#Diem Ha Le

[oldfilmsflicker]

new-to-me #845 - Những đứa trẻ trong sương (Children of the Mist)

[umfilmibom]

Hijes de la niebla

Children of the mist

Ha Le Diem

Vietnam

2021

[targaryenrealnessdarling]

Quid Pro Quo | Michael Gavey x fem!reader

Summary: After being ditched by her friend at the Trinity College Christmas Party, she finds herself enthralled with learning the language of Michael Gavey | Word Count: 3.8k~ | Warnings below the cut!

Part Two: Carpe Diem Part Three: Veni, Vidi, Vici

warnings: virgin michael, semi-public sexual conduct, oral sex (m receiving), heavy petting

If she has to listen to Professor Wardon swoon over Ancient Greek and how it ‘drove him to pursue his dreams in extending his passion to other students’, she thinks she might actually fall asleep.

She's in a good spot to do so, nestled between two other students, the one on her right seemingly just as bored as her, and conveniently hidden behind a tall, lanky first year, who sits straight, with his head perfectly obscuring hers as he fixes his posture regularly.

Several times throughout, she's checked her watch, and yet the second hand never seems to move an inch.

Professor Wardon is just about to go on a lovesick spiel about Homeric Greek when the lecture concludes with a heaved sigh from every student as they sling their hefty bags over their shoulders.

“Remember I want 2,500 words on Les Liaisons dangereuses in my pigeon hole by next Thursday, before your Christmas parties!” 

“Oh joy,” she sighs with a grin to the girl walking shoulder to shoulder beside her as they leave, feeling noticeably lighter knowing that that's their last lecture before Christmas break.

“Christ, you're telling me. I can't be arsed to even right my own name at the moment, nevermind read 18th century fucking French.”

She gives a snort in reply, “Merry Christmas to us, eh? Should do what the French do and have a revolution or something.”

“Yeah, eat our lecturers or something.”

“Alright, I wouldn't go that far.”

“Anyway, I'm off to T Library, see ya, have a good Christmas and don't do anything I wouldn't!”

She waves her off as her friend disappears, the cold air of the outside nipping at her skin that manages to sneak beneath her coat.

Oxford University is not what she imagined at all. She came here very much feeling like an outsider, like there'd been some sort of paperwork mistake and it was supposed to be someone else in her place. 

The imposter syndrome seemed difficult to shift, but she'd at least managed to make a couple of friends since starting in September.

Languages had always found her well, and seemingly the only thing she managed to actually understand. People were inconsistent, cruel and fickle. Languages, though they shifted and changed, were firmly rooted in reason and understanding. 

As sad as it sounded, conjugating verbs, vowel shifts and rare dialects were the one thing she found herself itching to discover more about. The idea that there was more to uncover seemed exciting and scary at the same time.

And Oxford University was the best place she could be to do that.

All that said, her eagerness to get involved with her studies had left her social life with much to be desired.

In the first two weeks of university alone, she'd gained one friend and lost a boyfriend. And while they were drifting apart anyway, it was still a relatively large blow to her self-esteem and her confidence to actually get out there, socialise and make the most of her first year of freedom.

The only friends she'd made were those on her course. Priya, who'd just abandoned her to stick her nose in books about the Great Vowel Shift, and Anya, who…to be honest, rarely left her room. Seeming more like a ghost than anything else.

It was a wonder she was still a student, with how often she missed classes.

What Anya does do best, is manage to somehow rise out of her pit to drag her to Christmas parties that aren't even run by their college.

Which is why she finds herself somehow at Trinity College campus, where she eyes several scantily clad women wearing revealing Santa costumes adorned with itchy tinsel.

Anya is the sort of girl who, well, every girl kind of wants to be. So much so she sort of wonders why she hangs around with her. She's pretty, fit and fucking clever. Her only downfall is her taste in men, so often being Oxford pretty boys.

So it is absolutely no surprise at all, when two jägerbombs in, Anya has somehow slipped into the arms of one aforementioned Oxford pretty boy, seeming in every way a clone of the previous, with the exception of the way he pairs his Ayia Nappa top with his low rise jeans and the only effort to conform to  theme, is a pair of plastic reindeer antlers on his head bobbling side to side.

She grimaces as she watches them suck each other's faces off in a dark corner of the room, ‘Stay Another Day’ by East 17 blaring with a cheap crackle through the speakers as she makes her way through the bodies to somewhere quiet.

She sighs, nursing the rum and coke Anya had sloppily poured her in one hand as she closes the door behind her, shutting out the drunken squeals and cheers for the peace of a quiet common room.

It's still decorated, she notes, but empty. Maybe she could lurk here until Anya is done, if she ever will be.

The deep clack of a pool ball being sucked into a socket makes her jump, realising perhaps that she was not actually alone, as she'd previously thought.

The cool light hung above the battered pool table illuminates his deep red jumper, and the first thing she sees is the way he leans on one leg, standing straight as if he was imitating the rigid pool cue leant before him. The yellow lined detailing around the cuffs highlights his small wrists and big hands that stretch from it as he rubs blue chalk onto the tip.

Her eyes trail up the back of his neck, past the lazy waves of dark blonde hair, clearly due a trim at some point, and to his face, even from this angle able to see how his features sit. With a sharp nose and jawline, and black skinny glasses perched above his cheekbones.

She almost laughs at the way he's almost as tall as the light that illuminates the table, half-thinking that she might never have seen such a strange and yet interesting looking guy.

“Didn't fancy the party?” she finally says, alerting him to her presence.

She doesn't quite expect the way the light bounces off his sharp features, sinking his blue eyes in shadow as his head turns to her with an expression of boredom.

“Not particularly, no.” 

His voice is lighter than she thought it would be and part of her wonders if he's putting it on. He presses his glasses further up his nose before assessing his next shot, stalking around the table.

“Why's that?”

This time, when he answers, he doesn't look at her. He simply leans down, and aims.

“Not. Fucking. Invited,” he replies bitterly, missing a yellow, “that's why.”

Her fingertips moisten against the glass as the ice begins to melt, but she pays it no mind.

“So you're lurking about in here instead.”

He plays with the cue in one hand, barely sparing a second glance, a bitter, quiet laugh escaping him.

He misses another red before he heaves a sigh, straightening to look at her again.

“You here alone as well?” he asks dispassionately.

She smiles lazily and shrugs.

“My mate is…a bit preoccupied, if you know what I mean,” she replies, taking an awkward sip of the now watered down drink, “like you, I don't really think these are my thing either.”

He seems to consider her statement for a moment.

“Why come then?”

She shrugs again, “trying to be sociable.”

“With those vapid cunts? Good luck getting any intelligent conversation out of them.”

She watches as he picks up the blue chalk again, applying more when he doesn't even need it in sort of a nervous gesture, his blue eyes averted and pretending to assess his next move.

There's something about him. How judgemental he is and how he forms his words. Perhaps she hadn't expected this sort of guy to be so outwardly honest with his opinions, and for the most part, she can't say she disagrees with the message, just the way in which he said it.

