#(( of course they vary depending on where you are but close enough ))

[electronickingdomfox]

Star Trek TOS slash bits (Season one)

This is my personal rundown of all the slash scenes in TOS season one. Actually, "slash" isn't an accurate descriptor, since slash was born after and because of Star Trek; but I didn't know how to call it otherwise. I've omitted episodes when I didn't find anything remarkable in them. And I've tried to be as objective as possible. Of course, this stuff depends a lot on the "eye of the beholder", so your mileage might vary.

-What I count: lingering touches or affectionate looks, clinginess, actions that show a strong concern/familiarity with each other, suggestive scenes...

-What I DON'T count: friendly gestures (like smiling or looking amused when someone says something funny), scenes taken out of context, physical proximity just because there's not enough space...

I'll try to illustrate some scenes when necessary, though screenshots usually don't do justice to it.

For season two, go here.

The Corbomite Maneuver:

Spirk: Kirk tells Spock his explanations give him "emotional security" with a loving look. Spock appears a bit embarrassed. Not counting the scene where Kirk makes a video call while shirtless (funny as it may seem out of context), since that scene has nothing to do with Spock himself. He's just calling the bridge, not Spock in particular.

McKirk: McCoy surely likes to cling to the Captain's chair a lot. He gets really close for a good chunk of the episode.

Should I count the scene where he hides a red alert in sickbay, so Kirk can keep sweating shirtless in his med bed? On the one hand, it may seem suggestive, but on the other, McCoy is just anxious about finishing his medical exam on the Captain.

Spones: McCoy tells Spock (with a somewhat hopeful look) that he'd love to teach him strip poker. Remarkable because there's no hint of sarcasm at all, and Spock answers with a mischievous smile.

The Enemy Within

Spirk: The scene where Spock enters the cabin and seems so agitated by the sight of shirtless, absurdly sensual Kirk.

Also a bit at the end, when Kirk thanks Spock on behalf of his two... halves. He has the Look in his eyes.

McKirk: McCoy is again pretty close and physical with Kirk (the good one). He stops agreeing with Spock's logical plan to merge the two halves, as soon as they discover that it may put Kirk's life in danger.

The true couple of this episode, however, is Good Kirk x Evil Kirk.

The Man Trap

McKirk: The way Kirk tells McCoy that he's not counting his errors, and how he smiles and approaches him to apologize, comes off rather flirtatious.

Also, though he's joking, Kirk can't help offering McCoy the most shitty bouquet of flowers ever, and calling him by his pet name "Plum" at the first opportunity.

The Naked Time

Spirk: "Jim, when I feel friendship for you, I'm ashamed". Also at the end, when Spock asks Kirk if he's okay, but Kirk asks Spock about his wellbeing instead, with a loving expression in his face.

Balance of Terror

McKirk: The scene where Kirk is lying in bed and he invites McCoy to enter, and then they stare at each other with such fondness. On top of that McCoy makes a heartfelt speech about the uniqueness of all lives, and begs Kirk not to sacrifice himself.

What Are Little Girls Made Of?

Spirk: This may be a stretch, but Chapel implies that she can recognize the real Corby by his voice alone, because she's in love with him. Later, Spock guesses there's something wrong with Kirk just hearing him (actually an imitation of his voice made by an android). Apart from this, Kirk's way of ensuring that his android copy is recognized as a fake, is implanting in him mean remarks about Spock.

Dagger of the Mind

McKirk: Again, McCoy has to be all over Kirk's chair whenever he's in the bridge.

Spirk: At the end, Kirk ponders about loneliness, but then he looks at Spock, smiles, and seems to get better. Spock kind of returns the smile.

Besides this, Spock's mind meld with Van Gelder is rather... well... intense.

Miri

Spirk: A brief moment, but when Spock says "Whatever happens, I can't go back to the ship, and I do want to go back to the ship, Captain", he and Kirk exchange knowing looks, and Spock even smiles a bit.

Spones: Spock is very tender with McCoy while he's unconscious, after testing the vaccine on himself. He holds his hands for a looooong time.

The Galileo Seven

McKirk: McCoy still seems unable to talk with Kirk at a normal distance in the bridge. Granted, he gets so close because he's gossiping about Spock's emotional reaction. But that makes it even more gay.

Spirk: "Mister Spock, you're a stubborn man." In context, he's just teasing Spock like everybody else on the bridge, but in Kirk's case, it seems more affectionate.

Court Martial

Spirk: It's normal that a First Officer would be loyal to his Captain, and testify in his favor when his career is at stake. But Spock's comparison of Kirk's inability to make a mistake, with a hammer's inability to overcome gravity, is way too much, isn't it? Specially for someone who pretends to be as logical as Spock.

The Menagerie

McSpirk McCoy refuses to believe Spock is the culprit, despite damning evidence against him. And he's barely able to arrest him, sending him to his quarters instead of the brig. Kirk is more firm in his duties as Captain, but still considers the court martial against Spock as the most difficult time in his career. At one point, he almost wishes his shuttle failed, so he didn't have to confront Spock.

This episode also shows how crazy Spock can become to protect those he loves and respects (in this case, Pike). Motherfucker just committed mutiny in the Captain's face!

Shore Leave

Spirk At the very start, Spock stands behind the Captain's chair, and Kirk complains about pain in his back. A yeoman, also behind him, starts giving Kirk a back massage. And Kirk seems to be enjoying it quite a lot... until he discovers it's not Spock doing it. Then he orders the yeoman to stop, annoyed. Also later, when the airplane is shooting at Kirk and Spock, the two of them embrace and grab each other a lot. It doesn't help that Kirk has, as usual, his tits out.

The Squire of Gothos

Spirk The best way for Trelane to ensure Kirk's cooperation is threatening Spock at gunpoint. This changes Kirk's attitude to him at once.

There's also something seductive (and masochistic) in Kirk's promise to Trelane to give him all the excitement he wants with a manhunt game.

Arena

Spones "Doctor, you're a sensualist" "You bet your pointed ears I am..." It's not just what he says, it's how he says it.

There's also a little detail, when Spock raises from the Captain's chair, and Bones purposefully follows his hand with his fingers. It's strange. Might be an unconscious action on DeForest's part?

The Alternative Factor

McKirk A similar example as the previous "sensualist" one, but this time with Kirk.

Tomorrow is Yesterday

McKirk He can't stop doing this, can he?

Besides this, McCoy gets very anxious as soon as Kirk beams down to the airforce base, and argues with Spock because he feels the Science Officer isn't doing enough to retrieve Kirk from there.

Spirk Kirk hits a guard and hurts his hand a little, so Spock goes toward him and checks the poor baby's wrist.

However, nothing in this episode compares to the truly lustful looks that Kirk directs to Captain Christopher, when he first meets him.

The Return of the Archons

Spirk At the end, Kirk keeps looking at Spock with silly heart eyes, even though the conversation is a philosophical one, about the pros and cons of a society run by computers.

A Taste of Armageddon

Spirk "Captain, you almost make me believe in luck." "Why, Mister Spock, you almost make me believe in miracles." Bonus points because it comes absolutely from nowhere, since the day was saved by Kirk's power of bluff and special brand of diplomacy. Spock hasn't done anything particularly miraculous (well, there's the mind meld with the wall, but that was a brief moment). Spock also looks confused, and there's that comedic music in the background.

Space Seed

The only thing I can think of, is the tense scene between Kahn and McCoy in sickbay, when he grabs the doctor by the neck and says he likes brave men. Followed by McCoy's statement that Kahn has a certain "magnetism, almost electric". The final confrontation between Kirk and Kahn is also a bit suggestive at times.

This Side of Paradise

Spones MCCOY: That didn't sound at all like Spock, Jim. KIRK: No. I thought you said you might like him if he mellowed a little. MCCOY: I didn't say that. KIRK: You said that. MCCOY: Not exactly. He might be in trouble.

Notice how quick Bones denies having said he might like Spock... Almost as if embarrassed. Does he think often about how Spock could be more to his liking?

Spirk It's possible to see some jealousy from Kirk about Spock and Leila's relationship. In particular during the fight, when he confronts Spock about his courtship of Leila. That came a bit out of nowhere. On the other hand, I disagree with the common idea that his parting from Leila has spirk undertones. On the contrary, he's just talking about his responsibility to the ship and "that man on the bridge" (the Captain; first Pike, now Kirk). And I think there's genuine regret in his abandonment of the simple happiness in the colony, to take care of these responsibilities. His mention of "purgatory" reinforces that.

The Devil in the Dark

Spirk Spock is very protective of Kirk in this episode. First, he invents some bullshit excuse to stay in the cave with him, instead of helping Scotty with the reactor (Kirk sees through his bullshit, by the way). Then he's quite unwilling to proceed separately through the tunnels. And finally, he gets really emotional when Kirk's alone with the horta, and asks him to kill the creature, even though Spock was the one who wanted to protect her first. Apart from this, Kirk supports Spock for a while, after being hurt by the mind meld with the horta.

Errand of Mercy

One name: Kor. Interesting that the episode that introduced Klingons, did so by showing their commander lusting so much after Kirk. Kor checks Kirk out almost from the second he lays eyes upon him, tells him he'll "teach him how to use his tongue", invites him to a drink while Kirk sits suggestively, and both are somehow fascinated by their similarities as commanders (despite their opposite outlooks on life). Definitely one of the most obvious examples in season one.

City on the Edge of Forever

Spirk This exchange:

SPOCK: Interesting. Where would you estimate we belong, Miss Keeler? EDITH: You? At his side, as if you've always been there and always will.

Some people have said that, since Spock's computer contraption occupies one bed, Kirk and Spock would need to sleep together on the other bed. I don't agree though; I see no reason why they couldn't move the thing to the floor at night. It's not that big.

McSpirk How they run to embrace Bones when they finally find him. Even Spock is overcome by emotion.

Operation: Annihillate!

McSpirk Both Kirk and McCoy are very concerned about Spock having lost his sight (much more than Spock himself). Though they react differently. McCoy is heartbroken and blames himself. Kirk reacts with anger and lashes out at Bones, which makes him feel even more guilty. Though later he apologizes. There's also this scene where the three get ridiculously pressed together.

Doesn't count in part, because there's not that much space. McCoy didn't need to come bumping into the other two, though (someone could have moved a bit forward).

Spones McCoy is offended about Spock not appreciating his face upon recovering sight, and complains that he just can't recognize beauty. He's also quite embarrassed because Spock heard him saying he was the best officer in Starfleet.

Summary

Spirk: 16 out of 29 episodes Spones: 5/29 McKirk: 8/29 McSpirk: 3/29

[takes1]

p.3 himbo!kirishima x petite!reader (gymbros series: rest day)

featuring aged up!kiri with growth spurt and long hair. i've actually had this in the drafts for a couple years, it's just that i didn't write an exposition and got straight to the point lmao. next part is on the way

warnings. nsfw, nearly f! oral, grinding, biting, mentions of mathematics

details. nsfw / gymbros with benefits/ aged up!kiri / fem!reader / mentions of f! masturbation / almost facesitting / mutual size kink / shy reader / support course student!reader / scars thirst / sharp teeth thirst / bakugou doesn't knock / 4.5k words

🤍 scenario series. part one / part two / kiri headcanons

more links. my ao3

The next few workouts grew increasingly more distracting and less efficient. Kirishima made it a point to talk more, get closer to you when not always necessary, and encourage you in ways he wouldn't use with other people who came to join.

You had moved to working out with varying amounts of Hero Course students that he introduced as his friends, too, all eager to meet you, in the Hero-specific gym.

This night wasn't the first time you visited his dorm room. The first was about five days prior when he invited you up to take a shower in his room.

