#you know a language and can theoretically write in one that has an A

[lastoneout]

Wait I have polls and I can do whatever I want. Okay re: this poll

Feel free to explain your answer in the tags! I'm actually really interested in this bcs I draw my As so much like my stars that, as the first letter of my name is A, in my signature it comes out looking like a half-finished star.

[honey-tongued-devil]

[Arcane preference]reacting to their s/o calling them husband/wife for the first time

I’ve finished the first chapter of the long fic about Universe 7 (Anytime it rains). As soon as my second beta reader gives me the okay, I’ll post it. While I wait, I’ve written the first headcanon (out of three I’m definitely planning to write and post in the next few days) and picked up the drawing of Steb I’d left unfinished. I’m slow, as usual, but English isn’t my first language, and I’m juggling a lot of things at once. Enjoy!

socials: | INPRNT | | Tip Jar | | X | | BlueSky | | Ao3 | poster: | Jayce poster | | Silco poster | |Silco +self insert poster 1| | Steb poster | if you want to read the fluff longfic with vander and his happy family + Silco x reader you can find it here! �� Masterlist

Jayce:

-This man is planning to put a ring on your finger as soon as possible, okay? -Between the academy, public appearances, and both theoretical and practical studies, there isn’t a single moment when he’s really in the right mindset to bring up the topic -The worst part is that, deep down, he’s terrified of putting pressure on you -That’s why, the first time he hears you refer to him as “my husband” during a gala with noble families, he almost chokes -He has to gather all his strength not to grab the interlocutor by the shoulders and ask if they also heard you say that word -He’ll try to keep his composure, maybe responding to your remark with, “Yes, exactly. Her husband really did say/do/design that.”

Viktor:

-It’s not a thought he’s ever really entertained; it never crossed his mind -Part of it is that science is his priority, and part of it is that marriage doesn’t seem like something meant for people like him, -The first time you call him “your husband”, that thought suddenly becomes real in his head, and he can’t help but lean against a wall and wait for the other person to leave -“So, I’m your husband now, huh? Mmm… I don’t mind, a bit pretentious, though…” he jokes, making you roll your eyes -Now, more than ever, he has no idea what to do. He’ll give you a bronze ring from a machine he’s building -“Until I can get one worthy of you.”

Ekko:

-Yes -That’s it -The end -Okay, seriously. The idea of being certain that something will last forever is probably his greatest wish -The first time you call him your husband, he doesn’t see it coming -“Wait, you’re married?” -“I was talking about you, Ekko.” -The moment you say it, he points to his chest, you see his lip tremble slightly, and his eyes grow shinier -He won’t stop talking about it for a week, and at least once a day, he’ll ask if you still want to marry him, if you’re sure, if you love him -No rings before S2; the promise is made by drawing something for each other on your masks and clothes -After S2, he still can’t afford a ring, but now that life is more stable, he can start thinking about a more traditional gift, like a piece of jewelry

Vander:

-This man is ravenous for any family role you might offer him—fiancé, father, husband. Anything goes -The first time you call him “husband”, he plays it cool but will seize the first opportunity to return the favor by telling a customer you’re married -As soon as he can, he’ll squeeze your hand, even under the counter -The idea of being married and having a complete family is everything he’s ever wanted -He won’t stop calling you “my beautiful wife/husband” from that moment on.

-You said it first; you can’t take it back. Now you have to get married

Silco (old man):

-This man’s only sin is loving too much, but I’ll save that reflection for another post -Having no ties other than his illegitimate daughter doesn’t make him someone who’s particularly keen on formalities -The first time you call him “your husband” is in front of Sevika, and he slowly turns to look at you, while she slowly turns to look at him -“Did I... miss something?” Sevika asks, but he doesn’t reply, still perplexed, before glancing at her and saying, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” -He’s relieved but doesn’t show it. He can’t afford to just yet -As soon as he confirms you were serious, your name will be flamboyantly forgotten—he’ll constantly refer to you as “my wife/husband”

Silco (young):

-The man who survives on love -The first time you call him your husband is in front of Vander, and while Vander bursts out laughing, Silco chokes on his drink -“Are you serious?” He’s so happy that his pale iris are completely swallowed by his dilated pupils -He grabs a pen and draws a ring around your finger -To his credit, he works in a mine, so it’s hard to do better than that, but it becomes the goal that keeps him going -Completely focused on family, the future, and anything that sees the two of you together and happy

Steb:

-The first time you call him your husband is at a dinner among enforcer families, and being mute doesn’t stop him from stealing the spotlight -He whips around, blinking slowly with only his third eyelid in a gesture of confusion -When he’s 100% sure he understood what you said, his eyes widen, the small membranes under his eyes flutter madly, and even the barely visible gills near his jaw gasp for a moment -Someone says, “I didn’t know you were married,” and he immediately nods enthusiastically, not giving you time to take it back -Within 48 hours, he’ll have the ring ready

Jinx:

-The first time you call her “your wife”, she freezes -“What did you just call me?” -She’s used to being a little sister, a big sister, a daughter—she’d never thought she could be a wife. Family ties aren’t chosen, but the idea that someone would want her in their life so much they’d marry her feels incredible -“You want to marry me? Really? Why?” -She bursts into tears, and it’ll take at least 24 hours of cuddling in bed to calm her down -After that, she’ll run to her father to announce that she’s now a married woman

Vi:

-She might not be Silco and/or Vander’s blood daughter, but she’s inherited their deep desire for family -From her family’s tragic fate to Vander’s, she’s always seen family as the ultimate aspiration -When you call her “your wife” for the first time, she doesn’t notice right away, but a full minute later, she whirls around to look at you, as if to ask for confirmation -“Say it again.” -“...You need to buy bread?” -“No, all of it.” -“My wife needs to go buy bread.” -“Again.”

-"My... wife?"

-"Again"

Caitlyn:

-Has she thought about it? Yes -Was she planning to act on it? Not exactly -Caitlyn struggles with emotions and feelings, which is why she hesitates and takes her time -But when you first call her “your wife”, her brain completely shuts off—she just stares at you, unable to hear a single word being said -If you or someone else asks her a question, she’ll snap out of it and respond, -“My wife/husband said everything.” Even if it makes no sense as an answer, making you laugh and leaving the other person baffled

Mel:

-Not a single flicker of surprise—the first time you call her “your wife”, she remains completely composed -“So, I’m your wife?” she asks as soon as you’re in private, approaching you like a feline. You can almost hear the purr in her voice -She’s amused but also intrigued by whatever game you’re playing -The idea of marriage is complicated for her—on one hand, it feels like it would limit her freedom to act, while on the other, unresolved family issues seem to devour her at the mere thought of starting a new cycle -She’ll tell you to go ahead, to get married, but she’ll also ask for time -In the meantime, though, she’ll start using the term “husband/wife” with you—she likes the way it rolls off her tongue

Sevika:

-Between the work she does, the environment she lives in, and all the interesting circumstances of her life, marriage has never been on her radar -Not to mention that in Zaun, it’s not exactly a common practice—people just move in together and build families when they can, without much fuss over formalities or bureaucracy -The first time it happens, she’s playing cards with the other goons, and you casually ask if “your wife is winning” -Her first reaction isn’t even hers—it’s the others’. Dustin, the blond goon with the lazy eye, almost starts crying, embarrassing her -Don’t worry, she’ll make you pay for it at home -She won’t ask to formalize anything, but in true Zaunite fashion, she’ll consider you married, plain and simple

[certaimromance]

𝜗𝜚 Theoretically Yours.

Spencer Reid x Fem!reader

Summary: After a series of murders at your university, the FBI has decided to give you a bodyguard. The problem is that he is extremely cute and can hardly protect himself, especially from you and your charms.

Words: 1,9k.

Warnings & Tags: mentions of murder, crime, blood and also a plot twist???. spicy insinuations. spencer from the first seasons with GLASSES meow. english isn't my first language (sorry for my mistakes, be kind please).

Note: I'm really excited about this, I love Spencer Reid in all seasons, but in the early ones he had something different that drove me crazy. Also, this is the first time I write here and I'm nervous.

♡ Enjoy! ♡

It was supposed to be a normal day, but agents showed up at your door to stop you from going to class and left you under the watchful eye of the youngest of them, Dr. Spencer Reid. It was a precaution to protect you from the killer who has been stalking the campus, killing girls with similar profiles to yours.

You weren't afraid and insisted that it wasn't necessary until you saw him. The mere thought of spending time alone with the man made you more excited than you would have liked. He was very tall, skinny and could barely look you in the eye for more than five seconds without looking away absolutely blushing.

You had decided not to talk to him or act suspicious, but for some reason you liked the idea of him helping you with your biology homework. You were studying pre-med at the behest of your parents and were having trouble understanding some of the material. Spencer saved your life when he offered to help you and told you about his multiple doctorates.

“You are amazing, like a genius.” You said in surprise when he read the big book you had on the table in just five minutes and left a bunch of notes in it.

He blushed again, trying to adjust his glasses to hide it so it wouldn't show. Reid was doing his best to be professional and not let his guard down, he had to be vigilant in case you were in danger.

“It's nothing. I hope it helps you.” He said, giving you a little smile.

You nod and look at the television behind him. They were airing a new report on the latest murders, showing photos of the victims and interviews with family members. Everyone cried and repeated how unfair it was to lose their prodigy daughters to a madman. You thought about how they made such a simple TV show about spilled blood without thinking about it, just trying to paint the girls who had tormented you for several years as white doves.

“Don't worry, you're safe here. I can promise that.” Spencer spoke as he followed your gaze. He was trying to comfort you and take away any fear with his presence.

“I know.” You smile at him with innocence. You were more than capable of protecting yourself and you knew it.

There was an awkward moment of silence, so you offered him coffee to break it. You went to the kitchen and poured two cups, watching from afar as he talked on the phone in the meantime. You couldn't help but notice the nervousness in his voice as he repeated to his colleagues that all was well with you.

“She's pretty, isn't she?” Penelope's voice rang through the phone in Reid's ear and sent shivers down his spine. “I saw some pictures in internet.”

“I...maybe...yes.” He mumbled, trying not to let you hear him. "How does that matter or help the case?"

As you used the coffeepot, Spencer looked you over from head to toe. He couldn't deny how attractive you were and how much his heart raced when you were around. His extreme lack of flirting skills and his clear differences with you saved him from the temptation you were.

“Just have fun, lover boy. You need it.” The woman smiled proudly and hung up the call before he could answer.

The two poured cups were already on the table, you sat down on the sofa by the window to start reading the notes he had left in your medical book. His impeccable handwriting made you shudder, it was unbelievable that someone with so much knowledge would waste time trying to take care of you from yourself and not even realize it.

“You're okay?” He asked with a soft voice, sitting in front of you.

“Yes, just reading your notes.”

“Sorry, I put too many. But I can mark the important ones for you.” He gently took the book from your hands and began to place himself between the paragraphs with one of his fingers.

Your eyes fell on his hands, the way he moved them over the pages of the book bringing inappropriate thoughts to your mind. You hadn't noticed before how perfect every part of him seemed, especially now that he was spouting complex biological terms without even flinching. You were aware of your own intelligence and proud of it, but you would have liked to be like him...or at least have him around.

“Is something wrong?” He asked confused as he noticed how you had been watching him.

“Sorry. I was thinking of biology...nothing better to look at to understand the theory.” You said to justify your indiscretion.

“Oh sure, it helps. According to several studies, the human being has three main systems for perceiving information: visual, auditory and kinesthetic.” He began to explain quickly. “This theory was put forward in 1988.”

“Maybe that can help me.” You suggested, trying to look away from him.

He nods and start to talking again.

“You were watching, that was visual. And you heard me talking before, that was auditory.”

“And what is kinesthetic?” You asked, even though you knew what the answer was.

Spencer swallowed before speaking, trying to hide his nervousness at the sudden change in tone of the conversation. He was glad to know that he had been able to turn the situation around and put the recent crimes out of his mind, he had been worried that they would affect you.

“Is what is learned through sensation and movement.” He finally said with his voice trembling slightly.

“Can I...?” You try to ask, but he nods before you can finish the sentence.

You stop looking into his eyes and take his hand, put it on your legs and start tracing lines with your finger over his scarred veins. You could feel him shudder every time you touched him, and his mutterings about the technical names of each became inaudible.

“This is the radial artery, provides oxygenated blood to the hands and fingers.” You start to talking, looking him to the eyes again and letting your hand enjoy the softness of his.

“Yes...yeah, it is.” His voice came out as a whisper, as if he was losing control of the situation. No one had ever touched him in such a way before.

The smell of coffee mixed with his cologne is almost addictive and begins to drive you crazy. Just touching his hands was not enough, something inside you wanted more and the ideas running through your head began to torment you. You knew it wasn't right and that your own sanity was in jeopardy, he was one of the good guys and you not so much. It just wasn't right for you to mix, let alone under the current circumstances.

“I should check the perimeter.” Spencer rose from his seat and slowly moved his hand away from yours. He need to go away before something incorrect happened.

All the words were caught in your throat at that moment. You didn't want him to walk away yet.

“It's not necessary.” You got up after him, preventing him from walking to the door and being able to leave. “Everyone is in their classes now, the residence is empty and your coffee is going to get cold.”

