#there are not enough words in the english language to convey how bad my sense of time is lmao im sorry y'all | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

kaiserouo · 3 months

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Hi.

This is a rambling post because i'm sick. Somehow turned into a post about my history about art. Kinda spent too much time on this that i don't really wanna delete this now. Oh well.

More below.

Yeah okay. You might think why i'm rambling in an art blog. It's because english isn't my native language and i kinda think differently with english. I've complained enough on plurk with chinese today so, uh, i'm here now lol.

I am so sick right now i don't even know if it's food poisoning or normal cough / fever. Anyway, i stared at a blank canvas in csp for >4 hours and cannot even do anything because of all the migraines i have.

The pain kinda took away the little inspiration and creativity i had, even though i have like a full idea list with detailed and concrete comic plot attached to almost every single item on the list.

So i'm gonna post the second hound i've ever drawn, probably because i have just lost the capability to make proper decisions. Also being sick and cannot physically do anything made my mind flew to who knows where.

2022/02/12

I mean, it kinda sucks. I know i also didn't achieve anything important now but oh man.

You know, it's kinda a miracle why i'm here doing art stuff almost every single day, and why this piece is in my phone in the first place. If you've seen my stuff a lot (for whatever reason) you might already know i...don't like myself very much. Not until recently when i'm reading a book did i realize i'm a perfectionist type of person. Like, i don't like failure, i don't like being...not able to do stuff. When i try something i think i can achieve and realize that i actually just...don't have the ability to do the stuff to my standards, i'd very likely just quit.

I was not capable of drawing anything. You might be thinking "oh no art is not about being capable or making masterpiece first try it's for fun you can do whatever." I kinda got it, like i understand the point this sentence is trying to convey, but my brain just...doesn't work like that. I think perfectionist is just an inherent bad habit of mine. Especially that i've been lurking on social media watching actual masterpiece level of fanart (at least to me) since i was like, 12. My taste of art and what i perceive as "good" did not match my ability to draw, and very likely never will.

It's basically a death sentence, because if you can't really achieve something to your standards then why do you even try? I mean, objectively speaking it's very illogical to say that and you can probably deduce a lot of contradictions from that, maybe like "masters were once a noob too they weren't born with all the skills they have" or something like that. But that's why i said i'm a perfectionist and it's my inherent bad habit. My brain just defaults to...whatever illogical thinking i said. Until that piece of Bloodhound i've already tried to draw many characters years before, but those attempts just...never last.

But that time, when i tried to draw Bloodhound, i recalled an advice that you should put all your work on the internet. Just, literally all of them, no matter how bad it was. It kinda makes sense to me actually. To keep the progress for future inspections; to give myself a pressure to draw something every day; to put what i was thinking into words, knowing that i will forget all the struggle i had once i became good enough (if that ever happens).

So i made a new plurk account. Nice platform, only taiwanese use that, very little people, even less will see my art months into the cause so that's nice for an introvert like me. But the pressure i gave myself to post everyday is very real, and i despise my art every single day. Old habits die hard, even for now.

Everything kinda flows natually after i got into the habit of posting things everyday. I must stress that this habit itself is a miracle. I'm an introvert that can't really talk with strangers, let alone shouting out loud (i.e., posting) on the internet. Anyway, this changed things. I started to actually draw, like, almost every day. There's never anything i did in my life that i actually made into a habit, or, uh, just generally do everyday without much obstacles in my heart. I usually just play games after school and watch youtube and daydream about all kinds of plot about the game, that'd be all i do.

I can get through a lot of details about the progress thanks to the post i was making, but to put it simply: i think i'm trash at making art, and my art is also trash, so i tried to learn things to make it…less trash. Most art post i've done i wrote about what i tried and what i've learned. Not actual research and book reading, just a bit of observation i made to make my hound look better.

At roughly 2023/2 i saw a post about learning art in 100 days. Ignoring all the thoughts thinking i was trash and achieved way less in a year, i actually started borrowing books about art. Spent like 2 months on stonehouse's anatomy, also a bit on perspective. I'm kinda a nerd so i'm completely fine with the biology and perspective related math (like most properties are 10 seconds easy proof after all). But the memorizing part of anatomy and the intuition part of perspective i'm still trying to get familiar with. Well that all comes down to practice and practice and more practice, which i do way less than i should to be honest.

At 2023/7 i made this account. That time i just got into destiny 2. Fun fact, that banner of cayde + bloodhound + omen was made in ~2023/6 and i didn't even know which games cayde and omen are from until i actually look it up.

And…yeah. This post kinda turns into my history of drawing but this is it. Still learning, still making my daydreams into art. i think the only thing that changed this year is that i kinda enjoy my own art now. I still think some of them are bad, especially as the art gets older, but it's not completely unbearable now. Like, i often go back to some old posts and think "oh yeah i drew this idea, still hilarious to me lol." Crazy, huh?

Okay i'm tired. I think this should have some kind of ending or conclusion...

Yeah, so why it's a miracle i'm here? I started to make art, i kinda made it a habit, i posted about my art even if i'm an introvert irl, i look down upon my own art because i'm a perfectionist, i still make art despite of that, i post enough stuff on the internet before and i plucked up my courage to post on english platforms (i.e., tumblr), and i'm still making art till this day.

I didn't meant it as some kind of art learning advice because you shouldn't even listen to me in that case. It's just me mesmerized by how i even ended up here. Tend to do that when i'm sick on bed doing nothing.

C'est la vie, am i right?

#also why i kinda don't try to draw faces and do coloring #oh btw even if i said i'm an introvert you still can use that AMA thing #i can't talk with people but i can type #probably #depends on how sociophobia i am on that day #ramble #my art #(technically i still posted a hound in there lol)

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sabakos · 2 years

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so you appear to be studying Ancient Greek—that’s really cool and I have to ask, 1. why and 2. how

I am! Mostly out of necessity, because I'm also interested in ancient Greek philosophy, especially metaphysics, so I've been picking it up mostly as I go along reading the source material - I'm nowhere good enough at the grammar to read it on my own but I can usually recognize enough of the vocabulary to read the greek and english in parallel and get a rough idea of what it says. It's especially helpful when the english is really awkward, which is usually just a butchered translation / situation where it's hard to convey the exact meaning of the Greek in English. Also, I find that now that I know enough to realize how misleading the English can be it's almost impossible to read a translation again without having a million questions about what the text is actually saying, it's as if I never really read any Greek philosophy before so much as a bad interpretation of it.

As for the how, I don't actually know very much Greek yet, so I lean pretty heavily on Perseus to look up words in LSJ when I want to just translate a passage. I also occasionally refer to Greek: An Intensive Course by Hansen and Quinn, which is probably what I'll eventually sit down and work my way through if I decide to learn it "for real." If you want to learn it, that's where I'd recommend starting, it has a lot of translations exercises and goes through the finer details of unusual tenses and grammatical cases we don't have in English, noun declensions, etc. There's also a youtube lecture series by Harvard's Ancient Greek department that runs through that whole book. It's definitely what I would do if my primary interest was the Ancient Greek language itself.

I've mostly only gotten away with not doing that yet because I'm primarily interested in pre-Socratic philosophy at the moment, and most of the surviving fragments from anything before Plato are pretty short. They also often use rare words (or common words in weird, archaic ways) so half the time there's debate about what exactly some given word means anyway. So I haven't learned much "Attic" Greek really like I would through the book because the things I want to read the most aren't written in it. I'd absolutely need to do that before tackling Plato or Aristotle though.

For example, I'm reading the fragments of Parmenides' poem "On Nature" right now and there's a lot of words where the example reference (and sometimes the only use of the word) is... Parmenides himself. So i need to look it up anyway and even look at the etymology sometimes to get a better sense of what it's really saying. That's also where the grumbling about γίγνομαι comes from - "come into being" implies a much closer link to εἰμί/εἶναι, "to be" than someone in the early 5th century BCE might have intended. Or it only took on that later meaning because of Parmenides or interpretations of him. basically it's really complicated even with very simple, common words like that.

My tumblr url is another example of that kind of archaic word, other than the Philodemus poem I translated where I rendered it as "brittle" the only uses of it are two mentions in Hippocrates' On the Sacred Disease (i.e. epilepsy) and a byzantine dictionary of rare words by Hesychius. The few things like that I've actually gone and translated have been pretty good practice, but it takes a really long time - I think even after I could read that poem, for example, it took me a good 10 hours or so to render it in English so that it makes any sense. It's really worth it to learn though - there's a lot of structure, wordplay and, ambiguity in Greek poetry that just disappears in translation.

If you're also interested in philosophical works in greek, I've also found the philosophical lexicon by F.E. Peters pretty useful (though it's kind of dated) and also Beekes' etymlogical dictionary especially for older works and rare words. everything i mentioned is on library genesis too, I pretty much never buy books.

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corpsereviver-if · 2 years

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the dragalias look so fucking cool. also the written alphabet looks sick. how'd you come up with it?

Thank you! ;v; ❤️️❤️️❤️️

I wrote down my little process under the cut! :D

My first draft had letters that used a bunch of circles and lines that looked too similar.

From a learning standpoint, I would've given up on learning the alphabet because the letters would confuse the hell out of me. I don't even remember why I put arrows on top of the English alphabet. 💀

So this,

Evolved into this:

The letters are more distinct compared to my first draft. I made a lot of them slanted to look vaguely like wings. Other letters have a different meaning behind them that correlate to the world they live in.

Then there's a reason why someone would write on either the top, bottom, or on both sides of the line. The placement of the letters lets the reader know what type of sentence it will be, and it tells them how thoughtful the writer was when it comes to whomever reads their message.

The top half of the line is of 'good' nature, and the bottom half is of 'bad' nature. It doesn't mean the content of the sentence or the person is of either of those alignments, though.

Formally written sentences represent balance and utmost thoughtfulness as the letters are on both sides. It is the most 'humble' form of writing sentences, taking the time to write the letters on both sides. This lets the reader know straight away that whomever writing took the time and effort to get their message across and was thoughtful of them. Usually this form is used in formal documents or among royalty (also, writing this way shows completeness as most of the letters put on both sides look like wings on a spine :D).

Letters written only on the top half signify casual writing. It is of 'good' nature because the idea is that the writer is utilizing the top half to still take the time to make it legible, but they don't want to use up too much time or be too formal by writing on both sides. Imagine writing to a loved one, writing on a sign or billboard, or writing for a timed essay in class.

Writing on the bottom half is of 'bad' nature because the idea is that there was little intent of making sure it is legible for the reader to understand. This doesn't mean whoever wrote it on the bottom is an asshole. Writing on this side is mostly seen in quick little reminder notes, jotting down random ideas without stopping or much thought, or letting the reader know that the writer was in a hurry and didn't have the time to make sure it is legible.

The tone indicators are there as another heads up for the reader. There's more tone indicators than those three, but those are the three core indicators. The idea behind it is the same as using the indicators such as /j or /srs. It can sometimes be hard to convey the intent and emotion in words without them.

And finally, I put the large symbol in the front to indicate the source of the writing. It will let the reader know who it is from, sort of like a wax seal stamp or logo.

So when conceptualizing the dragalia alphabet, I mostly kept in mind how would they get the meaning of their message across and the level of thoughtfulness and intent behind their writing, if that makes any sense. ;v;

I also made sure that things would be kept interesting enough for someone to want to actually learn the language. People want to get their message across in the most effective and efficient way as possible, but sometimes may vary.

#corpse reviver #dragalias #development #asks #idarion

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ateezthings · 3 years

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ATEEZ Reaction: Forced breakup with S/O + admitting their insecurities

@hongjoongscftie said: “Hey :) first thing,I hope you're having an amazing day! And secondly,could I maybe request an ateez reaction? I was thinking of the ateez members being insecure about something on themselves (like voice,looks,etc) and reader is telling them that there's nothing to worry about,and that they love them just how they are,and that they always will be there for ateez,but a week later the management is forcing reader to break up with their boyfriend,because it could affect their career,and as they are packing their things (member) walks in? I don't know if this made sense,and I'm sorry for my bad english 🥺”

I hope this is what you had in mind 😊 (Also please normalize dudes talking about insecurities)

Genderneutral

Angst, Fluffy moments

Pairings: You x each member

Warnings: language, breakups, topics of body image, insecurities, crying (San’s part is the most heartbreaking)

Word count: 3.2K

Songs, that convey the feeling I was going for:

Twocolors – Lovefool

Lauv – The Other

Young Lions – You Are II

One Republic – Didn’t I

Halsey - Sorry

*~Seonghwa~*

“Do you like my voice?”

It was late. Seonghwa and you were in bed, about to fall asleep.