Nothing 'happened,' but the whole experience was enough to fuel your fantasies for a few nights and make it evident that he wanted you, very badly and under any tangible excuse, in his bedroom.

It was Thursday night, and you had next to nothing else to do, so when he called, you picked up after a few rings and a deep breath.

(Y/n)!

He sounded so happy to say your name.

"Eijiro!" You smiled, not quite as excitable, but you did your best.

You busy tonight?

He laughed just off of the microphone, and you heard some other voices. He told one of them to shush, and another to go away. Your brow furrowed. It was one thing if he wanted you to come over, but another if you were hanging out with his friends.

Hello?

"Depends," You trailed, fingers fidgeting with your pajamas.

Iiiii was just wonderin' if you'd come hang for a while. No workout or anything.

His voice was a little sing-songy. It was extremely cute. While you were trying to rub the smile off of your face, he continued.

Just us.

"Yea-h," You answered, breathless.

It took a while to get ready to your liking after he let you off the phone. Thankfully, you showered earlier, so in the time it took to get dressed and out the door, he called again to ask if he needed to come get you.

You told him that wouldn't be necessary, as flattering as it was, and it took another minute to get him to hang up.

The Support Course housing wasn't too far away from his, you knew the way, and it was certainly not a dangerous walk, but when you turned the only corner of the walk, a familiar heavy-footed redhead was there to take you the remainder of the way.

"I should've walked with you the whole way!" He insisted when you told him his chivalry was appreciated, but not needed.

Surely he had safety as a primary concern. His Hero-centered brain was certain something might happen on the ten-minute walk over.

It was an animated walk to the dorms with this chatterbox next to you, but nothing compared to the chaos inside. Most students were gathered in the common area, loud and boisterous, all confirming your anxieties.

Kirishima picked up on this and kept a hand on your shoulder as you both passed, mostly unnoticed, through the busiest area near the entryway.

When the door closed, and the moment of relief was gone, you were a bit unsure of yourself. His company in public, or the gym, was one thing, but completely alone, behind a door?

You texted a friend where you were just in case.

But upon further inspection, he had prepared a silly movie and some snacks for you. His beanbag was what you were most excited about, but you kept it cool and only sat down at the soonest opportunity it could look natural. He took a seat on a small mat next to it and leaned on the bag. He was too big to share it with you but still wanted to be close.

The movie was menial compared to how much you both talked through it.

You got on the topic of perception and types, attractiveness, and the like. He had a difficult time understanding how you found him pretty and manly.

"What?" He laughed; he'd never been called that before. He liked it, but prompted you to explain.

He twisted his body to meet yours, already close on the floor right next to you.

"Well, you know-- you know," You tried to express, hand darting back to your side after leaving its resting place on his massive shoulder.

It was so much harder to compliment him when he wouldn't just take it. You sunk lower into the beanbag.

Part of him knew, you could hear it in the clip at the end of his sentences, a subtle request for you to keep making a fool of yourself.

"I don't think I do," He nabbed one of your wrists, his smile spreading when he found a similar one on your face and placed it back on his shoulder.

His eyes were eating you up, the inside of his own cheek offered as tribute in order to satiate his nerves.

"Well," You pushed a curious thumb into his ample flesh and tried to control a quick sigh, "You're... attractive."

"Attractive?" Kirishima repeated, amused and intrigued by your slow admission.

Quicker, a little panicked, you tried to rationalize it out loud, "Yeah, my friends think you are-- you're conventionally attractive, like it's not a secret or anything, everyone thinks you're hot."

An unsure hand slid, pressing here and there, over his squishy, thick bicep. You could barely fit your fingers all the way around it. There were an array of stretch marks, dark to light, all over his arms, chest, and on his tummy.

Maybe mentioning your friends was a wrong move, because now it sounded like you had gushed about him and showed pictures of him-- something you totally did do, but he didn't need to know that.

In your quick explanation, you couldn't keep quiet because you didn't want to hear his reply yet, so you just kept going, "A tall guy with huge muscles, and-- a big smile, with good hugs, who's really sweet, and considerate, and is open-minded and asks questions. I mean, who wouldn't like you?"

You had to suck in a breath, and in doing so, realized everything you said just as he did.

"Well, you make a pretty solid case," He laughed. He was blushing-- blushing, and had to look away from you.

This wasn't your first rodeo with a big guy, but it was certainly the most exciting. There was something about his soft, silly demeanor that held a chokehold on your heart.

He stood up and offered a hand to take you with him. But he pulled a tad too hard and you stumbled against him. He smiled, bashful still.

"What-uh, what else do you like?"

Your head was spinning. Maybe he wasn't so confident? Was that it? You were usually the one to break eye contact, but your clumsy, stupid words seemed to unlock the key to a shy side.

"U-hm," Eyes and fingers flitted up to his chest, then his broad shoulders, "I like... how strong you are."

Big hands squeezed around your waist, setting off a flurry of butterflies, and kept you plastered across his front, instead of your attempted distance.

"'Shouldn't tell me that," He muttered, fingers locked around each other on the curve of your spine.

You wanted to feel everything while you could-- you directed your touch to the back of his neck, and reached up as far as you could go with a face of focused concentration. Your voice was quiet, far away.

"Why not? It's true."

The grip pulling on you shifted and in seconds, he muscled you up by the ass to sit on his hips-- your thighs squeezed him but didn't need to when his grip was forcing you so hard against his cock.

He made a toothy grin at your shifting around, frantic grabbing, and looking down at the distant floor, "Gotta stay humble, man."

"Shut up," You couldn't look at his blacked-out pupils, so you opted for his mouth instead.

There were little scars all over his bottom lip, and when you started to glance around his handsome face, you realized there were many more.

You adjusted your hands around the back of his neck and, in the process of studying him, found a bigger one.

"Your eye," You took a thumb to his brow, concerned despite his small chuckle.

He closed his eyes to let you check out the shape, and you noticed he had a crooked nose. It looked like he'd broken it a few times, actually.

"That's from forever ago-- just my own shitty Quirk--,"

"Your Quirk isn't shitty." You stated, surprised a Hero Course student would bash on their own Quirk so casually.

His Quirk was, honestly, pretty cool. You wished you could do half of the things he could, and you were sure countless other students in his class felt the same way.

You rolled your hips up to lock your legs, "I like your Quirk."

He was so hot and firm, it was distracting-- you immediately needed to know if it would fit. A breathy laugh pushed past his lips and he looked down, away from you, with an identical thought.

Your lips were barely an inch apart when he looked back up, conflicted and bothered in many ways.

"I really like when you do that," He muttered, focused entirely on your glossy bottom lip.

You did a lot of things but boiled it down to either the grinding or the compliment.

"I...really like you, too--"

For some reason, his trailing off sounded like he was about to say 'but,' which didn't make any sense. You started to frown. You thought all the feelings were pretty uncomplicated, here.

"--But I wanted to take you to dinner, first."

A smile that was so big it hurt stretched across your face. That was the cutest, hottest thing you ever heard.

Your palm flattened against the side of his head and he followed your gentle lead, like a puppy on a leash, just happy to be there. Happy to please.

You considered it, only because he looked genuinely apologetic.

But he adjusted you a little on his hips, and his fingers were edging onto your bare skin, and you lost your train of thought.

"We can worry about dinner tomorrow,"  A mumbled solution was quickly swallowed by his hungry mouth-- you quickly learned that he was a messy kisser, but didn't have the energy to care.

Strawberry lipgloss smeared to oblivion, he left you breathless and pained when he pulled away to sit down and enjoy your flawless neck.

His lengthy time there, hands clawing the plush of your ass, forced you to sit still and pretty on top of his confined cock.

You pushed your forehead onto his oversized shoulder, panting already at the restraint and realization that you'd have to go out in public with huge splotches of purple and green all over your neck.

He sunk his teeth into you and closed his jaw, leaving deep, puffy lines in your skin-- you squirmed away with a shaky sound, but were only met with a forearm barring you in by the lower back.

"If you don't like it rough, you can always tell me to stop," He reminded you, playful and a little condescending.

If he was going to be filthy, you wanted to return the energy.

"Mm-mm," While he was more maneuverable, you took the opportunity to press another deep, needy kiss on his big, scarred lips, "Put those teeth to good use."

Kirishima almost shied away from your sugar-sweet tone, your sudden confidence in the face of words that he had to craft very carefully. His saving grace was your subtle confirmation.

"I knew you had a thing for my teeth," He stole a few more giggly kisses and was sure to carefully take your bottom lip.

It was technically a lie-- he didn't come up with that theory on his own. Sero had to bring it up with him after he noticed your fixation.

"I've got a thing for you," You admitted.

Your hands explored his broad back, trying to fight your squirming as he switched sides and started high on the other side of your neck. His excited chuckles buzzing against your heated skin were not making it easy.

His long hair kept getting in your face. Instead of blowing the locks away, you tracked your fingers up through the back and tugged it away, but it elicited an almost automatic motion in his hips, up into you.

You laughed at his failed grab up at your fist and, with the same mocking tone he used with you, chirped, "If you don't like it rough..."

"God, you're funny too--," Kirishima sighed and pulled your shirt over your head before you could object.

"Oh."

He must not have realized your common choice to go braless beforehand, because your blank torso left a funny, flushed look on his face.

It was hard to tell, though, and your immediate understanding of his surprise demanded an apology and crossed arms with an uncomfortable chuckle, "Sorry-- I think you've got me beat in cup size."

"No-nono, they're great, fantastic, amazing," He pulled on your arms and explained so quick you had to read his lips to understand him, "I didn't mean to- I'm just-- happy I don't have to struggle with a clip."

You had to wonder how many girls he'd been with, what his expectations were, because he clearly had some experience.

As he hoisted you up, light as a feather to him, to put you on your back, you wondered if he was good. If he'd be patient with the best and worst parts.

The mattress groaned beneath his weight as he wasted no time to shift over your pretty, raised chest. When he put a fraction of his body on you, you almost gave the same reaction.

His lips and tongue on your sensitive bud almost convinced you to not ask, but your body was screaming for him to get off.

"How much do you weigh?"

You raked your fingernails through his scalp with a labored inhale and felt him smile.

"290[131 kg], around there." He kissed the bitemark he left on your breastbone and switched sides.

Half of the time, you couldn't fathom how massive he was in comparison to you, so you didn't try. But now, with practically nothing else to do than compare, it was mindblowing.

If he wasn't careful, he might risk seriously injuring you. Rough, for his size and strength, might actually be dangerous. You cringed at how unsexy it sounded to suffer a torn muscle or a broken bone because you didn't know each other's limits.

"Still not where I want to be," His canine almost clipped you as he spoke, forcing you to flinch, "Trying to get to 300."

Your thighs squeezed around his torso, shamefully turned on by the risk. He made a grumbly, understanding groan on your breast with a dose of intense eye contact.

"You like big guys, huh?"

You huffed and pushed on his enormous shoulders, "Obviously."

Another kiss to the center of your chest gave way to lower and lower toothy, ruttish kisses. He loved the way you fueled his ego by acknowledging his size.

"Can I--," You sighed, not wanting to be picky, but concerned for your pussy with his combined leverage and clumsy habits in this position, "Can I sit on your face--?"

"Yes."

That was a lot easier than you anticipated. He quickly wrapped his arms around you, determined to not let you move without his manual aid, and fell onto his back.

He was very pretty under you.

Hair splayed out, at least before he started to tie it up, his impressive body all exposed for you to admire and touch, his eyes glued to only you.

You didn't want to part from the print in his sweatpants, perfectly content grinding on it instead, but he hooked his hands beneath your thighs and pulled you up.

