#(well technically english is my third language)
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em-ontv · 2 months ago
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Get a room.
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Pairing: Dean Winchester x lover!fem!reader
Summary: After a particularly bad hunt, you were patching Dean up in the motel room, but he said he needed to be healed up the right way.
Content: fluff(?), kisses, Sam kind of being the third-wheel, no use of y/n, mentions of injury
English isn’t my first language, mistakes should be present, sorry!
Word count: 698
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You and Dean had just stumbled back to the bunker after a long, exhausting hunt. It was one of those hunts where everything that could go wrong, did. Dean had taken a hit from some nasty vamp, even after you told him to be careful, but Dean? Nah, that word wasn't in his vocabulary. And while he made no big deal of the gash, you knew it was serious enough to need a little patching up.
He was sitting on the edge of the bed, shirt off, grimacing slightly as you cleaned up the deep cut on his shoulder.
"Ow—! Careful," Dean grimaced, shooting you a mocking glare. "You trying to finish me off, sweetheart?"
"Quit being a baby," you shook your head. "You're lucky this didn't go deeper."
“I’m always lucky,” Dean responded, a smirk spreading across his face despite his slight wince when you dabbed the cloth on his wound again.
"Uh-huh. I should just leave you to bleed out next time, it would save me a whole lot of trouble." you muttered, beginning to bandage him up, nodding in approval of your work once you secured it.
Dean shifted, sighed, then flashed you a lopsided grin. "I think you missed a step, sweetheart."
"What step?" you raised an eyebrow, confused.
“For me to fully heal… there’s only one thing that’ll work.”
“What?" you almost rolled your eyes. "Lemme guess, whiskey and pie?”
He grinned wider. “Nope. Kisses. Specifically, from you. On my face. All over. Only way this wound’s gonna close up right.”
You snorted. “Right. Because that's definitely how medical science works.”
Dean winced dramatically. “You don’t believe me? It’s a foolproof healing method. I swear it.”
"C'mon, don't leave me hanging here—this is life or death." He added for good measure, tapping a finger to his cheek.
Despite yourself, you laughed. “You are so full of it, Winchester.”
“One kiss. Or like… fifty. But who's counting?” He shrugged.
You sighed, fully aware you were playing into his game but too tired to fight it. You leaned down and pressed a light kiss to his cheek, where his finger tapped relentlessly until you gave in.
“There you go,” Dean said, clearly pleased. “But you missed a spot—” He pointed to another area, so you kissed it too. “And there—” Another kiss. “And the forehead—” You kissed his forehead. “And—”
“Okay, Dean, that’s enough."
"Not enough. I can still feel the pain." He let out an over-the-top groan.
You sighed in exasperation, considering to either just punch him across the face or keep giving into him—you chose the latter.
Just as you were placing more kisses onto his face—the grin on his lips made him look like a love-drunk idiot—the door swung open.
Sam walked in with some takeout bags, he froze in the doorway, eyes widening as he took in the scene: you, practically sitting on Dean’s lap, showering his face with kisses, while Dean looked way too proud of himself.
“What did I just walk into?” Sam groaned, immediately making a beeline to the table to avoid getting another glance at the two of you.
"Hey, it's a part of the healing process, Sammy." Dean smirked, looking over to his brother.
Sam blinked, then made a face like he just swallowed something sour. “Gross. Seriously, guys, get a room.”
“We’re technically in a room, you know.” you said, getting off of Dean who seemed too reluctant to let you go.
"A room that you walked into." Dean added, a hint of sarcasm in his voice.
Sam set the food down, still shaking his head in disbelief. "Yeah, well, next time, maybe give me a warning first so I know not to come in while you guys are having a whole smooch-fest."
"You're just jealous."
"You two are impossible."
"Buzzkill."
Sam just groaned in annoyance again, starting to unpack the food.
You couldn't help but let out a soft laugh, feeling a bit guilty—though not that guilty. You glanced at Dean, who tugged on your hand with a happy expression.
"Next time, we're giving you painkillers." you said, lifting your hand up and running your finger through his hair.
"Not a chance." Dean smiled.
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mikeylo · 4 months ago
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A Reason to Stay, Bound to You
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Length: 13.2K+words
Genre: Fluff, Sullyoon x M!Manager (age gap, let just say appropriate range), in-depth detail of an idol manager work, 2nd POV style.
Summary: You Y/N being Nmixx manager got into feeling complication with Sullyoon, one of the Nmixx's members (Same goes for Sullyoon with her manager). Multiple instances happened between them in which only strengthen their bond deeper than a mere staff or worker. A controversies strike the group costing your job as their manager. Will their feelings stay intact?
Disclaimer:
First time posting a story on here or ever, English is my second language, technically it is third but the second one in terms of which came first.
Props to my friends for beta read my fic to lessen the mistake in there.
Credit to her for giving the fic such a lovely name. It's so good it freaking make sense
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Nmixx manager is a diligent worker, always provide what Nmixx needs. That is you, Y/N we are talking about. All Nmixx known for extrovert aura, but Sullyoon is otherwise, well she did have to blend in with the energy of her group in which she already gotten used to it by now, but her old self still lingers around. With all due respect, other girl is easier to interact with, but Sullyoon is a more on the difficult side. You Y/N, their manager also once a shy timid little boy understood her demeanour clearly, it makes her heart flutter you are able understands her without much communication. The moment when two path crosses its way to conjoined, it all started back in the dressing room where the love spark first ignited in midst of a cold season. Being a caring manager you are, you decided to prepare some set of blankets for the girls. So, you entered the room with the folded blanket.
“Anyone needs a blanket” you voice out to the members. The room was hustling with staff going in and out ensuring the showcase smoothly progressing displaying every group distinct music colour, Nmixx the group you are taking care of was not an exception. You hope for the best award every given to them
“Aniyo (no)” member replied in unison except the one at the far back of the room, Sullyoon. At the corner of your eye, you saw Sullyoon turning around with puppy eyes and slightly protruding her lips looking for you. She assumed you will head out again since the member doesn't need the heated blankets, so she was a little bit let down as she was kind of cold by this frigid atmosphere. “Here you go” astoundment was shown in her eyes staring in appreciation towards you. You didn’t notice her heartful stare as you carry on facing the crowd in the room. “You girls need anything else?”
“You need anything?” Your remarks broke her out of her trance. She shakes her head a bit, eyes fluttering waking up her sense back, “No….… opp- manager-nim” she softly spoke. Red hue on her cheeks can be seen but you sensed it as a fleeting thought because you got a lot to take care of, part-time, siblings college fees and any other breadwinner was tasked for.
“Manager Oppaaa, get me pumpkin spice Americano juseyo and…...” in baby voice, Haewon make a call from the other side of the room. Being their manager for almost two years, you are still amazed by how explosive their energy is, the iconic trio, Kyujin Jiwoo Haewon are unstoppable force, adding Lily and Bae is just a cherry on top.
“Make it three oppa” Kyujin interrupts Haewon while holding her left hands up with the number three. You can sense Haewon glaring her eyes out at Kyujin as you take note of the order on your phone. The so-called twin maknae, Kyujin and Jiwoo always teaming up on their unnie. They even sit next to each other in the room.
You inquire their usual order from the rest of the girls, Lily and Bae. You tilt your head a bit since Sullyoon decline her daily caffeine order. You found it weird especially today with her, as if she's not being her usual self. You clearly notice all the member comfortably call you “Oppa or Manager oppa” beside Sullyoon. Well, it's a given as you regularly call her by her stage name. When you were first introduced to the members, they present themself by their stage name which is their real name but only until later you found out Yoona is her real name. By now it's a habit calling Sullyoon her stage name and looks like it doesn't bother her at all. Little did you know, she does get bother by it, seeing you calling every member by their real name make her heart feel unease.
“The order will be here, see you guys in a bit, got some errands to do, ask manager unnie if you guys need anything, FIGHTING!” with fist clench showing unwavering support to them.
Being the head manager usually handling company, production team and event organizer applications for the group, making sure they are up to date. Most of the time you get it done quickly a week before. Having no pending task, in the meantime you watch the members do their idol work from behind the scenes, assisting manager unnie taking care of the girl’s wellbeing 24/7.
Afternoon and evening schedule are filled with photo shoot, interviews and live broadcast on a music shows. Since it takes place at the Seoul broadcasting station, ending a few schedules at the station with an interview with the media outlet at the front entrance with fans cheering in the background.
Unfortunately, your stomach has been feeling uneasy for the past couple of hours as there's some technical issue earlier at Magazine shooting session making the intended schedule falling behind. You are tapping your feet away waiting behind rows of camera witnessing the girls do their interviews, finishing two to three interviewer question, bidding goodbyes to the fans and walk off to their van. To add salt to injury, the interview also taking a few minutes more than what has been planned, so you must guide the member quickly. That's what your hope for, but fate got better plans for you.
As you lead the group and assist the van’s door. The rest of the girls went on the van, but you saw the back of the Bae’s head covering the incident you never expected to happen. A commotion happens to Sullyoon with a media reporter. The reporter looks like on the last thread of his job and would do anything to keep it, even if he must break the standard moral of conduct. The media reporter was crossing the belt barrier holding onto Sullyoon wrist and bombarded her with questions.
“Mr……please…. stop it” She murmured out her discomfort and wince a bit of pain due to the tight hold. To not cause further the havoc. She grabs her left fist with her right hand to make an attempt to flee the situation. Bae hesitantly come closer to Sullyoon trying to snatch her away from the man. “Mr..…we got other schedule to attend… maybe on the next fan meeting” a chance was taken by Bae but doesn't budge the man’s hold on Sullyoon’s wrist.
“You guys are the reason Jini was kicked out of the group, she never left voluntarily!” The reporter shouted attracting more witnesses to the scene. The girls were startled by the thunderous claim by the man. Jinni issue was settled years ago, even Jinni herself say it herself.
You watched as everyone attention was pointed to them, this matter will only worsen as time goes on, you take big step towards them. Yanking the reporter’s hand off Sullyoon. It takes every ounce of your energy to not put a dent on the reporter’s face. With a lot going in your head from delayed schedule, controversial claim to the sight of frightened Sullyoon really boils your anger.
“Kindly put your hands off the idol Mr, they have fixed schedule needed to follow.” You spoke with teeth clench while trying your best to carve a smile on your face, some even may see your veins pulsing on your temple.
“Yahhh, hands off you basta-” The man was ready to throw hands but reconsider his choice after seeing you seething with anger through a fake smile as it wasn't worth to have broken nose and jaw over his job. He broke off your hold and flee the area. You didn't notice your grip earlier left him to massage his wrist.
“Are you guys, okay?” You gently hold on both of their shoulder checking for any injuries. You quickly ushered them to get into their van. After closing the door, you jog your way to the driver seat and drove off.
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From time to time, you glance at the rear-view mirror to check on the girls, especially Sullyoon. Being assaulted must be putting a lot of weight on her mental health. You cursed yourself for not doing your job properly, probably you should have stayed close when guiding them, or maybe you should have been more attentive about the group schedule last week, then this wouldn't had happened. Today’s occurrence overwhelmed your mind to the brim.
“Oppa, we have arrived” Haewon tapped your shoulder from the backseat. Haewon’s call break you out of your trance. You look over your shoulder and multiple sets of eyes are directed to you. The corner of your eyes detecting your surroundings, makes you realise that you have driven them to their next schedule location instinctively. They have a schedule at Ajou University for rehearsal for upcoming University Festival consert and you brought them here with your mind going autopilot mode. “Your sick piece of shi-” once again you mouth curse word to your carelessness of not being conscious throughout the drive, it could have led to nightmarish accident. “You guys go ahead; I will catch up” signaling them with the back of your hand to go ahead. They all went out leaving you alone in the van. It was one hell of a week you think to yourself. Taking side quest while having a job to take care others was not the most ideal life choice, but the extra cash was needed.
Being a people pleaser really has took a toll on you, having most trusted friends swindle your money with debt still calling your name like student loan, monthly bills. And on top that regular hospital fees for your ailing little sister, Jiu. You wouldn’t want to complain about family burden but it’s still your responsibility. Well, you always hoped being that very unlucky main character to suddenly be granted with the most beautiful reward like those slices of life comic you used to read. You chuckle at your own ridiculousness.
With you having a laugh at your life stories. Sullyoon look back at the van before entering the tent area for the rehearsal. She can't really see you through the window as it was black tinted. But deep within her heart, she hoped that everything would go your way.
For the past years working together, she somewhat able to relates herself with you as both of you are very good at hiding your pain. Back when you have a fever, you pretended to drink an energy drink, but it was actually coughing syrup. You left her flabbergasted taking the sight of others believing your act.
On the side note, it leaves her a hint of excitement and connection knowing both of you have something in common, but it does not last long as hiding one’s pain also hurts her. Like the intense bruise on her wrist after the incident with the reporter that you missed.
“Yoona-yah, hurry up! We have to go” Jiwoo brings back Sullyoon back to earth seeing her standing far from the pack. “Wait up, I’m coming” Sullyoon take one last glance towards the van but this time from afar both of your gazes met as you step out of the van. Both of you stares into one another. Even though her sensory experience is being occupied by the intense swelling of her bruise, Sullyoon still able to shows you her toothy smile and crescent shape eye. Her smile really captivates you that you almost didn’t notice she’s waving at you lightly with her right hand. You sheepishly wave back with an equal smile but grasp something is off with her overall condition.
A sigh of relief as you see her back to her usually demeanour as that what you assumed, she’s a strong girl given a heavy responsibility to hold such beauty in this thorny world. As she turns back to catch up to her member, you furrowed your brows in confusion catching her conspicuously awkward movement. Seeing her stop mid-way to check on something. Witnessing her grasping onto her left wrist with her other hand before disappearing into the cluster of tents. You may haven’t had a meal for today, but your gut’s instinct was stronger than usual after what you had just witnessed.
You grab available med kit and rush to their tent. Despite not being fond of your overthinking traits, but it mads you think she’s been affected by the earlier incident in some way. You ran through manifold rows of tent from various group and almost missing their designated tent. Once you parted the curtain, at your dismay the members weren’t there. Checking the sign pasted outside maybe you could've gone to the wrong tent. “They already went on stage” You heard a voice beside you, seeing Manager Unnie sitting on a plastic, focused on her phone,
Without much thought, you make a beeline straight to the main stage while slither your way avoiding bystander staff. Then you found yourself by the foot of the stair leading up to the stage, since it was an outdoor concert so there are a lot of deployable stage light rigged on some beam and trusses. From there you saw the members getting ready for rehearsal, doing some stretching and vocal warm-up. Adding humorous element to the scene, Haewon poking Lily by the waist while she trying to do vocal warm-ups.
You scanned through the set while walking up the stage’s side stair and your eyes land on the person you're looking for, Sullyoon. She's doing her stretches while she's entering her pensive mode staring into the horizon. One of her few habits you happen to see quite often throughout the years, she always shies her face away when you caught her pondering her mind for too long. But for today, I don’t think it’s the case.
Since she stands close to the steps, the clanking sound of metal stairs from your footing makes her turn her head around and stumble upon seeing you with a med kit by your side. She was a bit startled by your unexpected presence and the sight of the med kit only making her anxious about what's going to happen next. From your perspective, her demeanour changes from her usual ethereal looking beauty to a timid little girl after she’s been caught red handed.
You motion her to come here before you are rummaging through the med kit searching for an ointment and a bandage and she hesitantly obliged. As she stands in front of you fidgetingly, you signal her to give her left hand. She hesitantly places her hand on top of your right palm. As you gently twist her wrist to see the damage, horror came down to you as the bruise patch was quite sizeable with deep colour. Being a manager, acquiring basic dermatology is essential, your concerned only tripled knowing it’s not what you consider a normal bruise but a severe one. After having a knowledge of her injury, you ruffle your hair in frustration, now you wished you had let your intrusive thought of busted the reporter’s nose to extinguish your wrath.
With wide eye you look up from the bruise to her eyes to make eye contact. As if telling her telepathically how serious the injury is, and she is hiding it, but she avoids the mutual glance and averted her eyesight to the ground waiting anxiously for scolding from you. But you are more obliged to attend her injury as it’s a serious one.
“ Does it hurt?” you whisper softly while maintaining your gaze on her. With both of your hand on her left wrist, positioned both thumbs on the bruise mark, just a mere graze of your thumb on her skin causing her to wince in pain. You felt sympathy for her. It really reminds you when you had to endure endless throbbing sensation for weeks on your right thigh from slipping down small steps and not having a luxury of proper treatment. Since she's under meticulous care of their manager, she doesn't need to experience it.
“This is a lot more serious than I thought, you should head back to the tent for now” you comment while spreading some bruise-healing cream on her injury. Since haven't got any cold agent around, you opt to go for immediate treatment for her and wrapping bandage loosely around her wrist.
“Bae-yahh! Come here” you called Bae to come over and continued to inform that she will accompany her back to tent. Subsequently, the rest of the member also joined in as they heard you called Bae. As expected, everyone went bonkers upon hearing the news about Sullyoon getting hurt by the incident, Jiwoo being the sensitive one might make one confuse who’s the victim as she’s about to shed some tears. Lily on the other hand being the sweetest she is, giving Sullyoon a patting at the back and lean her head onto Lily’s shoulder. Upon seeing the eldest giving affection towards to younger one, the rest of the member also joined the love surrounding Sullyoon, in contrast to you awkwardly trying to hold onto Sullyoon’s wrist as you fully aware of how excruciating having a bruise and severe one at that.
Being an Idol in a country that's known for it makes up the competitive nature so any schedule must move on. Meanwhile, you asked Bae escort Sullyoon back to their tent carefully. You advised Bae to hold Sullyoon arm closely leveled to heart level to scale down swelling rate. Conversely, you picked up their pre-ordered meals for tonight from a nearby diner run by a lovely ahjumma (Aunty). Unintentionally, it was the restaurant you used to visit frequently when around the area. And you remind yourself to also buy Sullyoon a sling and a cooling agent pack.
“That's quite a big order you got there, what's the occasion?” You were a bit jolted overhearing a voice close to you as you were patting your attire for your wallet at the counter to pay. You saw a familiar figure with some partially white hair with back slightly hunch due to old age, the restaurant owner. “It's for my sisters” you sheepishly smile back at her, I guess you could consider the members as your little sister knowing how close you guys’ bond together. You are dumbfounded knowing your mind can clearly vision where exactly you left your wallet but to only forget you left it back at the tent.
“Don't worry, the meals are on the house” the old women uttered makes you feel guilty, exchanging your forgetfulness for a free meal, such an unfair trade. “You boys must work relentlessly these days, let me tell you…. don’t overdo it like my deceased son” those final three words meant a thousand sweat and tears both from the son and his mother. You grow up without much preference of your parents other than countless cut and bruises as a remembrance of them and final memory of news about their car accident.
The only driving force that’s keeping you moving is those who are under your care. Sometimes you can be selfless to keep other in check and not worry about yourself but hearing Ahjumma’s words make you rethink on how you would approach the future. You really should take care of yourself better, ending your life accidentally by your own hands is not something you want to imagine of your loved one crying over your passing.
Your heart ached just from picturing them tears up. Your only little sister, your best friends, naughty ahjussi that helps you out of the rut, Nmixx member, Jiwoo, Kyujin, Haewon, Lily, Bae………. Yoona.
*Lub-dub Lub dub, “How does pronouncing a name can make my heart beating so fast?” you voice out internally and you opened your eyes recalling yourself you are still in the restaurant. Both pair of eyes from the cashier and Ahjumma gave you a confused look. To not make your face even redder, you bid them farewell and pick up the meals. As soon as you walked out, you facepalm yourself replaying the moment that’s just happened.
Driving back to Ajou University was never a difficult task but the lingering feeling both coming from the mind and stomach make it so. You chose to think the discomfort coming from your stomach is because of you haven’t had any proper meals aside from snack bar so you felt relief that it doesn’t have anything to do from those earlier thoughts back at the diner. But your minds are playing tricks on you, “Why am I keep thinking of her?” You shake your head every once in a while, but it doesn’t go. It only replaying memories of her but in different scenario. “Manager-nim where is my blanket?”, “Manager-nim, can you help me open this up? “, “Manager Oppa, how does Yoona look?” Haewon asking you about Sullyoon’s dress.
You are about to go crazy with this ridiculous thought repeating every instance of her with you. Fortunately, your mind has more tricks up its sleeves. Constructing a scene beyond your experience. The mind started its magic, and you can see Sullyoon is skip walking towards you with both her hands placed behind her. You think of moving out of the way, but you feel your body is stuck in place. Neither your legs nor your hands can be move. As she about to close the distance, you closed your eyes preparing for a head on collision. But then, you felt both of your hands were held by a set of soft and delicate finger. You opened your eyes to assess the situation and you were displayed by the closeness of her profile. You were charmed instantly, never ever have you gotten this up-close inspecting her allurement. You were aware of her beauty, but this only makes you to not avert your eyes away from her. As you had fully submit to your mind’s desire thinking this is the climax, but your mind knows what you truly wished for. Sullyoon tenderly squeezed your hands and say your utmost desire “Call me Yoona…………. Y/N Oppa”.
You screamed at the top of your lungs not as a figure of speech but literally, so loud that pedestrians walking by look at your van. Thankfully, with black tinted window and you stopped at the traffic light unconsciously, you once again saved face from embarrassment. To make it worst, your throat went sore and dry, it really starting to sting when you try to make a sound. You stopped by a convenience store to buy some cold packs and a sling as you nearly forgetting the most important matter.
