#me: uh hi i speak welsh can i—

[dymagamwedd]

ok i lied. no writing tonight. BUT i found out i'll get to go on a welsh language retreat in bangor this summer, and i'm so hype about that. gonna get to go yell in welsh at the ocean and the government's gonna pay me to do it!

[astronicht]

Hi I hope this isn't presumptuous, but so, that post you made about Tolkien making the lads leave their weapons outside the hall and CS Lewis thinking the hall was gonna get burned down by a lady who also wanted to kill herself... what's the historical precedent for that? Is there a trope in medieval lit where people like... do that? I ask because uh. I am obsessed with Children of Hurin and there's a scene where that like, happens. And I'm obsessed with that scene, and would love to know if there's like, cultural/mythic context that would enrich my knowledge!

OH BOY, sorry I'm getting to this late, it's been uhhh a summer, but one, this is a very good question!! And two, yes there is absolutely precedent, particularly in early medieval literature, and high medieval literature set in the early medieval (circa 500-1100 AD) past. I'll let someone else debate how often people actually historically locked their enemies into a hall and burned them, but especially in Old Norse literature (and if Fellowship felt like it leaned a little more on Old English literature, Two Towers, where Eowyn appears, felt a little more Old Norse) this is common. Off the top of my head, you've got many Icelandic family feuds ending in burning the whole family in their hall, like Njal's Saga (Old Norse), Attila the Hun dramas (yeah he's a big guy in the burning halls circuit, but actually not in the way you might expect) like his cameos in Volsung Saga (Old Norse) and Nibelungelied (Middle High German), and my vague recollection of a few Irish and Welsh versions that no search engine is giving up for me right now.

This, predictably, got long and slightly off topic.

Disclaimer: As usual, I should say I come from an Old English-centric background, and Old English literature is actually notable among all its neighbors for not burning down too many halls. Second disclaimer, all links are not proper citations, they just go to wiki.

Hall-burning in literature is, to my understanding, part of the concerns of a few early medieval cultures in which revenge is not only expected but in many cases legally reinforced and codified, and one in which conflicts could spiral to engulf -- figuratively, or literally and in flames -- entire families. Many medieval Icelandic sagas are focused on this exact type of destruction of whole families or friendship/community units. Most relevant of these to Eowyn, Two Towers, and the vibes of Edoras (since alas I am only partway into RotK and can't speak to Children of Hurin yet!) is Volsung Saga, which is set on the Continent, not Iceland, and actually has to do with Attila the Hun. As mentioned before, an incredible amount of stuff turns out to have to do with Attila. We will come back to him!

So, on the particular post you're talking about, a few people iirc have replied pointing out that the hall in TT is clearly supposed to be based on a hall from Old English literature, namely the hall in Beowulf, which famously did not actually get burnt down. And that's all true! I was not posting with much nuance; I was mostly having a joke at the expense of CS Lewis. However, I was also referencing a very very common trope in Old Norse/early medieval stories, and I personally think JRR was as well (AND I think Beowulf was also very consciously referencing the exact same motif anyway) (no one has to agree with me, a tumblr blog, on any of these points).

The thing about the hall when our heroes approach is that the scariest damn thing in that hall is Eowyn. Certainly not every hall-burning story requires a woman with no other recourse to set the fire (in fact, the "warrior band approaches unknown hall which might have a grudge against them" is a trope that can get you killed in a pretty homosocial environment, as I guess Aragorn at least was aware, being a big reader). Still, the presence of a woman who is swiftly running out of options does fit what I'd consider one of the or perhaps The best known version of the early medieval burning hall trope: Gudrun, who shows up in at least a dozen different texts in both the Scandinavian and the German language traditions, including Volsung Saga, a text which itself often gets paraded around as the basis of lotr (which I'm sure it is, in that JRR appears to have simply and very fairly based lotr on every piece of early medieval vernacular literature I can think of).

In a portion of Gudrun's story (which of course changes a bit in each retelling), after her first marriage she is unhappily married to Atli, who is none other than our main man Attila the Hun. After Attila kills her brothers for reasons (in one version, her father), seeing no other way to take the necessary revenge and no other way out, she kills the two sons she had by him, serves them to Attila for dinner, has Attila killed, and then sets fire to the hall with everyone in it. After this, she attempts to drown herself.

The self-destruction of this act is a really important beat, and has only gotten more-so as a comparison to Eowyn the further I've read into RotK (currently, I'm at the houses of healing after merry and eowyn take on the witch king). It's a lot clearer in the book than the films, for me, that Eowyn going off to battle was not so a straightforward empowering and/or freeing move, despite allowing her some agency, but more the one path she saw as available to her with which to die with honor (which was pretty much exactly what Gudrun was facing as well). Like Gudrun, whose first husband was a great hero but has died, Eowyn's romantic choice is a hero who is presumed dead (sorry Aragorn they did Not believe in your ghost skills). In fact, in some versions Gudrun does put on armor and fight with her brothers before they're killed. She kills Attila with her own hand, with the help of another man who needs to avenge a blood feud against Attila.

So while Eowyn didn't get forced into marriage to Attila Wormtongue (with apologies to both historical Attila and that one historical skald also called Wormtongue who was reportedly hot) and burn the whole place down, she's still trapped, and like Gudrun chooses destruction alongside her household.

Reading her arc feels so much like watching Tolkien write a fix-it for Gudrun. What if she got this one little chance, and this one other little chance, and this one more -- tiny little shifts in the narrative that allow her to get out, and not through fire, and not through death.

Anyway, this got away from me. I hope it added some context to the Children of Hurin arson case! Thanks for the ask

[arrowheadedbitch]

Okay, we were talking about multilingual Shawn in the discord server and I just wanted to share it with all y'all

So, we decided Shawn should be fluent in (I know it's an unrealistic amount, let us live) 13 languages so he can say he knows a baker's dozen languages

Which leads to everyone else going "what the fuck does that mean"

There are some languages the we know he knows in canon and some that are more unclear, and then of course the rest of the languages are just complete fanon

We mostly chose languages we failed to learn lol

So, here's the list we chose.

English, Hebrew, Thai, Hindi, German, Argentinian Spanish, French, ASL, Welsh, Russian, Italian, Polish.

When he tries to speak two languages that are even semi similar, he ends up speaking a weird conglomeration of both by accident

"he tries to hold a conversation and ends up switching languages everytime he doesnt know a word" -J

But these are the languages he can speak, and just the fluent ones at that!

I think he has a completely separate list of languages he can read and it mostly does not coincide with the ones he can speak lmao

"Someone calls him stupid a little *too* rudely and he is not in a great mood today so he starts cussing them out in all the languages he can to prove a point" -me

He absolutely forgets words in English and can only remember it in pretty much any other language

But he uses it to further his "dumb" persona, no moment wasted

When he forgets the word in English, he'll just say whatever word he thinks is probably closest and let's someone else correct him

Then he goes "I've heard it both ways"

" It was the- um *fuck, I can only think of the word in French, but they don't know I know french!* uh, jigsaw!"

"You mean *hacksaw,* Shawn?"

"...I've heard it both ways."

"NO YOU HAVENT"

A foreigner comes up to Shawn asking what the word for something in English is but he *also* forgot the English word for it so he's just sitting there staring at it like *Uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh*

He probably learned pineapple individually in every language he could get his hands on 💀

He probably learned curse words first lmao

He can say curse words in languages he doesn't even speak

Like "I can speak 13 languages, but I can say hello in 8 more and I can say fuck in 29"

His greatest accomplishment (in his eyes) is the acquiring of so many swears

"My goal is to be able to call my dad a bitch in every language known to man the day he dies"

#LetShawnSayFuck

Also we had to look it up and he wouldn't be on an FBI watch list for knowing 13 languages, but if the FBI ever found out he would NEVER know peace again (not that he leads that peaceful a life) because they would NEVER stop trying to recruit that man

He would be on a list labeled "PLEASE recrute this man, someone FOR THE LOVE OF GOD hire this guy, PLEASE" so not quite a watchlist but close enough

Now, to tag the people who were part of the convo! @j-snapdragon @thespiritssaidso and majesticrhyhorn but idk if they have a tumblr

[captjprice]

Soap with an Welsh f!reader? 😩 With him just trying his best to learn her about culture, language and country. Just loving her so much that he'll do anything for her. You can add anything I just want my Welsh representation ‼️

Johnny ''Soap'' Mactavish x Welsh!Reader

a/n: i did research. sort of. still, im sorry if its not perfect :( i also havent written fro johnny before so this is.. new

mentions: Fluff, Johnny's an arse, but it's cute

''So, yer basically speaking Elvish, that's it?'' A Scottish voice snaps you from your thoughts. A Scottish voice that belongs to a man you'd very much like to punch and slap. Knowing Johnny was.. dreadful, but even more so now that he seemingly discovered Welsh was the inspiration for Tolkien's Elvish. Your culture wasn't something you spoke about often in the group, mostly because you didn't think any of the members would bother with it.

But then there's Johnny, who seems to be almost too into it. He was constantly at your side, teasing and asking about it. You were wrong, however, to assume that it held ill intent. He was head over heels. Totally smitten. With you, the way you looked, the way you acted.. Ofcourse he was going to try and get to know you. Despite your annoyance, he didn't let up. He'll get what he wants eventually. 