As disappointed as you were to part, you knew you needed this so it'd fit easier.

It took a moment to find the tiny zipper of your skirt, but when you did, Kirishima moved your hands away and did it himself, grinning at your cute frown.

"You gotta get used to me doing things for you, baby," He dropped them off of the side of the bed.

"Baby?"  You repeated to yourself, more focused on the name and insinuation that he wanted to do this regularly than his head between your thighs.

He brought you out of your spinning head with a long, slow kiss to your thigh, longer and slower than he originally intended, because now he wanted to mark all of you up.

Another bite reminded you--

"Be careful with your teeth- please."

The chewing on your other leg paused, and he chuckled against it, "Of course."

A slow, gentle kiss through your thin, soaked undies, "I'm real careful when I wanna be."

Your posture struggled to stay up already. You took a fistful of his hair and screwed up his ponytail as his arms held you down, fingers hooked into the fabric.

The sharp, invasive noise of a door opening and a familiar, scratchy voice shot your body with a stiffness you had never felt before.

"Hey Dumbass, let's get this over with already, I wanna--,"

Two pairs of red eyes widened at the same exact time as you caught your breath to scream bloody murder.

Kirishima pushed you into the mattress with a Hero-like quickness, shushing your shrill curses and smothering your body with his comforter and own body.

It was far too late. Bakugou was standing stock-still at the open door, hand struggling to find it again in order to close it, while he stared open-mouthed and beet red at his buddy.

Despite you yelling at him to get out, fuck off, get lost, and the like, he only listened to Kirishima when he was told to, 'Wait outside the door for a sec, man.'

"It's okay, it's okay, it's okay," He leaned over you, breathing hard and on the verge of tears, "It's okay, you're okay--,"

"It's not!! It's not! You didn't lock the door?!"

"The dorms here don't have locks," He explained, way too calm for your liking.

You repeated, 'Don't have locks,' until you could find another thing to focus on.

"He saw me," You got worked up again, sniffling, "He--,"

"Awww, nonono," Kirishima lifted you up into a strong hug and kissed the side of your head, "I promise he doesn't care, baby. He's not that kinda guy."

It was too much, you were just with him in the gym and now he saw you, completely nude, sitting on his best friend's face. You wanted to leave immediately.

"I'm gonna talk to him, okay?"

He tried to let you go, but you stayed latched on, making him laugh. He grabbed a stray shirt from his bedframe and smelled it, then offered it as a replacement.

You first wiped the tears off of your face with it, hasty and angry, then mumbled as he stood back up, "Beat him up or something."

"I'll try," He joked and gave your leg a little rub before leaving to meet Bakugou in the hall.

His absence was sobering.

The very first thing you did was shimmy yourself into his gigantic t-shirt, with an obnoxiously long inhale through the dark grey cotton. His scent was like a shot of morphine.

Then, you sat very still, his collar over your nose, comforter still confining you like a caterpillar, to listen to the sounds of hushed voices right outside the door.

Why the hell didn't you knock--?

Don't get pissy at me! You're not supposed to have chicks in your room!

Bro, you KNEW how I felt and you KNEW she was over.

And YOU knew that Stats assignment was due at six. YOU asked ME to come over at 5.

It wasn't quite Kirishima throwing punches, but he did sound upset for you. You linked your fingers together and stared at the door.

I thought I made it pretty clear what I'd be doing for the next few hours, man.

No, No, No, and you still haven't. Looks like you beat the shit out of her! What the hell is on her neck?!

Dude, come on, you've never seen a hickey? Oh, waaait--

Don't.

There was a moment of tense quiet, and you were still holding out hope for Kirishima to kick his loud friend's ass, but it never came.

Let's just hurry this up.

The doorknob twisted then returned without opening. You pulled the shirt back down where it was supposed to go. More heated words, then Kirishima reappeared with an initial look that could kill. It was replaced with a polite, mom-pleasing smile at you.

"Hi," He waved, then glanced behind the door, "I hate to ask, but--"

"Move." Bakugou reappeared and didn't even spare a glance in your direction.

Despite Kirishima's warnings, went straight to the desk and sat a bag down, his permanent grumpy face no indicator of what he was thinking or what he felt.

Instead of joining him, Kirishima sat on the mattress next to you, found your skirt in the process, and pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead.

"Like I said, he doesn't care," He rolled his eyes back to Bakugou, then sighed at how adorable you looked in his bed and the blunt pain in his pants.

His hand rested on the side of your face, the pad of his thumb dusting over your puffy bottom lip. He leaned in to kiss you.

"Oh my god, let's go," Bakugou clicked on the online assignment.

"Would you chill the fuck out?" Kirishima spat, his face dropped to one of bitter annoyance.

Red flag or not, you couldn't tell through your rose-colored glasses. You liked how upset he got over not spending alone time with you right now.

Even Bakugou, who knew him a lot better, a lot longer, than you, looked surprised to hear that tone leave his mouth.

Ever trifling, he shook it off and reminded him as he walked over, "Coulda done this shit two weeks ago."

As they shared more passive-aggressive words, you realized all you could do was sit there and stare at a wall. Your phone was on the desk next to Bakugou's hip, so there was no quality distraction for you.

You started counting the stripes on your skirt, then pleats, then stitches.

That got boring, so you started trying to look at what was on the shirt he gave you. Some old red guy.

He had the same old Hero on a few posters in his room. Crimson Riot-- you realized he must've modeled his whole Hero theme from him. The name and vibe were pretty similar.

He had a lot of pillows. Your understanding was that guys usually had two, or just one. But he had seven on his bed. Maybe he had sleeping problems? Or maybe he just liked pillows. Hopefully not like that.

You wondered why he kept someone like Bakugou around as a best friend. You were still pissed off at him, so it was hard not to stare, but you could get away with steeping in your frustration a while longer.

Not only was their Class better-known throughout the school for being really stupid and really great, but Bakugou was the acme of stupid and great, so every rumor and preconception you had was confirmed, so far, with his behavior. Just as much of an asshole as everyone says.

But it must've meant something that Kirishima liked him. Either Kirishima was meaner than he was letting on, or Bakugou was nicer. You hoped it was the latter.

They were stuck on a problem, and while Kirishima didn't seem to care so much, Bakugou was losing it over his own answer being wrong.

Apparently, their assignments had slightly different questions. Modeled the same, but with different values. And Bakugou couldn't figure this one out.

You got tired of hearing him repeat himself, how he had to be right, how the person who made this version of the assignment put something in wrong.

Although you had different teachers for Statistics, the material couldn't have been entirely dissimilar. You stood and realized you didn't even need the skirt-- his shirt was like a sundress.

"I didn't think Hero Course students took normal subjects," You tiptoed over to the desk, on the opposite side as Bakugou, and kept your eyes fixated on the problem on the screen.

Maybe if Kirishima wasn't distracting you, you weren't distracting him.

You mumbled under your breath, "Events which occur randomly... rate r counted over... period of length s so... event count X is Poisson...Find P of X is 2, X is... okay, ummmm," You tucked your lip between your teeth and stole the paper from Bakugou's side to record all of the given elements of the question.

He rolled his eyes and crossed his arms as you started explaining in much clearer detail what they all stood for, why it seemed like a bunch of mumbo-jumbo, and answered his sometimes mind-bogglingly stupid questions with enviable patience.

It was starting to become obvious that Kirishima was not perfect. He even struggled with basic math.

One could argue that based on the number of times you caught him looking at the hem of his shirt on your thigh, it was safe to assume that maybe he had something else on his mind, too.

"Sooo, that would mean...?"

Kirishima leaned forward, two strong forearms on either side of you, to type his answer into the box.

Your tummy was doing flips as he rolled his chair closer, face pressed into your waist.

A little green checkmark appeared. He pulled you in by the opposite hip and kissed your side while Bakugou snatched up the work you helped Kirishima do.

"You're such a good teacher," Was mumbled low and smiley into the softness of your waist-- you cringed away, but once again, he held you still.

Bakugou didn't acknowledge it. But he didn't shoo you away or make any comments when Kirishima tugged you into his lap.

First, you shoved his shirt down so there wasn't a repeat of last time, and then, you tried to keep your pitiful protests to yourself once he started bouncing his leg up and down.

He pressed you to the edge of the desk so he could still write and type while Bakugou basically just told him what to do.

After that question, there weren't any more mistakes that needed fixing.

Which was fortunate considering that you would be incapable of forming a cohesive sentence. The constant force of his thigh was absolute heaven against your neglected pussy.

You kept face until Bakugou began to gather his things to leave. When he turned to place a textbook in his bag, Kirishima snaked an arm around your waist and started to add to the marks he left on your neck earlier.

Your thighs squeezed and you clawed at his knee and his wrist. He bit your ear in return and shoved his face into your hair.

The blond slung his bag over his shoulder.

Kirishima briefly came back to the real world with a quick dap-up and, "Take care, dude. See ya tomorrow."

"Yeah," Bakugou glanced at you, then back at his buddy, "Be safe."

taglist:

@dough-yo-bu @yellowflowerbub @fairywriter-oracle @kirismoon

@kwiwin @cringingmemeries @leo6472 @nijha2tact

[soda-sparkss]

HOME-BOUND

Its me again, hi <3 I've made yet another Welcome Home Au called Home- Bound where You're on a Train to Escape Your Mundane Life. Every friendly neighbor has their own cart on the train, with Julie's being the first one you're seated at and Wally's being the conductor car. Make your way through this whimsical little train ride that seems to last for Eternity! Where are you headed? Who knows! Trying to Escape the train once you're on will result in a proper Punishment. If you get off before the train Stops, there will be no moving from the spot that you landed on. Any physical or emotional violence caused to the train will result in consequences varying in severity depending on how much damage you've done. Please do Remember that the train is your Home the train is your Home the train is your Home the train is your Home the train is your H Oh, and one more thing! Don't Forget Your Ticket.

Cars are in order starting from the back. Sleeping/Boarding Car Jullie's Car Poppy's Car Sally's Car Howdy's Car Frank's Car Eddie's Car Barnaby's Car Wally's Car/Conductor Car

First off, We have our Humble Conductor, Wally Darling!

Being at the front of the Train, Wally has many responsibilities as a Conductor. Once you board the Train, he will come back to the Boarding Car to punch your Ticket. It is Imperative that you have it, lest you be sent right back to the station!

Second up is Barnaby B Beagle! Wally's very very very close "Friend".

In this lovely dog's car, he can be found cracking so many fun jokes! Heck, he has an entire book full of Comedy skits from passengers who were Fortunate enough to make it up to his car all the way from the Boarding car! Though, if you want to leave, you'll have to give him another skit to add to his book!

Next up is the darling Mailman, Eddie Dear!

This dearest mailman send out all the letters and Tickets to future Residents of the Home Bound Express. He's quite the workaholic, especially during the nighttime hours! If you happen to make it to his car, be in for a load of sorting letters, snacks, and lovely stories about all of his travels on the Train! Poor guy is a afraid of snails too..

Next up is the trains Librarian, Frank Frankly!

If you enter his car, you'll be greeted with books up the Wazoo! He will insist you look at any one that interests you. The books are written by him and consist an encyclopedia of facts about every existing bug on the planet. Not one bug left out! Unfortunately, if you want to leave, you'll have to take a quiz. Find a book about a specific bug he tells you about, read through it, and then tell him what you learned. Careful not to let the bookflies(book butterflies!) distract you! After you tell Frank the facts you learned, you have to navigate your way through a maze in the garden behind his library. Don't worry, the bugs will guide you!

Next up is the 'local' Grocer, Howdy Pillar!