Spencer knew you were right. He couldn't go against logic, so he sat back down on one of the couches and took a sip of the coffee you had poured for him. He did his best to avoid your gaze, but it was impossible when you were looking out the window and absentmindedly sipping your coffee.

“Do you think they'll find the killer?” You asked, trying to make conversation after watching through the glass as police cruisers drove around campus.

“Of course, no one else will have to get hurt and everything will be back to normal for you.” He replied without taking his eyes off you.

“I don't think you get to decide that.” You blurt out without thinking.

The phrase and your tone were enough to make him stand up and walk towards you. He put a hand on your shoulder out of inertia, to give you support and reassure you a little.

“You don't need to be afraid.” He gave you a small reassuring smile and you felt the warmth of his touch.

You took a tentative step toward him, shortening the distance between your bodies. You raised your gaze to meet his, feeling at his mercy because of the difference in height. You weren't thinking too hard and didn't hesitate to put your hand on his cheek, caressing it.

“What are you doing?” He asked, trying not to get carried away by your touch.

“To thank you for being here and helping me.” You had a burst of courage and stood on tiptoe to give him a resounding kiss on the cheek.

Then you moved your face far enough away to look at him and see his blush. He looked so affected by a simple kiss on the cheek that you couldn't help but move closer again, this time with his fingers on your chin.

“You can't. We can't.” He stopped the approach just a couple of inches from their lips colliding.

“Why? Because I'm part of your job?” You questioned in frustration, unable to tear your eyes away from his mouth.

“I'm here to keep you safe.” He tried to sound calm and professional, though his voice trembled.

“I'm very safe now.” You assured him, grabbing his arms and wrapping them around your waist. “No one can hurt me here.”

Without Spencer being able to notice, a small moan escaped him at your action.

“There's a killer on the loose.” He insisted, trying to be the voice of reason even though he couldn't look away from your lips.

“Trust me, a kiss won't bring him here. I'm sure of it.” You replied as you noticed him slowly pulling away from you.

A curse tried to come out of your mouth at the rejection and lack of his touch at your waist, but before you could finish it, his lips were on yours and his hands were pressing you against him.

His lips were as soft as his hands, but the way they moved over yours was not soft at all. At first, even his tongue seemed to ask your permission to continue. It took several seconds of clear acceptance before the uncertainty of his kiss disappeared and was replaced by need.

You took advantage of the fact that you were in front of the big couch to push him off and you both fell on top of him, having only a few seconds to catch your breath before continuing. He gave you a quick, tender kiss before pulling his hands away from your back to remove his glasses, which were already fogged up and out of place. But your hand stopped him just before he could put them down on the table.

“Do not take off your glasses. I really like them.” You whispered still over his mouth.

“As you wish.” He said before kissing you again and letting himself enjoy himself under you, without thinking about anything else.

At that moment you knew that maybe committing a few more murders to keep him around wasn't such a bad idea.

[itwasntimethatdidit40]

A good grade.

Pairing: Perv Art Professor!Joel x afab!reader Words count: 4844 Rating: +18, MDNI Summary: You always thought you would have a future in the art world, until you met Mr. Miller, your professor who decided to make your life hell. What are you willing to do for a good grade? Tags: perv!Joel, soft!Joel, power imbalance, degradation, smut, blackmail, reader is described having female genitalia, no other description of her is given, unspecified age gap (in my mind 24/45 but you can imagine whatever, they’re both grown up anyway), unprotected p in v (reader is on the pill but you know, do better irl), oral (f receiving), mention of blowjob, edging, edging with a brush, creampie, pet names, slurs, Joel has a dirty mouth, a lot of swearing, some reader's thoughts marked in italics.

Disclaimers: English is not my first language, very poorly proofread, no beta, it's all my fault and I'm very sorry! I like art but I'm not an expert, I've never taken lessons (well, in high school I did but it was art history and it was only theoretical) and I don't really know how they work, I made it all up so if it doesn't adhere to reality please excuse me. I hope you like it anyway, the other morning I woke up with the idea of ​​Joel painting me as one of his French girls (heheheheh) and I started writing this thing 💀

If anyone wants to be added or removed from the taglist, please let me know. Thanks to anyone who reads, I hope you like it ♥️

You’ve always loved art, since high school it’s always been your favorite subject and drawing and painting your outlet, your way of expressing yourself. Your teachers have always praised you, considering your works not only perfectly executed but significant, mature, full of pathos. Everyone has always told you that you had an eye for recognizing artistic value, you’ve always been the best in your class and you’ve worked hard to get here.

You graduated with excellent grades and were accepted into a prestigious master's program. You would like to become a professional artist or at least an art critic.

You had a bright future ahead of you, until you met Professor Joel Miller.

He has done nothing but criticize you, your skills and your work from the very first day. 

And he always does it deliberately, in front of everyone else. No matter how hard you try, you never get more than F for every work you submit. The disdain with which he treats you makes you feel like a failure and your breath die in your throat every time he lays eyes on you and says the most hateful words you’ve ever heard about yourself. Today it happened again. You spent sleepless nights working on this portrait, begging the model called by Professor Miller to see you after class hours. You even offered to pay her and she was kind, she didn’t ask for an outrageous amount despite the fact that she could have taken much more lucrative jobs instead of posing for you. You’re just a master’s student trying to support herself by working nights in a bar. 

“What is this?” he thundered looking at your painting “You are only getting worse, miss, I have never seen anything like this. It is indecent that a person like you tries to make art, it should be prohibited by law. Look at this, wrong proportions, no harmony, no attention to detail, nothing. This does not even look like the same person I had pose for hours in front of you. You should be ashamed to present a work like this after 6 months of course” 

You won't be able to finish your master's degree unless you get a passing grade in Professor Miller's course, but he doesn't seem at all inclined to give you even a measly D.

It’s a nightmare.

You'd be forced to start all over again, ask your parents for financial help, which is the last thing you want to do when they've already sacrificed so much to help you pay for college, or do the unthinkable and give up on all your dreams, the career you have cultivated with strength and passion throughout your life up until now.

You decide to make a last-ditch effort and try to talk to Mr Miller during his office hours.

You've always avoided it until now because you thought things would get better but it's the third F you get and you can't afford to go on like this. 

The idea of ​​being alone with him doesn't excite you at all, but you hate losing everything you've worked so hard for even more.

You take a deep breath before knocking on the door, terrified of what he might say to you.

Mr Miller is also an established artist and his work has been appreciated abroad so his disapproval could really preclude you from many opportunities. 

“Come in” even from behind closed door his voice sends shivers down your spine.

You walk in muttering “good afternoon” feeling like a complete idiot, you are already convinced that it was a mistake to come to him, nothing will change his mind. 

Joel is sitting behind his desk, frowning as he corrects tests. He looks up from the papers only when you are in front of him “Oh. it's you,” he says in his usual dismissive tone of voice “What do you want miss?” 

You clear your throat and murmur, “I...” his gaze is already back on the tests, he doesn't even look at your face as he fills the paper with red marks and writes a big circled F at the top, the assignment of some other hapless person like you who will find himself failing his class. Incredible anger mounts in your body, you clench your fists and say "excuse me" in a stern voice. 

It infuriates you, it's maddening how he can't even treat you as a human being for a second. 

"What do you want?" he asks annoyed looking back up at you "and be quick about it, you are wasting my time." 

“I'd like to know what I need to do to have you evaluate me favorably” you try to keep your tone as detached and respectful as possible even though you despise the man in front of you with every fiber of your body. 

“Nothing, you can't do anything, I thought you had figured it out by now, are you also stupid besides not having the slightest talent?”

“Actually...fuck, I don't think I am that bad. And I think you are judging me too harshly,” you spit out feeling tears stinging your eyes. You promised yourself to keep calm but the way he is treating you only makes you want to insult him.

“I advise you to moderate your tone if you don't want to be expelled as well as failed in my class.”

He has the upper hand, you can't do anything about it. A sense of frustration and helplessness crackles under your skin as you plead with him, “Please Mr Miller there must be something I can do to change things. Anything...I…I don't want to fail.” 

An evil grin paints on his face “how much do you care about it?” 

“It's the only thing I care about, please, art means everything to me” you look at him feeling your whole essence crumble in front of him, you are desperate and tired of struggling, you just want to find a way to work things out. You have very good grades in all the other courses, he is the only one stopping you from achieving what you want most in the world.

“Actually you could do something to make it better,” Joel suggests, and you cry, ”Please, I'll do anything.” 

“Anything?” he probes ”are you sure?” His smug, dangerous expression unnerves you, maybe you shouldn't have made yourself so vulnerable in front of him, but there's no turning back now. "Yes," you shriek.

He leans against the back of the chair while continuing to sneer under his mustache “Well, then I have an offer for you. I'm working on a series of paintings of women, you could pose for me.” 

“Me?” you ask confused, the last thing you expected was for him to ask you to paint you.  

“Why not, if nothing else you're pretty,” he admits, and it's the first nice thing about you that's ever come out of his mouth. 

You wonder what the scam is behind his proposal, it can't be that easy, he's probably going to ask you to pose with some repulsive animal or in a way that makes you look completely idiotic or he's just pretending that this is the solution but then he's going to blackmail you and make you regret setting foot in his office.

He writes something on a post-it note and hands it to you “Meet me at this address tomorrow night at 8” he orders you “don't be late” 

“I really...” you try to say. 

“What? Is there something more urgent you need to do besides securing good grades?” he raises an eyebrow scrutinizing your astonished face. 

“No it's just that...I'm supposed to be working at that time.” You mutter.

“Well get your shift changed, or ask someone to fill in for you, pretend to be sick, I don't care, just show up.” He barks at you. 

“Okay,” you agree. You can't say no, it's your last resort, either that or total defeat. 

You walk out of his office with the feeling that you have gotten into big trouble. 

_____________________________

You get confirmation of this the next day when you show up at the address written by Professor Joel. It's on a suburban street with little traffic, in front of you is what looks like an abandoned former factory. A blast of cold air makes you shiver as you ring an old intercom near the front door. You huddle in your coat, wondering where the hell you are. Maybe he gave you the wrong address just to make fun of you, you took two buses to get here, at the very least you'll soon find out your professor isn't even here. 

Surprisingly, he answers you instead, his thick voice ordering you to come up. You enter through the doorway into a dusty, bare lobby, only an old freight elevator in front of you. You push the button and the elevator car begins to descend with a sinister, metallic sound. "What the hell is this place?” you ask yourself "my god, I'm going to end up dead and thrown in a dumpster". You get on the elevator with your heart in your throat praying that there isn't a serial killer waiting for you on the other side. 

The doors suddenly open wide onto a large room with concrete columns. You step out and look around, there is a large table in the corner, chock full of artists' materials, tempera, canvases, oil paints, watercolors, all thrown in bulk. Various canvases are resting on pedestals scattered around the room, and others lie leaning against the wall. There is an old leather couch in the corner and a double mattress resting on wooden pallets on the other side. Several rugs are spread on the floor. It's all messy and chaotic, but it definitely has the look of an art studio. 

"Oh, you're here at last," Joel grunts, popping up from behind a pillar holding a dirty brush stained with red tempera. 

He is wearing a pair of frayed jeans and a white T-shirt stained in paint, he is disheveled and barefoot. 

He doesn't even look like your professor; he always wears suits and perfectly ironed shirts at university. 

Two large leaded windows divided into small squares open on the wall in front of you. 

It’s dark by now, so the entire room is softly lit by several lamps and candles scattered around. 

“Where should I stand to pose?” you don't intend to put in more than is necessary; spending time with this obnoxious man is the last thing you want to do today. 

“Sit on the couch,” Joel orders, pointing to the old leather ruin to your right, ”I'll prepare the necessities and we'll get started.” 

You sit, quietly, dreading what lies ahead. 

Joel picks up a blank canvas and places it on a stand, takes a graphite pencil from the table and orders you " Undress" 

You squint your eyes, squeaking “I'm sorry, what?”

“I'm making a series of artistic nudes, didn't I tell you?” he grins 

“No, you don’t” you retort. 

Fucking bastard. 

“Strip” he repeats firmly. 

“But I don't-”

“Look, you're already irritating me, either take off your fucking clothes or get out of here” 

You've seen people pose nude in your art classes before, even in Professor Joel's class, and all you've ever cared about was doing a good job, but now it's different. It's just you and him, in a place in the middle of nowhere, you weren't warned before, and more importantly, he makes you uncomfortable. 

His gaze has done nothing but judge you from the first moment it landed on you. You don't want to lose that last bit of dignity you still preserve and let him see you in your most intimate form. 

“So what have you decided?” Joel presses you. 

With extreme reluctance, you begin to take off your coat, laying it on the couch. What else can you do? By now you have fallen into a trap, either you do this or your grade at the end of the course will be F. 

F for failure.

“Damn asshole,” you think, ”I hope I never see you again in my life after your fucking course is over.” 

The resentment must be clear on your face because Joel mocks you “Oh come on, don't pout like that. There's nothing underneath that I haven't seen a hundred times before. It's just tits and a cunt” he concludes in a dismissive tone, crossing his arms over his chest impatiently.

He rolls his eyes when after some hesitation you slip off the T-shirt you are wearing, revealing a light pink lace bra. 

