#this story has a Very limited audience

[windfighter]

Möt mig i Gamla Stan

Det var ett sammanträffande att de sågs i Stockholm.

Kouji var där och hälsade på en vän efter att ha tagit fotografier uppe i fjällen. Varför Takuya var där visste han inte, men han kunde ana.

”Hatar fotboll”, muttrade Balder och trängde sig fram mellan människorna som stod samlade i baren. ”Varför skulle vi hit av alla ställen?”

Kouji följde efter. Han tyckte han kände igen några av personerna, men det var knäppt, han kände ingen i Stockholm. Förutom Balder.

”Jag gillar den här baren”, svarade han. ”Deras öl är god.”

”Fattar fortfarande inte att du är en öl-drickare.”

Balder vände sig om, händerna i sidorna, och såg på Kouji. Höjde ett ögonbryn.

”Du klagar varje gång vi går hit”, sa han.

Kouji skrattade, la en arm över Balders axlar och förde honom vidare mot bardisken.

”Jag klagar på karaoken, inte ölen. Kom igen, vad vill du ha?”

Balder slet sig loss. Kouji var lite orolig att han skulle tappa bort Balder i folkmängden. Nästan alla där inne var längre än Balder var. Balder satte händerna bakom huvudet.

”Mumin-dricka.”

”Du är en sån unge.”

Balder puttade Kouji innan han tog tag i Koujis hand.

”Fanta. Jag dricker fortfarande inte alkohol.”

Kouji himlade med ögonen.

”Du får nöja dig med Piña Colada.”

”Bara den är alkoholfri.”

Balder släppte Koujis hand och försvann bland folket. Kouji fortsatte till bardisken, beställde deras drinkar och gick för att hitta Balder igen. Det var då han såg honom. Takuya. Mitt i en samling av fotbollsfans. Koujis hjärta slog ett extra slag. Takuya hade inte sett honom. De hade inte setts på två år. Koujis händer skakade, öl spillde från glaset. Takuya hade fortfarande inte sett honom. Det hade varit deras största bråk. Deras slutgiltiga ord.

”Det är slut.”

Skilda vägar. Kouji hade packat sina saker och åkt hem till Japan. Han visste inte vad Takuya hade gjort. Livet gick vidare, jobben fortsatte komma in. Kouji hade knappt tänkt på Takuya.

Bara under nätterna, när det var mörkt och kallt och han var ensam.

Han svalde och slog undan blicken. Letade upp Balder istället. Han satt i ett bås, en av Takuyas lagkamrater bredvid honom, armen över Balders axlar och handen på Balders bröst. Balder såg ut som han skulle dö på platsen och Kouji gick snabbare.

”That’s my partner your flirting with”, sa Kouji när han kom närmare.

Han satte drinkarna på bordet. Balders kinder var röda och Kouji korsade armarna över bröstet. Takuya’s lagkamrat som Kouji inte kom ihåg namnet på flyttade en bit åt sidan och tog bort armen från Balder.

”We can take it outside if you want to”, forsatte Kouji.

Balder sträckte sig efter sin drink, tog en klunk av den. Fotbollaren lyfte händerna och reste sig upp.

”Just thought she looked lonely”, sa han.

”He was just waiting for me.”

”Kan försvara mig själv”, mumlade Balder.

Fotbollaren muttrade några välvalda grova ord på Italienska innan han vände och gick därifrån. Kouji skakade på huvudet och satte sig mitt emot Balder. Balder log osäkert.

”Han var inte så farlig. Jag ville inte vara oartig.”

”Du var obekväm”, Kouji rykte på axlarna. ”...Takuya är här.”

”Huh.”

Balder flyttade sig mot väggen, lutade ryggen mot den och drog upp benen på bänken. Kouji gjorde detsamma.

”Hur känner vi för det?” frågade Balder.

Kouji ryckte på axlarna igen. Han visste inte riktigt. Han drack några klunkar öl och såg ut på folkhavet. Balder tittade mot scenen.

”De tänker köra karaoke”, sa han med ett skratt. ”Ska vi också gå upp?”

”Jag sjunger inte framför folk.”

”Antar att jag inte räknas som folk.”

De tystnade. Lyssnade på människorna omkring dem, personerna som uppträdde. Kouji beställde in en andra öl när hans första tog slut. Takuya sjöng en låt och till och med Balder skakade på huvudet.

”Inte en ton rätt. Jag menar, jag sjunger också hellre än bra men…”

”Takuya har två saker han kan, sjunga är inte en av dem”, sa Kouji med ett skratt.

”Springa och knulla”, svarade Balder och nickade.

Kouji rodnade, sträckte sig över bordet och slog Balder i bakhuvudet. Balder skrattade och de satte sig till rätta och lyssnade vidare igen.

Kouji tittade inte mot Takuya. Han tittade inte mot Takuya med sådan intensitet att Balder märkte det.

”Gå och säg hej.”

”Aldrig i livet. Han kan inte svenska.”

Balder skrattade.

”Fortsätt vara kärlekskrank då. Se om jag bryr mig.”

Balder brydde sig alldeles för mycket och Kouji lät bli att svara. De satt i tystnad. Kouji drack upp sin andra öl. Balder var forfarande inte klar med sin första drink. Takuya sjöng ytterligare en låt och Balder ställde sig upp.

”Jag tänker sjunga nåt.”

”Du kommer dö när du kommer upp på scenen.”

”Finns värre sätt att dö på.”

Balder gick upp på scenen. Kouji beställde en whiskey och lutade sig tillbaka för att lyssna. Balder sjöng lite bättre än Takuya i alla fall. Inte rent, men inte falskt nog för att göra folk döva. Han hade valt Believer av Imagine Dragons och Kouji skakade på huvudet. Han kunde inte förstå varför nån skulle välja att sjunga en låt som betydde så mycket inför en sån här publik.

Å andra sidan kunde han inte riktigt förstå varför varför man skulle upp och sjunga inför publik till att börja med.

Balder avslutade sin sång och bugade för publiken, som skrattade och applåderade, innan han gick tillbaka till båset Kouji satt i. Kouji höjde sitt glas.

”För ett lyckat uppträdande”, sa han.

Balder höjde sitt eget glas.

”Yeah, sure. Skål för ett lyckat uppträdande.”

Han satte sig ner och tog ett par klunkar av Piña Coladan. Funderade. Kouji ville inte veta vad Balder funderade på, men var rätt säker på att Balder skulle avslöja det vilken sekund som helst. Kouji hade rätt.

”Du borde också sjunga nåt”, föreslog Balder. ”Det är kul.”

Kouji övervägde, men svarade inte, och Balder släppte samtalet. De drack sina drinkar, lyssnade på andra som sjöng och pratade om djuren de hade sett på Skansen under dagen. Kouji undvek fortfarande att titta mot Takuya.

Men alkohol gjorde något med folk. Fick deras hämningar att släppa, fick ljuset att se lite annorlunda ut, musiken att låta varmare, människorna mjukare. Kouji var inte immun. Balder såg mot honom, som om han visste vad som höll på att hända. En del av Kouji visste också, men han ville inte erkänna det. Hans drink tog slut och han reste sig upp. Kroppen kändes varm, nervös. Som om han skulle spricka om han inte…

Men Takuya var omringad. Om de visste vem Takuya var eller om de bara blivit charmade av honom kunde Kouji inte avgöra. Takuya hade den effekten på folk. Det var inte därför det hade tagit slut, Kouji hade aldrig känt sig åsidosatt, avundsjuk eller igorerad. De hade båda behov den andra inte kunde fylla, men de hade alltid kommit tillbaka till varandra. Alltid redo att släppa allt för den andra.

Kouji kunde knappt komma ihåg vad som hade varit spiken i kistan den här gången. Takuya hade sagt nånting. En mening som hade förändrat allt, men bara för att Kouji hade låtit den. Koujis händer skakade och han gick mot bardisken. Men hans väg bytte riktning, hans fötter förde honom mot scenen. Hans steg ekade högt i hans öron när han gick upp på den. Takuya såg mot honom och han såg på Takuya för första gången på kvällen. Takuyas ögon vidgades, förvåning över att se Kouji där. Men det var ingen ilska i dem, ingen besvikelse, ingen sorg.

Vilka känslor syntes i Koujis ögon? Han hoppades Takuya kunde se dem, hoppades Takuya missade dem. Han tog tag i mikrofonen, svalde och tog ett djupt andetag. Musiken började, texten på skärmen ovanför scenen. Koujis hjärta slog dubbla slag och han började sjunga.

”Smaken av kyssar som dröjer kvar, dröjer kvar. Luften vibrerar av du och jag, du och jag här.”

Kouji försökte titta på allt utom Takuya, men plötsligt var Takuya det enda som existerade i hela världen. Koujis blick var fast, som klistrad. Hans röst darrade, tog tonerna snett på ett sätt han inte brukade. Takuya sa nånting till en a personerna han var med, till en av sina lagkamrater. Koujis kinder var heta.

”Jag behöver dig! Möt mig i Gamla Stan nu ikväll, nu ikväll. Jag väntar i Gamla Stan, behöver dig hos mig ikväll.”

Hans mage värkte, slog kullerbyttor. En drink för många, rädsla. Vad skulle Takuya säga, göra, känna? Kouji visste inte ens vad han själv kände.

”Rädslan jag bar är sen länge död, länge död.”

Två år hade han haft på sig att smälta Takuyas önskan, förslag. Det som hade ändrat allt. Han var redo att testa nåt nytt, att ta ansvar på en ny nivå, så länge Takuya var vid hans sida. Han hoppades att det inte bara var alkoholen som fick honom att känna så, att han inte skulle ändra sig när morgonen kom.

”Stoppa en taxi, kapa ett tåg eller spring allt du orkar hit, bara ta dig hit. Möt mig i Gamla Stan, nu ikväll.”

Takuya gick närmare scenen. Kouji’s mage kändes tung, hans kinder brann. Vad skulle han säga? Vad skulle Takuya säga? Skulle de börja om igen, skrika, kyssas, älska? Hata? Kouji tog ett steg bakåt. Varför gick han upp på scenen?

”Som en skugga av den jag trott jag va’, nu börjar jag förstå, jag behöver dig.”

Koujis röst darrade. Han tog ett fastare grepp om mikrofonen. Hans hand darrade också. Takuya stannade. Såg på honom. Kouji sjöng refrängen, outrot. Folk applåderade, hurrade, och Takuya gick mot scenen igen. Kouji backade. Släppte mikrofonen och flydde.

--------

Kouji disappeared. Away from the stage, into the crowd and out. Takuya tried to hurry after him, but hands grabbed at him, held him back.

”I don’t have time”, he said. ”I need to…”

”Where are you going, handsome?”

Takuya broke free, but someone else grabbed him. It was useless. Kouji had probably gone up in smoke by now if Takuya knew him. Two years without a word, then this. Takuya let out a sigh. It was his fault, he shouldn’t have said anything. But Junpei and Izumi had seemed so happy with their kids and Takuya always spoke before he thought.

”When are we getting some?” he had asked. Like an idiot, and Kouji had exploded. And Takuya exploded. And then it was over. Kouji deserved better and Takuya hadn’t tried to hunt him down, contact him, reach out. But the nights had been lonely, the days had been cold.

A hand grabbed Takuya’s and dragged him towards the door.

”He’s a fucking idiot”, the owner of the hand said. ”Bet you don’t even know where Gamla Stan is.”

Takuya shook his head. The handowner shook theirs.

”Absolute idiots. The both of you. He’ll be at the harbor, probably thinking about joining one of the ships.”

Takuya was pulled into the night. His jacket still left inside. He wouldn’t see that one again he guessed.

”This street down to the water, then to the left. He’ll be easy to miss.”

They gave him a shove. Takuya turned towards them.

”Who are you?”

”Balderdash, my friends call me Balder. You may call me Your Majesty.”

Takuya snorted. Balder put a hand over his face and shook it.

”Go. He’s waiting for you.”

[a/n: If I knew Japanese I’d change the language AGAIN here, but alas I do not so English it is]

Takuya went. The night was warm. Loud. Lots of people still out and about. It was the middle of July, the height of summer. There had been a friendly game of football between Sweden and Japan, which Sweden had lost, and which was the reason Takuya was in Sweden. The thought of meeting Kouji there? Hadn’t even crossed his mind. Why would Kouji be in Sweden of all places?