Who can resist a Pillar who advertises his wares so well? He has everything from the little doodads to wild thingamajigs! Careful you don't get lost in the maze of his stock. If you want to leave, however, you must buy something or solve a little riddle of his!

Next up is the ONE AND ONLY!! Sally Starlet!

This Star is always putting on a Show!(With sleep and snack breaks, of course.) Her seemingly endless act will have you wrapped up in a world completely different from your own! Her whips and twirls will thread a story right before your very eyes! It's Almost Impossible to Look Away!! Also, nighttime shows are provided for people with insomnia, headphones are provided for those with sensory issues, plushies and hand santizer are provided for people with anxieties or obsessive compulsions.

And following right behind her is Poppy Partridge!

Who doesn't want an absolute sweetheart to take them under her wing and provide a comfortable place to Relax! Treats are baked for anyone who wants one! Beanbag chairs cots, futons, and a plethora of cushions are provided, as well as DvD players and a TV for Entertainment. Careful, too many sweets from this lovely Partridge will send you into a Deep Sleep.

Then we have the lovely Julie Joyful!

Julie is so playful! If you step foot into her car, you're in for a whole day full of fun games like Tag, Tic Tac Toe, and Hide and Seek! Hide and Seek is her favorite game! Though I can't say the same for her victims Passengers.

And then the Train himself, Home!

While Home is the train, pictured above is his physical manifestation. If he doesn't have a cup of tea, he'll probably be smoking Candy Cloud, which is their form of tobacco.

And Last but not Least, You!

That's right, You! YOu reading this right now! Go ahead and put yourself in the au, draw yourself interacting with the neighbors! You can use this base, I'll post a blank version soon enough! A HUGE huge thank you to @mumimoondrops and @severalbonez for helping me with designs and the story! Mumi is a co-owner of the au. Notes and Disclaimers: Disclaimer: I do not own the characters in Welcome Home. They all belong to @partycoffin. And while two people have already made train conductor au's I wanted to make my own story and designs for the cast! Design Inspirations: @chez-cinnamon, @clownsuu Tags: @3amclothesmonster, @dottyorange, @doggwwoggy23, @kennethmoop, @snowshinefivez5, @larzuen, @nyx-mrbones-2360, @vixxproductions, @sedittedice, @mumimoondrops, @ari-jay, @strugglebugglemoth, @wheatlover, @unpleasantbread, @mockhound, @purplefoxy14, and @anonymous-paperbag

[yuurei20]

(This was originally an ask received through Twitter)

"Back in GloMas (on JP), I think I remember there being a lot of madness surrounding Idia being close to Yuu. I think it’s because he referred to them as ‘Yuu’ rather than ‘Yuu-shi’, but I still don’t quite get it??"

Yes! Honorifics as a whole have already discussed more in-depth here, but Idia does drop his honorific for the prefect once in Glorious Masquerade.

Quick overview for those who may not know: when you don’t use an honorific with someone (-chan / -kun / -sama / etc), this is called yobisute (呼び捨て), written with the kanji for “to call” and “to throw away,” and the word might just not exist in English. It means “to refer to someone without an honorific."

Twst uses honorifics (and yobisute) to track the evolving relationships between the characters.

Deuce, for example, has a line about how he used to yobisute his teachers (i.e. he refused to add “-sensei” to their names) in middle school. To compensate for his past rudeness, Deuce now refers to every single upperclassman by “lastname-senpai.”

There is even a cute scene during New Year’s where Deuce greets Jamil by calling him Viper-senpai, but after Jamil feeds him an egg salad sandwich he changes—just once—to Jamil-senpai.

Epel is another character whose use of honorifics is significant: Epel is under order from Vil to always use honorifics with everyone. During Book 5 we see him using “-kun” with Deuce, up until Deuce refuses to let Epel fight the bullies trying to steal their blastcycle.

Deuce says that he is the one who took Epel out of the school and so he will be taking responsibility for his actions, and we get Epel’s first “Deuce” yobisute.

Cater might be the character who weaponizes honorifics the most.

He seems to be using honorifics as an over-familiarity-buffer-zone, as he is actively trying to avoid becoming too close to those around him (re: “Cay-Cay doesn’t really do long-term friends or found family").

There is one exception to Cater’s rule of honorifics: Trey.

During Book 1 Cater refers to him as “Trey-kun” for the majority of the story, until Riddle’s overblot makes things serious enough for him to drop it and call him “Trey” (even during these scenes, however, he keeps his honorifics for others).

The novel even comments on this directly, saying, "Usually, Cater does not ever yobisute anyone. When he calls to Trey, he always adds ‘kun’ to his name. This is probably one of his skills as a good-natured person. When Cater uses Trey’s name like this, it is only when he is really serious. Only when it is important."

This is all to say that, depending upon the character, yobisute can be a huge deal. It isn’t a black-and-white rule, of course—it varies by each character and their personality.

Kalim, for example, refers to everyone with yobisute, possibly because his status back home meant that he was simply never taught to defer to anyone, and/or because he legitimately considers himself to be close, personal friends with everyone he meets.

Idia is one of those characters like Cater and Deuce for whom yobisute is a big deal. There is exactly one person he refers to without any form of honorific, and that person is Ortho. Much like how he uses his tablet to avoid talking to people face-to-face, he is possibly, intentionally keeping up an over-familiarity-wall like Cater. 

The English-language adaptation has translated his honorific of “-shi” as “Mr.,” but it’s actually gender-neutral, which may be why the English-language game’s continuity is so inconsistent, and why the moment of Idia referring to the prefect without an honorific did not make it to EN: while the honorific disappears and reappears in English, he actually uses it to refer to the prefect in Book 6, and it is otherwise in 100% of all of Idia’s dialogue in the original game.

With one exception: Glorious Masquerade.

This is why JP lost its collective mind when it happened (the fan-art is delightful, like this short comic of the characters pointing at Idia and chanting "yobisute"), because it was something Idia had never done before and has never done again, and it was with the prefect!

(This was revealed to be a proof-reading error that was corrected in the 2023 re-release, with "-shi" added to the prefect's name in Idia's dialogue.)

Yobisute is usually very significant in the game, like during Book 6 where Azul, who uses the “-san” honorific with literally everyone except Jade and Floyd, uses yobisute with Riddle when he is in danger, and when Riddle uses it with Leona just before his overblot in Book 2.

But for Idia and the prefect, it was just a proofreading error! :>

[the-merry-otter]

How To Make Medieval Fabric Buttons

You will need:

• fabric (I’m using a medium weight wool)

• a sewing needle

• cotton or silk thread (it MUST be strong)

• a thimble

• dressmakers pins

Using this style of button as a fastening technique was very prevalent in 14th century Europe, on both men’s and women’s clothing. It was used for anything from sleeves and openings on the front of garments, to the iconic liripipe hoods (which is what these are gonna be for!).

They were usually made out of leftover fabric from the same material that was used for the garment they were intended for. As well as using every scrap of material possible, they also save you from having to buy metal buttons, which… aren’t cheap (both now and then).

The trade off is of course having to make them, which can be a painful process (literally - try not to get stabbed by the hedgehog ball at step 4!!). I thoroughly recommend a thimble to push the needle through as you form the ball - this is hard enough without having to pull it through.

Making buttons in my experience is 10% knowledge, 60% spite, and 30% hatred. It is a contest of wills between you (who wants a button) and the fabric (who doesn’t want to be a button). I wish you luck soldier.

To start with, cut a circle out of your fabric. How big will depend on what fabric you use - if it’s linen, you’d cut a larger circle than you would for wool. Mine is about 30mm.

Using a long long thread, bind on and then sew running stitches around the outside, about 5mm from the edge (may vary with fabric).

Pull this thread tight like a pouch, and turn the raw edges inwards in one direction. Try and tuck them inside the “bag” section. It will likely be more of a squashed oval at this point than a sphere.

Now, get your dressmakers pins and go absolutely ham. Continue to squish it “inward” (towards where the opening was) as you pin. The button should now resemble a very unfriendly little creature now (good luck with not getting stabbed, it can be a bit of a prick).

Next, basically use your needle to try and get it to stay in that shape. I usually do a bunch of stitches around the edge of the “back” end, and then spend some time criss-crossing the back. Try and put your needle in close to where it came out, so that you don’t get long pieces of visible thread.

Once you are confident that it will hold A Shape ™ (but also isn’t so stabbed that you can’t refine it further!), remove the pins. Your button will most likely resemble a little tiny messy wool brain at this point, but that’s ok!

The next step is to use your needle and thread to continue tucking the ball inwards to the centre of where the opening was. Above illustrates how I’ll flip the open part of a fold inward, by coming up through the fold and then levering it downwards so it gets tucked away. You can also just use the thread to pull errant folds inwards. Use the hand holding the button to squash it into form, and then sew it into place.

Once the button is actually a ball shape, crisscross the back of it a bit so that everything is firmly held in place. It should now (all things going well!!) actually be a sphere.

Once you’re happy with the shape and firmness, take your thread to stem out of the centre back. Bind off, and then slide the needle off the thread, leaving the long end. This can then be used to sew the button onto the garment.

The back will still be somewhat messy, but the front should be smooth, and the whole shape roughly spherical. When the button is sewn on using the remainder of the thread, you won’t be able to see the back!

I wrap the remainder of the thread around the finished button so it won’t get tangled, and then pop it in a jar with the rest while it waits to be sewn onto the garment.

Good luck with your crafting! Feel free to ask any questions in the notes, or straight into my inbox :)

[meowufff]

Okay!

First of all: I am very sorry it took so long to finish this! It had been a lot more data than last time, so I had some trouble to visualize and edit it this time around. I really hope I made it work somehow so enjoy this lil conclusion thingy and feel free to add or mention anything that comes to your mind~

In this survey I have asked a total of 188 people multiple questions surrounding sleep habits, their consume of caffein and its influence on them and got an answer from 104 of these.

So let’s beginning with the average hours per sleep these people had.

Well, as we saw in the last survey I did, most people I have asked didn’t had a good sleep schedule. The average hours that a rottmnt tumblr artist out of 104 get is 6,48 hours per night.

I tried my best to categorize the hours into 1-3; 4-6; 6-7; 7-9; 10+ h/night. The most common one being 4-6 h/night and 7-9 h/night which is a little surprising remembering that only 18% of people of my last survey actually have a “good”-sleep schedule in hindsight that the recommended amount of sleep is 7-9 hours/night.

These numbers could be explained that for a lot of people the amount of hours they sleep depends on factors like if they´re having a stressful time at the moment or how much they did over the day so the numbers itself varied often from 3-8 hours. Of course, no one sleeps the exact amount of hours every single time so the range a lot people mentioned had been partly very big.

Now that we know how many hours most artist sleep per night, we should take a look at how many hours they consider enough to technically get through the day which is 4,94 hours.

Because the answered had been very specific for most parts I decided to categorize them into full 1 till 9+ hours and steps in between as 1-2; 2-3; 3-4; etc. hours, the most common ones being 4 and 5 hours. Which is kind of close to the average amount they get.

So some could take the wild guess that a lot of people are surviving on their minimum hours per night as daily basis.

For my next question I could have been more specific with what I meant. My thought behind that question had been, how many hours are a lot in consideration to a not-so-great sleep schedule. For example, a person who usually gets 5-6 hours of sleep could consider getting 7 or 8 hours as a lot.

Some didn’t answer that part which is understandable as the meaning isn’t that clear. I still got a lot of interesting answers! For example, the average “a lot of hours of sleep” value is 9,59 hours.

Now let’s get to the caffein!

Surprisingly to me, considering the small average hour per night, 53,85% do not consume any caffein over the day and only 39,42% have it included into their daily routine. The small amount of 6,73% of people use it only as last resort.

