Glimmer @marvelous-glims - Tumblr Blog

Inconspicuous Relationship

Summary: Everyone in the family thinks the two of you hadn’t tied the knot and keeps playing matchmaker. He, being the troll he is, decides to roll with it

He told you it was going to be fine. To leave it to him; his plan was going to be flawless. Flawless his ass. You’re dying from second-hand embarrassment and Jason’s not helping with that shit-eating grin on his face.

“You know, Gotham Park is apparently considered one of the prettiest in the city during all four seasons.” Steph starts, sending you a look across the dinner table. “Wouldn’t it be so romantic to go there, especially for a first date?”

You beg to the higher beings that your cringe isn’t visible in your smile as you hummed in agreement. You’ve been enduring this since the beginning of the family dinner where the siblings kept dropping obvious hints for the two of you to get the ship sailing. And Jason being Jason, went along with it all the while ignoring the secret glares you give him. For Pete’s sake, he was even playing footsies under the table!

“Didn’t you say you had a plan?” You hiss under your breath as Tim and Dick, surprisingly, voice out in agreement how Gotham Park was the last place to go on a date, their expressions speaking for the horrors they’ve seen there.

“Yeah? Why? You don’t like how my plan’s going so far?” You scowl, kicking his foot away when he prod your foot again with his. He gives you a cheeky smirk in response.

Checking and seeing Steph getting into a squabble with the other over the apparent controversial site, you lean closer towards him.

“You call this a plan?”

“If not, then what is it?” He chugs the water in his glass, waving a hand towards them. “Besides, over half of them are grown ups. They’ll get it one way or another.”

If you’re not dying from embarrassment, you’re dying from stress. It’s clear as day that he’s in it for the chaos while you’re simply wanting to rip the bandage and get this over. Just when you’re about to snap at him, you catch Damian staring at both of you across the table. Quickly, you compose yourself, the same smile you had on for Steph now directed at the fourteen year-old.

“What’s wrong Damian? Need something?”

He doesn’t say anything for a minute, his gaze blank and revealing nothing. You can feel sweat accumulate in your hands, the urge to swat at the man beside you getting stronger at the coughs he lets out that’s meant to cover his laughter.

“I simply don’t get it.” The teen then takes a bite of his steak and thoughtfully chews on it. “Why can’t Jason simply ask you out for a date when he’s completely smothered for you?”

Cue the room going completely dead silent. Well, sans Duke pounding his chest from choking on his food. You would’ve, at least, chuckle at had it not been for you steaming up.

“D-Damian? Damian buddy?” Dick calls out from his seat, his voice slightly pitched. “What are you doing?”

“I can’t be the only one that’s getting tired of them beating around the bush, Richard. I’m simply spelling it out, that’s all.”

“Damian-“

“No, Damian’s right.” All eyes set on Jason, who puts the silverware down and leans back on his chair. “It’s not like I’ve been really meaning to hide it anyways so,” he turns toward you, “what do you think of Saturday, 1:00 PM at your favorite place you like going to?”

…You can’t do this. This man and his theatrics; you wanted to scream how he had already asked about it last week. Tell them they’re getting scammed, it’s not even the first date-!

But Damian’s words keep echoing in your mind and the fact Jason knows that you know that it’s true is messing with you so badly. It prevents you from trying to calm everyone down, the family up and arms at the “horrible” confession Jason gave as he merely shrugs and asks what else he was supposed to do. You further baffle them when you muster a nod, your hands still covering your very much burning face.

Later on, when Bruce comes back from the supposed emergency phone call, he pulls you and Jason to the side. It was one thing to hear Bruce Wayne giving his approval and blessing (for some reason) for you two’s relationship. It was another when finding out this whole thing was indeed staged by both Jason AND Bruce to get back at the rest of the family for a prank that occurred last week during a joint mission as the older man asked the younger if everything went accordingly.

You decide to give Jason a piece of your mind once the two of you got home which led to him to follow you around and ask you to reconsider calling him by his full name for the rest of the week.

mostly-imagines

La Vie en Rose

jason todd x fem!reader

aka jason wildly preferring you over everyone else

4 in 1 blurbs

warnings: standard batfam arguing etc.