But Kouji was here. Waiting for him, if Balder was right. Takuya hurried his steps, down the street, too the water. The water was still, a few boats crossing it. Takuya turned left and started running. Would he recognize the harbor? Boats were parked all along the sidewalk and he felt like he was already there.

The sidewalk got wider, opened up to almost look like a townsquare. There was a statue in the middle of it, a shadowy figure next to it. Looking out at the boats, shifting their weight from one foot to the other. Takuya slowed his steps. Kouji. What was he going to say? What would Kouji said? Kouji turned towards him, hands in his pockets, and Takuya stopped.

”...Didn’t know you knew Swedish”, he said.

”It doesn’t come up in conversation often”, Kouji answered.

He seemed nervous. Kicked the ground. Takuya put his hands in his pockets.

”I don’t know Swedish though”, he said.

Kouji laughed, but it died out again.

”I shouldn’t have”, he said. ”I’m a bit drunk.”

Silence. It seemed to stretch into eternity. Takuya scratched his arm.

”Sorry”, he said. ”I shouldn’t have… I should have thought before I spoke.”

He wasn’t sure Kouji remembered the fight, what had led up to it, but Kouji shook his head.

”I shouldn’t have shot it down”, Kouji answered.

He walked over to a edge of the harbor, sat down. Takuya sat down next to him. A swan crossed the water, disappeared under a bridge. They had never been nervous around each other before. Takuya didn’t like it, but what if he scared Kouji away for another 2 years?

”I never needed a kid to be happy”, Takuya said. ”I was happy with you. With how everything worked between us.”

”Yeah…” Kouji looked at the water. ”Did you mean it though? Did you want one?”

Takuya considered. He wasn’t sure. It had always been a goal in life. Get married, have kids, be a good member of society. Junpei and Izumi seemed to enjoy it. The kids were great. Takuya looked at his hands.

”I should, shouldn’t I?” he asked.

”We never did what we should”, Kouji answered.

He was right. Kouji was always right. Takuya looked at the sky instead. Cloudy, the moon peeking out between the clouds.

”I think I do”, he said. ”Eventually, when my career has calmed down. Or if you stay at home for longer. Not right now, but later.”

”I don’t think I would be a good parent”, Kouji said. ”I don’t know how to.”

”I’m not sure anyone knows.”

Silence again, but this time it felt calmer. A cloud covered up the moon and someone walked past behind them, singing loudly into the night.

”What does this mean for us?” Takuya asked.

”I don’t know”, Kouji said. ”I’ve missed you. If you want to have kids… I could try?”

Takuya shook his head.

”No, I… don’t mind never getting kids. It’s fine. If you don’t want kids…”

”Not right now”, Kouji said. ”I’m not ready, if I’ll ever be.”

”That’s fine.”

Takuya stood up, held a hand out to Kouji.

”Are you coming back home?” he asked.

”I’ve got a trip to Finland coming up”, Kouji stood up as well. ”Maybe after that.”

”That’s all I ask for”, Takuya answered.

He grabbed Kouji’s hand, pulled him closer and got up on his toes, kissed him. Kouji wrapped his free arm around Takuya.

”I’ll see you at home then”, Takuya said.

Kouji smiled. Let go of Takuya and nodded.

”I’ll see you at home.”

He left. Takuya watched as Kouji walked along the harbor, crossed a street and disappeared among the bushes and trees of Kungsträdgården. He felt lighter. Kouji was his again. He smiled and made his way back to the hotel. The world was brighter, the moon once again peeking through the clouds, and the future was once again shining.

[loregoddess]

I deeply, deeply did not like animation when I was in it or when I was inevitably forced to do it, but I do think everyone should try animating at least once. I came away with a much deeper understanding and appreciation for why so many cartoon characters only have 4-3 fingers and extremely simplified designs

[iamthedukeofurl]

Scott Pilgrim is, I think, the best example I can think of for establishing a setting's Nonsense Limit. The setting's Nonsense Limit isn't quite "How high-fantasy is this". It's mostly a question of presentation, to what degree does the audience feel that they know the rules the world operates by, such that they are primed to accept a random new element being introduced. A setting with a Nonsense Limit of 0 is, like, an everyday story. Something larger than life, but theoretically taking place in our world, like your standard spy thriller action movie has a limit of 1. Some sort of hidden world urban fantasy with wizards and stuff operating in secret has a nonsense limit around 3 or 4. A Superhero setting, presenting an alternate version of our world, is a 5 or 6. High fantasy comes in around a 7 or so, "Oh yeah, Wizards exist and they can do crazy stuff" is pretty commonly accepted. Scott Pilgrim comes in at a 10. If you read the Scott Pilgrim book, it starts off looking like a purely mundane slice of life. The first hint at the fantastical is Ramona appearing repeatedly in Scott's Dreams, and then later showing up in real life. When we finally get an explanation, it's this:

Apparently Subspace Highways are a thing? And they go through people's heads? And Ramona treats this like it's obscure, but not secret knowledge. Ramona doesn't think she's doing anything weird here. At this point, it's not clear if Scott is accepting Ramona's explanation or not, things kind of move on as mundane as ever until their Date, when Ramona takes Scott through subspace, and he doesn't act like his world was just blown open or anything, although I guess that could have been a metaphor. there's a couple other moments, but everything with Ramona could be a metaphor, or Scott not recognizing what's going on. Maybe Ramona is uniquely fantastical in this otherwise normal world. And then, this happens

Suddenly, a fantastical element (A shitty local indie band finishing their set with a song that knocks out most of the audience) is introduced unrelated to Ramona, and undeniably literal. We see the crowd knocked out by Crash and The Boys. but the story doesn't linger on the implications of that, the whole point of that sequence is to raise the Nonsense Level, such that you accept it when This happens

Matthew Patel comes flying down onto the stage, Scott, who until this point is presented as a terrible person and a loser, but otherwise is extremely ordinary, proceeds to flawlessly block and counter him before doing a 64-hit air juggle combo. Scott's friends treat this like Scott is showing off a mildly interesting party trick, like being really good at darts. The establish that Scott is the "Best Fighter in the Province", not only are street-fighter battles a thing, Scott is Very Good at it, but they're so unimportant that being the best fighter in the province doesn't make Scott NOT a loser. So when Matthew Patel shows off his magic powers and then explodes into a pile of coins, we've established "Oh, this is how silly the setting gets". It's not about establishing the RULES of the setting so much as it is about establishing a lack of rules. Scott's skill at street-fighter battles doesn't translate to any sort of social prestige. Ramona can access Subspace Highways and she uses it to do a basic delivery job. It doesn't make sense and it's clear that it's not supposed to. So later on, when Todd Ingram starts throwing around telekinesis, and the explanation we're given is "He's a Vegan" , you're already so primed by the mixture of weirdness and mundanity that rather than trying to incorporate this new knowledge into any sort of coherent setting ruleset, you just go "Ah, yeah, Vegans".

[3hks]

CORRECTLY Writing "Morally Gray" Characters

Want to write a hot, cool, and bad character but DON'T want he/she to come across as toxic, downright bad, or, god forbid, cringe? Well, I've got a couple of tips that may help you create exactly what you want!

1. Softness

Okay, yes we want this character to be tough and cool, but there also needs to be a certain softness, no matter how small, that comes with them. If there's someone that your character prioritizes or cares about, there has to be a point or two that it shows--a moment where they're soft only for the people that they care about. Why? Because this establishes the humanity in them. It shows the readers that your character IS human, not an emotionless monster.

2. Goals

Key to any good characters are their goals. The thing is, for this type of a character, their objectives can't be so random. They need a reason for their actions, and it needs to be valid. Usually, this is reasoned out by some kind of past epiphany, which is crucial because without it, your character doesn't have anything solid backing up their goals. We need to see where they're coming from.

Bad decisions, but for an understandable reason.

Establishing their morals is important for nearly the same reason.

Now, why is this important? Because it can pull readers to their side. As long as they understand the cause, they have a chance to follow your character's side, increasing their likeability!

3. Neutrality

Notice how this is a "morally gray" character, not a "completely evil" one. Why does this matter? Well, a trait people tend to overlook when writing these characters is the morally gray, or neutral, part. It's important to just occasionally show that your character is walking the fine line and in my opinion, a great way to achieve this is to have them help the protagonist out (instead of always fighting against them) one, or even two times!

4. Positive Characteristics

This is a very simple one, but make sure to depict a couple positive qualities (besides just being hot) of your character! Like my first point, it's pivotal to illustrate that they have some humanity, and this is an easy and great way!

Throw in a few good characteristics (I have a post with some examples of redeeming qualities for villains if you need some help), and let it show that they are still respectable!

5. Backstory

I believe that with certain characters that play certain roles in the story, explaining their backstory is a NEED for them; and this character type is no different! Introducing even a bit of their past can get the audience interested in your character. It also allows for better understanding of them and shows how they changed over time.

6. CONFIDENCE

Be confident in your skills when writing this character! To many, the idea of "cringeness" makes them second-guess how they should write. In reality, it's better to write it however you wish, because if you're confident in one moment and clearly less in another, the readers are able to sense any unexpected changes in things in your character's tones, expressions, and actions.

It's important to keep your character in, well, character. Still, there's going to be a few moments that break it, but it shouldn't be in any unnatural way.

If your character is flirty, then let them act flirty. If they mess around a lot, then let them mess around. Don't limit their actions or words just because you think some people might find it cringe!

Alright, that's it for me! What do you think? Are they valid or unreasonable?

Happy writing~

3hks <3

[petermorwood]

A day or so ago, @dduane reblogged a long post - a Canadian magazine article from 1966 - about the Americanisation of Winnie the Pooh.

It's an Impressive Tirade in which the writer (Sheila H. Kieran) says what she thinks about letting Walt Disney have a free hand with a foreign Children's Classic.

There's mention of the previous Adaptation Endeavour, "Mary Poppins" (1964) but it's very brief, perhaps with an eye to limited column space - or maybe because All Was Said Already in a previous review.

There is, however, rather a lot about the English characters being given American accents, and about the inclusion of a new character, an American gopher (which, the article suggests, looked vague enough to the Kieran children - its target audience - that it might as well have been a mole or a beaver).

*****

And that reminded me of another bit of American Animalisation done by Disney, in the 1949 short "The Wind and the Willows" - though in this instance it's visual since the voices are, for the most part, suitably British.

They include Basil Rathbone as narrator, and a horse who sounds like George Formby. In some scenes the horse actually looks like Formby, so this voice may not be entirely accidental.

Badger, however, sounds like a Scotsman - the worst kind of stage Scotsman at that - rather than how I used to "hear" him as a C. Aubrey Smith-voiced crusty retired colonel.

That, however, is just personal preference.

However, Disney's Badger is not a proper British (more correctly, European) badger, Meles meles. Here's one, which though not the most amiable of beasts in reality, still manages to look fairly affable ("I say, old chap, whatever are you looking at?")

Instead he's a North American badger, Taxidea taxus, which not only has a less affable expression ("Hey, bud, you. Yeah, you. You lookin' at me? You lookin' at ME?") but, more important, different stripes.

Here's Disney's version alongside mine. The correction took about five minutes of pixel-tweaking.

Disney's animators could have got it right from the outset just as easily, because I'm pretty sure the reference library which provided costume info for Rat's tweed Norfolk jacket and britches included picture-books of natural history.

Come to that, any "The Wind in the Willows" after the unillustrated first edition would have been enough, and there must have been at least one copy lying around for story adaptation and scene-description purposes.

The first illustrated edition came out in the UK in 1931, and its artist was, at author Kenneth Graham's request, the very same E.H. Shepard who had illustrated the Pooh books just a few years previously...

...while this Arthur Rackham colour plate is from an edition published in 1940 in New York.

So those books wouldn't have been impossible for Disney to get.

The problem, however, is that if a word ("badger", for instance) is well known to mean one thing here, it may be Too Much Trouble to find out if the same word means something else there, with the result that finding out can sometimes come as rather a surprise.

Check the UK / US meaning of "suspenders" to see what I mean... ;->

[celestialtarot11]

what can indicate someone making a lot of money in their career?

Signs for making 💰

Sag sun—always working multiple jobs, having multiple interests. May be into stocks, trading, engineering, software engineering, marketing. May be into tourism.

