#sometimes regular. sometimes irregular.

[sokokoko]

Word Of The 💫 Sometimes 💫

Write something based off the vibe you get from this word, based off the definition OR including this word. Can be anything from one sentence to a copious amount of writing.

Today:

Orphic

My go: 696 words

———

Inhale, exhale.

This was it. Today was the day. He totally wasn't freaking out or anything. No siree, Ludwin was the absolute picture of calm. He went to wipe his sweaty hands against his leather pants but thought better of it and rubbed them against his tunic. Okay, so he was a little nervous but that was normal! Fine, even. Nerves were good. His mentor herself had said that being scared to fail means you care a lot. And he did care, so everything checked out.

He needed to become a Witch. It was beyond important that he became a Witch. Maggie’s outings as Raven Hood were doing a good job keeping them afloat but they needed more. He needed this job. His work as Bast O’ Belle’s assistant gave him so many valuable skills. If he were to fail at becoming a Witch, Miss Belle would likely be opposed to associating with him any longer, right? So he needed this to work.

Ludwin felt awkward kneeling down in the empty room waiting for the ‘connection’. He was supposed to reach out and Magic would reach back, apparently. How long had he been in this room? How much longer would it be? Was he just supposed to stay in the room until he got it? Would Miss Belle be angry if they had to pick this up tomorrow? His siblings would be getting worried if he took too long.

A heat swirled in Ludwin’s face and he felt tears spring to his eyes. Magic? Are you there? Couldn't the entity hear him? Didn't it understand he needed a Witch Pact to help raise his little siblings? They were not going back to a situation where his six year old brother would be pitted against Syphons. Full grown Knights had died to Syphons. Regularly died to them, in fact! Lon had already learned to fear their parents, when to be deathly quiet and when he wasn't allowed to act like a child. He had learned he would get no love from Mother and Father. Though it was Father who manhandled Lon and ordered him to ‘train’ against the creatures, Mother was the one who purchased the Syphons and kept them alive. If Ludwin was a Witch, it would be so much easier to hide from them. His familiar would have a vested interest in keeping him alive and, by his orders, would not let his siblings die or be found. It was foolproof. But it wasn't working.

Ludwin hiccuped. Not long after, he devolved into full blown sobbing.

Oh? Oh!

His sobs stuttered. What was that?

He paused, looking around the room. Why was there a voice crooning in his ear? Something warm wiped the tears from his cheeks and he heard shushing noises.

Miss Belle? Was it Bast O’ Belle? Did she really not mind that he was too useless to be a Witch?

Want? You want? the voice purred. It was difficult to describe. The voice was high, in a giggly, gurgly sort of way? Like a fairy, he supposed. It echoed in his mind like it was being beamed straight into his head but at the same time it was in his ears like any other voice. It was in his ears, his mind, his chest, his heart, caressing his face, its arms around him—

Ludwin blinked. It was everywhere and nowhere and with him but so far away. Ugh, this was making his head hurt. He was distinctly uncomfortable yet the most warm and comfortable he'd ever been. Was this why people became Witches?

The voice again called out to him.

Want promise?

“Yes!” he said, his mind finally catching up to what it was saying. “Yes, Magic!”

Magic’s response registered to a part of him that he was sure didn't exist. The answering delighted pats touched no organ or limb that Ludwin knew of. But it filled him with a heavy relief.

My Witch, my Witch, another Witch! Magic crooned.

It was just babbling. But somehow, Ludwin knew that things would be alright now. His body grew heavier and heavier along with his eyes, the world around him darkening.

Here I go.

[yardsards]

anyway i just find it Interesting how saying "i prefer these two as a platonic pairing" is often considered to be hating on a romantic interpretation of the pair. but saying "i prefer these two as a romantic pairing" is not seen as hating on a platonic interpretation of the pair. almost like fandom as a whole still sees platonic relationships as lesser than romantic relationships. almost like too many fans still think that platonic relationships can't be worth caring about in their own right. almost like fandom tends to be full of amatonormativity.

[velaraffricate]

another really cool thing: the plural suffix -saa ends up looking like an infix in some cases due to vowel deletion and metathesis. *inqwa, *inqwasaa > ivə, izva; *kwunkaa, *kwunkaasaa > kuga, kuzga; *khaari, *khaarisaa > kaale, kaasla. seeing irregularity arise spontaneously as a natural consequence of sound changes is neverending fun. i spend so much time just running random words thru the algorithm and seeing how they change with different affixes

[fictional-worlds-are-exquisite]

now deeply curious after reading some comments on a related news article

(whether you get periods now or you got them 20 years ago...doesn't have to be current)

[dxckgrxsonx]

Between his Teeth

Pairing - Jason Todd x (F) Reader Words - 2.1k Warnings - SMUT 18+ - Explicit Sexual Content - Biting Biting BITING!! - Lil mention of choking - Unprotected Sex - Multiple Orgasms - (F) Receiving Oral - Possessive!Jason - Overstimulation - Swearing - Crying - Dirty Talk - Fluff at the End :) Notes: Happy New Year! it’s been awhile since i've posted anything of a decent length so um?? hi?? Not sure how im feeling about the quality of this but inspiration struck and here we are! i hope you enjoy <3

MASTERLIST

**

Here's the thing: there are nights in Gotham where patrol slows down. It's not a regular occurrence, something more akin to an irregularity really–but it happens. And when it does you're faced with an interesting quirk, a personality trait most would consider concerning.

Or dangerous.

Jason Todd gets bored.

His baseline as standard is marked unnatural. The death of a child recognised and reversed. Murdered soul poured back into what feels like a brand new unmarked body–everything once recognizable to him lost by a pool of Lazarus green. A pool on some nights he can still taste like bile in the back of his throat.

Patrol slows down and Jason finds himself molar deep in something terrifyingly restless.

Sometimes, the fight never materialises and Jason, who's been fighting across two different lifetimes, doesn't quite know how to react in the face of it. There's always been a cathartic edge to combat, a catch and release that leaves him breathless and exhilarated all at once. Adrenaline is one hell of a defence mechanism, swells right up to the top of his head, and if there's no decompression at the end of it his skin buzzes, eyes glowing bright and haloed in Lazarus green.

And so when patrol gets slow, Jason seeks out the brilliance of release by fucking you absolutely stupid.

**

He’s got two stupidly talented hands and they’re touching you everywhere.

The base of your spine, the shivering curve of your waist, two fingers hooked into your smart mouth to wrench every little sound out of your chest. His cock is thick and heavy and every thrust into your spasming cunt burns like he’s tearing you open.

“Fucking Christ–” A heaving, half delirious whine vibrates against his fingers like a phantom echo of your voice and Jason grins when your eyes roll into the back of your skull. He grins because taking you to pieces like this is the absolute best, most unbelievably satisfying way to burn through the frightening magnitude of energy stirring in his veins. “Ugh shit! Are you coming again? You greedy little thing.”

He can feel you squeezing at his cock, your pussy clenched up so tight it’s almost like fucking his own goddamn fist.

Jason pulls his fingers from your mouth–the digits now dripping in spit–and curls them oh so sweetly around your throat. He tightens his grip, forces you to work for your breath and the drag of air under his palm forces blood to swell up to Jason's head.

He watches you carefully, catalogues the curve of your mouth, the way your eyes roll into the back of your skull, the bliss and trust you tuck under his skin.

Fingers flex tighter and your mouth moves but instead of words, he gets a low, drawn out moan.

“Of course you are. You just can’t help it, can you?” He pulls his hand up and away from your throat, grabs firmly at your chin, and you jolt like a live wire, eyelids fluttering, thighs shaking horribly around his hips. Pressing forwards, Jason grunts at how wet you are, the base of his cock ringed in your creamy arousal. “You can take it though. You will take it. Just for me, because you’re such a good girl.”

A broken noise drags up your throat and Jason gets the flaring urge to have something–fucking anything–between his teeth.

It's not the first time he's looked at you and clamped his jaw around the desire to mark you. The possessive flicker igniting something of near biblical proportion in his veins. You're something wonderful. A person he adores beyond measure.

There's times you look at him like he's everything and it makes him feel brand new, born into a universe where home is nothing but you and your two hands that have never once hurt him.

He thinks the urge comes from that, comes from the desperation of wanting to broadcast you as his, of never wanting to be apart.

Your head tips back, throat bare, and Jason doesn’t hesitate–not even for one single second–a feral sort of thing bubbling up from the bottom of his spine.

He bites you.

He bites you so hard your vision collapses in on itself, existence bursting into a kaleidoscope of colour.