He curls his lips "cute," he whispers in a lascivious tone " take that off too." 

“But Mr Miller I...” you try to retort

“Go ahead and take it off,” your arms reach for your back, you undo the hooks of your bra and drop it to the floor. You cannot believe this is happening, you are bare-chested in front of your professor. 

"Very well..." he acquiesces, "you see, everything is easier when you cooperate." 

He strokes his beard as he glances at you remove your shoes and pulling down your jeans, the same smug, dangerous smile he had in his office returns to peep across his face.

“Good girl.” 

You feel a knot in your stomach. And you who thought that commitment and talent were enough to get results...poor naive girl. 

You should get out of here and go to the dean and report him for unethical conduct but you suddenly realize that he may be the first, but he won't be the last. 

"Lie down on the couch," Joel whispers to you, his gaze not leaving your body, hungry and demanding. 

You don't want to be here, yet you feel you can't do anything else at this point. 

"Raise your right arm above your head," Joel instructs, "and bend your legs slightly." 

“Like this. Don't move," Joel stands in front of the canvas and begins to trace marks on the surface. His hand moves quickly, his fingers run over the traced lines smudging them. 

You remain still as he ordered you, feeling goosebumps across your body and your nipples harden from the cold. 

You have to admit to yourself that it is fascinating to watch him work; his gaze is alert and sure, his hands move expertly and competently. He is certainly talented. 

Joel observes the work done so far, scratching his chin, adding a few touches here and there as his eyes scan the entire surface of the canvas.

Maybe he really just wants to paint you and you're making a big deal out of nothing, maybe this will end well after all. He moves the easel to one side of the sofa you assume to look at you from another angle until he growls “Spread your legs for me, darling” 

“But I don't-”

“I need more shadows on your  body”

“What?” you glance at him, this sounds like a lame excuse. 

“Spread your legs” he repeats ”come on” 

You do so, feeling his eyes everywhere on you, feeding on every uncovered inch of your skin. And for some reason you cannot explain, you feel your body react under his gaze. You peak at the outline of his cock straining under his jeans, a rush of adrenaline rushes through you, a flush of arousal between your legs. 

No, you can't. 

You cannot crave for him to look at you. He's your professor who lured you here under false pretenses. 

Yet you realize how incredibly handsome he is. So far you had only thought of him as your teacher and had never truly paused to observe him, especially since he always treated you like a dirtbag. 

“Perfect, now stay still like this,” he mutters.

He hums as you do “Such a good girl for me” in a mellifluous and manipulative tone.

You feel his voice penetrate deep into your bones and another thrill of arousal runs through you all, gliding under your skin and straight to your pussy. 

This is so fucked up but on the other hand you are thrilled by the idea of ​​ending up in one of his paintings.

He makes a couple of changes to the sketch and then walks over to you, sitting on the armrest of the couch. He watches you intently, as if he wants to study every tiny detail about you, you still have your panties on but you've never felt more naked than that.

“Hmm, someone is wet.” he observes, gazing at the wet spot on your underwear. “It’s all for me?”

“I…uh…no, absolutely not” You don't want to admit it even to yourself but the situation is turning you on, no matter how wrong it is. 

“Honey, I advise you never to play poker,” he sneers. You look at him puzzled, and he adds, “You're not good at bluffing at all.”

When he reaches out a hand to touch you, you almost tremble, it's as if your body is crying out to him “take me. use me.”

All you ever wanted from the beginning was his approval and now somehow he seems to recognize something in you. You just want to stop arguing, to stop fighting, to stop feeling like you are worth less than nothing, you just want to know that you still have a future that consists of not settling for a job that you don't love and doesn't allow you to feel fulfilled and let you get the results you know you deserve. 

And most of all, you want him to be on your side.

“You're such a pretty little thing, you know that?” his voice gruels as his fingers run from your ankle to your knee and then up to your inner thigh. You stiff, feeling your heart raging up under your ribcage and a fresh flush of arousal dampening your cunt.

How did you never realize how sexy this man is? Now that his gaze has softened you notice the deep brown of his eyes, with some hazel undertones, and how he lights up as he stares at you. 

God, you want him so bad right now. 

You are almost on the verge of grabbing his wrist and placing his big hand on your pussy already, but you decide to let him. 

His fingers move slowly over your skin; instead of touching you where you need it most, his hand stops at your hip, fiddling with the hem of your panties. 

"Can I?" he grunts. 

You nod silently and he demands “I need you to use your words, baby. Speak to me”

“Yes” you breath 

He grins as he places his other hand on your hip and begins to pull down your panties. You lift your pelvis to ease him, and he comments, "mmm, so eager. You’re such a slut, aren’t you?”

You feel your cheeks on fire as you cannot take your eyes off him, desperately in need of his hands, his lips, his tongue and his cock. You want it all, right now. So maybe he’s right, you’re a slut and you don’t even care. 

Joel calmly moves your panties down your legs and brings them to his nose, inhaling your scent. “Sweet. I bet you taste even better.”

He gets up from the couch, tucking your panties into his jeans pocket, and takes a clean brush from a container resting on the table. He sits back right next to you, and grins. 

He caresses the inside of your leg with the brush, the feeling of the bristles flowing over your skin is incredible, soft and intense at the same time, leisurely moving on your inner thigh, raising up closer and closer to your pussy, his eyes set in yours, mesmerized by you.

You are subjugated by him as he fondles you, going up your belly with his brush, deliberately ignoring your pussy, moving deftly over every curve of your body. It is as if he is painting you, as if he has made you his work of art.

The bristles rub over your rib cage, slowly, then your breasts, moving in concentric circles from your areola to your nipples. He passes the brush back and forth over your hard buds and a deep moan escapes from your throat. “Please, Mr Miller” you whine. 

“You can call me Joel, darling” he whispers “what do you need?” 

“I…fuck” You’re dripping wet, your voice is a wail and your body is itching to be touched. 

“Say it.” he orders you, ”I want to hear it.”

“I want - fuck - my pussy” you blather, you are not even able to form a complete sentence right now.

Joel laughs faintly, descending again on your abdomen, very slowly, until he reaches your mound. He rubs the bristles from right to left lingeringly, then lowering again, descending on your outer lips, first one side and then the other. And then again and again. 

When he finally brushes over your clit, you are so pent up and needy that you arch your back, emitting a throaty moan. 

“Oh God! Oh my God”

Joel lowers the brush to your clit, surrounding it with the bristles, pushing and making concentric circles. He stops when he feels you on the edge. 

And then he does it all again, circling and pressing, jerking your bundle of nerves with the brush. And then a third time. 

You’re a crying mess at this point, mind completely numb and your body covered in sweat.

He spreads your folds with his thumbs and sighs, “Look at this pussy, all nice and wet for me, I can’t wait to dip into your sweet honey, babe”

He throws the brush on the floor, it falls with a dull thud bouncing on the carpet. 

“So fucking perfect” 

You squeeze your eyes whining “please" a riot of emotions assail you, your body is so on the edge you could explode just by the way he looks at you, moistening his lips with his tongue.

He puts his arms around your neck, “cling to me,” he whispers. You do as he says, instinctively encircling his waist with your legs, clinging to his body with all your strength as he carries you to the bed and lays you gently on top.

He undresses, staying in his boxers in front of you. 

You can't take your eyes off him, gazing at his wide shoulders, his broad chest, his soft belly with a thin strip of hair running down into his boxers. 

He kneels on the bed, facing you, gently spreading your legs and moving between them. 

He lowers himself on you, placing a kiss on your clit, making you whimper another pathetic "please." 

He sticks his tongue out and runs it flat across your folds, up and down, one hand firmly clinging to your hip, his fingers digging into your skin. 

"I was right, you taste amazing," he murmurs against your skin. 

You are no longer thinking about anything right now, not about your master's degree, evaluations or the fact that he is your teacher. 

You feel his nose hitting on your clit as he eagerly licks your folds, opening them with two fingers to sink his tongue in. 

You bite your lower lip, stifling your moans, burying a hand in his dark curls, pulling him toward you “oh fuck, yes”.

His tongue encircles your hard clit, swirling around, his lips lace over it sucking greedily.

“You don’t need to hold back, you can be as loud as you want in here, no one will hear us. Let me hear you, baby. I wanna know how you sound when you come” 

He doesn't stop sucking and licking until you feel your orgasm mount inside you like a flooding river, invading your body, curving your toes, clenching your fists on the sheet beneath you and rolling your hips on his face, wetting his lips, his chin, dripping onto your inner thigh. 

“Yeah, baby, come apart on my tongue, just like that”

He licks you clean until you calm down, devouring your juices to the last drop and then looks up at you “you have no idea how beautiful you are, starving for my cock” he groans “god, I must have you right now, I must make you mine, you hungry little whore”

You wait for nothing else, it seems your thirst has no way to quench today.

“Please, Joel,”

He pulls off his boxers, throwing them on the floor, his cock springs free and is incredibly hard, you can't stop looking at it. He's big, so big you don't even know how he's going to fit all the way inside you but you don’t care. “Fill me up, Joel, please”

“Yeah? You want this big cock inside you? Want me to fill you up so good baby?” He grumbles.

“Please, Joel, it’s all I need” you whine. 

He lies on top of you, tapping your lips a few times with the tip, running it along your folds and wetting it with your juices, aligning himself with your opening, “I'll give you what you want, then.”

He nudges at your hole a moment before he enters you, just the tip, pressing gently to let you get used to your intrusion. 

You moan feverishly, clinging to his back, bucking your hips toward him “more, please, more” you plea. 

As he plunges inside you, he stares at your face, as if he doesn’t want to miss a single second of your reactions, when he’s ball deep into you you let out an incoherent whine so graveling it doesn’t even sounds like your voice. 

He begins to pump into you as you circle his waist with your legs again, pushing to feel him deeper, your hands roaming in his graying hair. 

“Here you go, taking me so well princess, you’re so good to me” 

When his lips settle on yours you realize that you had not yet kissed until this moment. His lips are soft, demanding, his tongue penetrates your mouth licking eagerly, and you are more than happy to respond, savoring his taste of mint and cigarettes. 

One of his hands kneads your breast, his fingers close on one of your nipples as his cock doesn't stop sinking inside you.

You moan into his mouth feeling like you are on the edge of a cliff, ready to fall into the sinful pit of hell. 

“Where do you want me?” he whispers in your ear, and your voice comes out broken from the back of your throat  ”Inside. please. I'm - fuck - I'm on the pill.” 

You feel him spilling his load inside you a moment later, painting your inner wall with his hot sticky cum. 

You feel delirious and exhausted, guilty for what you just did. Your moral code has just been shattered under the hot weight of his body.

He kisses you again, lingering on your bottom lip. “You’re so much better than I thought,” he chuckles. 

He moves away from you and stands up naked to return to the sketch. He traces a few lines and makes some adjustments as you stare at him in amazement.

“Can you show me?” you ask. “Yes, come here,” he replies. You get up and stand next to him to observe the canvas. Your body is sketched on it and it looks perfect, you have never seen yourself so beautiful.

“You can go if you want, I’m done for today” 

“I- I don’t want to”

“Do you want more?” he sneers “god, you really are a slut.” he comments as he gets closer to you. 

He fucks you two more times, the first time he makes you get on all fours, licking your pussy from behind and then sinking into you while he holds you by the hips, his cock slamming against your cervix and his balls against your ass. Then you’re too eager to have him in your mouth, to taste your flavor mixed with his, so you offer to give him a blowjob and he fucks your mouth before digging back into your pussy again.

He drives you back to campus. “I may be an asshole, but I won’t let you walk around alone at night,” he says. 

You get out of his car feeling like you’re in a bubble, like everything that happened was just a surreal dream you can’t wake up from. You collapse into your bed after throwing your clothes haphazardly on the floor. When you wake up the next morning you feel like shit. 

You don't know how boldly you will look your classmates in the eye, but you can't skip class, and the thought of seeing Joel again thrills you, no matter how wrong it is. 

When Joel enters the classroom, he ignores you, probably so as not to arouse suspicion; it would be too strange for him to treat you with regard after denigrating you for months.

He begins returning graded tests proceedings slowly as usual, moving between desks and laying down the papers without making any comment. The test that rests on your desk has a circled A at the top.

Tag list: @aurorawritestoescape @baronessvonglitter @lemon-nomel @almostempty @thundermartini @harriedandharassed @pedrostories

[house-of-lovin]

legally binded

Jenna Ortega x F!Reader

masterlist | next part

Summary: After getting caught in some hot waters with the press, you are forced into an unexpected agreement with America's sweetheart, Jenna Ortega to save your career.

Warnings/Tags: famous!reader, mentions of hard substances, intoxication, mature language, real people (do not read if any of these makes you uncomfortable)

Note: Wrote a quick one, I don't usually write about real people so (this is all fiction, don't take it seriously) Can you tell I'm procrastinating on my other WIPs.

Word Count: 2.1k+

“Blacking out at a strip club in Vegas, are you fucking serious?”

Jake, your manager’s voice thunders around the office. 

You sink lower into the armchair, casting your eyes down – ashamed. From your peripheral, you can see Jake pacing up and down behind his desk and yanking at his tie; roughing up his usually neat-suited appearance. 

