#it keeps correcting to Spanish

[w3atherboy-is-lost-again]

How fo you put a autocorrectpr en English?

I'm tratando de punto the autocorrectpr in Inglés butaca I canoa 😭

It keeps haciendo

[listen-to-the-inner-walrus]

usb to water adapter is real im pretty sure and now i wanna try. wires arent solid, they'll have some air that water can get through. it Will probably kill the mouse? idk.

huh.

considering ive helped my mom repair the cord for the mower several times now, youd think id realise wires arent solid and yet

i also now wanna try but also our hose is very much a product of the "slap some duct tape around it" method so maybe not djdjdmsdm

[mariposakitten]

I had two girls in my class last year like that. They sat together in the back of the room and they'd always have their heads together giggling. One day I asked the one who spoke more English to translate something I said for the one who spoke less and she gave me a wide-eyed stare and said "oh we don't actually speak the same language"

[caracolcondiarrea]

If I have to go to school one single day more It will be The end of me.

[pine-art-ple]

Tumblr why?!?!

i just made a new blog and in the first couple seconds I start rebloging things right? Well then I went to check some and my timeline updated!!! There was something really cool that I wanted to reblog too ༎ຶ⁠‿⁠༎ຶ

[disownedbytiime]

With Tamashina Miina ending, I want to say that it’s my favourite event to date and I’m really glad it exists.

Now, again with my complaints in the eng server: I know it’s impossible to translate 100% accurately due to the differences in languages, but a lot of time, I feel like they could make it different? I don’t wanna minimize the work from translators and maybe I have no business complaining as I’m not into translation anymore. But I mean. Sometimes I feel the translation is different enough that changes the characters personalities or at least modifies them enough and then that’s why people turn them very ooc.

This is one example I got straightaway (there’s a few more but I didn’t remember the exact way they were said, so I’m using this one);

In the original Japanese version, Kifaji admonishes Leona for using informal language in front of Cheka, but in English he asks why he wants to go have lunch right then.

And many will say: it’s the same, what does it matter? But imo it does. You can argue that in both Leona is being “disrespectful” to this royal side, but showing that he can be a bad influence to Cheka is what makes it different. He’s “going to have lunch” in both, but in one that’s not the point—it’s him not being proper (at a festivity and in front of the prince).

And maybe there isn’t a proper “informal” translation for メシ but couldn’t they have phrased it differently? There’s tons of informal ways of saying “I’m gonna eat something”, so couldn’t they have used that? Grab a bite, have some grub (Grim did use something similar), going for a bite. Idk I’m not native but I know there are many expressions that could’ve been used, but instead we have “Neji” complaining about Leona going to eat and not about the way he talks.

Maybe I’m too nipticky but when the fandom already doesn’t have reading comprehension and then the eng version (more widely available) makes many “small” changes like this, then there’s no wonder why fans misinterpret the characters a lot. And yes, maybe this is a very insignificant example because Leona is still being improper, but for someone who likes to be as accurate as possible, I simply don’t like it 🤷🏻‍♀️

[orion-my-rion]

i cannot keep quiet about this anymore.

if you're seeing this, check the reblogs or my "languages" tag for an addition!!

if you're in the US or Canada and interested in learning a language using a free app please get a library card and download MANGO. it's very good and extremely free with a library card (there are many public libraries and universities using the service, so make an account and use the search feature here to find out if there's one near you).

mango currently has 72 available languages and dialects (that's right! different courses for french or canadian french! spanish or latam spanish!). it's set up basically like an audiobook with text. the idea is that the narrator explains the words while you read, and you repeat after them or say the translation out loud when prompted. there's a daily review where you go through flashcards. you can also use the flashcards at your leisure and create your own. at the end of each chapter there's a listening comprehension quiz and a reading comprehension quiz. i cannot emphasize how effective this all is. and it's free with a card.

if you're not in the US or Canada and/or looking for something more like duolingo (don't use duolingo btw tldr they fired translators and replaced them with "ai"), then try BUSUU! it only has 14 languages atm but the lessons are really descriptive and effective. it also has a feature where you can correct other people's open-ended speaking/typing exercises. you set your fluent languages, and exercises by people learning those languages will appear in your feed for you to correct. you can even add others as friends! and, much like duolingo, it has a streak and leaderboard system for you to strive for, minus the guilt-tripping owl.

busuu is free (you watch ads to unlock lessons and they're all skippable after like five seconds), although it also has paid premium/plus versions (i don't use the paid version—the language courses are available for free, and the ad system is Really unobtrusive).

so that's my wisdom for the day. mango and busuu. please check them out :)

[jungwnies]

f1 grid | learning a language

୨ৎ : featuring : all drivers on the grid ୨ৎ : synopsis (requested by anon) : learning a language for your f1 boyfriend

୨ৎ : word count : 938

୨ৎ masterlist ୨ৎ 10k event | masterlist ୨ৎ

ᡣ𐭩 a/n : im like a day behind in stories... dw chat im LOCKING IN i think... sideye? this infact mondays post but tuesdays post will be out a little later today T-T

ʚ・red bull

max verstappen

nearly chokes on his water when you say "ik hou van jou" without warning.

pretends he's unimpressed, but secretly changes his phone's language to dutch to test you.

teaches you all the ridiculous dutch racing slang. you repeat it wrong and he laughs like a schoolboy.

corrects your accent with exaggerated seriousness: "it’s not how, it’s hauw — you’re making me sound german."

yuki tsunoda

shocked, then immediately makes you repeat everything so he can rate your pronunciation out of 10.

only teaches you curse words and food names. absolutely no grammar help.

laughs his head off when you accidentally call ramen "grandmother."

says you're his "nihongo no sensei" (japanese teacher) just to mess with you.