Jason sinks his teeth into the sensitive skin above your pulse point and you choke as if he’s slipped a knife underneath your rib to steal your breath. You choke and you clench up so tight around his cock he can’t fucking move.

Your knees draw up in a desperate attempt to wedge between you, back arching into the bed. You twist your hips against his weight and you grab at his shoulders, his hair, nails scratching a long line down his back, but Jason simply renders you immobile, reminds you he’s buried balls deep in your pussy and has no intention of being anywhere else.

It’s not quite pain, but it’s a blunt sort of thing at the very edge of the scale and blood rushes up under your skin to greet each indent left behind. The sting of it detonates something permanent in your psyche, life unmoored between his teeth.

Jason pulls back and he licks at his teeth, there’s no blood, but the action alone makes you swelter nonetheless. You think it might be the look on his face, the flicker of something promising devastation in his eyes.

“Fuck you.” It’s your own voice, breathless, trapped between aggravation and arousal. “How am I supposed to cover that up?”

Jason drags his fingers down to your cunt and rubs at your fat, swollen clit. Every thought fractures apart in your mouth, vowels and consonants splintering into pieces that dissolve on your tongue. You know that’s what he wanted. You don’t care.

“You’re mine.” Jason says, like that in itself is an explanation. “You’re mine and no one else’s.”

The bite mark on your throat looks brutal even to his own eyes. A perfect match to every tooth in his mouth. Your skin is starting to puff up a little, irritation blossoming into a wicked bruise. Jason hums–mostly to himself–and fucks into you hard enough that there’s an obscene squelch of your pussy every time he bottoms out.

You’re perfect. You’re his. He wants you to come again.

“I can’t. Ah fuck! Not again–” The pitch of your voice climbs when his pace fails to falter, sticky fingers still strumming at your clit. He can feel it throbbing despite you coming twice already, and he wonders how many he can get out of you this time. “Jason–I don’t think…I can’t.”

“That’s it, empty that pretty little head of yours. You don’t need to think, y’just need to keep squeezing that sweet cunt around my cock, yeah? You’re so wet for me, and you know what that means?”

A sobs works free from your mouth, thighs clenching tight around his strong hips, each thrust into your peach flesh cunt makes Jason feel like he’s bursting out of his own skin. You close your eyes in the face of pure, overwhelming pleasure and he can see how wet your lashes are.

“Ugh–no don’t–” A whimper hooks into the back of your throat. “Don’t fucking say it.”

Jason grins, half wicked, even though he knows you can’t see it, “It means you like this, little bird. You might complain and try to get away, but your pretty little pussy can’t lie to me.” Your face screws up. Jason fucks you harder, his thick thighs smacking against your ass. He pauses his movements on your clit and listens to the pitch of your whine wobble in disappointment. “You want to come again, don’t you? Hm. No. You need to come again.”

“Nooo.” You try, embarrassment flustering up your neck. “I can’t. Please. S’too much.”

Your eyes blink open and Jason thinks it’s so sweet when you’re on the verge of tears whilst he’s fucking you. Your hands reach out to grab his shoulders, to search for comfort, and you cry out his name when he touches your poor, oversensitive clit. Jason licks at the mark on your throat, his tongue catching against the swell of your near broken skin and your cunt tries to force him out.

"Let me fuck your pussy, sweetheart. Don't push me out like that."

Another desperate cry when he forces your pussy to yield to his powerful thrusts and you suddenly gush around his cock. Wetness soaks his thighs and Jason huffs in amusement when he hears you heave in a strangled breath, then sob, tears streaming down your face.

You’ve never done that before.

By the time he’s finished–by the time he’s worked through the insistent pulse of pure restlessness and settled back into what he considers a post patrol, or postcoital haze–he thinks he’ll make you do that once more at least.

**

Jason quietly appears behind you the next afternoon as you glance in the mirror, gentle fingers probing at the huge mark splattered on your neck.

His approach is eclipsed by silence and you’re struck with the awe of how quiet he can be when he wants to. The talent and skill that must go into knowing how to plant yourself so no sound escapes your trajectory, it’s staggering, and slightly alarming.

You can easily trace the outline of Jason’s bite and there’s a heavy sort of discomfort when you touch it; the sensation of pressing on a bruise in the early stages of healing, not painful but heavy and aching, impossible to ignore.

The corner of Jason’s mouth twitches upwards when your face flickers into a slight flinch, almost like he wants to smile in a self-satisfied sort of way–how typical of him to find satisfaction in something that has you labelled as owned (loved) but you meet his reflection in the mirror and settle on a half-hearted scowl.

“You’re a real dick, Todd. You know that?”

Tugging the neckline of your hoodie up, you just barely manage to cover the mark.

“It’s hard to take you seriously when you’re not wearing pants.” Jason points out, redirecting the conversation by eyeing you appreciatively. “And I don’t remember you complaining about it last night.”

Memory sparks-your own desperate, fucked out voice flaring to the forefront-and you feel heat splash up your throat.

Ducking your head to avoid Jason's stare seems like a good idea, but you know with absolute certainty that he'll request you look at him regardless–he might even press a finger under your chin to tilt your head up–all because he wants to watch you fumble over your words like an idiot.

“Yeah, uh–that’s because you fucked me stupid.” He grins wolfishly at that, then his eyes flash with either an idea, or interest. Both of which are dangerous. “Whatever you’re thinking of doing…don’t.”

Smoothing his hands from your waist, down to your hips, then the curve of your ass, Jason drops to his knees behind you. Your stomach swoops, the beat of your heart slipping temporarily out of rhythm. He hums thoughtfully and presses a kiss to the small of your back, then tugs your underwear to the side so one cheek is bare.

Confusion kicks up in your head, brain following one thread whilst Jason in typical fashion follows his own, “You've already eaten me out at least once today, for the love of fuck give me a break. Aren't you tired of eating me out?”

Jason positively growls.

"Don't ask me stupid questions." He grumbles, his tone nothing but a hard edge. "I'll never get tired of tasting your pretty cunt."

You figured that out already. Waking with his head between your thighs, talented tongue lapping at your swelling clit until you sigh his name so prettily, falling apart as he holds you open by sheer force. Reminded again when you settle down for lunch in the kitchen and Jason sits you on the counter so he can nose at your slit, mouth wrapping around your sensitive clit and sucking until you cry.

Sometimes he might as well be dating your pussy and not you.

You feel the warmth of his breath for a single, shining moment, "Then what the hell are you doin–"

He bites you.

On your goddamn ass cheek.

“There. Now you can’t complain because the only person who’s going to see that is me.”

Spinning around in retaliation you glance down and level Jason with a glaringly unimpressed look, “Yeah, congratulations. But you’ve failed to consider one very important thing.”

“No I haven't." He scoffs, rolling his eyes. "What else is there to consider?”

“How the fuck am I supposed to sit down?”

**

[oimitocat]

FLUSH MY HEART | SKZ

༘۠ chan , felix & jisung (seperate) x m!reader

༘۠ omegaverse! au + idol! au + nsfw + fluff, fluff, fluff! + slight crying + alpha!reader + mating cycle! + cock warming

༘۠ a/n; this was such a cute request!

chan’s a delicate one during heat.

from how often he’s been on suppressants, his body is overreactive during heat

yet he knows you’re the sweetest most caring alpha during his cycle

due to all his stress and lack of sleep, during his heat he’s more so sleepy and whiney than desperate for a knot

yet you figured the best way to satisfy him is to be balls deep inside him while he naps

goodness, he loves that more than the tender, warm kisses you leave on his flushed skin

fight me, but he’s definitely a pillow princess during his heat

he only has you, you, you and your knot in his mind

you always praise him and it just makes him go slack, head empty aside from your words bouncing around his brain

“baby,” you grunt softly against his neck, “you like that? feel full?”

he whimpers softly, half his face flush against the pillow.

“what a good omega, such a beautiful obedient baby.”

he’ll orgasm just from that.

since his heats are irregular, his body is pent up by the time it comes, hence as much as he just wants to stay huddled up to you and float on your scent, he knows he has to have you deep inside him

you always move him around, mark him up and overstimulate him so good he still feels sensitive after his heat

he’s so thirsty during heat, and i don’t mean for water

during regular sex, he’s shy and mostly lets you do what you want but during heat? oh baby, you need to just sit there and give him your knot

he’s a pretty vicious omega during heat, you can’t go out for no reason. he will growl if you try to leave the room and/or if anyone is at the door

normaly it’s the alpha that has hella stamina, but in jisung’s case, it’s always him that overstimulates you

his heats are consistent, every month for four days, while it’s normal for it to be every 3 months. because his heats are so consistent, his body craves more than normal. you could’ve popped four knots already and he’ll still ride you without a complaint from him.