''Not really Elvish then, Bonnie?'' He asks, leaning to you in the booth of the bar. Fuck, that nickname too.. You had to look it up the first time he called you that, thinking he was calling you by someone else's name.

''Not really, Johnny.'' You grumble in response, downing the last of your drink with hopes that it may numb the irritation and secret attraction for him. Sure, he was a cock, but he also had this irresistible aura around him that was intoxicating somehow. It made you want to linger around him, so you did just that with the hopes it wouldn't be too obvious. 

''So it's just inspired it, then, lass? Come on, talk to me.'' He presses, causing you to huff and shift towards him. ''Yes. It's just inspired. But it's a bit annoying because that's all people talk about when I tell them i'm Welsh.'' You mutter, which causes his smile to twitch slightly. Shit. Bad move, Johnny.

He clears his throat, scooting a little closer to you. ''Alright. Tell me somethin' interesting, then.'' Johnny says with a nod, staring at you. The way he's giving his undivided attention is making you slightly flustered, especially with the way he's looking at you. Good grief.. 

You move again, your hands placing around on your thighs as you think of something to tell him. Eventually you let out a little breath, ''Um, well, the language is very pretty. Cariad means darling, for example.'' Why am I telling him about nicknames? ''Uh, blodyn means flower.''

As you speak, Johnny's nodding along, seemingly very interested. ''We also have these things called love spoons, and they're just spoons with symbols engraved in them. It's like a token of love, sort of.. My mum always got me ones with flowers on it. It means love. It's kind of silly, but it's sweet.'' You say, smiling fondly at the memory. When you briefly glance up at him, he's practically swooning as he looks at you. ''Sounds adorable, lass.'' His hand rests on the free spot between you two, inching a little closer to your thigh. You smile softly, tilting your head. So he is actually interested. ''Uh, yeah, it's.. yeah.'' You reply, slightly unsure how to continue the conversation. Awkward silence washes over the two of you until Johnny speaks up again.

''So, you plannin' anything after this?'' He asks, his other arm gently snaking around your shoulders. You aren't sure if it's the drinks you've had, or that Johnny just looks so damn good that causes you to lean into him, shaking your head. ''Mm, alright, lass. How about we watch a little movie after, aye?'' His other hand places on your thigh, giving a soft squeeze. 

''Only if ya want to, though, No pressure.'' He adds quickly behind it, not wanting you to feel pressured– especially when intoxicated.

You nod, leaning your thighs over to his side, as if telling him it's okay. ''Sure. Aslong as you don't talk about that fuckin' Elvish again.'' You reply, and let out a little noise when Johnny's hand wraps around your waist to pull you flush against him. ''Or what, Bonnie?'' He teases, looking down at you. ''I'll shut you up.'' You blurt, realizing just how wrong it sounds until after you've said it. He snickers, his hands toying at the edge of your shirt. ''Oh, yeah? You will?'' 

You give an annoyed grumble in response, feeling your face heat up. That wasn't how you meant that comment. At all. You can feel Johnny lean in a little, his breath hitting your ear. ''Shut me up then, lass.''

You definitely did when you got back.

[thebibutterflyao3]

Day 26 - Prompt: Never @wolfstarmicrofic

January Daily Series - 768 words

<<<Previous Post OR Start Here

“You know what, never mind,” Sirius said, shaking his head. “I’m just going to-”

“Wait!”

Remus grabbed his hand and pulled him back before he could turn away and flee. He searched Sirius’s face intently. “Did you mean that? You actually like me? Not just half-fancy me or-”

“I don’t half-fancy you!” Sirius clapped a hand to his mouth and closed his eyes tight. This was top tier idiocy. His brother would take the piss out of him if he knew. After a full minute of mental gymnastics, he released it. “I mean, I do, but that’s not why I’m asking.”

When he opened his eyes, Sirius was startled to find Remus grinning. “What’s so funny? Am I a joke to you?”

Remus’s grin widened. “Not a joke, but it is a little amusing that the bloke who swans through a room like the fucking Queen is fumbling this so badly.”

“Swan? First I’m splashy, now I’m a swan? What is with you and these bird metaphors?”

“Uh-uh. No deflecting. You asked me to “try this,” Remus teased, flapping a hand between their chests. “You don’t get to criticise my choice of words.”

“Well, I'll take it back then! You and your Welsh nonsense can go suck rocks!”

Remus threw his head back and laughed. His body shook with his overwhelming glee, and if Sirius’s chest didn’t warm a bit at the raspy sound, he’d have shoved him away. It was a smoker’s laugh, half-cough and half-wheeze. Still, something about it stuck in Sirius’s ribs.

“Kick…not suck,” Remus forced out, holding his side as he caught his breath. “It’s ‘go kick rocks.’”

“Whatever, it’s a stupid saying anyway.”

“Oh, don’t pout. I thought it was sweet.”

Remus was using his own words against him. Clever git. Sirius fought back a smile and pointed at him with a narrow-eyed glare.

“Shut it. Do you want to or not?”

“Are you threatening me if I don’t? Besides, you need to make up your mind if you want me to ‘shut it’ or answer you. I can’t do both,” Remus said. He was entirely too smug now.

Sirius shook Remus’s hand off and threw his arms up in frustration. “Why are you so infuriating? It’s a simple fucking question, Remus!”

“Hmm, perhaps I can do both. I’d have to kiss you though, and I’m not sure that you can handle it in your current state of distress-”

One step forward, Remus’s wool jumper fisted in his hands, and a hard pull. That’s all it took to bring that snarky mouth down to his level. Sirius smashed their lips together, then shoved him away.

“Now who’s in a ‘state of distress?’” he taunted, smirking at Remus’s open-mouthed gape.

The bloke recovered faster than he expected and jerked forward. Remus wrapped his long, knobby fingers around Sirius’s neck and their lips crashed together violently. Sirius gasped into the kiss as a rush of adrenaline surged through his body from the pressure of Remus’s palm against his throat. He swallowed hard and gripped Remus’s jumper with both hands.

Remus deepened the kiss gently and the intensity shift of the snog made Sirius’s chest clench. The hand at his throat slid to the side of his neck as his thumb stroked along Sirius’s jaw. It was hypnotic the way his tongue mirrored his touch, slowly and purposefully softening their connection.

When Remus pulled away, he pressed two small kisses to Sirius’s lips, as if he was apologising for needing to breathe. He rested his forehead against Sirius’s and smiled, a genuine smile this time. There were no remnants of his previous teasing in that smile.

“Yes, if that wasn’t clear,” Remus said, nodding slightly. “I want to try this too.”

“Even if it’s hard? Long-distance is shite.”

Remus released a breathy laugh. “I snogged you in the middle of a pub with dozens of people staring at us. I think I can manage a little travel to see you.”

“Yes, well…alright,” Sirius said, unused to being at a loss for words. It was one thing to choose not to speak what was on his mind, and entirely another to have nothing in his mind.

“Although, I hadn’t expected an audience,” he added, lips twitching as scattered applause sounded from behind him.

Sirius hugged Remus’s waist and tucked his face into his chest. He was surrounded by arms that held him so carefully, as if Remus was afraid to break him. This man was impossibly lovely. He was everything Sirius needed, and in three days he’d have to leave him behind.

That’s future Sirius’s problem.

Next Part>>>

[denimbex1986]

Andrew: "It's where Jessica and I first met each other 10 short years ago - and a love story was born. Did we have a read through? I don't think so; I don't think we did. Do you remember meeting me for the first time? And if not, why not?"

Jessica: "I feel like it might have been that scene where we were all in Wales together - one of many - it was - "

Andrew: "The Welsh scene."

Jessica: "The Welsh scene; that one, yeah. Oh no, I should've thought more. When did we first meet?"

Andrew: "I don't - I don't actually remember meeting you for the first time. I remember hearing that you were - had an amazing audition."

Jessica: "...I only first got two scenes, I think."

Andrew: "Oh, really?"

Jessica: "...in the audition, Stephen, who wrote it, Stephen Beresford - amazing - and Matthew Warchus, they said: "You know, the thing about Sian is that, you know, she's a real woman." They were like: "She's real; like, she exists.""

Andrew: "...isn't she just?"

Jessica: "Isn't she just real?...when I read, and then I got sent the whole thing, and just - obviously just fell in love with it."

Andrew: "We had an amazing time."

Jessica: "Oh, we really did."

Andrew: "Yeah."

Jessica: "I can't believe it's been 10 years; it was so nice - lovely."

Andrew: "And really unusual for - for, for a um, a film to have so many characters in the same scene; we were just so chatty the whole time - that's what I really remember. Just loads of actors there the whole time. There wasn't a lot of money because I suppose there was so many actors to, to be paid, you know? There was no - there was no sense of, you know, people going back to their trailers or anything like that - it was very, um; that's what my long-lasting memory of it is; it's just that everybody was talking all the time and the AD's had to go: "Shut the fuck up.""

Jessica: "And also if you think about the cast, it was quite starry in terms of like, you know - "

Andrew: "Yeah."

Jessica: "Bill Nighy, Imelda Staunton and - "

Andrew: "Yeah."