“Is it bad?” You gather the courage to ask.

There was a lot of shit that Jake lets you get away with. He’s known since you were a young teen with starry-eyed dreams. Except, your dreams did come true. You were living it, working with respected directors and actors on prestigious sets and projects; it was a shot in the dark that you would ever become a working actor much less a critically-acclaimed one but Jake took a chance on you.

But no one had warned you just how much you had to give up in order to keep succeeding at your dream. Work breeds more work, is that what they say?

Well if that’s the case, it certainly felt like it. Since your first big break, you haven’t stopped working. Seemingly flying to every crevice of the Earth to show face at yet another event they had scheduled on your calendar. 

You could barely name the day of the week.

Being in your teens in the public eye was not easy and it hasn’t gotten any easier as you entered your 20s. So they can sue you for trying to have some fun for once in your life. Granted, you may have gone overboard with it… that much you can own up to.

“Is it bad?” He scoffs, reiterating your question in a mocking tone and if it were anyone else you wouldn’t have been able to stave off your annoyance. “Try the end of times… you got locked up in jail. For possession of coke. You can imagine the headlines.”

You wince, clamping your eyes shut. Yeah, that is bad. “It wasn’t mine! It was–”

“Oh, I know whose it was!” Abruptly stopping, he swipes a finger in your direction shutting you up. “You and your little boy-toy can say goodbye to each other ‘til Liv and I fix this goddamn mess.”

“I didn’t know he had it on him, Jake. And he’s not my boy toy.” Your nose screws up in disgust. 

“It doesn’t matter anymore. The media caught wind of your weekend away in Vegas with that singer. Did you really think no one would recognize you with a famous musician in a strip club? They have pictures of you in cuffs, Y/N – you’re lucky you didn’t get pressed with charges for drug possession.” 

You hear the tired disappointment in Jake’s voice and feel guilt crawl around in your chest. No words seem to be good enough to fix the mess you created so you stay silent. You can add this to the list of headlines he has had to clean up recently. You keep your head down, like a petulant child called into the principal’s office – which in this situation, was an accurate comparison.

“You have got to be fucking kidding me, Y/N.” A higher-pitched voice echoes behind you and theoretically, if it were physically possible to pass through atoms, you’d be 6-feet under the Earth’s crust.

Far, far away from Liv.

“I already gave her the talk, Liv. We haven’t got the time. What’s the plan to fix this?” Jake crosses his arms, one elbow propped to hold his heavy head up. The bags under his eyes were a clear indication that like you, he also hasn’t slept since he bailed you out of Clark County Jail – a mere 10 hours ago.

All you knew is that you were waking up in a cold, dingy cell with a nasty hangover and an officer shouting from behind steel bars that someone had posted bail for you. Next thing you knew, you were being escorted out the side entrance of the building and into a blacked-out Escalade then driven to a private tarmac where a jet was waiting to take you back to Los Angeles.

Liv is also someone you accredit your success to. Jake and Liv are partners and often represent clients together. You liked to call them each other’s work husband/wife. Liv is a tough lady, only in her early 30s and already one of the most sought-after PR agents in Hollywood; has a boss-ass bitch attitude and a resting bitch face to match. Where Jake often played the good cop with you, Liv was guaranteed to be the complete opposite. 

Liv rounds the desk, standing beside Jake. She was dressed in business casual clothes but her hair wasn’t done like it usually was – a sign she had rushed over here upon your arrival. Staring you down with a menacing glare before rolling her eyes. “You’re not gonna like it, but I don’t care because we’re way past doing things your way.”

You sit up, a little scared. Liv is not one to mess around with. If she says it’s something you won’t like, you might as well go dig up your own grave. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I have an idea as to how to get some heat off your shoulders. Just until the press can find something else to fuss over.” She waves with a hand, furiously typing on her phone.

You and Jake shared a look, waiting for her to continue. 

“Well, are you going to tell us or not?” Jake huffs, throwing his hands in the air. Was he the only one in this damn room that felt like the sky was falling?

A knock interrupts before Liv can respond. “Hold that thought… Come in!” She holds a finger up, shoving her phone in her back pocket. 

You turn around, curiosity getting the better of you. Only, it was Jake’s assistant popping her head in. “Sorry for interrupting, sir. I know you said not to disturb you unless it was urgent.”

Jake runs a tired hand on his face. “Just get to the point, Em.” He says, not unkindly.

“Miss Olivia’s guests are here for the meeting. I was wondering if I can let them in?” The young assistant says timidly. Anyone can feel the thick tension in the room. No doubt she also saw the headlines plastered all over the internet of your face. There was an urgency in her mannerism that told you she wanted out of this conversation as soon as possible.

“Yes, let them in! Don’t make them wait.” She waves frantically. The door closes, leaving the three of you alone for a moment.

“Liv, what is this?” Jake asks before you can.

“Y/N, control your anger and be kind to our guests. This is for you, remember that.” She plasters a large smile with her last words as the door opens; multiple voices can be heard behind you. What the hell does that mean?

“Miss Ortega, great to officially meet you and Sarah, thank you for meeting us on such short notice.” Your head snaps to the side as Liv steps out from behind the desk to greet the people behind you.

The sight has you struck dumb. Why is Wednesday Addams in your manager’s office?

Granted, you know who she is. Who doesn’t? You can barely drive down any highway in L.A. without seeing her face plastered on some sort of billboard or building. But why is she here, in this office?

“Y/N I’d like you to meet Miss Ortega…” You were still rooted in your chair, just staring at them like an idiot. An uptick of a brow is raised as Jenna watches you remain unmoving. 

“Get up.” Jake kicks the back of your chair as he rounds the desk to greet Jenna and her manager, gritting under his breath. You spring up at the thud, rubbing your back in annoyance. 

“Nice to meet you, Miss Ortega.” You extend your hand when she finishes greeting Jake. 

She stood a good few inches under you, dressed casually in loose pants and a hoodie. She had a pair of sunglasses pushing her hair back, which was tied in a messy low bun; headphones around her neck.

You two have never crossed paths in all your years in Tinseltown – which was surprising considering you two are around the same age. There might have been an event or two that you had attended at the same time but you have never had the chance for a formal introduction. It wasn't difficult to see why the whole world was buzzing about Jenna Ortega.

“Just Jenna is fine.” She slides her hand in yours, sending a small, shy smile. The sparks you feel when your palms connect has you flinching almost imperceptibly. You see Jenna’s eyes snapping toward your connected hands telling you she may have felt it too. But before you can think too hard on it, you’re pulling away from her grasp. 

“Let’s all sit down, so we can tell you why you’re both here.”

Jenna takes the armchair to your left, and you fight to keep your sight straight ahead. “There’s no easy way to break the news. But here’s the CliffsNotes version. Over 24 hours ago, Y/N was arrested in Vegas. The press is having a field day, they already have the paps planted outside her house and every location she frequents. Our solution… a PR relationship, just until all of this has died down.”

You stare deadpan at Liv. Out of all the years, you have known her, this has to be the most balls-to-the-wall, bonkers shit she’s ever said to you. 

“What?” A sweet voice piques beside you, voicing out the shock you weren’t able to verbalize.

“A fake relationship, sweetie.” Her manager, Sarah says in a much sweeter tone than Liv could ever muster.

You can see her shake her head from your side eye. “We agreed to no PR stunts like this, Sarah.”

“I know, Jen. But with the recent controversy online… we just think this may be a good look. Liv called me last night and we came up with this plan and thought it couldn’t hurt with both of your situations.” At least her manager sounded apologetic. 

Jenna scoffs, feeling irritated and ambushed. “No offence, but I can handle a few nobodies online. And my situation is nowhere near as bad as hers. If anything how would pairing me up with someone who does drugs be good for my image.”

Your head snaps to her, nearly growling, “Watch it. You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

She bites back, turning to glare at you. “Is it not the truth?”

“No.”

��We got a drug user and a liar, great.” She mutters under her breath.

“Okay stop! You two don’t have a choice,” Sarah speaks up, sending Jenna a look you didn’t care enough to decipher. 

“Get someone else,” You say to Liv, ignoring everyone else around you. “Literally anyone else, please.” 

Jenna puffs out an incredulous scoff. “Screw you, dude.”

“Screw you too!”

“Jenna!” “Y/N!” The adults of the room shout over one another, chastising you both.

“That’s enough!” Jake shouts, getting you to break your intense glaring at the other actress. Jake’s tone slightly scared you, he was never one to raise his voice. And you knew you were balancing on some very thin and fragile ice with him at the moment. 

“This is the plan and that’s final! Jenna, everyone sees you as America’s sweetheart after the success of Wednesday. As much as it sucks, everyone is watching your next move, personally and professionally. And Y/N, you’ve been in the press for literally all the wrong things this year, and yet, the public can’t get enough of you. It’s good publicity on both sides… So you two will learn to get along – for the sake of both of your careers.” He says with a tone that leaned on threatening and you didn’t have the balls the challenge him on that. 

You had worked too hard for the life you have today just for it to be thrown away by a careless mistake. So if you had to buckle down and act in love with one of the most annoying people you had ever met, in world-record time, then so be it.

“How long…” You mumble, dropping your head in defeat.

“Three months at most. Less the quicker people forget about your night at the county jail.” Liv answers.

“Fine…” You conceded.

A few seconds of silence ring out before she answers, “Fine…”

●●●

Jake and Liv @ Reader:

I swear there's a SpongeBob meme for everything.

:)

[selfaware-bungou-stray-dogs]

hello! how are you? I hope everything is ok, it's me again, sorry for the inconvenience!

But I have a doubt, maybe this can even become a chapter

After the reader returns from Teyvat, all injured, having lost some fingers and teeth (from what I remember from Fitzgerald's chapter), Yosano is the only one who knew the total destruction done to the reader's body (Fitzgerald theoretically also know after having heard Pantalone and Ningguang commenting), having to take care of the reader and having her ability, well, we all know how Yosano's ability works, would she feel bad about having to use her ability on the reader to help him recover (even though it's the only way), besides, being a doctor, she has a greater understanding of things, do you think the reader's situation would make her sadder? Because she understand more about injuries, etc.?

thank you for your attention :)

Count them

Self-Aware BSD AU x SAGAU Imposter crossover

Self-Aware! Akiko Yosano x GN! Reader

Description: Yosano found another reason to hate her ability.

Warning: OOC. English is my second language. Injuries.

Set during last bits of Lost and Found, during Reader being unconscious.

Short fic.

A bit of comfort at the end.

______

Yosano has a strange relationship with "Thou Shalt Not Die".

She wasn't fond of it. Yet, there is no way she will dismiss its usefulness.

The ability was powerful, but, Yosano wished, that it could be activated differently.

But, when she got her chance, she missed it. She choosed something different.

_________

Yosano looked at the screen of Ango's computer. He recently got access to game files and find a way to alter their abilities.

"So... I could either choose my ability be able to heal any decease, be it chronic, internal, or incurable by modern medicine, or have "Thou Shalt Not Die" activated without fatal injuries, but stuck with physical external injuries?"

Ango nodded.

"Yes. I am sorry, but, you can't have both."

Yosano closed her eyes and rubbed her temples.

"Can I have some time to think about it?"

Ango smiles reassuringly.

"Of course, Yosano-san"

Yosano spent whole night, reading about diseases from real world. About experience medicine, about slim chances. And about not having chances.

In the morning, she chooses being able to choose any diseases.

_______

Yosano silently leave your room. She needs one moment to herself.

To write it down.

She returned to her room and took one of her books from the shelf.

A simple atlas medical book.

It took her few minutes to find pen and pencils.

She never thought about that part of her ability. About knowing what injuries her ability have healed.

You have many. And fatal injuries.

In no way it were good news, but, at least, there was no need for Yosano to hurt you more. To use her ability.

Yosano took a pen and opened the book.

Time to write them down.

______

Burned mouth

Broken ribs

Multiple burns on legs, arms

Cut off toes

Removed canines (all four)

Ear bitten off (old injury)

Shoulders were pierced (claws? old injury)

Multiple stabs in the chest (arrow, spears)

Left eye gouged out

Nose broken (not clear, if it was an incident, or from the hit)

All nails torn off

Patches of skin removed (all body parts)

Joint dislocated (rack?)

how dare they...

_______

Yosano hid the book with the list.

She won't show it to anyone.

She won't tell anyone about it.

The anger will fuel. Her anger already burns with rage.

They don't need to know. For nor.

Right now, they should focus on you.

And not on the desire to chop off everything that monsters have.

Right now, she should return to you. And wait for you to wake up.

_______

Yosano rubbed your feet.

"All toes are here." her voice was hushed and soft.

"All toes are her." echoed you.

Yosano carefully rubbed your knees.

"Your knees aren't dislocated."

"They aren't dislocated" repeated you.

It became your daily routine.

Yosano would point at every part of you, that were injured, showing you, reminding you, that you aren't injured anymore. That you are safe. That you aren't in pain.

Yosano finished with you and left for a moment to wash her hands.

When she returns, she sat down on the bed near you.

She squeezed your hand.

"[Y/N]... You will never be hurt again. You will never be scared again."

You nodded weakly. You still were scared. But, even so, you believed in Yosano's words.