Capricorn venus, Capricorn moon—Always working and grinding. Networks easily. But I notice with these placements they may go on to start a side job earlier than getting a full time job. That full time job may come later depending on aspects to the moon. Has a superseding reputation for their determination and professionalism.

For example capricorn moon aspecting saturn has had jobs come in later to their life. May not have had their first job until 20 and onward. They may have been working on a side hustle the entire time.

Jupiter 1h, Jupiter 10h—Success follows these individuals. Career opportunities opened themselves up to them. The more the native works on their mindset they become a manifesting success story! Though don’t be fooled these individuals have had to work on themselves immensely.

Venus asp jupiter—Cash flows in. Though with this placement the native can spend just as easily and create just as much as they lost. (Trine, sextile, conj.)

Venus 5h—makes money off of doing what they love! Most definitely has a side hustle alongside their job.

Aquarius, sun moon, rising—also can be known for their unique side hustles. May be into designing clothes of their own, making music, but there’s something so fleshed out and distinct about their side hustle people are attracted to. May have a blog, make music,

Gemini venus, sun, moon—very multifaceted in their skills. Almost everywhere and nowhere at once with how busy they are. Paired with Leo: they may have a high position in their community and attract a lot of people. It creates the perfect audience for them to sell to! May crochet or sell handmade items!

Leo sun, rising—Has a knack for presenting themselves in any community. Does well with meeting new people to gain new opportunities and experiences. Likable energy. Most likely to own a vlog, or a blog where they can talk and share their stories. Makes money off of being themselves. Very hardworking individuals and determined!

Scorpio rising—Works in silence, keeps their success limited to people who celebrate it. Highly successful, looked up to, and is intelligent with their finances. Knows how to save. They are a fixed sign so once they see something in their mind they will not stop until they manifest success!

Capricorn/saturn dom—knowing how to budget and is successful because of their ability to save money. Not just their job!

Libra moon/rising—May work in a job requiring long travels, be in a position where income is higher. They’re beauty and brains. Some men are construction workers with this placement and make a hell of a lot of money. If moon is in the 12h they’re more likely to travel long distances. Can become models, nurses, doctors.

Cancer 10h, libra moon, libra venus—Can work in home renovation, be a real estate agent. Makes a ton of money off of bringing in clients. If they have aspects to mercury, gemini, exalted mercury, they can talk anyone into buying a home or service.

Libra moon—may also know someone who offers them a higher paying job.

Saturn 3h—Very skilled individuals. Disciplined and goal oriented. Slow and steady wins the race. Takes their time to learn new skills in their career thus making them knowledgeable. Whereas their coworkers tend to gloss over—no these individuals tend to stay late hours and put in more effort. Had a huge chance of being recognized and moving up in their position.

Taurus 2h—Check where venus is placed. If making an aspect to jupiter, moon, the native can become financially successful. (Trine, sextile, conj)

Jupiter 2h—Controversial perspective but a lot of these natives feel as though they have enough money to get by. It just somehow comes in when they need it. Same for sag ruling 2h.

Virgo mercury, virgo 2h—Can be concerned with spending habits and analyze them. May budget a lot and try different methods for saving. Has a critical eye for finances. May make a monthly spreadsheet! Can be into nursing as well.

Venus 10h—If the benefic is positively aspected it’ll bring lots of success to the natives career. Chance to become widely known for their work. Their charm and interpersonal skills leas to success.

Aries sun—Competitive in the career field. Sun is exalted here so these natives truly want to be the best they can be. Authoritative, determined in their work. Grinds a lot. Similar to Capricorn but more extroverted. Passionate, enthusiastic, and it drives them to make great connections in their career.

Sun 6h—Brilliant ideas, determined and structured. Puts in energy to their work. Day to day activities yield long term results. Their determination is what really gets them there. Has a great relationship with their coworkers and bosses if positively aspected.

[viewerspookyhappenings]

okay buckle up chuckle fucks here is everything i remember from tonight (absolutely missing some stuff)

- before dan comes on he introduces himself over the speaker stating that he asked phil to do it and phil said no because he didn’t want to be sat behind a curtain for an hour

- dan comes on stage and stands in the big church plinth thing (iconic)

- he tells a story about how he went to a&e the day before yesterday because he had sore eyes. says phil was trying to get him to put eye drops in but he was being very dramatic so whilst on the phone to 111 phil knelt over him lying on the bathroom floor holding his eyes open to put drops in. dan then went to hospital to check it and everything’s fine (lol) he just needed some special eyedrops. phil did not accompany him and dan had to cross a dual carriageway on his own whilst not being able to see well (i doubt he will ever let it go)

- here is a diagram i drew on the way home to depict said event

- it is also giving this

- spoke about the butt chair. union chapel said they did not have any furniture for him to borrow so he had to bring his own - he bought the butt chair from his bedroom and a lil plant to decorate. said phil carried the plant to the car but made dan get the chair in the uber and then said “okay have fun at work sweetie” (this was said jokey but we died nonetheless)

- he then talks about pissyourselffordan trending and how he had to explain to harper collins what the actual fuck was happening on stan twt. apparently they were glad the fans were supportive and he has an engaged audience but they were not going to use the hashtag in the promo. called the whole scenario pissgate and the crowd chanted piss at him

- he was told there was wine and advertised wine before realising alcohol was not allowed in the church. he then got given a sprite and everyone screamed that it was piss

- talked about the book and the previous release, how weird covid was, talked about the photoshoot for the book cover and the graphic design. said he didn’t love the pics because they were super dramatic. someone shouted “it’s cunty” he replies: “oh it’s cunty is it?” then realises he said cunty in a church which was a big lol

- he then read the new chapters, several mentions of phil not being supportive and abandoning him at the hospital (he talked about phil a lot it was very sweet)

- then brought out dan’s slit (box used to put questions in before the show)

- the questions i can remember include but are not limited to:

- what was the weirdest position you wrote the book in: “cheeks out in an armchair curled up over my laptop, you might think your scrolling posture is okay now but when you hit thirty you will all be broken”

- fave comfort show: “the office - is the office a bit millennial? it isn’t as millennial as friends. ross being offended by a manny? that’s where my internalised homophobia is from”

- how has the gaming channel affected your mental health? A: he is finding it a lot more sustainable than before because of help with editing, but will see where it goes

- will he ever judge drag race: he didn’t want to when he was asked because he didn’t want to be exposed to more speculation about his sexuality at the time, same with strictly come dancing

- how do you cope with feeling lonely whilst surrounded by people: talked about how online friends are truly real friends and distance doesn’t have to determine friendship levels. says it is important to notice the friendships even that aren’t close

- i can’t remember the question but he said that phil has to remind him of some of the stuff that is in ywgttn when he struggles “i literally learnt the word catastrophising from your book dan come on”

- another tour? “do you guys want that” *screaming* “what would it be?” *dan and phil games screams* “well 👀👀”

- are we going to get more sister daniel: *everyone loses their minds* “maybe i should have done it for the church but it is far too exposing under the spotlight”

- did you work in the asda in Lower Earley: “what in the baby reindeer? yes i did”

- then went to the insta questions that were too inappropriate for the audiobook including

- piss

- will you wear wigs

- when will you wear wigs

- how long is your big toe “six centimetres - i don’t have a big toe im just a long person”

- pee pee poo poo time

- what were the other names for the book: “you will get through this was a bit cliche, you will get through this night? she is sexy and mysterious. at first we wanted to call it “you are messed up read this to fix your issues” but then realised the book was more serious in tone after it was finished so went with ywgttn instead”

- i genuinely can’t remember most of these i think i dissociated a lil at this point if anyone remembers please add

- then read the author’s note at the end of the paper back, talking about how lockdown impacted him and was a big scary thing and also how incredible it is to see people recommend it, find it useful, have therapists recommend it etc. “it is an honour to have created this”

- took a selfie with everyone

- someone gave him a bouquet of flowers and he said “aww you guys are so gay”

- then said “if you enjoyed seeing me in person… i’ll see you again very soon”

this is everything i remember off the top of my head so people please feel free to add what i have forgotten!!

and here are all the pics i got!!

[twilightkitkat]

Everyone knows that Deadpool can break the 4th wall. It's a large part of his charm: being able to directly address the audience and make popculture references that don't exist in the MCU.

It's a common gag in fanfiction for Logan to be slightly weirded out by this but to just let it go.

But can we talk about the implications of knowing about 4th wall? The potential?

Imagine Wade, knowing that he's trapped inside a story that nobody else is aware of. Knowing that his fate is in the hands of the storywriters and that if he doesn't perform well for the audience, his universe could cease to exist. Knowing that he's just a character and being completely alone in that knowledge.

Knowing that he's played by an actor. Knowing that nothing is really in your control. Knowing how your fate rests in the hand of corporations and money. (Knowing nobody is safe as long as they can be used to further your character development.)

He knows that there's a plot and the general rules of it. He knows that The Conflict can't be resolved that easily and when the end of the movie is coming. He knows how to tell narrative death flags.

He partially makes references to keep the audience engaged (to keep his existence renewed) and partially because it's funny to see everyone confused over a joke only he gets.

But every reference is trying to see if anyone else knows, too. He's throwing out the bait. (Trying to see if anyone knows that the world they're living in is fake.)

And everyone sees him as crazy for it. Schizophrenic, manic, insane. (And maybe he is. It's not like he can prove it to anyone.)

Wade assumes things about the world and they're generally correct. He knows the rules of the game, knows the writers, and has a razor-sharp intuition that has his allies questioning him sometimes (he knows popular tropes).

And so, when he realized that he was in a movie with Logan, he made a lot of assumptions. That they would have to work together. That they'd overcome their differences and grow closer.

But most importantly, he assumed the limits. Disney wouldn't make an openly gay character, would they? Deadpool is fine because he's a joke but Wolverine would never be seriously gay, even if he was queer in the comics.

So he sees it as safe to flirt and joke because it wasn't going anywhere. Being gay was funny to the target audience, but that was it. It'd never be taken seriously in a superhero movie. (Especially with characters as popular as Deadpool and Wolverine.)

Wade was either getting Vanessa or nothing. That was how the story was written.

So he never takes Logan's feelings seriously. He cared about him in a very family-friendly bro kind of way and that was it. He doesn't even consider the idea of romance. He jokingly flirts and spews innuendos, but they never went anywhere. Wouldn't go anywhere. Ever.

And Logan is confused because he thought Wade was attracted to him, yet he keeps brushing him off as friendly when he tries to be sincere. He one time legitimately shared a bendy heart straw with him by Wade's request and Wade just played it off as a bit.

And also, Wade keeps making references he doesn't understand. That nobody understands. And he'd chalk it up to saying random shit except Logan starting paying attention and it's all oddly cohesive and creates a singular story. It ties together in ways that complete nonsense doesn't.

And that's leaving out Wade's "intuition." How he makes comments about "tropes" and "cliches" like they're in a movie except that he ends up being right. Almost every time. It's like he can predict the future, but in a vague yet oddly specific way. Like he can see how things are going to go.

And sometimes, when Wade thinks Logan isn't paying attention, he notices how he mutters to himself in dread. And how something bad almost always happens after.

It makes him disturbed and painfully, achingly curious. What was Wade seeing that he wasn't? It could be that Wade was a secret prodigy, but that didn't seem to be the case? Some of this was too specific and far-fetched.

(All while Wade laments over the lack of agency in his own life, subject to the currents of the story while being painfully aware of it. He couldn't live a life of blissful ignorance like everyone else. It's like he saw a tsunami hurdling toward him—even if he ran away at full speed, the plot always caught up to him somehow.

Trust him. He'd tried to outrun it.)

[literaryvein-reblogs]

Writing Notes: Magic Systems

Magic - change wrought through unnatural means

Most fantasy can be placed along a spectrum where there are 3 main points: soft magic at one end, hard magic at the other, and a middle ground between the two.

Soft Magic

Magic that is not well-defined for the reader.

Generally, we don’t understand where the magic comes from, who can use it, or what its limitations are.

Readers can see this type of magic being used.

But they can never anticipate when magic will be used in the plot because they can’t begin to guess how it works.

You can’t break a rule if the rules don’t exist!

Most stories that feature this system will have the magic users be secondary characters, allowing them to avoid explaining exactly how the magic works.