On the other hand, after reading all the effects caffein has on most of the people I asked I am not as surprised they´re not consuming it regularly.

Talking about the different effects of caffein on people please look at the following two pictures where I tried my best to visualize the different answers as good as possible.

In the first one you can see the descriptions how the people are feeling before consuming any caffein. The bigger the word the more often it had been mentioned.

In the second you will see the way they feel after consuming any kind of caffein.

It is pretty prominent that a majority doesn’t feel any different afterwords which could be an explanation why the amount of people drinking caffein is that “small”. But even if the second biggest word is the usual effect caffein has the one directly after that are words like tired, sluggish, jittery which are most definitely affects no one likes to experience.

A lot of the described feelings could be lined to stuff like ADHD or insomnia or anything else where caffein can show a paradox or even negative effect on someone. I have read that a lot of people still like to consume drinks with caffein in it but not because of the effect but more for the taste.

As someone who needs to drink either very strong coffee or energy to actually feel any effect of the caffein, I found it very interesting to see that people mentioned to enjoy drinking tea as little energy boost.

For me tea, or coke or any other caffeinated soda, has such a little amount of caffein in it that I, for myself, didn’t even had it categorized as something that could be used as little caffein booster.

It hadn’t been a question, but I still noted down the kind of drinks people choose to drink as daily caffein source, which actually shows that coffee is the usual to go drink but again, surprisingly lot told me that they don’t drink tea (or anything else) as daily basis but more randomly whenever they feel like it.

In the end, what can we conclude out of all this messy information?

So, the usual hours you should sleep is put on 7-8 hours per night.

The average hours out of 104 artists in the rottmnt tumblr bubble is 6,48 hours per night with a minimum needed of 4,94 hours to get through the day. The maximum hours got in a night lay by 9,6 hours.

53,85% of these 104 go through their every day without the help of any caffein.

39,42% have caffein included into their daily routine.

6, 73% see caffein only as their last resort and try to avoid consuming any for as long as possible.

Thank you, a lot, for reading so far and thousand thanks to all the people participating in this lil survey again! I had a lot of fun doing this and I hope this little conclusion here is entertaining enough to make it worth having to answer my “few” questions!

If you want to share your own opinion or point out any mistakes I may have made, please feel free to do so~

I wish everyone a happy day and or good night!

If you are interested into my first survey, pls click here :3 Special Thanks to all of the participants!!! @heckitall @triona-tribblescore @butterfilledpockets @crownedcrowrow @pezhead @wraenata @zinovi768 @cokowiii @idiot-mushroom @less-depresso-more-espresso @mightyanxiety @sweeneydino @2aceofspades @mobiitez @onejellyfishplease @titenoute @arrora-art @indieyuugure @tblsomedoodles @theelvishfiddler @tasenwiththerobots @iredoodles @sushixstar @turrondeluxe @signanothername @adorabledrugl0rd @mr-doodles @theastroghost @djpachipikachu @hellishgayliath @frosteaart @godsfaultycreations @koolaidashley @soda-kazoo @tapakah0 @v-albion @sad-leon @angelpuns @sharkfinn @venelona-turtle-den @goatedgreen @graphitehybrid @laseralligator @peach-moths @vangh17a @debb987 @lieutenantbiscute @sunnyyyteaaa @0ransje @manga-toons

[slavicafire]

june, as it brings multiple conversations about identity and related subjects, reminds me time and time again that my approach and attitude towards labels is oftentimes fundamentally different than those of other people in my life, non-normative and otherwise. which can also be frustrating as I struggle to understand people's personal outlooks - I accept them, of course, but I just simply cannot personally relate. people's intimate attachment to labels, outside of the context of conversations that are closely related to them or the application of intersectionality, seems baffling to me. again, I'm not saying it is in any way incorrect - it's just not relatable to me, which perhaps is also a privilege in and of itself.

I find labels to be useful socio-cultural shortcuts - utilitarian albeit simplistic signifiers, meant to quickly convey one's stance or situation when the given conversation requires it. a quick functional footnote appearing when certain aspects of my identity become significant to the matter at hand - and not, in any way, an active part of my identity itself, or any absolute inherent truth about me that I cling to or build myself around.

saying that I am a bisexual woman is a quick footnote to let the person I am conversing with - using conversation as a broad descriptor of interaction/engagement - place me in whatever cultural mapping they use and orient themselves in relation to me. it's not in any way a full picture or a universal truth - womanhood will be a different idea depending on the context and the conversation and the conversing parties, so will be bisexuality, whether in terms of sexual orientation or gender expression.

my being a woman is significant in terms of the cultural contexts I exist within, certain struggles I face, and acts as a useful shortcut to signify my identity in conversations where it matters - I don't find it to be an inherent, invaluable truth to my being. stripped of the cultural norms of gender, that label stops being useful or relevant to me, and remains simply a very imperfect biological signifier that could be replaced by something more complex in order to actually be useful.

when conversing with someone from the societal normative majority - in and of itself a limiting and imperfect label - saying I am bisexual lets them place me in a certain orientation to themselves, and provides a simple translation of an otherwise very complex, varied, and personal idea. when conversing with someone from the non-normative part of society, using the bisexual label starts a different conversation and requires a different approach - many times I've been advised I should use the pansexual label, or bisexual lesbian, or whatever other label that the given person projected my image through at that point. and it was entirely irrelevant. if someone, as their own personal shortcut, labels me as pansexual, I could not care less - it's not a label I use, but I don't treat bisexuality as a truth so inherent to me that contorting it is personally offensive or hurtful. it is, at best, annoying on the account of my personal dislike towards people trying to explain myself to myself, no matter the field. definitions change, understandings vary, approaches fluctuate with time, labels outside of the conversations they provide context to cease to mean much to me.

I was talking with a friend about my gender expression - and given how varied it is, they asked at some point: have you ever considered that you're not cis? maybe you're genderfluid? or non-binary? or something?

and the answer was simply utilitarian: in any context (especially social and political) that has a tangible effect on my real situation, saying I'm cis is adequate and accurate, and perfectly enough. in any more complex, subjective, and personal context, my expression does not require a label beyond the bisexual shortcut, as a the label would not be useful or adequate, or exhaustive.

I understand that people hold their labels so close, the flags and pronouns and definitions they believe to be a profound extension of themselves - I just cannot relate.

[buggybambi]

How do you think Carmy's mom would react to meeting you (in any AU)?

great question i'd love to tell you my thoughts

willow and aurora's mom, aka bedtime kisses au (reader is a journalist in this au pre-kids) - i can view her being kind of hesitant. carmen is her baby boy, she's not sure any woman will be good enough for him. you and him met while you were a journalist, and she just doesn't think that's a suitable career. "the news is so messy." she'd comment as you sit down for dinner with her. once you and carmen get married have willow, i think she warms up a little. she'd criticize your timing of having your daughter, naturally, but she sees how much you care for her son. regardless she still doesn't accept you?? it's like a passive aggressive thing in my mind

richie's younger sister, aka "i dont have a name for this au" - okay, i've said this before, donna does not like the fact that you (richie's younger sister) and carmen (her son) are dating. mikey and richie were close, and she thinks you're obsessed with her family for dating her dead son's brother. "you can't be serious.." is the literal thing she says when carmen makes mention of you and him dating. he wants you two to meet, but he always warns you: it won't end well. so you and him attend few events together (he'll still go to family dinners and bring you along, and she behaves *up until certain parts of the evening depending on varying factors like alcohol, conversation, the guest list, etc* for the most part) but you don't go to certain family gatherings with him. i imagine donna likes to do something for mikey's birthday and you stay away from that. you comfort carm and richie, of course, but you stay away from that.

adoptive mom!reader, aka my sadie bug au - i think this is one where donna does like you. carmy taking in mikey's daughter was a huge topic in the family for a long time (with few family members supporting it because they don't think carm's a good enough caretaker to take sadie in), but as soon as you come along? they love you. she tells you she appreciates you treating her grandchild with such care, and thanks you for bringing a smile to her son's face. "mikey would just love you." she tells you often, and you thank her everytime. "you raised wonderful children, mrs. berzatto, i'm just happy that sadie and carmy are happy."

if i missed any please lmk! i think this is all of them<3

[loriache]

Notes on the World Map: Melini

I'm kind of annoyed the complete World Bible doesn't have a version of the World Map with Melini filled in... unless it does and I missed it, but I literally bought it and looked at the relevant pages for this post! Anyway, I think this is the closest we have. I'm looking at this and -- Kahka Brud literally doesn't have a coast anymore. No wonder they're pissed!! Any industry involving the sea, trade, fishing, etc. is basically impossible now - you'd have to get to the coastline on the west side of the continent. That's probably miles!

Speaking of miles... how big is Melini?

This is where I got... really unwell. So first off, let's assume the official Dunmeshi World Map is a Mercator projection. I think the stage cartography in the Dunmeshi universe is at, it's going to be most important that maps are useful for marine navigation. So we can't just drop an approximate scale onto the grid and leave it at that; we have to work out where the equator is.

The way I've done that is via two places that seem like they have a close(ish) real world equivalent - in terms of climate and culture - Utaya and the Island of Wa (Toshiro's home). The Island of Wa is obviously Japan, and I've seen plausible arguments that Utaya is probably a climate/location similar to Nepal.

So, here's the (approximate) location and latitude of those places on a Mercator map of Earth:

If we arbitarily superimpose the two maps, asssuming they're the same size, we can draw a theoretical equator line that puts the two places at the same latitude, though on a different side of the equator. Putting them on the same side as Earth made the equator really low. I feel like that's ... unlikely, so we're going with this.

That puts Melini at a rough latitude of .. ~55? which would, using the same scale as the previous map, make two squares (at that latitude) about 600 miles. Very roughly calculating the size as given on the map based on that, that gives a width of (approximately) 250 miles and a length of 400, coming in at a bit less than 100,000 miles² due to the shape. Probably it's between the sizes of the UK and Aotearoa.

That really helps me visualise what Laios is working with here when I think about post-canon. Though I reckon what I've done here is "Just enough research to really annoy an expert". Sorry if you're that expert. I really don't know much about cartography <3 It's like that xkcd comic:

On distances, as someone who lives in the UK; with a car, you can get almost anywhere in a day if you're prepared to drive until late. But they don't have cars, so getting from one end to the other would take multiple days of travel. It'd take about 7 days to walk the approx "length", 400~ miles (from the top of Scotland to Liverpool) (according to Google Maps) and 2 days cycling, so probably 3-5 days with horses, depending on how you pushed them. That'd vary a bit depending on terrain, of course.