You sit curled up embarrassingly close to Jason on the couch, head on his shoulder. The team is still in their gear as they filter into the living room, masks and helmets discarded in scattered locations between here and the cave. The mission had been fairly simple and with all of them together it only took a couple hours to finish up.

As you waited, Alfred had kept your mind busy in the kitchen while he taught you how he makes his famous ice cream from scratch.

The clamor of the heroic party’s return had made itself known sooner than later, and you think your face must have displayed your emotions nicely because Alfred nodded you away with a small smile and no second thought.

You’d walked into the living room, weaving through the mess of siblings until a hand snuck out on your left and grabbed your wrist. You barely had time to look at him before Jason pulled you down to sit next him on the sofa. He wrapped an arm over your shoulder, pulling you in and leaving virtually no space between you. His armor sits heavy against you, but a welcome weight on your shoulders.

Tim plops down on the couch across from you and you can just make out a bit of blood on the side of his head, aptly accompanied by an irritated look sprawled across his face. It’s not enough blood to be concerned about—not for them—but you can venture a guess that whatever they were up to shouldn’t have called for any injuries and his pique is likely directly related to that.

Though Dick’s goading aura might have something to do with it too, as he comes crashing down next to him a second later, partially sitting on Tim’s cape and pulling him into an awkward angle.

Nightwing doesn’t seem too perturbed by the younger vigilante’s agitation and curt manner of pushing him off.

The others are too caught up in chatter to pay much attention to you, and you can be certain that’s why Jason takes that moment to press a kiss to the side of your head. He lets his lips linger there for just a second as you lean into him.

Alfred’s own entrance is the only thing able to subside the flurry of conversations skirting around the room.

“A job well done,” he commends with a nod. “A selection of ice creams awaits you in the kitchen.”

He gives you a sly wink before retreating back through the swinging door, leaving Stephanie and Cass to practically trip over themselves trying to beat each other to the kitchen. Robin follows after unhurried, mask still on, with his hands behind his back.

Jason kneads your thigh before pushing himself up to stand. He turns back, looking down to you. “What do you want?” he asks softly.

You hum, "Just strawberry's good."

Tim sits up, "Can I—”

"No, you've got legs,” Jason grumbles, stalking off to the kitchen.

Dick barks out a laugh and you bite back a smile.

Tim looks absolutely aghast.

“That’s such bullshit. You know, he used to be nice.”

“No he didn’t,” Dick laughs, shaking his head. “Not since you’ve known him.”

Stephanie stumbles out of the kitchen then, the door hitting her back on the way, as she mutters a curse behind her. You can vaguely makeout Jason grunting something back before she rolls her eyes.

Steph looks at you, shaking her head as she returns to her seat, “You live like this?”

You shrug, “He’s nice to me.”

“Yeah, I bet,” Tim grumbles.

morsartis

Nightwing x Civilian!Reader

Warnings: None. Its fairly gen. No actual romance I just had this thought that made me laugh.

The sound of your living room window being forced open was what woke you. Heart hammering in your chest as your hand went to the baseball bat you kept tucked away by your bed. Years of living in Gotham had made you hypervigilant of what sounds your apartment made and where. You knew for a fact that your living room window had been locked and that the sound of snapping wood had to have been the frame being forced open. The window lock itself was flimsy and you had brought it up multiple times with the landlord only to be shrugged off. Now you weren’t sure whether to feel petrified or triumphant that your concerns had been justified. Throwing back the blankets you stood slowly and raised the bat as you began creeping towards the open bedroom door. Out in the hall everything was still pitch black and you cursed yourself for not at least checking the time on the alarm by your bed. Your late night intruder hadn’t bothered to close the window behind them and the pale light of the moon and soft glow of the streetlights below gave you just enough light to see. A figure had collapsed on your couch, a hand dangling from where it awkwardly cushioned a head. As you cautiously shuffled closer you could make out the reflective glow of blue along the fingers. Your poor heart nearly collapsed in relief when you realized it was Nightwing, the resident vigilante of Bludhaven.

