#youse are just like the english

[librastrai]

the irish gov are centrist bollocks but right wing? genocide? these words actually mean things. there is anti traveler bigotry in this country and foul stupidity and ignorance in our government but youre talking as if we're in a police state.

i also kind of despise this idea that no settled irish people are 'indigenous'

what exactly do you call restriction of travel primarily through police & arrest to our natural rights, rates of incarceration that far outweighs the rates of settled irish, a long history of sterilization & theft of our children to place them in religious institutions, etc etc. specifically with the outcome of addressing the "itinerant problem" that eerily echoes other facist ideologies. because i, & most others, would class that as genocide.

no one has said that settled irish aren't indigenous to ireland either, but that the context is different in regards to the fact that there are ethnic differences between us & there is evidence of minceiri being here far fucking longer. to cry that settled irish are being denied indigenous status while ignoring that settled irish & the right wing irish state have all but criminalized & genocided indigenous ways of living is the height of hypocrisy. cry about it.

[francisforever2014]

OUGHHH the way this post makes my eye twitch .

people in victorian times when they read a book that said “dear reader”: ITS HORRIFYING THAT WE’RE INVENTING A NEW 4TH PERSON PRONOUN 😱😱

[awacatin]

everything everywhere oll at wans

[schemmentis]

Somethin' Stupid

Prompt: Melissa, as a teenager, needs you to help her with her lessons. Her dyslexia keeps her from writing an essay for class. Stubborn as always, she doesn’t want anyone to help. You make it your mission to help her anyway.

Warnings: Dyslexia and my poorly researched use of Philadelphia things from the late '70s/early '80s

Word Count: 2.6k

You look up from the paper you’re working on at a groan across the table from you. A head of red hair lowers until a forehead lightly thunks against the wood of the kitchen table. You smile slightly at the dramatics of Melissa across from you. 

You met Melissa in second grade when your family moved to Philly. The two of you became fast friends with your shared interests. Though at seven years old it’s not really hard to have shared interests. Still, your friendship grew as the two of you did. Even as you aged and found your own interests, you and Melissa were inseparable. 

Now, you’re in high school and as close as you’ve always been. Most afternoons after school you walk home with Melissa to her house. You spend an hour or two going over homework with her in companionable silence. Sometimes you stay for dinner, others you head home in time to eat dinner with your parents. Your house is Melissa's second home just as hers is yours. Your parents have become friends simply because the two of you are and insist on being with the other so much.

“Do you want me to help?” You ask, propping your chin in your hand as your elbow leans on the table.

“No.” Melissa’s answer is muffled into the table.

You roll your eyes. She’s always had a hard time accepting help. You remember in third grade offering to help her color just to be doing it with her. She had looked at you and said she ‘didn’t need help’ but you could color with her as long as you weren’t helping her color. You smile softly at the memory. Your stubborn Mel, just like always.

“What are you working on, anyway?” You ask, still looking only at her hair since her forehead is pressed to the wood.

After a heavy sigh, Melissa lifts her head to look at you. She huffs one more time, extra hard, to blow the hair in her face away. “English.” She grumbles. “I have an essay for midterm.” 

“Midterm?” You repeat, your hand falling away from your chin to the table with a thud. “Mel, that’s next week. How much have you done?”

“My name?” Melissa sheepishly answers with a small shrug of her shoulders. She looks more at her paper and the table than at you.

“I can help, Mel.” You repeat your offer, quietly. “You know I’m the weird one that likes essays.”

“Yea, you've always been better with that stuff than me.” Melissa agrees, reclaiming the pencil she’d dropped onto the table. “No, I don’t need help. I’ll figure it out.”

You sigh. You know she’ll never ask for help, or accept it. You know, too, when not to push her though. So, you let it go. You refocus on finishing your own paper as Melissa returns her attention to her own. Though, when you glance across the table at her after a few minutes, you can tell she hasn’t added much, if anything. You’re about to make a comment when the door to the kitchen opens.

You quickly get up to help Melissa’s mother with the groceries she’s carrying in. She gives you a smile you know Melissa inherited when she thanks you for helping. A small, light, slap to the back of red hair. “How come Y/N gets up to help me and youse don’t even move an inch.”

“Okay, Ma, we all know by now Y/N is your real favorite child.” Melissa answers.

“If her parents weren’t who they are, I’d have adopted her already, yes.” Melissa’s mom agrees without hesitation. “Are ya stayin’ for dinner, Y/N?”

“Thanks, Mrs. Schemmenti, but I promised my mom I’d be home tonight. Something about how I’ve practically moved in here and she never sees me.” You roll your eyes but smile. You know Melissa’s mom has had times where she’d say something similar about Melissa always being at your house.

You start packing your notebook and textbooks back into your backpack. “Are we still going to The Gallery this weekend?” You ask with a glance back to Melissa.

“Duh,” She answers without hesitation. “I’m not stayin’ home with Kristen Marie. Oh, Joey said he might come.” 

You roll your eyes. Both at Melissa’s ongoing annoyance with her sister and the mention of Joey. “Ugh, does he have to?” You ask.

Before you even finish asking, Melissa is giving you those puppy pleading eyes. She really likes Joey, for what reason you don’t know. You think he’s just like any of the other boys in your school and neighborhood. All of whom you really just tolerate. 

Still, in the middle of the school year last year she apparently noticed he was kind of cute and kind of funny. From then, Joey was slowly entering your friend group with her input. You’re just waiting at this point for him to actually ask Melissa out. You’ve seen him stare at her the same way you’ve seen Mel stare at him. You’ve entertained giving them a push once or twice just to get them moving but you figure it’s better to let them figure it out themselves.

“Please?” Melissa pleads. “I promise I won’t let him bring all of his friends, too. We’ll keep it small.”

“Fine.” You reluctantly agree as you tug your backpack over your shoulder. 

Melissa rises from her seat at the kitchen table and hugs you as she says thank you a few times. You guess if it makes your friend happy you’re okay with enduring Joey for a few hours.

“Want me to walk ya home?” She offers.

“Why, so you can put off your essay another five minutes?” You tease, kissing her cheek. “Nah, you know it ain’t far, I’ll be fine.”

“Call me tonight?”

“Duh.” You answer with a grin before you make your way out of the Schemmenti house.

You make good on your promise to call Melissa after dinner and a bit more studying that night, She acts like she didn’t know you made it down the block safely until you call. Like she does every time you leave somewhere without her. You assure her you’re as put together as you were when she last saw you. 

The two of you occupy the phone lines of your houses until your mother is insisting you have to hang up and get ready for bed. You’ve already convinced her to put it off until nearly an hour and a half later than usual. You see Melissa all the time, every day. Neither of you necessarily have anything new to say, but you remained on the line anyhow. You didn’t need anything new to want to talk to each other and would gladly do this same song and dance tomorrow. And you do.

That weekend, you join Melissa at The Gallery. Window shopping through Gimbel’s and the other department stores there. Halfway through the afternoon Joey does join the two of you. You slip into the role of third wheel with as much grace as you can. Melissa at least still includes you and doesn’t shut you out of conversation or pretend you aren’t there at all. Joey…well, you don’t really care that he pretends you aren’t there. You do the same thing to him all the time. Today included.

