won’t be because anyone pressured me. Trust me.” He paused, happy to see that the worried expression abandoned your face. “Besides, my parents love you, you have no idea how happy they’ll be once they know. Married or not.”

“Yoongi, it can’t be that simple.” 

“But it is.”

You sighed, feeling like all the mess you’d made was for nothing—and thank God it was. You’d been so caught up in your own despair that you hadn’t realized everything in your life was falling into place for this to happen. Yoongi was right. You were about to move into a bigger home, you had your job, Yoongi had his, and you loved each other. You've always wanted it, this was the perfect moment for this to happen. Why had you been so worried? 

“You’re right, it is.” You finally admitted, letting your body rest against him. 

Yoongi laughed, gently grabbing you by your hips and laying you on the bed, kissing you softly. “You don’t have to worry, baby, not with me.”

“I know.” You breathed out, feeling like a weight was lifted off your shoulders. “But I am-… I’m so scared. How am I gonna have a baby? It sounds crazy.”

“Of course it does, it is.” He said “I’m terrified, too, but we’re together, right? Nothing bad can happen if we have each other.”

You nodded, feeling your chest unclench. “I guess you're right,” you whispered, your voice thick with emotion. “I just... needed to hear you say it.”

Yoongi smiled, leaning down to steal another kiss from you, this time deeper, longer. “I love you, baby, don’t you know that?”

You brushed your nose against his, nodding. “I love you, too, bubba.”

“C’mon, baby, stop crying.” He said, making you laugh. 

[7ouls]

im REAAAAALLY sorry for the likje longest wait ever but in the meanwhile i've wiorked on my oc too so i'll prob post abt it soon. sorry if this is short or bad but it took me a long time to get motivation to write this 😓

(this isnt proofread so if u see any mistakes dont mind them i’ll correct them tomorrow cause im too tired)

fem! reader btw

Daisuke never liked to rely too much on other people, he was always told how annoying he can be so that would make him even more of a weight than he already is.

Although he can’t complain when his girlfriend is the one who gets to take care of him. After what happened at the Tulpar you could see big changes in his attitude, he tried to smile at you but you can see that it’s not the same genuine lovely smile he used to give you in the past, when he was still on earth with you.

You were his girlfriend before he got the news from his parents about the internship and no matter how much you tried to convince him to not leave he still did, promising you that he’d come back for you. He wasn’t wrong, but this isn’t what you were expecting.

He had many scars around his body, barely able to move. He was put in a wheelchair for a few months, just until the scars have healed and he could get back in feet.

Daisuke’s parents found him a therapist, ignoring the boy’s wishes not to. Because after all he had you, you were the only one who he opened up with about what happened to all of them, about how guilty he felt for them. You were the one holding him in your arms after he cried on your shoulder for hours, you were the one changing his dirty bandages but most of all you were the one that loved him.

At nights like this you liked to wait until Daisuke was sleeping to leave him on your shared bed and go out your balcony to watch the sky filled with the city’s light, and when days were harder you took the hidden pack of cigarettes and light one up.

As you were watching the sky above your head you felt moving inside the house but didn’t think much of it, as it could be your pet just wandering around.

Your presumption turned out to be wrong as you heard your name be yelled from your bedroom, you quickly get inside to check on the voice and found your boyfriend on the floor. You run to him and slowly get him back on your bed. He pouts seeing your worried face checking for any damage.

“Are you okay? How did you get down there, most importantly why were you th-“ He stops you before you can bombard him with even more questions.

“I’m sorry Y/n, i just needed to drink something and when i saw that you weren’t here i tried to take it myself but i couldn’t...” You could see the disappointment in his eyes, you thought he might be feeling like a weight on your shoulders so you tried your best to comfort him.

“Daisuke look at me. You don’t have to apologise, it’s my fault. I should’ve been there for you but i wasn’t and i’m sorry about that. You shouldn’t force yourself to move too much, the doctors said that your body is still too fragile to sudden movements.” The boy looked at you, the mention of doctors saddened him.

“I’m so tired of these doctors, i sometimes wish you could be the one treating me instead. And the therapist girl always keeps trying to make me spill stuff, is it wrong that i don’t want to talk about it? She keeps asking about you a lot too, she might be thinking that you know more than her.”

“She wouldn’t be wrong, if it makes you feel any better i could try speaking with her.” He tiredly nodded at you and you both get back in bed, drifting off into sleep while holding him.

“Goodnight Y/n, i love you.”

IDK HOW I FEEL ABOUT THIS. i weote it in 2 hours so maybe that why its so bad and yea im so tired idek what im saying

[palenutbasement]

(all scenes are depicted as platonic)

So every Inktober I try to do something more challenging, and this year I thought I would make a short comic/fanfic. I think I got the idea for this one a year ago but I was already wrapped up with another Inktober. Eventually I solidified the idea by making my own prompt list some time ago.