Yosano carefully pet your head.

"Let's brush your hair."

Yosano helped you sit up and took a hairbrush from the nightstand.

Carefully and gently, Yosano brushed your tangled hair. You yawned. You had another sleepless night, and brushing made you sleepy. Yosano whispered.

"You can sleep, if you want. I will be here. We will be here."

'I won't leave. You won't dissapear. No one will hurt you. There will be no need to use my ability on you. For me to count them.'

"Sleep, My Dear Dango. Don't be afraid. You are home."

You doze off. You had no dreams. Just a healthy dreamless sleep.

______

Tag list: @myluckymoon @cocodrilofeliz @c4xcocoa @vvyeislazzy @whisperingwinters @nervousinfluencertidalwave @ayameshu @izzieg3987

[blommp717]

I try to follow what you are saying, but I find your content confusing, and based on some of your repeat asks, I’m not the only one. The way you explain ND could use improvement, in my opinion. Maybe it’s because English isn’t your first language or because your understanding of ND is more theoretical than experiential—it seems like both. This is fine, but have you considered improving your English (or teaching in your mother tongue and paying a professional translation service?) and actually living in the ND state of being (not just reading or watching videos about it) before attempting to teach in a language you seem to struggle with? You could be more successful and less misleading.

There’s a lot of misunderstanding and inaccuracies in your writings, and your pinned post gives the impression that you aren’t the type of person to humbly take advice and cultivate self-awareness. Which in and of itself doesn't really reflect what one would expect from a guru or someone who has reached a profoundly deep nondualistic understanding and wishes to guide others. You seem bothered by critique or questions that you haven't already read the answer to. Maybe you could sincerely cultivate Self-awareness of how you are appearing to people who have genuinely experienced the ND state of being, not just an intellectual understanding, and those who have not. Maybe I’m wrong (I very well could be), but it seems like you read about it but haven’t actually had experiences beyond reading and thinking about it. It feels shallow and without real rooting in experience, not just theoretical knowledge. This is just a humble observation from another seeker on the path, so take it with many grains of salt. May you find equanimity and authentic awakening and be of genuine assistance to others. Peace.

I most definitely think you’re coming from a space of aggression instead of actually trying to inquire firstly, moving forward. I don’t really get how people asking questions is an indicator of me not knowing what I’m really talking about as opposed to people learning to accept how easy it is. Allot of these people come from LOA so they think there’s a process, they think there’s work to do, so having such a drastic shift will obviously not feel easy at first 🤭and secondly I’m baffled about the language comment, I have zero clue what makes you think that kind of stuff is okay to say to anyone, regardless of if it’s true or not, please seek some humanity and get it together. You don’t want to be saying all of that b.s to the wrong person. I reallllyy hope you don’t act like this in person with anyone.

Alright so, to what the actual focus of your text should have been.

If you notice, my pinned post was allot more recent than when I started posting, it was more of a response to someone claiming I’m giving false hope and that explaining the idea of “manifestation” alongside non-duality is wrong. Which I’m literally not, im not sure if your truly following up on what I’ve posted because I make it very very clear since the beginning and almost in every post with a long ask that I. Am. Not. Teaching. You. How. To. Manifest. There’s absolutely no such thing, it might look like it and feel like it but it’s not. I even have a post where the entire thing is me talking about why there’s no such thing as manifestation. And I have zero clue where you got any of that information about who I am as a person from that post alone when all I’m stating is how I’m not going to stop helping people? 😭😭

I think another confusion people who “enter” NonDualism have is they think awakening is real. You told me to reach a state of ND being or the State of ND which I’m not really sure what you mean by that because it doesn’t exist. It’s sadly time to burst the bubble. There is no awakening, if you truly understand nonduality, there is no journey, there’s no goal, there nothing that you can do to achieve enlightenment because it doesn’t exist, these are concepts and ideas self realized to give the “self” and “I” a reason to exist. I perfectly well understand what nonduality at its core is and have hundreds of what I’m sure people would call “succes stories” with it. My old posts have plenty of explaining as to what, just, no duality states regardless of getting what you want. How can there be a journey? There is no self thst has a journey, just ideas and thoughts spinning together in a flurry and naming it “self”. You don’t exist.

And for you, you want to understand no duality? I’m going to try not to be cryptic but here we go. You can’t and neither can I , no one can understand and seek, you’re not a seeker and there is no path, this is the truth. And no one can have a journey because there is no identity in any of this, there is no self as a person, there is no “me” on a “path”, there is no “one” here who understands anything. It’s all self actualizing thoughts making it seem like there is a journey, the “I” or what people call ego, needs purpose to exist. It feels like a threat when everything is dissolved. The idea that there is more to do, will be true for as long as you pretend it is. And without the false idea of a journey this “self”or “me” loses its purpose. It can be “hard” to accept but truly it doesn’t matter because the nature of existence will not change. Think about it why does the idea of something higher, a bigger step, some grand moment seem so enticing? And for who does it seem so enticing for? The false identity, the “me” the “self”. It’s just another story. You might sit and be, it may lead you deeper into sensations in the body and most likely a “profound” sense of understanding, but quite honestly if your looking for a tiny spark of magic to keep you going on and thinking there’s even more and even more to experience, it would be absolutely useless.

You are already all, whats there to find

Understanding nonduslity is realizing, how can any of this be more grand if there is only one, how can more be achieve if there is a constant state of nonduality? How can the illusion reach a higher state… the higher state is also just illusory, the self, body and world is just illusory. You as everything are pretending to be a person pretending a self and pretending that this person is also self and needs to understand and reach more profound states of being.

This is how “manifestation” is possible. There is no one and nothing “happening” all there appears to be is what you appear as, it’s hollow, almost like a projection. This can’t be turned off, you appear as all there is and as long as the body is here thoughts will appear, ideas will appear, visualizations will appear, you take it as just thinking or talking to yourself or daydreaming or predicting what might happen next, but that’s all what “manifesting” is. In every timeless moment (instant is not fast enough so I say timeless) stories are realized, you take it effortlessly as how your life is. Simple things like how you expect your parents to respond to you not picking up their phone, or what kind of day at your gonna have at school to literally everything, it’s constant, it’s everything, it’s always “on”. Your luck, the compliments you receive, how things work or don’t work out for you, all of it. This is not just life as it is but the entire “manifestation” it’s an experience of what “it” (you) appears as. And if all is what you are and the appearance relies on the perception of the appearance, then perceiving any type of story like, having brown eyes but you want blue. Okay, “I have blue eyes” this is not an affirmation, this is a truth, this is what “ “ (you) now appear as, timelessly, and needing proof or evidence is useless as it puts the attention back at “has it changed it”. If you understand its all you, you also know needing evidence or proof is truly completely useless. “But I checked the mirror and my eyes are still brown” with what understanding did you move to the mirror with. An expectancy of brown eyes? Hmm.

Well I think this is getting long winded, I’m not gonna make this even longer than it is, hopefully you find some clarity in this and I strongly urge you, before making random comments or being just rude, ask yourself with what state of mind am I moving forward. Do I really need to say it this way? Because truly, I’ll remain here doing what I do, I’m incredibly grateful that I can be able to help so many people so it brings me a sense of joy (though unreal 🤭). But I hope you understand there is a proper way to question and criticize, and well, your claims feel like they were based off reading 2 posts and calling it a day 😭😭. Anyways I actually will thank you regardless, I’m sure many people can learn from what you’ve initiated me to explain, have a great life, I hope to see you come again in future posts 🫶🫀🪷🪷☀️

[onesidedradiostatic]

Prev. https://www.tumblr.com/onesidedradiostatic/768663529880436736/re

Oh I see what you’re saying now! There’s been no “positive integer” of ace Mammon in the show! And you’re right!

I personally don’t hold out any hope that the show will ever cover or explicitly bring it up, outside occasional secondary/metatext, like the pride piece or social media. (I feel similarly about Alastor.) Can’t feel let down by the absence of something you hoped for if you never let yourself hope for anything! <— I tell myself, curled up on the floor. The old and factually incorrect “can’t miss what you never had” fallacy. /sarcasm

I’ve got aroace goggles but they’re not rose-tinted…. Likewise,

“(also having the "good" characters tell the ace character he's unfuckable and that he should keep fucking himself kindaaaaa doesn't sit right with me, I really don't want to read bad faith into mammon being made ace rep but it gets kinda hard like this)”

I feel this too, and nihilistically I feel like it’s just another one of those commonplace things that Hellaverse-style writing tends to use for comedic effect that inadvertently (or via unexamined bias, ie “this came so quickly and naturally to you that you didn’t pause to think about how this could come across to other people in your target audience or if there was a more effective way to do this before giving the go-ahead and locking it in? Ok.” Disclaimer: this is common in lots of media! I don’t intend to say it’s something unique to the H.verse writing. It can happen to anyone, like catching a cold, but it’s the hope that the writing and editing process will catch these instances and make them better, but stuff can slip through, it happens. No offence intended) implies something Less Than Ideal like a harmful stereotype or perpetuating casual bias and then assigning them Morality etc. We don’t need an aspec rendition of the Hays Code/Disney/dudebro film “queer-coded villain who you can tell is bad because they’re queer and that’s bad because it’s not good like the good guy!”

The “You like/don’t like sex/romance? What’s wrong with you? I’m the normal one!” can be toxic/dehumanising in both directions when one side thinks it’s superior to the other. But the common M.O is

- the old “If sex/romance = value/virtue/humanity, Then less/no sex/romance = less/no value/virtue/humanity”

- (Bonus points when it equates sex/romance with the capacity to love and be loved!)

- which when used as an insult is basically just a rehashed cousin of those nice-guy “fuck you you’re ugly anyway” and manosphere “I don’t want to fuck you therefore you have no/negative value”

- weirdly but not that surprisingly, it shares a few vibes with ablism, probably because certain people see aspec as something “missing or defective”. Which has historically been thrown at all lgbtqia+ so it’s sad that it persists from within the queer umbrella

- But, loosely speaking of theoretical connections to ablism… I’m not claiming that fidget toys are exclusively for one type of neurodivergence/or ASD. But there is enough fodder for a potential bad-faith reading “show implies aspec symptom of neurodivergence/ASD, says they’re unfuckable and less valued than neurotypical amatonormatives! correlation does not equal causation!” type thing. I’m too sleepy to go there.

- Saying “you’re unfuckable” to someone who doesn’t want to Do The Fucks isn’t an insult in of itself, (it’s like saying “You’ll never get a girlfriend!” to a gay dude, they’d be like “that’s exactly what I want!”) but the connotation that fuckable= worth as a person, therefore they have no worth, is. Like, you could just say “you’re a worthless piece of shit” and not bring sex into it at all, but it’s Hellaverse and sex is everywhere, including the language. It’s the lingua franca… the lingua fucka?

I could assume a goodish faith usage of insulting an ace character as unfuckable/‘the only person who’ll fuck you is you die mad’* in the “I know this bothers you, so I’m using it to bother you” way. Like how in the pilot Angel used -isms to bother Vaggie. :/

*’the only person who’ll fuck you is you’ is also a bonus trope of ‘aspec people are autosexual/autoromantic or self obsessed’ 😂

But yeah otherwise it sits weird.

There’s so much one could write and explore just on the general topic of “Aspec and Othering in the Hellaverse”, it’s actually fascinating. Whether it’s a good fascinating or bad fascinating is irrelevant though. Gender and Sexuality in horror and horror-inspired media is always a blast to look into. (You can’t tell me Alastor isn’t a little horror inspired. How his aspec-ialty can play a part in his portrayed uncanny-valley not-humanness to other sinners, being part device, performance and contradictory animal, etc etc. There’s heaps to go on if anyone felt inclined. Goodnight tumblr)

(prev)

this is a lot so I don't think I can cover everything here but yeah

I personally don’t hold out any hope that the show will ever cover or explicitly bring it up, outside occasional secondary/metatext, like the pride piece or social media.

alastor was at the very least allowed a verbal confirmation in hazbin itself so I don't think it's impossible for mammon (or octavia) to have allusions to their asexuality in their show, really I accept even subtext. for mammon it's still not even subtext yet, just word of god. but again, I won't fully judge him as bad rep here because obviously the show isn't over yet so reference to his asexuality could still come up in the future, I just had some hope it would happen sooner than later y'know and also ASMODEUS got to show up in full pan wear but we don't get any reference to mammon being asexual?

but yeah sorry this one is kinda nitpicking at this point, moving on, all you said after that yeah exactly what I meant about bee saying no one wants to fuck mammon as an insult, I know it's probably not intentionally shaming an ace character for it but it still can have bad implications even with good intention as just a lighthearted canon-typical joke

and this actually

- But, loosely speaking of theoretical connections to ablism… I’m not claiming that fidget toys are exclusively for one type of neurodivergence/or ASD. But there is enough fodder for a potential bad-faith reading “show implies aspec symptom of neurodivergence/ASD, says they’re unfuckable and less valued than neurotypical amatonormatives! correlation does not equal causation!” type thing. I’m too sleepy to go there.