Jessica: "Dominic West and Paddy Co - "

Andrew: "Yeah."

Jessica: "But it never felt like any kind of stars were in it - "

Andrew: "No."

Jessica: "Nobody was like: "I'm going back..."... "

Andrew: "No."

Jessica: "Nobody felt like they were separate..."

Andrew: "It would have been a bit weird, and particularly because of the subject matter, if everybody was like - "

Jessica: "Yeah - "Leave me alone.""

Andrew: ""Where's my astrologist?""

Jessica: "Loads of people still come up to talk to me about Pride and how much - "

Andrew: "Me too."

Jessica: " - they loved it..."

Andrew: "But I think for a film like that - you know the way we watch movies; you don't have to watch a movie in a movie theatre, and I think for a film where people feel like they're in danger still - in countries where it's still um, uh, illegal to be gay, um, it - it's like a little gift, you know? And I think what's so wonderful about it is that it's a film that isn't about - it's about gay people, but it's not about their sexuality; it's about their humanity, and it's about what they did, and I think so many films can be kind of reductive or just talk incessantly about, uh, gay people's sexuality. And of course there's a place for that, but it was lovely because it's about these people who - it's about solidarity, and it's so incredibly moving. I don't know anybody who doesn't, uh, have a little cry at the end.

And I loved the character that, uh, of Gethin because um, I'd just finished, I - at that stage I was doing Sh - a lot that was very Sherlock heavy at the time, and I was really interested in playing a kind of character that was a bit more humane, and Gethin's a very shy character; he doesn't speak a lot but has a huge amount of pain and he - he's somebody who's estranged from his family, and I just was very, very, very hungry to play that kind of part. So, I was enormously, um, invested in it right, right from, from the beginning.

And I kind of knew that it was gonna be special, but I don't think anything prepares you for the - the music in it is so, um, important. And of course you don't have that when you're, when you're reading a script but that - I just think all those - I, I just think magic happened. I think, I think um, magic absolutely - absolutely happened, yeah."

Jessica: I think it's maybe Andy in the American Office says something...he says: "I wish that they told you when you were in the good old days.""

Andrew: "Oh yeah."

Jessica: "...that's so nice, and I think that's one of those jobs when you go - I think we knew though, a bit."

Andrew: "Yeah, I think - I think we sort of did. Yeah, and then we had all that sort of - we went to the Toronto Film Festival, had a couple of drinks there Jess."

Jessica: "It was great fun."

Andrew: "We did."

Jessica: "But Stephen's an amazing storyteller...the research that went into the film...he met Sian, the character I play - "

Andrew: "Yes."

Jessica: "...when I got the job, he'd said: "I'll put you in touch with Sian"...and when you book these conference calls, you have to put a limit on the time thing, so they put three hours...we got up to - and they cut us off because we got to a three hour thing - "

Andrew: "Oh, wow."

Jessica: " - because she just had so many fascinating stories; she's such an interesting person."

Andrew: "Yeah - amazing person..."

Jessica: "She came out to Toronto with us - "

Andrew: "She did, yeah. Yeah."

Jessica: "...and loads of them that are in - I don't know if people know but in that scene where we're marching - "

Andrew: "Yeah."

Jessica: " - there's loads of original LGSM members playing supporting artists behind us in that, and they're all there as well."

Andrew: "Yeah, yeah. They're all in the background; they're all, they - they flag, the banners."

Jessica: "Actually I think the real Jonathan is next to Dominic, I think - "

Andrew: "Yeah."

Jessica: "...so nice."

Andrew: "You know we live in a kind of identity culture where everybody's like: "I'm this and I'm that, and you're that and we're this", and everybody's, you know, talking about how, you know, we all sort of separate each other in a, in, in a way - I think there's something a bit insidious about that in our culture at the moment. And, of course it starts out with these two communities that absolutely culturally are so dissimilar from each other, and then you realise that, that, that they - that they have an awful lot in common, and that they kind of need each other, and um, and that beautiful thing that Stephen always said is that prejudice doesn't survive proximity.

Meaning that you can have a prejudice about somebody, but if you're approximate to somebody - if you're near somebody - that you, you go: "Well that person is just annoying. It's not because of their sexuality." You know what I mean? It's, it's - you go - you can see...And he makes jokes that are so - I think it's the gags - "

Jessica: "Yeah."

Andrew: " - I think that's the reason - "

Jessica: "But I also think it's the lack of sentimentality - "

Andrew: "Yes."

Jessica: " - I think in the wrong hands, that story could've been told in a way - "

Andrew: "Yeah."

Jessica: " - that you just: 'Oh.' You know, they bring out the -

Andrew: "Yeah. Yeah."

Jessica: "...and he was so great, and Matthew as well, the director - "

Andrew: "Yeah."

Jessica: " - was so cutting in those moments. The perfect example is when they sing "Bread and Roses" - it's cut by the husbands storming in - "

Andrew: "Yeah, the violence."

Jessica: "...it's like it's not allowed to be too much, so when - those moments are earned, like when the coaches arrive that is an earned moment - "

Andrew: "Yeah. Yeah, yeah."

Jessica: " - that you allow the sentimentality of it. I think Stephen would be a great director, actually...there's a bit where I walk past my two kids...and they're plaiting Freddie Fox's hair. And I go: "Leave him alone, he's not a girl's world", and I've got these two pints and I'm brining them to the group. I think one of the first takes I did I was like: "Leave him alone...", you know, really scruffing their - and he's like: "You're a mum, you see them all the time; like you just - "

Andrew: "Yeah, yeah. Don't be nice to them."

Jessica: "Yeah, don't be nice to them."

Andrew: "Yeah. But I think that's Stephen's great, great, um, uh, gift as a writer is that he's so full of heart, but he portrays heart in a way that, um, that, that; that's so realistic in the sense that it's not all necessarily all huggy huggy - people can be *rolls eyes*, you know, eye-rolling about the people that they love."

Jessica: "So many young people come up and say it helped them come out to their parents...they would watch it with them and then feel able to say "I'm that as well", you know - "

Andrew: "Yeah."

Jessica: "...there are so many countries in the world that aren't able to have pride events because obviously it's still illegal there. So there's like one step forward, ten steps back, but also the fight of LGSM, and the miners, that they had in the 80's - it was a different kind of Pride then. And because of them, it's now allowed to be much more of a celebration and less about the activism, although I'm sure it's hugely - "

Andrew: "Yeah."

Jessica: " - political even now."

Andrew: "As they say, the war's never over, but yeah, I think that's so true. And like, what was so disgusting, looking at the, the media at the time - the way, um, gay people were spoken about in the media was shocking. I mean, that's what I always say, that, you know, of course parents would be suspicious or upset if their parents - if their children - came out to them because what they were being fed by the media was that, that people were; they were going to be diseased, and they were going to be the way AIDS was spoken about - "

Jessica: "Those adverts were allowed on television."

Andrew: "Right, yeah."

Jessica: "It's just absolutely baffling."

Andrew: "Absolutely disgusting - and the, the horrible way that gay people were spoken about. But of course it breeds suspicion and it just shows; I don't know, it just, it shows if, if our media is, is allowed to, um, do that, then, um, you know, it has terrible consequences."

Jessica: "...I think I remember the DVD of Pride in certain countries didn't mention LGSM, so it said it's a group of miners...they were like: 'We don't talk about the gay bits.'..."

Andrew: "Do you know, it's so strange - you know, actually with All of Us Strangers, it was really str - wonderful this, this, this year because they used to do that kind of thing in - with things that had sort of gay content, and they would sort of pretend that they were two roommates; like they try to get away with it or they wouldn't mention it. I think like they sort of trick someone to go buy a ticket at the cinema, and it's like: 'Oh Jesus - well, you bought the ticket now, you can't leave.' But what was so wonderful, you know, seeing, doing All of Us Strangers this year was that they absolutely sold the romance, and that was, that was a wonderful, you know, ten years on from have, having done another kind of - kind of landmark gay film, it was really nice to see how that changed; that pe - that people go: "Well, this is what we're gonna do." There's an audience there, people aren't as scared to maybe go to the cinema, which; a lot of the reasons, you know, uh, people, don't watch - "

Jessica: "...it'd be interesting to see how long it took them to kind of sell it...I'm sure they had a few struggles distributing it and maybe like with the DVD cover having to be amended, maybe that's why - such a shame."

Andrew: "I think that's true; I think, I, I think it's kind of developed this huge, um, affection for it and this huge kind of cult status for want of a better word. Um, but I think initially, you know, box office wise it wasn't - it didn't match the affection and the - that, that people had for it. It won like some awards but I, you know, some people still don't know about the movie. And um, you know, I just think to watch the movie is to love the movie and um, and, uh yeah, yeah - I really think that. And not just because Jessica's so brilliant in it; there are other people in it. And what was your favourite - um, and what, um, uh, scene to film?"

Jessica: "...I actually really loved our scene in the hospital, and then going outside with Dom. I think that was just -"

Andrew: "Oh yeah, gorgeous."

Jessica: " - when he says: "You - don't go waste it", you know - "

Andrew: ""Don't waste it", yeah."