Only couple of turns left, you arrived again at the parking lot of Ajou outdoor theatre. Not forgetting their meals in hand and post purchase item. A huff of exhaustion escapes you as you walked down the familiar path toward Nmixx’s tent. With your mind more focused than before to end the day on a good note, you settled on the improvised schedule in your head as they will have dinner here and end the day off with a radio show.
As you parted the tent’s fabric to enter, you saw the girls already finished their rehearsal and waited. “Meals are here” as you placed it down on the nearby table. “What's it, oppa?” Kyujin being the first scavenging through the plastic.
“It's Bibimbap (White rice topped with diverse toppings)” you answered while looking around where did you place your wallet. You swear you put it on top of the table. Searching around the tent, ducking under the seat, maybe it slips out of the tent, just a mere thought filled your mind with dread. With the enjoyment atmosphere from the members ensued in the background over a homemade meal, you noticed two members were absence. You reckon they went to the washroom.
You headed outside to check if your instinct were true. You spotted Bae and Sullyoon headed your way from a potentially washroom. Bae was holding onto something while leisurely maintaining Sullyoon’s wrist at heart level but what's intrigued you was both were looking at it so intently like solving a puzzle. “Where did you guys go?” You questioned them insensitively with arm crossed and raised eyebrow as you eyed the very familiar item in their hands.
“Oh, Oppa is here” Bae was the first to notice your presence and followed by Sullyoon with a slight stun perceiving your existence. Bae are oblivious on how searing Sullyoon’s wound is while holding onto your lost wallet, you can only let out unenthused snicker. “Oppa, who’s this?” Bae extended her arm out showing the inside of your wallet while being clueless of her intrusion of privacy, casually asking you who is the younger girl in the picture. “Little sister” responding with smirk, your peripherical vision detect a drastic change of Sullyoon expression from a stern look to a beaming smile. Unbeknownst to you, in the depths of her heart was a hopeless and resentful devotion upon seeing the picture in your wallet illustrating a girl figure where you wrapped your arms around her shoulder. Never once in her life being this thrilled upon hearing some news, like Christmas comes early, there’s still possibility of her uttermost wish to be granted.
“Foods is here too” Bae lightly throws the wallet up in the air leaving Sullyoon catching and grasping onto the contraband. Bae’s action spooked you a bit, it was not about seizing the wallet but the moment she lets go of her hold onto Sullyoon’s wrist got your instinct kicked in quickly holding on to her wrist. You stared menacingly in the direction of where Bae’s headed. Observing Sullyoon getting left out by Bae only adding more evident to her selfless personality. You bet Sullyoon tell Bae off to not worry about her to much as you just ordered Bae to keep watched on Sullyoon.
“Manager-nim……. your hand” Sullyoon shyly tug your sleeve to regain your attention, as you regain focused, oblivious that you unintentionally holding her hand after you noticed her response. You swiftly retrieved your wallet from her hand as you commanded her to hold her wrist with her other hand to lessen her injury. Although, this is not the first time she held your hand, it always sends butterfly in her guts. The major size difference between hers and yours coloured her cheeks red acknowledging that fact that it could easily wrap your hands arounds hers easily. The rough and sturdy exterior of your hand cradling her tender and delicate palm only contributed to her sensory overload.
With the minor mishap out of the way, you swung your sling bag around to the front to search for the sling you just bought earlier. “Here, put this on” you hand her the sling, and she hesitates, unsure about wearing it. “Manager-nim……. I don’t think I need this, it’s only a bruise” she mildly protests, unable to keep eye contact with you. You take the sling off her palm and do it your own way. You politely request her to lift her left arm to put the sling on, it was done in an instant. But the one on the receiving end was flushed to oblivion, having your arm nearly wrapping her around, your warm breath tingling her ear as you try to connect the slings end. Your hand slightly brushes her hair sending shiver down her spine. A hint of your perfume mixed with your natural scent initiate a malware in her mind.
You take a step back, appreciating your work. “Look, doesn’t take long at all to wear” feeling a bit proud of yourself, not aware what kind of blushing mess you made Sullyoon as she stared down to the ground hiding her face with her hair flow with the gravity. Worried slowly overcomes you upon seeing her current form, is she, sick? Does she really do not want to wear the sling? You leaned in to properly judge the situation. “Are you sick? your face redder than usually” you mutter to yourself, but you are not the only who heard it considering both of your face are inches away. Like any typical method to determine whether one has a fever, using the back of your hand will do the trick. You gently sweep her fringe aside and place the back of your hand against her forehead. A burning sensation started to take its place into your hand.
“Manager-nim stop it!!!!” Sullyoon let out a shriek of embarrassment with fist clench by her side. You raised your hand in defends from any potential blow. You peek between your fingers taking in a sight of fully flushed Sullyoon with an annoyed expression towards you. “Ehem ahhh G-Go eat up inside, there’s bibimbap ready” you stutter and nod tensely towards the tent inside, avoiding eye contact with her after what just happened. Sullyoon stomped off into the tent leaving you scratching your head in confusion.
Brushing the thought aside, you make your way into the tent. Everyone already munching on their respective bowl of bibimbap. “Oppa, ant chu eaching?” Jiwoo mumbled; her mouth filled with rice. “I will, just have to update the company our current status” you replied to Jiwoo detecting the scene Lily slapping her hand for talking with mouthful out of the corner of your eye as you whipped out your phone. Their sibling dynamic proving they are more than just worker but more like a family. You typed away on your phone all the details to inform about Sullyoon’s injury. “Sullyoon-ah, I need to take picture of your injury for proof” calling out her name without honorific giving her goosebumps essentially pronouncing her full name, Seol Yoona. Luckily, you proceed getting the proof without causing another scene.
“How long does she have to wear it?” Haewon posed a question piqued everyone attention. As soon you submit the report, you turned and faced Haewon before answering. “At most 3 weeks if you casually only applying balm on it, but at short as 1 week if it’s under attentive care like wearing a sling, healthy diet, gentle exercise and avoid re-injury will suffice. “It’s going to be a hassle wearing that around, how the media will react if she wears that in public?” everyone focuses on the one commenting, Manager unnie. Hands on your chin, you reflect on your assistant point of view. “Hmmmmmm” you hummed in contemplation as you walk around the space with everyone anticipating your answers.
 You stopped your track standing in front of Sullyoon. “Sullyoon-shi, does your hand feel pain when you move your arms around” almost in interrogating tone you question her. “A bit but I feel it is more convenience to- Ahhhhh” sharp pain shot through her joint as Kyujin were sitting beside her raising her knee to scratch her ankles inadvertently hitting Sullyoon’s arm. “Oh My God Sullyoon! Unnie, Are you okay! I’m Sorry!” she freaks out getting everyone on their feet. Promptly grabbing the cold pack, you went and place it onto her affected area and proceed to check-up on her. Your observation conclude that her breathing gets heavier, seeming that her body is trying to cope the sudden twist on her swollen wrist. Beads of sweat started forming on her face
Upon seeing Sullyoon condition worsened, you instantly act voicing out your game plan. “I will drop you guys off at the radio station then I will take Sullyoon to the nearby clinic” everyone nods in agreement. The reason for your urgency was because Seoul traffic gets packed during the dusk hour. By looking at Sullyoon’s current state, it’s only matter of time she will lose consciousness from enduring overbearing pain. “I will get the van closer; you guys steadily assist Sullyoon to the van” you tried to sound as calm as possible despite the critical tension to prevent any mishap occur along the way. You are not in this alone, anyone mistake will hold accountable.
You hasten your movement towards the van and with quick manoeuvre you parked it close enough for them catch up. You grimace at a sight of Sullyoon limping with her arm draping over Bae’s shoulder. With everyone buckled up, you put pedal to the metal heading towards the designated location. “Manager-unnie, can you book a VIP health check-ups at a nearby hospital?” With manager unnie doing her part, conversely you pick up steady pace on the road while not forgetting others safety. Suddenly, the situation in front of you caught your breath viewing a massive traffic jam. “Will we make it in time Oppa?” you imagine Haewon sticking her head out behind the sits. You looked closely through the rear mirror, a sigh of relief upon seeing Sullyoon’s breathing pattern has steadied. You saw a glimpse of her eyes slightly opened and nods in assurance at you that she’s doing okay.
“Everything will be under control, believe me” comforting those under you in critical moment what makes you stand out from others. Ironically, you may construct deep attachment easily with this attribute, but you will have a hard time to let go of that person. Going back to the matter at hand, you reroute your path finding alternative for better chance of arriving early as progressing slowly is better than stuck in a never-ending traffic.  Even with the situation toned down, you are still concerned about Sullyoon’s wellbeing and it’s your top priority for now.
Fortunately, with 15 minutes to spare. Everyone disembarks from the van leaving Sullyoon in your custody and splitting our respective path. “See you guys in a bit after I check-up on Sullyoon at the hospital” you bid them farewell through the window and off you went. You take a glance at the rear mirror, you saw Sullyoon soundly asleep like a baby koala latching onto its mother. Seeing her in slumber state only shows how straining the pain is putting onto her mentally and physically.
Upon arriving at Seoul National University Hospital parking space, you looked around you to determine how crowded it is. It’s a given as it’s on national level public service. It wouldn’t be pleasant walking around with an idol by your side. You looked behind your seat, Sullyoon is still sleeping. You felt guilty to wake her up, but you must for the sake of her health. You jumped out from the driver’s seat and slide the door open. The heavy sound of the sliding door woke her up randomly, she looks over her shoulder scratching her eyes.
You proceed to put her cap and mask on to prepare for check-up. You wear your sneaky outfit with a mask and the same black cap on, even though you are only a mere manager, you don’t want to risk of being caught. There’s been multiple occasions of you accidentally inside of Nmixx photos taken by fan, it wouldn’t be surprising if anyone recognize you. The walk to the receptionist was a bit of a hassle as Sullyoon still half-awake from her nap while clutching onto your arm. The reservation registration was done quick with only needing to post your assistant name and trudge to meet up with private medical officer in a consultation room. “Manager-nim, I want to take a nap” you didn’t complain much despite you basically support half of her weight as she essentially leaning onto you with her head rest on your shoulder.
Slowly but surely, you make your way crossing the doorway. “Reservation under Mrs Kim” you state your assistant’s name to the doctor inside for customer identification. You explain her condition to the doctor while she’s still drowsy with her head lean on your shoulder. The doctor instructs you to seat Sullyoon upright in the designated chair. The doctor begins doing his job and start removing Sullyoon’s sling. You were occasionally answering questions thrown out by the doctor as he keeps on his progress. How does she get the bruise? What are the first air treatment that you give her? Did you apply ice pack on it? And you also add that her bruise might be getting worse as there was a small mishap of twisting the joint.
The doctor clarifies more about her bruise severity. The more you understand her condition, the more you treat her with empathy. He highlights the extreme discomfort from the swollen bruise can put heavy stress on the patient’s mind. This justify the reason Sullyoon is drowsy because she’s exhausted put up with the pain. “Manager-nim….”she looks up at you, her lips slightly protruding and her sleepy eyes pleading, as she leans her head against your torso.
“Who is she to you? Your girlfriend?” the doctor asks but shrugged it off. The doctor interrogates you in the meantime he’s spreading arnica gel onto her bruise. You go for simple answer “Idol and manager” as his question got you acting on high alert. You heard light chuckle from the doctor “Don’t worry sir, our customer’s privacy is our priority” as he just finished wrapping up Sullyoon’s arm. You are amused by the doctor sense of humour and were reminded to take medication at the reception.
Luck was in your favoured, you felt grateful things went smoothly as you step into you van with Sullyoon taking the passenger seat beside you. A quick glance at your wristwatch telling you got ample time to even send Sullyoon back dorm before getting the other members back at the radio station. Without wasting a single second, you head straight to their dorm.
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There’s nothing more enjoyable than driving on a road in which the traffic has thinned out. Saving you more time to grab a bite as you are starting to feel the spike poking your abdomen. As you put the van to a halt in front of Nmixx dormitory, you hear Sullyoon’s yawn and stretch wide awake. “Good morning” you jokingly said to her. She understood the assignment and greeted you back with a yawn, in which you find it cute because of how down to earth she’s in spite of how ethereal she can be.
“It’s time to go to bed, I will need to get back to fetch the member” you utter with a giggle seeing her abrupt aegyo refusing your idea to go to sleep. She whines with a subtle pout; you are about to go crazy with her unexpected adorableness. But at her core, she feels the most comfortable around you just right after you earnestly taking care of her.
You disregard all her cute attacks and carry on bringing her belongings. You hoped and wished everything unfolded as intended, well it did but not the way you least expected. With her bags in hand and Sullyoon clinging onto your arm looking up to you in admiration, you aren’t complaining but this really shouldn’t be happening as you stand still waiting for the elevator.
“Sullyoona-yah, can you get the keycard” you are not falling for her doe eyes, but at least she follows your order. You started to think is this what you called Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD)? You don’t remember reading an article stating being clinging was part of the disorder. You take your shoes off, lead the way to their living room. With your eyes squint to resist her charm, you command her prepare for bed and go to sleep but she got better scheme to do. “Manager-nim, want to have ramyeon with me?” she requests cutely.
“Naah, I must go back at get your other members, okay? Plus, I’m not hung-” a growling sound stops disrupt you. Your eyes went wide averting towards your stomach. To make matter worst, you heard a giggle right behind you and you don’t want a whole week having the members replaying the same stories on how loud your stomach growl after being offer have ramyeon. You can’t be too certain Sullyoon be able to keep her mouth shut, she will possess the best sleep of her life reimagine this moment with you.
At last, you stayed for ramyeon with Sullyoon in the living room. “Dig in manager-nim” you side-eyed her as you scanned for potential hidden trick up her sleeve but instead you examined her to be going back to her usual self. Despite her inviting for ramyeon, you did all the cooking right at the coffee table supposedly since she got one hand on hold by a sling. You grab two set of chopstick and bowls, serving her one and one for your hungry belly.
“Jal meokkesseumnida (I will eat well)” both of you said in unison before dig in your respective bowl of ramyeon. You hummed in satisfaction savouring the tasty goodness of ramyeon. It wouldn’t satisfy your hunger fully, but it will enough for now. You both enjoyed your ramyeon in silent, but Sullyoon was the first to break it. “Manager-nim…. why are you always so nice to me?” you are in the middle of your last slurp, but her question made you stop and look at her baffled. You swallowed the last strain of ramyeon and reply to her answer defensively “What do you mean? I treat everyone equally”. Sullyoon elaborate more by adding more details proving her claim. She revealed that her member telling her that they see you treat her a little bit better and to illustrate her points clearer, even she and her other members agree that you can telepathically understand Sullyoon better than anyone else, as if you read her thoroughly. She even lay out scenarios where you read her like a book, the member say that they must tell you exactly what they want then you will bring it to them, Sullyoon on the other hand just by reading her expression and body gesture you as if able to decipher what she needs.
You were left in awestruck by how detailed her accusation is towards you. Your brain couldn’t be able to construct a legitimate excuse to defend yourself as everything that she said was accurate to you. With the amount of evidence essentially exposing you, you might as well be transparent to her and explain your whole side of the stories.
“Look Sullyoon, with all the evidence you lay out to me, you could say I’m biased, I’m not trying to refute that claim because from your guy’s point of view it looks like I’m favouring you”. You accentuate your word carefully as to avoid misunderstanding. You continue your clarification by expressing that Sullyoon looks the most vulnerable out of all the members. You even suggest that she’s unable to open-up to you for the first 3 months of you being their manager. Of course, it would imply that you must somehow adapt to each member on how they supposed to be treated. You realized that you are going off track a little bit too much about defending yourself as you started to see Sullyoon eyes starting to get watery.
Before anything going too out of hand, you grab and grasp her right hand tenderly with both of your hand and reassure her about your stance that she’s not a burden nor a cause of unfair treatment towards her members. “Actually Yoona-yah. Whenever I see you, you remind me of myself back then, shy and timid. You can be hesitant at times, but I know you are doing your best to keep up with the world. I know how exhausting it is to take every burden on your shoulder alone. That’s why I’ll take extra measure to assist you. Don’t compare yourself with other members, you will have your time to shine. Other member like Haewon, I know she will do well on her own in a long run but you, Yoona-yah you just need a little more time and care to build yourself up so you can be on par with others.”
You are in deep stare into her eye’s orb, the tears stream down her cheek almost went unnoticed. You were startle by her sobbing tears that you hand subconsciously wipe her tears with your thumb. “Don’t cry Yoona-yah, Aigoo you are big baby girl aren’t you” you smirk while wiping the remaining tears of comfort.
Cleaning up the dishes as you go, you are flabbergasted that you had to tuck Sullyoon to bed. “Sleep tight, don’t let the bed bugs bite” she lightly punches you on the shoulder for treating her like a kid. Well in fact that’s how you view her, a kid who was thrown into society to meet its standard. Well, you once being one of those kids and you don’t want youngsters to suffer the insufferable. Before you turn back, you heard her mutter something. “Do you say something?” you questioned but she only shakes her head. You bid her good night and went straight to the exit.
As the sound of the dorm’s door being locked on the outside, Sullyoon’s heart was racing millions of miles an hour. She whispers to herself something she wished you had heard “Oppa, you paboya (idiot)…………Saranghae (I love you)”.
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You take a deep breath to awaken your senses back. You thought that was a good way to end your day, but you nearly forget about the other members. Your stay with Sullyoon went a bit too late. So, you hoped that you when you arrived at the radio station, they wouldn’t be questioning your delayed arrival. Without wasting any more time, you drive back to the radio station to pick up the girls.
“ Yahhh Oppa, why are you late?” Bae being the first out of the station is asking you sulkily. You pick your own ears to check if it’s still intact due to her loud voice, Bae’s voice being the most obnoxious one neglected the fact that you almost thought she’s the most normal one out of the six member. But you grow to accept her later on. You decided to ignore her completely and open the door for other members as they walk past her.
With everyone on board, you stroll away down under the night sky of Seoul. “Oppa, why did you pick us up so late?” you sigh in defeat as another one asking you the same question, Haewon peaking her head from her seat. But this time, you answer them as it will only make it even more shady if you stayed silent “I had ramyeon before I left Sullyoon before picking you guys up”. Your anxious mind already predicts the subsequent question after you answered, so you gulp your saliva and willingly admit your fate. “Ouh getting TMI (too much information) from oppa, I was expecting you to say the medical check-up was taking too long.” Haewon said, her voice trails with disbelief . Kyujin follow up with an unexpected question  “So you did have ramyeon with Sullyoon?”. The two witty member’s comments had everyone bursting into laughter upon catching you in the act.
Your face went bright red getting fully exposed by the members. You wouldn’t have a calmly ride back to their dorm. You sensed that there’s something going on among the members like a gossip talk among them. You would like to give it more though, but you already fed up with the amount of catastrophe you had to put up today. But your guts unable to detect the fact that there’s a rivalry between who will get your heart, you did not notice Bae being the only one who’s not amused by Kyujin and Haewon act on you as she is saddened by a new revelation about you and Sullyoon.
With everyone going back to their respective resting nest, finally it’s your turn to went back home. Since tomorrow is Nmixx day off, that’s also means your time to compensate lack of sleep on the weekdays. As soon as you step inside your apartment, you waste no time slamming face first into your bed. The bed quickly sucks up your tired body and off to slumber world you go.
The sound of your phone ringing for hours forcing you to wake up. As you squint your eyes to see who’s the caller, it shows on the dialer “Manager-Unnie”. You mutter to yourself “Who the heck would call someone this early”. “Yahhhhh! Y/N -shii, don’t you get my message? Why aren’t you here yet?” and immediately she hungs up the calls. You are puzzled by the unexpected morning scenario, but as soon as you see your phone messenger app was filled with half a thousand unread messages. You are still unaware that one tap of a button to the messenger app would turn your life around completely.
The app was opened, and you still haven’t grasped on what’s going on, you thought maybe just a scammer getting your phone number and spam the heck out of you, you wouldn’t make a deal out of it. You went to Manager-Unnie contact list to check her message. The first message was not a greeting but a news headline link. You starting to feel uncomfortable seeing the link has disturbing wording especially it’s spelling out the group you are taking care of. Adding more horror to you, the picture blurred somewhat showing familiarity about the recent place you have been yesterday.
You tapped on the link, it leads you to Naver News website, as the website starting load its content. Your eyes went wide upon seeing the big red headline saying “NMIXX Male Manager Hurts NMIXX’Fan who’s A Reporter”. Just by reading the main headline, you went to your browser app and see the news feed are filled with your entitled name, “NMIXX Manager” across the screen. You make a call to manager-unnie to analyse the situation. “Palli wah (quick), it would be easier if we discussed this back at the office” She hanged up on you again.
You are frustrated to death waking up into this hell hole, you just want to suffocate yourself with your pillow. Throw you pillow aside, you stared into your ceiling, steadily digesting the uproar you had woken up to. Soon, your breath becoming more stable, and you went to your bathroom to fully wake you up with a splash of cold water shivering your senses to wake. A swig of water cleansing your through, comb your hair to look presentable, donning your jacket and you are ready to face the media allegation.
With van key in hand, you are set to go but you make a quick stop at Ahjussi’s store. “Isn’t today your day off?’ Ahjussi question and pause his daily sweep down the street. “Got an emergency matter to deal with” Ahjussi bid you safe trip before you heading straight to the company.