“Hm? Yeah, sure Hwa, there’s a reason you sell so many albums.”

“That’s not what I asked, I wanted to know if you like my voice.”

Now you sat up, he really was unsure of this. “Seonghwa, I love your voice… You don’t know this but whenever you’re gone over night, I listen to your demos to hear you sing because it helps me fall asleep.”

That statement conjured a shy smile on his face. “I love you Y/N” He pressed a kiss on your forehead.

…

“No no no… don’t leave me Y/N, please, don’t.”

After the very stern talk with their manager, you had no choice but to pack your bags. Halfway through packing, Seonghwa barged in, a panicked look in his eyes, worried when he saw your tear-stained face.

“We can talk about this… just please, don’t go like this” While begging you to stay he took your clothes out of the bag.

“Mr. Kim made it quite clear that I should leave if I don’t want to ruin your career… I don’t think we have a choice Seonghwa”

“We do, I’ll talk to him, we can be together... maybe we’ll have to stay quiet for a few months, but I can’t lose you, I love you so much and I don’t think I could live without you now, so tell me you really would be okay with leaving, because I don’t think you are” He spoke so fast, you had trouble understanding him.

A new wave of tears rolled down your cheeks as you slowly approached him. “I’m not, I’m not okay with leaving you because I need you too.”

He opened his arms to hug you. Feeling his heartbeat next to your ear calmed you down.

*~Hongjoong~*

“Ugh, I need to train more” He mumbled when he saw himself in the mirror.

“What did you say?” You knew from your own experience that insecurities could consume your whole thinking, so you wanted to prevent that from happening to your boyfriend.

“I just wish I had bigger arms, I look like a weakling next to the other guys.”

“No… no you don’t, you look perfect to me, you know I love you the way you are… Please don’t think about it too much, Joong.”

“Baby, I love you too, thank you” He put an arm around you shoulder and pressed a kiss on your forehead.

…

You didn’t remember the walk home after the talk with Ateez’ manager. You couldn’t leave him. Hongjoong was the first serious relationship you had in quite a long time; you couldn’t give him up. But you couldn’t lie, talking to their manager intimidated you a lot. You didn’t know what would happen if you didn’t comply, and you didn’t want to find out.

You were still in a state of shock when Hongjoong arrived.

“Y/N? Are you home?” He practically ran to the bedroom where you were.

“Please Y/N, I’m sorry I didn’t know they’d do this” He helped you sit up on the bed and crouched down in front of you. You still couldn’t talk.

“Babe, please talk to me.”

Finally, you looked at him. “I don’t know… I don’t know what to do… I don’t want to leave, but I also don’t want to be the reason for your problems… Please tell me what to do.”

“I don’t want you to leave me” There was genuine worry in his eyes. “I really don’t know what I’d do without you… and I think we’ll find a way to deal with them.”

At the moment, you really needed him to be optimistic for the both of you. Slowly, you cupped his face with your hands, you never wanted to forget his face. “I’ll stay with you.”

*~Yunho~*

“Y/N, can I talk to you about something?”

“Always, babe, what’s going on?”

You two were cuddling in his bed after a long and stressful day.

“Do you think I should get a six pack?” When you looked at him, he was biting his lip.

“Where is this coming from?” You knew he needed to be in shape to be an idol, but he was, there was nothing you’d change about him.

He still didn’t look at you “I just… Sometimes when we have dance rehearsal, I feel stupid standing next to San, we’re both dancers but his abs are amazing, he’s been working so hard, and it’s really paid off… we gained a lot of fans through him…”

“Alright listen to me Yunho: If there are fans that are only here for your look, that’s pretty shallow, of course it’s nice to look at pretty people but your message and the songs and your energy is much more important… You are in shape, you’re a main dancer, rationally I don’t think you need to change anything if you’re happy with yourself… and if you’d like to know… I like your soft tummy; I wouldn’t change a thing about you… I love you.”

He finally looked at you, his eyes sparkling, slowly breaking into a smile “I love you too, baby, what would I do without you?”

…

Tears were running down your cheeks, blurring your vision while you were trying to put your clothes into a bag. A friend had offered you could stay with him for a few weeks after Ateez’ manager told you, you needed to leave Yunho. You couldn’t believe it. They didn’t leave you a choice, either you’d leave voluntarily, or they’d have to take more serious measures.

You hadn’t talked to Yunho, but you figured their manager did. You didn’t want to make it harder than it already was. Leaving without a trace would be the best.

Suddenly you heard the door open, no, you couldn’t deal with him now.

“Y/N?” It sounded like he was out of breath once he arrived at the bedroom where you were.

“Y/N? please don’t do this.” His eyes were wide open.

“What choice do I have? You don’t need me to ruin your career.”

“I don’t care about that; I care about you… I can’t live without you, please” He moved closer to take your hands into his. His eyes stared into yours, you could almost see his pain.

You let yourself fall into his arms, letting the tears flow “I love you, Yunho… I don’t wanna go.”

He held you close to him, running his hands through your hair “Then stay.”

*~Yeosang~*

“Hi, baby… I’ve missed you today.”

Yeosang had just come home from work. You greeted him with a big hug. He buried his head in your neck and you could feel him shifting some of his weight onto you.

“Are you okay, Yeo?”

You could hear him breath deeply. “Actually, no, I feel like shit… Remember how we were recording our new song today?”

“Yeah, the one you practiced really hard for.”

“Yeah that. And I totally messed it up… I couldn’t get this one melody right and they were all telling me how I was supposed to sing it, but I didn’t get it right, so I have to go back there tomorrow.”

The way he looked at you reminded you of a hurt puppy, your heart burst inside. So, you pulled him into a hug again. “I’m so sorry, Yeo, that must’ve felt horrible… but I think everyone has bad days sometimes.”

“But it’s made me really insecure of my singing now… I don’t know how I’ll shake that off…”

“It’s okay to doubt yourself sometimes Yeosang, but don’t forget that you’re a professional singer, you have a great voice, so many people love your voice, including me, and you will be able to nail it eventually, you just had an off day, and that’s totally okay… You know there’s probably days were even Beyonce can’t hit the right notes, so don’t worry too much.”

He chuckled a little at your remark and finally looked up at you again to press a kiss on your cheek. “Thank you, love.”

“Now relax and let me take your mind off that.”

…

“Yeosang, I’m sorry, they left me no choice but to leave…” The tears were streaming down your cheeks, you had given up on trying to hold them back a long time ago. Yeosang however, still hadn’t said a word since he came home to you packing your bags. He just stood in the doorframe to the bedroom.

“I’m not going to stand in the way of you and your career, I know how important it is to you, so I guess… I guess this is good-goodbye…” Your voice was dangerously unsteady.

“Aren’t you going to say anything?” You tried to wipe your nose on the sleeves of your hoodie when he handed you a tissue.

Slowly he walked over to you and took you into his arms. You could feel his heartbeat.

“Please, don’t go now…” His voice was only a whisper. “Y/N… don’t you love me anymore?”

In between soft cries you managed to utter a response. “I do lo-love you… but is that enough?”

You looked up at him. You could tell he feared what was to come.

“It is enough for me… I love you so much Y/N, promise you won’t ever leave without talking to me first?”

“I promise” The kiss that followed tasted like salty tears, but it solidified the love you had for Yeosang.

*~San~*

“San, are you alright? You seem distant.”

“Huh? Yeah, I’m fine”

You two were having dinner at your favorite restaurant, but he hadn’t spoken much. Usually, he’d tell you how his day went, but not today.

“Are you sure?”

“Alright, no… I feel under pressure because I need to maintain my abs. Now that I’ve showed them, I feel like everyone expects me to be the muscular guy now… but you know that’s not natural for me.”

You felt for him. He worked so hard but now it was getting too much.

“San, you don’t need to prove yourself to anyone… It’s fine if your abs are not visible all the time… You need to take care of yourself… mentally… and I love you with or without abs if that helps.”

He softly put his hand on yours. “It does help.”

…

His management knew you two had been dating for only a few months, but it was getting serious. And they disregarded that. Being forced to breakup never even entered your mind, so it came as quite the shock to you when Mr. Kim, Ateez’ manager, revealed that you indeed had to break up with San.

At home you were halfheartedly putting your clothes in suitcases, but it felt surreal. Like a nightmare.

You had gotten so used to living with San and to think that it was all over now, because you needed to protect his career made your eyes fill with tears.

When the first tear hit the floor, you heard the door open. San stood next to you just a moment later. He himself had red swollen eyes, you assumed he had been crying too.

“Y/N, please don’t tell me you’re actually thinking about leaving me?”

“What choice do we have?” Your tears threatened to spill again.

“I-I don’t know right now, Y/N, but I’ll figure something- we will figure something out, please don’t do this right now, I can’t have you leave me, please.” The more he spoke, the faster and the more panicked his tone got, his eyes opened wide. His hands gripped your arms on each side. You assumed it took a lot out of him not to shake you.

“San, I don’t think that’s a- a possibility anymore… Mr. Kim, he sounded so serious…”

Suddenly he let go of you and took a step back. “Do you- do you want to go?”

You didn’t know what you wanted anymore. It was late and you were drained. Apparently, you hesitated a little too long for San’s liking because he turned around, headed for the door.

“No, San, don’t leave, please, I don’t-” But he was already out the door.

Had you not felt broken-down, you might have followed him out the door, but not like this. You collapsed to your knees and let the tears wash the little composure that was left, away.

*~Mingi~*

“Wow, Y/N, you look gorgeous.”

Mingi entered your shared bedroom while you were putting on some makeup.

“Thanks, baby”

He walked behind you to look at the mirror. A few moments passed when you realized he was staring at his own reflection.

“What are you thinking?”

He took a deep breath before answering. “I’m wondering if my face is handsome enough.”

That was it, you weren’t having him doubting himself. You turned to look straight into his eyes. “Listen to me, your face is so unusually handsome, I’m still amazed whenever I look at you… your eyes are so warm, they’re my favorite feature of yours… also your face is doing a pretty good job at keeping your eyes, nose and lips in place, so you really shouldn’t complain” You had hoped a little humor would take his mind off his insecurity.

He chuckled. “That’s why we’re in a relationship, you always talk me out of bad moments… thank you baby.”

…

Mingi was already home when you got there. For a while you just looked at each other, neither of you knowing what to say.

“Hi…”

“Y/N, I didn’t know they want us to break up, I’m sorry, I’m going to talk to them.”

You couldn’t help but hug him. He was your safe place. “I don’t want us to breakup, Mingi… I can’t lose you” The thought of not having him in your life drew tears in your eyes, it was too painful.

“Shh shh, you’re not going to lose me… I won’t let that happen.” He tried to calm you down by caressing your hair. “We’ll find a way” He whispered, more to himself than to you.

*~Wooyoung~*

It was very early in the morning. Wooyoung was already getting dressed while you were having trouble to get out of bed.

“Babe, do you think my thighs are too big? I feel like my jeans are getting tighter…”

Once you opened your eyes you saw Wooyoung trying to squeeze his fabulous thighs into some jeans, he wasn’t wearing a shirt.

You slowly got out of bed, not taking your eyes off him.

“Clothes can always be altered… and I love your thighs… they’re really… hot” You blushed a little.

“Is that so?”

He tucked a strand of hair behind your ear and kissed you.

…

Why did you have so many clothes? All the tears blurred your vision and whenever you put five shirts in your suitcase another ten were behind that, it was frustrating.

You tried to focus on the simple task of packing, trying hard not to think about the whole situation. You couldn’t believe they expected you to leave Wooyoung. You loved him, and he loved you. And that was supposed to not matter at all?

When you were done, you just sat on the bed. You were worn-out from crying so much.

You didn’t even hear him enter the apartment. Suddenly Wooyoung stood in front of you in the bedroom.

“I came as soon as I heard… I’m sorry babe… you don’t deserve all this shit.” He helped you stand up and took you into his arms.

“I’m just tired, Woo.”

His response was to hold you closer to his chest. “I know… we can go to bed.”

A few minutes later you were lying in his arm about to drift off to sleep, leaving your troubles behind.

“Y/N?”

“Hm?”

“I just have one question.”

“What is it?”

You could hear him inhale deeply.

“Would you- Are you considering leaving me?”

You didn’t think he’d be thinking about that. “Wooyoung, I love you; I will never leave you… I thought you knew that…”

He pressed a short kiss in your hair. “I just needed to hear that… I love you so much, little one.”

*~Jongho~*

“Baby, do you think my butt is too big?”

You were just about to leave for work when you saw him standing in front of the mirror in the bedroom.

“Hu- wh-what?” You took a few steps towards him to give his booty a little slap.