It’s also argued that without knowing everything about the magic, it tends to hold more wonder and excitement for readers.

Hard Magic

Has very rigid boundaries.

Readers know where the magic comes from, how it’s used, who uses it, and what its boundaries and limitations are.

We know the limitations of the characters and can understand why they can’t simply magic themselves out of any particular challenge.

Stories with hard magic systems do not need to avoid the main character being a magic-wielder, as they have the capacity to explain to the reader what is going on.

A lot of writers this system because it gives them very explicit guidelines to follow in their plot and creates some more satisfying pay-offs for readers.

The Middle Ground

The meeting point between the soft and hard systems.

We might understand a bit about the way the magic works, but not all our questions are answered.

While most of the content adheres to rules, these rules aren’t fully explored.

This system relies on the reader’s suspension of disbelief.

The main character can be a magic-wielder or not, and it’s up to the writer to determine when magic will be used in terms of plot.

How to Choose a System

You can and should use these guiding principles to build your magic system. Remember that you don’t have to choose one or the other. Your system can draw from aspects of both. Just stay aware of the weaknesses of the path you choose, and ensure you utilize its strengths.

Use a hard magic system if:

You are going to use magic to solve problems

Your audience is accustomed to the tropes of hard magic

You are okay with jumping through hoops to expand your system

Your magic doesn’t convey a theme

Use a soft magic system if:

You want to convey a theme through magic

You want to create a sense of wonder

You want the ability to expand easily

You want to be accessible to a broader audience

Your magic won’t regularly be used to solve problems

Branches of Magic

Like most writing processes, there isn’t really a correct place to begin designing a magic system. A common, and efficient, place to start, however, is by choosing what type of magic system(s) you wish to employ, such as:

Nature-based magic: water, earth, fire, air, and everything in between

Divination magic: see beyond sight and peer through time and space

Conjuring magic: move objects through space over any distance

Psychic magic: master the world of the mind

Life and death magic: tap into the very forces of life, death, and un-death with this surprisingly versatile collection

Animal- or creature-exclusive magic: some creatures just do it better

Magitech systems: the blurring lines of sorcery and science give magic a next-gen, high-tech flair

Eclectic magic: it doesn’t have to be “real” magic to have a real effect

Uncommon magic systems: the unsung heroes of fantasy magic

AALC Method

How to create your own magic system using the AALC (Appearance, Abilities, Limits & Cost) Method

Appearance

What the magic looks like

Makes the world feel more exotic

Can cause problems for characters but cannot solve them

Usually tied to a character arc

Abilities

What the magic does

Points calculated based on magical effect, range, number of people affected, and duration

Characters have a finite amount of fuel (mana) to use abilities

More powerful abilities require more fuel

The fuel does not have to be overt for the audience to understand

If points not overt, cannot solve conflicts unless a cost system is added

Limits

Unlimited uses of magical abilities

Abilities stratified in codified levels defined by their limits

The more the levels' abilities and limits are known by the audience, the more they can be used to solve conflicts

Focused on clever uses of abilities against stronger foes

Cost system can be added to enhance dramatic moments

Cost

Costs must be greater than or equal to abilities to make them dramatically satisfying

Costs can include time, exhaustion, materials, sanity, morality, etc.

Adds dilemma to magic by forcing characters to make choices

The greater the character's sacrifice, the more audience satisfaction at conflict resolution

Each system builds on the previous ones, so that Cost Systems use all four, while Point Systems only care about Abilities and Appearance.

Multiple systems can exist within the same story, and systems can harden over the course of the story.

The Force, for instance, has been a Soft, Point, Level, and Cost System depending on who wrote it at the time.

SOFT SYSTEMS (Appearance Only)

Window Dressing - magic for secondary characters; can instigate conflict but cannot solve it; e.g., Gandalf

Soft Villain - No explanation or upper limits needed; makes villains more powerful to make heroes greater underdogs; e.g., The Emperor

Chosen One - Unknown power keeps hero safe throughout story; can be considered plot armor unless earned through character arc

Sort Hero Incomplete - Curse or positive ability the character cannot control; hero still learning limits of ability at story's end; powers and arc continued in next adventure

Soft Hero Complete - Hero embraces ability to complete arc and solve main conflict; magic must become harder in subsequent adventures

POINT SYSTEMS (Appearance + Abilities)

Points Opaque - Non-explicit reservoir of energy fuels powers; cannot solve main problems without cost option because characters finding hidden energy reserve feels like deus ex machina

Points Hard - Both abiliites and points system must be explicit like in video games; becomes about resource management; easy to understand but takes sense of wonder out of magic

LEVEL SYSTEMS (Appearance + Abilities + Limits)

Soft Level Static - Unchanging power without upper limits; cannot solve conflicts because feels repetitive; power must be used cleverly; e.g., Wolverine's healing factor

Soft Level Advancing - Increased powers or new powers with unknown limits; cannot solve conflicts unless tied to a character arc like Soft Hero Complete, at which point "unlocks" new abilities

Hard Level Static - Unchanging abilities with clear-cut limits; can solve conflicts so long as setup is properly seeded, usually resulting in sacrifice; e.g., Genie

Hard Level Advancing - Well-established abilities with limits; can solve conflicts based upon clever uses of abilities, usually against stronger foes; e.g., Airbender

COST SYSTEMS (Appearance + Abilities + Limits + Cost)

Static Cost - Well-established cost remains consistent for each use of ability; can solve conflicts since based on personal sacrifice

Cost Fluctuating - Costs change based upon dramatic need; costs must be greater than or equal to ability; possible costs include lost time, money, sanity, health, memory, life, morality, etc.

Sources: 1 2 3 4 5 6 ⚜ Writing Notes & References Writing Notes: Magic System ⚜ Fictional Items; Poisons ⚜ Fantasy

[aurorawritestoescape]

IN HIS ARMS || QZ!Joel Miller x f!reader || 5,2k

Summary: You meet a smuggler in the QZ and can't resist your attraction to him.

Tw: 18+ mdni, smut, a bit of fluff, unspecified age gap, Fedra soldier!reader, unprotected piv (wrap it up), creampie, mirror sex, degradation, rough sex, praise kink, size kink, reader really loves Joel’s arms (who doesn’t), manhandling, alcohol consumption, use of a morning after pill, mention of guns, mention of canon-typical violence. Reader has hair. Joel can pick her up. Pics are only for the mood, reader has no other specific physical descriptions.

A/n: this is written for PPCU Body Worship writing challenge, created by talented, sweet and beautiful @joelmillerisapunk 💖 I got ‘Arms’ and immediately thought of meaty, beefy QZ Joel. Smooches to my lovely beta @milla-frenchy 😘 Dividers by @saradika-graphics 💕 Love y’all! Hope you will like the story!❤️

MASTERLIST

“Let’s go.”

“Sure you need me there? It’s your deal, Ronnie. And you know you’re armed, right? Why do I always have to hold your hand?” you complain, while your eyes are scanning the crowd at a public hanging for any sign of disturbance. It’s not your favorite task but Fedra sends enough soldiers here to keep things under control so it usually goes smoothly. That’s probably why your friend Ronnie arranged a deal right in the middle of your shift.

“I’m nervous, ok,” he admits, glancing at you, “The dude’s fucking scary. Never worked with him before. But I’ve heard stuff. You’re just gonna stand there, that’s all. Don’t need to talk.”

You’ve known Ronnie since you were teens in a Fedra camp. Now both officers, you are still inseparable, though at this moment you’d prefer to be as far away from him as you could because in case you two get caught, you both will be a spectacle of the next hanging. Ronnie’s pleading eyes always work on you and the little weasel knows it well so you curse and follow him to the place of the meetup.

As soon as you see the smuggler, standing in a secluded spot far away from the prying eye, your heart starts beating faster. And not because he scares you. Yes, he’s huge and looks very unfriendly, thanks to his furrowed brows and the closed off stance which actually happens to be the culprit of your unexpected reaction. His pose accentuates the beauty of his arms as he’s crossing them in front of his chest. It’s a threatening sight, same as his gaze, but like a moth to a flame, you’re pulled to the man immediately. All thoughts in your head are replaced with only one - he’s fucking hot.

Ronnie slowly comes up to the man, feigning confidence.

“Who the fuck is this?” the smuggler asks, nodding at you with his chin.

“Just a friend. Don’t worry, Joel.”

“I ain’t the one to worry here, kid,” he gruffs, uncrossing his arms as his fists clench in a threatening gesture and you can sense the waves of panic, coming from your friend. “I prefer to do these things one on one. Don’t need an audience. Ya got me?”

“Yeah, ‘k. Next time I’ll be alone.”

“Hope so.”

Joel looks you up and down and you suddenly feel too hot. Standing a step further from him than Ronnie and not saying anything, you’re ogling the man with hungry eyes. Joel seems to relax and the men finally exchange the goods— pills for your friend and ration cards for the smuggler. They’re talking about the product, scheduling the next deal, and you should be on the lookout, should be attentive to the surroundings, like you always are, but your mind, as well as other parts, is fully focused on the stranger.

Joel’s hairy forearms are thick and strong and every little move makes his muscles flex and bulge out of his rolled up sleeves of the denim shirt. His shoulders are broad and the fabric, containing them, is strained to the limit. You’ve never been a biter in bed but suddenly you want to sink your teeth into his arms, lick them all over, glide your hands over the vast expense of his skin, grab them and feel them tighten around your body, encompassing you fully, while his cock stretches…

“Hey!” Ronnie exclaims, interrupting your horny daydreams, pulling on your sleeve and you blink at him, trying to shake away the visions of the man, doing filthy things to you.

“Let’s go!” he says for what appears not the first time, and you smile awkwardly, noticing Joel’s smirk. His arms are crossed again, but now he’s looking at you with a twinkle of curiosity in his piercing eyes, his heavy gaze lightened up.

You take a step away, following your friend, but Joel stops you.

“Sweetheart, wait!”

The pet name hits you right in the pussy and you pause and turn back, confused by why he’s calling you.

“C’mere,” the man motions for you to return to him with a shake of his head, his bear hands shoved in the jeans pockets.

“We’re in a hurry, man,” Ronnie frowns, thinking he’s coming to your rescue, but you turn to him and say,

“It’s ok. Wait for me over there.”

You have no idea what Joel wants from you, but you’re eager to find out. Not hiding his anxiety, your friend takes a few steps away from you and stands at the gate, glancing in your direction from time to time while his hand is resting on his gun.

“Yes? Joel, right?” You ask, coming up to the smuggler and using every last drop of your will not to leer at his mighty arms again.

“Yeah. What’s your name?”

You reply with a little smile and see a smirk tug at his plush lips when he asks, “Like what you see?”

“What do you mean?”

“You’ve been starin' at me like at a piece of meat. No use denyin' it."

You avert your eyes, chewing on your lip. You probably should be embarrassed to be caught ogling the man, but life in this miserable world taught you to take what you want whenever you can. Especially if it's being handed to you.

"I'm not." You look back at Joel with defiance in your gaze. "I think you're hot."

Joel’s chest expands when he takes a deep breath, the shirt’s buttons hanging for dear life. His piercing eyes turn a shade darker as he asks,

"Wanna do somethin' about it?"

Your heart rate increases and the warmth of arousal between your thighs makes you shift on your feet.

"What are you suggesting?"

"Come over to my place tonight. Around 8. Ask your friend for the address. He knows."

You don't reply for a few seconds, making it seem like you're thinking about your answer, although your pussy has been aching since the moment you saw the smuggler so there's no way you're going to reject his invitation.

"'K", you reply, feigning nonchalance, while excitement is twisting your stomach.

“What?! Are you out of your mind? You're gonna see him?” Ronnie hisses at you, as you two are walking back to the square. “He’s dangerous! Do you realize that? He’s huge! Have you seen his arms?”

“Oh, I’ve seen his arms alright,” you reply with a dreamy smile, sensing butterflies in your belly.

“Fuck, you’re so stupid when you’re horny. If I find you tomorrow dead in a ditch, I’ll tell your lifeless face ‘I told you so!’”

“Jesus, man,” You giggle, playfully punching Ronnie’s shoulder. “I’ll be ok. I promise.”