“j-jisung-“

“alpha,” he pants, smiling feverishly at you. he’s damp in sweat, bangs dripping with it. his eyes are lidded when so alive, so hungry. “again, alpha, knot me.”

it’s not a request it’s a demand. your eyes rolls back and your hips spasm.

as much as he likes being marked up by you, he does it to you too

he’ll bite, suck along your collarbone. he’s purr when you hiss or complain.

as high as his drive is, he still has a few tender moments, when he’s sitting on top of you, with your knot deep inside, kissing your wetly and with his arms around you

as long as you’re inside him, he’s more than satisfied

sometimes you have to walk with him still attached to you, his clinginess goes beyond you. he literally wants you on him and in him at all times, but obviously if it comes to restroom usage he’ll make an exception, as long as he’s in the same spot as you he’s more than satisfied

stop, he’s always overwhelmed

meaning, show him love and he’ll cry because he feels like he doesn’t seserve an alpha like you

his scent gland is oversensitive, so you kissing it gets the cutest noises out of him

he likes it when he’s on his back and you raise his hips to rut into him, he loves seeing you lose yourself in him

he loves to talk you through it, it makes him feel so useful for you

“y/n… you like using me? you like it when i clench around you as you cum? you like it when i milk you?”

you’d shiver and grunt in agreement.

“does alpha love filling his omega with his cum?”

“y-yes.”

“is felix the only one you can get fuck like this?”

“fuck,” you’d pop another knot. “yes baby, just you.”

he’ll pepper kisses all over you and cuddle you to sleep

he’ll pump pheromones so you can get scent high and go crazy over him

he’ll want you to coat his stomach with your cum, fuck his thighs, his mouth, he’s all in it to please you even when he’s in heat

he loves it when you fuck him from behind and yank his hair, mark his nape with bites and grip his hips

he likes being shoved into the sheets and treated like a rag doll

he thrives on you using him just as much as he melts when you coddle him and whisper sweet nothings into his ear

make him cry, make him gag. just make him remember he’s yours during and after his heat

[a-griffin-in-the-sky]

A personal note about boobs from someone who’s been through their early 20s

No one told me that as I got older, my boobs would become dense. No one explained what fibrocystic breast tissue was, so with my medical anxiety, I genuinely thought I had breast cancer at the ripe old age of 22.

So here’s some advice for any young radfem out there: keep regular checks on your boobs. Pay attention to any lumps and make sure they don’t grow. If something feels like a hard pebble and seems to get bigger over time, please get it checked out by a doctor.

Because no one told me that as I got older, my boobs would become dense. No one explained what fibrocystic breast tissue was, so with my medical anxiety, I genuinely thought I had breast cancer at the ripe old age of 22!

So here’s some advice for any young radfem out there: keep regular checks on your boobs. Pay attention to any lumps and make sure they don’t grow over time,not if they grow and shrink with your cycle. If something feels like a hard pebble and seems to get bigger over time, please get it checked out by a doctor.

Fibrocystic breasts are characterized by lumpy, tender breast tissue and sometimes cysts.

These changes are primarily influenced by hormonal fluctuations during the menstrual cycle.

Estrogen and progesterone levels fluctuate, causing breast tissue to thicken and sometimes form fluid-filled cysts.

The exact cause of fibrocystic breast changes isn’t fully understood.(shocker 🙄)

Hormonal changes are believed to be a major factor in the development of these changes.

DIFFERENCES:

Fibrocystic changes often cause painful, movable lumps that vary in size and tenderness throughout the menstrual cycle.

Cancerous lumps are typically firm, painless, and don’t change with the menstrual cycle.

A cancerous lump in the breast often feels hard and firm, with irregular edges!!!

HAIR ON THE CHEST!

Hormonal changes in your 20s and 30s can also cause nipple hair to change in appearance or become noticeable for the first time.( I was really all panicked cause my right titty had areola hair and my left didn't)

DENSE TISSUE!

Dense breast tissue means your breasts have a higher proportion of fibrous and glandular tissue compared to fatty tissue.

Breast density is determined by a radiologist when analyzing your mammogram.

Age affects breast density: breasts tend to be naturally denser in your 20s and 30s and become less dense as you get older.

Real talk: boobs aren’t anime balloons they don’t jiggle endlessly or look perfect all the time. They get dense, lumpy, and hairy!

Everyone talks about puberty like it’s just a teen thing, but nobody warned me about what hits you when you actually turn 20!

So if you’re about to hit that age, keep an eye on your girls, don’t freak out if things feel different, and get anything that worries you get checked out.

I’m not a doctor, so don’t ask me if you think it’s breast cancer, because, well, I’m not. All I can do is share what I went through and what helped me.

[becausegoodheroesdeservekidneys]

Hello!! I am back with more questions from my Duolingo Welsh lessons. I am so sorry I’m annoying, but I am having a grand time but would like to get it right.

1. It doesn’t have a speech section so I’m having a hard time with my pronunciations - I’d love to learn the alphabet and know how to pronounce each of the letters. Might you have any recommendations for me?

2. I’m learning about past tense and it is very confusing. I can’t tell gwaeth from wnaeth (for example) which is worse now that I’m getting gwnes i fwyta. Have I completely misunderstood this? I thought gwaeth was the past tense of gwneud but I think maybe I’m wrong about that. Are they just past tense of Mae? But then what’s the difference between aeth and and gwnaeth and wnaeth? 😭 Am I even coherent asking this question?

3. Speaking of mutations. Any chance you can do a brief primer on that? I definitely understand it after the vowel but I’m pretty sure that’s not the only time? Because of nos, I think feminine mutations might be a thing? Also feminine mutations is going to be the name of my band.

4. Would you be willing to explain Mi? Sometimes there’s a mi and sometimes there’s not and I can’t tell why/when it should be there.

5. Also is there a difference between do/ydw and naddo/ nac ydw? Just curious.

6. Also also what’s the difference between eglwys and capel? I don’t really know if a church and a chapel are different things?

Thank you again for your patience!

Not annoying at all! Alright, let's see *cracks knuckles*

1 . Pronunciation.

Yes, this playlist on YouTube. Done by a woman from the north and a man from the south, so you can hear the differences between the northern and southern U, for example

(Southern is easier by far for a beginner. But northern sounds cooler, even though it does require you to unhinge your jaw to get it.)

2 . Gwneud.

I presume you mean "gwnaeth", rather than "gwaeth"? Gwaeth means 'worse' lol.

You're correct, though - gwnaeth is the third person singular past tense of gwneud, meaning to do or to make. 'Wnaeth' is mutated, and indicates that it's a question or a negative. Aeth, by contrast, is different - that's actually the past tense of "mynd", to go.

These, like in English, are irregular verbs, which is why they're tricksy. A verb table with regular verbs would be nice and straightforward and you just add an ending to indicate which person you're using; here's an example using "cerdded", the most beautiful and regular of Welsh verbs:

Cerddais i (I walked)

Cerddaist ti (you walked)

Cerddodd e/hi (he/she walked)

Cerddon ni (we walked)

Cerddoch chi (y'all walked)

Cerddon nhw (they walked)

Nice and easy! Ais/aist/odd/on/och/on. Plug in verbs as needed.

But, these lil fuckers are irregular. So "gwneud" goes:

Gwnes i

Gwnest ti

Gwnaeth e/hi

Gwnaethon ni

Gwnaethoch chi

Gwnaethon nhw

However, the irregulars do, at least, share these endings. "Mynd" becomes es i/est ti/aeth e etc. "Cael" has a slight twist - singular follows this pattern (ces i etc), but plural goes cawson ni/cawsoch chi/cawson nhw for no reason anyone can fathom. Even so, though, the endings are following the established pattern.

But, one extra note for "gwneud" - sometimes, rather than follow the cerdded example up above, you use gwneud to construct your past tense. So these two sentences both mean "I walked":

Cerddais i

Gwnes i gerdded

Literally, you're saying "I did walking", but it's grammatically acceptable. This means as a learner if you can hammer the six forms of gwneud's past tense into your verbal speech, you can construct that past tense with any verb you like. So, there's that.

(It also means some dialects of Wenglish use "I do" in an amazingly similar way to the AAVE habitual be. "I do go to town with Mam on Saturdays": a totally normal thing to hear in Abertillery.)

3 . Mutations.

I mean. GREAT band name.