“Jong, booties can never be too big” You smirked at him. “I love your cute little butt… and I love you… so stop being insecure about it” You pressed a kiss on his cheek. He blushed.

…

After your meeting with a KQ executive, you couldn’t think straight. They told you, you needed to leave Jongho as soon as possible because of his career.

Somehow you made it back home where you collapsed into your tears. After a few minutes you mustered up enough courage to pack your bags.

You left the apartment with two suitcases dragging behind you. You had almost made it to the end of the street when you saw him running towards you. “Y/N wait!”

When he finally stood in front of you, he was quite out of breath. Looking at him drew more tears into your eyes. You had trouble holding them back “Jongho, we don’t have a choice, I need to do this, I can’t keep hurting you more.”

“No, please, I love you, this is hurting me more than my career ever could… please don’t leave me, we’ll find a way to fix this.”

He held one of your hands in his two big hands, his eyes opened wide.

You really weren’t sure if you could hide your relationship from his agency and the fans. You were so unsure of the whole situation, but you knew you loved him.

After a few moments of silence, you kissed him with all your passion.

“I do love you Jong, but this is going to be really hard, so I need you to help me when I doubt myself, when I doubt us.”

“I will, I won’t let you go again.”

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thepeakyfckingblinders · 4 years

Text

Never Again || Thomas Shelby x reader

credits to @saralou23 for the gif

⤠ MASTERLIST⤟

Anon requested/summary: “can I request a fic where the reader is found unconscious or faints in the shop or something and tommy freaks out? I just find protective tommy so ❤️💓💟!! Thank you, your writing is absolutely INCREDIBLE” (Thank you so much honeybun, you’re making me blush, pls, forgive me for being late ❤️)

Warnings: swearing, bossy Tommy, basically Tommy freaking out and being overprotective, me always loving him with all of my mangled soul

Author’s notes:

I hope you are okay darlings, I love you, please stay safe ♡

I’m so sorry for being this late, I have no excuses, forgive me. Also the end sucks, but I’m struggling with my writing lately, so, sorry again.

I love protective Thomas so much, he’s an ass, but he’s a softie, and I’m gonna lose my mind some day.

Behind each one of these works there are sleepless nights and something really close to multiple mental breakdowns, so, please, take a minute to send me a message about it, I need actual actual feedbacks to understand how to improve my skills and grow ♡

If you want to be added to my tag list, please, directly message me

I’m Italian, English isn’t my first language, so I apologize for every possible mistake I made. Also, please, help me improve my writing by telling me if there’s something wrong

ENJOY!

Birmingham’s gelid air hit your sensitive skin with no mercy as soon as your red mary-janes crossed the doorway of the Garrison, only to disgracefully sink into the greyish muddy loam in which the whole of Small Heath seemed to be covered.

Your fingers felt like rigid appendages burdening your already wearied arms, while you tried your best to wrap them around your coat’s edges, in a disperate effort to keep that warm tissue on your bulging clavicles left exposed by the woollen dress you were wearing. No matter how many heavy clothes you decided to put on, that implacable cold still succeeded in making you feel constantly out of forces, debilitated to the core; it had always been that way, since you were nothing more than a little girl obliged to spend one every two months confined in your bedroom, afflicted by incredibly high fever and sometimes even bronchitis.

Truth was that your body had never got used to England’s humid weather, yet, even though you poor healt had previously put you in danger, for your sake, thanks to the enormous progresses made by medicine in the past fifteen years, it was now easy to fight against the ruthless chill of those endless winters. Plus, since the earliest days of your attendence, your wardrobe had been perpetually refreshed with high-quality pieces perfectly in step with the times, for your fiancée had been literally covering you in furs and duvets of all kinds, concerned as he was that you could’ve eventually caught another bad fever, whose deathly consequences he had already experienced on his own thick skin. And for no reason in the world he would’ve even risked to lose you too.

So, as everybody could’ve easily predicted, Thomas was perennially paying attention to your wellbeing: the most famous specialists from inside and outside the United Kingdom had come directly to your country house; if one thing could be taken for granted, it was that your medications would always be settled on your side cabinet, together with a glass of fresh water, every day and every night; and, come hell or high water, he would accompany you during your routine visits to the hospital, even when it meant leaving all of his business without any prior warning.

Needless to say, you were perfectly able to do those things on your own -pheraps except for getting a crowd of world renowned doctors in your living room- and you sure as hell had tried to persuade him that there was no need at all for being so preoccupied all the time; still, he was Tommy Shelby, he simply couldn’t help it.

The concern for his loved ones’ lives kept stealing his sleep, even on those nights when there was no trace of imminent dangers on the horizon, it kept excoriating the insides of his drained brains, to the point that, more than once, you’d had to sleep alone in your immense king-size bed or reach for him in his study, curling up on one of his uncomfortable armchairs, ready to appease his fears as best you could. In short, for as much as you needed him to relax, you were still able to understand his protective behavior, against which, as a matter of fact, no one could do much; thus you at least tried not to give him more reasons to be worried by paying some extra attention to all those small things you could solve without Tommy even knowing about it. Regularly taking your iron tablets, for example. Nonetheless, it had now been already a week since the Peaky Blinders had started a brand new business involving in effect every metalworking factory in and around Birmingham, and the whole family, you and Tom included, had been so turbulently tied up with work to let every other thought and need slither on the back burner. As a direct consequence, your doctor’s latest prescription was unfortunately left lying on the bottom of your drawer, that being the fourth day in a row you’d spent without taking those pills, and, even though everything appeared to be going well until then, that one Thursday morning your period eventually came and stroke the fatal blow, having you feel so faint and aching that, all of a sudden, the few metres separating your side of the street from the betting shop seemed to implausibly dilate right under your blurred vision, a vexing sense of nausea assaulting your empty stomach led you to lean against a lamppost, your skin still crawling beneath all those heavy tissues. Dizziness and lethargy almost took over your sore mind, before you shook your head with an abrupt move in a bid to dispel those unpleasent sensations; clients would’ve arrived in less than a hour, Esme had taken John’s kids on a brief fieldtrip, Michael was already in his office, the boys were making their usual rounds of the mills, Finn and Isaiah were dealing with a couple folks in need back at the Garrison and Polly was nowhere in sight, which made you the only available blinder for the opening and, with Friday’s race approaching, there was no way the box-office could remain shut. Hence, more determined than ever, you chocked down the knot forming in your throat due to queasiness and just forced youself to put one foot in front of the other onto the dusty road, until you reached the shop door, not without the risk of tripping over multiple times in the process. Your frozen fingers clutched to the small side-wall now carring all of your weight, whilst your lungs tried to let in as much air as possible. And it worked, each plodding breath seemed to fight your sickness, also your heartbeat was gradually slowing down, thus you shut your eyelids and continued to inhale deeply for a full minute, before your trembilng hand managed to finally turn the key in the lock, giving you free access to the place.

However, the small click produced by the latch closing again did not live to reach your ears, for they were already brimful of ominous hisses, in a scant moment a bulk of hypnotic grey worms prevented you from seeing anything else, they relentlessly squirmed in front of your dilated pupils, that repulsing view sending brutal shooks straight to your clenched stomach, again. And, before you even had a chance to realize what was going on, your brain completely blacked out.

~ ~ ~

Words would not be sufficient to describe the fright taking over Arthur’s features the second your inert silhouette entered his line of sight. Just returned from their daily patrol, he had indeed noticed a small crowd waiting outside the office, cursing and fussing because of the lacked opening, and that alone had been weird enough for him to punch and kick his way up to the entrance, profanities spilling from his mustached mouth every time somebody’s elbow digged into his ribcage, inducing him to hit back so to stand his ground, only to eventually find himself powerless in front of that ghastly scene. It took him a while to recover from the shock, yet the eldest Shelby eventually regained control of his limbs and moved towards your shape with a single step.

“Polly! Pol, come here, for God’s sake!” Those hoarse yells filled the room, reverberating through the brickwalls, so loud that they could’ve been heard from the other side of the city, Arthur fell on his knees right beside you, gently placing a hand under your nape in order to lift your head. Blind panic streaming in his veins kept him for thinking clearly, he didn’t know what to do, thus he simply shook you from your shoulders, hoping in vain to see your eyes fly back open, but your neck just bent backwards.

“Where the hell is that bloody woman when I need her?!” he grunted those words in between his teeth while tigthening his grip on you, then his chest raised in a sharp move: “Jesus Christ, Polly!” He shouted once more, this time conveying all of his breath and blood towards his larynx, his abrasive voice shriveled and insisted on the last letters of his aunt’s name, until swift strides frantically hit the creaking steps, announcing Polly’s arrive. Her eyes struggled to remain open, her left palm was pressed against her forehead in a silly attempt to soothe the tremendous headache resulted from the previous night’s booze, she didn’t even have the time to put proper clothing on, since her mad niece was apparentely going berserk. “You, son of a bastard-” cursed words died underneath her tongue when she understood what was going on, soon her feet took on a life of their own, as they picked up their peace, leading her next to your body now held in Arthur’s arms.

“She’s freezing, Pol, she’s a fucking chunk of ice!” Hiccoughs shattered his worried cries, he almost whined, shifting his gaze from yours to Polly’s face over and over again, she, on the other hand, used the whole lenght of her right arm to clear in one smooth motion the closest desk. “Quick, lay her here” The deafening noise produced by those items colliding with the pavement barely grazed her hears, whilst she nodded to herself in the effort to impose some order on her obfuscated head, searching for a prompt solution that was late in coming, to the point that Finn beat it to the draw and stormed in, pointing a loaded gun to each corner of the room with fear in his cerulean irises. “What the hell’s going on?” That hysterical question echoed through the place, even though the young boy was finding it hard to get his breath, due to the crazy run he had made to reach the shop immediately after hearing that insane screaming. Nonetheless, in the space of an instant, he saw you as well and fell utterly silent, violent dismay caught him off guard, his wide eyes hesitated on your motionless figure; all of a sudden he didn’t know what to think, nor he could get the thought of your death out of his brains.

“My God, she’s as pale as death” Finn let his mind talk through that throttled murmur, regretting it right away, for silty goosebumps crawled on his skin under the pungent pressure of his brother’s instantaneous lethal glare. “Don’t talk shit, kid! Just fucking go and get Tom!”

The redhead didn’t waste any time, he somehow managed to recollect his guts and steadily disappeared behind the door previously left open. While struggling for air and internally searching for the right words to say in front of Thomas, Finn covered the whole distance between the office and the Garrison. Labored gasps coming out of his slightly parted lips in louder groans as he slammed the heavy pub’s doors open, using only his strongest shoulder; both Harry and Isaiah watched him run towards the back room where Tommy was going through the books, they did not dare spill a word and, after all, the boy didn’t even look in their direction, such was his concentration. Still, once he reached the place, all of a sudden his tongue felt dry, his well-organised speech faded away.

“Finn?! What’s wrong?” Tom’s icy eyes were now staring at him through his round glasses, the paper he’d been reading was instantly dropped, although his tone remained steady. “Y-you need to come, now! She... she’s-” A frown formed upon Tommy’s marble face at his little brother’s furious rambling, something wasn’t right, that was crystal clear, yet he wasn’t able to keep up with those hasty and stuttered sentences, so he approached him, putting both his hands on Finn’s shoulders in order to give him a little shove and maybe get some decent information. “Breathe, kid, and tell me what’s going on” That deep, adamant tone somehow sounded scarier than usual roaring inside the boy’s head, hence anxiety definitively won him over, gaining complete control of his mouth too. “It’s Y/n! I don’t fucking know, Tom, s-she looks dead!” All at once, time and space seemed to collapse around him, one single second dilated, covering the space of a whole lifetime beyond his vacant blue irises now fixed on an undetermined spot of the white wall behind Finn’s back. A gruesome, yet familiar sensation raided his petrified body, it felt like having a beast’s fangs gnawing his throat off, lacerating his flesh to the bone, he could sense every little laceration, his chest being plundered, till even his sable heart was eradicated and then mauled. A strangled wheeze barely lived through his plump lips, that being the only sound he uttered, then his black pupils shrinked and immediately twitched, nailing his sibiling’s gaze. Without receiving an order from his brain, his fists violently gripped Finn’s jacket at the height of his biceps, bringing him a span away from his gnashed teeth with a sharp pull. “Where?” He snarled liked a rabid dog, striking, if possible, geater terror in the young man who struggled to spit an almost inaudible “The shop”, before being shoved against the doorframe as Tommy dodged him and rushed out.