“How’s your essay?” You ask Melissa as you walk home with her Monday afternoon. You share a few classes with the redhead but the time to actually check in between those classes are rather short. Plus, she’d had lunch with Joey. She offered you to join but you had enough of the Melissa and Joey show that weekend so you opted to sit with your other friends instead.

“Oh…” Melissa shrugs, her eyes darting away from you. “It’s fine.”

“You haven’t worked on it at all, have you?” You ask with a squint at her.

“No, but it’s fine, I got it under control!”

“Mel, it’s due Friday!”

“I told ya I got this, Y/N”

You sigh, shaking your head as you follow Melissa into her house. You’re staying the night tonight, thankfully. So, you decide you’re going to get your friend as much through this damn essay as you can. Otherwise, you know Melissa will just keep avoiding it.

You don’t mention it in the hour before dinner that you’re both working through homework. After dinner, though, once you and Mel have migrated to her bedroom for the night, you begin your plan.

Melissa, to her credit, is really trying to start her essay. She has her book in her lap as she sits at the head of her bed. Her notebook is on the bedspread next to her and she’s absentmindedly biting the pencil in her hand. She’s squinting at the book. She hasn’t turned the page since you came up here. 

You shift away from your chair at the desk in her room, joining her on the bed. You can see she’s trying. Just as easily as you can see her frustration building. Without saying anything you tear a blank page from your notebook and slip it beneath her hands over the page she’s trying to read.

Melissa looks up at you, something close to a glare at you for your unwanted help. You don’t let it deter you. You gently lift the finger she’d been trying to follow the line she was reading with. The paper held just below the line to block the rest of the text. You don’t say anything. You return to your own project in your new space next to Melissa. After a long moment, she whispers a thank you to you as she turns the page.

You knew Mel had dyslexia. You were the first person she told when she found out. You had hugged her and reassured her it didn’t mean she was stupid like she kept saying once she found out. She didn’t speak about it often, and neither did you. It was something she preferred to pretend didn’t exist most of the time. Still, you try to make things easier for her when you can. Even when she’s obnoxiously stubborn about it.

It’s a few hours later that the comfortable silence you’ve been sharing is broken. Your project is nearly done, and you know Melissa has gotten through quite a bit of the reading she needed to do.

“Okay.” Melissa says, the frustration she’s feeling practically leaking into her voice as she tosses the book away from her. She lifts her notebook, shaking it. “How the hell am I supposed to even understand what the requirements are when it’s so many different things? The page count, and the words, and then you have to make sure it’s structured right. It’s too much shit, Y/N!”

You wince when you hear a distant shout from Melissa’s mother about her language from somewhere else in the house. The detriment of your Italian friend’s passion. Sometimes she doesn’t realize her volume.

“Sorry, Ma!” Melissa yells back half-heartedly before she turns back to you, deflating once more.

“How about this…” You say, carefully fixing the book she’s thrown before the pages get stuck bent. You re-situate her notebook to her lap, gesturing for her to be ready to write. “Let’s start with the introduction, right? So, what is it you’re writing about?”

You press your index finger to Melissa’s lips when she goes to tell you. “Nuh uh, write it.” You say, your hand moving to point at her notebook. “Even if it’s just a sentence or two, write it down and we can come back.”

Melissa looks at you, ensuring you’re looking back before she rolls her eyes. Only once she’s shown you her exasperation with you does she look away from you to write.

“Okay, great.” You say when she looks back up at you. “So, then, let’s write…” You pause to consider how long her essay needs to be. “Three different important points from the book.” You watch as Mel’s pencil scribbles against the notebook. You’ve always been jealous of her handwriting. It’s easy for her to write nicely despite how she sometimes struggles to write. Her handwriting always looked nicer than yours. You guess it’s because she’s always moving her pencil so carefully and meticulously. 

“Now what?”

You blink as Melissa prompts you, realizing she’d written a few ideas down and was now looking at you for what to do next. “Now, what’s the most important takeaway from the book?”

After she writes a sentence for your prompt, Melissa looks up at you. “I dunno how but you made it way less overwhelming.” She grumbles. 

You smile despite her trying to sound upset. “You know I’m always happy to help.” You lightly bump your shoulder to hers. “And it’s okay to need help, y’know. It doesn’t make you any less capable, Mel.”

“I’d be a hell of a lot less capable without you, Y/N.”

“Nah, just getting in your own way more.” You tease her, turning back to your own assignment to finish it now that Melissa seems to have a better idea of how to approach her essay.

You finish your assignment after a few more minutes. You put your things for school away in your backpack, ignoring Melissa saying you don’t have to put things away immediately all the time. You’re the more neat of the two of you and you’re not about to leave things scattered around her room. You might consider the Schemmenti house your second home but you wouldn’t do that. Especially not to Mel’s space.

You check if Mel wants you to help any further. She waves you away but this time you can tell she’s in a working groove and not just being stubborn. You disappear to steal her bathroom for a shower and to get ready for bed. By the time you get back to Melissa’s room she’s just finishing writing.

“Will you look it over for me while I shower?” She requests as she hands you her notebook. You smile at how shy she sounds about it. You know she doesn’t like anyone reading anything she’s written. She’s always self conscious of it but you’re glad she trusts you at least in instances like this.

By the time Melissa returns, you’ve gone over her essay twice. “This is great, Mel!” You say as soon as she walks in. “There’s only a few little spellings I found proof reading but you did great. I think you could ace the midterm with this.”

“Yeah?” She asks, smiling with a brief duck of her head. “Well, you got my ass in gear. I owe you.”

You wait a half second for a yell about language from somewhere but it’s quiet. You’d guess Melissa’s parents are asleep by now. You doubt Kristen Marie is but you haven’t seen much of Mel’s sister today, anyway. 

“You don’t owe me. It’s what I’m here for.” You retort with a shake of your head, setting Melissa’s notebook to the top of her desk.

Once you’ve set it down, Melissa is lightly pulling your arm to get you both back to her bed. Though she’s tugging her covers back and over the both of you now. “I’m glad it’s good enough ‘cause I’m sick of staring at it.”

You laugh. “At least you don’t have to worry about it the rest of the week now.”

Melissa nods, curling up at your side. You’ve shared beds too many times to count in your years growing up together. You don’t even second guess or hesitate before your arms are wrapping around the redhead as her head lands on your shoulder. “Thanks, Y/N. For bein’ there for me.”

“Even when you’re a stubborn asshole.” You add teasingly.

Half heartedly, Melissa shoves at you but she’s also still cuddling into you so she doesn’t really try to get you away. “Even when I’m a stubborn asshole.” She agrees quietly after a beat.