This comic is split into three parts with 10 days focusing on each of them, 30 in total, everything is compiled here. I wanted to post them after October in case I wanted to change anything.

This first part takes place in the summit.

The comic is basically all improvised, that means no planning for the composition, plot, or sketching any drawings. The most planning I did was write a few scripts ahead of time within the month to save me some time but most of them would be changed last minute anyways.

As for the plot, I won't go too deep into it because I don't want to talk too much, so you'll just find commentary on the making of the comic and stuff.

This first part is a little gimmick-y compared to the next two, with new elements appearing almost every day. It’s because I relied a lot on the prompts (dog, milk, etc.) to keep things happening, eventually I move further away from them.

What is surprising to me is how much the art changes as the days go by especially within the span of one month. I did refine a few things to keep it more consistent but this is nearly indistinguishable from the original drawings.

I should also mention that my favourite aspect of this project was adding references to the game and subtle details (if you can find it all, awesome!!) This may have been done quickly but I like to have those things and put at least a bit of effort into the dialogue.

Part 2

Eventually I figured that drawing the same setting for 30 days straight would drive me insane, hence why this comic is split like it is. I’m glad I did because it makes the story a little more interesting, seeing the characters have different attitudes in different places and whatnot.

This one takes place in the cave directly after pt 1. Admittedly I do better drawing outdoor settings, it's what I'm used to, but the cave wasn't so bad to figure out.

I remember these two days I was streaming drawing the comic to my friends, so I kinda zoned out while we were talking lol

One of the prompts was about napping, so I made Dwarf sleep. I believe I was tired that day too and it was therapeutic to draw and include that. Also they look cute, I think.

18 & 19 have some of my favourite drawings in the comic. The campfire lighting is what we'd get if I had a bit more energy each day, and I like the perspective in the first panel of 19.

I find this last section interesting, because of all the 30 days, it’s the only one in Dwarf’s POV. I felt like it was fitting to do something like that at the time.

Part 3

Since we were approaching Halloween, I wanted to have a special part for it. It’s related to the other two parts but it takes place some time after. I’m really sorry it’s out of season, if it were up to me I would have had this post out earlier (thank my midterms for the delay)

Out of all the other parts this one is my favourite. Maybe because it’s more recent I’m inclined to think that way but it has some of my fave moments that I've written here.

Other than that I don't have much commentary for this part. More thoughts at the end!

I was caught up everyday atp, but I didn’t have much spare time to prepare for the ending (I wrote it the morning of that day). I think this is a decent conclusion though.

I intend on coming back to this story, maybe next year to make a continuation but we'll see what happens. There are definitely things that I want to come back to someday.

Thank you for making it this far btw. It's been an eventful month for me beyond this (Untitled) comic, but there wasn't a single aspect of this that I didn't enjoy doing. It's a silly project and I care about it.

Also, I'm not going to neglect the 31st of October! That day will get an illustration, where I will pick my favourite panel and redraw it. I want to take my time with this one so it's not out yet, but hopefully I can finish by Christmas.

[ranahan]

And now for the third part where I have some theories. There will also be a fourth with still more theories.

A theory about -yc, -cy-, -cye and -cya

There are two adjectival suffixes in Mando’a: -la and -yc. You’ll often see -la reduced to just an -l- in compound words. But what about -yc?

Well, what I think happens it gets reduced to just /ʃ/… which is spelled as ⟨cy⟩.*

And you know how Mando’a uses the plural suffix to derive nouns from other word classes?

I think -cya and -cye are effectively combinations of -yc + either the archaic plural suffix -a or the modern -e. (Well, -a also seems to be a regular nominal suffix I guess, but the phonological process would be the same.) Meaning that nouns that end in -cya or -cye were probably derived from adjectives ending in a regular -yc.

This theory btw only accounts for words where the cy can be analysed as a suffix, but not for e.g. cyare. So it’s a special case of why cy is pronounced that way, rather than the full explanation.

More palatalisation

To be clear, this is where I veer from analysis to creative interpretation in an attempt to make Mando’a make sense as a language.

Well, is it only this one sound (whatever sound c used to be) that’s affected by palatalisation?

There are no other consonants that would display this kind of a phenomenon where they change pronunciations based on what follows.