~ ~ ~

Polly held the bottle of her almond parfume she’d just put under your nostrils as if her life depended on it, Arthur’s rough palm, instead, began to pat your pasty cheek. “C’mon, love, wake up! Don’t play games, c’mon!” The dorsum of that same hand now poking the left side of your face, and then going back to the other, at incredible speed. You started to feel your face again when his nudges grew in intensity, until he was practically slapping you; soon a tremendous metallic taste invaded your mouth, or rather, you finally sensed it, whilst your eyelids battled against gravity to get back up. Arthur noticed it, he detected that brief flinch and it felt like being pampered with a fresh breeze after days of unsustainable heat. “Oh, fuck, I think I’m having a stroke” His tone held extreme urgency as he grasped for air, tugging with two fingers at his shirt collar; sure, he was great at knocking people off, maybe the best, yet, unfortunately, after that he’d never tried to bring somenody back with the living.

Blinding light rended your shrouded eyes, everything appeared blurred to the point that you couldn’t distinguish Polly’s features, although she was right beside you; nor your hearing was working, since the loud thud produced by the wooden door hitting the brickwall, and then your name barked by your fiancée’s coarse voice, sounded muffled to your ears. With a superhuman effort you succeeded in tilting your face towards the entrance, you recognized the navy-blue suit Thomas had chosen to wear earlier in the moring, still those nebulous images reached your brains with extreme delay, it was like watching vague movie scenes stream in slow motion. Your eyelids blinked as if a plumbeous burden was anchored to them, each flutter seemed to last a full minute, so that you perceived Tom coming to you in multiple shattered motions, while he kept calling you. The moment Tommy furiously jostled against Arthur, in order to take his place by the desk, you gradually went back to see and hear clearly, now being able to seize pure dread sailing those mesmerizing ocean eyes. “Thank goodness, y/n” His big palms envelopped both your cheeks, slightly squeezing them as he lift your neck, revealing all of his hidden delicacy that you, and you only, were able to bring out. “Y/n, love, talk to me” That order came out like a prayer, his voice betraying him once too often, his fingers shaking with worry, while one of his hands held your chin and the other went to caress your locks. Those loving strokes brushed against your skin, slowly infusing a little warmth into your gelid body, he touched you with the unbearable fear of watching you pass away in between his arms, having him struggle to breathe properly. “Do you hear me?” a single, salty drop fell from his long eyelashes and poured your lower lip, you heard his voice crack, distorting, until it became nothing more than a faint whine: “Please, love, talk to me” When his forehead pressed against yours, he finally gave in to the tears that had been held back with drastic ostination, shutting his eyes for a few instants he allowed brutal sobs to trounce his already aching chest. However, that moment of raw weakness was soon restrained, so that you returned to stare into his blue irises. Then, a small grin crossed your pale mouth and, even though your throat felt like gasoline on fire, preventing you from pronouncing a single syllable, you managed to guide your tiny hand to cup his sharp cheekbone. A burning kiss was pressed on its dorsum, before Tommy completely leant into your touch, giving you a look halfway between relief and disperation, he covered your hand with his own, holding it tight. “You’re okay, you’re safe” Those soft murmurs escaped his lips, probably aimed to placate the axphyziating terror still intoxicating his veins. Indeed, as hard as it was to conceive for everybody in that room, although you were the one just recovering from a sudden collapse, Tommy was now the one trembling like a fallen leaf, his arms rested on each side of your shape, sustaining his weight, as he barely stood on his own two feet. Slowly, you regained the necessary strenght to lift your bust, leading him to flutter in your direction, promptly enlacing his forearms around your waist in order to support your movements. “Hold onto me, darling, take it slow” His raspy voice was still unsteady and full of concern, he was holding his breath out of fear, gazing at you with wide eyes and tightening the grip on your hips as if to make sure that you wouldn’t vanish in his palms. You, on the other hand, gave him a rassuring smile, caressing his face mutliple times and placing a brief kiss on his mouth. “I’m fine, Tommy, I’m here with you” you eventually spoke close to his ear so to keep that conversation between the two of you “Let go, my love, I’m here” Your lips accidentally brushed against his forehead once he listened to you and abandoned himself to your tender embrace, gradually drowning into your soft chest while his arms clung on to your figure, his fingertips almost piercing the thick material of your dress as your cheek covered his head, totally annihilating the distance. “Don’t you ever do that to me again. Never again”.

tag list: @spidey-pal, @shadow-of-wonder, @stassaurus, @peachlle, @livvtheangel, @myjbphase, @namelesslosers, @crazyonesarethebest, @vxxn128, @keithseabrook27, @spaghettirogers, @writingstudent, @hp-hogwartsexpress , @eggingamazinglove, @geeksareunique, @cailoleaf, @simonsbluee , @hereforsmutandfluff, @starxtt, @jenepleurepasbaby, @staygold-bebold, @marvelschriss, @captivatedbycillianmurphy

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hetalia-has-a-secretary · 3 years

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Can you write something where the shyest boys finally kiss their crush at a party in a human au. But then some other mischievous character catches it on camera. Then they try to show it to everyone to tease them? (Not really maliciously more playfully. More like a trickster.) Sorry, but I am a sucker for shy characters since I am shy myself.

So my shy boys in my human AU are Japan, Canada, Russia and England (I'd put Romano but he's just a lone wolf who tends to bite when he's disturbed. Metaphorically.)

A/N: I HIT ONE OF MY NOTIFICATION POP UPS AND IT FORCED ME OUT OF THE FIRST DRAFT! I had to redo Japan and Canada's scenerios •́ J ,•̀

Human AU: Shy Boys kiss their crush! On TAPE!?

Japan:

He wasn't really enjoying the party Alfred was throwing. The only reason he was there was over the fact he promised to record some footage for a homemade music video, and he knew his crush was going to be there.

At some point he found himself watching his crush as they danced away with their friends. Was it kind of creepy? Yes. Did Kiku realize this at the moment? No.

He just about jumped out of his skin as his crush made eye contact with him, and his heartbeat quickened as they started dancing towards him.

"Hey Kiku! I thought you didn't like parties?"

"H-hai! I do not usually partake in such events, but I promised Alfred I'd get footage for one of his YouTube videos..."

His crush's head tilted, not hearing him through the loud music and talking. Even with him shouting he wasn't loud enough. So naturally he had them follow him to the porch.

He could have sworn that every star in the night sky was reflecting in his crush's eyes as they were waiting for him to repeat his anwser.

"I have to admit to some urges that have been occuring..." (Not what he was hoping he'd say)

Kiku cringed at his wording, and cursed himself for cramming so many english classes in before he transferred to America. He only calmed back down after hearing his crush laugh and egg him on to continue.

"I... kisu si te ii desu ka?" (Can I kiss you?)

Even though he was rather nervous, he was pretty close with his crush. During their lunches they asked him to teach them japanese so they can help him with translations. Even after two years they still had trouble with it.

"... What about a kiss? oh! Did you kiss someone at the party!"

His face turned red, and he shook it rapidly.

"No! You!"

"What do I have to do with a kiss and you- Oh!"

Kiku covered his face as his crush slowly caught on to his question. Soon enough they had taken his hands away, and lightly pecked his lips.

Flash.

That looked like the flash of a camera. Sure enough Alfred and England were standing at the doorway, polaroid camera in hand. Al being his usual loud self.

"I saw you bring them out here and just KNEW something was going to happen! Didn't I tell you, you had it in you! Now the whole class must know of your bravery!"

By the time Alfred finished his speech, Kiku was already after him. Sadly he was no match for Al's speed due to tripping over everyone, and everything.

Canada:

It wasn't like he was exactly shy, but he didn't have many friends since not many people in his class had much in common with him. His only real friend was his crush, so of course he was terrified to ruin that friendship. Though the constant jokes the others at the party made didn't help, since most of it revolved around them dating.

He was also getting more and more frustrated with the amount of attention his crush was getting. Some of it they welcomed with open arms, some of it not so much. The thing that really annoyed him was seeing Alfred himself flirt with them.

This was the final straw that gave him the courage to walk up to him, and accuse him directly.

"Why are you flirting with my date?"

"Date? I thought you said they were just a friend?"

Mathew had turned his head towards his crush, and planted a light kiss on their lips.

"There. Now we are!"

Matt's face went pale as he realized the scene that was playing out got the attention of some party goers. Phones already recording in case a fight broke out. Leaving no possibly way to get everyone to delete those videos.

Not realizing his crush had a hold of his hand to prevent any conflict, he tugged them out the door, trying his best to shield his face.

Once outside they both sat on the stone slabs of the sidewalk. Matt's crush clearing their throat to help stop the akward moment.

"You know... If you wanted to kiss me, you should have just asked..."

"Oh maple leaf! I am so sorry! I didn't even know I had it in me!"

His crush shook their head, chuckling, then leaned in for another kiss.

"There. Now we're even."

All matt could do was repeat their words with a dreamy sigh.

"Now we're even..."

Russia:

Ivan was already pretty shy, but he really wanted to hangout with his crush. So he let them rope him into going to the party Francis was having. It was a small party, so it wasn't all bad. Other than no one wanting to talk to him due to his lack of English.

His crush was certainly doing plenty of talking through out the night though, and they eventually pulled him aside to ask him something.

"Hey, Ivan? You okay? You don't look like you're enjoying yourself much".

His crush knew to keep sentences as simple and short as possible since he struggled with English. But he still managed a good enough response.

"Da. I am... Not good at the parties. Not one person, speeches? To Ivan..."

His crush smiled, reaching up to playfully ruffle his hair, earning a small giggle.

"You mean to say 'no one speaks to me'. I'm sorry. It can be hard, da?"

He nodded at them. Giving a smile knowing his crush at least tries to conversate with him. But there was something else on his mind. The more they talked, the more he seemed to stare at their lips. He was struggling more and more with hiding his blush. Eventually his crush took it as a sign he was overheating and they dragged him to the bathroom to splash water to his face.

"It is too warm for a turtle neck and scarf! Your face is very warm!"

Ivan shook his head, face getting redder from the embarrassment.

"Nyet!"

His crush gave a look of confusion, and Ivan took this as a sign to try and explain.

"You do much of the talking. I... Do much of the seeing. Nyet. I do much of the-"

He gestured his gaze to his crush's lips, unable to convey his message and when it still didn't sink in for them, Ivan did the next best thing out of pure frustration.

He kissed them. It felt like forever, but it was cut too short as the sound of a gasp interrupted them. Breaking away he spotted Francis standing at the door that was left wide open. A phone with the light on, signalling it was recording them.

"Oh ho ho! This is quite the confession! A love that goes beyond language barriers is just as strong as love itself!"

Ivan couldn't seem to follow Francis' words, especially because he was more concerned with the phone footage.

"You take video for just us, da?"

Francis gave a smirk and took off without another word. Ivan wasn't dumb when it came to body language, and he took off after him. Taking no time at all to corner Francis, scaring everyone else as the two of them bickered over the phone.

"Throw out the phone!"

"I will do no such thing!

"I will throw you instead!"

It took his crush snagging the phone and deleting the video for everything to finally settle back down.

England:

He was kind of popular in the sense everyone knew him as the punk kid who could play the electric guitar. But so did others students so he wasn't exactly special. So yeah, he was wicked shy and insecure about how everyone viewed him.

But his crush seemed to treat him differently, and honestly? He was secretly hoping that meant they really liked him. Maybe even more than liked!

The best part is, he wasn't even expecting his crush to show up at some random person's party. He, himself, was only there to help a band entertain. But there they were, his crush, dancing and bopping along to the music.

He found himself making a lot of eye contact with them, and when the first break came around, he bounced off the makeshift stage. His crush immediately walking over to him to pester.

"That was amazing! I didn't know you played so well!"

Arthur pulled at his bangs.

"Thanks love. It means quite a lot coming from you. Especially because you didn't expect to see me here, of all places..."

"Actually I-"

Before they could continue, they were dragged off by some of their friends to be introduced to someone. He decided to follow, wanting to know what the fuss was about. And of course his crush's friends were trying to hook them up with... Francis...

He gave a verbal sigh, watching his crush shift uncomfortably as Francis did his best to act all suave. His crush looked back at him with pleading eyes. This gave him an idea.

He walked over, slinging an arm around their shoulder, speaking up and over their conversation.

"There you are darling! I've been searching the whole bloody house for you! Oh, hello Francis. I didn't see you there!"

Things got intense, and before anyone knew it, Francis and Arthur had gotten into a fist fight. There wasn't a particular winner, but Arthur certainly left the fight with the only bruised lip. Sitting at one of the spare couches, his crush tended to the bruise.

"I can't believe you did that! Are you nuts? Why do you two fight anyway!"

"I'm sorry love... It's just... He gets in the way is all".

"In the way of what? Some male pride?"