[cocained]

crime plots part 3: (part one | part two)

tw: drugs, guns, mention of murder, etc.

two people who are drug dealers, but together! they run a successful business and besides being colleagues, they are also highly in love with each another.

a group plot kinda based on baby driver where a bunch of criminals are brought together for robberies, or anything really, and splitting the money in the end. they all know each other because they worked together before or just met somewhere down the line and they all have different talents and connections (friendships, love, exes or rivals). the team usually changes depending on the job, but the boss think this particular team works well so it becomes a consistent. they work different together on cases, things go wrong and sometimes it goes really well. this can go many ways! hook-ups, break-ups, arguments, saving each other’s lives, almost getting caught, etc!

a world infamous hacker is known for their ways that are impossible to crack. their activities could vary from hacking notorious businesses to darker stuff like having their own cyber criminal organization or working with the most dangerous people in the world. either way no one knows who they truly are, until the hacker gets hacked and receives voice/video calls or even a package or a visit to their house! from there on things could go either way: working together, threatening to expose one another, wanting to learn from one another... bonus: after a while they fall in love but it’s long distance so what they do is they hack into each other’s phones and toy with each others lives bc they have no idea what privacy is and omg imagine the angst!

i’m a gangleader and you’re a rookie trying to prove themselves and i have a soft spot for you because you’re cute, so i help you out. i teach you things and bring you along to places just so i can have your back. and people in the gang start talking shit, but i get highly defensive and if anyone else tries to make a move on you i might lose it. plot twist: i get injured and you’re taking care of me.

we’re both part of a different crime family and to settle the decade old war we are forced to marry each other. but we spent our entire life hating each other because people that we cared got killed because of this war and for years i was under protection so i could never do what i wanted because of you. now muse a is a little bit scared of muse b bc they’re just normal and muse b is a lot more involved in the industry, killed people and god knows what. muse a also had to break up with their previous partner because of the arranged marriage. and let’s be real, this was never meant to last and at some point they’re starting to cheat on each other and that’s when the possessiveness begins and arguments turn into them slowly starting to care about each other.

i’m a stripper/prostitute working for you and honestly i don’t love doing this, but i need the money and it’s the only way to get close to you and i’m honestly breaking my own heart having to see you with other entertainers bc let’s be real, you barely know i exist

i work in the emergency room and you keep coming in with bullet/stab wounds and crazy stories about how you got them and i don’t believe you so i confront you one on one and tell you what i think is really going on here, you’re a criminal aren’t you?

someone close to me got killed and in order to find answers i dive into their world, only to find out they live a double life full of crime. no one knows i’m going undercover as an innocent rookie and i try to get close to the people involved to get answers. of course, i meet a love interest that either i get along with from the start and helps me with adjusting into this new life or it’s like an enemies to lovers sorta thing. only to realize after a while that it’s too late to go back to normal and now i’m the one that’s living the double life and as though that’s not enough, the answers i’ve been looking for are not what i expected them to be...

muse a is a detective in a murder investigation, they always give it their all, but this time they’re told to do so by all means necessary. a murder of someone ‘important’ or maybe an expected serial killer! muse b is an inmate charged with murder and they’re highly intelligent, very cooperative and their murder is just very similar to the one that just occurred. hence the reason muse b is asked to become the criminal consultant for a reduced sentence, helping muse a with their investigation because who can think like a criminal better than a criminal? optional: muse b is sending help from the outside world to help with the investigation there too (and protect the detective!)

i’m rich as shit and when they say you don’t become this rich by being an good person — they’re right. a lot of it is drug money (or something else?) and it’s a secret i’m planning on bringing to my grave until one day my house keeper/pool boy/gardener/??? overhears one of my phone calls and instead of them taking the hush money to keep this between us, they want to go on a date.

[weenwrites]

Hello! Can you please write some platonic/familial headcannons for tfp soundwave and a human reader who lives on the Nemesis with them?

The reader is an artist who is very quiet and tends to only show their emotions around soundwave, most of the time you can find them sitting on soundwaves shoulder and drawing but if not then they are usually listening in on whatever gossip is going round the ship.

Thank you! don't forget to drink some water and have a yummy snack!

[ Please do not repost, plagiarize, or use my writing for AI! Translating my work with proper credit is acceptable, but please ask first! ]

Sitting in silence together as you both work is Soundwave's ideal way to slowly bond with someone. However it's only ideal given his oath of silence and the type of work he does around the Nemesis. If you keep an eye out or pay close attention to whoever passes behind you and Soundwave, you'll notice that anyone that passes by the two of you automatically knows to keep quiet. You'll hear vehicons chatting and laughing over something far off in the halls, but once they get close enough there will be nothing but dead silence from them. Why they do it is something you'll never truly find out, as the answer you get varies depending on who you ask, but at least you have Soundwave to thank for the silence.

However, you don't always have to keep quiet around him while he works. He doesn't mind if you talk about things like how your day went, or something new that you're interested in, or the gossip you've heard around the ship while he works (as long as he doesn't need to completely focus on his work at the moment). They're more of a listener than a talker, but every now and then, they'll play back clips of your voice in order to ask more about something you mentioned or maybe something unrelated.

Whenever you've had your fill of work, or you want to get up and stretch your legs before you come back, all you have to do is slowly get up and Soundwave will automatically catch on that you want down. They'll lift their arm level to their shoulder and slowly set you to the ground before they continue their work.

Whenever you wander around the Nemesis, the gossip you hear varies from vehicons back talking some of the higher-ups, to vehicons from different barracks or squadrons back talking vehicons from other barracks or squadrons, to gossip about you. They say all sorts of things, ranging from disdain at how Soundwave adopted a pet squishy, to amazement at how talented humans can be, to questions about what they think being a human is like. It's a mixed bag, really, and unless you can learn to tell the vehicons apart from one another, you can't tell what you'll hear when you listen in on some vehicons working on changing the lights in the hall.

Soundwave's become familiar with places you frequently visit around the Nemesis, so it doesn't take too long to find you. Additionally they have access to every surveillance camera aboard the ship as well as a very keen eye, so it really isn't much of a challenge for them. However, if they're too busy then they'll send Lazerbeak to go fetch you for whatever reason they need you.

Your room is located within his habsuite of course, but you're allowed your own privacy, as well as a lot of space to store all of your belongings. And of course since you have different needs than a cybertronian, he'll take time every week in order to accompany you down to some town or city within Earth, or task Lazerbeak to watch after you as you get the necessary things you need like food, water, clothing, etc..

But where would you get the cash for such things? He simply takes it from the rich. The security systems and anti-virus software available on earth technology is considered very rudimentary by Soundwave's standards, so it's not much of an issue for them to develop a malware that slowly trickles money out of some rich person's bank account.

However, if for some reason something were to happen while you were down on earth, you have his personal comm link line. The moment you call that line, he'll either go find you himself or disbatch Lazerbeak to retrieve you if he's unavailable.

[anexperimentallife]

Are You There? Are You Safe? Is The Flock Safe?

(I'm posting the full text of some stories I've sold, but for which the rights have reverted to me. This is the second story I ever sold--an 800 word flash piece I wrote for Daily Science Fiction--and they bought it just in time for me to buy a needed prescription. It's not my usual style, but I'm proud of it, especially since none other than Cat Rambo said it made her cry.)

--

Even this close to the desert, the sun finds enough cloud on which to paint its retirement colors. Turner Bray sits beside an almost-dry stream under a Joshua tree while the oranges and yellows and reds and pinks fade into one another, and listens to the birds.

They are not Original birds, of course; the stores of avian DNA were among the many things damaged on the voyage here, centuries ago. They might look like Original birds, and hatch from eggs like Original birds, but they are partly carbon filament and nanotubes, and they grow tiny processors in their brains to guide them--with varying degrees of success--toward Original bird behavior.

This flock--Turner's flock--comprises both parakeets and cockatiels, as well as a mated pair of African Grays and an elderly Amazonian Parrot. Original Birds did not mix like this in the wild, and that is part of why Turner is here; to learn more about how these birds differ in behavior from Originals so that new designs can take into account the failures of the past.

As the light fades, the birds start up the evening chatter that binds them as a flock in much the same way it must have for Original birds. They speak in chirrups and sweels and little squawks that ask, "Are you there? Are you safe? Is The Flock safe?" And they answer each other, "I am here. I am safe. The Flock is safe."

To pass the days and weeks, Turner teaches himself to imitate the bird calls, becoming fluent enough to engage in their daily reassurances. Sometimes he spreads crumbled rations on the ground and calls out in their language, "Food! Food! There is food here!" After a while, most will eat tidbits directly from his hand, and after a longer while they seem to accept as one of them this wingless giant who speaks the language of the flock.

The birds have names for each other. They give Turner a name, as well--a simple, trailing squawk--and even contact-call to him when he moves out of sight. "Where are you? We can't see you! Are you safe?"

On the day of the snake attack, Turner is recording. Although he should simply observe, his first reaction is to raise the alarm. "Snake! Snake! Protect the chicks!" The snake is menacing the Grays' nest, but it is a little cockatiel--his real name is a lilting whistle, but Turner has dubbed him Geronimo for his bravery--who throws himself at the snake's eyes, protecting the chicks for the scant second it takes the rest of the flock to descend in a fury of beaks and claws and battering wings.

When the battle is done, Geronimo lays on his side on the ground flapping one wing and peeping feebly. The lump in Turner's throat surprises him, but more so the reaction of the flock. Original birds would have left Geronimo to die or--depending on the species--finished him off. But these birds form a protective circle around their fallen hero, and several of the smaller ones line up to press their beaks to Geronimo's to feed him the snake meat they've consumed.

They are not just different from Original birds, Turner thinks, but--as blasphemous as the idea may be in a world where terraforming has become a religion--better than Original birds. Yet, because they are not enough like Original birds, they will be phased out and replaced over the next five years.

For the first time since he was a small child, Turner weeps openly.

Years pass. Turner is an old man, now; too old for field research, many say, but he manages to acquire a grant, even so. His new study will take him to the edge of a different desert, far from the intentionally terraformed parts of the world, but to a place where Terran life has, nonetheless, taken hold. Most importantly, it will take him far away from the "civilization" he no longer wants to be a part of. The one that saw fit to destroy something beautiful simply because it was not what they had imagined it should be.

After setting up camp, he wheels the heavy cryogenic sample cases out of the back of his vehicle. Most biologists carry empty cases to the field and return with full ones, but Turner is doing the opposite. By the time anyone discovers what he has stolen it will be too late.

The first chicks hatch after a couple of weeks, and Turner speaks to them in the language of birds. "We are here. We are safe. The Flock is safe."

(Also, my health is failing, and I need to get back to the US where I can use my medical benefits if I'm going to live to see my daughter grow up. If you'd like to help, please see this post.)

[minggukieology]

Hello, I found this old quote from jimin and I’ve seen it translated elsewhere but I was hoping to get your take on it? It’s from this article

https://n.news.naver.com/mnews/article/415/0000001635?sid=004

지민_ 중학교 3학년 때부터 춤을 춰왔고 부산예고에 수석 입학 할 만큼 소문난 춤꾼이지만 동시에 매력적인 보컬로 방탄소년단만의 색깔을 만드는 데 큰 역할을 했다. 또 ‘짐드백’(지민+샌드백)이란 별명이 생길 정도로 팀 내 서열 꼴찌가 됐는데 어쩌다 이렇게 됐나.

▲ 춤뿐 아니라 보컬에 대한 고민도 많은 편이다. 보컬적인 면에서 아직 너무 부족하다고 생각하기 때문에 스스로 만족할 수 있을 만큼 노력해서 더 좋은 노래를 들려드리고 싶다. 서열 꼴찌인 건 인정한다. 막내 정국이한테 던져지고 나서 이렇게 된 것 같다. ‘정국 맘’이라는 별명이 있는데 이제 ‘정국 장난감’이 된 것 같다.(웃음) 반항할 수 없기도 하지만 그런 장난이 싫지 않기 때문에 어쩔 수 없다.

Hi, thanks a lot for your message.

Since it's quite a bit of text I will give a translation without much of explaining around it for the parts where it just mentions Jimin's history etc and focus more on the parts which I assume were the reason you sent me the message for.

Here I will also try to make it more fun for me (and for those who are maybe interested in going more in depth too) by showing multiple ways of translating certain words or phrases, ranging from 1st option marked as ¹ - 'closest to source' translation (which I typically provide to show what was said in original word as opposed to just transforming it to be more seemless and easier to understand for an English speaker) /2nd option marked as ²- close synonym (kind of middle of the two, optional) / 3rd option marked as ³- 'looser, more flexible' translation (might not be mirroring the source text 100% but brings the essence of the word, phrase closer to the English language and its context). This is just to show translations can vary depending on stylistic choice and preference. Naturally, this doesn't always apply though and there's many further nuances that can be discussed etc.