ʚ・mercedes

george russell

you thought learning british slang was simple. george decides to mess with you: "say 'peng ting' in front of lewis."

corrects you with a raised eyebrow when you misuse "fit" or "innit."

secretly impressed when you call him "my gee." tries not to smile.

forces you to watch love island as cultural immersion.

kimi antonelli

beams when you greet him with a "ciao amore."

teaches you romantic phrases then turns red when you use them casually.

you mispronounce "macchina" (car) and he goes, "nooo, now you're calling me pasta."

gets competitive: "you learn italian. i learn your language. we race."

ʚ・ferrari

charles leclerc

his face goes bright red when you say something soft in french.

corrects your grammar and pronunciation in the gentlest voice.

you call him "mon coeur" and he nearly drops his espresso.

sends you voice notes saying the same phrase over and over just to "help you practice."

lewis hamilton

loves that you picked it up to bond with the fans, not just him.

talks to you in half-italian, half-english during post-race dinners.

teaches you "grazie mille" and "sei bellissima," then says them to you in front of the team.

buys matching italian textbooks for fun, calls it "date night studying."

ʚ・mclaren

lando norris

immediately regrets you learning british slang when you say "bruv" unironically.

teaches you nonsense like "that's peak," "allow it," and "bare mad."

pretends to cringe every time you say something right. secretly adores it.

forces you to play cod with him and his friends to practice "real london lingo."

oscar piastri

you try to say "arvo" and "no worries," and he just dies.

laughs when you accidentally say something offensive without knowing.

makes you use aussie slang in every conversation: "that sentence didn't have 'mate' in it, try again."

very proud when you use "reckon" correctly. posts it to his story.

ʚ・aston martin

fernando alonso

nods very seriously as you practice, corrects your conjugations with professor energy.

when you say "te quiero," he goes completely silent and blushes.

teaches you how to shout at other drivers in spanish, just in case.

introduces you to his family and makes you speak only spanish all dinner.

lance stroll

you both struggle through duolingo together and compare scores.

gets competitive about streaks. "i’m on day 12, what about you?"

says phrases like "hola papi" and then loses it laughing.

brags about you to fernando: "she speaks better than i do now."

ʚ・williams

alex albon

surprised but deeply touched.

helps you practice but keeps distracting you with kisses.

teaches you sweet pet names in thai and says them back every time.

when you pronounce something wrong, he just hugs you and goes "close enough."

carlos sainz

absolutely melts when you roll your r's right.

you say something simple like "hola mi amor" and he lights up like a christmas tree.

spends whole evenings just having slow convos with you in spanish.

teases you for being "muy guapa y muy lista" (very pretty and very smart).

ʚ・haas

ollie bearman

you call him "my bloke" and he turns the color of a tomato.

laughs hysterically every time you say "oi bruv" like you mean it.

tries to teach you more but ends up wheezing: "that's not even how we use it!"

buys you a tracksuit and says it's "for authenticity."

esteban ocon

thinks it's the most romantic thing ever.

you struggle to say "rendezvous" and he gently corrects you with a kiss.

whispers french phrases in your ear just to fluster you.

leaves sticky notes around the house with words of the day.

ʚ・racing bulls

liam lawson

you try to say "sweet as" and he stops what he's doing to laugh.

pretends to be offended when you mix aussie and kiwi slang: "excuse me, i'm not piastri."

calls you his "missus" in return and grins.

buys you a nz flag for your language streak celebration.

isack hadjar

absolutely charmed the second he hears you try.

says something flirty in french and dares you to figure it out.

makes you speak only french to him for a day. smirks every time you mess up.

shows you off to his friends like, "she speaks french for me. just for me."

ʚ・alpine

pierre gasly

pretends he’s too cool to care but absolutely melts when you call him "mon chéri."

leaves flirty messages in your duolingo inbox.

sends you obscure french memes and makes you decode them.

you say something romantic and he just whispers, "say it again."

franco colapinto

you pronounce his name the spanish way once and he's gone.

corrects your slang like a patient tutor, but teases you mercilessly too.

buys you alfajores as "study fuel."

gets emotional when you say something sweet in his dialect.

ʚ・kick sauber

nico hulkenberg

amused at first, but turns into your grammar coach real fast.

"nein, nein—this is the wrong case. we do not say it like that."

gives you german tongue-twisters and giggles when you fumble.

very proud when you say "ich liebe dich" the right way.

gabriel bortoleto

excitedly helps you with pronunciation, even if he gets distracted.

calls his mom so you can practice together.

when you say "meu amor," he completely melts.

writes you little love notes in portuguese and hides them in your books.

2021-2025 © jungwnies | All rights reserved. Do not repost, plagiarize, or translate

[waywardangel-wilds]

King of words

honestly the best thing about peeta saying “if it weren’t for the baby” is that it was grammatically correct

[donatellawritings]

What about instead of rage giving the reader the silent treatment let’s switch the roles and instead the reader gives rage the silent treatmentt plsss

you were being a chatty little princess. you couldn’t help how excited and giddy you were today — the sun was shining bright, the sky a pretty baby blue, the air smelled fresh and sweet, everything just seemed to have been going picture perfect for you. so, when rafe brought you along with him to the country club to catch up with kelce and topper, you were all smiles, to the point where your cherub cheeks and glossy lips ached from being so stretched. you sat prettily on rafe’s lap, even more bubbly than usual thanks to the pomegranate martini you’d been sipping on.

rafe’s hand mindlessly tapped against the side of your thigh as he spoke to topper about this new boat that he’d been eyeing, causing your doe eyes to widen as your lips parted, “oh my god, topper it’s so pretty and i told rafe that he should-” you cut in, oblivious to this being your fourth time interrupting rafe while he spoke to the guys. it wasn’t until rafe had finally corrected you that you realized your silly mistake.