"...you"

Silence filled the space between them, only to be broken by the chaste and airy kiss from his crush.

"I didn't know..."

"Part of me didn't want you too..."

Neither of them knew someone had recorded them until the day they returned to the college. Someone had thought it was funny to make a "fancam" of Arthur "fighting for his loved one". The only words his new lover could mutter was:

"At least no one is going to have to ask us if we're together now..."

#hetalia #aph #hws #hetalia japan #hetalia canada #hetalia russia #hetalia england #human au

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stitch1830 · 3 years

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Heyy, how are you? Sorry if I'm annoying you I just want to give a little bit of my opinion about Toph as a mother.

I personally think that Lok did something very weird with their character and how they portrayed her as mother because it's difficult for me to believe that Toph would be the kind of mother to let her kids do whatever they want AND not pay enough attention to them. Like the whole issue with her parents is that they treated her like she was helpless, they didn't pay attention to her and they ignored what she wanted. So I personally don't see why Toph would do the same to her kids, like why would she kind of ignore them by not being very present and attentive.

I belive that Toph would be an amazing mother. With flaws of course, because no one is perfect.

I hope I made myself understandable, English is not my first language and it's difficult for me to express what I think even in my own language.

Btw I love your hcs and the way you think :E

Hi Anon, I’m doing well thank you for asking, and thanks for the ask! I hope all is well with you.

And not to worry! You’re not annoying me :)

First off, I love your thoughts and opinions on Toph as a mother when it comes to LOK. You are right, I too feel that her characterization is a bit off, and I’ve talked only briefly on my thoughts about this as well. I see what the writers were trying to do, but it doesn’t really come off right if we consider Toph’s background and her issues with her parents, as well as her overall characterization.

Like, Toph Beifong is one of the most observant people in the ATLA universe. She understands what people need, she can pick up on changes in mood and tell when people are lying, and she waits and listens on the other person to move to decide what her next move will be. Toph is one of those characters that other members of the Gaang open up to, and she picks up on things pretty fast for a kid.

So why would those traits/tendencies not carry over when she taking care of her kids?

Toph’s seismic sense would most likely alert her and she would know if something was upsetting Lin or Suyin, even if they didn’t say anything to her. And sure, she’s prideful, but that’s never stopped her from asking for someone’s help in the Gaang (one scene that comes to mind is when she asks Katara to correspond with her parents). She’d obviously prefer to handle things on her own, but there have been times where she does admit to fault. So it would make more sense to me if she notices the change in her kid’s mood, try and figure out what’s wrong on her own, and if that didn’t work, turn to others.

And you’re right, ‘abandoning’ her kids would not be a flaw in Toph’s parenting style. You said it—she was neglected and not seen as her true self with her parents, and that led to the strained relationship. I think it’s safe to say that she would want to do the opposite of what her parents did to raise her, and the main point in Lao and Poppy’s parenting failures was that they only saw Toph as their tiny disabled child. So, not understanding her kids wants and needs doesn’t seem right. She reads people and observes their tendencies to get to know them, and that’s how she determines how to handle a situation.

So, if Lin came stomping home one day frustrated about something, I don’t think Toph’s instinct would be “Eh she’ll figure it out, she needs freedom.” I feel like it would be more like “Okay, is Lin sad? Upset? Angry? What does she need next in order to feel better?” And maybe her execution is flawed, but I think at the very least, Toph would ask her kids what is wrong and try and determine what they need to feel better. Maybe it’s a moment to themselves, maybe it’s a conversation, maybe it’s just comfort. But she would need to ask, and then wait for a reaction to determine her next move.

I struggle to come up with an actual parenting flaw with her sometimes, only because I love her character and like the idea of her being this amazing single mom and having a family that breaks the entertainment stereotype of “If it isn’t a nuclear family, it’s gotta look broken.” I guess one that comes to mind would be that she waits and listens too much… if that makes sense. Like, if Lin or Suyin don’t react or respond in a way that engages them with Toph, maybe she wouldn’t push the conversation further. Parenting does take initiative on the parent’s end when it comes to conflict and problems, and I think for those situations, Toph would rely on her earthbending tendencies and wait for the problem to approach her, and then she’d face it head on. An example I can think of is that Lin would prefer if her mother came to her about stuff, especially praise, and maybe since that’s not something Lin would explicitly state or something that Toph can feel, that need would go unnoticed if that makes sense.

Those are my thoughts, hopefully they make sense! And I agree with you, sometimes it’s just so hard to convey feelings and opinions into writing. Lol and I’m sure my thoughts are flawed just because I love Toph’s character so much, but I think she would be an awesome parent, and it’s a shame we don’t get to see that. I do enjoy reading metas about why Toph was portrayed as a bad parent, it helps give me some perspective on character creation and what makes them dynamic. But in my purely self-indulgent ATLA world, Toph ROCKS (pun intended) and she’s a great parent we take for GRANITE (okay I’m done now lmao).

Thank you again for the ask, and the kind words! I’m glad someone out there also likes my HC’s and thoughts lol! Feel free to send in more asks; I especially love a good question/HC about Taang, Zutara, or Sukka lol (also I'm off work today, what else am I gonna do haha).

Hope you have a great day :)

#toph #atla #mama toph #lin #suyin #my asks #thanks for the ask!#toph was a good mama okay?#at least in my head lol #who need canon hahaha #also wow I like to ramble #sorry

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firefliesintheskyline · 4 years

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So. I decided to do something extremely weird. Which is : listen to the van scene in every language available on Netflix US. Be aware, it’s more like an experiment, and my commentary on it is supported by absolutely nothing except my own ears. So don’t expect anything accurate, just what my own gut’s gonna tell me!!

(Full disclaimer : Italian and French are my main languages, I know English well, I understand Spanish... and I know absolutely nothing about German. Lol. The last one is gonna be extremely fun.)

Ready? Let’s start!

FRENCH : The part in Italian is... off. Out of curiosity, I checked the Malta scene, and I have to say... The pronunciation is bad-ish, and makes me feel like Nicolò has never set foot in Italy in his entire existence. Maybe it would have been better not to dub Nicolò’s lines?

Oh, here’s an interesting choice! They use the word “p’tit copain” as a translation for “boyfriend”, which I feel makes the entire thing even worse (so in a sense better for the purposes of the scene/movie), ‘cause that’s a word you normally use to talk about a high school sweetheart, and certainly not a grown ass man. As far as mockery goes, I think we reached next level fuckin’ homofobes

The declaration per se is well-translated, but Marc Saez (the french dubbing actor) sounds... a bit too angry. I feel like he “overcharges” some words with bitterness that was not quite necessary. Nicky’s answer is adorably dubbed!

Overall, I would give it a 6 1⁄2

NEXT!!!

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ITALIAN : I honestly CANNOT BELIEVE they switched the word “Destati” with the modern version “Svegliati”. Did you consider that maybe - JUST MAYBE - there was a reason behind the idea of usiNG THE ARCHAIC VERSION OF THE WORD???

Booker’s betrayal is nothing, NOTHING compared to this

Well, what can I say? I was kinda expecting for it to be a little overdramatic. I mean, it’s frankly obvious that Simone Crisari is only trying to convey the passion in his one-minute speech, but I feel like he ends up putting too much emphasis on his lines, going for the grandiose effect rather then just let the words do the job for him.

But how am I gonna blame someone for being too passionate especially since my Italian ass is known among my non-Italian friends as the dramatic one ?

I think I can go with a strong 7

NEEEEEXT!!!

GERMAN : once again, I really don’t know german, so this one is going to be completely sounds-related, with the help of subtitles (but I did make sure to listen to a few other scenes to make myself familiar with the dubbing actors voices)

The Italian part is nice, but that’s also easier when one out of the two dubbing actors is Italian vi piace vincere facile tedeschi eh

Just as the French dub, I feel like there’s too much anger lingering in the lines. Asad Schwarz reeeally goes for it, and at some weird point it almost feels like the soldier becomes his entire focus, which... nope. It should always be Nicky? But it doesn’t last enough for it to be really noticeable unless you are breaking down every single instant of the scene like me

I don’t know if the translation is well done, so I’m just gonna trust my german peeps and give it an 8

LAAAAAAAAAST!!!!!!

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SPANISH : OH WHAT A BOLD, BOLD CHOICE. My Spanish people really said “nope, we are not gonna risk it, let’s just leave Marwan’s and Luca’s voices for the italian bits” which is even more hilarious if you think how close these languages are, they probably had the easiest job. They also don’t do it for the other scenes! Which! Confuses me even more!!

I would have absolutely 0 problems with it if it wasn’t for the fact that Marwan’s voice and his spanish voice actor’s dub (I can’t find his name anywhere, I would really appreciate the info if someone knows it!) have literally NOTHING to do with one another, so the effect is a little weird when they switch from a language to the other.

That said. Oh. My God. This is just... amazing. This is by far the CLOSEST someone’s got to Marwan’s intention in delivering the speech. There’s just enough anger, just enough passion, but most importantly, the lines are delivered with the confidence of someone who knows these men are absolutely insignificant. Every word is an assertion, no need to overdo it I’m almost crying and I feel like Nicky’s voice actor dub was about to cry as well

You, my good friend, deserve a 9 1⁄2

OKAY I’M FINALLY WRAPPING THIS THING UP but before I go let me just say that dubbing is a difficult job because you only have the use of your voice to convey an intention, and I respect every single human being that does this amazing job, so take this post just as it is the dumb thoughts of a chick with too much time in her hands and not anything serious!

Aaaaand.....scene

#the old guard #tog #nicolo di genova #yusuf al kaysani #joe x nicky #nicky x joe #yusuf x nicolo #nicolo x yusuf #immortal husbands #kaysanova #van scene #random thoughts

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agent-cupcake · 3 years

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Garreg Mach Café

Episode One: Dead Eye (Dimitri x Reader)

Yes this is a coffee shop AU and yes I intend to do a few of these because I am basic and this is fun to work on while violently procrastinating and yes I’m a little sorry. Just a little.

From the moment you keyed your employee code into the machine and clocked in until your shoes met the cracked pavement covering the parking lot out back, the hours you spent selling coffee and faking smiles were slotted into a strange fugue state in your mind. Existence in only the most technical sense.

Morning shifts were the worst for that sense of customer service depersonalization. After the initial rush, which you usually got through with the crutch of obscene amounts of caffeine and focus, weekdays always fell away into an exhausting kind of lull. You might as well have been living in a private world where only you, the radio with a station you weren’t allowed to change, and a minifridge of overpriced mineral waters that needed restocking existed. Which was pretty fine, all things considered. The downtime was nice.

Until you were disturbed by the swooshing sound of the opening door, a rush of cold outside air, and the distinctively familiar jingle of bells. At this point, you were pretty sure that perky tinkling sound activated some sort of twisted fight or flight mechanism deep in your gut. Despite that, you stood up straight from organizing the display and put on your best service smile, sidling up to the register. Just in time to have the air knocked right out of your lungs.

Well, not literally. You were pretty sure that cliché was a line used in books to convey the inherent frailty of the female condition. There was no such romanticism to your reaction. It would have been more accurate to say that your caffeine-hyped brain shorted out when you got a good look at the customer who had just come in because you were simple and weak and that amount of handsome on your abysmal amount of sleep made you forgot how to breathe for a moment or twenty.

The most obvious and immediately striking aspect of the man was the eyepatch. Not some basic pastel goth kind of white bandage attached with ribbons, but a properly utilitarian black piece that cut harsh lines of black across his pretty blond hair. Had you ever seen somebody in real life wearing one? Your spastic thoughts lingered on that for a second before deciding it didn’t really matter. It was barely even a factor in your undoubtedly impolite staring. You dealt with exhausted people from every demographic while selling, making, and serving coffee. Snappy, loopy, mean, giggly, you knew sleep deprivation in nearly every form and function. Never did you realize in full that it also came in its premium form: devastatingly handsome.

He was gorgeous. Like, drop-dead level gorgeous. So, yeah, maybe it wasn’t too corny for you to say that this tall blond with a sharp jaw, nice cheekbones, and broad shoulders covered in a dark blazer/blue sweater combo of expensive if understated business casual took your breath away. You were, after all, occasionally subject to the frailty of the female condition.

Be professional! Your sane mind —or at least the part that wasn’t dominated by the giddy mix of shy nerves and creepy admiration— urged.

Right. Professional.

“Good morning!” you greeted him with belated cheerfulness, managing to pull your jaw up from the floor before he stopped in front of the counter. “Are you ready to order, or do you need a moment?” He didn’t respond at first, which almost made your smile falter. His eye, ringed in the telltale shadow of a sleepless night, was blue. Really, ultra blue. You forced yourself to keep up the act, to stick to the script. “If this is your first time here, I could walk you through the menu.”