Note: if you wish to skip the (admittedly long) explanation and my weird number exercise, scroll to the bottom for clean translation.

지민_ 중학교 3학년 때부터 춤을 ���왔고 부산예고에 수석 입학 할 만큼 소문난 춤꾼이지만 동시에 매력적인 보컬로 방탄소년단만의 색깔을 만드는 데 큰 역할을 했다.

또 ‘짐드백’(지민+샌드백)이란 별명이 생길 정도로 팀 내 서열 꼴찌가 됐는데 어쩌다 이렇게 됐나.

"Jimin- You've been dancing since the third grade of middle school and were such a notorious dancer to the point that you got accepted to Busan Arts High School as the top student (*수석 입학), but at the same time, you also played a big role in creating BTS' own specific colors with your ¹attractive / ²appealing vocals.

Though on top of that, you came in ¹last position in the team ranking / ³were last in the team pecking order to such an extent that you ³earned yourself a nickname ¹'jim-deubaek' / ²'jim-dbag' / ³'jim-punchbag' (Jimin + ¹sandbag / ³punching bag), ¹how did it happen / ³how come / ³how did this come about?"

(*note: here of course the tone is playful and the meaning obviously isn't referring to any harmful violence, the question is posed in a way that it implies Jimin is both the top (skills, influence wise) and then finds himself at the bottom when it comes to certain power hierarchy in the group, like when they joke around together (even physically), to the point that not even the youngest regards him as a 'hyung' and rather plays around with him, which Jimin then refers to in the response accordingly)

춤뿐 아니라 보컬에 대한 고민도 많은 편이다. 보컬적인 면에서 아직 너무 부족하다고 생각하기 때문에 스스로 만족할 수 있을 만큼 노력해서 더 좋은 노래를 들려드리고 싶다.

서열 꼴찌인 건 인정한다. 막내 정국이한테 던져지고 나서 이렇게 된 것 같다. ‘정국 맘’이라는 별명이 있는데 이제 ‘정국 장난감’이 된 것 같다.(웃음) 반항할 수 없기도 하지만 그런 장난이 싫지 않기 때문에 어쩔 수 없다.

"Not only dancing, I tend to worry a lot about my vocals too. I think I am still lacking in the vocal aspect, therefore I want to try hard enough to be satisfied with myself and give you better songs.

I admit to being last in ³the pecking order. I think ¹it became/ ³I ended up like this after ¹being ¹thrown / ³tossed around by ¹the maknae Jungkook. I have the nickname ¹'Jungkook's mum' (*the word mum spelled in Korean) but now / from now on I think I am becoming ¹'Jungkook's toy' / ³'Jungkook's plaything'. (Laughter) I cannot ¹defy it / ²resist, but since I don't hate these kind of ¹antics/ ¹play / ²jokes / ²mischief, ¹there's nothing to do / ³I can't help it."

Concluding note: by giving multiple options I tried to show that there are always various ways to go about translations. Here I would say to avoid misunderstanding, it's better to try to convey the meaning of what was said with a bit more flexible translation.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

TLDR, clean translation:

Reporter: "(Jimin) You've been dancing since the third grade of middle school and were such a notorious dancer to the point that you got accepted to Busan Arts High School as the top student, but at the same time, you also played a big role in creating BTS' own specific colors with your attractive vocals. Though on top of that, you were last in the team pecking order to such an extent that you earned yourself a nickname 'jim-punchbag' (Jimin +punching bag), how did this come about?"

JM: "Not only dancing, I tend to worry a lot about my vocals too. I think I am still lacking in the vocal aspect, therefore I want to try hard enough to be satisfied with myself and give you better songs. I admit to being last in the pecking order. I think I ended up like this after being tossed around by the maknae Jungkook. I have the nickname 'Jungkook's mum' but now I think I am becoming 'Jungkook's plaything'. (Laughter) I cannot defy it, but since I don't hate these kind of antics, there's nothing to do about it."

(exerpt from 그 여름, 우리가 사랑한 방탄소년단, published 27.07.2016 by atstar1)

[branmer]

the familiar form

my first fill for @b5popup!

wordcount: 1405

prompts:

Aiashon (Warrior Caste OC) & Sheridan - The greatest harm can result from the best intentions. Kedrunn (Warrior Caste OC) & Sheridan - Kissing bruises

Takes place within an au where Branmer lives, so he's there too :)

Truth be told, Sheridan is a little unnerved by Branmer’s father. He understands how to deal with the rest of the Warriors. They hate him, he hates them, and he takes it in his stride with an arrogant fuck you attitude that doesn’t make them like him any better, but at least gets things done. But Kedrunn is, well, different. He’s the only one that doesn’t call him Starkiller for a start. Even Branmer, who is more diplomatic than most, still calls him Starkiller. Neroon, of course, relishes the epithet, enunciating every syllable as though he hopes Sheridan drops dead just from hearing it. 

Kedrunn, though, always calls him Captain or Sheridan, depending on the occasion. They haven’t got to John yet, Minbari seem to shy away from Human first names, perhaps due to a natural formality of mind, and Sheridan’s not sure if he should offer it up yet. They’re not friends, more like friendly acquaintances, and he doesn’t want to overstep any boundaries.

Friendly. Yeah, that’s the thing that unsettles him. Kedrunn is friendly in a way none of the other Warriors are. He holds lifts for Sheridan (when more than one Warrior of varying rank has laughed in his face as the doors close), he greets him in the corridors and asks him how he’s doing with genuine interest, tries out his halting English on him… hell, he even invited him to some kind of Warrior Caste session night the other day. 

(Although Sheridan had turned that one down, a little concerned he’d end the evening with his throat slit.)

Sheridan knows how to deal with Neroon being a jerk, Branmer testing the boundaries of impoliteness, and Aiashon’s cool indifference, but he’s really not sure how to react to a Warrior bringing you coffee in the War Room and asking if you got enough sleep last night. Especially when that results in his son shoulder checking you in the corridor later. Delenn claims he’s paranoid and that Branmer was just in a hurry and didn’t see him. But she also described Branmer as a man of peace when he’s been the most gungho war monger out of the Minbari. Man of peace. Ha! More like piece of shit.

In the end he decides to ignore the shoulder check and return Kedrunn’s friendliness. It would be good to have at least one Warrior who doesn’t want to turn him into a wet pavement smear, and it would be rude not to respond in kind, surely? Next time Kedrunn brings him coffee he decides to show his appreciation by trying out a little Vik on him. He’d been getting a few lessons from Marcus on the side, thinking it might be useful. 

He takes the proffered cup, smiling, and says, “Da’khe dhe, denndhoyni.”

There is an outraged intake of breath from Branmer and only Delenn’s hand keeps him from muscling forward. Beside him Neroon is looking the happiest Sheridan has ever seen, his face split into an enormous, shit eating grin. Several Warriors are smothering titters, and even Aiashon appears to be hiding a smirk.

“Oh,” Sheridan says mournfully, “did I say it wrong?”

“Not unless you intended to address my father as a child,” Branmer says, all ice. He’s got that mean, pinched look he gets when he’s about to enter a fight, like a hound scenting blood.

“Branmer, that’s enough now,” Kedrunn chides gently. He is smiling at Sheridan, quite without mockery. “You were near enough, but I think what you wanted to say was ‘da’ke de, denndoye’. We are not so close that the familiar form is appropriate.”

God damn Marcus and his shitty Vik. “Sorry, I didn’t mean any disrespect.”

“None was taken.” Kedrunn shoots Branmer a pointed look. “Shall we begin?”

Later, Kedrunn takes him aside and offers to give him lessons in Vik, and that’s how Sheridan finds himself taking regular morning walks through the Zocalo with the Shai Alyt’s father. It starts with them just practising Vik, but over time their conversations drift. Sheridan is curious about Minbar, Kedrunn is curious about Earth in turn, and that, by natural extension, turns to more personal exchanges of memory. 

He is in the middle of telling Kedrunn how he totalled his first bicycle when there is an ominous creaking noise above them and the world tilts violently. Suddenly he is on the ground, breath knocked from his body, and Kedrunn’s hand gripping his wrist so hard it hurts. 

“Ow, fuck!” Sheridan wheezes.

“My apologies, Captain,” Kedrunn says, letting go and sitting up. “I forgot how fragile your species is.”

Sheridan looks past Kedrunn’s shoulder to what’s left of a Zocalo stall, the ground shining with broken glass and debris. The stall owner is holding back tears as she points security towards the crumpled bit of ceiling beam that’s responsible for the mess. “Would have been worse if you hadn't grabbed me. I'm starting to think you like me.”

“Yes, well, much as the rest of my caste might celebrate your death, it would be a great loss to the war effort. Here, let me see.”

Sheridan pulls back his sleeve and holds out his arm, laughing a little lightheadedly. He really needs to stop having brushes with death. “You know, when I was a kid and I got in scrapes like this my parents used to kiss it better.”

“Oh?” Kedrunn says, and raised Sheridan's wrist to his lips, brushing them along finger shaped bruises. “Like this?”

“Uh,” Sheridan says. He can feel that his face has gone very red. “Uh. You, uh, don’t need to do that, haha. Least if you do, I think I should use the familiar form from now on, right?”

“I believe you’ve been entitled to do so for some time now, Captain,” Kedrunn remarks with a benign smile, cool as if he hadn’t just kissed Sheridan’s wrist. As if what he’d done was totally normal. But, he probably did think that! He wasn’t to know! And be damned if Sheridan would embarrass them both by explaining. He tries to look anywhere but at Kedrunn and lands on, to his horror, Branmer.

Branmer, who has clearly seen everything and is staring Sheridan down with a fury that tells him he better stay away from the station airlocks for a while. If not for life. Branmer’s jaw pulses, and he calls out, “Father!”

Kedrunn drops Sheridan’s wrist, and makes to rise. “I’m fine, nhe’Bhranye.”

A shadow falls over Sheridan as he’s considering whether he can make a break for it while Branmer is fussing over his father. “Need a hand, Starkiller?”

It’s Aiashon, regarding him with a laconic expression. Reluctantly, feeling like it might be a trap, he takes her hand. “You trying to win some brownie points with your Shai Alyt by taking me out for him?”

“I have no idea what that is” Aiashon said, lifting him to his feet as if he was no heavier than a shitzu. “I am not as well versed in Human cultural peculiarities as my cousin. You will have to speak plainer.”

Sheridan nodded glumly in Branmer’s direction. “Pretty sure your boss thinks I’m trying to seduce his dad.”

“Ha.” That’s as close to laughing he’s ever heard her get. “Don’t mind that. Branmer has always been a little insecure when it comes to his father. You have probably noticed that our people can be quite… rigid in our thinking, especially when it comes to caste matters. Growing up the religious caste son of a Warrior was not easy, I think. At any rate, you would not be the first for whom Sech Kedrunn’s kindness has attracted the jealousy of his son. The greatest harm can result from the best intentions, as they say.”

She says the last part with just a touch of humour leaking past her stony facade. He looks at her properly for the first time and realises quite abruptly that Kedrunn wasn’t the only friend he had in the Warrior caste. “Any advice on how to deal with it?”

“If you were a Warrior I’d suggest giving him a good beating in the denn’bok stalls, but alas,” she looks him up and down, “that would end badly for you. No, I’m afraid you will simply have to deal with it.”

Sheridan sighs. “Yeah. Figures. It’s never easy with your lot is it?”

“Now, Captain,” she says, tutting. “I thought you liked challenges?”