When you had moved to Bludhaven a year ago you had assumed it would involve a lot less vigilante sightings than Gotham. Looking down at the battered and bruised figure of Nightwing sprawled across your couch you had to admit, this officially made Bludhaven weirder than Gotham. If only because in your years of living in Gotham you had never had a run in with the resident gaggle of vigilantes. Taking in his sweat soaked and disheveled curls, the half curl of his body that suggested a good amount of pain, and the way he was actually too big to fit on your admittedly small futon with how his legs dangled off the other end you sighed.

A bird was a bird you supposed, Gotham looked after its own and while you had abandoned your home for Bludhaven the Gothamite still inside of you insisted you had a duty to look after the local vigilante. Setting the bat against the back of the couch you walked gingerly towards the window to assess the damage. Like you feared the lock had been snapped in two and the sizable crack that ran along the wooden frame was enough to tell you it was busted. You’d be living with a busted open window for the next few weeks while you scrounged around for enough money to cover repairs. Not even bothering to close it and risk damaging it further, you turned back towards your uninvited houseguest to check his own damage. In the light cast from the window you could make out a dark purpling bruise along the side of his face spanning from his temple to his jaw. Wincing in sympathy you shuffled closer and began gently prodding at his ribs. When he didn’t immediately shoot up in pain you returned your attention to his face. His mask was still firmly in place and you were grateful for it. You did not want to get dragged into the nightly struggle. Hoping that the bruising along his face was the worst of his injuries you tried to think of what to do next. You did not want to know what or who had managed to do that to the man. Instead you reached over and began unfolding the blanket you kept on the back of the couch. His suit left little to the imagination and you didn’t think it had to be very warm in the night chill now that he wasn’t actively fighting for his life and the lives of others. You could admit that despite the fact he was injured he had a nice figure. But that wasn’t something you’d be bringing up. Like most people you’d seen and heard about Nightwing enough to know how the media loved to sexualize him. It had to be exhausting and you weren’t about to add to it. Gently laying the blanket over him you wondered if he’d been exhausted or simply lost consciousness. There was no way for you to check without waking him and you dreaded the thought enough you weren’t about to even attempt it. Scrubbing an exhausted hand over your face you turned towards the bathroom where you kept your medkit. Closing the door mostly behind you before flicking on the lights you caught sight of your haggard appearance. You were exhausted from work. The dark circles under your eyes were a badge and testament to your workload. You missed Gotham’s much cheaper rent. Back in Crime Alley you hadn’t had to work as much as you did now. Sure the area had been Crime Alley but rent was cheap and so long as you kept your head down no one had bothered you much. Nudging open the cabinet underneath the sink you collected the medkit and swiftly left the bathroom. Now wasn’t the time to get lost in thought. Setting the kit down on the coffee table in what you hoped was Nightwing’s line of sight, you next turned your attention to the kitchen. As if on autopilot you shuffled in and grabbed what you needed to make a couple of sandwiches. You worked in silence as you stacked them on a paper plate and grabbed a water bottle from the fridge. Like most people you had a few waters in the fridge more for looks than an actual drink. Taking them to the coffee table you set them down next to the medkit. Sweeping one last concerned gaze over the vigilante still passed out on your couch you took a deep breath. You had done everything you could and you had at least enough confidence to know he wouldn’t die on your couch if you left him be. Satisfied he wouldn’t die in his sleep you left Nightwing be as you shuffled on back to your room and the sweet siren’s call of your warm bed.

In the morning you awoke half convinced it was a dream garnered by too much Lifetime TV. Especially when you saw the bat sitting against the nightstand. It wasn’t until you sat up that you had a feeling it wasn’t a dream. Your medkit sat at the foot of the bed. A place you would never leave it. Wide awake with adrenaline you shot out of bed to check if Nightwing was alright. What greeted you was an empty living room, the blanket folded and placed where it always was, no food or water left on the coffee table. Your second clue that it hadn’t been a strange dream came when you wandered into your own bathroom. Condensation clung to your mirror and one of your towels was definitely missing. Looking around further showed that he’d clearly had a shower before he left and you wondered exactly how tired you had to have been not to hear the water running considering the only bathroom in your apartment was in your room. Shaking it off you brushed your teeth and wondered why Nightwing had felt so comfortable showering in your apartment with only a flimsy bathroom door between you. Was he just that confident in his ability to sense someone sneaking up on him? Not that you would have even attempted. There were certain boundaries even you wouldn’t push and going out of your way to learn someone’s secret identity was one of them. Not that you thought you’d even recognize him. Grabbing the keys to your mailbox and a dog treat you locked the apartment door behind you. Like every morning you were going down to the ground floor to grab yesterday’s mail. No vigilante was going to ruin your morning routine.