The man cleared his throat, shaking his head a little as he glanced —awkwardly, like he wasn’t actually looking but he needed a reason to avert his gaze— up to the menu. He’d gathered about half of his longish hair into a tail in the back, but the shorter strands framing his face fluttered with the movement. Did you have a thing for guys with long hair? You couldn’t remember, but you were pretty sure you did now. “No… Thank you,” he replied somewhat apologetically. His voice was low, holding this kind of rough, husky tone. In other words, it was nearly enough to send you right back out of your customer service mode and into a swooning catastrophe. “Could you make a dead eye?”

The request was made, accepted, and then it registered. And, really, you liked to think you were a good person. You really, really did.

“A dead… eye…” you repeated slowly, internally screaming at yourself to not stare at the glaring black eyepatch covering his right eye or crack a smile at the horrible joke. Good Lord. You didn’t like to think that you were a bad person, or a mean person. You were a professional, you’d dealt with a lot while keeping a straight face. So you cleared your throat. “A black coffee with a triple espresso shot, right. Is that to go?”

“Yes,” he agreed with a sharp nod, ready with cash and very obviously not realizing the dark humor of what he’d ordered or the reason you were trying very, very hard not to make this all very, horribly awkward. No, he looked exhausted. And attractive. You were a very bad person. So you told him the total and broke the twenty and quickly turned to make the drink because a good cup of coffee was just about the only way you could apologize for your wicked, terrible thoughts.

Since there were no other customers queuing up, he was fine to wait at the counter, watching you make the drink. You pretended like you couldn’t feel his intense gaze, bobbing your head to the piped-in indie music playing in the background. The song was awful, truly, you really didn’t think there was anything you wanted to hear less than some young nobody with a guitar butchering the English language in an ode to their unrequited love. At the very least, not at ten-thirty in the morning on a Tuesday. At least you didn’t mess up, so there was something to be said for your so-called professionalism.

“Here you go,” you said as you handed him the to-go cup with as wide of a smile as you could muster all the while working very, very hard not to think that it was a dead eye for a dead eye. You were going to hell.

Ignorant to your thoughts, he met your gaze intently —his iris wasn’t any sort of bright, intimidating electric blue, but something softer like cornflower or powder or the dreamy gentle pale afternoon sky— and accepted the cup with a black gloved hand. “You have my most sincere thanks.”

You heard yourself laugh a little in response, but it was a bright and overly jittery sound, not only because you were trying desperately to be polite but because you couldn’t help but feel a bubble of strangely excitable disbelief that he would be so serious about something that was so mundane. Not to mention the fact that he was so handsome or that his voice was as candid as his words implied and gruff in a way you really liked. At the very least, it drove out all intrusively poor taste jokes.

“Oh, it was nothing,” you said, the words coming from your lips without so much as a thought that it was definitely not apart of the preapproved corporate script. “Wait ‘till you see what I can do with the mixed drinks.”

He considered you for what felt like ages before finally nodding. “I will look forward to it.” Despite the lack of irony, there wasn’t even a hint of a smile playing on his lips to match your own. Just more of that discomforting, intense sincerity that you couldn’t tell if you liked or not. And that was basically the end of that because you had no idea what to say other than to wish him a good day. He left, your handsome strange customer, the bells jingling merrily behind him.

After the door closed to the temperamental winter air, you melted, bracing your arms on the counter as you felt jittery nerves work through you. It took a moment to collect yourself, but when you did, you realized that he’d left a great tip, too. Fantastic tip, actually. Which, ultimately, was what got you. There was something uniquely sexy about rich guys who were kind to the underpaid and overworked wait staff.

That comforting customer service fugue state didn’t return after that. You were too caught up wondering about his name, or why he was so tired that he’d need such a potent drink, or if you were to take his words to mean that he was coming back. You probably shouldn’t have hoped for that as much as you did, but you could blame it on the inherent frailty of the female condition.

#fire emblem three houses #fe3h #dimitri alexandre blaiddyd #fe dimitri #fire emblem dimitri #dimitri alexandre blaiddyd x reader #fe dimitri x reader #fire emblem dimitri x reader #my writing #this is dumb #i don't care #yuri or felix next #probably #maybe #who's to say #i've been reading rhythm of war and it's TOUGH so i need cute

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coffintownkids · 3 years

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Alrighty! Ch. 32 is done and such brings an end to the 朝露 arc. I’m sure y’all remember the cute scene in The Untamed/CQL when WWX comes across a group of kids playing make-believe about the Sunshot Campaign. This is the chapter where that takes place. However, as previously mentioned, we’ve actually never met pretty much any of the characters involved first-hand. So this is again slowly filling the readers in about how the world perceives all these characters.

I couldn’t decide what part I liked best...So you get the entire scene! Very long post beneath the cut.

*EDITED* @weishenmewwx was nice enough to help me fix a couple of errors. Thank You!!!

The group of children stopped chasing it, then gathered together to start seriously wracking their brains over it, “What do we do since no one shot down the Sun? It fell by itself, so who’s the Leader now?”

One of them raised a hand, “It’s obviously me! I’m Jīn Guāngyáo and I killed the greatest villain from the House of Wēn!”

Wèi Wúxiàn sat on the inn’s front steps and watched on with great pleasure.

In games like this, there was boundless high regard for the Chief Cultivator Liǎnfang-Zūn. Of course, everyone would welcome playing that role the most. Although his background made people too embarrassed to speak of it, it was precisely because of it that him climbing to the highest position made people gasp even more in admiration of his achievements. During the Sunshot Campaign, he had acted as a spy for a number of years and had been a natural at it. He had run around in circles deceiving the entire Wēn Sect of Qíshān both inside and out, having them divulge countless secrets without even realizing it. After the Sunshot Campaign, he was fawned over in every possible way with terrific amounts of cleverness and an extreme variety of methods. Finally, he took the position of Chief Cultivator and became the person fully deserving of ranking first among the multitude of cultivation Houses. Such a life can be called legendary. If was playing, he would also want to try out for the part of Jīn Guāngyáo. Picking this little boy to be the Leader was just common sense!

So JGY is super well-liked by everyone, or so we’re led to believe at this point in the story. It’s mentioned in the novel very early on that he is JGS’s bastard, but it’s definitely pretty much glossed over and this certainly makes it sound like nobody cared about his “embarrassing” history. (We will come to learn this is, in fact, bullshit.) BUT, WWX does seem to think quite well of him.

Fun language bit about the “fawned over in every possible way with terrific amounts of cleverness and an extreme variety of methods.” The sentence uses 百般, 千般, 万般 to show the increase of how much praise got heaped upon him as 百=100, 千=1,000, and 万=10,000.

My other takeaway, which I think the show did a pretty bad job at conveying, was the passage of time and that JGY was actually with the Wēn Sect for years.

Moving on.

Another one of them protested, “I’m Niè Míngjué and I’ve won the most battles and have had the most captives surrender to me. I should be the Leader!”

‘Jīn Guāngyáo’ said, “But I’m the Chief Cultivator.”

‘Niè Míngjué’ raised his fist, “So what if you’re Chief Cultivator. You’re also my sān-dì, so you won’t see me running off with my tail between my legs.”

As expected, ‘Jīn Guāngyáo’ was rather well-suited at getting into character. He hunched his shoulders and ran away.

Sān-dì (三弟) just means third brother. AKA JGY was the youngest within 3zun.

Then another kid said, “You’re the one that died young.”

Since he had chosen to be a certain cultivation head, he naturally had been looking forward to being said cultivation head a little bit. ‘Niè Míngjué’ got mad, “Jīn Zixuān, you died earlier than I did. You had an even shorter life!”

‘Jīn Zixuān’ was unconvinced, “So what if I died younger? I was ranked Number Three!”

“Being ranked Number Three just means your looks were ranked Number Three!”

At that point, one of the little boys seemed tired of both running and standing, so he slowly walked over by the steps and sat down by Wèi Wúxiàn. He waved his hand like he was some sort of mediator and said, “Alright already, there’s no need to fight about it. I’m the Yílíng Lǎozǔ, so I’m the most awesome.”

Wèi Wúxiàn, “……”

He glanced down and, sure enough, the little kid was carrying a little branch at his waist that was probably meant to be Chénqíng.

There was actually a child pure enough to not bother arguing about good and evil. He was only debating the value of combat abilities and had willing taken up the honor of being the Yílíng Lǎozǔ.

Another kid said, “No way. I’m the Sāndú Shèngshǒu and I’m the most awesome.”

The ‘Yílíng Lǎozǔ’ rather understandingly said, “Jiāng Chéng! What can you do that’s better than me? When haven’t you lost to me? How is it a good idea for you to say you’re the most awesome? Aren’t you embarrassed?”

‘Jiāng Chéng’ said, “Hmph! How am I better than you? Do you remember how you died?”

Wèi Wúxiàn’s faint smile got wiped right off his face once his meaning sunk in.

It was like being jabbed with a highly poisonous needle without warning and it sent faint prickling pain throughout his entire body.

Oof. That is a lot.

The ‘Yílíng Lǎozǔ’ next to him clapped, “Look at me! On my left is Chénqíng, on my right is the Tiger Seal. Plus I have the Ghost General. There are none beneath Heaven that are my equal! Hahahaha…” He had a stick in his left hand, a stone in his right, and was laughing hysterically, “Wēn Níng, come out!” A kid in the back of the crowd raised his hand and weakly said, “I’m here…that’s…I want to say…during the Sunshot Campaign, I didn’t die, either...”

Wèi Wúxiàn felt that he couldn’t not interrupt.

He said, “Fellow cultivators, can I ask you a question?”

The children had never had an adult take part when they played this game before, let alone one that didn’t scold them and was completely serious about asking them a question. The ‘Yílíng Lǎozǔ’ was giving him a strange and guarded look as he said, “What do you want to ask?”

Wèi Wúxiàn said, “Why don’t you have any people from the Lán Sect of Gūsū?”

“We do!”

“Where are they?”

The ‘Yílíng Lǎozǔ’ pointed at a kid that hadn’t opened his mouth to say a single word from the start, “That’s him.”

Wèi Wúxiàn looked at him and, sure enough, he was completely fine-featured and looked like a charming child. He had a clean, white string wrapped around his forehead to serve as his head ribbon. He asked, “Who is he?”

The ‘Yílíng Lǎozǔ’ disdainfully curled his lip and said, “Lán Wàngjī!”

…Great. This group of children grasped his essence. If you’re playing the part of Lán Wàngjī you really ought to shut up and not talk!

Then suddenly, the corners of Wèi Wúxiàn’s mouth began to curl again.

That little poisoned needle got pulled out and he didn’t know what cranny it got tossed into, but all the stinging pain had instantly been swept away. Wèi Wúxiàn said to himself, “It’s both wonderful and strange. He’s such a stuffy person. Why does he always make me feel so happy?”

*yelling* Why does he make you so happy, WWX? Any guesses?

I’ve seen this translated as “boring” instead of “stuffy” so I’ll explain a bit. The word used is 闷 (mèn) which can be read as boring, so that’s not wrong. But, it’s a little more nuanced than that. It can also mean something “sealed tight” or “suffocate” or “shut indoors.” Like how a hot room without circulation can be called “stuffy.” But in English, we can use stuffy to mean someone that’s kinda old-fashioned and very stuck on being prim and proper. Which certainly is someone people might consider “boring”! I just didn’t think “boring” alone really captured it though.

Of course, this is when LWJ finally emerges from his Fortress of Solitude (after needing time to get through his Gay Panic.)

When Lán Wàngjī came downstairs, he saw Wèi Wúxiàn sitting on the steps and sharing a steamed bun with a group of children. Wèi Wúxiàn was eating his bun while directing two children that were back-to-back in front of him. “……There are currently countless Wēn cultivators before. They’re all armed and they’ve got you completely surrounded. Keep your eyes sharp. Yes, just like that. OK. Lán Wàngjī, pay attention. This isn’t the current you during peacetime. You’re covered in blood! Your killing intent is so heavy! Your expression is so fierce! Wèi Wúxiàn, get a bit closer to him. Aren’t you going to twirl your flute? Let’s see you twirl it one-handed. Have pizzazz. Do you know what pizzazz is? Come let me teach you.” ‘Wèi Wúxiàn’ made an “oh” sound and handed over the thin stick he was carrying. Wèi Wúxiàn rather skillfully and swiftly twirled ‘Chénqíng’ around between two of his fingers, causing the group of kids to whoop with excitement.