Jessica: "And I used to love that because people would always ask Sian: "Did that conversation really happen? Did they say: "You could be more than this?"...and she'd go: "It didn't happen - it happened more than once."..."

Andrew: "Yeah."

Jessica: " She's so dramatic..."

Andrew: "Yeah - dramatico."

Jessica: "They were always like: "Find your potential", you know - "

Andrew: "Yeah."

Jessica: "What about yours? Do you remember..."

Andrew: "Well, there was a scene that I - when I have to go back to see my parents, so my character is estranged from his parents - I had to go back and I had; I knew I had this big pressure because I had to say the words "Hello, mum" and um, uh, he hasn't seen his mum in fifteen years, and I knew that I, I; it was a - quite a private, uh, ambition, to be able to, to go: 'I know that I can't just be 'Hello, mum',' and I had to, to just get that right. And again we, it was quite unusual to shoot that scene because it was just me on my own and usually there was millions of us around. I was like: 'Oh God, this is my bit. I have to - I have to make this right.'

And um, and I knew - Matthew's such a good director, and I think I did maybe one, only did one or two, again, one or two takes and he was like: "Don't worry, it's okay - we have that. We have that." With Matthew, you just know - he's not like a big gusher, but he; you can tell when you've affected him a little bit and, and I was really glad to be able to honour that feeling that you - that a lot of gay people have which is to - front it, but actually have a little wobble in your voice as well. Yeah, people - people feel that I think.

So yeah, everybody knows the absolute genius of Jess Gunning now; everybody knows it. It's so exciting because - I mean a lot of people know already because she's been a sort of a stalwart of our stage and screen for so many years, but like now everybody knows how amazing and brilliant and beautiful she is. So it's so exciting, and the fact that we get to, um, experience that together is just so magical, isn't it?"

Jessica: "...I love playing like a game of 'Little did we know' - "

Andrew: "Yeah, yeah..."

Jessica: "...even on the set of Pride, say - little did we know that it would; that we'd still be talking about it ten years on - "

Andrew: "Yeah, I know."

Jessica: " - we would be friends, I would know both your sisters as well as I do - "

Andrew: "I know, I know."

Jessica: " - like - it's actually just so lovely. I just love it."

Andrew: "...there's a big group - a big group of friends; Stephen and everyone."

Jessica: "Yeah, everyone is just so - and it's bonded us all together. Little did we know."

Andrew: "Yeah."

Jessica: "...With Baby Reindeer, we were lucky to get all seven scripts given to us for the audition process, which is quite rare in television, because so often you get sent like one or two - "

Andrew: "Absolutely, yeah..."

Jessica: "...it was like: 'Oh, this is just amazing.'"

Andrew: "I remember you, I remember you, uh, during the audition process, it was - you did a few auditions, am I right?"

Jessica: "Like about five, yeah."

Andrew: "I remember; I was trying to be diplomatic there, yeah. And you just had a real feeling - I remember you had a real feeling that you were like: 'I - I understand this.'"

Jessica: "...I remember talking to you and our friend Ben, and I was literally like: "I know how to do this." And funnily enough, thinking of 'Pride', Nadia Stacey, who was hair and make-up designer on Pride - one of the notes we got from the audition process was that I wasn't looking like I was 42 enough - "

Andrew: "Yeah."

Jessica: "So I rang Nadia, and I was like: "If you were designing this, how would you do it?" And she was like: "Why don't I just do it? Why don't I put a wig on you -

Andrew: "Yeah, yeah..."

Jessica: " - and you tape yourself and send that through?" It's funny because when Richard tells the story, he says: "Do you remember when you got that wig from that joke shop?" and I'm like: - "No, it was like a - ""

Andrew: "From an Oscar winning make-up artist!"

Jessica: "...I've never done that before really. I know obviously for you with Ripley, you probably didn't - did you audition for Ripley? You probably didn't need to."

Andrew: "No, it came - it came out of, out of the blue and I was like: "What the -?" And like you, I got the whole, I got the whole eight episodes in one, and I read them on a transatlantic flight. I was like: 'This is really, really extraordinary - extraordinary writing.'"

Jessica: "And in paper copy as well?"

Andrew: "Uh, I got, got, got paper copies of - I have to - "

Jessica: "Did you not have them on an iPad?..."

Andrew: "I think it was - maybe I was slightly re - reimagining that. Like that's, that's kind of - just eight scripts; "Hello, I'm checking in please." Yeah, I probably read it on an iPad; but I made my notes. But I love - I have to say I like a hard copy of a script; I don't know why."

Jessica: "...I really do."

Andrew: "Do you?"

Jessica: "I think it's being in the the theatre - "

Andrew: "Yeah."

Jessica: " - we like to have it there, because it feels real then."

Andrew: "Do you know the radio - you know radio, you know when you do a radio play - do you know a little trip, a little, a little, uh, uh, tip for when you - they're obsessed when you do radio, for people who don't know; you, you read it, but if you don't want to hear any paper noise, you scrunch up the page and then you open it up again and it does - it's kind of rigid so the, so it's only the voice that one se - that one hears. Never the paper."

Jessica: "...Actually, not to be too cheesy but Andrew played a massive part in terms of how I approached going into the part, because I remember we had a chat and you - I'd got the part; I'd got the job, and you were like: "Go for it now." It's making me emotional...I'd fought for it; sometimes when you fight for it and you get it, you think: 'Oh no, now I've gotta do it' and it makes you scared - "

Andrew: "Yeah."

Jessica: " - enough to properly delve in."

Andrew: "Yeah."

Jessica: "But actually, after you gave me that chat, I really did properly kind of go: 'I've gotta..." - you know, that final voicemail she leaves, I always just connected with her straight away after reading that..."

Andrew: "My God, I've said that to you - I just find that just extraordinary; how moving that was just from your voice, just like - and actually, I think I found it kind of so moving because it was obviously the character, but I could feel your own input into that, you know - your own passion and that. Can I ask you like - I suppose because you're so different to the character, and I suppose I have it a little bit with Ripley, I have like; you know, I think they're both characters that are very far away from who we are as people - do you find that people are going: "Oh gosh, you're really different" when they meet you? Because you are."

Jessica: "...they all go: "I'm terrified of you", and I always find - "

Andrew: "Yeah, yeah."

Jessica: " - that fascinating, because I never saw her as terrifying but then - of course she is...my laugh is still quite similar...I went to a comedy show the other week and my friend was like: "Don't find it too funny because people might - the comedian might be scared away."..."

Andrew: *laughs* "Oh yeah that - "

Jessica: "What about you with Ripley? Did you know the character or did you kind of find him?"

Andrew: "Well actually, what was weird about the character was that; the thing that I had to discover was that there's a - the discovery is that there's some part of him that is actually kind of unknowable, and once I kind of knew that, and to go: 'Well, there's kind of a blankness to that character that you can't ex, exca - excavate.' And I think there are people in the world who are like that, who are just very far removed from; that just don't know themselves, and go - and we do it ourselves, you go: "I have no idea why I behaved like that." I mean, we are a little bit of a mystery to ourselves, but I think he's an unreliable hero, and some part of it was just to sort of embrace the fact that there, there is some part of him that actually, um, is just - there's a chasm sort of there a little bit, and that then became sort of enjoyable to, to play.

But I found it difficult because, um, and in, in a strange way I know exactly when you say, when, when someone says: "I find - I find you really scary", like the murder parts of Tom were only like a little bit out of a year; it took a year to film that and a lot of the, the, the, the, the scenes in it are kind of quite domestic; where it's a person who's travelling around, or someone who's got like, um, awkward in a social situation, or is in a restaurant like - it's not murder, murder, murder, murder, murder the whole time. And so I didn't fi - I, I didn't find him really that scary or like, feel like I had to do when I was playing Moriarty; I felt like I had to do a lot of kind of stuff where I was like: 'I need to be really dark.' But actually I think the darkness of him is, is that he behaves in quite a impassive way at times, when actually you should be completely active in some ways. Do you know what I'm saying? Like that he's - "

Jessica: "I was gonna ask you obviously because you're such a funny person IRL, you know the bit where he doesn't - the pen thing; like when he's complimented on the pen and the one, the time the guy doesn't compliment his pen - "

Andrew: "Mmm. Yeah."

Jessica: "Was that in the script or was that you? Like the slight annoyance of you being like - "

Andrew: "Yeah, yeah."

Jessica: " - I love it when you're like *makes face*: 'Oh you didn't' - everyone else did and you're like: "Thank you."..."

Andrew: "...I actually can't quite remember what the answer to that is. I imagine it was me; - that's just my own genius...."

Jessica: "...there's a sweetness to that - "

Andrew: "Mmm."

Jessica: " - I found that actually the most human - "

Andrew: "He's quite a sweet character."

Jessica: " - because it was like he was going: 'Oh, he didn't say it was nice - and that's why I like to have it.'"