Short answer: there are three types of mutations in Welsh, two of which (nasal and aspirate) are quick and easy to explain and one of which (soft) is a bit more lengthy and crops up all the time. They are used for two reasons: one (1), to make certain grammar clearer, and two (2), to make Welsh poetic forms possible (yes really).Do not stress about getting them right. Plenty of fluent first language speakers don't get them right all the time. You will still be understood. It is more important that you speak Welsh than stress about making sure you're perfect.

Longer answer:

Aspirate mutation. Very simply, a c -> ch, t -> th, and p -> ph. This is the only reason ph is a letter in Welsh, actually - to make the mutation more visible. Otherwise, it's pronounced the same as a ff, and so is redundant.

Used mostly after the feminine pronoun ei (her). Her cat: ei chath. Her shield: ei tharian. Her head: ei phen.

Nasal mutation. Affects a few more letters: b -> m, c -> ngh, d -> nh, g -> ng, p -> mh, t -> nh. The number of Hs there looks intimidating, I know, but they're almost always followed by a vowel, so pronunciation is actually quite easy and pleasant.

Most commonly used with the possessive first person singular pronoun fy (my), and after the preposition yn (in), both of which may change at the end to make it even easier. So Cardiff = Caerdydd, but "in Cardiff" = yng Nghaerdydd. Father = tad, but "my father" = fy nhad. Phonetically, those would be roughly pronounced "ung Hire deeth", and "vern haad", to give an idea.

Soft mutation. AKA the Bastard. A good quarter of the damn alphabet gets caught in this:

There are, IIRC, 28 different times you would use these. I shall not be listing them all.

But, the most common are:

After the masculine pronoun ei (his). His cat: ei gath. His shield: ei darian. His head: ei ben. (This is the only way, other than context, to tell whether "ei" means his or her - male gets soft mutation, female gets aspirate)

After prepositions. Am, ar, at, gan, heb, i, o, dan, dros, trwy, wrth, and hyd.

Feminine words after the definite article. Chair: cadair. The chair: y gadair.

Adjectives or adverbs following "yn". Exciting: cyffrous. The trees are exciting: mae'r coed yn gyffrous.

Adjectives following a singular feminine noun (not a plural). Beautiful: prydferth. Beautiful tree: Coeden brydferth. Beautiful trees: Coed prydferth.

Many other such occurances

4 . Explain Mi

God scientists WISH they could explain Mi.

So, this is where there's an odd little starter word, right? They come in north/south flavours (mi/fe). "I walked to town":

Cerddais i'r dref.

Mi gerddais i'r dref.

Fe gerddais i'r dref.

These mean the same thing, are entirely optional, and if you choose to use them they trigger a soft mutation. Why do this? Unknown. Helps with writing poetry to have the option.

5 . Yes and No

Yes, there's a difference - it's tense.

Welsh, like all Celtic languages, technically doesn't have single words for yes and no (although that's no longer true in informal Welsh, where ie and na are now extensively used. Particularly by learners.) Instead, each "yes" is actually repetition of the original verb, and therefore means "Yes it is", or "Yes I am", or "Yes there are" or any other permutation.

Wyt ti'n cerdded i'r dref heddiw? Are you walking to town today?

Ydw. Yes (I am).

Do and naddo are past tense. Yes I did/no I didn't, essentially, though they cover more than just first person.

6. Church vs chapel

They are different, but I am non-religious and don't really know the difference. I think it's different denominations, though. Certainly in Wales, religious Welsh-speakers are chapel-goers, and the choices are Methodist, Baptist and Welsh Non-Conformist, whereas English speakers are more likely to go to church and be, like, CoE or protestant or what have you. But yeah, this is more a religious question, so I shall have to bow out.

ANYWAY! I hope this has helped, hmu if you need clarifications or what have you

[soullessdianthus]

𝐏𝐞𝐫𝐯!𝐋𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐥𝐨𝐫𝐝!𝐊ö𝐧𝐢𝐠

A/N: I picture him in his early 40s in this, daddy is a state of a mind, no? Can you imagine having such an older man as König taking care of you? UNDER THE SAME ROOF??? I WOULD UGH-- (´ཀ`」 )

Also, my requests are open again! You can send it here!

Warnings: manipulation, slight yandere?, naive!reader, dear jesus bunch of nasty smut (voyeurism, somnophilia, fingering, spanking, daddy kink)

Poorly translated German, correct me if needed!

RENDER BY DWISESZ ON TWITTER

✧°.  König’s schedule throughout the months was irregular. Sometimes he would stay at home for a few weeks and then go on a three month deployment. Another couple of days at home and another “work trip”.

✧°.  And his home was left behind unattended, food in the freezer going to waste, dust covering his favorite armchair. König had a guest bedroom, so why wouldn’t he rent the spare room to someone, who would keep an eye on the house while he’s gone?

✧°.  The price and location was tempting, so you reached out to the landlord for more details – you were a college student, who wanted something more independent than living with her parents. 

✧°.  König took a quick look at your profile picture and accepted the deal, because girls like you shouldn’t cause any problems, right? No parties, no boys invited over. You seemed to be a well behaving girl.  

✧°.  But his struggles only truly started when you finally moved in. König would find the return to the house more thrilling than ever.

✧°.  To show your gratitude to the man who took you in, you kept the house clean with no sign of dust or webs. On a regular basis you were baking cakes or cookies, so the aroma of the pastry filled the rooms. Little did you know that it only fed the housewife fantasy of your landlord.

✧°.  König would take less hours at his work and preferred to fill the reports (or any other documentation) from the home office. Just so he could observe you shuffling through the house wearing those sweat or biking shorts. Skimpy material rolling up the curve of your plump, young ass.

✧°.  Each time you passed the living room where he was working, you sent him a cute smile. You were just trying to be polite!

✧°.  König would try to spend as much time with you as possible, even if that meant you weren’t able to finish your homework on time. :( You would watch some movies together or go grocery shopping. Quickly this thing between the two of you became more than just landlord and tenant dynamics. Although you were quite clueless, it was your first ever rental!

✧°.  One evening, when you came back from late classes, you saw him sitting on a couch holding a glass of beer. Large thighs spreaded open as he kept watching the football game on the TV. And before you knew it, König pulled you onto his lap. He wanted you to watch the game with him!

✧°.  “Sit nice and pretty here, ja?” 

✧°.  He pulled you so roughly against him, that you had to prop against his muscular chest, before your face was pushed into it.

✧°.  “König, but I have to –”

✧°.  “Sush, none of that. Now, show some gratitude to your host, schatzi.”

✧°.  König certainly had more than one beer that evening, but you had none of the alcoholic beverages. You were highly aware when he started rubbing your hip and thigh and found it… really nice. Although, nothing more! It was just a friendly gesture, right? 

✧°.  You were so oblivious to his attraction towards you that his hardened length underneath your ass was a pair of keys in your naive mind. 

✧°.  Later that night, when you fell asleep in your bed (technically his), wearing only a shirt and panties, he came into your bedroom and jerked himself off right by your bedside. 

✧°.  König could only imagine how your pretty lips would wrap around his fat shaft, drool dripping from the corner of your mouth. And do you know what fueled that imagination? You sucking on a cherry lollipop right in front of him earlier that day.

✧°.  During the next week, he kept peeping at you when taking a shower or changing your clothes with the doors kept ajar. How silly of you, standing just in sight of such a perverted man as König.

✧°.  It would only fuel his fantasies, when he continuously pumped his hips into his own palm covered in precum and his spit. König’s cock would twitch each time, when he imagined how divine it would finally feel to fuck your tight pussy sensless. His special, little guest. 

✧°.  König would welcome you with open arms, when you came back from the university one day, crying, because you didn’t pass one of your classes. But you were working so hard and you felt poorly about yourself now! :( 

✧°.  He would offer you to lay on a couch with him until you calmed down and you accepted, because König was such a good landlord!

✧°.  You didn’t even protest when this innocent act of affection turned into dirty desires. He laid beside you, one hand stroking your wet cheek and the other wandering under your panties. 

✧°.  You gasped loudly, when he slid one finger inside of you, explaining to you it will help you relax. It shouldn’t, but it felt so good! You wanted to press your eyes together in shame, but König patted you cheek with his hand.

✧°.  “Hey, hey, look at me, schätzchen. Yeah, that’s right, you feeling better now, yes?”

✧°.  And you nodded your head, thoughts focused on that pleasurable feeling between your legs, when he added a second finger. 

✧°.  König wouldn’t talk much about what you two did on the couch, but he definitely became more open about his desires. Since you allowed him to fuck you with his fingers, König would place his big hands all over his precious roommate – shoulders, hips, thighs or a playful slap on the ass, when you were removing the cookies from the oven. 