[mekanikaltrifle]

Have to say, I learned a couple of things about Americans from the housecoat poll.

one- they apparently dry themselves with the terrycloth bathrobe/dressing gown/housecoat whatever you want to call it. This baffles me. Why not use a towel? What about your legs? (obviously if you're somewhere warmer, that's less of a problem. But it is cold here in Scotland and I would NOT be doing that)

two- they do NOT like not being included in something that ultimately was meant to go to like. 15 people max and largely for a British English/European audience with a couple Americans and Canadians scattered throughout

three- they also do not google regional linguistic differences and instead start yelling in the tags about how anyone who speaks like I do is stupid/old-fashioned/wtf and so on. I'm not stupid, I just speak differently to you. Funny how often I have to say that.

four- they keep calling the OP (me) English. Which is a cardinal sin and I will now be programming the orbital laser to destroy everyone who has ever referred to me, the OP as English. No take-backsies as you yanks say.

Additionally I did really like the brightsides, which was finding other Scots and some folks of various stripes going to bat for me after seeing how mean-spirited some of it all was getting. Thank you to youse that did that, I really appreciate it. All in all, I will make every effort NEVER to accidentally go viral again. For that you have my guarantee.

[rewordfully]

Could you explain your tags on the second person pronouns post? I'm interested in knowing more! Do you mean we're going back to having a different "you"?

i meant the relatively widespread use of yall, youse, you guys (to a lesser extent), etc. obviously this is not a codified paradigm change - the fact that there are so many different options is proof enough - but it's something we do to compensate for having two pronouns identical in everything but number. a change in a closed category like pronouns is difficult, but not unprecedented. english has done it several times before and it's a matter of time before it does it again with plural you, it just might take a while to become fully homogenous everywhere.

[the-woild-is-y-erster]

haha since I got like six notes on the post abt my sprace thing here you suckers go

It's raining. and I mean pouring. And of course, it just so happens to be on my birthday, so its cold as balIs. and I'm not having a very good day.

I trudge back towards the lodging house, stomach grumbling and bag nearly full of papers I couldn't sell after it started raining. As I pass one of the parks that marks the border between Brooklyn and Queens, I wonder what Spot is doing. probably playing a game with his boys, not soaked and shivering, I think despondently. Deciding to try and wait out the rain for a bit, I duck under the awning of a shop, sitting on the curb. I take off my cap, wringing it out as I watch people with dark umbrellas pass on the street, hurrying towards their destinations. 

I hear the shop door open behind me, and two people walk out. I don't bother to look who.

"It was so good to see you again, Sean." a girl's voice says. Sean...do I know a Sean? sounds familiar. 

"Anytime, Sarah. Shall I walk youse home?" the boy's voice sounds like someone I should know, but I feel like I'm hearing him as though through a tunnel. "Oh, no, that's ok. I'm sure Ama and Papa are worried, and it's in the other direction. We should meet again soon though, I'd love to hear more about this friend of yours." I hear the teasing smile in the girls' voice as she speaks, and a responding embarrassed chuckle from the guy. 

"Yeah, sure thing, Sar. How's about next Saturday? I-" he pauses, and I feel eyes on the back of my neck. "Tell ya what, I'll see you on Thursday, Jacobi's?" his eyes are still on me, but I get a lot of stares, so I don't think much of it. 

The two say their goodbyes, and the girl walks away. I rub my nose. the rain doesn't seem to want to stop; if anything, it's raining harder now. I hear a splash next to me, and see a familiar pair of boots land on the street beside mine. I look up, surprised. 

"Spot?"

he sits. "The one and only. What are you doin' all the way out here, Racer?" his shoulder brushes mine. I shrug. "Sold a grand total of twelve papes before this started." I gesture out towards the rain. "Decided to try and wait it out, but that seems like s'not gonna happen any time soon." I cross my arms on my knees, putting my chin on top. 

I swallow, trying to ignore the pit I feel growing in my stomach. "Who-uh, who was she?" I ask quietly, half hoping Spot doesn't hear me. He looks over at me, but I keep my gaze firmly fixed on the street. "Who, Sarah? oh, she's Mouth's sister, we met at the rally. Why, you jealous?" he knocks his shoulder against mine, half grinning, but I can see the frown of his eyebrows out of the corner of my eye. 

I huff a laugh. "Som'n like that. She nice?" the pit seems bottomless now. 

"Plenty nice, we's got lots in common. She wants to go to college upstate, get her degree in English literature." Spot says, seemingly oblivious. I nod, feeling the pressure in my throat. "S' real good, Conlon. I'm glad." I abruptly stand, determined not to cry in front of him again. "Hey, listen, it's gettin' late, and Jack's probably worried, so i'se is just gonna..." I gesture vaguely over my shoulder, already half turned away. I hear Spot get to his feet behind me.

"Wait- Race!" 

"Bye, Spot." I round the corner, and blink, hard. I start walking briskly, soaked to the bone and shivering like a leaf in the wind. Ignoring the sound of Spot calling after me back under the awning, I walk faster, a tear tracking its way down my face, disappearing with the rain.

"Anthony!" I hear splashing, and turn to see Spot running after me. he stops a few feet away, and I can already see his shirt getting wet. "Wait!"

"What is it, Conlon?" it comes out harsher than I mean it to, and he takes a step back. "Tony, what's your problem?" he asks, frowning. "One second we was havin' a perfectly civil conversation, the next you'se is storming off, 'boutta cry! Was it somethin' I said?" His slate blue eyes shine out from under the brim of his cap, concerned.

I look down at my boots, my jaw working as teardrops hit the tops of them. "I'm not gonna have this conversation yet, Conlon, because you-" I bite my tongue. "No. it's fine, I'm fine, I just need to get back to the lodge." I start turning around again. 

"Anthony, please, what did I do? was it Sarah? I promise she's perfectly nice, her and her-"

"That's just it!" I explode, whipping back towards Spot. "That's the problem. You-" I blink, but it does nothing to help the steady flow of tears. "I what, Race? Please, why do you not like Sar so much, she-" he starts.

"Because I'm in love with you, okay?" I screw my eyes shut and hang my head. you've really done it now, you idiot. Oh well, might as well open your big mouth again and make it even worse. "And you have Sarah, and Jack has Davey, and Blink has Mush, and Katherine has- I dunno, but that's just it." I open my eyes again to see Spot's mouth hanging open, a look of shock frozen on his face. "I'm alone. I'm alone in a world of couples, and I'm so. desperately. lonely." I snatch my hat off my head, waving it around in frustration. "And I'm in love with you, and I know you'll never feel the same, because it's wrong, and you have Sarah now, but I'm so pathetically alone, and yeah, I have Jack, and I guess I have you now, but I just- I need to be held, I need to receive the same love I've given my entire life, I need someone to just be with, and I-" I'm cut off my a pair of lips on mine. 

haha love me some good *checks notes* happy couples

might be a smidge outta character but I wrote this when I was sad and projecting lmao

[linguistics-and-such]

Every linguist and their grandmother knows about the "thou"-"thee"-"ye"-"you" situation.

(In older English, "thou" was used as the singular subject, "thee" was used as the singular object, "ye" was used as the plural/formal singular subject, and "you" was used as the plural/formal singular object. Eventually, though, "thou", "thee", and "ye" faded into obscurity, and "you" became acceptable to use in the subject, object, singular, and plural.)