“Can I play?” She asks, leaning over to put her drink down.

“What are you reading?” He asks so suddenly, and out of context, that she does a double take.

She raises her eyebrows, smiling, “Does my answer depend on if I get to play or not?”

There's no answer from him. Shocker of the century.

“Modern Languages.”

“Fucking hell,” he groans.

She's a bit too happy and dizzy on rum to get defensive.

“Is that one of those subjects that sounds way less interesting than it actually ends up being?”

She gives a breathy laugh, “just like languages.”

He hums, as if the answer didn't impress him, “more of a science and numbers man myself, obviously.”

For a moment, it's lost on her why it's obvious.

He takes a sip of his, no doubt, stale beer, wetting his lips after, “Your name is?”

She narrows her eyes teasingly, smiling as she leans against the table, “quid pro quo.”

She enjoys the brief confusion on his face, before he realises what she's said.

“Okay, okay, Michael.”

She smiles, “See? You know what that meant. Who says you're not a languages man?”

It's the first time he seems to duck his head, hiding a blush she's barely able to see.

“I don’t think the Ancient Roman idea of fair exchange warrants the title of ‘languages man’.” 

The blue chalk comes off on his hands as he fiddles nervously with it.

“So, am I bestowed the privilege of playing?”

He raises his head, and she can tell he's trying his damndest to not let a little beer-induced smile pass his lips.

“I suppose I could allow you to embarrass yourself in front of me for a bit, if you insist. We'll have to share a cue though.”

She doesn't have the heart to tell him her uncle was a pool player, and so by extension, has played pool for most of her upbringing. Rather, he finds out himself when she pots three yellows in a row.

It's either the alcohol or pity that kicks in when she misses the fourth, holding the cue for him to take.

“You being good at pool wasn't on my bingo card,” he mutters with some nervous teasing in his voice.

They go back and forth for a bit, missing some, potting some, with interspersed conversation between. 

“Thought you might have been a Norman-no -mates, like me,” he says quietly as he watches her assess her next shot. Bending to aim.

“You're not far off,” she replies, “first fortnight I was down a boyfriend. Since then, I've only been up two friends and one of them is in the other room  having ditched me for the shag of a lifetime.”

She doesn't see it until after she takes the shot, the way his eyes flit back to hers quickly as she rights herself to stand.

Was he checking me out?

As if he was lagging, he only laughs now at what she's said.

“What about you?” She asks, “no girls, or boys, on the scene?”

He blushes a lot when she asks that. And she can't help the fluttering in her chest she feels that someone might find her attractive.

“Can’t say there is.”

She stands close, passing the cue to him, electricity warming her fingertips as she grazes his.

“And why not?”

He scoffs bitterly, “have you seen me?” he mutters, wandering around the table, suddenly unable to shake the feeling of her gaze, “Not too many girls out there looking for the stereotypical nerdy math boy, really.”

“Hm,” she hums, “how unfortunate for them.”

He sinks a red, picking at his red jumper.

“Yeah, they're clearly missing out, huh?”

The bitter and self-deprecating tone of his voice makes her heart sink a bit. He's not a bad looking guy, she thinks. His style, glasses, hair, she would almost say look actually quite cute.

Maybe that's the thing he doesn't like.

“No interest? Or is maths the only one for you?”

He misses the next shot and sighs, holding the cue for her to take, “clearly, the only one I need.”

She steps close to retrieve, taking her time, looking up at him as she does. At this proximity, Michael sucks in a breath quietly, his lips, which she can't say she'd noticed until right this moment, parting and his Adam's apple bobbing as his eyes flit rapidly down her.

A warmth swirls in her gut at that.

She circles the table, “what about in the past?” 

He leans against the other side, his hand on the cushion, long fingers splayed on the green fabric. She has to shake her head to break her own trance.

“Can’t say my love life has exactly been a roaring success, honestly.”

The way he says it.

She wouldn't be surprised if he was…

Oh.

“So what? You're focussed on your studies?”

She misses. Too set on the conversation rather than the game.

He gives a mirthless laugh, “Sure.”

She rounds the table, holding the cue for him to take, but when he reaches for it, she pulls back with a smirk.

“So we've established you're not one for languages,” she starts, and Michael furrows his brows in confusion, “have you ever really asked for what you want? Ever?”

He seems to miss what she's trying to say.

“Have you been with a girl?”

At that, his eyes widen slightly, a blush crawling up his neck to the tips of his ears, cheeks near matching his shirt.

She knows she has her answer.

“Well…I…no, I haven't…”

At chest height, she can see the way his breathing elevates.

“And, hypothetically, if a girl expressed interest. What would you say?”

His lips part for a good few seconds before he gives a reply, “I’d…I um…I guess it depends who…”

It's like he's afraid she'll make fun of him for it. 

“What about, if it was me?” She asks, her voice lowering as she reaches out to pick some lint off his jumper, like it's the most normal thing in the world. His body goes all rigid as she does.

This isn't normal in his world.

Michael swallows thickly, “you're not taking the Mick out of me, are you?”

She shakes her head, “I just want you to feel comfortable asking for what you want.”

For someone who had so often thought about it, now when faced with the situation, he feels as if he doesn't know what to do or say.

She's still stood with the cue in one hand, close enough so that when she shifts her weight from foot to foot, her knee grazes his leg. It's interesting to watch him think so deeply about it. Convinced he's probably never thought of anything so much in his life.

“What if what I want is…you?”

The tension deepens like the tone and volume of his voice. And without effort, a smile finds its way to her face when she looks at his expression. He's frozen stiff, for once, not knowing what to say.

So nothing shocks her more when he grabs the pool cue as a means of pulling her to him, and he has to duck considerably to press his lips clumsily to hers. He's eager, that much is true, but it's clear he's inexperienced. But instead of causing discomfort, she thinks it's quite endearing.

The pool cue clangs to the floor as she braces her hands on his shoulders and chest, guiding his lips with her own in a slower, more careful movement. She feels the edge of the pool table bite into her lower back when he presses her against it, clearly excited, if the hardness that's flush to her stomach is anything to go by.

The hands she had been staring at not half an hour ago are bruising as they trace her waist and hips, with a grip tight enough to tell her exactly how much he's enjoying the experience.

For a moment, they're not in a common room alone, against a pool table, with ‘Cheetah-licious Christmas’ playing in the room over, the bass of which rumbles through the floor and into their chests.

The kiss lasts a long while, and she has a feeling he wants to savour it as if it's the last time he will ever be able to do it. 

One of her hands snakes its way to the back of his head, fingers gripping at his hair to pull him closer as either of them tilt to aid more contact between them. And at the little amount of tugging, Michael whines into her mouth, prompting him to pull away.

He looks halfway between mortified and pleased, his glasses having skewed to one side with the eagerness of what they'd done. And she laughs a bit, reaching up to fix them, which seems to make the mortification fade somewhat from his face.

Michael looks down between them, where his obvious erection is pressed to her, and pulls away slightly with a scarlet blush.

“Shit - sorry-”

“It's fine,” she reassures, “no need to be embarrassed.”