✧°.  One night, you came back really late (definitely after the curfew) and really drunk. He had to help you walk to your bedroom, because you were stumbling all the time, you could have hurt yourself in that state!

✧°.  You mumbled that you wanted to sleep, when König removed your clothes gently (only leaving you in your lacey, pink panties). He couldn’t believe how lucky he got, when you clung to his chest, searching for stability (in his eyes it was a reach for his attention).

✧°.  König helped you get into your cozy bed and slipped under the covers beside you. This time, he didn’t need to do much as your drunken form quickly found the way to his bulky chest. You nuzzled your spinning head onto his warm body and dozed asleep. 

✧°.  König had to take a few deep breaths, when your plump, naked breasts got squeezed between your and his chest. He didn’t want to jerk off right then, perhaps, you might help him, when you wake up?

✧°.  The next time you wanted to go to a club or simply for drinks with your friends, he stood there in the hallway with a strong hand placed onto the doors. König wasn’t letting you anywhere, you were supposed to spend time with him! :( 

✧°.  “I can take care of myself, you know.”

✧°.  “Oh, like the last time? When you pulled me into your bed, schatzi? Naked?”

✧°.  Your extremely tall and large landlord scolded you, twisting slightly the truth about your drunken state. But it was for your own good, why would you seek fun out there, when you had him in the reach of your hand?

✧°.  Despite your age difference, older and more experienced König would definitely take his time with you.

✧°.  “I–I…”

✧°.  You let go, as embarrassment burned like a flame inside, then furiously went back to your room. 

✧°.  Later, König would come to you and offer a bear hug, which you politely accepted, because he was your good host. But still was a bit mad at him for refusing to let you have fun outside the house.

✧°.  Soon enough, when he went for another deployment, you split on unclear terms. The colonel noticed you began acting bratty, disrespecting his house rules. But nonetheless left the home in your hands.

✧°.  When he came back, unexpectedly a few days earlier, you were still at university. You were such a smart girl. <3

✧°.  König couldn’t help himself but to rummage through your stuff. He sniffed your currently worn pajamas, looked at your books and then he opened the drawer with your underwear. To his surprise one specific object caught his attention. Could this be…?

✧°.  You were surprised to see his massive, trekking shoes on the shelf, when you returned home that evening. You were even more surprised, when you noticed your landlord sitting in his armchair, playing with something between his thick fingers. 

✧°.  “My, my… I leave for a few weeks and you already behave so… shamelessly. I thought of you better, schätzchen.”

✧°.  “I–I don’t know, what your talking about, I–”

✧°.  OhmyGod

✧°.  He was holding your bullet vibrator that was so small in his grasp!

✧°.  “You didn’t even bother to hide this thing.” 

✧°.  He lied on purpose, but you played along that lie. Perhaps, because you were so embarrassed that he found your toy! How could you be so silly and leave it on display? 

✧°.  You rushed to take it out of his grasp, but he acted quicker than you. König pulled you into his wide lap, forcing you ass in the air. The hem of your tennis skirt rolled up, exposing your bum to your landlord!

✧°.  “Seriously, a toy, schatzi? Were you really this needy? Maybe that’s why you failed your class, hm?”, he mocked your vulnerability. 

✧°.  Before you could even explain yourself to him, a loud smack echoed in the living room and a stinging pain on your bare ass blinded your thoughts. König continued to spank your plump bum until it turned red and you were sobbing incoherently. 

✧°.  He said disappointedly, “And I thought you were a grateful guest… All I did was for your good, you know that?”

✧°.  He rubbed your irritated flesh for a minute, before continuing the punishment. König licked his lips, already knowing how you would show him how much you missed your caring landlord. 

✧°.  “Are you going to be a good girl for me, ja?”

✧°.  “YES! Yes, I will! ‘m sorry!” 

✧°.  You agreed, face flustered in shame, when you felt how wet your panties had become. The Austrian bear lifted you up from his lap and made you straddle his large bulge, pressing onto the fabric of his cargo pants. 

✧°.  “Ride daddy nicely and I might forgive you, okay? Do you remeber what I told you, when you moved in? If you ever need anything, come to me. You’re a smart girl, you know I’m gonna take care of you, no?”

✧°.  “Y-Yes, König. I know.”, you sobbed, his big palm wiping your tears away. 

✧°.  Quickly you forgot about all of his alarming and obsessive behavior, when he filled you with his fat cock. The delicious feeling of him stretching your little pussy, dwarfed all of your worries.

✧°.  He was merciless that night, König didn’t even give you time to adjust to his size. Colonel’s strong hands gripped your hips and guided them to start moving. So you swayed your hips under that slutty skirt, you bought just for him. <3

[gremlingottoosilly]

Konig X Reader who works in a maid café

Maid cafes are embarrassing. Konig, the seasoned colonel in the mercenary forces, would never go to such a place, he has way too much pride. Never going to happen.

...without the mask covering his face, at least. You're no stranger to people covering their faces around here. You're not in Japan, but this is still an insanely embarrassing place to visit, even though you are located in a pretty chill part of Vienna. People usually don't want to admit they like going to made cafes for anything other than occasional anime collaborations - so you're not surprised that one of your regulars is covering his face. He looks like a big guy, too, even the baggy clothes are doing very little to conceal his muscles. Damn, you think. You never know who can end up being an anime-obsessed hunk.

He always requests you as his waitress-maid too. No surprise here either - every girl here has a regular, it was about time you got one too. Konig might be a bit weird and shy, especially the first few times you had taken his order - just stumbling all over the menu and ending up either ordering one small black coffee or something expensive and elaborate, always leaving a giant tip that almost made you run back to him each time. He is nice, really. Never tries to touch you or to ask you for your number. Buys every pack of cosplay photos you make with other girls as part of the cafe's merch. Never trying anything. Always getting so embarrassed whenever you're calling him master and ask if he would want some special dessert today. Blowing him kisses and giggling when he is avoiding your gaze. He is fun when he is shy.

Maybe, this is why you became a bit reckless. This is a relaxed place, chill place - you never expected anything to happen. Yes, Konig is quiet, big and weird but, for all you know, he is just lonely. You're just paying back for the huge tip he gives you each time. Talking to him a bit more, chatting about some personal stuff. You don't reveal anything too radical, you think - maybe sometimes you reveal nonsensical stuff like a district you live in, your favorite color, complain about the building alarm not working lately...he is a good listener, after all. You're giving him some sweet special treatment, and he will leave you almost 100% of the order price as a tip. He is an irregular guy, too, sometimes disappearing for weeks on end - probably getting shy and overwhelmed, needing to take a break.

So what that you gave him your number despite the rules of the cafe prohibiting that? He is harmless and he helped you walk to the train station a few times at your closing shift.

So what if one time you were having a staff party after work and you accidentally bumped into him, drunk and a bit reckless at night, so he walked you home? Konig is a nice guy. Definitely strong, too - you're feeling safe around him.

So what if you told him you're finally leaving the cafe to proceed with college? He is your regular client, he deserves to know.

Not like you're going to end up in his basement one day, wearing the same damned maid dress, after all.

Konig is a nice guy.

[darkskywishes]

Being disabled/chronically ill is expensive!

I don't know if people realize how freaking expensive it is to be disabled. I have a complex medical history, which includes two rare genetic illnesses, comorbidities associated with those two illnesses, and several mental health conditions. Just to give an idea of how expensive it is (USA-centric):

I'm forced into living in a specific city, since that's where the medical specialists for my illnesses are located in. On top of that, sometimes the specific specialists I need aren’t covered by my insurance, so I have to pay out-of-pocket. Each medical specialist (when covered by insurance) costs me $40/visit. I average 2-3 visits per month.

Wheelchairs and everything related to wheelchairs are ridiculously priced! If you’re a regular manual wheelchair user, for example, you likely need what’s referred to as a “custom ultra-lightweight wheelchair”. The main companies known for making these wheelchairs are TiLite, Quickie, RGK, Kuschall, and Ki Mobility. If you go on the websites for these manufacturers, you’ll see that just the frame will start you at $2,000+. Need titanium instead of aluminum to make the chair lighter? Extra $1,000. Need to add a seat cushion? More $$. Need to add a power assist device like a SmartDrive? Extra $6-7,000

Seriously, wheelchair parts are expensive. Manual wheelchair wheels will run you about $500 to $800 each (take a look at websites like Spinergy to see what I mean). Wheelchair tires will run at about $300 for the pair.