The night can’t come soon enough. Still wearing your uniform, you rush to meet the man who's been occupying your mind all day. When Joel opens the door to you, you swallow loudly seeing him in the same denim shirt and dark blue jeans. You’ve been dreaming of his huge arms around your body, so your panties are completely soaked, and having had no time to change after your shift, you hope to slide them off as fast as possible.

“Hi,” you greet the man, stepping into his apartment.

“Howdy.”Joel closes the door and stands next to you, while his gaze is sliding up and down your body. You look around the apartment, getting a whiff of his scent— sweat with a subtle trace of whiskey.

“Are you from Texas originally?” You ask, glancing up at him, slightly intoxicated by his closeness.

“Yeah. Want a drink?”

He walks to the living area and you follow before leaving your guns at the door.

“What do you have?”

“Whiskey, vodka…water.”

“Vodka’s fine,” you reply, stepping up to a worn out couch and sitting down.

“Oh, are you a vodka girl?”

“I’m a ‘whatever burns’ girl, but vodka works faster on me,” you smile and Joel smirks, crossing his arms again. You swallow loudly, seeing his sexy tan forearms in the golden light of the setting sun. Fuck, you wanna touch them.

“Why d’ya need it to work fast? Doesn’t seem like you need any liquid courage.”

“Really?”

Joel goes to the kitchen and in a few seconds returns with a half empty Smirnoff bottle and two shot glasses. He plops next to you on the couch with a grunt and pours out the alcohol.

You drink yours in one go and Joel follows. The vodka burns and calms you down a little. Joel clears his throat before he speaks,

“This morning your friend was shaking like a leaf. And you… You were practically undressing me with your eyes, sweetheart.”

You smile and drop your gaze down to your lap.

“Well, Ronnie is a nervous guy and I’m …”

“A needy little slut?”

You shoot your eyes up at him and see a smug smile, tugging at his lips, as he awaits your reaction. You should probably feel offended or angry, but instead your core burns brighter at his degrading comment and your pussy flutters, as if proving him right.

He reads your reaction immediately.

“Oh you like that, huh?”

“What?”

“When I call you a slut.”

“I don’t mind,” you mumble while your mind is shutting down with every dirty word he throws at you.

“Yeah, you looked like a thirsty whore this morning. And I see that nothing’s changed.”

You’re barely breathing at this point, as waves of arousal ripple through your body, making you squirm in your seat.

“I…I just really like your arms.” Your gaze shamelessly slides over his body, so big and powerful.

“My arms?” Joel’s brows shoot up and he turns his head to look at his arm, resting on the back of the couch, as if trying to understand your attraction.

“Yeah,” you nod slowly, ogling the muscles straining his sleeve.

“Wanna touch ‘em, baby?”

“Yes, please”.

“So polite. Wanna call you a good girl but we already know that you prefer ‘a slut’.”

Joel chuckles and narrows his eyes, watching you for a few seconds, while you’re melting under his lustful gaze, sinking in the sticky pit of desire. Through the fog in your head you hear his voice, low but still powerful.

“How about we skip the pleasantries then and get to the thing you came for.”

“What’s that?”

“I’m gonna fuck you. And let you touch my arms.”

Your breath hitches and your body tingles all over. You can’t agree fast enough.

“Yeah, ok.”

“Do you always say ‘yes’ to everything, little slut?” he smirks, playing with you like a cat with a mouse.

You try to come up with a witty response but your mind is clouded with lust so you just shake your head with probably the dumbest look ever.

“Can I use your bathroom?” You mumble and when he points you in its direction, swiftly walk there.

You close the door in the little room and check your face in the mirror. It’s the same as every day except for your glossy eyes. You rinse your face, trying to come to your senses, look a little less horny but it’s all in vain. The desire overtook your body completely so you dry yourself and leave the room.

When you return to Joel, you find him on the couch in the same spot and in the same position. Only now he’s completely naked.

A shiver goes down your spine from a new surge of arousal, tightening your core.

You barely hear him, your mind is fully occupied by the image of this gorgeous, huge man, waiting to fuck you. Everything about him makes your pussy beat with the rhythm of your heart - his soft belly, his long, girthy, slightly curved semi hard cock, resting on his thick thigh, his broad hairy chest and muscular arms. Seeing them without the confines of the clothes completely shuts off your brain and you take a step towards him, mesmerized by his muscles, wishing to feel them already.

“Take your clothes off, baby.”

You hardly hear him, taking in every inch of his body.

“Girl! Undress. Fuckin’ hell,” Joel groans and you shake your head, waking up from a horny trance, and start discarding your clothes hastily, piece by piece while his dark gaze is set on you. You should be more graceful and seductive taking them off, but your aching pussy makes your movements rushed and determined. When you’re completely naked, except for your panties, you hook your thumbs into the waistband of the last piece of clothing, but Joel stops you.

He gets up and walks to you, his big cock in his veiny hand.

“Wanna do it myself,” he mumbles and stands next to you, at your side, so close that you feel his warm breath on your cheek and breasts, his naked chest brushing against your shoulder, his manhood poking your thigh.

“Pretty little thing,” he whispers, taking in your body, while his hand slides down your back, leaving chills in its wake. You raise your big eyes at him, your lips parted. “Pity you get so dumb though,” he chuckles and lightly squeezes your asscheek. His hand stays there while the other one cups your breast and grazes your nipple with his calloused thumb, making it stiff. You moan and he groans.

Joel’s palm on your ass moves lower, and reaches your pussy, covered by the wet panties. He slips his finger between your asscheeks and rubs your drippping hole over the gusset. You softly whimper and he plants a light kiss on your cheek, stroking your folds over the fabric.

“She’s been crying for me all day, huh?” he mumbles, placing his large warm hand on your belly, the other one still caressing your cunt. “Pussy so needy she shut down your whole little brain. Yeah, baby?”

All you can do is nod, your senses fully focused on the way his thick fingers are rubbing your aching cunt over the underwear.

“She must be cold, sweetheart, being in a pair of wet panties all day like that?” He coos at you.

“Yeah”, you reply, barely breathing, already feeling your orgasm build because of his light touches. “Didn’t have time to change. I have a sexy pair at home.”

Joel breathes out a chuckle, “I bet you do, little slut. Would love to see ‘em too one day.”

The only response you can give is a mewl.

He steps in front of you, his hand leaving your pussy, and you whine. Joel tsks at you and pinches your chin with his fingers to lift your face to his.

“Oh, my pretty bimbo, already cock drunk,” he laughs, locking eyes with you.

Joel’s so huge, you should probably be scared, but all you feel is a pathetic need to be completely destroyed by him.

“Lights are on but…fuck, you’re gone,” he mocks you, looking into your hazy blown out eyes.

“Listen to me,” he commands, as his fingers slightly shake your head, getting your attention. “How do you want it? Gentle or rough, sweetheart?”

“Rough,” you croak back without any hesitation.

“Good. Then do what I say and we gonna have a great time, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Good little slut.”

Your breaths are short and fast as you’re blinking, starting at him like a mindless fuck doll. Suddenly, you gasp when he grabs the back of your thighs with his massive hands and lifts you, throwing your legs around his waist. You grab onto his broad shoulders and he carries you away from the couch and to the bedroom.

He drops you on the bed, old and stiff, but you don’t care. You have no time or ability to think about anything, because as soon as you’re on your back, Joel pins you to the lumpy mattress with his heavy torso and kisses you. He’s not asking for a kiss, he’s taking it but you willingly open your mouth, welcoming his hot tongue. A happy moan escapes your mouth, when you finally glide your palms over his huge arms. He slides your panties off and cups your pussy with his huge warm palm.

“Messy whore,” he mumbles against your mouth.

Joel’s assertive, passionate and as horny as you are, and you smile against his lips, enjoying his desire for you.

He begins peppering kisses along your jaw, your neck, leaving hickeys on his way to your breasts.

You whimper when his mouth finds your nipple and gasp when he nips at it. He licks the pain away and starts sucking on it while his hands are roaming your heated body.

You grab onto his shoulders and shift your hips under his arm. Joel’s slurping and growling, caressing your breast with his lips and tongue, but you crave more so you start grinding your wet pulsating pussy against his arm. Your movements immediately send you to the precipice of your climax. His muscles flex as you rub your clit against them, smearing your slick over his tan skin, and Joel parts from your tit for a few seconds to watch you use his arm to get yourself off.

“Look at this sloppy little pussy. Gonna need a shower after this. Or…,” he smirks and gets back to suckling your other breast.

Each motion of his muscles is helping you to come as you’re dragging your pussy up and down his heavy limb. Soon you throw your head back, dipping it into the pillow when a hard climax hits you and your cunt contracts around nothing, as euphoria is coursing through your veins, taking away the last of your clear thinking.

“That’s it— take it, slut— come for me — jus’ like that,” Joel mumbles against your trembling chest but you hardly hear him, so deep in the ocean of desire, all sounds around you are muffled.

The next thing you feel is his hands grabbing your shoulders and lifting you. Joel makes you sit up and wraps his heavy hand around the back of your neck.

“Look what you’ve done, messy girl.”

He nods at his arm, glistening with your cum and slick and then growls, “Lick it clean.”

With a hazy smile you sit on your heels, getting comfortable. Then you take his arm between your hands and reach for it. Your tongue slides over his hot wet skin and you flutter your eyes shut, reveling in the sensations of his firm muscles under your tongue and the earthy taste of your juices.

“Attagirl,” Joel praises you and slightly squeezes the back of your neck to make you move your head lower and lap up all the mess you’ve left on his skin.

When you finish, Joel lifts your head and sees you staring at his throbbing cock with empty but hungry eyes. It’s leaking precum generously and you almost drool looking at it. You should probably be nervous to take his huge length but all you feel is feral lust.

Placing his palm under your jaw, Joel tilts your head up and searches for your eyes.

“Damn, lookin’ so dumb right now. Lucky you remember how to breathe, little whore.”

He laughs at you and grabs your face, as his fingers dig into your cheeks, making your lips pout.

You whine and he pulls you into his chest. You hug him as if afraid to float away and he gives you a few moments of rest while you are panting, snuggling into his embrace after the shuddering orgasm.

Then he lifts your chin and locks eyes with you. Your breath hitches as you’re struck by his handsome face, which leans down and he kisses you again, gently and slowly, wrapping you tighter in his embrace. Then he asks,

“Why do you like my arms so much?”

You blink a few times, trying really hard to understand the question, drunk on his taste and the way he’s holding you, but when the meaning finally reaches your brain, you stumble over your words.

“I… they… jus’ so big. And … fuck, very hot.”

You feel his broad chest shake with a quiet laugh. “Ready for my cock, baby?” You nod your head with a soft mewl.

“Wanna watch my arms when I’m railing you?”

“Yeah, yes, please.”

Joel hums and gets up before manhandling you off the bed and leading you to a wardrobe. He’s holding you under your arms, noticing that your weak legs are barely able to move, still tingling after your orgasm. He places you like a fuck doll in front the wardrobe door with a mirror and stands behind you. He’s so big and broad that you can see his shoulders and arms perfectly in the reflection. Your gaze glides over your own naked body, and you notice a path of hickeys along your neck and breasts and your core ignites again at the sight of his passion. Then you look at Joel, his eyes are obsidian, the expression is carnal and hungry, and you moan, feeling his cock slap your lower back.

His gaze drops down before he pushes your legs aside with his knee, his thick fingers dig into your hips and he pulls your ass, making you stick it out. Trying to steady yourself, you brace your hands on the mirror in front of you, but he grumbles,

“Not the mirror, stupid. You’ll break it, cut yourself.”

You swiftly move your hands further apart onto the wooden surface.

“Sexy but so dumb,” he mumbles as his eyes return to your ass and his cock. You watch his face, serious and concentrated, and sense his tip prod your sopping hole.

“Fuck,” he curses and pushes his cock deeper, slightly bending his knees to insert it into your tight pussy easier.

You push your ass out more for him, already whimpering like a whore, as you feel your walls slowly part to accommodate his stiff cock. It stings but you welcome the sensation of his manhood spreading your pussy until he bottoms out and you both moan at the sensation.

“Ahh— she feels amazing, baby,” he grunts and you smile dumbly at his reflection in the mirror.

“Such a sloppy cunt,” he murmurs, starting to plunge his length in and out of you with a fast rhythm, “oh, yeah — yeah — yeah—.”