The words alone would be enough, if her hand hadn't snaked between their bodies to brush her palm over him. And if it were possible, his flush spreads to his neck, words failing him once more.

Her eyes flicker up to his, their lips all kiss-bruised and swollen.

“If you don't want to-”

“No, no, I want to…” he says, immediately embarrassed about how quick it was.

She smiles, one hand palming him through his jeans and the other trailing up his chest, “Sit down.”

He backs up to sit on a nearby sofa, watching with a kind of adoration as she makes space between his legs, her eyes glimmering at him as she slowly undoes his belt.

“If at any time, you need to stop, tell me.”

He gives a nervous laugh, his stomach muscles tightening, wondering probably if this is really happening to him, “Not sure I will want to…”

She smiles reassuringly, watching as his lips part as she palms him through his boxers, trying to suppress how impressed she is with his size.

It's always the skinny white guys.

“Well, the offer's there.” She smirks, pulling him from his boxers, Michael gives a suffered breath, feeling her touch on him and also her breath so close. He almost feels dizzy. The thought of this happening in this situation, with a party going on next door, is dangerous and exciting in equal measure.

She knows he has very limited experience, so decides not to tease him too much.

Michael gasps softly as she licks at the base of him, drawing a wet line with her tongue along the vein underneath, all the way to the tip. She concentrates her efforts slightly on the sensitive spot there before closing her mouth over the head of his cock, sucking gently.

She feels the way his thighs tense, and the blue disappearing as he closes his eyes. His fists are tight beside him, knuckles white, like he doesn't know if he should touch her or not. All he knows right now is that this feeling is brand new, and the sensation is so much already.

She pulls herself from him to run her tongue over his length, one hand moving to his hand, to encourage him. His blue eyes crack open just a bit, to understand what she's trying to tell him.

And she fights the urge to smile as his longer fingers swipe across her temple into her hair, his touch tender, soft and unsure as he holds her by it. 

Her lips wrap around him once more, pushing him further into her mouth, taking him steadily and slowly at first. Michael's hips move barely, chasing the friction that he's getting on his cock when she bobs her head on him and hollows her cheeks.

He watches with parted lips and warm cheeks, moving her hair away so he can watch himself disappear into her mouth over and over. Her hand massages the rest of him, giving him two unique sensations in one, something that earns her a deep, throaty moan.

When her eyes open to look at him, he thinks his heart stops in his chest for a split second. He closes his eyes, not able to bear the way she looks with his cock in her mouth if she looks right at him, feeling that if he did any longer he wouldn't last.

The sounds he emits don't stop there as she increases her pace on him, pressing her tongue to the underside of him and taking him deeper into her throat, humming around him at the heady scent of his skin.

It's only when she takes him as far as he will go, working hard to control her gag reflex that he gives the first genuine buck of his hips, tightening in her hair and a far-too-loud moan. If anyone in the next room were quiet and paying attention, they'd likely know exactly what was going on.

“Fuck-”

It only serves to spur her on as she pulls back, moving in a more steady, quick rhythm, that she is sure Michael is loving judging by the rate of his moans and the way he chokes out his words.

His stomach clenches and unclenches, his high creeping up on him as her mouth tightens around his length. 

“Shit - you need to - I'm gonna -” he chokes, weakly tugging her hair in an effort to pull her mouth off him before he cums.

If she didn't have his cock in her mouth she'd smile.

Her hand squeezes the base of him, and Michael throws his head back slightly, a long shuddered and choked moan reverberating through his chest. She swears she feels his thighs shake as she stills, warm ropes of his cum taste musky at the back of her throat.

His loud moan is followed quickly by more softer ones as her throat contracts to swallow as much as she can, briefly increasing the tension and friction around his sensitive length.

When she pulls off him with a pleased sigh, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, Michael sits up slightly, having to gather his breath.

“Fucking hell…”

She takes it as a compliment and rises to her feet, her hands smoothing her skirt back down.

And she squeaks in delight as Michael quickly tucks himself away, barely doing up his jeans buttons before backing her up to the pool table again, kissing her fervently.

“What about you…do I…” he starts when he breaks away, panting softly. She smiles at the notion but shakes her head. This experience was for him alone.

“Not right now, don't feel inclined to,” she reassured, her hands on his chest, feeling the way his heart is beating rapidly beneath it.

“Right now?” he asks with a quiet, unsure tone, “does that mean…there's gonna be a next time?”

His tone is careful, and yet, she is able to detect something like desire there. An excitement for more, without seeming too eager so that he's not let down if she says no. Something that makes it clear he is 100% on board.

She bites back a grin.

“Quid Pro Quo, Michael.”

General Taglist: @aemondsfavouritebastard @bellstwd @blairfox04 @buckybarnesb-tch @castellomargot @hb8301 @jamespotterismydaddy @mochi-rose @natty2017 @nenelysian @randomdragonfires @risefallrise @thelittleswanao3 @theoneeyedprince @thetrueblackheart @tsujifreya @urmomsgirlfriend1 @valeskafics @virtualsweetsqueen @watercolorsky @fan-goddess

[wouteke]

How do you learn what a feeling means?

Frame Text: How to Draw a Horse by Emma Hunsinger References: Podium at Super Prestige Diem (2011) | "Aux racines de la rivalité entre Mathieu Van der Poel et Wout Van Aert" (L'Equipe) | Podium at Cyclocross World Championships Juniors (2012) | Wout trailing Mathieu at at Cyclocross World Championships Juniors (2012) | Podium at Cyclocross World Championships Elite (2017) | Wout winning an unknown race | "Van Aert: Van der Poel has always motivated me to beat him" (Cycling News) | Podium at Cyclocross World Cup Hoogerheide (2016) | Podium at Cyclocross World Championships Elite (2015) | Cyclocross Otegem Start Line (2017) | "Mathieu van der Poel and Wout van Aert: The anatomy of a rivalry" (Cycling News) | Otegem (2017) | "Mathieu van der Poel en Wout van Aert, de koningen van de cross: 'Als je niet kunt afzien, moet je gaan voetballen'" (Humo) | Otegem (2017) | Cyclocross Otegem Start Line (2018) | Cyclocross Valkenburg World Cup (2016) | "LOENHOUT: Super Van Aert wins a Trofee 'super modder' + MORE PHOTOS & TV COVERAGE" (Cyclocross Rider) | "The van der Poel-van Aert rivalry: 'It’s impossible for us to be friends'" (Le Course en Tête) | Podium at 18th Superprestige Heusden-Zolder Elite (2022) | Wout and Mathieu after an unknown race (2014) | Mathieu and Wout during the Cyclocross World Championships (2016) | Wout touching Mathieu's back after the Cyclocross World Cup Namur (2020) | Wout and Mathieu after the Tour of Flanders (2020) | Wout and Mathieu after the UCI World Championships - Road (2023)

[absolutebloodychaos]

I just listened to Live At Stožice for the first time and I took notes while listening to it cause like I'm a nerd so here are my initial thoughts about the whole thing

SSOL: LIVE BRASS

Gola: ZA NAJU!!!! The guitars absolutely killed me

Bele Sanje: So fucking powerful live, the opening just AAAAAARGH, the la la la la la la

KRIS' SOLO: My brain has left my body, I have never wanted him more

Plastika: Bojan's melodrama in the the second verse and pre-chorus is INCREDIBLE, NACE'S BASS SOLO!!!!!!!, the drums at the end, Bojan's HAHAHA in the last chorus

Proti Toku: The fucking energy is ELECTRIC, the opening guitar riff!!!!!!, KRIS' BACK UP VOCALS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!, the bridge!!!!