Mental healthcare! Competent psychiatric care is difficult to come by, at least where I live. Most psychiatrists are not contracted with any insurance companies. My own psychiatrist is $200 per visit, and that’s considered cheap in my area. Then, add on the cost of weekly therapy. My therapist is $150/session. Again, typical price for the area. Need residential treatment? As an example, my insurance quoted me $750 per day until the out-of-pocket max of $6,500 was met.

The monthly cost of medications! I take 7 medications. Even if each medication was “only” $10/month, that would total to $70/month.

The cost of specialized diets. Many chronic illnesses require special foods, supplements, and overall diets. A lot of these diets require extra time and expenses beyond what the average non-disabled person spends.

I wanted to spread some awareness on this issue because, even among my friend group, I regularly get surprised reactions on this topic. Disabled people are often low-income due to being unable to work consistently or at all, while also having some of the highest expenses—with many of those expenses having to be paid for completely out-of-pocket. While a lot of the examples I used above were specific to the US healthcare system, I’m aware that it’s still similarly expensive to be disabled in other countries as well.

A lot of this wasn’t even taking into consideration the cost of more expensive medical equipment, like power chairs, as well as irregular medical costs that occur more frequently among disabled people—like surgeries, hospitalizations, and the cost of diagnostic testing (MRIs, X-Rays, bloodwork, etc.).

Disabled people are taken advantage of when it comes to the price of medical equipment and medications because we don’t have a choice if we want to live and/or have any quality of life. We pay it, or we suffer.

[pookieprincessa]

Undercover!Price x Civilian!Reader

This idea/prompt has been living in my mind AND drafts rent free for AGES, guys.

Inspired by that Amsterdam operation from MW2 (why aren't people talking about it more?? dangerous guys posing as civilians are my favorite 😭)

This is slow burn-ish except it never burns; mostly "slice of life" kinda fluff. Not proofread yet.

Tw: needles (low-key, brief mention)

₊˚ ✧ ‿︵‿୨୧‿︵‿ ✧ ₊˚

It's all you've ever dreamed of.

Your own cafe, beautiful spot in the city, right by the canals where boats of tourists swim by. The railing was covered in pretty flowers, a few tables outside under big canopies to shield your customers from the sun or the rain. Don't even get me started on the evening hours, when you turn on the little lights and give the place such a cozy atmosphere.

It started out small - the locals weren't keen to swap their usual coffee place for the new, cutesy cafe in town. At first.

Then, after the first wave of tourists during the holiday season, you got a ton of good reviews online, some of your younger customers made TikToks about the place - not that you were complaining, free advertisement and all that.

Over time, you've come to recognize a few regulars - an elderly couple that always came in for a cup of coffee and a croissant after church in the morning; a group of girls that bought your sandwiches for school.

And then, there was him.

You've come to know him as "Mr. Price" and that's all you knew about him.

Sometimes, he'd show up everyday, sit at the same spot and drink his coffee.

Sometimes, he'd disappear for days, even weeks. But he came back. Always.

You didn't want to ask about it, didn't want to seem nosy. You didn't comment on the scrapes or bruises you'd occasionally catch on his hands.

Despite his irregular visits, he held a spot in your memory. He was kind, charming. Always asked about your day, always made small talk. He quickly became your favorite customer. You started looking forward to serving him, to hearing him call you sweetheart. He'd often hang around until the late hours of the evening, to keep you company while you cleaned and closed the place (he didn't want to leave you by yourself when it was already dark outside).

Today was different, though. Price didn't let you carry his coffee to his table, he took care of that himself. He didn't make small talk. And he didn't sit in his usual spot, close to the bar. He sat outside. The look on his face was different too, he seemed more serious, even tense.

You glanced at him from time to time, noticing that he kept looking around and talking to someone through an earpiece as he nursed his cup of coffee. You figured it was just connected to his phone.

Inside, Price was panicking. Cursing fate that it was YOUR cafe the men they were supposed to ambush picked for their little "meeting". He hated how he had to suddenly treat you like a stranger. He felt partially lucky, though. He could keep an eye on you this way, make sure you were out of harm's way in your oblivious state. Nonetheless, he couldn't help the rush of anxiety anytime his eyes would meet yours across the cafe. He prayed to all the gods that you don't come up to talk to him like you always did. And he sure as hell couldn't tell his general he couldn't do this op because he's been flirting with the barista.

He didn't want to put you at risk - he grew too fond of you for that. Too fond. He repeated that in his head over and over. But God, he couldn't stay away. Not when you always greeted him with that smile.

And he saw that look of disappointment in your pretty eyes when you noticed he wasn't going to sit in his usual spot close to you.

Yeah, he'd need to tell you the truth pretty soon - it would be a shame if he scared you off.

He just hoped you weren't looking when he stuck a needle in one of the men's neck and dragged him into the backseat of an armored Jeep.

That'd do it.

₊˚ ✧ ‿︵‿୨୧‿︵‿ ✧ ₊˚₊

[dwtdog]

he has the most fucked up irregular sleep schedule ever and goes like 40 hours without sleeping sometimes and says patches can’t sleep in there because she wakes him up…i totally believe him. it’s not like it’s because george is struggling with his allergies right now

right right we all know dream is someone who values regular and consistent sleep 🙂‍↕️ totally makes sense that he would kick his darling daughter who has never been a problem before now out

[mysticstronomy]

WHAT IS A GALAXY??

Blog#505

Welcome back,

Wednesday, May 14th, 2025,

The word itself comes from galaktikós kyklos, or “milky circle,” the ancient Greek term for the Milky Way, our home galaxy.

In modern times, though, we use “galaxy” more generically to refer to any large system of stars, gas, dust and dark matter, all held together by their mutual gravity. That’s actually not a bad definition, except for the small fact that not every galaxy has all these features.

There are galaxies without any detectable gas and dust, and some that seem to have little or no dark matter. I suppose the common thread is that they do all have stars, but even then we run into trouble because not all gravitationally bound systems of stars rate as galaxies.

Very generally speaking, galaxies are tens of thousands to hundreds of thousands of light-years across and have millions to several trillions of stars. Our Milky Way, for example, is about 120,000 light-years wide and contains somewhere between approximately 100 billion to 400 billion stars.

It’s hard to get even a rough number because faint red dwarfs are the most common kind of stars, but they’re so dim they fade to invisibility even relatively close to our solar system.

Still, we do know the overall shape of our galaxy, which is a gigantic flattened disk with a central bulge of older, redder stars that is about 20,000 light-years wide. The structure of the disk is dominated by four major spiral arms and several smaller ones. These arms are dotted by huge clouds of gas and dust from which stars are born. Many of these stars are massive, luminous and blue, giving the spiral arms their characteristic azure hue. Because we’re inside the galaxy, mapping it is difficult, so many details of its structure remain to be determined.

Spirals are only one of four major classifications for galaxies; the others are elliptical, irregular and peculiar.

Elliptical galaxies would be better called spheroidal; they can be spherical but are more commonly elongated, a bit like a cotton ball. Some of the largest galaxies we know are elliptical, like the mighty M87 galaxy, which has several trillion stars. M87 sits in the center of the Virgo Cluster—a large group of galaxies bound together by gravity that boasts about 2,000 members. In fact, such giant ellipticals are common in the centers of galaxy clusters. These galaxies grow by eating other ones, both large and small, that venture too close to the cluster core, so the elliptical shape itself may be caused in part by this cannibalism process.

Not all ellipticals are huge, though: many are quite small. These are called “dwarf elliptical galaxies” and are satellites of larger galaxies. The Andromeda galaxy, for example, has many dwarf ellipticals orbiting it.

Ellipticals don’t have much gas in them, if any. They appear to have exhausted essentially all their gas by making stars long ago. Massive blue stars don’t live long; they explode as supernovae within millions of years of their birth, so a few billion years after its gas is depleted, an elliptical galaxy will look very red, dominated by ruddier lower-mass stars.

Peculiar galaxies are rare. They have all sorts of shapes but tend to be, well, odd. They are usually the result of galactic collisions, train wrecks on a cosmic scale. The mutual gravity of two interacting galaxies stretches and distorts their otherwise regular shapes, creating long, curving tails of flung-away stars. Sometimes, if a smaller galaxy plows right through the center of a larger one, the collision creates a ring galaxy, in which the stars and gas are splashed away from the larger galaxy’s center like ripples on a pond after a rock is dropped in.

Originally published on https://www.scientificamerican.com

COMING UP!!

(Saturday, May 17th, 2025)

"WHY IS SPACE BLACK??"