Andrew: "Yeah, yeah. Well that's the thing; he's a human being, you know, and with these, with these people, you know with certain characters, they call them monstrous; I always think that's quite tabloidy to call things, people - call people monsters, because human beings do monstrous things, but they are nevertheless human beings and that's our job is to kind of, in a way your first, um, priority is to not - is to kind of protect the character that people might go: "Oh that person is a psycho" or "That person is deran -" - whatever those things are, you - I just find them so incredibly helpful. And I think that's what was so beautiful about your, your portrayal of, in, in Baby Reindeer, was that, was, was just how um, oh well, just like the way - because that's the way you are in real life; it's because you're just so empathetic and kind, you know?" *they laugh*

[pfhwrittes]

holy shit. hi hello, there’s so many of you now!

uh. um. okay super quick introduction time, i guess?

hi my name is p. i’m 28. i’ve been lovingly referred to as a welsh raccoon by @/391780 on account of the fact that i’m usually awake in the middle of the night through to the early hours of the morning for my timezone. don’t worry about it. i’m basically nocturnal and i’m afflicted with insomnia on a regular basis.

i use they/them pronouns, but i refer to myself as both nonbinary and transgender. it should be pretty fuckin obvious that i love and support all my non-cis siblings but just in case it isn’t, i love you. you’re welcome here. just don’t be a dick. as a side note: i’m firmly in the camp that you can use whatever label or as many labels (or no labels!) as you want and your gender presentation is your own damn business. just please let me know if i misgender you, i don’t want to be that person.

oh, uh. shitty behaviour in my notes or askbox won’t be tolerated. if i see that shit, congratulations you get blocked. we’re gonna be nice here god damn it. there’s no “well i tolerate everyone uwu” here, if you’re an arsehole you get blocked. simple as that.

speaking of reasons to block people, i love and support my darkfic writers. i write mostly fluff, unhinged smut or aus but i reblog (and cherish) darkfics on a regular basis. if that’s your line in the sand, do yourself a favour and block me now. i’m not going to stop reblogging or enjoying reading darkfics any time soon.

oh and technically all my current projects (see my masterlist) are on hiatus as i literally had my tits chopped off last week. in reality, i’m just writing whatever pops into my head while i heal up. apparently that’s a lot of smut right now, both the cisgender and non-cisgender kind. it’s been fun learning that.

i don’t really do requests or anything like that BUT if you send me an ask and it gets the brain worms dancing, who am i to say no?

[raedear]

@the73rdpostscript said something about soap opera au Nicky and Joe and then my brain spat this out:

'Okay Joe,' Nile's voice was firm and Joe really should have been paying attention, but Nicky had just slipped in the studio doors behind her, and he was trying to catch his eye. 'I need you to be angrier than you've ever been before in this scene. We need you furious. Hands shaking, veiny forehead, the works.'

'I don't have a veiny forehead!' Joe snapped, his attention neatly drawn back to Nile.

'Just like that but angrier,' she said, nodding cheerfully. 'Let's get this done before lunch, okay?'

Nicky was doing everything he could to stay out of sight behind the cameras, but Joe was patient. He couldn't avoid him forever. Eventually, he'd have to sit in his seat right in Joe's eyeline.

'Can we get this moving?' Keane said from right behind Joe's shoulder, making him jump. 'I don't want to be here all day.'

'We'll start when the crew is ready,' Joe said, far calmer than he felt.

'Crew's ready when you are I think,' Nile said, glancing around herself. 'Oh no—Nicky? Are you ready?'

'... Yes.'

Nicky slunk out from the shadowy corner behind the boom store, shuffling his way to his seat with none of his usual confidence. Joe bit his lip at the sight of him, choking on everything he wanted to say.

Nike smiled at them as Nicky took his seat, script and pen in hand.

'Okay, guys,' she said, clapping her hands together lightly. 'Let's keep it respectful. Places please.'

There was the usual pre-shoot shuffle. Joe and Keane found their starting positions in the office set, the cameras found their focus points; everyone not essential to the scene melted into the background as much as they could. When the room fell completely silent, Nile nodded again.

'Action!'

Keane slammed his hand on the desk, and Joe didn't have to act out flinching in response.

'Explain yourself,' Keane barked, glaring at Joe. As always, Joe was glad he didn't have to affect an accent for his role. Keane's Welsh accent sounded exhausting to keep up. 'How could you do this to me? To us?'

There was a whole speech right on the tip of Joe's tongue. Nicky's words, memorised and rehearsed and ready to go.

But, beyond Keane, just out of sight of the cameras, Nicky was watching him. He was rubbing at his mouth, and his eyes weren't as wide or as bright as they usually were when he watched Joe work.

'I had to,' Joe said, and Nicky sat up straighter, pen twirling in his hand, getting ready to write down everything Joe said. Joe hoped he would, at least so he'd have a chance to remember it after.

Keane frowned.

'I had to do it,' Joe said again, looking past Keane to look Nicky directly in the eyes. 'I had to because I love you. I didn't do it right, and I made you feel like I didn't, and I'm sorry. You're everything to me, and I'm sorry if I made you doubt that for a second. I won't make excuses, but I hope you'll let me explain myself. Even if you don't, I wanted you to know. I love you, and I'm sorry.'

Joe's hands shook. Not in the way Nile had wanted them too, but they did all the same.

There was a long silence. Even Keane seemed too shocked to speak. And then—

'That's not what I wrote, you dick,' Nicky said. He sounded stuffy, like he was about to cry. Joe could see the shine in his eyes from halfway across the room, and he laughed as he crossed the set towards him.

Nicky met him halfway, dropping his script and pen to the floor in favour of wrapping his arms around Joe's waist.

'I love you,' Nicky whispered, before Joe dragged him into a kiss, both of them laughing and both of them crying and both of them so happy it felt like they'd never come down.

'Uh… reset please? No rush you two but we do actually need to film this scene today.'

Nile was laughing at them. Keane was grumbling something Joe couldn't hear. The makeup team was giggling.

Joe gave them all a thumbs up, and kept on kissing Nicky.

[mixology-expert]

*Grif stops pacing and looks back at Mix.*

I… I can try…

*He clears his throat and then speaks in a voice that’s higher pitched and bubbly sounding*

Like this maybe?

*He shakes his head, his ears pinning backwards, and goes back to talking normally*

No, that doesn’t sound right. Uh… she does have a Welsh accent like me, though.

-@gryphonanon

Huh.. can't say I know anyone like that.

[thiswaycomessomethingwicked]

I am currently writing a fic that takes place in Rohan a few years before the events of LotR.

I decided I wanted the characters to occasionally speak in Rohirric. Except, there's no Rohirric in LotR. No problem, I thought. I'll just come up with some Anglo-Saxonish sounding words and phrases. Not a lot - just enough to sound convincing.

Two days on, I'm coming up with verb inflections and conjugations, subject and object pronouns, sentence order, verb placement, vowel length, rhoticity, regional accents, use of the glottal stop, and a list of which verbs are irregular and the (hilarious) reasons why. All based on real Germanic languages, cus I think that's a good starting point.

I fear this may prove to be a terrible mistake. There's going to be a scene somewhere in my story like that bit in 'Monty Python and the Holy Grail', where the guard corrects Brian's verb conjugation.

Sigh.

The things we do for our art.

I am very impressed! That is way more than I'd ever do (I'm not a linguist and I'd want it to be perfect so uh...you see where the rub is). The anglo-saxon shit I riff is as far as I'm willing to go so I'm very impressed!

Starting with germanic - particularly older germanic languages is a good start. Like Tolkien used Welsh as the launch pad for his elvish languages because he liked how it sounded. Also I think some finnish? But don't quote me on that.

So long as Rohirric sounds rolling like hills they live on, as Aragorn described it, I think you've pretty much free reign to do whatever tickles your fancy. A very liberating thing with Rohan is how much world building can be done because Tolkien didn't really invest in it how he did his other peoples and lands.

Even the names he took pretty directly from anglo-saxon and Scandanavian literature without changeing much. (Grima, Eomer, Theoden etc. - all from different sagas and poems. For some he modernised the spelling a bit e.g. þeodnes became Theoden - but both mean prince/lord etc. But others, like Grima, he left as it's found in the Icelandic sagas.)

Anyway - hats off to you, that is some serious dedication. I do hope it won't derail the writing too much! I'm curious what your story is going to be about - prewar years hold such potential.

And yes hahaha gods the things we do for our art.

[am-i-obssed-probably]

Imagine Remus knowing French because he went through the public school system. He doesn’t tell anyone because he forgets that he knows it sometimes. When Sirius starts confessing to Remus in French Remus is shocked before he schools his face and offhandedly tells Sirius he’s in love with them. Sirius splutters and panics a little before nodding. “Yeah, uh, yeah. I li-love you too.” Sirius nods before sitting down beside James and conversing with him about what just happened.

Remus and Regulus are in the library studying together and James comes in and they start talking in French and Remus is just offhandedly listening. Until James says he loves reg and reg saying I love you too. He gasps and looks at them “Sirius is going to kill you James.”. James looks confused and splutters before regaining his composure. “What are you talking about Moony?” “You and Regie, you guys should really be more careful. Honestly anyone could’ve heard you.” Remus shakes his head looking back at his book. James looks even more confused and Regulus is like, the fuck, before figuring it out. “Remus, do you speak French?” “Oui monsieur. Anybody who went through public school system knows at least a little but my mom made me do French emersion so I can hold a conversation pretty well.” Remus says looking up at them.