Dopamin: KRIS' BACK UP VOCALS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!, RAZUM IZGUBIL JE SVOJ GLAS!!!!!, The fucking danceability of this song I swear, ZAME SI ČISTI DOPAMIN, I LOVE THIS SONG SO FUCKING MUCH

Padam: The raw emotion, the atmosphere, Bojan's voice is just AAAAAAAARGH, this shit made me cry, full body fucking shivers

Demoni: THE SCREAM, THE BASS, I felt possessed

Katrina: Jure in the solo was INCREDIBLE, the vocals killed me, POVEJ MI KATRINA

TRUMPET SOLO: Killed me, I need to have it injected into my veins

ASTP: Full body shivers again, every fucking thing in the solo, the vocals, the guitars, it is all too much, I am dead, UGRIZNI, Bojan and Kris

Omamljeno Telo: DA ZDAJJJJJJJJJJ!!!!!!!!!!, everything about this song killed me, I love it so fucking much

Kot Srce Kri Kri Poganja: FUCKING EVERYTHING!!!!!!, MARTIN AND MATIC, the one simultaneous guitar bit before the bridge

Metulji: The gentle guitar, the atmosphere, the drums, I cried again

JAN'S SOLO: I feel touched by god, shivers

Vse Kar Vem: Made me cry so much, it hurt, THE SOLO, the pure longing in Bojan's voice

Barve Oceana: The audience chorus, had me jumping around so much, the drums 🫠

NGVOT: Two words. Kris. Singing. No other thoughts left in my head. Also the solo was incredible

Vem Da Greš: The clapping at the start, THE EXTENDED VERSION MY FUCKING BELOVED, I CRIED SO MUCH

JURE'S DRUM SOLO: Fucking amazing, just fucking incredible

Ne Bi Smel: Kris' backing vocals, the solo, SPET ME K TEBI VLEČE

Ona: BRASS BRASS BRASS BRASS, I love this song so fucking much it was incredible, I literally can't form words about it any more

Tokio: AAAAAAAARGH, the guitar, I was jumping, ANATA GA SUKI, WATASHI MO, this is my favourite song of theirs and everytime I hear the live version it kills me

Umazane Misli: SANJE SO TVOJEGA OKUSA, JUTRO PO TEBI MI DIŠI, KOMPAS VEČ ME NE POSLUŠA, MOJA IZGUBLJENA DUŠA, IŠČE LE U SMERI, KJER SI TI, the audio quality was amazing, the crowd choruses, Bojan's live vocal variations

Novi Val: The emotion, the crowd, breathtaking live, the vibe was so lovely

Carpe Diem: Bojan's laugh while singing Hvala Lepa, the last chorus/es, the guitar solo, I got down to the floor when he said to and my knees got sore but it was okay cause I was running on pure adrenaline at that point

[srslyscary]

┊┊. PROFILE !

⟿ BASIC ?!

STAGE NAME: kabi (카비)

BIRTH NAME: journee somun

KOREAN NAME: somun kyeong (소문경)

NICKNAMES: nee, smalls, kyeong-ah, juno, jurnie, kabiyah

BIRTHPLACE: vancouver, canada

NATIONALITY: canadian

ETHNICITY: korean-canadian

BIRTHDAY: august 13, 1996

ZODIAC: leo

LANGUAGES: english (native), korean (native), vietnamese (conversational), japanese (conversational)

FAMILY: younger brother, mom, dad

⟿ PHYSICAL ?!

FACE CLAIM: harvey (xg)

RAP CLAIM: harvey (xg)

VOICE CLAIM: natty (kiss of life)

DANCE CLAIM: yunjin (le sserafim)

HEIGHT: 165cm (5’5)

WEIGHT: 126.8 lbs

BLOOD TYPE: O

BODY MODIFICATIONS: venom tongue piercing, standard lobe piercing, upper lobe piercing, helix piercing, three tattoos

⟿ PERSONALITY ?!

MBTI: ISTJ

MBTI TYPE: The ISTJ personality type is introverted, sensing, thinking, and judging, which means they are energized by quiet, independent work; pragmatic and detail oriented; logical; and skilled in organization and time-management.

POSITIVE TRAITS: quiet, trustworthy, honest, organized, passionate, humorous

NEGATIVE TRAITS: short tempered, easily annoyed, overthinks, detached to the world at times, very judgy

⟿ CAREER ?!

OCCUPATION: singer, rapper, dancer, lyricist, producer

POSITIONS IN STRAY KIDS: main rapper, vocalist, dancer

UNIT IN STRAY KIDS: vocal racha

DEBUT: march 25th, 2018 (korea), march 18th, 2020 (japan)

ACTIVE: 2018 - present

AGENCY: sm (2009-2014) jyp (2015 - present)

INSTAGRAM: @_kaabiyahh

REPRESENTATIVE EMOJI: 🐮

SKZOO: a cow named kyee (word play of ‘ky’ from the beginning of her korean name and ‘ee’ from the end of her birth name)

⟿ EXTRAS ?!

> she’s the oldest out of all the stray kids members

> she has a younger brother (somun hajoon / kyle , born 2005).

> kabi’s birthday is two days after changbin’s birthday

> her nicknames given by her members: joona (journee noona), kyeong-ah, kabiyah, and moon

> she used to be an sm trainee before she left due to not liking the environment after a long while

> during the maniac tour, kabi had dislocated her shoulder after accidentally falling off the stage. she went on a 4 month hiatus while recovering

> she’s very silly during photo shoots

> she was worse than han during her predebut era

> she has three different tattoos. her first tattoo is the anniversary of stray kids debut (0325), located on the back of her neck. her second tattoo is a reference of a spinal cord, located on her back. her third tattoo is a black wisp, located on her left hand.

> she lives in the dorms with lee know, seungmin, felix, and i.n

> she swears without a care in the world. you will almost always hear a bleep in every skz code, etc

> her favorite singers are wave to earth, the weeknd, and lil wayne

> if she wasn’t in stray kids, she would be a florist

> a frequent vocal habit she has is saying “oddball” when she’s sincerely judging someone

> she takes a liking to crime and murder documentaries such as first 48 or criminal minds

> she goes to other idol group’s concerts often

> kabi is known to sleeptalk

> as said by her members, she is known to be very quiet even when everyone else is loud

> she gets annoyed easily

> fought a skz anti after they threw a drink in her face

> kabi has 2 cats named tazi and bada

> she has a very big habit of taking pictures of the members at random moments

> kabi owns a podcast show called “KVBI TALKS : The Podcast”

> her favorite 3racha songs are “carpe diem”, “complain”, and “peer pressure”.