There are, however, other consonants that are followed by the semivowel y. So how ought those be pronounced? Are they palatalised? Or if not full-on palatalised (as in the sound change), maybe palatalised (as in secondary articulation)? Maybe either or anything in between is possible, depending on the dialect.

entye[ENT-yeh]

Ba'gedet'ye![BAH-geh-DET-yeh]

Gedet'ye[Geh-DET-yay]

⟨ty⟩ could be /tʲ/ or /c/, /t͡ʃ/ or /t͡ɕ/

kyor[KIE-ohr]

kyorar[KIE-ohr-ar]

kyorla[kie-OHR-lah]

⟨ky⟩ could be /kʲ/ or /c/, /t͡ʃ/ or /t͡ɕ/ (yes, it’s the same set as for ty—these often merge in languages with this phenomenon)

tracinya[trah-SHEE-nah]

Usen'ye![oo-SEN-yeh]

⟨ny⟩ could be /nʲ/ or /ɲ/, like the Spanish ñ.

chaashya[cha-SHEE-ah]

dralshy'a[drahl-SHEE-ya]

dush'shya (doshishya)[doo-SHEESH-ya]

jate'shya[JAH-tay-SHEE-ah]

ori'shya[ohr-EE-she-ya]

⟨shy⟩ could be /ʃʲ/ or /ɕ/, although Traviss’s pronunciations seem to suggest ‘shya has two syllables. However, see my commentary in the first post on the problems of using English orthography to represent the sounds of another language.

Also these “ya” sounds apparently were originally inspired by Russian**, where they are not diphthongs but palatalised sounds. So that’s the interpretation I’m inclined to go with. It also fits nicely in my phonotactics draft.

* cy might also represent /ʃʲ/ or /ɕ/ rather than /ʃ/, but obviously Traviss’s pronunciation guide wouldn’t be able to represent this difference.

I think palatalisation (however it is realised exactly) is phonemic in Mando’a, i.e. for example kyor and kor would be recognised as different words.

These (plus c) are the only consonants appearing before the y in canon. Perhaps palatalisation is restricted to them, or perhaps it could affect most (but not necessarily all) consonants. Slavic languages certainly have a wide variety of palatalised consonants, although there are also languages with much smaller sets.

** According to David Collins, the audio lead of Republic Commando games in this group interview with Harlin, though as far as I can tell, Harlin himself has directly only admitted to being inspired by Latin, Hungarian, and soviet anthems (see e.g. this interview, although he mentions it in several different interviews), and listening a lot of Hungarian, Russian, and Romanian (see the first link). If anyone has an interview or another source stating differently or adding more support, please send it my way!

In the next part, I’ll elaborate on palatalisation of different consonants and how that could also explain another thorny problem of Mando’a orthography…

C, cy, yc—why are they pronounced like that?

I think I’ve mentioned before that the rule is very nearly regular, so here it is. I’ve reproduced Traviss’s original pronunciation guides here (so you can see whether what I’m saying holds true).

c (without y) is pronounced as /s/ before high front vowels /e i/

cerar [sair-ARR]

ceratir [sair-AH-teer]

ceryc [sair-EESH]

cetar [set-ARR]

cetare [set-ARE-ay]

cin [seen]

cinargaanar [see-NAHR-gah-nahr]

cinarin [see-NAH-reen]

cin'ciri [seen-SEE-ree]

cinyc [SEE-neesh]

ciryc [seer-EESH]

mircin [meer-SEEN]

mircir [meer-SEER]

mirci't [meer-SEET]

racin [ray-SEEN]

tom'urcir [tohm-OOR-seer]

ver'mircit [VAIR-meer-seet]

otherwise as /k/

That is, after other vowels:

ca [kah]

cabuor [kah-BOO- or]

cabur [KAH-boor]

ca'nara [KAH-nah-RAH]

can'gal [CAHN-gahl]

carud [kah-ROOD]

ca'tra[KAH-tra]

cuir [COO-eer]

copaanir [KOH-pan-EER]

copad [KOH-pad]

copikla [koh-PEEK-lah]

copyc [KOH-peesh]

cu'bikad [COO-bee-kahd]

cunak [COO-nahk]

cuun [koon]

cuyan [koo-YAHN]

cuyanir [coo-YAH-neer]

cuyete [coo-YAY-tay]

cuyir [KOO-yeer]

cuyla [COO-ee-lah]

du'car [DOO-kar]

du'caryc [doo-KAR-eesh]

ge'catra [geh-CAT-rah]

jorcu [JOR-koo]

ori'copaad [OH-ree-KOH-pahd]

vencuyanir [ven-COO-yah-neer]

vencuyot [vain-COO-ee-ot]

vercopa [vair-KOH-pa]

vercopaanir [VAIR-koh-PAH-neer]