Remus never tells anybody else but they all find out the day before OWLS and everybody’s eating breakfast in the great hall. Remus is coming in with the marauders and drops his stack of books and study notes. He starts swearing in English and than French and some welsh and everyone’s staring at him confused. When he finally stops he notices the staring. “Remus you never told us you were trilingual.” Sirius states and Remus shrugs “mom was welsh, dad was English, and mom thought French immersion would be a great idea.”

[whumpzone]

Linden & Colton - 18

(masterpost)

and so the slow process begins

CW: pet whump, dehumanisation, discussions of intelligence

-

Pet- Colton, Colton didn’t realise he’d been asleep until he woke up. He had dreamt of nothing. How he had slept after the stress of yesterday was beyond him.

He suddenly saw Master in his room, a place he’d never been before, stood in the corner waiting for him to wake up and face his punishment. He cried out, pulling himself up and raising his hands protectively.

But-

He blinked. It was a shadow. The gap between the old wardrobe and the wall. Tall, thin, quiet. Just like Master. But Col was alone and he let out a long breath.

Master had probably heard him yell, though. He’d be here soon. So Col wasted no time and swung his legs over the side of the bed. He turned back to tuck his little teddy bear Chu under the covers, where Colton felt it was safe, and headed out into the corridor. Here, he was fair game. He didn’t know why Master never entered his room, but he had stuck to it vigilantly so far. It only made Col feel more aware of his own vulnerability as soon as he stepped through the door.

Master was downstairs, doing a puzzle in the local newspaper, and he looked up as Colton approached. His face brightened into a smile, the biggest he’d ever seen. Master never smiled like that. Col had to fight against the urge to freeze or drop to his knees.

“Good morning, Col,” he said, showing all of his teeth.

Oh, god. Master wanted him to reply. He wanted words, now. He finally knew that Col had been hiding them all this time, and he wanted to delve in, find out how he could twist them and use them to stroke his own ego and entrench his slave’s subordination.

Or perhaps he just wanted to hear his Pet wish him a good morning for the first time. Stop fucking overthinking.

“Good morning,” he ducked his head in reverence, “Master.”

“Wow. I still can’t believe you can speak. I’m so- I’m so proud of you, Col.”

What? Why? “…Please forgive me for not speaking sooner.”

“It’s my fault,” he sighed, which made Col tense up even more. “I just- wow. Where to start? Well, come, sit, have breakfast with me. Cereal?”

He gestured at the box already on the table. Colton obediently sat and took it in his hand with almost no trouble. Master noticed, and nodded happily. He was certainly pleased. It still made Col very uneasy, but he did seem to be doing something right.

He had never heard Master speak in such an excited tone, before. But he was silent while Pet- Col- ugh- made himself his breakfast. He could feel Master’s eyes on him. He was allowed to take the first bite, and then the interrogation began. It was obvious Master had a lot of questions.

“So- okay, first, what made you speak, yesterday? I never asked.”

Colton chewed and swallowed. It helped his throat feel a little smoother, although it was still very rough from disuse. His voice was small and unsure. “You… I saw- I saw Jaffa. At the bottom of the stairs. But I didn’t mean to- I’m n-not accusing you of anything, I know you wouldn’t hurt her I just, I wasn’t sure if you had… seen her, Master.”

He flicked his eyes up to Master, to gage his response. He had just accused Master of being a bad pet owner. Of being neglectful of Jaffa. Master seemed to parse this information, and then smiled.

“She does blend in, doesn’t she? Too bloody well sometimes. I’m so glad you stopped me. And that was so, so kind of you Col. Well done.”

He just nodded, and turned his face away. He supposed…. Master saw it as him looking out for Jaffa, rather than undermining his intelligence. That was a lucky escape for him. He knew that with his old master, any sign of insubordination would have been swiftly beaten out of him.

“Colton,” Col looked up. Master looked scary. Why was he smiling that like? What was he thinking? Col didn’t feel any closer to understanding him. “I know this is new, and I know you’ve not spoken in months. I won’t make you do loads of it, okay? We can take it slowly.”

“Thank you, Master,” he hazarded, although he didn’t see why Master hadn’t just forced him to speak from day one, if he wanted it this badly.

“God, but it makes me realise, I know so little about you. And now- I can ask. And if you want, you can reply. I’m really happy.”

“There’s nothing to know, Master. I’m just a Pet,” he mumbled. The spoon faltered in his hand. Cutlery was still a challenge.

“I know you’ve got a busy brain in there,” Master pointed a slender finger at his slave’s head, to emphasise his point. “I know you’re bursting with thoughts and ideas.”

This made Col look up, properly. An accusation like that came with dire consequences. “No, n-n-no, I’m not, I promise, I exist to serve o-only, I’m just a dumb Pet. Yours to use as you please.” Spoken exactly as his old master had taught him. Well- he would have been belted for stammering. He was out of practice.

Should he kneel? Well, yes, he should, but was it right, when he knew Master liked him on the furniture? But, god, he had to prove his point, he couldn’t let Master think he was starting to rebel, or forget his place.

Bitterly, he thought about how he knew this would happen. This was why Pets didn’t speak.

“Whoa, okay, it’s okay. I didn’t mean to scare you. I just meant- you’re not stupid, are you? I can tell. And that’s a good thing.”

Col just stared at his hands. He wanted to pause time, step out of his body, and float away. Somewhere without any questions, or expectations, or constant riddles. He was stupid. He knew that much.

Master’s voice brought him back to reality. Glancing at him, Col saw his smile had grown even bigger. His skin prickled.

“I think you’re Welsh.”

“M-Master?”

“You definitely are. You’ve got an accent. You’re Welsh, Col. Wow, now I’m kind of sad. Like, how on earth did you end up here?”

What was he implying? “I’ve… always been a Pet,” Col tried, but it was clear he didn’t believe himself, and from the way Master’s eyebrow slowly raised, he didn’t believe him either.

Colton had always been dimly aware that there was an other him, who had taken up the before-time. He was the one whom his old master had had to train so effectively, he was the one who had all the bad thoughts and urges. Col knew he didn’t start as a Pet. Or else his old master wouldn’t have had to torture him like that for so long.

He was a ghost in Colton’s brain, and Col didn’t know if he was locked away or completely dead. Were parts of him still hiding somewhere, curled up in a place that old master couldn’t ever reach? Or had he been completely laid out and hacked to pieces, until only Col remained. Thinking about it made him want to burst into tears. Some nights, when his mind was loosened by sleep, he felt like he missed him so much.

. . .

Linden didn’t push it. He knew most Pets didn’t retain any memories from before their conditioning. He shouldn’t have asked, really. Just… the realisation that Col had a background, he had lived before becoming the trembling man before him, made Linden ache.

He still wanted to curl up whenever he thought about how long he left it before he realised Col could speak. He hadn’t wanted to push him, there were a myriad of ways he could have been made permanently mute, and he had pretty much fallen into a routine at this point. But the knowledge that all this time, Col was patiently waiting for the chance to talk, probably wondering why Linden wouldn’t let him- oh, christ. He was so embarrassed and ashamed.

He suddenly had so many questions all on the tip of his tongue, that he couldn’t think where to start. He also really didn’t want to bombard the poor boy. But still… just a few, surely, wouldn’t hurt?

“So obviously I’ve named you Colton, but, if you actually do have a name, please tell me. We can use that one instead.”

Colton shook his head. “My name before was- was Pet.”

“Pet?”

“Yes, Master. Or bitch, or, um, mutt. Or toy.”

He hid it well, but Linden could see the shame in Col’s face. At least that meant he realised how fucked up it was.

“Those aren’t fu- those aren’t names,” he growled. “That’s just plain cruel. You don’t deserve that. Do you like being Colton? It’s not too late to choose another name for yourself, love.”

Col waited until he had swallowed down another spoonful of cereal before he spoke. That seemed good, to Linden. He didn’t feel pressured to reply immediately.

“Colton is a nice name, Master. It’s not my place to have likes or dislikes but I, uh, I am happy with it.”

Another quick glance at his face. Linden was getting used to them by now. Out of the corner of his eye he could see Jaffa rolling around.

“Likes, dislikes, they’re fine. Don’t worry about that. But if you like the name, then it’s yours until you say otherwise. Oh, and- don’t worry about calling me Master. Honestly.”

Col stopped chewing, his shoulders hunching up suddenly. “I’m sorry, M-, uh, sir, sorry. I didn’t realise I shouldn’t, I’m sorry, I know- know that’s not an excuse. I’m sorry.”

“Hey, it’s okay, it’s okay,” he soothed. Sir was fine, he decided. From the way Colton had panicked, he didn’t want to push it any further. “You didn’t know.”

“Thank you, I’m- I’m sorry, sir.”

“You’re fine, you’re good. You’re doing great with talking, Col. I’ll put the kettle on.”

He had long learnt to pick his battles. Hearing Colton talk about being a toy to be used made him fucking sick, but he could tell that sentiment was deeply, deeply ingrained. He knew a recital when he heard one. Those weren’t his words. They were a tiny window into whoever had fucked him up like this.

. . .

Master was sir now, when Colton spoke. Col could learn that. But it didn’t change anything, right? Master still wanted him, didn’t he?