His fat cock is massaging your walls deliciously, kissing your cervix with every deep thrust and you mewl with pleasure and scratch the wooden surface of the wardrobe with your nails.

“Naughty kitten. Tess will kill you if you leave marks on her furniture,” Joel chuckles through heavy panting, squeezing your hips and watching your cunt swallow his glistening cock.

“Who’s Tess?” You ask, not really giving a fuck and he doesn’t reply.

Instead he grants you your biggest wish - he pulls you flush to his chest and wraps his arms around your torso from behind. Your hands immediately fly to grab onto his strong limbs. Joel’s right arm is under your breasts, slightly pushing them up. The other one is keeping you in place, pressed to your chest, between your tits, his giant hand on your throat. His thick fingers curl around your neck but he doesn’t squeeze it, just holds you close against his broad torso.

The sensation and the vision of his powerful muscular arms bonding you to him like that, make your pussy contract and Joel growls in your ear, his breath hot and wet,

“Squeezing me already? Fuck, you’re easy.”

You whine and Joel nibbles on your ear lobe and rasps,

“Hold tight, baby, it’s gonna be a wild ride.”

As soon as the words reach your ear, he begins rolling his hips and dragging his cock in and out of your tight pussy, hard and fast.

You grab onto his bulging muscles better, and as he’s increasing the pace, you’re scratching him with your nails, leaving white marks on his golden skin and whimpering.

“Yeah, take it, dumb little whore. Gonna fuck the last of your brain out of your pretty head.”

Your breasts bounce while he’s fucking you and you bite your puffy lips, trying to muffle your moans, but Joel commands against yout ear,

“Want you to be loud, baby. C’mon. Let them all hear how good im fuckin’ ya.”

You would do anything he told you this moment so your lips part and you let your pleasured noises out, as they mix with the sound of skin rhythmically slapping against skin and his animalistic groans.

Reveling in the sensation of Joel, pounding your crying cunt, you let your hands wander all over his forearms and shoulders, squeezing and scratching them slightly, wishing to memorize the feeling of their strength under your hungry touch. Your vision is shaking with every mighty thrust of his hips but you’re watching the reflection of you two closely, drowning in the image of this tall broad man using you like a mindless fuck doll, caging you in his powerful arms and tears well up in your eyes at how amazing it feels. Your mind and body are focused on this pleasure, suffering and worries of the reality are gone and the drops of pure happiness spill and fall on his arms.

Joel notices you crying and stops fucking you, swiftly pulling out and turning you around.

“What is it, baby? Did I hurt ya?”

His dark eyes, a second ago filled with carnal desire now worried and concerned, dart all over your face and body, searching for the reason of your tears.

You grab onto him and shake your head,

“No, no, i’m fine — feels so good - you feel so good, Joel.”

“Fuckin’ hell, sweetheart,” he breathes out, pulling you into his bear hug and rubbing your back with his warm hands.

“Please keep fucking me,” you mumble against his hairy chest and he barks a laugh before throwing you back on the bed, making you squeal with excitement.

Joel lies down and manhandles you to straddle him.

“Sit on my cock, little slut,” he commands, eyes darting between yours, reading your reaction.

“Yes, yes,” you mumble, wrapping your hand around his hot hard cock and lifting your hips, hovering over it. You don’t make him wait and immediately sink down on his weeping manhood, as your mouth falls open and your head tilts back.

Joel’s hands are holding your hips when you start riding him, and then snake up to your breasts to knead them, pinch and twist your pebbled nipples.

You run your fingers over his forearms from the elbows to his wrists and grab his hand, intertwining your fingers. Not pausing your lustful dance on his cock, you gently kiss his palm, his hand, then your lips glide down, leaving open mouth kisses over his wrist, the underside of his forearm and his elbow, darting your tongue out and tasting his salty skin. You lean forward, your nipples brushing his chest, and kiss his biceps, using your tongue, and Joel moans, watching you practically make out with his arm.

“Fuck, you’re hot, baby,” he groans while you’re lapping at his skin with your eyes shut. You’re softly whimpering at the sensation of his body, big and strong under you, his cock caressing your walls, making your pussy flutter around it, pushing you closer and closer to your second climax.

“Shit,” Joel curses, pulls your head off his arm and kisses you, while hugging your torso with his python-like grip. He’s holding you tight and you whine, not being able to move your hips and chase your orgasm. Sensing your impatience, Joel plants his feet on the bed and begins jackhammering his fat cock into your slicked up pussy, giving it to you rough and fast, not sparing your little hole.

You’re moaning against his scruffy cheek, your body shaking with his feral thrusts but Joel’s iron hold is keeping you in place.

“Usin’ you like a fuck doll you’re, yeah? Brainless little slut. Made just to make my cock happy. Perfect for me.”

His filthy words, leaving his mouth through gritted teeth, are barely audible because of the loud slapping of his body against yours and the squeaking of the old bed.

“Joellll…,” you moan, and after a few more thrusts explode on his thumping cock, caged by his strong arms, sobbing with heavenly pleasure flooding every inch of your body.

“Hnggg—shit—can I come inside?” You hear a gruff roar in your ear and with Joel fucking your brains out right this moment, you breathe out, “yeah, oh, yeah.” You crave to be full of him, drip him for days after, getting turned on just from the memory of him. As soon as you agree, Joel starts spurting his hot cum into your pulsating cunt, filling you up, emptying his balls into you.

You’re lying still, nuzzling his neck and taking everything he’s giving you, milking his cock to the last drop with your contracting walls.

Gradually intense ecstasy morphs into a pleasant satisfaction and you both bask in the afterglow of your orgasms. You feel almost high on endorphins, not used to such an amount of happiness in your veins, in your life.

Joel softens his embrace but still holds you, letting you rest and you almost doze off, lulled by his warm chest rocking you up and down like a giant wave.

“Don’t sleep yet, ya need to take a pill,” he gently shakes you, sleep heavy in his own voice.

“Oh, yeah…fuck, you came inside,” you murmur, blinking at him, as your mind fog slowly clears up.

“I have a Plan B, don’t worry.”

He moves you off him and lays you down on the bed, then gets up, making the bed squeak.

You can’t move your limbs even if you tried to so you’re lying there, feeling his warmth between your legs, kisses of the afterglow all over your heated skin and smile lazily when he returns to the bed with a glass of water.

“Look at you, as cock dumb as they get, huh?”

He plops down next to you and hands you the pill.

You sit up with a tired smile, swallow the pill and chase it with a few sips of water.

“Good girl,” Joel takes the glass from you and shakes his head when you murmur that you need to go.

“No way. Sleep here. They'll hang your ass if they catch you out and about at this hour.”

You turn your head to the window, just noticing that it’s completely dark outside, only the street lamps illuminate the room with a yellow light.

“Aww, you care about me, Joel? Don’t fall in love,” you giggle but your heart flutters as you look up at the man, so handsome and huge, looming over you.

“I’ll try,” he deadpans and shakes his hand, motioning you to scooch.

You shift to the other side of the bed and he lies down on his back with a grunt. You’re still sitting up, shamelessly admiring his naked body.

“Quit starin’,” he mumbles with eyes closed and pulls you down onto his chest.

You’re lying on his shoulder for a few moments and then whisper,

“Can you big spoon me?”

“Jesus…,” he sighs but turns on his side, scooping you in his embrace and you smile, closing your eyes as your hands gravitate to his arms, heavy and secure around you. You press your back into his warm chest and fall into a deep and peaceful sleep.

Thank you for reading! Please comment and reblog if you enjoyed the fic!💖🌸

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[mashkaroom]

Translation thoughts on the greatest poem of our time, “His wife has filled his house with chintz. To keep it real I fuck him on the floor”

It’s actually quite tricky to translate. Because it’s so short, each word and grammatical construction is carrying a lot of weight. It also, as people have noted, plays with registers. “Chintz” is a word with its own set of associations. Chintz is a type of fabric with its origins in India. The disparaging connotation is from chintz’s eventual commonality. Chintz was actually banned from England and France because the local textile mills couldn’t compete.

Keep it real” is tremendously difficult to translate -- it’s a bit difficult to even define. It means to be authentic and genuine, but it also has connotations of staying true to one’s roots. Like many English slang words, it comes first from AAVE. From this article on the phrase:

“[K]eeping it real meant performing an individual’s experience of being Black in the United States. As such, it became a form of resistance. Insisting on a different reality, one that wasn’t recognized by the dominant culture, empowered Black people to ‘forge a parallel system of meaning,’ according to cultural critic Mich Nyawalo...The phrase’s roots in racialized resistance, however, were erased when it was adopted by the mostly-White film world of the 1970s and ’80s....Keeping it real in this context indicated a performance done so well that audiences could forget it was a performance.This version of keeping it real wasn’t about testifying to personal experience; it was about inventing it.”

One has to imagine that jjbang8 did not have the origins of these phrases in mind when composing the poem, but even if by coincidence, the etymological and cultural journeys of these two central lexemes perfectly reflect the themes of the poem. The two words have themselves traveled away from the authenticity they once represented, and, in a new context, have taken on new meanings -- the hero of our poem, the unnamed “him”, is, presumably, in quite a similar situation.

Setting aside the question of register, of the phonology, prosody, and meter of the original, of the information that is transmitted through bits of grammar that don’t necessarily exist in other languages -- a gifted translator might be able to account for all of these -- how do you translate the journey of the words themselves?

In my translations, I decided to go for the most evocative words, even if they don’t evoke the exact same things as in the original. The strength of these two lines is that they imply that there’s more than just what you see, whether that’s the details of the story -- what’s happening in the marriage? how do the narrator and the husband know each other? -- or the cultural background of the very words themselves. I wanted to try and replicate this effect.

Yiddish first:

זייַן ווייַב האָט אָנגעפֿילט זייַן הויז מיט הבלים

צו בלייַבן וויטיש, איך שטוף אים אופֿן דיל. zayn vayb hot ongefilt zayn hoyz mit havolim.

tsu blaybn vitish, ikh shtup im afn dil

This translation is pretty direct. There is a word for chintz in Yiddish -- tsits -- but, as far as I can tell, it refers only to the fabric; it doesn’t have the same derogatory connotation as in English. I chose, instead, havolim, a loshn-koydesh word that means “vanity, nothingness, nonsense, trifles”. In Hebrew, it can also mean breath or vapor. I chose this over the other competitors because it, too, is a word with a journey and with a secondary meaning. Rather than imagining the bright prints of chintz, we might imagine a more olfactory implication -- his wife has filled his house with perfumes or cleaning fluids. It can carry the implication that something is being masked as well as the associations with vanity and gaudiness.

Vitish -- Okay, this is a good one. Keep in mind, of course, that I’ve never heard or seen it used before today, so my understanding of its nuances is very limited, but I’ll explain to you exactly how I am sourcing its meaning. The Comprehensive Yiddish-English Dictionary (CYED) gives this as “gone astray (esp. woman); slang correct, honest”. I used the Yiddish Book Center’s optical character recognition software, which allows you to search for strings in their corpus, to confirm that both usages are, in fact, attested. It’s a pretty rare word in text, though, as the CYED implies, it might have been more common in spoken speech. It appears in a glossary in “Bay unds yuden” (Among Us Jews) as a thieves cant word, where it’s definted as נאַריש, שרעקעוודיק, אונבעהאלפ. אויך נישט גנביש. אין דער דייַטשער גאַונער-שפראַך --  witsch -- נאַריש, or “foolish, terrible, clumsy/pathetic. not of the thieves world. in the German thieves cant witsch means foolish”. A vitishe nekeyve (vitishe woman) is either a slacker or a prostitute. I can’t prove this for sure, but my sense is that it might come from the same root as vitz, joke (it’s used a couple of times in the corpus to mention laughing at a vitish remark -- which makes it seem kind of similar to witty). I assume the German thieve’s cant that’s being referred to is Rotwelsch, which has its own fascinating history and, in fact, incorporates a lot of Yiddish. In fact, for this reason, some of the first Yiddish linguists were actually criminologists! What an excellent set of associations, no? It has the slangy sense of straightforward of honest; it has a sense of sexual non-normativity (we might use it to read into the relationship between the narrator and the husband) -- and a feminized one at that; it was used by an underground subculture, and, again, the meaning there was quite different -- like the “real” in “keeping it real” it was used to indicate whether or not someone was “in” on the life (tho “real” is used to mean that the person is in, while “vitish” is used to mean they’re not). It’s variety of meanings are more ambiguous than “keep it real”, which can pretty much only be read positively, and it also brings in a tinge of criminality. Though it doesn’t have the same exact connotations as “keep it real”, I think it’s about as ideal of a fit as we’ll get because it’s equally evocative of more below the surface. I also chose “tsu blaybn vitish”, which is “to stay vitish”, as opposed to something like “to make it vitish” to keep the slight ambiguity of time that “keep it real” has -- keeping it real does< I think, imply that there is a pre-existing “real” to which one can adhere, so I wanted to imply the same.