[reijnders]

IPA and gloss under the cut, as well as explanation of the writing system for those not in the know.

In the modern day of the Starflight setting, the widespread culture commonly known by the dominant language of the region (twac̊in̊), or the name tewenic is considered to be shared across many hundreds of miles of land, and by various major ethnic groups on the continent of Șotuŧahtěnu. However, the coastal regions before the arrival of H̊lanueli people from the north is considered the birthplace of much of this culture; the general religious template, languages, staple foods, and much more all stem from this ancient scrubland. There, stories of the gods were revered, but not often recorded in verse. Exploration of art via wordcraft was often left to their western neighbors, or the southern desert nomads that eventually were assimilated into the sedentary settlements of the Tewenic. Their writing system is one of the few things that was adapted from outside cultures, coming from the exploring sailors that first brought H̊lanueli traders(along with their own of course) to the central coasts. Thus, not much can be found in terms of poet being a scholarly position until we get much closer to a time where connection across the world is readily available. Poems such as these, poems of a more personal nature are often all that can be found, with few exceptions for written versions of older prayers, which tended to be standardized for memorization.

The native religion is polytheistic, with a pantheon of 17(so far) gods that have to do with various forms of water. Sometimes this is as simple as gods for bodies of water that can be encountered across the continent, and gods that bring said waters down from the sky or mountains, and sometimes they are the embodiment of the fear of being at sea during a storm, or a god that protects children swimming in the shallows. While seen as having mythical, awesome powers, these gods are also regarded as beings closer to as nonchalant bystanders to the affairs of mortals, rather than active participants in the shaping of their world. The gods act because it is in their nature, not because they are inherently good or evil. Sanadec brings freshwater down from the rivers because that is what she does, and she is flighty and thoughtless because the rivers themselves wander and twist aimlessly through the forests. Han̊ brings earthquakes and tsunamis because she knows nothing else. Some gods are more popular(Le, Yin, Dalse in particular, representatives of fishing/fertility, storms/change, and dreams respectively in particular) and are prayed to more often, but overall, these prayers translate better as forceful commands. Prayer should be strong enough to turn the god’s head and convince them that your voice is not just another crash of the waves.

The sea itself is one of the most important objects in this religion, though reverence of it varies in interpretation. Focusing on the central coasts, where this poem originates, the sea is seen as a binding force. You are born from its waters, and when you die, you are returned to them. Basically, everything culturally significant happens centered around some type of water, but as a region very dependent on the ocean for primary trade routes, a source of seawater can be found communally in many residential areas. The sea is neither good nor bad, not a blessing or a place to be feared. It’s all of those things, but it also just Is. It’s a fact of existence, and one that everyone there owes their lives to, in a sense.

The poem, written by an unknown author in the northwestern peninsula of modern day Ac̊ah̊i, was found on a fragment of parchment in the storage section of a long-ruined temple, presumably because whoever had received it called those walls home. The most popular consensus is that the poem is a request to see each other, as lovers, which would tie in closely with the theory of the recipient being a temple dweller. Its possible that the author was originally from one of the more extant nomadic tribes from the desert that is central to the continent and wishes to view the ocean with their lover as a sort of religious pilgrimage. On the whole, most scholars agree that it has a very positive interpretation, a textual reminiscence of their marriage, and a promise of lighter days to come.

However, there are some that have a…less joyful interpretation of the text. For centuries, traditional burials along the coast have involved sea burials, where the body is brought out a distance from the shore, and practiced divers take turns excavating a pit for it to be buried beneath the waves. It’s an arduous process, and one not always afforded to  everyone. To be taken to the sea after death was, at some points in history, a rare privilege. These opposing scholars are of the belief that the poem was written on the author’s deathbed, and delivered after their passing, as a sort of last will and testament for their lover. This interpretation doesn’t hold up nearly as well as the former, but it is interesting to think about. The naming of the god Yin is the main cause of controversy among scholars of either school, due to the contradicting nature of the god itself. Where those who see the poem as a happier one, Yin is just used as a fanciful way of mentioning the windstorms known to that coastline, and perhaps as a tie-in to the recipient’s temple residence. Others believe that Yin was mentioned more for his association with change, with the writer’s death being the largest change the recipient must deal with, and anger as well, perhaps at an unjust death come too soon.

The grammar of this poem is of interest as well. Starting from the beginning, the pronouns caen̊ and ni (1S and 2S respectively) are both formal pronouns, specifically those used between individuals of similar perceived social class. In this case, it can be interpreted as two adults. Having the formality included with the future tense verb—indicated by the particle c-y—solidifies that this first line should be interpreted as a request, rather than a demand. In the third line, the pronoun acyi(3PL and formal) is an exclusive one, and rather than being directed at someone of similar rank, it is for someone perceived to be above the speaker, in this case deifying the waves and, of course, the god Yin. Technically, this pronoun clusivity distinction is not grammatically necessary, and instead is an artifact of the time. A taboo on associating oneself or mortal others with the being of the divine, even from a standpoint of simple words. To use a regular third person plural, even one that is still directed upwards socially—in this case cael—would be akin to bringing that which is divine down to the level of mortality, or worse still, uplifting the mundane to the status of godhood. In line four, we see the verb for ‘to do’ used as an indication that something was completed, further secured by the noun phrase nende nuyude, ‘long time’, where the word ‘ago’ is implied by nature of the sentence. Finally, the last line switches from the formal 1S caen̊, to the informal pronoun ca, indicating a more intimate closeness between writer and reader in the moments described.

WORD BANK

Șotuŧahtěnu /ɬɒtəθahtɛ˧˥nə/ - The Jěyotuy word for the planet's largest continent.

H̊lanueli /xlænweli/ - began as a name for the northern people, most likely a mixture of groups from Sallóxe-speaking villages that were traded scrubland vegetables for fish from the open ocean. Comes from the word h̊lanen, meaning ‘stew’, thus calling them stew-eaters; the relatively colder climate lent to more hot and hearty meals than the hurricane-prone south.

nende /nen:dʲe/ - Time, moment, or an "hour" in their timekeeping system, which equates to roughly 48 minutes in Earth time.

nuyu /n:uju/ - An adjective meaning long or extending.

GLOSS

The writing system for the Twac̊in̊ language is shared by several languages in the area and is referred to as the C̊iyahe alphabet (read more here). Its usage in modern forms of the language consists of four vowel glyphs(a, i, u, and e), three diphthongs(ae, ua, and ue), eleven consonants, and 9 consonant cluster glyphs. In the Latin alphabet, the clusters, diphthongs, and the letter tw are represented by digraphs, but this is not the case in the native alphabet. Below is a chart of all the characters, their romanization, and potential pronunciations in the standard modern dialect of spoken Twac̊in̊.

[666writingcafe]

A Late Night Conversation

Which Occurs After Project Friendship Officially Ends And Everyone Except MC Leaves The Castle To Return To Their Respective Homes

"Hey, Diavolo," I call out as I'm reading a book for my potions class. "What's magical compatibility?" He glances up from his paperwork.

"What's the context?" he asks.

"It just says that there are several potions that are used to test magical compatibility but that consequences may vary." Diavolo gets up from his desk and walks over to the chair I'm sitting in, looking over my shoulder to read the sentence I just recited.

"I'd like to say that I'm surprised that it doesn't go into more detail, but stuff like that usually gets lumped in with beginner courses." He sits down in the chair across from me as I close my book. "Magical compatibility basically describes how effective different beings' powers can work together. It's usually tested between potential allies."

"I see. Do the people in question have to get along in order for their magic to be compatible?"

"Not necessarily, but it's preferred." He pauses. "Although there have been instances of individuals not being compatible with their friends, family, or significant others."

"Why would you need to test a significant other?" Diavolo appears to hesitate, and I'm not trying to make him uncomfortable. "It's okay if you don't answer." He sighs.

"It's quite alright. I'm just not used to being asked these sort of questions." He pauses. "There's a ritual that's reserved for royalty. Before two people are to be wed, they are asked to summon a ball of magic and allow their energies to combine. If the combined magic produces something positive, the wedding proceeds."

"And if it doesn't?"

"The one with the more chaotic magic gets punished."

"With death, I'm assuming?"

"That'd be too easy." Of course. I'm literally in the land of demons, where torture is commonplace.

"Have you ever performed the ritual?" He shakes his head.

"I've only witnessed it a handful of times. My father disappeared before I was old enough to even think about marriage."

"Would you want to?"

"Hypothetically, or actually?"

"Depends. Do you have different answers for each scenario?" He takes a moment to answer, choosing to shift in his seat instead.

"Until recently, yes. I know that I have to do it eventually, because at some point I'll become king and have to start thinking about producing a heir, but there hasn't been anyone I thought would be a good match."

"What changed?" Diavolo looks away from me, not saying anything. I open my book back up to resume reading, for if I continue this conversation, I might upset him, and he has been a gracious host through all this.

However, before I can get too absorbed, he states,

"Hold out your hand."

"What?"

"Please, before I regret doing this." Confused, I set my book down and do as he says.

"Close your eyes and imagine that you're holding an orb of light." I think I know what Diavolo is trying to do, but I don't know why he's doing it. I mean, we've been on more friendly terms since the restaurant incident, but that doesn't mean...

"Open your eyes." Surprisingly, a small but steady globe of glowing white light is floating right above my palm.

"Good." Diavolo quickly summons his own sphere of magic, darker than the most gloomy Devildom nights. He scoots his chair closer to me and positions his hand right next to mine.

My magic seems to grab his and drag it upward. They swirl around each other before merging together and turning into a kaleidoscope of color interspersed with what appear to be stars. As I observe the ebb and flow of this object, a wave of calmness wraps around me like a warm, comforting hug. One glance at Diavolo suggests that he's experiencing something similar.

After a while of silent watching, he closes his hand, making the kaleidoscope disappear.

"So?" I ask. "Are we compatible?"

"Yes," he whispers, gazing at the ground. He takes a deep breath in an attempt to gather enough confidence to look directly at me.

"MC, I..." He appears to choke on his words. "I've come to care about you very much." I nod my head, prompting him to continue.

"I worry about you a lot. At first, I thought it was due to concern about how you would affect the three realms, but when..." He momentarily trails off. "When the waiter called me to tell me what had happened to you, I was terrified by the possibility that you were dead. I didn't..." He swallows nervously. "I don't want to lose you."

"As an ally?"

"As a person." He pauses, glancing at the ground briefly before looking back up at me. "MC, I think I...I..."

"...developed feelings for me?" I finish. Blushing, he nods his head. If I were like Solomon, I'd definitely use this information as blackmail in order to get him to do whatever I wanted. I can picture the sorcerer salivating at the possibility of having that much power over someone, especially the future Demon King.

However, becoming powerful was never my intention.

A little teasing wouldn't hurt, though, would it?

I get up from my chair and stand in front of him.

"Oh, Diavolo." I smirk. "What am I going to do with you?"

"What do you mean?"

"You shouldn't fall in love with a small, insignificant human like me. What would your subjects think?" He senses the jest in my voice and smiles.

"They wouldn't believe you, you know."

"And why's that?"

"You said it yourself: you're a small, insignificant human. You've not even been properly trained in magic. There's no way you could seduce someone like me."

"And yet I have." I grab the sides of the chair and lean closer to Diavolo. "You know, even the most powerful beings can only resist temptation for so long."

"I know." He gently pinches my chin between his fingers. "Why are you doing this?"

"Because I want to."

"Really?" Diavolo's eyes darken. "You do know there are consequences to your actions, yes?"

"Of course."

"Be honest: do you care?"

"No."

"Good. Neither do I." In one swift move, he pulls me down onto his lap as our lips connect.