“hey, y’gonna let me finish talkin’ to top, or are y’gonna keep on interrupting me?” rafe scolded, his voice cold and stern as he lightly grabbed your jaw, his bright blue eyes hanging low as he sent you a chilling warning look. a soft exhale left your nose as your eyes glazed over with threatening tears, with an obedient nod. now returning his attention to topper, rafe cleared his throat before continuing, “so, yeah m’probably gonna have it by next week — just waiting on my guy to have it all dolled up for me,” rafe sighed, ignoring the slight pang in his chest as you fiddled with your fingers and kept your gaze trained on your feet.

he could tell that you were trying your very best, not to cry.

you remained silent for the remainder of the day, only allowing yourself to extend a forced courteous smile to topper and kelce, once rafe decided it was time to go home. he didn’t miss the way you simply nodded or shook your head whenever the server asked you a question, or how you quickly wiped your eyes before a stream of tears could flow door your cheeks. could rafe do without your constant interjections? yes, but he had to admit that the conversation just wasn’t as engaging without your light and airy commentary.

so, rafe decided that he’d play all of your favorite songs, once you were comfortably seated in your passenger seat with your seatbelt fastened, his pink lips running dry as you remained blank of any emotion. reaching over the center console, rafe laying his hand right above your knee, squeezing the plush skin of your thigh, to get you to look at him, “hey, mama — y’doing okay?” he questions, quickly glancing over to you as you wordlessly nodded, your dolly eyes fluttering closed as rafe sighed in defeat, before bringing his hand back to the steering wheel. he had to admit that watching you leaning your head against the window to fall asleep, instead of his shoulder, stung him a little.

what gnawed at rafe the most, was that you weren’t being quiet as a punishment, you genuinely believed that rafe wanted you to stop talking, to the point where even he couldn’t get you to say a word to him. it’d been about four hours and he missed hearing you, he missed the way his name fell off of your tongue, the way your accent peaked with certain words, how you’d console him in spanish, but mostly, he missed hearing you call him ‘papi’.

it didn’t take long for you to fall asleep, thanks to the two cocktails you’d drank earlier, leaving rafe overtly excited to take the chance to get you in his arms, the moment he parked his car, rushing to the passenger side as he scooped you into his arms, his forearm resting underneath the soft curve of your ass, while his free hand gently slid over your waist. a low whine left your swollen lips as you kept your head leaned against rafe’s shoulder, sighing sleepily as you allowed your boyfriend to carry you inside of tannyhill.

pressing a kiss to your cheek, rafe was quick to take a seat on the couch with you on his lap, he needed this silence to end, before he flipped the fuck out, “i don’t like that y’not talking to me, mama — m’about to lose my mind, not hearing my pretty girl,” rafe coos sweetly into your ear, pressing another kiss to your cheek as you sigh, leaning your head closer into his shoulder. “y’not in trouble, baby, i just wanted to finish talking to topper and i know you’re excited about the boat,” rafe squeezed your waist, beckoning for you to look at him — he needed to make sure that you knew that he still saw you as his sweet girl.

compliantly, you lifted your head, your sleepy doe eyes bright as met rafe’s unwavering gaze, a small huff leaving you as you parted your now barely-glossed lips, “i just didn’t want to annoy you, papi —” you began, rafe’s eyes softening as your sweet voice ran like warm honey in his ears. you innocently shifted yourself on his lap, your swollen lips just aching to be kissed by rafe’s, “i know i was just being too excited,” you sighed, ending your small ramble as rafe simply stared at you blankly, licking over his lips as he shamelessly ogled yours.

the second you cocked your head to the side in confusion, rafe’s mouth was on yours, enveloping you in a disgustingly sloppy, but needy kiss. a throaty moan left rafe’s throat as his hand slid up to the back of your neck, securely holding your face against his as he messily licked into your mouth, spit smearing across your chin as you struggled to catch your breath, “papi, wait — i can’t breathe,” you giggled, your words instantly swallowed by rafe’s mouth as his tongue mushed slush against yours, the two of you whimpering with greed as rafe leaned forward, with you still clinging onto his lap, his shiny, spit-covered lips trailing down to your prettily pushed-up breasts.

“missed hearing y’fuckin’ voice, mama,” rafe mumbled, his voice broken and hoarse as you smiled cheesily, beaming with the fact that rafe missed you.

[oracleofevil]

𝐃𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐂 𝐑𝐄𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐏 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍𝐒 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐌 || 𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐄𝐕𝐈𝐋

author's note: i made one for my mouthwashing blog and I was like, fuck yeah i can make one for re too! who's gon stop me??? I'll make one for the ladies maybe

warnings: slight angst, major fluff, slight toxic behaviour.

characters included: 𝗹𝗲𝗼𝗻, 𝗰𝗵𝗿𝗶𝘀, 𝗹𝘂𝗶𝘀, 𝗰𝗮𝗿𝗹𝗼𝘀, 𝗮𝗹𝗯𝗲𝗿𝘁, 𝗲𝘁𝗵𝗮𝗻.

,'✿— 𝐊𝐄𝐄𝐏 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆 —⁠✿,'

𝐋𝐄𝐎𝐍 𝐒. 𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐃𝐘

before you guys go to bed he has to make sure all the doors and windows in the house are locked, no exclusions, no excuses. he checks them twice just in case. force of habit.

washes your hair whenever you're too tired, doesn't say a word. has very gentle hands.

he never fully relaxes whenever you hug him from behind, jolts his shoulder as if he's bracing for impact.

insists on knowing your location at all times, you call it 'controlling behaviour' he calls it 'just in case' he knows the world much better than you do.

likes just falling on top of you whenever you're lying down on the couch or the bed.