For centuries, people have been trying to find a solution to a certain linguistic gap in English. That is, there is no singular 3rd-person pronoun for referring to people animately and unambiguously. "It" is inanimate and can thus be perceived as dehumanising, and "they" can be confusing because it can be both singular and plural. (No hate to people who go by "it" or "they" - I'm just pointing out the linguistic issues with them.)

Since at least the 1800's, various educated people (linguists, lawyers, doctors, teachers, etc.) have been trying to find a solution to this linguistic gap by attempting to implement neologistic pronouns (they're now commonly known as "neopronouns" but, back then, they were usually called "epicene pronouns").

The attempt to introduce a new pronoun into the English language actually had a lot to do with early feminist movements. Historically, many people viewed a statement like "Everyone has to choose his own poison" as sexist (it is), and they viewed a statement like "Everyone has to choose their own poison" as grammatically incorrect (it isn't).

Neopronouns are making some headway in the English language (as well as in other languages, like French and Spanish) since the advancement of trans and non-binary discussions. But progress is slow in English, likely due to the fact that pronouns are considered a closed class of words in that language, as well as general social pushback towards trans and non-binary people. I have no doubt that at least one set of neopronouns will pass into common usage eventually, though I have no idea how long that will take.

In the meantime, I was made aware of a very interesting compromise from the podcast, Ling Thusiasm (episode 02, I believe: "Pronouns. Little words, big jobs"). The podcasters talked about the "thou"-"thee"-ye"-"you" situation I mentioned at the start of this post.

The podcasters said that, because "you" is now ambiguous, many makeshift plurals for it have been invented over the years, many of which are now words in their own rights. The most common ones I've come across are "youse" (possessive: "youse's") and "y'all" (possessive: "y'all's"). I'm from Australia (mate), and I constantly run into "youse" and "youse's." I also have friends from the USA, and many of them make liberal use of "y'all" and "y'all's". I've also seen/heard of "you'uns" (from "you" and "ones"), "yuys" (from "you" and "guys"), and "yinz" (not sure what that's from).

The podcasters suggested coming up with makeshift plurals of "they" in the same way, so "they" could be (mostly) singular, like "you" is now. This interested me because some of my linguist friends and I have previously come up with this exact idea.

So, this would be things like "theyse" (or "themse", though I think "theyse" is easier to pronounce), "th'all", "they'uns" (or "them'uns", which I think rolls off the tongue a bit better), "thuys", "thinz", etc.

We already have sort of a workaround for the ambiguity of "they", and that's popping in words like "both" and "all" to specify when we're talking about more than one person. For example, if I were talking about my non-binary friend who goes by "they", and I were talking about them giving cookies to three other people, I'd say something like "They gave them all cookies." If my non-binary friend were the one receiving the cookies from the other three, I'd say something like "They all gave them cookies."

But I think it would be cool to have an "official" plural or two of "they", since "you" has so many already. Plus, it'd be quicker to say "Th'all gave them cookies" or "Theyse gave them cookies" than "They all gave them cookies." Yes, pronouns are closed class in English, but that doesn't mean that members of that group can never change or come about. It just means that it's more difficult to change or invent members of that group than, say, a noun or a verb.

[vintagemulti]

hey! can you do a little word guide for writing common stuff in Scottish? like 'you, you're, your' or what'd you call your family members or common stuff that happens in family events like Christmas, family dinners and all or common words which slip through no matter what with examples. i mean if you're okay with it. would be great help for writing soap. cuz in fics when he is vulnerable, its good to see him slip into Scottish and also the s/o wanting to know all of him in his language yknow 😅 sometimes google isnt enough and being true to the character's culture and stuff means a lot to me. [been going through you're blog its great]

of course!! thanks for asking instead of just guessing :)

so for words that just kind of slip in if you’re talking to someone it’s something like this;

- aye / naw (yes / no)

- how’s you (how have you been)

- youse (you guys / all of you )

- hen (pet name for women doesn’t really matter who)

- where abouts do you stay (where are you from)

- oh aye and i sailed a banana boat down the clyde (this is for when you really don’t believe something someone’s said, the clyde is a river in glasgow)

other than that i think we basically just talk normally but little slang words do slip in sometimes but it does depend on who you talk to, if it’s someone who doesn’t speak english well or really wouldn’t understand we’d stick to proper english. i recommend watching an episode or two of a show called “still game” to really get a good understanding of how we talk (i’d put subtitles on if i were you lol) and it’s also just a really great show.

as for things that happen on famiky occasions it’s just about the same as anywhere else and i can only really talk on personal experience as my family may be different to others.

on days like christmas we open our presents then go see both sides of the family, have our dinner and go up to my aunt and uncles, but again that may differ between people.

i’d say the only thing that stands out for new years as an occasion is on BBC scotland (our new chanel) they do a hogmanay (is that a common word? my english friend didn’t know what hogmanay was. it’s the 31st of december) broadcast and they do like a countdown to the new year and everyone i know watches it. (i would just watch it on youtube if you really want to know)

sorry if this is a lot lol! thanks for asking again :)

[paradoxcase]

I want to do a second person plural possessive pronoun poll, just because English has so many different option and I'm curious about the distribution.

Select the word(s) you'd be most likely to put in the blank in the sentence when having a normal in-person conversation, regardless of which one you think is actually "correct". More than one of these options may sound good to you, so read all of them before selecting the one you'd be *most likely* to use. No, "your" is not an option, pick something else.

Please reblog for a wider sample! Also, if you selected one of the last two options, please leave a comment with the word you use.

[oiladgivememoney99]

NSP Rewrite, Humans, Refuted

Cory yawned as he stumbled into the briefing room of his team’s quarters, everyone having already gotten there before him. Including Triana who had called the meeting.

“Finally, there you are Private,” Triana sighed as the man entered the room.

“The best for last!” Cory laughed, no one else did. “What did you call us here for?”

“Well first off; we have gained a new Private in this task force,” Triana motioned towards a young man with short, orange hair. “Johnson, introduce yourself,”

“Hi everyone, this is uh… my first mission, so I’m a little nervous,”

“Ah you’ll be fiiiine… probably,” Scott reassured as he patted the man on the shoulder.

“I give him one day,” Nikole whispered to Cory.

“Oh, don’t be such a nihilist,”

“Thank you Johnson; now second off is we have a new misson,” Triana cleared her throat. “Evidence of instances of SCP-3199 have been reported within rural Ireland. These creatures can prove incredibly hard to contain if allowed to reproduce, we’ll have to move quick,” Triana said as she prepared to leave the room to the helipad on the roof. “I’ll explain more on the ride there,”

Speaking of the ride there it was… pretty uneventful, just Triana explaining that these things laid eggs like crazy, and other boring stuff that nearly made Cory fall asleep; though a small nudge from Hooper kept him up.

“Th-This thing sounds really dangerous,” Johnson mumbled.

“Most of everything we contain is; we do this so no one else has to, remember that Private,” Triana stared the ginger man down.

“I will ma’am!” He saluted as the helicopter landed in a nice green field.