The rest is straight-forward. “Shtup” is one of a few words the Comprehensive English-Yiddish Dictionary (CEYD) gives for “fuck”, and I think it has a nice sound.

Ok, now Russian

женой твой дом наполнен финтифлюшками

чтоб не блудить с пути, ебемся на полу

zhenoy tvoy dom napolnin fintiflyushkami.

shtob ne bludit’ s puti’, yebyomsya na polu

In order to preserve, more or less, the iambic meter, I made a few more changes here -- since Russian, unlike Yiddish, is not a Germanic language, it’s harder to keep the same structure + word order while also maintaining the rhythm. I would translate this back to English as:

“Your house is filled with trifles by your wife. To not stray off the path, we’re fucking on the floor”

So a few notes before we get into the choice of words for “chintz” and “keep it real”. To preserve the iamb, I changed “his” to “your”. This changes the lines from a narration of events to some outside party to a conversation between the two men at the center. Russian also has both formal and informal you (formal you is also the plural form, as is the case in a number of other languages). I went with informal you because I wanted to preserve the fact that his wife has filled his house not their house, as someone pointed out in the original chain (though I don’t think that differentiation is nearly as striking in the 2nd person) and because it’s unlikely you’d be on formal you with someone you’re fucking (unless it’s, like, a kink thing). I honestly didn’t even consider making it formal, but that would actually raise a lot of interesting implications about the relationship between the speaker and the husband, as well as with what that means about the “realness” of the situation. Is, in fact, the narrator only creating a mirage of a more real, more meaningful encounter, while the actual truth -- that there is a woman the husband has made promises to that he’s betraying -- is obscured? that this intimacy is just a facade? Is there perhaps some sort of power differential that the narrator wishes to point out? Or perhaps is the way that the narrator is keeping it real by pointing out the distance between the two of them? there is no pretense of intimacy, the narrator is calling this what it is -- an encounter without deeper significance?

Much to think about, but I actually think the two men do have history --  i think the narrator remembers the house back when it was actually only “his house” and was as yet unfilled with chintz. We also don’t know what they were calling each other prior to this moment. This could be the first time they switched to the informal you. 

Ok moving on, I originally translated it as “твой дом наполнен финтифлюшками жены”. Honestly, this sounds more elegant than what I have now, but I ultimately though removing the wife from either a subject or agent position (grammatically, I mean) was too big a betrayal of the original. The original judges the wife. She took an active role in filling the house. If she were made passive, that read is certainly a possible one -- perhaps even the dominant one -- but it could also read more like “we are doing this in a space filled with reminders of his wife and the life they share” -- the action of filling is no longer what’s being focused on. Why do I say the current translation is inelegant? I feel you stumble over it a little, because it’s almost a garden path sentence. This is also an assset though. “Zhenoy tvoy dom napolnen” is a fully grammatical sentence on its own, and it means “Your house is filled by your wife” -- as in English, the primary read is that the wife is what the house is full of. If the sentence makes you stumble, perhaps that’s even good -- we focus, for good reason, on the relationship between the two men, but in a translation, the wife is able to draw more attention to herself.

Ok, chintz: I chose the word “финтифлюшки” (fintiflyushki), meaning trifle/bobble/tchotchke, because it, allegedly, comes from the german phrase finten und flausen, meaning illusions and vanity/nonsense. Once again, I like that the word has a journey, specifically a cross-linguistic one.

Keep it real: this one, frankly, fails to capture the impact of the original, in my opinion, but allow me to explain the reasoning. “Stray off the path” implies, again, that there is some sort of path that both the narrator and the husband were on before the wife and the chintz -- and one they intend to continue taking, one that this act is a maintenance of. It brings in a little irony, since the husband very much is straying from the path of his marriage. “Bludit’“ can also mean to be unfaithful in a marriage (as, in fact, can “stray”). The proto-slavic word it comes from can mean to delude or debauch -- they want to do the latter but not the former.

As for register -- “shtob” is a bit informal. I would write the full version (shto by) in an email, for example. The word for fuck, yebyomsa, is from one of the “mat” words, the extra special top tier of russian swears, definitely not to be said in polite company (and, if you are a man of a certain generation or background, not in front of women; it’s not that the use of mat automatically invokes a male-only environment, but if we’re already thinking that deeply about it. But while we’re on the topic, i will say that in my circles in the US, women use mat much more actively than men (at least in front of me, who was, up until recently, a woman and also a child).)

Ok i think that’s all the comments i have!

[the-oracle-of-the-lost]

i do think it's really interesting to compare the ways Star Trek and Doctor Who succeed and fail as pieces of progressive media because they almost have the opposite problem.

both of the shows are progressive, let's make that clear. while there are exceptions, both shows and worlds consistently critique capitalism, value compassion, solve problems without violence, and at least try to be diverse. there will always be individual episodes (and even eras/arcs) that contradict those values but in general, they are progressive compared to your average procedural or whatnot. but they, by the very nature of their premise, often fail to live up to fully realizing those progressive values. and yes, individual instances of racism or misogyny or any type of bigotry is a product of the bigotry of the writers/creators, but Star Trek and Doctor Who ultimately fail and will always fail to fully embody progressivism.

Star Trek is trapped in its own system of the Federation & Starfleet. for any of the shows to work, we the audience have to believe that the Federation is almost always a good & benevolent force and while criticisms of it are made, those criticisms are the exception and not the rule. the Federation/Starfleet can be criticized but at the end of the story, we must reaffirm that our characters are still good people and it's individual corruption that's the problem. the system can be portrayed as flawed but it must always be better than the alternative. if there is a Star Trek show that would truly dig far enough into how the Federation is a product of imperialism and how the nature of exploring & going where no one has gone before is inherently rooted in racism & orientalism then the franchise would collapse because nearly everything to this point relies on the belief in that a fundamentally good utopian system is possible.

now there's Doctor Who. Doctor Who has a quite different premise in that it is never rooted to one place or time the way Star Trek is attached to Starfleet/the Federation. (there could be an argument that Doctor Who is ultimately rooted in Britain but despite the 2005 series and the UNIT era in classic who, there are large swathes of classic who and the EU that never visit Britain. it's been made an important part of the show (as the show is an important part of British culture) but it's not inherent to the basic premise.) however, because Doctor Who is focused on traveling and seeing the wonders of the universe, its premise essentially becomes "some people turn up to fix a problem and then disappear". again, there are exceptions to this (especially in early classic who), but the formula of the show is almost trapped in the belief of individual action and power to solve systemic problems which... is not how most problems or solutions behave in reality. and just as Star Trek can criticize the Federation but must ultimately forgive it, Doctor Who can criticize the Doctor and portray them as flawed but must still reaffirm their status as a hero.

so we have Star Trek too caught up in its own systems to be able to critique them and Doctor Who too focused on running to portray how complex, long term solutions are needed to solve deeply entrenched problems.

and honestly... i don't think either of these are bad. they're simply the limitations of the shows as they exist and it would be far more worthwhile to develop new premises & find other media that incorporate those types of leftist political values from the start than to try to graft them onto 60 year old media franchises and pretend like they've always been there.

and they do serve a purpose! Star Trek might not be able to adequately portray the flaws of a system but it does give you hope for a better utopian future where people are taken care of and allowed to live however they choose, where there's infinite diversity in infinite combinations. Doctor Who might not be able to portray the complicated solutions to complicated problems that we face today but it tells you that every life matters, that kindness is the most important quality, and that everyone can make a difference in some way.

[bringthekaos]

I'm excited for your thoughts on the new season if/when you share them

It has legit taken me 3 days to come to terms with Act 1. Enough to be able to speak about it. Gunna apologize in advance for the wall of text, and I’m hiding it under a break for spoiler reasons. Also prefacing with these are all just my opinions. All are free to disagree with me and RB with discussions/theories etc. just don’t be a dick about it, I’m not engaging in any discourse.

Ok. So. I have mixed feelings, and I’m aware that this is because I don’t have the whole story yet. So this is all contingent on how the rest of the season plays out.

First and foremost, I’m… wildly swinging back and forth between love and disappointment for Viktor’s arc. So first the negative, and I’ll try to keep it brief because a lot of people have already expressed this and I don’t need to be beating that particular dead horse.

Viktor has had his agency, his bodily autonomy, his original ideas and nearly everything that made him Viktor stripped away. Nothing so far has been his choice. And while this could have worked just fine for an original character, he wasn’t. So there is a massive disconnect between what this character was/should have been. In League, it was all his choice (albeit with a healthy dose of mental illness thrown in, but still). AND it was very heavily suggested that many of the augmentations he performed weren’t as extensive as he lead everyone to believe (namely the controlling/dousing of his emotions). But it appears that whatever the Hexcore did to him, it’s real. He is clearly having a difficult time accessing his emotions, and if he can feel anything, it is limited to the point of him being completely stoic. And the thing with stoic characters is that you obliterate any emotional payoff for the audience. It’s very hard to make an audience feel an emotional connection to a character’s story arc when they themselves don’t feel anything (I have a theory about this though, but I’ll address it a little later in this post). And then there is the issue of Blitzcrank. Blitz was Viktor’s whole world, after his exile. How are they going to swing that? Like, I’m not even asking for Blitz to be in Arcane (that would be great, but I really don’t think they have time). But I stg if they take Blitz away from Viktor, make them someone else’s invention (my suspicion is Heimer or he finds the idea in Sky’s journal)… I’m sorry but no. This was Viktor’s idea, Viktor’s genius. I will genuinely be extremely upset if they take that from him too.

Then there is the whole situation with Sky. First, this girl was fridged. She was nothing but a plot device and continues to be just that. It feels hollow and forced, especially now that he’s hallucinating her as some sort of penance for what he did. (I have seen the prevalent theory that it’s the Hexcore using her image and his guilt to manipulate him, given that it “ate” her, and we have seen it “manipulate” him before when it punished him for trying to destroy it). But back to Sky—he barely acknowledged that poor girl. The reason for that can be argued, whether it’s because he’s gay or because he was just so wrapped up in his one-track minded research. But regardless, there just wasn’t enough setup between those two for this whole thing to have as much weight and meaning as I think it’s supposed to. Honestly to me (TO ME) it reeks of comphet. It feels like that random woman they threw at Poe Dameron to No Homo him. I’m not even asking for Jayvik canon. But the creators were well aware of this ship, after all it’s the second most popular ship in this show and it’s been around since 2012 when Jayce was literally created for Viktor. I’m asking for the bare minimum here—that it’s left open-ended as it was in League, open for interpretation.

Last negative I have is the whole Viktor Jesus thing. The first problem is I am pretty violently agnostic, and messiah narratives have never spoken to me. I don’t enjoy them, they feel weak. The whole “ordained by a higher power” thing is just… stale. Especially when this character originally had no higher power, he gave it to himself through his own hard work and ingenuity. Honestly, Viktor’s original arc is about as far from a Jesus allegory as you can possibly get. And I am absolutely terrified that they’re going to end said Jesus arc the way you’d expect—with him dying for it. Which leaves the moral of his story “disabled man should have just accepted that he was going to die despite the fact that it was the oppression and xenophobia of Piltover that left him out to dry, without proper health care, accessibility, equality, or equity that lead to his terminal diagnosis to begin with.” Which is a very oppressor-centric narrative and we do not need another one of those.

Sorry, I know I said I’d keep the negatives brief, and that was… not. My bad. But moving on!

I’m not saying I didn’t enjoy it, I did. I am working to embrace this new Viktor narrative and work it into my brain in a way that doesn’t ruin the ship for me. So without further ado, the positives.

Jayce.

Jayce.

Jayce.