Cutting to the chase, you are currently running through the company’s corridor making a beeline for the company meeting room. You almost slipped trying to grab a hold of the room door handle. Your stomach immediately sucked in upon everyone arrival making the tension atmosphere tighten. Expressionless and poker face were the only  option for whoever enter this room. All higher up who are under Nmixx management are there too including the members, but you don’t spot Sullyoon anywhere. Maybe she went to the bathroom. You tried to squeeze in to take a seat vacant near the girls and whisper to them about Sullyoon whereabout. “She back at the dorm recovering” manager-unnie respond coldly, not even staring at your way.
You felt like you are missing a memo. Surely, it’s just some misleading article. Just pay the whoever posted the article to take it down, right? Thud! You are jolted by the loud hitting sound at the far side of the room and only having you swallowing your saliva upon acknowledging the presence of the CEO himself. The sound of him flaring his nostrils only making you tremble down to the core and unexpectedly he slides a tablet down the tabletop straight to you. The tablet almost slides off, but you managed to catch it. The CEO recognized how clueless you are upon entering the room, not well informed how serious this issue is.
You tried to be friendly by smiling and nodding at the CEO that you will go ahead look what the tablet screen shows. You saw the familiar headline back at your apartment but as you scrolled more into the article, more dread enveloping your skin. The details of what you missed what got you quivering your legs. You were bewildered by how freaking clever they twist the narrative just from a clip that didn’t do you justice. They only add the part of the clip where grab a hold onto the reporter’s wrist.
That bastard reported makes up stories about how you push the reporter away a bit too harsh. He has the audacity to post his injury on the internet to make him the victim. The video cut making a villain impression of you portraying as a villain, saying unnecessary usage of hard force to push away fans and reporter, even there is a picture of you last night with Sullyoon getting medical check-up and adding description that you hurt the idol and make it seem like you try to silent the idol from voicing out their assault by giving them a treatment. They were never assaulted in the first place, now they put their attack and pinpoint it to you.
You voice out your opinion about this absurdity of the situation it is “Sajang-nim (CEO) this is all just altered stories making me look bad, I have never raised my hand on Nmixx member ever, and I- “. You were cut short as you the CEO interrupts you with a question “How did Sullyoon get hurt initially?” his clasped hand covering his face partially investigating you. You carry on explicate what happened beginning with everything going according to the schedule up until the period where it all happened, after the interview. You said Sullyoon was heading towards the van, but a random reporter grabs her wrist cruelly, so you had to interfere as you saw her getting hurt by the reporter.
You were sceptical, you thought you did great explain yourself to them, but you hear everyone in the room murmuring with each other. “Is that all?” question proposed by the CEO got you feeling agonizing, as he stands up from his seat and make his way to you, you tried to look as confident as possible not being hitched by his demeanour. “I’m opened for any possibility, even I would believe there’s an alien attending the interview yesterday. But…….” The CEO gave his insight on this matter, accumulating to your distress there’s a brief interval before he finished his sentence. “If there’s no evidence, there’s no persuasion” The CEO utter his last word.
You were taken aback by the unexpected turn of event. “Ouh Come on Sajang-nim, you guys just going to believe that bullshit of an article” you sound with clear hearing of everyone in the room. You turn to the members “You girls know me, right? We have been together ever since”, you know it very well that the members know you are innocence but seeing their horrified face only proving how powerless they are even if they spoke out the truth, the media had overpowered the truth once again.
You attempt to seek help from the occupants maybe there’s hope among the darkness “Hey, we can fix this together, we got thi-”. You look back to the sound of opening door, you saw a group of people with a dark blue uniform. One of the guys walk up to you with a handcuff “Mr, you are under arrest for assault. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law” prosecuting you by handcuffing both of your hands.
“Sajang-nim! hey Sajang-nim! what are you doing? Is this some sort of prank? Get off me! I’m not finished talking to the CEO” you squirm left and right unable to come to terms with reality as the policemen drag you out of the company’s building. You are then met with million flashes of camera shutter from dozens of reporters from difference mainstream news agency and plethora of mic shoved in front of you. “Did you hurt Nmixx member?”, “What grudge do you hold onto them?”, “Is it related to Jinni leaving”. Avoidance of camera shutter and mic was the only thing you do up until you step inside at the back seat of a cop car. From that point on, the future looks bleak.
Back at Nmixx dormitory, Sullyoon just woke up from her heart fluttering dream of you. She took it as a sign of good weekend, maybe she could even get you to spend time with her. But soon, her initial thought was replacing with questionable silent atmosphere of their dorm. She wonders where everyone went. Did they go to get grocery? She investigates every room, but no one was there. She went back to the living room and detect the sound of doors opening. She doesn’t suspect anything and saw her members returned from somewhere she isn’t aware off.
As she inspects closer to her member and grasp a situation from what it seems to be the members just arrived from a crime scene. Some have dark spot under their eyes, some have tears spot visible. She inquired about what happened this morning. Upon hearing the news, she thought her aching sharp pain on her wrist is the most painful experienced but that turns out to false after what she just heard from the members. Just a mere thought of not being able to see you again shattered her heart to million pieces. Tears starting to shed to thousands off her eyes. She would gladly trade her arm to be able to see you again.
 She couldn’t had imagined she would wake up into this nightmare. She slams her affected wrist hard into the ground hoping to wake up from this unbearable nightmare but it only making her wheeping in pain and mourn over your disappearance even more. A total horror shot down upon their members faces as they immediately went towards Sullyoon to stop her from hurting herself. They couldn’t stand anymore seeing their loved ones getting hurt after losing you and couldn’t be possible be her next.
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It’s been weeks since the article explode, with Nmixx’s manager arrest and their activity was halted after the controversy. And here you stand in the middle of your cell, staring out into the small opening separating you and the outside world. You would be lying if you couldn’t be any better since your arrest. Honestly, it turns out going a lot better than you expected. No need to deal with early traffic, countless paperwork signage, eyes blinded by paparazzi, and…...even free from controversy.
Life’s great in here but there’s lingering void in your heart that you are longing for, the feeling of loving someone, your little sister and the members that you leaved unintended. They are the only thing that you have left, Jiu; your little sister, Haewon, Kyujin, Jiwoo, Lily, Bae and your dearest Sullyoon. By now, you had truly accept your feelings for her, there’s no faking it anymore. *Bang-Bang-Bang- “Wake up sleepy head……you are free now” You are about to scream with anger when the guards interrupt your daydreaming, but the latter comment got you perplex.
No news, no message, not even a pigeon letter informing you about your released. With your former outfit on, the one clothing before you were dragged to jail. You stand cluelessly outside of the prison gate with no goal in mind. You thought of going back inside with now that you don’t have anywhere to go. On the verge of making the decision, you heard a honking noice. “Hey kid, need a ride?” that one pervy ahjussi from the convenience store is here to fetch you after your discharged.
While you and ahjussi strolled down the highway in his muscle car, you end the silence by inquiring him about your release. Ahjussi simply hand you his phone with an article already opened on the screen. “NMIXX’s Manager Was Never It, It Was The Reporter” you read the title word by word, not repeating the same mistake again like how you act cocky towards the CEO for missing the detail about the whole issue. Just right below the title, a display of a video playing a clip.
The clip basically displays how the incident played out from a different perspective. The video capture from the initial grab of Sullyoon wrist with a clear sign of the reporter pulling her wrist forcefully, up until the second you popped into frame interfering the scene showcasing the need of rough grab onto the reporter’s wrist. “Heheeheh, took them long enough to post the video” you let out a feeble laugh on how ridiculous that you shouldn’t have to serve your time in prison if this video went viral, but your realistic mindset brings you back with optimism. “It must be tough mentally for the user who recorded this to post the video” you mutter to yourself.
On top of that, there’s another clip that catches your attention as the thumbnail used was clearly shows Sullyoon’s face. As you tap onto the video, you’re in for a treat as the seconds progressing through the video. Your heart softens and turns into fragile glass witnessing the content displaying Sullyoon speaking the truth to the media.
 It was clearly shown it was her own initiative knowing the low-quality recording. “Our manager-oppa actually……...he was never the one that was portrayed on the article. Ever since our debut, he always there for us through thick and thin. He can be selfless at times and still got his insecurity about taking care of people, but he is putting his effort at best……...” she proceeded to explain her whole side of the story supposedly being the most affected victim out of this tragedy. Until reaching the moment where you and she went to the hospital to seek medical attention to treat the injury origin from the earlier event. Adding more sorrowful setting in the video, it was self-evident that Sullyoon was stifling her tears wallowing the past for the sake shedding the truth to the world.
For the first time Sullyoon referring you as Oppa was one thing to think about. Her comforting words heals your self-doubting capabilities of managing them was another. The video’s sound cut off suddenly, marking the end of the video. You rub out your eyes to dry out the tears. “Have you got any place to visit?” he probed you for answers. You choose to visit your little sister, Jiu.
Jiu, being one of those people that you are truly cherishes. But unfortunately, she got chronic fatigue syndrome (CFS). You aren’t an intellectual in diseases but after reading a few articles of it. You are only saddened by it fully understand how unfortunate Jiu’s condition is. Here is the analogy, normally you’re tired, you take a rest, you got better but for these patients they get tired, they take a rest, and they are still tired. Most hurting part about it, Jiu’s smile will always be carved on her face whenever you visited her.
The journey to the hospital where your sister hospitalised was quiet, with you sitting silently contemplating your current situation. The pervy ahjussi was only a nickname for him from the first impression of him. When you first moved into your current apartment now, as you open the door, the sight of him ducking with a bra attached to his face makes a terror out of you. It was a pain in the arse for him to explain himself, but it got solved soon later. Apparently, he was the landlord wanting to check the water pump to your apartment but still that doesn’t explain the bra part.
Soon after knowing him even more, he doesn’t appear to be of what your first impression thinks of him. Yes, he’s the one been there for you at your lowest, betrayed by your fake friends, the genuine one taking his own way to the after world, news of your sister had to be transferred to another hospital due to the lack of service of the former hospital as your sister illness getting more severe. Everything went downhill for that whole week.
It was raining that day; you embrace the coldness of rainwater soaking you in waiting hypothermia to put a full stop of your life voyage. It all change when the drunk ahjussi throwing tantrum you to drink with him because he needs a drinking buddy. You got more confused at a drunk a person taking walk outside in the rain, being drunk should be enough reason to. Entering a new day, you regret drinking with ahjussi as you got a massive hangover. Both of you went to their respective toilet bowl and a sink to ease up the hangover. Who would have known a middle-aged man acting childish to annoy you would extend your lifeline.
Reminiscing the past got you company for the whole car ride. Upon arriving, you inform the receptionist about your presence before strolling down to her room. You asked ahjussi beforehand to stop by a store to buy some flowers and her favourite snack, tteokbokki.
As you look through the glass door of her room, you spot a figure that’s not matching with any of your possible ideas. Wears a black hoodie with a black cap on. Doesn’t look like a nurse here. You don’t remember having an extra sibling or relative. Is it Jiu’s friends? She never tells you about them, maybe she a got a new one during your time in prison? You set the final thought as the possible answer. But you are opened for any possibilities as you heighten your alertness as there’s couldn’t be possible, she got herself a boyfriends
You slide the door opened, attracting all occupant’s attention to you. As Jiu’s eyes set to you, she waved cheerly to you transitioning your facial expression from serious to friendly. Jiu was informed earlier about your visit by the nurse through Ahjussi contact. You saw the mysterious figure turn his face to see whom Jiu’s waving to, but he quickly turns back. You catch a glimpse of his side profile but can’t construct an image who might this be.
“Who is this Jiu-yah?” you inquire Jiu while you cautiously glance at the unknown man’s face, but the man keeps averting his face from you. “She’s been visiting me while you were serving time” you look at Jiu with question mark planted on your face. “She?’ you wide eyed you sister and emphasized the word pronunciation intricately upon this new disclosure. “Yoona-yah, don’t be shy, this is my brother” Jiu nudge Sullyoon’s shoulder a bit gesturing her to face you properly.
“Anyeonghaseyo manager-nim” Sullyoon lightly bow in courtesy and weakly smiled at you after she pulls down her hoodie. You got millions of questions running in your heads upon seeing Sullyoon visiting your sister
After a solid hour of connecting the dots, finally everyone is on the same page. Clearly during your imprisonment, Sullyoon decided to visit your sister as she feels like it’s a right thing to do. You are not the only one having guilt rotting you alive, Sullyoon also felt the same way towards your sister especially, having your loved one wrongly accuse because one’s unable to do anything in their power to save them. With the help of manager-unnie, she could track where your sister hospitalised.
Ever since then, Sullyoon and Jiu were so in tune together, even if it’s only a couple of visits but every meeting mends her heart as she expressed out to Jiu like you were in front of her. While Nmixx schedule suspended and everyone were so stressed handling the issue, Sullyoon able to find tranquillity in the midst of this controversy by visiting Jiu in her free time. Every time Sullyoon visit your sister, she talks a lot about you, in which you aren’t conscious about. Jiu has a knack for digging through people emotion, mind controlling everyone to spill a little too much information. She kind of have a plan as she heard you are going to visit her at the same time with Sullyoon
“Oppa, what are you going to do now? you’re free” Jiu raise a question to you, unconsciously waking you up from staring a little too much to Sullyoon, hitting you back to reality now that you are yet again starting from zero. Sullyoon look at you with anticipation expecting an answer that align with what she hoped for. “I’m not too sure, probably check on Ahjussi about any job vacancy at his convenience store” you respond naively, earning a jab at your torso from Jiu. “What was that for?” you rub the area of Jiu’s jab quite shock by her random attack. “Just because” Jiu half-heartedly displays her fake smile with a scowling amber seeing your air-headed mindset. “Yoona-yah, you guys got a new manager?” Sullyoon shake head in denial.
In front of Jiu, presented two people who are unaware of their mutual affection. Jiu’s trying to play cupid with you two but the way you react mindlessly to the question earlier, makes her sighing with hopeless. “Alright then, I need to go to the toilet, so I don’t think I need to see you guys off, Is that alright?” Jiu clap her hand indicating you and Sullyoon can leave. She hopes that you guys can work this off on your own.
As the three of you walk out, “Bye guys” Jiu bid off cutely before turning around going the opposite way to the toilet. With both you and Sullyoon left alone, awkward atmosphere ensued. In your head, you amused how drastically energetic Jiu had been, you fully understand her condition as one can’t possibly exert themselves to much or they will be drained easily. Truthfully, having Sullyoon giving her occasional visit is good for her recovery in terms of emotional scale. Sullyoon on the other hand went haywire. She never thought she would see you this early after your imprisonment. Maybe at least she expected you to be freed from the charges but not this early after an anonymous video was uploaded online in which it clear out all of the injustice that had happened.
“Has your wrist fully healed yet?” your sudden question diverts her consciousness back, instantly making eye contact with you. You already know the answer as she’s now not constrained to a sling anymore, but you want to hear her soothing voice reply as it would put you more at ease. “It’s been only a week after I removed my sling, so far I can move my wrist around, even the bruise patch is gone” she showed you her wrist that’s been fully recovered returning her fair white skin.
Soon enough, both of you walk together mindlessly, cherishing each other company but reluctant to initiate a conversation. You look around you, empty and tranquil space of open-air area of the hospital encourage you to engage in a small talk with her. “How’s the members doing back at the dorm?” both of you converse with each other at a gentle pace, enjoying the moment. She calmly replies to you stating that the girls recover far better than expected after the incident. She goes on how the members cope with criticism and pressure from the media, reappearance of false accusation of the members kicking Jinni out of the group. There is some instances where Jiwoo was too scared to even go out of her room, locking herself up and many more countless nights crying, exhausting mentally by the insults and isolating themselves from the outside world. You regain solace again knowing the company doing their job rehabilitate the girls. Unluckily, you didn’t ask how she cope her problem considering she had cried countless night missing you so much.
“……. It was really a rough week, but I really wished someone was there to lend their shoulder when we are at our lowest” Sullyoon’s eyes are on you, she tries to push her luck to gauge your response, hoping it relates to you reuniting with the group again……. reuniting with her. You take a nervous deep breath, pretending to ignore her indirect comment towards you. You would be lying that you wouldn’t want to reconcile with them. In the matter of fact, you want to, you need to, but after listening of what the girls had gone through, you can’t fathom at the assumption of you retaking the position as their manager again without a promise that their safety is guaranteed. You done hurting people like how you have hurt your parent heart for being incompetent. Before you know it, nature had taken their lives before you can ask them for forgiveness.
You were so in dazed with your thought that you didn’t notice Sullyoon stop her track. As you feel an empty space right beside you, you look over your shoulder and see Sullyoon looking at you with a sulk as if she’s saying you are ignoring her. You grin, reliving the image of Sullyoon that you used to love but it’s time to let her go. You walk back to her in gentle pace. And as you stand in front of her, you patted her head and say “Yoona-yah………it’s okay, you can take care of yourself now”.
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5 years after.
“Sullyoon-sunbaenim (senior), how did you guy able to break the 7-year curse? and still maintained as a 6-membered group, and what makes you guys want to renew your contract?” Sullyoon lightly chuckle, seeing her junior getting nudge by her co-partner for asking to many questions in a single sentence. “Well actually, it’s a long story so I hope I can make you guys understand in a brief explanation…….”. She promptly continues her speech act stating the group secret overcoming the curse which is deep understanding to one another. Deep bond comes from extensive communication among the members, they would bicker over little things but communicate through small misunderstanding built into big network of empathy to each other. Additional point, the group made noteworthy changes after the big conflict 5 years ago,  Truly reinforced their capability to strive for the future. She ends her answer with a small bow.
Under the span of 5 years, a lot of unforgettable achievements accomplish by Nmixx. For instance, winning an award as The Song of the Year categories under The Mnet Asian Music Awards (MAMA) on their latest comeback and success continues with reaching new audience at the Billboard Music Awards and was proposed as one in the Top Duo/Group category. Focusing on more individual member, every member had done their solo debut. Presenting each respective member’s distinct colour including Sullyoon. Today marking her first solo comeback attaining her first win on Music Bank Show.
“Sullyoon-shii, after this magazine photoshoot, we will end with a fan sign event” Her private manager informed her for the upcoming schedule. She hummed in respond before he leaves her alone in the dressing room. She takes a quick moment looking at herself in the mirror tracing back of fond memories up until now. Ever since then, Sullyoon developed into more confident and independent women then she is. Her dedicated fan would discover that she’s becoming more charming than ever contrasting from her old wary and shy behaviour.
She got a call from her stone-cold manager “Sullyoon-shii, are you still in the dressing room? We need to move to the photoshoot set”. Sullyoon answer coldly before packing up her purse and finish her last two schedule. However, even if she did turn for the better, she prefers her old self, composed and reserved demeanour. In her member’s eyes, she’s still Sullyoon who opted to stay indoors and play games all day. Her on-stage and off-stage aura was so difference to the point where the members joke about her being another whole new person when she’s on-stage.
After the recovery of the tragedy 5 years ago,  manager-unnie was appointed as the main manager and got them a new assistant to aid her side. The new assistant who is now her temporary private manager is supervising her schedule strictly and professionally. Sullyoon only had one last schedule to go through.  “Huhhhhhhh, when will this end? I just want to go back home and sleep” Sullyoon whined in frustration leaning on her right shoulder on top of the vanity table. With eyes closed, she breath steadily trying to regain her composure after 10 hours schedule with barely any breaks.
As she opens her eyes, she sees her left wrist recalling her past memories. She sorts of wished that there’s more significant trace to preserve her memories of you. The only remembrance she had of you is her unforgettable wrist pain still fresh in her mind till this day. A ringing sound from across the room got her senses heightened, breaking her out of her mental imagery. She stands up slouching to get the phone call from her purse thrown to the opposite side of the room as she enters the room earlier in annoyance of her pack time schedule.
She takes out her phone and see the screen display the dialler’s name “Manager-unnie”. She takes the call calmly “Anyeong, what is it Unnie?”. “Ouh Yoona-yah, there’s some adjustment with manager time shift, it looks like my assistant had to went back to take care of other group itineraries, don’t worry we already got you covered on manager replacement, there will be a new manager on your way to take care of you starting today, Okay”. Before she can respond, manager-unnie hung up on her before she could ask for her new manager’s name. She sighs in disappointment but quickly regain her emotion at a thought of tricking the new manager to skip the last schedule so she can head straight back home early.
A knocking sound of the dressing room’s door can be heard signaling the new manager has arrived, “Wait for a moment” Sullyoon rapidly pack up her belongings to execute her plan. She maybe got a little too carried away of how thrilled this is going to work, taking advantage of newcomer for her own benefit. With her belongings in hand, she scrambles away towards the door. As she’s about to reach the doorknob, the door swings open hitting her in the face.
She lands butt first on the floor, making her flinch in pain “Ouch, can’t you wait outside instead”. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you” the familiarity of the voice got her nerves sending shivers throughout her body. She looks up towards the source of the voice, as her eye regaining its focus. You take her hand in yours helping her to stand up. Sullyoon gasped in shocked upon recognizing the figure she misses the most. “Y/N oppa?”.  
-The end-
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literary-illuminati · 11 months ago
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Book Review 68 - Babel by R. F. Kuang
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Overview
I came to Babel with extremely little knowledge about the actual contents of the book but a deep sense of all the vibes swirling around its reception – that it was robbed of a Hugo nomination (if the author didn’t outright refuse it), that it’s probably the single buzziest and most Important sf/f release of 2022, that it was stridently political, and plenty more besides. I also went in having mostly enjoyed The Poppy War series and being absolutely enamoured by the elevator pitch of an alternate history Industrial Revolution where translation is literally magic. And, well-
It is wrong to say I hated this book, but only because keeping track of my complaints and starting organize this review in my head was entertaining enough to keep me invested in the reading experience.