No matter how bizarre.

Your routine was something you shared with your neighbor directly above you. Though more specifically you shared the routine with his dog. Your neighbor usually went down at the same time as you did every morning to grab yesterday’s mail and take his adorable puppy for her morning walk. To say you adored that dog would be an understatement. She had the ability to happily and shamelessly distract and derail your thoughts every time you saw her. She was the sweetest, happiest, thing you had ever seen with her wiggling body and lolling tongue. Truth be told, of which you would never admit, you could pick Haley out of a line up before you could pick out her owner. It was incredibly embarrassing but there was really nothing about Dick that stood out to you other than his dog. Sure, he was an attractive man, as your other neighbors liked to gossip, but Haley had always had your full attention. You hadn’t even realized how long he’d been your neighbor until he’d gotten Haley. Your direct nextdoor neighbor had practically laughed herself to tears when you admitted it to her. Cackling about how of course you’d notice the puppy before Dick ‘sex on legs’ Grayson. Which you couldn’t even argue against.

As always Haley was sitting by Dick’s feet and promptly burst into happy wiggles and pants at the sight of you. Dick glanced up and then he smiled in greeting before going back to his mail, Haley’s leash draped loosely over an arm. Like always you smiled back before grabbing your mail, feeling Haley start pawing at your leg for her daily treat. Tucking the mail underneath your arm you knelt down to scratch Haley behind the ears.

“Hi there sweetheart.” You cooed cheerfully just like every morning since you’d seen her. She was soft, smelling vaguely of vanilla and oatmeal shampoo. “Did your daddy give you a bath?”

You thought you might have heard a huff of a laugh from the man in question but Haley had already zeroed in on the treat in your hand and had sat down with impatient squirming for her treat.

“You’ve got her trained quicker than I have.” Dick groaned when you handed her the dog biscuit. That made you laugh.

“I’m just happy you let me spoil her. She’s such a good girl.” You smiled and gave her one last scratch before straightening up.

“She’s the best.” Dick agreed mildly before yawning. Your gaze was sympathetic.

“Long night?” You asked.

“Yeah. You?”

“Something like that.” You agreed unsure if you should admit to Nightwing stretched out on your couch in the wee hours of the morning. Or the fact he had apparently been comfortable enough to use your shower and steal one of your towels. Did that mean he was coming back? Or were you going to have to buy another towel?

“I better get going. You know how Haley gets when she can’t get her usual walk.” He told you with an affectionate eye roll. You laughed.

“I’d be cranky too if I couldn’t get in some exercise.” You teased, “Bye Haley.”

Haley yipped at you tail wagging as you wiggled your fingers at her.

“Have a safe walk.” You told Dick when you glanced back at him. He smiled.

“Yeah, thanks.”

You could feel his eyes watching you as you turned back towards the stairs and disappeared behind the door.

i-yap

Jason todd x reader - clingy thoughts

(guys i have no motivation to start writing most days so like whenever I get comments or requests in my inbox I get rlly excited and actually feel like writing)

if jason could, he would melt his skin so it could stick to yours . He is so touch starved but more than that he is just ...starved. like he hasn't ever had anything properly good in his life. and then you're just there and he doesn't think something better could exist

he wants to look at you, he stares a lot. even when he is cuddling you, he's looking at your hands, your hair, whatever he can see in the position

he likes casual intimacy more than fancy intimacy. like linking pinkies when walking, resting your head on his shoulder on the bus, your legs being pressed against each other when you're sitting on a rooftop. something you'd do without thinking but he is constantly thinking about it.

he isn't the lift and spin sort of guy ( like after a mission or something) he is a holds you and falls to the ground from the pain of being separated from you for too long. he is the don't to dare pull away, tears in his eyes, body shaking sort of guy.