[lunarsilver]

Short messages for you, stepping in 2023

Of course I became ill just before Christmas. Because of this, I'm doing all the readings I have thought about later than I wanted to, sorry for that! We're starting off with a shorter reading, using charms and shufflemancy.

REMEMBER

I’m not a doctor, a psychiatrist, a therapist nor a psychologist. Tarot readings will never replace meetings with them.

It’s a general reading, so not everything will resonate.

If you can’t choose between two piles, probably both of them have some messages for you. You can also not identify with any of them and that’s okay too.

Readings can help you make a decision, but they shouldn’t be the main reason of making it.

1 ~ 2 ~ 3

PILE 1

catch the moment, good vibes, what will be will be – the whole Carpe diem motive is very strong here

E, X, I, minus, birds, 9, 6, 9 seals, seal (the charm shows the animal, but I have also thought about seal as in stamp/sigil), ex, chicken, duck, water, swimming, chimney, house/home upside down, X-mas, some fire, blue and red, water and fire; 9 means coming to an end, achievement; 6 means harmony, cooperation, healing, adapting

Shufflemancy: Teeth (5 Seconds of Summer)

PILE 2

it was a good evening, relax, crossing fingers

water is very prominent here, T, P, jar, spell jar, jam, X, 1, J, seal (animal), L. J., star, hope, kid, wishing while looking at a shooting star, pregnancy, teacher, parenting figure, 2; these two charms – big and small star and number 2 – are at some distance from the rest of the charms, some getting away or separating some parts of the life from each other?; secret jar with souvenirs, moneybox, tip, Tom and Jerry; 1 means a new beginning, chance, inspiration and 2 means balance, partnership, duality and choice

Shufflemancy: Le Bien qui fait mal (Mozart Opera Rock)

PILE 3

any occasion is good (it’s fallen out while i was shuffling, so take it to your heart), will you fall in love with me?, what will be will be

here all charms fell in some distance from each other so i think they’re all separate messages, without much linking with each other: some air and water, Q, P, a Q person is an air sign/has a lot of air in their chart and a P person is a water sign/has a lot of water in their chart, yellow, blue, 9, TV, radio, retro, orange (fruit), there is two of these TV/radio charms, would you appear there or see/watch/hear something important?, train, travelling, chicken, vacation, for some reason i’m getting summer vibes (specifically like in these anime/series romantizing 80's), queen, queen bee, Pisces; 9 means coming to an end, achievement

Shufflemancy: Surfuce Pressure (Jessica Darrow)

[dolphin1812]

“ It is on this famous barricade of the Rue de la Chanvrerie, which has now fallen into deep night, that we are going to throw a little light.”

A nice line! Since the barricades as seen by those there aren’t covered as widely in the historical narrative, Hugo offers to explain it. This is part of his historical style and of his political message at the same time; if “light” is Progress, “throwing a little light” on the barricade brings it into the discourse of how to achieve Progress in Hugo’s present.

“For the clearness of our narrative, we may be permitted to have recourse to the simple mode which we employed for Waterloo.”

Waterloo here may be a general reference to the somewhat historical approach taken in that digression, and it’s true that Hugo’s writing like that here, too. For example, he describes the formation of the barricades in a similar way to the layout of the battle, helping us visualize everything and locate the different actors. However, it also encourages us to consider the barricades in the context of the Waterloo digression’s themes (the people triumphing over the “great man” being an inevitable part of the 19th century; a tragic loss full of small glories for the French). 

The Rue Rambuteau was part of the widening of Paris’ streets, in this case done by the Count de Rambuteau but most famously under Haussmann. Rambuteau’s project was partly in response to the cholera outbreak we’ve been reading about, and was meant to improve public health. Hugo, though, was a big fan of old Paris, hence his passive-aggressive remarks about all of these changes. They’re also meant to point out differences to his Parisian contemporaries. I think Hugo would’ve been in France for this change? But it’s very likely that many of his contemporary readers may have been curious about the layout he describes and would not have been able to find it if he didn’t mention the reorganization of the city.

It’s fascinating that M Hucheloup didn’t know French? It seems like his name is French(?), so I wonder if it’s an issue of regional dialects and languages? Mme Hucheloup is noted for not speaking a very comprehensible French, so perhaps that was it? Or is Hugo mocking their lack of education?

The Latin is a joke, though. If the more familiar expression of “carpe diem” means “seize the day” with the connotation of making the most of it, then “carpe horas” likely means the same for hours. Grantaire, then, discovered this place looking to have fun and returned because the food was good. And this is a useful thing he did! This meant that Les Amis had a place to meet in addition to the Musain! It was likely easier for him since it was the act of a friend rather than the act of an ally; he can be a good friend! He just can’t act politically.

[carmenvicinanza]

Judi Dench

Judi Dench, pluripremiata attrice britannica, è una immensa interprete di cinema e teatro.

Dopo tanti successi nella Royal Shakespeare Company, dalla metà degli anni Ottanta, è diventata nota anche sul grande schermo, grazie alla sua incisiva carica comunicativa, interpretando ruoli di donne eccentriche o vendicative in film di successo.

Nel 1999 ha vinto l’Oscar alla miglior attrice non protagonista per il suo ruolo della regina Elisabetta I in Shakespeare in Love.

Ha ricevuto ben otto nomination per gli Oscar, di cui l’ultima nel 2021, ha vinto anche undici Premi BAFTA, due Golden Globe, otto Olivier Awards, due Screen Actors Guild Award  e un Tony Award. Nel 2011 è stata insignita della BAFTA fellowship, il più alto riconoscimento assegnato, ogni anno, dalla British Academy of Film and Television Arts. Fa parte della Royal Society of Arts.

Diverse Università tra cui quella del Surrey, di Durham, la Queen Margaret, la St. Andrews, East Anglia e Leeds le hanno conferito Dottorati Honoris Causa per il suo contributo alla cultura cinematografica e televisiva. 

Nata col nome di Judith Olivia Dench, il 9 dicembre 1934 nella provincia di York, ha ascendenze nobiliari britanniche e danesi. Entrata a contatto col teatro grazie al padre, medico di alcune compagnie, ha studiato alla Central School of Speech and Drama di Londra prima di entrare nella Royal Shakespeare Company nel 1961. Ha debuttato al cinema tre anni dopo. Negli anni Settanta e Ottanta ha girato svariati film tv per la BBC e riscosso grandi soddisfazioni teatrali.

La prima importante interpretazione al cinema è stata nel film di James Ivory Camera con vista del 1986.

Nel 1988 è stata insignita dalla Regina del titolo di Dame, l’equivalente del cavalierato maschile, che ha seguito la nomina di Ufficiale dell’Ordine dell’Impero Britannico nel 1970.

La grande celebrità è arrivata con il ruolo di M nella serie di film di James Bond a partire da GoldenEye del 1995 fino a Spectre del 2015. Da allora è stato tutto un susseguirsi di importanti interpretazioni diretta dai più grandi registi hollywoodiani.