Triana tapped the headset on her head. “Bluejay, general direction of the farm that reported the Skip?”

Everyone’s headset beeped and Lara spoke. “A couple kilometres north, shouldn’t be too long to get there,”

“Great, follow me all of you,”

The crew wandered, Johnson a little more shakily than the rest.

“Hey New Guy!” Cory greeted, the ginger turned to look at him.

“Y-Yeah?”

“Don’t worry too much about your first mission, LT likes to overhype the danger of things so that we don’t good off,” Cory explained.

“Not really,” Hooper butted in. “These things are still pretty damn dangerous,”

“I-I know, I’ll do my best,”

“Good to hear, you’d be better than Cory anyways,” Hooper chuckled.

“Hey! I haven’t fallen asleep during a briefing in like… one whole week!”

“Only cause I woke ya up,”

“You two, quit fighting like a married couple, we’re here,” Triana snapped her fingers. Cory felt his face get a touch warm (from embarrassment, duh,) as his argument was interrupted. Nikole smirked as the crew stopped outside of a rinky dink wooden farmhouse.

“S-Sorry ma’am!” Hooper apologised.

An old man, probably the farmer who owned the house walked out and greeted the agents.

“Good day youse, heard ye were gonna come help me with this ol monster problem,”

Cory squinted as the man spoke barely understandable English, Triana cleared her throat.

“Yes sir, that’s what we’re here for. Where did you first see this ‘Monster?’”

“Aye, ran straight into me chicken coop boy, started screamin’ as it ate ‘em alive!” The Irishman waved his hands around. “Then it headed off into the wilderness as I waved me shotgun around at it, the cowardly shitstain!”

“We understand your frustration, sir, thank you for your time,” The rest of the crew nodded as they prepared to leave for the wilderness.

“Aye thank you boy, ‘specially since yer not makin’ me pay a cent for this,”

“So, how long are we gonna be wandering this uh… bumfuck nowhere?” Nikole both asked and complained in one sentence.

“Until we find any-” Triana was interrupted by footsteps, not exactly human footsteps, but not different enough to be some wild animal.

“Detecting multiple instances of SCP-3199 in the nearby area,” Lara called out over the radio, sounding like she had turned pale. “Stay safe,”

“We will,” Triana reassured. “Let’s split into groups of three. Cory and Hooper, you two are coming with me,”

“Yes ma’am,” Hooper saluted.

“Sure thing LT,”

“Good, we’ll be searching around this area, the rest of you will set up point defense here, am I understood?”

“Y-Yeah!” Johnson said as the other two nodded.

“Great, I don’t want any screwups, especially from you, Sergeant,” The Lieutenant scowled.

“I haven’t even done anything ya Drone…” Nikole grumbled under her breath. “Sure thing, Boss,”

“Good, let’s get moving team!” She ordered as Her group walked into the wilderness ahead…

“Ugh… this is gonna get boring,” Nikole complained.

“Oh come on, boring point defence is better than scary deathy point defence,” Scott chuckled as he set up some barriers. “Johnson, help me set up these barriers.

“Ah, sure things Sir!” Johnson quickly ran over to help set up the defences in the… well point they were defending.

“Don’t be all formal and junk, dude, just call me Scott,” The unironic frosted tips haver smiled “What’s your first name anyway?”

“Oh uh, sorry… it’s Mark,”

“Nice to meetcha, Mark!” Scott shakes the Private’s hand. “That whiney old dog is Nikole,”

“I’m only 38!” Nikole argued as she took a swig from her flask. “The smoking just makes my hair grey is all,”

“Didn’t deny the whining,” Scott chuckled, Johnson did too…

“East,” Lara called over the radio, guiding the three MTF that had elected to search for the Skips.

“So uh… what do these things do anyway?” Cory asked as he followed the Lieutenant Eastwards.

“They vomit acid and lay eggs like crazy, if we don’t deal with them now they could spread all throughout the local area,” Triana warned. “Don’t goof off on this mission, Cory,”

“I wasn’t gonna…” Cory mumbled.

“Are we gonna be destroyin’ these eggs, LT?”

“Yes, I have Cyro grenades on me to prevent the eggs from hatching, they become vulnerable under extremely low temperatures,” Triana explained.

“Are we-”

“Yes we’re transporting them,” Triana interrupted the Private. “It’ll be fine as long as we don’t screw u-”

Something skittered through the grass, multiple somethings in fact; multiple human sized somethings if we’re being specific.

“Shit,” Triana tapped her headset. “Calling reinforcements 30 clicks East, defensive positions, multiple instances of- agh!”

Triana, Cory and Hooper all ducked behind a nearby tree as the creature spat a glob of acid at them. Cory managed to get a good look at the creature: Huge hairless pale creatures, with fat bodies and chicken like arms, their mouths were melted making their gums visible.

“Oh Jeez,” Cory whispered.

“Johnson and Kaminski are heading to your location now,” Lara announced. “They’ll be there soon,”

“Alright, we’ve been instructed to terminate these things on sight,”

“Got it,” Johnson affirmed.

“How many exactly are in the area, Bluejay?”

“Three-”

Lara was interrupted by one of the creature screaming, no screeching in utter agony as a red acid poured out of its mouth.

“Soon to be four if we don’t deal with them fast,” Triana said. “We fire on them the instant reinforcements get here, got it?”

“Yes ma’am!” Cory and Hooper saluted.

Johnson and Nikole got there not soon after she said that, Nikole wielding her revolver and Johnson wielding a shotgun.

The three creatures looked over at the duo as Triana’s group jumped from behind the tree.

They rained hell on the creatures, managing to take down two near instantly before-

“AGHHH!” Johnson screamed as a glob of acid melted his arm, he fell straight to the ground; Cory ran over to go help him.

“Cory! What the hell are you doing?” Triana ducked behind the tree as she fired upon the last couple Skips

“Johnson? C’mon get up buddy you’re gonna make it,” Cory tried to reassure as he rapidly looked around to see-

The bloodied creature, riddled with holes looking right down at him; Cory froze as the thing slowly opened its gaping mouth, pouring out.

THUNK

Cory felt himself weakly being pushed to the ground, the acid vomit completely missed him and hit Johnson instead, right in the chest.

“J-Johnson?”

BANG

Johnson blew the things chest clean out, then instantly collapsed to the floor; a grimacing, pained smile on his face as he bled out.

“Johnson?”

There was nothing coming from the ginger man anymore. The rest of the crew all looked over at the half melted body, most looked with sorrow or confusion; Cory looked with grief, he felt tears begin to prick in the corner of his lens.

“A-Alright team, I’ll call the helicopter and we’ll take these eggs to the nearest site,” Triana said, quieter than usual.

“That’d be…” Cory didn’t bother to finish.

Cory sat in the lounge of his barracks alongside the rest of hiis team, hours after the team had gotten home from their mission. He stared into space thinking about Johnson… about how he had failed.

“Alright, it took me awhile, but I managed to get everything set up,” Triana announced as she walked out from a door, probably leading to a spare room.