Lán Wàngjī, “……”

He quietly walked over and Wèi Wúxiàn saw him coming, so he brushed off the dust from his backside and called out his goodbyes to the kids. It had been so easy to just stand up and walk along the road with a smile. It was oddly like being drugged.

Lán Wàngjī, “……”

Wèi Wúxiàn, “Hahahahahaha, I’m sorry, Hánguāng-Jūn. I ended up sharing the breakfast I bought for you with them. I’ll buy more for us in a moment.”

Lán Wàngjī, “Okay.”

Wèi Wúxiàn, “How about it? Weren’t those two kids just now cute? Who do you suspect the kid with the string around his head was imitating? Hahahaha…”

He was speechless for a moment, then Lán Wàngjī ultimately couldn’t help saying, “……What exactly did I do last night?”

It definitely couldn’t have been anything simple. Otherwise, why did it make Wèi Wúxiàn keep laughing???

Wèi Wúxiàn kept waving his hand, “No, no, no, no, no. You didn’t do anything. I was just being silly, hahahahahaha…Alright, ahem, Hánguāng-Jūn, I swear I’ll talk business.”

Lán Wàngjī said, “Go ahead.”

Apparently WWX missed his calling and should have gotten into theater!

And poor LWJ is still panicking.

So now they’re off to Shǔdōng and we’ll be starting the Yi City arc next.

#mdzs #ctk reads mdzs #mdzs translation #my translation

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slowlyreadinghouseofmirth · 3 years

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Page 7

In truth, he had never liked her as well as at that moment -> Selden's affections here are plain to see, made so especially by subordinate clause 'in truth' which conveys an honesty and freshness about his feelings. Most importantly, he likes her when she is being her true self, unconventional, and willing to take risk. It's likely informed by his disillusion with high society and finding commonality in someone willing to disregard its etiquette. This is where Lily is unique.

There's also this sense that Selden likes Lily because she is impulsive and this sparks his curiosity to try and understand why she does the things she does-- understand Lily as a person.

He knew she had accepted without afterthought: -> This reaffirms Lily's lack of hesitancy, which alludes to how willing she is to be in Selden's company. It also shows how comfortable she is with him as she is aware of the rumours that could occur but never merits them with being a possibility, showing great trust.

Alternatively, being aware of the risks and having not afterthoughts could suggest that she doesn't fully understand the risks' depth and nuance as in future the situation at Monte Carlo would suggest, but I'm getting ahead of myself.

he could never be a factor in her calculations -> there's a colon that separates this clause from the previous one which suggests this is an explanation for Lily's certainty. To me this would point more towards Lily not really associating the risk of rumours with Selden because she trusts him so much. i.e she does not think of him when she thinks of the risks. But given that they are going up to his apartment it seems strange that Selden would not think himself a factor in her decision. It's therefore possible that he thinks that Lily does not think of him worthy of great consideration.

Also the noun 'calculations' would suggest a lot of thought had gone into the decision where it was previously implied it was one of impulse. This seems like Selden thinks that Lily is playing an intricate game, which further demonstrates his curiosity about her and need to understand her.

there was a surprise, a refreshment almost, in the spontenaity of her consent -> This further contrasts Selden's perception of Lily's 'calculations' and I think the narration is a fine weave between objective reality--where Lily is impulsive-- and Selden's subjective perceptions-- where Lily appears impulsive but there is something more complex informing her decisions. I think this is meant to show that Selden is blinded somewhat by his affections for Lily, seeing things deeper than what are there or what everybody else sees. Alternatively, we as the reader lack Selden's sight into the complexities of Lily and so she is introduced to us as other people see her, which isn't well at all, and we have to learn how Selden sees her. It's a challenge to care for Lily as he does.

The spontaneity invokes a light hearted and refreshing feeling of being in love which mirrors the honest of truth mentioned earlier.

So there's Selden's surprise at Lily being so spontaneous which draws back to a previous point about she is unique for being impulsive almost reckless. It's like we get a sense of her character and her environment from how the two are at odds with each other. Lily is impulsive; noone else of her class should be like that. In a way that makes her free from the system and yet shows her struggle against it but ultimately her struggle will be more defining.

She noticed the letters and notes heaped on the table -> I assume that this is a reference to future letters although I don't know if they would be the same ones. If they were, I don't even have the mental capacity to unpack that. Just the thought that Lily's fall is inevitable, that even when she is happy, having a nice time, an unknown omen lurks within the same room that will bring her sorrow... oh its symbolic, for sure. But I don't want to think about it.

Lily sank into one of the shabby leather chairs -> the verb 'sank' shows how at home Lily really is with this kind of surroundings, how the shabby whilst not fashionable or expensive, is comfortable. From this we and the the pile of letters we get an image of a a slightly disorderly but well-lived in home. This is one of the tragedies where we see the possibility of what her future with Selden could look like where it is unconventional but Lily is comfortable at home even with it.

"How delicious to have a place like this all to oneself! What a miserable thing it is to be a woman," -> I love Lily's exaggerated turns of phrases like 'delicious' and the exclamations; I think Wharton's emphasis on these exaggerations is to capture Lily's innocence through her speech by making it similar to that of a child who is easily excitable.

Again with the exaggeration but this time with 'miserable', we get the sense that Lily has found the world difficult as a woman to live in but miserable seems too strong of a word, certainly at this stage in the book and is sort of hidden within her other hyperbolised expressions. Maybe this creates a kind of cry-wolf situation where, when Lily properly starts to struggle, people don't take notice not only because it wasn't the done thing to do to talk about struggles but also because of her melodramatic personality, everyone thought the same stuff was happening as it had before and Lily was making a big fuss over nothing.

There is repetition of 'miserable' in association to being of female sex further down the page which is another example of Lily's melodrama. But at this point we as a modern audience start to question if she is actually alright (or at least I did). I'm not sure if a contempary audience if the time would have given the strict taboo over discussing any kind of struggle financial/physical health etc. let alone the discussion of mental health. From the impression I get of the time, the only real source of outlet for people struggling with mental health beyond self medication was art, which makes me wonder as to the position Wharton is writing this from.

she leaned back in a luxury of discontent -> The juxtaposition of 'luxury' and 'discontent' raises an important theme that wealth does not equate happiness and that Lily is not happy as a socialite but happy in the company of Selden, and that actually money is the source of Lily's unhappiness. In this specific context, she is lamenting her lack of freedom to live the lifestyle that Selden does.

"Even women," he said "Have been know to enjoy the privaledges of a flat." -> Putting the discourse marker directly after the subject of 'women' breaks it apart from the rest of the sentence and emphasises the extraordinariness of women being able to live independently. But it also raises the possibility of it and suggests that Selden thinks Lily is extraordinary and unconventional enough to achieve the possibility if she chose to.

"Oh governesses– or widows. But not girls– not poor, miserable, marriageable girls!" -> Again we have the breakdown of womanhood into distinct classes like governess, widows, and girls,which creates the idea that there's no intersections between any of them and is a reflection of of societies fixation for categorisation which loses sight the complexity of situations and problems. And it also makes it easier to place social stigmas like those on governesses and widows. Those stigmas are made apparent here but in contrast to how Lily describes girls, being a governess or a widow seems desirable.

In the list of adjectives 'poor, miserable, marriageable', marriageable is equated to these other adjectives and we see that Lily associates marriage with a poverty of kind, of the heart.

It's also interesting that Lily talks about herself as a girl where Selden speaks of her as a woman. Lily plays up her innocence as she has probably been taught to to make desirable marital match, but with that Lily carries around an air of immaturity and naïvity; she's still very child-like. Perhaps that's a part of her that's trying to cling to her youth so she doesn't have to face her future where she will need to marry to survive. Lily sees her adulthood as a constraint on her and her desires whereas Selden sees her potential.

"you mean Gerty Farish," she smiled a little unkindly. "But I said marriageable–" -> Okay so definitely a little tone deaf on Lily's part buts she's honest to a fault and her honesty is refreshing and entertaining.

I'm no expect on autism and don't claim to be but there's something about Lily's mannerisms here that reminds me of people who I know and am very close with who are autistic. And it makes me wonder if Lily was autistic and neurodivergence was recognised in her time if her fate would have been any different.

"Her cook does the washing and her food tastes if soup. I should hate that you know." -> I just love the imagery of the first sentence, it strikes my funnybone. I guess it also illustrates that Lily's privileged upbringing if she thinks this is a bad situation to live in.

Okay I'm going to bring in a bit of a technical term to describe the verb 'should'. So it's a modal verb (expressing possibility based on context) but specifically a deontic modal verbal, meaning that Lily's hate depends on social rules. When she says she should hate it it implies that society wants her to hate it but she wouldn't necessarily hate it. That's what that verb phrase implies in today's english, but language has changed since the time it was written so it may not have been written with this meaning, especially as a signifier of an older text is the use of modal verbs in places we wouldn't today and a lot more of them.

The shift from Selden's reflections to the quick dialogue and short simple sentences of action creates a lively and charged atmosphere that feels almost flirtatious in its rhythm but by the nature of the content is more domestic (preparing afternoon tea). The balanced turn taking feels comfortable in that they both have equal power in the conversation, being allowed to say what they want to and being listened to. It goes towards simulating what a possible future could be and also shows how happy they are in this moment.

#House of mirth #hom blogging #hom meta #Page 7 #Okay so I'm writing out these explanations ant half two in the morning off an emotional high/low of finishing sex ed s3 so apologies #I also did an English exam today so I may be more formal than usual sorry

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hongism · 3 years

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Hello again Caly 👋🏻 It's been a while, I'm sorry. I’m the anon that messaged you about asking for advice/your opinion on something related to writing a while ago. 🥺 So basically my question would be: what's your stance on writing fan fiction for real people? Do you think it’s fine or kind of weird and why do you think so?

I’ve also written out my background/thoughts for context. You can totally skip that, I just thought it might make sense to explain where I’m coming from. I’m sorry in advance for the wall of text that will follow. I’m very bad at keeping it short. 😭

So, I used to be a writer. I started out with kpop fan fiction when I was around 14 (I’m 24 now), but I stopped writing for kpop groups when I was around 17. From then on I wrote fan fiction for fictional characters, mostly anime characters, but I stopped sometime last year. I still have a lot of unfinished ideas I want to write, a lot of them include fictional characters, but others include real people, like the Ateez members or another group’s members, and that's the problem. Let me explain a little further: After a very painful breakup in the second half of last year I got back into kpop. More than ever. While I was casually listening to a few groups before, I suddenly started getting into like 10 groups within a really short amount of time (got7, mx, dreamcatcher, everglow, skz, svt, oneus etc. just to name a few). It’s been great so far, because the music and the groups are kind of a safe haven to me (if that makes sense). I mean, Kpop really helps me cope and kind of escape or make reality a little easier, I'm sure there are more people out there who feel the way I do. I wouldn’t say I’m overly obsessed or anything, but Kpop just is my biggest source of comfort right now, so sometimes I wonder "isn’t this a bit much?“. It’s a difficult topic. But anyways, of course one of the groups I got into was Ateez, otherwise I probably wouldn't be here writing this right now. So I listened to fireworks when it came out and I was impressed and instantly fell in love with them. A little while after that, when I still couldn’t match all of their names with their faces, I started browsing the ao3 tag out of curiosity and I stumbled across moc. I absolutey fell in love with the story and every aspect of it. It also inspired me to write myself again! I've had so many old and new ideas flood my mind, but I really haven't gotten around to write anything yet, because the fact that I'd be writing fan fiction for real people as an adult woman makes me feel kind of uneasy? But I don’t want it to make me feel uneasy! You know? I think it should be fine as long as you’re capable of differentiating reality from fiction. And as an adult with common sense you usually can do that, right? But I’ve seen many people, mostly on tumblr and twitter, say that it’s just weird and wrong and that it automatically makes you a delusional and obsessive fan. So now I’m torn between wanting to realize all the ideas I have (Big thanks to you, because you, your blog and moc are a huge inspiration for me 💕 also moc is without a doubt the best fan fiction I’ve ever read. It’s just an absolutely impressive and thrilling story) and feeling like I’m not supposed or allowed to do that? I hope that makes sense. I know there’s a million other things I wanted to tell you, but I think that’s enough for now. If this is a discussion that interests you, I might comeback with my two cents. 😳 Anyways, I hope I was able to convey my inner conflict and my feelings and everything. 🥺 English isn’t my first language so it was a bit difficult to phrase everything in a way that felt right. Thank you so so much for taking the time to read and answer this. I appreciate it A LOT. I hope you have a great week ahead of you! 🥰🥰🥰

hello hun i'm sorry it took me so long to respond to your ask!! i wanted to make sure to set aside some time so i could be as thorough as possible in my response and give you my thoughts as clearly as possible!