…and in a word-final position:

balac [bah-LAHK]

bic [beek]

ibac [ee-BAK]

ibic [ee-BIK]

norac [noh-RAK]

tebec [TEH-bek]

yc is always pronounced as /iʃ/

aikiyc [ai-KEESH]

aruetyc [AH-roo-eh-TEESH]

balyc [BAH-leesh]

beskaryc [BES-kar-EESH]

burk'yc [BOOR-keesh]

chakaaryc [chah- KAR-eesh]

copyc [KOH-peesh]

dalyc [DAH-leesh]

daryc [DAR-eesh]

diryc [DEER-eesh]

duumyc [DOO-meesh]

etyc [ETT-eesh]

gaht'yc [GAH-teesh]

gehatyc [geh-HAHT-eesh]

haamyc [HAH-meesh]

haatyc [HAH-teesh]

haryc [HAR-eesh]

hayc [haysh]

hetikleyc [hay-TEEK-laysh]

hettyc [heh-TEESH]

hodayc [HOH-daysh]

hokan'yc [hoh-KAH-neesh]

iviin'yc [ee-VEEN-esh]

jagyc [JAH-geesh]

jaon'yc [jai-OHN-ish]

jari'eyc [JAR-ee-aysh

jatisyc [jah-TEE-seesh]

johayc [JO-haysh]

kotyc [koh-TEESH]

kyr'adyc [keer-AH-deesh]

kyrayc [keer-AYSH]

kyr'yc [KEER-eesh]

laamyc [LAH-meesh]

lararyc [lah-rah-eesh]

majyc [MAH-jeesh]

morut'yc [moh-ROO-teesh]

narseryc [nar-SAIR-eesh]

nayc [naysh]

neduumyc [nay-DOO-meesh]

nehutyc [neh-HOOT-eesh]

nu'amyc [noo-AHM-eesh]

nuhaatyc [noo-HAH-teesh]

ori'beskaryc [OH-ree-bes-KAR-eesh]

ori'jagyc [OH-ree-JAHG-eesh (or OH-ree-YAHG-eesh)]

ori'suumyc [OHR-ee-SOOM-eesh]

oyayc [oy-AYSH]

piryc [PEER-eesh]

ramikadyc [RAH-mee-KAHD-eesh]

ret'yc [RET-eesh]

ruusaanyc [roo-SAHN-eesh]

sapanyc [sah-PAHN-eesh]

shaap'yc [sha-PEESH]

shi'yayc [shee-YAYSH]

shuk'yc [shook-EESH]

shupur'yc [shoo-POOR-esh]

sol'yc [sohl-EESH]

talyc [tahl-EESH]

tomyc [TOH-meesh]

tranyc [TRAH-neesh]

tratyc [TRAH-teesh]

tug'yc [too-GEESH]

ulyc [OO-leesh]

urcir [oor-SEER]

utyc [OO-teesh]

verburyc [vair-BOOR-eesh]

verd'yc [VAIR-deesh]

vutyc [VOOT-eesh]

yaiyai'yc [yai-YAI-eesh]

Note that this is still true when yc occurs in the middle of a word instead of the end:

barycir [bah-REE-shir]

besbe'trayce [BES-beh-TRAYSH-ay]

dirycir [DEER-ee-SHEER]

ke'gyce [keh-GHEE-shay]

majyce [mah-jEE-shay]

majycir [MAH-jeesh-eer]

mar'eyce [mah-RAY-shay]

mureyca [MOOR-aysh-ah]

cy is pronounced as /ʃ/

burc'ya [BOOR-sha]

burcyan [BOOR-shahn]

cyare [SHAH-ray]

cyare'se [shar-AY-say]

cyar'ika [shar-EE-kah]

cyar'tomade [SHAR-toe-MAH-day]

mirshmure'cya [meersh-moor-AY-shah]

murcyur [MOOR-shoor]

oyacyir [oy-YAH-sheer]

Ret'urcye mhi [ray-TOOR-shay-MEE]

sheb'urcyin [sheh-BOOR-shin]

sho'cye [SHOW-shay]

tracy'uur [trah-SHOOR]

Exceptions

The above holds true except for some exceptions:

The first is a group of words with a combination of u + yc:

buyca [BOO-shah]

buy'ce [BOO-shay]

buycika [BOO-she-kah]

This might be related to the status of /ui/ as a diphthong in Mando’a & could be a piece of evidence against it. What do I mean? Well, every instance of ⟨uy⟩ in the dictionary, Traviss breaks up in two syllables /u.i/. Could be there’s no diphthong /ui/ in Mando’a? However, I think it’s more likely this is because Traviss gives the pronunciations with an English orthography (i.e. how an English speaking reader would know to pronounce the words), and there’s no diphthong /ui/ in English, so in order to represent those sounds in English, they have to be broken up in separate syllables.

I also think the long /u:/ in buy’ce etc. is likely simply an elision: try going slowly from /u/ to /i/ to /ʃ/, and you’ll notice it’s easier to slip directly from /u/ to /ʃ/. I would generalise it as the diphthong /ʊɪ/ being realised as /uː/ before palatal consonants (at least; maybe others as well).

and:

buyacir [boo-ya-SHEER] /bʊ.ja.ˈʃiɾ/

Which has no excuse for being irregular except for influence on its spelling from buy’ce, so you could alternatively spell it as buyacyir or pronounce it as /bʊ.ja.ˈsiɾ/ (either would be regular).