The story is set in an alternate 1830s, where the rise of the British Empire relies upon the dominance of its translators, as it is the mixture of translation and silverworking, the inscription of match-pairs in different languages on bars of worked silver and the leveraging of the ambiguity and loss of meaning between them that fuels the world’s magic. The protagonist is pluckted from his childhood home in Canton after his family dies in a cholera outbreak and whisked away to the estate of Professor Lowell, an Oxford translator he quickly realized is his unacknowledged father. He’s made to choose an English name (Robin Swift) and raised and tutored as a future translator in service to the Empire.
The meat of the story is focused on Robin’s education in Oxford, his relationship with the rest of his cohort, and his growing radicalization and entanglement with the revolutionary Hermes Society. Things come to a head when in his fourth year the cohort is sent back to Canton to, well, help provoke the first Opium War, though none of them aware of that. The final act follows the fallout of that, by which I mean it lives up to the full title of “Or the Necessity of Violence: An Arcane History of the Oxford Translators' Revolution”.
To be clear, this was technically a very accomplished book. The writing never dragged and the prose was, if not exactly lyrical, always clear and often evocative. Despite the breadth of space and time the story covers, I never had any complaints about the pacing – and honestly, the ending was, dramatically speaking, one of the more natural and well-executed ones I’ve read recently. It’s very well-constructed.
All that being said – allow me to apologize for how the rest of this is mostly just going to be a litany of complaints. But the book clearly believes itself to be an important and meaningful work of political art, which means I don’t feel particularly bad about holding it to high standards.
Narrative Voice
To start with, just, dear god the tone. This is a book with absolutely zero faith in its audience’s ability to reach their own conclusions, or even follow the symbolism and implication it lays down. Every important point is stated outright, repeated, and all but bolded and underlined. In this book set in 1830s England there are footnotes fact-checking the imperialists talking heads to, I guess, make sure we don’t accidentally become convinced by their apologia for the slave trade? Everything is just relentlessly didactic, in a way that ended up feeling rather insulting even when I agreed with the points Kuang was making.
More than that, and this is perhaps a more subjective complaint but – for an ostensible period piece, the narrative voice and perspective just felt intensely modern? This was theoretically an omniscient third person book, with the narrative voice being pretty distinct from any of the actual characters – with the result that the implicit narrator was instead the sort of person of spends six hours a day getting into arguments on twitter and for this effort calls themselves a progressive activist. The identities of all the characters – as delivered by the objective narration – were all very neat and legible from the perspective of someone at a 2022 HR department listing how diverse their team was, which was somewhere between a tragic lost opportunity to show how messy and historical racial/ethnic/national identities are and outright anachronistic, depending. (This was honestly one of the bigger disappointments, coming from Kuang’s earlier work. Say what you will of The Poppy War series, the narration is with Rin all the way down, and it trusts the reader enough not to blink.) More than that it was just distracting – the narration ended up feeling like an annoying obstacle between me and the story, and not in any fun postmodern way either.
Characters
Speaking of the cast – they simply do not sound or feel like they actually grew up in the 19th century. Now, some modernization of speech patterns and vocabulary and moral commensense is just the price of doing business with mass market period pieces, granted, but still – no 19th century Anglo-Indian revolutionary is going use the phrase ‘Narco-military state’ (if for no other reason than we’re something like a century early for ‘narco-state’ to be coined as a term at all). An even beyond feeling out of time most of the characters feel kind of thinly sketched?
Or no, it’s not that the characters are thinly sketched so much as their relationships are. We’re repeatedly, insistently told that these four students are fast friends and closer than family and would happily die for each other, but we’re very rarely actually shown it. This is partly just a causality of trying to skim over a four-year university education in the middle third of one book, I think, but still – the good times and happy moments are almost always sort of skimmed over, summarized in the course of a paragraph or two that usually talk in terms of memories and consequences more than the relationships themselves. The points of friction and the arguments, meanwhile, are usually played out entirely on the page, or at least described in much more detail. In the end you kind of have to just take it as read that any of these people actually love each other, given that at least two of them seem to be feuding at any given point for the entire time they know each other.
Letty deserves some special attention. She’s the only white member of Robin’s cohort at Babel and she honestly feels like less of acharacter and more a collection of tropes about white women in progressive spaces? Even more than the rest, it’s hard to believe the rest of the class views her as beloved ride-or-die found family when essentially every time she’s on screen it’s so she can do a microagression or a white fragility or something. Also, just – you know how relatively common it is to see just, blatantly misogynistic memes repackaged as anti-racist because it specifies ‘white women’? There’s a line in this that almost literally says ‘Letty wasn’t doing anything to disprove the stereotype of woman as uselessly emotional and hysteric’.
Also, she’s the one who ends up betraying the other three and trying to turn them in when they turn revolutionary. Which is probably inevitable given the book’s politics, but as it happened felt like less of the shocking betrayal that it was supposed to be and more just, checking off a box for a dramatic reverse. Of course she turned on them, none of them ever really seemed to even like each other.
As a Period Piece
So, the book is set in the 1830s, in the midst of the industrial revolution and its social fallout, and the leadup to the First Opium War (which is, through the magic of, well, magic ,but also mercantilist economics, make into a synecdoche for British global dominion more broadly). On the one hand, the setting is impeccably researched, recent and relevant historical events are referenced whenever they would come up, and the footnotes are full to bursting with quotes and explanations of texts or cultural ephemera that’s brought up in the narration.
On the other, the setting doesn’t feel authentic in the slightest, the portrayal of the British Empire is bizarrely inconsistent, and all that richly researched historical grounding ends up feeling less like a living world and more like a particularly well-down set for a Doctor Who episode.
The story is incredibly focused around Oxford as a city and a university. There’s a whole author’s note about the research and slight changes made into its geography and I absolutely believe its portrayal as a physical location and the laws about how women were treated and how the different colleges were organized and all that is exactly as accurate as Kuang wanted them to be. The issue is really the people. With the exception of a few cartoonish villains who barely get more than a couple pages apiece, no one feels, sounds like, or acts like they actually belong in the 19th century. The racism the protagonists struggle with all feels much more 21st century than Victorian, and the frame of mind everyone inhabits still comes across more as ‘unusually blatantly racist Englishman’ than 19th century scholars and polymaths.
This is especially blatant as far as religion goes. It’s occasionally mentioned, sure enough, but to the extent anyone actually believes in Christianity it’s of a very modern and disenchanted sort – this is a society that sends out missionaries as a conscious tool of colonial expansion, not because of anything as silly or absurd as actually wanting to spread their gospel. Also like, it’s Oxford, in the nineteenth century. For all the racism the protagonists have to deal with, they should be getting so much more shit from ‘well-meaning’ locals and students trying to save their (one Muslim, one atheist, one probably Christian but black and protective of Haitian Vodou on a cultural level which would be more than enough) souls.
Or, and this is more minor, it is a central conceit of the whole finale that if a few (like, two) determined revolutionaries can infiltrate Babel they’ll be able to take the entire place hostage with barely any trouble. This is because the students and professors there are, basically, whimpy bookworms who’ll faint at the sight of blood and have no stomach for the sort of violence their work actually supports and drives. Which – look, I really don’t want to defend the ruling class of Victorian Britain here, but I’m not sure physical cowardice is really one of their failings, as a group? I mean, there’s an entire system of institutionalized child abuse in the boarding schools they went to to get them used to taking and dealing out violence and abuse. Basically every upper-class sport is thinly disguised military drill or ritual combat (okay, or rowing). Half of them would graduate to immediately running off and invading places for the glory of the queen. I’m not sure two sleep-deprived nerds with knives would actually have been able to cow the crowd here, is what I’m saying. (This would stick out less if the text wasn’t so dripping with contempt for them on precisely these grounds.)
Much less minor are our heroic revolutionaries themselves. And okay, this is more a matter of taste than anything but like – the Hermes Society is an illegal conspiracy of renegade current and former Babel scholars dedicated to using their knowledge of magic and access to university resources to oppose and undermine the British Empire in general and the work of the school in particular. Think Metternich’s worse nightmare, but in Oxford instead of Paris and focused on colonial liberation (continental Europe barely exists for the purposes of the book, Britain is Empire.) So! A secret society of professional revolutionaries in the heydey of just that, with a name that just has to be Hermetic symbolism, who concern themselves with both high politics and metaphysics.
They are just so very, very boring. This is the age of the Conspiracy of the Equals, the Carbonari, the Seasons! The literal Illumanti are still within living memory! Where’s the pageantry, the ritual, the grandiosity? The elaborate initiation rituals and oaths of undying loyalty? They’re so pragmatic, so humble, so (and I know I keep coming back to this) modern. It’s just such an utter wasted opportunity. Even beyond the level of aesthetics, these are revolutionaries with remarkably little positive ideology – the oppose colonialism and racism for reasons they take as self-evident and so don’t feel the need to theorize about it (and talk about them with the vocabulary of a modern activist, because of course they do), but they’re pretty much consciously agnostic as to what world should look like instead. They vaguely end up supporting a sort of petty-bourgeois socialism (in the Marxist sense), but the alliance with Luddites is essentially political convenience – they really don’t seem to have any vision of the future at all, either in England or the various places they claim as homelands.
On Empire and Industrialization
The story is set during the early nineteenth century, so of course the Industrial Revolution is a pretty core part of the background. The Silver Industrial Revolution, technically, since the Babellers translation magic is in this world a key and load-bearing part of it. Despite the addition of miracle-working enhancers and supports to its fundamental technology, the industrial revolution plays out pretty identically to history – right down to the same cities becoming hubs of industry, despite steam engines using enchanted silver instead of coal and thus, presumably, the entire economic and logistical system that brought this particular cities to prominence being totally unrecognizable. This is not a book that’s in any way actually about tracing how something would change history – which isn’t a complaint, to be clear, that’s a perfectly valid creative choice.
It does, however, make it rather galling that the single actually significant difference to history is that the introduction of magic turns the industrial revolution into a Legend of Zelda boss with a giant glowing weak point you can hit to destroy the whole enterprise.
On a narrative level, I get it – it simplifies things and allows for a far happier and more dramatic ending if destroying Babel is not just a symbolic act but also literally sends London Bridge falling down and scuttles the entire royal navy and every mill and factory in Britain. It’s just that I think that by doing so it trades away any chance for actually making interesting commentary on anti-colonial and -capitalist resistance. A world where a single act of spectacular terrorism really can destroy a modern empire is frankly so detached from our world that it ceases to be able to really materially comment upon it.
Like, the principle reason to not take the Luddites as your role models is not that they were morally vicious but that they were doomed – capitalism’s ability to repair damage to infrastructure and fixed goods is legitimately very impressive! Trying to force an entire ruling class not to adopt a technology that makes whoever commits to it tremendous amounts of money (thus, power) is a herculean task even when you have a state apparatus and standing army – adding an ‘off’ button to the lot of it just trades all sense of relevance for a satisfyingly cathartic ending.
(This is leaving untouched how the book just takes it as a given that the industrial revolution was a strictly immiserating force that did nothing but redistribute money from artisans to capitalists. Which certainly tracks as something people at the time would have thought but given how resolutely modern all the other politics in the work are rings really weirdly.)
All of which is only my second biggest issue with how the book presents its successful resistance movement. It all pales in comparison to making the Empire a squeamish paper tiger.
Like, the book hates colonialism in general and the British Empire in particular, the narrative and footnotes are filled with little asides about various atrocities and injustices and just ways it was racist or complicit in some particular atrocity. But more than that it is contemptuous of it, it views the empire as (as the cliche goes) a perpetually rotting edifice that just needs one good kick; that it persists only through the myth of its own invincibility, and has no stomach for violent resistance from within. Which is absolutely absurd, and the book does seem to know it on occasion when it off-handedly mentions e.g. the Peterloo Massacre – but a character whose supposed to be the grizzled cynical pragmatic revolutionary still spouts off about how slave rebellions succeed because their masters aren’t willing to massacre their own property. Which is just so spectacularly wrong on every axis its actually almost offensive.
More importantly, the entire final act of the story relies upon the fact that the British Empire would allow a handful of foreign students seize control of a vital piece of infrastructure for weeks on end and do nothing but try to wait them out as the national physically falls apart around them. Like, c’mon, there would be siege artillery set up and taking shots by the end of week two. As with the Oxford students, the Victorian elite had all manner of flaws – take your pick, really – but squeamishness wasn’t really one of them.
On Magic
So the magical system underlying the whole story is – you know how Machinaries of Empire makes imperial ideology and metaphysics literally magical, giving expert technicians the ability to create superweapons and destroy worlds provided that the Hexarchate’s subjects observe the imperial calendar of rites and celebrate its triumphs/participate in rituals glorying in the torture of its ‘heretics’? It’s not exactly a subtle metaphor, but it works.
Babel does something similar, except the foundational atrocity fueling the engine of empire on a metaphysical level is, like, cultural appropriation. As an organizing metaphor, I find this less compelling.
Leaving that aside, the story makes translation literally capable of miracle-working – which of necessity requires making ‘languages’ distinct natural categories with observable metaphysical boundaries. It then sets the story in the 19th century – the era of newborn nation states and education systems and national literatures, where the concept of the national-linguistic community was the obsession of the entire European intelligentsia. Now this is not a book concerned with how the presence of magic would actually have changed history, in the slightest, but like – given how fascinated it is by translation and linguistics you’d think the whole ‘a language is a dialect with a navy’ cliché would at least get a light mention (but then the book doesn’t really treat language as any more inherent or natural than it does any other modern identity category, I suppose.)
As an Allegory
Okay, so having now spent an embarrassing number of words establishing to my own satisfaction that the book really doesn’t work at all as a period piece, let us consider; what if it wasn’t trying to be?
A great many things about the book just fit much better if you take it as a commentary on the modern university with Victorian window-dressing. Certainly the driving resentment of Oxford as an institution that sustains itself and grows rich off the exploitation of international students it considers second-class seems far more apt applied to contemporary elite western schools than 19th century ones. Likewise the racism the heroes face all seems like the kind you’d expect in a modern English town rather than a Victorian one. I’m not well-versed enough on the economics of the city to know for sure, but I would wager that the gleeful characterization of Oxford as a city that literally starts falling to ruin without the university to support it was also less accurate in the 1830s than it is today.
Read like this, everything coheres much better – but the most striking thing becomes the incredible vanity of the book. This is a morality tale where the natural revolutionary vanguard with the power to bring global hegemony to its knees through nothing but witholding their labour are..students at elite western universities (not, I must say, a class I’d consider in dire need of having their egos boosted). The emotions underlying everything make much more sense, but the plot itself becomes positively myopic.
Beyond that – if this is a story about international students at elite universities, it does a terrible job of actually portraying them. Or, properly, it only shows a certain type; just about every foreign-born student or professor we meet is some level of revolutionary, deeply opposed in principle to the empire they work within. No one is actually convinced by the carrot of a life as an exploited but exceedingly comfortable and well-compensated technician in the imperial core, and there’s not really acknowledgement at all of just how much of the apparatus of international institutions and governments in the global south – including positions with quite a bit of real power – end up being staffed by exactly that demographic who just sincerely agree with the various ideological projects employing them. Kuang makes it far too easy on herself by making just about every person of colour in the books one of the good guys, and totally undersells how convincing hegemonic ideology can be, basically.
The Necessity of Violence
This is a pet peeve and it’s a very minor thing that I really wouldn’t bring it up if that wasn’t literally part of the title. But it is, so – it’s a plot point that’s given a decent amount of attention that Griffin (Robin’s secret older brother, grizzled professional revolutionary, his introduction to anti-colonialism) is blamed for murdering one of his classmates who had the bad luck to be studying while he was sneaking in to steal some silver – a student that was quite well-loved by the faculty and her very successful classmates, who have never forgiven him. Later on, it’s revealed that this is an utter rewriting of history, and she’d been a double agent pretending to let herself be recruited into the Hermes Society who’d been luring Griffin into an ambush when he killed her and escaped.
This is – well, the most predictable not-even-a-twist imaginable, for one, but also – just rank cowardice. You titled the book ‘the necessity of violence’, the least you can do is actually own it and show that violent resistance means people (with faces, and names, not just abstractions only ever talked about in general terms) who are essentially personally innocent are going to end up collateral damage, and people are going to hold grudges about it. Have some courage in your convictions!
Translation
Okay, all of that said, this isn’t a book that’s wholly bad, or anything. In particular, you can really tell how much of a passion Kuang has for the art and science of translation. The depth of knowledge and eagerness to share just about overflows from the page whenever the book finds an excuse to talk about it at length, and it’s really very endearing. The philosophizing about translation was also as a rule much more interesting and nuanced then whenever the book tried to opine about high politics or revolutionary tactics.
Anyways, I really can’t recommend the book in any real way, but it did stick in my head for long enough that I’ve now written 4,000 words about it. So at the very least it’s the interesting sort of bad book, y’know?
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saffron-words · 3 months ago
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Introduction and UtsuKare Translations Master Post
Some of you might recognize me as that Russian translator of Utsukushii Kare books from Wattpad. I decided to revive my tumblr to compile all the links and explanations here for those of you, MBM fans, who can't wait for official English releases of the books.
I could never keep a blog, so for now here I'll just tell how it all came about, and you can find links to all my MBM translations at the end (feel free to just skip the wall of text). So a couple of years ago I finally bowed down and decided to read Utsukushii Kare series in Japanese for language practice, even though I found the summary unappealing and I'm generally suspicious of overhyped media (as far as BL novels go, these books seemed to be The most hyped-up series in Japan). Much to my surprise, I loved it so much it was hard to move on. And while I waited for a chance to buy book 3 and Interlude, I gobbled up everything else related to the series that I could. The manga was only just starting, I didn't like dramaCDs (but I'm in the minority), and the drama somehow revived my love for watching Jdramas, even though I thought that this part of my fandom life has been over for years. When the second season started airing, I made a new friend in the Russian-speaking parts of the Internet who was even more obsessed with MBM than I am, and we fangirled to our hearts' content. At some point I promised her to translate the big sex scene from the end of book 3 as a gift for all the talks. I did, and since back then there was nothing for book 3 in any European language, as far as I know, I decided to post it online and give a link to English-speaking UtsuKare fans too. And since Wattpad doesn't allow copying text, and the browser translator feature from Google Translate was really inadequate, I also put up a link to the translation made with Deepl. As far as machine translators go, it is noticeably more comprehensible, and I didn't have the time (or skills to do the book justice, really) to translate it to English myself. Anyway, after this excerpt I thought I could manage one more important scene from book 3, then one more, and then I finally gave up and started translating it properly from the beginning. I also started correcting mistranslations in Deepl-versions that I kept doing for English readers, so some parts of the book are now much more readable than others. Now the third book is done and I started to work on book 2, Nikurashii Kare. I also translated several stories from Interlude and plan to do at least one more, but that is put on the backburner for now since I want to do as much of the book 2 as I can before book 4 in the main series comes out. Yes, we're getting a new Hira and Kiyoi book! This year too, probably. And unless it completely disappoints me or something terrible happens IRL, I plan to translate it as well.
So here are the links to everything I've translated from My Beautiful Man book series:
Book 3 "Nayamashii Kare" which continues the story past the movie (completed). The text is in Russian, but there are links to decent machine translations to English at the beginning of each part (I've also run through most of them and corrected the mistranslations). Or you can use the in-browser translation feature, but the results would be less readable.
Book 2 "Nikurashii Kare" which was technically turned into season 2 of the drama and the movie, but the script has deviated so much from the book, at times it's like a completely different story (in progress; about 1/4 of the book will be done with the next update which I plan on posting soon). I don't make Deepl translations for this since the official English release will be out in a couple of months.
Stories from other books in the series. The first part is a short scene from Nikurashii Kare, and the rest are stand-alone stories from Interlude. One of them had also been translated to English by Mauli before, but I didn't use her version when working on mine. The rest of the stories have never been translated by anyone else, as far as I know. These, too, have links to Deepl-versions at the beginning.
Disclaimer: my Japanese is not yet really on a level good enough to translate fiction, and there are bound to be mistranslations even if you read the original Russian versions. But I'm cross-checking myself on everything to try and keep those mistakes to minor things. I also know how to translate so I made sure that the text flows well, doesn't feel choppy and retains the same vibe that I get from reading the original.
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denwritesandcries · 11 months ago
Text
Like a Movie Scene – V.P
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Pairing: van palmer x fem!reader
Summary: Van Palmer should come with a warning sign. She invades your life with her crooked smiles and stupid jokes and draws you into her orbit without even asking for permission, as if it were something destined to happen. Which, you assume, it probably is.
Word count: 7,1k.
Content: No crash!AU, cursing, mentions of homophobia (it’s the 90’s), friends to lovers, slow burn, fluff, a little angst, shitty families, LOTS of movie references, the yjs being normal teenagers.
Note: Van is a flirty little shit but also a complete loser and we love her for that.
English is not my first language.
Van Palmer should come with a warning sign or at least a 'no returns' marked on the tag of her football jerseys.
You don't think it would have done any good, though. Van draws you into her orbit from the first moment you met, like a bright and warm sun; allowing you to exist steadily in her life even though, technically, she has invaded yours.
You suppose then, that you wouldn't have it any other way.
It's likely you guys would never have really spoken to each other if it weren't for a mix-up between your practice schedules and a stupid argument between your coaches.
You see, the track team – which you were part of – always had practice right after the football team, because Wiskayok High School barely had the structure to keep both a girls and boys football team running properly, let alone a decent space for the few other sports the small-town school offered. Your practices took place on the same days of the week and one after the other, always at the same time. It was the implicit rule: from 4:30 pm the field is yours.