I'm a bit worried about the infantilisation too, I've already seen people compare mammon talking about sex as an asexual to being like a child talking about sex

and mammon's constant use of toys in the trial doesn't really help with it, I worry that the logic behind mammon as ace rep comes down to "he's too childish and immature to understand sex and just pretends to understand it when he talks about it like a child" and that's on top of the whole "I can't see him caring about anyone legitimately therefore he's ace" logic which I have ALSO seen people say in response to him being ace

I don't want to assume that these were the actual intentions behind making him ace, of course these qualities can co-exist on top of being ace but the problem starts when you start correlating them and I think it's already bad that these are takeaways some parts of the fandom have

maybe I'm judging too early, maybe I just need to wait for mammon to be referenced as ace in the show itself and see how it's treated. but just. idk. there's just a lot of factors at play that makes me skeptical of him as ace rep, I was already skeptical when he was revealed as ace rep in the helluva pride art but this episode's showing of him has made me even moreso. genuinely, I do think having a canon sex-favourable ace is good! great in fact! but I can't praise it just for that when there's no indication of him being ace that you can see from watching the episode, if there is ever an episode that indicates him being asexual while being sex-favourable then I will praise it

anyways sorry for having topics surrounding ace mammon be so negative, I feel like it could overshadow the fact that I still really enjoyed the episode!!

[the-marshals-wife]

Keep Me Close (Tech x Reader)

─ ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ─ ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─

*BELOW THE CUT THERE ARE SPOILERS FOR S2 EP 8: TRUTH AND CONSEQUENCES*

A/N: Happy Valentine's Day, babes! I'm hitting two mynocks with one stone: writing something short and sweet for my favorite Batcher and processing my emotions over [redacted].

Description: Tech x Fem!Reader Batcher, semi-established relationship (there's an unspoken thing *wink*) | Warnings: none, hurt+comfort fluff | Word count: 804 | Gif credit: user dreamswithghosts

★ Bad Batch Tag List ★ @dantes-devil-huntress @sageislostinspring @sweetheart-bo (comment to be added!)

Imagine being unable to sleep, upset by Echo's departure, and turning to Tech for comfort

The ship was stuffy. Your mind was full. The future was uncertain. It was the perfect mixture of reasons to be restless.

You'd removed the top half of your blacks and tied it around your waist, putting on a tank top in hopes of cooling down. Sitting on the lowered ramp of The Marauder, you stared into the misty night sky, feeling trapped by the stale silence. Your eyes began to sting, emotions starting to overcome you. How could so much have changed so quickly?

The sound of footsteps pulled you from your troubled thoughts, and you didn't have to turn around to know who approached. The rapid tapping of gloved fingers on a datapad was enough for you to recognize him.

"You are unable to sleep," Tech says.

It wasn't a question. He'd just stated it as a fact, as he did with most things.

"Not really," you answer, quickly wiping at your eyes.

"I suspect there is a reason," he begins, sitting down beside you, "Would it ease your mind if you shared your concerns with me?"

Your heart skipped at the prospect, and at how near he was.

"I'll be alright, really," you hesitate, trying to compose yourself.

"The tension in your voice and your constrained body language suggests otherwise," he replies, putting away his datapad.

You can't help but chuckle, "Nothing gets past you, does it?"

"Not really," he parrots your words. He removes his helmet and puts it aside. You're surprised to see he's smiling ever-so-slightly.

You sigh, trying put your many thoughts into words. "We've all lost so much. After all our fighting and all our running, sometimes I've wondered what it was all for. But I thought as long as we stayed together, things would be alright. We would figure it out because together we had hope. Now, I'm afraid that we've lost it."

Tech pushes up his goggles before responding.

"I know it may seem that way, but Echo did not leave because he had no hope," he offers, "He believes that there are better ways apart from this squad that he can help preserve hope, and if he is successful, pass it on to others."

"I thought we were already doing that," you reply, shaking your head, "I know we have to be careful, especially for Omega's sake, and we can't fight The Empire the same way others can, but I thought we were making some kind of difference."

"Echo's departure does not necessarily signify failure in our pursuits."

"But aren't we stronger together than apart?" you ask, looking to him.

Tech blinks slowly, visibly weighing your question. Surely he is bothered by all this too?

"Theoretically, yes. But our objections cannot change what has happened," he admits.

Your gaze falls back to your boots, shame setting in. How selfish you must sound. "You're right. I don't think less of Echo. Truly I don't," you say, holding your arms, "I just don't want to lose this squad, and I really don't want to lose..."

You were desperate to say it, but the word caught in your throat. Tears threaten to return. This is not how it was supposed to go. Squeezing your eyes shut, you bow your head, hoping he wouldn't see your entire façade crumbling.

You nearly jump as you feel his hand gently clasp your shoulder. You look up to see his soft brown eyes, full of warmth and understanding.

"I do not have plans to go any place where you cannot also be," he affirms, "And I intend to never make such plans."

A tear slips down your cheek as you choke back a sob. Whatever was left of your composure, he'd just destroyed it, and somehow it was the push you needed.

You lean over to rest your head on his chest. You hold your breath as you feel him tense up at the contact. Fear washes over you that you've gone too far, and you're about to sit up, but then he carefully wraps his arm around you, holding you close.

You purse your lips, trying not to grin. How long you had waited for this moment. Heart racing, you close your eyes and wish for time to stop. So many words had passed between you over the months, but now you could barely speak.

"Tech?" you breathe.

"Yes?"

"I never want to make those kinds of plans either," you say, relaxing into him more.

"It's settled then," he confirms, proceeding to rest his chin upon the top of your head.

It was settled. You knew with absolute certainty that this is where you wanted to be. You were stronger together, and no matter what became of the galaxy, together you and Tech would stay.

[ckret2]

“He'd memorized the constellations outside of his plain when his starblind species didn't even have a word for ‘constellations.’” This is such a good line. (I think you meant to write “plane,” though.)

Did Bill’s dimension have a word for “star,” as in the shape? And did he connect it to the ones up-but-not-north before he left?

aprofessionallurker asked: Ah, never mind about the typo, I just saw the other ask about it. Innnnnteresting…….

Yeah lol. But I do appreciate that I've had two different people point out the plain/plane thing! Like sincerely—I'm always worried that my ADHD and I are missing a TON of typos and that everyone is too polite to point them out, but I want folks to point them out so I can fix them! This specific one happened to not be a typo, but the fact that y'all have pointed it out means you'd probably point out other typos too, which I'm always grateful for.

Star the shape as in ⭐️ the five-pointed one? They probably have a word for it, but since they can't see it from the top, the visual effect of the shape wouldn't have the same significance to them.

The word probably means something different depending on if they consider a star "five points like a pentagon, but with lines connecting each point to an opposite point instead of a neighboring point," or "ten points like a decagon, but half the points go in instead of out":

(they wouldn't be able to accurately draw the shape on a paper like we can, since their papers look like a line; but, to be fair, WE can't accurately draw a cube, since our papers look like a flat surface. And yet somehow we can make drawings we understand to be cubes so I'm sure they can make drawings they understand to be stars.)

If they're going by definition one, whatever word would translate into English as "star [as in the shape]" probably has a definition to them like "simple spirolateral pentagon." If they're going by definition two, it would probably translate like "isotoxal concave decagon." After all there's nothing innately celestial about a pointy five-pointed shape, it's just a geometric figure.

They also had a word for "stars" as in the celestial body: even though they couldn't see the third dimension, theoretical physicists measuring the effect of light on their world recognized the possibility that light emanated from a specific point outside of the visible world, in another dimension; and also the possibility that there were a multitude of diffuse weaker light sources that contributed minutely to the light they experienced.

They came up with words for "the primary singular source of most light" and "the multitudinous weak sources of the rest of light" that would be translated into English as "sun" and "stars," but in their own language they were considered terms for abstract unproven concepts. Like the way we use "graviton" and "dark matter" to describe thing physicists think might exist but haven't observed or proven.

Their words for "star [as in the shape]" and "star [as in the weak light source]" are completely unrelated. Bill did correctly figure out that the things he saw in the third dimension were the sun and the (light) stars, but he didn't associate the (shape) star with the celestial bodies.

Bill thinks it's kind of cute that humans named simple spirolateral pentagons after the distant light sources they see at night, even though the celestial stars don't look anything like that—either from the humans' perspective OR in actual fact. But he doubts they're gonna rename spheres "stars" now that their astronomy has advanced enough to know how stars really look. Still, the symbol they've named "star" is sorta romantic—gives the sense of something radiating out from a central point, like light from a star—kinda like how their "heart" symbol doesn't look like the organ but does look like two halves squishing together to form one whole. Visually poetic. Humans are good at that sort of stuff.

[crumblinggothicarchitecture]

tbh it's not just insinuation of you doing some class discrimination that is gross, other things listed by them as accusations towards you are at least equaly as disgusting, if not more. "ableism, classism, racism" i'm sorry, i didn't know swift is disabled, poor or non-white, oh wait, she is neither of these. yes, grammar policing can be used to discriminate, but when it's used to punch down people, who actually belong to these categories.

also there are literal college courses focused solely on swift's writing, but you as someone with english lit degree can't do some grammar analysis on your private blog? is other anon as offended about these courses and sending them emails about how discriminatory it is to pick apart someone's writing? of course not, because the only people, who would spend money an that type of a course are rich ts fandom cultists, who wouldn't say anything, that might be actually critical about swift. also anon doesn't actually care about picking apart someone's writing, they only care about swift's writing being put under some criticism, because otherwise they would be sending offended emails to every school or critic for the crime of literary analysis.

it's almost as if swift trained these people with her never ending victimhood and copying, to look in her name for any struggle to steal whenever she is being criticized. not an ounce of critical thinking or just common sense to look at it for a second and realize that these don't apply to swift. "so yeah not a good look" yeah, but not on crumblinggothicarchitecture

Sorry, this took a minute for me to get to <3. I appreciate this perspective. I didn't even mention that in the ask, but it's so weird to accuse someone of being racist, ableist, classicist just because I analyzed Taylor Swift’s poor grammar. Swift is the one who calls herself a writer and claims she one of the best writers on the planet right now. So, it stands to reason that I would use my English Degree to analyze her grammar if, for any reason, I felt she actually wasn't a good writer.

If I say that someone isn't a good writer. I'm not going to just state that and leave it there. Obviously, it's on me to effectively argue my point. I do, however, have ways to argue my point. So, naturally, I will get into some linguistic or literary criticism of Swift.

I'm not sure that Grammar-Anon really understands what I am trying to do here. Besides, I think you're right about them not knowing that linguistics is an actual academic discipline. Are the people who dedicate their whole lives to studying and teaching grammar also being racist, ableist, and classicist? LOL.

The English language is such a beautiful medium for expression. It's one of my favorite languages, among many, to read poetry in because it has such an amazing breadth of vocabulary words with which to express emotion. In most linguistic study, it is the mechanism of language itself that scholars pull into study. Fascinating stuff- and people study it all. There are scholars whose life's work revolves around understanding AAVE dialects, or understanding Louisiana Cajun dialects, or understanding mid-Atlantic dialects, or Jewish-New York regionalisms. This is just a short list of regionalist dialects I've personally read about in the last few months- however, the list is expansive and covers much more than just the American continent. For instance, there is a whole subset of academic study centered on the post-colonialist use of English Language in India. Scholarship in this field often takes into account feminist theory, Marxist theory, or Post Colonialist theory. (Again, I just listed my favorites, but there are many more theoretical lenses through which people study the impact of grammatical praxis).

This is something people make into their whole life's work- it's not somehow offensive to participate in low-stakes grammatical analysis of Taylor Swift.

You're right, some people just can't handle the idea of putting her work under the microscope because it would impact their narrow-world view if someone said actually Swift is a bad, unoriginal writer. Imagine the meltdown if twitter Swifties found me :O

I've been giving Swift a pass for years, mostly because I would dismiss her music as simple pop-music. It's meant to be fun. I would listen to it, because it was an easy break from the dense, challenging stuff I would read for classes. However, now I'm going to tear apart Swifts work. It's the principle of the matter now because she seems to think she's the greatest American poet to ever live. I am both bored, as summer approaches and I have nothing else to work on, and frustrated that she's pretending to be a poet.

She's not a tortured genius. She's a trust fund baby who got as far as she did on mediocrity because of her parents' money. We "wouldn't last an hour in the asylum" where they raised her- Ha. She wouldn't last a second working a part-time job after school to pay rent. I get upset when people accuse me of some type of classist's attitude purely because I use my education when they know nothing about my story. I got a lucky break.

Education is my road out of abject poverty. Nothing else was going to save me. I did it all on my own, with the help of a bunch of scholarships, lucky breaks, and really wonderful teachers. Now, in my real life, I am the teacher now. I want to root for people. I critique for the sake of wanting people to improve their skills.

Taylor Swift's arrogant attitude and unwillingness to face criticism just gets under my skin. So, what do I do? I'm not fond of ad hominem attacks. Instead, I will make some good arguments about her bad writing and have some fun in the process. :)

So yeah- I guess it's not a good look.

[concerningwolves]

Hi! 👋🏼

First off, I just wanted to thank you for all that you do on your blog, not only has it been helpful to keep things in mind when writing, but I also genuinely enjoy learning more about sign language; I’m trying to self-learn it because it’s just that interesting to me hehe. (Also my church has a Deaf Service and I’d really like to be able to talk to the people there.)