The other exception to the rule is:

acyk [AH-seek]

The rule for this could be formulated as “y is the only vowel in a syllable, it’s pronounced as /i/ and the pronunciation of c follows that.” Except for…

tracyn [trah-SHEEN]

Which itself could be analysed as a combination of the above rules: y as an only vowel gets pronounced as /i/, but the consonant in cy is still pronounced as /ʃ/ (in which case it would be acyk that is irregular instead).

It’s the derivations that appear irregular:

tracinya [trah-SHEE-nah]

tracyaat [tra-SHEE-at]

tra'cyar [tra-SHEE-ar]

Tracinya is plainly a derivation of tracyn, just spelled with an i instead of y. Interestingly, in Harlin’s Mando’a tracyn is pronounced as /tra.ʃin/ and tracinya as /tra.sin.ja/. So perhaps it’s acyk which should be pronounced as /a.ʃik/?

I’ve chosen to adjust the pronunciation of the other two to conform to the rule of pronouncing cy as /ʃ/: /tɾa.ˈʃaːt/ & /tɾa.ˈʃaɾ/.

And then:

yacur [YAH-soor]

Idek? I have do idea where this one comes from.

And:

Coruscanta [KOH-roo-SAHN-ta]

which is a loanword and doesn’t count. Although I’d suspect that “Corusanta” might be a fairly common misspelling among native speakers.

Explanation

So why is it pronounced like that? The explanation is something called palatalisation, which is the same reason why c in Latinate words is sometimes pronounced as /k/ and sometimes as /s/.

In very simple terms, the high front vowels and the semivowel /j/ are pronounced such that the tongue is at or very nearly the palatal position. So they tend to pull the preceding consonants to the palatal place of articulation (instead of whichever place of articulation they used to be pronounced at).

So in Mando’a:

c → k

c + high front vowel /i e/ → /s/

c + semivowel /y/ → /ʃ/

Not sure if /k/ is the original value of ⟨c⟩ since this rule doesn’t seem to apply to ⟨k⟩. Maybe ⟨c⟩ had originally another value, which has later changed into /k/?

There will be a second part to this post later, but I’ll break this off here for now.

[cubbihue]

chimmy changa timmy, why do you hate muffins? am I missing some of the lore?

Timmy doesn't like how they taste. No matter who, how or where they're made, the muffins are all the same to him. It's frustrating because he knows they shouldn't be.

And each time he walks away feeling immense disappointment. Like something should've happened.

He does his best to avoid eating them, but, Timmy found that people react weirdly when you say you don't like muffins. So he eats them anyways. He's unfortunately surrounded by muffin-nuts.

Bitties Series: [Start] > [Previous] > [Next]

[xbomboi]

apple: briar, remember when we first became best friends?

briar: only when i’m thinking about where my life went wrong.

[cluescorner]

I cannot imagine being a Damian stan right now. You've got both Zdarsky's bullshit (where he clearly doesn't give a shit about your boy) and The Boy Wonder (where Juni Ba clearly gives so many shits about your boy) coming out on the same day. The whiplash must be insane. I hope y'all get some nice warm soup for your efforts jfc

[batsplat]

following on from this. not to always bring marc into everything (sorry marc) but if assen 2015 had happened against jorge, valentino would have very likely pulled something similar again imo. rather than what he actually did, which is approach marc almost immediately for a nice normal friendly handshake and backing off during the podium celebrations. should be noted that during laguna seca '08, valentino was very much committed to yapping at casey on the podium with the world's biggest smuggest grin on his face

partly that disparity is because jorge not marc was the direct title rival, partly it's because valentino was treating marc with kid gloves right until the second that he wasn't, which marc was seemingly entirely oblivious to. if anyone other than marc had said what he said in that presser, had then continued on with similar rhetoric during sachsenring, valentino would quite likely have gone nuclear. he's done it over less than that. his fondness for marc made him continue to exhibit uncharacteristic restraint... except that fondness unfortunately is what left valentino feeling so very betrayed when (to his eyes) marc could not leave well enough alone

[dootznbootz]

I think some folks MAY have gotten the wrong idea about how I feel about Circe with some of my posts. So, to clear the air...

Homies, I love that fucked up sorceress.

I love how we're never given a reason why she turns people into animals. That's so funny and so awful. And another potion-making magic gal?!?! I love that she's just basically vibing on an island doing whatever she wants. I even love the fact that she scares Odysseus shitless! She's morally gray and that's why she's FUN.

I just sincerely hate when people try to girlboss her or have her be a victim of SA when she never was Looking at you, Miller. Especially when she was actually the one who coerced Odysseus in exchange for his men being transformed back into humans. And even then, while he was clearly afraid of her, (it's in the language of the Odyssey) she likely meant him no harm after a certain point. He just didn't know that.