𝐂𝐇𝐑𝐈𝐒 𝐑𝐄𝐃𝐅𝐈𝐄𝐋𝐃

works out obsessively and painfully on the days you guys have arguments, he thinks the sweat will burn the guilt out.

brings home protein bars and vitamins instead of flowers, calls it 'survival'.

when he kisses you, it's as if it's the last time, he's so intense and rough that you have to often remind him, 'you don't have to right here's.

gets those 'everything free' pastas and insists that it tastes good.

sometimes accidentally yells and then curses himself out.

𝐀𝐋𝐁𝐄𝐑𝐓 𝐖𝐄𝐒𝐊𝐄𝐑

has a secret file on you, blood type, health stats, allergies, etc.

has a habit of staring at you out of the blue, as if you're an artifact.

corrects your facts mid conversation or while you're arguing in that same deadpan voice.

reads aloud scientific facts from his encyclopedias or journals, you think it's as close as it's getting to him reading you stories. and he finds your attempt at understanding him cute.

fixes your posture mid hugs and kisses, you reason that it's his way of affection, 'fixing things'.

does NOT let you go anywhere without some form of tracking, you call it paranoia, he calls it protection. It is paranoia.

𝐋𝐔𝐈𝐒 𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐀 𝐍𝐀𝐕𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐎

you find random notes when he's gone for days, 'i love you' in the sugar jars. 'make sure you have dinner' in your shoe.

he talks to you a lot in spanish when he's drunk, says 'i love you' in spanish a lot.

if you're a smoker, he lights your cigarettes even when he's the one who's trying to quit. he finds it sexy.

checks the locks of the house 3 times before you guys sleep, then makes you check it 3 times. he may not trust the world but he trusts you with all his being.

𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐋𝐎𝐒 𝐎𝐋𝐈𝐕𝐄𝐈𝐑𝐀

he freezes up whenever you cry, doesn't move, because he's seen way too many people die while sobbing.

tries to make you dinner every chance he gets but always ends up almost setting the kitchen on fire.

sings while cleaning, whenever you try to record him he pretends to get mad.

gets anxious when you don't reply to his text in under 5 minutes,

makes you laugh whenever he senses you're about to get upset. it's an old habit.

𝐄𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐍 𝐖𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒

he keeps your voice notes saved, listens to them whenever he feels down.

he has nightmares he doesn't speak to you about. if he gets a nightmare when you're both asleep, he just wraps himself around you as if you're a body pillow.

double knots your shoes whenever you're distracted, he doesn't want you to trip.

fixes everything in the house without you even noticing something was broken.

a very, VERY light sleeper. if you so much as cough, he's awake and by your side.

𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐊 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐅𝐎�� 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆~!

[kuronarnze]

a/n: hihi!! I came back with a itoshi sae oneshot hehe, i got this idea randomly, enjoyy the oneshot !!

Itoshi Sae x Reader !

•┈┈┈••✦ ♡ ✦••┈┈┈•

"Te Amo, Idiota"

"You don't know anything, right?"

Sae squinted at you from across the small café table, tapping his finger against his coffee cup. His hair was messy from practice, and there was a crease between his brows — the universal sign of Sae taking something way too seriously.

You tried your best to look clueless, widening your eyes and shrugging.

"Not a word."

He hummed suspiciously, but pulled out a notebook anyway, flipping it open with a sigh.

"I'll start simple, then."

You bit your lip to hide a grin.

Because the truth was... you already knew Spanish.

Fluently.

Your mother had taught you growing up, but when Sae casually offered to teach you ("so you can keep up when we travel for my games"), you hadn’t had the heart to tell him.

He looked so earnest about it. So rare. So soft.

How could you not play dumb?

"First word: Hola," Sae said, tapping the paper. "It means hello."

"Hola," you repeated sweetly.

"Good." He cleared his throat, a faint pink dusting his ears. "Now, 'gracias.' It means thank you."

"Grathias," you said, exaggerating the lisp.

Sae cringed. "It's not Spanish from Spain, dumbass. Just say it normally."

You nodded obediently, even though you could probably conjugate verbs better than he could. Watching him get worked up about it was too entertaining.

And maybe — just maybe — you loved seeing this side of him.

The patient, low-voiced, slightly awkward Sae who only existed when he was with you.

This went on for days.

Little lessons over coffee, texting you random vocabulary, even voice notes correcting your "bad pronunciation" (you had to fake the bad accent to sell it).

Meanwhile, you plotted.

You waited.

Waited for the perfect moment to reveal yourself.

And when Sae finally, finally texted you, "Tomorrow, I'll teach you how to say I love you," you knew your moment had arrived.

You spent that night crafting a little monologue.

Nothing too crazy. Just enough to make him combust.

The next afternoon, you met him at the same café, heart racing in your chest from excitement. Sae was already there, flipping through his notebook, looking unfairly handsome in his hoodie and jacket.

"You ready?" he asked without looking up.

"Actually," you said, trying to keep your voice steady, "I practiced a little."

Sae arched an eyebrow. "Oh yeah? Let's hear it."

You leaned forward, hands folded neatly on the table, and said in your smoothest, most flawless Spanish:

"Itoshi Sae, eres el amor de mi vida. No sabes cuánto te amo. Eres la mejor parte de mi mundo, y quiero pasar cada momento contigo."

("Itoshi Sae, you're the love of my life. You don't know how much I love you. You're the best part of my world, and I want to spend every moment with you.")

Silence.

You bit back a laugh as Sae just stared at you.

Mouth slightly open. Eyes wide. His notebook forgotten in his lap.

"You—" he finally managed, voice cracking. "What— What the hell?"

You smiled innocently. "Did I say it right?"

"Where did you—" He stood up so fast his chair scraped the floor. "You— you said it perfectly."

A few people were staring now, but you didn’t care. Sae looked more flustered than you’d ever seen him — his cheeks fully pink, ears burning.