Coach Martínez didn't seem to care, however, because there he was arguing with your coach. Since apparently football practice had run late and the girls just needed to train for an hour and a half.
Your coach wasn't having any of it – your time was already too short without these changes –, and now both men were in the middle of the field screaming in each other's faces while poor coach Scott tried to calm them down.
“Dude.” you recognize Natalie Scatorccio’s tired and rasp voice beside you: “They could just cancel and let us go.”
You and apparently most people there, if the expressions of annoyance and crossed arms were any indication, couldn't agree more.
"Right?" You said. “Look at them, you think they’re gonna fight?”
Nat let out an amused snort, “They’re going to eat Coach Ben alive, that’s what they’re gonna do.”
You would have said something else if it weren't for a third voice coming from right behind you:
“They're gonna kiss, look how close their faces are.” It was Van Palmer, the goalie, with red hair swinging in a ponytail and a smirk on her lips. She shook her head in mock disappointment and crossed her arms, pointing with her chin at the scene, “In front of us, kids? What a lack of professionalism.”
You choke on a laugh and her gaze snaps to you, her smile widening with something like satisfaction in her eyes. The attention made you nervous. You weren't used to interacting with Yellowjackets members other than Nat, who was easy to talk to and was your lab partner as well as sharing cigarettes at parties, meaning that talking to Van Palmer was a completely new territory.
You joke back insecurely: “At least you have real coaches. Ours is the art teacher.”
That made her let out an incredulous laugh and you'd be lying if you said you didn't feel pleased about it. Like almost the entire school, you also had a crush on the Yellowjackets.
Your laughter died down just as Coach Scott ran across the field to the two mixed teams with the most genuine expression of exhaustion you've ever seen. “We decided to share the space," he says. And that's all. Your first interaction with Van: a conversation that lasted less than three minutes mocking your teachers. You would never expect it to evolve into anything beyond that.
It's strange trying to do your usual routine of running through the poorly painted banners around the pitch – which looked like it had never seen better days – with a game taking place just a few meters away from you and your teammates. The fear of getting hit in the face by a ball was embarrassing.
Yet, as you wait for the relay, your gaze tracks the girls in action. You don't know the names of most of them, but recognize Taissa and Shauna fighting over the ball at one end of the field, the confrontation seems a little too intense, which makes you a bit nervous and your eyes go straight to the nearest goal, coincidentally, is the one Van is defending.
You notice how beautiful she looks with her expression completely concentrated and hands resting on the knees, waiting to act. Shauna overtakes Taissa and kicks hard the ball towards the goal; Van grabs it as soon as she crosses the white line on the lawn.
A giggle escapes you as Shauna turns around in frustration and the ball bounces back into the field and Van and Tai share a wry smile. The goalie turns her attention away from the game for a moment to look around and you swear she's looking for something – or someone.
Your teacher calls signaling your turn and you leave your thoughts while you line up with some other teammates.
You can do your relay routine for exactly fifteen minutes before something goes wrong.
You run on autopilot, so used to it that it's practically a second nature, letting your gaze return to scanning the field with interest when one of the players tries to score again and Van throws herself against the ground to catch the ball with a stronger and clearly exaggerated movement compared to last time. You thought this would be a one-time thing, seeing as the way Jackie and Nat rolled their eyes at her from where they were off to the side blocking other girls, but it kept happening the entire time you spent running until it was time for your break.
You choke on the water you drink when you realize that Van is the one staring at you this time, hands resting on her thighs, face sweaty and red, as if she doesn't have a game to focus on.
Shit, you think. How are you going to keep your head in training now? You wonder what you would have done to get a Yellowjacket's attention so suddenly as you return to your line.
You resume your run at a pretty good pace despite the sudden nervousness, feeling a little more confident when you hear a loud “Come on guys, no one has beaten L/N’s time yet!” coming from your teacher.
And then you're approaching the curve flush with the football field, the curve that gives you the perfect view of the goal.
Van is there, of course, just throwing the ball downfield again. Van, who rests her hands on her hips and catches her breath when Coach Scott blows the whistle and tells that her team won the game. Van, who turns around just in time and sees you approaching. Van, who removes a strand of red hair from her face that has escaped the ponytail and gives you a malicious toothy smile. Van, who winks at you. Van, who makes you fall. Literally.
It's all so out of nowhere, so suddenly that your heart misses a beat and you miss a step, tripping over your own feet as if your legs forgot how to work properly, falling in the middle of the curve and getting in the way of your colleagues further back in the lanes next to your side
Shit. Holyshit. Fuck. You just fell in front of the entire football team.
One of your friends bends down next to you to help and asks what happened, you blame the laces of your sneakers that untied when you fell because any reason is less embarrassing than what actually happened.
Your knee is bleeding and one of your arms is scraped, so the coach decides to have pity and leave you on the bench until it's time to leave. You make your way there with your ears burning and your head down.
If Van had any kind of interest in you, it definitely disappeared after that.
You remain alone on the bench, avoiding looking anywhere for a long time until Misty Quigley appears at your side with things to bandage your wound and you happily let her fill the silence with whatever she wants to say for the next few minutes.
Your night is spent tossing and turning in bed over the shame you've experienced and the next day as you walk through the hallways, the possibility of the goalie talking to you again doesn't even cross your mind as the first classes go by like a blur.
And then you're at your lunch table waiting for Nat to show up to talk like she usually does when she doesn't disappear around school, but after a few minutes a head of red hair takes over your vision instead of the usual dyed blonde.
“What’s up?” Van is sitting next to you, with the same crooked smile and her cheek propped up in a fist.
“Uh, nothing much really.” You have no idea what is going on; she is sitting with you, smiling at you and talking to you. Why is she doing this? You can feel a few other people's eyes on you through the interaction.
She introduces herself, even though you already know who she is, holding out a hand for you to shake – they’re rough, you notice, with calluses adorning the fingers –, probably just so you can introduce yourself too. “I’m Van,” she says. And that’s it.
She’s been Van since the beginning. Not Vanessa Palmer or the Yellowjackets goalkeeper, just Van. She says it so matter-of-factly that it would simply sound wrong to call her anything else.
You engage in a conversation about anything and everything after you introduce yourself – just your nickname too. You assume Nat already told her your name at some point yesterday – speaking as if you already knew each other, and somehow it doesn't feel weird.
Your eyes end up focusing on a black-haired girl crying at a table on the other side of the cafeteria with another girl a little smaller than her. You don't know either of them, but you know that they are both on the main team too.
“Hey,” you point with your chin: “What’s up with her?”
Van finds the source of your attention and raises her eyebrows, “Oh, you mean Mari?”
You answer with a simple nod of your head and that's enough for Van to invade your personal space with a devilish expression and a mischievous smile.
“She had a bad break up.” Van says and you tilt your head at her.
“But was it that bad?” You arch an eyebrow, “People don’t cry in such full places over nothing.”
Van moves a little closer to you and lowers her voice conspiratorially, as if she’s telling you a very important secret: “She were dumped," and then a dramatic pause, “For the guy’s half-sister.”
"What?" Your jaw drops completely and Van nods her head.
“Lottie told me, she knows about these things.” Ahe rests her face in her hand again, “She said she caught them kissing at her last party, Mari must have known.”
“‘The fuck?” The shocked look you give her only seems to amuse her.
“Oh, she's crying right now but boy, she was mad as hell in our math class today.” Van blows an exaggerated raspberry, “I bet she'll end up coming up with an absurd plan to get revenge and burn down his house just like in She Devil if the story spread.”
It will definitely spread, you thought.
An unexpected giggle escaped your chest – you might have felt a little bad for talking shit about a girl you didn't even know later, but not now – and your gaze found Van's face again.
“Yeah.” You start, “Except she was replaced by the guy’s own sister– half-sister, whatever, instead of a famous writer.”
Her face lights up completely as she speaks, bright green eyes like those of an excited puppy.
“You like that movie?” She asks.
“I love that movie,” you correct, “It’s iconic and Meryl Streep looks good.”
"She does.”
This seems to completely cement Van's interest in you, because she continues to sit with you at lunch for the rest of the week. When Nat finally shows up, she arches an eyebrow, but doesn't question it.
You and Van get closer in a surprisingly short period of time, but the way she seems to settle into your life is gradual and your silly little crush on the goalie seems to get stronger without even realizing it. Waiting for your lunches in the cafeteria, conversations in the hallways, glances exchanged during physics class – since you sat too far away to really talk – and the exchange of silly words about movies you like.
You have the habit of going out for a run every weekend in the morning – it's not easy to keep the best time in the routines, after all – and one day you decide to change your route by pure coincidence to a longer one that ends up near one of the trailer parks in the city; the fact that Nat mentioned one day that she’s neighbors with a certain teammate has nothing to do with it.
It surprises you that Van is awake at 8 am on a Saturday, but you find her – by pure coincidence, nothing more than that – outside a sad trailer watering an even sadder small garden. When she sees you, your hair is a mess and breathing is a little out of step, and you give her an awkward wave as you catch your breath. It's the first time you've seen each other outside of school.
“You’re stalking me now, weirdo?” Her crooked smile tells you that there's no real bite behind it.
"No," You place your hands on your hips, kicking some loose pebbles on the floor with your sneakers. Yes, you liar, “I always run around here, how come we’ve never seen each other before?”
Fuck it, you think. If Van can just show up for you because she wants to, then you can do the same.
She seems happy to abandon her garden chores when you ask her to go for a walk and she agrees to make you company once there’s no running involved; a walk, because no one deserves to be running around like Rocky Balboa at this time of the morning.
You walk together side by side through the neighborhood with your shoulders brushing against each other as if you've done this many times before, Van whistling a random tune carelessly.
Talking to her when the initial nervousness passes is one of the easiest things you've ever done and you find yourself enjoying and listening to everything Van tells you. This potential friendship – maybe more. Maybe, just maybe – it's the most fun thing that's happened in your year so far.
Your walks together also become a habit after that. You just come back the next day and Van is there with a smile on her face, so you keep coming back and she keeps smiling.
You also start walking home after school. Neither of you have a car, so why not?
You crave her company and she craves yours, you stay for Van's training and she stays for yours – no one else on the teams has the energy to complain about exaggerated movements or stumbles on tracks – and then when you're ready, you head off to your ways together and it makes your heart warm every time.
Everything about Van just makes you want to know her even more; the way she gestures with her arms and declares with the utmost disgust how she keeps distance from any musical that isn’t animated – “But you only watched Cats!” “And that was enough!” –, they way she tells you about how she and Taissa are watching Sabrina the Teenage Witch every Friday, or how she makes fun of any weird thing Misty said during practice that week.
You listen and absorb everything with an stupid drunk smile on your face, letting her entwine your arms and chatter to her heart's content.
Keep talking, you want to say. I love your voice, seeing you happy makes me happy. Keep talking, keep talking, keep talking.
You invite her to your house for the first time under the pretext of studying, after she throws herself on the chair next to you with a tearful expression during physics class.
“I’m gonna fail,” she whines, banging her head dramatically against the open notebook on the table, “The teacher hates me.”
You start teasingly: “Maybe he would hate you a little less if you actually paid attention in his class.”
"I do!" Van protests. “It’s personal, he must think I’m strange or somethin’ and lower my grades for it.” She crosses her arms with a pout and a roll of eyes.
“Of course." You agree with an exaggerated nod, “And you, yourself, are strange and unusual.”
“Yes!” She exclaims, ignoring the looks she attracts, “But that’s not the point, don’t quote Beetlejuice to me now, woman, this is serious.”
“Oh, wow, okay then.” You shrug.
Van looks at you before resting her head on the table again. She seems so hopeless that you give in.
“Hey, c’mon,” you say, letting your hand rest on her hair and stroke it gently: “You can come to my house today. I’ll help you study for the next test.”
Van's shoulders tense suddenly and her head snaps up so fast it makes you jump back.
"Really?" Her eyes are wide, face as red as her hair: “I wouldn’t want to bother you.”
That's strange. Van is usually the one who makes you nervous, not the other way around.
“You won’t bother me at all,” you reply without giving it much thought, “There won’t be anyone at home anyway.”
And then there's silence, Van's face turns impossibly redder and after a second of confusion, you understand.
You just invited Van to your house. Alone. There is an innuendo there. Several possibilities that neither of you will mention, but that you both know are there.
Your face starts to heat up, so you clear your throat and stutter a confused “Are you coming then?”, because you can't let her realize what you just thought about.
Van responds with a squeaky “Okay, sure." and hurries back to her usual seat when class finally begins.
When you adjust yourself in the chair and think about finally releasing the breath you didn't realize you were holding, your gaze finds Lottie Matthews staring at you three seats away with her eyebrows raised. Shit.
Lottie says nothing, just wrinkles her nose contemplatively and faces forward, but she knows. She always knows. You feel your hands sweat and shake with nervousness at the prospect of becoming the new school gossip like Mari last month. The queer who fell too hard for a Yellowjacket only to get it wrong and ruin everything.
You shake your head. No, Lottie wouldn't do that. You weren't exactly friends, but she’s not mean, there was no reason for her to mess with you, your thoughts were just talking too loud. Plus, it's not like she actually saw anything. You didn't do anything forbidden. Friends go to each other's houses all the time. Your crush is not obvious.
That's stupid, you think, it doesn't matter. But you don't really believe it. Yes, it matters, at least in this little town at the end of the world.
You just hope you don't end up crying in the cafeteria too.
There is no training that day, so as soon as classes are over, you leave school together and make your way home. For the first time, the silence is awkward and makes you feel bad for making the invitation the wrong way. Maybe Van just doesn't swing that way and you made her uncomfortable somehow. It's a possibility; you're not exactly in the closet to the rest of the school.
Still, the way her hand brushes against yours gives you hope that this isn't the case.
When Van enters your house, the first thing she does is look around.
“Wow,” she begins. “Its really…”
“Small?” You complete, feeling somewhat conscious. Your house wasn't a trailer, but it wasn't anything compared to the houses of Van's cool friends. Definitely nothing like Lottie or Jackie.
“Empty.” She corrects.
Huh. It's true, your house was praticly always empty, not only because your parents spent as much time as they could out of it, pretending they didn't have a kid to still take care of, but also because of the lack of furniture and personality. It didn't seem like a cozy place to a family live. As a whole, it could be really lonely most of the time. Van seems to have noticed this with a single glance.
You choose to ignore the comment, suddenly thinking that this might end up becoming too intimate. In a vulnerable way.
When Van enters your bedroom for the first time, she gives the place the same curious look as the rest of the house, but her jaw quickly drops.
“You got a TV in your room?” She sounds completely shocked.
“Yeah.” You snort in amusement, “My uncle runs an appliance store, he fixed one that no one picked up last summer, so now it’s mine.”
Van still looks very impressed as her eyes roam the rest of the room. Your bedroom was, perhaps, the only place in the house where someone actually seemed to live. Posters and photos adorned the colorful walls and it seemed like every little thing in the room was directly a part of you, from an old stuffed animal on one of the shelves to the small pile of messy clothes on the chair next to the study table because you weren't planning on receiving no one to remember to put it away.
The tension from before seems to be dissipating and you can see from the expression on her face the exact moment Van notices your small VHS collection up ahead.
“Okay. That's it. We're only hanging out here from now.”
And that awkward moment passes completely.
In a matter of minutes you both are comfortable in your bed with books and notebooks spread around, after convincing Van to start studying with the promise that she could choose whatever movie she wanted for you to watch when you were finished.
Van seems to dedicate herself twice as much, eager to fulfill the agreement and the hours pass quickly as she understands the concepts you explain about the subject and then all you have to do is say that it's time for a break for her to jump out of bed with a smile from ear to ear and choose a movie.
She puffs out her chest holding the tape in her hands and proudly declares that you're watching Jurassic Park and you don't even think to question it when you return the smile and takes on the task of making popcorn.
Van ends up leaning against you throughout the movie, reciting all the lines from memory along with the characters close to your ear – she knows all of them – and your heart remains racing with blood rushing in your ears until she leaves.
The two of you keep hanging out at your house again and again, just like she said it would be. Sometimes you study or watch something together, but most of the time Van simply keeps you company while you do your chores around the house, following you around like a puppy while you cook or do the laundry. Your home has never been so fulled or welcoming.
You go home after classes and practice – occasionally with Nat in tow – and stay together until it's late and dark, every now and then you say that she could just sleep over as a joke, but she never accepts it. You gulps the pang of sadness and rejection each time it happens.
And you guys talk a lot. You've never been so delighted to hear someone blab about anything.
Van spends days talking about how excited she is for summer while helping you chop the things for dinner. She and Natalie always get jobs together and she’s dying to buy a car – “You’re the runner here, lady, not me.” –, an old dark green pickup truck. She shows you the leaflet with a smile so proud that you don't have the courage to admit that you thought the thing was horrible; she tells you about how she wears the clothes of her older brother who apparently left town as soon as he finished school while helping you fold the freshly washed clothes, some of her own included.
It's so domestic that you wonder why this didn't happen sooner, depriving either of you of a routine together like this for so long seemed mean.
One night you’re sleeping soundly when you are startled awake by a loud knock on your window and you turn to find a face pressed against the glass. You almost have a heart attack.
“Jesus fucking Christ, Van!”
She's standing there with a pout and big eyes, pointing at the lock and you consider leaving her outside for the fright she got you. One look at the alarm clock on the table next to the bed tells you that it's already past 2:00 am.
“What are you doing here?” You ask, your voice rasp and tired from sleep, letting her come in, but only because you don't want her to get a cold outside.
Van sneaks into the room, suddenly shy, playing with the hem of the oversized t-shirt she's wearing and avoiding your eyes. She gives you an awkward smile.
“I was just wondering if we could have that sleepover today?”
She looks upset. Something happend. Something that upset her enough that she decided to run to your home in the middle of the night.
“Van,” your expression softened, worry flooding your voice, “Are you okay?”
“Yep.” She clicked her tongue, still not looking at you in the eye.
Okay, you won't get anything out of it then. Van likes to talk, but not when it comes to problems like this. Problems at home.
The thing is that you and Van have a lot in common, like your dubious sense of humor and your love for movies, but are opposites in many others; the main one: where your house is always empty, hers is always full. Full of people who take away the smile that you always try hard to keep on her face.
“Okay." You sigh, taking her hand and making your way to the messed bed, “Let’s get some sleep then.”
“Oh.” She looks even more embarrassed, her sweaty hand in yours, “I can take the couch or the floor. I didn’t mean to wake you, I’m sorry.”
You let out an outraged huff. “You run to my house, climb in through my window, ask me to have a sleepover and now you want to sleep on the floor?”
She drags her feet on the floor, “...Yeah?”
You choose to ignore her answer, practically dragging her over to the bed and making her lie down. When she does, Van moves to the other side of the mattress, clearly trying her best not to disturb you, but in a fit of courage and exhaustion, you wrap an arm around her and press her against your chest. She lets out a squeak of surprise at the action.
“Go to sleep, Van.” You mumble against the back of her neck, burying your face in her thick hair.
Her body is still tense against yours, but Van allows one hand to rest on the arm you keep around her waist.
You lose count of how long you spend lying awake in silence cohabiting in each other's space, but when you wake up in the morning, Van is still asleep, her hand never leaving your arm.
You guys don't talk about it and you never find out what really happened to make her feel so bad that day, but Van shows up more often to stay the night. She never tells you when she's coming and you get scared every time when you hear the knocking on the window – you swear she does it on purpose, that little smartass.
You realize that you really love her, not just as a silly high school crush, in the middle of a hot May. When Van makes you stand in the line at the cinema ticket office for two and a half hours and miss the day of school to get tickets to watch Jurassic Park - The Lost World. Because if you saw the first one together then you should see the second one too, obviously.
You're sure you wouldn't put yourself through this for anyone else – but don't let Natalie know that.
The whole situation feels a lot like a date and you try to ignore the anxiety that washes over you as you rummage through your closet for an outfit that you think is good enough for the night. The way Van's jaw drops when she looks at you when she meets you at the front door makes the effort completely worth it.
She spends the entire movie almost bouncing in her seat with excitement and swearing at the parts that don't make sense. Because apparently the movie is also really bad, even though she's so happy watching it, and you manage to be bold enough to hide your face on her shoulder during the “scary” parts and leave your head resting there until the end.
You're not proud at all to say you spent seven bucks on a squeezy dinosaur for her on the way back, but it's your senior year, damn it, let the girl have fun with her silly toy before college.
You go back home – ‘home’ you think now, not ‘your house’. Your home. Your home with Van. – with her ranting about special effects and scenes you don't remember because you spent more time looking at her than the screen and you end up on the balcony before you know it.
“That was so good.” Van is just inches away from you, looking at you with bright eyes full of happiness; your hands are sweaty, so you put them in your pockets so she doesn't notice.
“Yeah, it really was.” You return with a playful smile, “Even though you convinced me to spend hours under the sun for it.”
“Hey!” She protests, moving impossibly closer, “What would the experience be worth without a little effort, huh?”
“Sure.” You giggle.
She's so pretty, you think. Hair down and a black jacket draped over her shoulders, looking at you as if she actually saw you. Knows you. I want to kiss her.
“You had fun today?” Van asks, unable to avoid the small tone of doubt that escapes her voice.
I want you to kiss me, you think.
“Yes,” you answer instead, “Yes, I did.”
One night Van simply comes in through your window and you don't even react anymore, leaning into her body under the covers.
“You gotta stop coming in through my window,” you grumble.
“Then stop leaving it open,” she huffs, “Someone might break in, you know that?”