Why does she need a reason to do awful things? Why can't she just be a goddess who does whatever she wants? That's the reason why I love her!!! She's fucked up!!! :D

I hate what the Telegony did to her as well! >:( You're telling me, this sorceress goddess, who makes potions (!!!) wouldn't have magic contraceptives??? Would WANT CHILDREN?!?! WITH THE PATHETIC WIFEMAN?! No. Fuck no. Eugammon of Cyrene, I have beef with you 🤬

Anyways!!! Understand all the "#anti circe" I have is simply Anti "Girlboss Circe" or the book. I genuinely think she's neat af as her morally gray, fucked up sorceress self and just get frustrated with...everything :'D

[whomeidontknowthem]

Eyes on me – an interactive whump story. Part 5.

Previous part. Masterpost.

Content: institutionalized slavery, imprisonment, dehumanizing language, it/its for an inhuman whumpee, pet whump, whipping, blood, physical abuse, withholding of food, training, torture, intimate whumper, carewhumper, mentioned pet death, tell me if i missed something

Lord Teelo didn’t strike. 

He lowered his arm, eyes never straying from holding the creature’s terrified gaze. The room reeked of blood, now streaming down the lord’s fingers in a warm waterfall. He worked hard on pushing his fury back, taking it under control as many times before. He was in control. He would show it, careful and persistent and levelheaded. He would make sure it remembered the lesson forever. The crop was not meant for punishments, it was too short, too soft – he hadn’t meant to punish it. He was going to be a kind and gracious owner. It had left him no choice!

He opened the door, finding the redheaded guard still in the corridor.

“Get a proper whip,” he ordered. “More chains – gods damned handcuffs, whichever idiot thought of leaving it like this?! And a knife, scissors – or whatever, something to file its atrocious claws.”

The guard stared at him, not in the face – at his arm. Lord Teelo felt it – the consistent drip-drip-drip of his blood. He didn’t feel the ache yet. Nothing but the quiet, cold fury he couldn’t wait to unleash at the world. Haltingly, the guard started, “Should I bring someone to take a look at–”

“I have told you what you should do,” his voice came out as a hiss.

“Yes, my lord,” the guard saluted and hesitated only a moment before running down the corridor. 

Lord Teelo closed the door with a loud crash. He paced inside, steps echoing around the room, as the pain slowly started to radiate out. He hated it. Oh how he wished he could slice the thing’s skin just this moment, not waiting for anything and anyone. He picked up the crop once more, stoped before the creature – it cowered to the very corner between the wall and its cage, never letting its eyes away from him. Oh, now it was looking. It dared to look! 

“You think yourself smart?” the lord hissed. “Think you did something good for yourself? Oh, no, you’re gonna regret this. You’re gonna regret this so much.”

The pain seeped into his consciousness with every heartbeat, radiant and nauseatingly familiar. He held a handkerchief to the cuts until it filled with deep red. He threw it away – it landed in a wet disgusting lump on the table, by the bowl of wet disgusting meat. Oh how the lord had tried to be a nice host, how he had tried to accommodate this, this– 

“Damned, ungrateful, hateful beast!” Lord Teelo roared. The glass of the bowl nearly slipped from his bloodied fingers when he grabbed it, and then shattered to thousands pieces to the side of the creature’s head. Its dinner fell onto the floor, useless. Oh, it wouldn’t get any, it would have to work, to beg for any crumb from then on – it would regret, regret it so much!..

The door slid open soundlessly after a short knock, letting in the heavy footsteps and the clanging of metal. The lord turned on his heels, facing the guard. “And why in the world have you not brought a damned healer!” he hissed. “Can’t you see I’m bleeding out!”

The guard blinked. “But you have–” 

“YOU DARE ARGUE WITH ME?!” 

He was struggling to breathe, chest heaving with effort. The blood was still warm down his arm, still bright on the broken glass and light wood of his floors. How could the idiot not understand!

There were chains in the guard’s arms and a leathery length of the whip. Lord Teelo snatched it and demanded, “Chain it up!” The guard hesitated, opened his mouth. “NOW!” 

He did. The lord watched as he came to the beast, careful with his steps, cautious of it. It squeezed itself deeper into the corner. Lord Teelo could see it shaking. He was delighted to see it shaking. The guard reached out, the first cuff prepared, and Lord Teelo watched from a step away as it lifted its hands up, close to its chest. Its teeth were bared, pupils wide and eyes wider. It tried saying something, but what came out was only a mess of sounds with no meaning. 

The guard squeezed its arm even as it tried to avoid it. It whined and fought back, tried getting out of the grasp, tried pushing him away, tried and fought and struggled as he cursed under his nose. Its claws went through the skin of his palm ripping out a sharp hiss. It managed to raise its hind leg as the cuff clicked around its wrist, its claws scratching against the metal in an effort that only delayed the inevitable. 

Lord Teelo had little patience left. He stepped forward, connecting his heel with the middle of the creature’s tail. It yelped, flinched backwards – its head connected with the wall, and before it could regroup the second handcuff was in place. After that, restraining its legs was only a matter of time.