“Set up what?” Cory asked.

“We like to hold funerals for the people we’ve lost in this unit, The Foundation doesn’t hold any official funeral services of its own,” Triana explained.

“Oh that’s… sucky,” Cory looked down.

“How many of these have ya held?” Hooper asked.

“Too many, heh,” Scott nervously laughed.

Lara stayed silent alongside Nikole who took a swig from her flask.

Everyone followed Triana into the spare room, within it was a podium with a framed picture of Johnson’s face, candles were lit next to it.

Triana went up to the podium first.

“Y’know I always think I’m prepared for these, but then you set up the picture and… I’m already… nevermind,” Triana cleared her throat. “We didn’t have Johnson in our team for very long, but that doesn’t change the fact that we’ve all lost a man today. As the Lieutenant of this task force I sometimes fall into the habit of viewing people as assets, not well… people, but then someone dies, dies under my watch and it all comes to me,”

Scott went up next.

“Johnson was a good kid, just wanting to make his superiors proud; I think we’re all like him in a way y’know?” The big guy cleared his throat. “I think the best way we can remember him is by being proud of all he did for this whole team,”

Then Lara.

“I… suck at these,” Lara sighed. “None of us really knew Johnson very well, but that doesn’t mean we shouldn’t honour his memory, what little of it we- I shouldn’t say that,”

“It’s alright, Lara,” Triana smiled.

“Thanks Tri,”

Cory felt his breathing get heavier and heavier as Hooper walked up to the podium.

“We lost not only a good asset today, but a good man too. Johnson gave everythin’ for us, and the best we can do is remember him,”

Cory felt the air get heavy, he couldn’t take it, he couldn’t fucking take it he had failed Johnson and that was that.

He ran as fast as he good, he didn’t deserve to be at the funeral of the person he failed.

“Huh, guess it got too much for him,” Triana said, the whole team was looking at the door that Cory had ran out of.

“Stay here y’all,” I’ll deal with it,” Hooper walked out the same door.

Cory sat on his bed, head in his hands as he thought about how many people he had failed: Uni, Cooper… and now Johnson, probably a whole host of other people too, he really was the biggest failure of all tim-

“Hey Cory,” The soft voice of Hooper pierced Cory’s thoughts. “You alright?”

“Huh? Hey Hooper…” The blonde mumbled. “I… I failed Johnson today, if I had just gone in front of him he would’ve-”

“He pushed ya to the ground for a reason, Cory,” Hooper sat down next to the Camera Faced Man. “He was givin’ his life for ya,”

“I- I know I just don’t understand wh-”

“I don’t understand it neither, alls I know is that givin’ your life for your fellow man,” Hooper looked up at the roof for a minute. “That’s just about the best thing any man can do, ya gotta appreciate someone willing to do that,”

“I… yeah, yeah I do,” Cory smiled. “Thanks Hooper,”

“Anythin’ for a friend, Cory,”

[theauthorlives]

for the impressions : actor >:D

Yancy the Impressionist!

-

"So at first I didn't know who youse meant by this. I was thinking youse was looking for some overall 'what if I was an actor' kinda thing. But then I got told what youse meant and -"

There's a sigh.

"I was told there's more than one of this guy. God, like, I couldn't deal with one back in the day and now youse is telling me there's a chance there is three others at least hanging around? But, I's is a man of my word. I said I'd do impressions." Holding his hands up in defeat, the prisoner knows when to give up a fight.

For this, he undoes his loose hairstyle and instead brushes it back until it's mostly flat.

"Oh, I'm sorry. Were you trying to talk to me just now? Do I look like I have time to - oh, what's the word? - mull around with the commoners? Please." There's a scoff that accompanies a dismissive flick of the hand. This time around, it's a mockery of a posh English accent. "Oh, I know you're going to say I'm not actually English, but darling. Daaarling. It's all about the act. If you sound rich and fancy, then everyone will believe you. It works so very nicely with my ability to charm anyone into thinking I'm a decent person. After all, how else could I possibly have anyone kissing my bottom when I want it? It certainly isn't for my personality, oh ho ho."

[datasoong47]

English pronouns have had some interesting developments over the past few centuries

In the second person, the old singular thou has been lost almost entirely (there's apparently still a few dialects that preserve it, and of course it retains some religious use), and the old plural you is developing a specifically singular meaning in many dialects, while in others it remains non-number-specific. But even in many dialects where you can be used regardless of numbers, a specifically plural form has arisen, with different dialects coming up with different terms, such as y'all, youse, yinz, you guys, you folks, etc. It seems quite likely that this development will continue and a future stage of English will be left with you being specifically singular and some other form as a plural. The only real question is whether one of the competing dialectal forms will win out in all dialects, or whether there'll remain dialectal variation in the 2nd person plural (both are plausible scenarios I think)

In the third person, they has recently acquired a use as a singular specific pronoun. It has long had a singular indefinite usage going all the way back to Middle English - that is, being used to refer to an unknown or unspecified individual (e.g., "someone left their umbrella behind"), but it's recently come to be used to refer to a specific known individual. I've even heard some people using they as a general-use pronoun, including for cis people and animals. It's conceivable - though by no means certain! - that it will eventually replace he and she, and future English will have two 3rd person singular pronouns - an animate pronoun they and an inanimate pronoun it. This leaves the 3rd person plural without a dedicated pronoun, so I suspect that, similar to the 2nd person plural, some form of new plural will develop. My guess as to what would be the most likely development is those ones (possibly shortened to just those or some other contraction like "those-uns" or "tho'nes" or something) being extended to personal use, but other possibilities exist (conceivably even something like they-all → th'all by analogy with y'all)

I also wonder if agreement might change in the future with singular they. At present singular they still takes plural verb agreement - they are not they is, despite singular nouns and other third-person singular pronouns (including neopronouns like xe!) take the singular. It seems probable to me that singular agreement might, at some point, come to be used with singular they, so that future generations might happily say "they is" for singular they, just as "themself" has come to be accepted for many speakers

(Side note: I would love to read a study of child language acquisition focusing on singular they and verbal agreement - there are plenty of families today where children are growing up with a parent or other relative or close family friend who uses singular they, I would be fascinated to see if children in such contexts have difficulty using plural agreement with singular they)

The 1st person, meanwhile, has been pretty stable in most dialects since the Old English period, with only changes in pronunciation and the loss of the OE dual, and there's no reason to suspect that that will change anytime soon (especially outside of any broader changes like loss of case distinctions in pronouns in general - which has happened in some dialects already!) (there are some specific contexts where "we" is used in place of "I" or "you", but I don't see that being likely to spread outside of those contexts)

I suspect that future linguists will describe these changes in the pronoun system as a characteristic of what we now call Modern English (which they'll presumably give some other label to), perhaps even using the conclusion of that process to define the cutoff between our stage of English and the next stage. Middle English saw the loss of grammatical gender, adjective agreement, and the near-complete loss of the case system outside of pronouns, while Modern English saw the loss of the old 2nd and 3rd person (animate) singular pronouns and the replacement of the old male-female-inanimate distinction with a new animate-inanimate distinction, along with the development of new 2nd and 3rd person plural pronouns

[mykneeshurt]

Mister Morgan - Chapter 8

Arthur Morgan x F!reader

All warnings on the title page

Chapter nine

The night dawned quickly. You set about getting yourself ready, hunting knife, check, switch blade in your boot, check, volcanic pistol, check and last but not least your Lancaster Repeater. Dark blue steel, a pearl trigger and sight and dark stained wood adorned the weapon. Your pride and joy. Apart from Taliesin that is. You ditched your ankle length skirt in favour of some black jeans and a black shirt, much more comfortable.