he hates being away from you, even across the table is too far. wants to sit next to you or hold your hand if you're sitting across. make sure the table isn't too big. the distance hurts him, its like he has an internal radar that if you cross , his head goes red .

give him any sign that you are just as clingy or even that you don't hate his guts and he will just freeze. he doesn't know how to reciprocate touch, feelings, words, everything but he really really wants to. so just because he stiffens up when you hug him doesn't mean he is gonna let you leave the hug .

his sweetest words come out at like 4am , when you're in the bathtub, sitting on a roof, eating snacks on the floor of your room or lying in bed . you cant be facing him cause he will forget whaT he wanted to say once he sees your face. he is super tired from crime fighting or after s'x or after a nightmare. don't make a big deal out of it cause he wont take it well and will get embarrassed.

he is just so protective, you rlly cant blame him.

#jason todd x reader #jason todd headcanon

silvasaliva

Unexpected Aspects of the Types

ENFP: They actually crave schedules and structure like nobodies business, if and only if it revolves around their passions.

INFP: The “manic pixie dream girl” stigma is so wrong. 90% of them are more along the lines of “embittered memelords” with a splash of off-beat and sensible fashion.

INTP: They’re actually excellent in social situations that they throw themselves into. Your odd aggressiveness and shouting is amusing and weirdly charismatic.

ENTP: You’ll have to murder them a thousand times before they’ll admit that they actually DO crave harmony and peace more than chaos; Debate and verbal jousting (and memes) is just their way of getting there.

ENFJ: The worst time management skills. Worse than all of the P’s put together, bar none. You got stars in your eyes and not a single “no” in your throats and it often leaves you ragged busybodies from over committing yourselves.

INFJ: Despite their ‘mysterious and secretive nature’ stigma, if you engage them in a deep conversation about their passions, 9 times out of 10 they will splay their soul to you even though you met 5 minutes ago at a college party.

ISFJ: They’re known for being the kindly, grandmotherly type that just wants the best for their friends, but the flip side is they’re all basic bitches that secretly crave being a tool. They’re usually just too nice to go Full Douche™, praise the Lord.

ESFJ: Despite being known as the social butterfly who can grace any situation, they’ll 100% ask you a thousand clarifying questions about something arbitrary and still act like you’re the weird one.

ESTJ: Weirdly enough, more often than not, they’re one of the most socially graceful and self-aware people in the room. That, or they’re utterly cringeworthy. Not really any in between. Just don’t get them started on politics (I’m begging you).

ISTJ: Despite the ‘emotionless Traditionalist™ robot’ stigma, although they can’t offer consistent emotional output, all of the ones I’ve met are some of the most emotionally stable, mature, and available people I’ve ever met.

ENTJ: Your responsible, efficient, and commanding CEO of a friend is actually the biggest procrastinator in the game, bar none. It’s hidden under a few hundred layers of self-confidence, but they need the stress of the last minute to feel anything in this world.

INTJ: Massive internal war between fearless, emotionless sociopathy, and caring so deeply for a select few people that they’d give up every ambition to follow them to the ends of the earth without a single plan. TL;DR, their black and icy hearts are secretly hearts of gold and they absolutely abhor that about themselves.

ESFP: Your favorite quick-talking, loud-mouthed, social explosion with all the friends is probably pretty lonely on the inside. Almost every ESFP I’ve met has huge commitment issues (big and pretty accurate stereotype), but few people realize it usually comes from self-knowledge of their sporadic nature, and they keep people at an emotional distance as a result, so they don’t end up getting hurt. Advice: letting people in and trying to make it work is infinitely better than loneliness in a crowd.

ISFP: The EXTJ’s WISH they could be as soul-crushingly terrifying as your favorite superwholockian, equestrian painter friend when somebody’s crossed their family or friends.

ESTP: The “sex, drugs, drinking, and more sex” cliche with ESTP’s is so dumb because literally every ESTP I know doesn’t care about alcohol or sex more than any other person I’ve met, but they ARE infinitely more obsessed with ultimate frisbee and bridge jumping.