I’d have to go back and time it, but it feels like he got more screen time in this first act than the entirety of the first season combined, and his character shined for it. It humanized him in ways season one never did. He’s caring, he’s devoted, and he loved Viktor! No matter what kind of love you think it is, it proves he loved Viktor without a doubt. He carried Viktor several city blocks to the lab to save him, and then YES, he broke his promise about the Hexcore because he couldn’t stand the thought of losing him!

And he’s funny! (The scene where he picks up the regular sized hammer in the fight against Renni and made that “this is ironic” face?? And then basically the entire interaction with Ekko? The hand me a tome thing, and then when he basically pulled this when Ekko suggested “so this is all your fault cuz you pissed off the Arcane”:

GOD that shit was great. Jayce’s personality just shined, and maybe it’s too much to hope, but maybe this will douse a little of the hate. Because instead of being a subtle hint at all of those things being true about him, it’s now overt. And when people lack media literacy, the hints have to be overt.

And th-the. The h. The HUG SCENE. I don’t think I will ever emotionally recover from that scene. Starting with Viktor who, despite being clearly emotionally—I dunno, vacant I guess—sounded so lost and scared when he said “what am I?” For me, it was whispers of that scene from The Last Unicorn: “what have you done to me?” And my poor sweet Jayce, who clearly hasn’t left this damn lab except to go to Cassandra’s memorial. Sleeping on the desk and bleeding through his bandages because he doesn’t want to spend a moment away from Viktor while he “recovers.” And his euphoric response when he finds Viktor alive, when he realizes he hasn’t lost him. And I OWE HIM AN APOLOGY, goddamn. I said in a post that “Jayce will not understand.” I thought that was how Arcane was gunna start the divorce. But Jayce genuinely did not care, as long as his lover friend was alive. And just… Jayce being so affectionate through this entire scene. The hug obviously, but also blurting things he thought he’d never get to say to Viktor—“I’m resigning from the council, my place was always here in the lab with you.”

And… the hug itself. I know we’re all analyzing it frame by goddamn frame, but I see exactly what everyone else sees—there is a moment where Viktor very subtly smiles. But it’s gone in an instant, and it turns bittersweet. LOOK AT HIM.

There is something there, it’s just buried. Deep beneath the surface. It seems to say “I want this, I have wanted this for so long.” But then he realizes something, something I don’t think we’re meant to understand yet. Maybe that he doesn’t feel anything about it anymore, and he recognizes that this should upset him and it doesn’t. Or perhaps it’s something more along the lines of “it’s too late.” Whatever it is, I think this is the exact moment he knows he has to walk away. Because he knows he’ll cave to the affection, he said it himself. (Which is another thing entirely. His voice changes when he says that. Something in him is reacting to that word. Maybe he’s fighting against it, or maybe he’s fighting to get it back. But something made him almost growl that word.)

Which leads me to my final thought (for this post anyway, cuz it’s turning into a novel); Viktor is still in there. He can still feel things, I just think they’re extremely muted by whatever the Hexcore did/continues to do to him, or he has to fight to express them. Because he also smiled at the hallucination of Sky after he “cured” Huck. And if he feels nothing, he wouldn’t have been “joyous” at the thought of her being proud of him, approving of the good things he’s trying to do in her memory. He wouldn’t crave that validation, that vindication from her. So I’m hopeful that we start to see this shell crack a little, especially if those visions of Sky are the Hexcore manipulating him through guilt. It will start to erode him, no matter how stoic he has become. And literally the only thing I’m clinging to is that Jayce will see this and try to pull him out. “He’s still in there and I have to save him.” And that maybe it’ll start to work.

[liulith]

We as a fandom need to open our hearts to the insane comedic potential of Sir Pentious being included as a background character in stories taking place in the "old days" before Vox and Alastor's falling out. AND the comedic potential of one-sided Sir Pentious -> Vox.

Why?

Canon!Sir Pentious is attached to his era's aesthetics but he also wants to be "hip and cool" (see pilot episode; Sir Pentious as the how do you do fellow kids meme) and join the "Almighty Vees". When did he start wanting that? He's not a media demon trying to keep up with his audience and be a likeable public figure. He's a mechanic trying to conquer Hell by force thanks to his machines and obviously relishes in acting like a villain (fear me! I'm so evil! I'm the architect of destruction! etc. etc).

This is very different from the Vees' approach - maintaining a perfect public image, insidious manipulation tactics... Vox threatens Alastor in the show, but the Vees clearly haven't built their power through turf wars, which is and has always been Pentious' one and only strategy. All the machines we've seen him make are war weapons (+ the Egg Boyz who do his bidding, and help him operate those very weapons). Voxtek probably sells weaponry too but that is more Camilla's domain, so it would be more logical for Pentious to try and join her.

Pentious' and the Vees agenda and interests aren't aligned, so why is Pentious so desperate to join the Vees?

there are many reasons why Pentious could want to be part of the Vees besides the one I'm gonna talk about but you know what MY agenda is:

Vox is Pentious' idol. Pentious is an inventor, an innovator. He would have loved waking up in Hell with a mechanical body he can upgrade however he wants and finds the whole concept fascinating.

He's not against new technology, as his creations clearly go beyond what people could have had invented in his time despite their "steampunk" aesthetic (see: the effing death ray). So I think his current "limitations" are more a matter of him having to stick with what he knows best because it's hard to keep up with the constant stream of new tech. This is why he's more than impressed with Vox's extraordinary ability to adapt to change and master new technologies again and again. He's a fellow innovator! That's one reason for Pentious to be obsessed with the guy.

And if you think obsessed isn't the right word, think about this: Sir Pentious repeatedly challenges Alastor to fights even though he's clearly outmatched and it's an incredible risk to take considering what Alastor does. Pentious is OLDER than Alastor, he was there when he broadcast the most powerful Overlords' scream all over Hell. Plus, losing always leaves him in a very vulnerable position (without his best weapons). Is it madness? Hubris? An obsession for Alastor? No!

Sir Pentious to Alastor: Silence! Now Cower! For when I've slain you, the Almighty Vees will finally acknowledge me!

Sir Pentious thinks defeating Alastor is the only way the Vees will finally acknowledge him. No matter how dangerous it is, he has to try, for the Vees (Vox). Just like he took the risk of angering the Princess of Hell to get in Vox's good graces. This says a lot, for someone as paranoid as him, who doesn't trust anyone who is "too nice" to him.

If Hazbin had more episodes there should have been one about Pentious struggling with the fact he disappointed his idol and told to KHS 👀

(btw this is old news but we know that one of the Hazbin episodes that Viv originally pitched was about a science contest organized by Voxtek in which Pentious and Baxter competed against each other! Pentious could have done that after ep2!)

Anyway, back to the comedic potential of it all & Vox's arrival in Hell. Can you imagine his reaction as a newly fallen Sinner, when he's hanging out with Alastor (aka following him like a lost puppy?) and he meets Sir Pentious for the first time? Like sure, Hell is full of insane people but Alastor obviously has a Reputation and no one ever challenges him. And suddenly... Hm... Alastor?? There's an airship with a giant cannon pointed right as us?? Firing a DEATH RAY?!

It's also so funny to imagine Sir Pentious being obsessed with Alastor and considering him his archnemesis back in the day, only to slowly become obsessed with Vox instead and only caring about defeating Alastor because he thinks Vox will like it. It starts with Sir Pentious trying to "gather intel" on Alastor's new "ally", spying on them or sending his Egg Boyz to do so (and we already know great he is at spying so you can guess how that goes lol), and the rest is history.

Alastor loves attention so he probably let Pentious spy on him behind bushes from time to time if only because it's very entertaining to watch him try to be discrete and make his shadow tap on his shoulder. How hilarious would it be if Alastor noticed Sir Pentious' growing crush on Vox but not Vox's crush on him? Also, Vox misunderstanding Pentious and Alastor's relationship and thinking Pentious is a weird obsessive ex... The world is a stage and the stage is a world of entertainment!

[transhitman]

Yeah so like I think people trying to say whether Curly is like bad/good or like at fault/blameless are missing the point. Like 1) bad person is a term I have issues with in general (I don't believe a person can be ontologically evil and you shouldn't either, a three hour video essay) and 2) within Anya's story he is an enabler no question, but at the same time we don't really get to see what he would have done going forward and if he really would have taken responsibility or continued to let things go as they did. I think being in denial when your best friend is accused of something awful is an understandable reaction. Not that he did the Right Thing in the slightest, but his mistake is very human and probably meant to be sympathetic. Also, they were all gonna be trapped together for 8 months and we don't know the extent or timeline of what Anya told him so like. Who can say what would have happened. The whole situation is a time bomb whatever Curly might have done.

It is of course interesting to consider how much Curly is responsible for. Obviously he was supposed to keep the crew safe. If not for his overabundance of trust in his subordinates (because they WERE his subordinates, whether he saw them as friends or not), Jimmy wouldn't have been able to put them in that situation in the first place. But at the same time, the game is kind of screaming at us that Jimmy is responsible for his actions. Jimmy is the perpetrator. Jimmy did this to himself and to his friends.

All this to say that like... On a character-to-character basis it's interesting to consider all this, but the game is about Jimmy, at the end of the day, and his actions and his mindset. Curly made mistakes but Jimmy is unequivocally the bad guy in the narrative that has been presented. The story is not presented from Anya's POV, where Curly might be a villain, and Curly's POV segments are limited, meant to give us a more objective view of the OTHER crewmates that Jimmy dehumanizes in his narration, imo. And I find it fascinating that despite the game's insistence that Jimmy is at fault, and the way Jimmy constantly blames his actions on other people (look what you made me do type beat), we as an audience still want to consider that the blame could be split. Maybe it should be. Maybe it shouldn't. Maybe the question is useless, because it already happened. It happened, and it can't be fixed. And only one of these characters was able to actually show us how they would act in the aftermath.

[astrofhobia]

Kat, Earth's voice actor.

So, recently Davis spoke out on a situation that came up in The Lunar and Earth Show fandom.

From what I understand, Kat, Earth's voice actor, is receiving a lot of hate, not only against her characters, but also against her for one of the most recent videos.

I never give my opinion so publicly but I think it would be good to show support for Kat.

It's stupid. All those people who come here to talk nonsense about Earth stepping out of her role of being the good and positive one are very stupid.

All or most of the cast have been through morally negative situations. Moon has abused his own brother for many years, and continues to do so. And it seems like the fandom is constantly covering its eyes to ignore this. But hey, Earth can't deny someone a hug because she becomes the mean girl and the worst character ever. Can you see how stupid this argument sounds?

Maybe, I understand that when the character was introduced it got negative reviews. Literally, they never worked with anyone other than Davis or Reed and introducing a new VA was to take you out of your zone. But, continuing to look at Kat in a bad way is the behavior of a child.

You can't expect an amazing story either, guys, specifically this group of people who are attacking Earth so much, you're not paying for a video service. You're not spending a single cent. As far as I know, Davis, Reed and Kat have spent money to maintain quality content day after day. The show has been updated every weekday for over two years.

Kat has done her best to adapt to the audience's tastes, not the other way around. She has done her best not to be an empty character. But the people who attack her don't even bother to see how their characters have evolved positively. Earth has such an empty story because the audience doesn't even pay attention to it.

You can't expect to have an amazing, original story if every time Kat holds the mic you look away. It's stupid.

Kat has been a great support for the story of like three different shows. I think these people who just want to hate something don't realize how boring the show would be without an intervention.

It's a disgusting thought to hate a fictional character just because she's a woman. And it's repulsive to hate a VA for being female. Are you stupid? Because that's the first thing I think if your main argument is "She's a woman, we don't need that"

I'm not a fan of any of the three VAs. I don't like them personally, but I'm going to defend them, especially Kat if they get any hate for this.

You can't put Bloodmoon, who tortured, manipulated, and murdered so many people, on a pedestal and throw trash and hate at Earth just for existing. It's stupid.

I understand if Kat has distanced herself from the fandom and doesn't want to have contact with the audience directly. Just because you are a public figure doesn't mean you have to swallow all the hate and keep smiling. Kat is not just a source of entertainment. She is a human being, who has emotions, thoughts and a limit.

If you have crossed her line, the only thing you can do is step back and leave her alone. No one would like to receive immense amounts of hate because their character is not to everyone's taste.

If you are part of this group of horrible people, I ask you to please leave. I don't want those people here.