I do have a question, but feel free not to answer; I’m currently working on a story where a very young child has acquired deafness after a severe illness (vaguely Hellen Keller vibes), and I was wondering if you know of any things I should specifically keep in mind when writing about the aftermath (immediate and long-term) of it? The setting is mildly fantasy where sign language exists, but hearing aids and cochlear implants have yet to be invented.

Thank you again for your blog, and the care you put into all your posts!

You're very welcome, and thank you! ☺️ It's always lovely to hear that people are helped by this whole... [insert vague hand-wave at my blog] thing I'm doing

Things to consider with a young character who loses hearing after illness

I don't know anything firsthand about what it's like to go deaf, so the first thing I'll recommend is to find stuff written by people who do. A search on r/deaf for "lost hearing" brings up a lot of different threads; for example, this post where people discuss things they wished they'd done/known when they first lost their hearing might provide some good insight.

As another starting point, Jessica Kellgren-Fozard has a fair few videos on her channel about her experiences as a deaf person, and specifically as someone who lost her hearing in her late teens. These two in particular might be helpful to you:

So You're Losing Your Hearing...

This is a video for people who think they're losing their hearing, but while it's not strictly about lived experience, it could certainly be helpful to note both the issues Jessica discusses and the solutions to them.

For example, she mentions isolation is a big problem, and talks about the importance of using the tools provided by the internet to find communities of people in the same boat. Even without the internet (or some fantasy equivalent), people are very community driven and prone to bonding over shared experiences, even if those experiences aren't wholly analogous. Are there other disabled characters in your story that your recently deaf character could speak to? Other d/Deaf characters? Who does she have by way of support and community? – these are all good things to think about.

Why I Don't Sound Deaf

In this one, Jessica talks about her experiences and her relationship with speech and sign languages as someone who lost her hearing. With applying this to your character, her age is important – the "golden period" for acquisition of a new language is typically thought to be before ten years old. Theoretically, the younger someone is when they lose hearing, the easier it will be for them to learn sign language. As Jessica points out in the video, sign language has a different grammatical structure, and because of this she finds it easier to use Sign Supported English instead of BSL. A much younger child, if given immediate or near-immediate access to sign language, is likely to take to it far more easily.

More on speech and language acquisition (or: the evils of consonants)

The impact of hearing loss on speech isn't something I can speak to (pun unintended) with great knowledge or certainty, but I can sort of extrapolate based on personal experience with learning to speak while not being able to hear well. (I had speech therapy, but that was as much to do with my narrow jaw + teeth overcrowding as with language difficulties caused by deafness). I misheard a lot of words and phrases – I spent years thinking that the "big girl swings" were "barbecue swings" 😅

It's worth looking into what level of speech your character would have based on her age, and using that to work out how much verbal proficiency she could retain (if any). Muscle memory accounts for a lot, so if your character already knows how to say certain words or phrases ""properly"", she could retain that ability. It's not an automatic or effort-free process, though: I'm in my twenties and I still have to consciously think about how my mouth is shaping sounds every time I speak. I don't think that will ever change.

If your character is young enough that she's still learning to speak, there will likely be a more marked impact on how her voice sounds. Different phonemes – units or "parts" of sound in speech – are uttered at different frequencies, which affects how easy/difficult they are to hear and therefore learn. This is, AFAIK, one of the biggest causes of the slurred/indistinct speech that people tend to expect d/Deaf people to have. Consonants are evil little fuckers, by which I mean they're spoken at higher pitches so anyone with loss in the high frequency range (hi!) is more likely to miss them. There are different types of consonants, too! And yes, each type presents its own challenges, because consonants exist purely to vex and frustrate everyone with high-frequency hearing loss and/or speech difficulties. For example, labiodental fricatives (e.g., the 'f' in fan and the 'v' in van) are particularly tricky, because they sound virtually indistinguishable.

StudySmarter has an easy-to-understand comprehensive breakdown of phonetics. You don't need to become an expert in phonetics, but reading through this will help you understand how sounds are formed in speech, which is helpful to keep in mind when thinking about your own character's speech. Pay particular attention to the phonemes that sound similar (like the aforementioned fan/van) or are soft/breathy (like the 's' in 'sound' or 'h' in 'half') – these are the most common problem areas, as are distinctions between 'sh' and 's'. If they feel soft or breathy in your mouth, they're probably going to be harder to hear.

Deafness and illness as trauma, and adjusting to change

Last thing I'd suggest thinking about is the experience your character has with the illness itself, and how she feels and copes with the changes to her life caused by acquired deafness. Illness can be a traumatic experience, especially when it has long-term after effects. If you've ever lost the ability to do something you can usually do, even temporarily, you'll probably be familiar with the frustration, and sometimes humiliation. It's also hard to overstate just how much auditory information there is in the world, and how much hearing people rely on that information without knowing it. Suddenly losing that ability isn't going to be easy, even if your character is young enough that they won't be able to remember anything different once they're grown up. Add to that the realisation that your body isn't as reliable as you thought it would be, that you suddenly can't trust your own health, and possibly not being able to understand why that's the case. That's a lot to deal with! And you shouldn't be afraid to show your character going through it!

Thinking back to my own childhood experiences, the strongest emotions connected to my deafness are confusion, embarrassment and alienation. Confusion because the world can be confusing when you're constantly missing auditory cues; embarrassment because unfortunately not everyone is kind and accommodating when you make mistakes due to missing aforementioned auditory cues/information (and sometimes even if people are lovely about a mistake, you can feel stupid for making it anyway); and alienation because of a sense that I was somehow "different". Thing is though, this was normal for me. I have never known anything different. But my relationship to and understanding of deafness as an identity has evolved hugely throughout my life. So, once again, age is going to be a deciding factor in how your character adjusts.

From some rudimentary googling and fuzzy memories of my brief stint as a Psychology student, children develop social awareness (awareness of how others think and feel) and self-awareness (awareness of own existence and how others perceive you) fairly early on, but these awarenesses take time to develop fully. Basically, this means that your character’s age will influence the scope of their reaction to acquired deafness. Some examples as a frame of reference:

A two-year-old is going to be primarily focused on their immediate emotional experience – they can’t hear things they could hear before, it’s confusing. They will also likely be aware if people treat them differently, but unlikely to have a socially-installed idea that they are now different.

A four- or five-year-old, on the other hand, has probably developed enough social and self-awareness to understand that certain people in society get treated differently. They might already have a sense that this is unfair, or they might still be trying to understand why this is the case – it depends on what they’ve learned about disability from adults around them.

(I mentioned above that you can feel stupid/embarrassed for making a mistake even if people are genuinely supportive regardless. The first time I vividly remember someone making me feel stupid and embarrassed for not hearing something, I would have been 4 or 5. The first time I can recall feeling stupid because I was aware that other people didn’t have that problem and that I’d made a social faux pas, I would have been about 7 or 8)

By early adolescence (ages 10–13), children are more aware of, and possibly more susceptible to, peer pressure and social norms [1]. Any understanding of and biases/prejudices concerning disability will be more deeply ingrained, as will concerns about the social impact of going deaf.

The support network that your character has access to is going to be crucial to how they manage this change at any age, so think about the characters in their immediate family/community and how they’ve acted towards disability and social difference.

[1] In a fantasy setting, you as the author are in charge of what those social norms and attitudes are, and I always encourage authors to examine their own biases when worldbuilding them. How are disabled people viewed and treated in your world? Have you made it similar to your own social and cultural experience? If yes, is that because you see that as the norm, or is there a narrative or worldbuilding reason for that? Are there any assumptions about the current or historical treatment/existence of disabled people that have influenced your worldbuilding?

Tropes to watch out for

There are three main tropes to be wary of when a character acquires a disability of any kind:

The acquired disability as an inherent tragedy akin to a death sentence and nothing else. As I’ve already said, an acquired disability can be significantly emotionally difficult, especially if the circumstances around acquisition were traumatic. Acknowledging and exploring this is important. The problem is when writers leave it there – the character is disabled, their previous way of life is lost to them, and therefore the character no longer has any worth to the story (and, by implication, to society). Think of the trope of the ex-athlete (or any other hobby/profession, although fighters and athletes are the most common components off this trope) who acquires a disability and then becomes a bitter, depressed hermit who lives in a state of misanthropy and misery because their life is effectively over. (This happens to Will in Me Before You by Jojo Moyes. Content warning for assisted suicide there). The main issue with this trope isn’t its content, per se, but its execution: Writers rarely examine why someone might end up like this (hint: institutional and internalised ableism, and lack of structural support for disabled people), and instead treat it as an inevitability because they cannot conceive of disabled existence as anything but inherently miserable.

The second trope is when a character manages to “throw off” the disability. These characters either only remain disabled as long as the disability is narratively useful, are magically cured, or overcome the disability by an act of willpower (sometimes only for narrative effect). The issue here is the content: the idea that disability can be overcome or cured by sheer willpower (or yoga, or the right diet, or religion) is pervasive and actively harmful to real-life disabled people, because it implies that disability is somehow our fault. Closely related to this trope is the one where an acquired disability never tangibly impacts a character (or only does so when it would be dramatic); you see this primarily with characters who use prosthetics effortlessly or, in the case of the latter, characters who appear abled until their disability can cause tension or drama in the plot. Again, the content is the issue: disability is flattened to nothing but a plot device, with no thought given to how it affects characters (and therefore real disabled people).

Finally, there’s the idea that an acquired disability is actually a “blessing in disguise” as a type of inspiration porn. That’s an icky trope, but I think it has some itty bitty grains of potential – crucially, the fact that there can be joy in disabled existence. Someone who acquires deafness might not see it as a blessing in the same way as some congenitally deaf people do, but they may still come to appreciate and embrace (aspects of) Deaf culture. Or perhaps they just manage to develop a neutral relationship with their acquired deafness. That’s fine, too!

A solution is to all of these is to consider the practical and proactive aspects of recovery, as well as the emotional fallout. Consider:

How does your character adjust?

How do the people around her adjust?

What support does she have? / What support systems are available?

How does she make sense of her new reality?

What accessibility aids does she have access to, and what are they like to use?

Long story short, nuance and consideration of different aspects of the disabled experience are key.

Hopefully this’ll help! (I’ve also wanted to talk about acquired disability in fiction for a while, hence the wall of text lol). Best wishes for your writing, anon ☺️

[kimyoonmiauthor]

Disability and Worldbuilding

I will state you can't change the actual disability, though you could theoretically make up ones. This isn't going to be one of those "Oh let's play roulette and give your characters a disability you've never heard of before". This is a short post trying to ask you to look at how disability is thought of and treated in your society and maybe changing the longtime European default settings to one that could look at disability on a cultural level.

Europe's ideas of Disability over time

There's some loose thought that Druids were semi-Shamanistic and if that was so a few things are true: Higher likelihood of acceptance of LGBTQIA, though this was likely erased by later Christian Missionaries, but some stories do survive that indicate this might be true. Of course LGBTQIA isn't a disability, but putting it out there that Druids likely accepted it from Historical thinking.

But also it's likely that disabilities, particularly congenital, etc weren't regarded the same as they were later.

Mental health disabilities were likely? treated as a cause of celebration because those people were closer to understanding the divine. Many Shamanistic religions are like that.

Then Romans came, and Romans, unlike the "sanitized" version of them were not anti-sex, homosexuality, but there is evidence that there was some "kill people with disabilities" mentality probably leftover from the Greeks. (Baby death by exposure for having a disability).

This belief system probably synchronized with Christianity in Europe, and thus by the time you get to Shakespeare in the 1500's, etc, it was commonly thought that if you had a physical or mental "deformity" (language of the time period) that it was punishment from God. This is why in much of the plays of the time period physical disability comes at the heels of a moral failing in plays. If you notice, this is a more extreme version of the previous. But the justifications have changed and the culture has changed with it.

(Lucy Worsley goes over this when she talks about Shakespeare and Richard the III—often disability was feared, mocked, and hated.)

Your arm got chopped off in battle and somehow despite the terrible medicine, you survived, well the Church would tell you, "You know what? God willed it because you were evil."

TT Ultimate in blame the victim?

Of course with the advent of science, some of this started to change, but was still prevalent until the late Victorian era where it changed. (You can watch the doc Victorian Pharmacy to get an idea of when the Humour system finally died, etc.) But then Eugenics kinda took over the mantle of what had been put in earlier with a more extreme version and justification to go after LGBTQIA, (Mostly the first 4 letters, to be honest) They used Wallace and Darwin's work (unfortunately it got Darwin's Grandson) to argue against disability.

But then this history also attacks ND identity too.

But do you need to write an antagonism towards disability? Couldn't you expand on the supposed Druid version and play that up?

You do not have to do the whole "Punishment from God" antagonism. And it may be inconsistent as well. Some disabilities are more liked than others. Finding and asking about the justifications would make this a good bit of world building to work on.

[kittenintheden]

This isn’t a story request, just wanted to get a different person’s opinion on this brainworm—what would happen if Tav was abducted from Earth? I mean the Nautiloid was teleporting everywhere when fleeing from the dragons, so Tav could be unlucky enough to be the only modern Earthling they abduct.