ISTP: The calm, rational, logical side of Ti is thrown completely out of the driver’s side window when they’re behind the wheel, because these hoes have the worst road rage I’ve ever seen, without exception.

existential-esfp

MBTI Encouragements

ISFJ:

Never lose heart, your circumstances may be tough but you’re tougher!

ESFJ:

Gonna reach that goal, write that book, graduate, be completely surrounded by genuine loved ones, and it will be glorious. Maybe not today, not tomorrow, but someday. Just you wait.

INTP:

Give it your all, and you’ll change the world!

ENTP:

You can do great things! So long as you continue to develop your ability to discern what you can/cannot and should/should not do.

ISTJ:

Up. The direction you are headed!

ESTJ:

Never quit! Your goals are within reach! Don’t be afraid to give yourself some flex room though!

INFP:

Gonna be alright. Just take a breather and persevere!

ENFP:

Let it be. Sometimes leaving things alone may be better than constantly trying to fix it.

ISFP:

You are capable. Your intelligence and ambition are far greater than you give yourself credit for!

ESFP:

Down to make this life your best life? Good. With your wit, charm, and innate intelligence nothing could stop you!

INTJ:

Never lose sight of your goals, but don’t overexert yourself in the process.

ENTJ:

Gonna be blunt here. Success comes from within, thankfully you have the potential to be successful at whatever you set your mind to. And beyond!

ISTP:

Run forward with caution. Charging headfirst may be effective for the short term, but you can achieve so much more if you persevere with a steadfast mindset!

ESTP:

Around here you’re known for unconventional but practical methods of getting the job done. I can’t think of anyone better suited for the job to help your common man!

INFJ:

And don’t forget to take it easy. Hard work is commendable, but exhaustion will rob you of getting your goals accomplished.

ENFJ:

Desert the notion that you’re needlessly soft! It takes courage to be kind, that being said there is a fine line between courage and stupidity.

You all are worthwhile and capable in your own individual ways!

lizzie-is-here

like the dawn- series masterlist

summary: the first superheroes, the soldiers out of time, the worst troublemakers of the avengers. steve rogers, james barnes, and (y/n) (l/n) have many titles. but before they became national heroes, they were an inseparable trio on the streets of brooklyn.

relationships: steve rogers x winged!poc!reader x bucky barnes

warnings: cussing, violence, the angst that is bucky’s time in hydra, mentions and references to racism, misogyny, and homophobia, idk pining?

(pictures are not mine!)

☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️

part i- until the end of the line

“we were children thrust into a war. and once it ends, what will we become?” -unknown

it all begins with a pinkie promise

part ii- the star-spangled man with a plan

“i’m fed up to the ears of old men dreaming up wars for young men to die in” -george mcgovern

local asthmatic does something very stupid immediately after being told not to

part iii- not without you

“show me a hero, and i’ll write you a tragedy” - f. scott fitzgerald

are you ready to follow captain america into the jaws of death?

part iv- the train and the plane

“i don’t know who sold the homeland, but i know who paid the price” - mahmoud darkish

in the span of weeks, you lose everything

part v- the captain, the winter soldier, and the angel

“you were destined for the glory, the honor and the fame. i was destined for the bullet, to be the gun with no name.” - a.j (via ddaredevil)

who are you?

part vi- the man on the bridge

“in nostalgia, there is no difference between a day, a year, a decade, or a lifetime, because the amount of longing is beyond the idea of time.” - gibran khalil gibran

the fall of hydra and shield, and the rise of something beyond the winter soldier and the angel of death.

part vii- the apartment

“when does memory end and love begin? all i know is- she loved him before she remembered him.” - ritika jyala

even as you and bucky go on the run, the trio can’t stay apart for long.

more parts coming soon!

fic-finders

What’s your favorite fics to read over and over again

wow ok this is going to be a lot so sit back, relax, and enjoy the fics lol

(I feel like there is more but I can’t find them)

chelsfic

Hunter’s Heart - The Mandalorian masterlist

Din Djarin/OFC

Instead of finding a child the Mandalorian discovers his quarry is a young woman. The girl has been held captive and abused and she claims not to know why she’s being sought by every bounty hunter in the galaxy. Din knows she’s lying but for the first time he can remember he feels doubt about finishing a job.

fenxshiral

Elvish Phonology and Alphabet

If you’ve read my previous post on the matter, you will see my theory that Elvhen, as it was created by David Gaider and the other Dragon Age writers is more of a cipher of English rather than a true constructed language. Firstly, I want to stress that this does not mean that their work is any less praise worthy. Nor does it mean that a cipher can’t work very well as a ‘language.’ So please don’t think that I am putting Gaider of any of the other writers down because of this.