“Turn it around,” the lord ordered. Chains clang as it fought in an ever increasing panic. “To the wall, yes… yes, just like that.” The locks rattled, forced closed. The guard let the key fall onto the ground, forcing the creature to kneel. It hid its tail between its legs, whining as its head was pressed into the wall. “Is the chain short enough? Will it be able to move?”

“I don’t think so, my lord,” the guard answered. 

Lord Teelo played with the whip, trying it out. “Good. Go fetch the healer– wait. I need – something sharp, something – to secure on its tail. See how it hides it? I need something it can’t hide from.”

The guard looked puzzled. He eased his hold in a test, and the creature threw its whole weight backwards, fighting the chains. They held. Kneeling, with its tail hidden and only back visible, it looked strikingly like a human. “Perhaps clothespins, my lord?” It wasn’t what he had in mind. What he wanted – it wasn’t that. Not this easy, tame solution.

“It would work,” he drew out. He would go to the smith when he had time. He had an idea, oh, that would be a genius idea. “Just this once."

He flexed his left arm and rubbed his right. It hurt as all deaths, but it had stopped bleeding. He failed to crack the whip the first time but managed it the second, inches from the creature’s back. The guard bowed, taking it as a sign to leave. 

The creature mumbled and mumbled more, sounds a meaningless mush falling from its tongue. If Lord Teelo was generous, he could see it as an apology; he would not even entertain the possibility of giving in to it, of course. 

The second crack was right by its ear. It flinched and curled up further but couldn't hide.

It wailed when the whip connected with its back – so loud, so quickly, taken by surprise. Lord Teelo bared his teeth in a smile and struck again, violent purple already flowering on the gray of its skin, and struck again without waiting – three, four, six, twelve hits in a row, as it flinched and writhed and cried out.

He paused afterwards, and saw as it tensed, first, its whole body shaking with the effort of breathing, hiccupping in what sounded almost like sobs. He waited, watching how it trembled more and more. He let it marinate in the anticipation, the fear coiling and coiling with no release, the stinging of its sore back growing as its patience ran thin. 

When it raised its head, just barely, as if to look, the whip snapped through the air again. 

It screamed out. He didn’t give it time to recover. 

The lord hit it with no pattern, pausing and continuing at his leisure, until his arm grew heavy with pain and the creature nearly silent. Lord Teelo could only hear its labored breathing, air forced out of its body with every strike. Its back bloomed with purple that gave way to red when the skin opened, the new lines covering the rainbow pattern in an unstructured, repulsive mess.

Oh, he nearly pitied it, trembling pathetically in the corner. Then he rubbed his arm and the sharp pain was enough to remember why he didn’t. 

He struck for the last time, lazily, with his left, and then a few more for a good measure. When a polite knock announced the guard’s return, he felt pleasantly tired, like after a good work out. He called out for the man to enter. 

The guard did and the healer, an old woman the lord knew for most of his life, followed in. She looked the room over with stony, unreadable expression, and Lord Teelo met her gaze with a nice enough smile. “You’ve got your toy,” she stated and that was all the attention the creature got from her. 

She made a quick enough work of the wounds: cleaned and bandaged them up after applying that miraculous numbing cream the lord appreciated since early childhood. The creature would appreciate it even more, he thought, glancing at the pathetic thing. It had shifted at some point, stretching its legs just a bit but keeping its head hidden. Its body shook violently, trembling so much it in itself looked tiring. 

“Should I look it over?” the healer suggested, all business. 

The lord huffed, “What would the point of a punishment be then?” 

The woman looked him over with that annoying, unreadable gaze. “Call me whenever you change your mind,” she bowed and left when he dismissed her. 

Lord Teelo tried the clothespins with interest, forcing the spring to coil and then letting it go softly around his finger, just a tad, until it started hurting. “Good enough,” he concluded finally and got up. 

The creature flinched when his boots stopped by its form but didn’t try anything. “Poor thing,” he drew out and crouched, ran his fingers along its back lightly, brushing fingertips over the painful ridges of future bruises. Its breaths hitched, but it didn’t make a sound. “And all you needed was to not act like a brainless brat to avoid all this. You have no one but yourself to blame, silly thing,” he told it. It didn’t answer, shivering under his touch but not attempting anything stupid. 

“But maybe you can learn,” he hummed and moved his hand down to where its tail started. It tensed even further, if it was possible at all. “Let’s just make sure the lesson sticks, huh?” It curled up even further as he tagged on its tail, releasing from under the creature’s body. He flickered it back and forth and rubbed between his fingers and was satisfied when it sobbed and shuddered but remained motionless otherwise. 

“Like this, yes,” he muttered. With the softest touch of his second hand, he stoked its head. “But look at me now. Eyes on me,” It didn’t understand. He caught a fistful of its fur and tagged. “Eyes on me.”