[jennelikejennay]

Passive voice and verbal nouns in Vulcan

I had a question come in the other day and I keep thinking about it, because honestly this is one of the biggest mysteries/pains in the ass about Vulcan. If you want to say that something has been found, for instance, or you want to talk about your findings (that which has been found), the information we have on this is very unclear.

Hold onto your sehlat claw pens, this is gonna be another big 'un.

One thing we do know from the Vulcan grammar is the existence of noun-verb pairs. Every verb has a corresponding noun, we are told, and the formation of these is somewhat regular. Examples include gla-tor, to see, and glan, sight; aitlu, to want, and aitlun, desire; kitau, to write, and kitaya, writing. When the verb has a form ending in -tor, that ending is dropped and sometimes an n is added. When it ends in -au, it changes to -aya. The rest are a little irregular but keep the pattern more or less.

Now what the author of the text isn’t doing is defining what it means for these nouns to be related to these verbs. For the most part, we are seeing an abstract noun for the act of doing whatever the verb is about. So ashau, to love, becomes ashaya, love, the noun. It doesn’t mean a loved one, for instance, which is another way a verb can become a noun. And it’s not a gerund, which would be the act of loving.

We do have gerunds explained, as well as present participles, here. A gerund is when you turn a verb directly into a noun. For instance, Swimming is something I do on Fridays. I like eating cake.

From the grammar, it’s clear that the creator considers the nouns that go with the verbs to be different from the gerund forms. This is true in English as well. We have a noun sight as well as a gerund seeing. I assume the distinction here is that the former is more abstract, the concept of seeing rather than the immediate act of seeing.

Neither is quite the kind of verbal noun I was looking for the other day, where I wanted to talk about the thing that receives the action of the verb, in that case, that which has been won. For instance, in English we can say sight, meaning the faculty of being able to see, but we can also say sight, as in, something that you can or did see. I went around and saw the sights.

We have a few different ways to say that kind of thing in English. For instance, communication can mean the abstract idea of communicating, but it can also be the thing communicated, as in, I just received a communication from Command. Other times, we might use the gerund. I did the washing. I brought home my earnings. In fact, sometimes I think these -aya nouns are being used this way. For instance, khrasaya means both the act of ejaculation and the substance ejaculated. But you can see, by the fact I had to use that example, that it was a little hard to find one.

Passive verbs

The general idea I wanted to convey is specifically passive. For instance, we have a word for love, but the person who receives that love is called beloved. Something that is done is called a deed. We don’t have a regular way to do that as a noun, but we do have passive adjectives (participles). A broken toy. A beaten egg. A swept floor. A scrambled egg. In English, we don’t generally get to use these adjectives as nouns, though many other languages do. (That’s called a substantive: an adjective used as a noun.) We can’t say “I have a big pile of brokens here.”

To get to passive participles, and thus adjectives or nouns, we’ll need to first understand how Vulcan forms the passive voice. We don’t have a word-of-God explanation for how to make passives or passive participles in the VLI lessons. There was one planned, but it has said “coming soon” for like a decade. So the only way to find out how to make these forms is to dive into the dictionary and find related word pairs.

fai-tor: to know   ~  pufai-tor: known

datau: propel     ~  pudatau: to be propelled

beglanau: to notice    ~  pubeglanau: to be noticed; being perceived or observed

ulidau: to mark   ~   pu'ulidau: to be marked

There are quite a few of these, which suggests to me that the creator fully intended pu- to be the marker of the passive voice.

They’re not always translated the same. Some are translated with a participle, just “known.” And others are translated with a passive verb, such as “to be propelled.” But given the verbs keep their exact verb form intact, I would say that they are passive verbs, not passive participles. So, pufai-tor nash-veh would mean I am known, and you can make all the tense changes just as you would with the regular noun. I don’t think they’re meant to function as adjectives, because the VLD pretty consistently has adjectives end with -k (or just a hyphen when it’s the combining form). You couldn’t just use a verb form as an adjective.

Some of the translations include words like “past simple” or “past tense” but I’m, uh…not entirely sure the author knows what those words mean. That, or (as I suspect sometimes happens in the VLD) they grabbed the dictionary definition of “held” or “fried” and didn’t think to distinguish the past tense meaning of those words and the passive voice meaning of those words. After all, as English speakers, we don’t often think of the difference; they usually look and sound the same. But the past tense in Vulcan is made with vesht, not with pu, so I really don’t think these are past tense words.

So what if I don’t want to be known, but simply known as an adjective? It’s a little clunky to say, instead of “the beloved mother,” “the mother who is loved” (ko-mekh vi pu’ashau).

You can make an adjective out of any verb, as a present active participle. That’s discussed in the same chapter as gerunds. Basically, you take the gerund form and add -ik. So loving is ashaunik, seeing is glayanik, and so on, in the sense of a loving mother, the all-seeing eye. But these are all active, meaning the action is being done by the word they modify. The one who is loving is the mother. We don’t yet have the beloved mother.

Could we take the pu- form and then put on the participle endings? ko-mekh pu'ashalik? Theoretically you could, but I have never seen this attested once, and we can do better than that.

-alik

Now a Vulcan scholar I’ve followed on a number of sites has theorized the missing form is -alik, at least for verbs ending in -au. Since the past of ashau is ashal, then to make that a past participle, you just slap on an -ik to make ashalik. But this bugs me because the relationship between past and passive (that the forms are often the same, and that participles that are passive are also considered past tense) is really just an English thing. The actual beloved mother is beloved both in the past and now!

The whole justification that they wrote out for it is in a private group, but I’ll bring out a couple of attested verb/adjective pairs they used to come up with it.

is-tor: to use   ~  isalik: used

thanai: to adopt  ~ thanayalik: adopted

stau: to kill    ~   stalik: killed

Another clue is in kugau: to commit  ~ kugalsu: betrothed, fiancé. Given they are betrothed as children, that strikes me as passive. Assume kugalik, committed. Drop the -ik, as you do when combining adjectives with nouns, and slap on -su, meaning a person, and bam. Person-who-has-been-committed. You could do this with any of the adjectives we're throwing around.

These examples show that it also works with non-au verbs, basically making -l- the marker of a passive, rather than an active, participle. In many cases, the active and passive participle will be identical except for this one letter: glayanik, seeing, glayalik, seen.

Honestly, this is fine. I can use this, and have. Though it gets a little clunky at times, as in "never and always touching and touched," worla eh kwon-sum estuhlanik heh estuhlalik.

But! There are other possibilities, if what we’re doing is digging through the dictionary looking for pairs of related words.

-k, -auk

There’s the simple -k ending. Unfortunately I haven’t been able to find out if this ever attaches to non-au verbs because while I can search the dictionary for -auk, I can’t really search for just -k. Anyway it definitely does happen with -au verbs.

wuvau: to elongate    ~  wuvauk: elongated

abomesau: to invert   ~   abomasauk: inverted, inverse

torvau: to produce, construct   ~  torvauk: product

palikau: to begin   ~   palikauk: first

vashau: to destroy   ~ vashauk: destructive

There are dozens of these, some with more active definitions and some with more passive ones. Destructive suggests one is doing the destroying, whereas product is very clear that it’s the thing that’s produced. But given we do have a VLI-given active participle (the -nik forms) I would be perfectly happy to stick with using -auk for the passive participle. That only leaves us wondering how to attach that to a verb that doesn’t end in -au. I would probably try slapping a k on a verb stem ending in a vowel, and -uk if it ends in a consonant. But that’s perhaps more of a stretch.

-ai, -aik

I really favor -ai, though it’s not as well attested, for a past participle used as a noun. I just like it.

tor: to do   ~   torai: deed, action

kloshah: to behave   ~  kloshai: behavior

tenah: to blame  ~  tenai: blame (n)

dva-tor: to believe  ~   dvatai: doctrine

prah: to acquire   ~   prai: acquisition

mah-tor: to strike or hammer   ~  mahtai: seizure

Perhaps this was meant as the way to make words into passive participles if they have less regular endings, especially -ah. To make it an adjective, I assume you’d add -k, resulting in a word ending in -aik, which in fact describes tons of adjectives which might or might not be passive participles.

hesha: fold   ~  heshaik: pleated

kaula: to prevent from being included   ~  kaulaik: excepting

tor: do, act   ~   sahr-toraik: fast-acting

Miscellaneous other options

And here are some other pairs from which ideas can perhaps be extracted.

pinkau: to earn   ~  pinkaunu: earnings.   This one may be a direct translation, putting pinkau in the gerund form and then slapping the rare -u plural ending on it. But perhaps this same process can be done with other verbs.

sadakh: to eject   ~  sadakh-tukh: ejecta.   Here they’ve simply called it eject-stuff. Respect. It’s the stuff that is ejected. Why not.