You can feel her smile against your neck and you're about to fall asleep again when you hear her voice whispering:
“You’re gonna go to my games, now that we actually have a chance to go to the nationals, right?”
“Of course,” you mumble with a comforting pat of her hand on your stomach, “I’ll be the first one in the stands cheering you on. You’ll be embarrassed of me.”
Van buries her face in your shoulder, “Good.”
You get sick the exact same week that her last game until the nationals happens, lamenting the stupid flu that left you feverish and stuck at home for days.
You can't go to school and Van can't come to see you because Coach Martinez has increased the training routine as the team advances in the championship. You assume it must be really tiring because Van doesn't show up at night either. It's embarrassing the way you can't sleep properly without her.
The worst of all: you lose Van's game.
You resign yourself to spending the afternoon on the couch brooding in remorse until you hear a knock on the door.
Coming across Van's sad face with her clearly trying not to cry was not what you expected when you opened the door, knowing for sure that you would only be greeted later – probably after a victory party – with excited screams and bright little dog eyes asking for help to pack her bags.
"We lost." She says, eyes glued on the carpet.
“Oh." You say stupidly, “Oh, dear.”
Your voice seems to turn a switch inside her, because Van lifts her head to you with her lips trembling and the next moment you two are on the couch with her practically sprawled on your lap and crying. Crying hard. You've never seen her like this before.
You hear something about Jackie hitting the post at the last moment as she sobs, but what seems to make her really upset are the balls she couldn't save during the game. Like it would’ve make difference.
Comforting was never really your strong suit, you can't say you're really upset that the Yellowjackets lost, the idea of having Van so far away from you even for a few days didn't please you at all. A bad feeling in your chest told you that something could go wrong.
“Well,” you run your fingers up and down her back, “You know one good thing about this? We can go to Homecoming now.”
Her breathing hitches, but if Van notices how you say 'we' instead of 'you' she doesn't say anything.
She's on your lap, nose close to yours, eyes swollen with tears but with the same look from that night at the movies, the one that makes your hands sweat and leaves your heart weak.
Unlike the movies, however, she kisses you. Like, she actually moves forward and kisses you.
Her lips are wet and soft against yours and you tilt your head to pursue them only for her to pull away with a panicked expression.
"I'm sorry!" Van exclaims, scooting toward the door as if her skin had burned: “I’m sorry! I– I shouldn’t– I’ll see you at school.”
And then she leaves. You don't even have time to react, she runs out the door and gets into that horrible pickup truck – which she had parked in the driveway for the first time less than two weeks ago, wanting to take you for a ride to celebrate the purchase – and you're left standing in the doorway like an idiot after the car disappears from your vision, as if you were waiting for her to come back – you were.
You don't see her at school for the rest of the week. She doesn't show up in class or practice and she certainly doesn't show up at your house, Van is avoiding you and it's so obvious that you feel like crying the entire time you're there, trying to catch a glimpse of her through the halls.
Fuck. You knew this would happen, that you would screw up and make the person you care about the most hate you.
You huff in frustration, letting your head fall against the table feeling someone's gaze on you, someone who isn't Van.
Lottie Matthews isn't skipping physics class, she has no reason to be, so you shouldn't have freaked out as much as you did when you looked up and saw her towering over you next to your desk.
“Shit–” You gasp, jumping back in your seat and almost hitting her chin.
Lottie tilts her head, completely unfazed, with a look of false innocence and curiosity on her face. The look of someone in search of an information.
The vision of Mari crying at the beginning of the year comes back to your mind and a shiver with a line of sweat runs down your spine. Oh no.
“Did you guys break up?” She asks and it's the last thing you expected.
“What?”
Lottie sits next to you, smoothing her skirt over her legs, completely at ease.
“Look, you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to,” she starts with an anxious air, “But please do 'cause I really want to know.”
"Know what?" God, your head is already hurting from this conversation.
Lottie seems to realize that your confusion is genuine, because she stops and frowns at you.
“Didn’t you and Van break up? I thought you were together.”
What the fuck?
"...No? We’re not?”
“Are you asking me?” Lottie arches an eyebrow, also confused.
"No." You clear your throat and roll your tense shoulders, “We’re not.”
“Oh,” she doesn’t seem to know what to say after that, strangely disappointed – just like you.
The period passes with the two of you in an awkward, resigned silence and as you're leaving, Lottie follows you down the halls, attracting glances as you pass by, which was the last thing you wanted at the moment.
“What now?” You sigh.
“I think you should talk to her and sort things out.” Lottie says, “She seems so sad lately, without her usual sparkle.”
You could understand where Lottie was coming from, seeing Van upset was truly heartbreaking, but you couldn't help the bitter pang in your chest. She ran away after the kiss, not you. The kiss she gave you.
“She’s hiding from me." You admit begrudgingly, “Where else could I talk to her, anyway?”
“In the Homecoming, of course!” Lottie nods at you sagely, as if couldn't be more obvious.
“Of course.” You agree, because, the hell, why not?
The Homecoming is on the weekend, the same weekend the team was supposed to be away for the nationals, which must be why the girls are there, to try and lift their spirits.
You recognize Jackie talking excited to Taissa about something near the tables at the back of the gym, next to a grumpy Shauna with a glass of punch in a hand and the other placed on her waist – in a definitely more then friendly way –, but no sign of of Van in sight.
You end up outside with Natalie, smoking against a wall, as always happen at every party you're at together. She's telling you about how she saw Jeff and Randy with a bottle of liquor before coming in and that they would probably baptize the punch, you both talked about ratting them out to one of the teachers in charge after sneaking a few cups and you probably would’ve done that if Lottie hadn't joined you – coming from who knows where – to ask for a cigarette too.
Nat joked about how it probably wasn't like the expensive brands she seemed to prefer at her parties, but she handed one over without a hitch and the three of you sat there, looking up at the dark and starry sky for a moment.
“You haven’t seen her yet?” Lottie breaks the silence, casually breathing in the smoke.
Nat looks at you sideways and all you do is shrug, not wanting to admit the defeat.
“You should try it near the stands.” She declares.
“What are you, a psychic or something?” You scoff, but go anyway because like Van said, Lottie knows about these things.
She is there. Of course she is. Sitting in the stands staring out at the empty field, wearing a light blue suit with a white shirt and a matching shiny tie that you have no idea where she could have gotten, because there's no way her mom would have let her buy it.
Van notices you approaching by the sound of your footsteps on the ground, her head turning to watch you and for a moment you're afraid she'll run away again.
She doesn't, so you approach, trying your best not to run towards her.
“I gotta quit smoking soon,” you say, stepping on the cigarette your hand was holding and making an overly dramatic effort to sit next to her with heavy breaths, “Or I’ll end up being kicked of track ‘till year is finished.”
Van snorts, “Right, Ponyboy Curtis.”
For a moment it's like anything hasn’t changed between you both, you bet that if you tried with conviction you could almost pretend that nothing had happened. Almost.
“You ran away from me." You say.
“I did.” Van lowers her head, quietly. Embarrassed. You’re not sure of what exacly.
"Why?" You ask, because that's the question that's been running through your mind for days.
“I–” Van looks away from you, “I thought you wouldn't want that.”
“And I thought you knew how much I wanted it." You say and Van lifts her head to stare at you with wide, hopefully eyes, “What do you want, Van?”
Her jaw drops and she looks like she was expecting everything but that, her hands twitch on her thighs, as if she wants to reach you.
“You look so beautiful right now." She sighs softly before steadying her voice, “You look so beautiful that I want to kiss you again.”
"Do it."
And she does, hard and desperate, crushing her nose against yours, as if she's hungry and can't get enough; you wrap your arms around her, hands touching her with the same need.
The lack of air is too much, so Van pulls away from you to immediately start distributing quick kisses down your neck, as if it could all disappear in a second, becoming confident when you tilt your head to grant her more access and only stopping after the hiss that you let go because she bites.
“So…” she laughs nervously, “What now?”
"Now?" You’re out of breath, “Well, can we go back inside and help Nat steal liquour to screw with Jeff and Randy or…”
"Or?" Van arches an eyebrow in amusement.
“We can go home and I can show you how much I missed you.” You shrug, casually tightening your hands on her waist.
“Hm,” she pretends to think about it, “I guess I like the first option better.”
Van laughs at the sound of your offended squeal and avoids the slap you try to give her shoulder.
“Careful, baby,” she intertwines your hand with hers, “I’m gonna start to think that you love me.”
“Oh, you better know that.”
You pull her by her stupid shiny tie and kiss her when she laughs again and let Van guide you to that hideous truck staggering laughing through the crowd of students.
Yeah, you think. I wouldn't have it any other way.
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goosewriting · 7 months ago
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One last chance III
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summary: third and final part to one last chance! the long awaited reunion :3 
relationship: Rise!Leo x gn!reader
warnings: mentions of blood
word count: 3.1k
A/N: at long last, here it is! since there’s a bunch of hopping between worlds, i added clarifications for when the story changes into another timeline (NY: new york aka main timeline / KR: krangpocalypse timeline / TR: triceraton world). that way you can differentiate if there’s an actual change of place or if it’s just a time skip! i really hope you like it :’) 
Navigation: Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 (you’re here!)
(english is not my first language. constructive criticism and grammar corrections are very appreciated!)
— — — 
The very next day, Leo and you gathered the other turtle brothers and Casey at the dinner table to tell them your plan. Mikey would have to open two more portals; one to get the older Leo from Casey’s timeline, and one portal to go place him in the Triceraton world with the other older you. 
You two watched as everyone processed your words, displaying different emotions in their faces. Your gaze fell on Mikey, who furrowed is brows, fidgeting with his fingers.
“I don’t know if I have it in me,” the youngest turtle admitted. Raph placed a comforting hand on his shoulder.
“It does sound dangerous,” the eldest said.
“I don’t even know how to find those dimensions again,” Mikey added.
“Just do the same thing you were doing last time,” you offered. “What were you thinking about when Leo fell through?”
Mikey scratched his chin as he thought it over.
“I don’t know, dino nuggets?”
“Makes sense,” Leo said with a serious nod. You playfully rolled your eyes.
“How will you find my timeline, though?” asked Casey. 
“With you, actually,” Donnie chimed in, bringing his hands in front of him with touching fingertips. “Your quantum signature should be unique enough to pinpoint it. I’ll build something to amplify Mikey’s powers.” 
“Sounds like we have a plan, then,” Leo concluded, placing his hands on the table and standing up. “Let’s get started.”
– – –
Mikey trained with smaller things first, making portals from one room to the other, and catching things mid-air and safely placing them on the ground. Meanwhile, you and Leo prepared a place where older Leo could stay. One portal already took a lot of effort; you didn’t really want to overexert Mikey and have him make two big ones, one right after the other. Also, future Leo might be hurt, so Raph helped you gather supplies for a little first aid kit as well.
The night before the big day, when Mikey would open the first portal, you were way too excited to sleep. You looked over at Leo, both of you in his bed, and it seemed he wasn’t feeling much differently, nervously tapping his fingers on his chest.
“It’s gonna work, right?” he asked in a low voice. 
“I think so, yeah,” you replied genuinely.
“Do you think I- he’ll be… mad?” You propped yourself up on your elbow at his question.
“You’re asking me? Shouldn’t you know better than anyone?” 
“Iunno,” he mumbled, and you gave him a sympathetic smile. 
“Well... If everyone you knew were gone, and you had the chance to spend more time with them, even if they’re technically a different version from another dimension, wouldn’t you want to see them?”
He thought it over for a moment. 
“I think so, yeah,” he replied.
“I know I’d want it too.”
For a moment, you two just looked at each other in the dim light of his room, then a giggle escaped you.
“What?” he asked with a suspicious smile. You sighed, lying back down properly and cuddling into his side.
“It’s like a tragic love story. Two star crossed lovers, promising to find each other in any universe.”
Leo took your hand, giving it a squeeze.
“I’d look for you in every universe,” he whispered. You hid face in the pillow with a groan.
“You’re so corny,” you laughed.
“And you love me for it.”
“Hmm, I do,” you said, stretching your neck to place a kiss on his cheek, then went back to getting comfortable.
Finally feeling a little more at ease, sleep slowly started to take over.
“I just hope he’s… still there,” Leo said so lowly you almost missed it. “The way Casey described the future, it was super bleak. I hope nothing happened to–”
“Shush,” you interrupted him, hugging his torso to reassure him. “It will work, I know it.”
“Hmm, yeah. It’ll work.”
With that, you both drifted off to sleep.
– – – [NY]
Donnie had built a hollow box of sorts, big enough to stand in it, with two wires coming out of either side. He put it on the floor, told Casey to step into it, and he activated it with his own nimpo, one wire connecting to Mikey, one to Donnie. The rest of you held onto Mikey’s arms like last time.
“It’s go time,” Donnie said with a wicked smile of sorts as the device started glowing.
– – – [KR]
Leo tried to hold back a pained groan between his pants. He looked at his leg; that’s a lot of blood. That krangified creature had got him good.
He tried getting back to his feet, but his leg gave out under him, and he was back on the ground, leaning onto the broken pieces of what used to be a building, sticking out from the dark sand that had taken over everything, transforming the urban landscape into a wasteland.
This is it, he thought, and bitterly smiled to himself. I’ve had a good run. Wish I had done some things differently, but…
Images of you flooded his mind, his brothers, Splinter, April, Casey… Ah, he really hoped the boy made it.
A  growling noise tore him out of his thoughts, and he saw the creature that had got him in this situation in the first place, approaching him slowly, about to pounce. With a deep exhale, Leo accepted his fate, finding no more fight left in him. He looked at the handle of his sword, now donning three coloured bands.
“Just get it over with!” he called out to the creature. Just as it was crouching down to build up its energy to jump, there was an all too familiar sizzling sound between him and the creature. 
Leo tiredly opened his eyes, and his brows rose in disbelief at what he was seeing. It was one of Mikey’s portals, moving towards him.
“What the—”
He got swept through the portal like a fish getting caught by a landing net. Gone was the coarse sand under him, replaced by something soft and warm and inviting. In front of him, figures he fully believed he’d never get to see again: his brothers, all alive; his younger self, looking at him with the same shock; Casey, and… you.
Mikey collapsed on the ground with a grunt. Raph picked him up and Donnie took them to his lab. Casey stepped out from his little box, which had deactivated the moment the portal disappeared.
“M-master Leonardo?” the boy asked in a mix of disbelief, surprise, and happiness. 
“Casey Junior,” the older Leo greeted him with a tired grin. “You made it.”
“Found the key, stopped the Krang,” Casey replied with the instructions his master had made him repeat back then. As his eyes started welling up with tears, Casey ran up to Leo and hugged him, which earned a groan of pain from the older turtle, but it turned into a chuckle. He hugged him back to the best of his abilities.
That’s when you noticed the turtle’s leg.
“O-oh my goodness, that looks very much not good,” you exclaimed, pointing at the wound covered in blood and debris.
“Yeesh,” younger Leo cringed after following your eyes.
You got to work cleaning up his wounds, disinfecting, and bandaging everything up. Older Leo was too exhausted to protest.
As the three of you were cleaning the grime off of hte turtle with a wet rag, you came to his right shoulder, and what you had thought was a giant glove, slid off slightly. So you took it off to be able to clean him better, except that instead of sliding the garment off his arm, the whole thing came off, leaving only a stubble reaching to just above where his elbow would be. Leo audibly gasped behind you.
“I- you- what happened to your arm?” Leo asked, turning to the boy on the patient’s other side. “Casey, you didn’t tell me I lost a whole arm!”
“There’s a lot I didn’t tell you, and it was for a reason–”
“Guys,” the older turtle interrupted.
Everyone got their attention back to the man on the pile of blankets.
“As much as I’m glad that you’re all okay, what am I doing here?” he questioned, his eyes jumping from Casey, to Leo, to you. 
“Don’t worry about it, just rest up,” Casey instructed.
“Yeah, we have a plan,” you added with a smile. “Just… get your energy back. We’ll explain everything later.”
He was too tired to argue, so he just let himself drift off into the welcoming embrace of sleep, and with a deep exhale, he passed out on the spot.
“Casey, stay with him,” you told the boy. “We’ll check on Mikey.” 
With a nod you instructed Leo to follow you, and you went to the lab, where you found Mikey on a makeshift cot. He was fine, also napping. Donnie assured you he just needed some rest. 
You all took turns for the next several hours to watch over the two; you caught pieces of conversations here and there, depending on whether older Leo was awake and whose turn it was to keep him company. But you tried not to eavesdrop, as you were sure he was telling them important but personal things. The one you were very curious about was the conversation older Leo had with Splinter. It seemed to be very emotional, but you kept your distance to give them some privacy. The boys’ father retired to his room for most of the day after they talked.
When it was your turn to take care of Leo, you brought some food and a change of bandages for his legs. 
“No one’s told me yet what’s going on,” he said after you handed him his food. “They told me it was your idea?”
You were kneeling next to him, and squirmed a little in your seat. 
“Are you sure you want to know now?” you asked, your gaze falling to your lap. “Don’t you want to recover a little more? You’re still in pretty rough shape–”
Leo interrupted you by calling your name. Your eyes darted back up to him and he raised a brow at you as he took a bite of the sandwich. You smiled to yourself. Some things really never change; that’s the same look young Leo would have given you in this situation.
With a sigh of defeat, you told him how after you had had your encounter in the alleyway, your timeline’s Leo had a similar one with an alternate older version of yourself, in a world where a different alien species had invaded Earth, but they were at peace now. Their Leo had died in the process, though.
“So,” you concluded after your retelling. “Leo and I, I mean my Leo, I mean…” You couldn’t help the heat creeping up to your cheeks, and the turtle gave you a knowing smirk. “Me and this world’s Leo; we thought we could help you guys out. You were left alone in a world that had no hope of being saved. And my other self is in a world worth living in, but is missing you. So, you know. 1+1=2 and here you are.”
Older Leo seemed genuinely surprised by your words. Whatever it was he had expected, this was not it. 
“I mean, you’re also free to stay here if you want to,” you offered, pointing over your shoulder. “There’s already Casey, so… I’m sure he’d like it if you stayed.”
“No can do,” Leo said with a sad smile, and you frowned. “I don’t really like the idea of playing with the timelines; my Donnie would have been vehemently against it.” He smiled nostalgically as he looked to the side for a second, then brought his attention back to you. “But in the end, he probably would have come to a similar conclusion. It’s obvious I’m not gonna ask you to bring me back to my timeline…. You were right on time, you know? A moment later and I would have been a goner.”
You gave him a worried look, but he dismissed it with a gesture of his hand.
“But,” he continued. “This isn’t my place to stay, either. I’ll take you up on your offer.” You perked up at that. “A different world at peace sounds pretty nice right about now.”
“From what Leo told me, everyone else seems to be alive there, you know,” you told him as you took out a fresh roll of gauzes from the supply box. “Raph, Mikey and Donnie. I’m sure they all miss you.”
Leo smiled, taking another bite of his sandwich as you started working on his leg. 
“And I miss them.”
“And I know it’s not the same because you won’t have the same memories and stuff–”
“Hey. It’s okay,” he calmed your doubts, holding your hand. “I appreciate it. Thank you.”
You merely gave him a nod, your heart racing at the gesture. His hand was so big, his whole presence made you feel so safe; you couldn’t wait to see your Leo keep growing and become the man you had in front of you now.
Not long after, when Mikey started feeling better, you all started preparing Leo’s departure.
– – – [TR]
You were taking your evening stroll through the park as you’d usually do. It had been raining all day though, and the cool wind seemed to make the droplets seep further into your clothes. As per usual, your feet brought you to the memorial statue by themselves, like they always did when you were lost in thought. 
Your grip tightened around your umbrella. It’s been so many years. Maybe it was time to finally let go. This grief was getting you nowhere. Leo wouldn’t want you to waste away like this just because he wasn’t there.
Standing in front of the statue, you let your eyes wander over it, looking at all the little details, discovering some new cracks in the rock. You did your best to keep it clean and all, but time, wind and rain seemed to chip away at it, no matter your efforts. Kind of like you felt, too, you concluded with a defeated sigh. 
Bringing your gaze back to the turtle’s heroic face expression, you tilted your head lightly. Just what were you supposed to do now?
– – – [NY]
Everyone got into position just like for the other portal, but you stayed back this time. You were facing away from where the yellow ring of light would open, as you didn’t want to see your older self.
“You sure you don’t want to see?” Leo asked. “The dinos looked pretty cool?” You chuckled.
“Nah, it’s okay,” you answered, looking up at him with a smile. “I don’t need to see other worlds, I have everything I need right here.”
You placed a quick kiss to the corner of his mouth. The turtle wasn’t able to reciprocate, but blushed as he spotted his older self a couple of steps away, giving him a thumbs up. 
– – – [TR]
You took one last look at the statue, some droplets hitting your face in the wind, which was starting to pick up. Just as you meant to turn around to leave, you heard some zaps behind you.
Just like last time, a flurry of yellow lights materialised out of nowhere over the gravel path of the park, expanding and clearing up until you could see through it. Young Leo hopped into your world, calling out to you with relief, as it meant he didn’t have to go look for you.
“I’m so glad you’re here!” he said as he jogged the short distance to where you stood.
“Wha- You’re back?” You were shocked to your bones, as you really thought you would never get to see any Leo ever again. “Why? How?”
“Doesn’t matter, I won’t be long either,” Leo informed you, taking your hand that you had stretched out to him. “I just came to say hi and bring you a gift.”
He let go and stepped aside. From behind him, another figure stepped through the portal. Your hand came to your mouth as you gasped, your umbrella dropping to the ground. 