A whistle from the entrance of your tent grabbed your attention. “Damn. Ain’t you a sight.” Arthur grinned from the shadows, he too dressed in all black. “Looks like you’re going to a funeral.” He chuckled.

“Maybe I am.” You reply flashing him a wicked grin over your shoulder. Arthur entered the tent and pulled you in by your waist. He smelt good, firewood and outdoors with a slight hint of sage soap from the bath house. He leant down and pressed a firm kiss on your lips, reaching up you cupped his face and pulled him in closer. As he pulled away you bit his lower lip, he let out a deep growl “Don’t be startin’ somethin’ you can’t finish.”

You looked up at him flashing him your doe like eyes trying your best to be innocent. “Well if you’re a good boy, maybe I’ll finish this later” you whispered as you guided your hands down his torso and down to his crotch. He let out a sigh of frustration as you grazed him with your fingertips. Peering up at him through your long dark eyelashes you bit your lip before planting another firm kiss on his soft lips.

“English, me beautiful lady, yous two ready?” Sean’s voice shattered the tension you’d created in the tent. “Coming Sean!” You yelled over Arthur’s broad shoulders. Arthur watched you intently as you skirted past him and beckoned him with your finger “Come on cowboy, we’ve got work to do.” Arthur soon trailed behind you like a puppy dog, if you didn’t know any better he was internally drooling.

The ride to the Gray’s mansion was uneventful, Sean filled you in on how he managed to drop off moonshine to the grounds earlier that day before slinking back off to camp. He’d stashed the moonshine in a tree hollow just out of site of the tobacco field itself.

Sean was going to keep a look out while you and Arthur doused the fields with moonshine before lighting it up. As you approached the mansion you spied a few guards patrolling the grounds, four or five you weren’t sure. You could see the gold glow of their lanterns swaying in the dark. “Alright, mi lady you take the further field, Art’ur you take the closer one. I’ll head over to t’ barn and keep watching from t’ere. I’ll meet youse over t’ere.”

You both nodded in agreement. You hitched your horses just off the grounds in some dense trees, far enough away they were out of danger but close enough to run to if needed. You and Arthur grabbed a bottle of moonshine each as well as some fire bombs. He pulled you close before you parted ways and placed a delicate kiss on your forehead “Be careful darlin’” he whispered. You squeezed his hand in acknowledgement before scurrying off to your designated spot.

The tobacco plants were thick and high providing perfect cover for you to weave in and out of. You managed to douse the field in no time, now just to make it over to the barn without being seen. You spent a few minutes watching the guards to see what their pattern was, when you thought you had it figured out you dashed behind a fence. Double checked and ran to the barn to meet up with Sean. Sean had taken out one of the guards there already. “Right, light ‘er up love.”

You glanced up and Sean “Ready?”

He nodded woth pure excitement, Sean loved nothing more than a good gun fight. As you threw the fire bomb igniting the barn Arthur came dashing across the path. “Christ, you ain’t wasting no time are you.”

“Not when I’ve got other arrangements” you winked at him. He smiled to himself before pulling his bandana over his face waving for you to do the same.

“They’re over there! Quick!” The first sounds of gunshots filled the air. You took cover behind a bit of fence and took aim towards some of the guards. Bullseye. You managed to take a few more down before lighting up another fire bomb and launching it into the field in front of you.

The tobacco field caught fire immediately lighting up the night sky. A bullet whizzed past your head forcing you to take cover. Crouching down you managed to pick off a few more men through a hole in the fence. As you made your way back towards the edge of the grounds to your horses Arthur and Sean threw some more fire bombs into the remaining fields. The heat from the fire caressed your face, the smoke was thick and heavy. You felt Arthur’s hand on your back ushering you to move faster.

“English there’s Fuckin’ payroll over here!” Sean screeched with excitement from a wagon. “We ain’t got time Sean!” Arthur yelled. Sean flashed Arthur a cheeky grin “Just keep them offa me a few more minutes!” Arthur rolled his eyes and stood up managing to take out two more men. You took this as your cue to do the same taking out one more and injuring another. “Sean! Come on there’s more comin’!” You shouted at him. He jumped down from the wagon a wad of cash in hand and a huge toothy grin spread across his face. Arthur ruffled his hair “You’re damn lucky there was money in there or I would’ve shot you myself” he laughed.

“You’re welcome English. Come on, we gotta get outta here” he winked.

You all ran towards the horses the fire roared in the distance, crackling and spreading across the grounds. You mounted Taliesin and ruffled his mane he let out a small whinny and stamped his hooves.

“Youse two comin’ back to camp? Or shall I meet you t’ere?” Sean asked.

You leant forward in your saddle “we’ll meet you back there Sean.” You could feel Arthur’s gaze burn into your back. Sean looked between the both of you “Oh. It’s like that is it English? Well, I’ll leave youse two to it then.” Sean smiled as he trotted off into the burnt orange sky.

“We can’t stay here, come on cowboy” you purred as you clicked at Taliesin. You led Arthur to a heavily wooded area opposite from camp. The dim orange glow from camp lit up the horizon. You jumped down and hitched Taliesin to a tree, Arthur did the same. “You did good out there darlin’” he said pulling you close. “Real good.”

“I told you I’m a better shot than you Mister Morgan” you whispered into his lips as you reached up and slowly flicked his hat off onto the floor. He plunged a kiss onto your lips, firm but desperate to taste you.

He slowly walked you backwards until you were pressed up against a tree. His strong hands wrapped firmly around your waist grasping at your shirt. You let out a groan as he kissed you, deeper, harder. Your hand dropped to his crotch once again, you could feel his erection pushing against the denim.

He grabbed your wrists and put them above you head “Don’t move them. Or I’ll stop” he commanded. You nodded in silent agreement as you bit your lip.

He buried his head in the crook of your neck nipping at it gently, his breath danced along your skin sending a shiver through you. He untucked your shirt and undid the buttons one by one synchronising his kisses as he did so. He slipped it off your shoulders before placing your wrists back above your head. His kisses were hot to your skin burning a trail from your neck to your collar bone down to your stomach.

As he reached your trousers he looked up at you, his fierce blue eyes shimmering in the amber glow of camp. You couldn’t help but let out a small gasp of anticipation. He ran his fingers over the seam in your jeans exerting just enough pressure for you to feel him exploring.

He undid your button and slowly pulled down your jeans, never breaking eye contact with you. You couldn’t help but drop your one hand to his head and take your fingers through his hair. He quickly snatched his hands away from you and stood up. He leant in and hovered just above your lips “You’re not being a good girl. Don’t. Move.”