so this debate has been something i've dealt with and struggled with a lot over the years of consuming fanfiction and creating it. i started out writing fanfiction of media like anime before getting into kpop, and it took me around 3 years to even start reading kpop fanfiction. every once in a while, the debate of whether or not real person fanfiction is okay or not comes up, and that does always discourage me. i wish i could be like 'yeah im solidly set in this opinion!' but i do still get discouraged myself, and that's something i think a lot of people struggle with! i resonate a lot with how you feel and what your opinions are and how much music and kpop means to you. i also get those worries of 'isn't this a bit much?' and such and it's a difficult thing to talk about and think about, but as you said, i think there is a line when it comes to fanfiction and life and reality

i have no issue with real person fanfiction. i tend to not read or write 'idol' aus because it feels a little too real for my comfort zone, but i will say that the people who dislike it are loud. they're hard to ignore and avoid. you aren't delusional or obsessive for enjoying fanfiction. it's called fan FICTION, meaning it's not real and it should not be meant to be real. it should be fine as long as you're able to draw the line and say 'this is not real and it will never be'. i think it's okay in some instances to be like 'man i wish i could live in this universe' while still realizing it's not real and you're not trying to force it down anyone's throats. that's the biggest thing in my mind. as long as you are not trying to shove it in these idols' faces or psychoanalyze them and their relationships, it's okay.

if someone doesn't like fanfiction, it's easy to just take a step back and say 'okay i won't talk about it/share it with you'. you can really cater your own experiences, decide what you want to see or don't want to see, but a lot of people complain about 'having' to see it. pretty much every single fanfic writer i've spoken to and encountered says they NEVER want someone to send a fanfic to an idol/the person who is in it, which is good and i think the best course of action when it comes to fanfic.

all in all, fanfic exists, it's out there, and it's FICTION. it's not real, it's not meant to be shoved in other people's faces, it's not meant to be shared with the idols who are characters in it, and most often the idols are 'place-holders' for characters. what i mean by that is they are a common place for a lot of people, something recognizable and enjoyable, but the personalities and way they're written will always differ across the board. you could think of it almost as a canvas, a person you like being a canvas for you to paint your words and stories on. writing fanfiction about kpop does not make you any less or more of a fan, it doesn't mean you don't respect and care about these idols as human beings and people, and the biggest thing to worry about is simply understanding and respecting your boundaries as a fan by not sharing it/shoving it in the idols' face.

i hope this all makes sense and isn't coming off the wrong way? but i also hope it helps you feel better and understand how i feel!! you say english isn't your first language, but i would NEVER have guessed, your english is absolutely perfect and understandable <3 thank you so much for trusting me and talking to me about this, i'm very grateful and thankful for it and your sweet words about my works 🥺💕

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couragehopelovefaith · 3 years

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Unexpected bonding

(The short fanfic based on the first proper meeting between Musa and Riven on “Fate: The Winx Saga”. English is not my first language, so apologies for the possible grammar- and spelling-mistakes.)

Musa walked across the yard, among training and chatting students, trying to calm her twirling thoughts by firmly holding the combat stick. Usually, she enjoyed the lessons and this place felt like a second home to her. But in all honesty, these last few days could've gone a lot better. For some reason, this complicated mix of excitement, worry and determination around her was harder to take than usual. Everyone was restlessly and impatiently waiting for something to happen, even though they didn't fully know what it was. But it was there, hiding in the plain sight. This was the time her help would be needed the most, but she had never felt herself so...damn useless. How she wished she could've already been in her room, put her headphones on, focused on the music and let the rest of the world keep turning by itself for a while.

The sudden flash of obvious arrogance and more hidden anger was an oddly welcoming change in the common atmosphere and attracted her attention. It didn't take long for her to figure out its source: one of specialists was training with a battle rope a few long steps away from her, clearly apart from the others. His technique appeared to be nearly flawless, but she didn't need her powers to notice that behind it there was a deep need to let his frustrations out.

Musa didn't actually know much about Riven. Of course, everybody had heard of him - other than being close with Sky, he had gotten quite a bad reputation in Alfea, and his questionable habits with drugs didn't exactly help on the matter. These "stormy and unbalanced"-kind of energy auras were often too much for an empath like her, and that fact alone put him among the people she had usually been avoiding.

Still walking forward, she answered his sharp glance nonchalantly – a neutral, silent hello, that didn't expect any kind of discussion. However, hearing quiet, out of the blue chuckle made her stop reflexively, full of doubt. They hadn't changed more than a few words with each other before and she had had no reason to believe it would change now. He stopped his training too and looked at her, estimating.

"You like holding that big stick?"

His slightly amused, undermining and suggesting tone after a long and exhausting day made Musa react quickly; with secure grasp, she rotated the stick swiftly and bent into an attack-position, holding the stick very close to his face – staying still, half waiting for some kind of anger or offended surrendering-movement. However, her intuition was wrong again: instead, the youngster touched the head of the stick lightly and lowered It, raising his eyebrows and smirking almost flirtatiously. "I'll take that as a yes."

Young fairy repressed her will to roll her eyes: sadly, Riven was also well-known for his narrow-minded, obnoxious and somewhat prejudiced comments and opinions. This year Terra and Dane had seemed to have gotten the worst blows of them. Even though Terra hadn't admitted it to anyone, Musa had lived with her long enough to know that some of the remarks had really gotten under her skin. And that was saying a lot, when it came to a generally happy person like her. Some people just couldn't take a hint of crossing the line, and the boy standing in front of her was definitely one of them.

To show him that she really wasn't in a mood for such behavior today, she partly leaned on her stick and titled her head. "I think I just threw up."

In spite of the loathing tone in her answer, Riven couldn't help feeling a tad impressed: this tiny fairy seemed to have more fierceness and spunk in her than the most of the well-trained Specialists. After the lackey-like, avoiding or somewhat fearful reactions he had faced lately, this strictness from someone else than his best friend or mentor – especially a girl - certainly was something new. There was no denying that Beatrix had offered him quite a portion of that as well in her own, seductive and slightly twisted way, but this lass had some exceptional gentleness, vision and different kind of honesty in her that Beatrix just... had not.

Still a hint of smile on his face, he came a little closer to her, unwilling to change the subject. "I saw you on the support rounds with Miss Dowling at training." His tone was trying to pursue neutrality, but even the fool could've seen that he wanted to prove his point.

Musa tried to separate her own feelings from all the other auras around her to process his new, startling attentiveness. Was she honored or bothered – and more importantly, which one was the right way to react? At the moment, even the Expert of Emotions herself couldn't tell. What was the catch here? It would've made more sense for him to keep an eye on assertive and strong people like Stella or Aisha. She stayed quiet, letting a little patient smile crack her poker face, wondering where he was going with this.

Being wise enough not to test her patience any longer, Riven decided to answer the unspoken question himself. Without fully meeting her eye, he let his gaze linger at her feet. "I wouldn't have expected a mind fairy to have such good moves."

Without an invitation or permission, Mrs. Dowling's task-orientated but friendly voice echoed in her ears again.

"Not all fairy magic is suited to combat roles. Support is equally, if not more, important. Your magic can help us assess the fragile states of minds and uncover hidden enemies."

It was a common knowledge that the Headmistress was encouraging to the core, cared for her students, and meant well. Still, Musa's speculative mind constantly found hidden subtexts in her words, which started with "too theoretic" and ended up at something like: "Insufficient" or "powerless when things actually go wrong."

"I used to be a dancer." The words escaped her lips, before she managed to stop them. Whether it was because of Mrs. Dowling, her own defense mechanisms against Riven's prejudices, his infuriating abilities to give compliments and offend at the same time, or just pure tiredness, she was surprised by her own transparency. She had told about this only to her very few close people in her life. Not even her roommates knew. And now she had blabbered it in front of a basically complete stranger! But on the other hand, it was really refreshing to talk to someone, who didn't pry or force their curiosity on her out of duty or responsibility. Unable to help herself, she admitted: "I kinda miss being physical."

When she had been younger, her mother had taught her to dance and they had made it something they shared. It had been wonderful to dive deep into music and focus on the movements and the different worlds, in which melodies had transferred her into. But when her mother had passed away, she hadn't been able to bring herself in that flow anymore. No matter how persistently she had tried, it hadn't felt the same. Now it only reminded her of everything she had lost.

Abruptly, she returned back to reality and noticed that Riven's gaze had found its way in her eyes again and his posture had returned to its natural defensiveness.

"Yeah, well, too bad", he spat out in a slightly husky voice. "You're a fairy. They don't care what you wanna be in this place, only what they want you to be."

Quite a nice reward for being honest! It would've been so easy and rightful for Musa to get mad at him. But her mother had always used to say that no one's story and melody should be shut out, and she had chosen to live through that code. Even with the douchebag like Riven.

Now that she looked closer, with a little help of her own, she was able to see the dark circles under his eyes – eyes that were actually really observant and sincere, like they were trying to convey her an important message. Under the arrogance and "know it all"-attitude, there was buried bitterness and sadness. This wasn't just a cocky boy fighting for his territory. It was a sincere warning, born by his own, long-term experiences.

When one really stopped to think about it, this guy had gone through quite a rough year. The first more hidden emotion Musa sensed – perhaps because it had been also her friend for the last couple of days – was the fear of not being enough. Mr. Silva had always been righteous and fair leader and mentor who wanted to treat everyone equally, but still there was a little...guess it could be called conflict of interest. Even though Sky’s bloodline had guaranteed him the place in this school, he had been motivated and trained himself to the top and hadn't expected any special treatment. But after his father, Andreas of Eraklyon, had passed away in a battle, Silva, as Andreas' best friend, had taken him under his wing and now saw him basically as his own son. Due to this fact and his carefree and rebellious stoner-history, Riven must have felt overshadowed and the need to prove everyone that he belonged here.

Obviously, there was also worry and complicated feelings about Beatrix on his mind. Despite her... interesting personality – kindly expressed – and her shady and threatening motives that were becoming clearer by the moment, they had been close. She had been one of the few people who didn't judge him in one way or another. And now she was imprisoned and not many people knew what the faculty was planning to do to her. He probably also wondered how big role he had played in causing the danger – partly by being nasty to Dane – that was now hanging above everyone. He clearly tried to act like it didn't have an effect on him, but Musa and Aisha had witnessed his lousily finished training this morning. All of this would've a lot to bear to anyone, and Musa couldn't help feeling a little sorry for him.

"You really hate being here, don't you?"

She hadn't even acknowledged she had used her powers on full force until she saw the look on Riven's face: it was disoriented, almost blank, and there was a hint of surprise in his eyes. Musa was fully aware of what her powers awoke in others: being mentally and emotionally exposed without their own control could be terrifying.

Suddenly, Riven snapped out of his slumber, obviously startled, and pointed his finger at her accusingly. "Stay the fuck out of my head!" His voice was loaded with as much poison as possible, but a tiny, unintended smile screwed his cover up.

Snorting, he shook his head a little and turned around, away from the control of her bright eyes. "Mind fairies..." Still somewhat confused, he started to walk away, mumbling something like: "Walking red flags..." Nosey even at their best, thinking of being know-it-alls because of their abilities... He had been a careless idiot for letting his guard down. There was no doubt that the girl would go straight to Dowling, perhaps Silva, too, to report that the school's unstable rebel should be watched under this big threat...

Annoyed, he lifted his gaze off the ground just in time to see Sam, Musa's boyfriend, approaching them. Personally, he had nothing against the lad: if anything, despite being a loner, Terra's brother always seemed to be nice to everyone. Truth to be told, there was nothing to complain about his fighting skills, either. Perhaps those traits ran in the family. Passing him by, he tapped Sam's shoulder heavily. "Good luck with that one, mate!"

Without his own will, the fairy had awoken something in him, something he both feared, wanted to forget and also secretly missed...things from last year, that almost seemed like another life... Needing his own space, he sped up his steps and headed inside, the image of deep purple eyes oddly and fascinatingly haunting him.

Musa couldn't help smirking to the different auras of these two boys: one reminded of the serene, sunny summer day, while the other one was pretty more like an autumn storm.

For a moment, Sam looked after Riven and then turned his confused gaze to his girlfriend. "What was that about?"

Musa came closer to him, smiling and enjoying his calming and innocent presence. "Nothing." Technically, she wasn't lying. She had no room in her heart to be offended; over the years, she had become quite familiar with those kinds of hostile reactions to her powers. Whatever that had been, she didn't have energy to analyze it now. Besides, she had more pressing, romantic and distracting matters on her mind right now. "Wanna head back to the suite?"

#fate: the winx saga #musa x riven #sam harvey #rivusa

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