"You little—" he grumbled, sinking back down into his seat, covering half his face with one hand. "You knew Spanish this whole time, didn’t you?"

You leaned your chin into your hand, grinning.

"Maybe."

Sae groaned, dragging his hand down his face.

"You made me spend hours trying to teach you!"

"It was cute," you teased.

"You're evil," he muttered.

"You love me," you shot back easily, throwing his lessons right back at him.

He dropped his hand, glaring at you — but there was no heat behind it. Just a helpless, utterly fond frustration.

"Yeah," he muttered, staring at you like you hung the moon.

"Te amo, idiota."

You laughed, cheeks warming.

"Te amo, Sae."

He rolled his eyes, but you saw the tiny smile tugging at his lips.

And when he reached across the table to lace his fingers through yours, you squeezed his hand, knowing full well you'd do it all over again — just to see him smile like that.

•┈┈┈••✦ ♡ ✦••┈┈┈•

Thank you soso much for reading!! Last year i tried learning spanish, but i kinda gave up hehe, soo im sorry if some of the spanish is wrong (i have to admit, i did use google translate on the long dialogues...)

Thank you sm for readingg !!

[jaehaeryshater]

England’s Pearl and Their Beloved Queen

Mary I and Katherine of Aragon by @francy-sketches

Guys. I have not been so excited for a commission in my life. I know it’s not ASOIAF so definitely not as anticipated among my friends, but it’s just so well done. I adore Katherine and Mary and this turned out so beautifully. I cannot sing Francy’s praises high enough; after the initial reference pictures I sent her, I did not need to correct anything at all, she completely got the vision.

As anyone who has ever encountered me before will have known, I am incredibly particular about commissions and therefore very involved. I usually like to give pieces I pay for extra thought and historical authenticity. For this piece, I went and looked for available quotes and contemporary accounts of Katherine’s fashion choices. I wanted to make sure from the base of the dress (the farthingale underneath) to the jewelry were all as accurate as was reasonably possible. I did even learn a thing or two, despite my initial intention of just checking to make sure everything I had previously believed was true. For example, I learned that Katherine sometimes wore a flemish hood, which I wouldn’t have thought that would align with her fashion sense; I was proven wrong. I have seen practically all the artworks available to the public that have been confirmed to be Katherine, so I had already guessed black was her favorite color to wear. But I did learn that her other favorites were purple and red. I decided to keep it simple with the black. It’s elegant and regal, black was an expensive color but still is not obnoxiously ostentatious. The jewels around her neckline as taken directly from portraits of her. The pearls seem a mainstay for her, but I did learn that her dresses had many other colored jewels tied into them. I just thought black looked the best. Her dresses were fur-lined, although I would definitely say we took some liberties on what the fur looked. The fur she wore was pretty much exclusively ermine. The sleeves also have true gold, which Spanish royalty traditionally loved (for hundreds of years, by this point, at least). Katherine’s Spanish outfits, of which she had many, definitely collected dust in favor of more traditional English outfits. There’s no indication that she was forced into this, as she did sometimes dress in the Spanish style when it struck her fancy, but it was important for her to present herself as English with English loyalties and priorities in mind. That being said, something as innocuous as gold embroidery, which was not completely foreign to the English court, was definitely something she could implement from back home without seeming like a foreigner. I have pomegranate embroidery on her sleeves, which is more of symbolism rather than something accurate. There’s no proof she ever wore pomegranate embroidery on her sleeve, but her official symbol was of a pomegranate, so I figure that was something important to her.

Katherine’s necklace is obviously a direct copy of the necklace she wears in several of the contemporary artworks depicting. This is pure speculation, but I personally believe that this necklace could have come from old English jewels that had been melted down and repurposed for her. Generally, people weren’t as sentimental in the same way we are today, nor worried about these aspects of preservation, so jewels were melted down and used for other purposes all the time. She also usually wore many strings of pearls, but it just would have looked like too much and would take away from the piece overall, so we decided just to do the necklace. Her gabled hood is also directly taken from her contemporary portraits, the gold and black with the red jewels was what she usually wore. She has a girdle belt with a long string of pearls. Sometimes she would wear a cross at the end or some black jewels that matched her necklace. What’s depicted in this is actually a pomander that turns into a rudimentary clock when it is opened. Katherine is recorded as having one of these; I thought that was very cool. I also asked for her to have some rings. She did have a wedding ring, but I found no description of it, so the artist just did basic gold. She’s wearing two which I think is pretty funny considering she was married twice, of course she wouldn’t have worn two wedding rings, but imagine if she did have the audacity to. Katherine had so much jewelry, more than any of Henry VIII’s wives. She had the royal collection available to her, pieces from Spain, and gifts from Henry specifically made for her. She usually decked herself out as expensively as possible.

Unfortunately, there is basically no information on how Mary dressed as a child. We know her mother dressed her and was having the clothes ordered herself, but beyond that, there’s really nothing available that I could find. I felt that Mary would be dressed similarly to her mother, but I wanted to give her a purple dress because purple fabric was generally the most expensive thing you could buy. I wanted to illustrate how loved and well taken care of she was. She has matching rings with her mother, but no girdle belt or necklace because I’m envisioning her as being 6-9 in this, so I wanted to give her something she could play in. She’s wearing a French hood. Katherine ordered her one in 1520, when she was four. My references on how hers should look is from portraits of her aunts Mary and Juana. I felt that Katherine would probably want to buy a style she was familiar with. Mary’s embroidery is of the Tudor rose. It turned out so beautifully. Similarly to Katherine, there’s no evidence that she actually wore that embroidery, but I wanted some symbolism in there.