-

as usual, the first half of the taglist:

@newbornwhumperfly @whumpadump1939 @firewheeesky @whump-me-all-night-long @captainseconds @grizzlie70 @unicornscotty @lave-whump @princessofonward @cupcakes-and-pain @bumbumbea @whumpfigure @yet-another-heathen @secretwhumplair @whumps-up @as-a-matter-of-whump @getyourwhumphere @itzagoodthing @whumpymirages @soapparentlyilikewhumpnow @zipadeedooda-drabbles @penny-for-your-whump @briars7 @legallylibra @angel-stars @loyds-of-registry @tears-and-lilies @badluck990 @rosesareviolentlyread

@vickytokio @neuro-whump @thingsthatgo-whump-inthenight @whumpsy-daisies @control-whump @theydy-cringeworthy @starnight-whump @cursedandtired @jo-doe-seeking-inspo @justabitofwhump @glamrockgregory @rippedjeansandfadeddreams @genesissane @justbreakonme @addyez @httyd-chocolate

[exploringxshadows]

@knockknockinginthedark​ suffers to go their own dark way...

█ ▌Dr. Alastair Young was sitting up straight at his desk, or as straight as his misshapen posture would have him sit. He took in a deep breath to steady his nerves, looking for something to do with his hands. He fidgeted with paperwork on his desk, setting it to one side of the table and then the other, then back where it was before. He organized the bottles and antique tools behind him on a small curio cabinet, then polished the glass. And he spent an awful lot of time fussing over which books to place at the head of his desk to show what he had been recently reading. An encyclopedia of medicine plants? Journals from the operating theatre? An updated history of chemistry? In the end, he decided all three had a place in a nice, neat little pile.

He was waiting for a very important client. He wasn’t a medical client looking for a tonic or an examination, but rather a member of the constabulary: a Mr. Dmitriy Miroslav. He was all the talk around town thanks to his good work with solving a recent grizzly homicide, but this time around it seemed as if Alastair was the one expected to assist him. The Scotsman worried himself over how to pronounce his name, even practicing it a few times under his breath, as he waited. And as the clock struck on the hour when his visitor was to arrive, he pushed back his chair to prepare himself to briskly stand and shake his hand as soon as he entered, all the while making sure his shirt and jacket were smooth and his suspenders weren’t even the slightest bit crooked. From outside appearances, Dr. Young was a man who kept every single one of his vibrant orange hairs in place and never left a smudge on his clothing. He was the very picture of a neurotic, but giddy perfectionist.

Finally, he could hear the sounds of steps coming up the staircase. His maid must have let the man in at long last. Alastair sat with a silly little smile on his face, nervous but eager to make a good impression.

And as soon as the door opened and he saw the constable enter, he stood up from his chair just as he had rehearsed...and promptly smacked his foot on one of the legs of his desk, stumbling forward an inch before straightening his back again. Every goddamn time.

   ╣ “A-ah, excuse me, you must be Constable Miroslav. You’re right on time.” His voice wavered a little bit, forming a high-pitched squeak as it broke before he swallowed his embarrassment and cleared his throat, extending a hand in greeting. He had a curious accent: a mixture of heavy Scottish and Welsh, but with a very precise dialect that showed he tried his best to speak clear and professional. “Dr. Alastair B. Young, chemistry professor at the University of Medicine. It’s a pleasure. Please, uh, sit and make yourself comfortable. Can I get you something to drink? Tea, water, brandy?”

[lyallblacklupin]

@ekaterina-popova​ : hey! I found out that lupi means wolves and I instantly thought about Italian Remus. Can you write: Sirius flirts with Remus in French and then Remus answers him in Italian but sirius didn't know that he knows Italian so he melts

Sorry for writing it quite late but here you go! <3 Hope you like it!

Remus enters into their apartment—His and Sirius’ apartment.

“Honey, I’m home!” He calls out, and throws his key into a bowl he calls ‘something fancy china Lily bought.’

“You know it’s getting really cliché now,” Sirius appears in the corridor and Remus feels like he can’t breathe anymore because his boyfriend is wearing a red gypsy skirt with yellow frills on it, “so can you start saying something else? Like ‘Je suis chez moi, mon chérie.’ Or ‘votre bébé est à la maison.’ Huh?”

But Remus is spluttering, growing red in the face. He can tell that Sirius is speaking French on purpose, and it is a lot to handle. The most terrible has happened because Sirius has figured out why his boyfriend is at loss of words.

“Oh, you’re blushing so hard! Merlin you are in love with this skirt, aren’t you? My Remus Lupin has skirt kinks!”

“Shut up! It’s just because you are half naked, and you know how I get when I see you shirtless.” To display his nonchalance, he walks past his boyfriend and loosens the tie of his collar.

“Yeah, I remember fifth year when I came close to you while being shirtless, and you practically cried in front of me because your ears felt hot!” He doubles with laughter, his damp hair sprayed the faint droplets of water on Remus, and it is getting really hard for him to sit straight on the couch. The real question is: Why is he keeping himself from kissing his boyfriend senseless? Because Full moon is in two days, and he has to restrain himself from wrecking him. He can’t lose control even after how much Sirius has insisted that he can deal with it but Remus highly doubts it.

“Sirius, I’m trying to be sane here. But clearly, you are not helping.” Remus clenches his teeth under his mouth, and keeps his hands under his pockets.

“So you do like this skirt, don’t you?” He is grinning his Sirius Black grin with his dripping wet hair sticking to the space where his shoulders meets his neck. He is dazzling, the sexiest human ever to exist in Remus’ life. Remus stares in awe as his eyes travels from his sharp jawline to the muscles stretching from the base of his collarbone as he tilts his head a little backwards. Remus can’t tell if he is doing this also on purpose because his brain is fuzzy. He feels like he is drunk, and he is. He is drunk on Sirius Black. Then his eyes descends to his tattooed chest, and before they descend any lower than his naval area. He jerks himself out from the haze.

“Fuck,” he murmurs, “Sirius, just don’t talk. I-I can’t deal with you right now. You are too much today.”

“You know if someone else would have been in my place, they’d be offended but I swear to Merlin and Morgana, I’m so on fire right now, Moony.”

“Padfoot!” He glares at him but receives a bark of his favorite laughter, and he tries not to slip from his grip, “Okay, where did you get the skirt, anyway?”

“Lily! She said it was quite over-fitted for her.”

“Sirius, it’s a loose skirt with frills on it.” But Sirius makes a noise of disapproval from the back of his throat.

“Yes! And Lily is very pregnant, and please It’s called a gypsy skirt, lover boy.” Sirius comes close, and wiggles his hips in most obscene way that Remus hisses and then bits the inside of his cheek. He can tell that he has started to look at Sirius like he is the most delicious meal walking around him. He catches the whiff of the cologne he bought him for his seventeen birthday. And Remus thinks he is going to die with the heat between them.

“And!” Sirius is now barely at a distance from him. Those mere inches were close enough for Remus to feel the puffs of Sirius’ breaths on his bottom lip as he continues, “Would you still not want me if I come in a pencil skirt in front you?” Those arousing whispers set Remus’ body on fire because damn it! He isn’t a fashion designer but he knows fucking pencil skirts.

“Sirius! Please…” He cries, slipping away from the dangerous territory of Sirius’ charm which happens to be inversely proportional to Remus’ self-control. “It’s two days in full! And I’m driving crazy here! You are driving me crazy here because all I want is to eat you like you are my dinner for tonight.”

“Moony, by all means, I’d be lovely for your cannibalistic appetite.” Sirius makes a show of opening his arms to him, “Have me, darling. I’m all yours.”

“Urgh! I can’t! Just go—I can’t lose control—I just can’t!”

“But Moony—“

“No means no. Vai nella tua stanza! I want to fucking breathe.” He doesn’t realize what he has said even after it has been apparent for solid fifteen seconds that Sirius hasn’t left the living room as he is told. Remus looks up from the book he has suddenly started reading. Of course, he is pretending to read. How can he read when he feels like the argument isn’t finished yet. Remus looks up and freezes because Sirius is wide-eyed and open-mouthed.

“Did-did-you just…Did you just speak…?” Remus holds back a laugh because the surging confidence and sexiness that usually radiates from the Great Sirius Black seems to have dissipated into thin air. And then Remus is able to put a finger on it.  

“Italian?” He cocks an eyebrow, feeling dominant all of a sudden as he stands up to walk towards Sirius, “Stai arrossendo troppo!”

“I thought you speak Welsh!” Sirius splutters, his cheeks glowing red as if someone he has grown microscopic extra bunch of red roses beneath his snowy skin. Remus was at a brink of lunging at his boyfriend to take him in a fierce kiss. He was almost going to devour him the rest of his night. The ideas are surging into his mind, and so is his blood in his veins erratically. The wolf is going to wake up.

“Dwi hefyd yn siarad Cymraeg, Sirius darling..” Remus replies as he bows his head dramatically, “But! amo l'italiano…è sexy, che ne pensi? Huh, love?” It is fun to watch Sirius flustering beyond pink color. The sight suddenly hits Remus with Hogwarts nostalgia as he recalls the era of his and Sirius’ mutual pining over each other, and a memory plays in head.