Straordinaria interprete, utilizza al meglio il linguaggio della recitazione per arrivare al cuore del pubblico e farlo riflettere sugli assilli dell’anima.

Sostiene da molti anni Survival International, organizzazione che difende i diritti dei popoli indigeni di tutto il mondo.

Nel 2012 le è stata diagnosticata la degenerazione maculare senile, malattia degli occhi che le rende sempre più difficile lavorare. Ma, nonostante abbia costante bisogno di aiuto, non ha mai smesso di recitare e si è guadagnata l’ultima nomination agli Oscar nel 2022 per il suo lavoro in Belfast. 

Non ha alcuna intenzione di lasciare i set, nonostante i gravi problemi di vista. È talmente determinata a vivere il presente e ciò che la vita ha ancora da offrirle che, a 81 anni, si è tatuata la scritta “carpe diem” sul polso.

Molto impegnata per l’ambiente, ha recentemente rivelato che, da un po’ di anni, ogni volta che una persona amica le muore, fa piantare un albero nel suo giardino. Per rendere metaforicamente la  morte un’occasione per restituire al pianeta una nuova vita.

Questo dice molto sullo spirito di questa donna inarrestabile che, ogni giorno, sceglie di cogliere la vita dal suo lato più bello e reagire alle cattive notizie chiedendosi cosa fare per bilanciare le cose.

[tanzania2023]

20 de juliol - Hadzabe i Detonga

A les 7:00 del matí, ja esmorzats, marxem direcció al llac Eyasi. Vaig quedar ja fa uns mesos amb el Gorjo, que es el guía / contacte amb els Hadzabe. L'Stanley el coneix, aquí tots es coneixen.

Els Hadzabe es una tribu dels últims que queden al món com a caçadors-recolectors. No conreuen ni tenen ramats, només cacen (els homes) i recolecten (les dones).

La carretera deixa anar molta pols però és una mica millor que la d'ahir.

Trobem el Gorjo, que ens espera al punt de control, ens saludem i puja al cotxe. Es molt simpàtic i porta unes rastes que li queden de conya.

Seguim endins per una carretera més difícil fins que arribem a una esplanada amb un arbre on estan els Hadzabe esperant. Fem les presentacions xocant els punys i un d'ells, força jove, ens explica coses que el Gorjo va traduint. Ens ensenya fletxes i ens explica per a que serveix cadascuna. Una pels monos, un altre per ocells, un altre pels Pumba, etc. Ho explica rient i fent una mica el tonto. El llenguatge que fan servir es molt similar al dels bosquimans de Namíbia, amb sons fets amb la llengua sonant "clec". Es quasi impossible de reproduir.

Després el Gorjo ens diu que anem a caçar. Marxem amb tres d'ells per l'estepa, i els anem seguint. Ells van a la seva i molt simpàtics no semblen. Un es un nen d'uns 10 anys.

Anem caminant buscant algo per caçar fins que el nen, uns 20 minuts després, arriba amb un ocellet de color groc que ha caçat.

Se'l penja al coll i anem fins una ombra on fan foc amb un pal, hi posen l'ocellet al damunt i se'l jalen amb quasi totes les plumes i tot. Apa, ja han esmorzat. Ens n'han ofert però hem declinat amablement.

Havent-se fotut el pobre ocell, es lien un porret de marihuana i se'l fumen. El Gorjo diu que tot el dia fumen herba, tant homes com dones.

Tornem a l'esplanada on hi ha les dones assegudes al terra i unes quantes criatures petites. Les fotografiem (ens fa cosa però és deixen). Una nena petita porta un vestit de princesa com la de Frozen que ves a saber d'on l'han tret. La Joana es fixa amb una altra nena d'uns dos o tres anys, li pregunta com es diu però no entenem que diu, fins que el Gorjo ens diu que ha dit "María" i es posa a riure. Diu que alguns noms els treuen dels turistes.

La nena li pregunta al Gorjo si ell va amb els homes blancs (que som nosaltres) i desprès li diu que ella també té una persona blanca a casa (es una nina, entenem). Ens posem a riure i ens mira com extranyada. La Joana li dóna una samarreta, l'hi posa i li queda com si fos un vestit. La nena sembla contenta, però la mare ni fu ni fa.

Després s'ajunten tots i fan un ball. Per acabar, passem per una zona on tenen una mica d'artesania i els hi comprem algunes cosetes. Una de les noies es guapíssima. Paguem amb dòlars i el Gorjo s'encarrega d'explicar quin valor tenen els bitllets i de comptar-los.

Després els canviaran per Shillings (moneda de Tanzania) als conductors dels turistes.

Ens acomiadem i el Gorjo ens porta ara a veure els Detonga, que son ferrers. En arribar ens esperen unes cinc o sis dones més elegants i netes que les Hadzabe, i més guapes. Saludem dient "Seiyu" i donant la m�� a tothom, literalment.

Hi ha tres nens petits, un es diu "Diners" i l'altra "Pneumàtics". Tal qual.

Entrem a una cabana i ens pregunten coses com ara quantes vaques vaig pagar per la meva dona, si tenía més dones, quants fills i si erem tots quatre la mateixa família o erem dues families.

Després es posen a batre blat de moro per fer farina amb una pedra i fan que la Joana i la Montse ho facin també. Tot això, cantant i donant palmades. Qualsevol cosa que diuen o diem ho acaben aplaudint.

Ens miren constantment i nosaltres les mirem constantment. El Manel els ensenya fotos del Pol i l'Aina i riuen encantades.

Després vesteixen la Joana i la Montse amb vestits i joies i ens fem fotos a la sortida.

A continuació anem a una altra zona on hi ha els homes fent puntes de fletxa. Agafen ferralla que han trobat (canonades velles, aixetes, candaus, etc) i ho fonen allà mateix. Amb un clau llarg fan una punta de fletxa en 10 minuts. Aquests puntes després les compren els Hadzabe per caçar, amb els diners que fan aguantant els turistes.

Comprem algunes coses més pagant més diners del que valen però fent-ho a gust. Es el que cal fer.

Finalment ens acomiadem dient "ezebé" i anem al càmping del Gorjo (es el propietari) i dinem allà el picnic. El Gorjo ha portat polenta, que es típic, i vedella feta a trossos que està boníssima. Ens la mengem amb les mans, com déu mana.

Acabem fent un cafè molt bo a Karatu, al Lilac cafè.

[alicesfeelings]

Su Tik tok mi è capitato di guardare un video di una signora anziana americana che dava un consiglio molto saggio e cioè che si passa una vita intera a pianificare la propria felicità ma, a tempo perso, ha realizzato che la vita alla fine è soltanto un carpe diem.

E nulla, queste parole dette da una signora anziana random hanno avuto un impatto significativo su di me dal momento in cui le ho ascoltate, perché lei ha molta esperienza alle spalle e quindi mi viene da crederle ciecamente come se a dirmelo fosse stata mia nonna.