My intention with this piece was to show the closeness between Katherine and Mary. Katherine loved Mary with all her heart and showed no outward indication of disappointment that Mary was a girl. She spent more time with Mary than any other highborn individual in this time period that I know of. I wanted to show that Katherine is someone that Mary deeply and completely trusted, even when court could be over the top and crowded, frightening for a child. I feel as if people other themselves from people in the past. People often feel as if people 500 years ago did not care as deeply about their children or weren’t attached to them. I believe this is true in some instances, but generally we are more like the people of the past than we like the believe. As far as any research I’ve done has shown, Katherine loved Mary as much as any mother of our time loves her children.

I believe Francy did a beautiful job, so all compliments go to her, I hope everyone checks out her page to see her amazing work. The caliber of this is unlike the commissions I’ve done in the past. I cannot thank her enough.

I hope this ended up being relatively historically accurate, I’m sure someone will let me know if it’s not haha.

[pinkpurplesunrises]

Belly, Sweat & Futbol - the short story - Alexia Putellas x Pregnant!Reader

It was hot. Not like “ooh, summer’s here, let’s get a sangria” hot. No. It was “the sun has a personal vendetta against me and my swollen ankles” kind of hot.

You were seven months pregnant.

Seven months.

As in, practically a planet with legs.

And you were sitting in a plastic stadium seat with minimal shade. Directly under the wrath of the Spanish sun. Watching your wife. The ever-glorious, annoyingly flawless Alexia Putellas. Ziip around the pitch like she wasn’t defying gravity, physics and probably God.

“Estás bien, cariño?” Eli, Alexia’s mom leaned over from her seat beside you. Fanning herself with a Barça program like it had any real power against the Mediterranean inferno.

You gave her a look. A look that said, “I am carrying the grandchild of your daughter and your daughter has decided to play in the fiery depths of hell and you’re asking if I’m okay?”

But instead, you smiled, because you loved Eli. You loved her almost as much as you hated being hot.

“Estoy bien,” you lied. “Just melting internally. Like a cheese.”

Eli cackled, cearly delighted by your dramatics. “Una quesita embarazada.”

You both burst into laughter. Then you immediately regretted it because laughing made the baby do a little somersault that somehow pressed on your bladder, lungs and soul simultaneously.

By the time the final whistle blew, your thighs were stuck to the plastic seat. Your water bottle was a tepid soup of regret. And your ankles were doing their best impression of two rising loaves of sourdough.

Barça won, of course. Because Alexia Putellas. And even though you had literally been sweating from your elbows (who knew that was possible?), your heart still did that fluttery thing when she jogged over to the sideline. Ponytail bouncing. Looking like the goddess of football and hydration.

She spotted you and grinned. That ridiculous grin that had gotten you into this whole baby-growing situation in the first place.

“Hola, mis amores!” she called, waving.

You stood up. Correction: you attempted to stand up. What you actually did was slowly peel yourself out of the seat like a lasagna sheet from a non-stick pan. Groaning like a retired pirate.

“Don’t rush,” Eli said, chuckling as she helped you.

“Oh I’m not rushing,” you said, finally upright. “I’m just trying not to give birth on the pitch.”

Alexia jogged over, sweaty and radiant and smug as ever.

“Did you see my assist?” she asked, leaning in to kiss you.

You held up a finger. “Don’t kiss me yet. I need you to hear what I’ve been through.”

Alexia blinked, smiling. “Okay…”

You inhaled dramatically. “First of all, I have sweated in places I didn’t know had sweat glands. My bra is now technically a soup. I’ve been sitting on plastic for two hours with a mini-human karate-chopping my bladder, and your mother has fed me seven churros like I’m a prize hog.”

Eli, from behind, waved proudly. “Estaban muy buenos!”

“They were good,” you admitted, then turned back to Alexia. “Then someone behind us spilled soda on my sandal. A wasp tried to flirt with me. And to top it all off, your fans keep coming up and taking selfies with me like I’m the stadium mascot. Which, I guess, fine, I do look like a very exhausted football-shaped balloon.”

Alexia was laughing now. Genuinely laughing. And not in a “oh haha, you’re silly” way, but in a “I want to marry you again right now” way.

“I love you so much,” she said, finally pulling you into a hug, heat and all.

You grunted. “You love me sweaty. That’s real.”

“Of course,” she said, brushing a damp strand of hair from your forehead. “You’re carrying our baby, you came to my match in Satan’s weather, and you still look like the love of my life.”

You squinted at her. “Are you concussed?”

“Hopelessly,” she whispered. Then kissed you full on the mouth. Heat be damned.

From behind, Eli made a little awww noise and snapped a photo. “Para el álbum familiar!”

You pulled away from Alexia and turned to Eli. “If that ends up on Facebook, I’m naming this baby after your least favorite cousin.”

Alexia laughed again and rubbed your belly. “You really came all the way here in this heat just for me?”

You rolled your eyes. “No, I came for the churros and to judge your form. Your left-foot pass was weak.”

Alexia gasped like you’d slapped her. “You wound me.”

“I’ll wound you more when I make you do my back massage tonight. And foot rub. And get me more of those pineapple popsicles.”

Alexia just shook her head, utterly enamored. “God, I love bossy pregnant you.”

You leaned into her shoulder, smirking. “Bossy? I’m a hormonal queen and you’re lucky I still find you hot in this temperature.”

She kissed your temple. “Luckiest woman alive.”

As you waddled slowly toward the exit with Alexia’s arm around you and Eli chatting animatedly about baby names, you smiled to yourself.

Sure, you were a sweaty marshmallow on legs, but you were also deeply loved, slightly famous by association, and about to go home with the captain of your heart (and FC freakin’ Barcelona).

Not bad for a Wednesday.