With that said, because Elvish is, essentially, an English cipher, it shares most of its phonology. Therefore, figuring out and charting the phonology of Elvish is quite easy compared to, say, the Dothraki language from Game of Thrones (created by the wonderfully talented and incredibly knowledgeable David J. Peterson.)

“But wait!” You interject. “What the hell is phonology? Does it have anything to do with phones?”

No. It doesn’t have anything to do with phones. Phonemes? Yes. Phones? no.

Phonology is a branch of learning within linguistics that deals with the organization of individual sounds within a given language. Basically, it’s what the individuals sounds within the language are.

You know those funny looking letters next to definitions in the dictionary? Those are the sounds within the word. That’s the phonology of the word (In a very small nutshell).

With that said, ONWARD TO ELVISH PHONOLOGY LAND!

Keep reading

#elvhen #dragon age #project elvhen #reference #dalish

webcricket

Maybe a Winchester Sister reader with the boys being "The Boys™" because they just found out that her and Cas have been together. Please and thank you 💕 ((ps i love your writing lmao))

Thepads of Castiel’s bare feet trod soundlessly as he navigated the bunker hallwayoutside Sam and Dean’s respective closed bedroom doors. Clad in nothing butcrumpled white boxers, the angel was on his way back to your room bearing theglass of ice water you requested after your most recent amorous sortie together.He stopped dead in his tracks when Dean’s door creaked open. In his haste toreturn to your side, he’d failed to listen for movement in the brothers’ roomsbefore entering the hall.

Theelder Winchester clomped into view. A Men of Letters robe was sloppily tiedabout his waist, his green eyes half-closed as he swallowed the finale of anepic yawn and probed his thick sleep-parched tongue around his mouth dryly severaltimes. Blinking his dull focus upon the wide-eyed deer-caught-in-the-headlightscountenance of the angel and the gently sloshing glass of water, he reached out, wordlessly took the glass, and emptied it in a singlechug. “Thanks,” he muttered sleepily, wiping the stray drips of water thatdribbled onto his chin with his sleeve and offering Cas the empty glass.

“You’rewelcome,” Cas responded with a curt nod of his head.

Deanstepped backward, turning in a shuffle to reenter the sanctity of his darkened bedroom.Before Castiel could finish exhaling a sigh of relief at not being interrogatedfor his state of undress and strange presence in the hall at the odd hour, Deanpivoted and held up a pointed finger. “What are you doing half-naked in thehall conveniently holding a glass of water anyway?” He peered warily up anddown the corridor. “You’re not always out here when we’re sleeping, are you?Cause that would be weird, even for you.”

Theangel pursed his lips and glanced guiltily to the side. On the long list ofthings he’d rather not do in his underwear at 3 o’clock in the morning in themiddle of the bunker hall, revealing the fact that you and he were having sex andtrying to keep in a secret from the overbearing brothers was decidedly numberone. He wasn’t going to lie, and there was no avoiding involving you in hisanswer, “Y/N was thirsty.”

“Humph,”Dean hummed, bobbing his head slowly as the wheels of alertness and higherreasoning spun into gear.

Sam’sdoor swung wide and he lumbered into the hall, fingers roughly rubbing his faceand taming his slumber-ruffled mane. He stretched his lanky arms overhead andblinked wearily between Dean and Cas. “What’s going on?” he murmured in ahusky tone.

“Y/Nwas thirsty,” Dean grumbled, casting a suspicious glower at the angel whorefused to look at him.

“Huh?”Sam squinted at Cas, the surprise arch of his brow suggesting it only justregistered to him that the angel was practically naked.

“Whatare you doing in her room at this hour of the night?” Dean cleared his throatwith such violent force it garnered Castiel’s undivided attention.