Too drained to resist, it lifted its head as he guided it. “Eyes on me,” he demanded again, and it either guessed or truly learned – its gaze settled on him, focusing to the best of its ability – and, oh, what a pathetic mess it looked, eyes bloodshot and wet in ways he’d thought only a human's could be, dark lines from where it pressed into the floorboards marking its cheeks. There was something red around its mouth – did it bite itself, the poor thing? 

Lord Teelo clicked his tongue, smiled softly and released its fur. It settled back instantly, curling up again. Its tail remained in his hands. 

He picked up the first pin. 

It must have assumed at first that he was just playing like he had been, – at least, it didn’t seem to tense up too much, nor expect the sharp pain when he released the spring around its tail. It shuddered, head whipping up, staring at him once again. He smiled. Picked up the second clothespin. 

It tried to get its tail free – oh, it tried as much as it could without hurting him, but he tightened the grasp and played with the pins as it couldn’t help a new whimper, and hushed it and urged it to sit still. “That’s for you to remember the lesson better,” he told it pleasantly. It must have cried, body shaking again, and tried to kick just once, the movement stopped halfway through by a short chain. 

Lord Teelo wondered how many pins would be good for it – should he go with the whole set the guard had brought? He settled on five, at the end, a nice even number not even halfway through what he had. He was feeling rather merciful and forgiving, and it sounded just so pathetic. 

He called the guard in to urge it into the cage when it was done. It didn’t even try fighting, following the man's tagging and pushing until it was inside, drawing its limbs close and curling up to fully fit. Nearly immediately, its fingers itched towards the pins, human-like thumbs ready to work on the problem. Lord Teelo snapped his fingers to get its attention.

“No,” he said, words dripping with finality. He reached through the bars and tagged its tail outside. “The clothespins stay here for the night,” he told it. It probably didn’t understand – there was so little thought in its eyes. He let go of it hoped for its sake it understood what he meant. He didn’t want to have to punish it so soon for their lack of common language. 

When he went to sleep, the shaky breaths and the rare clanging when it tried to settle more comfortable sounded like a lullaby to his ears.

In the morning, his arm stung mercilessly and unendingly, and no melodies of birds and gentle sunrays could make his mood better. He turned lazily, letting his eyes fall onto the cage. The creature was curled inside of it, eyes shut tight and ears flickering restlessly. Its tail fluttered too, freed at some point from the pins, one of its hands curling around it protectively. 

Lord Teelo felt stuck between endearment and irritation. He moved and the cuts on his arm ached, and irritation won. 

“Hey… you,” he called and realized he hadn’t come up with a name. He should think about it as some point, he decided grimly, and banished the thought of the last pet he’d named, back in childhood. That was a just a cat, a stupid spoilt creature with too much attitude. The lord remembered the way it looked, painted red and unmoving, after crossing one too many lines. 

The creature didn’t move at his call, either. He picked up an extinguished candle from his bedside table and threw it towards the cage. “Hey!” 

There was no reaction. With an undignified groan, he forced himself on his feet and towards the cage. He rattled the key across the bars, the way that always seemed to get the creature’s attention.

It didn’t react. It was outright ignoring him! 

Had it learned nothing?!

He reached through the bars and tagged on its tail, finally getting some response in return – it flinched weakly and grimaced. Slowly, its eyes fluttered open, but didn’t settle on the lord. They looked as if through him, unfocused and dizzy, and a pang of worry cut through the just rage when they closed back and its chest heaved, struggling for breath. 

Something was wrong.

He reached through the bars and towards its forehead, forgetting for a second it wasn’t a human. The skin under his fingers was blasting hot and sickly wet. It moved closer to his fingers, all but nuzzling against him. 

Something was terribly, terribly wrong.

Updates every 7-10 days (depending on how much time I have and how obvious the poll result is) (unless something goes wrong and it takes me too weeks to get myself to write something. I'm so very sorry about the delay!)

@isikedmyself878, @fraugustends, @otterfrost, @fuchstastisch, @3-2-whump,

@the-lone-youth, @will-o-the-wips, @catnykit, @granny-aaravos, @mj-or-say10

Tell me to be tagged in the new parts!

[glass-oranges]

Hiiii I made a core picrew if u wanna check that out I think that would be super cool <3

[bunnyboy-juice]

spent the first hour and change at work deleting some old files and am having a grand ol time laughing at myself for not realizing i was a lesbian sooner

[james-spooky]

this is a test

[marcmorrigan]

once again drawing my OCs half-dressed and draped over each other. as you do

OCs: maive (she/her) | seyva (they/them)

[sureuncertainty]

if i have to see one more post about disney from people who don't work here or at least live in the area i'm gonna lose it

[longagoitwastuesday]

Going through the Utahim.e tag had me checking several times if at some point I had clicked on the G.ojo/Utahim.e one instead