Mikey groaned from the effort, the glowing yellow cracks expanding further over his arms.
“Hurry it up, guys!” Raph called from the other side of the portal. “Mikey can’t hold it open much longer!”
Turning to you, younger Leo held your hands one last time, and you dragged your eyes from one blue clad turtle to the younger one. 
“Give him the happy ending you both deserved, alright?” he asked, and giving you and older Leo one last hug, he hurried back to the portal, which started becoming more unstable by the second, the zaps threatening to collapse any moment now.
And not a second too soon, younger Leo left the scene, the portal closing right behind him with a loud crackle. 
Leo and you were left alone in the rain, looking at each other and just taking each other in.
“Hey,” Leo spoke first, taking a couple of steps in your direction.
“... Hi,“ you greeted him, your voice almost inaudible, as you looked him up and down repeatedly in disbelief. 
“The kids had a crazy idea and… it worked.”
You let out a shuddering breath, looking at your hands, opening and closing them in an attempt to ground yourself. 
“What timeline are you from?” you finally asked. Leo had to take a moment to think how to even answer that.
“The bad ending, I guess?” he settled on. “One where the world ended. I lost everything.”
He looked up at the statue of himself and smiled.
“This one didn’t lose an arm though, huh.” 
His attempt at lightening the mood was short-lived, as the small smile that had formed on your face disappeared just as quickly.
“No, but he lost everything, too,” you said, your hands clenching into fists as you dragged your eyes back up to meet his warm ones.
“You think I can fill the vacant spot he left open for this world’s coolest Leonardo?”
You couldn’t help but snort this time. 
“Yeah,” you offered, relaxing visibly. “I think he’d be okay with that.”
Leo finally approached you, carefully stroking over your cheek with the back of his hand, and you leaned into the touch. The rain hitting your face mixed with your tears.
“Okaerinasai,” you welcomed him back home as you placed your hand over his. He leaned down to touch his forehead to yours.
“Tadaima.”
— — —
Bonus:
“You think they’ll be okay?” you asked Leo after the portal closed.
“You said it yourself,” he said, placing his arm over your shoulder. “Star crossed lovers: they’ll always find back to each other because they belong together.”
~~~~~
🐥 taglist: [link to join in my pinned post!] @theoriginalmintyyyshake, @DyByNyght, @Lieutenantlashfaz, @galaxtic-writings, @Lovestruckfictionadict, @salty-s-r, @sleebykei, @miso-sopas, @duckanon, @wings-of-sapphire, @ashtheboookworm2, @xxnoxx, @crystal-crax, @lunaramune
also tagging the people in the comments in the second part who wanted to see a reunion! feel free to ignore 🙈
@koalaray, @catr4dora, @mialettt, @flowerloves, @franbowidk, @warrior-girl, @nessarolla-in-constant-flux, @crystal-crax, @kitkattzz
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mila-mi-mi · 2 months ago
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The sniper and the stars
I don’t know where I heard this first. The saying that people turn into stars once they die. It technically isn’t real but it nonetheless is a comforting thought to feel like they’re there. That the sky isn’t just some empty vast space. I kinda wanted to capture that but I don’t feel like I’ve done it too right. It’s up to you to decide that.
> also English not my first language so accents in writing are still hard for me to understand. Since well English is my third language.
Groetjes 🤍
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talenlee · 8 months ago
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Goblin, Vandal, Sugg
Every word you’ve ever used comes from somewhere. The structures you use to discuss ideas is informed by ideas that came before it. I’m not getting all Sapir-Worf about this (and if you don’t know what that is, you don’t have to know because it’s probably not true), but rather wanting to draw your attention to the way the world you live in is in part defined by the words you use. If you’re an English speaker, there are ways you describe food that are a byproduct of French invasion centuries ago. Words like ‘technocrat’ and ‘hyperspecialised’ are constructions that borrow from how intellectuals used to use Latin. Your swear words are almost all from the poor working class, and used to describe sex, god, or excrement, and that’s not how all swear words work in all cultures!
Your world shapes your language.
In any given fantasy setting you work on, you don’t usually have the same linguistic history to justify why the people there talk like we talk now. In fact, to be completely fair, they probably don’t talk like us at all: you have fantasy languages, across fantasy constructions. Any given phrase a character in your world says is probably not using the exact same words as we are and we’re all working with a sort of fictionalised fantasy that makes the concepts reasonably translate across.
There’s a whole treatise then about how we handle Native American names and loanwords that we italicise like etouffee.
Point is that you have words, in your world, and you can attach stories to them. You’ve probably seen me talk about Orcs and how they relate to language and stereotypes, along in my long post on the word ‘Orc’. Here’s another set of examples I like for my world of Cobrin’Seil, as they pertain to the best little evolved raccoons, the Goblins.
The word ‘Goblin’
In Cobrin’Seil, most people speak two languages. Most people who speak only one language speak Common, and Common is full of loanwords from other languages. ‘Orc’ and ‘Beast’ are well known loanwords. There is a word that has risen in prominence throughout all the common-speaking countries in less than seventy years, and the word it displaced is still even in functional and legal use.
The word is both new and old; new to common, but an old word to the language it’s from. This word is Goblin.
Goblins are by no means new. They’re one of the three great old cultures of the world, a social symbiote culture that pretty much exists in any given settlement of any size. It’s usually seen as a sign of health that a community can sustain Goblins — in the same way that communities that lack pets are probably culturally alienated from all the cultures that do keep pets — and if you encounter an enclave that lacks goblins, it’s often because that enclave is specifically for a purpose and has done proactive things to drive out Goblin presence. Goblins are a culture that’s as old as Orcs, older than Ogres and even most of what you’d consider modern-day Elves.
But the word Goblin was not a word in common language and descriptors that was used in dictionaries and education and technical words, until what are known as the Peoples Reform. Not People’s Reforms – but the legal system of the Eresh Protectorate (which tends to set precedents most of the rest of the world follows) formalised the idea of Peoples. For most cultures, this didn’t make a lot of changes, but it did peel out of the laws one of the largest and long-standing carve-outs for Goblins that eroded the idea of their own cultural identity and heritage. The word Goblin is encoded as the term Goblins use to describe Goblins.
Linguistically, Goblin is a funny word. It’s an omniterm; without modification, it serves as noun, pronoun, verb, adjective, adverb and preposition and it does so in entirely intelligible ways to those contextually familiar. The sentence ‘Goblin goblin goblin goblin goblin’ is a meaningful sentence describing a party taking care of a third party because they see the commonality they have with one another. Good luck making that make sense in a sent letter though.
Goblin is possessive; in a lot of ways it can be translated to the common term ‘us,’ with some wiggle room. It’s also a comical non-answer; guards asking a Goblin ‘what are you doing?’ will often get the answer ‘goblin,’ which in this case means something like ‘being myself and doing what I should be doing,’ which is an answer but it is also unhelpful, and you have to understand how goblins communicate to get a handle on what that might mean. Goblin language is simple but contextual and it tends to highlight that goblins are extremely prosocial. Goblin language makes very little sense without the context of who is talking and about what.
There’s a real truth to the fact that many Goblins who have taken to theatre or art will write dialogue in Goblin but stage directions in Common.
But the word is new, legally, but the people aren’t. What was the change? Well, prior to the Peoples Reforms, the term the human kingdoms used for the people known as Goblins was the term Vandal.
The Word ‘Vandal’
You can’t kidnap a Goblin.
Legally, I mean.
This isn’t because Goblins were protected under the law, no no, the laws were way too racist for that. The crime was that, wherever you transported the Goblins to, the people didn’t want Goblins there, so you were committing a crime by inflicting Goblins on them. Basically, it was considered a crime to take a Goblin from one place to another, because the place the Goblin arrived didn’t necessarily consent to the presence of a Goblin.
The term for transporting a Goblin was based on an archaic term for Goblins that operated on the assumptions that Goblins were just a problem and a pest brought into any space. They were known as Vandals, a term hypothetically meaning all nonhuman troublesome cultures including Gnolls and Bugbears, because if those people arrived in a place, they’d wreck things. Funnily enough, Gnolls and Bugbears got removed from this term over time because they would usually, if it rose to legal levels, be committing much more dire crimes, and also, guards didn’t like just bullying them at random, since they were very big and tough people by comparison to the much smaller Goblin. Over time, ‘Vandal’ came to mean ‘Goblins, and behaving like a Goblin,’ and that association meant the legal term got ensnared around it. Ultimately, dropping Goblins off in a space that did not want them was the act of Vandalism. Vandal then, was a term used to not to refer to the Goblins themselves; much funnier, instead, it was the legal term for a person who committed the crime of nonconsensual transporting of Goblins.
During the Peoples Reforms, since this law already existed, the crime of Transporting A Goblin Nonconsensually remained on the books, but Kidnapping, as defined under laws, had its historical Goblin Carve-Out. Nowadays, kidnapping a Goblin is typically treated as Vandalism (Kidnapping), because tidying up old and technically incorrect laws is a lot of a pain in the butt. This even applies when the Goblins are lawyers, who as it turns out, delight in getting non-Goblins in trouble for ‘Vandalism,’ which is a catch-all term under Eresh law for ‘general goblin-like behaviour.’ And we’ll talk more about what makes something Goblin-like in the context of Cobrin’Seil another time.
The word ‘Sugg’
But there is a word, ambiguous in meaning and origin that exists in common, that most people know and that word is ‘sugg.’ It seems to indicate a sort of laziness, a restful state. If you see a Goblin curled up on a pile of playing cards, ears out, eyes closed, you might say ‘can’t use those cards, there’s a goblin sugging on it.’ Or ‘sorry man, I’m pretty sugg.’ The word is extremely ambiguous but it has a thread throughout it of being:
Indulgently lazy
Very relaxed
Overwhelming and absolute
The thing is, nobody’s too sure what it means, and when you ask people who would know, they tell you to ask a Goblin. Goblins, after all, are where the word comes from. In fact, if you ask the right goblins in the right trail you’ll find that while Goblins use the word ‘sugg’ in the same way, they think it comes from Common. Why?
Because Goblins got the word from this thing they found in established human communities. There’d be a nice small dark box, full of paper that you could just curl up in and nest in, and on the outside of the box, there’d be a notice: SUGGEST IN BOX. So they assume the Goblin who enjoys that box the most must surely be their sugg-est Goblin. Which meant paying attention to how they all sugg, and from there, the neologism was born.
Now, non-Goblins and Goblins alike use ‘sugg’, each convinced they got it from the other.
Check it out on PRESS.exe to see it with images and links!
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somanywips · 2 months ago
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Silly headcanons I have for Sanji and other strawhats:
Sanji has Terrible handwriting. He writes solely in cursive and he writes as if he has milk on the stove (aka really fucking fast) so his handwriting is almost unreadable. Robin is the only one who can read it, mostly because her own handwriting also fucking sucks.
Nami has the prettiest handwriting you've ever seen, but she writes So Fucking Slow and that's because she draws her letters.
Ussop's favorite art media is actually gouache paint, but he doesn't use them much because the humidity made them basically melt so he mostly uses acrylics and oil paints, as well as pastels.
Everyone has touch related sensory issues, with the exception of Franky. However, most foods just have really icky texture to him, and he didn't manage to fix it when he became a cyborg, but he's always down to work with Sanji to try out new foods so his diet isn't just burgers and cola.
Zoro is, for whatever reason, really good at embroidery. Like, he can make really intricate stuff but usually gets bored halfway through and goes back to training. It comes in handy when he's injured tho!
Sanji has this really really thick North Blue accent (either Spanish or Polish) when he's just woken up and not even because He's originally from the North, but because Zeff is, and Zeff has the heaviest accent in the world. It's kinda funny cause his accent sounds Nothing like the one from Germa (French)
Robin's the one who speaks the most languages out of all the Strawhats, having a good understanding of about 10 different languages and being fluent in other 6. Nami and Sanji tie in second place being fluent in four languages each, English, German, Polish and the common language in OP (aka Japanese) for Nami and French, Spanish (from Spain), Portuguese (from Angola) and the common language for Sanji, Franky's in third with 3 languages (English, Spanish [mexican]) with the other members only knowing 2 (Yoruba for Ussop, Russian for Chopper, Portuguese [Brazilian] for Luffy, Korean for Zoro, German for Brook and Swahili for Jimbe, all of them speak the common Japanese as well).
Zoro helps Nami with the accounting of the ship. They're both scarily good at maths (not even like basic maths, no, they both be doing integrals and shit). Ussop and Franky are also very good at it, but on a more practical sense, Franky is also really good at physics, while Ussop should be getting a masters in chemistry. Chopper is obviously very good at biology and (organic) chemistry.
Sanji is Not good at maths. He knows the basics, enough to do what he need to do, but put anything more than a simple equation (the ax+b one) and he's gone -> he actually didn't get any formal education besides the one from Germa, but he couldn't keep up with his brothers (aka they were teaching a toddler in the same pace they would adults, and the Vinsmoke children are basically copy machines) and his time in the rock severely impacted his development. Zeff taught him what he could, but he himself also didn't get any formal education. They both never really needed it, so it wasn't really an issue. They both know a Lot about nutrition and anatomy, tho (they just don't use technical terms).
Nami also didn't have any formal education, but she taught herself a lot of things from books and sheer stubbornness. All her knowledge of climate, weather patterns, and navigation are 100% self-taught
Sanji is a walking fish encyclopedia
Zoro is a walking Sword encyclopedia
Ussop can solve rubiks cubes in less than 1 minute and refuses to tell Luffy and Chopper how he does it
Luffy has a really good nose, he can pick out individual smells really easily so he always knows when Sanji bought more meat and what kind of meat he bought
Robin is Really bad at dancing, like really really bad, but she makes up for it with enthusiasm
Okay that's it for now kswkoqql. I have a lot more, especially for Sanji but that's because he's my wife
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iwillbringyouruin · 1 year ago
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Radskier dialogue nuances in different languages
So I have been rewatching The Witcher in French recently and some of the changed lines stuck out to me, in the interactions between Radovid and Jaskier in particular. So i figured I'd compile my favourites from the translated versions I've seen so far here and compare their meaning to the original. I've also included some of the German lines since I'm German and I got curious!
Disclaimer: I'm just a guy who speaks a bunch of languages, don't expect overly technical linguistic wizardry here. Also this is not about the voice actors' skill or how well the lines are matched up to lip movements, strictly about the little changes in meaning when you take the translations literally! All meant to be in good fun.
Since this is about the season 3 dialogue, there are spoilers ahead.
This is going to be a long post so buckle up!
Season 3 in general: The way Jaskier and Radovid address one another
English (original): both use "you" which makes sense of course
French: Jaskier uses "vous" (the formal "you") for Radovid and Radovid uses "tu" (the casual "you") for Jaskier until they have sex in episode 4. When they talk the morning after in episode 6, they're both using "tu".
German: both use "Ihr" and the other formal derivatives for one another throughout (Even Geralt and Jaskier address each other formally the whole time. I'm not a fan)
Episode 1: Jaskier and Radovid meet
The dialogue here is generally very close, just two little things between the original and the German version I want to point out.
English (Jaskier): Fuck, I don’t really know what I’m supposed to… Bow? Or curtsy, or… I’ve been holding your hand a long time, so sorry about that.
German (Jaskier): Shit, I don't know if I'm supposed to bow or be polite... I've been holding your hand for too long, forgive me ("bow or be polite"?? HUH?)
English (Radovid): If your time at court’s been staid, you’ve been doing it wrong
German (Radovid): If your time at court has been too calm/quiet, something went wrong ([gay silence])
Episode 2: specifically Extraordinary Things
I've put the different lyrics as rather direct translations in the pictures below. They're also written out in the alt text. The French ones are a little more pointed compared to the original imo, I like that version a lot. I'm not sure how I feel about the German version but the first line did make me giggle.
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Episode 3: Jaskier talks to Vespula about Radovid
I love this scene for many reasons. I have two things to point out about this.
The first thing is that while in the English and French version, Jaskier says that he and Radovid have only met twice, in the German version he says that he and Radovid don't even know each other.
The second thing is that in the English and German version, Jaskier calls Radovid a spoon and he does in the French version as well. However, he specifies Radovid is a "little spoon" here. Need I say more?
Episode 4: the scene in the shed
Ah, the scene of all time. Before the other scene of all time in episode 6. A few things about this one. The first thing is a very small change in the French version:
English (Jaskier, after Radovid admits he's scared): Just saying that makes you braver than you know.
French (Jaskier, after Radovid admits he's scared): The fact you're admitting that proves you are brave
The second thing bothered me more because it isn't really a subtle change. Both in English and French, Jaskier says Radovid has "learned [his] song", but in German he says Radovid "knows [his] song". The German line here isn't saying that Radovid "knows" the song as in he knows how to play it (from hearing and watching Jaskier play it for him once, mind you), the way it's said makes it sound like Radovid has just heard the song before.
The third thing is what they're saying right after the kiss. Unfortunately with the slightly changed lines for Jaskier we don't get the clever connection between Jaskier talking about taking Radovid into the cabin and Radovid asking Jaskier to take him (sexually).
English (Jaskier): I can't take you inside, I'm sorry.
English (Radovid): Then take me here.
French (Jaskier): The cabin is occupied, I'm sorry.
French (Radovid): Then take me here.
German (Jaskier): We can't go inside, I'm sorry.
German (Radovid): Then take me here.
Episode 6: the morning after
The German version is the same as the original here.
English (Jaskier to Radovid): I thought I’d seen through your mask. Turns out there was nothing behind it.
French (Jaskier to Radovid): I thought I had lifted the veil from your soul. But I found nothing but darkness beneath that façade
The subtle differences in the French version on the other hand not only make the pain a little different, it also includes an allusion of sorts to that version of Extraordinary Things with Jaskier talking about Radovid's soul. At least that's how I saw it. Ouch!
Episode 7: the moment where Jaskier finds Radovid at Thanedd
All three versions here make me want to cry. That's all.
English (Radovid): Just let me be there with you. Prove that I’m more than a mask.
English (Jaskier): Maybe.
French (Radovid): Just let me stay with you and show you what is beneath this façade.
French (Jaskier): Why not.
German (Radovid): Just let me be with you and show my true self.
German (Jaskier): Maybe.
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balrogballs · 4 days ago
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I apologise if this is too personal (and feel free to simply delete this ask) but if you had an Abiball, I am assuming you don't live in an English speaking country - if you (still?) don't, how did you get published in the English publishing market? Did you write in English (is it your first language or second?) and did you query as a citizen of a country that is not the UK, US, Canada or Australia? I would be interested in knowing Everything but if none of this applies. Then sorry for assuming.
Absolutely no problem, always happy to answer questions re: querying/publishing as I didn't have a creative background prior to publishing so it was a very chaotic field to navigate!
So yup, English is technically my third language and I grew up mostly in a German speaking environment and went to German schools hence Abiball haha, but I've had quite a lot of exposure to English since I was young plus moved to the UK for university :)
I do exclusively write in English, and amusingly I actually write rather badly in German, in creative writing terms, as my degrees were all in UK unis. Plus my subject matter is more geared towards the Anglophone market, although my first book currently has a first translation rights deal for German as well.
Re: querying, I exclusively queried in the UK as a non-citizen resident. Agents in the UK are generally happy for EU/Commonwealth citizens to query — this may be different by genre, but with literary fiction everyone I queried was fine with me technically being a foreign national, especially as book was geared towards the English speaking market :)
Hope this helps!
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lazypeachsoul · 2 years ago
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Like I've known you forever.
Summary: Sometimes traumatic events make you realise how deeply you love someone or a collection of moments and memories of love after the birdstrike.
Pairing: Robert 'Bob' Floyd x F!Reader
Word Count: 3k.
Rating: No warnings per se but the events are a bit sad because it's after the birdstrike, hospitals, mentions of painkillers, ilnesses.
A/N: Normal is current events, Italics are memories. Inspired by one of my favourite movies and I thought the quote fit Bob so well. As always, english is not my first language so sorry for any mistakes. And enjoy.
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Days off were a sort of myth for your little two person —one cat— household. The sort of myth you grew weary of fully enjoying because at any moment a call could end your boyfriend’s off time. But you enjoyed nonetheless because any minute you got together you cherished. But this time it was different. This time the house felt tense and cold, nothing to do with the bright and home-y feeling of mornings spent watching a show and laughing together. This time you were trying to fold for the third time the couch blanket while keeping your ears open for any sounds coming from the bedroom.
He was okay —that’s what he had said—, just needed to sleep off the tension —also his words— and spend some time with you —brown noser—. According to the doctors he had a bruised rib and you should look out for possible neck or back pain caused by falling a few thousand feet at high speed. Look out for that while being grateful that it was only pain and not a spinal break. Damn it, there go the tears again. Walking towards the living-room window, unfolded blanket still in your hand, you realised how late it had gotten. The day was winding down to and end in a mix of oranges and yellows while you wrung out the fabric between your hands.
Your mind couldn’t stop replaying the events of the last 48 hours.
Your mind couldn’t stop replaying the events of the last 48 hours.
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You were in the middle of what your boss had warned you was a very important meeting for the company, a potential new big shot client. Robert knew and had wished you the best of luck before he left for work looking like a dream in his ironed uniform and his recently gelled hair. So when your phone started vibrating against your desk you frowned, knowing very few calls would have gone through in Do Not Disturb mode. In fact, it could only be one of four people: Robert, his mom, your mom or Maverick.
Fully ready to see Bob’s contact picture you almost had to do a double check when you saw it was actually Maverick calling.The voice of your boss speaking through the laptop became nothing but background noise while you tried to reason why Maverick would be calling you. Your gut told you to answer quickly and it spoke so loud you pressed the green button before you could properly excuse yourself from the meeting. And soon it became apparent you weren’t the only one feeling the urgency.