Theangel’s jaw set sternly, blue eyes flashing defiantly in response to Dean’sharsh manner. “Well Dean, there isn’t a bed in my room,” he sassed.

“Ithought you didn’t need one. You don’t sleep,” Sam proposed helpfully, unclearin his exhaustion who he was helping or why it mattered. He scratched hiswashboard stomach through the thin fabric of his shirt.

“No,I don’t sleep,” Cas rolled his eyes and exhaled sharply, “but Y/N finds post-coitalcuddling more comfortable in a bed.”

Sam’sexpression went wide, mouth agog in shock. “You, you’re, our…,” the coherencyof the thought slipped inarticulate from his tongue.

Deansnorted and doubled-over in a seizure of sardonic laughter.

“Whyare you laughing?” Cas glared at him.

“CauseI could have sworn you just said you’re sleeping with our sister,” Dean’s jocularitydissolved in a choking cough as he straightened his frame, supporting himselfwith a palm pressed to the doorway.

Cascocked his head to curiously regard Dean, “Did I not make it clear that we aredoing more than sleeping?”

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dindjarindiaries

Whispering “I love you” to Din when you think he’s asleep one night because you’re still a bit too afraid to tell him when he’s awake. You don’t know he’s still awake until after the words have left your lips.

It’s become more and more common that you end up falling asleep in the same bed as Din. Neither one of you can sleep alone easily, especially after a long day plagued by horrors even the strongest of warriors have trouble dealing with. You now often find Din coming to you and asking for you to stay with him, just until he’s able to rest. Most times, you’ll just stay the entire night. He doesn’t mind—and neither do you.

But it’s killing you softly to care for him in such a way and yet still have to hold back the rest of it.

You’re more than eager to pour your entire heart out for him, to bleed your love onto him—but you just can’t. Your fear of Din not reciprocating, of him getting afraid and pushing you away, is too large for you to be courageous and to just say those three words that have been stuck to your chest for months.

But tonight, this hunt, was particularly difficult for both of you. Din had been away for much longer than expected and upon his return, he showed up more bloodied and bruised than usual. You were both silent as you helped him to tend to his wounds, though the constant hand of yours he held onto said more than any words could’ve. You’d allowed him his privacy as he used the fresher, but as soon as he returned with his helmet and no other armor, you knew he was going to need your comfort more than ever tonight.

Now, you stare down at him as you sit up beside him in his makeshift bed, his helmet leaning into the side of your thigh as he lays completely still. He’s accidentally fallen asleep with one of your hands still trapped between both of his, but you don’t mind, and you don’t move for fear of waking him. You know he needs this rest; you’ll sit awake here all night if you must. Your free hand still gently tends to the motion of running over the crown of his helmet, hoping you can soothe him and whatever beauty lays underneath it.

The ache in your chest is at its most prominent now as you dare to ease yourself closer to his helmet, needing to release the words in a quiet hush from your lungs. “I love you,” you murmur, lips pressing gingerly against the beskar of his helmet before another movement of your hand wipes away the small print.

Your heart nearly leaps out of your throat when you feel his hands give yours a gentle squeeze, and your other hand freezes in place as you hear his modulated voice speak. “I love you, too,” his tired rasp assures you as he buries himself even more into your side. “Always have... always will.”

You feel a tearful smile growing on your lips as you continue the motion of your hand over his helmet again. “Will you tell me again in the morning?”

“I’ll tell you... whenever you want me to, cyare.” His voice, while full of exhaustion and fading as he falls into slumber, is full of genuine and honest truth—with just enough affection to make your heart flutter inside your chest, finally alleviating the heavy ache.

#din djarin x reader

bumblebeezer

The Way

Din Djarin/Reader

Word Count: ~1100

Warnings: Near death experiences, whump, angst (with a happy ending, don’t worry)

Notes: I see a lot of Din drowning & reader needing to decide whether or not to take the helmet off in order to save him. Let’s flip it, switch it, reverse it!!!!

The splash he makes when he hits the water is deafening. It makes his ears ring. The force from the fall alone stuns him, and the weight of the beskar drags him down before he can even begin to grab his bearings. He can’t imagine what it’s like for you, with your lack of armor.

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#the mandalorian x reader #din djarin x reader