[meazalykov]

first lady

barcelona femeni x uswnt!reader

summary: the girls give you a nickname for being the first american on the senior team

the day you arrive at barcelona feels like a dream. the journey from being just another girl playing in american youth leagues to standing in the famed blaugrana colors is something you never imagined happening. 

you walk into the training grounds two days after your signing was official, trying to keep your nerves in check. the weight of being the first american on barcelona femení’s senior team presses on your shoulders. 

keep in mind you’re the first american on the senior team.. there is an american at la masia, onyeka, who you’ve been in contact with– you hope to play with her someday. she has been telling you about the fun experience playing in barcelona. 

you’re humble but you can’t wait to see what onyeka is talking about. 

the first person you meet is alexia. she approaches you with a calm confidence, her presence demanding respect even though she doesn’t say much at first. 

“bienvenida,” she says simply, her smile small but warm. it’s clear she’s sizing you up, trying to see if you’re up to the challenge. there’s no coldness in her eyes though, just curiosity.

you return the smile, trying not to seem too overwhelmed. 

“gracias. it’s an honor to be here.”

“we’ll see how you do in training,” she says shortly after she gets to know you, teasing, but the underlying tone is serious. 

alexia is known for her dedication, and she’s testing you without even needing to. her acceptance means everything here.

from that moment, she takes you under her wing. she doesn’t hover or smother, but she’s there when you need her on and off of the pitch. during drills, she’s quick to offer tips, showing you the ropes of how barcelona plays—fluid, fast, and always a step ahead. 

it’s a steep learning curve, but you thrive on it. your dribbling skills, honed from years of street-style play and youth development back in the states, shine here in ways even you didn’t expect.

you notice the way some of your teammates watch you closely at first—wondering if you’ll live up to the hype. the media had already dubbed you the "american girl version of ronaldinho" for your flair and trickery with the ball, and it seems the team had caught wind of the nickname, too. 

slowly, as you start dancing past defenders in the league and champions league— leaving them in your wake.

the skepticism by the team fades, replaced by respect.

alexia seems particularly impressed by your ball control. during the first el clasico, after you nutmeg two defenders and finish with a perfect strike, she pulls you aside. 

“not bad,” she says, though her smirk tells you she’s genuinely impressed. 

“keep playing like that, and you’ll fit in here just fine.”

you start to settle in over the next few weeks. the locker room becomes a second home, the banter flowing easier as the language barrier fades.

 you’re still working on your spanish, but with every day, you pick up more phrases, understanding the jokes, and joining in on the conversations. 

the younger players, especially vicky, start warming up to you quickly. she loves your laid-back vibe, but also the intensity you bring on the field.

alexia, though, remains your closest connection. she never hesitates to correct you or push you harder in training. she also pulls you into the social side of the team. the late-night dinners, the coffee stops after practice, the little moments that build a bond off the pitch as much as on it.

two months in, you feel like you’ve found your place. the media continues to talk about your dribbling, and your presence as the first american on the team still makes headlines. 

the comparisons to ronaldinho haven’t stopped, though they’ve started to bother you less. you just want to be seen as you—not a copy of someone else, no matter how legendary.

it is after one particularly grueling training session that the idea of a new nickname starts floating around the locker room. 

you’re outside on the pitch with patri, perfecting your penalties while the rest of the team heads into the locker room. 

inside, vicky, ellie, and ewa sit around, chatting while everyone cools down.

“so, what do you think we should call her?” vicky asks, leaning back against her locker. 

“i mean, she’s amazing, but we can’t keep calling her ‘the american ronaldinho.’”

“yeah, she’s her own player,” ellie agrees. 

“we need something that fits her.”

ewa, sitting across from them, grins. 

“but it has to tie in with her being american, right? i mean, it’s a big deal. maybe not to her– but she’s the first american to play on the senior team for the women.”

ellie nods, deep in thought. 

“maybe something with ‘first’? i mean, she is the first…”

they go back and forth for a while, throwing out suggestions. nothing seems to stick, though, until ewa suddenly straightens up, her face lighting up like she’s cracked the code.

“wait, i’ve got it,” she says, snapping her fingers.

“how about ‘first lady’?”

the room goes quiet for a second as everyone processes it.

pina raises an eyebrow. 

“first lady? like... the president’s wife?”

ewa shrugs, still grinning. 

“yeah, but think about it. she’s the *first* american on the team. it’s perfect. and it’s an american term, so it’s fitting.

"plus, y/n got elegance on the ball." patri notes.

slowly, the others start to nod, the idea settling in. salma, sitting on the opposite side of the room, lets out a laugh. 

“that’s genius. she’s literally our ‘first lady.’”

before long, everyone’s onboard, laughing and testing out the nickname as they get ready to head out. 

the whole team seems to love it, and as they file out of the locker room, they’re excited to see how you’ll react.

meanwhile, you’re still out on the pitch, working through your penalties with patri. by the time you make your way back inside, you’re sweaty and tired, but satisfied with the extra work. as you step into the locker room, you immediately notice the way everyone is looking at you, a few smirking, some trying not to laugh.

salma is the first to break. 

“hey, ‘first lady,’ how’d the penalties go?”

you blink in confusion, pausing mid-step. 

“wait, what?”

salma grins wider, the rest of the team now barely holding back their laughter. 

“you know, ‘first lady,’ since you’re the first american here.”

it takes a second for it to click, but when it does, you burst out laughing, doubling over as you process the absurdity of it. 

“first lady? seriously?”

the whole room erupts into laughter with you, and suddenly, it feels right. the nickname sticks, and soon, it’s all anyone calls you. 

at first, it’s a playful joke, but after a few weeks, you realize it’s become your new identity within the team. 

even mapi starts using it, giving you a teasing smirk during passing drills.