“Maverick?” Was the only word you could muster, your overthinking brain always negative.
“Hey, I’m sorry to call you.” Oh well, that wasn’t a good start to the conversation. “Bob and Phoenix had some difficulties during today’s training-”
“Difficulties? That sounds-” “Worse than it really is, don’t worry. They are being rescued as we speak-”
“Rescued!?” You asked raising your voice, probably an effect of the fear and that run through your veins. If the word difficulties made your heart skip a beat the word rescued restarted it completely. You could feel the adrenaline starting to flow through your veins, suddenly feeling cold and warm at the same time.
“Sorry, it’s technical talk I didn’t want to scare you. I know how hard a call like this is.” Did he? But even if he didn’t a part of your mind thanked the excuse. “The team said they looked in okay shape and are being brought to the base hospital for a check up. I wanted to call you before you received a call from the hospital, thought it would be less intimidating.” Had you been in your right mind you would have almost laughed at his sheepish voice. “Although I don’t seem to be doing it very well.”
A ping sounded through the speakers of the laptop and a chat notification from the video call system appeared. A private message from your boss. Everything okay? You look pale from that call. You knew there was more than worry written in the message, probably a reprimand about taking private calls during a meeting. But your mind at the moment only seemed to care about how injured you needed to be to be considered in ‘okay shape’. Okay?
“Are you still there? I know the news are unexpected-”
“Yeah, I’m still here.” At least you thought you were, even if you couldn’t stop picturing horrible scenarios involving a jet plane, your boyfriend and your best friend. “I should go to the hospital right?”
You probably sounded like a horrible girlfriend, the worst. But nobody ever takes the time to explain the protocol for technical difficulties resulting in the need of a rescue and hospital checkup.
“Are you okay to drive? You sound shocked. Don’t want you distracted on the wheel.”
You looked at the message from your boss and managed to type a few words: Bob was in accident. Grammar be damned. And as soon as you sent the message all the adrenaline that up until this point had been building in your body exploded. The laptop slammed shut while you muttered “See you there” to Maverick on the phone, picking up what your amped up brain considered essentials before you run to the car.
A movement outside the window snapped you from your painful memories, a bird flying to find refuge before the day became night. Birds. At one point when you were a child you wanted to be like them, flying looked to be the most freeing experience. And when you met Bob you realised that maybe your interest in flying was a happy coincidence. One of life’s funny foreshadowing moments. Birdstrike, that’s what the ha told you.
“How can something as small as a bird win against millions of dollars of military technology?” You mumbled against Bob’s neck almost without realising. The question had been in your head since Maverick tried to explain to you the situation in the waiting room.
Bob couldn’t help but let out a wheezy laugh, wanting to groan at the pain in his chest but fighting against it fearing you might remove yourself from his arms. “Isn’t it incredible? Best pilots in the US navy and a pidgeon knocked us out.” You lifted your head and looked at him with a raised brow. “Okay, maybe not incredible. Bad wording. It’s surprising.” He rectified with a small smile.
Silence, or as much silence as possible in a hospital full with beeping machines, surrounded you when you kissed his temple before pressing your forehead against it. The adrenaline rush fizzled into tiredness, but every time you closed your eyes horrible images conjured by your imagination plagued you. “I love you.” You heard him muster and you smiled. “Thank you for being here.”
It broke your heart to think how he might be feeling. You were suffering the effects of not knowing, but he probably was feeling the effects of knowing exactly what could’ve happened and didn’t. “Nowhere else I would rather be, bub.” You muttered close to his ear, not wanting to disturbe the atmosphere created in the room. “Well, maybe home without the scare. But always with you.”
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“Something interesting going on with the neighbours?” Spoke behind you the same voice you had been daydreaming about, making you jump in your place.
“What are you doing out of bed? You are supposed to be on complete bed rest!” You turned to walk his way. But he quickly stopped you with a raised hand and a bright smile.
While he walked towards the window you took your time to check him out to see potential damage -what would spine damage look like? The doctor didn’t explain that part-. But you could only see his unruly hair, blonde curl falling against his forehead, and his crooked glasses. His cheeks were rosy, more than likely result of the painkillers and the deep sleep, and his eyes had recuperated the shine they lacked after a night in hospital. His wrinkly pijamas only adding to his relaxed image. Definitely not the image of someone who had fallen out of a plane at 50 feet per second 48 hours earlier. Once he was within reach he took the blanket from your hands and draped it over your shoulders before pulling you close to him with it.
“Okay mother hen.” He spoke softly, almost as if scared that any sound louder would spook you. “I think it’s more dangerous if I lie all day, blood clots from lack of movement are a real risk.” Damn, should you be looking out for that too? The doctor hadn’t said anything. Almost as if he could read your thoughts he pressed his lips to your forehead. “Stop. I’m okay.”
You wanted to say that he wasn’t. Wanted to recite the statistics for the results of jet plane ejections you had googled while in the waiting room. To repeat the diagnosis the doctor had made. But that wouldn’t have been good for either of you. You raised on your tip toes, pressing a chaste kiss against his lips that meant only three things: sorry, I love you and I’m still taking care of you.
“I am probably overbearing. I’m sure you would prefer to be in that hospital room again.” You joked, a probably too morbid joke that he seemed to get thankfully.
“Ah yes, nothing like the smell of disinfectant and sickness to feel better. Definitely, tender love and care from my favourite girl doesn’t even come close.”
His favourite girl, how you loved to hear him say it.
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Deep breath in, deep breath out. Maybe the disinfectant in the air could clean your system of the icky feeling the wait had left you in. You looked at the plaque on the door and triple checked this was the right room. It was. You also justified the minutes you had already spent in front of the door without moving because you could hear voices inside the room talking. Deep breath in and you raised your hand to knock and the door opened quickly, knocking the air out of your lungs.
“Oh, Lieutenant. It looks like you have your first visitor.” The man in scrubs and a white coat exclaimed with too much enthusiasm for a hospital. “Please come in, I’m already done. I’m guessing you are his next of kin?”
You nodded while walking inside, not daring to look up yet.
“She’s my favourite girl, doctor.” Bob’s voice spoke up, but that wasn’t a very Bob-like phrase. Always prefering privacy over ostentatious declarations.
You looked up then, deep breaths be damned, and you realised nothing could have prepared you to see the man you loved so deeply laying in a hospital bed and hooked to different machines. Now you understood what Maverick meant with ‘okay shape’. Bob looked okay except for a few scratches and an ugly bruise in his cheekbone, but not even his loopy smile could make you stop worrying.
“Hi baby.” He said his a slight slurred voice that made your heart clench. He tried to raise his arm to wave you but dropped it a groan.
“Nice to meet you, I’m doctor Stevens.” You gave him your name with a tense smile, not wanting to remove your eyes from your boyfriend face for too long, as if he might disappear. “All his tests came back okay, only a bruised rib. But they probably already told you that.” You nodded, they had informed you while you were waiting. “He’s under the effects of the painkillers, so don’t worry if he’s a bit out of it.”
The doctor probably wanted to speak more to you, talk about tests and x-rays. But nothing in that moment meant to you more than the man laying in the bed with a smile too big to be natural. Sensing the disconnect, the doctor quickly said his goodbyes and moved towards the door. Walking towards the bed you couldn’t help to ask.
“Doctor, is Phoenix okay?” Seeing Bob had relaxed your nerves a little, but the same worry kept circling your head. And you knew even under the haze of the painkillers Bob would want to know too.
“Lieutenant Trace appears to be in as good shape as one could be in this situation. They were both incredibly lucky.”
Lucky. Your lucky best friend. Your lucky boy.
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“What was so interesting? You spent quite some time looking out the window.” He repeated his first question and you turned in his arms to look out the window again. Pressing your back against his chest -carefully because of the injury- you sighed contentedly when his arms wrapped around you.
“Nothing. It’s peaceful out there at this time.” You murmur and he hums against the hair at the back of your head. “Looking at the birds.”
He tensed a little and a sigh brushed against your head. You knew it was probably soon, or maybe not an appropriate time but you also couldn’t find it in you to lie. “You always loved the birds.”
And it was the tone in which he said those words, as if instead of knowing eachother for a three years he had known you for your entire lifetime. The tone that said I wasn’t there but I knew you even when I didn’t. That’s what made the sting of tears appear. Because you felt exactly the same about him. And you knew he wanted to spare you of any pain and that he wasn’t able to protect you from the fear hurt him too. Sweet Robert, raised to put the ones he love before himself.
“I love you.” You spoke after a minute of trying to reorganise your thoughts. “I love you so much it hurts sometimes.” You could hear him huff behind you and you knew he was about to interrupt you. So you turned quickly and pressed your hand against his mouth to shush him preemptively. “Let me speak. Sometimes it hurts because I simply cannot process all the feelings and I can only hope that you understand one third of the feelings I have for you. Because I’m unbelievably lucky that I found you. While also sad that I haven’t known you for longer because I wish I could have been therefor every story you tell me, good or bad.”
By that point the knot in your throat was too big to keep talking, but just by looking at Bob’s eyes you knew he knew. And the shine in his eyes told you he was feeling something big too. You raised your hand to straighten his still crooked glasses and he grabbed your wrist, placing the inside of it against his lips to press a soft kiss.
“I don't believe in luck.” He spoke, tickling the skin of your wrist with the movement of his chapped lips. “I do believe we've known each other since forever, though.”
“Really?” You whispered while moving your hand to rest against his warm cheek.
“Yeah. You know how?” You shook your head no, enjoying the softness in his voice that paired so well with the now purple and blue tones coming from the window. “When the big bang happened, all the atoms in the universe, they were all smashed together into one little dot that exploded outward. So my atoms and your atoms were certainly together then, and, who knows, probably smashed together several times in the last 13.7 billion years. So my atoms have known your atoms and they've always known your atoms. My atoms have always loved your atoms.”
And if the Robert lying on the hospital bed pumped full of drugs wasn’t your Robert, this was exactly him. Scientific and precise, and loving and just a perfect amount of nerdy that made your stomach fill with butterflies. The Robert that could make talking about atoms the most romantic thing ever said in history. Your Robert, forever.
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“Do I know you?” You asked the blonde man standing to your right at the crowded bar.
You were feeling a bit out of your comfort zone surrounded by so many people in the bar,, that’s why you had offered yourself to get the drinks not thinking this side would be even more crowded. But, somehow, in the middle of the chaos you had found yourself next to a blonde man who seemed as uncomfortable as you. While waiting for your drinks you couldn’t help but glance at him from time to time, your gut telling yo there was something familiar about him.
He looked at you surprised and opened and closed his mouth several times before clearing his throat. “I-I don’t think so.” The man answered before he seemed to rethinking his answer. “I wouldn’t forget a face so beautiful.”
And you appreciated the sentiment but it almost sounded weird out of his mouth. But he himself cringed at his bad pick up line so you knew your reaction wasn’t alone. With a chuckle you introduced yourself and he reciprocated with a bashful smile.
“Well Robert, I am so glad now I know you.” “I’m sure I won’t forget you now, pick up lines aside.”
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mishalikessoundsandcolours · 2 months ago
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Gender question rant I guess (long, sorry)
My need to come out at least to some people at my school is growing greater, but there are two main reasons that really hold me back from doing that:
The fact that my identity is so vague (I really don't know how else to describe it). Like, being not cis and out is not a huge problem in my school, I mean of course there's a bunch of queerphobic people but there are also plenty of people who are cool with it, and enough queer people as well. I know that there are a few trans people too, though I only know one of them personally. But I just don't know how to explain that 'I'm genderqueer, even if my gender expression isn't strictly androgynous, I do dress femme sometimes and I don't have huge body dysphoria but I'm still not a girl, I'd just like you all to refer to me as Lior instead of the name you've known me by for years and to switch between pronouns all the time' - that's the way I technically feel. I could make the pronouns thing a bit easier by just choosing gender-neutral ones because even though I like switching it up the way my closest friends have no problem doing, I'm comfortable to settle on they/them as a default in public. HOWEVER, I live in Germany and the problem is that there is no exact equivalent to singular they because 'sie' means both she and plural they. It's stupid, I know. I've read about some German neopronouns like 'dey/dem', 'sier' and 'mensch' (that's basically just the word for 'human', I actually like this option), but firstly, people might not take those seriously because "they're too hard to get used to" and secondly, I'd need someone I trust to refer to me with these pronouns a few times so that I can see if they really fit, BUT all of my close friends who I'm out to are russian-speakers. And I also just don't know any nonbinary/genderqueer people who speak german in real life, and I speak English with the ones I know online. Why do languages have to be so harddddd I wish every language was like Finnish where everyone is just 'hän' in third person. Anyways, that was the first problem!
The second one is more simple: there are too many people who've known me for six years and I've only got two years left here, so is it really worth it? I'm just scared that not may people will believe me if I explain my identity to them because "I've known you since fifth grade, you always looked and dressed like a girl!" or whatever. I dunno. I don't know what to do. I don't feel much like myself when I'm called by the name I've gone by so far in German (which is already a different version of the name my parents and other russian-speakers call me and also a different version of the name I have on documents). But I feel like people would be too confused if I came out. But there are also just some people I like to be around, especially my bandmates, and I'd like to fully be myself around them.
I'm just confused and angry at myself for being so confused and arghhhhhh. I don't know anything anymore.
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sotwk · 5 months ago
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Hi, I hope you’re doing well <3 I’m a huge fan of your writing and your whole work in general :) I remember once in one of your fanfics the queen says she lost a son to dragon fire and I’ve been wondering ever since if it was Mirion because you mentioned that there was peace won through Mirion’s death before? So was there some sort of dragon situation at Mirkwood? I love your writing so much and I’m so sorry if the grammar is messed up English isn’t my first language :)) I hope it was understandable lol because I came to this conclusion out nowhere honestly but I love your writing <3
What a lovely question and message to receive; thank you, Anon! <3 I am honored to have you as a "huge fan", and am just happy you even read "The Broken Shield", and remembered this part of it!:
“He already lost one son to dragons, and he refused to risk another,” said the Queen, her voice now barely above a whisper. “That is the thought that ruled my King’s decision to turn his army back.” - The Broken Shield
I've been vague about the exact details about the deaths of Thranduil's elder sons, Legolas's older brothers. I have a strange reluctance to spoil plot points, which is illogical since I've already spoiled plenty of things about my AU stories, and there is no guarantee I will be able to write out everything in full fics.
But here is the condensed answer to your question about "The Prince Who was Killed By Dragons".
It was not Mirion. Mirion died in direct combat against the Necromancer himself in Third Age 2063. Although he technically lost the battle, he managed to weaken Dol Guldur’s forces and set Thranduil's wrath upon the cursed stronghold. This resulted in the Necromancer fleeing to the east, leading to four centuries of "The Watchful Peace".
Arvellas was the Thranduilion slain by dragons, but he did not die by dragon fire; he was killed in the onslaught of cold-drakes upon the Halls of King Dain I. This occurred in Third Age 2589, in the culmination of the War of the Dwarves and Dragons.
It was a very tragic event in Thranduil's life and the history of the Woodland Realm, so I would like to tell the story in full (in headcanon form) on a separate post.
Arvellas's death absolutely influenced Thranduil's decision not to intervene in the attack of Smaug (shared in this linked headcanon), which of course affected the history of Erebor and his family's relationship with the the Line of Durin.
Please stay tuned for the separate HC post about Arvellas's heroic death! I'll be reblogging this post with a link to it also. :) Thank you again for your support of my OCs and AU!
Side note: Cold-drakes may not breathe fire, but looking at the artist depictions of them, they definitely look like nasty, cruel monsters!
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scaredcrab · 2 years ago
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Wukong can't read? (lmk hc)
My personal headcanon about the whole "Wukong is illiterate" thing in the show is that he knows how to read and write perfectly in his native language, but he is still learning english.
Well, technically his native language is the monkey language, but you guys know what I mean.
Follow my mindset here. In the Journey to the West our king spent years of his life studying with his first master to learn how to turn immortal and all, it's impossible that he didn't learn how to write and read there, in my opinion that's when he learned.
And my main proof of him being capable of writing, it's when he gets punished for causing a havoc in the celestial realm. When Buda challenged Wukong to escape his hand, he jumped and went so far that he found giant pillars of the universe (that later was revealed to be Buda's fingers), so the Monkey King literally pissed in the pillars and left a message there to prove that he actually got there.
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(this is a scene from a series of children's videos about jttw, you can search for little fox jttw and find it on youtube)
"But the Lego Monkie Kid show isn't a direct sequel of the JTTW, it's only inspired on it."
Within the show, there are several occasions where his ability to read and write is shown:
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In the "Impossible Delivery" episode, Wukong reveals to us that he receives emails from a lawyer.
How would Wukong read 37 emails from his lawyer if he didn't know how? Yes, he is shown to be too lazy to read, but it wouldn't make sense for the two to communicate via emails if the Monkey King couldn't read or write.
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Those were all the times that I saw Sun Wukong actually writing something inside the cartoon (as far as I can remember).
In the special "Revenge of the Spider Queen", it is shown a small note that Wukong leaves behind in the peach trees of the heavenly realm after he ""borrows the fruit"" (but keep in mind that this scene may just be a visual representation of the situation and not something that Wukong actually did).
In the same special episode, he leaves a Happy New Year note behind when he gives a box of traditional sweets made with his fur.
And he once wrote (and illustrated!) an instruction letter to MK in the second season episode, "Ping Pong Panic". Also, MK doesn't show difficulty in reading what his master wrote to him, it could be that he already got used to the calligraphy or Wukong is simply good at writing.
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(what i.o.u mean? it's "I owe you one"?)
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Of course, in the show, some of these notes were translated into English, but that for me is just to facilitate the visualization, and there is nothing too complex being written in the translated notes, the most complex text that MK reads in the ping-pong episode remain as scribbles not understandable by the public in both versions (or maybe our king wrote everything in a rush, so his calligraphy isn't the best in this letter for me to recognize as actual letters).
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And the third episode of the second season isn't the only time when writing is represented with unknown symbols, this happens in many episodes like in the vr game that Wukong owns in the sixth episode in season two, "Game on".
This surely happens to make the translation easier, there's no need to change the text written every time if it's just symbols, but this occult if things are being written in a specific language, and to me is everything in chinese.
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This is a scene from the Ping-Pong episode where Wukong just beat every guard in some heavenly place, and he doesn't seem happy with whatever is written in this scroll. The letters in this scroll look like lots of hanzis instead of unknown symbols.
Of course, as I stated in the start, this is a personal headcanon of mine. I really enjoy the idea of Wukong knowing how to speak in the monkey language, in cantonese and mandarin, and to be learning english in the modern times. I can't confirm if this is all how it works in the show itself, still cute to imagine him speaking a broken english (just like I do, lil bit of projection on my side).
That's it, thanks to everyone who read all this thing.
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historia-vitae-magistras · 1 year ago
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I'm sorry if this is a bit too personal, but I'm interested in becoming an archivist myself! I was wondering what classes you took and how exactly you became an archivist. Right now I'm majoring in art history for my undergrad, but I'm worried that I chose wrong 😭
This is only going to be relevant for North America, most archivists in the old world have PhD's and 6 titles, I'm just a lowly peon by EU standards especially but I finished my undergrad after I got my job. I read/majored in history with historic preservation as a secondary study/minor. Then I'm in the process of finishing a master's degree in library science with two certs in archives and manuscripts. Art history isn't a bad choice! You can have a lot of different undergraduate backgrounds. History, Art History, English language. I've met people with degrees in everything from childhood education to microbiology become librarians and archivists. The degrees you get are kind of only technicalities? You need a master's degree and it has to be accredited by the ALA. Everything else is whatever. No one gives a shit I went to a really good school. To be an archivist we do have archives tracks but its still mostly the same degree. Most of the reason we have degrees at all is because the field of library science skews heavily as a female dominated job so having a master's kind of lets us have some fancy pieces of paper that let other's in higher ed and administration i.e. men take us more seriously.
Your degrees and grades are important, but what you really want is experience. Get a library job, volunteer, job shadow, whatever you want, just get your butt in a library and ideally an archive. 9/10 of the people I know are struggling to find positions despite their degrees and good grades can't because they were so academically inclined they didn't think about actual hands on experience. We're technically a kind of academic, but we're one of few types in the humanities where our education is rather secondary to what we actually have experience doing.
If your institution has courses in curation and exhibition, public history, architectural history, cemeteries, anything that takes you out of a classroom and actually doing history, take them. Most archivists work in communities. Whether they be state or local libraries, universities, local history associations, museums, corporate archives etc, etc, we're memory keepers who need really good organization skills. Yes a good piece of our job is filing paperwork but we file the paper work that makes up the bulk of the hippocampus of any given society.
I've been an archival assistant for 6 years and a full archivist for 2 and a charge archivist for 6 months and I don't have my masters degree yet. I got a library job in high school because I had to work off some discipline issues with volunteer hours and a while down the line when I was working three job in undergrad, I got a student position at a circulation desk where I did my first archival work. I didn't really have any intention of being an archivist, I went through a half dozen majors before my body decided it was going to do its best to die and then with a lot of those very exerting possibilities off the table, I landed a third job in a library. And I had a little bit of experience in archives so I rolled to a stop at rock bottom and looked around me and went "oh hey wait, I'm actually really good at this? And it's fun? am I insane or is this a good fit?" and my supervisor agreed and two years later here I am with a well packed resume and more work experience than education and a archivist's title.
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