And with fai-tor, to know, we have several derivatives:

fainu: something that is known. Just like pinkaunu from above!

fai-tukh: knowledge. Know-stuff.

pufai-tor: known, generally acknowledged. The passive voice from earlier.

To sum up!

Here are the ways I’ve found to make passive verbs, passive participles, and substantive passive participles (participles acting as nouns).

noun forms in -n and -aya, as in lesson 4. These nouns generally mean an abstract action, but at times they are also used to mean the result of that action. See khrasaya: ejaculate, substance containing sperm, and zhipenaya: abbreviation, the shortened form of a word or phrase.

pu- as a prefix directly on the verb. This is well-attested and I think it would have been included in the grammar if they’d gotten to that part. But I will interpret on my own that this is supposed to be a passive verb, not a participle. To be known, to be seen, etc.

-alik: This is not my idea, but I think it’s pretty sound. We have ashalik, beloved, and thanayalik, adopted. It may require a little fussing to make the ending stick to the verb, like how an i has changed to a y in thanai/thanayalik.

-auk: This is pretty well-attested on -au (strong) verbs. You simply add a k.

-ai and -aik: -ai is attested as an ending of a noun, roughly a substantive passive participle, in a few verbs with stems ending in -a or -ah and in one with a consonant ending. And -aik is very common for adjectives in the same circumstances.

-nu: this could be the gerund ending, plus -u. I’ve only seen it attested twice, however.

-tukh: This is very slapdash: [verb]-stuff. -tukh is a particle used for almost any substance, such as all the elements. But it works and shouldn’t be misunderstood. If you were dealing with a person, I would use -su instead of -tukh.

So, if you want to say beloved, here are some possibilities: ashaya, pu’ashau, ashalik/ashalsu, ashauk, ashai, ashaunu, ashau-tukh (or, for a person, ashausu). A sight, as in something you see, might be glan, pugla-tor, glayalik, glai/glatai, glanu, gla-tukh. Words ending in -k are adjectives, so you’d have to have a noun to go along with them.

As a Vulcan user, which should you actually pick? It's clear to me that the creator never had this entirely worked out. Either they intended there to be a variety of options, depending on the type of verb or the meaning, or they changed their mind several times. And I think that leaves us free to choose whatever sounds best or seems most elegant for the purpose.

Funny how a messy conlang is like a messy TV show: the more mess, the more work there is to do for the fan creator. It's in the empty spaces that we have the most to work with.

[sinsxo]

04. no answers.

navigation. profile. masterlist. 01. 02. 03.

synopsis. irregular routines, weird actions, and a confusing relationship. you couldn’t tell what this was. consideration? kindness? friendship? whatever it was, you weren’t used to it.

cw. emotional neglect, loneliness, complicated sibling dynamics, and intrusive behaviour. mentions/dialogues about self-worth, internal conflict, and emotional vulnerability.

wc. 1k words, not proofread.

“in my messy thoughts, i’m getting a little more blurry.” —half clear, dosii.

it wasn’t a regular thing. or at least, that’s what you kept telling yourself.

some days, you walked home alone. on other days, he just happened to be there. rin, packing up his gear near the school field. rin, buying a drink from the vending machine. rin, walking next to you without asking anything, saying nothing unless you said something first.

you didn’t acknowledge it. and neither did he.

but sometimes, when the silence between you both stretched too long, you’d catch yourself glancing over. just a second. not enough to mean anything.

on wednesday, he gave you another pack of yoghurt gummies.

“what is this, a charity case?” you asked, frowning as he dropped it into your hand like it was nothing.

“you paid for the first one,” he said simply, walking ahead.

“because i owed you.”

“just take it.”

you stared at the pack for a moment before stuffing it into your bag. you didn’t say thank you. he didn’t look like he was expecting one anyway.

on friday, you got a paper from a test back. 92%. not bad. not your best. but it wasn’t the grade that bothered you — it was coming home to your family already eating dinner, cheerful voices, plates half-empty. no one looked up when you walked in. no one asked how school was. no one looked at the paper you left on the counter before heading upstairs.

you studied in silence that night, the quiet pressing heavy against your back. no music, no white noise, nothing. just the chaotic thoughts making enough sound inside your head.

the next week, you caught rin sitting on the steps that lead to the field after school, alone, lacing up his sneakers after changing shoes. his duffel bag was slumped next to him, half-zipped. he didn’t look surprised to see you. you assumed that he had just finished training.

“you’re late,” he said.

“wasn’t aware i had a schedule.”

he didn’t respond, just finished tying his shoes and stood up. wordlessly, he adjusted the strap on his bag and started walking. you followed, even though neither of you said it out loud.

“you know,” you muttered as you passed the front gates, “this whole thing’s weird.”

“what is?”

“this,” you gestured vaguely between the two of you, “us. walking home. whatever this is.”

“you want me to stop?”

“i didn’t say that.”

he shrugged like it didn’t matter either way. but it did. a little.

it wasn’t friendship, not exactly. but it wasn’t indifference anymore either.

you weren’t used to this middle ground. to someone just existing beside you without needing anything, without questioning you, without prying. and maybe that’s why, when he walked you all the way to your house, you lingered.

“see you tomorrow,” he said, hands in his pockets.

you hesitated before answering, “…yeah. tomorrow.”

he nodded and turned to go. you headed inside and shut the door behind you, still chewing on the silence rin left behind.

you didn’t understand him, not really. but you didn’t hate being around him either. he never asked too much. didn’t demand anything from you. and he didn’t seem to expect some carefully crafted version of yourself in return. with him, you never had to smile when you didn’t feel like it. and no matter how sharp your words got, he never stepped back — only stayed, no questions asked.

you doubted yourself. is this… friendship? were you friends? or was that just him being considerate and understanding? did he pity you?

your head started spinning. you didn’t even know what being friends was supposed to look like. no one had ever stuck around long enough for you to find out; you never let them.

you kicked off your shoes at the door and dragged yourself upstairs, still deep in thought, so much so that you didn’t even notice your bedroom door was slightly open.

until you walked in.

“what the hell are you doing?” you snapped.

your older brother looked up, crouched by your desk, holding one of your old certificates in his hand. others were spread out across your bed — a few of your recent test papers, a medal or two, the old badge from the middle school student council you never told anyone about.

“who was that guy earlier?” he asked, nodding towards the window in your room that faced the front of your house. “your boyfriend?”

“it’s none of your business.”

“so, just a friend then?”

you hesitated. you didn’t even have an answer for his question.

“doesn’t matter. why are you in my room?”

“relax,” he muttered, setting the paper down. “just curious.”

“you have no reason to be in here. and don’t touch my stuff.”

“the door was half open.”

“yeah, because i didn’t expect a break-in,” you muttered, moving past him to start gathering your things. “seriously. what’s your problem?”

he didn’t answer right away. just leaned his back against your table, watching you in that annoyingly quiet way of his.

“you’re not bad,” he said after a moment, nodding at the papers. “i didn’t know you were doing all this.”

you stopped, blinking.

“…okay? what’s that supposed to mean?”

he tilted his head, something unreadable in his expression. “just wondering if you’re doing it for you, or for them.”

you stared at him. it was another question you couldn’t answer.

“the hell are you trying to say?”

“like—” he gestured vaguely to your desk. “what’s the point of trying so hard when you know that you’re gonna end up miserable?”

you stiffened. “i’m not… miserable.”

he shrugged again, picking at a loose thread on his sleeve. “dunno. just seems like you’re doing all this without knowing what you’re aiming for.”

your mouth opened — then closed. “get out. you don’t know anything about me.”

he watched you for a moment longer, unreadable, then turned toward the door.

“anyway,” he said, too casually, “i was just looking. don’t lose sleep over it.” he stepped out, tossing over his shoulder, “and don’t stay up too late. eat your dinner.”

then the door clicked shut.

you didn’t say anything after that. just sat down on your bed, letting the silence settle back in, surrounded by papers and certificates and awards that suddenly felt heavier than usual.

acting like he cares… he doesn’t know anything. nothing at all.

taglist. @yuukiririix @rohfulike @bestboileeknow @mihyas-dieehefrau @lilahlil @bruisedchickensoup @vvs-mew @kuronarnze @mixolya @lovingmayday @saekisserfr @appl3-orchard @fiestvr @n0tbelle @scoosh4you @tartardisalmone @luvynii

back to. masterlist. proceed to. part 5.

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