[byneddiedingo]

Two With Marcello Mastroianni

A Slightly Pregnant Man (Jacques Demy, 1973)

Catherine Deneuve and Marcello Mastroianni in A Slightly Pregnant Man

Cast: Catherine Deneuve, Marcello Mastroianni, Micheline Presle, Marisa Pavan. Screenplay: Jacques Demy. Cinematography: Andréas Winding. Production design: Bernard Evein. Film editing: Anne-Marie Cotret. Music: Michel Legrand.

A Special Day (Ettore Scola, 1977)

Marcello Mastroianni and Sophia Loren in A Special Day

Cast: Sophia Loren, Marcello Mastroianni, John Vernon, Françoise Berd. Screenplay: Ruggero Maccari, Ettore Scola, Maurizio Costanzo. Cinematography: Pasqualino De Santis. Production design: Luciano Ricceri. Film editing: Raimondo Crociani. Music: Armando Trovajoli. 

The great charm of Marcello Mastroianni lies, I think, in the fact that he always seems to be the odd man out. Despite his good looks and sex appeal, there is always the sense that the characters he plays, even though they attract women on the order of Catherine Deneuve and Sophia Loren, are never quite in charge of the world they inhabit. Certainly this is true of his most famous roles, Marcello in La Dolce Vita (Federico Fellini, 1960) and Guido in 8 1/2 (Fellini, 1963). And directors Jacques Demy and Ettore Scola exploit this otherness in Mastroianni in very different ways: Demy in the satiric A Slightly Pregnant Man and Scola in the earnest A Special Day. In the former film, whose French title was the lengthy L'Événement le plus important depuis que l'homme a marché sur la Lune (The Most Important Event Since Man Walked on the Moon), Mastroianni plays Marco, a driving-school instructor who feels out of sorts and goes to see a doctor who decides that he must be pregnant. When a well-known specialist confirms the diagnosis and presents his findings to other scientists, the press goes wild and the advertising department for a maternity-wear company launches a campaign for male maternity clothes. Marco winds up on posters everywhere, and he and his fiancée, Irène (Deneuve), begin to make big plans for the money the company pays him. Eventually, the diagnosis proves to be false, however, and the film concludes with an anticlimactic thud. Demy, whose best-known work is probably the cotton-candy musicals The Umbrellas of Cherbourg (1964) and The Young Girls of Rochefort (1967), seems to have launched into his screenplay with no sense of how to end it satisfactorily. Until that point, however, Mastroianni and Deneuve have fun with their roles. Forgoing her usual sophisticated chic, she plays a somewhat blowsy beauty-shop owner. A Special Day earned Mastroianni one of his three Oscar nominations, partly because there's nothing the Academy likes better than a straight actor daring to play gay. He is Gabriele, a radio announcer who has lost his job because the Fascists have begun purging the work force of "undesirables." The day is May 8, 1938, when Hitler visits Mussolini in Rome to solidify their alliance. He lives in a large apartment complex with windows facing an open courtyard. Across the way lives Antonietta (Loren), a woman with an abusive husband and six children. On this day, she has stayed home to clean house after sending her family off to the parades and speeches, but when the family's pet mynah bird escapes and flies out into the courtyard, she asks Gabriele's help in retrieving him. They are virtually the only people left in the complex other than the nosy, gossipy concierge, whose radio is blaring the news of the day -- Fascist anthems, speeches, the cheers of the crowd, and a running patriotic commentary -- which serves as the sometimes ironic counterpoint to the growing intimacy of the mismatched couple. A severely deglamourized Loren gives a fine performance, as does Mastroianni: Gabriele is aware that at any moment he may be taken away to a concentration camp, and he vacillates between suicide and a carpe diem fatalism. The film is a little too predictable, and although the screenplay by Scola and Ruggero Maccari is original, it feels somewhat like an adaptation of a two-character stage play. Pasqualino De Santis's cinematography, using long takes and tracking shots through the apartment complex (which we never leave except in the archival newsreel footage at the film's beginning), helps open it up.

[elenamirulla]

Mio marito mi dice che ogni tanto potrei postare qualche foto semplicemente di me, ma io ho sempre l'idea che ca*zovene: siete qui per vedere i disegni e poi la mia faccia la conoscete già. 😅 Comunque, ieri ero abbastanza in vena e mi sentivo stranamente graziosa, quindi ho fatto tipo questi 850 selfie imbarazzanti, sperando che uno scatto venisse bene. 😬 Alla fine non mi dispiacciono, quindi da che dovevo postare una foto a che ne posto una galleria. 😂 E menomale che le ho scattate ieri perché stanotte ho dormito poco con la bimba malata e ho le occhiaie, quindi carpe diem quando si ha lo schizzo di fotografarsi. O anche no, perchè in effetti chissene. 🤔 Tempo fa avevo letto uno scritto carino da allegare alle foto (non tipo le frasi esistenziali in allegato a foto di culi) che mi ero detta: "Uh, bello, questo devo ricordarmelo per quando posto foto senza senso". E invece me lo sono dimenticato. Quindi, niente, vi ho rubato 2 minuti della vostra vita così. Raccontatemi qualcosa voi. #vitadafumettista #fumetto #fumettista https://www.instagram.com/p/CpCibBEsVo8/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[isarang-hae]

SOD with Manlass ☆

★. Please note that the answer to the question is based on the author's own situation and has nothing to do with the faceclaim used.

Questions list

And these are her answers...

1. Terpendek 2 minggu, terlama 18 months (and still counting!)

2. Masih butuh pelarian dari RL yang penuh trauma itu.

3. Simply karena aku ngefans sama grupnya dan aku biasin Isa, aku tau sedikit banyak tentang Isa jadi peraninnya gak kagok! She's literally my muse!

4. Keverif WGL terus lapak verifannya direcokin mantan. Waktu itu emang baru putus 10 hari TAPI dianya sendiri baru putus 3 hari udah WGL-an juga dan saat aku verifan itu dia jadian sama partner WGL-nya. SALAHKU DI MANA? Udah lagi partner WGL-ku GHOSTING 2 hari pertama karena MAIN PLATO... huft udah lah.

5. Cut off duluan, gak nyaman.

6. Kino Pentagon, tapi dulu ya sekarang udah enggak.

7. Isinya kebutuhan OA dan SQ aja sih, sama ada bahan diving tapi belum kesentuh hehe...

8. NCT Dream - Like We Just Met, ingat pacarku karena kita berdua suka banget lagu ini. Ada waktunya di mana kita 24/7 denger lagu ini, terus rasanya jatuh cinta lagi dan lagi, perasaannya masih sama seperti waktu pertama kali ketemu.

9. Kalau yang full main rp 5 tahunan deh, sebelumnya udah main juga cuma sempet long rest dan LRP.

10. Gak ada alesannya alias tiba-tiba menghilang, DM-ku gak dibales anaknya gak pernah on lagi.

11. Awalnya keganggu, tapi yaudah lah gimana ya aku kan keren, wajar aja kalau jadi ada yang obses (jk).

12. Diem aja. Kalau emang dikasih kesempatan buat denger cerita dari kedua pihak dan emang bisa bantu, bakalan aku bantu sebisa aku. Kalau enggak yaudah diem aja, gak mau ikut campur masalah orang lain.