“first lady, over here!” she calls during one session, and you can’t help but shake your head, grinning.

as the season rolls on, you know you’ll keep proving that you’re not just the first american here—you’re their first lady.

masterlist

[shadowmor]

Mc is not fluent in Japanese

Idea/summary:The MC/reader is foreign and knows just enough Japanese to express basic ideas (almost A2 level).

-> Vagastrom & Frostheim house

Part 2

✋️ obviously, this is not canon. Just a scenario idea

Kamurai Jin

Likely knows the most common or widely spoken languages (English, Spanish, French, or Mandarin).

If you speak English, communication will be easier.

I imagine he would correct you if you spoke or wrote something incorrectly — not in a bad intention, more to help you, even if his advice might come off a bit rough.

If he doesn’t know your language, he’ll probably study at least the basics (like greetings and essential vocabulary).

He wouldn’t tell you directly that he’s studying it; instead, he’d casually drop a greeting or word in your language during a random moment, leaving you confused and surprised (which he will enjoy).

He’d notice from your pronunciation and limited vocabulary after a few minutes that you weren’t raised in Japan.

He’d search how to say “servant” in your language and start calling you by that lol

Tohma Ishibashi

Like Jin, he’s likely fluent or knowledgeable in widely spoken languages.

It’s very possible he already knows how to speak or at least understand yours.

If he doesn’t, he might take some time in his free moments to learn basic vocabulary if he deems it necessary.

He’d give you advice on pronunciation or correct your mistakes like a teacher —elegantly, without making you feel stupid. (At least, you do not feel like it even with his tone) But he wouldn’t constantly correct you in every conversation.

"I think you meant to say *blah blah*, Mc.”

“Oh, right. Thanks, Tohma.”

"^^"

I imagine he’d be one of the firsts to get your name’s pronunciation right after hearing it only once.

He’d know from your first conversation that you’re not from Japan.

Lucas Errant

He wouldn’t realize you’re foreign unless you told him. At most, he’d think your way of speaking is peculiar

He’d probably get confused if you made an obvious mistake in Japanese. Did he study wrong? Or is this an informal or casual way of speaking?

He’d be happy to find out you’re also foreign! Same situation! Foreign buddies? Maybe you two should schedule study sessions together (You two will)

Being polite and kind boy that he is, he’d definitely learn your language alongside Japanese, from basic greetings to intermediate topics.

He’d ask if he’s pronouncing your name correctly (and would probably be disappointed if you suggested a nickname to make it easier for him)

If you speak English, it would make things easier for both of you, but he’d still practice other languages with you (Japanese and yours, if it's different)

He’d probably greet you in your language every time he sees you.

Kaito Fuji

He wouldn’t realize you’re foreign at first (since you wore a veil and spoke very little —he assumed you were shy).

He’d only find out when you apologized for mispronouncing something and mentioned you’re still learning. Wait, what? You’re learning? That means... you’re not from here, right?

He’d sign up for a (possibly free) course in your language and definitely let YOU KNOW ABOUT IT! (because his surprise attempt failed)

Kaito doesn’t seem like someone who knows other languages, maybe just the basics of a few(?). If he doesn’t know, you’d definitely trigger his interest in studying one.

You’d help him with your language, and he’d help you with Japanese. Another study date! And another excuse to talk to you!! Great!

He’d try a different greeting in your language every time he sees you

He’d download an app like Duolingo and keep asking if his pronunciation is correct

He’d mispronounce your name several times, but somehow learn it quickly after that

The first thing he’d write in your language would be your name

He’d be very patient with your mistakes

“It’s fine, Honor Student! Even I don’t know how to write that. I got a D in grammar class last week.”

___________________________________________

Leo Kurosaki

It would only take him a few minutes to figure it out (at first, he’d just think you’re weird or dumb), but some pronunciation errors would help him connect the dots.

Yes, he’d make you feel like the dumbest person alive if you made a mistake.

You’re now an easy target for his intern jokes.

He’d correct you in the most blunt way possible. “You don’t even know this? How the hell do you come to another country without knowing something as basic as this?”

He’d learn a bit of your language just to annoy you or say “my love” to post on his socials (with a picture of you).

He knows how to pronounce your name but would deliberately mess it up or give you a derogatory nickname to tease you.

However, you’d know he studied at least a little when, during a mission, Alan said something that confused you, and Leo used a synonym in your language to clarify.

Besides, Google Translate exists (not that he’d bother to use it to talk to you)

Sho Haizono

He’d notice after a few interactions.

He wouldn’t exactly correct grammar errors, but he might address specific word misuses. For example, he’d correct how you used a specific word.

But wouldn’t harp on every mistake — and if he does, only in private (probably in a tease tone)

He’d know the basics of greetings.

If there’s a term similar to “senpai” in your language, he’d use it.

Oddly, I imagine him asking to you how to say an ingredient he’s using.

If he saw you eating something from another place, he’d look up how to say “traitor”/"cheater" in your language. When you came near his foodtruck, he’d jokingly ask what a “traitor” wanted there —or write “No traitors allowed” in your language to make sure you know it was directed at you. (He’s just joking... I hope.)

If he found a recipe online in your language, he’d ask you to translate it for him (he doesn’t trust Google Translate — one mistake can mess up all the flavor)

Todoroki/Alan Mido

He wouldn’t know until you told him or heard it from Leo. He’d just assume you’re not good with words.

He’d rarely correct you — if he understands, there’s no need. If not, he’d ask you to repeat or gesture.

He’d directly ask you how to say greetings or phrases in your language (he wouldn’t know how to sign up for a course or use a language app)

It wouldn’t take long for him to pronounce your name correctly.

He wouldn’t mock your pronunciation—he’d find it kind of cute.

He’d probably see Leo using an app like Duolingo and try to figure out how to say things from listening to it.

He’d ask how to say his name in your language

- "Names don’t translate. Alan is still Alan.”

- “Oh... okay.”