“Sirius, do you want—you know—like if you want to, ever—not necessarily this time—but do you fancy going to Hogsmeade with me, like alone?” Remus asked, and tried to ignore the cold sweats under his arms and lower back.

“Huh? Really? I mean—I-I…like I mean…uh—“ Sirius kept chuckling like he was either short of breath or coughing because of the cold in the courtyard.

“Oh my god, are you blushing?” And he was, and then did a little too much more.

“Uh—Beetroot juice, that’s all.” And with that he scurried away with the sea of the fourth-year students.

Remus really gazes at Sirius with a solemn look. A feeling of warmth and innocence surrounds him because Sirius’ thick eye brows are knitted together and a look of plea swimming his silver eyes, while the cheeks were still flushed pink. He looks endearing than enticing.

“Ah, screw it.” With that, Remus crashes his mouth against Sirius’ which immediately response with a moan. The kiss is soft and passionate at the same time but as they both deepens it, Remus thinks he is able to set the whole world on fire. He tries not to lose himself completely but the scent of Sirius doesn’t elevate his restraining power. In fact, does things otherwise.

“Oh mio, I love you!” Remus gasps when Sirius’ mouth travel to his neck.

“Fuck! Say that in Italian, you git!” Sirius protests and pins his boyfriend by his wrists above his head. And Remus quirks an eyebrow on the boldness.

“Oh, te ne pentirai, amore mio,” In a swift motion, he twists in hands to clutch Sirius’ wrist, and pushes him on the couch. The view is very much appealing. The red skirt loosely tugging on Sirius’ waist, his half-dried hair coming into his eyes, parted lips, lustful eyes, thoroughly flabbergasted. Remus smiles deviously, “Don’t forget that I’m the one with real animalistic instincts, not you, lover boy.”

[prouvaireafterdark]

Pass

This post I made about Nile not wanting to learn Italian kind of blew up so I wrote a ficlet about it

Also on AO3!

***

The thing they don’t tell you about joining an army of immortal guns for hire is how many fucking languages they expect you to learn.

“But why?” Nile asks, staring down the barrel of a list of languages so long she hasn’t even heard of some of them. “And don’t say ‘because I said so’.”

Andy suppresses a smile as she settles deeper into her seat on the couch beside her. Joe sits in the armchair across from them, totally absorbed in his sketchbook.

“Because they’re useful,” Andy replies.

“You’re telling me Welsh is useful?” Nile asks incredulously.

“It is if you’re in Wales,” Andy shrugs, and Nile can’t help but wonder if she’s just fucking with her.

“You’re full of shit,” Nile accuses lightly, and Andy smiles for real this time. Nile glares at her a little, which only makes her laugh. “You’re an asshole.”

“Okay, okay, look,” Andy tries next, traces of a smile still on her lips as she leans forward with her elbows on her knees. “I’ll make you a shorter list, but you are gonna need to learn a lot of these because if you get separated from the team somewhere you don’t know the language, you’re fucked.”

Nile sighs in resignation. “Point taken,” she says. “Let me guess, you want me to start with Russian?”

“Cute, but I was thinking Italian, actually,” Andy replies.

“Uh…” Nile says, glancing briefly over at Joe. “Pass.”

“What do you mean ‘pass’?” Andy asks, her brow creasing in confusion. “You already know French and Spanish—Italian would be a walk in the park for you.”

She’s right, of course. For someone with Nile’s language profile, picking up Italian would be a breeze.

The thing is, there is no fucking way Nile is learning Italian.

“Yup,” she nods. “Still gonna pass though.”

Andy’s look of confusion only grows deeper, but before she can say anything, Joe and Nicky’s bedroom door creaks open. They both look up at the noise to see Nicky walk out of their room wearing a pair of soft-looking sweats and a t-shirt Nile is pretty sure is Joe’s.

Despite his singleminded focus on his sketchbook moments earlier, Joe’s eyes track Nicky instantly as he walks the short distance to the kitchen through the living room. The expression on his face somehow manages to be fond and hungry at the same time, the way it often is when he looks at Nicky.

“Nile—“ Andy starts, but Nile holds up a finger for her to wait a minute.

“Just wait,” she whispers, sure her point is about to prove itself.

Andy sighs, but indulges her.

There’s a clear view into the kitchen from the living room, so Nile can see Nicky grab a glass from the cabinet before he approaches the fridge. When he bends over to peek inside, Joe tosses his sketchbook on the coffee table and gets out of his seat.

Nicky is leaning back against the counter and sipping a glass of water by the time Joe is standing in front of him. Nicky smiles and sets the glass down, expecting the kiss Joe presses to his lips as he crowds him further against the chipped formica.

When the kiss ends, Joe brings his lips to Nicky’s ear, his fingers tugging pointedly on the hem of Nicky’s t-shirt. His voice is pitched low, his words only meant for Nicky, but not so low that Nile can’t tell he’s speaking Italian.

Nicky flushes deeper shades of pink the longer Joe murmurs in his ear, his lips parting in obvious desire when Joe slips his hand beneath his shirt to press it flush against his lower belly. He says something back, also in Italian, and Joe winks at him before setting off for their bedroom, not sparing Nicky a backward glance. When he recovers his senses, Nicky follows hot on Joe’s heels, his glass of water abandoned on the counter.

“That,” Nile says when their door slams shut behind them. “That is why I’m not learning Italian. Every word of Joe’s romantic dirty talk I already understand is a word I wish I didn’t and I am not going out of my way to learn more.”

Andy shakes her head and laughs at her. “Alright, kid,” she says, her eyes sparkling with amusement. “Maybe we’ll start you with Russian after all.”

[hacash]

Lost in Translation

(approximately 2.5 seconds after requesting a ‘Colin & Dani, language’ prompt this just popped into my head and I couldn’t resist. Mild allusions to smutty talk in a foreign language.)

-

Colin’s yelp is loud.

“C’mon mate, it’s just a piddly bit of Welsh,” Jamie scoffs, unaware of his shock. The rest of the lads are joking around, oblivious to what’s just happened, and Colin can’t bring himself to look Dani in the eye. “I thought you were ‘Mister Cymru’ and all that.”

“I...uh....” Colin struggles to concentrate, which is difficult when he’s struggling to handle shock and embarrassment and arousal all at the same time. “Hang on a second, Dani...”

“I said,” and then Dani repeats it, repeats the phrase without so much as batting an eyelid, without so much as blushing, in front of their entire team no less. “It’s asking how to find a taxi, no? I’m going to Swansea for a few days and I want to be able to speak Welsh while I’m there.”

Well, alright then. That’s all very well and good. That’s a nice gesture, and Colin appreciates the sensitivity shown by Dani towards his home country.

Except that is absolutely not how you ask directions to the taxi rank in Welsh.

Of course, it could just be that someone’s told Dani a dirty phrase - a wickedly dirty phrase, if Colin is being honest - as a joke and left the poor lad to work it out himself. But one look at Dani’s sparkling eyes, a grin playing around his lips, tells him it isn’t that at all.

Colin should have known something suspicious was going on. No-one goes to Swansea for their holidays.

He shouldn’t be shocked. When you think about it...it’s not as if...look, he’s seen Dani on enough nights out, forever disappearing midway through an evening with women or blokes on his arm at will, to know he does alright for himself. Fuck, just one look at Dani should be enough to show he does alright for himself! It’s just that...well, it’s a bit difficult to reconcile the young footballer who sings along to Disney songs and once cried for three days solid over a dead dog with the man who’s just suggested...well, that to him.

Also, if Dani says this to the wrong hotel operator in Swansea he’s going to get his lights punched out.

“Give me a second,” Colin says, pretending as if Dani hasn’t just propositioned him in front of their entire team. Is this how they flirt in Mexico? It’s not as if - well, if he’s being bluntly honest with himself, he’s spent enough time on the pitch and in the showers with Dani not to contemplate such a proposal in great and enjoyable detail, he just never expected to be surrounded by a locker-room full of men when he did so.

“Don’t tell me, bruv,” Isaac calls over, “the great Welsh nationalist struggling with pronunciation?”

“Shurrup...” 

“Come on,” Dani says, his eyes wide and cherubic. “Surely you can translate just one phrase. It’s not that hard, surely?” Colin swears his gaze flickers down momentarily.

Oh fuck off.

Colin’s cheeks are now bright red as he flings an unrepentant Dani a glare. And Dani just beams back at him, his expression wickedly innocent and his eyes sparkling in a way which makes Colin want to...well, take Dani up on his suggestion for a start.

And correct his pronunciation into the bargain.

“Yes,” he said finally, “that’s the right way of saying it, Dani.”

“Ah, I thought so. Gracias, amigo!”

And with that, Dani swans off to get changed, leaving Colin to seriously reconsider everything he’s ever thought about his teammate. And to get himself somewhere private before the rest of the lads notice...well, how distracted he is.

(He gets his own back the next day during training by yelling some choice, hastily-researched phrases in Spanish the next time Dani gets the ball. Dani goes bright red and accidentally lamps the ball off the pitch, knocking a cup of coffee straight out of the unsuspecting Nate’s hands.

Colin tells Coach Lasso they were terms of encouragement. Which, technically speaking, is true. Technically speaking.)