13. 2016 (newbie)

14. 18 months and still counting! <3

15. Kayak disayat-sayat alias perih banget guys.

16. Banyak jujur... pernah jadi Winter aespa, Eunchae Le Sserafim, Hanni NewJeans, sama Dayeon Kep1er tapi gak sampai sebulan.

17. Cantikku, my princess, my loveliest, my sunshine, Lee Chaeyoung, Lee Isa, Aisa, terima kasih banyak sudah lahir ke dunia dan tidak pernah menyerah atas mimpimu. Terima kasih sudah menari dan bernyanyi di atas panggung dan selalu berusaha untuk menghibur SWITH. I love you so much and I will support you no matter what, please Stay WITH me til the end! <3

18. Berantem waktu ngadmin bareng.

19. Lee Isa, Jang Wonyoung, Karina, Park Jisung, Park Wonbin, Byeon Wooseok ^___^

20. Nope! Aku sudah cut off orang-orang yang bikin aku gak nyaman. Tahun ini aku mulai menerapkan mati satu tumbuh seribu, people come and go, dan always prioritize myself first!

21. Nope, gak nyaman. Kalau jadi semut pernah (kena dare).

22. Biasa aja... aku anaknya suka lupa juga jadi yaudah. Kalau pun inget ya.. yaudah gak sih? Kan di GDM banyak orang, tinggal ngobrol sama yang lain aja, ez pz lemon squeeze (berusaha tidak ovt).

23. Gatau yang pasti tidak dalam waktu dekat soalnya masih stress (manusia hanya bisa berencana).

24. Nonton, nonton apapun itu mau drama, reels, konten K-Pop, stage K-Pop, mukbang, apapun itu yang penting nonton!

25. Halo, pacar imutku! 1000 ucapan terima kasih tidak akan pernah cukup untuk menggambarkan rasa syukurku atas hadirnya kakak di hidup aku, but still, thank you for everything, sayangku. Banyak sekali hal dan kejadian dengan berbagai macam emosi yang aku, kakakㅡkita rasakan selama kita menjalin kasih sepanjang masa ini, dan di semua kisah itu selalu ada kakak di dalamnya. Kakak sayangku, terima kasih banyak sudah bersedia menggengam erat tanganku dan tidak pernah berpikir untuk melepaskannya barang sedetikpun. Lagi-lagi aku hanya bisa bersyukur atas segala cinta dan kasih yang kamu berikan kepadaku, semuanya terasa lembut dan nyaman untuk aku tinggal di dalamnya. Aku sangat menyayangimu dan akan selalu menyayangimu!

🍻 Drink: 0

[alephsblog]

La cosa su cui più si accapigliavano – prima, tra palchi di Pontida e platee tv – era il famoso “contributo” di banche e assicurazioni (attenzione, la parola “tasse” fra poco sarà messa fuorilegge: non si deve dire, e nemmeno pensare. Solo subire, come sanno tanti di noi lavoratori dipendenti): come dimenticare la disputa attorno a chi deve fare i famosi “sacrifici”, con tanto di appassionata immagine verghiano-dickensiana su pescatori e operai da parte di quel romanticone di Giorgetti? E leviamo per cortesia di mezzo la parola “extraprofitti”, che fa venire le palpitazioni ai forzisti più sensibili (a dirla tutta, Tajani ha detto chiaro: “Io non so nemmeno che cosa significhi, extraprofitto”. Eggià). Diciamo che la parola “extraprofitti”, dopo essersi presa la scena per un po’ (con grandi applausi anche lei, ricordate?) sparirà da tutti gli schermi, come pure il famoso provvedimento che la riguardava. Requiescat. Bene, questi soldi in arrivo da banche e assicurazioni vengono definiti “contributo”, ma in realtà, come dire, somiglia davvero poco ai nostri, di “contributi”: si tratta più d’un “anticipo” di tasse future, quasi un “prestito”. Danno prima quello che avrebbero dovuto dare dopo (e poi, quando questi soldi anticipati mancheranno all’appello, che se la sbriglino, eventualmente, altri governi. Carpe diem, e pure contributum). Anche se, per ragioni misteriose (forse parla della legge di bilancio di un altro Stato, chissà), il ministro Salvini, in un video copiosamente rilanciato su tutti i social, continua a dirsi “orgoglioso che le banche restituiscano parte dei loro guadagni miliardari”. No, la definizione di “sacrificio” e pure quella di “contributo”, e men che meno quella di “restituzione”, proprio non menzionano questa possibilità.

Per non parlare di quell’altra cosetta, le famose “accise” che danno per uccise a ogni tornata elettorale e quelle niente, come la gramigna resistono a tutto, e si fanno beffe di qualsiasi spot (ogni riferimento a Giorgia che guida la macchina o a Matteo davanti a un tabellone pieno di X è puramente casuale). Va bene, non le hanno ancora toccate o ritoccate, se ne parlerà dopo, ma la deriva semantica è annunciata: l’”allineamento” in luogo di “aumento” è una cosa commovente. “Sei ingrassata?” “No, mi sono allineata”, è un eufemismo che potrebbe avere tanta fortuna, e gliela auguriamo tutta.

Ovviamente ci sono poi gli evergreen: “concordato” invece di “condono” è uno dei più belli, che non dovrebbe mancare in nessuna collezione autunno-inverno del nostro scontento.

Invece ci sono parole che proprio non cambiano: “bonus” resta “bonus”, anche per le forze politiche che li hanno sempre considerati come il male, e combattuti quando li usavano gli altri, salvo poi usarli a propria volta, per accontentare qua e là qualcuno, magari illudendosi di fare così politiche per la famiglia o per la natalità. Che, risaputamente, passano da altro e cominciano da molto più lontano, per esempio dal lavoro e dal lavoro femminile. Ma per queste cose ci vuole... com’è quella parolina oggi trascuratissima e assente da questa legge di bilancio? Ah già: “visione”.

[communitymanagerandorra]

Borda Xixerella Restaurant. A la Massana Erts a Xixerella Resort, cuina típica Andorrana i tradicional. Les millors carns i el millor marisc. També arrossos de llamàntol.  Has de provar el nostre pastís de formatge, #cheesecake de la Borda Xixerella. #pastisdeformatge #formatge #queso #mascarpone. I les altres postres #melimato #coulanddexocolata #cremacatalana #salmorejo #amanidadecanard

De les carns, no en diem res, les has de provar carns de les millors races.  #meat #meatlovers #lovers😍 #wagyu #kobe #simmental

BORDA XIXERELLA RESTAURANT Tel.+376749517. Carretera de Pal, 6. AD400 LA MASSANA | XIXERELLA | ERTS.

Borda típica Andorrana Xixerella. La millor Borda Restaurant d'Andorra a Erts (La Massana) davant de Xixerella Resort, camí de Pal. I pensi també amb les dues terrasses exteriors on menjar.

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