You could feel your own desperation and frustration building, you needed him. Weeks of flirting and kissing had finally taken its toll on you. He towered over you and dropped his one hand to your under garments, the other he placed on your throat. Your eyes lit up and deep hunger grew within you.

Slowly he moved the undergarment to the side feeling how wet you were. He sighed “Mmm all for me? Maybe you are a good girl after all.” Your stomach tightened. You weren’t sure how much more of this you could take. Without warning he pushed a finger in feeling how ready you were for him. You let out an exasperated moan and rolled your eyes.

He slowly inserted another and built up a rhythm all the while placing the right amount of pressure on your neck. He’d lean in stealing kisses from you when you weren’t expecting it. “Don’t stop Arthur, pl…” you whispered as he met your lips letting out a deep desperate groan. He kept the rhythm firm and slow breathing against your neck, whispering words of encouragement in your ear. “Atta girl. You’re doin’ so good.”

You could feel your muscles tightening around his fingers, you were close. You needed him. Now.

You pulled at his wrist while holding the other against your neck. You pulled his fingers up to your mouth, wrapping your lips around them to taste yourself. His eyes widened in shock. “Fuck me Arthur.”

A smirk broke out across his face, he eyes became dark. He spun you around and pushed your torso into the tree. You heard him open his zip, you smiled to yourself not fully knowing what to expect. He pulled your arms behind your back and pulled your hips slightly away from the tree.

In one smooth motion he entered you stretching you as he did. You both audibly gasped. Weeks of tension finally released. He got into a rhythm quickly, pounding against you letting out moans in between gasping for breath. You looked over your shoulder at him flashing him a wicked grin. “Come for me Arthur.” You slipped one arm away and slid it between your thighs pleasuring yourself. “Good girl” he moaned between his teeth. His pace quickened become more and more desperate. He released your other arm and grabbed your hips to steady himself, allowing him to plunge himself deeper into you.

You came first clenching around him, rolling your eyes back you moaned his name. He wasn’t far behind, he wrapped his hand in your hair and pulled your head back towards him. “Fuck, that’s it” his mumbled out of breath. With a few more thrusts he finished inside filling you. He collapsed over your back kissing your shoulders “Jesus darlin’” he whispered.

He pulled out and fastened his jeans before helping you back into your shirt. He brushed your hair out of your face and ran his thumb over your lips. “Better?” You smirked up at him. “Better.” He sighed giving you a small peck. “Can’t tell you how long I’ve wanted that.”

You pulled him into you running your fingers across his jaw line, sweat beading on his forehead. “Me too cowboy.”

[catb-fics]

From prior experience, the bio definitely sounds re-hashed by PR from Van’s own rambling. Reads WAY too professional though. If it’s fine with the artist/band and their PR team is fine with it, it goes through. In this context I can see why they went with it though. Since streaming is such a major tool now, bios with this type of power behind them matter on streaming platforms to get the feel of the band. A lot of specialists though are out of touch from what actual fans want or feel and only think professionalism but it just means you need a better PR team lmao - 🌴

It reads like someone from another planet wrote it lol. It’s way too wordy! You could write something much more professional in a much more simplistic way. CATB fans are used to seeing “see youse there!” and “I’m buzzing for this next gig, it’s gonna be class!” from Van!

I had to look up vociferous ha ha so I wonder what the non-native English speakers made of it 🤭

[beardedhandstoadshark]

Managed to get the og Etrian Odyssey running again after my card broke a few years ago <3 And was instantly smacked with the memory they still translated the first 2 games. So because of that, here‘s some German translation and localization fun-facts (?)

For example, official releases are usually translated directly from Japanese to German instead of using English as a jumping-off point. I can’t actually tell you why, since speaking English as a second language is really common nowadays, but because of this (and probably ridiculous love for accuracy in general), they usually end up being more accurate (or if not, then at least more fitting) than the English ones in meaning but also tone, which tend to be more lean regarding certain pieces of dialogue.

This sometimes ends up in weird shenanigans like various eastereggs across the Zelda franchise being either NA or German PAL only, or Emmet and Ingo from Pokemon being called "Hin und (and) Her“, which literally just means "back and forth“,to keep the pun in, even though those aren’t actually names and their English ones work perfectly fine in German otherwise.

Speaking or Etrian Odyssey, a few lines in you’re greeted by this:

"Euch“ right here means you. But not just you, not even the polite you, no no. That’s the noble you. The type of you you‘d youse for royals…or to show something plays in medieval times.

(They’re also both plural versions of the regular plural you, but not the singular one liked used here.)

The "Jungs und Mädels“ basically translates to "guys and gals“, I wonder if he says it like this in English too? In any case, it helps making his dialogue more causal and pushes that royal You more towards general fantasy instead of high noble speak. (By playing further it becomes obvious they’re doing it for the fantasy setting)

And this. THIS. It translates to "is this Guildname comfortable/pleasant/agreeable/… ?“ But the thing is, that word, "genehm“, according to The German Dictionary ever, Duden, that one’s old. It’s never used by people nowadays (having in fact changed to "angenehm“ as a normal word) and is so rarely seen it’s fancy even for fancy royal speak. Words like these are the German equivalent of dropping Shakespearean English.

…but it does work perfectly fine for a high-fantasy medieval setting. :)

However, my absolute favorite thing has to be something like this. The photo here is from Mario & Luigi Dream Team (Bros)

"Do you dare having the rules explained to you?“

"No!Fear!“ "Let’s hear (it)!“

So "wagt“, or "wagen“ in it’s neutral form, means "to dare“, however it’s specifically a kinda old-fashioned word. Definitely still somewhat used and you won’t really be looked at weirdly, but it’s rather uncommon and primarily used in media for the dialogue of nobles or to show someone’s, well, old-fashioned. For example, ghosts! And look at that, the dialogue is being said by a spooky ghost flame.

Idk if "No! Fear!“ is also a thing in any other versions but it sure is funny

And then there’s "Lass hören“. I’ve put "it“ in the translation in brackets because it kinda needs to be there to make sense in English, but in German, there is no object in this sentence. Word for word this actually translates to "Let hear“. And even though this also doesn’t make any sense in German, not even qualifying as a proper sentence, it still kinda does, and is perfectly understandable. As total slang.

"Lass hören“ isn’t just a casual way to say "Lass es uns hören“ (Let us hear it), it’s the most casual of causal you could potentially go of any of the many ways you could say this sentence, which is just so immensely fitting for a character whose job is being a plumber. And it’s not even the only instance. Any time you get speech bubbles like these, the answers Mario gives will always be in the lowest possible way of talking casual German. This even includes simple Yes/No questions, which Mario will always answer with a variation of "Yea!“/More casual version of"Nah“. (I swear at one point the no option is "Lass ma‘ “ y’all it’s so casual)

And it is always Mario, because the one time you have to play Solo as Luigi in Superstar Saga?

The answers become normal in tone. :)

Translation and Localization done with care my beloved.