Tav would have no magical powers. Maybe they can play an instrument and pretend to be a bard, retelling the Lord of the Rings as a true story to fool people? Maybe they harness the power of science like a mad scientist? How the heck would Astarion react to her ways of thinking?

Oh friend! Do I have a neat one for you to check out! I have a friend who's currently working on something along these same line with a slightly different premise. It also takes place post-game events. Shoutout to Bella!!

So, she's coming at it from the perspective of an "our world" person who knows BG3 exists and has played it and then gets transported into the world. Anyway! Your question.

This type of thing is so fun. This is why I love fic writing. Any weird little idea in your brain? MAKE IT A FIC. I love it.

You're suggesting something like while planejumping, the Nautilus grabbed someone from our universe. Which, in the multiverse theory of D&D, could theoretically happen! It's a fish-out-of-water plot with fun possibilities.

I suppose the first question to ask is how you're characterizing this new OC. What are their existing skills and interests? Even without magic, they could be a martial fighter, a bard, even a wizard. Artificer if they're good at tinkering. Maybe being shunted into a magical universe awakens magic within them and they're a surprise sorcerer and then you can play with person who's never had magic suddenly having magic and being WTF about it.

That's ultimately what's going to decide the story -- how the fish-out-of-water reacts. Everyone else is FROM this world, they get it, and it'd be very easy to be like "well that person has clearly had a mental break, on we go." Do they all speak the same language? I assume the Earthling will understand Common.

Lots of potential for headbutting. What is the Earthling offering in order to tag along? What turns of phrase are different? Do they have a functional electronic device on them?

How would YOU react if you were dropped into the world? What conflicts would come up for YOU?

As for how Astarion would respond, well, he's a chaos gremlin looking for any means of protective power he can find, at least in early game. He's already freaked out, so what's one more thing? Does this character offer some kind of protection or tactical alliance? He's probably on board. Are they weird and unusual [in context]? He's probably like lol nice.

"You're a bit of an... odd one, aren't you? I can work with that."

[squeakygeeky]

My brain is going whirr whirr whirr so here’s a random lesson/unhinged rant on romanization. What is romanization? It means using the letters of the Latin alphabet (in this case I really mean the English alphabet) to represent a different script. Obviously I’ll be talking here about how we represent the Thai script (which I know is technically an abugida not an alphabet, don’t @ me). The way I see it, there’s two basic reasons to do this.

To make the word more pronounceable/memorable/understandable for people who speak languages that use the Latin alphabet. For example you’re a learner who doesn’t know the Thai alphabet 100% yet and you want to make notes on a word you just learned. Or you’re putting up signs for tourists, where it doesn’t really matter if they can pronounce the name of the place properly as long as it matches what’s in their guidebook.

Technical limitations. For example, someone from a country with a different writing system has to fill out their name in a form that only accepts latin letters. Or maybe you want to message a friend in Thai over in-game chat but it doesn’t support Thai. Or maybe you could theoretically be typing in Thai but you have a US keyboard so it’s just easier to turn to romanization instead.

One thing relevant to me, and probably anyone reading this is the romanization of character names. I see it as a combo of 1 and 2. Obviously the audience needs a memorable way to think of the character and also it would be bizarre to randomly switch into Thai in the middle of the English subs, if the software even lets you do that.

There are two basic categories of romanization. Transcription is where you use the Roman alphabet to represent the sounds of thai, and transliteration where you basically just substitute English letters for Thai ones. The big difference between the two is going to be with ending consonants, since there are different pronunciation rules for initial consonants than for when that letter is the final consonant of a syllable.

THERE IS NO STANDARD SYSTEM FOR ROMANIZING THAI

Okay, well there is the Royal Thai General System of Transcription (RTGS), and it is official, but even the government doesn’t use it consistently and also I hate it, which is what really matters. It’s terrible for English-speaking learners because a lot of choices are misleading. Think of all the people who cannot pronounce ‘Phuket’ because in English ‘ph’ is ‘f’ but in RTGS it’s an aspirated ‘p’ (so to me just a normal ‘p’). This would be okay though if you gained a basic familiarity with how RTGS worked, or just looked up a chart or something. Much worse is the fact that the combination of letters ‘ch’ are used to represent two completely different sounds in Thai. Part of me wishes translators would always use RTGS so we could have consistent subs, but then I remember it’s terrible and most Thais do not use it for their names in reality. The good thing about RTGS is that since it doesn’t use any diacritic markers or other non-Latin characters it’s useful when technical limitations are the issue.

Most materials for learners will use some form of transcription, but this will vary wildly. I had my own personal system at one point, but didn’t end up using it much because I stopped taking notes and switched to listening only. However, now I'm all about the Thai alphabet.

There are downsides to transcription. One is that many sounds in Thai simply do not exist in English, so any attempt to transcribe fundamentally won't allow an English speaker to intuitively pronounce it correctly. Another is that the pronunciation of the same word can vary, which you’ll see a lot with any word containing ‘ร’. Formally (or sarcastically), this will be a rolled ‘r,’ but normally people pronounce it ‘l’ (if it’s pronounced at all, in consonant clusters people just drop it and they also tend to drop actual ‘l’ sounds in clusters). So of course it makes sense to be written ‘r,’ but it’s not going to sound like that most of the time, so is that really transcription at all? Also our own letters don’t actually correspond to specific sounds in English, so English is a fundamentally terrible language to try to transliterate things into?

The advantage of transcription, where you just swap a Thai letter for an English one, is that it’s very easy for someone who is Thai. They can just spell the word in Thai in their head and make the substitution, no worries about how it actually sounds. I don’t mind transcription at this point, since I am starting to get the hang of final consonants, and in some cases it helps me guess at the Thai spelling of the word. Buttttt it’s not actually that helpful for that since there are lots of cases where multiple Thai letters make the same sound.

Whatever you’re doing, you have to wrestle with the fact that Thai has tones, so if you’re not representing the tones somehow, you definitely won’t be able to pronounce a word properly based on its romanization. And if you’re using romanization for reason 2, technicla limitations, it may be literally impossible to represent tones. RTGS doesn’t bother with tones. Or vowel length. So that’s great.

If you want to actually learn to pronounce a word in Thai and don’t know the Thai script, your best bet is IPA. The International Phonetic Alphabet is a standard way to represent sounds, so it’s super useful…if you know IPA. Or if you want to look through some charts and listen to some audio files to learn how to pronounce one specific thing. It’s not useful for resolving technical limitations because it uses lots of symbols not in the Latin alphabet. And unless you want to be a polyglot, why waste time learning IPA when you could just learn the Thai script? Also it doesn’t do tones.

Here’s a website where you can plug in any thai text and get a transcription, including in IPA. There are many options. If you do it with a character’s name, you can try those options and it’s totally possible none of those will match what you see in the subs because the actual human is using transliteration/their own random system that is not one of the things listed/there's a canon romanization of the character's name. But also because sometimes it's just wrong. Have fun.

For more resources on pronouncing Thai I recommend Stuart Jay Raj. His way of talking about things takes some getting used to, but his ‘indic compass’ is actually pretty useful. If you set it to show Thai, you can click on a letter to hear it and see how it’s supposed to be made in the mouth. I also like his video on vowels.

For more on Thai names, see @recentadultburnout’s posts on Thai name meanings.

Because I’m currently obsessed with Century of Love, the rest of this is using the two actors, Daou and Offroad, as examples:

Did you know that Daou’s name had two syllables? My mind was blown when I heard it.

Thai: ต้าห์อู๋ IPA: tâː ʔǔː RTGS: tau The way I would write it for myself: dta-oo

Absolutely no way I was getting that from reading 'Daou.' That first letter is an unaspirated, unvocalized alveolar consonant, and I know what that means because despite not being great at IPA, I am pretty obsessed with how in the mouth sounds are made. Basically it’s like ‘d’ or ‘t’ without actually being either of them. ต้า is the first syllable and ห์อู๋ is the second, but this is not a reading lesson, let's move on.

Offroad’s name is literally the English word ‘off-road’ like a jeep. In Thai script it’s ออฟโรด (not just his name, also when discussing motor vehicles). The site gets this one 'wrong,' putting an 'f' when that's not what 'ฟ' does as a final consonant, but closer to actual English word, so I used charts for this.

Thai: ออฟโรด IPA: ʔɔ̀ːp rôːt RTGS: oprot

There’s no ‘f’ ending sound in Thai, and consonants are always unvoiced and unreleased. If you read my Wat/Wad post, I said 'ด' as a final consonant makes a ‘t’ sound, but I really meant it’s the weird ‘dt’ sound. So lots of people pronounce his name something more like ‘awploadt.’ I kept thinking people were calling him ‘upload’ until I actually thought it through.

Feel free to send your burning questions about pronunciation/spelling, though I’m definitely not advanced enough to be confident recording myself saying anything.

[the-one-0]

Hi. I haven't been writing headcanons for a long time, but now I have some ideas in my head that I've been trying to refine for a long time. At the moment, I'm working on some fanfiction for which I need inspiration, and in order for me to have it, I decided to revive my small column with headcanons on The Arcana.

Quaestor Valdemar x Pontifex Vulgora headcanons

I am more than sure that Vulgora occupies the "main" position in this relationship. They initiate many key moments, starting with dates and ending with kisses with other more intimate things. But this is not because Valdemar are passive or they are not interested in this relationship. More about this in the next paragraph.

Valdemar is not the kind of being who is well or even moderately versed in romance and in building a loving relationship with anyone. They are not passive, but they are also not inclined to take the first steps too often, however, if Valdemar still decide to take the initiative, then this exceeds all expectations, at least in relation to those with whom they are close. And this place in their heart in this case is occupied only by Vulgora. For their sake, Valdemar is more than capable of learning to understand the essence of building a romantic relationship, but it still won't look the way people do it. Valdemar have their own language of love, which they learn to show towards Vulgora, learning more and more about it.

However, Vulgora is also loved in its own way. And that's what makes these two look like each other. Both are immortal beings, whose age is either approaching a thousand, or has long crossed this boundary. But to be more precise, in my head Vulgora is younger than Valdemar, but not by much, to call it an impressive age difference.

Valdemar is by no means a passive partner in this relationship, despite having less initiative. With the development of these relationships, their dominant personality side is quite capable of revealing itself in some moments. It's not as fervent and passionate as Vulgora's, but more harsh and cold-blooded, but since Valdemar knows the measure and knows how to try on this quality when it's appropriate, it drives the younger demon crazy.

And the first thing Valdemar does after one of the nights together is hear something like this from Vulgora in the early morning: "DAMN IT, WHY DID YOU HIDE IT BEFORE?! IT WAS FUCKING AWESOME!"

Vulgora is definitely the defender in this relationship most of the time, and Valdemar are the ones who are protected. Vulgora are ready to literally gut with their bare hands anyone who dares to look at Valdemar the wrong way or leave a comment. For the latter, by the way, Vulgora will not hesitate to rip out this unfortunate person's tongue.

However, when it comes to really serious things, rather than simple showdowns with people, Valdemar stands up. Their defense techniques are more subtle and sophisticated. And this is applied only in the most extreme cases. They know that Vulgora will fight to the last for the chance to protect both themselves and their partner, so Valdemar will not take away this chance from them if there is no real danger on the horizon, because of which Vulgora can theoretically suffer due to their own inattention or overconfidence. Valdemar will simply turn a creature that dared to cause trouble for Vulgora into a pile of dismembered minced meat and a mug of blood.

Of course, there are a lot of rumors about the relationship between these two at court, because neither Valdemar nor Vulgora see any point in following universal rules and declaring each other partners in front of everyone. This becomes obvious over time and no one in the couple tries to hide it, just as they advertise it. They just most often appear together at common events or somewhere else, sometimes holding hands and showing signs of attention towards each other. However, Vulgora is more prone to publicity than Valdemar and at the first time of a love relationship, they do not hesitate to yell at someone who will allow themselves to stare at Valdemar. It would be something like, "WHERE ARE YOU LOOKING, YOU MISERABLE PEASANT?! TURN YOUR EYES AWAY, IT'S MINE!"

Valdemar, as a rule, react very calmly to the manifestation of Vulgora's possessive nature and accept it without trying to change them. They are more than satisfied with this, because they still have no goal to build a close relationship with someone else.

Among other things, Valdemar is not at all worried about the physical manifestations of affection on the part of Vulgora. These are, of course, love bites, and everywhere, wherever their sharp greedy teeth can reach. Despite the fact that Valdemar's body is always hidden under clothes, Vulgora find a way to mark them so that absolutely everyone can see it. For example, hickeys on the cheeks, sometimes very bright.

In bed, Valdemar often puts power in the hands of Vulgora, allowing them to act in the main role. But it's not that simple. Valdemar can take the role of a hidden leader, allowing Vulgora to think that they are in charge of the process. They just like to see their beloved red beetle having fun in full.

Valdemar, taking a position "from below", can easily turn Vulgora into a trembling puddle of tenderness, just by telling them the right words. And they know how to get to the very heart of Vulgora. It works flawlessly.

That's all for today. But I know for sure that I will soon write the second part of the headcanons with this amazing couple. I just need to formulate the rest of my thoughts on this topic. And I do not exclude that I will even write headcanons related to NSFW in more detail. If that happens, it will be my favorite part.